Dear Readers, thanks for stopping by. This is the second installment in my Hades and Persephone one-shots. If you wish to read the first, which provides a little background information on this couple, please visit my first one-shot titled The Goddess Who Died. All characters belong to mythology. I only own a little bit of this. Thank you for reading and I hope you review.
The Goddess Who Lived
A sudden chill awoke Persephone from her slumber. She pulled the silk sheets up closer to her chin and instinctively reached a hand out for her husband. Her small hand found nothing but cool air and a cold mattress. She opened her eyes and they saw nothing but darkness above the large bed. A small sigh escaped her lungs as she remembered that this was her final night in the Underworld. Spring was coming and she was not only needed above to bring about the new season, but her mother Demeter missed her as well. Persephone could not deny that she missed her mother in return, but her last night underground was always a cheerless one for her and her husband.
Persephone sat up in bed and looked about her. Usually she was met with nothing but darkness, but her green eyes alighted immediately upon her husband. She felt relieved; she wanted to spend every last moment with him. Hades was standing with his back to her, completely nude and his pale skin almost seemed to glow. The darkness had parted before him to reveal a stone veranda. He had his large hands pressed flat against the balustrade as he leaned to look out. The scene that stretched before him was a view of the world above. The landscape was still white with snow and the trees were still bare. Mount Olympus towered in the distance, its peak higher than the clouds. It was rare that he left his dark realm to visit Olympus or the earth, nor was he urged to do so. He was not a welcome visitor. He was unpitying, inexorable, but just; he was not an evil god. Hades only watched the events of the world through his "looking glass", as Persephone called it.
Persephone set her bare feet upon the cold floor, slightly disturbing the thin layer of mist there. She was naked too, but she felt no shame as she crossed over to where her husband was standing. Hades was not startled when her warm hands smoothed over his broad, muscular shoulders. She pressed her thumbs into the tight muscle on either side of his spine and trailed them down to his buttocks. She felt him relax a little, but not enough. Hades was dreading the moment when she would have to leave him. Persephone laid a kiss on the highest point of his back that she could reach on tip-toe, and she barely grazed his shoulder blade. She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head against him. Hades placed a hand on her arms, lightly caressing them.
"Soon this desolate place will lose the only light to ever purge the darkness that consumes it," Hades said softly. "Soon I will lose you, dear wife."
Persephone blinked back the tears that threatened to overtake her and listened to the sound of his low voice rumble in his chest. A marriage between a god and goddess was always full of complications; Persephone could only ask Hera about it. Hera, as Zeus's wife, knew only too well the trials of being the wife of one of the most powerful and oldest gods in existence. However, Hades was nothing like Zeus; he would never be unfaithful to her. At times, Persephone believed Hades to be even more powerful than Zeus, but Hades remained submissive to his brother.
"Tomorrow," Hades continued, "you will leave me to bring life to this wintry land and make it fresh and green and new. Every spring I long to go with you, to go where you go and do as you do…. But I can only watch as my goddess bathes in the warmth of the sun and dance among the blooms of spring. I must remain here in the damned hell I have been destined to rule."
Persephone swallowed the lump that had been rising in her throat. She reached for one of his hands. "Let us not think on that now, my love. Come to bed."
Hades allowed her to pull him away from the balcony and it slowly vanished into the darkness. The vast bed was still waiting for them, the silken sheets gone cold because of Persephone's absence. Hades raised one knee to climb onto the mattress and turned to lie on his back. Persephone stood next to the bed a moment, gazing upon her husband, the God of the Underworld. She stroked his muscular thigh which made her hand look so small in comparison. She climbed onto the bed and straddled his hips. When she leaned down to kiss him, Hades clung to her desperately, opening her mouth with his in one fluid motion and making the kiss long and deep. Within that single kiss, Persephone felt all his desperation and sorrow. Persephone was heartbroken.
"I am always yours, Hades," Persephone whispered against his lips with closed eyes. "No matter where I may tread, I am yours."
Persephone sat up, her long auburn waves cascading over her bare breasts. She gazed down at her husband as she stroked his powerful chest. Hades reached up to tenderly touch her face, his thumb running across her full lower lip before sweeping back into her hair to run his fingers through it. She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes. His hand slid down her neck and chest to cup one of her breasts, and then his other hand took the other. Her breasts filled his large hands easily and Persephone moaned when he began to knead them and caress them. She placed her hands over his and they locked eyes.
When they were both ready, Persephone lowered herself onto him. Their breaths hitched in their throats simultaneously. Slowly, she rose and fell, her hands flat on his chest to steady herself. Hades continued to caress her, his hands stroking her olive skin. However, he could only lay back and watch her for so long. Suddenly he sat up, holding her in his arms as she continued to move against him. He pressed his cold lips against her neck and breathed his love into her ear as she moaned in response. Hades' hands gripped her hips and helped her when they came closer and closer to completion. When Persephone's peak was upon her, Hades pressed her firmly against him with one hand, and then clutched her face with his other, forcing her to stare into his eyes as she cried out. Her climax shot through her body and she clung to him desperately. Persephone softly gasped for breath and trembled in his arms as Hades emptied his seed within her with a heavy groan. While they were both recovering, Persephone rested her forehead against his, closing her eyes in contentment.
After a moment, Hades spoke, his voice low and almost husky. "You are so beautiful, Persephone. Just now you lit up like the sun itself and warmth radiated from you like never before."
Persephone opened her eyes to find him looking at her. She gently touched his face and kissed him deeply. Then she said, "You do such things to me, Prince of Darkness, King of the Dead, my husband. I love you more than Cupid loves Psyche. More than Alpheus loves Arethusa."
"But each winter you die to be with me," Hades said, full of sorrow. "This horrid, damned hell is no place for a beautiful goddess like you."
Persephone raised her chin and said firmly, yet with love, "Yes, indeed I die. It is a sacrifice I gladly make to be your wife. The Olympians are "the deathless gods", "the happy gods". They are far removed from suffering mortals who are destined to die. You and I, we witness their grief every day, every year, every century. But in their hour of death, men turn for compassion to the goddess who sorrowed and the goddess who died. What mortals forget is that I also live. I rise again and again each spring to bring life back into the world. I am the goddess who lived."
Hades continued to stare at her with his arctic-blue eyes. He kissed her again and held her close.
At dawn Persephone would rise from the Underworld and spring would come. Where she walked, Hades could not follow. But she knew he would be watching from his balcony, waiting for his wife to return to him.