#melinoë x odysseus

[polskasroka]

Fellow Mel/Od (Melody?) shippers and Hades 2 enjoyers, I kindly invite you to my fic that I've decided to split into 3 chapters because I couldn't wait to post it (initially, I wanted to post the whole 20-25k words of it in one chapter)

Title: A Distraction

Pairing: Melinoë/Odysseus

Summary: According to some inhabitants of the Crossroads, Melinoë should be focused at all times and let nothing and no one disturb her in the pursuit of her ultimate goal. However, at one point, she can't help it but allow a little distraction to enter her monotonous and repetitive life. With the help of the Goddess of Love herself, Melinoë discovers that denying her own feelings is not always the right thing to do.

AO3 LINK

Or Chapter 1 (7,840 words) under Read More

It is night in Erebus, in the Crossroads. It is when Melinoë wakes up from one of too many dreamless or nightmare-filled naps because what she is having can’t definitely be called proper sleep. She doesn’t care, it’s enough. She’s got used to it and can’t even imagine sleeping soundly for a couple of hours, she’s got more important things to do. As long as it doesn’t affect her skills, she has nothing to worry about.

Before she sets off to attempt to reach Chronos and bring death upon him, she tells Frinos a secret or two and pecks his wet nose to then head out of her tent.

“Dora!” Melinoë gasps as she jumps at the sudden appearance of the shade.

“Thought you wouldn’t even flinch by now. Guess I was wrong.” Dora shrugs her pale green shoulders. “So… You going out there again? Haven’t got bored of that yet?”

“Dora, it’s not a matter of me getting bored or not.” Melinoë rolls her eyes and folds her arms, putting weight on one of her legs. “It’s my family. It’s everything that I… we could care about!”

“Yeah. Well, I care about this tent and you, so good luck. Again. Hope it’ll reach you this time.”

“Helpful and uplifting as always, aren’t you?”

“At your service.” Dora then turns into her more terrifying form, with dark green and fang-like shapes to practise and probably humour Melinoë a little too. “Now who dares to disturb my peace?!” goes her haunting voice as Melinoë passes her by with a smile on her face.

It’s raining in the Crossroads. Good. This means that the plants don’t require watering first thing at night.

Melinoë doesn’t just go out there, straight to the woods of Erebus without exchanging a word or two with whoever’s there in the Crossroads. Be it even the Wretched Broker who can only hum so much – it will do as well.

But there’s always someone around. Even if it’s just a minute of conversation, Melinoë will indulge herself in it. That’s what raises her spirits, no matter how actually discouraging some inhabitants’ (Dora’s) attitudes may seem.

After Moros being his usual kind self and Hecate’s wise words of conviction of the inevitable success of Melinoë’s, and despite the goddess not entirely believing in her own abilities at times, Melinoë greets the Wretched Broker and faces Nemesis.

Melinoë still can’t quite wrap her head around what Nemesis’ deal is. Maybe they started off on the wrong foot is all, since Retribution has recently been less hostile than she tends to usually be. Melinoë won’t be fooled, though. She’s wary, knowing that Nemesis has her moods too and, whether intentionally or not, can be quite a pain in the ass that can and will make the other person feel bad.

The Fates’ will seems to be merciful to Melinoë this time, for she doesn’t have to handle whatever mood Nemesis might be in because she’s not in the Crossroads. Melinoë already expects to meet her somewhere out there in Erebus and either compete with her or get something from her for Gods know what reason. As it’s been said – it’s not easy to figure Nemesis’ deal out.

But it’s not the time for it now. A quick praise to Hecate’s familiars, salutations to ever-asleep Hypnos and tending to plants. They’ve grown already and are ready to be picked, and Melinoë does just that. She’s gathered quite a lot of such crops already and the seeds in her bag never seem to end. And if they do – she takes what is required with herself and seeks more out in Erebus.

As she kneels to plant new seeds, she catches herself glancing over her shoulder at Odysseus’ table, as if looking in that direction was to make the man appear there all of a sudden. Melinoë may be a witch but she can’t do that. Not yet, at least. And she doesn’t know if it’s actually possible – should she ask Hecate? No, no way. No, no, no. That would make the Headmistress think that Melinoë’s being distracted by… something unimportant. She can’t be distracted. Not in the current circumstances.

So Melinoë won’t ask such things. She already feels like a fool for even coming up with such ideas. Whatever does she need Odysseus for now, anyway? She’s about to set out and it’s not like he’s coming with her. He’s a tactician. He’s most likely working out some tactics now and he wouldn’t be interested in heading out into the forest with Melinoë, would he?

Stupid. Better do something useful. Better focus on Chronos. Find the Titan. Slay the Titan.

As soon as the thought appears in her head, Melinoë’s off to choose the weapon for this night, take Frinos with herself and a shovel and then run down, hopeful to reach Chronos and slay him this time.

