Why on Gaia would she be jealous of Hades’ conquests? She was merely grateful to him, that was all. Never mind that he had trapped her down here, she still had behaved extremely foolishly to allow herself to be at the mercy of a demon like Eurynomos. Like it or not, she could only feel a true gratitude to him that he had saved her at great risk to himself. But the attraction was simply due to the curse. It was certainly not due to the way his black eyes flashed, or his sensuously curved mouth, and most assuredly it had nothing to do with the exquisite shape of his muscular arms and body.
She eyed the bottle of wine that Jocasta must have left for her near the chaise, and she walked over and poured herself a large glass. She drank deeply from it. Perhaps with enough wine she could forget the memory of Hades bowed at her breast and the delicious tingle she had felt at the touch of his tongue. Perhaps with enough wine, she could forget the agony of having her body torn apart by Eurynomos. By the time she poured herself a second glass, she felt a lovely hazy feeling and she carried the glass back over to inspect the engravings.
With a rather loud hiccup, she eyed Psyche's sisters with a critical eye. Hades was right, they did look rather malicious, perhaps Psyche had been a fool not to see it. She considered her husband. She could not deny the moments of kindness she had seen in him, from the children at the festival to the many people in his kingdom, even to Cerberus. She had to admit he was not the ogre that she wished him to be, at least not completely. And if she was feeling these wretched urges, how much worse would it be for him, who had been pierced by that damned golden arrow.
As her fingers traced the tears on Psyche’s face, she wondered if she was making excuses for him. She was a prisoner here and she was lonely. And she was no stranger to the mistakes that could be made due to loneliness. If Hades could not address this curse on his own, well they simply must consult someone who could. Perhaps her mother would be able to shed light on the matter, and she missed her mother dearly. If she could only see her, she was sure her mother might know a way to fix things. She would broach the subject again when she saw him next, that is, if she could bear to look at him in the eyes ever again.
With another hiccup she sank to the floor and leaned her head back against the wall, feeling a particularly erotic scene of Eros and Psyche press against her back. At least they had enjoyed themselves for a time, she reasoned, even though it had ended so badly. Maybe the interim made the ending more palatable. Her eyes felt heavy but she refused to let them close. If she did, the nightmares would return and she could not bear the thought of seeing the dead staring eyes. She lay like that for some time, and though her eyes continually drifted down, she jerked herself awake each time, denying herself the sleep her body so desperately needed. The glass tipped precariously in her hand, so she took another sip as the red liquid sloshed over the edge. She felt herself drifting off again and her eyes closed for several moments, but this time when she forced them open, she saw two very long, very muscular legs standing in front of her.
“Why are you sleeping on the floor?” his deep voice inquired.
She forced her bleary eyes to open wider and felt annoyed that she had to lean so far back to look up at him. Must he be so tall, she thought irritability. His dark hair fell over his forehead masking his expression, but his lips, well, those looked soft and sensual in his dark face. No matter how ferocious he may be, his lips could never be anything but enticing.
She considered him, staring at his lovely mouth and it took several seconds to realize he had asked her a question. She tried to force her mind to work. What exactly had he asked her? Something about the floor perhaps.
“The floor is quite comfortable,” she replied vaguely.
“With Psyche’s exquisitely molded breasts pressed against your head? I find that hard to believe.”
She pushed her head more firmly against the wall, schooling her face into a serene expression as a particularly sharp portion of Eros’ anatomy pressed painfully against her skull.
“I am quite at my leisure,” she lied. “Besides, I could not sleep.”
“Ah, a guilty conscience disturbing your slumber?” he questioned.
Her heart sped at his question. He could not know how closely he had aimed at the truth.
“No more guilty than yours, dear husband,” she countered sweetly, the end of the sentence punctuated with a particularly loud hiccup. Oh dear, what unfortunate timing, she thought.
“But mine is particularly guilty. How interesting to think that Persephone could have as many dark deeds at her feet as the King of the Underworld.” He eyed the glass she held loosely in her hand. “How much wine have you had?”
