16. Pretty fly for a War God
The Muses were drumming up a fast beat. A beat of the kind that made it next to impossible to remain still. Soon Aphrodite found herself up on the floor swirling around and spinning like tornado across the highly polished marble tiles, arms out and the cerise skirt spreading around her like petals of a lotus flower. Faster and faster she spun, letting the music embrace her and take her with it, far away on a trip beyond measurable time and space as she gyrated to the rhythm, skipped and jumped, snapping her fingers and clapping her hands.
She called out – and someone was replying. A male voice echoing her nonsense chanting as a fast body sped by her, jumping in the air and somersaulting across her, before landing a bit away. She recognized Ares as he let his hand fly out and started to pat his feet hard into the marble floor. Not so hard the floor cracked but hard enough that the iron-shod war boots he was still wearing made smattering sounds like a counter-point to the drums of Clio, Calliope, Erato and Terpsichore. The other two Muses – Thalia and Ourania were playing pipes and Apollo was handling that instrument with the bells and long bronze tubes which Aphrodite had forgotten the name of. Not that she cared at the moment.
"Go, Aphrodite," Apollo urged her on. "Go Ares! Faster faster! Move your ass, li'l brother!"
"Yaaaah!" Ares called out and raised his balled fist as Aphrodite slowed down slightly and threw her neck back, making her hair fly.
"Ares, compared to the West Wind, you're like a bronze statue!" Apollo teased. "Come on, move it!"
"Ares, Ares, Ares," the Muses began chanting to the beat. Aphrodite felt her cheeks redden. Apollo was hinting at Ares not being up to her earlier flirt, and she wondered how Ares would react to that. If all. Perhaps he didn't know about Zephyros and wouldn't connect the mentioning of the wind to his earlier dally with her.
Yet Ares called out again and then he was suddenly close enough to Aphrodite to grab her by her slim waist and lift her into the air, then he was spinning her around, making her skirt fly up, before it entangled itself over him, and she couldn't help squealing with delight.
"Apollo," Ares returned to his brother. "Haven't seen you on the floor in a while. Come on down and show me how you do your thing!" He hauled Aphrodite over his shoulder and she knew the jive and co-operated with him, rolling across his bent back until she could grab his hands and then rise up in his, hand standing on his palms, not bothering with her skirt falling down the other way, even if she knew that some people might be disturbed with seeing too much of her. Well, that was their problem, not hers, right!
Ares spun around with her and then he let go, strong arms throwing her several feet up in the air, before jumping too and catching her halfway down, holding her in his embrace for a few seconds. Yet those seconds were enough, the warmth of his body, his manly fragrances, the strength of his hard muscles, his breath across her cheek and a slight sound as if he was laughing silently. What woman in her right mind could resist something like that? Aphrodite might have thought of Hermes or Apollo or Zephyros or anyone earlier – it all paled compared to this man. This Ares, God of War, god of the dance floor and god of the hard sensual body.
When he let her down she felt like she had been cut off from something wonderful and Aphrodite almost stopped in spite of the continuing music. Few might have noted how she swayed slightly, lost her focus, before she once again engaged in the dance, took Ares' hand and spun around with him while other gods and goddesses also begun to populate the dance floor. That was something she loved about the Olympians, they all enjoyed music and dancing so much. They also enjoyed eating and drinking and playing around, dressing up and decorating their homes. Being happy people most of the time, the Olympians were relishing in the beauty available for all senses. They made sure to use their skills and traits to contribute to that abundance of loveliness as well – Apollo's music, Hestia's flames, Demeter's flowers and all the weather gods and goddesses painting the skies. And she – what could she do? She ought to spread the love - the thing she was good at doing. No one was going to say that Aphrodite didn't contribute...
She laughed at the thought, spread the love. Right now she knew just where she wanted to focus it instead. Like a concentrated ray of sunshine radiated through a lens. Right at the man who had now placed his large hands upon her slim waist and proceeded to lift her once more in the sky while spinning around. Swiftly putting her down, he was bending her backwards and following through, flexing over her until almost all she saw was his smiling face, and behind it a chandelier of divine flames and the peacock blue blur of someone else spinning by.
