That's What Friends Are For

By Sandman

Iolaus gasped as they broke through into the clearing. The travel through the dense woods had been rough, the trees extraordinarily close, and the undergrowth thickly peppered with briars. Iolaus could hear tiny feet scurrying through the safety of the thorny vines. Though his arms had been scratched and ripped he had no rabbit to show for it, only the reddened marks and deep rumbling from within that foretold his empty stomach.

The clouds had been rolling in thicker than the briars, gray and heavy with the foreboding of pounding sleet or snow. Iolaus had felt the temperature dropping all afternoon, and knew the morning would find the ground frozen solid. But now, in the shadow of the largest wooden structure either of them had ever seen, Iolaus felt the sheer relief that comes in having a place to shelter after a rough day in the face of a potentially worse night.

The killing frost had been over a month ago, and nights had grown increasingly cold. All the trees had dropped their leaves, only to be adorned with a hoary coat of frost each morning instead. Daylight had dwindled as well, leaving the earth cold and hard, the air icy. Winter was coming on and they needed shelter for the night. It was as simple as that.

Hercules stared first at the huge abandoned building in front of them, then back at Iolaus.

"How did you find this?" he asked incredulously.

"I heard about it when I was kid!" Iolaus declared excitedly. "It's a legend."

"A legend?" Hercules echoed skeptically. "Then how come I don't know about it?"

Iolaus stared across at the building, wooden slats starting to crumble away near the foundation, and window shutters hanging at cocked angles. The chimney was crumbling and the roof wasn't quite level, but the walls were intact and the door still had its latch and hinges.

"I figured you'd never believe me. Besides that was when we traveled in different circles. It was my friends from the streets that told me about it." He paused, lips tight as he thought about the past that he'd tried so hard to push behind himself. "I guess I didn't want to bring it up. Anyway it never seemed to make it into our conversations."

Hercules nodded. "I see," was all he said as the wind whipped across his shoulders and lifted his hair, sending it ruffling sharply against his neck. He crossed his arms and stared at the building they would call shelter for the night. It was three stories tall, rambling across the better part of a large clearing, and he could see that it was wide, with an ell toward the back. The roof was slate, rather than the shingle or thatch, and the outside was made of long planks of wood laid sideways rather than the traditional up and down.

It wasn't in the very best shape. Wooden slats were slipping off the sides like a snow ball on a hill. The slate roof was missing its share of tiles and it didn't seem quite level. Be that as it was, it looked solid enough to weather the coming storm in, at least Hercules hoped so.

Iolaus hugged his arms tightly around himself, pulling the winter cloak of rabbit fur tighter to his body. The house looked anything but inviting. It was dark and cold and even as the sun dipped to the horizon the shadows cast by the stark trees did nothing to improve its appearance.

"Let's go see if the hearth is working at least," Hercules suggested hopefully, noting the blue cast to Iolaus' skin.

The door was sticky, swollen by the moisture in the air and the age of the wood, but it gave when Hercules pulled, swinging outward with the mournful groan of an old woman rising from her chair, and it stuck on the bowed wood of the dilapidated porch though it was less than half open.

"Well, I guess it won't blow open too far," Iolaus joked as he turned sideways and slipped through the aperture.

The inside of the house was dark, with the scant light of the setting sun barely fingering through the cracks where the shutters no longer aligned. The air was musty, thick with the scent of wet dirt and mold and off to the left Iolaus heard the pattering of little feet, and a scurry to silence. He stepped further in, turning to the right, near where the chimney stood on the outside.

The hearth was free of ashes, but far from clean. Iolaus sniffed his fingers after he touched the cool of the rock flooring and smelled no tar or oil residue from a recent burning. His hand absently stroked the heavy flat rocks that lined the opening, finding them still intact. Satisfied that the fire pit was safe, He turned to where Hercules blocked the last of the light filtering in through the door.

"Better go get some fire wood. I think we can use this."

"Maybe we should make sure this place is safe," Hercules started, but Iolaus cut him off.

"Herc, it will be dark soon. You won't be able to find any dry wood with no moon light. You have to go now." He could see the grim set to his friends jaw, and then softened his voice. An empty stomach and frozen body made him unnecessarily sharp.

"I'll be okay," he reassured his friend. "The door was sticky so no one's been here in ages. Besides, the stone hearth is cold. Don't worry."

