The air was thick with incense and the scent of ambrosia, mingling with the soft floral notes from the blooming garden surrounding us. Torches flickered, casting golden light upon the gathered gods and titans. They were all here. My brothers and sisters, my mother, and even Nyx, Erebus, and Tartarus—an almost comical sight, considering how utterly exhausted the Primordials looked. I had thanked them for coming, surprised they had even deigned to step out of their realms for this occasion.
But he wasn't here.
Cronos.
I wasn't sure why I even thought he would come. Why I had foolishly hoped for it. Our last conversation had ended on uncertain terms, an apology left hanging in the air like an unfinished melody. Perhaps I had been naive to think he would stand among us, that he would face those he had wronged.
I adjusted my collar, my fingers twitching slightly. I had faced wars, betrayals, and the horrors of the Underworld, yet my heart pounded with an unfamiliar nervousness. This was different. This was permanent.
I turned my head slightly, my gaze settling on the woman who would soon be my wife.
Hecate stood at the garden's entrance, adorned in a deep black and violet gown woven with runes that looked like stars, her hair cascading in shimmering waves. There was no doubt in her eyes, only certainty. A small smile graced her lips, one that sent warmth curling through my chest. She had always been my anchor, the steady force that reminded me of who I was beyond the god of the dead.
Everything was perfect.
Then the murmurs started.
A shift in the air.
Gasps, whispered curses.
And then I saw him.
Cronos.
He walked into the garden, his presence swallowing the air, commanding attention as effortlessly as he once had in the age of titans. All eyes turned to him. Some in shock, some in outrage. My mother, Rhea, straightened in her seat, her expression unreadable. Zeus's grip on his goblet tightened, but he said nothing. Hera whispered something under her breath, while the titans present stiffened, their eyes flickering with old wounds.
Yet Cronos kept walking, his steps slow but deliberate, until he stood before me.
Silence.
The garden held its breath.
And then, he spoke.
"I have been called many things." His voice was steady but laced with something foreign—remorse. "A king. A god. A tyrant." He exhaled, his gaze moving over the crowd before settling on me. "A father."
The word felt heavy, laden with memories, with the echoes of a past that could never be rewritten.
"I have done terrible things," Cronos continued. "Things I cannot undo. I have been cruel. I have let fear dictate my actions. And in doing so, I have lost the most precious thing a man can have—his family."
My throat tightened.
"But today is not about me. It is about you, Hades." He turned to Hecate, and for the first time, his expression softened. "And you, my new daughter."
Hecate's fingers curled around mine, but she did not waver under his gaze.
"I have no right to stand here and pretend as though I deserve to celebrate with you. But if there is one thing I can offer, it is my blessing. My wish is that you do not make the same mistakes I did."
A hush fell over the crowd as he raised a goblet.
"To Hades, my eldest son. And to Hecate, the new Queen of the Gods."
The words sent a ripple of shock through the guests. A title unspoken until now, given freely from the lips of a dethroned king.
I stared at him, emotions warring within me. I had dreamed of this moment in a hundred different ways—some ending in blood, some in curses. But never like this. Never with an apology, with an offering of peace.
Cronos turned as if to leave, the weight of his presence slowly retreating.
But then my mother stood.
Rhea, once his queen, moved toward him, her expression unreadable. Without a word, she reached for his arm, linking hers through his.
"Stay," she said softly, yet firmly.
Cronos tensed, his eyes searching hers for something—permission, forgiveness, a reason to stay. For a moment, I thought he would refuse. That he would slip back into the shadows he had come from.
But then, with hesitant movements, he allowed himself to be led to a seat beside her. Rhea's grip on his arm was steady, unwavering.
A flicker of something passed through me.
"Are you ready?" she asked, her voice soft, but sure.
I looked at her, at the woman who had stood beside me through everything. And for the first time in my long, endless existence, I knew, without hesitation.
"Absolutely."
And as the ceremony continued, as vows were exchanged and the fates wove our threads tighter together, I felt the past begin to loosen its grip.
