We're nearly at the end folks – I am sorry that this has taken me so long to write. Life's like that, you know? Thank you for continuing this story with me. I hope you enjoy the rest.

Macaria bit her lip and walked on, one step at a time. She had retreated to the Isle of the Blessed and set to work, hoping to bring the pain in her chest under control. She understood now why her father sought refuge in work – repetitive tasks that used only a little brain power were soothing. Doing anything productive wore away at her heartache until she could face others without feeling tears prickling at her eyes. If only the ache in her throat would also go away.

She was ashamed. Wasn't she a goddess in her own right? Couldn't she be mature about all of this?

It's his choice. She repeated endlessly. His decision. I must respect that. I have to.

There was a little nagging voice though that was convinced that if she was more beautiful, more captivating that he wouldn't have sought this remedy to their situation. That Death would have been so in love with her that it wouldn't have mattered.

Madness! She shook the feeling away again, focusing on issuing orders to the Lampades around her. One of them took a torch to guide the souls to the gates with a gentle smile. Macaria tried to smile back but her face couldn't quite relax enough to do it. We hardly know each other. Our love is illogical and forced on us by Fate! No kind of beauty could override that.

She had listened to him and run before he could really explain himself. The whole exchange kept biting at her, shaking her resolutions to feel better and to process. How long did love rejected take to process? How long would she have to go mooning on about something that wasn't going to happen?

Why did she long to see him, even though it hurt to think of him at all?

"Stupid," she muttered.

"Sorry?"

Macaria glanced upwards to find Nyx frowning at her, mistaking her words for an admonishment. Macaria blinked and spluttered.

"Sorry, I was talking to myself!" Embarrassment made her feel sick and cold; clearly Fate had some cruel plan where she was destined to offend every ancient being in the Underworld at some point! She squirmed on the spot, trying not to show her discomfort.

"You seem distracted," Nyx observed. Her tone was hard to decipher.

Macaria couldn't meet her eyes. Nyx was so lovely that Zeus himself was frightened of the power she could wield, and she was so ancient that there was no clear distinction as to whether she was a titan or a goddess or something else from the dawn of Time. As a child, Macaria had been in awe of her dark robe filled with starlight and the shadows that danced in her hair. Her pupils were as silver as the light of Selene, her friend and co-worker in the night they brought about for Zeus's realm. Nyx had a way of moving that made Macaria think of liquid – delicate and swift all at once. She was always beautifully attired, with rows of pearls that glowed like moonbeams, silver and jewels that dripped from her wrists and around her throat in strange designs. But she was so aloof, so detached from the work of others in the Underworld that Macaria had always avoided her. Other deities like Hypnos, Morpheus, Death and Hecate seemed to treat her with deference and had some level of friendship with her. Macaria had never seen her father really interact with the Night.

"I guess I am today," Macaria admitted, settling on the truth. "Hopefully it won't continue."

Nyx stood, cold and impressive. She didn't reply. Macaria cleared her throat.

"I should go, sorry for disturbing you…"

"Whatever it is, take action," Nyx told her as she made to move away. Dusk was falling. "Action is the only means to a solution, whatever the issue."

Macaria watched the other goddess vanish through the doorway into Zeus's realm to bring with her the night. Watching the calm, stately being and hearing her advice made her pause.

What am I doing? Don't I want this to finish?

Well, she knew a way to do that. Thanatos had told her.

Macaria ushered over one of the Lampades and tried to collect her thoughts.

"I need to go for a while," she explained. "I have a personal errand."

"Of course, princess," the servant bowed. "Any orders while you are gone?"

"Just let my father know I will return soon if he asks for me, but I don't want to be interrupted unless it is really urgent."

The Lampades around her nodded understanding and stood aside.

Macaria followed Nyx with quick footsteps. She wanted the journey – she needed to think. Were there consequences of undoing things brought about by the Fates, other than the obvious? Most deeds came with a price, especially for the mortals.

I guess I am giving something up, she considered as she stepped out of the way between realms and entered Zeus's realm. Night had well and truly fallen, the darkness helped her hide her own reservations. I could give up this feeling. I would have to give up… well, this 'relationship', whatever it is.

Just the thought of that made her wince.

Eros often worked across the day and night raining arrows on the mortals. Thanatos (though it still burned to think of him, she forced herself to) had pointed out the sound of his arrows and the impression they left on souls in the mortal realm. There was the sound of flight, a high sweet noise like a bell and when the target was struck, there was a second where the world held its breath. Compared to the feeling of death, love was airy and full of hope.

How it hurt to reach out to hear the shimmer of new love blossoming in the mortals! But she made herself, because it was the only way to find Eros and speak with him.

It took enormous concentration. Macaria stretched out her arms, reaching out with divine senses to attune herself to the sound. Action was invigorating, and she found that focusing on the goal made the pain slightly more manageable.

Macaria listened to the universe and the universe called back. She heard the notch of Eros's arrow, bright and clear. She let it call to her and sunk into the shadows.

When she materialized, Eros was crouched in a bush in front of her, aiming through a hedge at a group of mortals at some distance.

"Eros…"

The winged god swore, shifted his leg in a panic and subsequently fell forward, onto his face. He recovered and drew his bow tighter, whirling around to face whoever had disturbed him. One cheek was bright red where it had struck the ground.

"Death, you can't…" Eros stopped, and his jaw dropped when he realized who he was speaking to. "Ah, little goddess. I'm sorry. I didn't…" He broke off. "Did you call out to me?"

