Author's Note: I have most certainly been on a writing spree lately - Hooray! With that said, things are definitely picking up here! Hope you enjoy. :)
Hades hadn't quite voiced his opinion loud enough when it came to the destruction of mortals and was entirely regretting that inaction now. The underworld was flooding with souls that were confused and overwhelmed by the reality of life after death and those that ran the underworld were scrambling to keep them in one place. Charon was forced to accept late payment on the souls and ferry them across in an orderly fashion, something he had loudly complained was difficult for one man. Cerberus' barks were echoing off every corner of the place, causing a nonstop chorus of howls, growls and barking between the three heads. Judgment was causing the crowd to bottleneck and panic arose as the souls were realizing just what was going on. Hades was pulled every which way, unable to attend to any other needs but those of the panicking underworld and the millions of the souls that were descending upon them.
Persephone had been left to her own devices, unable to really help without Hades' direction and his only advice was to rest. She had attempted to argue with him but he had disappeared so quickly and since had been but a uncommon presence. She sighed loudly as she sat at the end of a very long table, poking the barely touched food with dismay. Even the servants that usually cluttered the halls for her praises were off working, busy trying to make up for their shortage of hands. The only goddess not called upon in this strict time of need was Hecate, who rounded the corner of the hallway to come upon Persephone alone at the table.
Hecate was a tall goddess, a few inches taller than Hades with long black hair to the small of her back. Long ago she had formed her hair into dreadlocks that started at her shoulders and they had simply grown wild then, causing her thick hair to clump and stand free in various places. It was mildly chaotic but she enjoyed its natural state of being. She wore a simple black robe as she decorated herself in other fashions, such as body marks (tattoos as the mortals called it), piercings and jewelry. She had several armbands of mortal writing throughout the centuries and black marks that crawled up her arms, down her back and legs. She had several chains around her neck, all with something different attached at the end; one had a tooth of a Minotaur, the other a small vial of a mystery liquid. The chains were all silver, matching the silver belt that cinched the dress to her waist and the silver dagger that hung at her side. Under the dress, above her knee was a small thigh holster that held a ceremonial dagger that was stained with years of blood. She approached the table with a small grin that was mirrored back to her by Persephone, who leaned forward suddenly much more animated.
"You're getting fat," the goddess snickered, causing the queen's nose to scrunch up while she smiled.
"Thanks," she sarcastically replied, placing a hand on her protruding stomach. "How's it going out there?"
Hecate shrugged as she took a seat in one of the chair and lifted her feet up onto the table, pushing the chair onto its back two legs. Beckoning an apple with two fingers, the witch goddess sniffed the air as the air jumped up and flew into her air before looking back to the brunette. She bit into the apple, creating a loud and echoing crunch sound as she did so before considering answering her.
"Busy," she barely replied and grinned when Persephone gave her an annoyed look. Putting her legs off the table and slamming the chair onto the ground, Hecate leaned forward and eyed her stomach as he put her hand out to touch it. "Want to know the sex?"
"No –" Persephone tried to cut her off, unable to push back in time and the goddess' hand landed on her stomach for just a second – but it was long enough. Hecate's purple eyes grew wide as she retracted her hand, her mouth opening slightly.
"Oh great," the pregnant goddess grumbled. "Now I have to know."
"No, no," the witch tried to defer the attention off her shock but biting in the apple again. "Nevermind."
"Tell me!" Persephone started to demand but her mouth opening wide turned into a yawn. She put her hand over her mouth, yawning casually before turning that same hand into a fist and slamming it onto the table. "Hecate! You can't do this to me!"
The witch goddess would have laughed loudly as she normally did in moments like these, but instead she simply grinned wryly and stood up, throwing the apple into the air and catching it again. Persephone, determined to get the information out of her, pushed the chair back and stared to stand, but she felt a rush overwhelm her and she plopped back down very ungracefully. Hecate, frowning suddenly, leaned down to inspect the queen's face.
"You're weak," she commented with a half questioning tone mingled in, trying to pry the information out of her quickly.
"Lately, yes," she moaned as her eyes closed tightly and a hand pressed on her temple. "I thought it was just a symptom of pregnancy, but I don't remember anyone else going through this much…"
"They don't. Not usually," Hecate muttered under her breath as she looked down to her collection of necklaces. Grabbing one of the vials filled with a brown powder, she uncapped it and poured a pinch onto a loaf of bread. "Here, this will ease your pain."
