Vowed to Hades

Persephone lay in Hades's four poster
bed like a sleeping princess. Her delicate hands were folded one atop the other
and resting over her heart. Her exquisite bosoms rose and fell with her
breaths, and the sheer nightgown left very little to the imagination.

Not that Hades needed an imagination,
or a reminder. He had already memorized every curve and contour of Persephone’s
body. His tongue, his fingers, his very soul had touched every part of her. And
watching her sleeping so peacefully and ignorant of this fact drove him to near
insanity.

Persephone had to be kept under a
sleeping spell while he thought about his options. The grand plan to finally
rescue his woman did not go exactly to plan. After all, he thought Adonis was
simply keeping her locked up in his palace against her will. He had no idea the
wretched man had wiped her memories and seduced her into marriage.

The look of sheer devastation and
hatred on Persephone’s face was unmistakable as Hades stood with the bloodied
mace in his hands, pieces of Adonis's brain matter clung to the spikes.

If Hades had known what Adonis had
done, he would have thought of a different plan.

Now, Persephone was grief-stricken
over the murder of her husband, and her heart was cold toward Hades.

Without her memories, how could she
ever accept the truth? As far as she was concerned, Hades was a monster, who
would stop at nothing to destroy her.

And in part, she was right. Indeed,
he had committed monstrous acts. They both had. Together. That was always the
charm with them.

She was his Dark Queen. His goddess.
Some called Persephone more cold-hearted and ruthless than him.

And he did enjoy destroying her,
night after night. Feasting on her flesh. Making her mewl and melt under his
hands. He was the only person in all the worlds who could tame her.

He licked his lips at the memory as
he watched his sleeping bride. His fingers twitched as he thought about
dragging his hands over her scrumptious body. He ran his tongue across his
teeth as he considered biting her luscious thighs. Or tangling his fingers
through her strawberry blonde locks.

This was a new form of torment.
Perhaps this was Zeus's way of damning him to an eternity of hell.  To have Persephone within his clutches once
more, but yet so far.

Days passed by, and he tried to wake
her. He sent her gifts. Her favorite dark lilies from the Hot Springs. A tiara
of black and purple rhinestones with a large emerald in the center.

She screamed and howled and sobbed.
Thrashing like a wild, wounded beast. She shredded the lilies, scattering the
petals all over the floor. And tossed the tiara so hard, it broke in two and
smashed the floor-length mirror.

She moaned Adonis's name in her
sleep.

No matter what gifts or how much time
Hades gave her, she refused to calm down and listen to him.

“Just kill me,” she demanded. “If I
can only be reunited with my Adonis in death, then let me drink the bitter
cup.”

Hades cursed under his breath. He
would never allow his perfect Persephone to die. She was his eternal bride. He
just needed her to remember.

After she had him deceived, and her
newfound friends were safe in the world above, Persephone dropped her act and
went back to being spiteful and angry with Hades.

As far as she was concerned, he was
the villain. And nothing would change that.

In fact, as time went on, Hades was
beginning to believe it too.

While she slept, he poured over
ancient scrolls and tablets from all corners of the world. He found a tea
brewed in ancient China that dulled the senses and stilled the mind. Some
whispers said it could even wipe away memories.

He shook his fist at the dark ceiling
of his boudoir, thinking of the wisp in his kingdom belonging to Adonis. The
man had single-handedly destroyed him, and he was out for revenge.

But how could one carry out revenge
on a dead man?

If he had known the extent of
Adonis's crimes, he would have strung out the process. Locking him up in one of
his torture rooms for a thousand years. Letting his Devil Men to flay him just
enough to heal, stick his eyeballs with pins, and break his bones. Smashing in
his skull with Hercules's mace was too kind. Too quick. Too glorious of a
death.

He clung to the hope that a siren
could help him. After all, Ava had successfully hypnotized Persephone to follow
her out of the castle. But Ava was stubborn, and she did not wish to play a
part in his plan.

He had attempted to break her,
leaving her to rot in a cell with Hercules for weeks on end.

But Hades had gone too far. She was
left so broken it seemed to diminish her powers.

So, he was forced to let her go.
Hoping that when she and Hercules fell in love, she would be restored and of
use to him again.

He paced the room, listening to
Persephone’s breathing.

He could steal another siren, though
they were notoriously tricky to catch. Even for a god.

Sirens generally did not venture into
the Underworld. Ava had been the very first one he came into contact with for
more than a century. And though a war raged on, and scores of sirens’ souls
came down to the River of the Dead, they were as useful to him as a wet towel.

His mind raced back to the countless
references in old fairy tales. Promises of the magic that came with “true
love’s kiss.”

He knew his chances were low, but he
was desperate.

