Chapter 37
Crowley assaulted Gilgash with unrestrained rage, fists crashing against his face, bruises blooming beneath them. Gilgash laughed during the battering, a harsh barking laugh that echoed in the office.
"Beat me all you'd like, Hades!" he crowed, "But she sent you away for the arms of Lucifer!" he cackled and smiled as Crowley tore at his face, "You should have seen him, Hades! He was more beautiful than you can imagine! He was young! He was powerful! You should have seen the way she touched his muscles! You should have heard the way she said his name!"
Crowley punched him squarley in the mouth and Gilgash's head snapped back and he was silent for a moment. Crowley thundered at him, "She left Hell! She left with me! She spent thousands of years with me! She abandoned him in his cage! Whatever ploy she devised that required her to seduce him was nothing but scheming!"
Gilgash tipped his head back and laughed a fruity, heartfelt laugh. "Alright, my strong and confident Hades, you see that she had a penchant for recording her life. The journal she left for her father, by the way. Although she knew you would read it, she wrote it for the Winchester patriarch. But this was not her first record. She wrote a diary while she ruled with Lucifer. Meant to keep straight her thoughts, I believe. Do you want it?"
Crowley had stopped hitting him, and was looking down at him with disbelief, "Where is the diary?"
Gilgash smiled sardonically, "Right where she left it, my good king. In the palace, in the drawer of the table that sits beside the bed she shared with Mighty Lucifer."
Crowley marched toward the door and Gilgash laughed at his back, "Dare you enter the old palace, my king? Don't you know it's haunted?"
Crowley turned back to him, Gilgash was looking backwards over his shoulder at him, a messy, bloodied grin on his face. Crowley scoffed, "I'm a demon, do you think I'm afraid of a haunted castle?"
Gilgash's eyes glittered, "What about a millenia old Hellhound, driven mad by solitude?"
"Is it hers? Bones?"
Gilgash nodded, "And he'll eat out your throat."
"He won't touch me. I made him, remember."
Gilgash grinned and responded in a sing song voice, "Are you sure, precious king? How it will be to wander the halls of a grand palace you have never seen looking for a single room while under watch of a blood thirsty hound? Is that how you will find a single, small book?"
Crowley unhooked Gilgash from the floor and dragged him up, "You will bring me the book."
Gilgash rolled his eyes, "A novel idea, oh King of Kings, how ever did you come up with it?"
Crowley led Gilgash out the door and into Hell.
XXXXX
The old palace loomed, partly sunken into the rock. Fire scars lashed about it's perimeter and old dead vines encircled its turrets. Crowley pushed Gilgash in front of him, whose arms were still tied down.
Gilgash flicked the hair from his face and laughed over his shoulder, "Still the brave warrior king you once were I see." Crowley flicked his wrist and the broken gated door crumbled off its hinges, exposing a long dark passagway.
Gilgash entered brazenly, without fear, his boots treading up the familiar hall. He whistled joivially, and looked back out at Crowley, "Well, sweet prince, you're going to have to either untie me, so I can collect the book myself, or come with. Don't be scared, I don't bite."
Crowley steadied himself for a moment and followed after Gilgash, making sure to stay behind him. The palace smelled dank and rancid, the silence within it echoed against Crowley's ears. He shivered. He tried to remember that this was his palace. That he had, or would, reign here, that he reigned over Hell now. But it did not feel like his.
He was aware the Gilgash could lead him around here for hours, he seemed perfectly content, regardless of the bindings on his wrists and around his arms.
Gilgash turned a corner and led them through a narrow hallway that spiraled upwards, windows broken on their right side, doors evenly spaced on their left. Gilgash stopped and turned to look at him, "This is as far as I go all tied up like this."
Crowley sneered, "You'll do as you're told."
Gilgash raised a dark eyebrow, "Historically that hasn't been true."
"Get moving."
Gilgash leaned against a wall and yawned, "Nah."
Crowley's nerves were frayed being in this obscene stillness so he relented, wanting to leave. He clicked his fingers and the bindings dropped from Gilgash. Gilgash massaged his thin wrists and grinned, perking back up, "Onward and upward, Lord of Lords."
