Heart Of Ares

The blonde looked at his muses, each one more beautiful than the last. There were brunettes, chestnuts, blondes, redheads, freckled, freckled, bulky. A row of beauties to choose from. He loved them like his life and for the same reason, he couldn't decide which one to send.

Ares, the god of war. He was a maniac, a tyrant, a beast.

"And? What will it be?" Asked her sister with her hands on her hips somewhat annoyed by the wait.

She frowned still unable to decide, they all looked scared.

"I don't understand why it must be one of my muses" he said, postponing the moment of delivering the woman.

"It's what Mother ordered" Hebe released annoyed by the reluctant behavior of the star.

"He can heal himself"

"It's what Mother ordered" her sister said again. Apollo knew that if Hera ordered something, it was better for him to obey, otherwise, the queen would take the refusal very badly.

With no choice, he turned to his muses again. He had to choose someone strong, someone, who would not be frightened by the god of war like everyone he knew. Someone... so disrespectful and haughty that she became annoying. He smiled looking at the redhead.

She looked back at him, and her eyes flashed with fear. I didn't let it show for long though. The fear became fire in his eyes.

"Come here, Daria"

The muse approached and he took her face with both hands.

"If you feel threatened in any way, get out of there at that precise moment. Do you understand?"

She glared at him and nodded.

Daría had been taken to the temple of Apollo a very short time ago, she still did not get used to have a master and was very rebellious, you could even say that she was wild.

This made Apollo especially appreciate her. She didn't just let herself be guided, she fought against the current.

He saw how the muse was carried by his sister to the carriage and sighed. I hoped it was okay. While she was the one to serve such a menacing god, she could drive him out of her mind at any moment.

XXX

Daría watched the blonde goddess leave, she had left her at the door of the god's chambers and had fled. What a goddess.

She knocked on the huge golden door but no one answered, forcing himself to gather his courage, she pushed the door open and crossed the threshold.

Everything looked as calm as if he were alone. Perhaps he had gone to heal elsewhere.

After all, he was not supposed to live on Olympus anymore. She had not yet arrived when this had happened but the other muses had told her the story of Ares and Aphrodite.

Discovered in full betrayal of the goddess's husband and exposed to the shame of being seen by every one of the gods in full swing. It had been one of the war god's main reasons for fleeing to Thrace, that and the banishment of his sister Eris.

He took a couple more steps when he heard a groan. He froze. He was there, he was there.

Well, this is what he had come to, and the sooner he finished, the sooner he would leave.

She approached the god's room and stepped over the threshold. She saw him lying on the bed, shaking with pain, despite his immense size, he looked almost ... defenseless.

He approached her until he touched her arm, the man turned so quickly that he made her jump, his gaze was as fierce as a lion's and his face so brutal that it made her recoil. It reminded him of a wounded animal that wanders off into the dark so it can lick its wounds in peace.

"I ... am ... a muse ... I ... have been sent ... to ... to ... help you, with ... your wounds"

"Long, I don't need your help" The god's voice was so raspy and deep that it reminded Daria of a being from the dark forest.

The muse lowered her gaze to his arm, was caught by the huge hand of the god, and wanted to scream.

The threat, threatened, what had Apollo said about the threats?

"I ... I'm ... sorry ..."

The god's face twitched, small beads of sweat formed on his forehead and he lay back due to the intense pain.

"Are you okay?" The muse released frightened.

Until then I notice the huge golden stain on the white sheets. The god was bleeding.

I quickly look for the materials to clean his wounds and bandage him. She returned and tried to accommodate him in a better position but the god, with one arm, threw her to the floor of the room.

"I told you to get out" He let out almost in a growl.

"I will do that. After I heal your wounds"

The god looked at her with hatred but was silent. He had no more strength to fight.

The muse managed to put him on his back and began to clean the huge wound on his belly.

The god had been completely pierced by a spear. She had never seen anything like this, it wasn't that she had seen many wounds in her life. She was a muse, not a harpy. By all the gods!

She cleaned his wounds and sold him as well as he could. The man had long since fallen into unconsciousness and when he finished, she could finally see him without fear of having his head ripped off.

