Hades and Persephone Ch. 01

Jessica, several inches shorter than Seph's 5'9" frame, shrugged, appearing smaller than usual. "Probably nothing. I've tried Tinder, Adult Friend Finder, and Plenty of Fish. Tinder guy never showed last night. Adult Friend Finder dude was fun and a great fuck. But nothing else. No conversation. No anything. And the Plenty of Fish guy picked me up here, condemned me for selling wine, and, um, then he saw Dion making out with two of his girlfriends and...that ruined the rest of the evening."

"And you want beh behs," Seph softly teased.

With a sad smile, Jess echoed, "And I want babies."

"I do, too," Seph murmured, picturing in her mind a child of her own. Of course, that child would probably be immortal and would probably never happen, if her mother had anything to say about it.

"Persephone," her mother's voice rang out.

Jess and Persephone shared an eye roll. "Think of the devil," Seph chuckled.

Her mother came barreling up to them in an outfit that resembled a frontier woman's dress, if they had developed tie dye in the 1800s Plains region.

"Have you talked to Mr. Seward yet today?" Demeter's long wavy hair was in a disarrayed tangle down her back.

Seph nodded, checking and realizing that yes, her mom again forgot to wear an earthly undergarment. Blushing furiously she hissed to her mother, "Mom! You forgot to wear a bra again!"

Demeter, as usual, did not appear to be chagrined. "Honestly, Persephone, you worry too much about things that don't matter."

"Please, Mom, customers are starting to arrive!" If she had had a less bounteous bosom, Demeter would not have had to wear a bra. But one of the attributes that mother and daughter had in common were their busty bustlines.

Seph glanced down at her own curves that she artfully hid behind the loose spring-green dress. Sure, she would love to show off her body, but her mother hypocritically had raised her to dress modestly. While centuries old, Persephone resembled a fresh-faced 24-year-old, but she dressed like a 60-year-old matron by contrast. And while Demeter's dictates during her youth had helped form her fashion choices, her mother's behavior with others had cemented it.

How is a prudish virgin goddess supposed to ever have children, anyway? Persephone considered. She had seen more than she wanted to of her mother's sexual escapades, even with the famed goddess of love Aphrodite herself. And she wanted none of it, that chaotic, free-wheeling, fuck-the-one-who-is-there existence. She wanted, as she had suggested of Jessica, beh behs. And a mate and husband with whom to share her life.

"Oh, alright, child," her mother clucked her tongue but headed straight to her stall to acquiesce to Persephone's embarrassed request. With a wave and a laugh, Jessica retreated to Dion's stall, prepared to start the work day.

Persephone mentally replayed her upcoming schedule for work as she started to sweep in front of the stall. Humming softly a tune that often ran through her mind but of which she did not know the origin, she swayed softly to the music as she swept.

In her mind, she listed the flowers needed for the upcoming Sanderson-Jameston wedding. Lilies, roses, baby's breath. A bridal bouquet, bridesmaids' bouquets, boutonnieres, corsages for the mothers of the bride and the groom, pale pink rose petals for the flower girl, and a floralscape for the cake and the cake table. This was all ready to be delivered by Hermes-he owed her one after his attempted botched seduction-this afternoon.

The vase of roses for Mr. Seward's wife on their thirtieth anniversary waited for him to arrive.

As she swayed, a petal or two fell from her violet-threaded circlet nestled in her blonde curls atop her head and floated to the ground; she swept those up, as well.

Seph was just about to return the broom to its spot when the clack of nails on the hardwood floor made her glance up.

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The newly minted Hades Doukas nodded distractedly to Athena and his nephew, deep in conversation outside of Hephaestus's stall. He hoped it had to do with the blacksmithing business, but from their glances in his direction that they quickly averted, he surmised that it had to do with him and his mission.

Letting out a silent sigh, he mused that he knew it would not be as easy as Hermes presented to him. Or he should have known, rather.

Cerberus's yanking on his leash caused him to stop short. He scowled down at his mastiff, only to realize that the hound who obeyed only he had slipped loose of his collar and was scampering away. "Cerb-" he got out as he glanced up before his voice stopped in his throat as the sight captured his attention.

A ray of sunshine in his cold, dark world. Suddenly, he heard the notes of Orpheus on the air and realized, improbably, that they came from the literal goddess before him. Cerberus approached the gorgeous creature as if he were a wriggly puppy.

She responded in kind, cooing over his monstrous hellhound with the soft, dulcet tones that matched the honey gold of her hair and had only, moments ago, hummed one of Orpheus's most beautiful compositions. Was this the girl-woman for whom he had come to plead with Demeter to release back to Olympus?

A clearly musical laugh. No artifice, no modern makeup staining her cheeks, eyes, and lips. An innocent gaze just waiting to be transfixed with lust and passion.

He had seen goddesses and nymphs before. In theory, Aphrodite was objectively more beautiful than she, but Persephone captivated him instantly. And he could not have her. His job was to return her to her birthplace so that she could find a more suitable mate.

Hades, who had only once before been struck with the hammer of lust, had fallen. Hard. For the embodiment of spring and rebirth to contrast with his embodiment of death.

And he knew with every fiber of his being that any dalliance with Persephone would have the same disastrous results as his relationship with the nymph Calypso.

Calypso had recently found her bed empty of Odysseus when she decided to tempt the incorruptible, namely Hades himself. Much like his brother Zeus, Calypso had a voracious sexual appetite, but of the vanilla variety. When Hades brought out the literal whips and chains, she retreated to her home isle of Ogygia, leaving Hades to lick emotional wounds.

As a result, he shut down emotionally. No woman would get under his metaphorical skin again. No romantic entanglements. And those directives served him well...until now.

"Hey!" her laughing voice called to him, a siren's song. "Is this your dog? He's adorable!" The goddess of vegetation and flowers was actually petting his hound who was literally spawned in hell, and the monster was allowing it. More than allowing it, Cerberus was licking her face. For once, the action was one of affection rather than a desire to bite and eat his prey.

He resolutely ignored how her breaths caused her full, luscious breasts to rise and fall. "Adorable is a description I have rarely heard attributed to him, make that never, but yes. He is my-er, dog. Cerberus, get down and leave her alone!" Hades snapped his fingers of the hand that was not pathetically still holding the leash and the collar that should be around his recalcitrant dog's neck.

Walking toward her, he snapped his fingers again. This time, the demonic hound obeyed, but glared at his master through slitted eyes. "Good boy," he stated, as that seemed to be the response Persephone expected. She rewarded him with a beatific smile.

"My name is...um...Seph...Persephone...well, my friends call me Seph...and your dog seems to be my new friend, so you can...um...call me Seph, too. If you would like," she finished hastily. Her blue eyes seemed unable to meet his slate gray ones. At least he hoped they were slate gray and not the smoldering red to match the glowing embers in a barely banked fire; this happened when his anger rose, anger that Cerberus had awakened.

"I'm-" Hades began, only to be interrupted by Demeter herself.

"Hades! What are you doing here?" In contrast with the robes she wore when last he saw her, the day she absconded from Olympus, she was wearing...a dress, he guessed, although that would be a polite way to refer to something so ugly.

Before he could explain, Demeter's daughter turned to him. "Hades? THE Hades? The king of the Underworld? Your dog Cerberus? That Cerberus who guards hell from all who dare to enter-or to leave? THAT Cerberus?"

Well, that went from odd to fucked up really fast, Hades thought.

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Let me know what you think in the comments. I will be working on Chapter 2 shortly.