Persephone in the Underworld
The Ancient Past
Persephone awoke in pale blue chambers that smelled of wild flowers. Her thoughts were hazy. She sat up on the soft sheets and took in her surroundings. The walls and high ceiling were adorned with delicate carvings of summer scenes. The floor was inlaid with large tiles of white and blue. Massive bronze doors loomed before her.
She touched her temple and tried to remember. She had been in the fields, waist deep in flowers, and then she'd heard the sound of hooves. By the time she'd seen them, black steeds with fiery eyes, it was too late. A chill ran through her. He had taken her, brought her here.
She slid off the bed and tried opening the doors, they were locked. She pounded on them furiously with her small fists, shouting to be released until her voice was hoarse. The only answer was silence. She searched every inch of the chambers, but found only a balcony built into a smooth grooveless wall, so high from the ground it was impossible for her to climb to freedom. There was no escape. Restless she paced, days passed, or at least she thought they were days, she couldn't tell, as the sky remained an unchanging grey-blue twilight making each hour of each day indiscernible from any other.
The time was marked only by the four time a day entry and exit, of a mute, shrouded, servant. It had pool of black shadow where its face should have been. It brought her a tray of blood colored fruit and wine which it sat on a table, before it bowed to her and left. She attempted to seize the servant, but her empty hands revealed its true nature to be immaterial. She tried leaving when the doors opened for the servant to enter and exit, but found herself unable to approach the doors, as she was pushed back by some invisible force whenever she drew near. The moment she was alone, she carried the tray of fruit and wine to the balcony and threw its contents over the edge and into the rolling grey mists far below. It fell and disappeared into the darkness without so much as a clatter.
Persephone paced. She missed the warm rays of the sun kissing her skin. The sweet scent of outside air, the dancing, the laughter. Above, it was time for the harvest, the celebration of the coming Fall. A welcoming for the light warm rains that would start in the Fall and continue until the Spring came again. She, along with her mother, would preside over the harvest ceremonies.
Her mother. She must be searching for her? Why hadn't she come yet?
As the days passed and her pacing became slower, her stomach made demands, and her eyes lingered over the food a little longer each time before she threw it out. She slept for days at a time, sat awake for days at a time, still no word from Olympus. Her anger simmered.
She took to sitting in a chair she positioned in front of the doors, waiting for the silent servant to arrive. She would demand answers from it. Had Olympus sent word? Had her mother? Why was she here? What did he want? But the servant remained ever silent. Only replacing the food she'd thrown away and bowing before it left.
And then one day, she was sitting, staring absently at the carvings on the walls when something else came for her. The bronze doors opened, and instead of the shrouded faceless servant, a shining hideous thing stood in its place. It had large wings folded on its back. It was thick limbed and stood on bent, taloned feet. It towered above her, standing taller than any man she'd ever seen. Its long tail was black, slick and shiny as oil, it tapered into a sharp point. Its face was monstrous. Its eyes were blood red and not at all human. It was one of the Erinyes. It was the first time she'd seen one. It beckoned with a clawed hand as it spoke in hissing tones, its tongue stumbling over its jagged fanged teeth.
"Our lord wishes to see you," the creature said. "You will come now."
"He is not my lord," she replied. "I will not go anywhere but home."
"Our lord wishes to see you. You will come now."
"I will not be commanded. If he wishes to see me he can come here."
"Our lord wishes that you dine. You will come now," the creature said more fiercely taking a step forward, sounding irritated.
Dine? She would not dine with him.
"Your lord's wishes are not my concern and you do not frighten me. If you want to make yourself useful, go back and tell him to release me at once."
"He wishes to speak and to dine." It paused then spoke again. "To negotiate. To discuss."
To negotiate what? It might be days before he came to her, if he came at all. She had already been here too long and she could not stay there any longer, she had duties. Persephone sighed inwardly. She would make her demand in person then, and he would comply.
"Very well, I will come with you creature," Persephone said, still sitting.
"Our lord calls me Tisiphone."
"A beautiful name for such a hideous creature," she said aloud.
"Come now." Was Tisiphone's only response.
Persephone stood tiredly and followed the creature into the winding dark halls. Tisiphone's taloned claws clicked against the hard floors and echoed off the high stone walls as she walked. Persephone took quick steps to keep up with her long strides, but walked far enough behind so as to avoid her slowly whipping tail.
The rest of the palace was unlike the beautiful pale of the rooms where she'd been confined. It was dark and gloomy. The creature led her around massive columns, and underneath colossal archways. Past large dark doors, each with elaborate carvings on them that she couldn't discern in the low light. Each of them was closed tightly. The ceiling of the palace was so high, and the halls so wide, she wondered if the creature normally took flight to traverse them, but was walking only for her sake. As angry as she was, she couldn't deny the wonder she felt. Giants could take audience here. One giant could easily stand atop the other's shoulders and not touch the ceiling, such was the scale of the halls and corridors.
Torches, larger in size than the creature that led her, were mounted high above them. They lighted the halls weakly casting shadows that danced and seemed alive. There seemed to be faces in the shadows. Hushed whispering voices echoed lightly. Yet no other being appeared.
Perhaps he watched from the shadows with those eyes? Those eyes unlike any she'd ever seen. Intense, more silver than grey, with the iridescence that marked him a god. For only a fraction of a second had they fallen upon her that night, all those years ago. The night when the rarely seen King of the Underworld had come to Olympus to collect.
"Our lord awaits," Tisiphone said, her words cut into Persephone's thoughts.
They were before massive silver doors now. The creature open them and stood back. Persephone stepped forward and peered into the grey shadow of his chambers. Hades' chambers. She kept her legs, not allowing the vastness to overwhelm her.
