CHAPTER XIX
[Warning: Dark, Mature Themes]
[R-18] Adult Content
Athena smoothed over the map with her hand. A sea of red x's swarmed the parchment and she ran her finger over the two brightest and largest x's she had drawn over Aphrodite's and Ares' palaces.
The flames of a lantern dimly lit her desk with a warm glow. From where the light could not reach, her owls hooted softly, their wide golden eyes shimmering in the darkness.
There was still no pattern that Athena could discern from the madness that had descended upon Olympus. Creatures appeared near temples, in forests, on mountains and in caves, near lakes and ponds and nearly every reach of the kingdom. In contrast, the area around Zeus' Palace, as well as the palace itself, seemed to be wholly unaffected – but that much was to be expected. The King's divine energy was not to be trifled with and could easily ward off the unwanted attention of any beast.
The same, however, could not be said for the likes of Ares and Aphrodite, Athena thought as she gazed at the two large x's. She glanced over at a messy pile of papers beside the map. In an effort to document as much as she could about the attacks on their palaces, Athena drew sketches of the beast as she had remembered it. Well, attempted to draw, anyway. She was not known for her drawing skills and her sketches were crude, but ultimately, they served their purpose.
Athena's lids were heavy. It was hard to believe that Hades' hearing, Apollo's gathering and Aphrodite's ordeal had all occurred on the same day, and now she was feeling the effects of her exhaustion. After arriving at her temple, her intention was to head straight to her office, document the details of the attack on Aphrodite's palace and work into the night, but her head servant managed to coax her into taking a quick bath and changing into her night dress beforehand.
Perhaps complying with her servant's request was her greatest error, as the soft fabric of the dress on her skin and the quiet hooting of her owls drew her closer and closer to slumber.
Before her forehead could meet the hardwood, Athena straightened the pile of papers and notes that littered the desk's surface and opened a drawer. Today needed an end, she thought as she stored away her sketches, and there wasn't much a foggy mind could do for an already taxing task.
An urgent knock rapped on the door of her office. She looked up.
'Enter,'
A young woman with sharp features peered into the dark office and then entered tentatively. The head servant stepped into the light and the quiet owls fluttered their wings in anticipation. She bowed
'Lady Athena,' she said, straightening herself.
'What's the matter, Maija?' Athena asked. She could sense a certain unease from her servant, and her expression was a mix of apprehension and bemusement.
'There is a guest that is requesting milady's audience in the foyer.'
Athena furrowed her brows.
'A guest? Who would come at this hour–'
The realisation dawned on her. The face of her servant, whose eyes could not meet hers, said it all.
She stood from her seat, and the eyes of the owls surrounding her flashed as their heads turned to their master.
*.*.*
Athena descended the stairs leading to the foyer where a lone figure stood, awaiting her arrival.
It was late into the evening. The air was cool and passed through the breezy, open arches of the foyer as the sounds of the night filled the temple. The air was filled with anticipation – of the hunting owls, of the restless wind and of two figures that approached one another.
The light of the torches that lined the arches illuminated Athena's form as her airy nightdress billowed behind her like a sail. In the dark recesses, hidden behind the pillars of the arches, were dark figures that stood armed for their lady. Being a god of war, Athena did not take the presence of uninvited guests lightly. Millenia ago, she created a list of gods, goddesses and creatures that needed careful, armed 'supervision' upon their visit, and this guest was no exception.
'I thought you had duties to attend to for the night,' Athena's voice was terse and low. She stopped a dozen steps before the landing.
'Why are you here?' she asked. The restive hooting of her owls grew louder, as did the flapping of their large wings.
Ares stood before Athena, his eyes transfixed on her form. The hair at his temples was damp where sweat had accumulated on his ride out and his breaths were laboured. His signature military jacket was nowhere to be seen and his white shirt rippled with each gust of wind, exposing on occasion a scared and dewy chest.
'I came to see you.' He spoke clearly. He did not hesitate.
'You were not invited to be here,' Athena glared, 'you never have been. You should be with the person who needs you the most. So, go.'
'The person who needs me?' Ares stepped forward, 'You don't? You don't even want me?'
Athena felt her belly flip, fuelling her contempt. She was silent and watched him carefully. The air in the foyer was thick and she could feel a restlessness from her sentries. Ares knew they were they and he could feel it too, but his focus did not falter.
