I pace the length of my chamber, frustrated and angry at the fates for weaving this possibility into my existence.

For three hours I have sought a means of escape, using all the power I possess to find a way to freedom.

At last exhausted I sink onto the bed and once more survey my surroundings.

In spite of my desperate situation I cannot help but admire my prison.

For the first time since my arrival I gaze at the rich furnishings, and the drapes of velvet as dark as night that shroud the windows.

The furniture is of cedar, intricately carved and elegant, and robes woven of the finest cloth hang ready for me to use.

The bright flash of pearl catches my attention, and I am drawn towards the table where a box of carved oak rests.

Its surface is inlaid with mother of pearl, and as I lift the lid my breath catches in wonder.

Spread out before me are jewels of exquisite beauty. My fingers reach out to caress their brightness, and my soul glories in the feast of color lord Hades has offered for my enjoyment.

I gaze at the blood red rubies, set beside the clear fire of diamonds, deep blue of sapphires and the cool green of emeralds.

Hair combs of silver, gold and ivory, rings and bracelets fashioned from finely wrought gold cause me to gasp in awe at their elegance and beauty.

Chains of bright gold and silver, set with precious stones catch the light of the torches set at intervals throughout the room.

This is surely a chamber fit for a queen, and yet it brings me no joy.

If only I could have chosen my groom, I might have found the strength to reconcile myself to the marriage my father has arranged with lord Hades.

Instead I am taken against my will, forced to be queen of a realm which is stifling and crushing my essence.

I am not meant for this life, where nothing flourishes in the dark save the anguished cries of souls tormented and the echoes of those bound to an existence devoid of warmth and joy.

I have seen the kingdom my groom rules, and though I cannot help but admire his effortless control over his power and his determination to deal justly with all under his care, I refuse to be forced to take up the mantle of queen.

He comes to me every evening, offering me riches and the gift of his passion, but I cannot give what he most desires.

I want to return his love, to show him that I appreciate his kindness and concern for my welfare, but am held back by sorrow, stubbornness and the longing for my gentle mother.

Since the moment of my birth she and I have shared an extraordinary bond, one which has grown in depth and complexity as I grow and learn to master my power.

It is a kinship of mind and essence beyond mortal words to describe, a deep awareness of the other's thoughts bound by our love and power over the earth and her riches.

And its loss is what is slowly killing me, even more than my absence from the sun lit lands.

Nor can I ignore the constant pangs of hunger, something which as a goddess is a new experience.

Servants are sent to tempt me with dishes of the finest food at the breaking of dawn and the noon hour, but I always turn away their entreaties that I eat with polite refusal.

But the evenings are the worst, where I am asked to join my lord in the throne room and he escorts me to a table set with gold and crystal.

He lays out the banquet before me, and I long to partake of the rich fare. Roasted meats and fruits, golden bread and blood red wine, each calls to me to take, devour and glory in their taste and the nourishment they will bestow on my exhausted body.

But I know the unwritten law. Anyone who eats the food of the dead can never return to the world above.

These feasts are fast becoming a sweet torture, all the more intense because I know lord Hades desires nothing more than my comfort.

Even now that hour is drawing close, and automatically I reach out to select some jewels to wear to the feast.

He would want me to wear one of his gifts.

My eyes are drawn to a necklace of sapphires set amidst a chain of delicate golden strands.

A fresh upwelling of grief renders me breathless for an instant, for this rich gift reminds me of the beauty of the morning sky.

I lift it from its resting place with a sigh of mingled longing and sorrow.

If I cannot gaze upon the glory of Eos, at least I have something to remind me of the splendor of her presence.

I fasten the necklace about my throat, hating its cold lifeless weight.

Many a princess would be overjoyed to wear such exquisite jewels, but to me they are a harsh reminder of the power of death which rules this realm.

Yet still they are of the earth, taken from deep within her bosom, a reflection of the living riches which clothe her in matchless beauty.

I must learn to be content with that thought.

My final selection is a delicate circlet fashioned of gold. It too awakens fresh pangs of longing, for it is shaped into the semblance of leaves and flowers, and the stalks of grain which answer to my mother's gentle coaxing alone.

It is even the same warm gold as her hair, rich and deep, the color of corn ready for the harvest.

Carefully I let its weight settle amidst my dark tresses, before leaving my chamber with faltering steps.

He meets me in the throne room; eyes alight with desire and the hope that I might return his affection.

I let him escort me to the feast, suppressing the urge to abandon all courtesy and devour the dishes he has selected.

My resistance is weakening as the sight and smell of each dish urges me to surrender, and it is only the fading strength of my resolve to touch nothing offered by the lord of this realm which helps me to remain unmoved.

Once again he refuses my request for freedom, and though we move on to other topics of discussion his answer causes fresh sorrow to well up within my essence.

If only I had not been taken against my will, how much I would have enjoyed the companionship of this intriguing and intelligent god, the challenge of persuading my mother to at least hear his offer before rejecting his petition for my hand.

Instead I am forced to remain prisoner, and it is only my memories of the world above which help to sustain my spirit and armor me against the first stirrings of friendship and something else I dare not name.

The evening over I return to my chamber. And in the deep hours of the night I call out to my mother, in the hopes that soon I will be free to choose my own destiny.

Silence greets my plea, and I wearily draw the curtains around my bed, welcoming as never before the gentle embrace of Morpheus.

Note from the authoress: I'm going to cover the rest of the story when I write Hades' perspective, and perhaps Zeus will make an appearance if I can find the inspiration to tackle his part in this tale.

I'm still toying with the idea of making this story into a series with different figures of Greek legend sharing their stories, so if anyone would like me to do that instead of just Hades and Persephone's story let me know.

Hope you all enjoyed the chapter.

Reviews are always welcome.

Thanks for reading.