A/N: Hello all! Had some free time so I thought I'd begin a story about my favourite Greek mythology couple. Enjoy~! ^^
"Turn right here – right, I said."
"I AM."
"That's left, you imbecile."
"Well, darling, it's my right – "
Ares gritted his teeth and tugged hard on the reins, eliciting a chorus of whinnying protests from the horses, as the chariot banked sharply to avoid the mountain peak that came hurtling out of the air towards them. Beside him, Athena stumbled and regained her balance, clearly unimpressed by his driving as she folded her arms and rolled her eyes.
"You know, we wouldn't have had to go through this entire minefield of mountains if you'd just taken the turn at Thebes like I told you to, Ares." Her lips pressed into a thin, tight line. "And don't call me 'darling.' It is sickening, particularly coming from you."
"My dear Athena," Ares turned to her, dark eyes glinting with mockery. "I will take whichever turn I damn well please."
"Don't call me that either, you oaf – and for Zeus' sake, since you are driving would you at least keep your eyes on the – MIND THAT MOUNTAIN!"
Her arm flew up to point before them but it was too late. A huge jolt rattled the chariot and sent it swerving wildly to the side. The whole world seemed to tilt for a split second. Ares bellowed a curse as he almost toppled overboard, the chariot making an awful scraping sound that grated the air. Athena shot a cursory glance backwards, her face stony face set with disapproval, as the chariot righted itself and continued to tear along.
"By the way," she announced flatly, "that was the summit of Kithairón you just knocked off."
Ares' temper, on the brink of eruption, flared in an instant. "You know what? If you think you're so high and mighty, why don't you drive this stupid chariot?!"
"Mhm. That is the single most reasonable thing I have ever heard you say, Ares. I think I will. In fact, it should have been so right from the beginning. Hand over the reins."
"What? No! This is my bloody chariot!"
"And of course there you go again, being completely irresponsible, while I – "
"Just shut up and let me drive, you harpy woman!" Ares roared, ducking to avoid a large tree branch that had splintered off and was flying towards his head.
Athena's knuckles whitened as she gripped the side of the chariot with one hand, the other snatching in vain for the reins trapped in god's strong fists. The speeding vehicle swerved once more, careening through the sky like a runaway comet, blazing a trail of shredded leaves and twigs in its wake. Ares had skimmed off the upper canopy of the most of the forest they were now passing over.
In fact, reflected the Goddess of Wisdom somewhat mournfully, the entire morning had been just one long and turbulent chariot ride to hell.
Literally.
At dawn, Athena and Ares had been summoned to the Council Hall and instructed by Zeus to personally collect two rings from the Fates. The King of the Gods and his Queen had only just reconciled the day before after yet another huge, months-long argument stemming from Zeus' latest dalliance. Eventually, he had managed to obtain Hera's forgiveness (for the umpteenth time), but not before she extorted out of him a promise to renew their marriage vow before the Fates themselves.
Athena knew she had been given this important task because Zeus trusted her implicitly, above any other of his offspring. What irritated her was that he had decided Ares of all people had to be the one to accompany her. Everyone knew that she could barely stand him, and nor was he anywhere near delighted to be her companion for the entire day. Privately, Athena suspected that it was just plain dislike of Ares that made Zeus use every opportunity to send him away from Olympus – even under the pretence of escorting her on errands. And then there was Hera too, who recently in an attempt to salvage the respectability of both of her sons, had complained that Ares should be kept away as much as possible from Aphrodite, out of consideration for poor Hephaestus.
Not that it's going to make any difference, though, thought Athena dryly.
They were descending now, the earth beneath them splitting open with a deep groan. The chariot hit the ground with a jolt and proceeded to rattle at breakneck speed down a subterranean tunnel that opened before them. Flickering blue torches flashed past as the road stretched endlessly downwards. Eventually, a faint glowing pinpoint appeared in the distance, growing larger with every minute until suddenly the chariot was flying out of a yawning crevice into a colossal cavern.
The Underworld.
Through the middle flowed the black, brackish waters of the River Styx, surrounded on both sides by towering, sheer walls of rock that stretched upwards until they married into the one huge, overarching cavern roof. Precious metals and gemstones of all colours sprouted from the roof like plants from soil, the light of a multitude of flaming blue torches glittering upon them as sunlight shines through a stained glass mosaic.
Athena had always found the Underworld was in reality more hauntingly beautiful than frightening or eerie. Hades worked hard to keep the place respectable – something which she appreciated, considering the chaotic living habits of some of the other Olympians.
