For @messageforyou

[refusetofight]

Achilles arrives at the Temple of Styx well before the appointed time. This is equal parts because it’s so difficult to judge time in the Underworld and because he’s determined not to be late to one of the most important meetings of his afterlife. … Or his life for that matter.

He approaches the edge of the Underworld—as close as he can before he begins to feel the insistent tug on his shade. By now, he’s discovered the exact stones that mark the border—unassuming at a glance, but should he step past, he knows he’ll feel the pull, like a strong ocean current willing him back to the depths.

So he stands just clear of this invisible delineation, hands clasped behind his back, and gazes past to what little he can glimpse of the surface. The slash of sun is too bright for his eyes, accustomed as they are to Ixion’s lesser light. The wind shifts, and he breathes in the pungent smell of growth, the distant tang of the Aegean Sea.

It brings to mind what Hermes said about Lyra’s birth: she was formed in the ocean. Was she tucked away in the midnight depths? Swaddled safe in a forest of kelp? Or floating free in the tides, pushed and pulled in meandering currents until she was finally washed upon the shore?

He wishes he could have been there to receive her that day—to lift her from the surf and sand, as small and precious as the beach’s scattered shells and wet, jewel-bright stones. Achilles entertains himself this way: imagining her early days, her first steps, her child’s adventures, her clever eyes examining each new thing the world offers.

Each shifting shadow, each rustle past the temple’s gate stirs a fresh flutter in his chest. It’s not long before his impatience and eagerness is fit to rival Hermes’. He periodically paces to the opposite side of the gate, as if it might provide a better vantage to spot her approach.

Comments

[refusetofight]

“We should tell Lord Hades ourselves. About us, in any case,” Achilles says with a decisive abruptness. “Far better to hear it from us than second hand from Lord Poseidon.”

And Achilles can see Hades being exceptionally cross if he learns that everyone else knew about this before he did. This information would undermine his sense of order and control over his realm and subjects.

He hums, conflicted, and rests his head against Hermes’. “Lyra, though. I’m not certain.”

Shades becoming romantically entangled with gods is one thing, but shades having children is so far beyond the natural order, he’s not sure what Hades might do in response.

[messageforyou]

Hermes grimaces, but he can’t argue with the logic. As unpleasant as the thought of confessing to Hades is, it’d be much worse for him to find out that all of Olympus knew before him and hearing it from his brother.

“If we confess the affair, we ought to confess to Lyra too. I doubt the gossip will escape him for long, and I also doubt that she’ll respect the borders of the Underworld as much as she should.” She reminds him of himself when he was young, and he didn’t exactly do as told all the time when adults wanted him to. “I think it’d help to know that it was the earth that saw fit to form a child and not something I set out to do, but not by much.”

Hermes still intends to gloss over the part where he stole a shade from the underworld for a romantic ocean date, but it’ll be hard to hide an entire child from his uncle.

“I know he won’t be happy about it, but will he be angry enough to do something other than yell?” Hermes squeezes Achilles’ hand, frowning in thought. He knows that if his uncle is in a rational state of mind, he’d know that this affair isn’t worth retaliating against his quickest psychopomp and loyal advocate for the Underworld in Olympus. Hermes did, after all, keep the secret of Persephone’s marriage and then subsequent departure from the Underworld from Demeter at great personal risk, and averted war in doing so. He’s proven his loyalty.

But Hades is prideful just as his brothers are, and he’s prone to thinking the worst of people, especially children of Zeus. Hermes isn’t sure that Hades might be offended enough by the disrespect to retaliate against his better judgment.

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“He might reinforce the realm’s boundaries against Lyra. Or forbid me from visiting her entirely.” If Hades was a mortal lord, Achilles would easily subvert his will, but Hades is the son of Titans and has the power to bind his shade in any number of ways.

Yes, he does have allies in Zagreus, Nyx, and others in the House, but he’s not keen on dragging them into his affairs, or causing strife in his Master’s realm. Achilles prefers to fight his own battles.

He rubs the coarse pads of his fingers over Hermes’ hands. Maybe the god of diplomacy has some leverage? “Do you believe this is something you can negotiate?”

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Hermes guns softly, closing his eyes. His pupils dart under the lids as he thinks, laying out what he knows of his uncle, what he knows of his leverage, what he knows of their shared history.

His uncle doesn’t respond well to arrogant grandstanding, or threats, or confrontation. His uncle is a hard shell of a man, most at home when standing against resistance.

What few people give him credit for is that he’s fair-minded. Rules matter to him, but so does honoring debt and reciprocating kindness in kind. Maybe if Hermes leads with that…

“I have served the Underworld faithfully since I was a child. I’ve never asked for anything in return—not recognition, not a place in the House, not protection, not the resurrection of beloved mortals, not boons.” Not even protection from his father, though he suspects that Hades was at least somewhat aware of what Zeus’ children suffered. “This is the only thing I would have ever asked of him for myself. The only repayment for thousands of years of service.”

Hermes wants Achilles to know his daughter, and for Lyra to know him. That’s what Hermes asks of Hades. And he knows intimately that Hades has given more for much less.

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Achilles knows his master decently well. He’s not unreasonable—he’s not Zeus—but he still has a tendency to be inflexible. The certainty and permanence of death, Achilles understands, needs to be rigidly guarded. Few gods would be suited to such a task.

But Achilles dares to hope Hermes is right. He’s delivered shades with utmost efficiency and honored his uncle’s privacy. Not to mention he thwarted Ares’ assault on the Underworld.

