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evesburden · 2 years

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Malogranatum [Ominis x Slytherin F!Reader]

Ominis opens up to you in the Slytherin common room while Sebastian is out clearing his head. Slight angst and melancholy follows. A fic that gives perspective to his standoffish behavior towards you, despite his warm welcome at the start of the game. I’ll probably edit later when I’m not so lazy and read it myself.

If someone had asked Ominis Gaunt who his family was, he would have sighed and listed off his lineage - always with his disclaimer on how he did not agree with the Gaunt family practices. He would do so in a measured voice, blocking out any emotional response that might bring that horrible guilt roaring back to his ears. A tricky spiral he had learned to carefully mortar to the far reaches of his consciousness in polite company.

However, when you had asked him what family was in its stead, he felt himself take a staggering pause. Maybe you hadn’t meant to phrase it that way, maybe you were just truly interested in his bloodline…But the warmth and cautiousness in your tone spoke otherwise.

So, after a long pause, he divulged thoughts that he kept pieced away. He did so cautiously, his pale slender fingers pinching and twisting around one another in anxiousness. He told you how he had first met Sebastian and Anne, how they quickly adopted him into their tightly knit bond, despite his cold and somewhat prickly demeanor that first year.

Truth be told, he had only been so off-putting due to his own concerns. Walls he had put up that he had never before felt safe letting down. Anne saw right through them, with Sebastian only too happy to follow along. Always the one up for a challenge to keep up with his twins antics.

He was much better now, at socializing and making friends. Just as the twins had adopted him, he began to adopt their boldness and steady footing. Never any best friends, mind you. That was reserved for the duo who had quickly become the only place he felt structured. But he did have a fair sprinkle of acquaintances throughout the school and houses.

More than Sebastian, at any rate.

Ominis spoke of spending nights and holidays with the Sallows, how despite the constant teasing and bickering between the two, he had found a security he didn’t know was previously available to him. He chuckled remembering how he thought he was in love with Anne for nearly an entire year, until he realized that the love he felt wasn’t the romantic variety. Ominis was, and still is, clumsy with familial dynamics and affection. He admits this to you in the same way adults tell stories of when they believed in Santa — with a warm melancholy of lessons learned and fond memories.

Almost an hour goes by until he notices that he had been the only one talking, the realization hitting him with an uneasy feeling he couldn’t place. A self-consciousness he rarely was vulnerable enough to experience in front of others.

“That’s truly lovely, Ominis.” You had responded as he faltered, sincerity so thick Ominis felt like he needed to clear his own throat of it.

“Sorry,” He murmured in embarrassment, “I suppose I sound like a prattling old man.”

Ominis couldn’t see you shake your head, but he could feel the motion from where you were sat next to him, “Not at all, truth be told you could speak about all of this for hours and I’d be elated.”

There was a…squeeze in his chest just then. A sensation that somehow both alarmed and comforted him. If you had been observant, maybe you would have caught the half second his eyes widened, before they crinkled in a small smile, “That’s very kind of you to say and not something I necessarily deserve.”

Ah, there it was. The guilt.

Ominis stood up, wanting to end the conversation on a good note, and not on the flashes of jagged cursed energy that lurked in his memories. He imagined Sebastian was still getting his fresh air, if that’s what he was actually doing at all, as he let his wand lead him to their rooms.

He wasn’t sure how much time had gone by when he finally heard the clicking of the door, alerting him to Sebastian’s arrival. Ominis sighed, his tone an annoyed whisper, “You really ought to go to bed at a somewhat normal hour.”

Sebastian laughed in a hushed tone, “And miss the adrenaline rush of nearly being caught? I could never.”

Stereotypical Sallow; always a childish quip to be had. His friend had been a lot more reasonable when Anne was still attending, since Sebastian wouldn’t go out if neither of them agreed to join him. It was a bit worrisome, how he was slowly changing. Most would argue independence was a good thing to mature into, but in Sebastian’s case it felt destructive. Like he was chasing something that they both knew he was never going to find.

“Why are you still up?” Sebastian asked, sitting with his back against the side of Ominis’ mattress, “Not fair to nag me just because I choose to take my insomnia outside.”

He paused while he considered lying to Sebastian on why his mind was refusing to pull him into the lull of dreamland. However, he was too emotionally drained to do that back and forth. Once Sallow felt a sniff of a secret he was like a dog with a bone. If that dog had fleas and a slight hyperactivity problem.

“Our newest classmate and I had a…Nice chat in the common room,” Ominis explained, unsure how to best word it, “It had been awhile since I was able to do that.”

There was a pause, “You chat to people all the time.”

Ominis let out an annoyed huff, “We spoke about you. And Anne, of course.”

“What about me?” Sebastian’s voice was part curiosity, suspicion, and incredulity.

“Just how I came to know you both and our first few years together.”

“…And that kept you up?”

This was the part that Ominis had been carefully treading around, the part he had been struggling with formulating into words — even in his own mind. But in true Sebastian form, if there was something Ominis didn’t want to divulge, it would be the one thing his friend would ask about.

“No,” Even Ominis was aware of how annoyed his tone sounded. He wasn’t even entirely sure why he was so upset with having to share the details to his best friend. To someone he fully considered as a brother. Maybe it was his issues with affection, “She had asked me what I considered family to be and naturally, you and Anne came to mind.”

If Ominis was bad at showing affection, Sebastian wasn’t much better. Except where Ominis was the kind to rarely express such thoughts verbally, Sebastian was always the first to make light of them with jest. Ominus decided to take advantage of the beat of silence he was positive Sebastian was using to try and formulate a socially acceptable response.

“But other, not so pleasant, memories followed, as they often do,” He continued as if he were talking about the weather, “So I came to bed where my self-loathing thoughts were so rudely interrupted by our resident delinquent.”

Sebastian chuckled, no doubt relieved that Ominis had made a light hearted joke of his own despite the seriousness of the topic. If the descendant of Salazar Slytherin had been completely honest he would have asked Sebastian the question that had been lingering in his mind all evening; What does the new fifth year look like?

It was never something Ominis had shown the slightest of interest in — what someone looked like. In fact, he couldn’t recall ever asking that before, let alone even care to. It wasn’t as if he would suddenly get his eyesight back and would need to pluck people from a lineup. He often associated people by their voices first, then their smell, and finally tastes that would remind him of their demeanors.

Anne’s voice came off like the crackling of lit torches, warm and familiar but with the slight unease that fire tends to bring. Sometimes, it was more like a rock being skipped across a lake; more lively and active, traveling further out of earshot but never out of reach. She always smelled like fresh wool and gently spiced soap, except on days she had been exceptionally adventurous, and came back smelling like grass or dried weeds. The thick underlaying of pollen and soil, from where she had no doubt been ducking for cover to stay hidden. She reminded him of fruit tarts filled with berries that were picked just a touch too soon. Bitter but sweet and refreshing, never the same flavor ratio twice. Buttery pastry that had a light crisp to it, but was soft and gooey where the filling had sat.

Sebastian’s tone was always deathly serious or teasing — Like the raucous in the school halls, at times it took a moment to decipher if someone was upset or just overly excited. It was akin to hearing the waterfalls around the lake, roaring impact against rock that was either extremely relaxing or would put your teeth on edge. He smelled faintly of stale book pages that had been left unopened for too long and the Butterbeer candies he kept in his pockets. Occasionally, after he showered, he would smell like the same soap as Anne — probably because he didn’t care to purchase anything different. Rocky air also liked to cling to him when he had been out. Fresh but with old moss and a slight salt peppering the edges. As far as taste went, much like the candies Sebastian stowed in his pockets, he reminded him of fresh butterbeer at the three broomsticks…But specifically the butterbeer they had bought Ominis and filled with a sprinkling of grass as a ‘prank’ their first year. He could still remember the warm flavors being harshly interrupted with the pungent taste of spring lawn trimmings. Sirona had let out an annoyed sigh as she brought him a new one, while the siblings tried to muffle their laughter.