'You will never change,' Athena spat, 'You will always have that serpent's tongue, telling lies to whomever is pathetic enough to listen. Leave.'
'Lies? About coming with me to my palace? It truly was my intention, my desire, but I simply did what I had to, to diffuse an already chaotic situation.'
'Diffuse?' Athena laughed bitterly, 'Romping like animals in that ruin is your idea of diffusing a situation?'
Ares smiled to himself.
'The night hardly went how you thought it did,' he slowly walked towards her, 'but if 'romping' is what's on your mind, I'd be happy to allevi–'
'You heeled for her like a dog. Exactly like the dog you are. And that is all you will ever be - a dog for her, for Zeus–'
The flickering fires of the torches that lined the arches exploded. The flames grew five times their own length and burned a dangerous scarlet, spitting embers furiously into the air. A red glow filled the foyer, exposing the hidden sentries and their weapons, unsheathed and aimed towards the culprit. Ares' eyes gleamed in the red light and his smirk had quickly disappeared.
'Watch your tongue.' he growled.
'Look at you,' Athena sneered, hardly looking like herself, 'still driven to the edge by the same words, every time.'
'You are no more than a dog yourself,' Ares felt the presence of the sentries' approach, inch by inch, 'lapping up the floor that Zeus pisses on.'
'I am a servant of Olympus,' she looked down upon Ares, 'and this dog has brought us victory after victory. Can the same be said for the petulant, little boy who–'
Behind Athena, a cry resonated across the foyer.
Maija, who stood at the head of the stairs closely watching over her mistress, swatted furiously at the flame that had suddenly caught on the base of her dress.
Athena whipped around.
'Maija!' she called out, but before she could make her way up the steps, Maija unsheathed a dagger from her undergarments.
Like all of Athena's servants, Maija knew to be prepared for any threat. Slicing into her own dress with the blade, she managed to tear off the flaming piece of her garment before the flames could spread to her skin. She tossed the charring fabric far from herself and patted down the remaining flames until they had completely disappeared, the skin of her palm singeing. In a matter of seconds, she had managed to secure her own safety.
Which was why she was the head servant.
She looked up at her mistress, expressing reassurance with her dark eyes before fixing them upon Ares with a glare, the dagger still held firmly in her hand.
Athena turned to Ares, rage in her eyes. He grinned.
'My petulance surprises you?' he said, his form bathed in red and the sentries now out of the shadows and slowly encroaching his space. But suddenly, they stopped.
'Leave.' Athena hissed.
The night became still.
The air around Ares suddenly picked up speed until it felt as though he were caught in a whirlwind. He could hear nothing but the furious flapping of wings as his hair whipped before his face, his skin burning as small scratches began to appear.
Every owl in the vicinity had been summoned to create a storm of wings and talons to protect their master from an unwelcomed guest. In the haze of brown, black and grey, Ares could still see Athena standing motionless, her dark eyes fixed upon him with fury.
'I told you to leave,' her expression did not change, 'I'll have them tear you to pieces, Ares.'
The threat hardly seemed like one at first but as Ares felt his flesh burst open with every tear, the hungry beaks and talons ripping into his skin like flaming blades, he realised that this would indeed be a tortuous way to go. Through squinted eyes, he took in the images about him.
To Ares, his vision presented what looked like a scene from a haunting dream. One of those fleeting vignettes that flashes vividly across the blacks of one's eyes before manifesting into another horror, unrelated to the previous. In a sea of glowering, ember eyes and dark wings, bathed in a blood red light, stood Athena, clad in white, radiant, infuriated and bloodthirsty. Shadows crept along the floor, threatening to entrap Ares in their maws, the vision of Athena wavering but ever present.
A dream indeed.
Ares slowly made his way towards her.
The owls followed him without hesitation, closing the gap between themselves and their target. Athena watched as he approached, her chest tightening. It angered her. The fact that he would not relent. With the lies, the deception, his arrogance, with his approach – no matter how much distance she put between them, he would not give up.
