Chapter 18 - Poppies

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Persephone headed quickly to the stables looking for Aethon, her footsteps quiet on the marble floors. Theo had given her a way to aid her husband and she would pursue it regardless of the costs. She rode bareback to the Lythe and the horse's hooves rumbled beneath her, the fabric of her skirts slicing the wind as it flew behind her.

“Faster Aethon,” she urged, as she bent low over the mare. “Take me to Hypnos, take me to the Cave of the Poppies -- for Hades! Fly for Hades!” Aethon let out a huff of air and she knew the horse understood.

It was a matter of life and death; the death of Hades’ sanity if she could not find the means to help him. She rode past the calm river, past the strange glittering gems reflected in its blue depths. She rode until her legs ached, she rode until Aethon’s sides were heaving. Then she saw it. Clenching her legs against the horse she jumped lithely from its back. It was as Theo described; bright red flowers grew from the entrance of the dark cavern and she hesitated only a moment before she made her way into its dark and shadowy depths.

She walked carefully into the cave. It was so dark she could not even see her feet to watch her step and she felt herself falter, unsure of the way. She bent, trying to catch her breath, hyperventilating as demons and men flashed through her mind and she let out a cry of rage. How long had the darkness scared her? What had Hades said? What is the light without the dark? Darkness was merely part of the light, it was nothing to be afraid of. Men and demons did not define it. Without the night there were no stars. The dark held a beauty all its own and she let the shadows move over her, relishing their gentle embrace. She raised her head, taking another step forward and then another, when a slow soothing voice echoed in the blackness.

“Neither light nor wind makes its way here, and yet the King’s sun enters.” It was Hypnos, the God of Sleep. She could make out a figure, blacker than the darkness of the cave as he made his way towards her. A long thin veil covered him completely and when he reached her, bony fingers grasped her hand, raising it to his covered mouth to kiss it softly. “You do not visit my kingdom often, Persephone, your nightmares keep you awake. They keep you from me.”

“I have not come to talk about my dreams, Hypnos,” Persephone said slowly, as Hypnos began to circle her.

He turned from her then, templing his skeletal finger tips together and his dreamlike voice turned almost childlike. “In dreams we find our deepest desires, our secret fears. To know the dream of another is to know their soul. I collect them, I keep them. In dreams we can truly live. I know you dream of another’s kiss.” He began to move back towards her, his dark veil blowing gently at his feet. “I see you in your husband's dreams. They are filled with you, my child. His visions of you are very... engrossing.”

“It is because of my husband that I am here,” Persephone said, her voice growing sluggish. She pushed her hair from her face, forcing her mind to focus. She  would not allow him to draw her down a rabbit hole, she was done playing games. “I need the flowers from around your home. Tell me your price.”

“Why not just grow them yourself?” he asked, his soft voice moving gently in the darkness.

“I need your poppies, strong ones, to put the King to sleep. I need a spell cast on the flowers.” She stifled a yawn behind her hand, her eyelids drooping briefly.

Behind the veil, Hypnos smiled and Persephone shivered. “Oh, I cannot deny that the thought of having the King of the Underworld in my kingdom for an extended amount of time does not please me. I can give you the strongest flowers I have,” he said, “I know why you need them. I have seen it in both your nightmares.” He was silent then whispered in a melody, “I see everything in your dreams.”

She forced her slumbrous eyes up to his veiled face, pushing back the anxiety his words conjured. There was no time for fear anymore. “I know what haunts my dreams. Take me to the poppies.”

“As you wish, my Queen.” Suddenly he grabbed her arm and led her further back into the cave. It was blacker than night and the air was stifling as they moved swiftly through the shadows. In the blackness she could make out the vague form of a man sleeping on a bed of ebony marble and she jumped in surprise. Hypnos put a finger to his lips. “Shhhhh. Do not wake him.”  Further he led her back into the darkness, until finally he stopped and she felt him suck in a deep breath. A sweet, nutty smell filled the cavern and Persephone almost stumbled against the lethargy that had stolen over her. “Kneel, my queen.” She hesitated then unsteadily fell to the ground as she felt his hand move over hers, brushing her fingers against soft, satiny leaves. “These are the stoutest, these that grow in the darkest of places,” he whispered in a gentle hush. She began to gather the flowers as quickly as possible, blind in the blackness, frantic as she felt sleep pulling at her eyelids, languor wrapping around her mind. The flowers beneath her were soft against her skin and she felt her body relax into them as her eyelids began to droop.

