The Path to Victory

Chapter 19


Mount Olympus had been the sole connection between Earth and the heavens. The Titans had often hidden away at the peak, knowing they were safe in a place where they could see their enemies approaching, and easily rid themselves of the nuisances just as easily.

Zeus, feeling the fortress he and his family had resided in for the years leading up to their triumph against Cronos had become insufficient to their hierarchical status, decided that Olympus was to be their true home. Hades, however, knew that the palace to be erected there would be no home of his. His true home was to be the Underworld.

So as not to get too fond of the gods’ new dwelling place, Hades spent most of his time away from Olympus while the palace was being erected, mainly by the rapidly expanding powers of Zeus. Poseidon of course felt obligated to help his brother and sisters in creating their new home, but he too chose to follow his older brother’s example and sometimes dwelled for hours upon hours in the seas, simply taking pleasure in how the great masses of water obeyed his every whim.

On one occasion Poseidon even managed to convince Hades to follow him to the depths, with the promise that he would breathe for his brother and keep him out of harm’s way. The experience turned out unforgettable to them both, and for the first time in ages, Hades’ face lit up with what could only be described as pure, unadulterated joy from simply being submerged in the quiet world of the oceans with the brother he loved most.

//I wish so badly that you could stay and share my realm with me// the sea god thought as they slowly ascended toward the surface. In practically no time at all, Hades would be forced to take his place in the Underworld while the rest of his family stayed where heaven and earth connected.

Poseidon had considered again proposing that Hades become his consort. He had lost count of how many times he had considered it. But he knew that it was too late to ask him, now that Hades had his own domain to rule over. Knowing Hades, he would likely deny such a request anyway.

Zeus of course could not be happier in creating his stunning palace, delighting at the work put into every glimmering detail. Poseidon found the creation stunning as all the others did, but could not help but look distracted as he observed his brother’s work. Zeus of course took notice and asked what the matter was.

“I was simply wondering something,” the sea god replied.

“And what was that?” Zeus inquired as he put the finishing touches on a fountain.

“I noticed Metis was among the guests at your marriage to Hera. But she seemingly vanished. I was wondering as to the reason.”

When he received no answer, Poseidon glanced in the direction of his brother and was taken aback at Zeus’ expression. He looked as though someone had walked over his grave. The fountain remained unfinished.

“Zeus? What is wrong?”

“Nothing… Nothing is wrong,” Zeus said dismissingly and passed his hands over the marble used to create the fountain, smoothing it. His stance and unwillingness to look his brother in the eye, however, supported the opposite of his claim.

“Is that truly so?” Poseidon inquired, and suddenly he had a rather bad feeling about this. “Did you send her away, brother? Banish her from these lands?”

“That was my plan, but Metis would have none of it,” Zeus slowly explained, a heavy sigh escaping him. He felt genuine regret over what he had done to the pregnant Titaness, but of course it was too late to undo it at this time. “I tried to reason with her, make her understand that I had married Hera and that I could not take her on as well. She wouldn’t hear me, Poseidon.”

Zeus finally turned to look at his older brother. “When she threatened to reveal my infidelity to our sister, I panicked. Hera wouldn’t forgive my impregnating another woman, so I knew I had to destroy her, or she would destroy me.”

Poseidon had gone almost as pale as Zeus himself as the truth was unveiled. “What did you do, brother?!” he whispered.

Zeus did not look at his brother as he answered. “Something terrible. And as it would seem, her wisdom is taking its effect on me, now that she is gone.”

“Gone?” Poseidon asked, perplexed. He lifted an eyebrow at the cryptic answer. “Where is she?”

Eyes closed, Zeus placed a hand on his chest. “In me. I transformed her into a fly and swallowed her. And now her power flows through me.”

Poseidon’s eyes widened as he stared at his youngest sibling. Silence went by for several minutes as they stood, looking over the palace which had been built so far.

“Strange…” Zeus finally muttered. “And unexpected.”

“What is?” Poseidon asked.

“I had no regret over what I did to Metis before I gained her wisdom. And now look at me.” He finally turned and looked at his older brother. “Her wisdom has brought me a sense of… understanding. Of empathy. You were right, brother. If we are to rule this world, compassion will be as vital as force.”

Hearing such reason come from Zeus was a slight surprise to Poseidon. He had never heard words of guilt from the youngest god before. It was a harsh thought, but perhaps in sacrificing Metis, Zeus would become a much greater leader to not only his domain, but his family as well.