Yet too soon it was over, the music slowing down until stopping, people beginning to bid their good nights, she heard voices and laughter disappear down the galleries and walkways. A door slamming shut somewhere. Clio and Erato were still on stage, singing softly with beautiful voices and first Aphrodite only heard the lovely harmonies braiding themselves around each other. Then she recognized the words – they were dirty to say the least, and the contrast to the soft and tender tune made an awesome effect. Listening to that she found herself smiling, her eyes crossing the room and meeting the grayish blue ones of Erato. The Muse responded with a wink of her brows and then her head nodded slightly to the right. Aphrodite followed with her gaze and...
...HE was there again.
"Like it?" he whispered in her ear, his warm breath tickling her, enticing her.
"Eh, exactly what?" absent-mindedly she fiddled with her hair, she had managed to keep that rose Ares had given her, it was now stuck beneath two ribbons.
"The dance," his pelvis made a swaying move. Well not exactly swaying – it indicated something else. A different kind of physical activity. A more – horizontally orientated one.
"Ah – the dance!" she raised her brows and smiled as she placed her index finger upon her lips and kissed it lightly. Then she pressed the very same index finger upon Ares' whiskered cheek. "That was lovely! Nighty nighty, soldier boy!" she said as she removed her finger again.
Ares' reaction became just what Aphrodite had expected, he grabbed her wrist. Not hard but very firm and then he pulled her to him, against his robust body - and before she knew it he was kissing her like crazy, ravaging her mouth with his lips and tongue, almost not letting her breathe. His hands were in her hair then down her back, tracing them across her form, marching his fingers across her spine, conquering it. In response she felt her whole body react, catching fire as if Hestia had turned her dress into a torch. Mimicking his motions with her own hands, tongue and lips, she didn't care that two of the Muses were obviously paying them very much attention.
Letting her go he cupped her face in strong hands.
"You're not like the others, are you?" he asked.
"The others who?" she gazed into those dark brown eyes which held so many emotions, so much soul. Wild energy, hot passion, lust for adventures of all kinds. Intelligence, stubbornness, egocentricity, impatience – and an unexpected kindness. A kindness of the solemn kind, the sort which was so hard for most people to recognize. Most people would read Ares as a pure badass. She saw differently.
He didn't answer her question though. Instead he bored his eyes into hers.
"Don't you ever wind up a man like that and then just think you can say 'nighty nighty' and disappear like a dryad in the woods. Not with Ares, honeypie. I am the god who goes all the way. Wherever it's in war or in love."
"I should've guessed," she whispered, wetting her lips. "Actually I did. I just like to tease a bit."
"I teach you 'teasing' Aphrodite! I'm an expert at it, you know."
The next moment he had lifted her up in his arms and she had almost expected him to fast-skip them to his home. Instead he walked up to the terrace door, which was left open by some kind soul, continued out on the terrace and then he took in the air with her in his arms and banked north, then west, fast enough to tickle her belly. While she squealed out in delighted surprise he laughed throatily before he somersaulted with her several times until she got all giddy. Then, before she knew it, the rollercoaster ride was over and Ares dived through an open window and landed in a large room, where in an instance several crimson flames lit up in as many burners. Among them two or three deep blue ones to cast a wondrous contrast to all the red. Not surprisingly she found he had brought her right to his bedroom – no fuzzing around here. Ares was direct! From word to action in a single heartbeat.
"What a ride!" she exclaimed.
"Just you wait, honey, this is just the beginning."
"Then I'm looking forward to the rest!"
"You'd better!"
Having nearly always been the one to lead the way in an encounter like this, Aphrodite found Ares' self-certain way of taking command both surprising and satisfying. She let him continue with that kiss he had started over at the Palace of Zeus and then he proceeds to kiss her on her cheek and down her neck, tickling her with his tongue as he went. In that moment she felt that if kisses had colours, his would be as red as those fires surrounding them. Red and untamed just as the very essence of this man. She had never experienced such frenzied and unrested energy. Most gods she had encountered had possessed some kind of restrain, some sense of controlling themselves. Not Ares. He dived right into it and tasted her with a relentless hedonism; as if there were no tomorrow, probably inspired by the quintessence of all the way wars he had fought. Undoubtedly he knew all too well how surprisingly quick and brutally wars could cut off a string of life. Those who had tasted war knew the importance of sampling life when you had a chance to – and most likely this understanding influenced even an immortal like Ares.
