CHAPTER XXV

Warning: Dark, Mature Themes

Author's Note: This chapter was actually meant to be much longer to compensate for the long wait, but I've decided to upload up until this much so that the wait isn't too long. I need a bit of rest but the next chapter should be up shortly; enjoy!

Hera mused over Persephone.

Her form was slight, delicate and framed by a mane of hair the colour of autumn leaves. Peeking out from among the locks were a pair of prominent ears, child-like and rosy at the tips. Her laughter carried the tune of songbirds, her movements were careless and surreal and amid all this she bore a natural naivety that made her doe-eyes shine.

Blessed with juvenile ignorance, graced with a docile nature and bearing a ravenous curiosity for the realms – she barely knew just how formidable she was.

The Queen averted her eyes and looked off into the gardens.

Hmph.

For all Demeter, Persephone and Hestia's chatter, she could not prevent her mind from wandering. When she could find her focus, she gazed upon them, envious of their ignorance.

Two and a half weeks since the hearing. A week and a half since Ares left.

The King, perhaps revelling in the absence of the two, regained his vigour and gallivanted about with characteristic insouciance. The inhabitants of Olympus existed peacefully, oblivious to the absence of one their own and the impending threats that loomed over their heads.

For a moment, Hera shut her eyes, praying Hades would return Ares to her safely.

'Sister,' she felt a hand rest upon her thigh, 'you seem ill at ease.' Opening her eyes, Hera was met with Hestia's gaze. Her dark, kind eyes searched Hera's expression.

The goddesses sat close together on a woven mat at the centre of a small private garden at the King's Palace. The air around them was fragrant with the scent of freshly blossoming flowers; an array of coloured petals surrounding them. Picked-apart trays of fruits and treats lay among them and several servants floated about nearby, awaiting the inevitable request for more.

The picnic was impromptu, which wasn't how Hera usually did things – but then again it was not her idea. Zeus, having noticed Hera's glum disposition over the past few days, suggested she host a tea-party or some other paltry ladies' gathering to raise her spirits. Hearing his words, Hera looked at him but perhaps her gaze was colder than she knew. The conversation ended there but it was only a day later that the three women arrived unannounced, feigning a spurn of spontaneity.

Hera did not have the heart to turn them away – Hestia in particular. It was not often that she left her temple to travel so far out. As for Demeter, it was hard to get rid of her on a good day and Persephone was merely a by-product of her presence.

'Do I?' Hera picked a grape from its bunch and popped it into her mouth. The juice was sweet but it did not compliment her palate today.

'You should know quite well by now, Hestia,' Demeter began, lounging with the sun on her face, 'the Queen no longer dares to share her troubles with mere pissants such as ourselves.'

Plucking a seed from her tongue, Hera flicked it in Demeter's direction.

'You and these seeds are getting far too bitter for my liking,' she eyed Demeter dangerously. Demeter stuck her nose in the air and turned to Hestia.

'See? Haughty as ever. She'll never change,' she grumbled. Hestia smiled.

'Well, I think that haughtiness suits her,' reaching over she caught a lock of Hera's hair and brushed it over her shoulder. It fell neatly in place beside the rest of them.

Hera glanced at Hestia with apprehension. Her sister's eyes were far too gentle and her smile too warm. Hera had always been fond of Hestia's bronze, aged skin and the way her eyes creased at the corners when she laughed. In the past, it would take little prodding to make her bare her soul to her Hestia, a natural confidant. But Demeter was right: as the Queen, she could no longer afford to divulge her deepest secrets to those around her so carelessly. Nowadays, it was better practice to exercise some caution.

Hestia sensed her disquiet and decided against pressing the issue further.

'Well I think,' Demeter started loudly, 'the grapes and their seeds would be much sweeter if they were grown under the supervision of someone like myself—'

'I am not allowing you anywhere near my vineyards. Or my orchards. Or any of the groves. Overseeing the gardens and harvest of the King's Palace is my job.' Hera said flatly.

Demeter threw her hands up, collapsing on the mat.

