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The sun’s golden arms reached through the window, trying to coax Persephone awake. Instead, the goddess pulled the covers over her head. While she had already felt partly cloudy the night before, she chalked it up to a long day of work in the garden and a long night of performing at the bar. She went to bed certain she’d wake up feeling like her usual, sunny self again. Unfortunately, more storm clouds had gathered overnight, sending a flood of mucus rushing out her nose like rainwater down a waterspout.
Persephone rolled over to try and go back to sleep, but a musical ring jolted her awake. She buried her head in the pillow, trying to drown out the incessant noise. When that didn’t work she slammed her hand down on the nearby alarm clock and threw it across the room. Still, the sound continued to pound away at her already throbbing head. That’s when she knew the sound wasn’t coming from the alarm clock.
She looked over at her bedside table where her phone was ringing off the hook. She sat up with a groan as her muscles ached from head to toe. “Whaddya want?” she answered groggily.
“Persephone?”
“Hades?” The sound of that familiar, gravelly voice made her head spin and her face flush, something she hadn’t felt since they had started courting. It could’ve been her rising fever or perhaps it was a sign of something more. Persephone was hoping for the latter.
“Is this a bad time? I’ll call you back.”
“No, it’s okay. I was just thinkin’ about you.” Persephone took the red narcissus from her hair. She looked down at the flower, rubbing her thumb across the petals.
She remembered the last thing she had asked her husband before she left last winter. “ And how about you and I? Are we gonna try again?” She was content to stay just a little longer if it meant they could patch things up. But they both knew the world had gone without a spring or fall for far too long. For the first time in forever, she found herself counting down the days until she could return to that kingdom of smog and steel.
A heavy sigh escaped the god’s lips before he continued. “So, y’know that orchard you told me about? The one at the other end of the garden?”
“Ya mean the one where I almost popped the question?” Persephone teased.
“I was thinking…maybe…y’know…”
“Yes?” Persephone’s heart fluttered while she waited for her husband to finish that thought.
“Maybe we could stop by for a bit… before headin’ back.”
Persephone’s mind wandered back to that glorious day in the orchard.
After seeing each-other behind Demeter’s back for so long, she kept telling herself: This is it! Today’s the day he’ll propose! Each time, she’d been left disappointed. Eventually, she decided they’d waited long enough. They rendezvoused at the orchard near the end of the garden. Before she could get a word out, Hades was already down on his knees, stumbling over the words he had written on index cards.
She was torn between “ What took ya so long?” and “ But what about Momma?” Just as he finished his proposal, she burst into tears and leapt into his warm embrace. “ Yes!” she sobbed between passionate kisses.
What better place to patch up their marriage than the place where it all began?
“You had to ask? I know just the—”Persephone’s response was cut off by a round of violent coughs she had been trying to hold back, forcing her to turn away from the receiver.
“Lover, you alright?” Hades asked, his voice laced with concern. “You sound a bit off.”
Persephone swallowed and cleared her throat, trying to get rid of the nagging irritation. “Yeah, just a tickle in my throat, don’t worry,” she chuckled, though her laughter turned into another fit of coughs, which she tried to muffle with her sleeve. “Meet me at Momma’s place at sunset.”
“Wait for me?”
“I will,” Persephone said before hanging up the phone.
She looked over the calendar until she reached the current date. Fall equinox was written in a bold script. Warm butterflies flitted around in her stomach at the thought of seeing her husband again. It was a strange feeling she had to admit. But then the butterflies flew up from her stomach and started tickling her nose and throat, resulting in more coughing and sneezing fits. I’ll be damned if I let a little cold stop me from trying again.
Persephone slowly got out of bed and stepped into the bathroom. She rifled through the drawers and cabinets, hoping by some chance she would find some medicine that would relieve her symptoms.
Dammit! Nothing, she thought to herself when she opened the last drawer. What else should she have expected from her momma? If it didn’t grow out of the ground, it wasn’t a remedy worth having in her eyes. It seemed she would have to find some other way to get her hands on some medicine.
Once she made it back to her bedroom, she picked up the phone and called Hermes. “Mornin’, Sister,” the god answered with his usual, warm greeting. “What can I do for ya?”
“I’m sick,” the goddess answered. “Feels like someone took a jackhammer to my brain and my bones ache like I aged a few decades overnight. Not to mention all the mucus that could fill the River Styx. It’s a nightmare.” Persephone sniffled, reaching for a clean tissue on her dresser. “Now listen, I’ve got a date with Hades tonight and there’s no way in hell I’m gonna miss it! So, I need the good stuff. The ‘Callie needs to sing tonight’ stuff.”
