You were all just waiting for this chapter, weren't you? This is the pinnacle of your interest! I have bored you to death to this point! (I kid, I kid)
THUS! Here it is at last, my loves. Enjoy to your hearts content.
Chapter Eight
The Marriage and Rape of Persephone
Persephone
The sun had just finished rising once more. It let its gentle beam spread throughout the valley, and Persephone sighed. The girl sat, once more, beneath the pomegranate tree, idly tossing one of the fruits from her left to right hand, with no intention at all of eating it. She wasn't even terribly sure if coming here would be worth the effort. Hades had not told her he would meet her again. She was just… hoping. And so, in a little white dress, at the crack of dawn, Persephone had scurried from her home once more to the grove outside of Demeter's valley. It was silly... but she wanted to talk of what happened the day before. To find out motives… and to forgive, forget, move on, really. Persephone didn't want to stay mad at anyone. And perhaps it really had been a terrible misunderstanding on her part: something that Hades would clear up if he came at all.
The little Goddess sniffled. What if he didn't come? What if he never wanted to see her again? Her shoulders hunched together, but Persephone forced herself to stay positive. It would be fine – their new friendship would be alright. And when Mama came home, the three of them would get along terribly well, and perhaps, he would start visiting as frequently as Athena!
Finally cracking open the fruit, Persephone ate a single seed, before setting it down, allowing the soil to consume it for its nutrients. She wasn't very hungry. She hadn't eaten last night either (it was strange, as normally, she ate for three of her petite size). Just lay in bed, trying to think of what she could say, of what she wanted to talk about, of boundaries she wanted to set… if it was alright by him, of course! Because it hurt her heart to think that they could no longer enjoy one's company. And she was certain it had just been a spur of the moment thing – that Hades knew and respected her position as maiden of the harvest. Besides, she thought a bit bitterly, why should he wish after her anyway? There was nothing important to want!
Licking her lips on any juices, the red-head rubbed those blues one more time, huddling her knees to her chest, patting the ground with a flat palm as if it would call him any faster.
Hades
The ground gave a shudder, the earth shaking at its base as it responded to the touch of the lord of the dead. It shifted and cracked, erupting upwards in a dark, gaping hole that lead to the darkness below. Beneath came the dark chariot of the god of the underworld, the four dread steads tossing their manes and red eyes rolling restlessly as their hooves pounded soundlessly upon the ground. But unlike before, the ground did not settle once more, swallowed into the darkness to hide the passage of this god. It loomed, a black entrance to the realm of the dead that he created as his own... rather than the entrance by which the souls entered the underworld.
Thus, Hades dismounted, his black robes swirling about him and agitated only slightly by the warm winds. The heavy fabric was rich and hung over his tall frame. Unlike before, these robes were far more formal far more regal and befitting the god-king. They were still black, as dark as ink and contrasting highly with the pale flesh of the one who wore them. They were woven with silvery threads in light embroidery around the hems for decoration. As the heavy folds wrapped around his frame, it hung over his left shoulder and beneath the right to expose the flesh and hide the other beneath it except for his pale hand. At his shoulder it was clasped by a silvery brooch shaped into the form of a majestic eagle with spread wings, seemingly clutching the fabric in its talons. His hair was bound as it usually was but with silver fabric this time: loosely and hanging over his right shoulder. But unlike before at his brow rested a silver circlet, simple, unadorned, but still a symbol of status. His black eyes glittered beneath his brow, grim, dark, and even cold. His lip were pulled into a hard line, strong jaw tense. He bore himself with all the authority now of a king that before he had no reason to possess. But he was still the lord of the dead and for the reason he came, he had full reason to dress as he was.
His sandled feet moved through the lush grasses, the stalks beginning to droop under his footsteps. His expression was still unreadable as he approached the girl who sat beneath the pomegranate tree though her face one that was... despondent. He pulled to a stop, his right arm limp at his side with the other pulling up to rest crossed at his stomach. He didn't crouch down but instead stood at the side of the tree, blocking the warm sun from her face and casting her into shadow. He couldn't even feel the sun that beat down on his back, kissing his nape with a tender caress though it also burned. His black eyes brushed over her. He could not allow himself to accept her forgiveness nor to comfort and ease away such a troubled expression from a face once so sunny. Not when he would destroy her world.
Persephone
Persephone once more did not notice Hades arrival immediately, still gazing at the plant she had just disintegrated into soil. She was chewing on her lower lip, that habit having become more predominant over the last few days. Only when she noticed that the sun was not shining as tenderly as it had before on her, did the little Goddess gaze upward, a bit taken aback at the figure standing before her, though only a few moments ago, she had been wishing it would be him. She blinked at seeing Hades. "You… you c-came!" Her rosebud mouth parted in a gasp. The God had actually come back to see her – for why else would he be here, at their tree. Strange how only a few days ago, it had been merely a tree. It belonged to them now, though, in Persephone's mind. A sense of relief flushed over her at gazing upon his face. He wanted to mend things as well! Though this short-lived alleviation of stress, almost as soon as it had come, was immediately drowned out by more worry, more dread. This was shown in the furrowing of her thin brows and flushed face. They were in a position, Persephone remembered, that was straight upon the edge of friendship. She was afraid any wrong word, any seemingly perceived insult, would have sent Hades reeling back towards his horses … which were very close to where she sat, strangely. Persephone didn't think she had seen his horses before. They were like him – dark and powerful - the girl thought idly, never able to keep her mind upon one subject for too long of a period (especially a serious subject).
Shaking her head, Persephone snapped from her thoughts, trying with all her might to focus on the situation she was currently in. She quickly stood, dusting the dirt from her dress, flushing. "I… I was so worried you wouldn't, my Lord… and… and I came early… and… and… I waited here… because… well, I know we didn't say we would meet!" She was twisting at the fabric on her dress between two wriggly hands. "But… but I was hoping…and now we can talk…and I am… I am so glad! But..." Persephone paused from her ramblings, actually giving way to look up towards Hades. "What… are you angry?" She asked at his expression, her own face falling, eyes widening. It was scarier though! He seemed… neutral. Was he neutral to her? Did he no longer like her? "Are you mad at me?" She was panicked from what had happened last night about where they stood. It frightened her terribly!
"I… I'm so horribly embarrassed of my actions yesterday!" Persephone swallowed, suddenly forgetting the speech she had practiced over and over in her hand mirror. "You seemed… I… I was… I assumed… I was scared… I feel…" Persephone swallowed. "I… I only think we should stop those lessons." She finally managed to blurt out what she had been trying to say, heaving in air that she had forgotten to take. "I… I know… they were for learning p-purposes," Persephone sucked both lips in her mouth, fidgeting harder with her dress. "I … though… I-I mean… I won't need them… because of my… position… as a maiden… and t-therefore…" The child felt so terrible, so anxious to please, that she was willing to completely forget yesterday and pass it off as a lesson, instead of what she had rightfully assumed the God had been doing. Her original plan had been to talk of it, but seeing that unreadable face of her new playmate, Persephone never wanted him to feel guilty. It wasn't right, in her mind, for him to suffer. "I was… Perhaps, we could spend our time… maybe, you teaching me… other things?" She managed to look up towards Hades, abashed. Her lips tried to spread into a smile, but they couldn't, and she reached for one of his idle, large hands, clasping it in both of hers.
"Oh but please do not hate me!" Pressing the hand to her cheek, Persephone forced it to cup her skin, closing her eyes tightly. "I like you so, so much!" Her speech had cleared in her exuberance to please. "And tomorrow… tomorrow my mother will be home… and so, you must stay friends with me, yes? For then we can all talk together! Oh, Lord Hades, forgive me if I had offended you!"
Persephone was such a lonely child. And she had been naturally inclined towards Hades – pulled towards him for reasons she did not understand. She was overly-willing to move past yesterday, and prayed he would. The only thing that remained constant though, throughout the entirety of her pleases, was that she would not go back to those lessons. Being Kore, being a virgin, being pure, was forever engraved in her mind. It was the only thing she was asking him not to force her to participate in.
"Speak to me?" The girl's voice had lowered from her cries, to just a quiet whisper.
