Work Text:
Bob was never a fan of weddings. He tried to like the idea, especially when he became betrothed to his fiance, his husband-to-be, Helmut Fullbear. But seeing his lover’s face light up like Apollo’s chariot, it was hard to deny him the satisfaction of the idea. It was a peaceful late summer’s day, and he had invited his friends that they both had journeyed with on the ship Argo to gather the golden fleece, but the joy stopped there. They had exchanged vows, said their “I do's”, slid the ring on each other’s finger, but the sunlight had left shortly after.
Helmut was out, dancing in the field they had gotten married in, but had stepped on a viper. Bob’s joy that day had turned to stone, unthinking, unfeeling, and fell into a stupor of the same variety. Even his song of the spring he was working on failed to lift his spirits. Time passed and Autumn soon arrived, and his mind was still on his lost love.
There was only one thing to properly do to resolve the matter. He had known stories of entrances to the underworld, but scoffed at the idea of venturing beneath the soil. Sure, he had journeyed to get the golden fleece, but to go save a dead person? He would have to be a mad man. Well, madness had taken a liking to him since, and he with it.
Guitar strapped to him, in the proper garb to meet Hades, he stood before a large stone that jutted out of the ground in the middle of the forest that he and Helmut first met in. It was a chance encounter, what with a human musician, struggling with his guitar, and a nymph who offered to tune it, what were the odds of that happening? Surely if that happened, he might just have the luck to get his beloved out from the underworld, and if not, pray that he ended up with his Helmut in Elysium.
Nervous fingers plucked at the strings, and a melody came out, one that used to rouse the plants from their slumber, cause them to grow and be merry, but it had been a lifetime since that had happened. Fortunately, it was enough to create a dark entryway in the boulder, and Bob stepped through. The climb was steep, but he stayed true in his descent, stumbling and faltering, but not giving up. He would sooner die on the journey than turn back now. He only wished the note he left his friends would assure them of his somewhat sound mind and body as he made this foolish trek.
The temperature went from cool and dank to warmer as he continued down, further and further, it felt like summer again, but without the humidity, like a face put to the fire. The cavern widened and a light shone at the end, the entryway to Hades. The world was foggy as he crossed the threshold, the lights coming from lanterns that lined a dock that jutted out upon the river Styx.
He patted his pockets and was able to find the two drachmae he found and made his way to the end of the wooden planks. He held out the coins in open palm and closed his eyes, “O River Styx, call forth the ferryman to take me to Hades’s palace. I give you proper sacrifice and toll in return.” A bony hand grabbed the coins and Bob’s face blanched.
A hooded figure in a wooden boat with a rather long oar stood in front of him. He could see the bones that had touched his flesh hold the coins up to the dark hood, and two red eyes glared between the coins and Bob. The same bony hand held out for the musician and he accepted it, gingerly helped into the boat by the ferryman.
The ride was silent, only one single lantern at the front of the boat lit the way, but the fog was still so thick, he could barely understand how Charon was able to see in the dark. But, he dared not question the might of an immortal, even the ferryman to the lord of the underworld himself. The silence, however, was dampened as the ride on the river came to a close on the dock on the opposite side of the river. No doubt he was dropped off near the entrance of the fields of punishment. He shuddered at the thought of being damned there for an eternity, tortured by the Erinyes.
He could feel those glaring red eyes on the back of his head as Bob pulled himself up to the dock. He turned around to thank the ferryman, but he was already gone, no doubt pulled away to shepherd another lost soul across the river to be judged. The guitar strap felt heavy on his chest, and the bag heavy on his back, but Bob proceeded, no hindrance would get in his way. That is, until he came face to face with the guard dog of the underworld, Cerberus.
Bob didn’t mind animals, but they were more of the forte of his friend, Compton. He had charmed several beasts on their journey with the rest of the crew of the Argo, but Bob wished he had some of that power. The beast’s heads started to sniff and it was only a matter of time until it had noticed Bob trying to sneak in, past the judges, and let him in.
Strumming a few chords, and a low, kind voice helped lul the three-headed dog into a slumber. Bob sighed heavily and took a few, light steps forward, but felt a hand grasp his arm.
“Hm, another human, Megara, what should we do with him?” A shrill voice came from behind him.
“Alecto, perhaps we can put him in the Lethe and have him stumble around until he dies, not able to remember a single thing about himself nor how he got here.” The new voice was as grimey as the last.
“Tisiphone, Alecto. A better idea: we should throw him into the Phlegethon and see how long he lasts. The screams would be tremendous, I don’t doubt.”
Bob felt his blood turn to ice as the Furies behind him deliberated. He knew this was an awful idea, but he had an even worse one in store. He took a deep breath and cleared his mind, eyes closed. “Oh kindly Erinyes, I am but a humble musician. And I seek a council with your lord, Hades. I offer up my services in exchange for something I lost. If he is displeased, I’m sure you three can come up with a suitable, meaningful way to torture me in that time, no?” He felt his head grow light and squeezed his eyes further shut, unsure what the verdict would be.
“Oh, to see the human struggle in front of Hades and Persephone, what a joy that would be, only to be denied his request and sentenced?”
