Chapter Text
Since the war against the giants was making little progress and the efforts at negotiating a treaty had failed, Zeus called his brothers to Olympus for a conference. The three kings discussed the recent battle of Kesavos, the narrow escape of the giant king Porphyrion, and the need to bring the unpleasantness to an end.
“Once we capture their damned king, all this crap can be wrapped up,” Zeus growled. “I’m sick and tired of all the bragging and whining from people who think they’re heroes.”
Hades snorted. “Naturally, you could have finished this war all on your own if it weren’t for your pushy children, with their egotistical need to seize the spotlight.”
“With one hand tied behind his back,” Poseidon put in, grinning widely.
“Yes, fine, I get it,” Zeus said. “Everyone did their part and deserves recognition for it.” He sighed and waved a hand in dismissal. “I’ll never hear the end of it, otherwise. We’ll have to throw a big party and hand out trinkets.”
“I suppose you want me to provide the gold for those rewards,” Hades said, curling his lip slightly.
Zeus took this for an offer. “Great! And gems, too?”
The eldest of the brothers rolled his eyes before he sighed and nodded.
Poseidon nodded as well, with a lot more enthusiasm. “I’ll donate a bunch of pearls, too. What are you going to use them for?”
“Maybe drinking cups,” Zeus said, thinking aloud. “Engraved with battle scenes. I would ask Hephaestus, but….”
A loaded silence fell over the room, with no one meeting anyone else’s eyes.
“Um, anyway,” Poseidon said. “I’ve got plenty of cups, so maybe come up with something else. Gotta go, there are troops that need drilling.” He waved cheerfully to his brothers as he departed the room.
The King of the Gods pasted an inscrutable expression on his face before turning to Hades.
“You haven’t asked for a share of the plunder yourself,” Zeus said. “Is that modesty? Or you have everything you want?”
Hades waved this away. “I help because you’re my brother. Would you rather I just watch while the world above goes up in flames?”
“You did more than help. Maybe you weren’t as flamboyant as some, but you've been pivotal in several battles, and I know you’ve provided lots of money and materials. You deserve a reward, too.”
Hades was fully aware of his brother’s monumental sense of entitlement, which made this flood of praise terribly suspicious. Zeus must want something. Most likely, he had another task too dirty or difficult for an Olympian. “And what do you have in mind?”
Zeus didn’t even bother to be subtle. “Well, in fact, I need your help with a problem. There’s this goddess, getting too big for her boots.” He paused to snort. “Literally, even.”
Hades didn’t even want to contemplate what that might mean. “Oh? Good for her.”
“No, seriously, she’s a major issue. Too much power for one deity, and she’s not exactly a team player, if you know what I mean. I never would have let it get this bad, but the war took priority, and now she’s already popular. A hero.”
That was enough for Hades to connect the dots. “Let me guess, Demeter’s daughter? The one I hear about all the time? What’s her name, it’s something wonderfully menacing….”
“Persephone,” Zeus snarled.
“That’s the one!” Hades grinned, faintly delighted by his brother’s discomfort. “From what I hear, this war wouldn’t be going so well without her help. Didn’t she destroy Polybotes all by herself last week?”
“Uh huh. As a fertility goddess, she’s a distraction. Potentially a magnet for rebellion. I need to get her locked down.”
“What the hell does that mean? You want to sign her up as a formal ally?”
“No, I need her powers in the hands of someone I trust.”
Hades shook his head. “Revolting. I assume that means you’re handing her over as a marital prize to someone. Which of your sons is the lucky god?”
“Well…Apollo wants her, so I sent him off the other day with an official decree. Told him to get it done however he saw fit.”
A recipe for disaster, as Hades saw it. But he knew when to keep his opinions to himself. “That didn’t work out?”
“She sent him home in a sack.”
“So? That would be an improvement, given his face.”
“In multiple pieces.”
Hades snorted a laugh. “I like this goddess more and more.”
“Well, that’s perfect, then. I want you to marry her.”
“...Ex-fucking-scuse me?”
