Hades And Persephone: Curse Of The Golden Arrow

by Heidi Hastings

  He took her arm again and drew her to the bed. “Sit,” he said softly. She complied, stretching out against the satin sheets, but her body was tense as he slid onto the bed, rising over her. “Relax,” his voice prodded softly. “It will be over in a moment.” She had closed her eyes, but they shot open when she felt his fingers flex against her face and her hands tightened on the smooth covers, letting their cool softness bunch in her fingers. “Relax,” he repeated again, and then his head lowered and she gave a small groan as his lips moved against hers. She ran her hands through his dark hair, pulling him closer, and his tongue brushed at the seam of her lips as she opened her mouth beneath his, welcoming the intrusion.

  At the touch of his tongue against hers she felt memories begin to shift again in her mind; she was a child in the forest, her mother laughing as they splashed through a river, then older as she stood at a banquet in the lavish halls of Olympus feeling hungry eyes on her, then crying in her bed in the quiet night of her mother’s temple, aching with fear and loneliness. She was helpless as the thoughts swirled in her mind. And then -- the shadowed man hovered to the forefront of her vision while the golden figures hung suspended in time. He sucked and pulled at her lips and she felt panic consume her as the memories began to dim, become vague, and his lips seemed to draw away the figures until nothing remained of them except the awareness of loss. She felt a tear slide down her cheek as his head began to draw back. His lips were next to her ear. “Do you still hate me? Do you still curse the day you met me?” She stiffened beneath him, the words had been so soft she did not know if they were real or imagined, echoes of memories in her mind. Then he rolled off of her and sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes closed -- deep in thought.

  “The dark figure could be anyone. I see no features,” he stated calmly. He twisted his fingers in intricate patterns, rewinding the vision over and over, trying to get any clue of what the vision was. “The room was too dark, but you are right, it is full of malice towards you, it wishes you harm.” There was a knock on the door. “Enter,” Hades said. It was the guards. The search so far had yielded nothing and Cerberus had seen no one enter or leave the Underworld. He instructed them to continue their search and to station more guards outside of the palace. Hades walked back to her, “You are safe now, no one is down here. Whoever or whatever it was has vanished.”

  "I am not safe,” she replied quietly, sitting on the edge of his bed.

  “Someone is coming.” He is coming. She began to stand, panic racing through her when Hades gave a gentle push against her shoulders and she fell back onto the bed. He placed a blanket over her and then sat close to her feet.

  “Time is broken down here -- with Cronos locked in Tartarus. He is the keeper of time and there are moments when you can see glimpses of the past and the future -- things that have happened and things that have yet to occur. It is possible that the figure was a premonition of things to come. There is nothing we can do tonight.”

  She shivered at his words, at the memory of his horrible father who had committed such atrocities against his own son. He spoke cooly, but she knew that the hurt and rage simmered near the surface. His hand was so close to her own, but his remoteness kept her from grasping it. His posture was stiff and he looked ready to flee, when she longed for him to stay with her, to warm the coldness from her and keep the fear at bay.

  “What else can you see?”

  Hades gaze moved into the blue embers of the fire. “Sometimes you can see fragments of time - things that might have been, but did not come to pass. Endless futures that will never come to be. Time and fate are woven intimately together and one may alter the other. It is almost like watching another version of your life play out. Some better and some far worse. It can play tricks with your mind and can even drive you mad. Time is cruel -- like my father. It withers mortals and sucks the life out of them.” His face hardened as he stared into the flames, “Time… haunts all of us.”

  “But why would this dark figure feel such anger towards me?”

  Hades’ eyes moved towards her then, “In two days, Venus squares my planet, in the sky. The symptoms of the curse will heighten. My jealousy, insecurity, anger, and frustration will all be directed towards the one thing that consumes me... you.”

  "What I saw, could not have been you,” she cried, sitting up. "It was mocking and filled with hate. You have never tried to scare or harm me!"

