With the bitter taste of dirt on her lips, Persephone awoke in a large plush chair. The red velvet cradling her entire body as lay in a slump position, pressure applied to her broken ankle. Mud plastered most of her body, but had dried in a crusty plaster that flaked off when she moved. The blood in her nails had also dried and stained her dress. Balancing her weight on her elbows she leaned forward, blinking until her eyes focused, her head pounding in her head.

She jumped when she saw a lady examining her foot before her, bent down her eyes and hands at work on her ankle. Her white hair covering her face like a curtain. Her skin was almost translucent; even more so when compared to the dark tan skin of Persephone. Hypnotic eyes captured Persephone; she had never seen such eyes; purple and blue molding together in a haze but the depth behind them was intense...

"Uh, sorry? Who are you?" Persephone squeaked, her voice soar from all the screaming earlier. She almost pulled her feet away, but a flash of pain ignited so she remained still in this woman's hands.

The lady lifted her head slowly, "I am Hecate, my dear."

"Oh," Persephone frowned. She was hoping for more information than that. "As in the sorceress?"

"Yes. As in the sorceress." She echoed. She didn't say any more and Persephone was hoping, as she waited, that more information would be delivered. But no.

Persephone felt her stress levels rising, but she took a deep breath before asking, "where am I?"

"Your waiting room."

"No, I mean – what?"

She returned her gaze to Persephone's foot, reaching inside a bag Persephone hadn't noticed was there. As she pulled out a long, slender, silver tool, she explained "this is your waiting room. The next room is your bedroom. But," she continued, steadying the tool near Persephone's foot, "we're in the Underworld," she plunged the knife into her ankle. Persephone yelped loudly, grunting when she nudged it further in. "That's what you wanted to know, really."

Persephone narrowed her eyes at her with clenched teeth.

"Relax, my dear, I am helping you." She whispered, her hands gently running up and down her leg.

"Yeah, it seems like it!" Persephone said through gritted teeth.

With a quick glance at Persephone, Hecate rose her finger and pressed it against her lips to say "shhh" before placing her fingertips against Persephone's ankle. Hecate gripped the tool with one hand, the other making a spider-like form on her foot. Warmth spread through Persephone's ankle, heat rising so much she could actually feel the cold of the metal tool grazing her bone. Persephone relaxed a little. That was when Hecate yanked the tool out...

Hades paced his room. Did she hate him? Was she still in pain? One look in the mirror at his scarred face told him it was a bad first impression.

Upon landing in the Underworld, to which he entered usually through the cave, he noticed his passenger had fallen limp against him. Servants came to take care of the horses and the carriage but he insisted on carrying Persephone himself.

She was very different now to when she was in the forest: blood splattered her white dress, mud smeared every inch of her and her ankle had swollen at least twice the size. Frowning, he knew he was to blame for her state. His pace quickened. How would he seem to her now?

Once across Styx and through the doors of his palace, he placed Persephone in the care of Hecate who seemed disappointed in Hades as soon as she saw the state of the girl in his arms. Truly, he hadn't meant to cause any suffering.

It felt like hours now since he'd placed her in her chair and left. One last look at her and he knew he was doomed. She couldn't love him now. Never. Not after this. But, she could like him... He was sure of that.

Persephone, now with a bandaged ankle, was clean. It seemed like she never would be, freeing her hair from the hard and dusty mud. But there she was, wearing a ruby red gown that hugged her chest and waist before flowing down to the floor. She felt like a queen. Admiring herself in the mirror, she couldn't help but feel older.

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.

She opened it to a translucent, gaunt figure. Their wide eyes stared passed her.. "Who are you?" she blurted rather rudely.

"I am Philip... a servant of Lord Hades." Their voice floated quietly as Persephone stared in horror. "He requests for your presence at dinner."

"Well, tell him no," she snapped. Crossing her arms, she stared down the ghost. She made him jump at that (obviously previous guests were more polite or submissive) but she knew her place here: She was a guest. And servants couldn't argue with guests. Only Lords...

"No, your Ladyship?" The ghosts eyes turned on her. Persephone felt goosebumps rise on her arms but she maintained her stare. It was then she realised he was actually floating. His feet didn't touch the floor; he floated above it; hovering!

"No." Why should she go? Hades kidnapped her. "If he wants to talk, he should have thought about that before he kidnapped me." With that, she slammed the door in the ghosts face.

With a deep breath, she leaned on the door, her heart pounding.

A/N: I love reading your reviews!