#orpheus finally being able to accept that eurydice is gone

[captain-shortyyy]

Why Orpheus turned around

Something i’ve been seeing lately is people saying that because Orpheus turned around to Eurydice, that means he doesn’t love her. And that, my friends, is WRONG! The reason Orpheus turns around is BECAUSE HE LOVES HER!

When looking at the tragedy of Orpheus and Eurydice in general some things never change:

Eurydice dies and goes to the Underworld

Orpheus goes to the Underworld to convince Hades (sometimes named Pluto in certain adaptations) to bring Eurydice back to life

Hades decides to fulfill his request but on the condition that Orpheus walks in front of Eurydice and does not turn around

when Orpheus and Eurydice are so close to being free, Orpheus turns around and Eurydice is sent back to the Underworld.

The reason Orpheus turns around varies from adaptations.

For example one adaptation describes Hades telling Orpheus not to turn around until the sun fully hits his face. When getting back to the Earth with Eurydice, Orpheus notes how the sun has not risen yet, then he hears Eurydice trip behind him. Without thinking he turns around and catches her in his arms. He sees Eurydice’s face in the light of the stars, then she fades back into the Underworld. This is one of the most basic of examples of how much Orpheus loves Eurydice. His first instinct when hearing her fall was to catch her, unintentionally disregarding the rules set in place by Hades to make sure his lover is okay.

Another adaptation begins the same way, however this time Hades tells Orpheus not to turn around until they are both fully out of the Underworld. Orpheus cannot hear Eurydice or feel her behind him at all in this version. Orpheus is so anxious he is walking back alone and abandoning Eurydice that once he exits the Underworld, he turns around, and sees Eurydice still in the Underworld about to cross. Like the last tale, she returns to the Underworld. He loves her so much that as soon as he is able to turn around he does so just to see if she is there, but when he does he loses Eurydice again.

A more modern version of the tragedy is the musical Hadestown, the era of this retelling is based on the Great Depression, which changes the way the characters and their motives are presented. In this version Orpheus and Eurydice still fall in love but Orpheus blinded by his determination to finish his song, which will bring back Spring, that he fails to notice Eurydice calling for him to help her. Hades finds her and offers her a chance to work in the Underworld/Hadestown. Eurydice, seeing no other way to escape the poverty she’s in, accepts and signs a contract giving herself over to Hades to work. When Eurydice sees Hadestown she begins to regret her choice. Orpheus, finally noticing Eurydice is gone, travels to Hadestown to find her and bring her home. Upon his arrival he pleads with Hades and Persephone to let him bring Eurydice home. Hades refuses, sending his workers to attack Orpheus and send him back. Orpheus won’t go though, instead he unites Hades’s workers to revolt. Hades, with persuasion from Persephone, gives Orpheus one more chance to convince him. Orpheus then plays his finished song for Hades, it’s a song Hades used to sing to Persephone to express his love for her. Hades, moved by his song, dances with Persephone. Orpheus then asks Hades if they can go and Hades says “I don’t know”. The Three Fates then express Hades’s worries, if he doesn’t let them go he is cruel and unjust, but if he does let them go his workers will view him as “spineless” and lose respect. With this in mind Hades comes up with a solution, where they can go but one condition; Orpheus must walk in front and Eurydice must walk behind him. If they make it back home without Orpheus turning around Eurydice is free, if not she goes back to Hadestown. Orpheus expresses his fears of this condition, afraid this is a trick. They begin to leave. While Orpheus trusts Eurydice to be there, he cannot trust himself. He begins to believe he is alone and was tricked by Hades. It’s this doubt and anxiety that makes him turn around too soon. While Orpheus makes it out of Hadestown, Eurydice is still a step away. So they fail.

Orpheus loves Eurydice so much he turns around to guarantee she’s really there and that he wasn’t tricked, but this was their downfall.

In all these adaptations Orpheus is so in love with Eurydice that he disregards the conditions set by Hades. He turns around because he is anxious she isn’t there with him. He turns around because he is worried about her. He turns around because he loves her too much to risk her never coming home. That is why he turns around too soon or to see her face or just to catch her when she falls. It’s all because of the love they have for each other.

[procyon-kiryu-heaven]

Welcome to my only entry for Jasicoweek. I would have liked to participate in everything but there have been events in my life that have made this week tumultuous.

Well, enjoy. For this fic I use the prompts from Day 5: Canon fix + Alt. Prompt 1 Song/Lyrics

Nico explored the myths and legends. He read and asked. To the living and to the dead.

The deal seems simple. Nico went down to the underworld, sang before Hades, took Jason and brought him back to life.

It wasn't like that.

The final deal took months to seal. Because Nico was determined and Hades knew it. He knew that, unlike Orpheus, he would make it.

There were many obstacles for the son of the dead.

-The most basic and first was the obvious. Nico looked back before reaching his destination and Jason was not reborn.

-He had to go barefoot all the way back, without being able to heal at any time. No chance of divine or magical healing once he had completed his mission.

-He had to do it on the spring solstice, when Hades was alone. He wouldn't let his wife soften him up.

-He had to sing himself but he couldn't bring any musical instrument or anything that made music.

Nico thinked with fear in the latter. He didn't have a bad voice but only with his voice... He don't think he could make it. He supposed that he would have to sing acapella and pray that his father would get his feelings. Pray to whom? Definitely not Aphrodite or Cupid.

And Apollo was missing.

Fuck.

Nico accepted everything and signed a contract for the river Styx.

The ink looks like blood.

Spring solstice.

Nico had the guarantee dry and in a knot. He couldn't speak. Less sing.

He got to the point from where he have to go down to the Underworld. And there was a ghost. He was tall, with curly hair, dressed in a toga and carried a lyre in his hands.

Nico was surprised to see him but he immediately knew who he was.

Orpheus.

Nico looked at him blankly. He smiled and played his lyre. The living one understood.

He had music.

His father's throne room seemed darker, but oddly enough, it gave an aura of hope to it.

Hades looked with something between tiredness, sorrow and resignation at the duo that appeared before him.

Orpheus played.

Nico sang.

Nico's voice echoed through the room.

He echoed in the Underworld.

Ghosts from all sides, of all ages, conditions, and types appeared in the throne room.

Singing the choruses.

Nico had his gaze focused on his father but Orpheus saw them.

There, in the distance, were his dear Eurydice and Jason.

When Nico turned and started walking, followed by Jason, Orpheus knew the boy was going to make it.

Good for them.

[fallenlightsif]

The ROs as Orpheus in the Orpheus/Eurydice ask that's been going around??

Florian - He can't look back.

He can't look back, that's the only thing he knows.

He's lost too much, and he cannot lose you again.

Yet still...he can't see you, he can't hear you, how does he know you're there? What if this is all a cruel ruse played by a bored God in need of entertainment?

The doubts linger, but what does he have to lose if he makes it to the exit? Nothing. Else, what does he have to lose but everything should he turn and see you waiting to disappear?

So he forces his feet onward, nearly running as he sees the light peak beyond the exit of the Underworld. He feels the warmth of the sun on his skin once more but he still cannot bring himself to turn around.

He remains turned away until your hands, blessedly solid, fold him into an embrace.

Marcella - She made a mistake.

She had grown overeager. She saw the light of the finish line, passed her foot over the exit, and spun around to wrap you in an embrace of celebration.

Your face, which she saw for a fleeting second, was still shrouded in the shadow of death. You held your hand out, reaching for her desperately, and she tries to draw you into the light.

You are gone in moments and just like that, her world has ended. It's unfair, she cries, she did as they asked. She made it to end with you. Why is that not enough?

Why does life do nothing but take and never give anything in return?

E - They didn't believe you were there.

It was foolish. Who are they to question a deity, a God? Yet still, curiosity turned to doubt lingers, and they suffer from the thoughts with every step they take.

It's too much, not knowing if you're there with them. They speak but you cannot respond. The doubt grows until-

They break. Their head starts the motion that they do not stop, refuse to stop, even when their heart fills with dread at your sad expression of acceptance.

They try to memorize everything about you in moments, but they fail once again. They are left, alone, surrounded by hollow souls.

They wonder if maybe they belong here with you.

Dimitri - He knew he was cursed.

He knew how this would end before it had even begun. Step after step in the dark, blocking out the horrors of the Underworld around him, drifting through the masses of desolate souls-

Were you even there?

He couldn't hear you. He couldn't hear anything beyond the pounding of his heart.

He kept talking but got no response, straining his ears for even footsteps as proof. Finally, he began to think that you were never behind him to begin with. The Gods had wreaked havoc in his life before, what was once more?

He turned his head, catching your shocked expression. You disappeared, and he collapsed with you.

Maybe he wouldn't make it back to the surface.

Maybe his curse was over.

Ari - She had grown too comfortable.

Talking was what she always did when she was in uncomfortable situations. This definitely qualified as an uncomfortable situation. So she just kept talking and talking, idle chatter about the temple and all the kids and what Anais had been up to.

She made a crack at Dimitri's expense, and those jokes always made you laugh. She loved your smile.

So she turned-

And realized what she'd done the same moment you had. At least you'd been smiling as she caught her last sight of you.

There was nothing else to do but move forward. Carry your spirit with her even if you remained in the Underworld. She hardly believed the world could be as bright as it would've been with you in it but still...

She had to try.

Rowan - It wasn't a concern.

They weren't worried about this challenge set forth by the Gods. They had been through worse, and so had you. This was merely another bump in the road.

Being able to focus single-mindedly had always been a talent of theirs. Time blurs and their footsteps echoed together in their ears, but they didn't doubt you'd be behind them for a second.

They held no trust in the Gods, but you would defy the divine for them, this much they're certain of.

So they stepped into broad daylight, returned to the world of the living, and turned to reel you tightly into their chest. You were there, smiling.

They never doubted you, and you never doubted them. Now you're back where you belong, and they're back where they belong. Warm and in each other's arms, safe and whole.

Orion - He couldn't overcome his past.

Being alone was second nature to him; he should be used to it now. It felt...different. Now. Without you.

Well, you were there. He just couldn't see you.

He keeps his eyes down, trying to avoid looking at both you and any spirits that linger around. He fears seeing a familiar face.

