As If Nothing's Changed

Yeah, I lied about this chapter gonna be super long, but this was broken off from the next chapter cuz I felt it worked well on its own, and I wanted a chapter just for Hades.

Alright this has been a long time coming but after taking an architecture course this semester I learned quite a lot about Greek culture, specifically the ancient variety. I bet you're saying how the hell do you learn culture in an Arch class, but you'd actually be surprised.

Like I learned that bright and multiple colors were meant to represent power for example. Sound familiar, huh?

Yes all the statues the Ancient Greeks had were once brightly painted but that paint has faded away, so the way the gods are presented in the movie are actually well done. Props to you Disney.

But there was one important thing that I picked up that I will discuss now, I have several other points that we'll see in upcoming chapters but this one is relevant here. What is the worst form of punishment- far worse than death for the Greeks? Being exiled, banished, outcast, etc.

Hmm, I wonder… does that sound familiar to y'all?

Let's just keep that in mind shall we?

Disclaimer: Chapter 1

"It gets so lonely being evil

What I'd do to see a smile

Even for a little while

And no one loves you when you're evil…"

When You're Evil, Aurelio Voltaire

Venturing topside was always at the top of his to-do list, but after having to juggle between running a kingdom and having to deal with his troublesome employees (namely ones that can't keep their hands to themselves) it was enough to delay his trip by a couple of days.

First, there was settling the inhabitants of the Fields of Asphodel as they so nicely called it- not even giving a damn about what he wanted when he's supposed to be calling the shots, but that Melinoe was stubborn and a little on the creepy side. She was the leader of those Lampades and she outright refused to do a thing, and it's not like he could order the other ones around, they were all deaf and mute, apparently.

But there was a quasi-truce established between the two of them, once Hades realized the Lampades were keeping the reinterred shades in these new fields. They were almost herding them like sheep, but instead of using crooks, the Lampades gathered a bunch of dried branches and lit them with the lilac flames that spurted now and then among the asphodel flowers from where they were created.

So that was one thing he didn't have to fix, they did a job, maybe not the job of sorting out the souls like he wanted, but it was something, and he didn't need the shades to get cocky again. It was nice having some backup other than the Furies who were doing the last checkups Tartarus right about now.

Speaking of that damned place- heh… He had been spending a lot of time in Tartarus, adding his own personal touch to the array- hyping up the punishment just a tad. Adding fire to everything wasn't his first idea, but hey, it was not just his aesthetic. It was only convenient for him to provide quickly and easily. Easily because it seemed he was easier to tick off these days, anyways, so away he went on his brooding self.

Charon, on the other hand, never stopped rowing. Following orders from his boss to transport souls on his boat to allow the influx of souls to be moved faster to where the three Judges were judging in their open courthouse.

Now, Cerberus was back to what he did best- keeping the souls in the Underworld while Thanatos was double- no, triple timing it in the land of the living, making sure everyone who is supposed to be dead- stayed that way in order to prevent another Sisyphus incident as they were dubbing it down here.

It was for the best. That kid was less of a problem the more he did his job, but being that he couldn't overwork him too much because of unnecessary child labor laws, but, Thanatos didn't know about those laws- his mom did though. Thank the Fates he convinced that bird brain not to tattle to his mom, Nyx.

Oi, he did not want to get on her bad side.

All in all, there is never enough hands, but they would make do with what they had. He'd be- well damned if he never got his kingdom back in tip-top shape.

For the past- hell, he didn't even know, but it was probably noon topside, he'd been signing scroll after scroll, paying bill after bill, and making sure that resources were being restocked and put in the right places. Everything had been non-stop since he got back as the reinstated host of the ghosts.

Yet in between all that, Hades greeted the souls wherever he went- almost like they were flocking towards him everywhere he went always tailing him be it in the docks, Tartarus- the Court house- wherever. When they wouldn't stop following him, he would go out of his way to remind them he was back in business, and not putting up with anyone's crap as a few of the souls were unfortunate enough to go through, putting up with his growing frustrations.

Dead they may be, but pain from the god's hellish flames was one of the most painful things they could go through since they couldn't get any deader. And if they were past the point of comprehension, he dumped those lousy souls into Lethe to get them to cooperate.

