Utena, Revolutionary Girl Fan Fiction ❯ Daddy Dearest ❯ The Morning After ( Chapter 2 )

A/N: I tip my hat to Utena-chan's To Pluck a Rose in this chapter, and I encourage all of you to read that tale on FF.Net. Thanx for the reviews!

  The crash and scream was so very far away until Utena saw the buffet table fly into the opposite wall lifting the succulent foodstuffs fifty feet into the air, causing all the guests to stampede from every exit and window in the ballroom. With a shocked hand on her cheek, Anthy set down the teapot from which she was filling Miki's cup on a table. “Chu Chu! You naughty boy! I thought I told you not to jump out on the table. It's not nice.” Wakiya Aiko danced an jig shaking out her tangerine gown by the taffeta fistfuls until the mouse in question jumped from her skirt with half a celery stick, its tube filled with oozing Dijon dip.

            ; “Himemiya…?” Utena resurfaced groggily blinking out of her daydream sitting at the edge of the deck chair with Touga sprawled out behind her, roused from dozing when a Tiffany candelabrum crashed out a window and plunked into the pool. The president was gone in a red and white flash attempting to restore order, Utena sat planted her thighs cemented and skin iced from sweat her body vibrating alive, an antennae absorbing all sensation from every living thing that moved within her perimeter. The glass mug fell from her fingers and rolled across the slate. “Otou… san…”

            ; “Utena-sama?” She whipped around and saw Anthy blinking in unerring ignorance. The Rose Bride's concern melted back into a grin, hands clasped on the crisp pleats of the Ohtori uniform the Indian girl stood blatantly carefree of the universal insanity breaking around them. “Shall we go?” And only for a spilt second did Utena want to slap that grin off her face. How did she do that? Was it possible for Himemiya to teach her the secret to smiling when life expectorated in your face?

            ; “Unh…” It was the longest walk Utena had been on in her life, and the most uncomfortable with the breeze hitting her sopping crotch. Utena stayed in the shower a half an hour longer than usual, something that Himemiya did notice but refrained from questioning her mistress judging by her fevered countenance. She pulled on her nightgown, pinned her nightcap on and turned out the light. The laundry bag sat uselessly in the empty green plastic basket at the foot of the washer; on the dryer were the Tide and Snuggles waiting for Himemiya in the morning. Utena pulled the plastic catch up along the white nylon cord and dug through the soiled colors for a towel to roll her shorts and underclothes in. She opened the washer's portal door loaded it, set it to WARM-COLD, poured in the detergents, and waited for the drum to fill. There was no way in hell would she be able to close her eyes for the rest of the night, it was 2:10 in the morning and all she kept seeing was a tangle of pink and red hair and sweat sheened limbs. Touga's hot breath steaming on her body, his thick cock jabbing her bowstrung cleft punishing her with his admissions of love… she needed another shower.

 

 

*           *            *

 

 

            ; Utena's week steadily progressed rolling further downhill. She slept a total of 10 hours, most of which done in class Wakaba unable to cover for her friend in front of the teachers cooked up a story about an iron deficiency condition and Ohtori's resident physician was changing Utena's prescription. The uber-genki schoolgirl was not about to let her best friend off the hook so easily, every time she attempted to give Utena the Third Degree she'd doze off, or worse unacknowledged Wakaba's presence even as they ate lunch. Wakaba actually ate; Utena just laid her head on the table after sipping some juice. The doe-eyed brunette sat two seats across from her girl-prince drumming her short pearline pink nails on her lower lip as their class assembled for fifth period world history, Miyawa-sensei was never known for patience preferring to get straight to business marching up the center aisle to take her place behind the podium where the overhead waited, a boxful of transparencies in the crook of her arm. The students communally pressed their lips together to further stifle any groans that would buy them a one-way ticket to detention; Miyawa-sensei was known for her zero tolerance policy a demeanor bespoke by her fashion tastes: gun metal gray tweed suits, unassuming carnation pink twill blouses with starched collars, their seams razor sharp. She spun on the balls of her brown snakeskin pumps scanning the classroom with her hawk eyes behind horn-rimmed glasses mentally calling roll. The twenty-five-year-old could have been considered attractive with her sable hair swept up stylishly in a chignon anchored by a silver dragonfly pin studded with black and white crystals, aquiline nose, and smoky eyes if she would drop her defenses since she behaved like a four-star general reviewing her armies outside of class.

            ; “Persephone,” Miyawa-sensei declared, “the Maiden of Spring and daughter of Demeter, Lady of the Grain and Harvests. Hades, God and ruler of the Underworld, brother to Zeus ruler of all Olympian Gods and Poseidon ruler of the sea.” The cicadas chirped daintily, the cream window shades lifted smoothly from the warm late afternoon breeze. “Does anyone have an iota of understanding as to what I'm talking about?” A student coughed somewhere in the back rows. Miyawa quirked a brow making a mental note to get the name of that person at the end of class. “If any of you have a care about next Friday's exam,” she said slapping three dry-erase markers on her palm as a dominatrix would a cat o'ninetails, “you should have cracked open your textbooks over the weekend instead of liquefying your brains with Playstation 2 or loitering in the Internet café.” The lights went out and the overhead glowed whirring like a jet engine, Utena felt the dusty heat on her face escape from the vents closing her eyes she inhaled salty sea air, daring herself to look down at the jetty livid, rolling waves blanketing the jagged rocks in white foam, each wave attempting to grasp heaven but the water whilst in flight relented, retreating back to the depths…

