Chapter Text
“Immortal shall fall
to a Titan free
Mortal shall tread
where Immortal was misled
It is the devotion between truth and lies,
That will convince the disaster
Not to strike,”
Were the words that poured from Tiresias’s lips, again and again, in a cacophony of thousands of whispering voices.
Hermes had seen him give prophecies just…not like this. His eyes were glowing an eerie white from beneath his blindfold, as were the sigils on his palms. He was trembling, muttering like a man possessed.
Hermes sat up in bed. “Darling?”
The whispers only grew faster. The glow got brighter, so bright Hermes had to avert his gaze. It illuminated the arched walls and ceilings of the cave. Elongated shadows stretched from behind shelves and furniture.
Hermes pushed the covers back and took Tiresias by the arm, shaking him gently. “Hey. Hello? You’re scaring me, here.”
At once, the light from his eyes was cut, like a candle being snuffed out. Tiresias slumped against Hermes, breathing hard.
“Hermes…?” he mumbled, breathless. His hand reached up. Hermes took it, guiding it to his own face. It was Tiresias’s way of ‘seeing’ him.
“Right here. Goodness, does your head hurt?” Hermes questioned, feeling his husband’s forehead. “Do I need to make you some tea?”
Sometimes, Tiresias got headaches after particularly strong visions.
Tiresias shook his head.
“Alright. Later, then.” Hermes dropped his voice a bit. “What did you see?”
“I don’t know,” Tiresias mumbled. “Ichor and…feathers.”
“Hm,” Hermes mused. That, combined with the part about the immortal falling, probably wasn’t great news for him. Still, he didn’t want to scare his husband anymore, so he just smiled. “Well. That sounds like a problem for tomorrow.”
He flopped onto his back with a sigh.
Tiresias did not join him. “Hermes.”
“Yes, my dear?”
“I’m worried. What if the prophecy is about you?”
“Well…those things always have tons of double meanings. Maybe it isn’t.”
“What other god has feathers?”
“Athena.”
“Hm.”
Hermes laughed and patted the bed beside him. “Get some rest.”
“Alright,” Tiresias agreed uncertainly. He settled in beside Hermes.
They both lay in the quiet, listening to the ambience of the Underworld. The distant rush of the River Styx, the creaking of dead trees.
It took Hermes some time to fall asleep that night, his brain stuck in a loop of Tiresias’s words.
And when he finally did drift off to sleep, relief wasn’t found there either.
Titan…Hermes knew a Titan…
~✦~✦~✦~
The Titan sat against the rocks, weighed down by the chains that bound him there. Father had left some slack in the restraints, and Hermes understood why. The illusion of freedom–escape so close yet so far. Made the punishment all the more tantalizing.
Prometheus eyed him coldly as he neared.
“You must know why you’re here,” Hermes greeted solemnly. Gone was his friendliness, his flourish. He was here on business that he didn’t want to perform.
The Titan did not speak.
Hermes cleared his throat. “Zeus doesn’t take the threat of being overthrown lightly. He will treat this as treason.”
“Let him,” Prometheus answered. “That’s what it is, isn’t it?”
Hermes exhaled slowly. “Would you like to know Zeus’s plans for you?”
Prometheus waited.
“He’ll send an eagle. Every day, it will feast upon your liver, and every day it will grow back.”
“Your threats don’t scare me.”
“They aren’t my threats.”
“Right,” Prometheus agreed, sounding satisfied with himself. “You’re just a mouthpiece.”
“That’s what being a messenger is, I’m afraid,” Hermes replied, crossing his arms in exasperation.
Prometheus raised an eyebrow. “You don’t want to be here, then?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“So why are you here, if not to gloat?”
“I was hoping I could talk some sense into you,” Hermes retorted sharply. “This is idiotic. Just tell him the truth, and you’ll be fine.”
Prometheus’s imprisonment had been a result of several transgressions. He’d stolen fire for the humans a while ago, but, more recently, he’d learned of a prophecy that would result in Zeus being overthrown. Due to Zeus’s endless mistreatment of his creations, Prometheus refused to tell him.
