This story contains scenes of both graphic sex and non-consensual sex and/or extreme violence. If you are disturbed by this type of scene or if you are underage, please read something else.
This story is not intended to violate any copyrights held by MCA, Universal Studios, Renaissance Pictures or any other entity involved in the making of Hercules: The Legendary Journeys.
The message came out of the blue.
It was just an ordinary day, if such a thing existed. Hercules and Iolaus were just passing through a small town in central Attica; Hercules had been talking about maybe visiting his mother, since they seemed to have time, when Salmonius accosted them with yet another get-rich-quick scheme, which (naturally) relied on Hercules' endorsement for its success.
"Salmonius..." Hercules raised his eyes to heaven as if looking for divine inspiration, "for the thousandth time, I am not...will you shut up!" That last was directed at Iolaus, who was having serious trouble holding back the giggles inspired by Hercules' attempts to refuse without offending the over-eager salesman.
"Sorry, Herc," Iolaus managed to say.
"So here's the slogan." Salmonius raised his hands in a grand gesture. They never discovered what his slogan was. Before the salesman could speak, a child, a little girl, came running up to them, almost bowling over Salmonius in her haste.
Hercules reached down and caught the child before she fell. He set her down on the ground in front of him, crouching down to talk to her. "Hey, what's all the hurry about?" A quick glance around had failed to reveal anyone she might have been running from.
She was out of breath, and just stared at the big man for a few minutes, panting. Hercules waited for her. Eventually, she puffed out, "Are...are you...Hercules?"
A brief frown crossed his face. That question was usually the start of trouble. "Yes, I am," he told her warily.
She gave him a gap-toothed grin and dug into a pocket. "Lady said to give you this," she announced, producing a folded scrap of parchment.
Hercules accepted it, but didn't look at it, not yet. "What lady?" he asked her.
"The lady at the temple." The girl, having completed her task, turned and scampered away.
"Hey, wait!" Hercules called after her. Temple? There's no temple near here. But she was gone, dodging between people too fast for even Hercules to catch her. Sighing, he unfolded the parchment. On it was a single symbol. Oh, by the gods... Hercules felt the blood draining from his face. He had to steady himself against the wall, the sudden flood of memories overwhelming him.
"So, what about my..." Salmonius spoke up as if nothing had happened.
"Salmonius, shut up!" Iolaus snapped. "Herc...what is it?"
Hercules looked up from the parchment. He hardly even saw Iolaus. "I have to go," he said, turning away abruptly.
"Hey! What about..." Salmonius was left behind as Hercules strode away.
Iolaus hurried to catch up with his friend. "Herc! Wait!" Hercules didn't even glance back. When Iolaus finally caught up with him, he had to grab his friend's arm to make him slow down. "What's going on?" he demanded.
Hercules finally slowed down enough to talk. "Iolaus, There isn't time to explain. I have to go."
"What's all this I stuff? I thought we did things together."
"I'm not sure that's a good idea, Iolaus. Hunters aren't exactly welcome where I'm going."
"What?" Iolaus shook his head, confused. "You're not making sense, Herc. Where - "
"Calydon Forest."
"Why?"
"I don't know, yet." Hercules kept walking, Iolaus kept following.
Calydon Forest. There were many stories about Calydon, and Iolaus knew most of them. The stories were inconsistent and contradictory, but they all agreed on one thing: Calydon Forest was the lair of a fearsome monster of some kind. Ironically, that was the one part of the story Iolaus had dismissed: surely if there was really a monster there, Hercules would have gone after it before now. But everyone knew Calydon was a place best avoided.
"I don't get it, Herc." Iolaus tried again. "What's that note? Why are we dropping everything for whoever sent it?" He moved around to stand directly in Hercules' path, blocking his way.
Hercules stopped walking and looked at him. "Someone needs my help, Iolaus. Don't I always drop everything for that?"
"There you go again. I. What happened to we?" It felt like a rejection of their friendship, and that hurt. "Don't you want me with you?"
Iolaus' words finally reached his friend. Hercules was silent for a long moment. "I feel like I shouldn't involve you," he tried to explain. "Because of where I'm going, because I don't know what I'll find when I get there. But it's up to you, Iolaus."
"Then I'm coming," he said firmly. "What's in that message?"
Wordlessly, Hercules handed him the parchment. Iolaus looked at the scrawled symbol. It was a circle and two crescents: one on either side of the circle. He stared at it, uncomprehendingly. He handed it back to Hercules, his confusion showing in his eyes.
