Hades was enjoying one of his favorite pastimes, strolling through Persephone's garden in the Underworld. The garden was a place of strange beauty, with flowers that glowed softly in the twilight and trees that whispered secrets in the language of the dead. Hades never cared much for the surface world's gardens—too bright, too lively—but this one? This one was perfect. And it was made even more perfect by the woman on his arm, her laughter like music that echoed through the shadows.
Persephone was in high spirits, chattering away about the latest gossip from Olympus. Her stories were filled with the usual drama—Aphrodite's latest fling, Hera's newest grudge, and Demeter's never-ending complaints about everything under the sun. Hades listened with a fond smile, not really caring about the trivialities of the other gods but loving the way Persephone's eyes sparkled as she talked. She was so full of life, even down here in the Underworld, and that was something Hades cherished more than he could ever say.
As they walked, Persephone's gossip began to fade, and she shifted to a topic that brought an even brighter smile to her lips. "You'll never guess what Nico did last weekend," she said, her tone full of affection and just a hint of amusement.
Hades raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious. "What did our little Ghost King do this time?"
Persephone giggled—a sound that was far too light and happy for the Lord of the Dead, but one that he couldn't help but adore. "He surprised me with a tea party."
Hades blinked, then laughed softly. The image of Nico, their prim and proper, dark-eyed son, setting up a tea party for Persephone was almost too much. But at the same time, it was exactly the kind of thing Nico would do, in his own quiet, awkward way. "A tea party?"
Persephone nodded, her smile so bright it could have lit up the darkest corners of Tartarus. "Yes, and it was lovely. He even brought some of those little cakes I like from that bakery in Florence. You know, the ones with the lemon glaze?"
Hades' smile grew even fonder, if that was possible. He loved moments like this, when Persephone and Nico bonded in these small but meaningful ways. It meant everything to him to see them get along so well, especially considering the complexities of their family. "Nico does know how to charm a lady," Hades remarked, a hint of pride in his voice.
"He does," Persephone agreed, resting her head against Hades' shoulder as they continued to stroll. "He's a sweet boy, even if he tries to hide it. It's been wonderful, spending more time with him. He's… special."
Hades nodded, understanding exactly what she meant. Nico was indeed special, in more ways than one. Hades had always been fond of his children—at least, as fond as a god of the Underworld could be—but Nico? Nico was different. He had a place in the Underworld royal family that was unlike any other.
It had started, perhaps, because Nico was Maria's son, and both Hades and Persephone had loved Maria in their own ways. Then, it had deepened because Nico was Hades' last child, a symbol of the end of something significant. But now? Now, it was simply because Nico was Nico. He was part of their family, not just by blood, but by choice. And that choice, that understanding, had grown into a deep, abiding love.
Nico had earned his place in their family out of his own merit. He wasn't just Maria's son, or Hades' last demigod child; he was Nico. The boy who had faced more than most gods ever would and had come through it with a strength and resilience that Hades admired. The Underworld royals—Hades, Persephone, and even Hades' older children—were more involved with their mortal offspring than most gods. They made an effort to care for their children, to protect them as much as possible. But adopting each other's children? Keeping rooms for them in the palace? That was rare. Yet Nico had a room here, a place that was his, where he was always welcome.
Persephone sighed happily, her fingers entwined with Hades'. "He's like the son we never knew we needed," she said softly. "I know he's been through so much, and I know he doesn't always feel like he belongs… but he does. He belongs with us, Hades."
Hades stopped walking, turning to look down at his wife. There was a softness in her eyes that mirrored the warmth in his own heart. "He does," Hades agreed, his voice firm. "Nico is one of us. He always will be."
They stood there for a moment, just holding each other's gaze, a silent understanding passing between them. Nico was theirs, and they would protect him, love him, as fiercely as they would any other member of their family. Because Nico wasn't just special—he was essential, a part of their lives that they couldn't imagine being without.
