Hermes and Orpheus live above Herme’s bar by the ocean, which sometimes get hit by monumental storms. and when Hermes finds a girl in the woods caught in the storm, he doesn’t what kind of hurricane he’s bringing with him when she comes back with him.
***
HERMES is an old man, an old man who cares for a young boy who cares for music and for life. an old man who will spend the rest of his days repeating the same tasks over and over, his muscles only know how to wipe down the bar in one circular motion. he’s just stuck in a loop and he’s happy there, with his godson and the godsend that sent him this life of security in this little woodsy town. his boy will probably live out his days the same way, fingers grow aching from playing so much, voice growing strained over the years until he, too, is an old, old man and wipes down the bar every night before turning off the lights and wishing the room goodbye. he’s content with this life. with the forest on one side, the ocean on the other, it’s a life of little risk. terrible storms roll in from the ocean every once in awhile but the people call those “hundred year storms”. the name is pretty self explanatory: storms that happen once in every hundred years.
today is apparently that day.
“mister Hermes!” Orpheus calls from upstairs. “should I pull out the sandbags? Miss Afra said that there could be flooding.”
“I’ll do it, son, you stay upstairs.” Hermes yells back.
“but-”
“no questions asked, you get to bed, I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Orpheus, the ever obedient, does exactly that. but Hermes knows that he won’t sleep for a long time, probably not until long after Hermes is home and in bed across from the boy. he worries, that kid, worries far more than Hermes would like. but it seems that is just his nature, to care so deeply that his soul hurts when he has to be separated from people.
Hermes wasn’t worried about the storm until he stepped outside with his flashlight in hand. winds going on dangerous speeds. rain pounding on his back like hard rocks. the darkness in the sky... it worries him, deeply. a typhoon is forming out there in that rocky ocean, for sure. he struggles against the wind and puts up a couple sandbags against the side of their home, the side that faces the beach. water falls over the wall of their brick home like waterfalls, streams through the concrete patches and blurring the engravings in the brick from view. and in a split second decision, he goes for some probably soaked through firewood. who knows how long they’ll be in that house for.
he’s got a few logs in his arms and is preparing to head back around the house when he lifts his head towards the forest. his ears must be tricking him, no one would be out in the woods at this time, in this storm? absolutely not. but the side of him that is a father, that worries as deeply as Orpheus does, itches to just check. it can’t hurt to just check? it definitely can but he’d rather go into those woods and find that lost child, than leave it and find out in a few days that a body has been found. if it’s what Orpheus would do, Hermes will do it too.
he drops the logs over by the door of their house, he’ll be back for those later. he hopes. and he heads directly into those woods, aiming his flashlight at the ground so that he doesn’t step into some chasm or trip over a root. he’s known these woods since he was a child but he never liked them at night, it always unsettled him. and now, he trudges through these woods in the pitch darkness of night and in the danger of a brewing hurricane. he’s about to call it a night, say he misheard, when he hears it again, clearer this time. closer this time.
please
no going back now. he won’t go back to Orpheus and his worried eyes and tell him that he left this poor person to the torture of this storm. how disappointed in him he’d be if he knew he ever considered it. having the boy in the house has made him a better person, convinced of the good of the world. growing up in the harshness of that town, hearing the opinions of other, and losing hope for the world, he’d lost hope in humanity. Orpheus is the reason he’s still hoping today. Orpheus is the reason he trains his eyes on ever crook and crevice of this forest. determined to spot this lost soul.
he expects a heep of a person. he expects a wet, soaking, helpless child all curled up trying to keep their warmth inside.
what he does not expect, however, is to have his flashlight knocked out of his hand, his knees crumpled under him, hands on his shoulders keeping him planted to the ground.
and then a voice, “oh my gods, I’m so sorry!”
there are so many feelings coursing through his body, but the main one: confusion. first, the yelling helplessness of the voice in the woods. second, the process in which he got swiftly knocked to his knees, expertly and quickly. and thirdly, the apology coming soon after having his flashlight knocked away, and the voice... a smooth, lovely voice he’d assumed would’ve come from a singer at his bar or a woman who reads audiobooks on the radio for a living. so many conflicting moments of juxtaposition just clash in his head and all he has to say in response is:
“e-excuse me?”
she lets go of his shoulders and he hears the shuffling around him, he’s unsure of what she’s doing until he feels his flashlight is put back in his hands.
