Chapter 6 - Dinner

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Persephone heard the pounding on the door and she ignored it as she had since her return to her room, and she pulled the blankets more tightly over her head. She did not want to see the smiling faces of his deluded servants. She had no more desire to explore a castle that was filled with torn out hearts, and she most certainly did not want to see her husband who seemed to both despise and desire her. Hades was truly the embodiment of callousness, and yet inexplicably she could not seem to stop remembering his body as he had undressed. She was clearly sick and there was no cure. Damn this curse! And, no matter how long she pleaded and no matter how hard she looked, she could not find the means to leave this place. So, there was no reason to leave her bed, no reason to answer the door. She would stay here until her mother came to collect whatever remained of her. Demeter would find her in due course.

The pounding eventually stopped, and Persephone closed her eyes. The silence seemed to reverberate in her ears. A moment stretched into hours and she stared upward, watching the stars move across the ceiling. She wanted to pretend it was the night sky, but it was a lie just like everything else in her life. She raised her head as she heard a quiet scratch on the door. It sounded like claws against the wood and she hurried out of bed to crack the door as two black muzzles pushed their way in.

“Come Cerberus,” she said eyeing the deserted hallway. The dog padded into the room and she quickly locked the door. Turning back to greet her friend, she studied him carefully. Did she imagine it, or was Cerberus substantially smaller than he had been this morning? He almost appeared puppy-size right now. Maybe fear had increased his size in her mind, or perhaps it was just more evidence of her newly compromised state. With that encouraging thought she threw herself back down on the bed and felt it sink as Cerberus jumped up to join her, pressing his warm little body into her own.

Laying her head next to one of his, she whispered, “Cerberus, how can you stand it here?” His only reply was a soft lick on her nose. “I expect you are as loyal to him as everyone else here.”

She dozed for a little while and when she awoke again it was to golden eyes staring into her own. How comforting it was to have a friend here. Feeling slightly more cheerful, she sat up and stretched as Cerberus watched, his tail thumping on the blankets.

“Oh, I know what you would like,” she said with a smile. Waving her hands in an intricate pattern a lovely branch fell into her lap. “Would you like to fetch?”

The three heads barked madly, and Persephone shushed him with a laugh. “I presume Hades does not know you are here, so let us not alert him to that fact.” Throwing the stick across the room, Cerberus ran after it, his feet clattering loudly on the floor as the heads growled at each other for the right to the stick. They played an uninterrupted game of fetch for some period of time when the pounding came back.

“My lady, please open the door!”

It was Jocasta’s voice. Persephone and Cerberus exchanged a glance, and she did him the courtesy of looking each head in the eye. They seemed to share an understanding.

“I agree, Cerberus, we will not open the door.”

Persephone went closer, “Jocasta?”

Relief was evident in the servant’s voice. “Your majesty, I have been instructed to ready you for dinner with my Lord Hades.”

Persephone shook her head, forgetting that no one could see her. “No, I am sorry, but I will not attend. You may tell him I do not wish to join him for dinner.”

There was a moment of silence and then Jocasta’s voice slowly replied, “You mean you will not join him?”

Crossing her arms Persephone nodded firmly. “Yes, that is exactly what I mean.”

There was no further response and it seemed Jocasta had left her to her solitude. She went to the fire and sat close to the flame that somehow still burned brightly. Cerberus curled into a small ball in her lap and she stroked his ears gently. Her stomach gave a loud growl and she pressed her hands against it tightly. One night without food would not kill her, but she regretted not eating some of her breakfast this morning. Poor Cerberus would need his dinner though. When she was certain no one lurked outside her door, she would release him back into the hall and then she would be alone again. She touched the branch gently that was now wet with Cerberus’ slobber, studying the small green leaves at the edges of it. Could anything survive in this dark, cold palace?

Waving her hands again, a small leafy plant fell at her feet. Cerberus gave it a dismissive sniff. She picked it up gently

stroking its smooth green leaves. Perhaps if she nurtured it and found a way to take it outside the gates and let the light touch it, then it may survive.

