A Matter of Life and Death

by momithastobeclever

Summary:

After his retrieval from Tartarus, the dour Lord of the Underworld has a serendipitous encounter with his bride-to-be -- the beautiful and enigmatic Persephone, Goddess of Spring.

Notes:

• Inspired by Hercules (1997) by Disney

Chapter 1: New Beginnings Meet Old Endings

     Spring. Hades thought bitterly. Again.

      The Lord of the Underworld watched with glowing eyes as a single flower petal bobbed slowly passed his nose. Snatching it out of the air in one swift motion, Hades reduced the leaflet to embers in a small violet puff of smoke. Hermes, who’d been relaxing on the bow of an olive tree nearby, eyed him discomfitly from his perch.

     “The appeal continues to escape me.” Hades jeered, flicking flakes of stiff gray ash away from his fingers.

     Hades was on one of his semi-regular reconnaissance missions, gathering any salvageable blackmail material he could on his brothers. Since his retrieval from Tartarus, he’d been under close observation by his Olympian constituents. They couldn’t risk another titanic fiasco.

     Poor Hermes had even (begrudgingly) been assigned his not-so-temporary chaperone. How hard could it be? Zeus had mused. Report any suspicious behavior back to me. Which had sounded simple enough at the time, but everything Hades did seemed suspicious and keeping him out of trouble proved more difficult than Hermes could’ve imagined. Especially when it was a slow day in the Underworld.

     Suddenly, a faint orange glow—like a loose beam of sunlight—caught Hades’s attention from some distance away.

     “Who is that?” Hades whistled.  Hermes turned to see what could possibly be interesting enough to distract him from grousing about Spring.

     The messenger god squinted through his spectacles and caught a glimpse of her.

     Across the field from them, standing under an apricot tree, was a woman. Only, Hades judged by the way she glowed, and the way she was able to simply poof! fruit out thin air,  that she couldn’t possibly have been mortal.

     The pair of deities were close enough to this mystery goddess that the hankering God of the Dead could just make out how lovely she was; long copper curls, gentle, focused green eyes. Even from this distance, her benign disposition washed them both in a warm, comfortable sense of ease — the kind that Spring was known for. It was almost as if she herself was the season incarnate.

      One by one, the goddess continued plucking fruits lazily from the branches and dropping them into a basket at her feet.

     Hermes adjusted his spectacles, just barely catching an eager Hades by the neck of his chiton with the arc of his caduceus.

     “Whoa, whoa— cool it, Ace. That one’s off limits.”

     Hades tossed his hands down at his sides in frustration and rolled his eyes.

     “What’s the big deal? Geez, it’s like you topsiders are committed to keeping me from having a love life, like honestly.”

     The messenger deity wafted around Hades with ease, tossing a thumb over his shoulder toward the mystery goddess.

     “You know who that is, don’t you? That’s Demeter’s kid, man. Hustling her is a huge no-no.”

     “Hustle? Please — who said anything about hustling? I’m just trying to get the gal’s name.”

     Hermes tilted his little purple spectacles down with a skeptical look. The Lord of the Underworld ignored him.

     “So, you know her?” Hades had an all-too-familiar and unsettling gleam in his eye. The Lord of the Dead threw an arm around Hermes’s shoulders and offered him an impish grin.

     “What’s her name, huh? Hermes, babe —throw a death god a bone, will ya?”

     Hermes looked about ready to protest when all the bells went off in his head at once. Ding! Ding! Ding! —  maybe he was onto something here.

      With Hades distracted — and happy —chasing a wife around like a love-struck puppy dog, he and the rest of the Olympians could take a load off. No more half-baked schemes or hostile takeover attempts. No more pointless intrusions or aggressive come-ons. And most importantly, Hermes wouldn’t have to take time out of his already overbooked schedule to babysit. They’d be sitting pretty for the rest of eternity. It was perfect.

      At the poor gal’s expense, He thought only slightly ruefully. Or not, maybe by some miracle she’ll actually like him.

     They’ll work it out, a desperate Hermes concluded mentally, waving his hand in the air, trying to ease his guilty conscience.

     “What are you asking me for? You should ask her yourself, you know— the old-fashioned way.” The messenger god shrugged nonchalantly with a smile teetering on sly, tapping his caduceus in his open palm.

     Hades fluffed out his chiton and smoothed back his smoldering coiffure.

     “Sit tight, flyboy, and watch the master at work—”

     Now, it would have been difficult to miss Hades’s broad physique looming above her like a black cloud, blocking her strip of sun, but if she knew he was standing there beside the trunk she didn’t acknowledge him. The beautiful mystery goddess simply continued to pick tiny golden fruits off the tree and drop them into her already overfilled basket.

     Hades cleared his throat after a few moments, and she looked up at him only briefly.

     “Look— harvest complaints are Demeter’s department.” She said, a pinch sourly, “I just work here.”

     “If you have a problem with this year’s crop, take it up with her.”

     Hades blinked.

     “Seriously? That’s what you think I’m doing?”

     She eyed him for a moment. He waited for her to show some sign of recognition, but the goddess didn’t even flinch. Hades gestured toward her with outstretched hands.

     “No offense, but your Ma was the last thing on my mind when I saw you standing over here— I mean, c’mon, really? Pretty little thing like you, all by yourself? I’da been a fool to pass up the opportunity to introduce myself.”

     He thrust out his long skeletal fingers in greeting as if to shake her hand.

     “Hey, how ya doin’? Hades, Lord of the Dead, Reaper of Souls, yada yada. You get it.”

     She chuckled softly and swept bronze curls over her shoulder, her tenor lightening some. She manifested another perfectly ripe apricot on a low hanging branch.

     “Oh, I’m familiar.”

     Hades pursed his lips and steepled his fingers with a smirk.

     “I see my reputation precedes me— what am I, some kinda celebrity up there on the roof of the world?”

     “More like a felon,” She retorted with a dry smile, turning back to her work. Charmed by her repartee, Hades appeared on the other side of the tree and leaned forward onto the trunk.

     “That’s cute— you’re cute— Well, you know, beggars can’t be choosers I guess but, hey— I saw you standing over here, all by your lonesome and thought you could use some company. What’s your name, chickadee?”

     The mystery goddess popped out a hip and rooted her palm to it. Hermes watched Hades’s desperate flirtations, amused, and slightly hopeful, from a safe distance. He’d half expected the almost entirely anti-social Persephone to brush Hades off immediately and was pleasantly surprised that—somehow— the God of the Dead had held his ground.

