Disclaimer: I don't own Trials of Apollo.

HADES II
Apollo's Ridiculous Plan Is Revealed

Hades snatched back his hand, releasing Apollo's throat, and the younger god took a step backwards, one hand coming up to massage at the abused flesh of his physical form. A shimmer of gold passed across the skin, sealing up small divots seeping golden ichor where his nails had broken through, but Apollo seemed unperturbed at the minor wounds.

"If this was inevitable, why did you decide to tell me?" It would have been kinder to live in ignorance of what his son was up to until it was too late; now, he was cursed with the knowledge that Nico would enter Tartarus again, no matter how he tried to prevent it.

Prophecies were infuriating like that.

"My son is going to die." The matter-of-fact tone Apollo had used to recite the prophecy was gone, leaving one with the slightest of tremors. Whether they were tremors of fury, grief, or something else entirely, Hades did not care to assume.

The prophecy had saved its more dire lines for the light-aligned references, a fact Hades took small relief from although he knew better than anyone that Thanatos could take at any time, and that the absence of death in a prophecy did not equate a lack of death on the quest. Not all quest-related deaths were fair, or even necessary, but then, death itself was not fair.

"You of all beings know that prophecies are rarely so straight forward," he remarked, striding past where Apollo stood on his throne room floor and returning to sit in his throne. "You cannot be certain of William's fate."

Apollo heard prophecies, saw them, caught snatches and glimpses of things no-one else could see or hear, but for all his foresight, he did not have foreknowledge. Hades was well aware that Apollo had barely any more idea what the lines meant than he did; it was not something he kept secret, and indeed was frequently brought up whenever anyone else tried to decipher prophecies.

Having his son – one he had recently connected with on a level Apollo had avoided for centuries – the blatant subject of one had apparently stripped the younger god of his at times frustratingly level head on the topic.

"Will is too kind for the Pit," Apollo argued, turning around to face him. "I don't need my foresight to know it will tear him apart."

Hades waved a hand dismissively. "And? The fate of your son does not concern me."

"But it concerns Nico," Apollo retorted immediately. "It concerns your son-" he took a step forwards "-who you want to be happy." He crossed the rest of the distance to the foot of Hades' throne, glowering up at him with those eyes that were still far too identical to the Phlegethon. "Do you think Nico will stay happy if Will dies?"

That was a question with an answer so obvious it didn't need to be spoken. Hades had seen Nico's descent after Bianca's death, an event he had never recovered from. He had seen his reaction to Jason Grace's death, a boy he had not even known for long but had wormed his way into his son's heart as someone special. A third death of that magnitude would break whatever inside Nico had not yet shattered, likely beyond all repair.

Still, that did not make it Hades' problem to try and prevent. William was Apollo's son, and therefore Apollo's responsibility. There was, of course, the small issue of the Ancient Laws preventing them from interfering directly, but none of them were a stranger to finding ways to indirectly interfere. Apollo himself had bent those rules so far they'd folded over backwards when Artemis had been captured by Atlas.

Why was he hesitating now? Had his punishment as a mortal truly scared him so much that he couldn't bring himself to even try and bend the rules again? That didn't fit with the Apollo Hades had known for four millennia, and no god changed that drastically within the span of half a year.

Alternatively, Apollo had already found his loophole, but for some reason was unable to action it himself, which was why he was in Hades' palace, taking up his valuable time with complaints about his son's upcoming fate and making strong suggestions that it would be in Hades' interest to… what? Help? He had to be truly desperate if that was the case; Hades did not help anyone. Not his brethren, not his children, and certainly not heroes.

"What do you want from me, Apollo?" he asked, tired of trying to read the younger god. "Some of us have duties to be doing and do not have the time for idle conversation." Admittedly, it was unlikely that Apollo was genuinely ignoring all of his duties; Zeus would notice if the sun chariot was left on autopilot, and not even Apollo would risk drawing his father's wrath so soon after the last punishment. One perk to having his domain entirely out of the eyes of his brother meant that Hades could do things like collect himself all in one place to deal with an errant nephew gate-crashing his palace, but it was one very few other gods enjoyed.

That being said, the level of power Hades had had to deploy in order to throw his nephew out implied that only the bare minimum that Apollo could get away with was elsewhere; the vast majority of his essence was standing before him, coalesced into Apollo's usual form of the blond-haired young mortal barely out of teenagerhood who could easily be the brother of the demigod whose fate they were discussing.

It was the same appearance Hades recalled from times gone past, not the most recent years where he'd instead taken the form of a teenager, but a century ago, when the Great Prophecy had spoken and the elder gods had been forced to swear an oath to never sire children again. Zeus had been displeased at Apollo then, the god of prophecy trying to fade back, out of sight against his father's frustration. Apollo wasn't skulking in the background with hunched shoulders this time, though. No, he was still standing with his shoulders thrown back, spine straight up and expression a careful mask.

A far more careful, blank mask than it had been moments earlier. Guarded, as though he thought Hades' question was a trap.

Admittedly, that was a fair assumption to make.

