Quietus

by Seraphina Scribes

When first he laid eyes upon her, he thought her the very personification of spring. He watches, from the depths of shadow; waiting to steal her away from the land of the living. Waiting to make her Queen of the Dead. Hades/Persephone retold. SasuSaku/AU.

41. Chapter 40

Thanks for the feedback last chapter, everyone. This interlude chapter is Hades/Kore flashback heavy and the majority of it takes place in the past. Please visit my profile page and make sure you listen to the track at the indicated point as it helps to build the mood of the scenes between the two.

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Chapter XL

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There they swayed, under hush of night,

Beneath its clandestine cloak,

Their hearts burned bright,

And so Spring soared – as a kite,

That knew no bounds – nor wrong from right,

What hope had she, to heed or tell,

As Death's eyes wove their midnight-spell,

Enticing innocence to pleasure and sin,

Blinding her to the shadows,

Closing in.

---

"How delightful…" Orochimaru smiled sinisterly, eyeing up the latest additions to the fray.

Stationing himself protectively before Kurenai, Shikamaru raised his hands, ready to summon chakra forth from his seal.

"Your breaking of the sssacred oath will have ssserious consssequencesss," the daemon hissed in warning.

"Sacred!" Ino shot back, checking for Asuma's pulse. She was relieved when a steady beat met her seeking fingertips. "Shut your hypocritical mouth, you ugly freak of nature!"

Orochimaru only seemed further amused by her insults, for he answered, "Far better isss it to be unsssightly, as you sssay, than to be powerlesss, young Aphrodite…"

Ino clenched her teeth, wishing that she possessed even a tiny fragment of her original abilities. She would have liked to break the disgusting abomination's heart into splinters.

"You're the one who attacked us, snake!" Kurenai braced herself for another round of battle.

"Had you not ssstolen the phial from usss, this would have been prevented," Orochimaru answered, in that same, maddening, reasonable voice.

Concealed from them by the Helm of Darkness, Sasuke's eyes narrowed as he watched the confrontation in silence.

"What is its significance?" Shikamaru enquired calmly. "Why are you so desperate to get it back?"

Ino watched with revulsion as the serpent licked his thin lips, as if relishing the answer he was about to give.

"For too long hasss thisss world indulged in its falssse ssstate of grandeur and sssecurity. We ssseek to remind humansss of their true desssign and purpossse… to worship usss… to ssserve."

Sasuke's eyes widened. He could hardly believe what he was hearing. He looked down at the container in his hand.

This… this held the power to rule? Was that Cronus's true aim, to trap mortals in a meaningless existence – to dictate their actions and the state of the world?

"What the hell does that mean?!" Ino demanded.

But Kurenai, who had caught on, shook her head in dismay. "You are even more out of your mind now than ever before. You cannot enslave humans. It goes against the reason they were created!"

"Cronus is commanding you, isn't he?" Shikamaru already knew the answer. "If that's the case, and he intends to break the pact, then you know we won't just stand by and watch."

"Kukukukuku!" Orochimaru crackled. "Your time amongssst the humansss hasss weakened you! Your power is nothing againssst usss!"

Kurenai tensed. "Shikamaru!" she gasped, as the blade-armed snakes reared back their hissing heads.

Immediately Shikamaru was responding, calling forward from the soles of his feet six dark, shadowy hands that instantly wound around the incoming serpents, locking them in place. Kurenai drew back her bow, and sent three arrows whistling towards Orochimaru.

"Not quick enough," the daemon grinned, shedding the snakes effortlessly, allowing himself to move freely once again. He evaded the arrows, and with four rapid hand seals, opened his mouth, extending his jaws to an impossible width.

Ino felt that she was on the verge of being sick. She watched, horrified, as a snake slithered out of Orochimaru's mouth, and opened its own in turn, protruding another pointed sword.

"DIE!" Orochimaru screamed, and hurtled forward, his movements slithering and blindingly fast.

"Look out-!" Ino jumped to her feet, screaming in terror. There was no way, at their compromised levels of power that either of them could defend in time!

From where Sasuke stood, he could see it clearly, too. They did not stand a chance – but he did not interfere.

A flash of motion flew in front of Kurenai and Shikamaru at the final moment, repelling Orochimaru's attack with vicious force. The daemon was force back – and smiled wickedly when his eyes fell on the individual who now stood before him.

"Jiraiyaaaa…" he said, with visible delight.

Jiraiya's hands were glowing with red chakra energy.

"What do you say to me ripping out that damned tongue of yours, once and for all?" the elder deity suggested cheerfully.

Orochimaru smirked – but retracted his sword. Ino gaped, appalled, as the blade disappeared back down the snake's throat – which in turn was swallowed up by Orochimaru.

"Ugh!" she screeched. "That is so gross!"

"What's the matter, serpent?" Kurenai raised her bow at him.

"Backing down?" Shikamaru lifted his arms, signalling that he was ready to go again.

"He always has been afraid of me," Jiraiya boasted.

The daemon sneered at them. Although he was sorely tempted to take them all on, starting with the irritating whelp of a blonde stationed beside Asuma, he knew that Jiraiya's arrival turned the dynamics of the encounter considerably.

"You cannot stop it," he said calmly. "You cannot deny it. Other forces are at play here. We will have our vengeance-"

"Stop him!" Kurenai exclaimed, firing another arrow from her bow. This one impaled through Orochimaru's right hand – but within a matter of seconds, his body had altered in form, turning into a white snake that oozed into the ground, even as Jiraiya lunged forward to prevent him from escaping.

"Damned bastard," he stomped on the position Orochimaru had disappeared through. Turning back to the others, he observed the car wreckage, and exclaimed, "What in Zeus's blasted name happened here?"

Shikamaru, recalling his chakra within the seal, remarked simply, "Cronus."

"That monster," Ino whispered. "I can't believe, after all this time, he's moving again…"

As Kurenai anxiously turned back to Asuma, Sasuke noiselessly took his leave, disturbed by the words the serpent had uttered. At that moment, he had absolutely no intention of letting the phial out of his sight.

---

"Mother! Please, wait! Mother!"

Kore rushed to catch up to Demeter's procession of twelve wood nymphs, standing at the foot of the majestic temple's stone steps. They were clad in long, emerald, gauzy gowns, with sashes of gold tied about their slender waists. Crowned atop each achingly lovely nature spirit's head were rings of purple, red and yellow blossoms.

Her mother turned to her, looking resplendent in an earthy, full-length robe, tied at the waist with a pleated belt of solid gold. A light shawl was draped over her shoulders. In her hand was a ribbon adorned straw basket, laden with the early autumn season's finest offerings. Her long golden hair was twisted in a braid, laced with leaves and crimson berries.

Kore's heart skipped with a mixture of uncertainty and excitement as her mother's surprised honey eyes travelled slowly from her head to her feet – before trailing back up again. She shyly twirled for inspection. It had taken a lot of convincing from Aphrodite to summon up the courage to slip into her chosen attire, and Kore wasn't exactly sure how her mother would respond. After all, she had never worn a gown that rode above knee length before.

It was a paler green than the ones that clothed the nymphs. At her waist, Kore wore an arrangement of pink and purple flowers, laced together with delicate chains of gold. A matching cluster had been expertly woven through the crown of braids pinned atop her head. The remainder of her gently waving, waist-length hair tumbled unbound about her shoulders. The hem of the short skirt was also lined with gold, and a lighter, semi-transparent overskirt trailed back to her sandal-clad feet. It was parted at the front, exposing her shapely, lightly tanned legs.

Demeter, who had been struggling to contain a neutral expression before her daughter's glowing beauty – for all sorts of terrible thoughts had spiralled through her head at the sight of her child so temptingly dressed - tilted her face questioningly.

"Kore," she began carefully. "I see you have spun a new gown."

"Oh, no, not I," Kore answered. "It was the wood nymphs." She gave another whirl. "Do you like it, mother?" she questioned anxiously.

"It… is somewhat short," Demeter remarked, lifting an eyebrow meaningfully.

Kore blinked at her. "But Aphrodite says it is perfectly acceptable-"

"Aphrodite," the Goddess of Harvest scoffed shortly, "considers it acceptable to walk around unclothed."

Kore's eyes widened with horror. "Oh, no, mother! That is a fib all those who envy her tell. She assured me herself!"

"Then her enemies are many indeed," Demeter muttered underneath her breath.