Erebus is not that big of a problem anymore. With ease, Melinoë slides behind and in-between the vile creatures living in the woods, always proceeding, always considering any mistakes, always watchful for any kind of danger that may be lurking around while she’s not watching.

Although it’s not really a matter of being watchful or not, maybe Melinoë should notice or at least try to notice the signs of Nemesis having passed by somewhere, so that she doesn’t land in the same area as Retribution herself. Some competition is important, indeed, but not necessarily in these times, when time is of high value and it seems like each minute, each second can be wasted too easily.

“I’ll start thinking you’re not on our side if you keep doing that,” Melinoë pants, swiping sweat off of her forehead after she’s tossed Nemesis the number of coins she owed her for clearing the area.

“If anything, I’m doing it, so that nothing can surprise you anymore. I thought Hecate trained you well and yet, here we are.”

“I think there are more important things to be doing right now instead of betting which one of us will kill more of those lost beasts. Besides you not being where you should be. I can’t believe Headmistress hasn’t noticed yet.”

“You do not tell a word to her about it,” Nemesis growls, sticking her index finger out towards Melinoë.

“No need to remind me.” Melinoë squints at her, her arms now folded. “If you stay here, she’ll find out herself. Maybe you should go already.”

“Maybe you should too,” Nemesis huffs and stomps towards one of the exit routes. “And focus more or you’ll never achieve your goal,” she adds under her breath and perhaps Melinoë can hear at least some of it.

And she’s nothing but focused. She hasn’t been more concentrated on what she’s doing ever before. This is her task. This is the trial. The one and only. The one that she keeps passing and failing at the same time for as long as she doesn’t fulfil her aim.

Focus more!, Melinoë rolls her eyes at Nemesis’ voice in her head, bouncing around as if only to annoy and distract her. Melinoë has known Nemesis for years, true, but it doesn’t change the fact that when she says such things, it doesn’t help anyone. It actually makes Melinoë wonder how in the name of Hades Hecate puts up with her. Well, no wonder she’s always been so patient with Melinoë in this case.

If Melinoë weren’t focused, she wouldn’t have just bested her Headmistress. She wouldn’t have got a praise or two from her.

They often fall on deaf ears, though. Melinoë may not show it too often but she always feels like she’s missing something. It’s like there’s a part of her that’s not entirely there and it’s a part responsible for some actual self-confidence.

It’s weird if Melinoë thinks about it. On one hand, she’s dead set on reaching Chronos as many times as it takes to fight him and win. On the other hand, however, at the end of the day (or night), she falls asleep or sits at the edge of the water, thinking how unsuitable for this whole endeavour she is. That’s when Nemesis’ words get through to her and sting. That’s when she agrees that maybe it should’ve been Nemesis diving deep into the Underworld and attempting to defeat Time.

Oh but how unsatisfied with such thinking Hecate would be! If she knew, she’d find or invent an incantation that would rid Melinoë’s mind of such concerns. And it’s likely that the Goddess would be glad for that. Maybe she should come up with such a spell on her own when things get back to normal. If things get back to normal.

Keeping her spirits up is no easy task. No matter how many wretched and foul shades Melinoë has killed, doubts are always clouding the back of her mind. Who knows – could it be that this is what’s holding her back? Could it be that all the hesitations are dimming her reason?

“In the name of Hades…” she speaks loud and clear as she looks up at the imaginary skies, Olympus. As if it wasn’t the ceiling of Oceanus shielding her from anything that’s above.

“Oh, gorgeous, it’s you again! As always – I’m happy to help, you know, something a bit different between one battle and another. Some might think that I’ve been so preoccupied with them that I’ve forgotten what my thing is! And they couldn’t be more wrong! I’d never become indifferent to the matters of the heart and neither should you, sweetness!”

“Never even planned to,” Melinoë says more to herself than to anyone, thinking about those for whom she’s got a fight to win.

Her family, friends, everyone in the Crossroads… And all the lost spirits wandering about the realms or hung somewhere in-between life and death, as the latter seems to never come.

Melinoë continues her way through the bottom of the sea, letting herself think about how disrupted the Underworld is. How tormented the souls must be now that they cannot be led to Melinoë’s father’s realm! Something inside the Princess aches at the thought and she kills the last monstrous creature probably more brutally than necessary.

The aching continues, especially as she reaches the Fields of Mourning. It’s as if this area has strengthened the feeling and added some kind of longing to it. It’s weighing down on Melinoë and she knows it’s not the time for such things, she’s got a task to fulfil. But even without the miasma clouds reaching her, she feels the stinging of loss and yearning in her vengeance-hungry heart. Nemesis could be proud. If she’s capable of being proud of Melinoë, that is.

It appears that even the attempt at calming Cerberus down is more doable than making Nemesis proud. Although it’s not always doable when Melinoë comes across the poor three-headed dog, it’s surely much more possible than pulling any sort of praise from Nemesis.

