Chapter fifty-two Persephone
Chapter fifty-two
Persephone
If the Underworld where Hades resided was the softness of midnight incarnate, the Elysian Fields were the hour just before dusk.
Golden sunlight warmed the endless fields on one side, driving away the damp chill that had settled into my bones, and as breathtaking as the endless fields of breeze-blown flowers were, it was above me that made my knees unsteady.
The dusk blended seamlessly with night overhead, and yet there wasn’t an absence of light. Countless clusters of stars wheeled overhead, brighter than any I’d ever seen with a moon rising to contrast and chase the remains of the sun.
In this glade full of wildflowers, from our place at the top of a cresting hill, the trees painted the horizon between us and the star-littered sky, giving the illusion that nothing existed beyond Hades and me.
Nothing evil waited beyond the borders of this realm, no sadness existed, no anger either. Just the peace this place brought.
“Do you like it?” Hades’ question made me blink. The lack of confidence in his voice was so unlike his usual arrogance.
“I’ve never seen you so uncertain, God of the Dead,” I teased, stepping toward him.
“But rest assured, your intuition served you well. I’m enthralled.
” His eyes narrowed, darting to mine, bringing with it the crackle of tension that danced along my skin.
Ignoring the flip-flop of my stomach, I hurried to add, “With this place. I’ve never seen its equal. ”
“Elysium is unlike anything else—in any realm,” he said, pride evident on his face.
It was the way an artist beheld their greatest masterpiece, a look of pride and worship, and a hint of obsession.
Something I understood. With a cleansing breath, I sat on the hill overlooking the glade, smiling when he followed suit, setting himself neatly beside me.
“An understandable point of pride.” I smiled. “You have an entire kingdom here, and realms within, and yet you bring me here. I’ve never seen you with anyone. You’re always alone.” My mind reeled back to the other night when he sentenced that shade. “Unless it’s work related, of course.”
“Is there a question in there?” He turned away to gaze into the soft, sunlit purple field of flowers gently swaying in the breeze.
“An observation.”
“Here I thought solitude was the big perk of ruling the dead.” The dryness in his tone, the shallowness, made me startle. I didn’t think he even realized the vulnerability he’d just shared. Or perhaps he did, and he was trying to deflect.
“You sound lonely, Hades. Lonelier than you let anyone see.”
The half laugh he gave, the crooked smile, I could tell was for my benefit. “Careful, little shadow,” he said, that sardonic tone coming back, “I’m the god of the dead and I have a reputation to uphold. Can’t have you ruining the carefully curated brand of doom and despair I’ve perfected.”
“That’s not a denial,” I pointed out, regretting it immediately when I saw the tightening of his eyes.
Every wall he’d slightly lowered was right back up, smirk and casual, nonchalant attitude and all.
Hades didn’t charm to be charming. He was charming to disarm.
I shifted closer to him, hating how he stiffened, watching me from the corner of his eye.
“Loneliness is merciful.” The bitterness in his tone made my heart ache. “The silence and shadows don’t harm you.”
“Neither are they a comfort in my experience.”
“And what would you know of loneliness, goddess of spring?” His barbed tone should have made me flinch, would have made anyone flinch, but I didn’t move.
He turned away, his voice dangerously low.
“You walk in sun and flowers and all that glitters. Your kingdom didn’t bury you beneath the surface and forget about you. ”
It was then I realized how exactly right I’d been earlier. He was not just lonely. He’d been starved for oxygen for eons, and when it never reached him, he gave up trying to breathe. Hades wore his sarcasm and charm like armor, protecting the lonely being beneath starved for connection.
It was impossible even to attempt to hate him after that realization.
“I lived in a different sort of cage,” I admitted.
He watched me from the corner of his eye, silently waiting for my continuance.
“Mortals worship me because they’re told to.
Nymphs were my friends because it’s powerful to be friends with a goddess, but not one of them knows anything about me.
Not one of them cares for me. Olympus was the first time I’d ever met another god or goddess besides Mother.
I do understand what it means to be invisible, Hades. ”
His eyes narrowed, smiling turned, cutting, sharper than any blade. “Invisible.” His scoff rang hollow. “You blaze like an inferno, a beacon against the clamoring shadows, Persephone.” Hades frowned at my smile, which only widened when his anger peeked. “Why are you smiling?”
“Because,” my voice was softer than every petal in this glade, “my mother was so very wrong about you. She told me you were cruel, but I see none of that in you.”
His head arched back in another humorless laugh. “Disappointed?” he deadpanned. “Just ask, little shadow. Demeter certainly has her reasons for thinking so.”
“You sound…” I struggled for the right word, shaking my head as I abandoned the thought. I turned away to the dusk, reveling in the watercolor canvas above us. “Never mind.”
“Sound what?” he prodded. “Bitter? Resentful?”
“No,” I mused. “You sound wounded.”
Hades’ answering tone was the low, dangerous hum of a rattlesnake before its attack. “Careful, little shadow. Wounded things bite. And my teeth are sharper than yours.”