His skin was golden, his hair as black as coal, long to below his shoulders, and his face seemed sculpted by Zeus himself. And his muscles, she had never seen such muscles, as hard as a rock, but smooth as silk. His lips, could they be that perfect? Were they as soft as they looked? His nose was somewhat large and crooked, sure of past battles, but it only made him look more manly. His thick black beard framed his face so perfectly that it didn't surprise him that Aphrodite had fallen in love with him. She, who only loved beauty, had had the most beautiful man on Olympus.

He didn't know why, but he stayed by her side until the sun rose.

Sleep overcame her without her even realizing it and she fell asleep beside him. Having seen his perfect face as the last thing before falling into the arms of Morpheus.

When he woke up, he wanted to retire, return to the temple of Apollo and forget that he had helped the god of war. But he was still injured. The order had been to heal his wounds, completely, hadn't he?

The god was still asleep, he was not surprised, he was seriously injured. He had small wounds and lacerations all over his body, although the one on his abdomen was the worst, the others also demanded care.

The muse sighed and began to treat the small wounds on her face. She was sewing one into her brow when the god's eyes, golden as the sun opened and glared at her.

She pulled away from him as far as she could, but again, she had his arm trapped.

"I ... I was just ... trying to ..."

"Who are you?" His voice made the hair on the back of the muse's neck stand up.

"I am Daria ... my lord" she forced herself to curtsy, she gritted her teeth, she always did, she was not a servant, she was a muse. And it should be treated as such. She hated having to pay respect to the gods as if they were better than her.

"Who sent you?"

"Apollo ... by order of his mother"

"Apollo? Are you one of his muses?"

"So is"

The god grunted and stood up, not without cursing due to the pain.

"I'm not done with his wound yet"

"I know"

Even so, he did not care, he reached a small silver table and poured himself ambrosia, drank it in one gulp, and poured himself some more.

Daria watched him do it about three times before going back to her side and letting her finish her work. He looked better, the ambrosia made the gods regain strength quickly.

I groan at the stabbing pain as the muse resumed her task.

"I'm sorry" Said the redhead with a grimace.

"Okay, I've endured much worse pain"

"I know" Daria whispered, remembering the wound on his abdomen.

The muse continued with her work of healing the god's wounds. It went from his lacerated face to his chest, to his abdomen, and...

The god threw the blanket that was tied around his waist revealing his entire nakedness.

The muse gulped and tried not to show her nervousness. He couldn't, his hands immediately started shaking.

The god smirked, causing the muse to frown and "forget" to be careful.

"So, a muse. What do you do doing the servants' work? I thought that Apollo's collection was treated with the same care as himself"

She glared at him, servitude? Collection? She was none of that.

"The queen goddess ordered a muse to be brought to her. From then on I don't know anything" She released sour.

He looked at her with a frown. She was not like the other muses, so willing to attend to the gods, she seemed, annoyed. Maybe it wasn't caring, maybe it was the god she had to attend to that was bothering her.

He got up when the woman finished and served more ambrosia.

"You'll stay tonight too, I'll need someone to clean and sell my wounds tomorrow" That would make her learn, he thought

She clenched her jaw and didn't say a word. The god approached her slowly, with that air of superiority so typical of him, and lifted her chin so that she could see him in the eyes.

"In agreement?"

"Yes"

The muse looked at the window with melancholy. The fruit on her plate was intact and the god of war was looking at her with a frown.

"Won't you eat?"

"I'm not hungry"

"Would you rather be outside jumping and dancing in the rain? That is what the muses do, right?"

"You mistake us for nymphs"

"Ah yes, nymphs, those creatures are truly maddening. What do the muses do then?"

"The muses, we are art, we give mortals the inspiration they need to create it"

"Ah, of course, art, that unnecessary thing in which mortals waste so much time"

She got up and seriously thought about slapping him. But just because she was a rebel did not mean she was stupid, that man could kill her just by squeezing her between his hands. He withdrew from the room in anger. How dare he? How dare he make fun of her like that, of what she was?

After a few moments, I hear the heavy footsteps of the god.

"You will sleep here" He said pointing to a sofa next to the window "And don't even think about escaping through the window, nobody can get out unless I decide to"

"I can't get out of Olympus in any case. Even if you decide, it would have to be Zeus who approved" She released scathing and haughty, if he wasn't going to respect her, she didn't have to respect him. Who was he after all? just a huge god of war, a great ignorant barbarian.