Prometheus eyed him for a moment, then said, “I hear what my creations call you.”
Hermes narrowed his eyes, feathers ruffling. “Do you, now?”
“Yes. And I’d say the title doesn’t match. What’s the point of loving something if you leave it to–?”
“Enough,” Hermes snapped, the wings over his eyes unfolding.
Prometheus shut his mouth.
“Yes. You’re right. I’m his messenger. And his son. And that means I’ve seen firsthand what he can do.” Hermes’s voice became desperate, almost pleading. “So I warn you one last time–stop.”
“I won’t,” Prometheus declined, less harshly this time.
Hermes dragged his gaze away, his professional mask of indifference broken.
“Alright. I…” he swallowed and turned away. “I’ll let him know.”
~✦~✦~✦~
Tiresias woke up early the next morning, feeling like he hadn’t slept a wink. It wasn’t often he got a vision like that. They were taxing. Both emotionally and physically. He had a terrible headache–the type that stretched all the way from your eyes to the top of your skull.
He heard scuffling somewhere and turned his head toward it. There was a familiar click as something was buckled shut. Tiresias recognized it as the clasp on Hermes’s satchel.
Tiresias sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Hermes? Where are you going?”
“Good morning, darling,” Hermes greeted. “I figured I’d go to Olympus. Have a chat about your prophecy. You know how my father gets about that type of thing.”
Tiresias certainly did.
Hermes took a seat beside him. “I made you tea.”
Hermes handed the mug to him. Tiresias blew on it, then took a long drink, the taste of peppermint coating his tongue.
He sighed, letting his head fall onto Hermes’s shoulder.
Hermes wrapped his arm around, pulling him closer to plant a kiss on his head.
Tiresias took another sip, then mumbled, “I’m coming, too.”
Hermes chuckled. “I figured as much.”
After Tiresias finished his drink, he packed a few things up, and they left Tiresias’s cave-house. The walk to the ferry was more sullen than usual. The air felt charged in a sleepy sort of way. Tiresias kept mulling over the prophecy. Hermes seemed to pick up on his anxiety because he kept trying to start conversations about the positives of visiting Olympus—like wondering if there’d be any leftover breakfast waiting for them or showing Tiresias this new oil Hermes had been dying to do Tiresias’s hair with. Tiresias would smile and try to keep them going, but the dread would rise back up, and they’d drift back into silence.
They eventually arrived at the ferry stop and waited. Tiresias leaned against him. Hermes wrapped his arms around him in turn, tilting Tiresias’s head slightly and leaning in for a kiss. Just a quick brush of the lips.
“We’ll be alright,” Hermes murmured against his lips.
“I know,” Tiresias agreed softly.
His hands found Hermes’s face, pulling him back for more. Hermes made a surprised noise of approval and leaned into it, his eyes drifting shut.
“Are you two lovebirds coming or what?” Someone called.
They both startled.
“Charon,” Hermes groaned. He started walking, holding out his arm for Tiresias to grab onto and follow. The gesture was natural at this point.
Indignant, the ferryman called back, “What?”
“We were having a moment!”
“I’ve got a quota to fill, y’know!”
They got settled in their seats. There didn’t seem to be any other souls on board, judging by the lack of crying sounds. Perhaps Charon had just finished dropping off and was on his way back.
“Where to today?” Charon asked.
“The entrance, please,” Tiresias requested.
“You got it.”
The boat rocked as he began rowing. Beside him, Hermes leaned back, wrapping an arm around Tiresias’s shoulders.
The Underworld was a vast place, and rides that went upstream tended to take even longer. The steady rocking of the ferry, the swish of water against the oar, seemed to lull Hermes toward sleep. Hermes had his arms wrapped around him loosely, face pressed against his shoulder. Hermes had always been big on physical affection, but he got extra clingy when he was sleepy. And when he was sad. And when he was happy. And…most times, really.
“Do you want to lie down?” Tiresias offered, patting his lap.
