Hades And Persephone: Curse Of The Golden Arrow

by Heidi Hastings

  hiding behind and a knowing smile curled his lips. She jerked her head back quickly. Did he know she was there? Oh, surely, he could not know, she thought desperately, she had been hidden from his view. What had she come to, watching the God of the Underworld undress, and worse yet, enjoying it. She was a voyeur! Her face now hopelessly red, she raced to her room and this time it was she who locked the door.

  Chapter 6 - Dinner

  ◆◆◆

  Persephone heard the pounding on the door and she ignored it as she had since her return to her room, and she pulled the blankets more tightly over her head. She did not want to see the smiling faces of his deluded servants. She had no more desire to explore a castle that was filled with torn out hearts, and she most certainly did not want to see her husband who seemed to both despise and desire her. Hades was truly the embodiment of callousness, and yet inexplicably she could not seem to stop remembering his body as he had undressed. She was clearly sick and there was no cure. Damn this curse! And, no matter how long she pleaded and no matter how hard she looked, she could not find the means to leave this place. So, there was no reason to leave her bed, no reason to answer the door. She would stay here until her mother came to collect whatever remained of her. Demeter would find her in due course.

  The pounding eventually stopped, and Persephone closed her eyes. The silence seemed to reverberate in her ears. A moment stretched into hours and she stared upward, watching the stars move across the ceiling. She wanted to pretend it was the night sky, but it was a lie just like everything else in her life. She raised her head as she heard a quiet scratch on the door. It sounded like claws against the wood and she hurried out of bed to crack the door as two black muzzles pushed their way in.

  “Come Cerberus,” she said eyeing the deserted hallway. The dog padded into the room and she quickly locked the door. Turning back to greet her friend, she studied him carefully. Did she imagine it, or was Cerberus substantially smaller than he had been this morning? He almost appeared puppy-size right now. Maybe fear had increased his size in her mind, or perhaps it was just more evidence of her newly compromised state. With that encouraging thought she threw herself back down on the bed and felt it sink as Cerberus jumped up to join her, pressing his warm little body into her own.

  Laying her head next to one of his, she whispered, “Cerberus, how can you stand it here?” His only reply was a soft lick on her nose. “I expect you are as loyal to him as everyone else here.”

  She dozed for a little while and when she awoke again it was to golden eyes staring into her own. How comforting it was to have a friend here. Feeling slightly more cheerful, she sat up and stretched as Cerberus watched, his tail thumping on the blankets.

  “Oh, I know what you would like,” she said with a smile. Waving her hands in an intricate pattern a lovely branch fell into her lap. “Would you like to fetch?”

  The three heads barked madly, and Persephone shushed him with a laugh. “I presume Hades does not know you are here, so let us not alert him to that fact.” Throwing the stick across the room, Cerberus ran after it, his feet clattering loudly on the floor as the heads growled at each other for the right to the stick. They played an uninterrupted game of fetch for some period of time when the pounding came back.

  “My lady, please open the door!”

  It was Jocasta’s voice. Persephone and Cerberus exchanged a glance, and she did him the courtesy of looking each head in the eye. They seemed to share an understanding.

  “I agree, Cerberus, we will not open the door.”

  Persephone went closer, “Jocasta?”

  Relief was evident in the servant’s voice. “Your majesty, I have been instructed to ready you for dinner with my Lord Hades.”

  Persephone shook her head, forgetting that no one could see her. “No, I am sorry, but I will not attend. You may tell him I do not wish to join him for dinner.”

  There was a moment of silence and then Jocasta’s voice slowly replied, “You mean you will not join him?”

  Crossing her arms Persephone nodded firmly. “Yes, that is exactly what I mean.”