“Does your newfound wisdom extend to your wrongful treatment of our brother?” Poseidon asked pointedly, wondering if Zeus felt any regret at all over everything he had done to Hades, ranging from appointing him the vessel against his will to sending him to rule the Underworld, also against the other god’s will, and everything in between.

There was a pause before Zeus answered. “I have wronged Hades,” he said quietly. “I know that now. But what is there to be done about it? We all have our domains, and I cannot relieve him of his duties without heaping them on someone else. Besides, do you think Hades would ever forgive me, even if I made amends?”

Poseidon would have liked to say most likely not, but he figured Zeus did not need to hear this. “Hades has accepted his lot in life,” he said instead. “I trust that you will at least appoint our brother a seat on Olympus, even though he won’t be around very often to use it?”

Zeus nodded. “Yes, that I can promise you. Hades has earned nothing less.”

Before the two gods could continue their serious discussion, they were approached by Hera, now visibly with child. She immediately noticed her husband’s troubled visage and went to wrap her arms around his neck while softly inquiring what the matter was.

Zeus forced a smile, returning the embrace. “Nothing is the matter, dear wife,” he said. “How could it be, when I am so close to becoming a father?”

His hand passed over her pregnant belly, and Poseidon couldn’t help but wonder if Hera’s face would still carry such a blissful expression if she had known about Metis and the fate of the unfortunate Titaness. Quietly distancing himself from his brother and sister, Poseidon left Olympus to search for Hades.

Hestia and Demeter had eagerly taken up residence in the palace, happy to live in such a beautiful home after hiding away in the fortress for so long. Poseidon of course could not blame them, as he too thought the place to be a dazzling example of god-made beauty.

When asked of the whereabouts of Hades, the two goddesses answered that the last time they had seen him, he was back at the fortress. Poseidon’s heart sank at the thought. Clearly Hades would rather spend as much time as possible away from the Underworld, even if it meant he remained all by himself.

When Poseidon entered the refuge, he immediately called his brother’s name. He received no answer, which was not truly a surprise, considering Hades’ character. The first place he thought to look was exactly where he found the elder god: his bedchamber.

Hades looked up as Poseidon entered, tried to smile to show he was pleased to see his brother, and failed. “I heard you coming. Were it any other, I might have avoided a visit.”

“You should not dwell here all by yourself,” Poseidon said, approaching Hades where he sat on his bed. The fortress had served its purpose as protection against Cronos, but now that the Olympians no longer had anything to fear from their dead father, it was not an appropriate dwelling place for a god.

“The palace is becoming truly magnificent. Why don’t you enjoy it with your family as you should, Hades?”

“Because it isn’t being made for me to enjoy,” Hades replied bitterly. “Taking residence in the Underworld will only be more difficult if I get used to the glory of Olympus.”

Poseidon could not think of anything to counter his brother’s statement, so he remained quiet. “If you would rather be alone, I can leave you be,” he then said, not wanting to impose his presence on Hades if what his brother craved was solitude.

Hades remained silent. Poseidon, surmising that his brother desired isolation, stood up and began to leave.

“You have not visited the Underworld, am I correct?”

Poseidon turned to regard Hades, thinking about his brother’s question. “No, I have not.”

Hades paused, as though deciding what to say. “I should be taking residence there very soon,” he said. “I… I would very much appreciate if you were to come with me. I am not certain I would willingly go there on my own.”

Poseidon slowly smiled, sympathy shining in his eyes. He returned to his seat next to his brother and kissed his forehead. “I will escort you, brother.”

Hades nodded in acceptance. “Thank you.”

Hours later, Hades decided he was finally ready to enter the domain which was now his. He hesitated at the passage which had materialized in front of him, allowing him safe passage into the realm. A hand closed over his, and he finally entered, Poseidon dutifully by his side.

“Fear not, Hades,” Poseidon whispered when he sensed the anxiety and hesitation in his brother as they descended into the Underworld. “This is your realm now. You get to make the rules, and you’re not a prisoner. We may leave any time we want.”

“I am well-aware,” Hades whispered back, and though the rational part of his mind knew this, the feeling part was not quite as convinced. He could remember the sensation of the cold, clammy, damp air against his skin far too well, as well as the darkness, so thick it appeared as though a quilt had wrapped around them.

