A/N: Happy Holidays y'all. I wanted to do the Time Travel AU one because it has more of a winter vibe, but this one was closer to being done.

He was polite, at least. And, while she wasn't necessarily happy about being snatched from the surface to be the bride of the (admittedly handsome, in his own way) God of the Dead, being Queen of the Underworld was a vast improvement for being trapped in her mother's shadow for all eternity.

It wasn't even that bad down below, not nearly so much as the mortals made it out to be. The Underworld almost mirrored the world above, spread out in a gradient of sorts, with Hades' - "Please, call me John. 'Hades' is the name of the realm, and more of a job title." - still and quiet palace on a high peak at the center. The mountain rose out of the center of a lake, with the Islands of the Blessed dotted close around it, where those who had lived repeated virtuous or heroic lives dwelled. The shores beyond with the Elysian Fields, where heroes and the righteous lived after the end of their first few lives. From there, the Fields faded slowly into the Asphodel Meadows, where the ordinary folk dwelled until rebirth. The Meadows weren't as pleasant as Elysium, but they weren't as bad as the mortals above believed - and nowhere near as awful as Tartarus beyond. That was where the Titans were chained, and where the wicked went after death to be punished for their misdeeds, great and small.

Even though Elysium and the Islands of the Blessed mirrored the surface more closely than anything else she'd seen anywhere in the Underworld, she didn't often go there - not because it hurt to be reminded of the place she'd been taken from, but because there was somewhere else she preferred more.

Kore, "the Maiden", though she preferred Cortana, had wandered frequently during her early days in the Underworld. Hades - John - had been perfectly polite and respectful, aside from the whole "abduction" thing, and only told her to avoid Tartarus because of its unpleasant residents. Otherwise she was free to go where she liked - though obviously not back to the surface. The furthest she'd gone in that direction was out to where Cerberus guarded the gates of the Underworld, mostly to count his heads (people said he had anywhere from one to a hundred) and pet him if he allowed it; the number of heads varied from moment to moment, and he had, and been quite delighted by her attention.

Cortana still went out to visit him occasionally, but she spent most of her time in the garden at the heart of John's palace. It was separate from the gardens where the food of the dead grew, with beds of plants that only bloomed at night. To facilitate that, the garden was trapped in a state of perpetual night, lit only by the silver glow of the moon, which didn't seem to affect the plants at all. They grew and bloomed and died back as all plants did on the surface under the light from Helios and his chariot.

She was there when John came to look for her.

"My queen."

Cortana sat up from where she'd been lying half under a wide Datura, stroking the nearly glowing flowers. "Yes?"

"There is one of the living here to petition us, if you wish to attend."

She frowned, but got up and brushed the dirt off her peplos. "You want me to hear this petitioner?"

"It is not whether or not I want you to," said John as she came to stand before him, "but whether or not you want to. You are the Queen of the Underworld; it is your right to hear any petitions made regarding anything within our borders."

She hummed, and walked with John through the halls. "Who is the petitioner?"

"You might know him - the hero Heracles."

"I know of him. What's Hera done?"

John raised an amused eyebrow in her direction. "What makes you think she was involved?"

"Heracles is a child of Zeus, same as me," she answered, "and Hera has never liked that her husband has been extremely free with his 'sword', though it is us who are his children who end up paying the price for his indiscretions."

Hades hummed in agreement. "Hera drove him mad for a time, to the point that he slew his wife and children. Now he seeks to make amends for their deaths, and has been assigned a number of Labors to complete, this last of which apparently involves our domain."

There were two thrones, identical in size and shape, on a dais at the head of the hall. Neither one sat ahead or out of balance with the other, overshadowed the other, took precedence over the other.

Equals.

Cortana shot John a brief glance out of the corner of her eye, but he didn't react, only gesturing for her to join him. They both took their seats, and after a moment Heracles was escorted into the hall to stand before them. He looked like he had been in a fight recently, but he still carried himself with pride-

Too much pride. Cortana's eyes narrowed at his near-swagger and confident grin. It seemed that Heracles took after their father in more ways than one.

The hero did address them with respect, however. "My lord and lady," he said, and bowed deeply.

Cortana hummed quietly, and John briefly glanced her way again before speaking. "Heracles, son of Zeus and Alcmene, what brings you before us?"

