"How far to your camp?" Ace asks, leaning her head against Seraphim's shoulder and yawning. "I've been awake all last night, and all of today."
Seraphim grits his teeth, suddenly uncomfortable with her closeness to him. He can't very well tell her to let go of him, though; she'd fall to her death. He doesn't exactly want to lose her, especially since she's the only one who really cares about him.
Ace yawns again. "Are we there yet?" she mumbles. "Gods, I'm exhausted."
"Just hang on," Seraphim replies. "Please don't fall off."
His own mind can't seem to comprehend that he's just said please.
"Idon'twannadie…" Ace says tiredly, and although she's almost nodding off, she manages to tighten her grip on Seraphim's waist.
It's even later in the evening when they both make it to camp.
"Are we there yet?" Ace asks for the hundredth time.
"Finally, I can actually say yes and shut you up," Seraphim answers in a growl, slightly regretting bringing her with him.
"Good," Ace mutters and promptly falls asleep, tipping sideways off the chimera's back in the process. Even hitting the ground doesn't wake her.
"Gods, Ace," says Seraphim, dismounting and going to check if she's okay. "What the Hades am I going to do with you?"
Ace is fine, although some of her hair has come loose from its ties and she's lying in a very ungraceful position, snoring softly. Seraphim gives a small chuckle as he picks her up and carries her into his tent.
My bed is the most comfortable, he thinks to himself, laying her down on the pile of skins that serves as a mattress. He pulls one of the furs up over her and stares down at her for a while.
She's beautiful, part of his brain remarks, while the other part is slightly confused as to why he's having these thoughts.
But it's true, she is beautiful, and Seraphim finds it a little difficult to tear his gaze from her and leave the tent.
He himself isn't at all tired, and for that, he thanks the giant's blood running through his veins.
"Let's move out," he tells his people. "We have a visit to pay to Chiron the wise."
Seeing as Chiron is the only other one who would be able to understand the writing on the map, Seraphim knows Alexia will have to go to him for help.
"So," he concludes, his bident perilously close to piercing the centaur leader's chest. "You will hand over the map to us when Alexia gives it to you. You will do so, or your people will pay."
Chiron cannot say no, with his people's safety on the line, and so gives Seraphim the map when it falls into his hands. He tries to keep Alexia with him, but Seraphim won't have it.
"It's her or your people," he threatens. Chiron backs down, and Alexia is taken captive.
They arrive back at camp before dawn breaks, but Ace is already up, and grins widely when she sees Seraphim. She's untied her hair and it now hangs loose past her waist, longer than Seraphim's own hair.
"Nice job!" she congratulates him when she sees Alexia chained to a rock. "Come and look at this, though!"
Seraphim notices she's holding a piece of parchment, and is surrounded by small pots of paint. A brush is in her other hand. He walks over and sits down next to her, looking at the artwork. What he sees gives him pause. It's a picture of him. Bident in hand, he is spearing a man with a crown on his head. Guards lie dead around him.
Seraphim raises his eyebrows at how violently those guards have been slaughtered. Some beheaded, some disemboweled, some with their skulls crushed and their cerebral matter spilling out.
"Is this how you see me?" he asks, looking up at Ace. "You're an amazing artist, by the way."
"Thanks," Ace replies. "And what, do you mean you're not actually like that?" She stares into his eyes, a look of over-exaggerated innocence on her face. She's got him there, too.
"I guess I am like that," he concedes with a small smile. "Where did you get your idea for the scene?"
Ace grins at him. "From a dream," she says, winking. "I watched you kill them all. You were covered in blood. Afterwards, you came over to me and…" She stops, and a blush spreads over her face.
"And what?" asks Seraphim. "What did I do?"
Ace bites her lip nervously. "You kissed me. I could taste blood on your lips, and it was really hot…" she breaks off again and giggles girlishly.
"Why didn't you paint that scene?" Seraphim teases, ignoring the fact that his heart has started pounding like Hephaestus's hammer at the thought of kissing Ace.
