The innocent beauty of that face, the warm and happy spirit shining through those clear eyes, brought to him feelings he had never known. He thought to hold her close, to stroke that soft hair, to caress with gentle touch her smooth skin.
And within him, too, aroused the desires of a man. For though her face was that of youth, her body was of sculptured beauty that Venus might envy.
When Pluto beheld her all thoughts save one departed his mind.
This was to be his bride!
He tarried there, danced in parody of handsome prince, sang in voice marred and croaking. She mocked him not; rather, smiled.
Of flowers garlands she made, given to him in innocent pride. She sang sweet songs of light and sunshine, of crystal stars and mellow moon, of flowers that did not die, with blossoms that forever bloom.
He told her sad tales of a dark and lonesome realm, of those for whom hope was no more, and of a keeper who sat in solitude in mastery of that realm. A keeper who, more than all dwellers therein, was prisoner of that realm.
From her eye, soft flowed a tear. From her hand, a gentle touch. He thought not to ask for more.
They parted, though never long. Always his mighty steeds drove through time and space, returning once more to that quiet retreat. The love he felt for the innocent child grew ever stronger. Still, he approached her, not in courtship, but as a friend.
"Your arrow has flown true. It lacked the needed potency. He loves her as does a brother. Once more loose your bow, and into his heart drive desire, passion. And I shall open wide her eyes, that she may see him as the monstrous form he is. He joys in her presence, feels not the pain of unrequited love. As he has ignored me, she shall reject him!"
Venus caused once more Cupid's arrow to fly. An arrow not tinged with sweet love, rather poisoned with selfish lust. And even as the arrow flew she closed the eyes of Persephone, let her dream of handsome prince. Handsome prince, of looks far removed from those of this dread companion.