Holy Matrimony

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Greek Mythology because...well technically, it doesn't really belong to anyone.

Summary: Men, mortal and god alike, experience a heightened level of possessiveness when their wife is bearing their child. Ares oversteps his boundaries and it brings husband and wife together, even if only for one night.

Author's Note: This takes place in the Games universe and is, in fact, the incident at the wedding of Dionysus and Ariadne that fic refers to. I hope everyone enjoys this.

"You're looking ravishing this eve, gracious queen. Even more beautiful than the blushing bride, I'd wager," a clearly inebriated voice boasted, making Amphitrite turn to seek out the owner.

Her face visibly fell when she realized that the voice did not belong to her husband but to Ares, god of war. Sighing, the ocean queen downed her wine. "Many a battle have been borne of lesser words. You of all people should know that, Ares."

Said god let out a bellowing laugh that sent chills up Amphitrite's spine. "Ah, but it's true. Why you are positively glowing, my queen."

Blue eyes narrowed and the sea goddess instinctively laid a hand on her midsection as Ares grew bold and stepped closer. "I am not your queen, child of war," she began scornfully. "You'd do well to remember that."

"Come, come, sea queen, you share no affection for your husband," he began, snatching up her free hand and bringing it to his chest. "I have it on good account, from members of your own court, that you and Poseidon haven't engaged in intimacy in quite some time and-"

"Has it ever occurred to you, Ares, that not everyone makes as loud an affair of love as you and Aphrodite?" Amphitrite cut in, all the while trying to retract her hand from Ares' tight grasp. "I cannot speak for my husband, but I'd prefer it if all of Olympus not know the intimate details of each and every coupling."

The bark of laughter that erupted from the violent god's throat at her response no doubt caught the attention of everyone in the room. In fact, Amphitrite could practically feel all eyes turn toward them.

"There is no need to put on airs for me, my queen, for I know your lies. Why not let a real man show you how a woman should be treated? You would not regret it, of that I can assure you." With that he tugged on her hand, sending her crashing into him as his arm came up around her, holding her close. "You just can't teach an old god new tricks; let me show you what you're missing."

"Hephaestus might not mind you borrowing his wife for your own uses, Ares, but I can assure you that I do not share in his generousness and therefore demand that you release my wife immediately."

Amphitrite audibly gulped, despite not being the one on the receiving end of her husband's anger, and Ares' grip on her seemed to tighten at the first spark of conflict.

"And if I don't Uncle?" the younger god teased. "It is not as though you take pleasure in her."

Normally she would have been angered beyond belief at the careless way she was being referred to, as though she were an object to own and not a person but, at the moment, all Amphitrite wanted was to be by her husband's side. She couldn't stand him over half the time, true enough, but his presence was comforting and it was always best to not have to look at him when he was staring at her like that. His possessiveness did strange things to her and almost made her forget the circumstances under which they were married.

Poseidon leaned forward, taking hold of his wife's elbow in a firm, yet considerably gentler grip than that of his nephew, and tugged her forward with enough power to free her from Ares completely. Once she was safely tucked under his arm he said: "Take another gander, foolish nephew. Given her current state, I would say I take pleasure in her often enough."

Ares' eyes widened only a fraction as they quickly darted to her silk covered abdomen. Her pregnancy was barely noticeable and, if one wasn't avidly looking for it, they would surely miss it.

Before he even had the chance to respond, Poseidon grabbed the front of Ares' armor and tugged him forward so that they were nose to nose; his words were meant only for the ears of the god of war and his wife. "And let it be known, Ares, that she is not for you to covet under any circumstances as she is mine and mine alone. Do we understand each other?"

Ares nodded dumbly and Poseidon released him, momentarily pacified. With Amphitrite still in his grasp, he turned swiftly, wished the newlyweds well and exited the hall.

He no longer felt like sharing his wife.

Amphitrite knew he couldn't help it, Poseidon always kept a close watch on her after incidents like the one that had transpired with Ares, but his stare was beginning to unnerve her. His eyes hadn't left her form since before they'd arrived home, never straying, not even as she changed into her nightgown. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had his undivided attention for such a long period of time.

Ares' proposition must have hit him hard.

"I know this sounds impossible right now but, eventually, you are going to have to let this go," she spoke up as she turned down the sheet on their bed.

A deep sigh was the only response she received and she turned to gauge his expression.

He looked magnificent sitting there, hunched over, chin in hand without even the slightest air of propriety, yet he somehow still radiated power and demanded her attention.

"In all actuality, it is not even that serious," she began again, trying to release him from his trance, a trance that made him focus on her and nothing else. He hadn't even taken notice of Triton, their oldest, entering their chambers to say good-night shortly after their arrival.

"Not that serious?" he rasped, speaking for the first time since bidding Dionysus and Ariadne adieu. "A man approaching my wife is not that serious?"

"Now you know very well that is not what I meant." It was an attempt to calm his anger, a failed attempt at that if the dark look on his face was anything to go by.

Standing from his seat in the far corner of their bedroom, he moved toward her. "Not only did he approach my wife but my pregnant wife, insulting the very foundation of our marriage and disrespecting us both." He turned abruptly and began to pace in his frustration. "And to insinuate knowledge of what goes on in our bedroom..." A growl interrupted his tirade and Amphitrite unconsciously took a step back in an act of self preservation; it was never a good idea to be in close proximity when he was like this.

She watched his powerful form prowl their bedroom for a few more moments before she finally gave in and decided to take a risk. He would never be violent with her, especially not when she was expecting, but he was unpredictable and she was never sure of how he would react to her interference.

Would it comfort him or would it enrage him even more?

In her slow, graceful stride she approached him, resting her hands on his forearms as she forced him to cease his pacing. "He was incorrect in his assumptions, was he not?" she inquired softly, an elegant eyebrow raised in question.

Her husband sighed again as his previously crossed arms fell to his sides, prompting her to drop her own hands. "Do I really neglect you?" he whispered, a heartbroken look on his face. "Is it so easy for others to assume that I have no interest in you?"

Amphitrite prepared to speak but he cut in.

"They're wrong." he stated firmly. "If that's what everyone thinks then they're wrong. I want you so badly sometimes it hurts and then you won't let me get close to you and..."

Her usually indifferent expression softened and she raised a hand to his face, effectively cutting him off. "What they think is not important. We know the truth."

Green eyes closed as her cool hand cupped his face, thumb gently stroking his cheekbone. He inhaled deeply, her scent completely surrounding him, and his hands itched to reach out to her. "May I be permitted to touch you?" he asked huskily.

Her proximity made his pulse quicken, it was getting hard to breathe.

It was unheard of, asking permission to touch one's own wife, but their relationship was of a different sort than most. Their beginning had been unconventional and their marriage no different.

Why mess with something that worked?

When they had first met, when he had first tricked her into marriage, it had been a challenge. No woman before her had ever refused him and he had been intrigued. What woman didn't strive for the attention of a god? But now, nearly two millennia into their life together, it was normal; he wouldn't know what to do with her if she just fell at his feet.

The wooing, the refusal, the constant cat and mouse - it was their life together.

He was affecting her. His lust, his desire, his masculinity - it was all affecting her and, at the moment, she couldn't help but want him. She needed him.

After a moment, the longest of his life, she finally whispered: "You may." His arms came about her instantaneously and she melted into his embrace almost as quickly.

Strangely enough, sex wasn't in the forefront of his mind. Right now he just wanted to hold her, to know she was there and, luckily for him, right now she needed to be held.

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