Even through the receiver Hermes could hear how hoarse and congested Persephone’s voice was. He had half a mind to suggest she call everything off and get back in bed, but he knew better than to argue. He saw how the power of the queen of the underworld unfolded on those who crossed her, mortal or immortal. If by some luck this sickness had weakened her powers, she’d probably bite back with a snarky response, like “ Since when did you become my momma?” So, instead, he nodded his head and said “Got it! I’ll be right over.”
Once she heard a click on the other end of the line, Persephone slipped into an old pair of overalls and dragged herself to the kitchen. She scanned the shelves, searching for just the right kind of tea but the words on the labels were blurred by her watering eyes. It didn’t help that all the jars looked nearly identical.
Persephone grabbed the first jar she could find and staggered over to the stove where she filled the kettle with water. While it warmed up, she sat down at the kitchen table, keeping one eye on the stove and the other on the clock. Gods dammit, Hermes! What’s keepin’ ya? she thought as she watched the minutes tick by.
As if the god had heard her gripes, which he probably had, there came a flapping of feathers followed by a knock at the back door. But before Persephone could answer, the kettle shrieked, calling her back to the stove. She quickly poured the steaming water on top of the tea leaves and stirred in a few spoonful's of honey straight from the hive. With the mug in hand, she headed for the door and opened it to be greeted by her half-brother.
He stood there silently with a parcel in his hands, looking the goddess over. “Gee ‘Seph, I barely recognized ya. You’ve been hangin’ with the souls of the dead so long, you’re startin’ t’ look like one of ‘em.” His wisecrack was met with a groan and an eye roll from the goddess. “Ah come on, lighten up! They say laughter’s the best medicine.”
“You’re lucky I’m too sick to strangle you in thorns!” The goddess retorted, though the intensity of her threat was undermined by the stuffiness in her voice. “Now ya got the goods or not?”
“I gotcha covered, Sister.”
Before he could hand it over, Persephone was already untying the twine and ripping off the paper. When she opened it, all she found was a bottle of nasal spray, some eye drops, a bag of cough drops, and a small medicine bottle at the very bottom of the pile. She slowly looked up from the parcel and narrowed her eyes at the messenger god.
“Don’t give me that look! It’s flu season, this is the best I could find. At least I got you some aspirin. Now, I got work t’ do.” And so Hermes took off almost as quickly as he arrived.
Once Persephone finished her tea along with a few doses of the medicines, she made her way to the garden.
No sooner had she stepped into the sunlight, Demeter dropped the trowel, looked up at her daughter, and frowned. “You’re up late. You feelin’ alright?”
Persephone froze. She had hoped the elder goddess would be none the wiser. She should have known better. Nothing got past her momma. She had to say something. But what? “Momma, I haven’t been drinkin’. I swear!”
“I didn’t say you were,” Demeter said, furrowing her brow.
Persephone cursed herself for her response. Now her momma would be even more suspicious. She couldn’t blame her, especially after all the times she’d fallen off the wagon.
Sure enough, Demeter said “It’s just, there’s this nasty bug goin’ around and I’m worried you might’ve caught it.” Before Persephone could insist she was fine, the elder goddess took a deep breath before speaking again. “I’m sorry, you’re right. I’m trying to be less of a hover mother. If you say you’re alright, then you’re alright. So, are you ready to give me a hand in the garden?”
Persephone rolled up her sleeves, eager to plow through this bug. She snuck some more doses of medicine between weeding the garden and planting the winter crops. She sucked the cough drops Hermes had given her to quell her coughing fits. She mopped up streams of mucus using all the tissues she could find. Every now and then, her momma caught her in the middle of a coughing or sneezing fit. Each time, Persephone blamed it on the ragweed pollen which seemed to convince her.
Before either of them knew it, the sun was sitting low in the sky and the two were sitting in Persephone’s bedroom, packing her bags for her annual return to Hadestown. Once the last of her daughter’s things had been put away, Demeter sat down on the empty spot on the bed beside her. “Things’ll turn out well this time. I just know it!”
Persephone glanced over at her momma with a confused expression painted on her face. “You’re…strangely optimistic. I thought you didn’t like Hades.”
Demeter brushed strands of chestnut curls away from the younger goddess’ face and looked at her with that well-known sadness. “Well, regardless of how I feel about the man, your happiness is my happiness. So, whatever it is that started this mess, you better end it,” she said with a smile.
