It was rare, that Ares and Apollon actually got along.
But their roles in the Trojan War four hundred mortal years earlier had given them a thing or two to bond upon.
Today was Apollon's birthday.
The god of light, music, healing and plagues made surprisingly little fuss about it, considering how often he insisted on being in the centre of attention, like the pretentious prick he often was. Yet, when it came to celebrating the anniversary of the day he was born, he asked for it to be treated like any other day. He never threw a party or allowed the others to throw him one, though he did accept birthday gifts and wishes. He didn't even remind people, that it was his birthday. Which was why it happened sometimes, that one god or the other completely forgot about it.
Ares wasn't one of those gods – he always remembered his siblings' and half-siblings' birthdays, every single one. That was his subtle way of showing, that he cared.
And that was why today he was himself to sit with his half-brother and endure his fancy and pretentious music, even though he hated it. Ares liked the sound of war flutes and Spartan war drums, but apart from that, music wasn't his thing at all.
The Mousai weren't present (they were busy spreading inspiration on earth), so the two so opposite half-brothers were alone – except for all the animals, who had heard Apollon's music and had gathered to listen. The god just had that inviting and calm vibe, that drew animals in, especially when he sang and played his lyre. Ares on the other hand had a farouche and cold aura, which kept most at a distance.
When an old she-wolf placed her head onto Apollon's lap, he paused his music for a moment.
"Hello there, old girl", he chuckled and fondly stroked her head.
Ares couldn't help but sigh in relief, because he had been close to falling asleep from the lulling music.
Apollon looked up. "Ares, you don't have to sit here and listen to me. I know you don't like my kind of music."
"Meh, it's fine", Ares assured him. "Just thought I might as well relax a little."
The younger god smiled: "If it's relaxing enough for you to fall asleep, I do not mind. Besides, you look like you could use a nap. And a make-over."
The war god blinked. "Huh? Do I have bags under my eyes again?"
"And dark rims. Also a few frowning wrinkles here and there. You look like an overworked middle-aged mortal." The blond handed him a mirror.
Ares beheld his own reflection and laughed: "Oh fuck, you're right! I look like shit!"
He concentrated on his reflection, his face freshened up and he looked as youthful as gods were supposed to (though he still looked older than the other second generation Olympians).
"Better", the war god nodded in satisfaction. "An' don't worry, Sunny. I'm fine. I just didn't get any sleep last night, no thanks to Zeus an' Hera."
"If you say so", the god of healing said doubtfully.
"Trust me on that", Ares assured the younger man, despite both of them knowing, that he was lying – the fact, that he was referring to his own parents by their names gave it away. But the god of truth had the tact to accept the lie without back talk.
"I still think you should treat yourself to a day off for self-care, though."
"Ya know I take care of myself as best as I can. I treat my body like a temple."
"That's true", the other admitted. "You have your physique to show for it."
"Damn right." Ares grinned and elbowed him playfully. "Admit it, ya like my looks. I've seen ya checkin' me out."
"I wouldn't deny it, even if I could", Apollon admitted candidly. "You are quite a handsome man – but also really unlikeable. So do me a favour and don't think I'm into you, just because my eyes have been wandering."
"Rest assured, I don't", the older god replied. "I wouldn't want ya to be anyway. Ya know how I feel about gettin' involved in that stuff. Speakin' o' which …"
"Yes?"
"When are ya gonna tell Hermes?"
The blond blushed bright scarlet and began to stutter helplessly, until Ares finally took pity. "Never mind, just take yer time. There's no such thing as bein' too prepared, after all."
Apollon arched an eyebrow. "That's coming from the war god, who rushes into battle and immediately starts slaughtering people left and right, without so much as an actual plan?"
"We're not talkin' about my main job here", Ares retorted. "I separate my work from my private life. My work is wreakin' havoc among mankind an' bringin' war, as well as performin' the duties of a crown prince – ya know, representation, paper work, all that jazz."
Awkwardly, Apollon rubbed the back of his neck and admitted sheepishly: "I always forget that you're the crown prince and how dutiful you really are – how much father trusts you with."
Ares shrugged: "It's okay. Besides, the fewer people know, how much I know, the better. I don't need them pesterin' me with questions about stuff I've sworn to be silent about."
The blond smiled wryly. "Pretty ironic, how much we know and how little of it we're allowed to tell, isn't it?"
"It is", Ares agreed. "An' you've seen how Daddy's Owl of all gods failed miserably to handle my princely duties; how she got us into trouble with the Romans."
Apollon shook his head. "I can't believe she failed at that. Of Pallas Athena, one would expect that she's careful and tactful."
