Even as the last of the wedding bells sounded in Zeus's realm, down in their hidden lair the three Fates took a rare moment from their work to smile at each other. It wasn't a nice smile. Each of the unfathomably old sisters wore resignation in their milky-white eyes.
Clotho touched a tiny thread of life that barely jutted out between the force of Hades and the force of Persephone. There were two other nubs beside it, barely distinguishable to even an immortal eye but the Moirae knew their work well. It them, each possibility of new life sparkled and was as apparent as the fabric of reality itself. They saw all and knew all.
"The princess will be here soon," Clotho sighed. "So much like her father already. Everything in its own time. She will be magnificent."
Lachesis was busy altering strands that stretched over their heads, vine-like, and connected to the vast array of web around Zeus's bright golden sheen. Zeus's force bounced through nearly all they worked on in one way or another, a vast shining beacon that gave birth to new fates every moment, as the future was so closely shaped by his whims.
"It is no good," Lachesis exclaimed. "I can't get any kind of read on the other titans. Here, see?"
All of the sisters watched as a strange sort of mist caressed various lines of fate but the result was unclear. Some appeared to sizzle and fray, some melted as though touched by acid and some seeped a strange form of liquid - something that almost resembled oil - out onto the floor. The Moirae tried to clean at the damaged threads but their work did little.
Atropos, the fate of the future, hissed disdain.
"The titans trapped below will never cease their efforts to take back the realms," she spat.
Family was important. Family was both the place of the strongest of loyalties and the blackest of hatreds. The Moirae's family extended across both titans and the gods and goddesses alike, but they knew that only the possibility of a bright future could occur if their nieces and nephews were in power. They had lived through the ages of their siblings. Time and space and reality would not do well to see another age under their rule.
And right at the heart of this struggle were the humans, who they had so long cultivated. Thousands of years of progress would be corrupted in an instant should certain titans break free and reign once more.
"It isn't Macaria who will be the risk," Clotho reminded them all. "She will see to the benefit of the Underworld and never set foot in Zeus's realm. There is nothing to fear. We have time."
Atropos shot her sister a withering look.
"No. There is plenty to fear but once again, it is the male lineage."She gestured at the second of the three strands from Persephone and Hades. "It is Zagreus we must watch and we must fear. For in his choice lies the future. In his choice alone is the determination of whether we can continue to see what is fated."
The three beings blinked and paused their work, contemplating what it would be like to be without purpose. It was one of their deepest fears and shared horrors, that they would be obsolete and cease to be able to continue their masterpiece. Their hidden home, full of the fabric of all fate that resembled an enormous spider's web, was all they ever wanted or needed.
"All must eventually come to an end," Clotho reflected, as the sisters shared their silent terror.
Lachesis plied apart one of the 'ropes' of interconnecting lives that ran along the floor, plucking one of the infinitesimal mortal threads into a new direction entirely, as somewhere a young man discovered his love of music and his life started to take a different course.
"Not like this," Lachesis moaned. "It doesn't have to be destruction. It could be decay. The realms could go on peacefully for so much longer."
"Remember," Clotho prompted, starting to feed her hope. "There is a third child of the Underworld. It stands to reason that there is a strong possibility that this son of Hades will make the right choice, face terrible consequences, and his little sister will have the chance to be born."
Lachesis laughed drily.
"Oh Melinoe," she sighed. "She will be a wild heart, following Hecate more closely than either of her parents. A strange little thing, born of equal parts light and dark. I hope we get to meet her."
There was an echo through their home at the end of this pronouncement. All of the sisters picked up the nearest thing that they could use as a weapon - Clotho her needle, Lachesis her pliers, Atropos clutched her scissors - at the forbidding sound. Nothing was able to get into their home without their permission, not even a noise. They stared into the semi-darkness, waiting.
But nothing happened.
"The titans..." Clotho wondered aloud, gathering up her spindle in case of invasion. The titans would not take her ability to create new life from her. It could spell disaster for all.
