Archive of Our Own ^beta

1. key

Thanatos sighed, closing his eyes before willing himself to appear before Zagreus, whose presence he had sensed nearby. He steeled himself, taking a deep breath, preparing to see him again. 

The pain of their reunion was still fresh. The prince’s sudden departure — without even a single mention to Thanatos, with whom he was closest to growing up — the feeling it brought lingered in Thanatos’s mind. It felt almost like a betrayal. But Thanatos knew, deep in his heart, that he could never stay mad at Zagreus. He was dear to Thanatos’s heart, no matter how much he would deny it.

(And he knew Zagreus held him in the same high regard. His betrayal was never to intentionally make him feel this pain. He knew that, but it still hurt. Just a little bit.)

He never really liked Asphodel when it was a barren wasteland, but now that it was flooded with lava, he disliked the place even more . Why he had to sense the prince's presence here, of all the realms of the Underworld, he doesn't know. 

(He pushed the annoyance down. Zagreus needed his help — he could feel it. Like something was calling him, drawing him closer. He didn't understand why, but he accepted it all the same.)

He heard a soft "Than…!" before materializing before the prince, a scowl on his face. He was met with a wide grin from Zagreus, blood dripping from a noticeably sizable wound on his cheek. 

"You — Zagreus, your face." Thanatos hovered closer, two fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as he cut the distance between them. He stared down at him. "Reckless fool. What happened?"

"Just another wretch in Tartarus." Zagreus wiped off the blood from his cheek, still with that obnoxiously large — and rather uplifting, though Thanatos would never say that aloud — smile on his face. "It's good to see you."

Thanatos remained silent for a few beats, unsure of what to say. Eventually, he relented, sighing as he took hold of his scythe, drawing it in a battle stance. "It's good to see you too." He sighed, rather exasperatingly, avoiding Zagreus's eyes. Though, from the corner of his eye, he could see that the prince had noticeably brightened. "We can catch up later. Let's deal with these first."

"Right." Zagreus nodded. Today, he held a bow in his hands – why Zagreus would ever choose to wield a bow, he didn't know. Zagreus always seemed like the reckless, straightforward, brutal type to him, not someone with that would match the poise and elegance of a bow. Still, he didn't dislike the sight. It was a nice change of pace from seeing Zagreus leap around with his sword, hacking and slashing like there was no tomorrow. 

As Zagreus nocked an arrow through the bowstring, Thanatos drew his scythe in a swift, twisting motion with one hand, unsheathing his sword in the other. At the center of both weapons was a glowing, purple orb, resembling that of an ominous eye. He rather liked the detail; it was intimidating, yes, but it also symbolized death — always watching, always there. An eye that oversaw all.

The trial of the chamber started shortly; the wretches of Asphodel appeared in glowing circles on the ground. Thanatos and Zagreus worked as one; scythe and arrow, slash and shot. It was still a competition, of course, but Thanatos watched the serious expression on Zagreus's face, the concentrated, determined glint in his eyes as he fired each arrow with the practiced precision of a skilled hunter. He watched as the prince would look towards him shortly after he eliminated each one, nodding at him as they met eyes before continuing to battle. 

It was as if they've done this countless times. Another simple job that they shared, a friendly pastime. It was like they've never been apart from each other; still with that same sense of familiarity. They made up for what the other one lacked in, they complemented each other, made each other whole.

(What an uncharacteristically idyllic way of thinking for Death. That he may be connected to someone in ways he could not explain.)

As the trial ended, the reward for the chamber appeared between the two of them; a shining chthonic key. 

Zagreus walked closer and took the key into his hands, eyeing it for a while before looking at Thanatos with a confused expression on his face. "I've always wondered what these were." He said, holding the key between his index and thumb and bringing it towards the leaking light of the lava.

Thanatos shrugged. "It's exactly what it is — a key. The only thing unique about them is that they turn into dust as soon as they’re used, then reform somewhere within the depths of the Underworld. Like here."

He paused for a moment. "But I heard from a while back…” Thanatos leaned closer, looking over Zagreus's shoulder. He eyed the center of the key; it held the same eye-like, purple orb in Thanatos's weapons. "There were some keys that were special enough not to disintegrate when used. They were rumored to be symbols of good luck. I'm not exactly sure how that rumor started, though." 

"Huh. That’s interesting.” Zagreus said, twisting the key in his hand. “Honestly, it reminds me of you, in a way — “ 

As he spoke, Zagreus looked to his side, just over his shoulder. Their faces were so close — too close, in fact, that Thanatos could almost feel Zagreus's breath on his face — and instinctively Thanatos moved away. He resisted the urge to clamp a hand over his face. 

(Asphodel was already boiling hot. That, Thanatos could withstand. The feel of Zagreus near him, their faces only inches away — that warmth was overwhelming. Thanatos wouldn't dare to comprehend why. Subconsciously, he knew the reason. Consciously, he didn't want to acknowledge it.)

Zagreus cleared his throat. It was clear he was eager to change the topic. Thanatos shared his intention. "This — this is the first key I've gotten with you."

"... And?"

"And I want you to have it." Zagreus said, firm in his answer. Thanatos was stunned— not because he was surprised, not because it was too valuable of a gift — he was simply confused. A common chthonic key? As a gift?

(He appreciated the thought, of course. It's Zagreus, of all people — he was, undoubtedly, the most sincere person he knew. Still, it was … a key. What exactly was he going to do with it?

Oh, well. Thanatos doesn't mind indulging him a little.)

"... Sure, but why?" Thanatos asked. He reached for the key in Zagreus's hand, but he swiftly moved it away from his reach. 

"Wait, wait. Maybe I can make it a bit more special." Zagreus placed a hand under his chin in deep thought, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. The idea soon came to him, and he reached above his head, closing his eyes as he plucked a fiery, orange leaf from the laurel that rested in the tufts of his hair. Zagreus held the leaf by one end and willed it to extend, creating a small stem. 