 

 

*           *            *

 

 

            ; Persephone flicking her pink braid over her shoulder retrieved her basket resting on a flat rock to cradle it in her arms, not even the most fragrant and beautiful of blossoms could lift this melancholy. Amphitrite was missing. Her dearest friend swallowed up by a wave while dancing on Naxos, what sort of misdeed could such a genteel goddess committed to deserve such punishment? Over yonder was the melodious gay laughter and games the Oceanids were hard at in the meadow, showers of petals flew on the winds coaxing Persephone to join them. Dusting off her short sky blue toga, the maiden ready to concede and quit being disagreeable was about to leave her spot on the cliff when the whispers of the saddest song carried on the winds caressed her cheek, summoning her. Jogging down the slope to the shore, Persephone splashed through shallow puddles, skipped over sleeping stones nestled in wet, brown sand the melody getting louder the faster she went. The sun scalded sand scrunched under her sandals, grains finding their way between her toes, Persephone suddenly stopped short shielding her eyes with an open hand made out a small figure standing a dozen yards away from her. A silver-haired youth, just a few years her junior stood decked in immaculate white, a sheathed saber at his side the hilt made of gilt leaves and emerald. The pommel stone shimmered, fashioned from a flawless ruby carved into the most extraordinary flower Persephone ever seen. She was unsure if its glow came from the arching sun passing through it, or if it breathed with its own life force. Before she could call out to him he was gone from sight and Persephone felt somewhat abandoned then deduced he had to be the elusive Helios. He rarely, if ever left his sky palace, so disheartened by the sorry state of the world seldom communicating with anyone on Earth. So what was he doing by that cave?

            ; The song echoed from inside the cave, approaching it Persephone lurked at its mouth, her little hands clawing at the stone listening to the words:

 

Mukudori, yamabato, koganegumo

Omurasaki mo yume no naka

 

Otsuki miso wa nemurenai

Gin no shizuku o nonda kara

 

Andron, dron, naidron

Yoru no koe nori ni watareba

 

Andron, dron, naidron

Oyasumi yoiko

 

Ashita sametara agemashou

Kiichigo, natsugumi, yamaboushi

 

Yusuge, kisuge, kono hazuku

Yofukashi no usagi beni suzume

 

Shippo no kireta tokage no ko

Kawari ni tsukeru ryu no tama

 

The voice was despondent and empty but the song expressed such intimate love between a mother and her child at the most perilous time in a child's day to day life: bedtime. But such was the ways of love, ecstatic and tragic. Demeter avoided explaining to her daughter man's imperfections and the catastrophes, which ultimately were the consequences of them.

 

Andron, dron, naidron

Yoru no koe nori ni watareba

 

Andron, dron, naidron

Oyasumi yoiko

 

            ; Ashita sametara agemashou

          &n bsp; Genge no jutan mimikazari

 

          &n bsp; Dokuzeri, asebi, yamakagashi

          &n bsp; Mozu no eda niwa amagaeru

 

          &n bsp; Kitsune ga tabeta shika no ko wa

          &n bsp; Tsuki no momo-iro mite shinda

 

Andron, dron, naidron

Yoru no koe nori ni watareba

 

Andron, dron, naidron

Oyasumi yoiko

 

Ura no sugi no ki naitanara

Akai fuku kite, nigemashou

 

Oyasumi, yoiko

Oyasumi…

Saa

 

            ; Still, Persephone felt it her duty to find the owner of this voice and perhaps find a way to ease whatever pain she might be in. Sucking in a proud breath she was determined to brave the darkness therein and, although keeping in mind she was trespassing, invited herself in. Astounded by her daring, or the complete denial of fear Persephone walked the caverns calmly and silently heedful of any imp or goblin ready to lash out at her. There was only the intermittent drip of water and humming from the sad siren. How deep was she coiling into the Earth Persephone didn't want to dwell on or she would make haste and turn back, when she saw a dim light flickering in the distance Persephone was relieved the darkness having been her only company for so long left her breathlessly lonely. At last Persephone was able to make out what sort of residency the siren took and she was astounded to say the least. The rock was as smooth as ebony marble etched away by eons of humidity and erosion, a plethora of raw gems rooted in the earth twinkling jovially like the night sky. It was warm and she suspected not from the fire but naturally baking the earth from the sunrays, and she could hear the comforting crashing waves as if she were standing once more at the mouth of the cave. Persephone entered an encompassing anteroom and at its center was a great pit, the fire crackled and snapped, where the heat originated from coal or wood she couldn't tell for atop it was a cauldron excitedly bubbling. On the tables and shelves sculpted into the walls were bottles and jars of plants, herbs, potions and powders. The colors and shapes made them quite attractive but Persephone knew better, her mother always warned her about sorceress' brews and that she should never touch any of its constituents. There were skulls of various sizes of horrid creatures, from the vampire bat to a manticore, preserved were eyes, tongues, claws, and brains to use for whatever spell or concoction the sorceress may have need for. The only sign of life came from inside a Cyclops skull on the floor, the skittering scratch of a silver platter piled with sweetmeats pushed by a mouse.

            ; “Chu-Chu…” The little creature unawares of the enchanted spring maiden proceeded to stuff himself silly.

