Persephone

I gazed out of the window as the sky turned pink with the oncoming dusk. The underworld wasn't forever cloaked in night like I'd expected. Instead, it brought forth an intensity I had never encountered before, and the colours took my breath away. I was told the underworld was cold and sunless yet from the golden sunrises to the deep green foliage, the underworld was painted with the colours of vitality that is so at odds with itself it seemed almost manic.

The intensity stretches to all manner of things here, including its occupants; primarily its god and ruler; Hades who also happened to be my betrothed.

I turned to face him where he stood as stoic as ever; tall and formidable in obsidian robes. His moonstone skin shone in the dimming light yet a faint blush on his neck betrayed his "unfeeling god" pretence. I wanted to press my lips to that blush just to see what he would do.

Although we were to be married soon, we hadn't so much as embraced. I didn't mind of course, for he was still a stranger to me but I was becoming curious about him, attracted even.

So often I'd catch him staring at me only for him to quickly look away and that glorious blush would appear as if on command. I don't understand it when he apparently made such a fuss, demanding Zeus consent to our marriage (which he didn't do, but then he didn't forbid it either.) And for what? So he could hold me captive in his land of lost souls, barely able to look at me?

For some ungodly reason, he'd chosen now to tell me he's in love.

"I don't believe you" I said, sashaying past him to the table on the far wall, laden with food for this evening's supper. I picked up the carafe of wine and filled a goblet to the brim with the blood red liquid. I watched Hades over the rim of the glass as I took a sip, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

Silly, uptight fool I thought, taking a long pull of the wine.

"I mean it" he said, taking a step towards me, "I love you and I..."

"Stop!" I raised a hand to him. Setting the goblet back on the table, I took a deep, steadying breath, "I'm not an idiot Hades, you don't have to pretend."

He tried to speak but I stopped him again, "I know you need a wife and to be fair, I'm a very good choice for you." And there it goes, that dusky blush I could set my clock to.

I went to pick up the goblet again yet my eyes fell on a platter of cut pomegranates; their insides spilling out all bloody and sinewy like the ventricles of a heart.

Hades watched me eye the pomegranates and took a step towards me, then another, then another until we were toe to toe, my buttocks resting on the edge of the table.

I always thought his eyes were quite colourless but as he looked fixedly down at such close proximity, I saw that they're far from colourless but stormy grey; the exact colour of the souls he watches over. Not only that, there's a kindness within them, so rarely seen in other gods. Could this one have an aptitude for patience? Mercy? Forgiveness?

He leaned towards me hesitantly, as though he didn't want me to feel trapped, yet he wasn't going to let me get away either. He was so close I could feel the warmth of his strong body, and the scent of him; like vespertine flowers, woodsmoke and something else, it reminded me of the breeze through a window on a sleepless summer night; unexpected and extremely alluring. There is so much that makes up this man and somehow, despite our strange circumstances, I want to learn more.

"Persephone," he breathed, "I can't let you stay here, and we can't be married."

Our eyes locked as my hand closed over a pomegranate, I felt its juices ooze between my fingers, "why ever not?" I asked innocently.

Hades' hand closed over mine.
"Don't" he said, his voice tinged with sadness as he realised what I was about to do.

Slowly, without taking my eyes from his, I lifted his hand to my mouth and licked away the pomegranate juice; seeds and all.

"Not the seeds" his voice shook, but it was too late. I'd eaten the seeds and so now I was his.

A queen.

"There are things I want, Hades" I said, watching that blush grace me with its delightful presence once again.

"You might be one of them."