Hullo again, and thanks so much to my first reviewer, Ms. Sparkly Green. You are a goddess, dollface. And insert usual disclaimers here, while I'm at the rambling... yanno, not mine, but still I like to tinker so here we are. Stick with me, it gets better. And darker, so lookout.

Strife's world had narrowed to the tiny space in which he had been confined, to the tickle of straw beneath bare feet, the stripes of agony wending across his back and upper thighs, the feel of manacles digging into the raw flesh of wrists and ankles, and the sounds of human misery that drifted from the other pens. Darius had disappeared after the last time he lost consciousness, and the befuddled former godling couldn't decide if that had been hours ago or days ago.

He had borne the man's attempt at training in a miserable silence, head bowed against the taut line of an arm. Even now, he could manage a smile of savage pride that he had not uttered a single one of the hateful phrases his tormentor insisted he repeat. Someone would come for him, he just knew it. He comforted himself with the thought that someone on Olympus had to be watching... and they would come stop this. Cupid...

The first hints of tears brimmed in blood-shot eyes as Strife resolutely thrust that thought aside. His beautiful cousin wouldn't stoop so low as to rescue something so vile as himself from a slaver's camp. Perhaps Ares? That thought had a little more merit, and he wrapped visions of Ares storming the camp and rending Darius and his underlings limb from limb around him like a security blanket, resolutely ignoring aches and pains and the dull gnawing of hunger.

The gate of his pen creaked again, his captor reappearing with a new set of instruments, whip hanging loosely in his grasp. The bigger man watched his latest challenge mentally distance himself from his tormented body, watched those pale blue eyes grow distant.

"Shall we continue, pretty?"

The question hung in the air, unanswered, as he abruptly twisted the smaller man around in his bonds, pressing the shredded skin of his back against the rough wooden wall. Strife gasped, gaze sharpening as he was drawn back into the here and now. Darius just smiled at him, turning to examine the small assortment of tools he brought along for this particular session.

"Where were we? Oh, yes. One. I will respect my betters."

Surveying his third battlefield for the day, Ares fought the sudden urge to incite a massacre and be done with the mess. These two warlords had proven more than stubborn, refusing to meet and discuss terms. Usually, Ares had no interest in stopping a war... but this one had gone on longer than he originally intended, spreading to damage crops and culling the populations of neighboring towns. Not the way he intended things at all, and soon Demeter would be down here shrieking about spoiling a perfectly good harvest.

Gripping the bridge of his nose, he drew a deep breath and fought back a wave of frustration. Tartarus, where was his interfering half-brother when he needed him?

"Eris!"

Bellowing in his deep baritone, he was mildly astonished when his twin appeared before he had even finished calling for her. The Goddess of Discord smiled unpleasantly, swiping a bloodied dagger across a leather-clad thigh before sliding it into a sheath strapped to one slender wrist.

"Something I can do for you, bro? Kill something? Maim something?"

Ares grinned affectionately at her, pleased she had stopped brooding over Strife's predicament. At least she had stopped watching that mirror for days on end.

"Think you can stir up a little unrest in the soldiers of that camp? Dissuade them from fighting the other camp in favor of... Oh, I don't know... killing the idiot warlord in charge of this disaster?"

Eris scoffed, digging a painful elbow into her brother's side before disappearing in a flash of red-tinged purple. Her voice lingered, amusement tinging the husky contralto.

"Too easy, 'Res... too easy."

Satisfied that his plans would soon be back on track, he nodded and flashed out to oversee the border skirmish he'd left Deimos in charge of watching. Hades only knew what that situation could have devolved into during his absence.

"Cupie, doll, get down here right now!"

Aphrodite stomped her small feet, indignation fairly pouring from her slender frame in palpable waves. Hands perched on hips, she waited impatiently for her son to make an appearance.

"Cupid!"

Another demanding shout as the Love God failed to make an immediate appearance. She was in no mood for his dawdling. Noting a muted flash of gold to her left, she spun and glared at the scowling God of Love.

"I'm kinda busy mom, like.. What is your damage?"

Aphrodite could only stare, gesturing behind her to where a seemingly happy couple basked in one another's presence, radiating joy. Cupid's brows quirked, confusion obvious on his handsome features.

"Yeah, and? They're happy... I mean, I know she was supposed to be getting married to some like, old king or something but she really liked that guy and he liked her, so I figured..." he trailed off, watching his mother turn an interesting shade of magenta.

"Cupid! You are supposed to follow that," and here she jabbed a painted nail at the scroll held loosely in his grasp, "list and it did not say anything about those two being all cute and googly-eyed. She's supposed to get married to that "old king" and he was going to dedicate a new temple to me and now you've gone and spoiled it. You are so irresponsible!"

Another stamp of delicate feet, blue eyes flashing in outrage. Cupid smothered a sudden, inexplicable urge to laugh. Trust his mother to get all bent out of shape over the loss of a temple... not like she didn't have enough, right?

"Geez, Mom... they're happy. She would've been miserable with the king dude. This is true love, can't you see it?"

