Chapter 23 - The Game

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They woke in each other’s arms, her beautiful back pressed against the front of his body, and against all odds, he felt himself harden again. The morning light flickered through the trees to make patterns on their bare skin and Hades brought his mouth to Persephone’s neck, tickling and kissing her with his lips.

She turned over with a smile and they lay nose to nose. “Good morning,” she greeted him contentedly.

“Good morning,” he said, smiling as he saw the delicious blush that moved up her face.

“You are a skilled lover,” she said suddenly.

He laughed. “Thank you. I was using every skill I had learned over the centuries. I have had the advantage of time, you know.” He lifted her hand, letting his fingers travel lazily over the delicate bones of her wrist. He shook his head, reading her thoughts, as he brushed the dark strands of hair from her face. “There is nothing common about you, Persephone, including this. I have never felt these feelings before, or tasted something so… enticing. The light of the universe spills from you, my little flower.” He did smile this time as he watched her whole body turn red.

“Well, how many Goddesses have you known?” she questioned.

“I have known many,” he said. He saw the insecurity flash in her eyes. “Persephone,” he began gently. “You forget I once lived amongst the Olympians. After the war, the Gods would celebrate with orgies; their bodies so entwined you could not tell where one ended and the other began. I saw many things there. But I have never seen what pours from you.”

“And were you...one of the entangled bodies?”

“I was not,” he confirmed.

“And my … my mother?” she asked.

Hades gently took her hand. “After the wars your mother was absent from the temple, spending her time with Iasion.” The relief on her face was instantaneous.  “Her commitment to him drove Zeus mad. He lusted over her until his desire became a sickness. He let everyone believe that he had caught her, used her, and discarded her.”

“I wish,” she said wistfully, “I wish that my mother could see my father again.”

“You know that is not possible, Persephone,” he said in a soft voice.

“I cannot bring her into Elysium. As the Queen of the Underworld, you are the only other besides me who is permitted to travel between worlds.  Even as a Goddess, your mother is not able to come into the Kingdom of the Dead. My palace is the last stopping point. Only the most ancient, powerful of Gods may enter and they can only stay a short period of time.”

She tangled her hand with his. “I know, but it is so unfair that Zeus took everything away from them.”

“Not everything,” he replied, kissing her nose. “No more sadness now, my love. I think we should return to the house before your father finds us.”

He helped her to dress and it took twice as long as usual, as he explored each curve and hollow before he covered it. By the time they made it back the temple she was breathless and flushed. She went into her room and she saw he had come in with her and she held out her hands, shoving him out.

“Enough,” she cried. “I can hardly walk and I need to get dressed and ready for the day!”

He laughed as she closed the door against him, and she leaned against the frame and could not help the wide smile that spread across her face. She loved him, she wanted to cry it out, screaming it aloud until even cursed Zeus himself heard her.

“I love him.” She whispered it to herself, tasting the words on her lips. She decided she liked it very much, indeed.

She dressed quickly, choosing a pink gown that was as light and airy as her joyous mood. By the time she went out to the courtyard, Hades stood with two longbows in his hand. He smiled appreciatively, watching her move closer to him.

“Do you know how to shoot?” he asked her.

Persephone made a derisive noise,  placing both hands on her hips. “I can outshoot you.”

A grin spread across his face. “Ah, my confident wife. Want to bet on that?”

Taking an arrow from the quiver, she eyed him. “Let us make a bet. If I win, we come back to Elysium and have an official honeymoon -- a whole week. You will have to let Charon take over. Or perhaps, Cerberus.”

“Oh that is tempting. If I win, however, you judge the souls tomorrow. All of them.”

She looked at him aghast. “That is a horrible bet! Choose something else!”

“It is what I want. Not all of us only think of going to bed, Persephone.” He gave her an angelic look and this time she actually snorted. “Now, how bad do you want that honeymoon?” He queried. “I very much want to get out of work.” His long fingers released the string of the bow and the arrow thudded hard into the bullseye.

“Hmm, decent,” she murmured, stifling a yawn beneath her delicate hand. “You are shattering my perception of you, I thought you lived to work.” Persephone pulled the bow close to her chest, then let loose the arrow and it made a small zing as it flew straight through Hades’ shaft, slicing his wooden arrow in two.

“I have married Eros!” he cried with mock surprise. “Beginner’s luck.”