            ; “Ara, you finally made it.” Persephone whirled around and came face to face with the lady of the house. “Irashaimasse,” she bowed deeply her violet hair sliding on either side of her striking face, the ends just brushing her spotless floor. Persephone made no attempt to utter her thanks so startled was she by this mage. She expected some matronly woman or worse, some old hag ready to curse her into the next epoch, not the sylph prostrating before her. Layer upon layer of violet tresses fell past her hips; she had the finest earth toned skin, and forlorn leaf green eyes. The mage had the bright red Hindu marking on her forehead and gold bangles rattled dryly on her slim ankles and wrists like a gypsy. Lifting her skirts Persephone could see her indigo toga was the color of velvet; the flesh beneath was softer. “I am Hecate,” she said busying herself with a tray, a pair of cups and a teapot materialized. Hecate filled the teapot with water from a gurgling fount, the water was from the freshest underground spring untouched by mortals; she set the pot into the pit only a few moments wait until the water was hot enough for the tea. “There are millions of questions milling in your mind, Persephone. Try to decide on what is your first.” The pink-haired girl swallowed a gob of saliva loudly at the mention of her name from a goddess-witch she'd never encountered before.

            ; “How do you know me?”

            ; “I was present at your birth,” Hecate wrapped a rag around the iron handle of the piping hot pot and lifted it onto a smooth, flat stone and sprinkled a handful of tea leaves into the water. “Next question.”

            ; “Do you know of Amphitrite? Where is she? Is she well?” Hecate poured even amounts of the sweet brew into their cups.

            ; “The answer to the first two is yes and the last she is happy.” Persephone recoiled by Hecate's kind frankness.

            ; “You won't tell me where she is, then.” She laid out pewter bowls of figs, dates, and grapes.

            ; “It is not my place to impede myself in the marriage of others.” Persephone gasped and collapsed on a three-legged stool, she never thought Amphitrite's kidnapping might be from a prospective husband. Not that she thought little of her friend nor was she unattractive, but who would want to just carry her away just like that, no goodbyes. Persephone's jaw set and her cerulean eyes hardened it had to be a god who was heartless, coldblooded with seawater gushing through his veins. But who? She was not familiar with any of the gods who met on Mount Olympus Demeter raised her daughter within the confines of the temple grounds. Persephone released the breath she was holding and just as she was stretching her fingers for her cup's handle a chilly blast of air lashed against her cheek making the wayward strands of hair fly up, Hecate sat adjacent from her unaffected. She stood straight up, hands flat on the wood looking over the other woman's head. It was coming from one of the several adjoining caverns down the short passageway.

            ; “What was that?”

Hecate sipped her tea taking her time. “That place is where you will meet your destiny.” Persephone was nonplussed and yet she dared not to question this lady. “In you must go.” Her heart knocked in her throat at the suggestion of this but by Hecate's attitude Persephone once again abstained from questioning and pushed any refusals out of her mind. Her fists crossed over her chest she took the first few steps out of the reception room and looked back briefly in Hecate's direction. The sorceress continued drinking her tea and didn't once turn around. Persephone passed what had to be Hecate's bedchamber, a round bed in soft hues of purple and lavender, satin the curtains pulled back just enough to see a partially complete garland string of that same strange blossom on Helios' sword in pink, white, red, blue, green, orange, black, and purple. Black candles dripped in their bronze stands, the soft friendly light from an oil lamp chandelier bathed the room in place of windows letting in the sun. A looking glass stood in the corner draped partly by what looked like a white sheet, when Persephone leaned in the doorway she could see the red lining peeking from under it. Closer inspection determined that it was a mantle, blinking in the candlelight was a thin gold chain hung limply down the reflective surface. Hieroglyphics adorned the armoire doors. Painted in silver on the black-lilac varnish was a series of pictures. Going clockwise was the first of the drawings a pair of handsome young men with their arms wrapped about each other's shoulders staring bald-facedly into one another's eyes. In profile they appeared to be identical twins save for the young man on the right being short-haired with a braid gingerly cradling the back of his skull, and the one on the left had a lengthy tail of hair curling about his neck over his shoulder spilling down his naked torso. Festoons of palms, pine, and fleur-de-lis interwoven with Turkish mosaics and the small two-faced visage of Janus hovered aloft. The next portrait was of a castle being stormed by angry mobs armed with swords; below the first portrait were the two men again this time both sprouted angel wings, on the ground was the short-haired twin with wings of snowy white immobilizing him was his pony tailed brother with a single hand on his upper arm, his wings a jet black. Sensually winding about his narrow waist was a double-headed serpent a ruby orb between their open jaws. The final one had a naked woman suspended in midair, a sword speared her hands as a million swords aglow with mortal hatred whirled about her and below sat the shorthaired man atop a huge globe head bowed on his drawn knees, disgraced.

            ; The tragic tale traumatized her though she had little idea why; she'd heard far more graphic accounts of the realities in Tartarus in the lower world and its ominous overlord generating some of her worst nightmares. Persephone left Hecate's room descending further down the corridor positive she saw a solid wall just moments before wandering into Hecate's room, the lights dimmed the farther she went until they were seemingly snuffed out and Persephone was alone once more. Unexpectedly something knocked her down into the dirt, that same blast of air Persephone felt earlier this time more vicious than a Harpy's wrath. Shielding her face from flying debris Persephone got to her feet and slogged on, battering her were the winds this time they carried howls of great despair, clanking chains, cracking whips, and pleas for mercy. Persephone flattened herself against the wall her head falling into her hands, her whole body reduced to a quaking lump of flesh. “No… no… I cannot! Please, let me out!” The orgy of the torture pit got closer though she never left her spot. A great rumble in the Earth set her flying forward and she tried to catch herself but the ground had mysteriously thinned out and Persephone nearly took a tumble over the ledge. She kicked her legs groping at the wall hefting herself up. “Help me! Help!” The cavern roared and swayed its force increasing the harder she held fast to the wall. “Ohhh!” The ledge began caving in, rocks falling down into the bottomless abyss futilely Persephone slithered backwards until the ground gave way, the maw hungry to blot her from existence until a steely embrace dictated otherwise.