Hades
Hades did not move, watching her carefully. This sweet little child, broken and confused, wanting to heal what wounds had been made. He wanted to embrace her, take her into his arms and sooth her unshed tears. But, he knew he could not do that. He had to be cruel, there was little else he could do. Rather, she gave her request, begging him to stop those lessons. He knew exactly what she was talking about. First it fascinated her, then it terrified her. She was frightened of it, but it didn't seem she was terrified of him. Not much, at least. But, soon she would. She would hate him, be afraid of him - because of what he was going to do. She requested it to end, but he was going to do the exact opposite.
Thus, when she took his hand and cupped it to her cheek, his eyes slid down to lock with hers. Her last plead, for him to speak to her. His face grew grim and he bent down so his mouth was above hers. "I am afraid," he breathed, "that I cannot do that." His hand that she held twisted and grabbed her wrist. Moving swiftly, he jerked her arm back and around to lift her and toss her easily over his shoulder. The grass around his feet was completely dead, wilted and brown. He said nothing now, not as he held her firmly to him arm wrapped around her firmly. Instead, he strode forward towards his chariot and mounted. The reins where in his hand and the steeds tossed their manes and pawed at the ground. Their flanks were as black as night, not even the light of the sun able to glisten on them... as if they consumed the very light around them rather than reflecting it. The reins he snapped, driving them forward. Perhaps he was holding her too tightly, nail pressing against the sensitive flesh of her wrist and clutching tightly so her slender wrists could fit in his clutch and also not be able to escape. He should be more gentle, but it was too late for that. Rather, the darkness exploded around them, consuming them as the chill of the underworld caused her scantily clad body to shiver. She could not be used to such chill that sank into her bones.
The great three-headed dog Cerberus towered over them, glowing red eyes following their passage. Hot, heavy breath. But, it allowed them to pass. Its duty was to not keep people out... but to keep them in. Thus, Hades pulled his chariot to a stop, dismounting and dropping her to her feet. His hand however remained at her wrist to drag her after him. He was in a hurry, his stride longer than hers. He led her over the chilly, hard ground, the sounds of the underworld reaching their ears. This place was not quiet, especially not near Tartarus, though seemed to be filled with a vastness of emptiness. But when they reached his throne room, his voice thundered. "Aphrodite!" It echoed throughout the vaulted ceiling, shuddering throughout it. He stood still, refusing to release her or so much as look at her. "Keep your promise and I shall keep mine!" Hades... was in an anxious mood.
Persephone
Persephone felt her heart pound in a sense of trepidation as Hades leaned down, still keeping himself slightly above her. She could taste his breath on her face and she swallowed heavily, a shiver running through her body. The girl was so naïve, so trusting, though, that she ignored it, when what she should have been doing was running. Running as fast as she could to the safety of Demeter's home. But, it was too late. With a sharp tug, Persephone's arm was yanked behind her back, and an iron grip came to her waist. She let out a whine, her breathing suddenly panting. "L-Lord Hades," She gasped. "You're hurting me!" Her other wrist followed the first, and she was flipped over his shoulder, eyes widening.
"Where are we going?" Her body was stiff and she kicked her legs softly against his chest. He didn't answer. "Where are we going?!" she asked again, though it was more of a shout, panic rising in her. "Hades!" Oh no, oh no, oh no… what was happening, what was going on? A lump welled in her throat, and she began thrashing. They were mounted into the chariot, and she could see nothing but the rising of the grove they were in. Her home was only a mile back, but she suddenly feared it would soon be… hundreds away. "Hades!" She was starting to scream. "Let go! Let go of me!" Her thrashing grew more violent, her legs now beating against his chest as the earth opened up right then and there, swallowing them, literally swallowing and stealing them.
"Mama!" She cried out desperately, as if the Earth Goddess could hear them. "Please! Please! Hades, no!" And then, the soil closed up around them.
It was dark.
There was nothing. Only the stiff air of the ground whipping through her hair, a damp chill rushing over her body, goose bumps spreading over her little limbs.
"Hades!" She chocked out. "Hades – I don't want to go down there! I want to go home! Let me go home!" The kicking of her legs grew idle, though her panting was now erratic, a panic attack spreading over her. "I want to go home!" Her hands were twisted awkwardly, the fingers white from lack of circulation. And just like that, the darkness was gone. A bursting light, eerie, but there, came over her. Persephone turned her head, She inhaled sharply at what she saw. The Underworld. The girl fell silent, eyes rounding. Lamps were alight everywhere, illuminating a pitch black castle, something bigger than the likes of anything she'd ever known. Bigger than what she'd imagined when Mama used to tell her stories. Territories were spread out, paths leading to everywhere and anywhere, souls floating in lines, their blue shadows glowing. A gate kept them from it all though, hundreds of feet high, black, almost invisible, jagged. It opened immediately for them, though, and a giant… a beast stood there, three headed and horrible, drool sliding down its mouth, ready to bark, to attack. If Persephone thought she was still before, she was certainly statuesque now. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, before gritting her teeth together. The dog sniffed her idly with its left head, far enough away to avoid Hades' punishing hand, before lowering itself to the ground, clearly knowing his master, giving them access into the dark world.
And when the chariot stopped, and Persephone was set down, she was so scared she was unable to move, a tearful inhale the only sound the left her, eyes wetting in utter terror. Hades though did not seem to notice her apparent horror, though, literally dragging her towards the grand palace. She stumbled after him, falling often, never really able to get back up, as his motion was constant. Her head was whirling, looking every which way, the sounds of people… some screaming… crying, burying themselves in her ears. She was so cold as well. So terribly cold.
"I… I want to go home… I want to go home…" She shuddered, her voice no higher than a whisper as she repeated her mantra, unable to struggle, she was so shocked, confused. The sounds of the souls, the ones that had crawled into her very soul, they were blocked out as soon as the palace doors closed behind them. It was a beautiful palace, but Persephone really couldn't notice. All she heard was the clatter of her bare feet against solid, black granite, his sandals hardly making a sound. There were paintings, and statues, but everything was cold, informal, and it all went by in a blur. It didn't look like anyone lived here. She stumbled once more, this time, her knee hitting the ground with a clatter. She was immediately pulled back up, but a bruise formed in the cap. "Slow down! At least slow down!" Persephone whimpered, her leg aching. Was he deaf though now, to her? Why would he not speak?! Oh Gods, she didn't understand! Not at all!
Then though, they entered through a great hall, and the Lord of Death finally stopped, Persephone therefore falling to a stop as well, her wrist still encased in an unforgiving hand. "Hades… please… please… explain!" Persephone begged, taking her free hand to tug on his robes, clutching at him. "I'm so scared… I'm so confused! I want to go home! I want my Mama and I do not want to be here!" she blubbered. She gazed about the room they were, also granite floors like the rest of the palace she had seen. The room was mostly empty, save for statues along the outer sides, and etching carved into the roof and walls. It was large though – built for hundreds to fit in. Two thrones sat close against the wall, centered and elevated, both magnificent. Each was ebony, winded, tall, intimidating, red pillows adorning them. Red rugs were set upon the steps down from the thrones, leading all the way to where Persephone and Hades stood. Persephone noticed though that one of the thrones was smaller, made a bit more delicately. It winded gently, a feminine glaze, looking never used, never touched. She was torn from it though as the Goddess of Love, someone she knew fairly well, stepped from a side room, followed by two strangers. The last one, a male with long white hair, closed the door behind them.
"Aphrodite!" Persephone sputtered, trying to rush towards her, the grasp on her wrist though preventing her, like a leash, from going too far. She could see the Goddess's throat work as she swallowed uncomfortably, not able to lock gazes with the girl. In her hands, Aphrodite held a book. A book Persephone found unfamiliar. It was large, and golden, with black embroidered into the cover. Upon it, Persephone couldn't read the text, it was too far away. "Aphrodite, please – what is happening? Do you know? I don't! I want to go back – can you take me back!?" Aphrodite once more said nothing. Persephone normally would have commented on the injuries covering her aunt-like being's face, but she was in such a state, the thought slipped her mind.
"Lord Hades, Maiden Persephone," The blonde greeted them, voice hollow. Persephone blinked at the words. She had never heard someone utter her title.
