The Heart of War

by Lisa Beth Darling

  “Take it,” Ares muttered to her while sweat rolled down his cheeks and forehead, making his long hair stick to the sides of his head. “Don’t fight this, Alena. Take it. Open the door.” A few long agonizing moments later Alena’s heart began to glow a deep rich purple, the glow grew brighter as the doorway to her own Essence opened to receive the gift waiting for it. The red glow did not hesitate; it quickly worked its way deep under the sides of the wound Ares’ sword left on her and deep into her tired heart. “That’s it; take all you need, come back to me.” Ares’ Essence zipped inside of her in a great ball of glowing red mist, just before the glow coming from her shut down, a long strand of dark purple light serpentined its way out of her in a sultry, nearly hypnotizing dance. It floated up to Ares’ face and then glided along the skin as though a Lover were nuzzling against his beard. His Lover. His only Lover. Without thinking about or being able to help doing otherwise if he had, Ares breathed it in and found his mind and body filled with an entire field of honeysuckle under the expanse of blue sky on a bright summer day. It brought a sense of peace and bliss that Ares never knew existed. It was a place where he could live the rest of his days without War, without Battle and be joyous. “I love you.” Lying there on the table before him, Ares could have sworn he saw Alena smile.

  In a flash, the light and the pain were gone. When Hera removed her hands from them both of their chests were hale and whole with no signs of damage. Alena’s face was beautiful and unmarred once more. “You did it,” Ares exclaimed. “Mother, you did it.” He dropped to his knees next to Alena and held her hand to his sweaty cheek.

  “You did it, I helped.” Hera corrected.

  “Humph,” Zeus let out a groan. “Gods help us all,” he said in a stern Fatherly tone before he turned his back on the scene and walked off.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Waking Up On Olympus

  Hera’s Magick was strong and her Power was great but it still took 48 hours before Alena’s eyes began to flutter open. During that time, Ares moved her into his old home here on Olympus only to find the place covered in 200 years worth of dust. It would not do to have her wake up here, for the very first time, to a mess like this. Using his own Magick Ares rid their new home of the unwanted dust and debris, he put clean sheets and fresh blankets on the marble bed, replacing the Mammoth hide that had covered it most of his life. Alena liked things that were soft and clean and smelled nice. Ares didn’t see the necessity in them but if she liked them then she would have them and anything else she desired.

  Now with his work done and nothing left to do but wait, he climbed into the bed with her and held her close just to revel in the soft pattern of her breathing and the steady beating of her heart.

  Ares’ heart called Alena back to consciousness. She woke with it booming quietly in her ear and the warmth of his strong arms wrapped around her. She was tired and sore, she did not have to look up to know whom she was with. “Hi,” Alena whispered through her parched throat.

  Above her Ares closed his eyes for a moment and silently thanked the Heavens for returning her to his side. “Hello,” he whispered in return. “I missed you.” In his arms she tried to sit up but he flexed those biceps and kept her in place. “Where are you going?”

  Alena ran her dry tongue over the even drier roof of her mouth and frowned. “Thirsty,” she muttered and raised a weak hand to her throat. “What…happened?”

  In Ares’ hand appeared a fine chalice made of gold and decorated with rubies. Sitting her up partway, Ares held it to her lips. “Drink.”

  Alena was only too happy to comply and ease her aching throat. The drink was warm, slightly thick and tasted like peaches. It clung to her parched mouth and throat coating it in a loving wet embrace. “What is it?” she asked when he pulled the cup away.

  “Nectar,” Ares replied. “More?”

