Flowers for the Dead Ch. 06

"You didn't kill him," Hades observed, as if this was not obvious.

He was sprawled on a stone kline, appearing to read the men's magazine he'd pilfered from Dylan Stanford's kitchen. He flipped nonchalantly between the glossy pages of cologne advertisements and raunchy articles, pausing momentarily when something caught his attention.

Daphne was perched cross-legged on a lush patch of moss. Her hands moved idly as thin vines wove betwixt thin fingers. Spores of Ophiocordyceps unilateralis still clung to her palms. She thought of how quickly the fungus had spawned at her command. In just a split second, Dylan had gone from a sauntering smart-ass to an empty shell entirely in her control. How easily she could have let the fungus continue to take over his body. She could have left him to rot right there in his home, surrounded by wasting luxury. She wondered if anyone would even miss him...

"I wanted to," she muttered. Daphne urged the spores into the soil beneath her.

Hades nodded as he turned another page.

"You would not have been unable to kill him if you had attempted to do so," He added casually.

Daphne shot a harsh glare in Hades' direction.

"I could have if—" she began, voice raised.

"Of course, you are strong enough to have slain him," he said carefully. "It's just not in your nature, my love." Hades folded the magazine carefully and set it aside.

Daphne opened her mouth to retort.

"Give me a moment to explain, if you will." Hades paused until Daphne's temper settled. "As Spring deified, it is in your nature that you create new life. That is why your vocation as a botanist came so naturally. You were able to grow even the most stubborn of flora. On the contrary, the taking of life is contradictory to your purpose in this world. Can you remember ever taking the life of any organism, even accidently? Did you ever smash an ant or overwater a houseplant?"

Daphne frowned, but perused her memory nonetheless. There wasn't a time that she could remember killing anything, even a bothersome fly. She found it strange, for it wasn't as if she had never tried. She had swatted plenty of mosquitoes and overwatered a few plants in her life, but none had ever perished.

"I suppose it's for the best," she conceded, smiling sadly. "I would be just as bad as him, wouldn't I?" Daphne ran her fingers over a patch of furled fiddleheads. She would never find it in herself to destroy them. They were like faithful companions, each unique in their own way.

"You would not be yourself if you had done it. You are meant to give life, not take it. Perhaps, there is some comfort to be found in that. For thousands of years, I have kept company with the ghosts, nymphs, and a handful of bats. Consider yourself lucky," he chuckled.

Daphne couldn't help but to smile in earnest. Hades was trying to lift her spirits; that much was clear in his thoughts. The Olympic god arose from his place of lounging to sit next to his consort. He grasped her hands as thin vines wove between both their fingers.

"Are you feeling unsettled? I know that you were not expecting to see him. Perhaps, I acted to rashly." Hades searched her deep brown eyes for any semblance of anger.

"Why did you bring me to him?" Daphne, too, searched for answers in Hades' storm-grey eyes. She wished that only he had warned her before taking her there. She was unsure that she could properly describe the mess of emotions ransacking her body and mind. Instead, she decided to think as clearly as she could, so that Hade could understand:

Seeing Dylan standing there, as arrogant as ever, made me feel like the a poorly adjusted teenaged weirdo all over again. When he looked at me, it was just like that night. He looked at me like he was deciding what part of me to tear apart first. I went from feeling exposed, on display...to feeling like something to toss out. Brown hair. Green eyes. Beer breath. Sweaty palms. Tangled clothes. Bruised throat. Torn skin. No one will listen, no one will believe...it's my fault my fault my fault my fault my—

"Persephone, I," Hades' voice was strangled with guilt. "I was foolish. I had hoped that your seeing him would make you realize just how insignificant he is when compared to your beauty and power." He reached up to stroke her cheek, vines still creeping along his fingers. He cleared his throat to keep his voice from faltering. "I hurt you...again."

Hades looked down at their now intertwined hands. His, the color of alabaster, and hers, warm as mahogany, were Bound both by fate and an eager bit of field bindweed. He had an eternity to lavish her with love and care, but he couldn't help but to feel he was off to a shaky start.

The pensive deity was pulled from his thoughts as Daphne slid into his lap. Her full hips melded against his, the thinness of her attire doing little to cover her warm folds. She draped her arms around his neck and gazed steadily into his storm-grey eyes.