'You. Are. Incredible. You always need your fingers in every pot when you have Olympus' gardening and harvest expert at your disposal to see to your gardens every day, if need be.'

'Absolutely Not. You? At the palace? Every day? Ha!' Hera scoffed, tossing another grape into her mouth, 'and besides, you could never match my eye for landscaping and design.'

'Eye for design?' Demeter's eyes were as wide as disks, 'you have yellow marigolds growing beneath a wisteria tree.'

'Yellow and purple are complimentary colours, you uncultured swine!' Hera huffed, her face red and hot.

Demeter gasped, indignant. She gaped at Hera unblinkingly.

'Uncultured swine? Ha!' she finally said, flopping onto her stomach, 'Fresh coming from a heifer who isn't getting any from her bull.'

Hera raised her hand high into the air and landed on Demeter's bottom with a loud smack.

'Ah!' Demeter clutched her cheek, flipping onto her side, 'you bi—umff!'

Hestia shook with laughter, her veil almost slipping from her head. She turned to Persephone and noted her beet-red face and quivering shoulders. The girl was really making an effort not to bowl over with laughter.

'Persephone,' she said, adjusting her veil, 'did you ever think your mother and the Queen were capable of bickering like this?'

Persephone could barely mask her amusement, but as soon as Hera's eyes fell upon her, she shrunk into herself.

'No,' she said tentatively, a small smile on her lips, 'I suppose I did not.'

The languid afternoon continued beneath the rays of the golden sun. The goddesses chatted, bickered, exchanged gossip and culinary tips. Admittedly, Hera found the presence of her sisters to be an apt and rather pleasant distraction from the disquiet of her own mind.

However, Persephone's incessant tittering and whimsical whispering continued to capture her attention. Why had she been brought here anyway, if to do nought but giggle and stutter and be bashful about everything?

To sit so carelessly without so much of an inkling as to her husband's whereabouts, without the slightest insight into the scheming of his mind – how was that even possible?

'—You know, her knack for herbalism and botany is quite unrivalled. She's pretty much a potions master at this point, it's just about putting it into practice. I mean, when half her year is spent in the barren wastelands of the Underworld, how is she supposed hone her skills? The poor girl is left to sit on her hands for months and months before she can return to her studies.'

'—Perhaps she can aid with the attendance of the gardens here. What do you think, Hera?'

Her ears prickling at the sound of her name, Hera turned to Hestia, suddenly drawn from her thoughts.

'Think of what?' she asked. Demeter huffed, muttering something to herself about absent-mindedness.

'Of Persephone coming here to assist you with the gardens,' Hestia placed her hand on Persephone's shoulder, 'It would lighten your workload and I suppose it's as good as having Demeter's skills around—'

'Without my actual presence, seeing as it vexes you so,' Demeter spat, 'she's excellent at brewing growth tonics for struggling sprouts and her anti-wilting agent is quite effective.'

'Well I—' Persephone's voice shrunk with each word, 'If…if Lady Hera feels that she needs no assistance, maybe we shouldn't force her—'

'Nonsense!' Demeter scrutinised a date before tossing it into her mouth, 'think of it as an apprenticeship of sorts. There's not much you can do at my temple because most of the work is already done by the time you return from the Underworld. Really, this palace has the most extensive collection of fauna for you to tend.'

Persephone glanced up at Hera. The Queen's uncompromising air of pride and haughtiness made her expression unreadable most of the time. With strong, defined features, full lips – often pursed – and long, dark lashes that shielded steely eyes, Persephone found her mere presence to be formidable. Even in a setting as casual as this one, just sitting across from her felt daunting – and even more so when their eyes met.

'You don't have work to do at your own temple?' Hera asked. Persephone fiddled with the hem of her dress.

'Actually,' Persephone glanced at Demeter, 'I do not have one as of yet. My mother and I live beneath the roof of her temple together.'

