Persephone: Chapter 10

I am slowly learning that written is better than perfect. I’m starting to focus on getting this book written instead of trying to perfect it. Yes, these early drafts will be rough, but it will be written. After it’s written, I will go fix everything and make it all shiny and pretty. In the mean time, I’m having fun sharing this process with you!

Read the first chapter of Persephone here.

Chapter 10
Persephone

Mother and I crossed vast meadows, forests, rivers, and mountains. Everyday was a new place. Was this really how much she usually traveled? Was this why I sometimes didn’t see her for days at a time? I got the feeling that while she was keeping us on the run to hide me that she was also taking advantage of the situation to visit places she’d long neglected (being tied down by a daughter she didn’t trust to leave for long).

And nearly everywhere we went, I saw him. Not him really, but tokens he’d left for me—pomegranates. It especially helped on days when Artemis visited and started with the perpetual maiden bit again or when I struggled to keep Mother happy (a task that grew harder daily).

But the farther we traveled from Olympus, the more relaxed Mother’s vice-grip became. Time alone had been a rare occasion since leaving home, but as time passed, she began to let me wander farther and farther away—as long as I was still within sight, that is.

With this new freedom, Hades and I spent nearly every day together—though he had to remain invisible many times when there was no cover to hide behind. Invisible Hades was a bit off-putting, as I imagine being near any invisible being would be. And I could tell he tried to remain visible as much as possible for my comfort, despite the risk.

And it became a routine for us. I would slip away when I could manage, and Hades would nearly always be waiting for me.

And we spent countless hours whiling the time together. I usually tried to hide my awkwardness by keeping busy—painting flowers and experimenting with new plants. Hades tried to help a few times, but it did not go well. So, most of the time, he kept watch. Though, at times, when my stomach fluttered, I had to wonder if he was really keeping watch or watching me.

With this thought, a smile kept creeping on my lips as I walked through the meadow, back to Mother. 

But she was not alone.

With a startled gasp, I ran. I’d know that blue hair anywhere.

“Clytia,” I exclaimed and ran into my friend’s open arms.

“Kore,” she said. The scent of a cool stream on a summer day wafted around her.

“My dear friend,” I started, then noticed that Clytia, who was always babbling like a brook, was nearly silent.

She kept her hands in mine as I stepped back from the embrace, but didn’t quite meet my eye.

“Clytia, whatever is wrong,” I asked.

Then, I saw Mother’s face—haggard and drained of color.  It was as if the mighty goddess had aged while I was gone.

“Mother?” I asked.

Clytia bowed and retreated.

“The naiad brought news,” Mother said, then grabbed my hand and pulled me forward.

“Mother, what is it? What’s wrong,” I asked as we stepped into the chariot.

But she remained silent as she urged the dragons forward.

“Please tell me,” I pleaded. The rushing wind seeking to steal the words from my lips. “Where are we going?”

“To Artemis,” she said gravely.

“Aretmis,” I asked. “But why? What news did Clytia bring?”

Mother looked down at me. I had never seen her eyes so cold. So dead.

“Lord Zeus, in all of his wisdom,” she spat the words. “Has decreed that his daughter will be given in marriage. He has promised your hand to Hades.”

I froze. My hand loosened from my grip, and I almost lost my balance.

Hades? But Hades had said… He told me he did not want to marry me.

“I don’t want your hand or any other part of you,” he’d said when we’d first met.

“Mother, I don’t think that,” I began to say, then something hit me. My stomach sank and head swam. “Wait. Why are we returning to Artemis?”

She would not look at me again. She didn’t need to say a word.

Mother had taken me everywhere under the heavens when my father had suggested that the gods pursue my hand. That act of defiance may cost her in the end, but she would deem it a small price for my safety.

But this. This was not a mere suggestion. Father Zeus had declared that I was to wed Hades. And to disobey the king of the gods was unthinkable. My father tolerated Mother’s slights, her hiding me, and our alienation from him. But for anyone, especially one of the other Olympian gods to go as far as to defy him so blatantly was something he would not forgive. And if one angered Mighty Lord Zeus, one either died in agony or lived to regret it.

But there was something I feared far more than the wrath of Zeus upon us. There was only one weapon Mother had left with which to defy him.

Perpetual maidenhood.

We arrived at Artemis’s camp much too quickly. My mind was still reeling.

Zeus could not force a goddess to rescind that oath, sworn on the river Styx—he had tried and failed with Artemis many times. Despite his efforts, she had been able to refused any husband he tried to wed her to.

Neither could Mother and Artemis force me to swear it. Could they?

They stood next to the campfire, scheming. Artemis’s voice excited, mother’s desperate.

I finally stepped off the chariot and sat on its edge, my head in my hands.

And what of Hades? Had he lied to me? Would I be forced to marry him?

And just like that, his voice whispered in my ear, “Persephone.”

I shook my head. Perfect. Another will to fight my own. Another voice to silence mine.

“Go away,” I said. “You lied to me.”

He was so still beside me that I thought he’d left, but he said, “I can see why you might think that.”

“Oh you can, can you?” And I struggled to keep my voice quiet.

I moved toward the dragons, hoping that if Mother saw me speak, she would think I was talking to them.

“You can see why, when you said that you had no plan to marry me, then scheme with my father to do just that, how I might interpret that as a lie?” I said.

The dragon shuttered at my tone, and I stroked his nose and muttered soothingly.

“I…” he said. “I told you that I had no wish to marry you. Not that I didn’t plan to.”

My head shot up and I glared in his general direction.

