A/N: This was written as part of the Reylo Theme Song Collection on ao3. I chose the prompt song of Evermore from the 2019 Disney live-action film. It is a gorgeous song...go listen to it!

Some help with a few Greek pronunciations (phonetically):

Kore: Corrie

Iasion: E-asion

Aeacus: Ye-ah-kus

Louloudi: means 'flower' in Greek

CW: Death of minor character in this chapter, he does not stay dead though. Mentions of death throughout.

Death was tedious, at least in his opinion. Hades huffed out a breath as he flipped through the Book of Life for his next appointment. Within his book were the names and death dates of every mortal born in the world above, followed by the acts committed during their lives. Some were short and sweet, a life wasted in passivity. Most, though, were several pages long, and these he had to read carefully to discern the manner of the life lived.

Typically, he allowed himself a break to eat and wander the Fields of Asphodel when his days grew extremely busy in the Underworld. But today was his last day before he traveled to his home above, and he just wanted to get it done. He wouldn't say he was complaining, and if anyone were around to accuse him of it, he would quickly reply that, compared to dying, death is rather anticlimactic. As god of the Underworld, it was his job to judge the lives of all mortals, to choose where they deserved to spend their afterlife.

While he waited for Aeacus to bring along the next dearly departed soul, he decided to take advantage of the first moment he'd had to himself all day to relieve his cramped legs. As he stood, his dog, Cerberus, stretched with a trio of groans to join Hades on his meandering. Cerberus was his only true companion in the Underworld from day to day, and Hades loved his dog devotedly. He was a unique dog, having three heads upon his large black body, each one having a slightly different temperament, but all were fiercely loyal to his Master. The throne room was spacious enough to allow them to play fetch, as they now began to. It was a grand ancient hall hewn out of solid gray granite and polished till it shone. Eight pillars marched down the aisle from the entrance to the raised dais where his ebony throne sat. The ceiling had been carved into graceful arches that swooped and touched across a ceiling littered with diamonds patterned to imitate the night sky seen from atop Olympus, the ancestral home of the gods. The pillars were crowned with elaborate finials covered in gold leaf, designed to reflect the glow of the lanterns lining the walls, held aloft by statues from his favorite Greek artists. His favorite part of the room was not the throne, but instead the two massive braziers on either side of the room. Made of white marble, and shot through with gold, they served as the primary source of light in the room and he often sat quietly, lost in thought admiring the glow of the roaring flames within.

The few gods and goddesses who had dared to visit the Underworld had offered unsolicited advice on how to "perk up" the throne room, Apollo had suggested digging a shaft to the Earth's surface to allow his sunlight in. Imbecile. Others called it oppressing, maudlin, and dank. Personally, he saw great beauty in the darkness and the earthly gifts contained underground. It wasn't his fault no one else could appreciate it. Due to his surroundings, Hades had found himself forced into ever-increasing isolation. At first, he had enjoyed the quiet away from the drama of Olympus. But sometimes, a small part of him wished he had someone to talk to.

Aeacus leading another shade through the doorway reminded him of the work at hand. He tossed the ball one last time to Cerberus and settled back down to the business. If it was also with a melancholy sigh, there was no one else to hear it...or care.

The woman moved with uncommon grace, a speck of brightness in the otherwise dreary world Hades, known as Ben here to allow him the freedom to move among the mortals without recognition, had found upon his arrival above ground. From his perch atop a skyscraper, far above street level, he observed a woman wending her way through the busy city sidewalks, dodging politely between the other mortals, gesturing an apology when she bumped into a delivery boy leaving a shop in a hurry. Ben wondered where she was going, and who would be waiting for her when she arrived at her destination this rainy evening. Or would she be arriving at an empty home? He questioned what it was about her that had first caught his attention; maybe it was her outfit, her coral-colored rain jacket stood out from the crowd startlingly. He snorted, an extravagant color in his opinion. There was nothing so cheerful underground. Maybe it was the way she carried herself, upright and...breezy, when the rest of the humans were hunched over to avoid becoming soaked and chilled through by the rain. Yet...neither of those- no, something...there was something else. He just couldn't put his finger on it. She was just… different, from the others.