Hercules nodded. He didn't mean to be over protective, or condescending. Iolaus was right. Time was of the essence. They needed to get a fire going soon, before night fell and the clouds opened. Iolaus would be fine. Iolaus could get the packs open and set up, check out the house and see if anything of use still remained.

Iolaus watched as Hercules trotted back down the path and into the edge of the woods before he turned and went fully into the house. The musty air was still for the most part, except where the cold of the outdoors fought its way in through the cracks. Iolaus turned in a slow circle, disturbing the dust, which raised and caught in the gusts. A loose piece of wood banged sullenly and rhythmically on the outside, sounding every bit like the house's heartbeat.

Iolaus paced the length of the room, taking in the fireplace first. He tucked his head into the belly of the hearth and stared up through the chimney to make sure it was clear. He could see a couple of bird nests, but no inhabitants. It would suffice thank the gods.

That decided, he turned to further explore the huge old home. The entrance area was one large room, with a stone floor instead of the usual hard packed dirt, although he wouldn't have known that if he hadn't scraped his boot through the thick dust that glazed the long flat, tightly packed slabs. And the ceiling was far higher than he expected. Iolaus jumped, trying to palm it, but fell just a little short. He turned in the gathering darkness, wanting to open the shutters of a window for even a little light, but stopped himself. It would be foolish to let the damp chill of the night air rush fully in when the whole purpose of the stop here was to shelter. It would be cold enough with the stone floor and high ceilings, and even a roaring fire would just take the edge off the chill.

He scanned the vast emptiness, spotting a staircase to the second floor. Interesting. In most homes ladders were the norm, and only to a loft, not a whole other story. The people who built this home must have had a lot of dinars. But why did they leave it and why wasn't anyone else ever here? Iolaus had heard that the place was haunted, but that was when he was a kid, and the other boys had wanted to scare him. That was what Iolaus hadn't told Hercules.

He put the thoughts behind him and ascended the staircase, stepping lightly and feeling the give of the old wood beneath his feet, listening to the groans of protest as the steps tried to spring back level. The hand rail was wobbly and Iolaus thought it would be better not to put any weight on it. He continued his ascent carefully, aware of the whistle of the winds growing and beginning to crescendo to a howl. He felt the tremble of the wooden timbers as the night fell and the force of the weather pressed on the old house. And he could smell moisture, cold and sharp rising where the house sagged and the boards gave.

When Iolaus reached the top he was struck by the darkness. Here the windows were shuttered tighter, and the roof had no leaks. He turned his head, letting his body circle cautiously as he took in the new surroundings. The area smelled like dry mold, dust and old hay, long dried. He let his eyes accommodate to the dark standing silently and letting his senses take in what house gave. It was old, like a village elder with much to say and no one to listen. Tired too, but despite that still standing. It should have either been occupied and kept up or long ago crumbled to the ground, yet here it stood, the reputed haunted house of Iolaus' youth.

As his eyes adjusted, Iolaus stepped forward, ever aware of loose boards or protruding pegs. It was dusty here too, but the lack of breeze kept the dust motes stationary and consequently it had built up like a filthy carpet, solid and free of footprints. Iolaus let his feet make a trail as he walked along a hallway, slowly checking to see if there was anything he and Hercules could safely use for the night. The first opening he saw was a Moroccan shaped door, arched and exotic, and totally foreign to the area.

Iolaus stood quietly, feeling the dead silence and knowing that he was alone. Still, instinct made him hesitate for an instant before he entered the room. He peeked around the corner, then sensing nothing threatening he stepped inside.

This was by far the darkest of the rooms, and with the sun dropping below the horizon quickly, it was steeped in shadow. The shuttered windows stood like stark scabs against the gray of the walls. Iolaus noted with interest the addition of floor vents in the room, so the heat from the downstairs hearth would filter upward. He had to admire the person who had designed this home.

The rest of the second floor proved similarly void of useful objects. Iolaus trod carefully and silently through the empty rooms. It was when he reached the far end of the hall that he first heard it, a sound he initially took to be the wind picking up, but the more he listened, the more he realized that it was nothing of the sort. It sounded more like the wail of a grieving woman.

Iolaus spun back around and tried to follow the sound, but instead of localizing it, he seemed to be surrounded by the rising and falling of the pitiful sound. The air was suddenly icy, feeling dynamic around him at once, but not stirring a single piece of the eons worth of dust at his feet, or even causing a cobweb to stir. Iolaus was sure no wind seeped in the shuttered windows or up the floor grates, yet the wailing rose and fell, then choked back and silence fell like a heavy fog while Iolaus stood still waiting.

