Disclaimer: I don't own Escaflowne or Greek myths, but no one cares if I play off those.

Chapter 21

Burnt Offerings become Ashes

The next day, Hades gave her a dress to wear. He said he was taking her back to Olympus to announce their wedding, and she obviously couldn't wear the dress she had worn down to mere rags after their adventure. It was a red dress with a boat neckline and fastened over the shoulders with ruby clips. The dress had two long slits up both sides and tiny lattice work down to her knee. "The colour of the dawn," he had said, but to her it was the colour of sunset.

Her life was over.

She knew it was over when he woke her and showed her into the room with the bathtub in it. The water was hot as she stepped in. He got in with her. Conjuring was apparently one of his gifts because he made everything she needed appear out of nowhere. But it didn't matter what he gave her, she didn't have the will to take care of herself. She turned away from him and stared at the water, because she didn't care if he killed her for bad behaviour now. If only she could die.

She had been violated and woken to discover another hideous truth. Hades did not need her to agree at a wedding ceremony. All he needed was for her to eat a piece of food from the underworld. That was all. After swallowing those six tiny kernels of pomegranate, she was now doomed to spent six months out of every year here … with him.

"Why didn't you make me eat twelve?" she whispered, sliding away from him in the water.

He sighed. "I would not limit your power by forcing you to live here always. You are life and even though you are now married to death, you still need time to do your appointed duties in Olympus. I doubt your mother will withhold your responsibilities any longer. Since you are to be mine – you will be responsible, strong, and completely uncompromising. Besides, I don't want to deprive your father of your company. There are still some things to settle. I believe he will be pleased with this arrangement." He paused, untying his straight white tresses and letting them float in the water. Then he said to her, "Why don't you clean yourself? There are black streaks in your hair still."

"I don't want to. I don't care what I look like."

"I care," he said, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look at him.

His red eyes pierced her and she had this bone-chilling fear that he was going to do something awful to her again.

"You hurt me," she mumbled and tried to turn away.

"Hurt me back," he challenged. "Make me cry the way I made you cry last night."

"I would rather die."

He smirked. "Too bad that isn't an option."

She didn't have the energy to glare at him, but instead slipped from his fingers by dunking herself in the water. She stayed under for minutes, but she couldn't drown. She had played that way when she was a child, but it didn't matter how long she stayed underwater, she always immerged as if she hadn't missed a breath.

When she came up, he took her in his arms and washed her hair and skin like she wasn't his wife, but instead like his pet. It made her uncomfortable to be so close to him, but he seemed intent on getting her ready for their journey. So, he hurried them out of the basin and moved them along in what he saw as the routine of preparing to go to Olympus.

"You must look unfathomably beautiful," he said. "But you must also look changed. You must look strong and womanly. You must come home like you have conquered a beast."

"I haven't conquered you," she choked over her shoulder, as he arranged her hair. It wasn't that he wanted to help her. He did it because she had no idea how to do it herself. "No one would believe it."

He stabbed a pin through the top portion he had knotted off. "They must. Together we now control the life and death of each person on Gaia. That is more than either Zeus or Poseidon can boast. We must display the will to control it fairly. Are you ready?"

She looked into his face and her expression read, "Only if you say I am."

"You need paint," he said after his appraisal. Out of the air he summoned two tiny jars. He painted charcoal around her eyes and made her lips blood-red. "After today, this paint will be famous," he said dryly as he moved away to prepare himself for their departure. "After all, I made it just for you."

It was then that she realized that his clothes were in the other bedroom. She sat in the room for whores. This was where he brought silks for her. This was where he left the paint he had just applied to her face on the table. This was where he had raped her. This was where she belonged, even though a marriage had been forced on her and she was technically his wife. Until she went to his bedroom of her own free will, she would live in this second-rate room. It basically amounted to forever, because that was something she could never do.

Persephone searched the room silently for a mirror. She wanted to see what she looked like now. Finally, she found one. It was a hand mirror with a long gilded handle. When she looked at her face, she was astonished at the transformation. Before this, she had shiny, bouncy curls that glistened in the sunlight. Her nose had been dusted in freckles. Her lips had been the colour of seashells and her eyes were the green of new leaves uncurling in the sun.

