Epitaph Empress
Author's Note: Well, I don't update for five months and now I'm posting two instalments per day. I guess it tips the cosmic balance back in my favour a bit. Nearing the end of Part Two now! Ooh, out of curiosity - has anyone heard the song 'Persephone' by Cocteau Twins? It conjures some superb images just by the sound alone. Very nice. Go listen.
Epitaph Empress
Chapter X
A crown was conjured from smoke and ash, crooning with divine darkness and took magnificent form upon Persephone's beautiful head, settling passively within her flowing long curls of healthy brown. It was large and everything an imperial crown should be, its frame carved from black gold and was studded with shimmering diamonds adorning it like a sheen of glittering raindrops, an armour of light. She felt a lump rise in her throat; she had never seen anything so beautiful or frightening. It had been designed with soft padding on the interior and yet she still sensed a headache looming, as if to spite her. She felt tired, as though she hadn't slept for days, though in reality this was to be her first night in the kingdom of darkness - the first of many nights. The atmosphere was so oppressive; time drawing out each miserable moment, making it difficult to define how much time had slipped past. Perhaps she had been there for a hundred years already.
She had been escorted around the obscure outskirts of her dark home and had been shown its unlit heart, as though to be ruler of such a realm was a thing to take pride in. She shivered. The Lord Hades - she refused outright to think of him as her husband! - had lavished her with kind words and with gift after gift, one magnificent creation after another in a vain hope to earn her love. It sickened her.
She had been adorned in jewels and the wealth of all his riches and yet she was not swayed by such petty gestures. What was it to one who possessed all the earth's wealth to give her a few pretty trinkets? She detested them - they were wrong, false. They were without life, without substance, they carried with them no songs nor laughter, only a hard regret at being ripped away from their massive collective of rock, to have been torn from the earth, from all they knew. She trembled like an uneasy mountain flower in a strong wind; these gems echoed her own story. Would she eventually become like the stones she wore - all glitter and no depth apart from regret?
It seemed revolting, to be adorned by her own fate. It frightened her. Yet she had no choice; all Hades had to offer she had refused and yet all the same she had to wear them. She wanted to tear them away from her, to cast them away forever before they polluted her with their mournful dazzle! They wore her, not the other way around. They were heavy and screamed of her imprisonment, like chains rather than jewels. Her breath caught in her throat for a moment; she would have given anything to wear flowers in place of such parodies of adornment! She wanted to wear her sweet little wreath! She did not want to wear sandals! She did not want an elaborate gown!
A terrible thought flickered in her mind - what if she forgot the tender scent of flowers nestled in bright fields? What if she forgot the feel of the sunlight warm on her back? What if she would eventually forget her bright world after so long in the dark? What if her mother became nothing more than a pale memory?
The darkness of the smoky den of the room gathered around her like a cloak. The room was grey and dark apart from several pale torches, dim fires of false bombast, illuminating only the table by which she sat, the figures of herself and Hades and a few tapestries hung from the walls. She sat in an elaborate ebony chair facing the Lord Hades, on a grand table intended for a banquet. Tonight, it was a banquet for two. The thought made her sink back further into her chair, hands clutching each other in desperation, her eyes lowered. The very same thought brought a quiet smile upon Hades' face; for so long it had been a banquet for one. Yet he noticed, despite the feast that had been prepared for them, Persephone did nothing but sit quietly, refusing to look upon him or touch the exotic and wondrous food prepared for her.
His dark voice wove the line between noise and silence together, so shaded a whisper it was, like the rustling of a spider's web. "Beloved Persephone, will you not partake of this feast in your honour? It would give me much happiness to see you eat; this day has been trying for you, you are doubtless in need of sustenance and good food shall restore you."
She looked upon the feast of succulent shades, all edged with the shade of tangerine, from the surrounding flames. Her throat and stomach yearned for them. True, she was desperately hungry as the few hours that had passed since she was and innocent girlchild had become terrifying years of misery. Yet her memory fled back to one day in the temple of Athena, being taught by the owl-eyed goddess of all the regions under the command of the Gods of Olympus. She remembered how she had been possessed by fiery pity for the one that should have to languish in such a vile realm. More importantly, she remembered something vital that Athena had divulged to her.
