Greek Pantheon fic
Jun. 26th, 2011 04:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
changeyourstars8Death Doesn't Take a Holiday
Characters: Hades, Hermes
The prelude to a famous meeting. . .
Jeffrey Dean Morgan as Hades
Alan Tudyk as Hermes
She lay in the bed, pale, unmoving except for the occasional twitch of her eyelids. He remembered her when she was young. Beautiful, long dark hair up in an unruly bun as she stretched out on the grass, absently nibbling at the end of a pencil as she studied a book. Their time together had been short-- seemed shorter to him than to her, Hades knew, given that she'd only had eighty-six years and he'd been around many hundreds of times that-- but it had been good, and now she was here.
He heard a low humming sound, the blur of wings that always accompanied Hermes' arrival catching the edge of his vision. He didn't turn to look.
Beth opened her eyes, large and brown like he remembered and for an instant she seemed to remember *him*; and then her gaze lost focus and she disappeared back into the monitors and bedpan and the thousand other well-meaning humiliations that came with this stage of mortal life.
"Sure you don't want me to handle this?" Hermes asked quietly.
"I'm sure," Hades said, still not looking at him. Gathering mortal souls was a full-time job; Hermes had to be in so many places at once that his form was always out of focus. It made his head hurt.
"You can't keep doing this to yourself, you know. You really should--"
"What? Act more like Zeus?" He wasn't sure if his brother ever remembered the name of a woman he'd been with after the sex was over. Demigod children were all over the place thanks to him, and sometimes the other Deities had no idea until Atropos didn't cut their life thread for decades after a regular mortal would've died. Would've gone through this.
"Hey now, one of him is enough," Hermes said cheerfully. "I just mean you can't always take this so seriously. They're mortal. They die. It's what they do."
Ignoring the younger God, Hades took her hand. "Goodnight," he told her quietly, and then he stopped holding back, stopped focusing his energy on keeping a safe mortal form for her sake, and what he truly was seeped into her.
Living in the realm of the dead for so long had poisoned him, put death so deeply into him he doubted that it would ever be gone. As soon as he let go of the facade that let him move among the living, her last breath left her body.
"Let me do you a favor," Hermes said a moment later. He'd moved over to stand next to the window, his gaze fixed on a point in the distance. "Let me take her down. All right? You just go talk to someone who isn't a creepy shade."
He cleared his throat and looked away from Beth's body. "I talk to you all the time."
"Yeah, well, I'm not always going to be around."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Means I'm thinking of taking a vacation. This stuff's too heavy to do all the time. And if *I* need a break, then I know you do." He nodded toward the window. "Go talk to her for a while. Get some sun for once. I'll take good care of Beth."
Curious despite himself, Hades got up from Beth's deathbed and moved to the window. The field across from the hospital was dotted heavily with Demeter's spring flowers. Her daughter, Persephone, was wandering among them, gathering a few. Probably at Hestia's request; as soon as spring began the Goddess of the Hearth became obsessed with bouquets.
Through the cold, clear glass was normalcy, something the other Gods up on Olympus took for granted every single day, sunshine and warmth, the companionship of someone who was alive and smiling instead of drifting and pale.
And suddenly Hermes's advice was ringing in his ears and he more than wanted a peaceful conversation in the spring air, he *needed* to see her, talk to her, and part of his mind tried to remind him that he'd maybe spoken five words to her in the past hundred or so years but it didn't seem to matter, suddenly he was heading down the stairs, toward the main doors.
He may have heard a quiet chuckle as he left Beth's room. He paid it no mind.
This entry was originally posted at http://changeyourstars8.dreamwidth.org/350177.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
Characters: Hades, Hermes
The prelude to a famous meeting. . .