  There was no further response and it seemed Jocasta had left her to her solitude. She went to the fire and sat close to the flame that somehow still burned brightly. Cerberus curled into a small ball in her lap and she stroked his ears gently. Her stomach gave a loud growl and she pressed her hands against it tightly. One night without food would not kill her, but she regretted not eating some of her breakfast this morning. Poor Cerberus would need his dinner though. When she was certain no one lurked outside her door, she would release him back into the hall and then she would be alone again. She touched the branch gently that was now wet with Cerberus’ slobber, studying the small green leaves at the edges of it. Could anything survive in this dark, cold palace?

  Waving her hands again, a small leafy plant fell at her feet. Cerberus gave it a dismissive sniff. She picked it up gently

  stroking its smooth green leaves. Perhaps if she nurtured it and found a way to take it outside the gates and let the light touch it, then it may survive.

  She gave a terrified shriek as a voice said menacingly behind her, “Good evening, wife.”

  Persephone turned her head to look behind her and a thrill of fear went through her as she saw a dark shadow towering over her. Her heart pounded against her chest and she willed it to slow. She remembered how the man had pleaded with Hades in the throne room and his heart had been casually crushed in her husband’s grasp. Pleading would not work with the God of the Dead. Setting her plant down gently before the warmth of the fire, she picked up Cerberus and turned to face him. He need not know that she held her trembling hands beneath the dog’s body.

  “Get out of my room,” she said haughtily, pleased by the steadiness of her voice.

  His eyes darted to his dog held so complacently in her arms, and then he narrowed his gaze on her face. “Your room, my Queen? Everything in this palace belongs to me. Your clothes. That dog. Your bed.” Her, she thought. It hung in the air unspoken between them. “Your use of this room is by my pleasure.”

  Persephone angrily replied, “You think to keep me a prisoner here and not do me the courtesy of having a room? Would you throw your wife into the fiery pits of Tartarus then?”

  A muscle ticked in his jaw as he stepped closer to her. “There is much I have allowed my wife. Tread carefully, Persephone, lest you find what a prison is really like. You will join me for dinner.”

  “I will not!” she said fiercely. “I would rather starve.”

  “Would you? But I find I am hungry,” he said silkily, “and if we do not dine in the hall I will have to dine here. Is that what you want?” His eyes blazed at her, almost feverish in their intensity.

  She backed away warily, clutching Cerberus to her chest. “But I--I am not hungry.”

  He followed her retreat and she felt the wall at her back. “Oh, I think you are, Persephone. I think you are as hungry as I am.” She buried her face in Cerberus’ fur knowing he was right in front of her, afraid he might see the flare of desire in her eyes if she looked at him. She remembered the long hot length of him, and she felt her body pulse with need even as she willed it to still. His hand was on her jaw, and as he began to press her face towards him, her traitorous stomach gave a singularly loud growl.

  Hades laughed. “Enough of this nonsense.” Taking Cerberus from her arms he set the dog gently on the floor and grabbed so suddenly for Persephone that she did not even realize it until she was over his shoulder staring at his firm backside.

  Persephone was fuming by the time he sat her firmly in the chair at the dining table. She crossed her arms tightly over her beautiful breasts and glared at him as he took his seat across from her. He motioned for a servant to begin to bring in the trays, hiding a smile as she hungrily eyed the plates piled high with exotic meats, fruits, cheeses and nuts. He indicated with a nod that his wife should be served first.

  Hades sipped from his glass, “Tell me ab
out your day.”

  She reluctantly drew her eyes from the plate in front of her that was now overflowing with food.

  “It was most illuminating,” she said coldly.

  “That sounds… enticing. Tell me wife, what did you see?”

  She fought a blush remembering his pulsing manhood. “I saw your many jeweled rooms and got lost repeatedly. But you saw the most interesting acquaintance I met today,” she nodded her head towards Cerberus, where one black paw was just visible beneath the table.

  “Ah yes, Cerberus, my guard dog.”

  “Guard dog? Is he not much too small for that, some harm could come to him!”

