Of Lockets and Pomegranates: Chapter 8
Of Lockets and Pomegranates
Hypnos heaved a sigh of relief when he blinked into existence in the open-air atrium of Slumber. A massive fountain sprayed scented water behind him, the sound soothing an ache that had formed in his chest. This was the only place he felt alive. He could function here, able to keep his eyes open for longer than a moment. This was his realm. Sure, he shared it with other dream gods, but this atrium was his space. His only true home.
The expanse surrounding him was modeled after ancient Greek temples with towering marble pillars stretching into the distance infinitely on either side. Perpetual sunlight filtered in, bathing him in midafternoon light that had unseen birds chirping happily. Between every pillar stood a door that belonged to a dreaming creature. Each had a unique knob that was symbolic for its occupants.
Three stationary portals glowed behind the fountain in the center of the atrium. Without Hypnos, they were the only way in or out of Slumber. Crested with a massive lightning bolt, the entrance to Olympus buzzed with blue electricity. A detailed Earth floated above the Upperworld portal, with weather patterns swirled on its surface. The Underworld’s passage oozed with crimson seeds, topped by a split pomegranate that perpetually spilled its innards, which gave it the appearance of spilled blood when viewed from the periphery.
Two of the portals stood unused. When Hypnos begged for help when Pasithea got sick, the Fates claimed there was nothing they could do. When she died, the Golden gods swore he’d find solace that she was no longer in pain. Only the portal to the Underworld had been used.
Hypnos fell into a hell of his own making when Pasithea died, trapped inside his dreamscape and unable to find the door that led out. His physical body remained in the Underworld, and Hades heard his cries for help as the nightmares gripped him. He always seemed to know when Hypnos needed help. Without Hypnos, there was no poofing into Slumber. He found the discarded portal swirling in the closet of Hypnos’s bedroom, bird song whispering softly from the other side.
Once in the atrium, he spent hours scouring for Hypnos’s door, unable to simply summon it. He had no hesitation when he did find it; he stepped into whatever hell waited for him beyond, and the rest was history. Without Hades, Hypnos would still be trapped there, endlessly spiraling through scenes of Pasithea rotting away as demons ate her soul.
Since then, Hypnos shunned the Golden Gods and their families when he came to Slumber. His Champion was barred from entering their dreamscapes, no matter if they needed help. For every moment they failed him, he would double their torment.
The exception was Persephone’s dreamscape. Keeping tabs on her made it easier to protect Hades. When she was younger, he tried to persuade her to give Hades a chance to explain. As she grew, she warred with herself, desperate to fight her mother’s influence while also being terrified of the fallout.
At the thought of Persephone, he felt an erratic tug in his chest. Her dreamscape was calling him, begging him to come. The pillars on his right shifted, pulling her door to the atrium from the void. When it appeared, his attention caught on her doorknob. Gold vines twisted around a blood-red lily that bloomed every few seconds with a puff of pollen.
The door opened as he approached, and the smell of summer sun filled his senses. The sunlight soothed him as he entered, and the scene resolved into focus after the door closed. A meadow of lilies sprawled before him, stretching over the horizon. The sun was setting, hues of pink and orange streaking the sky. A cottage perched on the edge of the meadow, puffs of smoke rising from the chimney. Persephone sat in the center, her eyes closed as her mother braided her hair.
“My mother loves to braid my hair. She treats me like a child,” she said, feeling his presence. She looked up at him. A mortal would be unable to sense him, but she was a goddess. Demeter didn’t falter, unaware he was there as a figment of Persephone’s subconscious. “I’m not a child anymore.”
He shook his head. “You are not. Why do you let her continue?”
She bowed her head again, and Demeter tugged until she straightened. “She’s dying and I don’t know what to do. I am stuck in the Underworld for six months at a time, my powers unable to aid her. If I hadn’t eaten the pomegranate, she wouldn’t be fading away. The least I can do is let her baby me.”
He frowned at that. If Demeter were truly dying, the Olympian gods would be in an uproar. They couldn’t afford to lose anyone else, especially not a goddess who held a seat on Olympus. He said nothing.
“She mentions it every time I’m about to come back to the Underworld,” she continued. She waved her mother away, and Demeter disappeared. With a flick of her wrist, blood-red lilies bloomed in the braid, their stems entwined with the strands. “It breaks my heart.”
“What will you do?” The space between them disappeared, and he was suddenly before her. “Will you bargain for your freedom?”
She laughed dryly. “As if I haven’t tried already. The Fates refused to do anything, spouting the same nonsensical rhetoric that makes them seem all-knowing. ‘You must wait for the perfect time to barter a deal, young Persephone,’ they say to dumb it down.”
