Chapter Three:

The bed chamber was large and filled with many candles, but shadows swirled about it like mist.

It was quiet, but the wails of the dead could not be kept from Persephone's mind now that she had heard their many mouthed screams.

The room smelt slightly of earth and sulphur, but it was pungent to Persephone's nose. Pungent to one who favoured jasmine and thyme and the smell of nature itself.

The bed was large, beautifully made and obviously comforting, but Persephone feared it with all her heart.

Hades moved towards her, white teeth gleaming in the shadows and she turned her back to him, arms folded tightly across her breast, head bowed.

She felt the cold bite of metal as it was lowered around her neck and her shoulders shook softly with repressed tears. The heavily jewelled necklace seemed to pull her head downwards with its very weight and Persephone struggled to keep from yanking it from her slender throat and casting it to the floor.

She felt Hades cool hands run over her collar bone as he stepped around to face her, caressing her slowly cooling flesh, and she saw the sparkle of diamonds and the glint of polished gold shine from his right hand as he placed a crown upon her head. A crown, that marked her as his Queen. His dark eyes sparkled with pleasure, and in a rich velvety voice he spoke in honeyed tones that had never before been used by the Ruler of the dead.

'Now shall Hera be ever unsure, for here is a Queen that rivals even her in power. And now shall Aphrodite be ever jealous, for here is a girl that surpasses her in beauty and wonderment', he paused and stepped nearer, his many ringed fingers running along her jaw line in a sentimental way. 'And may mortal men ever weep with a desire which can never be assuaged… for what living man shall dare touch the Queen of the Dead?'
Persephone began to weep openly at this, and her once bright and carefree eyes were dull and laced with fear and sorrow.

'I would rather crawl at Hera's feet as a slave in the Heavens with the stars as my guides, than stand tall as Queen of the Underworld', Hades confusion enveloped her and she continued on, her tears flowing free and heavy. 'And I would rather scorch away my very skin in the fiery pits that you tend so dutifully, and be feared and rejected by all, than have you call me beautiful.'

Hades anger was abrupt, his passion fading at her rejection, but Persephone – still just a girl – merely trembled in fear as he began to yell at her in frustration.

'You would reject me? The only God that could possibly rival Zeus in power? One that can give you all the riches that you desire? Did I not set you upon a throne? Did I not bestow gifts of emeralds, rubies and all other precious metals and stones to you in my devotion? I did not ravish and leave you as Zeus has so often done with his conquests. I have taken you as my Queen, not as my concubine and yet you defy me!?' Persephone backed away from the fearful force before her, but then with a childish stubbornness she pressed on, her heart mourning the warmth of the sun, and the gentle rolls of the hills in the meadows that she so adored.

And her mother. How she missed her mother.

'I would rather wear a wreath of daisies upon my brow then a crown of Diamonds. I would rather hold a newborn lamb in my arms then a sceptre of gold. You give me riches, but I care nothing for them... I would rather have the sun caress me and fill me with warmth than have your cold and clammy touches. I had no desire for a husband or a lover and you stripped me of both choices. I am no more your wife than your prisoner.'

Hades expression was hard, and Persephone, although inexperienced in the ways of love could guess his thoughts. 'I gave her everything. I offered my kingdom, power, wealth and love and yet she has refused? What more can I give?' He did not voice these thoughts however; instead a cold steely voice came from his tall form that had nothing in it but the essence of command.

'A prisoner you may be… and a prisoner you will stay. I shall not return you to your mother. You are Queen, if not yet in practice. The fates have woven your path – accept that, and me (when the time comes), with dignity.'

And with that he turned and strode away into the ever pressing darkness leaving Persephone alone with the cold touch of riches she did not desire, and a broken heart that could not mend.