The gaping maw in the rock face from which the chariot had entered, closed behind them with a deep rumble of rock and dust. It was one of many holes which could be seen opening up periodically across the entire cavern, carrying other visitors to the Underworld. The chariot slowed, trundling to a gradual halt by the banks of the Styx. Athena alighted gracefully, relieved to be with her own two feet on the ground again and already dreading the return trip she knew was going to be equally wild.
"Next time, Ares, we are taking my chariot and I will be holding the reins."
"You?" the war god scoffed. "You drive like an old blind grandmother."
"And yet, as I recall, I still managed to beat you the last time we had a chariot race, hm?"
"That was once. You forget that I win every other time, princess."
The goddess stiffened at once, face darkening. Of all the things Ares called her he knew she hated his 'princess' and any variation of that, the most. He watched as she bristled, her pent-up fury rising to the surface like flashes of white-hot lightning veiled within the deep grey, broiling thunderclouds of her eyes.
Oh, yes, how he adored that expression.
Athena had barely opened her mouth to retort when the soft whisper of an oar swishing through water announced the arrival of a long, thin boat cruising towards them. The sleek vessel coasted soundlessly to the shore, guided by the equally silent Charon who stood like a tall, pale statue at its rear.
"Good day to you, Charon," said Athena, all traces of anger apparently melting away, though Ares watched her fist slowly clench and unclench around her spear, as if itching to drive it into something. Probably him.
She gave a pleasant nod to the thin, grim ferryman as his boat bumped up gently against the bank. He proffered a deep bow and greeted her in a monotonous voice that sounded like dry autumn leaves rustling in a tired wind.
"Lady Athena. Lord Ares." He made a stiff gesture of welcome. "The Fates are expecting you."
As they ascended the ferry, Ares noticed that Athena pointedly ignored him, instead studying the tip of her spear with an unnatural intensity.
"Forgot to polish this morning?" he questioned, light and teasing.
"No, just thinking of all the ways I can ram it into your smarmy backside," she replied almost immediately.
"Aw, but then who'll protect you from the malicious spirits that lurk in the Underworld?"
"You know very well, Ares, that I can take care of myself – which is much more than can be said for yourself." Her lips curled upwards in cold scorn. "Haven't you always been afraid of the Fates?"
Ares pasted a tetchy scowl across his face. Athena knew that he hated being accused of cowardice above anything else.
"I am afraid of nothing," he snapped, thumbing the hilt of his sword. "And I will gladly prove it to you right here and now, if need be."
"Is that a challenge?" Athena's voice rose as her grip tightened around her spear. The air seemed to suddenly crackle with energy as the two war deities glared at each other.
Charon coughed awkwardly.
"Milord. Milady. We have arrived."
The Fates resided in a hut somewhere along the shore of the River Styx. They rarely ventured out, preferring to compel gods and mortals alike to come to them. The three crones were above the jurisdiction of even Zeus, their decisions absolute and irreversible. Truthfully, Athena wasn't surprised that Ares was a little scared of them. Most of the gods and goddesses were, apart from perhaps Hestia and Hades.
"I think," Athena began as they glided towards the bank, "it would be prudent to try and remain at least civil to one another for the time being. As I'm sure you will agree, Ares."
"Since when do I ever agree with you about anything?" He snorted and stepped back, unfortunately just as Athena on the other side was about to step off. Being the heaviest of the passengers, the ferry lurched with Ares' unintentional movement, so abruptly that not even Athena was fast enough to adjust. She toppled backwards with a tiny yelp of surprise and would have collapsed onto the floor if Ares hadn't instinctively reached out and grabbed her by the waist.
"Whoa, steady there!" Ares held her firm. She looked up and saw that he was grinning. "Where are those reflexes of yours now?"
Athena, unused to any physical male contact that wasn't a punch, kick or sword-swipe, felt an inadvertent flush rise to her cheeks. She cast a furtive glance at Charon, who merely blinked and anchored the rocking ferry with his long oar.
"I was about to suppose that you did have a gentlemanly side after all, though I should have known I was going to speak too soon," she said, attempting to extricate herself from Ares' grasp. "Now, unhand me, if you please."
"Hihihihihi! The favourite with the most despised? Goodness, Lord Zeus will be most displeased." A gleeful cackle floated out across the water. The two Olympians looked up to see three ancient ladies gathered outside the tiny hut – the Fates had been waiting for them.
"Oh my~" Clothos, the weaver, cast them a sly look out of the corner of her eye. "The scandal! My, my, my…"
"Oh, stop it." Athena's lips drew into a thin, irritated line as she stepped onto the ground. "It's not what you think."
Atropos, the Fate who wielded the dread shears, cackled as she deftly snipped a thread, the bright red string fading immediately to a dull maroon as it fell from her gnarled fingers, frayed and broken.
