entitled; a love like war
summary; are gods really gods if no one believes in them anymore? emma finds herself a hard time convincing herself that they are.
rating; m
disclaimer; obviously, i don't own once upon a time, or any of it's characters, and if i owned greek myth, there would be so many pairings thrown about that didn't make sense.
word count; 1,838
dedication; this was written for nini on her birthday, and it will be continued with her in mind because i absolutely adore torturing her with these kind of things.
notes; so, it has been months since i first wrote this up on tumblr, with little to no intention to continuing it, because, well, i literally wrote it in the spur of the moment after finding out it was nini's birthday. but she wanted a second part, i wanted a second part, and the inspiration is finally hitting me to keep this going so, i decided it would be okay to post it up for more people to read. i really hope you enjoy it as much as i do. these ares/athena aus will continue to be the ones i am most proud of, so bless you all for loving them the way you do and encouraging me to write more. also, if you ever feel the need to check out which gods are tied in to what characters, the little list is up at the beginning of my gods & monsters fic. they're going to remain the same for the most part, and if i change anything, i'll let you guys know.
i. the rest is rust & stardust.
The end was nearing.
She could feel it in her bones. The faith was slipping away, the prayers that were always on the tips of their tongues no longer came—this world would was going to fall, and a new one would rise.
Life on Olympus was crumbling beneath their feet.
And the thought of losing him was an unexpected ache in her very core that she was not entirely positive she could handle. Immortality was not the gift the Gods played it out to be, not when their world was always on the verge of falling apart. She knew that things would always change. Things died, only to be reborn again into something far greater, but that did not make losing what they had then and there any less difficult.
.
"The tremors have started."
His voice never failed to send shivers coursing through her spine. His fingers only made the action worse as they lingered, just barely, at the sensitive spot on her lower back.
"I expected they would have come sooner. Zeus has been annoyingly unpleasant in his frustration lately." She muttered, her gaze lingering on the scene below them.
Things were changing far quicker than she could have imagined. She didn't know how to act—he seemed far calmer than she was, and that unnerved her all the more. Was he not worried that things would change? Was he not terrified that what they had built would fall apart as easily as their life on Olympus would? She did not know. She was not even sure that she wanted to know, and she dared not ask.
"He was worse the previous time." He answered, a hand sliding along her waist and pulling her closer to him.
Athena thought back on their time with Rome. It was strange, as if she had been someone else entirely during that time, and in a way she very much was. Minerva was not Athena, Mars was not Ares—and Athena was terrified that the people they became would look back and realize that they would not be who they are at this very moment.
She turned in his hold then, steel colored eyes meeting his dark ones and trying desperately to keep a hold on the logic that had always come so easily to her. It was who she was, what came naturally to her, yet at this moment, so close to the end, it wanted nothing more than to leave her behind, with nothing but her emotions to overwhelm her.
Hands reached up then, fingers brushing against the stubble that rang along his jawline and she almost smiled at the way his fingers tightened on her waist; it was something she never got used to, the effect she had on him—or the effect he had on her. Things were never going to be right with them now, not if things happened the way she feared they would. She had spent all this time keeping him at a distance, never knowing that the end for them was near. Without another moment's hesitation, she closed the distance between them, lips molding with his. This was the last chance she would have to do this, the last chance to let him know that no matter how hard she fought it, she had fallen in love with him.
When she pulled back and met his dazed expression, she almost laughed. But the panic in his eyes and the urgency with which he held onto her hands was enough to keep any bit of joy from her expression.
"We will find each other again." He murmured, trying to reassure her, but it only made her smile bitterly up at him.
"Oh, I have no doubt about that, Ares—" They were never truly lost to one another, not physically. No matter how many lifespans they traipsed across, they were Gods, and they were never far apart. "The real question is will we be able to love each other when we have repeatedly been born to be at odds with one another?"
She didn't know it then, but the words haunted him more than he would ever admit—-though, he never would have been given the chance, because that night was the last night Olympus stood tall.
Come morning it would turn to dust, taking them with it.
.
.
.
Are Gods really Gods if no one believes in them anymore?
Emma finds herself having a hard time convincing herself that they are. She wakes up every single day feeling the power within her, and she accepts it, but she slips into her daily routine and the surge of power fades, reminding her that though her status remains, she's just another person, another face lost in a crowd that no one will recognize.