This also shouldn’t be getting to Melinoë’s head this much because she’s actually blaming herself for doing exactly that as soon as the fight becomes too much and she has to return to shadow because Cerberus has turned out to be better than her this time. Melinoë is somewhat glad that it happened, since she hates to think that despite helping the dog, she actually hurts him each time they spar. She does choose to think that she just calms him down but there’s always that doubt somewhere in the back of her head.

At least, she has Frinos who’s been accompanying her for quite a while now. At least, she doesn’t have to worry about him that much. But she’d still love Cerberus to be safe and sound at home, provided that said home is devoid of Chronos and anything that could remind someone about his ominous and unjust presence.

The thought of Cerberus being thrown out of his own place starts a fire inside Melinoë and she decides to go for another attempt right away, without talking to anyone on her way to the gate leading to the Underworld. Something catches her eye on the way there, though, and she stops her energetic step next to her plants. She couldn’t have watered them – she was out, trying to reach Chronos.

“What or who bested you this time? Scylla?” a voice from behind Melinoë asks, causing her to smile lightly and turn towards the sound. She can make an exception for one conversation.

“You underestimate me, sir,” she retorts and walks over to Odysseus who’s stood at his usual spot at the table.

“I would never, Goddess,” he says, mock-offended.

“So what was that?”

“A wild guess.” Confidence and wit beam from him. He then lifts his brow, prompting Melinoë to answer his question.

“Cerberus. Even he suffered in this whole mess. The worst thing is that even if I help him, when I come back, he’s covered in all that woe and misery again.”

“Must be a sorry sight.”

“It is. Maybe he’ll at least get accustomed to me more, however ridiculous it may seem. I’ve even tried to pet him but it must’ve been too soon. I didn’t think about it then but it could’ve ended badly,” she chuckles, drawing the same reaction from her companion. “I shall stick to Frinos, Toula and my plants for now.”

“They don’t try to kill you each time you pass them by, at least.”

“That’s true. Did it rain?”

“I watered your plants while you were absent if that’s what you’re asking.”

Melinoë gasps, her face lights up. “Thank you. You didn’t have to.”

“Well, you know I like having them around, Goddess. They bring life into here. You see, watching these shades float around here aimlessly all day can be quite disheartening. They lack any life.”

“You can’t blame them, can you? But I’m happy that this soil can brighten our days and nights, apart from serving its main purpose of providing me with resources.” She pauses for a second and then changes the topic, “but I have to go now. Keep an eye on my plants while I’m away, would you?”

“Anytime.”

Melinoë nods. “May moonlight guide you.”

“And you as well.”

Odysseus bows in a farewell and, as Melinoë walks away backwards, amused, they hold their gazes for a brief moment. Then, there’s that familiar spark in Melinoë’s eye that glimmers in determination that Odysseus admires. He also takes pride in her resolve, since he likes to think that it’s also thanks to him that Melinoë is so tightly clinging onto the task that she’s yet to fulfil. She knows he’s feeling that way, no matter how nonchalant he appears to be about it sometimes.

But his belief in her only strengthens Melinoë’s will to keep trying, whether she goes down to the Underworld or advances towards the Olympus. Defeats aren’t easy, of course, yet, when you have someone or a few someones who care about you and trust in your abilities, the vision of success becomes much more plausible, even if only for a fleeting moment.

This is it. This is what makes Melinoë keep going. This is who she’s doing it all for, apart from all her relatives that have been imprisoned and… well, the rest of the world. The joint forces do help in pursuing her ultimate goal but it’s the close ones in the Crossroads who are worth fighting for. Maybe it’s the immediate praise that Melinoë receives from the majority of her crew there that tells her to break her legs during each run – but even if, so what? Self-improvement at its finest.

It goes on and on as Melinoë traverses the woods of Erebus, slaying all the wretched souls on her way down once more. The thrill of all the close calls only intensifies the nearly primal need to just enter the House of Hades and seize back what belongs to Melinoë and her family. It’s as if it’s making Melinoë feral, fuelled by sheer passion and the desire for revenge; she’s so driven by it that it’s a wonder that she doesn’t encounter Nemesis on her way this time.

Soon, the Princess has arrived at the place that used to be her home. With more passion and even more hatred and anger, she throws herself together with Lim and Oros at all the servants of Time. She’s not the one who’s trespassing, no. They are trespassing. Chronos is trespassing. He has been doing so for much too long.

She is going to cut it short. It will happen this run. Bidding farewell to Charon, she dives into the river, only to reappear at the House of Hades, where those vile satyrs are already waiting for her and for their master’s orders. Disgusting to the core, all of it.

She’s there and it suddenly starts feeling like a waste of time. Melinoë supposes the sudden decrease of self-confidence is Chronos’ doing but it’s weighing heavily on her anyway. In spite of that, she pushes through it and, ignoring all the things Chronos says to discourage her, she manages to make him fall once and force him to rest propped against the floor in the House of Hades. It is a victory, a small one but still. She knows there’s much more to come and to face and the fear of failing grips her from the inside and squeezes. Once again, Melinoë wants to protest and not succumb to it; alas, the opposite happens. Time cannot be stopped.

