"Hades," Persephone says, quiet.
He looks up from his work. His hair is tied back, beard thick and wild. When he turns to face her, she can see how filthy his forging gloves are.
"I have to go," she says, and stops to take a deep breath. She remembers Athena's steady gaze, the delicacy Artemis' ribcage against all her muscle. Hestia, extending herself outwards. "I have to go," she repeats, and takes a step forward.
Hades tells her, "I know." His eyes are gentle. "I'll see when the war is over, won't I?"
"Of course," she says, reverent, and soft, and steady. "I'm looking forward to our spring wedding."
"I hope you wear the black dress," he smiles. He doesn't move forward, and Persephone won't go further. This is his space. The scent of metal and smoke are cloying and thick.
Instead, she bites her tongue, nods at him, and leaves.
Hades watches her go, until the darkness of the Underworld has swallowed her up, and turns back to his work.
Persephone wakes up, the scent of smoke and steel still in her nose, and her heart caught in her throat.
She's alone in her room. The left side of the bed is cold.
"Honey?" Demeter calls, and Persephone can't say anything back. "Kore?"
Persephone says, "I'm here," in a hoarse, raspy voice. She waves her hand, magnifying her voice to repeat it when she hears footsteps getting louder. "I'm here. I'll be down in a second."
"Are you okay? You sound rather ill."
"I'm fine," Persephone assures her, as always, and stays in bed, staring at the wall, until she hears her mom descend the stairs.
She eats breakfast with her mom, goes to work, trains with Athena. Persephone gets her ass handed to her almost every time, but she's getting better. Athena circles her, pointing out flaws, as she trains on a dummy. Then, they talk fighting styles, tactics to try tomorrow, and stretch out.
"Do you mind stopping by the twins' shop with me?" Athena asks, shouldering her bag. She twists her hair into an effortless bun at the nape of her neck.
Persephone smooths out her maxi-dress - black floral, sleeveless - and agrees. She feels jittery, and doesn't want to go home yet. She suspects Athena sensed her nerves.
They Appear at the twins' shop, and, for once, there are no customers crowding in the room.
The smell of earth is still so pungent. Persephone breathes in deep - it's an old earth smell, rock and dirt and grass that have grown over centuries, and she has no idea how they managed to bring it into the shop. Maybe it's because Artemis smells overwhelmingly like old earth some days.
"My favourite ladies!" Apollo cheers, emerging from the back. Persephone smiles at him. "What can I do for you today?"
"Just dropping in to say hi," Persephone says. She runs a finger over the leaf of a hanging plant, and watches it turn a little greener, grow a little more. Winter jasmine. She doesn't exactly know all the things it's used for, but she knows a few: sleep, mild beauty enhancement, better dreams.
In the background, she can hear Athena talking to Apollo about something. Instead of focussing on them, she wanders around the shop.
It's all wood - lighter on the walls, darker on the counters and floor. There are plants hanging from the ceiling and arranged on the floor, potions and books lining shelves, white sunlight spilling in from big windows. There's even a model of the solar system, floating in a corner behind the counter.
Every time she comes here, something new is in the shop. This time, there are new dainty ceramic bowls, tagged for 10 Drachmas each. She picks one up. It reminds her of Hades' dishes - pretty, pristine, aesthetic dishware that he had specially made.
"Persephone," Apollo calls, and she snaps out of it.
"Yeah?" she replies, turning.
He's got his elbows on the mahogany counter, leaning over enough that his necklace swings out behind his shirt collar. It reminds her of Hades' necklace - gold, onyx pendant, long enough to tuck under his shirts - that he put on every morning, took off every time.
Gods, she's in a mood today.
Apollo tells her, "Artemis is going out on a walk tonight, she invited you to come."
"I'm in," Persephone says, immediately. She doesn't even have to think about it. She loves walks with Artemis. "Who else is coming?"
"I'm not," Athena says, looking vaguely apologetic. "I've got work."
"Neither am I," Apollo admitted, then smiled, sharp. "I have a hot date. Hermes has work too, though, so he can't make it."