How many souls had he condemned to this hellscape? Would he be another one, screaming and suffering, one day?

Surely you should be in paradise. Not with him.

His eyes trail up and find the empty gaze of man across the fields and his breath catches and-

He turns to his safety. To his home. To you.

He realizes the mistake too late and ends up on his knees, gasping for air even as you disappear. A failure in more ways than one.

Still, he couldn't leave you alone. Even if he was to be condemned to the pits while you lounged in bliss, he would remain with you. At your side, forever.

A loyal knight, the Queen had mockingly called him. She was right.

Cier - He knew what had to be done.

It wasn't a question of if, it was a question of how. He was going to save you one way or another, even at the cost of his life or someone else's. To have a solution handed to him like this on a silver platter? It was better than anything he could've dreamed of.

Perhaps the Gods intended it to be a challenge. Perhaps they'd never met a half-elf quite as stubborn as he.

See, Cier was used to getting what he wanted and even better at blowing off anything remotely serious. He never thought he'd be bluffing and joking himself through a sea of dead souls, but here he was.

Hopefully, his monologue was as entertaining to you as it was to him.

It must've been since you didn't seem too angry. After he was certain he cleared the exit and you had done the same, he caught you mid-jump in his arms and you both tumbled to the ground. He might've been crying; he honestly couldn't be certain.

Kira - She would fight Death herself for you.

Semi-immortal beings such as elves tended to know better than meddle in the games of Gods. She, however, was her mother's daughter; she didn't stop beating on Death's door until you were allowed free.

All she had to do was not look at you until you were both gone? A bit unpleasant as she was very fond of your face, but she'd have the rest of your lifetimes to admire you once you'd both escaped.

The journey was a blur; plotting revenge against your would-be killer took up most of her thoughts, leaving her fairly occupied. Still, you both reached the surface eventually, sunlight warming her frozen form from the shadows of the Underworld.

You were in her arms in seconds. You melted against her, life in your lungs and chest once more, and she'd never heard a sound more beautiful than the beat of your heart.

Ilaria - She thought she trusted you.

Maybe her mother was right. Maybe she was destined to ruin every good thing she managed to find.

She told you she trusted you and it was true.

It was.

Still, she held no trust or love for the Gods. Maybe she wanted to spite their tricks before she was fooled? Maybe she wanted to save herself the crushing disappointment later?

The horrified betrayal on your face is a look she'll never forget.

It wasn't a trick, it wasn't a ruse. Now you were gone for good. It was unacceptable, but what other choice did she have?

She'd just have to live with the fact that her wretch of a mother was right. She was a fire, she burned everything she touched. She didn't deserve you and look where trying to earn you had gotten the both of you.

[elencelebrindal]

Honest Opinion - Hades

I’ve been dreading this day. Buckle up, I have some pretty angry things to say about him. I love you, Hades, but you done messed up.

Overall score (character not looks): - My personal liking: 10/10 - How he acted as a deity: what the hell are you doing/10 or 5/10 - More on this in the comparison with mythology

Hades.  This fearsome deity that terrified the entire world and is the bane of every Saint in existence.  This deity that, in his own series, appeared for maybe 15 minutes in total. 

I’m mad about various things.  Now, first of all, I want you to know that I absolutely love Hades. He’s my favorite character of this entire franchise, my favorite deity, my favorite everything. This cannot be denied.  BUT Hades was definitely not good enough in this series. And I’m not talking about his short time on screen. That’s just one reason of my anger. 

Let’s go in order.

Hades first appeared, more as a starting point for the series, at the very beginning, as a voice in Athena’s dream. Say what you want, that was him telling his arch-nemesis to fear his return.  Which... was a terrible move.  I get that you deities love drama, but shut up about your plans and leave Athena with her doubts. No way Athena dreamed that as a premonition, after all.  But I’m not here to talk about these trivial things. 

Let’s talk about Hades possessing Shun’s body. I already covered this particular thing in Shun’s post, so I’ll just say a couple things: I think Hades should have used his time in Shun’s body in a more efficient way.  Rather than waiting around and trying to get Shaka to kill Athena, for example, he should have just... I don’t know, kicked the goddess in the shins and killed her himself.  By doing what he did, for the drama basically, Hades gave Athena an advantage and ended up not only losing his host, but having to use his real body - which was hidden away - to fight a war he could have easily won. 

This is a huge point against him. Not only that, but he wasn’t able to get rid of Ikki. Dude, I get it. Ikki is supposed to be the Phoenix, an immortal bird that never stops committing arson, but honestly? Hades rules over the dead. He might not be the god OF death, but he is the god of the dead. He is the emperor of the Underworld. He should have been able to stop Ikki from coming back, just because he said so.  This is one of those things that keeps ticking me off in Saint Seiya, when deities could have more than logical powers but it never goes in their favor. 

Now, back to the point I was making.  Seriously, why in the everloving hell did Hades throw away his chance at victory because of pettiness? You could have ended it in less than three seconds. Shaka wasn’t going to be able to stop you anyway. But noooooooooooooooooooo, you HAD to be dramatic about it.  And what happened? Oh yeah, Athena found a loophole in your plan and exploited it. 

Fuck’s sake, Hades. I love you to pieces, but your dear author did you dirty with that. 

But let’s move on, before I throw a chair in frustration. Let’s move on to Hades not living up to his full potential. 

Those two episodes with him in his real body were disappointing, to say the least. Hades did basically nothing, aside from swinging around his sword and ultimately losing to the deus ex machina that’s our dear combo Seiya+Athena.  I don’t even care what anyone might tell me, Hades lost just because the good guys had to win.  There was no reason for him to lose.  Athena shouldn’t have come back, first of all. That’s a miraculous bullshit I’ll never believe possible if not for plot convenience, because she was already gone. They way they told us about the urn, she was already gone and happy in the fields where our childhood dogs went.  So that’s the main bullshit I address here, in is favor.

The second one is Athena actually having enough energy left to deliver that ridiculous attack. Which, considering the shape of her staff, was just hilarious to look at. Kurumada, dear, if you wanted to have that scene you should have given Athena her spear, not a staff. Anyway, that blow shouldn’t have killed Hades.  Even believing in the bullshit that’s Athena with full power at that moment, she’s still weaker than Hades. She might be an Olympian, but Hades is still one of the big three of Greek mythology.  He’s more powerful than her. Saint Seiya has no business making him lose with so little effort. 

You might tell me that he just woke up, which is not entirely wrong seeing his body was dormant up until the series, but that’s not a valid reason for him to be so not powerful. He triggered the Greatest Eclipse while in Shun’s body, after all. 

Hades could have flicked his finger and made all the Saints fly away like breadcrumbs. Divine Cloth or not, Hades is still Hades. He should have killed them instead of just... I don’t know, throwing them around like a ball in a football field. He could have killed them.  Which leads to the final bullshit: the fact that Seiya, after being stabbed like  meat on a skewer, was still alive to tell the tale. I mean... I still want to believe he finally kicked the bucket because no one should mess with Hades, but looking at facts he’s still alive.  Which is another point that does Hades dirty. 

To end it all, the Hades of Saint Seiya is to humanity what a Karen is to essential store workers. And he got the same sad ending to his story.  Hades was a well presented villain, with so much darkness surrounding him and his power, but in the end we got 15 minutes of actual screentime and no justice for a character that should have been way better.  I decided to still give him at least a 5/10 because he did do something. He didn’t waste his time and that was it, but he also wasn’t the deity I was expecting. 

Comparison with the mythological counterpart

Overall score: 0/10

I’m sorry, but Hades in Saint Seiya doesn’t make the cut compared to the original god.  If you’re not familiar with the mythological Hades, let me give you a very quick summary.

Let’s start by saying that Hades is not evil. Most pieces of popular culture out there, from movies to comics to videogames, likes Hades as a villainous figure, evil and malicious just because of his domain as a god. Well, he’s not like that. Quite the opposite, actually.

Hades didn’t even choose to be god of the Underworld. Him getting this particular reign is the result of him, Poseidon and Zeus randomly drawing to get their places to rule, and Hades was not happy of this.  He later decided to not leave the Underworld, but still. His rule over the Underworld wasn’t his decision. 

More importantly, Hades is not depicted as evil, but more as a passive deity, with altruistic tendencies. Ancient Greeks, because of how there were as people, avoided him because of his link to the dead, but Hades was never described as malicious. Also, opposite to his drama queen attitude in Saint Seiya, Hades doesn’t give a shit about the world, and only cares about people not leaving his domain. Which is understandable, because who wouldn’t be upset if a dead soul tries to leave the freaking Underworld? Same goes for people that try to steal souls from his domain, he gets understandably angry, and for people that try to cheat death.  This is normal godly behavior, if you ask me. Not malicious or evil. Hades is the god of the dead, what do you want him to do if not guard over the dead?

And please, don’t forget Hades actually showed mercy. He gave Orpheus permission to try and reclaim Eurydice’s soul, urged by Persephone, and legit made Heracles borrow Cerberus for one of his trials.  Persephone is also a good example herself. Obviously, I’m not defending Hades abducting her (that was a dick move, my dear), but at least he didn’t do what Zeus normally does to people. In fact, he accepted to have her in the Underworld for just one third of the year, giving her back Demeter for the remainder of the time, and he truly loves her.  Try saying the same thing about some other god. You can’t. 

Oh, and he didn’t punish the dead with something crazy like Zeus would (looking at you, Prometheus), and he didn’t punish souls with no reasons, like most of the other gods do (just look at Athena, beating Arachne and turning her into a spider just because she was better than her at weaving). 

Who’s really evil, now?

The Hades of Saint Seiya is the complete opposite of everything I just wrote. He hates humanity with a burning passion and wants to kill everything in sight for no valid reason.  Not only that, mythology doesn’t tell us about some kind of war going on between him and Athena. In fact, I don’t even think Hades ever met Athena, if not when he left the Underworld to snatch Persephone from her flowers.  I really like Hades in Saint Seiya, once you take away all the protagonist bullshit that come with him being the villain of the series, but he’s still completely wrong. 

[hadestownmodern]

Do all of Eurydice’s healthy pregnancies ever upset persephone? Does Eurydice know what Persephone went through? (I’m a new reader and a big fan im sorry if you’ve answered this!)

