Chapter Text

Chapter I – An Unseen Seed

Long after Zeus lifted the lock that kept him in the Underworld, Hades never returned to Olympus. Centuries of isolation did little to reduce Hades’ resentment of his family.

Unfortunately for Olympus, his ambition to overthrow it had endured as well. He blamed the Fates for fueling it once more. An unseen seed that the gods have failed to see, will bring your greatest victory. Naturally, they refused to explain.

So, for the first time in centuries, Hades attended the monthly gathering on Olympus, hoping to find out what the Fates meant.

Even before stepping through the golden gates, he could hear Zeus’ voice booming. Laughing louder than anyone else at one of his own jokes, as usual.

He immediately regretted setting foot on Olympus when all the gods and goddesses he passed fell silent. He loved silence. Just not the kind that said, We still hate you. We enjoyed your absence. Not that he cared what they thought. Either way, somebody had to keep the dead organized while the rest of his family lounged in the sunshine.

"Hades! Little brother! Well, I'll be. Who moved the rock?"
Without a chance to reply, Zeus wrapped his arm around Hades’ neck.

Great. He’d forgotten there were things even worse than being ignored.

“What’s it been? A couple centuries? How've ya been?”

Hades tried peeling Zeus's arm off his neck. "Couldn't be better. Dark, damp, screaming souls—you know, the usual." He shrugged. “Somebody’s gotta do it, huh.”

Zeus patted him on the back—or rather, slammed him hard enough to make Hades stumble. "That's the spirit! Nobody does gloomy better than you!" he said, waving the serving nymphs over.

Hades finally slipped free. "Yeah. Lucky me."

Without even looking, Zeus casually hooked an arm around him again.

"Careful, everyone! My little brother's back. Keep an eye on your drinks... and anything else you don't want tampered with.” He grinned as he raised his cup to the assembled gods.

He burst into laughter. So did the rest of the pantheon.

Ugh. One little incident, and now it's gonna follow me for the next thousand years.

He briefly turned red, his flames flaring up, but decided he didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of knowing they’d gotten beneath his skin.

This was exactly why he'd stayed away for centuries.

His gaze snapped away. Instead, he looked over the crowd. They were still laughing.

Then his attention caught on someone unfamiliar…

A young goddess beside Demeter. One who wasn’t laughing. Instead, she glanced at the other gods, then at him, her brows knitting as though the scene didn’t quite make sense. 

She wore a wreath of flowers on her head and another around her wrist. Upon closer inspection, the flowers were unlike any he'd seen before. Crooked, twisting where they shouldn't, in dark color combinations he’d never seen before.

Olympus hadn't become any less insufferable. It had just become interesting.

Who is she?

🜂🜄🜂🜄🜂

Having escaped Zeus' oppressive presence—and his other terrible family members—Hades leaned against a column. From there, he kept one eye on the crowd. More specifically... on Persephone.

“Persephone is such a gifted girl, just like her mother,” Athena said. At that name, Hades looked up again.
“And every bit her mother’s daughter,” Hermes added. “She's gonna be great as Demeter's successor.”

Demeter's daughter. That's all anyone seemed to call her. An unseen seed that the gods have failed to see... He found Persephone in the crowd, accompanied by her mother. ...will bring your greatest victory. Hm.

They crossed his line of sight.

For just a moment, Demeter looked his way, full of disdain. “There’s no need to acknowledge him,” she said, dismissing him with a casual wave.

He rolled his eyes dramatically at the sky. “Whoa. I almost got hurt.”

Persephone looked from her mother to him. A quiet sigh escaped her before she offered him a small, apologetic smile and the slightest shrug.

Huh? Did she just… smile? At me?

Demeter shook her head. "Whatever. Come along now." She looped her arm through Persephone's and steered her away.

His gaze followed them to a nearby group of gods. Within moments, they were surrounded by gods eager to talk to the young goddess and her mother.