With a deep, steadying breath, he
approached the bed, and the mattress shifted under his weight as he sat beside
Persephone.

She did not stir, too deep in a sleep
to notice his presence.

He longed for her to open her pretty
eyes and call out his name. He’d even take an angry, scornful Persephone, if
she’d follow up her tantrum with rampant love making. As they had so often done
in the past.

There was simply nothing more joyous
than a round of angry sex.

He brushed her soft hair away from
her pale brow and grazed her bottom lip with his thumb.

“Come back to me, my queen,” he
whispered and lowered his mouth to hers.

Persephone jolted awake at his kiss
and when Hades leaned back, he thought for one wonderful moment that it had
worked.

Her pupils dilated when she blinked
at him, then she rested her hand on his cheek for a brief moment.

But then, quick as a flash — smack.

“Get your vile hands off me, you
murdering, soul-sucking, disgusting old man!”

She hissed and thrashed, clawing his
face and chest with her nails until blood trailed down his pectorals.

He grabbed her by the wrists and
pinned them above her head.

“Now you listen here,” he growled,
towering over her.

Persephone’s body stilled, and she
held her breath, her eyes wide with fear.

It gnawed at his stomach to see her
react this way. In years’ past, this kind of act would have her demanding him
to clutch her throat.

“I saved you,” he said, giving her a
hard look as Persephone’s eyes welled up with tears.

He inwardly groaned. He could not
handle more crying.

“Adonis hunted you, mutilated your
mind, and locked you away from your family,” Hades hissed, refusing to let her
go.

Her face twisted under his words.

“He got better than he deserved and
if you possessed your memories, you would have commanded all the creatures from
the Underworld to tear him limb from limb and devour him over a thousand
years.”

“Lies!” Persephone screeched. “He
warned me. He said you’d do this! I hate you! I hate you!”

Hades grabbed her throat and squeezed
just enough for Persephone to gasp and clutch his hand with a whimper. “You
will not shed another tear for that man. He does not deserve it.”

Persephone met Hades's hard look with
a scowl, then dropped her hands and grew limp. “Fine,” she whispered. “Choke
me. At least I shall be reunited with my love.”

Hades let her go like she’d scorched
him, staggering back.

Then he looked around the room. From
the fine antique dresser standing in front of the four-poster bed. To the
golden bath in the corner. The variety of fine gowns draped over a leather
chair.

And a thought struck him.

“You’re not ready for this
treatment,” he said, turning back to Persephone. “I’ve been doing this all
wrong, I see that now.”

He caressed her cheek and withdrew
just as she tried to bite him. “Very well, my love. I’ll play your game.”

He waved his hand, and a pair of iron
shackles appeared on Persephone’s wrists.

“What are you doing?” she hissed, as
he brought her roughly to her feet. The gaping neckline of her nightgown fell
down one shoulder, and she stumbled as he urged her toward the door.

“Well, you have made it sparkling
clear that you do not want any of this,” he said, keeping his tone steady even
though his heart was racing. “You think I’m your captor. The evil monster here
to defile you.”

They walked down the winding
corridor, passing hooded men standing in the shadows.

He calmly opened an iron door and
pushed her inside.

Persephone looked around the tiny
cell. It had nothing but a bucket in one corner and a filthy little bed in the
other.

“Is this better?” Hades asked. His
gaze dipped to her chest. “Cold, is it? Well, I’m sure your fond memories of
Adonis will keep you warm.”

Persephone’s face reddened, and she
glared at Hades like he was the most repulsive being in the world.

“Go to hell,” she shouted at him and
spat on the ground at his feet.

Hades spread his arms and grinned,
despite the fact his heart was now bleeding at Persephone’s rejection. “Oh,
but, my dear, don’t you know? We’re already there.”

Then he turned around and slammed the
door behind him, blocking out the sounds of Persephone’s curses.

                                                             
       #

Hades stormed down the dark corridor,
his footsteps echoing off the stone walls. The further he got from Persephone's
cell, the more his resolve crumbled.

Doubt crept into his mind.

Had he done the right thing, locking
her away like a common prisoner?

It felt wrong, unnatural even, to treat his queen in such a manner.

But what choice did he have? She
refused to listen, to remember. Her heart belonged to that wretched Adonis
still.

Hades clenched his jaw, his eyes
burning with barely contained rage. Even in death, that man tormented him,
mocked him. He even turned his own bride against him.

He needed a new plan. Simply waiting
for Persephone's memories to return was proving futile. And trying to force
them to resurface through his desperate acts of love only made her recoil from
him further.

No, the situation required something
more potent. More extreme.

Lost in troubled thoughts, Hades
didn't realize he had wandered all the way to the edge of the River of the Dead
until the eerie green glow of the waters caught his eye.