     Hermes crossed his fingers behind his back. Home stretch— here’s hoping he doesn’t blow it.

     “Take a wild guess.” She replied. Hades’s reputation for hitting on nearly every unattended goddess in the Pantheon wasn’t lost on her, but she was bored, and this beat the hours she’d otherwise be spending listening to her mother wax poetic over a tablet of annual crop output.

     He rubbed his hands together and grinned.

     “Oh, Ho Ho— you’re not going to make this easy on me, are you? Let’s see, let’s see…”

     The Lord of the Underworld slumped coolly against the trunk, scratching his chin thoughtfully. He studied her with a bold and scrupulous eye. Hades wasn’t one to back off in the face of a challenge, and for someone who lacked patience in pretty much every capacity, he had a knack for getting himself mixed up in long-term plots.

     “Judging by your accoutre— very lovely, by the way, really brings out the green in your eyes— you’re some… kinda… nature goddess, am I right?”

     “You’re getting warmer.” She tapped the tip of her nose, tickled.

     “Something springy— like uh, Juniper? Nah. Jennifer maybe? Josephine, Jacqueline?”

     The goddess rolled her eyes, and he could tell he was beginning to get under her skin, “What were you the god of again? Annoying people to death? You aren’t even going alphabetically.”

      “What can I say? I like to start in the middle and work my way out,”

     Hades walked two fingers up the ridge of her shoulder where she swatted them away casually with the back of her hand. Unbothered by her annoyance, Hades smirked. Sensing he was finally starting to wear her down, the death god dug his heels in and leaned closer to her.

     “You know what, I think I’ve got it— Jane right? Maybe it’s Julia? Johanna? Listen babe, I can do this all day.”

     “That’s it—you’re impossible.” She threw up her hands with an airy, exasperated sigh and bent to gather her spoils.

     Hades chuckled, reached around her and stole one of her apricots. The goddess lifted a brow and pursed her lips.

     “You know babe, I’m pretty sure this is the longest any goddess has tolerated me, like ever, I’m starting to think I’m growing on you...” He wiggled his brows at his own pun, rolling the fruit back and forth in his palm as it shriveled into a wrinkly, indistinct lump, decaying nearly instantly at his touch. She let out an exaggerated groan of disapproval.

     “Unbelievable. He makes jokes now.”

     Hades wiped his hands clean on his chiton of the rotted apricot juice and gave a defensive shrug, gesturing animatedly at her person.

     “What? That was some of my best material. C’mon, seriously, Petals— can I call you Petals? — what’s a guy gotta do to get a girl’s name huh? You want me to dance a jig? I’ll do it, don’t tempt me,”

     The goddess set her closed fists on her waist and sighed wearily.

     “You really aren’t going to leave me alone until I tell you, huh?”

     Hades examined his fingernails and gave her an obstinate shake of his head.

     “Persephone,” she said finally, extending out her hand to him. “Goddess of Spring.”

     Hades’s face lit up with a smug look of satisfaction. Using her outstretched hand as leverage, he pulled her in just close enough that she could feel his breath on her face.

     “Charmed,” He hummed, pressing a loud kiss to the back of her hand.

     “So, Persy—"

     “Persephone—"

     “Yeah, yeah— right, right— Persy,”

      Before Hades could finish his thought, Persephone carefully pulled her hand away from him with a pleasantly bemused smile. Stepping backward, she bumped the heel of her sandal against her basket of apricots.

     “Sorry— Hades, this has been fun, but I know for a fact I’m not supposed to be talking to you and I’m sure you don’t want to get caught wandering around up here, so….” Persephone tossed her hand up in a parting gesture before collecting her fruit basket and leaning it expertly against her hip. Judging he had maybe a matter of seconds before she left and never came back, Hades lifted his hands haltingly.

     “Yeah— and if you know anything about me, then I’m sure you know I don’t follow the rules very well.” He insisted, following closely beside her.

     Persephone quirked a brow.

     “Hold on— listen, listen,”

     Hades floated around her silently like an early morning fog rolling off the Aegean. It might have bothered Persephone how quiet and quick he moved had she not already seen him do it once before. He plucked a freshly opened apricot blossom off the branch closest to them and delicately pinned back her hair with it.

     “You’re alone— I’m alone, what say we be alone together, huh?” He clasped his fingers together, “You look like you could use a break, and I could use some feminine company,”

     He expected immediate rejection. Every moment she spent not turning her nose up at him was, in his mind, a tiny victory. He figured it was now or never — cast in his line and see what he caught.

      “You mean, like a date?”

     “Yes! Exactly like a date, you read my mind,”

     She seemed to consider his request. Which to him was a good sign. Hades felt a long-buried part of himself begin to feel hopeful. What were the odds he might find himself so close to success? About as unlikely as you’d think.

     “As tempting as that sounds, we just met and—" Persephone smiled, delicately unpinning the blossom and placing it in his open palm, “I’m on duty,”

     “Semantics. C’mon, the world’s not gonna end if you play hookie for a day. What are you, miss-goodie-two-sandals or somethin’? Don’t you ever cut loose?” Hades crossed his index finger over his heart, “I promise I’m a better time than I look—"

     When she still didn’t seem convinced, Hades began to feel defeated. Across the field, the messenger god hovered.

     That’s my cue.

     Hermes appeared beside Hades before he could protest further and whispered behind his hand into the Lord of the Underworld’s ear,

     “Tell her you’ll bring your dog— chicks dig dogs, works like a charm.”

     Hermes grinned at the shrewd Persephone innocently. Hades straightened out the clasp on his chiton, cleared his throat and folded his hands once again.

     “Listen— I’ll bring my dog.”

     “Cerberus—?”

     Hades nodded. Her eyes glittered.

     Eagerly, and with considerably less hesitation than either visiting deity expected, Persephone yanked forward on Hades’s sleeve and blurted out an excited,

     “Deal!”

 

 

 

Chapter 2: The Underworldly Day Out

Summary:

Persephone takes a trip to the domain of the dead -- Hades discovers that there is more to the Goddess of Spring than meets the eye.

 

     Charon couldn’t help but stare up in stunned silence as the lovely Goddess of Spring gingerly boarded his ferry. She took no offense, Persephone was sure she was the last person he’d expected to meet at the headwaters of the River Styx.  

     Hades offered his hand as leverage, and Persephone took it, leaning heavily into his palm as she secured her footing on the deck of Charon’s gondola. Slipping  into the bench seat facing her with ease, Hades crossed his legs and folded his hands together over his knee, casually.  It was evident he’d done this a few times before.