She had never understood the unlikely bond her daughter and the Goddess of Love shared – and did not try to conceal the fact that she thoroughly disapproved of it. Aphrodite's near-scandalous reputation for mischief and flippantly toying with the emotions of mortals and deities alike preceded her; she was a bad influence and role model. But Kore, who delighted in her company, seemed to genuinely adore her like an elder sister, so the harvest deity reluctantly indulged her child and allowed her to spend time in Aphrodite's presence. The flirtatious goddess had sworn to keep Kore safely hidden away from prying, lecherous eyes and they always met within the boundaries of Demeter's fields.

Kore was going on vehemently. "Aphrodite would never-"

Demeter waved her free hand. "Fret not of her, my child. The dress suits you well enough."

"Really?" Kore beamed, forgetting all about her best friend as she basked in her mother's unexpected compliment. "Truly, you think so?"

"Yes," Demeter looked her over again. She reached out and placed her palm to her daughter's flushed cheek. "You are beautiful indeed, my little flower."

Kore's eyes twinkled with delight. "Then you approve of me wearing it to the Festival?" she went on eagerly.

Demeter blinked. Being sure to show her daughter that nothing was amiss, she stroked Kore's cheek softly.

"The Festival," she repeated lightly.

"Yes," Kore nodded at her. "You promised me last year that you would permit me to attend my first Equinox today, remember?"

"Ah…" Demeter did recall doing so – but she had done it in desperation at the time. Now she faced the same predicament. The reality was that unlike the Spring Festival, which was held in Kore's honour each year, and was celebrated by surface gods alone, the Autumn Equinox was open to deities who dwelt beneath the surface of the world, too.

It was a celebration of balance between light and dark. And those of the formidable Clan who lived deep under the ground, led by the arrogant Cronus himself, always ventured to the surface to uphold the supposed 'good will' between the two Kingdoms.

Kore detected the indecision on her mother's face and pulled away from her touch, frowning.

"You promised me..."

"Listen to me, my child-" Demeter began.

Kore's heart sunk. She knew that tone. She had heard those words countless times before – words that heralded the next excuse her mother was going to feed to her about why she could not attend that year. Frustration bubbled inside her chest. She had spent hours getting ready – and now her mother was telling her that once more, she was to remain behind?

No. She could not stand it. This time, she told herself, she would not back down – even if it risked breaching her mother's fearsome temper.

"I have come of age, mother," Kore struggled to remain calm. Her arguments with the Goddess of the Harvest were few and far between – but she could already feel herself losing her composure. "Everybody will be there, and I'll be safe with you -"

Demeter glanced back at the waiting nymphs. "Go ahead," she instructed to them. "Await me beyond the forest."

Gracefully they curtsied and dutifully left them in privacy.

Kore could feel her eyes prickling with tears. Her little fingers curled into angry fists. Her mother had told them to wait for her – not for them.

"I do not understand," the Spring Goddess whispered. "I do not understand why you will not allow me to accompany you, why I am always to stay within the bounds of your fields or hidden within our temples." She swallowed thickly, at a loss over what to think. "Are you ashamed of me, mother? Is that why you hide me away…?"

Demeter's eyes widened and Kore could see that she had struck a nerve.

"No!" Her mother reached out to her in dismay. "No, my child, I could not be any prouder."

But Kore turned her face away from Demeter's extended fingers. The stinging behind her eyes was growing increasingly persistent.

Her mother sighed and set her basket down.

"Daughter," she took a seat at the temple's bottom step and gestured for her child to join her. Kore perched down stiffly. Her mother shook her head and sighed again.

"You know that you are precious to me, and I wish only to shelter you. The world is a harsh, dangerous place, and there are many out there who would seek to use and hurt you-"

Kore's head whipped around and Demeter saw in her child's eyes a feistiness that had been growing steadily over the previous years. It was undeniable – her little girl had bloomed into a lovely young goddess and her personality was changing – along with the development of her abilities.

Demeter felt a twinge of sadness. In the past, she had never been questioned. Kore was her daughter, and she had expected her to inherit her temper eventually – however, she had hoped to hold onto the adoring, eager-to-please child a little longer.

"All the other goddesses my age attend and no harm ever befalls them. I have your protection and Lord Zeus's. Apollo will be there too – all my friends are going. I shall stay with them at all times. Please, mother!" she took her mother's hands imploringly. "Nothing is going to happen to me!"

To her rising distress, her mother looked unhappy and unconvinced.

"The Equinox is not like the Spring Festival," Demeter explained. "There will be other deities in attendance, as well."

"Why does that matter?" Kore demanded, releasing her hands again to fold her arms crossly. "You did not allow me to attend the Spring Festival this year, either! Every year you promise you will reconsider, and every year you change your mind!"

Demeter stood up, her temper flaring. "I do it to protect you!"

Kore sprung to her feet, too. "From what?" she cried. "What is it you fear, mother?! If you would but tell me, maybe then I could understand-!"

Her mother paced in agitation. She had been pushed into a corner, and knew nothing but the truth would subdue her child this time. She ground her teeth, displeased. The girl had grown far too headstrong for her own good – something she blamed in part to Aphrodite's impertinent influence.

"Do you truly wish to know why I keep you sheltered?" she retorted irately. "The nature of your gifts, if they fall into the wrong hands, would damage this earth!"

Kore's inhaled sharply. With wide eyes, she stared at her mother.

"What do you mean?" she finally murmured.

Demeter pursed her lips. "You have the gift of life and light. There are those who oppose it, who would wish for a world reigned by darkness and decay. One of these individuals will be present at the Festival, today."

Kore searched her face for any traces of mistruths. There were none. Her mother suddenly looked weary – as if she were carrying a terrible burden.

"I don't understand…" Kore shook her head. "How could anyone wish such an awful thing…?"

Unbidden, she fleetingly thought of Hades. She had glimpsed his power – the polar opposite of her own. Her heart began to pound and she suddenly felt sick to her stomach. Surely her mother couldn't mean him. But she could not dispel the irrational knot of dread that had formed in her gut at Demeter's words.

In a fearful whisper, she probed, "Who is it…?"

"I will tell you in time," Demeter reached out and took her daughter's hands once more. "But I cannot this night."

She saw her child's eyes glaze over, the way they always did whenever she was upset, and something tugged deep at her heart. Demeter dismissed it and indignantly crushed down the nagging guilt. It was for the best, she justified fiercely. Kore was still so naïve and she did not understand the depth of her love – just how much she worried for her safety.

Kore knew those words. Not this night meant that she would never know and no amount of arguing or pleading would change her mother's mind. Once Demeter made a decision, she was immovable.

Despair overcame her. It was hopeless. She would be overprotected forever. Each year, she was denied. Each time, her mother mollified her with false promises. As a child, she had always trusted blindingly in her mother's judgement, but Kore was no longer an infant goddess. She was on the very cusp of womanhood – and she was curious about the world. She wanted to venture beyond the expanse of her mother's watchful borders. How she longed for more, to find her own place in the cycle of existence!

Earlier in the year, she had snuck into the Spring Festival with Aphrodite. Resorting to such underhanded measures went against her nature entirely, and she still harboured a crushing sense of guilt over her long-kept secret, despite Aphrodite's insistence that no harm had been done. Going behind her mother's back had been utterly despicable. But it had been the most memorable and wonderful night of her life. The colours and sights and sounds! The hypnotic music, delicious scents and joyful festivities…

And of course, it had been the night where she'd first set eyes on him. The one she had glimpsed on numerous occasions in Apollo's presence – and a few alone – the one she had not been able to banish from her thoughts, many months onwards.

She thought he would surely be there tonight. After all, she had heard herself that Hades was of the Underworld dwellers.

Swallowing down her disappointment was difficult. Once more, her mother was keeping her in the dark. Once again, she would spend a night of merriment isolated from the other Olympians.

She scarcely felt Demeter's lips brush tenderly against her forehead. Squeezing her hands, the Goddess of Harvest vowed, "Next year, I shall bring the Spring Festival to your temple. You have my word, Kore. Believe me when I tell you that all I do, I do for your safety. Now rest tonight. Stay inside the temple grounds with Arenee and Rheas. I will be back shortly after I fulfil my ceremonial duties."

"Yes, mother," Kore managed dejectedly.

Her mother departed with one final lingering look. Kore remained in place, watching until she disappeared beyond the verdant vale, her emotions swirling until they crested in her chest and exploded in a cascade of tears. She dropped to the stone step, sobbing.

