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As an immortal entity, older than most concepts, Thanatos had made peace with the rarely changing power balances within the godly pantheon. The only time great shifts happened was when the more quarrelsome deities felt inclined to make said shifts happen.
Death was only concerned with those in the sense that even an immortal being could be wrangled into Tartarus. But even that was barely an association, given that they did not die upon being banished into the lowest pits.
Then again, even if he was comfortable with how things were arranged, Zagreus liked to prove that things could be a lot more interesting if done differently.
They were alone, on one of the endless balconies the huge House had to offer. It was easy to forget that this was the home of a king sometimes, especially when everyone spent their time busy in the main hall. But calm places like these existed, with eerie green lighting and the least amount of screaming and crying you could hear in all of Tartarus.
There were two chaises, even if only one was occupied right now, with one table between them to hold foods and drinks and vases that held the same beautiful flowers and greeneries as grown in the garden of the queen. All of these items were commissioned through the house contractor by one very noisy prince, and set up beautifully next to extravagant drapery and a beautiful view over Tartarus endless maze.
Their little get-away, offering more privacy and comfort than Zagreus’ or Thanatos’ private chambers could ever.
“Is it to your liking, my lord?” Zagreus asked away with reverence in his voice. He was grossly underdressed considering this was supposed to be an officially stipulated date between the prince and his first consort.
(Just an excuse to get Thanatos more regular breaks. Another perk of letting Zagreus take him as a consort officially.)
“The wine?” Thanatos inquired, instead of mentioning any of his thoughts. “It’s bitter. Tart? What’s the term…”
Death swirled the unending chalice, a gift from Dionysus himself. Despite it refilling all on its own, Zagreus made a show of standing with an amphore, right next to where Thanatos was sprawled over the chaise.
“I shall bring a sweeter one if the taste does not please you, my Lord,” Zagreus hushed, voice still reverent and just the right amount ashamed.
Examining the prince in his unusually plain chiton, an off-white one that was unbefitting of both his godhood and status, Thanatos thought about a possible response. He wasn’t sure where the other one wanted to go with this, but knowing that he couldn’t stop Zagreus once he set his mind to something, he intended to play along as best as he was able.
“No, I quite enjoy the bitter appetizer, don’t bother,” he drawled, making a show of turning away to take another big sip. The problem with a constantly refilling chalice was the inability to count your glasses.
“Ah- Appetizer…” Zagreus hummed, frowning. It was hard to stay immersed in this little play of theirs with how obviously fake Zagreus' worry was.
Thanatos lowered the chalice to look back at the man who did not act like Zagreus and decided to play a bit more into the fantasy of it all.
“Explain something to me.”
“Of course, o Death.”
“Where exactly is my husband, you know, the one who was supposed to wine and dine me? Because right now I only see a lowly manservant trying to achieve something quite uncouth.”
Zagreus spluttered, red shooting into his cheeks like blotchy ink. He immediately lowered his head, falling to his knees, ready to beg for forgiveness and punishment.
It was an odd display. Zagreus, the son of Hades and prince of the underworld, would’ve leaned into the implication of their love being something forbidden. Zag would’ve spinned it into something sexually charged. They had played scenes like this before, where they would pretend to be in more scandalous circumstances than reality allowed.
But this was beyond reinventing their situation, Zagreus was fully devoted to the role of a servant or valet. Maybe that of a slave? What was Zagreus trying to be, groveling on the floor like that?
Thanatos hummed in thought, swirling the wine, because the shifting weight in his hand comforted him, and averting his eyes to think a bit on this. Until he realized Zagreus was supposed to answer .
“So? Why am I currently alone in my chaise?”
The servant on the floor chewed on his lip, as if still thinking what to say, before finally speaking up.
“Ah uhm. The prince didn’t plan to… be here tonight.”
The thought sounded a bit ridiculous, considering that the prince was currently in the room, kneeling in front of Thanatos, but the idea that Zagreus would skip a date, one of those they planned weeks ahead, was… irritating.
“He wouldn’t,”aaa Thanatos growled.
