Velvet hem scraped through the polished cobblestones of the palace garden. The Queen's noble features reflected itself on the waters of the lengthy pool, rippled by soft wind and purple lilies on leafy disc pads.

"Senatus Popu… populus..."

"Populusque," Athena dictated.

Nike nodded in understanding, repeating the phrase with the Queen as they walked through columns and archways heavily canopied by pink bougainvillea.

"You received the scrolls I sent you last night yes?" Athena inquired.

Her ward reached out a hand as an orange winged butterfly landed on her fingers. "Ah, yes, my Queen. I've begun reading them."

"Take the knowledge well. It's everything of Rome – history, philosophers, pantheon, sites and culture. Tonight I shall send more." The Queen smiled, slowing at the lovely bloom of succulents underneath marble pots of white anemones.

"Why is all this, my Queen?" the girl asked severely wondering. The past week had been spent in lectures of Rome. Athena was showering her more than enough attention, stealing every possible time to talk of their nation and the other, all done over meals and baths, and afternoon tea. She took the girl once in her temple, letting her listen to how devotees offer prayers and sometimes give her riddles.

"You'll see, my dear," Athena smiled, "In the mortal society, women are less privileged with education… you'll soon find how knowledge can be a sturdy armor. Look at you," she faced the girl, raising her lovely chin with a finger. "You've become a fine young woman. One day you'll do more than braid my hair."

Nike blushed. "But I enjoy it, your Deity."

"And be the goddess of braids, of course not. There's something else stored in you, I do not know what, not yet, but we're soon to find out."

"I've always wanted to be like you, to hold a spear, that is, to fight and defend…" Nike weakly attested, impressing her mistress. Athena thought hard. "Why haven't I thought of it before… Nike in the battlefield? I might take you to practice one day…"

"What's one day when it could be now?" a voice sprung from behind them. Artemis was grinning. Her full hunting suit clung head to heels like a badge of honor. "Training courts. See you?"

Athena's mouth hung, unsure. "I…"

"See you!" Artemis quickly passed between the Queen and her ward, fully smirking. Athena closed her eyes in an entertained sigh. Perhaps she had been given no choice after all.

It felt like ages since the last she entered the training court – a wide shallow pool of moist sand surrounded by pillars and wall displays of shields and various weapons. She straightened her skirt cut midthigh above leather straps crisscrossing from her sandals to the knees.

Apollo mocked a curtsy when the Queen appeared. He was flushing with adrenaline and moisture lingered over his body. His hair was tied in a small bun behind his head, earning her disappointment as she could not shuffle the soft golden curls. The bandages that ran from right shoulder to the left of his abdomen was doused in sweat and dirt. He'd just had good sparring and Athena felt envious. She hadn't felt the blaze of practice combat for quite a time and at this hour she was determined to have one.

"Don't you say you've had enough," she challenged, snatching a bow with bronze runner leaning against a wall. She hurled it to the Sun god. He grinned, catching the bow with a hand while the other wiping the sweat behind his neck with a towel.

"Queen,"

They turned to the Red god, fresh from the baths, arms displayed through an intricately designed vest. It was a relief today he was free from the stalking of nymphs obsessing over him.

"Mars," she nodded. He eyed her. "Had I known you'd come to play this time I should've saved some more energy."

"How flattering, boy," Athena laughed, "You would need more than some saved energy to practice with me."

Mars made an awestruck expression clearly taking the jests well. He would have outsmarted her should Artemis not appear by the entrance, "Athena, you should see someone!"

The Huntress paused at a slowly curled evil smile from the Queen about to save herself from the Roman's attention. Athena pulled Artemis by the arm, almost tripping her. "I believe you haven't met this very good friend of mine, she's a very skilled hunter. Artemis, this fine young Roman here is Mars."

She felt the Huntress freeze before quickly letting her go, pulling Apollo by the arm and never allowing time for his twin to protest. Artemis was left probing, twisting her neck to catch up with Athena and Apollo yet feeling discourteous as to leave their guest alone.

And he wasn't just a guest.

He was a catch of rippling biceps and reeked of machismo, the mere sight of his Adam's apple bobbing made her eye twitch and lungs heave terribly. Even to further the agony, Mars crossed his arms over his chest, leaned back against a pillar, and raised his eyebrows above a smug curl of lips. "So… hi."

