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Zagreus had not had a time in his life, however short it was thus far by immortal standards, where he had been so happy as he was now. He had a purpose, and that purpose was luckily enough entwined with his job, one which he actually enjoyed. And he had somehow wound up with two partners when he barely thought one of them could tolerate him, a somewhat amiable connection with his distant, mountain-dwelling relatives, and the most shocking was that he had something resembling a relationship with his father. There was also the mother, his mother, Persephone, once again ruling the underworld with the biggest grouch in existence. The very reason, really, for all of the things he had now. Actually, if he sat still and thought for a moment, two things not often attributed to the young prince, the reason for it all was really Nyx, who took the risk in first contacting the Olympians, and in giving him the mirror, and defying his father; all of it so he could have a chance to have a mother, even though she’d been one to him already.
Yes, while everyone played their part, to varying degrees, Nyx was the one to thank for all of it, in some measure.
He didn’t know many ways to show his thanks to her. He knew, really, that words were more valuable to her, so he gave her plenty of those whenever he came back from a run through the levels of hell. But there wasn’t much else to give a chthonic god older than his father’s father that she could possibly want or use…besides, perhaps, a vintage scarcely seen in realms such as theirs.
He'd given her one before, but that was a long while ago, and perhaps he was feeling like talking to her, or maybe he just wanted to get one of those oh-so-uncommon faint upturns of her lips that happened when she was surprised, but in a good way.
Neck of bottle in hand, he strolled out of the pool of blood, nodded to Hypnos and went right, intending for the corner where his foster mother usually resided, but stopped when he saw it was empty. Hm. Perhaps Than knows where she is? He turned around, going to the other hall with the half-assumption that Thanatos would be there, but he wasn’t. Neither was Achilles. He went past Hypnos, who was engrossed in his list-making, and dipped into the lounge. At first, he thought it was only shades, but found himself pleasantly surprised to see Dusa.
He came to the little gorgon’s table, ambrosia now tucked away. He never liked brandishing it without reason. “Hey, Dusa.”
“Oh, Zagreus!” She exclaimed with her usual bubbly tone. “What got you this time?”
“Damn bone hydra. What a beast.” He said and, without intending to really, got into a conversation about the subject. As he would find out, Dusa was apparently distantly related to the hydra by some number of primordial cousins. Though Dusa, outwardly, didn’t like any of them. That part he’d known, and simply didn’t press the subject because he wasn’t fond of her relatives either whenever he crossed through Asphodel. Eventually when Dusa’s break approached over, he asked if she had seen Nyx.
“Oh, uh, I think she’s in the garden.” Dusa said. Zagreus managed to thank her before she quickly floated into the rafters and out of sight. They were on better terms now, but Nyx still scared her. He couldn’t have blamed her though, in her position. Either way, he set for the garden, the gate to it was closed, oddly enough. It was simple enough to push it open, and now that it was being maintained by the house, it did so silently.
He was looking ahead for Nyx, glancing at either of the far corners of the garden. Usually she was around the farthest pomegranate tree, as a matter of preference. This time was not the case. The young prince took precisely half a step into the garden, with the intent of calling out, when he was muted by the softest laugh.
His head snapped to the left. Nyx was there, yes, but so was his mother.
They were at one of the pomegranate trees. A ladder was set out, with his mother kneeling on the topmost step while Nyx stood (or rather hovered, as she nearly always did) at the foot of it with a basket of red fruits on her hip. Her free hand held a pomegranate.
“Don’t worry so much, Nyx.” Persephone said, speaking quietly, like she didn’t want to be overheard in a dead empty garden. Er, almost dead empty. Actually, it was one of the few places in the underworld not occupied regularly by the dead now that he thought about it.
“I do not worry much.” Nyx said, with equal quiet. “Just enough.”
“I’m not going to fall off the ladder. And if I do, I know you’ll catch me.” Zagreus wasn’t sure if he was processing the tone in his mother’s voice correctly. She couldn’t possibly be speaking to Nyx with…. with that kind of fondness. Right?
