Persephone

XVII

His words bounded about her head. She couldn't stop hearing them.

I have loved you since you smiled at me at the Gates of Hell and shook my hand as though it did not scare you to do so. I had forgotten what happiness felt like before you.

Do not you think I love you?

It will break me when you go. But you must.

She sat, curled up, still in Hades' library, in a pool of tears. They had had this fight before. But this time was different. This time he had not raised his voice, and he had not attempted to convince her. He had simply kissed her goodbye and left. It felt like hours since they had parted, and she still had not stopped weeping. Because she knew that this time it was real. This time she would have to leave. 

She could not bear it. 

There was a knock at the door, and Persephone jumped, immediately sitting up. Was it him? Was he here to collect her to take her home. Was he here to tell her he made a mistake, that she'll never have to leave?

She cleared her throat, and said in a shaky voice, "Come in."

The door opened, and she held her breath - until she saw the white mane and sallow skin, and she exhaled, heartbroken and disappointed.

"My lady," Charon mumbled, looking at her tearstained face and frowning. 

"Yes, Charon," she responded, refusing to look at him, trying to hide the tears beginning to pool in her eyes again.  

He stepped inside the room, and closed the door behind him.

"My lady, Lord Hades has sent me to tell you that he will be waiting for you on the riverbank to - to return you home."

Finally, she looked up, and smiled bitterly.

"Why didn't he come himself to tell me that?"

Charon stared at her with a soft, sad expression, before murmuring, "My lady Persephone, you know why."

Her smile twisted as the tears slipped down her face. She did know. It was hard enough to tell her that he was sending her away the first time. If they saw each other before it was time to leave, he wouldn't have the strength to resist calling it all off. She understood. That was why she wanted him to deliver the message himself. 

Silence washed over the room like a gentle ocean wave as Charon stood, waiting for her to speak. Finally, her eyes happened upon his hands, where the boatman held a small, pink fruit. 

"What's that for?" she asked, sniffing quietly. Charon smiled.

"This is a pomegranate, my lady," he said, before opening one of the halves up to her. The goddess's confusion must have been evident, as he continued.

"You know, some say that those of the world above who eat a pomegranate of Hades are bound to the Underworld forever."

The ferryman picked a single seed out of the half. It caught the light of the stars through the roof and glowed. 

"They say that a single seed is equal to one month in the Underworld."

He turned and looked at Persephone, that small, tender smile filling her with hope. She understood what he was saying. 

Persephone rose from where she was sitting and stared at Charon, a beautiful grin breaking out over her face.

Charon placed the pomegranate down on the stone table where Hades had sat only a few hours before, and patted the goddess on the cheek, as a father would a daughter. Tears slipped down her face as she realised she had never had such a loving exchange with her own father. He turned to leave, but Persephone reached out a hand and gently grasped his wrist.

"Charon, wait, I -" 

She didn't quite know what to say. But she beamed, and looked earnestly into his eyes.

"Thank you."

The ferryman squeezed her hand, before walking out the door quietly, and closing it without a sound. Persephone turned and looked at the pomegranate oozing softly onto the marble. Gingerly, unsurely, she walked to the table, and picked up a single seed, holding it up to the light of the souls. 

"A single seed is equal to one month," she muttered turning it over in her hands. "One month ..."

She picked out six seeds, counting them out carefully, and looked back at the door where Charon had exited, her father not of blood, and before him Hades, whom she loved with all her heart. Persephone picked up the seeds and piled them into her mouth, hands stained red. She swallowed, and smiled.

They tasted like victory.