This Persephone, Macaria, Aganippe, Eirene, Panaceia, Eupraxia, Hypnos, Thanatos, and Nyx are MINE. Anyone who uses them without my permission gets thrown in the Phlegethon River.
Everything/everyone else belongs to Disney. Use 'em at your own risk.
Little Miss Flames and Flowers
Chapter XX: Macaria Tries Kindergarten Again, Comes Back to The Underworld, and Re-Meets The Nightmare Pair
Time, for the first spring/summer since she had married Hades, flew by incredibly quickly. Persephone had realized that with Macaria here, it almost was like a vacation. One month after the first day, Persephone remembered the discussion of kindergarten back in the Underworld. She remembered Maci's Underworld-in-kindergarten disaster, and remembered thinking to herself if maybe— maybe— Maci might get along better on Olympus, or Earth.
Persephone looked at Macaria, who was on the floor, lying on her stomach, a handful of small straw dolls in her hand. Macaria frowned, not noticing her mother's eyes, and then swiftly set the little dolls on fire. She turned around, blinked to find Persephone watching her, then said indignantly, "Mom. I'm bored."
"Well, that's good," Persephone smiled brightly, "Remember back in the Underworld… kindergarten?"
Macaria's bored expression twisted into a frown, her eyes dark. "I didn't like it," she said flatly. Persephone kept a smile on.
"Well… that was just Underworld kindergarten." Macaria looked doubtful and Persephone continued, "We're going to take you to a different one. It'll be fun."
"Are they gonna put me on that stool again?"
Olympians, worshipping the Princess of the Underworld? It'll be the day Hades freezes over, snorted a voice in her head. Persephone's external smile became reassuring. "I promise, they won't."
"Because they all did last time." Macaria was scowling.
"No… no, I promise, they won't," Persephone held out her hand, "Want to try it?"
Macaria slowly took her hand. "I… guess," she said hesitantly, but she still looked doubtful.
Later, after letting Macaria run loose in the garden ("Don't pull anything, don't burn anything, don't pick anything," Persephone had instructed, and Maci had obediently nodded and scampered off.), Persephone approached her mother, hands folded over her chest.
"Hey, mom?" she asked. Demeter turned away from the sunflower she had been growing; the green glow around her hands faded. When her mother's attention was fixed on her, Persephone continued, "Is there a kindergarten on Olympus?"
Demeter's expression turned suspicious. "Why?"
"I just want to know," said Persephone.
Demeter avoided the question, instead giving her a sharp, disbelieving glance. "You're going to put Macaria there, aren't you?"
"I guess," said Persephone, shrugging one shoulder and internally bracing herself for Demeter's reaction.
The older goddess didn't react nearly as harshly as Persephone had assumed she would. However, her reaction was anything but nice. She snorted a laugh, "Good luck with that."
Persephone scowled. "It might work out well," she protested, the scowl downgrading to a frown, "Better than the one in the Underworld, anyway."
Demeter narrowed her eyes. "You sent your child to a kindergarten in the Underworld?"
Persephone rolled her eyes. "Yes, mom… she's lived there her entire life, you know, it's not such a big deal."
"And you thought it would work out well?" cut Demeter, not listening to a word her daughter said.
Persephone resisted a very strong urge to snap something at her mother. As patiently as she could, she replied, "I did, and it didn't. But maybe Olympus will be better."
"Good luck with that," Demeter sneered again. Persephone sighed.
"Look, I just want to know if there's a place I can send her to, okay? Can't you just answer me that without the sarcasm and insults?"
Demeter, one hand on one large hip, rolled her eyes skywards and thought for a moment. Persephone forced patience upon herself and waited for a response, hoping that for once it would be without nastiness.
"I'd assume so," Demeter said finally, slowly, "After all, where else would godlings go for education? Mortal school?" She laughed, not cruelly- Demeter was fond of mortals. "As if. No, I suppose there'd be something running on Olympus."
"Thank you," said Persephone, relieved.
Demeter arched one eyebrow at her and turned back to the sunflower in front of her. "You're honestly thinking that this will be a good idea?" she questioned without turning. Persephone shrugged, realized she couldn't see her, and said out loud, "I don't know. But it's worth a shot, right?"
"Hardly," Demeter sniffed, "We already know what the results will be."
"But it's worth a shot," Persephone said flatly, and turned to leave, "Thank you." Then sarcastically, "It's been a pleasure."
"Perhaps," called Demeter, as Persephone backed out of the garden, "if Olympus doesn't suit her, she may in fact be better suited for school on Earth." Demeter was smirking. "Gods typically belong in a higher level than mortals, but I'd think for the Underworld's princess, we could make an exception."
Persephone shot her a dirty look and disappeared in a blast of pink.
The following Monday, Macaria found herself sitting awkwardly amongst a handful of brightly colored, brightly dressed Olympian godlings.