            ; “Persephone…” The kiss opened her soul profoundly and deliberately yielding her effervescent will perfectly, her dark lover interleaving a silver key into her soul unlocking all the licentious whimsies she'd dare not entertain even during meditations for fear of repercussions from her mother. Persephone's fear fueled the kiss deeper; astounding her was his sheer size running her arms around his back weakening her, the icy black armor hardening her nipples and something else, an unfamiliar twinge and moistness in her most secret place. Persephone was sure that these events were in some way connected, but her shadowy mind couldn't afford to tax itself further so she dropped off as she sailed away on a cloud of red mist.

 

 

*           *            *

 

 

            ; She turned on her side half expecting one of her handmaidens to barge in and exchange her delicious dream morning devotions. Persephone unwound herself from her awkward position as she tilted her head upward she was engulfed by a resilient sky laden with stars burning so mightily that she feared them crashing down on her. Persephone so enthralled she didn't realize she was not alone.

            ; “Do you like it?” Persephone whirled this way and that unable to find who spoke, contrary to the illuminated heavens everything beneath was veiled in shadow. Persephone was not able to see her hands in front of her face, this magic done as a poor prank or with ulterior motives. “I'm so used to seeing you smile, Persephone. What's wrong?” She yelped when someone turned up right beside her. He was a statuesque man; whipcord muscles winding up his long limbs and a claret mane spilling down his broad back. He held his chin up proudly, hands clasped behind his back; Persephone just made out his profile and could tell he was grinning rather smugly. And that niggled her.

            ; “Where am I?” Persephone took two steps forward; strange how she did not get any closer to him. The soft quiver of silken petals under her naked feet from a breeze that left them untouched caused her to look down; she was ankle deep in red blossoms clutching at her legs like a lover's hands. Persephone tentatively picked one and held it out for his inspection; it was no accident why they stood at arm's length of one another. “What is the name of this flower?”

            ; “It's a rose. They don't grow in your world, which is why you won't find them.” He explained without facing her. Persephone stirred her index finger in the velvety ruffles. “They're yours… if you want them.” She was speechless for the first time in her young life; Persephone had never met this man before and here he was offering her something of great significance in his world, but something irked her about his attitude, he was being too familiar with her, his tactics performed with flair and dexterity. But that was not what truly worried her.

            ; “Why do I feel like I know you?” He laughed low in his throat conspiratorially; he caressed a wisp of her hair dragging it between his index and middle fingers.

            ; “Because I love you.”

            ; If it was any more of a perfect time to wake up, it was then. Persephone came to discovering she hadn't left her tuffet on the cliff. The Oceanids weaved throughout a coppice of trees playing hide and seek, Persephone stood on the incline her paranoia dissected every whistle of the wind. There wasn't so much as a butterfly sighing on a grass blade let alone singing, she hugged herself protectively but there was such sincerity in his words promising her that even if she were to grow wings and take off he would chase her down for eternity. Persephone called to the Oceanids who put an end to their frolicking and accompanied their lady back to her mother's temple. The women silently vacated the field the sea breeze kicked up at their backs jostling the trees; their branches parted the way for the sun to throw his final pink rays on the Earth before sliding into the sea. The shadows reshaped then dissolved, the lone figure keeping watch under their cover freed his red hair from the confines of his helmet and satisfactorily strolled down the slope to the beach.

 

 

*           *            *

 

 

            ; Dou! Men! Kote! Tsuki! Repetition was cathartic but going back to basics was key in taking down the strongest of opponents. It was the way of the warrior and so content was he to forever train in his dojo perfecting the craft he mastered, but it was their father who pried the shinai from his small fists to draw the lots he was sure were fixed to set his inferiority in stone. And so Poseidon was assigned the sea, a dominion capricious as its ruler his dear brother remarked once. Dropping the bokken into the wall rack Poseidon swabbed his sweating face with a linen towel starting with his forehead picking up the moisture to the underside of his chin. He breathed deeply into the towel opening his eyes to see the burgundy varnished maple sword rack at his feet. He studied the sword it cradled; the sageo, kurikata, and fuchi made of satin, painted on the saya were swags of the Japanese rose. All in shocking white on the lacquered black, the empty hooks above where its twin once hung made the thing look lopsided. Poseidon tossed the towel into a corner and reached for the katana, in all these years he wondered why he never replaced the rack. The muffled skim of the shoji opening made him snap his arm back to his side stupidly feeling he was caught doing something he shouldn't. Poseidon shut his eyes already knowing the identity of the interloper. “What do you want?” He reigned in as much of his hostility as he possibly could.

            ; “Aren't I allowed to visit my brother on occasion?” The redhead leered admiring the tension branching underneath his brother's black gi. The sea god snorted pounding a fist into slender hip.

            ; “With you Hades it can never be a simple as a `visit'.” He never showed his face above ground unless he wanted something and it was never anything good.

            ; “My apologies,” Poseidon turned to glare at Hades self-satisfied grin, his ingratiating chivalrous airs never ceased to grate him persistently since childhood. “Astute as ever Poseidon, I was looking for a sparring partner.”