“Trust me, I’m plannin’ on it.” Persephone wrapped her arms around her mother, noticing the shine of silver tears, like raindrops, in her eyes. Demeter tightened her grasp on the young goddess for fear that she would slip through her fingers. The two sat there, taking shelter in the other’s embrace, neither one exchanging a word for their eyes and arms said it all. At that moment it was just the two of them as it had been for centuries.
The distant call of a train whistle startled the goddess’ out of each-other’s embrace. “I’ll be puttin’ some of the plants to bed for the fall. So, you won’t be seein’ much of me. Y’all have a good time.” Demeter kissed her daughter’s cheek before stepping out.
Once she was sure her mother was gone, Persephone sat at her vanity, searching for the extra stash of cosmetics she kept on hand for special occasions. She rushed to apply the rest of the makeup before her husband arrived. But by then, she could already feel his presence somewhere nearby.
…
After taking a moment to compose himself, Hades gave the farmhouse door a curt knock. The door opened to reveal his beloved wife wearing that same, warm smile he fell in love with that day in the garden. Though she had tried to hide her condition well, her chestnut curls resembled a bird’s nest after a storm, her eyes watered like a flooded river, and her nose was damp and red like a cherry. He decided not to mention it and instead let her lead him inside.
“Hey!” she greeted, her voice more than a little congested. “Gimme just a second, okay?”
“Okay.” Hades leaned against the doorframe and watched as she opened her bags to retrieve some more layers. Glancing around the room, he noticed the wastebasket overflowing with tissues and the vanity and dresser cluttered with no shortage of cough drop wrappers. “You sure you’re feelin’ up to this, Lover? You sound a little sick.”
She slipped on a sweater and then her big, fur coat on top of her forest green dress. “It ain’t so bad.” Her statement was followed by a wet sniffle, which did nothing to convince him of her wellbeing.
“Tonight’s s’posed to be the coldest it’s been all week.”
Persephone playfully rolled her eyes. “Yeah, it’s almost like weather normally gets colder as the seasons change. Wild.” She was about to head back to the closet only to be stopped by a crudely-knitted scarf wrapped around her neck. “You made this for me?”
“Of course. I mean, it ain’t like Athena’s work. But what kinda husband would I be if I let my wife catch a chill?”
Persephone’s smile widened as she took him in her arms. “This is better than anything Athena could’ve made. It’s got a story to tell.”
Hades saw her attempt to hide a few coughs in her elbow followed by a wince when she realized that the force of the coughs had spilled some mucus from her nose. He raised his brow and looked at her with a mix of concern and bemusement.
“Oh, uh…” she sniffled, “I’ll bring tissues.”
“Good.” Hades knew it would probably be best not to take her out in such a state, but who was he to deny her a nice evening together? Especially after the promise they had made last winter. Besides, there was nothing he could say or do to change his wife’s mind once it was made up.
Hades stepped into the kitchen to wait for his wife. His eyes landed on the kettle sitting on the nearby stove and then on the thermos in his hand. Guess it couldn’t hurt to bring along somethin’ warm to drink. Once the kettle had been filled, he turned on the stove and began rummaging through the cupboards stocked with various jars of herbs, spices, and tea leaves.
Even from the kitchen he could hear his wife sniffling and sneezing, which made his stomach sink. What if he was somehow to blame for her illness? The sweltering heat and smog-filled streets couldn’t be good for a nature goddess like Persephone. Any number of things in that dark and dismal kingdom could have weakened her, leaving her vulnerable to sickness. Before he could dwell any further on that, the kettle squealed and he shot to his feet. He emptied a jar of tea leaves into the thermos and poured boiling water from the kettle and stirred in some of Demeter’s organic honey.
“I’m ready to go.” Persephone popped out from behind the corner, took his hand in hers, and led him out into the garden.
…
The trees and flowers lining the dirt path bowed down their heads in reverence for the passing king and queen. Even through the branches overhead Hades could see a few of Nyx’s stars shining like diamonds along the golden streams of Helios’ chariot. A cool breeze swept the land, carrying the smoky, crisp scent of autumn. It was a natural sort of beauty, one that could not be replicated by even the most precious stones or the most advanced machinery.
The quiet chemistry between the gods was abruptly halted when Persephone broke away from him in a small fit of coughs. The king raised a sturdy arm, gently placing his hand against her back while she hacked. “”You doin’ okay? We can head back anytime, y’know?”
“Nah, it’s fine.” Persephone sniffled again before clearing her throat. She searched her bag for a tissue to wipe her dripping nose. They hadn’t been walking for very long, but she already found herself reusing old tissues.
