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Chapter Text

The chatter of the feast being thrown on Olympus was everywhere Persephone went. For the longest time, she couldn’t fathom why–the Olympians always threw parties. However, that was when she heard the news from her mother–this party was different. This would be the first time in centuries that all the Olympians would be together. Poseidon would come around occasionally to try to entice Persephone’s mother– Demeter– but those were at least a few months apart when tracking how Selene presented herself. And this would be the first time she’d ever get at least a glimpse of the king of The Underworld, Hades.

She’d heard a little about him from her mother occasionally. She seemed to be quite fond of him. She’d tell stories of the war and how they fought ever so bravely side by side– however, knowing her mother, Persephone wasn’t so sure– and then the two had hardly heard from one another since he was crowned. Only the occasional letter once in a blue moon delivered by either Hermes or Iris. Aphrodite mentioned him before as well– even though she’d never met him, only seen paintings Apollo had made– she commented on his supposed beauty. Persephone had no way of knowing, she’d never even seen a painting of Hades. Gods are naturally beautiful, though, so there was a high chance Aphrodite was right.

So Persephone sat next to the flowerbeds, her presence enhancing the flowers’ growth. If Hades and her mother were as close as it seemed, he’d stop by to escort her to the palace. That would give Persephone a chance to get a look at his face.

And, just as she hoped, he did just that.

She watched from afar, he came out of the ground, the souls of the dead clawing at his legs before retreating into the ground when he shook them off. He greeted her mother with a hug and a smile, the grass wilting around him. His voice was soft and low– a calming but melancholy tone, how she imagined death felt like. She brushed her curls away from her ear as she tried to listen to their conversation. She usually wasn’t one to eavesdrop but she was so curious her usual values mattered less than normal.

Her mother asked if he’d found himself a bride, to which he answered negatively. He then brushed off the idea that he could be lonely despite Demeter not bringing the subject up, leading Persephone to believe he was lonely. They walked around the pastures and orchards– Hades trying his best not to kill the year’s harvest– making up for lost time. She learned that Hades had someone or something named Cerberus and who or whatever Cerberus was was a male. He also seemed quite good friends with the river goddess, Styx. Then, the topic of Demeter’s daughter arose. It was natural that Persephone would be mentioned but that didn’t take away from how flustered she felt when she and Hades had locked eyes.

She was worried he’d know she was listening to them and retreated into the bushes, azaleas blooming as she did. She stayed for a while until she no longer heard their footsteps or conversation. They were most likely on their way to the palace for the feast, leaving her behind. And this was not to complain, no, she was used to it. She was nowhere near the level the Olympians were on, thus being a minor goddess. She was all right with that fact. However, eating dinner alone was never fun.

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He returned the next morning after staying the night at the palace. This time, after the usual conversation with her mother, he came to talk to Persephone. That was unexpected. She was used to the attention, she had plenty of suitors, both on and off Olympus, but it wasn’t often they sat and had a conversation with her that didn’t revolve around their potential married life. The only exception was Hephaestus, who had always been a god of few words. Besides that, he seemed more interested in Aphrodite than her.

Hades walked with a stride only a king could have. His black hair contrasted almost strikingly with how pale he was. She had to agree with Aphrodite’s sentiment, he was as beautiful as any brother of Zeus would be. Broad shoulders, and heavy eyes like he’d never slept before. But in an attractive way, like he was a hard worker. He looked down at her in her field of flowers, she could tell he was trying his best not to look intimidating but that posed itself as a challenge due to the height difference and the fact he was inherently intimidating as a king– and not just any king, a brother of Zeus and king of The Underworld. Looking down, him just being there wilted her daisies which was mildly annoying. She decided she’d fix it once he left.

“You would be Persephone, correct?”

“Yes,” She replied, silently reviving a wilting daisy, “And you?”

“Hades, king of The Underworld. I assume your mother would have told you about me.”

He looked mildly upset at the prospect that he and Demeter were no longer as close as they used to be.

“Oh, no,” Persephone replied, “I’d just never seen your face.”

“Well, that's comforting,” He sat down next to her, further ruining her flowers, “So, Persephone, tell me about yourself. Do you have any hobbies or interests? Besides flowers, of course.”

She tapped on the daisies as she talked to him, fixing the limp stems and greying petals.

“Not really,” she chuckled. I can grow fruit, though! And you? What’s it like ruling The Underworld?”

“A lot of work,” He leaned back, wilting the blooms even more, “It’s nice to get away from it all occasionally.”

He gazed up at the sky, admiring the light, something she assumed he didn’t see much of underground. He seemed lonely, just looking at him, how dark it must be down there, she couldn’t imagine. The screams of the damned echoing from Tartarus would keep her up at night. She felt sorry for him.

He turned over to her and they locked eyes for a moment. Her face flushed slightly, presumably out of shock. She continued to run her fingers through the flowers, trying to think of something to fill the silence.

“Your mother mentioned all the suitors you’ve been having,” Hades eventually said, a strange change of topic.

“It’s been a process,” She chuckled, “My mother’s really particular about who she lets even try to win me over. Father has approved a lot more than she has.”

“That sure sounds stressful,” He leans in closer.

“It’s driving Hera crazy,” Persephone giggled, twirling a daisy in her hand.

“She’s always been that way,” Hades said, waving his hand. Sort of dismissing the idea of this being out of the ordinary, “She couldn’t fathom why Hestia kept rejecting Apollo’s advances. She loves to plan a wedding.”

“At least it’s not as bad as Aphrodite. Everyone’s always stumbling over themselves to ask for her hand. She hasn’t chosen anyone yet if you’d like to try your hand.”

Hades chuckled, “Oh, heavens no, I met her the other day. She spent half the time looking in the mirror, the other half talking about herself.”

“Fair enough, I suppose.”

She’d spent the time talking to him mindlessly weaving a flower crown. Every flower she picked, she regenerated by the stem. Hades seemed to notice and seemed interested in it.

“Impressive work. How do you not break the stems?”

“It takes a gentle hand,” She says, not looking up from her work.

She finished the flower crown and looked up at Hades, who seemed strangely entranced by her handiwork. It made her wonder if he’d never seen a flower crown before. Or perhaps he had but never seen someone do it in years. Maybe her mother used to since she was the one who’d taught Persephone.

“Do you want to keep it?” Persephone asked.

It seemed to catch him off guard. His face flushed slightly, and he struggled to answer. Persephone simply reached up and placed the flower crown on his head, around his normal crown.

“There you go!” Persephone grinned, amused by his shock.

“O-Oh,” He hesitated, “Thank you.”

Just then, Demeter turned the corner to call Hades up to the palace for further festivities. Hera wanted to announce something. And so, they left. Hades didn’t take the flower crown off– even though it wilted the second it touched his head—a strange contrast the two had. Life and death.

Persephone stood and went back inside, the glisten of the Olympian palace in the far distance.

Chapter Text

He’d been called up to the palace on Olympus so Hera could announce the upcoming union between her son Hephaestus and Aphrodite. There were scoffs and cheers; the clinking of glasses together. But all he could think about was the flower crown he held in his hands. How she so effortlessly weaved stems over and under one another. It took him back to when he was young, right after the Titanomachy. Demeter had made everyone a flower crown, the flowers chosen specifically for them. Hades’s flower was aconite– or wolfsbane, as she’d called it– one of the only flowers that didn’t wilt when in contact with him. She’d said she made them to be resilient. He assumed Demeter was the one who had taught Persephone how to make the crowns.

“You found another thing to sulk about already?” Poseidon asked snarkily, a glass of wine in hand.

“No,” Hades replied, turning over to his brother.

“Can you believe Zeus? Giving Aphrodite away to that… whatever you’d call him.”

“That’s Zeus and Hera’s son you’re referring to, need I remind you. Not to mention you’re already married.”

“Whatever,” He scoffed and then noticed the flower crown Hades still held in his hand, “What’s that?”

Hades looked back at the wilted daisies, softly tugging on a petal with his fingers, “A flower crown.”

“Oh,” Poseidon sipped his wine, “Did Demeter make it? Like she used to?”

“No, her daughter did.”

“Oh, Persephone. She’s cute enough, I guess,” He glanced over at Aphrodite, who was discussing something with the king and queen, too far for the two of them to hear, “I guess she would be everyone’s next best option since the blacksmith boy got Aphrodite.”

“It is excellent work, is it not?” He held up the ring of flowers to his brother.

“I guess. Shame you wilted it, huh?” He chuckled and took another drink of his wine.

Hades rolled his eyes and put the flower crown back over his head. Poseidon walked over to talk to someone else. Meanwhile, Aphrodite finished her conversation– or seemingly argument– with Zeus and Hera and walked over to Hades’ table, groaning and exasperatedly running her fingers through her hair. She slumped in the chair across from him and poured herself a glass of wine. Hades sipped at his wine as he tried to find something to say. Aphrodite looked up at him and perked up.

“Where’d you get the flower crown? Persephone?” She asked, pointing at the flower crown with her glass.

“Yes,” Hades replied, “She just handed it to me.”

Aphrodite giggled, “That’s so cute! What’d you guys talk about? Demeter told me you met!”

“Not much. Mostly flowers and how her mother’s been scaring off any man who talks to her.”

Aphrodite sips her wine, “Oh yeah, she told me about it. Can I hold it?”

Hades handed the flower crown to Aphrodite, who turned the daisies into roses– thorns and all– and placed it back on Hades’ head, giggling.

“What’s so funny?” Hades asked, lowering his glass of wine from his lips.

“Oh, nothing,” Aphrodite replied, running her finger around the rim of his wine glass, “Tell Persephone I said ‘hi’ since I can’t visit her today. I’ve got a wedding to plan.”

There was a hint of annoyance in her voice in the last sentence. Regardless, Hades agreed, finishing his drink.

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After the party, Hades spent the night at the palace before returning to the Underworld. And, months later, he returned to Olympus for Aphrodite and Hephaestus’ wedding. Grand as any Olympian wedding would be, Hera and Aphrodite clearly had the most say in the decor. Hades wore the flower crown Aphrodite had enchanted when they had spoken at the engagement dinner. He felt it was necessary, as it was– in a way– a gift from the bride. He’d spent most of his time with his brothers and Demeter, occasionally running into Apollo’s son, Hymenaeus, who Hera had said was the guest of honor. Perhaps his attendance was only natural, as he was a member of Aphrodite’s court and a marriage god in his own right. He’d pointed out his mother on stage with his father but Hades was unsure which muse he was referring to and felt it rude to ask. Demeter left after a while to find her daughter– who had been dragged away by the bride. Poseidon, meanwhile, felt the need to crack jokes about how upset Ares looked. Although– to be fair– as little as Hades knew him, Ares tended to always be upset in some form or another.

All in all, it was as enjoyable as any wedding could be when you hardly know the newlyweds. And, afterward, Demeter had invited him over for dinner to send him off since he’d be leaving in the morning. The servant nymphs decorated the banquet hall with flowers and vines, and a fruit bowl sat neatly centered on the dining table. They poured wine and plated food, all while Demeter had left to call her daughter downstairs.

Hades was used to being alone with servants but he’d never been too fond of it. He leaned his chair backward, something Poseidon did whenever he was bored, and watched the nymphs work. They were diligent, stirring pots, washing dishes, and setting bottles on ice while another struggled to find a bottle opener. He examined them and assumed a few to be sisters by shared traits, another two a mother and daughter by how the younger of the two constantly looked to her elder for direction, and another two friends by how they couldn’t focus with the other around. The last two reminded him of his brothers before they each became kings, laughing and splashing water on each other without a care in the world, making up for lost time, getting to know Zeus and the nymphs that raised him. He missed when life was so simple, even if it was merely for a short while.

Demeter came downstairs, Persephone behind her. They each wore dresses so intricate that he could only assume Zeus’ daughter Athena had embroidered them herself. Persephone in purple, a color fitting for a daughter of Zeus, and her mother in a warm green, each with flowers and vines embroidered on the lace and sleeves. Persephone had a new flower crown now, violets– which, despite the name, were blue– and baby’s-breath. She also carried a basket of assorted fruit in her hands which was decorated with a bow.

The two sat at the table and Demeter whispered something to her daughter, leading Hades to turn to her.

“These are for you,” Persephone said, handing him the fruit basket, “As a gift since we don’t know when we’ll see you again. It was a pleasure to have you, your majesty.”

“There is no need for formalities,” Hades said, taking the basket, “But I thank you, regardless.”

Persephone nodded, tucking her hair behind her ear. A simple gesture Hades had noticed she did often; it was cute. The nymphs placed their plates of dinner on the table, stating to ask if any further assistance was needed.

Demeter thanked them, picked up her fork, and pointed it at Hades’ flower crown, “Where’d you get the rose crown? And ones that don’t wilt? Are they magic?”

Hades had forgotten he was wearing it and touched the flower crown, pricking himself with one of the thorns.

“Aphrodite,” He said, pressing his fingers together to stop the bleeding, “She changed the one Persephone gave me into roses. I couldn’t tell you why.”

“Maybe she wanted to preserve it,” Persephone said, “Aphrodite’s my best friend but the only flowers she can grow are roses. It was a gift I gave her.”

