Tenebris (Hades x Male!Reader)

The Healer

When Y/n was finally released from his "meditation" in the undercroft, he had no idea how much time had passed. How many days and nights he had spent in the darkness, away from the sun and flower fields, with no one for company — nothing for comfort.

By the time he was released, he was shaken by his experience as he always was. Demeter was as remorseless as ever, not sparing a teaspoon of mercy for her son as she quickly ushered him to the fields to practice some more. As if she hadn't locked him in there at all.

But this was the natural cycle of Y/n's life. He would make a mistake, be punished for it, and then be expected to practice from dawn to dusk. His entire life so far was work, his existence: his mother's shadow, and his name: forgotten. The only respite was the small moments he would catch behind his mother's back where he would lay in the flower fields and rest. Let the sun soak his face and let it bleed in through his eyelids.

It was peace; the very essence of joy and delight.

"Come, Y/n," his mother called to him, "let us bless these men and women who remain faithful to the temple."

Y/n would join his mother's side, as he always did, and watch as she made the wheat by the village grow an inch taller and glow a shade gold-er.

"You pour your power into these plants," Y/n observed, "and they do not wither. Why then, for me, do they die?"

The smile ever-present on Demeter's face faltered. "Life," she began with a hesitant swallow, "is a tricky thing, my son. Life must be created perfectly or it will fail. Use too much power and..." a sprig of wheat began to glow brighter and brighter until its seeds and grain exploded, "...the life expires. Use too little," Demeter reached for a wilted flower by the field. She traced it with a gentle, loving finger, "and they wilt; die before they can become what they are meant to become."

As Demeter continued to trace the flower, it began to un-shrivel. Its petals spread out, turning healthy and vibrant.

Y/n watched, unsure, "But it seems as if I use any amount of power they, you know, die."

Demeter set a hand on his shoulder, "You will be patient for now. You will raise your plants as the mortals do until your power flourishes properly."

"...Yes, Mother."

_____

Days easily bled into weeks in Nysa. Y/n's existence was consistent, never broken and never altered. There was nothing to hate (except for the lingering darkness of the temple's undercroft that creeped into his dreams at night) and nothing to love (save for the brilliant golden days he spent lazing under the sun).

It would be difficult to explain what exactly inspired Y/n to enjoy it. Difficult to explain why he did not mind his lack of worship, why he did not mind ungrateful mortals, and his absent father.

The ease; the cycle of his life remained unbroken. Until the day a man wandered into the temple and destroyed it.

_____

"Mother to all," a mortal woman was on her knees before Demeter. In her hold, a baby pig squealed, squeezed tight between the mortal's arms and chest. "I offer you this swine and pray you find it in your heart to watch over my son."

Said son was behind her, pale and trembling. Still, he was on his knees. Y/n felt a sick sort of worry twist his stomach into knots. He stood, watching, in the shadow of Demeter's throne.

"He is very ill and I know you preserve the natural cycles of life and death, but please," the mortal's plea was a quivering, sad thing. "As a mother, find it in your heart to watch over him."

A hearth burned steady and bright, setting the temple's white stone in tones of orange. Demeter regarded the woman, her pitiful offering, and then the woman's son.

"He may stay in the temple and I will call Priestess Carissa to watch over him," Demeter decided, showing mercy for a fellow mother. "I do not, however, guarantee his life."

"Of course not, of course not!" the mortal woman was frantic to say, pressing her forehead against the floor. "Thank you, Your Reverence."

Demeter nodded before dismissing the woman with a wave of her hand. The swine was left alive at the temple's doorstep. As for the sick boy, Demeter ordered Y/n to take him to Priestess Carissa. She was the only other resident of the temple and she devoted herself fully to servicing both Demeter and Y/n himself.

Carissa was meditating in her private chamber when Y/n found her.

"Mother wants you to watch over this mortal. He's ill."

Carissa opened her eyes, studying the feverish boy in front of her. "Take him to the inner sanctum for me, Your Grace. I will be right behind you."

Y/n did as asked, and watched silently from afar as Carissa washed and fed the boy. She had the mortal drink water from the springs and kept him cool with damp cloths.

Yet, when the mortal boy settled, Carissa admitted, "He may not make it through the night."

Mortals other than Carissa were rarely allowed in the temple unless it was during festivities. Never had a sick one been allowed to stay. To drink from the gods' clear water and eat the rich foods of Demeter's temple. However, Y/n had never seen a mortal as sick as the boy.

There is a first time for everything.

Fortunately, the mortal did not die that night. He survived, albeit weakly. The problem was inflamed, however, when a second sick mortal joined the first.

"The people of the village are falling ill," Demeter said aloud to Y/n during the fourth night when five mortals now decorated the temple's inner sanctum. "The first to come has died."

Y/n had put a flower on the boy's grave early that morning.

Demeter paced in her throne room. Y/n, quiet as a mouse, watched her.

"I wonder what illness it is," she mused. "I wonder who these people have angered."

At that, Y/n perked up, "Do you think they did?"

"Hmm?"

"They angered someone?" Y/n clarified.

"Most certainly," Demeter replied, "but I have no idea who. It is unfortunate to watch my faithful wither away in my own temple."

"...Unfortunate," Y/n echoed to himself, eyes drifting to the floor.

Salvation came a week later in the form of bright-eyed young man who swept up the temples's steps and implored Demeter to listen to him.

"I have heard of the ailment befalling the people of this village," he said to her, "and I have come prepared to aid them. If it pleases you, Your Reverence, allow me to see the sick and heal them."

Demeter regarded the man before her. "It would please me..." she trailed dainty fingers over her carved armrest, "...if you succeeded."

"I am a skilled physician," the man did not boast, but informed. "I have faith I can heal these people."

Y/n watched his mother's eyes narrow. "...What is thy name?"

"Asclepius, Your Reverence."

"Guide him to the inner sanctum," Demeter ordered Y/n who quickly complied, leading the man further into the temple.

"You are a god, are you not?" the man, Asclepius directed the question at Y/n's back.

The (h/c) divine did not even spare him a glance. "...Yes."

"I have never heard of you."

"Not many have," and before the conversation could continue, Y/n waved the man into the inner sanctum. "Here."

Asclepius nodded and got to work immediately, using strange herbs and concoctions to heal the sick mortals. Priestess Carissa helped him. Y/n watched over the both of them as Demeter abandoned the temple and retreated into her safe domain of growing the village's crops.

It had been a long week.