"That isn't…" And hadn't Aphrodite always called her Kore! The older Goddess though lifted a hand to silence the child. She placed the book under one arm, using her free hand to swish across the air. A table appeared, long, white, and covered in various objects. Once finished, she handed the book to the woman – black haired, green eyed, who took it quietly, holding it delicately in her arms. Persephone glanced down upon the table. Two gold rings, one tiara, and a golden quill, sitting next to ink equally as bright. Aphrodite cleared her throat.
"We can begin," She said pursing her lips.
"Begin what?" Persephone sputtered. "Let go of my hand! Let go!" She finally snapped at Hades, trying once more to tug from his grip. Everyone ignored her.
"We are gathered in the Hall of the Dead," Aphrodite started, "To bind eternally the soul of Hades, elsewise known as Plouton, son of Cronus and Rhea, eldest of the Olympians, Master and Guardian of Cerberus the three-headed beast, Keeper of the Helm of Invisibility and the Biden, God of riches and minerals, Decider of mortal fates, and King of the Underworld, One of the Three Worlds, and all who dwell within it to the soul of Persephone, elsewise known as Kore, daughter of Zeus and Demeter, Goddess of flowers and corn, and hers to his. We bind them together this day in holy, godly matrimony."
Persephone suddenly found herself unable to breathe. As if she were kicked in the esophagus ten times. She fell to her knees, her world titling, her mouth gaping, nothing but horrified gasps parting from her lips. She stared back up at Hades, shaking her head side to side slowly, painfully slowly, unable to focus on anything but that word.
"Witnesses to this event are Hecate, Goddess of Witchcraft, and Thanatos, God of Peaceful Death. I, Aphrodite, Goddess of Love and Beauty, and only second to Queen Hera in marriage, will proceed over this momentous occasion." Aphrodite turned to them, but Persephone could no longer see. Everything was blurring. "If there is any objection to this marriage, speak now or for eternity hold your peace."
"Me." Persephone breathed the word, still staring blankly ahead of her. The Goddess of Love opened her mouth to continue, but Persephone jerked from the ground, refusing to be ignored. "Me!" She shrieked, taking her other hand to claw into Hades' grip, her eyes welling with tears. "Me, me, me, me, me!" she screamed over and over again. "I object! I object, all of you listen, I object!" Slapping adamantly at the forearm of the elder God, Persephone glared at Aphrodite, her lips trembling. "Me, damn it!" It might have been the first time that word left Persephone's mouth. "Don't you hear me?! Don't you care?!" Persephone had known Aphrodite her whole life and now she was being terribly betrayed not only on her own behalf, but on behalf of her mother, a woman who trusted Aphrodite.
Aphrodite finally gazed upon the child, her eyes sad. "You are not a speaking party." She turned back towards the both of them, flowing back into the ceremony, though giving explanation. Hecate and Thanatos stood idly, both gazing upon Hades, neutral faces painting their expressions. "Let it be known, Lady Persephone, the bridal party, at the age of fifteen, has been gifted for marriage by her father, King Zeus. Guardianship will be bestowed upon Lord Hades until the underage party reaches the age of one-hundred: the age of adulthood in the Laws of Gods. Marital status will be bestowed upon Lord Hades for eternity."
A sob welled in Persephone's throat, and she beat uselessly against what held her. "Hades! No, you know you can't!"
"If there is no objection," Aphrodite murmured, her voice lowered, "then, I go to you, Lord Hades." The Goddess's brown gaze focused solely upon the Lord of the Dead. "Do you take the Goddess, Maiden Persephone as your wife? To take property of her not only as a guardian, but as a husband? To add and care for whatever assets she may have as your own? To take the head of your new household, to provide for her, protect her, lord over her, and set aside boundaries for her well-being? To accept Maiden Persephone into your home and spend your never-ending lifetime beside her, through sickness and health, wealthy and poor states, through both good and bad times? To remain faithful and loving with a firm hand and a pure heart for her and only her?" Aphrodite paused. That was only half of the oath – the one given to lesser Gods taking wives, or the few mortals Aphrodite deemed worthy of marrying. A royal oath was a bit different.
"Do you also take Maiden Persephone as Queen of the Underworld? To rule beside you? To give her dominion over this realm and a title to all your subjects as 'Highness', 'Lady', 'Majesty', or any other variation designated by yourself? To have her second only to you in the Underworld, unless further decreed by you, and have her own decrees or laws be binding unless you specifically overrule? Do you open your vaults to her, your court to her, and deem her worthy to put your crown upon her head? To take Maiden Persephone as your royal consort, and make her one of the three Queens of the Universe?"
Persephone was now at the point where she was begging. Seeing to Hades' sense of pride, his goodness that she had discovered from him only a few days ago, she pleaded again with all her might, this time, digging to find the heart that had stopped him from violating the day before. "Lord Hades… Hades this is… so… wrong… and bad… you barely know me! You cannot love me like this! But what you do know is that… I… I… I…" Persephone was trying her very hardest not to cry. She wanted so badly to be articulate. "I cannot be married! I cannot! And I don't want to be your Queen! I don't want to be a Queen at all! I am a daughter – a daughter to your beloved sister! Why would you steal from her?!" Still childish, it could be seen that the girl was on a verge of a tantrum, her face reddening, unable to decide between infinite sadness, or terrible anger. She grabbed on his arm with her free hand, her lips shaking and wet. "Listen to me!" Her voice had risen to a shriek. "Let me go home! Do not make me a wife! Take me from your world and bring me back to my own!"
Hades
He had not expected her to willingly come - quite the opposite. But that hadn't prepared him for such a violent reaction. At first she was merely startled, confused and even a bit in pain as he threw her over his shoulder and mounted his chariot. Then, she began to thrash, kicking and struggling with her feet pounding to his chest. The first time it winded him before he corrected his stance so it wouldn't affect him. Instead, he held onto her with an unrelenting grip. He refused to release her for she would become his bride, at long last he would marry one his heart yearned for. But it was against her will. As Aphrodite said before, he would have eternity to regain her love and trust. She would fall in love with him, he told himself. No matter how long it took. If he had not taken her, another god would and she would never love him. When Demeter returned, she would forever forbid he so much as be with her, speak with her. And the girl was likely to tell her what happened. The goddess would never forgive him of it. What other choice did he have if he wanted this woman? All he could do was this... he didn't have the time. He was backed into a corner and it frustrated him immensely. Could he not be selfish for once in his life and have the girl he loved... to have happiness? He would have to hurt her first. That he knew. How impossible it was for one to remain a virgin, for eternity, especially with her beauty! But, she would be his alone and no other god or mortal could touch her. This woman he loved, who he was going to make despise him.
Through the halls they went, his hand mercilessly around her wrist to drag her forward. He spoke not a word to her, not as she pleaded to him, demanding to be returned home. This was no place for her, Persephone. The cold, dark underworld that was totally devoid of life except for the undying gods who dwelt there. Like a flower plucked from the sunny field and brought into the cellar in a jar. To wilt and die without its roots nor the sun on its petals. He plucked her from the earth to set her upon a throne she didn't want, not before the dead who pleaded and groveled at his feet for mercy. She would see that side of him, dark and unforgiving, just but cruel. And now she was seeing it, tall and foreboding, what the souls of the dead saw at their judgment. That hand that ruled with an iron fist now clutched around her fragile wrist.
Such a babe! She begged to be returned home, to see her mama! Confessing her fear and desire to leave this place as soon as she possibly could, paralyzed. But he was unmoving, face like a statue carved from stone. Grim and not batting an eye to her pathetic presence. And then, she was at last silent, taking everything in around her of the great throne room. And they were not alone. In came the goddess of love, of witchcraft, and god of peaceful death. Aphrodite, to whom the child called, Hecate, who revealed her to the Lord of the Dead, and Thanatos, the one unwilling to accept these changes, but had not choice but to comply with his master and childhood companion. Aphrodite had a heart, surely, how guilt weighed heavily on her face! Persephone called out to her but she was ignored, Aphrodite swallowing uncomfortably. And her injuries did not go past the god of the dead. Ah, it seemed she truly was fulfilling her side of the deal. Perhaps he could allow her now to have the mortal man. Ares was the true test as it was. If she was willing to go through that for him, he could sympathize with her. At least. Maybe the goddess of love had finally fallen in love.