He frowned.

"Zeus? King Zeus himself? And what have you done to deserve such honor?" He released ironically.

"I have not done anything. It's my nature that prevents him from trusting me, and he's right because the moment he gets careless, I'll run away ... and this time they won't be able to catch me"

"You say you want to leave Apollo?" Ares had never heard that a muse did not want to be with Apollo, he was her patron, right?

"I was not born for the confinement" she said looking at the garden where birds, butterflies, fireflies, and all kinds of creatures lived in freedom.

"Why's that?" Asked the god trying not to seem too involved in the conversation.

She didn't answer anymore, he hated being left with the word in his mouth. But he was so tired that he fell asleep as soon as he lay down. My jaw clenched as he felt the burning in his abdomen. He looked down and found the girl's concentrated face.

"So the muses know how to heal wounds?" He asked trying to divert his thoughts from the pain.

"I don't know if all of them, I learned thanks to my mother. Every time I did some mischief as a child, my punishment was to spend my afternoons with the healer. I attended births, wounds, and broken wings"

"Who is your mother?" I ask again thinking about the goddesses. He couldn't remember any goddess on Olympus who looked like him. The muse hesitated a bit, stopped moving her hands.

"Morinda" The muse answered, looking up slowly, daring him to mock?

"Morinda? The queen of the fairies?" He released something skeptical.

She nodded and went back to her work. So that's why she didn't act like the other muses and that's why she looked so ... different from the other goddesses.

"How ... how did you end up here? I mean, I know that for fairies, confinement is ... the worst"

"So is. Unfortunately for me, Dionisio is my father. I'm bound to stay here because of my part of him"

Ares understood what the girl was referring to when she assured her that she would escape at the first opportunity. Fae were not tame creatures, they were wild and free, like birds, if you held them for too long, they ended up perishing. Locking up a fairy was like ripping the wings off a butterfly.

He decided not to say more, he understood that it was a difficult situation for the redhead. After a few more minutes, the muse finished her work.

"Well, the wounds are almost closed, I think that by tomorrow you will be as good as new. It's time for me to go"

Ares nodded. He didn't say thank you and she didn't say more. The muse emerged from the war god's chambers with her fiery hair flying behind her. And both left the meeting as something past, which would not be repeated.

XXX

"Are you okay? We were so worried about you" Nastia said as soon as she saw her arrive at the temple of Apollo.

"I'm fine, I can take care of myself"

"Yes, sure, but ... it's Ares, the god of war. The bravest and cruelest of the gods. We were afraid ... you ..."

"Okay, I was too weak to do more than complain and insult me"

"Well, I'm glad you're here, safe and sound"

Daría smiled, she was beginning to feel the temple as her home, it was not like being free in its forests but at least the other muses were courteous to her and they did not make her less for not being entirely Olympian. He thought that in the temple of Apollo he would finally have a well-deserved rest until the brown muse gave him the news.

"Party? Tonight? Oh no, I'm so tired today"

"I know, I'm sorry, but it's the weekly meeting of Apollo and his brothers and ..."

"Yes, I had forgotten. It's just that I'm very tired"

The other muses entered at that moment, the muse of the drama looked at her and almost began to cry.

"Oh, my dear girl. We have been so worried about you"

"I'm fine, I only had to tend to a barbarian for a few hours. In which I spend most of my time asleep. Truth be told, it wasn't that bad. Not like I expected and ..."

"What wasn't so bad?" Asked the muse of the drama "Oh, my girl. You're having a breakdown"

I take her by the arms and lead her to the tub where the others began to massage and bathe her.

Daría was going to claim that she was fine but when she saw the attention she received, she looked at them with teary eyes and said:

"Oh, it was so horrible, that horrible monster looked at me ugly ..."

"Shhh, honey, you're safe now"

Nastia rolled her eyes when she saw the performance of the muses and left there, there was still much to prepare for the meeting.

The gods began to arrive one by one, everyone more imposing than the last. When everyone was finally gathered, Apollo raised his glass.

But the toast was interrupted by the thunderous clanging of a carriage pulled by two huge black steeds.

The footsteps echoed from the entrance to the main hall, no one, not even a god dared to speak. Everyone was so impressed to see him there that they just watched him enter with all his ferocity.