“I should let you rest,” the enchanting voice said from behind the veil. “Your dreams are particularly violent and I relish the break from the tedium of the mundane. But your husband will find you and your plan will be for naught. I for one prefer not to be ruled by a mad King.” She felt bony fingers wrap around her arm and looked down, seeing the skeletal hands pulling at her flesh.

“Why did I come here?” she whispered, her mind struggling to remember even as her eyes closed. Those hands grasped her more tightly, lifting her paralyzed body from the floor and she drifted as her body moved gently in his arms. She blinked as cold air suddenly filled her lungs and she realized she could see the night sky. Hades, her mind whispered. She must hurry. He bent to lay her gently at the foot of the cave and she stood slowly, turning to face Hypnos. He was holding the brilliant poppies, wrapped tightly in red silk and they regarded each other over the offered bouquet, his skeletal hands wrapped tightly around the stems. Why did taking the flowers from this strange God seem like a betrayal to her husband? He trusted her to protect his Kingdom, but he would not trust her to protect him.

A smile curved the thin slash of mouth she could see just beyond the veil. “Are you sure you wish to travel down this path, young one? Hades is strong, my child. You must make a

stout drink if you want him to fall asleep. You will need to keep flowers by his bedside once he is slumbering. Lift his head and make him drink more elixir regularly to keep the spell going. Do not let him wake up.” He grabbed her by the arm then, so tightly she knew she would have bruises. “Do not play games with your husband unless you are certain you will win. He is a formidable foe who will sacrifice himself to watch his enemies burn. Tread carefully lest you find yourself on the wrong side of his wrath.”

She nodded her head and she felt Aethon approach behind her. She already knew that if her plan worked, if she was able to save Hades, he may never forgive her. For the price of his life, it was a sacrifice she was willing to make -- the final gift to a man who would save everyone but himself. She grasped Atheon's mane gently, pulling herself up on her broad back.

“I have set a course and I will follow it to the end, come what may. The poppies,” she demanded, extending her hand towards him.

“Oh, how you have changed, gentle one,” he said softly, his head tilted up towards her as he brushed his hand over the poppies, “Strange is it not, that you would risk everything to protect a man you do not love?” The wind rippled through the fabric of his gown as dark eyes burned at her from behind the cloth. She said nothing and he motioned his hands towards the heavens, “The man from the forest. He is coming for you.”

She circled around him on Aethon and Hypnos handed her the bouquet, her cool fingers brushing against his bony ones. “I will be ready when he comes.”

“Caution, my queen. He is growing darker.”

Persephone urged Aethon forward, glancing back at Hypnos’s black figure hovering in the distance. He was coming. She forced herself to look ahead. It was time to close this chapter; her past was coming for her and when it arrived she would be there to meet it. The scent of the poppies weighed both her and Aethon down, the mares hooves stumbling as they flew over the shore next to the Lethe. What had Hades discovered in the depths of those blue waters? The poppies in her hands gleamed in the darkness. “He only needs to be asleep for a couple of hours before the Pluto-Venus transit ends,” she whispered. Aethon began to slow as the stables came in to view and she quickly dismounted, leading Aethon to her stall and escaping quietly back up to her room. She threw her cape on her bed and turned the lock in her door. It would keep out the servants, and Hades would not seek her again. Time was ticking now and every second mattered. Olive trotted over to her from the bed and Persephone stroked his soft ear as she began to lay out the poppies. She walked to her bed and searched carefully, giving a little shout of satisfaction as she plucked a black hair from one of the pillows.

“He thinks he will lock himself in Tartarus, Olive. He thinks that I would meekly accept his demise as I would the setting of the sun. I will not! I will protect him if he will not protect himself. He deserves someone to protect him.” To love him, she thought. Olive’s nose nudged against her leg. “Exactly, Olive. Now we get to work.”

