A long while ago I saw Gadgeficrecs mention someone was looking for a Hades/Persephone Gadge AU and I immediately began dreaming up this story. I minored in classical civilizations, so this is right up my alley.

I've been sitting on it for a while, but I've finally decided to finish and post it. I plan to update weekly and I hope you enjoy!

daughter of the golden fields

Madge sighed as she sat amongst the swaying stalks of wheat, each one golden in the sun. It was a beautiful day, the sky boundless and blue, the air pleasant and cheery with a soft breeze tickling the loose hairs around her face. She pressed her palms to the warm earth beneath her and could hear the wheat whispering to her, a chorus of friendly voices. Madge smiled slightly and closed her eyes, soaking in their words. She could feel the pulse of their life through her fingers and she listened intently to every story they wanted to share, wishing deep in her heart that she had a story of her own to tell.

"Madge! Madge, come in darling, it's getting late!"

She opened her eyes slowly and looked to her right, the voices of the wheat fading to a murmur. Her mother Seeder, goddess of agriculture, the harvest, fertility and sacred law, stood by their home, her hand held out as if she might reach the distance between them and pull her daughter inside. Madge dug her nails into the dirt and stood, trying her best to match her mother's smile. Seeder beckoned her over and Madge went, trailing her hands through the wheat as she did.

"It's almost dark, come in, come in," Seeder said and Madge did not look at the sky still bright with Marvel's sun. It was late afternoon, the advent of Katniss and her chariot of the moon still far off, but Madge knew there was no point in saying such to her mother. Seeder gently pushed her through the entrance and then shut the door, locking it firmly behind her. Madge held in her sigh and settled down by the hearth, her loom waiting as it always was. She picked up limp threads with even limper fingers and Seeder smiled, running a hand down her daughter's hair.

"I'll start on supper," she said and Madge nodded, melancholy falling over her shoulders like a familiar shroud. She turned to look out the window when her mother was out of sight and felt a sharp tug in her chest. Madge loved her mother and she understood that the world was sometimes dark and dangerous, but she couldn't help but yearn for more. Nearly all her hours were spent kept safe in this house and the few she spent outdoors were always nearby. She saw only a handful of people her mother trusted and if it weren't for her plants and the stories they told her, she would know almost nothing about the world beyond her home. They whispered to her of heroes and monsters, of giants and magic and love, beauty, wonder and great heaving oceans, but all these things were nothing to her but dreams. This house was all she knew.

Sunshine fell across the floor and warmed her toes, longing reaching greedy hands into her chest.

There must be more to life than this

There must be