Hercules tucked the parchment into his belt. "It's a reminder," he tried to explain, "of a debt. A very old debt." And although Iolaus tried to get him to talk, that was all he would say.
Hercules seemed intent on travelling all night. Iolaus, a mere mortal, couldn't possibly keep up the pace Hercules set for that long, and it was only Iolaus' obvious exhaustion that persuaded Hercules to stop and make camp. After a long drink of water and a meal, Iolaus felt rested enough to talk, at least. He was very worried about his friend. Sure, Herc was always one to drop everything if someone needed his help. This seemed different, somehow. It was as if Hercules knew more than he was saying.
Hercules had never lied to him, but Iolaus had known him to conceal the truth on occasions, or simply not mention something he thought his friend was better off not knowing. The incident with Nemesis was a perfect example. It had taken Hercules over a year to admit that all Iolaus' trouble that day had been set up by the gods' assassin. If he was doing the same thing now, Iolaus just had to find the right questions, and rely on the knowledge that Herc couldn't bring himself to lie. So, when he saw the opportunity, Iolaus raised the subject again. Hercules definitely didn't want to talk about it. He avoided Iolaus' first tentative questions, deliberately misunderstanding.
Suddenly Iolaus laughed. "You're embarrassed! That's what it is." He looked slyly at Hercules; the big demi-god wouldn't meet his eyes. That confirmed to Iolaus that his conclusion was the right one. "Oh, that does it, Herc. Now you've gotta tell me. Come on." He leaned forward with a grin.
"Alright!" Hercules gave in. "It's not embarrassing, Iolaus. It's not even a secret, really. It's just... something I don't discuss. I think you'll understand when you hear it."
Hercules took a deep breath and launched into the story. "I'm not sure how long ago...fifteen, maybe sixteen years, I was in Troy. The people had been driven out by Hera and her Blue Cult. I helped them reclaim their city. You know that story, right?" He glanced at Iolaus for confirmation. Iolaus nodded.
"Hera was determined to take Princess Deianeira as a sacrifice. At the end, when I stopped the sacrifice and killed the priest, Hera tried to take the girl directly." Hercules remembered the dreadful feeling of helplessness when he watched the brave, young girl being drawn up into the maelstrom of Hera's power. Zeus stood beside him; neither of them could stop it. Helplessness was replaced by rage when Deianeira's pleading eyes met his, and he had done the impossible: pitted his own strength against the power of the goddess and won. At a price.
Hercules saved the princess, throwing her into Zeus' arms and trusting the god to protect her, but he couldn't save himself. He remembered his terror when he realized Hera would take him instead of the girl; the certainty that this would be the end of his life; his desperate fight for breath as the maelstrom lifted him higher and higher. She could have killed him easily. For some reason - the only thing he could think of was Zeus must have intervened - Hera had allowed him to live. Hours, possibly days later she threw him back to earth. It was a fall no mortal could have survived. Hercules lay there for a few moments, just savouring the ability to breathe again, then he slowly picked himself up and looked around.
He had no idea where he was. There was no sign of a road, no sign of anything that would indicate the presence of people. He wasn't even sure he was in Greece. Only that he was no longer anywhere near Troy.
Since it seemed his only option, Hercules started to walk. By late afternoon he was travelling through thick forest, and he still hadn't spotted anything familiar. The journey was hard going: he was walking down a very steep hill, and the trees were so thick it was hard to check the position of the sun. Giving up, finally, he decided to make camp for the night. He found a small stream and drank, caught himself a rabbit and built up a fire to roast it. While his supper cooked, he sat down, by then glad for the rest. He was incredibly tired: the aftermath of his little adventure with Hera more than the result of the long walk. He closed his eyes.
A sound behind him made him suddenly alert. He turned, and saw a woman standing there. She wore a gown of white and silver, with a pendant of some kind between her breasts. She had an exotic kind of beauty: a mass of dark curls surrounded a face dominated by large, almond shaped eyes. With her lips curved in a gentle smile there was an air of serenity about her. She was also the first human being Hercules had seen since the decidedly unconventional way he left Troy. She didn't seem to be a threat, so he offered a welcoming smile.
It was she who spoke first. "You are in danger, traveller. This is not a safe place to remain after dark." Her voice was musical, pleasant to hear.
Hercules frowned slightly. "That's a rather vague warning. What's so dangerous?"
She took a few steps closer to him. "The Chimera roams Calydon wood at night. A sleeping man is easy prey."