“I’d rather not have to risk not catching you.” Nyx said.
“It isn’t like I’ll perish or anything.” His mother retorted, passing two more pomegranates down, and then another.
“You are somewhat mortal, Persephone. You could still manage to hurt yourself. Zagreus did get the tendency from someone.”
That was almost enough to make the prince open his fat mouth and retort that his self-inflicted injuries were a Zagreus original, thank you very much, except that he was in further shock hearing Nyx talk like that. With such levity.
His mother huffed, grabbing the last of the fruits within her reach and took a few steps down the ladder, until she was in the right range to reach out, pomegranate in hand, and lightly bonk Nyx on the forehead with it. “Mortals have a good term for you, you know.”
Nyx stared, blinking slowly, before touching her forehead. Her brow knit, just slightly. “They do?”
“Yes. You’re what they would call a worry-wart.”
Nyx’s face scrunched up suddenly, with an uncharacteristic, bemused smile that Zagreus didn’t know quite how to process. “I do not believe I like that expression.”
“I don’t think you’re supposed to.” Said his mother, now on the third step of the latter, putting her at just the right height to move Nyx’s hand and kiss her on the forehead-
I need to get out of here.
He stepped back, still silent, and closed the gate almost completely, fearing the latch would make any noise at all. He dashed, quite literally, into his room, where he let himself breathe again. Oh Gods, when did this…? Ugh, Zag, don’t ask yourself that question.
Given the display he’d viewed was obvious and blatant, he wasn’t able to deny it to himself for more than a minute. In the minutes that followed, he tried to think of what to do. When the only thing that came to mind was ‘tell father’, he decided to stop thinking at all, and went to the next room to grab Stygius.
“Back so soon, Boyo?” Skelly asked the moment he’d puffed into existence. Zagreus turned, blade in hand, walking directly toward the skeleton, who said, “oh, you look like you seen somethin’ you didn’t want to.”
“Yep.” Zagreus replied, and then immediately dispatched Skelly of his skull.
It reattached in short order, of course.
“I’ll shut up and you’ll hit me?” The skeleton proposed.
“Actually, do anything but shut up.” Zagreus responded, swinging at him again. “Please.”
Skelly didn’t ask questions, and also didn’t shut up, for a period of time Zagreus did not keep track of. Eventually he grew tired enough to quit, at which point a familiar green hue hit his skin for just a moment, followed by a puff of air.
“Zag.” Thanatos said.
“Than!” Zagreus was somewhere between relief and exhaustion, walking toward his partner, though he didn’t reach him before Thanatos was simply there, a foot from him and frowning more than usual.
“What happened?” He asked, in hushed concern.
“Am I that easy to read?” Said Zagreus.
“To me.” Thanatos replied.
Patience thin, Zagreus put a hand on Than’s shoulder, intending on his bedroom, before remembering he had no doors and that wasn’t a good thing for confidential conversations. Skelly was gone, now, as quickly as he appeared, and couldn’t communicate with the rest of the house regardless, so the prince shifted his trajectory to the furthest corner of the training area and finally just came out with it. “I saw Nyx and my mother in the garden. My mother kissed Nyx.”
“What!” Thanatos’s voice nearly cracked.
“Yeah!”
“You’re certain?”
“Absolutely. I went to the garden, because Dusa said she was there and I had something to give her and – and I couldn’t see anybody, and then I saw her in the corner, and they were picking pomegranates like, um, like they were on a date, or something?” Zagreus gestured as he spoke, pausing with his hands in the air, unknowingly looking like he was pleading with the Gods for his memory to be wiped. “And they were quipping, and my mom called Nyx some mortal term, and kissed her forehead? And I’ve been panicking since.”
“Panicking about wh – ”
Both Thanatos and Zagreus yelped, erupting in dyssynchronous exclamations of blood and darkness and damn it, Megaera.
The fury watched them for a moment. “You two look like you’ve seen a mortal loose in Tartarus or something.”
