Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Already it was far too cold. It should have been early Autumn- brisk in the morning, a preview of coming attractions, but with the warmth of summer lingering in the afternoon. Yet Orpheus could swear he saw a thin film of frost on the fallen leaves as he walked deeper into the woods. Of course, that was the way the world was. Persephone had come and been taken too soon, taking the warmer weather with her and leaving only memories in its place.

For Orpheus, the memories of Summer burned bright and warm. Almost warm enough to ignore the cold altogether, he thought, even as he drew his jacket closer against the wind. He and Eurydice had spent day after day in these woods this past Summer, his happiest Summer in recent memory.

Perhaps that was why he had come here today. Maybe the memories allowed him a deeper connection to his work. Or maybe the smallness of the studio apartment he shared with Eurydice had finally become too confining, though normally Orpheus could work on his song for hours without noticing the world around him, completely lost in the music, the possibilities of it all. However, he did not dwell on it for long. He was here; he had a song to write. That was what mattered.

And so he worked. He worked up until a brief glance at his watch informed him that it was time to leave for his shift at Hermes’. The watch had originally belonged to Eurydice, but she’d given it to him after he’d been late to work one too many times. She tried to brush it off as a practicality, but Orpheus knew it must have meant a lot to give it up-she held onto her possessions so tightly.

As he gathered up his things, something caught his eye, something red and bright against the dark green of the bushes. He couldn’t help but grin. Berries. Something fresh and alive even as dead leaves fell from the trees. Eurydice was going to love this. He’d seen the way her brow furrowed as she opened empty pantry doors and haggled over fruit at the market, and it hurt him that he couldn’t fix it for her. All he had were his songs.

This here though: this was a start.

Hermes’ restaurant seemed busier than usual, Eurydice noted from behind the bar. But maybe that was to be expected this time of year. The were close to the train tracks and everybody was trying to find somewhere warmer to go before the cold weather set in. In years past, she would have been one of them.

It was an odd feeling, being on the other side after years of jumping from place to place.

It feels wrong.

She pushed the thought away and focused on making small talk with customers as she took their orders and made their drinks, all the while looking out of the corner of her eye for a glimpse of Orpheus.

They hadn’t had much time together today. He’d been gone when she woke up, a hastily written note left on his pillow: something about the woods. Eurydice often wondered how somehow who sang such beautiful words could have such terrible handwriting. They’d spoken briefly when he arrived for his shift, five minutes late, red cheeked and slightly breathless from the cold. He was excited about something,

“I have a surprise for you; at home” is all he would say when Eurydice pressed him for details. This was not uncommon. It seemed any time Orpheus went into the woods he brought back a surprise for Eurydice: flowers he’d found, a fallen feather from a bird- just things he’d thought she would enjoy.

She smiled; his energy was contagious. “Okay.”

There hadn’t been time to speak since. And so, glimpses across the bar it was. Orpheus even managed to make bussing tables look like it was the best job in the world. But as the shift went on, these glimpses became less and less frequent, though the number of tables that needed bussing remained the same.

Something was wrong.

No, it wasn’t. It was the weekend; Orpheus had a show to prepare for. Except that the first set wasn’t for another few hours. It wouldn’t have taken him that long to set up, and while it was true Orpheus often lived in his own world, it wasn’t like him to just abandon his work.

Something was wrong.

As if on cue, Atropos approached the bar. It took everything in Eurydice’s power not to scowl.

Atropos, Clotho, Lachesis. Three nosy sisters who seemed to know everything that was going on in this town. Sometimes it felt like they were peering straight into her soul. Orpheus said they’d worked here for as long as he could remember, but Eurydice would have sworn on her own life that she’d seen them before, in other towns, other places. In any case, she found them insufferable, and they found her much the same.

Atropos did not bother with formalities. “Your partner’s hiding out in the back. You’d better figure out what’s wrong. Wouldn’t want someone to accuse him of slacking off.”

“Cover me here, and I will,” Eurydice replied, her face straight, though warning bells were going off in her head. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

She expected pushback from Atropos, but the other simply shrugged, and took her place, adding “Oh, and Eurydice… tell him to get back to work. We’re short-staffed today.”

Eurydice didn’t like how she smiled as she said it, as if she knew something Eurydice didn’t.

As promised, she found him outside, slumped against the outside of the walk-in freezer, head in his hands. Her heart dropped further. Something was wrong.

She slid down next to him, what she hoped was a comforting smile on her face. “Hey, what’s going on?”