"Of course it isn't, dear! That's what they all say. Ha! Ha! Ha!" With every syllable her scissors snapped, ending the lives of helpless mortals somewhere.
"We don't think anything, dearie," said Lachesis, Caster of Lots, in a mild tone. "We simply know."
Ares was scowling again. "Right, I forgot how infuriating it is being around these hags."
"HAGS?" Clothos screeched and spat on the ground, stomping her foot with surprising vivacity for such an ancient-looking woman. She was the youngest Fate, yet her skin was still wrinkled and folded into more lines than the on the maps that hung in Athena's study back on Olympus. The diminutive crone glared at Ares with wicked, gleaming yellow eyes, one knobbly finger stabbing accusation. "And just whom were you calling a HAG, ignorant son of Zeus?"
Ares rolled his eyes and sneered back at her.
"Ignorant?" Athena, on the other hand, was amused. "I couldn't agree more."
"Are you calling me stupid?"
"I'm surprised you're even asking, Ares, when you know you are so all the time."
Lachesis sighed beatifically. "Still arguing like an old married couple, I see. Young love. It's so sweet."
Ares and Athena's heads swivelled around at once, two pairs of eyes narrowing dangerously. "Excuse me?!"
But the Fates were too busy sniggering to pay them any notice. Clothos drew out two strands of thread that were different from the others that they were working with – these glowed golden instead of red – and began to wind them together.
"Threads fit for the gods! You've come for the wedding bands for Lord Zeus and his fine Lady Hera, haven't you?" Clothos began to spin the string into two rings, taking a half from each thread.
"In marriage – one whole made of two halves – "
"One soul in two bodies – "
"Bound together without beginning and without end – "
The Moirae were chanting now, Clothos winding the threads around the rod that Lachesis held out. The Caster of Lots beckoned to Athena.
"Come, child. I'll wager no goddess of crafts has seen such weaving as this."
Indeed, as skilled with the loom as she was, Athena had never quite seen anything like this. The strings wound together so finely and tightly that they seemed to meld into one, as Clothos said, so that she couldn't distinguish one thread from the other. The ancient Weaver cackled and dropped one of the rings, luminous with a soft golden glow, into Athena's outstretched palm. It felt warm, yet oddly metallic in her hand.
"Beautiful," she breathed, eyes widening with wonder. Ares snorted, but not even his disdain was enough to spoil Athena's delight and he watched on somewhat amused, the ring's light reflecting off her irises, the curiosity within them illuminated like sunlight peeking through storm clouds. He was somewhat surprised to feel Lachesis' papery skin brush against his hand as she uncurled his fingers and pressed the other ring into his palm.
"Inspect it."
Ares blinked. "What do you mean?"
An impatient sigh puffed out of Athena's cheeks as she turned to him with a roll of her eyes. "You were sent here as an escort and a witness, Ares. Part of your duty involves ensuring that the objects we are collecting are satisfactory."
Ares glanced back down at the ring sitting in his hand. "It's – uh…pretty?"
"Try it on for size, dearie. I think you'll do for Lord Zeus. Once they've been Sealed in the Styx it'll be harder than Tartarus to make size adjustments." Lachesis gave him a motherly smile and slipped the ring on his finger before he could protest, patting the back of his hand.
The ring flared with brief warmth and expanded slightly to fit his finger. He glanced sideways to see Athena's face positively glowing with relish as she inspected the band of gold around her own finger.
"Regret taking that maiden vow now, don't you?" He observed dryly. Her eyes narrowed at him with exasperation.
"I am merely appreciating as a fellow weaver the fine craftsmanship that has gone into creating these. These are not ordinary rings, as I'm sure you will know. Not even Hephaestus could make wedding bands such as these in his forge."
Indeed, the rings made by the Fates were no ordinary marriage tokens. Woven from divine thread and later Sealed by dipping them in the waters of the River Styx, upon which all ultimate unbreakable oaths were made, the Moirae's wedding bands were powerfully binding. There was no greater way in which two beings – be they god or mortal – could be tied so absolutely together.
Athena tugged the ring off her finger, marvelling at the delicate markings that Clothos had woven into the band. Once they were finished entirely, they would feel no different to the more ordinary gold and silver rings forged by Hephaestus as jewellery, though they were not made of any metal. The rings would be Sealed by the hand of Atropos the Inexorable herself – she of the Dread Shears, who brought inevitable death upon mortals and whose stone tablet contained etched records of the past, present and future that not even Zeus could attempt to alter.
"Is that – Lord Hades I see approaching?" Lachesis was looking out across the slow-moving waters of the Styx, where Charon's ferry was in the far distance bearing two other passengers. "Why, I do believe it is. And with Lady Persephone, too."