If he were honest, that was Ominis’ favorite draft that he had ever had. Not that he would openly admit it, of course. Sebastian’s outward ego was already far too obnoxious without any additional ammunition.

Despite their unique differences, the twins both smelled like Feldcroft as a foundational scent. The small home where they had grown up. Damp wood, dried hay, and slightly over ripe apples. It was a smell that Ominis wished he could bottle and label homesick.

The new fifth year…Her voice reminded him of rain. But not the deep echoes when it landed in an obtuse pattering, but a tad sharper, like when it struck the windows just right in the astronomy tower. Ominis hadn’t been able to pick up her perfume yet, or maybe it was her soaps, but it struck like a honey chamomile with sharp spikes of lavender — but even that didn’t sound quite right. There was another scent underlying those, not an offensive smell, but something uniquely her that he had no name for. To be honest, he hadn’t been around her long enough to be fully confident on what her personality was like. She seemed to always surprise him based on the situation and the people he overheard her conversing with. If Ominis had to pick one at the moment, based on what little he knew about her…He’d have to say warm mint tea, with a hardly noticeable trace of sweetener. Maybe lemon, as well.

No, that wasn’t quite right either…

“Falling asleep already?” Sebastian’s voice cut through Ominis’ musings.

“Unfortunately I’m still among the living.” He deadpanned, stormy eyes pointing up towards the ceiling, fingers silently drumming against his sternum.

“I was thinking…”

“Always a dangerous endeavor.”

Sebastian ignored the comment, “Of writing to Anne about her. The new fifth year, I mean. I think they would get along.”

Ominis nodded.

“I think I’m going to introduce them. Might lift Anne’s spirits a bit. Meeting people outside of our doorstep.”

In all it wasn’t a bad notion and normally, Ominis would wholeheartedly agree with anything that was healthy and good for Anne. Something Sebastian had been in low supply of lately, as far as ideas went. Regardless, It wasn’t lost on him the verbiage he had chosen.

“Just you and her?” He asked, trying to keep his tone light and inquisitive.

“Well, yeah for the first time anyway,” Sebastian clarified, but his voice seemed a tad tighter…almost nervous, “You can come next time.”

Ominis wasn’t daft. After all, Sebastian wasn’t exactly known for his depth when it came to organizing events. There was a part of Sebastian, that for whatever reason, wanted this to be a closed event. It rubbed him the wrong way for a multitude of defenses.

They were best friends for years, was the first to come to mind. He had known Anne and Sebastian longer and far more intimately than anyone else in their lives. If anything, it would make more sense to invite him to help ease the social interactions. He had missed Anne too. Why was he expected to sit this out? Was he being replaced?

The second, and far more impossible to vocalize, left Ominis’ chest feeling like a pomegranate being split open. The initial crack being swiftly followed by the sound of flesh ripping from the fruit, juice spilling into clutched hands, no doubt staining everything it touches.

“Makes perfect sense,” He felt like he had a stone in his throat, “Tell Anne that I miss her when you go.”

Ominis made the decision that it would be in everyone’s best interest if he simply kept the new student at a distance. As separate from his emotions as possible, much like the memories he so often clutched back from bubbling to the surface.

Growing attached and vulnerable to more things he would just inevitably lose was naive. Sebastian and Anne were his family, and while they were never sure how long Anne would be in their lives, he knew that Sebastian would be the constant. He had accepted he would lose Anne, someday, and the mourning for that would come when it was time.

That was all the mourning he had the heart for.

Ominis went to bed that night, and despite his resolve, was left feeling like he had already lost something anyway.

#ominis x reader #ominis gaunt #don’t at me #I know this is insufferably long #and I haven’t figured out how to add the read more on mobile #because i only went to public school #hogwarts legacy fanfic #ominis gaunt x mc

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florafey · 5 years

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Malogranatum - Part 3

Flight of the Fledgling

“Persephone! Persephone!”

The goddess in question tried her best to glance over her shoulder without turning her head. She could just barely see Eris working hard to get around a crowd of older deities without drawing unwarranted attention to herself. Both her hands were occupied with drinks. There seemed to be no obvious reason for Eris’ urgency and Persephone found herself craning further around to check for her mother in the crowd.

Demanding hands jerked her head forward and from behind Persephone, Nike clicked her tongue impatiently.

“How am I supposed to learn how to braid when you’re moving all around?” She asked. The strands of hair clutched between Nike’s fingers were looking more like knots than plaits. Persephone had braided a small section of her hair for Nike to mimic and it had taken the blonde goddess nearly fifteen minutes to understand how to even begin.

“Sorry, Nike. Can you see if-”

“You’re mother is still with Hera,” Nike said automatically. A tug on Persephone’s hair told her Nike had begun her efforts again. “At least...I think so. I haven’t seen either of them for a while now.”

Desperate to avoid her mother after the public game she had won, Persephone and her friends- they were friends to her now, all of them- had snuck around to the front expanse of lawn where they had started their game. Hera had kept Demeter with her around the back, unknowingly giving Persephone some time to pull herself together and worry about when her mother was going to come looking for her.

The festivities of the party hadn’t stopped while they were playing. Groups of younger deities were still lounging around on the grass and in the water, laughing loudly and talking in tipsy voices. Scattered bonfires raged, food was passed around, and joyful singing accompanied the talented musicians that had now migrated out onto the grass.

Eris finally cleared the crowd and reached the two goddess where they were resting by the stone wall. They had chosen this spot strategically; it offered the most cover from the palace and the majority of the yard due to the shadows it created. Not to mention the view. Persephone couldn’t seem to pull her eyes away from the mountain peaks and stars that appeared just an arm’s reach away. Everything seemed so different up in Olympus. More amplified, somehow, than the mortal world. More...right.

Nike finished off Persephone’s braid with a huff and turned to take a drink from Eris. Persephone reluctantly hopped down from the wall. “What is it?”

“Your mother just returned inside. Hera isn’t with her.”

Persephone exhaled, her body sagging and eyes closing. Dread threatened to seep into her heart, her bones. She knew what was coming.

“Oh, Honey, don’t look like that,” Nike shook Persephone’s arm. “Not after all the fun we’ve had tonight. It’ll be alright, I’m sure.”

“That’s what I used to think,” Persephone whispered. She was silent for a moment, then shook her head and said, “But if she isn’t looking for me than I don’t see why we have to get into foul moods. The night is still young.”

Her last statement wasn’t completely correct but the three of them knew what she was implying. Deities were known to party for entire days on end, sleeping where they pleased only to wake and begin again. And when Midsummer rolled around, they were especially adroit at wringing every bit of pleasure from it.

“Well, if you insist on rejoining the party, I wouldn't mind taking another dip in the pool.” Eris smiled slyly. “Come on, Hermes and Dio are in the water and I’m sure the girls are around somewhere. Helios was there last I checked but I can’t be sure…” Eris grabbed ahold of Nike’s hand and led the goddesses away from the shelter of the wall and towards the long, gleaming rectangle of water off to one side of the lawn. True to Eris’ prediction, Persephone quickly spotted Helios’ large form amongst the many others by the edge of the pool. Her mood instantly lifted. Helios was beloved by Persephone and she by him. She had never known what it was like to have a father but she suspected it was similar to how Helios protected and cared for her.

She hurried her friends along, trying not to spill their drinks as they went. Helios was sitting with his feet in the pool, leaning back on his hands and facing away from Persephone. He was amusing a few flirtatious goddess swimming nearby him by kicking his feet and splashing them with water. Everytime he splashed them, they giggled uncontrollably and hid behind their damp hair. Persephone smiled. Helios could charm the dress of a statue.