If it ended with her returning to shadow and emerging in the Crossroads, it would be fine, the usual. But it doesn’t happen and the invisible hand squeezes Melinoë’s insides even tighter. She feels short of breath just as she’d used to feel before she cast an incantation and made herself resistant to the surface air.

For a moment, Melinoë is in some sort of a limbo. Hung between life and shadow, kept there against her will. Try though she might, Melinoë is unable to return to the safety of the Crossroads.

Instead, she’s served a vision of Tartarus, of a very specific chamber there, in fact. She’s painfully aware of the fact that Chronos is again behind all these visions and she can’t be sure whether she should trust him with these images or not. Melinoë would love to think this is all untrue and never happened but something inside of her, something like a gut feeling, is causing her to believe each and every moment she’s a witness to.

So she believes it when she sees what Chronos has done to her father. What tricks he’s pulled to force him to tell the Titan where the Fates are and Hades has always remained silent. No matter how much pain he’s been made to endure, he never said a word. It almost looks like he’s taking pleasure and satisfaction in angering Chronos and Melinoë is proud of her father, for which she’s scolded by the reverberating and distorted voice of Chronos.

There’s ringing in her head because of it and she’s dearly hoping her head won’t explode and her eardrums won’t burst. The tension and aching envelops her head and then the nape of her neck and travels down and throughout her whole body. Chronos’ voice is distant now, though still pulsing and expanding between Melinoë’s ears while she’s being fed the visions of Cerberus getting thrown out of the House by Chronos’ armies. She sees miasmas creep onto him and taint his fur until it’s a sad grey-brown hue. Until it drips with regret and woe that drill into all three of his heads and turn him into a cold and instinct-driven beast.

There are eyes watching her in the darkness. Chronos’ eyes, her father’s eyes, all of the dog’s eyes and hundreds and hundreds eyes of Chronos’ subjects. They all swirl and melt into one mass accompanied by the ringing that’s making the whole image shake and twist, and dim, and Melinoë’s going to go insane and she can’t bear it anymore, and it’s all so scary and she wants to be back in the Crossroads, and she wants to see Dora in her tent, and meet Moros by the Fated List and…

“Get out of my head!” Melinoë yells, her voice all croaky and hurting her ears.

She bolts upright and finds herself sitting in her own stone circle, with Frinos behind her. She glances at him over her shoulder, noticing his confused and worried look, and she’s concerned for him immediately.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to scare you,” she rasps out, rubbing her eyes with her hand. As soon as she’s right by her familiar, kissing his wet and chilly nose, three voices come from the inside of the tent.

“Princess?”

“Goddess?”

“Mel?”

Melinoë sighs and shakes her head, trying to get rid of the remnants of the visions she’s just had and all the sounds that threatened to render her deaf.

“I’m… I’m alright!”

It’s weak and unconvincing and Melinoë knows that. Yet another burden to haunt her for days to come. But she’ll weather it. She has done so before.

Melinoë scrambles up onto her feet and enters her tent, where she meets three figures, each of them sporting confusion and worry of various degrees on their faces.

“You’re sure you’re alright?”

“Yes, Dora.” Yes, totally unconvincing. “Why do you always act like it’s something… out of the ordinary?”

“Goddess, it’s been a while since the last time you…” Odysseus weighs his words carefully, seeing the glare Melinoë’s sending him. “… had a nightmare like this. I always wonder if it’s…” He’s said too much, he’s aware of that. So are Dora and Melinoë. Moros will soon find out.

Say it, challenges Melinoë’s stare but she’s impatient, so she provides them all with it. “Traumatising? For you all – it may be.”

Her eyelid twitches and no one says a word for a long couple of seconds that drag out into eternity. Dora’s too brave for her own good to break the silence each time they find themselves in a situation like this.

“Well, it’s the first time for the horned man here, so… You’re feeling traumatised by any chance?” the shade asks in a half-whisper as she leans over to Moros.

“No, not at all. It’s simply unspeakably sad.”

“Don’t pity her,” Dora adds just as sneakily as before.

“Nothing I’m not used to.” Melinoë lets out an exhale, dropping her look down onto the ground. A split second is enough for her to glance at Moros and notice the unvoiced sympathy in his now mildly concerned gaze. This silent line of communication puts the Princess at ease.

“Anything we could do, Goddess?” Odysseus asks, care lacing his words.

“Yeah, get out of our tent,” Dora says, knowing Melinoë is grateful for that. “Both of you, out!” her voice fades a little as she shoos the two men away. “Really, you could’ve figured that out yourselves. At least you, mister super good tactician. Acting like it’s your first day here, really! Dream yourself a nightmare if you still wanna help.” The shade then comes back to Melinoë, a lopsided and awkward smile on Dora’s lips. “Are you really sure you’re alright, Mel?”

“I’ve told you already. I appreciate your care but… it’s nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing to me. That Chronos guy is getting into your head too much if you ask me. Quite literally. Talk about it with the big witch, maybe?”

