Part I: Hades

Punish us, O Lord, but with equity,

not in anger, lest you have us dwindle away.

~ Jeremiah 10:24, New American Bible

Hades did not know how long he spent kneeling on the courtroom floor, curled up in the fetal position, holding his head in his hands as he wept. It was enough time for Zeus to make a swift exit, for Apollo to follow him angrily, and for most of the spectators to disperse, expressing their consternation to each other.

Hecate was the one who finally approached the broken king. She bent down on one knee and laid a hand on his shoulder, but she did not immediately speak. Instead, she picked up one of the roses on the floor, and nudged Hades' arm with her cupped hand. He reluctantly lifted his head to look at her, his eyes bloodshot and his cheeks tearstained. Hecate held the flower out to him, and after a moment's hesitation he took it with a trembling hand. The bloom would not last long, they knew from experience, but it was something of Persephone, and right now he needed as much of her as he could get.

Not everyone was in a hurry to leave. Several people wanted to talk to Hades, including Hera and Poseidon; but Hecate held them off, knowing that he was in no mood to talk to anyone.

The only one who managed to get past her was Hebe, who slipped through the adults' legs and stood in front of her uncle. She had never seen him so distraught. She looked at his face, and then at the flower in his hand. Then she stepped forward and wrapped her little arms around Hades' neck. His avuncular instinct was strong enough that he was able to pat her back; the next thing he knew, he was clutching her as his tears redoubled and sobs wracked his frame again.

"I'm not gonna let go until you stop crying," Hebe declared with stubborn resolution.

Hearing this, Hecate finally let Hera and Poseidon through: she knew better than to keep a mother from her child. The queen knelt beside Hades and Hebe. "You have to let go, sweetie," she said quietly. "At least for now."

Hades looked at her over Hebe's shoulder, his eyes filled with despair. Then he lowered them and sighed, "She's right, Hebe." He gently took her hands and drew them away from him.

Hebe studied him for a moment. She had seen and heard a lot in the past hour that she had not understood. She would have a lot of questions for her parents when she got home, but now she addressed one to her uncle. "Do you love Persephone?"

Hades sucked in a breath. There was no point in denying it, and he no longer cared whether people knew. "Yes. I do."

"Does she know?"

"Yes. I just—I just told her, now."

"Good." Hebe seemed satisfied, and said with authority, "If people love each other, they should tell them."

Hera intervened before the silence following that statement could turn awkward. She took Hebe back into her arms, and Poseidon took Hades' hand and pulled him to his feet.

Poseidon had been silent throughout most of the trial, except for an occasional comment. But now he met Hades eye to eye and said earnestly, "I'm sorry, brother. I didn't expect things to go this way."

Hades nodded once. That was the only acknowledgement he could give. He was not exactly angry with Poseidon, but rather disappointed that he had not done more to help. Even if Zeus had ultimately ignored him, it would have been nice to have another king as an ally.

Hera turned to Hecate and inclined her head to indicate Hades. "You'll see him home?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Good." Resting Hebe on her hip, the queen faced Hades again and touched his cheek. Despite how upset she was, her eyes were tender. "We'll talk soon. We'll figure something out." Then her expression became fierce. "Zeus can't keep you two apart forever."

Hades stared at her stupidly, but before he could formulate a question, she followed Poseidon and his wife outside.

Eros came up briefly, still reeling from the dramatic and unexpected events that had just taken place. His posture was awkward, but his gaze was full of compassion. "Your Majesty? I just wanted to say, I know your pain, and if there's anything I can do—anything in my power—you can reach out to me."

Hades hardly had energy to answer, but Hecate nodded. "Thank you, Eros. That's very magnanimous of you."

The young god rubbed his neck, looking away. "I'd tell Persephone the same, if I could. Anyway …" He gestured to the exit. "I'm gonna go check on Artemis. She's probably more berserk than usual after all this."

Hecate had to guide Hades out of the building, waving off the reporters who shouted questions and shielding him from the flashing cameras. She buckled Hades into the passenger seat and drove him back to the Underworld. He barely looked out the window during the journey; any attention he had at this point was focused on protecting the fragile flower cradled his hands.