Macaria nodded. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

Eros stood and stored the arrow deftly, watching her. He didn't seem to feel the mark on his face.

"You're Hades's girl, right?" he clarified. "You look like him."

Macaria nodded, realizing they were complete strangers, but she of course knew who he was.

"I'm the goddess of Blessed Death," she muttered. "Macaria."

Eros snorted. His white wings fluttered and then tucked away.

"Were you expecting Thanatos?" she asked, suddenly flushed.

The God of Love half-shrugged. Fireflies drifted in the breeze and shone around them in a haze of yellow light. He waved the insects aside, studying the humans grouped down the slope.

"Um, maybe?" Eros rolled his eyes and looked at her with an annoyed expression on his otherwise perfect features. "I told him there was no guarantee it would work. I said that Zeus or the Fates would be the only beings who could permanently fix things, but he won't listen to me. Now I'm all out of arrows to nullify affection…"

Eros took a moment to check his quiver and flick through the golden arrows that were contained in it, his tongue between his teeth. Macaria felt her heart suddenly race.

"See? He's cleared me out." Eros sighed in annoyance. 'It takes forever to make them too. Mother is going to be pissed."

"It didn't work?" Macaria pressed. "The… arrow that gets rid of his love for someone?"

Eros froze and watched her face, noting the blooming colour in her cheeks and the hope in her eyes.

"By all creation… You're her. The person he loves. Argh…" Eros slumped and slapped his cheeks with both hands, cradling his head as though defeated. "It did work for like, a millisecond apparently. But he's not… ah. Maybe I shouldn't say anything more." The God of Love picked up his bow and slung it next to his quiver. His wings appeared, stretching into the sky. "It's not my place. I don't want him angry with me."

"Umm…" Macaria felt her pulse race, stupid hope was kindling again. Perhaps, if she was patient enough, she could still start over with Thanatos, if the cold disinterest he had shown was only a temporary thing. Would he want that, if his feelings had not gone forever? "That's okay, I understand, I guess."

There was silence in the glen as they stood there in the night. The mortals were celebrating something below, Macaria could see a few them around the fire. She sensed good hearts among them, even one who might be looking at Elysium when he finally passed.

"Sorry," Eros told her. "I'm… Well, Thanatos is not impressed with me right now. I'd help you if I could."

But the night seemed sweeter with just a tiny bit of hope given to her. Macaria waved his apology aside.

"That's okay." She pointed at the mortals. "Were you about to mark one of them?"

"Yeah…" Eros sighed. "But I don't think I will now. It will only cause a lot of problems, I think. The night is romantic enough for some of them, anyway."

Macaria hugged herself watching the people start to eat and drink, clapping each other on the back and laughing over some shared triumph. They did seem at peace with one another.

"Are you here for any of them?" Eros asked. Macaria just shook her head.

"I wanted to talk with you." Macaria tucked her hair behind her ears and smiled at the mortals. "They're not due for Death for a while."

"So, you and Thanatos… Share a job?" Eros enquired awkwardly.

Macaria had to laugh at how uncomfortable the God of Love looked.

"I'm the shortcut to Elysium," she admitted. "I grant instant Blessed judgement for the worthy. Kind of like you," she went on, considering his bright arrows in the dark and wondering whether her light was just as luminous in the shadows. "You're a shortcut to romance?"

Eros barked out laughter. When he did that, he instantly looked like a naughty kid making mischief.

"In a manner of speaking." Eros stared at the goddess with her clear adoration in her eyes. "Do you mind if I ask another personal question?"

"No," Macaria was happy to make a friend of Eros if she could.

"No offence – but how do you, like, care about Death?" Eros huffed an awkward breath. His tone showed honest curiosity. "Don't get me wrong, he's not ever really made me avoid him before. I don't know the guy that well. But he's not exactly the warm, social type and you seem…" Eros tilted his head, evaluating Macaria with a steady appraisal. "Well, you seem like someone who a lot of people would like to know."

Macaria giggled. Was the God of Love saying she was desirable?

"He suits me," she told Eros without thinking too much about her answer. It was sort of embarrassing and sort of exhilarating; there hadn't been a chance to be honest with anyone about her love for Thanatos. "He trained me, and the way he spoke about the mortals… And about me… He's sweet and shy, I can't help but admire him."

Eros was thoroughly confused. "The heart wants what the heart wants," he announced to the night, a grin on his face. He saluted Macaria in the dark. "Best of luck to you, goddess. I hope you get your happy ending."

"I'm sorry this has been…" Macaria didn't know how to say what she meant. The thought that Thanatos would inconvenience Eros so badly to try and escape his feelings for her made her very uncomfortable. But the winged god walked forward and threw an arm around her before she could apologize.

"It gets better," Eros encouraged her. "And my mother is always angry about something. Don't worry."

Macaria hugged him. "I hear mother talk about you all the time. Say hello when you're next near the Underworld?"

Eros winked, released her and she watched him take flight, souring upwards into the sky in a stream of golden light and white feathers. He grew smaller until he was indistinguishable among the stars. Macaria held herself and stood watching until she was no longer sure where he was in the sky.

"Macaria…"

She froze. Out of the shadows cast by the mortal's campfire Thanatos grew, his scythe gleaming in the torchlight. Her heart started beating a chaotic rhythm against her chest. She forced her mouth to form words.

"How long have you been standing there?"