How did they start? What did they do?
Where all good deals started.
Background information.
Truth.
From one of the shelves, he pulled free a number of books that he'd set aside earlier in the day, then walked over to where Orpheus sat and stacked them beside him one by one.
Greek Mythology, an Introduction.
Tales of the Ancients.
Poems of the Gods.
Georgics.
Metamorphoses.
Symposium.
Orpheus and Eurydice.
The Tale of Orpheus and Eurdice his Quene.
One by one, he let them stack onto each other with a loud thump. And one by one, he watched as the size of Orpheus's eyes grew.
"You asked if I'd read your tale. I have. It shows up quite a bit," he explained as Orpheus picked up Georgics. This version was in Latin, but he noted that after flipping through the pages, he finally arrived at Virgil's Book IV, "The Death of Eurydice," and stared at it. That told him something. Foolish he may have been, but he was educated. And if the tales were right, probably quite old.
"Truth is the most important, most essential piece to making a good deal. I've read all these tales, but each one is a little different. You say your love ended up here because she was bitten by a snake, but in one version, she makes a deal with Hades, and in another, she died dancing with Naiads on her wedding day. Some say you are reunited in hell others call it a trick of Hades. Some versions you live, other versions you die. But I need to know the truth. I need the true story to know precisely what I'm working with. Only then can I be truly of service to you."
Slowly Orpheus was turning Greek Mythology, an introduction over in his hand. He opened it, looked at a picture, and ran his fingers over it tenderly…he thought for a moment the boy might start to weep, but then he closed the book and took another in his hand. "These are all about us?"
"Stories," he corrected for emphasis. "Let's say they were inspired by you, but they don't tell the truth about you. I should know; you should see what's been written about me."
Orpheus swallowed again as he stacked the books, one on top of the other again. "So we start by-"
"You telling me the truth about who you are and what happened to lead us here."
"It's Persephone. It starts with her, not me," he explained. "Most know the story."
"I want to hear your version."
The boy nodded and reached for his lyre.
"Preferably without song and verse."
Orpheus paused, his lyre settled in his arms. "Sir, music is the only way I know to tell the story…"
He fought the urge to roll his eyes but recalled the flowers he'd seen earlier. He wondered if they'd grow here, in Belle's library. He wondered if they'd be roses. And so he nodded.
"Very well then. So long as it's the truth. Not riddle. Not metaphor. Truth."
The boy nodded, then looked at his lyre and began to pick out notes and chords. He began a gentle sway and rock in time with the music, a sway that he fought with all his might as the boy began to sing a few more of those "la's" he'd sung before, at the bus stop. Oh, he'd never been one for music, but even he could admit it was beautiful.
After a few bars, Orpheus looked back up at him.
"Once there was a girl who brought warmth and light to the world," Orpheus spoke to his amazement. "And in a field of daisies and bluebells, Hades first laid eyes on her, weaving the spring flowers into a crown for her hair. They say it only took that one look for Hades to fall in love with her. So he stole her from her world above and took her to his world below without questioning who she might have been, without realizing…
"Persephone was the daughter of a goddess. And when the goddess learned that her daughter had been kidnapped, she was angry. But being a lesser god to Hades, she was unable to rescue her daughter entirely. She appealed to his emotions, let him see her daughter cry, let him see her cry. Hades could not endure it, so a deal was struck. Persephone would be in the land of the living, with her mother, for six months of the year and with Hades for the other six. For six months, the world would know light and warmth, it would know flowers and harvest. And for the other six, there would be cold and famine and darkness."
"She brings about the cycle of seasons on earth," he commented. That part of the tale he knew.
Orpheus nodded. And, as if he was happy that he'd figured it out, launched into another chorus allowing the music to crescendo in the dark room. It made his heart warm so much that he didn't hardly mind the theater of it at all.
"But there was a flaw in Hades' plan," Orpheus continued. "Persephone hated him. She missed her mother, missed the world above, and missed the spring. Hades tried harder. He allowed her to grow a garden, and allowed her to walk among the people. He believed that with time she'd come to love him, that he could make her love him."
