Apollo had to admit even to himself that it had been a brilliant plan-- although he and Hyacinthus both were dismayed at the amount of tourists at Lake Avernus, it didn't deter them in the least-- in fact, they simply joined the tour without attracting any notice at all.
They filed, one by one, through the cave entrance-- and they filed, one by one, out-- that is, all but two. The blind God and his eromenos had lingered until the last of the camera-laden tourists had snapped their last shot and left and quietly turned down a corridor unseen by mortal eyes. Hyacinthus led Apollo, down and down, until the stench of sulfur was almost too much to bear.
The tourists had made him jittery- would any one of them spot them making their way down? To a place that was not supposed to exist. But they left at last, and not one of them took notice of the odd couple in the caves.
He'd been here once- Zephyrus had grudgingly led him through the same path to Tartarus, where Apollo had been at the time. Then, the North Wind had chased the smell of the sulfur away, kept him safe. It was different now. He couldn't do the same for Apollo. His hold on his erastes' hand tightened.
((Sorry I took so long! ;3; /totally bogged down by school work))
Apollo's breathing grew ragged as they descended further and further; he leaned more heavily on Hyacinthus now, his steps growing heavy with every footfall closer to where Charon waited
( ... )
He offered the coin to Charon, keeping his eyes on the boatman. If Hyacinthus hadn't been so worried, Charon's crack at the soul might have startled a laugh out of him, but as it was, he kept quiet, and held on to Apollo's hand.
"Thank you," he said, quietly, stepping onto the boat- for the second time in his life. Or maybe it was the third. He didn't know. Charon probably did, but it didn't seem like the boatman to offer any sort of information.
"We know." Apollo replied tiredly, placing his coin in Charon's open hand with its mate; he stepped into the boat unsteadily, taking little solace in their short journey to reach his uncle. He knew there was precious little Hades could do to aid them, but he would take anything he was offered.
They filed, one by one, through the cave entrance-- and they filed, one by one, out-- that is, all but two. The blind God and his eromenos had lingered until the last of the camera-laden tourists had snapped their last shot and left and quietly turned down a corridor unseen by mortal eyes. Hyacinthus led Apollo, down and down, until the stench of sulfur was almost too much to bear.
They were getting close.
Reply
He'd been here once- Zephyrus had grudgingly led him through the same path to Tartarus, where Apollo had been at the time. Then, the North Wind had chased the smell of the sulfur away, kept him safe. It was different now. He couldn't do the same for Apollo. His hold on his erastes' hand tightened.
((Sorry I took so long! ;3; /totally bogged down by school work))
Reply
Reply
(The comment has been removed)
"Thank you," he said, quietly, stepping onto the boat- for the second time in his life. Or maybe it was the third. He didn't know. Charon probably did, but it didn't seem like the boatman to offer any sort of information.
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment