Be to her, Persephone, All the things I might not be: Take her head upon your knee. She that was so proud and wild, Flippant, arrogant and free, She that had no need of me, Is a little lonely child Lost in Hell,—Persephone, Take her head upon your knee: Say to her, "My dear, my dear, It is not so dreadful here."
[ There are far more jewels beyond the comprehension of gods and mortals both that lie glittering within the stark shadows of Hades; sapphires, rubies, diamonds, precious gems of untold worth, shining like cold fire within the kingdom's confines that would put all the riches of the world to shame.
But the cruelty of it all is this: the kingdom of Hades belongs to the dead.
In her care were the souls of the men, women, and children who had left the world, who came with their grief, their woes, the unfulfilled dreams and the fear stink of fear and despair that permeates the entirety of her domain.
Mako, queen of the underworld and one of the Three who had gone against their father and won, fights the bitterness of her lot -- that she would have unimaginable wealth and yet be unable to hear the simple trill of birdsong, or witness the blossoming of flowers.
From the earth it all comes, and to the earth it all goes; and while every creature under the sky reaps its abundance, Mako tastes only ash and dust. It's difficult not to burn with loneliness, ruling over the dead with no one to be her consort, the pervasive gloom and darkness weighing heavily on her shoulders. She does her job well enough, but she's come to yearn for someone worthy, for a light in the ever-present darkness.
Perhaps it is why she ended up seducing the young, beautiful, bright-eyed god of spring. Raleigh, who is everything she isn't, who is spring and summer, the seed of the fruit of the fields. Raleigh is a masterpiece, a shimmering, brilliant light of life that shines so vividly in the obsidian of her luxurious chambers, with budding blossoms threaded into hair like spun-gold. He is light, and air, and colour -- and Mako loved him the moment she set eyes on him; and when the queen loved, she wanted; when she queen wanted, she took, and for the first time in the long while, when she made love to him on silver silk and black satin, Mako felt alive.
He was hers, her god of spring and abundance and hope, and Mako didn't care that she took him from the world -- no, all that mattered was the way he kissed her, the way he looked at her when she eased him back into her bed and unraveled him under her hands and her lips, when she drew one orgasm after another from him as his seed spilled on her sheets, on her, inside her. Mako gave him unimaginable pleasure and practically made him sing with it, had shown him the extent of her kingdom, but soon... soon, Raleigh wants to go home.
Soon, he is going to leave her. Mako knows the signs, and while the wrathful side of her demands that he stays, she knows she must find another way to keep him. She comes to him one night, pale in black silk with a coronet of diamonds in her hair, and a fresh, ripe pomegranate in her hand. ]
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no subject
Be to her, Persephone,
All the things I might not be:
Take her head upon your knee.
She that was so proud and wild,
Flippant, arrogant and free,
She that had no need of me,
Is a little lonely child
Lost in Hell,—Persephone,
Take her head upon your knee:
Say to her, "My dear, my dear,
It is not so dreadful here."
no subject
But the cruelty of it all is this: the kingdom of Hades belongs to the dead.
In her care were the souls of the men, women, and children who had left the world, who came with their grief, their woes, the unfulfilled dreams and the fear stink of fear and despair that permeates the entirety of her domain.
Mako, queen of the underworld and one of the Three who had gone against their father and won, fights the bitterness of her lot -- that she would have unimaginable wealth and yet be unable to hear the simple trill of birdsong, or witness the blossoming of flowers.
From the earth it all comes, and to the earth it all goes; and while every creature under the sky reaps its abundance, Mako tastes only ash and dust. It's difficult not to burn with loneliness, ruling over the dead with no one to be her consort, the pervasive gloom and darkness weighing heavily on her shoulders. She does her job well enough, but she's come to yearn for someone worthy, for a light in the ever-present darkness.
Perhaps it is why she ended up seducing the young, beautiful, bright-eyed god of spring. Raleigh, who is everything she isn't, who is spring and summer, the seed of the fruit of the fields. Raleigh is a masterpiece, a shimmering, brilliant light of life that shines so vividly in the obsidian of her luxurious chambers, with budding blossoms threaded into hair like spun-gold. He is light, and air, and colour -- and Mako loved him the moment she set eyes on him; and when the queen loved, she wanted; when she queen wanted, she took, and for the first time in the long while, when she made love to him on silver silk and black satin, Mako felt alive.
He was hers, her god of spring and abundance and hope, and Mako didn't care that she took him from the world -- no, all that mattered was the way he kissed her, the way he looked at her when she eased him back into her bed and unraveled him under her hands and her lips, when she drew one orgasm after another from him as his seed spilled on her sheets, on her, inside her. Mako gave him unimaginable pleasure and practically made him sing with it, had shown him the extent of her kingdom, but soon... soon, Raleigh wants to go home.
Soon, he is going to leave her. Mako knows the signs, and while the wrathful side of her demands that he stays, she knows she must find another way to keep him. She comes to him one night, pale in black silk with a coronet of diamonds in her hair, and a fresh, ripe pomegranate in her hand. ]
You are... unhappy, tonight.