by Gina Carra
Things change over the next week.
As much as Hades tries to be distant, Persephone can tell she’s relentlessly worried. Every time Persephone so much as sighs, Hades’s eyes flicker over her.
Persephone gets it, she does.
But Hades is treating Persephone like a piece of glass. She keeps waiting for Persephone to collapse like Eros did. They walk around the river every so often and Hades’s hand often falls on the small of Persephone’s back.
They don’t talk about it.
Mostly, Persephone tells Hades stories about souls she sees in the river and how her flowers helped them. She can sense the envy Hades emits as Persephone talks about how her power helps people. She’d like to think Hades helps people too, but she can’t quite figure out how since Hades always leaves her alone when she needs to work. Often, Persephone watches as Hades wanders away and sends wisps of smoke out onto the water. Once, Persephone caught a glimpse of the smoke leading a soul against the current to Elysium, but Hades spotted her and glared coldly so she stopped her attempted stalking.
Persephone still hits on her every so often, but it’s more just to see her laugh than anything else. Persephone starts to carry those gloves in her pocket, and she knows Hades has noticed but hasn’t asked.
During one of their walks along the bank of the river, Hades notices a crack in one of the walls and runs off to fix it. Persephone stares at the crack, intrigued by it. This world felt so powerful and oppressive, but she realizes then it’s still similar to Earth. Earth has its flaws as well, with things like tornadoes and earthquakes. As Hades goes off to fix it, Persephone tugs on the gloves. Smoke spirals and mends the cave, heals it...
Hades turns nonchalantly and is about to ask Persephone what they were talking about when she notices the gloves and her breath catches in her throat.
Persephone wiggles her fingers with a small smile. It’s not a tease right now and Hades knows it. Persephone’s asking permission.
Hades stands still and nods, a small motion.
Persephone steps in close, cupping Hades’s jaw in her gloved hands. Hades’s eyes flicker closed. Her voice is low and rough with emotion. “Why do you insist on…” Hades’s sentence fades, unable to name whatever this is.
Persephone caresses Hades’s cheek with her thumb, thoughts racing as her perspective of this dangerous and mysterious god gets turned on its head. “I think you deserve a bit of kindness, don’t you?”
Hades doesn’t answer, but they both know she doesn’t agree. Hades swallows nervously and tries to change the topic since she feels uncomfortable with this one. “You haven’t asked to go back to Elysium.”
Persephone recognizes that Hades is being avoidant, but she responds anyway. “And I won’t ask. That’s up to you. I’m not going to ask you to put yourself through that again.”
Hades lets out a rough sigh. “I told you, it’s not a big de—”
“You couldn’t move for hours. It’s a big deal.”
“Why do you care?” Hades’s eyes snap open, a blue flame simmering there. It’s an expression Persephone used to think was anger, but now all she can see in those eyes is fear. “I’ve been asking myself that all week. Why do you care?”
Persephone’s the one at a loss for words now. She keeps her hands on Hades’s face and smiles a little. “You know why.”
Hades tugs Persephone’s hands away, careful to avoid any skin contact. “I don’t.”
Persephone shakes Hades off to hold her wrist loosely, some instinct drives her to stay in contact. “Just think about it for half a second. Why do people care about each other?”
Hades shrugs. “That’s not really part of my job description to know.”
“It’s not really part of mine either.” Persephone hides behind vague statements.
Hades snarls, frustrated. “I don’t know what point you’re trying to make.”
Persephone frowns, her expression opposite to her words. “Why do you think Eros stuck around so long? Why do you think Hermes talks about you so reverently even though he’s seen your bad side?” Persephone pauses, but Hades waits. “No one knows why, Hades. We just…we make friends. It happens. We like something in another person. We enjoy being with them. We respect them. It could be anything. I like you. Maybe I’m a fucking moron, but I’d like to think we’re friends.”
Hades stares at her like she’s grown a second head. “…Friends?”
