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The sigh is not quite disappointment, but it's close enough that Violet's shoulders slump and her expression clouds. She doesn't want to disappoint him, as antagonistic as their relationship is, and the thudding pressure of disappointment from the Lord of the Dead is nearly equal to the pain of disappointing her father. She may rail against him, but she still cares what he thinks. Especially about her.
He's Pluto today, expression stern rather than the slightly manic air that always seems to grip Hades. His blue eyes, so similar to hers that mortals expected them to be related, still have that spark though, the crackle of energy that made the ruler of the underworld so dangerous, the reason people think him mad.
He shifts his weight slightly, impatiently, and Violet realizes she hasn't answered his question. It's simple, what happened, but the answer isn't.
"I wasn't looking."
He hums a noncommittal sort of noise, and waves a hand, a piece of paper alighting in his hand with a crackle of blue fire. He adjusts his glasses absently, a gesture Violet has always found comforting since she was a child. It does nothing to reassure her now, but she steels herself and her back straightens.
"Would you like to know what happened?" She doesn't answer and he doesn't seem to expect her to. Of course she doesn't want to know, but she already knows he is going to illuminate her regardless. Death is painful for the ones left behind, she is not exempt from the process. His delivery is calm, he sees so many of the dead passing through his gates everyday that one more child isn't even a passing thought, shouldn't be at least, but she can hear in his tone that isn't true. No, not even Hades is exempt from grief.
It had been her mistake, her misstep that ended in this. She didn't see what happened because she had looked away, couldn't bear to see another of her friends die. Her stepfather was a constant reminder that death is impossible to ignore.
"Do you understand why you need to know?" When she shakes her head, he crouches down in front of her and reaches up to brush the tears off her cheeks. "How old are you?"
"Fifteen."
He nods, holding her chin with his hand. A fleeting smile flashes across his features before the stern expression returns. "There is a time coming where so many of your friends will die and all you will be able to do is mourn them. You, my dear, are a child of spring, a beacon of hope that one day the pain will end, Rome will look to you."
Violet's eyes go wide and her still sun-kissed skin turns ashen. "I don't want that."
Pluto's expression doesn't change, but his eyes flash. She is too young to realize its pride, that this little girl so easily lets her voice be heard. Even if her voice is occasionally shouting that he is not her real father. His wife may bear grudges over his occasional marital indiscretions, but Pluto, above all, knows that death and life are intertwined. The dead are his domain, but Violet manages to straddle both sides of the fence.
"You don't have a choice." A finger goes to her lips before she can even protest and her eyes narrow in annoyance, brightness coming back to her features as power ripples through her and the bare trees surrounding them shiver as if preparing to move forward. The finger on her lips moves to flick her nose and she steps back, thoroughly annoyed, as the trees still and Pluto stands.
"Why not? How come I never get a choice? I didn't choose to be born--" she glares at her stepfather when he opens his mouth, a mild protest on his tongue. "No, shut up, I didn't choose this, I've never been to the Isle of Blest. I haven't been reborn, this was Mom's choice and I'm stuck with it."
He doesn't refute that, it's the truth after all and she isn't the first demigod to bring it up. She is also not the first demigod to tell him to shut up. She is however, one of the very, very few he allows to get away with it. She's grieving. And his daughter.
"You're not gonna say anything?" His silence is answer enough. "Why me, why not... why not some child of Apollo, if you want symbolism. The sun always rises."
"What is coming, Violet, will not end in one day. Just as Rome was not built in one, the rebuilding from this will take much longer than you can imagine now. Your Legion will look to you before it is done and you will lead them."
She shakes her head, all the stubbornness of her mother shoved into a wild teenager. "No, I won't."
Pluto nods, a simple gesture that infuriates Violet, making her tiny hands ball into fists. She hates being at the whim of gods because its easy -- who better to run your errands and do your dirty work than your own child, so handy. Pluto is the object of her annoyance only because he is right there.