"Try not to get your heart broken on your date," Athena says, dry.
Persephone says, "Maybe he'll fall in love," and Apollo makes a face at them.
"Get out of here," he says, rolling his eyes. He's smiling, though, something warm and brotherly and indulgent. "I've got work to do. Potions to brew. Sisters to talk to."
"Have fun," Persephone tells him, sincere. His eyes are kind when he looks at her, and she holds his gaze, steady, for another second.
Athena splays a hand over her lower back. "Let's go," she says softly, but firmly. Her fingers are cold.
Hades' hands were always warm.
Persephone goes straight from tending her garden to delving into the forest to find Artemis.
"Stay by your garden," Artemis told her, back when she thought Persephone would actually listen. "I'll come find you."
Persephone had gone out by herself back then, too, and gotten lost. Artemis had tracked her down in less than five minutes, frowned at her, and dragged her deeper into the woods.
She kept going out, feeling out the forest, and Artemis kept finding her.
That's why Persephone isn't surprised to be sitting on the floor of the forest, coaxing some wild mint to grow more, when Artemis appears in front of her.
"Hi," Persephone says, smiling up at her, and rises to her feet.
Artemis doesn't have her quiver of arrows or bow with her, but Persephone knows she can just Summon though if she needs them. Or just wants them. "Hi," she replies, and her smile is warm and fond. "How are you?"
"I'm," Persephone begins, then stops. She can lie all she wants to Athena, but the way Athena looks at her, with knowing and understanding eyes, makes her efforts fruitless. Her mom eats up her lies, looks pleased and happy by them. Apollo and Hermes pretend to not to know the truth. But Artemis, Artemis has always been the easiest to be honest to. "I'm not bad."
"Well," she says, turning on her heel. "Tell me about it, then. A free counseling session, just for you." Her tone is light, and easy. Sarcastic. Persephone laughs, and follows her.
"I miss him," she admits, when they're deep into the woods.
Artemis tilts her face up to the sky, and exhales silently. "He misses you too, you know."
Persephone watches her. She looks a lot like Hades in the dim light, with the thick black curls and the cut of her cheekbones, but she blends into the night where Hades would glow.
"Tell me about him?" she asks, widening her eyes just a little. Artemis sighs.
"You and Hermes," she murmurs, "I swear."
"Please," Persephone adds, and knows she's got her.
Artemis keeps walking, but she also talks. "He's not nearly eating or sleeping enough, but. Everyone's trying to get him to take care of himself. Chiron lectures him daily for an hour. Hecate dragged him out of his forge the other day. Nyx blacked out his entire palace when he wouldn't sleep. They took Cerberus away for a little while."
"An unusual and cruel punishment," Persephone observes.
"He was prioritizing literally everybody and everything over himself," Artemis tells her. "What a martyr." She snorts, eyes focussed straight in front of her, and Persephone pretends like her heart doesn't feel like it's being choked.
They walk for a long time, long enough that the sky is mostly dark. Artemis runs out of things to tell her, and Persephone runs out of questions to ask, and they just walk.
"How's Hermes?" Persephone asks suddenly, remembering that Hermes was away for the past few days, off fighting a giant in Crete. It's why he has so much work to catch up on tonight. Iris fills in when he's away, but with the war, it's a struggle to be as efficient as Hermes is.
Artemis lifts a shoulder. "Relatively fine," she sighs. "Only let us have a few good looks at him. Apollo had to pin him down to heal him."
Persephone lets the silence stretch for a moment, before tangling hands with Artemis. Her hands are rough, calloused, but slim. "This war," she begins, then stops, unsure on how to continue.
Artemis fills in the rest. "This war is terrible," she says. She pulls Persephone to a stop, drops her head back to stare at the stars burning in the sky.
Persephone looks up, too, and they stand there for a long time.
Sometimes, the war feels very far away. When the giants aren't attacking, and harpies aren't rebeling, and everybody is just tending to their duties, everything seems so peaceful. Persephone sits in her garden, growing herbs and flowers and ivy, and just breathes. Around her, everything blossoms.
