Author/Banshee Queen: "A couple of days ago after once again reading Persephone's story, I came upon some startling thoughts. What would it be like if Persephone detested her relationship with Hades because it/he was entirely different? That's how I came about with writing this Oneshot.

Bear in mind this is NOT your normal happy Persephone fic, so for those of you out there who think otherwise, heed this warning.

WARNING: This fanfic contains slight rape.

Also, on a note to my good friend Histswot, (a talented writer on this site), I fulfilled my end of the bargain so get-a writin'! Monday's your deadline honey!" (Grins knowingly)

Disclaimer: "I don't own the characters Hades or Persephone etc."

Vivid Tears Amidst The Underworld

Alone in her dimly lit chamber, Persephone- once revered as one of the most beautiful goddesses of the waking world- sat hunched on an elaborately gold-rimmed and high backed chair.

Stray curls of auburn now hung loose and dishevelled around her face, perceiving her appearance odd from her usual dexterously done-up chignon, ornately garlanded garb; crumpled and slightly torn at the hem, exposing immensely her full bosom.

Phwip!

The last of the stand lamp's candles situated about her bedchamber went out with a quick hiss, and the faint light which illuminated the dark room, plunged her into murky darkness. Frayed satin drapes flying upon a light breeze, abruptly allowed a bitter wind to offend her naturally smooth skin; goosebumps rippled under her skin and surfaced, neither causing her to bat an eyelash nor fetch not one of the fur-lined cloaks Hades bestowed upon her.

Let the cold strip away this veil of beauty, the voice in her head hissed…this vile veil of lust…

A disquieting tear sped down her cheek, and Persephone did nothing to wipe its existence away.

Let it stay there and perish for all eternity…like me.

Hades had been away for nearly three days now, her father requesting his presence at Olympus without delay. What reasons her father had for her husband's request the young goddess knew not, nor cared to know, and the only thing she had remembered of her husband's departure was his feebly murmured declaration of his constant love for her and a brief kiss of the lips.

His presence, along with the goons he called 'guards', were situated elsewhere than standing vigil over the doors to her chambers, and she was grateful for the absence of both.

Suddenly the sound of four distinctive neighs from four simultaneously dark shaded horses, drew forth a tear from her eye. Eyes blazing like gold fire, froth effervescent from their mouths, they hoofed the air vainly, renting the earth with their hooves as they encouraged a broad passageway leading down into the depths of the Underworld.

Her bouquet of crocuses, blue irises and hyacinths had fallen astray as he- with a raging fire in his eyes which she had never seen before, nor ever since- had reached down from his chariot and swiftly snaked an arm around her waist, raising her clear off the ground with the rampant strength in his veins and confining her- though kicking, screaming hollowly, and flailing her arms vainly- next to him.

His grip around her waist had been firm and merciless, and only until the chariot halted did he ease his hold on her and show at last some civility.

Another tear pooled in Persephone's eye, blurring her vision before she let it- and others- run ramped all over her cheeks.

Her mother had been a whole different subject- terrified of her whereabouts, and her safety, she had searched the ends of the earth in vain. Overjoyed- and beyond sheer comprehension- she had greeted her daughter again beyond the unrelenting darkness with open arms, clutching her tightly to her breast instinctively, smiling for all the world as if she had been granted the power to direct the sun, moon and stars on her own accord.

She had seen the sorrow in her mother's eyes burgeon tenfold when her father decreed that only by her being as pure as the day she had left her mother, should she return to her arms. Demeter's knees had buckled beneath her as she buried her face within her hands, openly crying aloud and cursing the day she had ever laid eyes upon Zeus. Hades had stood motionless behind his wife, watching the scene unfold without a single emotion emitting itself onto his dark features, before he gently led Persephone away by the hand and down into the dark realm they would now rule together for perpetuity.

Oh it had all been a virtuoso plan in the beginning, her father and husband collaborating together shrewdly, and she had fallen for it flawlessly, eyes lighting up at the prospect of ruling a throne and 'kingdom' alongside an awe-inspiring and potent God, both striking and chivalrous in every aspect.

A deafening and raucous scream exploded from her throat and in a surge of fury she sprang from her seat and flung the chair halfway across the room. It bounced and clattered across the cold marble floor before landing on its side and skidding to a stop.

Myriad tears followed her outburst, tailed by glitch-like sobs.

"WHY FATHER?" She shrieked, her cries of pain rebounding from the walls of her chamber. "WHY? When I had a life filled with joy and free from concerns or duty!"

Persephone sank to her knees, scratching to no avail at the marbled floor as she attempted to grab a rein over her emotions.

She couldn't bear to tell her mother that things had turned bitter between her and Hades. That he denounced her authority recurrently, that he forced himself upon her almost habitually, and that he used his strength and the enchanting power within his voice to…better uses, or to sway her in all matters.

It would break her mother's heart in two if ever she came to learn this knowledge, and it was for this reason alone she swallowed whole the anguish and forced a resplendent smile upon her face…like the ones which used to come naturally whenever she saw her mother.

Gathering herself up, the goddess shambled over to the chair, and restoring it to its former location, eased herself down upon its cushioned surface again.