"Child, if ever you do tread out of the territory of your own bright element and find yourself in the consuming darkness and solitude of the dead Underworld then remember do not sample any of the culinary offerings the realm possess. For it lacks life and gives the pretence of life and health in order to rob such life from passers-by. Remember, sweet child of light, taste not the sweet offerings of Hades, lest you wish to remain by his side throughout the ages."
She looked at the delicious food, ripe with temptation, their brightness attempting to seduce her into devouring them. She looked again, taking strength from the words and teachings of Athena - how she longed for advice from her wise friend! - and looked upon the meal again, as though it was poison.
"I am not hungry." She said quietly.
Hades' voice rose in distress. "But surely you will eat something?"
"I will not, my Lord. I have given my answer. I am not hungry."
"Very well, my love," he said soothingly. "You have had a day that would rob anyone of the desire to dine. It matters not - it is the food of immortals and shall keep until later when hunger revisits you and shall be as glorious, ripe and glistening as when you first laid eyes upon it."
Her voice was low. "I-I. . .I shall not be hungry then."
He raised his eyebrow questioningly.
"I shall not be hungry so long as I remain here and shall not partake of any of your offerings, delightful though they may be to mine eye."
"Persephone, please listen to reason. I do not wish my beloved to suffer and starve like the wife of a lowly slave."
"I wish not for your food. You know what it shall do to me, as do I. . .I am no fool, Lord Hades."
His voice was level, though his sapphire eyes burned with desperation. "You are my wife and are already bound to my land and myself. The food shall make little difference. Please, dine with me. I do not ask this from a malevolent wish to thwart your every hope but because it pains me to see you punish yourself. You are paling, Persephone. . .please eat, if only a little. Else I have fine drinks to offer you - accept one of them in place of food, would it only restore the colour to your face."
She looked up at him, the green boughs within her eyes spread with vulnerability. Suddenly, she was unsure of herself and afraid again. He met her gaze, comfortingly, and held it, his own eyes warming.
She thought of her mother. Her mother would find her. Her mother would find a way to put everything right once more.
"Nay," she spoke, voice quavering. "I wish not for these meals. I am a goddess - I shall not take the appearance of one starved."
He looked crestfallen. She suddenly felt an abstract sympathy for one who was trying so hard to please her. But no, no matter what his intentions, he had wronged her terribly. She still stood strong and proud in the light of the right, despite feeling guilt for causing pain in another.
Her voice, tinged with awkward remorse, rose up shakily, timidly above the silence. "I should take my leave. I am sorry." She rose hastily.
Quickly, he rose also and glided across to her like the graceful but powerful flight of the moon. As she stood and began to rushingly place her grand chair back by the table, he was at her side.
"Please Persephone, pause." He said, gently placing his cold hand on her shoulder to halt her. He sensed her body immediately stiffen and become akin to wood at his touch and instantly retracted his hand, cursing himself for so bold a movement. Yet, his words hung thickly between them, commanding her to stay. She complied, wondering why he was not angry and impatient, as she feared he might become. He took a few steps away from her, guilty for having stood so tantalisingly close to her, expecting her to run away now that he no longer stood in a path. An ember of happiness glowed as he saw that she made no move to leave. She was so sweet, so lovely. . .
"Please stay." He asked.
"But I am not to eat. . .there is no purpose in remaining here."
"Will you not sit with me? Will you not speak with me?" he asked, his voice pained.
"You wish to speak to me?"
"It would give me great joy to be given the honour to share conversation with you, Lady Persephone."
Her voice betrayed the regretful tug of nostalgia. "I told you once not to call me by that title." She said, her voice empty, leaving Hades unsure whether or not she was simply talking to herself.
"I suspected you would now retract that honour from it."
"I have not." She gave a ghost of a smile, reminding him of how captivating her cheery smiles were, how much light could shine from even the smallest of her smiles.
"I am undeserving of such a favour."
"You hurt me, yes. But you were not undeserving once, when I made that choice. I thought us friends. Once I would have liked us to be friends." Her voice was warmer now.