Eris and Nike saw where she was headed and veered off to let her go. They kept close, however, as they met up with Dionysus and Hermes. Athena and Aphrodite winked in unison at Persephone when they caught her eye. Persephone laughed.

She approached Helios and knelt down behind him, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. He started in surprise, a hand coming up to grasp her forearm. When her curls spilled over his bare shoulders and down his chest, Helios let out a booming laugh.

“Persephone! I’m surprised you’re still here!” His deep voice rolled like thunder over the hills and Persephone felt the warm familiarity of it soothe the nerves she had been pushing down, down, down. She pecked his cheek.

“I am, too, I must admit. Eris just informed me that Hera and my mother have split apart so I fear I don’t have much longer. Hera was the only reason my mother couldn’t take me home sooner.” “Oh, I see. So you go climb on Helios to protect you, is that it?” His tone was light and his face grinning, but Persephone didn’t miss his meaning. She smiled back shyly and adjusted herself to sit next to him.

“I can protect myself just fine, especially from my mother,” she said lightly. “I’m more worried for the company I’ve been keeping. She might turn them inside out when she realizes they had me swimming in my silk dress and rolling around on the lawn.”

“Oh, Persephone, there are worse things to do at a party. Perhaps you should tell your mother that a few grass stains are the lightest consequences Midsummer has given in centuries. A few years ago- just three, if I remember correctly- Apollo nearly lost both his arms when Ares convinced him to wrestle a minotaur his sister had captured a few days before.”

“A minotaur?” Persephone was skeptical. “Helios, there isn’t such a thing. They only exist in paintings.”

Helios shot her a mischievous look and took a sip from the goblet dangling between his fingers. “Ask Artemis. She captured the damn thing and I watched her do it.” He set his goblet down and let his gaze linger on the goddesses in the water. “Reminded me of your mother, actually.”

A choked laugh was startled out of Persephone. Her laughter grew as the meaning of Helios’ statement sunk in and mingled with the wine already in her blood. It bubbled up and over the brink of her self control until she was bent over in stitches. It was so ridiculous the situation she found herself in, and there really wasn’t anything to do but laugh at herself. They drew stares as they turned a foolish poke of fun into an ordeal so hilarious they had tears running down their faces.

“My mother-” Persephone managed around her giggles, “is going to...commit filicide when she sees me.” She wrapped an arm around her now aching stomach and tried to control herself. “I have grass stains on my knees. Grass stains! And my dress is ruined and wet, my hair is a mess and she saw me running around inside like a barbarian-” She let out a semi-hysterical noise. “Oh, Helios. What am I going to do?”

He was silent. His own amusement had faded as he watched the young goddess at his side begin the downward spiral into emotional toil. A ghost of a smile remained on Persephone’s lips as she watched the deities in the pool, but her fingers were twisting in her lap. Her only sign of distress.

“But you were laughing.”

Persephone looked up. “What?”

“Inside. When you were ‘running around like a barbarian’. You were laughing so hard I was surprised you weren’t crying like just now.”

“Well, I- wait, you saw that?”

Helios frowned and tsked at her. “That’s not my point. Listen to my meaning and forget the rest. This night has given you what you have never received before. Tell me what that is.”

There were a million words Persephone could have used. Friends. Excitement. Freedom. Joy. A sense of belonging. When she slipped off into thought, Helios brought her back.

“Dignity.” The low-spoken word almost didn’t register with Persephone and she had to take a second to make sure she hadn’t misheard. Helios repeated it anyways.

“Dignity. Oh, you’ve always had it, don’t think otherwise. But never in the way you do now.”

“I...don’t think I understand. Dignity?”

The goddesses circling Helios had begun to feel ignored by his lack of attention so he splashed them one last time before pulling his feet out of the water and crossing them underneath him like Persephone at his side.

“Let me explain. A bird in a nest knows nothing outside of the safety of her tree. She can see the outside world, observe it around her, but never take part in it or make it her own. Day after day, the bird remains in the nest that she knows and never strays from it. Now, being a bird, is it usual for her to remain in her nest for her entire life?”

Persephone wordlessly shook her head.

“Is it healthy for her to remain stationary? Never exploring, never stretching her wings?”

Persephone shook her head again. Slower this time. Helios nodded, agreeing with her diagnosis. He settled his weight back on his hands and tilted his head at Persephone, considering her.

“I think that bird will do much better for herself if she makes the world her own place. Perhaps then she’ll be able to hold her head up and puff her chest out and be proud of what she’s done all by herself.”

Persephone fell silent, allowing the sounds of the party around them to dominate for a few seconds. Then, just to see what Helios would say, “So why doesn’t the bird just fly away? Leave her nest and the tree?”

Helios looked almost amused. Something bordering on relief shone in his eyes. “Why don’t you tell me?”

Persephone glanced down at where her fingers were twisted in her lap. When she looked back up, Helios was still staring at her.

“I don’t…” she trailed off. A deep breath, then, “The bird doesn’t know how to fly.”

“Who teaches birds to fly, Persephone?”

She shrugged. She had never thought about it before. It never seem consequential. Helios leaned forward in a smooth motion, pulling his hands into his lap and holding Persephone’s eye. The weight of the conversation fell upon her suddenly like a caved-in ceiling.

“They teach themselves,” Helios whispered, “by watching the other birds before them. They observe the birds that know how to fly, pay close attention to how they jump and tilt and steer, and then they have to jump out of the nest themselves.”

“That sounds awfully daunting.”

“It is,” Helios said frankly. He finally dropped her gaze, turning to stare out at the lawn and the glowing palace before them. The lights reflected in his black eyes and turned them golden. They matched perfectly with the gold twinned in his hair and hanging in his ears. When he turned back, the golden reflection remained despite losing the light that had caused it. “Although I suppose sometimes the bird needs a push.”

This was not anything Persephone had been expecting. She raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know anyone in the business of pushing little birds out of trees, Helios.”

The god laughed, his eyes crinkling. “You’d be surprised at who would do what, little one.”

Persephone huffed, not quite sure where to take the conversation from there. Her mother had not appeared on the lawn and she figured it was only a matter of time. Time that was very quickly running out. She was preparing to rise from the grass when Helios said, “Especially among the gods.”

What? Persephone paused. She tilted her head and frowned, trying to make sense of his words. Stringing them together with his last sentence, they made practical sense, but she failed to see how it related to the metaphor they had been creating.

“I don’t-”

“Yes, you do. You just don’t want to think about it. May I give you some advice?”

“Haven’t you been for the last ten minutes?”

Helios chuckled. “Smart like your father.” They both knew he meant himself. “Now close that smart mouth and listen. Listen well.”

Persephone scooted closer until their legs were touching.

“The bird needs to be wary of who she lets into her nest. There are many reasons a bird would want to fly and many more why she would want to forever remain in her tree. She must sort out what’s what before she takes flight. A hasty jump is always a fall.”

“Alright,” Persephone conceded. “The bird shall be careful.”

Helios was satisfied. He took another sip from his goblet and motioned Persephone closer to him with his free hand. He extended his arm when she pressed against his side, and tucked her into an embrace.

“You are a unique creation, Persephone,” He told her. “I see all of creation, day after day, night after night. All of it. Nothing escapes my sight. But you-” he tapped her cheek, “are the most unique being on my earth. Take pride in that, if nothing else.”

Persephone’s face heated and her nose stung. She dropped her eyes from Helios’ face, not knowing if she could bear to see the raw sincerity in his eyes without crying. She leaned forward until her forehead pressed against his chest.

“Thank you, Helios.” The quietest whisper but he still heard. He hummed, a hand rubbing her arm. “You’re quite welcome. Now, Aphrodite is glaring at me, I assume she thinks I’m hogging you.”