They reached the banks of the river Styx, which served as a passage between the earth and the Underworld, and Hades warily regarded the thick layer of mist which hovered above the putrid water. He would not enjoy getting into that water, as it looked like it might house some rather unpleasant creatures that most likely did not know or care that Hades was now the lord of this realm and thus not fair game.

“Brother… If you could do something about that river, I would be deeply grateful,” Hades told the younger god, and Poseidon squeezed his hand in return.

“I will try,” he said. “The Underworld is not my domain, and I am unsure of how much influence I have over these waters, but I will do my best.”

Poseidon raised his hand toward the river Styx, and his visage took on a look of deep concentration. Hades watched in awe as the murky water began to draw back, baring more and more of the river floor to the two gods.

Exposing the river bed also exposed the repugnant odor of what lived in the murky waters. Most of the creatures living in the river had cleared the way when their home was pushed aside, but some remained, crawling through the muck, slowed by a lack of water to bring animation to their boneless bodies. Some creatures looked as though they should be dead but flopped about on the ground nevertheless.

His hand returning to that of his brother’s, Poseidon smiled at Hades and they walked through the riverbed.

“Who are you?”

Both gods started at the voice, its source coming from behind a strangled mess of tree roots, which had been obscured by murk before Poseidon had pushed aside the water. What looked like smaller roots were really hands, brown and skeletal, and they released their hold on the roots as their owner skulked out of its hiding place.

The figure looked to have grown out of the trees and mud. Dead brown skin was wrapped tightly over root-like bones, and a skull face peered at the gods with tiny black eyes. It had no lips and yet when its mouth opened, a fully intelligible voice came out, albeit gargling as though its lungs were full of swamp water.

“What have you done to my river?”

“Your river?” Hades interjected, although he was more confused than angry.

The creature took a step toward them, and Poseidon’s grip on his trident intentionally hardened. He felt a strong urge to step forth and protect Hades with his own frame, but he was also well aware that this was now his brother’s domain, not his, and that he ought to let Hades deal with the situation in whatever way he saw fit.

The tree-like being stopped only a few feet from the Olympians and continued to glare at them with suspicion and obvious distaste. Though not overtly aggressive or threatening, the creature’s behavior made it clear that their presence was not welcome in the realm of the dead.

“You are not amongst the dead,” the river guardian said in its throaty voice, beginning to circle the two gods. “Who are you? Why have you come here? Only the dead may pass through this river into the Underworld.”

Hades felt a damp, root-like hand touch his shoulder and failed to hold back a wince. “I am Hades,” he began, angry that he was being forced to explain himself to this lowly form of life.

“Oldest son of Cronos and Rhea, and I am an Olympian. My brother Zeus, king of the heavens, has appointed me the lord of this realm, so by rights you answer to me now!”

The river guardian did not seem very impressed at this, and next thing he knew, Hades felt the creature grab a fistful of his long hair and hold it to its face, inhaling the scent.

“I know you,” it said, suddenly notably more animate than only seconds before. “I know your scent. I never forget a scent. You were here. You were dead. You got away. How did you get away? Nobody escapes the Underworld. You were…--”

Disgusted at having his personal space rudely invaded by the creature, but even more so at being touched so callously, Hades snarled, reacting on impulse.

The creature hardly knew he had been attacked until he was face down on the mud, tossed several feet away by Hades’ mere thoughts. It hardly moved for several seconds and Hades thought he might have killed it until a loud gurgling complaint bubbled out from the creature’s throat. Sputtering in the muck, the skeletal figure struggled to get up, flailing its bony limbs when it saw the dark god approaching.

“Never touch me again,” Hades hissed at it. “Perhaps you did not hear me correctly. I am Hades and I am lord of the Underworld. As such, you are now under my command.”

Black beady eyes stared up at Hades.

“I met Zeus,” the wretched thing finally said. “Zeus went in, went to Tartarus. Freed the giants. Sent back Titans instead.”

“Yes,” Hades replied.

“How do I know you are who you say?” the creature asked, still doubtful.

Hades paused, considering the question. Closing his eyes, he held out his hands as though holding something invisible; a suitable notion, he thought. A moment later, a helmet materialized in his hands.

“This is a gift granted to Hades by the giants,” he stated. “A helm of invisibility crafted by the Cyclopes to defeat the Titans. My brother is Poseidon, and he holds a gift given to him by the same prisoners Zeus had freed from Tartarus.” Hades lifted an eyebrow. “If this does not convince you, then we can continue throwing you aside as we enter my domain.”

