Pomegranates in Springtime
"Sowing is not as difficult as reaping."
-Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe
Prologue:
The Sowing of Seeds and Jealousy
She never came to Mount Olympus - at least, she never came without a good reason.
Zeus raised an eyebrow as she entered into his chambers, but did not move to greet her. Instead, he remained on the ivory divan, his body still. It truly was remarkable how incredibly beautiful he looked there, like an immaculate sculpture. The gossamer silk and linen complimented his skin, bringing warmth to his fair complexion and cascaded off the divan as if it were water.
He was breathtaking.
However, Zeus did not smile or give any sign of emotion for what it was worth. Instead, his storm-colored eyes bore into the goddess who stood before him, a hint of skepticism sparkling in his eyes.
In reality, it was only a second before he spoke. "Demeter," He acknowledged with a slight nod.
With this, Demeter smiled. Her sunshine-colored hair fell down far beyond her shoulders - a change from her usual braided updo. "Zeus," She greeted. There was a hint of pleasantry in her voice that Zeus did not neglect to look over; he recognized the tone as one she reserved for him particularly when she wanted something.
Demeter did not wait for Zeus to respond before approaching him. Boldly, she joined him on the lounge chair. Her legs crossed as she leaned over, her torso resting against his lefts. Like Zeus, her skin was also fair aside from the rosy tint slowly accumulated from Demeter's time on earth.
Zeus's eyes flashed, mildly annoyed at her disregard for his space. He could not refrain from asking. "What do you want, Demeter?" Zeus finally inquired, his voice coming out sharper than usual.
Demeter did not look at him, but began to finger the silk and linen. "I'm lonely."
He did not even bother to give any further inquiries. Instead, Zeus closed his eyes and let his head fall back onto the pillow. "I have no desire to deal with your petty emotions, Demeter," He spoke in a dismissive tone, wanting nothing more than for Demeter to leave him alone.
Demeter's gaze immediately shifted to Zeus, at first ice cold then softening to a warmer, gentler look. If anything, her gaze suddenly became pleading.
The goddess leaned upon the god without a word, her head resting on his chest. Zeus's chest felt like smooth stone beneath her skin. It was a strangely comforting feeling for Demeter: alien and familiar all in the same .
She closed her eyes, refusing to move. "Give me a child, brother," She spoke, her voice soft and almost inaudible.
Zeus said nothing. He opened his eyes and looked at Demeter; she truly was beautiful, and one of the more beautiful goddesses in Zeus's opinion. She smelled of honey and wheat and was dressed always in raw, earthy materials, but now she was only in a sheer, snow white gown of linen with little adornment and only the ghost of glamour upon her form.
He sighed. It was a shame she was wasting herself on him. "Must your loneliness be cured by childbearing?"
Her eyes opened, and moved back to look at Zeus. She reached out, grazing her fingers along his face. The smoothness of skin was contrasted by the sudden roughness of his beard, a silvery-white color with streaks of gold. Demeter met his gaze. "I am Goddess of the Harvest, Earth, and Agriculture. I am Mother Earth."
Demeter's tone was even, but became one of longing as she continued. "I have harvested grain and wheat, but I've yet to harvest my own child."
Zeus did not bother to break away from her gaze, but a questioning look appeared. "Why do you not ask Poseidon or even Hades?"
She smiled. "I hardly see none other than the King of the Gods fit to give such a blessing-"
"Demeter, I have fathered enough bastard children. I need not to father anymore, especially with you."
Immediately, Demeter tensed before jerking her hand away from her brother, a spiteful gleam in her eyes. It was miraculous how easily anger could harden Demeter, her emerald eyes turning hateful and begrudging. "Perhaps that would not be a concern, had you not chosen Hera to be your wife," She spat, her voice suddenly seething with venom.
For the first time in the duration of their conversation, Zeus felt a pang of guilt. Demeter saw the small and almost nonexistent flinch in the god's physique and continued.
"You have no right to deny me this, to at the very least deny me your consort while Hera and those mortals take you attention-"
Once more, he cut her off. "Hestia has never approached me with such a request."
"Hestia has no need to make such a request as she is a chaste goddess. I am a mother, and I want a child."
It was surprisingly how their voices had started to crescendo, then suddenly stopped. A tense, heavy silence filled Zeus's chambers. The god was close to dismissing Demeter from Mount Olympus all together when he suddenly felt her slim, delicate fingers gripping at the golden drapery upon his chest.
He looked at her, and said nothing, partially out of surprise. There Demeter was, clutching at his chest, her attention downcast. Her corn silk hair fell loosely, becoming a curtain over her face. Even though his vision of her features was obscured, Zeus could just make out the glistening particles in her eyes, which could only be tears.
Zeus had not seen Demeter weep in a very long time.