Along the corridor, Athena could not hold back the crazed laughter.

"Are you selling off my sister?" Apollo whispered suspiciously.

Athena scoffed without turning to him, "Shut up. You've done that to me many more times than I remember. And really? Chiron? You turd."

"But that was fun, my Queen," She heard him snort, "You should've seen yourself."

"Rot in Tartarus."

"I know you wished it was rather me though."

"Ass." Curbing from the conversation, Athena remembered something of Artemis' (gods bless whatever she's feeling right now) line. "Your sister said I should meet someone."

"And meet him you shall…"

"Not another Roman, is it?"

"You'd rather meet another Roman. Now he calls himself the god of cunts,"

"Seriously…" Athena looked at him, uncertainty hanging on her face, "I'm having second thoughts meeting this – "

"Grey eyes!" came a shout and a horrid laughter. Athena rolled her eyes before smiling, quick to recognize the tipsy gurgle. She faced the approaching god, the mussed up long dark hair and lilac eyes, the face vibrant with intoxication, and at the lazy panther padding next to him.

"God of cunts…" she stretched her arms, grinning.

"…and everything gorgeous," Dionysus closed in on her in an embrace, lifting her slightly before parting.

"Now where have the winds taken you?" She pinched on a red cheek, "I was afraid you'd lost your way back home."

Dionysus was ecstatic retelling his voyages, and in a short while Athena felt alive again. She missed this. Even her jaws felt stiff and strange whenever she grinned or laughed at one of the wine god's silly quips, making her realize how long she had not felt happy. It was as if they weren't facing a turmoil after all, as if everything had reversed to normal and everyone was alive.

He concluded his story poorly that neither Apollo nor Athena understood the straight line of events – he was abducted into a ship on one of his travels, and now could not remember whether it was of this time he caused the vines to grow from nowhere or when he took vengeance upon a king who did not acknowledge his divinity.

Either way it came to the singular result of challenging the Queen to what he called "a test of whether losing her virginity made a difference in her battling skills". Apollo would have whacked the drunk dry if Athena had not halted him.

Because this was Dionysus – wild and free, unpredictable, and drunk. Almost always drunk. If he was not being fun he was being an asshole, and the most torturous time is when he was acting both.

The soft moist sand underneath the soles of her sandals was exhilarating. Athena reveled in such simple things – her hand tight on a random spear, the rush of excitement, and her senses being nimble at the simplest eye movement of Dionysus' weapon now striking above her.

He was skilled with a staff, a gentle choice, by gentle it meant there was nothing sharp in it to draw blood from skin. But the blister and bruises could be as lethal as that of how the back of a sword could be manipulated. He wasn't exactly born to fight; he was born to cause frenzy.

She was laughing at Dionysus' crackpot means to intimidate, making high pitched sounds and swinging the staff in the air like a possessed monkey. Theirs turned out to be a game of tag running around the corners and Dionysus missing all the right opportunities.

With a swing of his rod, the Queen dodged, sliding as the sand spewed at the brush of her foot. She quickly recovered back to a striking position when – at a blink – a swift hand caught the shaft of her spear, making her buckle.

No one could ever have done one as risky as that with a bare hand. No one but of equal agility than the war god himself… Ares.

Athena let her guard down, silently cursing, eyes widened at a sudden appearance. Dionysus lay moaning on the sand behind the King. He was covering an eye with a pained, aghast expression. Athena frowned as she straightened herself; Brute punched the drunk just to steal the moment. How sweet.

"Strange," she began, "Your place had always been in an actual bloodbath, not mock fights."

He never said anything, though, just tightened the iron wristbands below both hands with an air of hostility about him. Ares pulled a double-edged sword of average length and tossed it on the sand just before her feet prior to picking a similar blade for himself. Athena stared at the weapon below her, contemplating whether accepting a challenge from the esteemed manslaughtering god was a good idea.

And yet why not. She wanted to release some tension. Perhaps it wouldn't be driven too far, at least she had control of herself. Athena dropped the spear at hand to the far side before flicking her foot at the hilt of the sword and kicking it up to her grasp so deft and artful, and so soon did Ares charge without giving her time to weigh her weapon.

