Hey reader! It's been a while. Now that we're moving towards the end, there's a lot of plot threads to untangle, and I had no idea where to start... hence this terrible writer's block and the subsequent delay. But All is Fair is back! I have a pretty good idea of how to lay things out from here, so the next chapters may come very soon (hopefully) :)

Huge thanks, as always, to T for beta reading!

- ares -

Hermes found me in Rome on the highest wall of the Colosseum, sitting on its very outer edge with my legs dangling. I had been staring across the Forum Romanum, wine in hand, long enough for dawn to start illuminating the ruins. I'd better leave soon, or risk dealing with an alert guard. I didn't want to talk to anyone and certainly not to some mortal I didn't know.

"I take it that things didn't go well," Hermes said.

I put the bottle to my lips, only to set it next to the other two when I realized it was empty. "What gives you that impression?" I said with heavy sarcasm.

He sat down, mirroring my pose. "Other than the alcohol, the dirty clothes, the blood spatters on your face, and the fact that Emma isn't next to you?"

I shrugged in response. What was there to say?

"I've been looking for you for hours," he continued. "You weren't at the townhouse or your palace, so I thought you'd gone back to Spain to tear Aphrodite a new one. But she wasn't there, and then when I went to Emma's…"

"You saw Emma?" I asked, alarmed.

"Don't worry, she didn't see me. She was in bed, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling. Much like you right now, come to think of it. What happened?"

I told Hermes what Aphrodite had done, that Emma knew everything, that she'd broken up with me. But I kept it matter-of-fact and I didn't tell him all of it; I omitted the moment when I'd nearly lost control and hurt her. And the moment when I had pleaded with her to grow old with me. He didn't need to know that. I could barely believe any of it myself yet.

He gave me a skeptical glance. "And you just… let her leave?" When I frowned back, he laughed. "I suppose I would've expected you to react differently to your very first mortal rejection."

"If a woman wants to leave me, so be it." I turned my gaze back to the ruins, squinting against the morning sunlight that cast a warm glow on the ancient stones. The scene had a much too hopeful atmosphere to it, a stark contrast to the dark clouds roiling inside me. With every passing minute the reality of what had happened solidified a little more. Everything was over. The love of my life was gone forever. My heart twisted and tore to shreds again and again.

"So it wasn't her, then." Hermes followed my gaze. His voice was stoic; he clearly misinterpreted my remark and ensuing silence as indifference. "Maybe in a hundred years you'll meet a third version of them. And then a fourth." He grinned. "Maybe you'll find two of them at the same time. What will you do then? Seduce both and see who sticks around for eternity?"

I lifted my shoulders and dropped them in what was not so much a shrug as well as an attempt to let the weight of the pain fall off me. It failed miserably. If only it were that easy.

"Maybe," I said noncommittally. I stood up and gathered the bottles. "I've got to get back to work. See you later."

For weeks, I couldn't stop myself from checking in on Emma. I sat on the railing of her French balcony, disguised as a pigeon, or in the tree outside her window, as a squirrel. Once, I even intercepted a delivery boy outside, tipped him so I could take the pizza box, and took on his form just so I could talk to Emma at her door.

It was torture. She looked worse every time I saw her. She grew thinner, her already baggy sweatpants going looser and looser on her body. Her skin went from pale to ashen. She had clearly stopped washing or even brushing her hair. The paper take-out bags were piling up, there was no fresh food in the apartment, and she kept watching that same stupid show. But there was nothing I could do to help, however much I wanted to.

I was well aware that what I was doing was wrong; that even if Emma couldn't recognize me in the various disguises I wore, I was practically stalking her. She would never forgive me for it. But did that matter? There wasn't a future in which she would forgive me for any of the other things I had done and we would be together. So all that was left for me was to make sure she was safe.

And then one day while I was hiding on the open window frame in the form of a fly, the front door opened and she came in wearing her sports clothes, rosy-cheeked and bright-eyed. I had already noticed that the apartment was spotless, and that she'd removed all photos of us. She looked healthier; not happy, perhaps, but fine. She was fine without me. Better off without me, probably.

