Receiver of Many Ch. 04

The feel of his unseen hand stroking her filled her body with fire and familiarity, a longing she couldn't place for something she never knew she needed. Her hands and feet clenched and tingled, flames licking through her.

His winding finger moved faster. Every stroke of his hand against Kore's new-found epicenter shook her. Her lips, the tips of her breasts, her thighs twitched. Her voice wasn't hers anymore; it responded only to his caress. Every motion was a new thrill of pleasure. Something primal and inexorable began to wind within her, tightening every muscle of her body, searching, deepening, arching her closer.

Aidon felt her rising to him, her cries heating him and spurring him on. Her voice made his need a torture, unquenchable and unrelenting in his current form. He leaned over her and took the exposed nipple into his mouth and sucked it gently, driving her over an unseen edge.

Kore burst. Light danced behind her closed eyes and her head tilted back. She twisted and flailed, cried out his name and gasped, and the world fell away. Waves rolled through her as she felt his hand move away and travel up the length of her body to hold her. His lips teased along her cheek and she heard him breathing in time with her, steadying her body and supporting her until the tremors stopped and all she felt was his unseen hand grasping her arm.

"Persephone, I—" his voice shuddered.

Kore felt cool grass against her back, the soft earth beneath it supporting her, and then the caress of the wind was gone. He was gone. The grove was quiet once again, save for the sound of her heart beating in her eardrums.

* * *

Aidoneus materialized in his realm, and looked around in shock, drawn away from her against his will. He stumbled backward and slammed his palm hard on the edge of his ebony throne, regaining his balance. His knees were shaking. Desire for her had come with him. He looked down at his erect flesh straining against his loincloth and robes, and cradled it against his body, covering and protecting himself as he doubled over and gasped for air. His blood coursed through him like the molten river Phlegethon.

Aware of his presence, Hecate's eyes were closed, her brow knitted. "Aidoneus—"

"How dare you!" he bellowed, "Do you have any idea—"

"A very good idea, yes. But leaving you there with her would have been more dangerous than delicious, I'm afraid. There will be trouble..."

He watched her eyes tighten again as she concentrated, listening for a voice in the ether. He didn't have time for this. Hecate needed to take him back. Persephone needed him. He needed to see her. To hold her.

"I have to have her," he growled as he waited for Hecate to speak, willing his legs to carry him to where he could sit down. "I must have her. When the sun sets—"

Hecate flinched and cried out, startling him to silence. A voice piercing her mind— a wail of grief from the ether that was bending slowly into madness. "It will be too late!"

"What do you mean?"

"Demeter. She's coming for Persephone."

"She can't stand in my way; not now," he said, feeling his control slowly come back, his pulse steadying, his lust subsiding.

"She won't. Aidon, she will do worse. I understand now— I could feel her fear distilling into something sharp and desperate, but I was too focused on aiding your visit to Persephone. To keep you immaterial was not easy, with you in that state..." Hecate stood. "You are familiar with the tale of Daphne?"

A pregnant moment passed before his eyes grew wide. Realization and horror scalded him like acid and what little color he had drained from his face. "Gods above..."

He stood and strode across the room. Hecate followed him down the halls and corridors, running to keep pace. His himation shifted its form, winding around his body. The folds of fabric hardened, becoming the golden cuirass of his armor. Aidoneus had not worn it often, and never for its intended purpose since they cast Kronos into the Pit and ended the war. His long black cloak unfurled behind him as he stormed out to the courtyard. He reached through the ether as Hecate had taught him long ago and felt his helm materialize in his hand.

"Hades!" she said as he raised it over his head.

He spun on Hecate, his face contorted in rage. "I'll cast Demeter into the Pit if I have to!"

She started and drew back, then followed him again as Aidoneus continued his march. The corridor opened up into to the massive open stable yard of his palace, its floor made of concentric ringed cobblestones of black granite. He grabbed his iron standard from inside the gate and walked out to the center of the yard.

"This madness is not fixed by fate, Aidoneus! If Demeter reaches Persephone before you, be assured that the world will know her only for her slender branches and the gentle shade she gives. But such eternal changes have rules, and you can still prevent it. And you can save your bride in a more peaceful way than throwing the goddess of the fruitful harvest into the depths of Tartarus!"

He hammered the staff on the ground, the ringing echoing through the yard. Dark granite cracked beneath it, a glow of orange light radiating out from the point of impact. Aidoneus calmly strode back to Hecate's side as the stones fell away, lighting the room with reflected fire. She looked up at him, remembering aeons ago how Aidoneus had single-handedly convinced her and Nyx to support Zeus's cause during the war. That same taciturn warrior stood with her now, watching the rising smoke and listening to the approaching gallop of horses from the chasm.

"What way?" he said, finally.

Hecate looked into his eyes through the golden, black-crested helm that rendered him invisible to anyone he chose. She raised her voice as the ground beneath them started to shake. "Persephone can only be transformed that way if she is as Daphne was— intact."

Aidon's head snapped down to acknowledge the weight of what she said. A maelstrom of realization and trepidation ran through him, the helm barely hiding his emotions. "That's not how—"

With a shrill neigh, four dark coursers burst upward through the smoking gap, their manes and hooves sable black, their eyes glowing with fire. They pulled a great quadriga chariot behind them. It gleamed in the molten light from the chasm below, and then the ground started to close again with a grinding roar. The chariot had served Aidoneus well during the war, and would now serve him again. He returned the standard to the wall and stalked toward the cart. There was no time.

As Aidoneus grabbed the reins, a cloud of black smoke flowed out around the chariot, the chargers whinnying and stamping their feet. Hecate's voice rang out over the cacophony of the giant beasts. "If you love her, Aidoneus, if you want to save her, you will do what must be done!"

She watched from the gate as the chariot drove away. Aidoneus rode headlong for the living world and his Persephone.