Let it Burn
Chapter Two: Careful What You Wish For
Persephone was bored.
Not that being bored was a new feeling for her; far from it. Between milling aimlessly about Olympus and half-heartedly helping her mother in her duties as Harvest Goddess for about the zillionth time, Persephone often felt like she lived her life in a state of perpetual boredom. And anytime something even remotely interesting threatened to happen anywhere near her vicinity, her over-protective, overbearing mother would "tuck her away somewhere safe" (often among some dull mortals) until the fun was all over. Like the recent takeover attempt on Olympus, for example. Even now, months later, she wondered what it would have been like, to have been on Olympus when it happened, to see the magnificent, terrifying Titans unleashed, to see the shock and anger on Zeus' face as Hades rode on his dread chariot … even now, the idea made her shiver with a combination of fear and excitement.
She'd heard Hades had been cast into the river of souls by Zeus' son Hercules, and that, if and when he emerged, Zeus had declared, in his infinite wisdom, that his brother's "little swim" would be the extent of his punishment. Well, that and eternal exile from Olympus – unless Zeus changed his mind about the eternity part, and most doubted he would. She wondered if the permanent banishment would bother the Lord of the Underworld when he heard of it. She herself felt the same way about Olympus as she often felt about her mother – the place was confining, dull, and mind-numbingly familiar, but at the same time, a part of her loved it, a part of her belonged to it, just as she belonged to the Spring, the flowers, the trees, the very essence of nature that was her mother's domain. Still, there was another part of her that felt … out of place. Something whispered in her, in the darkest corners of her mind, that she didn't belong here, that she would never belong here, that some other place was calling her home.
Usually she told herself that those feelings had to do with not really having an official job, like the rest of the fully grown deities. Sure, being mommy's little helper had been fine when she was a mere godling, but no matter how much her mother liked to pretend otherwise, she was all grown up now. She needed to find her own way, and get out from under her mother's (green) thumb. Her lack of station was starting to get embarrassing. She knew the other gods were gossiping about her, and even Zeus had once or twice "politely" suggested to her mother that "maybe it's time for your girl to get some direction in life," although of course he couldn't be bothered to offer a specific suggestion. Too busy throwing around lighting bolts or something, Persephone supposed.
But he was still right. She needed a direction, more desperately than he or anyone else could possibly know. And after all this time, it still shamed Persephone to think that even if she put to use what meager skills she possessed, she would still only be duplicating her mother's job.
Well, at least shame was a different feeling than boredom.
And so here she was again, aimless, unimportant, in the meadows near Enna. She loved this place. She hated this place. Like everything else, it was … familiar.
Persephone knelt down and plucked a flower. It was beautiful. She'd seen it before. She inhaled its scent. It was pleasant. She smelled it before. Persephone sighed, and closed her eyes, and wished that once, just once, something, anything unexpected would happen to her.
"You sure that's her?"
Hades' eyes were fixed, somewhat disbelievingly, on the young woman in the meadow. Her skin was white as bone; that much he knew for certain. Her hair and eye color he could not tell, because they seemed to change with each shade and shadow and flash of the sun. It was really quite … unsettling. He was also pretty sure that she was not Aphrodite's favorite person, because, although the Goddess of Love was loathe to admit it, she got pretty steamed when any female, mortal or otherwise, even had a chance of claiming to rival her in the looks department.
And Hades had to admit, after setting his sights on her, that the daughter of Demeter could definitely give Aphrodite a run for her money.
"I'm sure boss, it's her." Panic sounded nervous, but then, he always sounded nervous. "I checked."
"And I double-checked!" Pain added, never one to let Panic take all the credit.
"You did not!" Panic snapped. "Stop stealing my thunder."
"Stealing your thunder? Who do you think you are, Zeus?"
"That – that doesn't even make sense!"
"Yes it does!" Pain tapped his head. "Think about it," he added huffily.
Hades paid his bickering minions no heed. He supposed he shouldn't have, but somehow, he thought Demeter's daughter would still be a child. He hadn't quite expected … this.
But hey, it didn't really matter how old she was anyway, did it? Staring at her from afar wasn't getting the job done. Time for his imps to do their work.
"Pain, Panic," he began, talking over his still bickering underlings, "Boys, I really don't care who checked or double-checked, I need you two to – enough of this now – come on – I SAID QUIT IT!" Hades flared up, zapping both them into silence. He rolled his eyes.
"Oy, minions."
"We're sorry!"
"Really sorry!"
Hades sighed. "Oh forget it. If you want something done right …" Hades didn't usually like to get his hands dirty, but considering how Pain and Panic had bungled the "turn Hercules mortal" scheme so badly, maybe it was best he handled this matter personally.
Hades emerged from beneath the earth just as Persephone knelt, flower in hand, eyes closed, making her silent wish. She barely had time for her eyes to snap open in terror before he grabbed her and they plunged back into the Underworld. She certainly did not have time to scream, much less put up any kind of a fight.
And somewhere, seeing it all, knowing it all, the three Fates smiled. "Well, no one can say we don't have a sense of irony."