Sure enough, the light pitter-patter of bare feet informed her of the arrival of her chaperone friends.

"Mistress!" the familiar voice of Rheas cried in distress. "Whatever ails you?"

"I am fine," Kore wept, wiping at her eyes – but the tears kept falling.

Arenee knelt down beside her, her long hair like a rippling river of silver around her.

"What has saddened you, my lady?" she asked.

"Nothing. It is nothing," Kore sniffled. "Do not worry for me."

Rheas curled an arm around her. "What can we do to banish those tears?"

"Perhaps we can sing for you, my lady?" Arenee's lovely face peered up at her anxiously. "Would that please you?"

"Not now," Kore shook her head. "Please," she added shakily. "Return to the temple. I wish to be left in peace."

"But Mistress…" Rheas exchanged an uncertain look with the other nymph.

"We cannot possibly leave you so distressed," Arenee stated, stroking her bare arm comfortingly.

"I will be fine," Kore insisted. "I just want to sit here for a little on my own." Waving, she ushered them off. "I will join you shortly."

When they continued to stare at her, she prompted, "Please."

Arenee bit her lower lip. "If that is your wish…"

"Yes."

"You will call us if you have need?" Rheas touched her shoulder.

"Of course. Thank you," Kore mustered a watery smile.

Dutifully, albeit with great reluctance, the nymphs returned to the temple's inner grounds. No sooner had they gone back inside, Kore burst into a fresh round of quiet tears, covering her face despondently with the palms of her hands. She did not know for how long she remained there, crying miserably beside the flickering torches heralding the long steps that climbed up to Demeter's majestic temple. She only knew how wretched she felt.

Why couldn't her mother understand? Why didn't she see that she had grown up, and was capable of looking after herself? What had she meant by her powers falling into the wrong hands? She would never allow anybody else to use them! Did her mother really have such little faith in her?

The terrible, damning thought made her sob harder. Her body heaved with the effort to keep her weeping silent, so as not to alarm her faithful chaperones again.

"So this is where you hide away," a sensuous drawl - as smooth as black velvet - reached her ears.

Kore stifled a gasp as her head snapped up in alarm. Immediately, her heart leapt violently into her throat.

She knew that voice. She told herself she surely had to be dreaming – especially when her frantic eyes did not initially spy him in the night. But then he melted out of the shadows, as if he were fashioned from them, and Kore's lips parted in open shock.

Hades steadily regarded her with eyes that glittered like smoky diamonds. He was clothed entirely in black, from head to sandal-clad feet. A flowing cloak was clasped at his left shoulder, pinned with a gold emblem clasp bearing his family's crest. He folded his smoothly muscled arms, which were adorned with burnt golden vambraces up to the elbows, and leant back nonchalantly against the trunk of the nearest tree.

The way he tilted his head at her was utterly condescending.

"You really are a child," he taunted, one corner of his lips curling up to form a disdainful sneer. "Hn." Closing his eyes briefly, he quipped, "Pathetic."

Kore rubbed hastily at her tear strewn cheeks. Seeing him was like a shock to her senses – like someone had thrown an icy pail of water all over her. Her entire body was immediately reacting to his proximity – not that he seemed to notice or care. She wondered whether Hades was even aware of the crackling, disquieting aura he exuded.

Why wasn't he at the Equinox? She had not seen him for months – three and a fortnight to be precise, her pitiful mind helpfully reminded her, for it had deplorably tracked the days - and his coming was thoroughly unexpected. He had never purposefully sought her out alone before. The realisation that he had traversed all the way to her mother's temple caused Kore's heart to flutter more fretfully within her.

Quickly, she rose to her feet. "What are you doing here?" she demanded. Glancing nervously back over her shoulder toward the top of the stairs, she added, "If anybody sees you-"

Hades looked thoroughly unalarmed. In fact, to Kore's astonishment, his expression verged on one of absolute boredom.

"I had no trouble evading your mother's sentries," he remarked pointedly. Narrowing his eyes at her, he went on, "You only see me now because I permit it, goddess."

Kore gawped at him. So it was true? He really had snuck into Demeter's lands just to see her?

She could scarcely believe it. And she was quite thrown by the butterflies that had seemingly broken free from the cage within her belly.

She shook her head at him in bewilderment. "Why are you here?"

The handsome young god blinked at her, before deadpanning, "I have a task for you."

Kore stared at him. He stared insolently back – as if daring her to refuse him.

The silence yawned between them.

Finally, Kore fumbled, "You- what? A task? What task?"

He unfolded his arms and pushed fluidly away from the tree.

"Follow me," he instructed.

Kore floundered after him. He had travelled all that way – turned up completely out of the blue – and he expected her to willingly comply with him without question or suspicion? Irked by his arrogance, she placed her hands huffily on her hips. First her mother, now this swaggering peacock of a deity; she'd had quite enough of being dictated to for one night.

"And if I refuse?" she challenged.

Hades, unfazed by her words, lifted one shoulder as if to shrug. He did not bother to turn back to her, and continued to stroll leisurely away from the temple.

"Then stay and weep," he uttered curtly, making it transparent that he did not care enough to insist upon her compliance.

She frowned. It was not quite the response she had sought. Throwing a cautious glance up toward the temple's mighty entrance columns again, Kore hesitated despite herself. When she looked to Hades once more, he had walked further away.

"Wait!" she whispered loudly after him.

"I wait for no-one," Hades threw back high-handedly.

Kore fumed internally for a moment – then impulsively darted after him, praying to the heavens that the nymphs had not noticed her speaking to what they would perceive to be a complete – and surely menacing - stranger.

"You came all this way to ask me for a favour?" she clarified dubiously.

He did halt at that – and so did she, stopping just short behind him. Casting an icy glare down at her, Hades retorted indignantly, "I do not recall saying the word 'favour'."

"But why are you not at the Equinox? Will your family not expect you?"

Hades bypassed the question about his relatives. "I have no interest in surface festivals," he answered flatly. As an afterthought, he added, his eyes trailing slowly over her – and her chosen outfit - for the first time, "They bore me."

Kore found herself affronted by his opinion. It was not fair - Hades had willingly shunned the celebration – when she herself longed to attend!

"I suppose you think your festivities superior?" she folded her arms.

"Festivals," he retorted with derision, "are a waste of time."

Kore frowned again. She thought to herself that she had surely never met anybody who made her scowl so much.

"I consider grumpiness far greater a waste," she remarked subtly.

One corner of his lips twitched at that – but he chose to respond from another angle, singling out the real reason behind the unhappiness he had perceived in her.

"Left behind again, goddess?" His eyes glowed like burning, charcoal embers in the darkness.

She stiffened as he breached sensitive territory.

"I –" she shook her head, horrified to find herself speechless. Something about the way Hades looked at her – and the words he said – always succeeded in making her feel like she was coming undone.

It was utterly unnerving – the peculiar influence he held over her.

"Why not follow after your mother?" he was going on.

Kore bit her lower lip, wondering how much of the interaction he had overheard. "I'm-" she tried again.

"A child?" he mocked once more.

She was determined not to allow him to pull her into his mind games again. Her gaze flashing with anger, she stepped away from him.

"You had better leave," she said. "Or I could always make you go, again," she added a deliberate edge to her voice, reminding him of the last time she had succeeded in evading him.

She expected him to respond with irritation – for she knew he had not liked the fact that he'd been outdone, and by a goddess, no less. She had no idea of knowing, however, that her words had only prospered in piquing the deity's interest further.

"You would not win again," he stated self-assuredly.

She met his gaze for a lingering moment – before taking another step back.

"Goodnight," she said shortly. Then, mustering her pride, she turned away from him and began to walk back toward the steps.

Hades watched her, his eyes narrowing. He certainly was not used to being dismissed so readily.

"Kore."

Her murmured name sent an inexplicable shudder along her spine. Instantly she slowed, hating herself for it, but how could it be helped? Her name sounded like pure seduction falling from his lips. She wondered how anybody could make it sound so dreadfully alluring.

"You said we had unfinished business." Kore had no idea why she suddenly felt so breathless. She did not dare to turn and look at him again – even as she sensed him prowling soundlessly towards her. "You cannot expect me to trust you."

"I will return you here unharmed." Hades said. As her resolve wavered, he finalised, "You have my word."

His word was one that Apollo clearly valued. Kore's eyes went back to the safety of the temple, as she found herself wrestling with two choices.