She gave a terrified shriek as a voice said menacingly behind her, “Good evening, wife.”

Persephone turned her head to look behind her and a thrill of fear went through her as she saw a dark shadow towering over her. Her heart pounded against her chest and she willed it to slow. She remembered how the man had pleaded with Hades in the throne room and his heart had been casually crushed in her husband’s grasp. Pleading would not work with the God of the Dead. Setting her plant down gently before the warmth of the fire, she picked up Cerberus and turned to face him. He need not know that she held her trembling hands beneath the dog’s body.

“Get out of my room,” she said haughtily, pleased by the steadiness of her voice.

His eyes darted to his dog held so complacently in her arms, and then he narrowed his gaze on her face. “Your room, my Queen? Everything in this palace belongs to me. Your clothes. That dog. Your bed.” Her, she thought. It hung in the air unspoken between them. “Your use of this room is by my pleasure.”

Persephone angrily replied, “You think to keep me a prisoner here and not do me the courtesy of having a room? Would you throw your wife into the fiery pits of Tartarus then?”

A muscle ticked in his jaw as he stepped closer to her. “There is much I have allowed my wife. Tread carefully, Persephone, lest you find what a prison is really like. You will join me for dinner.”

“I will not!” she said fiercely. “I would rather starve.”

“Would you? But I find I am hungry,” he said silkily, “and if we do not dine in the hall I will have to dine here. Is that what you want?” His eyes blazed at her, almost feverish in their intensity.

She backed away warily, clutching Cerberus to her chest. “But I--I am not hungry.”

He followed her retreat and she felt the wall at her back. “Oh, I think you are, Persephone. I think you are as hungry as I am.” She buried her face in Cerberus’ fur knowing he was right in front of her, afraid he might see the flare of desire in her eyes if she looked at him. She remembered the long hot length of him, and she felt her body pulse with need even as she willed it to still. His hand was on her jaw, and as he began to press her face towards him, her traitorous stomach gave a singularly loud growl.

Hades laughed. “Enough of this nonsense.” Taking Cerberus from her arms he set the dog gently on the floor and grabbed so suddenly for Persephone that she did not even realize it until she was over his shoulder staring at his firm backside.

Persephone was fuming by the time he sat her firmly in the chair at the dining table. She crossed her arms tightly over her beautiful breasts and glared at him as he took his seat across from her. He motioned for a servant to begin to bring in the trays, hiding a smile as she hungrily eyed the plates piled high with exotic meats, fruits, cheeses and nuts. He indicated with a nod that his wife should be served first.

Hades sipped from his glass, “Tell me about your day.”

She reluctantly drew her eyes from the plate in front of her that was now overflowing with food.

“It was most illuminating,” she said coldly.

“That sounds… enticing. Tell me wife, what did you see?”

She fought a blush remembering his pulsing manhood. “I saw your many jeweled rooms and got lost repeatedly. But you saw the most interesting acquaintance I met today,” she nodded her head towards Cerberus, where one black paw was just visible beneath the table.

“Ah yes, Cerberus, my guard dog.”

“Guard dog? Is he not much too small for that, some harm could come to him!”

His own plate filled, he picked up a piece of juicy meat and was chewing it slowly, when he choked suddenly at her words. Coughing slightly he replied, “Cerberus can change size at will. He wanted you to pet and coddle him, so he made himself a smaller version of his true form, but when enraged, I assure you, he can grow large enough to fill this room.”

He saw her study the small paw again with surprise this time.

“I knew he had seemed larger when I met him this morning. What a clever boy he is.”

Hades snorted. “Yes, he is clever. He is not in general a fan of the living, or of the dead for that matter, but it seems you have bewitched him. He protects the gate so no one can enter or exit the Underworld without my consent. He can rip apart a man with his bare teeth if necessary - He is the offspring of Typhon.”

Persephond gasped. Typhon was one of the deadliest creatures in existence, a creature who had fought against the Olympians in the Titanic Wars. She knew through her history that it had been long before her time.