The whispers of the damned souls
drifting in the current filled his ears, a ghostly chorus of despair. Usually,
it soothed him, but now their moans only agitated his foul mood.

He was about to turn away when a
glimmer in the depths snagged his attention.

Frowning, Hades stepped closer to the
riverbank, peering into the murky waters.

There, caught between two boulders,
something golden shimmered, out of place amid the gloom.

Hades extended his hand, and the
object shot up from the river, landing in his open palm with a smack.

As the moisture sluiced away, a glass
orb appeared in his palm, no bigger than an eyeball. It pulsed with an inner
light.

"What manner of sorcery is
this?" he murmured.

The orb flared brighter in response,
as if reacting to his voice.

On instinct, Hades tightened his
grip, and the orb shattered, shards of glass embedding themselves in his flesh.

Hades cursed, more out of surprise
than pain. But as he watched, the blood was absorbed back into his skin, the
wounds sealing themselves.

The glow from the orb swirled around
his hand like tiny fireflies before sinking into him as well. A foreign energy
thrummed through his veins.

Unnerved, Hades shook out his hand.

He had never felt anything like that
before. It almost reminded him of...but no, that was impossible. The magic of
the sirens held no power in the Underworld.

Unless…

He plucked a speck of light from the
air; it glowed and warmed his palm. Then he waved his right hand over it,
focusing his mind on the elements weaving them in the air to transform to their
original state.

They swirled and grew like a small
tornado of dust, light, and energy. Until the light grew so big and bright
Hades had to shield his eyes.

When the dust settled again and the
light faded, Hades lowered his hand, and his gaze fell on the man standing
before him.

Poseidon stood tall and muscular, his
bronze skin glistening with droplets of water as if he’d just emerged from the
sea.

He blinked and looked around,
disoriented. His sea-green eyes widened when they landed on Hades.
"Brother? What is the meaning of this? Why have you summoned me?”

Hades stared at his hand, then back
at the God of the Sea. "I... I’m not entirely sure. I found this strange
orb in the River of the Dead and when I touched it, this power surged through
me. Then you appeared."

Poseidon frowned, stepping closer to
examine Hades's hand. "Show me."

Hades held out his palm.

The residual glow had faded, but he
could still feel the foreign magic pulsing just beneath his skin.

Poseidon touched a finger to Hades's
lifeline, his brows furrowing.

"This energy...it's ancient.
Powerful." He met Hades's gaze, a rare look of unease in his usually
jovial expression. "I've only sensed this once before. Centuries
ago."

"When?" Hades demanded, a
desperate hope kindling in his chest.

If this power was what he suspected,
then perhaps all hope for him was not lost after all.

Poseidon folded his broad arms and
hummed as he began to pace.

"During the great war, when we
joined with the Norse gods against the Titans. Legend says the Norse gods
poured their magic into their weapons enabling them to destroy…" Poseidon
stopped walking and met Hades's confused look with his eyes wide. "Where
did you find this?"

Hades's eyes narrowed on Poseidon. “I
told you…”

“No,” Poseidon snapped, he shuffled
closer to the water’s edge and pointed into the river. “Where. Where exactly
did you find this?”

Hades stretched out his hand and
aimed his index finger at the two boulders sticking out of the glassy water.
“There.”

Without a beat, Poseidon thrust off
his silver cloak and dove into the water, splashing Hades in the process.

Whispers and faint howling flooded
Hades's ears as souls covered his body like slime, he swiped them off,
commanding them back into the river.

Then his attention returned to
Poseidon who was swimming with purpose. “Need I remind you, brother, that if
you stay in there too long, you will—”

“I’m already dead, Hades.”

Hades paused.

Poseidon, God of the Sea…dead?

Poseidon kept his back to him as he
swam. When he reached the boulders, he grunted, and his shoulders lifted.

Hades shook himself.

No. It’s not possible.

“But who could have killed you?”

Poseidon made a noise of victory, and
he swam back to the edge. As he climbed out, the sinews of his torso were more
pronounced, and his face was gaunt.

Then he brandished a long, steel
spear like a trophy.

“I trust you recognize this symbol.”
He handed the weapon over to Hades.

It was heavy in his hand; the steel
plating was smooth and cool. And when he turned it over, he found another
glowing orb attached to the handle. Then he inspected a scorpion etched on the
blade.

Hades's lungs expelled air as a rush
of ugly memories crossed his mind. His blood boiled as he met Poseidon’s
pointed look. “Are you saying this is the weapon that killed you?”

Poseidon’s brows lifted, and his
mouth tipped into a smirk. “Well, considering the fact that the last thing I
recall is my ribcage splintering as this spear was buried into my chest… I
believe so.”

For the first time Hades could
remember, his blood went cold. “What happened?”

