I liked to devote a few hours to watch Persephone most days. Oh, I followed Aphrodite's advice and stayed away, but I just-I wished that I could take her in my arms and tell her I would give her the world to make her happy. I wished she would look at me with the same admiration that she had when I first knew her, before I had destroyed what little feelings she might have had for me. I had a feeling, and Aphrodite had confirmed, that, maybe, somehow, we could eventually be happy together, and I wished that we were there now. I didn't even know, however, if that day would ever come, so in the meantime, I just watched.
Persephone would be upset if she caught me, I knew, so I would put on my Helm of Darkness and gaze at her to my heart's content.
She was happy. Or, at least, I hoped she was. I suppose that it could have been described as more of a determined not-sadness. She did smile, however, once. She smiled as she pruned the pomegranate tree. It was the only plant in the whole garden that had been doing well before, and now it was flourishing, thanks to Persephone's efforts, even to the point that it began producing fruit.
At first I was worried that I had made the wrong choice in showing her this place. I was afraid that it would make her homesick and try to escape again. I wasn't sure that she would survive if she did. However, I soon realized that my fears were unfounded. It wasn't that she said or acted any different that lead to my realization, it was because she looked different.
The Underworld has a strange effect on people's physical appearance sometimes. I, for instance, had much paler skin than before, unnaturally pale really, I had gotten taller and leaner, my eyes had become much darker, and I suddenly had a remarkably good glare. For Persephone, I had noticed a few things: she had a taller, more stately appearance, not quite so girlish; she was losing her lost, awkward air, her voice had a lower pitch, and, more strikingly, her hair was darkening. It had faded from the shining gold to a rich chestnut. I was fascinated to see if it would get darker, or if anything else would happen.
I suppose that I didn't really explain why I found her physical changes a positive sign. I have observed over the years that the people that change the most are the ones that have started to accept their role in the Underworld. Persephone may be fighting against and refusing to acknowledge it, but she was starting to look at the Underworld as her home. It hopefully wouldn't be too long before the change was complete.
She was also, I noticed one day, wearing the necklace I had given her. Sometimes, as she would pause in her work, she would finger the chain absentmindedly.
I will admit that the pomegranate tree being in the garden was not by accident. I quickly saw that she was not going to eat anything that I or Aspasia offered her. I hoped that she would trust the work of her own hands and perhaps eat some of the fruit. Throughout the days that I watched her, she never did.
Once, however, she did pick up one of the fruits and held it to her nose, breathing in the scent, as if she were imagining how it might taste. My heartbeat quickened for a moment, but she placed it down with a sigh. She had a stronger will than I had thought.
Not strong enough, however. One day, I noticed her swaying on her feet under the pomegranate tree, then she fainted. I immediately threw off my Helm and rushed to her side.