With her fork, Demeter picked up some ambrosia, “Well, that’s nice of her.”

The conversation quickly changed topics but Hades was too distracted to notice what they were talking about. For some reason, he was transfixed on Persephone. Every time she brushed her hair from her face or tucked it behind her ear, the way she sipped her wine, the gloss on her lips, the blush on her cheeks when she laughed, the way her hair fluctuated from blonde to brown in the torch light.

Everything.

She touched his hand to get his attention, suddenly pulling him back to reality. She asked if he was okay, her voice was soft, soothing. He affirmed that he was but couldn’t fight off the blush on his cheeks. He tried to get back into conversation with Demeter but couldn’t keep his eyes off her daughter. The goddess almost glowed in his eyes, lively and bright, a stark contrast to his home in The Underworld; what he’d give to have life like that in his palace every day. To wake up next to that smile, to smell the aromas of flowers and fruit on her, to listen to her voice, sweet like honey or even the nectar straight from the flower. Someone to fill the ever-present dull gloom of his palace, her mere presence elevating the space. Her lips were stained pink with lipgloss and he couldn’t help but imagine those lips on his own. Soft and plush, gentle.

After a couple of hours, Persephone excused herself to sleep, her mother kissing her on the forehead before she left. Hades couldn’t help but watch her go, silently wishing she didn’t.

“Your daughter,” Hades said, turning to Demeter, “She’s quite beautiful.”

“Isn’t she?” Demeter replied, “Zeus and I talked about getting her married now that Aphrodite has been married to Hephaestus.”

“Have you chosen someone?” He internally hoped that the answer was ‘no’.

“No,” She replied, Hades let out a small sigh of relief, “I don’t feel too great about her being away for so long. Especially if she married someone off of Olympus, which is most people.”

“Well, you have a few options on Olympus. Apollo mentioned Persephone to me when we spoke,” Despite how he felt about Persephone, he felt obligated to help his sister.

“Apollo is allergic to commitment,” Demeter chuckled, “He has children with every woman he meets but can never settle down. Hermes too. He also seems to have his eyes fixed on Hera’s messenger girl. And Ares is too violent.”

“So your only options are off Olympus,” Hades said, fiddling with the petals on his flower crown, silently hinting at himself being a potential option.

“I’d never want her to be so far from me for so long. I’d settle for the mortal realm but my daughter deserves someone far above a mortal.”

The Underworld is partially connected to the mortal realm in a way. But it’s much too far from Olympus for Demeter to accept it. That left one last viable option because he was not going home without her. After conversing for a while longer, Hades excused himself to bid his brothers adieu.

During the entire trip to the palace, Hades debated whether to do what he did. But once he reached the pearlescent gates of the royal palace, he decided it was now or never. He went to the throne room, where Poseidon was talking Zeus’s ear off, and Hera was on the king’s lap. Upon hearing the doors open, they all turned to Hades, who stood in the doorway.

“Hades?” Poseidon said, confused, “I thought you left for The Underworld already?”

“Is there something you need?” Hera asked, her arms wrapped around Zeus.

“Brother, god king,” Hades said, addressing the king, “I have a request.”

“State your case,” Zeus replied.

“Your daughter, Persephone, I’d like to ask for her hand in marriage.”

Zeus ran his fingers through his hair, “Kore, huh?”

Kore. So that was the other name Demeter mentioned her daughter having.

“I’ll allow it,” Zeus continued, “But there’s no way she’d go willingly considering how Demeter is.”

Poseidon leaned in closer while Hera grimaced at what he was implying. The king called for Hermes and told him to retrieve a few ‘resting petals’ from Hypnos. Hermes swiftly returned with dried flowers wrapped in cloth.

“They'll put her in such a deep sleep she won’t wake until morning,” Hermes said, handing the cloth to Hades.

Hera was visibly miffed by the situation, whispering in Zeus’ ear. He consoled her, reminding her of the wedding she’d get to officiate if she let them be. Hades thanked his younger brother and left, resting petals in hand.

Intangibility was one of Hades' somewhat limited abilities, being able to phase through solid matter. Using this, he made his way into Persephone’s bedroom. She looked so peaceful asleep, her hair sprawled out on her pillow. He opened the cloth of dried flowers and held it to Persephone’s nose, allowing her to inhale the aroma. After putting her to sleep, he lifted her in his arms. He felt mildly guilty for what he was doing but didn’t want to risk missing the opportunity to marry her.

And so, the ground opened.

Chapter Text

Groggy and disoriented, Persephone awoke in a bed that was not hers. Dim lights and dark walls; the window showed a colorless courtyard that Persephone thought would be a good place for a garden. She stumbled out of the bed onto the soft rug, which looked blue-green in the dim lighting. That was when she realized she didn’t know where she was. She went to sleep in her bed and woke up… Wherever she was. With no way to get home.

Her vision began to blur with tears, but she quickly blinked them away. Crying would make noise, and that is the last thing you want when in potential danger. She rummaged through the drawers. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but she hoped to find something. All she found was a pearl necklace with a conch shell charm. Nothing useful, so she left it in the drawer and snuck through the door.

The hall outside– what she assumed to be the servants’ quarters– was grand, with rooms on both walls, numbers on each door; decorations between. Her lack of shoes made it so her footsteps weren’t loud. However, due to the stillness of the dawn–at least she assumed it was dawn– they were audible. There was a dull chill in the air, and she still felt faint. Perhaps it was the fear.

She walked down the hall until she found a door that led to the outside. Stepping out, the grass was damp. She walked slowly at first and worked her way to a sprint as she continued, lifting her nightgown so as not to trip or dirty it. She ran through a path until she reached a riverbank. She sat next to the river and ran her fingers through the cold water.

Then the water began to rise. It raised until it was taller than Persephone. Then it changed form. It shaped itself into a woman with webbed fingers and a tail; a mermaid. It then solidified into ice and became a goddess.

“So you’re the girl Hades had in Charon’s boat,” The Goddess said, swinging her shark tail in the water, “I’m Styx.”

“Kore,” Persephone replied reluctantly, scooting away from Styx, who now leaned on the riverbank, her head resting in her hands.

“Not Persephone? That was what Hades called you when I asked,” Styx asked, leaning closer, her serrated teeth put Persephone on edge.

Hades. That means this must be The Underworld. But why would he bring her here? Did her mother know and not tell her?

“I have two names,” Persephone chuckled, trying to calm herself since the goddess seemed harmless, “My mother wanted one, and my father wanted the other. So they settled for both.”

Styx reached for Persephone’s face, “You’re even more beautiful when you’re awake. No wonder he chose you. Even if it was right after Minthe”

Persephone leaned backward–almost instinctively. It was a name that was mentioned by her mother in passing, “Who’s that?”
“Not my story to tell,” Styx replied, “On another note, have you met Hecate yet?”

“No,” Hecate was another name she knew but knew little about.

“And you were asleep on Charon’s boat…” Styx mumbled, “So Hades and I are the only deities you know here.”

“I suppose so,” Persephone murmured.

“Persephone?” A low voice said. The same voice of death she’d first heard only a few days before.

“Hades!” Styx beamed, holding her hands out.

“What are you doing out here?” Hades asked Persephone, tossing Styx a fish which she promptly devoured.

‘What am I doing here at all’ was what Persephone wanted to ask but she couldn’t get the words out with Hades standing over her. Foreboding, intimidating, regal; he looked down at her as if nothing was wrong. He kneeled to bring himself to a similar level to Persephone.

“You seem ill, are you alright?” He asked, brushing her hair out of her face.

In all honesty, Persephone did feel a bit weak and she was a bit paler than usual.

“I’m fine,” She lied.

Hades took his cape off, laid it on the ground, and sat down to feed Styx. Styx tore the fish apart as if she’d never tasted food before, she didn’t even leave the bones, and the blood stained her teeth. Hades turned to Persephone, who was watching Styx eat breakfast.

“Do you want to feed her?” Hades asked, catching Persephone off-guard, “She likes salmon.”

Persephone glanced back and forth from the fish to Hades before taking one of the fish and tossing it to the eager river goddess.

“She seems to like you, Persephone,” Hades said, handing Styx another salmon, “She asked plenty of questions while we crossed.”

She didn’t know why, but how calm Hades was had calmed Persephone. He talked to her slowly and softly, as if he’d just woken up himself despite being so well dressed. She shuffled closer to him and handed another fish to Styx.

“I hope you didn’t mind waking up in a servant’s room,” Hades said, placing his hand over hers, “It is only temporary.”

Temporary. That implies she’ll be here for a while; she’ll be moved to a new room in his palace. The thought of being away from home for so long worried her. But the way he looked at her as he brushed her hair from her face was reassuring. After finishing the last salmon, Styx turned back to Hades for more.

“That’s all there is, Styx,” He said, patting Styx’s head.

“Stop treating me like a pet,” Styx said, swatting Hades’ hand away, “I’ve been in the underworld for longer than you’ve been alive!”

“I know, I know,” Hades said, smiling.

The two seemed to be friends. Hades stood, picked his cape up from the ground, and offered a hand to Persephone, which she reluctantly took. The two returned to the palace, Hades’ hand on Persephone’s shoulder.

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Persephone sat on the bed, braiding her hair in the servant’s bedroom. ‘Temporary’. How would her ‘permanent’ room look? It just dawned on her that she’s most likely stuck here now. That was when she got nervous. She began braiding her hair so quickly that she had to undo it to fix it.

“Are you sure you’re in the right place, goddess?” A voice said, raspy and feminine, seemingly younger than Persephone.

Persephone was shocked and turned to the door. A naiad; she seemed a bit tired. Her short, sea-green hair was messy and her eyes were red, either from drowsiness or crying.

“Oh!” Persephone said, scrambling off of the bed, “I’m sorry. His majesty–”

“Oh,” The nymph said, “You’re with King Hades?”

Persephone nodded sheepishly.

“You’re fine then. Maybe your guest room wasn’t ready yet,” The nymph walked over to her and offered a hand, “I’m Sybil.”

Persephone shook her hand, “Persephone, goddess of growth.”

“Zeus and Demeter’s daughter!” Sybil perked up.

Persephone giggled and nodded.

“It’s an honor,” Sybil bowed, “I work in the garden, you’d be great for the pomegranate trees! Oh! Or I could be your lady in waiting! Assuming you’re here to be the queen, that is.”

Queen. That must be why she was here. It explained everything– how he looked at her, brushed her hair from her eyes, casually rested his hand on her shoulder, and kissed her forehead after walking her to Sybil’s room. Everything. She had noticed his eyes on her at her mother’s dinner but didn’t think much of it. It was common for gods to look at her, her father even mentioned her beauty. Perhaps he had gotten her father’s blessing and hadn’t mentioned it.

There was a knock at the door and Hades walked in. He informed Persephone that breakfast was ready and escorted her to the dining room. The breakfast was elaborate with multiple courses. But all Persephone could think about was what Sybil had said. ‘Queen of The Underworld’ was not a title Persephone ever imagined herself with. But how Hades looked at her had made her warm up to the idea a little.

No matter what, this was going to be an extended stay.

Chapter Text

The ground lay cracked and lifeless. Amid the desolation, Demeter sprawled upon the earth, tears streaming down her cheeks as her anguished sobs echoed in the stillness. Each tear from her eyes that fell to the ground caused sprouts to push up from the dry soil only to wither moments later.

“Please calm down, great goddess Demeter,” Opora mumbled, braiding vines into her hair.

“She’s gone,” Demeter said between sobs, “It was my job to protect her and I failed!”

“You haven't failed,” Opora reassured Demeter, “It was out of your control.”

Demeter wiped her tears and stood.

“Where are you going?” Opora asked.

“To the oracle, I need wisdom.”

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The low strum of a lyre played, forever sounding distant in the temple. The scribes on the wall glowed a faint yellow as Demeter walked across the wet floor.

“Apollo, son of the king, god of the oracle,” Demeter called out, trying to hide her desperation, “I come seeking counsel on the well-being of my daughter Persephone.”

Demeter kneeled on the floor, head low. Frankly, she was never too fond of asking things of the younger Olympians, they always had issues with knowing their place, but she was truly desperate. There was a long strum of a lyre and a flash of light before she heard the soft voice of the music god.

“Lift your head, goddess,” Apollo said, prophecies were always one of the only things that could get him to speak formally, “Persephone, you say? She did go missing, did she not?”

“How–”

“Little gets past the messenger, and he tells me everything,” Apollo kneeled next to a pond and dipped his fingers in the water, eyes closed, “Now, let me examine her fate.”

Apollo submerged his hands in the water. The markings on his body glowed as he mumbled in tongues. The water began to swirl, and Apollo’s hair floated. The sounds of vocalizing and various instruments filled the space.

“A deal between brothers
A daughter taken from her mother
God of Death, through the ground
A silent theft, yet to be found
King of Gods, partner in crime
Flowers in wads, wilted from time”

So Hades kidnapped Persephone with the help of her own father. Demeter’s sadness quickly turned to rage as Apollo said each line. Apollo took his hands out of the water, the music faded out, his hair fell back down, and his body markings stopped glowing.

“Are you okay?” Apollo asked, placing a hand on Demeter’s shoulder.