She held her hand out absently as Athena and Ares returned to her Zeus and Hera's wedding bands. Clothos was squinting into the distance, shading her eyes with a veiny old hand.
"That isn't no Lord Hades, you blind old girl – I'm sure that's Thanatos and Nyx."
"No, it isn't, right, Troppie?"
Atropos frowned. "Lady Persephone is not nearly so tall. Nor so curvaceous."
"Did you just accuse Lady Persephone of having a flat chest?!" Clothos shrieked with laughter.
"Ah – ladies, could we please get back to the business at hand –" Athena was interrupted by Atropos' vehement denial of any sort of blasphemy against Queen Persephone's bosom over Lachesis' scandalised protests and Clothos' screeching cackles. She raised an eyebrow at Ares and in a moment of rare mutuality, they exchanged a look of shared half-amusement over the Moirae's bent forms.
"It is Lord Hades, I tell you, and I don't care what you, Clothie, or Troppie, for that matter, say. Look, I will call 'Hades' and wave and he will respond in kind!" Lachesis flung her arm out in a flamboyant wave. Two glints of gold flew out through the air.
There was a single, dreadful moment before Athena, Ares and the other two Moirae heard a muffled splash somewhere in the dark waters of the river.
"Lachie, you idiot!" Clothos screamed, walloping Lachesis over the head with her measuring rod. Her head snapped around as the sound of splashing reached her ears. Ares was wading out into the water to retrieve the rings.
"HOLD IT – "
"ARES DON'T TOUCH THE – "
Athena and the Fates cried out at the same time, but it was too late. The war god straightened, the confused expression on his face transforming rapidly to one of alarm as the rings suddenly blazed, hot and bright in his palm.
"What the - ?" he spluttered, squinting down at his hand, which had disappeared in the blinding light that enveloped it. Athena made a small noise of alarm as the same light inexplicably appeared on her own hand as well.
"Oh, Tar-Tar-us," said Atropos very slowly. Something about the tone of her voice made Ares swivel around to stare at her.
"Hey, what's going - " he caught sight of Athena's expression and broke off. He had never before in his thousands of years of life, ever seen a look of such utter and total horror, as Athena was wearing in that very moment. He felt his skin crawl, suddenly feeling very cold.
"What is this?" he asked as steadily as his voice could allow. The goddess opened and closed her mouth several times but, for the first time ever, failed to reply. Suddenly, Ares felt the warmth beginning to drain away. The last of the blinding light died away.
He stared.
"Athena...would you like to tell me what the Hades just happened?"
Athena wordlessly held her hand up. And that was when he saw it - that he was no longer holding the wedding bands, but that one of them had somehow latched onto the fourth finger of Athena's left hand. His eyes dropped. And saw the other ring on his own, matching finger.
No one spoke.
Ares stared appealingly at Athena. "Please say something, princess."
The situation must have been as dire as it was possible, for Athena didn't respond to his usual jibe. Instead she watched, a strange, hollow expression on her face, as he tugged at the ring on his finger. It wouldn't budge, as if held in place by some invisible, unmovable force.
"It's no use, Ares," she said, and the brittle, emotionless tone of her voice made him look up. She seemed to have become completely devoid of any emotion. Ares knew best that whenever that happened, things must be worse than Tartarus.
"What...do you mean?"
"We won't be able to take these rings off - for a while." Her voice caught at the end of her sentence. She swallowed, seemingly with difficulty, and peered out across the river at the ferry that had first caught the Fates' attention. "I think that is Hades coming across the river to us. Ares, as soon as Charon gets here, we will go. We have to get back to Olympus as quickly as possible."
"Wait, what - "
"WILL YOU PLEASE JUST DO IT, ARES." Athena exploded, rounding on him with her eyes blazing lightning and white-hot fire. She stopped, squeezed her eyes shut and tried, with seemingly monumental effort, to calm herself. "Ares. Please, for this once, just listen to me, and do as I say. And then - maybe - Zeus won't kill us!" She hissed the last few words out of her teeth.
Ares was left standing in shock, as Athena bowed tersely to the three Fates, who had been watching on silently, with unreadable expressions, and swept down the river bank. She stood there with her arms folded, stiller and stiffer than Charon now visible in the approaching ferry that carried Hades. And yet, Ares thought he could see a tremble in her shoulders.
"What the hell was that all about?" he turned to the Moirae beside him. Atropos shrugged and turned away uncomfortably. Lachesis avoided his stare, looking guilty and troubled. It was Clothos who spoke up, at last, something between a wry grin and a grimace upon her withered features.
"Congratulations, Ares."
"What?"
"You've just been married to Athena."
A/N: Phew. No promises, but I will try to update soon! ;)