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Charon is not a patient being. Everyone assumes he is, many of his siblings included. Anyone who has met him knows him to be still, brooding, and always waiting. The rumors say the same. He stands and he waits. He waits for shades to board his ferry. He waits for customers in his shop. He is always busy. Always busy in a slow way.
The shades take their time, not quite ready to give him the obol that grants them passage. When he is not waiting, he is allowed to restock, to ferry the passengers along the Styx. He is prone to miss things in these more busy states. Otherwise, he waits, he counts the obols and the seconds. Although busy, he finds that he longs for company in the silence of moments. He finds himself itching for something. Someone.
Charon is not a patient being. He is tireless. Feelings gnawing at him from the inside. He huffs out violet smoke in annoyance. For Hermes, though, he tries to be patient.
Hermes is patient. Everyone assumes he isn't. Though, maybe he’s patient because he’s always in a hurry and he finds satisfaction in slowing down. Perhaps his patience stems from the fact that the things he wants to come sooner, come in the midst of his bustle. He has no time to think of the future.
He is patient in the way that he is always moving, always productive, always doing something to keep an unwanted type of slowness at bay. He must be an avalanche coming quickly, always fluttering about, always doing tasks and reminding people of things. There are moments it gets on his nerves, but Hermes is patient. He allows duty and tasks to fill his time so that waiting feels like nothing. He always has something to do. Even then, he yearns for a moment to slow down and rest. He aches for a sliver of time for himself and perhaps someone else as well.
Hermes is more patient than anyone could ever tell. He is tired. Warmth radiating from the inside. He laughs at the prospect of getting to see his favorite being. For Charon, though, he is unable to wait.
Time crawls too slowly for Charon. Maybe the monotony is getting to him. Or perhaps it is because a little bird has not yet stopped by in quite some time. A few months. Nothing in the grand scheme of things, still he yearns. Hermes is always in a rush these days. Dropping off souls quickly before leaving. These days, if Charon is lucky, he can hear the faint sound of Hermes’s humming and the flap of wings.
The shades that board his ferry are bare and thin. It’s only a little unusual as they are all so much paler as well. A noticeable shade lighter. Charon let out a groan to himself, there must be a plague. He wonders which god is the cause of it all. It’s always the Olympians causing trouble after all. He wishes Hermes were here so he could recount the story. Here on his boat, all he can learn is from the shades, but they are too scared to converse with him.
Hermes is flying around, delivering messages from Zeus to one of the many women he was pursuing. In his mind, he’s deciding how to tell Charon of everything. Charon. He misses him so much. He longs to be able to slow down and talk to the gentle boatman. He aches being able to chatter aimlessly and have a companion to ask questions or add small quips.
Hermes is tired. He’s been patient, waiting for his time to rest. Plague overwhelms the surface. A miasmic disease that travels just as fast as the god himself, and leaves villages and cities to its knees. It is not just the disease that renders Hermes weary. Those who have become ill have been sent to take a voyage to the sea for their health, as the patron of travel, he watches over their journeys with a close eye. Hera and Zeus are fighting, in a fit of rage, Hera convinces Demeter to release a plague on Zeus’s newest pet’s kingdom. The commotion between the gods has died down, but the disease lingers. Many souls are lost. Hermes just wants to rest on a certain skiff and talk about nothing.
Charon is starting to tire of the stretch without seeing Hermes. It’s often too silent. The shades have yet to spill any secrets. He longs to hear everything and nothing. As he drifts along the Styx, he wonders what Hermes is up to. He ponders which path to take the god when the two have a chance to rest and enjoy each other’s company.
Charon comes to a stop and begins to allow shades aboard. There’s the familiar thrum of the beating of wings.
“Fancy meeting you here, boss!”
He groans in surprise to see Hermes. He’s delighted when the small god takes his face in his hands and peppers kisses on it.
“Now, I’m in quite the hurry, but I must say, I missed you a lot.”
Before Charon can respond, the little bird has already left. Disappointment settles in his stomach at not having longer. For Hermes, he tells himself, the wait will be worth it.
When Hermes leaves, there’s a weight on his shoulders. He wishes he could stay longer. Still, the messages in his bag pile up. Hephaestus requires a shipment, there are several merchants traveling that call upon him for safety and good sales, Ares requested his presence for some thing or another.
He’s unused to the stirring in his heart. It’s impossible to ignore the feeling over the rush of the day. Soon, he promises himself, he will see Charon.
The small reprieve of not seeing his beloved is just enough fuel for him to continue. Charon continues to pick up shades and ferry them off. Obols glide through his fingers like water. Goods sell. He is mostly able to keep sane in the silence of the Underworld and in the murmur of his thoughts.
Seeing Charon sets Hermes in a flurry. There is no better motivation than taking in his lover for more than mere minutes. Messages are delivered, accurately but a little carelessly. Blessings are made. A few of the gods pick up on his frenzy, some push the restless god to actually rest. He’ll rest when the work is done, he tells them. He is starting to go insane in the rush and the inability to hear his own thoughts.
It must be nearing a year when Charon is next greeted by Hermes at the shore of the Styx. He greets the god.
“Why, my dear professional associate, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you missed me.”
The boatman lets out a light groan, correcting the bright god. A blush rises to Hermes’s face.
“I missed you too,” he says, “Perhaps I should reward you for your patience.”
He presses a kiss to Charon’s face. Before he’s able to pull away completely, the chthonic god’s hands come to rest around his waist. The two continue to share a few chaste kisses.
Hermes laughs, “It’s so good to see you.”
Charon questions the statement.
“What? I’m not allowed to be excited to see my favorite lover?” He teases, “Well, I’m finally free for a bit. Why don’t I tell you about the mess Zeus, Hera, and Demeter started…”