Hermes hummed in acknowledgement. He did so without a word, shifting so his feet were up on the bench and his head was on Tiresias’s lap. A sigh of contentment melted out of him.
Tiresias smiled and ran a hand through his hair, playing with the fluffy curls.
Still, it was rare to see Hermes in this state. He only ever seemed to tire after full days of work–racing around the world and running errands.
Tiresias wondered if he’d had trouble sleeping, too. That maybe he was more nervous than he was letting on.
At least, Tiresias thought, this was something he could help with.
“So what awaits you lads on Olympus?” Charon chatted with them. “Impromptu vacation, perhaps?”
“Not sure yet,” Hermes replied, weariness making him disinterested.
“How vague.”
Hermes huffed in amusement.
Perhaps twenty minutes later, the Ferry jolted slightly as it nudged the dock.
“This is your stop, lads,” Charon said.
Hermes sat up. They both thanked Charon and got moving. They pushed past all the souls waiting to board and made their way up a long set of stairs.
“I’m too old for this,” Tiresias panted, clinging to the railing.
“Darling, I’m 4,000 years old,” Hermes replied.
“You’re the god of speed, too.”
Hermes chuckled. The god slipped a hand beneath his knees and another behind his back and, before Tiresias knew what was happening, lifted him.
“Hermes!” Tiresias complained. “I can walk!”
“But I can run,” Hermes retorted proudly. “Hold on tight, my dear.”
Tiresias wrapped his arms around Hermes’s neck with a grumble. Truthfully, he liked it when Hermes carried him. It was like…snuggling on the go. “Just don’t drop me.”
Hermes chuckled and planted a kiss on his forehead. “Never, darling.”
Hermes took off. Wind rushed past them. It was a smooth ride, Hermes also being the god of grace.
Tiresias was, perhaps, the only shade who could leave the Underworld. Most of the dead didn’t have physical bodies. You needed one of those to go back outside, otherwise you’d dissolve in the sun. At Hermes’s request, Hades and Persephone would grant Tiresias a temporary physical body so that Hermes could take him on little vacations. Their wedding gift was a permanent one. Now Tiresias could freely traverse between both realms. There were limits, though. Tiresias’s body was the exact one he had in life, just cleansed of decay. He couldn’t age, and he couldn’t die, but if he was injured beyond his ability to heal, then he was gone. His soul would spend the rest of eternity as…nothing. Just drifting around. That was why Hades didn’t give this gift to everyone. A mind without a body was a fate worse than death. Your conscience would linger and witness all, but not be able to speak or interact. There was no escape. As for why Hades did it was a mystery. What could’ve pushed him to break his own rule? Hermes had asked his uncle and Persephone more than a few times, but Hades’s answers were vague at best.
Once they reached the top, Hermes set him down.
They weren’t out yet. There was one more chamber before the exit.
“Where’s—?”
A three-chorus of barks interrupted Tiresias, answering his question for him. Before he knew it, they were both getting barreled over by a giant ball of three-headed fluff.
Hermes chuckled beside him. “Oh, hello, darlings.”
Tiresias squeezed his eyes shut as one of Cerberus’s heads planted a wet, slobbery kiss on his face.
“Good dog,” he said, awkwardly patting his head.
Cerberus backed up, allowing them both to get up. Tiresias could hear the rapid swish swish swish as he wagged his tail.
They each gave him a few more pets before moving on.
After a short walk through a corridor, they stepped into the grass.
It wasn’t the first time Tiresias had left the Underworld, but it still felt strange every time. The sudden breeze, the sun….
Tiresias smoothed his hair back. It was summertime up here, much warmer than what he was used to. Tiresias unclipped his cloak and held it.
“Ready?” Hermes asked, holding out his arms.
Tiresias begrudgingly nodded. Here came his least favorite part.
~✦~✦~✦~
Hermes flew through the air, winged sandals flapping. He kept his head wings curved above his eyes, blocking them from the wind. He could just see Olympus in the distance, the peak concealed by a thick circle of clouds. Light reflected off the golden entry gates, flashing in Hermes’s vision and making him squint.