Athena gasped, fully resisting the pressure of Ares' blade against hers. Before another strike from above, she countered faster, hitting his sword to the right before swooping in to Ares' unprotected left. She hoped to end it with a quick slash to his ribs but the god had jumped out of the way right before taking a swing of his own.

A few more blocks of his strikes had her panting; Ares wasn't taking this a practice, she reckoned, not by the way he hammered like a bloodthirsty scum. Most of the time she was on defense and unable to concentrate at the fact that she was dancing blades with one she shunned most. When at last he had the edge of his sword frozen on her throat did she sigh.

"I'm confused," The King withdrew, pleased with himself. "How are you called goddess of war when you nick like a grandmother?"

Athena chuckled in the midst of recovery. "I'll take that as a compliment…"

"These mortal weapons are stale, no fun at all."

"You know what happens with a wound from divine weapons. Can't take that risk."

Ares shrugged. "As you say. Can't take the risk breaking your heart when you lose as well, if I use my true blade, that is."

"Impossible," Athena smiled, lashes lowered, "You can't break something that's already broken."

She watched his lips turn into a straight line and long before he could react, the Queen was already on heels scuffling swords. She blocked and parried relentlessly, beautifully; though Ares outmatched her in strength, even he was enamored by the poise and elegance she styled. It took quite a while until Athena managed to snip Ares' sword from his hand and onto the sand, and had her blade resting at the back of his neck.

His red pools glinted. "Must've taken an awful lot figuring how to disarm me."

"On the contrary," Athena detangled herself, now taking the time to gloat. "Been counting the maximum times you could've gone down."

Ares felt it – stings of light cuts on eight parts of his body, all in vulnerable places.

"They could've been death blows if you were mortal," She bent to pick up his sword, "You're too open, Ares. So many blind spots. It's pretty obvious you're right handed, your left's too exposed. Am I fighting a scarecrow or a statue?"

"I'd like to take that as a bet," the King smirked before catching the sword Athena pitched. He pointed the tip at her limbs, eyes narrowing, "And if I win, that skirt goes to the trash. Too short for my liking."

She arced a brow, "You have Greece to lord over. Keep your nose out of my wardrobe."

"Nonsense. I keep the best sights to myself." Ares resumed assault, and both continued to delve in the clash of swords, weaving and swinging. He seemed to take her words well; Athena could admit the sudden difficulty stealing a nip at his blind spots, and it impressed her. Where he outclassed her in stamina, she held advantage at speed and flexibility, twisting and turning as if she had wings. The King thought countless of the wars they rivaled. What better glory had it been if they fought side by side instead.

Dodging a horizontal strike, Ares had managed to trip one of her ankles and drove her to the knee. At the impulse of adrenaline he counter-attacked too solidly that Athena gave a cry upon contact of his blade on her skin.

"Athena!" He receded, quickly throwing his sword in her aid. In a flash he was kneeling beside her. The back of her hand was now bleeding.

"Damn it… I – I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"

The Queen shook her head, smiling. Her legs were covered in dirt. "Come on, god of war, it happens. What's a practice without a bruise or even a bit of blood? Not that I'm a masochist though."

"I was hoping you were," he murmured half-smiling back, standing before a stretch of his palm.

Athena scoffed. "Gross." She looked at his hand, stared at it while a series of thoughts ran across her head. Would she be giving the wrong signal just letting him help her? Not that she had become self conscious. Only she vowed to stop leading him on and giving false hopes of ever returning to him. She hadn't known it was quite difficult. As if the longer she runs off, twice was the speed of chase to her.

But before her mind could make a decision, her hand had already moved to take his.

And then came the sound of an arrow piercing through flesh.

Athena felt tiny drops of blood splatter across her face. She saw how the quick slide of thin weapon make Ares' head twist harshly to the side.

Immediately she turned to where it came from, eyes in full horror at Apollo lowering his bow. His divine bow. The Sun god made sure this was no ordinary wound.

Ares regained himself, reeling with shock now slowly turning to ire.

"Missed," Apollo shrugged sarcastically. Then came cold blue vengeful eyes. "Keep that filthy hand off her."