In a delicate motion, he tied the leaf around the blade of the small key, then handed it to Thanatos. "There. So that you know it comes from me." 

( Now , Thanatos truly was speechless. What a silly notion, a keepsake from his dearest friend. And it was just one of many arbitrary, chthonic keys, which likely had no significance or luck imbued within it.)

(He loved it. He truly did.)

Thanatos pursed his lips, choosing his words carefully, as the small gift was placed into his waiting hands. " … I appreciate it." (I love it.) "... Thank you." (I'll treasure it.)

Zagreus grinned — wholeheartedly, truly happy and grateful. His mismatched eyes were shining. "Maybe it'll bring you good luck."

Thanatos eyed the key in his hands. He closed his fingers around the small trinket, gently pressing it into his palm. "Maybe." He mumbled. He resisted the pull of a small smile at the corner of his lips. 

(He doubted it would bring him luck at all, but Zagreus had seemed so hopeful, he was tempted to believe him.)

"I'll see you at home, Than." Zagreus said. He smiled up at him. "Farewell for now?"

"Farewell for now." He said, nodding. He held the key close to his heart and nodded. He managed to catch the sight of Zagreus waving before he disappeared.

(There's a small note attached to the side of a certain prince's Mirror of Darkness. It reads:

Maybe get him a better present next time.)

…..

2. nectar

"So … he gave you a key. That's incredibly … well, nothing." 

Megaera's hollow voice sounded as uninterested as ever, as she rolled her eyes at Thanatos's story. She crossed her arms, leaning forward with her elbows on the small table. 

"It's thoughtful." Thanatos mindlessly said, as he pulled out a small string from underneath the folds of his chiton. Along with it, hung by the end of the purple thread, was the key Zagreus had given to him, in perfectly good condition. The leaf that was tied around its blade still glowed with fiery life. 

Megaera scoffed as Thanatos held up the key between the two of them. "Thoughtful. Right. Well, you can have all of Zag's 'thoughtful' gifts to yourself."

Thanatos sighed, pocketing the small key. "I – honestly, I can't tell what's wrong with me these days. It is just a key. I'm making an incredibly big deal out of it, and I can't stop thinking about … " Another sigh.

Megaera raised an eyebrow. "You really haven't put the pieces together?"

Thanatos glared at her, golden eyes narrowed at the Fury's expression. "If I have , I wouldn't be talking to you, would I? I'd appreciate it if you would point such things to me, if they were so obvious to you."

She snorted, a half-laugh. "You're smart, Thanatos. You'll figure it out."

Just then, a distant splash echoed through the main hall, followed by the sound of unintelligible grumbling. Then came the voice of Hypnos: "[REDACTED] again, huh? Well, you'll get 'em next time!"

Megaera cleared her throat. "Well, that's my sign to leave. Good luck dealing with your prince, Thanatos."

" My?"

Thanatos was able to catch the glimpse of a smirk at the corner of the Fury's lips before she turned around to leave, heel clacks echoing through the lounge. He sighed, exasperatedly, contemplating if he should leave or not – before a certain dark-haired, red-and-green-eyed, fiery prince appeared to make the decision for him.

"Than!" Zagreus exclaimed, a smile on his face. Thanatos flinched, ever-so-slightly, at the sight of him. 

"Zag," He acknowledged, as he placed an arm on the table, propping it up to hold the side of his face. "You seem enthusiastic. Was your death particularly joyful?"

"No, just happy to see you."

Thanatos blinked at the direct proclamation. He tried to hide the surprise in his face, but it was clear that a golden flush had started to spread across his cheeks.

(Strangely, he felt an indescribable warmth rush through him. His heart also beat a little faster. It was almost overwhelming. All because of a sincere statement. All because it came from Zagreus.)

Zagreus walked over to him, and as he did, Thanatos noticed the way his hands were hidden behind his back, as if hiding something from his view. He seemed eager not for Thanatos to look, which only raised more suspicion. 

"Can I sit here?" Zagreus pointed towards the chair opposite to him. 

"...Alright."

Zagreus beamed at him before taking his seat, hands still behind his back. It seems whatever it was he was hiding, it made him incredibly happy. The smile on his face was almost infectious, his eyes shining with more gleefulness than usual. (Zagreus's demeanor always seemed to lift Thanatos's spirits, because unbeknownst to him, he shared some of that excited anticipation that Zagreus carried on his face. It was a nice feeling, sharing happiness with someone.)

(For now, though, he would hide that enthusiasm, tucked away in his heart.)

Thanatos raised an eyebrow. "You're more … annoyingly cheerful than usual."

"I got you something," Zagreus blurted out, clearly unable to hold himself back from keeping it a secret. He seemed to have remembered something, as a subtle, crimson blush appeared on his cheeks. "And it's not a key this time, I promise. Sorry, now that I think about it – that was a little … out of nowhere, was it?"

"It was," Thanatos said. Then, he shook his head, "But I don't mind."

"Even if it was just a key?"

Thanatos sighed. "Yes. I still have it." His hand subconsciously slid towards the small space in the folds of his clothes that held the trinket. He felt the groove of its blade, the odd sense of warmth it brought him. "Now, are you going to tell me what you have behind your back, or are we going to stay in the lounge until I'm called for work?"

"I'll tell you. Here." Zagreus grinned at him, before bringing his hands between them to reveal … a bottle of nectar.

It has been ages since Thanatos had seen such a bottle, and he was mesmerized by it all the same. The golden liquid that swirled inside the beautifully-crafted, spherical bottle was shining, almost blindingly bright. The top of the bottle – a golden stopper, of some sort – had, around it, a purple ribbon tied neatly in a bow. 