Athena glowered at him and the owls' flight became more fevered. They swooped towards Ares dangerously, their talons clawing deeper into his skin and aiming right for the bone as the sentries moved forward, their dark figures casting long, quivering shadows. An owl with an ear-piercing screech bit into Ares' cheek as another sent its talons into his shoulder, blood spurting and staining his shirt. Seemingly unaffected, he continued to walk, his eyes, his mind, his conviction, steadfast. The sentries had not yet cut him down and the owls had not yet torn him apart, so he would walk until they did.
The hairs on Athena's neck stood on end as she watched him ascend the first step and then the second. Her owls had done a number on him, the sentries were itching for her fatal command and yet he would still not yield. She clenched her fists.
An inconsolable neighing resounded from the temple grounds as Athena's steed shattered. Pieces of obsidian hurtled towards her, forming in the air a blade that halted before Athena's chest and hung suspended in the air with the tip of the blade aimed towards her target.
The fifth step, the sixth step and then the seventh. Every detail of Ares' face, his body, his battered flesh came into view. Athena's heart rapped against her ribcage. She wasn't sure what he would do. Had she perhaps pushed him too far with her words? It was unlike her to provoke someone with such callous contempt and her own vitriol rattled her, but she would now contend with the consequences of her careless actions by whatever means necessary.
The eighth step, the ninth – Ares could see Athena clearly. The storm of owls surrounded the both of them, the owls making sure to keep their mistress out of harm's way. Athena did not move. Ares took a step up.
Grabbing a fistful of his dark, red locks, Athena tugged on his hair, forcing his head back so that the throat was exposed and vulnerable. She gripped the hilt of the obsidian blade at her chest and pressed the edge against his skin, threatening to slice him open.
'I told you to leave. Now.' Athena hissed through gritted teeth, tightening her grip on his mane.
Ares watched her. He could see the hundreds of owls that wheeled and dove behind him reflected in her glossy, eyes.
He clasped Athena's wrist tightly. She flinched, tugging on his hair, but to her surprise he slowly loosened his grip. His fingers delicately worked their way down to her fist, the tips brushing over her white, taut knuckles. He encircled her fist with his.
Athena glanced between her fist and his face, his expression unreadable. She felt pressure on her hand as the blade pressed into his skin.
'Do it.' Ares said. His skin broke as he forced the blade into himself, its edge cleanly slicing through his throat. Blood, red as the flames surrounding them, bloomed from the laceration and spilled onto the blade's edge.
Upon seeing his blood, Athena's heart skipped. She tried to retract her hand but Ares' vice grip on her would not relent. He pressed the blade deeper into himself.
'Stop…stop–'
'Do it,' he repeated, slowly dragging the blade across his skin, 'go ahead.'
Athena made a feeble attempt to twist her fist out of his grasp but she felt weak and doing so would only incur more injury to him. Beneath Ares' gaze, watching the blood spill onto the blade, onto their fingers – she felt weak.
'If it means you'll let me stay with you,' he whispered, 'then do it.'
Athena stared at Ares as the colour drained from her face. Her eyes burned with inexplicable tears and her breath escaped her. His eyes bore into hers for a moment before he released his grasp on her hand and the blade. Blood cascaded down his neck, spilling onto his chest.
Clasping her waist with blood-soiled hands, he pulled her towards him and lowered his head to her chest, kissing the flesh above her heart.
In an instant, the roaring, scarlet flames of the torches surrounding them shrunk to little dancing licks of sapphire blue.
Ares' hair brushed against Athena's chin. It felt as though the breath in her lungs had been siphoned out of her and cast into the air around them, leaving only a drumming heart within her. His body was a flaming coal against hers and with every breath he took, he seemed to get warmer. Gently, his hands travelled from her waist and along her back until she was embraced entirely by his arms. He kissed her clavicle, his breath on her skin.
The storm of wings subsided.
The owls flew out of the whirlwind, their distressed screeches calming and turning into gentle croons as they returned to their hunts in the quiet recesses of the forest. Athena felt a warm liquid seep through her dress and onto her breast. She tossed the obsidian blade to the stairs and placed her hand over Ares' wound.
'You idiot,' she muttered, applying pressure to it. She felt the force of his weight against her and with a stumble, Ares struggled to straighten himself. He had a day as taxing as her own, of course he would be equally exhausted. He placed his hand over Athena's and pressed down, hampering the blood flow.