Now, she was an entirely different creature. Goddess of the Underworld; she believed it. The freckles were gone and the brightness of her complexion completely diminished to the bone white of a storm-worn sand dollar. Her hair seemed so much longer because her curls were no where near as tight. Not only that, but the pin she thought he was sticking in her hair wasn't a pin at all. It was a peacock feather that had been mostly trimmed except for the eye, which stuck out alone from her knot. The paint around her eyes almost seemed to change their colour. Now they were the green of deep forests and almost appeared black. All together, the virginal look was completely gone from her and in its place was that of a seductress. That was what he meant by a woman who had tamed him. Only someone more terrifying than him could work their magic on him, and it wasn't her. A child like her was only a toy.

***

"Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!" Van hollered. His darling was sobbing like a lost child in the backseat now, and Van hated himself for bringing this upon her. He had no choice and now he couldn't stop it. He turned left and got back on the right side of the road. The front of Dilandau's car smashed into his tail, but he didn't stop. He smoothly corrected his steering and went on.

***

Hades took her back down the river to travel to Olympus. He mentioned something about 'another way', but said simply that the way was sealed for the time being. However, his coachman skills improved when he was trying to preserve appearances – hers. So the ride was not bumpy or bruising.

When they arrived at the gates, they were greeted by two unusual sights. The first was the obvious gathering of an army. Apollo was chasing around, checking weapons on his soldiers and banging shields with other gods. So far, no one noticed Persephone and Hades standing placidly at the gate. Hades insisted they stand unconcerned with what was passing and look as though it did not matter that an army was being raised for the sake of chasing them.

"It is too late now," he said under his breath.

Suddenly, all the soldiers parted for Demeter, she was waving her arms and denouncing them with authority. Raidne and Teles were in strewn helplessly in the clearing. They yelped painfully as Demeter grasped both of them by their hair and pulled them into kneeling positions.

"Let it be known," she called out loudly to the assembly. "For their crime against my daughter, these two nymphs are cursed forevermore. They will never know the joy of true lasting love. Instead, they will feast on the flesh of the men that crash against the shore believing that they have heard angels. These two are not angels, but henceforth they shall be sirens!"

Even as Demeter spoke, the two nymphs began changing. Their teeth became sharp and ferocious, their fingernails grew into claws, and their eyes completely lost the soft loving look they had once possessed.

As Persephone looked down on her two servants who had betrayed her, her mind began to click. Because they had not protected her, she had been hurt – hurt so badly – her chest throbbed even if she only thought of the beginning or ending of it. What her mother did was not enough. They had not even tried to help her escape, but cared only for their own security. In they end; they believed she would care for them.

Persephone felt for Hades' hand. She knew he still clutched his chariot whip. Grasping the end of it between her fingers, he relinquished it. Grabbing a whip was a new experience for her, but she was a goddess with powers of ability no one suspected. She was not the daughter of the god of lightning for nothing, and for once she was angry enough to display it. Against Hades, no fruit could come from any upheaval. He was powerful in ways she had never seen before. But against these treacherous hags, she could at least have the satisfaction.

She marched into the clearing with her red dress billowing behind her and her red hair flying away from her face.

The soldiers saw her and moved aside immediately.

Persephone didn't even look at them. She knew what they were thinking. They had no idea who she was. But her mother – she knew. Persephone couldn't stand to meet her mother's eyes, but she could look at Raidne and Teles and her glower was sharper than a dagger.

She unwound the whip and let it fall to the ground in a lump of snaky coils.

The sirens knew their mistress and prostrated themselves on the ground before her and begged, "Lady, forgive us. We were frightened."

Persephone breathed hard, her chest heaving. "Shut your mouths. You don't know fear. You don't know pain. I've just become acquainted with both of them and I've come to introduce them to you." She cracked the whip perfectly and the soldiers fanned out in waves to avoid the end of it.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hades. His arms were folded across his breastplate. His eyes were flames and she could feel his heart pounding in feverish excitement. This was all he wanted from her first appearance on Olympus and more.

But whatever his reaction, Persephone didn't care. He had nothing to do with this. They had betrayed her in an unforgivable way. They should have helped her run – even if the exercise was pointless.

Then she let in on them. She cracked the whip so hard against the cobblestones that dust flew. On Mount Olympus – dust flew. Someone whistled at the impossibility of it. This was a place of perfect peace. But now the most precious and sensitive goddess of them all drew fresh blood.

Raidne and Teles ran screaming as Persephone's whip came down on both their backs in one stroke. Over and over she whipped them, cutting and breaking their skin everywhere. They ran, trying to push through the gates, but not before the whip twisted around Raidne's throat. Persephone yanked her towards her and slapped her across the face twice. She thought of strangling the siren, but when she saw Teles hesitate at the door, waiting for her sister, she decided against it. Maybe they had learned something – even though it couldn't make up for what they'd done. Her mother had cursed them. That was enough. She hit Raidne again for spite and this time she felt the twinge in her hand. Then she flung the whip free from the siren's neck.

