Flowers for the Dead Ch. 04

Thank you to everyone for your positive words! It means so much!

Just a little content warning for this chapter, there is mention of suicide. If this may be upsetting to you, please skip the scene at the gate. There will be an asterisk (*) located at the beginning of the paragraph that details this content. Two asterixis will indicate the end.

Thank you! Read on, lovelies.

~ ~ ~

Daphne awoke begrudgingly. From the soreness in her muscles and the drool on her pillow, she knew she had been asleep for hours. She stretched her aching limbs and found that she was in the vast bed alone. As she looked around, it seemed that the entire bedchamber was empty. She listened for sounds of Hades presence; she was met with only the sound of the crackling of the fireplace on the other side of the room. Satisfied that she was alone, she sat up and drew her knees to her chest. She sighed as she pulled a nearby blanket around her shoulders. Even with the heat of the fire that Hades had no doubt kindled with her in mind, she was still terribly cold.

Daphne rested her head on her knees and sighed. Was this to be her life? Was some love-drunk collector of souls going to be her...husband? Could she ever leave this cavernous expanse of death and stone to see her family and friends again? There weren't even any plants here.

She sighed once more as she heaved her stiff body out of bed. She shivered as her bare legs and feet met cool air and stone floor. She searched for her pajama pants until she found them, unceremoniously tossed onto a rock nightstand next to the bed. After dressing, Daphne took a closer look at the stand. It seemed to be made of a black gemstone of some sort, maybe obsidian. It was covered with intricate carvings depicting a number of people, all wearing a variant of Grecian robes. Her eyes wandered over the various images with everyone: lightening, chariots, weapons of war, and a bundle grain. Maybe, these were depictions of the ancient Greek gods. She ran her fingers over the cool stone, searching. Her gaze passed over the coarse surface until—there he was: Hades, looking nearly identical in stone relief as he did when she had last seen him. Daphne traced her fingertips along his image. Here he was, in all of his power, with one strong hand resting on the head of an enormous three-headed dog.

Daphne shook her head and turned away. Surely, somehow, this was all a façade. Maybe her abductor was delusional and obsessed with mythology.

Of course! Maybe this is just some cavern on the outskirts of the city. His clothing could easily be something he purchased somewhere or made himself. And that weird thing about my smelling of flowers. Maybe he's a botanist too. He could be a stalker with a strange imagination. But...the river. He couldn't have created that. That was real. Which means...this is all real.

Daphne tugged her hair nervously, "What sort of madness is this?", she said aloud.

She paced about the room, growing steadily more frenzied. Perhaps, she could find something in this room that would make sense of this. Something to provide her with comfort. She was beginning to feel hopelessly trapped, and very lonely.

Daphne looked about. The bedroom was massive. The ceilings were high and made of stone, just like practically everything else. The stone of the ceiling was veined with fluorescent streaks of crystal that glowed like moonlight. For a while, Daphne just stared. For a moment, she felt as if she was under the night sky, star-gazing. When her gaze returned to the surroundings that were not quite as lofty, a single tear rolled down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly. Crying wouldn't get her anywhere. She would save herself.

Daphne peered behind every corner. She pulled aside every drape and tapestry in her search for some hint, some clue. Instead, she found only vases, statuettes, and things. As she made her way around the perimeter of the chamber, she spotted a door. It wasn't the exit. Daphne cautiously pushed the heavy, wooden door open and gasped.

It was a bathroom, or at least she thought it was. It was unlike any one she had ever seen. The room was vast, just smaller than the bedchamber. The ceiling was just as high and riddled with the same glowing crystal. The room was immensely warmer than anywhere else she had been. In the center of the room was a spacious pool made of polished marble. Steam curled from the water's surface. Surrounding the tub was a shallow stream of clear water. Daphne peered closely. The stream was free of any spirits of the deceased. Along the walls were tall pillars and sconces alight with familiar, blue flame. In the grooves of the stone walls were silver pitchers and jars. Daphne hesitantly inspected the contents of those closest to her. They contained perfumed oils and various dried herbs. Another held what appeared to be salt. At the end of the room was another door. She would inspect that later. For now, all she wanted was a long, hot bath.

