“His mother,” Hecate said, but slower this time. “His mother!” Both Hermes and Aeëtes looked at her in confusion. Hecate ran over and grabbed hold of Aeëtes’s face, kissing him soundly. Hermes made a catcalling sound and applauded, Hecate grinning wildly when she stepped back.
“Yourmother,Aeëtes,” Hecate was ecstatic. “I was worried that the spell to break Hera’s curse wouldn’t work without Clymene. It’ll work with your adoptive mother.”
Aeëtes’s eyes got wide as he stared at her, his mouth slowly splitting into a wide grin.
“The gods,” he swore. “I think you’re right.”
“Why didn’t I think of this before?” Hecate shook her head as she looked around the room. “I guess I hadn’t seen the two of you together, I didn’t understand that you were close. Blood ties don’t matter. Of course. She’s your mother. She raised you, and she loves you. It’ll work.”
“Once again, I’m glad to see that I am truly the answer to everyone’s problems.” Hermes smiled, standing up from the table and moving towards the door. “Don’t forget what I said, Hecate, if you need a third—”
“We’ll ask who you recommend!” Aeëtes hollered in response, making Hecate snort with laughter and an outraged Hermes squawk as he disappeared on the wind.
? ? ?
Hecate and Aeëtesmade it back to Colchis, happy to find that there had been no lasting damage to the palace. Aeëtes learned that they had been gone a week and that time moved a little bit differently in the Underworld. The queen was more than happy to assist Hecate, who with a finger prick of blood and some dirt from the palace grounds, was easily able to reverse Hera’s spell. Aeëtes had been picked up on the wind with a burst of bright, golden light—for a moment, Hecate was worried that he had been turned into a ram again. Luckily, he landed on only two strong feet, with the Golden Fleece wrapped around his waist.
The king was more than happy to keep it in Colchis although they were sure that the tale would end up on the wind soon enough. Hecate even had the king formally break Faidra and Aeëtes’s engagement, and Faidra made it back to Athens and straight into the arms of her beloved.
The tension between the king and Aeëtes came to a head over dinner one evening as he continued to argue that Aeëtes should take over, even if just to protect the fleece from people who would inevitably come to find it. To Hecate’s surprise, he had agreed—on one condition. His parents had to stay on as regents for all the time he planned on spending in the Underworld. The portal to Asphodel that Hecate had opened up in their battle with Hera had remained, making it easy enough for them to commute between the two places. Of course, Aeëtes couldn’t be sure how much time passed when they were gone, and he often found himself a little… distracted, once they were alone. The king learned quickly not to demand too many answers about what they’d gotten up to when he complained they were gone for too long.
A few months later, Hecate and Aeëtes were on the banks of Lethe, which had become a rather macabre, romantic spot for the two of them.
“It’s fitting for the necromancer,” Aeëtes had grinned, pressing another kiss to Hecate’s brow.
She snuggled into his side, her hand making small patterns on his chest. There was nothing between them anymore, and he was overjoyed each day to find her continuously growing ever comfortable with him. She managed to surprise him in the best of ways, pushing him when they needed it and knowing when they needed space. Sometimes, they still quarreled, although now they made up in ways that had become rather annoying to anyone within earshot.
They had seemingly overcome the insurmountable—ending with broken curses, one dead queen of the gods, and a new title for Aeëtes. He had gone from an immortal crown prince to an immortal king and consort to a goddess.
Hecate, one could wager, broke the greatest curse of all—the one that ages ago, she had placed around her own heart.
Aeëtes watched as she fell asleep next to him, neither of them willing to move just yet. No part of him yearned for his freedom anymore. In fact, he knew now that the best things in life sometimes happened when you were standing still.
I ended up with the greatest adventure of all.
Epilogue
Thanatos was spending a few, precious moments in the Underworld — the God of Death’s services were always in demand and breaks were few and far between — when a sudden sense of drowsiness threatened to overtake him. He blinked rapidly, sitting up straighter on the throne he kept in his receiving hall. A throne he hardly ever sat on, in a home that hardly ever got used. He had protested its creation at the start.
“Why do I even need a residence, mother?” Thanatos rolled his eyes at Nyx, the Goddess of Night. He was one of the few creatures in existence who was able to do so and live. She scoffed in return.
“It sends a message and it’s nice to have some place to come home to.”
“Not when it’s empty.”
It had been a thousand years. The house was still empty. It was tucked into the mouth of a cave, next to the source of Lethe. Thanatos had never gotten around to decorating it, or letting Hecate do it, much to her chagrin. Although, the throne had been a nice touch. It was a gift from his twin brother, Hypnos, and while Thanatos had scoffed at its obvious macabre — he had come to appreciate the chair carved from bone. He ran his finger across a skull embedded in the arm, trying to will away the onset dreariness. Gods didn’t get tired. The God of Death never got tired. That was a job for…
“Hypnos!” Thanatos barked, his deep voice echoing out through the spacious rafters. “Don’t sneak up on me like that or I’ll —”
“You’ll do what? Kill me?” Hypnos’s laughter mixed with the echoes of his brother’s booming commands until they both faded away. White smoke poured down from the ceiling, spiraling towards the ground in a vortex. The smoke suddenly dissipated in a burst of poppies, and standing in the middle of the fray, was Hypnos.
“You know that killing isn’t technically part of my job description. And do youhaveto show up like that every time? Are the flowers really necessary?” Thanatos groaned and leaned further back. He was sitting on the throne haphazardly, with his legs bent over one arm and his head over the other. He rubbed his brow as if he had a headache.
Hypnos only smiled, a soft, lazy grin, as one might expect. Even though they were twins, there were very few physical similarities between the brothers. Thanatos stood nearly a head taller than almost every other god in their mortal forms. Hypnos only came up to his brother’s shoulder. Thanatos had black hair that was so dark, it was almost blue, like his eyes; Hypnos’s hair was white and his eyes were a golden yellow. It fit them. The God of Death, tall and immovable, made for violence, and the God of Sleep, peaceful and almost sunny in his disposition, despite his work by moonlight.
“They’re not just flowers,” Hypnos hissed, “They’re poppies. Don’t be insulting.” He took a few steps up the dais where Thanatos had been trying to enjoy a few moments of solitude.
“If you insist on showing up here in a cloud of flowers, you’re subjecting yourself to my mockery.” Thanatos growled, his eyes still closed.