"Get out of here," she shouted. Then she spat on Raidne's face.

Persephone didn't wait for them to leave. Instead, she turned on her heel and tossed Hades' whip over her shoulder. She walked through the wind and dust. The shimmer of her red dress floated through a drabness like the eye of a storm. She walked tall and straight, a woman of extremely high rank, past countless soldiers and turned only to find her father. She turned for no one – not Apollo – though he looked like a man who had just seen Hell. Not her mother – who was trailing after her weakly. Not Hades – who sauntered behind her like he was exhibiting a rare piece of art that he himself had created.

Her father stood by his throne at the far end of his temple. Inside the stone structure, a long corridor led past many gods – not just those who were planning to invade the Underworld to retrieve her, but everyone. She walked past them all, keeping her eyes only on her father.

He did not come down the stairs to greet her, but instead watched her as she proceeded up the path. Perhaps he too did not know her. Then she realized that he was not looking at her at all, but at her husband behind her.

"Hades," he greeted stiffly.

"Zeus, your daughter and I have come to tell you of our elopement and marriage," her husband said lightly.

"You wanted her this badly?" Zeus asked in a low voice. He did not say anything about the kidnapping or of the army that surrounded them.

"Father," Persephone said interrupting them. She wouldn't be left out of decisions or discussions any longer. "I have eaten the food of the Underworld and shall be required to spend six months of every year there. I apologize for my waywardness."

"You have grown too quickly," he observed.

"Kidnap and rape will do that," she said.

The look on her father's face was strange. "Come here, both of you," he said, beckoning them into the chamber behind his throne.

Hades put his hand on Persephone's back as they entered.

She had been in this room many times. She had lounged on the couches when she was a child. It seemed a different place now. It felt as though the familiarity was wasted on her.

Hades turned and closed the door himself to give them privacy.

Persephone did not know what kind of reaction her father would have to this news, and she waited with her hands clenched into fists. Would he be able to free her of this bargain? She prayed there was as she watched him stand, giving Hades a strong look of disapproval.

Finally he spoke, and his words were not at all what she had expected. "To Hell with you," he muttered, looking sharply at Hades. "Brother, this is foul trickery. In the counsel you said that you wanted to make her your bride, but what you have done far exceeds the desires you put up for Demeter to see. Why couldn't you have worked to convince her of your deep love for Persephone rather than hauling her off by her hair and forcing me to prepare for war? Apollo was ready to raze the Underworld for her sake."

Hades snorted. "And I should care what Apollo does? That brat wouldn't know power if it took his head off."

"He's my son!" Zeus raged.

"She's your daughter!" Hades countered. "Mine now. And I didn't say I loved her."

Zeus stopped and looked at Hades like he didn't believe what he was hearing. "You …" he breathed, but didn't continue.

Persephone broke the silence. "Father, please help me. Please reverse the contract. I did not partake of the fruit knowing that it would force me to live in the Underworld."

Zeus shook his head. "There's nothing I can do. I can give you a potion to drink that will make you able to eat the food freely now, but it only works on those who are already forced to live there. So, it won't shorten your time. I apologize, it's the only gift I can give you, daughter." He placed his hand on Persephone's head and peered into her eyes, adding weight to his meaning.

She nodded piteously. She should have known. Hades would have a perfect knowledge of what Zeus could and could not do. He knew there was no saving her if he got her to do such a simple thing.

Zeus walked to the door. Putting his hand on the door knob, he turned and said to Hades, "This was a black thing to do. However, know this, no matter how much you change my daughter – I won't forget her."

Then he was gone and Persephone was left alone with her husband and her future. She didn't cry, though she wanted to. There was no need to make a fool of herself in front of everyone. There would be plenty of time, plenty of dark lonely nights in her future … and she could cry as many of them as she wanted to.

***

Hades arranged everything so quickly it was truly frightening. Persephone had duties assigned to her the six months of the year that she could spend on Olympus with her mother. She would live there for the spring and summer, and then when birth was lowest during the fall and winter, she would return to the Underworld and her mother would carry on without her. The birth seasons had not exactly been organized this way before, but all the gods agreed that it was for the best. Having a time of rest helped everyone.