“It is not luck! My mother taught me, and father taught her,” she said indignantly.

Twisting the string of his bow, he picked up another arrow. “I have a feeling your mother taught your father. Next time, remind me to ask for a lesson.” He grinned at her. “Best of three?”

His arrow flew from the bow hitting the center of the target again, splintering her arrow.

Persephone concentrated her aim, then shot. She let go with deadly precision, once again, cutting his arrow in two. “You are almost as good as I am,” she said, her smile sycophantic. She sobered as she saw the casual way he held the bow in his hand. This God had fought in the most vicious wars this world had known. “Did you fight with a bow in the Titanomachy?”

“No, I was a close-range combatant.” The quiver held only two arrows, he looked to her. “You shoot first this time.”

She drew the arrow out, taking her time to arrange her bow, but when she released it she could tell she had overcompensated and gave a sigh of disappointment as the arrow narrowly missed the bullseye. “Looks like you will have tomorrow off duty, husband.”

“How lucky for me,” he murmured. “I am quite fatigued.” Hades placed the last arrow lazily in his bow and carelessly drew back, the arrow not even making it to the target. “Oh dear,” he said with mock distress, “I missed.”

“You threw the game!” she hissed with indignation.

“Did I?” He asked, a slow smile pulling his lips as he stepped towards her. “I think you overestimate my skill.” His hand slowly began to push the gown from her shoulders.

“What are you doing!”

“The God of the Dead always pays his debts.” And with that, he bent his head to hers.

They fell asleep, exhausted and sated, their sweat slick bodies clinging to each other. Hours had passed, when suddenly she was jolted from sleep, the room now covered in darkness. A rustling noise had awoken her and she glanced at Hades; he was in the throes of a bad dream. He was breathing rapidly and his body thrashed beneath the covers, sweat drenching his skin. “No,” he cried, his hand was clutching the sheet so tightly she saw his knuckles whiten.  Were these the same nightmares that had haunted him when she had made him drink the elixir of poppies?

“Mother!” His voice was an agonized cry.

“Hades,” she whispered urgently. “Wake up!” She shook his shoulder, but he remained tightly trapped in his nightmare. Closing her eyes, she opened her mind to his, willing him to listen. Wake up, she pleaded, her words a cry in her head.

His dark eyes flashed open and he jerked out of bed, gasping for breath. She wrapped her arms  around him, pulling him close to her and he laid his head against her heart.

“What did you dream of?” she inquired softly.

For a moment all he did was breathe against her and then he finally replied, “I watched myself kill my mother again. I see her face over and over… as I plunge my blade into her and I watch her die. It plays out endlessly in my dreams -- my eternal nightmare. ” He pulled himself away from her, burying his face in his hands and she felt the shiver that ran over his broad back. “I am a murderer, a failed assassin who sent the one he loved best to her grave.” He looked at her suddenly, his hands moving to grasp hers. “I fear that I love you so much. I am cursed to lose those whom I love. I could not bear if I--”

“Hades,” she intervened, moving closer to him. “Nothing is going to happen to me. You are innocent,” she said, brushing her lips against his. “Your mother loved you. She drove that blade into her chest, not you.”

He dropped his head, pressing his forehead to hers. “Persephone,” he whispered, “I wonder if I am selfish to keep you here, in this darkness. I have seen where the shadows lead. My brothers’ have a blood price that is yet to be paid. Zeus will rewrite history and he will sacrifice as many innocents as necessary to come out the victor. He will not tolerate my happiness and you make me… very happy. Sooner or later, he will make his move against me. I do not want this vendetta to touch you.”

She jerked up, pressing her fingers against his jaw, bringing his face to hers. “I am not leaving you. I will not leave you. We have not been through all of this only to be separated now. Whatever you face -- I will face it with you.”

“I do not deserve you, my fierce Queen. You deserve a prince with a light beauty to match yours. I am afraid you only ended up with a shadowed phantom.”

“But I am made of shadows, dark prince, and it is you who lights my soul,” she said softly. “I will not leave you.”

“But--”

“Hush,” she said firmly. “Let us go back to sleep, I will protect you from any bad dreams.”

She cradled him in her arms like she would a wee babe, and to her surprise his breathing eventually slowed and she knew he slept. The hours passed, but her eyes did not close. She watched and guarded in the blackness, making sure that nothing came to touch him.