  His own plate filled, he picked up a piece of juicy meat and was chewing it slowly, when he choked suddenly at her words. Coughing slightly he replied, “Cerberus can change size at will. He wanted you to pet and coddle him, so he made himself a smaller version of his true form, but when enraged, I assure you, he can grow large enough to fill this room.”

  He saw her study the small paw again with surprise this time.

  “I knew he had seemed larger when I met him this morning. What a clever boy he is.”

  Hades snorted. “Yes, he is clever. He is not in general a fan of the living, or of the dead for that matter, but it seems you have bewitched him. He protects the gate so no one can enter or exit the Underworld without my consent. He can rip apart a man with his bare teeth if necessary - He is the offspring of Typhon.”

  Persephond gasped. Typhon was one of the deadliest creatures in existence, a creature who had fought against the Olympians in the Titanic Wars. She knew through her history that it had been long before her time.

  “Is Cerberus safe then?”

  “On my life. The sins of the father should not pass to the son. I have had him since he was a pup. Cerberus is innocent of any crime.” They sat in silence for a moment as she stared down hungrily at her plate. She would not eat in front of him, he thought with a sigh.

  “Excuse me,” Hades muttered striding to the door, feeling her eyes on his back. He stood in the shadows of the doorway letting the darkness absorb him. When she thought he was gone she quickly devoured her food, glancing now and then at the door. What a stubborn creature she was. Giving her a few moments of privacy, he returned with a sifter of wine and refilled both their glasses, noticing how she stiffened as he leaned closer towards her. He politely ignored her empty plate.

  Settling back into his seat he said pleasantly, “I saw you watching me today.”

  Her cup clattered loudly to the table as wine sloshed over the edge and a lovely blush infused her pale face. “Wh--what? You saw me--?”

  “In the throne room,” he finished her question with a quirk of his brow, seeing the obvious relief in her wide eyes. “There is no need to be embarrassed, though I distinctly remember conveying to Jocasta that you were only to explore those areas that did not possess locked doors. I assume she did not deliver my message sufficiently.”

  “No!” she replied quickly. “She did, I just did not listen. But I am not the one who should be ashamed.”

  “And who should be ashamed then?” Hades questioned.

  “You!” she cried with blazing eyes. “I saw what you did to that poor man, you showed no mercy. You were barbaric! No creature deserves that kind of cruelty.”

  He picked up an orange and rolled it thoughtfully in his hands. “You are a child if you believe that. You have been sheltered in your mother’s temple your whole life, you have yet to see the true depravity of man. That “poor man” committed such atrocities in his life that he deserved no kindness in his death. I do not regret my treatment of him. There is no shame in justice being served to those who deserve it. Can you think of no one, wife, who you would like to punish?” he asked with a sly smile.

  “No one I would wish to be subjected to that treatment, not even you husband,” she quickly retorted.

  “Ah, you are too generous, my love.” She stiffened at his endearment. “Do you have any questions for me? You saw a soul subjected to the worst treatment a human soul can undergo. Do you wonder where he went? Where the others go?”

  She stared stonily at him.

  “But of course you do, my curious wife, otherwise why would you watch furtively from peepholes.” A blush crept up her face again at his words. She wore her emotions too plainly on her face, no wonder Demeter had guarded her so fiercely. “The ordinary souls,” he continued, “go to the Asphodel Meadows. These are souls whose touch on the world will be forgotten soon after their death. The souls who have remarkably changed the world go to Elysium, souls whose names will live on despite the rise and fall of empires. And only the most wicked and depraved, as you know, go to Tartarus, so that they might live out eternity in perpetual torment.”

  “The parade was in Elysium?” she asked reluctantly.

  “Yes. The souls from Asphodel got to spend the day there to celebrate our wedding. Today they are back in the meadows.”

  “What are the meadows like?” she asked with curiosity.

  “Blue skies, lush green grass that stretches on and on forever and flowers everywhere. You would like it. I will take you one day.”