The reception was unlike anything I had ever witnessed. Tables laden with food and drink stretched across the garden, their surfaces glittering with enchanted starlight. Satyrs danced with nymphs, their movements wild and joyous. Abel and Cain were among the cyclopes, deep in conversation about forges and weapons.
Nyx approached me at one point, her presence as chilling as the void itself. "You've chosen well," she said, her dark eyes piercing.
"Thank you, Nyx," I replied. "That means more than you know."
She inclined her head, fading back into the shadows as quickly as she had appeared. Hecate was the star of the evening, her laughter ringing out as she danced with her witches and even coaxed the stiff Grim Reapers to loosen up and to enjoy the party.
A few hours later, my hand was wrapped around Hecate's, her fingers warm against mine, grounding me in the present.
My siblings—Poseidon, Hera, Demeter, and Hestia—stood gathered around our father, their initial stiffness giving way to something almost… natural. They spoke with Cronos, their words hesitant at first but growing steadier, more open. It was strange to see them like this, exchanging stories as though they were simply children catching up with a long-lost father, rather than gods who had once warred against him.
"So, Atlantis?" Cronos said, arching a brow at Poseidon. "You sank it?"
Poseidon crossed his arms and huffed. "It was… a moment of frustration."
Hera scoffed. "A moment? You destroyed an entire civilization."
Poseidon grumbled into his goblet before taking a deep sip of wine. "They had it coming."
Demeter sighed but gave a small smile. "It's not every day we see Poseidon taking responsibility, I suppose."
Hestia, ever the peacekeeper, turned to Cronos. "We've all changed a great deal, Father. The world has changed. I suppose the question is… what will you do with the time you have now?"
Cronos studied her for a moment before speaking. "I don't know. Perhaps, for the first time in my existence, I will simply… live."
The words hung in the air, heavy with a meaning I don't think any of us expected from him. I turned to Hecate, who was watching the exchange with a knowing smile.
Cronos then met Aeolus, the god of the winds, who approached with a smirk. "I hear you were once the mightiest of all," Aeolus said, tilting his head. "A pleasure to meet you."
Cronos chuckled dryly. "Mighty, perhaps. But power fades, and wisdom comes too late."
"Better late than never," Aeolus replied, raising his goblet before stepping away.
Ares, my war-bringer nephew, strode up next, flanked by Eileithyia, his sister and goddess of childbirth. Ares, ever the bold one, folded his arms. "So, you're Cronos," he mused. "Can't say I expected to be meeting my grandfather tonight. I think I could take you on."
Cronos chuckled, rubbing his chin. "Nor did I expect to have grandchildren. But I think this old fool had enough ass whoopings."
Ares shrugged. "Well, if you say so, old man."
Eileithyia grinned. "I do apologize for Ares, he can be quite a handful."
"I pay it no mind." Cronos smiled softly as he slipped her a bag of drachma. "It is nice to finally meet you Eileithyia, now if your parents don't give you enough allowance, this might help."
She thanked him as she ran off, Ares complaining as he ran after her. Hera and Aeolus watched them go laughing.
I pulled Hecate aside, away from the crowd after we had spoken to everyone as I wanted a moment with her myself. The Styx glittered behind us, its soft glow illuminating her features.
"Happy?" I asked, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
"Ecstatic," she replied, leaning into my touch. "And you?"
"I'm exactly where I want to be," I said.
We shared a kiss then, and for a moment, the rest of the world faded away.
<----------------------->
The night air was thick with the scent of salt and cypress as our chariot descended from Olympus. The stars were brilliant above us, and the great world below stretched vast and untamed, its cities still in infancy. The mortals had only begun to carve their existence into the land, their fires flickering like newborn constellations against the blackness of the earth.
Hecate sat beside me, her dark hair catching the moonlight, her eyes alight with mischief. She had chosen to leave behind her usual flowing robes, instead donning a chiton that clung to her form in a way that made my thoughts wander to places they should not while guiding a chariot. She caught me staring and smirked.
"Eyes on the road, my king," she teased, placing a hand on my thigh.