Ahh hi hello, I didn’t get anything for this blog written tonight like I wanted so Im going through some asks!

In short.. yes.

By the time Persephone meets Eurydice, she has Junie. She has Junie who is all she ever really imagined. Things would have been SO Much different if she had not had Junie, because I do not believe she could have taken to Eurydice in the same way she did. I think if she hadn’t had Junie then seeing Eurydice get pregnant so easily and so unexpectedly would have been hard to handle. 

And even so, she has Junie, but it was hard at first.  Eurydice was being handed the thing she had SO Desperately wanted, even if she no longer yearned for it in the same way. So yes, at first... it was hard. There were nights where she cried and wondered why Eurydice and Orpheus get this HANDED to them. Accidentally.  She doesn’t let it affect her relationship with them, and is extremely supportive. She would not trade a single thing in the world for her Junie Bee. She is everything she could want and would not trade any of the heart break for her. She’s her dream. 

That being said. To see Eurydice and Orpheus be handed a healthy baby on the first try (not even a try, on accident) is hard. She tried for eighteen years for that. And then to see it happen to them again. And again. And Again. It’s hard.  

But. 

By the time Eurydice has Melody, that time in Persephone’s life is done. She no longer wants more. She has Junie. She has the daughter she wanted. And thats what allows her to be so accepting and loving and helpful to Eurydice and Orpheus. 

She HAD Junie, so she knew how to help. She knew what would get Eurydice through a long night with a new baby, or what was the best way to sleep. She was able to help Eurydice because she had Junie, especially so recently. Junie is only three when Eurydice comes into their lives. Having a baby is very fresh to Persephone at that point. So she’s SUCH a huge asset and support piece to them. 

So it can be hard to see them get what she wanted. But she wouldn’t change it. They are great parents to their kids. They love their daughters SO much. She wouldn’t wish bad on them. She wouldn’t change a thing, because Demeter has taught her anything, its that the Universe has plans and things will work out the way fate intends. 

and that being said. 

Eurydice does not know. Eurydice knows the basics. That she struggled to have Junie, that she had some loss. She knows that much. Persephone’s never gone into detail because she never had the need. She didn’t want to scare Eurydice, but also, there was no reason for it to come up. She doesn’t like to talk about it, and Eurydice doesn’t need that extra information stressing her out. 

However, Eurydice’s last child was born rather early. In fact they are born at the same point in pregnancy that Persephone lost her last one before Junie was born. There is a moment in which Eurydice is inconsolable and distraught because ‘how can anyone survive this’ when she thought hers wouldn’t make it, and Persephone has to look at her and tell her ‘well I did’ and goes a little bit more in detail and tells Eurydice, finally, after ten years of knowing her, everything. 

-A

[snidgetsafan]

Whom the Gods Love Die Young

Rating: G (for the moment)

Summary: The bride bit into the shiny red apple as everyone cheered around her, the wedding ceremony ending with this ritual gesture. The clapping and hurrahs soon turned to screams of horror as Snow dropped the apple, choking and clutching her throat as she fell in her groom’s arms, a last I love you leaving her lips before she died, David’s screams the loudest of all.

David and Emma travel to the Underworld to claim back Snow after her untimely death. In order to do so, they're going to have to face the dark and mysterious God of the Underworld and complete his challenges.

Seems simple enough until you add magic, divine quarrels, and the worst thing of all: feelings.

Notes: And here it is! The first chapter of my @cssns​! Thanks to the lovely ladies who organized this second edition! I took inspiration from both the Hades/Persephone and Orpheus/Eurydice myths, which I hope you’ll enjoy. I’d like to thank @shireness-says​ for betaing for me (at such short notice too!) and for cheering me one. Thanks darling, you’re a gem! I’d also like to thank @distant-rose​, who helped me with the mythological aspect of my fic when I was plotting it. She is a font of knowledge, people! All mistakes are mine, however. I’d also like to thank all the lovely ladies at the CSSNS Discord, who helped me when I needed it, and who always encouraged me when I needed it. Love you guys! And last but not least, I’d like to thank @tennant-the-tigger​ for the fantastic art she made for this fic, and which you can see at the top of this post. Thank you so, so much! (Go give her some love!)

Word count: 3.6k (on AO3)

The bride bit into the shiny red apple as everyone cheered around her, the wedding ceremony ending with this ritual gesture. The clapping and hurrahs soon turned to screams of horror as Snow dropped the apple, choking and clutching her throat as she fell in her groom’s arms, a last I love you leaving her lips before she died, David’s screams the loudest of all.

Emma’s eyes follow David as he paces back and forth in the dark room, not unlike a lion in its cage. They’d been asked (well, asked was not quite the right word; almost physically pushed in would be more accurate) to stay in this waiting room until the King of the Underworld could receive them, but Emma isn’t fooled. There are no windows in the room – probably because they’re deep under the hill the palace is built against – and Emma is pretty sure at least one person is standing on the other side of the only door. They’ve managed to travel to the realm of the dead quite easily, but Emma fears it will take a lot more to get out.

It had been surprisingly easy to get this far. After David had convinced her to accompany him on his mad trip to reclaim his murdered bride, Emma had sought the counsel of Elsa, Hecate’s High Priestess and Emma’s mentor within the temple. Prayers to the goddess had resulted in the appearance of two golden boughs on the altar, which the young priestess understood to be Hecate’s blessing.

(The strange dreams which plagued her that night must have been another gift - visions of boats, three sets of glowing eyes in the dark, pomegranates, and whispers of a word. She has no idea what "Killian” means, but she feels that it's essential to their quest.)

The legends about the whereabouts of the entrance to the Underworld were surprisingly accurate, and showing the golden boughs had allowed them to cross the Styx on Charon’s boat. The sedative-laced meat that David had brought took care of the three-headed hound guarding the gates of Hades (hadn’t that been a frightening explanation for the glowing eyes), and they had soon arrived at the doors of the dark palace.

But that’s where it had gotten more complicated. The guards they had come upon apparently weren’t used to having to deal with living people, as David had barely been able to explain why they were there before they had been shoved into this room, were they had been waiting for what felt like hours, leading to David’s pacing. Emma, for her part, was trying to keep a calm façade in case they were being watched (they were, she just knew it, could feel eyes on her, had been able to since they had stepped into the Underworld).

Waiting for such a length of time is not beneficial to Emma’s nerves. Ever since Snow’s death, David – and Emma by extension – hadn’t stopped moving and acting. Emma knows that for her brother, this is a way to avoid confronting the memory of his bride ( wife , she can hear David’s voice insist in her mind) dying in his arms during their wedding ceremony. Grooms traditionally give an apple to their bride to symbolize their ability to provide for their future household, and the bride’s eating of the apple signifies her acceptance of her husband, the final act of the wedding ceremony (well, before the very last act of consummation of course, but that was not something done in public, nor something Emma wants to think about in relation with her brother. Ever). Except that this time, the apple had been poisoned by Snow’s witch of a stepmother in an unthinkable desecration of the wedding ritual and a blasphemy against Hera, and only a single bite had been enough to kill Snow in mere seconds.

The witch had been immediately smote, her heart giving out even before Snow had taken her last breath. Her corpse had been found on the steps of Eris’ temple, where she had probably been trying to seek refuge. Seems like not even the goddess of revenge can protect you from Hera’s wrath. She’d probably gotten a straight ticket to Tartarus, Emma thinks grimly.

Good riddance.

But David hadn’t let misery take hold of him, and had instead gone straight into anger, arguing that Snow should have been protected by the goddess of marriage during her own wedding, that it wasn’t fair, and that the gods help him (or not, Emma couldn’t help but think), he was going to find his wife and bring her back. Emma had followed him, mostly so he wouldn’t end up dead too, but also because Snow was her friend. She could still see her collapse into David’s arms every time she closed her eyes.

The young priestess’ thoughts are interrupted by the door opening and a mousy little man wearing a red Phrygian hat comes in, looking surprisingly… ordinary. David stops pacing too, coming to stand next to his sister as they watch the man approach them, followed by a tall helmed guard.

“Good evening, Emma and David, my name is Smee. I was told you’d like to speak to his Highness?” the little man says, looking at them expectantly.

Emma blinks, jarred. The man – Smee – looks so out of place, with his colorful hat and affable manners, stepping into this dark stone room in the heart of a hill which is itself in the heart of the Underworld. The siblings have both been gearing themselves to meet with opposition and hostility, not… politeness.

“Er,” she says eloquently, looking at David, who looks as flabbergasted as she feels.

“This way?” Smee continues as if nothing is amiss, gesturing towards the door before exiting into the hall.

David leads the way out of the door, before slowing down to let Emma step up beside him as they walk down the corridor, sandwiched between Smee and the guard. David steps closer to her, allowing the folds of their chitons to conceal the frantic way he grabs Emma’s hand, the strength of his grip betraying his anxiety at the meeting to come. Emma doesn’t mind, as she’s grabbing onto her brother’s hand as tightly as he is, although perhaps not for the same reasons. David’s only goal is to get Snow back; he isn’t thinking about anything else. Emma can see the bigger picture, and that bigger picture is that they’re going to be face to face with the freaking God of the Dead .

Very little is known about the God of the Underworld. Emma knows he is the brother of Liam, God of the Seas and of Arthur, God of Thunder and King of Mount Olympus, that he was given the Realm of the Dead to govern, and that he rarely leaves his kingdom. So little is known about him that mortals don’t even know his name, forcing them to use one of several monikers when referring to him such as King of the Underworld, Lord of the Dead, or even simply Hades, as if the god were equal to the realm he rules. Despite all these names, the god is rarely mentioned in the mortal world. His very role of Agesander , the soul carrier, makes him the most terrifying figure in the Pantheon to most people.

Emma can still feel eyes on her, even more intensely than before. Her shoulder blades itch from the uncanny sensation of being watched, but she refrains from squirming, not wanting to show any discomfort to their escorts. She has to stay strong, she repeats to herself as a mantra. David’s sanity and Snow’s life (and their own, too, she guesses) are at stake here.