  Nectar? Ares never shared his Nectar with the Mortals on his island. “Yes.” Feeling strong enough to hold the chalice she took it from him and finished the remainder of the drink. “Why?” she asked as she handed it back to him and watched him put it down on a side table she did not recognize. It was then that she began to look around at her surroundings. “Is this…a…museum?” she asked in sheer confusion. It looked like a museum dedicated to the art of war, so many weapons, so shiny and polished put out on display. The room, masculine but opulent, was bigger than the entire first floor of Ares’ cave. The walls were ten feet tall if they were an inch and they were black marble that had streaks of gold running through it. The fireplace here made all of those back on the island look like a campfire pit. It was made of a deep blue marble that she’d never seen before, it was engraved with horses and chariots and warriors riding into battle with swords held high. The fire within burned high and hot but there was no wood in the hearth, no coals, no ash, just flame.

  “We’re on Olympus. This is…our home now.” Ares pulled her in close again just to feel her next to him. “It’s a little…bigger…than the last place we lived,” he said easily. “I left a lot of things behind when I moved. When you’re feeling stronger, I will show you around.” Ares home here on Olympus was roughly three times the size of his cave on the island. It was regal, it was grand, and everything an Olympian should have and could want. Ares hated it. “You can do whatever you like with it,” he offered, hoping that would ease the crease forming on her brow. “I heard women love to redecorate and this place could use a woman’s touch. Too many sharp objects.”

  “We’re not going home?”

  “This is home.” Ares went on to explain what happened and why they would not be returning to the island to live. “I had no other choice, Alena. My Mother can be very persuasive when she wants. Forgive me?”

  “Of course.” However, the prospect of living here with Ares’ Family was altogether unappealing. “I am Immortal now? That’s why you’ve given me the Nectar?”

  Ares wasn’t sure what to say. “I believe you are, but Time will tell. What matters is that you are still here with me.”

  A terrible thought hit her. “Are you still Immortal? Still an Olympian?” What if he’d given that up for her?

  “Yes,” Ares said with an easy smile. “Such things are only in movies, Alena. I can’t give that up even if I wanted to.” He held her a little closer and kissed the top of her head, flattered that she was so concerned for him. “Don’t worry about a thing; everything is exactly as it should be.”

  She didn’t feel any different or more powerful than she did before. Her hand went to her stomach. “Our son? Is he…normal? Is he…diseased? A monster? Would you tell me if the answer would break my heart?” Alena took Ares hand and put it on her womb. “What do you feel? What do you know? Tell me.”

  “He’s fine,” Ares assured her quickly. “He is strong. He is healthy.” No matter what Zeus and obviously Cernunnos said there was nothing wrong with their son. “He is not diseased. He is not a monster,” Ares asserted. Whatever happened between Cernunnos and Zeus it might have been long and ugly. That was the only conclusion Ares could come to as he’d sat here waiting for her to wake up. None of the other Olympians despised the Celts the way Zeus did. True the Olympians thought the Celts to be below them but they thought that about everyone. Zeus had a raging hard-on for them that just wouldn’t quit. It seemed Cernunnos returned the feeling in kind. They were both of the same opinion that this child was somehow cursed; it was a demon that would wreak havoc on the world. “As for normal, if you’re asking if he’s going to be a regular old Mortal Man, the answer is no. But there is nothing wrong with him. I would not lie to you about this or anything else.”

  That was one step toward easing the fears running around in her mind. She looked up at him. “Alena?”

  Ares didn’t answer at first; he was just as confused as she looked, thinking perhaps she wasn’t fully recovered yet. “Ares,” he said and pointed to himself. “Remember?”

  “Yes, I know that. Alena. The first Alena.”

 
Ares mouthed the words as he tried to think. First Alena? Then he found the long ago memory. “Poseidon’s Daughter? What about her?” He did not like the way she was staring back at him with such suspicion. “What did Cernunnos tell you? What did he say?” It seemed the Great Horned One had done his damndest to drive a wedge between them. He probably told her these things as he tried to break her; despicable.

  “That you were in love with her. That you’re only using me as a substitute for her, that’s why you don’t call me Maggie.”