The King wiped the wound with the back of his hand, teeth grinding. Too late, Athena knew, sensing a newfound wrath budding from him. The strangely calm Ares just a while ago had given in to his usual primal self. Athena stood quick to encircle an arm around his abdomen, "Ares." Their faces met and in her storm grey eyes was a plea that he forgive the misdeed or there would havoc. "Don't."

But she was dealing with a frustrated, jealous sucker for pain. Ares loathed rivalry; he mauled Adonis to death in the guise of a boar and he did not even love Aphrodite. To hear Athena defend Apollo summoned a hurricane of fire that sparked in his bloodred eyes.

Of course… he chose havoc.

The King pushed his way from Athena, picking the scattered sword and strode carelessly at Apollo with a glare enough to make a mortal's hair turn white.

Equally repulsed, Apollo pulled another arrow and aimed between Ares' eyes. The King was now donned in the war god he was, screaming as he swung his sword at the coming bullet of flame which led off knocking a pillar. Apollo ceased his bow and grabbed a nearby sword from its scabbard. He marched off to meet the nearing chaos, turning deaf from the distant panicked call of his twin sister immediately appearing at the crumbling sound of stone and marble.

Artemis ran with intent to pull her brother back, only herself to be whisked away by Mars to safety. Had the Roman not done it, she would have been caught between a crossfire of sword striking against wristband.

As soon as Apollo's strike was blocked, Ares drove the hilt of his sword on his opponent's gut.

"STOP IT!"

Athena screeched seeing Apollo fall and Ares raising his blade. Apollo took a handful of sand and thrashed it across Ares' eyes, making the King bellow. The training court had turned into an actual battlefield of two gods overpowering each other. The clatter of armory broke, mixed with Artemis' afflicted calls.

Athena herself could not move. They were now bent to kill each other in the manners of snarls and punches and clashes of various weapons scattered from tearing down the displays. If it were only Ares she would have understood better… but Apollo…?

Right now the King has just hurled a spear, breaking through Apollo's raised shield, the force making him grovel on the dirt. Ares furiously kicked the metal off. Together with the moon goddess' wail did Ares slash a dagger successfully through Apollo's side. Molten liquid dripped on the sand as the Sun god looked up to see a sword about to slice his throat, but quick enough to hold a shard of pointed metal ready to plunge into Ares' heart.

As though waking from a nightmare, the two gods had suddenly been parted by thick strips of menacing vines rapidly twisting around their bodies.

"OH AM I INTER-RUP-TING SOMETHING!?"

Dionysus was a mix of exhilaration and madness, clapping slowly but loud enough to sense he wasn't becoming pleased. And it was never a good thing when he was not pleased. He had this kind of split personality – one day leading a merriment and the next be hypnotizing someone's daughters to tear their father's flesh.

"You want to play games is it? Let's do this then – wrapped around your sorry asses is my lovely creation. Fact, I sank a ship with these and I don't mind squelching a god with them either!"

"Dionysus, you have to let them go," Athena commanded, hearing the pained grunts.

"No YOU have to leash your husband, and Artemis my love," He turned to the Huntress, "Good riddance when did your brother decide to be some brainless schmuck!"

Gaining no response and not planning to, Dionysus turned to his work. "Now, as I was saying, the game's pretty simple. Either of you who tries t – " "Release me!" "Right."

Apollo was struggling, fastened against the side of a felled pillar and trying to reach for the shard of iron. The tip of his mouth was bruised purple and unquenched anger stilled his eyes. At once the vines turned sturdier and wound even tighter like a python on its kill. The god winced.

Athena took a glance at her husband who was already glaring at her, inspecting her reaction at Apollo's pain. He was breathing furiously against the wretched stems around his neck, the wound on his right cheek still bleeding. She gave a sloth but stern shake of head, silvers warning his stupidity might cost his throat. This was no time to be idiotic with a berserk Dionysus.

"Go on. Squirm squirm squirm you blasted worm. We're about to see how far you can save that alabaster skin before you calm down." Dionysus toyed with the edge of his panther's ear, its eyes golden as the spotted fur, its tail writhing across the sand in quiet anticipation. Finally Apollo ceased resisting and in a twist of a finger, Dionysus' vines had crept back to the dirt. Artemis had already flown by her brother's side as Ares stood to meet the Sun god's scalding look. The King spat bitterly before wiping the blood off his jaw and left without as much a goodbye.