They were enormous, more expansive than the ones she had been confined to. There were torches mounted on the walls here too, they gave off a steady pulse of orange illumination that just barely managed to beat back the blackness pooling in the corners of the room. She ignored the heaviness in her legs, and moved past the shiny winged creature and into the dreary dark chambers. He would let her go. He would let her go now.
The room was empty but for a table and two chairs. On the table sat two drinking goblets and a pitcher filled with wine. Beyond him another a set of closed doors that led, perhaps, to more rooms. The doors closed heavily behind her and she inhaled sharply. She took a tentative step forward. Then another and another, until she stood near the table.
A heavy, warm presence filled the room and then he was there, before her, draped in black. He stood as still as stone in front of the upright straight backed chair. He was so much larger than she remembered, so much larger than she was. She recoiled inwardly at his pale ashen skin. His hair was oily black ink. It was disheveled, black strands fell over his forehead. Despite his pallor, he looked strong. His body was solid and well defined. His chiseled features were hard, but pleasing. Still he looked dead to her. As lifeless as the souls he kept.
In his eyes there was something, uncomposed. They hadn't looked that way when he'd come to Olympus. She thought that perhaps he'd been confined to these chambers as long as she'd been confined to hers. That perhaps he had a touch of madness. She took one step forward but left much distance between them. They were alone and his eyes were fixed on her. She swallowed the ice that formed in her throat and made herself speak.
"Why have you imprisoned me here?"
He searched her face with an intimacy that made her skin redden and prickle. She fought not to lower her gaze and kept her eyes fixed on his. She thought he might speak so she waited. When he'd said nothing, she spoke again.
"What is it that you want from me?"
He stood there for a long time, then he started to move as though he intended to draw near her, he hesitated. The black folds of his tunic draped and wrapped and swirled around him as if living. Then he moved again and was before her so suddenly it gave her a start.
He reached out and she recoiled. He hesitated then touched her hair, sand brown strands fell through his fingers. He touched her freckled cheek softly. His fingers felt like stone, the power emanating from them stunned her. She had felt nothing like it, not even when she was near Zeus. It wasn't his lips that spoke but, his eyes. They said her name silently. In his touch she saw what he wanted. Reeling, she stumbled backward from his hard caress. What he desired was worst than death.
"Never," she whispered harshly. Anger rising like a fever.
He drew his still outstretched fingers back. Then dropped his arm to his side.
"You have brought me here unlawfully. I will not stay here with you," she said fighting to control her voice.
He didn't answer her.
"You have no right to keep me here. Return me to my home at once," she demanded.
In his eyes she saw a flicker of something and for a second she felt his anguish. A heaviness seemed to come over him. She felt the flames rising insider her with each moment of silence.
"If you seek companionship, seek it with someone else. I will never love you. I will never lay with you. This will never be my home." More silence. The rage inside would not be quelled, it desired its rise and rise it did. Who was he to think that she would be his?
Her talents did not lay in the movement of objects, but what little power she had inside flared out. She struck out at the neatly arranged scene before her and sent the tray, goblets and pitcher of wine flying toward him. The barrage of objects clattered to the floor before they could reach him. He had not so much as turned his eye toward them. It was as if a feeble wind had blown against him.
"I will not stay here. I'd rather die than stay here another moment with you," she said, trying not to sound desperate.
In her rage she hadn't noticed that he turned back toward her and was staring. His face a stone mask, calm unmoved by what he saw. He held in his hand the blood red fruit. A pomegranate, laid open and missing seeds. Her heart doubled in weight. She had not been able to resist, she'd only eaten a few, then thrown it over the side of the balcony.
"That means nothing," she said. "You held me here until I had no choice but to eat."
"This is your home now," he said it so softly she questioned if he had spoken at all. His voice was soft rolling thunder but it was flat, there was no pleasure in it.
"I will not stay here," she shouted.
"Is everything well master?" The sound of Tisiphone's voice came from outside the doors. She pushed them open and entered.
"This will not be allowed, my mother will come for me and you will regret your actions."
"Take her," he said.
Tisiphone took her arm in an unbreakable grip and pulled her from the room.
"This will not be allowed, they will come for me," she said again forcefully struggling against the creature. She glanced back to see him standing alone, staring down at the fruit in his hand.
Tisiphone dragged her roughly back to her chambers.
"Foolish ungrateful girl," she spat. "He chose to bless you with his infinite grace and you have spit in his face. You have made our lord unhappy."
"He is not my lord you dull slave. Let me go," she said angrily.
"He bestows his love upon you and you refuse him." Tisiphone shook her. Her clawed hand dug into Persephone's arm until the pain stung her.
"He bestows nothing but curses upon me."
"The state he's in now. The things he needs. He offers it to you. To you! You ungrateful wretch. If he did not desire your presence. I would tear you from limb from limb," the creature said, rage twisting her features to something more horrifying.
"Release me now," Persephone said gasping at the pain in her arm.
"As you wish." Tisiphone flung her into her chambers with such force she fell into a chair breaking it. The creature slammed the doors shut behind her still cursing her name.
When Olympus finally called for her return, Hades disputed it. The disagreement raged for months and culminated with her mother, Demeter, holding humanity at the mercy of ice and frost. She called it Winter, and it would reign until Persephone was returned to her. Scores of humans died from cold and hunger, their lamentations and pleas for mercy reached the ears of all the gods. Still, Hades would not be moved. In the end a compromise was made, and his law was taken into account. Persephone's consumption of food from the Underworld had bound her for a portion of each year.
She sheared her hair nearly to the scalp, and mourned the months she was forced to spend in the Underworld. All the while counting the days until the spring, and hating Hades for every one of them. Neither she nor her mother ever returned to Olympus.
- - - -
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