"Did I say I wanted anything?" his nephew asked. "I don't remember saying that." He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans, putting a curve to his spine that made his pose look suddenly nonchalant. "Well, I've told you what you needed to know. Catch you later."

He disappeared in a burst of sunbeams and solar flares, lighting up the black walls in a flash not too unlike the split-second burst of his father's lightning, leaving Hades staring at the space where he'd been stood not a moment before.

Now, he was certain of it; whatever interference Apollo had planned for his son's – their sons' – quest, the younger god had been trying to secure his assistance. It was risky on his nephew's behalf; Zeus would not take kindly to it should word reach his ear, and in their family, assistance never came for free.

Down here, in Hades' domain, Zeus was not a concern. His younger brother could not enter uninvited, and Hades was no bootlicker to the king of the gods. If Apollo wanted to bend some rules, Hades did not care enough to tattle.

No, the question was what Hades' assistance was worth, and if he wanted to give it at all. Prophecies, as Apollo himself had told them all time and time again, were both notoriously unreliable, and also inevitable in their conclusions. Attempting to subvert them was unwise and dangerous. Nothing good could possibly come of it.

Apollo's abrupt departure allowed him to put off considering the quandary further; there was no guarantee that his nephew would even continue trying to secure his assistance, or if he would look for a new loophole in the Laws to exploit, and Hades was a busy god. Mortals didn't just stop dying whenever he took a break from the paperwork, after all.

He sent off a sliver of his consciousness to lurk in the shadows of the Overworld – if Nico was planning on going to Tartarus, he was going to know how, when, and every detail of his plan even if it meant resorting to spying on his son every moment – before dividing himself across his duties once again, as though he'd never been interrupted.

Several days passed in that fashion, and Hades could almost forget Apollo's behaviour if not for the fact that the sliver watching his son was learning far too much about the upcoming quest, including the fact that he had made acquaintances with the troglodytes, of all creatures, to tunnel him down and thereby avoid Hades' own restrictions.

Hades was incredibly grateful – not that he would ever admit it – that Apollo had told him about the upcoming quest, because his son was not wrong in thinking the underground dwellers would be able to get him and William to Tartarus without alerting Hades, had he not already known something was going on. As it was, he was now aware, pleased that William was as unhappy about Nico's interactions with the vicious carnivores as he was – a point in the son of Apollo's favour – and dismissing Apollo's unknown plan while debating with himself how best to approach his son and ban him from going anywhere with his new… tentative allies.

He would escort the demigods to the edge of Tartarus himself if it came to it, now it was an Official Quest with an irritating Unavoidable Prophecy. Nico might not like the interference – Zeus certainly would not – but Tartarus would be hazardous enough without the loose cannons that were the troglodytes. Besides, there was an entrance in the Underworld, which was Hades' domain and Nico often frequented, so it wasn't like his brother could prove that Hades was giving genuine assistance for the quest.

By the time the two demigods decided to embark on their quest – or rather, when they decided to stop procrastinating, because they had every detail organised beyond any practicality – Hades had all but forgotten Apollo's visits.

He was abruptly, and rudely, reminded when his nephew materialised in his throne room in his usual shower of sunbeams and solar flares, scorching a few nearby skeletons that didn't get out of the way fast enough.

"I'm busy," he dismissed the younger god without even looking at him. "Leave."

"They're leaving today," Apollo told him, striding forwards with more than a little desperation in his voice. Hades glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and was a little concerned – not that he'd admit it – to see that his nephew was fully kitted out with his bow, quiver, and even a medicinal pouch. What was Apollo planning?

The other god came to a halt at the edge of the throne's dais, impossible to miss even in his periphery.

"Turn the light down," he ordered, turning his head so that even the glow was barely visible. "This is the Underworld, not your chariot. What are you doing here?"

"Will and Nico are leaving to meet with the troglodytes now," Apollo told him, unnecessarily. "I-"

"I am well aware of that," Hades interrupted him. "Why my son thinks that is a good idea, I would love to know. They are not taking that route."

He met Apollo's eyes in a challenge, daring him to claim that he couldn't interfere because of the prophecy, and tried not to flinch at the bright light still pouring off his nephew's form in waves.

"Good." The sun god fiddled with the string on his bow. "I- That helps a lot. If they don't take that route, I mean."

The god of poetry was supposed to be eloquent, and while Hades had sadly not escaped his haiku phase – or the limerick one, or any of the modern rubbish he had begun to spout instead of the masterful epics he had once composed – he had still never heard him stumble over his words quite like that.

"Apollo," he said firmly, making the split-second decision to rise from his throne and step down to stand in front of his nephew, "what are you planning?" He braved the vibrant light that Apollo had not toned down at all to take another look at the younger god. Apollo looked, frankly, like he was dressed for war. Gone were the lazy, modern clothes he often lounged around in; instead, the sun god had donned his armour over simple, traditional clothing that dated back millennia.

His nephew fidgeted with his bow again, taking a moment before lifting his head to meet Hades' eyes firmly, and with sudden clarity the Lord of the Underworld realised that Apollo – shameless, dramatic Apollo – was nervous.

