Hades

III. Heather Lavendar

After their first heart to heart, the pair of goddesses grew closer and closer. Centuries flew by in the blink of their immortal eyes. They spent endless days guiding mortals into farmer-hood, continuing to spread their teachings of harvest and food. Often accompanied by nymphs, Persephone grew more into her role as the Goddess of Spring. Under her care, Spring became its own entity, separate from her mother's orderly cycles of life and death. As summers slipped into falls, and falls into brief, mild winters, Persephone would retreat to her own temples. She'd continue to perfect her own capabilities, honing in on faster reflexes and strong senses. Then, when it came time for Spring, Persephone would set about bringing in gentle rains and beautiful flowers. Her Spring was always wild and the only thing that remained constant from year to year was the eventual transition into her mother's lively summers. In her spare time, Persephone continued to enjoy her fields with her attendants, eventually finding her own sanctuary not far from her mother's temple. Whether nymphs or blessed priestesses, the one thing Demeter made sure was that Persephone was never alone. 

High above the fields on Earth, Hera sat on her golden throne and watched her husband and sister's daughter with mild scorn. The Queen of Olympus could not directly punish either parent, as they were both more powerful in their domains: Zeus in the sky and Demeter in her fields and temples. However, Hera was also quite sly. After all, why torment Persephone if she could get Demeter to do it for her?

So, the Queen of Gods approached Deimos, son of Ares and Aphrodite and the embodiment of terror. 

"Deimos, son of Ares, help me."

"With what, Majesty?" replied the minor deity.

"Just the usual," Hera replied nonchalantly, "fan the flames of fear into full blown terror."

The god of terror was confused. None of the Olympians, besides his father, ever approached him for anything. After all, he was merely a spirit, his father's charioteer when Eris was unavailable. Though not the brightest god, Deimos was not completely blind to Hera's need for him. 

"What will you give me, Majesty?" he questioned bravely. 

Hera's gray eyes flash, and her infamous fury reared its head: "You dare question me? I am the Queen of the Gods! You're just my son's replacement charioteer. I should've known better to seek aid from any of his worthless spawn. You will help me because your Queen demands it."

Almost as an afterthought and with her fury seemingly gone, Hera added: "Although, consider Eris's golden apple yours, if you help me."

Deimos, pleased at the thought of angering the Goddess of strife, agreed:

"Alright, Majesty. What would you like me to do?"

Hera's red lips lifted into a cruel smirk: "Demeter fears my plans for her daughter. Make her terrified."

Before the sun set, Deimos was already on his way to Demeter's temples. Disguised as a young shepherd who was about to set his flock loose on the sacred grain, he began to approach Persephone and her attendants. Subconsciously, they drifted further away from their charge, as if sensing the approaching man's intimidating aura. 

Soon enough, Persephone was alone and alert. She whirled around, only to find a handsome young shepherd armed with only a wooden staff. 

"Do you know where you are, young man?" she asked. 

"No miss," replied the disguised Deimos. "All the lands in my village were taken and there was no place for my flock."

Persephone, kind as always, took pity on the man. "Very well, sir. You are standing on the sacred fields of Demeter and Persephone. No man has ever dared to take his flock past Artemis's woods, and yet here you are. Come, walk with me."

Having sensed a strange, yet intangible quality about the handsome stranger, Persephone was eager to see just what kind of man would dare let his sheep graze on sacred fields. She led the disguised Deimos through Demeter's fields, past some of her mother's temples and into her own sanctuary. They followed the twisting brook and greeted water nymphs and oak dryads along their journey. Finally, Persephone and her man reached a quiet, sparkling lake. On the rocks nearby, and of course, under the watchful eye of the resident lake nymph, Persephone seated herself and gestured for her companion to do so as well.  

"You haven't introduced yourself yet, good sir," Persephone said, initiating the conversation. 

Deimos smiled, "You have not either, m'lady."

"Very well," Persephone said, blushing from inexperience and unused to anything less than a direct response, "my companions call me Kore."