He led them in a continued upward path until they reached a door right at the end of the hall that looked to open into a smaller tower. The walls around them were unadorned, and Crowley had noticed, each of the doors had a small engraving upon it. Gilgash touched the handle of the door with reverence. He jostled it and, finding it resisitent, slammed his shoulder against it to pry it open.
The heavy door swung inward revealling a smallish, round room that was indeed the top floor of a tower. An unadorned double bed was pushed against the back wall, a low chest at its foot. Other than that, nothing else decorated the room but a thin window cut from the stone.
"This is the room she shared with Lucifer?"
Gilgash kicked open the chest and rifled inside, "Oh, Gods in Olympus, no. This is my room."
Crowley gritted his teeth, "I don't give a blazing hell about your room. Take. me. to. her. BOOK!"
Gilgash drew something out of the chest and tucked it into a pocket.
Crowley lashed out with his hand and Gilgash flew across the room, smashing into a stone wall with an ominous rumble. He struggled against Crowley's hold but could not break free.
Crowley walked forward without hurry and plucked the snatched treasure form Gilgash's pocket. "You can have this back, little Captain," Crowley crooned, "When the diary is in my hands." He looked at the memento in his fingers, a thin lock of brilliantly red hair, tied with a very old cord. He flicked up an eyebrow, "The pretty little angel, hm?"
Gilgash's face was, for the first time, twisted in real fury, "Give that back to me, HADES!"
Crowley let him drop and he looked moments from rushing the demon king, Crowley turned his back on him, "If you make a single move against me, I'll set it on fire. Lead on."
His shoulders rigid, Gilgash stalked passed Crowley, his vessel's tiny frame glowering up at Crowley as he led the way back down the curling hallway. They retraced their steps to the main hall, where the reak of mildew was the greatest and Gilgash went instead up a cavernously wide hall whose marble floors were cracked, more dead vines and wrinkled flowers creeping up from the creveces.
Gilgash picked his way along with Crowley on his tail. They had neither seen nor heard the fabled hell hound, for which Crowley, no matter his bravado, was grateful. At long last they reached a double wooden door. The door was carved intricately, with gold still inset. Tendrils of engraved vines were worked around its frame, golden flowers blooming out of them. In the center of the door, split evenly between its two sides was a burst of golden light.
Gilgash looked like he was about to knock, then pushed it open. The center of the room was dominated by a large bed with four posts that may have once been white stretching near the ceiling. Wound around the posts and canopying across the bed were the same dead vines and wilted flowers that were everywhere.
A tray of what once might have been breakfast still lay on a bedside table and the sheets were rumpled. Crowley felt as though he were intruding on something intimate. A cream colored gown bedecked in shimmering gemstones, embroidered with golden designs lay across a crumpling ottoman, covered in dust. Next to the bed the remains of what seemed to be lace pajamas were carelessly abandoned, the clasps broken.
A drawer was still open in their wardrobe, revealing an array of sensible pants. Two armor stands stood empty.
Gilgash crossed to the table nearest the pajamas and pulled open the drawer of the nightstand. He reached inside and withdrew a slim diary. He looked up at Crowley and gave him a cruel and victorious smile.
"You shouldn't have come here, Hades." He said softly, his fingers touching the worst of the cuts Crowley had inflicted. Gilgash let out a long whistle, "Come out, Bones, you're up."
A thunderous smashing cracked through the air and an enourmous, armored hell hound, bigger than those Crowley commanded by half, leapt through the broken doorway, muzzle pointed straigt at Crowley's throat.
Crowley leapt back and clicked his fingers, but nothing happened. Gilgash laughed, leaning against the wall. The hound bore down on Crowley, knocking him to the ground on his back. Bones' claws dug into Crowley's wrists, his long teeth bared against Crowley's throat, dripping hot flecks of drool over his elegant suit.
Gilgash stooped and took a clean length of rope from under the bed, he leaned down, patting Bones on his meaty, armored shoulders, "Good boy, Bonesy."
He crouched by Crowley and looped the rope around Crowley's wrist, twisting it around the other and pulling them tight together. He glanced up, the ceiling had fallen away in part of the bedroom, leaving a rafter exposed. Smiling and whistling happily, Gilgash tossed an end of the rope over the rafter and pulled heaved Crowley up, Bones backing off to accomodate.