Calydon? Is that where I am? Hercules didn't think he would be in much danger from this beast, but he was grateful for the warning. "What about you?" he asked her curiously. "Aren't you in danger from this...Chimera?"
"I will not be, when darkness falls." She looked worried. "Traveller, don't dismiss this warning, I beg you."
"I'm not sure I have any choice. I'm tired, I have to rest. How far will I have to go to get out of the forest?"
She was silent, watching him for a long while. Hercules was beginning to feel uncomfortable under her scrutiny and was wondering if she was going to answer when she spoke again. "It is not far to my home. You will be safe there."
It was not an offer made lightly, Hercules realized, and for the first time he began to consider that there might be real danger. "Thank you," he said. Was the danger from some beast, or from her, he wondered, remembering suddenly who had left him here. Uncertainly, he asked her why she wanted to help him.
A mysterious smile. "Because of what you are."
"And what is that?"
"Hercules. The Son of Zeus. The Slayer of the Hydra. The Enemy of Hera. The Liberator of Troy." She saw his eyes widen in surprise at that last. "Come, surely you don't fear me? I am merely a woman, alone, unarmed. I have no reason to wish you harm. If I did, I would have let you sleep here."
And there she had a point, he was forced to admit. Still somewhat wary, he accepted her offer.
She smiled again, the expression lighting up her face like magic. "Come, then. Bring your rabbit: it will feed two."
He did as she suggested, kicking earth over his campfire to douse it before he followed her.
Her name was Dione. The place she called her home was a small cave in the side of the hill, reached by a steep, rocky path. She obviously lived alone and clearly she knew how to take care of herself. There was no bed, but an area of the floor was covered with furs, padded with dried grasses and sweet-smelling ferns, and, incongruously, a number of silk cushions. At the back of the cave was something that looked very like an altar: a stone table covered with a cloth and decorated with flowers and four other items: a painted stone, a bowl of unlit incense, a single beeswax candle and a silver cup. If it was an altar, Hercules saw nothing that would indicate to which god or goddess it was dedicated. It put him on guard, but he decided not to ask: Dione would tell him if she wanted him to know.
Dione opened a chest, one of several lining one side of her cave, and drew out a couple of wooden plates and a knife. Before long, they were sitting down to a meal of rabbit, which she supplemented with fruit and some dried herbs Hercules couldn't quite identify: a rather salty flavour. It made for an excellent, and welcome meal, and Hercules thanked her.
She smiled at the compliment. "Thank you. I don't often have company."
"You live here alone?" Hercules' question was tentative. He was curious, but didn't want to offend her by prying too closely.
She nodded. "Since my mother died I have been alone here. That's..." she paused, thinking, "I'm not certain. At least seven years."
"And I'm the first person you've seen since then?" he asked her, incredulous.
"No," she corrected. "I warn anyone passing through the forest, just as I warned you. But of those who choose to ignore the warning, you are the first I thought worth saving. I won't protect reckless men from their own foolishness." Her voice hardened a little as she spoke and Hercules watched her with interest. Her soft way of speaking and her ready smiles gave the impression she was naïve, maybe a little helpless, but Dione was clearly neither. To have survived for so long, alone, she must be a remarkable woman. An unusual one, too: she didn't seem to miss human contact, although she'd said she was glad for his company. She was an enigma, and Hercules found himself intrigued by her.
Did she really live alone here? She had known his name, and seemed to know at least some of the many stories about him. If she had truly been alone for seven years that was impossible, wasn't it? And how had she known about Troy?
He asked her how she lived, and she seemed willing to answer, explaining to him how easy it was to live off the land, that since she was alone, she had time to search for food, to make the things she needed: bowls and baskets, tools. Hercules pointed out the few things in the cave that were clearly not made by her hands (a silver cup, some knives) and she told him they were old: her mother's things. She answered all his questions with a disarming forthrightness, but he couldn't help feeling she was concealing something.
While they talked, a full moon rose in the sky above the cave. In its light, they hardly needed the fire. After a while, Dione told Hercules he should sleep: she had noticed how tired he was. She offered him a blanket, but he refused: it wasn't a cold night, and the fire she kept in the cave's mouth supplied enough warmth. He did as she suggested, lay down and tried to sleep, but the questions spinning around his thoughts kept him awake. He heard her leave the cave, and knew a moment of worry: she had told him that a beast hunted here at night. Then he remembered that she'd lived here for years. Dione surely knew whether there was any danger. He tried to relax.
