Chapter Text
“My Lord, we captured the trespasser.”
Hades looked down from his looming chromium throne with disinterest, at his Children carrying a dirty dark bag – big enough to wrap and trap a mortal. Something kicked from inside the bag, with high-pitched grunts (wordless – irrational) like an animal.
The foremen opened the bag and spilled its content on the hard ground with a thump as the creature let out a muffled scream. The King saw his awkward gawky frame again, now bound with metallic ropes wrapping his legs and hands behind him as he tried to stand on his knees. His mouth stuffed with cotton and sealed with silver tape, like a crack in the wall.
“And so we meet again, young man” Hades stood up from his throne casually, as if greeting an old friend. He didn’t hide the satisfaction in his voice. “You wouldn’t raise your voice against an old man now, won’t you?”
“Hmmmmmghffff!”
“As I thought.”
Hades took another glance at the trespassing poet. The young man was attractive, there was no doubt in that. His features were incredibly symmetric, his face oval, his nose straight like a tower. Long locks of twisting hair the color of polished brass fell down his back, dark lashes framed his eyes green like chemical vats – beautiful and poisonous, lovely and deadly. The thick and large silver tape was a right fit over his mouth, fixing his face and covering the crack completely with no lose ripples, a shining square placed just as symmetrically, holding his lips together as the cotton inside kept his jawline fixed in place.
The poet mumbled stiffly as Hades approached closer in low steps. The King couldn’t deny this poor mortal had a skillful singing voice either, but it was so grating for his dead ears, squeaking like an old handle needing lubrication. Now the dulcet tones his waxed mouth made sounded more pleasant… even arousing.
“You heard me, son, when I gave you the order to run”, Hades expressed his disappointment. “But instead of turning your back and leaving like a grown man, you try stealing my property and you make a mess in my Underworld like an unruly child. And so, I will ground you like an unruly child.”
“Hmm! Hmm! Hmmm!” Even the worst singer in the world can sound good when the only sound he can make is the m sound.
Hades laughed.
“I see you’re not up to have a serious talk about it right now. But don’t worry about it, I reserved some special chambers just for you.” He turned to his foremen. “Guards! Take him to his cell. Do not remove his bounds or Father will get angry!”
“Hmmmmmm! Hmmmmmm!!” The poet struggled against his metal wires as he was tucked in his bag and dragged away with muffled screams.
Hades reclined on his throne. The problem has been solved, and he was satisfied.
Very satisfied.
Maybe a bit more satisfied than he should––
“Hades, did you need to gag the boy?”
Persephone stood before his throne with crossed arms, a few springs of hair escaping from her snood. She looked so cute when she’s angry like that.
“Have a drink, why don’t you?” Hades kept his voice dispassionate.
“He just came for the girl, Hades. He has the kind of love for her that you and I once had.”
“The girl means nothing to me” he said quickly.
“This is not about the girl. Let him go.”
Hades sighed heavily on his throne.
“You know how these poets are, my love. Lend them an ear, and the kingdom will fall for a song. You know very well we need to keep instigators like these contained to not disrupt the order of our hard-working citizens.”
Persephone narrowed her eyes.
“The girl means nothing to you. But you seem very… overjoyed about capturing the boy.”
“Go back to your chambers, woman” ordered the King. “Hades has work to do.”
Persephone’s eyes were bitter as she turned away and left the throne room, leaving the King of Hell alone to cool himself down.
The King ordered heavy security kept around the poet’s cell. He’s a dangerous jack of hearts, and he should be watched at all times. The silver tape and metal wires should never, ever be removed.
Hermes was not allowed to see the prisoner. He was a trickster god, and he also needed to be watched at all times. But Hades decided to cut some slack and give a hearing to his objections.
“You should be glad I did not send him to the Great Beyond”, Hades tried to keep his patience. “I gave him the nicest chambers in the complex!”
“At least ungag him!” The messenger god gave his pleas. “Mister Hades, he needs to eat and drink! He’ll starve!”
“Nonsense!” Hades was losing his patience. “Hearing’s over! Go back to your Station before I change my mind and send you to the Great Beyond.”
