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Zagreus arose in the blood pool yet again with renewed fervor in his heart. This time, however, he had a new goal in mind, beyond simply testing the underworld’s defenses or getting to see his long-lost mother during her months on the surface. A quick glance around his father’s halls revealed both Thanatos and Megaera taking a well-earned break in the lounge. He grinned and sat to join them.
“You look like the Fury who’s caught the trespassing shade,” Thanatos remarked, leaning back in his chair.
“So, my mother told me about these things called picnics,” Zagreus explained, voice high with delight. “You take food, and a blanket, and sit around in the fresh air.”
“You know we’re all chthonic gods who die if we’re above the earth’s surface for more than an hour,” Megaera reminded him. “And we don’t really eat, either.”
“Two problems that solve each other!” Zagreus countered. “We only have to stay long enough to drink a bottle of nectar. And besides, we’ll just end up back here anyway.”
Thanatos and Megaera shared a look that Zagreus was starting to recognize as the “if it’s important for our mutual partner, it’s important for us” look.
“It would be nice to experience a fun picnic for a change,” Thanatos drawled. “Usually I’m only invited because someone choked on a fig.” Megaera and Zagreus each laid a comforting hand on one of his knees.
“And having a little time away from my sisters would…also be appreciated,” Megaera admitted. “Alright, let us know when you get to the surface.”
Three failed attempts later, Zagreus stood, breathing hard, in the courtyard of the Temple of Styx, having just finished another round of what counted as father and son playing catch, at least for them. He sat, and wiped the ichor from his sword before sheathing it and waiting. His father’s return to his halls was the agreed-upon signal, so it was only a matter of time - a commodity of which he had plenty, at least until he left the temple's grounds. But soon enough his partners joined him.
“It’s freezing,” Megaera snapped, used to the toasty temperatures that marked the boundary between Tartarus and Asphodel. “Come on, your mother’s garden is this way, you said?” Behind her back, Thanatos glared at Zagreus, who dropped the snowball he was forming.
A few minutes’ walk took them to Persephone’s cottage and garden, ever verdant and timelessly cozy. Perfect, Zagreus thought, for a short picnic.
Persephone came out to join them as they were spreading the cloth out. “It’s so nice to see all three of you again, together and happy” she beamed. “Like mother, father, and adoptive mother, like son, son’s boyfriend, and son’s girlfriend.”
“Wait, what?” Zagreus nearly spilled the bottle of nectar he was opening. “You? And father? And Nyx?”
Persephone merely shrugged and sat, stretching her legs out on the grass. “How much detail do you really want, my son?”
“You know, none is probably the right answer to that question,” Zagreus admitted as the others opened their drinks. “Cheers, everyone.”
Half an hour of quiet conversation later, Megaera yawned and laid down as if for a nap. “You know, for being a plan where we’re all going to die at the end, this was a pretty good idea, Zag. Thanks.”
“You’re, um, welcome?” Zagreus replied. “Usually I’m coughing painfully by now.”
“Oh, yeah. That’s me. Painless and natural death.” Thanatos would have blushed if he had blood in his cheeks. Instead he pulled Zagreus down to lie between them, nuzzling against his shoulder.
“I’ll have to remember that for next time,” Zagreus muttered. “When was the last time I had a decent night’s sleep?” he wondered aloud, eyelids growing heavy.
Persephone pressed a kiss to his forehead, stood, and stepped back as a portal to the underworld swallowed the three lovers, blanket and all. “I’ll see you again soon, my dear boy,” she murmured to her empty garden. If not here, she thought, gazing over at her crops, soon ready to harvest, then down below. And really, she was eager to see her husband and Nyx again, too. Until then, she thought, and went back to tending her plants, humming a tune, a slight taste of nectar still on her lips.