She had thought kindergarten would be fun, back in the Underworld. Then the experience had been a disaster. Watching other kids laugh and talk and play with toys, while she stood up on a pedestal like some kind of statue... she hadn't liked it at all, and she was uneasy about a repeat of last time. What if they stuck her up above them all again? What if they wouldn't let her touch anything? What if they all bowed to her? Macaria didn't want to be worshipped like a princess. She wanted to be treated like a godling.
But this kindergarten was different. The divinity in charge, first of all, was Eirene, the goddess of peace, rather than a shy Hundred-Handed One. Her very appearance nearly shocked Macaria; it was the very opposite of the Underworld, all pastels, soft colors, complete with a shiny white stone dove as a chiton pin. For the first time, it hit Maci exactly how different this place was from her hometown.
She was sure that she was the only one on Olympus who'd ever be caught dead wearing black.
And then the children were just as different, all wearing white or some equally as light color, with soft, rainbow-ed skin tones to match. Macaria's soft rosy color didn't separate her from the group at all, but the dark black chiton she wore made her stick out, a black dot in a sea of white.
Then heads started to turn and frowns started to appear as kindergarten level minds realized that the stranger here, never before seen anywhere on Olympus was not one of them.
Macaria steadily felt more and more uncomfortable, and her mood darkened as the discomfort settled in, side by side with a rising homesickness.
"You did what?" Persephone cried, astonished, then repeated in even more astonishment, "You did what
?"
Macaria tried to look as innocent as possible, violet eyes widening and hands folded behind her back.
"She was making fun of me," the little goddess argued, "And I was in a bad mood, it wasn't my fault."
"Macaria," said Persephone, scowling at her, "Regardless of if she was making fun of you or not, it is never okay to—"
"But she was making fun of me!"
"That doesn't make it okay to light people on fire, Macaria." Persephone groaned and sat down, her face buried in her hands as Macaria pouted at her and changed her tactics.
"I… didn't mean to," said Macaria uneasily. Persephone looked up.
"You didn't mean to? It was an accident that you set Panaceia on fire?" Persephone scowled deeper. "You are lucky she can heal herself."
"Well, I'm not sorry," said Macaria huffily, then declared, "I don't like kindergarten. I told you it'd be bad!"
"So if you don't like it, then you wait until the end of the day and then talk to me about it." Persephone remembered after the words were out that Maci was only 6 years old, and sighed to herself before continuing.
"Look, whatever the situation is, whether you like the situation or not, it is not and is never okay to set people on fire when you're angry."
Macaria kept a frown steady on her pink face. "But daddy said—"
Of course, groaned Persephone internally. Out-loud she said, "I don't care what daddy says. You're not in the Underworld anymore. Olympus has different rules, and you can hurt people here."
Macaria was silent, considering this, a dark look in her eyes. She folded her arms and scowled up at her mother in an expression almost identical to Hades' temper tantrum faces. "I'm still not sorry," she said huffily, and took a cautious step back as Persephone's own scowl deepened, sensing danger.
But the goddess of spring only blew out a sigh and stared skywards, running an exasperated hand through her hair.
"You still have to apologize to her tomorrow," she said, as patiently as she could. Macaria suddenly looked upset.
"I have to go back?" she whined.
"No," said Persephone flatly, "You're not coming back, but we're taking a little visit to make an apology. And you do have to say you're sorry," she quickly continued once she saw the protest forming on Maci's lips, "Even if you're really not, then just say you are, okay?"
"Fine," Macaria said reluctantly.
"And then we'll go find a new kindergarten for you to go to, okay?"
Macaria sighed, slumped against the nearest wall, and looked sulky.
"Fine," she scowled, and Persephone felt relieved to receive cooperation.
"Mother, if you dare say 'I told you so,' I'll plant asphodel in your head," Persephone grumbled, being completely sincere, as she ushered Maci out the door and into the care of a waiting Hermes. Demeter closed her opening mouth and settled for looking smug.
There was another kindergarten class on Olympus, but the instructor (Eupraxia, goddess of good conduct) had very politely made a point to hunt Persephone down and tell her that under no circumstances would Macaria be accepted in her class.
So mortal school it was.
Persephone could sense already that this was going to be a disaster, but she thought to herself how much more accepting mortals were of gods, how less discriminatory between Underworldians and Olympians— at least, she tried to convince herself of it.
And then there was the evident problem of, on the off-chance, they treated her like a proper "Olympian" goddess, would they stick her up above them and bow? Macaria had made her dislike of special treatment quite clear. She just wanted to be one of the kids.
Problems were springing up all over the place in Persephone's head, but anything was worth a shot, really. And who knows? she thought, It could work out perfectly. Maybe.
She had hunted down Hermes and requested his help in depositing the Princess at her new school, and as they left, Persephone sat down uneasily and tried to banish the premonitions of disaster flitting through her head. Maybe, maybe, maybe it'll go okay, Persephone attempted convincing herself, Maybe it will.