The thing stood up, knees still shaking from the violent throw. If a skull could ever look fearful, this creature had achieved such an expression.

“What is your name?” Hades asked.

“Charon. Sent here by Gaia to escort souls into the Underworld.”

Hades nodded thoughtfully, convinced that the creature was speaking the truth. He did not want to consider how long Charon had dwelled here, doing the job he had been appointed, and how it must have affected him in body and in mind. A truly frightful notion to consider was that this wretched creature might have once been a beautiful man.

“Will you serve me, Charon?” Hades asked in a softer voice, wondering if his new servant had ever known kindness.

Charon respectfully bowed his head, and Hades felt a strange but nonetheless gratifying sensation of fulfillment come over him. No one had ever previously bowed down before him, and he realized for the first time just how much Zeus had to appreciate this feeling.

“I will serve you, my lord Hades,” Charon mumbled, his skeletal hands burying themselves in the muddy river floor beneath their feet. “This place is in dire need of a ruler, my lord. For eons there has been chaos, nothing but darkness and disorder. Will you… will you bring an end to this?”

Hades approached the river guardian and placed one pale, slender hand on the rough, bark-like skin of Charon’s head. “I will see to that my realm is brought into order,” Hades replied solemnly. “I entered here now to familiarize myself with my domain. You know the Underworld inside and out. Will you be our guide, Charon?”

“I will,” Charon replied, his head rattling as he nodded. “I know it all. I will show you.”

As though he had it rehearsed, Hades stepped aside to allow the creature to pass and, without even looking his brother’s way, reached out and took Poseidon’s hand. Poseidon looked at his brother’s smiling face and the two of them followed their grotesque guide into the Underworld.

“Three realms in one,” Charon rambled on. “Asphodel, Elysium, Tartarus. I know each place. Asphodel is beautiful, all gray, not like stupid bright Elysian Fields. Disgusting. Tartarus you would know already. Your brother freed the giants there. Cronos sent them to Tartarus, could have sent them anywhere else, but he sent them there. Don’t know why…”

“Where is Tartarus?” Poseidon asked, interrupting the wretch. Charon seemed to not hear him and continued to babble about chains and fire.

“Charon, where is Tartarus?” Hades echoed his brother, and this time the creature answered. Apparently Charon’ loyalties for now would only extend to his lord.

“Changes. Always changes, but you’ll know in time. You follow things: smells, winds, screams… you cannot simply walk to a realm, you search and in time you will know how to look. Easy, very easy…”

Poseidon huffed at the creature’s behavior, but Hades only squeezed his brother’s hand in reassurance, smiling.

“You will learn, lord Hades,” Charon assured his new master. “And if you require my assistance, just speak the word. I will serve you in any way I can, my lord.”

Poseidon couldn’t help but marvel at how quickly the initially hostile river guardian had gone from suspicious to nothing short of sycophantic, and he found some amusement in the thought.

Charon suddenly exited the river and gestured at the two gods to follow him. A thick fog covered the riverbank here as well, obscuring the view more than two feet ahead in any direction. A rank odor of death and decay hung heavy in the air, and Poseidon felt compelled put his hand over his nose and mouth.

“The Asphodel fields,” Charon informed them. “They dwell here, those who die… unless they’re deemed worthy for the Elysium or condemned to spend their afterlife as prisoners of Tartarus.”

“I can’t see a thing out here…” the sea god muttered, feeling rather uneasy about the place in general. He had not accompanied Zeus on either of his brother’s visits to this realm, and so this place was completely unfamiliar territory for Poseidon as well as Hades. Though he was ashamed to admit it, the younger god thought it safest to remain close to his brother and trust that Hades’ influence over this realm would protect them.

Hades considered Poseidon’s statement about their obscured vision and turned to look at his fellow Olympian. “I can take care of that,” he said, halting and closing his eyes in focus, and immediately the mist covering these lands began to clear out only to vanish completely at the will of the god whose powers were tied to the Underworld.

Poseidon almost took back his complaint by the time the fog had cleared. Charon had not been exaggerating; the fields were gray. No other color could be found amongst the drab landscape, no blue of a sky, no green grass. The fields, despite being in a realm one might have labeled as underground, had a far reaching sky, white at its brightest point, but otherwise overcast and threatening a rain which likely never came. Asphodel essentially resembled any endless stretch of land, with the vital exception that the color had been drained from it completely.

Once they had had their fill of the dreary sight, Hades waved his hand and the fog returned.