'Oh Hera, don't be such a stick in the mud,' Demeter patted Hera's knee with greater force than necessary, 'Persephone used to wander about the forests surrounding this palace long before taking up the throne in the Underworld. She's more than familiar with what you're growing around here; at least consider giving her a trial of sorts to demonstrate her skill.'

Hera watched Demeter stuff her ruddy cheeks with more fruit before returning her gaze to Persephone. She inspected the girl for a moment, mulling over her own thoughts as she did. Persephone picked at the woven mat, avoiding the Queen's eyes.

'A trial, you say?' Hera said quietly, 'Then let that trial be today.'

Gathering the hem of her dress, Hera pushed herself off of the mat. Persephone started as she watched her get up.

'What? Now?' Hestia looked up at her, bewildered, 'I'm sure it can wait, sister. Why not finish our meal first?'

'Demeter is well on her way to doing that for all of us,' Hera signalled to the nearby servants to collect the empty trays, 'besides if she wants to tend to the gardens here, its best she learn quickly that those who work under my supervision do not have the luxury of lounging beneath the sun. Come.'

With that final command, Persephone scrambled to her feet, dusting off her dress.

'Well would you look at that?' Demeter grinned, 'Our Hera can indeed take some constructive advice. What will you have her do? Hurry up, Persephone.'

Demeter waved her hand at Persephone and the goddess skipped over trays and followed Hera without delay.

'I have a rosemary garden but the herbs have a weak fragrance,' Hera waved away a servant intent on following them, 'perhaps after some inspection, Persephone can find a way to enhance it.'

Hera followed the stone mosaic path that led out of the picnic area with Persephone in tow. Demeter called after them but her words escaped Hera's ears as the two disappeared down the path, lined with tall trees whose leaves obscured the sky above them.

The sun would be setting soon and deep orange light already burned through the clouds. It managed to spill through the small spaces between the tree leaves, casting patterns over the goddesses' forms. Persephone watched light swim across Hera's back as the Queen led her down the path wordlessly.

This felt a little unusual, she thought. The times she had seen Hera at the palace, she was never unaccompanied by her handmaidens and servants. To be alone with her like this now was almost suffocating. Persephone was quite impressed by the tension Hera could inspire within her.

The two walked for what felt like ages and knowing just how extensive the palace's gardens were, Persephone knew she would be subjected to this silence if she did not cleave it herself.

'Lady Hera, I must say,' she cleared her throat, 'I am…truly in awe of your work here on the palace grounds. I, for one, admire your flair for design.'

Hera strode forward in silence. Persephone could hardly bare the discomfort as she awaited a response.

'I believe I owe it,' she finally spoke, 'to my husband. His absence from my work has allowed it to blossom without interruption. Despite how he has ruled in the past, he offers me great freedom.'

Persephone nodded with fervour, preparing in her mind what she would say next.

'Well I—'

Stopped in her tracks, Persephone almost collided with the Queen as Hera spun around suddenly, halting before her. Confronted with Hera's stare, Persephone shrunk, her heartbeat quickening.

'Am I to believe it is not the same for you? You too are a queen,' Hera bore into her, 'even if only for half the year. So, you must understand this sentiment; or am I to believe that Hades does not offer you this sort of freedom?

Persephone searched Hera's face. Stern and stony, she decided against trying to discern the goddess' expression, the intention behind her words. Her tone spoke for her.

'Your mother believes that you spend six months in the Underworld twiddling your thumbs, unable to hone your skills or expand your studies. Knowing your husband's passion for botany, is that what you would have me believe?'

Her palms becoming damp; Persephone froze. Her throat became dry as she waned beneath Hera's eyes. Mind fogged with confusion, she stuttered.

'I-I don't…' she was almost inaudible, '…no, that's—'

'He is good to you, is he not?'

'Yes…'

'Yes,' Hera nodded, feeling a pain in her chest, 'he is. And yet you would have your mother misconceive him, his realm and how you live within it.'

'Lady Hera, I'm—'

'Shameful,' Hera hissed. Her eyes seemed to burn with vitriol and freeze over with contempt all at once, 'Shame on you: flouncing about like a little girl, feigning blissful ignorance when you return to Olympus. Is it that you are so burdened with the truth of his machinations that you can sit comfortably while his name is smeared before you?'

