The end of the month arrived, and Mother still refused to let me go, even when Zeus came to escort me. A week went by. I ate little, and slept less. I felt as though I was dying. I didn't know what was wrong. I found myself crying often, weeping silently. Mother was convinced they were tears of relief, but they were tears of pure misery. Finally, Hades himself came to my mother's house to collect me. I watched from the doorway, feeling weak.

"You dare." My mother hissed as he stood before her, unflinching

"Demeter. She is my wife." He said quietly.

She slapped him. "She is my daughter first!"

Hades saw me then, watching them, torn between love and duty for my mother, and what I had begun to realize was love for my husband. He took a step toward me, a hand outstretched. "Persephone. Come with me."

"NO!" Mother stepped between us, her hands outstretched as though she could keep us apart by sheer force of will.

I knew, then, what I had to do.

I stepped forward, and placed my hands gently on my mother's shoulders. "Mother." I said gently, quietly. "I love you. I promise I will return."

And then I placed my hand in Hades', and stepped willingly into his arms for the first time.

Some years I say it was six seeds.