“Follow me, before the fog is too thick,” the gods heard a voice gurgle out to them. They followed the source of the voice and soon the Asphodel Fields were fading away with the fog.

“What next, what next…” Charon muttered under his creaking breath. “Oh, here we are… can you hear it? I do. Can you smell it?”

The gods became aware of what the wretch was referring to before he had finished asking. They could hear the moans of agony. They could smell the smoke… and the charred flesh.

Hades felt an instinctive tightening in his chest when he recognized the endless maze from his first ever nightmare about the Underworld. The sky above them now was black, with no starlight or moonlight to brighten it up. Tartarus was a bottomless pit of despair as far as the eye could reach, and the groans and cries of agony sounding from various trapped souls confirmed this fact.

“Zeus came here,” Charon muttered under his breath. “Left his prisoners. Left the Underworld. Much work for old Charon, oh yes…”

Hades and Poseidon briefly strayed from the muttering creature that was their guide and exchanged grave looks with each other.

“This is the place of my dream,” Hades said to his brother. “I know it. I recognize this place. I remember…” He paused, closing his eyes and trying to focus on his recollection of the nightmare which had left a strong imprint on him.

“While you were… dead, brother…” Poseidon asked carefully, suddenly fearful of what his brother was implying. “Did you find yourself in Tartarus?”

“No, I did not. When I arrived here, it was in the Asphodel fields. Of that much I am certain. Perhaps my dream was a prophecy rather than a memory. Perhaps trying to tell me that I was destined to become the lord of the Underworld then already.”

“What did you see in your dream? This place? Did you see… anyone we know?”

Hades cocked his head. “Titans.”

“Did you see… our father?”

“No… no, I had not,” Hades gave the question serious thought, and then turned to their guide, who was scuttling around the passageways like a bug, babbling on about the Underworld. It was likely the creature hardly had any chances to explore beyond the river, and it was reveling in it now.

“… Charon.”

“Yes, master,” Charon said, quickly returning to Hades’ side.

“The Titan Cronos,” Hades said, looking down at the wretched creature. He was slain on the battlefield, near the same time that…” The memory of his death caused him to hesitate, but he continued. “… that I too was slain. Did he come here?”

“Everyone comes here,” Charon replied. “Cronos too, arrived before you did. I remember them all. Especially the Titans.”

“Is he in Tartarus?”

“Yes, all Titans are in Tartarus. It is where Zeus sent them all.”

“Indeed,” Poseidon muttered under his breath. Zeus was making an example of the Titans which did not obey his command, and so they would all join their former leader in Tartarus.

Hades had no desire to ever meet his father again, not even his spirit sent here for eternal torment. It did, however, give him a certain degree of satisfaction knowing that he was now in charge of Cronos’ fate, should he wish to change it.

Poseidon, sensing his brother’s anguish, rubbed Hades’ back through his robe. “You are in control now,” he reminded the other. “He cannot hurt you, no matter how badly he wishes to. He is a prisoner of your realm, not the other way around.”

“I know that,” Hades whispered back, a trifle annoyed that Poseidon was still acting like his protector. Supposedly that role was rooted deep within his younger brother, who had saved his life many times over, but Hades wanted to make it clear that he no longer required being looked after, and left Poseidon’s side.

“Charon, take me to the Elysian fields,” Hades demanded, addressing his servant. “I need to explore every part of my realm before we leave.”

Something resembling a frown came over the creature’s twisted features and for a moment Hades expected Charon to outright refuse to escort them.

“I can show you the way…” Charon muttered. “But lord Hades should go alone. Too bright, much too bright for Charon, hurts my flesh, the light does, my flesh and my eyes… Stupid, perpetual light…”

Hades had to smile in amusement at Charon’s complaints. Clearly the little wretch’s life in the bottom of a murky swamp, obscured by all forms of light, had been a deterrent to enjoying anything that most others would consider beautiful.

“Here it is,” Charon muttered, resentment in his gargling voice. “Can you hear? Birds, streams…”

And the gods did hear. The sounds themselves brought them memories of being above ground, wandering the fields near their fortress. Already the brothers felt more at ease.

“Go on, enjoy…” Charon said, hand outstretched to indicate the way, though as they passed him, the gods heard him mutter, “They all do…”

A patch of vegetation blocked off the path, but the very moment Hades pushed the foliage aside, he was met with his first taste of fresh air ever since he entered the Underworld. Covering his eyes to the sunlight, Hades looked around in awe of the place. Where Asphodel had been without color, Elysium was a spectrum of colors not even seen on Earth’s surface.

