Períergos
Persephone awakes while Apollo is hitching up his solar horses. Nyx is seen yawning above, almost disappeared from the sky.
A rose blush is creeping along the horizon, the gentle cheek of Aurora, heralding a new dawn.
Amid the beauty outside, Persephone is in agony inside.
"How am I going to get to the Chthonic Meadow? And away from my mother?"
Her brain feels tired, overworked. No plan or idea has come to her rescue. Not last night, nor now.
Her eyebrows knit together in consternation. Inevitably, in moments such as these, doubt begins to creep in.
"I don't even know him, really. Is it even wise to go find him out? He could be lying in wait to hurt me or steal me away. Mother says other lesser deities wish to, which is why she keeps me home so often."
"When has mother ever been right? Am I really listening to her now?"
Her thoughts turn back to his eyes, so earnest and beseeching. The artlessness of his words. She calms.
"No. No, I'm wrong, he was speaking truth. I know it. I can trust him."
Truly, she had slept fitfully. Worry and doubt, mixed with heightened physical longing for the tall, handsome god in the forest had made for a poor sleep cycle. Her nerves and body were frayed.
Against her better judgment, she does the only thing available to her. She closes her eyes and solemnly prays to the three Fates, to give her fortune today, that a chance to see him can be accomplished and a way to the Meadow is revealed.
For the briefest of moments, Persephone feels a tremor of fear. She knows better, her mother taught her the danger. Anyone foolish enough to implore the Fates to change the weaving of your life's strand could easily find themselves having that same thread abruptly cut.
The Fates might grant your wish, but at what cost to your future?
Before she could ponder too deeply the ramifications of her foolish actions, an angry voice is heard.
"Persephone!" Demeter is calling from downstairs. "Are you still abed? Rise and break your fast, we have much to do today, and Apollo has nearly shown himself!"
Her mother, never to let a day of hurried tasks stay undone, spoke in her usual harried, nervous voice.
With no other way to vent her ever-present frustration, Persephone rolls her eyes in silence and gets out of her bed.
She stumbles down the stairs and drags herself to the table where Demeter promptly places a goblet of nectar and a plate of ambrosia in front of her. It's not like the heavenly delights that make up a god's diet is bad or anything, Persephone has too much on her mind to bother with eating.
Like him. He's on her mind. His lips are too.
A warmth rises on her neck and cheeks, "That was random, where did that come from?" She thinks to herself. "But…I wonder what they feel like? Probably soft. And his tongue...how it would feel on mine…"
"Seph!" Demeter scolds. "You're not eating?" Persephone visibly jumps out of her reverie and promptly picks up her fork, scarfing down her ambrosia. Demeter's eyebrow raises, "You're acting awfully strange today, dear. What's going on?" Her eyes narrow.
"Nothing, mother! I just..."
Demeter interrupts her, "We can't waste one minute! We'll be leaving for Hestia's in a little while, you know how my dear sister looks forward to our visits. You know she can't leave her hearth, poor thing..."
"Must really suck to be stuck at home all the time," Persephone grumbles under her breath.
Demeter promptly whips around, 'What was that my dear?"
Across the house, a knocking is heard at the front door, and the sound of shouted greeting follows.
Demeter turns toward the sound in frustration.
"Oh, that'll be Hermes for the delivery..." She makes her way to the door in her hurried, shuffling pace.
Usually, the weekly appearance of the messenger god is an unwelcome intrusion at best, but Persephone sighs in relief and mentally thanks the Fates for the interruption.
"I think I can endure his lewd comments and unwelcome advances today if it means I can sneak off to the Meadow without mother seeing." Persephone thinks to herself as she gulps down her goblet's contents. She wasn't really thirsty; she just didn't want to give her mother more reasons to be suspicious.
Mother opens the door, and Hermes lightly crosses the threshold in his winged sandals. His leering face appears around the doorframe.
The smile he directs toward her makes Persephone's back erupt in chills. He's so creepy.
Her mother never seemed to notice, which was always surprising to Persephone. Demeter could spy a speck of dirt in her pristine kitchen so fast, but Hermes's roving eyes on her daughter was never cause to worry. Demeter seemed to think Hermes' lewd smiles were ingratiating toward her, somehow.