“Mmm. He might see reason in that, if we approach at the right time and with proper deference.” He lightly trails his fingers up and down Hermes’ forearms. “The House is nearly mended, and the backlog of shades is much reduced. His mood should be vastly improved.”

[messageforyou]

A part of Hermes is afraid. Afraid that Hades isn't so different from his brother, and like Zeus, will take Hermes for granted and toss him aside when he dares to ask for something for himself. He's afraid that Hades will hold Hermes' happiness in the same low regard, and only ever care about what Hermes does.

But if he wants to be given the benefit of the doubt, he should give the benefit of the doubt to Hades, too. And if there's any hope in guaranteeing Achilles' ability to see Lyra for her whole living life, it's in negotiating with Hades before he learns of her through the grapevine.

"I'll finish off the backlog," Hermes says, cupping Achilles' face in his hands before planting a slow, savoring kiss to his mouth. "Then I'll talk to my uncle. And whatever he says, we'll figure something out, okay? You'll still know her."

Even if, worst case scenario, Achilles is forbidden from ever speaking to her... well, Hermes is really good at smuggling letters. It's his thing. They'll figure something out.

[refusetofight]

Achilles bobs into the kiss with a pleased hum. “That’s a fine idea, love. Take some extra time to help him with his work. Progress and efficiency always puts Hades in a more receptive mood. Relatively speaking.”

And if that doesn’t work? Maybe it’s time to call in favors. Achilles tips his head and lowers his voice to whisper conspiratorially in Hermes’ ear. “All else fails, Lady Nyx might assist us. Her veil of darkness hides many things from Lord Hades’ sight.”

Mother Night has her own claim to the realm, and importantly, she and Achilles partnered well in reuniting Zagreus with his mother. Nyx might be sympathetic to Achilles’ plight with his own child.

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Hermes scrunches his nose with his smile, squeezing Achilles affectionately. “I’m rubbing off on you, darling. Favors owed are for exactly these sorts of situations.”

And Hermes can conceivably ask Charon for his own help. Charon is a force unto himself in the Underworld, working tirelessly without instruction and largely independent of the House. There are strings he can pull, and he’ll pull them if Hermes asks, even on behalf of another lover.

“Hades is the lord of this realm, but he’s not its most powerful force, and he knows it.” The fact that Elysium itself accepted Lyra gladly is a sure sign that the Underworld itself likes her company. That holds its own sway. “I’ll do my best to negotiate with him. But some tricks and strings pulled are excellent backup options.”

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“You’ve taught me well,” Achilles laughs, relieved. It will be good to finally come clean with Hades, all the better with backup plans in place.

“We have much to do, don’t we?” He runs down the mental list so far: speak with both of their mothers, Medea, Hades … and Achilles still needs to work through problems with Patroclus. It’s good to be busy, though, particularly when it’s for the benefit of his child.

His eyes wander over the krater of wine, realizes it’s still mostly full and he clucks his tongue. “We’ve spent far too much time discussing responsibilities and too little celebrating. Look—we’ve barely touched the wine. Your brother would be sorely disappointed.”

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Hermes laughs, nose scrunching. "You're right, he would be. Nothing makes him sadder than a wasted chance to drink." He winks before draining his cup, pressing a wine-soaked kiss to Achilles' lips.

"We have a plan. We'll get to it tomorrow." Hermes reaches for Achilles' set aside cup, refilling it before offering it to his lover. "Tonight, we celebrate. We have a clever, brave daughter, and now we can get to know her."

And they have this daughter with someone they love. Not everyone can say such in Greece. Not everyone can say such in Olympus, really. But they can say it this time.

[refusetofight]

Achilles takes the offered cup and quaffs it, throat bobbing. He quickly realizes that this wine is heady enough to make even a sturdy hero’s shade tipsy. Hermes really got the good stuff.

Now Dionysus would be very pleased.

“Tomorrow,” Achilles agrees, rocking into Hermes to pepper kisses along his jaw and neck. It’s not often that he defers responsibilities, but this is a special occasion.

He sighs and dances his fingers over the curve of Hermes’ wing, warm and soft. “I love you, magpie, and I love our unexpected little fledgling.”

[messageforyou]

Hermes giggles as Achilles' lips tickle his neck, turning his head to give Achilles more room to kiss. He stretches his wing into Achilles' hand, toying with Achilles' belt. "I love you too, darling. And I'm excited for this fledgling. I think fatherhood might be a fun adventure."

Hermes isn't one to throw around the word 'love' lightly--it took Achilles defying his father on his behalf three times before he was willing to say it out loud, and he's only really talked to Lyra once--but it's already big for him to be excited about her instead of just anxious and dreading any attempt at being her father.

"And I'm excited to go on this adventure with you." For all the complications with Hades and Medea and Apollo and Patroclus, Hermes is still happy that of all people to share this scary and exciting experience with, he gets to do it with the man that makes him feel so courageous.

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The hesitance to say love doesn’t escape Achilles’ notice, but it doesn’t bother him, either. Hermes loves at his own speed, and he’s come a long way since his previous panic. Excitement will do just fine.

Achilles sighs contentedly, warmed by the buzz of wine suffusing his shade. He splays his fingers across Hermes’ stretched wing, still every bit as lovely as when he first laid eyes on them.

“Of all our adventures—” Defying Zeus, delving into dreams, battling Ares … “—this promises to be the best yet.”