The God of War encircled the Goddess of Love with his strong arms, pressed her form close to himself as he tasted her ear lobe with lips and tongue, encircled that delicate shell and kissed her passionately right behind it, before tracing down her neck, sending spears of fire right into her body, making her arc against him, filling her with the urgency to really discover him as his mind connected with hers and she experienced that vital desire which saturated his whole being. Ares' hands were resilient and large; still he was no stranger to the finer manipulations, which was proved by his swift and tender undoing of the tiny buttons holding her dress together. Then, as the garment fell to the floor like a discarded autumn leaf she found the contact with him even more intense and she mirrored his actions by opening up the clasps holding his tunic together and pushing it off his shoulders, the gold-plated bronze clasps rattling against the marble floor, the textile following. Now there was contact skin to skin! Intense! Enabling her to roam his hard, warm back, explore muscles hardened by ages of fighting, still divinely soft and unscarred – and unexpectedly hairy.
As Aphrodite reached up with one hand to run it through those silken curls of dark hair, Ares's hands were travelling around her body until he cupped her breasts with one large hand each, thumbs tenderly circling her areolas and then pressing ever so slightly against her erect nipples. Slight, soft – and then suddenly another finger there and he pinched her, making her gasp with surprise and exhilaration. In return he chuckled ever so slightly. Within a heartbeat his hands were at her waist and once more he lifted her up and now, with her in his arms he left the floor and landed them right upon the soft sheets of a bed, cover having been whiskered away just in time for their quick but soft descent among the sheets and pillows. The movement continued gracefully with Ares rolling her over on her back and then continued his kissing exploration of her soft curves, every contact his mouth made setting one more little part of her over-sensitive skin on fire, making her moan and roll her head among the pillows.
The goddess could feel his arousal as Ares lowered himself across her and pushed his hands through her hair, finally undoing her elaborate hairdo and letting her blond waves and curls spread out over the sheet like waves of sunlight turning dusk red in the light of the flames.
"Dearest, you are beauty itself," the god murmured as he raised his head ever so briefly, before he continued to kiss her. "Such a treasure I have found, never have any price brought from any war held such a value!"
"I'm no war-price," she protested lamely, then she gasped with delight as he caressed her inner tights, almost touching places of glory.
"No, that's the best of it all! I have conquered you in peace. As I surrendered to you, unable to resist your precious splendour and sensuality."
"Ares..." she could only gasp, because once again he was playing down there.
"A flower," he murmured, his lips towards her ears, before he lightly tasted her lobe once more. "Another rose. So much lovelier than the one I picked earlier. Since it's warm and wet."
"Oh yes – Ares..." she breathed in when two of his fingers felt their way inside of her. Found the pearl and tickled it as he continued to kiss her. Then he was inside her with a finger, making her gasp even deeper, and the gasp turned into a moaning then a – he made her come! Now her whole form spasmed and trusted herself toward him, her hands caressing his back, as she heard herself impatiently pleading with him to enter her for real. Because he sure was hard enough, hard like an iron club – and as large as one as well.
"Hush, not so fast, Aphrie – the night is long enough for making this pleasure last!"
By those words he had pulled another finger inside of her, fondling her while he continued to taste her across her forehead and landing kisses on her fluttering eye-lids. He made her come once more using his hand, this time by rubbing fingers against the back end of her opening. Aphrodite had nearly forgotten how sensitive that very part was where the lower lips met anew. After that Ares had finally relented to her pleas, eased out the fingers and let his member fill her, trusting deeply. Within a heartbeat they had begun a steady rhythm together, finding each other's pace of desire fast – slowly first and then faster and faster ascending towards the point of fulfilment with an increasing velocity.
Somehow her enduring Ares knew. He had waited for her – or did she wait for him, Aphrodite didn't know, yet they did come together in a sparkling burst of a million sensations which made her cry out as she lost the grip of reality for just one brief moment, felt herself soar weightlessly into eternity.
