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It’s a slow process, for awhile, Eurydice thinks everything’s going to be okay. not good, not great. but she thinks it’s going to be okay. she has the memory of Orpheus’ embrace, she has the memory of his kisses, his lips on hers, and that’s all she needs. to get through every day, she just needs the memory of her fingertips brushing along his jaw and that keeps her going from morning to night. she thought that she’d have that fuel forever, she thought that she’d never lose that part of her.
it takes years, it takes many, many years but there comes a day where she doesn’t know what she remembers anymore. she wakes up and there’s something missing, and she can’t place it. there’s a gap, but she thinks it must be a dream she had had that has slipped her memory. in a way, it was. maybe just one of those half lidded, awake but not dreams where she goes the whole day trying to remember what she dreamt.
and maybe, this had been slowly happening for months before, but she didn’t notice until the largest gap was lost. she lost the bridge between down and up, between here and there.
she lost him.
when the train pulls in, she smiles. she knows this, knows the smell of the train, and the sound of the whistle. she probably knows that best. dropping her tools, she starts her way to the train station. she won’t get in trouble for this, Hades always leaves the fields the meet his wife at the train station. many of the workers take a break, talk amongst themselves. years ago, this would never happen and then one day, it changed. like a flip of a switch, she could suddenly breath down below. the sky felt just a little bit more open and the fields felt less dense. they could actually speak and look. a beautiful day it was, when she began work on the wall but was told to start taking it down. now, the wall is almost all gone and sunlight lazily drifts in. but they are still not able to cross it. they can’t.
Eurydice stands off to the side, watching Lady Persephone kiss her husband and waiting for her turn to greet the goddess. and finally, finally, finally, the woman turns to her and opens her arms. Eurydice flies into them, the goddess is strong, lifting her slightly off the ground in the tightness of the hug.
“it’s so good to see you, hon!” she says, muffled into Eurydice’s shoulder.
“you too.” Eurydice replies, her arms still tight around her. when she pulls back, Persephone holds her at an arm's length, inspecting her thoroughly.
“you’ve lost weight, have you been eating enough?” Eurydice laughs and nods. “are you sure? I’ll make sure to talk to Hades about-”
“I’m fine!” Eurydice says, her laugh bubbling through into her words. “it’s so good to see you, these last six months have been so dark. darker than usual, with you gone.”
“well, I’m here to make things bright again.” she brushes a piece of hair behind Eurydice’s ear. “let’s get you a drink.”
they begin their descent down from the train station before Persephone stops in her tracks. “wait, before I forget...”
she searches in her bag for a minute or two before pulling out an envelope with clean cursive written on the front.
“what’s this?” Eurydice asks, carefully taking it from her.
Persephone smile flickers off her face for a brief moment, like the glitching of a television, so quick, there then gone. “it’s from Orpheus.”
Eurydice turns the letter over in her hands once, observing the pale yellow of the envelope. and without even looking up, without any sort of dramatics or even an inkling of tone, she says:
“who?”
Persephone is right in her face before Eurydice can even register what’s going, her face between Persephone’s two hands. “Eurydice, baby, what did you just say?”
“um,” she leans back, unsure of what to make of the goddess’ desperate features and clinging hands. “I just- I don’t- this letter-”
“is from Orpheus, your poet, your boy, your husband.”
“I’m sorry... husband?” Eurydice tries to backtrack when she sees the devastation ripple across Persephone’s face. “no, no, I really am sorry if I upset you, I’m sorry.”
“no, no, it’s okay.” Persephone pulls the younger girl close, placing a hand on the back of her head and holding it there so that she doesn’t see the few tears slipping down her face. “don’t apologize, dear, it’s not your fault... isn’t your fault.”
she wipes away the few tears after she pulls back, ignoring Eurydice’s prying eyes. “I’ll take this.” she takes the letter from her. “and I think I promised my favorite girl a drink, didn’t I?”