Long gone were the days when Persephone thought asking her mother to keep him away would do any good, she never listened, so what was the point?
Apparently, the strain of having too much to do today and her only child acting strangely stopped short any good graces Demeter might have had left. Her words are clipped and scolding.
"You're early!" Hands are placed on hips, "I haven't finished packing! You'll have to wait!" Demeter disappears into the back of the house where extra food for Olympus is stored.
Demeter, and by extension, Persephone, both goddesses of plants and agriculture, were the deities entrusted with growing and creating the food the gods on Olympus ate and enjoyed. Nectar, Ambrosia, Golden apples, Cornucopia, etc. were picked up by Hermes every week and brought to their feasts like clockwork.
Hermes seems nonplussed by Demeter's harsh words and casually turns to Persephone still at her place at the breakfast table.
His smile widens and he winks disarmingly at her.
Persephone is repulsed. She scoffs and looks away.
Anger passes over his face for a moment, and he walks toward her, "What's with the attitude, Seph? Who pissed in your morning ambrosia?"
Persephone crosses her arms, "I didn't sleep well last night, if you must know."
His smile never fades, "I must. I gotta know everything, especially about such a beautiful, enticing goddess." His eyebrows wiggle suggestively, "Did you toss and turn all night, thinking about me?"
Persephone feels bile well up in the back of her throat.
"Gods, no."
Hermes' eyebrows knit together in anger again, "There's no cause for you to be such a bitch, Seph, it's ok when your mother does it, she's old and Zeus' sloppy seconds, but when it's you, it's just sad..."
It hurt every time he brought up her incestuous parentage, which is why he did it every chance he could.
Thinking quickly, she asks him, "You travel around a lot, right, Hermes?" Persephone desperately tries to change the conversation to a direction that she hopes will pay off in her favor.
Hermes is momentarily confused by her interruption but realizes the subject of her question is his favorite topic. Another smile erupts across his face.
"Well...yeah..." He puffs his chest out, placing his hands on his narrow waist. "I can travel wherever I want, sweet cakes. Why? You need me to carry you off? Wanna play hooky away from Mommy Dearest?"
Inwardly she is cringing but outwardly a smile to match his own shows on her lips.
"I was just wondering how many Chthonic deities you know. I hear some of them are tough to meet. Recluses, right?
He scoffs like it's nothing, "I'm friends with the Ruler of the Underworld to death itself, baby."
"Hades and Thanatos?"
"Oh yeah." He says, like it's something impressive.
Persephone artfully shrugs her shoulders. "So? That's just two. There's also Hypnos and Charon, right? What about Hecate? I heard from my aunt that Hecate hates you, won't even let you cross her doorstep…"
His smile falls. "Ok, one of those isn't even a god, babe, he's a lackey at best. And Hecate is a fucking liar. Whatever she says, I never touched her. I mean, who would? I got no time for easy tricks, you know?"
Persephone isn't listening, and the words tumble out of her mouth before she can think, the need to know outweighs natural caution, "Well, which one of them is really tall? With grey eyes and skin?"
His eyes narrow in suspicion. "You just described all of them, basically..."
While she struggles to think of another definitive description of the stranger, Hermes asks, "Is it a female deity you're asking about?"
Her eyes shift away from his increasingly narrow eyes, "No...", she evades.
He presses, "Is it a male one?"
"Maybe..."
"Is it both? I know a few..."
"No..."
A small smile appears on his face, "Who the fuck's been talking to you, Persephone?"
"Nobody! I was just curious..."
"Uh huh..." Hermes licks his lips in anticipation. He is an insatiable gossip.
Demeter hurries in with two enormous cornucopia baskets. Hermes backs up but never takes his eyes from Persephone. Demeter looks from her daughter's face to Hermes quizzically. "What on earth is going on here?" Without waiting for an answer, she says, "Hermes, here, they're ready..." She dumps both into his reluctant arms, anxiously wiping her hands on her apron, her eyebrows knitted in worry, trying to remember everything that needs to be done.
Hermes' ugly smile appears once again, "Your daughter was asking after the gods of the underworld..."