A biting wind hissed through the open casements of their chamber, and circling around Persephone, whipped the stray hair framing her face.

He's back!

The voice in her head howled, slipping deeper and deeper into the recesses of her mind with a string of wild and lamenting moans.

The goddess didn't bother to wipe the tears of salt from her face, but sat immobile and bent in her chair, endeavouring to portray that of a neutral expression. Though she knew it was in vain, he would not wish to be…welcomed…home by a forlorn wife.

EEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRCCCCCCCCCCHHHHHHHHHH!

The heavy marble-carved doors to their chamber slowly creaked open, the loud plod of her husband's boots echoing across the floor. The sound of material being folded across the back of a chair resonated ten paces her right, and Persephone stiffened rigidly until her back mimicked that of an arrow.

"All alone my sweet?"

Persephone stiffened again at the contact of his cool hand on her shoulder. His voice oozed such eloquence and tenderness. The voice in her mind hissed sharply following the previous thought.

If only the world knew…

The goddess nodded dumbly- he would not be pleased at his presence not being acknowledged- and forced her voice to return.

"How find you your journey?" She softly questioned, head still bent to the ground, freshly cried tears staining her cheeks, hair disarrayed in her grief and fury.

"Well enough", he replied, moving his hand to her neck and caressing the soft skin there.

His voice sounded so monotonous, so alluring and so harsh, all in one. It was as if his voice were a smooth flowing river, easily evading the rock-formations lodged there by centuries of ageing.

"And my father?"

She forced her voice to keep steady, if she swayed now she would cave and he would triumph…

…but then again he did now didn't he?

"Well enough, as always…", the pause in his voice caused the young goddess to tremble inwardly, as if his eyes were pinned to the back of her head, "he sends his love, and tells you your mother inquired after you when she called on him a week ago."

Persephone nodded mutely, absorbing his words and filing them away for a later time when she would have time to ponder over the conversation between her parents. She knew they were not on- as they had once been- civil and neutral terms, each relaying to her that the other had treated them unjustly.

The thought vanished however, as soon as Hades cool hands brushed away a fistful of her long tresses, revealing her tear-stained cheeks. The god tatted expressively, as if aware that her tears would be there to greet him. Persephone said nothing, not even to be seemingly breathing, but sat rigidly in her chair, fearing but knowing what was to come next.

Hades bent his head to hers, and tilting her neck to the left, began a slow and agonizing trail of kisses. Persephone damned herself as a soul condemned to the Underworld she partly ruled, as a lone tear escaped her left eye and joined the others. She jolted just a fraction with fear, but it was enough to startle Hades from his onslaught of affection; he knew his wife too well.

"Come to bed", Hades murmured, his hand still firmly gripping her shoulder.

Persephone fought the will to let her tears cascade down her cheeks until she had nothing else left to give and inhaled deeply, her bottom lip trembling as she meekly replied her husband's request.

"I'm tired…let me sit here and rest a moment husband."

The goddess exhaled deeply, as if that one sentence alone completely drained her.

A mere twist of his lips showed any anger the god was reigning back, and tracing his finger along her shoulder and across her jaw-line, Hades cupped her chin and forced her head backwards sharply, her terror laced eyes meeting his shining livid. The darkness in those orbs seemed to expand swiftly, and Persephone knew she had no choice in the matter, for ferocity streaked in those eyes every last soul of the world had witnessed before their descent into the deepest darkest pits of the Underworld.

Hades titled her head back to its original position and gripped her shoulder decisively, saying again in the same tone of voice, "Come to bed…wife."

Persephone nodded lamely, allowing her husband to draw her from her chair and guide her towards their bed unhurriedly. Once there, Hades pulled her into his arms and smoothed back the hair from her face, he wiped the tears from her face almost casually and locked his lips with hers in a zealous kiss. The goddess passed over all control of her limbs to him, caring not what he wanted to do with her tonight, and allowing him to pin her body beneath his.

All articles of his clothing disappeared, hers soon to follow as one hand meandered up the flowing skirts of her toga and grasped her thigh tenaciously, the other fondling her left breast. Persephone lay there in a swoon of mixed emotions, showing not an inch of expression when his light kisses traced her collarbone, nor when his adept hand molested her blossom sinisterly.

She wanted to scream and inflict the worst torture known possible to man on him. She wanted to spit on his lowly form. But she wanted to kiss, embrace and serve by his side as the acquiescent wife that she was always someday destined to be.

She was that wife now. And she could not escape it. She was the compliant wife, compliant with the knowledge that she was forced to yield beyond her will, and not as she would have chosen on her own accord.

The glare from Persephone's eyes into his shouted moreover angst than anger, but Hades was untouched, and he returned the gesture with a brutal thrust, which elicited an aching moan from the goddess.

She envied him, the fact that he was a man, and the fact that she knew she deserved a worthier husband. She was a girl when she met him, and it was easy to fall in love with him because of that reason alone.

But most of all Persephone envied him the will to control her mind and her will to leave him. She abhorred and worshiped him with all she had to give, and these two emotions wound together strictly portrayed that of an enormous python, coiling itself around her, tautening incessantly until one day it would become the end of her.

But Persephone knew she could never leave Hades, and mourned her fate long ago.