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The Immortal Heart	By : amandalee Category: 1 through F > Clash of the Titans (2010) > Clash of the Titans (2010) Views: 7819 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: We do not own Clash of the Titans or the characters portrayed in this story, and we make no money from writing this.

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A/N: And Hades' grim ordeal continues...

Chapter 47

Zeus did not know how long he had been asleep when the sound of Hades’ tormented cries woke him up. The Olympian leader was reaching for his sword already before he was fully awake, ready to sever limbs and heads from torsos in case he caught somebody hurting his abused brother.

Sword in his hand, Zeus looked around in surprise, momentarily shocked to find himself alone in the cave. All three gods had fallen asleep huddled tightly together, and now both Hades and Poseidon were gone. Then the anguished cries sounded again, and Zeus was able to pinpoint their location to somewhere outside.

Not wasting any time, the youngest god darted out of the cave, fearing that the titans had returned sometime during the night and captured both his brothers. However, no titans were in sight when Zeus made his exit. Only the skinned carcass of the bear hung exactly where Chiron had suspended it the previous night, already gathering flies in the bright autumn sun. Otherwise the location appeared deserted, and Zeus looked around, now almost desperate to find his kin.

“Poseidon?” he called out, not lowering his guard. “Hades…?”

A few seconds of silence passed, and then another scream cut through the air. The voice belonged to Hades, and Zeus ran toward the source of it, his sword still raised.

Poseidon’s eyes widened in fright when his younger brother suddenly darted out of the foliage, looking unusually savage with his long hair hanging bushy and disheveled around his face. The sword Zeus held over his shoulder scared him even more.

“Zeus, it’s me!” Poseidon exclaimed, one hand frantically grasping for the trident which lay in the grass beside him. His other hand maintained its steady hold on Hades, who was squatting next to him and still occasionally crying out in pain.

Poseidon’s blue cloak, which was now the only piece of clothing Hades had, was wrapped around his shoulders to provide some modesty and warmth. It was, however, painfully obvious what was going on, and Zeus’ feral visage immediately softened at the sight of his poor brother attempting to move his bowels.

“I had taken Chiron’s place in the night to stand watch,” Poseidon explained. “He needed to evacuate, and rather than wake you, he asked for my help.”

Hades, face already red from his efforts, seemed to blush even deeper at being found out.

Zeus sighed remorsefully. Because of the cruelty of their enemy, Hades could not even do the simplest of tasks that should have come naturally to any living being.

“While I am grateful that you wish to assist me, Poseidon,” the youngest Olympian replied, “I would have been more than happy to help our brother. By the way, where is Chiron?”

“He said he would go back to our first camp and see if any weapons or armor could be salvaged,” Poseidon answered, backing away as his youngest sibling took Hades in his arms. “I think I will get to preserving the meat from his kill.

“Very well,” Zeus said, not even bothering to look Poseidon’s way. “I will remain here with Hades.”

“I apologize for not waking you,” Hades said as he and Zeus were left alone in the bushes. “You are our leader, and I thought you would need the most rest out of all of us…”

“Shh,” Zeus interrupted his eldest brother, and he planted a kiss on his forehead. “You have been through too much. Do not worry yourself.”

Several seconds passed in silence before Hades felt ready to try again. He strained and was rewarded with pain all over again, without much else.

“Do you think you can manage?” Zeus asked him.

“I need to…” Hades grunted in discomfort. “But… it won’t… move…”

Zeus looked down beneath his brother’s bottom and could see the product of several successful attempts already lying in the grass. Only the pieces of stool were covered in a sheen of blood, and more was steadily dripping out of Hades’ orifice as he tried to push out the lump blocking the exit of his body.

Zeus closed his eyes at the sight. He had hoped that Hades had stopped bleeding during the night, but the stress of emptying his bowels was currently too much for the wounded god’s frail body. Even worse was the fact that Zeus had absolutely no idea how to help his mate.

