The pair passed several long moments in silence as the goddess pondered the mortal. Orpheus winced to feel her cold stare upon him. Carefully, he lifted his face to meet her gaze. “My Queen?” he questioned.

Persephone frowned. “When I found you wandering Hades’ hallowed halls,” she said. “I presumed you to be another fool mortal seeking to subvert the order ordained by the gods. I was quite satisfied to let Tartarus have its way with you.”

Horror claimed Orpheus’ countenance. He dropped his head to resume his groveling. “Please, my Queen, I beg you! Do not leave me in this place!”

“You think you deserve a fairer fate?” came the voice of the stranger in the pond, now calmer in the imposing presence of the goddess. He laughed bitterly. “Look upon me and despair; mine is the fate that awaits even a king among men. You are doomed, boy!”

“Perhaps not,” countered the Queen.

“What?” said the stranger darkly.

Orpheus looked up at her in quiet anticipation. Persephone furrowed her brow.

“I am no longer certain of your evil,” she explained. “The shades of Tartarus can be especially cunning, but you were not swayed by Tantalus’ pleading. You held fast to your fealty to Olympus. There is wisdom in that.”

“Always, goddess, always!” Orpheus exclaimed. “I have come with Apollo’s blessing to-”

“I know why you are here,” Persephone interrupted. She turned her back to Orpheus and stroked her chin. “You have made it rather far in pursuit of your lost love. Even so, you are a live mortal in the plane of the dead. It would be most prudent to kill you.”

“Leave me the carcass!” Tantalus pleaded. “Gods have no use for his flesh!” Persephone cut her eyes at him, and immediately, a stone stake rose from the pond to run the sinner through.

Though he could not bleed, Tantalus choked and gurgled just the same. His features twisted in agony as Persephone turned dispassionate eyes on him. Behind her, Orpheus reached for his lyre.

“You have no say in this, filicide,” the Queen stated coldly. “I demand your silence.”

Tantalus was powerless to defy her, but he cared not; the stake had lifted him up. Now at eye level with the branches that ever teased him, he felt a surge of hope and hunger. “At last,” he wheezed, and he reached for the fruit. Alas, it only rose higher to evade him. The vile king shrieked his fury.

His rage was reflected in Persephone’s features, so offended was she by his wailing. But her mounting wrath broke when Orpheus plucked out a note from his lyre. Once more, the blessed instrument resumed its shine.

The goddess turned to face him as his lips parted to release his euphonious voice to Tartarus’ unforgiving winds. He merely hummed, but even that was enough to still the air. The bard ran his fingers across all of his lyre’s strings, then plucked his way through in reverse.

“I am already dead,” the sorry bard said. “That is why I’m here. I feel at home amidst the shades because my Heart is near.”

Orpheus closed his eyes and surrendered to his art. His fingers danced deftly over the strings of the golden lyre while he spoke in sing-song tones. Persephone watched him with curiosity the likes of which she seldom displayed in the darkness of the depths.

In the moment, the goddess forgot prudence and opted to let the bard sing his piece to the realm. He hummed along to his playing for a few moments more, but surely enough, his heart’s song followed.

“A god on high has offered me in this a second chance to see
Her smile.
I’ve moved with Death, I’ve summoned Sleep, and Hope and Life have moved in me,
This trial -
Tries my resolve.
Still, I -
Try to evolve…”

Orpheus paused his singing to get to his feet and slowed the pace of his plucking. He took to strumming long, mournful tones, and he swayed along to his song. Entirely lost in his performance, he failed to notice as the dark realm shifted and morphed around him.

It was Persephone’s will that moved it--or rather, she moved the two of them. But his song yet reached into the depths of Tartarus, for she took them to the place to which every dark space was bound.

And the bard played on.

“Look – and - see.
See how she steps – so – free.
Beauty unbound.
I am unwound.
Why would she look – at – me?

“She – is – Spring.
I’m but a death – ly – thing.
Ever bound here,
But Love’s in my ear,
So let my love – take – wing.”

In the face of Orpheus’ song, the subject of the moment relaxed in his ebony throne. His cold and flint-like features softened as a world full of wailing went quiet.

Deep in Tartarus, Tantalus lay still in his unmerciful pool. For once in his eternity, he'd ceased his struggle after sustenance; even his hunger was sated as the bard’s song reached him from above. “If only these notes would remain with me,” he mused, “I might never know thirst again.”

Deeper still, the flames that tortured a covetous king ceased to burn on the wheel that bound him. The wheel in turn stopped in its tracks, that no sound might arise to disrupt the song. The reprieve gave the fallen regent a chance to hear the music. He quieted as well, and with that break in his shrieking, he knew at last a peace he’d been cursed to never find.

Near the edge of Elysium, yet another king labored, or at least he had before. For once, Sisyphus was content to sit in darkness at the base of his hill with the boulder that ever bound him there. He leaned upon the accursed stone and let Orpheus’ voice carry him off. “Have I reached it at last?” he asked. “Is this my holy prize?”

It was not. But to the three damned kings and the shades of the Styx--to the pitiless Ferryman and the guardian hound--the song of Orpheus proved a sweeter sound than they could ever have hoped to hear in Hades. It reached all of them and more, soothing every soul in the Underworld.

The bard returned to his speedy staccato, and a subtle smile brightened his features as he called memories of his own beloved to mind. Feeling at last a renewed connection to the one soul he’d come to claim, Orpheus widened his smile as he raised his voice in her name.

“How can I begin to be what myth and lore would make of me
Without you?
I may be one as we are two, but let my one be one with you
As I do -
All that I can -
To earn -
Your blessed hand.”

He twirled in place a single time, calling up the memory of her delightful dance that fateful day. In his mind’s eye, he saw again the flowers, the trees, the nymphs, and the heroes, all gathered to see the happy pair exchange vows. But he saw none more clearly than Eurydice, whose smile pressed him on.

“I sing a song of Spring and Love
And call on all who sit above
To keep me as I keep my word;
My pain is nearly cured.

“I lay my Life at holy feet,
I face down Death and move with Sleep,
I hold to Hope and cast out fear;
I know my Heart is here.”

Sensing the end of inspiration, Orpheus ceased his swaying and dropped to one knee in reverent genuflection. He had but one phrase left to play, and with it, he sang his last.

“I sing a song of Spring and Love
I’ll sing until I’ve sung enough
To move the hearts that rule the dead,
Themselves through toil wed.

“Let Eurydice return with me.
Let us leave in wedded glee.
Let not this song of Love and Spring
Be the last I sing.”

A final prolonged run up the strings marked the end of Orpheus’ song. He sucked in a deep breath and exhaled. Slowly, his eyes crept open.

“Impressive.”

The unexpected bass in the seated King’s voice gave Orpheus a start, and his eyes snapped wide as he raised his face. Only when he met the cold amber stare of the Underworld King did he finally realize where he knelt, and he knew that kneeling was not enough.

He scrambled onto all fours and prostrated himself, now honoring two gods instead of just the one. “Great King!” he exclaimed, but his wit failed him as he struggled to comprehend how he’d gotten there. “How? Er, a thousand pardons. Did my lyre-”

“I brought you here,” Persephone interjected with a smile. Brighter now that she was free of the depths, she giggled at the bewildered bard. “I recognized something special swelling in your soul. It would have been a shame for my King to miss it.”

“I would have my Queen follow her instincts,” countered the King. “Your thought to kill him was appropriate. He does not belong.”

“Neither did I, but here I am.”

Hades groaned. Persephone grinned. The King and Queen held hands.