The house creaked and somewhere downstairs another shutter loosed in the wind, banging an atonal rhythm against the weathered outside. Iolaus could hear his own soft breaths and feel the power of his heart beating beneath his ribs as he stood silently, waiting to see what was next.

The door slammed below and the silence was broken.

"Hey! I've got the wood."

Iolaus shook his head. Certainly whatever spirit was manifesting itself in this house wouldn't come back very quickly if Hercules kept bellowing like that. Iolaus bounded down the stairs leaving small dust clouds in his wake.

"Hey Herc, nothing upstairs we can use, but you'll never guess what I heard."

"The wind? Because it's really picking up and I though I felt a few flakes of snow."

"Nah, at least I don't think so. I heard someone crying, but there's no one there."

Hercules dropped the bundle of wood and kindling he carried near the mouth of the fireplace. A few stray pieces rolled free of the main pile clattering away from the hearth. Iolaus swept his foot against them almost automatically, herding them back to the larger pieces.

Hercules bent down and began piling the wood and kindling into the fireplace. "What do you think the sound was? A voice? But there's no one here except us, right?"

"I didn't see anyone, and I checked the whole upper floor. Hey did you know this house has vents to carry the heat upstairs? Maybe the noise was from here, but drifted up there."

Hercules turned away from the bundle of wood and turned a puzzled look in Iolaus' direction. "But there weren't any new footprints were there?"

Iolaus bit his lower lip. He would have noticed if there were, he was sure of that. A lifetime of hunting and tracking had impressed on him a keen eye for detail.

"No, but I know it wasn't an animal cry."

"The wind then?" Hercules querried, concern in his voice. He and Iolaus had heard enough wind in their travels to know its many voices.

Iolaus shook his head. He hated to sound crazy, but in his heart he knew he couldn't keep a secret from Hercules.

"I've always heard this place is haunted."

Hercules raised an eyebrow and waited silently for Iolaus to continue.

"The rumor was that as the days got longer, the house became noisier. Summering here was something a few of us did once and a while. You know, berries in the woods, lots of hunting, plenty of food and shelter. It was a safe place for a runaway. But no one stayed here after the Autumnal equinox."

"You're serious," Hercules observed. "Then why did you come here tonight?"

The blonde met his friend's eyes. Because I don't believe it's haunted. Because we needed a place to stay. Because I couldn't bear the thought of sleeping on the ground in bad weather when there was adequate shelter nearby." He crossed his arms on his chest. "And because what could be here that was worse than a Hydra?"

"Hera," Hercules muttered and immediately felt sorry. "No, that couldn't be," he backpedaled. "That one has nothing to wail about."

Iolaus nodded but Hercules could see that the smaller man wasn't buying his last comment.

"Look, we've done ghosts before. They aren't any scarier than you are when you get up too early and have an empty stomach. And we've done angry gods too." Hercules slapped Iolaus on the back. "There's a storm brewing, so let's light a fire and settle in for the night."

Iolaus nodded. Those were kids' stories anyway, and he and Hercules weren't scared or lonely or overly hungry. But they were cold. So Iolaus pulled out a small piece of flint from inside his vest and struck it sharply with the blade of his knife as he bent closely over the wood Hercules had taken care to keep dry.

The hunter had a roaring fire going in only a matter of minutes. He spread his rabbit fur cloak on the floor near the hearth and plunked down on it, patting the spot next to him.

Hercules sat on the soft warm cloak and leaned against his friend, thankful for the warmth that they could share.

"So, no food, huh?" Iolaus ventured, thinking of the rabbit that had gotten away.

"No food," Hercules agreed.

Iolaus sighed, leaning toward the fire and extending his hands to the heat. Even with the fur down he could feel the cold stone through his leather trousers. His stomach rumbled. No matter, he'd been hungry before plenty of times. In the morning he'd catch two rabbits, and maybe a quail or even a squirrel. Didn't matter, they all tasted like chicken anyway.

He lay back with a heavy sigh and felt Hercules follow the cue.

Herc, you know what tomorrow is?"

Hercules stared at the ceiling and Iolaus watched the big man study the pattern of the wood there.