Later, the nymphs will come and chat with her for a bit. Her mother will come fetch her for dinner, and she might go see Apollo and Athena, maybe Hestia.
It all seems very far away. The sun is bright and golden, the sky cloudless and perfectly blue.
Persephone remembers the smoothness of Hades' skin, how brilliant his smile is, the twinkle in his eyes when he was amused. She remembers the round sound of his laugh, and the deep bass of his voice. The sharpness of his cheekbones and the curl of his hair and the cut of his jaw and.
He liked to be close to her, pressing in beside her, a wall of solid warmth. She used to be able to just extend an arm, touching his shoulder or elbow or ribcage.
Roses, as red as fresh blood, open up beneath Persephone's fingers.
There isn't anyone for miles around her.
"You seem in need of a drink," Dionysus tells her, from his throne in the Counsel Room.
Persephone looks up from arranging her armour bag. "I'm good, thank you."
They're alone in the Counsel Room. Something in Persephone feels stiff, even though her muscles are loose and warm. Dionysus, a good quarter drunk already, raises his goblet in the air.
"Persephone," he drawls, "you gotta let loose sometimes. Just for a little. Just a little bit." His eyes sharpen, suddenly, so sober and clear that Persephone fights not to show surprise.
She says, "Well. That sounds like your opinion." She carefully doesn't look over at him. "Sorry," she says, a moment of silence later. She's not sorry. "That was a bit rude."
"No, no, that's what he deserves," a new voice calls out, cheerful. Persephone turns around, and smiles at Hermes, who winks back at her. "Dionysus, stop pressuring innocent young women."
"I'm asking her if she wants some of the finest wine in Olympus," he sniffs, but he makes a silly face at Hermes. He makes one back.
Persephone smiles, a little looser, but she still feels kind of tired. She wants to go home, to her husband, the palace and her big bed with the fireplace crackling in front of her.
Hermes says, "I'm actually here for Persephone." He tilts his chin at her, and she grabs her bags in response. "Apollo'll be by soon, he'll have some wine with you and you can bitch over how brilliantly single you are."
Dionysus half-smiles, raising an eyebrow and taking another gulp of wine. "I'll toast to that. Bye, Persephone."
"Bye, Dionysus." She waves quickly before following Hermes out of the door. "Where are we going? Has Lord Zeus summoned me?"
"No," Hermes says, and doesn't say anything else. Persephone grits her teeth and walks beside him. Maybe before, she'd have walked behind him, would have just shrugged off him being oddly ominous. Now, she gets a little angrier, and if he doesn't stop soon, she is.
But he stops when they reach the gardens. There's no one else there but them. "Why are we here?" she asks, brows furrowing.
Hermes shrugs. "You looked uncomfortable. I thought I'd get you out of there."
Persephone softens. "Thank you," she says, gentle, and smiles when Hermes looks away. He's never been good with taking gratitude or compliments.
They stand there for a little while, looking out at the sprawling gardens. Nymphs take care of them. There are bushes of roses, trees with apples, oranges and olives, and clusters of chrysanthemums. It's all very bright and cheerful. Picture perfect against the crisp blue sky and sunshine.
"Come on," murmurs Persephone, "let's sit." Hermes drops heavily on to the nearby bench, bracing his elbows on his knees. Persephone sets her bags on the ground, sits down beside him. She leans back and closes her eyes for a second, letting the sun warm her face.
There's no sun in the Underworld, she remembers. Though there is fire, light and warmth. The glow of Elysium against the paleness of the Asphodel Fields.
She opens her eyes in time to see Artemis step into the gardens, and catches the look of surprise that flits across her face when they make eye contact. She was expecting to see only Hermes, Persephone realizes, not the both of them. She doesn't look displeased, though.
"Arrow Head," Hermes says, smiling widely, and goes over to her. He and Artemis tilt their heads close to each other, saying something too quiet for Persephone to hear, before they hug. "Missed you," he says, loud enough for Persephone to catch it.
Artemis says, "I missed you too, even though you're fucking stupid," and Persephone smiles. She sounds mostly fond, only a little sassy.
