by Gina Carra
Megara stares at her in disbelief. “How could you even ask me that?!”
Hebe paces, chewing on her lip. “You knew her after Eros, right?”
Megara blinks. “Eros knows Hades?”
Hebe barks a laugh. “Eros fucked Hades. Keep up, Megara.”
Megara scoffs. “Eros has low standards.”
Hebe raises an eyebrow. “Oh really? From what I’ve heard, Eros has very high standards.”
Megara sighs, rolling her eyes. “Whatever. Why is Persephone with her?”
Hebe pauses, deciding to just tell her. “Eros said they’re fated. Persephone and Hades.”
Megara laughs loudly. “Sure. The flower goddess and the god of death. Yeah, totally compatible.” Hebe doesn’t speak. Megara watches her. “You’re serious?” Hebe nods. “Fuck. So…Eros’s arrow?” Hebe nods again. “Fuck.”
Hebe sighs. “Now you’re caught up.”
Megara’s fist clenches. “How do you know if she’s all right? Hades probably dragged her into the river the moment they got there. She certainly would if it were Herc. We should wake her up. She’ll be able to he—”
“Persephone’s fine.”
Megara laughs again. “Persephone’s with Hades. There’s no way she’s even remotely—”
Hebe cuts her off. “Megara, they’re fated. Hades is in love with her.”
Megara shakes her head. “That’s not possible. She’s the god of death.”
Hebe shrugs. “People change.”
Megara freezes. She glances at the door, confirming that Hercules can’t hear her. She whispers it and Hebe isn’t quite sure what to make of what she says, “People don’t change that much.”
Hebe collapses on the bed. “Tell me what happened with you, Herc, and Hades. Not the myth, not the legend. Tell me your story.”
Megara had a plain life as a mortal. As plain as the princess of Thebe’s life could be. She wished for two things: a husband and peace for her country. With wars raging and hope deteriorating, she started to pray to the god of death. She begged her to stop taking lives so needlessly, and then Hades was there. Hades seemed curious, and a little annoyed. She explained the death was the humans’ own fault and the wars should be blamed on Ares. It’s not her job to choose which lives to take, just to call out to their souls as their bodies give out and guide them to the Underworld where she looks over them.
But Megara kept praying to her.
So Hades recruited a follower. She’d give Megara tasks to complete on Earth for her, collecting items or herbs. It was just a test, to see if she’d do it. When Hades returned the next month, she was impressed, and this routine continued.
Unbeknownst to them, Hera had been watching. The goddess of marriage appeared before them and told them of a world-ending prophecy that could only be prevented with the death of a baby girl, a god.
Vehemently defending life, Megara refused to help. Hades had grabbed her wrist, using her memories to convince Megara that death is necessary. When Megara still refused, Hades threatened to drag her into the River Styx.
Against her will, Megara helped Hades find the child and steal her. She hesitantly handed off the child to Hades and watched them disappear to the Underworld.
Unseen by her, Hades moved with ease to force the child into the river, holding it submerged. The child’s cries were almost immediately replaced by Hades’s, but no one has ever heard that part of the story.
Hades stares curiously at the two chairs by her room.
Eros’s laughter still echoes in her ears and her heart thumps happily at the memory. Not to say she isn’t livid when she thinks about the past century, but with this third arrow pumping through her…
She’s conflicted about how to feel. She wants to be glad she can feel again at all, but the guilt that courses through her is crippling. She remembers the way Hercules’s pain had become her own as Styx rose from the waters to tell Hades she’d been deceived. Hera had faked the prophecy and blamed the murder attempt on Hades. It only further villainized her to the other gods, but Hades was helpless to change the narrative.
Regardless of the deceit, Hades still swims in shame when she thinks of holding the child submerged in the water.
The events surrounding Hercules aren’t the only things she regrets. She’s done a lot of…evil…in her time as ruler of the Underworld. It wasn’t until Eros that she was even able to understand the concept of consequences or guilt.
It wasn’t until Eros that she started to sympathize with the souls she ruled over and then as quickly as it had come, the emotion was gone again.