Demeter stood, wiping tears from her face, “I’m going to the palace.”

She then walked out of the cave, Apollo glowing faintly behind her.

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She was greeted by Hermes at the palace gates. He hovered over her, his wings fluttering, keeping him afloat.

“Demeter, darling!” Hermes chimed, “What brings you here?”

“I need to talk to your father,” Demeter said sternly.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No, and neither did Hades, let me in.”

“Hades? What–”

“Let. Me. In.”

Hermes nodded and opened the gates, allowing Demeter to enter. She stormed past crowds of nymphs, Hermes following curiously behind.

“Zeus!” Demeter shouted, slamming open the doors to the throne room.

“Demeter?” He didn’t even look surprised.

“You let Hades take my daughter to The Underworld? Without even asking me?”

“We all knew what you were going to say,” The king replied, swishing his glass of wine, “You and I both know it was about time she got married.”

Demeter was fuming and just as she was about to continue arguing, Hermes spoke.

“So that’s what he used the resting petals for,” Hermes mumbled.

“You gave him resting petals?!” Demeter snarled, glaring at the king.

“Calm down, Demeter,” Hera urged, her voice soft.

“We will discuss this matter later,” Zeus said, waving his hand.

And before Demeter could object, she was outside the gates again. Demeter groaned, pulling her hair. She walked back to her home and slumped down on the floor next to her door, her face in her hands.

“Did you find out anything from the oracle?” Hecate asked, sitting down next to her.

Demeter nodded, her head still hanging low. Hecate was an aid to Hades in The Underworld. In fact, they were friends. She was Demeter and Hades’ main line of communication. Despite how furious she was, she didn’t wish for Hecate to be upset on her behalf. But watching Opora carry a vase full of daisies, Persephone’s favorite flower, ignited her rage once more.

“Hades got resting petals from the king,” Demeter mumbled, her eyes fixed on the vase, “She’s in The Underworld.”

Hecate was taken aback for a moment before standing up, one of her hands outstretched to Demeter.

“Then we’re going to have to talk to the King,” Hecate said, helping Demeter stand.

“I’ve already tried, you know how stubborn he is,” Demeter replied.

“Between you and I,” Hecate explained, “He’s afraid of my magic, I’m sure we could get through to him.”

“You’re free to try.”

With that, Hecate left. Demeter went about her usual routine, tending to the fields despite her mood, pulling weeds, and guiding naiads to water the harvest. Her eyes occasionally gazed back at Olympus in the distance.

Eventually, Hecate returned, heads low. She informed Demeter that the king was not open to negotiation and Demeter, getting desperate, asked what they were to do.

“I will go down to The Underworld to speak with Hades,” Hecate said, “He’s always been a bit more level-headed than Zeus. However, I’m not sure how much influence Aphrodite has had on him.”

“And as for me?” Demeter asked.

“Retaliate. In whatever way you know, harvest goddess. I trust you.”

And so Hecate cast a spell and went to The Underworld, leaving Demeter with her harvest. ‘Retaliate’. The word hung in the air like a thick fog on a chilly morning. ‘In whatever way you know how’. Demeter looked over at the nymphs that held seeds of grain, ready to be planted and she knew what she’d do. The goddess of the harvest would take away the most vital part of moral life, food. The king would have no choice but to listen, for the good of the creatures he governs.

A cool chill went through the air, courtesy of Eos’ son, and a layer of frost covered the ground. Demeter’s other daughter, the one she doesn’t speak of, had made her way to her mother's home now that Persephone was gone. Demeter, meanwhile, hid away from home so no one could try to change her mind.

Retaliation.

Chapter Text

When Hades was informed that Hecate requested a meeting with him, this wasn’t what he had in mind.

“Are you done?” He asked, leaning over his desk.

“What?” Hecate seemed a bit shocked at his bluntness.

“There is no need for this conversation, Hecate,” Hades replied, “Persephone is set to be my wife. I have the consent of the king, end of discussion.”

“Your Majesty, with all due respect, do you know what this could mean for the good of the world?”

“If there is an issue, we will discuss it as it comes. As for now, you are dismissed.”

Despite the snarl on her face, Hecate left, closing the door slightly harder than usual. Hades sighed, running his fingers through his jet-black hair. The situation was getting more troublesome than he had anticipated, but Persephone was worth any amount of trouble. Persephone… perhaps he should check on her. She had mentioned going to the orchard with the nymphs to check on the pomegranate trees. And so, to the orchard, he went.

Hades walked to the garden where Persephone and the nymphs planted trees as Persephone blessed the saplings. Persephone turned to Hades with a smile, waving. The pure joy of doing what she loved– gardening– was apparent on her face. It almost made Hades regret taking her from her home on the fields. Her hair was in a high ponytail to keep it from her face. Hades kneeled in front of her, brushed the dirt on her face with his thumb, and kissed her cheek.

“Are you all done here?” He asked.

Persephone nodded, “Did you see how healthy the trees looked?”

Hades nodded, “You’ve done wonders on them, honey.”

It was true, the plants were flourishing with her presence. He guided Persephone as she stood to her feet, the bottom of her dress was covered in dirt and mud. She tried brushing the dust off but it didn’t do much. Hades didn’t mind, though, she was still wearing the nightgown he’d brought her in. He had plenty of dresses she could wear.

“Perhaps we should get you cleaned up?” Hades suggested, gesturing to the palace.

Persephone agreed, and they made their way back to the palace. He ordered one of the servants to prepare a dress and toiletries for Persephone, who changed into something easier to take off. He walked her outside into the forest behind the palace. After noticing Persephone becoming increasingly weary, he explained that there was a spring inside the forest.

“It's magic,” he said, his hand resting reassuringly on Persephone’s shoulder, “I assumed it would be more comfortable than fiddling with the bathtub in the servants’ quarters. It adjusts to your liking. Everything you need is in the bag the nymphs packed for you.”

Persephone nodded, and they continued walking, soon reaching the creek. It was as dark as any other part of The Underworld, apart from the bioluminescent fruit hanging from tree vines, framing the water and reflecting on the surface. Persephone hesitantly dipped her toes in the water, seemingly surprised by the temperature. She began to undress before turning back to Hades, who sat at a tree, an albatross in hand.

“Do you wish for me to turn away?” He asked, closing his book.

Persephone hesitated before turning back to the water, “No, it’s alright.”

“Very well.”

She slipped her dress off and set it on the rocks before stepping into the water. She scooped water in her hands and washed her hair, ever so thoroughly. Meticulously running her fingers from her scalp to the ends, then guiding her hands down her body as she washed herself; So graceful, so effortlessly flawless like the most beautiful flower in the world that he just happened to be lucky enough to stumble upon and pluck. Each part of her was a petal, all of it fit together like a puzzle; So perfectly. It brought his mind back to the plans he’d been making. He glanced back at the page he was on, a love poem, fitting.

When she was finished, Persephone stepped out of the water and dried herself. When dressing, she did Hades’ assistance with a tie in the back of her dress but it was no hassle for him. The dress they chose was purple, what he assumed to be her favorite color and, if not that, a show of status. She was wearing purple when they met in that field and that dress in particular was covered in mud and dirt, she must have had plenty of purple gowns to disregard it in such a way. Perhaps it was only natural for a daughter of Zeus.

Hades tied the strings on the back of her dress and kissed her neck.

“You look beautiful,” He said, running his fingers through her hair and watching a blush creep up her face.

He traced her face with his hand and held her chin to look up at him. The blush on her face intensified as he gazed into her eyes.

“May I kiss you?” He asked.

Persephone hesitated for a moment before nodding. He leaned in for the kiss, her arms wrapping around his neck. But before their lips could meet, there was a rustling in the distance and a faint chuckle. Hades expanded his black wings, which Persephone promptly hid behind. He looked down at her and had to try to hide the amusement that crept up inside him. Demeter had clearly sheltered her a little too much, so blindly trusting of him because he was the only person here she even slightly knew. He appreciated it, though. She seemed comfortable with him.

“Is that Demeter’s daughter?” a voice from the woods said, “I do remember Hecate mentioning something about her.”

“How long have you been here, Thanatos?” Hades asked, Persephone still holding onto his cape.

“Not long, don’t worry,” Thanatos replied, stepping out of the brush, “Word has gotten around about her. Kore is her name, correct?”

Hades nodded, “She also goes by Persephone.”

“Awfully ominous for a harvest goddess,” Thanatos floated over, trying to peek around Hades’ shoulder to see Persephone, “And Kore won’t be very fitting after you’re married.”

“Were there not two of you that I heard?” Hades remarked, looking up at Thanatos as he hovered above him.

“That would be me, darling!” Hermes chimed as he flew out of the woods, zipping from amongst the trees to beside Thanatos, “Your mum’s been looking for you, Kore.”

“I am aware,” Hades replied for Persephone.

“She’s not happy,” Hermes added.

“I know.”

“She’s withholding the harvest.”

“That is a matter of the king. The living are not my subjects.”

Hermes shrugged, “Then so be it. For your sake, I hope she calms down before she fights with you over the matter. At this point, she may rip your face off if she sees you.”

“I’ll keep it in mind, Hermes.”

Hermes chuckled, and hovered on his back, lying in the air. Thanatos, meanwhile, managed to coax Persephone from hiding and seemed to be examining her.

“I believe your brother Apollo mentioned a goddess like her the last time I was there, Hermes?” Thanatos turned to Hermes, who was fiddling with Persephone’s hair.

Hermes nodded, “Yeah, she’s the one. He had his heart pretty set on impressing her. Knowing him, he probably would have gotten bored once he got her. Apollo’s always been a performer at heart.”

Persephone stepped away from the two gods, “Can you two stop touching me? It’s kind of weird with you guys talking about me while I’m right here.”

“Sorry, darling!” Hermes said, waving his hand up and down.

Persephone giggled and continued to chat with Hermes. Mostly about Demeter and how she was doing, and the whole ‘winter situation,’ as Hermes called it. They seemed comfortable with one another. Perhaps it was only natural, they were half-siblings, after all.

After a while, the two finished their conversation so Hades and Persephone walked back to the palace, where Hades left her to socialize with the servants. He returned to his office and sat in his chair, readjusting it after it turned slightly. He tapped his pen to paper– a gesture he did when he was thinking– and glanced at the pomegranate trees in the garden. The fruits would be a critical part of what he’d been planning– a proposal—something Aphrodite suggested in a letter he’d received yesterday. As a romantic gesture, a symbol of love in a way. Presenting her with the fruit much like others would use jewels or songs to woo a woman. Although, in this case, the fruit served another purpose, as a binding oath.

He looked back down at the page, splotches of ink stained the paper; the edges were charred from a candle he’d knocked over in a sleep-deprived state before he’d left for Olympus. He’d nearly not have noticed it if it weren’t for the smell. By then, the fire had spread to his desk, the char now stained the dark mahogany wood of his desk. He’d ordered another one but he didn’t mind the burns much. He didn’t know what exactly he planned to write on the parchment, only that he felt he should. A love letter, perhaps? Or would that be too juvenile? Love itself could be considered one of the most complex yet childish things one could experience, so, it may be appropriate. But he felt a goddess deserved something with thought put into it, such as a letter or even a poem. Perhaps with a gift to go along with it. Or was he overthinking this?

His mind wandered to Demeter. He imagined her crying in her bed, distraught over the loss of her daughter. He sympathized with her, certainly, but the thought of returning Persephone to Olympus pained him. If whoever loved Persephone more had the right to keep her, how would that be assessed if how they loved her was so different? And that difference caused their lack of mutual understanding.

He then picked up his pen and switched to another– equally scorched– sheet of paper. He wrote a (hopefully romantic) invitation to Persephone, folded it, and handed it– along with a dried rose– to one of the servant nymphs he’d called in. He would have preferred the rose to be fresh. Alas, that was not an option in the Underworld. Perhaps Persephone herself could bring it back to life. He told the servant to deliver the letter to Persephone and began preparations for the rest of the outing.

--------------------

“Where are we going?” Persephone asked, twirling the rose in her hand.

Just as he thought, her sacred essence caused the flower to spring back to life as if it had never died. Bright red with a green stem, thorns plucked meticulously.

Hades ran his fingers through his hair, unable to rationalize why he was so nervous. “The Elysian Fields. It’s where the blessed souls go. There's a park there. I assumed you’d enjoy it more than the palace.”

Persephone perked up a bit. It made him a bit sad, he suspected she’d envisioned a space that simply didn’t exist in the realm of the dead. No matter how noble the soul, it’s all the same ashy green mist. The only real difference is that in the Isles of the Blessed, they get a palace to rest and a feast and wine to gorge on for eternity. Flowers pressed out of the ground from every step she took. Perhaps she could bring life to the desolate wasteland he called home. Desolate as it was, it was a place he’d grown familiar with; even somewhat comfortable with the distant cries of the damned.

They set up a sort of picnic: pastries, ambrosia nectar; and wilted flowers. Thanatos suggested candles but that was a forest fire waiting to happen and, honestly, Hades didn’t trust himself with another candle.

Persephone sat beside him on the picnic blanket, taking a bite of ambrosia, “There’s not much here, is there?”