"I'm strong, Hades. You said it yourself. I'm fine, really." She sighed as her brown eyes drifted to his lips. Her thoughts had clearly shifted from past pain to possible pleasure. He was reminded of Spring showers that quickly led to blinding sun. Her moods were no different.

Hades again cleared his throat in an attempt to stay focused. Her dampening folds were positioned atop his length with just a few layers of thin fabric between them.

"What is it?" she asked, her fingers twirling a particularly curly lock of his hair. Hades was being stoic, but he couldn't entirely obscure his thoughts from her. Daphne could sense that there was something that he wanted to tell her, but she wasn't sure quite what.

Hades cleared his throat a final time, causing Daphne to roll her eyes.

"You're stalling, Hades! Whatever it is, I can ta—"

"You can return to see your family," Hades blurted out.

Daphne's hands stilled. Her breath caught in her throat. Her thoughts were a chaotic mess. Even her scent was impossible for Hades to discern.

Hades decided to ramble on, sure that Daphne would soon have too many questions all at once.

"As our Bond has grown in strength, you can now tread through the mortal realm without the fear of death. I believe that winter has passed, so you ought to be able to harness new elements of your power." Hades turned his head, gazing over the precipice at the swirling river. His dark brow furrowed behind the thickness of his ebony waves. "You should have no trouble leaving. I only ask that you return before the next winter, or autumn, if you can. You will find that your abilities will be greatly lessened during that time...without me."

Daphne sat stationary in Hades' lap. She was, all at once, elated, dejected, and perplexed. She stood quickly, causing the thin vines to finally draw away from her skin.

"What do you mean 'without you'? You're just gonna drop me off?" she queried, rising and standing over him indignantly.

Hades looked upon her resolutely, leaning back on his hands, "I am quite confident that you will not follow the fate of your past incarnations. And the release of my seed inside you will allow you to return, if you wish."

Daphne planted her tightly balled fists on her hips. She huffed, her face settling into a glare. "You don't have to be vulgar."

Hades smirked. His dimples gave him a boyish quality, but his mischievousness lay just beneath the surface.

"Dear one, we both know I can much more vulgar than that." Hades stood. He brushed Daphne's hands aside and gripped her hips. "Would you like me to show you?"

Daphne swatted his herculean chest. "Focus, you brute!" Her eyes dropped low, "How can I see my family?"

"It is no silly rite or ritual like the Lampades conduct. You must simply leave through the Underworld gates and visualize your destination. Simple as that." His hand crept into the assemblage of her curls. "I wouldn't be 'dropping you off', as you say. I expect you to return after harvest season."

"And what if I don't?" she pushed.

Hades released her then. He turned and began to quickly ascend the mossy hillside. "Then you won't," he said nonchalantly.

Daphne scampered uphill and blocked Hades' path.

"Uh-uh, Hades. Don't play. I know you would miss me"

"Nonsense," he retorted. "We have an eternity together. What is a mere season? Or a few centuries?"

Daphne tossed her head foxily and quickened her climb to the gate. "Fine. I'm sure there will be plenty of fine mortal men to keep me company."

"Wait!" Hades called after her. "I'm coming with you!"

The pair stood at the gates of the Underworld, preparing to leave for the mortal realm.

"Are you sure he'll be alright by himself?' Daphne wrung her hands. "What if someone tries to break through the gates?"

Hades chuckled, "I taught him well. He knows which souls are to enter and which must return."

Daphne reached up to rub the belly of the three-headed gate guardian. Jack panted contentedly from each mouth.

"Be a good boy! Don't let in any souls! Tell them all to go back and enjoy life," Daphne said sweetly.

"Darling, that's not how the balance of the universe is maintain—"

"Especially children! Just send them all back to the mortal realm with an encouraging word," she continued.

Hades shook his head and chuckled, "That hound cannot speak a word, my love."

Daphne cut her eyes at Hades. "I don't mean it literally." She gave her furry once-guardian one last scratch before making her way through the wrought-iron gate of the Underworld. As they stepped through, the babble of the river Styx steadily gave way to the startling sounds of the city.