"Don't blame her", Ares told him. "She's got the brains for it alright. What she lacks is experience. An' she never got the chance to get it, 'cause I'm not allowed to talk to anyone about it, let alone tell 'em how that stuff works. That stuff is confidential, it's between Zeus, grandaunt Thémis an' me, just like the works of fate are between him and you. There was no way she could've known, especially with how introverted she is."
"I suppose you're right", the younger god relented. "But still … you saw them back then. They were so … it was as if they were just waiting for an excuse to come at us."
"Oh trust me, they were!", Ares grumbled. "I've been dealing' with them for many centuries. The empire they're dreamin' of is yet to come, yet they're already itching to subjugate the entire Mediterranean, like the hubristic and power-hungry fucks they are (especially Mars – ugh, I hate that arsehole!). Even though as to date Roma is just a small city in Italy, they already act like they own the world- hey, Apollon, are you okay? Shit, what's wrong, you're shaking!"
"Ares … did you hear, what Mars said, before you interrupted?"
"I came right in as he was getting into my mother's face and started to brag about their so-called glorious future."
"And he said, that he and his pantheon could always fix their problem of not having a god like me … Ares, you should have seen his face!"
"Oh, I did!", the older god snarled. "And I swear on my immortality, if the situation hadn't been so dire, I would've run a spear through him right then and there!"
"I've seen the future", Apollon choked out – he was obviously on the verge of tears. "I've seen what is going to happen. The Roman gods and their mortals are going to … they're going to … oh Khaos, I'm frightened!"
"Hey! Hey!"
Before the light god could have a full-on panic attack, Ares grabbed his shoulders.
"Stop!", he ordered, calmly but sternly. "Look at me. Deep and slow breaths, do you hear me? Deep an' slow."
Wanting to help a little more, he allowed Apollon to lean into him. Ares hated body contact, but his younger half-brother needed the physical proximity right now. So he sucked it up and gently rubbed the other's back, as the blond sobbed into his shoulder.
"Shhhh …", he murmured, "Yes, that's right … just breathe. Listen, okay? Whatever scares you, it's yet to come. It's far ahead. Focus on the now. You're safe. You're with family. No one can hurt you now. Everyone and everything's alright. Shhhh …"
Somewhere along the line, the animals that were still here drew nearer and nuzzled the blond, sensing his distress in the way that only animals really could.
Ares couldn't help but chuckle at the display. "Animals really love ya, huh?"
"So what?", Apollon grumbled defensively. "Not everyone can be the unapproachable, stoic guy you are!"
"You flatter me, but I wasn't making fun of you. Here …" The black-and-red-haired god charmed a box of tissues into his hand and offered it to the other. "Want some?"
The Archer accepted the tissues and dabbed his face. "Thanks. Crap, that was pathetic …"
"Don't say that. It's not pathetic to be scared of the future – especially, if you know how shitty it's gonna be. But if you let it distract you from the present, it'll hurt you and ruin your life. So let's not talk about the future anymore, hm? After all, today's your birthday."
He felt the younger god sigh into the crook of his neck.
"You're right. Thank you, Ares. For being so understanding."
The war god chuckled: "Hey, we may not get along most of the time, but you're still my brother."
"Half-brother", Apollon corrected. "Do you remember, how you used to remind me of that all the time? How you always called me 'bastard', 'whoreson' and other charming things like that, and used the epithets 'Letoides' and 'Latôios'¹ in the most derogative manner you could?"
Ares laughed sheepishly: "Oh yeah. I did that, didn't I? Sorry for that."
He could hear the smile in Apollon's voice, as he accepted the apology.
Eventually the light god backed away. "I think I'm better now. Thanks again. I really needed that, I guess."
"Yeah, I could tell. An' you're welcome." Then he had an idea and smirked lopsidedly: "So, Sunny. Wanna hear somethin' crazy?"
The younger god shrugged: "Sure, what is it?"
"Has anyone ever told you I can actually sing?"
Apollon chortled: "Yeah, right! I'll believe it when I hear it!"
The older god's grin widened: "Play one of those cheerful dancin' songs you always perform at Dionysos' parties. And I'll sing to it."
Apollon grinned back and picked up his cithara. "Alright, Andreiphontês². Show me what you've got!"
...
Athena was making pottery again.
Apparently Zeus and Hera had had another vicious domestic and a lot of earthenware had got shattered. So they needed new vases and pots.
With a sigh she molded the rim of the pot.
Really, when would her father and his wife finally get to their senses and get marriage counselling or something like th-
"ATHENA, I NEED YOUR HELP!"
Athena yelped in surprise, as Hermes bust through the door, and accidentally squashed the still soft clay pot, rendering her work for nothing.
"Thanks a lot, Hermes! Now my work is ruined and I have to start all over!", Athena snapped, scrapped the clay and angrily threw it into a bucket of water.
"I'm sorry", he mumbled in the smallest voice she had ever heard him speak with.