“There’s not much anywhere.”

Her comment was a joke; his was a statement.

The breeze blew her hair into her face as she giggled at him. It seems that she assumed he was also joking. Her laugh was as sweet as the nectar of the flowers she took such good care of back on Olympus. He glanced at the picnic basket beside him; the pomegranate sat inside, hidden by the other snacks and beverages, and he began second-guessing himself. Would she miss Olympus? Missing her mother, whom she hadn’t been away from since birth, would be a given. But Olympus was her home. The pastures she tended to, the palace always looming in the distance, the Olympians’ chatter, her nymph friends, the comfort of familiarity—he was sure she’d miss it all. But he was just as certain she’d become comfortable with the misty gloom of the Underworld.

“I feel like the fields could do for some wildflowers,” Persephone said, gesturing to the vast landscape grasses, “Like yarrow– Oh! Or bloodroot! A fitting name, don’t you think? The flowers are white so I think it would contrast well.”

She leaned onto him, causing him to freeze momentarily before regaining his composure.

“Well then, I suppose that will be the first thing you change when you become queen of these lands.”

He wrapped his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. She didn’t seem surprised by the ‘queen’ comment. Perhaps the nymphs had their suspicions and informed her. Judging by her body language, she didn’t object to the idea.

“Persephone,” He eventually mustered the courage to say, “May I ask you something?”

She turned and looked up at him, “Yes?”

He stood, guiding her to stand with him. She seemed slightly confused as he kneeled before her, reaching for the pomegranate in the basket.

Hades took a breath before speaking, “Kore Persephone, goddess of growth, daughter of Demeter and Zeus. You are the most gorgeous goddess I’ve met. Your voice is as ethereal as the strum of Phoebus Apollo’s lyre; your smile as sweet as nectar. And I humbly ask you to be my queen in this kingdom of ash and bone.”

He presented her with the pomegranate and watched her expressions go from shock to a smile to uncertain. She took the pomegranate from Hades’ hand and fiddled with it. She picked at the skin of the fruit before abruptly stopping and handing it back to Hades.

“I’m sorry,” She blurted, looking away, “I can’t. My mother would be devastated. I couldn’t move so far from her.”

She sat down and brushed Hades’ hair from his eyes. So gentle and comforting; loving. His heart hurt worse knowing that her touch will never be the touch of his wife.

“You’re beautiful,” She said, reassuringly, “I’m sure there are plenty of women who would love to marry you– myself included– but it would be wrong for us to be together. Given the circumstances, my father will relent soon enough.”

“Kore…” Hades mumbled as Persephone stood.

“Thank you for the offer, your majesty.”

And with that, Persephone left. He didn’t know whether or not she knew the way back to the palace but she went in the correct direction. Hades lied down on the picnic blanket and gazed up blankly at the misty sky. He refused to let himself cry. It was a blow to his ego, yes, but there were worse things. Inside him was still a glimmer of hope– she wanted to but she couldn’t. He raised the pomegranate in the air and looked at it. Her words replayed in his mind: ‘I can’t.’ ‘It would be wrong…’ She refused to marry him…

However, she still loved him.

Chapter Text

Persephone locked the door behind her and sat on the floor of her temporary bedroom. She turned to the intricately decorated mirror on the wall as she fiddled with her hair. It seemed the Underworld was darkening her hair, locs that were once blonde were now a light brown. Along with the change in hair color, her skin color began to pale. Although that was likely due to the lack of sunlight she’d gotten the past weeks. It brought her mind back to Hades’ long, black hair. Had his hair once been light like hers and darkened due to the darkness of the realm he rules? Frankly, he was the last thing she wanted to think about. She figured he’d be angry with her, gods–especially one of his status– don’t take well to rejection.

She snuck out the window into the garden, took a pomegranate from one of the trees, and returned to the bedroom, locking the window as well. She held the fruit in her hand, dug her fingers into the top, and ripped it in half. She then placed the halves down, raised her hands to her face, and made a prayer to her dear friend, Aphrodite.

“Heavenly Aphrodite, bless me with your presence for I seek counsel in your area of expertise,” She mumbled with her eyes closed.

If she were mortal or any other minor goddess, she’d need an offering, but Aphrodite and Persephone were close and she never minded a lack of a gift. Aphrodite revealed herself with a flash of light and rose petals, her light hair sprawled over the pillows on the bed Persephone had been sleeping on. She sat up and leaned over, elbows on her thighs, legs crossed.

“You called, babe?” Aphrodite asked, tilting her head.

Persephone flopped on the bed next to Aphrodite, “Gods, where do I start?”

“Start with the love stuff.”

Persephone handed Aphrodite half of the pomegranate, “You may want a snack. I have a lot to talk about.”

Aphrodite looked strangely wary of the pomegranate and tossed it across the room, “No, thanks. Now, how have things been going with Hades?”

“Horrible! As soon as I got here, everyone’s been telling me he wanted to marry me. It turns out, they were right!”

“Well,” Aphrodite replied, braiding Persephone’s hair, “What did you say?”

“I obviously said ‘no’. I could never do that knowing the situation in the mortal world.”

“But do you love him?” She stressed the word ‘love’– breathy and delicate– as it was sacred to her.

Persephone hesitated. She didn’t know how to answer. She’d never been in love before and thus, had no way of telling if the race of her heart when he touched her was love or fear. She felt strangely comfortable with him, hiding behind him instinctively when she was startled. But she also felt he was too comfortable with her– the kisses; the way he played with her hair– but how his hand always rested on her shoulder never made her uneasy in the way she’d felt with other suitors. Perhaps it had yet to be love; a seed that had yet to sprout but would if the conditions allowed for it.

“I may, in time,” Persephone replied, more to the air around her than Aphrodite.

Aphrodite gave Persephone a quizzical look, “What do you mean by that?”

Before Persephone could answer, there was a knock at the door. Three, then four; rhythmic, like a code or some strange habit. The knocks were then followed by the raspy voice of the nymph she’d met during her first day in the Underworld, the one who owned the bedroom she’d been sleeping in.

“Pardon me, goddess,” Sybil said from outside the door, “May I come in?”

“Yes,” Persephone half-shouted, “Sorry.”

Sybil unlocked the door, opened it, and bowed at Persephone and Aphrodite.

“I have a letter from the king,” Sybil said, reaching into the bag she had slung across her body, “He wanted you to read it.”

She took out a folded letter—the edges of the paper were charred just like the first one, so Persephone began to think it was intentional—and a single red rose, as wilted as the first. Persephone sat up, but Aphrodite reached for the rose and letter first.

“Ooh! A love letter!” Aphrodite beamed, holding the letter in the air and unfolding it.

“It’s more likely a letter cursing me,” Persephone replied, taking the letter from her friend’s hands.

“I doubt it, he’s smitten with you!” Aphrodite replied, reaching for the letter, “Let me read it!”

Aphrodite took both the letter and the rose in one fell swoop. Her abilities revived the rose and turned its tips pink. She skimmed over the letter, Sybil sat at the foot of the bed on the rug, and Persephone twirled her hair around her finger, anticipation mixing with fear.

“Alright,” Aphrodite cleared her throat, “Are you listening?”

Persephone nodded and Aphrodite handed her the rose. As she took it, Persephone pricked her finger with a thorn that had grown when Aphrodite took the flower and began to suck her finger.

Aphrodite got up from the bed and walked around the room as she read the letter, imitating Hades’ voice.

“My dearest, Persephone,

Perhaps I came on too strong during our last meeting. I understand it must have been startling, considering we haven’t spoken much. I apologize for my actions, and as a token of my regret, I have appointed Sybil as your personal handmaiden. If you can find it within yourself to forgive me, I request that you reply.

With love, Hades.”

Aphrodite returned to her natural voice, “He put a heart at the end of the letter.”

“No, he didn’t,” Persephone replied.

She snatched the letter from her friend and skimmed through it. A comma after ‘dearest’, the intricate loops and swirls in the letters, and, lastly, in the end, sat a perfectly symmetrical heart, punctuating Hades’ name. The ink bled slightly with each stroke of his pen, almost artistic.

“He has amazing penmanship,” Persephone remarked, her eyes still glued to the heart at the end of the letter.

“He Is a king, Kore,” Aphrodite replied, sitting back on the bed; sinking into the soft mattress.

“I suppose you’re right,” Persephone mumbled, lying beside her friend.

“You’re going to write back, right?” Aphrodite asked, looking down at her.

“I’m not sure, Aph…” Persephone murmured, lying the letter on her chest.

“Why not? What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Honestly, I’m just waiting for my mother to get me. The Underworld makes me uncomfortable; too dark and empty.”

“You’re a plant goddess, Kore!”

“Anything I grow wilts here, Aph!”

“You aren’t bound yet?” Sybil piped up.

Persephone turned to Sybil; she leaned on the bed’s footboard, looking down at Persephone– her new forewoman.

“What do you mean ‘bound’?” Persephone asked.

“When you’re a god– or, in your case, goddess– of a specific realm. Hades is bound to the Underworld, Poseidon to the sea, and Hermes to Olympus and the Underworld. I assumed you were since I saw the pomegranate on the floor.”

“You didn’t know what being bound is?” Aphrodite said, turning to Persephone, “If you get bound to the Underworld, your plant powers will work.”

“I’ll think about it,” Persephone said, twirling the revived rose in her hand, “You aren’t bound to the Underworld, Aphrodite, why do your powers work?”

Aphrodite kisses her friend’s forehead, “Love knows no bounds.”

--------------------

Aphrodite insisted on staying for the day, occasionally suggesting that Persephone reply to Hades’ letter.

“It’d be rude not to reply if you aren’t mad at him,” Aphrodite said, snacking on the ambrosia she’d brought from Olympus. The ambrosia on Olympus differed from in the Underworld– yellow with green leaves rather than the Underworld’s red and purple.

“Okay, fine!” Persephone relented, sitting up.

She sat at Sybil’s desk, to the left was a glass dip pen and various colors of ink, the most drained of the bunch being black. To the right was a stack of paper, about a few hundred. She’d seen Sybil write letters to her father; left-handed. Persephone crossed one arm over the other to reach for the pen and a sheet of paper with the other.

“What do I say?” She asked Aphrodite, “This was your idea.”

“Something charming,” Aphrodite replied leaning on the table’s edge, “Like a love letter.”

There was again, that strange breathiness when she said her divine word. She wasn’t close enough to the other Olympians to know if it was common for them.

“This isn’t a love letter!” She blurted, a lot more defensive than she’d prefer.

“Calm down, I was kidding!” Aphrodite chuckled, “Now, let’s write this letter!”

Persephone picked up the dip pen and dipped it in ink. The ink dripped onto the parchment as she pondered what to say. She was never angry, only a bit flustered. She drafted a letter letting him know about this. She glanced at the roses in the vase on the windowsill, both gifts from Hades. The first one had wilted again by then, Aphrodite’s was as bright as ever. She felt she had to give something more. She had no physical item to give, especially since she wasn’t bound to the Underworld. And so, she gave the only thing she had to offer:

Plant knowledge.

“Strawberries?” Aphrodite asked, still leaning over the table.

“It is the only fruit with its seeds outside,” Persephone replied, defending her choice.

“Not the most romantic gift, don’t you think?” Aphrodite snarked.

“The gift of knowledge is priceless,” Persephone grinned smugly, imitating her friend’s exceeding confidence.

Aphrodite waved her hand vertically, “Whatever,” She chuckled, “Send it off.”

Persephone sent Sybil off with the letter to Hades and relaxed on the bed with a book. And soon after Sybil exited, Hermes entered. Startled, Persephone hid under the sheets, causing Hermes to chuckle.

“Hermes! You have to knock before entering a lady’s room!” Persephone shouted, “What if Aphrodite or I were getting dressed?”

“Aphrodite spends most of her time at the palace nude,” Hermes replied; Aphrodite giggled, “And I didn’t know you were here. Sybil told me that Aphrodite was in this room; I’m here for her.”

Aphrodite groans, “Father or Hera?”

“Both.”

Aphrodite groans louder and pats Persephone’s head, “I guess this love is fleeting. Summon me if you need me, alright, baby?”

Persephone nods, “Alright. See you!”

Aphrodite waves to Persephone before dramatically falling into Hermes’ arms, causing him to roll his eyes before flying away.

--------------------

That one letter began a chain of messages between them. Hades always sent a rose and Persephone sent back a fact about some sort of plant. Their conversations would continue during meals and whenever he came to Sybil’s room to check on her. It brought Persephone the first real joy she’d felt throughout the situation.

“Letter, goddess,” Sybil said, sliding a letter on the desk, “From King Hades.”

Persephone looked up from her book– a notebook she found on Sybil’s shelf that she let her have– and eyed the letter on the desk. A wax seal in the shape of a rose held it close. She opened the letter, walked to the bed, and lay on it as she read. He’d invited Hera over– presumably to convince her to marry him, an idea she’d been warming up to over the past weeks– and he fully expected her to be completely honest with her.

‘For the sake of transparency, she will be reporting back to me the general contents of your conversation but don’t let it discourage you. I assure you, you’ll always be the same in my eyes.’