“I… I can’t…” Hades gasped, collapsing into Zeus’ arms, utterly exhausted. A bluish vein pulsed at his temple, coiling underneath his skin like a small snake.

The Olympian leader gently lowered his brother onto the grass, large hand caressing the sweat-damp skin of Hades’ flushed, swollen face.

“Perhaps you need to rest before you try again,” Zeus said, trying despite everything to sound optimistic. “Recover some strength. Have you eaten anything this morning?”

A weak headshake was all Hades managed as far as a reply.

“You should eat. Your body needs the sustenance.”

“I am… not hungry… Besides… why should I eat if I cannot even evacuate…?”

Zeus sighed, adamant not to let himself be discouraged. “I will make you something,” he said. “And I will find a way to help you evacuate. I promise, Hades.”

He gathered the exhausted, bleeding god up from the ground and started carrying him back toward the cave. Hades’ breathing was shallow and rapid, and Zeus wondered how much more blood his brother could afford to lose.

“Any luck?” Poseidon asked his brothers as they returned from the foliage. Hades did not answer, looking far too embarrassed to speak, and so Zeus shook his head.

“We will have to try again later, or else he will wear himself out.” Zeus gently placed Hades down on the bedding inside the cave, covering him once more with the bear skin. “In the meantime, do we have any oils left?”

Poseidon nodded. “I managed to find some amongst the wreckage. It should be near my water satchel.”

“What will you do?” Hades asked warily as he observed his youngest sibling.

“If we apply some salve, perhaps your attempts to evacuate will come with less effort,” Zeus replied. “And far less pain, I would hope.”

Half of the bear’s flesh had been preserved and oil had been applied to Hades’ injured flesh when a familiar galloping came ever louder, only this time accompanied by a muffled clang of metal. Chiron was slowing his gait to a walk as Zeus and Poseidon greeted him.

“Any luck?” Zeus asked, though the look on the centaur’s face told him otherwise.

“Most of the weaponry and armor was destroyed beyond repairing,” Chiron replied with a heavy heart as he strode towards the cave. “I was able to find a few things, but do not worry. When I convene with the giants, they can help provide us with a little more.”

The centaur leaned his god half down so that he could peer into the cave and see Hades curled up next to the fire. “How is our brother?” he asked with a smile. “Feeling any better, Hades?”

Hades was unsure of how to answer. Thanks to his wounds, the day had not started off well at all. “Did you find my helm?” he finally asked.

At once Chiron looked rueful again. “I did find it,” he said, reaching into a satchel slung over his horse back. “But I’m afraid it is broken.”

Hades had anticipated such an answer, and he merely nodded, accepting that his gift had been damaged beyond repair. “May I see it?” he asked, wanting to touch the smooth leather and beautifully crafted metal once more, even though the helm was no longer any use.

Chiron hesitated, recalling that the entire collapsed right side of the helmet held the imprint of a huge titan foot, which was likely to remind Hades of the foul brutes that had violated him.

“Perhaps it’s best if you don’t,” he finally said.

“No,” the wounded god insisted. “I want to see it. It’s mine. Give it to me.”

“Give it to him, Chiron,” Zeus interjected. “The helm is important to him. Let him touch it.”

Chiron gave in, taking the broken pieces of the helm out of the satchel and presenting them to the eldest god. Indeed the sad remains of his beautiful gift tempted Hades into weeping. The helm had split in three parts, one of which was caved in and imprinted with the large, heavy sole of a titan’s sandal.

“I am sorry, Hades,” Chiron said sympathetically. “I could take it back to its makers and have them try to repair it, but I fear it may be a lost cause.”

“If you wish it,” Hades simply said, his voice very low, and he turned over, wincing as he did. He kept his back to his family so as not to show his face. He cried enough already in their presence and did not wish to make himself look like a weakling once again.

“Do you think the Cyclopes could truly fix his helm?” Zeus asked Chiron as they left Poseidon to look after Hades for a few moments.

