lostladyofesgaroth:

She could feel the intensity of his gaze and calmly met it without flinching. Why should she? He hardly scared her. Even her mother’s warning fell on deaf ears currently. She knew how the Olympians felt about the Dark God, but she never understood. She heard stories, heard the talk, but words… that’s all it was—words. And there was something small inside her that was flattered he was talking to her. Someone as purely powerful as he was. It was childish, and she could probably blame her youth, but it didn’t change it.

Because how could she actually deny the way he was looking at her? There was an intense emotion behind that gaze, an emotion that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. It was alien to her, alien and still familiar. But, he tore his eyes from hers and she immediately felt cold at the change. But, he was simply looking down at where she was holding his hands, forever gentle and calm.

At his words, her eyebrows raised in surprise and her words were lost as his eyes found hers again. She could lose herself in that gaze, in his voice. That voice that was as smooth as silk was almost music to her. And this time, her quiet came not from quiet contemplation, but from a stolen voice. How could she possibly answer him?

It sounded so heartbreaking. A kingdom of Darkness and Shadow. But, it wasn’t so terrible. Her mind instantly supplied her with that thought. It may be the land of the Dead, but there was still good there. The Elysian Fields were granted to those who lived good, prosperous lives. Besides, to have shadow, to have true Darkness—Light had to exist. There could be no Darkness without Light.

And there could be no Life without Death.

This time, she broke eye contact, looking down so that she could regain her thoughts without her tongue turning to lead behind her lips. “You sound so sad.” She started, instinctively squeezing his hands. Sad and cold and unbelievably alone. She could hear it all in his voice and she wanted it to stop. “Why me? Of all the maidens, of all the Goddesses in our world—why did you choose me?” Dark eyes raised to meet his again, determined to speak even as the feelings washed over her all over again. “And what of my life here, Hades? Am I to drop everything and hide in Darkness until our End comes?” She dropped one of his hands to reach up and brush her fingers against his cheek.

“There is none who would approve.” But, still her hand lingered, her palm resting against the skin now. The statement was an afterthought, a musing said outloud, and it was obvious from her tone that she hardly cared. Why should she? How could he be so bad when he was radiating love and devotion. But, her chin jutted up suddenly, her gaze hardening.

“I will not be a bird kept in a cage, if I do choose to go with you. I am no trophy to be stored away to be looked at as a spoil of some conflict. You cannot lock me away if I do this.”

How could she ask why? She, who was so full of life, who radiated such light, all Gods envied her. For she was a beauty rare, not only blessed with radiant eyes and lips that begged to be kissed. No, her very essence was beauty itself, an ideal to aspire to, but never to be reached. She had already arrived.

Alone. The word was so familiar to him, his only companion, steadfast and true, as he ruled over his kingdom below. Yet never before had anyone named him sad. None had dared, or none could see… or cared. He was a villain, in all their eyes, something to be hated, despised, ignored, ridiculed, left out. Full of hate was how they saw him, bitter hate and dishonorable intent. Certainly, stealing his brother’s daughter to the underworld was a questionable venture, but he was driven by loneliness and longing as much as the desire to cause pain to those who would see him cast out.

Her touch came as a surprise, and he flinched, hand shooting out to wrap fingers around her wrist, an iron grip, for gentle was not part of his nature; that was her realm. His eyes rested on hers, dark and torn, as he listened to her passionate words.

“I do not care about their approval, Persephone,” he whispered, voice soft, slightly hoarse now for her nearness to him. “And I would not see you caged, nor your wings clipped. I would see you shine. No cage. No key. You would be free, and you would be mine. As I would be yours. Will you accept? Will you be my bride?”