Persephone has a headache. She knew Hades would make this complicated, but she’d hoped Hades would be able to just accept it. She should’ve known she’d have to spell it out for her. “Yes, friends. And I know, oh, Hades doesn’t get out much, everyone hates Hades, but I know you’ve had friends before, so stop acting like this is fucking new to you.”
Hades tries to give her a reasonable answer but can’t think of one.
Persephone rolls her eyes with a sigh. “For fuck’s sake.” She tugs off a glove and presses her bare palm against Hades’s cheek.
Hades gasps, eyebrows furrowing as her eyes fall shut. Persephone can feel the memories Hades is seeing: the pain of losing Autumn, the thrill of reuniting with her—those are always at the front of her mind—the fear of being trapped here, the hesitance at giving Hades a chance, the attraction she didn’t even try to hide, and now this quiet hum of companionship. She focuses on that and hopes Hades can feel it.
Hades’s hand raises slowly and Persephone waits to be pushed away. She doesn’t expect the hand to cover her own gently.
Hades’s face relaxes, but her eyes stay closed. She holds Persephone’s hand in her own and takes a few deep breaths. “Friends.”
Persephone laughs and Hades finally opens her eyes. It’s like she’s a whole new person. There’s joy in her eyes, a childish sparkle. The first thought that comes to Persephone’s mind is: That’s the person Eros loved.
Persephone nods and steps in closer. She wraps her arms around Hades and for the first time since she arrived in the Underworld, she hugs someone.
She hadn’t realized how much she needed it.
They stand on the bank of the river like that for a while. It takes a couple of minutes before Hades works up the courage to return the hug.
Persephone eventually repositions her head so their cheeks brush lightly. Hades always talked about how this ability only allowed her to share in others’ pain, but now Persephone knows it can allow a shared joy as well.
Walls
Even with the first one out of the way, it takes a long time for Hades and Persephone to attempt more casual touches. Hades definitely won’t initiate them, and she still flinches when Persephone tries. Despite the connection—almost in spite of it—they spend a few days avoiding each other.
There’s this new brand of fear that floats between them. They’ve discovered a delicate balance of comradery between them, and any action or exchange of words might shatter it.
They find great relief in Hermes’s third visit. It slices through the tension in the air to have a third person around. As the last two times, Hades runs off to leave Persephone alone with Hermes, but this time she doesn’t go that far. She’s still visible along the banks of the river, whispering to souls and listening in return.
They both sneak glances at each other when they think the other isn’t looking. They seem convinced Hermes can’t tell, but they’re being incredibly obvious. He chuckles as he observes that Persephone is somehow even worse at chess now with this distraction that Hermes thinks to himself might possibly be fondness. “Do you two ever play chess?”
“What?” Persephone’s eyes flick back to Hermes’s as she’s caught staring.
Hermes glances at Hades and then back at Persephone. “You probably have a lot of time to ki—oh, that’s not funny…” He stares at the chess board, reliving a moment of embarrassment. “Uh, you have lots of time here. So do you play chess together? You and Hades?”
Persephone clears her throat, knowing damn well that Hades can hear her from almost anywhere. �
��Um, no, I guess we never have.”
Hermes moves a piece redundantly. He stares at the piece and wonders if he really should put time into learning this game at some point. “So what do you do? Anything…like what you mentioned last time? It’s just that you never asked for anything else for me to bring you to pass time. You must’ve found something that kept you busy.”
If Persephone had a drink, she’d have spit it out all over Hermes’s face. “Fuck, Hermes.” She rubs at the bridge of her nose, letting that question sink in. “Uh, no. No, we—We’ve just been talking. A lot of talking.” The answer settles over her and causes her to frown. “Wow, I really should’ve asked you for something. Next time you come we’ll only have a handful of days left.” She wonders about that, about how quickly time has been passing. She stares around the caves and thinks of Hades’s power, how it can destroy as well as it can create. “I’m sure we can think of something. I have a strangely encyclopedic knowledge of random human hobbies. Hebe and I make it a point to stay on top of trends and try out all the sports, games, anything that humans come up with.”