"Hard to do when my queen is a vision more captivating than the night sky itself."
She laughed, a sound like the chiming of silver bells, and leaned into me, resting her head against my shoulder. "Where shall we go first? You promised me wonders, Hades."
"I intend to keep that promise," I murmured, pulling on the reins. The spectral horses, wreathed in shadow, galloped faster, carrying us over the Aegean. "I thought we would start where the world breathes fire."
The island of Lemnos lay ahead, its volcanic heart pulsing with molten veins. As we landed on the blackened shores, the heat from the earth curled around us, warm and welcoming. The mortals had yet to claim this land fully, and for now, it belonged only to the gods.
Hecate stepped forward, tilting her head back to inhale the sulfuric air. "The energy here is intoxicating," she whispered. "I can feel the magic seeping from the cracks in the earth."
I moved behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist and pressing my lips to the curve of her neck. "Then let it intoxicate us both. We have no duties, no interruptions—only time and each other."
She turned in my arms, her eyes dark with desire. "Show me what it means to be yours, Hades."
The night stretched on, and though I could recount every whisper, every sigh, some moments are best left between lovers and the sacred firelight.
Our journey took us from the volcanic lands of Lemnos to the emerald forests of Arcadia, where the trees grew ancient and tall, their roots steeped in forgotten magic. Hecate led us through the labyrinthine paths with an easy grace, her fingers grazing over moss-covered stones, whispering to the spirits hidden in the leaves.
I watched her, fascinated. "You have always been more connected to the unseen than any of us."
She turned, her golden eyes gleaming. "And you, my love, have always been more patient with it than any of the others. Poseidon would have torn through these woods in frustration, and Hera would have scorned their untamed wilderness."
"And yet, you and I find peace in places where others find only chaos."
She smiled, stepping closer. "That is why we are suited to rule together."
I cupped her face, brushing my thumb over her lower lip. "We were suited for more than ruling, Hecate."
She did not pull away when I kissed her, deep and slow, nor when I lifted her into my arms, the scent of earth and rain clinging to her skin. Arcadia bore witness to our devotion that night, and the trees swayed as though whispering our names.
From Arcadia, we traveled north, past the fledgling city of Thebes, where the mortals still laid stone upon stone to build their temples. We watched them from the hills, unseen, as they toiled beneath the sun.
Hecate sighed. "They are so fragile."
I nodded. "And yet, they endure."
She leaned against me. "Do you think they will remember us?"
"They will remember you," I said, threading my fingers through hers. "You light their crossroads, guide their lost souls. You will always be in their whispers."
She glanced up at me, her expression unreadable. "And you?"
I exhaled, watching the mortals below. "I do not seek their remembrance. My realm is beneath, beyond the reach of their prayers."
She placed a hand over my heart. "That is not true. They fear you, but they respect you. And one day, when their poets find the right words, they will honor you, too."
I kissed her forehead. "As long as I have you, I need no mortal songs."
She smiled and pulled me away from the overlook. "Enough brooding, my love. We still have half a year ahead of us, and I do not intend to spend it watching mortals build walls."
"Then lead on, my queen. Where shall we go next?"
She grinned. "Somewhere the moon kisses the sea."
And so, we traveled to the ends of the world, where the sky met the ocean in a silver embrace, where we lay beneath the constellations that only we, the gods, truly understood. We danced in the ruins of forgotten places, laughed in the glow of bioluminescent waves, and lost ourselves in the quiet spaces between time.
This was not Olympus, with its golden halls and unyielding politics. This was freedom, raw and unshaped, ours to claim. And I, a god who had always kept himself apart, found that I did not wish for this journey to end.
As we lay beneath the stars on our final night, Hecate traced idle patterns over my chest, her touch as soft as the breeze. "Will you miss this?"
I ran my fingers through her hair, marveling at the way it shimmered in the moonlight. "Every day."
She sighed, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. "Then we will do it again. The world is vast, and eternity is ours."
I smiled. "Yes, my love. It is."