His heart felt ready to break open his chest, so full it was with feelings for her. How he longed to see her smile and dance once more, to see her happy.
"You have no idea how greatly you have honoured me or how much such a gesture means to me - you give such maddening hope! There is nothing I can give so great as this happiness such kind words has given me. There is no honour that can equal to this, no request impossible. If only I could reward such feelings with something of equal value!"
No sooner were the words out of his mouth did he realise what he had said. He stopped short. Not that. She could not ask for him to release her, not now. She did not ask, but her eyes, so mournful, said it all, betrayed all she longed for in her bright world. He saw it all without her needing to voice any question. But he could not. He could not return her and never look upon such eyes again! He snapped his head away from her sorrowful, innocent gaze, his ebony hair swaying a little with the uncharacteristically quick movement. He would ignore that look, wipe it from his memory. There must be something else he could give her.
With a fluidic gesture of the hand, a dazzling object was conjured from nothingness into solid, glittering reality.
"I have a gift for you. . ." he said awkwardly, full of guilt, knowing he was only trying to divert her attention, to give her a thing without importance to her. He felt truly detestable. He drew out a fabulous necklace of diamonds, each individual gem shining with radiance. "It will look beautiful upon you. . ." he began, attempting to slip it upon her neck.
The moment she felt the cold of the jewels press against the tender skin of her throat, she recoiled, bursting away from him, holding her own hand to her violated neck, as if to erase its trace from her skin.
"I want it not! I have no love for such things! If you think to please me with objects then conjure a flower, conjure a tree, conjure some light but do try to sway me with lifeless jewels! They do not warm my blood not stir my heart, only harden it. Learn and show me life." She cried out, outrage shaking her very core. "How can you think that my heart and mind will be brought for such a tiny price?!"
Puzzled bafflement washed over his sallow features of ivory. "Tiny price? How can you call such a thing by that foul epithet? Look upon it - it is a masterpiece, laced with thousands of jewels! I wanted to glorify you, to see you wear all the stars of the sky upon your neck! Such an object of such a 'tiny price', as you call it, could feed a starving family for generations of great comfort!" he said in desperation, trying to bend her sight to his own understanding.
Her voice was strained with angry passion. "Then give it to a starving family, not to me, who has no want of it! Indeed, if you would display such generosity by sacrificing it to those who need it, you would come far closer to reaching any region of my heart than by forcing such shallow dazzle upon one who is sickened by the sight of it. Do not understand? You have not seen the stars in the moon-painted sky at night and know not how such gems pale next to them. I have no desire to wear star-like jewels upon my neck, but to once more see the real stars adorn the sky!" Her eyes were desperate, tearful. Why could he not understand?
"I cannot help you, Persephone, no matter how my heart longs to." He said despairingly. "I do not wish to be alone again. To give you up would be to steal my own stars."
The necklace fell from his hand, falling like rain for one moment before evaporating into shadow and dusk.
* * * * *
Eris lounged in the vast dreamscapes of the chambers of Olympus alone. Every deity had fled their heavenly kingdom of luxury to soil their hands by gracing the earthly lands to search for little Persephone. Demeter had poured out terrible grief, her face worn and harrow with worry and the entire Pantheon had scattered - even the mighty Zeus himself - across the mortal lands to search for the helpless girl.
Demeter had cried; not tears of happiness as she had in golden moments with her child, but now tears of helplessness as she imagined what terrible things had befallen her. Still, she inexplicably blamed Eris for whatever had happened, for bringing strife upon her daughter.
How laughable, Eris thought to herself. Yes, Eris fed on spite, like a wound teased again and again, never being allowed to heal and was known as the one who caused all troubles. But to think that Eris had any interest in Persephone was foolish and did both mother and daughter too much credit.
Yet, it was still an agreeable situation. It was be interesting to see what discord would do to mould the little child. And it gave Eris a moment alone to appreciate the solitude of Olympus. Olympus. Empty. Hers. At least, until someone returned. She loved solitude as much as she adored the confusion and hustle-bustle of huge crowds. She had learnt to appreciate the joys of being alone with her thoughts long ago. She tossed her mane of flame-like hair back and grinned to herself, lapping up the moment. Her eyes, like a boar's eyes - too small, too black apart from that garnet glimmer, and too shiny, smiled with her.