“Not nearly enough,” she replied reasonably. “It is perfectly lovely stuff. I must remember to thank Jocasta for leaving it.” She took another sip to emphasize her point.
He leaned down and she sucked in her breath as his long fingers wrapped around her hand, remembering the feel of them wrapped around her breasts. He quickly released her and raised the glass to his mouth swallowing the rest of the liquid. She watched attentively as he lowered the goblet, his lips stained an enticing red. When his tongue licked at the drops, she scowled at him. He had no right to be so appealing, she thought unreasonably.
“How rude!” she exclaimed aloud.
Fortunately, he misinterpreted her meaning. “You will thank me tomorrow. I had not thought to find my very proper wife inebriated at this late hour.”
“I am no such thing!” And if her voice slurred slightly it was no business of his. “Why did you come here?” she demanded. “To bother me some more?”
“Ah, what a charming mood you are in. I came to check on you, and I actually have something to show you.”
“What?” she asked suspiciously.
“Hmm, I think the suspense will do you good. First we must address my intoxicated wife.” He grabbed for her suddenly and before she could protest, swung her into his arms.
“We will do no such thing!” She kicked at him, her small foot connecting with his stomach, but he did not even seem to notice. “You could at least pretend it hurt!” she fumed.
He glanced down at her and seemed genuinely confused. “What?”
“Oh, never mind!” She squirmed as he reached the bed, her face blushing as she recalled what had happened there only hours ago. “The wife wishes to be left alone!”
He placed one knee on the bed to drop her gently on the mattress and she shrunk back when he settled next to her. As he leaned towards her, she breathed in his scent. The slight smell of frankincense teased her nostrils, and he smelled warm and sensual and… she opened her eyes, realizing she had closed them again. His face was close to hers and a smile played about his lips. They stared at each other for several endless moments and she sucked in a gasp as he leaned forward to trace the dark circles under her eyes with a soft caress.
“You are not sleeping, Persephone. Is it the terror of today or is it something else that haunts you?” he asked.
She hesitated a moment and she was so tempted to bare her soul to him, to trust him with her darkest secrets, but fear made her silent. She replied lightly, “Who would not be haunted in the land of the dead? Do you not feel haunted, husband?”
“It would be foolish to allow the dead to haunt you,” he replied.
Even in her hazy brain she realized that he had not truly answered her question. She narrowed her eyes and he shook his head, obviously sensing she was about to argue. How odd that he knew her that well.
“But I do not wish to discuss the dead with you, my sweet. Let us leave them buried tonight. I merely wish to help you sleep.”
She blinked at the endearment. “And how do you intend to do that?” she asked in a wary voice crossing her arms tightly over her chest.
He followed the movement and laughed. “What a delightfully suspicious mind you have. I will not touch you, I merely wish to lay with you and tell you a story.”
“A story!” she exclaimed with genuine surprise. “
Where did you learn it from?”
He had laid back fully now, his long legs stretched out, and he placed one arm behind his neck as he glanced down at her with a grin. She felt a flutter in her stomach.
“I was a child once, too, you know,” he explained.
She pictured him then, a small pale boy with soft black curls around his face. He had probably been a little imp. Had he known then he was fated to rule the land of death? She discreetly scooted as far to the edge of the bed as possible and then she too stretched out her legs. They were considerably shorter than her husbands. “And who taught these stories to you?”
A shadow passed his face before he replied softly, “My mother.”
She studied him closely. It was subtle but she saw the sudden tension in his muscles. She longed to run a hand against his rigid arm, but she knew it was the wine’s persuasion, so she kept her hand tightly against her side. He expected her to interrogate him, but she found that for the moment, she was merely content to hear his voice.
“Well, mothers do tell the best stories.” She settled her head back with a sigh of pleasure and closed her eyes. “I am prepared to be beguiled by your tale.”
“Very well,” his deep voice muttered, and she felt a chill go down her spine at the richness of it.
