Halves

X. Hades

The shades that have been awaiting judgement while I was escorting Persephone down to my world are all easily dealt with, allowed to stay on with me in Asphodel. That is how the majority of my days go. Some of my younger relations assume that my work is more exciting, brimming with dead heroes to send off in glory to the fields of Elysium and despicable sinners to be cast down into Tartarus. Mortals erroneously think I spend all of my spare time dreaming up devious methods of torture, and that they are all going to end up in Tartarus one way or another if they displease me. And Hermes seems convinced every time he brings new souls that he's guiding the hero to end all heroes, destined for straight passage to the Isles of the Blessed.

No, most shades end up dwelling here with me in Asphodel. This job is more mundane than the expectations suggest.

Duties completed for the day, I leave the throne room to find where Persephone has ended up in her wanderings. It seemed her body could barely contain her energy when she left my presence earlier with a bounce in her step, so I assume she has already traversed the entire geography of my home.

As I climb the stairs to the second level, I am unable to shake away the stubbornly persistent image of Persephone lounging in my throne, one attractive tanned leg thrown so carelessly over the armrest. 

Does she have any idea of her own beauty, I wonder?

But beyond that, I saw something change in her as she sat there, crowned and robed like a ruler. Not the mounting ambition that clouded my brothers' eyes towards the end of the War, when victory over our father grew more certain. Not the all-consuming lust for total dominance that drove my father to devour his own children and so secure his rule. Yet I cannot deny the confidence and comfort that settled over her features and body language the longer she sat in my throne.

She continues to intrigue me.

This riddle of a woman surprises me once more by how quickly I find her. Contrary to my guess that she would have raced to discover as much as she possibly could about her new whereabouts, she never got any further than the first of my extensive libraries. 

I come across her perched atop a tall shelf, surrounded by scrolls and very much absorbed in the one she is currently reading. So deep is she in whatever is holding her attention that she does not seem to see me, even as I draw to a halt directly beneath her.

"Now, how in Gaea's name did you even get up there, Little Dryad?"

She starts violently at my words and I brace myself to catch her should she fall, but she swiftly rights herself. "Hades! I did not hear you come in!"

"So I gathered. My apologies, Lady, perhaps I shall try and train myself to make more noise when I walk. Now back to my question, for I am deeply curious: how did you come to be sitting so high up there?"

Persephone looks slightly chagrined. "Would you prefer if I did not read on top of your shelves?"

You can read wherever your heart desires. I'll not protest. 

"Not at all. Make yourself at home as long as you are here."

Put at ease by my assurance, she grins down at me. "I have spent my entire life climbing trees. The shelves were no more challenging, and I wanted to see what sort of writings you stored at the very top. I was not disappointed." Indicating the pile of scrolls around her, she dreamily goes on. "You have EVERYTHING! Histories, philosophies, poetry, plays — written by the great names AND the obscure ones — I would spend a hundred years in here, Hades."

"I assume you did not see that I have four more libraries down the hall from this one," I remark.

Her face is absolutely euphoric. "Perhaps I have actually died and gone on to Elysium."