     Persephone examined the dreary, dark interior of the Underworld with a spirit of inquiry; this place could not have been more different than anything she’d ever known, and with all the horror stories floating around about Hades’s domain she expected the landscape to be a bit more… hellish.

     “You seem remarkably at ease for someone just entering the realm of the dead for the first time,” Hades commented, slumping back comfortably in his seat, an arm draped across the taffrail of Charon’s gondola. He smirked, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’ve been here before— which, you know, is impossible considering  my ‘no escape’ policy is air tight,” Hades smirked.

     “And if all goes according to plan, it’ll stay that way.”

     Persephone gave him a pawky, narrow-eyed smile.

     “Hades you might be surprised to know death and I go way back,” Persephone replied, glancing over the bow and into the river of hollow, lifeless faces pulled endlessly downstream by the current of the Styx.

     “We’re old friends, you know.”

     Hades blinked and offered a full fanged grin.

     “Got a bit of a dark streak, don’t you? Correct me if I’m wrong, but, I get the impression there’s more to you than meets the eye, Petals.”

     “You have no idea,”

     The Lord of the Dead let out a little amused snort.

     “So, tell me — what is it about you and death being so close? I mean, no offense, but you don’t look the type and I think I’d have a better handle on all that than you would, considering the circumstances.”

     Persephone leaned back on her palms with a nonchalant little shrug.

     “I guess, you could equate our relationship to job security.”

     Hades leaned on his knuckles.

     “Explain.”

     “Well,” Persephone let out an airy sigh and sat up straight.

     “Everything ends eventually. You can’t have any ‘new beginnings’ unless you give something up first. That’s textbook.” she smiled pointing her chin to him, “You’d know that better than anyone.”

Hades agreed with a small nod.

     “The Olympians don’t get really get that— they spend too much time on their mountain top. But you and me, we’re kind of essential.” Persephone fixed her gaze down river,

     “Immortality is the biggest con of all,” Persephone laughed, “Without you, I probably wouldn’t even exist.”

     It struck Hades in that moment that the same thing applied to her — without Persephone’s annual population boom, the Underworld would simply be another dark, empty pit.

     “So what you’re sayin is— you work for me?” He pressed his palm to his chest.

     “Or vice versa.” Persephone retorted, with a grin.

     “Touché. ‘Coworker’ has a nicer ring to it anyway.” Hades replied simply a moment later. “I suppose those tightwads up top have you to thank for all their offerings, then?”

     “Yeah, right.” Persephone scoffed with a short roll of her eyes.

     “You’ve gotta be kidding me, Petals.  So, wait— so what you’re telling me is, you work your cute little backside off every year for months, ringing in the seasons, and your Ma takes credit for all that?” Hades chuckled sardonically, sitting forward on his bench. “That’s cheap — even for them.” Persephone shrugged again and Hades noticed a stiffness in her posture that hadn’t been there before.

     “The harvest is her thing.” Persephone said flatly. Hades knew a thing or two about thankless jobs.

     “What can I say? They’re the worst—" Persephone snorted, Hades swatted at the air, ”And I’ll be honest— I’ve never been big on spring, you know? With all the— life and the love and general carefree levity of the season— I just never really understood the allure, you know? But even I gotta say, you’re doin’ a bang-up job, Petals. You’re good at what you do.”

     Persephone smiled at him sincerely. Hades cleared his throat when he felt hot at his nape, strategically avoiding her warm, verdant gaze.

     “So— tell me a little bit about yourself— like, I get you’re a workhorse overdue for a pay raise and all, but what else is going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Hades leaned his elbows on his knees, “Real talk— you sweet on anyone?”

     Persephone’s expression soured just noticeably. With a breath and tightened jaw, she said,

     “Not exactly.”

     Hades arched a brow.

     “I’m kind of— engaged.” Persephone clarified, “But not by choice.”

     Hades’s idle flirting came to an abrupt halt.

     “Oh yeah— uh, who’s the lucky guy?”

     “Ares.” Persephone sighed, sinking into her palm.

     “Ares?” Hades scoffed, barely containing the sliver of righteous jealousy that slipped into his voice. “The imbecile with an attitude problem— he’s your fiancé? The guy’s a total loser. You couldn’t have picked like, literally any other god?”

     “Like, uh—” Hades guilefully swept one of her little golden hands into his, petting her knuckles, “Me, for instance.”

     Persephone rolled her shoulders defensively, her engagement obviously a sore subject. “Trust me, the God of War definitely wouldn’t have been my first choice either, and he wasn’t.”

     “It was my mom’s idea.” A moment of awkward silence followed. Hades had only known her a few hours, but he already preferred comfortable, in-her-element Persephone to the shrinking violet sitting in front of him now.

     “Don’t take this the wrong way, babe, but— you seem a little free-spirited to be buying into all these conventions. Why marry a guy you can’t stand?”

     “For the kicks—” Persephone replied unexpectedly a moment later, changing the subject. She splashed Hades with River water playfully just as they were approaching the Gates of Tartarus. Hades blinked at her but before he could deliver one of his trademark roguish responses, the river diverged ahead of them.

     “Ah!” Hades clapped, standing, now successfully diverted from the topic of her arranged marriage.  “Petals, let me introduce you to the dreaded Cerberus — as promised.”

     Persephone heard the massive hound of hell before she saw him. And she smelled him even faster. Reaching distractedly for Hades’s outstretched hand as she strained her eyes against the darkness of the Underworld. From the gloom, the scent of rancid dog breath found her from aboard Charon’s ferry. Rising out of the mists of the Styx, an enormous canine form trained it’s seething, blood-red gaze on the boat and its passengers. Persephone gathered her skirts and leaned on Hades’s arm to get a better look. The rumble of a growl filled the vault of Tartarus and the Styx’s normally placid surface trembled. Hades half expected her to shrink behind him and was pleasantly surprised to feel her force passed him to lean against the bow with a palpable aura of excitement.

     Out from the shadows came all three of Cerberus’s gargantuan heads. Persephone’s contagious sense of calm must have usurped his guardian instincts because upon seeing the goddess, the hell hound immediately dropped his hackles. Lolling tongues and curious eyes now replacing snarling, foamy jaws, Cerberus approached the ferry as it came to port. Persephone nearly stumbled overboard as she scrambled to make his acquaintance, arms outstretched.

     Hades and Charon shared a look before the Lord of the Underworld, too, disembarked.