The sensible, obedient part of her pleadingly whispered that Hades was nothing but trouble, and going anywhere alone with him, in the middle of the night, would be foolish – a mistake she would surely come to regret.

But it was drowned out by the more vocal part of her that yearned for adventure – that had always been secretly hoping and longing for his coming – the thrilled part that screamed at her that she would regret it even more if she turned him away by choosing to remain behind.

"My mother…" she trailed off. In reality, her mind had already been made.

When Hades spoke next, his voice was right behind her.

"You will return before she does."

"…" Kore told herself she was mad. The behaviour she was about to engage in was thoroughly improper, and she knew even Aphrodite would be stunned by her unexpected boldness. But she hungered for excitement – and Hades was offering it to her freely.

Something about him had always sent her mind awry and straying from the straight path of goodness she was so accustomed to treading. Maybe it was the wild, untameable, rebellious nature he emitted, or the sense of danger and intrigue that drew her in and held her fast. She had no idea what his secretive task involved, but he was a good friend of Apollo's, and though a part of her was still fearfully uncertain of his nature, her instinct reassured her that he would not harm her that night.

She turned to look at him sceptically.

"You promise me that we will remain unseen?"

Hades smirked smugly at her unspoken consent. Reaching out to grasp her right wrist in a light hold, he murmured in response, as he reeled her close to him, "Like shadows."

That was all he said – when the world blurred in a rush of wind. When she blinked again, Kore found herself standing in a dense forest – next to Hades's midnight, gold adorned chariot.

His steeds exhaled smoke at the sight of her. Kore tried not to listen to the whispers of doubt that were beseeching her to back out of her ill-made, reckless decision before it was too late. If she changed her mind now, her mother would never know…

Something dark and soft was flung at her. Kore blinked and glanced down at the bundle in her hands to find that Hades had tossed a long, hooded cloak to her.

"Put that on," he said. When she pulled a distasteful face, he elaborated with some exasperation, "Your hair is bright enough to be spotted from Olympus. This will keep you hidden in the dark."

Kore raised her fingers self-consciously to her head. Hades did not like her hair…? He had already stepped onto his chariot, however, turning chivalrously away to allow her to slip the garment on. As she secured it and raised the hood to cover her tresses, she found it to be a little loose-fitting.

"Where are we going?" she pushed the hood back when it kept falling over her eyes. Then she stumbled awkwardly over its trailing hem. "Ouch! I cannot see where I am treading!" she informed him unhappily.

Hades flashed a wicked grin as he guided her onto the chariot and stepped behind her to take hold of the reins. "That," he said emphatically, as his arms came up to enclose her in place, "is the point."

Kore told herself that it was far too late for her to turn back now with his arms caging her in position at the front of the chariot– and yelped when his horses bolted abruptly forward without warning, at a pace that almost sent her hood flying back off her head again. Kore screeched and pressed it down in place, her other hand gripping tightly onto the front of the cart for dear life.

As Hades expertly steered, Kore found herself breathless in the wake of the sheer speed at which they were travelling. She had always considered Apollo to be the fastest chariot rider as he blazed gloriously across the dawn sky each morning – but realised just how mistaken she had been. Hades hurtled his mounts at a pace that was even more blinding and unnatural - yet utterly exhilarating.

She was certain that no other deity could match him.

The raven-haired god seemed to read her train of thought – for when he spoke in her ear above the pounding of hooves and grinding of wheels, his words were laced with great pride and conceit.

"Swifter than the Sun, goddess?"

Kore's answer was knocked out of her lungs as he veered the chariot left, causing her to slam against the steely barrier of his left arm, which held her fast. But instead of being frightened as she had initially been, Kore found herself enjoying the whirlwind ride – even though her eyes were watering and her face was stinging as the howling air blasted against her skin. Soon she began to laugh with delight each time the chariot lurched unexpectedly to the side or dipped over an unseen plunge in the ground. Each time Hades's arms unfailingly caught her, and each time her heart leapt from the contact of being pressed so familiarly against him.

This… this was what she had always craved, she told herself, closing her eyes and grinning as they descended down another slope, a plunge that tickled her belly. To be swept away by a handsome deity, and flown off on a fabulous escapade where not even the wind could keep up with them.

"Faster!" she urged, and squealed as Hades willingly complied. They were going so quickly, she could hardly feel the ground at all anymore beneath them. The stars and the silhouettes of shapes in the still blackness around them blended into rushing, unidentifiable streams. They passed over shallow rivers, over hills and through woods and forests, stealing into the night like the shadows Hades had vowed they would become.

Kore was too preoccupied to notice when the terrain around them progressively began to shift, until they were riding lower and lower, and when they eventually delved underground into a rocky cavern, she thought nothing of it. She had no idea that Hades was taking a short-cut to the Underworld, an undisclosed route that was unknown to all except members of his Clan. Through the infringing mist they rode, along stretching, magnificent bridges carved of black marble.

The chariot gradually began to slow down, until it finally rolled to a smooth stop. Kore, winded but enthralled, hung onto the front for a long moment, willing her breathing to steady once more.

"That was incredible," she gushed. "Your horses – why, they are even swifter than Apollo's!"

Hades snorted at this – and so did his steeds. Of course his mounts were far superior. There was a reason why he frequently won their races, after all.

He was nevertheless pleased to hear Kore openly acknowledge it.

As he stepped off the chariot, the young goddess pushed her hood back, away from her eyes – and gasped in alarm to find herself in a world of darkness. They had come to a stop before an opening in a cave, flanked by two twin torches bearing icy-blue flames.

She turned, trying to seek out a sky – some other form of night.

"Where are we?" her voice wobbled, and for the first time, she felt a ripple of apprehension. Her voice echoed chillingly around them as she attempted to make out anything else in their surroundings. But there was nothing except shadows around them.

"In the Underworld," Hades replied casually. Stepping off the chariot, he gestured for her to follow him.

But Kore stubbornly refused, hugging the cloak more tightly around her body in a futile attempt to ward of the coolness of the air.

"You bought me to the Underworld!?" she exclaimed. Her heart had started to pound to a decidedly more unpleasant rhythm. To think that she was in the very same, fearsome place she had heard so many terrible accounts about! The Land of the Dead! The shadowy Kingdom without light or life! What would her mother say if she were to discover the mischief Kore had allowed herself to partake in, she wondered, overwhelmed by panic. What would her mother do?

"Please return me home immediately!" Kore shuddered. "I do not want to be in this forsaken place! They told me there are goblins and blood-sucking monsters, here!"

Hades raised a dark, sardonic eyebrow at her. "Do not heed everything you hear on the surface, goddess," he said matter-of-factly. "There are no goblins here, and you have hardly any meat on you to tempt our blood-sucking monsters."

Kore's mouth hung unceremoniously. Had… had Hades just insulted her physical form by implying she was too thin?

He lifted one of the torches, brandishing it before him like a glorious fire-brand. "Follow me," he directed, walking to the opening in the cave. "The sooner we are done, the sooner we can leave."

"But if anybody sees me-" Kore began.

Hades, who had made sure and triple-checked that every other Clan member had attended the Equinox, reassured her.

"No-one else is here."

She scrambled after him, for although she did not wish to follow, she thought it far worse to remain in the chariot alone. Who knew what monstrosity might leap out at her in the darkness? Surely she would be killed in an instant if she chose to tarry away from Hades. Gulping, she shuffled after him through the low tunnel, genuinely confused when she saw the rock face around them shimmer as it reflected the torch's flaming light.

What kind of stone formed the walls? Kore yearned to know, but was far too afraid to touch anything. Aphrodite had warned her once that laying hands on anything in the Underworld would result in a crippling curse.

Eventually they reached the end of the passage and stepped out into an enclosed, circular garden that was so unexpectedly beautiful, it prompted Kore's hand to fly to the base of her throat in surprise. They had walked into an impeccably tended courtyard built of white stone. In the centre grew a slender, milky tree that sparkled with the sheer brilliance of diamonds. She gasped as her eyes fell upon litters of pretty flowers, the likes of which she had never spied on the surface. Each and every one of them was pristine white and surrounded by ethereal light.

Delicate butterflies flittered from bloom to bloom, and they too were unlike their surface counterparts. They seemed more vivid, somehow, their wings bright and luminous.

