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]

"Is that so?"

Amusement colors his usually dry tone. Hades can think of a few people who might disagree with her, but he's not exactly concerned with their opinions. What matters is that he can hear the smile in her voice, and that he hadn't misjudged in coming up to meet her. The slightest of quirks comes to his own lips, and he pulls her back until her feels her pressed to his chest.

"That's not how the story goes."

There have been many stories of them over the years, so many that Hades almost doubts his own hazy memories of that day, though none of them really encompass the truth. Not that he has to tell her that, but it amuses him further to tease her about it.

"You're putting a lot of faith in that my intentions are good, my Lady."

[sybarite]

"Oh, then should I not have faith in you?" Persephone places a hand over his as she teases back. "That might be a challenge for me."

The stories have changed and morphed over the years to suit the human race and whatever lessons they wish to pull from the tale. The thing that frustrates her the most is that she's always painted as the innocent victim; too naive to know what she was getting into. As if she didn't want to go. As if she didn't shove the seeds in her mouth because it was finally her choice.

She sways a little in his hold before plucking at his shirt sleeve with finger and thumb.

"You're overdressed for the countryside, my dear."

[underworldsock]

"And I'm suffering for it," Hades says.

One did not survive the Underworld without becoming at least a little over-dramatic.

To say he was getting overheated though, was not an understatement. To have his wife again in his arms momentarily distracted him from the sun hanging high overhead, (is Helios laughing at him?) but Hades can already feel the flush coming over his checks. He's not built for heat, and to the embarrassment of his Mediterranean blood, he might even burn.

He takes a step back, arm now firmly tucked around his wife's waist.

"Have pity and take me to the shade?" He asks, taking another step back. "Or I might have to throw you over my shoulder and haul you down below."

[sybarite]

"And start a war? I think not." Her mother would do far worse to the world than bring it winter if Hades broke the rules and took Persephone back before it was time. Giving him a mildly chastising look, she picks up her basket and slips her hand into his.

"This way. There's this lovely willow tree that will oblige us with its shade."

[underworldsock]

A frown crosses Hades' face, though it may be more accurate to say: Hades' customary frown returns, as she slips his grasp and makes for a cooler spot. As much as he wants to flee to the shade, he uses her new hold on his hand to pull her back towards him.

"I'm not afraid of your mother," he says, facing her for the first time, although the direct light is certainly unflattering. "But I wouldn't...You know that."

He doesn't have to say it, he knows that, but maybe it's an excuse to cup his free hand against her face and run his thumb over her cheek. (A little assurance never hurt anyone.)

"Persephone."

[sybarite]

Now Persephone feels a little foolish for her reaction. Perhaps it's ingrained in her to always be naive; to always take words at face value and nothing else, because as a goddess of spring, she represents the new, the innocence, the growth of things. She wonders idly why she never seems to grow the way the sturdy trees do. She's more like a flower that blooms beautiful for a season before retreating back down to start anew again next year.

"I do," she says, a frown tugging at her lips. No where near as natural on her as it is on him, but it's there. "I just forgot for a moment and didn't realize you didn't mean it." Her head tilts better into his hand and her eyes search his face. When they're back in his realm, she feels so much more mature. She feels every ounce the Queen she is. Up here she exchanges the crown for a wreath of flowers or a straw hat and her mind reverts to that Persephone of long ago.

"You'll get overheated if we stay out in the sun," she continues, wishing to put the moment in the past.

[underworldsock]

She isn't the only one to feel out of sorts in the upper realm. Hades huffs, drops his hand, albeit reluctantly, and looks away from her direct gaze. She doesn't need to get too long a look at the dark circles under his eyes, or the threads of gray in his hair. A moment later, he has to roll his eyes at his own foolishness. He looks at her to her with a force attempt to be less sour.

"It's my own fault," he still grumbles, but the way he squeezes her hand is meant to have more assurance, at least.

Now he's pulling her towards the trees.

"But you are right, my love, and I don't intend to suffer for it any longer."

[sybarite]

A warm breezes brushes past the pair, ruffling their hair as she gently smiles up at him. They can just consider it forgotten, though she wishes he wouldn't beat himself up over it. Yet it's as much a part of him as being naive is a part of her.

Falling in step beside him, they walk along the field of flowers until they reach a small copse with leaves rustling in the breeze. Reaching out, she touches the trunk of a willow tree and the shadows they stand in deepen as new leaves grow to completely block out the sun and give the lovers a cool retreat.

"There. Much better, don't you think?"

It took me the longest time to realize that said 'copse' not 'corpse,' so...

[underworldsock]

"Much," he agrees, glancing up to her quick work.

Despite Hades' disposition to be grumpy, his wife always manages to coax him back into better humor. Her kindness still surprises him, even now, and frankly, the effortless way she wields her power, even in minor form, is always attractive to him. His thumb runs over hers in gratitude, as his lips twitch and threaten something like a smile.

"I'm not interrupting you from..."

He gestures back to her fields, unsure quite what he wants to call it. Her work? Her duty? Time away from doom and gloom? His look turns his inquisitive as he cocks his head.

"I can wait."

lol i had copse of trees then realized that was redundant and shortened it

[sybarite]

"Oh no, not at all." She sets her basket down and gestures to the lavender within. "Just comparing some samples with others I've taken from neighboring fields. I want to make sure everything's coming along all right." She doesn't find it to be particularly skilled work, but then again the plants and soil are something she inherently knows as she knows herself. Humans have to take courses on studying soil, but it's a part of her being.

"I'd rather let the flowers wait than you." Persephone rests her hands lightly against his chest and grins up at him. He's been sorely missed and she wants to show him just how much.

[underworldsock]

"That's a dangerous offer," says the god who will always negotiate for one more day before spring.

Something has relaxed in his form though, as Hades takes her face in her hands and stoops to place a kiss to her forehead. By the fates, has he missed her, even in their misunderstandings. His cheek comes to rest against her hair with a content sigh. The angle may be too close to tell, but he's grinning back at her, in his own crooked way.

"That's also humor," he clarifies.

His dry tone could be mistaken for another round of his overly literal nature, but the tease is unmistakable, as is his fondness. For one thing, his thumb is stroking across her check again. For another, he's nearly instinctively leaning into her touch.

"This summer has seemed long enough already though."

[sybarite]

"Ah," she says, her smile growing so wide that she had to bite her lip a moment to bring it back down. "Noted." Her hands slide around to his back, splaying across his shoulder blades. The day's heat is still clinging to the fabric of his shirt, but she's sure this shade will do him good and he'll be back to himself in no time.

"I'm sorry it's felt so." To her it feels natural and though she thinks of him everyday, this is the world she first sprung into fully formed and that means no matter what, she'll always share a connection to it. "How are things at home? Will things be all right with you being here?" Persephone is aware that he can't spend the summer here with her. He has work to do.

[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.