Hermes nodded in fear. Good. Then he turned and left the throne room, presumably back to his outpost.
And Hades was left alone again.
He reposed on his throne, watching his Children work from afar, like ants in a farm. Orderly and behaved, as they should be. Like it should be every day, every year.
A sight he should see every day, every year.
Alone. On his throne.
…
He should go check his prisoner. The hearing reminded him he should check if the security is still good. The Workers risk falling out of order without some daily maintenance.
“I assume you had enough time to reflect on this, son.”
The prisoner didn’t do much beyond stare at him in silence, completely still. He couldn’t speak – or sing – for obvious reasons, but he didn’t even grunt, mumble, grumble, hum or something. He was not struggling against his tight ropes either, tucked in the corner of his cell like a sack and stiff like a statue, except for his living, breathing chest, sour eyes sparsely blinking.
“Do you understand now, that the order of things is a fragile thing?” Hades went on with his sermon. “A king’s firm hand is the only thing holding this town together. Loosen it, and everything will crumble and plummet to chaos and oblivion.”
Silence.
“Your girl has chosen this fate for herself”, the King said. “Don’t worry, she’ll be put back in line soon. Soon enough she’ll forget you. And you’ll soon enough not even care what happens to her.”
No answer. Not even a muffled whimper.
It was like talking to a wall.
Hades sighed.
“Lemme guess, son. You’re hungry.”
The prisoner snorted.
“Now you give me a reaction” Hades remarked with cold, pointed sarcasm. “With the way you let your girl starve I thought you poets didn’t care about food.”
The prisoner went dead quiet again.
An awkward silence as Hades’ foremen watched him with attention, awaiting orders.
“Well, son. Let’s assume I give you food”, Hades played with the thought. “Something to fill your stomach and keep your soul anchored to your body, so you won’t wilt away in this cell and fade into the Great Beyond.”
The prisoner didn’t answer, but Hades noticed his eyes bulging a little bit.
“But no, you’re a smart little boy. You won’t eat any food prepared and heated in the furnaces of the Underworld, or else you’ll be bound to this realm as long as you exist. No, you’d rather die starving.” Hades leaned down, closer to his prisoner. “But as soon as I, let’s assume, rip this tape off your mouth, and you spit all the cotton out, you’ll raise your voice and start to sing, loud and clear like an enthralling Siren, bewitching all my Children against me.”
He caressed his prisoner’s face, his thumb sliding over the silver tape. Shining bright, smooth and tight, a part of the poet’s face now. The young man whimpered feebly against his cold, hard touch.
“And you’ll revel as you watch the King fall from his Children’s hands”, Hades lowered his voice as he spoke closer to his ear, in a whisper almost. “I am the Hunter, and you’ll reel in as I become the Hunted, defeated by my own guard dogs.”
His prisoner whimpered as Hades breathed closer. Too close.
Hades laughed as he stood up again.
“Guards! Bring me soup.”
His foremen just stood in place looking, in confusion about the unusual order.
“You heard me, boys. Whichever of my Children are the ones responsible for my wife’s meals, I need some soup right now!”
“Yes, my Lord” answered one of his foremen.
“A blended soup!” Hades specified. “No hard pieces! And bring me a straw as well. A bent straw, a very thin one!”
“As you wish, my Lord” the foreman said as he left, presumably to take his orders to the kitchen.
The prisoner let out a feeble groan.
“What, did you think for real I’d take that tape out?” Hades snickered. “Listen here, son, cotton of high quality like this is very hard to get these days! I ordered only the best to fill your mouth, you should be glad!”
“Hmmph.”
Hades stood by his prisoner’s cell as he waited for his foreman to turn back. Soon enough he came with a metallic cup full of blended bean soup, a bent metal straw piercing its lid.
“Now feed the prisoner, boys” ordered the King. “Do not remove his tape. Pierce it carefully with the straw.”
“Hmmm! Hmmm!” The prisoner protested as the foremen seized him, holding the cup in position to feed. He struggled with some newfound strength as the straw approached closer to his face. He was being difficult.
“Stay still, young man” Hades ordered. “Be a behaved little boy and don’t move while my Children feed you. In death your body will become deathless. You will need not to eat at all anymore, once you taste the favas.”
“HMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!” The word favas made the prisoner scream in panic. He rammed his body against the foremen, turning the cup over and spilling beans – undercooked, not even blended well enough – everywhere in the cell, including on all the guards, but somehow not on himself.
Such incompetent children. They do not make Workers like they used to.
Hades clucked in dissatisfaction.
“You’re being an unruly child again, son” he said. “I guess you should starve, then.”
“Mister Hades, he can’t eat beans.”
Hades turned around. Hermes stood in the complex’s corridor, overlooking with concern.
“How long have you been here?” Hades demanded answers.
“I said he can’t eat beans” Hermes repeated. “Especially fava beans. He’s deathly allergic.”
The prisoner shrunk in his corner, avoiding the spilled bean soup like some kind of hazardous material.
“You tell me?” Hades snickered.
“He’s really, really picky”, Hermes explained. “Won’t eat meat. Won’t eat eggs. Won’t eat beans. Won’t use cypress or oak to brush his teeth. Won’t wear wool or leather or anything that was once the body of a living thing. Won’t––”
“Stop with this nonsense! So what do I feed him, then?”
Hermes pondered.
“He’s fine with dairy”, he said. “He likes red cow milk mixed with honey and herbs. But if you took that tape off––”
“Then bring me some of that milk with… whatever you said” Hades ordered impatiently. “Now.”
Hermes sighed as he travelled aboveground in a flash.
The messenger god could travel aboveground and back as he pleased. Hades was always envious of that.
He glanced at his prisoner once again.
“This will take a while, kid. You should wait here as your patron” he spat the word “returns with your milk.”
“Hmm.” His prisoner glanced down to his metal ropes, knowing he either way couldn’t go anywhere.
“Guards! Clean that mess.”
The King turned his back and left, thinking about all the work he had to overlook.
Wait a minute. Did Hermes say red cow?
The couch felt cold and hard that night. As it always did, but it felt particularly cold and hard now.
Hades groaned as he turned, like a bird on a spit. Because of the prisoner poet ordeal, his wife won’t let him sleep with her. If only the couch weren’t so uncomfortable.
The mouthless poet was still his most prized catch. But he hoped he could let his prisoner starve – like a fish dying by its mouth sealed shut, keeping the water from running through its gills – so he could get him out of his head for good. Yet those muffled screams kept him on heat, only driving his beauty sleep away. Somehow the light in these wide eyes caught Hades’ cold and hardened heart.
He closed his eyes and felt the heat, burning his head and his chest like furnaces, stirring in a fever with desire. He wondered why the Devil couldn’t take these muffled whimpers and eyes as bright as the sea out of his head, if they were making him rot from the head down. Somehow, even though thoroughly contained, the silenced Siren had him hooked.
He wished he could lock his heart set aflame inside his chest and throw away the key, soldered and sealed in a tinderbox, so it may never catch fire once again. A lover’s desire is a mutiny, a wilderness, a weakness. And now it thickened on his tongue, now it quickened in his lungs. Now he’s stricken, now he’s stung.
He stood up, sleepless. The milkshake Hermes brought from aboveground is tucked inside a fridge somewhere.
“You over there, bring me the shake” he gave his order to the foreman standing guard as he slept. “Now.”
“Yes. Yes, drink it. Drink it good.”
Hades held the cup awkwardly as his prisoner drank its content through the straw, slowly swallowing through the cotton stuffing his sealed mouth.
“You like it, don’t you?”
He carefully took the straw out, leaving a small hole right in the middle of the silver square. His prisoner was unable to do many expressions beyond burrowing his brow with annoyance – something he did a lot –, but Hades could see his eyes were a bit brighter now.
“Your patron does care about you”, Hades commented, dispassionate. “My father never cared about me.”
The room was dead silent as Hades realized what he has just revealed. His prisoner’s eyes filled with concern.
“Well, son, your stomach better be full now” he said. “This is not Underworld food. You’ll need to eat like this often.”
“Hmmm.” That grunt sounded as filled with annoyance as with relief.
Somehow, Hades felt relieved as well.
The King caught Hermes observing him once again as he exited the cell. The messenger god raised an eyebrow.
