The God of War

A/N The song Aphrodite sings is inspired by Firefox AK's song Boom Boom.

"That obnoxious Poseidon!" Aphrodite huffed as she learned on the fence, feeling the warmth of the midmorning sun caressing the back of her form while regarding Demeter in her lovely garden. The older goddess was fixing with some trees carrying tiny dark red berries.
"What about him?" the Goddess of the harvest asked, sounding slightly preoccupied.
"Why does he think he's going to take away Cecropia from Athena?"

Demeter knit her brow, sighed and turned to look at the younger goddess taking her attention off her trees.
"You know, Seidy is one of the Founders of Olympos. He, Themis, Hestia, Zeus and I are the only gods left of the original Founders. The rest have all departed, more or less voluntarily. So I guess that makes Poseidon believe he has some VIP lane to desireful positions and responsibilities. Including down in the mortal world."
"But Athena is not backing down," Aphrodite replied and Demeter frowned and scratched her tied up dark-blond hair, not bothering with having soiled fingers.
"She's stubborn enough that lass. I like her a lot, but sometimes she too ought to back down."
"So you think Poseidon should have that town?"
"I'm not saying that, mind you. Athena has been down labouring hard in that area now for I don't know how many decades. Incontrovertibly is it benefitting us all, not only because she's acquiring remarkable things down there, it also means she's more or less given up warring and squabbling with Ares. But what she ought to do – and Poseidon as well – is to take a step back and let the other one in as well. It can't be that hard to share."

"Would you've done that, Demeter?" Aphrodite challenged the older goddess.
"I..." the Goddess of harvest seemed to hesitate. Perhaps someday – if it was someone I could trust. How about you?" she hit back the ball.
"I'm not sure either. As you said, I have to trust him or her. And those other gods and goddesses of love I've met earlier didn't exactly invoke those feelings within me."
"It's quite sad; we immortals ought to do better than that."

"That's something about our kind. We're very propertarian. Not all of us, Demeter, but plenty enough. Gods bitch about things which really shouldn't be a problem. And I can't deny I've done that too sometimes. Getting caught up in the game. I've been thinking about it – sometimes – that we ought to stand back and look at ourselves from time to time. Scrutiny the way we behave. Because there's not anyone who's going to tell us that. Gods aren't exactly helpful in that manner."
"You're right, and we cannot expect the mortals to tell us either," Demeter smiled as she nibbled one of those red berries and put it between her prettily curved red lips. "They'd rather pee in their panties."
"They're that scared?"
"Some are. Others are just – well very respectful. Pfiooooufff! Ppwett! These berries are sour! Ouch!"

Aphrodite watched Demeter making quite a face and spit out the berry.
"So sad, those trees are lovely. Especially the one which is still blossoming over there. What do you call them?"
"Cherries. I had hoped them to be a bit sweeter than this. So it's back to the drawing board I guess. And you – how's it going."
"Well, so-so," Aphrodite admitted, but Demeter was having none of it.
"So-so? Hera told me you did a tremendous match with the king of Tiryns and some princess."
"Oh well, it wasn't that hard. The man wanted someone caring and light-hearted. And I found her. The hardest part was to make him realize what was hovering in his subconscious while he was looking at those women with big boobs."
"That's men for you." Demeter rolled her eyes. "Mortals as well as gods!"
"True. Can't live with them. Can't live without them."

*o*o*

The next morning Aphrodite set out to do what she had been thinking about for a while now. Bringing soup and a large, fluffy towel and tying a bathrobe around her slender body she went down to a waterfall which flushed down the rock's edge and into the tarn which her dressing room window was overlooking. She wanted to wash her hair in that clear, sparkling water. It would certainly do miracles compared to simply rinsing it off in a bath tub. Aphrodite had that long, thick and fluffy blond mane which was a pain to clean simply because it was so hard to work through completely. Sometimes she used to soap it and then dive into the lake, however she loved doing it under a waterfall, and she had never tried those at Olympos. There was always a first time for everything.