“I-I’m so sorry,” she shouts over the wind, curling his fingers around the handle of the light for him. “I thought you might be... I’m sorry.”
he turns his light so that it shines on her. and he’s faced with a girl, not even a woman, about the same age as Orpheus, with rain falling over over her cheeks like tracks of tears and black hair sticking to her full cheeks. she blinks at the light, shielding her face with her hands. she’s shivering and soaked through, but holding herself strongly. she pulls him by his arms, pretending to brush a leaf off of his shoulder and steps back.
she’s tiny. is all he can think now that they are face to face, standing on the same level. her head reaches his shoulders, her small stature not helping her make up for height in any way.
he’s not going to leave her in this storm, no way in hell is he leaving this one behind.
“Come with me!” he shouts, motioning the same thing to get his point across in case she can’t hear him all that well. she glances from him to behind her, back into the darkness of the forest. like something is haunting her, as if there is a chain on her ankle, not allowing her to leave this place. Hermes wonders what there is that this girl is afraid of. he decides, however, that he will ask questions later and get out of this storm now.
He pulls her closer, grasping her shoulders with both of his hands, he is sure she can hear him now. “come. it isn’t safe out here. no questions asked about who you are, I can’t... I won’t leave you here.”
her lips part in what looks like confusion but one glance up at the darkness of the sky must convince her. she nods once and leans down to the forest floor to pick something up. he points his light to follow her hands, helping her only a small bit. she finds what she needs, a ratty old messenger bag that she clutches to her stomach as if it is the only thing in the world that matters.
and it occurs to him that it may as well be that much. he knows nothing of this girl. where she came from. if she even came from anywhere at all. he’s never seen her before but what does that matter? she looks lost and his entire life has proved that he quite has a soft spot for lost, lonely children.
he tries to grab her wrist, lead her out of the forest, but she rips herself out of his grip.
“I follow from behind.” the hardness in her tone doesn’t surprise him, exactly, he’s not shocked.
“How will I know you’re following?” he asks.
“where else do I have to go.” an answer that is good enough for him. he begins their walk out of the forest. now, they are facing the way the wind is coming from. the wind whistles in his ears, rain pounds against his face. his whole body feels like it’s fighting against this great wind, against the instinct to fall back and curl up and wait it out. but Orpheus is waiting for him to come home soon, he’s probably already worried sick, probably ready to burst out of the house and start a search party.
and true to her word, the girl is still there when they near the house. she’s shivering from head to foot but she’s there.
“do you live alone?” is her next question, an oddly out of left field one but he finds to qualms with answering it while he digs his keys out of pocket.
“no,” he says, beginning to unlock the door. “with my godson.”
“how...” she licks her lips. “how old is he?”
he frowns. “nineteen. why?”
she looks like she’s going to be sick.
he doesn’t open the door quite yet, “dear, you alright?”
“yes,” she says, brushing her soaked bangs out of her eyes. “yes, I am.”
he opens the door to the warmth of the bar, the dim glowing golden light that casts a hale of light onto the drenched ground around the doorway. “get inside, c’mon.”
she hesitates for a long few seconds before stepping inside, her whole body dripping (as is his) into the hardwood floor of the room. he closes the door behind him, and as if on cue, Orpheus comes running down the stairs, tripping over his feet.
“Mister Hermes-” he stops short at the sight of their guest. his eyes train on her, his mouth parted wide.
“Orpheus, would you get a couple towels please?” Hermes doesn’t even acknowledge the girl, he can already sense the fight or flight mode flying up in her. she twists the hem of her coat around her thumb, a blush spreading across her cheeks at her presence even being noticed. he has this strange feeling that she is not used to being noticed all that much.
Orpheus comes back with a couple of their ratty towels, his eyes never leaving the girl, on her always, on her face and just... watching. Hermes knows that Orpheus can be slightly... overbearing at times. he’s tempted to tell him to not stare at her so openly but due to the confusion of the moment and the fact that they have other priorities at the moment, he holds back.