“Persephone! Demeter!”
A strand of Persephone’s hair had escaped. Without a word, Demeter reached over and tucked it neatly back into place. Persephone remained perfectly still.

Demeter accepted the attention with practiced ease. Persephone, however, looked less enthusiastic. “You are going to be a marvelous Harvest goddess. Just like your mother.”
Persephone smiled politely. "Actually, I was hoping—"
"Oh, she's thrilled," Demeter said with a warm laugh before Persephone could finish.

The other gods chuckled and moved on as though Persephone hadn't spoken at all. Persephone’s smile faltered briefly, and her fingers absently brushed the flowers woven around her wrist. Beneath her touch, the flowers wilted, and he could’ve sworn he saw frost around the edges. Interesting. Death at the mere touch of her fingers.

When Demeter looked down at Persephone’s flowers she frowned at them. With a touch, she straightened their crooked petals and turned them a cheerful yellow

A young goddess no one seemed to be looking at—not really. Maybe the Fates had been making sense after all.

As Demeter and the others continued talking, Persephone quietly slipped away unnoticed.

“Play nice,” a voice far too close to him said. Aphrodite. Startled, his blue flames shot up. “Yeesh! Where'd you come from?” He straightened his chiton. She rolled her eyes. Her gaze drifted toward Persephone. She took a slow sip of wine, one eyebrow arched over the rim of her cup.

“What?” he asked.

Aphrodite kept that infuriatingly smug smile.

He dragged a hand down his face. Great. When he looked back, Persephone was gone. Where'd she go?

A floral bracelet lay on the ground.

"Here. Hold this." He shoved his cup into Aphrodite's hands before she had a chance to protest.

He bent down and picked up the bracelet. The corner of his mouth curled. 

An easy favor. An easy opening. 

🜂🜄🜂🜄🜂

Hades watched Persephone disappear behind one of the towering trees in Olympus' garden. Alone. Well, isn't this convenient.

The sounds of laughter and music from the party gradually faded behind him as he followed the trail of wilted grass through the garden. He stepped from a burst of blue flames in front of Persephone.

“Looking for this?” He showed her the floral bracelet, then offered his other hand. “Name’s Hades.”

Persephone looked him over, tilted her head, then shook his hand. “Hey, I'm Persephone." She hesitated for just a moment before adding, "Demeter's daughter, as everyone likes to remind me."

He gave her hand a firm shake. "Lord of the Dead. As everyone likes to remind me." 

A quiet scoff escaped her before the corner of her mouth curled upward.

“So…Demeter’s got ya on a pretty short leash, huh?”
She looked down, shifting her weight. “She worries.”

“Uh-huh.” He folded his arms. “Must get old.”

He turned to the crowd in the distance. “Everyone in there introduces you the same way.”

She let out a sigh she'd been holding all evening. “Demeter’s daughter,” she finished quietly. He nodded. “Nobody seemed interested in meeting the real Persephone.”

He glanced at the frost spreading over the grass and flowers around her feet. Interesting.

“Aren’t you the one who tirelessly tried to overthrow Olympus?”

Hades blinked. Then he laughed under his breath and leaned against the tree. "And they act like you're green."

He pointed toward the frost spreading through the grass.
“I’m just saying, you got a gift, Persephone.” Her gaze followed his to the frost. “Whole pantheon's lookin' at you... and nobody notices that?” She kept staring. “Makes you wonder whether they don’t see it… or whether they’d rather you didn’t.”

Persephone studied him. “What's it to you?”

He took her wrist, turned her hand over, and dropped the bracelet into her palm. He folded her fingers shut around it before letting go.
“Forget I said anything. Keep smiling, keep growing happy, little flowers, let ’em turn you into Demeter Junior.”

He began to turn away, then glanced back. “If you ever get tired of being told what you are, come downstairs. I might be able to help you show Olympus what they’ve been so eager not to see.”