As they resumed their walk, Hades couldn't help but think of how far they'd come, how much their little family had grown and changed. And as much as he hated the politics and drama of Olympus, he was grateful for moments like these—moments where he could simply walk through the garden with his wife, listen to her laugh, and talk about their son with all the pride and love he felt in his heart.
Nico might have started as just another demigod, but now? Now he was the heart of their family, a piece of the Underworld that was brighter and more precious than any flower in Persephone's garden. And Hades knew, without a doubt, that he would do anything to keep it that way.
Persephone's sigh was anything but peaceful. As it escaped her lips, the vines and flowers around them seemed to react, growing wild and untamed, their leaves trembling with the same agitation that coursed through her. Hades, who had always been attuned to the moods of his wife's garden, could feel the tension radiating from her. It wasn't often that Persephone got truly angry—she was, after all, the embodiment of life and renewal—but when she did, it was a force of nature.
"I still can't believe it," Persephone began, her voice low and simmering with fury. "That arrogant, self-righteous fool. How dare Ares try to kill Nico? Not only did he break every rule in the godly handbook about interfering with another god's trial, but he had the audacity to lay a hand on my son."
Her son. The words were said with such fierce protectiveness that Hades couldn't help but feel a swell of pride. Yes, Nico was his bloodchild, but he was also Persephone's Champion. And when Persephone claimed someone as hers, it was a declaration as strong and unbreakable as the foundations of the Underworld itself. She made sure everyone knew it, too. Every god, every spirit, every creature that roamed the depths of their realm—they all knew that Nico di Angelo was under Persephone's protection. To challenge that was to challenge her, and gods help anyone foolish enough to try.
Hades listened as she ranted, his own anger simmering just beneath the surface. He'd always been protective of Nico, but seeing Persephone this worked up over their son made his dark heart warm. She wasn't just angry; she was livid, and with every word she spoke, Hades could feel the ground beneath them tremble slightly, as if the very Underworld itself shared in her wrath.
"We've played by their rules," Persephone continued, her voice growing stronger, more resolute. "We've found the loopholes, followed their ridiculous guidelines for how much we can interact with our mortal children. But Ares? He doesn't care about rules. He thinks he can do whatever he wants because he's the God of War. But Nico isn't just some demigod. He's ours. And Ares found out what happens when you mess with what's ours."
Hades couldn't agree more. They had, indeed, found plenty of loopholes in the ancient rules governing interactions with their mortal children. The gods liked to keep their distance, maintain a sense of divine superiority, but Hades and Persephone had never really bought into that nonsense. They loved their children, even the mortal ones, and they weren't about to let some outdated rules keep them from being there for them.
One of the most useful loopholes they'd discovered was the "work excuse." Nico, in his role as the Ghost King, received plenty of summons to the Underworld under the guise of official business. In reality, these summons often turned into family dinners, where they could catch up, share a meal, and just be together, no quests, no monsters, no Olympian politics.
Another loophole? Persephone wasn't technically related to Nico by blood, which meant she could spend as much time with him as she liked without anyone raising an eyebrow. It was the same way Hades could spend time with Persephone's mortal children. The gods might have been bound by certain rules, but they weren't above bending them when it suited their needs.
Persephone had taken full advantage of this loophole. She was the one who took Nico shopping, who gossiped with him over tea, who had taught him about gardening in her beautiful, eerie garden in the Underworld. She was the one who sang to him when the nightmares became too much, her voice a soothing balm against the darkness that sometimes overwhelmed him. To Persephone, Nico wasn't just a demigod; he was her child, and she loved him with a fierceness that rivaled even Hades' protective instincts.
So, when Ares, in all his brutish arrogance, had dared to harm Nico, Persephone had snapped. It had been years since she'd let her anger get the better of her like this, but when she did, it was something to behold. Normally, she was careful about how much of her power as Queen of the Underworld she tapped into. She was a goddess of life, of spring, but she was also a goddess of death, and balancing those two sides of herself was no easy feat. But this time? This time, there had been no balance. There had only been rage.
