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“Um, Dusa? Mind if I borrow you for a moment?” Zagreus asked as he walked slowly down the hallway towards her. It was nearly Christmas, and despite his attempts to throw a party (without his father’s knowledge) for his friends, Dusa had not joined him in their revelry.
“P-Prince? Are you okay?” the gorgon asked. “What seems to be the problem? I already fed Cerberus, and the windows were dusted yesterday, and- “
“Here you go,” Zagreus interrupted, setting before her an ornate satchel stuffed full of gifts. “There’s poms, a new feather duster, and even some ambrosia in there,” he explained. “You’ve been working hard down here, and I wanted to make sure you were properly recognized for it.”
The gorgon felt her head swim as her eyes scanned the contents of the bag. This must have taken weeks to collect up in Asphodel. How many times did he die to get all of this? Just for me?
“I, um, don’t know what to say? Thank you so much!” she sputtered. “I’ll make sure to put it to good use! Well, not the poms, obviously. There’s not a lot of things you can do with those outside of eating them, you know?”
Zagreus laughed loudly.
He laughed like his father, she thought to herself. But warmer, somehow. Gentler, as though his flames would wrap you in their embrace and hold you tightly through the coldest of nights.
“Alright, then. You take care of yourself, Dusa. Merry Christmas.”
“M-Merry Christmas, Prince.”