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“He’s more awkward than people know,” Hades admits.
“Will you not miss me?” Kore asks her at length.
“I miss you, always, even when near. I’ll never stop missing you,” Hades admits, sliding into his lap. Kore presses soft lips to her shoulder, his arms around her middle. His large hands splayed on her stomach, as they so often are during their quiet reprieves.
“I don’t want you to feel alone,” Kore whispers. Sometimes Hades believes she can hear meaning between his words, but now she’s not so sure she understands.
“I don’t. I won’t. I know you’ll return.” She cups his cheek and kisses his temple when his next words shock her.
“Is this the story we will tell our children?”
“What?” Hades startles.
“You know, once upon a time there was a wicked old woman—she’s your grandmother—and your daddy killed her to become the King of Spring.” Kore tickles the side of Hades' neck with the tip of his nose. “Since no mortal will ever hear this tale, we’ll have to tell someone.”
“And you think we’ll have children?” Hades asks, her throat clogged with emotion at the thought of disappointing him.I’ve never conceived before.
“I think we’ll have to wait for that part of the tapestry to be woven.” Kore whispers, capturing Hades' mouth in a delightfully sweet kiss.
A kiss she hopes never ends.
Homer
“I believe this is where we tell him we lived happily ever after, my love.” Kore, King of Spring, concludes with a soft smile as he stares down at Homer.
“Did our story end?” Hades counters, her expression appearing softer now than it had when Homer first fell before her throne.
“No. I suppose it can’t end with happily ever after.” Kore stands, chuckling as he makes his way down the steps that lead up to Hades' obsidian chair. “What do you say, Homer? How should we end our tale?”
Homer swallows, glancing between them nervously.
Clearing his throat, Homer begins, “And so the Queen of the Underworld found her consort. A god the Fates had not forgotten though his mother, the goddess Demeter, tried to strike his name from relevance. A god who rose to be a king in his own right, even if mortals never knew of his accomplishments. A god who serves beside his beloved for eternity, waiting, in love, for Chaos to call everything back to the primordial darkness.”
Kore’s eyes crinkle at the corners, his smile infectious as it lights up his handsome face. “Bravo, myth weaver. You’ve written a better ending.”
Glancing over his shoulder, Kore watches as Hades waves a careless hand. Another grin lights his face, the sort of expression no mortal has any right to witness. Intimate, loving, eternal. There’s so much love between the two gods that Homer wonders how two deathless beings maintain a love so deep when mortals scarcely manage one love for their short breath of life.
“Come,” Kore commands. “I’ll lead you to your final resting place.”
Homer follows Kore through the magnificence of Hades' palace. Though shrouded in eternal darkness, places in the halls grow with beautiful vegetation. Roses are lit beneath the soft glow of what looks to be a single beam of sunlight. In another alcove, a proud bush of mint blooms with purple flowers beneath another ray of sunshine.
Life found in a realm for dead things; Homer’s lip trembles at the beauty. A homage to both rulers of this dark place.
As beautiful as the plants in the halls were, the field Kore leads Homer to surpasses that beauty.
Elysium spans beyond a gate of intricate platinum—warm light, filled with meadows, an abundance of trees bearing delicious fruits—Homer stumbles, awestruck by the sight before him.
“Will I stay here?” He asks the god at his side.
Kore turns to him, grinning down at Homer’s spirit. “If you choose, yes.”
“There’s a choice?” Homer’s eyebrows draw together, puzzled that he’s been given options.
“Everyone, save for the worst offenders, is given a choice. Not just heroes and greats, to Hades they are all equally deserving.” Kore gestures to Elysium. “You can stay here, or you can be reborn.”
Homer contemplates the offer. “How different is the world I left?”
“Extremely,” Kore replies. His honesty soothes Homer’s nerves. “But, in rebirth, you won’t remember this life. You’d grow as any mortal in a womb, and be born anew.”
