For the first time she felt old as if all millennia immortality tricked had finally taken its toll on her. The breeze, once warm and mint fragrant, crept on her pores like maggots and filled her nose with the putrid stench of rotten flesh.

She stared at the porcelain mirror, at the reflection of a woman swathed in robes that glowed like the silver in her eyes. She couldn't recognize her. What used to be an ensign of femme strength and independence was now stripped off her skin. Tonight she will denounce her celibacy to the heavens; tonight she will be owned. And she might have already wept blood at the dishonour of being tied to the one she detested best.

Nike had been busy enough and blushing as the child goddess she is. There is absolutely nothing to be merry about, Athena wanted to provoke her, but she found herself dead behind the wedding garbs. As the tiara was tucked between the elaborate coils of her perfumed hair, the bride was ready. The night would be long as rituals would proceed and she felt nothing but the want to run away.

When she was summoned, Athena gave only a nod and straightened herself with the coldest, saddest sigh. Midway towards the double pillars leading out of the room she halted at a noble presence and found herself face to face with the wife of her father.

Hera's emerald orbs looked on to her, and Athena felt a genuine cry of pity sang to her like requiem. Hera had never been particularly nice to her, as she was with any extra marital children of Zeus but tonight Athena was comforted by the touch of Hera's palm on her cold cheek. A glitter of tear sprung on the edges of Hera's eyes.

"I'm sorry..."

Athena found herself muted by such empathy which came from one who once was cold to her. She managed to force a weak smile in response.

"If there was any other way, child, your father would..."

At this Athena sniffed as her face crumpled and Hera was forced to move her hand away. Athena didn't know which part she was supposed to cry for, if it were the word child coming from Hera herself, or from the sympathy that came from the mother of a monster. At this Hera pulled the bride close and gently planted a kiss on her forehead. There was no other taste in the kiss but of pure tears. No bitterness of having to pass the queenship, no jealousy, nothing else but sad hope.

Athena accepted the kiss as if Hera was her mother herself before she was again left alone to mourn her sacrifice.

It wasn't too long, though, when her blood turned cold at an eerie breeze that swept through the pillars.

"That," a deep, sugar coated voice purred from behind her, feigning compassion, "...was wonderful."

"What are you doing here...?" Athena's body stiffened with ire.

Ares' eyes glowed like live coals in midnight. Slowly he surfaced from the shadows in the most regal armor adorned for a king. His breastplate was gold and embossed with two spears crossed above a Spartan shield. His shoulders were draped with the finest crimson and flowed behind down to his ankles. Worn by him, the thick cape almost represented a waterfall of blood.

"Watching you..." his whisper was like death to her. She was spooked if it were true he had been here all this time from the moment she dipped herself on the bridal pool until dressed.

"You can't be here," she spat and spun her back to him, "It's bad luck enough I have to say vows to you, what more do you want? Leave."

For a split second, Ares felt the desire to materialize his spear and strike her down. He composed his frozen jaw and stretched a smug across his face, and moved towards her. The nearing taps sent Athena's mind into a wild fire, but she needed to keep the ice on her head lest she will ruin the plan and doom them all.

"My dear...dear wife,"

Athena gritted her teeth at the familiar voice that sounded like the flow of Styx itself. Her flesh turned to rock when his hand rested on her lower back, "I understand we've been..."

She suppressed a breath when his fingers began to spread on her skin.

"...We've been un...-friendly since the beginning of time..."

"You. Can't. Touch. Me," she spoke between gritted teeth.

"Says who...?" Ares smirked against her neck. He pressed her on his golden breastplate, and sent a shudder under her skin, "We're man and wife now...technically. Father has married us the day he proclaimed his testaments...and from what I've seen earlier, Mother likes you too..." he chuckled, "You are so. So full of luck."

In all her life, Athena would confess she felt true fear now, evident on the tears that began to moisten her eyes. She wanted to disappear. She wanted the marble floors to split below them and swallow her to death like the Kraken did with Argos. For the first time she wanted to die instead.

Ares smelt this and it excited him further. He finally had her under his palm.

"The ceremonies," Athena sniffed, "They're waiting..."

The short forced laughter that came from him terrified her better. Has her fear of losing herself to him too blatant now?