“She can’t do anything about it. It’s just… it’s just me. No one can change that.”

“Looks like the bad boy is doing exactly that, Mel,” Dora states plainly and floats closer to Melinoë, who’s sat down on her pouf. “You see, I’m just a shade here and know nothing about the stuff you do by that cauldron out there but… no sleep spells? Anything of the sort?”

Melinoë ponders over Dora’s words. While there’s certainly a spell of the kind, it probably won’t work on Melinoë. It’s most likely life-changing for mortals and, if lucky, other gods and goddesses, yet not for Melinoë. Not for the Goddess of Nightmares and Madness. She wouldn’t be one without knowing all about these things.

“I know a few,” Melinoë says finally. “But they’re not for me.”

“Not even gonna give it a try?”

“They wouldn’t work on me, Dora. No use trying. A waste of time.”

All the things Melinoë’s seen in that particular dream stay with her for the next couple of days, resulting in her being in a more foul mood than usually. If that’s not enough, her own mind keeps sabotaging her and refusing to sleep as much as she’d desire, so that she wouldn’t risk becoming vulnerable to Chronos’ influence on her.

The Princess understands his motives, though. Melinoë knows far too well that Chronos is intrigued by her doings and maybe, just maybe, a bit afraid of her growing more powerful – powerful enough to finally beat him.

At some point, Melinoë is certain that Chronos would imprison her if she weren’t as elusive as she is. She thanks Hecate for that internally, for having taught her everything that she knows.

But what is it that she knows?

The combat. The will to fight and keep pushing to bring death upon Chronos and feast over his dead form. The deep-rooted need to restore the way things used to be. The habit of remembering about self-growth and self-worth. Maintaining a high self-esteem – something that Melinoë is not the best at.

Spirits leave her as soon as she thinks about that, sitting on the pier and staring at Cocytus, listening to the flowing water. She had her legs hanging over the edge but now she’s pulled them to herself and embraced them, hugging herself, bringing comfort. Sadly, no solace comes and, despite having so many allies and friends around, she can’t cheer herself up.

Melinoë noticed it long ago that she’s got the moments when she’s happy, when the joy merges with and strengthens the determination. But then, some inconvenience happens and she’s dragged down into the dumps again. Melinoë would like to be happier, she really would. Yet, given her task and whatever it is that’s happening in the world, it’s not that easy.

At least, she cries very rarely these days.

“Mind if I join you, Princess?” the sudden sound of the familiar warm voice behind Melinoë startles her. “I didn’t want to scare you. My apologies.”

“It’s alright, Lord Moros,” Melinoë replies, looking over her shoulder at Doom Incarnate. “Here, join me,” she offers kindly and chuckles internally at the other god’s hesitation.

It’s not impolite. It’s somewhat awkward in a really charming way and Melinoë understands that her companion has probably never indulged himself in pastimes that are common in the Crossroads.

So Moros joins Melinoë, now sat down next to her. His sheer presence has something grounding to it, something that makes the Princess stick to the here and now for the time being.

“Princess, if I may, I’ve been wondering if you’re…”

“Yes, I am fine,” Melinoë sighs, knowing the question before it leaves Moros’ lungs. “Please, don’t apologise, my Lord.”

“How do you know I wanted to?” he asks, slightly amused.

“Prove me wrong,” Melinoë says and makes their eyes meet. “Do you have nightmares?”

Moros is taken aback by the enquiry that he didn’t expect. The baffled look on his face brings a smile onto Melinoë’s lips as she keeps observing the god.

“I could bet that you possess this kind of knowledge already. I even dare to say that you remember every detail that appears in my dreams.”

“In nightmares. Dreams don’t interest me that much.” Melinoë shrugs and stares back at the water. “And I could find out what happens in your nightmares if I wanted to. Look into every tiny bit and moment. But I’d rather hear it from you, my Lord, so that I don’t reach the places that aren’t necessarily for my eyes to see.”

“That’s very considerate of you, Princess. And to answer your question – I do have nightmares.”

“What are they about, then?”

“Lately, time stops in my dreams. Either nothing and no one around me happens or moves or I am the one stuck and unable to do anything.”

“It seems that Chronos hasn’t got into my head only.”

“I don’t think it’s something to be compared. Let’s say that our relationships with the Titan of Time are not entirely similar, won’t you agree, Princess?”

“That’s true.” Melinoë nods. “After all, you’re not the one screaming at night, waking up half of the Crossroads. I should be the one apologising to you all.” Melinoë exhales, glueing her eyes to the surface of the water, aware of Moros’ soft and sympathetic look on her.

She hugs her knees even closer to herself and wills her voice not to shake as she continues to speak.

“Lord Moros, I… I do all I can to stop the damage that Chronos is causing and yet… it never seems to be enough. What I mean is that even though he can’t reach this safe haven of ours, he can still somehow drill himself into our minds. Your minds.”

