Pluto was a god, but even gods can be subject to extreme dullness.

It was rather unfortunate, that he could hold such awesome, insurmountable power and yet still have to spend the majority of his time reading through paperwork or dealing with ignorant civilians who couldn't seem to run their lives themselves.

Dead civilians, mind you, so he supposed they had some excuse. But even still, running the underworld was a lot more boring when you had to deal with some farmer complaining that he should have gone to Elysium because he saved that one guy like, ten years ago from some minor illness.

Today's appointments, however, were proving themselves to be a bit more exciting.

Pluto's hair stood slightly on edge and his wife, Proserpina, grabbed hold of her scythe-staff to her right.

As Pluto rose from his throne he gripped his staff, double pronged, and Proserpina hissed, "Jupiter."

As if she had invoked his presence by speaking his name, the smell of electricity filled the air and a crackle heaved its way through his skin. Before him stood his younger brother, Jupiter, god of the sky and storm and king of the Olympian council.

"Brother," Pluto greeted, Proserpina scowled and made no move to relax the grip on her staff.

"the correct title is 'my king'," Jupiter grumbled, jaw clenched. Oh, he was angry, brilliant, because Pluto's day hadn't been long enough.

"you are in the underworld, little brother, this is my kingdom. And last I checked I am not a member of your dominion regardless."

"and even if we were," Proserpina stated, chin raised and voice even, with a lilt of very clear insult hidden by flowery practice, "a title of such respect and splendour does not deserve to be contaminated by your existence."

"Pluto you may wish to control your wife before I take drastic measures." Jupiter sneered.

Pluto looked to Proserpina pleadingly. If he was to make it out of this conversation sane it would be best that the two not start a brawl in the throne room.

Proserpina rolled her eyes and let go of her staff, letting a few rose plants crawl their way up it to hold it in place. She snapped her head back at Jupiter with a final glare as the thorns grew to an enormous size.

"what can I do for you?" Pluto asked, trying to hold back the dripping sarcasm from his voice.

"you can explain to me why I only just came across the existence of a living champion of the underworld." Jupiter all but snarled through just barely unclenched teeth.

"there is no champion of the underworld," Pluto stated smoothly, "only one of mine. These are not one in the same."

There was an audible sizzle in the room as Jupiter's hands started sparking.

"you have hidden a champion, one you have granted power almost to the level of a demigod, and you have not allowed him to be tried as any champion or demigod should."

"I have my reasons," Pluto sighed, "I will do with my power as I will, you have no right to stand between myself and my own ability to govern and lead my domain. You have no right to come here and-"

"I am the king of Olympus!"

"AND WE ARE RULERS OF THE UNDERWORLD!" Proserpina stood from her throne, holding her staff once again, a snarl seconds away from arriving on her face, "you are in our domain, Gigolo, and you are sorely outnumbered. You best run back along to your melting-pot, wheeler-dealer, glorified brothel before we have you hung, strung and quartered and throw your entrails into the Styx like you did to Saturn into his sealed tomb!"

Proserpina seemed to have become taller, the marbling of the floor roiled under her feet, and her eyes turned blacker than Pluto's shadowed tunic.

If he was being completely honest Pluto wanted to sneak off into a hallway with his wife like a teenager.

Jupiter had some barebones intelligence, apparently, because he shrunk under Proserpina's glare, the crackle of his lightning seemed to be smothered by the whispers of the damned.

Jupiter took a deep breath, just barely hiding the shakiness, and neatened his tunic. "he will not be untried, this new champion of yours."

"I'm sure," Proserpina said smoothly, and regardless of her calm demeanour her voice held the power of rocks shredding against each other in an avalanche.

And then Jupiter disappeared in another flash of lightning, the smell of his energy zinging through the air with finality. The line had been drawn.

Pluto released a breath and collapsed onto his chair, he was beyond tired and he still had more visitors to deal with.

"so," Proserpina began evenly, "a champion?"

With a groan Pluto sunk deep into his throne.

The morning after the fourth and fifth legion's celebrations was full of overlooked malpractice and superiors looking the other way.

Hiccup woke with a pounding headache, oncoming nausea and the insatiable need to down something hot, bitter and spiced. All things considered, he doubted anyone else was in better condition.

It took a moment for him to recognise his new surroundings. He was no longer in the barracks with his fellow soldiers, instead in a smaller room of his own. Legionnaire's quarters. He'd moved in already before the drinking started, but even still it was strange not having to climb down from a top bunk.

Once he stepped out of his room he saw Verlin leaning against the railing of the patio that linked all the legionnaire's rooms laughing with a fellow legionnaire, Gaius, a bottle in hand.

"hey mate," Verlin grinned, saluting with a wave of the bottle, "hailed be the blessed."

"whatever you say," Hiccup chuckled, gently stealing the bottle and placing it on the railing before hoisting Verlin up from under the shoulders, "let's get you to the mess hall."

"been," Verlin snickered, "chef reckoned I'm 'unruly', came back for a chat with the fellows."

"well then, to the praetorium it is," Hiccup sighed, giving Gaius a teasing glare.

