~oOo0oOo0oOo~

“And what does the great Prince Kyungsoo want with lowly old me?”

Kyungsoo was straining so hard to keep his face impassive that he could almost feel his eyes watering. It had been three days and three nights of travel since he had met Demeter, three days and three nights of wandering along earthen roads devoid of travelers. He had stopped only to eat quickly and rest, though what rest he had was inadequate, as his sleep was fitful. He was never able to stay still for long, wanting only reach his destination—and now, at long last, he had.

It was only moments ago that he had entered the temple, breathing a sigh of relief at the sight of the beautiful building’s pristine white walls. He had taken in the sight of elegant columns, of the polished floor, before his gaze was captured by the magnificent throne that occupied the center of the temple, surrounded by intricate golden structures that held crackling fire. On top of the throne lounged an ethereal figure clad in shimmering rose, a gilded girdle roped around the waist and a silver shell-shaped mirror balanced easily on a graceful palm.

Upon catching sight of the god, Kyungsoo had immediately dropped to his knees, ready to swallow his pride and beg, but the god had beaten him to the punch. Luhan was staring down at him as if Kyungsoo were something despicable that had crawled out of a swamp, his pretty face curled into a sneer. Kyungsoo breathed in deeply. He had traveled all this way to reason with the god before him; he would not ruin all his hard work now with a slip of temper.

Luhan, it seemed, was intent on making such a goal impossible for Kyungsoo, for his lips twisted into an ironic smirk. “Have you finally realized your place, my dear prince?” He stood up, tall and stately, and began to descend the stairs of his throne. Peeking through his bangs, Kyungsoo could see the way the god’s eyes glinted, as if he were drinking in the sight of the mortal boy whose forehead was pressed to the ground. “At long last you have realized where you belong.” The prince’s ears burned, but he bit his lip and said nothing as Luhan came to a stop before him.

“This is where you belong.” The god’s voice was soft, but Kyungsoo could hear how it was overflowing with relish. “At my feet.”

The young prince knew the god was goading him, hoping that he would lose his temper and thus give him an excuse to smite him to oblivion. But despite reason, he could feel the anger and disgrace vibrating in his chest, threatening to burst out at any moment. It was humiliating, it was infuriating, that he would have to bite his tongue and let this waspish, childish god do and say what he pleased. As a prince, Kyungsoo was used to being treated with deference, and had in turn regarded those around him with respect. But he felt no such respect for the god before him, only blazing dislike and disgust. Luhan seemed to sense his internal struggle, as he only smiled smugly before sweeping back up to his throne, settling languidly on the cushion before raising an insolent eyebrow.

“Yes,” he drawled, flicking back a strand of immaculate blonde hair. “I suppose I shouldn’t blame you for everything. It was partially my fault for letting this go along for so long. I should have stopped those foolish mortals early on, they must have led you to think you are more important than you really were. Oh, and Jongin too, I suppose. I told him that you weren’t as great as those foolish mortals said, but he just couldn’t resist taking a look. I always told him he deserved much more—and now I suppose he does too.”

Luhan smiled dazzlingly down at the prince’s frozen form, pleased by the way the boy stiffened at his needling. His countenance radiant, he continued nonchalantly, “I must say I’m surprised to see you here, my dear prince. I thought you didn’t deal with such lowly people as myself. Now, what is it that you want?”

“I would like to see Jongin,” the boy said softly, his face still pressed to the ground.

“See Jongin? Tsk, tsk.” Luhan clicked his tongue. “What a faithful husband you are. At long last have you come to seek the husband whose heart and body you wounded? I can’t help but wonder what caused the delay… Though I won’t blame you, your suitors are quite a good-looking bunch, it would be easy for a faithless little thing like you to get side-tracked…”

At his words the boy’s head shot up, and Luhan almost cackled at the look of fury in his eyes. “My heart is my lord Jongin’s and his alone,” the prince said slowly, practically grinding his teeth in his quest to reel in his temper. The god had to grudgingly admit the boy was doing an impressive job at keeping his cool, though he was hungrier than ever for the distinguishing of the light of determination in the boy’s wide eyes. “Not once has it strayed, nor will it ever.”