There, everything was before them. He felt his heart suddenly begin to jump to life, pounding hard in his chest and with fervor. The rings, the tiara, the great book. And Persephone was ignored. She was the guest of honor, but she had no right to speak still a child and beneath the authority of her parents - and soon her husband. And the moment this was announced, reality hit the child hard. She gasped and staggered to her knees, causing him to jerk some with her shifting weight. He jerked her up, however, once more into a standing position. He felt her shaking her head in disbelief, her eyes on him. He was destroying her trust. She told him that she could NOT marry but he was still doing the exact opposite. He was going to marry her himself. Against her will. And now she was no longer holding her peace.
Hades slowly closed his eyes, dipping his head as she shouted, screaming her rejection of this marriage. Each time he shouted "me", it was a dagger through his heart. Her fingers clawed into his hand, trying to pull free, then slapping his arm. Her palm smacked the exposed flesh of his arm but he did not even wince. Instead, his eyes were closed, head tilted forward a fraction. His face was still unreadable, but his brow seemed heavier, as if a great burden had been placed on it. Yes, he could hear her, yes he cared, but for this, he was being selfish - to destroy her life and wind it to his. And there was absolutely nothing she could do with it, only go along. Even if it was fighting every second of it. Luckily, Aphrodite put an end to it, explaining it thoroughly in many words that she, Persephone, had no voice at all. Rather, her father, the father she had never known, had sold her off to his brother. Thus, she then turned to him, telling him he could not, a sob in the back of her throat. His eyes slowly opened but he did not look at her.
"You know nothing," he said but without accusation. "You accuse me of being unable to love you, when you know nothing of love, not even as I explained it to you. You could only see me as a friend or companion, not the love of a wife I desired. You tell me to take a wife, one better than you, but I can only have you, no matter what your mother may say. She took love from me once, and will not again. Even if I must force you to dwell in these dark, lonely halls." His head tilted back some, his face now lit with determination. He meant every word he said, and was going to say. Thus, he turned and brought her closer so both of her hands were caught in his. His eyes met hers at last and his lips parted to speak.
"I, Hades," he responded firmly, shoulders steady, "son of Cronus and Rhea, eldest of the Olympians, Master and Guardian of Cerberus the three-headed beast, Keeper of the Helm of Invisibility and the Biden, God of riches and minerals, Decider of mortal fates, and King of the Underworld, One of the Three Worlds, and all who dwell within it, take Maiden Persephone as my wife, as her guardian and her husband. I shall add to and care for whatever assets she may have as if they were my own, to head my household, to provide for her, to protect her, and to set aside boundaries for her well-being with a firm hand. I accept her into my home and shall spend my unending life at her side through sickness and health, wealth and poverty, through all times, both good and bad. My love shall always be with her, for only her, pure and unblemished." He took a breath the same place Aphrodite had paused. "I shall make her my queen, ruler of the Underworld at my side with full authority second only to my own. All that I have shall belong to her as it were I, for as my royal consort, she will be one of the three Queens of the Universe." His head bent down and he touched his mouth to her brow. Her father had, already said her vows, they had no need to be spoken - she would only reject them. If Zeus was there, he would respond. But, since he was not, Hades would speak for him, having been given the right to by her father.
"Aphrodite," he said, his voice now deep. "Her vows have already been agreed upon by her father." In many words saying: just get on with it. He was impatient, his desire beginning to flood into his breast. She was so close, so soon he would consummate their marriage. The gods would not see it as an acceptable marriage unless it was consummated - and he planned to. She would never agree - not yet. Later she would, in time. That... was the only hope he had. That he had time to earn her love and trust.
Persephone
Persephone finally couldn't help the few tears that had started down her cheeks. There would be many more shed that day but that she had not yet thought into. To think of the future was painful, while the present was already so horrendous. She opened her mouth to speak, to once more try and rationalize, to engage Hades' pity, his affection for her that she thought he possessed. That there would be, must be, something she could say, something she could do to prevent this. But Persephone must not have spoken quickly enough, both hands now entangled in Hades' her body parallel to his.
"No," she sputtered. "No, no, no!" Through his vows, she chanted the word, blue eyes locked with black. Hers were large, pathetic, his were narrowed and firm. The vows he spoke were clear, crisp, no room for misinterpretation. They rang so clearly, carving themselves into her mind. How her life was now forever changed. Now there was no turning back. She swallowed, suddenly feeling very ill. She was going to vomit. She was sure she was going to be sick! Woozily swaying back and forth, her breathing slowed, less erratic, the tears dripping, each with a 'plop', to the floor. By the last of the vows, Persephone was leaning against Hades' chest, numbly unaware that she had embraced her captor, her eyes hazy.
"How could, why would you?" She whimpered, finding herself as the nausea died down, before pushing away, hands still tightly embraced, bruised in his grip. "You must hate me for damning me!" she cried.
Aphrodite pretended not to notice. She had betrayed the child as well. And it would do no good to croon after her when the Goddess of Love had forced this marriage upon Persephone. "Lord Hades," Aphrodite gave a nod of her head at the mention of vows. Normally, the woman would go through her set, or two in this case, (as Amphitrite and Hera both did) or the girl's father would, but, this was fine as well. It had been pre-determined Persephone would be obedient, respectful, and a good wife. Or she would be punished as a child would. She was firmly planted under the thumbs of the elder Gods around her. They would act as her caretakers as well as her court and Hades as her husband, and that was the end really of the problem. To force the words from Kore would now be impossible. And cruel.
The Goddess of Beauty took the rings in her own hands, stepping in front of the table, taking Hades' left hand, sliding the band onto his ring finger, before gently tugging Persephone's own wriggling left hand from his, sliding the other ring on her finger. Again, in a normal situation, the rings would be bestowed on one another by each other. It wasn't normal. And Hades would still have his part. Persephone fought against the ring, her fingers curling into a fist, her shoulders hunched, as Aphrodite patiently unwound the hand, sliding the gold symbol upon her.
"You… you…" She looked towards the Goddess of Love, her heart welling with anger. Yet, she couldn't say anything negative. Couldn't find it in herself to hurt with words. Persephone hated herself in this moment – hated herself for loving too quickly, too often. To be so naïve, when so far, it had only been used to the advantage of those more cunning. "I won't forgive you! Neither will my Mama!" She spat instead, the first wet whine forcing its way from her throat. Persephone looked away. Aphrodite looked away as well, an enormous amount of guilt building in her. She was almost tempted to call the entire thing off… but the vows had been done. Whether or not they finished, the ceremony would always still be in limbo. They couldn't erase what had been said.
Turning around, firm in her determination to finish, Aphrodite then took the tiara, before returning to the almost married couple. This finery would be one of many Persephone would own in her collection. Aphrodite extended it for Hades to take. "When you place this tiara upon Maiden Persephone's head, please repeat the words:
I, Hades, King of the Underworld, crown you, Persephone, Queen. This crown is the first of many of my gifts to you. This is symbolic in not only your reign, but, of my sole position as your provider. It is my first step towards cherishing my vows to you. Everything you need or desire will be bestowed to you by me and me alone. With this, you are my wife and my charge.
Maiden Persephone's acceptance, once again, has already been established." Aphrodite said this without any sort of emotion. It was a common Grecian tradition that a husband would give his wife an object or, more commonly, a piece of food at their wedding. She would either wear the object or take a bite of out of the food to signify acceptance into the household. Royal ceremonies could combine the two with the crown, or, if you were Zeus and Hera and wanted to elongate the glory as much as you could, both parts could be split up. Aphrodite doubted Hades wanted this to go on any longer. Combining things even further, going slightly against the protocol of waiting, she nodded towards Hecate while allowing Hades to bestow his gift. The Goddess of Witchcraft brought the book she had been holding so carefully towards the table, opening it. The book, run only on magic, immediately spun to the designated page without need of hands.
