Chapter 27 - Parted

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They knelt in the water of the Styx and Hades pulled her towards him, the gentle waves pulsing around them. “Persephone,” he cried. “I told you, do not eat the seeds of the pomegranate. Those seeds are cursed, there is no way to reverse this. It cannot be undone. You are a prisoner here. You belong to this dark world now.”

She pulled back, her green eyes flashing. “I do not want to undo it. You think that I would let them take me from you? You are mine and I am yours. Zeus would remove me from this Kingdom and I would be unable to protect it, and I promised you I would. I am bound now -- irrevocably; bound to the Underworld, and to you. Whatever perils you face, I face them with you, whatever sorrows you have are mine too.” She pressed her lips against his. “You sing the song of my soul; you have seen my darkness and I have seen yours. I am as much a part of the shadows as I am of the light.”

He cradled her against his chest, letting the water wash away the blood, cleansing them of the putrid stench of death. “How many seeds did you eat?” he asked in a rough voice.

"Six. All six seeds on the necklace and I would have eaten more if I could have."

“Six,” he echoed in horror. “You will not be allowed on Earth for six months of the year. You are entombed here. A prisoner.”

“Hades,” she said with a smile, “this is my home. Wherever you are is my home. Come, let us go to your room.”

She helped him as he limped from the river, down the quiet hallways of his palace. He collapsed on the rug near the fire, as Olive nudged the door open. For a quiet moment, they sat before the hot flames, a small, broken family. Hades watched his wife carefully, seeing the red lights that danced occasionally within the emerald depths, like fire spreading over a forest.

“Persephone, the Olympians-- they will still be coming for you.” He shivered and she frowned as she looked up at him.

“What is wrong?”

“Ares scratched me.” He touched the small wound at her neck, closing the skin the rest of the way with the healing warmth of his fingertips. “You do not seem to be suffering any ill effects.”

“Mine was barely a scratch.” She began pulling at his wet robes. “Take them off! Let me see.”

He laughed unsteadily. “You always seem to be undressing me these days.”

“Hmph,” she murmured, bending over to inspect the long gashes over his thigh and abdomen. “They look like they are festering already. I need to clean them. Can you tolerate the pain?” She asked, raising her eyes to his. He nodded and she grabbed a poker from the hearth, holding it over the flame. She raised her hand over the glowing rod and whispered, “Tui gratia Iovis gratia sit cures.” He stiffened at her words, and she moved to stand  over him, her eyes crimson in the shadows as she lowered the poker. His flesh sizzled as she cauterized the wound and Hades breathed in sharply, sweat covering his body, but he did not utter a word of protest. She eyed him and he nodded; she placed the rod into the flame again and came back, repeating the incantation as she held it over the gaping flesh of his stomach.

“Where did you learn that spell?” he breathed, as his flesh sizzled once more when she lowered the poker.

She hesitated only briefly, then lifted her hand with a small smile, an aloe plant held in her palm. “One cannot ingest the seeds of the tree of the Underworld without being imparted some dark knowledge.” She carefully broke a leaf from the plant, rubbing the soothing, cool juices against his burnt, pink flesh.

His brows drew together, but he was silent as he reached for her. “Your turn,” he whispered.  Hades leaned forward kissing her, taking his time to remove her wet, bloodied clothing. After he washed every part of her skin, he pulled her against him and they lay before the fire, waiting. The time for goodbye was coming soon. Hades could hear the footsteps echoing down the halls and when the knock came on the door he was already standing. Persephone grasped for him, but he took her hand gently into his, pulling her to her feet.

“Come, my love. There is no preventing what is to come.”

“I do not want to go!” she cried, dragging her feet. “Do not let them take me.”

“I know.” He quickly wrapped a robe over himself then pulled one of her own dressing gowns from his closet. “But this is only temporary, you ensured that you will come back to me.” He brushed his hands over her face, then taking her hand, opened the door. Charon stood before them and he silently lead them towards the throne room.