Persephone looked up and saw that indeed, Aphrodite was subjecting Helios to her infamously cold stare. Persephone huffed out a laugh at her friend.

“Overprotective, that one. I should go to her before she flays you.”

Helios kissed the top of her hair before sending her off. By the time Persephone had reached Aphrodite and embraced her, Helios had put his feet back in the water and was amusing the goddesses once more.

As the party continued, Persephone found it harder and harder to push aside Helios’ words. Partly due to the exhaustion slowly creeping up on her, and partly due to the unusual seriousness Helios had exhibited when speaking to her, Persephone simply couldn’t shake the ideas planted in her mind.

She ate with Ares and Artemis, danced a little more with Dionysus whom had just woken up from a nap on the lawn, and even allowed the goddesses to pull her over to one of the smaller fires to tell stories. The gods soon joined them despite Athena’s whines about how this was the “females only” part of the night. That only caused Hermes to throw his head back and laugh, and further prompted Apollo to ask Athena if she truly believed the exclusion of gods brought pleasure to anyone involved. When Persephone tartly replied in the affirmative, Nike’s howls of laughter were so loud that Persephone could have sworn Poseidon looked over in their direction.

Poseidon had appeared on the back lawn not much later than Persephone’s group of friends but he hadn’t ventured into the lawn like he had earlier that night, choosing instead to remain on the stone patio connected to the back of the palace. The glowing lights from inside bathed his sharp features in ethereal light, making him seem right at home. At first, he came alone. He seemed content to hold his drink and lean against the palace and observe the festivities. Then, somewhat to Persephone’s surprise, his older brother had joined him. She had no idea what Hades had done between the time she saw him snarking off to Poseidon near her mother and Hera, and when he strode out of the palace doors and handed his brother another drink.

Persephone had been in the water when she first noticed him. It was the movement that caught her eye; the vastness of difference between the sharp, sturdy angles of the Underworld’s Master and the brightly swathed, easily flowing movements of everyone around him. To his credit, however, Hades did not seem uncomfortable. Perhaps a little out of place, but he moved with a natural ease and didn’t glance twice at the path of wide eyes he left in his wake.

She had been in the middle of wrestling playfully with Hermes in waist deep water, trying to save her hair from being completely submerged, when her gaze was pulled to the palace doors. Persephone wouldn’t ever forget the way Hades extended a hand towards Poseidon, a goblet dangling carelessly from his long fingers, and simultaneously turned his body just so and caught Persephone’s eye. It was like he had already known where she was.

The half second of connection froze Persephone in place. Hermes, oblivious to the change in Persephone’s demeanor as he was to everything else around him, had taken advantage of her temporary immobility to seize her around the waist and pull her into the water with him. By the time she emerged, hair soaked, her mouth open in shock, Hades had turned back to his brother.

But now, hearing Nike’s laughter and seeing Poseidon’s distraction, Hades glanced back over. Persephone imagined she was feeling much like a young schoolgirl; always aware of when he looked over, hoping he would pay more attention than last time. But why? She didn’t understand it for the life of her. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to understand her sudden emotions towards the God of the Underworld. She didn’t know him, hadn’t even spoken to him.

But...they had spoken, hadn’t they? Maybe not with words but with gestures and glances. And she wasn’t completely oblivious to the man he might be. Clearly he wasn’t a usual guest at such parties but he had come this year and stayed this long so that must mean something. He wasn’t immune to festivities and laughter, either- she had seen him smiling at Zeus while the god of the sky relayed a story to him earlier. Persephone had even managed to draw out his participation in a rather playful manner during the game of tag when he decided to help her. She smiled to herself. That was cheating, her sensible side reminded her. But she didn’t care. It had been fun. Worth it. But again, the question of why?

“Nike, it wasn’t that funny!” Apollo reached around Artemis to tug on Nike’s blonde hair. She cackled and smacked his hand away. “Don’t be sore because Persephone dismissed you. I’m sure it hasn’t been the first time.”

“Nike!” But with a glance at Apollo, Persephone burst into laughter. The look on his face was priceless. “Nike, hush. I haven’t before...I mean I didn’t mean it like that, I was just- oh stop it!” The rest of the goddesses had joined in the laughter and Persephone hid her face in her hands, still laughing. Apollo picked up on her mortification and threw himself down on the cushion next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. All hurt feelings, real or faux, had vanished.

“Oh, don’t worry about them, Honey. We all knew you were joking. In fact- agh!”

Artemis had reached around Eris to yank Apollo away from Persephone, pushing him to his feet. He complied, reluctantly, stumbling as he rose.

“Away!” Artemis snapped. She shooed him in the general direction of “away” in case he needed help in his inebriated state. Apollo stuck his tongue out but went, his golden curls swaying. Artemis took his place next to Persephone in a flash and somehow managed to not spill the plate of food she was holding. Persephone helped herself to the small chunks of lamb and Artemis gladly shared.

The eyes were still on her. They hadn’t remained the entire time, glancing away shortly and drifting around the rest of the lawn to briefly land on the gods wrestling, the musicians and dancers, the more refined deities walking arm in arm along the lit paths. The eyes took everything in with a single, sweeping glance. Poseidon was still talking at his side, the wine having loosened his tongue considerably. Persephone wondered if Hades had done that on purpose. Even she knew that a wine-tipped tongue shared considerably more entertaining thoughts. Or perhaps secrets.

Persephone was watching Hades from over Artemis’ shoulder and trying to act like she was simply glancing around at all the guests. Thankfully, it wasn’t hard to pretend with the amount of deities now populating the lawn. From around the bonfire, Nike and Aphrodite had jointly begun telling a story that Persephone was only half paying attention to. Something about the elusive Tyche whom Persephone had unsurprisingly only heard tales about. Their voices were rising and falling with dramatic recounting and the other goddess nibbled off Artemis’ plate and listened closely.

But Persephone allowed herself to drift away a bit. She remained tuned in to what her friends were saying, lest she give herself away, but she gradually shifted more of her attention over Artemis’ shoulder. Hades profile was a sharp one and the more she looked, the harder it was for Persephone to glance away. It was sharp enough to cut stone. Strong jaw, strong nose, strong chin. If Persephone was an artist she would have spent days trying to paint his likeness. Standing the way he was in the contrast of light and shadow, she was able to see the shimmer of his eyes as he, too, distracted himself whilst listening to the person next to him.

Persephone watched as his eyes drifted over the guests on the lawn and fell on the rectangular pool. She followed his gaze. Helios was now waist deep in the water, his dreadlocks tied into a thick knot by the base of his neck to keep them dry. There was a dainty goddess in his strong arms and her laughter sounded like a choir of bells as Helios spun her around and around, spraying them both with mist. Hades’ chest shifted as though he had laughed but no smile crossed his face. Until...there. Yes, that was a smile. A small one. Somewhat sharp, maybe harboring other feelings besides amusement, but...still a smile. Persephone found herself following suit.

Until that half smirk dropped and his eyes flashed to hers, catching her red-handed. Persephone froze, her smile shrinking away. She had been in the process of raising a grape to her mouth but it was immediately forgotten, her hand stilling in front of her chest. Hades was unreadable as he studied her from across the lawn. Poseidon was now deep into his drink and talking freely, so Hades’ distraction went unnoticed. And Persephone soon found the fear in her stomach began to evaporate. The nervous energy, the butterflies, still remained, but as Hades raised a single, inquiring eyebrow at her as if to say ‘yes?’, she was not afraid. So, with as much bravado as a young, inexperienced, nervous goddess could muster in the sights of a much older, much larger, much more intimidating god, Persephone shrugged and popped her grape into her mouth. ‘Nothing.’

