Summary: Once upon a time, there was a maiden with teal eyes and a king with blue hair who ruled the dead. And their story was one that changed.

Inspired by the myth of Persephone's Abduction. Obviously.

Written when the author was cold and wanted something Greek-y, but couldn't go to the Greek restaurant. Don't own anything.

Once upon a time, there was a girl.

Under the light blue skies that reached far and wide endlessly, on the grassy hills and amongst radiant, jewel-like flowers, she was the most beautiful, most innocent, most pure in her white robes and silky teal hair.

And she was happy.

~ɸ~

Once upon a time, there was a man.

Deep underground, immortal, powerful and pale, he was one of darkness and death, who ruled over the past ghosts and earth's dark insides, the only light his dimly glowing jewels.

And he was satisfied.

~ɸ~

Once upon a time, there was a mother.

She had a beautiful daughter, a comfortable life, a powerful husband, and a marvellous garden.

And she was content.

~ɸ~

(But it's the nature of animation, of life to change, and so change would come to this soon.)

~ɸ~

The dark, cold King came out of his underground palace, and in the light, he was magnificent, hair like dark sapphires with white starlight woven into them, eyes of a deep blue, endless like the oceans and the skies when the time was one for a bit of shade mixed in.

Of Fate and Love's trick, those endless deep eyes fell on the sight of a maiden dancing in the flowers, and they, too, fell under the endless, ageless spell of affection, attraction, and love.

~ɸ~

The maiden with the green-blue, blue-green hair looked up to see a man – a handsome man, but one that was rather frightening, nonetheless – and she screamed.

~ɸ~

(He took her anyways, ignoring her screams and protests and scratches and kicks, because he wanted her and what he wanted, he took.)

~ɸ~

Her mother came rushing back. Where was her babe? Her pride and joy, her lovely daughter?

Her weeping eyes found naught but torn-up hills and trampled flowers, all empty of one loved presence.

~ɸ~

(The lady of the soil and crops wept, and her eyes remain to this day red because of all her tears.)

~ɸ~

And then the king of the dead, the cold man, the master of all the treasures within earth's bosom, met a challenge in the form of a girl who would not stop her own tears, who would not acknowledge him, who would not return his love.

Patiently, he sat next to her and silently showered her with gifts and sweet, soft promises so unlike his usual self that those who served him wondered – and spread the word of the mysterious woman whose beauty was so great that death himself bowed to serve her.

~ɸ~

(Her tears became first a pond, then a stream, and at last a roaring river so that all the dead could cross in their ghost forms, but the living drowned before their flesh could pass.)

~ɸ~

The king of the skies and the husband of the earth's lady and the father of the maiden who loved flowers asked all to search the fields and the seas and the skies and the mountains.

They never thought to search the caves and the underground, and the poor mother wept and cut her hair short, screaming and searching for her daughter who wouldn't do this to her on purpose – where was she? Where?

~ɸ~

The maiden's tears first stopped when his promises – sweet, soft, and all of them intended to be kept by the speaker – offered her freedom, to go where she pleased, out of bounds from her mother's restrictions.

Liberty? That was a gift that had never been offered to her before.

Hesitating, but relishing, that idea, she looked at her kidnapper for the first time in her life.

~ɸ~

(Fate and Love, Love and Fate, who can say what is what and who is who?)

~ɸ~

She fell into the spell of love and attraction as well, because he was, all in all, a handsome man and clealy kind to her, meaning well - or as well as the king of the dead in love could ever really mean - and took his larger, cold hands that were white as winter into her own honey-coloured, warm and sweet-scented ones, and kissed him softly on his bloodless lips with the barest hints of hesitation.

He kissed back.

~ɸ~

The despair of the mother never stopped, and passed on instead, spreading through the once-warm and giving soil to send anguish and misery amongst others – other who were once happy, who once had their loved ones still before she lost hers, ones who once never knew suffering – until none knew happiness on the surface.

~ɸ~

(Below, though, a never ending wedding celebration took place, and everyone noticed the changes of their king, who now smiled and held a woman close to him, and rumors spread further, whispering legends of the beautiful woman who had captivated death.)

~ɸ~

The rumours spread far and wide, and one slipped into the ears of the sky king, who informed his wife of the news.

An army of their kin gathered and marched to the entrance of the dead's land, intent on finding the reason why.

~ɸ~

"I don't want to leave."

"I don't want you to leave."

"But they'll make me."

"They will."

A pause. A soft hand running down his neck and shoulders, running through his hair.

"What do we do?"

~ɸ~

Once upon a time, there was a goddess who lived amongst the dead, weeping softly for the ones who were forgotten.

Once upon a time, her tears watered the only living trees down in the world of the dead.

Once upon a time, those fruits were picked for the purpose of binding.

The forgotten goddess who wept watched as the no-longer a girl or maiden but a woman ate the fruit, swallowing the seeds with determination and love burning in her eyes.

~ɸ~

(And the red juice of the forbidden fruit burst out from in between her lips and dribbled down, staining her face for a bit while she hurried and ate.)

~ɸ~

The shell of the red pomegranate fell from her fingers, and he leaned in close to her. She leaned close to him.

The gods found the two kissing in the garden.

~ɸ~

(She tasted like herself, the springtime and fresh air and lush grass and herbs and flowers and nectar, but she also tasted like the autumn and the pomegranate and the deep of the earth. Or so the King thought. And maybe she did, maybe she didn't.)

~ɸ~

"I love him."

~ɸ~

Her proclamation was met with protests and scorn.

~ɸ~

"I love her."

~ɸ~

His words were shot down with hate, drowned with wails of disgust.

~ɸ~

And just before a war between the living and the dead would have started, the pale, silver weeping goddess stepped in between the two sides, tears still streaming down her tired and wet face.

~ɸ~

"Let us not fight, but come to an agreement."

~ɸ~

And so they listened to the older lady's counsel, heeding her advice and taking in the words of the two lovers before they decreed – for the sake of the earth mother who yearned for her daughter and the daughter who still loved her mother – that half a year would be the time each side could host the maiden with teal hair.

Neither the king of the dead or the lady of the earth was fully happy with losing their loved one – though their affection was different – for even a small period of time to the other, they agreed.

~ɸ~

(When the once-maiden, now-woman returned to her husband in the underworld, she came with a babe in her womb and brought life to the dead.)

~ɸ~

Once upon a time, a mother worried about her daughter. But the daughter grew up to be a woman, and the mother was left with bittersweet memories of a girl-child that left to make her own family circle with a man she loved.

~ɸ~

Once upon a time, a goddess and a god's paths crossed.

Once upon a time, after some incidents, they fell in love.

Once upon a time, their story began anew.

T-F's reaction to her own fic: ...what?