"We all know this to be the Book of Royal Marriage," Aphrodite announced it. It was all part of the ceremony, and she couldn't skip over these things. "Those in the royal bloodline sign their names with their spouses and become a part of the family tree." Only Gods of course, and only those birthed from proper marriages – this was where it started to grow complex. Demi-Gods or children born out of wedlock were not recognized on the tree, and had their own, much bigger, less exclusive book. Not too many names, compared to how many Gods and demi-gods lived, existed within the fine pages. Zeus was the only god though, so far, to be in the book twice. Once with Metis, Athena being their offspring, and other, of course, with Hera, after Metis's death. The very first names in the book dated back with Gaia and Uranus. The most current names were Amphitrite and Poseidon. Aphrodite nodded towards Hecate and Thanatos. One after the other, they took the quill, dipped it into the gold ink, and signed themselves at witnessing the event. Aphrodite then took the quill herself and signed her own name as head of the occasion. Their names would take the center of the page. Then they would be added to the back, where the tree lay, and spots would open underneath their names for whatever children they would produce. Then this mockery of a celebration would be over. Hades and Persephone would be legally married. And the ceremony would draw to a close. Of course, Aphrodite could go on and on, but really, she knew the moment that Hades had left the quill back in the ink, he would be gone, taking his new bride with him.
"Lord Hades, you may sign for your wife if you so wish."
Aphrodite furrowed her brows at her own comment. Only one other husband had signed for his wife. That was Hephaestus, signing for her. It had been less than a day since her coming from the Ocean, and Aphrodite remembered being confused, scared, completely unable to speak the language, and not knowing of any of the customs. Since she had no guardian, Zeus had decreed that her not objecting (to something she knew nothing about) was therefore consent. The Goddess of Love wanted to sneer at the thought. And yet, she was not stopping Hades from doing almost the same thing. Only it was very clearly non-consensual. Instead, she dipped the quill for him, and extended the gold slicked feather to his digits.
Persephone meanwhile tried to grab at the quill as well, wanting to break it, not wanting her name in that book. Not ever wanting her name in that book. Her face was scrunched up, still trying to keep some remaining dignity by not weeping hysterically, though her eyes were constantly wet, making it hard to see. She, though, like everyone else, knew her cause was useless. It would be best to lie down and allow it to happen, but the stubbornness in the girl could not be refuted. Managing to get her fingers upon a single feather, Persephone yanked it out, a hissing noise made from the magical quill as it regrew itself. It caused her hand to jerk back in surprise, lips trembling.
Hades
His grip softened some as she melted against him, unable to even support herself. He wasn't so foolish as to think she did so for comfort. Surely she needed it, but he was the last person she would want it from. He still wanted to take her into his arms and embrace her but now was hardly the time. But, that moment of weakness passed as she demanded to know why he did it, how he could possibly do it to her... then tried to push away. He tightened his grip again for that so she couldn't slide from his hands. He didn't respond to her accusation of hating her but instead shook his head some and allowed his eyes to focus, instead, on Aphrodite. The goddess responded to him and agreed to do as he said. He did not have the patience to go through the whole occasion. It would be foolish to do so with this being an unwilling union... and all the more cruel in its mockery against her. Thus, he released one of her hands and held it out for the goddess. She slid the ring onto his finger and he felt the burning of the contract through his flesh. She wouldn't be able to easily remove her own ring. But, it would be difficult to get it on in the first place. That was why he moved his hand and gripped her wrist tightly again so it would be held still for Aphrodite. The girl squirmed beneath him but he held her hand very still. She was quite small beside him and no where near as strong as he was.
Then, it was on her hand. He exhaled and listened to her shout her hatred towards Aphrodite that she would never forgive her. His eyes leveled on her, a warning in those dark depths. Her feet were growing cold and he would not allow her to back down from this. He refused to go back after coming this far. Persephone would never so much as look at him again if he let her go now. All he could do was keep her in his halls, in his bed, and slowly try to soften her heart once more. However, Aphrodite didn't give in but continued.
At first, he took the tiara with one hand before he thought about his situation. His rough gripped softened, releasing both of her wrists to, instead, slide on arm around her waist and draw her fully against his breast. It was his free hand that still held the tiara, head tipped forward. One could almost feel, at that moment, the entire earth around his feet, as if one could touch everything by laying a hand on a single patch of it. Though this was hardly a worthy ceremony, he was still the Lord of the Underworld and all that went with it. Though he now held her as one would a child or lover, he had full authority to place that symbol upon her unwilling head. From the moment he stole her from the realm above, this was the gentlest he had held her and probably the gentlest it would be that day.
"I, Hades, King of the Underworld," he declaimed, "crown you, Persephone, Queen. This crown is the first of many of my gifts to you. This is symbolic in not only your reign, but, of my sole position as your provider. It is my first step towards cherishing my vows to you. Everything you need or desire will be bestowed to you by me and me alone. With this, you are my wife and my charge." He lowered it and placed the crown upon her head. It settled there upon her red locks, glistening gold like fire. He drew his hand back and pressed his lips to her brow.
And, finally, he felt his fingers itch as the book was present and signed. He was relieved with Thanatos acceptance - at least enough that he wouldn't not deny his lord in not being a witness and signing. With signing, he also eternally agreed that he would accept his Lord's marriage to this woman. Thus, as the quill was handed towards him, he moved his free hand to take it. Of course, she seemed to recover enough to reach for it, no longer was he holding her arms down. It snapped but then began to regrow itself. It didn't surprise him so he just took it and fluidly signed it where he was designated. Then, he moved it over a fraction and signed her own name, simple and unadorned: Persephone. The quill was deposited unceremoniously into the well and his eyes flickered downwards towards his bride, and now wife. Just the thought itself produced a thrill of joy in his breast though it was bittersweet. But it was not entirely over yet. And he had been waiting for this since the moment he saw her. And now it had grown only stronger. Not even her anger and sorrow could break off that burning desire he had for her.
Bending some, he scooped up her legs in one swift motion and brought her up into his cradled arms. One hand moved for but a moment to grab her chin so he could press his mouth to hers. It would have to do. "Come," he said at last, his breath hot against her mouth, "let us finish what we began before, my bride, my wife. To consummate the marriage we began here." He shifted and his eyes lifted to lock with Aphrodite's. "Our deal shall be kept, and I shall return to you what is yours." He straightened and turned, fabric fluttering around his body. "Have none bother us!" And he would not stay in that room any longer. The passageway swallowed them, covering them in darkness before faintly glowing torches appeared - these never dimmed or went out, drawing from the vast power of the lord of the realm to stay alight. And it was so quiet there, the only noise the sound of his footsteps, the movement of his toga, and herself. His grip was tight, so she could not escape, but he still cradled her, almost as a father would a disobedient child.
Then, the doors of his room flung inward at his silent command, into darkness they went, until the same glowing lights went on. These went on and off at his will, so if he wished for darkness, there would be. It was now only dimly lit and the doors slammed and locked behind him. His intent was made very clear from his words in the throne room and the fact he had brought them to his bedroom. He dropped her unceremoniously on the bed, not restraining her now. He knew she was likely to flee, or try to, but, instead, he undid the clasp of his toga tugged off his clothing so he would be completely naked. His eyes turned, burning with desire as he looked upon her. His Persephone, soon all of her would be his... except for her heart. But, what would she do? He watched her, standing at the edge of his massive bed with his hands at his sides. He was all too-ready for her. Had been for some time.
Persephone
Persephone let out a sharp whine, her hand being held, the gold band sealed upon her ring finger. She tried to use the thumb on the same hand to pry it off, but it was stuck on her. She stared down at her hand, face contorting further as her shoulders hunched harder. The first of actual sobs parted, followed by many others, until her symphony could finally be deemed as weeping. She was so hysterical, that even when released and pulled to his breast, she allowed him without a fight. Persephone did not even bother to look up at him. With a crown placed upon her head, her name signed into the book (grasping at the pen had done little else than startle her), Persephone was scooped into the arms of her new husband.
Husband.
It was done. Her marriage was sealed. And looking up at Hades, it seemed he wanted nothing more than to devour her. The weeping girl was held so firmly by the God of the Dead, one arm tightly wrapped round her waist, also gripping her arms, the other cupped under her legs to support her. And as his mouth descended upon her, Persephone's eyes widened, their lips hot, hers wet, the kiss sloppy and hard. She shuddered, shoving at his chest, trying to break free, now, a new threat in her mind as his words rang clear in her hand.
Consummation. Everything Hades had taught her. Her virginity… he planned to take it too!