Persephone levels him with her eyes, and silently screams, "You're not going to try and get me in trouble!"
Demeter tilts her head toward Persephone, "Underworld gods? Why on earth would you care about the underworld gods?"
Persephone shrugs, "I don't..." she tries her hardest to look completely uncaring.
Suddenly, her mother freezes in place, eyes are bulging, her fingers splayed out in a figure of shock. "Oh no!" Demeter exclaims.
Persephone is momentarily worried, "Mother, what's wrong?" She always suspected Demeter was legitimately crazy, maybe she finally cracked up for good.
"I just remembered! I promised the Leimoniads that I would go and grow red poppy for them, they are in dire need of sleep medicine! How could I forget? They're probably on their way here right now!"
Persephone cannot believe her good luck. Without missing a beat, she speaks in the calmest voice she can muster, "There's no reason to worry, mother, I can go with the nymphs and grow the flowers just as easily as you. You won't miss out on your visit to dear Aunt Hestia. You promised her you'd see her, too, didn't you?"
Demeter's eyebrows knit in worry, "I did, but..." Her hands begin their involuntary wringing.
Hermes has been silently observing this entire discourse without taking his eyes from Persephone. They narrow in distrust, and he says, "Can't you grow your signature flowers here? What's the big deal?"
Inwardly Persephone cringes, "So much for subtle. He suspects me."
Demeter looks up at him in a start as if she forgot he was still there, then rolls her eyes in exasperation, "The big deal, nephew…!" She snaps, "Is that the soil near the underworld's entrance provides the best conditions for the most potent poppy flowers, everyone knows that! Now, I think it's time you were on your way, nephew, thank you for dropping by..." She takes him by the shoulders, and spins him around, bodily shoving him toward the front door, dictating instructions about the food in his arms the whole way. Hermes isn't listening to her; he's sneaking questioning glances back at Persephone. She avoids his eyes.
The front door opens, and Persephone immediately hears a chorus of female voices wishing her mother a good morning followed by uncontrolled giggling at the sight of Hermes, who tries to flex his arm muscles in response, despite holding the massive baskets.
"Looks like the nymphs are here," Persephone thinks to herself, rising from the table, smiling.
Demeter plasters a fake smile on her face and wishes them a good morning as well. She moves outside, freeing Persephone's means of escape.
Seeing her chance, she bolts for the front stoop, sliding past her mother, trying to get lost in the crowd of raucous nymphs. Demeter yells after her, trying to be heard over the din, "Wait a second, young lady, I never agreed to your going...!" Persephone fixedly avoids her mother, making her way to back and barely hears her raised voice, "You're not good on your own! What if you need my help?"
A few nymphs, insulted, cry back, "She won't be on her own!"
"Yeah!"
"She'll be with us!"
Arms cross and rolled eyes flash on a few nymph faces.
Seeing their vexation, Demeter quickly changes tack and begins explaining to the group at large that she will be sending her daughter in her place today. As if anyone cares.
The nymphs joyously greet Persephone, gently patting her shoulder in welcome. They're elated that she's going with them sans her irritating mother. Some are already glancing behind their shoulders, away, ready to be off.
Hermes flies through the throng, stopping beside Persephone. He leans down to speak low so no one else hears.
"Who's at the meadow, Persephone?"
"None of your business, Hermes."
"I make everything my business; stop playing coy."
Persephone rolls her eyes, wishing him away.
"I'm not playing anything! I wish you'd leave me alone."
"Fine." He shrugs, "I guess I'll just have to drop by the meadow later and find out what you're hiding for myself."
She turns to look him full in the face, her eyes full of fear, "Please don't."
He knows he's got her right where he wants her.
"See you later," He promises with one last evil smile.
Persephone stares after him as he takes flight, anger replacing worry and doubt.
"I'm not letting you ruin this for me, Hermes. No one will."
A nymph grabs Persephone's arm and pulls her along with the retreating throng into the forest. Her anger is quickly replaced with glee from the infectious attitude of the surrounding nymphs. She joins in their dancing and singing, elated on remembering that somehow, she found a way to meet him. Against all odds. She was on her way to the same meadow that, for just a few short hours ago, was an impossibility.
I mean, really? What were the odds?