Goosebumps spread across Persephone's shoulders. She felt her cheeks become hot and her eyes burn with desperation.

'I…what are you…machinations? What machinations?'

'Don't dare,' Hera's voice dropped dangerously low, 'try to deceive me. I'm sure he entrusts you with many, many secrets and you will divulge them to me here, today. Tell me the truth – what plans does he have against Olympus?'

'Plans?'

'Parroting me will not make me relent,' Hera fumed, 'what do you know? Just because these beast attacks started over spring does not ensure that he had not been planning for it long before. I am sure he must've let slip something to you – tell me!'

Persephone took a step back, feeling her knees tremor. The trees suddenly felt closer, the light that flooded through their leaves a little too bright.

'I don't know anything about any plans against out kingdom; Hades wouldn't do something like—'

'What would you know?!' Hera boomed; the leaves rustled restlessly, 'What would you know of him? Not even millennia have passed since your union and you claim to know what he would and would not do? You know nothing!'

The trees watched them in silence and birds cooed in the distance. Tears welled in Persephone's doe-eyes and her lips trembled. She clutched the pleats of her dress.

'Hades is…' she began, fighting the ball in her throat, 'Hades wouldn't hurt us. I know he wouldn't…he's gentle and—'

The tears rolled down Persephone's cheeks as she lowered her head, unable to meet Hera's glare. Her fists clenched, she shook with each hiccough and tried to fight the trembling in her voice.

'He's not like that…' she muttered.

Hera felt her throat become warm. Glancing up at the shards of sky above them, she felt a burning behind her own eyes. She set them upon Persephone's quaking form. Images of her private garden came to mind; images of little pitch-black birds, dark figures walking in the moonlight and ghostly flowers swaying in the breeze. How had things become like this?

'I know.' She said softly.

Why wouldn't the tears stop? Persephone wondered. They continued to roll and roll, each breath becoming laboured and harder to take. She so desperately wanted to compose herself before the Queen, to sniffle away the sobs and stand with conviction, but her aching chest would not allow her.

Hera felt tears well in her own eyes, but with a sniff and a hard swallow they disappeared before they could traverse her cheeks. She watched the young goddess, wondering when her sobbing would cease. Light flooded her form; even in this state, she was still radiant as ever.

'Pull yourself together. If you truly love him, you will defend his honour. You will protect his name against denigration. Always.' Hera felt a warmth behind her eyes again and Persephone was sure that amidst the sound of her own wailing, she heard the Queen's voice quiver.

Hiccoughing, the young goddess swallowed a sob before it could escape her. She nodded fervently until the muscles in her neck became taut and bit back the last few sobs until she was left huffing, desperately trying to get her breath back.

Ignorant. Docile. Sincere.

As Persephone nodded, her shoulders square and cheeks flushed, a faith that Hera never had bloomed. She was certain that Persephone would heed her words. She was certain that she had more faith in the girl to do what she could not.

The two goddesses started at the sound of footsteps on the path. A figure hurtled towards them before coming to a stop and offering a low bow. With a few locks out of place and the strap of her dress sliding from her shoulder, a young handmaiden presented herself.

'Your Grace!' the she said, huffing, 'Your Grace and Lady Persephone, forgive my intrusion, but I must inform you – Masters Hades and Ares have arrived in the foyer and request
Your Grace's presence urgently!'

*.*.*

Lights swam before Ares' eyes as they refused to focus. The sound of bustle and movement filled his head – voices, footsteps. With his legs feeling like lead, a strong grip on his bicep kept him upright.

'There-there, you're being a bit dramatic, don't you think?' a voice came from beside him, 'You two over there. Attend to him.'

The grip on Ares' arm loosened and he found himself on the ground, beneath his hands the cool marble. More hands caught him, seeming to pull him in every direction.

