Hades |Lesbian Version|

Chapter 10: The Pomegranate

As time passed, the goddess of spring still longed for the view of the lush green earth and the blue of the sky, but she had also grown accustomed to the world beneath and no longer found Hades' palace oppressing nor the barren fields dreary.

There were so many things to amuse her here. Persephone liked to wander around the Elysian Fields and dance with the happy souls. She was still fascinated by the lives of the deceased; how Sisyphus rolled his stone uphill endlessly; and the ever-hungry Tantalus in his own torment.

Yet, she enjoyed the garden that Hades gave her the most. Her flowers grew so beautiful even in the shadowy gloom. The black grapes were all plump and ripe with their rich juices. Persephone would crush them into black deadly wine out of boredom. No mortals should ever drink it for it would poison them - except the gods.

Since her fate was sealed between her two parents, Persephone shall not return to the life she had known unless the young goddess remained as pure as the day she had left her mother's home. Part of her missed her mother terribly, but another part had grown unhealthily fond of the goddess Hades. Day by day, she had become aware of her passionate feelings towards the grim woman. This made it hard for her to tell what her heart truly wanted.

There was a rapid increase of the dead ever since Demeter stopped granting her care for the earth. One afternoon, while Hades was too busy minding her court with the three judges and dealing with the new arriving souls, Persephone wandered off like a child to her garden.

The goddess wade through the orchard trees with low branches. Half-hidden in the clump of nightshade, she found a healthy fruit tree. As the fate permitted, she was mesmerized by the sight of the cluster of lustrous red fruits - the pomegranates. Persephone's mouth watered and her stomach growled. Her hands were clenched to her sides.

'You're alone', a voice inside her head whispered. 'No one will see you. No one will know.'

The goddess looked around herself. It was true. Even her helper was nowhere to be found. No one could see her. She felt her hands moving by themselves as if she had nothing to do with them. She watched as her fingers curled savagely as they ripped a fruit off the tree. She watched her nails dig into the heavy red pomegranate and peel off the yellow rind to find the seeds sparkling like red gems. Saliva flooded her mouth and she could resist no longer. At last, Persephone broke her fast and nibbled six.

She thought she had never tasted anything so tasty as these tiny, sweet, tart, and juicy seeds. Just as she swallowed her sixth seed, a great chill shot through her spine. Persephone gasped as she had just snapped out of a trance. She dropped the pomegranate to the ground, but it was too late. Her mouth was stained with red juice. She wiped her lips roughly and began to panic. Then from the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of her gardener, Ascaluphus, watching her from under the trellis. He was the only one who bore witness to her slip up. The goddess quickly turned on her heels and raced out of the garden.

Persephone was terrified of what she had done. The young maiden ran heedlessly until she reached the black bank of one of the great rivers. She dropped to her knees and sobbed. The scent of the pomegranate and its sweet taste still lingered in her mouth, reminding her of her mistake.

She looked at her own reflection on the black water. Her golden hair was disheveled from running. She realized just then that she had arrived at Cocytus - the river of lamentation, abhorred Styx, and the flood of deadly hate that sent a shudder through all hearers.

Suddenly, a gush of water shot up and enveloped Persephone. A pair of pale arms wrapped around her neck and tried to pull her in with a strong tug. The goddess was devoured by fear. She realized with horror what was possessing her.

It was Minthe, the Underworld Nymph of Cocytus, who had malicious intentions ever since their first encounter. The nymph dragged the startled Persephone off the shore. Minthe pushed the goddess' head under the water, trying to drown her in the murky liquid.

"You stole Hades from me!" Minthe hissed. "You shall be trapped here in the river of wailing forever!"

Persephone thrashed, screamed, and choked. She tried to pry Minthe's scorching hands off her skin and pull herself away. The goddess prayed to her mother, but at the same time, she needed Hades the most.

The all-powerful four rivers that joined with the River Styx can trap the souls there for eternity; however, Persephone had the golden blood of the Olympians. She would not let this naiad drown her with her madness and hatred. The goddess' quick reversal released her from her crippling fear and allowed her to lash back at Minthe with all her immortal strength.

Using both of her hands, she grabbed hold of the nymph and dragged her back inland. Minthe was surprised at the sudden vigor of the dainty goddess. The naiad lost her power as soon as her body was out of the water.

But just as quickly, Minthe recovered and jumped atop Persephone with her hands clutching around the goddess' neck. The two of them continued to struggle with one another.

Persephone's eyes went bleary and her mouth was gasping for air. Then something miraculous happened. Minthe screamed and fell back. Her pale skin began to peel away from her bones patch by patch and slowly burn to ashes. Soon her red hair caught on fire along with the rest of her body. The nymph was shocked beyond words. She screamed and screamed until her core was turned to dust, and Minthe was no more.

Persephone finally was freed and could breathe properly again. She staggered back onto her wobbly feet. Her eyes burned with tears as she looked at the pile of ashes on the ground.

The goddess was relieved that Minthe was no longer a danger to her, but she was also saddened by the outcome of the event. A great sympathy took hold of her heart for the nymph was destroyed by her own jealousy.

"Poor Minthe," Persephone whispered as she waved her hand. Up from the pile of the nymph's ashes sprang forth a weak mint herb that bore her name.