'You can't say I didn't give you the chance,' he smiled, his eyes cloudy. He threaded his fingers through Athena's and rested his head against her chest.
'Idiot…you need to have this tended to.' Athena said as she tried to mask the trembling in her voice.
What was it now that lead them to his moment? This foyer, which was lit by a cool blue light with the winds chilly breath sweeping across the marble, had been the raging, crimson flame of a fire just moments ago. What had changed? What was it again that inflamed their emotions, singed their egos and made them envenomate one another? Athena could barely remember. It all seemed so trivial now.
So, this is all it took to make her forget – Ares in her arms, kissing her heart and changing the lighting.
How pathetic, Athena thought.
'How truly pathetic,' she whispered, pulling Ares into her. She kissed his head and even though his hair carried the scent of a sickly-sweet perfume foreign to himself, the scent did not deter Athena from kissing the locks of damp hair over and over.
Ares was unaffected by her words, but sensed that perhaps they were not in fact for him.
'Your heart sounds like a war drum,' he said, his eyes shut as he focused on the sound. Athena felt her ears heat up.
'You need to have this attended to Ares,' she could feel that the flow of blood had not yet ceased, 'and then rest. I'll have a bed made for you and–'
'Make your bed mine,' Ares tightened his grip around her.
'No,' Athena tensed. He looked up at her expectantly.
'No,' she repeated, resting her forehead against his, 'no, no. You don't get to manipulate me and play with me and… frighten me in my own temple and then demand my bed.'
'Manipulation?' Ares' hand squeezed hers on his wound and there was humour in his voice, 'That blade was yours. Was cutting me not what you wanted to do? Not so long ago, you wouldn't have passed up the chance. What has changed?'
Ares pressed his lips against Athena's chin and she felt a tingle run down her neck.
'Put me in your bed and I shall repent for frightening you,' he whispered, pecking her lip.
Athena hesitated before letting their lips meet briefly. Ares gripped her dress and Athena felt the material slide against her bare skin. She parted from him, her heart already too unsteady for any more unmetered stimulation.
'Maija,' Athena called out, 'instruct the others to tend to him.'
Her eyes fixed upon his.
'And then bring him to me.'
*.*.*
The air in Athena's private quarters was chilly. Perhaps, not quite the right temperature for what was to unfold tonight.
Sitting on the edge of her bed, Athena glanced at the sooty fireplace at the end of the room. It had been charred black and remnants of dead wood littered the hearth. Under her gaze, a small fire bloomed, casting a weak light across the room. In truth, Ares wasn't the only one who could manipulate the elements.
She looked about the room, drawing her bloodied dress closer to herself. Her private quarters did not exhibit the same sort of extravagancy and flair that most other gods' quarters did. Most of the room was 'decorated' with peculiar trinkets she had found or had been gifted, sets of armour that she hadn't the heart to cast out, and a few spoils from battle.
Draped over a divan was a tapestry she had begun to weave but hadn't had the time to complete. A shield Nike had won over a Persian god and then bequeathed unto her laid propped against a disordered bookshelf, its lustrous surface a little dimmer than when it first arrived. Beside the fireplace, either very carelessly discarded or very intricately placed, were the helmet and chest piece of one of Athena's favourite armour suits, the rest of the suit having been lost in battle. Yes, her room was nothing divine or spectacular, in fact it was very ordinary
Just as Athena considered tidying up, a gentle knock sounded on the door.
'Enter,'
Maija bustled into the room, a brass basin in her hands and covering its opening, a woven tray that held a neatly folded, snow white dress.
'Lady Athena,' she bowed before moving towards her mistress and laying down the basin. She removed the tray and placed it carefully on the bed beside Athena.
'You must be freezing in that sullied dress,' she said before dipping her hand in the warm water of the basin and fishing out a soft cloth. The water had an earthy scent and an amber colour.
Athena inspected Maija's face as the servant busied herself, wringing out the cloth and then dampening it again. There was a disquiet about her, an urgency and discomfort she was trying to mask.
'Please undress so that I may clean you,' Maija said without hesitation. Athena smiled at her servant, eyeing the dripping cloth.
'This much I can do myself,' she said, extending her hand.
Maija glanced at her lady's hand. Her expression dropped ever so slightly and she wrung out the cloth before placing it in Athena's hands. She glanced over at the fireplace where the little fire danced cheerfully. Unsatisfied, she fluttered towards it.