After a time, perhaps an hour, Hercules, still unable to sleep, heard Dione return. She went to the altar at the back of the cave. Hercules debated with himself: he didn't want to disturb her, but at the same time, courtesy dictated he should let her know he was awake. When the faint smell of incense reached him, he opted for staying exactly where he was.
He needn't have worried about eavesdropping. Dione began to chant, but her voice was so quiet he couldn't hear a word she said...and stopped himself when he realized he'd been straining to hear. A cool breeze blew into the cave and suddenly Hercules was aware of another presence. The last thing he knew before sleep rose up to claim him was the voice of a goddess speaking Dione's name.
Hercules awoke to find Dione in his arms. The full moon shone through the cave's entrance and he could see her face clearly: In the moonlight her skin seemed very pale, her eyebrows, arching above closed eyes, and her long eyelashes stood out in stark contrast. Her dark curls were in disarray, and her lips, slightly parted, showed the ghost of a smile. There was an unnatural quiet: none of the night-sounds he would expect in a forested area. Only her breathing and his own heartbeat broke the silence.
Perhaps because of that quiet, the night had a dreamlike quality...Hercules was not even certain he was awake. Surely he hadn't slept so soundly that she could have come into his arms and not disturbed him? Dione stirred in her sleep and moved closer to him; Hercules found himself holding her tenderly. A smile touched his lips as he gazed at her: Dione was a very beautiful woman. For a while he simply watched her. Then, purely on impulse, Hercules bent his head and kissed those inviting lips.
Her body stiffened in his arms as she woke suddenly. Her eyes flew open, and when she saw him he felt her relax once more, and she returned his smile. He caressed her face with his fingertips, her forehead, her soft cheek, her mouth and chin. He traced a line along her jaw to her ear, then ran his fingers through her dark curls as he bent to kiss her again. This time she responded as he'd hoped; her lips parted beneath his as his tongue sought hers. He took his time, exploring her mouth gently...the kiss was long, and deep, and intimate.
Dione's hand slipped beneath his shirt, moving over the hard muscles of his chest with a gentle, almost tentative touch. Before he knew what she was doing, his shirt hung open and she was pushing it from his shoulders. Hercules stopped kissing her long enough to help, then took her back into his strong arms. He held her close to him, enjoying the simple warmth of her body next to his. He kissed her lips, kissed every part of her face, while his hands moved over her body, shoulders and arms, the curves of her waist and hips...she guided his hand to her breast and he felt its warm fullness through the satin of her dress, felt the nipple contract beneath his exploring fingers, felt her breath warm on his face as she sighed her pleasure.
Hercules drew back then, his eyes seeking her consent before he moved to unlace her dress. He undressed her slowly, pausing to kiss her neck, her breast, her stomach as each was revealed to his sight. When she lay naked before him, he unbelted his trousers quickly. She reached up and moved his hands away, taking over the task herself. She ran her hands over the front of his trousers, feeling the hard bulge of his manhood beneath the leather before she finally allowed him to remove them. He lay beside her, their naked bodies touching, and bent to kiss her again.
She shifted in his arms as they kissed, her legs parting, inviting his entry. Hercules' mouth left hers, he left a trail of kisses as he moved down her neck to the hollow of her throat, further down her body to her breasts. He took one rosy nipple into his mouth, suckling gently, and as her soft moans encouraged him, with greater force. As he suckled first one breast, then the other, he let his hand wander down her body, exploring her stomach, her hips and thighs. Between her parted legs at last, his hand stroked the soft curled hair above her womanhood. She moved her hips against his hand and slowly, teasingly, he parted those soft folds, finding her hot and wet and ready. A wordless cry escaped her when he found the small, throbbing bump within her folds and began to rub. He raised his head from her breasts to look at her: her head was thrown back, dark curls spread out around, her eyes were closed, her cheeks flushed, her perfect lips parted as she gasped and moaned her pleasure.
Hercules had intended to wait, to hold himself back, give her as much pleasure as he could before taking his own. She surprised him, suddenly taking control and pushing him onto his back. Dione rolled over until he lay beneath her and she straddled his body, lowering herself onto his erect manhood. For a moment she was still, with him inside her, helpless beneath her, and Hercules groaned. He couldn't stand this, he had to move, to touch her. She began to move slowly and Hercules reached for her hips, guiding her movements. His hands moved up to her back and he sat up, holding her close until she sat in his lap, her legs around his waist and with his hardness buried deep inside her body. In this position he could barely move, but she could, and did, sliding up and down his shaft with slow, teasing strokes until he couldn't stand it any more. He kissed her hungrily and her rhythm changed, speeding up, her hips grinding against his as if she couldn't get enough of him.