He startled at the sound of her voice, and Eurydice felt a twinge of guilt that she’d caught him off guard. However, his confusion quickly gave way to a smile, though she was quick to notice that his eyes looked worried. “Eurydice!”

“What’s going on?” She repeated. “Atropos told me you were hiding out here. That’s not like you.”

His smile faded “Nothing… I just needed a moment.”

“Why?”

He didn’t answer.

Eurydice put her hands on her hips. “Orpheus… you’re doing that thing where you don’t speak because you’re afraid you’ll worry me. Don’t. I’m not breakable.”

“I… I don’t feel right,” he finally admitted, avoiding her gaze. His words were slow, as if he were choosing them carefully, trying to cushion a blow. “My stomach, the smell of food… I had to get out.”

“Oh Orpheus,” Eurydice said quietly, her expression softening. “I’m sorry.”

She placed a hand on his forehead but was unable to decipher if he felt feverish or not. Anyone’s skin felt warm when it was fifty-five degrees out. She thought his face looked flushed, but could that be because of the wind? There was a sinking feeling within her as she realized she’d never had to do this before; had never been with anyone long enough to see them sick. And she didn’t know what to do next.

She settled on practicality. “If you’re not feeling well, you should go home. We’ll talk to Hermes- he’ll understand.”

To her surprise, Orpheus shook his head. “I can’t. The show tonight- there’s no replacement. Mr. Hermes needs me.”

And we need the tips. Eurydice’s mind filled in the rest. Hermes paid them as fairly as he could, but it still wasn’t enough, and the tips from Orpheus’s performances barely filled the gaps. She hated that that was her first thought.

“Okay then. Fine. It’s up to you.” She sounded more annoyed than she intended and she wanted to take the words back immediately, but there was the sound of heels clicking on the concrete and suddenly Lachesis was among them, making it clear that there was no further time for discussion- tables were piling up and Atropos was tired of covering for Eurydice.

“I just needed fresh air; I feel better already,” Orpheus whispered to her as they followed Lachesis back inside, but it didn’t escape Eurydice the way he’d wobbled slightly when he stood up, the way he grimaced and pressed a hand to his stomach when he thought she wasn’t looking.

Eurydice didn’t pray to the gods, but she did at that moment. She had a feeling the wind was about to change.

Chapter Text

It was an hour later, and Orpheus couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so awful, if he ever had at all. The sickness in his stomach had been joined by a pounding in his head and his hands felt like they’d been dunked in ice, even as the bar felt uncharacteristically warm.

He should have listened to Eurydice, spoken to Hermes, gone home. He hadn’t been completely honest when he’d said there was no replacement- given enough notice, Hermes probably could have made calls, found someone. But it was too far late now, a little more than 45 minutes until show.

45 minutes. He repeated the phrase in his head like a mantra. Only 45 minutes, and then maybe once he was on stage he would be able to forget everything, focus on the music like he always did.

It was almost a relief when Eurydice- finally freed from the bar- found him again. She took one look at him and practically drug him into Hermes’ office.

“You have to send him home; he looks like hell!” she said as she flung open the door before Hermes had even acknowledged their presence, as if she were anticipating a fight.

It wasn’t Hermes she had to worry about. Despite how miserable he felt, Orpheus still found himself saying “Don’t I get say in this?”

Eurydice gave him a look, the type that said don’t test me as she guided him into one of the chairs across from Hermes’ desk. “You did have a say… an hour ago.”

“And you agreed with me!” Orpheus took the seat gladly. Between his head and his stomach, he was beginning to feel weak at the knees.

“An hour ago,” Eurydice repeated. “And you lied. You said you were feeling better when you’re clearly not.”

Hermes looked at them from across the desk, his expression closer to slight amusement than concern. Arguments between Eurydice and Orpheus were rare. It wasn’t dissimilar to watching two children arguing on a playground.

He cleared his throat to grab their attention. “Eurydice’s right Orpheus. I can’t have you working here if you’re sick. It’s a health code violation.”

“But my set- “

“We’ll just have to cancel tonight’s performance,” Hermes said. “Nothing else to do.”

Orpheus shook his head. It wasn’t even that he wanted to perform anymore- at this point he wanted nothing more than to lie down- but the idea of letting Hermes down made him feel worse than he already did. “No! I can do it!”

“If you’re so concerned about your set, I’ll do it!” Eurydice threw her hands in the air, exasperated.

