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The first time Thanatos meets Ares, the war-god is young, just growing into the first stages of adolescence. But already, he has a nearly insatiable bloodlust, and watches with a hungry stare as the Keres devour the dead after his first battle. Than is more for gentle deaths, personally, but there is something in the way that Ares looks to him that makes Death feel… Well, he's not sure. Some mixture of apprehension and, perhaps, anticipation.
"My Lord Thanatos," Ares calls him. Sometimes, it's "O Sweet Death," instead. Both are vaguely discomforting in ways that Thanatos doesn't have words for. He is a child of Night, and the blinding morning sun of battle is too much for Than, most times.
Ares loves morning battles. He always tries to arrange his favored army to the east of their enemies. The bright dawn sun glints now off the highly polished bronze armor and shields of Ares' favored army, and red eyes look down with unrestrained delight. Death stands next to War, uncaring for the bloodshed and violence, but unable to look away from his companion.
Something stirs in him that he cannot name.
Gods age slower than mortals, and Thanatos has watched Ares grow from a young godling to a full-fledged god — from a wiry adolescent to a battle-hardened man with a physique born of constant training. Than finds himself staring more often than not, though he's never sure if Ares has taken notice at any given time. If War has noticed, then he's never said anything, at the least, and saved Thanatos the embarrassment of being called out on it.
"My Lord Thanatos," Ares' voice snaps Death out of his thoughts — for once not on his companion.
"What is it." Than's voice is flat, ever smooth and refusing to betray the strange feelings that whirl inside of him. Perhaps those would be less troublesome if he at least had a name to give to them. Instead, he feels like he is afflicted by one of the Maniae — his sisters of madness — for all the confusion and wildly disparate directions his emotions go in.
Ares gives him several moments of seemingly thoughtful silence before speaking. "Have you been feeling well, lately?"
Panic rises in Death's throat, choking him up. Ares has noticed something. What, Thanatos can't say, and Ares is not forthcoming with further information until Than gives an answer.
"I'm fine. No need to concern yourself."
"I'm afraid it's a bit late for that, O Death."
Than doesn't exactly have a heart to hammer inside his chest, but he suddenly understands the mortal phrasing. Every fiber of his being thrums with the desire to not have this conversation, to flee. Fortunately, sudden departures are the norm for him. "I said I'm fine. Now if you'll excuse me, my duties call."
Teleporting away in a flash of green light eases some of the tension away from inside of him, but Thanatos still has to confront the uncomfortable questions at some point. But that's a problem for later, and right now he needs time to sort through these strange feelings before it comes up again.
For a while, Thanatos avoids Ares. The time apart tears at him, clawing at his insides just as much or possibly even more than simply dealing with the usual unnamed feelings when they're together. It's nothing, he tells himself. There's nothing to worry about, despite the churning in his stomach when he tries to put a name to anything going on in his head that he can't figure out.
His work is sloppy. Enough that a trickster of a king is able to trick him. The orders came from Olympus, to chain the shade of a ruler and take him to Tartarus. The last thing that Thanatos sees when Sisyphus closes the lid on the chest is an almost regretful smile.
The chains bind his godly powers. Before Thanatos was born, things would die on their own. Even though he prefers to ease the suffering of the dying, all Death must still go through him, now. It shouldn't take terribly long before someone notices that no one is dying. Charon will come for him without new souls to ferry, surely.
How much time passes in the darkness, Than can't tell. Muffled noises move past his chest every now and then, but nothing with enough of a pattern that Thanatos can use.
There's something wet on his cheeks, and it takes far too long for Than to realize that they're tears. He's crying, though the storm in his chest gives him no indication of exactly why. Death doesn't cry. He is a child of Night, steady and calm, proper as he was taught. Hypnos seems to be an oddity, though his particular relationship with mortals' sleep may be to blame for that.
But Death is not an oddity. Thanatos has always kept a cool head in situations that would have others screaming or in tears. Yet here Death is, in tears himself, and for a reason he cannot even name.
The reason hits him suddenly. He's helpless, trapped in a place that no one knows where he is. With no indication of how much time has passed, there's no way for Than to know when others would come looking for him.
Who will even think to look for him first?
Days, nights, weeks, months… Time moves different for gods than it does for mortals. None of those seem like terribly long to Thanatos, as ancient as he is. But it doesn't matter how time flows, when each second feels like an eternity.
Screams are the first indication Thanatos gets that something is going on outside. There's a particular quality to them that feels familiar, and though no one will die until Death is free, he has a feeling the Keres will arrive before too long.
Ares. So few gods would take such delight in mortal suffering, and in retrospect it's so obvious that War would be the one to notice when people weren't dying. How long did it take for Ares to find him here? How long will it take for Ares to find the box that Sisyphus trapped Death in?
There are more screams, and each one has Thanatos waiting. Hoping that it's closer, somehow, that Ares is getting the information he needs. Something lodges in Than's throat at the thought of Ares seeing him in such an embarrassing position, but he doesn't have time to dwell on it before the sound of heavy footsteps grows closer.