She had selected a fall which ran down in a terrace-like pattern down a rather steep hillside, so the water came to halt in several small ponds before finally flushing out in the tarn. One of those ponds was hardly larger than a bathtub although slightly deep, so when the goddess jumped into it, the water almost reached up to her shoulders. That would give her some modesty just in case some curious god should come checking her out. Which they might as well do, this was Olympos after all.

The water was perhaps a tad cold, Aphrodite could feel that prickling sensation as her body shielded itself and the chill faded. Cupping her hands in the waterfall she splashed water in her face, blinking her eyes in the icy wetness to chase away the last traces of the night's sleep. Then she bowed her head under the stream, as if accepting it as a lover, let it wet her hair thoroughly before she threw her head back, shook the hair from her face and sent droplets of water in a magnificently arcing cascade behind her. Turning around, she reached out and grabbed the small, blue glass vial with soap, removed the cork and poured a lavender-smelling little dollop in her cupped hand, returned the vial to the edge of the pond and then poured the soup in her hair. Humming lightly upon something she had heard Apollo singing, she started to massage up generous foam in her hair.

Can you, can you hear the drum
It goes boom boom boom
And so goes my heart
Boom boom boom
Just like my heart
Beating beating a song about you

This was great, she smiled as the sun reached up over the tree tops and shone down upon her where she stood with the fine droplets of the waterfall's edge spraying across her creamy white shoulders.

Can you, can you hear the drum
It goes boom boom boom
Baby baby baby
Beating beating a song about you

Aphrodite thought about Zephyros, he was away again, just like the wind which was honored to him. Yet before he had left he had reassured her that if she wanted to enjoy someone else during his absence, he was not going to hold it against her. He was well aware that he was a man who never stayed long in a place, not even at Olympos where he had his home. Therefore he knew he couldn't lay claim on a woman he would perhaps see for two or three nights every second month. It was thoughtful of him; still she was beginning to fear that all men of Olympos were like that. Superficial. Unwilling to commit themselves. So many of them were bachelors. And the women were bachelorettes as well. Demeter, Hestia, Athena, Artemis, Selene, Iris – none of them had any long term relation going on in their lives. Perhaps it was up to her, Aphrodite, to take care of that. Perhaps she could...

Aphrodite was cut off in her thoughts by that annoying feeling of being watched. Now what? Couldn't they...

Slowly she lowered her hands from the hair massage and she felt the foam mixed water slid down her arms as she unhurriedly turned her head to look.

Yes there he was standing leant against the trunk of a sycamore with a gleeful smirk playing around his full lips. She had half-expected him to run off and hide when he realized her was caught in the act, but then Aphrodite comprehended that this was not his style at all.
"Ares? Having some fun?" she added a contemptuous cadence to her voice and in return the God of War's grin grew even wider, brown eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Admiring beauty, that's always delightful. Especially after having seen very little but blood and gore for months."
"So how was the war?" she asked conversationally as she hugged her shoulders. The water had suddenly starting to feel cold and she just wanted to get out of it, the euphoria from earlier gone.

"Like wars are mostly," Ares answered without developing further.
"But you're certain I don't care, right?"
"Eh-hm. You are love, why would you bother yourself with war."
"You never know," she teased before she almost slammed her hand at her forehead in rebuke. What was she doing, was she standing there flirting with the very man who had so obviously and disrespectfully been ogling her? No, she couldn't have meant that, could she? Of course Ares had interpreted it just that way and he was not late to catch the bate.
"Id' love to know," he replied and left the tree, taking the three steps up to the pound where he squatted down and took the blue vial with soap in his large swordsman's hand and sniffed it lightly. She groaned in her mind.
"Forget I said anything," she sighed.

