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In all his years, Hades had never found the underworld to be cold. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact time it changed, but he knew it started the first time he saw Persephone, and it only grew worse the more he held her in his arms and felt her warm hand against his cheek. Their marriage made it better. The Underworld was hot now, as bright and beautiful as day with his queen around. Hades never once felt the winter. But the moment his wife’s smiling face disappeared into the horizon of the train track, he felt a chill set in. It seeped into his very bones, pinching his veins and freezing his heart with ice daggers that pushed further into him every day she was gone.
The agreement made sense. He’d signed it because it made sense. The world needed the harvest, and the harvest needed Persephone. But now, Hades needed Persephone, and he didn’t care about the world.
Persephone wouldn’t like that, he knew she wouldn’t. She lived to give, and Hades couldn’t take that away from her. He would have to be strong.
Hades’ strength lasted for approximately a week before he up and left the Underworld. The closer the train got to Persephone, the warmer he became. The ice retreated from his skin, and breath came easier.
She was waiting at the station, smiling bigger than when she’d first come down.
“Did you miss me that much?” she teased.
Hades gave her one of his special occasion smiles. “More.”
One thing both lovers seemed to have forgotten was how hard it had been to convince their families to allow them to wed in the first place, especially in the case of Persephone’s mother, Demeter, who was not happy to see her son-in-law.
Hades inclined his head respectully. “Demeter.”
Persephone gave him an encouraging pat on the arm as her mother turned away with a grunt of disapproval.
“She’ll learn to love you, don’t worry.”
Demeter did not. Instead, she threatened to kick Persephone out of the house if she allowed “that man” back in her house again. Hades, however, was just as stubborn, and arranged to meet his young bride in secret. They flitted in and out of sight like they had back before their marriage, sneaking around Demeter and her attendants with practiced ease. Being illicit was half the fun of meeting, and it made Hades cherish every moment with Persephone even more.
Years flew by blissfully this way. Persephone would spend the fall and winter with Hades, and in the spring Hades would visit her just as often as he pleased, or at least as often as his duties as King of the Underworld allowed. With their time alone, they planned what they would say to each other when they met next.
“I’ve been thinking about flowers,” Hades said, stretched out on their picnic blanket and shielding his eyes from the noon sun.
“What about them?”
“You love them so much, so I want to bring them to the underworld. Maybe you could have a garden.”
Persephone lit up. “A garden sounds wonderful. Would you tend it while I’m gone?”
“Of course.”
“We could have gardenias. Ooh! And carnations!”
“I was thinking sunflowers”, Hades mused, fiddling with a few blades of grass.
“Any particular reason?”
“They remind me of you.” To Hades, Persephone was eternally surrounded by a halo of light, framing her face with a glow he longed for while she was away. Not to mention that Persephone was the center of his life, his very light, his source of warmth, and the person who made everything she touched seem as beautiful as she was.
Persephone smiled, and her glow grew brighter.
“I love you–”
“Persephone!”
Demeter was, in Hades opinion, the most terrifying of all the Olympians. She wielded a scycle, and she was not afraid to use it.
Persephone scrambled to her feet to calm her mother. “Mother, please.”
Hades stood too, protective beside his wife. For some reason, his attempt at docility only angered Demeter more.
“You! You stay away from my daughter. This is my realm.”
“ Mother–”
“How could you, Persephone!” Demeter wailed. “Marrying him was enough, but now you choose him over me?”
Persephone straightened. “I chose him when I married him. Why does that have to mean I don’t love you? I do love you, and I want you to love Hades too.”
Hades would remember those words from his wife every day for the rest of his life, and everyday for the rest of his life he wished he were worthy of them.
“How could I love someone who takes my daughter from me?” Demeter said, voice rising.
“He didn’t take me away, I left of my own free will. If you can’t accept that, then that is your fault, not his, and not mine.”
Demeter shook with rage. “You disobey me, you go behind my back, and you leave me no choice!
<><><>
Hades wasn’t sure what happened after that. He’d snapped. Demeter had said something to Persephone, something awful, and he’d just lost it. The next thing he remembered clearly was Persephone yelling at him and leaving him alone in the flower field. He didn’t come back to visit again after that.
Back in the underworld, Hades boiled in his regrets. He hated himself for losing his temper, and he hated himself for not living up to the image Persephone drew of him. More than anything, he wanted to be worthy of her love. He only wished Demeter didn’t make it so damn difficult.
When fall finally came, Hades met his wife on the platform.
“Persephone–”
“I’m sorry.”
What?
“No, Persephone, I’m sorry. It was my fault. I shouldn’t have lashed out like that.”
“But I shouldn’t have put you in the middle of the argument with my mother.”
“You don’t have to apologize to me,” Hades said, taking her hand and pressing it to his heart. “I only ask that you forgive me.”
She smiled, and Hades’ freezing heart thawed. After months of chill, he felt her warmth.
<><><>
Winter passed, and Hades made the most of every minute he had with his wife. They’d agreed to end summer visits, so he had to take advantage of the time he had with her. When Persephone left for spring, he kissed her goodbye and promised to miss her always.
It wasn’t long before that promise became his ruin. Thoughts of his wife tortured him day and night. Dreams became nightmares the moment he realized they weren’t real, and his longing fantasies became the enemy.
He missed her warmth, her glow, to the point that he tried to recreate them. Thus, Hadestown was born: an unfeeling reminder of his prized sentiment. He told himself the machines helped with the cold and the dark, and that the workers helped with the loneliness.
<><><>
Persephone hated Hadestown. She hated the artificial lighting that seared her skin and the sickening waves of heat that washed over her relentlessly. The workers were lifeless ghouls, mere wisps of persons, washed out until they were indistinguishable. But most of all, she hated her husband’s obsession with it. But she loved Hades, so for his sake, she tolerated it. She knew it was hard for him to be alone. She, at least, had her mother, but Hades had no one. Persephone tried to believe that Hadestown helped him.
“Hades?”
“Yes, my love?”
“The train was scheduled for yesterday.”
“So it was.”
Persephone had ignored the late train last year, but this year she had to say something. She couldn’t abandon the upper world to a longer winter, no matter how much her husband wanted her to stay, no matter how much she loved her husband. It was her duty.
“Hades, you can’t delay the train without good reason. People will suffer.”
Hades didn’t look at her. “I’m the King of the Underworld. I don’t have to do anything.”
Persephone glared at him. She knew he saw her disapproval, even if he wouldn’t meet her gaze.
He sighed, softening. “I’m sorry. I know you have to go back. I just wish you could stay a little longer.” Now he looked her in the eyes, begging her with his soft coal-black gaze to stay just one more day. She cupped his cheek.
“I love you, Hades.”
<><><>
Persephone shot back another glass of liquor and waited for it to settle. It was Fall again, and Hadestown was bigger than ever. And Persephone hated it. She despised every inch. It made her time in the Underworld something to dread, and she hated that she hated it, too. That was why Persephone was drinking. She was trying to drown her guilt.
Her guilty feelings made her agree to stay longer, too. And when Hades asked to pick her up early, how could she refuse? How could she tell her beloved husband that his industry was making life a living nightmare for her? Especially when he claimed it was in her honor that he built it, to remind himself of while she was gone.
The train whistled its arrival, and Persephone dragged herself to the platform.
“You’re early.”
“I missed you.”