“Zag saw Persephone kiss Mother Nyx.” Thanatos said plainly.
“Shit, really?” Megaera said, like it was not much more significant than standard Hades House gossip.
“Yes!” Zagreus said, his panic rising in his throat as a squeak.
Meg raised an eyebrow. “Well, I guess it’s kind of weird for you guys…”
Thanatos and Zagreus looked at each other. “It is a little bit weird,” Than admitted after a moment.
“Sort of.” Zagreus agreed. He’d kind of ignored any other implications.
“Okay. So it’s kind of weird. But I don’t see the big deal in this.” Megaera said.
Zagreus huffed in frustration. “My father, Meg? The quite literally big deal?”
“Okay, and? They’re immortal gods. Most of the people in the house are immortal gods. It happens.” She came toward them of her own accord, slightly taller than both, though that might have just been the ponytail. “I don’t understand the fuss. Especially not from you, Thanatos.”
Thanatos pursed his lips. “Megaera, essentially every god has had multiple partners.”
“Exactly what I’m saying.” Megaera said, glancing at Zagreus with a mild, if confused, concern. “Which is why this is weird.”
“All gods but one. One, Meg.”
Megaera opened her mouth, then stopped and clicked her tongue. “Okay. I get it now.”
“Thank you!” Zagreus nearly yelled, clasping his hands behind his head as both his partners looked at him. “And-I mean, besides that, my father is still married to my mother. And I don’t remember most gods being cool with adultery.”
“Perhaps your father knows.” Megaera said.
“He could.” Thanatos said.
Zagreus made a bit of a face, mostly because he simply couldn’t imagine his father okay with it. Though, well, the Lord Hades seemed to be a uniquely monogamous god, and he had honestly thought the same of his mother, but it was possible it was only his father. His mother was an Olympian, if a unique one. “But if he doesn’t?” Zagreus voiced. “What if he doesn’t know? And then finds out? I…” He didn’t need to say more, because he could tell with the glance between them that Thanatos and Megaera had caught onto his true worry: what would happen to Nyx, who was certain to bear the brunt of his rage, if not its whole, if Lord Hades discovered an affair?
None could say they knew for certain. It very well could mean everything to the ruler of the underworld, or it could be seen as a minor grievance. He could know, which meant it was a non-issue, or he could not, which meant, rather disturbingly to all three, that Nyx and Persephone were coming together behind his back. Zagreus didn’t like imagining his mother could do such a thing or would. He didn’t like thinking of Nyx doing so, either, and also found it difficult, as did Thanatos, by the way he was inspecting his scythe that had absolutely nothing wrong with it.
But, whatever their respective grievances, the main issue was that Persephone and Nyx were canoodling and no one knew if Hades had any idea, and Zagreus, by his own admittance, had no idea what to do.
“I think…” Megaera started, looking at the two of them, “that one way or another, he has to find out. So…you should tell him, Zag.”
Zagreus’s eyes went wide at the thought, but it didn’t take a genius or someone who had survived millions of mortal lifetimes to know that was the simplest and quickest solution to the uncertainty churning in his stomach. “I, erm…alright. You’ll come with me, right?”
Both of his partners were quiet.
“Come on, guys!”
“He’d send us both to Tartarus.” Megaera said.
“Yeah? He’d send me there, too!”
“He’d throw you in last,” Thanatos said gently, with a slight attempt at a humorous tone that Zagreus either hated or appreciated in the moment, he wasn’t sure. “Besides, Persephone is unassuming, but powerful. You’d survive either way.”
“She did choose her own name,” Megaera recalled.
“What does that have to do with anything?” Zagreus asked.
Thanatos was subtly floating toward the door to Zagreus’s room, something the young prince caught on to but accepted. “You think your mother named herself ‘death-bringer’ just to fit your father’s theme?”
