A/N: I'd like to thank Edem for further prompting on this so Hera still maintains her marriage goddess-tier loyalties. I'd also like to thank all the Punderworld fans in general for being so sweet and supportive of fanworks, even if it's just gay trash like this! I'd ALSO like to thank Sigeel for creating the hottest Charon I'd ever seen. She can take my soul any day.
He was terrible, and Hera knew it.
Nearly the entire pantheon at this point was his illegitimate scum. Because of this, she would be forced to stare at her husband's infidelities daily as they whispered about how cruel she was behind her back, as though her bitterness was her fault.
It wasn't over, either. Zeus never kept his promises of loyalty, and more and more children continued to flood Olympus. Hera had to keep her mouth shut about it, at least in public, but jealousy dragged its rotten talons over her heart whenever they were near.
Sometimes, she would depart from Olympus, taking a few days to herself to pretend to be a mortal woman, living a simple life and checking on mortal affairs of her worshippers. But she didn't want the presence of people at the moment, unless they were providing her some sort of service.
She did, however, vent her frustrations to Persephone. The two had become rather close after her marriage to Hades, as the queens had needed to communicate often. Persephone, too, was illegitimate, but now that she was royalty, they were on equal footing, and the thought didn't occur to Hera often. She was nothing like her father, after all.
"The Underworld has great services," Persephone suggested, idly adding some golden roses to the Garden of Hesperides with a wave of her hand. "I could take you down to my home and set you up for something relaxing."
Hera shrugged a shoulder and sat on one of the benches in her garden. The Garden of Hesperides was beautiful, as was her dragon protector, despite the Garden itself was in disarray. The golden-laden garden was a wedding gift to her, the Goddess of Marriage, who had the most unhealthy marriage in the known universe. The Garden mirrored the state of her relationship, too; the golden fruits and plants wilting as her unease with Zeus' affairs grew worse. But even dead golden plants and crumbling benches were more beautiful than none.
Persephone visited and tried her best to heal the Garden, as the Goddess of Spring, but even her efforts wouldn't cease the wilting. Not even another goddess could fix her broken marriage.
"It wouldn't fix anything," Hera grumbled. "I'd feel nice for a few minutes, but I'd have to return to my regular life afterward."
Persephone gave the Tree of Hesperides a hug, and the apple blossoms bloomed in gold. "You could just leave him."
"Yes, the Goddess of Marriage could get a divorce," she snarked. "How would that look?"
"It'd set a good example for the women in the Mortal World, standing their ground and doing what makes them happy."
Hera groaned and laid on her bench. "I'd have to give up my crown. My family would fall apart, taking sides. I don't want to see another war on Olympus. And I'd be reduced to nothing but some obscure marriage goddess."
"Is that so bad, though? Maybe you wouldn't be so stressed." Persephone turned to her and smiled. She was always so cheerful. "Besides, I'd still be your friend."
Hera quirked an eyebrow. "It's easy for you to say. Your husband loves you."
She shifted on her feet. She was always barefoot when she was in the Gardens. "Yeah, he does. He really does. And you deserve that kind of love, too. But...while you think, maybe you could feel something like love?"
"What do you mean?"
"You could love yourself. Treat yourself to something nice."
Hera stretched and stood. "I can't refuse you, can I."
It wasn't a question. She already knew the answer.
"Nope!" Persephone took her hand. "You've got plenty of gold, right?"
Hera gestured to her Gardens. "Gee, I'm not sure, Persephone."
She giggled. "You're always so funny, Hera! Let's go."
Hera's stomach lurched as Persephone transported her to the Underworld. She always hated the feeling of falling, ever since…
She shook the thought out of her head. Persephone was trying to be helpful. She might as well offer her a chance.
Normally, when she came with Persephone to the Underworld, they transported past the Styx and directly into Persephone's palace, but this time, they stood on the riverbank.
"Why are we among the dead?" Hera asked, fighting bile in her throat. She put a hand to her chest, as though it would force the nausea away.
"I'm taking you to see Charon," Persephone said with a smile and a squeeze of her hand.
"Charon?" Hera held onto Persephone's arm. "The old man who ferries the dead?"
Her eyes sparkled. "Don't underestimate her."
"Wait, her?"
Persephone tugged Hera's hand and winked.
As Hera assumed, a hunched-over, bearded man approached the riverbank, taking payment one by one from the mortals. When he looked over at them, his eyes glowed.
"I'm certain that's not a woman," Hera muttered.
"Hi, Charon!" Persephone exclaimed, stepping onto the boat. "You still do your services, right?"
Hera blanched. "Services?"
Persephone grinned. "Yes. She offers full-body services, great for relaxing and forgetting all your stress!"
Hera quirked an eyebrow. "Full-body services."
A low chuckle emitted from Charon. "You know me! I'll do anything for a good payout. You brought the Queen of the Heavens for a treatment?" One of his glowing eyes winked.
"Of course I did. Do you mind taking her after you deposit the Shades?"
"Sure thing." Charon's face was still barely visible, but Hera saw a glittering grin beneath the beard. "C'mon, Lady Hera. I'll show you a real good time."
Hera swallowed. She wasn't sure if she wanted to have whatever this "service" was anymore.
