Chapter Text
Augh... Melinoë had never endured the surface world for such extended periods of time. A fortunate clash of circumstances happened to ensue this evening: just as Icarus flew overhead, Dionysus offered his blessing via the fig leaf keepsake, granting the two of them a leisurely evening cruise. The legions of the dead, frankly, could hold off for a few minutes... Or, they told themselves it would be a few. Minutes turned to hours, and only came to cease because a rather impatient Strife took to surveying the fleet herself. A brief wing-measuring competition ensued, much to Mel’s chagrin, but the night’s regular course followed thusly.
Still illuminated under the moon’s soft silver glow, the usual journey up the base of Olympus proved unaffected by her little distractions. Prometheus snuck in one of his usual foresight jabs, teasing her for succumbing to temptation—the flame thief truly devoted himself to provocation. Yet Typhon’s assault on the fortress had not quickened, the forces of Chronos had not readied some stronger battle formation... The Titan’s combat intelligence clearly held a few weak spots.
As she planted her dagger firmly within that massive red eye, blood gushing out in rivers as usual, Melinoë could not help but feel some greater light overtaking her. First assessments told her she had purely enjoyed this evening more than most. The extended stay with her favorite shade and master craftsman had been quite enjoyable, even without the amenities of the hot springs or taverna to keep them company. Thus, the budding sense of warmth. Yet... That couldn’t be it. On prior journeys, both through the Underworld and the surface, she had taken some liberal break time, devoid of any excuse beyond mere pleasure. This feeling, a comforting embrace, differed from all those other nights.
Lord Uncle can wait a minute, Mel convinced herself, eyes drifting off to the horizon as she contemplated the strange sensation. A minute would prove to be far too much time, however—the answer immediately presented itself on that far edge of Greece, rays of orange and pink emanating from below the earth and piercing through the blackened night. Oh, gods... We truly took our time in Thessaly, didn’t we?
Not wanting to keep her Olympian family wondering any longer, Melinoë felt her feet move of their own volition, not waiting for any rational thought to command her. The gates were just a short distance away, within a stone’s throw, when a voice echoed over the peak. An unfamiliar woman called out to her, and her head turned to meet their inevitable gaze... yet this stranger seemed to surround Mel on all sides, emanating from the sky itself.
“Good gods above and below, is that really you?!”
The sound of horses stood out to Melinoë amidst the shout, a rather curious accompaniment. Already a rare encounter for the princess of the dead, made all the more mystifying by their current altitude. Yet these mighty steeds rose not from the plains below, but descended from the skies above, leading a gilded chariot of marble and saffron. The goddess holding the reins, by all means a stranger, invoked a strong sense of family still—a resemblance far too uncanny to be a coincidence. Of course. The night had run its course; now, here to phase the world forward, was a future bearer of the umbral flames, prophesied lover to Moros... Rosy-fingered Dawn herself.
“Melinoë! Oh, I thought it might be forever until we could finally meet! Sister Selene waxes poetic about your devotion and blossoming strength whenever we speak, but I know too well how you silver sisters are—operating under the moon and all.” The titaness leapt from her carriage joyously, though she never quite reached the ground. Bare feet slowed to a halt above the stones of Olympus, hovering in a way not unlike what the devil sparks of Supay could cause. And just as streaks of light traced their path across the sky, beams of radiant joy seemed to emanate from Eos. “Yet here you are! Your first ever dawn, and what a view to go with it! Couldn’t have picked a better spot in all of Greece. So? What do you think, darling? Everything you dreamed and more?”
Melinoë could not answer in truth, for she did not grant herself the luxury of dreams. Perhaps an aspirational plan here or there, thoughts of life after her grandfather’s defeat... A reunion in the reclaimed House of Hades, perhaps, or more regular outings with those she held dear. No longer constrained by—well, time. Among her short list of future priorities, experiencing the dawn from such a vantage point had not once crossed her mind.
Yet the colors spilling forth, the warm kiss of the sun—a far cry from the flames beneath a cauldron, or the pooling lava of Asphodel—this blissful yet silent sensation resonated within the princess of the Underworld. Among the other luxuries in which she refused to partake, hope had become one of them. This current moment, however, proved enough to break that vow. The storm clouds had parted, leaving only beauty in their wake. A future she now desired for herself.
“I... I’d never imagined such stunning radiance before. With Chronos spreading his influence, infecting Tartarus with his visage like some decrepit plague... I’ve almost come to detest gold,” Melinoë murmured, nearly losing her grip on the sister blades as she took in the view one last time. “You... may have changed that for me, Eos. This was just one fleeting moment, but your rosy touch, the way you’ve transformed the skies... I’ll remember this. Fight for it. And, with any luck... I hope to see it again soon.”
The titaness immediately brought her hands together before her chest, squealing with delight at the poetic proclamation. “Oh, Melinoë, you little charmer, you~! If I had my way, I’d push ahead my schedule just to give you that gift once more... But I’d hate to disrespect Selene in such a way. If you’ve ever some time to spare, I’d be overjoyed to see you again; just, ah, mission first! You’re far from the slacking type, and now’s not the time to change for little old me.”
Returning to her chariot, Eos offered the princess one last wave goodbye, grinning from ear to ear as she urged her horses back into action. The dawn was fleeting, and thus was its embodiment; there one minute, gone the next. Likely, Zeus hadn’t even been made aware of her descent, save for the off chance Hermes had spotted the chariot touching down. And if her arrival happened to be a secret... It was one Melinoë felt content to keep. Just the two of them, sharing that touchless embrace of tenderness at the mountain’s peak.
... Selene would still probably hear before the next night, of course.