Then it was over just as fast – and she fell with him down to Earth again, like comets on fire. Burned out and exhausted they landed in themselves again, gasping for breath. She felt his large, hot form over her as he remained inside of her for a long moment before he pulled out again.
"That was..." she begun.
"Wonderful," they said both at the same time.
0O0O0
Came morning Aphrodite woke up to a sensation of how everything had become different. She didn't know in what way, but this sure didn't feel like waking with Zephyros or after those nights spent with Hermes and Apollo. This felt more – tangible, more definite. This felt like she was lying spooned up with her future. The mighty God of War had his arms around her chest, she had her hands in his, her fingers entangled together with his, so much of her skin as possible connected with his. The warmth of it! The soft rocking movement of his breath, his powerful chest heaving, air from his nostrils tickling her neck, heightening her senses.
She felt in his aura that he was still asleep, soft slivers of his dreams slipping from his mind. There was a fragment with one of those large machines you hurled boulders at the enemy with – she had no idea what they were called. There were some other gods she barely remembered – and then there was SHE. During a brief moment she saw herself through his eyes. Standing in that pond and holding her arms out – welcoming him. He reached for her – only to have the vision shift to an Amazon with raven black hair and burning eyes who was accusing him from something, pointing an oddly elongated finger at him. The Amazon was dressed almost only in golden jewelry which gleaned in the firelight, since it had suddenly become night. Ares made a protesting sound in his sleep and the images were gone.
Ares... Turning around she somehow managed to eel out from his grip without waking him up. Instead he murmured something inaudible and rolled over on his back, exposing his handsome body in all its glory, that face softened by sleep and surrounded by dark curls. He was so beautiful in that moment that she felt like she could spend the rest of her life just sitting there and regarding him. Admiring him.
In spite she rose and went up to the windows and pushed the blinds to the terrace door open just slightly to sneak outside into his garden. She didn't care that she was stark naked, after all Ares' terrace was facing the steep mountain side and a streaming waterfall which hurled itself downhill and almost seemed to lose itself down there below. There were clouds surrounding the fall and a rainbow shone among those as the slanted rays of the morning sun hit the millions and billions of droplets spraying out in the air. Some of them even reached over to where she stood and she felt a fine shower against her face and upper body as she leaned against the bannister and admired the vista, her hands caressing the soft and cool marble as if it was another lover.
Her mind was drifting back to the day before, but not to Ares but to the goddess Oreithyia whom she had encountered in Attica. That poor girl was death scared of Boreas. As a matter of fact, Olympians in general were filling her with dread. Now, that was a hard nut to crack, the Love Goddess would have to figure that out. She was aware that the Olympians did scare even other gods. Though it seemed that most of them didn't understand they did. Or perhaps they didn't care.
Personally Aphrodite had experienced most kinds of emotions around men. Save for this very one. She had never been afraid of a man. She had always been convinced that she would be able to handle them one way or another. Even with the most dreadful of the other gender, you could come a long way showing patience and compassion. Soothing their temper with gentle caresses and kisses. Listening to their tantrums and drama and waiting until they had calmed themselves down and returned to some kind of normalcy. Because then you could almost always reason with them.
Only once had a man tried to use violence against her. He had soon learned that she was the stronger one. She might look fragile but she had first broken his arm then given him quite a concussion with a knee in his temple. Watching him writhe in agony, she had berated him sharply. Told him that he would never find love and compassion among people he treated with violence. Told him that they would all walk out on him sooner or later. Walk out on him or find a way to destroy him.
But that was her. She was Aphrodite and she had always been unafraid in these situations. How about Oreithyia? Why was this goddess so terrified of the god of the Northern Wind? Sure Boreas had that certain chill to him. A bit stiff perhaps. Stern. Still Aphrodite couldn't really see anything threatening emitting from him. However Oreithyia had also shown anxiety over Athena and Poseidon. That was probably the clue.
"I know," she sighed as she spoke out loud, collecting her thoughts. "That Olympians are powerful and far out of reach even for most immortals. A lot are watchful around our group. Trying to not make themselves noticed, to not stir us, to not anger us. Hey even I was like that back in... once. But not to such an extent as poor Oreithyia. Something must've – happened. And how can I find out what? Yes..."