Once again, Luhan raised his eyebrow, the perfect picture of disbelief. He rested his chin on one palm, tapping his temple lightly with one finger. “Very well. I’ll give you a chance to prove your loyalty to my poor bereaved friend.  Though I would hardly think an arrogant, insolent brat like you would make a suitable husband for anyone, you can merit worthiness through hard labor. In my storehouse of this temple you’ll find seeds of many kinds. Sort them out properly, and see that you are finished be sundown.”

The thought of the little prince doing the menial labor of common farmers pleased the god, and it was with a satisfied smile that he disappeared in a shower of rose petals. Kyungsoo watched his departure silently, letting his face fall into stony anger the moment the god was gone from his sight. Without a word he rose and set out to find the storehouse in question, his head throbbing with all the angry words he would have yelled at the god’s self-satisfied face had the threat of retribution to both him and his loved ones not hung above his head like a guillotine.

~oOo0oOo0oOo~

The temple’s storehouse turned out to be an even greater mess than Demeter’s abandoned temple had been, and it was with iron will that Kyungsoo did not immediately scream in frustration at the sight of the seeds strewn like a carpet across the ground. There were lentils, barley, wheat, and large beans as well as numerous wicker baskets scattered across the floor. His temple throbbed as he got on his knees, scooping up a handful of the mixture and inspecting the contents. This was an impossible task, he was sure of it, there was no humanly possible way that he would be able to sort out this disarray by hand before sundown. Perhaps he should cut his losses now and give up and return home, and simply pine away for the rest of his life.

With a groan, Kyungsoo threw  his handful of grains into the nearest wicker basket, dropping his face into his hands with a whimper. He was so ing tired, both physically and mentally. It felt like there was a weight on his back and strapped to both his eyes, compelling him to shut them. He felt older than he had ever felt before, and his heart and head hurt from both overtaxation and longing for home. The beckoning fingers of darkness were crooning to him, promising him solace. If he would just let go, just succumb to his tiredness, it would all be better—no more impossible tasks, no more bone-deep weariness, no more blame and suffering.

But no. He knew he would never forgive himself if he gave up now.  He had come too far to let go so soon—he would fight until he dropped, until his body was unable to sustain him any longer. For both his sake and Jongin’s, he had to fight.

He would fight.

Blinking the fatigue from his eyes, the little prince stood up, steeling himself for the hopeless task that awaited him. A new fire in his limbs and a new clarity in his eyes, Kyungsoo reached for his previously discarded basket, lifting it into the air. As he did so, he heard the smattering of small objects against the ground, and looked to see a deluge of seeds falling from his basket. Looking in, he saw that all that remained of the mixture were the large beans, which had been too large to fit through the criss-cross openings formed from weaving.

Possessed with new energy, Kyungsoo threw himself across the room to the array of baskets that waited, inspecting the bottom of each. Yes, yes, yes!—He was exalted to see that each of the baskets had weaves of different sizes, with openings ranging from big to small. Soon he had surrounded himself with an assortment of carefully selected baskets. A new flame of hope kindled deep in his chest, Kyungsoo set to work. The impossible task didn’t seem so impossible now.

~oOo0oOo0oOo~

Luhan returned to the temple of twilight, a wreath of lush red roses crowning his marigold head and the sweet scent of wine clinging to his skin. The banquet had been wonderful, and the thought of what awaited him even more so, and it was with a spring to his step that he sauntered into the dimming halls of his temple.

He found the boy curled up against a pillar, his dark hair disheveled and his face smudged with dirt. Instinctively, the god felt a pang of pity—the little prince looked like a child, he was a child—but it was easily swept aside. Irritated by the flash of unwanted sympathy he had felt for the boy, Luhan aimed a sharp kick at Kyungsoo’s sleeping form to vent his feelings, slightly mollified when he heard a soft gasp of pain.

“Given up already?” he sneered, peering down his nose. The boy blinked owlishly before once again bowing prostrate.

“No, my lord.”

“Then why are you loafing around?”

“I have finished the task you set me, my lord,” the boy said quietly, and it was with a derisive laugh that Luhan turned and made way for the storehouse, the sound of the boy’s stumbling footsteps pitter-pattering close behind.

