Work Text:
Persephone:
I stand on the bank of the Styx, gazing off into the red mist. I think Charon is a little late this morning. I glance at the report I brought with me to pass the time. Some of the older court records are fascinating, and I’m learning so much! I settle down on the river bank to read while I wait for the day's first consignment of shades.
After a few minutes, the rhythm of the river’s sounds changes slightly, so I look up to see what’s going on. The boat is just appearing out of the mist, a short distance from shore. “Good morning, Charon!” I call.
“Good morning, my lady,” replies Charon.
I have no idea why he always calls me that. I’m giving up on getting him to use my name. “How are you today? Your boat looks empty!”
Charon pulls the boat into dock, and turns his perpetually sad gaze upon me. “I’m afraid it’s not quite, my lady,” he answers, indicating two tiny forms huddled in the stern.
Oh. Oh no! I scramble into the boat, catching my peplos on the edge. Charon extends a hand to help me over. The two figures try to shrink themselves even smaller.
I approach the new shades, but then I realize that they’re very frightened. Instead, I sink to my knees, dropping the papers. Tears sting my eyes. The poor things, they’re so young! Slowly I extend my hands, to show that I hold no threat. “Hello, little ones. I’m here to help you.” I have to work to keep my voice steady.
One of the little shades peers suspiciously at me, but the other is hiding its face completely. I concentrate on the fiercer one. “I know you’re scared. It’s okay. Nothing will hurt you here.” What can I possibly say to them? What can I give them to make them feel better? “My name’s Persephone. Would you like to tell me your name?”
Suddenly the hiding child pushes away from the other and faces me. “Are we dead?” the little one demands.
I have to swallow the lump in my throat. “Yes. I’m afraid so.” I turn to Charon. “Do you know how it happened?”
“It was drowning, my lady,” replies the boatman.
“Oh.” I turn back to the little shades. “I’ll bet you’ll feel better if we get away from the river.” I extend my hands again. “Would you like to come with me?”
“Are you a goddess?” asks the suspicious one.
“Yes. I’m the Goddess of Spring,” I reply. The little shades exchange a look, then seem to reach a decision.
“Okay. We’ll go with you.”
I climb out first, then lift the girls from Charon’s hands, setting them on the dock. I take each by the hand. “Come on, maybe I can find some toys for you.” I know toys won’t really help, but I have to do something .
I’m not sure what I can do. I’ve been working in the Underworld for several weeks, and I’m starting to feel more confident in my job, but this is a completely new situation. The shades I’ve encountered up until now have been adults: to some extent, they were prepared for death, and unsurprised by the afterlife. Many were frightened, but never terrified. I feel sympathy for them, and sadness for their deaths, but at least all of them had a chance to live a real life. These poor children did not.
“What’s your name?” I ask the taller child, the suspicious one.
“I’m Nemia. I’m eight. This is my cousin Laeris. She’s seven. What did you say your name was?”
“She said it’s Persephone, Nemia! You should pay attention when a goddess speaks to you,” cries the smaller one, all indignant.
“That’s okay,” I laugh. “I don’t mind.”
Hades:
“Boss! You are not gonna believe this. Do you know what that kid is doing now?”
I suppress a sigh. Naturally, Thanatos would choose a day like today to start with his bitching and moaning. “No, strangely enough, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I reply. “Can it wait? I’m running late for court.”
“That’s the point! She’s made a big mess in the courtroom and she’s actually playing with some shades.”
“I take it you are speaking of Persephone?”
“Yeah, of course. She is not taking this job seriously at all! It makes all of us look bad.”
“Thank you, Thanatos. Your complaint has been noted. I will take care of this.” Shaking my head, I hurry on my way. I’m willing to bet he’s blowing something tiny completely out of proportion. I’ve never seen anyone work as hard as Persephone does.
Feeling irritated on Persephone’s behalf and already contemplating how to punish Thanatos for being such a damned weasel , I reach the courtroom antechambers. Just outside the courtroom itself, I pass a group of employees gossiping in a small group, hiding their whispers behind their hands. I glare at them in disapproval and push open the courtroom door, ready to get down to business.
