A/N: Thanks for your reviews! I'm glad people liked Charon, he was fun to think up. He's a bit cheeky really, as you'll see next week. This chapter is a bit shorter than usual, but this was a good place to cut it off at, as next week's chapter features a new perspective and a new subject.

I have two reviews to address this week, both from Guest (I don't know if they're from the same person or two different guests who reviewed). The first is a question about what happens to the souls without coins? If you remember way back to chapter 2, as Hades was driving his chariot to the Underworld, they pass that ruined castle with a bunch of ghosts? Those are them. Some of the ghosts looked sharp, and some seemed to be fading away; the ones that were there the longest were the faded ones.

The second from Guest was a request to add the Lampades. I have no plans at this time to incorporate those, and if I did, it would probably be a very brief mention like I did with the Furies last week. Sorry!

Now onto this chapter! As requested, more Hades and Persephone time! :)

Chapter 14: Sharing the Warmth

Hades brooded miserably in his study. He was supposed to be working, but his mind was on the goddess who was his guest. He had been a jerk that morning. He knew it. He needed to put some distance between them, but he hadn't counted on how affectionate she was. How could he push her away when she was never frightened of him? So he forced himself to act as though he felt nothing for her. Thanatos was furious with him, of course. Thinking of his advisor made anger tighten in his gut.

How dare Thanatos act as if he had the right to order him around? Worse was the self-appointed way Thanatos was guarding over Persephone. Not only did the lesser god think to question his actions, but he was also flirting with his goddess! He sighed and rubbed at his forehead, where a headache threatened. He shouldn't care what Thanatos did to Persephone. But he did. It rankled that Thanatos could interact freely with her when he could not. The god hadn't waited for him to be out of the room before moving in on her.

The only consolation was that she didn't appear to enjoy the attention. She bore it well enough, but he could see she was uncomfortable. And when Thanatos leaned in to kiss her… Hades saw red. Watching it happen was bad enough. Seeing her flinch of fear sent him over the edge. He'd wanted to tear into Thanatos right there. He barely clung to his civility as he pulled the other god from the room.

Thanatos had been full of a self-righteous fury, confronting him about his reaction. Hades couldn't admit how painful it was watching someone else woo his love. He denied being jealous, though he was bitterly so. Seeing her rebuff Thanatos reminded him that she could never love him. Thanatos had a younger countenance, was friendly and out-going. If she did not fall for the charms of the lesser god, she would not like the older, sterner Hades.

He fled to the throne room to nurse his battered heart. There was no solace for him there. Judging souls was not restful at the best of times, and once he encountered the old couple, he was lost. It burned to know they had the kind of love he never would. Even the feeling in his heart for Persephone paled in comparison to the years the couple had shared together. He had lived through violence, pain and rage. He learned to endure them all and ground himself against their flash-flood power. It was the happier emotions, joy, love, laughter, that tended to ambush him. They were foreign to him. Having not experienced them himself, he had no defense against them. The couples' love seared at him like acid, leaving him helpless in time for Persephone to find him.

He hadn't wanted her to see how pathetic he'd become in the face of love. He tried to flee. When he ended up on the ground, he'd wanted to die. But instead of leaving him to his misery, Persephone helped him. She couldn't know how much her touch meant to him. He could still feel her hand in his, her fingers on his face, in his hair. She was haunting and enticing all at once. Without her, he couldn't have said how long he would have sat there, suffering. She seemed to follow the clumsy explanation he gave over lunch. To his astonishment, she didn't shun him for it. He didn't want her pity, but he accepted her understanding. During the course of the meal, he forgot about the distance he was supposed to be putting between them.

Until Thanatos came. Hades scowled fiercely. Somehow it was worse that Thanatos asked permission before speaking with her. It was as though the god of death were offering to stand aside for Hades to claim her. Or that Hades already had a right to her, and all others must come through him first. He couldn't do that to her. Persephone was free to choose whoever she wanted… and she wouldn't want him. Still, the way they'd parted left a hole gnawing at his heart. Even if he couldn't be with her in the way he wanted, he still should have been polite to her. He didn't want her to look back at her time here with regret. He didn't want her to see him as a monster. Well, he was a monster, but he didn't have to act like one toward her. And perhaps if he was near her, Thanatos would not feel so free to pursue her. Hades couldn't court her, but he could protect her from unwanted advances.

