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Keeping it locked inside only hurt more.
She walked the whole way back to her mother’s cottage, using the movement to burn away the feelings that seeing Pelops had brought up within her before facing her mother and friends again. It took longer than if she had flown or simply manifested back to the clearing, but she couldn’t see her mother before she calmed herself down. Not when she already hated Pelops and would certainly kill him again, with the help of her friends, for hurting Persephone.
Already she could hear them asking about what had upset her, and if it had anything to do with her new husband, who was “so very attractive”. She could hear her mother’s sharp tutting every time she mentioned Pelops, whether she was telling her she still loved him or that he had completely forgotten her. Every sound of her tongue sucking and clicking digging deeper into her until she cracked and her knees gave out under the pressure of their stares and condescension.
As Persephone stared blankly at the wall from her spot on the ground, Elektra would say something about how Hades could fuck the sadness away, and Melia would silence her sister before telling Persephone to accept her decision and move on with her life.
She hated them at this moment. With her heart carved open and wrath boiling inside her, she hated them for what they would say upon her arrival.
She hated Hades most of all.
All she wanted was for Pelops to remember her. She had married Hades and promised to stay with him in the Underworld for half of every year – half of her life, and he refused to give her this one simple, tiny thing she asked of him.
Well, other than Pelops’ life being returned to him.
Groaning, Persephone slowed her pace, and sat down on a large boulder by the edge of the flowing stream she was following home. She removed her sandals, and dipped her toes into the rushing water, wincing at the cold water splashing up her legs, soaking the bottom of her skirts.
She may have hated Hades for all the horrible things he did, the things he’d taken from her, but he had brought Pelops back. For her. He’d given him another chance at living a normal, mortal life, all because she asked him to.
There was nothing she could say to say Hades, nothing she could do to him when he had already given her the biggest thing she had ever wanted.
Persephone’s anger slowly flowed out of her body as she thought of how Hades had helped her, and given her a reasonable explanation for not granting her every wish. No matter how much she loved Pelops, Hades never could have allowed him to remember, and she understood that, even though it tortured her.
She was his wife. Whether she loved Hades or not, she was his wife for the rest of their eternal existence and would have to deal with him for a very long time.
Keeping the peace between herself and her husband was more important now than her own feelings. More important than the anger, hurt, and betrayal she felt deep down, knowing Hades had taken those memories on purpose.
Even though she had known he would. He hadn’t kept that part a secret. He told her what would happen and why, laid out his reasoning and waited for her to accept before finalizing anything.
He even promised not to kill Pelops after resurrecting him. That had to count for something, though not much if she was being completely honest with herself.
Persephone knew she had to move on with her life. Their life, as husband and wife—King and Queen.
Persephone felt lighter when she stood, her steps practically bouncing off the ground as she continued on. Like the stream had washed away her worries and left her with glittering flecks of wisdom in their place, urging her to live her life unscathed by the past. By Pelops, who no longer took up space in her heart, and no longer mattered.
Smiling, Persephone blinked, opening her eyes to her mother’s beautiful forested meadow, and easily finding her way out for the first time. No ache plagued her head either as she strolled up the hill, and she sent a silent prayer to Hades for that.
As she pushed the door open she heard her mother and friends conversing quietly in the backroom, facing the garden. Most of the back wall had been removed so that the garden could be easily seen and allowed the sun to pour inside unobstructed.
Still smiling, and feeling proud of herself for how she handled her situation all on her own, Persephone sat on the floral rug at her mother’s feet, leaning her head against her leg.
“Are you okay?” Melia asked tentatively, eyeing Persephone suspiciously, waiting for the inevitable laments to gush from her friend again.
Persephone beamed at them all, “Of course, I am,” she said.
“Are you drunk?” Her mother said, pushing her away from her legs to look into her eyes.
“Did you overindulge in another mind altering substance?” Elektra asked when Persephone shook her head at her mother’s question.
“No,” Persephone laughed. “I am perfectly fine and of sound mind,” she said, standing up. “Can I bring anyone a glass of wine? I am parched.”
A chorus of hesitant yeses sang through the room and she poured four sizable glasses of wine in the next room. Bloody streams of wine trickled down her fingers as she walked back to the three women still seated and silent in the sun-warmed room.
“What is it?” Persephone asked, carefully crossing her legs and taking a deep, long sip of her wine. It was half empty by the time her mother eyed her warily and put her own glass down on the short stone table beside her, untouched.
“What happened?” She demanded. “You left in a rage, a hysterical sadness draped over you, and now you’ve returned smiling wildly like you haven’t just married the worst god imaginable.”
Persephone pressed her lips together and shut her eyes at Demeter’s accusatory tone, swallowing the tears already bubbling up her throat. Her smile was tight as she said, “Nothing happened. I have just accepted my new husband and my new life. I have decided it isn’t so bad to be married, even if my husband is the King of the Dead.” She took another long sip, filling her mouth to the point of bursting before swallowing again to buy herself a small amount of time. “I mean, I am Queen of the Dead, now. That’s quite a high and powerful position. How could I justify being unhappy about the circumstances that brought me to it?” She knew it was too much before she finished speaking.
