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Thanatos had gotten all too well adjusted to the desolate quiet that was his quarters in the House. He kept the space neat, though not consciously. He simply knew he had no need for clutter, no clothes beyond what he considered covered him reasonably on his person, no knick-knacks strewn about, nor parchments hung on the walls of his bedroom. In the early days, when his duty weighed on his shoulders with the gravity of a boulder many times his size, his brief respite in the House was spent either giving reports to Nyx or Hades himself. Even then, the word respite being used to describe what the house was to Thanatos seemed like an overstatement.
But it was a familiar pattern. The ache of his duty to guide willing souls out of their bodies and to his brother’s boat, down the river Styx, was soothed by the sheer emptiness of his bedroom. Lit only by a few candles, the darkness of the room felt all too easy to lose himself in. It felt freeing to pretend there was nothing, no one but himself left.
For a moment, he was weightless. And then he was back to work. Then recharging his energy in the abyss of his personal confines. Then back to shouldering the burden. It was what he’d been created for, an eternity of reaping.
And then the one they called his brother came along with two mix-matched eyes that looked nothing like his, or Nyx’s, or any of Thanatos’ other siblings. His interactions with his other siblings were in passing, only occurring when he was outside of the confines of his room and had free time– two very rare occurrences. But Zagreus was unlike anyone else. There were no responsibilities thrust onto him that he managed to complete successfully or failed to shake off, so he tended to bother Thanatos whenever he spotted him. No one knew what his purpose was quite yet. Unlike the Chthonic gods who came into being with a sole purpose, or the Olympic gods sometimes borne of something related to their domain, the circumstances of Zagreus’ birth were veiled in mystery.
The seed of doubt had sewn itself long ago, but Thanatos wouldn’t dare question Nyx, much less Hades himself; even when the boy’s odd behaviors couldn’t be traced back to either of the two gods claiming to be his parents.
Rather, they reminded Thanatos of someone else.
“Than, you’re still here!” The troublesome, gangly boy in question greeted with as much enthusiasm as ever, “Father told me you were home!”
Thanatos could have sworn Zagreus was shorter when last Thanatos returned to the House, though he was still quite a ways away from Thanatos’ height: even if the latter weren’t floating.
“Hello, Zagreus.” His voice rang with an empty sense of decorum and properness, “I do have a job to do.” He remembered the Prince’s status more often than Zagreus seemed to, much to the dismay of both his father and “their” mother.
Thanatos trusted the boy, who bled red blood and had been the liveliest thing Thanatos had ever seen in the Underworld, about as much as he trusted what he had been told about Zagreus’ origins. That was to say that Thanatos trusted him very, very little. Thanatos had never been daft. Thanatos had never seen a god that bled anything but ichor, or that grew up so quickly. He could think of one kind of being that did, but trying to solve the puzzle of it all only made Thanatos realize how many pieces he was still missing.
Besides, he had bigger things to worry about than the House’s newest, not even greatest mysteries–
“I’ve got something for you!” Zagreus proclaimed. Thanatos held back a confused sneer. From behind Zagreus’ back came a platter topped with pomegranate arils, the arils of at least a few different pomegranates, husks and white rind nowhere in sight.
“Pomegranate?” Thanatos asked blankly, the flat affect of his voice emphasized in every unimpressed syllable.
“A good snack after work,” Zagreus beamed with a cant of his head to peek at Thanatos from the other side of the plate, “I like to have a snack after training with Achilles. Keeps your energy up and that!” The new angle forced Thanatos to move his gaze elsewhere, where it eventually fell on the pomegranate juice staining Zagreus’ hands and the flesh still stuck in and around his nails.
Thanatos clicked his tongue with thinly veiled disgust. He never had a strong desire for foodstuffs. He understood that pomegranates could grant one a great deal of added power. But Thanatos, of all of the servants of the house, required that added power the least.
“I have no need for this.”
