A/N After writing the set of drabbles of Loki & Sif for the movie Thor, I thought I should give one of my other favourite pairings a try, namely Hades & Persephone. This is what I've come up so far. Hopefully I will be adding more soon... if the muse cooperates.
"Enough" she whispered through uneven breaths, beads of perspiration running like rivulets down her body. She took a deep breath and calmly raised her eyes from the ground to meet his. "Enough Hades." The swirling mass of shadows that had engulfed them merely seconds ago, suddenly dispersed and they were left standing in the dimly lit throne room once more. Her emerald eyes were shining as she spoke in frustration. "I tire of your games"
"Then leave if you dislike it here. You know as well as I do that since you are neither dead nor dying, I have no right to keep you here. And since you are a deity yourself, I have even less power over you, goddess." His tone was not angry. Instead he almost sounded remorseful and Persephone almost believed him. But that satisfied smirk was clearly visible and his dark eyes were burning again today. He was mocking her, goading her.
"And you know as well as I do my lord, that there is no escape from Hell other than through its master."
"So it's best to befriend the jail-keeper is it not, my dear Persephone" he practically purred as the shadows swallowed him again.
Death is frightening; Death is cruel; Death is unyielding… Death is an inescapable promise.
However standing in the shadows, finally experiencing the judging of souls, Persephone came to other realisations as well.
Death was not frightening; he was imposing. Seated upon his black throne, his tall frame towered over everyone. Black hair, black eyes, and black robes – and yet he was not lost in the shadows. The shadows were a part of him.
Death was not cruel, he was simply just. A life for a life and a soul for a soul.
Death was unyielding, true, but then mortals were not meant to be immortal. And spring was not destined to be eternal.
Death was an inescapable promise, but also a promise to something better than life for some. Death was four pomegranate seeds in the palm of her hand.
Death was her captor, and she was captivated by Death.
Her short dress was gone along with the girl-child who wore it.
In her place there stood a tall, radiant young woman wearing a long midnight gown made of the finest silk.
Her eyes sparkled, along with the emeralds around her throat. Her once golden tresses had darkened to a rich brown.
Demeter knew that her beautiful care-free Kora was gone, and in her place was someone she hardly knew.
A woman of terrible beauty and power.
And she watched as the queen of the underworld, Persephone, strode into the hall and took her place beside Hades on their throne.
