Chapter Text
“Time you learned the bearing of the gods, and to assert yourself. For this I have employed the greatest of the Greeks, or what became of him.”
Achilles pushed away the sting of Hades’ comment with a tightening of his grip on his spear. It was not one that he recognised but nonetheless it seemed to have materialised with him when he arrived here. Distantly, as he considered the young prince who had just ambled reluctantly into the main halls and was now eyeing him warily, he wondered what had become of the spear he had once wielded in life.
“‘Aristos Achaion?’” the prince began, realisation blooming on his face as he looked quickly between Achilles and where his father sat imposingly at his desk in the main hall. “You mean he’s-”
“Hail, your highness,” Achilles cut him off and lifted his fist to his shoulder as he gave a bow. He did not wish to know details of the reputation he had apparently already acquired in this place. There was once a time when the knowledge that his fame had reached even the darkest depths of Tartarus would have made him crow in triumph but at that moment the thought only made him tired. “My name is Achilles. I will be instructing you in military discipline and teaching you all that I know.”
A grin broke out on the prince’s face as he turned to look at Achilles properly for the first time, which allowed him to catch sight of the mismatched red and green eyes. To his surprise, he received a bow in return. “It’s an honour, sir. My name is Zagreus.”
Achilles had been less than thrilled when he had been informed by Lord Hades that the principal task of his servitude to the House would be to carry out his son’s instruction in combat. Although, he reminded himself as he watched Zagreus swing the wooden training sword he had given him only minutes before with little care, he would have willingly been condemned to an eternity of torment the chambers of Tartarus if it had meant his Patroclus was able to reside in Elysium. This was the far more preferable option.
“First lesson,” he said quickly, catching Zagreus’ elbow before he was able to knock an ornament from its display as he prepared to make another mighty swing. He resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. They hadn’t even made it to the courtyard that Hades had ordered his son to lead their way to. “A weapon is not a toy. Do not treat it as one.”
Zagreus ducked his head sheepishly in acknowledgement and took them through what Achilles could only assume was the young prince’s bedroom. Gods were ageless when compared to the fleeting lives of mortals so he had no way of telling how old Zagreus was in a literal sense. To Achilles, however, he appeared to be around the age of an eleven year old on the cusp of puberty and, looking around at the haphazard way in which half of his belongings appeared to cover the floor, he was increasingly glad that he had not handed him a real blade.
Once they reached the courtyard he took a few moments to survey the area to consider how much space he had to work with and to acclimatise to the surrounding green glow of Tartarus. It wasn’t the largest space and the lighting wasn’t comparable to the sun but it would do.
“Does anyone else use this area?” he asked as he turned to catch the prince staring at him with what seemed to be a combination of open curiosity and the same wariness from earlier.
“Uh,” he said as he snapped out of it. “What for, sir?”
“Anything. I’m wondering whether anyone else at the House might require this space for their own combat training so that we can determine when we can train without an audience.”
“Oh. Uh, no. No one else really comes out here since the only entrance is through my bedroom. And everyone else finished their training a while ago so…” he trailed off. He seemed slightly embarrassed.
Achilles nodded and hummed thoughtfully as he caught sight of the empty weapon displays at the side of the courtyard. He was torn from his thoughts abruptly when Zagreus broke the brief silence.
“Sir?”
“Yes, lad?” he said, opening a chest of what were revealed to be a set of practice shields and weapons. Perfect.
“Is it true that you fought in the Trojan war?”
He took a sharp intake of breath and looked quickly towards Zagreus who looked as though he had been waiting for the right time to ask with an eager expression on his face. His laurels flickered in the dim light.
“Yes, lad. It is true,” he said as lightly as he could as he picked up different shields and tested their weight.
“I thought so!” He sounded pleased with himself. “I know a lot about that one with all of the shades that have come through recently telling stories about being there-”
“Oh?” He tried to maintain his light tone which rang hollow in his own ears while he tried desperately to think of a way to change the topic.
“-And they mention you a lot!” No luck. “One of them even said that you single-handedly turned the tide of the war, how did you-”
He settled on one of the slightly heavier shields that granted a large area of protection and stood suddenly. The chest slammed closed with a bang. “No soldier can single-handedly turn the tide of a war, lad. Remember that,” he said, harsher than he intended.
Zagreus, however, was oblivious. He looked up at him with awe and nodded as though he had said something wise. At that moment, Achilles hated him for it. He was not wise. He was not worthy of awe.