“What?” he asked.
Hermes didn’t say anything, but he seemed to be smirking in the dark.
“My wife is ignoring me.”
“Hmm.”
For some reason, Hades kept coming to that cell each night. His prisoner was a really good listener, never speaking a single word against him, and not just because his mouth was permanently sealed shut. He would nod along to what he says, but also snort or shake his head at times with disapproval. His muffled reactions were always fun to hear. It was definitely more fun than try chatting with his foremen, who would just “yes, my Lord” him and uncritically nod along to everything he said all the damned time. He did not want them to think critically, of course, but he sometimes felt lonely standing along with a bunch of stiffs all the time, especially with his own wife giving him the cold shoulder.
His prisoner let him win every time they played dominoes as well, by not making any move at all each turn, which was really considerate. And not just because his hands were permanently bound with metal ropes behind him. Pretty much.
“Summer is coming soon”, Hades said as he mindlessly built a Hadestown mockup with domino pieces on the ground. “She’ll leave the Underworld soon. I would like to at least spend some time with her before she leaves me again.”
“Hmmm.” His prisoner gave an aside glance.
“Spring is coming soon.” Hades sighed. “I know she would want to go sooner.”
“Hmmhmm.”
“But I am so… so afraid she’ll leave me, that she’ll never come back because she hates me.”
His prisoner studied him, lifting his eyebrow and tilting his head.
Hades sighed, forlorn.
“I know she’s feeling stuck. I tried everything, bright furnaces, holographic sun and stars, but no, she wants the actual Sun.”
“Hmmph.” His prisoner grunted in disappointment.
Hades pondered as he played with his pieces.
“You see, it didn’t always use to be like this. We were always together, she used to be always by my side. But now she’s avoiding me. I wouldn’t think she’s feeling… jealous I am instead spending time with you.”
The prisoner snorted.
“Good. You agree this is nonsense.” He chuckled. “I am a god. You may be really attractive, but you’re just a young mortal.”
“Hmmghff.” The young man rolled his eyes.
“But it seems not even Hades is good enough for Persephone.”
His prisoner didn’t mutter anything, watching him silently with wide eyes. He tilted his head again.
Was that pity? Was he trying to say Hades is no such worthless man at all?
No, that must be just some tilting head nervous tick. Mortals were strange like that.
The King looked down, overlooking what he built with his domino pieces. He somehow built not only Hadestown, but the aboveground Station nearby.
“On the road to Hell there was a railroad track” he said, mindlessly.
“Hmmm.”
“And a green field used to grow on that road, a long time ago.”
“Hmmm?”
“And it was there, in that field, where I met her.”
His prisoner observed him, watching with attention.
“Hermes introduced us to each other” he continued. “We were young and wild, all three of us. Young and wild, and free.” He sighed. “There were no words for the way that I felt…”
“Hmmhmm!” The sarcasm in his prisoner’s muffled voice was audible.
“There were no thoughts left in my mind” Hades continued, “when I saw her against the sky. It was like she was someone I’ve always known.”
His prisoner’s eyes widened.
“What?” Hades questioned. “Are you surprised the King of the Mine is speechless?”
“Hmm-hmm.” He dismissed, shaking his head.
“Well, son, as I was saying, I didn’t know what to say. So, do you know what I did?” Hades took a deep breath, trying to hide his embarrassment. “I took my hat out and started to sing.”
The prisoner blinked.
“Hmm?”
“Yeah, you heard that right. I sang. And Hermes started laughing mad, and I felt like digging a hole and burying myself in embarrassment.”
The prisoner sniggered.
“But Persephone…” Hades sighed. “She laughed along. And then… and then we held hands––”
“Hmmmww!” If it was possible to squeal with a sealed mouth, his prisoner somehow managed it. Hades could swear his face was becoming red, hot like a furnace.
The King shook his head.
“Such a different man I was back then. So young and so… naïve.”
He knocked the Station’s domino pieces off with the back of his hand.
His prisoner only stared at him with a sorry look. Then he lowered his head.
For a moment, awkward silence lingered in the cell.
Hades let out a rueful sigh.
