For @sybarite

[underworldsock]

How long has it been since he's braved the height of summer? Hades isn't too sure, but he's soon reminded as to why he had not. The sun sits high and bright in the midday sky, and while it lights up the idyllic lavender fields of the French countryside, he finds himself ill-adapted for it. Creatures of below have never fared well in direct sunlight and he's getting a crash course as to why.

The heat is oppressive, and the light too bright for his eyes accustom to darkness. Squinting does little. Neither does peeling off his jacket, rolling his sleeves up to his forearms, or loosening his collar. He had picked out a suit that morning as per normal custom, but now he regrets that decision in its entirety. His dark curls are starting to stick to the back of his neck, and even his pallid skin is starting to take a little color.

He should be miserable, he thinks, but even against the stifling heat, he finds himself only feeling a quickening of his heartbeat. Is it anticipation? Excitement maybe? It's akin to the first time he had waited (hoped) for her to return below. It hasn't been so long since he's seen her face, but the loneliness that had followed spring's arrival (or departure, as it were) had been more than he had felt in a long time. It was what prompted this whole trip.

He finds her finally outside, of course, the laissez-faire attitude of the French countryside suiting her well. The sun has bronzed her skin and her hair hangs in loose waves down her back. She's dressed light (obviously, his wife is much smarter than himself), and he wouldn't be surprised if she were barefoot. It's far past spring now, technically speaking, but she still is in the height of her element. He cannot yet see her face, but she just seems happy. There's a fleeting moment of doubt that maybe he shouldn't disturb her, but he's come all this way, he hardly feels the desire to back off now.

Even with no real shadow to hide him, he still can approach her in secrecy. He may not have brought the helm, but he's been the Unseen One since birth. Maybe though, their centuries of marriage has prevented him from fully surprising her. Maybe she notices before he brushes his fingers over the warm, bared skin of her arm; before he bends and presses his lips to her temple.

"Haven't you learned not to pick flowers alone?"

Comments

[underworldsock]

His hum should be answer enough for her, but he nods to give her some peace of mind. Truthfully, there's always things to attend to down below, but he has found some ways to slip away over the years. Even if it's only for a too warm afternoon.

"It's busy," he admits, because she'd find out anyways, and he's not in the habit of lying to her. "But it will be okay. I'll be back before it gets too late."

There's a rueful note to admitting to it, but they both know he can never stay long. Still, the way he cards his hand through her hair is almost an apologetic gesture.

"They miss you, you know."

[sybarite]

"I don't doubt it," she murmurs, swaying slightly in his embrace as if she'd rather they were dancing with the breeze of the afternoon as their only accompaniment. "You'll give Cerberus lots of pets from me, of course?" She knows he will. That's why he's the best husband she could ever ask for.

[underworldsock]

"Yes, yes."

Both the cool breeze and the sway of her body against his are fine distractions from the scorching heat of the open field. Slowly, she coaxes him to sway with her, even if he can't hear the music in the air quite like she can. His hands run over her shoulders, down her arms until he can take both of her hands.

"So why France this time?" He asks, sparing only a glance to the lavender fields.

The few times he's managed to pull himself away from the relentless demands of the Underworld, he's always found her somewhere new. That hasn't completely surprised him -- she does have the world at her fingertips -- but there's something about the quiet nature of the French countryside that seems particularly nostalgic. He tilts his head, looking to her for an answer.

[sybarite]

"Because it reminds me of the past," she answers, looking out into the distance. "Sure, there are telephone lines and cars, but the fields themselves have hardly changed at all. I like stepping back in time. Not always, but sometimes it's nice to remember what the world was. Then you can see how it turned into what it is." Her eyes meet his.

"And I find that very nice."

[underworldsock]

"All the past reminds me of, is how old I've become," Hades scoffs, shaking his head.

He still squeezes her hands in affection, then uses them to pull her closer and wrap her arms around his waist. Now free, one of his hands moves to tilt her chin, where he stoops down to finally taste her lips. He kisses her longer than he means to, but doesn't regret it in the slightest. He's truly missed her these last few months.

"You are sentimental, my dear."

[sybarite]

Persephone smiles against his mouth, eager to express her love for him as well as just how much she's missed him in return. When they part, she hums a happy note of contentment.

"That's not such a bad thing, is it? I can't recall you ever complaining before."

She's teasing, as she's quite sure he's never complained about anything she's done ever in all the time she's been his Queen. He isn't the type to see fault in her, even when she sees it in herself.

[underworldsock]

"It's not," he confirms, amusement still playing at the corners of his mouth. "Within reason."

Sentimentality isn't exactly a valued trait in the fatalistic courts of the Underworld. Hades himself has never found much use for it, but seeing it in his wife, he can hardly find fault. He values her opinions far too much for that, although perhaps, her opinion on him is too high sometimes.

"Really? You cannot recall me ever complaining?"

[sybarite]

"I never said that," she replies as she goes up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "Based on the context, I was saying I've never heard you complain about me being sentimental before." But complaining in general? Well, the god of the Underworld had to deal with a lot of annoyances when it came to dealing with the souls of the dead. Persephone isn't here to judge.