Chapter 4 - The Parade

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After Hades deposited her in her room with the threat of chains if she left it again, she had fallen into a dreamless sleep before the burning embers of the fire. She awoke, jolting off the floor as someone pounded insistently on the door. Her heart leaped in her throat as the door rattled again. So far no one aside from Hades had come to her room and he certainly would not bother with the politeness of knocking. “Who is it,” her voice coming out in a strangled cough, suspiciously high even to her own ears. She cleared her throat and summoned the best imperious voice she could muster. She had heard Athena use it several times with great aplomb. “Who is it!” There, she thought with satisfaction.

“Good morning, your Majesty,” a woman’s voice called, “we are here to break your fast and dress you.”

It was morning then, Persephone thought, feeling her hopes dashed as she glanced about the room and saw it was as grey and lifeless as it had been the night before. She had spent the whole evening in this wretched place. How her mother must be worried!

She considered denying the woman entry, if she worked for Hades, she should not accept her help. And she certainly did not trust any servant that did his bidding. However, she was hungry and there was no reason to be rude to the poor woman, perhaps she was a prisoner, too. All here to serve the mighty Hades’ will, she thought angrily. And perhaps this morning there may be more light to see by than there had been last night, her heart beginning to quicken at the thought of freedom. She placed her hand on the large handle and twisted quickly, darting out of the room when an overly tall, enormously muscled guard pulled her back inside. Good Gods! He must be a giant, she thought as she stared at his tree like form. “We were warned you might do that. I have strict orders you are not to leave yer room, yer Majesty,” he grunted at her in a very giant like manner. She glared up at him as three women dressed as servants laughed and carried in trays laden with food, a large bundle of dresses and bottles of fragrant oils. They closed the door firmly behind them and her chance of freedom vanished with a soft thud. For now, she promised herself grimly, as she turned to watch her captors.

They seemed like ordinary women, humming happily as they went about their duties. In fact, she considered with narrowed eyes, watching as they laughed and smiled at one another, they seemed perfectly content, more content even than the servants she had known in her mother’s temple. Perhaps they were under a spell, she reasoned. It would be just like Hades to have a mindless palace of servants at his disposal. Persephone went closer, curiosity getting the best of her as they laid out breakfast on shining silver platters and steaming drinks filled with spices. Her mouth actually watered as fresh fruits were laid out, fruits from above ground! Her eyes greedily soaked up their vibrant colors, reds and purples and yellows and she could not help herself as she grabbed an apple and hungrily devoured it. Hades need not know how much she had enjoyed her breakfast. The elder servant watched with satisfaction and then tutted around the other women as they began to lay out items on her bed. Nibbling on the remnants of a particularly juicy grape, she stood to see what they were doing, when one of the women turned to her and deftly pulled off her tattered tunic. She let out a squeal and quickly covered her breasts, flushing. “Wh-What do you think you are doing?” She gasped outraged, grabbing desperately for her gown as it soared over her head and into the fire they had revived. “That is my only gown!”

The elder servant spoke again, sniffing her nose. “Your Highness is riding in the wedding parade today and that old cloth was not suitable to clothe a beggar, if you pardon. The whole Underworld will be there to see Hades’ Queen and he gave the strictest orders that you would require traditional clothing for the Chariot ride.”

“A parade,” Persephone said through clenched teeth, as one of the servants happily stoked the fire with the remnants of her gown. “Hades said nothing of this to me. You may tell him I am not interested in attending.”

“Oh, but you must,” the head servant replied with genuine distress. “The master made that very clear and the whole of the Underworld is expecting you. It is the event of the season. I expect you are overtired,” she said, nodding her head as though that settled the matter and with a snap of her fingers directed the two younger servants to the back of the room as she took a key from her waist to unlock an adjacent door, opening up into a smaller anteroom.

Persephone scowled at her, following behind, eyeing the belt of keys at the waist of the servant. Perhaps if she got close enough, she could snatch her belt. The servant placed her arms firmly at her hips and Persephone let out a huff of annoyance. “No, I am not overtired,” Persephone replied stiffly, “that is, I am tired but I --.” They were filling a small pond in the back of the room with fragrances turning the water a variety of colors, while steam rolled merrily off the top of the hot, bubbling water. It looked better than Olympus itself, she thought longingly. She lifted a hand to her hair and felt the mud and dirt caking it. What would be the harm of a bath? It did not do any good to be filthy and she did not have to tell Hades she savored it. It would be so nice to be clean again.

“There, there dear, nothing that a hot bath will not set right. In you go, your Highness.” And before she could hesitate further, three pairs of helpful arms slid her into the bubbling pool.

For a moment Persephone was submerged under the hot water and she felt a wild freedom in the quiet solitude as she looked up into the hazy world above. Down here no one could tell her what to do or what she should think. If only she were a bird or a fish, she thought longingly, far away from the will of Gods and the desires of men. Only once her lungs began to seize did she move her legs and shoot to the top of the pool. Ready hands waited and began to cover her hair with oils while another gently pulled her arms from the pool to smear creams on her person. They chatted happily, their voices drifting around her, and Persephone closed her eyes, slipping into a relaxed state. What bliss this was, she breathed with a sigh, feeling the hot water release the tension from her muscles. No different really than a bath at her home. She cracked one eye at the sudden mention of Hades’ name from one of the maids. Hmph, she thought sulkily, must he even intrude here in her bath.

“You seem quite content to serve my husband?” she inquired, addressing the older woman.

“Oh yes, my Queen,” as she began to work a comb into Persephone’s matted hair. He is a fair and honest master. I would not trade my services for any God above ground.”

“And how long have you served Hades,” Persephone questioned sulkily.

“Since my death, your Majesty. My family has served him for generations. These are my nieces you see here, Phoebe and Cleo. It is our privilege to serve him. Upon each of our deaths we enter into his service.”