"You know, my lord, that I have been given Labors to complete to purify me of my sins," and there a flicker of grief passed over his face, "King Eurystheus of Tiryns has as last handed down the final one: to capture Cerberus and bring it before him. I ask your leave to make the attempt."

Cortana spoke before she could stop herself. "You may not harm him," she said fiercely, thinking of the happy, almost puppy-like serpent-dog who greeted her with many tongues eagerly licking her face every time she went out to see him, "You may use no weapons against him, and when your Labor is complete, he is to be released so that he may return."

Heracles seemed surprised at her, which she was not surprised by. Though not actually born in Athens, the hero had been raised in the Athenian tradition, which dictated that women were essentially the property of their fathers, then their husbands, with less power even than Spartan women. They at least were permitted to own land and run the estates while their husbands were away at war, whereas in Athens' women were slaves in all but name.

The hero looked to Hades, and Cortana despaired inside. Though she was his bride and he called her his queen, John was still the brother of Zeus and Poseidon; Zeus and Hera were known for their fights, despite their marriage, and while unmarried, Poseidon rarely tolerated defiance from any of his assorted lovers and consorts. She closed her eyes and waited-

"Well? You have heard the terms set by the queen," said John, "No weapons, that no harm may come to Cerberus, and he is to be released to return here when the Labor is judged complete. Unless you wish to remain here instead?"

Heracles paled at that, and bowed again before being escorted from the hall. Even though he had spoken to defend her, in a way, Cortana still didn't look over at Hades, not even when he turned to look at her. "You're worried about him. Cerberus."

"...When mortals look upon him, they see only a monster, and even the greatest heroes are rarely ever kind to the ones they encounter. Besides, there is too much of Zeus in Heracles; perhaps he would not have been cruel without cause, but he would not have been gentle with him, either. I didn't like the thought of him coming back poisoned by his arrows dipped in hydra blood or with parts missing or crushed by his club - or not coming back at all."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw John incline his head in acknowledgement, grimacing. "In that we are most definitely in agreement; Zeus has never been known for equivalent responses. More like wildly disproportionate. I agree with the terms you set, but next time we have a petitioner? A little bit of warning would be appreciated, so we can discuss together what may or may not be appropriate."

That made her finally look at him, and he gave her a soft smile, then stood up and held out a hand for her. "Shall we go and watch, to make sure Heracles holds to our terms?"

Cortana hesitated for only a moment before placing her hand in his and letting him pull her to her feet.

It was a hard battle, but Heracles did as commanded and captured Cerberus without weapons and without harm - undue harm, at least. Cortana stood next to John and watched as the hero bound the hound and carried him over to where Charon waited to bear them back across the River Styx. Cerberus was whining in distress through the many ropes that bound his many jaws, and she longed to run to him, reassure him that all would be well and he would be back to guard the gates of the Underworld very soon, but as it was she could have used a little reassurance of her own.

Even as she thought that, John took a step closer and gently wrapped an arm around her shoulders, while also making it clear she could shake him off without fear if he was unwelcome. "It'll be alright, Kore," he said quietly, "He'll be home before you know it."

She leaned her head against his shoulder and said, "I hope you're right." After a moment, she said, "Cortana."

"Pardon?"

"My name. I prefer Cortana."

"Cortana," he repeated, "As you wish."

He was right, fortunately; an indeterminable but still undeniably short time later, Charon ferried the massive hound back across Styx, hunched over to avoid being whacked off the boat by the furiously wagging tail. The moment they were close enough, Cerberus jumped from the boat and almost capsized it, but Charon righted it and turned around without even landing on the shore, muttering all the while. The hound landed on the shore without touching so much as a drop of the toxic water, and barked in delight before rolling onto his back and wriggling in the dust.

Cortana rushed to his side and scratched and rubbed his belly, earning more delighted barks and whines, before the dog rolled back to his feet and turned to start licking her face, making her laugh. She knew when John had come down as well, because Cerberus started, then nearly howled in overwhelming happiness before charging past her to jump the other god, flinging himself into his master's arms.