"Who're you talking to?" she heard Ares' voice from behind and when she turned around the naked god was leaning against the doorframe, regarding her with slightly sleepy eyes.
"Eh – nobody. Well actually myself."
"Yeah, that one tends to give nice answers," Ares grinned. "So what did Aphrodite just tell you, sweetheart?"
"That I should go see Athena."
"Athena?" surprised Ares rose a brow and she remembered that Ares and Athena weren't really the best of friends. "What would you need her for?"
"Just business," she shrugged and leant her hands against the bannister, ready to take off. Then she remembered she was just as naked as the gorgeous man in the door frame, and she started inside to find her dress. But Ares stopped her:
"Athena knows nothing about love." She laughed at that, having heard those stories too, that the goddess of war and wisdom had turned down more men and gods than there were stars in the sky. Well, Aphrodite just believed Athena to be of the picky kind. And a girl has the right to be picky. Especially if she was a goddess and had all the time in the world to wait for Mr. Right.
Aphrodite shook her head slightly while fondling Ares' whiskered cheek, telling him:
"No but she knows about what's going on down in Attica. And I need to know a few things about the gods down there."
"They're wimps," Ares smirked. "Wimps and cry-babies. And now Poseidon is down there trying to teach them a lesson. But naturally my dear sister is making that her business."
"Naturally?" Aphrodite made a questioning face. "What do you mean 'naturally?'"
"Athena has a way of always bother herself with things that are none of her business. I don't know how many times she had messed up wars I have had going my way."
"Wiped your ass, you mean," Aphrodite teased. Then she went close to him and hugged him. "I bet you wiped her ass as many times around. Only that we people are so stupid so often. We only tend to count our losses. We should be counting our victories as well."
"Sweetheart, you're a clever one!" Ares embraced her.
"I know! But I gotta go now. Gotta work. Do some research. Promise you don't run off to war while I'm gone will you!"
"Cross my heart," Ares replied and then he bent down and kissed her passionately. "After all I wanna do it all over again tonight."
"Even the dance?"
"Even the dance!"
0O0O0
She found Athena over at Demeter's. Oddly enough they were discussing fruits. Well, oddly for Athena, whilst pretty normal for Demeter. The blond daughter of Zeus was sitting down together with the Goddess of Growth in the shadow of one of the latter's cherry trees with a bowl with some small fruits or berries in front of them. Demeter was chewing upon one of them.
"Salt!" she said and nodded her head, dark blond curls bobbing.
"I know," Athena said sadly. "I used the very enzymes you said. Did it almost the same. Tree's a bit different though. No pink flowers. That's not... whatever, they turned out salty and I don't know where I went wrong."
Demeter chewed a bit more, let the berry roll around on her lips.
"I'm not sure if it's possible to..." then she looked up and spotted Aphrodite, waving her over.
"Come here, darling! Sit down. See what you can make out of these, ehm..."
"Olives," Athena said sadly.
"Olives?" Aphrodite slipped down in the grass opposite of the other goddesses.
"Yeah, that's what I'm calling them. My berries. I had aimed for something like Demi's cherries. Sweet and delightful. To my detriment I instead end up with something tasting like salt!"
Aphrodite reached out and took one of the small, blue-black berries in the pottery bowl. As she tasted it she was leaned to agree with Demeter. It tasted like salt. Still - it wasn't bad. This was nothing to have for dessert, that was true. Nothing for pies or cakes. But as a side for a main course... She kind of liked the oily feel.
"I guess, dear, it's back to the drawing board for you then," Demeter said. "I suggest you try changing the osmosis process a bit to make it more..."
"But I don't have the time!" With long, graceful fingers, Athena clutched her forehead in despair. "I do not have the time to experiment. The decision is about to be made the day after tomorrow. And growing another batch of olives will take at least another week. Even with all divine growth power thrown in! At least..."
"Athena, listen..." Demeter begun, as Aphrodite sampled another olive.
"Hey," she cut the other goddess off. "I think you should go for it!"
"But they're not sweet!" Athena protested. "They're salty and..."