Hades flicked his eyes up to the sky. Was he...rolling his eyes at her? A sliver of Persephone’s bravado gave way to incredulity. Her smile turned stiff and her once-playful eyes now took on a backsplash of darker amusement. She tilted her head and sent an eyebrow up as Hades’ gaze returned to her from his brief moment of attitude. He absorbed Persephone’s sass from across the lawn and did something that didn’t surprise her in the least. He laughed.

Not loud and booming like Helios, but somehow just as forceful. His mouth split, revealing straight, white teeth to form a grin brimming with arrogance. Just like that, he had gotten a rise out of her without lifting a finger. Persephone realized what he had done, what he had caused her to do, and dropped her gaze to her lap with a smile of her own.

The bonfire on her right was still blazing happily and the goddesses weren’t more than part way through their story. Persephone tuned back in for a moment as she reached for more from Artemis’ plate. She passed a square of lamb to Athena and settled back into her cushion. When she found time to spare another glance at Hades and Poseidon, she found Hades’ demeanor had drastically changed. So much so that she found herself glancing around him to see what had suddenly gone wrong. His entire body was tensed, if only slightly, and his eyes were no longer sparking with whatever wicked amusement Persephone had ignited in them moments before. If she were closer, she figured she would find the grip around the stem of his goblet was now much tighter.

And then all of a sudden she understood. Or rather, she saw.

Demeter had appeared in the doorway of the palace, framed in the golden light spilling onto the grass. She looked...Persephone knew that look. Recognized it from the many times Demeter had found her too far away from home or gone too long after dark. Worry, fear, anger.

Disappointment shot through Persephone like a clap of thunder. Then on its tail, guilt. Who was she to be disappointed in seeing her mother? Demeter was only worried because she hadn’t seen her daughter all night and had no idea where she was or what she had gotten into. Persephone had no right to be disappointed. Demeter on the other hand…

Persephone glanced down at her dress. It was now dry but it was wrinkled and a little dirty from rolling around on the lawn. Grass stains marred her bare feet and she was positive her hair was still damp. The guilt sunk further, nestling down into her chest. Demeter had asked her to do one thing, one, and Persephone hadn’t managed to do so. All her mother asked was that her daughter behave and what had Persephone done? She drank and went swimming in her gown and running through the palace and rolling on the grass. Persephone closed her eyes. She felt heavy. Cold, despite the fire.

“Persephone?” Artemis. “Honey, what is it? Are you feeling well?” Persephone opened her eyes when Artemis gently shook her.

“Yes, I’m sorry. It’s just-”

“Oh, dammit it to Tartarus, it’s your mother.” Eris scrambled to her feet. “Come with me, I can try to hide you. Maybe we can-”

“No, no, Eris,” Persephone interrupted. “No, it’s been long enough. I should go to her. She’s probably worried sick and I told her I would stick close by.”

There was silence around the fire. Aphrodite’s hands were clenched together. Nike hadn’t taken her eyes off Demeter, keeping track of her when Pesephone was turned. Then, tentatively, Athena asked, “Are you sure?”

Persephone nodded. “Yes. It’s been hours. Five, at least. I should explain where I’ve been and try to apologize-”

“You should do no such thing!” Artemis rose when Persephone did, putting a hand on her arm to prevent her from leaving. “Maybe for vanishing for so long, but don’t you dare apologize for having such harmless fun. It wouldn’t be fair. To you, I mean.”

Persephone glanced over to the palace doors where Demeter still stood, scanning the lawn for her lost daughter. Not truly meaning it, she turned to Artemis and said, “All right. I won’t.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No.” Persephone smiled. “She’s my mother, not a dragon. I’ll be just fine, don’t worry.”

Artemis nodded but the concern didn’t budge. “We’ll be here. Don’t leave without saying goodbye.”

Persephone promised, and stepped out of the safe ring of light cast from the fire, leaving the safety of her sisters as she did so. She worked her way steadily across the lawn towards her mother and tried to make herself more presentable as she went. Thankfully, it was dark, and Demeter wouldn’t notice most of Persephone’s unkemptness until they were home or in the bright palace.

“Mother!” Persephone called out when she was close enough and picked up her pace, forcing a smile she didn’t feel onto her face. “There you are! I’m sorry I wasn’t with you, but I knew Hera-”

“Where have you been?” Demeter rushed forward and grabbed her daughter, pulling her into her bosom. Persephone embraced her, inhaling the familiar scent of Demeter’s clothing and feeling the smooth muscle underneath. “I’ve been worried for hours. And what were you doing running around like that inside? Were you with Dionysus? I’ve told you not to mingle with him, or Nike! Do you have any idea the kind of trouble they get into?”

“Oh, mother, they wouldn’t have made me do anything I didn’t want to. I’ve spoken with them. They’re kind.”

“Until they want something from you-” Demeter’s hand went to stroke Persephone’s hair but jerked away when she felt it. “Is that- are you...did you go swimming?”

Persephone’s heart thundered. “Just a little. Hermes splashed me too much but my dress is fine, I promise.” Lie. “There weren’t many people around, nobody saw us.” Lie. “Helios was there.” Not a lie, but it didn’t necessarily make things better. Demeter seemed unconvinced by all of it.

“Are you lying to me, Persephone? Why in Olympus would you allow those scoundrels to drag you into something like that?”

“It was only a bit of fun, nothing came of it-”

“And- and running through the palace like a child! Persephone, I expected better of you, I truly did. You’ve begged me to allow you to attend these events for years and this is what you have to show for it? What’s next? Soon you’ll be showing me the grass stains on your arms!”

Persephone hardly found that fair. “Mother, I get grass stains at home all the time,” she said firmly. “And please don’t call them scoundrels. They’re kind and everything I did tonight, I did because I wanted to. Nobody forced me to do anything, I wouldn’t have let them. You should know that, of all people!”

“Yes, I seem to be having trouble getting you to do anything of late, it seems. Well, it serves me right, allowing you to be around such…”

“Please don’t call my friends names.” Persephone’s tone was hard. Demeter stopped, her brow rising dangerously.

“Oh, is that what they are, now? Friends? They’re your friends, Persephone?” She chuckled, finding Persephone’s words amusing. “No, darling, they are not. No deity of such...standing should be, at least. Let alone that many of them.”

Persephone jerked away from her mother and batted off the grasping hand that followed. “Standing?” Her voice broke. “That’s what this is about? You think I’m too good for them.”

Demeter blinked, her mouth twitching upwards. “Persephone...they’re troublemakers, all of them. Of course you’re too good for them.”

“They...they don’t- they’re not troublemakers, mother. They’re kind and loving and accepting. No one is too good for a loving friend. And so what if they cause a little commotion? It’s harmless!”

Demeter’s condescension turned hard, her eyes losing any remaining light. Yelling was not her way, but the softness was almost worse. “Persephone, the impression you have made tonight on everyone around us is anything but harmless. Pure foolishness, petty games, it’s all the behavior of a young child who doesn’t know her place. I never should have allowed you to come.”

Tears stung the back of Persephone’s throat. The hollow feeling in her chest had spread and spread until it was now threatening to swallow her up completely. She wanted to shrink away, disappear. That wasn’t true, wasn’t true...was it? No, she didn’t think so. With effort, Persephone pulled up the memory of locking eyes with Zeus as she pressed against the marble pillar whilst hiding from Eris. He had smiled at her. She had felt like a young girl giggling with her father. And Hades, how he had assisted her on his own accord, without truly having a reason other than he simply felt like it. She remembered the soft laughter from the older deities as she and her friends had gone zipping around the grand floor. No judgment, no astonishment, no....none of this.

Persephone clenched her fingers in the dress and swallowed back the unsteadiness of her voice when she said, “I’m sorry for leaving you for so long when I told you I would stay nearby. But I am not sorry for enjoying my first night out.”