“Precisely, wouldn’t that be even a larger source of pain for me? A greater source of pleasure for you, no?” He wasn’t sure what got into him, but he was in this literal hellhole for love, and he would get Helmut back or die trying. Sadly the latter seemed more probable the longer he stayed here.
He felt another talon of a hand on his other arm and began to rise, ground beneath him growing smaller until he could get a view above the mist. A sinister castle of white marble stood at the top of a large hill, engraved with what looked like heads and statues of times gone by, of heroes and gods and tales Bob had learned and regaled on the ship between stops. He swallowed hard, he had asked for this, and he was going to get it, but it was worth it for the chance to be with Helmut once more.
He was let down beneath the fog once more, dropped a few feet above the palace gardens into a bush. He pulled himself out, thankfully himself and his guitar intact. He looked up and was met with the fog again, no idea where the Furies had gone off to. Surrounding him were flowers he had only dreamed of growing himself. Everything was in bloom, contrasting the world above, surely Persephone was back in the palace, just as he was told she would be.
Most plants called to Bob, he had that power since birth, or at least as far as he could remember. He could speak to plants, help them grow, tend to their needs if need be. Some of his best friends were more floral than human. However, there was a tree in front of him that called to him in the most saccharine of voices. He was pulled to it, he couldn’t help but move his legs towards the tree. Bright red orbs greeted him as he stood at the bottom of the tree, he reached up but something stopped him.
“Don’t.” He recalled a voice, “whatever you do, do not eat the fruits of the garden. Eat of the garden and you’ll be trapped, possibly for forever.” It was Cassie, another of his friends from back above. He joked about going down to the underworld a few weeks prior, but since she was unsure, he remembered that line of advice she had given him. She was always so kind and helpful, even on the journey.
He shook his head and moved on, past the tree, up the steps, and to a large pair of iron doors. Bob raised his hand to knock but the doors opened on their own, slowly, creaking loudly. The inside was dark, but fires started to light and there was a great gust of wind that grabbed him and pulled him into the building, shutting the doors behind him. Before he knew it, he was going deeper into the domain of Hades, surely pulled to the man, no, the god in question.
As the pull lessened and the speed at which Bob was being whisked deeper and deeper had sloweed, he ended up collapsing on the floor. It was a cold marble, white with black and gold cracks within, that shimmered in the torch light. He stood up slowly, but stopped as he was on his hands and knees, as he looked up to find the god of the hour, Hades.
“Megara, is this the….human, you told me about?” Hades asked, making eye contact with the fury, but waving his hand in discontent at Bob. The man was tall, eyes hooded and bored, skin was pale and rivaled the same shade of the marble room they resided in. He had a short black beard, and curly black hair and was dressed in a rather decadent grey tunic with a black and golden cloak.
“Yes, my lord,” came the shrill voice of Megara. Bob didn’t get quite a good look of the woman who grabbed him and helped carry him here, with the help of her sisters. They had those leathery wings he was warned about by the tales he had retold time and time again, Megara and her sisters were draped in tunics, one of blue, one of red, and one of green, but all had trim of gold and black. No doubt a signature of Hades himself.
“And he is...to sing?” Came a kinder, gentler voice. Bob turned to the source and gazed upon the goddess Persephone herself. She had thick, curly hair, flowers entwined. Her darker complexion contrasted with the lush green tunic she had on. “It surely would be welcomed given how…lively….this place is.” No doubt she was comfortable in her role as queen of the underworld, but also had her contempt with living beneath the ground for six of the twelve months, few flowers, rare chances to see her mother, unable to truly walk the earth and tend to the flowers. Bob could understand that pain, even in the underworld right now.
“Well? Get on with it?” Hades slumped back into his throne and gestured for Bob to proceed.
Bob cleared his throat and stood up further, grabbing his guitar and tuning it just so. He focused only on the guitar, not on the gamble he was making, not on the ensured death he had given himself. His mind went to Helmut, and the fun times they had together, playing in the field, looking at the stars, and journeying on the Argo together. This was no longer for himself, but for Helmut. He was revitalized and knew what he had to do.
“This is my song of the spring.” Bob said, finishing the tuning. “It brings plants to grow, blossom, and flower.” He strummed the first few chords and let out a long breath, recalling the last time he played this song with Helmut. His voice got choked up but proceeded with playing. He imbued as much hope and strength as he could muster into his fingers as he strummed, eyes closed, he continued. He felt something moving in his beard as he did so, at several distinct locations, and even around his head, but he dared not stop and check what sorcery the gods no doubt were playing on him.
There was a sob that broke the relative silence as he continued, reaching the final stanza, and opened an eye. He could see little flowers and vines growing from his beard, no doubt his abilities were returning, the blessing at birth helping him to earn back his love. He did not look further to see where the further sobs and sniffles were coming from, the only thing that was on his mind were the chords. Bob could have sworn his husband was right there with him, playing in tandem, urging for life to grow, for love to bud and bloom.
As he finished the last few notes, he opened his eyes, and looked up. Persephone was truly affected by the song, as the flowers she had in her hair had grown in size, her eyes swollen with tears. He scanned over to Hades and the Furies, who were also clearly moved by the song Bob had just played, wiping tears away as well.