"Then be honest about it," Aphrodite replied. "Say that these are salty fruits! The newest hit. The coolest since ice cubes!"
"But who would want it?"
"The one not looking for sweet things. You know, there are just so many of these berries and fruits anyway. Demeter's cherries here. Then there are strawberries, raspberries, plums, cloudberries, blackcurrants, blueberries, figs, dates, grapes... Demeter, you can probably go on! But that's beside the point since you didn't make a sweet berry, Athena! You made something new!"
Now Athena began to smile.
"Something cool!" she said. "A salty berry."
"Yeah!" Aphrodite beamed back.
"You're nuts!" Demeter rolled her eyes. "What's anyone going to do with a salty berry?"
"Enjoy!" Aphrodite said and giggled.
"Speaking of nuts," Athena went on. "Didn't you have some new ones coming around by the way."
"Yeah, the peanuts. But that's another more month or two before they are done. Besides they are not really nuts but more like hard peas."
"Hard peas, I had some hard peas yesterday!" Aphrodite couldn't help shooting back and the other two laughed at her double entendre."
"Yeah I know," Athena replied. "Erato saw you fly off with li'l brother. You should be careful around that Muse. She sees something, the whole Olympos knows within an hour!"
"As if I could care less," Aphrodite returned. "None of us are committed to another one anyhow."
"I didn't know he could dance like that," Demeter said.
"Yes, he was pretty fly," Aphrodite smiled. "Pretty fly for a war god!"
Then she got serious.
"What's going to happen the day after tomorrow by the way?"
"That's when the people of Attica are going to decide," Athena said and picked one more of those olives of hers, tasting it skeptically. "Decide between me and Poseidon. Father had ruled that the one who can give the best gift to Attica and the town of Cecropia will keep it. And the people of Attica are to decide, not the gods of Olympos."
"That's a new one," Aphrodite said and took the last olive.
"Yes, but it's fair," Demeter pointed out. "Then no one can say that they were misruled by the other gods because of some personal shit. Which almost always happen in cases like this otherwise."
0O0O0
"What can you tell me about Oreithyia?" Aphrodite asked Athena while they walked together from Demeter's. Athena was holding her olive stalk, it had spiky, silvered blades. Just like spear tips Aphrodite thought. That had probably more or less consciously originated from the older goddess' war profession. Athena waved the stalk just a little bit.
"Oreithyia of Attica?"
"The very one."
"She's..." Athena hesitated. "I don't know – young. Well not really, she's a bit more than 300. Which makes her roughly the same age as Nyx and Hemera. But she appears younger. Not immature really, but – how should I say – innocent. Vulnerable. A gratified goddess content to live in her own little world with her horses and her nymph friends. Staying away from the big stages of divine society. To be true a lot of people do. An immortal life can be an easy one, if you are content with living off the powers of the nature and take the days as they come. Not bothering with mortals or with divine scheming dramas. And that's Oreithyia for you."
Aphrodite nodded her head silently.
"Why?" Athena asked after a second or so of quietness.
"Just curious," Aphrodite said, uncertain about how much she should tell. Athena grasped the problem anyway.
"There's someone who's interested in her, right? Someone who's asked you to perhaps put in a word for him with her."
"Yeah – well sort of..." she let her voice trail off.
"Anyone I know?" Now Athena had stopped and Aphrodite stopped as well, regarding the other goddess who was plucking with the leaves of her plant. Where she stood she looked very beautiful and Aphrodite thought it a pity that she rejected men. The love goddess sighed, then she told about Zephyros and Boreas. When she was done Athena made an agreeing monosyllable.
"Boreas has a tendency to alienate people with his manners," she followed suit. "Zephyros and Notos are so different. So much more easygoing and charismatic. The happy-go-lucky no worries about tomorrow winds who just blow where they want. Go where they desire. But I wouldn't say that Boreas is harsh. He's an intelligent and thinking but a bit hard to reach."
"Intelligent and thinking, hmm. Then I guess I know what to do," Aphrodite smiled and Athena looked curious, so she went on. "I think I'm gonna go talk to HIM. Scheme a bit."
"How?"
"You'll see!"