Something about that last part caught her attention. ‘The same in my eyes’, what could that mean? How did he see her? Was it the same as he did before the proposal?

She slid the letter into the drawer of the nightstand with all the others and placed the rose in the vase. The roses always wilted as soon as she let them go but the one Aphrodite enchanted was still as bright as ever. The contrast was stark, like night and day, the darkened petals and bent stems looked even more depressed next to the vibrancy of the red, pink, and bright green. The vase was empty except for the flowers, and Aphrodite’s rose needed no water. She said something about the ‘resilience of love’ or another. Persephone was almost shy about touching it– the only one of the bunch with thorns that Aphrodite insisted not be plucked. The mark on Persephone’s finger where she’d pricked herself was still there, it didn’t heal like normal divine wounds, strange.

There was a knock at the door which Sybil promptly answered– she’d taken up the role of handmaiden quite well. In the doorway stood Hera, queen of the gods. She had an almost radiance about her that put other goddesses to shame. Her heels clicked before stepping on the rug, her hand gesturing for Sybil to leave the room. Hera sat next to Persephone as the door closed, the darkness of the Underworld still didn’t manage to dull her jewelry which included her peacock feather earrings.

“I assume you know why I’m here,” She began.

“I received the letter from Hades, yes,” Persephone replied. She and Hera had never been particularly close, but she liked her more than the king’s other illegitimate children. Perhaps it was because she was her sister’s daughter.

“Good,” She crossed her legs, “I am obligated by your mother to ask you this and I want you to be honest. Hades won’t do anything, and if he does, I’ll take it up with your father.”

Persephone nodded, “Yes, your majesty?”

Hera leaned forward, “Do you want to marry Hades? As the goddess of women, I must ensure you are a willing participant in this mess.”

Persephone hesitated. It had been weeks since she was last asked that question. And, the last time, she refused. But now, she wasn’t as sure. ‘Love’ the way Aphrodite said the word played in her mind, the stressed breathiness, the way she felt the word– like it was her everything, all she thought about, a part of her she couldn’t live without. Was that love? To be one with someone– in sync, moving together through the waves and ripples of the stream of life. Or simply the desire to do so. Perhaps that was the issue, she’d never been ‘in love’ before. The difference between the familiar familial love of her mother and the unknown of Hades. Storge versus Eros.

“I’m… Not sure,” Persephone eventually replied, “I need to think it through.”

Hera nodded slightly as if she expected this. “Very well. When you make up your mind, send Iris to me with a letter. I’ll let her know to accept your summons.” She placed a hand on her shoulder. “Be strong, Kore.”

Persephone nodded.

And with a twirl, Hera turned around and left. Persephone listened to the click of the queen’s heels as she presumably made her way to Hades’ office. She laid her head on the pillow and stared up at the ceiling. She never thought she’d find herself in such a situation. Tied up by love and unable to choose. Did she truly have to choose between her mother and Hades? Was compromise on the table at all? Two things can coexist at once, can they not? Loving one doesn’t mean she can’t give equal love to the other. She peered at the rose in the vase, steadfast. She closed her eyes and relaxed.

Everything will fall into place in time.

Chapter Text

Hera had a habit of sitting on Hades’ desk whenever their meetings were anything less than strictly professional. He never knew why. She was so smitten with Zeus that there was no way she’d be trying to seduce him. He was especially sure of that after she spent half of her son’s engagement party suggesting goddesses for him to marry. Perhaps it was just how she was.

“Another ‘no’, huh?” Hades said, leaning backward in his chair.

“Not necessarily,” Hera replied, her legs crossed, causing the slit in her skirt to expose her thigh, “She hasn’t come to a conclusion, yet. You’re still in the running.”

Hades sighed, “I expected as much.”

“Well? Thoughts? What do you plan to do?”

“There’s not much to do, Hera,” Hades said. Hera didn’t seem satisfied with that answer so he continued, “I have an outing planned with her– a ‘date’, if you will– she wanted to meet Cerberus.”

“So, that’s progress!” She picked up a pen from his desk and pointed at him with it, “If you want her to marry you, you have to show her why you’re a better option than the familiarity of home. Because, if you don’t, she will go back to Olympus. And I won’t stop her.”

“I know, sister, I know.”

“She has the topic on her mind, she’s going to be looking for any reason to or not to marry you. Don’t give her an opportunity to doubt.”

“You’re making this even more stressful than it already is, Hera!”

She uncrossed her legs and hopped off the desk. “I merely gave you food for thought. Now, make yourself dapper. You have a goddess to impress.”

“Thank you, your majesty.”

With a bow, Hera left. She always wore the same gold high heels every time he saw her and they made a satisfyingly audible click as she strutted out of his office.

Hades ran his fingers through his hair. ‘Dapper’. He hadn’t worn his usual royal getup the last few times they’d seen each other. Wearing that was a start. He put on his crown and made his way to the garden. She seemed to like it there; perhaps because the only plants she can sustain without being bound are the pomegranate trees. It was almost ironic considering what would happen if she ate the literal fruit of her labor.

When he walked into the garden, Persephone was wearing one of the gardener uniforms and making small talk with the servants. She’d become quite fond of one of the servant nymphs. It was part of why he appointed her as Persephone’s handmaiden. Sybil was her name. A naiad; the daughter of some river god. She was sent to The Underworld as punishment. Funny, almost, his kingdom was a punishment for unruly children. Although, Sybil was no longer a child by now. She’d been in and out of the palace. She’d do her time, go home, do something wrong, and get sent back. This was her longest stay so far, it made him wonder what she’d done.

Persephone noticed him and waved with a smile, the gap between her front teeth adding the extra bit of charm that made him love her so much. Sybil helped her to her feet and led her to Hades as Persephone took off her gardening gloves.

He kissed her hand, something he’d noticed she’d become increasingly pleasant to, “Afternoon, Persephone. Have you finished up here?”

Persephone eagerly nodded, “I was just talking to Sybil about how easy the pomegranate trees are to care for. Especially considering I’d never handled them before.”

“Well, you are a harvest goddess,” Hades replied as they walked to the servant’s quarters.

“I suppose you’re right.”

She rested her head on and held his arm as Hades had to physically try to fight down the blush on his cheeks. Love was a painful yet oh, so beautiful feeling, truly.

“So,” Persephone began, “What did you have planned for today?”

He ran his fingers through his hair– a nervous gesture he’d done a lot more since they’d met, “I wanted to take you for lunch. I had the servants prepare food and there’s a tower to the west with quite a scenic view. I go there at times for a change of scenery and thought you’d like it.”

She smiled– gods, he loved her smile, “That sounds nice. Do you take people there often?”

“Not intentionally, no. My court has figured out that if I’m not in my office, that is the place to find me. I must warn you that Thanatos tends to go there on breaks so we may run into him.”

“I don’t mind. He’s so elusive, I’d like to get to know him better.”

He escorted her to Sybil’s bedroom and left her to change outfits. Walking around Sybil’s bedroom, he noticed her roots were ever prevalent despite how much she refused to discuss her home life. Shells and a taxidermied river fish hung on the walls, and a frame she’d mentioned her mother had made for her above was the desk, inside sat a drawing that was presumably made by a child with a boy’s name– Zale– written on the corner of the page. On the wall next to her desk was a portrait of her and a red-headed girl on a picnic. He assumed them to be friends considering they didn’t look like sisters. Nothing of her father’s, though.

“Alright, I’m ready to go,” Persephone said, stepping out of the walk-in closet.

He turned his attention back to Persephone. She wore a sequin dress in shades of purple and white along with a white cape made of fur. He’d left Hecate to purchase Persephone’s clothes since he assumed she’d know more about women’s clothing than he did and he now felt more confident in that choice.

“Well then,” He said, taking her hand, “Shall we?”

Persephone giggled– another one of the many things he loved about her, “We shall.”

--------------------

Just as he thought, Thanatos was smoking on the tower’s turret.

“Your Majesty,” Thanatos greeted, the smoke flowing from his mouth like water.

“Thanatos,” Hades replied, setting down his picnic basket.

“I was just leaving,” Thanatos added, putting out his cigarette against the turret's stone walls, “Carry on with your date, or whatever.”

“We don’t mind if you stay a while,” Persephone said, “We have food to spare.”

Hades and Thanatos shared a look and Hades shook his head.

“No, thank you,” Thanatos replied.

He tossed his cigarette butt off of the tower and left, winking at Hades on his way out, which Hades rolled his eyes at. Persephone went to look over the view as Hades spread out the picnic blanket. The view looked down at the courtyard; the lanterns bounced from the leaves of the trees and created a sort of sunrise in the land where the sunlight didn’t reach.

“You were right,” she said, smiling with a subtle blush on her cheeks, “The view is beautiful!”

A light breeze blew her steadily darkening hair into her face.

“Isn’t it?” He agreed, leaning on the ledge next to her.

‘Still pales in comparison to you,’ is what he’d thought but didn’t say.

“Shall we dine?” He suggested, brushing her hair from her face with one hand and gesturing to their lunch with the other.

They then sat down and ate. Hades made sure to savor every moment and detail: the way she bit into her sandwich, the way she twirled her hair around her finger, the way her lip gloss traced the rim of her glass—intoxicating, transfixing, perfect. He made sure to reach over and brush her hair from her face whenever the wind blew.

“Alright, I’m done,” Persephone said, standing, “I want to meet your dog!”

“Alright, alright,” Hades chuckled as he stood. We’ll have to stop at my office, though.”

“Great! Let’s go!”

She took his hand and dragged him away. He decided he’d sent a servant to pack up the picnic.

--------------------

“I forgot to ask,” Persephone began as Hades opened the door to his office, “What are we here for?”

“Honey cakes,” Hades replied, “He doesn’t like people who don’t feed him.”

He reached into a drawer, rummaged through toys, and pulled out a bag of cakes. He turned and saw Persephone leaning over his desk, tracing the burn marks with her finger—suddenly, he did mind the burns. He began to try to explain himself, but before he could speak, Persephone started laughing.

“So you weren’t intentionally burning the papers?” She giggled.

He’d hoped that was what she assumed; partially because those were the only sheets of paper he had.

“Well then,” Hades said, trying to play it off, “I suppose you’ve discovered my secret.”

He kissed her forehead, “Now, shall we go to the gates?”

She held his arm and they made their way to the gates of the Underworld. When Cerberus saw them, he jumped up. Hades opened the gates, and Cerberus jumped on him and licked his face.

“Looks like someone missed me,” Hades chuckled, petting one of Cerberus’ heads, “Meet Persephone.”

He gestured to Persephone, who was hiding behind his wing. She hesitated slightly before presenting Cerberus with the cake, which he promptly devoured. Persephone giggled and petted Cerberus.

“He’s really cute,” She said, “Other than how scary he looks.”

Hades placed his hand on Persephone’s shoulder, “You’ll get used to him. Assuming you stay, that is.”

She didn’t reply; she only broke another cake and fed it to Cerbrus’ other heads, smiling– disappointing. He kneeled and attached Cerberus’ leash to his collar.

“Where are we going?” Persephone asked.

“The Asphodel Meadows,” Hades replied, “The majority of it is a big open field. It's where I usually take Cerberus on his walks.”

“Okay then,” She replied, taking Hades’ hand, “Let’s go.”

It was particularly windy that day so whenever the wind blew, Persephone snuggled up to Hades even closer. And whenever she did, a blush crept up Hades' face. The topic of their conversation wasn’t very strong in his mind because all he could think about was how desperately he wanted to kiss her. They spent the rest of the afternoon there before returning Cerberus to his post at the gates. Persephone fed Cerberus one last honey cake broken into thirds– one for each head– before they left.

Supper was grand as usual. The average for a royal palace with a king and his court. Persephone sat across from Hades and next to Hecate and Sybil.

After dinner, Hades spent extra time making small talk with his associates. He then went out to the garden where Persephone was sitting on the deck. She had a mostly empty glass of wine in one hand and a butterfly in the other that she was talking to. Hades sat next to her, the garden lanterns reflected off of her face in shades of blue and green.

“I got you a slice of cake,” He said, handing a small plate with a slice of strawberry cake to Persephone.

She perked up, took the plate, and kissed Hades’ cheek– causing him to tense up. She picked up the fork and shoveled the cake into her mouth like a starved woman. Hades chuckled and waited for her to finish. After she finished eating, Hades wiped whipped cream from Persephone’s face.

“I’m tired,” She yawned, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She stood and Hades stood with her.

“That reminds me,” Hades said, “Your chambers are ready. Would you like me to walk you to the door?”

Persephone nodded, “Thank you, your majesty.”

He extended his hand and she accepted, “Once again, there is no need for formalities, Kore.”

“Sorry, sorry. Thank you, Hades.”

“My pleasure.”

--------------------

They walked hand-in-hand to the living quarters. The doors that lead to Hades and Persephone’s respective chambers were separated by a short hallway. Rose vines decorated the golden door frame and the door itself was engraved with flowers.

“Here it is,” Hades said, gesturing to the door.

Persephone reached for the doorknob but hesitated.

“Is something the matter?” Hades asked.

“It’s nothing,” Persephone replied, “I guess I just… got used to sharing a bed. And this room is so much larger than what I’m used to.”