Kore's eyes turned upwards. The sky twinkled with stars, forming fancy constellations far above them. How could the Underworld possess a sky? The sound of tumbling water drew her attention to a crystal-clear waterfall falling from the rock-faces to her right and left. Blue fireflies danced in the air, bathing the garden in an even more otherworldly glow.

Hades, who had been watching her astounded reaction with satisfaction and great interest, snapped her out of her stunned gaping.

"Forsaken …?" he repeated her earlier description dryly, placing the torch safely in a nearby holder.

Kore's eyes darted to him and he could see the bewilderment in her irises - how she was struggling to reconcile what she was seeing with the lies she had been fed – lies that had sought to keep her ignorant, Hades was certain.

But why her, of all goddesses? He was determined to unravel the enigma of her, the depths of her abilities, and find out why it was Kore alone who was always so heavily concealed from the eyes of others.

"I do not understand…" she shook her head and looked around again. "They told me the Underworld was a place of death alone… how can such beauty exist here…? This is incredible."

She knelt down and reached out to a tentatively-budding blossom. Hades watched, his stony exterior giving nothing away of his internal fascination, as the flower leaned readily in to Kore's touch. It seemed to bask in the light she emanated – as did the entire garden. As her fingers gently stroked the unfurled petals, it seemed to tremble with freshly imbued energy – before bursting into joyous bloom. The goddess smiled, hearing the flower's sigh of appreciation – a sigh that was heard only by her. The sound confirmed that what she was experiencing was indeed real and not some beguiling illusion put in place by Hades.

Then she stood up and faced him. The garden was a natural wonder, and seeing it had quelled a great deal of her uncertainties. Whoever could have anticipated that the Underworld could house life, also? She pondered why she had been so mislead about the place – or perhaps the surface gods had created the stories out of fear. There was clearly much more to it than what she had been told – and she guessed, with a fresh flutter of excitement, surely much more to the young deity standing solemnly before her, too.

Clasping her hands before her, she asked, feeling much more at ease, "What is the task?"

Hades led her to the tree and knelt down, gesturing to a lone flower that grew beneath its shade. Unlike all the other blossoms in the garden, Kore could see that it had possessed colour once. A shade of blue or purple, she guessed. The flower had wilted in on itself and its stem's leaves were dry and withered.

She looked up, meeting Hades's gaze directly, finally understanding what it was he wanted her to do.

Still, she thought it strange, how he would choose Equinox night to seek her out with the sole aim of restoring a flower. Perhaps the flower was precious to him, she told herself, internally touched by the sweetness of the notion. Maybe Hades was more sensitive and considerate than he let on?

"Why is this one so important?" she enquired.

Her intrusiveness was rewarded with an irritated glower. She had no business in his personal affairs. Hades felt no need to tell her that the flower was his mother's personal favourite, and that she had been devastated when a sudden sickness had struck the bloom.

"Just fix it," he snapped.

She pursed her lips. Deciding not to ask any further questions about it – but making a promise to herself that she would discover the reason one day - she automatically reached out to restore the pitiful remains of the blossom – but hesitated as an idea suddenly occurred to her.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, when she drew her hand away again.

Kore tapped an index finger to her cheek. Hades frowned impatiently at her.

"This is a favour, after all," she began thoughtfully.

Hades continued to stare at her. In the privacy of his thoughts, however, he told himself that he did not like where her conversational opener was heading…

"That would mean that you would also owe me a favour in return," Kore pointed towards him. "In fact, because you have brought me to a place I am forbidden to enter, you owe me two." She held up the specified amount of fingers and wiggled them at him.

Hades shot her a disgusted look that verged on positively murderous. "My favours to you, goddess, are making sure you are unharmed here, and returning you to your home," he retorted.

Kore folded her arms pointedly at him. "Those are no favours. You promised to return me home unharmed yourself."

He seemed even more displeased. There was a brief falter in her daring mood as Kore realised she could not predict how Hades would choose to react. But she was undeterred. It was odd, just how spirited she was suddenly feeling. Away from the surface and its watching eyes, she felt as light and free as a feather. The months since their last encounter had been spent imagining what it would be like if she saw Hades again – what she would say and what he would do. Never once had Kore daydreamed about teasing him or cheekily bartering for errands in return.

However, she had not only surprised herself. She could see that she had caught Hades somewhat off-guard, also.

"What do you want?" he demanded, and Kore could see all too clearly that he was not a god who was accustomed to making concessions of any kind.

"You only have to agree," Kore could feel a grin pulling at the corners of her lips.

Hades blinked at her incredulously. She expected him to recklessly agree to two favours, when he had no clue what she would ask of him?

"Forget it," he sneered at her.

Kore sighed lightly. The entire garden seemed to sigh with her. Somewhat disconcerted by this – but determined not to let it register on his features - Hades glanced around – to find every flower in the courtyard drooping sadly.

"Very well," said the goddess softly. "I suppose you had better return me to the surface, then."

She moved, as if to rise. Lightning fast, Hades's hand shot out, clamping hold of her right wrist firmly.

"Wait," he hissed. Then he seemed to struggle internally with himself – before grinding out through clenched teeth reluctantly, "Fine."

"Two favours," Kore prompted, returning to her kneeling position. It did not matter to her at that moment that she did not know exactly what she even wanted in return.

His eyes formed furious slits at her. This was not quite what he'd envisaged when he had made grand plans to slip her unnoticed into his realm. Kore fought back the amused chuckle that was begging to be released from the depths of her throat. She wisely held it in check, half-terrified of what would happen if she dared to laugh, knowing it would be foolish to test Hades's patience any further.

"Fine," he snapped again curtly, flicking her hand back to her. "Now return it."

Satisfied, Kore held out her hands. Hades's ire temporarily waned as he watched her slender, slight fingers weave their mysterious power. Warmth and light fell over the withered plant. Within moments, the flower had returned to its former splendour, straightening and gleaming with renewed vitality, its deep blue-purple petals fully restored.

The goddess pulled her hands back. "It should not die again," she commented, caressing its petals tenderly. "I have removed the disease that was ailing it."

Hades wanted to ask her what the sickness was, just in case it ever befell it again – but his pride stopped him. Without a word of thanks, he rose to his feet. Kore did the same, and touched a palm to the milky white tree.

"I have never seen a tree like this," she marvelled, running her hand along its smooth texture admiringly. "How is it possible that flora can grow without the sun, here?"

The pleasant lilt of string instruments and flutes suddenly drifted to her ears. She turned her head, her interest immediately captured.

"That music… where is it coming from?" she wondered curiously.

Hades was as nonplussed as she was. Telling himself it was definitely time to leave, he opened his mouth to inform her that their business was finished – but the inquisitive goddess was already drifting toward the small set of steps that led through the white, northern archway heralding a new section of garden beyond the one they were in. Sapphires encrusted in the structure twinkled like blue stars, beckoning Kore closer.

The music was sweet. It serenaded Kore's senses, calling to her, luring her forward. To her amazement, she thought she heard the syrupy singing of nymphs somewhere nearby. She wondered if Underworld nature spirits were like their surface counterparts – or somehow even more beautiful.

A tug of resistance at her left wrist jolted her out of her enchanted musings. She looked back to find Hades gazing sternly at her.

"No," he said, before releasing her, and that simple word told Kore all she needed to know; that she would be seen if she entered through the archway.

But how the tune pulled at her, made her want to dance! She could feel it in her hips, where it commanded her to sway. She had been looking forward to Equinox night for the entire year, for she had been so convinced that her mother would permit her to attend the festival and share her first formal dance with a handsome deity…

Her brain whirred to a sudden stop. She turned back to Hades, who had been saying something else to her, something about departing – but Kore had not quite caught it. Her eyes trailed over him, following his straight, sculpted nose and chiselled cheek-bones, the angular planes of his jawline, his wilful, proud, petulant lips, his raven hair, falling into such disarray to frame that enticing attractive face. Finally her attention focused on his heavy-lashed, darkly exotic eyes, the secrets of which she so desired to learn.

And then the idea came to her… she could still get the dance she had always dreamed of… if she danced with him.

No sooner had she entertained the notion, she felt heat surge immediately into her cheeks.

How could she even consider it! The very idea was preposterous! Hades was still a stranger to her- it would be thoroughly improper, letting him place his hands on her and- what would her mother think?

Then she remembered her mother's broken promise, and felt an indignant flare of frustration. She was tired of being locked away all the time, of being limited in what she could and could not experience.

Besides, it was just an innocent dance. They were hardly running off and eloping together. Nothing, Kore convinced herself fiercely, would come from it.