"Why, sweetie?"
"Because it wasn't an innuendo."
"Now, why should I think that?" the god grinned and tilted his head.
"Oh I know your kind!"
"Now this is quite unfair, don't you think? You know. But I do not know. Now how should we fix that, my dear Aphrodite?"

She groined again, a bit more audibly than earlier.
"We don't have to fix that. I'm perfectly fine with my secrets."
"But what about me?" Ares made a face, pretending he was pouting and begun toying and juggling with the soap vial.
"As I said, forget it. I need to rinse out my hair now, and then I have a morning filled with things to do. So I..."
"How about the afternoon?"
"That one's busy too, so forget it as well."
"You're quite unrelenting, right?"
"You bet your gorgeous ass," Aphrodite shot back. Then she turned around and put her head beneath the waterfall, starting to rinse the soap out from the hair and tried to pretend she had totally forgotten Ares was around. It worked for a while but eventually her hair couldn't get much cleaner and she had to turn around – only to find that the place where he had been squatting was now empty. So were the surroundings. Only the blue little vial was resting on a stone, gleaning lovely in the sun, which had now started to warm up the place in earnest.

Staring in disbelief, Aphrodite didn't know if she was glad or displeased that the god had left. As sure as he was annoying in his self-confidence, he was also charming in an odd way. No, not really that odd. He had that special something which all the sons of Zeus possessed. That alluring magnetism which was as attractive as it was annoying. The sons of Zeus could get away with things you'd think to be appalling with most men. They teased and joked around and behaved like pigs – and then they were just smiling that smile and you'd forgive almost everything. As Aphrodite got out of the pond and started to towel herself off, she was thinking of Queen Hera. Earlier she had used to wonder how the lady really coped with her husband. Now she began to finally understand this. Hera had been enchanted by Zeus' charm and fell in his cleverly laid honey-trap.

No, Aphrodite was not going to make that kind of mistake. Ever!

*o*o*

The goddess of love had managed to busy herself quite exhaustive during the day, looking up that little goddess whom Boreas the Northern Wind was said to be intrigued by. Oreithyia. She lived outside that town Cecropia, the very one that Poseidon and Athena fought over... It was a small world!

*o*o*

Oreithyia was on horseback, riding through the Eran valley in southern Attica. It was a lovely day, with the sun shining from a cloudless sky and just a mild wind blowing, bringing with it the fragrances of a million summer flowers. Bees and birds were in the air and gray and brown rabbits were fleeing down their holes where Oreithyia and her fateful mare came short pacing. To her left she could see the blue carpet of the sea between the large pines and oaks lining the small dirt road and to the right she saw the greenish-blue water of the slowly flowing river Ilissos. Beyond the river were green, rolling hills which were turning into mountains by the horizon, blue with distance and capped with snow. All of it was exquisite beyond description as if touched by the hand of a primordial creatress with a heightened sense of aesthetics. Yes it was a day to rejoice in, a delightful summer's day.

Any other day the goddess might've appreciated all this beauty surrounding her. But not today. Oreithyia was deeply troubled with what was happening to her region, with the two powerful gods who were fighting over the town of Cecropia and how that strife had split the population in two fractions – one which was rooting for Athena, Goddess of Wisdom and War and the other one who preferred the Poseidon, the Lord of the Sea. The latter scared the guts out of Oreithyia and the former – as a matter of fact, she knew very little of Athena. The daughter of Great Zeus was said to be clever and bright but also war-like and violent, and since these qualities weren't compatible, Oreithyia felt that she couldn't trust Athena. Essentially she just wished both of them to go away! Leave her home alone!

Oreithyia's mother Praxithea had always told her that she shouldn't judge people she had never met, although the goddess couldn't help being suspicious about the very idea of two so mighty Olympians competing for this back of beyond corner of the world. The sea was close – she gazed out at all that blue which was the Aegean. An angered Poseidon might as well flood the whole region. And who knew what Athena could do if she didn't get what she wanted? The mortals felt these things too; they came to Oreithyia with their worries, trying to get her advice about how to relate to the battling immortals. Yet she felt equally lost and to cover her own insecurity she told them to stay as far away from the quarreling Olympians as possible. 'Not cowardice just being practical' Oreithyia called her advice, hoping they would head it. So many times earlier had she seen people getting in the way when mighty gods fought – and it often ended up in disaster. And on top of all that mess was the...