“But I peeled them for you…” The thought of consumption sickened him almost as much as the thought of the stickiness on his fingers afterwards did. Eating was undignified, reminding him of all of the sensations of his physical form he dissociated himself from on the regular. He tried other fruits before, offerings left at the bedside of those who had yet to even pass on. Their rinds were thick and bitter.
But these were no rinds. They were floral and sweet, fresh with supple flesh surrounding those small seeds.
Thanatos tried to explain it to Zagreus before, the tugging of whatever existed within him that was soul-like, the very essence of himself being pulled into the direction of the parting soul to guide it to its eternal resting place– home.
“You never stay long when you come back, Than,” Zagreus grumbled, “It doesn’t even feel like a whole day or night. It can’t be.” This wasn’t the first time Zagreus had voiced those gripes with Thanatos’ schedule. There was little, if anything, that could be done— even in the case that Thanatos would rather be spending time in the restless house and with the even more rambunctious son of Hades.
Thanatos would much rather it over the misery he caused with his work, but who was he to complain about the workload? He was nothing more than a Chthonic god, made for nothing more than fulfilling his grim duties— not unraveling the House’s secrets or entertaining Zagreus. But Zagreus had no intention to do anything but pout for the remainder of the time Thanatos was home… unless Thanatos acquiesced. They were both incredibly stubborn, even for young Gods, but Thanatos lacked most of his usual patience when it came to Zagreus.
Thanatos clicked his teeth and took the plate with a sharp motion.
“Fine, I’ll eat them,” He hissed through gritted teeth. Zagreus’ frown disappeared and his bright, endearing smile immediately replaced it. He looked up at Thanatos expectantly. Thanatos sighed melodramatically once more. He took a small scoop of the arils into his hand and brought them to his mouth. The flesh was coated in the juice of the pomegranate, so tart that it made the back of Thanatos’ mouth jaw sting. He cringed on reflex before scolding his expression and chewing through them as quickly as possible. The soundless ‘pop’ of his teeth sinking into them was almost satisfying, and the juice made the arils seem sweeter than Thanatos found them before. His eyes widened an unnoticeable fraction.
Thanatos swallowed. With one bite, he felt strangely sated. Thanatos was more focused on how quiet everything seemed now. A prickling warmth settled under his skin.
“Thank you…Zagreus,” Thanatos murmured, still somewhat incredulous. Thanatos thought before that Zagreus’ smile couldn’t get wider— but Zagreus proved him wrong easily.
That trend never ended. Zagreus had defied death time and time again, his confinement to the Underworld resulting from the conditions of his birth, and the chaos of his Olympian family’s dramatics. Zagreus brought his family together, despite the mounting odds stacked against him. Despite what it once seemed like the Fates had in store for him, Zagreus ventured onward and did his own thing.
His warpath through the Underworld never ended, but something new began.
Thanatos and Zagreus were intertwined in a way that Thanatos never could have expected. They had drifted apart in recent years, made worse by Zagreus’ unending urge to, in Thanatos’ own words, abandon the relatively peaceful life they lived— at least for gods. Before, in Zagreus’ mind, Thanatos could never comprehend wanting a break from the monotony, the desire to find purpose beyond what one was “made for.” But Thanatos understood quite well. The way he had helped Zagreus in escaping the Underworld countless times let Zagreus know that he’d understood all along.
One thing stayed the same, though; Thanatos was never home.
There was a sluggishness to his gait that wasn’t usually there, a misery dragging his very soul down. He felt it himself, even with the ruthless precision he used to tear down his enemies. Every drag of the Stygian sword from the place it rested between uses was heavier than it should have been.
Until he heard the gong. Zagreus’s head shot up and around as he looked for him.