Zagreus, the house servant, remained silent, which didn’t help to lift Thanatos' slightly soured mood.
“And who are you then, if my husband isn’t here? Shouldn’t I be alone and wallowing in self pity about my callous and neglectful spouse?” he asked, with a little bite to it.
“I am simply here to serve you, my lord. A nameless devotee at your beck and call.”
And finally the scene fell into place. Took him long enough to explain himself. Zagreus got one thing right about mortals, that being the unneeded and dragged on theatrics.
It was one thing when an immortal god took their time to be melodramatic, but mortals with their short lives should learn to manage their priorities a little better.
“ Serve me?” he asked, incredulous. “So my husband has tired of me, and has sent you as a little distraction to run after his own affairs. Nifty , truly ingenious. He must take an example from the most honorable of gods.”
Zagreus gulped, hugging the amphora and— Blood and Darkness —how Thanatos wished he’d just put that unwieldy thing away. It was the only thing keeping him from properly groveling.
“He didn’t wish for you to be alone and bored while he was out on business, so he arranged for you to be served and accompanied for tonight, my lord. Please give me a chance to do the prince's bidding.”
“Should I name you then?” Thanatos clicked, shifting his gaze back to Zagreus, leaning himself over the armrest a bit to take a good look at his oddly meager frame. “You remind me of a certain nymph, her name was Echo. She wasted away watching someone who was not hers. Pathetic, don’t you agree?”
“Of course, my lord, your words are nothing but the truth, how couldn’t I agree?” Zagreus played the devoted shade quite well. He looked a bit too lively to properly pull it off, but humble mortal was definitely a well suited look on him.
“So how are you gonna serve me? Tart wine and unappreciated company?”
Thanatos knew where this was going in Zagreus' head. His husband was insatiable and this was definitely a ploy to get Thanatos spin some wild fantasies. But to be honest, Thanatos didn’t feel all that giving. So instead he figured he might as well push Zagreus down the hole he dug himself with this.
“Any way you wish, my lord,” Zagreus, no Echo, replied, wetting his lips in anticipation.
“Good, then bring me some grapes. Maybe an apple too, the wine goes poorly alone.”
Echo, bewildered by Death and his odd direction in this play, at first didn’t move. But Thanatos was quite literally capable of killing with looks alone and when he grazed Zagreus with his gaze the other immediately jumped up to fetch what the royal consort demanded.
It was good that it was Zagreus and not an actual shade, he wouldn’t have been able to be quite so dismissive with anyone else.
“My Lord.” Echo returned, quick on his feet and back on his knees. The amphora was gone and in his hands he held a flat bowl holding all kinds of fruits, peeled and cut up into little baby bites.
But like that, with Echo kneeling, he barely saw him struggle through his servitude.
“Look up,” Thanatos groaned with a long-suffering sigh, garnering once again the confusion of his little servant. But Echo didn’t complain, instead lowering the bowl to look up at Thanatos.
“I- yes my lord, how may I-”
“Silence. It isn’t enough that my husband has decided to not grace me with his invaluable time today, he also only gave me you as the only servant around,” Thanatos huffed. Just now he noticed how the buzz of alcohol had turned into a haze that made the usual apathy in his voice sound more and more like annoyance.
He held out his chalice for Echo to hold in one hand while balancing the huge bowl in the other. “Who do you think is gonna feed me?” he asked, trying to smooth over the earlier outburst.
It seemed to dawn on the little devotee’s face then, what Thanatos wanted him to do.
“I- Of course my lord, thank you for letting me service you like this.”
“You are quick on your feet aren’t you,” Thanatos hummed, closing his eyes as he leaned his head back, parting his lips ever so slightly. He never did this. Lean back, relax, and let someone else do all the work. As mortals said, ‘If you want something done right, do it yourself.’
But right now the quality of the task was of no consequence; the only thing that truly mattered was that it was the servant ‘Echo’ did it for him. The act of worship and lavishness was something every god craved, even those like Thanatos who offered nothing in return. Maybe especially gods like him.
