Was it really abduction? And what happened to the rest of that pomegranate? My version of Hades and Persephone. Rated M for a reason.

I'm sure we all imagine Hades as we like, but in case anyone was wondering, I essentially based him off of Richard Armitage. But please, imagine him as you like. :)

Night was falling. Persephone had been waiting anxiously all day. She spent most of her time lost in daydreams, which was not strange to her mother, Demeter, who thought her daughter still a child. If only the goddess had any idea of what her daughter was really thinking about, she would have locked her away for the rest of eternity. But she could not know, nor did any other creature in existence know, though they soon would.

For months now, Persephone's beloved had been courting her, unknown to all, and mostly in her dreams. It was safest in dreams, for no one could spy upon them there, but it was only so fulfilling. After a while it was actually maddening, and eventually her suitor began to "visit" her in during waking hours.

Those visits where brief, for fear of being caught by the ever present and overbearing Demeter. So afraid was she that some god's or man's eyes might linger too long on her daughter that she was never far removed. It was safest for Persephone to wait for her mother to fall asleep and slip out into the night to rendezvous with her love. They played like children in the moonlight; he chasing her and she teasing him. The two of them rolling around in the flowers she had grown but a few hours earlier, tasting each other and learning the curves and contours of each other's bodies. They had never coupled; he would not take her until the time came to make her his. Until he was sure that she wanted to be his for all of the rest of the ages. He had known that she was his mate the moment he laid eyes on her in her father's palace on Olympus. He did not venture there often, tried to avoid it really, but found himself there on the fateful day that Demeter brought her daughter to see Olympus now that she had come of age.

Demeter of course did not see Persephone as being of age, she still treated and dressed her like a child. Short white chitons and flowers woven into her long, dark cascading waves were Persephone's daily adornments and what she was wearing that day she walked into her father's throne room.

He had locked eyes with her and she with him. He had half expected her to turn her nose up in disgust at him, as goddesses often did, or turn from him in fear of his dread title and reputation. But instead, she had been unable to tear her eyes from his. They were unlike any Persephone had ever seen, light blue like the shades he ruled over. He didn't look like any of his brethren; no golden locks or tanned Grecian skin. Instead, long black curls framed a pale face with a strong jaw covered in a short black beard.

Persephone had been staring so intently that she had not heard her father introduce her to him the first time.

"Persephone?" Zeus called her name a little louder and firmer this time, bringing her back to the present.

"This is your uncle, Lord Hades, ruler of the Underworld." Zeus said and she bowed her head slightly.

Looking back up at him, she heard him speak her name, but it took her a moment to realize that he had spoken to her inside of her mind. His lips had never moved, but his eyes remained fixed on hers. The rich, baritone voice that had spoken to her mind sent shivers down her spine, and she responded to him by saying "My lord," quietly and while Hades took it as a reply that she had heard him, no one else thought anything of her reverent greeting. For a second longer they regarded each other and then Zeus began to introduce Persephone to the other gods present and she had to turn her attention away from him.

Hades however did not turn his attention from her for as long as she remained in his presence. He had immediately thought her beautiful when she strode into the throne room behind her mother, but as all beautiful goddesses –or goddesses in general—found him and his realm to be equally undesirable, he was not moved to pursue her. Not until her eyes had found his on their own and held them of their own volition did his heart speed up and butterflies fill his stomach. He could not tear his eyes from hers, he was lost in those soft brown orbs that seemed to be beckoning him towards his destiny. Her voice when she spoke was like a siren song, and he felt himself being pulled towards her by some force far greater than his will, though that force matched his will for certain.

He had spoken her name to her mind out of impulse, he was not sure why he had so hastily made the decision. It easily could have frightened her or angered her even, the small but terrifying display of his power. But he wanted to greet her personally and intimately, wanted to communicate in the brief moment that he had with her what he had so instantly and overwhelmingly felt at the sight of her, and could think of no better or safer way. She had not been afraid, but rather acknowledged his overture, though unbeknownst to all others present, and spoke back to him volumes with her eyes.

Her lack of fear and obvious intrigue with him was enough to give Hades hope, and he vowed to see the goddess again, though far from Olympus next time.

And so their regular encounters began. First he came to her in dreams. Then, when that was not enough for them any longer, they met under the stars when all others who would seek to keep them apart would be none the wiser. The young goddess of springtime and flowers had made the lord of the dead feel like child again. Lighthearted and free spirited were not feelings that Hades had ever really felt though. But when he was with her, he knew only happiness and freedom. Her touch melted away centuries of pain and loneliness. Her acceptance and reverence of him made him feel whole and at peace for the first time in his long, immortal existence. But when they had to part, it was almost worse than before he had known her at all. Their separation was like missing an extremity, and he did not know how much longer he could bear the way things were. He wanted her to be his, in his realm, in his bed every night and by his side every day. He could no longer face eternity with any other option. He had to have her, but he had to give her time. She was young and innocent. She had grown up happily in open fields, loved by her mother and protected from real life, pain, and sorrow. Could she leave behind the warm sun and her flowers? All her creations? Her mother's love and constant care? To love and care for him for the rest of her long life?

He had to let her come to the decision herself. But waiting for her was killing him. The only thing worse than not having her he believed was having her and not being able to keep her happy. For her to miss her mother and home so much that she would leave him. That she might fall out of love with him. He believed she loved him, but it was easier to love him at night and live happily and freely with her mother and her flowers during the day. Hades often thought that her loving him was too good to be true, and was some passing fancy that would whither with time, leaving him lonelier than ever he had been before.

As he lay in his great bed, restless with these thoughts of his beloved and trying to sleep, his eyes snapped open at the sudden and distant sound of her voice.