One more time up close. I took off from the window frame and flew towards her. She looked up in reaction to the buzzing sound of my tiny wings and swatted her hand irritably. And after a final look at her face, her eyes, her lips that I'd never touch again, I left.

I felt the hurt just as fiercely as I did love, but what good would it do to wallow? I'd done that before. It hadn't helped. I'd rained down destruction on the world before. It had only gotten me exiled.

But I wanted to; I wanted to feel, fight, roar. I wanted that rush of excitement and fury to replace the pain. I wanted to let it all go, let myself go. But something held me back. Emma, probably. She had grounded me. I missed her small hand on my shoulder or my chest, bringing me back to the present moment whenever I was about to blow up.

I wasn't ever close to blowing up these days. I just craved the relief of it. But I couldn't, not if I didn't want the entire pantheon on my case and the last century to repeat itself. No, the best course of action would be to play my part: fully move back to Olympus, attend meetings, do my job. Excel at it all, be the dutiful son, father, brother, god I'd never been.

Go to the parties and act like I enjoyed it. Act like I was okay. Like I too thought that Emma was just an anomaly, something to be forgotten soon enough. Like I wasn't heartbroken.

Hell, maybe if I maintained the ruse long enough, maybe I'd start to believe it myself. Wouldn't that be nice.

And so I smiled and laughed at the many, many feasts, danced even, impressing even myself with how well I kept up the pretense. I was careful not to overdo it — no one would be fooled if I, with my legendary temper, was all of a sudden unflappably happy and sunny.

The feast today was boring, as all of them were. The food was once again exquisite; the nectar and wine, divine. The entertainment for the night consisted, as always, of the most graceful dancers any of us had ever laid eyes on. I had gotten so used to the ethereal decorations and tablescapes that I barely even saw them anymore.

I missed the cracks and flaws of my mortal life. A life that was in the past. Noah Chevalier was as good as dead.

Come on, get a hold of yourself. Turn that frown upside down, as Emma's friend Gabrielle would have said. The least I could do was join the conversation. Apollo and Hermes were engaged in a discussion that had been going on for far too long. Dionysus had long ago left our table, back home to better parties, probably.

"Your best bet is selling everything. Based on my prophecy—" Apollo was saying, but Hermes cut his sentence short.

"A prediction, Apollo, based on logical arguments I just laid out to you. It's simple economics."

"Even market downturns can be prophesied! Trust me, you need to sell now."

Hermes groaned. "Stop trying to—"

I cleared my throat. "Do you two realize you're arguing the same point?"

Apollo rolled his eyes. "Look who's getting involved. You've been killing the mood, Ares."

"What? How so?" I frowned. I had done my best all night and only got momentarily distracted.

They exchanged a look that told me nothing, but they were clearly on the same page.

"Hermes," I urged, trying to appeal to my slightly more empathetic brother.

He sighed. "You don't even realize, do you?"

"Realize what?"

"That despite your cheerful little charade, you're spreading annoyance like an oil spill."

For a second, I was dumbfounded. "My… charade?" I said when I found my voice. Had they been seeing through my act the whole time?

Apollo waved his hand. "Don't worry, you're doing an admirable job deceiving everyone else. I didn't know you had it in you. You should join my th—" He looked over my shoulder. His eyes narrowed briefly. "Dad alert."

I closed my eyes wearily. Talking to Zeus was the last thing I needed. I had managed so well to avoid him. And now, with Hermes and Apollo looking at me all compassionate, was the worst possible timing.

"Ares," Zeus's low voice sounded behind me.

I inhaled slowly, opened my eyes, and turned in my seat. All hell would break loose if I ignored him. "Father."

"You seem to be doing well." It sounded almost like he cared. "And I hear you're making good progress in Juárez."

I confirmed with a curt nod of my head, not in the mood for his fake interest.

