Siromos

            Over the following weeks, Siromos relaxed into a routine with the royal pair. He had placed a hard boundary on any more sexual contact, deciding he wanted to know them better first. The gentle smiles he’d received upon stating so filled his chest until he felt he’d burst. The queen had ordered a bedroom be made out of one of the dens inside the royal suite for him. Every morning, Hades woke first, preparing breakfast and coffee. Siromos woke next, lured by the scent of sustenance. Persephone woke last, hearing the two men chatting in hushed voices.

            The three fell easily in with each other, their behaviours meshing seamlessly. Siromos helped with housekeeping around the suite, regardless of Hades’ protestations. Hades was secretly quite glad for it, as he could finally dismiss the servants from the apartments, giving the three full and mostly uninterrupted privacy. Of course, work still called, and Hades would grudgingly attend his duties.

            Siromos had not regained any of his memories yet and had spoken with Hades regarding them. Hades then realized all of the memories he’d seen with his powers of touch were inaccessible to him. The memories remained, but out of reach. He had seen them, but at some point during the rush of meeting Siromos, they had locked themselves away. His own opinions, and feelings on the memories remained, so he remained sure of his character judgement. He was sure there had to be another hand at play here, pushing pieces and hiding in shadow.

            Siromos woke with a start, hearing a laughter akin to bells float around him. The room was pitch black and silent but for the mysterious voice. He wondered if he should speak to it, but then wondered if that would draw more attention than he wanted. Thankfully, or perhaps not, the voice took the choice from him.

            “You do not cause enough trouble. I had hoped you would be a suitable form of punishment, bringing about anguish, however you are too kind. I should be more careful with that.” The voice mused, soft and decidedly female.

            “Who the fuc—”

            “No. You address me with far more respect than that. I am the one who put you here, and I can take it away just as quick.”

            “Well, then what do I address you as?” Siromos spoke in a tone laden with derision, his eyes narrowed.

            “Mistress,” amusement on her tone, she was all light, “now, I’ll expect better results from you from now on, my chosen champion.”

            “Um, what results? Champion?”

            “Ah, the charm addled your mind. I placed it to keep the king from knowing, but I overestimated your mental prowess it seems.”

            Siromos blinked, looking around the black.

            “You work for me,” the voice grew dark and heavy, a pressure came down upon Siromos’ chest, “you are to ruin the king and queen, you are meant to break them, all by using that sweet and soft body of yours. You can do that, can’t you child? I mean, you do still wish your sister alive and well, don’t you?”

            Siromos couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think as he felt a sword of energy strike his mind. He was assaulted by photo flashes of a short, full figured woman, mousy dirty blonde hair, and rosy cheeks. His sister. It was true, he knew without a doubt, every instinct filled with confirmation.

            “You can’t hurt her, please,” Siromos begged, tears rolling down his cheeks, feeling a sense of already living this moment.  

            “I won’t if you do your fucking job, Champion.”

            The pressure eased in an instant, and Siromos knew the voice had left, though not really. She watched.

Persephone

            She heard the shatter of something, whipping up out of bed. They had a visitor it seemed. She pulled on a lilac silk robe, feeling it flutter about her ankles as she looked over Hades. Her husband slept deeply, entirely unaware of the intruder. Pulling her energy about herself as a cloak, she stepped out of the bedroom, a strange smell permeating the common area of the apartments. It was heavy and thick, floral.

            Persephone couldn’t quite place the flower, strange as she was a walking floral encyclopedia. She heard faint voices coming from Siromos’ room, and she slowly crept closer. The scent was suffocating, crawling inside of her and twisting around in her lungs. She was glad as a goddess she was immortal; however, her concern for Siromos grew. Even if he was dead, things that hurt when alive still hurt, and suffocation was not pleasant.

            He had become quite dear to her the past few weeks. Not just with the way he drew Hades smile out without effort. He was a shining sun, infectiously pure. His voice was always kind and happy. Even during more serious moments, he was summer warmth. As a goddess of fertility, she found herself craving him. Of course, he had explained his boundaries, and she respected that. In fact, she was secretly grateful for his words, knowing she wasn’t ready yet to find out how much more her world could implode.

            Her body, mind, and soul were entirely in tune with her king. Siromos was effortlessly slipping in, pulling at her heartstrings as if he were a master puppeteer. She knew she was falling for him and was truly unsure how it could work. She loved her husband dearly, but could she hold the love for both her husband and this mortal? When it was just lust, that was simple. The body knew what it wanted and was easily sated. The heart had always been a more complex beast.

            As she arrived outside of Siromos’ door, she heard a female voice speaking, and suddenly the strangling scent dissipated as the voice did. She gently knocked at the walnut door, met with silence. A knot of jealousy fisted in her gut, a roiling streak of something ugly and vicious. He wasn’t hers, but by the sky he felt like hers. Her heart had laid a claim without her permission, and to know he possibly entertained someone besides her or her husband… She couldn’t bring herself to knock once more.

            Exclusivity had not been a topic they’d breached, and she refused to be irrational about this. As hot and hard as the jealousy was, she would not be ruled by it. As an adult, he was allowed to do whatever the hell he wanted. She pointedly ignored the way her breath caught, and that she couldn’t pull in a full breath of air. Turning away, she took off to the kitchen. Quietly, she made herself a cup of tea, and walked outside to their private gardens.