Hermes nods, a little relieved that that topic shied away from sex and a little surprised by Persephone’s confession that they’ve been talking so much she hadn’t even felt bored. “The Olympics originated with the Greeks. I think most of us follow the invention and evolution of sports.”
Persephone moves a piece idly, eyes narrowed as she scouts out potential amusements around the caves. “Hades could totally build hurdles. Or we could really go old school with a discus. The newer stuff is more fun though, in my opinion.”
“I don’t know much about any of the new stuff.” Hades’s voice is suddenly right behind her and causes Persephone to jump in her seat.
Persephone turns with a scowl. “Was it necessary to sneak up on me and interrupt our lovely conversation?”
“Yes.” Hades fails to conceal a grin.
Hermes doesn’t fare much better. He glances at his watch and takes off as Hades and Persephone start to bicker.
✽✽✽
Hebe holds a mug of hot chocolate as she stares through her bedroom door at her wife’s sleeping form. Guilt and fear pulse through her. Not fear of Hercules; despite everything, Hercules has never been cruel to her. No, Hebe fears herself.
The marriage had seemed like a good idea all those years ago. Megara had been offered as a wife to Hercules as a reward for when Hercules saved Thebes from…oh, who remembers. She’s saved Thebes so many times. It took the King much too long to offer a prize. Hebe considers that it must’ve been a shocking moment of gallantry for Hercules to deny a wife as a prize. They became friends, but Hercules refused for it to lead to marriage.
Everyone on Olympus knew Hebe to some extent. She got their drinks, laced with ambrosia to keep them young. She’s the one who poured Megara her first taste of ambrosia, commanded by Zeus to give Megara immortality and youth to make up for the terror caused by Hades. Hebe often tried to make small talk which most of the gods ignored. She’d spent time with them and she was trusted…but that doesn’t mean they knew her.
Hebe barely even knew herself. She’d slept with other gods and goddesses on Olympus and her fear only increased. She spent a night with Aphrodite, Aphrodite!, and it did nothing for her. She couldn’t borrow human vocabulary when she was still living in isolation on Olympus, but she knew she wasn’t interested in women.
The idea of marrying Hercules wasn’t exceedingly thrilling, but as soon as Zeus approached her about it, all she could see was a ticket out of servitude and a life, a future. She’d always been envious of the gods that got to work with the humans under their charge firsthand. She’d worked from a distance for so long, she jumped at the chance to get her hands dirty and do real work among them.
So she married Hercules. She had sex with her. She became her friend and grew an unpredictable yet present love with her. They were almost never on the same page, but they’ve been together for about thirty years now. It wasn’t a long time, not by any means, but Hebe was the god of youth and Hercules was so new to the world of gods. Hebe couldn’t help but be taken with her energy.
She was so different, so free. Yet they still couldn’t manage to vibe. Not like Hebe and Demeter.
Not even Demeter knows. Hebe has only spoken to one person about it—Persephone. Persephone had been comically persistent about figuring this out with Hebe. ‘Figuring this out’ meaning having sex. They tried…everything. The arrangement led to some resentment between Persephone and Hercules, mostly because Persephone couldn’t keep quiet about Hercules not giving her wife enough time and attention.
Hebe had to accept that she can’t love as freely as those around her. It felt so human to have her desire limited to one gender. She would watch Persephone flit from girl, to guy, to nymph, to human, to god. But Hebe didn’t want that.
She didn’t want women. She didn’t want Hercules.
She felt honor-bound to discuss it with her wife after twenty years of marriage. She thought she could make it work, she thought she’d get past it.
But she couldn’t. It was hardwired into her.
So Hercules slept around as usual, but there was the matter of her pride. Hercules loved the attention—she loved the worship—and here was her wife, unfazed by her.
When she caught Hebe with a human man, jealousy burned through her. They’d fought. And fighting with Zeus’s kid…Hebe had gone into shock for a bit.
Eventually they worked it out. Hercules would take off for a while and Hebe could be with whoever she wanted while Hercules was gone, but she never wanted to see Hebe with a man. She didn’t care if she came home to Hebe with a woman, or ten. But as soon as Hebe looked at a man, Hercules seethed.