She smiled at them and they smiled shyly at her. “And what is your name?”

“Jocasta if you please, my lady.”

“Jocasta is a lovely name. If it is suitable to you, while I am here, would you mind helping me?”

Her brows drew over her eyes at her phrasing, but she was too good a servant to question her Queen. “Oh yes, your majesty. And it was what my lord asked of me as well. He said I was to attend to your needs.”

Persephone felt annoyed at the mention of her husband’s name, but she could hardly find fault with Jocasta for that. “Well then, for once my husband and I are in agreement. It would be an immense help for me.”

Jocasta smiled her pleasure. “Just wait, my Queen, until you see the finery that you may wear today,” she began to wring the water from Persephone’s long dark hair, wrapping it tightly in a hot white cloth.

“I am not going to the parade, I am afraid I cannot--”

“Oh, the children will be so disappointed,” Jocasta said sadly, shaking her head, her grey curls bouncing. “They have little to look forward to down here.”

She felt her heart twist as one of the nieces extended their hands to help her from the pool. “Children?” she asked as she stood from the pool and a white towel was quickly wrapped around her.

“Oh yes, my lady. And they have been so looking forward to seeing you. They are orphans who await their parents to join them.”

“I did not think of children down here,” Persephone murmured quietly, feeling foolish at her lack of knowledge of this dark world. How selfish had she been that she had never given a thought to what may happen when a child enters Charon’s boat alone. Her entire life she had gone without any thought of the Underworld, content with the sunshine and peace of the meadows above. There were children alone here in this darkness. How could she deny them this pleasure when it was something so small for her to do --  just to be spiteful to Hades. “Very well, I will go to the parade. However, I do not wish to wear something too ostentatious. A simple gown will suit my needs.”

“Well, we’ll see about that,” Jocasta said with a smile. They began to dry her naked body vigorously. They moved her quickly back to her bedroom, a warm cloth wrapped around her. She surveyed the selections on her bed with horror. Several of the gowns were almost entirely diaphanous with only a few choice portions of fabric leaving any modesty at all. All of them had low cut necklines, some dipping as low as the navel! She threw each to the ground in growing dismay.

“No! No!” She repeated adamantly seeing the expression on Jocasta’s face. “I dressed simply at home and these are extravagant enough for Aphrodite to wear. I do not wish to dress in such an unclothed state. My bosoms may fall out of those gowns!”

“But your majesty there is no time, not if you will arrive at the parade on time.”

“I do not know what sort of women Hades typically parades about the Underworld,” Persephone stated with scorn.

“But your majesty,” Jocasta interrupted. “Hades does not parade any women. You are the first that has been in this palace.”

Persephone closed her mouth in surprise. “Never?” she asked in amazement.

“Never,” Jocasta emphasized with a firm nod of her head.

“Still, these dresses are not suitable.”

“I could I suppose manage to make a new dress but it would take several days. If you wish, of course we can arrange it, if you do not mind to make the people and the children wait who have been gathering since last night…”

“Oh very well then!” Persephone said reluctantly, feeling that she had been very adeptly and expertly managed when a contented smile creased Jocasta’s face. They debated which gown she should wear and finally Jocasta gave in letting her select the most demure of the gowns, which was not saying much.               

They dressed her in a sheer gown that shone like sunlight and was  embellished with flattened gold fragments and sparkling gemstones. As she stared at the bright beauty of the dress, she felt a painful longing to see the sun again, to feel its warmth on her skin. The neckline plunged low in the front and her small breasts were on full display, but it had been the most modest of the choices. The train of the dress drug behind her, trailing like the plume of a peacock’s feathers. The maidens kohl-rimmed her eyes, carefully curled her dark  hair with hot irons, and finally  placed a jeweled tiara of gold and diamonds on her head. After they surveyed their handywork, congratulating one another on her beauty, Jocasta knocked on the door lightly and the giant appeared again.

Persephone felt her heart quicken as she was led down the dark hall. She had been preparing herself to come face to face with her captor again and she needed to make it clear to him that the only reason she agreed to this parade was to please the children. It was certainly not to make a show of their mockery of a marriage. The gown she had borrowed was a necessary evil since her own was now merely ash in the hearth. She tugged uncomfortably at the neckline feeling a cold draft blow against her chest. Her breath caught when the giant led her through two large doors to a gleaming golden chariot that was just beyond them. Four enormous black stallions were at the front, pawing the ground with their large hooves. Their manes were intricately braided, and each was gilded with golden bridles. Her eyes, though, were not on the carriage, but rather on the man standing at the head. His broad back was to her and she watched as he fastened a blood red cape onto his black tunic, turning slightly so that he was in profile to her. Many of his servants were running frantically to and fro and one approached to consult with Hades,  who bent his head to listen. His dark hair slid over his forehead hiding his black eyes. In repose his lips looked soft and full and her stomach did a curious swoop as he bit down on his lower lip, and she remembered their kiss. How hot his mouth had been and how she had wanted to... she felt her cheeks redden when he suddenly turned to face her. His mouth had partially opened, but as he stared at her, an arrested look came over him and he lifted a hand to his wound as if it pained him. His chest was entirely covered by his tunic, but surely it had begun to heal? He was a God after all. Perhaps he was unsatisfied with her appearance, she thought with a frown.

She tried to pull discreetly at the neckline of the dress. “I picked the least offensive one.”

He blinked down at her, taking a moment to respond.  “What?”

“You are displeased with my choice, but the others were unacceptable--.”

“No,” he shook his head, stepping from the chariot, “no, you look beautiful.” For some reason his simple statement made her blush again which displeased her immensely. He handed the reins over to a servant, and as he approached, she saw small beads of sweat dotting his forehead. Was he still ill? Gods healed quickly from any injury, she knew that well. She remembered disobeying her mother as a child and playing on the rocks of a river.  She had fallen down a treacherous ravine and her blood had made the river red. By sunset though she had completely healed and her mother had never been the wiser. But Hades seemed to be too pale still and there were faint lines around his mouth. His injury was deep, but he was a powerful, ancient God and he should be entirely healed by now. Perhaps she should look at his wound.