     Cerberus’s introductions rarely went so pleasantly, but from the moment Persephone held her little golden hand out to the hellhound, they were inseparable. Hades found himself huffing and puffing as he attempted to pry the massive three-headed monster dog away from his intended date, all the while Cerberus smothered the tiny goddess with his giant velvety tongues.  Persephone was no worse for wear, giggling and fruitlessly trying to avoid a drenching of dog slobber.

     “Who’s a good boy?” Persephone cooed.

     The hellhound whined playfully as she scratched under his chins.

     “Cerberus—heel!” Hades commanded, thrusting his pointer finger toward the ground authoritatively. The guardian of the underworld ignored him, snapping at Hades with an unoccupied head as he moved to intervene. The death god fumed in frustration, clapping his palms together in a sound that echoed through the empty vault of the underworld like thunder.

     “I swear to me— thousands of drachmae in behavioral training down the tubes because I just had to pick the one with three heads, what a sucker am I— yeesh.”

     After another bout of narrowly avoiding Cerberus’s savage canines, Hades impatiently shouted,

     “Pain! Panic! Chop, chop!”

     Suddenly, the teal and pinkish imps came barreling around the corner carrying the largest steak Persephone had ever seen. So big she figured it must’ve come from a cyclops or something. The pair of them stumbled down the staircase toward Charon’s dock, breathless and frantic.

     “Coming, coming, your sepulchralness!” Pain chimed hoarsely from the bottom of the stairs, lugging the bulk of the steak on his large, flat back. Panic hurried him along the wet stone platform so the pair of them landed horns over tails at Persephone’s sandaled feet.

     Shaking off the dizziness of his spill, Pain looked up into Persephone’s kind and inquisitive face, blinking down at him in concern. Shyly, Pain and Panic shuffled away from the goddess.

     “Who are these handsome little devils?” Persephone asked despite Hades’s irritation, fielding all three of Cerberus’s damp, chariot-wheel sized noses as he bumped them against her shoulders. Panic twisted his tail in his hands and swatted at her bashfully, blushing.

     “They’re uh— my—“

     “Assistants?” Panic piped up hopefully with a fangy grin.

     “Colleagues?” Pain added, batting his lashes.

     “—minions.” Hades drew out the “s’s”, “I was going to say minions,”

     “Anyway— where were we?” Hades waved the pair of them away irritably. With Cerberus sated, Pain and Panic recoiled into the shadows of the underworld to avoid his wrath.

     “You should be nicer to them, you know.” Persephone commented as he guided her up the stairwell to his throne room.

     “And what? Give them the impression I care, or something? Nah—”

     “Funny…” Persephone retorted with a dry smile, scooping up the tresses of her peplos in her right hand as she scaled the final steps.

      “I was getting the impression you did,”

     Hades stumbled over his words— her frankness caught him off guard. He was suddenly very aware of her slender golden hand still clasped with his.

     Persephone cast him a small, intended look before entering the throneroom in front of him. Her distinct Olympian aura mixed with the blue glow of the river Styx, casting a bilious, green light across the walls of the chamber. The room warmed noticeably with her presence, Hades even caught a whiff of something earthy and floral— like wheat after a rain, warming in the sun. He felt his heart palpitate.

     “So—" Persephone hummed, running her fingers along the edge of his sand table, grazing the backside of a small wooden maquette in the shape of the River Guardian. Spread out in the center of the room was a map of Greece, marred with scorch marks and the remains of busted figurines. Across a monster ridden painting of the Aegean, a string of Greek characters spelled out “Athens” in bold, gilded script.

     “This is it, huh?” She stopped and leaned on the cool, slick arm of his throne.

     “I didn’t take you for such a minimalist,”

     “What can I say? Interior decorating, not my gig.” He rubbed the back of his neck, forming the OK symbol with his thumb and forefinger. “Maybe you could, uh—give me some tips, I don’t know— after all, I’ve seen your work. Primo stuff,”

     Persephone giggled and tilted her head. “Your place needs a few homey touches, true,” she said with a humored look, “But it’s got good bones,”

     “Did—" Hades pointed between her and an invisible audience, “Did— was that a joke, I just heard? After all the bunk you gave me earlier? I’m rubbing off on you already, Petals.”

     Persephone sucked in her bottom lip and pretended badly not to smile. Hades floated across the room, his smoking fringe of his chiton lapping at the stone floor silently in wispy black tendrils. He came to stand on the opposite side of the throne from her. Pursing his lips, he asked,

     “Tell me— how is it we’ve never managed to meet before? I mean— Olympus ain’t that big, and I know I’d remember a face as pretty as yours,” he bumped her chin with his bent finger.

     “Well, you know my moth— Demeter,” Persephone shrugged a little bashfully, a wistful expression passing across her face, “She’s famously over-protective, I don’t get out much. Spring’s like these are rare— every once in a while, on the busy years, she loosens the leash a little and I get some breathing room.”

     Hades couldn’t tell what was worse— being eternally isolated or eternally smothered. At least he was free to some extent, even if that freedom was conditional. What was it about her daughter that had Demeter so paranoid for her safety? Goddess of Spring seemed simple and innocuous enough.

     “Not much of a rebel, are you, Petals?”

     Persephone tittered, but there was a twinge of bitterness in it.

     “I just… I couldn’t stand her disappointment, I guess.”

     Hades sensed there was more to her story than just that.

     “I’ve got some bad news for you, kid,” he replied with a scoff, “You’re going to disappoint a lot of people, believe me— so get cozy with the idea. It’s not as bad as you think.”

     Persephone laughed out loud, and the sweetness of the sound startled her host. He’d been laughed at lot in his millennia of torment, as lowest Olympian on the totem pole it came with the territory, but something in her tone of voice was different.

      “You’re a terrible influence,”

     The laughter left a warm silence between them. Persephone’s eyes scanned the grim, uninviting architecture of Hades’s throne slash war room. His gaze flicked to her profile while she was distracted. He studied the gentle curve of her brow, her chestnut lashes, the amber color of her skin. He considered how perfectly at ease she seemed to be in an environment that was so oppositional to everything she represented. In a realm that sucked the vitality out of any living thing fool enough to cross her threshold, Persephone persisted, as relaxed as she might be in an open field or a fruit orchard.

     The Goddess of Spring crossed her ankles and slumped against one shoulder, watching the light of the river form strange patterns on the ceiling. Some looked like faces or hands, reaching, reaching into the darkness of the void.

     High above the pair of deities, watching from a window looking in on the chamber, Pain and Panic observed their boss with the mysterious goddess. Panic sighed yearningly and kicked his tiny, cloven feet. “Hades looks happy, doesn’t he?”