He sighed in sympathy as the boy's music turned sour. He'd never known a woman to respond well to being made to love someone, especially when she despised them already.
"So, Hades began to ignore the subtleties of his own deal, knowing that he was stronger than both Persephone and her mother. Each year he came earlier and earlier. And each year, he kept her later and later, always thinking that just one more day might make all the difference. And so, the Winters grew longer and harsher and wilder in her absence."
Amid the sour, a new chord was struck, one that stood out vibrantly and beautifully against the ugly.
"That was the world Eurydice was born into. When we met, she was just a poor girl looking for a flame to light her candle and keep warm by."
"And you gave her a spark."
"Oh, but she gave me the spark!" Orpheus corrected with a loud strum of joy that even made him smirk. "My mother was a muse, and I've always been touched by song. My father gave me this lyre, and Hermes would tell me that one day I would have the power to bring Spring again if only I could finish my song and with Eurydice…I could.
"Singing 'la la la la la la la la la la…"
The occasional sporadic chorus he sang had begun to no longer bother him. He was coming to find that it meant something. He just wasn't quite sure what. And meanwhile, at his feet, with each syllable…a rose.
His breath caught as he realized…
"Oh, Eurydice and I spend the harshest days of winter holed up in our little shack. She'd stir the stew, and I'd work on my lyre; I'd write my song! But then…"
Another sharp, harsh chord.
"On one of the rare spring days we had…"
And then another.
"We ventured out into the world to pick berries for our supper, to fill our bellies full!"
A feast for a starving artist and his wife.
A chord of sorrow to warn him of the dark future that lay ahead.
"And there was a gasp. And a scream. And I went running back to Eurydice's side…"
The boy splayed his hands over the strings. The music stopped.
"But it was too late. She was dead. The venom that killed her still seeping from her body."
There was silence. A pregnant pause where he knew that years ago, he would have pushed the boy to continue, to say more and not waste his time. But in the quiet, the notes seemed to linger, demanding their silence. Even the roses continued to bloom. Oh, how he wanted to take one back for his Belle.
"Singing la la la la la la la la la la…" the boy sang through tears he wept. A mourning song like he'd never heard before.
"Singing la la la la la la la la la la…"
And then the lyre. The notes punctuated the silence they'd been sitting in. He clung to them, sad and weak as they seemed.
"I was devastated," Orpheus went on. "I spoke with my family, with every god I knew, with Hermes and even my mother, and together we found a sorcerer who offered hope. He opened a portal with the blood from his hand. He called the ferryman to him. No way back could he promise, but a way to Eurydice was clear. And so I placed my bets, I hugged my mother, I embraced my godfather. And then I left the world of above behind and came to this world below.
"I searched and searched until I found Eurydice. We thought we had a plan, we thought we could so easily come back. But we failed. Hades discovered us, and when he asked us for one good reason why he shouldn't kill us, I offered him all that I owned, the only thing that ever had any value, the only thing that I knew!"
"A song…"
"Yes, Sir…"
In confirmation, the boy struck up his chorus once more as tears fell from his eyes, and he realized that it was the boy's tears that watered the ground and made the flowers bloom.
"I had finished the song, you see, just before Eurydice died. And I played it for Hades and his would-be bride. I played it. And Persephone danced, and Hades cried. And when I was done, the King of the Underworld was but a man in love with a woman, who was so moved she made one request. She begged, and she pleaded that Hades would give Eurydice back to me. That she would live, that I would sing. Once again in a land of sun and spring, we would dwell together forever after.
"But Hades was a proud man. He was willing to gift his love anything but to release the dead from his Kingdom…he could not.
"So, he struck a deal instead…
"Singing la la la la la la la la la la…"
Oh, it was a powerful chorus. The urge to join in, to lift his voice in song, was strong. He suspected, if not for the darkness within him, he'd have done just that. Instead, he listened to the soft sad notes and didn't bother to hide his tears.