“Hades,” she said slowly, “this parade does not have to be today.”

His mouth curved as he looked down at her and he lifted his hand to her. She hesitated a moment before placing her smaller hand in his and felt his long fingers curl around her own.

“And disappoint the whole Underworld? Everyone is longing to see the beautiful Goddess of the Forest.” He led her back to the chariot, helping her up. He joined her in the small space and leaned closer to her. “Hold on tightly. All that is required of you is to smile and wave. They only want to see you. As I do.”

Feeling uncomfortable with his gaze and confused by his words, Persephone leaned forward to stroke the flank of one of the horses. She could sense their anxiety of the large crowd which must be gathered outside the gates, and she sympathized.  She knew the feeling all too well. Persephone stiffened as she felt him press closer behind her. He grabbed her arm and opened her palm, wrapping her fingers around an apple.

“Orphnaeus loves apples,” he whispered in her ear as though telling her a great secret, nodding his head towards the horse. She leaned closer and let Orphnaeus gently eat the apple from her hand, smiling at his enthusiasm. She glanced over her shoulder and saw that Hades, too, was smiling at him and her heart seemed to stutter.

“And how long will this parade take?” she asked coldly.

He stepped away and took his place at her side and she felt a moment’s disappointment at the absence of his warmth. Warmth, she scoffed at herself, he was the God of the Dead, not Apollo. Perhaps she truly was losing her mind. Perhaps Jocasta had poisoned her.

“Just several hours, I presume. And afterwards there will be the dance, of course, and then you may retire for the evening.”

Persephone had been concentrating on watching his strong pale hands grasp the gleaming reins, but her head jerked up at his words. “A dance!” her voice high pitched. “I was never told anything about a dance!  I do not wish to attend.”

“You will attend, my Queen,” he demanded. “This is not a request.”

“Then do me the courtesy of delaying it, I am not prepared!”

He calmly looked down at her “No.” They stared at each other as Persephone felt her body tighten with anger. Just when she thought there was an ounce of kindness in him, he proved again his cruelty.  Was nothing to be allowed to her? He smiled as though reading her thoughts, her quiet rage seeming to please him.

“Does my anger amuse you?” she bit out coolly between her teeth.

“I must own it is rather refreshing. Few have the courage to express their dislike for me so outright. I find your obvious hatred rather charming,” he said contentedly.

She turned to face forward, staring at the iron doors ahead. “I am glad I amuse you,” she said indifferently. If she had to look at him, she might attack him, and the price for attacking a God was Tartarus. Charon would toss her in the hell fire and throw away the key, probably with a grin on his macabre face.

Feeling his eyes on her, she heard Hades ask, “Is everything ready Alessandro?”

“Yes, your highness!” cried a curly headed young man.

“Very well, let us proceed.” With a shake of his hand the horses stepped forward suddenly.

The carriage jolted and Persephone reached out, grabbing Hades’ arm to keep from falling, feeling the solid muscles beneath her grasp. She let go as quickly as possible and grasped tightly to the chariot, her knuckles turning white over the edges. She was unused to standing in chariots, she and her mother had never had cause to be the focus of these lavish parades. The humans that sought them bowed to the land for tribute, not to them.

“Be careful, my sweet one.” He wrapped her hands more tightly around the handles of the chariot. “Oh, and Persephone?” The stiffening of her back was her only acknowledgement to his inquiry. “There can be no misbehavior today. My subjects cannot know their God is cursed.”

Her only response was stony silence.  As the chariot stopped behind the iron gates, she could feel the tension building on the other side of the doors like a cork that was ready to burst out of a bottle. The horses were becoming uneasy and they shook their manes anxiously.

Hades looked at her with a wicked smile and said, "Get ready." She furrowed her brows at his words, the Underworld could surely be nothing compared to the opulent decadence of Olympus. Did he think her completely oblivious to the ways of the Gods?  He lifted his hand and whispered "Elysium," and as the iron doors unlocked and opened, a blinding light poured through the dark, heavy gates.

Persephone’s heart beat uncontrollably as she lost her grip on the rapidly moving chariot, her eyes temporarily blinded by the sudden flash of light. Thunderous booms of applause and cheers from the crowd were so loud they sent a wave of sound that pushed her back, and panic overtook her as she felt herself stumble blindly.  A strong arm at her back steadied her and she felt his mouth at her ear, “It will pass soon, the light blinds everyone at first. Hold tight.” And once again she felt his hands placing her own firmly on the chariot. As her vision began to clear, Persephone was not prepared for what she saw. It was a sea of thousands upon thousands of people, so many that she could not make out their blurred faces as they raced by. Golden confetti and rose petals rained down on them and Persephone felt her feet slip as the floor of the chariot began to fill. Everything seemed to be in slow motion as the scenes passed swiftly by her. She was unaccustomed to such a massive gathering, she was a creature of the forest; the swarm of people caused panic to rise up in her chest. Black dots began to dance across her vision as her breath came rapidly.

“Persephone,” she heard Hades voice distantly. “Persephone,” he said more firmly. He glanced at her. “Look at me.” She looked at him with wide eyes, her dilated pupils making them appear black. His hands were relaxed on the reins as he extended one hand to her hair and tugged gently. “Breathe. I will not let you fall.” He gave her a sideways grin, “Smile and wave. This will be over soon.” She nodded at him, calmed somehow by his composure, and she discreetly wiped at the sweat on her forehead as she pasted a smile on her face. She began to wave to the crowds as they passed, and they exploded with a thrill of excitement at the acknowledgement by their queen. Persephone was astounded as the crowd began to chant Hades’ name, and when he raised his hand the chanting intensified to deafening levels. She would never have believed it, but the people of the Underworld seemed enchanted by their surly God. Persephone glanced over at Hades to see his reaction and caught her breath. Standing next to her was not the cold King of Death she had met the night before, but in his place was a smiling, devastatingly beautiful God looking benignly, even lovingly, on his people. She felt her treacherous heart soften at his smile and when their eyes met, she could not help but return a shy smile of her own. She looked away quickly and noticed a large group of children cheering wildly to her right.

