Chapter Text
There were no words in any language or dialect to accurately describe the beauty of the Elysian Fields. No words yet, Persephone amended thoughtfully from where she lay among a sprawling meadow of asphodels.
Since the very first moment she had laid eyes on the eternal resting place of the pure and the virtuous, Persephone had sought, tirelessly so, for a word that could describe the utter majesty of the ethereal plane.
Time marched on, Age after Age, and still the Goddess was without success. For there were simply no words in existence that satisfied her. No words to capture the arresting verdant hills that stretched far in every direction or the gleaming rivers with their crystalline waters or the stunning emerald trees that bore fruit that never withered, leaves that never dropped…
There were no words.
Yet.
She sighed quietly, relaxing further into the soft springy grass, the moist soil smelling of Life; a smell that nourished her greatly. Above her the sky loomed large and azure, a cloudless blue more intense and vibrant than had ever been seen by the world above. An immortal sky for it had no proper sun to light it by day, and yet, it was eternally warm and bright.
To think that such a place could exist in the Underworld…
The Underworld… A place where the dead came to be judged and were either sent to Heaven, otherwise known as the Elysian Fields, or damned to Tartarus. Though, now, the mortals called it Hell.
A miserable, grotesque word. Why couldn’t the mortals just stay with Tartarus? Why did they have to invent new words and names for damnation? For endless pain and suffering?
Did they find wickedness and sin intriguing, perhaps?
The very thought made her shiver, a subtle grimace flickering briefly across her ethereal visage. To console herself, Persephone caressed a hand through a cluster of young asphodels, the gaggle of flowers bursting into exquisite bloom just from the sheer joy of being touched by the Goddess of Spring.
The beautiful blossoms whispered and sighed, their fragile stems leaning toward her in the grass, reaching for her as a babe would its mother.
She smiled.
“Why must you spoil them? If you have patience they will bloom on their own; they do not need aide. Or, is this a bid to make me jealous, lover?”
The Goddess glanced beside her to see a man who had not been there before. He was stretched out on his side, head propped up by an elbow as if he’d been there for hours instead of seconds. He had a long, powerful body draped in sable robes that were forever at odds with her own scintillating viridescent peplos.
Dark hair framed his chiseled face and just barely skimmed a set of strong, broad shoulders. Persephone found herself smiling happily at the sight of her husband.
“You? Jealous of flowers?” she giggled with a playful twist of the head. “Oh my! What will the other Gods and Goddesses say when they hear of such, I wonder?”
“It is my right to be jealous of anything that draws your gaze away from mine,” the Death God declared with a scowl, and unable to resist the fierce set of his lips, Persephone leaned over to place a simple, sweet kiss on his mouth.
She pulled back slowly. “And it is my right to assure you that my gaze shall never stray from yours, not for anything or anyone,” she murmured with utter sincerity, green-gold eyes alight with love and devotion.
“Only the Goddess of Spring could speak such words and mean them when only a second ago her focus had been ensnared by mere flora,” he muttered darkly even as his black eyes gleamed with mirth.
Persephone laughed. “Oh do be careful, dear husband! For you as well were ensnared by mere flora… along with the Goddess that gave said flora Life.”
“Yes, quite an apt term. Ensnared. I was ensnared by you, dear wife,” the God of the Underworld intoned deeply, with a suggestive, sly smile that immediately brought a rosy blush to Persephone’s cheeks the moment she saw it.
Her husband leaned back to rest fully in the grass and motioned her closer by opening his arms. Without hesitation the Goddess lunged into his embrace, and snuggled against his chest, sighing softly as he ran his hands through her long, silky blonde hair.
None of the other Gods and Goddesses would ever know how kind the God of the Underworld was; to them it was an impossibility. To them the God of the Dead was an entity of darkness and death. Of cruelty and heartlessness.
They believed he relished in his power, that he enjoyed giving death, that his heart was as dark as the realm he commanded.
Hearing such talk about her husband always made Persephone laugh. For how dark could Hades be when the Elysian Fields existed within the very realm he ruled? Possessing a dark heart? Her lord and husband? Her lover?