Daphne hesitantly climbed the stairs to her old home, with Hades trailing behind her. Trying the knob, she found the door...unlocked? The pair stepped inside to find the apartment nearly as it had been left. Piles of both opened and unopened mail were stacked in a teetering pile by the door. The living room lamp illuminated the small abode. The television played softly over the din of the city. Its light could hardly compete with the sunlight streaming from the windows. In a thrifted armchair, surrounded by mostly living plants sat Daphne's best friend, Melinda. She sat, distracted, with her head in her hands. At the sound of floorboards creaking, she looked up, rubbing her still-shaven head. Beholding the vision before her, Melinda's eyes widened. Her countenance twisted from shock into a grimace.

"Lovely. Now, I'm hallucinating." Melinda rubbed her hand across her face. She had lost weight. With the light shining behind her, Melinda's features were cast in shadow. Her cheeks appeared sunken; her eyes set deep.

Espying the state of her friend, Daphne rushed to her side. She sat at her feet and laid a careful hand on her friend's knee.

"Mel, it's me," Daphne whispered, her voice thick.

Melinda scoffed ironically, "And I'm hearing things! This must be what it feels like to lose your mind."

Hades crept silently into Daphne's old bedroom. He knew his presence would not aid in the mortal's comprehension of her friend's unfathomable changes.

"There are two toga-wearing ghosts in my missing friend's apartment. Time to see a therapist!" Melinda moved to stand, but Daphne rose faster. She gently, but firmly pushed Melinda back into the chair and stood over her.

"Melinda Eris Thompson, it's really me," she said softly, watching her friend's eyes grow wide.

Melinda shook her head in trembling jerks. Her mouth gaped and snapped shut repeatedly until she was finally able to get a single word out: "No. No, no, no, no, no. You vanished without a trace five months ago and now you're back with some dude in a toga?"

Daphne sat on the edge of the coffee table and watched her friend's distressed incredulity. "Actually, it's a chiton," she blurted.

Melinda turned her head in bewilderment. "It really is you," she breathed.

Daphne nodded, relieved that things would only go more smoothly from here.

Now I can explain. Or...try.

"But who's the man? And why are you all dressed like that? Are you in a cult? You're in a cult! You ran away to join a cult!"

Daphne bit her lip. This wouldn't be easy after all.

"I'm not in a cult. I'm just...different," Daphne offered.

Melinda made a face. "Yeah, obviously. You're way thicker, your hair way longer, and you're wearing some weird-ass costume." Melinda took in the gold and gemstones adorning her friend's skin. "An expensive costume."

Melinda sighed and rubbed her temples. "If you're not in a cult, then why are you dressed like this? Who's that guy? Where have you been all this time?"

Daphne fiddled with the gold charm of one of her bangles. She wrestled with what to tell her friend. The truth was stranger than fiction. But to lie...she couldn't.

"Do—do you remember that pomegranate tree mixed in with the "Fatal Flora" specimens?" Daphne asked.

"Yeah, of course. It was fully matured and bearing fruit," said Melinda hurriedly. What does fruit have to do with anything?

"And you know its association with Greek mythology, right?" Daphne continued.

Melinda rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I do. What does this have to do with where you've been for five fuckin' months?"

Daphne recounted her ordeal in the Underworld, skipping over a few, less pleasant details. As she hurried through the retelling of her journey, Melinda looked just as incredulous as she did before.

"So, now I'm here," finished Daphne with a sigh. She felt relieved. She had been dreading how to tell her friend of her transformation. Now it was done.

Melinda nodded slowly, appearing to digest everything she had heard. She looked up at the ceiling of the small apartment, and back down again into Daphne's gaze.

"Look, Daphne. If you don't want to tell me where you've been, that's fine. But you don't have to make up some crazy story. I won't ask anymore."

For a brief moment, Daphne displaced caution with impulsivity. She extended her arms from the window and back, bringing into her grasp long vines of pothos and string of pearl. With a flourish, Daphne cast the vines toward her friend, loosely binding her limbs in foliage.

Melinda nodded, again appearing to understand the events occurring around her. "Alright, Goddess of Spring. Got it."

Daphne clapped her hands in excitement. "So, you believe me?"

"Yeah," Melinda fidgeted in her seat, "Now, untie me."

As the setting sun cast a scarlet hue among the city, Daphne and her friend sat on her pallet sofa catching up on lost time.

"The 'Fatal Flora' exhibit is bringing in straight bank, Daph. We finally got decent propagation sets and a Keurig for the break room!"

"A Keurig!" Daphne cackled, "Welcome to the 21^st century!"

"21^st century! Girl, you look like you stepped out the 10^th century!"