“It’s beautiful…” he said, more to himself than to his brother. Poseidon said nothing, gazing over the lush fields in total admiration. Mesmerized, Hades took Poseidon by the hand and they left the euphoric place, knowing that if they stayed any longer, they would want to stay forever.

“Home to heroes, that is,” Charon said as the gods met him again. “Not too full right now. But Elysium is for the good ones. The really good ones. Tartarus, the bad.”

“And Asphodel for those in between,” Hades filled in. “The shades of grey, that are neither good nor bad…” //Like myself//

The god found himself reflecting over the fact that when slain on the battlefield, he had not even been deemed worthy for the Elysian Fields like a true hero but was sent to the grey world of the insignificant ones, despite the fact that he had played a large part in the defeat of his father and the other Titans by birthing the Kraken.

Poseidon noticed the abrupt shift in his brother’s emotional state and approached him, determined to find out what was troubling Hades now. In his opinion, the older god had done surprisingly well so far, considering his reluctance to rule the Underworld. Something specific had to have caused the sudden drop in his mood.

“What happened, brother?” he asked. “Did you see something that left your mind at unease?”

“Perhaps I did…” Hades sighed, but he did not elaborate any further, thinking this was not the time or place. Straightening, he did his best not to let his gloomy state of mind show on the outside and even managed to produce a smile for his brother.

“I believe I have seen all I wanted to see for now,” Hades said. “I think it’s time we took a glance at my… my living quarters.” He turned to Charon. “Would you know of such a place?” he asked the creature.

Charon scratched under his arm in contemplation. “This is your kingdom now. You want it, it comes to you.”

Cocking an eyebrow, Hades turned away from his guide and wandered down a dark hallway, thinking over the way his living quarters looked back at the fortress. “I think that will do,” he muttered to himself, and held out an arm, pressing his palm flat against the damp wall. It gave with his touch, like wet clay.

As his two companions observed speechlessly, the wall caved in, turned away from Hades’ touch, and became a doorway. The doorway became a tunnel, and finally, the tunnel expanded into a cavernous large room. When the group entered the room, light filled it from torches sprouting out of the walls.

Separate rooms carved themselves from the far wall, likely the bedchambers and baths, but this present room, the room where Charon and the two gods stood, was mostly empty with one exception. A tall, black throne of ebony grew from the floor, a dark column that made the pale walls that much brighter.

Poseidon could only stare at his brother’s impressive creation, marveling at the development of his powers. This was indeed Hades’ realm, and he could only imagine what else the new lord of the Underworld could accomplish by his mere will.

“Most impressive, my brother,” Poseidon praised, stepping forth to stand next to Hades before the recently erected ebony throne. “The color and appearance does fit your disposition, doesn’t it?” he added jokingly, hoping that Hades would appreciate the humor rather than be offended by Poseidon’s remark.

“There is only so much that I can do about this place,” Hades replied gravely. “It is the Underworld, and no natural light will ever reach here. Ergo I cannot bask in it like the rest of you will on Mount Olympus.”

Poseidon’s jovial expression faded at the biting remark dealt out by his brother. While Hades seemed to have accepted his lot, he was nonetheless bitter about it, even though this bitterness was directed at Zeus rather than Poseidon himself.

“Show me the rest of your quarters,” the sea god requested, deciding to switch topics to distract the other from his downward spiral of misery.

What would become Hades’ bedchamber looked eerily similar to his old chamber at the now abandoned refuge, and Poseidon assumed this had to do with nostalgia. Even the bed was an almost exact replica of the one found in his old quarters. The air, however, was different, and no sunlight fell into the room from an open window. The only sources of light were four lit torches placed strategically on the walls.

They entered the room which would serve as Hades’ bath house, and while Hades had been able to create the shape of a pool in the floor, matching his old baths from the fortress, his powers did not extend to bringing forth water, and the pool was therefore empty.

“Perhaps you could help me fill it up, Poseidon?” Hades asked his brother, who responded with a wide grin.

“Nothing would make me happier,” Poseidon replied, and he walked to the edge, placing a foot on the staircase. As Hades watched, water seemed to rush with the gravity of every step his brother took down the stairs into the pool. By the time Poseidon had walked out to the center of the pool floor, the water was increasing at a fast rate. Smiling, the sea god drifted his fingertips over the water’s surface. The sight was a bittersweet one, however, and Hades’ smile faded as he observed his brother. Poseidon had always been meant for the seas, and indeed nothing made him happier than to be one with the water. Poseidon was where he belonged.