            ; “Again too simple.” Hades walked in also approaching the sword rack, they stood shoulder to shoulder facing opposite directions, Poseidon's wealth of verdant curls pulled up into a ponytail gave the illusion of him having a few inches of height on his brother but in actuality they were of the same height and build.

Hands clasped at the small of his back, Hades leaned over to get a closer look at the sole surviving memento of their youth. “I see you haven't discarded it, I'm very glad.”

            ; “I'll give you a match on the condition you speak your piece and take your leave when we're finished.”

            ; “So abrupt Poseidon, are you trying to say I'm unwelcome here?”

            ; “What I'm trying to say is no matter how much you love inciting chaos into the lives of others, that changes now. This is my palace and you will show me the proper respect-”

            ; “Just as you'd show me in my home.” Hades smoothed a hand down a wall panel depicting cranes feeding in a pond with tigers laying in wait within the reeds. “Is this new?”

            ; “Recent enough.”

            ; “Excellent craftsmanship…”

Poseidon cleared his throat. “Would you like his name?”

            ; “Individuality is an attractive personality trait,” Hades splayed his fingers on the downy-soft column of Poseidon's neck. “I would never take that away from you… brother…” He bit his earlobe with his lips. Poseidon unsure if he was merely distracted or as always held down in his brother's thrall like the condemned in Tartarus when he felt Hades' greedy hands slithering into his gi sleeves.

            ; “Kisama!” Poseidon bellowed ramming an elbow into his brother's solar plexus and drew his sword throwing the rack across the room. “TAAAH!” Red-hot sparks burned oxygen as steel crashed against steel. “ZETTAI NI MAKENAI!!”

            ; “You talk too much brother, thus leaving yourself wide open.” Hades calmly replied. Hades was unarmed as Poseidon observed when he opened the door, then again seeing was not believing. On the other side of the maritime citadel a pile of sewing laid on a low lacquer table, needle and thread were put down and a silver backed hand mirror was picked up. Amphitrite gaily hummed bringing her chin down and turned to her left; her glossy chestnut hair was pulled behind her ear with an emerald and diamond leaf-shaped hair ornament. Poseidon's first gift after their wedding night, an expression of his love after her show of devotion and obedience. Clashing swords and battle cries carried over to her side of the palace, her brother-in-law it seems was paying them a visit. As much as she longed to see her lord and husband in the heat of combat the dojo was barred to anyone who had no purpose in there. The thumping of feet on the hardwood floor made her put down the mirror.

            ; “My lady,” a slave kowtowed.

            ; “What is it?” Amphitrite asked.

            ; “His lordship asks for his supper.” With pride Amphitrite prepared all of Poseidon's meals, a talent probably lacking by that bitch Hecate. Oh yes, she knew of his insane infatuation with that cave-dwelling witch.

            ; “Very good.” Amphitrite made haste to the kitchen where the slave who sent for her reported that some superb eels were brought in. She was having a difficult time deciding whether to use clear or fish broth for the soup.

 

 

*           *            *

 

 

            ; Fresh from bathing dressed in clean togas, Poseidon and Hades lounged in the dining hall on their couches. The master of the house sat with his arms folded and eyes closed while his brother languorously reclined like a great red feline palming a pectoral. “Drama queen.” Poseidon grumbled.

            ; “Still upset about the match, brother?” The green-haired god cracked an eye open in his direction. “Or the bath?” Poseidon flinched before he had time to stifle himself, one of Hades' principal talents was pushing buttons and he was expert at doing so with the relatives. “We had our baths together as children all the time, I don't see a problem. Is cleanliness such a shameful thing?” Poseidon inhaled through his nostrils sharply trying to gather himself before he brained Hades with a vase.

            ; “I like to think it's more of a personal time thing. Furthermore I don't need anyone to scrub my back for me, especially if they're uninvited!” Hades sighed dramatically and nothing was said for a good while until the wine was brought in, Poseidon lifted his gold goblet to be filled and Hades' waited patiently until his was filled to pick it up off the table allowing the servant to take as much time as needed. He dropped the pretty boy a wink to which Poseidon chuffed at.

            ; “Jealous brother?” Hades couldn't wait until the doors closed behind the servant to make his retort.

            ; “You're shameless.”

            ; “You act as though it's unnatural.” Poseidon rolled the warm rosy liquid around his mouth contemplating its bouquet and how long the euphoric effects would take to set in, if at all.

            ; “Only when you're involved.” Hades set his goblet down with a flourish and laced his fingers together.

            ; “How does married life suit you, brother?” Poseidon's brow wrinkled trying to decipher whatever scheme this line of inane questioning was connected to.

            ; “No major changes nor traumatic differences to say the least.” The doors burst open and the meal was laid out, three servant girls lead by Amphitrite set out fowl, a tureen of soup, salad, a tray of sliced watermelon, cheese that bled goat's milk at the touch of a knife, and loaves of bread. “Why do you ask?” The servant girls darted away feeling the lava boiling over within the volcano that was their master but Amphitrite who was refilling her husband's cup was not so lucky, Poseidon cuffed her tiny wrist and walked her around the table until she was seated at his side laying her head in his lap. He contracted his fingers in her hair selfishly Poseidon challenging his brother's smirk with his violet slits.

            ; “Congratulate me brother, I'm taking a wife.” Hades beamed. Poseidon puckered his mouth into an odd grin like he'd bit into a blackberry with a dung beetle in it but his pride wouldn't permit him to spit it out.