Ben watched her until she disappeared around the corner and out of sight; then, sighing, he dropped down off of the gargoyle he had been perched upon. His return to the world above had gone smoothly, thankfully, and he had left the Underworld in the competent hands of Aeacus and Charon. He would judge the souls from his home here, and if there were any trouble he could be below in an instant. Being his first night back, he always made it his habit to spend part of the evening people-watching from the roof of his home.

Most of the gods had homes on Earth now, as well as their places on Olympus. It allowed them all a level of anonymity with the humans that they found amusing, and places to get away from each other. Ben snorted, his family was nothing if not dramatic. But here, far above the city streets, it was peaceful. It also afforded him an eagle's eye view of the world below him. The hustle and bustle of the living had intrigued him for millennia. Ben never tired of observing the mortals who would inevitably come under his rule one day. He liked to spend part of the year above ground so that he could better understand the cares of the people he would one day judge. When he, Zeus, and Poseidon had drawn lots for realms, at first, Hades had thought he'd drawn the worst of the kingdoms. What glory was to be found ruling over the dead in a kingdom of unending night? But as the centuries passed, he'd realized that his was the unique domain. Unlike his brother's subjects, the souls that entered the Underworld never left again. Eventually, all mortals would enter his kingdom and fall within his rule, their eternity in his hands. His was the power to condemn a soul to torment in Tartarus, grant peace in the Asphodel Fields, or honor heroes with entrance to Elysium.

Ben walked quickly across the roof of his skyscraper, unconcerned with trivial things like puddles, and waved his hand as he approached the door into his home. The door vanished as he strode through it, disappearing like a mist.

Kore, or Rey as she preferred to be called because no one ever pronounced her name properly (why did her father have to pick an old goddess' name for her?), loved the feeling of rain on her face, the cool droplets kissing her cheeks; she tilted her head back, lifting it to the heavens. Rain was a renewer of life and she'd embrace it, not ducking for cover like everyone around her; unless of course there was thunder. Then she'd disappear into a cocoon of blankets until it passed, naturally. Otherwise, she relished the sound of rain falling and seeing the plants come to life in all their vibrancy. People said, if you sat still and silent enough, you could hear corn grow in Iowa. She didn't know if that was true, but sometimes she'd swear she could feel the life swelling and bursting forth from the earth around her.

Rey sighed contentedly, and tying her rain jacket tighter about her, began twirling her flamingo print umbrella overhead. Tonight was the perfect weather to watch Singin' In The Rain again, maybe she could cajole her father into joining her.

It had been a good day at work, but a long one. She was employed as a gardener on a local estate at the edge of town and had spent her day elbow deep in the dirt. The eccentric old lady who owned the property had given her carte blanche on the grounds once she saw Rey work her "magic", as Maz called it, on the long-neglected rose garden. Ms. Kanata had even paid for a small greenhouse to be built onsite where Rey could cultivate new or exotic flora to her hearts' delight.

Eventually, the walk home at an end, Rey entered the lobby of her apartment building, nodding at Mitaka, the doorman, as she passed by on her way to the elevators. Her father had been a small-town farmer prior to Rey's birth, and he had never yet told her how it came about that he could afford to purchase the penthouse of a ritzy complex in downtown Corellia solely on the sale of his smallholding. Not that she was complaining. She had been given the best of everything growing up; an education at a private school, a year abroad studying the gardens of Europe with a private tutor before college, and most importantly her father's undivided attention.