"Persephone gave us some ambrosia, the fruit of the gods, she'd grown it from the garden Hades permitted her. It would allow Eurydice to walk in the light once again. Once we reached the world above, I'd have to feed it to her, and she would have lived again.
"Hades gave me a map, a back way out of a land of the dead. He told me that we could go, but not hand in hand. Her future in the world above would be up to me, not him. For Eurydice would walk behind, and should I look back to see if she was there, if she uttered a word or made a sound before we were both in the land of the living, then she'd return to the ground."
The chords he played intensified. They grew louder and fuller and more adventurous.
"And so we departed, with the fruit in my pocket, with her behind and naught but a song in my head…"
"Singing la la la la la la la la la la…
"Singing la la la la la la la la la la…"
He'd sensed it coming before it came that time. Just as he already sensed the ending before the chords dulled to single notes, single heartbeats, dark and low.
"For days, we walked. We walked for days through the darkness. I never slept. I never ate. All I had was my lyre and my canteen, which had long since gone empty. But onward we trekked, onward we walked over mountains, through valleys, over plains we walked. And the doubt crept in. The doubt grew strong; with every step, every move, every breath, it grew. What had I to offer Eurydice? We were poor! My song had been sung, and the seasons were righted, but what was my purpose now? Why would she ever want to come back with me? A poor songbird with no more songs to sing…"
The music halted abruptly. The boy slumped his shoulders down, and suddenly…suddenly, the spell was broken. Orpheus wept before him, he watered the roses at his feet, and for him, the world came back into focus as he realized…
"You looked," he assumed.
"No," Orpheus insisted. "No, sir, I was good. I kept my eyes straight until I had crossed the threshold between that world and this. And that's when I turned back, to catch her body, to feed her the ambrosia, and that's when I saw…I saw…I had crossed over…"
He sighed as he realized the problem, as he suddenly understood the fucking technicality that Hades had built into the deal that destroyed the kids.
He wasn't to look back, and she wasn't to make a noise until they had both crossed the threshold.
"You crossed over. But she hadn't…"
"Singing…la…la la la…la la la la…la la…"
The broken chorus issued from his mouth in a tragic confirmation that seemed far worse than any tale he'd ever been told about the pair. It made the relief that came when he started picking at notes again almost painful.
"Hades reclaimed Eurydice. I went on. But I couldn't live. Hermes and I tracked down the sorcerer who had helped me last time. He was astonished I'd made it out and couldn't imagine why I wanted to go back. But Sir…any realm Eurydice is in, that's the realm I need to be in…
"He was so moved by my tale that he confided in me that only those who had been to the land of the dead and returned could open the portal. I only needed a body of water and the blood in my veins to summon the ferryman."
There was something worth noting.
"So, you opened the portal yourself this time."
"And I've been here ever since, the living walking among the dead."
"Singing la la la la la la la la la la…"
The lyre reached a tonic, one that told him the song was done, the story was told. It was a beautiful story, even in its tragedy…but not done. Not if he had anything to say about it.
"What of Persephone?" he asked as Orpheus's fingers fell from the strings. "She helped you last time?"
"Persephone is gone," he informed him as he moved his lyre back around to his back. "They're relationship was always a disaster, built on sand. The joy they found in each other lasted for years, but eventually she grew cold and distant all over again. One Spring, when Hades released her, she went into hiding in the world above and hasn't been seen since. They say not even her mother knows where she is."
"How is that possible? Hades never looked for her?"
"He looked, but…" Orpheus sighed. "Persephone had already gone away by the time I returned here. Being born of a goddess gives her some abilities to resist summonings but none that would resist Hades. The story goes that my mother sent one of her sisters, who was well versed in alchemy and science, to help her."
"You're saying Persephone uses magic to keep herself hidden."
Orpheus nodded. "She's been in the land of the living ever since my mother sent her sister."
The goddess of Spring eternally in the land of the living…well, that was certainly one way of explaining global warming. But if Orpheus's mother had sent the help that Persephone needed…that explained something else as well.