Daphne quickly disrobed, folding her pajamas neatly beside her. She climbed the steps to the water's edge and dipped her foot into the water. It was deliciously warm. But what caught her eye gave her pause. On both of her legs were fingertip-sized bruises. There were four on either side of her waist. Looking at her wrists, she noticed a few there too. She quickly submerged her body into the comforting depths in an effort to clear her head. She closed her eyes and let out a long sigh of contentment. This was bliss. Maybe for a moment, she could forget what he had done to her. As she sank lower into the water, she realized that it was fragranced. She took a deep breath. Lavender, her favorite scent. She smiled and waded further into the large water. On one side of the bath was a pile of linens and soaps. Daphne picked up a square of soap and a small cloth and began to scrub herself clean. She sighed again as she worked a lather through her hair. While the subs soaked into her curls, she tended to the rest of her body. When the rough cloth grazed her labia, she winced. She hadn't realized how sore she was from the night before. Everywhere hurt. Everywhere was bruised.

Now brought out from her state of relaxation, she quickly submerged herself in the water. After her hair and body were rinsed clean of soap, she climbed out. She briskly rubbed oil on her skin and wrapped herself in a nearby length of fabric. After wrapping her hair in another piece of cloth, she hurried out of the bathroom and through the mysterious door at the end of the room. Upon closing the door behind her, Daphne observed her surroundings with awe once again. She had found herself in a small library.

The room was dim, lit only by the flames of a multitude of candles. The ceilings were lower and bereft of any crystal adornment. Every wall was covered in stone bookshelves, each one crammed with stone tablets, aging scrolls, and leather-bound volumes.

This must be what Belle felt like when the Beast showed her the library. But this isn't a fairytale and Hades sure-as-hell isn't my Prince Charming.

Daphne quickly began scanning the contents of the library, in hopes of finding some solution to her quandary. An unusual volume on the bottom shelf caught her eye. It appeared to be a glossy, hard-covered journal. It looked like something that could have been bought from any store. With its brightly-colored cover and still-white pages, it did not quite blend in with the other aging manuscripts surrounding it. Daphne pulled it and a few other tomes from the shelf. Starting with the older volumes first, she unfurled scrolls and quickly flipped through pages. They were all written in Greek. Daphne swore under her breath. She hadn't thought of that. She opened the newest journal in hopes that Hades had decided to write in a different language, one she could understand. Instead, she found only the unfamiliar script of the Greek alphabet. Daphne paused as she passed a page that she could understand. It was an image, drawn on one of the last pages of the journal. The sketch depicted a woman walking through the city. Her skin was shaded darkly with pencil. The woman was wearing a denim overall dress and a familiar pair of boots.

Is this a drawing of m—

Daphne's thoughts were interrupted when suddenly a winged creature swooped down from the rafters. Daphne shrieked and covered her head as her towel fell at her feet.

"Some things pester you even in the afterlife," chuckled a deep, familiar voice.

Daphne scrambled to cover herself as she turned to face Hades, who was fighting a smile.

"The bats eat the vermin that would otherwise make a feast of my library," as Hades spoke he took in the vision before him. The linen Daphne had wrapped herself in left very little to the imagination. In the cool of the library, her nipples had hardened and were clearly visible through the thin cloth. Her hips were just covered by the length of the towel. If he slid his hand underneath, he could very easily slip his fingers into her folds.

Daphne was oblivious to the lust in Hades' eyes. She was preoccupied with the towel which she now realized hardly covered her.

"Hades, I was just—," Daphne's blushed as she stumbled over her words, "I was just—."

"Exploring your domain?" Hades offered with a smirk.

"Yes. I was exploring." Daphne crossed her arms over her breasts.

"Well," Hades cleared his throat. "I suppose you would like more appropriate vestments for your exploration."

The blush in Daphne's face spread to her ears. "Yes, please."

"Come," Hades said as he offered his hand.

Daphne secured her towel in one hand before she clumsily accepted Hades' grasp with the other.

"I—I didn't mean to snoop," Daphne stammered.

"Yes, you did," Hades chuckled, "Why else would you be reading my diaries?"

Daphne blanched as she was led through the library and into the steam-filled bathroom.

"I'm not upset," Hades offered, "Unless, of course, you learned Greek in college and I just never noticed."

Daphne struggled to keep up with the god's long stride.

"No—" she tripped over her feet— "But there was a drawing of me from the other day." Was it yesterday? Daphne hadn't seen the sun in ages.

