The Colour Of Pomegranates

Chapter 42

Over the next few weeks Persephone regularly visited Orpheus, in some perverse need to punish herself for being wrong about him. About all of them, actually. From her conversations with the singer she concluded it might not have been love he felt for Eurydice after all. He wasn't looking for his bride, he was looking for his muse. He wanted her back so he could write his songs again. He didn't even want her to roam the Mortal Realm without him, falsely convinced he was some innate part of her life - like oxygen or water.

As the last days of Summer were upon her, she got friendlier with her mother, knowing she wouldn't see her for some time to come. She also tried to say goodbye to the world, but didn't know how. She was sitting in the middle of a field, humming a song, enjoying Helios' hot rays on her bare back, when Demeter walked over to her.

'I got you something', she said as she sat down beside her daughter. Persephone looked up from a small notebook she was carrying around. Curious Demeter looked at it, but her daughter closed the book before she could see what it contained.

'Hey mom', she said with a smile. Demeter sighed as she offered her a small box. Inside she found a string of colourful sea shells. 

'I guess Dark and Gloomy doesn't have those Below.' She laughed. Dark and Gloomy was way better than Ugly and Callous. 

'Thank you. They are very pretty. I will keep them with me.'

'What do you have there?' Demeter pointed at the small notebook. Hesitantly, Persephone gave it to her.

'I was pressing flowers for you. I know you'll be sad when I leave and the world will once again wither and bare of its foliage. I hope you can look at these and think of me.' Demeter kissed her temple and went through the book. Snowdrops, daffodil, dandelion, poppy, daisy, lavender. The book ended with forget-me-not. Demeter let out a deep sigh. Persephone rested her head on her mother's shoulder. 

'Thank you, Kore.' 

That evening Persephone was sitting in her window sill, reminiscing her childhood. When she was about five years old, she became aware of the flowers that bloomed when she was happy. She used to run around in the field, laughing merrily as the flowers followed her footsteps precisely. She would run in figures, overgrowing the field with masses of wildflowers. The first years it were wildflowers only. On her twelfth birthday red carnations appeared in her wake and she loved them ever since. 

The door opened and Demeter came in the room, holding two mugs of hot chocolate and whipped cream. Persephone glanced over her shoulder and moved over so her mother could sit on the bed next to her. Demeter smelled of roses. It used to comfort Persephone in a way nothing else could. When she was sad and Demeter pulled her into a hug that pushed the air out of her longs, she would smell the roses. When she was happy and they danced in the living rooms, she would smell the roses. When she was tired and she would fall asleep in Demeter's arms, she would smell the roses.

'Are you sure you want to be Below?' Demeter asked after a while. Persephone was sipping the hot chocolate, feeling that this, too, was comforting now. It reminded her of a man in a tavern, looking at her with the most loving eyes. It reminded her of a friend, trying to take her mind off of things, trying to make her laugh. And now it reminded her of a mother as well, desperate to find a connection in a dark bedroom that smelled of flowers.

'I'll be fine, mom.'

'Just promise me one thing', Demeter said with a hoarse voice. 'Don't become Queen. You can't ever return when you become Queen of the Underworld. You'll be bound to your Kingdom and I will never see you again. I won't survive that.' Smiling faintly, Persephone moved from the windowsill to the bed and took her mother's hands in hers.

'I can't promise you that. You know I can't.' Defeated, Demeter freed her hands and lay her head in Persephone's lap. There was a time it used to be the other way around, Persephone thought. 

'You know', Demeter murmured, 'there is a powerful attraction in all three of them, and for all three it is different. Zeus is mighty funny, with honest eyes that look at you like you are the only woman in the world. Hades is so serious and dark, it bores me' - she raised her hand to silence her daughter before she could contradict her - 'but it's something you seem to like. I'm just glad you never met Poseidon.' She giggled. 'He is the bad boy of the three, you know. Dark and brooding, eyes that seem to undress you when you look him in the eye. I'm sure if you had met him you'd be Queen of the Oceans by now.' Persephone laughed, enjoying the honest talk they should've had years ago.

'What about the others? Like Apollo, or Ares?' Demeter laughed.

'You are too powerful to fall for a god like that. Even if they're handsome or kind or funny. They don't have what it takes to receive your well-deserved love. If anything, you were always destined to be a Queen - although I would have loved seeing you with that arrogant Apollo. At least you'd be here, with me.' Persephone laughed, hearing those familiar words. Maybe Demeter was more like Hades than she would've liked.