If only she had known at the time how wrong she would be…

Hades, meanwhile, was watching her. The peculiar look on her face was unsettling, and she had seemingly not heard his previous words. She was biting her lip and regarding him extremely strangely – as if she were debating something in her head.

That was when Kore finally blurted it out. "A dance."

The young deity stared blankly at her. "What?"

Kore's heart was doing lively somersaults inside her chest. But it was too late to back out, when she had already proposed it.

"I would like a dance," she clarified.

When Hades simply continued to look at her and did not move, she flushed, and fiddled with the flowers strung at her belt, feeling like her face was aflame. At least the dimness around them helped to disguise it – though she did not know that Hades's eyes perceived everything in the darkness.

The silence was deafening. Kore could not bring herself to look at him, but could feel his gaze penetrating into her.

Why wasn't he saying anything? Why was he remaining so vexingly unresponsive?

Embarrassed that he still might not have understood her intention, she elaborated further, and rather shyly, "With you." Blushing more deeply, she went on politely, "Please."

Hades had frozen. He had comprehended what she had wanted the moment she had articulated the word 'dance' – but did not know what to do or think.

A part of him was full of contempt. He did not dance with silly little goddesses – even ones as beautiful as Kore looked right at that moment. How could she suggest it, or believe that he would indulge her for even a moment?

His despairing mother had always scolded him for being too aloof when it came to women-folk, and had long since given up on any hopes of him 'charming' any to his advantage. She did not understand how or why Hades considered words such a waste of time. Thanatos's tongue, in stark contrast, wove a silvery spell upon all who listened to him – on the rare occasions when he thought talking was necessary.

But the other part of Hades, to his utter mortification, was not so opposed to it. His automatic defence mechanism kicked in, however, and he was spurning her request immediately.

"Why would I dance with you?" Hades sneered.

She blinked up at him. Open hurt flashed across her expressive eyes and her lips parted to fire back a response – only her tongue could not deploy it. To Kore's horror, she found herself speechless, as discouraging thoughts encroached upon her. She had never been as confident in her looks as Aphrodite was, but she thought to herself, was she really so repulsive to him, when dressed in her greatest finery?

Had she, in her foolish inexperience, misread him entirely? Suddenly it occurred to Kore that Hades had only ever expressed interest in her abilities. He had come to her that night because he'd had need of them – not because she appealed to him as a person – or as a young woman.

She swallowed the rejection down. But it stung. It hurt. And her mother had warned her so many times about what she was experiencing at that very moment. Kore had told herself she would never allow anybody to use her powers – but hadn't she just let Hades borrow them for his designs – even if his request had been innocuous enough?

Maybe… maybe her mother had been right all along. Angry and upset at herself, Kore struggled with the internal conflict of her emotions.

Hades, who had been closely observing her, was disturbed to feel something heavy and bitter wedge in his chest upon glimpsing this. He had spoken more harshly than he had perhaps intended.

He half-expected – and half-hoped – her to retaliate, but Kore seemed to close in on herself instead, like a flower that sought to protect its precious centre.

"I suppose it was improper of me," she said quietly. Offering what he could clearly see was a false smile, she added, "Forgive me." As if to herself, she turned away and continued softly, "Maybe my mother is right, after all…"

He glared after her silently, the feeling in his chest growing more and more unpleasant. The silly girl had taken his remark personally – when he had not intended it to be an attack on her, per se. She did not know that he was generally opposed to the mindless pastime of dancing with anyone.

And why did she wish to dance with him, of all gods, anyway? He was sure Apollo would have made a far more willing volunteer. He had seen the two together. The idiotic Sun God idolised the young goddess, and she was clearly fond of him, too.

Then an ingenious thought struck him, as surely as one of Zeus's lightning bolts. She had asked for two favours. He could half the number right then and there… if he specified the dance as one.

Nobody was with them. Nobody would see them – and nobody but the two of them would ever know. It would be a one-off occurrence – and next time, he vowed he would get the better of her, at last.

Kore, who had composed herself again, straightened. She would not let his words affect her, she swore to herself. Hades had been nothing but a fantasy anyway, a silly, childish infatuation. Just as her power had caught his notice, it was nothing but his looks that had lured her in. She would forget him, after that night. And if he came seeking her again, she would alert her mother immediately and ensure that-

Her determined thoughts were scattered to oblivion when she felt the heavy cloak around her shoulders slip away. She turned, confused and alarmed, just in time to see Hades cast it aside to the ground.

He was regarding her with eyes so intense, Kore's breath caught in her throat. The blue light from the floating fireflies only accentuated his beauty – and for a terrifying instant, she was mesmerised, despite her raging opinion of him, mere seconds earlier.

As if sensing the change in mood, the distantly playing music shifted, too. The Spring Goddess's heart began to pound anew when Hades stepped gracefully towards her and without hesitation took her right hand in his left. It thundered harder still when his free arm slipped around her waist, and he tugged her close.

"But I thought you said…" she began, completely perplexed at his abrupt change of mind.

"Stop talking," Hades glowered back – and Kore did, as he began to lead her into a sensuous waltz.

Around and around they manoeuvred, sweeping over the expanse of the circular garden. Kore had told herself it was only a dance – but found it was so much more. Everything around them disappeared, and all she could see were Hades's eyes, searing through her like scorching, sooty coals – like he was staring into her very soul. He was a wonderfully proficient dancer, too, rolling her out for twirls before reeling her back into him to sway slowly again. Something inside her was shifting, and she knew at that moment, that she was captivated and falling hopelessly for him.

Something whispered to her that whatever it was that was changing between them, there could surely be no turning back.

His hand gripping hers and the arm at her waist sent wave after wave of sweet shocks through her. Kore's heart swelled with happiness and contentment. And Hades, who could see her delight visibly radiating in luminous beams from her heart-shaped face, found that his initial aversion to the dance quickly waned.

Suddenly he could not look away from her – even when he told himself that it was wrong to hold her gaze for so long. As he pulled Kore to him once more, and she released a trembling breath close to his left ear, something thumped unexpectedly in his chest.

It took Hades a stunned minute to realise it was his heart that had quickened.

He told himself it was the enchanted ambience of the garden. The magic of the seductively singing nymphs. Some wretched, mystifying force was responsible for the strange, foreign sensations that were stirring into being inside him. He, himself, had nothing to do with it.

But all at once, his body was acutely aware of hers, of how slight and light her frame was in his hold. The floral scent of her filled his head dizzyingly as they twirled, and her shining eyes, with their long, annoyingly tangled lashes were like mirrors, dazzlingly reflecting the shifting lights around them. And Hades could see himself, reflected in those irises, too. It was like they had captured him in an invisible, iron-like hold, and were drawing him into their tide, deeper and deeper.

Somehow, they had drawn closer together throughout the duration of the waltz. Kore's arm had slid up to wind around his shoulder, and all she could think about was how wonderful and liberating it felt, to dance at last to her heart's content. Again she was spun out and slipped behind her partner, before pirouetting elegantly back in front of him.

It was strange, how they moved in perfect synchronisation – as if they had danced together countless times before, as if their bodies were attuned to each other's movements.

Her cheeks were powdered with an appealing dust of pink, and his field of vision suddenly zoned in on the inviting sheen of her plump, lower lip…

With a startled jolt, Hades released her and jerked back, snatching his hands away, as if scalded by the merciless fires of Tartarus. Kore blinked, knocked unpleasantly out of the spell that had enveloped her, also. Her entire body felt like it was thrumming with lightning. It left her devastated and distressed.

Was that what attraction was like? Had Hades felt the sparks between them, too? Anxiously trying to hide how shaken she was, Kore reached down for the cloak on the floor.

Hades kept his gaze averted from her, as he tautly uttered, "We're leaving."

They did not speak to one another again as his chariot hurtled them back to the surface, towards Demeter's temple. Kore was troubled by the smothering tension that had settled over them – but did not dare to break the silence. Even more disturbing was the frantic racing of her heart and the inferno in her cheeks that refused to be subdued.

What had she done? It had only been a silly dance. Nothing had changed, she tried to convince herself.

Her body and heart, however, were not listening to her brain's desperate attempts to dismiss the experience as unspectacular and mundane.