“I can play another one if you desire.” Bob said solemnly, unsure if more was necessary to convince them of letting him have his husband back.
Hades opened his mouth, only to close it as he sat and took in his emotions. “No, that should not be necessary.” Persephone intervened, standing up, regaining her composure. “You wish for something in return for this song, yes?”
Bob nodded. “I wish to have my husband, Helmut Fullbear, to return with me, should you let me.”
Persephone looked over to her husband, who reluctantly agreed. Clearly moved, but not as much as his wife, his queen. “I have decided, and no doubt my husband will agree on the caveat, that you two shall be reunited. However, while there may be no hand, no weapon, no claw, no paw, no tentacle or any obstruction in your way physically, you shall not look upon him. You may hold his hand to guide him up, but if you look back, he is to return to the underworld, and go back to his resting space.”
Bob felt a weight off his back, he could do this, he had the blessings of Persephone, but also Hades. A hand clasped with him and he dared not look. “Helmut?”
“Hey, Bobby. I was hoping you’d be back soon.”
“Sorry, honeybear, I was just...needed a plan, is all.”
“I don’t mind, so long as we’re together again.”
“Yes.” Bob held Helmut’s hand tighter and bowed to his hosts. “Thank you kindly, your grace. I shan’t darken your door until my time has come, as agreed.” He turned, avoiding gaze upon his husband, and led them out of the throne room, guided by the torches, outside the palace.
The walk was kind, as kind as the underworld could be. Small floating lanterns showed up to light the path from the palace to the docks of the Styx. He could have sworn he heard Helmut say something, but there was something not right with the voice. They stopped at the river, but Bob patted his pockets. He had foolishly brought two coins, and yet, Charon showed up, offering the same bony hand, and the two got on board the boat and crossed. The voices seemed more close, but Bob ignored them, daring not to look back, holding Helmut’s hand tightly. Halfway out of the dark.
The lanterns were lit all the way up to the cavernous entryway that Bob had hopped out of, and as the two crossed the threshold to the surface, the lights went out, and the cavern closed up. No going back now, thankfully.
The climb was tedious and hard, sure the cave was cold, but Bob was tired from his long journey already. He was surely not that far from the surface, when he heard Helmut’s voice, close this time, “Bobby, where are you?”
Bob’s eyes widened and squeezed tightly, he couldn’t feel Helmut’s hand anymore, but he dared not look back. He wasn’t even sure he could go back, with the cavern closed. He had failed Helmut. He had failed himself. He had failed the vows he had sworn to, the oath between them, broken. Helmut’s voice still taunted him as he climbed, no longer able to feel his hand, no movements other than his own could be heard in the cavern.
The light blinded him as he reached it, almost as if no time had passed from when he first set out on this failed expedition. Feet carried him quickly far past the boulder, through the woods, to a comfy old log the two used to sit on and chat in afternoons such as these. He sat on it, and pondered if he’d be worthy enough to see Helmut again, knowing he had messed up somehow. He didn’t look back but there must have been a caveat that Hades added to the agreement that Bob couldn’t hear or something, but he had failed.
He bitterly pulled the flowers out of his hair and beard, eyes stinging with salt water. The two had been across the world above and back, fighting impossible odds with their friends, they had achieved the impossible and yet, could not do it twice. What a foolish prayer, a dream, a requiem for something to stay that could not. Bob was alone again, as he ever would be.
Bob put his head in his hands and sobbed. He dared not let anyone see his awful face, the face of a man who could not be enough of a person, a hero to his lover, his husband, his best friend. It was a mistake to love this deeply, the pain was a dagger, twisted, and turned in his chest, but no way to pull it out, no way to ease the ache. “I am so sorry, my love.” He whimpered, curling up and laying on the side of the log.
“You’re always so hard on yourself, Bobby.”
He uncovered his eyes and sniffled, looking over his shoulder. “H-Helmut? How...when?” Bob was baffled at the sight he beheld. His husband was with him. “No, this must be another trick.”
“It’s no trick, Bobby. Well, Hades did trick you into thinking I had gotten lost in the dark, but I was there. You ran off so fast I couldn’t find you initially when I got out. So, I had to follow the footsteps.” He pulled up a flower, “well, more like these little guys.”
Bob felt his eyes get wet once more, but this time out of joy. He hadn’t failed, the oath was unbroken, sealed back up. The pain he felt slowly left him, as the tears flowed out. “I thought I lost you twice.”
“Yeah, well, I’m back now.” Helmut said, hugging and lifting the man up, kissing him on his forehead. “C’mon, that was a long walk, and you’re probably tired. I know I am. Let’s go home, my love.”
Bob nodded, swallowing further tears. “Yes. And Helmut?” He held onto his husband’s hand, grasping it tightly, not wanting to let go for even a second.
“Yeah, Bobby?” Helmut began to lead Bob back to their village.
“Let’s agree to stay out of the business of the immortals for the foreseeable future. I just want to rest for a while.”
“Agreed.” He said, turning back to Bob and winking.