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The most curious hound of hell looked up upon the master as he offered a new and exciting toy.
Such was not a usual occurrence upon the house of Hades, and Cerberus stared upon the new toy in a mix of curiosity and eagerness. It was an unusual thing, pale and pasty and smelled faintly of divinity. A divine toy? Such was even more unusual, and Cerberus woofed with most unusual vigor and appreciation
Is snack?
"Not a snack," Hades chuffed, and pulled the toy back. The voracious hellhound did not take kindly to having his snack so unjustly snatched away, and he woofed again.
Prey! It moves! I want -- snack!
"No," the master said, this time with a sterner voice. "It is a child." A long beat; Cerberus, most dangerous child of Echidna, emerged from his mother full-grown and thus did not know the term child and did not know what sort of snack such entailed. He curled one of his three heads in confusion. "My son." the master said. Cerberus did understand the word son: he was a son! He remembered his parents, but only in very distant ways. The master did not wish to dwell on the subject with the inquisitive canine, and Cerberus found such things best avoided when faced with the possibility of earning the master's wrath and thus less treats.
His master was very good at treating with bones. He could spare the wiggling little one now, if the possibility of treats were to come for the eternally hungry hellhound.
I want to see! Show! The hound barked with one head; the master bent his head and gently parted the blankets of the wriggling child.
It was small thing. Small and wrinkled and sobbing, but the soft flames upon his feet were proof enough that such was truly the master's child, even if it was small. The master’s mate had been small, too. He wondered if this child was of the mate—did gods mate in such a fashion? Cerberus, undeniably curious or not, very rarely had reason to delve his thoughts into the concept of godly reproduction.
Is the mistresses? His third head lolled out its tongue. She has returned? Cerberus, the irascible guardian of the gates of hell, had an undeniable soft spot for the one who had been called the Master's mate. She smelled of strange and exotic plants, many of them pungent enough to be greatly pleasing to the sharp-nosed canine. He panted out of all three mouths, eager for her touch. She had been very good at scratching upon his back; that, no doubt, was why the master had married her.
"She has not," he said, and did not comment upon the other question. Cerberus, an intelligent beast of no burdens but his own choosing, wisely did not attempt to finagle more information of the master. Instead, he wagged his tail as he sniffed at the child. It too, was pungent; soft with the smell of powder and cloth, and the faintly gamey smell of a divine being. It cried as Cerberus pressed his snout to its belly; one little fist rose up to grab onto Cerberus fur.
"You are to guard this one," the master said. "With as much ferocity as you guard the rest of the house." He did not bother to respond, transfixed by the tug of the small one. The small one's eyes opened in curiosity; one as red as the masers, one as green as the mistresses. It was hers! Perhaps it would inherit her knack for suitable backscratching. The immortal canine could wait a few precious years for such hands to grow large enough to do so.
The child placed both their big pudgy hands over Cerberus' frightening maw. The maw had devoured souls, had devoured rats, had devoured the occasional satyr, and, once, one of Charon's hats (though the master had made him apologize for it, it was hard to feel guilty. It had been a perfectly cromulent hat).
The child tugged with both hands and Cerberus lolled out his tongue, giving the young master a strong lick upon their face with his third mouth. His second mouth continued to huff the child's curious baby-scent, while the first watched for predators, as the master had many enemies, from a strange land called Olympus, and Cerberus was always prepared to eat them, or the occasional gorgon snack. Whichever first dared to arrive in the mighty hellhound's vision.
"You are to see to his care when I cannot," the master said sternly. Cerberus barked an affirmative. He wagged his tail as he saw his master pull his hand into his heavy pockets. Master's pockets had dull things in them quite frequently, but also there were often bones or other lovely presents. When he saw a long pale, white bone come out, it took all the excitable dog's considerable strength of will not to push the child aside.
A bone! Throw! I will fetch! He barked. The master, deadly serious as always, stared down upon him. "You will swear to me an oath to look after the boy. Keep him from getting in trouble." The master paused a beat, and Cerberus nodded his assent: yes, yes, yes. Now was the time for bone, though, bone! Why was the master wasting time on oaths? He would devour any who dared to look upon the child oddly. Good headscratchers were rare, after all. If the tiny little one showed any promise in head-scratching, he would never have a thing to fear from the mighty hellhound.
"And you will keep him from leaving. Swear it to me upon the Styx. You must never let him cross empty-handed into the world above." The master paused, waiting for him to nod again, but such was so obvious. He barked.
Yes, yes, hurry up! Bone! He would not let the infant go from the underworld, not empty-handed at least. If the infant offered the mighty Cerberus a snack, well, that would fall into the rules. He would not be empty-handed at such a time. Cerberus hoped there would be many snacks, and the concept of having two masters to give two sets of snacks made him even happier. He sorely missed the extra bites of potatoes that the mistress had thrown him just a few months ago. He had completely destroyed the lounge when he found he would be back to the master's daily feeding alone. The master was always most exact in his measurements; the mistress had let him have extra whenever she pulled too much meat from the bone.
The master nodded, evidently satisfied by his oath, and he tossed the bone far in the opposite direction of the child. Cerberus bounded for it and brought it back, chewing contently all the while. He came back and found the child still on the ground; the master staring down at him as if such was a test.
Cerberus was very good at such tests. He curled up at the boy's side; the little one stared up at him, the eyes half-crossed. He licked the baby once, then went on to the bone, which was a far more interesting treat. Hades, satisfied, made no move to pick up the small one.
"Oogo?" The baby asked, in the wordless language of children. Cerberus understood it well enough - friend?
He woofed softly, and the drooling hellhound leaned over and gleefully licked the young, recently spawned prince. The baby squirmed but did not complain and Cerberus decided that the child was alright.
Best friends! He gently nuzzled it once more before the master finally deigned to pick up the infant; much to his sadness. He woofed his goodbye; he was sure they would meet again. And hopefully the little one would grow quickly, for Cerberus hungered for a second bone already.
And perhaps a good headscratch.