Hades ran his fingers through his hair, “I could find a guest room in the servants' quarters if you’d prefer.”

She twirled her hair around her finger shyly, “Is there any chance I could… Spend the night with you?”

The question caught him off guard and he resisted the urge to say ‘yes, please’.

“I- If you don’t mind, of course!” Persephone stammered out.

“No, no, I don’t mind!” Hades replied, “I’d love to have you. You’d have to sleep in my bed, though.”

“I don’t mind.”

He then walked her down the hall to his living quarters. The usual skulls and such were engraved on the silver door and black door frame. He opened the door and let Persephone sit on the bed while he told a servant to retrieve pajamas for her. The nymph returned with a black silk nightgown and Hades handed it to Persephone who walked out into the bathroom to change. Hades, meanwhile, removed his shirt and changed into more comfortable pants. Persephone returned wearing the nightgown, mentioning how comfortable it was.

Persephone climbed into bed with Hades, looked up at him, and smiled sheepishly.

“Are you sure you’re alright with this?” She asked, mumbling.

“Of course,” He replied.

Persephone chuckled– seemingly more to herself than Hades, “Imagine what my mother would say.”

“About you sleeping in my bed… Unwed?”

“Partially, yes, but mostly us being close enough for me to want to,” She nuzzled closer to his chest and mumbled, “You know, I wouldn’t mind marrying you…”

That may have been the greatest thing he’d heard in all his millennia of living. Not even the sentence that followed could dampen his mood.

“I just feel so conflicted… It feels wrong to want to leave my mother in any capacity.”

He brushed her hair from her face and, damn, she looked beautiful– even half awake, “If you choose me as your own, I will love you for eternity. And, no matter what your mother says, I see nothing wrong with that.”

She didn’t respond but relaxed. Her face rested against his chest, smiling softly.

He pulled her in and kissed her forehead, “Goodnight, Persephone.”

She snuggled her head into his chest, “Goodnight.”

And it was at that moment that Hades knew he’d won.

Chapter Text

Waking up in another man’s bed wasn’t something she’d expected. Yet, here she was. Hades was still asleep with his arm around her, and Persephone’s face was dangerously close to his chest. He seemed to be much more used to having women in his bed than she was to being the woman in the bed, judging by how soundly he slept. She admired his muscles, unconsciously tracing them with her finger as she did. He was toned; she’d give him that. She noticed it when he wore one of his less dressy shirts and rolled his sleeves up to help move a flower pot in the garden. Sybil had made a joke about Persephone staring at Hades that Persephone almost didn’t register because she was staring at Hades. To be fair, so were most of the other nymphs. Sybil seemed fairly indifferent, though.

She suddenly realized how strange it would be if Hades woke so she moved her hand. That didn’t stop her from admiring the rest of him, though. His hair fell over his shoulders, black and glossy, reflective like a waterfall. In a word, he looked gorgeous. Her eyes trailed down to his sleeping face and then to his lips. And, for the first time in her life, Persephone was overcome with the desire to kiss him. Aphrodite always mentioned what someone ‘tasted like’ when she talked about kissing them. Persephone couldn’t imagine Hades’ mouth would taste any good after just waking up but she still wasn’t against the idea. She adjusted herself on the pillow so her hands were underneath her head. She wondered how many other women had kissed those lips. Her mother had mentioned some of his past lovers in passing– ‘Leuce’, ‘Minthe’, et cetera– but it never stuck out until now. He was much more experienced than her, that was for certain. So she was sure he’d be a much better kisser. Did that even matter? They haven’t even kissed yet; he hasn’t tried since they were interrupted in the woods.

Suddenly, Hades shuffled a bit and slowly opened his eyes, yawning. His eyebrows raised slightly when he saw Persephone awake.

“Oh! Good morning, Kore,” He said smiling.

There was something about how he smiled when he was half-awake and still tired that made her want to kiss him even more. And so, she opted for a simpler approach.

“Good Morning, Hades,” She kissed his cheek.

Hades tensed up when she kissed him and she giggled as a blush emerged on his cheeks. She took a deep breath, reached up, held his face in her hands, and leaned in for a kiss. Frankly, she was nervous as all hell but she felt it was now or never. Hades was quite receptive and leaned in with her. And, in a weird sense of deja vu, before their lips could meet, there was a knock at the door.

“Your majesty,” A servant said from outside, “Breakfast is ready.”

Hades stared at the door for a moment before glancing back at Persephone.

He jerked back, almost defensively, and cleared his throat, “Right,” He raised his voice to speak to the servant outside the door, “We’ll be right down!”

He climbed out of bed to get dressed and left Persephone on the bed– disappointing.

Getting dressed into your day clothes first thing in the morning was another thing she found strange about the Underworld. At home, she never got dressed until after breakfast. In hindsight, her mother only mentioned her not needing to change until after breakfast after Persephone spilled red grape juice over her white gown as a child. That was likely the reason. Despite that, she bid Hades temporary farewell and went down to Sybil’s room in the servants’ quarters, as all her clothes had yet to be moved to her personal space.

--------------------

“Purple, white, black, or red?” Sybil asked, digging through the clothes that Hecate, Hades’ advisor, had gifted her.

“What kind of red?” Persephone asked, “Ruby red or wine red?”

“Wine red.”

“I’ll go with red then.”

Persephone brushed her hair in front of Sybil’s mirror– something she hadn’t been able to do before, but the Underworld had straightened her once curly hair; Sybil called it ‘wilting’. Meanwhile, Sybil chose Persephone’s jewelry for the day. She had to admit, she quite enjoyed having a personal servant. It cut the time she took getting ready in half and Sybil also made for great company. Persephone wouldn’t mind getting used to it.

She put on her dress and jewelry and had Sybil do her makeup.

“So,” Sybil said as she applied Persephone’s eyeliner, “The word around the palace is that you have to choose between here or Olympus.”

Persephone sighed, “Yeah.”

“How’s that going?”

“Decisions like this are hard, Sybil! Give me some advice, what made you decide to move to the Underworld?”

Sybil chuckled, although it didn’t seem entirely genuine, “I didn’t. I was banished here.”

“Oh! I’m so sorry!”

“It’s alright, goddess. I honestly like it here more than where I’m from.”

“Well then, I’m glad you found a good forever home!”

“I am, too,” Sybil paused, “Done!”

She spun Persephone’s chair so she could look at herself in the mirror. She took a moment to admire Sybil’s work before standing.

The two of them began to walk down the halls to the dining hall. Meanwhile, other servants left their rooms to begin their workday.

“Morning, Trouble Bubble!” One nymph called out to Sybil.

“Morning, Cressida!” Sybil replied, waving.

“Trouble Bubble?” Persephone asked. That was a nickname she hadn’t heard before and she’d been in the underworld for months now.

“It’s a nickname I picked up after a while,” Sybil replied, “I was originally sent for ‘bad behavior’ when I was younger. Someone– I think Hecate– called me a ‘troubled child’ and I’m a naiad so… Trouble Bubble.”

“Ah…” Persephone said in understanding.

Sybil guided Persephone to the dining hall and left to have breakfast with the other servants after Persephone took her seat at the dining table. The table was long enough for a large banquet or party with grand, almost throne-like, chairs on either side. Hades had nearly insisted that Persephone take the other one across from him on her first night at the palace and it had been her spot ever since. Occasionally, she’d look up from her plate and catch him glancing at her so she assumed that to be the reason.

She poked her half-eaten breakfast with her fork as she waited for her tea to cool enough to drink and her mind began to wander. She thought of her mother on Olympus– sorrowful and lonely– and homesickness struck her like an arrow. Then she glanced up at Hades, who was hard at work on a crossword puzzle one of the younger nymphs had made, and she felt conflicted once more. She’d hate to let her mother be so depressed because of her absence but the thought of leaving and possibly never seeing Hades again nearly made her ill. And with how attached he’d gotten to her, she knew it’d pain him too.

If she asked Aphrodite, she would likely have said, ‘Go with your heart,’ or something similarly unhelpful. Thus, she raised the issue with her trusted handmaiden.

She was lying on Sybil’s bed, her hands overlapped on her chest as she spoke, “I’m just not sure what to choose. My mother would be devastated if I chose this new life over her. But, on the other hand, I wouldn’t want to hurt Hades a second time. Although, I did say ‘no’ to the proposal and there’s always the possibility he’s simply being hospitable and I’m creating problems where there aren’t any. But we nearly kissed this morning so he definitely still wants to be with me. But Hermes mentioned my mother’s been withholding the harvest and I don’t want mortals to suffer for my actions! I’d be a terrible people’s goddess if I did that.”

She sighed, sat up, and looked at Sybil, who was sitting on her chair at her desk, a glass in hand, “What do you think?”

Sybil set down her drink, lemonade with strawberry juice ice cubes, “That sounds like bullshit.”

It took Persephone by surprise; so blunt, “What?”

“The whole time, you’ve been thinking about what everyone else wants. ‘My mother’ this, ‘but Hades’ that. You’re stuck between two people but you haven’t once thought about how you feel.”

Persephone got quiet, combing her hair with her fingers. Sybil was somewhat rude, if she were any other goddess, Persephone would have turned her into a plant by now. And, frankly, she considered it. However, despite her bruised ego, she kept listening.

Sybil took another sip of her drink, “So tell me, goddess, how do you feel?”

“How do I feel?”

Sybil stood up, leaned over the bed frame, and pressed her finger to Persephone’s chest, pointing to her heart, “What do you want? Not what your mother wants, your father, not even King Hades. You, Persephone. What does Persephone Kore, goddess of growth, want?”

“I…” Persephone hesitated, “I don’t know.”

Sybil sat back down and leaned her chair back, nearly to the point of falling, “Think about it long and hard. It’s high time you started to think of yourself.”

“You make a compelling point, Trouble Bubble.”

“It’s where I get the name.”

Sybil smiled and finished her drink, rocking her chair back and forth. The problem child, ever so rebellious. Her hair was chopped short and a new color every week. She had jewels in places Persephone didn’t even know could be safely pierced. Her elbows always rested on the table; with no regard for table manners. Sybil was truly Persephone’s foil. And, maybe Persephone could learn something from her carefree nature.

--------------------

Persephone was sitting on the rose-shaped rug in her living quarters. It was her first time in the room so there wasn’t much to make it ‘hers’ yet but she really only needed it for privacy. Sybil’s words had stuck in her mind.

“It’s time you started to think of yourself,” She whispered.

There was no rule she couldn’t have the best of both worlds– almost literally. Hades was the first god she’d ever truly wanted to marry. The way he smiled at her made her feel things she’d never felt before and she wasn’t looking to give those feelings up– ever. She was sure her mother was merely scared on her behalf. As long as she was happy, she was sure her mother would be happy for her. And– hopefully, at least– it would be all’s well that ends well for them.

She took a deep breath and made a prayer, using a slice of leftover strawberry cake as an offering.

“Iris, goddess of the rainbow, messenger of the queen, I summon thee as I require your service.”

She kept her eyes closed for a moment longer before a soft voice spoke to her.

“Greetings, daughter of Demeter,” Iris said, picking up the plate of cake.

“Iris!” Persephone beamed, “Could you please get Aphrodite and Queen Hera for me? I’ve made my decision.”

Iris nodded and, with a flash of light, left. Persephone waited a few moments. Then, in her place, emerged Aphrodite, the queen of the gods.

“We came as soon as we heard,” Hera said, pulling out a chair to sit on.

Aphrodite clasped her hands together, “So? What did you pick?”

“I must stress that this must be entirely your choice,” Hera added, “If not, we will discuss this at a later date.”

“It is,” Persephone replied, “I didn’t even tell Hades I was thinking about it.”

“Carry on, then.”

Aphrodite sat cross-legged on the floor next to Hera’s chair, her elbows resting on her thighs and a smile across her face.

Persephone took a deep breath– she didn’t know why, she just felt the moment called for dramatic effect, “I’m going to marry Hades.”

Aphrodite squealed in delight and jumped up to hug Persephone, “I’m so happy for you, girl! We’ll get Apollo and Athena to make your dress and I can do your makeup and hair–”

Hera pulled Aphrodite off Persephone, “Don’t suffocate her, Aphrodite,” She turned to Persephone, “I’m glad you made your decision, Kore. Hades is a very lucky man to have you.”

Persephone blushed at that, “Thank you.”

Aphrodite sat in the chair Hera sat in before, “Honestly, I knew this was coming. I watched you guys on your date yesterday–”

“What?” Persephone sputtered in shock.

“Shh!” Aphrodite hissed, “As I was saying, I saw how you slept in his room, too.”

Hera turned to Persephone and raised an eyebrow.

“It wasn’t like that!” Persephone countered what the goddesses were implying, “We didn’t… You know.”

Aphrodite pouted exaggeratedly, “Really? Shame. I guess I didn’t ‘love you guys up’ enough.”

Hera shook her head. “Disregarding Aphrodite’s antics,” she said. Then she turned to Persephone and asked, “How do you plan to tell Hades?”

Persephone lowered her eyes, “I’m not so sure yet.”

Aphrodite leaned the chair she sat in back until her feet were barely touching the ground. She tapped on her chin and hummed as she thought.