"Winter Solstice," Hercules spoke quietly. He'd forgotten about it really, and the realization made him embarrassed. No gift for Iolaus. No gift for his mother.

"Think we'll make to Alcemene's for the feast?" Iolaus didn't try to hide his excitement. "Yeah, no one cooks like you mother. I can just taste it! Cakes, pies, cheese and homemade bread. And meat! And Jason will be there, Iphicles too, and who knows who else!" Iolaus sighed in happiness. "It will be wonderful."

"I'm sure she's looking forward to seeing you," Hercules answered, knowing how his mother loved to watch Iolaus eat.

"Yeah, I'll bet," Iolaus answered enthusiastically. "I'll make up for no supper tomorrow."

"That I truly believe," Hercules answered as he looped an arm around his best friend.

The room grew dark as the sun slipped below the horizon, lit only by the flickering incandescence of the fire, the corners became invisible and nothing existed beyond the rabbit fur cloak the two men rested on. And as their eyelids grew heavy Hercules tossed the biggest log on the fire, hoping it would last the night.

"G'night," Iolaus murmured, snuggling closer to Hercules.

**

Iolaus didn't sleep well. He was awoken repeatedly by what sounded for all the world like the groans and cries of a woman in distress. Twice he got up and paced the house, walking silently in the darkness but finding nothing. And during the night a howling storm rushed across Greece, its winds causing the skeletal tree limbs to flail, adding a basso profundo to the chorus of noises. Iolaus checked through the cracks in the windows with dismay to see the snow piling up outside, and felt his hopes for a good meal at Alcemene's diminishing. He threw some extra wood on the fire, jabbing at it to settle it into the old wood before he plopped back down on the fur and waited for the next chorus.

**

Gods it was cold! Even Hercules felt it, sitting up with a shiver and wishing he'd worn more substantial clothing. Iolaus must be frozen, he thought, chancing a glance over at the blonde man.

Iolaus looked scruffy with a new growth of beard. His lids were heavy and there were deep circles under his eyes. He shivered miserably over to Hercules, his breath coming out in small visible puffs of white.

"What?" Hercules asked, seeing the look of accusation on Iolaus' face.

"How could you sleep through all that racket?"

Hercules shrugged and answered Iolaus wide eyed. "What noise?"

Iolaus groaned. "The shrieking, the groaning, and that's not the worst of it. Look out the window."

Hercules stood, shaking off the last of his sleepiness and drew his vest tighter around his chest. Tartarus! He felt like an ice berg! His feet protested as he left the fur and stepped on to the stone floor. Whoever thought that stone would make a decent floor had to have been out of his mind.

The demigod reached for the poorly shuttered window and pushed it open, feeling the shattering of icicles and he drew a quick breath. It had gotten colder than he thought. Iolaus had been right last night to seek shelter wherever they could find it. The window swung open and Hercules had to shade his eyes from the brightness.

There was snow everywhere! The tree boughs hung heavily, some grazing the top of the sparkling blanket of white that was hip deep and still falling. The sky swirled, coming alive with the parade of frozen flakes. Hercules stared mutely at the dizzying spiral of snow which danced its silent ballet, pirouetting to smother the earth and all the noises she held in her bosom.

He turned to find Iolaus at his back, gazing across at the expanse of white.

"It's not stopping. Another night here I guess." He sighed heavily.

It will make finding more firewood a problem," Hercules commented thinking that with nothing piled, everything would be wet.

"And hunting," Iolaus added, his stomach adding in its protest.

"I think we'll be cold and hungry tonight." Hercules set his mouth grimly.

"Maybe if we really push ourselves, we can make it to your mom's before we freeze to death," Iolaus added hopefully, tipping his head up to see Hercules' reaction.

The bigger man turned his face down and stared thoughtfully at his blonde friend. Had he been alone, Hercules would have thought more seriously about trying to make it home, but he knew that Iolaus didn't have the same stamina as he did, and with his shorter legs, Iolaus would have to work all that much harder to keep pace. It would take too long, given that all they had was the one rabbit pelt cloak between them.

"The snow's picking up. I think we're safer here. Mom and Jason won't mind if we're a day late."

"Aw Herc, tonight is winter solstice!" Iolaus stared morosely out at the curtain of blowing white flakes, so powdery and soft, so beautiful yet so deadly. Weather like this could freeze or smother a man as surely as it was doing the same to all the green life that had struggled to hold on yesterday. And although Iolaus had weathered many a storm outside, he didn't relish the idea of doing so in one as fearsome as this.