Demeter’s eyes widened and she let out a chuckle that sounded far from amused. “Oh, well, I’m very glad you enjoyed yourself, Persephone. Especially on such a momentous occasion such as your first night out, as it will also be your last. We’re going home. Now.”

Persephone’s heart plummeted. She told herself she shouldn’t be surprised but she still couldn’t help the grief washing over her and turning her skin cold. Swallowing back another wave of tears, she choked out, “Let me say goodbye first.”

Demeter sighed. “Persephone-” “No! If you’re taking me home, then I get to say goodbye.” Persephone was already turning away. “I won’t be gone a minute. I promise.” And before her mother could remind her how her last promise ended up, Persephone had skittered out of reach.

The haze of light around the fire blurred with stinging tears. Persephone wiped at her face, feeling more childish by the second as she kept her head down and made her way to her friends. They had been polite enough to not watch the confrontation but apparently Aphrodite had been peeking over her shoulder; she saw Persephone coming and ran to meet her. Persephone grasped the goddess’s hand and pulled her the rest of the way to the fire. She didn’t wish to be anywhere near her mother.

“What happened, Honey?” Aphrodite pulled her down onto a cushion and held her with strong arms. Tears leaked from Persephone’s eyes and dampened Aphrodite’s shoulder.

“She’s angry. She scolded me for running around inside and getting my hair wet. Called me childish-”

“Oh! That-” Nike sprung from her seat but Eris grabbed her arm. “Don’t,” Eris whispered. With effort, she persuaded Nike to sit.

Aphrodite pulled Persephone away from her so she could wipe her tears. It was the action of a mother towards a child, but the only reason Persephone felt childish was because of the words thrown at her from Demeter. There was relative silence around the fire but the jovial sounds of the celebration still dominated. It was different now, however. A reminder of what Persephone couldn’t have, what she wasn’t allowed to experience. But why not? Something unfamiliar burned deep within the young goddess’ chest, red and dark and hot.

“And your mother is...letting you stay?” Artemis sounded tentative to ask. Persephone let out a wobbly sigh and sat up straighter.

“No. I’m here to say goodbye, as I promised. I won’t-” she faltered, barely able to think the words let alone vocalize them. “About next year...I won’t…”

Her meaning registered in the minds of the women around her, and Persephone watched as a ripple of despair and disbelief washed over their faces. Athena’s mouth dropped, her hand coming up to clutch her heart. Nike had gone very, very still.

“You mean you aren’t allowed back?” Nike asked tonelessly. Persephone nodded.

“Yes. Mother knows best.” Sarcasm cruelly twisted her words. Nike clenched her jaw so hard she might have broken teeth if she didn’t stop to stay, “That’s bullshit, she can’t just tell you not to come.”

“Nike-” Eris’ hand was shoved away.

“I’m serious. Persephone, you don’t need to do what she tells you just because she’s your mother. You’re your own woman, aren’t you?”

Persephone knew Nike’s anger was not directed at her. She glanced over her shoulder and saw her mother engaged in casual conversation with Hephaestus, whom she hadn’t seen all night until now. He must have just arrived. Demeter was still keeping half her attention on her daughter, and Persephone turned around before she could catch her eye.

“It’s more complicated than that,” She told Nike. “I can’t just....disobey her. I have nowhere to go on Earth if she turns me away. It’s not like Olympus down there, and it’s my home.”

“You’ll always have a place with us,” Athena murmured. Her soft smile did wonders for Persephone’s raging emotions. “I mean that, Honey. You’re one of us. Our sister.”

Persephone swallowed thickly and blinked back another onslaught of tears. “I need to say goodbye to our other halves,” she smiled. “Any idea where they might be?”

Eris tittered playfully and knelt besides Persephone to embrace her. “They’re always stealing you from us,” she whined. Persephone hugged her, hard. She said tearful goodbyes to her friends with exchanged embraces and kisses, and made a promise to try her best to see them sometime soon. Nobody knew what would come of that promise. When she was done, Persephone slunk around the back of the fire, slipping out of her mother’s sight when Demeter glanced at Hephaestus for a single second and lost track of her daughter. Aphrodite had kissed Persephone and pointed out Apollo and Hermes, to whom Persephone now ran.

Apollo yelled her name and opened his arms to her once he spotted her, but she hushed him with a fierce look in her eye. He frowned.

“My mother is expecting me and I’m not supposed to be with you. Either of you. I’ve come to say goodbye and to tell you I may not see you again for a long while.”

It was Hermes’ turn to frown. “What do you mean by that? Demeter really can’t expect to keep you on Earth away from us now that you’ve met us all.”

“Or perhaps she does. Fuck,” Apollo swore. “Are you sure there’s no way you can sneak away from her? Even if it’s just for Midsummer next year?” Persephone smiled softly at the golden-haired god. “You’re too kind, Apollo. Perhaps my mother will change her mind by next year, perhaps not. But...it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to sneak out.” She winked mischievously, feeling the effort it took to appear so careless, and both gods laughed. Apollo embraced her and Hermes patted her shoulder. He would be seeing her more often due to his frequent tasks on Earth and wasn’t feeling the same grief the rest of Persephone’s friends were.

“Hermes, you tell me everything that happens whenever you see her,” Apollo demanded. Persephone quieted him when she threw her arms around his neck and held him close. She patted his unruly curls and kissed his temple.

“Thank you for being so kind,” she said sincerely. “It’s been a wonderful night. One I wouldn’t trade for the world.”

Apollo squeezed her and let her go. Even through his drunken state, his eyes shone with sadness. Persephone moved on to find Ares and Dio. She found them by a second bonfire. Dionysus, having slept off his first round of drunkness some hours before and was now steadily working towards it a second time, reacted almost violently to her news. He swore just like Apollo had and told Persephone she could always come stay with him if she ever chose to leave Earth. Persephone was touched. She had known these deities for a single night and every one of them had deemed her worthy their hearts, minds, and now their homes.

With only Helios to find, Persephone was drawing closer to leaving the momentous Midsummer for a very, very long time. She was glad when Ares informed her Helios had gone into the palace. Demeter was still on the lawn with Hephaestus and a glance at her old bonfire told Persephone that the goddesses remained in their clumped formation, giving off the appearance that Persephone was still among them. She smirked. Clever women.

The palace light was warmth incarnate compared to the night’s chilly wind and cruel words it had allowed. The large floor was as sparse as it had been the last time Persephone was inside, but not so much so that she spotted Helios at once. She passed the fountains of wine and the base of the large statue she had started her night perched upon. Unfamiliar deities passed around her but no Helios, no Zeus, no Poseidon. Hades was nowhere to be seen as well. Persephone had passed directly by the stone patio and hadn’t seen Hades there either, despite him being there with his brother not half an hour before. Where was he?

A strange pang shot through Persephone’s chest. She wished for...what? Did she wish to say goodbye to Hades like she had with all the rest of her friends? But that was ridiculous; they hadn’t spoken, hadn’t introduced themselves. Hades might not even know who she was. A small part of Persephone- the part that had grown frighteningly larger since the beginning of the night- urged her to go seek out Hades anyways just for the hell of it. When had she had such interesting interactions with someone before? And when would she see him again?

She pushed the thought aside for the time being when she saw Helios. He was leaning against the thick, gilded banister attached to the grand staircase towards the back of the palace. The staircase was a masterpiece of carved marble and polished metal twisting up to the higher levels. The stairs were wide enough for a crowd of deities to stand shoulder to shoulder upon but they were currently empty.