It didn't.
"Tell us about yourself, Macaria," said the instructor sweetly, giving the new student a discreet onceover with her eyes. Macaria was standing in the middle of a circle of children, some sucking on fingers, others fidgeting uneasily, still others just looking.
Macaria blinked up at Aganippe, glanced around her, and said casually, "I live in the Underworld." The little faces around her changed to surprise and she continued, "And my grandma hates me so I have to stay here and I don't like it."
"Why does she hate you?" someone said curiously and Macaria shrugged.
"Can I sit? I don't want to talk," said Macaria in a whine and Aganippe gave a little shrug of her own and nodded. Macaria plopped down on the floor.
She was starting to feel a little more relaxed as the day went on, seeing as this had been the only bad part of it so far. "I can deal with this," she said to herself cheerfully and tried to keep in this state of mind for the rest of the day.
Then soon, things got bad.
They had been painting the whole day, and Maci hadn't quite realized it, but Aganippe had been quietly watching her paint her pictures, using only the color black (as a result, Macaria was covered up to her elbows in black paint, but that was beside the point). As Macaria began to paint a flower in that same color, Aganippe felt she had to say something and approached her politely.
"Maci, sweetie, don't you think you should use other colors?" Macaria looked up, narrowed her eyes, and fixed her with a glare.
"You don't like my pictures?"
"No, no, of course I do." Aganippe smiled, "But I think it might look nice if you use something other than black. Here," she picked up a container of emerald green, "Try this, maybe."
Macaria looked at it, then back to her teacher, then back to her flower-in-progress. "I like black," she said slowly.
"And it's a lovely color," she agreed, "But maybe if you—"
"I don't want to use other colors. I like black." Macaria turned back to her flower as if this dismissed the subject.
"Just use another color," Aganippe told her in a slightly pleading tone of voice, "Won't your parents want something nice to hang on their walls? Something colorful." Macaria turned again, and this time her tone was clipped and tight.
"Everything in my home is black. I like black. My mommy likes black. My daddy likes black. And they're gonna like everything I make so go away." Again, Macaria went back to her flower, but Aganippe kept trying. She could only be stubborn for so long, she figured.
"Macaria, please, just try another color," she pleaded and pushed several canisters of multicolored paint towards her. Macaria suddenly stood up from her chair sharply, knocking over a cup of blue as she did.
"I don't want to!" she yelled, exploded, and in the same motion threw black paint all over her teacher.
Kids had backed up against the walls as this happened, and now gaped openmouthed at Macaria. The Princess of the Underworld stood still, extinguished, and sat down, composing herself. "How's that for different colors," she said moodily, and continued to paint with whatever black was left.
As Aganippe quickly went into another room to beseech Persephone, Macaria turned and found every pair of eyes in the classroom focused on her. She glared for a moment before relaxing and turning back to her project with a satisfied smirk.
"Just ten minutes. Five. Two. One. Anything. Please," begged Persephone to her mother. She was coming close to getting on her knees and trying again. Demeter's face remained set in a frown.
"Persephone, if you had any responsibility in you on your own, you'd handle this on your own."
"I can't handle it on my own! I don't know what to do. First Olympus, now this, and I can't control her." Persephone took a deep breath. "Just let me talk to him for a few minutes. I can't be a single parent when my daughter is acting like a sadistic pyromaniac. And I don't need to be struggling with this when my husband is a sadistic pyromaniac."
"I don't want him in my house, Persephone."
"So we'll stand outside. Just for a few minutes, I need his help," Persephone said, trying to be reasonable, "Please. Please."
Demeter stared at her. She thought for a very long time.
"Fine," she finally grumbled, "Only a few minutes. I'm timing you." As she spoke, she turned a small hourglass on the table besides her upside-down and raised an expectant eyebrow. Persephone beamed, feeling triumphant, and quickly stepped outside to call Hades.
"So my daughter is now the terror of the Underworld, Olympus, and Earth," was Hades' response when Persephone had filled him in on everything, "Cool."
Persephone gave him a look, which was hard, because she was snugly wrapped in his arms.
"Hades, it's not 'cool' in any way. In fact, it's bordering on the edge of 'serious.'" She took a breath and closed her eyes. Macaria was back in the house with Demeter, and Persephone wasn't sure she even knew that her father was here, much less that they were discussing her. "She doesn't listen to me… she's even started throwing temper tantrums around the house and I can't stop her." Persephone scowled. "I mean, I could, but I'd get burned."
"I say keep a bucket of water around the house," he said lightly, and Persephone glared again.
"Hades. I said, this is serious!"
Hades rolled his eyes and shot her a small smirk. "I'm being serious. How else are you going to stop her if I'm not there?" Persephone raised an eyebrow and turned to face him better.
"Won't it… hurt or something?"