“Oh, stop the chariot, please!” she cried.

Hades drew back on the reins. “These are the Orphans of the Underworld - they are still waiting for their parents to join them. You wish to meet them?”

She nodded eagerly. “Yes, I would very much like that.”

He laid a hand on her arm preventing her from exiting before him, and he jumped down to assist her. Hades took her hand and led her to the large group of children. The crowd parted before them, his subjects bowing as they passed. The children bowed too as they saw the royal couple stand before

them and Hades quickly went to his knees. Persephone tried to hide her surprised gasp; she had never seen a God take a knee to a mortal before, certainly not to human children. She would have thought a group of orphans would be below the notice of a God such as he. She could not imagine Zeus showing such compassion. Persephone watched in astonishment as he gently took the hand of a little girl and brought her back to her feet. “You have no need to bow to me, little one. What is your name?”

“Agnete,” she replied in a quiet, shy voice, a blush infusing her cherubic face.

“Sacred one. A perfect name for you. You are new here.” The little girl nodded. He stood up, lifting the child in his arms. “I would like for all of you to meet my Queen, Persephone. She especially wanted to meet all of you. Can you tell her hello?”

A chorus of cheerful greetings rang in her ears and the crowd around them cheered wildly as some of the children broke into animated dances. She caught the eye of several smaller girls staring up at her with awed faces.

“Hello,” she replied with a smile. “I would very much like for you all to call me Persephone.”

A girl with small blond ringlets ran to her, hugging her legs tightly and Persephone sunk to her knees returning her hug. Encouraged by the reception of their friend, the children rushed towards Persephone gently touching her dress and hair and taking their turn for hugs.

“You’re pretty,” a dark-haired girl giggled at her.

“Thank you,” Persephone smiled back at her. “I had a lot of help today.”

The little girl placed her hands on Persephone’s knees and stared earnestly into her face. “Is Kýrios Hades your husband?” At Persephone’s nod they looked at her with wonder. “We think Kýrios Hades is very handsome. Don’t you?” Many small faces looked at her expectantly and she felt her face grow hot as she risked a glance at Hades. Of course, he was listening, a smug smile on his face as he tossed a ball back and forth with Agnete and several little boys.

“Yes, his majesty is very handsome. But handsome is as handsome does I’m afraid.” She shot him a quick look under her brows, and to her annoyance saw he merely continued to look amused.

“Oh no, Queen Persepine!” the child exclaimed loudly.

Persephone hid a smile at the pronunciation of her name, she rather liked it actually. The little girl crawled into Persephone’s lap and gazed up at her with a frown on her little face.

“Kýrios Hades is the kindest master. We have many visitors and toys and we never want for anything. He told us that we would never be lonely here. We are happy that he has you, and so neither of you will be lonely now!”

Persephone shifted her eyes from the sweet gaze of the child, turning her head away. If it were only as simple as that, she thought sadly.

They sat and talked for a while longer until Persephone felt Hades’ hand at her shoulder.

“We must go, Persepine.” She tilted her head back and looked into the laughing black eyes of her husband and could not help her reluctant smile.

When she glanced at the sad little faces, she felt her heart contract. “Can we not stay a bit longer?”

Hades shook his head. “There are many others anxious to meet you. We can return to visit your new friends again soon and better yet, next time we will bring presents!” At that news, the orphans let out several hearty cheers and rushed toward Hades, and Persephone actually giggled as she saw him stumble slightly at the combined weight of all the children.

Hades finally broke free and strode towards Persephone, gently lifting the little girl off her lap. With a movement of his hand he produced a perfect miniature replica of Orphnaeus, golden bridle and all. The little girl squealed with delight and hugged the toy tightly to her chest.

“We will see you again soon, Cora.”

Persephone watched with wonder. Did he truly know all these children?

“Come again soon, Persepine,” her new friend cried as Hades set her carefully on the ground and took Persephone’s hand in his own while Cora took her other one. The little girl accompanied them all the way to the carriage, and Persephone continued to wave until, looking back, Cora became a small dot in the sea of humans.

They pressed on and the crowd seemed endless. Persephone focused on smiling at the blurred faces as they passed instead of the tall God standing so closely next to her. She felt hot and flushed and exhausted. Hades confused her, and every moment she spent in his company seemed to contradict everything she had thought about him. Who was he underneath his dark mask? She had heard him mentioned only rarely by the other Gods and always in hushed tones. She had heard whispers of his wickedness, but it was hard to recall the details. If only she had paid more attention to the lurid gossip of Olympus. She had not imagined the trace of fear his name seemed to inspire even amongst the Gods. He had never attended any of the lavish parties at Mount Olympus. Was he unwelcome? Or did he simply hold such contempt for his heavenly counterparts that he could not bear their company.  Her mother had certainly never mentioned him. He said he was cursed now, but what did that really mean? The fact remained that he had forced her into a marriage she did not want, but still… she could not continue to believe that there was not a small trace of good within him. But perhaps, the most surprising thing was, he did not seem to know it himself. She broke from her reverie as she noticed little green leaves that were now mixed in with the confetti. Persephone bent to pick up one of the glossy, green leaves and examined it. She was unfamiliar with this type of plant. Hades looked over as she studied the leaf closely. Did she imagine it or did his mouth tighten as she fondled the little leaf in her fingers?