“Orpheus,” he says his name again, getting his attention. “go downstairs and start up the furnace? we’ve gotta get some warmth back into this place.”
Orpheus nods, having said not two words since coming down those stairs and spotting the girl. Orpheus falls easily but this is one person that Hermes does not want Orpheus falling for. she’ll be gone within a week, he can tell.
“I won’t be asking you any questions,” Hermes says, turning to her. “you keep to yourself until this storm passes over, then you go where you please. alright?”
she nods. “alright.”
“I’ll get you some clean clothes, stay right there.”
for @nightshade300 a fic where Orpheus and Eurydice meet as kids.
***
Eurydice doesn’t like her house, all her friends (well, the few friends she does have) say they love their houses and their rooms and their moms and dads. she doesn’t. she knows somehow she’s supposed to love her home and her mom and dad, but the part of her that hates walking through the door stops her from loving going home.
so she doesn’t go home until it’s so dark that she admits that she’s frightened.
but for now, she sits on the floor of a forest, a dark forest that has ins and outs that she plans to discover in the years to come. the world moves in the slow circles, the trees hold her close. she’d say she feels at home here but she knows that even now she is unsafe. she grits her teeth, eyes open and wide and watching. she can’t relax, her muscles are always tense. so when she lies down in bed and has to let her eyes close, her legs and arms hurt from the day. she’s constantly vigilant, walking on tippy toes.
she walks about, the shadows frighten her but she sneers back at them. they’re just shadows. they can’t hurt her, like other things can. she’s got to get better at that, she’s got to squash her fear, just like Cas says to. she’s gotta hold herself up, he tells her to hit back, to scream, to bite, to run. she isn’t sure what she’s supposed to do if there isn’t someplace to run to. what do you do if there is no place that someone will hold you and tell you they love you? her solution: go to the forest. where trees hold her in their branches, where shadows caress her cheeks, where leaves braid her hair. and sometimes, wind plays her music when it whistles through the limbs and canopies above.
so it’s surprising to her when she hears actual music drift through her usual hiding place.
she isn’t afraid of what lurks in this place in the daylight, so she marches with loud feet, hoping that would scare the music away but it doesn’t, if anything, it grows louder. but soon, she finds that’s because she gets closer to the source. when she finds herself getting very close to her favorite clearing, she can practically feel the person’s presence in the place she loves to sit and sing and wait for dark in. she waits behind a tree, listening to the music. well, listening at first. but then, enraptured. she can’t stop listening. it’s a little messily plucked in some places but she feels as if this person is very skilled, the resonance she can recognize like it comes from her own vocal chords. the melody striking her deep inside of her. it makes her want to cry and laugh and jump and shout and smile all at once.
in a burst of energy and determination, she jumps out from behind the tree and the music abruptly stops. she’s faced with nothing more than a boy, maybe a little younger than she is but not by much. sitting in the center of the little clearing, clutching a guitar now tightly to his chest, is a boy with a shocked, frightened look in his eyes. she understands why, she’s a dirty, feral looking girl who definitely needs a bath who just jumped out of nowhere.
“what are you doing here?” she snarls, stalking forward and snapping out of her musical reverie.
“I-I-I... um, my... I just...” he’s scared, she can see that but the way he’s cowering at her is just a little much. she’s not that much bigger than him anyways, only taller by maybe an inch.
“my name is Orpheus.”
he blurts it out like it’s a shameful sentence, like he isn’t allowed to say his name. which she didn’t ask, by the way.
“I didn’t ask you what your name was.” she crosses her arms over her chest like her mom does when she’s upset with Cas, it looks intimidating when she does it anyways.
“It’s Orpheus.”
“I know, you said it before.”
“what’s your name?”
“Eurydice.” she says proudly, she loves her name, it means Justice. that’s what her mom says at least. it rolls off the tongue easily and just sounds wonderful to her.
“that’s a funny name.” Orpheus disagrees apparently. she opens her mouth to retort angrily but before she can, he looks down at his guitar, strumming out a chord and opening his mouth, singing out one word on one note.