Iolaus sighed as Hercules clapped a hand on his shoulder. He couldn't help but note how warm and strong the demigod's grip was. The decision was made. It would be a quiet solstice for them.

"Maybe we can go outside and see if there's anything we could use. Even a log from the bottom of the pile would help."

Hercules nodded. Best they go out now, before the door would be sealed by the rising snow. Tonight would be long, and cold.

**

Iolaus walked as stealthily as the snow allowed. Birds could stand on the snow, and even rabbits were light enough to put mere soft exclamation marks on the soft top of the white drifts. If he was quiet and observant, maybe they'd have one meal today.

Small prints marred the surface of the snow, but the torrent of flakes seemed to erase them as fast as Iolaus could follow. And every thing looked the same, a picture in black and white and gray, beautiful yet monotonous. The air was so still and woods so silent that Iolaus felt smothered by the feeling of being totally alone.

A small bird arose from its hiding place among the branches, a tiny gray thing that matched the weather. It flew with a wobble as its wings caught the competing winds, tossing it askew before it righted its path. Iolaus sighted it with his bow, the arrow aimed true. But instead of letting the arrow slice through the frigid air, he allowed his arms to drop. He was hungry, but the bird was simply too small. And besides, Iolaus had to admire the courage of such a defenseless creature taking flight in such a powerful storm.

He watched as the bird became nothing more than a speck of darker gray and then melted into the sky. Pulling the cloak tighter across his shivering shoulders he stood silently and surveyed the woods. Things were beginning to look the same throughout. The trees all pointed skyward like a school teacher's finger, admonishing him to learn from what was happening around him. The sky mottled gray and white, while huge puffs of sticky wet flakes swirling angrily like words that could never be taken back. Iolaus knew it was time to turn around before he got lost.

He slogged wetly through the thigh deep drifts, knowing that if an animal was to come past, he could never chase it. He'd have to get a good bead and a clean kill, and though he was capable of that, he doubted the chance would come his way. Every creature would know to take shelter. He felt the deep chill of wet leather on his legs, creeping up closer to his groin as the drifts grew taller and hoped that Hercules would have had better luck in finding firewood.

**

Hercules stoked the fire with the last of the wood he'd managed to dig from the sole pile he'd found the night before. The bark was damp in spots and the fire sputtered and waned at times, becoming more smoky than warm, but the two men felt lucky they had even this much. The huge old house was cold and empty and darker by the moment as the clouds covered the sky and the sun trailed lower in the western sky.

Iolaus sat shivering in front of the dwindling fire, his cloak pulled tight about him while Hercules worried. Wet clothes and a cold house spelled hypothermia. He could see Iolaus' teeth chattering and the shiver that shook his compact frame. The golden curls still hung in limp damp ringlets and his thin lips were cyanotic. There was no way the wet leather pants would dry tonight, or the vest and rabbit cloak would provide enough warmth. Hercules knew that the only thing the house sheltered them from was the wind, and Iolaus needed more than that.

Outside the storm continued to rage, sending tendrils of icy wind through the ancient shutters and banging any loose boards in arrhythmic pounding that shook the framework and caused the fire to sputter lower. Snow drifted in where a window sagged. The roof above the second floor groaned from the weight of the snow on the roof.

"Happy Solstice," Iolaus tried to grin but his teeth were chattering too hard. "The moment should be rolling through soon."

Hercules nodded. Not long after dark falls, I believe," he answered.

Iolaus curled tighter under the rabbit fur cloak. "Sit next me Herc, stop pacing."

Hercules rubbed his mouth and nodded. He poked the fire with a stick one more time, causing the old wood to collapse and a bit of unburned wood caught flame. The ashes fell to the hearth and Hercules thought with concern that the last of the dry kindling would be gone in only a few minutes.

He sat close and Iolaus threw the rabbit cloak off his own shoulders and across Hercules, cocooning the two of them tighter against the impending cold. He felt Iolaus press tight against him, sharing the warmth of the cloak and taking in return some of the demigods body heat. Hercules swallowed hard to fight back the emotion that welled from within. Iolaus was leaving himself half exposed when it was really he who needed the protection of the fur cloak more.

"Iolaus," he managed as the fire died.

The wind moaned, the tree branches creaked and the house seemed to sag in response.