Without reason, she was joyful and malicious all at once. At that moment, she began to sing a tune she had picked up along her travels. She enjoyed singing, despite her off-key tones. It was about being loud. She smiled inwardly at the memory at how many immortal frowning faces turned towards her as she disrupted a previous gathering by bursting into haughty song. Such fun. . .!
But soon, the stillness and the pleasure of being alone became boredom. She never felt right if she was not actively going about one task or another. A brilliant thought struck her - it would be interesting to aid in the search, to see if she could add a little spice to the dreary procedure, perhaps even ignite Demeter's rage again. She - unlike the others - had noticed the soil of the mortal coil. It did not bode well. It betrayed possible famine. It would certainly make the time of the search more interesting.
She walked away with casual swank, whistling to herself, as was her habit. Quizzically, she wondered what was happening to little Persephone at that very moment.
* * * * *
She felt a dread so terrible that it froze her heart as a grave realisation hit her. She was not numb enough to withstand it. The Lord Hades had noticed her tiredness and had suggested that she retired to bed. The very thought filled her with fear. She did not know much about married life but she knew that husbands and wives shared a bed and their bodies, whatever that entailed. She wanted to scream. His cold, clammy kiss had been enough to last her a lifetime and the prospect of all the hidden terrors of a marital bed reduced her inwardly to a whimpering child.
However upon reaching a huge chamber, her fear reaching an apex so tremendous that she felt certain she would faint, they stopped at his huge double doors of grey stone, harbouring shadows between its elaborate carvings and impressive arch.
"This is your chamber. Rest well, Persephone." He said quietly, his eyes drinking in the sight of her.
"My own chamber?" she asked, with all the shyness and naivety of a child filled with hopeful gratitude.
He reached out and tenderly took her small hand in his own, before brushing it with his lips. He looked deeply into her eyes, hoping she could see into his soul. Hoping she could see how much he cared for her.
"I would never harm you."
The honesty and love in his words spoke for themselves, leaving Persephone overwhelmed but still resentful at his cruelty for not returning her. She smiled unconsciously. He felt himself basking in its glow and felt the thrill of impulse and love course through him once more. He kissed her hand again and withdrew his lips a mere inch from her hands, almost brushing her dainty fingertips. She stared, mesmerised and something deep inside her tried to hide itself. Only then she realised she was trembling. The tension between their prickling bodies was unbearable.
Like a retreating shadow he withdrew and walked away into darkness, becoming one with it.
A voice penetrated the chill of silence and dusty air. "My Lord Hades, are not your own chambers to the north? For surely, you seem to be walking back to the main throne room." She had no idea why she spoke but curiosity had prevailed.
"I have duties I must attend to." He responded, vowing to make sure to make time for his beautiful bride in the future, however demanding his duties as Overlord were.
"Do you not sleep, my Lord?" Her question was sweet in its innocence.
"Rarely. There is little need for it."
It sounded so wrong to her, who had always slept every night shortly after the setting of the sun. How could he not sleep?
"Do you not dream?"
He gave her a penetrating look that she not place. It was one of the ways that he gazed at her. It unmade her nerves. Then, he returned to darkness and shadow and was gone.
Creeping into her chamber alone once more, Persephone felt the solitude crush her. Her air was cold and dusty. Her room was large and well-furnaced but soulless and so very dark, without windows or candles. There was a shallow attempt at a carving of forests and flowerfields in the stone walls. But there was no colours to it, no life, no breath. Suddenly, she felt her own breath fall away and shattered by the totality of her solitude with a husband that could never understand her, she flung herself on the huge walnut bed and cried herself to sleep with bitter tears she had so long repressed. She did not know how long she lay there, weeping, calling out to her mother, longing to be held, to be soothed, to be told that all would be well. Eventually, when her energy and tears were drained away, weary sleep possessed her and she drifted away from the waking world in misery and terrible loneliness.
Morpheus did not discover her whereabouts that night, as he had planned to so carefully. For Persephone did not dream that night.
