The princess of Ares

7

The muse smirked when she saw him running for paper, ink, and pen. Maybe she couldn't fight with force, but she had her weapons.

Ares found the instruments he used to formulate his plans for battle and sat at the table... writing.

The muse stretched out on the couch with her eyes fixed on him. It was a while before the god realized what was happening.

He got up furious and threw the paper at him.

-Don't use your spells on me!

The muse laughed as she lifted the crumpled paper.

-They are not spells, it is an inspiration.

-So don't do it. I don't need to waste my time on stupid things. - The god denied as he went for a glass of ambrosia.

-But if the goddess Aphrodite would be more than happy to receive such beautiful words- I listen to the muse.

Ares turned to her and found her reading what he had just written. He tried to snatch it from her but she ran away from him.

- Like the hottest fire ... like a runaway ocean ... like a comet ...

At last, he managed to catch her by the waist and snatch the shameful manuscript from her. 

She fought for the paper but the god crumpled it up and threw it into the fire in the fireplace.

-Oh, because you did that, to be the first thing you write is pretty good.

-Don't make fun of me - the god released.

-I do not do it. - The muse gave a loud laugh and after a moment the god laughed too.

Never, not even in his worst nightmares, would he have seen himself writing sweet words for a woman.

- Are you making fun of it? - The god released, lifting her by the waist and turning around. The muse screamed and once on the ground she ran away from him, but the god reached her without problems.

-You are so sweet and cuddly. - Daria scoffed again.

-You're a harpy.

The muse opened her lips in an O, Ares knew that it had bothered her. So he laughed at her and picked her up off the ground again.

For a few minutes, the game was fun, but the muse stumbled and fell on the couch and he, holding her, fell on her. He looked at her pale pupils and was surprised that despite this, her eyes could carry so much fire in them.

-How do you know it was for her? Aphrodite...

-Guess. And ... "the most beautiful woman on Olympus" gave me a hint.

He nodded with a frown. He got up and poured a glass of ambrosia, downed it in one gulp, and turned to her again. Would it be wise to tell the muse about Aphrodite? He never talked about her with anyone, he just ignored her, hoping the past would be forgotten. Even now that he had returned to Olympus, he had not dared to appear before her for fear of ... falling back into its nets.

She couldn't let that happen, he would take revenge, on her and on all the gods who had humiliated him. He couldn't let old feelings come back.

-Don't mention this to anyone ever - he ordered annoyed by his thoughts.

-Don't worry, I have no interest in talking about ... your forbidden love - The muse released with a childish tone.

The god turned and left the room. The muse frowned. Suddenly something in his chest felt warm, warmer than usual. This heat was unlike any heat she had ever felt before, and for some reason, she felt upset, very upset, with Ares.

She went after him.

-Come on, don't tell me you've been sentimental? - she mocked. But this time there was acidity in his words.

-What do you want muse? - Ares released, reluctant to talk about the subject of the goddess of love.

-Give me something to occupy myself with or let me go back to Apollo. I hate being here.

-Why such a rush to get back to him? - The god released taking her wrist, hurt by her words - didn't you say that you preferred to be anywhere except locked up?

-It's not like I'm free here. There at least I can go out to the gardens, here, it is much worse, at your service, as if I were a simple nymph.

-So that's it? What bothers you is having to serve me? Would you rather be serving someone else? Adonis for example?

The muse closed her mouth and looked away.

Yes, Adonis. Those smiles at Apollo's party hadn't been his imagination. She and the stupid god had something. Without even understanding why the god wanted to bury his sword in Adonis's belly and leave him nailed to the ground for eternity.

The muse tried to walk away but the god squeezed her tighter. Not satisfied with holding her wrist, he held her by the waist, sticking her to his body.

-He will die- he whispered, looking into her eyes, approaching her face without being able to contain himself. A blazing fire ran through his veins as it did every time a battle approached. 

The muse saw the red glow in the god's eyes and fear showed in her own. Seeing him, the god immediately released her and turned.

-Prepare my bath.

-I'm not your maid. - She put in, although almost in a whisper.

-Do it! - I scream angrily. The muse without any remedy ran to the bathroom.

Once inside, Daria simply bathed the god without the slightest attention. Ares was annoyed to find the muse so far away and jumped out of the tub. So fast that the muse didn't have time to turn around or pretend not to look at him.

-Do I make you nervous muse? Are fairies not used to seeing a naked man? - he mocked. Daría got up, challenging him with her eyes.

-Nervous? For a great barbarian? Not that I haven't seen anything better before.