Iolaus sat quietly watching as the last embers faded, wishing he was sitting next to a roaring fire in Alcemene's home, listening to Jason's laugh and feeling the warmth of a full belly, a glass of wine in his hand and Hercules at his side. Well, at least he still had Hercules at his side.

>From far into the house a groan started, becoming a cry and finally a shriek. Hercules stood suddenly, turning around defensively.

"Sit," Iolaus declared with finality. "That kept me awake all night. I paced the place repeatedly to no avail. There's no one here. It's just the storm."

Hercules shook his head and stood, circling slowly with his head cocked listening. The noise faded away and he let himself sit thoughtfully next to Iolaus, perplexed.

"That's not the wind," he declared.

"The place is empty," Iolaus protested.

"Yes it is, but that wasn't the wind."

"Herc," Iolaus protested through chattering teeth. "That haunted story is old."

"No doubt." Hercules paced, letting the room grow silent once more. He moved with panther like grace to the window and peeked through one of the loose shutter boards. Satisfied that there was no one else outside, he padded back to Iolaus' side and dropped down next to him.

The two men watched as the last of the wood was swallowed by the dying flames, leaving them alone in the cold darkness.

"Guess it's Solstice 'bout now," Iolaus commented wryly.

"Guess so." Hercules sighed. "Happy Solstice, Iolaus." He wrapped an arm around his friend's shoulder.

"What do you suppose Alcemene is doing now? And Jason?" Iolaus leaned against Hercules, feeling the warmth emanating from the bigger man.

"Mom will understand. It's probably pretty bad all over Greece. But Mom will still be worrying, even if she won't admit it."

Iolaus nodded. Solstice was about family, about being together, about starting the cold months in the warmth and love of true friendship. Even the food was simply an extension of caring and providing for others. He wished he was with Alcemene right now, listening to the tinkle of her happy laughter. And Jason, whose delight
pealed forth in bursts of laughter when the three men talked about their past adventures, and misadventures. Holidays like Solstice were for reliving the wonderful moments of the past and talking about hopes for the future.

Iolaus nodded, and although Hercules could barely see him in the rapidly falling night, he could feel the wet curls bob against his shoulder and the shiver of his muscles against his own.

"I got you a gift Herc, but it's back at Alcemene's."

"I got you one too Iolaus, but it's probably enjoying the company of your gift."

"You know Herc, I think this is the worst storm I've seen in a long time," Iolaus commented through chattering teeth.

"I was thinking that too," Hercules spoke softly, listening to the howl of the wind and the groan of tree branches laden with snow. But there was more than that. Hercules heard the deeper voice, not just a moan but also a cry of pain that ran so deep that it struck his soul.

"Demeter!" He declared. This was the work of Demeter.

Iolaus shivered next to him, and Hercules could feel the growing chill in his body. Of course! Demeter was mourning Persephone, on this the longest night of the year. Demeter missed her family too. And Hercules knew that he and Iolaus could become casualties of her pain as well.

"Demeter!" Hercules bellowed.

The moaning grew louder, seeming to fill the house, becoming one with the intensifying storm. The room grew colder and the dust swirled around like eddys in the water as the presence of the Goddess responded to Hercules' cry.

Iolaus was used to gods arriving in strange ways. Aphrodite had her hearts twinkling around her; Ares blazed in or just appeared like a stealth attack. Even Callisto flamed into appearance. But Demeter's appearance was startling. At first there was nothing but a cold that was so frigid it cut straight to the bone, seeming to envelope the two men in a cocoon worse than the storm outside. The cold stayed, but no longer invisible, it took on the appearance of a green mist, swirling around them, ebbing and flowing like a tidal undulation. Finally the mist pulled away, forming a tower and settled into the shape of the Goddess Demeter.

Iolaus gasped at her appearance. She was drawn and gaunt, not the motherly figure Hercules had told him about. She had deep circles under her reddened eyes and her cheeks were hollowed and shoulders stooped. She appeared neither giving nor fertile, and with the snow falling as hard as it was, Iolaus knew that the grain crops, along with most of the Greek agriculture would soon be dead.

"Demeter," Hercules spoke softly, and placed a hand on her gaunt shoulder. "You need to make this stop."

"I can't," she whispered. "It is my heart and spirit which brings the prosperity to the farmers. And my heart is breaking, my spirit sagging." She pulled away from Hercules and stared with empty eyes into the cold hearth.