"My son is not entering the Pit," he declared, with the idiotic conviction of someone who had thought long and hard about a problem and come up with the worst solution imaginable. "I'm taking his place."

Defiant eyes, still the colour of the Phlegethon as they smouldered away inside the rim of blond lashes, dared Hades to try and stop him. He should; quests were for demigods, not for gods, and interference on this scale trampled the Ancient Laws until they were mere specks of dust beneath Apollo's sandaled feet. It would be easy for him to banish Apollo from his realm, then summon the two demigods away from where they were making the trek towards the troglodytes directly to the Underworld and point them in the direction the quest demanded they go. Hades could do all of that, and should.

"How were you planning on stopping your son from following you like a lemming?" he found himself asking, and justified his immediate response as a natural defence against Apollo's sheer stupidity. "Or, if he does show some self-preservation and keeps his feet above ground where they belong, how were you planning on keeping him safe from my brother when he decides the mortal makes an easier target for the sins of the father?"

Apollo swallowed, an unnecessary and entirely human action he must have picked up during his time as a mortal, and adjusted his grip on his bow. Despite the display of nervousness, he didn't look away from Hades' own eyes, and realisation finally dawned.

"You want me to keep him here," he said bluntly. "You want me, the Lord of the Underworld, to keep a living demigod who cannot eat any food I might have to offer him here until you crawl back out of the Pit with my son, so that your father does not kill him for your actions."

"I looked for other places!" Apollo protested, "but-"

But there was nowhere else that Zeus couldn't simply send a thunderbolt and call it a day, Hades knew. Apollo's own sacred places would be firstly too obvious, and secondly an easy target. The Underworld was the safest place if you were looking to hide from the king of the gods, that was true.

He held up a hand to stop Apollo's far longer-winded explanation of the same thing, and his nephew fell silent. Hades held all of the power right then, and he could see the fear Apollo was trying to conceal behind a mask of indifference.

Normally, Apollo was a master actor, but there were times when his masks failed him. The fall of Troy had been one such occasion. Now, it appeared, was another.

Hades regarded his nephew – his stupid, idiotic nephew who was too bright and sunny and light for the Underworld, let alone the Pit he was about to throw himself into – and found himself making a decision that would never have occurred to him before.

He could not stop Apollo from entering Tartarus; regardless what happened with his son, it was clear that the younger god had set his mind on going and providing godly backup to the quest. It was also clear to Hades, who lived with an entrance to the Pit too close to his front door for comfort and was therefore more familiar with the blackness that oozed out of it than any other Olympic god, that none of Apollo's major domains had any foothold inside the Pit, which would leave the younger god weakened and less capable of protecting Nico than Hades would like.

And really, what sort of father would he be if he subjected his son to suffering the unnecessarily dramatic existence of Apollo on top of the horrors that awaited him on the quest?

If Apollo thought he could replace his son in the prophecy and claim the role of sunshine for himself, which was no doubt exactly what he was intending, then what was stopping Hades from claiming darkness as his? It was, after all, one of his many titles.

"Hades?" the other god asked after a moment of silence had passed. "What-"

"Finding a way to keep him alive for the duration of his stay is your responsibility."

Relief broke over Apollo's face like clouds disappearing from where they'd dared conceal the sun. It was uncomfortably blinding. "You'll let him stay?"

"Turn the light down, Apollo. I will not say it again."

The lightshow dimmed immediately, his nephew clearly realising that the wellbeing of his son depended entirely on Hades' mood.

His son was almost at the troglodytes' warren now; Apollo's interruption had cost more time than he was comfortable with, but at least they had not yet made contact. Hades reached across the shadows, linking with the sliver of him observing from the deepest of the shadows and waiting a moment to ensure he had a full connection with his powers before giving a little tug.

Passing demigods through shadows was far less intensive than banishing stubborn sun gods; Hades barely felt a dent in his vast reserves of power as two human-sized figures materialised in the middle of his throne room. Compared to himself and Apollo, both currently in their godly stature, they looked painfully fragile. Mortal.

One of the figures – glowing like a full-body lamp, much like the other god currently in Hades' palace – hunched over awkwardly, groaning. Apollo had been like that once, when he was much younger and not yet accustomed to shadows invading his light as they yanked him around – usually dispensing him somewhere that was not near Hades. He'd grown out of the discomfort over the years, so his son likely would, too, should he survive to grow old enough.

The other was slender, although more like a skeleton than a healthy body, and familiar. Hades watched as his son stepped automatically in front of William, sword leaping to his hand as he assessed the threat.

He almost dropped his sword when his eyes fell on Hades, who gave his son a stern look. Nico was usually immune to most of Hades' displeased faces – much to his frustration and Persephone's amusement, when she was present – but it seemed that, for once, he still held the smallest sliver of fear.

"Nico di Angelo," he announced, walking past Apollo to stand in front of where the demigods crouched. "I seem to recall I forbade you from ever entering the Pit again."

Glad to see so much excitement for this fic so far! We continue now with another Hades pov chapter - next chapter will be the pov of the other character we'll be hearing from directly during this fic!

Thanks for reading!
Tsari