Sherlock Holmes, god of the Underworld, had learned at an early age that his fate was to be lonely for all eternity. He was the fate of every human and feared by all, even by some of the gods. He was ruthless, domineering and many would say without conscience.
His brother Mycroft Holmes, reigned on Mount Olympus with all of the other gods, while Sherlock was alone in the Underworld. Although, he'd never admit it, in the deepest, most private of his dark heart, he did have one wish that he could not seem to extinguish.
He looked into his cavern of water which allowed him to see the earth, experiencing a pang in his heart at the sight of Molly Hooper. With all the goddesses and women he'd ever seen she was the one who'd seized his attention. Molly's appeal went beyond her physical beauty, even though she had that in abundance. It was her goodness, her honest and clean soul that was so opposite to him that attracted him.
He'd never forgotten the first moment he'd seen her, gathering flowers across a plain. The sun shining on her chestnut hair and her glowing skin. The kindness and happiness shining out of her topaz eyes and he longed to touch her beautiful skin. He wanted her so bad, but knew there was no way she'd willingly come to the Underworld and that he'd have to find a way to make her want him.
He also knew that her mother, Demeter, goddess of agriculture would never consent to the match. There was only one way she could be his, he'd have to kidnap her, and turn her into the goddess of the Underworld.
Mycroft warned him that Demeter would never consent to the match, for she wouldn't want her daughter taken to a sunless world, Mycroft did consent to it, thinking it would be good for his brother to have someone with Molly's kindness.
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It was another beautiful day in her mother's fields of eternal spring, Molly sighed contentedly as she picked orchids and violets in the sunshine. Her white dress floated around her body as the wind teased her long hair. As she stood, she heard a thundering and glanced towards it to see a dark four horsed chariot rush towards her. She was snatched up by a long arm and her flowers were strewn across the ground as the ground opened up. She called out for her mother and friends as the chariot led by the black horses drove down into the depths of the earth. It happened so fast that no one had heard poor Molly.
When she regained consciousness, the ground felt cold to her body, and she stood up in the shadowy half-darkness. She saw that the ground she thought she'd been lying on was in fact a bed covered with black silk. Though she couldn't see anyone, she felt that she was being watched.
"Where, where am I?" She heard her own voice but it was shaky and thin.
Nobody answered, but she knew someone was over in the corner. She was debating walking over there and Molly's curiosity won over her fear, and she walked towards a figure. A slender figure moved away from the wall, he was dressed in black, with a flowing coat over his clothes. He had dark curly hair, pale skin, high cheekbones, and plush cupid bow lips. She was surprised to see icy clear blue-green eyes staring down at her from his height.
As he moved to hold her, she jerked away, and a flicker of unease slid down her spine. She knew this man. She knew the stories, this was the god of the Underworld, and he was Hades!
"What have you done?" she cried out as his hands did come to hold her in his arms.
"I've brought you to your new home."
"Am I dead?"
His eyebrows pulled together, and he seemed confused. "No little goddess, you're not dead, I've brought you here to be my wife."