He took a steadying breath to push down the sudden flare of his temper. Not now.
“Okay.” He handed the shield to Zagreus who buckled only slightly under its weight and looked down at it in confusion. “We’ll start on defensive techniques today so that we can run through the basics and I can get an idea of what level you are at currently. Now, show me a defensive stance.”
Zagreus pouted but did as he was told, although he did little more than place the shield in front of the centre of his body. Achilles raised an eyebrow.
“Tell me, lad, have you received any lessons in how to fight before this?”
He flushed and shook his head.
“Hmm.” He walked closer to Zagreus and demonstrated with his own stance. “Place your feet further apart like so, see? Plant yourself like a tree. If someone were to charge you down where you stood now, they would send you straight to the ground.”
Zagreus copied and moved his feet apart but peeked out from behind the shield to give Achilles a grin. “That sounds a lot more fun, sir, barrelling someone to the ground. I’d much rather do that than hide behind a shield.”
Achilles huffed. If shades were able to get headaches, he was sure that he would have the beginnings of one. “Well, you most certainly would not find it fun to have someone charging towards you in the midst of battle only to realise you had misplaced your own shield in your haste to prove that all you need is a serviceable level of skill with a sword or a spear.”
Zagreus paid attention well enough, until the last point when his gaze caught on the spear still in Achilles’ grip. Achilles held back a flinch at the ghost of an expression he thought he saw in the black and red eye when Zagreus flicked his eyes back towards him again.
“You used a spear, didn’t you sir? Can you show me?” He wrinkled his nose. “I don’t see why I would need to use a shield, it’s not as though I can die like a mortal-”
Achilles clenched his spear so tightly it might have splintered. This was everything he had feared and expected when he learned he would be responsible for teaching a godling the ways of war. How to use mortals as toys in their games, as though their only purpose was to provide them with an eternity’s worth of entertainment. How to trick them into ensnaring themselves further in fate’s webs when attempting to cut themselves loose.
“Lesson two,” he snapped and ignored the way the prince stumbled slightly when he wrenched the shield from his hands. “War might be a game to you and death may be a joke - to a mortal it is not. Until you take these lessons seriously and treat this art with respect, there is no point in my giving you further instruction.”
The prince’s eyes were wide before he looked at the ground, abashed, his shoulders hunched. Achilles let the tense silence continue until it became clear that the godling was not going to say anything more.
He sighed. “Dismissed.”
“Ah, shade. You are the new guardsman employed by Hades?”
Achilles had watched as Mother Night entered the West Hall but still started when she addressed him, the echo in her voice strangely disconcerting.
He bowed. “Yes, my Lady. I am Achilles, son of Peleus and Thetis.”
“Of course. We are all honoured by your presence here in the House, and thankful to you for undertaking this task.” Somehow he didn’t think she was referring to his standing guard outside the Master’s chambers and observing other shades as they came to and from the administrative chamber. He said nothing. “Your first lesson seemed brief, did it not go well?”
Achilles hesitated before giving her the same explanation that he had given Lord Hades as he had passed. Judging by the lingering stare he had been given before receiving a curt nod, he did not think that he believed it, but it was better to be consistent. “I merely used the session to determine his current skill level, my lady, which did not take long. I decided it would be best to plan the most effective way of teaching him before beginning our lessons properly.”
Nyx considered him for a few moments, before she looked to the side in an almost regretful way and said, “You must be patient with him. He does not often meet new people and he has had little to occupy his time.” She paused. “There is also the matter concerning his development.”
“My Lady?”
She looked at him directly again, a slightly resigned look in her eye. “You have met my son Hypnos, correct?” Achilles thought back to god who he had startled from his sleep as he emerged from the Pool of Styx, but who seemed to be cheerful enough. He nodded and she continued. “Our conceptualisation of time would mean little to mortals, just as yours would mean little to us, but what would you say if I told you the twins are only slightly older than Zagreus? That they grew up together?”
Achilles blinked. “Well… I apologise for putting it in mortal terms, my Lady, but I would have assumed Hypnos to be at least twice the prince’s age.”
She nodded solemnly. “I thought that may be the case. There was once a time when my sons all aged at the same rate, with the twins being the equivalent of only several years older than Zagreus, but while the twins reached adulthood and grew into their godhood a long time ago, Zagreus has remained in his current state.”