“I don’t believe you,” the blonde scoffed, and he really didn’t; the idea of anyone human successfully sorting out that mess was simply preposterous. But when he turned the corner and entered the storeroom he saw that the boy hadn’t been lying, as he had believed. Along the walls of the storeroom were several baskets, each filled snugly to the brim with different kinds of seed, the unused baskets piled in a neat tower near the doorway. The boy evidently hadn’t stopped as his task, as the storeroom was in a much better shape than it had been in before, mess of grain or not. The floor had been swept and the windowsills dusted, and all the utensils had been cleaned and placed in their proper place. Grinding his teeth, Luhan plunged his hands into one of the bins, determined to find a fault. The handful of grain he withdrew was nothing but barley, and unable to criticize he tossed the mound back in.

“I noticed the wicker baskets each had different sized openings, and I used them to filter out the different kinds of seeds,” Kyungsoo supplied softly, though Luhan hadn’t asked for his input. The boy’s face was blank, though there was a sort of pride and smugness that the god couldn’t find anything to complain about shining in his eyes.

“There’s no way you did this,” Luhan snarled, unwilling to let the boy win this round. Frowning, Kyungsoo tilted his head in confusion.

“But I—“

“There’s no way you did this yourself. Someone must have helped you—“

“No one helped me—“

“Silence!” Luhan roared. At the sight of utter rage contorting the god’s face, Kyungsoo immediately closed his mouth, both afraid and defiant. The god was breathing heavily, his eyes wild as they focused on Kyungsoo with a feeling of murderous intent.

“Someone must have helped you,” the god repeated, a hint of warning in his voice, indicating that the boy was not to argue. Resentment bubbling in his gut, Kyungsoo stared stonily back, not bothering to conceal the bitterness in his gaze. “Since I am merciful, I will give you one more chance—one more—to prove yourself.”

With that, he stalked out of the room, throwing a burnt piece of bread down at the floor. Growling to himself, Kyungsoo took it, turning the unfortunate thing over in his hand. It was no more than a hard crust, really, burnt black, and it tasted like ashes as the human quickly wolfed it down. Exhausted, starving, and utterly disquieted, the boy curled up against the ground, succumbing at last to his fatigue.

~oOo0oOo0oOo~

The next morning Kyungsoo was not waken by Helios’ welcoming rays or by the cheerful twittering of birds, but rather by another unceremonious kick to his ribs. He opened his eyes to see the god of beauty glaring down at him, his arms crossed over his chest.

“I have another task for you,” was all that was said before he was striding out the storeroom’s entrance. Quickly, Kyungsoo ran to keep up, following the shimmering trail of silken fabric.

He was led to a picturesque riverside, a flowing stream of clear water flowing between two lush green banks. Nearby, he saw a grove of stately trees and near that a stretch of grass and bushes dotted with gold. As they approached, he saw they were not mounds of gold as he had originally thought, but rather sheep with fleece of gold, pacing up and down the land. They rubbed against each other and the bushes, leaving many of the thorny bushes just as much covered in gold as they.

Luhan came to a stop while they were still some ways away, among a ring of boulders that would easily conceal their presence. He turned to Kyungsoo with a deliberately innocent smile, nodding his heads towards the magnificent beasts that rumbled and moved.

“I want you to get me some of that precious wool. Try to keep all your limbs attached.” With that cryptic message and a smile that said he would want nothing more than for the very situation he told the prince to avoid to happen, he disappeared.

Frowning to himself, Kyungsoo struggled to climb up one of the boulders, settling himself somewhat steadily on the smooth rock. This task seemed much easier than the first—too easy, in fact. The young prince couldn’t help but feel suspicious, gazing contemplating at the herd of golden animals. He was almost certain that there was something he hadn’t been told, but what exactly it was, he wasn’t sure.

His question was soon answered by two of the sheep. Two particularly large, belligerent rams took to aggravating each other, bumping heads and moving roughly. To the wide-eyed boy’s utter surprise, the two backed several paces from each other and appeared to prepare for a clashing run—and while they did so their mouths were drawn into surprisingly wolf-like snarls, revealing glinting rows of razor-sharp teeth. A new sense of apprehension and fear instilled, Kyungsoo could only watch with widened eyes as the two rams hurtled at each other, culminating in a gigantic crash.

He watched the two rams totter away from each other numbly, his mind seized with worry. How was he supposed to get the wool without being torn to shreds? It was impossible, utterly impossible to do so.