What feels like hours later, but is probably only minutes (five flights of stairs, though; she had no idea coming to the Underworld would be so physical), they arrive in another, more airy part of the palace. There are actually windows here, and she can feel a breeze ruffling her hair and the edges of her clothes. While made of dark stone, the palace didn’t seem as gloomy as she had expected, Emma notes with some surprise. Light streams into the halls, making the floors gleam, and a glimpse out of the window affords her a view of what seems to be an orchard and rolling fields beyond that.

Soon after they enter the hall, their guides stop in front of two massive basalt doors. The portal opens soundlessly in front of them, revealing a grand throne room beyond. Smee and the guard in front step in, heading towards the throne at the other end of the room, and David and Emma follow, taking a deep breath to center themselves.

A man – no, a god – sits on a high-backed throne on a grand dais, seemingly bored, if his slumped position can be believed. His lavish black clothes and spiky crown clearly designate him as the ruler of this place yet something feels… odd. Emma frowns but says nothing as she approaches with David. After all, it’s not like she has anything to compare the situation with. While becoming a priestess of Hecate has afforded her easier contact with her goddess, she hasn’t met her. Not even Elsa has had that privilege, and she is the High Priestess of their temple. Still… this doesn’t feel right .

“So, you dare trespass on my kingdom?” the god’s voice booms in the cavernous hall as soon as they are in speaking distance.

David steps forward, dropping on one knee at the foot of the dais and bowing his head in deference, Emma demurely following his lead.

“We’re sorry, my Lord,” David begins, his eyes still lowered to the floor. “I merely wished for an audience to beg a request of you.”

“A favor, eh? I have temples for that, why didn’t you use the traditional method?”

“Because you must get these kinds of prayers every day, and I wanted to be sure you’d listen to mine. My bride – my wife was killed during our wedding, and I’m here to beg you to let her come back home.”

“You’re right, I do get prayers every day. What gives you the idea that you are any different from all of these people?”

Emma frowns as David tries to justify his plea. Hecate has gifted her with the ability to detect lies, and that is what she feels coming from the god right now. Can her power even work on a deity? Is it a blasphemy to even presume it can? And yet… something’ s not right. Keeping her eyes downcast, Emma nonetheless focuses all her senses on what the seated god is saying. The feeling doesn’t go away; on the contrary, it amplifies as he goes on. What’s going on?

“Please, my Lord,” David is pleading, desperate to sway the being in front of him. “I’d do anything to get her back.”

“I can’t give you your bride back,” the god says. True . “Can you imagine what would happen if people heard that the Lord of Hades lets people go? The kingdom would be swamped with people wanting their lovers, children, or evencats back.”

Emma decides to intervene, seeing her brother flounder in his desperation, and wanting to test a theory.

“The only way we were able to get to you, your Highness, was because Hecate helped us. I feel that if she deigned to assist us, it’s because she feels our quest is justified.”

“Help from Hecate?” the god asks suddenly, straightening on his throne, a move echoed by Smee and the guard still standing behind Emma. “What are you talking about, mortal?”

“The goddess gifted us with these boughs to pay the ferryman,” Emma answers, prompting David to open his satchel to show the glimmering branches. “And she gave me… instructions,” she finishes a little lamely, not knowing how to explain her dreams.

The god is silent, gazing over Emma’s shoulder, seemingly lost in his thoughts. Emma watches him, waiting for his decision.

Which is not the one she hoped for.

“Nonetheless,” he says, slouching back onto his throne, “a death is a death. I might be the Lord of the Underworld, but there are certain lengths I won’t go to, and this is one of them.”

Lie . A big, fat, blaring lie that sets all of Emma’s senses aflame as she takes a surprised breath.

“No, you’re not,” she blurts out, staring at him incredulously now. What’s going on? Who is this man – no, not a man, divinity definitely oozes from him, he is a god… but not the god of this place.

“What did you just say.” the god rumbles, David’s hissed “ Emma!” drowned by the sound echoing all around them. Everything is still in the room – deathly so, she thinks a little hysterically as she realizes she has become the center of attention. The stares from the men in the room, as well as the invisible eyes which have been following her every move, weigh on her like so many lead weights. And yet…

“You may be a God, my Lord, but you are not the ruler of this place,” she repeats a little more assuredly, ignoring David’s attempts to shush her. The more she thinks about it, the more Emma’s sure of herself. And the angrier she grows. They’re here to beg for Snow’s life; David is slowly going mad with pain, she’s grieving for her friend as well, and these gods (because the Lord Hades has to be part of this masquerade, he has to) are playing games with them.

“Quite presumptuous of you to make such a claim.”

“I know when someone is lying. And you are,” Emma answers calmly, knowing there’s a chance those could be her last words.

“You have some gall, mortal. I like it. Well, this was fun while it lasted,” the god says as he rises, his solemn demeanor dissolving into nonchalance as he descends from the dais, walking towards them. “They’re all yours, pal, have fun with them,” he says as he passes them without stopping, clapping the guard behind Emma on the shoulder before sauntering out of the room.

Emma and David turn as one man towards the guard, both having the same thought. Had the actual God of the Underworld been with them the whole time? How had they not noticed ? Because now that they look at him, the same powerful aura that had emanated from the pseudo-Hades also seeps from the guard’s skin, clearly betraying his divine nature.

The guard sighs, looking to the ceiling, before he unclasps his helmet and takes it off, looking at the siblings exasperatedly. Stepping in front of them, he throws the helmet to Smee before crossing his arms, his clothes changing right in front of their eyes from a soldier’s garb to a black himation revealing one of his strong shoulders as well as part of his chest.

“Cat’s out of the bag, then.”

Emma tries to keep her cool. It would serve no purpose at all for her to berate a god.

David has no such qualms, however, his temper getting the best of him. “You… you mean all of this was just a joke? Who was that?”

“That, as you so eloquently put it, mortal, was Hermes, messenger of the gods. Before you put voice to the thoughts I can so clearly see on your face, may I remind you that he is my nephew, and you are in my domain?”

David swallows nervously before chancing a look at Emma, who surreptitiously nods. All true, even the threat. Especially the threat. Hermes had been all talk; his uncle will not hesitate to put action to word.

“No, your Highness,” David mutters apologetically.

“Good. Now, let’s be quick about this: I cannot help you on your quest. Your fiancée has died, and dead she shall remain.”

David’s face crumples as he hears the god deal his judgement in such a final tone, before he steels himself once more, straightening his spine and raising his head.

“But it’s not fair! She was killed during our wedding ceremony! She should have been protected by Hera!”

At this, the god perks up, looking more closely at David. “Your fiancée is Snow Leukḗ?”

“Yes!” David exclaims, his hope renewing at the god’s recognition. “You’ve heard of her?”

“I’ve heard of her killer,” the god corrects, sneaking a glance at Emma. “It’s not often we get new guests in Tartarus.”

So Regina had been sent to Tartarus to endure eternal torment, then. Emma doesn’t feel as satisfied as she had been earlier, but she can’t feel any pity for the woman either. She had gotten what was coming to her. Taking a look at her brother, Emma is surprised not to see a smile on his face at the news. The gods know he had ranted and raved about what he’d do to Regina since Snow had died and they had embarked on their quest, but now that he knows she’s suffering far worse than anything he could have come up with, he just looks… grimly resigned. Which shouldn’t really surprise Emma anyway; her brother is a just and fair man who would never do ill on any other soul, despite his words.

“So you agree that Snow’s death was unfair, then?” David tries to press his advantage.

“My role is to care for dead souls, not to pass judgement on their lives or deaths,” the god answers shortly, clearly growing tired of this conversation. “Now, I’ll kindly ask you to leave my kingdom, unless you want to be made permanent residents of it sooner than you expected.”

David isn’t budging. “But, the goddess Hecate – “

“Hecate gave you two trinkets and a dream and what, I should indulge your desires? You think you’re the only one who’s ever gotten a god’s favor to come down here? Orpheus did, and Orpheus failed. This is my kingdom, my realm, and I will rule it as I see fit, whether or not it pleases you, your sister, or bloody Hecate!” the god shouts in anger, getting closer and closer to David until their noses are practically touching.

Emma watches all of this, thinking furiously. When put in this light, Hecate’s gifts did help them get here, but now if looks like they’re on their own. Are they, though? Every step of their quest, every difficulty had been thwarted by a hint or a boon from the goddess. Why not this one too? Emma thinks about her dream. She doesn’t see how pomegranates could help her in this situation, which leaves her with…

“Killian,” she says, looking up at the god, who freezes as soon as the three syllables pass her lips before whirling to look at her, completely ignoring David and an agape Smee.

“What did you just say?” he growls, stalking towards her, his blue eyes flashing.

This is the first time she has the full attention of the god, and it is… intense. It feels like being under a hundred gazes at the same time, watching her from all angles. Actually, she has felt like that several times since arriving in the Underworld, even though the feeling hadn’t been that strong then. Was that the god’s eyes she had felt? Had he been watching them since the gates? If he had known about them, then why hadn’t he come to them earlier?

“I said ‘Killian,’ your Highness... That’s your name, isn’t it?” she realizes, seeing him react once more to the word.

“Who told you?” he demands, now towering over her and ignoring her question.

“I– it was in my dream?” Her answer sounds more like a question, the god’s proximity and the fire in his eyes rattling her and making her lose control of her voice. “I told you, Hecate sent me a dream, and that was– “

“Yes yes, that was part of it, right,” the god – Killian – interrupts as he once again whirls around, pacing agitatedly in front of the two siblings. In the distance, a dog barks (there are dogs in the Underworld? Are there other animals?) and the god stops walking, his back to them. Dragging his hand heavily over his face, he sigh   s as he goes to slouch on his throne , mutters of “bloody meddling hag ” reaching Emma and David before the god speaks up, sounding as if each word is a chore to utter.

“Very well. I agree to give you a chance to reclaim your fiancée. But!” he hurries to say, before David and Emma can get their hopes up too much, “in order to be allowed to leave the Underworld with her alive, you must accomplish three tasks for me to prove your worth and devotion. If you can complete them, then I’ll give Snow Leukḗ back to you, and the three of you will be able to leave freely. If you fail one of those… you’ll be taken out of the realm, and only allowed back in after your death. Are we clear on this?”

