Bonus Content - Hades POV

Hey all!

You voted to see Hades's perspective on the baking scene from Chapter Four, so that's below. Featuring a humorous, bold sort of Dionysus who knows absolutely nothing about baking. :)

I hope you all enjoy it.

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"How much cooking and baking have you done before, may I ask? It might be helpful for tailoring my explanation of the recipe, is all." Hades looks slightly downward at Dionysus, sort of able to guess the answer from the way the young god looks rather interested in some of the ingredients—as though they are novel.

"I barely know what any of these things are," he admits.

Hades nods. "Then I will explain the steps as we go along. Please do not hesitate to ask questions if you have them."

He considers a moment, then hands his companion the container of butter and shifts the bag of sugar over to his part of the counter as well. Baking like many things is a series of basic operations combined into something much more complex. Mastering the basic skills and taking things one at a time is the way to go about it, when one is new. "If you could begin by creaming together those two, it's about three quarters of one of these each." He hands Dionysus one of the larger measuring cups. Technically it’s weight that matters, but the rough direction will achieve the result almost as well.

"For reference," he adds, “that just means to combine them. The butter is soft, but not melted, so it's not quite the same as just stirring, but you should aim to integrate the sugar evenly with it for now."

The expression on Dionysus’s face changes, and Hades suspects clarifying this was the correct choice.

His companion gets to it, measuring out the butter and sugar and folding them together as slightly clumsily but with enough effort to make it work, while Hades measures out flour and other dry ingredients into the bowl in front of him.

"How often do you cook?" The question is not unexpected in present context, and Hades doesn’t have to think too much about the answer, or how to phrase it.

"I used to do so moderately often," he replies, "then fell out of the habit for a while. When I adopted Makaria, I began to regain interest in it, and it has largely been a process of… scouring the rust off ever since, so to speak. I claim no great skill, but I can do reasonably simple things."

Adding wine yeast to the bowl to act as a leavening agent, he replaces the seal on the container of it.

"Today's cakes in particular are for Makaria," he explains, adding a bit of salt and a bit more cinnamon to the bowl, grinding the latter over the top by hand. "She's been working rather diligently, lately, to learn a new alphabet. I want her to know… that people notice her efforts. And that I'm proud of her accomplishments."

"That's really sweet of you." There’s a little bit of puzzlement in Dionysus’s tone, but when Hades glances his way, he’s obviously smiling, pausing to push one strand of long, dark hair back behind his ear.

Hades clears his throat. "I am unsure about that," he replies, shaking his head. "Sometimes I am concerned that I am not able to tell her often enough, or understandably enough, that I love her and am proud of what she's achieved. Or I worry that she will begin to associate my pride in her only with achievement. It is… very difficult to know how my actions will end up affecting her, and that is… worrisome, at times."

He shakes his head. He’s said too much, which in spite of being the opposite of his usual problem seems to happen quite often around Dionysus in particular. Perhaps it’s better to move on—the next part is adding the eggs to the ‘wet’ half of the ingredients.

It’s a process that necessitates a small tutorial, and even then, Dionysus ends up needing to fish pieces of eggshell out of the bowl. Still, he’s doing a good job for someone who has never had much experience with any of the skills involved, and after that, Hades uses a sieve to sift the contents of his own bowl over his companion's.

"She's very intent on it," he says, picking up the former thread of conversation a short way back. It’s the best way he can think of to keep speaking while not making his faux pas worse, aside from changing the subject entirely, which he isn’t especially keen to do. "Learning as many languages as possible. She says it's because she wants to read all the books in the library, as I have." He huffs softly. "Which is… quite the aim for someone always trying to get out of her lessons. But I suppose even so I also want to be supportive."

"When I was a kid,” Dionysus replies with half a little grin, “I wanted to have huge gardens and grow every possible flower in them."

Hades smiles softly at him. The similarity is immediately obvious to him, and he has no trouble imagining a younger version of his—well. They’re husbands, aren’t they? Strange as that is. Maybe the word he should use isn’t something he needs to think about right now, though.

"I could see that, somehow," he replies. "How far did you get?"

