Psyche

Chapter 34

Persephone sat at her golden vanity, staring at herself in the mirror as she brushed her long, black hair.  Her beauty, dark hair and hair eyes, and pale skin, suited her role as the Queen of the Underworld although there was a time that she hated the idea of serving in that role. She had been so foolish when she was young. She smiled ever so slightly and sang softly to herself. Hades had been away for some days visiting Zeus on Olympus, and the brothers always had much to discuss.

She wished very much that Hades would limit his visits to Spring and Summer when she was with her mother and not in his company, but business was business.

Her keen ears picked up footsteps in the corridor - the footsteps were that of a god, she could tell, but it wasn't her beloved husband.

Perhaps, she thought, Hermes has a message for me from Hades. Or mother.

She ran to the gilded double doors in her chambers and threw them open wide.

It was not Hermes standing there, but Aphrodite herself.

"Good Evening, Persephone," she said, "I see you haven't redecorated since the last time I was here. Really, you're not obligated to keep the doom and gloom decor. Hades had that long before you made him so ridiculously happy."

Remembering when she was a mere nymph, Persephone nearly knelt before the goddess. Then, she reminded herself that she was Queen of the Underworld, and as long as they stood in Hades, her position was considerably higher than Aphrodite's. She put her shoulders back and folded her arms.

"I assume you are not visiting the underworld for your health, Aphrodite."

The goddess of love grinned at her, and Persephone knew she wasn't going to like what the goddess was about to say.

"Remember the last time I saw you? Remember how sad you were?"

Persephone remembered. She had been utterly desponded after learning that she would be forced to be Hades's wife for nine months out of the year, thanks to her foolish, absent-minded consumption of nine pomegranate seeds. Nine months of being a prisoner seemed a very harsh punishment for such simple foolishness, especially since her jailer would be none other than Hades.

She called out to Aphrodite for help.

The Goddess had appeared in a blinding flash of light. Even as an immortal herself and the daughter of Demeter, Persephone had never seen such a display of raw power. She fell to her knees, prostrate before the goddess, half-fearful to even gaze upon her beauty.

"What do you want?" she asked.

Persephone whimpered and blubbered and wiped her eyes with her black robe.

"Come now," said Aphrodite, "You're not acting like a goddess or a queen. In fact, you're an embarrassment to both names. You summoned me for something, show some gumption and ask for whatever it is you want."

Persephone sniffled, squared her shoulders, and nodded. Aphrodite had been there when Zeus had declared her sentence.

"I want you to intervene on my behalf with Zeus. Tell him that I wish to leave my husband, and I don't wish to be a prisoner."

Aphrodite rolled her eyes.

"Are you mad, girl?" she replied, "I think you must be. Mad with grief. Mad with fear. Mad with something. I have no power over Zeus."

Persephone's lips started to quiver. "Is there nothing you can do?"

Aphrodite smiled, but it wasn't a warm smile. Persephone found it vaguely malicious, and she thought Aphrodite was quite amused with the question. Or worse, she was amused with the answer she was about to give.

"I can make it so you love, Hades, and he loves you. I'll call upon my son, Eros, to shoot you both with arrows. That will cause a spark that, with some work from you both, can turn into an eternal flame."

Persephone's eyes widened. The solution that Aphrodite offered frightened her. She could imagine loving the dark, frightening god who had snatched her from her meadow and forced her to be his wife.

"Oh don't be a ninny," said Aphrodite, "He's not that bad. He's handsome, although I tend to think he resembles a vampire more than a god most days, he's just pale. And he's tall with lovely dark hair and eyes. He's not cruel, and if he had your love, he might even smile now and again.

Persephone did not respond. She was frozen in shock.

"It's the only solution I can offer," whispered Aphrodite, kinder this time, "and it will make your time with him bearable. But it must be your choice."

Persephone swallowed and looked into Aphrodite's eyes. She nodded.

"Say it," said Aphrodite, "I need you to say it aloud."

"I wish to love him, and for him to love him."

Aphrodite looked up at the ceiling. Persephone looked up as well, to see Eros clinging to the ceiling like a spider and looking down at her. He reached for his already-loaded bow and shot it at her. 

This had been a transformative moment and one for which she was indebted to Aphrodite. She looked at the Goddess. "What can I do for you?" 

"I'd like some of your beauty cream," she replied. "It does such lovely things for your skin." 

Persephone found this to be a rather absurd request. Aphrodite needed no such thing. It was a special balm that helped Persephone stay beautiful even in the harsh climate of the underworld. Still, she took the box in which she kept jars of the stuff off her vanity and handed it to Aphrodite. 

"It's not for me," spat the Goddess, rolling her eyes at the insult. "I'm sending my daughter-in-law to get it." 

Persophone inhaled. She hadn't known that Eros was married, and she suddenly felt pity for the poor girl, whoever she was. Aphrodite was the kind of woman who would send her son's wife to the underworld. 

"I'll be waiting," replied Persephone. 

"Good," said Aphrodite before disappearing in a flash of light. 

Persophone shook her head and ran her hand along with the ornate carving of the box. She felt a pang for the unknown woman who was about to embark on a very difficult journey.