Ares smirked, the muse wanted to tease him again, but it had taken him a long time to calm down, he would not allow her to unhinge him again. The muse was more than nervous, she had even blushed. It seemed as cute to him as a lion cub trying to roar.

Daria tried to leave the room but Ares stopped her. I take her by the waist and pin her against the wall. The muse's nervousness turned to fury.

-Let me - hiss.

The god did not respond, he was enchanted with the girl's hair that turned as red as fire. His gray eyes were flashing with rage and his jaw was clenched.

-You look cute annoyed.

-Let go of me, you bloody barbarian.

The god moved even closer to her. Annoyed by his offenses.

-Nobody, except a simple muse tells me what to do. - I take her jaw with one hand and force her to look at him.

Their eyes met, hers looked menacing. Ares realized that he would do whatever it took to get rid of him. But would it be any man she would walk away from or just him?

-Why aren't you like the others? - He released more to himself.

-I am half-Fae, nobody will take me, nobody will force me to do what I don't want to do, even if I die fighting.

-But Apollo does it, he holds you captive against your will. The muse looked down at his huge bare chest.

-It doesn't. You are here because you want to - Ares understood.

-He ... has let me go ... yes ... if I wanted ... I could but ...

-But?

-But Zeus would notice, and he would pay.

-Are you here for Apollo? Why doesn't my father hurt him? Are you with Apollo? Is that why you refuse to come here ...?

-No- the muse released, her hair was a darker shade, the fury had subsided. - Apollo ... he understands that I ... need freedom. But he and I ... no ...

The fury in Ares's eyes faded. He looked at her again, her smooth white skin begging to be kissed, caressed, and revered. He raised his hand from her waist to her neck and chin, caressing her abdomen and breast, intoxicated by the sensations that the woman made him feel.

With both hands now on his face, he approached her slowly, his lips were pink and it was the same muse who finished bringing them together.

The kiss was slow and full of passion. Like an erupting volcano. Ares thought this sensation was similar to drinking ambrosia and Daria could feel the heat in her chest turn to intense fire and spread throughout her entire body.

When Ares walked away his thoughts were still clouded with pleasure.

The muse took a step back, still somewhat confused by what had just happened. Ares saw the doubt in her eyes and turned away from her.

-Don't worry muse, I won't do anything to you. It's not my style to take a woman who doesn't want it. - He blurted out thinking that if he did, he would be just like his father. 

The muse exhaled the air she had held and relaxed.

The god took a blanket and wrapped it around his waist.

Coming out of the bathroom he took the ambrosia straight from the bottle, trying to contain himself, not to be like his father. Not to be carried away by his momentum, not to be a barbarian.

The muse emerged from the bathroom a few moments later. He sat on the couch and didn't speak any more all night.

When the god turned, having been scribbling some pointless plan of attack, he realized that the muse had fallen asleep. He approached her slowly, without making a sound.

His face was so fine. His hair was lush, his hands were so small and delicate, his body was perfect, with curves where they should be and mountains that he could only imagine. All of it was ... art.

She wore a white dress with gold ornaments, hiding only what was necessary, revealing part of her beautiful, round, and firm breasts through the long neckline, her hips, wrapped in gold chains, and her legs, with each step she took those long and graceful legs, could be seen. It was nothing strange, all the goddesses and other women on Olympus dressed like that, but she ... somehow looked more sensual, more beautiful than the rest. The god frowned. Even more beautiful than her? He thought about it for a second. I compare them for a second.

Yes. He decided. She even looked more beautiful than Aphrodite. Although the goddess was all beautiful and sensual, the muse possessed the savagery of a fairy.

He remembered that when he was a child, it was not unusual to see a fairy from time to time. But he wasn't sure why, for some time now, the ugly beings had hidden in the woods so that no Olympians would see them again. Perhaps since Zeus ordered that satyrs, nymphs, and any creature that was not an Olympian serve them as slaves. 

The god made a face, it was not surprising that the muse feared them, and even hated them, the gods were a terrible evil for their people.

Once, when he was a child, he had seen a fairy when he had gone hunting. He remembered that ... he thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, she had wings ... and she shone. He saw the muse, she didn't emanate any shine except her hair and she had to be upset. She didn't have wings either, yet he preferred her.

I pick her up and place her on the bed. He covered her with the black silk sheets and admired her for a while longer. He did not know how much, the woman enthralled him so much that he did not feel time passing.

When at last sleep overcame him, he lay down next to her, hugged her waist, and slept until the sun rose to Apollo's hands again.