“Is Cerberus safe then?”

“On my life. The sins of the father should not pass to the son. I have had him since he was a pup. Cerberus is innocent of any crime.” They sat in silence for a moment as she stared down hungrily at her plate. She would not eat in front of him, he thought with a sigh.

“Excuse me,” Hades muttered striding to the door, feeling her eyes on his back. He stood in the shadows of the doorway letting the darkness absorb him. When she thought he was gone she quickly devoured her food, glancing now and then at the door. What a stubborn creature she was. Giving her a few moments of privacy, he returned with a sifter of wine and refilled both their glasses, noticing how she stiffened as he leaned closer towards her. He politely ignored her empty plate.

Settling back into his seat he said pleasantly, “I saw you watching me today.”

Her cup clattered loudly to the table as wine sloshed over the edge and a lovely blush infused her pale face. “Wh--what? You saw me--?”

“In the throne room,” he finished her question with a quirk of his brow, seeing the obvious relief in her wide eyes. “There is no need to be embarrassed, though I distinctly remember conveying to Jocasta that you were only to explore those areas that did not possess locked doors. I assume she did not deliver my message sufficiently.”

“No!” she replied quickly. “She did, I just did not listen. But I am not the one who should be ashamed.”

“And who should be ashamed then?” Hades questioned.

“You!” she cried with blazing eyes. “I saw what you did to that poor man, you showed no mercy. You were barbaric! No creature deserves that kind of  cruelty.”

He picked up an orange and rolled it thoughtfully in his hands. “You are a child if you believe that. You have been sheltered in your mother’s temple your whole life, you have yet to see the true depravity of man. That “poor man” committed such atrocities in his life that he deserved no kindness in his death. I do not regret my treatment of him. There is no shame in justice being served to those who deserve it. Can you think of no one, wife, who you would like to punish?” he asked with a sly smile.

“No one I would wish to be subjected to that treatment, not even you husband,” she quickly retorted.

“Ah, you are too generous, my love.” She stiffened at his endearment. “Do you have any questions for me? You saw a soul subjected to the worst treatment a human soul can undergo. Do you wonder where he went? Where the others go?”

She stared stonily at him.

“But of course you do, my curious wife, otherwise why would you watch furtively from peepholes.” A blush crept up her face again at his words. She wore her emotions too plainly on her face, no wonder Demeter had guarded her so fiercely. “The ordinary souls,” he continued, “go to the Asphodel Meadows. These are souls whose touch on the world will be forgotten soon after their death. The souls who have remarkably changed the world go to Elysium, souls whose names will live on despite the rise and fall of empires. And only the most wicked and depraved, as you know, go to Tartarus, so that they might live out eternity in perpetual torment.”

“The parade was in Elysium?” she asked reluctantly.

“Yes. The souls from Asphodel got to spend the day there to celebrate our wedding. Today they are back in the meadows.”

“What are the meadows like?” she asked with curiosity.

“Blue skies, lush green grass that stretches on and on forever and flowers everywhere. You would like it. I will take you one day.”

She longed to see blue skies again, just not with her husband. “Why is your castle not located in the Meadows or Elysium? Why live in this dark, cold palace?”

“My palace is the gateway to these realms. We do not belong with the dead. My job is to wait for the souls to be judged, separate the wheat from the chaff, and deal out their punishments."

“And you are happy with this day after day? Never being in the light?”

“Happy enough,” he replied. “Some are not meant to touch the light.”

Persephone considered his enigmatic statement, but then determinedly dismissed it from her mind. His happiness was not her concern, so she turned the conversation to a point more critical to both of them.  “Are you any closer to discovering who shot the arrow at you?”

“I am afraid for the moment that still remains a mystery,” he replied, his face partially hidden by the shadows of the room.

“Can’t you think of any one who hates you enough to curse you?” she asked, disbelief dripping from her voice.