Daphne cut her eyes at her friend. "That's funny coming from someone dressed like Shane from 'The L Word'."

Melinda wiped a tear from her eye, struggling to breathe through her laughter. "That was good, Daph. I'm not even mad.

"I do have some bad news, though. I haven't seen your dog."

Down the hall, Hades laid on Daphne's unmade bed and fiddled with the tassels of a throw pillow. He felt woefully out of place in her feminine, mortal bedroom. Yards away, his consort giggled and gossiped without a care. He hadn't crossed her mind once, that much was clear in her thoughts. He wondered if the sights and sounds of the mortal world had replaced her memories of him. It had seemed like only moments ago that his dear one was daydreaming of impaling herself on his cock. Now, her thoughts were occupied with garden exhibits and greasy takeout. He resolved to sleep for a bit. Of course, he didn't need to. But it would quell his restlessness to fill his mind with dreams instead.

An hour later, plastic takeout boxes filled with various contents were strewn about Daphne's coffee table. She had not eaten in five months. Her cable bill had been generously paid, so the apartment was filled with the sound of commercials and somber conversation.

Melinda leaned toward her friend, looking at her with stern eyes. "Are you happy?"

Daphne nodded eagerly with a mouthful of food. She swallowed and answered, "I am."

Melinda gestured for her to continue. "Yeah? How? You have powers and cool clothes, but what else do you get out of this? Immortality?"

"It's my destiny, Mel. I was born to be with Hades, as crazy as it sounds. He searched for me for centuries. Now his search is complete." She shrugged.

"That's great for him, but what about you? You had all these plans before you disappeared. You were going to go back to school, travel, do some research. What happens to all that now that you're Mrs. Queen of the Underworld?"

Daphne opened her mouth for a smart retort—but none came. She had no answer. Melinda had valid concerns. Everything that had happened to her of late had been what Hades had wanted, not her. She had been away from her family and friends for five months. And just who was responsible? She was, once again, overwhelmed by it all. Her chest began to grow tight.

What can I tell my parents? Will I even get to see my parents? They must be worried to death about me. What will I tell my friends? What will I tell the cops? I can't go to them. They'll all think I've lost it. Have I? This could still ju—

"Do you love him?" Melinda's question shattered Daphne's flurry of panicked thoughts.

Daphne stared at her friend with wide, watery eyes. Hades had been her everything for what had seemed like a few days, but was truly nearly half a year. She didn't know which sense of time was the right one. She was more connected to him than she had ever been with anyone, sharing their bodies and their thoughts with one another. He had given her the world, his world. But was it love?

She replayed the saga over and over in her head. He had taken her from everything she had ever loved. He had dominated her body despite her protest. Sure, he had explained his actions but...was it enough? She cared for him but...love? That was a very strong word.

"You've got to be honest with yourself, Daphne. And with him."

Moments later, Daphne hesitated in her bedroom doorway. She leaned against the worn wood frame watching the rise and fall of her lover's chest. He was sprawled across her bed, still managing to look immensely regal. Bright moonlight streamed through the curtains and cast an otherworldly glow about Hades' face. There was no mistaking his godliness as he dosed there. Daphne wanted nothing more than to lay across his cool chest and breath in the scent of the Underworld. She shook her head. She needed to do this. Surely, the Bond was flexible—breakable, even.

"Ha-Hades," she whispered, unsure of how to wake him.

Hades opened his eyes with a drowsy smile. "My love," he crooned, voice husky from sleep, "Have you come to lie with me?" He smirked at the double entendre. However, his countenance quickly changed as he perceived Daphne's cold demeanor and unintelligible thoughts.

"Hades, I—uh, changed my mind. I need to go alone. When I see my family, I need to be alone," her words stumbled over themselves.

Hades sat up on the edge of the bed. "Do you want me here with you?"

She turned her head to avoid what she knew was a pleading gaze. "No," she breathed. "Hades, I need to be away from you. I don't know if my thoughts are yours, or if yours are mine. I don't know if my feelings are true or if they're because of this Bond. I don't know what's real anymore!" She dug her fingers into the roots of her hair.

Hades noted the aroma of petunia that wafted from Daphne's pores. "My love, you are still adjusting to the changes. You are no longer a mortal woman. Divinity takes time to adjust to. Being apart from me will not ease your suffering, it will likely increase it."