Author's Note: Well, I don't update for five months and now I'm posting two instalments per day. I guess it tips the cosmic balance back in my favour a bit. Nearing the end of Part Two now! Ooh, out of curiosity - has anyone heard the song 'Persephone' by Cocteau Twins? It conjures some superb images just by the sound alone. Very nice. Go listen.
Epitaph Empress
Chapter X
A crown was conjured from smoke and ash, crooning with divine darkness and took magnificent form upon Persephone's beautiful head, settling passively within her flowing long curls of healthy brown. It was large and everything an imperial crown should be, its frame carved from black gold and was studded with shimmering diamonds adorning it like a sheen of glittering raindrops, an armour of light. She felt a lump rise in her throat; she had never seen anything so beautiful or frightening. It had been designed with soft padding on the interior and yet she still sensed a headache looming, as if to spite her. She felt tired, as though she hadn't slept for days, though in reality this was to be her first night in the kingdom of darkness - the first of many nights. The atmosphere was so oppressive; time drawing out each miserable moment, making it difficult to define how much time had slipped past. Perhaps she had been there for a hundred years already.
She had been escorted around the obscure outskirts of her dark home and had been shown its unlit heart, as though to be ruler of such a realm was a thing to take pride in. She shivered. The Lord Hades - she refused outright to think of him as her husband! - had lavished her with kind words and with gift after gift, one magnificent creation after another in a vain hope to earn her love. It sickened her.
She had been adorned in jewels and the wealth of all his riches and yet she was not swayed by such petty gestures. What was it to one who possessed all the earth's wealth to give her a few pretty trinkets? She detested them - they were wrong, false. They were without life, without substance, they carried with them no songs nor laughter, only a hard regret at being ripped away from their massive collective of rock, to have been torn from the earth, from all they knew. She trembled like an uneasy mountain flower in a strong wind; these gems echoed her own story. Would she eventually become like the stones she wore - all glitter and no depth apart from regret?
It seemed revolting, to be adorned by her own fate. It frightened her. Yet she had no choice; all Hades had to offer she had refused and yet all the same she had to wear them. She wanted to tear them away from her, to cast them away forever before they polluted her with their mournful dazzle! They wore her, not the other way around. They were heavy and screamed of her imprisonment, like chains rather than jewels. Her breath caught in her throat for a moment; she would have given anything to wear flowers in place of such parodies of adornment! She wanted to wear her sweet little wreath! She did not want to wear sandals! She did not want an elaborate gown!
A terrible thought flickered in her mind - what if she forgot the tender scent of flowers nestled in bright fields? What if she forgot the feel of the sunlight warm on her back? What if she would eventually forget her bright world after so long in the dark? What if her mother became nothing more than a pale memory?
The darkness of the smoky den of the room gathered around her like a cloak. The room was grey and dark apart from several pale torches, dim fires of false bombast, illuminating only the table by which she sat, the figures of herself and Hades and a few tapestries hung from the walls. She sat in an elaborate ebony chair facing the Lord Hades, on a grand table intended for a banquet. Tonight, it was a banquet for two. The thought made her sink back further into her chair, hands clutching each other in desperation, her eyes lowered. The very same thought brought a quiet smile upon Hades' face; for so long it had been a banquet for one. Yet he noticed, despite the feast that had been prepared for them, Persephone did nothing but sit quietly, refusing to look upon him or touch the exotic and wondrous food prepared for her.
His dark voice wove the line between noise and silence together, so shaded a whisper it was, like the rustling of a spider's web. "Beloved Persephone, will you not partake of this feast in your honour? It would give me much happiness to see you eat; this day has been trying for you, you are doubtless in need of sustenance and good food shall restore you."
She looked upon the feast of succulent shades, all edged with the shade of tangerine, from the surrounding flames. Her throat and stomach yearned for them. True, she was desperately hungry as the few hours that had passed since she was and innocent girlchild had become terrifying years of misery. Yet her memory fled back to one day in the temple of Athena, being taught by the owl-eyed goddess of all the regions under the command of the Gods of Olympus. She remembered how she had been possessed by fiery pity for the one that should have to languish in such a vile realm. More importantly, she remembered something vital that Athena had divulged to her.