“I gave her my promises” he continued. “We took our vows. For half of the year she’d be stay up above under the light of the Sun, and the other half she would stay here with me, hold my hand, side by side. Every year I should wait for her here down below, wait for her to come home. And I should never follow her up above. I should stay here where I belong, bound to my chromium throne.”
The prisoner lifted his head again, observing with sympathy.
“See the chains around my feet, Orpheus.” Hades’ voice was soft as he, for once, spoke his prisoner’s name. “They bind me here, to this time and place, to the realms of the Underworld. Every Kingdom needs a King. Every dungeon needs a boss. Every ship needs a captain behind the steering wheel. And the captain should bravely stand and go down with his ship when it eventually, inevitably sinks. It has been his destiny since he was born in this turbulent, dark sea, and the ship, born with him.”
The prisoner studied him for a moment, examining Hades toe to head with his eyes.
“Hmmm. Hmm-hmm.” He shook his head, closing his eyes and opening them again. “Hmmm?”
“No.” Hades sighed. “We may not want to admit or acknowledge it, but not even Gods are immune to death. Every year is a day to a God, but I live every day knowing I am, every day, standing on my own grave, sleeping in my own burial chambers. One day I will disappear, dissolve into the seas of Chaos and Oblivion like my brothers did. One day, my wife––” he interrupted his awful thought. “Every day could be our last. And I would rather at least live the last days of my life by her side.”
His prisoner only gazed at him, without muttering anything.
For a moment too long, dead silence filled the cell.
The King started collecting all his domino pieces, bracing himself on resuming his dead-end job, stewarding dead-beat employees all his damned days. For a moment he and his prisoner didn’t exchange any word (or grunt).
Then the mouthless poet started to hum.
“Hmmm-mm-mm-mmm-mmm-mmm-mmmmmm…”
He always did that. If left alone for too long, the prisoner would start filling the silence with random noise like that.
He’s still unable to say any word. The cotton in his mouth stifled his otherwise bewitching voice well enough, it’s white noise to the dead ears of the guards nearby. He’s doing that more often, my Lord, the foremen had earlier told the King. He does it often when he’s asleep, my Lord. Can we go back to sorting gems, my Lord?
Nobody wants to do their damned work these days.
But as the prisoner hummed on, Hades couldn’t help but listen with attention, bewitched, enthralled. Somehow, the mouthless poet could still pitch his muffled voice well enough, it sounded like the wind. He didn’t even need to move his rigid jaw, his fixed teeth, or his rooted tongue.
Hades got to hand it to the poet, he got skill. Not even silencing him could stop him.
But this melody… There was something very, very familiar about it. A sequence of seven notes repeated four times, pitch raised and lowered, major and minor. But the last note was never sung, at the last sixth the cycle was put to a stop, then started over.
Just like…
“No! Stop!” Hades protested. “Stop with this nonsense! Shut up! Wait.” The hummer was already literally shut up.
The prisoner glanced at him in confusion, as if he weren’t even aware he was humming. “Hmm?”
Hades sighed, once again.
“Nothing.”
The prisoner waited, watching with concern.
“This song.” Hades explained, at least. “I sang to Persephone a song like this. In that field, a long time ago.”
“Hmmm?” His prisoner’s eyes widened once again. Then they glinted softly. “Hmmm!”
“Well, not exactly” Hades added quickly. “I thought about the song on the spot, and it had lyrics. About pigs.”
“Hmmm?”
“Because we met in a field of pigs.”
“Hmmmm?”
Then an idea sprang in Hades’ mind, his gears turning.
“A song! Of course!”
Hades glowed with newfound happiness as he stood up, newfound hope bringing fuel and warm fire for his cold heart.
“Guards! Bring me the accordion!”
“Hmmmmmm??” The prisoner muttered in confusion.
Soon enough a foreman brought Hades his old accordion. Rusty and dusty from lack of use, but some polishing would be enough to make it sound good again.
“It’s been an eternity I played this” he said, slinging his accordion on his shoulder. “My dear prisoner, you’ve been a good ear all these days, so you’ll be the first to hear the comeback of Mister Hades!”
He tried to remember where to place his hands on the keyboard.