"I'm fine," Persephone protested, putting a hand out to push away the loaf. She would have put up more of a fight if she hadn't felt so exhausted. Unable to fight it, she yawned again, a hand covering her mouth as she attempted to glare at Hecate for judging her at the moment. The black haired goddess' eye twitched as she tried to decipher what Persephone was hiding from her.
"Did you tell Hades?" she asked quietly.
"Tell him what?" the goddess retorted slightly offended as she visibly fought a yawn. "That I'm tired?"
"You failed to tell him last time," Hecate warned lowly as she broke off a piece of the bread and offered it to the queen, who in return drew her nose up at it but took it all the same.
"I am not a weak thing that needs to be cared for," she protested vehemently, shaking the bread at Hecate in an attempt to make a point. "I don't need everyone around me to treat me like I'm some ...some fragile child –"
Hecate put a hand up to stop her there and she obliged, tossing the bread down onto the table. The witch goddess sighed, reaching a hand up to scratch the top of her head between the dreads.
"You're not from the Underworld, Persephone," Hecate began to explain and had to put a hand up to stop the queen from protesting again. "There is a grand difference between those that originate here and those from Olympus. You misinterpret our concern for belittling."
"No," Persephone mumbled under her breath, sighing as she knew this conversation would lead them nowhere. She pushed herself from the table and used the table to pull herself into a standing position, shaking her head. "I know you mean well, but –" Forced to pause for another yawn, she shook her head and waved a hand in air, heading towards the doorway that lead to their rooms. "I need a nap."
Hecate didn't move as she watched the goddess slowly retire to her room. She stood at the table, frowning at the sight and waited for Persephone to disappear before pulling one of the bowls closer to her. She dumped out the fruit and poured in the water, mumbling lines in various mortal and immortal languages. Her other hand wiggles free a vial from her neck and as she set the water down, she began to sprinkle in the powder and use her free finger to spin the water counter clockwise. Mumbling more, she called out several names as her hands flew up and signaled 'stop' to the water – which is did. It stopped spinning and sat still as she hissed and demanded a face. The water shifted but remained black and empty. Frowning, she pushed the bowl away, stood up and headed out of the palace.
Hades had become rather grumpy as the days wore on. He had little time to spend in the palace, no time to see his wife and was pulled every which way for piling up issues. He had brought a bag of gold to Charon to quite his complaints, commissioned a larger boat that would not be done for another two days and stood at the gates to monitor the judgment and the souls for hours on end. His mouth had been placed into a semi-permanent frown due to the stress. Even Tartarus had felt the changes and groaned, threatening the very stability of the Underworld. Now standing at the entrance gates, he had his arms crossed and his eyes glaring into the pile of souls that his family from above was causally sending his way. For the better part of the day, the servants around him had learned to leave him alone; even Cerberus had quieted down his barking when given a nasty look.
The grumpy god was no less turned by the sight of Hecate and Daeira fast approaching - one might even think he was more angered due to the vivid frown that twitched on his lips. The smaller nymph at Hecate's side had never been on Hades' good side, despite her willingness to live in the Underworld for his wife's sake. She had certainly caused herself stress and change by it, her light hair turning dark, her skin paler than ever and her body weight dramatically dipping. But all the sacrifice she had made didn't fix her meddling or her insistent nature in telling him when Persephone was mad at him. He had come to think she enjoyed it. Sighing audibly when they were within earshot, Daeira paused in her step while Hecate did not.
"You're needed at the palace," the witch goddess proclaimed as she neared him and placed her hands on her hips aggressively. Hades raised an eyebrow, knowing Hecate for a bossy and aggressive individual, but hardly in the mood for it.
"Oh?" he started with a bored tone in his voice. "Has the food gone bad?"
"No," Daeira grunted, missing the sarcasm in his voice. She promptly took a step behind Hecate when issued a glare for the response. Hades' eyes moved from the nymph to the ancient goddess, awaiting a more pleasant response.
"It's Persephone," she calmly explained while a hand rose to grab the same vial she had used earlier. Dangling it in front of Hades, his eyes lowered to view the powder. "She's fading again and Hypnos is no where down here. It's something else."
Hades flinched for a minute, staring at Hecate as he tried to decipher the words as quickly as possible. She was so utterly calm about it that he didn't believe her at first, but the powder in that vial was extremely rare. It was a ground harpy bone, which was nearly impossible to find as they rarely died and their bodies disintegrated quickly so to reform in the Underworld. Though Hades was unsure what the bone exactly did, he knew the witch would never use it casually. Nodding speaking nothing in return, he turned around and swept through the gate back towards the palace.