“Marry her, so she’s got someone riding herd on her. Demeter certainly won’t do it. She’s dangerous and I can’t have her running around the Mortal Realm, accumulating a power base. She’s already got too many worshipers.”
Hades pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. All of this stupid shit was giving him a headache. “Are you hearing yourself? This damned war started with two giants demanding to carry off a pair of goddesses to be their brides, and you want me to carry off another? Are we no better than our enemies?”
“Do I need to remind you that it’s Gaia’s anger and her power that inflicted the giants on us? I don’t need more uncontrolled fertility power, particularly not in someone so young and undisciplined.” Zeus paused to nod firmly, as if he’d won the argument. “Woo her all you like, shower her with gifts, seduce her, whatever. Just get her under control. That’s your wheelhouse, right?”
Hades heaved a sigh. His brother did have a point, but this sure as fuck wasn’t the best way to dispel whatever potential threat the young goddess represented. “Right, because coveting someone’s power is such a good basis for a marriage. Not to mention how to treat an important ally.”
“Look, I can’t force you, but very soon I will need to take action. I assume you have room for her in Tartarus, if not in your bed.”
Hades’s jaw dropped. “She’s a hero! Everything she’s done has been to help preserve your throne! How can you threaten her with imprisonment?”
“Tell that to Prometheus,” Zeus snapped. “I get that she means well, at least for the moment, but an unfettered fertility goddess is more chaos than I can tolerate. You know what they’re like.”
“I’ve heard your wacky theories.” Hades refrained from rolling his eyes, as his head already felt like it was splitting.
“Look, I’ve seen her grow to Titan size and smash giants! Don’t tell me it’s wacky!”
“Yes, but that’s hardly the same as—”
“Just take her off my hands, please? She’s pretty enough, and I’m sure she has other good qualities. Surely that’s already a lot better than your usual girlfriends.”
Hades shut his mouth with a click and narrowed his eyes. His rocky romantic history, particularly his cataclysmic last breakup, was a subject that his brother often used to needle him. There wasn’t any point to rehashing it, especially since he suspected Zeus was at least partially right. “Don’t do anything drastic until I’ve had a chance to meet her.”
Zeus smiled, the smug bastard. “Of course. But don’t drag your feet. This is important.”
On his way out of the palace, busily contemplating how to approach a young goddess who must be leery by now, Hades turned a corner and walked right into another god. He retreated a step, an apology ready on his lips.
“Watch where you’re going, asshole!” snapped the other. The purple god began brushing imaginary dirt from his jacket, as if a collision with the King of the Underworld was equivalent to being doused in filth.
“Apollo,” Hades replied, keeping his temper with an effort. “You’ve recovered from your terrible ordeal?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
The older god nodded, pursing his mouth with an imitation of sympathy. “How callous of me to remind you of your recent dismemberment. It must have been a tremendous humiliation for you.”
Someone would have to tell Apollo how unattractive he was when he made that face. Or perhaps Hades would keep it to himself and enjoy the hobby of bringing out that jackoff’s inner ugliness.
“Is that what she told you, the little pink liar? Her stupid trick of getting big is the only accomplishment she’s got. No skill, no dignity. She’s a monster in a pretty costume.”
“You throw that label around like it means something bad,” Hades commented. “Haven’t you figured out yet that gods are the worst monsters of all?”
“You would think so,” Apollo snarled. He immediately turned his back and stalked away, as if he’d won the confrontation.
“Well, I do have more experience,” Hades called, succumbing to a temptation to pettiness. “But unlike you I don’t automatically fear the unfamiliar.”
The only reply was a wave of Apollo’s middle finger.
Persephone’s world turned upside down one afternoon when she discovered a sight that set her heart fluttering. It started out as an ordinary day, with chores, messages, and a conference with her mother and their staff about the upcoming grain harvest. The meeting was coming to an end when a nymph came running in, breathless with the news of a pack of striges infesting the northernmost hayfield.
The young goddess rose to her feet, sighing with annoyance. The creatures had better not ruin the hay that was just beginning to ripen.
“I’ll go take care of it, Mama. I think we were about done, anyway?”
“Of course, darling. Do you want to take a few people along as backup?”