My heart pounded away in my ears, so loud it drowned out everything else. I shrugged, aiming for casual, ignoring the storm of butterflies in my stomach that threatened to gnaw me from the inside out.
“Then bite me,” I dared, bold for a reason I couldn’t even try to fathom. “Even if I bleed, at least I’d be seen.”
The tension crackled as the very air thickened between us, the shadows that clung to him shivering like living things, as if they too awaited his reaction with bated breath.
For one heartbeat, I was certain I’d gone too far, and I pulled away to give him space.
The rage in his eyes, the fury for all those in the above realms that shunned him, I wouldn’t blame him if he’d snapped at me.
But he froze—assessing me, studying me as if for the first time.
I’d gotten exactly what I’d asked for: Hades saw me.
He saw under my skin to the core of who I was.
For the first time, I flinched.
Not because it was him. But because I’d gotten what I’d craved—to be seen and crumpled under the scrutiny.
Be careful what you wish for, another mortal adage that this time I fully understood.
“You’re more foolish than I anticipated.
” His voice held a quiet edge, like shadows hiding something sharp.
There was a part of me that recoiled in hurt at his look of boredom, but I refused to show it.
Instead, I leaned closer to him, watching him shift backward slightly, awkwardly.
Even his shadows pressed, as if unsure of what came next.
I pressed closer, making a show of looking deep into his eyes, my face intentionally creeping closer to his. “Huh, that’s surprising.”
I hid my internal revel as that bored look on his face gave way to suspicion. He raised a brow before speaking, “You being a pest is hardly surprising.”
“Nope.” I plastered a fake smile before letting him see my annoyance with his hot and cold attitude.
His eyebrow rose as he tracked the shift in my demeanor.
“The fact that you’re so full of shit, it’s a shock that your eyes aren’t brown.
You talked about magic, but I assume you must receive help from Hecate for a feat like that. ”
Hades, of all things, laughed. A riotous chuckle fell from his lips as if it surprised him. “I don’t think I’m used to being spoken to that way. And what’s surprising is that I don’t think I hate it as much as I should.”
I grinned into the muted light, allowing the playful moment to endure between us, allowing myself to slip into the closest thing to peace I’d ever known, however tenuous. Hades relaxed next to me, sprawling and holding himself up on his elbows as he reclined on the hill.
It was a lifetime of instinct that called my magic to me more than conscious thought, but the subtle green light swirled around my fingertips, surprising us both.
Elation mixed with relief rumbled loudly in my chest. Tears sprang to my eyes.
With a bite of my lip and a swish of my hand, I watched life bloom before me.
Petals surrounded us, taking over the hill, but like nothing I’d ever seen.
In a perfect circle, the strangest flowers opened—colorless but emitting a faint glow reminiscent of moonlight.
“I’ve never seen such flowers.” I fingered a petal delicately, marveling at its whisper soft texture. Their petals reminded me of roses, but softer. More subtle in their beauty. When touched, the glow intensified. “They’re like fireflies! And moonlight.”
“I’ve not either,” Hades admitted, looking from the flowers to me with a strange expression on his face, like he couldn’t decide if he were fascinated or concerned. “You should give them a name.”
“You mean these haven’t existed until now?” I gaped at him. He shook his head, smiling.
“No. These belong solely to you.” He blinked slowly, the golden flecks within onyx catching the light. If the pale stars above were a galaxy, the golden ones in his depthless gaze were one all his own. “What do you want to call them?”
I had a million ideas, none of which were perfect. Soul flowers. Moon flowers. Elysium Bloom. But none felt right until I looked at Hades and knew.
“Hades’ Whisper,” I said, admiring their luminous glow. The light scattered, reflecting off his every angle flatteringly amidst the moonlight and ever-present sunset. He stared quietly at the flowers before looking at me with a grimace.
“Whisper?” His scoff was softer than I think he even intended. “I’m known for fear, curses, threats, mortal gambling addictions, and more than the occasional scream.” He turned away, “I’m not really whisper material.”
“That personal brand of doom and gloom or whatever,” I teased.
Without thinking, I brought my hand to his face, bidding him to meet my gaze.
“Whispers are trust. Whispers are shared secrets. Of feelings and words not meant for everyone. That’s you.
That’s today. I can’t thank you enough for bringing me here. This is how I can try.”
He looked stricken before looking away, jaw clenched tightly.
Silence stretched and I began to worry I’d said something irreparably wrong when he reached out and plucked a bloom.
He gently brushed his fingers across a petal, mimicking my own marvel, reverent almost by accident.
Looking back to me, he tucked it smoothly behind my ear.
“Hades’ Whisper it shall be.”
This time when the silence reigned, it wasn’t awkward or strange. It was comfortable as a favored blanket, as sweet as the scent on the breeze. I smiled into the dusk, into the Hades’ Whisper around us with an unexpected joy.
In Olympus, I’d met gods and goddesses like me for the first time.
But it was in the Underworld, the realm of the dead, that I felt the first flicker of life in my soul.
In the calm that darkness brought with it.
Somehow, without ever expecting it and so much sooner than should have been possible, I felt more peace, more understanding in this moment than in all my years in the mortal realm.
I felt safe.