He felt weaker than he had ever been before, and it was not just due to his prolonged time away from the Underworld. He might regain some strength upon his return, but this ache—this grief—would still weigh him down. He wondered if this was at all similar to how Atlas felt—but Atlas got to hold the entire world, whereas Hades felt as though he had just lost it. A ridiculous notion, he knew. The Underworld was literally, officially, his world. He just wasn't content with a world that did not have the presence of, or at least contact with, the Goddess of Spring.

Once they reached his house, Hecate ushered him inside and sat him down on the sofa. "I'll make you something to drink," she told him, heading for the kitchen.

That was when Hades found his voice: "No alcohol." As much as he would have liked to escape how he felt right now, he did not want to risk forgetting what had just transpired—his most recent, and therefore, in a sense, his last memories of Persephone.

"The time I've spent with you has been the happiest I've ever been."

He supposed that was one good thing he had done in his two thousand years of existence. He had made a lonely, grieving, melancholic woman feel happy. He did not think he had made anyone other than his mother truly happy.

Hecate returned with two mugs of a warm beverage whose thickness was somewhere between tea and hot chocolate. "It's supposed to help soothe your sorrow," she explained, handing him a mug as she sat down with him.

Hades looked down dubiously at the liquid. "Does it work?"

"Depends on the person, and whether they're open to being soothed."

That gave him a moment's pause. His present pain was evidence of his love, and he did not want to lose that. But Persephone would not want him to be in pain. Conversely, if she was in pain, he would want her to avail herself to whatever would relieve it. So he accepted the drink and took small sips, acclimating to the taste and temperature.

It was only then, over their steaming cups, that they spoke of the trial and the sentence.

"I feel like I failed her," Hades said. That feeling was becoming more and more routine for him.

"Don't go blaming yourself," Hecate scolded. "You did everything you could. None of us could have predicted what Zeus did. I don't think even he knew what he would do."

Hades' voice was hard. "He always wanted to make an example of Persephone. I knew that. I thought I could mitigate that."

"You probably succeeded on that front," Hecate pointed out. "Yeah, her sentence is harsh and the terms are unfair, but Zeus might have come up with something much worse."

Hades was not sure about that. The only good thing he could see in the arrangement was that it ensured that Persephone and Apollo would be separated. Perhaps Zeus had some kernel of wisdom after all. But it might just as likely have been motivated by his own selfish interests.

In every other respect, the sentence completely disregarded Persephone's wellbeing. Zeus knew from Hermes' testimony that Persephone had craved company in the Mortal Realm. How could he be so cruel as to deprive her of the company of her mother and the friends she had made in Olympus and the Underworld?

And even if Zeus was completely indifferent to Persephone … Hades had thought that Zeus cared about his family, at the very least. He should have wanted to avoid causing them pain. Zeus was not an empathetic being, but he had to know that he was hurting his brother through this arrangement.

"I don't want to be alone. I won't be alone, will I?"

Perhaps Zeus had sincerely not known how lonely Hades would be as King of the Underworld. Surely anything had to be better than being isolated inside Kronos. But Zeus was fully aware how much his brother cared about Persephone, and in the end it had not mattered to him.

Hades sighed, pressing one hand against his forehead. "Somehow, in the midst of all this, I never really considered that we might lose—that she wouldn't be around, or at least able to visit, when it was over."

There was so much the two of them had not done yet. They had talked about someday going on a proper date, arrogantly assuming that everything would be normal after the trial. "Think it over," he had said. "We've got all the time in the world." He had even promised to take her to Sicily, taking for granted their ability to travel between the realms. Would they ever have the chance now?

"It's not forever," Hecate reminded him, gentle but insistent. "You'll see each other again."

But when? How long would it take for Persephone to gain control of her powers? When would Zeus be satisfied with her results? After what had unfolded today, Hades could not trust anything left to his younger brother's judgment.

"Do you think she can do it?" Hades asked.

"Of course." Hecate spoke as though it were obvious, with no room for doubt. "Persephone has been an achiever her whole life. She can do whatever she sets her mind to. And for this task, she has two significant motivators: her mother, and you."

"I don't doubt her abilities," Hades said coolly, miffed at the implication that he did. "What I doubt is Zeus' judgment of them."

"Ah. That's fair." Hecate took a sip and frowned as she lowered her mug. "He's been unpredictable through this whole thing—which I wouldn't mind, except for how it's affecting you and Persephone. He's either being completely illogical—which makes me question his mental state—or he has some motive we don't know about."