He smiled at her, a dimple appearing on one side of his mouth. “On the contrary, I can think of too many. But have no fear, I am considering each of them. Some have been dismissed as potential subjects, others are still being investigated. Perhaps I should, in turn, ask if you have any enemies who may wish to punish you? We may be wrong to assume it was I who someone wanted to harm.”

Her face was pale, and she avoided his eyes, “No one comes to mind.”

“Have no fear, we will eventually find the culprit,” he promised.

“But perhaps when we can discover who it was, we may be able to remove the curse--,” she stopped as she saw him shaking his head.

“No, Persephone, it is not possible to remove this curse,” he said firmly. He needed her to understand the gravity of the situation. Neither of them would ever be free now, each was irrevocably tied to the other. “The only reason I seek to know the face behind the arrow is so we can prevent them from doing further harm. This damage has already been done.”

He watched as her face fell and wished he could tell her otherwise, but this curse was not only permanent, it was fast acting. He felt like a man possessed, like the most wretched of lovesick fools, and he feared nothing would ever be enough to satisfy his need for her. He sipped his wine slowly in an effort to steady his breathing.

The silence once more became heavy between them and he could not keep his eyes from hungrily drinking her in. Her forest green eyes returned his gaze with uncertainty. Did she not realize how much he wanted her?

He stared at her mouth and bit back a groan as her small white teeth dug into her lush lower lip. Almost desperately she blurted out, “I saw the engravings of Eros in my room. I found their story very sad. If only he had been honest with Psyche, she would never have believed he was a monster. Much harm was done by his lies.”

“On the contrary, wife,” Hades interjected. “Psyche was a silly woman indeed to allow herself to be swayed so easily from her love. Such cheaply lost affection is not worth any tears. What does a name matter if you have found the soul that calls to yours?”

“A little sweetness to balance your acidity, husband?” she asked with a smile, passing him a honeyed cake. He accepted with a smile of his own. “Had Eros simply trusted Psyche she would not have listened to the malicious words of others. What was she to think when she was met night after night by a faceless being? She believed he would kill her child.”

“She let fear control her,” he responded. “ Her heart knew the truth, but her mind was poisoned by lies. She should have trusted him instead of listening to the malicious gossip from her family. She did not deserve him in the light if she could not love him in the dark.” He felt his cock jerk in response to the ferocious look she gave him.

“I think she did what any woman would do in that situation, if she thought her child was threatened. I only wish he could have trusted her, and then in turn, she would have trusted him.”

He pressed a juicy melon to his mouth feeling a thrill of satisfaction as her eyes followed the movement. “My Goddess of the Forest, you know better than anyone what happens when a planted seed sprouts and takes root. This is what happened with Psyche and her sisters. They planted a seed of doubt, but it was Psyche alone who nurtured it and allowed it to grow until it consumed her love. The only wisdom gained from this story is how little value you should place in the words of others.”

Persephone blushed as she remembered how she had repeated the malicious gossip of Olympus. “I only hope they will find a way back to one another,” she said softly.

“Their story has not played out yet.” Looking into her sad green eyes he continued gently, “Perhaps they will.”

Persephone averted her gaze from his, it felt too intimate to meet his black eyes in the dim light of the dining hall. A large red fruit caught her eye and she reached for it curiously. She had never seen this variety before and she cracked it open, watching in delight as many soft ruby colored seeds poured out. It was lovely. Picking up a seed, she placed it to her lips when suddenly Hades was before her, ripping it from her grasp. He took a cloth and wiped her lips and hands roughly.

“Wh-what are you doing?” she asked, and when she looked up at him, his face was filled with hot rage. She had only seen him this angry once before, in his throne room right before he had ripped out the heart of a man. She shrunk back in her chair watching him with wide, terrified eyes.

He snapped his fingers and one of the servers appeared. He placed the fruit and all its seeds into the hands of the servant.

“Find out who placed these here and bring them to my throne room.” His back was to her and it was several moments before he turned around. When he did, his black eyes still blazed. “That is the fruit of the pomegranate tree. I told you it was the tree of the Underworld. If you consume its flesh, you can never leave.”