“Seph-”
“c’mon,” she prompts with a wobbly smile. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
***
Persephone’s upset, Eurydice isn’t sure about what, but she can tell when the older woman is mad or upset or at an emotional edge because she’s distracting herself with drink. Eurydice, slowly drawing herself away from the woman, has her curiosity growing slowly in her chest.
what was in that letter?
she has to know. it was just sitting in the back of her mind when they first got to the bar, but after the first drink, the buzz turned into a roar. she has to know. and Orpheus, who the hell is Orpheus? that buzz is there, behind the roar of want, the curiosity and the... familiarity but not. she can’t decide if it’s actually there or it’s just her mind tricking her into thinking there are memories there. and better yet, where did Persephone get the letter? from Up Top?
all Eurydice has ever known is Hadestown.
and when Persephone is growing lazier and lazier, more and more lethargic, she carefully pulls the letter from her straw bag and slips away to sit in the hallway outside the bathroom at the bar. she sits with her legs crossed, carefully tearing open the worn envelope and pulling the letter out from inside.
dearest Eurydice,
I write this letter same letter once a year, the tenth letter that I have written since I last saw you. Persephone says she can’t take anything up from Hadestown and I know that... I wish I could see your face. I would I could hold you and it’d make me feel like I wasn’t so alone. my love, I send this letter with the intent and the hope that it reaches you and brings you some semblance of happy. Seph says you’re doing well, but she lies, sometimes, for my own good. I write this letter not for me, but so that you know that there is someone out there who will wait and love you until the sun dies out. this is not a love letter, well, I suppose it is, but it isn’t meant to tell you what you are supposed to feel, I just want you to know that I love you and I’ll continue to love you forever. It’s the last day of spring, so I know my gift will probably be ruined by the time she makes it down there but I enclosed a present for you in the envelope, press it, keep it, as a reminder of me. Eurydice, I’ll see you again one day and on that happy day, I’ll be able to tell you all this in person.
your love,
Orpheus
Eurydice fumbles for the envelope just barely after she’d finished the letter, and read the last word. her vision is blurred by... tears. she’s crying. when was the last time she did that? according to this letter, ten years. ten damn years since she felt anything and this is finally what brings her back from the dead. she still can’t remember anything but she feels the absence now, something- someone- was there and now he isn’t.
and inside the envelope, wilted and crumbling, is one single carnation, faded from red to this grayish maroon color. but it’s there, it’s petals falling and chipping, it’s there. the red, the bleak, the cold. it’s all there, but there’s missing pieces in between each glimpse of a memory and she can’t. connect. them.
damn this place.
“Eurydice-” Persephone’s voice, filled to the brim with worry, comes round the corner. “oh, love.”
she looks up, with the cold tears staining her cheeks.
“I don’t remember- I don’t remember him, I can’t remember him.” she holds out the letter for her to read. “he calls me his love, I can’t- I loved him, I did, I can feel it. But I don’t remember what he looked like or how he looked at me or what his voice sounded like or what color his eyes were or-”
“hon, calm yourself.” she kneels down in front of Eurydice, cupping her wet cheeks with both of her hands. “just breath for me, okay? just breath.”
she can barely do that. she does, though, and the world still feels shifted and off. “Seph, what can I do? he’s just... gone. he’s already fading again, his words, they’re fading.”
“take it,” Persephone takes her hands and puts the letter into them. “read it, look at it, every day and hold onto that.”
she holds the withered carnation between her thumb and forefinger, and right in front of her eyes, it blooms again. a rebirth. Eurydice’s eyes widen as Persephone takes the flower, tucking it behind one of Eurydice’s ears. she wipes away the girl’s tears with her fingers, doing more harm than good, but in those same spots places two small kisses on her cheeks.
“try to remember how he made you feel,” she murmurs. “it’s down there, and once you find that, everything else will come. he’s waiting for you, and I’m going to come back next year with another letter, but until then, you read this one until you have it memorized. you never forget, okay?”
she takes a deep breath, holding it tight and squeezing her eyes closed. he’s fading, but this time she grasps tight to the small recollection she has of him.
“okay.”
“he’s waiting for you,” Persephone says. “just hold on until then.”
he’s fading, nearly gone, but wherever he goes, she’s going to follow.