The sight would have been horrifically strange to mortal eyes, but she didn't even blink at the sight of the "cold and distant God of the Dead" catching his multi-ton pet serpent-dog and swinging him in a circle like a child, laughing amidst delighted barks from said dog. Then he set Cerberus back down on his paws so he could run around on the shore, which he did, whizzing past in a blur of fur and scales and flying sand. Cortana just laughed, same as John, and let him take her hands and twirl her there on the riverbank, the skirts of her peplos swirling around her.

She didn't protest when he drew her into a gentle embrace, only sighed and leaned against the god's shoulder. "I suppose Heracles got what he wanted, then."

"So it would seem." John tilted his head back and seemed to stare through the darkness high overhead that blanketed the Underworld like the surface's blue sky. "Hera is furious, of course, but Heracles is free."

Cerberus went tearing by again, barking, kicking up more sand and making them both laugh.

The next petitioner to come was a mortal poet and singer by the name of Orpheus. He had been newly wed to a woman by the name of Eurydice, and after their wedding, she had been celebrating, dancing with naiads while he played his lyre for them. But a shepherd spotted her and the naiads - though not Orpheus, it seemed - and made as if to carry her off. She fled - and stepped on a viper in her flight, which bit her and gave her a fatal dose of its venom. Orpheus had sung his grief to the world, and so moved the gods of Olympus that they had let him come to the Underworld in an attempt to win back her life.

John hummed at that and exchanged a look with Cortana, then gestured for him to play.

Cortana had never heard anything so mournful in her life. Before he was even halfway through his songs, she had to focus very hard on breathing to stop from sobbing, tears pouring unashamed down her cheeks. John was more stoic, but even his eyes were wet when he sent Orpheus from the hall so they could speak.

He used the cloth of his own chiton poderes to wipe her tears away and held her until they faded. "His love for this Eurydice is great indeed," he said, combing his fingers through her dark hair in a soothing gesture.

"Agreed," said Cortana, her breath still hitching, "but still I wonder…"

"Wonder what, my queen?"

"He mourns for her deeply enough to move even the gods, and loves her enough that he is willing to risk the dangers of the Underworld to get her back - he's made it this far, after all - but he is not willing to die for her, to take his own life to be with her again?"

John frowned at that. "You think he is not wholly true? That he wants to live - or fears death - more than he loves her?"

"It's possible." She pressed her forehead against his shoulder. "We need some way to test him. If he passes, then he is true - or true enough - and his wife should be returned. If he does not…"

John hummed, then told her his idea. She agreed, and they called Orpheus back in. "We will permit you a chance to restore your wife to life," said the god, "but. There are conditions. She will follow behind you on your way out of the Underworld, but you are not permitted to look back at her until both of you have left the caves of the Underworld and stand in the light of the Sun once more. If you do this successfully, she will be restored. If you fail, she will return here forever, and no more attempts will be permitted."

Orpheus nodded, and bowed to them both before being escorted back out of the hall like Heracles before him. As he went, John waved a hand, and the shade of a beautiful woman in wedding attire appeared behind him and followed him out, almost near enough to touch. "Now we shall see."

"That was her? Eurydice?"

"Aye," he answered, leaning back on his throne, "If by chance he does make it back to the surface with her still in tow, the light from Helios's chariot will restore her completely. We need only to wait and see."

An indeterminate but still short amount of time later (shorter than the time it took for Cerberus to return), the shade of Eurydice reappeared in the hall. "Ah," said John, "he was very close - but not close enough." Then he sent her away to the Asphodel Fields.

Orpheus followed his wife a few months later. Cortana saw them later on when she was out riding one of the massive black stallions that pulled John's chariot; they were eating a spare meal out in the long grass, and she briefly longed for someone who would do even that simple thing with her, having a small picnic like mortals instead of a grand feast that inevitably ended in at least one drunken stabbing and another illegitimate spawn from Zeus, complete with a lifelong vendetta from Hera. The husband and wife looked much happier here than she had ever been at one of said feasts, anyway.

Then she wondered - would John want to do that with her? He said they were wed, and she was Queen of the Underworld…

Eventually she got up the courage to ask, and he agreed and took her to the base of the mountain that his palace crowned. "Very few of our attendants ever come down here," he said as their horses walked along the beach, heading for a break in the trees that came down to the sand, "They prefer to just will themselves everywhere, so if you ever feel the need for privacy, this is the place."

