A/N: I'm going to apologize for this upfront. I have NO idea what I was thinking as I wrote this. I just kept thinking about how Hades got a bad rep. He was so much more than the leader of the underworld- a position he did not even ask for. I was considering writing a piece solely on Hades and Persephone, but then of course my Inuyasha brain kicked into gear and here we are. This story is told from Rins (Persephone's) point of view. It's a take on her love story, one where she wasn't kidnapped.
No one asked for an Inuyasha/Greek God mash up, but here it is.
ETA: This has been sitting in my unfinished work for so long. Lens drawings totally gave me the inspiration to get on this and finish it! I decided to make this a multi-part story :)
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Persephone
The legends say that I was kidnapped.
The story tellers still spin the tales of my abduction- if you could call what really happened an abduction- their stories striking fear in the heart of mortals- a warning to all young women. Never set foot outside alone. Keep your wits about you. Be prepared for anything, even the ground swallowing you whole. If you don't, if you are careless, you might end up like Persephone.
Humans and Gods, mortals and immortals alike pity me, pity the waste of my beauty in such a desolate place. How could someone so full of life be condemned to live below the Earths surface, where not even a ray of light breaks through? Persephone, bringer of spring, goddess of grain, Queen of the underworld. They have given me as many titles as they have names; it still surprises me that Rin, my true name, never stuck. Humans are like that though- they will cut away at bits that displease them, at parts that do not fit their stories. Details become less important than the message they are trying to weave.
If I had heard the stories the poets tell of me, I too would feel sadness for the poor young maiden. Forced to marry her captor, forced to spend the better part of her life hidden away, far from the comfort the living world of friends and family. Doomed to spend eternity locked in an unhappy union with the God of death himself.
Of course, my husband is not the God of death. He does not torture the poor souls that make their way here. No, those are jobs best left to someone else. My dear husband does not have that in him- he finds the details of mortals lives far too tedious. Legends, as they so often do, have gotten him completely wrong. An injustice- one he does not deserve. Had the bards knew him better, they could have never accused him of taking me against my will.
In truth, I met him long before he approached my father, respecting the old ways and asking for my hand. Proper. It's not a word that people associate with my husband, the king of the underworld. Then again, there are many aspects of him that are simply overlooked.
No, I had not met him in the underworld when the Earth swallowed me whole. Instead, I had met him in an almost unremarkable way. How strange the story spinners got that part right.
I met him while picking flowers.
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It had been a splendid morning; the sun was high in the sky, warming the world and all those in it. There was a gentle breeze that with it carried the fragrance of wildflowers in the distance. It was the sort of day I loved; it made me want to run into the open fields, to feel the freedom I craved and go where the wind would scatter me. A fantasy, only that. My mother would never have allowed me to go off on my own, to act in such an unbecoming way. So, on days like this, I would settle on picking flowers.
I liked to do that- to capture bits of the spring that I could plant in places that nature did not bloom- in my room by the stone windows, in the kitchens as the servants cooked. I wanted to bring the beauty of spring inside where It did not belong.
"May I go out today, mother?" I tried my best to get her approval, doing my best to make my voice not sound desperate. Mother sheltered me, even in the best of times. I was her precious daughter- one that she found beautiful, powerful. Long before it was appropriate men would leer at me and without fail mother took notice. She did her best to keep me safe. And while I understood her reasoning- truly, I was lucky to have such a devoted mother- I also craved the freedom she denied me. I wanted time to be amongst my creations. "Please?" I added in for good measure, putting on my brightest smile.
She did not even so much as consider my request. "No, not today Rin. I have too much work to do to keep you company." She brought a cup of water to her lips, taking a deep sip.
"You do not need to accompany me!" I quickly said. "I am old enough to go on my own." My mother rolled her eyes. She did not think 16 was old enough for anything. "I just want to go down to the fields to see the flowers, maybe the river bank. Please?"
"Rin, could you not find-"
I leaned on the table, trying to plead with her once more. "Mother, its so nice out today! I cannot be kept locked up inside all day! I need fresh air, and- and- fresh flowers! Mother-"
"You do hear the ridiculousness of your request, right?" she said, raising a disapproving brow, "A goddess of spring complaining that she needs to go out in order to see flowers?"
"Please?" I ended my begging by sticking out my lower lip, looking every bit the part of a begging puppy. Mother threw up her hands in the air, utterly defeated.
"Fine!" She sighed, exasperated. "Take the attendants with you." I expected that, she was always reluctant to let me go. I gave her a smile as I hugged her from behind.
"I will bring you a beautiful bouquet!" I said, "As thanks!" And with that, I took off before she could change her mind.