“Princess, you don’t know others’ nightmares, do you?”

“No, why?”

“Then, how can you know if Chronos has invaded the minds of everyone else in the Crossroads? Who knows why I am the one dreaming about time-related matters, apart from you, of course. If I were to guess, I’d say it’s because Chronos has captured the Fates to whom, as you know, I am closely related.”

As Melinoë mulls over Moros’ words, he adds, “what I am certain of is that it is not a coincidence that I dream about such things. The Fates may be imprisoned but they can have other ways that we are not aware of. That Chronos is not aware of, either.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way.”

“Let’s.”

With Moros’ utterance being released into the chilly air, Melinoë rests her chin on her knees. Listening to Doom Incarnate’s soothing voice calmed her racing thoughts down and brought the comfort that she was looking for. Although they’ve been talking about serious affairs, Moros’ honey-like tone and clear articulation worked like some sort of a protective blanket that shields one from the outside world. A moment of respite from all the mayhem in the Underworld and on the Surface.

“Princess?”

“Hm?” Melinoë turns to look at Moros once again.

“I hope you don’t find this inappropriate or simply wrong but… Why don’t you meet me in my dreams sometime?” he wonders a tad sheepishly, dragging his eyes up to lock them with Melinoë’s.

“That means nothing but nightmares for you, my Lord,” she answers, sniggering, sparks dancing in her mismatched irises.

“I think your presence there would make it more than bearable.”

Melinoë doesn’t know what to say and she blushes. Moros blushes too.

Next time Melinoë wakes up, it’s not out of a nightmare or because of a nightmare. This morning feels refreshing and Melinoë hasn’t even properly opened her eyes yet. It doesn't take long for her to put two and two together to work out that someone in the Crossroads must’ve had a nightmare – hence her unusual good mood in the morning or, in fact, evening.

Even Dora is surprised with the sight of Melinoë and the aura that’s surrounding her. Obviously, the shade doesn’t spare a comment or two, wondering who the unlucky person or shade that provided Melinoë with such energy was. If shades can dream, that is. Dora surely can’t and she’s on the verge of asking Melinoë to bring her a nightmare but resigns from it in the end. Maybe some other time.

Melinoë almost dashes out of her tent, looking for the poor soul who got caught in the snares of night terrors brought upon them by Melinoë herself. It’s not that she does it on purpose. She could, which is widely known in the area, but it’s not fun for her to worsen someone else’s sleep. She’d rather suffer such consequences on her own, without forcing anyone else to experience such things. Sometimes, however, it just happens and Melinoë lets it continue, basking in the power that someone’s nightmares provide her with.

She knows when someone’s dreams are taking the wrong turn. She is also able to find out who is having a nightmare and what the dream is about. But, just like with Moros, she chooses not to enter others’ minds without invitation. Something that Chronos could learn too.

In fact, Melinoë can let out a relieved sigh when she’s assured that no, Lord Moros did not have a terrible nightmare. She sometimes still treats him like a guest and doesn’t want to infringe the hospitality in any way. The other part of her is getting accustomed to Doom’s presence there and has been enjoying it more and more with time. If it were up to Melinoë, she’d gladly have Moros as yet another inhabitant of the Crossroads.

Coming back to the nightmares – after a quick reconnaissance, it becomes clear that it’s Odysseus who’s fallen victim to night terrors and because of whom Melinoë is so full of life and vigour today. She feels sorry for him immediately, for she knows that all the work he’s been doing for her, Hecate and everyone else who wants the old world back has been more than demanding. And for this kind of effort, he surely deserves some good rest.

“Evening, Goddess! Glad to see you in high spirits,” Odysseus greets Melinoë with the usual melody of his voice, trying not to let the tiredness slip through it.

“Evening, Od.” Melinoë bows her head and smiles softly in embarrassment. “Sadly, the high spirits of mine are all at your expense. Sorry, it wasn’t on purpose.”

“How many times have we all told you not to apologise for such things?”

“It’s not that easy, sir!”

“The thing is that even if you did it on purpose, none of us would mind. No matter what it takes, we will help you find and fight Chronos. Even at the expense of our sleep.”

“Are you sure that everyone here shares this view?” Melinoë raises an eyebrow and although Odysseus is visibly worn out, he gets the hint and a smirk rises onto his lips.

“Well, to a certain extent – yes. Maybe those who don’t should put themselves in your shoes once in a while.”

The urge to tell Odysseus that this is exactly what Nemesis is doing is irresistible. And, after all, Melinoë wasn’t supposed to tell Hecate – no one has ever mentioned Odysseus.

“They’re trying to. Or they just want to get the task done before me. To prove a point, I suppose.” Melinoë shrugs, glancing at the cauldron and the area around it, making sure that Hecate is nowhere near.

“She’s not going to succeed, that much I can tell,” Odysseus says with conviction, the tone somewhat devoid of its usual power now. It must be the exhaustion.

