Summer Has Begun
01/01
"I don’t want to leave you,” Persephone whispers, her fingers curling around the strands of Hades’ thickly-curled hair. The Queen of the Underworld clings to her husband, who wraps his arms around her waist just as tightly. There is an edge of desperation in the air around the dark couple, an edge that intensifies when Demeter clears her throat loudly.
“Patience, sister,” Zeus admonishes, watching his brother embrace his daughter with careful eyes. It’s strange, seeing genuine emotion come from Hades; before Persephone, the only feelings the Dark King ever exhibited were anger, indignation, and indifference.
“Summer has begun,” Demeter huffs, extending one hand in her daughter’s direction. Crimson fire dances in Hades’ gaze for just a moment before Persephone touches his cheek and pulls his face down to hers. They don’t kiss, or whisper to one another, just stare into each other’s eyes, foreheads resting together. They’re surrounded by a bubble of creeping shadows that seem to originate at their feet—their feet, not just Hades’, as they used to. For the first time, Zeus realizes how perfectly his daughter has grown into her position.
“Demeter, let them be!” Aphrodite hisses, drawing a glare from the harvest-goddess that she returns with icy intensity. Behind her, Ares lifts one lip in a sneer and growls softly at Demeter. The warlord doesn’t need much invitation to attack someone, especially on Aphrodite’s behalf.
“Six months is too long to bear without you,” Hades murmurs into his wife’s hair. Despite the darkness that clings to the two of them, Persephone still shines from the roots of her golden hair to the tips of her toes. Her mint-green eyes sparkle with unshed tears as she lifts her king’s hand and presses a kiss into his palm.
“It grows longer and longer each time we part,” she breathes, cradling Hades’ hand to her chest now, their fingers entwined tightly. For a moment Zeus thinks – as he always does at these painful partings – that his daughter is finally going to defy her mother and stay with her husband. But even as the idea dawns in his mind, he sees the slight changes overtaking Persephone: her hair growing lighter, beginning to shine; her skin glowing a sun-kissed gold; and finally her black chiton paling into a brilliant ivory. The stygian iron ring, carved into a beautiful filigree of lace and flowers, stays on her left hand, the only remaining evidence of her tie to her dark husband.
“For me, as well,” Hades admits, his voice low. Moving in a completely unself-conscious way, as if he doesn’t have an audience of twelve watching him bid farewell to his wife, the Lord of the Underworld takes his queen’s face between his palms and brings his mouth to hers. This is a familiar sight to the Olympians, and they all (with the exception of Demeter and Aphrodite) avert their gazes as the dark regents grip each other tightly, their mouths moving insistently together, until the sun flashes up over the horizon, signifying the true beginning of summer.
A ragged sob escapes Persephone’s throat as the shadows clinging to her skin retreat from her, along with her husband, who reaches for her as she is drawn into her mother’s tight embrace. Hades’ face holds a peculiar mix of emotions ranging from defeat to fury as he watches Demeter engulf her daughter in her arms. Persephone reaches past her mother’s shoulder, tears streaking down her face, but it is too late; as the sun rises in earnest, Hades melts into shadowy nothingness, returning to his dark home to wait for his beloved to return.
“Patience, sister,” Zeus admonishes, watching his brother embrace his daughter with careful eyes. It’s strange, seeing genuine emotion come from Hades; before Persephone, the only feelings the Dark King ever exhibited were anger, indignation, and indifference.
“Summer has begun,” Demeter huffs, extending one hand in her daughter’s direction. Crimson fire dances in Hades’ gaze for just a moment before Persephone touches his cheek and pulls his face down to hers. They don’t kiss, or whisper to one another, just stare into each other’s eyes, foreheads resting together. They’re surrounded by a bubble of creeping shadows that seem to originate at their feet—their feet, not just Hades’, as they used to. For the first time, Zeus realizes how perfectly his daughter has grown into her position.
“Demeter, let them be!” Aphrodite hisses, drawing a glare from the harvest-goddess that she returns with icy intensity. Behind her, Ares lifts one lip in a sneer and growls softly at Demeter. The warlord doesn’t need much invitation to attack someone, especially on Aphrodite’s behalf.
“Six months is too long to bear without you,” Hades murmurs into his wife’s hair. Despite the darkness that clings to the two of them, Persephone still shines from the roots of her golden hair to the tips of her toes. Her mint-green eyes sparkle with unshed tears as she lifts her king’s hand and presses a kiss into his palm.
“It grows longer and longer each time we part,” she breathes, cradling Hades’ hand to her chest now, their fingers entwined tightly. For a moment Zeus thinks – as he always does at these painful partings – that his daughter is finally going to defy her mother and stay with her husband. But even as the idea dawns in his mind, he sees the slight changes overtaking Persephone: her hair growing lighter, beginning to shine; her skin glowing a sun-kissed gold; and finally her black chiton paling into a brilliant ivory. The stygian iron ring, carved into a beautiful filigree of lace and flowers, stays on her left hand, the only remaining evidence of her tie to her dark husband.
“For me, as well,” Hades admits, his voice low. Moving in a completely unself-conscious way, as if he doesn’t have an audience of twelve watching him bid farewell to his wife, the Lord of the Underworld takes his queen’s face between his palms and brings his mouth to hers. This is a familiar sight to the Olympians, and they all (with the exception of Demeter and Aphrodite) avert their gazes as the dark regents grip each other tightly, their mouths moving insistently together, until the sun flashes up over the horizon, signifying the true beginning of summer.
A ragged sob escapes Persephone’s throat as the shadows clinging to her skin retreat from her, along with her husband, who reaches for her as she is drawn into her mother’s tight embrace. Hades’ face holds a peculiar mix of emotions ranging from defeat to fury as he watches Demeter engulf her daughter in her arms. Persephone reaches past her mother’s shoulder, tears streaking down her face, but it is too late; as the sun rises in earnest, Hades melts into shadowy nothingness, returning to his dark home to wait for his beloved to return.