She spent the rest of the afternoon mixing the potion. It was a complex spell and Persephone wrote it out several times, ensuring she could follow the steps precisely. Too weak an elixir and he would wake up too soon… too strong an elixir and he would never wake up at all. She counted the steps in her head as she went: a forward stir five times, six counter stirs, four leaves of the poppy, a hair of the drinker, ten forward stirs, twenty counter stirs, four leaves of the poppy. The hours passed as she hovered over the boiling pot, stepping away from it when the fumes overpowered her, and by the time she finished, her hair curled around her face in damp strands. The drought was a perfect red and now she just needed to make him drink it. He had forbidden her from entering his rooms again but he needed to be near his bed when the spell took effect. She must simply disobey him. Setting the elixir and the remainder of the poppies out of sight, she called Jocasta to her room. The maid started at the sight of Persephone’s hair but did not utter a word as the Queen instructed her to set up dinner for her husband and herself in his bedroom. Jocasta’s beatific smile made Persephone’s breath hitch, the servant obviously thought things were going well between them. She could not know of course that Persephone planned to slip a potent sleeping draught into the king’s wine to keep her husband from going insane. After helping to arrange the dinner, Jocasta returned and assisted Persephone as she placed a red gown over her head. The center was diaphanous gold and thin strips of red cloth covered her breasts and arms, billowing around her legs. As Jocasta left the room, Persephone hurried to pick up the vial of potion and tucked it into the folds of her dress, then went in search of her husband.

She saw that the golden doors of his room stood open and Hades leaned against the doorway talking in low tones to Charon. “Escort them to Elysium,” his voice drifted across the hall to her. As always, Charon’s face was hidden from view, but her husband’s face was lit by sconces in the hallway. He was wraith-like in his dark robes, his pale skin almost white against the blackness of the high collar. Persephone took a step closer and his black eyes shifted to hers. “That is all I think, Charon.” The River Guide left and Hades merely continued to watch her, his back against the door.

“I thought I told you not to come back,” he said quietly.

“And you thought I would listen? I do not think you could ever call me a dutiful wife.”

“No indeed,” he murmured, “I would not. Why are you here Persephone?”

She began to edge closer to him, her eyes fixed on his. “I wanted to see you, one last time, before things… change. It is safe tonight. You said the planets would not shift until tomorrow. Let me stay.” Her voice was soft, conjuling in the darkly lit hall. She watched as his eyes followed the outline of her breasts in her gown and she could see the internal struggle in his mind as he fought with what he wanted and what he thought was right. Please Hades, her mind whispered.

He looked up then, searching her eyes. “This is the last time, Persephone. Do you have your knife?” She nodded her head. “Fine. Come into my crypt.”  He did not move from the doorway and she brushed past him as she entered.

Surveying the room she saw that Jocasta had indeed set a scene for seduction. The table was laid with decadent foods, their intoxicating aromas filling the room. Roses and candlelight had transformed the chamber into a romantic garden and the soft light played across his dark face, and she felt it again, the twinge in her chest. If only tonight were as simple as a wife loving her husband. Her hands shook as she took the goblets and filled them with wine and then tipped the elixir into her husband’s glass. She turned quickly and was relieved to see he still stood near the doorway, watching her. With a smile she brought his goblet to him and took a tentative sip of her own.

“I thought there was some mistake, when Jocasta told me that my wife had requested us to dine together, since our interactions usually involved you running away.” Involved, her mind repeated the word, digesting it, rejecting it. Past tense, like their time had already come and gone, that this brief interlude was already over. The thought was like a dagger in her heart and the surprise of her emotions made her breathless. Persephone stepped closer and pressed her fingers against his lips, shaking her head. She did not want to hear bitter words tonight, too much time had already been spent in anger.

“Please,” she whispered, “not tonight. I do not want to fight tonight. I just want to be with you. Okay?”

He stared down at her. “Okay,” he said softly, his lips moving against her fingers. “No fighting tonight.” She reluctantly let her fingertips drop, enjoying the smooth touch of his lips against them. “You look lovely,” he muttered, his eyes travelling down her length again. “I am a lucky man to spend the evening with such a Goddess.” Hades went to his dresser and ruffled through it, finally pulling out a necklace. “This goes with your gown.” He held it against the light and tiny red stones glittered in the golden chain.