The doors were open and Hermes stood with his back to them, his caduceus held firmly in one hand. He turned suddenly, and his eyes moved over Persephone as he bowed to them both. “I am sorry, Hades,” his voice was soft, appealing, as he continued, “but I must take her back. Zeus is -- enraged. He seems to have weakened with the fall of Ares.” Hermes twisted his staff thoughtfully between his hands. “He lays in his chambers, ill, but his fury is strong. He says you kidnapped Persephone. You brought your seal above ground. You climbed up one of the peaks of Olympus and almost killed his son. No no, you have broken too many rules, Hades. You flaunted the laws of Olympus and for that you must be punished. Persephone must be returned to her mother.”

“My brother heard the Queen’s words,” Hades replied coolly. “Persephone partook of the pomegranate. Six seeds were ingested and by Zeus’ own curse she must remain within my world for sixth months. No matter how many tantrums he throws within his bed chambers, it does not negate this truth.”

Hermes’ blue eyes flashed and he stepped closer to them. “You both play a dangerous game, Dispater.”

“This is no game,” Hades said softly.

Hermes gaze flickered over Persephone again. “Did you ingest these seeds of your own free will, Persephone?”

Flames flared in her eyes and Hermes took a wary step back, and Hades could not help his smile. “They do not call me Persephone here, messenger.” Her voice was low and she advanced closer to the God. “I freely ingested the fruit of the Underworld, but my husband already told you this.”

“I see,” he replied slowly, he cocked his head to one side, studying her face. “I had heard you were changed, Queen, but I did not know how much. Nevertheless, six months from this day I will bring you back to your husband. Tonight, I am afraid you must leave with me.”

“One more night,” Persephone demanded, her voice cold.

Hermes looked at them exasperated. “I cannot. Zeus will tear out my heart. You must come with me.”

“You are lucky I do not tear it out and eat it,” Persephone hissed. She pointed to the door. “Leave, messenger, so that I may say goodbye to my husband.”

As soon as the door closed on Hermes’ rigid back, Persephone collapsed against Hades, tears pouring from her eyes. He held her shivering form tightly against him, stroking back her hair. “Do not cry, sweet one, we will see each other again. Six months is not long and Olive and I will be waiting for you.” He brushed his lips over her face, her eyelids, her nose.

“Olive!” she cried. “My father, I cannot--” her voice cracked and Hades pulled her closer.

“Hush, I will take care of them in your absence. They will, like I, wait for you to return. Such a short time means nothing for those who love.”

“The Fates were right,” she whispered. “I wasted so much time, hating you, fighting you.”

“No, no Persephone,” he whispered fiercely. “No time was wasted between us, I would do nothing to change how I feel for you in this moment. Nothing,” he breathed against her lips.

A knock on the door echoed in the chambers. He kissed the tears away from her face. “Do not let them see your sorrow, my Persephone. They do not deserve those parts of you. Are you ready?” He looked down at her, her face pale, and she bit her trembling lip, but nodded. “Enter,” Hades called.

By the time Hermes returned, her cold mask was back in place and Hades struggled to ensure his own was, as well. They stopped by his chambers, bringing Olive with them, and Persephone held the deer tightly against her chest. Hades held Persephone's hand, and they walked from the castle down the long path toward the entrance of the Underworld, Hermes walking behind them. Her eyes kept filling with tears which she wiped away on Olive’s fur, and she pressed her hand tightly against his.

“Be a formidable Queen,” he whispered, and she shot him a half-smile that broke his heart. As they approached midway to the gate, he lifted his left hand and a blinding blue light came through the gates as an eclipsed crescent moon formed over the exit.

A choked cry escaped her lips, “I do not like goodbyes.”

The large gates echoed in the vast cavern as they unlocked. “Go wander, Hermes,” Hades hissed at the messenger,

and with a small salute the God moved passed the gates and they were alone.

They turned to face each other, Olive pressed tightly between their bodies. “How will I live without you?” she whispered.

