Chapter Text
All was still, the darkness of the sky above the only comfort to the lonely figure standing in the meadow. It was the only thing familiar to him, the darkness. There was no moon that night, and it would have been near impossible for him to see the soft blooms around him–all shut tight for the night–had he not been accustomed to it.
Save for the stars.
They sparkled like the gems deep in the earth below, though that was a sight the god had seen for millenia, and long since tired of. What captivated him now was the subtle colors of the stalky wildflowers at his feet, the smell of life. Most of the flowers he had seen had been long dead, though still beautiful even in their rot. Even still, he could hardly remember a time now when he had marveled at the beauty of the flowers that passed through his realm.
“They’re a lot prettier when they’re open,” said a voice, and he started, whirling around to find a young hedgehog woman smiling warmly behind him. Starlight bathed her pink quills, which gently brushed against her shoulders as she moved, and her eyes reminded him of polished jade. His heart thumped in his ears as he took in her visage, admiring how the soft red fabric of her chiton flowed around her body. And even beyond that, she gave off the faintest glow, like that of a firefly. A radiance he recognized well.
An earth goddess.
She spoke again, her smile unwavering. “I don’t think I recognize you,” she said. “What is your domain?”
It was best that she did not know.
Instead of answering, the god turned and walked away, leaving the goddess behind just as the sky began to lighten, Apollo preparing to draw his chariot across the sky. He ignored the goddess’s calls behind him. It was best that a goddess of life had little to do with the god of the dead.
Hundreds of years passed in the blink of an eye until Hades stood in that meadow again. He had decided to visit in daylight this time, though the heat of the sun soaked unpleasantly into the black of his quills. Did Apollo really have to make the fires of his chariot that hot?
It saddened him to find the flowers from before were gone, replaced with thorny bushes covered in thick, round, deep red flowers. The color reminded him of spilled blood, as if they had been planted over a corpse and absorbed its blood through the roots.
“Hello again,” said a familiar voice, and Hades turned to find the woman from before. Her radiance was much dimmer in the sunlight, and he wished for a brief moment more than anything that Apollo hadn’t made his chariot so blindingly bright.
She beamed at him as she approached, startling him into taking a step back into a bush. “I was wondering when you would come back.”
Hades said nothing, too flustered to even register the pain of the thorns digging into the back of his calf. She’d been waiting for him? Surely not for centuries; she must have had other duties to attend to.
If the goddess noticed his discomfort, she ignored it, drawing even closer. “I have something to show you,” she said, excitement sparkling in her eyes as she reached out her hand for him to take it.
He stared at her hand for a moment before her smile faltered, and she retracted it. “Would you like me to leave you alone?” the goddess asked. “I don’t mean to be forward.”
Hades hesitated for a moment before he shook his head, surprising himself. With any other god, he would have sneered and made his exit himself, or even snapped and told whoever was bothering him to leave. But not this one. Something about her… intrigued Hades. She didn’t cower in fear like everyone else did. She held her head high, like she knew the world was hers for the taking, and no one could get in her way.
The goddess peered down at his heel, golden ichor seeping out from the thorns. She grimaced and hissed in sympathy.
Sympathy.
That was new as well.
She held out her hand again. “I can help you with your wounds too,” she said. “And there is something else I think you’d like to see.”
Hades narrowed his eyes. “You wish to deceive me?” he asked.
The goddess’s eyebrows rose. “Of course not,” she said, her tone injured. “I just thought you might like to see those flowers from the last time you visited, that’s all.”
Guilt pricked Hades’s insides, and he looked away shamefully. “I would like to see them,” he said quietly. “Sorry.”
The goddess retracted her hand again. When Hades looked up again, she was studying him, looking him up and down. And then her smile returned, sending Hades’s head spinning for a moment. “Then come with me,” she told him, then turned and walked in the direction from which she had come, leaving Hades to follow.
Curiosity burned through Hades as the goddess led him through the meadow. Who was she? Why did she interact with him so casually? Everyone else feared him, so why didn’t she?