     “Ugh, don’t be such a sap—" Pain retorted in a husky whisper, though secretly, he agreed. After several seconds of back-and-forth shushing, the pair of imps settled down into their place to eavesdrop, watching their unsuspecting targets dreamily.

     “No offense, Hades—" Persephone began bluntly, laughing a little at how immediately offensive she’d prefaced her statement. “But— I really don’t get why’d you’d ever want to take over that place,” she wrinkled her nose. “I can’t stand the Olympians— they’re all bluff and bluster, and don’t smite me for saying so but your brothers are a little—"

     “Moronic?”

     “—yeah. That.”

     Hades blew out his lips and leaned back on the arm of his throne, hands crossed behind his neck. He milled her statement over in his head— thinking back on the last few millennia or so, he’d been consumed by his vendetta against Zeus. Being angry at his brothers had always felt better than feeling nothing at all. After a moment, he broke his uncharacteristic silence.

     “Yeah— I mean, yeah, the Olympians aren’t exactly my style either, but— it beat being stuck down here, alone, in the dark all the time.” He shrugged but there was a pinch of uncertainty in his voice, “I just got so damn tired of playing the punchline, you know? It seemed like a good idea at the time...”

     Persephone looked at him pointedly with an unreadable expression.

     “I guess you wouldn’t really get that, would you, Petals?” he mused, rolling his wrist in the air. “I mean, you’ve got a good thing going — with all the flowers and the harvest and the sun, and whatnot. People love spring. I bet you’re just drowning in fans.”

     “Yeah.” Persephone looked away, dropping her gaze to the floor. “Drowning.”

     Sensing he’d hit a nerve, Hades opened his mouth and prepared to backpedal, but before he could get a word out, Persephone interrupted him. With a wry smile, she said,

     “You’re pretty different than what I expected.”

     “Oh yeah? How so?” Hades replied, interest piqued, sliding closer to her on the arm.

     “Am I better than you imagined?”

     “You’re—”

     “I’m what? Dashing? Dishy? Drop-dead gorgeous? Take your pick.” Hades ragged, twisting a shimmering lock of her copper hair around his finger. Persephone laughed.

     “You’re taller.”

     “Uh— You forgot to mention more handsome, also.” Persephone shoved his arm playfully. There was another comfortable pause where Persephone swept her hair from her eyes. Hades had her fixed in his scheming gaze. Her ease and self-assuredness was refreshing, and it was nice, for once, not to feel entirely like a social outcast.

     “You’re definitely more interesting,” She smiled.

     “I mean— your brothers made you out to be a total heel.”

     Hades frowned and rolled his eyes with a dramatic sigh, story of my life.

     “Intense? Yeah, maybe. Dramatic? Definitely. You’re an acquired taste, but evil—?”

     But?

     “I don’t see it.”

     Hades waited for her to finish her thought, but she never did, only offered that same little canny curl of her lips like she somehow knew something he didn’t know. Hades found himself becoming fidgety and nervous under the directness of her gaze. Her honesty made him uncomfortable – it was so real, so sincere.

     “Well, I mean that just speaks to your taste, now, doesn’t it?” Hades slid his arm around her shoulders and leaned in like he might try to steal a kiss, “Guess we’re just meant to be, Petals.”

     “Nice try, Casanova” Persephone patted his cheek, “The charm won’t work on me.”

     “Who’s to say? Really — the night’s still young.” Hades waggled his brows at her, undeterred.

     “Night—" Persephone repeated like she’d just seen a ghost — which was entirely possible, considering. She frowned. How could anyone tell time down here?

     “I uh— I’d better be going,” She stammered, gently unhooking herself from Hade’s grasp.  “Demeter’ll tear Olympus up by the roots if I’m late,”

     Hades watched her stand in quiet protest before deciding she was serious about leaving.

     “Right—Right. I’ll uh, see you out then.”

     “What about your ‘no escapee’ policy?” Persephone remarked with a smile.

     Hades rose smoothly to his feet.

     “Eh— I’m feeling generous today. I’ll overlook it, just this once. Just don’t get used to it, Petals.”

     The Lord of the Underworld hurried after Persephone with an unusually sheepish air as she carefully descended the winding staircase they’d come up earlier. Right on cue, Charon was waiting at the dock with his gondola.

     Persephone, more sure-footed this time, boarded after Hades, who once again extended his hand to her politely.

     The ride back up the Styx was quieter. A school-boyish hope filled Hades’s cold heart with warmth as he gazed in silence across the deck at his lovely companion. He hadn’t actually meant to fall in love. He knew godly romances tended to be long shots, especially if your name was Hades. But there she was— this beautiful stranger, distant and forlorn, on the other side of the gondola, her knees brushing against his every few seconds. He wondered for a moment what had possessed her to accept his invitation; was it curiosity? A chance to give her mom the finger? All he knew was he wanted it to happen again and again—forever— if possible. He liked the way she made him feel.

Persephone had a complicated look on her face, he glanced down at her lap where she absently traced her fingertips across the lines of her opposite palm. He would’ve liked to have seen that hand in his instead.

     At the source of the river, like an eye peering into the earth, the gateway to the underworld cast down a milky beam of moonlight that illuminated the Styx. More cautiously this time, Persephone stepped away from the deck of the Ferry and waited for her host to join her. Hades all but glided aground and the pair of them shared a few bashful glances before Hades finally spoke up.

     “You and I should do this again soon, yeah? I mean, you’ll be around, and I’ve got near permanent house-arrest to sit out—”

     Persephone smiled at him.

     “I’ll think about it,” She replied before backing into the silver-lit entryway.

     “See you around, Hades.”

     As Persephone disappeared in a flurry of moonlight and coral-colored anemone petals, Hades felt a familiar heaviness settle into his chest. Like a ball and chain, that old resentment and callous disdain returned, and he felt himself getting angry for no particular reason.

     Back at the palace, Pain and Panic waited for him at the entrance to his throne room like a pair of gawking gargoyles, anticipating Hades would take his festering frustration out on them in some needlessly cruel fashion.  Instead, he did nothing but simply pass by them, without a word.

Hades deflated into his cold, stone chair where he noticed a single copper hair lying beside his hand like a length of golden thread. The Lord of the Underworld carefully picked it up and twisted the strand around his fingers.