Once everything was in order she went underground with Hades, kissing her sobbing mother good-bye. Persephone didn't know the depths of her mother's suffering, because Demeter tried her best to keep her sorrow to herself. But some of her feelings were too close to the surface to be concealed. She believed that she had truly been the one to destroy her daughter's happiness. She had been the one to give her Raidne and Teles as servants. She had been the one who chose to raise her child in perfect innocence. And worst of all, she had been the one who refused Hades without questioning him. She could have compromised and won Persephone a better home or a better husband. She would have done it, too, if she hadn't wanted to keep her daughter all to herself. Her pretty child, who she loved endlessly – now draped in red silk shouting commands like a blood soaked necromancer. Demeter hid her face when she could, but Persephone understood more than she admitted. The only way she could comfort her mother was to keep the details of her own unhappiness to herself.

Back in those black rooms, Persephone stayed in the room intended for whores. Days and nights felt almost the same. It didn't matter if the sun was in the sky or the moon, because they couldn't feel the warmth either way. She found other rooms besides the ones he had initially shown her. He had many beasts besides the horses and Cerberus.

There were practically no servants. There was Charon, but he wasn't exactly Hades' servant. His purpose was more for the dead he ferried than for the god, for the god didn't care if the ferryman did his job and ferryman didn't care if the god did his. Charon was paid for his work by the dead by one coin that was put in their mouths when they were buried. A soul who had no money to pay him would wander a hundred years before they found they way. In any case, Hades did not need servants. His animals were immortal beings that did not need grooming or feeding. Also, he was an excellent conjurer and required no one to wait on him as other gods did.

The work of the dead was taxing, but there was no rush to complete it. Hades would lie on his throne like it was a couch with his eyes closed and decide on the fate of a thousand souls in an hour. Demeter had not exaggerated when she said that Hades was perfect in his role. Even his rebellious wife could not deny his talent. When she took over, she would agonize over one soul for hours and in the end decide to send them to the resting room to wait for further judgment. Hours later, Hades would come and empty the resting room. If he found her indecision frustrating, he never mentioned it. It didn't matter how many hours he spent or she spent – there was always more to be done – more souls waiting …

As for her nights with him - they fought. They threw things; broke things. She raged, he beat her, she cried. Against her better judgement, she would look for signs that he was falling in love with her, but his treatment of her never altered. He didn't mind her slow work, but he wanted her to be strong willed, like he was. He was harsh if he found her struggling with her morality. He wanted her to have the will to make mistakes and take responsibility for them. When she failed in it, he hurt her. She could never be happy here. It was impossible.

When she returned to Olympus, Hades dropped her at the gate. She wore a black backless dress and her arms were stained onyx from all the dirty souls she had touched. Hades took her hand and kissed it before he rode his horses on. Looking around she saw at once that she didn't fit in anymore. The gods and demigods glared at her. Her mother was the only one who didn't follow her with her eyes like she was a traitor.

Apollo's reaction to her changed self was the most heartbreaking. He cried in the open – falling to his knees. He tore at his hair and covered his head in ashes because of the passion of his grief.

"Persephone is lost," he cried as she stood still as a statue before him.

She turned to her mother and said, "There's work to do."

Each time she made the revolution – to Olympus – to the Underworld – she became different. Sometimes she was apathetic. Sometimes she let herself say exactly how she felt … but life with Hades was not something she could grow to love. He was not a person she could grow to love. He showed her no mercy and she began to long for death. She wanted out of her body. Her body belonged to him. She wanted out.

It was hundreds of years before she found a way. She was in the throne room judging spirits when the spirit of a young woman approached her. She was holding a bag of gold in her arms that was almost overflowing. A person did not need that much gold to bribe Charon, so Persephone questioned her about it.

"It's for my family. Every one of them was murdered by demons. I couldn't find their bodies, but I wanted to free them from the prison of being wandering spirits, so I brought money for them," the girl said.

"Were you expecting to die?" Persephone asked.

"Yes. I took my own life. I couldn't stand to live any more. I was so frightened. I was the last one alive. These people were … murdering and eating my family. I didn't want to wait for them to come to kill me too, so I …"

Persephone immediately guessed that the people the girl referred to were somehow connected to Raidne and Teles – her old cursed servants. "How did you kill yourself?"

"I drowned, Lady."

"Ah … so your body is complete and unharmed in the water somewhere?"

"Yes, but I don't want another chance at life. I only want to be with my family again. Please help me find them."

Persephone nodded. "I might be able to help you, but you have to give me a few things in return. And," she continued, holding up one finger, "you are going to have to understand that my help won't be immediate. I can cut back on their time and reunite your family, but not instantly."

"What do you want?" the ghost asked desperately.