"Was there?" Hades asked as they entered the bedroom, "Am I not permitted to capture my wife's beauty with graphite?" Hades let go of Daphne's hand and turned to look at her. His steady gaze traveled over every inch of her body.

"That's not what I meant," Daphne squirmed under his intense stare, "I was just wondering what else was in the journal. About me."

Hades strode to a stone wardrobe and opened its doors.

"Just a few things I have observed about this incarnation of you," Hades said absently as he rummaged through an array of fabrics, "Come here, darling."

Daphne adjusted her towel and padded over to the wardrobe. She was sure to keep a safe distance between herself and her captor.

"What sort of things?" Daphne inched just a bit closer to Hades and peeked into the closet. It was full of fabrics similar to the one draped around Hades' body. Unlike the rich blue of his chiton, these cloths were in bright, warm colors.

"Just some observations," he muttered, "Hold out your arm, love."

Daphne did as he bade her, careful to keep one arm around her chest.

Hades lifted two lengths of cloth to her forearm. One was a soft peach hue; the other was marigold. Hades tilted his head and squinted. He removed the peach-colored fabric from its place and handed it to her.

"Put this on."

Daphne took the fabric into her grasp. "I don't know how."

"Ah yes. There are no longer fashionable, are they?" Hades closed the wardrobe. "Let me show you."

And with that, Hades removed the fibula from his shoulder. His broad chest was in full view.

"You don't have to undress! Just explain it to me!" Daphne turned away, mortified by his impending nudity.

"Just do as I do," chuckled Hades as he untied the zoster around his waist.

Daphne turned back before covering her eyes again. Apparently, Greek gods didn't wear underwear.

"For heaven's sake, would you cover yourself?"

Hades laughed again, "Are you embarrassed? All that you see here is yours."

"I'm embarrassed! So, please..."

"Anything for you, dear one," Hades said as he draped the fabric over his shoulder, "Lay the chiton like so, across your chest."

Daphne followed, "Like this?" she asked as she placed the material over her shoulder.

"Exactly. If you wish, it was also very fashionable to leave one breast exposed for a more demure look," he said with a wink.

Daphne scowled. "Will you get on with it, please?"

Hades bowed with a dramatic flourish, "As you wish."

He handed his bride a leather and gold zoster, "Tie this around your waist. That's perfect."

As Daphne fastened the belt around her waist, she let the towel fall to the ground.

Hades handed her a gold brooch adorned with sparkling gems, "Pin this to your shoulder. I'll fetch the Lampades to arrange your hair."

Daphne looked up as she fastened the fibula to her attire.

"The what?"

She received no reply. Hades was already out the door.

Daphne frowned.

I don't want any more surprises.

While she waited for Hades' return, Daphne took a closer look at what he'd given her to wear. The material of the robe was tightly woven. It draped elegantly over her curves and moved as she did. Despite its lightness of weight, the material was not sheer. A bit too long, the fabric gathered around the soles of her bare feet.

Spotting a mirror she hadn't noticed before, Daphne slowly took in her reflection. The image before her appeared majestic—regal, even. The peach hue of the fabric made her skin look rich and bright. The gold accents accentuated the sun-kissed highlights in her dark hair. She looked like royalty.

Absorbed in the details of her attire, Daphne was startled as a heavy gust of wind thrust the door open and extinguished the torches on the walls. She was plunged into darkness, except for the gentle glow of the ceiling crystal. The gale brought in a thick, grey haze. Through it walked cluster of unnerving phantoms. She could hardly see them, but she could hear the high-pitched rasp of their voices.

"She's finally here!"

"His Lordship must be so pleased!"

"He's only been waiting a few thousand years."

"She's much too beautiful for him."

"She looks so alive, doesn't she? I wish my cheeks would glow like that."

As the figures entered the room, the torchlight ignited anew. Daphne's heart raced as she became encircled by six mysterious figures.

They were dark, hooded cloaks that covered long, ink-black locks. Their skin was a peculiar shade of grey that seemed to shift and swirl like smoke. Their eyes had no whites at all. Rather, they were as black as their hair. In each of their hands, they carried hairbrushes, combs, and jewelry. Daphne could not discern whether they regarded her or not, but each one of them bore a warm smile.

"My Lady," said one stepping forward, "It is an honor to finally meet you."

The ethereal presence placed a heavy gold necklace around Daphne's throat.

"Your Ladyship," said another, "Welcome."

A single gold cuff was closed around her arm.