She stares at the two chairs and then at Persephone’s bedroom door.
She’s not an idiot. She knows having someone down here with her quite literally keeps her sane. Part of her never wants Persephone to leave, but she also doesn’t want Persephone to be trapped in this abyss. Persephone, like Eros, has responsibilities on Earth that she can’t take care of from here. Persephone, like Eros, will start to wither when she’s cut off from her powers too long. Hades can’t watch that happen again. They’re nearing on two weeks and Hades is waiting for the day that Persephone will no longer be able to stand up from her bed. This is the only thing Hades is good for—killing everything she touches. Persephone, like Eros, will find someone more worthy to love.
Snapping her out of her thoughts, Persephone opens the door and peeks out. Hades tenses. She’s pretty used to being down here alone, so she’d wandered out with just her pants and a vest on and she does not miss the way Persephone’s eyes trail over her.
Hades coughs. “Sorry, I’ll—”
Persephone shakes her head with a smirk as she steps out of her room. “Please, don’t. I may not need to eat, but I’m still hungry. Too bad you have that whole touching thing though.”
Hades blinks, torn between running to her room and pulling a shirt on or letting curiosity get the better of her. Her voice ends up dripping with sarcasm. “Hungry?”
Persephone shrugs, her white dress wrinkled. “You’re telling me you can read souls and you haven’t noticed how desperate I’ve been the last few days?”
Hades snorts. “I’ve noticed.”
Persephone raises an eyebrow. “Yet you haven’t tried anything? Even though I’m practically begging for it?” Persephone stops just a foot in front of Hades. Her hand reaches out, ghosting over Hades’s sternum but not touching.
Hades takes a step back. “I’m not tempted by what I can’t have.”
Persephone whines and it’s so childish and…human that Hades is captivated by it. “Oh, come on. You’ve gotta be able to magic a way for us to—”
Hades cuts her off. “Just wait two more weeks and go seduce some human.”
Persephone studies Hades’s face for a moment. “That’s a lot of disdain in your voice toward humanity.”
Hades rolls her eyes. “I haven’t met a lot of them and the ones I do always want to trade their souls for something. They’re desperate for something.”
Persephone pouts as Hades teases her. “You’re the one with the arrow. You can’t say you aren’t desperate for something right now.”
Hades smirks. “I’m really not. I don’t know. Maybe you’re just not as alluring to me as I am to you.”
Persephone scowls. Hades wants to laugh at Persephone’s exaggerated emotions. The energy of it all reminds her of Eros. “Me, the god with the beautiful soul you tried to draw, you’re saying I’m not alluring to you?”
Hades goes with it. “I can’t exactly sleep with your soul. Maybe if you die first…”
Persephone smirks, relieved to finally have coaxed Hades into playing around. “So we just hop back to Elysium, fuck as fast as we can, and get out. Then I only have to hear you scream for what, a few days?”
Hades snorts, smiling despite herself. “Days, huh?”
Persephone shrugs and Hades just laughs harder. Persephone’s smug expression melts into a smile. “You’re so much different than I expected.”
&nb
sp; Hades rolls her eyes. “You keep saying that.”
Hades can feel Persephone really looking at her. “It’s unbelievable though. Two weeks ago, I thought maybe you had me under some spell but…you’re really just…”
Hades swallows, unsure what word Persephone is thinking. “I’m what?”
Persephone watches for Hades’s reaction as she says it. “Good.”
Hades feels her blood turn cold. “I’m not.”
“I’ve heard a lot of stories and maybe they’re true. Maybe they’re not. But I don’t know a lot of people who would throw away two hours of—”
“It was two hours, Persephone! You really can’t think that’s a huge sacrifice! We’re gods! Two hours may as well be a blink. I’m not a good person. I just…I just value justice and you deserved to see your sister.” It’s quiet and for a few moments Hades is scared to look back at Persephone. She’s scared her words were too convincing.
Persephone laughs, low and quiet. “Only a good person would so vehemently deny that they’re good.”