“Zagreus,” Thanatos addressed him from the corner of the room with the hint of a smile playing on the corners of his lips. Zagreus almost got lost in that small, peaceful sight before the shades showed themselves. There were many more mobs than usual in this grove, settled in the middle of Elysium. Zagreus was a bit run down on this run. Not physically— he was still a force of nature as he annihilated each of the shades attacking them before Thanatos could even parse their sudden appearances. It was quicker than Thanatos had ever seen him before, despite the sheer number of shades attacking him. Thanatos was honestly impressed, though he had seen much greater shows of strength from Zagreus before.
When the last of them were finished, Zagreus’ entire demeanor changed. He looked at Thanatos like the God of Death was all that he was waiting for. Zagreus sprinted over to him with a grace that was earned with his experience— a single mad dash in Thanatos’ direction before intentionally colliding with him and then pulling away. He seemed careless towards the offering sitting between them. His attentive eyes were fixated on nothing but the lingering pride in Thanatos’ smile.
“I missed you.” Words spoken frequently, this time with more quiet ache than Zagreus seemed capable of before. Thanatos returned the embrace with an affectionate chuff. He no longer needed to resist the recoil such a warm body clashing against his once caused.
“I missed you too, Zag.” Zagreus squeezed him tighter, for a few moments longer, before he let go of Thanatos and took a few steps back. He looked regretful, as if he wished the hug could have lasted at least an eternity longer. Thanatos vaguely gestured towards the centaur heart with his scythe.
“Take it,” Thanatos insisted, “it’s yours.”
With a meekness Thanatos had hardly ever been privy to seeing from the other, Zagreus took the centaur heart from Thanatos’ hands. Thanatos had to clench his jaw to maintain the stony expression on his face when Zagreus’ fingers brushed slowly against his before Zagreus took the heart and promptly bit down.
It was gone in a mere three bites, but it left crimson droplets on Zagreus’ hands that dripped down his forearm and stained the corner of his mouth. Zagreus perked up somewhat, though he hardly seemed war-torn before he’d received it. Thanatos again had to repress the urge to scoff, though this time it was with nothing but mirth.
“Your mouth,” Thanatos pointed out with a smirk.
“Hmm?” Zagreus hummed obliviously around a mouthful as he licked some of the blood from his fingers. Thanatos rolled his eyes, but grabbed Zagreus by the chin to keep his head straight. Thanatos had half a mind to simply wipe the blood away with his finger, but he did not want blood sullying his hands. Perhaps uncharacteristically impulsively, Thanatos leaned forward to lick the blood away from Zagreus’ mouth before Zagreus knew entirely what it was Thanatos was doing. Zagreus startled, stood up a bit straighter to angle himself against Thanatos’ lips better, pressing their bodies closer together.
Oh. Zagreus thought Thanatos was just kissing him. Warm hands were holding Thanatos in place in turn, one placed firmly on his waist and the other cradling Thanatos’ cheek.
Thanatos couldn’t entirely hold back the chuckle building in his throat. His tongue darted out of his mouth to clean the blood before Zagreus could unintentionally smear it between the two of them or let the droplet fall onto either of their clothes. Thanatos would’ve been the only one to mind it. Thanatos watched the shiver run through Zagreus’ body as his lips parted in a shuddery gasp.
Thanatos pulled away, swiping his thumb against a spot of blood that was no longer there. Thanatos’ gaze lifted from Zagreus’ lips to meet his eyes. He found Zagreus staring right back at him.
“You had blood,” Thanatos said plainly, “at the corner of your mouth.” The taste of it still lingered on Thanatos' tongue. Zagreus slowly nodded in understanding, starstruck in a way he shouldn’t have been at that point in their relationship. Thanatos found himself laughing at the sight, which only made the look in Zagreus’ eyes more intense.
“See you at home?” Zagreus questioned hopefully. Thanatos exasperatedly fought the smile spreading across his face. Before Zagreus could blink, there were then soft lips pressed against his.
“See you at home.” The familiar flash of promise, the resonating tones of Thanatos’ voice, struck the field for only a moment, before Thanatos was gone. Zagreus was on the run again. But Thanatos had left him with two things, a promise and a warmth in his chest that wouldn’t leave.