Cortana nodded, and let John lead the way down a narrow track through the forest that headed for the base of the mountain - all the way to it, actually. A waterfall came down into a clearing there, spilling out of a spring that came out of the rock somewhere above them, filling the air with a mist that was pleasantly cool in the heat of what passed for the Underworld's 'day'. She helped Hades spread out a blanket in the shade of the trees, then hiked up her skirts to wade in the shallows of the pools below the falls.

Little silver fish darted around her feet as she moved carefully through the cold water and over the slick stones; she was a goddess, she wouldn't die from a simple slip and fall, but it would still hurt. But carrying her skirts in her hand was incredibly awkward, made it hard to balance - until John came over. "Here, I don't know if you can actually do it with a peplos, but to hold chiton poderes up we do it like this."

Cortana had heard of how men "girded their loins" - tied up their robes - to fight or do hard work, but she had never actually seen it or learned to do it herself. Now John showed her how to gather up her robes as much as possible, bring the fabric between her legs, then separate it into two segments and tie them around her waist. It took a bit of getting used to, but having both hands free much improved her balance and let her investigate all kinds of little creatures living in the waterfall's plunge pool.

John watched her with a soft smile from where he was sitting on a rock at the edge of the pool, his bare feet dangling down into the cool water, and after some time of weaving through the water following the little animals living there, Cortana came to sit next to him and, finally, leaned her head against his shoulder. After a moment, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and rested his head against her own.

After that moment in the hidden grove, Cortana started taking a more active role in the palace of the Underworld. She began managing the household more directly and also the decoration of it, bringing light and color to a once dark and sometimes dreary place. She rode often with her husband to other hidden groves and grottoes in the shadow of their mountain, enjoying the peace and quiet but also talking to John about his life and other events before her own birth. She also went out to see Cerberus often, and played with the serpent-dog when she could.

But of course, nothing good could last forever.

The next time John came to see her about a petitioner, his face was grim and closed off. He led her to the throne room without a word.

But there was no mortal there begging for their aid.

It was Hermes, frowning at John - but he brightened at the sight of Cortana trailing along next to him in confusion, and sent her a winning smile. "Ah, Miss Kore! It is good to see you well. Come, we must return to your mother in all haste."

Cortana stopped in an instant, and so did the god next to her. "My mother?" she nearly demanded, "I am despoina in my husband's house. What does my mother have to do with this?"

Hermes' smile faded, and he swallowed thickly at the storm clouds gathering on her face. "Miss Kore…"

"Tell me," she commanded, and the messenger did.

Hades had asked the leave of Zeus to carry off his daughter to be wed, but no one had spoken to Demeter on the matter. She believed Cortana had gone missing - which, in a way she had - and spent the better part of several years searching the whole world for her before Hecate and Helios finally took pity on her and told her what had happened. When she learned the truth, she had been enraged and flown in the face of Zeus, demanding her daughter's return. Zeus hadn't wanted to anger his brother and so had refused, but because of that Demeter had withdrawn to grieve.

Her power had been removed from the world, and so as a result, nothing would grow. No fruits of tree and vine, no golden fields of grain. Plants grew, of course - that was not Demeter's domain, but Cortana's - but there was no food. The whole world was starving, and so the people had cried out to the gods for aid and mercy, who in their turn had gone to Demeter and begged her to restore the earth. She said that not even a single stalk of grain would flower to harvest unless Cortana was returned to her, so Hermes had come on the command of Zeus to bring her home.

Cortana herself had wondered at the sudden increase in the number of souls coming through the Gates of the Underworld, but thought it another of the endless wars always being waged in one place or another. She hadn't thought it was because of her.

She turned away from Hermes to bury her face in John's chest, and he held her close. "I don't want to leave," she whispered to him, hoping that the messenger wouldn't hear.

"And I don't want you to go," John said, already resigned, "but neither of us can afford to defy Zeus, not with this on the line. If the mortals can barely afford to feed themselves, they certainly will not be making offerings to Olympus, and nothing will upset Zeus faster or more thoroughly than not receiving his due. You must return home."