Nectar; the drink of the gods. A luxury only few could get their hands on. 

… And a luxury that was forbidden within the House.

"... Zagreus. This is illegal."

Zagreus's smile fell – though, it was more akin to a disappointed pout than a scornful frown. "I know that. But – " Zagreus sighed, trying for a smile once again. He gazed at the bottle, red and green eyes reflecting on the surface of the glass. "I was willing to take the risk. You deserve a more precious gift than my last."

Thanatos stayed silent for a moment, unsure of what to do. The echo of his heartbeat rang throughout his body; an almost-deafening sound that overwhelmed his senses. 

(He was willing to take the risk. For him .)

He knew Zagreus did not care much for his Father's punishment. At least – that was how he acted. He knew part of him was scared of him, deep down; he's only learned to live with that fear, to take it as will to strive forward. But still – going through all this trouble, finding a bottle of precious nectar in the endless labyrinth of the Underworld – that was no easy task. And it was certainly no small feat to bring it to the House, fearlessly, where it was forbidden. 

(Who was he to refuse such a precious gift?)

Thanatos, slowly, reached for the bottle, cupping it with his hands. His fingers brushed against the prince's, barely feeling the warmth of his hand, before he brought the bottle to himself. He stared at it, transfixed on his faint reflection in the glass. 

Flustered. He was incredibly flustered. He looked at his expression, observing it carefully.

This … this looked like .. 

(From a while back, when he first fell in love with the prince. He though he had lost the feelings, but it seems … )

"You're smart, Thanatos, you'll figure it out." Megaera's voice rang through his head.

(Oh – Oh gods.)

He pursed his lips. What was he supposed to say, now that he had just come to this realization? A realization, that, frankly, he should have put together a long time ago, but had subconsciously ignored, or maybe avoided for a long time. 

Thanatos opened his mouth to speak, though his throat felt dry and hollow. "I, Zag – " 

"If you're worried about getting caught, I'll take the blame." Zagreus added quickly, almost tripping over his words. Thanatos looked up at the prince, who was having trouble deciding whether he should look at Thanatos or the bottle of nectar. He placed a hand behind his neck. "You don't have to worry about getting reprimanded by my Father, or anything like that – "

"Zag," Thanatos interrupted him, instinctively putting a hand on the prince's wrist. He almost winced at the sudden contact, but he forced himself to stay calm. 

Zagreus stopped and looked at him, eyes determined and waiting for his words. "I – thank you. Really." He managed to say, giving him a curt nod. 

The smile returned on Zagreus's face. "Does this mean you won't refuse it, and won't turn me over to Meg, or anything like – "

"Yes," Thanatos said, sighing in exasperation. "I won't do any of that."

Zagreus's expression changed to one of momentary surprise, before softening back to a kind grin. He looked genuinely happy – it was a warm, welcoming sight to see; Zagreus and his bright demeanor. Thanatos couldn't deny just how much it relieved him to see Zagreus smile. 

"That's great!" Zagreus beamed, a little too loudly for the empty lounge. He looked around, sheepishly, before clearing his throat. "I mean – yeah. I'm glad you like it."

(Of course I do. It's from you, after all.)

"Is this … your first?" Thanatos asked. 

Zagreus nodded. "Yep. I'm planning to give nectar all around the House but – I wanted you to have the first one. You've been my … friend for the longest time, after all."

(Ah. Yes, his best friend, since childhood. That's all this was. That's all there was to it. This could all just mean nothing … right? Nothing more than … what they were right now.)

(Why did he, Thanatos, the uncaring God of Death, feel a small twinge of disappointment at his words? Just a fleeting sense of longing, a passing feeling of wanting more.)

Perhaps this was going to affect him more than he anticipated. He pushed the feeling down for now, the growing sense of strange unease, and cleared his throat.

"I'm honored," Thanatos said, as casually as he could. "Thank you, truly. I – I'll cherish it."

Zagreus's expression softened; a look of tender gentleness replacing his cheery grin. The look in his eyes was something Thanatos could never look away from, that beautiful glint in his mismatched red and green. 

(Zagreus was truly beautiful.)

Perhaps he would get him something, someday. Zagreus deserved a gift from Thanatos as well. He had already given the prince his special keepsake, the Pierced Butterfly, to give him godly strength during his battles in the Underworld. But Thanatos felt it was lacking — that keepsake was a necessity, not a sentimental gift.

Memories took him back to an unfinished project of his, back when he was still a young god: a miniature version of the butterfly. It was intended as nothing more than a thoughtful gift, not a keepsake of chthonic power. It was miniscule, but amazingly detailed, handcrafted by Death himself. It sat somewhere within Thanatos’s room, long unfinished. 

(Perhaps one day, he would finish the trinket and give it to its intended recipient: a certain prince who sat right across from him, who was smiling kindly at him, as if they were the only two people in the world.)

Suddenly, a sharp feeling pulled at his back, where his scythe was sheathed, interrupting Thanatos from his thoughts. It started to glow a faint purple light – the signal of his duty. Thanatos stood up, sighing, as he gently pocketed the small bottle. 

"I have to go." He wielded his scythe, holding it by his side. Thanatos nodded at the prince, still seated in his chair, staring at him with his mismatched eyes. "I'll see you out there, Zag."

Zagreus grinned at him. "Looking forward to it."

"One last thing. For the record – "

He brought out the key in his pocket, and held it by the string for Zagreus to see. He watched as his eyes widened, the crimson blush growing darker across his cheeks. The God of Death couldn't help but smile, as he tucked his head to slip the makeshift-necklace around his neck. 

"I don't think this is any less precious than anything you will give me. I'll cherish them both, equally." Thanatos nodded at him. "Goodbye, Zagreus." 

In a flash of haunting green, he was gone.