            ; “Weren't Mnemosyne's nine daughters- especially the three who serve you- enough? What about Acantha, and behind Athena's back- you tempted the Fates with that one Hades! And rumor has it you seduced Apollo. And we mustn't forget that whole incident with Ares…”

            ; “A colorful past I had with memories that I will continue to enjoy, but I am well past the appropriate age and need a queen by my side.”

            ; “Mmm,” Poseidon sipped from his goblet and brought it down for Amphitrite to drink from. She took a deep draught. “And what will our dearest Celeste say when you tell her the joyous news?” Their youngest sibling Celeste Goddess of the Eternal Candle shared the Underworld palace with her favorite of her three elder brothers. The little malignant bitch was an upstart at Olympus vociferously cutting into any and every deity regardless of their station or power, accusing them of jealousy over Hades' superiority and conspiracy to seize his power. The flaxen-haired mite could have fizzled her candle out long ago unnecessarily expending so much energy but it was excellent promotion for Hades' ruthlessness. A good commander knows how and when to test his strength no matter the cost.

            ; “Whose marriage is this Poseidon, mine or hers?”

            ; “You're the one who lives with her.” He kissed the top of Amphitrite's head.

            ; “And she is well aware as to who's house she lives in and who's laws she will obey.” Hades wet his lips when he saw the abraded bands around Amphitrite's wrists, he knew that his brother had most extreme tastes but looks were deceiving with his queen who seemed she might be knocked to the ground by a breeze. “Amphitrite pleases you.”

            ; “She is most…” Poseidon lifted his queen's face to see her eyes glimmer with unshed tears of supplication. “…Surprising.”

            ; “Not worse for wear are you?”

            ; “You may prefer helter-skelter for your personal amusement brother, I myself run a neat and tidy ship… with a firm hand.” Poseidon walloped Amphitrite's shapely rump with a calloused hand, she reared back jaw dropping in silent exaltation.

            ; “Ever the disciplinarian. How assiduous of you.”

            ; “Take good advice brother: it might be suitable for you to adopt a more paternal attitude with these goddesses. Letting them run wild makes a man most effeminate.” Hades gratefully cleaned his plate and refilled his cup then stretched bringing his arms forward, his bones crunched pleasantly.

            ; “I prefer them wild…” Several erotic images of a naked Persephone swimming in white rose petals zipped through his head. The last of which was especially stimulating, Persephone herself in the throes of passion brought on by her own hands.

            ; “So let's not keep everyone in suspense brother… who is your intended?”

            ; “Persephone.” Poseidon fixed Hades with such a glare that could crumble Parthenon where it stood; Amphitrite dropped the wine goblet washing the sea foam marble in red. “You are a madman! Do you know what can happen?” Poseidon jumped off his couch and stalked the room. “You may give a damn about what happens on Earth,” Hades yawned, “but we're the ones who will have to deal with the aftermath of Demeter's wrath if you honestly think you're going to kidnap her only child!” There was obviously no getting through to Poseidon knowing his temper he could invoke a tsunami and that would make Hades just feel only slightly guilty.

            ; “Assiduous as always, brother.” Hades rose from his couch and gestured to a servant to bring his things. “Come to my wedding brother, it wouldn't be a celebration without you or your lovely queen.”

 

 

*           *            *

 

 

            ; Sunrise was more than an hour away but Persephone sat on her unmade bed dressed for the day, none too excited to receive her handmaids. She hadn't the patience or the concentration to plait her hair bending with the summery breeze around her hips; her sleep was erratic waking every other hour. The dreams were disjointed; certain Persephone was that that was done intentionally forcing her to resort to using her imagination. She saw little but she felt everything: a hot gust of air on her wet nipple… another mouth and tongue connecting with hers… lips latching on red streamers…

            ; In the distance something shattered, Persephone sprung from the bed and stuck her upper half out the window scanning the veranda. Clumps of red soil and bits of ceramic dusted the sunbleached tiles; a vase was broken possibly by some small animal hunting for breakfast then giving up when all it found were violets. Persephone picked up the ceramic shards carefully cupping them in her left hand and dumped them into a bin, she was just about to run to the kitchens to find someone with a broom when she saw lying on the dirt mound a red rose petal. Ready to close her fingers around it the petal took flight when a sea breeze rolled in with the tide. It drifted below into the gardens where Persephone was quick to follow seeing it disappear and she scampered out into the meadow surrounding Demeter's temple. The magenta chiaroscuro made it difficult since colors blended into one another but Persephone pushed ahead until she stumbled upon a half blown rose, its stem gracefully tall rising from the ground and unlike the petal she found this one was white. The blossom unwound when a narrow perfect beam of light splashed down from heaven, sallow and pure kissed it. “Nani kore?” Persephone stooped down the rose moved in time with her and the flower as if nodding in approval leant over as something fell from its heart. Persephone held her hand out to catch the tiny shimmering orb watching it reshape itself on her palm. The thick silver band flattened on the front forming a red rose emblem. “How beautiful! I wonder…”

            ; She didn't hesitate and it fit perfectly on her finger, but something dropped into her gut slicing through and through. What had she done? The sound of a million thoroughbreds rushed upon her and Persephone forcing her feet forward though the feeling in her legs were draining vainly running for the sanctuary of the temple gates. Debris and earth lifted into the air surrounding her as the ground divided into a hellish chasm, Persephone's screams went unheard in the wee hours and she tumbled into the white steam blowing in her face unable to see who broke her fall. The four nightmarish black chargers pulling a chariot at breakneck speed was the last thing Persephone recalled before she was dragged under a narcotic swoon.