I stop in my tracks, shocked. My austere, dignified, black-marble courtroom is now a riotous fantasia of colors. There are patches of flowers on the floor, vines hanging from the ceiling, bright shrubs growing under the benches. The big central table, intended for holding scrolls and other supporting materials, is heaped with more flowers that flow to the ground, creating a tent effect.
My mouth hangs open. I’m torn between indignation at the brazen impertinence of turning my courtroom into this floral absurdity and astonished reverence for its unexpected beauty. The scandalized buzz of the employees behind me finally draws my attention and I shut the door sharply in their faces. Let them wait.
In the resulting quiet, I soften, letting myself enjoy the exquisite vision of the transformed courtroom. Why did she do this? Is this her way of giving me a gift? I shake my head, wishing that she chose something more discreet. Still… she must really like me if she did this for me. I smile, wondering where she is.
I walk slowly into the room, noticing lovely details I previously overlooked. As I approach the table, I hear soft voices. Persephone, talking low; and someone else, with a high, piping voice. Not a voice I recognize. That’s weird. “Persephone?” I call.
“Under here!” she replies immediately. The flower-curtains draping the table part and Persephone looks out at me. She looks sad and strained, like she’s exercising rigid control over her emotions. She beckons and withdraws back into the flower cave.
At this point more curious than anything else, I abandon my dignity and crouch down to crawl under the table. The whole area is carpeted, draped, and hung with flowers. It’s like entering a kaleidoscope. Persephone pats the ground next to her, suggesting I sit, and then directs my attention farther in. Two little shades, young girls, sit there. They wear elaborate flower crowns and necklaces over the usual gray shades' clothing. Their hands are full of more flowers, that somehow Persephone shaped into… dolls, I guess?
“These are Nemia and Laeris. They arrived on the boat this morning. Girls, this is--my friend.” I catch Persephone’s glance, nodding understanding why she didn’t introduce me by name.
“Hello, Nemia and Laeris. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I see Persephone has been taking good care of you.” Years of experience as an uncle have given me some idea of how to talk to children. These ones, however, seem very suspicious of me. I try to hunch down and look a little smaller.
“He’s blue ,” mutters the bigger one.
“Yes,” says Persephone firmly. “People can be all sorts of colors.” She holds out her hands to the girls, and spills a pile of bright flowers for them. “Here, why don’t you make these into some clothes for your dolls? I’ll be right back.”
Persephone ushers me out and we retreat to the side of the room. “I’m really sorry,” she whispers. “I’ve made a big mess and disrupted everything. I’ll clean it up. I know I’m being ridiculous.” The tears she was holding back spill over now. “Ch-ch-children die too and I knew that and I’m being stupid.” She covers her face with her hands and starts to turn away from me.
I catch her shoulders gently. “It isn’t stupid at all. This is what you were talking about--having empathy for the mortals, right? It’s not stupid, and it’s not ridiculous.” I can feel her starting to quiver with silent sobs. Slowly, carefully, I wrap my arms around her and pull her into my chest. I wait, to be sure she doesn’t want to pull away, and then squeeze gently.
Gradually Persephone’s shuddering stops and she takes a few deep breaths. “Thank you,” she murmurs.
“It’s okay. This is the first time you’ve encountered child shades, isn’t it?” I’m stroking her hair very softly. I can’t help it.
“Yes. Why have I never seen any before? Do they become workers too?”
She looks up at me and moves back a bit. Reluctantly, I release her. “No, they don’t. The children… well, after a few days or weeks, they just fade away. I don’t know why.”
“But--that’s awful. That’s even worse! They hardly get a chance to live and they don’t even get an afterlife? That’s wrong!”
I nod. “It’s a terrible thing, I agree. I wish I knew why it happens.”
Persephone pauses, seeming to struggle with a mixture of anger and sadness. In the silence, we can hear the children’s voices.
“You idiot, can’t you see he’s a god ? You were so rude!”
“How is it rude? He is blue!”