  “You believe that?”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “Then don’t,” Ares offered. “It isn’t true. I haven’t thought of her in millennia or more, not until this very moment. She was very young and impressionable,” he offered easily as he leaned his head in a little closer to hers. “Can you believe she actually thought I was attractive?” Hoping to make her smile, Ares made his pecs jump as he flexed them for her. “Hmmm? Me.” Then she did smile and so did he. Then she began to titter. It was so good to tease here again this way and watch the color light up her face as her laughter filled this empty old bedroom.

  “Now, why would anyone ever think anything like that?” Alena mocked and reached out to lay her hand on his chest. “I can’t imagine it.”

  “Neither could I,” Ares mocked but then his tone turned more serious. “It was a lifetime ago. She has nothing to do with us. I don’t call you Alena to remind me of her. Alena was young. She was beautiful and willing. She never touched my heart. You’re the only woman who will ever be able to claim that and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  “You still want me? After all that’s happened? You still desire me?”

  Ares ran his hand along the side of her face. “I will always desire you. No matter what happens, you will always be my Woman, my Queen. Nothing anyone does can touch that or change it.”

  Alena had been so sure that Ares would never look at her the same way again, not after Cernunnos. Those fears were unfounded; she wrapped her arms around Ares’ neck. “I love you,” she whispered in his ear. “With all my heart, I love you.”

  “And I you.” The God of War took her up in his arms, buried his face in the nape of her neck and thick strands of silken gray hair only to have the blissful scent of honeysuckle greet and fill him. “I love you, Magdalena. More than you will ever know. I am nothing without you but an empty shell.” Against the side of his cheek, he felt her nod.

  “I know. I didn’t know I was so empty until I met you and you filled all of those places for me.” The island. Paris. Quebec. London. Olympus. What did it matter? “Though I never dreamed that I would live on Olympus, any place you are is my home.”

  “Our home.” Kissing her cheek, Ares pushed her away slightly so he could reach around her neck and remove the necklace. He had made a promise to be a good loving Husband and he intended to make good on that. He was not sure how to do that but he was willing to try and he was altogether unsure of how to do what came next having never tried. Ares found his heart beating away like a runaway freight train. “You are free from Cernunnos now, he’s dead, he’ll never bother you again. No one will ever hurt you again, I swear it. That includes me,” he said as it dropped away from her and into the palm of his hand. “You make my whole world a better place, my Love; I would consider it a great honor if you would allow me to be your Husband.” The necklace in Ares’ hand, the one she had worn so long vanished and another appeared in its place. It had multiple strands of rubies and diamonds so large they looked like quarters. In the center of it was a willow tree, Alena didn’t know where he’d found the medallion which was devoid of Cernunnos’ symbol but it was the most perfect touch she could imagine. It was his way of telling her that she was still free to be who she was even when she became his Wife. No more prisons, real or imagined. “It’s so beautiful.”

  “It’s nothing in comparison to you; it’s just a bunch of meaningless rocks.”

  Yes, they were just a bunch of meaningless rocks that, on the black market, could bring a place such as Ceres Agar out of poverty for decades. The glittering jewels captivated her stare and it wasn’t until she heard Ares clear his throat that she realized she had forgotten to answer him. Alena turned to look at him and Ares was staring back at her with a very worried expression: a little boy who’s just dropped his ice cream cone on the ground. “Yes, oh yes, I’ll marry you.”

  A smile broke out on Ares’ face that lit up the entire room. His eyes glistened and sparkled at her. “You’ll never regret it, I promise.” Ares went to put the necklace around her neck but she stopped him. “What?”

  “Don’t we need a ceremony or something?”

  Ares’ head bobbed around on his shoulders as he mulled it over. “Technically, I don’t think we get anymore bonded than we already are. You are part of me now and I am part of you, there’s no changing this. From now on, whenever you need me, all you have to do is whisper my name. Wherever I am I will hear you, no matter the distance between us, and I will come.”