"Let me guess, it's after this that Hades started to keep Eurydice under lock and key."
"Yes. She escapes sometimes. She comes out and finds me, but he always finds her. It's a game they play, a game we play. And it never lasts for long enough. How did you guess?"
"Well, it's obvious. Muses don't have children all that often; a child of one would be a child of them all. He doesn't keep her because he's angry you bested him or because the deal fell through. It's revenge. Revenge on you is revenge on your mother and all the muses who help to hide his True Love."
"No, not his True Love, not anymore. Now it's just his pride that's damaged. There's another that he calls his True Love."
"Another love? Another more important than Persephone?"
"Another lost love or scorned love. It depends on who you ask down here.
"See…Hades searched for Persephone. He's looked far and wide for her almost as long as I've been trying to free Eurydice. But many years ago, Hades went to another world, another realm that he thought he'd tracked Persephone to, but while he was there, he met another woman, a witch, some say. He fell in love with her."
"A witch…who? Which realm?"
"No one knows, Sir. There are too many rumors about it to separate fact from fiction. The only way you'd find out is by talking to Hades or talking to her, and he won't say who she is. But it doesn't matter much, really. She either rejected him or hid herself or ran away…that was when the Underworld changed into all of this." Orpheus held his arms up as if to indicate the library.
"It looked nothing like this before. It was mostly bare fields and hutches and tents. Now it's all buildings and streets and black tar. They say he did it for her, but no one really knows why."
He sighed. Heavily. Deals worked better when secrets were known. But Hades was a master dealmaker as well, and he knew this. That was probably why he kept his personal life close to his chest. To fashion a world like Storybrooke, he could take a couple of guesses at who his True Love could be. Obviously, it was a witch from the Enchanted Forest who had gone to Storybrooke. There were only a few candidates of witches there strong enough to fight off Hades. But he wasn't about to go guessing at a time like this, and truly, he didn't think he needed to. He had what he needed to broker this deal. Mostly…
"And the Ambrosia?"
"Hades burned Persephone's Garden when she left."
Of course, he had.
"There's a rumor that the ambrosia tree and a few others are still around, that because they were of the gods, they couldn't be destroyed, so he hid them away, but it's nothing more than rumors."
No surprise there. Everything here in relation to Hades seemed to be "nothing more than rumors." But the lack of concern in the boy's voice, mixed with what he'd already told him…
"But that doesn't matter, because you still have some, don't you."
Orpheus stared at him. It was the longest he'd ever made eye contact with him, and that was damning enough without the swallow he gave. But then Orpheus shifted his weight, he placed his hand within his pocket and pulled out…
It looked like a giant raspberry. Nothing like either a pomegranate or an apple, as so many would have said. It was about the size of a nectarine and reddish pink. It looked as though it had been plucked minutes ago.
"Ambrosia is the fruit of the gods. My mother used to speak of my father giving her some, it's what she says gives me my life. It never rots or loses its power. Hermes used to say that it only grows stronger with age. I never got to feed the one Persephone gave me to Eurydice, so I've been saving it, hoping for the day I might be able to give it to her."
Now…now he knew everything.
Orpheus and Eurydice get a namedrop in Once Upon a Time, but nothing more. In the episode where Hook and Emma go off to find the ambrosia tree Hades mentions that Orpheus got out of the Underworld with Eurydice by feeding her the food, and that was about it. I figured there allowed for a lot of room to play there. I took some info from Greek mythology, a lot of the story from Broadway's Hadestown, and then worked with those parameters to create this version of their tale. I hope you find it to your liking.
Thank you so very, very much, Jennifer Baratta, Grace5231973, and Rsbeall12, for your reviews. While the tale of Orpheus and Eurydice is the star of the show in this chapter, there are some other little gems here that will also come in handy for Rumple in future episodes. Of course, he doesn't know that yet, but as I said earlier, this fiction really does exist to build a bridge to the next few seasons. We're already starting to work some of that in here, as you can see. This is all just part of doing the work. Peace and Happy Reading!