“I do not know,” the centaur confessed. “If they can, I am sure Hades will appreciate it. His one gift from the giants and those monsters break it.” The half-god’s tail flicked irritably at a buzzing fly.

“The irony of it,” Zeus remarked. “Is that Hades will have no use for it now, even if it was fully mended. Perhaps you should ask the Cyclopes to make it a little larger so that I may use it.”

A strange chuffing noise came from the back of Chiron’s throat, and it sounded very close to the grunt of an annoyed horse. Lifting an eyebrow, the half-god backed away and stared down the hill into the woods.

“We are well hidden up here,” he stated, changing the subject, “but we could still be found if our foes are clever enough to look. Hades still will not be completely safe in the cave by himself when we are in battle.”

“Indeed…” Zeus replied, deep in thought. He detested the idea of the titans discovering their location a second time, and he feared what might happen to Hades if such a thing occurred.

Well aware that both he himself and Poseidon were needed in the battle against their father, the thought of leaving Hades all by himself made Zeus almost physically sick. He had made the mistake once already; all would be damned if he would make it a second time.

“We cannot simply leave him,” the Olympian leader said. “I know that taking him with us is out of the question, but—”

“How about finding him a guard?” Chiron suggested. “Someone we can trust with our brother’s safety. Someone loyal, who would protect Hades with his own life while we are away.”

Zeus raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced. “Who are you referring to?” he asked.

“I do not know yet. But when I meet up with the giants, I will ask around.”

“Why should I trust the life of my brother and mate with a complete stranger?” Zeus asked.

Another snort left the centaur’s mouth. “Why indeed, Zeus? Why would you trust these strangers to fight alongside you on the battlefield? I am positive that the task of watching over your wounded brother is much less daunting than facing Cronos’ army in open battle.”

Zeus resisted the impulse to strike his half-brother, but only because he found himself unable to come up with a good counter argument. “Fine, see what you can do,” he grunted. “But whomever you choose for this task will need my approval before I let him within fifty feet of my mate. Do you understand?”

Chiron’s ear twitched at the protectiveness – the possessiveness – of his half-brother, but said nothing of the matter. He simply nodded and his front legs bent so that he could enact his own form of a respectful bow.

“It shall be done.”

And within minutes the centaur was off again, galloping now in a different direction and heading for the location of the giants. Zeus wondered how on earth Chiron could have so much energy to be running back and forth without collapsing of exhaustion. The youngest god considered how disappointing it would be that one of his allies had drained himself to the point of being unable to fight.

“Zeus?”

Turning at the sound of Poseidon’s voice, Zeus returned to the mouth of the cave, regarding his brothers.

“Hades is ready to try again.”

“Is he now?” Zeus replied with a smile, kneeling at his eldest brother’s side. “Is the salve working?”

“I think so,” Hades replied. “It should be. I very much would like to try again.”

“Being ready to try again is not the same as the readiness of your body,” Zeus reminded him. “In the meantime, would you please do me a favor and eat something? It does not have to be much. Please, brother?”

Hesitating, Hades finally nodded. While Poseidon walked away to prepare a small meal of bear flesh for the eldest god, Zeus remained. He stroked his unfortunate brother’s hair as a gesture of comfort. Poor Hades, despite the treatment of his wounds, still looked terrible. His body and face were still dirty from being forced onto the ground, and a tiny layer of sweat from panic and strain could be smelled from his broken form.

Still, this was not by far the most disturbing thing about Hades’ state. Aside from all the other unpleasant odors oozing from his brother, Zeus could smell the faint but nonetheless present reek of the titans who had done this to Hades. Atlas’ scent was the most prominent, and Zeus could not help gritting his teeth at the thought of the foul monster that had soiled his mate. Perhaps Hades would never be free of the nauseating smell? Perhaps he was, to Zeus’ great horror, defiled for all eternity.

Forcing the thoughts of such out of his head, Zeus instead focused on trying to feed his unfortunate brother. The bear meat was tough, and Hades’ facial wounds prevented him from using his teeth in the required fashion, thus making the meal a difficult ordeal.