"I tried stopping him," he chuckled, hands up in surrender.

"oh you did so well," Hiccup said drily, "can you give me a hand getting him to Lia and Char, they know how to sober him up better than anyone."

"if I get up I'll fall down the stairs," he laughed, "good luck though."

Hiccup sighed dramatically, lugging Verlin down the stairs.

Charlotte was, as usual, already attending to legion affairs in the praetorium by the time Hiccup managed to drag Verlin inside.

Hiccup dropped Verlin into a chair then took up his own, slumping his head onto the table.

"morning," Charlotte greeted, head in a hand propped on the table, "I see you're doing as well as everyone else."

"ha."

"Woooo," Verlin muttered, "got any drinks?"

"no," Charlotte laughed but slid a plate of biscuits across the table, "eat something it'll make you feel better."

"thanks," Hiccup muttered, but his nausea still lingered so he decided nibbling on a biscuit was probably the safer option, especially if Charlotte had cooked them, "I'm more worried about Verlin though, any ideas to sober him up?"

"patience has worked well in the past," Charlotte smiled, looking at some paperwork for mere seconds, shaking her head and then putting it aside, "all considering I wouldn't be too worried about protocol and TLC, everyone's hungover and we don't have any scheduled visits. I was considering waiting it out till the buzz is gone."

"yeah fair enough," Hiccup sighed, "where's Lia?"

"she hasn't stopped by yet. It's mid-week, she's likely checking the terror-nests for letters." She leafed through a stack of some papers, crinkled her nose and put them to the side as well.

"bingo," came the voice of the aforementioned as Aeliana strode in through the door in protocol required armouring, looking far too healthy for it to be fair.

"hi," Hiccup mumbled, remembering that he'd forgotten his armourings and was only wearing casual wear. It was days like these he thanked his lucky stars his friends were his praetors.

"guess what celestial conversation came this morning?"

"what?" Hiccup sat up, suddenly a lot more awake, "you're kidding."

"nope," she sat a leather-wrapped parcel on the table in front of Hiccup, about a metre long and a couple inches round, "unfortunately they didn't stick around to chat, although that's unsurprising as I wasn't the intended receiver."

Hiccup already knew it was Pluto, there was no other god who would be sending him things. Vesta was a possibility, but she preferred prophetic wisdom and thought to be her gifts rather than material objects.

Momentarily he was hurt that his Patron hadn't bothered to stop by long enough to talk. Realistically he hadn't even stopped by, he'd gone to the mailboxes. But that was to be expected. Word couldn't get out that a champion of Pluto was walking amongst the people of Rome, there was no better omen of oncoming death and misfortune than that. And even still, it was technically military protocol to contact the legion's Praetor and send along a message to members unless it was completely personal.

Hiccup was really beginning to hate protocols.

He unwrapped the leather, though, his headache still banging along like Vulcan in his forge. But all was forgotten and forgiven when he laid eyes on what he'd been sent.

A gladius, sheathed, gleamed in the low light of the praetorium. The cross guard was polished ivory, stained leather wrapped around its grip, the pommel was sharpened to a stout point held by gleaming bronze clasps. Charlotte sucked in a breath at the sight of the blade. Hiccup shared the sentiment.

Before he even touched it he knew it was masterly crafted.

He lifted the sword, it weighed half of what he expected, and marvelled at how perfectly balanced it was. His hand fit the hilt with ease and it slid out of the sheath with no issue, it was well-oiled and cared for.

The blade itself was black. Blacker than black. Deep and shadowed. The light didn't reflect off it, it was absorbed by it. he twisted the blade slightly and it shimmered, glowing like their were tiny stars hidden inside it. Hiccup rapped a knuckled against the metal.

"stygian Iron," he announced in awe. He'd heard of it, the metal that could only be wielded by those touched by the underworld and death.

"now that's a sword," Charlotte ran her eyes up and down it, "I'd ask to hold it myself but I'm pretty sure it'd burn me alive."

"something like that," Hiccup murmured, still in awe at the blade in his hands.

Belatedly, he realised there was something else wrapped in the leather and slid the sword back in its sheath, then lay it on the table. A leather quiver, strengthened and slightly embellished with more stygian iron, sat alongside a letter from Pluto. The quiver was fully stocked with arrows and a strip of iron was attached to the side of it.

"mate," Verlin said, "it's not even Saturnalia"

"I know, it's ridiculous," he said, picking up the letter.

"so what's the occasion?" Aeliana asked when he sat it down.

"Jupiter knows," Hiccup sad and the room's happiness dropped a few pegs, "he's promised I'll be tried as any other champion or even demigod."

"that's ridiculous," Aeliana hissed.

"it's really not," Hiccup defended, "regardless Pluto has sent these so I can defend myself from magical attacks. Apparently the sword turns into a ring. And the strip turns into a bow." He aimed the last part to Verlin, hoping to strike his interest in something that wasn't alcohol.

"well then, to the shooting range," he drawled, clumsily getting up from his chair and promptly collapsing when he flung his leg too far forwards in his first step, "raincheck."