Mother was lovely; she was good for mankind, did humans a great deed as the Goddess of wheat. Mother was life itself. But she also had dreams for me, ones which I did not necessarily share. I often thought about how she would like to dictate my life, plan out every minute of it if she had her way. I was constantly torn between playing the part of the good daughter and wanting to rebel.
But when I felt the warm sun on my face, felt the cool breeze on my skin, my mother and her plans were the last thing on my mind. In that moment I was free. Kicking of my sandals I let my bare feet touch the grassy Earth, sprinting ahead, leaving my attendance to trail behind me.
I spent my day like that; basking in the sun, picking flowers and making crowns, frolicking by myself with people just far away enough to remind me that I wasn't alone, not really. Sure, I had friends. But they were ones that mother approved of, and secretly, I wondered if they were spies for her, telling her little snippets of my feelings and whereabouts. I never felt completely alone, complete autonomous from her. My mother was a lovely woman, and my admiration for her is still strong to this day; but so much control can be stifling, leaving me gasping for freedom. Letting out a sigh, I sank down into the green meadow to relax, flowers beside me as the sun slowly began to lower. The day was winding down and soon mother would want me back in the nest.
That was the first time I saw him. A god on Earth, resting just across the river.
He looked every bit the divinity he was, his back against the dark brown trunk, a sharp contrast to his long silvery hair. Fair skin, so pale it looked porcelain and robes far more elegant than the richest mortal could hope to afford. He was resting, eyes closed, breathing even; I wondered how many people had seen him in this state, and suddenly became uncomfortable with a twinge of guilt, looking in on a private moment. I was struck by his beauty at once, but a handsome God was hardly a rarity. I had heard gossip of Ares and his build, of Hercules and Apollo. I counted Hermes as a personal friend, and he alone was enough to make women swoon. No, it wasn't his hauntingly good looks that held my attention, but rather the expression on his face; he somehow looked completely at ease, but also supremely pained. It was not a look that showed easily, one had to truly search to find it. But as I stared, longer than anyone would deem polite, I found a deep loneliness, and it troubled me.
I wish I could say I was feeling bold when I made my small jumps on the slippery rocks, making way across the narrow stream, but I was far too intrigued to feel boldness or shame. I was focused on the supernatural entity before me. As I stepped onto the opposite grassy bank, he made no sign of acknowledgement that I was near. He still rested, head reclined at ease. I moved towards him in a crawl, still on my knees from when I raised myself out of the water . For a moment, I was sure that I would get close without him waking. I had no specific plan in mind, only that I needed to be near him; I was drawn and had no idea why.
"Do not come near." He said, voice steady, eyes still closed. "Not if you value your life."
The last part took me off guard, making me freeze on all fours, although there hardly seemed to be bite in his bark. Of course I valued my life; I felt ridiculous and ashamed, but unable to move forward or retreat. I was stuck. Biting my bottom lip, I debated what to do.
"S-Sorry." I stammered, nervousness making my stomach drop. "I didn't mean to disturb you."
"If you're sorry, then leave." He bit out, finally opening his amber eyes, piercing me in place. I couldn't have move if Zeus himself commanded me. Never in my life had I seen a being more beautiful. True, I had lead a sheltered existence until this point, but I was sure I could travel the world twice over and still be awed by his magnificence.
In the days since, when my husband and I talked with fondness of our first encounter, we like to bicker over who was more stricken my whom. Was it I, a mere girl laying eyes upon a sleeping sin, or the God of the underworld, captivated by the look of me on all fours, black hair falling over my shoulder, pale pink dress falling off my shoulder? He even jokes that my flower chain of daises was a sign that I would soon be his wife, the spring crown upon my head.
I've heard the version where the Earth swallowed me whole, a fine symbolism for his great lust for me, eating the fair maiden alive. I've also heard the rather unsavory take of a kidnapping, an act anyone would reject if they knew my husband. Instead, at our first meeting, we stared each other down, a spark between us so strong it could light a fire. We would have stayed like that, spellbound in a trance, if my attendants were not calling for me. Looking over my shoulder I frowned, unhappy that this encounter was soon to be over. I needed to get back, but more than that, I wanted to know this stranger. He raised his finely arched brows, a silent signal that others were coming. I moved closer, a breath away from him. I could practically feel his body tense, as if being in close proximity to another was a foreign thing to him. Reaching up, I removed the flower crown and boldly placed it on his head.
"Cheer up." I gave him a smile, toothy and genuine. The nymphs called once more and reluctantly, with a heavy sigh, I leaned back and turned to retreat, quickly jumping across the rocks, back towards the sprites that had lost track of me. Looking over my shoulder, I gave him one last long glance, a smile of wanting on my lips, before I cleared the area. My last look was a bewildered God, a chain of daisies around his silver crown.
No, the lord of the underworld did not kidnap as I picked flowers as the stories go. It was the day learned his true name that I found myself in the land of the dead.