Hades

II. Carnation

As the years passed by, Persephone's sense of self grew more and more. However, her mother's own need to protect her also grew. As Persephone's skills as a bringer of life sprang forward, so did her maturity as a woman. Even a blind man could see Persephone's longing for adventure, freedom and romance. She'd often spend longer periods of time within Artemis's woods, watching Helios glide across the sky and wonder what it would feel like to be with him and watch the Earth pass by below. She'd sit by the streams and fantasize about the vast oceans of Poseidon's domain. Perhaps, she'd sit and sing with the sirens, or maybe she'd ride atop the mighty Pegasus. 

For her part, Demeter was not wholly unaware of her daughter's longing for adventure. So long as Persephone was accompanied by her nymphs or the Goddess of Harvest herself, she was allowed to wander the open fields of grain and grass. Unlike Persephone however, Demeter did not understand why Persephone wanted to see the rest of the world. In her eyes, the Earth was too scarred, too damaged, and most of all, too dangerous, for her innocent daughter. It was better for Persephone to remain within the sacred gardens and temples and to meet only with her cousin goddesses. 

Even as Persephone reached her century of being, she finally worked up her courage to ask for freedom from her nymph handmaidens. 

"Mother, I've already reached a hundred years old. Surely it's time for you to allow me to work on my own. I'm the Goddess of Spring, after all."

"No child," Demeter replied, "You're still far too vulnerable. Sure, you can call forth the powers of life and growth, but what good would that do in the face of a lusty male? Your trees are only as strong as the bronze blade of an axe or the heat of a lick of flame."

Indignantly, Persephone replied: "Surely a divine oak won't be easily struck down by a mere mortal! Even if it were a god, no one would dare incur your wrath! You're the Goddess of Harvest, of Life itself! Mortals need you. Surely the other deities understand that their worshipers depend on your generosity."

Demeter smiled at her daughter's surprising foresight. "Darling girl, your foresight is perhaps your greatest trait. You can see those connections, others may not be as smart. After all, they haven't spent hours playing chess with Athena. Besides, not every god is as loving as you are. Some don't stop to consider their mortal followers. After all, all mortals die, and there's no point caring about their well-being if they're going to go to Hades anyway. Taking a ripe goddess may be worth the wrath her mother brings to their mortal followers. And, make sure you don't let Zeus or his brothers hear your words. I'm merely an Olympian, but he's the King of Gods, and he will not take kindly to your childish musings about power."

Persephone, for all her naivete, could still recognize the underlying causes of her mother's denial: fear. 

"Tell me, mother. Why are you really refusing to let me live alone? Your fears center around a male taking my innocence, but your attempts at justifications are halfhearted, as if you're more afraid that I'd be willing to let them. You've seen my trees and vines, my strength and agility. You know they rival the twins'. There's something else that you're not telling me."

Demeter sighed, realizing that one day, she'd have to tell her daughter about Hera's threat. 

"I suppose nothing can get past you, Persephone. You are right, of course. When you were just a babe, before you could remember anything, Hera gave you a rather... ah... interesting gift, about your future as a wife."

Demeter's eyebrows furrowed as she recalled the day that led to all of her current fears and her unwillingness to let Persephone out of the sight of one her trusted nymphs. Persephone, on the other hand, was curious about what the Queen of the Gods had to do with Demeter's protectiveness. 

Demeter continued: "I haven't told you everything there is to know about those gifts that the Olympians gave you. Your father was not some mere minor god. Zeus is your father, and he forced himself on me."

"Pardon?" Persephone's eyes widened as her mother revealed her true parentage and the nature of her birth. 

"Is that why Hera's involved?" Persephone grew breathless as her imagination of her mother's sister's involvement. "What exactly did Hera give me that gives you such a fright? Surely she knows better than to incur your wrath. You didn't even do anything wrong! Her husband r***d you! You reign over all that gives life to the very mortals whose bonds are sacred to her!"

Demeter laughed bitterly, "You foolish girl. Hera might rule over a 'lesser' domain, but she's the Queen of Gods. As for her husband, he's the King of Gods. She'd be a fool to directly punish him. Besides, it's her penchant to punish her husband's extramarital children. She forced every land in the world to send Leto away when she tried to give birth to the twins. You watched what she did to Heracles, and he had his father's favor. Her gift to you was, and her exact words, 'A marriage for the ages.' She does not want a romantic love story for you."

A hushed silence fell over their gardens. Demeter was lost in the memory of that day, when her anger over Hera's words had caused the celebration to end in wilted flowers and rotten fruit. Persephone, for her part, was in shock of the implications of Hera's words. 

Dumbly, the first thing Persephone thought to say: "But I'm making the preparations for the Oath of Hestia."

Demeter looked at her and shook her head. "Why do you think you've never gotten to take that oath and go through the ceremony? You've watched mortal priestesses complete the process in less than a decade. Every time you've asked, I've stopped you from taking the oath, and now you know why. When Hera uttered those words, your fate as a woman was sealed."

Silence enveloped the two goddesses again. Persephone's heart pounded at what this meant for her life. Obviously Hera didn't make such a prophecy out of the kindness of her heart. The Queen of Gods probably  wanted to humiliate her, while knowing that Zeus could not and would not punish such vague words. After all, Zeus had no fatherly love towards her. Maybe, by some twist of Fate, she would marry a Cyclops, and her marriage story would be the comedy of the ages. After all, Hera was not the goddess of love, and therefore, love was not an obligation of such a union, just fidelity. Or maybe, she'd get stuck with someone like Tithonus, Dawn's lover, a man who was possessed immortality without youth. Hera would get quite the laugh out of watching Persephone bed a shriveled olive of a man. 

Demeter, sensing her daughter's comprehension of the gravity of Hera's wrath, drew the younger goddess into a tight embrace. 

"I'm here to protect you. Surely you understand why I want to protect you now. I know my sister better than you will, and Hera will not allow you a peaceful existence."

Demeter grasped her daughter's hands: "I love you. I will bring down my wrath to any being, mortal or otherwise, who dares to harm you in any way. And maybe someday, you'll forgive the presence of my nymphs."