Aphrodite rounded on the cuddling couple, narrowing her eyes at the mortals. A filmy blue haze surrounded them, and her rage evaporated in a sigh.

"You're right, Cupe... but try to stick to the list, huh? I'll see if we can't work something in there to get you back in Thebes if you promise..."

She smiled sweetly, watching her son's expression flicker in disbelief. Cupid nodded tightly, swooping forward to brush a kiss across his mother's forehead.

"'Kay, Mom.. I promise."

Beaming, the Goddess of Love dismissed her son with a little waggle of digits, watching him disappear in a flash of gold tinged in red. Sticking her tongue out at the oblivious mortals, she flashed out behind him, hurrying to Olympus to make sure her irritation hadn't prompted the development of a new wrinkle.

Strife sagged limply against his bonds, feeling the muscles in his arms and back protest the weight dragging him downward. Blood and thicker things oozed in rivulets down his arms, his back, his thighs... the burns on his chest pulled and itched, leaving him feeling scrubbed raw. The sensitive skin around his nipples had been pierced, the needles remaining for his tormentor to twist and tug whenever the battered former godling drifted into the safety of his mind. Unable to escape the twisted wreckage of his body, he sobbed, trying to muffle the sound by burying his face in the swelling joint of his shoulder.

Darius yanked his head back, hand fisted in sweaty sable locks. He bent slightly, licking at the curve of Strife's neck. The younger man jerked, hissing as he reawakened the dull stinging in his back.

"Almost, pretty... almost. I can taste it on you."

The older man reached to twist at the needles embedded artfully in Strife's chest, satisfied with the pained whimpers escaping the slave's throat. His broad fingers drifted lower, brushing nether regions, fondling flaccid flesh. Strife's eyes shot wide, denial written in broad strokes across those expressive features.

"Say it for me, pretty. You know what I want to hear."

Something inside the former godling shattered, crumbling to ruin and leaving him almost wordless in his despair. Dull blue eyes focused on nothing as he murmured the damning phrase.

"I will respect mah betters."

Darius smirked, giving Strife's genitals a last, vicious twist before standing back to survey the youth.

"So smart, pretty. So good. Now, two. I will obey my betters."

And he smiled wider still when the phrase was repeated back to him in subdued tones. He did so love his job.

Weary but satisfied, Cupid sank into an overlarge tub, bubbles frothing almost to his neck. He hadn't once deviated from the scroll, even though it irked him to match mortals according to some of his relatives' twisted designs. That poor girl now professing undying love to a goat, for instance... just because Zeus had taken an interest in her and been careless enough to allow Hera to notice. The God of Love sighed, rolling the tense muscles in his neck and shoulders, water sloshing onto the marble floor as he resettled in the bath.

At least he could be assured his mother wouldn't be shrieking at him again any time soon. Maybe she'd even follow through with her promise to sneak him back toward Thebes, though Cupid didn't hold out too much hope. More than likely his mother would forget, or hold out for the promise of something better... like an appearance at some awful festival or orgy. He really despised some of those, despite his play-boy appearance he really had no interest in engaging in casual sex with half of Olympus. 'Course, now that 'Dite was married, she had to live vicariously through someone... and that someone usually ended up being her handsome son.

Swallowing a sigh, Cupid eased himself out of the bath, flapping his wings to rid them of the worst of the damp. Still nude, he settled onto a low bench, meticulously straightening and preening feathers as he willed a scrying mirror into existence on the far wall. Time to check in on Hercules and his charge. The image flickered, wavering, and Cupid frowned as he spotted his uncle and the hunter... but no Strife. Perplexed, he commanded the mirror to find his cousin, frown deepening as the image swirled and reformed to reveal...

The God of Love struggled to make sense of the image, some part of him mentally shying away from what he was staring at. His cousin was shackled to a wall, bloodied and bruised, head hanging so that his chin just touched his chest, a shaggy curtain of hair obscuring his features. Cupid gaped for a long moment, emotions warring for dominance as he watched Strife struggle to raise his head, vacant blue eyes peering from the shadows. He watched the former godling form words, dimly registering the phrase as anger and despair bloomed in his chest, threatening to choke him.

"Mom! Ares! Someone... anyone..."

He caught his breath, the image flickering to silver as his concentration on the image wavered. Cupid sank back to his bench, willing clothes into place as his mother and father blinked in simultaneously, the former looking concerned and the latter vaguely annoyed.

Aphrodite hurried over to her son's side, a comforting hand settling onto his shoulder as she eyed him.

"Cupie, what's wrong? Shh, tell us."

Ares just rolled his eyes, watching 'Dite coddle their fully grown son. Tartarus, but the boy was too old to act like this. He strode forward, brushing past the cooing Goddess of Love to stare down at the distraught Cupid.

"Spit it out, Cupid. I was in the middle of..."

He trailed off, following his son's wordless gesture to the mirror on the far wall, squinting as the mirror swirled and an image firmed. For a second the trio stood silent, jaws clenching, nails curling to bite into palms. Then as one...

"ZEUS!"