Zagreus paused, then inclined his head because, well, yeah. He had a point, they both did, both that he was the most likely to survive confronting his father and that his mother was definitely not one to follow theme blindly. Seeing what Demeter could do on the surface, all on her own, he could only imagine what his mother was really capable of, even if she was part mortal. Achilles did say something about the quiet ones being the most dangerous, once.
The trio entered Zagreus’s room and decided, collectively, that Zagreus would approach his father when he was done with his shades for the day, just before he went to his room. That way, if there was a blowup, it wouldn’t be witnessed by shades and therefore significantly reduced the potential gossip and, in that, potential reveal to the Olympians. They did consider purposefully telling him in front the shades in the hopes that he would be more merciful, but quickly decided it would encourage the opposite.
So, they waited. Or rather, Zagreus waited; both Megaera and Thanatos had to work some time more before they were done for the day or night or whatever. So, Zagreus waited in the lounge with wine, fiddling with a piece of parchment and a quill like he was going to do anything productive other than stare at the doorway to the lounge. He saw his mother pass by the lounge, from the garden. Nyx came out some moments after his mother and resumed her post in the corner, directing the household. He considered talking to either of them, but if he asked Nyx to come back to the garden, out of his father’s earshot, or his mother, well-his father would ask questions either way, or possibly hear since he was not yet pinned to his desk by the grievances of shades.
There was no perfect way to do this.
Toward the end of the day (night?) Thanatos appeared in the lounge. He didn’t say much of anything, but his presence eased the prince’s heart a little. Thanatos slipped out of the lounge after a while, and then quickly came back in and sat beside Zagreus, placing a light hand on his thigh. “Last of the shades are out for the night. I did not see Persephone or my mother, and Hypnos is elsewhere too.”
“Now is the time then,” Zagreus said, somewhat to himself, and squeezed Thanatos’s hand before standing. He could feel his partner’s eyes on him as he left the room, mentally bracing himself. As much as the thought toiled in his chest, he didn’t want to present it as a big deal. He wanted this to be simple. He wanted this fragile peace he’d died a hundred times over for to remain.
His father was standing between his desk and Cerberus, gently petting the only head which would allow it. The other two were laid upon each other, half asleep, waiting for permission to leave. Zagreus allowed his father a moment with the dog. He never interrupted him the rare occasions he was actually petting Cerberus. Before bringing back his mother, the only moments the young prince could recall in which his father was fully quiet and gentle were those like this. The moment he was done, however, and had dismissed the infernal guard dog, he made himself known. “Father?”
“Zagreus?” His father turned, face shifting slightly into something resembling surprise, overladen with the king’s usual disgruntled placidity. “What do you want, boy?”
“To speak, briefly.”
His father turned fully then, to look at him. Or down at him. He was always looking down at him. Though I don’t suppose he can help that in some ways. “Then speak.”
Zagreus took a deep breath, bracing himself. “Alright then. Should just come right out with it. I um, I thought you should know, Father, that I saw mother and Nyx…embracing in the garden earlier. I didn’t dare confront them over it, but it feels wrong to keep to myself.”
His father stared at him. He expected words, harsh ones, whatever direction this was about to go, but instead he got a long, drawn-out sigh. “Boy, why would you come to me over something so trivial?” Before Zagreus could answer, his father continued, disapprovingly but, surprisingly, not with venom. “It was foolish for a moment to think your mother would have any sort of arrangement without my knowing, especially in my own house.”
“Oh. Um…right.” Zagreus’s throat tightened with embarrassment, and no small measure of shame, but he believed his hid it well. He would have liked to argue that he never intended to think of his mother that way, that he didn’t like it, that he didn’t like the accusation in his father’s tone, either. But in this one particular, special instance, Zagreus opted for the high road. “I just, well…you’re not like other gods. As far as I’ve known. It was jarring.” After a beat, he added. “I was concerned.”
