A Slice of (Eternal) Life


"This is the most romantic thing I have ever seen."

"I agree. Don't you just love this?"

"This might just be the greatest romance of our time. I want to commission Orpheus to write a ballad commemorating this stirring love. A truly singular passion."

"Since yesterday, anyway."

"Oooh, yes. I especially liked the way she exploded."

"Look, he's stroking her cheek. I bet in a second he'll clutch her hand and swear to spend the rest of her life in eternal, monogamous bliss."

"The only way this could get better is if it follows the same pattern as yesterday."

"You mean when Zeus turns into some barnyard animal and they'll make sweet bestial love for hours on end, or when she births him a whelp and Hera explodes into her mighty homicidal fury and obliterates the entire street the woman lives on?"

"I meant when her husband comes home, but that's all good stuff too. I'm so happy with what we have."

"What, a functional marriage?"

"The whole kidnapping thing aside, yes. I love you."

"I love you too. Now pass the popcorn, because her husband just walked through the door."


Everyone knows the story of Hades and Persephone. The creation of the seasons, a god of darkness kidnaps a daughter of life and summer, and sucks her down to the depths of Hell, where the innocent girl of sunshine is tricked into consuming the fruit of the Underworld, and therefore must stay there forever, only to be saved by the intervention of her loving mother.

This is not that story. Or not quite.

To cut what could be a very long story short, yes. A good amount of the common tale did in fact occur – or, at least, the tale follows the plot points: a young goddess was taken without her mother's permission by the Lord of the Underworld, she did eat the seeds of a pomegranate, she was left to be Lady of the Underworld for half of the year, before spending the other half in the company of her mother in sunlight.

However: anyone who could declare that Persephone was unhappy as Hades' wife would be horribly, almost painfully wrong. Persephone adored her kingdom. She loved her role, what she could do. She relished her time with her husband. You see, when you spend a few thousand years frolicking in field of flowers, giggling and singing with doting nymphs and a mother that refused to let you be out of her sight for more than one hour, never seeing or having to deal with anything like that again is the best thing in the entire world.

She loved the grimness of the Underworld – one particular hobby of hers was creating new, inventive, revolting and humiliating punishments for the damned. (The rack and flayed skin were all well and good, but where was the variety?)

Hades loved the sight of his wife's smile whenever she proposed a new plan of undying horror for some vile rapist.

All moral difficulties of the beginning of their marriage aside, sometimes the ends do justify the means. Besides, the functionality of their marriage often allowed them to find a great deal of humour in the antics of their relatives, particularly their ridiculous romantic endeavours.


"So how are we going to deal with that Sisyphus prick? First, he chains Thanatos so that no one dies-"

"As if you didn't appreciate the time to organise a better filing system for souls-"

"-BUT then he makes sure that his wife disrespects burial rights, so he has an excuse to go back up to the Upperworld and harp her into doing the burial properly, and then he manages to trick us all into letting him stay alive for another year! What the hell are we going to do? I refuse to have to deal with him stirring up shit for the rest of eternity!"

"I know all that, Hades! And I have an idea!"

Hades swung his head to stare at his wife, his eyes bugging in their sockets. Persephone sat back in her chair, the spread sheets on the table in front of her depicting a collection of violent punishments for a new flock of brutal murderers that had been executed after a stint in prison. She was easily the loveliest thing in the room.

Persephone leaned over her blueprints, shoving a lock of hair behind her ear as she did. Shifting aside some papers, she pulled out a sheet of paper that had been scribbled on in black ink. Some of the images were moving, demonstrating the punishment depicted in closer, gorier detail.

"Look at this. I thought it up a few weeks ago. Criminal gets a never-ending punishment: get one of those really steep hills in Tartarus, and a perfectly circular boulder. The criminal has to push the rock up the hill, and every time it gets close to the top of the hill, the boulder wrenches itself out of their grasp, and rolls straight back down to the bottom of the hill. Every. Single. Time. Forever."

As she spoke, the blueprint of the punishment acted out the description against the paper. Hades scrubbed a hand over his jaw, exhaustion radiating from his person. He had been having a very irritating week.

"You truly are amazing, you know that?"

Persephone's answering smile lit up the room, and Hades could feel himself relax.