He shrugged. "Nah… just a little annoyance, and, hey, if it'll get her to cool down and stop trying to burn your house down, then why not give it a shot?" Hades' smirk faded. "Dunno about kindergarten, though… You could keep her in a giant water tank when she goes out in public…" Persephone raised both her eyebrows and Hades' smirk came back. "That time, I was joking."
"Good," said Persephone flatly, and sighed. "Well, look. I do want her to keep going to some kind of school. She doesn't have too many friends here, or even at home, and social experiences would be very good for her. But if she's going to keep flipping out on people, then what can we do? Her only real burn victim was Panaceia and she's the goddess of cures, she can heal herself, it was okay." Persephone bit her lip. "But the next time? If the next one can't? And she seriously hurts someone? Then what? Then what do we do?"
"I do not know," Hades said. He fell silent and brought a thoughtful hand up to his chin. "Do you know why she's going psycho on everyone?" he wondered out loud. Persephone shook her head no, and then thought about it.
"Maybe she's homesick," Persephone offered after a moment's pause. The idea seemed plausible enough, but Hades simply rolled his eyes.
"Too poetic," he said, shrugging a shoulder, "She probably just dislikes the Olympians like any normal Underworldian."
Persephone smiled at this before responding. "It could be a combination of both, y'know. Regardless, we need to know what to do for the rest of these six months. I'd like to keep her in kindergarten." Hades raised an eyebrow and she went on, "Maybe not this one but one somewhere else."
"You're going to keep trying until someone gets killed?"
Persephone shot him a look. "She's five, Hades… don't think she'll be killing anyone anytime soon."
"Still."
"But yeah, I guess I'll keep trying," Persephone sighed, "I mean, there's got to be that one place where she'll calm down. That one place that she'll tolerate."
"Sounds like a plan," said Hades. Reluctantly they separated themselves from each other and stood face to face. Persephone cast a glance towards the door and was about to call Macaria to come out, when Demeter appeared in the doorframe. She held up the drained hourglass.
"Leave," said Demeter darkly, and Hades stuck his tongue out at her. Persephone sighed and hugged him.
"I'll try to convince her to let you come back," she whispered to him, out of Demeter's earshot, "so maybe next time you can see Maci."
"Sounds like a plan," he repeated with a smirk, "Let me know how the psychosis conundrum works out." As Seph rolled her eyes, Hades vanished in a plume of dark smoke and Demeter let out a sigh of relief.
"You should thank me, I let him stay a few seconds more than planned," huffed Demeter, and stormed back inside.
14 cases of torching, 12 cases of intimidations, 8 cases of bullying, 9 cases of school-toy-vandalizing, 7 cases of school furniture vandalizing, 5 cases of school building vandalizing, 5 cases of temper tantrums, and 3 cases of beating up classmates later, it was time for Persephone to give up on kindergarten and finally take Macaria and herself home to the Underworld.
Demeter had let her converse once more with Hades and though he had originally laughed as she recounted their daughter's destructive capers, they both agreed to maybe shelve kindergarten and try school again when she was older and a little more mature. Start with first or second grade, he had suggested, and let's not make it on Earth, she'll go psycho-Maci again. But the span of each trial had taken up the whole space of six months and now Macaria was trying to pack her suitcase all on her own.
"Mom, it's not closing," whined the godling, putting all of her weight into closing the stuffed-to-the-brim suitcase. But her weight wasn't much, and Persephone appeared at her side to help. Two thick vines crawled from the ground finally and held it shut so Macaria could latch it closed.
"What time are we getting home?" Macaria pressed for the dozen-th time, hopping up on her bed, for the last time in six months, and kicking her legs over the edge. Persephone rose and gave her a look. "Not long," said the goddess, "The time hasn't changed since the last time I told you. Don't you listen?"
"I forgot," she said mildly, and kicked her legs up and down again. "Is Hi-Dah in the bag? We can't forget him."
"Yes, he's in the bag," Persephone said patiently, "and we didn't forget a thing. I've been doing this for years, Maci, don't worry about it."
"You promised you'd show me Menthe when we got home," Macaria went on, jumping to a different subject. She had promised months ago but it was hard to forget; Maci had made Persephone retell the story almost every night.
"She's right in my garden, you've probably passed her dozens of times without realizing it," Persephone smirked as she recalled that fateful day, and sat next to her daughter. "Would you like to see the cage I got stuck in, too?"
"Gods, yes!" exclaimed Maci, wide-eyed and grinning, and Persephone laughed. Her eyes darted to the sundial hanging on the wall, and she suddenly stood from the bed, taking Maci's hand.
"We should get going." Macaria's face broke into a huge smile at Seph's words and she slid off the bed to join her mother.
"How long is it going to take?" she asked. Again.
It didn't take long at all. Very soon after, Macaria had hurriedly scrambled over the edge of Charon's boat, tumbled clumsily into Stygian mud, picked herself up and tackled Hades as best she could. He, having been waiting for the two by the banks, blinked, smirked, and pried her off him by the back of her chiton.