He resolved to apologize the next time he saw her, and work on being a more courteous host. He made sure he was early to dinner for once. Only Hecate was there before him. He nodded absently to her, which she returned. Thanatos was next. Hades glared at him; the lesser god avoided his eyes and conversed softly with Hecate. Persephone took a long time to arrive. It was late enough that he began to worry she wasn't coming. Had he offended her so badly that she refused to see him? When she did come, her hair was wet and she was breathless.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I fell asleep in the washroom. I didn't mean to keep everyone waiting." She glanced around the room. Hecate and Thanatos nodded briefly to her, and then her eyes landed on him. His heart jolted. She smiled hesitantly, but didn't approach as she used to. He felt as though he had stolen her initiative. It was time to give it back. Everyone was waiting on him to lead them in to dinner, but he let them wait a while longer. He walked up to her slowly. The dampness had darkened her hair and slicked it down. He found himself longing to run his fingers through it, to see how it changed when it was wet. His mind conjured the image of her bathing, just a few minutes ago. He swallowed hard, trying not to think of water cascading down her smooth skin. He could have helped her wash…

His heart pounded in his chest, and his skin felt warm. No wonder she would never look at him with desire; he came to apologize and all he could think of was seducing her in the bath. He was careful not to corner her as he approached, and to give her enough time to move away if she wanted. She didn't move, watching him cautiously.

"May I have a word, Lady Persephone?" he asked quietly, trying not to be overheard. His voice was remarkably steady considering the tangle of emotion coursing through him. She nodded. Her expression was unreadable. It was much harder to speak than he'd expected. As the lord of the Underworld, he did not have to apologize often. This was so important to him, it was difficult to find the right words to make it better. His shadow stretched behind him, making sure Hecate and Thanatos would not approach.

He cleared his throat. "I'd like to apologize for my behavior," he began softly. "Both this morning and this afternoon. I did not act as I should have around you, and I'm sorry if it caused you any distress." He bowed shallowly, and held it, watching her face. Her expression warmed, and a smile lifted her lips. She reached out and laid a hand on his arm to raise him. He straightened.

"I accept, my lord, and I too would like to apologize if any actions of mine caused you to react in that way."

His breath caught in his throat when she said my lord, and he wondered what it would take to have her say my love instead.

"No, my actions were entirely my own," he assured her. "I shall strive not to repeat myself." He couldn't help it. She was still touching him and not pulling away. It was such a rare treat for him that it went to his head—and heart. He took her hand and brought it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. Her scent teased him as her spring-colored eyes widened. He felt a rush of pleasure that he'd caught her by surprise. Still she didn't pull away, but smiled warmly at him.

"May I escort you into dinner?" he asked, though he would have fought anyone who tried to claim the privilege from him. Her cheeks pinked.

"I'd love that," she agreed. If only it were always that easy to make her happy. He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. They walked in together to the dining room. He was aware of Thanatos and Hecate staring at them. They could stare, he thought defiantly. He was proud of the beautiful woman on his arm. It was worth swallowing his ego to make her comfortable around him again. Dinner progressed as usual. Persephone was still quiet, not offering much conversation. She seemed very tired again. He hoped she was not coming down with something, and resolved to ask Hecate—the Underworld's resident physician—about it.

After dinner, Thanatos and Hecate left as soon as they could while still being polite, leaving Hades and Persephone conspicuously alone. He rather pointedly remembered a conversation in which he'd told them not to leave him alone with the maiden. They didn't understand the danger he represented to her. They had too much faith in his control, faith that he lacked in himself. At the moment, though, he couldn't bring himself to care. His instinct to take care of his goddess was currently stronger than his body's lust for her.