She probably could, Orpheus thought. They spent enough time together that she’d had time to learn all his songs. He’d even begun to teach her to play his lyre, and while she wasn’t a natural at it like him, she was a quick learner. But he didn’t want her to. She shouldn’t have to. This was his contribution to their shared income, his share of the work.

He opened his mouth to protest, but as he did, his stomach lurched without warning and before he could do anything to stop it, he’d thrown up in the middle of Hermes’ office.

“Well, I suppose that settles that,” Hermes sighed. “Orpheus, go home. Eurydice, we’ll talk.”

You shouldn’t be doing this. Eurydice stared into the mirror, and her reflection stared back as if it judged her. This wasn’t what one did when their partner was sick. One was supposed to make them soup; take care of them; not their shift. She couldn’t get his face out of her mind. Before he’d left, he’d looked so… vulnerable. And she’d let him go alone.

She tried to reassure herself- she wasn’t being selfish; she was being practical: if Orpheus got worse, they’d need a doctor, and the doctor would need money. That was what it always came to in the end: money.

But her reasoning fell flat. She wouldn’t even be making that much.  When Orpheus performed, he sang for an hour and a half- Eurydice had been given thirty minutes- and she was convinced that even those thirty minutes had been given to her out of pity rather than any real faith in her performance. Thirty minutes- long enough that the restaurant could claim they’d provided the promised live entertainment, but short enough that if it went poorly, the end would be merciful.

In all honesty, it seemed only ones who seemed pleased with the arrangement were Atropos, Clotho, and Lachesis.  They’d been surprisingly enthusiastic about the whole thing- offering to fix Eurydice’s hair and makeup before she went on stage.  Perhaps they were simply eager to see Eurydice try to crawl out of the hole she’d dug herself into.

Finally, after what somehow felt both like forever and no time at all, it was time to perform. One of the sisters- Eurydice didn’t notice which one- pushed her towards the mic, while Hermes introduced her.

There were more people than she’d expected. Shit. She really hadn’t thought this through- the only person who had really heard her sing before was Orpheus. But the only thing worse than singing in front of all these people was being humiliated in front of all these people-defeated by her own stage fright- so Eurydice took a deep breath and started to sing- another sister accompanying her on the piano.

The next thirty minutes passed in a blur. It wouldn’t be the best show anybody had ever seen- and Eurydice hadn’t expected it to be- but it also wasn’t as bad as she feared it might be. Her voice was sweet and low and grew stronger as the performance progressed and she gained confidence. She might even have been able to forget the audience was there altogether, had it not been for the man in the back.

Hades.

She’d noticed him half-way through her second song, and had almost lost her place, her voice faltering momentarily. What was he doing here? As far as Eurydice knew, he only left Hadestown once a year- to pick up Persephone. She remembered the last time he’d came- she hadn’t been able to stop herself from staring. Hades a symbol of wealth she couldn’t imagine in her wildest dream. He’d met her eyes… and grinned, and then Orpheus had stepped between them, a shield.

The show ended, tips were counted, and Eurydice was gathering her things to leave when Clotho, Atropos and Lachesis stopped her. “Someone wants to see you.”

“Tell them I can’t; I have to get home to Orpheus” Eurydice said.

“You don’t say no to a king,” Clotho said, and Eurydice knew right away she was talking about Hades.

On any other night, Eurydice might have been tempted, but she shook her head. “Well, I am. Orpheus needs me.”

“Orpheus’s an adult; he can take care of himself,” Atropos said. “Or don’t you trust him?”

Eurydice faltered. “Of course I do!”

“Then act like it,” Lachesis said. “And besides, you’ve left him alone this long, what’s a little longer?”

Eurydice felt shame deep in her chest. She knew they were just trying to get a rise out of her, but it was working. “I can’t.”

“What a shame,” Clotho said with a shrug. “I’ll let Hades know. That’s too bad, maybe he wanted to give you a tip.”

And that got Eurydice’s attention. “Wait! I’ll- just give me a minute.”

The three sisters grinned and led her to a table in the back.

“I can’t stay long,” Eurydice said as she sat down across from Hades.

Her eyes were drawn immediately to details she wished she didn’t matter- the watch that probably cost more than Eurydice made in a week, the untouched plate of food in front of him. How must that feel- to order food and not even want it?

“I don’t have long- I’m a busy man.” Hades countered. His voice was deeper than she expected, somehow both smooth and gravely at the same time. Her gaze on the plate must have lingered, for he pushed it towards her. “Go ahead.”

She knew he wasn’t offering out of the kindness of his heart- it felt like a calculated move, like bait- but food was food, and between the bar and Orpheus and the show, Eurydice hadn’t had time to eat. She took the plate but didn’t thank him. “What is this about?”