"I need your permission to borrow your body, and I need you to tell me your mortal name."

"What do you need my body for?" she shivered.

"That's not your concern," Persephone said stiffly. "Do you want my help or not?"

"Stella. You can use my body."

"And I need you to give me that bag of gold coins. I will give the coins to your family when I find them." Persephone's plan was almost perfect. If she borrowed Stella's body, Raidne and Teles would probably be the first to find her and she needed them to help her. Her mind would be completely empty. They owned her. The one flaw was that now she needed a place to hide Stella's spirit. If she put her soul in the resting room, Hades would certainly find her and if he didn't interrogate her, he would send her off to her final resting place and then Persephone wouldn't be able to find her in the end. Finally, she got an idea. She'd put Stella in one of her empty perfume bottles to rest. "Come with me," she said, opening the trap door and bringing the dead soul into the main part of the castle.

She took Stella all the way to the whore's bedroom and took the bag of gold from her.

"Thank you for your kindness," Stella said, before Persephone sealed her in the glass bottle.

"Think nothing of it," Persephone whispered as she went to lie down on the bed. Her head fell on the pillow as she went over the steps of her plan once more.

Astral projection was simple in theory. All a person needed to do was separate their spirit from their body. Humans could do it. The necromancers who worshiped Hades did it all the time. She'd seen it done countless times. She'd do it this time.

Breathe slowly. Breathe evenly. Envision flying. She did everything the necromancers did, but she did them in seconds rather than hours and even though she'd never done it before her spirit flew from her body as though she was a sheet swept in an updraft.

Her body lay beneath her. For many years she had detested looking at herself because of the changes wrought in appearance since she had come to live in the Underworld. Now as she saw her body without her spirit, she realized that it was her spirit that hurt and not her body at all. Her body was the body of a goddess which could not be marred by time or abuse or fatigue, but her spirit was the spirit of a woman that longed for love and happiness. This being the case, she ached as she scooped up the bag of coins and drifted to the door.

She disappeared around the corner and thought of the many years this idea had eluded her. She should have realized ages ago that it was her body that committed the sin by eating the pomegranate and not her spirit. Hades could not trap that and as long as her body remained here – she could go anywhere she wanted.

But there remained one final obstacle and she would not pretend that it was cleared until it was. There was still Charon, the river master, who needed to bear her down the Acharon to Stella's watery grave. Persephone had the fare with her, but she did not know if he would take her. It was impossible to trick him in believing she was someone else. She was never as naked as she was when she passed through the halls of the Underworld out of her flesh.

When she reached the portal, Charon had just arrived with a collection of new souls. He turned his blank face towards her and she approached to pay him the required coin. "Where is your master?" he questioned dully.

"Asleep. Please take me," she asked simply. It was impossible to rouse much emotion. An emotional appeal wouldn't have meant anything to the ferryman anyway.

"Get in," he said, taking the gold from her.

She sat down and he pushed away from the shore. They had never spoken. She did not know if he had feelings or if he pitied her. He never said. The water ran smoothly and the twinkle of lost souls along the cavern walls lit their way.

"Lady," he said in a low voice once the dock was out of sight. "You know this is only temporary."

"I know … but I want it anyway." A few moments passed as they flowed against the current – the unnatural way. "If he asks you what happened. Please tell him that I left a message for him with you. Say, 'Now you can have her whenever you want'."

***

Van swung his head around to check on Hitomi for the millionth time. She had stopped fighting. She no longer shook or cried, but lay perfectly still as if dead. Van spared two fingers on her throat to check her pulse. He hoped he wasn't imagining that it felt strong.

His mind was coming apart in pieces and everything around him was taking a chunk. Keeping his mind on the mad car chase as well as watching over Hitomi as she went through this ordeal was almost too much. Argh! He had to somehow find a way to lose Dilandau. Mercy! He was persistent! Van had a full tank of gas when this started, and he found himself wishing passionately that Dilandau's tank was smaller or that he had started out with less fuel. Van didn't know how else he was going to outrun the maggot if he didn't run out of gas.

Author's Notes: Serious thanks to everyone who reads and reviews. My forum 'Shivering Wings' is available through my profile and my forum is still good for chapter 21. Also, my poll is still up on my profile about Van being hot or not. I like to think Van's always hot, but you know ... I want to know if I play him right. Anyway, I've really appreciated all the support and comments. I'm sorry to announce that this story is being suspended until further notice. It may be weeks before I get back on course or it may be months. I'll talk about this in a little more detail on my forum.