The ride back seemed to pass in an even swifter blur. When Hades finally drew to a stop and stepped off the chariot, Kore felt like her head was spinning - and not from the journey alone. Distractedly, she reached up to her shoulders to remove the cloak, failing and nearly getting herself tangled in it in her haste to throw the damned garment off – then caught her foot on the trailing material and stumbled ungracefully on the step that led off the chariot. She fell forward, the hood flying over her head and eyes again, hating herself for her ill-timed clumsiness – when hard arms wrapped around her waist, causing her to swallow down a stifled choke.

With a gentleness that surprised her – for she had half expected him to just let her land humiliatingly on her face - Hades lowered her slowly to the ground, where he deposited her safely. His hands lingered for a fraction on her hips. Their eyes met – and once more Kore's heart stopped - then the dark-haired deity stepped back, placing breathing space between them once more.

"Uh…" Kore began, after a tense silence, her tongue feeling strangely lethargic. What in the heavens had come over her? "Thank you. For the dance. Yes." She stepped back, her legs unsteady. She had the odd sensation that she was floating – even when she could feel the earth solidly beneath her sandals.

"Yes. The dance," she repeated, nonsensically. The heat in her face increased a thousand degrees, when Hades simply continued to stare wordlessly – and so unreadably - at her.

So inarticulate! Kore cursed herself and longed to be swallowed up by the nearest tree. She imagined Aphrodite roaring with vivacious laughter at her novice attempts at bidding a god goodnight. She was doing an appalling job at acting normal. She envied Hades, who was standing so nonchalantly, thoroughly unaffected by the entire affair.

Finally, to her great relief, he spoke.

"That was your first favour, goddess."

Kore's eyes widened. So that was why he had mysteriously changed his mind and accepted her request! It did not make her feel any better. If anything, it made her even more ashamed of herself.

"W-well. Goodnight," she forced herself to quietly reply. She turned her back, immediately feeling the pressure recede. Just placing physical distance between them restored her treacherous brain's thinking capacity. However, the further she walked, the harder it became to not look back. She busied herself by fiddling with the cloak again whilst absentmindedly telling herself that she had to get it off before she exited the forest and reached her mother's temple-

But she had only managed several steps away when cool fingers snagged her right wrist, and she was spun back around with such swift abruptness, that her dazed head struggled to register what, exactly, was happening. She blinked, shocked to discover a moment later that she had been hauled into the unbreakable circle of Hades's arms again – and was still trying to register how that was even possible – when she felt warmth and softness brush against her lips.

Astonishment froze her in place as pure, electrifying sensation assaulted her entire body, rendering her limbs useless. It coursed through her, like radiant, liquid sunshine and filled her with such agonising sweetness that Kore felt her heart would surely fragment and burst. All she could manage was to stare up at the twinkling night sky, in wide-eyed stupor, as her heart drummed at the speed of a supernova - and by the time she had closed her eyes, Hades had already broken the brief, fleeting, tease of a kiss.

"And that," he whispered smugly, smirking deviously against her tingling lips, "was the second."

---

Sakura's eyes fluttered sleepily open, and she lay disorientated, her heart pounding as the lingering sensations of her dream carried over briefly into the waking world. She half expected to find Hades – Sasuke's – face inches away from hers. Instead she found herself staring up at an unfamiliar canopy as the remnants of her vision rapidly dissipated.

She hung onto the name, as desperately as she could. Kore. Kore. This time she would remember it. As long as she kept chanting it like a mantra in her mind, over and over again…

Kore. Kore. Kore. That was the name of the girl she had seen.

Why didn't she recognise the canopy of her bed, though? As she gingerly sat up, it hit her.

It was because she was not in her own bed. She was in Sasuke's room. Sprawled on his dark navy satin sheets. Sakura gulped as her eyes looked over his magnificent chamber once again. Then she remembered that she'd had an attack, and passed out just after Sasuke had come across her.

Groaning to herself, she raised a hand to her throbbing forehead. What was happening to her? Why was she passing out so much?

What did these crazy dreams mean, and why could she never fully recall them with convincing clarity?

Already, to her frustration, she had forgotten a great deal of her latest vision. All she could clearly recall was the girl's name, and the sizzling kiss at the end.

But Sasuke had insisted he had not been involved with any girl back when he had been known as Hades. Even when she had told him that she had seen a vision of him and the phantom young lady in the Oracle's spheres…

What was going on? Was he lying to her? Plagued with confusion, Sakura could not understand why he would choose to do such a thing. He had not seemed like he was misleading her when he'd angrily denied the existence of such a girl.

Sighing with unrest, she slipped her legs over the side of the bed – when a sudden sound akin to ruffling feathers caught her attention. As she turned her head in search of its source, her eyes double-took by the steadily crackling fireplace, where a regal, dark hawk was perched upon a slender wooden stand.

Its golden eyes peered intently at her. Diverted by the unexpected sight of the glorious animal, Sakura rose – only to fight back a wave of nausea and vertigo. She tilted unsteadily – but the effects were thankfully short-lived. Carefully she continued, and as she approached the bird, she marvelled at the lustrous sheen of its feathers, which contained darker specks of black – but was somewhat unnerved by the sharpness of its claws.

"I've never seen you before," she greeted it softly. "I didn't know Sasuke kept a pet hawk, too."

Somehow, it was fitting for him, she thought.

"You're just like him, huh?" she murmured, mostly to herself. "Proud, fierce, beautiful…"

The hawk tilted its head at her. Sakura reached out, trying her luck, wishing to stroke it.

The hawk released a screech of protest and pecked at her hand, a clear indication that it did not wish to be petted.

"Great," muttered Sakura, resting her hands on her hips in disappointment. "Let me guess. You're Alastor the Second?"

"Alecto," corrected a voice indifferently.

Something fluttered inside Sakura's chest as she turned to find that Sasuke had entered through one of the side doors concealed behind the gauzy drapes in the corner of his room. Just like Hades in her vision, he was dressed entirely in black.

"He isn't very friendly," Sakura remarked, quickly turning away to disguise the flush that had chosen to bloom in her cheeks at the sight of him.

He hadn't heard what she had said to the hawk seconds earlier – had he?

Please tell me he didn't, Sakura prayed, although she knew from past experience that luck was unlikely to be on her side. She suddenly wished that she had added a few less favourable adjectives, too.

Unknown to her, Sasuke had indeed heard – and had smirked to himself at her private admission.

A pause ensued. Then the death deity disclosed, "She is named after one of the Erinyes."

The hawk was a she? Sakura stared at the bird, which stared unapologetically back.

"What's an Erinyes?" she asked, pleased that she had something to talk about. It put off the tension that she knew would otherwise settle between them. After all, she had not yet talked to him about the past he had shown her, and was still trying to figure out how best to open up the sensitive subject.

"Deities of vengeance," Sasuke replied. With an extravagant flourish of her wings, Alecto abruptly flew off her perch and glided to her master, where she landed on his waiting arm, leaning into him as he rubbed an index finger under her chin.

All Sakura could think as she watched him was, show off.

"Vengeance? So that's why she's so grumpy?" Sakura folded her arms.

Sasuke stroked the top of the bird of prey's head, and deadpanned, "She does not like you." Directing a pointed glance at where Sakura stood, he added mockingly, "Yet."

Sakura turned her face dismissively. "Well that's fine, because I don't like her either."

But from the corner of her eye, she silently mused once again how gentle Sasuke was with animals – or maybe only the ones he favoured. Sasuke walked over to her, drew to a stop in front of her, and extended his arm.

"She'll behave," he assured her.

Sakura looked at him, then the bird. "No, thank you," she refused – even though she still really wanted to pet the arrogant creature.

"Sakura."

"Well, maybe just a little pet," Sakura reluctantly conceded, and cautiously reached out a hand. When Alecto obediently remained in position and did not attempt to tear her hand off, Sakura ran her fingers over the bird's smooth feathers. Soon she forgot all about feigning unwillingness and began smiling to herself.

Sasuke, who had been watching her interaction with the animal silently, was satisfied that the ambrosia had not left behind any evident negative effects this time.

Say it now, Sakura willed herself. Just say it, don't leave it hanging. You're going to have to face it, sometime, and the longer you leave it, the more awkward it'll get.

Aloud, she blurted out, without meeting his eyes, "I'm sorry about what happened to your family, Sasuke."

She saw him visibly tense, causing the precariously balanced hawk to readjust herself on his arm, and her eyes flew up, fearful that she had breached the subject too soon – but he was gazing away from her, into the fireplace.

She could see the muscles clenching tightly in his jaw.

"Save your pity," he uttered frostily.