“Another wild guess or have you and Lord Moros had a conversation about fate and all and that’s your conclusion?” Melinoë folds her arms, amused. At the same time, she’s just genuinely curious.

“That’s what we call an educated guess, Goddess. Though, I wouldn’t recommend it while trying to understand the ways of the opponent.”

“Thanks for the advice, sir.”

“Anytime.”

The Princess follows Odysseus’ advice, as always. She has that tendency to cling onto the words of people she trusts the most. Because why wouldn’t she? Especially when it comes to Hecate and Odysseus; after all, these two have been accompanied her during her journey from the very beginning. They have taught her all that she knows and is capable of. And it’s not Melinoë’s fault that she’s treated Hecate like a mother for longer than she’d like to admit.

It’s the only way in which it could’ve gone.

Somehow, Melinoë has never seen Odysseus as her father, or anyone of the kind, for that matter. Od has always been Od.

The nightmare-fuelled energy and the thought of Hecate’s and Odysseus’ teachings is what keeps Melinoë going today. She passes through Erebus with ease, beating the Headmistress in no time. Oceanus is manageable and so are the Fields of Mourning, with Cerberus causing a bit more trouble than usual. She actually meets him once again in Tartarus, guarding his one and only master while he still can – before he gets thrown out onto the Fields by Chronos’ servants or even the Titan himself.

She talks to her father about the three-headed dog this time, so that they don’t focus on how dangerous and impossible Melinoë’s task is. It’s a welcome change and the topic of the conversation seems to start to form some sort of hope inside old Hades. Cerberus’ enthusiasm and trust towards Melinoë seem to be growing as well, even if only for this moment. It’s something that Melinoë treasures and stores in her heart for when she’s faced Chronos again.

“You’re only wasting your time, little one. I thought you were focused solely on that idiotic task of yours and yet, you have proved me wrong. Making acquaintances and friends with everyone is only slowing you down. Not that you’ve made too much of a progress by now,” speaks Chronos, a wicked smile plastered on his face, his eyes squinting at Melinoë.

“If anything, people I find dear are only making it all faster and smoother, Chronos. But I won’t elaborate – you wouldn’t know anyway,” Melinoë retorts, her nose crinkled up, eyes focused, hands gripping Lim and Oros tightly.

“Silence! Waste of time, all of that! Including your futile efforts in my house!”

Sadly, the Titan is right and Melinoë is forced to return to shadow and emerge with a gasp leaving her lungs. It’s as if she’s just woken up from a deep slumber when she finds she’s lying in her stone circle. It actually looks like she’s been asleep for quite a while and it’s a weird sensation. Her arm hurts in a way that indicates that she must’ve been napping with it under her head. Very strange.

Frinos is also asleep on his stone. The whole area is quite quiet and Dora is also nowhere to be found. Once Melinoë looks out of her tent, it turns out that everyone is sleeping in their own abodes and Melinoë has returned from the House of Hades at an unusual hour.

The problem is that she doesn’t necessarily want to go back to sleep after that. And she doesn’t want to venture out and towards Chronos again either. At least, he didn’t force any visions upon her this time. It’s a relief, something that has Melinoë letting out a long exhale into the chilly air of the Crossroads.

Goosebumps appear on her forearms and she enjoys the feeling. A thought then comes to her mind – why not warm up? Now that sounds like a fantastic idea and Melinoë knows just the spot for such an activity.

Of course, she’d love to have someone to accompany her to the Hot Spring but she’s not going to run around the Crossroads waking others up and asking them if they fancy a soak with her. Maybe it’s not really a custom to have a bath alone but Melinoë simply has to occupy herself with something and a dip in the Springs seems lovely and relaxing.

So she does just that. Melinoë is also enjoying the solitude, for there’s always someone around – be it her friends and allies or enemies and other foul creatures. Now, she can be alone with her thoughts that she effectively mutes out, so that she can focus only on herself and some rest.

Melinoë’s managed to slide down the backrest, so that the water’s now reaching her chin and the warmth enveloping her is doing wonders for her sore muscles. The soft sounds of the woods and the Spring itself are providing her with pleasant ambience and she can’t remember the last time she’d been equally relaxed.

The sensation is only strengthened by some seemingly unknown aura that falls upon the Hot Spring and that is noticed by Melinoë immediately. She opens one of her eyes and then the other and it’s like there’s some inaudible melody lulling her into further relaxation. She smiles to herself but still searches her surroundings for anyone who could be playing such tricks at this hour.

As soon as the Princess faces the other end of the tub, she jumps in her seat, covering her mouth with her hand, disbelief filling her to the core.

“Can it really be…?” she mutters, her eyes growing wider as they’re reflecting the light pink glow illuminating the place.

“Ah, yes, gorgeous, it can!” announces the honey-sweet voice that Melinoë falls in love with the moment she hears it so close to herself. “I sensed you taking a hot bath alone and I couldn’t not join you! You don’t know how difficult it was to reach you down here but, as you can see, everything’s worked out excellent!”