He hadn’t thought her brave enough to confront the Fates. Most didn’t because they were easily angered. A life could always get worse. He would applaud her if it didn’t leave so many burning questions, especially ones that involved Pandora.
“Why were you so kind to me today?” she asked suddenly, her molten eyes watching him. “You’re Hades’ little lap dog, and he tossed me away.”
He couldn’t lie, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t withhold details. She wouldn’t be too happy to know Hades has assigned him to babysit her. “I told you: no one deserves to be alone. I saw how you looked when he dismissed you.”
She bared her teeth at him. “I don’t need sympathy.”
“You’ll get none from me, Seph. You deserve the misery you’ve caused yourself.” He held up a hand before she could snap at him, halting her protest. “I won’t sugarcoat things for you, and you’d better get used to it. Nyx speaks to you because she’s motherly. No one else will try to get to know you. Don’t kick the gift horse in the mouth, or whatever that saying is.”
She pursed her lips, angry but unable to find a decent snapback. The scene around them changed to her chambers. The TV played the episode of Romance Casino they’d been watching, though the couple was different. It was Hades and Persephone.
Hades had his hand in her loose hair, pulling her head back roughly to expose the column of her neck. Her eyes glimmered with excitement, and Hypnos could see the rush of her pulse. From behind her, another arm snaked around her waist off-screen, tugging her against an unseen body. An image of Hypnos dipped his head to her neck, kissing a line up while Hades traced a line down the other side.
He was surprised to see himself. That morning, Persephone hated him. It was amazing what a little kindness could do to sway someone’s affections. She didn’t notice what was on the screen, blissfully unaware that her deepest secrets were streaming behind her.
She wanted Hades, and it infuriated her. It was the secret she held so tightly. In her mind, everything about him should sicken her. He kidnapped and cursed her. He was death while she was life. Yet she couldn’t handle how her heart leapt at the sight of him. Every time Hypnos appeared in her dreamscape, her mind screamed the truth. The only thing stopping her was her mother.
She tried to find love in the Upperworld, bedding human men who looked like off-brand versions of him. They appeared in her dreams as faceless suitors. None ever made her pulse race as maddeningly as Hades did. Until now. No other male had touched her in this space until he watched his own arm wrap around her.
“Hypnos?” He turned to look at her and realized her genuine beauty. She watched him, eyes widening as he stepped closer. “Can you make me feel less lonely? Just for tonight?”
Before he could answer, she was in his arms. She wasn’t much shorter than his six feet, so her head rested on his shoulder. His arms came around her, gingerly at first, before turning possessive. Warning bells blared in his mind, drowned out by his own despondency.
Would it be so bad to wallow in their loneliness together?
He couldn’t think straight with her breath on his neck and her hands fisted in the back of his shirt like he was her only lifeline. Maybe Hades knew what he was doing when he asked Hypnos for this favor. He wouldn’t oppose one night… Right?
“Say yes,” she whispered, her lips grazing the tender flesh of his neck.
He was lost to the sensation. Somewhere, in the rational part of his mind, he was begging Hades’ forgiveness. It was already too late to stop what she had started. She tilted her head, and their lips brushed. The feeling was something he hadn’t known for such a long time.
Her fists in his shirt tightened as she lifted onto her tiptoes to deepen the kiss. His hands threaded into her hair like TV Hades had, and he pressed her to him until there was no space between them.
A whirlwind of colors and sounds stormed around them as her Slumber faltered, giving him pause. The rush of emotions would wake her if they continued, and she was going to know it hadn’t been Dream Hypnos that kissed her so passionately.
He broke away, stumbling until he hit the invisible wall of her Slumber. “We can’t do this, Persephone.”
“Why?” she demanded, stalking towards him. Her braid had come loose; wild tendrils of hair framed her face. “I have no intention of falling in love with you, Hypnos. Whatever happens between us is purely physical. What could it hurt?”
He felt as though she’d slapped him. It wasn’t a lie. She had no intention of falling for him. She wanted to use him to release pent-up tension she’d harbored for centuries. It was tempting, having something with no emotional strings attached. Unfortunately, he couldn’t consent to it here.
“Ask me in the waking realm, Seph. I won’t do it in Slumber.” He braced his hand against her sternum when she moved closer. “You want this now, but your waking mind might not. Give me your consent in both, or this ends before it begins.”
Frustration darkened her eyes, but she stopped trying to approach. She looked away, blush darkening her copper skin as embarrassment made her Slumber rumble again. Her eyes landed on the TV screen, which had paused with her in the embrace of Hades and Hypnos.
“I don’t know if I’m brave enough to admit this outside of this room,” she whispered, focused on the screen. Primal hunger lit up her eyes when she looked at him again, and an ache twisted in his stomach. If he didn’t leave, he wouldn’t be able to deny her.
Unable to find his own bravery, he disappeared.