(There's a small pile of parchment bound together in leather that create some sort of book found next to a certain prince's Fated List of Minor Prophecies. In one page, written in surprisingly-neat handwriting, along with a lengthy paragraph about the author's day, it reads:

He liked it, I think. I hope he did.)

…..

3. flowers

"200 obols for a godly boon? You know he can't afford that, brother." 

Thanatos watched as Charon turned to him, with a rather exasperated look on his ghostly face. Thanatos held his gaze, golden eyes narrowing with smoky purple. After a moment of intent staring, with a hesitant 'hrrrghh', he waved his hand. The price narrowed down to 150. 

"Better," Thanatos bowed towards Charon. "Thank you, brother."

Charon waved his hand, motioning for Thanatos to leave him alone. Thanatos complied, as he floated over to the edge of the River Lethe, watching his reflection in the murky, white waters. 

The chamber he was in was the last one before the Elysian arena, where the Champions of Elysium — Theseus and Asterius — waited. Though he had no intention to watch the brutal battle between the Champions and his prince, it was by that same prince’s request that he wait for him there, for whatever reason.

“How much time do you have right now?” Zagreus had asked him, as soon as the trial ended. 

Thanatos raised an eyebrow as he handed him a Centaur Heart, his prize for winning their little competition. “A little more than usual. Why?” 

“Can you — “ Zagreus looked sheepish, almost shrinking from shyness. Thanatos had never known Zagreus to be shy; his recklessness and bold nature was one of his defining qualities. “Can you wait for me? In Charon’s shop, the chamber before I fight Theseus.”

Thanatos looked skeptical, but shrugged. “What for?”

“…you’ll see.” 

Now, Thanatos was more suspicious. He crossed his arms, sighing. “Alright, I’ll humor you. But don’t keep me waiting for too long.” 

Zagreus beamed at him. He nodded, taking the Centaur Heart in Thanatos’s hands. “I’ll be there, I promise.”

Thanatos ran a hand through his hair, pushing his hood back as he stared at his reflection with an annoyed expression. He couldn’t stop thinking about that prince; his mismatched eyes, his tousled raven hair and fiery laurel, his battle-won scars on his arms. These days, it seemed that Zagreus was all he could ever think about. It didn’t affect his duty, of course — he would never let himself perform poorly in his work — but it didn’t change the fact that every part of him yearned for the prince; yearned to be near him. 

(His undying devotion for the prince was what annoyed him the most. He’d do almost anything Zagreus would ask of him. He’d put the prince’s wellbeing over himself every time. It was astonishing to Thanatos, that he could feel this way about someone. This unyielding, unconditional loyalty.)

(It was different from his loyalty to the house. That was duty-bound and he had no say in such a thing. This was all him. This was his choice, his willing choice — to devote himself to the prince of the Underworld.)

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a chamber door being lifted. In ran Zagreus, a little disheveled than when he last saw him — with his hands behind his back yet again. 

(Not again.)

“Zagreus,” Thanatos regarded him, floating closer to him. “— if this is another bottle of nectar, I have more than plenty from you.”

Zagreus grinned at him, teasingly. “I thought you like the nectar I give you?”

“I do,” He sighed. “But you don’t have to give one every time you see me. Don’t feel obligated to.”

Zagreus laughed, a sound that cleared any tension in the sullen chamber. (Thanatos loved his laugh.) “I assure you that any nectar I give you is out of my own free will, not of any obligation.”

Thanatos couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll believe you for now. So, another surprise poorly hidden behind your back?”

Zagreus nodded. “And it’s not nectar.” 

Thanatos would be lying if he said that he wasn’t looking forward to Zagreus’s gift. He loved each and every one of the prince’s thoughtful gestures, and he solemnly vowed to cherish each one. 

(However, whether Zagreus gave his gifts out of friendship, or something more — he didn’t know. He couldn’t decipher the prince’s intentions, and he felt rather selfish assuming that — maybe, just maybe, his feelings were shared.)

He didn’t dare think that way. For once in his life, he was afraid — of what, exactly? Of hoping. If he let himself believe, what would happen if he was let down?

(But the prince, his demeanor, his silly, thoughtful gifts — he couldn’t help but feel a spark of hope within them. That maybe this wasn’t some lost cause.

Thanatos steeled himself. He had to keep his feelings in check, had to hold himself back from saying or doing anything rash. He wasn’t like Zagreus, reckless and impulsive. “…What is it, then?” His voice was calm, but unusually soft. Quiet for only the two of them to hear.

“Here.”

Thanatos felt his heart drop as Zagreus held in front of him his gift: a small bouquet of Elysian flowers.

Thanatos had seen these flowers almost a thousand times, familiarized himself with every type of blossom and petal, each color and shape. But the rapid beating of his heart in his chest, the golden blush in his cheeks, his widened eyes and the overwhelming warmth he felt — he had never felt this way about these flowers before. Flowers had never made him feel this way before.

(Bouquets were meant as a token of affection, of romantic love. He knew that. And Zagreus wasn’t clueless; Thanatos was certain he knew that as well.)

(There was a determined look in his eyes, a glint of seriousness that wasn’t there before. This was no impulsive decision of his. This was not done out of recklessness. At this very moment, every action of his was intentional.)

He knows. He knows what he’s doing and he means it. 

“I —“ 

Zagreus watched him, carefully. Thanatos could see in his eyes that he was afraid as well — but it was clear that he wouldn’t let his fear stop him from conveying what needed to be conveyed.

“Zagreus —“

Zagreus stepped closer, holding the bouquet between them. Slowly, Thanatos’s hands found their way to the base of the bouquet, where Zagreus’s hands were holding it in place. Gently, Thanatos placed his hands with Zagreus’s, their hands almost intertwined, warmth seeping through the prince’s fingers. 