“What are these leaves?” she asked.  “I do not recognize them.”

“Those are the leaves from the pomegranate tree. It is the tree of the Underworld.”

“How curious that a plant should only grow here in the Underworld!”

She watched as Hades shrugged and if she did not know better, would have thought he was anxious to change the subject. “We draw to the end of the parade, now we enter the celebration,” he continued. “Your night of misery will soon be at an end and you can then return to your room to hide from the world.”

Persephone pinched her lips together. And just like that she was reminded of why it was so easy to dislike him.

Hades led the horses into a large courtyard and the shouting voices seemed to dim suddenly. Persephone gave a gasp of pleasure as she looked up. The courtyard sky shone brighter than starlight and the lights above twinkled and blinked merrily back at her. How were stars possible in the Underworld? She longed to ask Hades, but after his short dismal of her before, she did not want to give him the satisfaction. She could ask Jocasta later. The chariot drew to a halt and once again Hades leapt down and extended his hand to her, gazing steadily at her. Despite the light all around them, his eyes somehow remained inky black, as though no part of him would ever consent to allow lightness to reach him. A small smile lit his mouth as though reading her thoughts.

Taking a step closer, he murmured, “Are you ready my queen, to dance with the damned?”

Taking a deep breath, she placed her hand in his. Hades felt his heart swell as he looked at his beautiful wife and he resisted putting a hand to his aching chest. Looking at her seemed to make the blood from his wound run more freely, and her perceptive eyes saw far too much. As she placed her delicate hand in his own, he felt a thrill of pleasure all the way to his groin at that small, innocent touch and though his heart soared, his mind was deeply troubled. He needed no more reason to long for his queen, but this arrow seemed to have driven an obsession into his very soul that he could not fight. He felt it growing with every breath he took. With every pump of his heart the infatuation grew and it flowed through his veins like a sickness -- until he could think of nothing but her, consumed with the very thought of her. If she knew what he was thinking she would throw herself into Tartarus and never look back, he mused with a grim smile.

As he led her closer to the large dancing chamber the sound of voices increased, and he felt her hand clasp tightly on his own. His wife did not enjoy crowds. She was not acknowledging him at the moment which was a blessed relief. When she smiled at him, he thought his heart might burst through his chest all together. She was foolish to let her guard down so quickly. Far too trusting, even of him, who had just forced her into marriage. Her mother had done her no good by sheltering her so fiercely.  He needed to try to keep her at a distance until he found a way to get some control over his urges. There must be some way to delay the curse of that damned arrow! But right now, all he could think about was ripping that golden gown off of her pale skin and devouring her, crowded ballroom or not. The thought of what lay beneath that thin fabric made him painfully hard and Hades let out a dark curse letting her hand fall. He felt her gaze on him and he determinedly looked away from her.

“You may proceed me into the chamber. They are waiting for you after all,” he stated coldly.

He glanced at her and saw a look of trepidation cross her face, her large eyes luminous in the lighted garden. She thought he was cruel. So be it -- that was better than her seeing the crazed, lust-filled beast that seemed to lurk too close to the surface, shouting at him to take what was his. He quickly looked away from her lovely, innocent face.

“Very well,” she replied, failing to hide the slight tremor in her voice.

Head held high, she turned on her heel and headed for the lighted doorway, her long dress trailing after her, leaving him alone with his unwanted carnal thoughts. He watched her rigid back for a moment and then hurried after her like a lovesick youth.

“They will adore you,” he leaned to whisper close to her and she gave a small jump.

“Stop doing that!” she hissed at him.

He gave a small smile at her scowl, pleased to see the fear on her face replaced with annoyance. He never wanted her to be afraid. As they approached the door, two servants opened it wide and the music poured from the room. Hades pressed his hand to her narrow back, his hand tingling at the touch of her skin.

“In you go,” he murmured and gave her a gentle push.

The large dancing chamber was filled with more of his citizens and as a servant announced their arrival, Hades grasped Persephone’s hand and brought her swiftly to the center of the floor. She looked around, distracted by the cheers that echoed too loudly in her ears. She hated this. She hated the noise and the press of bodies too tightly against one another. It reminded her too much of Olympus. But no, that was not right, she thought as she glanced around more carefully. The people here smiled with genuine pleasure, and as far as she could see, there were no orgies ongoing in the crowds. Just smiling happy faces -- pleased to see their King. So, maybe not like Olympus after all.  She just missed the solitude of her forests, she thought sadly.

Hades gave a nod of his head to one of his servants and it must have been a signal because the guests quickly began to organize and form a line of procession. The line seemed to stretch endlessly and one of the servants announced each citizen’s name loudly as they took their turns bowing to their King and Queen. A maiden, a soldier, a fisherman, a craftsman, so many she could not remember them all, but Persephone watched them closely as they greeted her and saw no trace of fear or misery in their faces. Why were they so content here, she wondered? As they offered their wishes for their jubilant union she nodded and made polite remarks, a smile firmly on her face even as her head began to ache fiercely. Finally, the last of the crowd approached them, and as they stepped away the lights dimmed, and Hades and Persephone were left alone on the center floor.

“Just follow my lead,” he said quietly watching her. “This will be over soon.”

Hades whirled her around the ballroom, and he was surprisingly light on his feet. Persephone had always loved to dance, albeit in the meadows with a badger often as her partner. She had to admit he was a much better partner than the poor badger that she had forced to join her. Soon the noise in the background faded away as she let her feet follow his. They did not speak to each other, but Hades eyes never left her own and she let the rhythm of the dance take over. As he spun her around the room his feet faltered for a moment, and pain flashed in his eyes.

“Is something wrong?” she asked with concern.

He shook his head, looking into the crowd now, avoiding her gaze once again.

“Keep dancing,” was his only response.