That made her sit up more straightly.
"What do you want, Hermes?", she sighed. "Please make it quick, because Zeus and Hera are going through earthenware like papyrus and I have a lot of work still ahead of me."
"…"
The goddess's bright blue eyes narrowed. "You better not walk away like 'it wasn't important after all', after you made me ruin my own work! You busted in here and yelled at me to help you, so whatever it is, spit it out!"
"I … I just … want advice for a present."
Athena blinked and tilted her head. "Present?"
"Yes … present. Because today is Apollon's birthday."
"Oh."
Forgotten was the ruined pot.
It had almost slipped her mind (just almost, but still), that there was a birthday today (because for some incomprehensible reason Apollon insisted, that the mortals should celebrate his birthday, but not his fellow gods). He didn't even bother to remind others, when it was his birthday, even though it clearly hurt him, when they forgot.
"You want my advice on what you should gift him?", Athena queried, as she washed her hands. "Listen, I may be the goddess of good counsel, but you know Apollon much better than I d- oh no, Hermes, no! Don't give me that look! Stop it! Stop giving me those puppy eyes! Anything but those damn puppy eyes!"
"Pweeeeaase", Hermes whined and the puppy eyes intensified.
She sighed and dried her hands off. "Alright, fine. Well, I think you should give him something useful. Something he could use in everyday life. Hmm … he already has a lot of tunics and brooches and so on … oh, how about a hairband? With his impossibly long hair, he could always use one. Wait, I think I have a few pretty ones …"
She went over to her cupboard, got a wooden box from it and put it onto the table. "Here you go. You can pick two out of these – only two", she added warningly, when Hermes eyed the hairbands with a scheming expression.
The god of thieves huffed, but began to search through the bands for two he deemed good enough.
But he seemed to have trouble deciding. "I don't know, they're all so pretty …"
"Pick something that fits his hair and eye colour", Athena advised.
Hermes muttered under his breath, as he rummaged through the box.
Eventually he gasped and picked out two hairbands – both ruby red with golden embroidery.
"Ohhh, these are perfect!", he squealed in delight. "They'd look so beautiful in his hair! Thank you so much, Athena! You're the best big sister! Oh boy, I hope he likes his birthday present! Bye!"
Then he made off with the new hairbands.
The goddess of wisdom sighed and inspected the box, if more than two hairbands were missing. And sure enough, that little bastard had stolen three: a dark green one, a bright blue one and one coloured like bronze.
The black-haired woman shook her head with a fond sigh.
That silly, little kleptomaniac …
...
Hermes hurried across Olympos, eager to deliver his own present.
It took a while to find the person it was intended for.
To his great surprise, he found Apollon sitting with Ares on the sill of a large window.
To his even bigger surprise, Apollon was playing his lyre and Ares was singing to it.
That sight was absurd in a lot of ways, last but not least because of the fact, that those two almost never got along and had absolutely nothing in common, save their father and their terrifying anger.
Hermes hid behind a pillar and spied on the two from behind it.
The two so different half-brothers seemed to be having fun.
Something about this bothered Hermes. A lot.
Why are these two sitting so close together, why are they genuinely laughing with each other, why are they smiling like that, since when do these two make music together, Ares doesn't even like music, this makes no sense whatsoever, since when does Ares even like spending time with Apollon, hey you big bully, get away from my beautiful sunshine, wait, when the fuck did I start thinking like that, what the fuck is even going on here-
Luckily, before the brunet could rile himself up he remembered, that Ares was very much straight and Apollon wasn't into people with Ares' demeanour.
Hermes giggled. Silly him! He'd been jealous, just because those two were getting along for a change!
Apparently the two men had heard his giggling, because they abruptly stopped their music and looked around in alarm.
"Did ya hear that?", Ares noted.
"Yes, and I do hope that was just Hermes", Apollon remarked.
"SURPRISE!", Hermes shouted, jumping out of his hiding place.
The other two men screamed and Apollon dropped his lyre in shock. The animals that had been chilling with them, hurried to escape the perceived danger.
"DAMMIT, SQUIRT!", Ares squalled, "WHY'D YA SNEAK UP ON US LIKE THAT?!"
"Yes, for shame!", Apollon gasped out. "That was uncalled for, Hermes!"
"Are you kidding?", Hermes cackled, "That was a riot! You should have seen your faces-" But his laughter died instantly, when he saw Ares' dark expression.
"No, squirt, seriously! That wasn't funny! Sunny Boy had a mental breakdown earlier! His nerves are still raw as fuck and the last thing he needs is to have the crap scared out of him!"
The Messenger blanched, tackled hugged the blond god and grabbed his face.
"What happened?! Please tell me!", he pleaded.