She frowned, knowing she had to proceed with extreme caution. "It isn't pity, Sasuke. What happened to them – and you - was awful." After another pause, in which she ran a finger along Alecto's left wing, she went on quietly, "I think I finally understand everything a little better."

He drew the hawk away from her, back into him. She expected him to close up, to say nothing else on the matter – but to her surprise, he spoke again – albeit in clipped, standoffish tones.

"What do you know of loss?" he demanded.

Sakura smiled sadly. But she suddenly felt no animosity. She only felt sorry – that so many countless years of being alone had prevented the god standing beside her from really understanding human emotion – from reading other people's feelings.

"Well," she answered quietly, "it's true I have friends and family on the surface whom I haven't seen for a while."

She looked into the burning flames, and felt Sasuke's attention shift to regard her.

"But loneliness has many forms, Sasuke," Sakura added softly.

She did not see the way the God of Death's eyes widened fractionally at her words. When she chanced a quick glance his way again, he had turned his gaze from her again, back to the hearth once more.

She had no way of knowing that he was, at that moment, thinking about her words.

A long pause settled between them. Sakura told herself that it was not the time to probe him any further. She would save her questions about Cronus and the other deities for another time.

Sasuke carefully placed Alecto back on her perch. "What did you see, Sakura?"

Sakura blinked at his question. Clasping her fingers together tightly, she took the plunge. She knew it would not please Sasuke to hear it – but it was the truth.

"I saw a girl. Her name was Kore."

Kore. It meant maiden. However, the name was unfamiliar to him. He wondered whether it had been the name the Essence had carried in its previous shell, before it had been locked away in Sakura.

She seemed uncomfortable, for the next words she spoke were ones she got out with great difficulty.

"I can't remember everything… every time I see a vision, it feels like a distant illusion, and when I wake up, it's like I never even saw it at all. I try to remember, I really do, but it hurts so much." She raised a hand to her right temple. "It's like my mind can't retain it, and I don't know why. I've remembered other dreams before, but these ones… it's like they're different."

Sasuke said nothing. He was thinking of all the ways he planned to make Tsunade, Naruto and all the other fools pay for sealing something so unstable inside a fragile human girl. The essence's influence was clearly troubling Sakura with memories she could not recall herself – because they did not belong to her.

"I had to keep repeating her name over and over to remember it," Sakura continued. Hugging herself, she went on, giving herself no room for hesitation, "But this girl – I saw her with you."

Sasuke's head whipped around to her. She saw the scowl look on his face, and immediately held up her hands.

"I can't control what I see, Sasuke! But you were with her, and you-"

"What?" he hissed, his eyes flashing with anger, as he dared her to finish her sentence. "I what, Sakura?"

Releasing a trembling breath, Sakura whispered, "You kissed her."

The death deity's eyes widened incredulously – and then he turned dismissively away from her, rage brewing like an infernal storm within him. It was an ugly emotion, and one he did not want Sakura to see in him at that moment.

Sakura knew it was probably for the best to shut her mouth – but she couldn't. She wanted to know who the girl was – what had happened to her. And suddenly, she could not stop speaking.

"I told you, I saw you in the Oracle with someone-"

"No," Sasuke rejected, his fingers curling to form frustrated fists. "Just shut up, Sakura."

Sakura swallowed. She told herself to be quiet - she tried. But holding back her tongue was impossible. Even when she knew she was messing with fire – the most dangerous entity of them all.

"I'm sorry. You asked me what I saw, and that's the truth!"

Sasuke's brain refused to acknowledge it. Because in reality, there were only two possibilities – either it had never happened, or it had, and he could not remember.

But he never forgot anything. He remembered every piece of his past with frightening clarity, as if it had happened only a day prior. Sakura was insulting him every time she sprouted nonsense about a woman – some Kore – who had never been in his life!

"I said, be quiet," he ground out.

"Why does it make you so angry?" Sakura exclaimed, not understanding why he was getting so worked up. "Even if it did happen a long time ago, why would it bother you so much? Why are you ashamed of-!" she broke off, as the death deity's patience finally severed and he whirled on her, so suddenly that Sakura physically took a step back, clutching a hand over her thundering heart.

"Because there was never anyone else!" he snarled at her.

A crippling silence followed his outburst. They stared at each other, and Sakura saw that his chest was heaving – a clear sign that he had completely lost his temper – and felt her body shaking, too. His words seeped through her ears, and the magnitude of their unspoken insinuation collided into her at full force.

There had never been anybody else… only her.

The death deity seemed to realise the weight of it too, for he seemed momentarily startled - and genuinely incensed – as if he could not comprehend exactly how his deserter lips had allowed the admission to pass through their impenetrable barrier.

After several attempts of forming words unsuccessfully, Sakura finally managed to whisper, "Sasuke…"

He swivelled around again, turning his back to her, pacing away in an attempt to calm the turbulence of his inner turmoil. Damn it. How was it that she was able to wrestle the iron-like self-control, which he had always prided himself for commanding, from him with such unsettling ease? When she pushed and pushed, he could not shut her out – no matter how hard he tried.

The pounding of his heart was all the proof he did not need that Sakura affected him – more than she even knew.

But Sakura had already started to realise it. He tensed when he heard her move towards him, prompting him to provide a scathing, dangerous caution.

"Don't, Sakura."

Sakura, detecting the unmistakeable warning, halted in place, her right hand clenched to form a fist over her heart. Wisely, she waited, biting down on her tongue to prevent herself from saying anything else that would further antagonise him.

It was a very long time before Sasuke spoke again. His voice was much quieter, but Sakura could still detect the lines of tension from the stiffness of his shoulders.

"Your memories are being contaminated," he muttered. It was the only other explanation he could think of; Sakura had clearly not imagined her vision. But he had kissed her just before he had sent her into his illusion. He logically concluded that the Essence's recollections were merging with Sakura's own, and they were starting to make her see things that had never actually happened. Any other alternative was just not possible.

He had never known any Kore – and if the spirit kept torturing her this way, then he had to find a way to rid her once and for all of it.

It then occurred to Sasuke, who he had to see. The irony of it was not lost on him – though he loathed acknowledging the fact.

Naruto had always had an irritating habit of possessing information that was far beyond his intellectual scope. Perhaps it was time for Sasuke to relieve him of it.

A light tug at the trailing end of his cloak snapped the death deity out of his contemplations. He turned his face to find Sakura, who had closed in. He saw the way her green eyes were darker than usual – the shade they became whenever she was upset or troubled.

"What do you mean, my memories are being contaminated?" she demanded.

When Sasuke averted his face, and made to turn away, she persisted, moving with him until she slipped in front of him. Gripping onto the fabric above his chest, she repeated, "What did you mean?"

His eyebrows drew together. "Sakura-"

"You know something," she insisted, her gaze widening as realisation dawned upon her, leaving her stricken. "You know what's wrong with me, why I keep blacking out and seeing these visions, don't you?"

Once again he began to move evasively away, and once more, Sakura clung onto him, resolutely pursuing an answer.

"Don't you, Sasuke?"

He angled his chin back slightly, regarding her down the barrel of his nose. The desperation in her voice caused something to stir within him. He was practically ready to spill it out, every single thing her cursed mother had kept from her. It was right there, on the tip of his tongue – and nothing was stopping him from speaking the words that would completely obliterate the walls of deceit that had been cocooning Sakura in a false state of ignorance for her entire life.

"Please, Sasuke," she had stepped closer to him, and he saw in her face the yearning to understand. Oh, how he was tempted! Lifting his left hand, Sasuke touched his fingertips lightly to her right cheek. She did not shy away from the touch, her eyes still locked pleadingly with his.

Her voice wavering, Sakura continued in a near-whisper, "Please tell me what's happening to me."

---

Author's note

Will he? WILL HE?! DUN DUN DUUUUUN.

That chapter was so much fun to write. I love the drama. Finally you all find out about Hades and Kore's relationship. It's also really long, and I'd really LOVE to hear everybody's thoughts. Please don't be silent. I'd love initial reactions! Talk to me, lovely people!

I actually wrote this chapter in reverse order, which is totally bizarre. I wrote the start bit last, and the middle bit first. Hope it turned out coherently, regardless.

Also, I want to apologise if any words are stuck together. This doesn't happen in my word document, but for some reason, when I upload, some words get stuck together without spaces. Please ignore them. I will go back to editing every mistake out in one go at the end of the story.