Persephone rolled her eyes at her mother’s over-caution. “No, that’s all right. I can handle them, and I could use a little time to myself. If there’s a problem, I’ll transfer back home.”
“All right, then. You deserve the chance to blow off some steam, after all you’ve done lately. I’ll see you at dinner, little bean.”
Wouldn’t it be more responsible to take the time to walk to the hayfield, in order to be certain that none of the striges were causing problems? Persephone nodded to herself, pleased with a decision that worked to meet her personal needs as well as strategic ones. She considered what she knew about striges, in order to be ready to defeat them. The strangely modified shades were a side effect of the war, and a great nuisance. No one was certain what had brought them about, or why they were drawn to attack both mortal and immortal settlements.
Most Olympians thought the striges were servants of the giants, probably created by them. At least some giants had powers of their own, granted to them by Gaia when she created the latest generation of her children. Due to Persephone’s size-altering ability, her role in the war was mainly fighting against giants, although ensuring that the food supply remained steady for gods and humans alike was also essential. It wasn’t usual for her to fight striges, as there were other gods who specialized in that task, but she supposed it would make an interesting change.
The war was going fairly well lately, now that the giants were greatly diminished both in numbers and supplies. Perhaps soon they would all be either eradicated or captured. Though she was grateful that she’d had the opportunity to prove her strength and independence, particularly to her mother, she took no joy in fighting. Finding a new career would be a welcome opportunity. Her life had been on hold long enough.
Upon arriving at the field in question, she found part of the tall grass smashed down in a wide circle, and a skirmish taking place. The striges were mostly on the ground already, some of them in pieces, with only four still moving. The perpetrators of all this mayhem stood at the center of the flattened grass. One of them was pale and winged, dressed in light armor. He tried to grab a strix but flailed, and his quarry slipped away, baring its teeth and hissing. Dagger-length claws slashed and dug into the winged god’s flesh, drawing a yelp from him.
Persephone started to run, intending to help, but skidded to a stop when she spotted him. The second god—tall, speckled with stars, and absolutely gorgeous —ripped a creature in half and turned to seize the one attacking the winged god. He had claws of his own and moved like he was dancing. And fast. With a flourish he twisted the fiend’s head off.
The remaining two striges tried to run, but the tall god bent to scoop up a long weapon from the ground, some kind of spear with a double-pronged end. No, it was a bident. The bident. Which meant that he …. The tall god slashed with his weapon: once, twice, and it was over. The remains of the striges shredded like flimsy fabric in the light breeze, then crumbled into dust.
The tall god released the bident, allowing it to disappear into the aether. The starry brightness faded from his eyes as the darkness melted from his skin, revealing his normal shade. A rich, exquisite blue, the color of the evening sky or a perfect forget-me-not, which set off the pale hair that swooped back from this brow. Persephone sighed deeply, feeling her insides go all warm and melty.
The blue god shook his head at the shorter one, his posture conveying disappointment. “How many times must I tell you not to turn your back on them?” he snapped. “Are you trying to get yourself drained?”
The shorter god wiped his face nervously and shook his head. The harangue went on, the tall one speaking in a lower tone, though no less forceful. The winged god hung his head, nodding along, giving every sign of contrition.
Persephone crouched behind a screen of standing hay to watch the conversation, fascinated. She couldn’t hear much, so she was free to ogle the blue god, whose identity was obvious to her. In some ways, he matched the stories she’d been told, but in others, he was wildly unexpected. Taller than any other god she knew, broad shouldered, with an arresting presence. He was simply beautiful.
And so strong! He had twisted that monster’s head clean off! How did he do that? Striges were notoriously tough and difficult to grip.
His anger with the other god prompted him to dish out the sharper side of his tongue, but without much heat. She caught something about sticking to the plan and not trying any ridiculous additions. And something about the shorter god owing him one? The blue god’s voice was deep and rumbly, setting something quivering inside her.
He was clad in the usual sort of battle garb that most gods wore habitually these days, a breastplate over a dark tunic, with boots and vambraces. The scars left exposed by his clothing arrested her attention. Were they from the current war, or earlier? The Titanomachy, perhaps? There was something unlikely about his face, as if it was assembled from spare parts, and yet, no one had ever stirred her the way he did.