His father shifted, rather uncomfortably, and avoided looking at his son as he formulated a response. “I may not share the…proclivities of most gods, boy, but I have never been one to dissuade. It is an understandable practice, for immortals. Your mother approached me about Nyx eons before you were born. They have always shared a private fondness, and I doubt that time or space has diminished it. There is no effect on your mother and I’s relationship.” He hesitated, however briefly, and following another awkward sigh, almost looked at his son directly. “As long as your mother is happy, I am happy. Do we have an understanding?”
Zagreus’s mouth hung open a moment, then he nodded. “Yes, father, I do believe we have an understanding. And…I thank you for clearing things up. I suppose I have two mothers’ either way, then.”
The groan from his father was one of a man long tired with his son’s attempts (however successful or not) at humor. He left with no more words, and little more acknowledgement. But it was leagues more than Zagreus would have once expected. And, yay! No one was going to die.
It was still kind of weird, though.
He went back to the lounge, finding Thanatos gone, and then went to his room, where Meg was sat on his bed, golden plates removed from her shoulders, arms and legs, all stacked neatly with the rest of her clothing except for the black tunic she wore beneath it all. When she saw him, she began pulling the tie out of her hair. “You survived,” she said.
“Yeah. He knew.” Zagreus exhaled, finally letting his shoulders relax, and his chest ease. “It was really as simple as you thought. Father knew. Apparently, it was…a thing long before I was ever born.”
Megaera nodded. “I never noticed. They must want it quiet.”
“I kind of wonder why.” Zagreus said. He came over, more on instinct than anything, and took over the freeing of the fury’s hair. A long time ago it was a regular routine of theirs, when half of Meg’s stuff was in his room and most nights she was, too. The arrangement was different now, but her stuff was still all over his place, and he got to take down her hair sometimes, so he was happy.
“You ask too many questions, Zag.”
“So you’ve told me,” he said, pulling away the last of the ribbon and watching her hair swish down and fall, half in her face. “Guess they have their reasons, whatever they are.”
“Exactly.” She sighed. “Long as the house is at peace, it doesn’t matter.”
He was inclined to agree. And as long as Mother is happy. He slipped off his own golden plates, and all but his tunic, and set himself up leaning against the headboard. “Hey, quick question, where’d Than go?”
“Oh, he wanted me to tell you he had to rush topside. One of those natural disasters. Took out a bunch of mortals.”
“Oh. Unfortunate.” He wished he could have told them both, he knew Thanatos would be wondering and worrying on the surface, even if he didn’t show it. But there was nothing he could do about it. In the meantime, he caught Megaera’s eye, raising a large comb from his bedside table. Megaera cocked her head to the side, eyes slowly traveling over him, pausing where his tunic just, and only just, hid his modesty. Then she looked back at him, and gave him a rare, soft smile that Zagreus was rather possessive over, given she’d kill most people before granting them such a grace.
She scooted further onto the bed, tucked her wing close, then adjusted herself until she was close enough for the prince to reach out and take hold of her long, silk-like hair and pull the comb through the ends, working his way up gradually, silently. It was interesting, he mused, the differences in his partners. Quiet, intimate moments like this were much less common with Megaera, but with her they were actually that: quiet, and intimate. Thanatos, in contrast to Meg’s desire for peace, got nearly chatty when they were alone, like he saved up every thought he had for the day and threw them all out the moment the curtains of Zagreus’s doorless room were closed.
“Well, hello there,” Zagreus said on reflex, only a moment afterward realizing Megaera was laying back on him, head on his chest, hair tossed over her shoulder, out of the way. Her wing was angled and as tucked away as she was physically capable of doing.
“You’re not still thinking about all this, are you?” She asked, voice low and scratchy. Tired.
They were both tired.
He laughed a little, getting comfortable between the pillows and his fury. “No, not really. I mean a little, but I was just thinking how different you and Than are.”
She raised an eyebrow, a smile teasing her lips.
“Well, when we’re like this. Alone. You like it quiet. I’m pretty sure we’ve sat here for hours and not said two words to each other.”
“Something like that,” she said. “Only since you learned how to sit still.”