'Ares!' Hera rushed into the foyer with a slew of servants at her back. Two servants struggled to keep her son upright as Hades towered over them, observing with relative nonchalance. Her gaze met Hades' for a moment before she stooped to inspect Ares' condition.

His skin was as white as paper, the gaze in his eyes distant as his lids fluttered open and closed. He seemed to be muttering but Hera could not hear his words.

'Ares,' she cupped his face, brushing a stray curl from his forehead, 'Ares…what's…?'

A powerhouse of muscle and sporting an impressive height, Ares was heavy. The two servants struggled to hold him as he slumped in their arms. Hera turned her attention to Hades who mused over the scene with an empty expression.

'You…' she began before neutralising her tone, 'what has happened to him?'

'He's only suffering the effects of interdimensional travel,' he said flatly, 'it won't kill him. Passing through multiple realms costs a great amount of energy, his will need time to replenish.'

Hera knew little of the topic but could not bring herself to trust Hades' words so easily. Seeming to read this on her face, Hades nodded at Ares.

'Ask him,' he said, 'ask him what he saw.'

An overwhelming nausea assailed Hera. Part of her urgently wanted to know the results of their travels – a greater part of her did not.

'Ares, look at me.' she spoke softly. Her voice finally reached Ares' ears.

'Mother…' his voice was hoarse and distant.

'Listen to me: I'll call for Apollo to come here and treat you at the palace, alright? Don't exert yourself; we'll make you a room and—'

Ares gripped Hera's arm and his hazy eyes met hers briefly.

'Mother, I saw him. Typhon, he's…the spawning…the beasts…I saw it.'

Hera's stomach dropped. She desperately searched Ares' face, his lips. Had those words truly come from his mouth? There must have been a mistake.

'What…what do you mean, Ares? That's…' Heshera shook her head, her heart drumming.

'The things Hades said,' Ares struggled to focus on her, 'it…its true.'

Her hands became numb and cold. Suddenly, she was drowning. Yes, like in a pool, her robes swallowing her form so that she could not kick or swim. The surface was disappearing.

Hades' voice tore her from the waters.

'Tartarus is fed up,' he said, 'the more Typhon makes a fuss, the less inclined he is to restrain him. I have tried to reason with him, but the situation is becoming dire.'

Hera heard him and somehow did not. Feeling her breathing become short, she began to assess her situation before her thoughts could overwhelm her. First, Ares' health needed to be addressed. That was imperative.

'Send for Apollo,' she commanded and the nearest servant took off without delay, 'the two of you: don't have him rolling about on the floor here, take him to a room.'

'I'm fine,' Ares' protested, shoving a servant from him before stumbling, 'I'm…I just need to—'

'You are not fine. Do not fight me, Ares,' Hera nodded at the servants, 'take him. Go!'

Hades watched as the two servants, along with the help of those nearby, struggled to get Ares to his feet. As he regained his strength, Ares' resisted but Hera's words pacified him. She looked at Hades, her expression stern.

'I thought you said that you did not want to become the liaison between Olympus and Tartarus. I'm surprised you agreed to this.' She said. Hades' did not emote.

'For all your boy's shortcomings,' he began, 'he has taken more action than what I have seen of those around him. I was moved by his courage to venture into Tartarus.'

He glanced around, inspecting the something beyond the foyer.

'Where is Zeus?' he asked. Hera turned her attention to the servants who stumbled along with Ares towards the private wings of the palace.

'Out, making his rounds.' She said.

'Cavorting,' Hades scoffed, 'and at such a time as thi—'

His eyes suddenly widened, warm light flickering within them. Colour drew itself to the surface of his face and his lips parted as if to speak. He wasn't looking at Hera; he no longer addressed her. His eyes looked beyond her and Hera did not need to follow his gaze to know what he was looking at.

She turned away, her face darkening.

'Demeter is in the gardens nearby,' she said, 'so make your meeting with the girl covert if not brief.'

Without so much as a glance at her, Hades brushed past Hera and disappeared from her sight.

'It's only been a season without her,' Hera muttered, 'to act like this is—'

Shameful.