There was rustling and the puttering about until finally a small grape pressed against his lips. He let it glide onto his tongue, squishing it under the roof of his mouth. The sweet juice trickled down his throat. It was very smooth, with no seeds anywhere. hWen he finished chewing and gulping down the last bit of it, he felt the next little grape pressed to his lips.
It was mindless consumption, devouring one little juice bulb after another. Sometimes in quick succession, as if to test the servant's speed; sometimes taking a minute to chew to test his patience. The fruits went from sweet to sour. There were apples and grapes and tangerines, all lacking any seeds or stalks, but when he came to the first pomegranate seeds, he paused. What to do with the little seed.
Thanatos didn't sit up, only leaned his head to the side.
"Your other hand," he demanded, not opening his eyes as he spit the seed to the side, not bothering whether that little shade was quick enough to catch it.
"The pom is quite delicious…” he pondered aloud. “Who would've thought."
It went on for a bit. Somewhere between infinite and a couple of hours maybe, until Thanatos opened his eyes. Echo took that as a cue to stop, holding the last fruit, a bit of cut pear, close but not pressing it to his lips like before. In his other hand, there was a heap of little pomegranate seeds. A cursory glance to the floor told Thanatos that he did manage to get them all. Good.
“I am cold,” Thanatos complained.
Echo put aside the food and waste to stand up and scurry away, most likely to bring a blanket of sorts. But when the devotee stood and turned his back to the chaise, Thanatos noticed that he did not feel patient enough to indulge those theatrics. Instead of waiting again he grabbed the little servant by his tunic, pulling him back hard .
“Insolent,” the first consort hissed, making the little devotee shrink in on himself.
“Ah- I am so sorry Lord Death, please, mercy!”
Again Echo turned back and threw himself to the floor in one swoop motion, this time properly groveling at Thanatos’ feet. Thanatos hummed at that, eyes squinting at the little man crawling at the foot of his chaise.
“As a devotee to Zagreus, you should be warm enough to keep me from freezing.”
There was a moment of silence while Echo looked up to Death with eyes big and round as obols. But Thanatos wasn’t known for waiting on others.
“Make haste, no mortal makes me wait.”
So the little devotee scrambled up and frowned at the plush chaise as Thanatos made the slightest bit of space. Even if he was small, he would never fit and half of his body would dangle over. Not something that bothered Lord Death as he comfortably patted the space next to himself.
“Didn’t I tell you not to make me wait?” Thanatos voice was low, foreboding immense disappointment, and as if struck by lightning the little devotee immediately crawled into the tiny space next to Death.
“Good.”
And then Death slung his arm around small nameless Echo, pulling him in so close that there was nothing between them. Thanatos could feel the little one shift in his arms, about to say something, but he gazed down on him, eyes steely despite the warm golden hue, demanding silence. It was a bit hard to hold on to the established role for Zagreus like this. Thanatos couldn't hold anybody this close, and nobody but his husband would ever be able to fill him with such warmth.
“You’re warm enough to replace him like this if he doesn’t deem his time expendable enough, so I suppose you will have to serve me for eternity,” Death huffed, making Echo burn a traitorous red shade, breaking the illusion of Echo, and ratting out the God of Blood for who he truly is.
Thanatos couldn’t help but kiss him on his little reddish nose.
“Welcome back my prince, how was your latest excursion?” Thanatos asked, voice silken and loving all of a sudden, still enough of the drunken haze left to make his voice emote so strongly.
“A-ah? Hm? I mean…”
The flush on his cheeks grew vivid as Zagreus hid his face in Thanatos’ chest, mumbling something incomprehensible.
“Come again?” Thanatos asked.
“I- I said, I had a lovely day or night with the most beautiful god.”
“You’re making me jealous,” Thanatos deadpanned, squeezing Zagreus a little closer. “Well, today I grew to appreciate the myriad of wonders a mortal can provide. Who knew?”
At that Zagreus visibly perked up.
“Did you now? Ever want me to redo my efforts to provide for you?”
The first consort huffed, amused, pushing Zagreus face back into his own firm chest.
“Shut up and warm me, you’re insufferable when spoken to.”