The couple Helios was speaking to looked up when Persephone came into view. She recognized their faces but didn’t try very hard to recall their names. Helios smiled broadly, teeth gleaming, but noticed something was off right away. The unfamiliar couple said respectful farewells and left him with Persephone. As soon as they moved away, Helios placed his goblet on the stairs and extended a hand. Persephone took it, his hand dwarfing her smaller one. His grip was tight, sturdy.

“She’s taking me home,” She spoke after a few minutes of silence.

“Yes.” No surprise.

“And I’m not allowed to return.”

“No.” Softer. Sadder.

“I don’t understand. What have I done that was so terrible that I must be kept a prisoner in my own home? I won’t be allowed to even leave the property, let alone visit my friends!”

“Persephone, child…” Helios shook his head. He ran a free hand over his eyes and turned his gaze down to catch and hold her eyes. “You are a smart young woman. You know the situation you are in. I can’t advise you one way or the other-”

“You could!”

“No. What you do and how you react must be your choice. You are old enough to decide for yourself what you want out of your life. Where you want to go, how you want to live, it’s all up to you. But choose wisely. Some deities are slow to forgiveness. Others don’t forgive at all.”

Persephone was perplexed. His words weren’t making sense and her mother would have noticed her ruse by now. She was going to be furious. Perhaps Persephone had made all this worse by sneaking off again but she hadn’t been able to help herself. She hated this- this stupid situation she was in, her predicament. If only she could just shut her eyes and wake up on the lawn next to a passed out Dionysus and hear the laughter of Apollo and Ares teasing her for nodding off.

But the empty hole in her chest was a relentless reminder that her grief and sorrow were cruelly, brutally real.

“Please, Helios, just tell me what to do! I love my mother but I’ve never been so angry with her before. She treats me like a child and all I want is for her to-”

Helios’ face shifted. Whirling around, Persephone knew what she would see before she saw it. Demeter had left the lawn, having clearly figured out her daughter was no longer outside. To Persephone’s strange amusement, Hephaestus was still besides Demeter, happily chatting away. Demeter was ignoring him as best she could but it was nearly impossible to ignore a god that large. Especially as he mirrored your motions.

Demeter had yet to see Persephone due to her position towards the back of the room but she would soon unless Persephone put her big-girl dress on and made a move before then. Persephone cast her eyes around, searching. Not the staircase. It was too large and too empty for her to dash up without being spotted. Perhaps...no, the hallway in front of her was too close to her mother. She would be spotted. She turned and saw an identical hallway behind her, leading around a corner and deeper into the palace. Perfect.

Persephone squeezed Helios’ hand. “I’ll see you later.” With a troublesome smile, Persephone disappeared from Helios’ side. The room was not bursting to capacity as it had been at the start of the night, meaning Persephone could not simply vanish amongst all the other deities, but she took advantage of her slight stature and made it work. Within a few seconds even Helios had to concentrate to find her. And that was only because he knew where to look.

The sun god chuckled to himself and stooped to regain possession of his wine. A wild thing, that Persephone. How she flourished with such bravery under Demeter’s tight leash, he could only guess. He let her disappear from sight.

Persephone was in the hallway and around the corner before she allowed herself to notice how fast her heart was beating. If she hadn’t been in trouble before, she certainly would be now. The hole she had dug herself was getting rapidly deeper and she figured it would bottom out somewhere, but she would worry about it did so.

Feeling somewhat triumphant from her escapade and confident that she won herself a few more minutes of freedom, Persephone allowed her pace to slow. She was further into the palace and was coming upon the more casual rooms that constituted the everyday living. A library door was cracked open ever so slightly and Persephone resisted the urge to enter. Further down the hall was a large sitting room from which Persephone heard soft voices whispering and moving around. Maids. The sounds of the party were muffled now and seemed detached from the secret realm Persephone had entered. Her footfalls were quiet as she walked. Her bare feet did well to muffle her movements but they soon grew numb with cold from the marble floor. Why so much marble? Isn’t that frightfully expensive?

The hallway opened up to an indoor courtyard and split off in two opposite directions. Persephone halted. She was far enough in that the only sounds she could hear behind her was the occasional hoot of laughter and the loudest part of the musician’s songs. Instead she was surrounded by the eerie calm of the palace. Barren, silent, hidden away. A trickle of water from a nearby fountain was the only interruption of silence.

Well, you’ve gotten yourself this far. What are you going to do now? Persephone had to be honest with herself: she hadn’t a single clue. What was there to do? Perhaps she could stay here awhile before trying to sneak back outside and find her mother. Or maybe it would be wiser to rejoin the goddesses and act as though she had been there all along. Or-

She froze. Voices to the left, and not maids. These were deep, heavy voices that didn’t take as much care to keep themselves from being heard. The one currently speaking was unfamiliar to Persephone. The words were rough, the scraping of gravel, but the tone was light as the god attached to it murmured something to his companion. Persephone couldn’t make out the words. The voice was too deep. But she could tell that both deities were drawing closer so she dashed around the padded settees and a set of fountains to swing around the corner of the hallway closest to her, safely out of sight. She was now opposite to where she had come in and cut off from any desperate escape back to the party. Unless she could find a roundabout way through the palace or perhaps through the upper levels but Persephone doubted she could. Besides, her interest had been sparked.

Busybody, her sensible mind chastised. Persephone smiled crookedly at herself and held her breath as the voices came nearer. Daring a quick peek around the corner, she saw that the courtyard was still empty. Footsteps were now audible, however, so she swung out of sight and scooted further down the hallway.

The first and only voice Persephone had heard, the rough one, was still speaking.

“I’m not entirely sure why you’ve decided to ask for my council on the matter, brother. And, coincidentally, I’m not sure why you’ve dragged me away from the party to tell me this.” Persephone frowned. The once light tone had shifted into boredom. But who did she know with a brother? There weren’t many among them. The answer hit her the moment the second god spoke and confirmed her need for the shock now blooming through her chest.

“Oh, it isn’t as if you were enjoying yourself at the party. And you know why. That damned bitch our brother married has ears everywhere.” Posiedon. Talking about-

“Easy, now. Hera deserves your respect. And frankly, you could march right up to her and tell her exactly what you just told me and she wouldn’t bat an eye. You, brother, are far too dramatic for your own good. There’s still no reason for you to have dragged me here.”

“Oh, fine. Be like that. How very like you to abandon me in my time of need.” Posiedon was balancing on the very thin line of tipsy and drunk, Persephone could tell. Hades heaved a semi-tolerant sigh.

“An affair with a handmaiden is not a time of need, Posiedon.”

“Not to you-”

“No. And to anyone else, for that matter.”

“It will be once Hera tells my damned wife!”

Persephone could almost fell Hades shrugging. “You would prevent all this trouble for yourself if you didn’t fuck other goddesses, Posiedon.”

Posiedon was growing exasperated from his elder brother’s lack of assistance. It was still unclear to Persephone what, exactly, Posiedon had expected Hades to do, but she still had to bite her lip to keep from giggling. After a quiet few moments where Persephone imagined Posiedon glaring hazily at his brother, Hades finally said, “Is that all?”

Poseidon scoffed and muttered, “Is that all?” in a mocking tone. Hades’ laughter rumbled low across the courtyard and nearly sent Persephone to her knees. Heat blossomed across her cheeks.

Laughter was not the response Poseidon had been looking for. The watery god sent an exasperated sound into the air before turning and walking noisily away, deciding reluctantly that the conversation had reached its full potential. He briefly came into Persephone’s view as he turned down the hallway she had came from on his way to returning to the party. She waited for Hades to follow, but he remained.

Persephone was still stuck. Without Hades leaving, there was no way she herself could return to the party and thus, her mother. It wasn’t as though she was in a rush to come face to face with Demeter after the stunt she just pulled but Persephone was now aware of the predicament she was in. With Hades, of all deities. She was rolling around the idea of exploring the hallways behind her when Hades spoke again, his voice projecting across the courtyard to slam into her chest.