"I missed you," she said happily, dangling a few centimeters in the air by black fabric. Hades put her down and knelt to her level, still smirking. "Missed you, too, kid," he admitted, the highest level of soft he would let himself get to, "How much hell did you give Demeter?" Macaria's smile turned into a fanged smirk of her own.
"She hates me," Macaria reported gleefully and Hades stood up again.
"Yeah, well, she hates everyone. But congratulations." He snickered and high-fived her. Macaria looked very pleased with herself while Persephone stepped out of the boat and shooed Charon away.
"One big happy family again," he muttered under his breath as he rowed away.
Macaria glanced excitedly around her, relished happily in the familiar surroundings, and scurried off in the direction of the palace, most likely to find Pain and Panic. She left her parents alone, and in her absence, the pair hugged, and then kissed.
"I have to say, the months did go by very fast," Persephone said, leaning contentedly against him and walking (somehow at the same time) with him back to the palace. He looked at her with a crooked eyebrow, "For you, maybe."
Persephone remembered suddenly that while she had been up on Olympus with Macaria the whole time, feeling as if the trip was indeed a vacation, Hades had been trapped here without his wife and daughter, alone. She felt very guilty and hugged him tightly, stopping both of them in their tracks. "I'm sorry," she said softly, and let a small smile cross her face, "Would you like to gripe to me about the six months? I have half a year to listen.'
He smiled back and hugged her back. "It'd be much appreciated," Hades said and Persephone felt much, much happier under the Earth.
Macaria's sixth birthday was the cause of much celebration in the Underworld. It was in part a welcome home party and in part a birthday party, but Macaria would have been pleased with either: it was the first 'party' party her parents had given her. She had loved it.
Half the Underworld had been present in the palace (Hades had been very, very uncomfortable with this and had spent the majority of the gathering glowering at people from his throne). Macaria acted quite the attention hog, purposely making sure that she was the center of everything for the party, not once letting any eyes drift to anyone else. The day after her birthday party, after sleeping past noon (she had been up late the night before), Macaria got dressed all on her own and wandered out into the open Underworld.
She went to the banks of the Styx and said hello to Cerberus, her precious puppy; he licked her with three tongues, coating the princess of three layers of saliva, which she laughed and shook off. She went to Tartarus and stood on her toes to try and see over the heavy iron gates, blood-curdling screams coming from within, and then settled for peeping through the small holes at the bottom on her hands and knees. She went to Elysium, passed through the border without any trouble, waved to the shades whom she would rule over once she got older, picked a flower, and left. Her journey ended in the Fields of Asphodel, and she stood in the silvery, ankle length grass for a few moments.
Macaria watched the lines of souls march through her and past her on either side, orderly lines trailing far past her line of view. The field was barren, except for grass and the light grey and pink asphodel flowers, trampled down by the friendlier demons who manned the place. The not-so-wicked-not-so-good were sentenced to an eternity of marching in circles. Most people, her parents had explained, fell into this category, which was why it was so crowded. The fields grew when it needed to, to make room for additional shades that were always pouring in. She had been here many times, because it was so quiet and solitary—unlike Tartarus, where the screams of the damned echoed, and Elysium, where the bubbly chatter of the blessed rang through. Macaria was, at the age of six-and-a-day, quite the social butterfly, but she liked time on her own as well.
But then Macaria looked up and frowned. Spending time on your own was not easy to do when there were other people with you.
Yes, there was other people here; one, in fact, and as she suddenly felt close to flaring (Asphodel was her private spot, how dare someone take it from her!), the person vanished and reappeared right in front of her. Macaria opened her mouth to snap at him and then closed it as he spoke hurriedly.
"Hide me, hide me, he's gonna kill me!" screeched the god and dove behind a very bewildered Macaria. She blinked and turned to confront him again.
"What—" started Macaria, and then repeated, "What?" in astonishment because whoever this god was, he had gone and fallen asleep.
She, wide eyed, closed her mouth and studied him while he was unconscious. The god couldn't be more than 13 years old, she decided, and although the age was young, it was much older than her and she felt slightly intimidated (despite the fact that he was fast asleep). He had blond hair that stopped just above his shoulders, and his skin was pale blue with his chiton a shade darker than his skin tone. Around the neck of his chiton was a stiff, darker collar that stuck up. And everything about him seemed eerily familiar, like she had seen him before, though she was sure she hadn't.
Macaria considered waking him up. She didn't know if he was one of the nicer gods in the Underworld (she knew there were some, but she had yet to meet any of them besides her mother), or if he was the kind who'd smite her on the spot despite her royal status. It was best to let sleeping gods lie, she decided, and started to back away. Whatever he was hiding from, anyway, surely couldn't be gaining on him, because they were alone in the Asphodel Fields—
She then noticed that this mysterious deity wasn't the only mysterious deity in the field.
