Three

Hades hated travelling to the world above. He especially hated travelling to Mount Olympus. He awoke that morning with no intention of leaving his home, he stretched his arms either side of him, fingering the soft silk of his bed sheets. His head turned to the empty space on the bed that mockingly stared back and he pulled his knees up to his chest, burying his face in his pillow. His heavy sigh came in an exasperated breath, and he felt it with all his being. His brow furrowed as his hands came to rest on his chest; it ached.

He stayed like that for some time. There were many knocks on his chamber door, but they were met with silence. The god stayed curled in on himself, clutching his chest as if he were afraid it would disappear. He assumed it was nearly midday before he rose, not bothering to change out of his bed robes. He could hear his heart beat in his head, and it was driving him insane. He dragged himself from room to room, before flinging open the doors to the throne room. A gaggle of servants jumped when he entered and scattered into the shadowed corners of the room. Only Charon the boatman stayed, he watched his master with a sad look as Hades heaved himself onto the throne. Hades eyed the smaller man, and with a sigh of resignation beckoned him forward.

"Your majesty," Charon bowed deep, the curly tufts of his unruly black hair almost touching his toes. Hades' mouth quivered into a small smile at this and signalled the man to rise. "May I be bold, sire?"
"You may,"
"I have come to ask a question," Hades raised an eyebrow in curiosity. Charon wet his lips, forming the words before he said them. He edged closer to his master in tentative steps; Hades leaned forward to meet him. "Are you alright?" Charon whispered gently, his eyes meeting Hades' with a concerned familiarity. "You have lost your fire, sire," Hades stared at the man silently. He felt anger rise within him and subside as quickly as it started, he let out a sigh and stood from his throne.

"Walk with me,"
Charon bowed his head and fell into step with his master as he strode quickly out of the hall, the great iron doors screeching shut behind them. They walked through the underground palace, the walls were wet and they stepped with ease over puddles. The constant rumble of running water became like a comforting ambient hum. "Charon," Hades began, pulling his robes against the fleeting breeze. He felt the ache in chest return as he tried to vocalize his thoughts. "You have been here a very long time,"
"I was born here sire, like my father and his father before," Hades sensed a flicker of pride in the man's voice.
"You are a most beloved servant, and I trust you with a many great things. You and your kin have been the family I needed and quite frankly desired, and I am grateful to call you a friend,"
"Sire?" Charon asked, confused.
"Tell me Charon, I have been here for thousands of years- and quite contentedly I might add. I have avoided my family with roaring success and not once have I sought out the company of a wench. I have lived each day, in comfortable solitude and enjoyed it. So why, in this last decade have I felt so alone?" They had stopped walking, Hades had slumped his shoulders with the breathlessness of his words. Charon's eyes furrowed with sadness, he reached out a tender hand to his master.
"It is not I you should ask," he whispered. He turned his head to the right; a dark tunnel leading to a forbidden part of the palace beckoned them forward. Hades took a step forward with a hiss, and turned his head to Charon. "You think it could help me?" Charon only shrugged in response. Hades nodded to the man and beckoned him to follow him into the darkness.

It wasn't long before they reached on opening, Hades hovered his hand over a torch and it caught fire. He handed it to Charon and started forward, the dull sound of rushing water was loud her, pounding. They entered a clearing, full of sparkling stalagmites and stalactites alike. Mindful of his step he approached the sound of the pounding. A waterfall appeared before him, but the water ascended upwards, towards the world above from a large lake that spread across the entire horizon of the cave. Hades shot one last look at Charon before wading into the water. It was freezing against his skin as he stripped himself of his robes, walking naked further still. The water came up to his hips and he shivered before raising his arms. There was old magic here. Older than Olympus itself. Hades, surrounded by the waters of The Gate raised his voice into the darkness. Charon couldn't understand the words, he saw his master reach into the water fall and produce a dagger. Charon didn't question where it had come from, he knew better. He could only see his master's back, and didn't flinch when he saw Hades draw the dagger against his chest.

Hades stayed fixated on the darkness of the cave above, unmoving as the dagger slashed his skin, his lips moving in an ancient tongue. As the first drops of blood hit the water he felt a trembling underfoot. He remained still, unblinking letting the clear water around him turn red, the space around him echoing with words he barely whispered. The trembling intensified and rocks and debris threatened Charon as he moved away from the water, struggling to see his master in the poor light.

Hades let the dagger slip from his hand and as it hit the water, three shoots of water rocketed into the air above him. He watched as the shoots plummeted back into the lake. Hades let the water settle before walking towards the edge of the lake, pulling his robes around his freezing body. Charon opened his mouth to speak but a warning finger from his master stopped him mid breath. He stepped forward with the light but recoiled as he saw what was emerging from the lake. Three women stood walking towards them, wading slowly through the waters of The Gate. A smirk lighting each of their faces as water dripped from their heads down their bodies. It seemed a lifetime before they stood before Hades, hands joined, inviting.

"You have summoned us," they whispered in unison. It wasn't a question. Hades bowed his head and beckoned Charon to do the same.
"My lady Clotho," Hades bent forward and kissed her drenched feet. "My lady Lachesis, my lady Atropos," he said repeating the action. He rose and stood unwavering in front of The Fates.
Lachesis raised an eyebrow, "You always were the chivalrous one, Hades," she observed, her sultry voice oozing with richness. Atropos nodded in quick agreement, "And the most dashing," she added. Clotho hissed at her sisters.
"Foolish girls, let us not waste time with silly words,"
"But surely sister, we have all the time in the world?" Lachesis mocked, "And what better time for silly words than the present," she shot a dark look at Hades, he felt his cheeks warm and turned his attention to Clotho.
"My ladies," he began.
"We know why we are called," they said at once. The words echoed around them, Charon shrank back behind his master.
"Of course," Hades reasoned. "I only thought-"
"We know why we are called," they said again. Hades nodded and reached out his hands to Lachesis, she grasped them greedily and pressed his palms to her face. She closed her eyes and was silent. Her sisters followed suit. Lachesis slowly opened her eyes and lowered his hands.
"Such pain in those eyes," she whispered. Hades averted his gaze, clasping his hands in front of his chest.
In a rare moment of tenderness, The Fates decided; "We will help you,"
"Look into the waters, Hades," Clotho said. "What is it you most want?" he stepped away from the group and towards the water again. He could see his reflection and The Fates at his shoulders. He saw nothing else for a time, then the waters began to ripple and he saw himself still but sat on his throne, adorned in fine clothes. At his side was a woman, a crown of flowers was placed on her head with waves of auburn hair cascading to her waist. Hades looked to this woman and she looked back with a smile. He felt the emptiness in his chest disappear and what replaced it was a swelling, a bursting of joy. For that one woman's smile had filled his being and he felt a smile creep to his own face. He never wanted to see anything but her smile again.
"Who is she?" he whispered.
"Persephone," The Fates answered.
"Charon," Hades said, drawing his eyes away from the image in the water. "Order my chariot, I must see my brother,"