pretty sure i know what hades & persephone IS unless you've changed tracks and done something completely different but I WANT A SNIPPET
So I started a sequel to this fic with more of Hecate!Hades and Persephone!Pippa shenanigans.
She leaves Pippa to her own devices for a few hours. There’s nothing she can do, nowhere she can go, and Hecate isn’t keen on listening to her beg and plead her freedom.
She’s heard the same cries from countless dead, from those foolish enough to venture into the Underworld to take something or someone that no longer belongs to them.
Heroes desperate to save a loved one, others convinced they can escape judgement. She’s never quite understood those who believe the rules apply to everyone but them; why she should take pity on anyone simply because they’re brave enough or foolish enough to ask.
She thinks of Pippa, in her pink summer dress, wide, wet eyes imploring her—
What’s done is done. Pippa will remain, and will simply have to get used to the idea—though Hecate imagines it might take some time.
It wasn’t her first choice either, if she’s honest with herself. Never thought she’d delegate herself to the land of the dead, to darkness and shadow. But the lots were drawn fairly, and after the war—
She pushes the thought aside.
She’s comfortable now, almost proud of the world she’s come to rule. It’s efficient, and clear—orderly, as much as death can be. She’s been here so long now, she wonders if she’d leave even if given the chance. If the sky or the earth or the sea wouldn’t be too much for her, now—too much chaos and disruption.
Settling into the chair behind her desk, she purses her lips at the stacks of papers that have accumulated in her brief absence dealing with Pippa.
It’s easy to lose herself in her work—to execute the judgements passed on to her from the judges, to catalogue and sort and file the names of the dead.
It steadies her, enough that a few, blissful hours go by where she doesn’t think of Pippa at all.
When she’s finished, she glances at her watch - three hours have gone by without a sound from her new guest, and she supposes she should probably make arrangements for her inevitable stay.