She cried out again as the tide of feeling began to surge within her. Hercules opened his eyes, wanting to look at her as she came. Their eyes met and...something shifted. Whatever he had been feeling before, he was now feeling twice as much, even more. Her fingers on his skin as she held him were searing fire, her movements exquisite torture, her kiss beyond belief. He couldn't have held back if he'd wanted to, and didn't try. The wave crested and broke, they cried out their pleasure together, the climax mutual, incredible, exhausting.
Reality snapped back into place. Hercules held her close to him and she rested her head on his shoulder. He stroked her dark curls gently and after a few moments she raised her head, sought his mouth and kissed him. "Dione, that was..." he started to say, but she raised a finger to his lips, silencing him. He had no words for it anyway. They lay down together, she cuddled close to his warmth, her head pillowed on his shoulder. Hercules held her, watching the play of moonlight on her hair, until, some time later, they both slept.
Hercules woke slowly, sunlight and birdsong penetrating vague dreams to bring him to consciousness. Opening his eyes he found himself alone, and for a moment wondered why that should surprise him before he remembered. Had that incredible experience been real? Or could he have dreamed it? Fully awake, now, he sat up. He looked down at his unclothed body, looked at Dione's white and silver gown lying where he remembered leaving it and concluded that his memories of the night were real. Reaching for his leather trousers and boots he dressed quickly. He picked up his shirt, then changed his mind, walking barechested out of the cave.
He found Dione just outside, and stopped dead, a momentary fear clutching his heart.
Dione stood facing a huge beast. It looked more like a boar than anything else, but several times bigger: easily Hercules' height. Its coat was black, matted fur. Two, wickedly sharp, curved tusks protruded from either side of its mouth, and its breath came in regular, sharp grunts. Standing only a few feet away from the creature, Dione looked terribly small, vulnerable, the thin white dress she wore no possible protection.
Hercules tensed, ready to act, when she suddenly turned and saw him there.
Calmly, she met his tense gaze. "Don't be afraid," she said softly. Dione turned back to the beast, offering her hand. It moved toward her and she touched its snout between the tusks. It snorted and shook its head. Dione moved closer, put her arms round the creature and cuddled it.
Hercules just watched in amazement. Bizarrely, her actions brought to mind the image of a child playing with a puppy.
Dione spoke to the creature, her voice low. "No, silly. He's just a man. He'll be leaving soon." She paused, as if listening, then said, "He won't harm you. I promise." She turned back to Hercules, her hands still on the creature. "Hercules, he's afraid. Come here, let me prove you're a friend."
What else could he do? Hercules approached as she directed, slowly, keeping his eyes on the beast. She took his hand and made him touch the creature: its fur was wiry, but warm.
"There, that's better," she said with satisfaction. At her words, the creature turned and trotted away, leaving Hercules (a man more accustomed to slaying monsters than petting them) to stare at Dione, quite baffled by the scene he had witnessed.
She turned to him with a beautiful smile. <<Why so confused>>
He started. Had he really heard that?
<<Yes>>
"Dione?" Hercules stepped toward her, intending to take her into his arms. As she turned toward him, the sunlight flashed on the pendant she wore. Curious, Hercules reached for the silver disk, turning it over in his hand.
The pendant was inscribed with a symbol: three moons, waxing, full and waning. The sign of the goddess Hecate.
"Hecate is Hera's sister," Iolaus said.
Hercules nodded. "Yes, she is." He looked at his hunter friend's confused expression. "What's wrong?"
"This Dione is the one who sent that message, right?"
"Yes."
"And she serves Hecate?"
"Yes."
"Hera's sister?" Iolaus repeated. "Hecate was behind that she-demon that almost killed me."
Hercules frowned. He wasn't so sure about that. "Maybe she was. But don't assume it was Hecate just because someone told you so. Hecate is older than Hera and Zeus both. She plays by her own rules and acknowledges no king: not Hades as king of the underworld or Zeus as king of the gods. But she's not evil, Iolaus, just ...independent." Iolaus didn't look convinced. Hercules added, "And when I fought the she-demon, the only goddess I saw was Hera." He sighed. "It doesn't make any difference. I still have to answer Dione."