"Child, if ever you do tread out of the territory of your own bright element and find yourself in the consuming darkness and solitude of the dead Underworld then remember do not sample any of the culinary offerings the realm possess. For it lacks life and gives the pretence of life and health in order to rob such life from passers-by. Remember, sweet child of light, taste not the sweet offerings of Hades, lest you wish to remain by his side throughout the ages."
She looked at the delicious food, ripe with temptation, their brightness attempting to seduce her into devouring them. She looked again, taking strength from the words and teachings of Athena - how she longed for advice from her wise friend! - and looked upon the meal again, as though it was poison.
"I am not hungry." She said quietly.
Hades' voice rose in distress. "But surely you will eat something?"
"I will not, my Lord. I have given my answer. I am not hungry."
"Very well, my love," he said soothingly. "You have had a day that would rob anyone of the desire to dine. It matters not - it is the food of immortals and shall keep until later when hunger revisits you and shall be as glorious, ripe and glistening as when you first laid eyes upon it."
Her voice was low. "I-I. . .I shall not be hungry then."
He raised his eyebrow questioningly.
"I shall not be hungry so long as I remain here and shall not partake of any of your offerings, delightful though they may be to mine eye."
"Persephone, please listen to reason. I do not wish my beloved to suffer and starve like the wife of a lowly slave."
"I wish not for your food. You know what it shall do to me, as do I. . .I am no fool, Lord Hades."
His voice was level, though his sapphire eyes burned with desperation. "You are my wife and are already bound to my land and myself. The food shall make little difference. Please, dine with me. I do not ask this from a malevolent wish to thwart your every hope but because it pains me to see you punish yourself. You are paling, Persephone. . .please eat, if only a little. Else I have fine drinks to offer you - accept one of them in place of food, would it only restore the colour to your face."
She looked up at him, the green boughs within her eyes spread with vulnerability. Suddenly, she was unsure of herself and afraid again. He met her gaze, comfortingly, and held it, his own eyes warming.
She thought of her mother. Her mother would find her. Her mother would find a way to put everything right once more.
"Nay," she spoke, voice quavering. "I wish not for these meals. I am a goddess - I shall not take the appearance of one starved."
He looked crestfallen. She suddenly felt an abstract sympathy for one who was trying so hard to please her. But no, no matter what his intentions, he had wronged her terribly. She still stood strong and proud in the light of the right, despite feeling guilt for causing pain in another.
Her voice, tinged with awkward remorse, rose up shakily, timidly above the silence. "I should take my leave. I am sorry." She rose hastily.
Quickly, he rose also and glided across to her like the graceful but powerful flight of the moon. As she stood and began to rushingly place her grand chair back by the table, he was at her side.
"Please Persephone, pause." He said, gently placing his cold hand on her shoulder to halt her. He sensed her body immediately stiffen and become akin to wood at his touch and instantly retracted his hand, cursing himself for so bold a movement. Yet, his words hung thickly between them, commanding her to stay. She complied, wondering why he was not angry and impatient, as she feared he might become. He took a few steps away from her, guilty for having stood so tantalisingly close to her, expecting her to run away now that he no longer stood in a path. An ember of happiness glowed as he saw that she made no move to leave. She was so sweet, so lovely. . .
"Please stay." He asked.
"But I am not to eat. . .there is no purpose in remaining here."
"Will you not sit with me? Will you not speak with me?" he asked, his voice pained.
"You wish to speak to me?"
"It would give me great joy to be given the honour to share conversation with you, Lady Persephone."
Her voice betrayed the regretful tug of nostalgia. "I told you once not to call me by that title." She said, her voice empty, leaving Hades unsure whether or not she was simply talking to herself.
"I suspected you would now retract that honour from it."
"I have not." She gave a ghost of a smile, reminding him of how captivating her cheery smiles were, how much light could shine from even the smallest of her smiles.
"I am undeserving of such a favour."
"You hurt me, yes. But you were not undeserving once, when I made that choice. I thought us friends. Once I would have liked us to be friends." Her voice was warmer now.