“Eurydice.”
she has to stop, stunned at the way he can make her already beautiful name sound so... lovely. so musical.
“nevermind,” he says. “I could write songs about your name, so that makes it good. a good name, that’s what Eurydice is, a good name.”
“you’re weird.” she says, in her sarcastic voice that her brother has been teaching her, trying to scare him away. it doesn’t work, he sticks his tongue out between his teeth, scrunching up his eyes.
“mister Hermes says that isn’t a nice word.”
“who’s mister Hermes?”
“he’s my... he’s mister Hermes.”
she tilts her head to look at him again, considering how he might come to be here with her never seeing him before in town. “is he your dad?”
Orpheus strums another chord. “I don’t have a dad.”
she bites her tongue, forcing the lie past her lips, mostly because she wants it to be true. “me neither.”
his eyes shoot up, meeting hers directly for the first time. he has good eyes, she decides, green and brown and shiny. “really?!”
she nods, tucking black hair behind her ear shyly.
“I never met someone else who didn’t have a dad! do you have a mom too? I don’t, but that’s okay, I have mister Hermes who’s real nice and talks to me and I got to play my music for him the other day, he says I’m really good and... sorry.”
“why?”
“why what?”
“why are you sorry?”
he shifts awkwardly in the grass. “I talk a lot, everyone says I should stop.”
deciding that this boy isn’t dangerous, she drops down to sit in the grass in front of him. “screw ‘em.”
he blinks at her, confused. she shrugs. “they don’t matter, not really, you be you. that’s what my brother says.”
his eyes light up. “you have a brother? that’s so cool!”
she has to laugh, because she usually doesn’t get along with kids her age this well. but Orpheus is nice, and talks too much or too little and likes her name, all of the qualifications she needs for a friend.
“so are you moving here?” she asks, hoping that the answer is yes. she could use a friend. since the current count is 0.
“we’re here on a... business trip, I think. that’s what mister Hermes said.” her heart sinks a little in her chest, of course her only potential friend is here temporarily. of course her one chance at eliminating a little of her loneliness can’t be utilized.
“oh.” he seems to recognize that that made her sad, that her expression falls after he said those words.
“sorry.”
she shakes her head. “that’s not your fault... play another note thingy on your guitar. I like the way it sounds.”
a smile works its way onto his face, he has a wonderful smile, she decides. he arranges his fingers intricately on the fretboard of his instrument and plays one beautiful note, letting it ring into the clearing and reverberate through her head. she absorbs it, taking it in and breathing it out. it almost cleanses her of her entire bad day, letting her start anew with this new cleaned out body.
“how-?” she begins before she’s cut off by a loud shout that rumbles through the forest, she jumps to her feet and scampers back into the forest before she can even stop to consider who or what it is that’s coming in their direction. a small voice follows after her but she doesn’t stop to hear what Orpheus says, instead, she puts some distance between the two of them before backtracking a little when she realizes she might’ve left Orpheus alone in danger. and she’d never leave a helpless boy to the clutches of a wild animal, that’s just not nice.
she watches from a distance as a man in a fancy silver suit comes into the clearing, taking Orpheus hand and pulling the boy to his feet.
“you know you aren’t supposed to run off like that, Orpheus.”
“I know.”
“you could’ve gotten lost or seriously injured.”
“I know.”
the man sighs. “why did you come out here? it’s just plain forest.”
“I met a girl.” Orpheus blurts out. The man gives him a strange look.
“A girl?”
“yeah, she liked my music.”
“hm,” he considers the idea for a moment, as he thinks he begins tugging Orpheus out of the clearing. “could’ve been a wood nymph.”
“what do wood nymphs look like?” Orpheus asks as he slings his guitar over his back, contentedly taking mister Hermes’ hand.
“they’re small, very pretty little things, and fearsome too.”
Orpheus nods. “she was all of those things. and she was really, really pretty so that probably means she was a princess wood nymph.”
mister Hermes laughs. “probably.”
Eurydice never thinks that she’ll ever see the boy with the guitar who loved her name ever again. and she was very wrong.