     “Boys—” Hades called across the room, the two imps to jumped at the sound of his voice. “I’m in love,” He sighed, fingering the hair absently as he slumped miserably against his free hand. Pain and Panic scrambled to his feet, scaling the flat, stone arms of his throne.

     “That’s great news, boss!” Panic crooned, “I think Persephone’ll make a wonderful Queen of the Underworld,”

     Hades studied him, unamused, from the corner of his eye, too entrenched in his pining to be properly irritated.

     “Yeah! You two do make a pretty cute couple,” Pain added helpfully, still slightly breathless.

     “Just one problem—” Hades snapped, flicking the plump pink imp backward onto the chamber floor. Panic cringed instinctively.

     “She’s engaged— to that red-faced yahoo and there isn’t squat I can do about it.” Hades stood suddenly, flames spreading across his shoulders and down his back. “Why is it that every time something good shows up in my life, Fate has a way of getting its grubby little claws all mixed up in… my… affairs…”

     Hades paused at the edge of his sand table where a partially melted statuette of Hercules still stood. He picked the thing up and examined it for a moment.

     Panic flitted up beside the god of the dead tentatively.

     “I mean we could —I hate to say the word kidnap, but—”

     “Wait a second…” A look of realization passed across Hades’s grim features, “Bingo!”

     “Boys, I think I’ve got a better idea!”

     Pain and Panic shared a look as Hades swept the latter imp up into his hands.

     “The Fates— that’s it! I mean they helped me out before with the whole Wonder Brat fiasco— I’ll just dazzle them with a little refined small talk, you know schmooze ‘em—the whole bit, just like before, and BAM! I’ll have the scoop on Petals and all the dysfunctional melodrama of her pre-arranged marriage! It’s perfect.”

     Hades tapped his chin, a calculating grin spreading across his blue lips.

     “In the meantime…” Hades clasped his hands behind his back, “I do have a very special job for the two of you—"

     “I need you both to keep a close eye on Persephone while I negotiate with the Fates— think you can handle that? Everything has got to go a hundred percent according to plan. We can’t have little Miss Green Thumb and her dumb-dumb fiancé getting hitched in the interim, capeesh?”

Both Pain and Panic stood at attention, arms raised in salute.

     “Can-do, boss!”

     “Operation spy on Persephone is a-go!”

     “Fine, fine,” He sighed dismissively, waving them away. “Just— whatever you do— don’t tip off any Olympians, got it? Nobody can know about this. If Demeter catches wind of our little visitation— well, you get the picture. Now, get lost.”

     Together the imps scurried out of the chamber, grappling to be first all the way.

     “Now—” Hades said to himself, tying Persephone’s strand of hair around his wrist, “—To organize some divine intervention.”

Notes:

Hello, hello, everybody!!

Chapter two is here! And on the Spring Equinox no less (feels so so right doesn't it?)

Thank you so much to everyone who has supported the story so far, and to everyone who left me birthday wishes on Tumblr!! Ya'll really know how to make a gal feel special! :D

I hope you enjoy this next installment of my little AU, I am pumped to hear your thoughts!!

Cheers!

(UPDATE: I think?? I might have gotten this chapter thing sorted out?? Thank you to the people who reached out on tumblr! I know it's taken me a million years to fix this, but I should hopefully have an easier time sharing next month's chapter)

-- Meeks
(aka AlabasterPickles)

Chapter 3: The House of Fate

Summary:

Hades pays the infamous Moirai a little visit to get the scoop on his would-be sweetheart, only to find out something surprising about the unassuming Goddess of Spring.

     The domain of the Fates was perhaps the only portion of the underworld Hades had no direct influence over. King as he was, there was an understanding between Hades and the three sisters — this was their turf, and when he was visiting, he played by their rules.

     The Lord of the Underworld composed himself, put on his most convincing snake-oil smile and entered the empty hall. At the back end of the main temple chamber was the Tapestry of Fate, hanging from a giant loom made of ebony wood. The woven threads moved with hundreds of images of mortals and gods alike; it depicted every nuance of their lives, all the way up to their deaths. The tangle of magic thread glowed gold, flickering almost like a fire, illuminating the farthest wall of the chamber which appeared carved from black marble. Strange and ominous shadows emerged in the dimly lit hall. Hades cast the tapestry a passing glance, unbothered by the haunting atmosphere and cleared his throat.

     “What? Do I gotta like, ring a bell or something to get any service around here?”

     From some dark corner of the room a reproving scoff announced the presence of Hades’s begrudging hostesses. Lachesis appeared first with her empty eye sockets glowering disapprovingly at the Lord of the Underworld. She crossed her arms and her sisters, Clotho and Atropo, materialized out of shadow beside her.

     “Ah, ladies!” Hades opened his arms invitingly, “Just the gals I was looking for, I—“

     “Well, well, well, Hades— bold career move, job hopping from god-king to homewrecker in one night.” Lachesis rasped sarcastically, interrupting him. Atropo snickered.

     The Lord of the Underworld didn’t even try to defend himself; he knew the last thing he should do was gaslight the Fates, of all gods. He cleared his throat, casually preened his chiton and pretended he was unbothered by Lachesis’s sudden — and accurate — accusation.

     “What can I say, ladies? I am a man of many — newly discovered — talents. Which, I’m sure the three of you are no strangers to. I mean, considering how expertly you weave the Tapestry of Fate…”

"Can it, Hades.” The tallest of the sisters said, “We know you’re only here to find out about the fate of the Goddess of Spring.”

     Hades feigned offense and let out an overtly dramatic gasp, “Me? Take advantage of your clairvoyance for personal gain? Perish the thought, Lachesis, babe.” He swept silently up behind the three fates with the same fish-eating grin he used in all his negotiations. “I’m here for the three of you, of course! I mean, how could I resist such charming company— after all you’ve done for me over the years, I’m simply here to express my gratitude. You know.”

     If Lachesis had eyes, she would’ve rolled them, but Clotho seemed to buy Hades’s blatant chicanery and leaned toward the Lord of the Dead with her hands clasped.

     “Oh, Hades— you old sweet-talker. Tell me, what is it you’d like to know?”

     Lachesis looked ready to protest when Atropo elbowed her hard in the ribs. With her single, mossy yellow eye she flicked her gaze between Hades and the Tapestry of Fate suggestively. Lachesis clamped her toothless mouth shut.

     “Well— since you asked,” Hades crooned, faking innocence. “I’m sure you three lovely ladies are aware of my… recent above ground excursion. I met this girl, and I was only wondering if, perhaps, there was even a sliver of a chance, I might be able to swing her to the dark side— you know— romantically speaking.”