“Sorry about the roses,” she said. “I created the thorns to give them something to defend themselves against the mortals with. But I forgot the mortals are clever with tools, so it didn’t work as well as I’d hoped.”
“Roses?” Hades asked.
“Mhm! These red flowers here!”
Hades hummed in thought for a moment, but didn’t say anything else as he looked a little more carefully at the roses. The longer he looked, the less off-putting they became. He noticed the color matched the goddess’s red chiton, and he wondered if that was a coincidence. Their bundles of petals looked full, the blooms round and voluminous. The attention to detail the goddess had exercised in their creation was breathtaking.
Suddenly, the goddess stopped and turned around, a playful gleam in her eyes. “Wait, one moment!” she said, hurrying over to a rose bush. Hades rose an eyebrow at her as she carefully plucked a flower off of it, smoothing her hand over the stem. When she removed her hand, the thorns were gone, and as quickly as she had plucked the bloom off, another had taken its place.
The goddess approached Hades and smiled as she held the rose up in front of him. “It matches your eyes,” she said. “And the stripes on your quills.”
She had closed the distance between them, so close all Hades could see was her lovely face. His cheeks burned as he turned his gaze away. The goddess giggled as she tucked the rose behind his ear, then turned around again, once again leading the way. Hades stood there for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest. He was quite certain his cheeks were as red as the rose.
“Come on, we’re almost there!” the goddess called, snapping Hades out of his trance. He hurried to catch up with her, trying to ignore just how jittery he suddenly felt as she led him to the face of a cliff. At the bottom, there was a cave that Hades could feel extended deep underground. As the goddess walked inside, Hades caught her arm. “I advise you against going in there with a stranger,” he said.
“I know, I know,” she said, waving dismissively. “I wasn’t going to invite you in anyway. My mother never approves of men visiting. Just wait out here and I’ll be back soon. It’ll only be a few minutes.”
Before Hades could protest, the goddess hurried inside the cave, leaving him standing awkwardly outside. Her words about her mother sparked a memory, and he sighed with dread. He knew of only one goddess who would be so protective of her daughter.
The goddess of grain and harvest, Demeter.
There had been rumors floating around the last few times Hades had made trips to Mount Olympus. Demeter had a beautiful daughter who could create life effortlessly. Any fruiting plant she touched was blessed with a bounty, and soil that had not been fertile in centuries sprouted trees beneath her feet. The only fact anyone could agree on was that the goddess’s name was Kore.
Demeter guarded her daughter like a jealous secret, and now Hades understood why.
She was breathtaking.
A few minutes later, Kore emerged from the cave with a clay pot in her hands, full of dirt and a single plant. “I’ve been keeping it alive for you,” she said, holding the pot out to Hades for him to take. Hades carefully, delicately, took the pot from her hands and held it up close to his face. He breathed in the scent of the tiny purple flowers covering the plant stems. It was earthy and bittersweet, yet soothing. He could feel himself relaxing as he continued to inhale the scent.
“They’re called lavender,” Kore said. “I personally prefer the roses, but I noticed you seemed to like these ones that night when I found you in the field.”
“It’s lovely,” Hades replied softly before handing the pot back to her. “Thank you.”
Kore smiled and pushed the pot towards him. “Keep it,” she said.
“I couldn’t,” Hades replied sadly.
“I insist,” Kore said.
“It doesn’t belong in my realm.”
At this, Kore raised an eyebrow, her smile faltering a little. “What does that mean?” she asked. “I’m sure it would do your realm some good, wherever it is. Flowers almost always brighten up a place.”
“It would die there,” Hades said, and he finally set the pot in Kore’s hands and turned around, his ears twitching as he caught the sound of footsteps approaching. “I shouldn’t be here,” he whispered.
“What do you mean?” Kore asked.
“Do not tell your mother I was here.”
“What–?”
“Kore!” called a voice in the distance, and ice shot through Hades’s veins as he recognized the speaker. Demeter was coming.