"I thought you might prefer the more gory scene," Ace replies, composing herself. "Besides, it was only a dream."
"Right, of course," says Seraphim, mentally ordering his heart to calm down. It doesn't listen, so he gets up and goes over to where one of his followers is bandaging his arm where it got severed just below the elbow.
"Good with a sword, isn't she?" he remarks, referring to Alexia.
"Yes, my lord," the other demon replies.
"But she's still mortal," Seraphim continues. The other demon looks down guiltily.
"Are we the strong or are we the weak?" Seraphim asks.
"The strong," says his follower.
"And how do we stay strong?" he asks. He doesn't give the other demon time to reply before he runs him through with the bident.
"By culling the weak," he finishes, answering his own question. He looks back at Ace, who is smiling, and gestures for her to come with him.
"Way to prove me right, oh ruthless one," she comments as they enter his tent, where Hera is waiting for them.
"Kneel," she commands. Ace immediately, wisely, drops to her knees before the goddess, but Seraphim remains standing.
"Again?" he complains. Hera's eyes flash. She clenches her fist, and Seraphim is forced to his knees.
"Always," she says. Then her gaze flicks to Ace for the first time. "You?" she breathes, shock passing over her face before she collects herself.
"Do you know me, my lady?" asks Ace respectfully, while Seraphim looks on in confusion.
"No, I don't," Hera answers quickly - a little too quickly. She turns back to Seraphim. "I hope she will not interfere with my plans."
Seraphim looks the goddess right in the eye. "Ace has claimed that her strength matches mine. If that is true, then I believe she will not be a hindrance, but an asset."
Ace is tempted to grumble that she could've spoken for herself, but keeps her mouth shut.
"Do you think you can help us, Ace?" Hera asks, uncharacteristically courteous.
"It depends on what you're asking for, my lady," replies Ace.
So Hera explains the mission she has in store for Seraphim. He must find a sword that can cut through any material of the Earth, for he will need it when he faces Talos. He has to find the sword, and kill the man who was meant to wield it.
"How can it cut through anything?" asks Ace curiously.
"It was forged by a god," Hera says by way of explanation.
"I figured as much," says Ace, "but what is it made of?"
"Adamantium," the goddess replies. "Are you done asking questions now?"
"Yep!" says Ace perkily. "My curiosity is satisfied. And I would love to come on this mission, if only to see such a fascinating sword with my very own eyes." She turns to Seraphim. "Of course, I can help as well. So can I come? Please?" Ace gives him her best pleading-kitten expression, and he stifles a chuckle.
"Yes, you can come," Seraphim says, and as Ace does a little victory dance, he looks back at Hera. "Who is the man I have to kill?"
"He is now a prisoner on one of your ships," Hera tells him.
She also tells him where to find the sword, and so he and Ace leave atop the chimera.
"I like this thing," Ace remarks, twirling her new whip above her head. "Whips are cool."
"You're lucky I killed its owner," states Seraphim. "He loved that whip. There would've been no getting it off him while he was alive."
Ace laughs and wraps her other arm tighter around him. "Well, thanks, I guess."
Seraphim tenses a little, gripping the chimera's horns more firmly, but then he forces himself to relax. He has come to realise that Ace is a very physical person, and that for her, this sort of contact is essential for any relationship, be it friendship or otherwise.
Or otherwise… hmm, I wonder…
But Seraphim grits his teeth and starts singing an old shanty in his head to block out the unwelcome thoughts.
It's too late, though, because Ace has picked up on his emotional shift. She stops twirling her whip and loops it to her belt before putting that arm around his waist as well.
"Why do you keep trying to block out your true feelings?" she asks, resting her cheek on his shoulder and hugging him even tighter as he tenses up again. "Why don't you want to feel anything for me?"
"We're on a mission, Ace," Seraphim says in slightly strained tones. "I would appreciate it if you didn't distract me."
She can feel his heart pounding as she presses herself against his back, loving the physical contact as well as the heat of his emotion radiating off him in almost tangible waves.