"And how is that mortal woman you've been seeing? Eva, if I remember correctly?"

A sound somewhere between a chuckle and a scoff escaped my mouth. The only time Zeus was interested in other gods' women was if he wanted to take them for himself.

Hermes intervened before I could make a caustic remark. "Dad, that ended months ago. I'm sure Ares would prefer—"

I looked back at him over my shoulder with a warning in my eyes. "No need to tiptoe," I said, hoping fervently that he and Apollo would keep their expressions neutral. "I'm fine. Over it."

The back of my solid blackwood chair creaked slightly under the weight of Zeus leaning his hand on it. "Ended, you say? How did that happen?"

I turned back — there was something in his voice. Confusion? Honest concern, maybe?

"Ask Aphrodite," I said, shrugging with studied nonchalance, and something shifted in my father's sky-blue eyes. I knew this look all too well. A storm. Anger. But why?

His brows knitted together. "Are you sure you're fine, Ares? There's something off about you."

I leaned back and crossed my right ankle over my left knee. Zeus retrieved his hand before the weight of my back hit it. "What, are you surprised I'm not off on a rampage somewhere? Unleashing another world war? Spilling blood just to process my feelings?" I laughed, a little less coldly than I would've liked. I was lying through my teeth, of course. "No need. Emma is in my past."

Zeus straightened. "Very well. That is… good to hear." The irate expression on his face did not at all match his words. "I'll see you all later," he said, nodded at us, and walked away. Straight to Aphrodite, all the way at the other side of the courtyard.

He wasn't exactly subtle about it. The second Zeus turned towards her, Aphrodite sat up straight. Her nymphs reared back and busied themselves with making flower crowns or whatever the hell else nymphs did. Aphrodite's ocean blue eyes shot towards mine and her pink lips twisted petulantly — our most direct contact in months. I had not gone back to Spain after Emma had left me. I had gone straight back to Georgia, told Enyo she was off the hook, and let it all go up in flames. I'd poured my heart into it. And it had helped me for all of two hours before I'd grown tired and frustrated and left for my spot on the Colosseum wall.

I raised my glass at Aphrodite with a smug grin as I watched her growing apprehension. I had not let any of it go.

Zeus towered over her even as she stood up, her golden hair swaying lightly with the movement. She smoothed her already perfect dress nervously. We couldn't hear Zeus, or even see his face, but his body language spoke volumes.

"Is he…" Apollo trailed off. I could almost hear his mouth falling open.

"He's scolding her," said Hermes. He sounded just as mystified.

"Hard to believe, isn't it, Father standing up for me," I mocked, pretending to be offended. In truth I was just as perplexed as my brothers. Zeus had never fought my battles for me.

Zeus turned abruptly and strode away from Aphrodite, passing a row of painted marble sculptures on his way. She fell back into her seat and crossed her arms. Behind me, Hermes joked about her spiteful face, but I knew her better than most. I knew every nuance in her expression, the patterns of her mind, the first thought she had in any situation. I could see the cogs turning in her head. She was already making a plan. But a plan for what?

And why was Zeus getting involved? What stake did he have in the whole thing? Since when did he care?

A realization hit like a meteor. Maybe that was exactly the right question to ask. Since when had he been involved?

I stood up, dismissing my brothers' words of surprise, and paced away. I looked over my shoulder once — Zeus was already back at his table and held his cup up to Ganymede. But then his eyes met mine, and our glances held for a second or two, before he turned back and laughed at something Ganymede said as the latter poured the nectar.

His expression told me nothing and everything. I had no idea why he had scolded Aphrodite. And I had no idea how, but Zeus was involved in one way or another, maybe from the very beginning, from Virginia onwards.

I hadn't had this suspicion when I first looked into the connection between Emma and Virginia. I'd had nothing to go on then, but now I had a new clue. What if I could figure it out this time? What if there might still be something to salvage? What if I hadn't lost Emma forever?

I needed to retrace every single step. Starting with the one place I hadn't checked.