Forbidden Fruit

'Hades, do you like your job?' I asked him when we were done re-decorating the palace the way I liked it. We were sitting on the now silver thrones with the red garlands above them, Hades fashioning a crown for me out of silver, studded with black jewels. I had to admit to myself that I much preferred the somber colors of gray, black, silver, white and occasionally crimson red to the diverse selection that those earthly flowers came in. Everything was so much more…straightforward here. It did seem a little gloomy, with all those dead people, but Hades brightened it and inside the palace nothing could touch me.

'Hmm?' he mumbled, his eyes intent on the crown he was fashioning and his hands working away busily. I knew he could have just summoned one of his numerous servants to do it for him or found a silversmith out of the dead in the Elysian Fields, but he wanted to make the crown himself so I could wear it and think of him. I smiled, my dangling legs banging against the front of the throne rhythmically as I watched him work.

'I said, do you like your job?' I repeated, pretending to be exasperated but really not finding myself able to feel anything other than a rapidly waxing happiness, sitting so close to Hades. He was the lord of the dead and yet I felt the most alive around him. Strange.

Hades looked up from his work and his dark, depthless eyes met mine. His blood-red lips curled into a smile and his head full of black hair leaned to one side, his dark-skinned hands pausing and letting the crown drop into his lap. 'What was that, Seph?' he asked me teasingly, fully aware that I had asked him the same question twice already. But really, I didn't think he'd heard.

'Do you like your job, Hades?' I asked him for the third time, looking around the throne-room where we sat with interest, my blue-eyes taking in everything. The silver-threaded tapestries depicting different heroic scenes from the old myths like the twelve labors of Heracles, the slaying of Medusa and the liberation of the twelve Athenian youths from the Minotaur hanging on the black walls, which were decorated with interesting spirals in a shade only slightly lighter than that of the rest of the walls, the silver chandelier, with its raindrop-like ornaments hanging down and chinking lightly in the slight breeze that came in through the red-rimmed windows to the left and right of the huge, silver-marble door which was firmly closed. I could see my reflection in a large, rectangular and stretched-out silver, red-rimmed mirror parallel to the thrones. Did Hades like all this?

'My job?' he mused, his eyes locked onto my face intently as though it were beautiful or something, though to him it probably was. What could he possibly see in me anyway? I was so imperfect, so short, so young. My blue eyes were not appealing in the least, I knew, my red-brown curls which sometimes shone in the sunlight that didn't exist here were nothing to swoon over, and my pale, freckled face was not lovely. But to him, he who was in love with me, I was beautiful. The thought warmed me as none other could. Beautiful. Me. Persephone. Beautiful.

'Yes, your job, Hades,' I reminded him as his face moved slowly closer to mine and his dark eyes filled with love. I felt like I was melting. But I wanted this question answered and wouldn't give up. Perhaps I had many bad qualities, like my inability to adore my mother and my passionate hate of all that 'beauty' up on the surface that my mother lived for, but one thing no one could deny was that I was stubborn. I rejoiced in a challenge and I would always persevere. Mind you, that didn't mean I was patient.

'What do you mean by "my job"?' Hades inquired, his eyes half closed and his voice barely more than a murmur. Amused, I rapped my knuckles against his forehead to stop his approach and he sat back in his throne with a humph. I grinned at him mischievously as he pretended to pout. I knew he wouldn't pout for long. And I knew nothing I did could dissuade his love for me. What comforting knowledge! I could just be, I could just act like…me. And he would like it!

'Your job, your job, your job, Hades! Do you like being here, in the Underworld, the realm of the dead, all the time? Do you like supervising the installment of torture for someone who deserves it? Do you like to tend to the dead? Do you like your palace, your life, your existence?' This time he could not ignore me, passionately as I had repeated the question for the fifth time.

Hades looked at me thoughtfully, his arms, clad in long black sleeves, resting peacefully in his lap, encircling the crown he was crafting precisely for me protectively. 'No. I didn't. It wasn't enough and I didn't appreciate my life, my existence as you say. But when I found you…Yes. I do, I do appreciate my life and existence, all because of your life and existence, Persephone, Kore. You are my life, my existence. What would I do without you?' This time, when he leaned in to kiss me I let him, and I returned it just as gratefully as he gave it.

(…)

'Kore? Love? Sweet? Flower? Daffodil? Tulip? Rose? Are you there, dearest?' the melodious voice rang out in the clearing. A youthful woman with golden curls and melting-blue eyes walked delicately through row upon row of rippling, colorful flowers in full bloom, clutching a bouquet to her large chest and calling out in a singsong voice, her tread a dance. It was no wonder everyone revered her, Demeter, Goddess of the Harvest. And she rejoiced in their reverence. Demeter was a happy, carefree Goddess. Most of the time.

'Oh, Kore, come on, come out! I picked a bouquet of purple-and-blue flowers, your favorites! Oh, wait; are the red-and-white ones your favorites? Or the yellow-and-green ones? Kore, come out come out wherever you are!' Demeter kept going through the field of varied flowers until she found herself at the end. Looking back, the Goddess realized that her beloved daughter was not in the field. 'Drat, where could the girl be?' Demeter muttered to herself, threading one of the pink flowers through her golden hair and fashioning an elaborate flower-crown out of the rest as she walked on. 'Persephone, if you do not come out this moment…!' she threatened weakly, finally reaching the little cottage where she and her daughter stayed. Persephone was clearly not there.

Demeter went on to look through the rest of the fields surrounding their cottage and came back with nothing. Her distress beginning to rise alarmingly, she went past the blooming fields, and, dressing herself as an old lady, began to question the farmers whether they had seen a girl of Persephone's description. No, was their constant answer.

Truly worried now and beginning to verge on frantic, Demeter took a carriage pulled by beautiful white doves to Olympus. Entering the throne-room she cast off her disguise and confronted Zeus, her beautiful features stretched taut with worry. 'Zeus, it seems your daughter has gone missing! I cannot find her anywhere!' she cried out to the king of the gods, her voice shrill and frantic.

Zeus, lounging in a care-free manner on his golden throne, hurled one of his famous thunderbolts at the opposite wall and smiled when it hit the intended target. 'My aim has gotten no worse over the years!' he declared to no one in particular. And then he turned his gaze to Demeter. 'What did you say, dear? That one of my daughters is missing? Oh dear, which one?'

Zeus didn't seem concerned in the least.

'She is my daughter too; Persephone, dearest Kore, is missing! Missing! You must do something, Zeus, you must find her!' Demeter was truly distressed; her hands on her curls as though ready to tear them out, she glared at Zeus with imploring blue eyes, and then dropped to her knees pleadingly. 'Please! Kore is my life, my existence! What will I do without her?'

'Now now, Demeter, no need to get frantic. I'm sure she'll turn up sometime, somewhere. Why, just last week Athena started getting nervous when she thought Nike had gone missing, and then we found her stuck in a vase! (She was perfectly fine, no need to fret.) Imagine! I'm sure your daughter will turn up. Just relax, take a cup of mint tea…that helped Athena, I dare say. Now be on your way, Demeter. I have some more target-practice to do, and then Poseidon's taking me to those marvelous hot-springs he discovered…'

Zeus was clearly not going to help. Anxious and worried, Demeter left the throne-room on Olympus, deciding that she would not help the farmers grow their crops, would send pestilence and draught on their fields, until her daughter was found and returned.