Hera closed her eyes briefly. Shaking her head, she strode off, tailing her stumbling servants and son.

*.*.*

Athena arrived at Zeus' palace, her brow damp with sweat. The collar of her dress stuck to her skin as she dismounted her steed and hurried to the entrance.

Ares was back.

Not even an hour before, she received a message from Apollo imploring her to come to the palace urgently, for Ares' sake. Without hesitation, Athena dropped her work and rode across the plains of Olympus.

She burst through the foyer searching for answers. Usually her reception at the palace was much warmer, far more attentive, but the staff seemed to bustle with distress, blind to her presence. Where was Hera? There was hardly ever this much disorder when she was around.

'You!' she stopped one who started at her call. The young maiden bowed reverently, apologising for not having noticed her sooner.

'Where is he? Where is Ares?' she asked, her heart pounding. The maiden's soft expression suddenly darkened.

'Follow me, milady,' she said, her voice quiet yet resolute. Spinning on her heels, she led the goddess out of the foyer and towards the endless, winding staircases of the palace.

Athena hobbled, grimacing as she tried to match the young servant's quick pace. A wrestle with a wild, two-headed boar earlier in the week had left her knee with an unsightly scar and a terrible pain that shot through her hip with every step. Quelling the spawnings had undoubtedly kept her busy throughout the week, but they could not filter out the anxiety that racked her throughout it.

For a week and a half, Athena held her breath.

Hades was a god of great power who could move through the realms at will and had been doing so for millennia upon millennia. However, Ares was not of the same ilk. In fact, no Olympian was, hence why not a single one had dared venture into Tartarus. To wait for him, for news of Ares' safety was torture.

Now Apollo was calling her to the palace 'urgently' and she did not know what to think. Her stomach churned as the servant led her through a wing of the palace.

Zeus' palace felt like a maze, with endless rooms, dozens of floors and snaking staircases that could make anyone's head spin. Athena had heard that this design choice was in part Hera's idea. By making the palace's navigation tricky, intruders, foolish thieves and wayward creatures would be rendered baffled and disoriented before they could infiltrate the most vital and sacred areas of the palace. As ingenious as it was, to Athena it was equally troublesome for her anxious heart and aching knee.

Arriving at a door, behind which there seemed to be quite a commotion, the young servant turned to Athena, entreating permission with her gaze.

'Open,' Athena nodded. What would she find behind this door? What had become of Ares?

The servant nodded and despite her small frame, swung the door open with ease. Athena forced her way past her and into the room. The scene that unfolded before her eyes only proved to bemuse her.

'Stop…stop! I said I am fine!' Ares roared as Apollo held him fast to the bed. He struggled against Apollo's grip and Apollo struggled against his strength. Nearby servants observed the scene, hesitating about whether or not to intervene.

'You need…to rest!' Apollo said with equal rage, stumbling as Ares shoved him with force.

'Apollo, leave me—' Ares huffed, his breath leaving him. Taking advantage of his lapse in power, Apollo pushed him further into the bed.

'See, your energy is still—' capturing something in the corner of his eye, Apollo glanced at the door, 'Oh, Athena.'

With one last shove, Apollo sent Ares' head flying into a pillow before turning to Athena and dusting off his robes. Ares groaned, his strength deflating as he sunk into the bed.

'You're here!' Apollo chirped; his eyes bright. He approached Athena with resident warmth.

'What…what are you doing to him?' Athena glanced between Ares and Apollo, bewildered.

'Please, don't misunderstand,' he said with a smile, 'I'm only getting him to stay in place so as not to further fatigue himself. You arrived with no delay; I see.'

'Well you said it was urgent,' Athena approached the bed, 'I…is he alright? What's happened?'

'He will be perfectly fine with some rest. Travelling across the realms seems to have misaligned his divine energy, zapping him of most of his strength. To cross vastly different dimensions is an arduous task in itself, but to enter and exit Tartarus – a realm that purposefully weakens its inhabitants – has taken its toll.'