'This won't do,' she said, bending down, 'I'll get some more wood and–'
'Maija,' Athena said warmly. Maija halted for a moment before clutching the singed ends of her dress.
'It's alright you know,' Athena said, shrugging off her dress, 'to be angry at what he did to you. You didn't deserve to be caught in the fray like that. To be caught in our petty back-and-forth. But more than anything,' she swiped at the blood on her chest, 'it's alright for you to be angry with me too.'
Maija whipped around, her expression regretful.
'Lady Athena–'
'For allowing him into my temple after he endangered you and the others. And for displaying such childish behaviour,' Athena looked at Maija, 'that should not have been the disposition of the lady you serve. I apologise.'
Maija sprung from her place and bowed, her forehead almost touching her knees.
'You needn't apologise to me at all Lady Athena,' her voice was soft yet resolute, 'I should apologise for my careless expressions and behaviour. I've made you think something you shouldn't have.'
Athena smiled again. She knew that this could go on forever between the two of them.
'Come,' she said, motioning towards Maija with the cloth, 'swab my back.'
Athena was not one to simply expose her bare form and offer it to just anyone (contrary to what preceding events might suggest) but Maija was one of the few servants that Athena chose to engage with so intimately. She had seen Athena at her utmost worst, mangled and bloodied, and she had attended to her lady with diligence every time. Her silent but ever-present nature mirrored that of the owls that frequented the halls of the temple and Athena trusted her most of all.
Maija obediently received the cloth and sat beside her mistress. Athena offered Maija her back and she began to press the cloth into her lady's skin.
'That debacle,' Athena said, 'left me…shaken. I must've broken into quite the sweat.'
'Understandably, my lady.'
Maija dipped the cloth into the basin and wrung it out before continuing on Athena's back. The crackling of the fire filled the silence between them.
'I couldn't explain to you what is going on with me even if I tried,' Athena said quietly, 'I must be going mad.'
Maija swabbed at her neck.
'Yes,' she said, 'apparently that's what it is like…being with someone who enamours you. Madness.'
Athena, embarrassed, inched away. There were some things that perhaps she would rather not share with Maija.
'That's enough,' she said gently, 'go rest now. I shall dress myself.'
Maija hesitated for a moment, but did not linger. Collecting the cloth, basin, woven tray and sullied dress, she bustled out of the room again, before glancing at her mistress one last time. She wondered if, in those last few minutes, her concern was just as conspicuous as the vexation with which she entered the room.
Athena pulled on her new nightdress and returned to her seat on the edge of the bed. Suddenly, everything felt surreal. The warm light of the fire and the cool light of the moon battling to dominate the room, the scent of sandalwood and olive oil, the few minutes before Ares' arrival – it all felt to be a part of some dreamscape.
Exhaustion rushed over her again. She blinked hard to keep her eyes open and her head bobbed about on occasion when slumber caught up to her.
Then the latch of the large, ornate door clicked.
Athena's ears prickled with the sudden sound and she shot up from the bed's edge, her dress flying up with her. Her focus having shifted entirely, the small fire she was controlling in the hearth disappeared as though it were never there and the room was left to be lit by the moon alone.
The door creaked as it opened slowly, and like a white shadow, Ares entered the room.
The servants had dressed him in white, linen night clothes and for the first time Athena saw him emit a heavenly glow that contrasted the vibrance of his blood-red military coat. It seemed so vast, the space between the two of them. Athena's heart began to drum again and she wondered if his heart ever did the same in these moments.
Ares approached Athena with heavy footsteps and suddenly his visage was brought into the lunar light that washed over the room. Athena could see the scratches on his face and the scars on his chest where his shirt left him bare.
Before Athena could take him in, his large hands found their way to either side of her face and then down her neck. His fingers nimbly traced her skin as they went along and with a gentle tug, he pulled Athena towards himself. He placed a tender kiss on her forehead.
'U-uh, wait,' Athena fumbled her words, 'your neck, it…'
She couldn't find any words beyond those. Nudging Ares' hands away, she brushed his hair from his neck and found the wound. It had been neatly stitched and though it was unsightly, it was clean and would heal quickly. Athena let her index finger run along the length of it, her chest aching a little as she did.