Hades had other concerns as well. "What if Persephone overworks herself, and goes into hibernation? What if she has another episode of wrath, and has no one there to calm her down? Without any of the gods—"

"She'll have her nymphs," Hecate pointed out.

But she would not have the support of other gods. She would have companions to stave off her loneliness, but none of them were her equal in power or intellect, and Hades doubted that any of them could protect her as Demeter had, or as he had.

While Hades brooded, Hecate pulled out her phone and checked the news. "If it's any consolation, you seem to have a lot of support from the public. People like Persephone, and after seeing what you did for her in the trail, they support you being together."

Hades blinked. "Really?"

Hecate smiled at his incredulity. "On the surface, you may be an odd couple, but you're good together." She stood up and stretched. "I'm going to make some calls before the company decides to strike."

Once Hecate left the room, the dogs felt comfortable enough to venture in. Hades petted them absentmindedly, more out of habit than anything else. Fudge and Meli whined, and Hades realized, with a pang, that they were wondering where Persephone was. Evidently, he was not the only one who had attached himself to her.

She had become such a fixture of his life lately. What was he to do now, without her to look out for and spend time with?

He supposed he could throw himself into his work, and try to distract himself. But she had touched so many places and objects, he knew he would constantly run into reminders of her.

Abruptly, he got up and started checking each of the reminders, making sure they had not vanished along with her. The handkerchief she had given him that morning was still in the pocket of his jacket. Her tree still stood tall atop Tower 4. Her belongings, many of them accumulated during their shopping spree, were still in the guest bedroom. Her phone was still in her purse, and it still held the photo of the two of them. The ledger produced during the trial was still in his briefcase.

When Hades found this last item, he took it back to the sofa and started leafing through the pages about the Underworld. Had it been only last night that they talked about her ideas?

"When does the punishment happen?"

"There is no punishment; that's the point."

"So the punishment is more like impending and all-consuming guilt? It's more psychological and less physical."

Hades groaned as the full irony washed over him.

Even before he learned about her destructive episode, Persephone had shown an aversion to punishment when they argued about the paparazzo that photographed them. She had spoken about it in terms of reputation, but … maybe the real reason she was willing to forgive others was because she also wanted forgiveness.

Maybe Persephone was right. Maybe there was a need for change. No one was guiltless, but there was room for mercy. Hades had not been able to comprehend that until now, when someone he loved needed it.

He looked at the pictures Persephone had drawn of herself and the shades, growing and tending plants in the Underworld. It was a marvel that anyone could imagine such incredible things.

"You see things not for what they are, but for what they could be."

Now all her hopes for herself and the Underworld would be on hold, until she proved herself as the goddess of spring and the harvest. Hades could not help her with that … but these plans were one thing he could help her with.

Hecate poked her head back into the room, holding up her cell phone. "Should I let the office know you'll be out for a few days?"

Hades closed the ledger and tucked it under his arm as he stood up. "Yes—but they're not for vacation."

She frowned, unconvinced. "You know, it's not often used, but we do have bereavement leave in everyone's contracts. You could claim some time."

Hades smiled faintly at her concern. "No. I'll work from home."

However long it took Persephone to complete her service, Hades would be ready when she returned. He would not implement any changes without her, but he could lay the groundwork for them. Then, when she came back to the Underworld, she would be able to carry them out herself.

Author's Notes

I finally read Lore Olympus after finding the first 25 chapters in book form at the library. After that, I binge-read the rest of the comic online, up to the present day, which left off at the mid-season 2 break. That finale inspired me to write this, and I wanted to share it before Rachel Smythe resumes updates. I actually got FFN to add Lore Olympus as a category in the comics section by sending a request for it!

I named this piece after the duet sung by Hades and Persephone in Hadestown by Anais Mitchell. In both stories, Hades is gripped with anxiety about when—and whether—Persephone will return to him.

I realize it may seem odd to use an epigraph from the Bible in a story about the Greek gods, but I've realized that punishment is a kind of recurring theme in the comic, and I wanted to explore that in this piece.

I'm hoping to do a second chapter from Persephone's point of view, showing her reaction at the same point in the story. Beyond that, I don't know if I'll write anything else for Lore Olympus, but I have many other fanfics related to myths and fairy tales if you want to check those out!