A new shot of energy forced its way through Persephone's veins. She shoved and attacked, and tried to break free with all her might. The girl uselessly clawed at his fingers with her nails, legs jerking up and down as far as the strong arm would let her. "No! I will not! I will n-not!" The girl's words rang far down the halls even as they departed from the throne room. So much so that Aphrodite's head bowed in shame for her own actions. Persephone fought the entire way there, bashing her head into Hades' chin, forcing her dress to slide up from all the ruckus and shimmying she had done. As they finally made it into the King's apartments, the lights on, but only dimly, Persephone was taken into the master bedroom, dropped like a bundle onto the bed, her eyes skittish. The crown finally fell from her head into the sheets, her hair now wild and tangled. The doors slammed closed, a click heard. The little Goddess had been so shocked at the drop, she had stopped moving only momentarily, sinking into the creaminess of the bed – the likes of softness she had never known. She gazed up at Hades, heart pounding in her chest. Her position was one where she was deposited to sit half on her knees, half supporting herself with arms shoved in the mattress. She watched him. The only sound was her heavy breathing and whimpers. Persephone knew now Hades would not be reasoned with – she was already his wife. Why would he need reason now? She could not view him as a friend, someone with a heart for her pleas. Only as someone very dangerous and very cruel to do this to her.
A memory shot through her, glazing past her eyes. She had been walking with her mother and they had seen a doe upon a mound of plush grass, far off, but still in their clear view. It had been hounded by a wolf, corned, about to be devoured. There was no escape for it. It shuddered, and scuffed it's hoofs, and snorted, but it was all for naught. It was going to be eaten. Demeter had tried to explain the circle of life to Persephone at that time, but the girl sobbed and wailed, and tried to reach out to save what she knew to be in danger. Her mother, in her affection towards her daughter, turned that wolf into a bush, thereby, saving the little deer. Persephone was the doe in the predator's gaze. Demeter could not save her now though.
And as the toga of her Lord fell to the floor, baring him and his moonlit skin in all his glory, Persephone's throat worked to swallow. So strong. So terribly strong. And so bent on having her. The girl could only work with what was a survival instinct. To run, to flee.
Throwing a pillow at Hades, the young girl leapt from the bed, thrusting herself at the door, grasping at the handle, pulling with all her strength. She smashed her shoulder into that same door over and over again when it was clear it would not budge, bruises automatically forming on her unblemished skin. She couldn't bear to look behind her though – to admit defeat and come willingly into the bed that would end everything she ever knew: that would end her mother's love for her, that would end her life as a maiden.
"Let me out!" Her voice was croaking, already exhausted from her tears, and she slid to the ground, still tugging idly at the knocker. Persephone could have run into the other rooms of the apartments, if she hadn't been so bent on trying this door. Patience though for Hades, Persephone knew, was thin. She had misused her one attempt. "Out," her voice cracked, smacking her head against the dark oak. Now, she merely clutched at the handle, refusing to be pried from it.
Hades
Hades grunted softly, eyes following her as she fled towards the door as he lightly batted the pillow away with his hand. He didn't stop her right away, instead watching her as she struggled for the door. He felt guilt in his breast but he would not allow it to cloud his mind. Of course he had a sudden desire to leave her be, but he knew the path he was taking could not be turned back now. Instead, his bare feet (after kicking off his sandals) padded over the ground with only a soft sound. For one so large, he hardly made any noise, as if he were a wraith himself. But, he crouched down, his arms moving around her waist. Her hand was tight around the handle and she adamantly refused to relinquish her grip. Thus, one arm lightly wound around her waist while the other lifted to curl around her hand. His cool fingers pried hers from the door, pulling her up so her back was to his breast and her feet were off the floor.
His lips brushed her ear and he lightly bit it. "No," he responded. "I will not let you out. I have you now, I will not let you go, my beloved one..." He turned and walked to deposit her on the bed. But he didn't turn her over, she would only fight him for that. Instead, he pinned her that way, her belly to the bed and back facing towards him. He placed his knee on the bed, crouched above her. His eyes followed her soft curves before he bent down and kissed the visible curve of her neck after brushing her hair aside with his fingers. His weight was above her, his other hand beginning to explore down her length. This would be his, he thought. Then, he found the clasp, undoing it with his fingers to pull it off. Her clothing, he did not want it, it was only in the way. Even against her protest, his fingers slid up the bottom of the hem, hiking it up. He moved up farther, his thumb latching around to have it just beneath her arms. It was then that would be the biggest trial. "Don't fight me," he said into her ear. "It will hurt you far more." She could not see his face, one that was sorrowful, he couldn't bring himself to. But his hand cupped her armpit, his chest rising and falling against her mostly naked back. Then, he tore off the rest of her clothing, tossing it aside so she could not grab it to cover herself. All she wore now was that same fabric that had irritated him so many times before, about her most sweet triangle. He allowed it as it was then, however, rather sliding his arm beneath her waist with his hand cupping her breast. He lifted her to his breast, their naked flesh bare to one another.
Could he not look her in the face as he did this to her? he thought grimly. Could he not face those tears that were caused so selfishly by him? He released her and turned her over on her back so she flopped against the bed; his eyes sliding down her length, drinking it all in. Her round, perfect little moons on the soft expanse of her breast to her navel. Her red locks were splayed out around her head, cushioning that youthful face that was filled with expressions he never wished to see. But her soft blue eyes, eyes of her parentage. But he tore his eyes from hers, rather allowing them to slide beneath him to the rest of her body, just able to see the gentle curls beneath the fabric of her pubic area, soft, virgin. No man had seen her sacred area, not touched as he had. He wanted to kiss every corner of her body, to love it sweetly - but now there was no time for that. His love would flee from him, even now he was at risk for a slap to the face. Her hands were free, but her shoulders he pinned. Soon, though, that was no longer true. He could do so later, fully love this woman - now, he had to steal from her virtue, make it his own. Or the gods would not recognize their marriage. Thus, his hand slid from her shoulder down her body to her legs, clutching her knee. She would know well now what he would do, or try to do. If he had to put up with her fight, he would. Or if she had given up, he knew he would have to die a bit inside of himself to continue, to take that unresponsive woman. But, from what he knew of her, that wasn't likely - not her fiery little nature. Not unless he already quenched that...
His hands forced her legs apart, his body now between them to not allow her to struggle and hide herself from him. He gripped her as he had before, palm cupping her virgin core. Even if she did not want this, he needed her body prepared. He would not cause her more agony than he had to - and having her not aroused would only hurt the both of them. She was not wet, he could feel it on his hand, but not for long. Rather, his hand slid beneath the fabric as his free hand gripped both of her hands to prevent her from doing either of them harm. Then, he began to finger her, at first gently then more firmly. Pressing aside the soft folds of flesh, his fingers winding in the red curls. His fingertip pressed in, nail grazing the sensitive walls and causing them to quiver against the invader. His finger lightly thrust in and out, not going deep at all, but would still cause her great discomfort, that he knew - at least at first. He could feel the slick walls pulling at his finger, thrilling him. He knew how much pleasure this would cause him...but also how much pain and agony it would cause her. For someone so young and small, also a virgin. But there was nothing he could do about that. In time, her body would grow to accept him, no matter his size, even cause her pleasure, right? But, that was merely his hope. He would never forgive himself if she could never find pleasure in the spanse of his groin. Thus, when he felt the slick juices slide over his fingers, he made a soft noise in his throat, pleased. Make her want it, to cause that conflict in her mind, that conflict was good. She honestly did not want it, but the time before when he had done this, she reacted in desire, but turned away in her confusion of what she had felt - thinking it bad. His finger was teasing, giving the barest of hints of what pleasure he could bring to her. But also the pain as well.
At last, he could no longer bear it. Holding back before, his face was twisting in desire and need. He couldn't hold himself back - his ability to faded in the light he had been denied multiple times, and he had no other choice than to continue... His groin throbbed insistently, his shaft swollen to its full length, pulsing hot with blood. It was against her smooth leg, there was nothing else he could do for that in his position. So, he tore the fabric from her without ceremony, almost greedy in motion though his eyes only had lust. This position, though, he knew would be no good, not for what he wished to do. His hand slid from between her legs and he instead pulled her up by her wrists so she was in his lap. His hands released hers and he instead gripped beneath her soft, plush behind, lifting her so her chest was firmly against his. His eyes flickered closed then opened again at the situation. No, he could not think of them right now, instead on his next action - break the veil that kept her from him.