She looked up at him, tears gathering in her eyes, and he pressed their foreheads together with the utmost gentleness. "Think fondly of Cerberus and I, my dear," he said softly, "and remember always that you are the Queen of the Underworld; I can do little about the other gods, but any mortals who do not give you your due offerings and respect will be punished for it most harshly when they enter in our realm."

Cortana's tears spilled free, and she tilted her head up those last few inches to kiss John for the first time. Yet as she did so, she realized that though he had spoken clearly, he was carrying something in his mouth. She tilted her head to kiss him deeper, to pull the tiny shapes into her own mouth and feel them out with her tongue-

Pomegranate seeds; she recognized the texture of the bright red aril. With Hermes watching them so closely, John couldn't actually hand her anything to take with her when she went back to the surface - but he could give her a choice to return to the Underworld, if she so desired. After all, there was a reason she had never eaten of the food of the Underworld; those who did so could never leave. Yet that rule in that particular form was for mortals; there was no telling how the prohibition differed in the case of gods.

They would soon find out.

The seeds burst between her teeth, flooding their mouths with tart sweetness.

Hades called for his attendants to harness his horses (named Phobos and Deimos after the children of Ares) and lent Hermes his chariot to take Cortana back to the surface, though his eyes never left her. She bade farewell (for now) to Cerberus as well, and the serpent-dog whined and laid down at her feet, staring up at her with almost tearful eyes.

Cortana didn't dare say that she would return. Hermes was listening.

She still felt Hades' eyes on her when the chariot sped for the surface, racing across Styx and all the other rivers of the underworld, then up through the smaller caves above, a journey of hours even for the tireless horses.

At last they came to the surface, and Cortana had to shield her eyes against the sudden bright light of Helios in his own chariot high in the sky. She also shrank back against the sudden openness of the blue sky above her; after so long in the Underworld, the dark dome of the cavern ceiling overhead felt more comfortable than the empty air. If Hermes noticed, he said nothing, only snapped the reins to send the horses faster to Olympus, where her mother waited.

Almost all the gods were in attendance, but none save Demeter took notice of their arrival - or their just-as-swift departure. Her mother spirited her away to - well, Cortana didn't know where exactly, but in contrast to everything else she saw on the chariot ride to Olympus, it was rich and green, full of growing things.

When Cortana told her what had transpired in the Underworld, Demeter was greatly upset, especially when she heard that her daughter had eaten the pomegranate seeds of her own will. "Whatever your will might be, to keep me sheltered in your shadow forever, I am almost a woman grown, Mother!" Cortana said over her cries of grief, "If it had not been Hades, it would have been someone else - Hermes and Apollo have already attempted to court me, don't think me blind to those gifts you sent back to them, they still hold out hope and who knows how many others - or worse, it might have been Zeus."

"He is your father-"

"That wouldn't stop him!" Cortana's shout startled her mother to silence. "You know him, Mother. You've been around him much longer than I have. You know he can never resist a pretty face."

That didn't stop Demeter from taking their case before Zeus, but in the end there was nothing for it. Cortana had eaten the food of the Underworld, and so she remained wed to Hades and had to return there for a few months of the year - a few months that she secretly looked forward to the entire time she was on the surface.

Finally it was time. The dark of the year was upon them, and Cortana didn't even wait for Hermes to come get her. She tied up the skirts of her peplos the way John had shown her and nearly flew to the entrance to the Underworld and down to the edge of the River Styx, bypassing the line of mortal souls waiting for the ferryman, too breathless from her run to make a sound. Though it was hardly necessary at this point, she still handed Charon the fare for the passage and sat at the bow of the boat the way Cerberus had so long ago.

The serpent-dog in question spotted her and started barking happily before they drew within a hundred yards of the far shore, but Cortana was patient and waited for Charon to pole them up onto the sand before jumping out and greeting Cerberus with delighted scratches and belly rubs. Then when he ran off barking at some souls trying to climb out of Tartarus, she raced for the palace.

She couldn't say how she knew where John was, only that she did, and she ran through the halls to him.

He must have heard her coming, because he was in the midst of rising from his chair when she nearly slammed open the door to his study. A second later he stumbled and collapsed back into the chair once more, though he still easily held her in his arms like he had once taken Cerberus's full weight without pause or flinch.