David seems about to burst with joy and hope, barely daring to believe this reversal of fortune. Overcome with emotion, he nods enthusiastically before thanking the god profusely. Emma too feels fit to burst with relief, bowing to the god before looking up, catching his eyes scrutinizing her before he turns away, his himation swinging about his legs as he walks towards his throne.

Emma has no idea what pushed the god to change his mind so suddenly, but she knows it has something to do with his name. No one knows his name in the living world, so she understands that it has at least some importance that Hecate chose to reveal it to her. But why did Had– Killian fold so quickly?

Three tasks to get Snow back. Seemed reasonable. If Herakles could manage twelve, Emma and David could manage a quarter of that, right?

Right? Tag list (tell me if you want to be added or removed!): @hollyethecurious, @shireness-says, @gingerchangeling, @slow-smiles, @wingedlioness, @branlovesouat, @snowbellewells, @kmomof4

[qionow]

Elegy for the Earth (1)

The tale of Orpheus and Eurydice, or Marzia’s journey to the Underworld.

(i’m just testing yet another au out, so here’s like 5k words of nyo!gerita with marzia being very gay and very musically talented + wood nymph monika because who doesn’t want that. the rest of the myth is gonna be finished in another post, but here’s some deceptively sweet fluff for now)

To the untrained ear, the silence of the woods cast a heavy weight on those who dared to venture within its boundaries, thick branches tangled together to block out the sky above and muffle the land they protected. 

But Marzia could hear the melody hidden deep in the heart that the forest covered. 

The whistle of the wind rustling through the leaves, the chirping of the birds perched safely in the cover of the branches, the light pattering of the squirrels darting across the worn dirt path, that hushed song slowly unveiled itself in the safety that those woods provided. 

That was the music she strove to replicate, strumming the lyre in her arms as she joined the symphony of the forest around her and sang. 

Each gentle note, every faint hum, all of the sounds she made she used to coax more of the world around her out until the trees dipped low to hear her song and the forest joined her harmony to meld their creations together into a melodious wonder.

The gift of music wasn’t one that Marzia intended on wasting, but even she couldn’t walk forever before her legs started to ache and her voice started to crack with muffled gasps for air. 

Marzia briefly glanced around, spinning in a lazy circle to take in the blur of vibrant greens and muted browns that weaved together to form the hazy woods around her. She only stopped when she saw the grand oak tree just a little ways away from the path, young green leaves filtering out the harsh sunlight above to cast a swaying shadow on the ground that slowly swept across the ground with the passing breeze. 

In short, the perfect spot to rest. 

The earthy scent of the woods rushed to greet her as she settled down near the roots of the tree with a content sigh, the rough scratch of the bark against her back easing her fall until she was safe under the shade of the tree. Her clothes were surely ruined by the damp dirt under her, but Marzia hardly cared about that now that she had a moment to rest. 

She took a minute to close her eyes, savoring the melody around her once more and catching her breath before she finally strummed her lyre and sang along with that unseen song. 

The quiet hum of the nature around her harmonized with her music, from the brush of the wind to the chattering of the creatures hidden in the brush, a tune she drew from in order to form her own.

When her throat started to ache with the first signs of fatigue, Marzia allowed herself to rest, although her fingers still plucked idly at the strings of her lyre in a slow tune. In that brief intermission, she finally opened her eyes and froze when she saw a woman standing in front of her. 

Marzia had never seen anyone quite like her, dressed in a chiton that draped loosely over her broad form. Pale blonde hair cropped short swept across her face with the breeze, revealing a pair of piercing blue eyes that shone a deep navy in the sunlight for a brief moment until they widened with surprise. 

Before Marzia could even think to say a word to her, she was gone, vanished as if she had never existed in the first place. 

All Marzia could do was stare at first, jaw dropping open as she took in the empty spot where the woman had just been standing before she jolted forward to sit up and whip her head around. 

There were no signs of footprints, no indentations in the earth to prove that a mortal had been there at all, and for a moment, Marzia felt fear rear its head up alongside the mess of confusion. 

She had been a fool to think that such beauty would be anything but divine.

But as she made to stand up, lyre clutched to her chest, the branches above her reached to follow, curling in on themselves ever so slightly as the creaking of the wood joined the rustling of the leaves. 

And in that brief burst of sound, Marzia could have sworn she heard a voice, hidden deep in the music of the oak tree. 

No.

Marzia looked up, but saw no one, no woman, no person, around her to claim that deep rumble as their own. As she glanced back at the oak tree behind her though, a slow suspicion started to form in Marzia’s head. 

“Do you want me to stay?” 

It felt odd to address a tree, but the answer she received was clear enough. The branches slowly unfurled themselves, straightening back out in what Marzia could only assume was an open invitation for her to accept. 

Marzia blinked once, then twice before her lips curled up into a warm smile, kneeling down to sit by the base of the tree once more. 

“I hope you don’t mind if I play a little then,” she mused. 

Yet again, there was no answer to be seen, but Marzia heard the sharp rustle of the leaves in a slow rhythm, as if someone was nodding their head along ever so slightly. 

With that, Marzia strummed the lyre once more and opened her mouth to sing along with it. The forest remained her ever-present audience, but this time, Marzia was nothing but delighted to be able to perform for the dryad who had allowed her to stay. 

-

She made sure to visit the oak tree day after day, resting under the shade of the branches and singing whatever new melody she had composed that morning. Hours flew by as she hummed and played her lyre, but she had yet to see the dryad reveal herself as she had that fateful day. 

Regardless, it was an honor to gain the trust of one and Marzia made sure to treat that privilege as such. She knew the dryad was listening, even if she never appeared in person, and that was enough for Marzia.

However, as Marzia closed her eyes to rest one day, sitting against the trunk of the oak tree as usual, that quickly changed when she felt the distinct sensation of someone watching her. She had her suspicions as to who exactly it was, and when she opened her eyes to see the familiar sight of the same dryad studying her, she only gave a kind smile back. 

“This is your tree, isn’t it?” 

The woman looked surprised at her gentle question, eyes widening for a brief moment before she carefully nodded her head. “Yes.” 

And oh, her voice was deep with the power of the roots below them, a strong and steady rumble as firm as the earth she inhabited. Marzia could already hear the song in her voice, the hidden melody in that simple word, but that was a matter for later. 

“Who are you?” the nymph asked cautiously, studying her carefully with the same stern gaze that Marzia remembered first seeing.

However, she made sure to answer properly this time, taking care to keep her focus on the question at hand. “I’m Marzia. Marzia Vargas.” 

“Marzia.” Her name came off so differently when it rolled off of the tongue of the dryad, slowly testing out the sound for herself before she nodded. “My name is Monika.” 

Marzia couldn’t have thought of a more fitting name for her, beaming up at her as she leaned back against the trunk of the oak tree. “That’s a pretty name.” 

She couldn’t help the giggle that sprung from her chest when Monika’s pale face flushed bright red, eyes darting to the side as she cleared her throat in a show of surprise that Marzia didn’t expect from someone so intimidating. 

“Thank you,” she finally mumbled, pausing in order to rush out her next sentence. “Your name is very nice as well.”

Marzia could feel the genuine appreciation in that compliment and it was one that she took to heart as she laughed. 

“I'm glad you like it.” She beamed up at Monika, lightened in the warm atmosphere around them until she suddenly gasped. “Oh, I forgot to ask! Would you like to sit with me?” 

Monika glanced down for a moment, ducking her head ever so slightly before she met Marzia’s eyes again. “If you don’t mind,” she said quietly.

Marzia didn’t have to think twice when she beamed at her. 

“Not at all!” She patted the open spot next to her cheerfully. “Here, there’s plenty of space for both of us!” 

That seemed to be enough to convince Monika to move, slowly making her way over to her to sit down by her side. However, Marzia could still catch the hint of something hidden away on her face, held behind by hesitation. 

She frowned and tilted her head, leaning forward to meet her eyes with a concerned stare. “Is something wrong?” 

Almost immediately, that flicker of doubt was gone, cast away with a shake of Monika’s head. “No, it’s nothing.” 

That only served to deepen Marzia’s worry though as she gathered up her lyre in her arms. 

“If I’m bothering you, I can leave-” 

“No!” 

They both froze as soon as that word left Monika’s mouth, staring blankly at one another until Monika let out a heavy sigh.

“It’s just-” She cut herself off and brought a hand up to rub at her temples before she finally glanced back at Marzia. “Could you keep singing?” 

Her request was nearly inaudible, barely caught over the sound of the forest around them, but to Marzia, it was about as clear as could be. 

And she had never been so honored to receive such a request in her life as she settled back down, picking her lyre up as she shot a warm smile towards Monika.

“Of course I can.” 

Marzia’s fingers plucked at the strings of her lyre, drawing out a series of melodies before she settled on a light-hearted tune, one that she drew from the mellow air around them. As soon as that harmony started to develop under her guidance, she allowed herself to sing along and coax that music out into the world. 

Performing for the world was enough for her, but to sing for a woman who listened so closely to her music was an experience that Marzia could never hope to compare to any other.

-

Days melted into weeks before those too faded away into months, time passing by ever so eagerly as Marzia made her way to the oak tree every day. 

Some days she wouldn’t stay long, darting by to offer a quick greeting to Monika before she was rushing back home to finish whatever task she had put off on completing in order to wander around in the woods. 

Other days, she would stay at that tree until the sun rose and fell, watching the sky fade from a clear blue into a swirl of bright oranges and royal purples before the night fell in a deep black blanket across the land, swallowing up the shadows beneath them until all that was left was Marzia’s quiet song in the hush of the land. 

Those were the days that she treasured, when she could relax against the trunk of the tree with Monika at her side and share idle conversation with her as she plucked at the strings of her lyre. Everything from the weather to their respective sisters all came to light in their talks, no topic left untouched under the endless amount of time they shared together.

And ever so slowly, Marzia saw the kind woman within the fierce dryad that she had first encountered, someone who fed the stray dogs of the town with whatever berries she picked that day and guided lost travellers back to the worn dirt path during the cold winter nights. 

Monika was as soft as she was strong and Marzia felt nothing but gratefulness to be able to know her. 

