AN: I do not own HadesTown or any of the characters. I just get bored and hate the way things end sometimes.
Persephone stands next to Hermes once again, feeling the earth tremble under her feet as the train gets closer. Her heart pounds painfully in her chest, the only thing keeping her from sinking to her knees is Hermes's arm holding on to her gently. It looks like he's just being an escort, but he always seems to be holding her up. Normally, she was too drunk to stand still on her own. Today, she's just filled with dread.
We'll try again next fall.
The words still ring through her head, as clearly as if Hades was standing right next to her. The words have kept her awake at night, followed her into her fields, and kept her from reaching for the bottle. He didn't speak to her much after their dance, just dutifully pressed a kiss to her cheek after he told her it was time to go back. She had almost refused, asked to stay for just a few more moments to talk, but she held her tongue. Questioning him in public hadn't gotten her very far in recent decades.
"I'm only a whisper away," Hermes murmurs softly as the train blows to signal that it's getting close. It's been so long since he's seen Persephone sober, that it was making him nervous. "At any given moment, no matter where you are."
"I know," Persephone smiles softly, dropping his arm as she steps closer to the edge of the platform. "I've learned how to handle myself down under. Thank you, Hermes. Just... Take care of the boy. I can't check up on him while I'm down below. I doubt my husband will be kind if he arrives in Hadestown anytime soon. That's the closest we've ever been to a full scale rebellion."
"I never leave him alone too long," Hermes nods, eyes filling with the kind of pain one wouldn't expect from a god. "Check up on his songbird while you're down below. Orpheus will like that."
"I'll be sure and do that," Persephone promises, but they both know that'll be up to Hades. After last time, he probably won't ever let her out of his sight again.
The train slows to a stop in front of her, and Persephone holds her head up high, face a mask of perfect calm. Hades has made it very clear what he expects of his queen, and she had made up her mind long ago to exceed every expectation. Even if that meant just sitting still and looking pretty in front of all of the people who used to call her name in adoration, while her husband barked his orders in the harsh voice that she had to grow used to. She grew used to a lot of things. She grew used to pouring her own wine, when the table servant could no longer keep up with her. She had grown used to the empty lovemaking at night, and the awkward silence that would follow. She had grown used to the fact that her marriage has grown cold, and that nothing would ever be able to fix it. He was everything she had ever wanted when they met, now she doesn't know how it feels to have a sober conversation with the man.
Persephone had often found herself dreaming of things going back to the way they once were. When they'd spend entire days in bed, ignoring the duties of running a kingdom. When they'd sit side by side in the throne room, ruling for the good of their people. When they couldn't keep their hands off of one another. When they were able to talk about everything, and speak without words. When he could brush his fingers across her knuckles and she would understand what he couldn't say out loud. She dreamt of the man that held her wrist as she raised the pomegranate seeds to her lips, stopping her from rushing into an eternity with him because he needed to know that she wanted him like he wanted her. She still feels the bruises he left on her hips as the juice dripped down her lips, his fingers digging into her bone as he yanked her against him for the kiss. Aphrodite had promised her that she would remember her first time, though she hadn't believed the goddess because Demeter was hell bent on her remaining a maiden, but she was right. She wasn't able to look Hephaestus in the eyes for a while after Hades had to have him repair the bed he was gifted.
"You're late," Persephone hisses softly to yank herself out of her thoughts as the doors open, picking her suitcase up. She feels a twinge of satisfaction as his eyes flash with anger, immediately feeling guilty for it.
"You're sober," Hades snaps back, reaching out his arm for his wife. "I wanted you to be happy for a few extra moments, lover. We all know how you feel when you're at home, Did you enjoy your time with you mother?"
"I did," Persephone lies easily, taking his hand so he can help her onto the train. It pains her that they are able to lie to one another without a second thought.
"That's good to hear," Hades replies awkwardly, leading her to their compartment.
The ride home normally consisted of Hades looking over plans while Persephone pretend to be sleeping off a hangover. Neither know how to continue this as they take their normals seats across from each other. Persephone hadn't touched a drink since that last drink for Orpheus, and Hades hasn't started planning new buildings since he left. He had built it all for her and she hated it, so he couldn't bring himself to make more.
"How is your mother?" Hades asks politely after a few minutes of awkward silence. He's never been one for long silences, not with her anyway. That's part of what got him into trouble in the first place.
"Suffocating," she sighs, her fingers closing around the flask in her pocket, the one her mother pressed into her hand before she left. One that would never empty. She had tried to return it, but her mother insisted. Said she'd need it eventually. Persephone hated admitting that she was right, the old wench.
"Did she ever get over you killing everything you touched at the beginning of summer?" Hades chuckles, always happy to hear about people making that old hag's day worse.
"So you were listening," Persephone tries to keep her voice neutral as the realization dawns on her, but even she can hear the accusation creeping in to her voice. She wants to not care, she really does, but she spent hours lying by the water of the lake, wanting desperately to reconnect with the man she had loved all of those years ago. When he would send replies in the form of golden flowers for her mother to find later and blow up about. He would even meet her there sometimes, lurking in the shadows to scare her when she sneaks away from her 'prison' as they called it. She doesn't know when both of her homes became cells, but now she feels more trapped than ever.
"I always listen for you , lover," Hades responds flatly, making it clear he wants to drop the conversation. Persephone must catch on because she turns to look out the window without arguing. He doesn't know why he can't talk to her, and he certainly doesn't know how to start.
We'll try again next fall.
The words had given him more hope than he cared to admit. He changed things around the kingdom. Made it a bit darker, a bit cooler. Let the shades have a bit more free time. Let the songbird open Persephone's old bar back up so they can have a place to gather. It's went a lot more smoothly than he thought possible. He's even caught a few of the workers smiling while they sing their songs.
The boy still haunts him though. His song plays on repeat in the back of Hades' head. His face when he turns around and sees his songbird still plague his nightmares. They were so close, even Hades held his breath in hope that he would make it. The dance he shared with his wife, the first in he doesn't know how long, never quite leaves his mind either. The smile on her face as they spin, the genuine laugh as he misses a step and almost falls. The way she pulled herself against him as the music stopped, and let him hold her against his chest. She wasn't tense in her normal fight or flight position like she did sometimes before in the bedroom when he embraced her. He knows the need to fix things, and he's spent a lot of his sleepless nights in the workshop, drawing out ways to fix their relationship on blue print papers, where he was most comfortable, all the while hearing 'la la la la la la la'.