His expression softened, his cloudy eyes losing their coolness. Gently, he moved her hair aside, revealing her face. Demeter had a regal look about her, but no where near as harsh as Hera's appearance thus making her much more of an appealing candidate for a mother. How ironic it was - Hera's vindictive nature at times could make her anything but a mother.
Demeter tried to avoid interlocking her eyes with that of the god's, obviously uncomfortably with her evident vulnerability. Zeus could feel the shame and embarrassment radiating from her as a result of her damaged pride; he pitied her at first, but soon his heart was invaded by the guilt planted by her words.
He thought of his options as various scenarios ran through his mind. A part of Zeus was angry and frustrated that Demeter was acting in such a pathetic, weak manner. At the same time, there was an opposing sense of responsibility Zeus felt for his kin. It was a sense of caretaking that had developed from the time he tricked Cronus, the very reason for the gods' existence.
Zeus traced his hand along Demeter's cheek, her skin soft and hard all at the same time - soft to gods, indestructible to mortals. As his hand caressed her rose-hued flesh, he slid his grasp down to her chin, tilting her face upward. Hesitantly, her eyes met his and Zeus was faced with the loneliness of a hundred years - a fermentation of agony and deprivation of tender affection.
Sheer, utter pain.
Reaching over, Zeus reached for a crystalline bowl beside the divan. Demeter's eyes were frozen, overcast by his storm-cloud eyes. She could not see what Zeus had taken, but in her mind the physical world had disintegrated into a hazy daze.
His hand clasped, the god pressed his fingers softly against Demeter's lips, gingerly parting her mouth. Willingly, she did so only to taste the flavorful, ripe seed of a pomegranate followed shortly by a kiss.
Consent had been given, and planted by a single seed.
...
...
"I know something you don't."
Hera looked in the mirror, catching the smile of the young woman standing behind her. Pausing for a brief second, Hera turned her attention back to her own reflection and continued to brush her ebony hair. It was a stark contrast to her fair, silvery complexion that could be seen in all of the Olympian deities, but nevertheless contributed to her beauty fit for none other than a queen.
"And what is that?" Hera asked, her voice lacking interest. She did not bother to let the girl answer, Hera placed the brush upon the table and remained seated in front of the mirror. There was no shame detected in her body language as she admired herself in the mirror displaying a vanity that could easily rival Aphrodite's; however, with Hera's perfectly sculpted cheekbones and rouge-stained lips it was hardly deemed questionable.
The young woman stood still, a playful gleam in her onyx eyes. Like Hera, she also had a striking appearance with the same black hair and pallid. Actually, the young woman looked very much like Hera, but with a wildness about her. While Hera's hair was smooth and silky, the other woman had wild curls and loose, revealing satin draped over her slim frame.
Saying nothing, the woman came behind Hera and casually wrapped her arms around the regal goddess, a deadly move as seen by some. Sweetly, she nestles her face in Hera's locks then raised her head to look at their similar reflection. "I favor you," the younger woman spoke, her voice smooth and soothing. Seeing Hera do nothing, the woman ran her hands through the the freshly-combed hair of the goddess, her voice soft, "Mother."
Hera did not smile, though she did not frown either. She simply remained still and unresponsive - it was not long before the young woman pulled away, walking around Hera. "You know I would never betray you," the woman continued, causing Hera's mahogany eyes to narrow, "and that I would never, ever keep anything of value from you."
"I do not wish to waste time on your games, Eris," Hera snapped, her voice brisk and cutting, "if you wish to inform me of something you best do it now."
Eris's grin did not falter. She only giggled softly, her curls a mass of chaos. By this time she had distanced herself a bit from Hera and casually turned her attention to a gilt and enamel figurine of Hera that had been given as a long-ago wedding present. She was turned away from Hera when she spoke. "Demeter is with child."
Hera scoffed. "And why should that be of any concern to me?"
The younger goddess shrugged, a playful glint in her eyes. "Oh, I don't know," she spoke wistfully while walking over to the bed. Eris did not even ask permission before letting herself fall onto the bed, her darkly-dyed dress a stain in Hera's pristine bedchamber. "She is your sister."
Paying no heed to Eris's lack of respect, Hera began to adorn herself in jewelry choosing a nice pair of pearl earrings to start. "Yes, Hestia is also my sister and I honestly could care less what the two do," She spoke fluidly, a bored tone in her voice. Her gaze shifted to Eris, "And if Demeter wants to bear the child of some heathen, let her do so."
Hearing Hera's comment, Eris laughed. Hera raised a finely plucked brow, a hint of annoyance in her voice. "I would love to be enlightened as to what it is that amuses you so," Hera said, a command more than anything else.
Eris sat up on the bed, her lips upturned into a darling smile. The look in her eyes, however, was one of a noxious nature.
"That heathen is your husband."
...
...
