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Language:
English
Series:
Part 2 of Underworld
Collections:
Kim Dokja/Yoo Joonghyuk
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Published:
2022-04-22
Completed:
2022-04-29
Words:
1,481
Chapters:
2/2
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27
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491
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The Unseen

Summary:

Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that his son adopted him instead of the other way around.

A story on how Hades became a father.

Chapter 1: Twilight

Chapter Text

Being a parent wasn’t just about bearing a child. It was about bearing witness to its life

Hades dislikes his two brothers. And the word dislike is putting it mildly. He could go through years without talking to them both, and he could confidently say that he would be happier for it. So, when Zeus phoned him, asking to accompany him to search for his latest bastard before his wife found out, Hades, without hesitation replied with a firm ‘no’

He would rather get home early and spend the time with his wife.

And Zeus should learned by now that action has consequences, and his are usually in the form of a child born out of wedlock.

Hades had forgotten that his brother lives to annoy the living hell out of him. When Zeus arrived at his office, lightning sparking on his hand and ready to induce electrical surge to the distribution board, he cursed his brother.

The orphanage in itself is okay. Children bawling every time his gaze passed over them, however, is not. Deciding to give the helper a rest from soothing weepy children, he made his way to the corner of the playroom while Zeus spoke to the director.

Much to his dismay, a child occupies the corner. The child is busy reading a book softly to himself, stumbling with few of the words. So absorbed with his book, he failed to realize that Hades was already by his side, peering down at the open book.

“They had to eat mug… mug…”

“Mugwort. That word is pronounced as mugwort.” Supply Hades and despite his better judgment, he is getting rather curious about the book in the child's hand.

“Right, right. Mugwort and garlic.” The boy looked up, smile ready on his face before it quickly slid off. Head down, small fingers play with the corner of the book and Hades brace himself for the coming teary sobs.

Instead of a crying child, a tiny voice entered his ears with an invitation. “Do… Do you want to read with me?”

Perhaps he took too long to answer, the small shoulders shrink further. It was then he noticed the fading bruise on the child collarbones. The knowledge washed over him in a cold splash. It took considerable care for him to slowly bend down and join the boy on the floor. Careful not to startle him, he tries his best to fold his body as small as possible.

“Can we start from the beginning?”

 The way the dark eyes brighten was worth the ache on his back from the incorrect posture.

The next day, the ruler of the Underworld found himself back in the orphanage with stacks of his favorite childhood book.

“Is he your bastard? He didn’t look much like you.”

The derision that bubbled up deep from his chest from the question nearly choked him.

“I’m not like you and Poseidon.”

Zeus laughed. “What good does it bring? A barren –”

“How is my sister-in-law? It had been quite some time since I heard from Hera. Is she still not well?”

Hades watched, pleasure creeping up to his face, pulling his lips into a smirk as Zeus flushed, jaw clenched in his anger. Two can play this game.

“That child’s mother killed her own husband.”

A chuckle escaped from his throat. “It is not like you Zeus to brings this kind of trivialities. We are not bound by that kind mortal morality.” Stopping, his dark eyes swoop across the room to land on the dark-haired child, bending over his latest story book. The thin shoulder looks small from this angle. Perhaps he is just not used to children his age. He can’t hardly remember how big his numerous nieces and nephews looked like when they were five.

“And it is not for the child to shoulder the sin of their parents.”

Do you see it?

“Do you want to become my child?”

The child, Dokja – his mind supplies him, looked down at the stacks of books which he had given him weeks ago.

“Like Pinocchio become Geppetto son?”

A rare smile tugged his lips. “Yes, but you are not Pinocchio and I’m not Geppetto. And you will have a mother, Persephone.”

Tiny fingers pulled a book - Goldilocks and the Three Bears – close. Brow frow, mouth purse in deep contemplation, he asked, “I’ll be the baby bear?”

Hades nodded his head.

“Will there be books?”

“Yes. And we can buy more if you want.”

It took less than a second to get an ‘okay’ from Dokja, dark eyes shone at the prospect of getting more books. And Hades, feel a minute of worry. He probably should start teaching his son the stranger danger but instead of sweets, he should tailor it to books.

 

 

But all in due time.

 

 

 

And when the small hand wrapped around his three fingers in a grip, the way Dokja - his son now – curled around his shoulder trustingly, he wonders what took him too long to make the decision to become this child’s father.

Chapter 2: Tranquil

Summary:

In the quiet space, he becomes a father.

Chapter Text

Hades waits, his present – all tall, dark, and domineering – causes the passing children and parents who passed over him to fall into a hush. Curious glances shot over his direction, probing, some almost cautiously; and for a beat, he almost wishes that Persephone is around to pick up their son with him.

No.

He can’t be selfish.

Today is the day that Persephone is meeting her mother and his mother-in-law already dislikes him enough. He didn’t need to add this as another reason Demeter hates him.

"How soft brother dear. A wife is not to be listened to.” The voice of his brothers taunts him. And he could, with utmost certainty, imagine the disapproval that his father would wear if he were still around.

The noise around him falls into a hush when his eyes catch sight of his adoptive son. Diminutive stature in comparison to the kids around him, pale skin washed paler under the sun. The dark eyes look around in a searching manner. He watches, cataloguing the way the eyes widen as they land on him. There is a slight bounce in Dokja’s step as he made his way towards him. In an easy manner, the small hand reached for him. Something behind his ribs ached as warmth blooms from the young hand in his, twining up, making its way to the corner of his heart. His hand tightens slightly.

“Mother?”

“She is with her mother. Your grandmother.”

Dokja hummed, eyes darting about as they walk towards the car. Jumping into the passenger seat, he waits as Hades buckled him up, legs swinging in unrestraint energy. They rode in silence with Dokja peering through the window at the passing scenery until they pulled into the garage. Wordlessly, he reached to the backseat and handed the child a new storybook.

“That is how you spoil a child.” Zeus’s voice snaked into the recess of his mind.

Eager hands accept the book, finger already tracing the words, reading the difficult words with his inaudible lisping. Bright eyes peered up at him with expectation, unhide excitement.

“I’ll read the books with you after you finish all of your dinner.”

There is a tiny pout, “Even the tomato?”

At his silence, the pout grows more pronounced.

Later during dinner, Hades picks off all the tomato slices from Dokja’s plate.

“Don’t tell your mother.”

And Hades could almost hear his father’s and his brothers’ voice whispering, overlay on top of the other. 

“You are making him soft.”

Bedtime was easy, his son was almost too eager for bedtime, clutching the new storybook close as he slides in between the bed and the duvet.

With a snap of his fingers, shadows move; dancing along the words he had spoken and creating shapes and figures. The same shadows that cause others to tremble, that was used to strangle, cut, and maim is now used to make shadow puppets. And Hades took in the expression that flashed over the small face, enthrall by the story.

It didn’t take long for the child’s eyelid to grow heavy before a yawn escape. He smoothened the blanket, careful fingers pushed back the fine hair that fell over his son’s forehead. Sleepy eyes met his and a shy smile, reminiscent of what Hades himself used to wear, graced the boy’s lips. He tucked the smile away, safe in his memory for it is rare for Dokja to truly smile.

His voice sounds crocked as he wished him goodnight.

“Good night my child.”

“Goodnight father.”

He watched the tiny eyelid close, as the small chest falls into the rhythmic breathing of someone in a deep sleep.

And for the first time that day, the devil that usually whispered in the corner of his mind, which sounded like his father and his brother was silent.

In the quiet space, he becomes a father.

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