Work Text:
Apollo walked along a clear river, trying to drown out his thoughts, even if just for a little while. It had been, what? Centuries since his lover had died.
His gardens were filled with plants that remember him.
Cypresses that lived to mourn.
Laurels that fled from he who chased it.
Sunflowers bound to track the sun.
But that one particular piece of flora burned into his memories forever, he remembered the incident like it was yesterday.
Hyacinths, flowers born from his grief.
That horrified realization frozen in the prince's face as Hyacinthus' life faded away before he could react. How he caught the lifeless body before it hit the ground, how he desperately tried to knit back his bones and stitch his skin together. But even the god of healing couldn't undo the work of Atropos' merciless shears. Couldn't save one that he, himself had hurt.
The Spartan prince he loved like no other, whose corpse now lay in his arms, his hollow eyes held a terrifying shock. He had begged Hermes to let him guide the souls to the underworld, just for the sake of seeing him one last time.
He had turned the pooling crimson liquid into a flower, blooming under his skin. The only way he could keep Hyacinthus alive.
A familiar voice called out to him. Most would leave everything they had to cater to such a beautiful deity, yet Apollo felt nothing but irritation. He had no interest in responding to the goddess, but she had blocked his path before he could continue walking.u
"What do you want, Aphrodite?"
"I am the goddess of love, darling. Your horrible heartbreak had called out to me unlike anything else." The woman, revealed to be none other than the goddess of love herself, spoke.
"What did I do to deserve such cruel fate? You did not need to rub it in my face, knowing part of me died with him."
"Such a shame, your love was as pure as snow. The grief ate you alive, Apollo, but wallowing in self-pity would not bring him back, it has been hundreds of years. And wishing to die with hi-" her words died down as she noticed the glint in the god's eyes.
"Do you know how it feels to be torn apart from the love of your life, to be separated for eternity? Knowing Ares is just as immortal as we are, no, you don't. That is the life I live, the reality I need to face. I would have traded my immortality if that means death could reunite me with him. To be in that weak, ghostly form, i would not care, as long as we are together once more. His absence created a void no other could fill."
He didn't bother with her answers. A flash blinded her momentarily, and when the goddess' vision returned, he was gone. Aphrodite, offended by his sudden disappearance and his audacity to leave her, turned on her heel to head towards olympus, her long braid swinging behind her.
He sat alone near a mountains peak. He used to meet Hyacinthus here whenever they were rid of duties. That dull ache in his chest refused to leave his poor soul alone. Tears welled up in his eyes, though he refused to let them fall.
He felt a tap on his shoulder, looking behind him to find Hermes floating lazily. The god's sandals fluttered lightly in the wind, he looked as if he couldn't care for anything else upon the face of this earth.
"How did you find me?"
The messenger god pointed at the scorching sun. The god could make out a blurry silhoutte of a chariot. Helios, he should've known.
"You know, brother, maybe love isn't your domain in any way. It's time to let go, it has been been centuries since his departure, afterall."
"How did it feel like delivering souls down to the underworld? Surely, that doesn't exclude your passed loved ones." Apollo asked suddenly. The question caught Hermes off guard.
"What?"
"You know, being the messenger and all that."
Hermes let his feet touch the ground, the smile seen before now nowhere to be found. Something that was near sadness and regret took it's place instead.
"Being a psychopomp has it's rise and fall. On one side, you see souls of the dead finding their way back to Hades, their final place. Those reuniting with some taken too early. Though you have to deliver your loved ones, too. Seeing them for the last time, passing the gates of the underworld." He laid on the grass beside his brother.
"It's been long enough for your grief, Apollo. Life exists outside of romantic affairs. You are a god, while he, human. It's time to let go."
But he couldn't ever let go. This wasn't for momentary comfort, he would give up anything for Hyacinthus to come back. Unlike Daphne or Cyrene, he had never met anyone like him.
That night, he searched for his sister. The moon cast a dim glow as he went from one place to another.
He found Artemis sitting cross-legged by a waterfall, along with her huntresses. He noticed her surroundings were covered in hyacinths, the purple flowers seemed to taunt his misery.
The goddess didn't pay any mind to him, her focus directed at sharpening her arrows.
"What's wrong with you tonight? You seem more upset than usual, did Hermes steal your cattle again?"
She didn't listen to his explanation, only focused on wiping the cool metal with a dark blue cloth. Until she heard his quiet sobs.
"Why did he have to leave me? How does the ?Moirai expect me to live when I belonged solely to him and him to me? Nobody could have ever replaced his position in my heart." She signalled towards her huntresses to leave them alone.
"It may have been hundreds of years, but I can't forgive myself, Artemis. Not when the cause of his death is my doing." He cried into her shoulder.
"He is mortal, Apollo. They die. Unlike them, you're a god, alive until the end of time. It's how the laws of order works. You can't bypass that." His sister attempted to console him. Still, his tears stained her chiton.
"You know, sometimes I envy you. You don't have to play a part in Eros' cruel games, can't care any less about love. Your vow granted you eternal freedom beyond my chains of desire." He wiped away his tears with the back of his right hand. Artemis dropped her golden arrow to pull her brother into a hug.
"He will be fine brother. I am sure Persephone will guarantee that."
He closed his eyes as Hypnos lulled him to sleep, breathing in the scent that used to belong to his lover. Hyacinthus felt so close to him, yet so painfully distant. Maybe one day, Hades could take pity on his soul and return Hyacinthus from the land of the dead. Or maybe, Atropos would make a mistake and accidentally cut the string meant to stay intact forever.
Even as the god of truth, he could never accept reality.
Even as the god of prophecy, he never knew what horrific tragedy will befall his lover.
Even as the god of healing, he couldn't bring back the one he held dearest.
He might be the god of plagues, though he can never be able to stop a plague of heartbreak.