Something in the child’s annoyed tone strikes me as ludicrously funny. I snort, and choke down a full laugh, meeting Persephone’s eyes. She is momentarily shocked, but then the humor gets to her, too. We lean on each other in a half hug, trying to contain our giggles.
“We’re terrible. It’s not funny at all, why are we laughing?” she gasps between chortles.
I shake my head, shrugging. “Better than crying, I guess.”
Persephone
We sit together on a courtroom bench, watching the children play tag. I cleared up the flowers. I’m pleased that my powers seem to be more in control, but I’m feeling miserable about the child shades.
“What if--” I begin. “No, that wouldn’t work.”
“It’s brainstorming. No wrong suggestions, remember?”
“I was thinking that maybe they fade away because they don’t have many memories to anchor them, so what if we gave them some? Nice ones, I mean. But I don’t see how.”
“Hm. Yeah, I don’t either.”
A few minutes pass. The tag game evolves to hopping and skipping. Hades speaks, “I wonder if they’d be happier just hanging out in the Mortal Realm. As, I don’t know what they’d be. Unattached spirits? But at least things would be familiar for them. Maybe they wouldn’t fade so fast.”
Something about this idea sparks another idea in my mind, but I can’t quite get hold of it. I push on it, trying to tease it out. “Wouldn’t other gods get mad at you? For letting unattached spirits wander around?”
He snorts and rolls his eyes. “Probably.”
We think in silence for a while. “But what if they weren’t unattached?”I feel a tingle of excitement. I’m on the right track, I know it.
“So... put them in, what? Rocks? Household objects?” His voice sounds skeptical.
“No!” I have it! I see how it could work. “Put them in babies!”
“What! That’s not--wait--” Hades pauses, looking shocked.
“Take their souls and re-use them. Let them be reborn.” I smile triumphantly. I feel the rightness of it. It could work. It will work!
“If they drink from the Lethe, they won’t remember their old lives. And it’ll have to be done quickly, before they fade. I guess it might work,” muses Hades.
“It will. I’m sure of it.” I beam at him.
“I’m glad you’re confident. You’d better get to work on the proposal, then.” He grins back at me.
“I’m sorry, what? You want me to do this?” I feel a cold rush of horror. Oh, well done. I really talked myself into a mess this time. I don’t have the first idea how to do this!
“You’re the one who saw the problem and knew it needed solving. And it’s your idea.” He makes his voice lower and smoother. “And besides that: what else is Spring, but rebirth?”
***
I sit in my office watching the little shades playing with their dolls. What have I gotten myself into? I sigh. Well, I guess I’d better figure out what a proposal looks like.
“Knock knock!” cries a cheery voice, interrupting my thoughts. Hermes stands in the doorway. “Hey, Perse,” he says. “Boss-man sent this to you.” He tosses an envelope onto my desk and disappears.
I open it, and find a folded note, and a rock with a hole in it. I smile.
I thought you might like to have your good luck charm back. Also it might be useful to contact my niece Eileithyia, she’s the goddess of childbirth. I’ll text you her number. You can do this. I believe in you.
I take a deep breath. I can do this. I have to. Look at Nemia and Laeris--they need me. I open my notebook and start writing a to-do list. Halfway down the page, I pause, smiling. There are those one or two other ideas I might put in.
Hades
I yawn deeply, setting down my coffee mug on my desk. I had yet another terrible night’s sleep. I wonder how Persephone is getting along with her proposal. She was still hard at work last night when I left, and acknowledged my good-night with barely a wave.
There is a hefty stack in my in-tray. I suppose I’d better deal with that first. The top item is a slim black folder. I open it, and I’m surprised to find Persephone’s stone resting on the inside cover. I grin to myself, and read the title.
Underworld Policy Proposal: Reward and Rebirth
Reward? Where does reward come into it? I flip through the pages, scanning the headings. Executive Summary. Detailed Proposal. Research Results. Proof of Concept: Successful Reinsertion of Subjects Nemia and Laeris. Projected Productivity Impact. Implementation. Assessment.
It all looks neat and concise. There are three appendices, each of them longer than the main document. I take a sip of coffee, and settle down to read.