Snapping his fingers as he walked, the ground shook underneath their feet and cracked open, causing the four black horses and golden chariot to rise from underneath. The horses had to climb up, using their hoofs frantically to pull themselves from under the ground and each one fighting the other to get to steady ground first. By the time the chariot was completely out of the ground, the four horses were a few yards from the storming god; sprinting to catch up to him, the ran at his side until coming up to him and then darted to front, allowing him enough space to jump up onto the chariot and take the reins. Within seconds, he was miles from the gate and storming to the palace.
The chariot was too large to fit through the main doorway, though they did climb the grand staircase at his behest. He jumped off and waved the horses off; neighing simultaneously, they all turned and descended the stairs to return to their natural state among the cold stone beneath. The palace itself was remarkably empty, void of all those that normally would ask if he needed assistance or be scurrying around for work. Frowning, now realizing perhaps he had left his wife in a terrible atmosphere, he rushed through the main dining room into the wing of bedrooms. His concern overwhelmed his politeness as he burst through the door to her bedroom and she groaned, turning onto her other side in the bed.
"Go away," she mumbled through the blanket she had pulled up to her face. He mumbled something as he walked through the room, up to her bed and sat down next to her, placing a hand on her hip.
"Come on, let's eat," he softly replied, rubbing the spot on her hip slightly to encourage her to wake up.
"Not hungry," she groaned a bit louder but still waning into sleeping. Hades frowned and reached his hand up to grab her arm and started pulling her towards him. "What are you .."
"Persephone, wake up," he demanded more harshly this time, his worry starting to cause him annoyance. When she rolled onto her back, groaning, she was barely able to open her eyes to look at him. Her lips moved as if to say something but she was slipping into sleep too quickly to form any sensible words. Reaching his hands out to grasp her shoulders, she shook her to wake her up but all he received was another groan. "Persephone!" he yelled at her, his frustration coming out loudly. Everything was flashing back before his eyes and all he could do was imagine another two thousand years without her. He shook her again, "PERSEPHONE!"
Her name echoed loudly throughout the room but her face never flinched. She had fallen into a deep sleep with a peaceful look upon her face, one that ripped at Hades' chest. It was that neutrality in her features that he had endured for centuries, wondering if she would ever smile or glare at him again. He had come to wish even the worst of their relationship back again and would suffer her screaming at him for the next two thousand years over her silence and non-expressive face. He stared at her without saying a word, holding her shoulders still in hopes that holding her tightly would make her stir. All he could think about was how he had told her to wait for him in the palace, alone and she had done so without complaint. She had waited for him and suffered isolation before falling back to the bed. He thought about the regret he would feel for however long this lasted and slowly, over a period of time, his head dropped and his forehead touched the top of her large stomach. As hurtful as losing her had become, he had to deal with the idea that the child was suspended in sleep with her – if so, now he had lost two.
"My lord," a quiet voice came from behind.
"What?" he growled, turning his head to the side to barely catch the sight of Hecate and he growled, swallowing any other comment he might have made had it been anyone but her. "Wake her up!" he demanded suddenly as he turned to her and she seemed to glare at him at first, but immediately softened her eyes.
"You know I can't –"
"I don't care! Do it!" he asserted as he rose to his feet, turning to face her. She raised her head up a bit, staring down at him as she attempted to control her own temper. Shaking her head slightly, she reached a hand out to place it on his shoulder.
"This is beyond my powers –" she tried to explain.
"Then watch her," he snapped, pushing her hand off his shoulder and he stormed out of the room without another word. Hecate frowned, staring at the doorway over her shoulder for a few lingering minutes before turning to the sleeping goddess. As she collapsed onto the bed and sighed, Daeira snuck out from the other side of the bed, her eyes worried and her frown apparent.
"Why didn't you tell him?" she whimpered.
"It's foolish to burden him with my own troubles," Hecate whispered to the nymph as she leaned down to lay next to the queen on the bed.
"He cares about you too, you know," the nymph tried to point out but the witch was quickly falling. The pale nymph circled the bed as she pulled up an unused blanket from the edge of the bed and draped it over the sleeping pair. Sighing, she bowed her head letting her forehead rest on the bed itself and she sniffled quietly in the room.
Hades wasn't quite positive what he was hoping to accomplish, but all he knew was that Hecate was right. This had nothing to do with Hypnos. The circumstances were much different than before and even if the nebïaid could even fathom trying, he would not have been able to without Gaia or Rhea's help this time around. Assuming his rushed hypothesis was correct, he had stormed the deep caverns of the Underworld to the isolated lair of the Moirae. This time was different, he assured himself and thus assumed this time, they could help. As the walls tightened around his broad shoulders, Hades knew he was getting closer. The air was thinning, turning cold and the wind had vanished, leaving now only stale air. On a blatant mission, he had ignored the signs of change, those that would indicate anything was wrong or different for the Moirae. So when he came upon the open grotto, he was struck silent and motionless.