Zeus exchanged worried glances with Poseidon, who discreetly shook his head.

“It’s too hard for him, Zeus. Perhaps if we could make something that does not require chewing…”

“Make some broth for him,” Zeus ordered before remembering that all their cooking equipment had likely been destroyed. “Use your helmet as a bowl, if you cannot find anything else. But make something he can swallow and digest with ease.”

Food, even liquid such, was truly the last thing Hades craved. He had, contrary to his youngest brother’s beliefs, noticed the brief yet unmistakable look of disgust on Zeus’ face. It made him want to cry, and yet he knew he should have expected it to happen.

“I feel so filthy…” he quietly said, weakly pushing his unfinished meal aside. “I can see how you both recoil from my stink.”

“If there is a stench or filth about you,” Poseidon said when Zeus did not answer, “it is not your doing. All you need is a bath, nothing more.”

“Yes,” Zeus added, finding his voice again, though it was a mere mutter, “that is a wonderful idea.”

“Will a bath help you to feel better, my brother?” Poseidon gently asked Hades. Hades thought about the offer and just when his brothers feared he would decline, he finally nodded.

“I would greatly appreciate a chance to wash this horrible smell from my skin. Perhaps I would no longer feel as though they might return at any moment…”

Zeus stayed silent. It would seem that his fears and those of his brother were one and the same, but he did not wish Hades to know such.

“Maybe afterwards we could attempt that broth,” Poseidon offered. “It will be easier on your body than the meat.”

Hades wanted to point out that he still had the contents of his bowels to worry about, no matter what he would be consuming in the near future, but he only nodded again.

“I shall make the broth,” Zeus stated to Poseidon. “While you attempt to bathe our brother, I will be preparing his meal.”

“What?” both of his fellow gods inquired, not sure they had heard their leader properly.

“Can you not bathe me?” Hades said, confusing making his now timid voice waver. Zeus did not look at him, which made the eldest god feel worse.

“The broth will be easy to make,” Zeus replied, “but we are not in a position to carry you to and fro between here and the river. The closest source we have is a little stream, but water is Poseidon’s greatest skill. He can help you far more easily than I can.”

Hades nodded, although he was dangerously close to weeping again. Zeus was obviously so disgusted with him that he did not even want to touch him anymore, not even to help cleanse him. The rejection caused a pain in his soul, so great that even the violation itself paled in comparison.

Hades lay on the soft bear skin, on his side with his aching legs pressed tightly together and drawn up against his chest, everything to hide the brands which now marred his flesh. Sometime later, when Zeus had already started preparing the broth made out of the bear meat, Poseidon approached the eldest god and asked if he was ready.

Hades nodded once, refusing to meet his sibling’s gaze. He was afraid of what he might find there.

Zeus quietly observed as Hades was lifted into Poseidon’s arms and gave a watery, sobbing little gasp. His protective instincts made him want to shout at the other to be more careful, but he suppressed it, knowing that Hades would be in pain no matter how gently he was handled. Now Zeus could only hope that the bath his brother was about to receive would erase not only the offending stink from his skin, but also the thoughts and feelings of doubt plaguing the Olympian leader’s mind.

The stream was thankfully not far away, and as Zeus observed, he could easily prepare the broth while his brothers remained in sight. Though he felt uncomfortable handling the wretched elder god and seeing the scars which had marred the once flawless body, jealousy still stirred as Poseidon began to strip Hades nude. He was grateful that at least Poseidon had thought to remain clothed.

Zeus’ brow wrinkled as he frowned at his own thoughts. He should have been to one to bathe his mate, but the jealousy seemed to sting harder whenever he saw or thought of the brands on Hades’ legs. What if – matter how many times their brother was bathed, he would never be truly cleaned? What if every time they attempted to make love, the smell of Atlas and his brethren still lingered?

Had he not been preparing food for his mate, Zeus would have tossed Poseidon’s helm into the woods and not cared if it could not be found again.

