Persephone's Curse

Not Persephone

Aidan/Hades

It could not have been her. It was plainly impossible.

The girl - that girl that looked so much like Persephone, his Persephone - was human. Utterly and irrevokably human. He could smell it on her and feel it in the way that she walked - her mortality.

But she had met his gaze, stared him right into the eyes, seemingly through him, with those two spheres of green the same shade as the leaves of the trees that she had grown in the Underworld. Trees that had long ago wilted, when they had realized that their queen was not coming back, along with her unending garden where they had spent so many moments. Shared so many secrets.

But it couldn't be her. His Persephone was dead.

She had fought, and lost.
Her being alive, and human, was purely impossible. Unhead of. Her essence had been ripped apart, tore into a million little pieces and then melted out of existence. There had been nothing left, the Lord of the Underworld would know.

That didn't stop him from hoping though. After all, hoping she'll somehow get back to him was all he'd been doing since she Faded. Faded, because gods did not die. Dying meant your soul ended up somewhere - in the Underworld, if you happened to have a demigod as an ancestor.
Knowing there had been nothing left of her after the fight also did nothing to stop him from doing something he knew was stupid and reckless.
And so he had marked the human girl that looked like his lover with his sigil, right in the spot where he knew she had loved to be teased. He still could not explain what had come over him to do it. Maybe the loss had finally taking his toll on him, pushing him to act foolish.
He then wiped the memory of each and every girl who had been in the room that night - including hers. If this was truly his Persephone, she would remember him, eventually. He was sure she would. His dark tulip was strong. Fierce. Whatever had happened, it would not stop her from going back to her old self.
Reluctantly, he made a double take.
If it was not her, he wasn't going to ruin the life of a mere mortal with the bidings of gods. He knew what falling for humans did to both parts. The toll it took.
No, it was going to hurt him worse than ripping his own skin off his immortal bones, but he was going to leave her alone.

He wasn't a monster. At least he hoped he could refrain himself from being, for the sake of that girl.

So he decided to wait.

The wait was horrible, and he was feeling his resolve wilting just like his lover's brilliant garden had, after just one human night. He noticed time had started to sync in to the mortal realm again, like back when his Persephone was promised to him, and her arrival in his dark palace brough cold weather for the humans. He didn't know if to take it as mockery on his behalf or a sign from the Fates.

He truly hoped it was a sign, as he vanished again from his seat on the throne in the room lined with skeletal guards and made an appearence back where he knew she was.

Standing in the shade of some trees, he had not expected to catch her alone. Or admiring the flowers on the sidewalk in a pastel blue sundress, a certain skip to her steps as the sun warmed her already tanned skin, long hazel hair flowing down her back.

This could not be anyone but her. She looked exactly as she had that day, millenia ago. That day when Zeus had blatantly said he was free to take her, and in a frenzied stupor, after watching her have another fight with Demeter, he actually had.

He still cringed when he thought of that day, and the regret that followed as he saw the betrayed and angered look on her face. She had not wanted to be saved. She could hold her own ground, she had said. And while being yelled at, he thought that right then and there was the moment he fell in love.
He knew he had deserved the tree branch that had hit him full in the face when they first landed in the Underworld. He had known even back then that stealing her away had been a mistake.

He regretted not having waited the conclusion of that argument, for her to boldly answer Demeter's threats to have her locked up if she did not behave.

But neither him, not her, had regretted anything that followed.
Not as she ruled over the Underworld with an iron fist even he wouldn't have managed.
He certainly had not regretted anything when he saw her start donning dark dresses and wearing her hair in complicated twists that seemed to move in time with her breathing.
That was not to say he did not like when her hair was down. Hells, he loved it with his whole being.
He loved Persephone.
And honestly, he was not sure at all he'd be able to do the right thing if that girl was not her.