by Io
I was Persephone. That was all.
As I slipped into a state of unconsciousness from mental fatigue, I had the feeling that there was someone in the room. There, with me. Someone who, in fact, I knew very well, as everyone knows, mortal and immortal, someone with soft feathers, black as night, someone who smelled of an infusion of honey and poppies. I tried to open my eyes to see him, but my eyelids were heavy.
“Rest, sovereign,” whispered Hypnos, the god of sleep, “there is no where else that you would be safer. Rest, and let your subjects honor you and watch over you.”
Logic would have wished that I jumped up in panic, if only if one shred of logic had remained in my body; but my sister Athena was too far away for her to persuade me to have any. I thought that if Hades had promised to leave me in peace, he would have left me in peace, and I trusted his word so that I ended up actually falling asleep.
Unknown
The touch on my shoulder was friendly, but too insistent for me to continue to ignore it. With one hand over my eyes, to shut out, even for a moment longer the light of dawn, I sat up.
I was still confused, and was more crumpled by the peplos I had slept in. For a moment, I wondered why Mint had been so worried.
“Oh, divinity, you stayed here, all the time? You will be sore!”
“No,” I lied, ignoring the pains in my side, “I’m fine.”
Sleeping in Hades’ bed was out of the question. I didn’t even have to think about it. Stupidly, I tried not to blush at the thought.
“Is it day or night?”
Leuka was gathering up the flowers, which had fallen from the cushions onto the floor. She caressed them as if they were kittens, before returning to place them beside me.
“In this realm, when it is night, the stars light up, o divinity; there is no moon, ever, and the light is gray.” Replied Mint, unwilling to recognize the beauty of paradise. “You slept for the rest of the day yesterday and all night. You must be hungry.”
“A little.” I admitted. Then, hesitating, I asked her where the king was.
The nymphs shivered, leaves of the same branch when the wind blows. “He is holding a hearing. He will leave you in peace for a little longer, but... well, as soon as he finishes he is likely to come here, to eat his morning meal.”
For Mint it seemed to be the worst misfortune that could have happened, and I had no doubt that, under a less distorted perspective of my own, it was; but I needed answers, even if I was afraid. My mother was no longer there to stand between my fears and me. I had to force myself, I had to address them, face him that was all.
“Then I’ll wait for him. Meanwhile, I would like to refresh myself and change my appearance.”
They bowed to obey. I was surprised by my calm, now that I was rested and I knew I had time to prepare to meet him. If that were the case also in Pergusa, I thought, it would have saved a lot of grief.
“No,” I said when Leuka started to put the flowers back in my hair, “leave them on the shelf. At least they deserve some peace.”
I remained a little thoughtful, when I saw myself reflected in the large bronze mirror, placed so that the light of dawn could increase its clarity.
The nymphs had done their best, and I seemed to be a stranger to myself, well dressed and coiffed. The royal tunic, a veil so slight that it rippled with every movement, golden ribbons in my hair, to make it shine. I was not a little girl, any more. The young woman looked at me, with a calm that seemed to make bronze resonate, she was an adult, she was of marriageable age.
The elegant and seductive unknown woman confused me. My mother would not see me as I saw myself, I was sure.
I refused to think about how he saw me.
“My lady?” I came back to myself. To see the worried little faces of the nymphs, for
whom my sadness was their main source of worry, I forced myself to smile.
“It seems that, at a point I have not understood, I have become the queen of the Avernus, eh?”
Mint did not catch my attempt to lighten the mood, or maybe I was not very good at that kind of humor, and seemed distraught.
“The divine Demeter will do everything possible to remedy this wrong, divinity. Have no doubt.”
“My mother is on the other side of this existence. It is with Hades I have to talk, to be able to obtain something.”
It was such an absurd hope that all three of us sighed in unison. The effect was so funny that we had to laugh, and for a while we were serene.
I found myself in front of the desk, after I had found the courage to cross the drapes that separated the bedroom from the living room, when the doors opened.
It happened so quietly that I hardly noticed, and winced to hear the sound of footsteps. Mint and Leuka were close behind me, trembling.
“Go,” I said, “if I make him fly into a temper, as I believe, you should not be here.”
“Divinity, be careful!”
He wants to marry me I thought, with a sudden motion of dislike for my nymphs, I’m the last person who he would harm. He is ruthless, but he is no fool.
I bit my lip, fighting with myself, while the servants of the Underworld, strange creatures with pale faces and bent backs, placed cups and trays on the tables next to the Kline. They were very quiet, and after having bowed devotedly, did not bother me in any way. The flickering will-o-the-wisps danced between the columns, illuminating the room with a ghostly light.
I stayed where I was, until the long shadow of Hades fell on me.
He was wearing a dark red tunic that reached to his feet. The cloak was pure black, and fell over his left shoulder, held by a jeweled clasp. He had no armor, of course, but wore a crown. It was made with long beaks, polished obsidian spikes, which cast dark shadows on his pale face.
He held out his hand, looking at me with an intensity that made me uncomfortable.
“My lady?” I hope you have rested enough.”