Hades smiled. “You’re quite the songbird.”

“I’m really not- the songs- those are all Orpheus’s. This was just a fluke- a onetime favor,” Eurydice said.

“Orpheus?”

“My partner; he’s the one who normally performs here,” Eurydice said.

“But not tonight,” Hades said. It was a statement, not a question.

“He’s sick,” Eurydice said. It wasn’t information she normally would have offered, but she felt the need to come to Orpheus’s defense. “He would’ve done it if he could. Trust me; he really tried.”

Hades nodded. “I see. Such a pity isn’t it, seeing your loved ones unwell? So… trying.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Eurydice said. “There’s nothing trying about taking care of someone you love.”

“And yet you’re here, and not there,”

Eurydice frowned. “I did what I had to do. For us.”

“Let me guess, is it the money?” Hades asked. “I suppose the life of a poet is a penniless one. It must be hard to take on all that responsibility.”

Eurydice’s silence was damning. It felt like he could see right through her. She loved Orpheus, she really did, but sometimes she was tired.

Hades continued, leaning across the table, his voice lowering. “Wouldn’t it be nice… if it could all go away?”

“What do you mean?” Eurydice asked breathlessly.

Hades slid something across the table. Two coins.

“What are these?” She asked, although she already knew the answer.

“Your ticket. Like I said, you’re quite the songbird. We could use someone like you in Hadestown.”

Eurydice took a deep breath. Tickets to Hadestown. Wasn’t this what she always wanted, a way through the unknown, someplace to feel secure? But there was only one ticket. She shook her head. “I can’t- Orpheus needs me.”

“Think about it,” Hades said. “I don’t expect a decision tonight, or even tomorrow. But when you’re ready, Hadestown will be waiting for you.”

Eurydice hesitated, but ultimately, she took the coins. They felt heavy and thick in her pocket. “I will.”

Hades smiled. “That’s all I ask.”

And with that, he left, leaving Eurydice alone at the table with her thoughts.

Chapter Text

The wind was heavy and bitter cold as Eurydice made her way home, but she hardly noticed it. Over and over and over again she replayed the conversation she’d had with Hades, rolling it over in her mind like a stone. Only the weight of the coins in her pocket kept the whole thing from feeling like a dream. She found her hands constantly reaching for them, making sure they were still there.

She needed to refuse his offer. There was no question about it. Get rid of the coins and pretend the whole thing had never happened. Maybe even later she would mention the whole thing to Orpheus and they would laugh about it.

But the words wouldn’t leave her. Hadestown will be waiting for you.

It was almost a relief when she reached the apartment- no more time to think- but she still hesitated before the door, unsure of what she’d find behind it.

You’re being ridiculous. It’s nothing. He might even be feeling better already. But somehow, she doubted it. She didn’t have that kind of luck.

“Orpheus?” she asked tentatively, opening the door.

The apartment was dark and cold. This on its own wasn’t surprising- Eurydice always turned off the heating before she left, anything to save money- and Orpheus often forgot to turn it back on. That was Orpheus, so eager to get back to his songs that nothing fazed him.

What caught her off guard was the silence. When Orpheus was home, the apartment was full of sound- the gentle strum of his lyre, the scratch of pen on paper as he wrote down music and lyrics. Even in sleep he had a tendency to hum and speak.

“Orpheus?” She repeated, a little louder.

This time there was a groan from their bed and Eurydice felt her shoulders relax just a little. A groan wasn’t an ideal response, but it was better than nothing. She fumbled for the lamp and turned it on. As the light flooded the room, Orpheus groaned again and flung his arm over his eyes.

Eurydice studied him and frowned. He looked just as awful as he had earlier, if not worse, and there was a pallor to his skin that suggested he’d been sick again. With a sigh she sat down on the edge of the bed and ran her fingers through his hair, which was damp with sweat. Unlike earlier, when she’d been unable to determine his temperature, there was no denying he had a fever.

“How are you feeling?” She asked.

He didn’t react to her touch or her words and Eurydice’s frowned deepened. Gently, she nudged the arm away from his face. His eyes were open, but they seemed unfocused, his pupils large as saucers.

“Orpheus?” She asked one more time.

He mumbled something nonsensical and rolled over away from her.

Eurydice could feel panic well up inside of her. This wasn’t nothing. But she pushed it down and tried to focus on what could be done in the moment. If she could bring his fever down, that would be a start.