When the shorter god finally departed, running from the field at a rapid pace, Persephone left her position. She trotted silently through the standing hay and emerged right in front of the blue god. He didn’t notice her approach until she popped out from the tall grass practically under his feet.
“Hello!” she cried.
He yelled in shock, flinching back from her. “Who the hell are you?”
With his gaze on her, she found that she didn’t want to tell him her new name. It had strong associations from the war, which might put him off. “Isn’t it a lovely day? I’m Kore.”
He blinked several times as he processed this information. “Oh…are you?”
“Am I what?”
“I mean...sorry, I just realized I misinterpreted your name. I beg your pardon.”
“Oh, that. ” She looked away, her cheeks heating. “Well, the other is also true. Unfortunately.”
Did he blush, too? Was that even possible, for a god as old as he had to be?
He glanced around before his gaze settled on her face again. “I...uh...this is an odd conversation.”
She had a wild urge to make him laugh, a driving eagerness to know what happiness sounded like for him. It would be exquisite, she was certain. “I suppose it is. I gave you my name, though. What’s yours?”
He raised an eyebrow in open skepticism. “You don’t know who I am?”
“I have my suspicions, because I’m not a fool. But no, I don’t know for sure.” She did, though. He couldn't be anyone else.
“My name’s not quite so descriptive, I’m afraid.” He reached into a pocket and came out with a small dark rectangle of stiff paper, which he handed over with a flourish.
It read: Hades, King of the Underworld, God of the Dead, God of Wealth, along with a bunch of his alternate names.
“So,” she said, as mischief seized her. “Do you carry this around in order to help you remember all of your names and titles, Your Majesty?”
A snort escaped him. Not quite the laugh she wanted, but a start. “It’s to give to other people, so they know how to contact me.”
“Hit the ground twice, huh? That really works?”
“It does.”
She was pleased that he had given her a way to contact him. “And I can keep this?”
“Sure.”
“Thank you. It’s too bad I don’t have one to offer you. I guess you’ll forget my name by the time you get home.”
He shook his head. “I won’t forget you. Your name, or anything else.” He hesitated, twisting his mouth thoughtfully. “Is Kore really your true name?”
She didn’t want to lie, nor to give her better-known name. Not yet. “It’s the name my mother gave me. I don’t care for it, though. Who calls somebody little girl for their whole life? Or even worse, maiden ? It’s the worst sort of wish fulfillment.”
“Maybe you should pick a new one, then. I did that myself.”
“Did you? I don’t know, though, what do you think I should pick?”
“How about kardiokataktítria? ” he replied, showing a sharp grin and hooded eyes.
“Heartbreaker? That’s just rude!” She stomped her foot, pretending to anger, but the sense of play in his expression brought a reluctant curve to her lips anyway.
“I meant because you nearly gave me a heart attack a few minutes ago. If you sneak up on people, you need to expect a certain amount of retaliation.”
“I suppose it’s a fearsome name, in a way. I could do worse.”
The other god returned at a fast trot, features drawn in apprehension. His pale gray skin was shiny with sweat, and his feathered wings fluttered with nervousness. “Sorry, Boss, the nymphs I spoke to said that they don’t know where to find her. She went off and didn’t say where she was going.”
Hades’s face froze and his eyes widened. He darted a quick glance at Persephone, as if calculating how his present companion was going to react to hearing that he was looking for a woman.
She made her voice as bright and perky as she could manage. “Oh, who are you looking for? I know everyone hereabouts. Maybe I can help.”
The blue god seemed, if anything, even more wary. He cleared his throat and drew up to his full height before speaking. “In fact, I came to get a look at Demeter’s daughter. Or even to speak to her, if it could be arranged away from her mother’s eyes.”
Persephone’s heart leaped in her chest and she was very glad that she’d given him her old name. Her assumed identity gave her a chance to find out his intentions without giving anything away. “Oh, you mean Persephone. I know her. Why do you want to talk to her?”