"Lady Persephone," cooed a third, "Lord Hades has been reborn with your presence. The entire Underworld seems to glow with the promise of what your love will bring. We wish an eternity of blessings."

Gold and pearl bracelets were placed on both her wrists.

Daphne, after a few attempts at using her voice, finally found words.

"Thank—thank you all. But, if you don't mind me asking. Erm, wha—who are you? I've never met anyone quite like you all before..." She nervously tugged at a strand of her hair.

A fourth creature giggled, an unnerving sound that echoed through the bed chamber.

"We are the Lampades, nymphs of the Underworld."

Daphne nodded, knowing full well she had no clue what that meant, "Oh, I see."

A Lampad behind her clapped excitedly, making Daphne jump nervously.

"Come, everyone! Our Lady's hair will not coif itself! We have a task to complete."

And with that, Daphne was whirled in front of a vanity. Twelve hands began to pull and comb the wet strands of her hair. Daphne winced, but said nothing. The Lampades seemed good-natured, but she decided not to risk upsetting them by complaining. A warm oil dripped onto her scalp. Once the dozen hands worked the oil through her curls, the combing and styling went much more painlessly. As the Lampades finished, a gold and gemstone diadem was placed atop Daphne's head.

"Radiant!" exclaimed one of her attendants.

"She looks like a true queen," said another.

~ ~ ~

The fog in the room dissipated as Hades strode into the bedchamber. He stopped dead in his tracks as his cool, grey eyes landed on his bride. His lips parted as he took in the sight before him. Daphne sat before the vanity mirror, her eyes downcast. Her hair, previously a dripping cloud of curls, was now twisted and braided into an intricate style beneath a golden adornment. At her throat rested a sparkling necklace that accented her collarbones. The focal point of the necklace sat just at her sternum. Hades' gaze traveled down her chest. He pictured her full breasts beneath the fabric of her chiton. Surely, she was cold. He was sure her luscious nip—

Daphne looked up and met Hades' heavy gaze. For a moment, a ghost of a smile danced across her features. It was quickly replaced with sullen indifference. She was truly as fickle as the Spring.

Unshaken, Hades continued his stride to his twin flame. He smiled at the nymphs who stood surrounding her.

"Exquisite work. You have done your duty and more. Leave us, if you would be so kind," he bowed slightly in dismissal.

"It is our pleasure, Lord Hades. We have awaited her arrival as you have. She is truly a marvel," cooed a Lampad. She and the others drifted from the room, taking the last tendrils of fog with them.

Daphne shifted in her seat uncomfortably, feeling like an art piece at a museum. She stared at her hands, hoping that Hades would just leave her alone. All the attention had made her face and ears burn with embarrassment. She fiddled with the weighty gold earrings in her ears.

Just leave. Just leave. Just leave.

"Look at me, my love."

Damn it all.

Daphne turned to comply with his request. She was careful to hold her head high under the unfamiliar weight of the diadem.

Hades sat rigidly on the edge of a sofa adjacent to the vanity. He raked a hand through his dark waves.

"Am I so terrible?"

Daphne made no reply. Instead, she steadied her gaze the fire that still blazed in the hearth.

"Would you have not done the same?"

Daphne continued to sit in silence. She could feel tears of frustration begin to burgeon. Still, she sat quiet and unmoving. Her mind raged with feelings of shame, anger, sorrow, and resentment. She would not waste any words or tears on the god before her.

Hades continued to stare at her. He was determined to make her understand. The endless waiting had made him unimaginably patient.

"You were made for me, Persephone. And I, you. I do not exist simply to rule the Underworld. My heart was created to be ruled by you. We are destined for one another. Do you not feel it? We are drawn to each other, my love. Fighting it will only bring you more sadness. I can smell it on you."

Daphne shut her eyes to keep any the tears from escaping. She could not understand why his words affected her so. She shook her head and turned away.

I'm just overwhelmed. I feel hatred toward him, nothing more. I will hate him until my last breath.

Hades continued. She would listen to him. She had nowhere else to go.

"You can tell yourself whatever you need to hear, Persephone. But you are mine. We are bound by spirit and by flesh. After thousands, thousands, of years, I have claimed you fully. All I ask is that you allow yourself to feel it. Feel that we are meant for one another. Did you not sense it when our binding was complete? When I filled you? If you cannot sense that are souls are one, then surely you can feel that are bodies are—"