            The night-blooming flowers were in their full glory, their tender scent a welcome contrast to the other. They turned to face her as she walked past, greeting her with rustling leaves. Here, she felt peace come back to her. Jealousy was something she hadn’t felt in a very long time, and now it startled her with how striking it was, buried lightning. Perhaps this was different, as it wasn’t the same situation. Hades had been hers, exclusivity discussed and confirmed. She had an outlet for her jealousy, and by god she had enjoyed breaking that weasel.

            They were whispering again. The courtiers spoke in hushed tones, though Persephone still caught each word.

            “He still visits with her. It won’t be long before this one loses to Minthe too.”

            Her teeth ground together, her lips pursing tight. She knew damn well Minthe was spreading those rumors herself, and she knew damn well Minthe only remained at the palace as she was staff. Minthe had constantly harassed her fiancé, and she felt another streak of frustration at that. Hades and she had decided to keep the engagement a secret, knowing her mother would find a way to stop them.

            She was here as a guest, getting real world experience. Her mother had stated Olympus was tainted by Zeus, and so was unfit to house her daughter. Thankfully, this was due to a long conversation between Hades and Demeter. Persephone was unsure of the words between them, but finally she had arrived in the underworld.

            “She’s not even that pretty. I bet she doesn’t put out, and that’s why he’s still seeing Minthe.”

            Coals burned hot and dark within her, filling her with a rage she had never felt so vivid. First, for Hades to allow these rumors, and second, for Minthe. Minthe was some nymph that her fiancé had associated with prior to her. Now, she was out of his bed, but couldn’t seem to get it through her thick skull that it was permanent.

            “I bet she’s just pretending she’s a goddess. She hasn’t even used her supposed powers. How are we supposed to know if such a plain looking girl is really a goddess. Probably just some river nymph the king met while visiting his brother.”

            Hades needed to shut this shit down before she did. Persephone was not being guided by the right emotions to handle this in her stereotypically gentle manner.

            “You think? I don’t know if she’s pretty enough to have been anywhere near Poseidon’s court.”

            She looked to her fiancé, who seemed not to hear a word spoken. He sat on his throne, lounging, sexy as hell. She sat away from him, to the side, but still on the dais as an honored ‘guest.’ The courtiers milled about, and she seethed. Well, her deaf fiancé wasn’t going to get it done, so she would. It was not going to be pretty, and that was a promise.

            “Persephone?” A gruff voice came from the open garden door, startling her from her thoughts. She shook her head of the poisonous cobwebs of emotion.

            “Siromos?” She called in confirmation.

            “Yeah, can’t sleep?”

            “No.” Her voice was curt.

            “Me neither. Mind if I join you?”

            “Go ahead, though I’m not in the best of moods at the moment.”

            “Ah, me neither.” Siromos stepped close and offered his arm to her, which she took. As if she could refuse touching him. The two walked deeper into the garden, dappled moonlight showing their way.

            “It’s a mild night. These are my favourite.” Persephone called up some idle chatter, wanting to distract herself from the cords that flexed in Siromos’ forearms and who else’s hands might have been touching them.

            “Yeah. I have a question.” His scratchy voice made her tingle, and she took a moment to respond, not wanting to drool.

            “Go ahead.”

            “If someone you loved was held in harms way, and you had to do something bad, something you didn’t want to, what would you do?”

            “Well, that’s certainly a question,” Persephone thought a moment, pulling the two to a stop under a weeping willow tree, “I believe the situation depends on specifics. What person I love, and what is the bad thing, does it involve harm to others?”

            “I can’t tell you.” Siromos’ sounded as if he were choking on the words. Persephone made a ponderous noise and took a seat on the grass, leaning back against the trunk of the tree.

            “If this were Hades, I would do anything, no matter how bad. In fact, I’ve already done many terrible things for him. Now, if it were anybody else, say friends or family… It depends on if this bad thing causes harm to others or just me. I’m assuming bad means harmful, am I correct?”

            “Yes, you are… It’s something harmful to others,” Siromos’ voice was uncharacteristically sombre as he took the spot next to her.

            “Hm. I wouldn’t. I would destroy whatever the harm is, and make sure all of existence knew to not fuck with me or my loved ones.” Siromos barked out a surprised laugh at Persephone’s words.

            “I’m a mortal though, Persy.” His voice quickly softened, becoming serious once more, “and as a mortal, I can only access mortal options.”

            “You forget that I am not, and I can help. I care for you, Siro.”

            “… I care for you too, Persy.” His eyes slowly lifted to meet hers, and she couldn’t resist a moment longer.

            Even if another had been in his arms, even if this shouldn’t happen, even if she should be prying more information out. She couldn’t help the way her body fell towards him, magnetically dragged. Her lips needed his, and she was pleased to realize his needed hers as well once they met. Soft and unhurried, he lifted her into his lap, and she straddled him, no thought for modesty.

            Twining her arms around his neck, she ran her fingers through his hair. Their breaths mingling, lips pressed tight. His hands squeezed at the soft flesh of her hips, roaming over the silk of the robe. He was both soft and hard, rough and kind. The contradiction was intoxicating. Siromos seemed to need her as much as she needed him in this moment. She needed to make her mark on him. He was hers, and that was something to be made clear. Surrounded by the heady night-blooms, the moon calling to her, she let herself go.