  “In two days, I will no longer be me,” he cautioned her.

  “Who will you be then?” she asked, her voice a whisper of sound.

  He smiled and it came nowhere near his eyes. “I will be the monster you have always feared.”

  She raised a hand to her throat. “What can be done?”

  “I do not know. If I send you away - I will come and find you. Down here, no one can keep you safe.” He paused, his eyes moving from hers. “I might have to imprison myself in Tartarus.”

  “No!” she exclaimed, this time giving into the impulse to grasp his hand tightly in hers. “You cannot do that. You would be tortured, think of all the evil men you have sent to spend eternity there. If you lock yourself in with them it is as good as asking for them to destroy you! There has to be another way.”

  “I do not know if there is,” he said. “Tartarus seems appropriate. It is where the monsters go, after all, and if it can hold my father, it can hold me.” He removed his hand from hers and opened a drawer from the table near his bed, pulling out an object wrapped in a black silk cloth. He pulled back the thin material to reveal a jewel encrusted dagger, the light of the fire reflecting off its steely, ebony surface as he lifted it towards her.

  “This is for you,” he said with intent.

  She instantly recoiled at it, the thought of touching that cool, deadly blade causing her stomach to twist. “I do not want that,” she said, trying to scoot away from him.

  He grasped her hand in his and easily pried her fingers open, forcing the hilt of the cold steel into her hands. The dagger was entwined between their fingers, the iridescent blue stones sparkled against the black blade as she felt a hot burn begin to scorch her fingertips through the sheath; Hades let go of her quickly.

  “A fierce soul carved this dagger from the rock in the Acheron and dipped the blade in its waters. Its cut is painful enough to stop even the most powerful Gods in their tracks. This will not kill me, only maim me. One slash will give you a good head start. This is yours.”

  Green eyes rose to black. “You want me to use this on you?” Her voice was tight and almost unrecognizable to her own ears.

  “I want you to protect yourself,” he demanded.

  “And you think that I would have no issue to hurt you?” she asked pointedly.

  An emotion flickered in his eyes but was gone before she could assess it. “I think you will do what you must to survive,” he replied.

  Persephone held the dagger loosely in her hand, feeling the coldness of the steel on her palm. She closed her eyes against his words, wondering if he really believed her to be that selfish and why his words hurt her so much.

  “I am tired,” she whispered.

  "You should sleep," his deep voice said.

  “Alone?” she asked.

  “I think that is best.”

  She opened her eyes. “I do not want to be alone tonight.”

  “I will watch over you, nothing will harm you tonight. Sleep, Persephone.”

  She watched him walk away from her as he went back to the fire, sitting in one of the shadowed chairs. The darkness swallowed him and she felt the gap widen between them as he disappeared from her view. Tears began to fill her eyes and she could not stop them as they trickled down her face. How had they become so close only to have such a cold distance between them again? He seemed revolted by her now, ever since the Fates had warned him against her. Tell him the truth, her mind whispered, tell him. She longed to set the words free from her lips, but too long had they been held prisoner in her heart, and her mouth was kept frozen agai
nst the truth. She brushed her face against the pillow, wiping away the traces of moisture on her face and she closed her eyes, willing herself to sleep, wondering why it felt like her soul was breaking. As she felt herself begin to drift, she reached for him in the shadows.

  “Do not go to Tartarus,” she pleaded into the darkness.

  Hades stood over her, watching the gentle fall and rise of her chest. Her lashes were dark crescents on her cheeks and she was so beautiful he felt the pain of it in his chest. His love burned for her, as it had always burned for her, long before the cursed arrow had pierced his chest.

  He moved to the daybed in front of the fire, opening his palm to reveal Persephone’s thread of life. The golden light flickered across his face as he studied it, running his fingers back and forth over the mark. “I am sorry, Persephone,” he whispered, “for daring to love you, for letting my darkness touch your light.” He clenched his fist around her thread lowering his head as his heart contracted. “What a vile world it is to have loved and have lost you twice.”

