If gods could die, Ares would accept his fate with open arms. After all, who would miss
him? Perhaps his children, his children adored him, though he knew that he did not deserve such a thing. To most, Ares was but a brute, one whose fantasies were filled with nothing but mindless slaughter. That was not him, at least not completely. He could not deny the thrill of battle, it was built into his very being to fight. Yet, that was not all he was.
No one saw him for who he was more than she had. Once a blazing love, only to become unrequited in the face of amnesia. Perhaps he was not meant to be loved, to be understood. It pained him to know that he had been given a taste of the feeling before it was cruelly ripped from his fingers. Now, all he had were his thoughts and the damned letters that would never see the light of day. He wanted nothing more than to toss the parchments into the fireplace, watch them burn and drag those calamitous emotions with it.
What had love done for him besides condemning him to eternal suffering? These were the thoughts that haunted the war god, his hand raking through his dark auburn hair. He sighed, rolling the parchment up like a scroll before hiding it with the others within a hidden compartment in his drawer. These letters were among his most beloved possessions, even if he could not bring himself to read them over after they were written, for they contained his very soul. He would toss himself into the flames of the hearth before he allowed anyone to read them.
Ares turned upon hearing the sound of knocking. The god stood, locking up his secrets before approaching his visitor. Outside his abode stood his mischievous half brother, the messenger of the gods. Ares leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms and giving his brother a nod in acknowledgement. He didn't have the energy to deal with his shenanigans at the moment.
Hermes didn't even seem to notice his annoyance, wearing a large grin on his face as their gazes met.
"The king calls for a council meeting, I trust that you will be in attendance? He calls it mandatory, I believe something may be stirring."
Ares sighed, flicking his wrist to dismiss his words.
"Who am I to evoke the king's wrath? I'm sure you have other messages to relay, I'll be there soon," he said. In all honesty, Ares had little care for upsetting his father, but he felt no need to rebel. Besides, if something were stirring, Ares wanted to be among the first to hear. If it were a battle, he was itching to join another fight.
Hermes shrugged, but the cheeky grin never left his face.
"Well alright then, brother. If you ever need a letter sent, you know who to go to," he said, eyeing the quills and parchment on the war god's desk.
Ares glared at his brother and moved swiftly to clean his desk. If Hermes' eye caught the content of any of his letters, he was sure to be beheaded. Perhaps execution would be preferable over the absolute humiliation he'd face, or worse, the look of disgust he'd receive from his old love. The thought caused him to shiver. He would rather burn in Tartarus than have her look at him that way.
Hermes had left his abode as quickly as he entered. There was no sign that he ever had been there, but his presence was not one that he could simply imagine. Just like Athena's. When he closed his eyes, he could still see her smile, feel her presence as if she were still with him. Her face was ingrained into his memory. Nothing would take that away from him.
Ares entered the council hall. Athena was already seated in her throne, waiting intently for the meeting to start. Even then, she continued to work. She did not even bother to look at him when he entered. Ares would have given anything for her to look at him like she used to, even for a second.
Soon enough, the other gods began to take their places. Now, the only ones missing were the monarchs themselves. They were never the last to arrive at an Olympian gathering. Ares' eyes scanned the throne room. By now, Athena had put away her maps and scrolls. He could see a certain stiffness in the way that she sat, almost as if she knew something.
The room went silent as soon as the king and queen entered the Olympian chambers. The atmosphere was somber, though Ares did not know why. All eyes were on them, all conversations had ceased. After the king and queen of the heavens took their thrones, Zeus began to speak.
"Olympus has changed since the war and I know you are all aware of it. Kronos had struck me, putting in one last taunt before his defeat. Though I have hopes that I will recover, we must be prepared for the worst. It is with this in mind that I officially name Athena as my heir."
Zeus turned to face Athena. His gaze was cold, but beneath his eyes held a vulnerability that was unexpected from the king of the gods.
"Athena, my child, my legacy, do you accept your title as heir?"
Athena stood from her throne, her steps reverberating through the room as she
approached her father. With her head bowed, she kneeled.
"I would not let you down, father. I wish nothing but health and further prosperity in your reign, but I accept my role as heir."
The silence was deafening. Ares watched as Zeus offered Athena his hand to stand. A few more words were spoken, but Ares did not process any of them. Zeus was fading. Athena was to be named his heir. This was all too much.
As soon as the meeting ended, Ares walked off. He needed time to process the new
information, or at least a couple of drinks. He only paused when he heard a familiar voice call out his name. Why would she call for him? Surely he hadn't hallucinated her words. His name on her lips… the sound of it was enough to bring him to his knees. Ares whipped around to face her, noticing just how close she was to him. He wanted nothing more than to cup her jaw with his hand.
Discomfort was not enough of a word to describe how she looked. Athena's lips were pursed, and she couldn't quite seem to meet his eyes. It was unlike her to seem so unsure. Perhaps he had just imagined her calling his name. Then she said it again.
"Ares. May we speak in private?" She asked. Her words seemed forced, as if she wanted nothing more than to take them back. But she wanted to talk to him. She wanted to talk to him. The words died in his throat. He could hardly breathe. So he nodded, looking her over in hopes of figuring out why she wanted to talk.
Athena led him to an empty corridor, her pace quick and relentless. She did not turn to face him until they were alone. Ares could feel his heart pounding against his chest, his throat so parched that he feared he would be unable to answer if she asked him to. Once Athena was sure they were alone, she cleared her throat. Her eyes flashed a bright grey, indicating that she had some sort of brilliant idea.
"Our rivalry has gone on for far too long, Ares. Do you not think it is time that we put an end to such a futile relationship? It would benefit us both to at least act civil," She said. Civil? Ares supposed that was a start. He took Athena's hand in his own, placing a kiss on her knuckle. He gave her a dazzling smile, one that most would swoon for. She would have teased him relentlessly for it years ago.
"I suppose you are right. I look forward to working with you," he said.
"As do I."
A/N: hey guys :), it's been a couple of years since I last posted. I know it's been a while, but Myths About Us has always meant a lot to me, so I hope you guys enjoy the rewrite! I have a few things planned and a bit more written, so I'll try my best to update decently enough!