His sigh is barely an echo as Violet wakes up, brushing damp curls off her forehead and shoving soaked sheets off of her. Pluto's last words still ring in her ears like a warning. Soon.
He's Pluto today, expression stern rather than the slightly manic air that always seems to grip Hades. His blue eyes, so similar to hers that mortals expected them to be related, still have that spark though, the crackle of energy that made the ruler of the underworld so dangerous, the reason people think him mad.
He shifts his weight slightly, impatiently, and Violet realizes she hasn't answered his question. It's simple, what happened, but the answer isn't.
"I wasn't looking."
He hums a noncommittal sort of noise, and waves a hand, a piece of paper alighting in his hand with a crackle of blue fire. He adjusts his glasses absently, a gesture Violet has always found comforting since she was a child. It does nothing to reassure her now, but she steels herself and her back straightens.
"Would you like to know what happened?" She doesn't answer and he doesn't seem to expect her to. Of course she doesn't want to know, but she already knows he is going to illuminate her regardless. Death is painful for the ones left behind, she is not exempt from the process. His delivery is calm, he sees so many of the dead passing through his gates everyday that one more child isn't even a passing thought, shouldn't be at least, but she can hear in his tone that isn't true. No, not even Hades is exempt from grief.
It had been her mistake, her misstep that ended in this. She didn't see what happened because she had looked away, couldn't bear to see another of her friends die. Her stepfather was a constant reminder that death is impossible to ignore.
"Do you understand why you need to know?" When she shakes her head, he crouches down in front of her and reaches up to brush the tears off her cheeks. "How old are you?"
"Fifteen."
He nods, holding her chin with his hand. A fleeting smile flashes across his features before the stern expression returns. "There is a time coming where so many of your friends will die and all you will be able to do is mourn them. You, my dear, are a child of spring, a beacon of hope that one day the pain will end, Rome will look to you."
Violet's eyes go wide and her still sun-kissed skin turns ashen. "I don't want that."
Pluto's expression doesn't change, but his eyes flash. She is too young to realize its pride, that this little girl so easily lets her voice be heard. Even if her voice is occasionally shouting that he is not her real father. His wife may bear grudges over his occasional marital indiscretions, but Pluto, above all, knows that death and life are intertwined. The dead are his domain, but Violet manages to straddle both sides of the fence.
"You don't have a choice." A finger goes to her lips before she can even protest and her eyes narrow in annoyance, brightness coming back to her features as power ripples through her and the bare trees surrounding them shiver as if preparing to move forward. The finger on her lips moves to flick her nose and she steps back, thoroughly annoyed, as the trees still and Pluto stands.
"Why not? How come I never get a choice? I didn't choose to be born--" she glares at her stepfather when he opens his mouth, a mild protest on his tongue. "No, shut up, I didn't choose this, I've never been to the Isle of Blest. I haven't been reborn, this was Mom's choice and I'm stuck with it."
He doesn't refute that, it's the truth after all and she isn't the first demigod to bring it up. She is also not the first demigod to tell him to shut up. She is however, one of the very, very few he allows to get away with it. She's grieving. And his daughter.
"You're not gonna say anything?" His silence is answer enough. "Why me, why not... why not some child of Apollo, if you want symbolism. The sun always rises."
"What is coming, Violet, will not end in one day. Just as Rome was not built in one, the rebuilding from this will take much longer than you can imagine now. Your Legion will look to you before it is done and you will lead them."
She shakes her head, all the stubbornness of her mother shoved into a wild teenager. "No, I won't."
Pluto nods, a simple gesture that infuriates Violet, making her tiny hands ball into fists. She hates being at the whim of gods because its easy -- who better to run your errands and do your dirty work than your own child, so handy. Pluto is the object of her annoyance only because he is right there.
His sigh is barely an echo as Violet wakes up, brushing damp curls off her forehead and shoving soaked sheets off of her. Pluto's last words still ring in her ears like a warning. Soon.