(What exactly was he feeling? Sadness, relief, joy? A myriad of emotions overwhelmed the God of Death, but only one emotion was clear: love. That was the only thing he was certain about. The warmth he felt, the thoughtfulness, the kindness that came from the prince.)

(He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t find the words to express himself. He needed to think. He can’t be reckless, not now, not ever.)

“Than, I —“

“I — have to go.” Thanatos said, hastily, as Zagreus let go of the bouquet. He carried it in his arms, still eyeing every beautiful blossom. “Th — thank you. I’ll see you.”

“Than, wait —!”

And just like that, he was gone.

(There's a question written at the end of a page in that leather-bound pile of parchment that now sits on a certain prince's bedside table. It reads:

Was that a bit too forward?)

…..

4. decoration

Zagreus should probably be done by now.

Thanatos sheathed his sword, sliding it in its place beside his waist, and closed his eyes. With a sound of a distant bell toll, along with blinding green light, he opened his eyes to the House of Hades, right in the middle of the Main Hall. 

Thanatos finally worked up the courage to put the events of their last meeting aside and see Zagreus again. He didn’t know why he had run away, but he knew that it was incredibly immature of him. He’ll have to deal with these feelings someday. If that day were to be right now, then he would have to accept it.

(He would not run away from the prince. If he couldn’t be himself and express himself with the prince, then he couldn’t with anyone else.)

He floated over to the center of the hall, giving Hypnos a curt nod as he passed by. He bowed in front of Lord Hades and turned left, off to his usual spot in the House.

He passed by the hero Achilles, who was already eyeing him as he drifted closer. The hero's gaze was transfixed on him, as if preparing to strike, almost completely wary. Though, Achilles didn't look angry at him – only uncomfortably observant. Why exactly, he was observing Thanatos, he didn't know. Thanatos was confused, a little skeptical, even, though he didn't dwell on it for very long. 

He was about to pass him, when he heard Achilles take a deep breath, before calling out to the god, "Thanatos, over here. I've … something to tell you."

Thanatos froze, almost flinching. He and Achilles almost never communicated with each other. They'd acknowledge each others' presence – being in the same hall, and all – but nothing more than that. What could Achilles possibly want from him?

Still, he complied, floating closer to the shade. He tried to keep his expression as even as possible, as to not intimidate him. 

"Yes…?"

"The lad, Zagreus." Achilles started. His eyes darted over to his right, to the direction of the balcony. Thanatos raised an eyebrow. "He's been quite busy over there, at your place. I don't know what he's up to … but just in case, I would have you know, he's worked really hard on it."

Thanatos glanced over to his balcony, though his view was blocked by the ornamental statues placed in the middle of the hall. He turned his gaze back to Achilles. "...Really?"

Achilles nodded. "I would suggest … and this is but my humble opinion, O Death, but … don't feel guilty about receiving it. I do not know if you are the kind to feel such a way, when given an elaborate gift, but … I thought, it would not hurt to take precautions. The lad would be hurt if you were not to accept."

Thanatos was for a loss of words, unsure of what to say. It hasn’t been long since their … last encounter. Just what exactly had Zagreus been up to, when he was gone? And was it really that … grandiose?

Thanatos pushed the growing number of questions down, and simply nodded, pursing his lips as the grip on his scythe tightened. "Alright. I'll keep that in mind."

Achilles smiled at him; a good-natured, warm smile, one of gratefulness. He bowed deeply, blond curls spilling from behind him. "Thank you for hearing me out." He said, softly. He nodded once more, and Thanatos took this as a sign to be on his way.

Thanatos made his way towards the balcony of the Western Hall, reigning in his nervous anticipation. As soon as his view was unobstructed, Thanatos froze midair, halting to a stop. 

The balcony was decorated . And not just with simple decorations; no, Zagreus had made the place into a miniature lounge. And if that wasn't over-the-top enough, it was all in Thanatos's favorite colors and themes, all purple and deathlike. 

Thanatos inched closer, letting himself drop onto the ground to feel the soft rug beneath his feet. To the wall was a small, purple recliner, coupled with a golden, soft cushion and a small stool. It was adorned by golden pillars on each side, radiating a subtle, warm light and illuminating the area. By the edge of the balcony – where Thanatos often stood – was a stone table. Placed upon it were a few sheets of parchment bound in leather, along with some golden vases that were filled with water, and a golden box that was neatly filled with beautiful, red flowers. 

Thanatos found himself staring at the flowers for quite some time. He took a step closer and reached for the floral box, letting a soft petal rest on his fingers. He smoothed out the petals with his thumb as gently as he could. 

Thanatos was never quite familiar with flowers. Flowers were Lady Persephone's domain, especially those that came from the mortal world. These flowers were full of life – vibrant, delicate blossoms that Thanatos had never dared to touch, in fear of what would happen to their life if he did. 

(But here they were, right in front of him, blooming with life, in the depths of the Underworld. They seemed to be surviving just fine.)

Thanatos was also not well-versed in the language of flowers. Lady Persephone always mentioned how each flower symbolized a message of some sort, from the giver to the receiver. Such a message would be up to the receiver to decipher and interpret, as some flowers often shared a myriad of different meanings.

(What did these flowers mean? Perhaps, someday, he would ask the Lady. Or better yet, Zagreus himself.)

His thoughts strayed to their previous encounter, the bouquet he received from Zagreus. He had a lot of time to think since then, about how he felt about Zagreus, and about how Zagreus might feel in return. 

(He didn’t want to be afraid anymore.)

He pushed the thoughts aside and brought himself back to the present. That stubborn prince, he did this all for him. It was a gesture far too resplendent, far too kind. But he loved it all the same. 

(He hoped Zagreus didn’t feel guilty about his last gift. He hoped this wasn’t some kind of elaborate apology. Zagreus had nothing to apologize for.)