“You will never be without me. Even if my soul was ripped from me, I would find my way back to you.” Something flickered in his dark eyes. “No matter what is to come, I will always find you.” He twisted his fingers and murmured, “Olympus.” The light of the crescent moon burned black. “You know,” he continued, “I never thought I would find you. That I could find a reflection of my own soul, all the parts of me that were good; I find them in you. You are--everything, Persephone.”

As they came to the gate, she pressed her face against Olive, planting a soft kiss between his eyes before setting him on the ground. Hades gently took her hand and led her to the opposite side but did not cross the threshold. The gates closed and locked and Persephone gave a small cry, reaching her hands through the bars. He grasped her hands.

“It feels like a prison,” she cried.

“For me or you?” he whispered.

“For us both.”

“Do not forget my love, that a part of you still belongs to the world above,” he said, stroking her fingers. “Selfish as I am, I cannot deny this. You are half lightness, half darkness. Part rebirth, and part death. They need you -- as I do. And when the first snowflakes fall across the meadows, I will come for you. Do not doubt it.”

“I may belong to both worlds, but my soul is yours, as is my heart.”

“As is mine, to you,” he replied.

“Do not forget me,” she whispered.

He wiped the tears from her eyes, “Never.”

Hermes appeared behind her. “Come, Queen,” he said quietly. “It is time to leave.”She did not turn, letting her eyes drift over Hades. With one last look, she moved from the gates. Hermes moved closer to her, about to take her hand when she shook her head. “I have no need of your touch, Hermes.”

Hermes gave a gentle nod of the head. “As you wish, your majesty.” A beacon of light shone down on them and they began to move upwards, ascending into the shining whiteness. Persephone turned her back to Hermes and kept her eyes locked on her husband. They moved further away and Hades stood still at the gates, watching until she disappeared into the light and was gone.

He did not move from the gates, but stood staring into the darkness, his hands wrapped tightly around the iron bars. A prison. Olive’s soft head pressed against his leg and he bent to pick up the deer. He began to retrace his steps to the palace, not even aware of the direction he headed. He stopped at Persephone’s door, noticing that the room was still in disarray, the message of blood still covering the wall. Had such a short time passed that no one had touched it? It would have to be cleaned when the servants came to the palace. He moved to his rooms, settling the deer on his bed, then wandered aimlessly around his lonely, empty palace. His feet took him to the room made of ruby. It held all the weapons of the Underworld, including the pitchfork, gifted by the cyclops. Hades held up his hand, and the blue sword appeared. With a wave of his hand he unlocked a secret chamber within the wall and stashed the sword away. He held up his hand again and Persephone’s mahogany bow materialized in his grasp, while his helmet appeared in his other. He sat the helmet against the floor then brought the bow closer to his face. His touch was loving as he inspected the beauty of the bow, the delicate engravings of pomegranates carved into the weapon. With this she had given her freedom, sacrificed her fate to protect him, to protect this beautiful, dark world. He reverently hung it onto the wall.

Suddenly, he felt a dark presence; a malevolent shadow that was watching him. He turned slowly; the room was empty but he felt the insidious, malignant wraith.  Hades. His name echoed through the chambers, like a cursed whisper, like a warning.

He peered once more into the darkened corners but he stood alone in the shadows. He moved quickly, locking the compartment his sword was hidden in. Turn around, the voice whispered.

“Who is there?” Hades demanded. “Show yourself!”

Did you think it would be that easy?

Suddenly, he fell to the ground, writhing in pain as he grasped the wound over his stomach. The sensation was shocking and he gasped, crying out as a burning agony moved through his body, travelling from the wound to his head, and he began to convulse, his limbs seizing. His anguished cries turned to laughter and his coherent mind was reminded of Ares as he had stood on the cliff, but that thought was ripped from his head and he lay blank and empty in the hall of ruby.  He stood abruptly, a smile on his face as he grabbed the helmet of invisibility and exited the room.