She doesn't remember much of the previous life—of the Glory of Mount Olympus that is portrayed so extravagantly in the books she's read a thousand times over, needing to reassure herself that it existed.
She remembers Aphrodite, and her constant presence, constant need to make trouble for her sister and she has to remind herself not to sneer at Regina whenever she sees her around, because the Goddess of Love was always in a sour mood whenever Emma came around.
She doesn't understand what happened that tore them apart in the end but she doesn't really get the chance to dwell on it when she's digging and digging, only to get laughed at by Jones—a poor excuse for a God of War, in her opinion, but she couldn't criticize when there were days she found herself wondering how the title of the Goddess of Wisdom could possibly fit her at all.
It only serves to frustrate her more whenever he shows his face and there's a tugging at her heartstrings, because it's absolutely laughable that they could do anything but absolutely detest one another. But no matter how many books she reads, how often she plays the Trojan War in her head and the aftermath that resulted in even more bad blood between the two of them, in the heat of their arguments there is always a part of her that aches—and not just her heart, her very soul.
There are times she catches him, sitting in a bar with Regina curled up against his side, a saucy smirk on her lips, staring at her with this look in his eyes that makes her wonder if he feels it, too. But then he catches her gaze and his eyes narrow at her, sending a rage coursing through her that she can barely contain and before she knows it, they're in the middle of some half-assed wager that she repeatedly bests him in.
It only fuels the fire—the hatred, and she has to keep him from dragging any mortals down in his games.
It should have all been more than enough to remind her that they were on completely opposite sides and always would be.
But the days when he would show up at the bar alone, without Aphrodite in tow, he would take the stool next to her, order them both a glass of whiskey and ask, "Have you figured it out yet?"
He never elaborates, no matter how hard she presses him and it infuriates her. It leads to too many wars with words that leave her mentally exhausted and emotionally drained. It leads to threats from Regina about staying away from her lover, and warnings from Jefferson, their eccentric and often inebriated friend. Never would she understand the friendship between the God of Wine and the God of War, but it all led back to the same thing—-Emma being left in the dark about something that was so, so important that it felt like there was a whole in her chest that only seemed to get deeper with every passing day.
She didn't feel like a God, didn't feel immortal; she felt lost and confused, and alone and so very, very human.
And it wasn't until the memories came to haunt her in her dreams that she realized the truth.
The next time she sat in that bar, and he sat next to her, ordering the same thing he did every single time and asked, "Have you figured it out yet?" She took the glass, brought it up to her lips and paused, sending him a fleeting glance before tossing the glass back and draining it completely. She set the glass down then, and muttered, "It changes nothing."
She wasn't sure what was more heartbreaking then, the shocked expression on his face, or the pain that wrapped itself around her like a warm blanket. Turning on her stool to face him, a bittersweet smile on her pink lips, she spoke with an almost fragile coldness, "Who we are now and who we were then are different people, Killian. Did you really expect I would fall into the arms of my rival simply because of our previous stupidities? That was literally a lifetime ago. Perhaps it's time you move on."
She pushed herself off the stool then, ready to leave and surrender to the pain that was consuming her whole when he caught her by surprise, curling his fingers around her forearm and pulling her to him. There was so little distance between them that she could feel the warm breath from his lips hit her as he spoke, hushed and hoarse as he stared her down with a gaze that lit a fire within her. "And you're a fool to think that I would not know the games you play, Emma. Ever the cold and calculating Virgin Goddess, eh, love? Do not fool yourself into thinking this is over. It's not. Not by a long shot."
She yanked her arm free from his grip then, and stormed out of the bar as quickly as possible, slowing only when she was positive he wouldn't be following her. Just that quickly, it all came crashing down on her, the pain, the emotions, the struggle to remind herself that this was for the better. That she was sparing them both the heartache of a love that was simply not to be. But Killian was Killian and if she knew anything, it was that he was not going to back down without a fight.
Composing herself, she ran a hand through her hair, taking a deep, ragged breath and continued to strut confidently back to her small apartment.
Her doubts about them still being Gods without the faith and the prayers were quickly dismissed, as a new energy had taken a hold of her. It buzzed and breathed within her, and it pained her all the more to realize it had come alive with the realization of what had occurred with Ares in her previous life, but it was evidently clear that faith or no faith, Gods were Gods, and she would be damned if she faced Jones as anything but the stubborn, strong-willed Goddess of Wisdom that she was.
tbc.