They gathered by a near fountain moments later. Apollo flinched as his sister patted the bruise on his mouth with a damp cloth – the second shred she tore from her own dress, the first firmly pressed on his side wound.

"What were you thinking?" Dionysus rolled his eyes, twirling wine on his cup. "In case you forgot, that was the bloody god of war you assaulted. With your damn arrow, you damn twit. You just don't go around wounding gods with divine weapons! It's bloody taboo! Think Athena would use a mortal to wound Ares in the war when she could ram that spear in a kraken's ass without sweat!?"

Apollo scoffed. "He punched you."

"And you arrowed him! There's a millennium length difference!" Dionysus waved his hands frantically, "Now you scarred him for life and hey, can you see that?" He looked up with in some kind of a trance.

"What?"

"The vision of him turning you into a mush, you dimwitted god of prophecies!"

"Good!" Apollo snapped, "I would've accomplished more than scars on him had you not interrupted!"

Dionysus was about to bark further when Athena clicked her tongue as signal to keep quiet, or at least stay sane. He grimaced before conceding with a shrug.

The Queen turned to Apollo, "Are you sure you'll be alright?"

When she had a lone nod as an answer she sighed and gathered for an exit. "Let me check on Ares."

"Really Athena? After all? After everything he did to you?"

The Queen went flaccid on the knees at Apollo's sudden furor. Said god stood and threw the cloth once pressed on his wounded side but still not lifting irate eyes off her.

"Whatever happened to you, hm? You used to be ruthless! No one can hold a candle against you, not him, especially him! He is a vile creature no one loves save for his adulterous whore, and we all wanted him cursed but it was most satisfying how 'Zeus' beloved' always makes him look foolish. Now I don't even know who you are."

The way Apollo looked disgustingly at her head to heels struck a nerve.

"Brother, stop," a distressed Artemis begged before encouraging the Queen to go. "Athena, surely my twin is a bit tired. He doesn't know what he's saying…"

"The hell I do!"

"Why, what am I now, Apollo?" Athena asked, her voice injured.

"You turned weak, went soft… You fall short from the one I fell in love with. She was fierce! Never reckless. She could protect herself!"

"Then you should have remembered that before loosening the arrow," came the Queen, "And if you did love me then you would know how complex these feelings could get."

When Athena finally disappeared did Apollo exhale sharply and shook his head in an itch to follow after her. Dionysus, though, draped an arm over his shoulder and began leading him to an exit on the opposite side.

"Will you stop sucking whale balls and get me to the cellars?" the wine god sounded cocky only to lift the horrid mood. As they padded away with the panther lazily following, Dionysus' voice began to fade. "Oh blimey! I forgot to tell you I just got married! Ha-ha…!"

Vexed blue eyes made Artemis, watching them leave and hearing the sound of her own heartbeats return to normal. She wanted to understand the unfathomable way Apollo had just acted. He was different… so angry where he has never been angry before, never spoke rude words with the intent to hurt. He was a sweet kind soul, full of light, a pretty lad who only indulges in poetry and music. And he loved Athena eons before she was Queen; it was no secret. He loved her and though she could not promise him anything he still did. Had it not come back to life within him when his heart started beating again?

The huntress bent to pick the cloth Apollo threw off the floor. She would have had it burned if not for the even more abhorrent sight she set on. Her brother used the linen to press on a wound, had he not? Yet where there should be smudges of red blood, there was the stain of gold. Artemis' breath hitched, overturning the cloth and desperate to reject her doubts.

But it was real liquid gold, still fresh, still moist.

"I'd hoped you've noticed that earlier, you, especially,"

Artemis turned to Mars standing behind her. She lowered the cloth. The smudge of gold sparkled and the more she stared at it the deeper horror stung.

"That is – " "Ichor." Artemis cut through, "Blood of the old gods, the first generation…"

Mars' lips closed in a straight line, he'd heard of the tales. He just could not believe he was so close from something so distant past.

"They said when our Father and his brothers won the titanomachy, Cronos' blood spilled... with his draining strength he cursed it vehemently until it turned poison that no one could dare touch it."