"Well, my lady," he began, "What would you like to do this evening?"

"Could we go to your study?" she asked. Her suggestion couldn't have pleased him more.

"Whatever you wish," he replied. "I am yours." He'd meant it flippantly, but it came out serious. She blushed, and her eyes lit up. She held her hand out to him. He took it gratefully and tucked into his arm as they walked to his study. Once there, he led her to couch, but she declined.

"I am feeling a little cold, would it bother you if I stood over the fire for a little time?" she asked.

"Of course not," he said quickly, masking his worry. Was she not adjusting well to being in the Underworld? Did she miss the warm sunlight already? Or was this further evidence of an illness? He cast an eye over her dress. It clung pleasantly to her figure while maintaining modesty. The sleeves went down to her wrists, the neckline was high enough to cover her assets without looking marmish, and the hem was below her ankles. It should have been warm enough for her. Still, maybe he would ask Hecate to make some clothes in a warmer material for her, perhaps from some imported wool? Would yarn grown in the sunlit world comfort her?

He brought her to the fireplace and forced himself to leave her there. His shadow put a couple more logs on the fire and stirred the coals to make the flames higher. He turned away under the guise of searching for something on his desk. His heart pulsed erratically, reminding him of the danger of being alone with her. Why did he torture himself with her presence? Because he loved her too much to stay away. He looked over his shoulder at her.

"Persephone!" he cried. Panic shot through him. She slumped low over the fire, barely keeping her feet. In another second she would be in the fire. He lunged toward her, catching her and pulling her against him. She started and jerked upright, blinking sleepily. He refused to release her.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I was cold, and the fire felt nice, and I got a little sleepy…"

She still didn't understand her danger. He held her tightly. He was shaking in reaction. It took him a moment to realize that she was still shivering. She leaned on him, trying to burrow into his warmth. His first reaction was to get her a blanket. He knew where the closest one was. It was in his room. On his bed. Only a single door stood between them and his chambers. Somehow he didn't feel it was a good idea to open that door while he was alone with her. He didn't trust his own response to her.

"Well, come sit down by me," he said, bringing her to the couch. He sat and pulled her to his side. She curled up against him without complaint. His shadow draped over her. He made it emit a gentle body heat. She murmured appreciably, relaxing against him. He was very worried about her now. She wasn't acting like normal. Okay, the way she leaned on him was normal, but nearly falling into the fire and being cold wasn't. He touched her cheek, trying to be unobtrusive. She opened her eyes and pressed closer to him. His mouth went dry.

"Hi," she said, pleased and sleepy.

"Hi," he responded softly. Since he was already caught, he cupped his hand to her face. Her skin felt hot, but that could have been from the fire. He couldn't tell if she was feverish. His own skin was enflamed from being so close to her. He was acutely aware of her proximity. She was soft and smelled good. His bed was only a door away. If she was cold, he should take her to his bed and warm her with his body, under the covers. And should she feel grateful to him…

He swallowed hard, badly needing a distraction. "Would you like me to read to you?" he asked, reaching for the scroll on the table next to the desk. He had to drop his hand from her cheek, but that was for the best.

"That would be lovely, thank you," she murmured. Her eyes drifted shut again. He had to fight the urge to kiss her eyelids, her cheeks, her lips… His breathing turned ragged. As if aware of his thoughts, she shifted against him. He stifled a groan as she laid her head on his chest. Her hand covered his heart. Could she feel it pounding?

He cleared his throat, and began reading. He couldn't have said what he spoke. His eyes read the words and his mouth translated them into speech, but they didn't touch his conscious mind. He was too caught up in holding Persephone against him. Her shivers stopped as she warmed up. His voice seemed to reassure her further, for she slipped into sleep within a few minutes. He kept reading for a little while, reluctant to disturb her. Finally he set the scroll aside. He watched her yearningly, then finally succumbed to temptation. He leaned down and rested his cheek on her soft hair. Her rain and flower scent was a balm to his soul.

"What are you doing to me?" he wondered out loud.