“Clever enough to hide from Poseidon but not from Demeter?”

Pure shock paralyzed Persephone and it took her mind a few slow seconds to grapple with the idea that Hades was speaking to her. Oh, no. Heat washed over her entire body. She had nothing to say. She was caught, embarrassed, and with no idea as to what would come of this. When moments lapsed into silence, Hades said, “Don’t pretend you aren’t there. It’s rather dull having a conversation with one’s self.”

He didn’t seem angry, but Persephone was still wary. Her heart was pounding painfully against her ribcage and her fingers were quivering with either nerves or anticipation, she didn’t know. Wrestling up the last of her courage and perhaps some that wasn’t even there, she stepped out from around the corner and into view of the God of the Underworld. As soon as she saw him, she was struck with how foolish she had been. What was she doing?

She hadn’t been this close to him before. Hades was leaning against a marble pillar only a few strides to Persephone’s right. His head was tipped back to rest against the structure and his eyes were half-lidded. He looked tired but not in a sickly way. Just...weary after seven hours of a ceaseless party, flowing wine, and perhaps too many deities he hadn’t wanted to converse with. Nonetheless, his striking appearance hadn’t yielded. The opposite, in fact. From this close, Persephone could see the individual hairs curling over Hades’ forehead and down to his ears. She could see the faint rim of his pupils against the darkness of his eyes as well as the sharp contrast of his cheekbones and jaw in the soft, warm light.

Persephone kept a hand on the wall and managed to meet his eye with an air of confidence. The corner of Hades’ mouth turned up in a sinful smirk.

“There you are. I was starting to think I would have to come get you.”

What did that mean? Persephone blinked, currently unable to form coherent words once faced with the sight that was Hades. His voice was somehow different now directed at her; softer yet rougher. Straddling the line between dismissal and playfulness.

She managed, “I’m Persephone,” simply because she had nothing else to say. The smirk grew into a grin.

“Yes, so I’ve been told. Pleasure to meet you, Persephone.”

What did he mean ‘been told’? Who had he been asking about her?

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Hades. I...I apologize for eavesdropping, it wasn’t really my intention.”

“Don’t sound so nervous, I won’t bite your head off. You’re only down here, I imagine, because you’re avoiding the charming Demeter.” Sarcasm twisted his last sentence. Persephone scoffed with amusement and yielded a slow nod.

“But I don’t think I’ve helped myself by running away again.” She didn’t know why she was telling him this other than the fact that he wasn’t leaving or telling her off. Hades flicked a groomed brow skywards.

“Probably not. She’s always been fierce about her own.”

Persephone did not want to continue this line of conversation. The last thing she wanted her first conversation with Hades to be about was her mother and her protective instincts.

“I won’t tell anyone about...Posiedon.” She was hesitant to use the exact words that Hades had to describe his brother’s affair a few moments before.

“Oh, it wouldn’t matter if you did, flower. Amphitrite is having her own affair with Kratos.”

Persephone’s mouth parted in surprise. Oh. Hot on the tail of the gossip Hades had shared was the realization that he had just called her ‘flower’. She willed herself not to blush. She also wasn’t sure if she wanted to continue this line of conversation, either. It seemed dangerous. So, only partly thinking about what came out, Persephone opened her mouth and said, “Is it true you have a hound?”

Hades looked both shocked and amused. His other brow rose to meet the first. Then a sly smile gradually appeared. “Yes,” he said slowly. “That’s true.”

“And it-he...has…”

“Three heads?” A chuckle. “Yes. That’s also true.”

“Oh.” She swallowed and added, “Does he have a name?” She felt silly asking that until Hades said, “As a matter of fact, he does. I call him Cerberus. He makes my work much easier and I wouldn’t trade him for the world.”

Persephone smiled despite her pounding heart. “My mother tells me he guards the gates of the Underworld to prevent souls from leaving.”

“Oh, so she’s telling stories about me, is that it?”

Persephone tilted her chin up. “About your dog, not you.”

“Fair enough. And why was dear Demeter telling you stories about my hound?”

“Oh, just to tell me to never attempt to enter the Underworld.”

Hades gave Persephone a strange look. “Why would she have to tell you not to do a thing like that?”

Persephone paused, her false bravado melting away. The real answer was frightfully embarrassing but she had a feeling she would end up telling him anyways. Hades’ look had turned speculative. Like he was reading her mind.

“You heard stories about Cerberus, yes?” It was commonplace enough. Hades knew his hound was well known. Persephone nodded and hoped he would leave it at that. But when Hades rolled his eyes, smiled to himself, and settled back against the pillar, she knew he wasn’t going to leave it alone. “Hermes told you Cerberus was friendly, didn’t he?”

It was so spot on that Persephone blurted, “Did Hermes tell you that?” The messenger god had been chased away by Demeter but the notion had stuck in Persephone’s mind for a long while. Hades tilted his head back and laughed softly.

“No, he did not.”

“Then how-”

“There was a young boy some years ago that was in a similar circumstance.” Hades shrugged, a graceful motion. “He wandered too far where he shouldn’t have and found himself in my domain.”

“What happened?”

Hades smiled. “He got what he wanted, at least. It just wasn’t what he had expected.” His eyes shone with a wet, feral light. Surely the boy….

“You let him out, didn’t you? Of the Underworld?” Persephone asked haltingly.

“Of course I did. He didn’t belong down there. Not yet, at least. I figure I’ll see him again in a few decades.” Hades downed the rest of his wine with a neat flick of his wrist. “Now, something tells me Demeter is brewing chaos trying to find you.”

Persephone’s eye roll was a product of many years’ worth of practice. When Hades laughed again she realized with a jolt that she was beginning to enjoy the sound. But before she could start processing how much trouble that would get her into, both literally and figuratively, Hades said, “She’s her own creature, that one. It’ll be less trouble if you go sooner rather than later.”

“Well, yes, but I’m not sure I can get into any more trouble than I already am.”

“Oh? Mother didn’t like a wet dress?” His voice was stone against stone.

Persephone glared at him, hoping it would distract him from the fact that she was blushing. How had he known her dress was wet?

“Not really, if you must know. Nor was she thrilled about me running around the palace like a child.” Now she was just complaining, but it felt necessary. Persephone was tired and simply dreading to reunite with her mother. Her life had been starting to make her feel like she wasn’t able to breath, but the deities she had met tonight-now including Hades- had been like a punch to the chest that had caused her to gasp and come alive.

Hades hummed thoughtfully and pushed off the wall to take a few steps closer to Persephone. Now closer, Persephone felt very small indeed. He was tall, almost taller than Helios but with less...gaud. Helios was all bright jewellery and booming voice and intricately braided hair while Hades was sharp, refined edges and the mystery of the ink disappearing underneath his collar and sleeves. Maybe Persephone would ask Hermes about them and see if he knew what they meant. Or maybe not. Hermes had a big mouth.

“Cerberus is friendly,” Hades told Persephone, surprising her. He turned and strode across the courtyard, following the path Posiedon took to return to the party. Over his shoulder, he called, “Feel free to give him some company if you so desire.” Then Hades had disappeared down the hallway and Persephone was left with nothing but her roaring, confused, slightly giddy thoughts.

She looked around the empty courtyard as if asking invisible people ‘what the hell was that all about?’ The only answer was a distant, roaring laugh that Persephone easily placed as Dionysus.

“Oh, shut up, Dio,” she muttered as though he had been laughing at her strife. When the laugh came again a few seconds later, Persephone found her mouth twitching into a smile. She turned on her heel and marched towards the party and the thunderstorm she had caused her mother to become.

#malogranatum #persephone #hades #hades and persephone #Greek Mythology #greek gods #greek goddesses #hades x persephone

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