     The three sisters shared a look, then each of their faces split with a grisly, gap-toothed grin. Lachesis and Clotho appeared behind Hades, startling him.

     “You want to know, Hades?” Lachesis hissed, “You really want to know?”

     “Heartsickness is a good look on you, god-king.” Atropo clicked her forked tongue, playing at the thread of copper hair on his wrist, “We shall tell you what you want to know about Demeter’s daughter, for a price.”

     His cool demeanor was now laced with anxiety. Hades blew out his lips in a nervous attempt to hold his composure, sweating under the proverbial spotlight of the Fates’ omnipotence.

     “Really? A bribe? That’s all it takes these days? If I’da known it would be this easy, I would’ve done this ages ago. Sure, I mean, what do you want? I’m the god of wealth— I have cash to burn, literally.” Hades feigned nonchalance, though he was a little peeved he’d been so easy to read.

     “Not money, Hades,” Lachesis snapped. “Real estate, in the Asphodel Meadows.”

     “You girls want a vacation home in Asphodel? Done! Heck, take the whole plains for all I care.  Now, uh, what’s the scoop on Miss-Pretty-in-Green, huh? Do I got a chance or what?”

     “Patience, O Mighty Lord of The Underworld— the one you desire shall be yours soon enough.” Atropo crooned, licking her lips.

     “The arrival of Spring as yet to be seen,

     Two years, hence, shall make her Queen—”

      The three fates sang in unison. An image of a smiling Persephone appeared in a puff of green smoke, reflected in the smooth black marble floor. Hades reached for her, but his fingers only passed harmlessly through the projection.

     He frowned down at his hand, shaking his fingers free of smoke, the tips still tingling with anticipation.

     “Demeter’s child, no longer at her command,

     Shall fight the god who has her hand,

     And Life and Death shall together be—

     Husband and Wife for eternity.”

     “Good, good— all according to plan.” Hades replied with a smug grin; ego freshly stroked. “Anything else I oughtta know about? A caveat perhaps, you know— looking back on the whole Hercules thing, I have to ask.”

     As if expecting his response, the three sisters leaned menacingly toward the Lord of the Underworld.

     “Beware, Oh Hades, for you are not alone in your pursuit, of the Goddess Demeter’s forbidden fruit—"

     Oh great, more verse. Hades thought.

     “— Warring Ares, too, has wishes to claim,

     The Bringer of Death, as she is named.”

     Hades rolled his eyes. That’s right, Ares.

     “So… all I gotta do is get Ares out of the way? Psht, sounds easy enough— the guy’s got like, what, three brain cells, tops? Also, excuse me but, did you just refer to Persephone as ‘Bringer of De—’ ”

“Tread carefully,” Atropo warned, yanking on his chiton, “What Ares lacks in brains he makes up for in influence— the Olympians are not likely to side with you on this matter, Hades. It is important to play your cards right,”

     Hades frowned at the shortest Fate but knew all too well the dangers of not implicitly heeding their advice. The Lord of The Underworld sighed.

     "In that case, any suggestions on where to head with my marital interference? I mean— it’d be helpful if you, I dunno, at least hinted at what I’m up against…”

     But when Hades looked back, the three sisters were gone and a smelly, sulfurous green haze was beginning to settle on the floor of the temple. He once again found himself alone in the Hall of Fate.

     “Right, fine. Guess I’ll just have to improvise. No biggie.”

 

 

Notes:

Okay -- Chapter 3 is a-go!

Special thanks to my mom who has been diligently editing my work and catching all my stupid little grammar mistakes -- she's the real MVP!

I hope you enjoy this short intermission chapter before we start getting to the good stuff. I really wanted the Fates to come across as a force to be reckoned with, so we're deviating a bit from their original characterization.

I look forward to hearing your thoughts! :)

Cheers,
Meeks (Alabasterpickles & Momithastobeclever)

For more info about my Underworld AU, check out my Tumblr here:
https://www.tumblr.com/alabasterpickles

Chapter 4: The Meeting of The Matchmakers

Summary:

The impish God of Messengers implores his shrewd Olympian neighbors, the love gods Aphrodite and Eros, for their assistance with his little matchmaking side-gig.

     “Eros— Aphrodite!” Hermes gasped, coming to an unsteady halt on the cloud-veranda where the two love gods were busy celebrating a successful day’s work. The pair of them turned expectantly to look at Hermes, kylixes brimming with nectar still held aloft.

     “You cats’ll never guess what I just did—” He puffed and panted, waving his caduceus weakly in the air as he doubled over to catch his breath.

     “Well? Spit it out, Hermes.” Eros insisted impatiently, eyes glittering over some potential gossip. The portly, purple deity was already airborne; he hovered like a plump, diaper-wearing hummingbird above the messenger god with an expectant grin that upturned his little black mustache.

     Aphrodite gave the over-sized cherub a chiding look and slipped her dainty, sandal-less feet off the cloud-like loveseat she was lounging on. She took a long sip of her nectar and stood gracefully, flattening out the skirt of her pink peplos which sent a spray of glitter right into Hermes’s face.

     He sneezed.

     “This has to be good,” Aphrodite offered a playful half smile, “I mean, you look like you just challenged a hurricane to a foot race — and lost. Aren’t you still on babysitting duty, by the way?”

     Shaking his head and pushing his spectacles up his nose, Hermes composed himself with an oral sigh.

     “I’m on my ten, and anyway— you’re both familiar with our least favorite Olympian, by popular vote?”

     “How could we forget,” the pair of love deities groaned in unison.

     “Well, yours truly found him a little someone everything plus—”

     “You found Hades a date?” Aphrodite scoffed, crossing her arms, slightly offended, “Who could possibly be stupid enough to agree to something like that?”

     “Oh, I dunno— does the name Persephone ring a bell?” Hermes replied, examining his nails with a self-satisfied little smirk.

     Eros and Aphrodite shared an incredulous look of surprise and descended on Hermes in an avalanche of questions.

     “You’re treading thin ice, Hermes.” Aphrodite clicked her tongue, halting their discourse, “There’s no way in, well, Hades, that Demeter will let her daughter run off with Hades. And if she finds out what you’re up to—”

     “Hold on a second,” Eros interjected, tapping his chubby chin thoughtfully.

     “He might be onto something here,”

     “You bet I am, babe,” Hermes confirmed with one short nod, “I know it’s a moonshot, but Aphrodite, hear me out — you don’t want Hades hangin’ around, drooling’ all over your sandals anymore, right?”