'It's…' she felt herself wane under Ares' gaze, 'you're…you're an idiot.' Was all she could say.
A smile played on Ares lips. Clasping her wrist, he rested her hand on his cheek.
'Your servants did a decent job. They were a little heavy handed, maybe more so than necessary, but that was to be expected.'
Ares' eyes met Athena's. There was a fire in them, a hunger, that would not be satiated by idle chatter. They promised a lot of things and again, Athena felt like a flower caught in the blazing rays of the sun.
His hands found her waist as he pulled her into a kiss. Athena, startled, allowed herself to melt into him. It was unimaginable, just how warm he was. His mouth seemed to be the pit of a fire itself and Athena felt herself flush as their tongues met, the air between them becoming balmy. Suddenly, she resisted.
'Wait,' she said, pulling away, 'I'm…I–'
Athena fumbled again. What was going on with her? There were words she wanted to speak but she didn't know what they were and if she had the time amidst this moment to say them.
Admittedly, Ares understood little of her hesitation or bumbling speech. He brushed his nose against hers and briefly met her lips with his own before grabbing her hand. Undoing a button of his shirt, he led Athena's trembling fingers to his chest and the scarred skin that covered it.
'You can touch me too, you know,' he laughed a little and Athena's ears burned, 'your hands needn't be so idle.'
Athena's fingertips explored him. Where there were scars, the skin was ridged and rubbery. However, where he had been left unscathed, the skin was smooth as marble. The contrast was intriguing to Athena and where her fingers passed over him, a trail of goose bumps formed on his skin.
Ares felt himself become impatient. He lowered his head and kissed her slender neck, the scent of her skin filling his head. He nipped at her skin with his teeth, growing bolder and biting a little harder. Athena applied some force to the hand on his chest and the mounting pressure roused Ares from his passion. He pulled away before gripping her waist.
'What is going on, Athena?'
'I don't know! I'm just…I'm feeling confused and…'
Ares inspected her face. It was an expression he had seen before. An expression, some might argue, he had conjured.
'You're afraid,' he said, watching her carefully. Athena swallowed.
'No, I…I'm not afraid of you, Ares,' Athena searched for the right words and finally they came to her, 'It's just that the times before…they were all in the heat of the moment, spontaneous. And now I'm thinking and feeling too much and…I think my heart is going to explode–'
Ares laughed softly and Athena's face could not burn any hotter. Indignant, she pinched him.
'You're excited, Athena. You're not going to explode.' Ares pulled her into him, encircling her frame with his arms. Wavering for a moment, Athena wrapped her arms around his neck.
'Excited?' Athena echoed.
'Yes, excited. And afraid. Your body is sounding a call of distress,' Ares pressed his chest as against Athena's as tightly as possible, 'and mine is responding.'
There, Athena felt it. The rapid beating of Ares' heart. It was like a little entity of its own, drumming hard as though it intended to force its way out of him. Ares pulled away and looked into Athena's eyes.
'Perhaps we should dance,' he said swaying to one side and then to the other.
'Dance?'
'Yes, dance. You do know what that is, don't you?' his movements picked up momentum, and though he met some resistance, Athena slowly begun to sway with him.
'To calm you nerves and explosive heart,' Ares grinned. Athena furrowed her brows.
'No,' she said, but his hands forced her hips to follow his, 'it's strange if there is no music.'
'There is music. The sounds of the night, the soft hooting of those murderous owls, the drumming in your own chest – it's all music in its own right, is it not?'
Athena's eyes widened and something in her belly fluttered. Had he always had this charm to him? Ares smirked, seeming to read her mind.
'Does it surprise you to know that even I can be cultured?'
'I didn't know you had such an appreciation for the arts,' Athena said quietly as she averted her eyes.
'In my heyday, I was considered quite the formidable dancer, believe it or not.'
'No,' her laugh tinkled, 'I don't believe it.'
'Gods and goddesses alike would cross the floor of the hall just for my hand.' Athena's laughter spread to Ares as the two swayed in the light.
'Your heyday,' she laid her head upon his chest and felt his chin brush against her hair, 'are you no longer in your heyday, then?'
Ares was quiet for a moment as he thought.