"Damn the ceremony, love, it can wait till the morrow. Besides," he slid a hand across her shoulder to push off the thick strap and expose milky white flesh. Ares couldn't help himself swallowing before whispering, "I thirst a virgin's blood tonight."

A jolt of madness stabbed through Athena and quickly she pushed the war god and swung her palm but the effort did not take her far. Ares caught the deadly strike by the wrist and twisted her arm behind her. Athena choked on the whimper that nearly escaped her throat.

"You would fight me?" his words were venom, "Do it and Olympus would know how the queen denied her king of her noble duty...you would set that example, would you?" he twisted further. The fact that he had her finally under pain and control was enough to have him release. His manhood was beginning to fill with lust, and he shook her stiffly with an emphasis, "Would you!?"

The first tear of defeat made way from her eyes and power slowly ebbed from her resistance and her pained arm. Feeling her weaken, Ares half-smirked with victory, "Thought so...now," he pulled her close again so that their bodies touched, her back against his chest. He caught her jaw and forced her to stare at their image reflected on the mirror, "...I want you to look."

Athena pursed her lips and braved her eyes to see their gait no matter how horrifying it was to the world. There is no room for retaliation now, she reckoned. Let anything happen tonight while she is weakened.

"I want you to watch...a heroine's defeat..."

It had all been vengeance in his mind, this bastard. Athena realized, little by little numbed by the sound of tearing robes and snapping ribbons. She let herself become a corpse and gawked at her naked upper body, with an arm encircling her waist and snaking towards a breast. She flinched and lost her breath with every grab and stroke that warmed him. He will not be gentle yes, but she anticipated this and will endure as the war goddess she is.

Ares was on the brink of satiation. This will be one of the best nights of his immortal life: to watch her cringe, to hear her whimper, to taste her blood, and feel her pain. It was undeniable this was his redemption from the insults and discomfort she stashed on him, and more undeniable the fact that he wanted to violate her before marriage. It wasn't as if he actually lusted for her, but he lusted to see her fall. He bit her on the nape like a rabid dog does to a prey and manoeuvred her towards the edge of the bed, only to push her down the mattress.

She felt his weight on her nakedness and he came face to face with her as their noses touched and she basked on his lustful heat. Ares brushed his fingers on her lips as they locked stares, scarlet against silver. He wanted to absorb fear from her eyes and finding none of it except contempt only spurred him on.

"Have you ever wondered how this felt, Athena?" he whispered, straining against her sex.

"I would've," she looked at him filled with vile, but unmoved, "If it weren't you on top of me right now."

Athena smiled to herself sensing the minute crash of insult on the way his face hardened. He might have chortled out of amusement, yes, but Ares was made up of pretensions which were easily read like an open book.

"Would you prefer father in my stead, then?" Ares bit his lower lip as he smirked. And Athena swore she wanted to break that face and that insolent mouth. "Don't you dare…" her face crumpled, unable to hide the fury and sadness at the mention of her—their—dying sire. Ares reckoned with glee to discover what could make her weak in the knees and began to slip his hand from her mouth to her chest and down between the folds of silk which veiled her virginity.

"Why not, love?" Ares goaded, "Surely he was good, given the number of women he…"

Athena's eyes flew open and glared whilst tears gathered at the rims when two of his fingers tore deeply through her sex without warning. Suddenly she shivered, so much for a mind distressed to the point of insanity and a body which was supposed to be never accustomed to animalistic desires and doings. She wanted to riot, to rage and fume against her father for forcing her in this a filthy act with the filthiest god ever known.

Above her Ares' smile was so prevalent seeing the nausea on her face and the tear that slid from her eye. And yes he meant to see that face until the morning. He slid in and out twice but that was never meant to please her. Thus he moved out of her dry and pierced the air with the sound of torn silk against her legs and his own wedding garb, glowering and smiling at the same time at the horror that reflected on her eyes as piece by piece of him exposed.

There both his hands spread her legs and at once he placed himself between and ripped her through, deep and sore without concern nor dignity. Athena finally sobbed whilst biting the wall of her mouth until she tasted blood. Her body was tender against his rigid one, for that she finally welcomed defeat at the pain he thirsted. Against her, he was restless and hungry as if his life depended on raping her. For every tear and that slipped off she was all sorts of ugly emotions. She was sure she would have died when Ares' fingers began to tighten around her neck, his devilish smirk rife above her as he commanded...

"Bleed for me."

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