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Arthur had been the beloved golden son, his flaxen hair the colour of the wheat he harvested and his eyes the blue of the spring and summer sky. The village had called him a good luck charm, on the day he was born they had their best harvest and every harvest since his birth had been plentiful.
Guinevere had come up to see the Spring equinox sunset, a refreshing break from her hell-bound duties when she'd seen him picking flowers in a field.
She knew then that she must have him.
They spent hours in the meadow together, dancing and swaying before she tempted him below.
She stole him away, thieving from the upper world something that she deemed incredibly precious.
Little did she know the thunderous rage of Ygraine. Drought struck the lands, plants withered, people starved. Her rage grew on as her son remained missing.
She didn't realise that the narrative had been skewed, warped. Her beloved son had not been kidnapped or tempted. He'd gone of his own free will, happy to follow the beautiful girl he'd met in the flower field.
The drought continued, the harvest failed. Arthur pleaded with his love, torn between his desire and stopping his mother's rage.
Gwen understood, they couldn't continue letting people starve. Besides, as with every drought plague and war, the gates of the underworld were beginning to overflow with new arrivals.
Arthur devised a plan, if he ate something whilst in the Underworld he would be able to stay. Gwen argued against him.
"You can't, you'll never be able to return home. You'll have to stay here forever," Gwen protested. "You'd never feel sunlight or see the flowers grow."
What did the sunlight matter if he could be with Gwen forever?
"You think those are more important than my love for you? I only care for you. You have my heart."
"And you have mine," Gwen replied."What do you truly want?"
"To be with you in hell." Arthur brushed the side of her face.
Gwen cut the pomegranate in half, it looked like a bloodied heart. She plucked a single seed from it and placed it between Arthur's lips. He kissed her fingertips and licked his lips.
He was bound to her, claimed by her. He'd chosen the underworld, chosen Gwen.
And so there he would stay, as he wished with all his heart.