Utterly preposterous.
Those many Gods and Goddesses knew absolutely nothing of her lover’s heart, or of the compassion hidden within. They knew nothing at all.
“You’ve been gone awhile. Tell me, Hades, what has kept you away today?” Persephone asked as she nuzzled under his chin. “I missed you,” she whispered against his skin.
“I walked the realms.” His rich voice rumbled into her from where she lay against his chest.
“And what did you see?”
“Mortals. Powerful mortals. Intelligent mortals. Mortals seeking adventure. Mortals fighting mortals. Foolish mortals. Pure mortals. Cursed mortals…”
That was another thing the others always got wrong. Hades didn’t despise mankind, didn’t scorn the mortals for their humanity. He loved them. And there was never a moment in time when he wasn’t in awe over how they utilized the life they were given, how they made the most out of their ephemeral lifespans. It was amazing what one human could accomplish in only a few short decades.
Even the countless dastardly souls he’d damned to the pits of Tartarus couldn’t taint the love he had for mankind. But a God could easily taint such love, especially when it is a fragile, mortal love, he mused privately.
With that dreary thought the God of the Dead lapsed into pensive silence. Sensing the change in mood, Persephone looked up to try and see his expression, but at her angle she could only see the line of his chiseled jaw. A tightly clenched chiseled jaw…
“Something is wrong,” the Goddess of Spring elucidated firmly. “What happened? Did you see something that upset you?”
“I did, indeed.”
Persephone pushed herself up with her hands so she could look down on him. Hades watched her move with those penetrating onyx eyes of his, an entire spectrum of conflicted emotion within their dark depths. She brushed the very tips of her fingers over the severe frown monopolizing his lips.
“Please, tell me, what has made you frown so?”
Hades growled unhappily, the expression on his face stiff and ominous. Yet it was the sound of his displeasure and not his foreboding visage that gave her chills. For despite his kind nature, the God of the Underworld was still an entity that none should ever trifle with.
Catching her reaction, Hades pulled her back into the circle of his arms, murmuring soothing words to calm her back into a peaceful state.
Sometime later when Persephone settled and the silence became too expectant. “I found a soul,” he began, still frowning, the edge of danger in his expression restrained but no less potent. “Death should have claimed him centuries ago, yet still he lives.”
“A mortal soul with immortality? How is that even possible? All mortals must die; it is the way of Life and Death. I… do not understand.”
“Neither did I at first, but then I investigated how such could be possible and what I found… I did not like.”
Persephone stared at her husband with wide eyes glittering with confusion… and dread. “What did you find?”
“A God.” Hades’ voice came out low and raw, its tone frozen over with a quiet fury and a biting disgust that almost made Persephone flinch when she heard it.
“I found a God that has abused his power, used his divinity against the very thing he was charged to guard and to guide. A God that has twisted Life and Death out of its cycle. What I found was an… abomination… of Fate.”
The Goddess of Spring gasped, physically recoiling away to stare, horrified, at her husband. “A despicable God!” she cried in response. “I can’t imagine using my… Doing such a selfish… How terrible! And the soul! What did this God do to the soul?” Persephone questioned fiercely.
Hades closed his black fathomless eyes a moment, taking the time to carefully word his answer before opening them to stare his beloved right in the eye. He could not lie to her, though the truth would only bring her soft heart pain.
“It is true. By my will those souls darkened by wickedness are dragged to suffer for their sins in Tartarus. Yet, it is by their own will and their own choices that make it so, I have no hand in how a soul lives the life they are given. I am merely the God that deals the punishment and the reward.”
Hades tilted his head back to stare, narrow-eyed, at the lush canopy waving gently in the wind above him. He continued his explanation gruffly. “However, this God, this… Ankhseram has defiled the order of things. He has interfered with a mortal soul, twisting and tainting his Fate, all for his own purposes, his own depraved agenda.”
Persephone whimpered, a dainty hand raised to cover her mouth in horror. “How…? We cannot directly interfere if a mortal still lives, it’s just not possible!”