For once, this was another night where Marzia could stay with Monika from the sunrise onwards, letting the afternoon pass by them ever so lazily until the forest started to darken with the coming sunset. 

The summer breeze gently carried the last of the warmth from the day along with it, whisking along the scent of old pine and well-cared earth with it in a pleasantly hazy combination. With the gentle end to the day, Marzia’s music followed suit as well, humming out a soft lullaby to soothe the world to sleep as Monika sat quietly by her side. 

When she finally played the last note on her lyre and let her voice carry out through the woods one final time before her song ended, she allowed the silence to settle between them, a brief respite for Marzia to catch her breath. 

Once she took a deep breath and let out a content sigh though, she turned her head to face Monika, leaning against the scratchy bark of the oak tree. 

“Are you happy here, Monika?” she murmured.

Monika paused at that, blinking once before a contemplative look settled across her face. “Here?” 

Marzia nodded lazily, letting her hands fall to her lap to set her lyre down. 

“In the woods.” She kept her voice hushed, barely above a whisper as the night settled down around them. “It has to be lonely, being here all by yourself.” 

Monika didn’t answer right away, a silent request for some more time to think before she slowly gave her response.

“It was, at first,” she replied. “I don’t mind it though.”

She soon pinned Marzia down with a confused stare, furrowing her brow ever so slightly. “Why are you asking?” 

“I was just thinking,” Marzia hummed, “that maybe you could come live with me.” 

This time, the silence that sprouted between them was filled with nothing but shock.

“Live with you?” Monika repeated, tone already dipping into disbelief. 

That didn’t stop Marzia from nodding along with a bright smile though. 

“Mhm!” She let her voice strengthen itself with her conviction. “So you won’t be all alone here.” 

Monika only opened and closed her mouth, visibly racing through a multitude of answers in her head before she finally settled on one.

“Do you understand how forward that is?” 

Her tone was incredulous, but Marzia could see the faint pink dusting across her cheeks, and that was enough for her to decide to push her luck. 

“Forward?” Her grin widened as she leaned forward to playfully nudge Monika’s shoulder with her own. “Do you want me to ask if I can marry you first?” 

Just like that, Monika’s light blush burst into a heavy crimson that jumped to spread down to her neck, completely covering her face and betraying her embarrassment, much to Marzia’s delight.

She couldn’t help the small laugh that burst from her chest, light and carefree in the summer air until she finally managed to suppress them into sporadic giggles and settled back down.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she sighed, letting her smile fade ever so slightly into gentle concern, “but are you sure you don’t want to stay with me?” 

Monika quickly sobered herself up as well, shaking her head and sending her short hair waving across her face with that small motion.

“I’m fine here.” She glanced down with Marzia with a hint of exasperation. “You still visit anyways.” 

Marzia couldn’t argue with that, so she simply settled for shooting her a broad grin. 

“I’ll just come more often then,” she announced. 

Monika let out a low hum, the heavy sound laced with amusement no matter how stern she tried to appear. “I can’t stop you, can I?” 

“You could,” Marzia replied easily, smile widening with every word, “but you won’t.” 

Monika sighed, an unspoken acceptance of Marzia's singsong opinion before she moved on to the next matter on her mind. “Could you sing again?” 

All of the hesitance she had struggled with earlier on was gone, leaving behind a polite formality that Marzia had come to connect with Monika herself. 

And as always, her answer was the same.

“Of course.”

She settled herself down on the earth before she picked up her lyre to strum another chord and send it out for one last melody before the night fully enveloped the sky. 

Her own voice was quiet, a song made solely for Monika to hear, as she weaved her music. 

And as the sunset finally melted away to let the moon peek through the sky under the light of the stars, Marzia shifted closer inch by inch until her head finally dropped down to rest on Monika’s shoulder, letting the melody she weaved wash over them both until sleep granted them their rest.

-

The beating of her heart was one of the first rhythms that Marzia had ever truly came to admire, the first melody she had heard as a child. 

The constant thud, the steady pulse through her veins, the rush of emotions that flooded her chest, that was the music that she had admired so deeply when she was younger. 

But now, Marzia wondered if she could drown in that music the longer time went on. 

She wasn’t sure when it had started, when the muted hum of admiration tumbled into an all-encompassing adoration that she could do little to stop. It simply dragged her along in its haphazard path, throwing her headfirst into the love that she had sang so often about. 

Monika was the perfect muse to serve as a catalyst for those whirlwind of emotions after all. 

Stoic and strong to the world, sheltering the hidden care inside that she granted with a selective hand, there was little about her that Marzia could bring herself to criticize. 

She worried from time to time if Monika would be able to see the love that overflowed from her, threatening to spill her secrets out at her feet until all she could do was pray that she would accept what little she had to offer. If that was what Monika wanted though, if that was what the dryad that had captivated Marzia so strongly asked for, then Marzia would gladly throw her love down for her without a second thought. 

She would be content without an answer to those fears, to keep that hazy affection to keep to herself and warm her with idle fantasies and softened daydreams when she was alone. 

But her answer came much faster than she expected on one unsuspecting afternoon. 

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” 

Marzia glanced over her shoulder, meeting Monika’s concerned stare with a bright smile. 

“It’ll be fine!” she chirped back, checking to make sure her lyre was safely out of the way and nestled against the trunk of the oak tree. “This is your tree anyways! It’s just as strong as you!” 

But still, Monika hesitated, standing in place as her hands drifted down to clasp behind her back before they fell to her sides again as she eyed the branches with caution. “You can still fall.”

A lazy flick of Marzia’s wrist waved off that concern in a second though. 

“I’m not climbing all the way up!” she replied with a grin, pointing up to the first set of branches above her. “Just to there!” 

Monika looked between her destination and Marzia herself for a moment, gaze flickering back and forth until she finally let out a heavy sigh. 

“Just this once,” she muttered, stepping forward to join Marzia. 

Marzia couldn’t stop her grin from widening as she let out a delighted laugh, tossing her head back with joy. 

“Thank you!” That cheer only lasted a minute before her grin turned somewhat sheepish. “Now can you help me up?” 

The only way to describe the stare that Monika gave her in that moment would be incredulous, but even that quickly faded as she ducked her head and let out a miffed huff. 

Marzia still caught the small smile on her face though, and that was enough to make her joy return tenfold. 

“Fine.” Monika carefully made her way forward until she was just behind Marzia, a warm and steady presence at her back as she slowly reached out to grip Marzia’s waist. 

It was one thing to watch those hands work, but to finally have them resting on her so gingerly sent shivers down Marzia’s spine. 

“Is this alright?” Monika asked quietly, voice deep with concern. 

Marzia quickly nodded, careful to keep her lips shut to keep that little thought from escaping her. “Mhm!” 

Monika studied her closely, eyes narrowing for a brief moment before she finally nodded to herself. 

Without another word, she hefted Marzia up off the ground until she could reach up to grab the branch above her head. A part of her wondered exactly what it would be like to be held in those arms, but Marzia only soothed that brief daydream back down for later as she clambered up onto the sturdy branch. 

As soon as she scooted over to rest against the trunk of the tree, peering down with a bright smile, Monika promptly vanished once more before she reappeared on the branch just next to her. 

“See?” Marzia couldn’t keep the teasing curl out of her words as she grinned at Monika. “I told you it would be fine!” 

Monika only shook her head in response, letting out an exasperated sigh at her jest. Marzia could tell that there was no real offense in her expression though, and that was enough for her to let out a small laugh before she turned her attention to the view ahead of her. 

There wasn’t enough height to get a view of the whole forest, but the sight they had was wonderous enough on its own. 

From here, the dark clumps of bushes and thickets were spread out until they were hardly much larger than Marzia’s lyre. The sun-speckled forest floor lay splayed below her, a surface that pulsed the tide of shadows with the sway of the leaves above her head. 

She knew that the forest was a place filled with life, overflowing with song, but from here, that song surrounded her until the woods filled up the world around them with nothing but their hushed melody. 

Marzia could only stare at first, unable to think of the words fitting enough to describe the world around her before she turned to face Monika and found that same awe-struck stare aimed back at her. 

She froze under that stare, keen blue eyes flickering under the light until Marzia could have sworn that Monika had trapped the untameable ocean in her gaze. There was no song that she could have sung to describe the woman in front of her, but somehow, she managed to keep talking nonetheless.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she whispered, not daring to raise her voice above the melody of the forest around them. 

That was enough to startle Monika out of her haze, whipping her head back forward to keep her eyes on the ground.

“Yes.” Her sentences came out rushed, hurried to cover up what Marzia had just seen. “Yes, it is.” 

But that little glimpse was what filled Marzia’s chest with hope, pure and innocent as she looked over Monika. It gave her the courage to reach out to lay her hand on top of Monika’s, stunned blue meeting warm caramel in a split second.

“Thank you for letting me stay with you,” she said quietly. “For all of this.” 

She could already feel the protest rising up to battle that gratitude, so Marzia made sure to cut it off before it could even begin.

“I mean it,” she continued, letting out a heavy sigh that slowly peeled away the layers in her tone to reveal the flicker of insecurity beneath. “I don’t know why you keep me around. All I can give you is music, and that won’t help you grow.” 

“No.” 

Marzia froze when Monika’s voice hardened, her hand curling around with Monika’s as she tightened her grip on the wood.

“Your music-” She paused, faltering over her words before she managed to translate her thoughts properly. “Your music is very important to me.” 

Marzia had learned long ago that such a simple statement could hold layer upon layer of meaning deep within when it came to Monika. She wasn’t a woman of many words and what she did speak, she truly meant.

“I can’t explain it,” she continued, visibly struggling with each word as it came out, “but it helps me.” 

Monika fell silent for a moment, contemplation evident on her face before she finally lifted her head to meet Marzia’s gaze once more.

“Maybe not to grow, but to live.” 

And with that simple melody, not one that even Monika herself could hear, Marzia fell faster than she ever had in her life. 

Her whole body was lit aflame with nothing but sweet adoration, basking in the quiet melody that Monika had forged together for her. For all of the songs that she had made, for all of the intricate lyrics that she had composed, Marzia couldn’t think of a single thing to describe just how her heart threatened to beat right out of her chest. 