Persephone sucked in a breath feeling fear clamp down on her heart. She had been only moments away from putting the seed in her mouth. She opened her mouth to offer her profuse gratitude when a thought occurred to her and she narrowed her eyes at him. “I thought I was already trapped down here! You said I could not leave, that the curse would not let me leave.”

The anger in his face had been replaced by the distant look that she had come to associate with him. “Ah, my discerning wife, your suspicious nature surprises me. I never said you were bound to the Underworld, I said you were bound to me. I will not let you leave, I cannot let you leave. It is our fates that are linked, and only by association are you required to reside here.”

“It does not sound that different to me,” she retorted.

“Then allow me to be clearer,” he replied. “If you consume those seeds, by the Law of the Gods, you can never set one foot outside the Underworld. You would no longer be a guest, but an eternal prisoner here.”

“Then I suppose I should thank you for keeping me an imprisoned guest,” she said bitterly.

“Yes,” he said quietly, “ perhaps you should. How would you like to start?”

She blinked at him blankly for a moment. “What?”

He walked slowly towards her, “You made the offer, tell me, how do you wish to thank me? There are so many ways you can show me your gratitude.”

He stood over her chair now and she held out a hand. “Do not come any closer,” she said, her voice trembling.

“You claim you do not desire me?” he questioned.

“I do not! I do not want you to touch me!” she spat out.

He smiled at her slyly, “I think you lie to me, or maybe you lie to yourself. I saw you by my room today. I felt your desire. What a shocking turn of events that was -- my privacy being violated.”

She tried to rise from her chair, but he pushed her back down, keeping his hand on her shoulder. She tried desperately to shrug him off, but he remained firmly in place. She stared at the table, feeling her face turn painfully hot. “I--I only watched you because I was concerned about your wound. If you succumb to that injury no one else here would have the means to return me above ground.” The explanation sounded ridiculously feeble even to her own ears.

“Oh, Persephone,” he replied softly. “What lies you tell; I am surprised Aletheia does not strike you down. I saw you stay long after you saw my wound, I saw you watch as my cock pulsed with need for you, and still you stayed.”

“No,” she said, but her voice was a fragmented. “I do - do not wish to discuss this. I do not trust you. For all I know you could have shot yourself with that arrow to get a wife to join you here, to make her a prisoner! Let me retire to my chambers.”

His grasp tightened on her shoulder, “No, not this time, Persephone.  You will stay until we have an honest discussion.”

“An honest discussion!” she angrily retorted, her green eyes snapping to his. “You treat me like a pawn in your game of chess against some unknown enemy you either cannot or will not name. You do not trust me, and I will never trust you.”

He swept the goblets from the table and they shattered to the floor. His right hand was filled with shards of glass as he went to his knees before her chair. “Persephone,” he whispered, his eyes tortured, grabbing her hand with his uninjured one. “I do not use you, I, I...”

But she was too angry to allow him to speak, not noticing that his black eyes were alight with an emotion she had never seen in them. She pushed at his hand and stood, the chair toppling behind her to the floor. Her hands were fisted at her sides. “Today I saw you rip a man’s heart from his chest and you express no regret about it and offer no excuses.”

He ran his hands through his thick hair holding his head tightly as though it pained him. When he looked at her again, his eyes were cold and dead, all the spark extinguished. Hades watched her a moment, still on his knees, and then stood slowly. “I told you, he committed unpardonable crimes.”

“And you feel no remorse?” she countered.

His black eyes glared into hers. “None whatsoever! I would do it again a thousand times over.”

“You are depraved!” she cried.

“You do not know the half of it. And moreover, while we are being frank” he replied, thrusting his face into hers, “I enjoyed it. I relished removing this piece of vermin from the world.”

She jerked her head back. “You disgust me, I cannot stay in this sadistic place!” She whirled quickly and ran from the hall hearing a thunderous roar behind her, fear clogging her throat. When she reached her room, she bolted the door behind her and slid to the floor. Rough hands pulled her to her feet, and she let out a gasp of shock as she was pushed against the door.

