Work Text:
Somewhere outside of time or reality
The train made its way down the track, under a tunnel where there was no light save for the small lanterns on the walls every few hundred feet. There weren’t many souls on this train, only a few. As the years went on, people became healthier and lived longer. The train wasn’t full like it had been in years past. Of the scattering of souls, one in particular seemed almost happy to be taking the train to hell. Young, with scruffy hair, a white shirt, red bandanna around his throat, a jacket of worn denim, and his most prized possession; his lyre. He’d been quiet once getting on the train, not talking to the other souls, but his fingers would absentmindedly strum the chords of his instrument. They plucked a familiar tune, one that had gotten him through the long hard years. Every once in a while one of the souls heard the faintest of words being whispered by the soulful young man.
I’m coming wait for me…
...I’m coming…
The song was sad, yet hopeful, and in the midst of despair at leaving their loved ones, the souls of the dead listened to the young man’s song and were filled with a small bit of hope.
The train entered a large cavern, so tall that it was impossible to see the ceiling, and so vast that you would have to walk quite a distance to even reach the edge. The train moved towards a swiftly approaching city, surrounded by a wall of brick and iron.
The train moved through the gate and into the station.
Hadestown was a city of iron and concrete, industrial lights and factories. The young man remembered the last time he’d been there, well over 50 years ago. It seemed different somehow; yes it was still imposing, dark and well...dead, but the fear wasn’t there quite as much.
Mr. Hermes had been to Hadestown in the last 50 years, and said so himself that it felt different. People were less slaves and more workers in their own right. The messenger god had assured the young man that, in spite of what happened, he’d made a difference.
And he could live with that.
He followed the other souls off the train and onto the platform. There were a few souls there already, perhaps waiting to see if a loved one had finally joined them.
The young man looked, searching for the dark hair, and bright smile he’d dreamed of since he last saw them.
Nothing.
A bit sad, he decided not to worry too much, for he was sure he’d get to see her again soon. He followed other souls across the road to another building, just as imposing as the rest of the city.
The souls formed a line to get into the building.
He was about to follow when three familiar figures approached.
“No need for that boy.” the first woman said.
“Your fate has already been sealed.” the second.
“Mr. Hades wishes to speak with you.” The third.
“Right this way.” they spoke in unison.
He nodded, adjusting the lyre over his shoulder, and followed the Fates through the maze-like streets of Hadestown until they approached a large building in the center of the city. The first time he’d been there, he’d been surprised that Lord Hades didn’t live in a castle, but he’d learned that while Hades loved to build to impress his wife, he didn’t much care for the fancy or showy things himself. The home of the King of the Underworld was modest by most standards, but still an incredibly imposing house of black obsidian.
He followed the three women inside, letting them lead him through familiar corridors until they reached the door to Lord Hades’ office.
“He’s inside.” they spoke together.
With a nod, the young man knocked on the door.
“Enter.” came the reply.
He stepped into the office.
Mr. Hades sat behind a large wooden desk, papers and ledgers around him. He had the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up, and seemed intent on whatever he was working on.
He glanced up, noting the boy.
“Ah it’s you.” his voice was gravel, an avalanche. Imposing just like his city. “I’d almost forgotten about you, poet. I trust the trip here was peaceful.”
“Yes sir.” he responded after a brief silence, still a bit unnerved by the king’s aura.
Hades just gave a grunt of acknowledgement. “I suppose you’re wondering where your songbird is.”
“Yes sir.” he said again, hope rising in his chest.
“She’s fine, you’ll see her soon enough,” he glanced up then, “But we need to discuss the little matter of, what are we going to do with you?”
His hands tightened on the lyre.
“The Fields of Asphodel are not meant for you, nor the Fields of Mourning. Elysium neither, for I’m sure you’d rather see your songbird than be there.” Hades seemed to consider, though the young man knew the old god was just putting on a show. He already knew whatever fate he’d decided for him.
“I’ll tell you what.” Hades rested his arms on the desk. “You can stay in Hadestown, that’s already been decided from the moment your songbird returned. She insisted that I make sure you stayed in the city when you died someday and I will keep that promise. It’s the least I could do,” he paused a moment, before changing the topic, “And as for your job,” Hades paused. “I have a special place for you.” he stopped and glanced at the lyre. “Do you still play?”
“Yes sir.”
“Good, she’ll want to hear it.” Hades handed him a small envelope, "I suppose you’ll be wanting to see your songbird. You can go.”
“That’s it?” he was surprised, having expected Hades to inflict an everlasting torture on him for having defied him before. Yet the god seemed more subdued, less angry than he used to be.
Perhaps things had changed.
The god glanced at him, “Would you like me to send you to eternal damnation?”
He shook his head, “No.”
“Then you’ll take that envelope and go see your songbird.” the king of the Underworld returned his attention back onto his ledgers.
“Thank you Lord Hades.” he said.
The god just grunted in acknowledgement again, as the office door opened and the Fates led the young man out.
All was silent as they led him through the streets towards a building in the edge of the city, near the wall. He recognized the small opening in the massive wall, it led to the back way in. The same way he’d come last time.
The Fates left him outside a small building, almost a shack, but just slightly too big to be considered a cottage.
“She’s inside.”
“She’s been waiting for you.”
“Knock.” they said together and departed into the shadows.
He went up to the door and did just as they said.
He knocked on the door once.
It was silent for a few seconds, he waited with baited breath he didn’t need until the door burst open and a short figure was wrapping her arms around him.
“You’re here!” she cried. He clutched her just as hard when he saw her. “You’re finally here! He wouldn’t tell me when you were coming.” she hugged him tighter.
They continued to hug in the street, no other souls around for the moment.
“It’s really you.” he said breathlessly after they pulled apart. “I-I’ve missed you so much Eurydice.”
“I’ve missed you too.” she wiped a tear. “My Orpheus.”