Her father, Iasion, preferred to live quietly; never holding a steady job for long, just following his muse or next great interest, and never returning to the farm life he knew before she graced his life. He had often taken her along on his road trips to visit obscure museums or ancient temples dedicated to equally ancient gods and goddesses. Rey's favorite bedtime story as a child had been The Odyssey. An exciting tale of brave heroes and a beautiful woman who'd driven men to madness. Lil' Rey had liked to pretend she was a goddess destined to change the course of history or able to bring men to their knees for love of her. Grownup Rey snickered at her youthful daydreams as she rode the elevator up to the top floor. Such a childish fancy, that. These days she'd prefer one man, in his right mind. Any beyond that would be more of an annoyance; though maybe two men fighting over her would be a minuscule thrill, a tiny feminine voice trilled. At the present though, she was young, single, and comfortable being so.

She exited the lift and entered the front door. Placing her purse and work bag on a side table she called out, "Dad, I'm home!" and, heaving a sigh of relief, kicked her shoes off as well.

From down the hall came a reply, "Welcome back! How was your day, Louloudi?"

"Wonderful," she hollered back from the bathroom, where she'd gone to hang up her rain jacket to dry in the tub. "My cleome seedlings sprouted and the sugar magnolia peas too. Another month and it might be warm enough to start the spring vegetables in the garden."

She padded barefoot down the hallway to her father's study and leaned in the doorway, arms crossed. Iasion was hunched over his old desk, staring down a microscope at a butterfly's wing. A sketchbook in hand, he was coloring in the specimen he had drawn. She smiled at the sight of his familiar mussed blonde hair and inky fingers. His latest field of study was entomology; specifically the migratory habits of the monarch butterfly.

"Have you eaten anything today, Dad?" she asked, walking across the old shag rug which he swore was once the height of fashion. It may have been so, but it was now a faded poopy brown and worn through in places. Rey had tried to replace it, purchasing a richly colored oriental rug to put down instead. The new rug now graced the dining room instead. The brown rug held "pleasant memories'' and that was that.

Her father paused mid-stroke to think. "Yes. I- I ate an apple, dear. Well, I hope it was an apple," he replied distractedly and bent again to his work.

Rey laughed, "At least it was something. I'll go see if Rose left us something on the stove for dinner."

Iasion thanked her absentmindedly as she left in search of their supper. She thanked the unseen god again, who had brought Rose to their doorstep after they realized they were inept in the kitchen. Someone in the house who knew how to cook so that they didn't starve to death surrounded by food. What a pathetic obituary that would have made, she snickered.

After a delicious dinner of clam chowder and freshly baked sourdough bread, which Rose knew Rey had a weakness for, bless her, Rey and her father settled down companionably in the living room. She set about building a fire in the intricately carved fireplace. Soon, a fire was crackling cheerfully in the grate, sending forth warmth that Rey happily soaked up with her slippered feet extended towards it. She liked to imagine that the flowers and vines carved into the mantelpiece spread their petals towards the heat too. If she peered closely, she could see the rough shape of a daisy she'd etched into it with a pen knife years ago. She'd received quite the lecture when her father discovered it, but he never tried to sand it out.

Iasion always insisted on sitting in the chair on the right side of the fireplace. He claimed it had taken him years to break it in and he wouldn't share it... even with his favorite daughter. She always played along and griped that she was his only daughter, to which he gladly reminded her that said happenstance also made her his least favorite child. Some may have called the exchange predictable, but it was that very predictability that Rey treasured. She had her place in this vast universe and a place in her father's affection; she wanted nothing else.

Tonight the wind howled restlessly past the windows, seeming angry that it could not get in and warm itself before the fire too. The rain continued pouring down from the heavens in a never-ending stream; basically average spring weather for Corellia, whose inhabitants endured the yearly deluge knowing that it produced such abundant life in the summer in exchange. Corellians were mightily proud of their rolling hills and lush landscape. In the distance, thunder began to roll menacingly and Rey shivered in response.

"You'd almost think the gods were angry on a night like this," she said, before taking a sip of her chamomile tea. "I never sleep well during thunderstorms, you know. Here's hoping I'm so worn out from work that I get some sleep tonight despite it."

"Maybe you've angered Zeus by loving green and growing things too much. Demeter would be pleased though," he winked. "He's a jealous being you know," he teased.