Deimos, true to his nature as the child of a love goddess, gladly pressed his advantage as the one with more experience: "Well, my innocent little Kore, my companions call me Deimon."

Persephone's ears tinged red, unaccustomed to the vulgar implications of the man's words. However, she did not lose her wits at the sight of Deimos's false, but pretty, face. "You have some nerve, you know, venturing into and beyond Artemis's woods. Every Greek mother warns her sons never to enter her ladyship's woods, lest they end up a stag like Actaeon. She is the Goddess of the Hunt, and she is known to detect all strangers, and well, certainly a man and his flock of sheep are strange enough. Tell me really, Deimon, who are you?"

Deimos was at a loss. Short of Athena, he'd never encountered a woman who'd been able to see past his mortal guises. 

"Alright," he chuckled, "you've caught me. I'm not really a shepherd. That doesn't explain your presence though, either. You're not dressed as a priestess, and you said it yourself, Artemis would've sensed you as a foreigner the moment you entered her Woods."

Able to take the hint, Persephone relented: "Alright, I'll let you keep your secrets as long as I keep mine."

Deimos smiled at the irony of Persephone's statement. After all, he knew who she was. 

They continued to talk, perched on those rocks in front of the pristine lake, late into the early evening. By then, even the vigilant nymphs had been convinced that Persephone was in no danger that she couldn't handle without her mother. However, when Persephone turned to leave, Deimos, staring directly into the lake nymph's eyes, briefly flashed his true godly form as the embodiment of terror. The nymph's eyes widened in absolute shock and horror as she realized who'd just spent the entire afternoon with Demeter's daughter. 

When the pair reached Demeter's temple, Persephone turned to greet her mother and retire for the night. With only Demeter's eyes on him, Deimos revealed himself once more, in all his terrifying glory. His achingly handsome face, complete with hair as black as night, endlessly soulless eyes, bushy eyebrows, and gloating smirk greeted Demeter's shocked and furious face. 

"PERSEPHONE, YOU FOOLISH GIRL! Do you not know whose company you've been keeping? That man is here to tear you away from me! He is here to destroy your innocence and steal your hand in marriage! Hera might have even sent him! You stupid girl. You didn't even bother demanding he reveal his true form to you as Terror!" 

Persephone was shocked by her mother's outburst. It wasn't as if she hadn't spent time with other men before, though those relationships were strictly that of worshiper and goddess. She had grown used to her freedom, and listening to her mother's hurtful words was a breaking point. Demeter had already grown more protective of her, often forcing her to keep company of a tight circle of nymphs, but berating her in front of a stranger? That was unacceptable to Persephone. 

"HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT MOTHER?" Persephone screamed back, "How can you say such hurtful things in front of my new friend? You never let me have any freedom anymore! It always comes back to Hera this and Hera that! When will you accept that I can defend myself against whatever stupid plan she has? It's been centuries and nothing has happened!" 

Deimos's smug smile only further riled up Demeter. Demeter couldn't believe her own daughter would dare defy her like this, especially in front of another god. 

BOOM. Demeter's sacred dove statue fell right in front of Persephone's face. Though doing nothing more than frighten her, Deimos's presence amplified the fear, and Persephone erupted. Vines shot out of the ground, grabbing the statue and flinging it far away into the distance. Tears ran down her cheeks as she turned to face her mother. 

"I can't believe you still think you can scare me into doing what you want. I'm not a child anymore, and I don't want or need your protection!"

With that, Persephone stormed out of the temple, leaving Demeter in shock and Deimos happily dreaming about a certain golden apple. Demeter's furious eyes turned on him, but before she could release her rage, the god disappeared into a wisp of black smoke and bone-chilling laughter. 

Somewhere far below, Demeter's fallen dove statue crashed, with vines still attached, into the Underworld Palace's throne room, right in front of two thrones. While one was empty, from the other, a silent figure rose. Unfazed by nearly everything, Hades, the God of the Underworld finally turned his eyes towards the surface.