Bonus Content - Hermes POV

Hey everyone!

As you voted on, I've got the new Chapter Three scene with PC, Hermes, and Charon from Hermes's POV this month. I went with a Persephone who was Hermes's best friend, a little unsure about the Underworld but coming to enjoy her time there. Hermes, as you might imagine, is quite thrilled with this state of affairs, given his own preference for it. 

I hope you enjoy!

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"Winding things back a bit," Hermes begins with a small grin. "Here's a question for you, Persephone. Knowing what you know now, are you satisfied with your magic, or would you be interested in trying the Chthonic kind at some point?" The question sort of comes out before he’s really considered it all the way through, but part of him needs to know.

"Hermes," Charon's voice carries a note of gentle exasperation. "That could have so many implications that need considering. You can't expect her to have any kind of answer just yet, unless the answer is 'certainly not.'"

They’re right, of course. And yet...

"Actually, I'm pretty sure the answer is yes." Persephone’s expression is thoughtful, and maybe he’s imagining it, but Hermes can also see something like… wistfulness in it. Or yearning.

Maybe he’s just projecting, but the spike of excitement in his guts is a heady thing, and he wants to pretend, even if only for a little while, than she might feel as he does about this, too.

"Be careful, if you pursue that," Charon cautions. "It is not simply a matter of doing the same thing the same way. If you use Chthonic magic, the way it feels and what it is capable of will change. You may even lose some of the abilities you have now, depending on how the powers interact with one another."

"On the other hand, Chthonic magic tends to be pretty incredible, in its own way," Hermes says, smile broadening. There’s not point in just talking about the negatives. "It's so much more raw than the Olympian kind. For me at least, it lets me tap into a different… part of myself, I guess. But maybe I'm a bad example. People can't usually hold both kinds at once, but I can."

Maybe she can. Maybe she can’t, but that would be all right, too. If she really turned out to like it, here, if she really embraced it the way he has…

Would he need Olympus any more at all?

Charon smiles gently at him. "You are a rather special case," they say. "More to the benefit of us all."

Hermes snorts, but there’s something genuinely flattering about the words. "Don't be weird and sentimental in front of the guest, Blue." It’s a rarely-used nickname, compared to some of the more ubiquitous ones, and indeed he gets a subtle look for using it, but he doesn’t mind that.

Nothing’s decided, he knows. It’s all only possibilities. But she’s thinking about the possibilities now, and that means her feelings about the Underworld are changing. Hermes was never going to push it, but he was definitely always going to want that to happen.

"Can I ask how you two became acquainted?" Persephone asks. Hermes wants to hug her. The interest—that’s the important thing.

"Ah. We're not the most expected pair, are we?" Charon asks, eyes crinkling with amusement.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Hermes replies, humor on the edges of his tone. "We're obviously deeply similar, with all the same interests, and even of a similar age!" All lies, of course, but told with such obvious exaggeration that that should be clear.

Charon huffs something that might almost be a laugh.

"No, seriously, though," the young god continues, shifting his eyes to Persephone. "At first, it was because there's actually similarity in our jobs. Everyone on Olympus likes to act like I'm just the old man's personal messenger boy, but I'm actually a psychopomp. Which is the fancy word for someone who guides the dead."

See me, please. Even all the parts I had to hide from you, before.

Charon inclines their head. "He is. As am I. While our tasks cover different physical areas—mine within the Underworld and his outside of it—it is fundamentally a similar task. When Hermes was first learning, therefore, I taught him."

"Uh-huh. And how was that?" Persephone’s tone is a bit sardonic.

"Hey," Hermes says, the protest token and heatless. He can understand why she’d say it like that, of course. He complains about his work and avoids as much of it as possible, most of the time. And that is what it’s like, when the work in question is carrying the mail.

Charon, as ever, is simply honest, and in this case it’s all the defense Hermes could have asked for.

"I believe you were implying that this task must have been difficult," they reply. "And it was, but only because of the delicacy of what must be taught. How to handle cases of spirits who are unwilling to proceed, or have become disoriented and confused. Also how to find them. They are not simple, rote matters, but Hermes himself was not a difficult student."

Hermes shrugs, though he also shoots her a look of his own, vindicated and a little bit smug about it. Had he thought her implications more criticism than humor, he’d have reacted differently, but it’s not. They make fun of each other sometimes, and that’s part of why they’re such good friends. This one is his win, though.

Persephone seems to understand this, or at least her curiosity is sufficient for her not to press the point, because she asks something slightly different instead. "Hermes, how much time do you actually spend in the Underworld?"

He considers the question, eyes finding the ceiling for a moment. "Well, I don't know the exact percentage," he says, dropping his gaze back down to hers. "But usually? Kind of as much as—mm. A decent amount, I suppose. A little less than I might otherwise, because I visited you a lot, but other than that… I don't know. Just when I feel like it."

It’s legitimately difficult to put his finger on the number, of course, but more than that, he’s not quite so sure he’s ready to share his innermost thoughts about that. Even with her. Because they’re something he’s still trying to get a handle on himself, and if it ever got back to Olympus… well, no. It’s not like anything disastrous would happen. In fact, no one would care. But he’s not exactly ready for confirmation of that, either.

Persephone’s brows draw together, but she doesn’t insist that he become any more specific, even though she must have caught on to the caginess. Instead, she turns so as to be speaking to both himself and Charon, setting her teacup down politely.

"Thank you for inviting me today."

"There's no need, but you're welcome," Charon says with a small smile. "Any true friend of Hermes is a friend of the rest of us, though we do try not to impose."

"Not such a bad place to stay for a while, is it?" Hermes notes, though he doesn't expect an immediate answer. He just can’t help himself.

The conversation meanders a little while longer, until the snacks have disappeared, and everyone can feel the interlude coming to an end.

Charon stands first, carefully brushing down their tunic, and offers Persephone a polite dip of the head. "As much as I would enjoy staying longer," he says, "I fear I have been too long away from the ferry today already. Thank you for indulging me, and I do hope the rest of your day is enjoyable."

"Yours, too," Hermes says to him, turning then to her with an arched brow. "I've got to go, too, Sunshine. But you know me—I'll be around.”

Maybe—just maybe—she will be, too.