  That sounded wonderful, she liked every part of that except for possibly one. “Are you telling me I slept through my own wedding?”

  “It was beautiful, by the way. You would have loved it. Very colorful.”

  “I’m sorry I missed all of the excitement.”

  “You were the center of it,” Ares corrected.

  “Perhaps I was but, if you don’t mind, I would have liked to be awake if it was also our wedding.” Alena’s voice trailed off a little sadly.

  “Picky, aren’t you?” Ares teased again and held on to her hand. “If nothing else, we are married simply because we say we are. But if you want a ceremony that’s fine with me.” Olympians were not big on Ceremony and Rituals and Rites though they were good at all and appreciated it whenever the Mortals conducted the same in Their Names. These were still Mortal concepts and ideals. They were not things the Olympians necessarily did for themselves. Other than Rites and Ceremonies of Passage and Birth, everything in between simply…was. When it came to marriage, each of them took a spouse and announced the relationship. That was it. No one gave it a blessing or said a bunch of words.

  Alena was surprised and a bit taken aback. “You don’t want a big Greek wedding? Breaking plates and ouzo and people shouting out ‘umpa’?” Her brow began to crease.

  “Though I admit I have absorbed much of the culture, again, technically…I am not Greek.”

  “What are you?”

  Ares ran his hand across her cheek and then through her hair as his head bobbed up and down his shoulders in thought. “An Olympian.”

  She wanted to ask just exactly what that meant and where he really came from but then discovered it didn’t matter. The only thing that did matter was that they were together. Ares was right; they were married simply because they said they were married. What was a marriage ceremony anyway? Nothing more than two people making a verbal agreement. “Maybe something small. You and me on our beach at sunset, that’s all I want.”

  “Perfect. Tomorrow is not soon enough for me but I will wait for you.”

  “Oh, well now, would you look at that?” Alena asked as she pretended to open an invisible book in her hands. “My calendar seems to be free tomorrow, right around sunset.”

  “Excellent.”

  Suddenly Alena realized she was ravenous and still thirsty. “Anything else to eat or drink?”

  “On Olympus, you have only to say aloud what you would like and it will come to you.”

  “You’re pulling my leg,” Alena accused.

  “Go ahead,” Ares invited.

  “You can’t help. You can’t do anything,” she said as those gray eyes narrowed on him. Ares sat back in the bed and folded his arms over his chest as he waited. Alena looked around the bedroom room, seeing they were still alone and feeling a bit foolish. “I’d like a Coke, please. Cold with ice…please,” she added quickly.

  Anything in the world she wanted and Alena asked for a Coke. He liked a low-maintena
nce woman. “You’re so polite,” he complimented.

  On the table next to her with its warmly burning oil lamp, out of thin air appeared a tall glass of icy cold Coca-Cola. Wasn’t that just the Coolest Trick in the World? Alena picked it up with much anticipation and disbelief, brought it to her lips, and drank down of the sweet goodness. Her throat worked and worked until the glass was half-empty and then it worked some more. “Ahhhhhh.” She let out a satisfied sigh as held the glass close to her breasts and closed her eyes. “Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I had one of these? They do not export to Ceres Agar.” The last time she’d had a Coke she was, “At Fenway Park watching the Red Sox play the Yankees,” she whispered and then opened her eyes as the memory wandered through her mind. She had a hot dog with mustard, onions, and relish, a salted pretzel, a bag of peanuts, and two large Coca-Cola’s that day.

  “The who did what?” Ares asked in confusion. “What’s a Fenway Park?”

  “Maybe, one day soon, while you’re fulfilling your promise to show me this world,” Alena reached for his hand. “I can show you mine.”

  Ares was still confused though the idea seemed to make Alena very happy; he could see that from the sudden rush of color in her cheeks and the sparkle in her eyes. “I saw no park at the camp,” he muttered, wondering how he would have missed such a thing if it had been there. Not to mention the camp was no longer. “Why would you want to go there?”