Hades finally glances over only to see Persephone’s eyes dancing with amusement, a smile on her face.
Hades doesn’t change her expression. “Hermes is coming tomorrow.”
Persephone huffs and slumps her shoulders. It’s…It’s just so human. Hades wants to yell. All she’s been craving was more time on Earth and Persephone feels the embodiment of everything she’s been missing.
“Are you gonna hide in your cave again or are you gonna hang out with us?”
Hades shakes her head in disbelief. “I can be this person you want me to be, this good person…I can be that for the next two weeks while you’re here. But I don’t want you thinking that’s who I am once you’re gone. Once you’re gone, forget about me. I won’t be that person anymore.”
Persephone rolls her eyes. “Hermes said—”
“Ask Hermes about the past century.” Hades hesitates. “Ask Hermes what happened after Cue. If you hear all that and still want to hang out with me then I will.”
✽✽✽
Persephone gets Demeter’s letter. Demeter’s offended that Persephone called his letter ‘short’ so this one is truly a novel, maybe a novella. Demeter dictates his entire week from cracking an egg, to flipping it, to etc, etc. Persephone skims most of it. Demeter is really too petty for his own good. He mentions that Hebe’s wife is back and Persephone snorts and continues reading, glad to hear that Megara’s around again; she’s always liked her. But Persephone and Hercules never really got along.
Hercules had been gone a lot during her childhood and Persephone didn’t care to ask about it. It wasn’t her business. She knew it was some big conspiracy, but it didn’t affect her flowers, so she didn’t bother getting involved.
She’d heard enough from Hercules about how horrible Hades is…that’s why she’d been so terrified at first. But now…she doesn’t know what to think anymore.
She asks Hermes.
Hermes pretends to stare at the chessboard, but they’ve long ago established how awful they both are at this game, so it’s not a convincing method of stalling. Persephone lets him get away with it though.
Eventually, Hermes takes a breath, “You have to understand, no one had ever been shot by a lead arrow before.” Persephone’s thrown. She hadn’t expected this to be about the arrows. “Hades had always been…cold. But I’ve worked with her for…well, forever. She was never rude. She just…has a hard time with people. She rarely talks to anyone, ya know? She only ever got along with Eros and Eros forced Hades to be his friend. Hades was a different person when Eros was here. Like, a different person entirely. You wouldn’t, Persephone, you wouldn’t believe me. She never stopped smiling. She and Eros played tag. Tag. Can you imagine Hades playing tag? Do you know how weird it is that I can tell you the god of death was adorable? ’Cause she was.”
Hermes hesitates, staring at the board again. “The next week I came back, it was like a shadow had been cast over them. Eros could barely move. Hades was so worried she could barely talk. I heard about when they reversed the arrow so Eros could stay on Earth, but they said Hades vanished, so everyone was anxious for me to talk to her, to make sure she was okay. Eros especially wouldn’t leave me alone about it.”
Hermes glances up, staring at the closed door of Hades’s bedroom. “She was empty. It was like someone had scraped her heart out of her chest. She was a shell of a being with the powers of a higher god. I couldn’t get through to her. I kept trying and at one point she just wondered aloud if I’d be more useful swimming in Styx. It wasn’t even a threat. That’s what made it scarier. She legitimately was just…considering it.”
Hermes coughs, shrugging his shoulders. “Anyway, I stayed away for a few months, especially during the, uh, Hercules stuff. But you probably know about that. I checked back in after and she was getting better. The lead arrow was fading. And now you’re here…”
This was the part Persephone was the most curious about. She waited with bated breath. “I can tell she’s better. I can tell she’s…seeing the world in color, for lack of a better way to describe it, but she’s holding herself back.” Hermes smirks. “She’s scared of you.”
Persephone laughs. “Yeah, sure.”
Hermes raises an eyebrow. “I’m serious. You fucking terrify her.”
Persephone rolls her eyes. “How could I terrify someone as powerful as her?”
Hermes moves a white pawn across the board next to the black king. “You make her happy. Nothing scares her more than what happens after she’s allowed to be happy.”