Kindness is innate in me; I reached out in response to him, but stopped, realizing how this might make me appear submissive.
“I had a visit from one of your subjects, which helped me a lot in this sense. Sent by you?”
Hades reached out and took my hand that I was unable to hold out. In his, mine disappeared.
“He wanted to please you, like everyone in this court. Allow me not to be outdone by my servant, you will be hungry.”
He took me with him, made me sit next to him, on the kline. He poured the tea with his hands, instead of asking one of the servants, and did not lift his cup before I had. As a courtesy, I thought, I had nothing to learn from anyone, except that it was necessary to be generous before kidnapping someone, and not after.
“I have some questions.”
“Understandable.”
“Has my mother been informed?”
“At this point she will be. The nymphs talk among themselves.” I thought of Cyane, who had fought to save me and had not been successful.
She had to be no less desperate than Mother Earth. I turned the cup in my hands, but with a hungry stomach too tight to ingest anything; I knew that any variant of the only question that I really cared about would sound ridiculous to his ears.
“What do you expect from me?” I finally asked, looking at my reflection in the infusion and not at him. “If you have such a low opinion of my mother, why should you have one that is any higher of her daughter?”
He seemed amused, although he did not smile. There was only a play of shadows on his sculpted face.
“You’re not Demeter. You wanted to be reassured in this regard?”
“I want to go back home.” Hades finished his drink and put the cup on the table.
“No.” He said, flatly.
“Please, I ...”
“No.” He repeated, without raising his voice. “This will be your home from now on. Nobody leaves my kingdom, once they have been brought here, and you are no exception. You less than anyone. You will stay here.”
It sounded like a
sentence, the kind that makes entreaties sound pathetic.
But I was not sure I would have begged, even if I thought it would help.
“I am not dead,” I noted, “the rules of the deceased cannot be applied to me, if ever, in fact, my presence violates the same laws of your kingdom.”
“You will stay here.”
He did not care enough even to argue, it must have seemed completely superfluous.
“Now I understand why the mortals call you inexorable,” I said, bitterly, “and why they feel so much hatred for you, the god whose pride they fear more than any other.”
The look that Hades gave me pierced me. The crown of obsidian darkened his indecipherable expression even further. He spoke with such a measured tone as to sound monotonous.
“You need have no fear! You are mistress of this palace, and all the souls of my kingdom. As mortals, you should have already noticed, they hate me only on one side of their existence, and that side does not concern me.”
I opened my mouth to answer him rudely, because he was beginning to really irritate me. His calmness was infuriating, was a wall against which any attempt at negotiation was rendered useless. Hades does not make deals; he bent to do it once, and it was certainly not that.
I wanted to tell him that it seemed perfectly logical that a mortal hated the god of the dead, and that perhaps the problem was that his attitude was detestable. If all gods are proud, there were no limits to the eldest son of Cronus even he doubts that his wishes will be followed. Death is made of certainties.
So is life, I wanted to say. Instead, I found myself asking: “And this does not weigh on you?” The wonder in his eyes reflected my own. Then, once again,
the shadows of the crown and the lights of the dawn played with his features, and softened his look.
“It weighs on me,” he said, “now less than yesterday, Persephone.”
I blushed, I looked for something to look at that was not him. When he spoke my name I felt a little less vulnerable than if he had touched me physically.
“I was not asking for adulation, I only wanted... it’s all too strange for me. I don’t belong in this kingdom, I know nothing of your court, try to understand...”
“You have not eaten anything,” he interrupted, “the doubts can wait for you to eat, queen.”
At that name I gasped and looked at him, genuinely scared.
Hades, after having returned my gaze, seemed to come to a decision. He got up, he nodded at me, and disappeared behind the drapes of the bedroom. I waited expectantly.
When he returned he was holding something that made me jump up onto my feet. Something that was shining, that drew to itself the iridescent light of dawn.
“No,” I said, unable to control myself, “no, please, please, no...”
His shadow covered me, and I found myself paralyzed before the god of the dead. He did not need to order me to stay; the will of a king is law. And then, where could I escape?
“I looked at it, when I entered. You should have taken it, it is your right.”
“You’re wrong, I did not look at it.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“Why, is eternal damnation waiting for me?”
I wanted to take a bitter tone, but I was so afraid that the corners of Hades mouth curled, giving my words the exact meaning they had; pure, simple fear of the enormity of the alabaster crown.
My crown.
I was enchanted to look at it, there on Hades’ desk, placed on a black velvet cushion, which made it stand out even more clearly. There were bolts, on the queen’s crown, or quills, and when I felt it encircle my forehead I closed my eyes, preparing for its weight. It was cold.
I could only think that he had kept it at his side, where he could see it. For all that time, while, on the surface, I dreamed I blessed the flowers and roots, he had kept it beside him; then I felt his hands down along my face, stopping at my throat. I could have felt threatened, but it was a caress, not a threat.
