He was cruel and unfeeling…
Such news was useless to her, for she knew most of it to be falsehoods. She’d seen the pain in his eyes. If he was unfeeling, or evil, such pain could not exist. Yet it did, she’d felt it, she knew it. And when she’d asked for his help, he’d not hesitated to give it.
She’d seen his power and understood it. He did not wield it lightly.
No, he was not cruel or unfeeling, he was good and generous and beautiful…
“Persephone?” her mother called to her, distracting her from her thoughts.
“I’m in the courtyard,” she answered.
Her mother arrived, wearing the white robes of Olympus. “You missed dear Hermes, Persephone. He had no time for a visit as he was sent by Zeus to summon all to Olympus,” she said. “I fear there’s been little progress in this siege…”
But Persephone heard no more of it. If Zeus had summoned all the Olympians, Hades would be traveling too. And if he was traveling to the mountain, she might find a way to meet him.
“… so stay close to the house as your attendants will not be back for some hours yet,” Demeter finished.
Myrinne and Crysanthe had set out this morning under the pretext of collecting wool. She knew better, there was wool enough for half a dozen new garments. Her companions were hunting an altogether different kind of companionship. And when they went to their lovers’ beds, she had the day to herself.
Excitement bubbled up within her. She would see him. This very night.
“Take your spinning inside,” her mother continued. “And lock the doors.”
Persephone said as little as possible, knowing her voice would betray her anticipation. She collected the spindle and whorl, as well as the basket of raw wool she’d been spinning. She’d planned to weave this afternoon but it would wait until tomorrow.
Her heart was in her throat and her hands began to tremble, so she paused to steady herself. She must be careful.
While preparing her mother’s hair, she took pains to keep her touch light and steady. If her mother suspected she was ill or out of sorts, suspected her of anything, Demeter would defy Zeus and stay with her.
“Why call upon all of us?” Demeter shook her head. “Ares and Athena, certainly, and Poseidon as well, for much of this war is on the seas. Hades will come, poor fellow, as his realm will grow greatly if things do not cease. But why me?”
Persephone found her voice. “Poor fellow? Hades?”
Demeter met her daughter’s eyes in the looking glass Zeus had given her. “Imagine how he must feel. To be called up, tempted by the sights and sounds of this realm, only to be cast into the gloom that is his domain once more?”
“Is it so bleak?”
“Bleak? Persephone, the man lives in eternal darkness. His only companionship found with the dead. It explains his grim disposition. He is a churlish fellow.”
Persephone made a non-committal noise, hoping her mother would go on. Her mother’s description did not sit well with her. Did none see him as she did?
Demeter shook her head, her finely arched eyebrows rising as she spoke. “Poseidon declares him senseless, that his time away from humanity has driven him mad... I say, if Hades is so, then Poseidon must bear his part of the blame for it. It was Poseidon who rent the first wound upon his gloomy brother. Who can blame him if he is mad? His life has afforded him little comfort. And, he is the ruler of death.”
Persephone shivered at her mother’s words. Death… Had she not jolted awake these last few nights, remembering the shade being torn from its mortal shell?
But what of this other?
How had Hades suffered at his brother’s hand?
Demeter stood, kissing her daughter’s cheeks. “Remember my words, Persephone. Stay in the house and lock the doors. I would not risk losing you.”
Persephone hugged her mother and waved her off, closing the door with shaking hands and leaning upon its carved wooden surface to calm herself.
She waited as long as she could bear it, all the while her heart racing in her chest. Winding her heavy chlamys about her shoulders for warmth, she borrowed the scarf she’d embroidered for her mother and covered her tresses with the delicate eplibema. She might venture off alone, but she was reasonable enough to cover herself.
Pulling the heavy doors shut, she teased th
e climbing vines high, to cover them. Only then did she turn, half running towards the roadway.