“Oh!” She exclaimed, “Have you been keeping the roses he gives you– the ones from the letters?”

Persephone nodded, unsure of where her friend was going with this, “Yes, why?”

Aphrodite shot up, “Where are they? I have an idea!”

“The vase is in Sybil’s room.”

“Great! Let’s go!”

Aphrodite grabbed Persephone’s hand and dragged her down the stairs, down the hallway to the servant’s quarters, and into Sybil’s bedroom. Sybil was lying on her bed reading a book– or writing in it, it was hard to tell– and she shot up when Aphrodite swung the door open.

Aphrodite grabbed the vase, “We need these, thank you!”

She then skipped away. Persephone mouthed ‘sorry’ to Sybil as she closed the door behind her. She then followed Aphrodite up the stairs.

Persephone shuffled behind Aphrodite, pulling up her skirt so as not to trip on it. “What are you doing?”

“We’re making a bouquet!” Aphrodite beamed, opening the doors to Persephone’s bedroom.

She dumped the flowers on the ground, snapped her fingers, and spawned all the necessary materials to make a bouquet. She then gestured for Persephone and Hera to sit with her.

“A bouquet,” Hera said, intrigued, “An interesting choice, Aphrodite.”

“Kore’s whole thing is flowers,” Aphrodite replied, “It’s only appropriate. And so romantic!”

Aphrodite dramatically swooned at the word ‘romantic’, causing Persephone to chuckle. With a wave of her hand, Aphrodite transformed the wilted roses into her enchanted red-and-pink ones. The three then worked together to make the bouquet. Persephone took over the flower arrangements as she had plenty of experience from the king and queen’s parties– her mother handled food and Persephone was in charge of arranging flowers. It was her strong suit.

They finished the bouquet and Aphrodite made a (admittedly convoluted but fittingly Aphrodite-esque) plan.

--------------------

Hera had told Hades to meet her in the same park in the Elysian Fields where he’d originally proposed to Persephone to discuss matters she kept intentionally vague. Persephone, meanwhile, was with Aphrodite and trying to calm herself. She didn’t have any logical reason to be nervous, it was a sure ‘yes’. So sure that she hardly needed to ask. But this seemed like a better option than telling him ‘We’re going to get married’ so there she was.

Hades already looked vaguely confused as he approached Hera, who was sitting on a park bench, one leg resting on the knee of the other. She patted the spot next to her, and Hades reluctantly sat down.

“Shouldn’t meetings like this happen in my office?” Hades asked.

“It’s common knowledge that you spend all day cooped up there,” Hera replied, “I felt it would be a nice change of scenery.”

Hades fidgeted with one of the rings on his fingers. He could clearly see something was amiss but couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

“Well then,” He sighed, “Why did you call me here?”

“First of all, brother, I’d like to congratulate you.”

Hades raised an eyebrow, “Whatever for?”

And, without warning, Aphrodite shoved Persephone toward them– that was not a part of the plan. Persephone, now within Hades’ line of sight, smoothed her dress (beginning to second-guess wearing red. And her daisy earrings. And how she did her hair. She had a lot of regrets at that moment.), took a breath, and strutted toward the bench, trying to imitate Hera’s effortless grace.

Hades seemed to perk up when he saw her, although still confused, “Persephone?”

“Hades,” Persephone said, far more meek and quiet than she intended, “May I… Borrow you for a moment?”

Hades glanced at Hera, who nodded. He then stood and extended a hand that Persephone quickly swiped. She led him into the forest and saw his eyes widen– although, she was unsure whether in surprise or realization– as he saw how Aphrodite (with the swift help of Hermes and Apollo’s artistic touch) decorated the spring where she’d first bathed. And, frankly, she outdid herself. String lights hung between trees, lanterns lined either side of the spring, and there was a path lined with rose petals. Persephone couldn’t help but blush at how extravagant it was.

Persephone let go of Hades' hand, stepped in front of him, kneeled before him, and presented him with the carefully crafted bouquet.

“Kore,” He asked, “What is all of this?”

Persephone took a deep breath and held it for a while before she spoke, “King Hades, lord of the dead, son of Cronus and Rhea. You’ve charmed me with your undying hospitality and grace. You have made me feel a way I’ve never felt before and that wish to never live without again. And thus, I will gladly be your queen in this kingdom of ash and bone.”

Her heart beat at a rate she didn’t know was possible and there was a long stillness in the air that was obstructed by a breeze. Hades didn’t reply; he guided Persephone to her feet and accepted the bouquet. Persephone’s heart stung with the fear of rejection as Hades examined the roses, all neatly arranged with green paper.

“Did you make this?” He asked.

After all the silence, he still had yet to say anything about the reason they were there.

“Yes,” Persephone replied, once again softer than she would have preferred. “I used the roses you sent me with your letters.”

Hades looked away from the roses and down at Persephone, smiling. A genuine smile. She’d never seen him– or possibly anyone– so happy. He bent down and kissed her cheek but Persephone was nowhere near satisfied with that. She cupped his face in her hands and held it close to her own. His eyes widened and she could feel his anticipating breaths.

“Remember when we almost kissed here?” She asked, intentionally quiet this time. This moment was just for them.

“Yes, I do,” Hades replied, seemingly putting together what she was leading up to.

“How about we try that again?”

“Gladly.”

With that, their lips met. And, by the gods, it was just as– if not more– magical than she envisioned it. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he leaned into the kiss, moaning softly. His fingers ran through her hair and hers traced his jawline. In some sense of defying everything Persephone once thought to be true, her heart raced even faster. And as he pulled away, all she wanted was for him to kiss her again.

“It seems we have an audience,” Hades smirked.

Aphrodite giggled and emerged from amongst the brush, “You got me!” She squealed and clapped her hands, “That was so cute! I need Apollo to immortalize that moment in a painting or something!”

Persephone hid her face in Hades’ chest in embarrassment.

He stroked her hair soothingly, “We appreciate your enthusiasm, Aphrodite, but why were you there?”

“So I can remember it and tell Mnemosyne, and then she can tell Apollo– For a painting, okay?!”

“Very well, then. It can be your wedding gift.”

The smile on his face widened when he said ‘wedding’.

And, at that moment, she was sure that she loved him.

--------------------

After supper, Hera insisted on having a meeting with Persephone to discuss wedding plans. And Aphrodite insisted equally as strongly that she be included.

“And for dresses,” Hera said, a glass of wine in hand, “Obviously something extravagant is in order. However, I’d also suggest something easy to put on and take off.”

“Especially to take off,” Aphrodite said, winking.

Persephone sipped her ambrosia nectar, “What do you mean by that..?”

“You know… For the ‘afterparty’, if you know what I mean.”

“Aphrodite…” Hera turned to Persephone, “Although, yes. Hades would… Appreciate– if you will– something he could easily remove.”

Aphrodite leaned in closer, “Specifically for after all the festivities. When you’re both tipsy and you lock the door–”

“Stop!” Persephone blurted, “Stop. I know what you’re referring to. Can we just… move on?”

Aphrodite put her hands up, “Okay, fine.”

They spent the better part of the evening making plans and assigning jobs to other gods. It was mostly bridal things such as Persephone’s dress and accessories. After they finished, Hera closed the folder where she’d been keeping her notes, grabbed Aphrodite, and bid Persephone farewell.

Thus, she was alone in her room once more. And she was thoroughly tired from the day. She looked around the mostly desolate bedroom and felt the dull ache of loneliness in her chest. Then, she heard footsteps down the hall and the familiar voice of her new fiancé. He was talking to Hecate about something– she wasn’t sure– and had stopped in front of Persephone’s bedroom door. She hopped out of bed and opened the door. Their conversation halted when they saw her but that didn’t matter to her.

“Hades,” Persephone began, “I know it’s sudden and I am very grateful for my bedroom. But, may I sleep with you tonight?”

Hades smiled down at her, “Of course.”

He kissed her head and she rested it on his arm. She could get used to them being a couple. But there was always this gnawing at the back of her mind. Her mother.

Chapter Text

With the announcement of the king and Persephone’s engagement came a load of work for the servants. And, as queen-to-be’s handmaiden, Sybil bore the brunt of the work while Persephone was out getting situated in her new life as a noblewoman.

Sybil carried a load of silk fabric down the stairs to the basement to be washed. The stairs were old and run–down, creaking with every step. This, along with the missing step near the entrance, the increasing darkness as she descended, and the mile-high stack of fabrics blocking her view, made it Sybil’s least favorite place in the palace. She descended the stairs and opened the door.

“Hey, Cressida,” She said, setting down the basket of silk.

Cressida looked up from washing clothes, her golden brown hair in two low ponytails tucked behind her ears, “Oh, hey, Trouble Bubble! What are those?”

She pointed a soapy finger at the basket of fabric next to Sybil.

“It’s a bunch of fabric for Lady Persephone’s wedding dress,” Sybil leaned on the wall, “What are you washing?”

“Bedsheets. Damia’s girl got sick.”

Sybil grimaced and made a gagging noise. Cressida giggled and resumed her work.

“You’re lucky, Sybs,” Cressida said as Sybil began to ascend the staircase. “When they get married, you'll be in line for a promotion, especially since you’re on permanent stay now.”

“Thanks, Cress,” Sybil replied, smiling, “Being immortal is also a pretty good plus.”

“Make sure to let me know what ambrosia tastes like, okay?”

Sybil shot her a thumbs up and ran up the stairs. In hindsight, that was risky considering how fragile those wooden stairs were. Nevertheless, she made it upstairs without tearing a hole through the rotting wood. She then whistled her way down to the garden behind the palace, for the next thing on her ‘to-do’ list was to wash the ambrosia harvest.

She swung open the backdoor leading to the gravel pathway to the garden. Kicking a stray pebble as she walked past the fields and vine-covered trees, she hummed a song she’d heard in the distant past—at one of her mother’s parties. She couldn’t remember the words, but she did remember how much she enjoyed the sound of the lyre in the song, and thus, it was the one part she remembered.

She walked through the vine-covered, golden archway that led into the garden. In all honesty, it was mostly an orchard with the occasional rare flower that withstood the Underworld’s deadly aura. The majority of her workload before becoming a handmaiden consisted of watering the fruit trees.

“Oh, Sybil, you’re here already?” A familiar voice said, Leuce.

“Leuce, what are you doing?” Another nymph, Minthe, grabbed Leuce’s arm before noticing Sybil, “Oh.”

“Are you guys done picking godfruit?” Sybil asked, pointing to the basket Leuce held in her hands.

“No,” Minthe replied, “I thought you were busy with his majesty’s new doll.”

“No,” Sybil replied, disregarding the disrespect, “She’s busy with future-queen business. I’m here to help with the kitchen staff.”

“You’re free to join us,” Leuce said, gesturing further into the orchard.

Sybil agreed and followed them down the path deeper into the orchards. Trees of pomegranate and ambrosia alternated with nymphs harvesting on either side. They discussed the wedding the whole way there. Leuce had been tasked with helping Persephone design her wedding ring; Minthe was working on invitations.

There was a permanent scowl on Minthe’s face, her jealousy blatant. Minthe was the king’s ex-lover. Their relationship had ended only a month before Hades left for Olympus– a wedding was what Sybil had heard was the reason. The nymphs all assumed he had ended it because, knowing Minthe, she would have been eager to tell everyone exactly what had happened. However, when asked, she refused to say anything.

Leuce was also in a relationship with the king, long before Minthe was. And, by most standards, their relationship was far more serious than his with Minthe. When asked how things between them ended, she’d simply say that ‘people drift apart’ and ‘Aphrodite and The Fates didn’t have that in the plans for us’. Although, her death was likely at least part of it. Some had suggested that she’d had an affair with Thanatos– either before or after her relationship with Hades had ended– but they both wholeheartedly denied it. In fact, when one of the nymphs asked him, Thanatos laughed in her face. So, that theory went nowhere.

“The title ‘queen’s aid’ really fits you, Sybs,” Leuce said, pulling her light hair up into a bun.

“Are you sure, Leuce?” Minthe replied, pulling her dark green hair into a high ponytail, “Sybil’s never been much of a worker.”

Sybil scoffed, “You only work when the king’s around. So, I guess we’re in the same boat.”

Minthe rolled her eyes. Leuce, meanwhile, was busy picking ambrosia. The ambrosia trees always come back at you with a vengeance; they don’t take kindly to their fruit being stolen so, picking thorns from your hands is a major part of the process if you don’t wear thick gloves. Sybil hadn’t come to the orchard with the plan to pick the fruit and thus, she didn’t bring her gloves. She picked the thick thorns out of her palms with her teeth, leaving spots of blood in their wake.

“Don’t get your blood on the godfruit,” Minthe said. “The Olympians are going to be eating these.”

“I know, Minthe,” Sybil groaned, “I’m not dumb.”

“You two really need to stop arguing,” Leuce said, cutting the stem of the ambrosia with shears.

They both mumbled an apology and continued discussing wedding planning. Leuce and Persephone had already gone through five different stones with different cuts. Minthe complained about having to get stamps made, but she couldn’t work on invitations because the guestlist had yet to be finalized. Which Sybil had to admit was fair enough.