Her first stop was the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, which was empty. Because of course it was. There hadn’t been a need for fever reducers until now, which meant that Eurydice had prioritized other groceries and Orpheus simply hadn’t thought about it at all.

So she went to the kitchen and grabbed a threadbare dishcloth from a drawer. As she ran it under the sink, something in her peripheral caught her eye. Something red against the mottled gray of the counter. Berries. At first, Eurydice smiled, remembering the surprise Orpheus had promised her this morning. He must have found them for her in the woods. But then something clicked. Berries. From the woods. From Orpheus, who for all the time he spent in the woods never seemed to understand that it could be dangerous as well as beautiful.

Poison. It had to be.

“Shit,” She cursed under her breath. “Shit!”

She grabbed a few of the berries and shoved them into her coat pocket. Before she left she crossed back to the bed and gave Orpheus a kiss on his forehead. He didn’t stir.

The doctor lived across town, and as she made the trek, Eurydice regretted more than ever that they didn’t own a phone. But more than that, she regretted her own emotions. For amongst the panic and concern and worry that flowed through her, there was a deeper and surprising current. Anger.

Anger at Orpheus for blindly trusting the world in front of him. How could he have not known they were poisonous? How could he have thought, even for a moment, that it was safe to eat unknown fruit from the woods? How could he be so naïve?

She tried to shake the feeling, but Eurydice was used to holding onto her anger and she was a fuming mess by the time she knocked on the doctor’s door.

“What do you need?” The doctor matched her energy. He had probably been asleep, Eurydice realized, or about to be. In any case, he seemed annoyed to find her on his doorstep this late, as if medical emergencies didn’t happen in the night.

Resisting the urge to scowl, Eurydice reached into her coat pocket and produced the berries, her words coming out quick and frantic “I think my partner ate these- he’s been sick since this afternoon and it’s getting worse. Please- I need your help.”

“Wait here,” The doctor said with a sigh that didn’t escape Eurydice, and went back inside, returning moments later with his medicine bag. “Okay, show me the way.”

The journey back was shorter- thank god the doctor had an automobile- but every second felt like eternity to Eurydice. As he drove the doctor asked her questions- about Orpheus’s medical history and what had the plant looked like and how much had he eaten and when- and Eurydice felt ashamed about how little she knew of the answers.

Did she really know Orpheus at all?

Finally they arrived at the apartment. It was exactly as she had left it- dark, quiet, and Eurydice felt her heart sink further as the doctor looked around, his expression unreadable. She realized how sad the apartment must have looked to him, how small, how sparsely furnished. Eurydice had been traveling for too long to have many possessions, and Orpheus didn’t mind an empty room as long as he had his lyre.

“He’s over here,” Eurydice led him over to the bed.

The examination was another eternity. She watched from afar as the Doctor took Orpheus’s temperature and pulse- shined a bright light in his eyes. Orpheus was still throughout all of it and the doctor was quiet, his lips pursed as he wrote notes down on a notebook from his pocket. Eurydice was too far away to read what they said.

She wanted to scream. Explain something- anything! Tell me what’s going on! Somehow she managed to keep still. Just when she thought she couldn’t handle it anymore- the doctor cleared his throat, and he turned to her. Eurydice’s chest tightened as she braced herself for the worst.

“He’ll live.”

Her heart skipped a beat, almost as if she couldn’t let herself believe what she had heard. “What?”

“He’ll live,” The doctor repeated.

Relief flooded her veins and Eurydice felt her shoulders relax. She started to thank the doctor, but he continued before she could speak.

“I can give him something help neutralize the poison, but it’ll be a few days before his symptoms subside completely. You were lucky- the berries he ate were dangerous- but not usually fatal.”

Eurydice nodded and listened dutifully as he gave her three bottles of medicine- one for poison, one for fever, and one for nausea- and explained doses and schedules. And then he mentioned fees and her heart dropped, relief replaced with dread.

It always came back to the money. She’d known it would be more than they could really afford- no one did anything for free- but she still grimaced as she handed over all the tip money from tonight.

With the matter of payment settled, the doctor didn’t linger, and Eurydice wasn’t sad to see him go.

Everything she’d made tonight: gone- just like that. Over something easily avoided.

Suddenly frustrated, she kicked off her boots with more force than necessary. Threw her coat onto the floor. As it landed, there was an unexpected clinking sound.

Everything gone-except for the coins Hades had given her.

They were still at the bottom of her coat pocket. She took them in her hand, held them up to the light. They gleamed with promise.

Hadestown will be waiting for you.