Hades shivered even in his blankets back in the cave, so Poseidon decided that now was the time to try a little experiment. As he summoned water from the stream to create a little gully deep enough to provide a bath, the god concentrated, fingers spread as his hand stayed submerged in the water. Holding Hades close to him with his free arm, he smiled when he felt the change, and that smile widened when he knew from the look on his brother’s face that Hades too felt it.

“The water is warm,” Hades said in faint surprise.

Poseidon managed a small smile as he slowly allowed his brother to submerge himself. “Yes, for you, brother,” he said. “So you won’t be cold.”

“Thank you…” Hades whispered, and he finally let his body relax just a little, soothed by the other god’s presence even though he felt shy before Poseidon. He was positive that Poseidon would not let him drown no matter what happened, and he made a cautious attempt to stand up in the spring, aided by the pressure of the water, which came up to his chest.

Poseidon kept his arms ready to catch Hades in case his legs wavered, but he had to let his brother try. Once reassured that the other would not immediately collapse, he produced a small cloth, wetting it and offering it to Hades.

“Let me know if you wish me to help,” the younger god said, prepared to turn his back in case Hades requested it.

Hades made no such request, he just silently accepted the cloth and started to scrub his bruised, delicate skin. It hurt, but being soaked in the pleasantly hot water also brought him a feeling of relief; perhaps after this bath, he would no longer be able to smell Atlas on his skin.

“Shall I help with your hair?” Poseidon inquired, thinking that the filthy, tangled mess that his brother’s dark mane had become would be impossible to sort out by oneself.

“Yes, I would appreciate that,” Hades replied, wondering if Zeus was watching them from the cave’s mouth. He felt his brother pour large handfuls of water over his head and gently card through the black tresses, trying to wash out as much of the soil, caked blood and grease as possible. The possibility that his hair might be beyond saving, that he would be forced to cut it entered his mind, and tears sprang forth in his eyes.

The pouring of the water over his head and face hid his tears, but his expression read of absolute sorrow nonetheless and Poseidon grew concerned.

“Are you in pain?” he asked.

Hades shook his head and stared at the surface of the water, avoiding his brother’s gaze.

“Please speak with me…?” Poseidon begged, not about to let Hades remain silent.

Hades’ hair, still tangled and somewhat messy, fell forward, obscuring his face. The god felt more at ease behind that thin curtain of ebony locks. He felt as though he could not been seen, not fully.

“Do you think I will still be beautiful?”

Poseidon nearly asked for clarification, placing a hand against his brother’s pale, bruised shoulder. “Yes of course,” he said instead.

“Zeus found me beautiful,” Hades explained. “And now… now I’m this broken… pathetic wretch. I’ve seen the way he looks at me.”

“Hades…”

“I do not think he will find me beautiful anymore. He will not love me like he did only a few days ago.”

“Of course he will,” Poseidon said, his tone of voice just stern enough to show he meant what he said, and that Hades must listen to him. “Remember when… after the birth…”

Hades, face still hidden, bent his head lower. Poseidon could see the wrinkling of a forehead that signaled powerful grief. The younger god did not wish to upset his brother any further, but he wanted to make a point.

“Zeus stayed away then, but only because he too was upset. He will come back in his own time.”

But I need him now, Hades wanted to say. Now when my pain is the greatest.

Poseidon did not speak more on the subject and instead focused on untangling his brother’s hair. After another few minutes Hades’ locks were starting to regain a partial semblance to their usual appearance, and Poseidon was pleased. Once his hair had dried, at least it would no longer smell of dried blood and earth… or titans’ bodily fluids.

While the water had washed away the unpleasant odors from his skin, Hades was painfully aware of the one place of his body he could not scrub clean with a cloth. Atlas had entered his insides and filled them with his vile seed, which was still within him, no doubt festering in his bowels like pus. Hades thought he could feel his inner walls physically burning as the thought occurred to him.