"Why?" Iolaus asked, still not convinced. "I mean, obviously you care about this woman, but I'm getting the feeling that there's more to it than that."
"You're right, there is. If you hadn't interrupted me, I'd have finished the story by now."
Iolaus flashed a grin. "Oh. Sorry."
Hercules thought for a few moments, then picked up his story. "Dione called herself Hecate's daughter. Not literally - she was fully mortal - but in a spiritual sense. She was more than just her priestess. I'll admit, Iolaus, when I first saw that pendant my reaction wasn't much different from yours..."
...But Dione had merely laughed off his vague fears. She had a gift, the power to share her thoughts and feelings with another. She had opened herself completely to Hercules, and within that contact there was no room for deceit, nor for doubt - on either side. An acquaintance that should have taken months was accomplished in minutes. Hercules learned of her joy in her simple, if solitary, life; of her deep bond with the creature he had seen - a bond of mutual protection; he learned of her love for her goddess...and he learned many other things besides, including the significance of their lovemaking the previous night. In the same way, she learned much of his life: his childhood, his friends, his adventures. This, Hercules realised, was how she had known him when they first met: she had peeked into his mind and discovered the information she wanted. Small wonder she had known about Troy: it had been very much on his mind. And Hercules hadn't even been aware of what she'd been doing. It should have offended him; instead he found he understood.
Hercules stayed with Dione for three more days - and nights. That first morning she had tried to encourage him to leave, but Hercules knew by then that she wanted him to stay longer. Dione told him that if he stayed, there would be a cost, a price to pay: such was the law of the goddess she served. Even with that warning, it hadn't been a difficult decision. Hercules had stayed, willingly accepting the unknown consequences. Those three days had been wonderful.
Wonderful didn't even begin to describe Dione. She was both powerful and frail, naïve and wise all at once, pure of heart, as generous with her body - and eager for his - during those days as she had been the first night. She showed him around her forest, its plants, its animals, its secret paths. They swam together in a pool she knew and made love at the water's edge.
She made no demands. Hercules and Dione both knew they had different destinies. He knew she could never leave Calydon, she had known from the start that he would have to leave. In the end, it was that knowledge that prevented him staying longer: leaving her behind was heartbreaking as it was.
She walked with him to the edge of the forest. Hercules didn't have to tell her how he felt: her empathic gift would be telling her far more clearly than any words of his. They stood at the edge of the trees, looking out into the world beyond - a world she had never seen. Hercules kissed her tenderly, one last time.
As Dione drew away from him, her hand lightly caressed his cheek, and for the first time he saw her sadness. Yet even through her tears she smiled. "You leave a part of yourself with me," she said quietly.
It was amazing how she managed to find exactly the right words for what he was feeling. He realised it was true. The peace of spirit he had known with her was something special, and a part of his heart was now hers: a love that, whatever might follow in his life, he would never lose entirely. Still holding her hands within his, he told her, "I will never forget you."
"I know," she whispered.
Most of this Hercules couldn't tell Iolaus. It was too private to share, and mere words could never convey the essence. But there was one thing he had to add to the story:
"Before I left, Dione asked me for a promise. A promise to return to Calydon if she needed me, no matter what else I was doing, whoever else needed my help. I had accepted there was a price for the time I spent there, and I gave her my word.
"This..." Hercules held up the scrap of parchment he had been given, "...is Dione's summons. Iolaus, it wouldn't matter if Hera and Ares both are waiting for me. I have to go to her."
Iolaus absorbed this speech in silence. He glanced at his friend. Hercules was leaning back against a tree, staring at the waning moon above their heads. In his hands, a piece of wood Hercules had absently picked up was being mercilessly shredded to pieces.
"You're really worried, aren't you?" Iolaus said finally.
Not looking at him, Hercules answered. "It's been so long, Iolaus. Fifteen years. Something terrible must have happened for Dione to send for me now." His eyes were fixed on the waning moon.
Miles away, under that same moon, a woman waited. The waning moon symbolised endings, death, decay. Her time was short. With shaking hands, Dione raised a cup to her lips. The golden liquid slid down her throat and she sighed with relief, her physical pain receding for a time. With effort, she moved to the cave's mouth, raising her eyes to the moon's narrowing crescent.
"Hecate, help me," she begged aloud. "There is so little time. Dark Lady, let him come soon." And one more word, before the oblivion of sleep overtook her. "Hercules..."
His name is a prayer, a fading hope.