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“So,” he starts, trying and failing to act nonchalant.
“So?” a girl repeats, her eyebrows touching.
“You’ve been awfully quiet.”
Melinoë shrugs, her head falling on her right shoulder. Her arms crossed over her chest and she observes him sitting cross-legged on the floor. He can barely move his head to the right from where he lays to see his little sister.
“If you’re anything like me, I’m quite sure you’re dying to keep asking me questions and muse about random subjects.”
“What if I am not like you.”
The snap was unexpected, even by the girl herself.
She watches as Zagreus’s little grin falls and transforms into a kicked puppy in the blink of an eye. It’s painful, making her immediately regret the wrong choice of words that escaped her foul mouth.
“What I mean is-” she stutters, panicking. “I’m… I don’t know you.”
“Yeah, kind of difficult task when I’m absent for most of your life,” he cracks a lame joke. He observes her, just like he had been for the entire time he was awake. She hadn’t left her tent from the moment his eyes opened. “You’ve copied my eyes. It’s not fair, don’t you think? I’ve had them first.”
This dry kind of humour lands a hit close to home. Too close. She snorts, and yet feels her eyes sting. She tries to blink the tears away and succeeds, just barely.
“You look exactly like the boy in that painting,” she whispers. “I… I don’t know why I thought you wouldn’t. That it somehow wasn’t accurate enough for it. I should’ve known it was supposed to.”
It’s his time to snort as he slowly sits up, groaning a little. “Well, you look completely different. I don’t remember you having so many hairs. Nor teeth. Nor not fitting into the crook of my arm. You’re an adult,” he summarises, spitting out the last phrase in shock. Maybe disappointment. “I never got to hear you talk for the first time.” His eyes close, and a terrible grimace covers the long-gone smile.
It’s all Melinoë needs to let the tears fall down her cheeks. Her eyes shut tightly as she inhales sharply to hide a sob threatening to break out of her throat.
“I had a bet with our Father, Hades.”
The princess dares to glance at her brother to encourage him to continue.
“About what your first world will be. I was pretty sure it would’ve been Zag. I was constantly speaking about myself in the third person just to stimulate you enough.” His new smile’s sadder, more desperate. “He wanted it to be Father,” he added in a whisper.
“He did?” the blonde gasps, rubbing her eyes.
“You should’ve seen his trials and tribulations to achieve so. I had never even imagined him being so… soft,” he mumbles in barely acknowledgable awe at the memory.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, the girl speaks. “I’ve met him. Our Father, Lord Hades.”
His eyes shoot up to meet hers, lips slightly parted, and Melinoë watches as his pupils dilate in shock.
“He-”
“Chronos keeps him in Tartarus,” she reveals. “Chained in one of the chambers.”
“But he’s-” his voice cracks as he starts to stand up.
“He’s alive and, well-not. Not well, but stable, from what I’ve seen.”
Zagreus keeps blinking at her with his eyes as huge as plates. “Have you seen anybody else?”
“No,” she admits lamely. “I’m so sorry-”
He lets out an unsteady breath, shaking his head. “Don’t. It’s not your fault,” he mumbles, the faint light of hope disappearing from his eyes.
She wishes she knew what to tell him and how to console him. But she does not so she can only offer him her presence. Not much, but a start nonetheless.
Zagreus wasn’t supposed to leave the tent for a long time.
Of course, just like her, the prince is full of stubbornness, which leads him out of it definitely too soon to be fully conscious of time and space around him. Much to Melinoë surprise, as the girl has been in the middle of chatting with Moros, her facing her tent and the Doom Incarnate with his back to it. Both of them are confused as Zagreus emerges from it, his head locked on Moros, as a weak Than! escapes his mouth.
Caught off guard, Lord Moros whips his long hair when he turns to face the source of the sound. Melinoë can only frown at the way the realisation hits Zagreus like a blast from a wretch. He falters, the thin hair of hope he's been holding onto instantly disappearing into the air like a fog.
“I-I’m sorry, I thought-”
“It’s alright, Prince Zagreus,” the Doom answers calmly, though something changed at the mention of his brother. “I also wish he was here.”
The painted expression on her brother’s face is heartbreaking for Melinoë’s feelings, still bleeding with such raw emotions. He moves closer to them, standing between the young goddess and his parter's brother.
“His hair was as long as yours,” he explains with a tight tone. “Long ago. Long before-" he stops abruptly, as if caught himself saying something he should. "And I, I would suggest it from time to time, growing it to that length once more. He would’ve always refused. He was quite stubborn god.” The ending has a much lighter tone, but the yearning for the reunion still strong and proud within him.
She's heard the stories, of course, of her brother's great love for the Death himself. She's familiar with the idea from the beginning, and looking at Moros, she realises he's been thinking the same.
She wonders if Lord Thanatos would like her, if they would ever meet...
“We’ll find him,” she promises and hopes she will be able to keep that promise. “Once we wake up Lord Hypnos-”
“Hypnos is here?!”
She catches him staring at the painting in every moment he can spare. Sometimes he just looks at it, as if trying to pierce it with his gaze alone. And then, there are times when he dares to run his fingertips along it. He does that so often, and yet Melinoë never dares to interrupt him, too scared to destroy a precious moment with what is left of their family.
“It’s a shame it was never finished, you know,” her brother says, for the first time when looking at it. “It lacks of one member.”
“What?” confused, she approaches him. “Who?”
“Cerberus,” he sighs, touching the empty part above Hades. “He was supposed to stand over us, protect us. That adorable beast.”
She can only stare, still puzzled, once at the picture and then at her brother. “Cerberus on the family painting?”
