Author’s notes:
1) Thanks go out to Melora Maxwell, whose own Hades-Persephone story “I Won’t Say it” inspired me to go back and re-write my similar Hades-Persephone story. I originally wrote this story back in 1999 (year of The Phantom Menace! I digess…) when I was 14, so I’ve fleshed it out a bit now. If you’ve read Melora’s story (if you haven’t, please do so) you’ll go on to think that mine’s a little too similar. If you want to think that I copied, you can, but I cross my heart that I haven’t – some things were just blind coincidence, and I’m a lil freaked out about that. I’ve done my best to make things as different as they can be without totally trashing my original fic.
2) During speech (stuff between these thingies: “ and” ) you may see things written between these: [ and ]. This implies things that happen during speech that aren’t spoken.
3) All characters are © Disney, except my Persephone (we’ll call her Seph 2 seeing as Melora owns the first one round here! ) and any other characters I may make up along the way. I do what I want with all the characters - official or not. I’m making no money from this, so no one can stop me! Mwa ha ha! … Well, maybe they could stop me, so I’ll shut up!
4) Some of this story has been lifted from the myth of Persephone and Demeter (or Proserpine and Ceres for the Roman version), so you may see some references. But to fit with the Disney Hades and my own personal feelings and wishes, I change it when it’s convenient for me, so i.e., a lot!
5) The story is set after the Hercules film, possibly about a year later.
The Daughter of Demeter
Based on the characters from Disney’s “Hercules” film & TV show
Hades had never been known for his good temper.
After a good while churning about his own Well of Souls, in the depths of Tartarus, he had finally managed to climb out, exhausted and far from content. But to make matters worse, once his return was announced, he had suffered a huge rebuking at the hands of his brother and overlord, Zeus (it had given new meaning to the term ‘smite’). And then having had to return straight back to work, taking care of the backlog of things to do that had piled up in his absence as well as the day-to-day Underworld businesses… well, things were far from peaceful for him.
He had forgotten what good temper was.
But many said that he had gotten what was coming to him for even attempting to think of conquering Olympus, and overthrowing the Gods. Hades begged to differ, although his reasons were of a nature that he’d never dare reveal – he was a God with a rep. (and a scorned one at that) and to reveal things such as ‘ruling the Underworld was depressing, and made one unhappy and/or lonely’ would do nothing but add scorn and ridicule to his name. He could hack his life, but he was pretty darned sure that most of the other Gods wouldn’t be able to – they called him without having any knowledge of what it was like to rule the Underworld alone.
Days blur into weeks when you don’t see the sun, the stars or the moon. It was quite some time until Hades received his first live visitor to his domain since he had returned, from Hermes, the Messenger God. He was hardly a welcome guest, though…
Chapter 1Stood on the small quay near to his citadel, at the Underworld’s core, Hades watched as Charon, the ferryman of the Underworld, unloaded his next shipment of souls from his boat that floated upon the Styx. The souls glided along the dock in a gloomy manner (so is the manner of being dead…), heads hung low and arms dangling lifelessly. Stood behind their master were the two Imps, Pain and Panic. They held a pair of clipboards and noted down basic statistics on the new arrivals.
Suddenly, Cerberus began barking tremendously in the distance.
Hades had been in a foul mood ever since he had crawled out from the whirlpool of souls, and once he heard his dog’s voice, he merely looked down the river Styx from under a ferocious frown, his hair crackling in the silence. Pain and Panic peered from behind Hades, trying to see who had disturbed their master’s tri-cranial guard dog.
The intruder started off as a speck in the distance, soaring through the air. After several seconds, the entity began to become clearer. The air whistled as the flying object disturbed it, whizzing passed. Soon, a glow became distinguishable about the visitor’s form.
It was Hermes.
Hades’ brow remained deeply furrowed – Hermes was the last being – never mind God – that he wanted to see right now. Next to Zeus, of course.
Pain and Panic continued swiftly with their work once Hades gave them a quick – and wrathful – glance, noticing that they had stopped writing. He then walked toward the end of the dock to meet the Messenger God.
Hermes slowed to an abrupt halt before the flaming deity; “Hades, babe, long time no see!” he smiled light-heartedly. He hovered before the Underworld God on his winged sandals, staring at him through his pink-tinted glasses.
You could at least count on Hermes to approach everyday with a fresh, open mind. Hermes didn’t hold grudges for long, if at all, and even after all Hades had done, he figured that he couldn’t stay angry with him for eternity (which is how long he, Hades and the rest of the Gods would live) – it was too much hard work!
Besides, he figured that Hades had had enough punishment to sway him never to pull such an outrageous stunt again…
Hades silently continued to scowl at the cheerful God, his continuing rotten mood more than obvious. If he opened his mouth, Hades’ swore that he would not be responsible for the carnage that would flow out.