Macaria blinked as she observed the conscious god who was, in fact, steadily gaining on the one sleeping behind her. Even from the distance she was from him, she could tell that he couldn't be more than 13 years old, he had black hair that stopped just above his shoulders (and looked as if it hadn't been brushed in weeks and washed in days), and his skin was bright scarlet with his chiton a shade darker than his skin tone. He had a stiff, darker collar that stuck up, and again Macaria felt the eerie feeling of familiarity even though she was now definitely positive she had never met either of them before. As he stormed closer, Macaria suddenly twisted back to look at the sleeping god behind her, then back to the red one; they had the same exact face, only differently colored.
Twins? she wondered, and then knelt next to the now snoring teenager on the ground. She poked him multiple times and slowly he yawned and sat up.
"Is that what you're hiding from?" she asked and pointed back towards the other god. The one on the ground blinked slowly, leaned to the side to see past her, and all of a sudden was wide-awake.
"Why, what'd he d—" she started but he had leapt up and was backing nervously away from the other deity. Macaria realized she was caught in the middle of them and, rather than running, she stood curiously in place to see what would happen.
"Hypnos, that's funny how you think a field of transparent people is a good hiding place," snarled the red god and Hypnos, apparently the blue god, seemed to shrink lower into his chiton.
"I didn't mean to, it was an accident, I told you already!" cried Hypnos backing up a little farther as the red god advanced. The space between Macaria and the other stranger was getting smaller and she instinctively took a step back. "And—and you have more at home!"
"That does not give you grounds to break my things!" screamed back the other god while Hypnos screamed at the same time, "It was an accident!"
"What was an accident?" asked Maci curiously but neither paid her question any attention; or maybe they simply hadn't heard her.
"I'll—I'll pay you back, Thanatos," pleaded Hypnos, and Macaria looked back at Thanatos, both names ringing very slight bells in the back of her head, "And you have more, I don't know why—"
"That one happened to be my favorite one, and you broke it," Thanatos said icily, stopping right in front of Macaria with a scowl set firmly on his face, "You owe me one new scythe and I'm making mom make you give me one."
"What's a scythe?" piped up Macaria and again neither heard her.
"I told you, I didn't mean to!"
"Yeah, right," Thanatos snapped and moved forwards to meet Hypnos. But Macaria was standing in his way, and as she saw the furious expression he was wearing, she decided to intervene a little. He moved to get past her and she moved the same direction; he went the other way and she did the same thing. Thanatos stopped and fixed her with a very pointed, exasperated look.
"Move," he said flatly. Macaria opened her mouth to retort that he couldn't speak to the Princess of the Underworld that way, and froze instead. His irises were bright, bright red, and almost seemed to glow right out of his head. She instinctively flinched away from the laser-like glare and he brushed right past her.
Macaria turned a little to see if Hypnos's eyes were as intense as his brother's were, but only saw a rather mild light blue. Then she noticed that the two were clawing violently at each other.
Macaria stared with her mouth open at the display of violence, and pondered what to do. Without really thinking about it, she ran in between them and flared up with all her strength. The effect, and the heat, worked well, and the brothers jumped apart as if burned. This was probably very accurate.
"What the—" Thanatos started as Hypnos exclaimed happily, "Thank you!" The pair, having shifted to stand side by side, looked even more alike when next to each other. Macaria noticed that, at the side of each's collars, there was a chiton pin; Thanatos was adorned with a little skull much like her parents carried, and Hypnos had a simple circle, a sleeping face painted carefully on the surface.
"So who are you?" they both said at the same time. Hypnos's voice sounded curious, while Thanatos just sounded very mildly interested (and neither reacted to having spoken simultaneously). Macaria stared at them, confused. How could they not know who she was? The whole Underworld knew her. She was famous, and she knew it. Had these people been living under a rock their whole lives?
"I," said Macaria, puffing up her little chest and trying to look as important as she knew she was, "am the Princess of the Underworld."
It was as if these words were magic. Hypnos, who looked like he was passing out again, snapped wide awake and Thanatos' eyes widened (Macaria noticed that the glowing red had subsided, and wondered in the back of her head if she had imagined it) and looked relatively nervous. She smirked and beamed at her status, wishing she had thought to bring her crown along on her wandering.
"Oh, gods," said Thanatos.
"Well, thanks for helping me," said Hypnos brightly, recovering from the slight shock of meeting and talking to The Princess herself, "my brother acts insane sometimes." He shot said brother a dirty look and continued brightly, "I'm Hypnos, by the way. God of sleep, member of the Nyx clan."
"Thanatos," Thanatos introduced himself in turn, studying Macaria, "God of gentle death and, unfortunately, another 'member of the Nyx clan.'" He glared at Hypnos, "Which, by the way, is a stupid name."