“Precious stones glitter in the cold dark pit, la la la la la la la! Stenchy pigs graze under the light of the sun, la la la la la la la!”
His prisoner let out a series of muffled screams of distress as Mister Hades resounded the accordion with loud, wailing notes. Okay, he was a bit out of practice so all the notes sounded exactly the same, but it was not that bad! The prisoner was trying to hum along, that’s all!
It was the first day of Spring. Hades was still sad his Persephone had to leave, but he still could not be happier. The accordion performance worked! And they spent a lot of quality time together.
Hades, that’s so bad, she said. I love it!
And she kissed him, and all Hades could feel was the taste of nectar on his lips. And not just because he just drank some actual nectar. His throat got dry after singing and he needed some lubrication.
Now she left as she always did, Hades’ heart left empty again. But now he held hope she will come back, as she always did.
“Young man, I am in a really good mood today” Hades said to his prisoner, barely containing the happiness in his voice. Even if his wife would not be here for the Summer, he at least still had some company in this cell.
“Hmmm!!” His prisoner uttered his satisfaction with glinting eyes.
“You helped me fix my marriage” the King said, “and I am forever grateful for you. Also, you’re really good company. It’s time to repay you.”
“Hmmm! Hmmm?” The prisoner scrambled to his knees as he looked up to his King with wide eyes, no doubt hoping he’d be let free.
Hades chuckled.
“Oh, no, I will never, ever let you free, my son.”
“Hmmm.” He lowered his head in disappointment.
“You’ll always be my little prisoner.” Hades leaned closer again, caressing the face of his mouthless poet. “I will never stop wanting to hear your muffled screams each night.”
His thumb once again ran over the silver tape – lingering a bit too long on the tiny hole in the middle, sticking out like a crack in the wall.
The tape as a whole is still strong enough, it still keeps his prisoner’s mouth tightly shut. No intelligible word, no intelligible thought will ever escape these sealed lips. But in middle of the shining square, a hole so small – minuscule enough, inconspicuous enough it’s imperceptible from afar – is still big enough, enough so through this tiny crack a thin metal straw can feed him surface goods, keeping him alive.
But Hades should not remove the tape – the wall – yet. It’s the only thing keeping the contents inside from spilling out, creating a mess he’s not yet ready to clean.
“I was pondering… something my wife said to me” Hades said as he stood, looming above his prisoner again. “You just came here for the girl.”
“Hmmm?” His eyes widened with hope as well as concern.
Hades smiled wildly.
“Guards! Bring the girl.”
“Hmmmmm!”
His Children arrived carrying a dirty dark bag – big enough to wrap and trap a mortal. Something kicked inside the bag, with high-pitched groans. At least this one didn’t need to be fed. Though sooner or later, his mouthless poet won’t as well.
The foremen opened the bag and spilled its content on the hard ground with a thump as the girl let out a muffled scream. The King saw her petite frame again, now bound with metallic ropes wrapping her legs and hands behind her. Her mouth stuffed with cotton and sealed with silver tape, like a crack in the wall.
The prisoner scrambled to his knees with a desperate hmMMmmmm as he saw her, his eyes widened with shock. The girl however glanced around, confusion in her eyes. She did not recognize the ragged gagged man in front of her.
Hades cursed under his breath.
“She’s dazed after being washed down the River of Oblivion. She forgot you. But she’ll warm up to you again eventually, I suppose.”
“Hmmmmm! Hmmmmmm!!” The young man protested, tearfully.
“You know how the world is, son” Hades sighed. “You ghost your brethren and they’ll soon forget you. But now you won’t need to worry anymore, she’ll always, always be here by your side!” He crackled. “And look, you got matching silver tapes! How cute!”
His prisoner crawled closer to his girl, like a snake, surprisingly agile despite his bounds. He tucked his head on her chest, bringing his face closer to hers. She crawled away with wary groans, as if he were nothing more than a creepy stranger.
“And to celebrate this lovely reunion, Mister Hades will play a song of merriment with his great accordion!” Hades announced as a foreman brought him his beloved instrument. “Precious stones glitter in the cold dark pit, la la la la la la la!”
“HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!” His prisoner screamed like he was being tortured.