He had to get it out of him. He had to, or he would never be clean, never be worthy of Zeus’ touch.

Reaching in between his legs, Hades began to scrub at his orifice, breaking the delicate crusts of healing skin, not caring about his wounds, only thinking – obsessing – about washing Atlas’ seed out of his body.

The action did not go unnoticed by Poseidon, who could easily ascertain what his brother was doing. Even if he could not see it, the noises of discomfort and pain would have been clear enough clues.

“Hades,” he said, stepping forward to slow his eldest brother’s actions. “You will rub yourself raw if you keep going.”

“No,” the other god said defiantly between grunts of pain, jerking away from his younger brother’s reaching hands. “I’m not finished.”

“Brother, stop,” Poseidon said a little more sternly. “I know why you feel you must do this, but please, be a little more gentle. You’ll only hurt yourself further.”

Utter hopelessness marked Hades’ features as he felt the pain radiate anew from his backside. Frustrated, he hunched over, his head low, and he would have sunk beneath the water’s surface from his despair had Poseidon not wrapped arms around him and held him close.

“Do you want me to try to help?” the younger Olympian whispered.

“What could you do?” Hades asked, his voice flat and unfeeling.

Poseidon did not answer, and Hades considered repeating his question when something strange happened. He felt water moving upwards, inside him. He squirmed at first, the sensation so surprising and unusual, but Poseidon whispered to him to relax.

“What are you…?” Hades asked in a trembling voice and instinctively clenched his muscles, causing another stab of pain from his abused orifice. The water now moving up his bowels was warm, but still considerably cooler than the insides of his body.

“I’m doing what you could not,” Poseidon explained, still holding Hades close to him. “You wanted to wash your insides, and this is the only way to do it.”

Hades nodded, grateful for his brother’s willingness to help. He wondered whether or not he should mention the cleansing of his bowels to Zeus. On one hand, the Olympian leader might be pleased to know that his mate had been cleaned from the inside out, but Zeus was a jealous and possessive individual and might very well take offense at the prospect of Poseidon helping Hades with something so intimate.

Hades noticed the rapid expansion of his belly underneath the water’s surface, and for a moment he was struck by how similar it looked to the early months of his pregnancy. However, he was spared any further contemplation on the subject by powerful cramping in his bloated abdomen and an extremely urgent need to evacuate.

Tugging on Poseidon’s wet sleeve, Hades barely managed to form a coherent explanation for his sudden discomfort. Unless his brother quickly got him out of the spring, he would be forced to empty his bowels into his own bath water.

“I… I need to… go…” he rasped out. “Go… now…!”

Poseidon was confused at what his brother was trying to communicate, but quickly caught on and wrapped his arms around the older god, ready to lift him. “Can you hold on until I get you on the ground?” he asked.

“I think so,” Hades quickly replied. “Just hurry!”

Zeus had scarcely turned his back when he heard frenzied splashing. Looking up, he raised his brow at the sight of Poseidon carrying their moaning brother in haste out of the improvised pool and behind a bush. Puzzled, he rose from his work and approached his fellow gods.

“What’s the matter?” he asked as he looked around the vegetation. He received his answer before he had scarcely finished his question, hearing the wet impact on the ground as Hades finally managed to void his bowels.

Smiling, Zeus immediately knelt at his mate’s side and placed an arm around skinny shoulders. So aggressive was his movement to push into the moment that Poseidon simply moved away, letting the youngest god take the lead and hold Hades steady.

“Are you alright, dearest?” Zeus asked.

“Yes,” Hades replied, his voice shaking slightly from his experience. It was relief to finally empty his bowels, but it had not been the most comfortable experience in the world.

“He’s finally managed to evacuate,” Poseidon informed Zeus, who otherwise paid him no attention.

“It looks as though the oil worked after all,” Zeus said with a grin.

Hades, not wishing to get Poseidon into trouble, innocently nodded, and hoped he would not have to face another occasion where he would be suggested the use of oil in such a way again.

TBC
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The Immortal Heart