  Chapter 16 - Resentment

  ◆◆◆

  Persephone dreamed of the Meadows that night. She was running through the fields, the wind in her hair. She looked out over the lakes and saw storm clouds gathering ominously, turning the brilliant blue sky black, and hiding the moon as thunder rumbled across the ground. Rain poured down, turning into thin golden threads that wove a web around her arms and neck, imprisoning her in the raging squall. She heard a scream echo in the distance and quickly turned her head, but before she could move, the Fates appeared before her echoing, “The man from the woods, he is coming. The King will go mad.”

  She turned around, revolted by their sunken faces, and she realized she was in a cave. The darkness made it difficult to see, but she knew that he was there and she began to run, searching, searching, knowing that someone important was near. The one who called to her soul, the one who completed her. He was hunched over in pain, clutching the gaping wound in his chest, and she could see the beat of his crimson heart as he gasped for air, blood dripping from his mouth. His eyes turned towards her and they gleamed red in the darkness. He growled, as mist began to shroud him from her view,

  "Little girl. You have a scar on your soul. I see you." She reached towards him, but the wind had begun to carry her away as she screamed his name, screamed the truth at the red eyes in the mist.

  She jerked awake and jumped from the bed, her heart beating wildly in her chest. The flames had reduced to coals in the hearth, and she looked for Hades in the darkness.

  “Nightmares?” a low voice asked. Hades was standing at the foot of the bed watching her.

  She put her hand to her head, “They are getting worse."

  “They tend to do that down here. Come,” he reached his hand towards her, “I wish to talk to you.” She immediately placed her hand into his, smiling up at him as he led her to the dimming fire. He indicated the chair, then took a seat beside her, pulling the signet ring off his finger. Grasping her hand again he placed it onto her finger. “This ring will give you access to all the realms of the Underworld. Today, you will deal with the punishments of the men who will be sent to Tartarus.” She looked down at the ring, with shock and he gently turned her face towards him. “Listen to me, Persephone, this is important. You must remove the ring when you leave the throne room. It is not permitted past the gates of the Underworld.”

  “Why are you giving this to me?” she asked, her voice trembling, as she began to slide the ring from her finger. “I do not want this, I do not want to sentence men to Tartarus. Where are you going?”

  He steadied her and forced it back onto her slim finger, stilling her small hands in his own. “You are ready, Persephone, you must be. The time is coming when I may no longer be able to care for this Kingdom or care for you. What is happening is beyond me. Someone must protect the dead. As my wife, as my Queen, this falls to you. My riches, my power, my kingdom. Everything I have will be yours. Do not turn your back on them, Persephone.”

  “But surely there is someone who is better suited than I? I cannot do this Hades. I have done little more than grow flowers my whole life. I am worthless--”

  His hands tightened over hers. “Do not say such words,” he answered harshly. “You are pure and strong and worth everything. I would trust no one as I would trust you with this Kingdom.”

  “But Charon or even your brothers…?”

  “There is no one else. No one else I trust to take care of my people.”

  “I cannot rule this land, Hades,” she cried frantically, “I cannot. I do not want this responsibility!”

  “Want it or not, the burden will fall on your shoulders. There is no one else, Persephone, there is...only you.” He moved his hand along her finger holding the very tip of it between his. “You are sweet and you are kind and though you may not realize it yet, you are strong.”

  She pulled her hand away from his, the weight of the ring feeling like an unwanted burden. He was wrong, her mind cried out, this illness must have clouded his judgment.

  “I am not strong,” she said, her voice rising with hysteria. “I am the weakest of the Gods on Olympus. I could never be as powerful as Athena, or Poseidon, or...or you. I..I am anything but strong. I am a coward! You subject this world to the judgement of a coward!”