"Sorry not sorry," she whispers in his ear, feeling his body ripple with muscle as he tenses even more. "Oh, come on, relax!" she laughs. "You're going to strain something at this rate."
"Yes," Seraphim growls, "my patience is being extremely strained."
But it no longer matters, because they have reached their destination. Ace is forced to let go in order to dismount, and Seraphim puts as much distance as possible between them. Above all, he is confused. He doesn't know how to handle such a powerful, instinctual feeling. He has never reacted in such a way at any point in his life, but now, with Ace, he is reacting so strongly, and he has no idea what to do. Knowing that she is an empath, that she can feel what he feels, further complicates things. He can say what he likes, but she'll know what he really means, or even what he doesn't want to say, because emotion doesn't lie. Emotion will betray him, just like it did on the journey here.
"There it is!" Ace crows, and Seraphim looks in the direction she is pointing to find the sunlight glinting off a beautiful blade stuck halfway into a rock.
"Race ya," says Ace with a mischievous grin, taking off. Seraphim laughs and sprints after her, thinking he'll easily catch up. She's faster than he anticipated, though, and he finds himself pushed to his limits trying to match her speed. Eventually he gains some ground, and they are neck-and-neck when they reach the sword. Neither are winded, but Seraphim can feel his calves burning a little from the exertion. Ace is laughing with pure delight.
"It's been so long since I've been able to race against someone with the same stamina!" she exclaims. "That was more fun than I've had in ages!"
"Are you Atalanta in disguise or something?" Seraphim asks in disbelief. "You almost beat me!"
"Only because I had a head start," she replies. "Although, I would've won if I'd kept up the same speed. I slowed down a bit at the end so we would finish in a draw. It was only fair, since I started before you."
"We are having another race," says Seraphim, climbing up the rock to pull out the sword, "up that hill. And no throwing it this time."
Ace chuckles while Seraphim tests out the sword on a small stone before slicing clean through the rock it was embedded in.
"What do I get if I win?" she asks. "Will you admit that I'm your equal?"
"If it's a tie, I'll admit that," he says. "If you win, I'll…" he breaks off and clears his throat.
"You'll kill me for being better than you?" jokes Ace, and Seraphim laughs nervously. Should he say it, he wonders? He decides to bite the bullet.
"I'll kiss you," he answers casually.
Ace's jaw drops. "What?"
"Not gonna say it again," says Seraphim. "If you didn't hear me, then that's too bad."
"I heard you," Ace says with a sly grin, getting ready to sprint up that hill as if her life depends on it. "I'm totally going to win now that I've got even more of an incentive."
Seraphim huffs and puts the sword in his belt. "On my mark. Three, two, one, go!"
They start running. Ace pushes herself to go even faster as Seraphim tries to overtake her. The distance seems even further now that she's determined to be victorious, but she won't let anything get in her way. Her feet pound the earth, keeping rhythm with the beat of her heart. The end is in sight, she's almost at the top…
But a malicious stone catches her foot and sends her sprawling, letting Seraphim gain ground and pass her, reaching the crest before she does. She lies there on the ground, stunned and embarrassed. She doesn't want to get up, and she certainly doesn't want to face Seraphim. Not only did she fail to beat him, she also failed to match him in a draw. She lost.
"Ace," Seraphim's voice filters through her reverie of misery. "Hey, are you ok? I saw you trip, but I was going too fast to stop, even though I did want to."
"I lost," says Ace sulkily. "Leave me alone."
"You would've won if you hadn't tripped," Seraphim admits. "So I believe I owe you something, don't I?"
"No, you don't," Ace grouches, "because I didn't win."
"Would you shut up!" Seraphim hisses in frustration. "You've proved to me that you're my equal. You've kept your oath on the Styx. Happy now?"
"Well, thanks," Ace mutters. "But I still didn't win."
"Oh, for gods' sake!" Seraphim barks, grabbing Ace's hand and tugging her roughly to her feet. "You did win, ok? You finally won me."
And he pulls her into his arms and slams his lips to hers.