She broke the kiss and pressed their foreheads together as Hades had before her departure some months before. "I have missed you, my husband," she whispered.

"I have missed you, my wife," he returned, just as soft, just as warm, cradling her in his arms like she was the most elegant amphora holding the finest of wines - not delicate like glass, but something worthy of reverence, of honor, of delight.

Cortana kissed him again and felt the heat start to rise between them.

Whatever anyone else may have believed, Hades was not Thanatos, the God of Death, stiff and cold like his siblings Geras and Oizys and Charon and all the rest. He was the God of the Underworld, his domain lay deep under the earth…

...where seeds were planted to grow.

Her fingers found the fastenings for his chiton poderes, even as he undid those for her peplos, the fabric sliding from their bodies like water to pool on the floor at their feet.

"Cortana," John murmured against her lips, strong hands roving down over her chest, then around her hips and up her back, and she sighed in response.

"If only we had had more time before," she whispered in reply, and kissed him again, deeper this time, stroking her own hands down his muscled chest. On him the muscles in question weren't a display like on some of the other gods, weren't sculpted just so and oiled so they glistened in the golden light of Olympus. He was a practical god, and so he was simply strong - and used that strength now to stand up again with her in his arms.

He turned and sat her back down on his chair - then went to his knees between her spread thighs. She realized what he intended to do the instant before he did it and shuddered; she'd never believed for a second that she would have a husband as invested in her pleasure as she was expected to be in his.

He spread her open with his thumbs and licked a smooth but firm stripe up, then curled the tip of his tongue around her clit and did a slower but equally firm drag over it.

Cortana was vaguely aware of the pain in her head from where she'd thrown it against the backrest of the chair, and the surprising softness of John's hair against her hands. She gasped sharply enough to make her chest ache when he did it again, then let out a cry when he switched to sucking at her clit while slipping a finger into her.

He moved with the infinite patience she'd come to expect of him, a sharp contrast to her own insistent demands for more, deeper, faster! John only chuckled - a wonderful stimulation all its own - and maintained his pace, briefly dipping to slide his tongue into her alongside his finger before returning to her folds and clit while a second finger joined the first and pressed against her walls, stroked over them.

Her mind whited out and only slowly drifted back down to earth, like a falling leaf. When she opened her eyes again, John was watching her intently, blue eyes blazing like the heart of a flame. "You're beautiful," he said, and her cheeks colored. To hide her embarrassment she pulled him down to kiss her, wrapping her arms around his neck and tasting herself on his lips.

He lifted her into his arms again, still kissing her, and somehow made his way to their bedchamber without dropping her or running into a wall. The sheets were as soft and pleasantly cool as ever when he lowered her onto them, still handling her tenderly but not like glass.

Cortana pulled him down with her, then rolled them to sit astride his hips. He let her do it and lay under her without protest, looking up at her and brushing the backs of his fingers over her cheek.

She leaned down to kiss him again and, in the same motion, moved their bodies just so…

He wasn't cold inside her; even knowing that he was the God of the Dead rather than Death, she'd still half-expected it. In truth he was warm, like rich earth baked under the summer sun, and filled her just right; if she had been one to believe in such things, she would have said they were made for each other.

But she wasn't, so instead she moved, and he moved with her, lifting his hands so she could brace herself, get more strength behind their thrusts until John growled low in his throat, hips bucking as he came.

Her husband did not leave her unsatisfied for even a moment. His body still shuddering with the climax, his hands released her own to seek out pleasure zones on her body, one stroking down her neck and over her chest to cup a breast and tweak a nipple, even as the other sought out her clit.

Her mind went white again, and she was only vaguely aware of her mouth gasping John's name.

When she came back to herself, he had moved them completely up onto the bed, stretched out but lying together under a soft linen sheet. She was cradled in his arms against his chest, listening to his heart beat - a mortal affection she hadn't expected, yet the longer she listened, the more she found she liked the sound under her ear.

She looked up, carefully to avoid disturbing the fingers running slowly through her hair, and found that John's eyes were closed, though more in contemplation than slumber. "Did you hear that they have given me a new name?"

John's eyes opened, and he looked down at her to give her his full attention. "Have they now? What is it? Do you like it?"

"I think I do, actually," she said, a smile pulling at her lips, "and they call me Persephone."