She releases Hermes, walks up to Persephone as she rises from the bench.
"Hi," Persephone says, soft. Artemis tilts her head, eyes searching her face.
"How are you?"
"...Tired," she admits, accepting a hug and leaning her head against Artemis' shoulder. "I don't want to be here."
Artemis snorts, "Nobody does." Dionysus had spent the last ten minutes before Persephone left complaining about a party some dryads were throwing. Her mom was busy with her duties, which were many with summer crops. Athena had to be pulled away from battle planning, and had frowned aggressively at the letter she'd received before lighting it on fire.
Persephone doesn't say anything else, just lets herself rest against Artemis, and closes her eyes.
Faintly, she can hear Hermes and Artemis talking in low voices about the war, and the other deities. She almost feels like a kid again, wrapped up in her mom's warm embrace while she talked to Poseidon or Hera about something official and important.
"Hey," Artemis says, an indefinite time later, voice low, "it's time to go inside."
"Okay," Persephone says, pulling herself away. Hermes is already carrying one of her bags for her, her armour bag. Persephone grabs the other one with all her clothes. "Let's go then."
They walk in silence to the Counsel Room, where Persephone takes a seat beside her mother's throne, and Artemis and Hermes climb on to their own. Aphrodite is already there, and she smiles at Persephone, blows Hermes a kiss, and avoids purses her lips at Artemis. Athena is reading a scroll, legs crossed. Apollo has a goblet of wine in front of him, but his eyes are clear. Ares and Hephaestus lope in just after she sits down, and take their respective thrones.
Persephone sits, and waits. She deity-watches idly. Her mom walks in, looking tired, in a bright green chiton. Hestia and Hera, side by side. Poseidon, clean shaven, smelling strongly of sea-salt. The lesser known deities, like Khione and Pan, who fill up chairs and benches set up for them.
Zeus is, ironically, the last to arrive. "Brothers, sisters, nephews, nieces. Deities of all ages," he begins, and Persephone sees Poseidon roll his eyes. "Let's welcome our guests from the Underworld."
He steps out of the way, allowing Hades to appear in the doorway, draped in a black cloak. He's followed by Nyx and Hecate, both also in black. They look regal and dark against the bright white on the Counsel Room.
Persephone's heart is pounding in her chest.
"Hello," Hades intones, quiet and steady, and all the minor deities bow their heads immediately. He looks across the room, and his eyes meet hers. Across the room, she can't make out the exact shade of his eyes. But she can see how much thinner his face is, how gaunt he looks, how fucking handsome he still is.
She doesn't know when she gets out of her seat, but she just knows she has to get to him, has to touch him and be near him. She's across the room before she even realizes what she's doing.
"Hello," Hades says, again, but only to her. His voice is deep, soft, and his chest rumbles under her cheek. "Darling, I've missed you." His arms are strong around her. She can feel how thin he's gotten, but his heartbeat is as strong and steady as ever.
Persephone takes in a deep breath, and exhales slowly. "I've missed you too," she says. She feels, rather than hears, Hades take in a deep, shaky breath. He's always been the crier. "Gods, I've missed you."
Someone clears their throat, and Hades pulls away. Persephone lets him, a little reluctantly, tangling their hands together so they don't lose contact.
Zeus looks at them, amusement colouring his face. "Sorry to interrupt," he smirks, "but we've got a meeting to get to."
"Then why are you late?" Hermes calls, and there's a ripple of agreement in the room. Zeus clears his throat again, eyes narrowing, and everything falls quiet.
"We've got a meeting," he repeats, huffily, and goes to take his place at the head of the table of Olympians. Persephone disregards her seat next to her mother.
Queen of the Underworld, she thinks, wife of Hades, goddess of spring. She feels the change in her, the sort of shift in her attitude. The way she was attending this before was as a minor deity, daughter of Demeter, with little standing. Now, it's different.
Hades draws himself up, proud and tall, next to her, and squeezes her hand.
a/n: this story is dedicated to nadia. sorry that it's pretty trash but happy birthday!