"I like it," Hypnos huffed, "And everyone else likes it, so shut up."
"The Nyx clan?" repeated Macaria, out of the loop. They both cocked their heads in the same direction.
"You know. The swarm of children that all come from the same parents," explained Thanatos and sat on the grass cross-legged. Something twisted into his hands out of dark light and when the light cleared, he was twirling something back and forth. It was long, black handled, and had a shiny, curved blade at one end. Macaria blinked and sat down in front of him, studying the weapon in his hands. She wasn't sure, but there was a dot of something on the very tip of the blade that could have been dried blood. The rest of it shone like it had been polished this morning.
Hypnos sat down next to his brother and indignantly pointed out, "See, you have more. You don't have to jump down my throat because I broke one."
"It was my favorite, Hypnos," Thanatos snapped back and Hypnos rolled his eyes, leaned back on his hands, then passed out.
Macaria sat up, alarmed. Thanatos didn't flinch, only looked calmly at his sleeping brother and then back to Macaria.
"He does that. A lot," sighed Thanatos, "He's the god of sleep, you know."
"So he sleeps a lot?"
"He passes out a lot, rather. He can't control his power and it… overwhelms him sometimes." He glanced at Hypnos again, and then added scornfully, "It's almost sad."
"Oh." Macaria hugged her knees to her chest, studying Thanatos now that he was closer up to her. He had looked the same as when she had observed him from a distance. His face was the same as Hypnos'… Macaria simply noticed more, like that his nose curled up at the end, and that his chin was squared and angular, and his hair looked even worse up close then it did from afar…
"So what do you do?" he asked her, fingers steepled under his chin. Macaria snapped back to attention and tilted her head.
"What do you mean, what do I do? I'm a princess."
"You're the goddess of princesses?" He had set the weapon in his hands in his lap and it lay balanced on his knees.
"Oh. No," said Macaria, "Elysium."
"You're the goddess of Elysium."
"I will be," she said proudly, "when I got older. My mom and dad said. And then I get my own bubble of Underworld to play in."
"I see," said Thanatos. He picked his scythe up again and twirled it in his hands. "Better than my job, I'm sure."
She frowned. "Death? But that's so cool."
"No." He looked suddenly disgusted and stood up, still twirling his scythe expertly. "It's terribly boring. You've got way too many limits in the realm of gentle death." Macaria popped to her feet, shooting a quick glance at the still sleeping Hypnos.
"Well, it still sounds cool," she declared and put her hands on her hips. "How do you do it?"
"What?"
"How do you do the death thing? Do you just walk around, up there?" She pointed to the ceiling. "And kill people."
"Pretty much." Thanatos shrugged. "Except I fly."
"You… fly? With what?"
He didn't move, but the scarlet aura around him glowed brighter for a second. Columns melted out of his back, and the columns melted into a pair of dark, black, feathered wings.
"These," said Thanatos.
"Wow." Macaria eyes were wide-open. She looked down at Hypnos and blinked, "Can he do that, too?"
"Yeah," said Thanatos, and sat back down.
"…should we wake him up?"
He rolled his eyes. "If you want, I guess." Macaria nodded and he poked him with the handle of his scythe. When no response was given, he poked him again, harder, and then all-out jabbed him in the ribs. Hypnos squealed and popped up.
"Mm. Did I miss anything?" Hypnos yawned and blinked his half-closed eyes at Macaria. "Macaria, right?"
"Maci," said Maci.
"Oh, see, now you have a name that's good for nicknames," Hypnos said. He was, apparently, the cheerful type, who liked to babble about anything in particular. This was good. Macaria was the same way. "You can't get a thing out of 'Hypnos.' Except maybe 'Hyp' or 'Nosie' but those are stupid names. You can get 'Thanny' out of Thanatos, I guess, but he hates when people call him that…"
"I hate when you call me that, Hypnos," Thanatos rolled his eyes, "Because you're the only person who calls me that."
"Maci's a good nickname, though," Hypnos continued, ignoring Thanatos, and yawned.
"Thanks," Maci said, smiling her fanged smile. Thanatos raised an eyebrow at it, but she didn't notice. "What do you do? You're Sleep, right?" She frowned. "Isn't there already a Sleep?"
Hypnos frowned and shrugged a shoulder. "Morpheus is Sleep on that side—" he pointed to the ceiling, "—and I'm Sleep down here. I mean… I will be. Not yet."
"He's supposed to be," Thanatos further explained, "Except he's really stupid and can't control his powers, so—"
"Hey!"
"It's true." Thanatos turned back to Maci. "He needs to wait 'til he's older to fill his purpose in life. As for now, his existence is pointless."
Hypnos looked slightly hurt. "I'm telling mom," he mumbled, and slumped.
"Oh. Then do you have wings, too?"
The mention of these made him brighten considerably. "Of course I do," he said and glowed blue; the same process repeated with Hypnos, and wings that were feathered white appeared on his back.
