Halves

XIX. Persephone

Stay here, with me. 

Stand beside me, and share my crown. 

Anything you desire would be yours. 

The people of all Three Worlds would do you homage. 

Stay, and rule the Underworld as its Queen. 

Hades's words pound at my ears, their enticing rhythms echoing on and on in a glorious tide until they finally settle, resting somewhere deep within my center. These last few minutes are an ecstatic, heady rush, images and sensations replaying over and over again in my mind. 

He does love me. 

As much as I love him. 

And now that our confessions are finally out in the air, a weight I did not know was hanging over us has lifted. I do want to stay with him. My life with him is somehow both perfectly blissful and perfectly exciting, and I feel it can only become more so, now that our love is a real, acknowledged fact and not just some smoky, half-perceived idea.

But...Queen? 

Of the Underworld? 

Do I truly want that? Do I really want to go from being invisible little Persephone — doing whatever inconsequential thing she wants since no one really pays attention to her — to being one of the foremost authorities in the Three Worlds, where EVERYONE will know who I am? Part of me quails at the thought of so much responsibility, and how many heavy expectations accompany royal titles.

A conflicting part of me hungers for it, though. 

The part of me that chafes at being restricted and trapped. That unruly quality that always got me into trouble for questioning and challenging. There is a piece of me that STARVES for the power I have always been denied, and the ferocity of its hunger unnerves me more than a little.

What do I say?

Hades, perceptive to my moods as always, reaches up to gently caress my cheek, his cool fingertips drawing me out of the storm for now. "You do not have to choose right away," he tells me softly. "We are immortal, after all. We have all the time in the world, my Love. I can wait."

"Thank you." Warmth floods my chest at his understanding words. I know how sharply he must desire an answer, but he cares about me enough to let me make this grave choice on my own terms. Such a selfless gesture almost makes my mind up for me, and I nearly accept his offer right then, but another thought suddenly gives me pause.

I still have not eaten of the food that grows here.

The first night I joined him for dinner so long ago, he told me that the food of his world was a contract, written in blood. As binding as any oath sworn on the Styx. I do not know exactly what happens when this strange contract is signed, but the commitment it carries must be a terrible one.

"Hades?"

"Yes?"

"Could I ask you some more questions?"

He grins. "You may ask. Whether or not I will answer is another matter."

I throw a handful of lilac petals in his face. "We were still playing the game."

"Were we?"

"I guess we did take a break. But there are things I still wish to know about the Underworld."

"And so you shall, Persephone. But first —" he smiles, almost self-consciously. "I do keep meaning to tell you something. Hades was not always my name."