“Well, that’s quite a distinction,” I said coldly.

“I don’t want to marry anyone. But Lord Zeus,” he cringed. “Has other ideas.”

“Well, I already told you that I don’t want to marry you,” I shot back.

It was ridiculous, really. From the start, we’d both said we wouldn’t have the other. I shouldn’t feel so rejected.

“Yes,” he said, and I could hear the smirk in his voice. “You did. Quite passionately, if I remember correctly.”

Silence held as I scratched a loose scale of the dragon’s neck.

“This is quite a mess for both of us, isn’t it?” he said quietly.

I could only nod woodenly.

“I,” he started. “The only way… I did the only thing I could think of to keep your father at bay. I let him think I obeyed his command—that I was pursuing you until I could change his mind somehow.”

“I should have known,” he said, and his voice grew dark. “That your mother and father would go to such lengths…”

I sighed. It made sense, I supposed. I had two of the most unreasonable parents ever. Well, maybe not as unreasonable as my grandfather who ate his children, but still… Very unreasonable.

“I don’t know what to do,” I whispered with closed eyes. The hot dragon’s breath didn’t even warm my shivering body.

I felt his light touch on my hand, then he drew me to the side, out of my mother’s line of sight, and wrapped his arms around me.

“It will be alright,” he murmured, and my shivering stopped. “We’ll figure this out.”

“Mother won’t let me go, and Father won’t let me stay,” I said. My voice was shaking.

I found myself almost giggling as he quietly called my parents all sorts of wicked names.

“You know,” he said hesitantly. “There is a reason your father chose me.”

“Because you were the last god my mother hadn’t chased away?” I said, looking up at him.

“Ouch,” he said in a mock-hurt tone. “Because he thought I was the only one who could keep you if Dem—your mother tried to force you back to her.”

Could he though? Hades was powerful. He, my father, and Poseidon were the three most powerful of all the gods. But I’d seen what my mother could do. I knew what she was capable of in her wrath.

“Demeter is formidable,” he said. “And, normally, I would go out of my way to avoid upsetting her.”

He must have seen the disbelieving look I sent him.

“Okay, yes,” he replied. “I would go out of my way to avoid her, period. I don’t really care about upsetting her. Usually, that is. But I would not have her hurt you.”

His hand squeezed my hand.

“She would never hurt me,” I said.

“She hurts you every day,” he said.

“She has never struck me,” I said and pulled away from him.

“I’ve seen her words strike you like a whip,” he said, and it sounded like he struggled to keep his voice low. “She belittles you and berates you. She locks you up and claims to protect you, but all the while, she withholds the joy you would find in the world, and the beauty the world would find in you.”

I shook my head. “No, Mother loves me. She lives to protect and care for me. I don’t like it sometimes, but she is trying her best.”

“Her best shouldn’t hurt someone she claims to love so much,” Hades scoffed.

It felt like someone was squeezing my head. The pressure got worse with every word—the panic increasing.

“You don’t understand. You don’t know her like I do. Mother has a lot to deal with, and I’m a handful too,” I said.

“You’re right,” Hades whispered. “I don’t understand, and I can’t know everything that you’ve been going through.”

His hand took mine again.

 “But I can see how unhappy you are, and love should never cause that kind of pain,” he said.

I shook my head.

“Sometimes love is the most painful thing,” I said. “You have to be willing to sacrifice some of your own happiness, to endure some pain to make things work.”

“And sometimes, you have to know when to walk away,” he said.

Even though his tone was gentle, I felt like I’d been punched. What he was suggesting was impossible. I could never. I shouldn’t ever.

“Love isn’t something you just give up on,” I said. “Family is everything. I could never give up on my family. We are eternal. And we’ll always be together. We have to. That’s what family means.”

“I know this may sound strange given my own family’s history, but I’ve learned that family and love aren’t the same thing. When you care more about someone than they care about you—when they constantly harm you—there’s a problem.

“It seems like you’re always bending over backwards to please your mother—to keep her happy. But does she make as much of an effort to make you feel loved?” he asked. “When someone loves you, it’s not their job to make you feel happy, but it is their job to create a safe place for you. Does your family make you feel safe?”

Tears streamed down my face. The words he said were thoughts I’d had before but thought that I’d pushed down and ignored. Doubts made me feel like an unfaithful daughter.

“You don’t understand,” I said. “Mother works tirelessly to keep me safe. I have to trust her. I have to have faith that she knows what’s best for me—to do what’s best for me. It’s what has kept me alive and free all this time from people who would hurt me.”

“Free?” he asked.

And he didn’t need to say more. My head was spinning. I had never felt free. In my whole life, I had felt trapped. Yes, there were times I felt safe, but never free.

How many times had I kept my thoughts and desires hidden from her? How many times had my hopes been crushed when I did share them?

It was like a small light began in my mind and shadows were revealed to be things as I’d never seen them.

But still…

“But family. You don’t give up on family,” I said.

“I’m not suggesting that you give up on anyone,” he said. “But what about you? Don’t you deserve to feel happy? Don’t you deserve to feel safe? Shouldn’t family want that for you?”

Family should. I would never want my mother to feel the terror of being forced into a life she hated. A life where all my choices were slowly being taken from me. A life where I’d had few choices to begin with.

Where did that leave me? The revelation did little to solve the problem that started this frustrating conversation. Even if this wasn’t something my mother should force on me, what could I possibly do about it? I was completely powerless.

There is a reason your father chose me, Hades had said. And the wheels started turning.