“It is beautiful,” she said, fingering it gently. Are they rubies?”

“They are pomegranate seeds,” he replied. "From the first tree of the Underworld." He lifted his eyes to hers and wordless understanding passed between them. She knew how much that necklace must have meant to him, set with the seeds of the tree that grew from his mother’s blood. He walked up behind her and fastened the chain around her neck and she felt his breath against her hair. His body tightened suddenly and he moved swiftly to the opposite end of the table.“Charon told me you did well today. In the throne room,” he said quickly, his breaths coming in short gasps.

“Thank you.” She felt warmth fill her at his praise. “I did what I thought was right, what my heart told me was the truth. The Judges did not approve of my decisions, I am afraid.”

He smiled. “They seldom approved of mine when I first started. They will learn to respect you as you deserve. You are their Queen.” He gestured for her to sit and once she did he approached the table, moving slowly towards his chair as he placed his goblet before him. She knew she was looking too much at his cup and she forced her eyes down to her plate, raising them again when he sat.

“Why did you choose Theo and Rastus for me?”

His eyes lingered lovingly on her breasts and then rose to her eyes.

“Ah, but I did not choose Rastus for you to judge. You chose him yourself.”

She gave him a ferocious look. “Certainly you would have known I would judge Rastus after hearing the crime he committed!

“Perhaps,” he replied. “I make it a habit not to know too many things. We do not even know ourselves completely.”

“You did not answer my question,” she said.

He lifted the goblet and her heart stuttered, but he paused at her words. “I was tired, and he was the last prisoner of the day. I knew he would be good practice for you.”

“I could have judged more prisoners,” she said, frowning at him. “There was no need to tire yourself.”

“Next time, I promise, you will have the whole list.” His eyes were luminous in the light as he watched her. “Why did you let Theo go?

“He loved his wife -- enough to die for her, enough to live for her. He deserved a second chance.”

Hades looked at the necklace beating to the rhythm of her heart and only nodded. Eager to get him to drink, Persephone lifted her glass in the air and said, “To my first day dealing judgment.” They toasted and sipped from their cups and Hades watched her as he drank, his eyes never leaving her face.

“Have you decided on what you will do tomorrow?” she asked.

“Charon and I discussed that. In the morning I will be locked in Tartarus. The doors shall remain closed until this transit in the sky passes. What he finds once he retrieves me will determine what happens from there.”

She stiffened in her chair. “And you made this decision with the help of your old friend rather than your wife?

“Persephone,” he murmured, “I thought you did not want to fight tonight? There is no other choice, you know that.”

She tried to smile at him, but found her lips could not seem to make the movement. “You are right, I am sorry. Is the wine not to your liking? I can bring you another glass.”

He shook his head. “Tomorrow I will need the full power of my mind, whatever remains of it. Wine dulls the senses and arouses those I do not need aroused.”

She blushed at his words even as she bit back a sigh of frustration. Looking up she saw his eyes moving over her and she suddenly knew how to get him to drink his wine. She stood, keeping her goblet in her hand as she approached him. He looked up at her warily as she crawled into his lap, his body strong and hot beneath hers, and a gasp escaped his lips.

“You are right,” she whispered. “Tomorrow everything will change. Tonight belongs to you and I.” She swallowed the remainder of her wine and his eyes followed a ruby drop as it ran down her mouth and disappeared between her breasts. She picked up his goblet and pushed it against his lips and he let her tilt the liquid into his mouth.

“What are you doing, Persephone?” he asked, his voice edged with pain.

“I do not want to be alone tonight,” she whispered. “Stay with me.”

Her hand raised again to bring the cup up when his hand grasped her wrist. “Your heart is racing. I know this is not what you want.”

She nuzzled her face in his neck, breathing him in and she felt something awaken deep in her body. “Do not presume to know too much,” she whispered in his ear. “Remember?” She bit down on his ear lobe as he had done to hers and she felt him shudder beneath her. “Relax.” This time he let her bring the cup to his lips and he drained the remaining liquid from it and she set the empty goblet on the table.

