Persephone II: All gone to hell

The stem slackened in her hands, all resistance instantly gone and her efforts resulted in her being suddenly and gracelessly seated on the dirt.
From the sizeable cave now in the ground and into the sepia sky came a dark figure. Dusk came quickly as he rose out of the earth, a tall lean figure cut against the last light of day.
The shadow spoke kindness in a rich voice, exhorting her to rise. Behind her a chorus of whispers and sharp murmurs moved through the huddled Aurai. Swaying but still, their hair stood straight up and listed like the light from candles in a draft. Persephone pushed herself up from her sprawl and the silhouette lengthened, offering a hand. Grasping the shade, she pulled herself toward him until she stood, suddenly looking up into the eyes of a god.
Darkness had fallen, the stage of the day now opened into the theatre of night. All diurnal players retired, the crepuscular shift done and the nocturne unfolding, stars were painted across the sky and moths fluttered on the air. The Aurai's jittering stirred the standing grains to a gentle shushing that mimicked a gentle tide.
He was beautiful, a gentleness in his tall lean body and a grace that enchanted her. Something so quiet seeming, so still. He smiled and she smiled back, and forgot the poppy in her hand. Here was true beauty in front of her.
Without the moon, darkness fell quickly as they spoke, and with it a chill. His name was Hades, an uncle of hers in some way, although that was always another term for relation of some sort, and everything was related in the beginning, after all.
She had never seen such a graceful man; he moved like a dancer, precise and careful. His lithe shape entranced her, his words drew her and she knew he was the one. This one.
His feet never left the navel space open in the earth, but it was his eyes that captured her. She could not look away, as difficult as it was to take in his beauty, as polite as it was not to stare.
The sun that had warmed her open was long gone, the chill creeping close, and she shivered. But on they talked, trading words back and forth along lips to ears.
He was married, he told her, but it had already ended in his mind, only the words to break it needed to be spoken. His wife was a greedy ogre he had been forced to marry as part of an enchantment, and she lusted after him like a thing, keeping control and spoiling herself. His life was hell.
Persephone's young heart opened to take him in; how could anyone terrorize a creature of such beauty inside and out? She wanted to protect him, to rescue him from his life of slavery and bring him into a world of joy.
They talked through the night about the darkness of others and diamond minds. Persephone was excited to meet such an interesting stranger, with such a complex life and engaging words. Even though he had never loved her, Hades had been bound to his wife not only through enchantment but also the three children they shared.
But how did that happen, Persephone asked, that you could have three children with a woman you didn't love?
I don't know, he replied, it was circumstance more than anything. I love all three, he added, the kind of love only a parent can know for his children.
A chill crept through the air as dawn approached. They had talked the whole night through, and now Hades had to leave.
What am I doing here, he said, as though he had been roused from some confusion, waking to where he was. Persephone held out her hand and he took it, holding her palm in his as the sky lightened.
I could come with you, she said, her eyes lit and heart open, ready to face whatever lay beneath the ground. I don't want to hold you back, he demurred. I want to come, she said. I don't know if I can give you what I need, he cautioned. I love you, she said, and stepped into the earth.