With a nod of his head the lights dimmed, and other couples took their cue joining them on the floor. The room moved as one as they took the same steps as their King and Queen. The dance of the dead she thought, suppressing a giggle. It was a moment before she noticed her hand was wet. She tried to take her hand from his, but he tightened his grasp almost painfully. She glanced down and gave a small gasp. Blood

had covered both of their hands and dripped steadily onto the floor below them.

“You are bleeding still!” she asked, aghast at the amount of blood he was losing.

“Hush,” he said with a tinge of anger in his own voice. “Now is not the time to discuss this.”

“Have you been bleeding all day?” she queried, returning his tone.

“It is not your concern, Persephone,” he replied coldly, not doing her the courtesy of meeting her gaze.

She opened her mouth to reply that she was his wife and then shut it abruptly. Did she want him to think she accepted their vows? She must tread carefully. He was right, he was not her concern. If he bled out all of his immortal blood, it was none of her business.  But why did that thought cause her heart to tighten painfully? She closed her eyes as she felt the blood trickle down her arm. How much blood could a God lose? Finally, the dance ended, and the crowd gave a thunderous applause as Hades and Persephone bowed to them.

A chant began to echo through the hall and Persephone felt her body stiffen as she understood their words, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

Finally he met her gaze and he did not bother to hide his smile.

“An old custom, I am afraid,” he whispered to her. She felt her heart quicken as he leaned closer to her and she closed her eyes inhaling his alluring scent. “And one I think we can dispense with today.” She felt his chaste kiss on her forehead and if she was disappointed, she kept any expression of it from her face. The crowd seemed pleased and with another bow, Hades took her arm and led her from the room back into the coolness of the night.

Persephone watched Hades furtively as the chariot moved through the gathering darkness. The crowds had dispersed, and no sound broke the silence save the wheels of the chariot moving swiftly over the land. The shadows moved lovingly over the angles of his dark face and he seemed to become one with the darkness. Was he playing games with her? Sometimes it seemed as though he could not even stand the sight of her, while at other times he seemed to constantly be touching her, watching her with his dark eyes. What was the truth?  Perhaps he truly hated this curse as much as she did, and she was a burden. She always seemed to cause trouble wherever she went. Her poor mother could attest to that. He certainly did not seem anxious to touch her now, he stood as far away from her as the space of the chariot would allow. Persephone watched as the wheels ran over the rose petals and confetti, carelessly crushing the lovely colors to dust. For some silly reason the sight of it caused her eyes to fill with tears and she averted her face. She felt his hand on her shoulder and she shook it off angrily. Why was he so attuned to her slightest moods when she could never tell what he was thinking?

“You must be pleased with my compliance today,” she said bitterly.

He said nothing and she huddled against the edge of the chariot. She glanced again at him and felt a sudden wild compulsion to attack him, to rake her fingernails down his handsome face until… until what?  Her head pounded relentlessly, and she gripped the edges of the chariot to keep herself from moving as she stared sightlessly ahead of her.

The horses rode through the massive gates and she watched as the sun was eclipsed by the darkness of the Underworld. Wanting to cry out for the sun's warmth, she turned to see the doors shut behind her. It was as painful as seeing an animal in the forest close its eyes with the wretched exhale of death.  She wanted to beg her husband to leave her behind, but she knew that pleading was useless. Charon was waiting at the doors and Hades stepped down from the chariot to speak with him in quiet tones she could not hear. He turned to his wife with expressionless eyes and helped her from the chariot. She ignored the blood that covered her hand. “Meet me in my study" was all he said and after that, left with the river bearer. And she was once again left alone in the darkness.

Jocasta appeared and swept Persephone into the palace. She tutted at the state of her dress and she was allowed to wash her face while Jocasta repinned her hair. She was then taken to Hades’ study, accompanied once again by her giant friend. As the door closed firmly behind her, she surveyed Hades’ private room. It was intimate and lavishly furnished. Persephone moved to the open windows and saw that the view looked out over three rivers. She watched the gently churning water for a moment before she turned and gave a sigh of pleasure at the many books she saw tucked away in black marble shelves. Did he pass his nights reading? The thought surprised her but many of the books looked well worn. The fireplace carved from ruby emitted a dancing blue flame that warmed the chill she had felt since the end of the parade. Various forms of weapons hung on the walls and she touched the hilt of a long sword and wondered if Hades ever had cause to use them. She could imagine him coldly cutting down a man, she thought with a shudder. A golden helmet sat on a large ruby desk and she went over to inspect it when a glittering scroll caught her eye. She lifted the parchment and saw it was filled with names, it was a list of souls to be judged and the paper unfolded past her feet. How horrible to have to pass judgement over so many people. She imagined it would weigh heavy on one’s heart, even a cold one like Hades, to have to determine how a soul would spend eternity. The good and evil

in a person were often separated only by thin lines and sometimes the Gods dealt unfair hands. Rolling the paper up, she studied the rods which were adorned with gold and precious gems which shone brightly in the firelight. She sat the scrolls down next to a vase covered with jeweled flowers, and as she ran her fingers over the sharp stone petals, she felt a deep sorrow. His palace was adorned with riches, but it was hard, cold and lifeless. A chill from the window blew through the room and she shivered, walking to the fire to warm herself. Her head throbbed fiercely and the muscles in her face were tired from the smile she had worn all day. Her chest had a dull ache in it, and she rubbed at the pain absently. What a pleasure the quiet was after the continual noise of today. She wrapped one arm against a nearby column and leaned against it, closing her eyes.

“You must be tired,” a deep voice said behind her. She straightened immediately but kept her back to him. She gave her best attempt at a careless shrug and kept her eyes on the flames, resisting the urge to look back at him.