“Persephone,” he said, drawing his face back to look at her. “Orpheaus passed some time ago. Today I collected his soul and reunited him with Eurydice.”

She stared down at him in shock. Why was he telling her this now? He had travelled to the surface to collect a mortal soul. Why? Was Orpheaus not sentenced to wander, just like her father? “But you said… you said he would be cursed to roam the Earth alone. Why did you change your mind?”

“Because it is what you wanted,” he said, purple ringing his eyes as his gaze met hers, “because I love you.” Before she could respond he brought her head down to his and covered her mouth with his, swallowing her gasp of sorrow. He sipped at her, like he was drinking nectar from her lips, like she was the last promise of hope to a dying man. His mouth moved to her neck, his teeth dragging along her soft flesh and she groaned in pleasure. Lifting his hands he tore the material from her breasts and sat back staring as her nipples hardened in the cool air. She lifted her hands to cover them but he caught her wrists.

“Perfect,” he breathed. And when he closed his mouth over one taut peak, she did nothing to stop him. As his mouth moved to her other breast she felt his hand move against her thigh and touch the wetness between her legs. Gods, she waited for the fear to come, but all she felt was pleasure. He loved her and she...she needed to stop him. She was a liar, manipulating his weakness to get what she wanted. She felt his hands draw up her back, unfastening the small buttons Jocasta had helped her close just hours ago. Surely the potion would take effect soon, how far would she have to take this? He would never forgive her once he learned the reason why she had pursued him. She began to pull away, feeling ashamed that she had taken advantage of his sickness.  His hands were hot on her skin as he pulled down the gown, when they suddenly paused against her back. She looked down at his face and she saw the dawn of awareness in his unfocused eyes.

“What was in the wine?” he asked. He stood up suddenly and Persephone fell to the ground, watching aghast as Hades stumbled like a drunken man to the window. She leapt towards him, grasping his arm tightly as he began to fall and half pulled him to the bed. “What did you put in the wine, Persephone?” he demanded again, his words slurring.

“I am sorry,” she whispered, “but you need to sleep.” She gave a sudden cry of pain as she felt his disordered attempt to probe her mind. But she knew, despite his stupor, he had found the memory of her in Hypnos’ cave.

“You lied to me? You drugged me and seduced me and use my feelings for you...” He did not finish his sentence, trying to push himself from the bed, but she forced him gently back down, his powerful body helpless against the lethargy.

“You were going to lock yourself in Tartarus,” she replied fervently. “I could not allow you to sacrifice yourself.”

His head shook on the pillow, his dark hair falling against his face as he groaned. “This will not work, Persephone. Why did you do it?” He reached down to touch his wound and his glazed eyes laughed mirthlessly at the blood staining his fingers. “Why?” he whispered again. “My wound still bleeds. I know it was not love.”

“You will be safe,” she said softly.

“No, Persephone,” he whispered, the bleakness in his voice causing a shiver to run down her spine. “All you have guaranteed is the destruction of me and possibly yourself. There is no honor in what is to come. This will not hold me.”

“You will be safe,” she said again, the tremble in her voice making it a question. She bit her lip as she hurried from the room, returning with a bouquet of poppies. His eyes were closed and she hoped he had fallen asleep but his hand shot out and grasped her wrist, his fingers slack against her skin.

“Get those cursed flowers away from me,” he growled at her. His hand dropped from her suddenly and she grasped his arm, tucking it carefully against his side.

She brushed his dark hair from his face and he pressed his feverish head against her palm. “Rest, my King, rest.” She ran her fingers over his lips and then poured another vial into his mouth watching as a drop of the elixir fell from his lips down onto his pale skin, like blood in the snow. “Forgive me,” she whispered. “Forgive me for everything.” His lips were red from the poppies and she leaned down pressing her mouth against his, tasting the bitter potion against her tongue. “Is it you I distrust, or is it myself? If I were to tell you the truth... If you were not cursed, would you really love me? Could you love me? Could anyone love someone as foolish as I?” She stared down at his dark beautiful face. “You see, it is I who am cursed. I who am not able to love.” She bent again kissing his forehead and then slipped from the room praying that she had done the right thing.