Something rattles against the box that Than is trapped in, and then there's light hitting his under-used eyes. "There you are, Lord Thanatos. I was worried about you."
Too dazzled by the sudden brightness, Than finds himself unable to respond. Thankfully, Ares is surprisingly gentle as he unfolds Death from the chest, inspecting the chains with a frown.
"My father ordered these. For the shade-king, yes?" Thanatos simply nods in response, his voice almost certainly hoarse from extended disuse.
"Then I shall see to it that this king receives due punishment for chaining you, my Lord."
Something aches in Than's chest, and he watches silently as Ares removes the chains and throws the cursed artifacts far away from the both of them. "... Thank you," Thanatos finally says, his voice cracking slightly.
"Forgive my asking, but are you alright, Thanatos?" It's the first time Ares has ever dropped the formalities, and simply called him... by name. No extra flourishes, no titles, no epithets. It feels strangely intimate for the two of them, after so long.
"I'll be fine," Thanatos answers. He hopes it's the truth, anyway, as his release is causing the deaths of thousands. Those in wars, those suffering and sick, and those around him in Sisyphus' palace, mortally wounded by Ares but unable to die until now.
Red eyes judge him, and Than feels too exposed. Before he can teleport away to avoid the verdict, Ares simply nods. "If you have need of me, you know how to find me."
Than does know how to find Ares. Always, every time, without fail. That might be part of the problem. He's not sure.
The weeks after Ares rescued him have Thanatos sleepless, unable to rest for fear of the darkness behind his eyelids. Even Night has more light than he had in that box.
So of course it's his brother that notices. "Thanatos, do you want some help sleeping?"
Death does not need help... except, he did. Does. Maybe. Than can't tell anymore, and perhaps something of that bleeds through in his expression. Most find him hard to read, but Hypnos has been with Thanatos all his life.
"Let me just give you one night's rest, with some good dreams. Maaaaybe, something with your crush?" It's a tease, but that indefinable something in Than's chest falls, crashing into place with horrifying clarity.
Death is in love.
That most definitely shows on his face, and Than shakes his head, trying to regain composure before Hypnos can tease him further and force him to confront things that were better left unspoken.
"Maybe some other time. Duty calls." There's a brief look of confusion and shock on Hypnos' sleepy face in the split second between Than's declaration and when he teleports away to his favorite hiding spot.
Hypnos was only trying to help, though. Thanatos vows to return to his brother at some point soon and take up the offer of a good night's rest without fear of the darkness.
The problem now, is what to do about this... this crush, as Hypnos so helpfully called it. Ares has always been a companion, nothing more. His concern in finding Thanatos chained and trapped inside a box was likely only because of his wars being ruined.
Who would desire Death to come to them, anyway?
Still... much as he hates feeling this way, it has to be mentioned, sooner or later. Confusion over these emotions has given him enough grief, and was directly responsible for his slip-up with Sisyphus. Thanatos has to say something, and soon, lest he find himself in another trap.
He takes one last look around the field of flowers that make up his hiding spot. Butterflies have landed on his scythe, and there's a hint of a smile on his face as Thanatos gently brushes them away before teleporting to Ares.
It's a morning battle, but Ares' favored side is facing the dawn light while their enemies have the sun at their backs. Than frowns, because this is unlike War.
"Ares," Thanatos calls out. Red eyes meet gold, and whatever tension had caused this mistake seems to bleed away from Ares' shoulders. Just a little.
"To what do I owe the honor, O Sweet Death?"
"We need to talk."
Ares pauses, then tilts his head slightly. "Is this about the shade-king? He's already been dealt with, so I hear from Lord Hades."
Thanatos shakes his head. "No. It's about you. And me. That is—" Suddenly, the words don't want to come out of his mouth. Not in the right way, not with the right meanings.
"About us. Our... relationship with each other. Yes?" Ares supplies, and for once, Thanatos is grateful that someone is finishing his sentences. Despite his slip-up, Ares still understands what Than is getting at.
"Yes."
"Shall I go first, or shall you?"
Death does not pace, but right now he floats in wary circles, trying to figure out the right words as he says them. "I've always felt strange, ever since you started calling me Lord Thanatos, and... and O Sweet Death. It was uncomfortable, and—" Ares' expression grows dim, and Than places it as... as worry. The same kind of expression from Ares when he rescued Thanatos.
"I didn't know what it was, but Hypnos called it a crush and I think that I might. You know what? This is stupid."
Death was calm, because he was inevitable. Death did not do things on impulse. Yet here he was, pulling Ares close into a kiss as a morning battle raged on behind them.
A warm hand settled on Thanatos' waist as the other one went to brush against his cheek. Ares returned the kiss, before pulling away with a smile. "Well, good talk."
Despite their disadvantage, Than and Ares watched as War's favored army managed a victory.