“Oh, are you not talking to me again?” She heard him step closer to her and she watched furtively from the corner of her eye as he poured them both a glass of wine. He approached her carefully, like one would a wild animal in the forest, not coming too close. “Perhaps we can have a temporary ceasefire for now?” he asked, extending her a glass. “I find that, I too, am tired for the moment. I have things I wish to say to you.”

She hesitated and then took the glass from him, sipping it as she watched him over the rim. “What things?” she asked reluctantly. Her curiosity had always been one of her worst qualities. Her mother had warned her about it many times.

Hades smiled and motioned to a nearby daybed and she walked over, making herself as small as possible in the corner. She suppressed a small shiver, and with a stern glance, he unfastened his cape draping it over her. Of course, he had noticed, he noticed everything in his domain. And she was just another sparkly trinket to add to his collection, she thought bitterly. She considered throwing his cape into the fire, but it just seemed wasteful since she was still rather cold.  He sprawled on the far end of the settee, extending his long legs with a sigh. She averted her eyes from his tall form and rubbed her chest again and he followed the movement with narrowed eyes.

“Are you in pain?”

She immediately dropped her hand and gave him a withering gaze. “I am not the one with a hole in my chest.”

He smiled at her, “True,” he said. “And for that I am grateful.” He raised his glass to her and sipped from his goblet, staring deeply into the flames of the fire.

She drank from her glass, studying him carefully, mesmerized by the way his throat moved as he drank deeply from his cup and the grasp of his long fingers as they wrapped around the stem of the goblet. He lowered his glass slowly and licked a small drop of wine that trailed down his lower lip and she felt a slow warmth in her belly as she followed the movement with her eyes. His gaze suddenly bore into hers, and he smiled knowingly. Flushing, she quickly looked away and pretended to be fascinated with a loose thread on the chaise -- but it was too late. He knew. Damn him, he knew. She felt her cheeks flame, ashamed at the turn of her thoughts for a man she did not even like.

“We are ill suited,” she said with aplomb.

“And why is that?” he asked casually, standing up to pour another glass of wine.

With his back to her she found it easier to speak. “Well, aside from that small fact that I was forced to marry you, I was trying to remember anything I had heard about you. And I was able to recall a few stories.”

“Ah, stories,” he drawled as he resumed his seat. “I do love a good story.” He leaned towards her and she resisted the urge to scoot further away. He clinked their glasses together and then leaned back again. She took a small sip. “And tell me, my sweet wife, what do the other Gods whisper about me when they are high on the mountains of Olympus?”

When she found that she was able to look at him coolly, she saw that shadows danced angrily in his eyes, those black eyes that held such secrets. She hesitated.

He prodded, “Come now, are you such a coward that you cannot  finish your tale?”

She sat up bristling and looked him directly in the eye. “They say you are cruel. That you are depraved. That you sought your position in the Underworld for riches and unyielding power over the souls trapped for eternity.”

“And what else do they say?” he asked casually, turning his goblet in his hand.

“That you are treacherous, manipulative and unlovable.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them.

She felt a sinking feeling in her chest, but she could not take the words back. For a moment she imagined a flash of emotion other than anger in his dark eyes, but it was gone before she could interpret it. He drank silently from his glass and she sat uncomfortable in the silence. Those words were the malicious whispers of the most depraved Gods she had known. Who were they to pass judgement over anyone? And she was no better for having repeated their gossip. She felt shame at her carelessness.

“Hades,” she began, but as she spoke he stood up, moving towards the fire. She watched as he stoked it, causing a log to crash into the embers below where it was consumed quickly by an inferno of blue flame. Hades turned around suddenly and leaned against the hearth, the light placing his face in shadow.

“And does my wife believe everything she hears on the great Zeus’ mountain?”

“Your wife,” she replied hotly, “believes that sometimes there is a grain of truth in gossip. But she makes up her own mind.”

He did not reply and instead watched her from the shadows, the blue flame dancing behind him. She could feel his eyes on her and she wondered what he was thinking.

“I said I had things to tell you.”

“About the curse?” she asked.

“In a way,” he replied slowly. “But it starts before that.” Persephone sensed his hesitation.

“But it all comes back to the curse,” she replied angrily, “It is the only reason I am here and the only reason we are having this senseless argument.” She stood up and began frantically pacing. “You do not even love me. It is only a spell that makes you believe that you do.” She put a hand to her chest, the throbbing driving her mad, but she was too incensed to notice that Hades grasped at his own heart simultaneously.

“Is that what you think, Persephone?” he asked quietly.

She stopped and looked down at the cold metal ring on her finger and said coolly, "That is what I know."

His eyes grew soft as he took a step towards her, "Persephone, I…"

There was a knock on the door, and Charon entered the room and uttered in a strangled voice, “Ares wishes to speak with you.”

Hades watched as his wife’s face turned pale, “It seems we have a visitor,” he stated, “We will continue our conversation at some later point. Charon, take Persephone to her room.” He looked back at his wife, her lips bloodless as she stared back at him. "Lock her door. And this time, bring me the key." He waited a moment expecting her to protest, but she merely stared at him with large, frightened eyes. He had asked too much of her today and of course Ares would choose this day to try and threaten him. He stepped closer to her but did not touch her. “Go to bed, Persephone. Tomorrow we can argue.”

Persephone watched as Hades left the room. She found that fear seemed to have driven the power of speech from her. She went to the sofa, her fingers trembling as she bent to retrieve his cape, and on a whim, placed her hand where he had been sitting. She felt her heart sink as it came back red with his blood.

Hades walked towards the throne room feeling his blood pump angrily through his veins. Ares thought to come to his kingdom and to scare his wife? He had not missed Persephone’s terrified look and it was time someone taught Zeus’ spoiled son a lesson. He threw open the doors to his throne room and Ares, the God of War, sat on Hades’ throne polishing a dark stain from the edge of his sword. He stayed seated as Hades entered, his blond hair comely against his dark military garb. He shone like a beacon of light in the greyness of the Underworld, but one merely had to stand a little closer to smell the blood that could never be washed away fully from Ares’ flesh. Hades may be the God of Death, but it was Ares that laughed gleefully when their souls were ripped mercilessly from their human forms. He gloried in the misery of humans.

