HADES AND PERSEPHONE Chain of Gold AU - James Herondale and Cordelia Carstairs
James Herondale never wanted to be the God of the dead. Technically, he was god of the Underworld, with his right hand man Thanatos god of the dead, but no one cared about semantics.
What with James’ apparent ghastly appearance and pale skin, no one made the mistake of assuming him a living creature. No one person on the sunny side of the world had ambrosial eyes like James. No satyr, Demi-god, or even nymph had irises the color of his. More than living creatures feared his name, they feared his eyes more.
Some people, however, did not mind James’ eyes. His friend Matthew, god of sunlight and poetry, compared them to the first rays of daylight that sparks off the edge of his sun chariot. James has blushed. He did not get compliments often, especially by beings with sun-kissed skin.
He does not understand why the Olympians fear him similar to that of a mortal. After all, gods are immortal. Why should they fear appearing death?
It does not due well for James to focus on this. It’s been four thousand years, he should be over it by now.
James sits upon his throne of obsidian, pondering many things he should not think about lest he fall into a hole of despair. If that abyss could even be darker than hell itself.
Many of James’ subjects wander around, dusting off his ceiling long paintings of various things found above ground. Some of them believe James is mocking them by hanging up such photos of the world they are no longer part of, but that’s not why James do it.
James loves paintings of the sea, of sunflowers and dandelions and trees with weeping leaves. It’d been nearly a thousand years since James had been on the sunny side of things. He dared never take a step, as his yearning would cause such a fulfillment that he would no longer return to his domain.
“You should just do it.” Thanatos said, startling James.
Thanatos - or rather Jesse as he liked to be called - arched a Stygian brow. His green eyes were similar to the emeralds that adorned James’ fanciful palace ceiling.
“You spoke out loud,” Jesse supplied.
“Oh,” James said. “Well why do you think I should go above ground?”
Jesse shrugged. “You have nothing to loose. Besides, you are getting pale, my lord.”
James rolled his eyes. “Fine, but if I get sunburned I shall have Matthew run over you with his Chariot.”
James stood, his royal robes falling around his long legs. The royal black velvet swished against the marble floor. Slowly, he reached inside and took out the books he kept in the inside pockets, setting them along the arms of his throne.
Jesse arched another brow, but said nothing else. Even he knew James lived vicariously through book characters. Book characters that could live in sunlight, who could ride magnificent beasts and marry their loves without the fear of being feared. Sometimes, James wished he could carve out the godly part of himself and become more... normal. Living.
It did not take long for James to walk up to the land of the living. He past his three-headed dog Cerebus and the Elysian Fields where the heroes James read about remained.
Sunlight was a funny thing to the god of the underworld.
Wind with a hint of cherries and apples blew past James, making him scrunch up his nose. He was used to pomegranates, really.
James appeared to have landed, or rather found himself, in a meadow filled with narcissus and chrysanthemums. Their vivid colors burst against the solid green Earth. No jewel could entertain their color.
James looked up, watching as sunlight shone through the leaves, dimpling on his skin giving him spots.
James took a deep breath. Why was he here again? It was not like he had someone to meet? Maybe Matthew-
James’ thoughts stopped short when he heard a voice. A feminine voice as soft as the summer wind.
James slowly turned towards it, treading lightly on the branches that littered the ground.
On a patch of grass in the middle of the meadow was a girl. A girl wearing a summer sky blue dress adorned with pink flowers at the neckline and hemline. Her skin was dark against the pastel dress, sun kissed mixed with cinnamon. Her hair was a vibrant red, dark as a ruby. She laid on the ground with a narcissus in her hand. At her side was a gleaming gold sword, one of which she traced absent mindedly with her free fingers.
“Marriage?” She said to the flower. “Marriage to a nymph I need not know?” Disgust warmed her words.
“Who does my mother think she is?” The girl asked. “Sona, goddess of flowers and fruit and all that, I get it. But this? Marriage? I do not believe it is in her power to ask me that, not even as my mother.”
“I will not marry.” She said and raised her sword. The gleaming weapon cast sunlight spots along the ground and her skin. “Lest I shall part with you.”
“I am the goddess of spring time. I do as I please.” She said again, as though she were trying to convince herself. “Not even Alastair backed me up!” She told the sword. “He just nodded and scolded me for opposing mother. They are too alike, my mother and brother.”
She sighed and lower her sword to her chest, letting the blade rest upon her sternum. “I shall only marry who I love, but what can I do when who I love does not love me?”
The girl started and sat up, whirling to look at James. Her eyes widened and her pink mouth dropped.
He hasn’t meant to say that. But as someone with first hand experience to heart break, he could not stop his resurfacing feelings. Although he no longer loved Grace, the woman who never loved him anyway, the feelings still burned like salt that would never leave a wound.
James blinked. “You recognize me?” Although he did not look on part with a living creature, she shouldn’t have been able to tell so soon and so far away.
“Of course I do,” She said and then frowned. “Do you not know me?”
James opened his mouth but nothing came out. He thought over the hundreds of thousands of faces he’d seen during his existence, but he can’t remember hers. He would remember hers.
The girl crossed her arms and looked away from James, obviously upset. “Cordelia.” She snapped, her ruby red hair blowing in the breeze.
“Right,” James said realizing. “Yona’s daughter. You specialize in...flowers.”
Cordelia looked offended. “Flowers keep this world alive, you know that? Obviously you don’t, God-of-Death.” She bit her lip but did not apologize.
James was astounded. Many did not say sentences to him. Much less an insult.
“Have we met before?” James asked, wondering what he did to receive such vehemence.
Cordelia squeaked. “Yes! Numerous times in Mount Olympus!”
James needed to change the topic. “Who are you to marry?” James asked, daring to step closer.
Cordelia blushed, her cheeks as red as her hair. James wanted to touch her hair, see if it was as warm as the day itself.
“Someone I do not even know.”
“What about the on you’re in love with?” James asked. “Why not him or her?”
Cordelia watched him for a long moment with an unreadable expression. James thought perhaps she is searching his secret worthiness.
“Doesn’t matter.” Cordelia said at last. “Why, I bet they don’t even know my name.”
James nodded, trying to feel sympathetic. “I’m sorry.” He said. “I’m sure they would like you if they knew you.”
Cordelia scowled at him. Surprising, her scowl was as pretty as her smile.
She sighed. “It matters not. My mother will force me to marry since I cannot obtain a lover myself.”
“You could marry me.” James said before he even realized her could say such words. But he had been too busy looking at the flowers that adorned her dress, at the golden sword laid beside her like a hero fallen on the Earth.
Cordelia’s eyes were wide. “Truly?” She asked in disbelief. “Why would you...”
“I do not know.” James said. “But you have spoken to me longer than anyone has in over a century, and you are the most beautiful living thing I have ever seen.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t even remember my name.”
James sucked in a breath. “To be fair, Yona never allows me anywhere near her so out of that avoidance I must have mistakenly avoided you.”
Cordelia seemed to deem this answer good enough and stood. She was almost as tall as James, but much more graceful. She strode up to him and looked him in the eyes without flinching. Suddenly, she spun around him and laced her arm through his.
“I accept your proposal.” She said, trying to feigh non-chalance. “Take me to your palace.”
James heart sped up on the verge of hope. “Will you be alright in the underworld? With no sunlight?”
Cordelia thought for a moment before shrugging. “We can work something out.” She smiled. “Do you have food down there? I am famished.”
James, understanding the vow Cordelia had made, smiled. “I believe there to be the most delicious pomegranates.”
2087
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