"Hermes, let go, I'm okay now-"
"No, you're not!", Hermes cut him off. "Look at you, you're still so pale! Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to scare you like that!"
"It's nothing, I'm better now, really", the older god tried to reassure him. "Would you please let go of my face?"
"Oh. Sorry", the brunet muttered and complied. "Can you tell me what happened now? And how you two of all gods could … uh …"
"Sit together an' actually have some fun?", Ares supplied.
The Messenger nodded: "Yeah. That."
"Eh, we just bonded over confidential business – and no, I won't tell ya what it was", Ares added pointedly, when the other opened his mouth. "I just said it was confidential. And everybody knows that you can't keep a secret for shit, unless we make ya swear the Stygian Oath. So, sorry. Not tellin'."
Hermes frowned.
He hated when others had secrets from him, especially Apollon.
The god of sunlight, truth and prophecy was actually incapable of lying, so his only other option was to either speak in riddles, or fall silent altogether. It didn't matter what option Apollon chose, because being unable to be open always took a great toll on him.
By contrast, Ares was a natural; he dodged, lied, cheated, countered any attempt at prying and feigned ignorance, like it was second nature to him (which Hermes was sure it was). What he refused to reveal, people would never know.
But this time, much to Hermes' relief, Apollon told Ares, that it was fine.
Ares shot him a doubtful look, but told Hermes: "He's seen the future and it fucks him up, because the future sucks and the Roman gods do too. That's all I can say."
The Messenger nodded, knowing he would have to make with that answer. "Alright. Whelp, I'm sorry for my crappy timing. Should I come back later?"
Apollon smiled: "No, no. Stay here. Let's talk about more pleasant things. What did you come here for?"
"Oh, right!", Hermes cried and flashed the blond a mischievous grin.
The blond's golden eyes narrowed. "What are you plotting, you little cattle thief?"
The brunet laughed: "Just hold still and close your eyes!"
Apollon arched an eyebrow, but complied.
The younger god giggled and lost no time in tying up the other's long hair with the new red ribbons. They really did go perfectly with those golden curls.
"What are you doing?", the older god demanded to know.
"Just you wait … there! All done!"
Apollon opened his eyes and blinked in confusion, as Hermes held a mirror in front of him and one behind his head.
"Look! I got you new hair ties! Aren't they pretty?"
The brunet didn't fail to notice, how the cutest blush ever spread over the older god's pale face.
"Yes … yes, they are", Apollon said and turned his head to smile at his younger half-brother. "Thank you, Hermes. I love them."
"Happy birthday, Sunshine!", the Messenger laughed happily and gave the other a warm hug.
Suddenly there was a click – reminding both, that Ares was still here. And currently smirking at them from behind his camera.
"You two are hopeless!", the black-and-red-haired god snickered and put his camera back into the bag he always carried about.
Apollon began to stutter in embarrassment, while Hermes just stuck his tongue at his oldest half-brother.
"Oh shut up, you mystery-monger!", the brunet retorted. "You hate music and I still caught you sing with him earlier! Speaking of which …", he smirked, "… I didn't know you can sing! You sure have an amazing singing voice for someone, who despises musical activities! What a hidden talent you are!"
"If you tell anyone, that you heard me sing, I'll rip out your tongue!", the war god snarled.
Hermes put his arms up. "Alright, damn! Relax! I was joking! Seriously, I don't see what your problem is!"
"To be honest, neither do I", Apollon agreed.
Ares huffed: "Ya mean, apart from the fact, that I'm the god of terrible war an' singin' pretty songs doesn't fit into my reputation? It annoys me, when people ask me to sing for them. I know I can sing, but it's not really a hobby of mine. My hobbies are … ya know …"
"Blood and thunder!", Hermes groaned. "Yes, we all know it!"
The war god grinned from ear to ear. Then he stood up. "Anyway, gotta go. Bye!"
Apollon jumped up. "Wait! You can't leave me here alone with him!"
The red-eyed god cackled: "Oh, I can and I will!"
"You're pure evil!"
"I'm necessary evil! Happy birthday, Sunny Boy!"
"Why, you old-!"
"Now, now! Let's not stoop to the level of petty insults! Have fun, ya love birdies!", Ares sang. Then that belligerent arsehole flew up and away, leaving behind two furiously blushing Olympians.
But once they recovered, Apollon turned to the Messenger and grumbled: "I'm telling you, Hermes, he's pure evil!"
"A first class jerk!", Hermes agreed. "Still, did he give you anything for your birthday?"
Apollon's expression softened instantly and he nodded, smiling.
In that moment the brunet understood.
To spend some time with the blond and let him talk about his cares: that had been Ares' birthday present.
1) Letoides/Latôios: Son of Leto (one of Apollon's epithets)
2) Andreiphontês: Men-Destroyer (one of Ares' epithets)