“Get up,” Hades said silky.

Ares paused a moment and then stood stretching his tall muscular form. “I have been seated too long waiting for you to return from your corpses.” He turned suddenly and pointed his sword at Hades, flinging back his golden hair as he assumed what he clearly considered an heroic pose. Hades thought he looked like a pompous ass. “Where is she?” Ares cried.

“She is not your concern.”

Ares’ perfect face twisted with rage. “You take my soldiers’ lives, deplete my armies - and now you take that which is mine. Persephone was promised to me! She is mine!” Ares began to circle him. “Mine to fuck, mine to use, to bear my sons. You sit down here, alone amongst the corpses I send you. You are no God. You probably cannot even get a stiff cock from anything with a pulse.”

Hades smiled slowly into the God’s enraged face. “You have always been a spoiled boy, Ares. Your father and mother set no boundaries and so you think the whole world exists to serve only your whims. You find pleasure in cruelty and the pain you inflict on others. You play with mortals who have no choice but to obey your perverted demands. Persephone was never yours. She belongs only to herself.”

Ares spat on the floor. He snapped his fingers and a flame lit on his palm forming the shape of a naked woman with long chestnut hair. The light cast a shadow about the room of a monster devouring its prey, “How was your wedding night?” he sneered, “Or is she still just your wife in name only? A beautiful Goddess like Persephone would never be satisfied with one such as you. She needs a God like me to keep her satisfied.” He grasped the front of his pants crudely as he spoke.

Hades walked close to his nephew and placed his hand over the dancing light, extinguishing the fire. He grasped Ares’ hand tightly, knowing he was able to crush the younger God’s bones if he had the inclination to. He saw the spark of fear in Ares’ blue eyes. It was easy to be brave when you were never challenged by an equal, and the cruelest were always the most cowardly, Hades though with disgust. How many lives had this God destroyed simply for the swiftly fleeting pleasure of killing?

“Hear me well Ares,” Hades said in a low voice. “Persephone will never be yours.” He removed his hand and ash fell to the floor at their feet. Hades dusted his hands, pleased as some of it settled onto Ares’ eyebrows. “See your own way out. My wife waits for me to join her.”

Ares’ face turned red with rage, blood vessels bulging in his angelic eyes. There was the volatile God Hades knew, the God with the famous short temper that had led to the most gruesome wars the world had ever seen.

“You cannot keep her safe down here forever, Hades,” Ares shouted, spittle flying from his lips.  Hades turned his back and strode toward the doors. “One way or another, she will be mine.” With a wave of Hades’ hand, the door closed behind him, shutting out Ares and his demented curses. Charon was waiting for him.

“See that Ares does not make any stops on his way out, Charon. I am going to bed.”

Hades entered his chambers and closed the door quietly. Leaning against the wooden frame, he opened his robes and looked down at his chest.The cursed wound pulsed with his heartbeat, still dripping dark fresh blood. It had not healed at all, and if anything, looked worse today. He hit his head several times hard against the wall. It was not just his life at risk, it was his kingdom. His sanity. And Persephone. He had to find a way to undo this. He made his way to his vanity and poured water into a bowl. Taking a rag, he took a deep breath, and then pressed it tightly to the wound. Pain shot through him and he grabbed at the wall for support as black dots danced across his vision. He continued to clean the dried and fresh blood from his chest and arm and then wrapped a fresh cloth around the wound. His hair was damp with sweat by the time he finished tending his injury. He felt as if he had just battled the chimera! Hades walked to the windows, opening them wide, and he looked out seeing nothing.

“Persephone,” he murmured, “It was never the arrow that made me love you.” The wound suddenly pulsed violently in his chest and he fell to his knees in agony as images of Persephone writhing naked in his bed filled his mind. His head pounded relentlessly as erotic images flashed through his thoughts, tormenting him, arousing him. Her voice whispered wicked things to him, how she longed for him, wanted him to touch her. His hand travelled down to his painfully engorged shaft that pulsed in rhythm to his throbbing chest, and he grasped it tightly in his hand, imagining it was her that touched him. Debauched thoughts crawled out of the dark matter of his brain, go to her room like an incubus. He stumbled like a blindman to his door, his footsteps carrying him to her, to give her what she had asked for. But she had not asked for it, his rational mind whispered, she had not asked for any of it.

He walked like a man who had too much wine, back to his bed and pulled a white gown from it. Her wedding dress; it had been simple enough to restore it from the fire. He lifted it to his face and smelled her fragrance on it, the fresh scent of the forest. His cock pulsed angrily, wept at him for his impotence. He pulled apart his robes and began to rub her dress against himself, rubbing her essence over his body so it mingled with the masculine scent of his own arousal. He imagined it was her silken mouth between his legs, her soft hands on his cock, and it was only moments later when he shuddered with a blinding climax. As he emerged from the blackness, a small voice at the back of his mind whispered back, madness. He jerked himself awake. Madness, this was madness. His hands shaking, he threw down the wet gown and bolted his door. He threw himself down on his bed breathing heavily. The curse

was beginning to take control of him. How long could he fight against this powerful force?

He closed his eyes and breathed painfully, pushing the mania deep down inside of himself, as deep as it could go. This was not love; it was a dangerous obsession -- how long before it would consume him completely? He brought his fist to his face and kissed it. A pale light glowed between his clenched fingers and he reverently opened his hand. A golden thread lay on his palm. He held it tenderly in his hand gazing down at it. Along the fibers was a dark brassy indention that faded to a deep black. Hades ran his fingers over the mark inspecting it intently. “What have we here?”