'No,' he said, 'none of us are. But we press on for what is destined for us. I, for one, choose to occupy myself,' Athena felt him press his lips into her wild locks, 'with more meaningful pursuits.'
A sweet chill crept down her spine. Her head felt light and hazy.
'And your heyday? Do you still revel in it, or has it passed?' he asked.
Athena thought back on the events of the last few months. Fragments of emotions flashed across her mind: pride, fury, shame, jealousy, joy, fear. Like a veil, these feelings obscured from her a time when her existence was marked by glory and service alone. She fought, she worked, she rested and the cycle repeated itself and had done so for millennia. She thought little about the future, unless it was Olympus', and not once did she fear the gaping void beside her head as she slept.
When was that? When were those halcyon days of glittering, empty valour?
Letting her hands slide from his neck down to his arm, her fingers made their way to his. Her feet firmly on the ground, she resisted Ares' swaying until he became still.
Curiously, Ares watched as she raised his hand and placed his fingers on the end of the soft, cotton belt of her nightdress. Clearly, she wanted him to hold it, and so he did.
Athena drew his hand away from her, unravelling the belt. Her dress, like milk, spilled down her body, exposing her taut, bare form.
She wondered what was going through Ares' mind as he stood motionless. What body did Ares see? Was the form shapely enough? Junoesque? Did it lack the curves and silken skin of those who had inhabited his bed before? Was it merely a scarred and rigid husk marred by inexperience?
Only the sleeves of the dress clung to Athena's arms. Capturing both of Ares' hands, she led them to her waist and allowed them to travel and explore the curve of her breasts. Ares' fingers brushed the fresh scare once again, but Athena did not flinch.
'Your hands,' Athena looked into his eyes, 'needn't be so idle.'
Perhaps one of the vicious owls that attacked Ares, in the whirlwind of feathers and flashing beaks, made its way into his open flesh and beneath his skin. Perhaps several had done so. How else would he explain the furious fluttering of wings in his belly, or the talons that gripped his heart as he looked upon Athena, threatening to tear his beating vessel to pieces?
Ares, sweat pooling between his shoulder blades, allowed Athena to have him explore her as she wished. She was laden with old wounds from battles and battles ago, every ridge and scar shimmering in the moon's light. Ares traced her wounds with his fingers, as she had done to him, the fire within him burning unbearably. She seemed anxious, hesitant – this state of exposure was not natural to her. Ares gazed into her eyes and found a profound sorrow and longing that, immediately, he sought to alleviate.
The two gods embraced and seemed to merge together, becoming one. Ares' hips ached as Athena pulled him onto the bed. Their fumbling hands worked to relieve him of his night clothes, discarding the fresh linen attire to the floor.
His face was so warm, Athena thought as Ares' buried himself into the crook of neck, kissing her. It was as though a flaming serpent had constricted about her as his kisses travelled to her throat, her clavicle and then her chest. His eyes met hers as his lips made their way above her breast.
A sharp tingle spread across Athena's chest as Ares' took her into his mouth. The sensation was too bizarre, too sensitive. His eyes preyed upon her as he watched her squirm, fighting back sounds of pleasure and his own hips throbbed in response. He parted from her momentarily, a sinew of saliva trailing from her breast to his tongue.
'It takes only this much?' Ares said watching her curiously. Eyes fixed on her flushed face, he blew cool air onto her nipple. Athena shuddered, covering his mouth with her hand. A small laugh emitted from his chest.
'No more teasing,' Athena huffed, her eyes misty. Ares drew her hand from his lips, kissing it tenderly before releasing it.
'Teasing is the best part,' he said, his eyes veiled by a curtain of dark hair, 'in fact, its necessary some would say. Especially in your case.'
'What does that mean?' Athena retorted, a shiver running across her body.
Ares slipped his hand beneath Athena and she felt her back leave the warm sheets of the bed as he lifted her towards him. A kiss landed on her belly before the sharp twinge of teeth against her flesh. Threading her fingers through Ares' hair, she trembled with anticipation.
'Last time,' Ares alternated between kisses and bites, 'We were impatient and I hadn't considered how new this all is to you.' His free hand travelled from her waist to her hip and finally landed at her thigh where he allowed his fingertips to sink into her skin.