"Ares" Apollo said with his best fake smile "I'm glad that you have finally decided to join us in celebration"

Ares nodded and took a glass of wine from the tray of the muse of the drama who almost passed out.

Ares, as Apollo's brother, was always invited to their meetings but had never attended one. And since his relationship with the patron of the muses was strained, nobody expected it either.

The muses met when the gods began to chatter and alarmed they tried to decide who would attend him.

"It must be you" the dramatic muse said, looking at Daria

"Me? Because I?"

"It's not that bad, you said it a few minutes ago"

"I was catatonic"

"Well, it won't be me ... nor me ..." the muses began to shout.

"Okay, I'll go" The redhead gave an expletive and took the jug of wine to go to the main room.

Daría hated serving the gods, she was not a simple nymph, she was a Fae, the Fae do not serve anyone. Just knowing she had to tend to them made her sick and in a bad mood. His hair looked even redder and his gray eyes were colder.

He reached the god of war who was sitting on one of Apollo's red velvet sofas and leaned over to serve him wine.

"I see you're feeling better" she said without a hint of grace.

"That's right, like you said, in the morning I'll be like new"

"I'm glad, who else would take the war to mortals" she let out ironic. She disliked the god's task quite a bit, so many mortals dying without reasonable cause.

"Mortals create their wars even without me. Only me..."

"You incite them" I accuse.

The god looked into her eyes for a few seconds, even though he was sitting and she was standing their gazes were almost on the same level.

"Everyone wants glory, but only a few are willing to pay the price"

"Is that what your father says?"

"I say so. War is necessary. Inevitable"

"No, it is not, it is unworthy of men and despicable. It puts the weak first and the strong behind shields. Innocents die for lands and barbarians shed blood like red wine"

The god looked at her annoyed and then smiled.

"I do not pretend that a muse understands the strategies of a battle. What do you have to know? if you've never been in a more difficult situation than choosing which dress to wear"

She walked away annoyed. What did he know about his past? From what he knew. She could be even older than him. And she didn't doubt it, for she clearly remembered the peace in the world when she was just a child. Protected by her mother's arms. And once she was old enough, protected by the forest, as she should be, until the barbarians dragged her from her home and deposited her in that great cage.

The god of war was bored and did not understand what had led him to attend this meeting. He never showed up for those things, his "brother" invited him just out of courtesy but they both knew he didn't want him to attend. He understood the other gods did not feel good around him. Who would? The conflict was part of him and carried him wherever he went.

I look up and look at her. She wore a lime green dress, and her fiery hair danced down her bareback. All of her was grace and beauty and fire and exuberant savagery.

Someone ordered wine, she came over and served him. The god touched her behind and he was about to get up and slaughter it, his hands were already on the sword but she dropped the wine on the man and he took a step back. The muse smiled mischievously. He understood that although she could not fight the gods, the Fae muse was opposed to her condition day by day. Maybe he couldn't beat the gods but that wouldn't make him bow down. She defended herself.

"Wine!" scream. The muse looked at him and approached reluctantly. He filled his glass and turned around "Wine!" He shouted again when he finished the liquid in one gulp.

She turned around and frowned.

"Your father is the god of wine, right? naturally, you are the one who serves it"

She clenched her jaw and poured the drink into her glass, but did not remove the jug when it was full wetting him too.

The god got up and she took a step back. He smirked, well, she wasn't stupid, she knew she had the upper hand, at least against him.

I spend a time when I just look at her, her eyes gray like silver, her thick lips as red as strawberries, her upturned nose, typical of a Fae. And it was so small. It barely reached her chest, level with the pit of her stomach. Sure, he was the highest of the gods but still. It seemed made of glass and he thought that any touch would break it, but his gaze was not fragile at all, it looked fierce and wild.

"Daria dear, I've been waiting for wine for a long time" Adonis smiled with his stupid face and Ares wanted to strangle him.

The muse smiled and turned away from the god of war.

He realized that the beautiful god was caressing her and she was smiling. The anger of a lost battle invaded him and he went out into the garden.

He leaned against the huge fountain with the figure of Apollo, his brother, always praising himself, almost resembling Narcissus.

Apollo approached him and smiled.

"I'm glad you have come"

"Not to me, I'm not sure why I did it" He blurted out.

"But since you're here, have fun, brother"