“Lady Aphrodite, I… I’m so glad that you’re here and… honestly, I didn’t think any of you Olympians are actually able to access this spot of ours,” Melinoë admits, eyeing the Goddess of Love from head to toe, unable to hide the amazement caused by her beauty and presence in the Crossroads. “What brings you here, my Lady?”

“You, of course! I may be busy with the ongoing war against that old Titan but I can’t turn a blind eye to what is going on in your heart, despite you so skilfully denying that inner battle.”

“I’m sorry, my Lady, I don’t quite understand, I think?”

“No need to be shy around me, sweetness!” Aphrodite announces brightly and sends Melinoë a reassuring smile. She leans forwards, forming waves on the surface of the water, her long and smooth hair floating in the steaming blue. Having locked her eyes with Melinoë, she continues, “you mustn’t forget about yourself in all this… mess, my dear. It can’t be healthy.”

“With all due respect, Lady Aphrodite, I don’t seem to have time for the matters of the heart these days,” the Princess confesses timidly.

“Nonsense!” Aphrodite waves her hand dismissively. “There’s always time for that, regardless of how much we all hate that word right now. What I think – and believe me, I know best – is that you need to let yourself feel what your heart so dearly wants to feel. Whether it’s towards Lord Moros or… whoever it is that that muscle of yours beats faster for anytime you see them!”

“What if I don’t know… What if I’m not sure who they are?”

“You know this, Melinoë. You’ve known for a long time. Do you want to hear what else it is that I know?” Aphrodite smirks, a spark of mischief dancing in her eye.

“I don’t have a choice, do I?” Melinoë sniggers, causing Aphrodite to do the same.

“Oh, gorgeous, let me tell you – although Lord Moros is a real looker, someone else has been even more than that to you all this time. Doom himself, despite his terrific looks, merely makes your heart flutter but someone else, it seems to me, makes it race whenever you let yourself indulge in such emotions. And you haven’t done so for much too long in my opinion, sweetness.”

Aphrodite looks a tad offended and Melinoë is nearly sure that the Goddess of Love isn’t bothered at all. If anything, this situation is humouring her. It’s also making Melinoë think about the feelings and emotions that she’s been pushing aside all this time because she’s found other things more important than pondering over what her heart could want. Does it even want anything?

She’s been so focused on the big endeavour that she may have as well neglected that part of her life. But it’s not without a reason, is it? Haven’t the Fates decided that it be this way, at least for the time being?

“You’re a little confused, aren’t you, love?” Aphrodite wonders softly, her eyes kind.

“I am, Lady Aphrodite. Honestly, I haven’t had time to even get lost in any daydreaming. All this mess up on Olympus and in the Underworld has been drawing my attention away from any inner dilemmas that I could have.”

“Spare yourself a while to think about that, then, alright? These matters aren’t the easiest to handle, which I’m sure you know, but I’m only giving you a fair warning, hm? But you’ll work it out. You’ll see how better you’ll feel once you’ve got the hang of it.”

“But, Lady Aphrodite, will it not distract me from my task?” Melinoë asks, worried.

The Goddess of Love moves right in front of the Princess and cups her face between her warm and smooth hands. Melinoë is mesmerised by the appearance and the proximity of the other woman and she can’t say her heart doesn’t skip a beat or two right now. But Aphrodite herself isn’t paying this too much attention, for she knows the effect she has on both humans and gods alike.

Said proximity also helps Aphrodite get her point across, no matter how in awe Melinoë is because of the Goddess. Aphrodite has dealt with worse cases, she can’t be discouraged by this mere display of admiration.

“It may. A little. But fret not, gorgeous, you shall find that it’s all been worth the tiny distraction here and there. After all, do you feel distracted when you know that someone cares for your plants during your absence?”

Aphrodite tilts her head to the side and her smile grows wider at the sudden increase in Melinoë’s heart rate. The young Goddess manages to calm it down but it hasn’t gone unnoticed by the Goddess of Love nonetheless.

“Not much, no.” Melinoë blushes a tad and chuckles awkwardly. “But it’s something really nice to think about before I go to sleep.”

“Stick to that and work on it, sweetness. You’ve got it!”

The brightness in Aphrodite’s eyes fills Melinoë with some newfound will to actually try all the things that the Goddess of Love has suggested. It can’t do too much harm, right?

“Good luck, my dear. I can already tell that something wonderful is going to bloom out of this.”

The awkward smile that’s lingered on Melinoë’s lips transforms into a much happier one when Aphrodite shares a soft and encouraging kiss with her. It nearly feels like this powerful force of love has just flowed right into Melinoë’s heart, ready to be let out and given to someone who’s worthy of that might.

Even though Melinoë wants to say something, probably thank Aphrodite, she stays silent as she notices that there’s no one before her anymore. She’s once again all alone in the Hot Spring.

[nikinikori]

Odysseus my love but holy mother of FUCK what sorcery does your voice have—

Also, shiiiiiippp??? 👀