  Placing a hand on her shoulder he gave a gentle nudge. “You knew the name of Kynthía. And you knew other things about her beyond her name, did you not? Why do you think that is? Already you have begun to be able to touch souls, to probe their depths. Whether you know it or not, whether you accept it or not, you are already the Queen of the Underworld. Your sorrow, your resilience, your compassion for even the most vile… these make you stronger than you know. You are not afraid to feel, Persephone, and that makes you braver than the hardiest of soldiers.” He paused, staring into space, and he blinked suddenly looking into her eyes. “And your ability, to...to let go when the time comes. These are the traits that make you strong. I would not want a cyclops or a war God sitting on my throne. I want you. The little goddess who cares for her little creatures. The one who weeps over the loss of every soul, however small or inconsequential to the rest of the world. Zeus will take over this kingdom the second an opportunity arises. If that happens, he will have unfathomable power over not just the living, but the dead. I cannot allow that. You cannot allow that. He will come down here demanding sacrifices and unending praise - never feeling the need to show his face while expecting blind obedience from his subjects who worship at the feet of their invisible cruel God. He will treat my subjects as he treats his own - disposable. But, they will hurt eternally at his hand and they will never have the release of death. I love my people. I do not want them to suffer below as they have above. Be a formidable queen - for me.”

  He wore high collared robes but she could see the tiny dark veins crawling further up his neck, rising like deadly serpents against his pale skin.

  “Hades,” she whispered, reaching towards him. “How can I help you?”

  He was just beyond her reach and he gave her a smile, so sweet it made her heart ache. Was this the smile he had before he had been tormented by his father, forced to kill his mother? Was this the man hidden behind the cold facade?

  “You cannot help me, Persephone, I am far beyond that now,” he answered. “It is the ending I have always been destined for. You hold no blame in this.”

  She shook her head, stepping closer to him, panic racing through her veins at his meek acceptance of … what? Not death, but something far worse. He would be locked in eternal madness, his beautiful mind untouchable, where she could never reach him. He deserved so much more from this life than he had received, so much more than she had been willing to give him. If only she had not misplaced her trust, if only she had not allowed herself to be shattered. She grasped his arm in her frantic grip, but he turned her gently towards the dressing room.

  “You must change, my Queen, your subjects await you. The time
for resolution is past. This game is played out.”

  She moved behind a dressing screen and began changing into a gown, her entire body trembling. Her hands shook as she tried to reach for the back of her dress, but she felt his hands there and he was fastening the clasps she could not reach. Always there when she needed him.

  “Where are you going?” she asked again, fear making her voice low.

  “I will prepare for tomorrow, prepare for the end -- so I do as little harm as possible to this realm -- and to you.” His strong hands pushed down on her shoulders and he leaned towards her. “You can do this. You are stronger than you realize.”

  She turned to face him and she could not help the sheen of tears in her eyes. “Your wound…it looks very bad. Is there nothing we can do?”

  He placed her hand over his heart and said with a weak laugh, “You could try loving me. That might help.”

  She could feel the rhythm of the heartbeat beneath her palm and it felt slow and sluggish, and fear prickled in her own heart, causing it to accelerate in her chest. It felt like the heartbeat of a dying man. As his shadowed eyes watched her, she saw the fragility that lurked in their depths.

  Her mind rejected the knowledge of his weakness, but the reality made her knees tremble beneath her heavy gown. “I am sorry, Hades,” she whispered. “I am so sorry.”

  “No,” he said fiercely, fire reappearing in the blackness of his gaze. “Never, never be sorry, Persephone. Never let guilt control you, for only the most despicable of men would use that to sway a heart. For those moments… for some of those brief moments, I knew what I wanted in life. I knew everything I’ve ever wanted could be found in you. All that I could ever ask for is reflected in everything you are. I will never be sorry. I hope that I will remember, somewhere in my mind, that even for the briefest second in time, you were mine and I was yours. I can ask for nothing more; I have received much more than I ever expected to find.”