Gilgash let Bones grip the rope in his teeth and said, "Pull him up, sweetheart." Bones did as he was asked, dragging the rope until Crowley dangled from the floor. Gilgash tied the rope off on the base of the bed, letting Crowley hand suspended by his wrists.
Bones wagged his tail at Gilgash and gave Crowley growls at intervals. Gilgash smiled warmly at Crowley, "A little tied up, my lord?"
Crowley was livid, "Release me."
Gilgash drew a small knife from the bedside table, "Of course, King of Deals, Lord of the Crossroads, Master of the Silver Tongue, because you asked so nicely."
Gilgash sauntered to him and cut a long stripe up his cheek. He dipped his hand into Crowley's pocket and withdrew the lock of hair, he looked at it and tucked it safely into a deep pocket of his own. "And to think," he said, flicking the knife across Crowley's face, cutting horizontally over the bridge of his nose, "I nearly let you go."
Crowley spat at him, "You'll never know how she fared against Castiel."
Gilgash laughed, and empty laugh, "I know she's dead, little Crow." He lashed out again, cutting deep into Crowley's arm. He twisted the knife and sneered into his face, "Do you think I wasn't told?! Did you think she did not tell me?! Do you not think all of this was as it was planned?!" He was breathing hard, his thin chest heaving.
Crowley gritted his teeth, "And she would have wanted this? You said it yourself, she loved me."
Gilgash let out a sobbing laugh, "She is dead. My lady is fallen. The Light in the Dark has gone out. The Savior of the Dead has slipped away. She left me with orders, of course. And I would die before I neglected them. But she did not order me to let you live. And I do not plan to."
Crowley pulled at his bonds, "I can restore your position, Gilgash, you could command the legions of Hell."
Gilgash screamed a horrific imitation of a laugh, "I would rather be torn apart by wolves, Hades, than command anything under you." he waved the knife in Crowley's face.
Crowley smirked maliciously, "Did you love her, Gil?"
Gil sliced up Crowley's abdomen, the fabric of his jacket parting and blossoming with blood. "Love her?" he asked, his horrible laugh continuing, "Of course I loved her." he slashed again at Crowley, "She was my Goddess! I worshiped her!" he calmed minutely, "But what you're asking, Crowls, no, she was blood of my blood, flesh of my flesh."
"Then what is your grudge with me?"
Gilgash leveled the blade to Crowley'st throat, "You." he crooned, "You let them in. She was happy, she was whole and you let them in and let your kingdom be set ablaze! And what did you do with her once you had stolen her back?" he launched himself at Crowley, assailing him with blows, "You let those Hellions rip her apart! You hid in the shadows and struck from behind and she was ruined!"
Gilgash's eyes blazed, but he retreated. He sat on the ground, leaning against Bones. He opened the diary. "She really did write this, you know. I'm going to read it to you?"
"Oh for hell's sake, why?"
Gilgash looked up nonchalantly, "So you know what you did when I murder you."
"That is a little cliche, don't you think, Gilly?"
Gilgash smiled at him and said softly, "She begged me to let her die, Hades. And you'll beg too."
Gilgash looked down at the diary and touched the ink reverently, "Listen close, Hades, this is the last story you will ever hear."
XXXXX
From the Diary of Persephone
The night of the battle, I lay in this new bed, with the new King of Hell. I had not expected to like him so much. It had been a tactic, asking him to take the crown. I had been prepared to do as I must to protect my people. But while I lay atop his muscluar form I felt so small and feminine. His arms were secured on me and his wings wrapped around us.
"Persephone," he said in a tender voice. He spent time enunciating each of the syllables, as though it were a treat to say each of them. Wrapped up in him, saying my name so sweetly, his scent so engulfing, it was difficult to remember that he was to be the father of demons. I could hear his heartbeat slowing beneath his ribs and I pressed my lips against the soft skin beneath me.
He ran his hands, the only coarse part of his skin, over my arms and back, touching lightly every piece of me that he could reach. I kissed my hair again and inhaled, smelling my skin, "Sephone, I should have fallen centuries ago."