Persephone had dragged Ares to the Underworld herself, and what she did to him there was something that even Hades, the Lord of the Underworld, found terrifyingly impressive. She'd tortured the war god, not with the crude tools of mortal torment, but with the raw, unfiltered power of a goddess scorned. The ichor that had flowed from Ares wasn't just a sign of physical pain; it was a testament to the psychological and spiritual agony she'd inflicted. And the rug—now golden from the godly blood—was a reminder to everyone that Persephone was not to be underestimated.
Hades had never loved her more than he did in that moment. Seeing her so vengeful, so fiercely protective of their son, had reignited the passion he felt for her in a way that caught him off guard. She was beautiful in her wrath, a force of nature that could rival even the most powerful of the Olympians. And she had done it all for Nico, their son, who she loved as if he were her own flesh and blood.
Gently, Hades placed a hand on Persephone's arm, feeling the tension still thrumming beneath her skin. "You made sure Ares paid for it," he reminded her, his voice soothing but laced with a dark satisfaction. "He won't forget what you did to him, and neither will anyone else. You've sent a message, Persephone. Nico is protected. By both of us."
Persephone looked at him, her anger still simmering, but there was a softening in her eyes as she met his gaze. She knew he was right. Ares had been dealt with, and though the satisfaction of seeing him suffer hadn't entirely quelled her anger, it had helped. "I know," she murmured, leaning into Hades' touch. "But it still infuriates me that he ever thought he could get away with it. Nico is ours, Hades. He's my son, too. And no one—god or mortal—hurts my son and walks away unscathed."
Hades couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips. "And that's why I love you," he said, his voice warm. "You're as fierce as any warrior, Persephone. And you've shown everyone that you're not just the Goddess of Spring. You're the Queen of the Underworld, and you'll defend what's yours with everything you have."
Persephone's lips curved into a small smile, and she reached up to brush her fingers along Hades' cheek. "I suppose I do have a reputation to uphold," she teased lightly, though the fire in her eyes hadn't completely dimmed. "But still I need to make sure Nico is protected."
Hades knew better than to argue with Persephone when she was in full-on protective mode. It was like trying to stop the tide with a broom—pointless and exhausting. But he also knew that if they didn't have this conversation now, things could get complicated. And if there was one thing Hades disliked more than meddling gods, it was complications that could have been avoided with a little foresight.
So, as they continued their stroll through the garden, Hades took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. "Persephone, you know I would never protest your protectiveness over Nico. He's our son, and no one has the right to challenge that. But…" He paused, glancing at her to gauge her reaction. She was still pouting, her bottom lip jutting out in that way that always made him want to give in to whatever she wanted. But this time, he couldn't.
"But?" Persephone echoed, her tone slightly wary.
"But," Hades continued, "with classes ending and the new summer about to start, we need to be realistic. You're planning on dragging Nico down to the Underworld for the whole season, and as much as I'd love to have him here, it can't happen."
Persephone's pout deepened, her eyes narrowing in a way that made the shadows around them seem to darken. "Why not? He's safer here with us. You said it yourself—he's our son. Don't you want to keep him safe?"
"Of course I do," Hades replied, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "But he has responsibilities, Persephone. He's not just our son; he's Pluto's Ambassador to Camp Jupiter. He spent most of the year in New York at Elysium Prep, and now he needs to fulfill his duties in the Roman camp. We can't just keep him here because we want to protect him."
Persephone crossed her arms, her body flickering between her Greek and Roman forms, before settling in her original body. Her eyes still flashing with that dangerous protectiveness. "I just don't see why he has to be away from us for so long. What if something happens? We can't protect him if he's not here."
Hades sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "I know, my love. But you also know how the other gods are, especially Hera. She's been on my case lately about how Nico needs to divide his time equally between the Greek and Roman camps. He's supposed to be the bridge between the two, after all. If he doesn't spend enough time at Camp Jupiter, it'll cause problems we don't need."