Rey chuckled, "Sure, Dad," she said, rolling her eyes, "That must be it. I'll just pop over to Athens and leave him an offering to appease him. Maybe a bucket of rain...he's sending enough!"

Her father snorted under his breath, "That lip will get you into trouble one day, Louloudi."

"Is that a challenge, Papa? Who knows, maybe it will save me instead," she retorted fondly.

Rey set her empty teacup down on the tray between them and stood with a small groan.

"Time to tuck my babies in," she said. "Enjoy your tea, Dearest. I'll come say goodnight before I turn in." With that, she kissed him on the forehead and walked over to the spiral staircase in the corner of the room. The staircase was not original to the home but had been added on by the previous owner. He'd wanted a place to look down upon the "little mortals," or so the story went, and built a sunroom atop the roof. The domed glass roof was famous in the area and a popular place for aspiring astronomers to view eclipses when her father condescended to open it up for visitors.

Climbing the black metal-work stairs, she ascended into her favorite space in the house, her garden, and while it wasn't the secret garden she'd dreamed up in her youth, it was still her refuge. When they had first moved into the penthouse, her father had used it as an office. He'd found the bright sunlit space the perfect place to think and have a baby-free moment, but when she got old enough to garden her green thumb quickly overran their home. There had been flowers in profusion in every window, plants on the tables, ferns hanging from the ceiling, and ivy twining around the furniture. Her father had borne with her indoor jungle until the day her lone Venus flytrap had eaten one of his live specimens. Then he had banished her to the conservatory along with the majority of her garden; a precious few ferns were allowed to remain downstairs.

Rey was humming Lavender Blue to her plants as she watered them when she heard a muffled crash followed by a loud thump from the floor below. Fear gripped her heart for a moment, she felt frozen in time between one heartbeat and the next. Then she recalled herself and jogged towards the stairs, watering hose falling heedlessly from her hands.

"Father?" she called out tentatively. When he didn't respond, she felt an icy panic begin to flow in her veins. Her heart lodged in her throat, she cried out again...

"Papa!?"

She flew down the stairs on wings Hermes would be jealous of.

"Daddy," she choked out when she spied his beloved form crumpled on the floor in front of his chair. She hastened to his side, frantically gathering as much of him into her lap as she could manage. His skin was pallid and clammy, nearly devoid of color as she searched for his heartbeat. With great relief, she felt his pulse beneath her fingers, but it was fast, too fast, some part of her knew. She ought to call an ambulance, but hesitated to leave him alone...what if? He stirred in her arms, his eyes opening slowly as if they were weighted down. She almost sagged from relief.

"Papa, can you hear me?" she asked.

"Kore," he whispered huskily. "My precious flower." He reached up and wiped away a tear from her cheek. "I wanted to name you Persephone, you know. Did I ever tell you that?" he ended with a cough. Her heart wrenched to hear his once strong voice whisper-thin.

"No, I didn't," she answered, forcing the words out evenly. She didn't want to alarm him in his precarious state.

"Your mother wanted to name you Kore, and she won, of course. I never could tell her no," he chuckled dryly, a wisp of a smile on his lips before he coughed again.

"Let me call you an ambulance, Dad. Can you just hold on for a few minutes? Please," she pleaded.

"I'm sorry, Louloudi, I don't think I can," he whispered. "Please, forgive me, my darling daughter. I love you..." He raised a hand to cup her freckled cheek before he closed his eyes, and, with a last sigh, he died.

Rey's heartbroken wail pierced the offending silence that followed so loudly she would later marvel that the glass hadn't shattered in the windows.

A cold draft and a hollow ringing in Rey's ears broke through the haze of grief surrounding her and she startled to find that she was no longer alone in the room. Before her, in the room's shadows, stood a mammoth man dressed in black from head to toe. He rather resembles a vulture, she fleetingly thought.

She would have stumbled back in fear, if not for her father's body in her lap. She drew her father closer protectively.

