The princess of Ares

5

The muse spent the next few days distracted. The muses constantly asked her why her behavior but not even she understood it. The fruit seemed less sweet and the waterless fresh. The sunless radiant and the dream did not come. I had never felt anything like this.

Apollo appeared before her one night and separated her from the other muses.

-Daria dear. Ares has returned from the war and his mother has asked me to send him one of my muses again... - concern could be seen on the god's face.

Daria frowned, a part of her thrilled upon hearing this news.

-Daria, I don't think any of the others could bear to be around him for long, you saw how they behaved at the meeting yourself ...

-I understand Apollo. I will go.

XXX

The muse arrived before the enormous golden gates of the palace of the god of war. I enter without even knocking and I hope to see the same scene as the previous time, a tortured and weak god. But he found the man standing taking off his armor.

Hearing it he turned to her and smiled, not sideways, it was a sincere smile for a few seconds, before noticing it and forcing himself to erase it.

-Apollo... sent me.

-I know, I'm sorry they sent you to such an unpleasant job, again.

The muse approached and watched him. He wasn't too badly hurt this time. Only a few superficial injuries, the armor had taken the worst of it and she internally rejoiced.

-I'll help you with that. - She said seeing the lacerations on his face and chest. He made him sit up and began to clean the wounds on his face.

They were so close that they could smell each other's scent, she smelled of roses and some flowers that he could not identify and he smelled of blood, dust, and death, mixed with his unmistakable aroma. For some reason, the muse found the scent manly and intoxicating.

-Won?

-Always. - the proud god released. With his deep, hoarse voice. 

-There were many dead?

-Always. - He repeated, although less proud.

She nodded without looking into her eyes.

-Have you ever regretted a war?

God didn't have to think about it much, he knew the answer, he thought about it a lot. Even so, I am slow to respond.

-The Trojan War. I was on the wrong side for ... the wrong reasons. And things happened that ... even now... I regret ... that even today ... I wish I could change. 

The god looked at her, and even with reason clouded by his pain, he managed to see hers.

-What's going on?

The muse got up and turned her back to rinse the cloth in the herbal infusion.

-I know about that war ... A man I loved perished in the Trojan War.

He frowned, trying to understand but a new feeling washed over him, putting aside the resentment, pain, and memories of the goddess of beauty and senseless battles, an irrevocable fire-heated his chest.

-Who? - He asked in a hoarse voice, just the one he used when he spoke to the enemy in combat.

The muse finished rinsing the linen cloth in the infusion and turned. She found him standing and walked toward him forcing him to sit up again, beginning to treat the wounds on his chest. It was then that he realized the red light emitted by the god.

-Answer to me.

-He was a great warrior. Achilles. - The muse answered with a frown.

Achilles, he knew him, he had fought against him, he had been the cause of his daughter's death, he had enjoyed nothing more than her death. And now she... was crying for him? Anger began to invade his mind. I stop thinking ...

-I heard that a poisoned arrow went through his heel and ... he died.

The sadness in the girl was perceptible to the god and that infuriated him even more. His breathing sped up and deepened like that of a caged animal.

-I couldn't even say goodbye to him. When they caught me, I never saw him again ... he was my only friend for a long time...

He turned around again, wiping his watery eyes, and turned to find the god standing again. The flashing red glow and black smoke made him recoil. The god frowned wanted to catch her and pull her close again.

After a moment in which she looked at him confused she blurted out:

- What's wrong? Your eyes are red.

The god took a step back and was strange and glad at the same time. Not many were lucky enough to see it in its divine splendor and live to tell about it. Regularly when the red glow highlighted death it would rush into its presence.

-It doesn't matter now ... it happened so long ago ... he will be happy in the Elysian fields ... I'll prepare the bath.

Watching her walk away was torturous even for that fraction of the time, he couldn't help but go after her and watch her prepare the tub with scented salts and flower petals from the threshold.

The truth was that he had thought of the muse while he was away. Even Enio had asked him what the hell was wrong with him? Not even he had the answer to that, he was just a muse who had tended to him for a couple of days. Still, he found himself calling his mother the same day he arrived at Olympus and asking her to tell Apollo to send him a muse again.

-Ready, you can come in. - The muse released, touching the water with her fingers to check that the water was warm.

He frowned, he didn't like being bathed, as if he were an infant as if he couldn't do it himself, but knowing that the muse's soft hands would be on his entire body ... it was simply irresistible.

He removed the last piece of cloth over his body, a silk blanket that covered his masculinity, and stepped into the tub. The muse turned and pretended to have things to do until the water finished covering him. He grumbled, he wasn't an exhibitionist but ... it wouldn't hurt to see desire reflected in the muse's eyes when he saw her nakedness.

The muse began to gently and gently wipe the war residue from her body. He concentrated in the same way on cleaning it as on healing his wounds. I lather and rinse his long black hair in such a way that he never thought of feeling so relaxed. He had never experienced a more erotic situation and the muse was only cleaning him. He almost laughed, he had had thousands of women at his disposal, doing just what he had wanted and a muse, a half-Fae muse disarmed him just by stroking him.

When the bath was over he got out of the tub and drank a couple of glasses of ambrosia. He offered one to her and she refused.

-You are the daughter of a god, you can drink it, not much but ...

-Ambrosia is deadly to the Fae.

He lowered the offered glass and set it aside.

-I'm sorry, I don't know much about the Fae.

-I'm not surprised- said the annoyed muse. - You gods believe you are superior and do not bother to meet other creatures.

-You are right, I would like to redeem that fault. Tell me about them, about the Fae.

This left her speechless, she expected some defensive comment from the god, like the Fae didn't deserve the gods bothering to know about them or something like that. But Ares simply accepted his comment and set out to fix it. She smiled and then bit her lip.

-Maybe I should go back to the temple of Apollo. They just sent me to heal your wounds and they are ...

The god feigned pain in his side and then he saw her and smiled. She seemed not to understand.

-I think I'm not quite well yet, come. - I stretch out his hand - Maybe a talk will make me feel better.

She smiled and took his hand, the god went to the room and sat on the bed, the muse took the tray of fruit and gave him a strawberry in his mouth.

-Tell me about yourself ... about how you ... life, with the Fae. - Ares asked.

He enjoyed being fed by the muse and her conversation where he kept reproaching the gods at all times. It had been a long time since he felt relaxed, happy. And for his part, he had not forgotten for a long time that he lived in captivity, but close to the god, he evoked the memories of his mother, his brothers, of his friends and he felt happy again.