Hades met the shocked gaze of his wife squarely, something like revulsion in his eyes for what he was about to say. “This God is a defiler; he cares not for the mortals he presides over or the ways of other Gods and Goddesses. To further his disgrace… he has taken a soul so full of love and potential and filled it with death and despair. He has punished a mortal whose only sin was the love he held for a brother…”
“This soul… You’re telling me… this soul was punished for an act of love!? For simply loving another?” the Goddess of Spring exclaimed with blatant disbelief, anguish edging into her pale features.
“That is the half of it,” Hades answered grimly, barely restrained rage in his voice, in his eyes... “The God, Ankhseram, cursed the mortal for daring to raise the dead back to life.”
Persephone shook her head, pink lips pursed and trembling. “So he… he cursed some poor mortal for wanting to bring his brother back? For daring to reclaim a love that had been lost to him? Unspeakable! Love is sacred! Yes, I can understand why this God might be angry; mortals should never encroach upon something as ancient and powerful as Death… but if it’s an act of pure love and not for power or greed then it should be commended, not condemned.”
“Hence, why I am upset, for never have I had a soul in my care that was unjustly sentenced, and to see one treated so by another God leaves me riddled with anger. I came back because I could not stand by and calmly watch his suffering, I did not desire to bask in such a sight,” the God of the Dead rumbled, a laden note of regret in his voice.
The Goddess of Spring sat up, blonde brows furrowed as she thought something over. “Earlier you said this mortal soul seemed immortal… Is it because of the curse? What sort of curse causes immortality?” she asked haltingly, a part of her wanting to know more, while the other part of her just wanted to lay back in the grass, cry for the soul, and learn no more.
“It is called the Curse of Contradiction,” Hades said brusquely, thin lips curled in obvious distaste. “And yes, the curse is to blame for the mortal’s strange deathless state. But this curse is cruel and insidious; even the purest of souls under its influence would turn to evil and love itself into ashes under its thrall. The curse immortalizes the victim to prolong their suffering, suffering brought on by the rampant death they exude whenever they value life more than their own.”
Hades loosed a heavy breath then, an angry sneer slashed across his mouth. By his side Persephone sat, eerily still, her pretty green-gold eyes wider than ever before.
In the light of the Elysian Fields they glistened and glimmered with unshed tears.
“So… he—the mortal—kills everything around him? He tried to bring his brother back to life and for that he… he was cursed with death…? An eternity of loneliness and isolation… Oh, Hades, it’s so terrible! I can’t imagine living such a wretched, desolate life!”
She sobbed softly, the tears in her eyes falling like diamonds down her flushed cheeks. In response, Hades sat up and hugged his weeping wife to him, that hidden tender heart of his clenching with pain, regret and rage.
“I apologize, sweet wife. I should not have unburdened my— “
“No!” Persephone interrupted vehemently, teary eyes alight with determination as well as sorrow. “No, dear husband. I am glad you did, though it saddens me terribly to know such a tale, I am glad of the knowledge. Now we can do something to help!”
“Help?”
Persephone huffed delicately. “We will do something. We must do something. I cannot – will not – stand for such actions… or curses. That poor soul! I can’t bear the thought of an existence without life and all the precious gifts it can give: family, friendship, love… An existence without love is no existence at all; you of all Gods know this to be true!”
Hades nodded solemnly at that last bit. Because it was true… Before the love of Persephone, the God of the Underworld had been everything the other Gods and Goddesses had thought him to be. He had been a cold and menacing creature, one without love or compassion, then he’d seen the Goddess of Spring and everything changed. He changed.
And yet…
“We can do very little, dear wife,” Hades stated frankly. “Remember, this soul does not reside in our realm, so our reach can only go so far. We cannot interfere directly.”
Persephone tapped her chin in thought. “Maybe so, but sometimes an… indirect course of action can be more effective, rather than an overt one.”