Long... long ago. A mother held her infant to her breast. The new life beat against her heart but something troubled her. She clung to her child as she brushed the hair across his face and she said with a cry. You were born this day - to die. She lifted the baby up towards the light, with sorrow with woe, with terrible plight. She looked at the bundle with fear undisguised - I am sorry my love, but today you must die.
Forgive me my choice, the good mother said. My actions my deeds are ones that I dread. My hand it was forced, a choice I cannot defy. Forgive me my son. I must say goodbye.
You will be wrapped in darkness, you will be wrapped in sin. You will be all alone. You will be trapped from within. But I will always be near you. I hope you can try, to forgive me this evil, of which I comply.
Now hush my sweet child. I hope and I pray. That you will escape. That you will find a way. Until that time comes, please know that I - am setting you free by watching you die.
When he looked over, her eyes had closed and she lay with one small hand tucked under her chin, dark hair curled gently around her face. He lifted his hand and let the silky locks travel through his fingers. Her other hand was stretched towards him almost as though she were reaching for him. She would hate that, he thought with a smile. Her rosebud lips were slightly open, and she looked so innocent he felt his heart twist painfully. Keeping a wide space between them he laid back his head and closed his eyes. It eased the ache in his chest to be near here, even briefly, and he would get up soon and find Charon. He needed to make plans. There were too many unanswered questions and he was letting his obsession with his wife push other matters from his mind. He meant to rest only for a moment, but for the first time in a very long time, Hades drifted into a peaceful, dreamless sleep as his reluctant wife lay curled next to him.
When Persephone awoke, she sighed with pleasure. She felt like she was swathed in a warm cocoon and she snuggled closer into the warmth. It had been a lovely rest she thought happily, and for once no nightmares had haunted her. She kept her eyes closed and then rolled over, opening her eyelids slowly to stare into the dark, enigmatic eyes of her husband. Contentment filled her briefly as she took in his face until her mind processed the situation and then she flushed furiously. His arms were wrapped around her and their noses were almost touching. Why would he be in bed with her! Gasping, she glanced down and was relieved to see that she still wore her nightgown. She recalled her wine-soaked conversation and realized with dismay that he must have spent the entire night with her. His lip curved as if reading her mind.
“Yes, dear wife, you did indeed sleep with the King of Hell,” he said as he glanced down, his gaze pausing for a moment at her breasts and then back up to her eyes. “You seemed to have survived the night.” He reached out a hand towards her and she gave a squeak of dismay and rolled from the bed to land with a loud, indignant thud. She righted herself quickly, and shot him a glance as she stood to her full height. To his credit he only had a half smile on his face.
“Are you all right?” he asked solicitously.
She cleared her throat and majestically said, “Yes. You may leave now. I wish to get ready for the day.”
“You do love to dismiss me,” he murmured. His lazy gaze perused her and she forced her hands to remain at her sides when she wanted to push at the heavy hair falling over her shoulders. He rose slowly from the bed and for a moment she was hopeful he would leave so that she could have some time to collect herself, but then he crossed the bed. It was not fair, she thought as she watched him prowl closer to her, that he could look so tantalizing in the morning.
“Do you have a headache?” he asked, his eyes narrowed on her. She realized she had been staring at him like some moonstruck nymph. With dismay she realized she suddenly felt nervous, but instead of delivering a cutting response, she could only shake her head furiously. He eyed her suspiciously and then replied, “Good, because I have a present for you.”
He lifted his hands and a sphere of white pulsating light appeared between his palms. It vibrated faintly as he held it between his hands, and Persephone gasped with pleasure. She had never seen anything like this before, not even on Olympus. She stepped closer to the sphere and was immediately infused by its warm glow. She felt something spring into her chest, something she recognized as hope. It had been so long since she had felt its gentle touch. “It is beautiful!” she whispered, touching the edges of the globe. It gave a soft hum of pleasure as though it enjoyed the contact with her as much as she did.
