Fireside

Hades

For the record, Hades hated going to Olympus. It was the one place in the entire universe he hated more than the mortal world, and titan knows how much he loathed the mortal world. Always full of war, always full of people who thought they could measure up to the gods. If it weren't for his precious darling sweetheart of a wife, he would have long ago cursed it for keeping the underworld busy because of all the dead coming from it. But his precious darling sweetheart wife enjoyed the beauty of the mortal world, so it had to stay.

As long as he didn't have to set foot on it, everything was fine.

What wasn't fine was hearing from Hermes about his precious darling sweetheart wife's ill health. War breaking out between Greece and Persia? He didn't care. Troy's walls crumbling because his relatives were bickering like spoiled children over an apple? Count him out of that.

But if anyone or anything ever hurt Persephone, there was going to be a mass execution courtesy of the god of the underworld.

He didn't understand why she would feel sick, when just a few weeks ago she was hale and healthy, and more than a little clingy while they were bidding each other goodbye. So despite his distaste for the upper world, he decided to go for Persephone. And as per usual, he planned to meet with her in the only place he was comfortable staying at.

"Hades," his sister warned sternly as she fed more kindling to the hearth, "either sit down or continue your pacing outside of my house. You are ruining the carpet."

"I'll get you a new one," he replied absently, not even slowing his trod atop the braided carpet spread out over the floor. His long black robes dragged across the fibers, encouraging tendrils of equally black smoke to curl up from the robes' hems. His hands were clasped tightly behind his back, as tight as the stallion tail tied behind the nape of his neck.

"You know that I don't like your taste in décor, dear brother," Hestia replied, crossing her arms before her chest. "Honestly, I thought I raised you better than that."

Hades winced, knowing that he ought to be grateful to his older sister. She'd practically raised him and his siblings without help. She was the only other woman whom he loved, second to Persephone. Her presence in Olympus was the only reason why it still stood, the only reason why he hadn't burned it to the ground like he so often wanted to. He had no idea how she could tolerate the squabbling their relatives seemed to be so fond of, so it was all the more reason to respect her. "Forgive me, dear sister. I shall sit."

"Good." She nodded her head and sat on the opposite side of the table from him. "How goes the underworld?"

"Cold. Dark. Boring," he listed, thinking about how much more pleasant it was whenever Persephone was there. The laughs she released as she played with Cerberus in the garden always called to him. He loved listening to her laugh.

Hestia chuckled, lifting up a golden pot and pouring ambrosia into two goblets. "I would imagine so. Have you heard the news about our sister, by the way? It seems that Demeter and Dionysus have come to an understanding."

Hades frowned. Dionysus? The wine god? "That pansy?"

"Hades!" Hestia reprimanded him. "For shame! How could you call our sister's beloved that name? Your possible future in-law?"

"It's true, isn't it?" the god of the underworld raised one brow. "I've met him. He did use to die every winter and come to my place, until you started keeping his soul in your hearth. He's too chummy with the pesky mortals. So trusting of other people, especially those who only wish to make use of his powers. And he's such a fool for fawning over the notion of love."