So perhaps it was reckless, perhaps it was foolish, but Marzia threw her hopes into expressing those desperate feelings into one simple action. 

She leaned forward ever so slightly until she could see the depths of those deep blue eyes for herself, not daring to move any further.

“Can I-?” 

Those words brushed against Monika’s lips, but her answer came not even a second later as Monika pushed herself forward to close the distance between them. 

In that second, Marzia’s song burst from her, a melody of hushed gasps and muffled hums composed with that simple kiss. It was a song she would never sing for any other audience, one she would never dare to perform for any other living soul. 

But as she trailed one hand up to tangle in Monika’s hair, pulling her close within the safety of the deep green leaves around them, Marzia allowed that song to leave her for the woman who had inspired its very creation.

-

The only way that Marzia could describe the forest was paradise. Here, she could sing and play to her heart’s content, safe in the arms of her lover. 

That was where she found herself now, nestled in between Monika’s legs to lean back against her chest, strumming at her lyre as Monika rested her hands along her waist. 

The tune was a simple one, not much more than a ditty she had created on the spot, but it was enough work to keep her busy and it was more than enough to satisfy Monika. 

Her music filled the air, flowing with the breeze until it was swept to the very boundaries of the forest. The sound of her lyre was the only sound around them, but that gentle tune quickly stopped when heavy footsteps came to join them. 

Marzia glanced up and quickly bolted upright when she saw a man staring back at them, eyes wide as his gaze fixated on Monika. 

“You’re the nymph around here, aren’t you?” His voice took on a reverent hum, one that chilled Marzia to the core when she recognized it as a twisted variation of the tone that she had used on Monika so often. “You’re certainly as beautiful as they say you are.” 

However, the praise seemed to have little effect on Monika as her face hardened into a cold glare, standing up without ever taking her eyes off of him. 

“You’re not welcome here,” she replied, words as harsh as steel. “I do not take flattery lightly.” 

Their unwanted guest only gestured towards himself with disbelief at that statement though.

“Flattery?” he repeated. “I don’t know what kind of men you’ve been seeing, but I assure you, what I say is true.” 

Marzia felt her skin crawl with those very words, heard the hidden song deep within his voice. It was one she had heard many times before, honeyed compliments that ran off the tongue as sweet as sugar to hide the lust within in a syrupy haze. 

She glanced up at Monika, wondering if she could hear that dangerous melody as well, but the way Monika’s eyes froze into an icy blue stare certainly showed her awareness of that threat. 

“I said leave.” That simple word brought forth the strength of the earth at their feet, a deep rumble that rose from the roots of the tree she drew her power from. “Do not make me repeat myself.” 

Marzia saw the moment the man realized that his serenade had failed, kind expression falling into puzzlement before he finally looked down to meet her eyes. 

And she had never been more terrified when the cruel understanding dawned upon him. 

“Are you nymphs really all just prudes?” His eyes never left Marzia’s as she scrambled up to join Monika, who quickly stepped in front of her as soon as he started to speak. “You just can’t be bothered with men, so this is what you turn to.” 

His hand twisted for a brief moment, the harsh silver of a dagger gleaming in the sunlight. 

That was all Marzia needed to push her back towards the oak tree, keeping her gaze fixed on the knife all the while. 

“Go back!” she whispered frantically, shoving her back towards the trunk. “He’ll try to hurt the tree!” 

She knew that what she was saying was true, but she still couldn’t help the desperate thought that asked if the target would fall on her if Monika was gone. 

Despite her warning though, Monika never moved, looking between the man and Marzia for a second longer before she grabbed her hand and yanked her along as she darted into the woods. 

Marzia shrieked when she heard the deep yell and heavy footfalls chasing after them, only kept on her feet by the iron grip Monika had on her wrist. 

“Monika!” Marzia’s voice grew shrill with panic, a cacophony of noises and adrenaline she never wanted to hear surrounding her. “Monika, he’ll hurt you!” 

But Monika never even stopped for a second, sprinting through the clusters of trees as she dragged Marzia behind her all the while. 

Marzia’s head was spinning, lost in the pounding of her heart and the aching of her legs until the pain blended into desperation, sweeping her into her own mind until she had no idea where she was any longer. 

“Monika, please!” Her eyes stung with tears that had yet to fall, a scream tearing itself from her throat before she could clamp it back down. “Go back!” 

But she never paused, not even when bloody red lines started to bleed through her robes, staining the white fabric with a never-ending flow of deep crimson. She gritted her teeth and occasionally let out a sharp hiss, but Monika never stopped running and Marzia could do nothing to make her. 

It was only when she stumbled, letting out a strangled yell as she jerked her leg up, did Monika ever halt for even a moment. But Marzia had no time to get her to slow down, to convince her to go back, to find out what had caused her to stop, because in the next second, Monika was already tearing through the forest once again. 

When the sound of their pursuer behind them and the damage that he had surely done to the oak tree faded away completely, Monika finally slowed to a stop. 

She released her grip on Marzia’s wrist, turning to meet her eyes for just a second before she swayed to the side and collapsed. 

Marzia was down on her knees as soon as she hit the ground, hands fluttering around her torn clothes with no idea on how to heal them. 

“You’ll be fine,” she mumbled, desperation forcing her hope out in a final resort. “You’ll be fine. You just need to get back to the tree. You can heal there. You just need to get back. I can get you back there.” 

But something was wrong. 

That small voice whispered the problem that she could find no solution to over and over again in a looping echo. 

Something was wrong, wrong, wrong and Marzia didn’t know how to fix it. 

Her eyes scanned over Monika’s body over and over, searching for the missing link within the mess of fabric and blood. 

And she nearly missed it for how small it was, something so small that it shouldn’t have mattered at all. 

But the second she saw the twin punctures on Monika’s ankle, small enough to be nothing more than a prick from a needle, Marzia felt her blood run cold. 

Wounds could be healed with time, but time would only push poison to run its course. 

“Monika.” Her voice already started to waver, hushed reassurances and undesirable truths battling to be spoken only to be silenced when she could barely bring herself to say either. “Monika.” 

That was all she could bring herself to speak, but there was nothing else she needed to say when she looked down at Monika and saw the acceptance deep within the pained expression on her face. Her breath came out in ragged pants, letting out a deep groan as she brought one hand up to rest on her chest, a useless attempt at staunching the blood. 

And Marzia could do nothing to help her, could do nothing but watch as Monika struggled to win a losing battle. She reached out, crawling towards her until she could pull Monika’s head up to rest on her lap, brushing the messy blonde locks out of her face. 

It was all she could do now.

But Monika let out a huff, clenching her eyes shut for a moment before she opened them to meet Marzia’s once more.

“Marzia,” she said quietly, “could you sing for me?”

Marzia wasn’t even sure if she could speak at that point, but she forced herself to take a shaky breath as she smiled down at Monika. 

“Of course.” 

The song that came from her was unlike one that the world had seen. 

Grief entwined with love wrapped around each wavering note, a goodbye she had to pry from the heart that refused to let Monika go. No matter how much she tried to weave the soothing melodies that she had made so many times before, the music that left her betrayed her in the time that she needed its comfort the most. 

But Monika only closed her eyes to take in Marzia’s final gift, relaxing into her hold as Marzia’s broken song wrapped around them both. 

Marzia forced herself to sing until Monika’s hand finally fell, sinking into her lap with no strength left to hold herself up and no life left to let her listen to the last note. 

And for that she was grateful as she held her dead lover in her arms, her unsteady melody breaking into a shrill scream that shattered her world with grief for that which her song would never be able to return.

[kenzierose53]

Promises (xxi)

I got this idea when I was listening to Epic III the other day. I get so captivated when everyone starts to join in with him, the harmonies are just so beautiful. Listening to it I started to picture this scene with everyone joining in with him, bringing back the confidence.

- MaKenzie ❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The hype of my return died down after a few days and I was able to return to work. Hermes was more than happy to put me back to work; he was even allowing me to go back to bartending. From what I learned, Orpheus took over for me when I was gone. That surprised me, he was never really a big drinker. "I took it up because it was something that you loved to do, I wanted to stay connected to you somehow."

Orpheus went back to doing more bussing and helping me at the bar sometimes. This decision wasn't the smartest of Hermes at times. With Orpheus and I behind the bar top, we got distracted at times. Thankfully no one complains about us sharing tender moments, everyone is just happy we have reunited.

There is one person who complains though, Sofia. Having to work with her has been difficult, every second I want to rip her a new one for checking out my poet. Her snide remarks she makes causes my anger to spike. Orpheus has gotten good at sensing when I am about to snap. He will rush over to me and pull me off to the side to calm down. Without him, I'm sure that I would have already fought the girl.

I have kept my mouth shut about the issues I have with her, even with Orpheus' consistent pleading. As much as I hate to admit it, this girl does know how to cook and it's been really profitable for Hermes, I would hate to ruin that for him.

Thankfully I have yet to meet Orpheus' mother, from what I have heard I have a feeling I am not going to get along with her either. Even though it is his mother, she doesn't sound like she has his best interest in mind but I would have to meet her before I know for sure.

"What's on your mind girl?" Persephone's voice broke me from my thoughts. She sat across me from me, a smile on her face. "That girl giving you trouble again?" I told her about the issues I had with Sofia because she had seen me about to punch the girl. She understands why I won't tell Hermes, even if she disagrees with me.

"No I am actually thinking about his mother," I started to grab the ingredients to make her drink. She raised an eyebrow at me, we haven't talked about his mother since it was said she had returned. "I'm just so worried about meeting her. I know that her relationship with Orpheus isn't great but she is still his mom. I have to make a good impression on her, after what I have planned for our future, I want her to feel okay with me being with him. I shouldn't be trying for her approval but it bothers me so much that she hates me already," Persephone sipped on her drink, listening to every word. "I just want to prove her wrong! Prove to her that I am good enough for her boy," I felt more determined to prove her wrong, but it wasn't just for her I wanted to prove her wrong.

I wanted to prove to myself that I was even good enough for him. No matter how much he assures me that I am good enough for him, I still don't feel worthy. He's just such an amazing person, so kind, passionate, selfless. Who am I to deserve him?