Achilles stared at her. “Is this common? Amongst gods?”
“It is not unheard of,” she said slowly, considering. “As gods grow into adulthood, they do not always age at a constant rate as mortals do. Hypnos spent longer as an infant until he eventually caught up with his twin. But Zagreus… he has not grown at all for multiple mortal generations now.”
Achilles processed this, dumbfounded. “Is there anything that can be done?”
“It is difficult to think of something that we have not tried. I, myself, am less involved with him as I once was. I fear that his dependency on me has not assisted matters. I suspect, although Lord Hades would be unlikely to admit this, that his recent employment of you in the house may be an attempt to encourage his growth.”
“I am unsure of what I might do to help, O Night.”
She shook her head softly, the stars in the darkness of her hair twinkling in the low light. “Put it from your mind. If you only instruct the child in combat you are already doing the house a great service. It is time he learned, even if he continues to be slightly too young.”
Upon his to return to the small room that had been assigned to him, having just been dismissed from his post as Lord Hades retired to his chambers (“There will be no need for you to guard my bedchambers while I am in them, shade”), he immediately sat on his
bed wearily.
Did shades need to sleep? He felt as though he needed to sleep.
He sighed heavily and ran his hands over his face before he began to undo his bracers. He had spent the remainder of his shift with his mind racing through everything that had happened that day from his conversation with Nyx.
They hadn’t been the words of a god, they had been the words of a boy.
The words of a boy very similar to one that I had known as a youth, he could practically hear a familiar voice say. A voice so familiar that he ached.
He shook his head, as though to shake the unwanted thoughts away, and unpinned his chlamys (he supposed bearing Hades’ sigil would be just another he would have to get used to) as he looked around the small candle-lit room. It was fairly bare, the basic lodging that was promised to him as part of his contract, which also included a salary of gemstones that he had little idea of how to use or what for. Although he still lived in a palace of sorts, he supposed, the room was a far cry from the one that he had grown up in. This one did not even have a window whereas the one from his childhood had overlooked the beach where he had liked to spend his time with-
He was startled from his thoughts by a soft knock at the door.
Achilles had little idea of who it could be but he opened the door to find Zagreus hopping from foot to foot with a slightly pinched expression on his face. He opened his mouth to speak but hesitated.
“Yes, lad?” Achilles frowned down at him.
To his shock the boy, the same as when they had met hours before, bowed. Still looking at the ground he said, “I wanted to apologise for my behaviour earlier, sir. I did not mean to offend you.” He straightened but still did not meet his eye, instead nervously darting his gaze around. “I am grateful for anything that you can teach me and I promise that I will take your lessons more seriously.”
Achilles was stunned. He had been a prince, once, and there were few that he would have been willing to bow to and he could think of fewer times when he had willingly given an apology, let alone a genuine one. For this did appear to be a genuine, albeit rehearsed, apology.
“I-if you’re still willing to teach me, sir?” Zagreus added anxiously when Achilles did not immediately respond.
Achilles cleared his throat. “Yes, lad. I accept your apology. I’ll meet you back in the courtyard first thing tomorrow.”
Zagreus immediately let out a visible sigh of relief and his shoulders lowered as he relaxed. He nodded quickly. “Yes, sir! Thank you! I’m looking forward to it!”
Achilles nodded his dismissal and Zagreus walked away a few steps, his feet leaving temporary scorch marks on the stone of the staff quarters corridor, before he stopped and turned back to him. Once again, he hesitated slightly.
“Sir? You won’t tell my father about today, will you?”
Achilles closed his eyes briefly. He felt a small bead of bitterness find a home in his chest. Of course. There it was. The true reason for this apology. He opened his eyes and from how Zagreus was standing, only half-facing him, he could only see the black and red eye. “No, I don’t expect so. We’ll speak no more of it.”
Zagreus beamed at him and then nodded before he turned and ran the rest of the way through the hall before he turned the corner and vanished from sight. Achilles watched as the footprints on the stone disappeared after him. He took a few moments to contemplate how old Zagreus might actually be, and whether his literal age has any effect on his mental age at all. From what he had seen of him, the prince seemed to be every bit the child that he appeared. He wondered, as he turned back into his room for the night, what he could possibly do to help the situation that would not have been tried already.
Upholding his half of the contract with Hades may prove to be more difficult than he had originally thought.