realized she was sobbing.
Her door creaked open. “Mama?”
She sobbed harder.
“Oh, Mama. What’s wrong?” Persephone rushed to her side and pulled her into her lap as Demeter had done for her. She stroked her hair and hugged her close.
Demeter knew then she deserved to die. For all the suffering she’d wrought in the world. It didn’t matter she thought what happened to her had been unfair, it didn’t matter what Zeus had done to her. Persephone deserved so much better than what she’d been given. After all, wouldn’t her lot be the same as Demeter’s when her child came of age?
All of these long, bitter years a waste.
Eros was wrong. She didn’t deserve to be loved. She’d never done anything to make herself worthy and her child, her very own flesh and blood who loved her unconditionally had born the brunt of her selfishness. Even after she’d taken away what Persephone had loved most, her daughter was still here holding her in the dark while Demeter grieved for herself.
“Mama, it’s cold in here. You have to stop. Come on, tell me what’s wrong,” Persephone crooned.
Demeter felt the light, yet frigid kiss of snowflakes on her skin. She opened her eyes to see big, fat flakes falling from the ceiling as they blanketed the room. She looked outside and realized it was snowing outside too. All of Olympus would be covered in her frozen misery.
“I’m sorry, Persephone. I’m so sorry.” She hugged her daughter close, wondering if she’d ever forgive her for what she’d done.
“What are you sorry for?”
“Taking you away from Hades. Forgive me.”
Persephone stopped smoothing her mother’s hair for a moment, then continued. “It’s okay, Mama. I know you wanted what was best for me.”
Demeter sobbed harder.
“Whatever happened, I love you. It’s okay. But you have to stop. By snowing all over Olympus, you’re going to incite a war. Come on. Let’s make it spring.”
“I can’t,” she hiccupped.
“I’ll help you. Think of roses. Bright red roses peeking up out of the snow. It’s unnatural. They’ll love it.”
Demeter felt her daughter’s power spike and instead of hating her for it, she surrendered her own and let their powers merge and outside, roses covered Olympus.
“There now, it’s beautiful. Come look!” Persephone said excitedly.
“No, I don’t think so. I’m tired now.”
“Are you still sick, Mama?”
Yes, Demeter was sick, but not only in the way Persephone thought. She was sick, dying. But she was sick at heart too. Demeter sighed heavily. The pain she’d dulled with her rage and her hate came back in a regimented force and she was too tired to put up a defense. She let it take her.
“Yes, little seedling, I am, but I’ll be okay. Go on now.”
“Eros left his quiver,” she said quietly.
“Take it to him, will you? I don’t want to see him again.”
“He loves you, you know,” she ventured.
“I know.”
“Mama,”
“Persephone!” she snapped.
“Just one more thing and I’ll leave you alone. I think you could be happy with him. You’ve never been with anyone as long as you’ve had me and I’ll always need you, Mama, but I’ve learned you and I need something else besides each other.”
This was the first time Persephone had ever contradicted her openly and Demeter was proud of her for it. Maybe the damage she’d done to her beautiful child wouldn’t be eternal.
“Go back to bed now, seedling.” Persephone wasn’t a seedling any longer, but a long-stemmed rose, lovely and ready to lift her face the sun.
It was the beginning of the long dark for Demeter.
HERA
“Here to finish what you started?” Hades said darkly, without turning to face her. He’d opened another bottle of Stolichnaya and stood tall and brooding over the wet bar.
“It depends on how many of those you’ve had.” Hera quickly took in his unkempt appearance. Damn if he didn’t wear tortured well. Even wallowing in his misery, he
Her door creaked open. “Mama?”
She sobbed harder.
“Oh, Mama. What’s wrong?” Persephone rushed to her side and pulled her into her lap as Demeter had done for her. She stroked her hair and hugged her close.
Demeter knew then she deserved to die. For all the suffering she’d wrought in the world. It didn’t matter she thought what happened to her had been unfair, it didn’t matter what Zeus had done to her. Persephone deserved so much better than what she’d been given. After all, wouldn’t her lot be the same as Demeter’s when her child came of age?
All of these long, bitter years a waste.
Eros was wrong. She didn’t deserve to be loved. She’d never done anything to make herself worthy and her child, her very own flesh and blood who loved her unconditionally had born the brunt of her selfishness. Even after she’d taken away what Persephone had loved most, her daughter was still here holding her in the dark while Demeter grieved for herself.
“Mama, it’s cold in here. You have to stop. Come on, tell me what’s wrong,” Persephone crooned.
Demeter felt the light, yet frigid kiss of snowflakes on her skin. She opened her eyes to see big, fat flakes falling from the ceiling as they blanketed the room. She looked outside and realized it was snowing outside too. All of Olympus would be covered in her frozen misery.
“I’m sorry, Persephone. I’m so sorry.” She hugged her daughter close, wondering if she’d ever forgive her for what she’d done.
“What are you sorry for?”
“Taking you away from Hades. Forgive me.”
Persephone stopped smoothing her mother’s hair for a moment, then continued. “It’s okay, Mama. I know you wanted what was best for me.”
Demeter sobbed harder.
“Whatever happened, I love you. It’s okay. But you have to stop. By snowing all over Olympus, you’re going to incite a war. Come on. Let’s make it spring.”
“I can’t,” she hiccupped.
“I’ll help you. Think of roses. Bright red roses peeking up out of the snow. It’s unnatural. They’ll love it.”
Demeter felt her daughter’s power spike and instead of hating her for it, she surrendered her own and let their powers merge and outside, roses covered Olympus.
“There now, it’s beautiful. Come look!” Persephone said excitedly.
“No, I don’t think so. I’m tired now.”
“Are you still sick, Mama?”
Yes, Demeter was sick, but not only in the way Persephone thought. She was sick, dying. But she was sick at heart too. Demeter sighed heavily. The pain she’d dulled with her rage and her hate came back in a regimented force and she was too tired to put up a defense. She let it take her.
“Yes, little seedling, I am, but I’ll be okay. Go on now.”
“Eros left his quiver,” she said quietly.
“Take it to him, will you? I don’t want to see him again.”
“He loves you, you know,” she ventured.
“I know.”
“Mama,”
“Persephone!” she snapped.
“Just one more thing and I’ll leave you alone. I think you could be happy with him. You’ve never been with anyone as long as you’ve had me and I’ll always need you, Mama, but I’ve learned you and I need something else besides each other.”
This was the first time Persephone had ever contradicted her openly and Demeter was proud of her for it. Maybe the damage she’d done to her beautiful child wouldn’t be eternal.
“Go back to bed now, seedling.” Persephone wasn’t a seedling any longer, but a long-stemmed rose, lovely and ready to lift her face the sun.
It was the beginning of the long dark for Demeter.
HERA
“Here to finish what you started?” Hades said darkly, without turning to face her. He’d opened another bottle of Stolichnaya and stood tall and brooding over the wet bar.
“It depends on how many of those you’ve had.” Hera quickly took in his unkempt appearance. Damn if he didn’t wear tortured well. Even wallowing in his misery, he
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