He nodded slowly, but didn’t answer her question. “Maybe you could do me a favor, and ask her to meet me?”
“I could do that, but what incentive are you offering me?”
“Excuse me?” He raised an eyebrow, his irritation starting to uncoil.
She grinned, hoping he would try to berate her like he’d done to this cringing minion. That would give her an excuse to tease him some more. “You know,” she prompted, “some reward? Demeter won’t be happy with me if I arrange for her precious baby to meet with…well, you. If I’m letting myself in for a scolding, I need something enjoyable in return.”
Hades snorted and folded his arms, then glared at the other god, who hovered anxiously nearby. “Well, you were no help,” he said to the winged god. “Go and ask Hecate if she knows what this goddess looks like.”
The other nodded rapidly and disappeared, not before releasing a soft sigh of relief.
“What, you don’t believe that I know her?” Persephone allowed herself a giggle over the absurdity of the situation. “I could take you to her right now if you make it worth my time.”
“Fine,” Hades said, drawing out the word into almost a purr. He was definitely up to something. “How much do you want?” He extracted a pouch from under his breastplate and bounced it in his hand, letting her hear the jingle of coins.
“Uh-uh, I don’t want money.” She bit her tongue, deliberately taunting him. This god fascinated her and the scenario was too delicious to rush. “For starters, I want you to tell me why you want to meet her.”
He chuckled, soft and low, taking his time. And just as she imagined, his laugh was wonderful . A chill of excitement slid down her spine.
“No,” he said at last. “Tempting as it is to see the expression on your face, I won’t tell you. It’s no one else’s business but mine and that of the lady in question.”
“Oh, I get it,” Persephone said, bouncing on her toes. “That means you think it’s private.” She tapped one finger to her lips as if thinking through the implications. “I’ll bet you mean to court her!” Her cheeks heated, so hot she must be glowing. It was a big risk suggesting that an elder god—a king! —might want her. She figured her guess had only a small chance of being correct, but in her heart she hoped it was so.
His head jerked back and his eyes widened. “Where did you get that idea?”
She was right . Her head whirled and her feet wanted to dance, but she controlled the impulse. The only way to get what she wanted out of this conversation was to be bold and charming. “When an unmarried god wants to speak to an unmarried goddess, it’s not exactly difficult, is it? But you’re going about it all wrong, you know.”
“I am? Why do you say that?”
“First, coming in the middle of the day is never going to work. Demeter is too particular about work hours. Second, you didn’t even bring any flowers.”
He looked like he wanted to be taking notes. “Flowers? Really? For the Goddess of Spring?”
“Yes? At least it shows you made an effort. What, were you going to offer her a pouch full of coins?”
“No! That would be an insult.”
“You didn’t bring any gift, then?”
Hades frowned, thinking this through. “I can make diamonds….”
She had to laugh at his consternation. “That’s very sweet, but not really a first meeting kind of gift.”
“Hm. I guess it’s a good thing I met you, so you can correct my errors.”
“That’s right. Shall I take you to meet her now?” And how would she manage that? Take him on a long walk and maybe lure him into some sheltered grove, to make him forget that she’d lied about her name? Well, that would be fun. She shivered slightly at the idea.
“No.” He shook his head as a certain light of doubt entered his eyes. “This has been a fascinating conversation, but unfortunately I have other demands on my time. Besides, bloodstains don't make the best first impression.” He gestured to his clothes, sullied from the encounter with the striges .
Surprise widened her eyes and tightened her throat. Had he really intended to give her only a few minutes? Perhaps her deduction about his intentions was wrong after all. “Then you need to go now?”
“I’m afraid so.” He tilted his head and stared down at her, his eyes full of…was he sad?
She sucked in a breath, a little overcome by the focus of his attention. Even if they never met again, she needed to make him remember her. “Well, then. Give me a kiss.”
“What?” His mouth dropped open.
“A kiss. Don’t you know how?”
“Of course I know how!”
“What are you waiting for, then?” She tilted her face up, eyes closed, lips puckered. Nothing happened. Persephone opened her eyes as her heart plummeted in disappointment. “Oh. Was I too forward for you? Or not pretty enough or something? I know there must be some reason why I don’t get many offers for kisses. I guess I’m just not very kissable.”