"Trust me!" Persephone beamed, stepping off the boat. "You'll love this."
Hera flashed her a look. "I'm putting so much faith in you right now…"
Once the Shades were all situated, Charon took her down the Styx. It was nowhere as dizzying as falling into the Underworld with Persephone was. In fact, it was rather slow, which gave them ample time to talk over the murmurs of the recently deceased.
"What sort of services is Persephone referring to?" Hera asked finally.
Charon chuckled. She noticed that Charon's voice was beginning to take a feminine lilt, the beard disappearing. "I'll offer any service for the right price. Mostly massages, if you get the idea."
Hera did not get the idea, but was too proud to say so. "I see."
"So. You're in the need of some TLC, huh?" Charon removes one hand from an oar and strokes Hera's arm.
Hera instinctively stiffens. No one touches her except for Zeus, on the rare occasions he remembers he has a wife. Or Persephone, but those are innocent touches, as Hera sees Persephone as little more than a child. There was something…behind this touch that made her shiver.
Slowly, it began to click in her mind. "When you say massages," she began, "you don't mean…" She couldn't bring herself to finish her sentence.
Charon ignored her at first, helping the Shades depart the boat. Once the deceased were out of sight, Charon removed her hood, revealing…a woman.
Hera's heart stopped. Her mouth went dry. And she hated every fiber of her being for it.
Charon was…stunning. She has heard stories from Hermes and Persephone of psychopomps being aesthetically alluring, but she had never seen one up close—and her brother, Hades, didn't count, as he didn't take any lives himself.
"We must be beautiful," Hermes told her once, "so the dead are willing to come with us. I already have my good looks from my father—" This earned a groan from Hera, but Hermes prattled on, "but you should see how gorgeous real chthonic deities are!"
And now, she saw. Her skin was dark, darker than she had ever seen. She had no hair on her head, which would look odd on any other woman, but on her, it would be strange to have hair. Her arms, now bare, were muscular—a weak spot for Hera, who loved the look of strength—for all the rowing up and down the Styx. Her eyes sparkled with a warm, dark goodness, like a molten chocolate, that made her feel as though she's being electrocuted—not an entirely unfamiliar sensation, but not a welcome one, either. The feeling made her think of Zeus, which made her angrier.
Despite her husband, Hera was a loyal wife. She never cheated, not even with her maidservants (though she has been tempted in fits of anger). She was the goddess of marriage. The goddess of marriage would never have an affair even on the scummiest, most annoyingly seductive of men.
But Charon threw all her morals out the window, especially when she smiled.
Hera could feel her cheeks heat up, and with Charon's chuckle, she knew she knew it, too.
"Well, come on, then!" Charon exclaimed, linking arms with Hera. It felt different than when Persephone did it, but perhaps Hera's conflicting emotions just made her more sensitive.
It especially didn't help with Charon dropped her arm to the small of Hera's back. She wanted to snuggle closer to this mysterious, powerful woman, but held herself back.
Charon opened the door to Hades' palace for her—not the main entrance, but a side door Hera had only seen once when delivering a gift for Hades' birthday once. "It's closer to my quarters," Charon clarified, though Hera didn't ask, "and Hades won't bother us about why I'm bringing you in here."
That hadn't occurred to Hera. Hera didn't come down here often, and seeing her this close with Charon would definitely turn some heads. She didn't want to deal with that at the moment, as she could barely deal with her own opinions on the matter.
"So," Hera said, deciding to make some small talk, "why do you choose to look…the way you did?"
"What, like this?" Immediately, Charon's form changed to a hunched-over man with a beard. "It's what the dead expect. Why disappoint them?" She morphed back instantly, laughing at the look on Hera's face.
"I think they'd be more pleasantly surprised at the truth," Hera said. Then she flushed, realizing what she said.
"Oh?" Charon wiggled her eyebrows. "I thought you liked what you saw."
Hera averted her eyes. "I shouldn't. I'm married."
"Psh, aren't all of you? Your husband has quite the track record." Charon's hand wandered lower, and Hera exhaled, feeling the sweetness between her legs pool.
"Y-yes," Hera managed, "but I'm the goddess of marriage. I have a reputation."
"Sure, but sweet cheeks? Your reputation ain't too good as it is. So far, it's trying to strangle babies in cribs and hunting down poor women. What you need—" Charon paused at the door they had arrived at, dropping her hands to hold Hera's, "Is to take care of yourself and your anger. When was the last time you've slept with anyone?"
Hera paused. She had no idea. Zeus and herself didn't even share a bedroom ordinarily.
"Exactly. That's bound to cause some frustration and anger. And that's where my…massage services—" She paused to wiggle her eyebrows and give her a knowing smirk, "come in. I take care of poor wronged housewives like you, show you a good time, and you'll feel better and less stressed."
"But my husband—"
Charon stepped closer. "Fuck your husband. Figuratively. Because you don't, but some other woman will."
Hera wasn't sure what came over her then. Feeling Charon's calloused hands in hers, their breasts in such close proximity that she could feel the other woman nipping over her own, and her snide comments all ignited a fire within her. Ordinarily, when she felt this way, she'd slap whoever spoke to her in such a way.
But instead, she brought their lips together.
A/N: There's part one for you! This will be a three-part story.
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