Persephone shakes her head. “That’s stupid. She’s not going to need a lead arrow, though. She said it herself, this should fade.”
Hermes looks at her, suddenly very curious. “Has it? Faded?”
Persephone hesitates. “I mean…how would I know?”
Hermes glares at her. “It goes both ways, Persephone. You can’t tell me you don’t feel it at least every so often.”
Persephone shrugs, using Hermes’s excuse of looking at the chessboard. She mumbles her response. “I dunno, then no. I guess it hasn’t.”
Hermes nods, frowning. “Zeus won’t allow her to use a lead arrow again. Hades has been trying to find a way to steal one.”
Persephone’s eyes go wide. “How do you know that?!”
Hermes tugs at his bag with an innocent smile. “I’m the messenger. I know everything.”
Persephone struggles to absorb all this new information. “So if she takes the arrow…she turns into a psychopath again.” Hermes nods, grimacing but unable to deny it. “And if she doesn’t…I’m still trapped here.” Hermes hesitates, but nods again.
Persephone runs her hands through her hair. Hermes reaches over to pat her shoulder. “That’s why she hasn’t asked you for your opinion.”
Persephone drops her head in her hands, letting out a long sigh.
Hermes laughs without much humor. “Got anything else to talk about?”
Persephone’s voice is thick with sarcasm. “You don’t, by any chance, want to have sex right now?”
Hermes laughs loudly. “I guess Eros didn’t have to worry about, what do the humans call it, blue balls?” Persephone whines, unamused. “Oh gods, did you hit on Hades?”
Persephone looks up, panicked, “Do not tell Demeter.”
Hermes laughs even harder. “I can already tell you their responses. Demeter would slaughter you out of concern for you sleeping with the most feared god in existence and Hebe would probably high five you for the same reason.”
Persephone kicks Hermes under the table. “If you’re going to tell them, at least clarify that Hades is very hot first.”
Hermes presses a finger to his lips. “I won’t tell them.” Hermes studies Persephone, looking for weakness or pain, as the conversation fades. “You seem…okay.”
Persephone shrugs. “I mean, I miss the flowers, but yeah.”
Hermes looks at her intensely again and Persephone squirms. “No,
I mean, like…Eros was so weak he could barely stand at this point.”
Persephone blinks. “Oh.”
Hermes glances at his watch with a frown. Persephone glances at it too. Hermes seemed so old-fashioned. It’s odd and yet extremely on brand for him to have a human-designed time piece. He catches her staring. “It’s enchanted to show me every time zone at once.” His eyes shine, excited to brag about it for once and forgetting he was about to leave. She stares at the watch face but it’s covered in squiggles and wobbly arrows and constellations. He notices her confusion. “I guess…it’s a little hard to understand at first glance.” He clears his throat nervously. “Anyway, I have to go, but…whatever you’re doing, keep doing it.”
They exchange goodbyes and Persephone gives Hermes her letter for Demeter that tells the story of her reunion with Autumn.
As the silence falls after Hermes leaves, Persephone feels isolated for the first time in nearly two weeks. She hasn’t felt lonely. She misses her friends and her flowers but…she’s been able to enjoy Hades’s presence. And like Hermes said…she’s not limping.
She stares at Hades’s door, thinking about the ultimatum she’s facing. She can either stay here for who knows how long until the arrow actually fades, or she can help Hades acquire a lead arrow and put the entire universe at risk.
She wonders if the universe even misses the goddess of flowers.
She walks closer to Hades’s door and raises her hand to knock. She changes her mind at the last second and cups her hands to the door to yell through it. “I bet you fantasized about me while I was distracted.”
She hears an indignant squawk through the door as Hades fails to put together words in reaction to the accusation. Persephone falls back, laughing hysterically. As she heads into her own room, she ponders Hades’s reaction. They’ve been so formal with each other, only speaking when it was necessary, but Elysium changed everything. Hades has a sense of humor. She’s shy and selfless, withdrawn and woeful. Yet most shocking to Persephone is the thought that she had somehow gained the power to fluster the god of death.
✽✽✽