Thanatos sighed, letting go of the flowers, and taking his place near the edge of the balcony. He rested his arms atop the railing and watched the River Styx, waiting to hear a familiar splash.

And soon it came, followed by a distant, almost indistinguishable voice: "Well, that was pretty good, all in all." It didn't take long for the sound of nearby footsteps to echo throughout the almost-silent hall. 

Soon enough, the rugged prince was beside him, hair tousled and eyes shining. He stood beside Thanatos, his back against the railings, leaning backwards to look at him. He had that usual, cheerful grin on his face, one that Thanatos could never look away from. 

"You're not floating today." Zagreus noted, smiling.

Thanatos placed a hand behind his neck. "I had to … bask in these new gifts you got me."

Zagreus's cheeks and the tips of his ears flushed a soft red, though he still retained the grin on his face. His eyes darted away from Thanatos, a little shy. After a beat of silence, Thanatos heard him take a deep breath. "... Do you like it?" He mumbled. 

"...Mm." Thanatos nodded, avoiding the prince’s stare. His gaze softened, eyes half-lidded and longing. Though his answer was quick, he meant it wholeheartedly. "Of course, I do."

"Really?" Zagreus inched closer, an eyebrow raised. Despite the question, he caught the subtle glint of satisfaction in the prince's mismatched eyes. "You're not mad, or anything?"

"Why would I be …" Thanatos sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. He turned to look at the prince, fully facing him, holding his gaze in his eyes. "While I'd prefer you didn't waste such enormous amounts of wealth and resources on me, I'd appreciate anything you'd give me, Zagreus. This is your hard work. I'm honored to receive them as gifts."

(Thanatos, subconsciously, noticed just how easy it was to be direct with his feelings. In the past, he would try to hide whatever kind of appreciation he would have for Zagreus and his gracious deeds, but it seemed as if something had changed within him. Ever since their last encounter, his last gift — there was a comfortability there that wasn't there before, a sense of safety and familiarity that grew between the two of them. And there was only one reason for that: they both knew what feelings they harbored for each other.)

(But neither wanted to acknowledge it. Thanatos was just as guilty as Zagreus was in this. How hard was it to say those three words?)

Zagreus stared at him, blinking a few times in surprise, before breaking away and absentmindedly placing a hand behind his neck. The red in his face grew more vibrant in color.

(Thanatos slightly – very slightly; miniscule, in fact – enjoyed the bloom of red on his face.)

"I'm – well, I just – " Zagreus stammered, occasionally glancing at Thanatos to gauge his reaction. Thanatos raised an eyebrow. "I – I'm glad. You like it, I mean. I'm glad."

"You said that twice," Thanatos said, rolling his eyes, scoffing in sarcastic playfulness. His eyes drifted towards the flower box on the table, to which he reached for once again. "…And the flowers?”

"... Um," Zagreus mumbled. A sheepish smile grew on his face as he followed Thanatos's gaze towards the flowers. "I've been meaning to get you actual flowers, not just the usual ones from Elysium, like … last time. So I got some help from Mother."

Thanatos immediately winced at the mention of "last time" , face flushing gold . Last time, where he was unable to say a word to the prince as he handed him that small bouquet of Elysian blossoms. Last time, where he almost lost his composure trying to get a single word out. Last time, when he quickly muttered an absurd excuse, tripping over his words (quite embarrassingly) and left in a hurry, without time to even say goodbye. 

(Last time, where he found himself back in his quarters in the House, placing a vase on a small table he seemingly had no use for, filling it up with water from the River Lethe and gingerly setting the small bundle of flowers inside.)

Thanatos scolded himself for remaining silent for too long. He really had to find a way to get rid of his habit of drowning in the noise of his thoughts.

"Lady Persephone helped?" Thanatos managed to say.

Zagreus nodded eagerly. “You won't have to repay her. She insisted on saying that to you, because she knew you'd want to." Zagreus stifled a laugh as a faintest golden blush appeared on Thanatos's cheeks. "I didn't know much about flowers, though. She recommended these, I think they're called roses."

(Roses … what a familiar name. Thanatos swore he heard such a name before, from passing mortals in the living world. The meaning of these flowers — it was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t grasp it.)

"I wanted to get purple ones, but …" Zagreus sighed. "They're quite rare, apparently. She recommended red ones, for some odd reason. Anyway, they won't die down here. Mother used her magic on them. I don't know how exactly, but they'll stay alive, as long as you want them to." 

(Now that Thanatos thought about it, the red of the flowers reminded him a lot of Zagreus – blood-red, crimson, full of life. They were so much like him; it pleased him to have a part of Zagreus in his small corner of the House.)

"Thank you." Thanatos muttered, softer than both he and Zagreus would have expected. He felt himself mellow out; gentle warmth blooming throughout his body, the warm he always felt around Zagreus. "Truly. I'll – I'll take good care of them."

(Just like you, I want them to live. And I will care for them until my last breath.)

Thanatos felt Zagreus's heavy gaze on him, completely transfixed and unmoving. He turned around to meet him, to which the prince flinched, looking away. The red on his face grew darker, almost matching the color of the Styx. 

( Say it. Thanatos’s thoughts echoed in his head, his heart beating faster in his chest. Say it, and I’ll say it back.)

"I –“ 

Thanatos held his breath.

Zagreus cleared his throat. “… well. I'm glad you – " Zagreus blinked, chuckling lightly. "I said that already. Right. But – really, you're welcome. This is nothing."

Thanatos narrowed his eyes at him.

"Okay – it was something. But I was willing to do it." The prince smiled, ever so subtly, a contrast to his usual wide grin. His smile was soft and warm, truly genuine. "I'll – I have to go. But – enjoy, alright?" 

(...Maybe the words he was hoping for will come another day. When the time is right, they will both know, and they’ll be true with each other. Thanatos trusted in him. Zagreus shared that trust.)

