I'll admit, when I wrote the first paragraph, I had Ron Burgundy's voice in my head "I have many... leather-bound books and my desk is made of rich mahogany."
Coconutmango: You should totally put your story back up. I had a hard time figuring out how to edit the chapters once posted. The process is a bit convoluted, I'll admit, but it's nice to be able to go back and touch up past chapters. You need to go to Doc Manager, edit the chapter, save it, then manage stories and upload/replace the old chapter with the new edit. Hope that helps, looking forward to seeing your writing, too!
Madame thome: Your succinct sentences always make me smile, thanks for the reviews
i: Never stop filling me in on what I can do to improve my work. An English major and three different editing systems can still miss simple nuances.
As usual, read and review, any questions or suggestions are welcome as well!
Enjoy!
Chapter 10: Familiarity
Paige walks a bit further down the hall and discovers three doors. Just as she lays her hand upon the first one, she hears voices from the third. Curiosity overcoming her, she finds herself sauntering over and eavesdropping on the conversation. She hears four male voices, only one of which is familiar, passing judgment and arguing over the fate of something or another. Stepping back, she opts instead to open the second door. Upon cracking it open and peering inside, she sees a room not unlike a study. Within the room were a velvet lounge chair and various leather bound books, messy scrolls and a motley of other documents scattered around every table and desk.
Letting out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, Paige enters the room and begins tidying up. As she cleans, she reads bits and pieces of whatever she picks up. Little of it was in English, but she could still fill in the blanks. She toils for quite a few hours, stopping every so often to become absorbed in a book, notably the more illustrated ones. In time, the room is back in order.
With her hands akimbo, Paige surveys the room with the intention of double-checking her work. Her gaze falls onto a lone scroll sticking out a bit further than the rest. Rather than forcing it back into place, she carefully plucks the scroll from the shelf and unrolls it upon the nearest table. The writing on the scroll was in an unfamiliar language, but the words were accompanied by colorful panoramic illustrations. Gazing upon the panels, she sees a lone, grey skinned man clad in armor, with a helm held under his arm.
"Hades," she whispers to herself.
The next panel shows a red haired maiden tending to flowers in a field.
"Persephone," she says, speaking softer than before.
Feeling a jolt of familiarity again, she continues. The next image shows the god abducting the maiden, flowers scattering across the field as the earth swallows them. The chariot that transports the couple is led by four horses. In the subsequent illustrations, she sees Hades offering Persephone his hand; lying within his hand were six seeds. The adjacent picture displays a landscape similar to the painting in her room, featuring barren trees covered in snow. The next illustration gives her pause; an impeccable depiction of her mother, wandering aimlessly as if searching.
She trails the string of artwork through the rest of the story, alternating between feelings of deep despair and renewed hope. Each drawing instills a new emotion. Eventually, the scroll depicts an elaborate throne room, wherein Persephone is wrapped up in the arms of a man. She can tell the man is not Hades. Suddenly, Paige is lulled into another vision.
She finds herself in a room with an empty throne and two stone chairs at the far end. Upon both chairs sits a man, trapped and partially encased in stone. This time she isn't watching as an outsider looking in, but as a participant. Above her stands an irate and jealous Hades, who has pinned her wrists above her head.
"Toying with mortal men? You underestimate my greed. You are my wife, bound to me for eternity, and yet you have forgotten your place as my queen." he says, snarling at her.
"Pirithous has learned his lesson. Lord husband, it is time to set him free," says Paige, though the words are not her own.
"The crime of lusting over the God of the Underworld's wife is not easily atoned for. Tell me, sweet wife, what were your plans if he decided to acquire you on his way to freedom?" asks Hades, staring stonily down at her, his hands refusing to relax their ever-tightening grip on her delicate wrists.
"He would not have dared to risk your ire a second time by attempting that," she retorts, meeting his gaze without fear.
"I can't decide which has me more incensed. Your decision to sabotage my judgment of this pitiful mort-"
"He is not pitiful!" Interjects Persephone, gasping as soon as she says it.
Hades leans down slowly, his lips pressing against her ear as he murmurs softly into it.
"Humour your husband, my dearest pet. What was it you just said?" He nuzzles the warm column of his wife's throat, his rage barely restrained as he inhales the perfume of her skin.
"I'm versed in this game too well, my lord," she murmurs softly, voice subdued and tinged with the smallest amount of pain as one of his hands drops down to tangle in her wild hair and forces her face to gaze up at him.
"You belong to me, and I to you. Nevertheless, this is my decision. He will atone as I deem fit, and I will never share you with a mortal such as your dear Pirithous. Oh, and let us not forget Adonis. No man, be he mortal or god, will ever acquire a taste of you." His grip tightens in her hair, eliciting a cry from the goddess as his lips ghost over her jawline.
"Do not cross me again, my lady."
"What about Minthe?" she supplies in her defense. "You are not without your own admirers."
"Has she yet been able to escape your punishment?" inquires Hades, catching Persephone's earlobe between his teeth.
She arches and whimpers, cooing sweetly at him as she mewls a soft response.
"Your point is made, lord husband." says Persephone.
"Never thwart my verdict again. Remember this, my queen: your pride and greed are as terrible as my own. However, I have methods of correcting your behaviour that will leave you speechless and blushing for years to come. This is not an idle threat, my pet, it's a promise."
Hades draws his wife against his chest, crushing her against him as she clutches the front of his robes. A fine quiver runs through her body, betraying her vexation with him.
"Be calm, my Persephone," he says in a soothing tone. "I fully expect retribution from you and I will gladly accept your fury. Still, I will not permit anyone, be they a mortal man or petulant goddess, to steal a single day of my brief few months with you. I will never share."
Her fiery countenance gives way to a deeply serene expression. She presses her lips against the cooled underside of his jaw as the last of her outrage melts away.
"I understand," she murmurs, feeling the brush of her husband's mouth against the top of her head.
Paige snaps out of her reverie once again, with unfamiliar aching on her earlobe and her wrists. After rubbing her wrists a bit, she rolls the scroll back up and places it on the shelf.
Soon, her stomach begins to growl at her and she scans the room for where she had left the pomegranate. Upon locating it, she meticulously and with determination claws and rips at the flesh; her efforts ultimately prove themselves ineffective. She brings the white pith up to her mouth, giving it an experimental nip, the bitter taste causing her mouth to warp into a moue of disgust. As she reaches over to set it down, a cold hand stops her and takes the fruit gently from her fingers.
"That's not the part you eat," says Hades. "Allow me to assist you."
Hades cracks the fruit open with little difficulty, exposing the dark maroon seeds inside and plucks out a half dozen. He palms the seeds and holds them out to her.
"Here, I promise it's unlike anything you've ever tasted in this lifetime."