“Goodbye,” Hades said, and he melted into the shadows, retreating quickly back to the underworld.
He would never let Kore see him again. Nothing good could come of it.
Centuries later, Thanatos sought Hades out within the underworld. Hades sat stiffly upon his throne as the Retriever of Souls knelt at his feet, the red plates of his shell a stark contrast to the dark, earthy grays and browns of the surrounding cavern. “Sire,” began Thanatos. “A goddess was caught trying to sneak into the underworld with the shades. She says she knows you.”
Hades’s breath caught.
“Do you know her name?” he asked quickly.
“She says her name is Kore, sire.”
Hades stood quickly, hurrying past Thanatos through the tunnels that led to the fields of Asphodel, the god of death quickly following behind. Why was she here? How had she managed to find a way in? The way to the underworld was barred to all save a few gods; himself, Thanatos, and Hermes.
And why was she seeking him out?
Soon, the two gods emerged from the caverns and into the fields of Asphodel, an infinite expanse of meadow covered with ghostly white flowers and the souls of the dead wandering aimlessly. Hades had to shove past a few souls in his haste. “Where is she?” he asked Thanatos.
“At the entrance,” the other god replied. “Cerberus wouldn’t let her come in.”
At that, Hades let himself fade into the shadows, reappearing moments later near the banks of the river Styx in front of a very startled Kore. “What are you doing here?” Hades demanded. “You don’t belong here!”
“I didn’t know where else to go!” Kore shouted back, startling Hades a little. “I-I don’t–” Tears were welling in her eyes, and Hades froze. “My mother and I… We had a fight. Hermes was there and he said I could stay here… Please, I just…” She bit back a sob as she wiped at her eyes. “I don’t have anywhere else to go! If I go to Olympus, my mother will come and get me and I can’t go back to being alone, please!”
Hades was quiet for a moment as Kore sobbed and hiccuped. He was angry–no, furious– with Hermes for bringing her here, but he could understand why he would have offered. And Hermes could keep a secret; that certainly wouldn’t be a problem. But the underworld wasn’t just a place to keep the dead. It harbored horrors that could be the downfall of the gods, especially if Kore found her way into Tartarus, where the worst monsters imaginable lurked and prowled.
Still, Hades wasn’t heartless.
“You may stay here for a time,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting you to come seeking me out.”
Kore took a shaky breath. “Neither was I,” she said. “I didn’t know Hermes knew how to get here, but he wasn’t very far when I left. He led me part of the way here before Zeus summoned him for something. I don’t know what it was. But his instructions led me here. I’m surprised Charon let me on the ferry.”
Hades sighed. “He’s not one to pay much attention to details,” he said. This wasn’t the first time the big cat ferryman had let someone into the underworld who didn’t belong. He turned and gestured towards Cerberus, who stood several feet away, all three sets of hackles sticking up. “That’s why I have him.”
“He almost bit me,” Kore said.
“That’s sort of his job,” Hades replied. “We’ll just have to get him used to you. If I lead you in though, he won’t take a snap at you again. Come on.”
Hades led the way past the three-headed dog, who growled at Kore but kept his distance as they made their way into the rest of the underworld. Shades joined them, unintentionally crowding around them as they drifted to the Pavillion of Judgement. Kore shuddered behind Hades, and he instinctively reached out and grasped her hand.
He panicked a little when he realized what he’d done, but when he tried to pull his hand back, she squeezed it, a silent request for him to stay. Hades felt his cheeks flush but said nothing as they continued on through the fields of Asphodel. He looked back every so often, his eyebrows creasing with worry at how exhausted she looked. He needed to figure out where exactly she would be staying…
There were plenty of empty rooms in his palace. They weren’t often used, so Hades usually saw no point in having the servants maintain them. That would be his first order of business then. He’d scope out the rooms himself and decide which one would be the most comfortable for her, then have his servants make it usable. Hopefully it wouldn’t take too long; Kore looked like she really needed rest.