He gazed down at his young niece, now fully in his arms with her legs forcibly straddled to his waist. Her only support was his hands beneath the cheeks of her behind. He went quick, to make it over as soon as possible. Her body was curled to his, from his own urging. What she did with her hands, was what she wished of them - and he assumed was to fight him off. But, his grip was sure. Should she fight, she would only force her own self down. He bit her lower lip, eyes burning. "I take all of you," he growled, "as my queen and bride. Fight me, you only cause yourself pain." That was a lie. The light he had shown her in the depths of his eyes were gone. It would cause her pain, surely, either way but himself as well. If his heart didn't already hurt, it bled now. He released some of the tension in his arms, allowing her weight to press down upon his erected shaft. It pressed firmly to her entrance, his mouth now locked firmly with hers. Distracting her, his tongue pressed forcibly past her lips into her mouth, breath now hot. Then, with a swift motion, he dropped her, his hips bucking upwards. Her flesh parted, squeezing about him as he hit the barrier. It burst, hot blood spilling down the length of his hard shaft. He grunted, one hand now cradling the back of her head. He had at last broken it... and her virginity was gone.
Persephone
Persephone squealed, trying so hard to keep her grip, bile rising in her throat. "No!" The 'o' elongated as he forced her from the floor, her legs kicking out, arms thrashing. Even her head jerked as the older God bit at the sensitive part of her ear. "Please, no, please!" But her face and belly were forced into the soft expanse of the bed, the mattress dipping gently, soft fabric coddling her as she tried to move. The softness actually made it harder to gain momentum: her movements slowed, getting caught in some of the plush. "You'll h-hurt me!" Persephone sobbed, though the noises and sounds came out muffled, feeling those lips upon her neck, eager, slick. Her hands shot from out underneath her, clawing at the top of the mattress, trying to pull herself out. He was so heavy on her little back, his wandering hands bringing goose bumps to rise on her skin.
The girl flailed beneath him, raising her head so slightly, screaming out. She couldn't see anymore – she was so blinded by tears. Her words were starting to become nonsensical. The same of 'no' and 'please' and the call of his name, her throat aching. Feeling her dress hitched upward, the coldness crawling over her skin, Persephone's thighs instinctually clenched. "H-Hades… H-H-Hades! You'll… you'll kill what makes… what makes me, me!" Persephone managed to sputter. "Mercy… mercy on me!"
She was tugged up against his chest, her body like goop, sagging against him. The dress was completely gone from her body, torn from her, breasts bouncing with the movement. They suddenly weren't interesting to her – she only wanted to cover them from Hades' greedy eyes. "I don't… want to hurt… I don't, I don't! I promise… I won't… I won't say anything… if you let me go! P-please! My Mama – I have to go back to her, I have to go!" She didn't belong to her mother anymore though. Persephone was trying anything and everything, as a great hand palmed at her left plush bosom. Yet, even as her pink nipple hardened under ministrations, the sweet child could not bring herself to spit curses at her Lord. No. For some reason, she still believed he wouldn't actually go through with this. He would stop right when he needed to. But as Hades flipped the little thing to lie on her back, her shoulders pinned to the sheets, the Goddess brought her arms up to claw into his white skin, tossing her head back and forth, trying to force her legs closed. The nails did manage to dig in, but only barely. Persephone had been a nail-biter. She had such short nails. Something she hated herself for in the moment.
Stilling her head for a moment, Persephone realized Hades had paused momentarily. She gazed up, a sparkle of hope touching her irises… but it was lost as soon as she saw his face. He was mapping her out. His gaze was so… hot upon her skin. It completely expelled the cool air from the room – it made the child flush, her cheeks pinking prettily, her neck and hips following suit. She wept harder at it, closing her eyes tightly. "H-how dare you?!" She whimpered. "Please d-don't look… don't look!" Once his hand left her shoulder, though, Persephone acted, eyes snapping open, even while everything still remained blurry. She went to whack the dark God upside his head, tugging sharply at his hair. The girl stopped though, feeling her knee spread under his grip, and the free hand went to grasp the arm that forced her legs apart in their peaceful union. She should have known that would do even less good then tugging his hair had.
"It is not y-your right! This is not for you!" Persephone squawked. "It i…is for no one!" Her other hand followed the first once it was freed, really being silly in battling the strength of Hades as she tried to pry him from her, and close her legs. Persephone could see how absolutely useless her efforts had been as she was repined to the mattress, the God already in between her legs. And then… that feeling. A deep knot set in her stomach the moment his hand palmed at the girl's heart. Persephone gasped. Their fighting, her struggling, had made her hyper-sensitive to him. Eyes widened, she stilled for just a moment, lips still trembling. That little nub in between her legs was already starting to swell with desire. Her thighs quivered, inner walls already clenching at the nail that just so barely breached her. She opened her mouth, unsure for a moment what she would say, before feeling the finger thrust into her womanhood half-way sheathing itself.
Persephone chocked. It made her ache. The last time Hades had done so, he had not gone quite so far. It stretched a bit. "Ah…" She whimpered, shivering. The moisture in her eyes was starting to burn, and a bit of liquid spilled from her nose. She struggled with her arm, her shoulder barely grazing her face to wipe her humiliation from it.
In and out, in and out. The wetness was coming again, spilling and slickening her entrance. Persephone was once again a moving party, though her efforts compared to before, one could say were… half-hearted. A pressure had begun to lightly flutter in her belly, pulling the knot down, her mouth dry. The moment ended as quickly as it had started though, before her undergarment was ripped from her, leaving Persephone as naked as the day she had been born. Every inch of her was viewable, and she felt that foreboding sense, that fear race through her. When Hades pulled her up, hand splayed upon her rear, aligning that large… that… penis to her entrance, Persephone shivered as if someone had it her with cold water, her legs immediately tightening, though there was no were to go and no way to force out what was about to enter. Although her hands were now free, they remained wrapped tightly around the God's neck where she had be placed. She didn't move as he bit her lip. Suddenly, struggling seemed foolish in the girl's simple mind. Perhaps Persephone should have handled Hades like her Mama told her to handle bears. Play dead and hope they would pass you over.
I take all of you as my queen and bride.
The slow shaking of her head. Back and forth.
Fight me, you only cause yourself pain
More adamant.
He couldn't do it. He wouldn't be able to. It wouldn't come to this. It couldn't come to this. And then, the thrust, his mouth upon her, forcing her own open, her body stretching further and further. A sharp scream left her, the likes of which even her protests hadn't reached, her very nostrils flaring. It rang clear in Hades' mouth, traveling down to echo throughout his body. Persephone came to life in the worst way. Her hands flailed upward, and she shoved against Hades' chest with all her might, her hysteria completely unintelligible. It suddenly didn't matter how losing her virginity would affect her in the long run. Persephone could only focus on pain of her hymen ripping, blood spurting and dribbling down his length, the girl's very toes curling. Every move the child made though only further pulled her down onto the base of her now official husband, but she couldn't help it. All she knew was something huge was trying to rip her apart. And the beast inside her wanted to be free of that.
She wailed, absolutely wailed, as she had subconsciously seated herself to sheath Hades entirely, her core so tight around his thick length. They stayed like this, or at least Hades stayed like this, perfectly still, for a good long while. Her muscles, though her panicking did not help, adjusted very lightly to what was inside of her. Persephone eventually found herself able to rationalize, her heart tremoring the thumping loud in her ears. Finally, without breathe for more shrieks, her head forced its way from Hades' lips, only to rest her forehead to his shoulder, shaking heavily. The little Goddess heaved in great gasps of air, her palms pressed flat now against him.
"Oh… oh…" She panted. "Oh Gods… oh Gods…" The situation once more was clear to her. There was nothing to be done now. She was paralyzed, the pain shooting every time she so much as breathed too heavily. She could taste her own tears as they pooled in the crook of his neck and shoulder, fingers shaking. And when the first tilt of hips was pressed into her, she shook. "You're… h-hurting… me… why?" She sobbed, though her voice could reach no more than a whisper. "How... h-how... can you say... you love me, when you... do t-this? What… h-have I done… for t-this… please… s-stop… and let it...be over… let it be over..." Persephone's arms wrapped once more around Hades' neck, clutching him tightly to ease some of the pressure from herself.
