Persephone

XIII

The goddess stared out over the river. The tears had already dried on her face with the briny gusts of wind that came in from the above-world caverns to the Styx. Winds that delicately shifted her chestnut locks of hair, now acting as a blanket while the girl clasped her knees to her chest tightly and sighed.

Striding out of Hades' chambers, her heart beating like a terrified hummingbird in her chest, she had immediately turned her gaze to the small, rocky hill that lay at a turn in the river - she'd always wanted to climb to and from Mount Olympus, but her father always said she was too sensitive. She had made her way up, dress ripping, hair catching on boughs and rocks that jutted out of the cavernous walls, before plopping down at the top, puffing as she looked morosely at the beautiful view. The emerald water refracted through various glassy crystals over her face, and a single teardrop of the goddess of Spring fell to the judgement of the Styx, forever changing it.

It was beautiful here. She did not want to leave, but if her presence made the Lord uncomfortable ... she did not want to impose.

She heard footsteps and wiped her face with a sniff, laughing brokenly. "I'm sorry, Charon, I know my tardiness is terribly inconvenient, but I really would appreciate just a few more moments with the view."

The footsteps did not slow, and she planted her face in her lap, not yet ready to face leaving yet. There was silence, and then the sound of someone lowering themself next to the girl. She huffed. "Charon -"

"I'm sorry for what I said."

It was not the boatman.

Persephone started and jumped slightly, before looking up into Hades' violet eyes.

"My lord," she said, her voice quivering a little, desperately wishing the new tears that had sprung to her eyes would cease. "Why - what are you doing here?"

He peered deliberately into her face and stated, "I wanted to apologise," before lifting his head to look upon his domain.

There was a pause.

"I was unpardonably rude."

She exhaled briefly in bitter laughter. "My lord, there really is no need -"

"There is," he began, burbling slightly, anxious to have his thoughts heard. "I became so terrified of you leaving that I was rash and foolish and cruel. And I want you to know that you will always have a place here, if you so wish it. Your choice is yours to make alone - your mother cannot do it for you, nor your father, nor I. You yourself must decide whether you will continue your duties as the daughter of Spring, or if you will reside down here for as long as you feel necessary. And so my persuasions have been misplaced." He still gazed across the gleaming river, incandescent with love and loss, refusing to look at her now.

Persephone stared at him. His chin-length hair shifted slightly in the breeze, exposing his collarbone beneath the thin black robes. The goddess looked closer, and saw the faint shadow of a scar, minuscule, in the hollow of the ossein, shaped in a kappa - her heart missed a beat when she realised what it must stand for. Kronos. His father. The titan monstrosity who had gobbled up his children whole when his own horrifying father had cursed him.

She looked back up to his face, his eyes, shadowed in fear and uncertainty. He was scared. Of what she might say.

That she might leave.

She wiped a tear from her eye, smiling now, and Hades looked to her, frowning.

"My lady?" he said, tremulously, swallowing back his racing heart. She raised her head, beaming with such passion that the tears falling seemed to bother her no more.