“Yes?” Zag gives her a half smile. “You know, our three-headed family pup? I wish you could’ve grown up with him. Cerberus adored you, Mellie.” The sadness never leaves him during times like this. “When Mother was pregnant she would’ve spent days or nights sitting at his side, petting him while he gently rubbed into her. Then, he would’ve stood guard at the entrance to our parents’ rooms. Making sure no one would disturb his Queen and Princess in their slumbers. Had I not been more careful when holding you near his snout, he would have licked you to death.”
Flinching, the princess frowns at the other god. “Really? But he-” She bites her tongue. Just now she’s realised Zagreus has no idea what happened to the once-guardian of the Underworld.
“He?” he prompts, yearning to know more about his furry friend.
“I must face him on my way down,” she meekly confesses. “Chronos took the poor thing. Each time he… he hurts him, cursing him to do his bidding.”
Timidly, the young goddess seeks Zagreus’ reaction only to meet with a cold gaze, burning with hatred, familiar to her own.
“Each time I meet Hades in that chamber, the three-headed dog is right there. Protecting him as long as he’s able to before being taken once more. And…” she has some difficulty swallowing her saliva. “And he does not recognise me any more, that adorable beast, as you’ve called him. He growls when I try to touch him, scared I will bring him harm. Even though Father is right there next to me.” She looks at him from under her eyelashes. “I’m sorry I can’t help him more.”
“That monster,” Zagreus finally speaks, his words spitting out with venom.
A heavy hand lands on her naked shoulder. “We’ll save them. All of them.” He squeezes it once before leaving her alone with her thoughts and the painting.
Somehow, the silence seems too loud.
Usually, when bickering with Nemesis, Mellie tries to keep up with the smart phrases to respond with. She falters when her eyes fall upon her brother. Prince Zagreus looks at them with a pained smile, a well-known one to her at this point. He has it almost all the time in the Crossroads. She tries and fails to come up with an explanation for it, so, with a lack of better options, decides to ask some questions about it.
“You know, you’re always welcome to join in any conversation at any time, right?” she chuckles, although it doesn’t seem right. “I have no idea what rules were in place at the House of Hades but here-”
She halts at the sudden awareness of her words. What was it like? What the House had been before Chronos usurped the throne? Every member of it must've known. And yet, one day they all will reunite there and she will be left alone like a stranger-
“She just… Nemesis that is… She kind of reminds me of an old friend of mine. A Fury.”
“Oh? Really?” Melinoë manages to keep up the mask of seriousness, not wanting to unintentionally harm the prince with her choice of words and reactions. “Which one? Megaera?”
Zagreus hums, lost in his thought. “Preferably, yes. She looks at you with almost so much annoyance and tiresomeness as Meg used to stare at me. Darkness, you should’ve seen her at the end of Tartarus on each of my runs.”
She hopes the subject is drained, so the princess starts to talk towards her tent.
“I… I hope you will one day or night.”
The blonde sends him the smile she hopes would be enough to show her support for his stories.
Melinoë craves the life taken from her now more than ever.
The princess returns from the hot springs alone. This particular day has been sacrificed only for her needs and rest, as per Zagreus’ orders.
She wonders if it was normal. She wonders if they would be this close if they’d been raised in the same House. She wonders if Zagreus’ affections are only a desperate need to connect with someone from his family. If someone else had been liberated, like Lord Thanatos, if her brother would still want her around so much.
She can never grow accustomed to his constant presence. And, well, yapping, as Odysseus has called it. Not a painting, a living (well, not really), breathing, very much physically here brother. His voice no longer not only a fruit of her imagination. His gaze not only an awe for a newly born child. His thoughts shared with her weren't her own conscious, only his own brain. The fairytales of her home, her first home, the one she had been born into, she dreamt about, but now she had someone who could tell her real situations, who could present her with real habitants of the supposedly ever-busy House.
And yet all his sharing has brought only more emptiness into her heart.
Zagreus stands with Odysseus when she approaches him. The shade chuckles under his nose, looking quite amused at something Zagreus has exclaimed.
“Ah yes, brilliant Achilles. The great Achilles, that man-god-whatever he was.”
“He did mention you, Odysseus, sir. Spoke quite honourable of you.”
“Did he?” he seems genuinely confused. “That little-”
“Did you know Lord Achilles well, Zag?”
He flinches as he hasn’t heard her steps. “Mells! Back already?”
The girl smiles with exhaustion easy to notice behind her eyes. “I’m curious to see if I’m more tired of sitting around and doing nothing than I am while trying to bring Chronos down.”
Zagreus snorts at that. “You would’ve gone crazy in the House with Father. First, he would expect you to sit around and do nothing and then hush, suddenly you’re worthless because you’re not doing anything. And Mother-At least she would find you something you would actually enjoy doing, you know, sis?” His head shakes with gloomy laughter. “Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I would much prefer to fight that annoying little vermin. I miss that blasted ball of fur.”
He fails to notice the way his sister frowns at him during his little rant.
Her feelings aren’t quite in the right place, she realises. Melinoë used to daydream about living in the House of Hades. Of having a complete family. Of finally petting Cerberus, playing with him even if she could just dare to imagine that. Of not having this misplaced sense of duty that slaying Titans would bring her freedom to return to her rightful place. Which was never really hers in the first place.
It finally strikes her how she and Zagreus are so profoundly different in so many fields. She was just a witch playing a little goddess. Hence, it brings her so much pain and envy of him being born in the times when it was all simply… easier.
The rest of his words mixes into a snowball of white noise as she keeps staring into the eyes so familiar and yet so alien to her.