“This is a Helios’ orb. It is what we use to light the Meadows and Elysium. This is for your room, so you can tell when the sun rises and sets on Earth. Most importantly, you will be able to grow flowers with it. This is your sunlight.” The orb floated into the air and illuminated the bedroom. Hades waved his hand at the constellations on the ceiling and they morphed into a beautiful blue sky. “At night when the sun sets, you will see stars again.”
“Oh, thank you,” she said quietly, blinking back the sudden tears in her eyes. “I could not ask for a better gift.”
He raised his hand. “There is one more gift, Persephone, and I somehow think you will like this one even better.”
He motioned toward the door and as she followed his gaze, she could not stop the strangled cry that left her throat. The little fawn was standing in the doorway, its lithe body held up by thin, knobby legs and it had small white dots that formed a heart on its back. She ran towards it, tears leaking from her eyes as she cried, “Olive!” When she reached the deer, they bounded towards each other simultaneously and the deer fell to the ground guarded tightly in Persephone’s arms. She pressed her forehead to the fawn’s and whispered, “I have missed you so much, my dearest friend.” She pressed a kiss to the soft spot between Olive’s brown eyes and closed her own, her heart aching with happiness. “I will never leave you again, I promise you. I am so sorry.” She felt Hades standing behind her, and she whispered in a tight voice. “How did you know?”
“I found him when he first entered this world; he was lost. I could feel his attachment to you, and I felt your soul calling for his. I knew he was important to you.”
She felt a tear roll down her cheek and she buried her face against Olive’s soft fur. “I never got to place the coins over his mouth so that the boat could bring him here.”
"He told me there was an accident, his neck was broken,” Hades responded.
Persephone sobbed, "My sweet friend, you were brave. I ran to find coins, and when I came back, his body was gone. I never forgave myself."
She hugged the fawn and it gave her face a gentle lick. “Thank you,” she turned around to look at Hades. “I love him more than anything. I can never repay you for this.”
>
Hades bent down beside her and he gently stroked the fawn. Persephone watched in surprise as Olive closed his eyes happily. He had always been skittish around others, but he trustingly rubbed his head against Hades’ gentle hand. Had Hades befriended the little fawn, she wondered? Before she could ask him he stood.
“You are welcome. You do not have to be lonely here,” he seemed to whisper the words into her ear, and she shivered at his nearness. He stepped back from her and she grasped his cape between her fingers, halting him.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
He stared down at her and then smiled, “Wheat from the chaff my
love,” he replied, “wheat from the chaff.”
Chapter 10 - Content
◆◆◆
Persephone spent the next few days decorating the room with Olive as her constant companion. Sometimes Cerberus would paw himself into the room and make her small group a trio. At first Persephone had watched with trepidation as the dog’s heads had sniffed and smelled the small fawn, and she stood close lest she need to defend Olive. After several seconds of inhaling the fawn’s scent, however, all three heads seemed to deem him as harmless and now, for several hours every day, they curled next to each other on the bed, the four heads snuggled closely together. Persephone had watched with delight as they had chased one another around her room earlier today, Olive’s long legs bounding gracefully as the dog panted and nipped playfully at him. With only Olive and Cerberus as company, she was free to transform her room as she saw fit. Pink peonies crawled up and around the canopy bed and patches of soft, green moss now carpeted the floor. A roped swing hung from a willow tree in the corner of the room, while her fireplace was adorned with garlands of flowers. Much to the distress of Jocasta, the pond in the back was filled with blossoming lily pads and even a few frogs could be seen in the depths, but Persephone assured her that this was how she had always bathed at home. The bedroom had been transformed into a garden and for the first time in a long while, Persephone felt content. She would read books on the swing as Olive laid on her lap and a very small Cerberus would curl up at her feet. The room had blossomed, and so had she. Tiny white flowers trailed wherever she walked and even a few could now be found in the hallway that led from her room. As long as she took care to bring the orb with her every day, the flora need not be confined for just her enjoyment.
Hades And Persephone: Curse Of The Golden Arrow Page 13