I recognized that I ought to feel some measure of guilt, not only for sleeping with Lucifer, but for so thoroughly enjoying myself. I only felt warm and young. The crushing weight of my duty seemed lifted from my shoulders and it was easy to neglect to think about the world outside of his dark wings. I wanted to remain there for the next millenium, listening to his whisper in his voice that rang like harp strings, sweet sweet things. To hear him linger over my name and touch me with the reverence one might show a Goddess.
"Sephone," he murmured into my hair, "You are the peak of creation. Your flesh is embowed with the softness of the flowers that bloom at your touch. Your hair woven from the finest silks." He breathed my scent in again and ran his fingers up my spine. His adulations fell from his mouth with barely a pause, as though he could not restrain himself. "Sephone," he said again, and I was beginning to like the shortened form of my newest name. "Sephone, your scent is the Spring itself. Even your flowers cannot stand to be apart from you. Look."
He parted his wings and I looked up. My golden flowers had crept up the posts of the bed and spread themselves above us in a canopy, the golden blossoms hanging heavily down, like the ripest fruit. He lifted his hand, curled his fingers slowly and released them in a flick, as though ridding them of water. White drops of light whisped from his fingers and landed amongst the petals, making them glimmer and sparkle, like gold in the sun.
They glittered above us and his wings beat lightly. His arms wrapped around me and his melodious voice did not relent in his litany. I laid my head against his chest, my fingers trailing into the valleys of his muscles.
I had ruled Hell for many years, I had worn a crown and answered to 'Queen.' But for the first time I felt as though I was a Goddess. And I felt as though I lay atop a God.
XXXXX
From the Diary of Persephone
Today, the day after my night with Lucifer, was so much harder. I dressed myself in black and moved through the destroyed field and grounds of my home. It stank of blood. My people wept. Their loved ones had been snatched from the field to the unknown tortures of the angels. I had promised them sanctuary.
Achilles was beyond consolation, he wept, beating his hands on the walls. I approached him as no one else dared and put my hand upon his shoulder, "Achilles?" I asked, gently, "What can I do?"
He threw himself into my arms, sobs wracking his entire body, "Nothing. Nothing. Bring him back."
I wrapped my arms around him, "I can't, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
He tore himself from my embrace and struck the wall again. He looke at me, his eyes red rimmed, hair torn, "I would rather-" he sobbed, "-be a slave by his side than a king without him." I left him after that, to beat his hands bloody on the wall. I was afraid I had collected another ghost to haunt me.
On my way back to the palace, I saw Lucifer. He too had clad himself in black, silk pants tucked into high boots, a well fitted shirt tugged in snuggly. His crown creased his blonde hair. He was directing angels in the clean up of bodies. Arranging them for their funerals. Their second funerals for many of them. A blow seemed to bear me down and Achilles sobs echoed in my mind. I forced myself to stay upright and tried to push the darkness the the peripheries of my vision.
Someone put a steadying hand on my shoulder. I looked up and saw my indominatable Gil, brow furrowed at me. I straightened. He nodded his head in Lucifer's direction, "Enjoy yourself last night?"
"That's a pretty impudent way to talk to your Queen."
He raised his eyebrow, waiting for an answer, he fingers lingering near his sword.
I looked for a few seconds at Lucifer, "Yes."
Gilgash dropped his hand from his blade, "Did you really? I thought it was some sort of ruse, using yourself to gain us a powerful ally."
I ran my hand through my hair, "It was supposed to be, Gil, but he was -" my voice trailed off.
Gil clapped a hand on my back, "Good, my Lady. That's good."
Lucifer had caught sight of me and a smile cut across his face, his shoulders perking up. He gave a final order to a red haired angel and came our way. He straightened his feathers as he approached, Gilgash smirked.
"Persephone," he beamed, then, glancing at Gilgash's serious face, he removed his smile, "A solemn business."
I nodded, but his boyish grin had been infectious and I smiled sort of sheepishly at him and looked at the ground. My heart fluttered when he looked at me, I tried to quash it. I wasn't a silly school girl. I was a queen.
Lucifer was addressing Gilgash, "You are her High Captain, yes?"
Gilgash bowed, "Yes, and you the new King."
Lucifer looked pleased as Gilgash straightened, "I would like to introduce you to my second in command," he looked over his shoulder and stared directly at the red headed angel from before. She put down the body she had been carrying and came over to us. Her wing was extensively bandaged and there was a scabbed cut over her lip.