'Ramblings…' Ares' murmured as he struggled to sit himself up, 'of a madman…divine energies and misalignments…I'm fine, I just need to return to…'

Athena sat down beside him. His skin was pale and violet rings circled his eyes. She brushed his hair from his face.

'Ares, it's me,' she said quietly. Ares blinked hard, his eyes refusing to focus. Finally, Athena came into view. With a damp, cool hand, he grabbed her wrist.

'…Athena,' he sighed deeply, his thumb stroking her skin. Like clay in water, he melted into the sheets with slow breaths. Watching the sudden calm wash over his face, Athena sighed with what felt like her first breath since the week started. He was safe.

'I had a feeling that calling you over here would do wonders,' Apollo said, ushering the few servants that remained out of the room, 'he has been disoriented since his arrival and the realigning process has made his energies fluctuate sporadically, making him rather restless. Regardless, I apologise if I alarmed you.'

Ares' chest rose and fell and Athena watched it, near mesmerised by its rhythm.

'It's alright,' she said, Apollo's words washing over her head. He noticed the absence of her attention to him, but did not hold it against her. In fact, he felt a tenderness within himself, seeing the two gods together.

'Even though I had suggested to Hera that he spend the next few days here under her supervision, he fiercely protested against it and demanded to return to his domain. To do so he will need an escort…I thought perhaps you would be willing to see him there; supervise him through the night?'

Athena's ears burned as she heard Apollo's final words. She was reminded of the incident at Apollo's healing pools – and now this. Without so much as offering him her gaze, she addressed him.

'I think you enjoy match-making too much,' she said brusquely, 'I suggest you remedy your tendency to meddle.'

The intention of her tone did not escape Apollo. He understood her sudden bitterness – regardless of how conspicuous hers and Ares' relationship might have seemed to him, she was still a creature of privacy. He smiled ruefully.

'I suppose you're right,' he said quietly, 'but for all my meddling, I still think you best person to send for.'

Athena wouldn't admit it in this moment, but she was glad he did.

'Where is Hera? I thought she would be here.'

'Out trying to catch her husband, I heard. The servants informed me that he has been 'making his rounds' on account of his chipper mood.'

'Spurred by my absence, no doubt,' came Ares' voice from beside Athena. Started by his sudden coherence, Athena watched with anticipation as his eyes opened slowly. Dreary as they were, they fixed upon her.

She knew he was probably right.

'Well,' Athena stroked his cheek, 'are we to believe he'll stay that way after he hears your report? What did you see there, Ares? In Tartarus.'

Apollo shifted, filled with equal parts dread and anticipation.

'It is as Hades said. Typhon, wrapped in a thousand chains…dormant yet…' Ares' words trailed off as his vision swam once more. His head pounded – it felt like he was on a boat in a tumultuous sea that had not stopped rocking since he arrived. Athena, seeing the pain in his expression, hushed him.

'It's alright, don't over exert yourself—'

'Zeus must know,' he said with sudden force, '…he must know that it is true. I saw it with my own eyes…beasts of all kinds crawling out from beneath Typhon's belly, escaping the chains…disappearing through portals…I saw it.'

Athena's stomach knotted as the room became dangerously silent. She turned to look at Apollo, whose face had drained of its colour. Maintaining an eerie stillness, he returned Athena's gaze.

'I shall report it when Zeus returns.' he said, his expression dark. Athena nodded. She turned to Ares.

'Ares, let's go. Let me take you to your domain.'

*.*.*

'I can walk on my own two feet, you know.'

'Every time you've said that, you've near collapsed. So just bear it, we're already here.'

The large, lavish doors to Ares' private quarters creaked open and the two staggered inside, Ares' arm around Athena's shoulder and her arm supporting him at the waist.

With an injured knee and Ares' weight on her shoulder, Athena was surprised they managed to make it up the staircase without stumbling more times than they already did. She was sure that, had they tumbled back down, the bevy of fawning servants who followed them close by would have cushioned their fall.