Thanatos nodded, watching as Zagreus walked away. At the corner of his eye, he saw Zagreus and Achilles share a look, before the prince dashed away, leaving the hallway empty once more. 

(How he truly cherished that prince.)

Thanatos looked towards the Styx once more, watching as the currents ebbed back and forth, with a hand on a delicate rose petal.

(There's a piece of a contract from the House Contractor of the House of Hades that is inserted within the pages of the leather-bound pile of parchment. On the end of it, written beside the sloppy signature of a certain prince, reads:

Next time. I’ll definitely say those words to him. I will, I swear it.)

…..

5. ambrosia

Zagreus had asked them to meet in the garden. 

It was a quiet night in the House of Hades – how Thanatos had figured out it was night time, he had no idea, but the House was almost completely empty – save for the few crowds of shades that lingered the hallways. Even Lord Hades was in his bedchambers, gone from his usual, menacing place in the throne of the House. 

So they were almost completely alone. 

Thanatos found himself at the center of the Main Hall, just in front of Lord Hades's throne. He observed his surroundings; left and right, nothing to be found. Achilles was not in his guard post, and even his mother, Nyx, was not in her usual spot beside the purple flowers Zagreus had placed there for her. The silence was eerie, but it brought him a strange sense of comfort; like nothing was going to disturb him there. Disturb them there.

Thanatos took a deep breath. He knew what was coming; he felt it deep in his heart. He'd only pray that his hopes were not unfounded or meaningless. He prayed, as hard as he could, silently, to any god or goddess, that he was not wrong. That all this time together had been for something. All those lovely, thoughtful, caring gifts were for something . 

( Something that resonated with the beats of his heart, and the warmth in his chest.)

He drifted over the empty hallways and towards the Eastern Hall, passing the lounge and Zagreus's bedchambers. He felt his heart skip a little faster; the familiar, calm drum of his heartbeat accelerating in his chest.

He knew that his prince would be there. He knew that Zagreus would be waiting for him, there, in the Queen's garden. He would be there, and it would be his choice on where they would go from there, what they would be.

(He felt a little cowardly, waiting for Zagreus to make the move. He was never one for expressing himself. He knew the amount of courage it would take him. To Zagreus, his love came naturally, like the flow of the River Styx and its unending waves of crimson blood. To him, his love was locked beneath several doors and gates that would take millennia to unravel. Thanatos has long since built himself up on the walls of apathy.)

(Perhaps, now, by his prince's words, they would slowly crumble, tearing themselves down brick by brick, until there was nothing left there except love.)

He prayed. He hoped and he prayed, every inch closer to the Garden filling him with both fear and longing.

He's there , He realized, and he stopped. 

He willed himself to the ground, feet touching the soft grass of the Garden. He sheathed both his weapons, a hand subconsciously pressing itself to his neck, where a certain key and leaf rested on his chest. 

Zagreus heard him. He turned around, quickly, meeting his golden eyes. There was no eager cheerfulness or enthusiasm in his smile; this was warm, whole, and true. His eyes softened, vicious red and gentle green, full of gratefulness and love. 

Thanatos did not trust himself to speak.

(He was beautiful. Truly, he was.)

Thanatos moved closer, slowly and carefully, each step lined with both hesitance and willingness. He could think of no words to say to the prince. Nothing he has already said before, except for that phrase, those three words. 

( Say it first, please . He thought, almost desperately. And I will say it back. And I will be yours.)

"Thanatos," Zagreus uttered his name, in careful pronunciation, each syllable reverberating. "I – I got you something, again."

Thanatos was too busy staring at his face to notice that, once again, his hands were hidden behind his back. Once again, there was something there for Thanatos to receive. Another thoughtful gift, another act of kindness.

(Another act of love.)

"You didn't have to do … " Thanatos waved around, aimlessly, towards the Garden, the House, and the gift obscured from his view. His voice was quiet, almost mellow with affection. "... all this."

"I wanted to." Zagreus said, resolute in his answer. The determined look in his eyes showed once more, that stubborn, undying resolution. "I'd do … " A split second of hesitation. Then conviction once again: " … I'd do anything for you."

(Gods, give me strength.)

Before Thanatos could speak, Zagreus brought out his gift: a delicate bottle of Ambrosia.

Thanatos marveled at the sight. He was never one to be materialistic, but even he knew the worth of Ambrosia in the Underworld. Such a delicacy was of abundance in Olympus, reveled by the gods, but it would scarce ever make its way down to the realm of the dead. Ambrosia was of Nectar's worth, importance, and rarity, but increased tenfold. It was rare for anyone to get their hands on a bottle, even for royalty such as the King and the Queen.

And the Prince. 

"I – Zagreus, I don't even – " His mind and body betrayed him, the words rushing out before he could even think. But what could he even say? To such a precious gift such as this, even a 'thank you' would not be enough. "You – "

"Than," Zagreus paced closer, cutting the distance between them until he was only a step away. He reached for the Thanatos's hands, palms facing up as held Death's hands in his, the bottle of Ambrosia sitting in the middle. "I have something to say."

(His heartbeat grew louder, faster.)

"... Go on."

"I've meaning to say this for a while, but I never really found the right words. Or the courage. Which is unusual of me, I know, but – " Zagreus sighed, head lolling down, messy raven hair creating a curtain around his face. Beneath his hands, Thanatos could feel him shake, ever so slightly. 

(He has no reason to be afraid. Not anymore.)

Thanatos quickly took the bottle of Ambrosia and set it on a nearby table, before grabbing the prince's hands and taking them into his, lacing their fingers together. Zagreus looked at him, startled, and Thanatos gave him an encouraging look, the most heartful expression he could muster. 

"I'm listening." Thanatos said, quiet for only the two of them to hear, almost a mumble.