Persephone's pout finally began to soften, but it was replaced by a sly grin as she let out a soft giggle. "Hera doesn't care about bridging any gaps. She just doesn't want Nico spending more time with Percy than with Jason. We both know she's still sore about the whole Zeus-Poseidon rivalry, and now she's trying to meddle in Nico's life. And don't get me started on Aphrodite—those two are still fighting over who Nico should end up with. It's ridiculous."
Hades couldn't help but roll his eyes at that. "You're telling me. Hera's all about family pride, and Aphrodite's only concerned with her own idea of 'true love.' I swear, sometimes it feels like our family is filled with matchmaking goddesses more interested in playing cupid than focusing on their actual domains."
Persephone smirked, leaning into Hades' side as they walked. "I think it's adorable. They're all so convinced that they know what's best for Nico, but honestly, they're both silly. It's obvious to anyone with eyes that Nico should have both of them."
Hades nearly choked on his own laughter at that. "Both of them? Percy and Jason? You can't be serious."
Persephone's eyes twinkled with mischief. "Why not? It's not like the gods have ever been known for their monogamy. And think about it, Hades—Nico's been through so much. Doesn't he deserve to be happy? Why should he have to choose between the two people who care about him most? They both love him in their own way, and Nico deserves all the love he can get."
Hades groaned, rubbing his temples as if that would somehow ward off the impending headache. "Great. Just what I need—one of my idiotic brother's sons as a potential future son-in-law. As if dealing with Zeus and Poseidon on a daily basis isn't bad enough, now I have to think about adding their offspring to the royal family of the Underworld."
Persephone laughed, the sound rich and melodious, cutting through the gloom of the Underworld like a ray of sunlight. "Oh, Hades, don't be so dramatic. You love Nico, and you know you'd accept whoever makes him happy. Even if it does mean we'll have to endure more Olympian family gatherings."
Hades grumbled, though there was no real venom behind it. "It's bad enough dealing with their nonsense from a distance. The last thing I want is to have their legacies entrenched in our family. But…" He sighed, giving in to the inevitable. "You're right, of course. If Percy or Jason—or both of them—make Nico happy, then I suppose I can tolerate their presence. But I reserve the right to make their lives difficult if they ever hurt him."
Persephone's eyes sparkled with approval. "That's the spirit. And honestly, Hades, I think you'll find that Percy and Jason are much easier to handle than their fathers. Besides, you know Nico—he wouldn't put up with anyone who didn't respect him."
Hades nodded, knowing she was right. Nico had grown into a formidable young boy, capable of handling himself in ways that made Hades both proud and a little sad. Proud because Nico was strong, resilient, and wise beyond his years; sad because those traits had been forged through pain and hardship. But more than anything, Hades was determined to ensure that Nico would find peace and happiness, even if it meant tolerating a few extra demigods in their lives.
And as much as Hades dreaded the idea of having to deal with more Olympians, he knew that as long as Nico was happy, it was worth it. Even if that happiness meant dealing with Percy Jackson and Jason Grace more often than he ever wanted to. Hades might have been the Lord of the Underworld, but when it came to his family, there was nothing he wouldn't endure to see them safe and content.
Persephone must have sensed his thoughts because she gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "We'll figure it out, Hades. We always do."
He looked down at her, his expression softening as he leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead. "Yes, we will. But just so you know, if I have to listen to one more lecture from Hera about 'balancing responsibilities,' I'm going to start turning people into shades."
Persephone laughed again, a sound that never failed to lift his spirits. "I'm sure Nico would help you with that. But in the meantime, let's focus on what we can control—like making sure our son knows he's loved, no matter where he is."
Hades smiled, feeling the last of his tension melt away. "Agreed. And maybe, just maybe, we can survive another summer without too much drama."
Persephone grinned, a wicked gleam in her eyes. "Well, we can always hope. But if things do get out of hand, I'm more than ready to remind everyone why they shouldn't mess with our family."
Hades chuckled, knowing that was a promise she would definitely keep. "I have no doubt about that, my love. No doubt at all."