|Kate Tierney | Hecate (khthonie) wrote in paxletalelogs,|
@ 2017-07-31 15:02:00
|Entry tags:||hades, hecate|
if I close my eyes forever
Who: Obed [Hades] and Kate [Hecate]
What: Hades and Hecate meet Kate’s grandfather. Obed and Kate meet up on the Finnish floor.
Where: Underworld, then the 7th floor of Pax
When: Monday, April 17 night, then Tuesday, April 18 morning
Hecate stirred as if from a deep reverie. The ever-burning flames of her torches still glowed, but she didn’t know how much time had passed while she sat there in one of the rooms of the Underworld’s palace. A presence had disturbed her, and she looked around idly to see what it was.
A little man, clearly elderly when he had died, was standing a few feet from her, looking around curiously. His gaze seemed to focus on objects for only a moment before unfocusing again and moving on to something else. He looked at her. “Kate?” he asked, eyes scrunching, and then his attention roamed elsewhere.
Hecate’s interest piqued, and she sat up straighter in her chair, but before she could respond or do anything, she sensed another presence enter the room behind her. It drew closer, until at last it loomed over her, casting a shadow that covered her seat and the cold floor beyond.
"Why does he call you this?" Hades asked. "He speaks as if he is familiar with you. It is inappropriate."
For a long moment the goddess watched the old man, who was examining the ivy around one of the stone bricks in the wall. “I know him,” she finally replied, slowly, images and memories not her own filling her head. “Or, rather, my host knows him. He is her grandfather.” She continued to study the man, not fighting the feelings of warmth and love that enveloped her.
Hades did not appear impressed. "And what is that to you?" He studied her face, his eyes like chips of ice set in pale marble. "I trust you will treat him no differently than any other." Concern smoothed his features into a veritable mask. "Our hosts are ours to manipulate, not the other way 'round. Be careful, Hecate, that you do not get attached to her loved ones."
Hecate turned to face the god of death, a smolder forming in her eyes where there had not been a moment ago. The torches on the walls flared. “You care too little for mortals,” she said harshly. “And give me too little credit. We will achieve our goals, Hades, but we need not destroy in the process.”
The movement of the fire startled the old man. He looked around, saw Hecate, and smiled broadly. “There you are, ciasteczka. Wait right there, I have a surprise for you.” He held his hands out toward her, fingers splayed, in a “stay put” gesture before leaving the room.
Hecate watched him go, detachedly amused, wondering what this spirit meant to do when he came back, if he did not forget and wander back to the Elysian fields. The spark in her eyes dimmed as if she had never gotten angry, her mind, at least, moving on from Hades’ critical words. “The veil is thin now. I do not…” she waved a hand over her face, “...do not know how much time has passed. The waiting is like a dream.”
"Perhaps for the best," Hades said. "Eternity can be maddening when one is too aware of its passage." He turned his gaze from the wandering spirit, whose progress he could still follow through the depths of his realm. He looked instead to Hecate, studying her calmed expression. "Is his recognition of your host a function of that thinning?" He moved closer to her, a shadow in the dark hall, so deep he seemed to swallow up the light of the torches around them. "Can we expect to see more of this, from others?"
“I know no more than you do.” She watched him move closer, the darkness creeping forward, and suddenly she felt trapped, as she had never felt in all her long existence. She wanted out of this place, to feel the open air around her, to see the stars of her family across the night sky. Now she knew the frustrated longing of the being Fenrir she had encountered so long ago. She wanted to see him again, to free herself from this stasis that felt like the deaths of the mortal souls around her.
“The time must be getting closer,” she continued, “for us to come forth and be as we once were. It is too long since I have wandered among mortals. Too long since they have forgotten my name.” Hecate thought of her host, this Kate, who would soon know the goddess inside her, a transformation that filled Hecate both with power and with pity for the tiny human’s futile struggle against it.
"They remember," Hades said. "Somewhere deep down they remember. And we will ensure those memories come to the fore."
Hecate was nodding in response when the old man returned, bearing something in his hands. He was beaming proudly as he walked over to the goddess and placed the round object, cradled in a dish towel, on the table in front of her. “Your favorite,” he said, and with a flourish removed the tinfoil covering. “Apple and honey crumble pie.” He clearly waited for her response, still grinning as he examined her expression.
There was no harm in playing along, in bringing this soul some peace. She smiled back. “Thank you, dziadzi,” she said, recalling the word from Kate’s childhood. The old man clapped his hands in delight and, mission accomplished, wandered back out.