Hades
A shudder spread through his body, a cry of his own from his lips, but softer and huskier. It was everything, her tiny body sliding onto him and with each movement pressing herself farther down. Surely, this was the best position. His mind clouded as hers did, but not for the same reason. She thrashed, in total hysterics as she shoved against him. But even with all her strength she could not budge him. They were bound together, without so much effort on his part she pressed down fully onto him. Her walls constricted then stretched, rippling along his length as it was forced deep inside of her, filling her to the maximum. He gripped her tighter, pressing her all the way down until she could go no further. And yet she was so tight about him though her hands pressed to his bare chest. Her legs about his waist, his own crossed beneath her.
And then, he went still, not going to continue - as of yet. Her body shivered, trying to take in what had happened to her. It was kinder to be quick, then to try and do it gently. But she deserved more, his comfort, his gentle hand, not one that forced her to the point of wailing hysterics. Her mouth was gone from his for he allowed it, her head instead curled at the crook of his neck. His head turned towards her, resting against it without closing his eyes. For a moment he allowed her to remain still, to at least become aware and her mind to clear. That was when she began to speak to him, clutching to him. Before it was so violent, now she wilted against him. Her tears pooled at the crook of his neck, sliding down in a single, soft stream over the curve of his breast. He had no need to support her, now that he was fully within her. But, when she began to speak, he shook his head, feeling her words dancing over his skin, her lips ghosting his flesh to cause him a faint shiver. But, the god of the underworld was merciful, now. His fingers, for a moment, caressed her flesh, brushing down her spine before his legs beneath him shifted. He dropped her on her back, their bodies still joined together though they had somewhat parted. His back was straighter, though he was no in an upright-position. Rather, his hand brushed her hair from her face and he moved his arms beneath hers to support her.
"No," he said, his nose so close to hers they could almost touch. "No, you silly child. It hurts you, because you refuse me. Your love I wanted and I can only have it if I take it. You refused me, I wished to court you, but rather you denied me in your words of maidenhood! You... are like your mother so much." His voice grew thick and his hands clenched some at her back. "My heart's desire means nothing but what you want. Once, once in my life I will be selfish over what I want more than anything." A hypocrite, that was what he was. And for a brief moment, he opened his heart to her before he suddenly dropped her, his head at her shoulder. But he did not kiss it, did not touch it, rather his forehead rested there, his hands at her sides, palms on the bed. With that, Hades could truly go no further. He took her virginity, but he could not bring himself to actually sleep with her. What possible pleasure could he get when his love sobbed in his arms, in such terrible pain with himself sheathed within her? His lips grazed her flesh now, hands sliding down to support her hips. His hands slid up her thighs before he pulled out and pulled away.
Hades grabbed a towel from the side of his bed, wiping himself clean from her blood. It was not the only towel there. His back was to her, his shoulders tense. "Do you hate me, Persephone?" he asked suddenly. He turned towards her, his face twisted in what could very well have been anger. "What do you feel for me?" His hands spread before him lifting in a gesture that could have been pleading or even reaching but refraining. "Do you love me, Persephone? Will you ignore everything and love me no matter what?" He was teetering, a sudden outburst of uncharacteristic anger - at himself, not at her. He could become dangerous, or he would leave her and lock her in that room. Her answer may or may not determine that, but that rage in his breast grew from seeing her in front of him, broken and crying for answers.
Persephone
Persephone was chocking on herself, her face leaking every which way from the pain. And as Hades lay her down, another sharp pain shot through her. Her body was rejecting him. No matter how badly her body was tied to Hades, and how badly it had wanted to be claimed, the mind was a powerful thing, even for a very simple girl. It was so engrained that this act of sex was evil that her core remained tight, her thighs clenched, and there was nothing fluid about her: not in the hunch of her shoulders down to the rigid motion of her toes. As the God finally pulled from her, Persephone cried out once more as her body released him with a wet 'pop' leaving a resounding ache and gaping soreness in its heed. She assumed the act was complete (when it had really been far from it). She panted into the covers, her hand immediately trailing down to trace the outline of her abused center.
Though when Hades spoke, his words… they brought a horrible anger to swell in his breast. So much so that she stopped her ministrations. Persephone felt her teeth clench, her next cry on the verge of a bark, her sadness combining with this sense of betrayal to make fury within her bubble. The child sneered, her tears getting caught in her couldn't even find herself afraid as he demanded answers of her. As he asked of her love, of her hate, to forget. She merely shook in the bed, coming easily as she was tugged up, her eyes meeting him. A wince though furrowed in her brow at the moment.
"Y-you…" She whispered, closing her eyes, another batch of tears rolling down to meet the others pooled at her chin. "You… dare… ask me my love?! Or my hatred?!" She took her other hand, breathing heavily into it, shaking out another few whimpers. "My… only thoughts on you…" Persephone snapped, her lips trembling. "Are that… you are a terrible… terrible… bully to me!" She turned her head from him, her throat working to swallow all the excess fluids she was producing. "You think… I should feel… guilty?!" Persephone shook the wrist Hades currently grasped, trying to prove her point. "For not… for not wanting to disobey my own mother?! For wanting… her… love, which you stole! For how…" Persephone shut her eyes tightly. "How could she love me now?" The words were softer than the rest, and Persephone found she couldn't dwell on the thought too long without it ripping holes in her heart. Instead she allowed the fire in her belly to further ignite.
"Because you are older… and stronger… and bigger than I… you get to do these things to me?! Is that… is that fair, husband?!" Her voice was trying to rise, but it was so overused, she only sounded higher pitched as she uttered the word like a curse. "You get… t-to make… t-to make me helpless and afraid! To grab something… that I never ever intended to give…" Persephone broke off, weeping into her hand. She did not know his past, but had wanted to befriend Hades with an open heart and an bright smile anyway. Now, her reward was this life. A life she did not choose. And still, he tried to guilt her, and yell at her, and force her to declare her feelings for him? And oh yes, Persephone wanted to scream her hatred of him, to stab his heart a million times over and throw a tantrum… but she didn't. Couldn't. Because that would be a horrid lie. And for once wise… Persephone knew his heartache would not make her feel the slightest bit better. Still, there was an immaturity in her. A stubbornness. And mixed with this fury, she wanted to infuriate him.
"I will… not…" Persephone enunciated each words. "Answer you!" She tried to snap her arm back from his grip. "I just want you to go away!" Her voice was so harsh, Persephone shocked herself, her little mouth parting, teary eyes staring up at him. Her voice lowered, till it was nothing but a quiet whimper, and she stared down into her lap, teeth gritted. "I just want you to g-go away..." She repeated hanging her head.
Hades
Hades tensed, releasing her as she struggled against his grip. His face went dark, all emotion disappearing there. Everything she said was true, that was what made her words daggers. He hadn't meant to make her guilty, though she accused him of that. He didn't disagree with anything she said, instead taking it all in with his face set, unmoving. But, she used his title as her husband as an insult, throwing it in his face as if she had spat at him. He closed his eyes and turned his head away, fists clenched tightly. They opened a fraction at her question. Rhetorical, not meant to be answered. Thus, he lifted his hand some as she screamed at him to go away. His eyes focused on her face, unwavering. It was not an offensive stance nor did he look in any desire to touch her with that raised hand. Instead, it seemed to be one of warding, as if stopping something she would throw at him. He lowered it, a frown at last appearing on his lips.
"So be it," he said, his voice hard and even thick. He took a step towards her then thought better of it. His picked up his clothing and once more garbed himself in its soft folds. Now he looked far more like what he had been like when he first met her. His back turned towards her, hiding the pain on his face. The weight of what he had done was very heavy on his shoulders. But he could change none of it. The words of Aphrodite rang over and over again in his head like a mantra... he had time, time to heal those wounds, to get her to love him. He would see her smile again, that trusting, loving smile he craved. He adjusted the fabric then moved forward.
"If anything," he said in a low voice, "I am not a liar." He opened the door and closed it behind him, locking it.
May just be me, but this makes me sad no matter how many times I read it. )';
And now the reconciliation comes!
...eventually. Too bad Demeter is going to throw a curveball.
Next! The reunion!