All the treads on the out skirts of the room were cut, ripped, burned or torn apart. They had lost their vivid color that had always been a sharp contrast to the darkness of their dwelling. Instead now they were a sad trail leading to the center of the pile where Atropos was clamoring about the room, muttering to herself and destroying the threads in any manner she could. She would cut a pile while chewing on another. She was frantic to get to those in time, to end the suffering and keep up with the astronomical death toll but it was near impossible to do so. Though many threads would disintegrate of their own accord, she was still desperate to keep up. Lachesis was left helping her find them, pulling threads out and handing them over, but she was much slower than her sister. She had darkening bags under her eyes, a weathered frown upon her face and her body could only move so quickly. Several times as she reached for one, Atropos grabbed it first or it unraveled between her fingers. Their situation was ill, but not near the state of their youngest: Clotho.
She was laying in the arms of their eldest brother, Moros, as she struggled to keep her eyes opened. She was the most pale of the three, her eyes sunken in deeply and her mouth cracked and dry. Her fingertips were moving in the motion of spinning thread, but nothing was actually there. Moros' lips were firmly planted on the top of her head, kissing her as he held her tightly and stared into the pile of thread around them. He looked no worse for wear than the last time Hades had seen him, which was around the time of the Titan war, but his frown told the tale of terrible grief. Behind him was their oldest brother and usual companion of Hades, Thanatos, staring down at the scene with no emotion wrought on his face. Hades grimaced, as if reminded him of how the death god would await a mortal's passing. Hades took a step forward, trying to catch his breath between his own burden and that which he had stormed upon. By the second step in, Moros' bright yellow eyes snapped in his direction and the god froze.
"What's happening to them?" Hades whispered, the walls echoing his words enough for all to hear.
"In mortals, even gods are frail," Moros sighed as he lifted his lips from his sister's head and rubbed the side of her arm. "I tried to warn you."
"What?" Hades blurted out before he could think. The prophecy words had come from the Moirae, but more accurately Atropos. The god's eyes lingered over her for a brief minute but returned to Moros when she was too busy to participate in the conversation. "What is happening to them?"
But Moros simply shook his head and closed his eyes, kissing the top of his sister's head once again. Slowly he began rocking back and forth, clutching his sister close against his chest as she let out a quiet sigh, trying to speak. Her eyes fluttered as she gripped a piece of his shirt and her lips parted, but no words came about. The other sisters were too busy with their work to notice or do much to help and Thanatos, cold and neutral, stood silently. Frowning at the scene and his lack of answers, Hades was left standing alone to stare upon the disturbing group and try to fit the pieces together himself. Turning his eyes to Thanatos, he waited for the god to turn to him before asking.
"Are they dying?"
At first Thanatos didn't move at all. His eyes simply stared at Hades who returned the blank look. Moros was the first to move, turning his head to look at his brother who, in turn, looked down to him. The communication wasn't visibly clear, but Hades could gather the answer was not a good one. Moros shook his head, sighing.
"I always make things worse," he criticized himself as the answer, giving no indication of what his brother should do. The largest nebïaid reached a hand out, placing it on his brother's shoulder but there was little comfort there. Thanatos looked to Hades once again, swallowing before speaking.
"There is no need for mortal fate without mortals," he simply stated, overwhelmingly lacking compassion for his sisters. Hades squinted at him, trying to decipher whether or not the god didn't care or was trying to hide it by doing his job.
"And this is … all of us?" he asked selfishly, finally trying to wean whether this was applicable to his family or not.
Thanatos slowly nodded, his voice low and grave, "Without mortal aspects, the mortal gods are not necessary."
"Mortal gods?" Hades repeated, his mouth frowning and his eyebrows furrowing. "That makes no sense …"
"It will," was all he replied as he kneeled down to Moros and Clotho, causing the Moirae sister to wince in pain. Moros pulled away from his brother, hissing at him in a foreign tongue and the larger god backed off, nodding politely. Hades stared at the pile of threads as his mind was racing trying to think of the implication. He took a step back, his eyes darting senselessly over the area as his face began to show signs of an epiphany; when he finally got it, his eyes snapped to Moros, who was looking directly at him and Hades turned around, running out of the grotto as fast as he could back to the Underworld.