Was this where Hades belonged? If so, why was he so unhappy for it?

Turning to his brother, Poseidon’s grin faded at the sight of Hades’ miserable state. He waded out of the pool, climbing the steps approaching the elder god.

“What troubles you so?” he asked, though he knew he could guess the reason.

“You are happy in your duties,” Hades said, “I doubt the same shall be for me.”

“I am certain you will come to enjoy yours just as much as I do mine,” Poseidon responded, taking his brother by the arm and guiding him back to the throne room. But his words were of a naïve, hopeful optimism. “Now you have two thrones,” he continued, desperate for some kind of smile from his brother’s visage. “One here, and one on Olympus.”

“And how exactly will that benefit me, as I will be spending most if not all my time down in this pit from now on?” Hades replied, the prospect of remaining here with no one but the sad wretch Charon and the discorporate spirits of the dead for company filling him with a feeling of hopelessness. Poseidon would move on and forget him in time, perhaps even sooner than either of them wanted to believe, and Hades would be left alone in the darkness and misery of the Underworld for the rest of his existence.

“Hades, Zeus has promised to summon you whenever holds council on Olympus,” Poseidon said, determined to lift his brother’s spirits. “You are still one of us, brother; you are an Olympian, and that will not change just because—”

The younger god was interrupted by a stifled sob escaping Hades’ tightly pinched lips, as the newly appointed god of the dead did everything in his power to fight back tears.

“Charon, leave us,” Poseidon immediately ordered their guide. Hades did not require his subjects to see him in such a state of weakness.

A gurgling snort of contempt escaped Charon’s jaws, but the hissing order, repeated this time by his master, caused him to duck his head and leave the room. Poseidon took his brother in his arms, holding him close. Hades did not resist or push away – Poseidon was worried he might get thrown back by an invisible shield for his efforts – but he stood very rigid in his brother’s hold, weeping quietly.

“Shhh…” Poseidon whispered as though comforting a hurt animal, hand caressing the back of Hades’ head and neck. He pulled away just far enough to kiss his brother’s cheeks, as though trying to kiss away the twin tears which had fallen. Hades kissed back, lips touching Poseidon’s own. The younger god returned that kiss, and their lips lingered on each other. Hands cupping the elder god’s jaw, Poseidon deepened the kiss, and within seconds, Hades opened his mouth and allowed entry.

A fire spread in Hades’ loins as he felt a tongue explore his mouth, and he wrapped his arms around Poseidon, wanting their bodies as close to one another as possible, and making sure his brother would not leave him. He moaned into Poseidon’s mouth and rubbed his body against him, the fire growing even bigger.

The abrupt shift in Hades’ mood and behavior and the way he responded to his brother’s kisses excited Poseidon as well, but he also couldn’t help but wonder if the other was balanced enough to know what he truly wanted presently. Taking advantage of Hades for personal pleasure when all his brother craved was comfort was not something Poseidon wanted to make himself guilty of.

Breaking their kiss, he held the older god at arm’s length and looked into his eyes. Hades’ gaze was clouded by lust, and he made another fervent attempt to kiss Poseidon.

“Ease yourself, brother,” the sea god said gently, hands moving to cup Hades’ pale face. “Are you sure you want this?”

Hades nodded, his breathing heavy and fast. Wrapping both arms around Poseidon’s neck once more and pressing their bodies together, he raised one leg to snake around his brother’s thigh, leaving only the toes of his left foot in contact with the ground. Hades then felt Poseidon’s hands pull up his robe, and the following moment those large hands were squeezing and kneading his now exposed backside, which made the older god gasp and writhe in excitement. His brother was not slow to take his advances further and ease a finger into the cleft between Hades’ buttocks.

His moan was loud and sharp, and as he threw his head back, his neck was immediately explored by the other god. Hades was so engulfed in pleasure that it never occurred to him what might happen should his remaining foot leave the floor. Presently he did not care if Poseidon lost his balance and they toppled to the floor.

Fortunately, Poseidon did care, and he felt a shift in balance as his brother’s left leg wrapped around him. Stance wide, the sea god took three steps forward and pinned Hades against the nearby wall. Kept firmly in place without risk of falling, Hades gripped Poseidon tighter and encouraged the stimulation against the snug, hot passage.