So Hebe took to Megara and they became close friends and Hercules was so pleased, but then Hercules would leave…
Hebe sips at her hot chocolate and turns from the room. She cleans the mug quietly and slips out of the house to find Demeter.
✽✽✽
“You’re bored.” It’s not a question. Hades watches Persephone sitting at the table running her finger over the surface and tracing patterns.
Persephone smiles awkwardly at her. “Um. I mean, maybe a little.”
Hades nods, thinking. “Do you have any favorite hobbies? Something…that doesn’t involve your ability?”
Persephone thinks of the desk in Hades’s room. “Like how you sketch?”
Hades rubs at her neck, shyly. “Yeah, like my sketches.”
“Huh.” Persephone ponders that. “I’m down for anything. There’s always—”
“Don’t say sex.” Hades throws her a tired look.
Persephone giggles and mimes zipping her lips.
Hades laughs under her breath. “You’re unbearable. Here I was trying to offer to make you something.”
Persephone pouts. “Aww, please make me something. We’re friends now, right? Think of how many of my birthdays you’ve missed.”
Hades throws her a quizzical glance. “You celebrate your birthday?”
Persephone snorts. “Not really. Only to get free dessert at restaurants.” Hades absolutely doesn’t follow. Persephone changes the topic. “Oh! You said you don’t know much about new sports, right? Not that anything is really new per se, just popular.” Persephone looks around and laughs at herself. It’s really such an obvious choice. “Know what’s a trendy hobby for humans right now?” It’s a very pointless thing to ask. Of course Hades doesn’t know. She just said she doesn’t know. Persephone stutters out the answer before the silence can get awkward. “Uh, rock climbing!” She gestures around the rock walls of the Underworld. “This is actually a…well you keep the walls really smooth. But rough them up, get some cracks and uneven surfaces in there and we can totally climb around the walls.”
Hades stares at her, feeling like she’s being pranked. “Rock climbing.” She says it in a monotone.
Persephone rolls her eyes. “I promise it’s fun. They just added it to t
he Olympics so it would be very Greek of us to try.”
Hades opens and closes her mouth once before actually responding. “They climb walls…? Why?”
Persephone laughs softly. “It’s fulfilling, I dunno. I mean as gods we’re all pretty strong, but humans really love to test the limits of their physicality. It’s mentally and physically challenging and when you reach the top it’s—ah, it’s just such a great feeling. You’ll have to try it for yourself to understand.”
Hades turns and stares at a wall. “Rock climbing.” She says it again, but tendrils of blue smoke curl out from her palms and start to chip at the wall, creating ledges to hold onto.
Persephone’s eyes light up. “You go first.”
Hades walks forward, placing her hands on the wall. She turns back to look at Persephone. “Humans are very strange.”
Persephone gestures for her to start. “Just try it.”
Hades turns back to the wall and ledges she made. She pulls herself off the floor and tenses, focusing on her body in a way she rarely does. She reaches up for a higher ledge and a small thrill shoots through her as she catches it. “Huh.” She looks behind her at Persephone. “But this still makes no sense.”
Persephone presses her lips together, totally knowing that Hades is intrigued. “Just wait ‘til you get to the top.”
Hades makes her way up the wall with careful, powerful movements. She doesn’t speak as she works dedicatedly. If Persephone’s eyes linger on Hades’s biceps, it’s purely academic so she can give Hades tips as she climbs. Hades reaches the top of the wall with a satisfied sigh. “Now what?”
“Let go.” Lounging on the floor, Persephone looks up at Hades with amusement. “You’ll be fine.”
Hades drops to the floor and immediately looks at the wall curiously. “But it’s just…climbing a wall.”
“And yet, it’s totally exhilarating.” Persephone prods at Hades. “You feel totally proud of yourself, don’t you?”
Hades has to admit, “I do.” Her voice is soft and confused, but she’s not one to lie. She keeps staring at the wall. “Huh.”