"Yes," the Red god leaned closer, his golden eyes turned mordant. "Now what is it doing in your brother's veins?"

She was a mess of doubts and inconsistencies walking through endless mazes of halls and courtyards. Athena was fighting a befuddled war in her mind. She had spun off to the confines of her room after the heated argument with Apollo, something that happened the first time since immemorial. Nike so often caught her mistress mumbling rubbish to herself throughout clearing her skin and slipping into graceful silks of powdered blue, belted with gold at the small waist and shaping out her fine form.

Before she'd ask herself her true destination, she came to realize she was standing before Ares' half opened doors. Athena sighed shakily, confronted her inner demons and moved to push through… but halted.

She heard him talk, not to her but to another within the room.

"We used to drink so much."

"And so much action after, wasn't it?"

The Queen stopped midway, heart sinking into a shadow that identified his companion.

He'll kill him, or have him killed again – it did not matter. He literally would have done it if not for that weasel and his vines. He would have bathed in Apollo's blood and would never feel remorse nor an inch of anxiety. Right where he thundered through his own doors, he made a vow to slay the cretin they call Sun god.

Ares washed off the dried crimson from his wound and stared at the reflection from the polished silver before him. His fingers ran across the fresh scar running horizontal from right jaw to underneath the nearest eye. Drifting off to the image of that smug grin in Apollo's face only made his lips curl to reveal his teeth grinding. Threatening him was trivial, wounding him, insignificant. But to win over Athena's favor was fucking unforgiveable!

"Rough day?"

Ares was so lost in venomous thoughts he failed to notice Olympus' most beautiful gem sitting by the window, bathed in fading sunlight so breathtaking. Turquoise irises peered through dark curved lashes. She looked up, dangling earrings swaying, meekly emphasized by the clean brush up of golden hair tied behind her head. A second of Aphrodite's mystic look was enough to drive a man, or woman, to the knees. He swallowed, glancing awhile at the goddess he had just right now remembered despite the infamy of their unions.

"What are you doing here?" the King quickly averted his gaze.

She shrugged. He sighed. How in hell could she make even shrugging so pretty?

"Just wanting to see how you are," "I'm breathing." Ares' answers were immediate, and so dry it could make council meetings less boring.

Aphrodite smiled. She was lustful but not stupid – she knows if a man's desire for her had begun to pull southward. "I remember we used to talk so much."

"We used to drink so much," a cold reply.

"And so much action after, wasn't it?"

Before he knew it she was barely less than a feet from him, and the smell of lavender filled his nose so familiar, so enticing. A soft powdered hand ran through his cheek, faintly pushing so he could look at her… at what he had been missing, what she thought he had been missing. And he did look at her – the honey gloss on her lips, the sweet curve of collarbone, the tips of her breasts against silken ivory garbs. She pressed her lips on the side of his face and whispered. "You are pained. I suffer as such to see you like this." He could hear her voice break. "Come back to me…"

When Aphrodite made him look at her there was no denying the adoration she held so effortlessly.

And nothing else. From a range of fuzzy to carnal, nothing. Where he used to be so addicted now felt like a chasm, just a cavity of lost memories he could not go back to even if he tried.

I know you'll miss me… The wretched Queen had cursed him. Damnation!

Her eyes continued to search for him and Ares held her hand only to gently let it go – a silent act that spoke magnitudes.

"I…" the King ground his teeth in search of a euphemism for we're done but he was no poet and his tongue was a blade. Instead he took off for the door hoping it would send her the right message.

"Ares I'm with child!"

As if the floor had turned slimy, he had automatically twisted heels back to her. "What?"

Aphrodite suppressed the pained scoff. "I'm with child. I am pregnant… I'm carrying your baby yet again, in what language do you want me say it so you could understand?"

There weren't any curse to measure the exact mental retardation Ares was undergoing. It came out as cold sweat, and ultimate self disgrace at process. He had been gaping for a time his mouth had begun to dry. "When was this…?"

"What does it matter, Ares? You think I'm taking this incredibly well?" The goddess herself was in desperate stance wiping her cheek. "I am as scared! I haven't slept in days thinking, fearing for me, for this child… if the Queen knows…"

He closed his eyes in a sigh, accounting well he had been fooling around her bed right before and after his wedding – when Athena was being an arrogant harpy and he was wroth over her unbreakable self.