No words were exchanged. The two gods were too immersed in their lovemaking, attacking one another with exploring hands and mouths. Hades was nearly blinded by passion, and did not see or feel his clothes being yanked off of him until Poseidon’s fingertips brushed against his naked flesh. Again he moaned and his fingers entwined in rich, dark curls of hair, tightening his grip. Poseidon grunted in discomfort but otherwise made no rebuttal.

He struggled to remove his own clothes without releasing his hold on Hades, and though Poseidon heard the distinct ripping of fabric, he paid no further attention to it. All that mattered now was consummating their union of the flesh.

Hades’ legs tightened around his brother’s waist when the sea god harshly bit into his neck, grazing teeth against the already bruised skin. Hades whimpered from both pleasure and pain, and grabbing a fistful of Poseidon’s hair, he jerked the younger god’s head up and instantly pressed their lips together, strongly determined to get the most of the experience. He felt his brother’s stiff member nudge him between the thighs, but Poseidon made no attempts to penetrate him. Hades’ own phallus, just as hard, was caught between their bodies, and he was left unable to touch it without breaking out of the embrace he was in.

“Hades…” Poseidon murmured between the frantic kisses bestowed upon him. “I cannot… We have nothing to… ease the way…”

“I don’t care…” Hades murmured back, both hands now in his brother’s hair. “Just do it!”

“No, I would leave you in pain,” the sea god insisted, avoiding his brother’s mouth, which earned him a displeased glare from Hades. “You might not care, but I do.”

The legs wrapped so firmly around Poseidon’s waist relaxed a smidgen, and the hands in his hair quickly followed. Hades seemed to be contemplating the matter and finally voiced a solution.

“Use your spit,” he said. “It will suffice, I’m sure of it.”

“Fine, but only if you promise to let me know if your pleasure is overshadowed by pain,” Poseidon replied, grasping the arms around his neck and unwinding them. Hades’ legs reluctantly followed, and the two gods broke their heated embrace in order to deal with the preparation.

“Turn around,” Poseidon instructed his brother, sweeping Hades’ hair aside and kissing the junction where neck met shoulder. “I will take you from behind.”

Hades, already impatient by the delay, immediately turned, giving a mewling plea for his brother to hurry. Wetting his fingers with his saliva, Poseidon began to prepare his fellow god, inserting the digits gently at first, then thrusting with them when his brother pushed against the intrusion. Giving a small smirk, Poseidon spat into his palm and wiped the saliva onto his erect phallus and quickly made it the replacement for his fingers.

“Ahhhh…” Hades moaned, again pushing against the penetration, encouraging Poseidon to thrust. The younger god complied, his movements slow at first until Hades groaned at him to pick up the pace. Hades did not seem to be in any sort of pain as Poseidon increased his speed, and the god of the sea wrapped his arms around the elder god, holding him tightly as though restraining an enemy. Once again Hades did not complain or resist, and as Poseidon thrust harder, he had his brother practically pinned to the wall as though trying to force him through the solid surface. Hades continued to moan wantonly with every breath, his arms against the wall, forcing his body against the penetration until his cries became louder, and he tightened around Poseidon’s organ.

“I… I’m close…!” he gasped out, and his own pulsating member strained, twitching against his abdomen as if to warn him of his impending climax. Poseidon seemed to realize his brother’s need for a helping hand, and he never ceased his own movements into Hades’ body as he reached down to grasp the other’s stiff, weeping organ and started stroking it in time with his thrusts.

His loins practically on fire from the double stimulation, Hades did not last long and soon erupted in a powerful climax, which made him spill all over his brother’s hand and the wall he was pressed against. His eyesight momentarily blackened from the intensity of the experience, and Hades remained on his feet only due to Poseidon’s support. When the arms wrapped around his chest tightened their hold and his brother slammed into him with deliberate force, Hades figured that Poseidon had climaxed as well, and the two gods went tumbling to the ground when their shaky legs gave way and refused to support their weight.

“Oh, Hades…” Poseidon said, panting, and pulled his still dazed brother on top of himself. Hades’ long hair fell over his chest, tickling him when the older god snuggled close. With a feat of strength, Poseidon lifted his head to kiss his brother’s crown and then proceeded to stroke Hades’ head and back, savoring the feel of soft, damp skin against his fingertips. The ground was an uncomfortable place for afterglow such as this, but at present they were both too drained to care.


TBC...