  She longed to see blue skies again, just not with her husband. “Why is your castle not located in the Meadows or Elysium? Why live in this dark, cold palace?”

  “My palace is the gateway to these realms. We do not belong with the dead. My job is to wait for the souls to be judged, separate the wheat from the chaff, and deal out their punishments."

  “And you are happy with this day after day? Never being in the light?”

  “Happy enough,” he replied. “Some are not meant to touch the light.”

  Persephone considered his enigmatic statement, but then determinedly dismissed it from her mind. His happiness was not her concern, so she turned the conversation to a point more critical to both of them. “Are you any closer to discovering who shot the arrow at you?”

  “I am afraid for the moment that still remains a mystery,” he replied, his face partially hidden by the shadows of the room.

  “Can’t you think of any one who hates you enough to curse you?” she asked, disbelief dripping from her voice.

  He smiled at her, a dimple appearing on one side of his mouth. “On the contrary, I can think of too many. But have no fear, I am considering each of them. Some have been dismissed as potential subjects, others are still being investigated. Perhaps I should, in turn, ask if you have any enemies who may wish to punish you? We may be wrong to assume it was I who someone wanted to harm.”

  Her face was pale, and she avoided his eyes, “No one comes to mind.”

  “Have no fear, we will eventually find the culprit,” he promised.

  “But perhaps when we can discover who it was, we may be able to remove the curse--,” she stopped as she saw him shaking his head.

  “No, Persephone, it is not possible to remove this curse,” he said firmly. He needed her to understand the gravity of the situation. Neither of them would ever be free now, each was irrevocably tied to the other. “The only reason I seek to know the face behind the arrow is so we can prevent them from doing further harm. This damage has already been done.”

  He watched as her face fell and wished he could tell her otherwise, but this curse was not only permanent, it was fast acting. He felt like a man possessed, like the most wretched of lovesick fools, and he feared nothing would ever be enough to satisfy his need for her. He sipped his wine slowly in an effort to steady his breathing.

  The silence once more became heavy between them and he could not keep his eyes from hungrily drinking her in. Her forest green eyes returned his gaze with uncertainty. Did she not realize how much he wanted her?

  He stared at her mouth and bit back a groan as her small white teeth dug into her lush lower lip. Almost desperately she blurted out, “I saw the engravings of Eros in my room. I found their story very sad. If only he had been honest with Psyche, she would never have believed he was a monster. M
uch harm was done by his lies.”

  “On the contrary, wife,” Hades interjected. “Psyche was a silly woman indeed to allow herself to be swayed so easily from her love. Such cheaply lost affection is not worth any tears. What does a name matter if you have found the soul that calls to yours?”

  “A little sweetness to balance your acidity, husband?” she asked with a smile, passing him a honeyed cake. He accepted with a smile of his own. “Had Eros simply trusted Psyche she would not have listened to the malicious words of others. What was she to think when she was met night after night by a faceless being? She believed he would kill her child.”

  “She let fear control her,” he responded. “ Her heart knew the truth, but her mind was poisoned by lies. She should have trusted him instead of listening to the malicious gossip from her family. She did not deserve him in the light if she could not love him in the dark.” He felt his cock jerk in response to the ferocious look she gave him.

  “I think she did what any woman would do in that situation, if she thought her child was threatened. I only wish he could have trusted her, and then in turn, she would have trusted him.”

  He pressed a juicy melon to his mouth feeling a thrill of satisfaction as her eyes followed the movement. “My Goddess of the Forest, you know better than anyone what happens when a planted seed sprouts and takes root. This is what happened with Psyche and her sisters. They planted a seed of doubt, but it was Psyche alone who nurtured it and allowed it to grow until it consumed her love. The only wisdom gained from this story is how little value you should place in the words of others.”

  Persephone blushed as she remembered how she had repeated the malicious gossip of Olympus. “I only hope they will find a way back to one another,” she said softly.