Tiresias was curled up in his arms, eyes clamped shut (as if it made a difference) and face pressed into his neck. The wind whipped his long hair around, tangling it.
Hermes smiled, amused. “You alright, darling?”
“No!”
Hermes laughed.
They landed on Hermes’s balcony not long after. Hermes set his darling down, and they both headed inside.
“Remember,” Hermes teased as they set their bags down on his bed. “No fighting with your father-in-law this time.”
Tiresias sighed. “Yes, yes…”
They made their way out of Hermes’s room, down the hall, and up a winding staircase.
They arrived at the peak–Olympus’s throne room. They were arranged in a sort of U-shape, with Zeus and Hera being at the center. Their thrones were far larger than the rest, encrusted with crystals and marble. They had to alter their sizes to fit into them.
Zeus sat upon his throne, speaking to a few of his harpies.
Hermes took a knee, tugging on Tiresias’s sleeve to get him to do the same. They waited.
Zeus finished speaking with the creatures and dismissed them. Then he looked at Hermes. “Speak.”
“I request a meeting,” Hermes said, not taking his eyes off the floor. He glanced at Tiresias and found a scowl on his face.
“What for?” Zeus questioned.
“We’ve reason to believe the Titans are stirring.”
“Hm…” There was an audible shift in the god king’s tone. “Very well.”
Without warning, he threw a lightning bolt straight over their heads, hitting the bell they used to call meetings. Hermes and Tiresias flinched.
Within the next few minutes, Gods were filing into the room. Hermes and Tiresias stood in the center of the thrones, waiting for everyone to take their seats. Hermes spotted nymph servants in the doorway, peeking behind the wall and shushing each other. Even Artemis and Dionysus, who spent most of their time away with their followers, had attended. Dionysus, though, didn’t seem to know what he was attending, based on the way he staggered in.
Hammered at nine in the morning. Good ole’ Dionysus.
When they were ready, Hermes cleared his throat.
They all quieted and looked at him.
“What’s goin’ on, Swiper?” Apollo asked.
“Yeah, what gives? Me and Aphrodite were in the middle of…” Ares trailed off, glancing at Hephaestus. “Uh…”
Aphrodite muffled a sigh, and a few gods snickered. Hephaestus did not.
“My husband received a prophecy,” Hermes spoke up.
“What did it say?” Athena inquired.
Tiresias recounted it for them.
When he finished, murmurs ran through the crowd. Hera narrowed her eyes. Apollo and Arty shared a tense look. Ares leaned forward, excited by the prospect of fighting. Dionysus hiccuped.
Hermes looked at Zeus, waiting for his response. The god king stood, shrinking down to size, and pulled Athena aside. Hermes watched them, his attention only drawn when Tiresias took his hand. He gave it a reassuring squeeze. Hermes gave him a small smile, heart swelling with both affection and trepidation. He lifted his darling’s hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to it.
Zeus and Athena took their seats again.
“Quiet,” Zeus ordered, and the chatter ceased. “Listen for your jobs.”
Athena nodded her agreement. That was usually how things went. Athena came up with the ideas. Zeus enforced them like they were his own.
He began explaining their strategy.
Until more information was gathered, Titans of concern would be under strict surveillance.
Poseidon would be in charge of Oceanus.
Ares would keep an eye on Atlas.
Hermes, being the only god with free access to the Underworld, had been assigned the Titans in Tartarus.
Apollo would stay, in case his healing abilities were needed.
Artemis would stay as well. They needed her safe in case she needed to track someone.
Hephaestus would work overtime on weapons in the event they needed an army.
Athena, as always, would stay close to Zeus in case their plan needed to be modified.
With Hermes occupied, Iris would go to alert the minor gods of what was happening.
The other gods would be on standby.
There were more Titans, but they weren’t areas of concern.
“Those who are leaving, you’re expected to be in your posts by sunrise tomorrow. Make sure no one’s gone. Make sure no one gets out,” Zeus finished. “Meeting dismissed.”