She washed her hands in a bucket of water and carried the basket full of ambrosia to the palace kitchen. The servants huddled around the kitchen island discussing the wedding menu, on which they had been given partial liberty. The head chef, Sabas, was in the middle, leaning over a notebook, brow furrowed. His blue hair was pulled into a small ponytail, the rest falling and framing his face, dark brown roots growing in from atop his head. The son of Poseidon, Sabas’ death was relatively calm, having accidentally consumed some toxic plant– he couldn’t remember much else– and had landed the job of chef in the palace after he’d made lunch for a few of Hades’ court members as a gift. However, most– including him– also believe that divine nepotism was at play, having been not only the son of an Olympian but the son of King Hades’ younger brother.

“Delivery!” Sybil called out, placing the basket on the countertop.

“Thanks, T.B.” Sabas replied, still hunched over his notebook.

“Maybe chocolate pudding?” Isadora, another one of the chefs, suggested.

Sabas shook his head, “We have enough desserts. We need another appetizer.”

“We also need more drink options!” Someone shouted from inside the pantry.

Sabas glanced at the basket on the countertop and snapped his fingers– something he did whenever he got an idea, “That’s it! Cocktails! Isadora, tell the garden that we’re going to need more ambrosia!”

Isadora nodded and skipped out to the garden. Sabas picked up the basket and began to wash the ambrosia in the sink. Sybil, meanwhile, rummaged through a cabinet, looking for something to snack on.

“So, what have you been up to, Trouble Bubble?” He asked.

Sybil cut open a pomegranate, “Nothing much. Wedding things.”

“Fair enough. Speaking of which, I should get back to work. See you around, T.B.”

Sybil nodded and Sabas placed the cleaned fruit on the counter and left to help one of the younger servants lift a stack of pots.

Another servant walked down the stairs, "Lady Kore called for you, Sybil."

Sybil continued snacking on pomegranate seeds as she walked up the stairs to Persephone’s chambers.

Something she’d learned in her years is that gods loved to show off their wealth. There was no practical reason the newel post and its cap were encrusted with diamonds other than to show off. And the amusing thing about that was the simple fact that Hades rarely has guests. The Underworld isn’t the most inviting place to throw a party and the king had never been much of a party person in Sybil’s eyes. It was the unnecessarily lavish things such as diamond-encrusted stair rails that showed his kingly status; something he likely didn’t think twice about.

She took a moment to admire the craftsmanship of Persephone’s door. The debossed flowers and vines curved around in swirls. Sybil knocked thrice on the door before opening it when she heard a ‘come in’ from inside. Hades and Persephone were sitting on Persephone’s bed– the two had been inseparable since the engagement– Hera, Aphrodite, and Hecate were across from them with color swatches and garlands, presumably discussing decor.

Sybil bowed, "You asked for me, goddess?"

Persephone clasped her hands together, "Ah! Sybil! I have a very special job for you!"

"Yes?"

"I have a letter for you to give to Hermes. I'd do it myself but... Wedding planning and all. But I want it to go to someone I trust."

Persephone gestured for Sybil to come closer, which she promptly did. Persephone then handed her a letter in a golden envelope that was sealed with a wax rose. Along with it, she gave her a basket of ambrosia, flowers, and candy.

"These are for Demeter, Kore's mother," Hades explained. "I already handled the invitations for my brothers but we felt she needed something more for... Personal reasons."

Sybil knew exactly what he was glossing over. The Olympian messenger was a major gossip and went on and on about the 'forever winter', as he called it, to anyone who would listen. Demeter wasn't all too happy about her daughter's abduction, as any mother would be, and was having, as Hermes said, 'a meltdown where nothing melts down'. Nevertheless, Sybil obliged, and took the items to the gates of the Underworld.

At the gates, she met with the messenger god. Behind him were a few disheveled death deities and a slew of souls. Hermes himself looked quite tired, his usual peppy attitude replaced with a strange aloofness in his divine eyes and a delay in his words.

“What’s going on up there?” Sybil asked, abandoning her usual routine when she spoke to beings above her.

“It’s Demeter,” Hermes replied as he unlocked the gates so the souls could make their way to the judges, “No harvest means no food, which means no life for the mortals.”

“With all the respect due to the mighty Zeus,” Sybil began, “Does the king even plan to help?”

“He better,” Thanatos replied, “The Keres and I have been working like dogs! Everyone’s either starving to death or getting killed for rations. We haven’t been home for ages.”

“I don’t mind,” one of the Keres said, “The girls and I have been eating well!”

Thanatos rolled his eyes and leaned on the gate.

“My father’s bound to notice eventually.” Hermes noticed the letter and basket Sybil held in her hands, “Delivery, Sybil?”

Suddenly, Sybil remembered why she was at the gates to begin with.

“Oh! Yeah, these are for Demeter,” Sybil said, handing the basket and letter to Hermes, “It’s her wedding invite.”

“Oh, she’s going to be pissed,” Thanatos said, lighting a cigarette– at least, that’s what she believed it to be; she only saw them in the Underworld.

“Well then,” Hermes said, “I’ll have these delivered in the blink of an eye!”

And with that, Hermes flew off, ever so slightly slower than his usual. Thus, Sybil’s work day had ended. The wedding inching closer with each passing day. And, by extension, her promotion.

Chapter Text

The heights of Olympus were still frigid, and neither Demeter nor the king backed down from their cold war. She paced around her living room, her icy daughter was sprawled over the sofa. Despoina, she called herself; she didn’t say much but seemed to enjoy wilting the crops in the fields. Normally, Demeter would be angered by that, but for what she was doing, it was quite the help.

“Oh, you’re back already?” Despoina said, lowering a book onto her chest.

She was young but had already developed a distaste for her mother, usually referring to her as ‘the goddess who birthed me’ or by name. Demeter felt guilty for abandoning her so she’d invited her to stay at her home on the foot of Olympus. However, at a certain point, she began to get tired of the disrespect.

Due to the circumstances of her birth, Demeter and Despoina weren’t particularly close. They were nearly as distant as a mother and daughter could be. She’d nearly wanted to vomit when Despoina was carried in by the north wind.

--------------------

“Is this yours?” He’d asked, young Despoina in his arms.

The dread of seeing that girl again washed over Demeter in a wave along with all the horrid memories of how she was conceived.

“N-No, get… get that girl out of here,” She’d replied, her voice shaking.

“Are you sure?” Boreas replied, setting the winter goddess on the ground, “She was pretty insistent that you were her mother. You were the only goddess who fit the description and she reacted to a painting–”

“Get that girl away from me!” She cried, audibly more shaken than she’d preferred to sound, “Go, tell Poseidon to deal with her. She’s his.”

He’d left after that, clearly wary of bothering the sea god. And, despite Demeter’s constant protests, the girl returned. And, unfortunately, Hera took a liking to the girl; thus, Demeter was forced to house the child she couldn’t bear to see.

--------------------

“Do you even want to be here?” Demeter asked, sitting next to her daughter.

Frankly, she hoped the answer was ‘no’ so she had a reason to get rid of her. She’d need the space when she got Persephone back.

“I don’t have anywhere else to go, do I?” Despoina replied, not looking up at her.

She paused for a moment, thinking something over.

“...Who was Kore, anyway?” She eventually spoke.

Demeter knew the question was bound to pop up eventually, she mentioned her older daughter every day, still distraught by her disappearance.

“She’s your sister,” Demeter replied; mumbling, her eyes lowered, “Much older than you. She was a harvest goddess, much like myself. The sweetest soul you could ever meet. I’m sure you’d love her if you met her.”

Despoina hummed in acknowledgment and went back to her book, her white eyelashes heavy on her face. It brought Demeter’s mind to Persephone’s blonde hair; it was most likely raven black by then and wilted straight by the Underworld. The thought opened a pit in her stomach, an abyss of grief and rage. Anger at her brother for what he’d done and dread for what her poor daughter must have been going through. Persephone was never the most headstrong girl, easily swayed. She’d be a goner if Hades had nefarious intentions– which Demeter was admittedly still on the fence about him having. She’d trusted her brother until that point. He was her favorite sibling for so long, that she told him everything. At times, it pained her to hate him as much as she did.

But she definitely hated him.

Demeter went about her day– although, there wasn’t much to do when there was no harvest to cultivate. She sat at her loom, although she was unsure of what to make. Then, she heard the flutter of wings and a familiar chuckle from outside.

Hermes flew in through the window, holding an elaborate basket and a letter in his hands, “Good day, Demeter! Quite chilly today, no?”

Demeter glanced at the items he held in his gloved hands, “What are those?”

“Delivery from the Underworld, darling!”

Demeter snatched the letter from Hermes and began to rip open the envelope, “Is it from Kore? Do you know?”

Hermes hesitated, “In a way, yes. Sort of.”

Demeter stopped and looked up at Hermes, “What do you mean?” She paused for a moment, “Is it from that bastard Hades?”

“... Maybe you should read that.”

Demeter ripped the envelope open, her excitement replaced by rage.

“He has some gall to contact me after kidnapping my daughter,” She snarled.

“About that… You should really read that letter.”

Demeter raised an eyebrow and opened the letter. With each word she read, her anger grew.

“He’s fucking marrying her?!” She yelled, startling Hermes, “Did you know about this?”

“W-Well, Iris mentioned it–” Hermes stuttered, “It was out of my control!”

Demeter pushed past Hermes, left out the door, and stomped her way up to the palace, shoving past various servants. When she reached the grand doors to the throne room she rammed past Iris, who Hermes swiftly helped up as he tried to chase after Demeter, calling after her.

“Hera!” Demeter yelled, once again slamming open the grand doors to the throne room.

The king and queen sat on their thrones reading their own invitations to the wedding, their daughter pouring them drinks.

“Now, Demeter,” Hera began, setting her letter down, ”I know what you’re going to say–”

“You let him marry my daughter?” Demeter shouted, the only thing that stopped her from grabbing Hera by the hair was Zeus, who sat beside her, reading his wedding invitation.

“Persephone seemed so happy there!” Hera replied, “And Aphrodite–”

“Of course! That little bitch! I’ll kill her–”

“Now, goddesses, settle down,” Zeus urged.

He sat Demeter down on a seat in front of the thrones, “Hermes, water.”

Hermes obliged and flew off. Zeus sat back down on his throne and rested his arms on the armrests, letting out a sigh. Demeter sat across from him, her arms crossed and her foot tapping on the ground, awaiting an explanation. Hermes returned with a glass of water, gave it to Demeter, and sat on the floor beside his father.

“Have a drink,” Zeus said, gesturing to the glass.

Demeter rolled her eyes and took a sip of water, “There, done.”

“Alright,” Hera said, clasping her hands together, “I spoke to Persephone personally. She was quite eager to marry him. And, I know he may not have been your choice for whom your daughter should marry, but he was hers.”

Demeter stood from her chair, “That doesn’t matter! He kidnapped her; stole her from her mother! How can you support that?”

“I don’t support that, I support them. And if you can’t, perhaps you’re better off not coming to the wedding.”

Demeter turned to Zeus, who was busy sipping his wine, “Zeus, she’s your daughter! Why am I the only one sane enough to see the issue here?”

“I gave him my blessing,” Zeus replied, “And if Hera is marrying them, it is out of my control.”

Demeter groaned, gripping her hair, “This is pointless!”

She stormed out of the room and down the halls to Aphrodite’s chambers. Aphrodite was standing outside the door talking to Apollo, presumably about that gods-forsaken wedding.

“Oh, hey, Demeter!” Apollo waved, “Something wrong?”

“Is this about Kore?” Aphrodite said, her voice the usual sickeningly sweet tone she always used.

“Yes, it is,” Demeter growled, “What did you do?”

“I did what I do best,” Aphrodite replied, waving Demeter off, “It was about time those two got married anyway. So, why not each other?”

“Are you serious?”

“You should have seen them! It was so cute!”

Demeter put her face in her hands and groaned. She shoved past Aphrodite and stomped down to her home. Opening the door, she saw Despoina sitting on the area rug in the living room, reading the wedding invitation.

“Who’s Hades?” Despoina asked, pointing to the letter.

Demeter snatched the letter from her daughter and ripped it in two, “No one important.”

Demeter dragged her feet to the sofa and slumped in her seat. This was genuinely the worst-case scenario. Out of all the things that could have happened, he managed to manipulate her daughter into marrying him. It made her sick.

Despoina sat next to her mother, holding the halves of the letter together, “Are you going?”

Demeter sighed, “Probably.”

Despoina hesitated, thinking something over, “... Can I come with you? It says here that you have a plus-one. That means you can bring someone with you, I think.”

“Yeah, it does,” Demeter replied, “Do you… really want to go?”

Despoina pushed herself into the corner of the sofa, wrapped her arms around herself, and looked away, “If you don’t want me to–”

“No, no. It’s fine!” In all honesty, that was her maternal instincts speaking. She would have preferred to have never seen her again, but she would never tell her that. “I’ll order you a dress.”

Despoina smiled slightly at that. Demeter set her hand on her daughter’s head and watched her relax to her touch, a stark contrast to the past, when she’d tense up or actively fight her off. Maybe if she couldn’t be happy for one daughter, she could be happy for the other.