'Back then,' Ares panted, his breath warm, 'I should have done some preparation,' his hand slowly travelled over her thigh, caressing the inner most part until it reached its destination, 'I should have done this.'
Athena gasped, an electric jolt passing through her hips and into her belly. Gripping Ares' arm, she trembled.
'See this,' Athena felt Ares' voice rumble through her, 'is a bit like a button. You touch it, press it, stroke it in every direction and if the combination is right, it will dispense…honey.'
Her hips bucked uncontrollably. Frustrated, she tugged on Ares' hair, forcing him to look up at her. A regrettable decision, as his eyes ravaged her and only made her tremble more.
'I-I know what that is,' her voice was smaller than she had hoped, 'you don't need to explain it like I'm an idiot.'
Ares' warm laughter spread across Athena's body. She must have sounded like exactly the idiot she argued she wasn't.
'You've explored this territory then? My, my,' Ares kissed Athena's ribs, 'I hope you thought of me when you did.'
Ares, now entirely attuned to her body, took no hesitation before plunging his fingers deep within her. A rattling sound of pleasure escaped her and there was nothing she could do to control it. Ares was right. They did not do this before. Their previous encounter was passionate, clumsy and marked by urgent desperation. Now their passion was metered, her pleasure curated by masterful hands. It was unbearable. It was incredible.
Athena gripped Ares' wrist, her heart drumming relentlessly. Did she want him to stop? To go deeper or to be bolder? His fingers worked, slowly massaging her and drawing out the evidence of her pleasure as his eyes watched her hungrily. She tightened her grip around his wrist, prompting him to tighten his own grip around her and drawing her trembling form closer towards him.
'Ares,' she muttered and their eyes met, 'please…'
Ares' heart panged. Her eyes, welling and misty, implored him desperately. Up until this moment, he had managed to quell the fire within him just enough play this game with her. But now her eyes pleaded for more. The flames within him swelled and throbbed. He would oblige.
The moon's cool, silver light burnt into the night as a fire sprung to life in the hearth of the room's fireplace. An amber glow filled every inch of the room.
Finally, Athena could see Ares. The tension in his taut muscles, the sweat that glistened on his skin, his expression. The ecstasy that that her body brought him.
She could see herself; her trembling hands as they reached for Ares' face. They smoothed back his damp hair and cupped him. His movement slowing, he closed his eyes and allowed his hands to travel along Athena's body before clutching the gentle hands that caressed his face.
'Ares,' Athena spoke. His eyes flew open to find Athena gazing into him, her eyes like glimmering like dark crystals.
'Don't hold back.'
He curled himself into her, not a single inch of space to spare between their chests. Each thrust relieved the ache in his hips only before desire could pool into them again. Athena's arms gripped Ares as she felt herself racked with a pleasure and pain she could not have imagined. In the heat of that dense room, they merged and moulded into one another. Their forms shifted from shape to shape and they cast quivering, undulating shadows across the room. Ares' pants became Athena's and Athena's cries became Ares' and, in this moment, not even the crumbling of Olympus could part them.
Ares threaded his fingers through Athena's and looked into her eyes. Athena, barely able to discern his features in the mist that surrounded them, looked into his. His gaze asked a question – her gaze affirmed an answer.
The fire in the hearth erupted, sending embers flying into the air. The two gods who spent their existences apart finally came together.
Moments passed. Athena watched embers dance through the air above her. She felt Ares chest rise and fall against hers as the little embers landed on his back, disappearing into his damp skin. Finding the strength in his arms again, he pushed himself from her before collapsing beside her with a thud. Her skin pricked. Suddenly she realised how chilly the air could be without the warmth of Ares' body atop hers. She watched the ceiling in the silence. Ares' hand slid onto her belly and she slid her hand onto his, feeling the warmth of him once again.
Mustering up the little energy left within her, she manoeuvred a stray sheet out from under her damp back. Tugging at it, she drew it over herself, making sure to drape Ares in enough linen. As Athena covered him, he curled his arm around her waist, drawing her closer. Their legs intertwined like vines, Athena ran her fingers through Ares' hair, smoothing back the stray locks as he kissed along the length of her neck. The little energy the two had left they used for this and this alone, but that energy was only so much.
As the embers in the air disappeared and the fire in the hearth diminished, the two lovers succumbed to slumber in the blue light of the cold moon.