Dionysus shakes his head. "Not far. Mother gave me a small plot, I assume because she knew I'd not hold onto the particular ambition for very long. I got about as far in the alphabet as anemones before I gave up."

"I confess to expecting a similar result," Hades replies, a tad wryly. "But I am not inclined to allow that to change how I react. She must know, I think, that I always take her seriously when she's serious."

"I've been told that parenting is very difficult."

Hades tilts his head, considering the words. "I don't think I'd call it difficult," he replies. "It's certainly not easy, but the word I would use is challenging. There are challenges to be overcome, some that Makaria and I can face together, some that I can face with Empusa or one of the others in collective effort and some I simply have to handle myself, but I think of those as individual things, more momentary than calling it 'difficult' implies."

He narrows his eyes in thought, talking again before he’s made the decision to do. It’s easy to get carried away, when the topic is his daughter, something he does recognize about himself. "Perhaps I split hairs unnecessarily. The point of it all, though, is giving Makaria the childhood she deserves. Even if it is difficult, I don't mind expending any amount of effort towards that goal. I want…" he pauses, hesitating. "I want her to always feel safe. To know that she can do or be or dream as she pleases, and there will always be people in the world who will support her in whatever her dreams are, no matter how temporary or permanent they turn out to be."

He’s talking too much again. And talking too much about himself and Makaria. It must be boring, but how should he—right. That makes sense.

He turns to regard Dionysus, genuinely curious and a bit apologetic for his rambling. "I know, of course, that you are no longer a child, but I daresay most adults have some form of aspiration as well. Do you?"

Dionysus shakes his head, looking almost a little caught off-guard by the query, somehow. "I'm not sure how much I've ever thought about it."

Hades hums. "I don't think I meant anything too elaborate," he clarifies. "Perhaps I should say…"

His brows knit as he considers his wording. "Perhaps I meant to ask, 'if you could choose just one thing, right now, that you want out of life in general, something that would hold true regardless of where you were and other circumstantial details, what would it be, off the top of your head?'"

Maybe that’s too precise, but it does seem to make an answer easier, at least, because after a bit of considering, Dionysus does have an answer.

"To have people I love around me, and to have someone special." His tone is soft, a bit wistful at the edges, perhaps. Not that this is unexpected, given the topic matter.

Hades nods immediately. "That is a very understandable dream," he observes with a small smile. "One I daresay many people have, which only goes to show the strength of its appeal. Once, I—" He shakes his head, a small pang of discomfort in his chest. "Well, never mind. That part isn't important." He’s said too much about himself, today. Too many personal things, too. And—well. It’s an inconvenient moment to have been thinking about the fact that the two of them are technically married.

He clears his throat, shaking off the vestiges of the thoughts. "In any event," she says, "I do sincerely hope you'll be able to achieve it, one day. And perhaps even more importantly, I hope that the journey to get there is as pleasant and rewarding as possible. I find we rarely arrive at such destinations in quite the way we intended, but if the process is worthwhile, then that matters less."

That shouldn’t be such a terrible way to close off the topic.

But it seems Dionysus thinks differently.

"So... do you still hope that if maybe you have a role to play in that dream?" He arches one eyebrow.

Hades blinks. His tone, the god of death is fairly sure, implies flirtation and humor, which would in turn give the comment certain implications. On the other hand, it is a question worth taking seriously, and… no. He still shouldn’t be thinking about that. Not… not at least until the matter of Dionysus’s imprisonment is resolved.

He’s torn. Between the desire to tell the truth and the desire to be careful. In the end, he compromises as well as he can.

"I suppose that depends on what my role is," he replies steadily after a moment. "But it would certainly be no hardship to be someone you cared about, Dionysus. I hope you know that much, at least."

There’s a little bit of silence, perhaps while Dionysus digests the comment, and Hades is quick to move on.

At this point, the cake batter is fully integrated, so he pours it into a lined pan, which then immediately goes into the oven.

"Thank you," he says quietly. "For spending this time with me. I'll let you know when I'm ready to give the cakes to Makaria, if you'd like to come along. You helped make them, after all."

For now… it’s enough.