A few steps later, the gods came to a clearing at the end of the lane. The leaves parted to unveil a large gathering of trees bearing every kind of fruit known to man. As he stared at the perfect blend of red, green, and yellow apples that hung from the branches, he took a whiff of the sweet, natural scent of fresh produce.
Hades thought about everything else they could do here now that the garish, summer heat had been put to rest for the season. They could come back here for picnics under the stars, snowball fights once the first snow fell, maybe even a game of hide and seek.
When the hell did I get t’ be such a sap?
A smug grin crept across the god’s face as he looked up at the hanging fruits. “Well lookie here, all these apples up for grabs and not a ladder in sight. Just how is a goddess of your size s’posed to grab any?”
“Watch me!” Persephone thrust the basket at her husband and approached the towering tree with her hand outstretched. The tree lowered one of its branches to the queen, gifting her the biggest, juciest apple it could produce. She plucked the fruit from the branch and bit off a large chunk before turning back to her husband with a wry smile.
She swore she heard her husband mutter “Show off” under his breath, but the smile on his face told her he harbored no hard feelings. So far so good.
“Hey, chin up. Maybe the others’ll give you somethin’ if you ask nicely,” she teased.
“You can talk t’ trees? Really? What’s it say?”
“It says…” Persephone started, leaning her ear against the tree’s mighty trunk. “Last one t’ fill the basket peels all the apples! Looks like you’re gonna hafta do it the old-fashioned way, Lover.”
Hades and Persephone raced to fill each of their baskets as quickly as possible. They started chucking rotten apples at each-other, hoping to slow the other one down. Robust laughter and the humming of an old song resonated throughout the orchard; a song of love brought to life after spending so much time forgotten. Had an oracle told either of them years ago that this was where they would be, they would have scoffed at the possibility. Now, they couldn’t imagine it any other way.
Persephone had nearly forgotten about her condition. That is, until another breeze passed by, sending a shiver through her. When she held out her hand, the apples sat motionless at the top of the tree. She tried again, but all that fell from the branches were a few pathetic leaves. Looks like I’m gonna have to do this the hard way.
Persephone slithered up the trunk like a snake until she reached the nearest branch. So far so good. Her heart seemed to swell into a mallet, drumming up extra ichor through her veins to the tips of her fingers as she hoisted herself up the tree. Almost there ! Her mouth began to water as she edged closer and closer to the apples, red and shiny as rubies, hanging from the branches.
The goddess reached her hand out to the plump, ripe fruit just inches away. But before she could claim her prize, a wave of heat swept through her body. The sky and surrounding trees started spinning in a violent circle, as though she were caught in a cyclone. She clung to the tree for dear life, disregarding the aches in her arms and legs. Unfortunately, the branch she had been clutching slipped from her hand, sending her plummeting toward the ground.
Persephone braced herself for a rough landing, only to have her fall cushioned by something warm and soft. She opened her eyes to find her husband looking down at her. “Is this a habit of yours? Fallin’ off stuff?” he asked, attempting a smile.
“Well, normally someone’s there to catch me,” Persephone chuckled, tracing her finger along the brick pattern that lined his arm.
“Come on, let’s sit down for a spell.” The king cradled his queen in his broad arms and laid her down slowly on the orchard floor, handing her one of the apples he picked.
Persephone leaned against the trunk, snacking on the apple while basking in the warm glow of the fall evening until a cool breeze passed by, sending a shiver through her. She inched closer to her husband and pressed against him. Her fur coat stretched further with every shiver and shake that passed through her. Hades obliged, wrapping himself and his wife in the coat, which now resembled a winter blanket, and pulling her in close to him.
Persephone leaned into his touch, emitting a small, content sigh. Her body tensed as she attempted to stifle a wet sneeze against the king’s shoulder, leaving the silver fabric damp. “Shit! Ugh…I-I’m so sorry,” she sniffled, fumbling for a decently dry tissue in her bags.
“It’s alright, lover.” Hades pulled out a clean handkerchief from his coat pocket and handed it to his wife. He watched another miserable, soggy sneeze erupt during her fervent attempt to clean up after the first one. Another breeze passed by, causing her to shiver again. This time, so did he. “Maybe we should head back. It’s gettin’ cold.”
Persephone gave her nose another blow into the now sodden handkerchief. “Alright, just let me drop some of these off with Momma first.” Once she finished, she noticed her husband holding a thermos out to her.
“I brought some tea. Should help us warm up on the way back.”
