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These words will be written on my stone
Just his luck, Harry thinks. Did the Lord of the Underworld really have to take a liking to him? Apparently so. Why? Why him?
“Harry dear, Louis wants to see you”, Anne, his Mum, says.
“Where am I supposed to meet him? In the depths of Tartarus? The River Styx maybe? Or does he often meet his dates in Elysium?” Harry says sarcastically.
“His palace in the Underworld, he says he’s built a giant throne for you already.”
“Oh Lord. I don’t think he expects me to stay? I prefer sunny meadows with daisies over the dark, gloomy fields of Asphodel, thank you very much.”
“Harry, sweetheart, he is the Lord of the Underworld. He’s one of the Big Three. I don’t think you have any choice”, Anne sighs.
“I don’t want to go”, Harry protests. Outside, thunder rumbles and he rolls his eyes at the grey clouds hanging over his mother’s normally sunny meadows. Apparently Zeus doesn’t quite like his attitude.
“Honey, he’ll get you to marry him whether you want to or not. He said that if you come willingly, you may spend two seasons above ground and you have to spend two seasons in the Underworld.”
“And not coming isn’t a choice, clearly.” He can hear the sarcasm in his own voice. “It’s the twenty-first century we live in! There’s freedom of speech and freedom of press and freedom of religion. Why can’t I have freedom of who I marry?”
Anne gives an exasperated sigh. “Baby, the less you fight the easier it will be. Please just do it for me, okay? No struggle means you get to spend two seasons above ground.”
“Fine”, Harry says. “Shall I start packing?”
“Louis says that isn’t necessary. He’ll have everything ready for you when you arrive.”
“Does that include underwear?” Outside, lightning flashes and Harry sighs. “Fine, fine. Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Zeus.” More thunder. Zeus doesn’t handle jokes very well. Quite a temper, that man has.
“The entrance to the Underworld is in Los Angeles”, Anne tells him. “Be careful, honey. I’ll see you in spring.” Great. He only has to survive in the Underworld through fall and winter and he can return to Earth in spring.
“And you’re sure I can actually enter the Underworld while I’m still alive? I don’t have to die first or something?”
-
Apparently not, he thinks when he slowly approaches the entrance. It’s right behind the Hollywood sign. How fancy. “Hello?” he calls. Grey smoke swirls around him and it takes him a few moments to realize it’s not smoke, but deceased souls moving around him, thousands at the time. There’s also soft hissing and whispering but it’s too vague to make sense of it.
“Are you Harry?” Harry has trouble locating the voice but eventually, his eyes get used to the dim light of the candles in the otherwise dark area and he spots a hooded man standing in a small boat. The ferryman Charon. The souls move and move around him and on one hand, he wants to see them, see who they are but on the other hand, he’s scared to recognize faces he knows. So he doesn’t look at them and focuses on Charon instead.
“Yes, I’m Harry. You must be Charon. It’s nice to meet you.” Despite this whole Underworld thing, Harry manages to stick by his manners and he extends his hand to the ferryman. Charon looks at it strangely. Maybe manners are a rare thing in the Underworld. He doesn’t think Louis ever shook hands with Charon before hiring him. If that’s even how it works. So he retreats his hand and gets in the boat. “Where are we headed?”
“Hades’ palace.”
“I thought his name was Louis?” Harry says confused.
“He goes by many names.” And he takes off. Gee, thanks for the absolute flood of information, Harry thinks. Charon sounds as though he’s slowly turning into one of the grey smoky souls himself. But, Harry concludes, he probably would too if he spent centuries with desperate, crying souls. They reach a muddy brown river, filled with trash and garbage. The River Styx, Harry knows.
“What is all this?”
“Human misery. Lost hopes and dreams from centuries.” So naturally, Harry sticks his hand in the river (it doesn’t feel like water at all) and fishes out a broken mirror. The mirror is stained with mud and a sticky red substance that is probably blood. So he slowly drops it back into the Styx and watches other things float by. A pocket watch. An ancient Greek helmet. Glasses. A lighter. A pair of scissors.
“We’re here”, Charon announces. “I cannot take you any further. Ask the ghouls to let you past Cerberus. They’ll know it’s you.” Cerberus. Giant, three-headed dog. Kind of scary, Harry notes when he sees the shadow of three dog heads move on the wall where he’s dropped off. Cerberus looks like a Rottweiler, only this one has three heads.
When the ghouls order him not to eat Harry, Cerberus seems to be looking a little sad. So Harry approaches him (he can nearly hear his mother screaming at him, asking if he has a death wish ‘because it is about to get fulfilled!’) and fishes out a little rubber ball from his pocket. “Hey, big guy! D’you wanna play?” That could’ve sounded very wrong, but seeing as he was talking to a three-headed dog; not so much. He throws the ball at Cerberus and the middle head dives for it, battling the two other heads for the little ball. He looks just like any other dog. Except for his three heads.
Maybe monsters do need a little love sometimes.
Harry is lead to Louis’ palace by the ghouls and once he’s inside, it actually quite looks like Buckingham Palace from the inside. Not as much fire and creepy floating things (read: bats) as he’d expected.
“Harry, my dear. I’ve been expecting you.”
Harry whirls around so fast he almost gives himself whiplash. He clears his throat and greets the Lord of the Underworld back. “Hi.” For the Lord of the bloody Underworld, Louis is quite pretty. Sky blue eyes, brown hair that seems very light and is swept in a fringe across his forehead and thin lips.
“You’re not too bad yourself.” Harry’s eyes widen. This dude can read minds? “Dude? Is that how they say it these days? I should really visit modern society more often”, Louis says thoughtfully. “Anyway, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Louis. Most people know me as Hades which is also fine but Louis sounds somewhat more…. Human, I guess.”
“I’m Harry.”
And Louis smiles a pretty smile. “I know, dear. I invited you to my palace, yes? Please have a seat,” he gestures to a human sized throne in the main room, next to a bigger throne which is probably Louis’, “husband-to-be.” Harry’s given an almost blinding smile and he obeys mindlessly.
-
Harry’s been in the Underworld for ten days and living with Louis is…. Something else, to express it. It’s a good thing. He thought he’d have no freedom at all but Louis has been nothing but lovely so far. He even got his Furies to get some human food above ground for their date. (It took Harry about half an hour to explain the concept of a date, only to be promptly asked on one. Let’s just say it was a wonderful surprise.)
“Husband-to-be”, Harry murmurs dazedly. He’s getting married to this lovely man in a few weeks’ time.
“What’s that, darling?”
“You’re my husband-to-be.”
“I know, lovely. Isn’t it wonderful?” Harry nods happily and feeds Louis another chocolate-covered strawberry. He knows Louis isn’t too keen on all the lovey-dovey stuff but so far, they’ve been nothing but cuddled up in bed.
“Can I kiss you?” Harry asks and Louis looks up at him.
“I thought you didn’t have to ask.” There’s a twinkle in his eyes and it makes Harry doubt himself for a minute – a minute only because Louis laughs and leans in. They kiss for what seems hours, days even, but it’s probably only a few minutes. It’s wonderful.
Getting married to the Lord of the Underworld doesn’t seem too bad now.