 

 

*           *            *

 

 

            ; Hades worked Persephone's jaws as she teetered between sleep and wakefulness. She honestly didn't know whether she wanted to be in either. He uncoiled her braid never wanting to see her hair done like that again, so unfit for a queen and he was sure it was Demeter's doing to have Persephone remain so girlish. The servant girls patiently waited each eyeballing one another to hold their tongues not to rouse his temper. He disengaged himself grinning triumphantly allowing them to carry her away to her bath, the guests would arrive soon and he needed to prepare as well.

            ; Persephone felt wetness lapping at her breasts and back, drowsily she was made to kneel up as sheets of warm water polished the pink froth from her body. In the shallow tub a pair of servants supported the spring maiden mindful of the tranquilizing drink they gave her to alleviate nerves and stifle protests. Her knees forced wide apart on the black and white tiling Persephone felt her diaphragm constrict and pull upwards when a long, blunt digit worked its way into her sex oiling the orifice with her juices imploding within rolling down her divine channel in preparation for Hades. All the slaves kept their eyes down and waited for their master to finish toying with his bride. Persephone made the little that she could out from under her trembling lashes, some splashes of red and a powerful sandpapery suction on her nipples she couldn't help the grunt that escaped from her throat and felt a sudden drop when everything stopped. She was wet, groggy, and alone. Time whirled by in a miasma; Persephone sat before a mirror feeling silky hands dress her and make up her face. They rouged her lips, rimmed her eyes in kohl, and brushed her hair with silver dust until it shone glossily. Properly gowned and bejeweled she sized herself up in the mirror acutely aware of herself- it was beastly! The gossamer stole tickled, confused, and annoyed her. Her white toga fell to the floor, a row of pink roses festooned her waist, circlets of platinum stars woven into a coronet of white roses for her hair, platinum cuffs on both wrists engraved with rosebuds, and her wrap clasped to her right shoulder by a silver star brooch. Attire meant for a queen, but Persephone didn't recognize who that was in the glass.

            ; “My lady,” a servant said from the open doors, “it's time.” There was no escape and she couldn't fight her way out, Persephone resigned herself to following the attendant curious as to what was to take place. Energetic buzzing emitted from the main gallery, as there were a great many people Persephone presumed. Silver torches bearing white flames gave the room's atmosphere a less forbidding feel, steel red struts supported the arches, and the black marble floor so crystalline it looked as if one walked on a shaded sea. Seated, the wedding guests awaited the bridal couple hypothesizing different scenarios about the ceremony. The powder blue haired twins Artemis and Apollo only told apart by his lyre and her bow and arrow assumed Persephone would cut and run based on Artemis' hunting expeditions near the grounds of Demeter's temple. Her daughter was athletic and willful, unresigned to docility. However she might openly attack Hades, as Acantha pointed out she was skilled in magic as well. Nestled between Athena fussing with her tangerine gun barrel curls every few minutes and a perturbed Ares whose bleached blue forelock obscured his left eye.

            ; Working a groove into the floor was Celeste uproariously outdoing everyone draped in a gleaming spun gold satin mesh toga, airily pulling behind her was a train of lemony taffeta. Her fair hair furiously glowing with her candlelight, a plaited lock circled her head anchored by topaz and yellow diamonds. Platinum bangles clanked forcefully on her wrists as she bit a sculpted thumbnail haplessly trying to figure out what possessed her dearest brother. Was he not pleased with her? Did she not keep order of his palace to his satisfaction? Shrinking in a corner wanting to nothing but to sink into the walls were three muses, Celeste's handmaidens. There was no way to prepare themselves either mentally or physically for their mistress' rage following the wedding feast. But those insects were the farthest things from her mind. Instead a young man gaily chattering with Amphitrite who was garbed in a silver and green trimmed magenta toga matching her king's was in the crosshairs. Cupid, the pretty man-child with fine olive skin and powdery lavender hair could be to blame. She counted the gold and lead arrows in his quiver continually. Uselessly trying to engage Poseidon was his older sister the love goddess Aphrodite in understated silver satin with her dark hair swept up with pearls. She too was a potential suspect. Poseidon bared his teeth and directed his heliotrope glare to the open doors every other minute was exhausting her patience. Finally Persephone was announced and Celeste hastily took her place with the guests wedging herself betwixt Ares and Artemis unnoticing their protests and frustrated grunts until she got settled in. Persephone was presented and the court dutifully stood to greet and dissect her.

            ; They acknowledged her with the tiniest of nods; Apollo was the most receiving smiling unrestrainedly inspiring some hope in Persephone that she may find an ally in him. Celeste glowered unabashedly, Athena crooked an eyebrow, and Ares grinned cannily. Artemis tittered a high artificial, yellow giggle shielding her lips with the back of her slender hand. Acantha was silent and averted her plum eyes when Persephone went to meet them, Amphitrite was ready to launch into a reunion sob fest when Poseidon locked his demanding arms about her narrow waist and said to Persephone without grousing a word: `Interfere and you will pay.' The spring maiden refused to be intimidated and glared back at him fathoming her dearest friend was abducted as well. To demonstrate his fearless dominion he fisted her dark hair pulling her cranium back until it bobbed against his chest and pushed his tongue in her mouth. Eros and Aphrodite scoffed in unison turning their noses away. Persephone couldn't help but keep her eyes glued to the lewd way their tongues parried against one another, purposefully not sealing their mouths together. The crown of Amphitrite's head bounced against Poseidon's neck as he aped behind her twisting nipples through satin and kneading her breasts. Would this be what her husband would demand from her- and publicly no less! The doors opened once more and a priest scampered to the front of the hall, Amphitrite and Poseidon ceased their lusting, Persephone turned her back to the crowd hands flattened on her chest when someone else walked in. She felt him just over her shoulder his breathing tolerant, softly escaping his nostrils. He was waiting for her.