Don't get him wrong, though, the increased influx of souls not related to the escapees was up by ten percent and more dead meant his kingdom's business had risen despite his absence. Although, according to Thanatos' numbers, it was not because of the mortal realms incessant festivals- rather it was thanks to a budding disagreement between two powerful city states of Greece: namely Sparta and Athens.

Seems like there was a little argument stirring between Athena and Ares. Those two always hated each other and it looked like with the recent events something might have added kindling to their never ending feud.

Hades would have been satisfied that the Underworld numbers would be steadily increasing thanks in part to this brewing war, but his thoughts were elsewhere.

Not on the recently deceased demigod with a penchant to get on every single one of his nerves, but on someone else who had managed to strike a different kind of nerve.

Personally, Hades, wasn't really as focused on his job as a part of him would have liked. There were more pressing matters at hand, and on that note he hadn't even given a single thought to Hercules until now!

Huh, you would think after all that time trying to put that sucker six feet under, he'd relish more in the thought that he owns the son of his greatest rival?

But now?

Why did his one, monumental victory feel so small?

It's not like he won often- especially against the gods of Olympus, but now that he had Wonder Breath as the ace up his sleeve after so many failed attempts it didn't even matter!

Oi, you'd think with Jerkules gone his plans would run all the more smoothly, but what plan did he even have anymore? It's not like he could send the demigod to Tartarus, Zeus' interference when it came to heroes was next to impossible to ignore. The best bet he could do was keep him away from the Judges before they gave him a Fastpass to Elysium.

And Persephone?

He felt a beleaguered sigh escape his mouth.

Hades pondered about taking this lull in work to smoke and clear his thoughts, but at this point he didn't feel the need to. If one of the boys came running in here notifying him of a new problem, he didn't want to waste a good cigar.

Still with nothing to do but wait for when he was needed, Hades took a moment to consider the goddess constantly plaguing his thoughts.

It was a strange feeling, guilt.

That nauseating, sour taste in his mouth that tasted far worse than expired goat milk. He had had it when he was much greener and wet behind the ears, so to speak, but after a few millennia you tend to stop caring. It was great for coping mind you.

But now?

Maybe that's why he had been throwing so much work on his plate, instead of resting himself and his exhausted underlings it allowed him to ignore how warped his priorities had become, especially over certain matters.

He'd hate to call it matters of the heart, but unfortunately for him that's exactly what it was. The powers that be, whatever the hell they were at this moment, were being extra cruel on that matter when flowers started springing up every time his thoughts drifted to her and he'd feel even more raged.

Flowers ranging from roses to violets to poppies to other flowers that didn't even deserve the mention, but gods he was starting to remember why he hated Spring so much. Although it was because of that very season that it brought all of that gooey mush he never had and now- why of all the things was she a goddess of Spring?

Really, Fates? Really?

Hades sighed, and began to massage his temple. She deserved more and what he gave her turned into ash and smoke. He was back in his own hell, sitting on an obsidian throne in an empty throne room with a kingdom of the dead. A far cry from the shining, heavenly city on Mount Olympus that overlooked the cities of rising empires.

This hell was certainly worse than that swirling river of fire known as the Phlegethon. No, that hell was far too kind for him as he sat in deep thought.

He had everything given to him in the blink of an eye: freedom, power, and an innocent goddess with an ambition to rival his own that should have been swept under his silver tongue had she not learned too well from him of all people.

She who played his game and won, sending him back to the prison he had been rotting in for months, but in a final act of mercy had let him go. A final act that left so much to the imagination to what her act implied, but all in all there was regret for both parties.

Regret of what could have been.

Maybe that was why he was so peeved about how everything turned out. Everything was back to the way it was- as if nothing had changed.

Yet.

His gaze now rested on the bowl that was filled with all the shards of the broken scythe Praxidice. Like he ordered, his imps had collected every single fragment and put them in a bowl which rested on a raised table waiting for its mistress.

Maybe they had.

Oh, Persephone, the goddess full of surprises.

He'd been such an idiot underestimating her. He played with her naivety, but in that same way he did with Nutmeg, he underestimated their level of compassion.