"Japetus." Lachesis realised. "He and his kin are closer to freeing themselves than I realised." She took her staff, her instrument of diving the ways of destiny, and used it to pat at the mists. "This is his doing. He told Hades the prophecies of his children. He has begun to try and influence destiny by himself."
"Someone approaches!" Atropos warned them, opening her scissors wide.
"It's just Eileithyia," Clotho breathed and all of the sisters shared her relief. Their co-worker, the goddess of childbirth and labour, was not an enemy. Out of the shadows Eileithyia appeared, roses blooming in her cheeks as she gave the frightened Moirae a dazzling smile.
"Persephone will be in labour soon," she told them gleefully. "It is so wonderful to be back in the Underworld again!"
"And so you must get to work," Clotho told her, returning her friend's smile only not nearly as brightly. "Go. We shall see you again soon."
Eileithyia picked up the ends of her dress and turned, once more, into the shadows. She vanished. But she had left them with optimism.
"Have faith in the days to come!" Clotho called out to her siblings. "Life begets life and will fight for its survival! Nothing has changed."
They returned to their duties with vigour, pointedly not staring at the gathering mists that disrupted their steady work.
High above, in the House of Hades, Eileithyia appeared before the King and his Queen. They were searching the shelves of the Dead Chronicles in the library. As soon as the goddess of birth appeared, Persephone cried out and a tome fell from her hands onto the floor. Her handmaiden Daeira caught sight of the appearance of the goddess and her eyes went wide. She helped her mistress to sit on the floor and called for assistance.
"Hades," Eileithyia murmured. "Your daughter is about to come into the world." She laughed but had a kind smile for the mingled look of surprise and helplessness on Hades's features. "Help your wife into her bed and let me do my work."
Hades gently and ever so carefully helped Persephone to stand. He took her into his arms as she writhed, the first contractions snaking down her spine.
"Please, I implore you to be kind," he muttered to Eileithyia as he set Persephone on the bed and pulled back her hair. Persephone took his hand. She panted and wailed a little as the pain grew.
"Do not fear," Eileithyia assured him, already ordering the servants around as though she had been in the House all of her days. "It will not be long."
"Hades," Persephone hissed between her teeth. "Hades. We will be fine. Let her work."
Hades gave Persephone a long, lingering kiss on her forehead and left the room. Eileithyia made sure the bustle of nymphs had everything their Queen required and set Daeira on a seat at her mistress's side. Then she gave Persephone a wink.
"The men always panic," she laughed again, and her cheer made everyone in the room smile. "My dear aunt, this will be over soon and the girl of your dreams will lie in your arms."
"I'm what?" Persephone panted, heaving at the next contraction. Daeira squeezed her mistress's hand.
Eileithyia set hot water aside and bundled a new cushion under Persephone's head.
"My father is Zeus, my mother Hera," she told the Queen of the Underworld. "Hades is my uncle. This new baby girl will be my beloved niece. I won't let anything happen to you or to her. Relax and breathe with me."
For a while, the two goddesses forgot time and space. They forgot about Hades, pacing furiously outside the room full of nerves and anxieties. They forgot about the waters of the realm, hissing with either fire or foam. They fell away from the wider affairs of realms and monsters and humans and powers. There was only a small bubble of reality and inside, the two of them brought Macaria into the world.
Persephone heard her daughter's cry and sighed. She lay back and stared at the ceiling. Daeira wiped her sweat-covered forehead and then Eileithyia was beside her, holding a bundle in her arms.
Persephone reached out and took her child. There wasn't words for how she felt. There was power beyond measure flowing through her veins, making her feel both stronger and more vulnerable than she'd ever been. Her daughter was perfect.
"I'll get Hades," Eileithyia promised, turning away from the sight of Persephone's tears of joy. "Congratulations."
"Thank you," Persephone whispered, soothing Macaria's cries into gurgles as the baby began to feed. "Thank you so much."