     “I’m listening,” She replied, hands on her hips.

     “And I’m sure it’s safe to say none of us want—" Hermes shuddered, “—another titanic close-call,”

     “That’s right,” said Eros.

     “Miss thing, Persephone, is a perfect fit for Mr. Grim and Gritty, wouldn’t ya say? Think about it— Persy’s nonconformist lifestyle was never really Demeter’s cup of tea anyway and there’s no one further left of field than Hades.”

     Hermes rolled his shoulders.

     “Maybe with Hades— I dunno— she’ll finally have the chance to be her own person, let her hair down, if you catch my drift.”

     Eros shared a condolent look with his superior. The pair of love gods were very aware of Persephone’s condition. Practically the whole Pantheon was. But none of them were interested in going toe-to-toe with the oldest and most prominent Olympian on the mountaintop.

     “Hermes, we’re talking about setting up the Goddess of Spring and the God of the Dead—they could not be less compatible, believe me—compatibility is my forte.” Aphrodite protested, swinging her hand in a slashing motion through the air.

     “Righto— which is why I am coming to you.” Hermes countered, “Of anyone, you, Aphrodite, know that opposites attract, right? It’s like, a universal law. All we need is a little love god magic and voila! But if I’m going to pull this off, I am going to need you cats to help.”

     Aphrodite looked ready to object, but both deities, Eros and Hermes, gave her puppy-dog eyes and she let out an aggravated sigh.

     “Hermes, can we skip to the part where you let us in on your plan—" Aphrodite sighed, mildly exasperated, and rolled her wrist in the air, “I’m a busy goddess, you know.”

     “I knew you cats would come around.” The messenger god rubbed his hands together conspiratorially.

     “So, here’s what I’m thinkin’—”

     As Aphrodite expected, Hermes’s plan was riddled with holes. Promoting a union between the King of the Underworld and Persephone behind Demeter’s back was a dangerous enough gamble on its own, but to try and force two people to like one another with only the slightest attraction present was far worse.  Eros and Hermes figured that by manipulating Hades’s now very evident feelings for Persephone, love-god style, they could guarantee the success of the pairing.

     You couldn’t make anyone fall in love. She knew that, Eros should have known that. And hanging that carrot over Hades’s head, of all people, was so asinine it was laughable.

      But the Goddess of Love, practical as she was, knew that if she didn’t at least supervise from a distance, Hermes and Eros were likely to make a scene and jeopardize the coupling of the century. In her line of work, she couldn’t allow something this historic to just fall through, either. She knew that, if by some incredibly slight chance it did work out, she’d go down in infamy. No one – god nor mortal alike – would question her judgement ever again. Life would be aces. All she had to do now was either commit, or risk losing out on an opportunity that could redefine love as they knew it.

     Aphrodite rolled her eyes at Hermes who was wiggling his brows irreverently. He knew he had her hooked.

      It was so like the messenger god to come off half-cocked about something as complicated and nuanced as romance — particularly when it involved someone else.

     What he was suggesting could change the course of the future of Olympus — possibly the world. It was touch-and-go, but Hermes was right. If they did, somehow, manage to successfully marry Persephone off to Hades; A) she would be free, and B) so would everyone else, including Hades himself.

If what the messenger god said was true, and the Lord of The Underworld really had been as vehement about pursuing Persephone’s affection as Hermes claimed, then there might just be something to all this. Despite Aphrodite’s doubts, she wasn’t about to start playing the cynic now.

     “Promise me one thing,” Aphrodite interjected the tangent that Eros and Hermes had just fallen into. They were discussing their color choices for the table centerpieces at Persephone’s hypothetical wedding like excited bridesmaids.

     The Goddess of Love lightly jammed her perfectly manicured fingertip into Hermes’s narrow chest.

     “No nonsense— I’m in enough trouble with Hera over these god-flings as it is. I am constantly getting blamed for everyone else’s histrionics. It’s exhausting.”

     I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this, she thought with mental sigh.

     Aphrodite massaged her brow, “So, we exploit the situation from the sidelines. That’s it. If you can get Persephone to fall for Hades naturally, then I will consider pushing the matter, ‘Kay? Remember — the art of subtlety is going to be very important here, I’m talking to you, Eros.”

      Aphrodite shot the God of Desire a pointed glance and he shyly averted his gaze.

     “Whatever you say, Boss.”

     Satisfied, Aphrodite nodded. Then, her expression grew dark.

     “This romance thing is a balancing act, if we tip the scale too far one direction, it’ll fall apart. I hope you’re right about this, Hermes. Because if you are, Persephone and Hades may not need us at all.”

     Eros flashed Hermes a look. The portly love god nodded his headed soberly. Sometimes, when the love was real and true, it didn’t take either of their influence for it to blossom properly — that kind was the most powerful and dangerous of all.

     “Ugh, I missed my four p.m.—” Aphrodite complained, squinting at her sundial ruefully. With a short sigh, she impatiently ushered the two other gods out of her pavilion.

     “Listen, boys, I’ve got to get back to work. Love may be patient, but it also doesn’t break for lunch.”

     Just as Aphrodite was about to dive back into her temple, she paused to glance between Eros and Hermes with a stern cast.

     “Remember what I said,” She added warningly, “We observe — we don’t interfere.”

      Hermes and Eros shared a look with one another, but Aphrodite didn’t wait for them to confirm — the next second, she was back inside her pavilion, loudly appealing to her backed-up beseechments.

     Of course, the likelihood of them minding their own business was slim.

     She has to know that, Hermes thought.

 

Notes:

Hey, y'all!

I'm a day late but I am here!! Sorry for the delay - one of my desktop monitors gave out and I've been trying to get that sorted while juggling some intense classwork this week, so it's been a bit of a mess.

I'm back on track though, aaaaand I even have a little illustration to accompany this month's chapter!

Anyway, thank you all for your continued readership!!

- Meeks
(Aka, @momithastobeclever/@alabasterpickles)

Notes:

Alright!! We did it! We're finally here! I can't believe I am sharing my first public story in over ten years!!! I am so sorry it took so long but now that I've got everything set up, it should be smooth sailing from here! BIG, big thank you to all the people who supported this concept and encouraged me to write/share this story -- y'all are the best!! I hope you enjoy what I have in store, I genuinely can't wait to share the rest of this story with you! :)

Also! Sidenote -- if anyone notices any discrepancies between this version and the one I have posted on Tumblr, please let me know and I will make the necessary edits!

Thank you all again for reading!!

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of A Matter of Life and Death