"Oreithyia!" she heard a melodious voice call, and when she turned her head, she spotted a brilliant looking being by the wayside. The short white dress was almost transparent and shining like mother of pearl, turning pink, purple and light green as it moved about a striking form in the soft wind, the free falling blond hair was glittering like gold and snow in the sunshine and flowing almost like sea-foam over rounded shoulders and generous breasts. This striking goddess was regarding Oreithyia with eyes blue like sapphires, the Attican had never seen anything more beautiful. At the same time – she felt – threatening.
"Yes?" she halted her horse, regarding the wonderful appearance who was not standing on the ground, but hovering slightly just to be almost at level with the goddess on horseback so she didn't have to look up at her. A subtle yet notable demonstration of power.

"You might not remember me, but I'm Aphrodite," the lovely being said.
"Aphrodite..." that name rung a bell in Oreithyia's mind. "Didn't you live in Attica once?"
"I did. Just west of here. Village named Cydonion."
"Okay – so what brings you around again? Seeing old friends?" Somehow Oreithyia doubted it.
"Not exactly. Rather hoping to meet some new ones."
"You're... you're not with Athena, are you? Or Poseidon?"
"No, not really. It's hard to avoid their quarrel, although my business here is quite of a different kind."
"And that should be?" Oreithyia felt her shoulders relax a bit, this Aphrodite felt more innocuous now.

"I'm looking for a god," she said.
"Whom?"
"Zephyrus. God of the West Wind."
"Winds!" Oreithyia couldn't help letting out a slight laughter. "Now you see them, now you don't. They're the most unreliable... But I guess you know that already," she added when she saw the sad expression in the other goddess' eyes.
"You speak of experience?" Aphrodite asked.
"Not really – but... you know how the stories go. Besides they are Olympians."
"And that means what to you?" An interested twinkle appearing in Aphrodite's eyes.

Oreithyia cast a glance behind her shoulder as if to make sure no one was listening, although she knew that a possible spy might as well be very invisible. Or perhaps very distant from here, gazing through a sight bowl. Still that kind of reflex tends to come when wanting to say things which weren't really safe in the world of immortals.
"Unreliable," she replied, barely moving her rosebud lips, green eyes once again darting to the sides, pearly teeth biting her lover lip. Aphrodite blinked. That had often been her own thoughts, and fate knew she was not rid of them yet, even though being part of that mighty pantheon herself these days.
"Especially the volatile winds you mean?" she asked in spite, trying again to crack the shell of this shy goddess with some girls' talk.
"Yeah but... some are scarier than most."

"You're thinking of these quarreling top gods around here?"
"Athena and Poseidon. Might be – but I'm staying away from them."
"Then what's on your mind?"

Now it felt as if a curtain had been drawn and for a short second Aphrodite saw dread in Oreithyia's green eyes.
"Forget about the wind," she said. "And forget about me and that you heard anything from me." Then Oreithyia put her heels in the sides of the horse, which fell into a fast gallop. She knew that the other goddess could've followed her and her mare without breaking any sweat at all, still it seemed that Aphrodite didn't seem to bother. Perhaps she had gotten the answers she needed. When Oreithyia glanced over her shoulder she only saw that shimmering silverblue glittering mist in the air telling that the other goddess had just skipped away, short-cutting through the dimensions to wherever she was heading.

But Oreithyia didn't shop galloping until she was back home again, by her pond where the naiads were laughing and splashing water upon each other as usual and with not a care in the world. Oh, those dumb, ignorant and happy beings, how she sometimes wanted to trade place with them. On the other hand, that would've made it impossible to ward herself against HIM...