(This moment is ours. Take it, Zagreus. Claim it as your own, as our own.)

"... I love you," Thanatos feels his heart burst in his chest, an invigorating warmth surging through his body. (Those words, finally.) "I don't know when, exactly, but it was around the time you found me, in Elysium.

"I shouldn't have –" Zagreus faltered, for only a moment, before Thanatos squeezed his hands tight, unwilling to let go. The courage seemed to surge through him. "I shouldn't have left the way I did, without letting you know. I really … regret that. So I want to apologize.

"And I want you to know that this isn't some impulsive thing for me. I don't want to push you. I know this is a lot but – I'm willing to wait for you, however long it t– "

"...What exactly are you waiting for, Zagreus?"

"I – " Zagreus flushed red at his name, bewildered eyes meeting Thanatos's calm, golden ones.

"I'm here," Thanatos leaned closer, their faces – their lips only a few inches away. His hands found their way to the prince's cheek, to feel the warmth of his skin, the soft of his touch. "And I love you, in return."

(Thanatos surprised himself with how easy it was to say it. How true of a statement it was, how it resonated with his mind and his heart.)

Thanatos stifled a laugh as he tucked a tuft of Zagreus's hair behind his ear. For once, in his immortal lifetime, he smiled, truly smiled – nothing as grand as a grin, but it was true, it was full of love. The sound of his own, muffled laughter was unusual even to him, but for once, he did not care. "If anyone here has waited, it's me," 

Zagreus grew an even brighter red. "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, then." He said, his embarrassed expression shifting to bashful happiness. He returned the laugh, before softening, eyes darting to his lips. "I'll … let you do the honors then, as an apology?"

Thanatos scoffed, before leaning in, closing the distance between them. 

Zagreus's lips were warm and soft, both an invigorating and melting feeling. The world seemed to slow as they stood there, drinking each other in, relishing in what they had yearned for. What they both have waited for, for however long. It was as if nothing else mattered, save for the feeling of Zagreus's face in his hands and the kiss they shared. The Garden, the House of Hades, the Underworld; all had fallen into a comforting silence, and only they remained.

(He felt Zagreus smile against his lips.)

(He couldn't believe this was happening.)

They pulled away shortly after, Thanatos's hand still on the prince's cheek. In the blur of the moment, Thanatos could barely process a thing, his senses still overwhelmed. But he caught Zagreus's expression, looking at him with an expression filled with love; undeniable, powerful love. 

Then the prince laughed. Laughed, and laughed, but not out of mockery, nor playfulness, just pure joy . Unbridled joy and relief. His laugh was a beautiful sound; brighter than the sun, clearing all the fog in Thanatos's head. The God of Death smiled in return. 

"I love you, Than," Zagreus said, almost a declaration. He would have shouted it from the highest mountains of the mortal world if Thanatos would allow it. He was smiling at him, eyes glinting with contentment. With relief. "Finally, I can say it." 

(How lucky was he, to love this prince – his prince – and to be loved in return.)

(There's a page within the leather-bound collection of parchment that sits on a certain prince's bedside table. On one particular page – one the author would deem most important, it would seem – it reads:

I did it.)

…..

+ 6. lock

"How long did you like me, Than?"

Thanatos flushed gold, looking away from the prince in embarrassment. "That's a question I'd rather not answer."

Zagreus blinked at him, bewildered. "Was it really that long ago?"

"... No comment." Thanatos picked at the small contraption on his desk, checking if everything is working as it should. This was a gift long overdue, and he would see to it that it is given to its intended recipient.

Zagreus sat at the edge of his bed, fiery feet dangling off the edge as he waited patiently. He smiled at Thanatos when he looked around to check on him, to which Thanatos quickly looked away, the gold rushing into the tips of his ears. 

Zagreus persisted. "Was it when we first met?"

Thanatos sighed. "No. Of course not. I didn't know you then."

"Ah, then – "

"I liked you about 5 days after." Thanatos admitted, the golden blush across his cheeks almost fully visible. "But it was a childhood crush, and I did not think much of it then."

Zagreus stared at him, for a while, just blinking; processing everything he had just heard. Then, his face broke into a grin. "That charming from such a young age, huh?" There was an unmistakable tone of playfulness in his words. 

"Don't get started with that ego of yours." Thanatos said, rolling his eyes. He fumbled with the small trinket a little more, before holding it up either side with a string. "Done."

Thanatos stood from his desk, lifting the small necklace from the surface of the table. "Close your eyes." He said, before turning around. Zagreus, ever-obedient, had his eyes closed, an expectant smile on his lips. Gently, he wrapped the necklace around the prince's neck, and clasped the two ends together. He nodded in satisfaction, letting go of the necklace, and taking a place in front of the prince, at the edge of the bead. "Okay, you can look."

Zagreus opened his eyes and looked down at the small pendant of the necklace: a golden, miniature lock. At its center was the butterfly trinket Thanatos had worked on so many years ago, now finished and pristine, made of gold, but filled with both purple and red crystal. 

"Than," Zagreus choked on his words, holding the pendant in the palms of his hands. "It's beautiful. You made this?"

"Mm." He nodded. He pulled out the key he wore as a necklace, the one with the flittering, fiery, laurel leaf. "It matches."

Zagreus laughed. "I had no idea you cared so much for my first ever gift to you. It's not even that good. Just a chthonic key."

"I've made some adjustments to it, as well." Thanatos said, clutching it closer for Zagreus to see. Some golden thread had been weaved into the small key, miniscule but meaningful, glinting in the light. "And it's a gift from you. Of course I'd treasure it."

Zagreus flushed red, a beautiful sight. He smiled. "You're sentimental, you know that?"

"One of my greatest weaknesses."

Another laugh. He pulled the God of Death closer, face cupped in his hands. 

"I love you all the more for it."