Meg, was self-explanatory that lady with her emotional baggage with men, honestly you thought she learned. You'd think she'd leave the sucker she successfully seduced, but how the hell was he to expect that she of all the cynical, apathetic, heart-broken women in the world did she happen upon preying an actual good person. Who in turn found some goodness in that basket case.

Oi! You can't make this stuff up!

Now Persephone, you'd expect it. She was good and pure so her motivation at the end of their time together made sense. Her mercy towards him- that moment with Hercules when she ignored her own desires and decided to take the high ground. Of course she had to have morals- it was just his luck, but she had that spark.

That spark that none of the gods have, and was so common among mortals. It was almost wild that little spark, a wildness that was expected of nature, but yet surprising in the same way a flood is when you find your house is gone- an earthquake that breaks the foundation of your once stable home.

You can try to control nature, mold it into something that is useful, but it always has that funny little way of being unpredictable, no matter how hard you try to combat against it's very nature. Simplistically, it could all be summed up with the phrase: Life finds a way.

That same way Athena and Demeter had tried to suppress Persephone's very nature had come to shock them as he himself had been a victim too, oh so, recently.

Oh, sweetness, if only I knew you'd be this much trouble I would have pursued you much sooner.

Though he had sparse memories of Persephone on his infrequent visits to Olympus there were instances when he saw Demeter and Athena together and consequentially she would be there too since she mostly stood by her mother. It wasn't like she commanded a presence, Persephone kept to herself, he didn't even think he ever heard her speak, much less took a second to look at her until that fateful day.

His first impression of her?

Easy.

She bled easily into crowds, she was quiet, and she looked shy, judging by how she never left her mother's side, what more was there to her?

And now all he wanted to do was get involved with her once again.

One goddess who probably wanted nothing to do with him after everything, but damn she was worth it- that fire- that power- that level of deceit- oh it was enough to get his cold black heart to start thumping again. Aphrodite never incited this level of attraction as this oh-so innocent goddess of Spring, and he would have never known about that side if he hadn't gotten her riled up that bad.

Pros and cons mind you, but he didn't want that fire directed at him any time soon- at least the rage aspect.

He'd been avoiding this for too long, it was time to visit her, he decided silently. He gave her sufficient time to cool down and mull over her thoughts like he had done the same for himself before he jumped to conclusions for his nonexistent love life.

Hades scanned the empty throne room one more time and was unsurprised at the small patch of five petalled flowers that had sprouted on the arms of his throne.

The dark mauve hues and the bright yellow pollen upon the violets were such stark contrasts to the monotone atmosphere that Hades didn't even have the heart to burn them like usual. He took time to admire them and allowed his thoughts to wander as he muddled through the myriad of his mind.

It was easy too with the absence of noise- the absence of anyone around here. Pain and Panic were the only ones who usually followed him around, but they were tracking numbers at the front, greeting the new arrivals, and the way this palace was built, it kept everything silent as a tomb.

All it did though was remind him even more of why he hated living down here.

Y'know, old Zeusy decreed a long time ago that it was not right for man to live alone. Perhaps that same principle applied to gods as well?

It was time for some changes around here, Hades mused, as his fingers grazed one particular bloom that did not look like the rest. A white violet that was beginning to show signs of the dark hues of its brethren by the tell tale signs of the lilac coloring at the edges of its petals.

Well, he did make a promise that if he was ever going to do it, he was only going to do it once.

Hades raced out of his seat and set himself where the bowl of shards sat and began to take a good look at the interior design of this place.

What was that thing he said to Persephone when he gave her the run-around of this place?

Hades snapped his fingers as the memory resurfaced.

"Y'know, this place really needs a woman's touch," his index finger mixed the shards as his decision was firmly cemented into his mind.

Hades couldn't help but let the smirk on his face grow as the fragments of metal began to mold together and formed something completely different than its initial intent. Gone was the farmer's tool and the weapon of a power-hungry Titan.

This object would command and show authority not bend underneath other's rule. For it was a crown, and crowns were not the symbols of serfs.

"It really does."

I wrote this watching Beetlejuice- sue me.

Anyways next chapter should be out soon, and this time it's for realzies and will be super long.

See ya on the flip side!