His heart felt ready to break open his chest, so full it was with feelings for her. How he longed to see her smile and dance once more, to see her happy.
"You have no idea how greatly you have honoured me or how much such a gesture means to me - you give such maddening hope! There is nothing I can give so great as this happiness such kind words has given me. There is no honour that can equal to this, no request impossible. If only I could reward such feelings with something of equal value!"
No sooner were the words out of his mouth did he realise what he had said. He stopped short. Not that. She could not ask for him to release her, not now. She did not ask, but her eyes, so mournful, said it all, betrayed all she longed for in her bright world. He saw it all without her needing to voice any question. But he could not. He could not return her and never look upon such eyes again! He snapped his head away from her sorrowful, innocent gaze, his ebony hair swaying a little with the uncharacteristically quick movement. He would ignore that look, wipe it from his memory. There must be something else he could give her.
With a fluidic gesture of the hand, a dazzling object was conjured from nothingness into solid, glittering reality.
"I have a gift for you. . ." he said awkwardly, full of guilt, knowing he was only trying to divert her attention, to give her a thing without importance to her. He felt truly detestable. He drew out a fabulous necklace of diamonds, each individual gem shining with radiance. "It will look beautiful upon you. . ." he began, attempting to slip it upon her neck.
The moment she felt the cold of the jewels press against the tender skin of her throat, she recoiled, bursting away from him, holding her own hand to her violated neck, as if to erase its trace from her skin.
"I want it not! I have no love for such things! If you think to please me with objects then conjure a flower, conjure a tree, conjure some light but do try to sway me with lifeless jewels! They do not warm my blood not stir my heart, only harden it. Learn and show me life." She cried out, outrage shaking her very core. "How can you think that my heart and mind will be brought for such a tiny price?!"
Puzzled bafflement washed over his sallow features of ivory. "Tiny price? How can you call such a thing by that foul epithet? Look upon it - it is a masterpiece, laced with thousands of jewels! I wanted to glorify you, to see you wear all the stars of the sky upon your neck! Such an object of such a 'tiny price', as you call it, could feed a starving family for generations of great comfort!" he said in desperation, trying to bend her sight to his own understanding.
Her voice was strained with angry passion. "Then give it to a starving family, not to me, who has no want of it! Indeed, if you would display such generosity by sacrificing it to those who need it, you would come far closer to reaching any region of my heart than by forcing such shallow dazzle upon one who is sickened by the sight of it. Do not understand? You have not seen the stars in the moon-painted sky at night and know not how such gems pale next to them. I have no desire to wear star-like jewels upon my neck, but to once more see the real stars adorn the sky!" Her eyes were desperate, tearful. Why could he not understand?
"I cannot help you, Persephone, no matter how my heart longs to." He said despairingly. "I do not wish to be alone again. To give you up would be to steal my own stars."
The necklace fell from his hand, falling like rain for one moment before evaporating into shadow and dusk.
* * * * *
Eris lounged in the vast dreamscapes of the chambers of Olympus alone. Every deity had fled their heavenly kingdom of luxury to soil their hands by gracing the earthly lands to search for little Persephone. Demeter had poured out terrible grief, her face worn and harrow with worry and the entire Pantheon had scattered - even the mighty Zeus himself - across the mortal lands to search for the helpless girl.
Demeter had cried; not tears of happiness as she had in golden moments with her child, but now tears of helplessness as she imagined what terrible things had befallen her. Still, she inexplicably blamed Eris for whatever had happened, for bringing strife upon her daughter.
How laughable, Eris thought to herself. Yes, Eris fed on spite, like a wound teased again and again, never being allowed to heal and was known as the one who caused all troubles. But to think that Eris had any interest in Persephone was foolish and did both mother and daughter too much credit.
Yet, it was still an agreeable situation. It was be interesting to see what discord would do to mould the little child. And it gave Eris a moment alone to appreciate the solitude of Olympus. Olympus. Empty. Hers. At least, until someone returned. She loved solitude as much as she adored the confusion and hustle-bustle of huge crowds. She had learnt to appreciate the joys of being alone with her thoughts long ago. She tossed her mane of flame-like hair back and grinned to herself, lapping up the moment. Her eyes, like a boar's eyes - too small, too black apart from that garnet glimmer, and too shiny, smiled with her.
