A.N: Just note that this is still about the pairing of Apollo/Persephone. And unrequited Hades/Persephone I might add. Just a warning so there's no confusion for this chapter. I'll shut up now..


"Mother? You called?" Persephone asks hesitantly as she enters the halls, filling the empty vases with rich, vibrant stalks of multicolored flowers, bringing the house to life. Demeter enters from the living room, standing majestically tall as ever, a flowing cerulean gown clinging to her body, which age did not seem to deter. Persephone went still, feeling incredibly small in the presence of her mother. The woman's face broke into a relieved smile, swooping up her daughter in an embrace, who went rigid before slightly relaxing. It wasn't even the forced smile. Or the outlandish affection.

Since her return from the Underworld, Persephone had been drifting away from her mother and her displaced affections. For not the first time, the fated maiden would wonder about the what ifs. About what Artemis would tell her. And little by little, Persephone would find the will to fight back. Of course, she would defend her mother to save face; If word got out that she was brash, sullen enough to speak ill of her mother, the formidable harvest deity who did not hesitate in delaying the growth and flourish on an entire planet, just to find her. As Demeter released her from the fervent embrace, the brunette's lips curved into a small smile as she bend to rest the basket at the foot of a table.

"Mother, I was only with Artemis. Nothing could have harmed me when with her. Besides we didn't wander off, just like you said," Persephone placated her, a convincing smile adorning her youthful features.

Her mother sighed, melancholy amber hues looking over the fairly short goddess, "I know, dear. But ever since that wretched Hades took you, I- " Demeter faltered in speech, her emotions on the brink. But her daughter went rigid once more, lips pressed together forming a slim line. Any mention of that dreary place void of life would drive her into this state, especially by her mother.

"Mother," her tone was quiet, barely heard above the woman's sniffling, "What's done is done. We cannot reverse what happened- in any case, this was consented by Zeus, after all."

"How did you know that?" Demeter demands sharply, her amber eyes flashing as the fierce deity of harvest reached out and gripped her daughter by the shoulders. "Was it Artemis? That girl needs to keep her nose out of- "

"Mother, I overheard your argument with him when we visited Olympus." Persephone interrupted coolly, unfazed by her mother's roughened hold, her shoulders stiff.

For a moment, Demeter relaxed and relinquished her hold, only to be fired up once more. "Persephone, I ordered you to stay in the company of Apollo at the time!"

Her voice raised, echoing across the hallways. The household nymphs were in the midst of shying away from the scene, unwilling to be caught in the crossfire of the formidable vegetation goddess and her suspiciously rebellious daughter, who was as gentle as a dove before her abduction. Even as the nymphs scurried off to the farther wings of the house, the heated row between mother and daughter carried on.

Well, for Demeter, that is. Persephone was as nonchalant as ever, even as she tossed her brunette locks to the side, replying snippishly to her mother, "... wouldn't be allowed to breathe the same air as me as long as you're concerned. Did you really think he would listen to you? You're only just my mother. Who else's idea to eavesdrop would it be in the first place?"

Demeter opened her mouth for another heated retort but was cut off yet again by a riled spring goddess. "At least we won't have any worries of Apollo kidnapping me to Olympus," she finished with the last inkling of rage draining away, replaced by lower lip was caught between her teeth as a final act of composure, head bent as she brushed past the stunned goddess of harvest.

"Goodnight, mother," she murmurs as she left, even though the night was now at it's dawning. Demeter did not reply, nor did she turn to steal a last glance at her daughter. Though the slam of a door farther down the corridor spoke for itself. The forlorn mother shakily collapsed into a nearby chair, head in her hands. What was she to do about Persephone? Reasoning convinced her that Apollo was the cause of it, casting away any inklings of regret in the case of not offering her blessings for the young god to be wed to her daughter, as he was quite taken with her.

But her gentle subconscious chimed in as well. Time in the dreadful Underworld, desolate of life had changed her sweet Persephone. That securing her all this time had ultimately been her undoing. That maybe her daughter would have been happier had she not kept her on such a tight leash. Her reasoning once again dispelled such thoughts, leaving a broken mother more confused than ever.


However, Persephone seemed quite content in her new room, sifting through a series of letters from both Artemis and Apollo sent over the past few months. They more or less followed the same patterns; Artemis's mostly about her daily activities and news from Mount Olympus. Sometimes Apollo would send similar letters, but his would contain a poem that was enough to send her in extreme fits of blushing. Sometimes Persephone believed he would write them for that exact reaction, but she knew better than that. Apollo was sweet to her, even before her abduction. She enjoyed writing to him, and being in his company.

As her fingers brushed against the worn parchment, Persephone warily glanced outside her open window. The sunset created a beautiful scenery of the lingering red tinge of the skies. Dusk was approaching. As she stood warily to close the window, a blur of black darted through her window so fast it was a wonder the spring goddess escaped unscathed.

She sighed in relief. It was only messenger bird, with a note attached to it's left foot. Approaching it perched onto her nightstand, the ebony bird cawed and attempted scratching her. That was quite strange.

Persephone frowned. "What is wrong?"

The crow simply continued cawing, shaking the letter off it's foot and in another flash was gone soaring out the window, leaving the young goddess alone and confused of the creature's erratic behavior. Animals had never tried to harm her in her life, as she was the spring goddess. However, the letter was what now held Persephone's attention. Who was it from? Many gods and goddess had written their letters since her abduction out of mere courtesy, and the twins Artemis and Apollo would always send theirs by the lovely doves. Surely it wasn't them.

She unrolled the scroll cautiously, lest the paper not rip. The dark, scrawling handwriting was familiar to her, but the goddess was unsure of where. Without even skimming through the letter, her emerald gaze landed upon the signature, almost unrecognizable. Her heart dropped, a feeling of dread leaving her standing stock still, her usually-bright features paling.

It was from Hades.