A short meditative pause later saw a brilliant smile blooming on the Goddess’ face. “Oh! I’ve an idea! Love! Oh yes! Love! Hades! We will give him love! A new love! A love that cannot be touched by that dreadful curse! Or that dreadful God! Oh, it’s perfect! We will find his soul mate and give her an apple from the Hesperides Garden!!”
Hades closed his eyes and grimaced, shoulders tensing. A reaction that was not lost on Persephone. “Do you not like my plan, Hades?” she asked, a note of dejection and doubt in her clear, mellifluous voice.
The Death God brushed some hair back from his wife’s beautiful face, the hand around her waist squeezing in reassurance. “It is not that I do not like your plan, my love. It is just that it, unfortunately, will not work. Not for this soul, I’m afraid.”
Persephone peered up at him with dispirited green-gold eyes. “But why?”
Hades pulled the Goddess of Spring further into his embrace, hands brushing over her soothingly and whispered the words he wanted more than anything to swallow and never give voice to, “His soul mate is dead. The curse… killed her.”
It pained him to speak the words, to dampen the light in those gorgeous eyes, and it killed him to see those green-gold eyes spill over with fresh tears. Tears he could feel as they soaked through his robe.
“There must be something we can do!” Persephone cried into his chest, the flowers around her leaning into her, whispering softly in a bid to soothe their mother-goddess but she continued to weep. “There must be, husband!”
Hades exhaled gently, that ancient mind of his working relentlessly towards something, anything to put a smile back on his beloved’s face again. He despised her tears. He despised anything that made her unhappy. By Tartarus if he ever came face to face with Ankhseram…
The God of the Dead seethed silently.
For making his wife cry tears of sorrow, that fool God had unknowingly made an enemy of him. Though he could not interfere in a realm that wasn’t his own, regrettably. If only he cou—
An epiphany struck him into silence without warning.
Hades felt his eyes widen, narrow, and widen again as the idea poured into his mind. It could work…
It wasn’t perfect, but it was the start of something.
He could not interfere directly in a realm not his own, but he could, perhaps, send someone else indirectly who could.
Hades said as much to the downtrodden Goddess in his arms.
Who, at his words, seemed to perk up with newfound energy, dainty hands scrubbing at her tear-stained cheeks as she thought it over, lips pressed together in a pout that highlighted her feminine allure.
The God of the Dead knew his wife well and knew when that particular air of focused deliberation was present that he should be quiet and let her mull it over. So he stayed silent and held her, offering his comforting presence while he waited for her to arrive at an answer that would satisfy her tender heart.
Abruptly, an indefinite time later, Persephone seemed to jolt back into her body with a squeal and lunged her arms around his neck to hug him tightly. A second later she pulled back and kissed him soundly, intimately, lips spread in a dazzling smile as they pressed against his.
Before he could recuperate the surprising gesture, the Goddess of Spring sprang to her feet and danced around him, laughing and grinning like an excitable wood nymph in spring. Hades could only stare, heat in his gaze, from where he lay sprawled in the grass, a sigh of relief on his lips as he watched the vision of absolute beauty frolic in triumph before him.
He smiled.
“Did you find something to help, lover,” he questioned in a rich, deep voice, black eyes half-lidded as he tracked the Goddesses every agile movement.
Persephone whirled around to face him, the light of her smile blinding. “Yes!” she laughed joyously. “But you have to trust me!”
“Of course,” he answered without hesitation, and the proud sincerity in his voice made Persephone beam, green-gold eyes shining with love and fierce resolve.
She sashayed closer and held out one delicately boned hand, smiling all the while and said, “Come then, dear husband, we have an audience with the Goddess of Love and we shan’t be late!”
Hades blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “What?” he asked, as a hand raised to instinctively twine with Persephone’s, and then he was on his feet and moving behind a fleet-footed Goddess.
“That despicable God took away his soul mate, so I thought, why don’t we give him another one! Oh, isn’t it perfect, Hades! We can give that poor soul another chance at love! Come, we must go see Aphrodite!” the Goddess of Spring called from over her shoulder, green-gold eyes glittering with excitement and hope.