Her face flushed a bit, whether it was because of her fever or her husband, she didn’t know and, at that point, didn’t care. She gratefully accepted the drink, releasing a delighted hum at the soft blend of sweet honey and the powerful kick of the tea leaves. The two of them stood, took the bags, and headed down the path
Hades and Persephone walked back slowly, each one supporting the opposite side of the basket. A comfortable silence hung over them as they walked, only being broken by the occasional cough or sneeze coming from Persephone or the sound of either of them sipping the hot drink. Finally, Persephone turned to her husband with a wounded expression painted on her face. “I’m sorry, Lover. I know you wanted to give us a perfect night and I ruined everything…again.”
“Oh lover. You didn’t ruin anything,” he reassured her, squeezing her hand a little tighter. “Besides, you’re better than all the apples in that orchard.”
Persephone shook her head. “It ain’t just about the apples,” she said. “I let us grow apart like weeds all because I was blinded by a river of wine. I’ve been tryin’ to quit for the both of us, but if only you knew how many times I’ve fallen off the wagon.”
She tried to avoid her husband's eyes, but Hades cradled her chin in his coarse hand and gave off a low chuckle. “I think I got you beat,” he said. “You shoulda seen all those nights Hermes and Hecate had t’ drag me outta the office kicking and screaming. One time Cerberus mistook me for one of them low-lives. Though, I guess I was.”
Persephone let out a watery sort of laugh which soon gave way to another fit of coughs.
A few steps later, which felt like a mile-long trek to Persephone, the two arrived at the old farmhouse. The goddess raised her hand to knock when the front door swung open. Not even seconds later, she was greeted by her mother’s frantic stream of worries. “Baby, what happened?!” Demeter gasped. “You look white as a ghost! Hades, you know you shouldn’t be taking her out if she’s unwell! Now look what you did!”
“Leave him outta this, Momma. It ain’t his fault. I’ve been feelin’ lousy all day.”
The elder goddess placed the back of her hand against her daughter’s forehead, biting her lip. “I knew it,” she murmured. “I knew somethin’ was wrong this whole time. Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Persephone snapped.
Demeter raised her arms and took a step back, staring at her daughter with her mouth agape. When she finally spoke, the first words out of her mouth were “Because I know you needed space.” She turned away from the younger, hanging her head low. “You’re not a little girl anymore. It’s time I put my own feelings aside and accept that. But right now, you need to march right up those stairs and head straight to bed.”
“No!” Persephone protested, flocking to her husband’s side. “Hades, we have to go! Tell her it’s time!”
Hades shook his head. “I’m sorry, Persephone, but your mother’s right.”
The goddesses stared at him with a mix of confusion and surprise planted on their faces. “But—”
“Lover, you are in no condition to travel. I could never forgive myself if you got sicker on the ride back to Hadestown. Fall can wait a few days.”
Persephone relented before turning back to the elder goddess. “Well, if I can’t go then he stays.” She hugged his arm a little tighter, silently pleading for her mother to have pity on her poor husband.
“Do you even know how to take care of a sick person?” Demeter asked coolly, staring straight at her brother.
“I made her some tea,” he said, showing her the thermos.
“It takes a lot more than knowing your way with a kettle, Mister.”
“Well, I’d be willing to learn from the best.”
Demeter hesitated, looking over at Hades with a glare as bitter cold as the winter frosts. Just when Persephone thought they were through, she said “Alright, but just for tonight.” The goddess waved the two of them in before showing them to their room.
Once the door closed behind them, Persephone attempted to peel off the gown, whimpering and groaning at the aches that followed every movement. “Little help here?” she asked, glancing over at her husband.
With a soft laugh, Hades pulled the dress up and over her head before helping her slip into one of her silk nightgowns and tucking her into bed. “I better go help your mother in the kitchen, I’ll be right back,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to her rosy cheek.
Persephone settled into the pillows, tucking her mother’s woven quilt around herself. She drifted off to the lullaby of rustling leaves, the steady beating of the knife against the cutting board, and the sizzle of her mother’s homemade cooking. Some time later, she was awoken by an enticing smell from the kitchen. She figured she must already be on the mend if she could smell again.
Her husband came in bearing two steaming bowls and two ceramic mugs. He proceeded to pile on layers and layers of blankets between fluffing her pillows and offering her spoonful's of soup, much to Persephone’s delight. “Is there anything else I can do for you, my queen?”
“Well, maybe just one more thing,” she said coyly, extending her arms to the king. “Will you lie with me? The bed’s a bit small, so we’ll have to get real close.”
Hades happily obliged, wrapping himself in the mountain of blankets and sheets, hooking his arm around his wife. The gods drifted off to sleep, not just side-by-side, but in each-other’s arms, relishing in the other’s presence for the first time in years. The story turned out even better the second time because the gods had remembered their love.