Chapter Text
The golden columns of Olympus finally rose into view ahead. Usually, the place practically blinded you from a mile away. Today, even the gold looked dull.
On the stairs to the golden gates, they could hear the gods shouting over each other.
Hades inhaled as he swept through the gates of Olympus and threw his arms wide.
“Good news! Famine’s over—”
Sort of.
“—nobody has to overthrow anybody, and…” He stepped aside with a flourish, proudly presenting Persephone. “I brought back your missing goddess!”
Nobody smiled. Tough crowd.
“Persephone!” a voice called. Demeter burst from the crowd, shoving gods aside. She embraced Persephone so hard she was almost snapped in half. “Mom…”
Demeter let go, holding Persephone’s shoulders firmly. Her eyes raced over her, searching for the faintest sign of injury. “I was so worried,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. “Did he hurt you?”
"No." Persephone hesitated. "I mean..." Her eyes drifted toward Hades. "...Yes." She looked back at her mother. "It's... a long story."
Demeter’s expression changed. The relief drained from her eyes.
Before Hades could react, Demeter whirled on him and grabbed him by the collar. "You!" Her voice was low and pulsing with anger.
She shoved him back until he stumbled into a pillar. Hades threw both hands into the air. “I brought her back, didn’t I?”
Demeter got right in his face, speaking through clenched teeth. “What did you do to her?”
“She’s fine. Unharmed and–” Demeter’s grip tightened. He made an undignified choking noise.
A low crackle rolled through Olympus. Hades glanced sideways. Zeus had a thunderbolt aimed directly at him.
Ah. This was going so well.
Demeter gripped his chiton even tighter, her voice shaking with fury. "You caused all this, didn’t you?" Her eyes flicked toward Persephone. "And somehow..." She swallowed. "...you dragged my daughter into it."
She turned to Persephone. “Whatever he told you–”
“Mom! Please.” Persephone stepped forward. “Give me a chance to explain. To all of you.”
Every eye on Olympus turned to Persephone. She stood firm.
“What happened was not entirely Hades’ fault…”
That earned a few surprised looks.
“He lied to me.” Persephone continued. No gasps. That was exactly what everyone expected.
“He wanted to use my anger against all of you for his own gain.”
Demeter gave a single, bitter nod.
“But he did not create that anger.”
Demeter's expression faltered. Somewhere behind her, the crackle of Zeus's thunderbolt finally died.
There were a dozen things Hades could have added to that. Technically, she’d made every decision herself. Technically, he’d never forced her to do anything. Technically—
Yeah. Maybe now wasn’t the time for technicalities.
"People praised everything that looked like my mom. Everything beautiful, by your standards." Her fingers brushed the dark flowers winding around her arm. "Whenever something darker appeared..." She looked down. "...it was corrected. Hidden. Or ignored."
Dark flowers crept up the marble columns. Several gods shifted uneasily. Hades' mouth twitched.
"With Hades... I stopped believing I was something that needed to be fixed."
Her fingers brushed the flowers around her arm.
"Mortals suffered because of my choices. You were blamed for them. I should've come to you instead of hiding." She looked at the flowers around her arm. Then at her mother. "But I don't hate who I am."
Demeter flinched. Barely, but Hades caught it.
“There’s still so much I can learn from you. About the fields. The harvests. All of it.” She smiled faintly. “I belong on the surface.” Her eyes found Hades. “But I belong in the Underworld, too. I’ve made a home there.” A beat passed. “…With him.”
Hades' flames gave a small, uneven flicker. No one spoke.
Persephone stepped toward her mother. “Mom…” She wrapped her arms around her. For a heartbeat, Demeter didn’t move. Then her arms slowly closed around her daughter.
“I love you,” Demeter whispered.
“I’ll always come back.” Persephone held her a little tighter.
Demeter’s eyes snapped back to Hades, then to her daughter.
“After everything he’s done, you still intend to see him?” The question came out in disbelief, as though the answer should have been obvious.
Persephone’s lips parted, but no answer came.
Hades went perfectly still.
“Yes,” Persephone finally said.
For once in his eternal existence, Hades had absolutely nothing to say.
Persephone wasn’t joking. She actually wanted him around. The possibility had never occurred to him. Why would it? He’d spent eternity wanting plenty of things. He’d had plans. Schemes. Grudges. An entire Underworld to run. This had never made the list.
He knew what he wanted now. That part was easy. He wanted her back in the Underworld. Back in his office, dragging her chair around his desk. Back where he could find dark flowers growing in places dark flowers had absolutely no business growing.
But wanting something and arranging for it to happen were suddenly two very different things.
A murmur moved through the gathered gods.
Demeter stared at her daughter as though she’d spoken in a language she didn’t understand.
“You can’t possibly mean that.”
Persephone’s expression tightened. “I do.”
She glanced toward the edge of Olympus. Beyond the clouds, Greece was still buried beneath a layer of frost. Fields ruined. Harvests lost. Mortals suffering.
“But first I want to fix this.”
“Then we’ll fix it,” Demeter said.
Hades had helped make this mess. And until recently, he would’ve considered that an accomplishment. Olympus was in chaos, Greece was half-frozen, and his plan had come remarkably close to working.
Then Persephone had gone and developed a conscience about the whole thing.
Hades glanced at her.
Yeah. Fine.
He still didn’t give a damn about the harvests. Or the mortals. But Persephone did. And if he wanted her back in the Underworld, that made them his problem too.
“Need an extra guy?” he asked.
Persephone’s eyes found his. Her smile was small and cautious, but real. Not forgiveness exactly. It was too soon for that.
He’d worked with less.
Hades looked at her for another moment.
He smiled back. Okay. Don't screw it up.