Zeus had anticipated Hera's reaction. He knew her well enough to know how she would have felt.
The god had not yet left his chambers, and was silently standing by the window; there was a far off look in his eyes that even resembled apathy. A golden eagle was perched on the window sill, quietly acting as company to Zeus. It easily could have been mistaken for a statue, but the sudden shattering of glass caused its head to turn, eyes suddenly alert and wild.
As the eagle turned, Zeus did as well only to be greeted by an immensely venomous glare.
Violet eyes glowered, challenging the calm, cool gaze of the god. Zeus said nothing, but maintained a collected expression with each muscle in perfect control. Hera, on the other hand, was completely seething.
She stood still, as did Zeus, but her hands trembled, balled into small, elegant fists. That was the strange, wonderfully enthralling thing about Hera: she was truly beautiful, even during her greatest rage.
Zeus of course was not thinking about that now.
He took a step forward. "Hera-"
"You," Hera spat, "You had the audacity to whore yourself once again-"
"Hera," Zeus spoke, briefly silencing the other goddess. "This was not like the other times. It was an arrangement, not some love affair."
Not giving Zeus a chance to speak, Hera focused her attention on a nearby vase and used all her energy to hurl it toward Zeus, the pottery shattering at his feet. She glowered. "An arrangement? You did not just impregnate some unworthy mortal, but my own sister!"
Her voice was a screech, causing the golden eagle to wince slightly. Zeus rubbed his temple, already beginning to develop and unpleasant headache from his wife's yelling.
"Oh, Demeter has always been a jealous wench, but you're no better being such an unfaithful, lowly excuse for a god! That disgusting embryo should be ripped from her womb right now; in fact, I think I'll do just that-"
The moment Hera spoke the last few words of her threat, Zeus immediately appeared before the raven-haired beauty and clasped her slim, ivory throat. He then pressed her against the wall, causing Hera's eyes to shimmer with hate.
Zeus stared at her, his eyes interlocking with hers. When he spoke, he maintained an icy, even tone. "You will not take the life of that child," He stated, "or I will personally see that you regret it."
A heavy silence occupied the room after that, Hera still as stone and Zeus still gripping at her neck. After what felt like hours, Zeus tossed her aside causing the goddess to stumble. Zeus did not bother to look at Hera after that, but he could feel the negativity radiating from her body.
It was not long before he felt her presence evaporate. When he turned, she was gone.
The god walked back to the window, the golden eagle still perched faithfully. After a moment, Zeus went on to construct a small piece of parchment with a small, brief message. He tied the letter with an ivory ribbon and gave it the the golden eagle, which then proceeded out the window into the cloudy, bleak sky.
...
...
Demeter was in her garden when the message arrived. She had not been expecting the arrival of the golden eagle, but accepted the piece of parchment with ease. At the same time, there was a flutter of nervousness deep within her that she could not explain. The goddess only knew that her brother never sent messages in such a manner, unless they were of great importance.
When she opened the letter, she felt her heart drop.
She read silently, but said nothing. She did nothing.
She simply went inside her home, and the eagle flew away.
T.B.C.
Author's Note - So, I've already seen a lot of people on fanfiction retelling the whole "Rape of Persephone" myth. I've seen several different takes, and as much as it's been done, I can't help but feel the need to do one myself. This is honestly one of my favorite stories as there is some quite terrifying and romantic about the whole concept.
With re-telling this myth, I just wanted to make a few notes before I continued so you would all have an idea of what I'm going for and what not. I certainly want to make it as realistic as possible; by that I mean I want to really get into what the characters are thinking, feeling, and what their motivations are. Also, this is not a happy, comical Persephone-likes-being-kidnapped-by-a-sweet-Hades because quite frankly, I just don't want to write that. I don't have a problem with it, but that will not be the case in this store.
Since I'm on a kick with this note, I'm just going to point out some things regarding this first chapter:
1.) I know the incest can be a bit odd, but something to keep in mind is that these characters are gods and not mortals. Therefore, the result of incest is not the same biologically nor is it a taboo.
2.) Zeus/Demeter - These two are interesting; Zeus is usually portrayed as a man-whore, because he is. However, I wanted to explore his relationship with Demeter and the story behind Persephone's birth. This will become clearer as the story progresses.
3.) Hera/Demeter - Being as jealous as she is, I doubt Hera was ok with her sister having her husband's child. Even if incest is ok, that has to be a bit of a backstabber move in Hera's eyes. Another thing is that since Zeus is brother to them both and king of the gods, I feel like there would be a power struggle with Demeter and Hera as well as a jealousy/rivalry with the two. This will come into play more in the story for sure.
I have a good idea of where this is going, but I would like to know how it sounds so far. Please let me know if it's too confusing, too predictable, etc. Constructive criticism is welcome; please forgive the errors as well.
Yours truly,
The Fairie Queen