He goggled. “How could you ever imagine that? You’re exquisite!”
“But not your type, I suppose?”
“You...I…but….” He stopped, shook his head, and sighed deeply, muttering to himself under his breath.
Persephone caught only a word or two, something with a curse in it. She took a step back and folded her hands demurely, casting her eyes down and only glancing at him through her lashes. “I beg your pardon, sir. It was rude of me to ask.”
His shoulders drooped and his eyes—the sorrow he projected stabbed her heart. She wanted to cup his cheek, smooth the hair back from his brow, cradle his head on her shoulder. Anything to purge the melancholy from his eyes.
“It wasn’t rude,” he said. “I apologize, Kore. I feel like I’ve been playing catch-up this entire conversation, but I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“Oh.” Why would he not kiss her, then?
He shook his head. “I just wasn’t expecting such an offer. Are you sure?”
“Why wouldn’t I want to kiss you? Please? I won’t tell anyone.”
She wasn’t sure what emotion was behind the expression that crossed his face, but it wasn’t what she expected.
His mouth flattened out to a grim sort of smile, as if she’d just confirmed something he suspected but didn’t want to be true. “Certainly I would never expect such a beautiful goddess to brag about anything to do with me.”
“Oh!” Persephone touched her lips, realizing she’d managed to insult him, entirely without meaning to. “I would tell anyone who would listen if I could trust them. But practically everyone I know would go running to report to my mother, and then I’d get that scolding I mentioned.” Closer to the truth than she’d meant to reveal, but she would say almost anything to take away his pain.
“Ah, I see. You’re offering me discretion. Forgive me for jumping to conclusions. I seem to be misinterpreting half of what you say.” He held out his hand and she stared at it, not sure what he wanted.
After a moment, she placed her hand on top of his. He grasped her fingers and tugged to bring her close. When she stepped up so her toes touched his, he folded his free arm around her back.
“Now then, lovely Heartbreaker, what was it you requested of me?”
She stared at his mouth, hovering above her face, entranced. “Sorry? I didn’t catch that.”
He breathed a tiny laugh. “What did you ask for?”
“A kiss, please, sir.” Wait, was it awful of her to ask? She’d probably hate it if some man demanded a kiss from her. She blushed deeply. “Um, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind.”
His head lowered toward her and she let her eyes drift shut. His cool, crisp scent filled her senses. When she felt the soft stir of his breath she thought he might tease her, pull away and deny her request.
But he did not.
The firm press of Hades’s mouth on hers set off a surge of tingles through her entire body, flooding her with heat and overloading her senses like nothing Persephone had ever experienced. She’d been kissed before, a few times anyway, but none of those had made her feel like she was finally complete. Like she was floating on clouds, with molten lava flowing through her veins. There was no awkwardness, no sense of unease. Melting against his lips, she gripped his shoulders with both hands, determined to make it last.
Her breasts pressed into the expanse of his chest, her pounding heart so close to his. Her skin felt tight and hot, sensitized to every breath of air. His big hands held her at the waist, and the tip of his tongue gave the faintest caress to her own. Had she imagined it? He did it again and she thought her body would explode from trying to contain her racing pulse.
Hades pulled back, his eyes heavy-lidded. He gazed at her from a short distance, checking to see her reaction. His imperious nose grazed her cheek, which she chose to take as a deliberate and affectionate gesture.
She wanted to ask him to kiss her again, or just lean in and steal another, but her will was somehow disconnected from her body. Her feet met the ground and only then did she realize that Hades had picked her up and held her in the air.
He released her and took half a step back. “Was that a sufficient answer to your request, my lady Heartbreaker?”
“Ummm….” Was that her own voice? It sounded so groggy and far away.
Hades gave her a lopsided smile, his eyes crinkling with pleasure. “Thank you. This afternoon was a great deal more fruitful than I imagined it would be.”
He swept a dramatic, faintly ironic bow and disappeared just before Persephone’s knees buckled and her bottom hit the dirt.