Cerberus was gnawing on the branch that had been used for their game of fetch as Persephone bit into an apple. The Gates to the Underworld were almost constantly congested with the spirits of the dead, and most spirits had found the chance to proceed faster through the gates while Persephone distracted the three-headed guard. Not normal protocol, but Cerberus hadn't eaten any spirits since Persephone had come to visit. Hades wouldn't particularly care.

Truly, the only things that could make Hades actually show emotion were often:

Trying to bring the dead back to life, especially without his permission (hello there, Asclepius),

Disrespecting his wife, especially in front of him (Pirithous, Theseus, did you really think you'd get away with it?), and

Disrupting the clock-cog-like workings of the Underworld's system for filing spirits to the different sections to spend the rest of eternity.

Actually, thinking of Pirithous and Theseus, she should check to see how they were. The two arrogant men were still seated in those chairs, the ones that kept them latched to the seats. She could check and see whether or not they were almost dead yet. Persephone turned away from Cerberus, still with his stick, and strode toward the main gates. As she did so, the ferry boat docked, and off stepped a man that still had blood running through his veins, a heart still beating steadily.

This man was the hero Heracles. He called toward Persephone's retreating form, trying to quickly catch up with her pace.

"I beg your pardon, my lady –" at this, Persephone stopped and stared at the hero. It was not often, after all, for the Queen of the Undead to be in her realm of rule, yet encounter someone very clearly . . . well, alive.

"Yes?" she said.

"My name is Heracles –" she cut him off with a wave of her hand.

"I know who you are, mortal. What are you doing here, in my husband's realm, clearly still alive?"

"That is what I wished to speak with you about, my lady. I come from the world above to beseech you and the wealthy lord Hades to free the companions Pirithous and Theseus from your realm." He looked a queer mix of terrified and ashamed at having to ask the request, knowing the foolishness that the two had committed that led to their imprisonment in the Underworld.

Persephone blinked, folded her arms, and took a step toward the shame-faced man.

"You do know why those two fools have not left the Underworld, yes? You know that they believed themselves worthy to have whatever woman they wished as a wife, in their bed? You know that Pirithous somehow believed himself worthy of my hand? Me? The Queen of the Underworld, Goddess of the Afterlife, Daughter of Zeus, the Heavenly King, and Demeter, the Ruler of the Lives of Men?! What idiot would think to take me by force?!"

Heracles, despite standing upright, could feel himself cowering before figure of divinity standing before him. Still, he had a mission to rescue his dumbass friend, and his dumbass friend's dumbass best friend, and he would have to carry it out, no matter if the Iron Queen of the Underworld looked ready to obliterate him where he stood.

"Your anger is completely justified, your grace, and given a choice I would not object to your decision to punish them as you see fit. However, I am here on behalf of the people of Athens, over whom Theseus rules as king, and the people of Lapiths, over whom Pirithous rules with a child heir. As Theseus is king with only a council as an acting heir, I beseech you to release he and Pirithous to the world above, so as to prevent Athens and Lapiths from falling into anymore chaos than the cities already have since their kings imprisonment."

"You cannot have Pirithous," spoke Hades, summoned by Heracles' presence of life within his realm. "He dole out a grave insult to my queen by assuming that she was a prize for his taking. Theseus merely kidnapped a beautiful child."

(Persephone and Hades had spent a good amount of time being disgusted together at the behaviour of the two men when they first entered the realm.)

"Be that as it may, the lands above need rulers to prevent anarchy." Hercules was ready to drop to his knees and beg at this point.

Hades and Persephone shared a Look. It was the Look of two people that knew how the situation would have to end, if only for the sake of squabbling mortals, but neither divine figure would enjoy it. Well. Not entirely enjoy it. Hades spoke for the both of them.

"Fine. If these idiots mean so much to the mortals, you can have the idiot in charge of Athens back, but the other shit has to stay here. He was the one foolish enough to think he could steal my queen. Take the son of Poseidon and leave this realm."

Heracles immediately accepted and hurried off, both to collect the king of Athens, and to leave the Underworld, hopefully until his own demise.

Hades wrapped his arms around Persephone as they watched the bastard son of Hades' horny-idiot brother that ruled them all scurried away.

"Aren't demigods and mortals the most annoying creatures to behold?"