Without reason, she was joyful and malicious all at once. At that moment, she began to sing a tune she had picked up along her travels. She enjoyed singing, despite her off-key tones. It was about being loud. She smiled inwardly at the memory at how many immortal frowning faces turned towards her as she disrupted a previous gathering by bursting into haughty song. Such fun. . .!
But soon, the stillness and the pleasure of being alone became boredom. She never felt right if she was not actively going about one task or another. A brilliant thought struck her - it would be interesting to aid in the search, to see if she could add a little spice to the dreary procedure, perhaps even ignite Demeter's rage again. She - unlike the others - had noticed the soil of the mortal coil. It did not bode well. It betrayed possible famine. It would certainly make the time of the search more interesting.
She walked away with casual swank, whistling to herself, as was her habit. Quizzically, she wondered what was happening to little Persephone at that very moment.
* * * * *
She felt a dread so terrible that it froze her heart as a grave realisation hit her. She was not numb enough to withstand it. The Lord Hades had noticed her tiredness and had suggested that she retired to bed. The very thought filled her with fear. She did not know much about married life but she knew that husbands and wives shared a bed and their bodies, whatever that entailed. She wanted to scream. His cold, clammy kiss had been enough to last her a lifetime and the prospect of all the hidden terrors of a marital bed reduced her inwardly to a whimpering child.
However upon reaching a huge chamber, her fear reaching an apex so tremendous that she felt certain she would faint, they stopped at his huge double doors of grey stone, harbouring shadows between its elaborate carvings and impressive arch.
"This is your chamber. Rest well, Persephone." He said quietly, his eyes drinking in the sight of her.
"My own chamber?" she asked, with all the shyness and naivety of a child filled with hopeful gratitude.
He reached out and tenderly took her small hand in his own, before brushing it with his lips. He looked deeply into her eyes, hoping she could see into his soul. Hoping she could see how much he cared for her.
"I would never harm you."
The honesty and love in his words spoke for themselves, leaving Persephone overwhelmed but still resentful at his cruelty for not returning her. She smiled unconsciously. He felt himself basking in its glow and felt the thrill of impulse and love course through him once more. He kissed her hand again and withdrew his lips a mere inch from her hands, almost brushing her dainty fingertips. She stared, mesmerised and something deep inside her tried to hide itself. Only then she realised she was trembling. The tension between their prickling bodies was unbearable.
Like a retreating shadow he withdrew and walked away into darkness, becoming one with it.
A voice penetrated the chill of silence and dusty air. "My Lord Hades, are not your own chambers to the north? For surely, you seem to be walking back to the main throne room." She had no idea why she spoke but curiosity had prevailed.
"I have duties I must attend to." He responded, vowing to make sure to make time for his beautiful bride in the future, however demanding his duties as Overlord were.
"Do you not sleep, my Lord?" Her question was sweet in its innocence.
"Rarely. There is little need for it."
It sounded so wrong to her, who had always slept every night shortly after the setting of the sun. How could he not sleep?
"Do you not dream?"
He gave her a penetrating look that she not place. It was one of the ways that he gazed at her. It unmade her nerves. Then, he returned to darkness and shadow and was gone.
Creeping into her chamber alone once more, Persephone felt the solitude crush her. Her air was cold and dusty. Her room was large and well-furnaced but soulless and so very dark, without windows or candles. There was a shallow attempt at a carving of forests and flowerfields in the stone walls. But there was no colours to it, no life, no breath. Suddenly, she felt her own breath fall away and shattered by the totality of her solitude with a husband that could never understand her, she flung herself on the huge walnut bed and cried herself to sleep with bitter tears she had so long repressed. She did not know how long she lay there, weeping, calling out to her mother, longing to be held, to be soothed, to be told that all would be well. Eventually, when her energy and tears were drained away, weary sleep possessed her and she drifted away from the waking world in misery and terrible loneliness.
Morpheus did not discover her whereabouts that night, as he had planned to so carefully. For Persephone did not dream that night.