"Who are you?" she gasped out, wide-eyed.

"You can see me?" the man asked from the shadows.

"Yes, of course, I can, seeing as you're standing right in front of me, you great bloody lout!" she yelled in fright.

"Most mortals can't see me; you can. Interesting," he said.

"I'll ask you one more time," Rey said, her voice taking a threatening edge, "before I call the police."

"I am Death," he said. "I've come to collect your father."

Rey sat back on her heels aghast. "Are you mad?! What do you mean? That's utterly ridiculous!" she retorted.

"I'm Hades, and I have come to collect your father," he stated again, slowly. He hadn't taken her for a fool, but the night was young. "As a former consort of a goddess he has earned the privilege of my personal guidance into the underworld."

He spoke calmly and Rey found herself much perturbed at the madman who had foisted himself upon her in her hour of grief.

"Bollocks," she said. "No one believes in gods and goddesses anymore... except for maybe my father. You don't exist, you're just a figment of my imagination," she argued on. "I'm sure it's just the- it's just all getting to me…"

"Oh, I assure you, I do exist," he said, growing mildly frustrated with this impudent little mortal. "Would it help if I demonstrated my power for you?"

Rey's undignified snort was her answer.

Seeing as it was going to be the only reply he got, Hades cocked his head to the side to observe the fiery woman before him. She intrigued him. He had seen mortals throughout the ages; watched them scurrying about their short lives, met them upon their deaths, and something was just different about her. There was life in her aura, in all its vitality. She practically fizzed with it, and he absently wondered how her skin could contain it all. Hades wished he'd taken the time to read the details of Iasion's life more closely before he'd departed home. He knew the male mortal was a one-time consort to a goddess, but he didn't remember which one. Maybe that would help him to solve the riddle of the fireball before him. Was she his wife, daughter, niece…?

He was feeling in a rather benevolent mood, so when the idea popped into his head he didn't second-guess it, he was a god after all. Surely he could amuse himself like his brothers did and break the rules once in a while to fit his mood.

"How about I give you five minutes to say goodbye to your- ...person before I take him," he offered.

"A chance to say goodbye?" she whispered. If he could deliver, maybe he was who he said he was. If not, he was just a wildly unstable man and she needed to get away from him very quickly. "All right, I accept," she said hastily, dumbfounded for even considering his ridiculous offer.

"Let it be so," Hades said, his voice rang through the air, echoing unnaturally.

Her father jerked suddenly in her arms and Rey stared down in astonishment and fear. She watched the color come back into his lips and as his dear eyes opened once again her fears melted away like the spring snow.

"Father," she cried. "I can't believe it, you- you died!" she said.

"I did?" he replied, puzzled. He sat up and patted down his chest and arms. "I feel okay now if a bit woozy. If I was dead how can I be talking to you?" he asked, looking around at the lack of paramedics in the room.

Rey pointed discreetly in Hades' direction, to where he stood in the shadows.

"He did it," she hissed loudly, "He said his name is Hades," her wide eyes indicating she clearly thought the man was delusional. "He also said he was Death, and he was here to escort you to the underworld. Oh yeah- and you had been the consort of a goddess? So it's been an interesting evening all in all."

Her father looked ashen as he met Hades' level gaze. Rey watched recognition bloom across her father's face and she felt her heart quake as if a leaf before a strong wind sends it flying.

"It can't possibly be true? Right, Dad? All of the stories you told me were just myths- fairytales you made up to teach me morals wrapped in adventure…" her voice dropped off as she felt the weight of her father's gaze turned to her. Hazel eyes met blue and she recognized the earth-shattering truth written clearly on his face.

"It's true," she whispered, "It's all true…"

###################

A/N: I owe a debt of gratitude to my beta, Angela, for once again watching over one of my stories and keeping me on the straight and narrow.

This story will update bi-weekly, but no less than once a month. I've got two other WIPS to work on, and this story is definitely requiring more research. Comments are my life :)))