She nodded at Lucifer as she approached and gave me an appraising look, "Gilgash, this is-"
Gilgash cut him off, looking piercingly at the angel, his lips turned up in a smile, "Anna."
I addressed Anna, "This is Captain Gilgash, you two will be working closely together. You should become aquianted."
Gilgash tired to fight off his smile, "As you wish, my lady."
XXXXX
From the Diary of Persephone
It took us three days, but we cleaned the blood from the ground and laid our fallen companions to rest. We had not thought it fitting to have any sort of formal announcement while the ground still stunk of carion, but as the flowers once more began to bloom, I had arranged for an audience outside the highest balcony.
Lucifer emerged from the dressing room, where he had been assisted by my finest handmaidens. He was radiant. He wore his breastplate over fine linens and a long, golden cape. A slender sword fitted to his hip. His hair was tied back in complicated braids. He shone.
I matched him in a long slim dress synched at one shoulder with a clasp forged as the metal version of my flowers. My hair was woven with plucked flowers and tied into braids that were all wound together.
When he saw me he smiled, "You look as though the stars have falled from the sky and coaleced into a Queen."
My cheeks colored, "You look okay too. You ready?"
That predatory smile crept back into his lips, "To become the King of Hell? I was born ready."
I tucked a piece of hair back into his braids and nodded appraisingly at him, "You most certainly were."
He stooped suddenly and kissed me, his fingers clutching my face. I pulled him toward me and returned his kiss, tasting him hungrilly.
After a few moments he pushed me back by the hips, "We should go." He straightened a lock of my hair and continued, "If I don't step away from you now, soon we shall not be fit for public appearance."
His eyes bored softly into mine and I could hardly resist kissing him again. He whined, picking me up and spinning me around to press me against a wall. He had my caged in with has much larger frame and leaned away from me again.
"Are you asking me to miss my corronation?"
I pressed my lips gently to his and ran my fingers down his freshly cleaned wings. He kissed down the column of my neck, I whispered in his ear, "And if I were to ask?"
"For you?" he said, scraping his teeth against the tender spot behind my ear, "Anything."
I pushed him backward by the shoulder and he smiled down at me with slow hunger.
"We have a corronation to attend."
"We do indeed"
I slipped beneath his arm and went out the balcony. I raised my hand and the dull roar of the multitude before me quited.
Hell amplified my voice and it rang down across my people, "Denizens of Hell." I called out, "My most loyal people. I know that you were at the battle and all of you have seen its aftermath. I am sorry for each of your losses. You must know how deeply it pains me to see any of you suffer." A deep silence rang through them, "I also know you have been working magnificently with your new allies, the angels who came with the commander Lucifer. It is for this reason that I have called you together. I would have your approval to honor him as my companion. The King of Hell."
There were angels amongst them who had betrayed their people at his request, and all of my spirits had seen him tirelessly work the last week to honor the dead and bolster defenses. This was another reason I had thought to wait. It was important to me that they be asked to welcome him. And important that they approve. That had always been Crowley's problem, he thought if you could frighten effectively enough, you could strap on a crown.
Lucifer emerged onto the balcony and the crowd erupted in unified cheering. He faced me and bent so I could reach his head and I put the crown snuggly upon it. He straightened and looked out at the crown. He held his chin high, the light glinting from his breastplate. He flexed his wings impressively and he cut quite the figure. I looked backward quickly, over my shoulder where Gilgash waited with crossed arms.
He caught my eye and nearly smiled, then nodded once. I turned back to the crowd, reassured.
I fled inside when we were finished. Public appearances were so hard. There was no singular face to focus on and sometimes the darkness crept up and thrummed against my already flayed nerves. It had been bad recently. With death stinking in every corner of my home.
Gilgash, seeing me struggling, took me by the elbow, leading me assertively passed the tittering handmaidens and into my room. My room. The sancuary.
"Should I stay?" he asked, unsure.
"No." I stammered, "No, go." the darkness was choking me and my ears were ringing from Ethan's shreiking. I wanted to succumb. It was so hard to fight and I had been fighting for days. My father's growling added to Ethan's and he pummelled me to the ground.