Hermes waited a few seconds, then, getting the idea that Hades wasn’t prepared to speak to him, went on, “Well, Hades, “ he continued in a more subtle tone, “Came to deliver you a message, as is my duty…”
Hermes produced a small scroll from his robes, bound by red ribbon.
Eyeing it carefully, Hades snatched it quickly from Hermes’ thin hands, then rapidly tore it open and skim-read it.
He finally opened his mouth, “Harvest Festival celebrations…” he snarled in disgust, glaring hard at Hermes. Hermes was unmoved, and waited patiently as Hades continued to read the scroll.
“Venue: Cloud Nine?” he read aloud, in a questioning tone.
Hades’ lip raised in even more revulsion, “Hermes, my man, I know I trashed Olympus a lil and tried to take it over, yadda, yadda, yadda… but, gees, c’mon, I’m not gonna pose that much of a threat that you have to move the venue of Demeter’s precious Harvest celebrations to Cloud Nine!”
He said ‘Harvest Celebrations’ in something of a snide tone – he thought Demeter’s work was over-rated. She was the Goddess of plants and the seasons, and particularly associated with Corn. And the Mortals loved her, worshipping her for the ‘glorious Harvests’ she sent every year.
He never got praised for the work he did – mortals barely dared speak his name, and if he got any offerings it was one measly black-coated sheep! He couldn’t even remember the last time some mortal had offered him anything in thanks.
They’d all be in trouble if he took a day off, mind… Demeter could take half a year’s vacation, and everything on Earth would still be hunky and dory. It was so not fair.
Hermes made a nervous laugh, “Chill Hades,” he grinned weakly, holding his hands up in gesture, “It’s not for that reason…”
Hades made a faint grin in return, registering Hermes’ tense tone, “Come again?” he asked irritably, not sure what Hermes was on about.
“Well, it’s a funny story, ya see…” the Messenger God continued, trailing into an abrupt stop, not wishing to share the details.
Hades wasn’t satisfied with that, though.
“Really?” Hades smiled, as if talking to a child, before changing his tone as he got increasingly angry, “Well, I’d appreciate if you filled me in! I don’t have all day for you, Hermes! This God [he at this point, gestured toward himself] has a full time job to do!”
He lost his temper and erupted into flames.
Hermes saw just how short a fuse Hades was on, “It isn’t important…” he calmly added, fiddling with his small golden staff, “I can only say that one Fire God ['i.e., Hephaestos’, Hades mentally noted] and a bowl of ambrosia were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and the heavens haven’t recovered yet… I can’t say anything else.”
Hades face froze in a blank expression, mouth a little agape – whatever had happened, he had no idea how it could have been so destructive. They have cloud furniture on Olympus, for Zeus’ sake!
“So,” Hermes continued, looking back to Hades, and returning to the original subject,” Can I count you present, babe?”
‘Again with the babe!’ Hades cursed in his mind, gritting his sharp teeth together in his mouth before composing himself and grinning snidely at the Messenger God, “Like, do I have a choice, ‘babe’?” he snarled, his voice highly pitched and saturated with sarcasm.
Hermes was too well accustomed with Hades’ curt manner to be bothered by his attitude, “See you then, Hades…” Hermes nodded in parting. He then turned and flew away, back out to the Earth’s surface above.
Hades watched Hermes go until he was out of sight, hearing Cerberus bark a little after him. A few seconds of pure silence passed. Panic sneezed. Hades ignored him – if he heard him at all. His mind was elsewhere.
“Peachy…” Hades growled in a thunderous rage, beginning to glow.
Pain and Panic watched their master, and knew the signs of an imminent explosion on Hades’ behalf. They propped up their clipboards on the floor and curled up tightly behind them, using them as emergency fire shields.
“Just flaming peachy!” he yelled, bursting into flames, and sending them everywhere. Charon ducked down in his boat, and the souls – though unaffected – stared at Hades in shock, eyes wide.
The flames of his rage subsided. Hades continued to breathe deeply, recovering from his outburst.
Pain and Panic peered above their clipboards.
“I like Harvest Festival,” Pain whispered to Panic whilst still behind his clipboard, and whilst Hades’ back was turned to them.
“Ditto…” Panic nodded in return.
Hades turned and looked down to the two hiding Imps, “Sorry boys, did you say something?” he snapped, hearing their mumbling.
“No boss!” Panic rapidly replied, crouching further down in submission behind his board.
“Good,” the Underworld Lord sneered back, his eyes filled with wrath.
He stormed by them, not in the mood to even smite the two.
Pain saw his cue:
“Coffee, your flamefulness?” he asked politely, holding his board chest-level just in case, as Panic quickly noted down the stats on the last passing soul from Charon’s shipload.
“Make it strong, boys…” Hades replied with a sigh, returning to his citadel to do his usual pre-Harvest Festival brooding, “I’m gonna need it…”
To be continued…