*o*o*

'Him again!' Aphrodite thought as she looked up at the form which was blocking the lantern light.
"You again?!" she asked of Ares who smiled at her.
"Yes, me again. You didn't think you were going to escape me forever, did you?"
"No, it's not that big a mountaintop after all," she replied, while regarding the god in the armless, red tunic, showing his powerful biceps and his dark brown locks tied away from a handsome face.
"Mind if I sit down?" he asked and she wanted to say 'yes, actually I do', but instead she heard herself confirming that it was fine.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry," Ares said and then he held out a yellow rose to her. She knew he had nicked it from Demeter's rose garden just minutes ago, the dew was still lingering on the delicate petals, which were slightly pink at the edges. Still she found the gesture so charming she had to brace herself against falling completely for it.
"For what?" she asked.
"For being a peeping tom this morning."
"Well..."
"As I said – I was just right back from the war, I still smelled of blood, gore, steel and the smoke of funeral pyres. Then to behold beauty like that. The most gorgeous thing peacefully enjoying her shower in a waterfall like there's no worries in the whole world. No wars, no killings, no dismays. It was for me like a dream. I hardly dared to move to not shatter that mirage of splendor. Still I knew it wouldn't last forever. True, it didn't. But I didn't snap out of my revere until it was too late. That moment I felt so childish and ashamed."

"Ashamed?" Aphrodite's voice was filled with her disbelief.
"Yes, dear. Believe it or not. But when this guy returns home from war, it's like stepping into another world. Olympos is like a dream of perfection, so far from the horrors of the battlefields."
"You don't mean that really?" Aphrodite looked at Ares where he had sat down next to her, holding an almost full glass of nectar without even sipping from it. Now it became his time to look at her in disbelief. "They say you are blood thirsty, that you delight in the clash of armor and the disorder and chaos on the battlefield."
"I can't deny they are right in a way," Ares confessed. "I thrive on the excitement, of the turmoil and the commotion. Of the adventure of not knowing what tomorrow will bring. I tend to get restless when it's calm and tranquil around me. When nothing happens. It bores me. I love the pandemonium, I get kicks out of the uncertainty. I feel the adrenaline gush through my veins and I feel so alive – ironic when there's so much death around me. Still – it does not mean that I cannot enjoy a peaceful time of beauty and wonderment. When the war is over and I return home and behold this place of loveliness again – there's hardly anything sweeter. And there were you, Aphrodite, as the icing of the cake."

Now she couldn't help laughing. Ares loved the sound of that, it sounded like a clucking brook in springtime. So joyful.
"What's so funny?" he asked.
"Icing on the cake! How come men often compare women to food?"
"Because we wanna eat you," Ares teased and made biting motions with his cheeks. Thus Aphrodite laughed even more and Apollo, passing by in the upper gallery, turned to look at them. His face didn't betray any emotions although he clasped his fists, while he tried to figure out whom he was most irritated with. Aphrodite for flirting with Ares or himself for letting such a delightful gem go. Ares on the other hand - that was a lad Apollo had grown tired of being irritated with centuries ago.

Mocking fright Aphrodite backed off and Ares responded with moving closer. He could feel the fragrance of the rose which she was still holding in a tender hand. It mingled with her perfume and a faint hint of the soap she had used the very same morning in that pond and he regarded her hair which fell back across her shoulders and caught the light of the divine fire in the lanterns. A bit of that semi-transparent fabric of her upper dress fell aside hinting at the darker skin of her areola. That was almost too much for him. Ares had never praised himself for being restrained when it came to lust and desire. Just like his father he delighted in love and passion and he didn't see any reason why he shouldn't. Now this young goddess turned him on, there was no denying that. Thus Ares knew he had to have her, had to make her his no matter what it cost. Yet looking into those glittering blue eyes as she giggled and drunk from her cup, he somehow sensed that the price wouldn't be that high.