by S.E. Diemer
But where was he? Over there were Poseidon and Athena, whispering behind their hands. I saw Artemis and Apollo break apart as Zeus moved between them, climbed several high steps and staggered into his towering throne, hefting his goblet of ambrosia aloft.
“Persephone.” I jumped, heart racing, and Hermes grinned down at me, his face a handbreadth from my own.
“You have a habit of startling me,” I whispered to him, but he shook his head, pressed a finger to his lips. My brow furrowed as he took my hand and led me out onto the floor of the great room, to linger again amidst the gods. I felt naked, misplaced, but Hermes stood behind me and elbowed me forward. I yielded and stumbled a step, two steps. Finally, my frustration rising, I turned to admonish him but paused mid-motion because—I had run into someone.
Life slowed, slowed, slowed. I muttered, “Excuse me,” looked up at the woman I did not recognize, had never before seen, my heart slack until it thundered in one gigantic leap against my bones.
Everything stopped.
Her eyes were black, every part of them, her skin pale, like milk. Her hair dropped to the small of her back, night-colored curls that shone, smooth and liquid, as she cocked her head, as she gazed down at me without a change of expression. She wasn’t beautiful—the lines of her jaw, her nose, were too proud, too sharp and straight. But she was mesmerizing, like a whirlpool of dark water, where secrets lurked.
I looked up at her, and I was lost in the black of her eyes, and I did not see her take my hand, but I felt her hold it, as if it were meant to be in the cage of her fingers, gently cradled.
“Hello,” she said, her voice softer than a whisper. I blinked once, twice, trying to shake the feeling I had heard her speak before—perhaps in a dream.
And then, “I am Hades,” she said.
My world fell away.
Hades…Hades, the lord of the underworld…was a woman.
“But, but…” I spluttered, and she watched me with catlike curiosity, head tilted to the sound of my voice as I attempted to regain my senses. “They call you the lord of the Underworld. I thought—”
“It is a slur,” she breathed. I had to lean forward to hear her words. Her face remained still, placid, as if she were wearing a mask.
I didn’t know what to say—that I was sheltered? Should I apologize that I hadn’t known? She still held my hand, fingers curled into my palm like a vine. “I’m sorry,” I managed. There was nothing else within me, and the moment stretched on into an eternity as my heart beat against the door of my chest.
I’d forgotten Hermes was there, and he cleared his throat now, stepping alongside us, staring down at our hands, together.
“Hades,” he murmured, chin inclined, smile twisting up and up. “It’s begun, now that you’ve met her.”
“What?” My head spun; everything was happening too fast. Her eyes had never once left mine, two dark stars pulling me in. My blood pounded fast and hot, and I didn’t understand what was happening, but my body did. No, she was not beautiful, but she didn’t need to be. I was drawn to her, bewitched by her, a plant angling up to drink in her sun. Still, still, she had not let go of my hand.
“Hermes, may I have a moment with her?” she asked, turning toward him. When her eyes moved away, I felt an emptiness, a hollow, a great, dark ache.
Hermes frowned, shook his head once, twice, and shimmered into nothingness.
She raised my hand, then, so slowly that I held my breath until her lips pressed against my skin, warmer than I’d imagined, and soft. Something within me shattered as she swallowed me up again with her dark eyes, said: “You are lovely, Persephone.”
I stared down at her bent head, spellbound.
“Thank you,” I whispered. She rose.
Where Zeus’s lips had been wet, rough, pushing hard enough against my hand to leave a bruise…she was the opposite—gentle. Yet I felt her everywhere. I shivered, closed my eyes. She did not let go of my hand but turned it over, tracing the line of my palm with her thumb.
“It has been a deep honor, meeting you, seeing you. You defy my imaginings.” A small smile played over her mouth as she shook her head, traced her fingers against the hollow of my hand. “I hope to see you again.”
She looked as if she might say more—she looked hopeful—but something changed, and her eyes flickered. She sighed, pressed her lips together, squeezed my hand. Hades turned and disappeared into the crowd of Olympians.
“No—” I put my hand over my heart, breathed in and out.
“In front of all the others.” Hermes was shimmering beside me, leaning close; he shook his head. “She’s either stupid or very brave.”
I felt as if I were waking from a very long sleep. I stared at the floor, wondering what was real, what was a dream. “I don’t understand. That…she was Hades?”
“In the death,” he snickered, and he held up his goblet of ambrosia to me, as if in a toast. “It has begun.”
Find The Dark Wife wherever you purchase your eBooks!
Other works by this author:
- Project Unicorn, Volume 1: 30 Short Stories Featuring Lesbian Heroines (co-written with her wife, author Jennifer Diemer) Part of Project Unicorn, a lesbian YA extravaganza, PU seeks to address the urgent need for queer characters in YA fiction by giving lesbian girls their own heroic stories. Find out more about Project Unicorn at https://www.MuseRising.com
- Love Devours: Tales of Monstrous Adoration A collection of new fables for queer women, extracted from the bones of the dark: ominous fairy tales, sinister myths, dystopias rife with nightmares. But in the midst of monsters, love still struggles to find the light.
About the Author
S.E. Diemer is a Persephone girl. She tells stories, makes jewelry and runs around after several animals in a lovely, purple-doored house in the country. She likes to think she is funny. When not up to her elbows in glue and words, she hula hoops and gardens, dresses up like a fairy and recites poetry when she thinks no one is looking. She loves her wife more than anything in the universe. You can find out about her new novels, take a peek at the jewelry she makes out of old fairy tales and generally see several sparkly and interesting things at her site, https://www.oceanid.org, or her blog, https://museisrising.wordpress.com
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