Jeffrey Dean Morgan as Hades
Alan Tudyk as Hermes
She lay in the bed, pale, unmoving except for the occasional twitch of her eyelids. He remembered her when she was young. Beautiful, long dark hair up in an unruly bun as she stretched out on the grass, absently nibbling at the end of a pencil as she studied a book. Their time together had been short-- seemed shorter to him than to her, Hades knew, given that she'd only had eighty-six years and he'd been around many hundreds of times that-- but it had been good, and now she was here.
He heard a low humming sound, the blur of wings that always accompanied Hermes' arrival catching the edge of his vision. He didn't turn to look.
Beth opened her eyes, large and brown like he remembered and for an instant she seemed to remember *him*; and then her gaze lost focus and she disappeared back into the monitors and bedpan and the thousand other well-meaning humiliations that came with this stage of mortal life.
"Sure you don't want me to handle this?" Hermes asked quietly.
"I'm sure," Hades said, still not looking at him. Gathering mortal souls was a full-time job; Hermes had to be in so many places at once that his form was always out of focus. It made his head hurt.
"You can't keep doing this to yourself, you know. You really should--"
"What? Act more like Zeus?" He wasn't sure if his brother ever remembered the name of a woman he'd been with after the sex was over. Demigod children were all over the place thanks to him, and sometimes the other Deities had no idea until Atropos didn't cut their life thread for decades after a regular mortal would've died. Would've gone through this.
"Hey now, one of him is enough," Hermes said cheerfully. "I just mean you can't always take this so seriously. They're mortal. They die. It's what they do."
Ignoring the younger God, Hades took her hand. "Goodnight," he told her quietly, and then he stopped holding back, stopped focusing his energy on keeping a safe mortal form for her sake, and what he truly was seeped into her.
Living in the realm of the dead for so long had poisoned him, put death so deeply into him he doubted that it would ever be gone. As soon as he let go of the facade that let him move among the living, her last breath left her body.
"Let me do you a favor," Hermes said a moment later. He'd moved over to stand next to the window, his gaze fixed on a point in the distance. "Let me take her down. All right? You just go talk to someone who isn't a creepy shade."
He cleared his throat and looked away from Beth's body. "I talk to you all the time."
"Yeah, well, I'm not always going to be around."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Means I'm thinking of taking a vacation. This stuff's too heavy to do all the time. And if *I* need a break, then I know you do." He nodded toward the window. "Go talk to her for a while. Get some sun for once. I'll take good care of Beth."
Curious despite himself, Hades got up from Beth's deathbed and moved to the window. The field across from the hospital was dotted heavily with Demeter's spring flowers. Her daughter, Persephone, was wandering among them, gathering a few. Probably at Hestia's request; as soon as spring began the Goddess of the Hearth became obsessed with bouquets.
Through the cold, clear glass was normalcy, something the other Gods up on Olympus took for granted every single day, sunshine and warmth, the companionship of someone who was alive and smiling instead of drifting and pale.
And suddenly Hermes's advice was ringing in his ears and he more than wanted a peaceful conversation in the spring air, he *needed* to see her, talk to her, and part of his mind tried to remind him that he'd maybe spoken five words to her in the past hundred or so years but it didn't seem to matter, suddenly he was heading down the stairs, toward the main doors.
He may have heard a quiet chuckle as he left Beth's room. He paid it no mind.
This entry was originally posted at http://changeyourstars8.dreamwidth.org/350177.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-06-26 10:20 pm (UTC)I LOOOOVE Alan Tudyk as Hermes! And the detail that he's never quite in focus because he moves so much.
And the mention that Hestia became obsessed with bouquets once spring arrives.
OH OH OH I LOVED THIS.
no subject
Date: 2011-06-26 10:35 pm (UTC)HERMES IS TOTALLY THE "I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT YOU SHOULD DO" ADVICE-GIVING GUY WHOSE OWN LIFE IS A CONSTANT MESS. SOME OF THE OTHERS WOULD GIVE HIM AN INTERVENTION IF HE'D HOLD STILL LONG ENOUGH.