“Thank you,” she said behind him, her voice a little croaky before she cleared her throat. “Thank you for helping me. I’m sorry if this is an inconvenience to you. I just…” She sighed as she trailed off.
“There’s no need to apologize,” Hades said. “If there is one thing I understand, it’s family troubles. After all, Zeus is my brother. I’m happy to give you a place to rest while you figure things out. I’m sorry if I seemed upset earlier. I was just… surprised is all.”
Kore squeezed his hand again, and when Hades looked back, she was giving him a warm, tired smile. “Still,” she said, “thank you.”
Hades blushed again and turned away as they finally reached the entrance to the tunnels that led to the palace. Thanatos still stood there, confusion scrunching his brows as he looked over at Kore. “Sire, I thought–”
“There’s been a change of plans,” Hades said. “You should go back up to the mortal realm. I get the feeling things are going to be hectic up there.”
Thanatos nodded and hurried away. Hades led Kore down into the tunnels, warning her to watch her step as they made their way towards the throne room. A few servants appeared along their path, and Hades sent them away to gather the others. After a little while, Kore finally let go of his hand, leaving it empty and strangely cold. He didn’t say anything about it though, and once they finally reached the throne room, Hades told Kore to sit down and rest on a cushion while he tended to other matters.
One of those other matters included sending a message to Hermes and asking him what in Gaia’s name had possessed him to think bringing a life goddess to the Underworld was a good idea. Hades would still do his best to keep Kore safe and comfortable, but that didn’t mean there suddenly wasn’t any risk. He knew the messenger god of thieves was impulsive, but this bordered on stupid.
It didn’t take Hades long to choose a room for Kore though. In the courtyard, there was a single pomegranate tree that hadn’t borne fruit since before the Titan war. Miraculously though, it still grew, and it towered high above the rest of the palace. Perhaps there was a patch of sunlight that Hades could no longer see through the thick branches. In any case, there was a room on the opposite side of the palace as Hades’s that had a close view of the tree. He hoped she would like it.
Once he’d chosen the room, he left the servants to clean it up while he went to check on Kore. She had stood up to walk around a little bit while he’d been gone, and he found her curiously inspecting the spikes behind his throne. “What are these?’ she asked when he entered the room.
“Bones,” Hades replied, and Kore recoiled. “I’ve never been terribly fond of them either. They’re a remnant of Tartarus.”
Kore tilted her head at him. “You mean these are his bones?” she asked.
Hades chuckled and shook his head. “Before the war with the Giants, the Underworld belonged to him. He fashioned that throne himself.”
Kore frowned. “But I thought you took over this place after the Titan War?” she said.
Hades shook his head. “I didn’t take it over,” he said. “Zeus sent me down here to punish me.”
“For what?”
“I’ve never been able to figure that out.”
Kore’s eyes widened, but she stayed silent, a mix of fury and pity in her expression.
“It’s fine,” Hades said. “I’m used to it now.”
“Just because you’re used to it doesn’t mean it’s fair,” Kore retorted. “Why don’t you fight back?”
“I’ve tried,” Hades said, his voice hardening. “But no one else wants to take up my position. Most of the gods can’t even conceptualize what death is, and the ones who can are either the ones sending souls down in their stupid little mortal wars or the ones helping me collect the lost ones. They banished Thanatos here too. They never let him up on Olympus. I’m only allowed up there occasionally because I rule the realm. I don’t take souls. I welcome them, sort them, and deliver justice. In their eyes I’m likely no better than Zeus.”
“What about Hermes?” Kore asked. “Why is he allowed to go back and forth?”
Hades shrugged. “He just sort of showed up one day,” he said. “He asked if he could be of use, and I put him to work helping Thanatos. Knowing him now I think he was simply bored.”
Kore chuckled. “Yeah, that sounds like him,” she said, and there was a hint of fondness in her voice that immediately soured Hades’s mood.
It would be better that way though, even if Hermes was a reckless idiot. Kore deserved much better than Hades could give her.
Still, that didn’t change the fact that he wished he could.