Iolaus listened, hearing the wail of the wind echoed in her voice. This storm could go on forever, or at least until Persephone came back to her. And that worried Iolaus. But a plan formulated in back of his mind, and it was one that he thought just might help them stay alive. And maybe save a few of the last crops. He quietly padded off, heading for the relative solitude of the upper floor.

Hercules cast a curious glance in Iolaus' direction, but trusting his friend he turned away and walked to Demeter's side.

"You miss Persephone," he comforted. "As well you should. A mother needs to spend time with her daughter."

"You brokered the agreement!" Demeter spun around, not bothering to hide her pain. "And now I'm alone." Her voice dropped as she tried unsuccessfully to keep her tears from falling.

"Demeter, it was Persephone who wanted to stay with Hades, and I ensured that you and she would have at least half the year together."

"Half a year away is too long," the goddess choked.

"But a life time is worse," Hercules answered with a choke in his throat.

"And if you're immortal?" Demeter questioned.

Hercules swallowed his pain back down, like a hard olive pit going down too quickly to be spit back out.

"You couldn't measure the pain." Hercules cast his eyes down, blinking hard and trying to think about anything but Deineira and the children. He moved closer to Demeter and looped an arm around her shoulder.

"She's everything to me. I loved to watch her sleep, so peaceful, her hair trailing softly across her shoulders. And her laughter makes my heart leap for joy. All these
eons, she's been everything to me. She was my life. And now," Demeter choked back a sob, covering her face with her spindly fingers. "I feel like I no longer have the joy I need to do my job."

"It will get better," Hercules promised. "Tonight marks the halfway point. Each day gets closer to Persephone's return to you."

"You're right." She agreed. "I know that in my mind, but my heart"- - -

"Your heart is where it is supposed to be." Hercules comforted. "And your mind as well. No one ever said this would be easy. But compromise is learning to accept that you made the right decision for not only yourself, but Persephone as well."

Demeter leaned into Hercules. "Hera's wrong. The gods do need you. You have a unique perspective that bridges the gulf between mortals and the Olympians."

"Thank you," Hercules answered simply, knowing that it was the losses he had sustained that had made him strong and sympathetic as well. And it was his friendship with Iolaus that had sustained him, and the love of his family which had kept him going. Demeter needed this as well. The gods had crafted him unknowingly into more than he would have been without their interference.

Demeter looked up at him, eyes still moist and lips upturned in a very slight smile. As she did, the fire sprang back up in the hearth, which was suddenly filled with large dry oak logs. The flames danced warmly, casting a magical glow to the room.

Hercules looked around, realizing that the cold air was no longer gusting and the shutters weren't banging. He could still hear the storm raging, but the house somehow seemed more secure. The scent of balsam wafted on the warm air and Hercules looked up to see that the mantle of the fireplace was decorated in pine boughs, and that pine drapings adorned the walls, now gleaming with fresh paint. The ceiling was no longer peeling and the dust was gone from the floor.

The decrepit house was not a poor shelter, but a beautiful mansion.

Demeter!" Hercules gasped in surprise.

"Not my work," the goddess answered, not bothering to hide the surprise in her voice. "It's beautiful! It looks just like it did years ago when Persephone was small." The goddess smiled a new softness in her face. "She used to say that someday she would get married here. But that of course never happened." She turned slowly, taking in the stunning décor. "It's just as she described!"

Hercules felt decidedly uncomfortable. If Demeter hadn't done this, then who did? And where was Iolaus anyway?

"But then that nasty Strife tried to have his way with her and she narrowly escaped. She would never come back and I let the place go to pieces. This was her playhouse, where she could pretend to live like one of the mortals and then when her imagination failed her for the day, she could come back to Olympus."

"Uh, Demeter- - -this place has a certain, uh, reputation."

Demeter smiled and shook her head. "That was my idea. I wanted to make sure the mortals stayed away and Persephone had her privacy."

"It worked," Hercules admitted. "But what just happened?"

A giggle filled the silence in the large house, followed by two sets of footsteps descending the stairway from the second floor. Torches flared to life, further illuminating the vast lower level and even more decorations. Balls of Mistletoe dangled from velvety ribbons on the door lintels. Exquisitely woven rugs in festive red, green and gold started appearing on the floor. Evergreen drapes festooned every window and door, which were of course perfect. Out side the snow seemed to fall softer and lighter, just the picture of a beautiful winter night, no longer a howling blizzard.