He rolled his eyes, bringing his hands together over her stomach, lightly clasped. He could almost feel the muscle beneath the tunic. “Uh huh, yeah. Than is usually the opposite of quiet, though.”
The smile came to her lips fully then. “Doesn’t he also complain about our stuff everywhere?”
“Ha! Yeah, he says we’re both messy.”
“You are.” Thanatos’s voice startled the both of them; he was just walking through the curtain coming from the hall. With both Zagreus and Megaera looking at him, he started pointing around the room. “You have one set of earrings over there, Meg, and then a mismatched pair on the nightstand, and then two entire bracers on the prophecy table and I’m surprised you know how to fold any fabric because you never do. Zag, you, you,” Thanatos gestured at the entire room, “you’re just a menace to organization as a concept.”
“Nice to see you too.” Zagreus snorted.
“You’re alive. That means Hades knew. And Hades knew, so you’re alive, so I can complain.”
“You weren’t kidding,” Meg mused, and pointed near the foot of the bed. “We stacked it all up this round, o’ mighty Death.”
Thanatos took a deep breath. “Will you do the same next time?” He paused. “Your silence is telling.”
Zagreus tilted his head back, nodding slightly beside him. “Join us?”
Thanatos paused again, but set his scythe aside, and beside it all of his ensemble but his base tunic, sans belt, neatly folded and stacked. Rather than go around the bed and climb in that way, he came to the side occupied by Zagreus and Megaera and just went on all fours over the latter’s legs, then turned and half flopped into Zagreus, tucking himself into his side with his head at the crook of his shoulder, and throwing an arm over his chest, which rested lightly on Meg’s head.
Zagreus leaned his head to the side and kissed Thanatos softly. “Humanity has tired out Death, huh?”
“It happens.” Thanatos said, glancing down at Megaera. “Huh. I think she’s asleep.”
Zagreus raised his eyebrows and sat up just slightly. Meg was on her side a little, half cuddling the arm of his that wasn’t sandwiched between himself and Thanatos. He leaned back, resigned to both limbs being asleep whenever they all woke up. “Yeah. I think she has the right idea.”
“Yeah,” Thanatos said lightly. “Today was a lot.”
“It was.”
“And it was pretty stupid,” he mumbled this into Zagreus’s skin, eyes already closed.
“Yeah,” Zagreus agreed, finally letting the last of the day’s tension go, easing fully into the pillows and his partners. “It was pretty stupid.”
Zagreus, ever the late riser, woke to an empty bed. After taking a moment to fully regain consciousness, and process the events of the day before, he got out of his bed and, after dressing, took one of the bottles of ambrosia he kept hidden in his room. He’d give an escape a try today, but first, he had things to do. He stashed the bottle and left his room, finding Nyx in her usual spot. “Nyx!”
“My child,” she said, looking to him and then chuckling faintly. “I see you have not visited the mirror yet today.”
“Oh, uh, well no I haven’t. Wait, how would you-oh.” He put a hand to his cheek. The tacky feeling of lipstick, no doubt hot pink and left because Megaera thought she was hilarious. He quickly rubbed it off, or at least as much as he could, and cleared his throat. “Uh, yep-hey listen I just, I meant to give this to you yesterday but couldn’t find you, and then had some other things going on and, well, enough excuses.” He passed Nyx the ambrosia. Just like he’d hoped the day before, her mouth twitched upwards just slightly, a light of surprise in her eyes for the same brief moment as she gently accepted the bottle.
“You give me too much, my child.” She said. “But I know better than to try and rescind your generosity. I thank you dearly. But I have no need for any more extravagant gifts.”
“Right, of course. I just want you to enjoy yourself a little bit, or maybe find someone to share it with. Like mother.”
He said it as casually as he could, and as quietly, but Nyx still nearly jumped and looked at him, searching, hand gripping the neck of the bottle tightly. Then, she said, softer than usual, “perhaps I will, my child. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome Nyx.” Zagreus said, then left to start his day in Tartarus.