Frustrated, he rubbed at his eyes, sure that they were puffy and red-rimmed. Oh, if only these sheep were like the ones back home. He remembered tending to the royal flocks before with the shepherd. The sheep had been such sweet, wonderful company, always willing to let him sink into their mass of wool. There had been a particular lamb that he had been very fond of, an adorable little mass of energy and playfulness that had frolicked around him while the rest of the flock took their noon-time naps in the shade—

Ahh.

And then it struck him. Perhaps these strange, golden and sharp-teethed sheep were the same as the sheep back home in that aspect. It was true, he could not get close to them now without fear of bodily harm. But if these sheep, strange and otherworldly as they were, performed the same practices and slept when the day was hottest, then perhaps he would be able to sneak over and retrieve some golden wool without harm…

Glancing up, Kyungsoo noted that it would be a few hours before noon came. Of course, he had no way to be sure this plan would work, but this plan was better than simply sitting there wallowing in frustration. Besides, it wasn’t like he had anything better to do than wait…

~oOo0oOo0oOo~

Luhan’s eyes twitched as he beheld the sight before. True to his word, somehow that stupid human prince brought back mounds of golden wool from those carnivorous sheep. Gnashing his teeth together, the god regretfully noted it seemed the sheep hadn’t managed to take a chunk out of boy as he had hoped; the only marks the boy seemed to have on him were little pricks and scratches on his hands and legs. The wool lay a glittering mass at his feet, each strand catching and reflecting the afternoon sun. He could feel the boy’s gaze on him, coolly watching as his face twisted and contorted, almost as if the boy were mocking him.

Once again, though Luhan knew very well that the boy had completed the task on his own (he had waited until the sheep moved to the grove to hide from the midday sun, then wandered among the bushes to pull the snagged wool off and collect it), he chose to brush that aside. He would defeat the boy, he would show that insolent, infuriating child his place at his feet, damn him and his clear wide eyes and silence! If the boy had cried, or begged, or showed any kind of apparent weakness perhaps Luhan would have been appeased. But no, no, the boy had once again outsmarted him, had once again succeeded when he should have failed. And yet Prince Kyungsoo still stood before him silently, still breathtakingly beautiful despite the wounds that scarred his formerly flawless skin, the dark shadows that manifested beneath his eyes, and the utter unkemptness of his person, still strong and determined despite all Luhan had thrown at him.

Now more than ever Luhan wanted to break him, to see him defeated and his spirit crushed. How he wanted to gauge those blank eyes out, how he wanted to make that beautiful face run with tears. With this end in mind he made his last task.

Holding the prince’s blank gaze, he waved his hand, creating from empty space a beautiful box wrought of precious metals and gems, and held it out. 

“For your last task, take this box to the Underworld, to the god of spring who resides there. Take it, and tell Zitao ‘My master Luhan wishes you to share a little of your beauty, as he has lost some of his in caring for his ailing friend and dealing with problems of the mortal world’. And I would not advise you to dawdle—there will soon be an Olympian banquet, and I must make myself presentable.”

As he uttered those words, he felt a gleam of satisfaction as Kyungsoo’s impassive mask broke, a hint of fear flashing across the boy’s hardened face. He knew that the boy knew of only one way to enter the Underworld: Death. He waited, to see if the boy would refuse, if the boy would back down and run away, tail between his legs. Kyungsoo’s face was a storm of emotion, of fear and frustration and anger and longing, and at long last he slowly reached forward and took the box in his own small hands.

Luhan smiled.

The little prince had chosen Death. 

~oOo0oOo0oOo~

A/N: In light of the U.S.'s Supreme Court decision to legalize gay marriage, I literally forced myself to write this chapter today after several months (I think?) of writer's block because I'm just so ing happy. ٩(●˙▿˙●)۶

That aside, I'm going to have to apologize once again fro how long it took for me to finally update again OTL And apologize once more because there is no Kaisoo interaction in this mess of a chapter either >__< I hope you all can forgive me...

I'm also going to have to apologize because I really do love Luhan very much, and yet my protrayal of him in this story is...a ing who has serious issues. I know I don't have to do this, as many of you already know that this is a fictional protrayal and no way how the real Luhan is, but I still feel I ought to apologize, especially to those who bias Luhan. TT^TT I'm sorry.... 

Thank you all for sticking around for so long, and please comment and let me know what you think! ^^ 

(I will come back and edit this garbage later lololol please be patient with all the typos and mistakes for now? :3)