"Cool." Macaria was smiling. "I wish I had wings. I don't. I can only burn things." She added, looking proud, "And I can control my powers."
"Lookit that, you got bested by a six year old," Thanatos muttered under his breath to Hypnos. Hypnos scowled at him.
Macaria, oblivious to the conversation, continued, "See, look." Her arms flared up to her elbows then the flames crawled past them up to her shoulders. Her whole body was suddenly engulfed in flame, eyes yellow, skin orange, and Hypnos and Thanatos drew back a little from the fire.
"Impressive," Thanatos commented, and Hypnos looked fascinated.
"Does it hurt, doing that?" he asked. Macaria extinguished and shook her head, ponytail bouncing. "I was born with it. My daddy gave it to me."
"Very impressive," Thanatos said again.
"Yes." Macaria beamed, stood up, rocked on her heels, and asked with a genuine curiousity, "Are we friends now?"
The twins frowned and looked confused.
"If you want to be," shrugged Hypnos. Macaria looked expectantly at Thanatos, who blinked and looked to Hypnos for help. Hypnos looked from Macaria to Thanatos and smirked at his brother, who scowled back, put on a calmer face for Maci, and replied casually, "I… guess so."
"Best friends?" she pressed, rocking back and forth. Thanatos looked to Hypnos again, whose smirk widened. Finding no help, he bit back a sigh and smiled. "Sure," said Thanatos, "If you want to be." When the goddesses' eyes closed and she beamed triumphantly, Thanatos shot Hypnos a dirty, dirty look, and mouthed a dirtier word. Hypnos kept the smug smirk on his face, knowing that they were thinking the same thing.
"Cool," said Macaria, "Do you want to come home with me?" The smirk/scowl faded from both of their faces and they exchanged glances.
"Home," repeated Thanatos.
"Home, like, your home?" echoed Hypnos.
"The palace?" Thanatos asked in turn.
"Your palace," Hypnos added.
Macaria blinked. "What other palace? That's the only place I live."
A moment of sheer panic passed between the two.
"Um, would we have to… meet your parents?" ventured Hypnos uneasily and Thanatos chewed just as uneasily on his fingernail. Macaria didn't catch onto the unease and nodded with a shrug.
"They're nice," she said mildly and started to walk forwards.
"Hades, nice?" hissed Thanatos sarcastically to Hypnos, "Is she talking about the same Hades?"
"Yes," Macaria turned, overhearing the conversation. "He's nice. And my mommy's nice. Except her mommy's not. Are you going to come?"
The twins still looked very nervous.
"Please?" Macaria pouted at them. "You said we were friends."
"We just met you," protested Thanatos.
"But you said we were friends." She suddenly looked upset. "We are friends, right? Right?"
Hypnos, chewing on his own fingernail, shrugged at Thanatos. Thanatos winced and stood up.
"…Fine," said the teenage god of death in defeat. Hypnos stood up at his side, wings fluttering nervously.
"They're nice, I promise," she said again, and resumed walking. The now older Nightmare Pair followed her obediently, hushed conversation passing between the two.
"I can't believe we're doing this," Hypnos whimpered, "Hades and Persephone? Hades and Persephone? What if we're not allowed to talk to their daughter? What if they hurt us? What if they hurt me?"
"Can't believe we agreed to this," muttered Thanatos in reply, biting his lower lip, "They're gonna flip out, you know they don't like the 'Nyx clan,' or whatever you call it."
"Yes, I'm well, well aware," Hypnos hissed back, "Oh, gods, what are we gonna do?"
"Ditch her," suggested Thanatos and started to turn around, but Hypnos grabbed him by the sleeve.
"We can't do that. She's little. And she's so cute," Hypnos rolled his eyes, "You can be mean to whoever you want, Thanatos. Little children is where you should draw the line."
"I don't want to do this, Hypnos, we're gonna get zapped," protested Thanatos. Hypnos shrugged and dragged him along, beginning to cheer up.
"Lighten up, Thanatos… maybe it won't be that bad. And if it is… I mean, things could be worse." He inclined his head towards his brother and smirked, "You could have a six year old crushing on you. Oh, wait, that's right!"
Thanatos scowled and hit him. "Shut up," he growled, "There's no way you could possibly know that for sure."
"No. But I can come pretty close," Hypnos was smirking solidly, "C'mon, Thanatos, think of the positives. If you marry the Princess, you'll be a Prince."
"Shut up," Thanatos whined, and as Hypnos snickered, he stormed ahead of him to catch up with Macaria.
~Author's Notes~ I got a flashdrive and I've been typing chapters every day during my lunch period at school. Expect updates more regularly. :)
Yes, Hypnos and Thanatos are both very important to the story. That's all the hint I'm giving. The rest, you'll have to wait and see. ;)
If you read it, review it, and until next time, good bye! :D