The ride over had not been a simple one. Athena had borrowed a chariot from the palace's fleet – along with a charioteer – and tossed Ares into the back of it, hoping he would sleep throughout the journey and cause as little trouble as possible. But as she expected, her hopes were too great.

Not even halfway through the ride did Ares awake, proclaiming that he had regained his strength and demanding that the charioteer pull over so that he may take command of the chariot himself. Riding alongside the chariot, Athena protested his idea and the two quarrelled ceaselessly until they arrived at his palace.

Batting his servants away from him, he again demanded that he be left to walk to his private quarters without aid. It took only a few steps before his knees gave out under him, sending him to the floor. Again, Athena protested his orders until finally he agreed to Athena's help and hers alone.

Now entering his private quarters, Athena could forget about climbing staircases, at least for the next few hours.

A fire erupted in the heart of the fireplace and roared with vigour as the two crossed the room. A deep, golden light filled it and illuminated its dark confines.

It had been some time since Athena visited this place. Now, with another glance, she noticed that the space seemed to have been designed to insulate heat. Furry, animal skin rugs and dark, rich fabrics accented the room. The overall decorative flair: indulgent, rugged and a little sultry. Just like him.

'Come, sit,' She said, leading him to the edge of the bed. In truth, Ares had regained some of his strength. His speech had become coherent and a sharpness returned to his eyes, but his body still needed a night of uninterrupted rest.

He landed on the bed's edge with a thud. Leaning forward, he cupped his face and sighed. For some time, he said nothing and Athena watched him closely as he caught his breath.

'My head can't decide whether it wants to stay atop my neck or spin off. It was just fine a minute ago.' He said. The light hit his skin and she noticed that it had lost some of its colour.

'You heard what Apollo said about the realigning process,' she tenderly placed her hand upon his head, 'With some time, it will all come right, so stop trying to rush everything.'

Noticing the beads of sweat that sprouted on his skin, Athena allowed her hand to travel to the nape of his neck. It was damp and hot.

'This must be a fever,' she muttered to herself, 'wait here. I'll call for some towels and cool water—'

A small gasp escaped her lips as Ares suddenly clutched her waist. Raising his head, he drew her towards himself and buried his face into her belly. Athena felt his lips press against her.

'You'll stay tonight, won't you?' his voice rumbled through her. She felt an uncontrollable chill spread across her body. Her heart fluttered.

'Yes,' she stroked his hair, 'of course I will.'

'Tomorrow too.'

'No,' her arms encircled him, 'I should go back to the palace in the morning; you just stay here; you've done your part. You're really running a fever, Ares. It's best we get you to cool down before—'

'Did you at least miss me?' he spoke again. His voice had a flatness to it. Athena searched for the words that she wanted to say.

'Do you really need to ask?' she said breathlessly, 'It felt like I was…I don't know…like I couldn't breathe, waiting to hear from you. And I'm still not sure that I can just yet.'

She held him tightly. Truly, when would she be able to breathe again? Olympus' ordeal had just begun.

Ares said nothing for some time. Athena felt him exhale deeply.

'Did you know that time works differently there in Tartarus? It's slower, much slower.'

'I didn't know that.'

'Neither did I. I was only down there for less than a day. To find out that, here on Olympus, I was gone for more than a week…well, it must just be another method of torture for the prisoners,' his gripped tightened and his voice dipped to a murmur, 'I don't know why I was surprised.'

Athena felt her stomach knot. For all Apollo's lofty talk about divine energies and dimensional travel, something did feel 'misaligned' to her. She refrained from exploring the subject with him as she felt the temperature of his skin rise.

'Ares, your fever really does have me concerned—'

'A bath,' he exclaimed, 'I just need a hot bath to sweat it out.'

'That is not how one treats a fever.'

'It's how I treat all of my ailments,' Ares looked up at her, 'if there is anything that will 'realign' me, it's a little bit of warmth.'

Athena hesitated at the thought of putting him in a sweltering, hot bath.

'I don't think it's safe for you in this state.'

'If you're so worried about me collapsing in there,' his eyes suddenly ignited, 'then join me.'