"You know you are more than enough for him," her voice was calm, reassuring. "You shouldn't have to seek approval from his mother. She may be his biological family but she isn't his real family. If you feel like you need approval from any if would be from Hermes. You already know how much Hermes adores you two," she reached out and placed her hand over mine, squeezing slightly. "You know the poet adores you," her voice was teasing.

I lifted my gaze from her to find my poet. When I found him, my heart warmed. He was over talking to Hermes, a large smile on his face. The both of them looked to be engaged in a serious conversation about something that was making them both happy. Laughter fell from both of their lips, Hermes pulling Orpheus into an embrace.

Hazel eyes found mine from across the bar, a sparkle in them. He pulled away from Hermes, excusing himself. With such determination in his step, he made his way over to me. He took a seat next to Persephone, that smile still present. "And what can I get you, sir?" I made my voice flirty in an attempt to tease him.

A slight blush covered his face, I love the effect I have on him. "Are you on the menu?" I couldn't help but laugh at his lame pick-up line. Still, I leaned across the bar quickly capturing his lips, completely ignoring everyone around us. "You are in a good mood, what were you and Hermes talking about?" I reached down and got him a glass of water, the perspiration on his brow indicating he was hot.

He accepted the water with a smile, taking a large gulp. "We were talking about you," I almost choked when he said this. He said it so bluntly, confidently. A small laugh fell from his lips at my reaction. His large hand came and rested over mine, "We were just discussing how happy we are to have you back." Something in his expression told me that there was more to the story than just this but I wasn't going to push.

"We are all glad she is back poet," Persephone's voice reminded us she was still here. She lifted her glass slightly, indicating she wanted more. Reluctantly I pulled away from Orpheus and stated to refill her glass. "So are you going to sing for us tonight?" she sounded hopeful, pleading almost. He loves to play for us all, why would she sound like this?

He stiffed slightly at her question. I went over to grip his hand, rubbing circles with my thumb. His body relaxed slightly at this but there was still a slightly panicked look in his eyes. "I haven't played in over a year," his voice was quiet, haunted. Music was always something that turned to when he needed guidance through tough times. It was one of the most important things in his life. I just figured that he hasn't played since I got home was because we were spending so much time together. "I don't know if I am any good anymore," he sounded almost on the verge of tears.

His head hung low, refusing to look at either of us. Persephone shot me a pleading look like she was begging me to fix this. "Orpheus," my voice was soft, hoping that I could coax him to look up. When he refused to look up I continued, "Your music is the most beautiful this world has ever known." He peered at me through his hair, my hand brushed aside the fallen hair before resting on his cheek. "Your music is what brought back spring, brought the world back into tune," nothing that I was saying was seeming to make a difference.

"Your music drew me to you," at this, he perked up slightly. "Watching you put so much passion in your music is one of the most beautiful things I have seen. Hearing the emotion and thought you put into every piece is captivating. I love your music," I paused, his head finally looking up, "I miss it. Can you sing for me?"

Slowly his nerves seemed to calm down, the saddens he felt disappearing. His hand cradled the hand that rested on his cheek. He gripped the hand pulling from his cheek, placing his lips on the knuckles. My heart fluttered at the gesture. "If you want me to sing then I will," the confidence in his voice a stark difference from how he was less than five minutes ago.

He excused himself to go talk to Hermes, before disappearing up the stairs. I wasn't sure what he was doing but the bar was starting to pick up making it impossible for me to go see. The music picked up, the chatter growing in volume, the energy in the bar changing. Persephone kept me company while I struggled to keep up with the number of people here.

"If I were you I would hurry up. You would hate to be a disappointment to everyone," Sofia's snide remark caused me to freeze in my tracks. By this time in the day, the food service was ending and she was in charge of checking on patrons and bringing dirty glasses.

I was about to snap at her when Persephone turned to the girl with a glare, "You know girl you should be nicer. Eurydice could have you pulled from this job with a snap of her fingers." Sofia's glare deepened before she stomped off. "Why can't you just tell Hermes so she can go?" Persephone sounded annoyed, that's how most people are after dealing with that girl.

"I already told you why," I kept my tone dismissive not wanting to continue talking about her. Persephone excused herself from the bar to go socialize. Finally, the crowd started to die down, I was able to take a moment and breath. I poured myself a shot, downing it no problem. The familiar burn on the liquid was soothing, calming.

"Uh, hi everyone," my poet's voice rang through the loud bar. The conversation died down, all focus on Orpheus now. He stood on the stage looking quite nervous. Normally when he is on stage he is confident, comfortable but right now he looks like he could pass out. "I am going to be up here performing for you all tonight," the crowd erupted in cheers.

Orpheus used to perform for everyone all the time but from what he said it's been a year since the community has heard his voice. Someone laid a hand on my shoulder causing me to jump. "Go on up there and support your poet," Hermes pushed me out from behind the bar with a smile on his face.

As I made my way to the front a nervous laugh escaped the poet. When we locked eyes, he seemed to relax a bit, a smile gracing his face. "I am going to sing the song that brought back spring," his voice wavered a bit. From the look in his eyes, I can see the memories flooding through his mind.

Persephone came up to be gripping my hand in hers, a look of shock on her face. Neither of us had heard the song since the day he sang it in Hadestown. The whole crowd was captivated at the first strum of the guitar. A hush fell over the crowd as he began to sing. His tone wavered a bit at the beginning.

When Persephone's name was mentioned, a small sniffle came from her. Looked at her I saw that a few tears fell from her cheeks. I pulled her into my arms, proving what comfort I could. "And I know how it was because he was like me," his eyes caught mine, my heart started to beat even faster, "a man, in love with a woman."

He paused there, his eyes never leaving mine. The panic in his eyes showed me that he was about to break. I mouthed "I love you" while nodded at him. After taking a deep breath he continued. As the song went on he was slowly letting go more and more. The constant glances towards my way made my heart happy. This was just as much our song as Hades and Persephone's.

Without realizing what I was doing I had started to sing with him. His eyes lit up when he realized that I was singing with him. Persephone joined in with us, the tears still falling from her eyes. With every word, the rest of the bar was joining in on our singing.

The look of wonder and amazement covering my poet's face when he realized everyone was singing with him was something I won't forget. The melody overtook the bar, lifting any tensions, nerves that anyone had. I couldn't fight the smile on my face seeing our community so supportive, so captivated by the poet.

The sound of cheering was deafening when he finished. He gazed out upon the crowd in amazement, he didn't realize that this song affected everyone. When we locked eyes, I thought I was going to cry, he looked so happy, so proud of himself. The amount of pride I had in him was overwhelming. He was truly amazing.

His hand was outstretched towards me, without hesitation I let him pull me flush with him. We didn't care that we were in front of everyone, right now it was only us. He leaned down resting his forehead against mine, "I may have brought the world back into tune but you brought me back into tune."

[thepassivewitness]

PrThe thing of it is ....

... when you realize that you found someone that you want to spend forever with ... you want forever to start as soon as possible.

That’s the counterpoint.

It is such a narrow path to navigate between overkill, like too much sun or too much water on your favourite plant ... too much of either will burn it to death ... or drown it to death.

That is MY weakness.

I have this knee jerk reaction and this intensity that, for the most part, I have been able to slowly bring under control over the years ... but every now and then .... the power and release when something truly spectacular ... the potential for “IT” to be RIGHT THERE?! .... 

.... it’s like training to react a specific way ... and slowly in training you progress .. and move slowly ever forward and control establishes itself .... 

... much like my job. I FIGHT to keep myself in check. To not talk too fast, because I will. To NOT run into the scene, because I would, to KEEP my voice slow ... calm .... unchanged ... uhphased .... to FORCE my hands ... arms .. legs to not shake ....

... it is a MASSIVE effort to keep all those things in check and fight off the adrenaline.

But every now and then .. even now ... a call will come in and all my composure will be for not. ESPECIALLY if I haven’t had big calls coming in or ANY calls coming in. With every call comes a rhythm .. a practice ... and an exercising of my self control, and with the exercise and experience comes proficiency.

I will race, talk, rampage, and basically .... do a piss poor job of self control until I get to a place where I recognize it and fight it down.

It doesn’t happen often ... but it has ... and it could.

The same happens in my heart.

When something truly amazing comes along ... and keep in mind that it has been years since something amazing has happened.

The last several attempts over the decades have gone all over the place ... some have been toxic toward me ... some have been poor fits ... some have been my irresponsibility in youth ... some have been just .... plain .... fails.

So when something amazing is suddenly, unexpectedly, yet undeniably there .... my abilities ... well .. they are keenly rusty.

I want to live every moment I can ... be all that I am and can be ... without reserve and without restriction.

I want to explore, share, enjoy, communicate ad nauseum ... and, of COURSE, I want forever to start as soon as possible.

Trick is ... that is just me.

The fact is that things have to be allowed to breathe ... to adjust ... to get used to ... and to accept me in their space ... to see me in the same way as I do them, and to want me as much as I do them.

Ideally, that would be as instant for them as for myself, but not necessarily so.

And so ... trying to wait in silence ... in the dark.

It is like the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice ... where he has the chance to have her back with him for the rest of their lives ... maybe even forever ... but he has to NOT look for her ... NOT turn around to see her ... for the long walk back to the surface and the sunlight.

All he can hear is silence ... not a sound ... not a clue of her actually being there with him or behind him ... finally ... just on the very cusp of the daylight ... he turns to look for her .... but a fraction too soon .... and he loses her forever.

It can be that frail ... and when you are talking about THE right person ... or THE right thing ... or THE right set of events ... well ..... *soft sigh*

... that would be a tragic loss.

So what to do?

Obviously pace myself, but that is far easier said than done.

And if already overstepped ... how to recover?

It is a fine line between out of control and regaining of control

Again, obviously, give space ... that is a no-brainer ... but the other thought that occurs to me ... is to ask for help ... ask to get assistance to keep things on the level ... and to help navigate ... to recognize the weakness ... and to help craft and support in all directions until one has the strength again, and the control again, to manage the situation .... and certainly to manage self.

There is much more, of course ... but those are initial steps that are in need, no doubt, to be taken.

Food for thought, definitely.

Billy Crystal, Meg Ryan, Movie: When Harry Met Sally - New Years Eve Scene