            ; “Konai de!” The guests leapt a mile and Hades put his arm down bending it behind his back again. “I hate you…”

            ; “But why?”

Persephone was more composed when she opened her mouth again. “I want out of here this instant! How dare you terrorize the world above? Have you no shame for your actions? What is your purpose for bringing me down to this cesspit? Do you care for nothing?” His silence only fired the furnace higher under her heart making her temples knotty. “ANSWER ME!!” Celeste advanced two steps prepared to magick her into Tartarus' nadir when Ares bridled her.

            ; “As I gentleman I can only beg your forgiveness.” Hades' bow nearly made the ends of his hair sweep the floor.

            ; “Don't bother begging, I only ask for my freedom.”

            ; “That, lady, I cannot do.”

            ; “Why?”

            ; “Because I love you.”

 

 

*           *            *

 

 

            ; Hades gave Persephone the impression of ignoring her throughout the wedding feast. He studied her carefully from his peripheral vision as she left her full plate and wine cup alone, then retired before the first guest could leave. The servants escorted her down a chilly passageway that the ground felt wet from under her silver sandals. Unlike the room she was bathed and dressed in, this one had little light and the daunting black satin four-poster's curtains hissed in a mysterious breeze. She was made to stand still as she was disrobed; the servant girls' fingers deliberately tickled and caressed her, Persephone's blood rising up to the flesh and struck like a tuning fork wildly alive and in tune to their tantalizing touches. A pink silk gown was thrown up and over her head cascading around her like a bell, a ribbon no wider than her smallest finger was tied on the back of her neck holding the gown up her body. The servants vacated as mice would upon hearing the mistress' cat creeping for its cream in the kitchen. Persephone stared at herself in the mirror once more, and once more didn't know who she was looking at. The candlelight reflected a corona of white embers around her in the glass, and lifting a finger to the cool surface she carefully outlined the shape of a rose taking its shy first breath, so absentminded was the Spring Maiden she didn't see Hades standing right behind her.

            ; Before she could break away, Hades seized her left hand teasing the web of her thumb and pinched her chin gently between his thumb and index finger in his other hand. “Don't you think we look well together?” He asked lowering his head until it became level with hers, his indigo-blue eyes fastened on hers in the mirror. Sad, hungry tears formed in Persephone's eyes but she wasn't quite sure why anymore.

            ; “Please…” But there was no sense behind her entreaties since all was lost. She was Hades' queen and wife, and his to do with as he wished. It could be his pleasure simply to stand here and gaze at her and pet her, or he could chain her to the wall naked upside down. Her lower lip quivered, and some low animal-like mewls trickled from her throat, because no matter how much her mind told her to thrash and run Persephone felt this indescribable joy sharing this warm light with Hades.

            ; “What is it my love, hmm? What do you want to say?” Persephone heaved out a sob turning into his chest and pressed her moist, flushed face over his heart relishing its drum beats right in time with hers. “No, no,” Hades cooed. “All isn't lost. You have me.” His face lit up though he couldn't convince his bride otherwise. Curling his fingers around her upper arms he turned her back to facing the mirror, this time he pulled the nightdress' ribbon and down the pink silk rippled puddling around her feet. She heard light clicks of gem clasps snapping apart and Hades' black toga landed on the floor. Vulnerability was ubiquitous and to prove himself to be true the Underworld king brought down his defenses, the drafting warmth of dreams gave way to reality as Persephone watched his expression shift from self-assurance to weariness. And yet Hades continued drawing his sensual pathways on his queen's body, fingers stroking her taut belly upward rolling her breasts causing Persephone to back up against him robustly groaning. Cradled in her rump was his robust erection, a pearl of fluid leaving its mark on her charged flesh. Pulling her towards the bed Hades sat on the edge Persephone falling onto his lap, thighs spread securely tucking his legs between hers. His eyes issued a silent command for her to keep her eyes on the mirror. His cock an iron-hard spit, broiling hot from turning over golden coals jutted upwards pressing onto her swollen sex.

            ; “Ah…”

            ; “Shh!” Hades hissed then cupped and spread her ass to give himself room and Persephone assisted him, unsure of her willingness took his oiled shaft inside and grunted loudly when he broke her innocence. Her soaked muscles clamped down on him as she thrusted and galloped, the pleasure knotted and flailed out into her limbs. Redness branched out like ivy on her torso illuminating her breasts. Hades with his head bent down pulling her nipples already little pebble caps ready to burst when Persephone froze still calling out for him and just on the brink of oblivion. His hands locked on her hips scooted upwards laying flat on the bed embracing Persephone with one arm under her breasts and the other with his hand splayed over her tight vagina scratching her clit resumed his plunges, violently moving upwards until Persephone's lithe figure racked with orgasm churned wildly above him bellowing his name until she relinquished her body and only then did he fly into bliss with her.

 

 

            ; TSUZUKU