Hades laughed at her startled expression and dug his fingers into her arms. “You think a locked door can keep me out? We were not finished with our conversation. You…,” he hissed, “You and your little seeds of doubt. Your preconceived notions that I am the monster. I find it interesting that my beloved should assume the best of all others and the worst of her own husband. Let me tell you of that man you defend so nobly. He murdered women and children by cutting their hearts out. He reveled in it, bathed in their blood and desecrated their bodies. The little girl from the parade, Cora, ask her how she died, what he did to her. His soul is blacker than the deepest pits in hell. Now he will be forced to feel the crimes he committed every day in Tartarus. He is the monster, he is the sadist.”

“Stop,” she cried, “I do not want to hear anymore!”

“But you wanted the truth from me, Goddess. While we are being honest,” he grasped her hand and pressed it against his bloody wound, letting out a moan. “I would be lying to say I did not want your hands on me.” He brought her hand down over his stomach, all the way to his aching cock, his black eyes blazing wildly. “The truth… is often… wicked,” he whispered against her ear. She could feel his long length beneath her palm and the intelligent thing would have been to remove her hand, to have given him a strong tongue lashing and send him on his way. She should not be touching him, she had no right to touch him. All that was between them was a curse and anger. But almost against her will, her fingers tightened just slightly around him and a flicker of surprise crossed his face. She felt him swell in her grasp as he pushed himself more tightly into her palm, while there was an answering dampness between her thighs. And she hated it, hated the depravity of it, the slip on her own control. But, a small part of her, the dark part she hid inside of herself, lifted its head and burst free and relished it, rejoicing in the loss of her restraint. She felt his hot mouth at her neck and closed her eyes against the sensation, even while she sought it. He wedged his thigh between her legs, and he seemed to rub at some sensitive part of her that caused her to gasp as little white lights danced behind her eyes. He pushed her more tightly against the door and it shuddered loudly at the combined force of their bodies. The rational part of her brain blushed at the noise, but then his mouth moved to the wide expanse of her exposed chest and all thoughts fled. He bit down with enough force that she felt a delicious tingle begin at the center of her body and she pushed the aching part of herself against his hard thigh. His hands tugged at her skirts and she felt one hand inch slowly up her leg. As his mouth moved up against her neck again, he grasped her wrist tightly and fear uncurled like a sleeping beast in her mind.

Panic welled in her throat and she pushed at him wildly, but it was not until she let out a whimper of fear that he finally drew his head back to look at her. He still held her one wrist in his hand, the other up her skirts, and he slowly released her even as she felt his bulging erection pressed tightly against her stomach. He studied her for a moment and finally stepped away, turning his back to her, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. Was he angry, she wondered? She opened her mouth and then closed it abruptly. There was nothing she could say to make this situation better and it just so happened that she was beyond the power of speech at the moment.  She closed her eyes tightly, nauseated by the conflicting emotions tearing at her, the lust and fear warring with each other until she wanted to scream her frustration.

“I would tell you to lock the door behind me,” she heard him say, “but we both know that would not keep me out. Goodnight, Persephone.”

She felt the softest caress against her cheek and when she opened her eyes, she was alone. She looked down and gave a gasp. Going to her knees, she gently touched the withered brown leaves of her plant, feeling a tear run slowly down her cheek. It had died while she had filled her stomach at Hades’ table. She pulled her knees to her chest, letting out a desperate sob for the life she had left behind and the future she would never have.

Hades strode back to his chamber in the blackest mood he could recall having in a very long time. She had been terrified and he had been so overcome with desire he almost had not noticed. He had been preparing to take her against the wall when he finally heard her whimper and had seen the fear in her eyes.  The curse, the damned curse! He turned suddenly and punched the wall, feeling satisfaction as the marble made contact against his fist. He needed answers posthaste and he could only think of one immortal who might be able to provide them. Brushing at the blood dripping from his hand, he ignored the startled gasp of a passing maid. One way or another, he would find the culprit.