"Are you well?"

Aphrodite sniffled before a nod.

"You need anything?"

She looked away. "You will let me keep it, won't you?"

Ares' shoulders sagged in disbelief. "That question, really Aphrodite? You think me Zeus? Turn you into a stinking bug or some four legged mud squatter to hide you from carrying my child? Shouldn't I have done that with Eros already? Phobos and Deimos?... You don't dare compare me to that lecher!" He ran rough hands across his hair in ire and desperation, finally venting it out with a swift fist against the other half of the door, forcing it open to a sight which made his heart fall to his stomach. Ares could feel his blood drain.

Silver pools looked up at him before a single tear grazed her cheek. "Well," Athena was discovered. She forced a smile, "Congratulations – "

Right after her face crumpled unable to mask the throbbing pain then she ran off with the little dignity she had left. The King's emotions erupted in riot within his head, pounding harder and harder until a numbness strained his skin and finally he went flying off in trace of his wife's footsteps. Aphrodite, in her own shame, covered palms over her face and sat on the edge of his past lover's bed.

Along the twists and turns of the hallway he called her name once, twice but she remained deaf. He was close behind her but couldn't put himself to pull her close. But he was trying, Ares wanted to scream and just fall into the seduction of plunder, he was trying so hard to change… for her. For her!

But as if time was such a bastard, it keeps interrupting on his affairs – turning tables and rubbing salt on open wounds, and it just keeps on coming! The cycle of hurting her goes on. If not now then later.

Athena broke through the Queenschamber. Before Ares could open his mouth she turned to him with claws wide open behind an anguish stricken face.

"DON'T."

"It's not what you think…"

The Queen grabbed a small clay jar nearby and smashed it on the floor. As its pieces scattered harshly, she screamed.

"WHAT HAVE I DONE WRONG!?" came a sob choked with anger, "What!? I was good! I did what was right! I was dutiful! I was free from indulging in disgust and immorality while YOU wallowed in it like pigs!"

The King could only close his eyes and sigh, his fists tightening.

"I was forced to marry YOU! And I did! I did without ever the thought and act of betraying you – because it was the right thing! And she…" her voice finally trailed off, "She is a muddied, ruined trash… you both are, polygamous whores you both are… and yet why, why does she get to keep another child and I. LOST. MINE!"

The crack of palm against Ares' scarred cheek swiped the air, twisting his neck and turning the flesh red.

"Why do your bastards breathe and your wife mourned! I deserved it too! I deserved that child and you took it from me!"

Ares held back the self loathing that came as a sharp inhale. And with it he shoved the door to lock, its hard crash on the frame undulated on the floor. The King strode towards her without warning. "Say it then," he hissed, "Tell me to leave. Right. Now. And I will."

Athena looked up. He was towering over her, goading, still pushing through her private space and she took steps back like a trapped deer but he pursued.

"This isn't a good idea…" she muttered, tears still clinging on her eyes.

"You're still not saying it."

"Don't you come any closer..."

At this he snapped full of ammunition, unclipped his cape and let it gather to the floor. "Wrong answer."

A/N : Ah! Thank God there's friggin' coffee, and your reviews too! :D A general bit of response to your wonderful words -

Ohhhh dear. Sorry to have to make you suffer for a time... because this chapter has even extended that suffering. But it will end! I swear! By chapter 100 perhaps! XD Kidding. And Ares will grip on that dress, I assure you. *smirk* I haven't been much of a Hephy boy fan but looking through his descriptions, I really feel the need to turn him into something more than just a craftsman. And I will! As to that Ursine Vulpine Wicked Game, thanks, I couldn't get it out of my head since last week though. It got me best with "It's strange what desire will make foolish people do". Ovid did inspire the idea of pitching Mars into this stuff, so I was cracking up at the review because MAN WE HAVE GOT TO BE BEST FRIENDS! Haha.

Again, my endless thanks. I and my family are safe, thank you. My updates might take a while now that we're back to work. Sorry for errors I might have overlooked. Keep in touch! Stay safe!