This time the kiss was sweet. He didn’t imprison me in his arms, he didn’t try to force me. I raised my hands to take his wrists, perhaps had it in mind to push him away, but I ended up clinging to him. I could only think about how strange that there was so much warmth in such a cold palace, alabaster and obsidian. I felt his breath. I felt how strong he was. You can easily break the stem, but it is almost impossible to break the roots. “La magnolia.” The ice. The god. Man.
Before I lost control, and with what little will I had left, I pulled my head back.
I whispered, to keep him from kissing me again, “The servants...” From so close, I could see myself reflected in the embers
glowing in Hades’ eyes. When he let go of me, he half closed his eyes with the last caress on his face. I thought it was dreadful to desire an obligation so much.
“My queen.”
This time I didn’t flinch. I shook my head, silently, but Hades didn’t bother to correct me again. He had no need. He raised my hand to his lips and said I could use the palace and gardens as I wished.
“From tomorrow you will also have the Elysian fields and the entire realm of the Underworld.”
With what those words implied, I felt a thrill, not exactly fear. I tried not to feel overwhelmed.
“I only need a donation to buy the passage from Charon, if I’m not mistaken?”
“I am not familiar with jokes,” he replied unperturbed, “but if you want to know your chances of returning to the surface alone, I fear that the answer is ‘no’. You belong to the Avernus now.”
To you, I thought, and now I pushed the thought away. I raised my hands to take off my crown, it was a futile gesture of rebellion as much as my attempts to keep him at a distance. Maybe I should throw it to the ground, to give strength to my intentions; instead, I found myself laying it on the table, with the delicacy that I would use for a bud in the new year.
“I am not your queen. It’s not so easy.”
Hades looked at me, and in my innocence back then, I thought he was fed up with my insistence. His face was the cage that imprisoned the fire betrayed by that dark look. No one had ever looked at me that way. No one had ever dared.
Then he said, in a low, confidential tone that I had not heard before, and that I would hear only very few times, only when we were alone:
“I’ll try to help you as much as I possibly can, Persephone.”
Again, just to hear him say my name, felt as if he were touching me.
He wanted to do it, I saw that. I began to see who he was, I could see the man behind the god, the man who formed the god. His desire scared me because I knew I would not resist.
If he again extended his hand to me, I would be lost.
Instead, Hades gave me a polite bow, then he turned his back and walked away.
When his steps were silenced by the hallway, in the twilight of the colonnade, I dropped onto the kline, trembling. It took a long time before my nerves calmed. Realizing that Hades had not touched food, because I had not done so, did not help me to calm down.
Mint and Leuka seemed to recover the typical liveliness of nymphs in the gardens. We played for a while with a cloth ball, then, when I was sure they would not stop on my account, I let them go on alone. I greatly needed to stay calm, to think.
Despite myself, the realm of Hades fascinated me. I had never seen such an enormous variety of life, shapes and colors of all plants from around the world, whose vital impulses had also come to the surface, but I had never seen them. The gardens of paradise are in all respects as imagined by mortals, it is impossible not to be won over. No one came to disturb me; Hades orders, undoubtedly. I was grateful. I didn’t feel ready to face the disturbing creatures that ruled the kingdom of the Underworld. Even here, in this wonderful place, the darkness was Erebus, and under his shadow not even a blade of grass grew.
“They do not need me,” I whispered, touching the soft petals of the lotus, “bloom eternally and no frost to endanger them. I’m so useless, he
re...”
The flowers were all open, all in full bloom. That was also a paradise for them. They whispered stories of exotic places a long way away, and of a sun whose rays never warmed me. I was listening to them, while the eternal dawn lit the leaves and flowers with tints that had never been possible on the surface, and the squirrels leaped into my lap, the fawns stretched their muzzles to be caressed. I had to get up to reach where Hades’ horses were fenced, because they had started pawing, jealously.
I kept my thoughts at bay, by sheer force of will. Mint and Leuka cared so much for me that to wallow in self-pity would only make things worse.
The thought that was hardest of all to dismiss was the thought that maybe things were not as bad as I was trying to tell myself.
When they brought lunch I tried to eat, although nervousness still closed my stomach and flesh disgusted me even more than on the surface. At Mint’s insistence, I sent down the fruit with a little bread; I actually felt better after, but also as if Hades had defeated me. To accept the food from a host creates a bond, as long as you remain under his roof. I almost burst out laughing for the ridiculousness of that scruple; could be no more obliged than that!
When, under the arcades, the torches were lit one after the other, I got up there was no need to tell me.
It was still day, that multicolored and variegated day that mystified me, in its unearthly beauty. The torches lit up the alabaster walls, the eaves of obsidian, pink and golden hues, and among them the will-o-the-wisps gave out flashes of blue, or green when they passed among the flames of a torch; the reflections danced all around. Someone had garlanded the columns with golden ribbons, which recalled those I wore in my hair, certainly in my honor. It was beautiful.
I realized that I no longer trembled. I walked down the arched aisles, where the torches were lit as I passed, and Hades court retreated into the shadows to let me pass. Behind me, Mint and Leuka were holding my hand, like two children, and Leuka hugged her ball, with tears in her eyes.
It was a very, very quiet candlelit wedding, very quiet.