I barely heard the door open. My hand were over my ears and I was on the floor. Someone lifted me and I looked up into the painfully bright face of Lucifer. I scrambled to force myself together.
Terror was etched into his face, "Sephone?" he asked in a high voice, "What's wrong. Are you alright?"
My head fell forward onto his chest and I fought to push my ghosts back.
He put his hands on either side of my head and turned my head until I looked up into his eyes. My hands were on his hips, supporting myself. His eyes glowed and I could not look away. It felt like he was looking into me, through my skin and meat and bones.
"Who did this to you?" He asked, true horror born in his voice, "Your soul. It's...tattered."
"Yeah, I know." I said, I was just so tired.
He rested a hand against my cheek, "Don't worry, Persephone. I will make it stop."
"Noble gesture, real-" I started.
But he opened the front of my dress to exposs my chest over my heart and drew a small knife, cutting open the flesh of his hand.
"What are you doing?" I asked, John and Mary's screams rattling in my ears.
"Taking care of you."
He wetted his fingers on his own blood and drew a complex sigil across my skin. He drew the final line and it glowed blindingly white and sunk into my flesh.
Ice etched through my veins and I screamed, my knees collapsing. Lucifer caught me in his strong arms and pulled me against him. I could only scream. The itching pain of freezing lanced through me. Not my flesh which only shivered, it was so much deeper, untouchably deeper, slicing through parts I had not realized throbbed with pain.
His arms fastened around me and inch by inch the frost relented, leaving tingling behind. When the horrific ice had released me, I could only hear my own breathing mingled with Lucifer's. He still gripped me.
I stepped back, a pain that had cut at me for centuries was relieved. Ethan was not there. My father had vanished. My ghosts, for the first time in memory, not pressing upon me.
I stared at him, he brushed sweaty hair from my forehead, "Feel better?"
I furrowed my brow, his voice was strained, "What did you do?"
"I made you feel better, right?" He struggled.
"Luce?" I asked as he slipped to his knees, "Lucifer!" my voice jumped an octave as I said it, "Lucifer what did you do!"
He staggered back upright and gave me a pained smile, "Your soul was torn, Seph, it must have hurt, so badly."
"Yeah, but what did you do?"
"I can't heal souls, no one can heal souls," he said, gritting his teeth, "I gave you grace, some of mine, to patch the wounds."
"Will you be okay?"
"Yes," he gasped, "Yes, I will be fine. Give me a moment for my grace to.. readjust."
It took him over an hour to be able to hold himself up straight again, and still he gritted his teeth. I stayed on the stone floor with him, touching his face and talking, which seemed to make it better.
Finally, he stood and looked at me, "Do you still hurt?"
"No," I told him truthfully, "You?"
He forced a laugh, "Not so much."
I felt light and invincible. I kissed him and he held me fiercely.
He looked down at me, "In heaven, it is almost as though I cannot properly remember it. I cannot describe to you, I'm, what it is to feel nothing. Nothing for long centuries then anger and spite, I was torn by hatred of Michael, then for years nothing again."
I watched him carefully, he was touching my face lightly, "When I took your offer, I believed that to be all that existed, anger and nothing, my only desire was to rip out Michael's heat. Then you touched me so softly. You did not ask me to serve you, or lead you, or save you. You asked me to stand at your side and fight with you. And then you kissed me. Persephone you lit the world on fire around me. There is not a limit to the pain I would bear for you."
My breath was coming so fast I was becoming light headed. My heart fluttered as he bared himself. This did not feel like a game, it did not feel like I was competing to be quickest on my feet or to care the least. My brain saw Crowley taking more and more of my blood while I lay dying in a cave and saw Lucifer, slicing out his grace to patch up my wartorn soul.
I trembled as I looked at him and, unbidden, tears crept from my eyes, leaking down my cheeks.
He jolted, "Are you - Are you hurt? Did I-"
"No," I said, almost laughing as tears continued, "No, no I'm not."
He lifted me and sitting on my bed, settled me in front of him. I reclined on his chest and his balanced his arms on his raised knees on either side of me, his wings circling us. I was suddenly so tired.
I lay my head against him and touched his chest, "Luce," I murmured.
He stroked my hair, "Seph."
AN: ITS HEATIN UP! Lemme know what you thought of all the twists and adventure! (And budding romance!)