"You like?" Aphrodite giggled again as she descended the stairs wearing her best pink peignoir set, her slender arm slipped gently through Iolaus'. "I rock! Hey you need a party, just send Sweet Cheeks asking so nicely I can't refuse."

Aphrodite stepped onto the floor and walked away from Iolaus and over to Demeter.

"No one should be unhappy on the Solstice," she cooed. "And though I LOVE the snow and the cold drives people to cuddle ever so much closer, this is TOO much!" She shivered and with a nod of her head a sheer robe appeared over her shoulders. "I'm going to have to cover up!" she whined. "And you know how I hate that!"

Demeter smiled and reached out a hand to Aphrodite's arm. "Thank you so much. This is beautiful. But how did you know"- - -

"Look up the stairs!" Aphrodite giggled.

Demeter turned her gaze from the Goddess of Love's face and let it follow a path to the top landing.

"Persephone!" she gasped as she almost fell to her knees at the view of her daughter smiling serenely on the arm of her husband.

"Mom," she smiled, tugging at Hades' arm in her haste to get down. "Isn't it beautiful? It's just as I'd always imagined it!"

Demeter couldn't stop the tears in her eyes from slipping slowly down her cheeks in a steady trickle.

"It's been so long," she whispered, almost more to herself than to Persephone, who she enveloped in a hug.

Hercules sidled over to Iolaus, as Aphrodite waved eagerly to the crowd upstairs to come to where the festivities were beginning.

"You did this?" he asked curiously as he slipped an arm around Iolaus' shoulders, feeling the warmth there now.

"Well someone had to do something. And parties always make me feel better. Besides," he ducked his head. "It's Solstice. Everyone should be with someone they love."

Hercules nodded silently, feeling a thickening in his throat, as the words he wanted to say just wouldn't come out. Instead he tousled the blond curls with his huge palm.

"Even if they're stuck in a haunted house in a howling blizzard," Iolaus spoke softly, wondering if Hercules could even hear him. His statement was answered with a tight squeeze of his shoulders as the demigod pressed himself a little closer.

"I hear you," he whispered back, careful to keep the moment private as the room filled up with the Olympians who wanted to party.

The two men stood looking out the window staring through the strange clear barrier that Aphrodite had devised to keep the cold outside and let the roaring fire warm the inside. The moon was visible in the sky, the snow tapering to just a few diamond like twinkles reflecting under a sky opening with stars. A blanket of white coated the earth, and Iolaus knew that it must be silent outside now, so unlike the house.

"Funny Herc, before the outside was noisy and the house was cold and silent, then Aphrodite arrived and everything is turned around.

"She has that way about her," Hercules observed.

>From behind them, Iolaus felt a light touch on his back.

Demeter smiled softly, her face a picture of happiness. "I owe you both. I know this will only be for the night, but it's just what I need to get through the rest of the season."

Hercules shook his head. "This was all Iolaus' idea. I can't take credit for any of it."

"You are all your father says you are," she answered Hercules cryptically.

Then turning to Iolaus she held the azure eyes with her own. "You aren't comfortable with Gods, either of you. Let me do one favor." She raised an arm, sweeping it in a graceful arc over the two men's heads as they stared in confusion.

The room was gone, along with the sounds of glasses tinkling and the low murmur of male voices, the echo of female laughter. Instead they stood on the path near the gate to Alcemene's cottage, the lit windows warm and welcoming.

"Solstice is about family," Demeter's voice swirled on the soft night air, and even Iolaus could hear it.

It was then that the front door opened and Alcemene flew down the path without even bothering to put on a cloak. She couldn't hide the joy in her voice, the astonishment that her sons would have arrived safely this night. With one fell swoop, she had them both tightly in her harms.

"My boys! It's a miracle! I never thought you'd be here with this storm. And I was worried," she spoke into Hercules hair as he leaned over her.

"I had Iolaus with me," Hercules laughed. "The man with a plan. And it just happened to work."

"Happy Solstice," Iolaus called out with heartfelt emotion as Alcemene released her two boys, turning to where Jason stood silhouetted in the open door.

"Let's go in where it's warm and get something to eat," Alcemene suggested, pulling the two men along with her.

"Happy Solstice," Hercules echoed, smiling across at Iolaus as they stepped across the threshold to home."

THE END