Poseidon looked down, and his eyes
glazed over, as though he was replaying the memory.

“Loki happened,” he finally said.

Hades's worst fear was realized. He
cleared his throat and tried to conceal the concern in his voice. “Do we have a
problem?”

“Do
we have a problem?” Poseidon repeated, his eyes blazing as he met Hades's
stare. “The blasted god rammed a spear into my heart without so much as a
hello, so yes, I believe we do.”

“Why would he kill you?” Hades asked.
“Surely, you must have some idea…”

Poseidon scoffed. “Did you miss the
part where I said that he killed me at first sight? I have no idea why he
killed me. But I’m more concerned about my kingdom. Have any of my sons ended
up here?”

Hades reached out with his mind and
searched the souls of the dead. But then he shook his head. “No. Either Loki
was not interested in them, or they were better at defending themselves.”

Rage crossed Poseidon’s features, but
Hades raised his palms before he could react. “Calm down, brother. I am merely
stating the facts. You did get yourself murdered after all.”

Poseidon’s eyes turned into slits,
and his mouth formed a thin line. “Are you mocking me?”

Hades's lips twitched. “I wouldn’t
dream of it.”

But then he frowned. “A lot of sirens
are down here. The war is turning into a bloodbath.”

Poseidon waved a hand aside. “My
daughters are Isis's problem, and we both know if she wanted them alive, she’d
make it happen.”

Hades studied his brother for a
moment, wondering how a father could care so little about his posterity. But
then he remembered that their absent father was the king of poor parentage,
seemingly disinterested in his children.

Perhaps having a heart of stone ran
in the family.

Hades snapped out of his head when
Poseidon marched off. Hades ran to catch up and found his brother further down
one of the narrow passageways leading to the Land of the Living.

“Where are you going?” Hades shouted.

“I must return to Atlantis,” Poseidon
said, as though it was the most obvious answer in the world.

Hades snorted. “Did you forget, you
are dead? One step into the sunlight, and you will turn back into a wisp.”

Poseidon halted at the archway, a
faint glimmer of sunlight poured in, and he stood just out of its reach. Then
he cursed.

“Bring me back to life,” he said,
turning to growl at Hades.

Though Poseidon was taller than him,
Hades held no fear for his brother. The desperation in his thunderous eyes was
unmistakable. And Hades knew Poseidon’s power was useless in the Underworld.

“You know I cannot do that,” Hades
said. “I am the Nether King. God of the Dead. No one bestowed on me the power
of rebirth.”

Poseidon roared and slammed his fists
against the cave wall with such anger, the ground shook like they were in the
middle of an earthquake.

Hades rolled his eyes. “While I’m
deeply touched by your desire to return to your precious sons, I do have a
suggestion. A rather obvious one if you ask me. I’m surprised you have not
already asked me for the favor.”

Poseidon dragged a hand through his
silvery locks with a huff. “An eternity in the Underworld with you is going to
be nothing short of torture with your senseless rambling… just get to your
point already.”

Hades smiled and folded his arms.
“There is one person who can help you. A person that at one time in history you
were so infatuated with, that you spawned thousands of offspring together.”

Poseidon’s features darkened. “No.”

Hades shrugged. “Do you know of
anyone else who can bring you back from the dead? We both know Dionysus will
not be interested. He still hates you after what you said to him at Hercules's
wedding. Perhaps there’s a Celtic god with resurrection powers that owes you a
favor?”

Poseidon glowered at Hades, who took
great delight in teasing his brother. It provided him with the much-needed
relief from worrying about what he was going to do with Persephone.

But then Poseidon squared his
shoulders and looked down his nose at Hades. “You will help me persuade Isis to
restore me to life.”

Hades's brow cocked. “Oh? And how do
you come to that conclusion? You know I am not known for being particularly
helpful. Not unless there is something for me in return.”

For the first time, Poseidon smiled.
His sudden shift in mood was jarring for Hades, he took a hesitant step back as
his brother leaned in.

“Because I know what happened to
Persephone. I know who is responsible, how to find them, and most importantly…
I know how you can get her back.”

Hades stiffened, searching Poseidon’s
face for a telltale sign that he was bluffing. “Well, you should check your
sources. Because I already know about Adonis, he has already been taken care
of, and Persephone is back home with me.”

He clenched his jaw as Poseidon’s
eerie smile widened. “She is back, but does she remember you? Is she still your
Nether Queen?”

The questions sliced into Hades's
chest.

He inwardly cursed. The blasted god
knew everything.

“Tell me what you know,” Hades
demanded.

But Poseidon was unmoved. Instead, he
rested a heavy hand on Hades's shoulder. “Get Isis to bring me back to life,
and I’ll show you everything you need to know to get your queen back.”