“Not the camp. Boston,” Alena said a bit indignantly. “I had a life you know, for a while it was a very good life, before…all of…this.” She waved her hand in the air at her surroundings. “The Red Sox are a baseball team; Fenway Park is where they play when they’re at home…in Boston. That’s in Massachusetts which is in…”
“The United States of America. I told you before; I don’t need a geography lesson,” he scoffed. “Do they have…popcorn there? At Fenway Park.”
“Yes, and hot dogs and beer, and pretzels, and Coke, and peanuts, and funny little hats.” A strange thought crossed her mind, it made her drop her eyes down his torso, and then back up again as she bit down on her bottom lip and her eyebrow raised on her forehead.
“What? What are you looking at?”
“They sell uniforms, too,” she said dreamily. “I’d think you’d look really good in one. I’m not sure they come in your size but…I could alter it for you.”
“Could you?” Ares looked down at himself, the bottom half of him clad in his ever-present black leather while his chest was bare and then he looked up at her over the top of his eyes. “Well then we’ll just have to go to Boston and get one.” He took the hand still holding on to his and brought to his mouth to brush is lips over it. “It’s getting late. You should rest now. We have a big day tomorrow.” Not to mention the fact that the way she was staring at him was making him horny and Ares had it in his mind to wait until after their wedding to make love with her again. His wait could be long, Alena might not be ready to come to him for some weeks or months to come, not after what Cernunnos had done. Not to mention what Ares himself had done prior. That wound was still awaiting healing. Waiting was not Ares’ strong suit especially when it came to sex but he had the sneaking suspicion that it would be worth it.
From where he was on the other side of the bed Ares blew a puff of air out of his cheeks, no more than what might be needed to extinguish a nearby birthday candle. The oil lamp on Alena’s side of the bed went out and the fire in the hearth died down as he brought the blanket around her.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Where The Past Meets The Present
1
The Wedding of the God of War and his Little Fey turned out to be a less intimate occasion than they had originally planned. Keeping such a thing—or anything at all—secret on Olympus was nearly impossible. In the morning Ares went to his mother, Hera, and told her what was about to happen. He first swore her to secrecy and then swore to her that he would return to Olympus with Alena in a reasonable period of time. After a slightly extended honeymoon. Hera could hardly contain herself at the news; while she stopped short of actually saying she was sworn to silence, she did put her hand over her mouth and nod her agreement. Ares deserved this chance at happiness; if Zeus knew of it then he might try to ruin it. Eros and Apollo were also on the list of Likely Suspects with Aphrodite at the bottom.
This left Athena, Poseidon, Hades, the Nymphs, Cerci, Morpheus, and the Faeries.
Hera felt that at least a small gathering of people should be there to witness the end of Ares’ exceedingly long-held bachelorhood. Before she went to spread the word, she sent her own servants Calliope and Clio (Muse of Epic Poetry and History, respectively) to Ares’ island and instructed them to make a bountiful feast, to create beautiful decorations and gather flowers and herbs for the momentous occasion. The Great Mother did not want to intrude upon what was desired to be a very personal ceremony, but she did think it worthy of celebrating. It was late in the day when she went to each of those still on Olympus, save Zeus, and informed of them of what was about to happen. She told each they were not to interfere; she would look very unfavorably upon anyone who attempted to spoil the occasion. However, if they in their hearts wanted to wish the newly married couple well then they should attend.
Nearing sundown, Ares found Alena nervously pacing around in his throne room. She was muttering to herself and wringing her hands in between puffs of breath. She had been struck with morning sickness most of the day and spent her the hours since dawn either in bed or over the toilet retching. “You want to put this off? This is too much pressure for you.”
No, she most definitely did not want to postpone their wedding. That was the one solid conclusion she’d come to as she anxiously paced about the room for the last hour. She wanted to marry Ares. She wanted to be his Wife and have his Children. She wanted a life with him. When she was not in bed or hunched over the toilet today she had been able to try out the Ask And Ye Shall Receive aspect of Olympus. Ares once told her that in a few years she would not marvel at the things he did any longer, they would become old hat to her. She didn’t think so; neither did she think that she would become accustomed to asking for something and having it simply appear in front of her. It was like living on the Starship Enterprise and having the Replicator make you whatever you desired. It felt odd, unreal.
Yet there were a few small items Alena wanted to have on this day-of-days were it possible and Olympus presented them to her simply because she had asked for them. Every woman dreams of her wedding day; although Alena’s life had been long and some of it painful, she was no different in that respect. Always had she held out the small hope that she would find True Love one day and marry a wonderful man.
Today was that day.
There was so much more to consider than their happiness. “They hate me,” she confessed quietly.
Ares let out a snort. “They hate me, too.” He walked over to her and took her hands in his to keep her still and stop the endless walking; four steps to the right, quick turn, four steps to the left, repeat. “So what?”
“They think I’m not good enough for you.” Alena held tighter to his hands and looked up at him. “I’m not, you know.”
“It is I who is not worthy of you and your kind and brave heart.” He brought her hands to his lips and kissed them before holding them to his cheek. The motion forced Alena to stand up on her tiptoes to comply with is sweetness. “Forget them. We are all that matters here. Besides, I think my Mother rather favors you and in her you have a most powerful ally.”
Hera did seem to take a shine to her and Alena liked Great Mother. “Yes, you’re right. Why are you always right?”
Again, Ares snorted and then chuckled. “I’m not. Often. But not always.” He looked toward the windows here in his home. “The sun is starting its descent. Is your calendar still free?”
A wave of peacefulness washed over her and made her heart slow yet beat harder at the same time. “Yes. Still free. Still yours if you want me.”
Ares looped her arm through his and made a warm fur coat appear around her. “Let’s go.”
“Oh, wait,” she stammered. “Can…can I…do it?”
Standing there, Ares considered the question; could Alena, now that her Powers were discovered and beginning to grow, teleport herself from place to place? “I don’t know,” he admitted finally. “But let’s wait a while, hmmm? What’s the rush? I like taking you around.”
Alena looked back over her shoulder. “Me too, it’s just that, well, there are a few things I wanted to bring and…”
“Get them,” Ares invited and let go of her arm.
Alena stood there shifting from one foot to the other and looking back at the table behind her. On it was the usual items: flatware, utensils, fruits, and a hump of fur under which were the things Alena Asked For and Received earlier in the day. “You’ll think it’s silly but…I don’t want you to see them. It’s bad luck,” she admitted.
“Bad luck?” Ares intoned as he looked in the direction of her stare. “Well, I think we’ve had enough of that.” He pointed over to the lump on the table. “Go and get whatever it is. I promise I won’t look.”
“All right.” She scampered over to the table, wrapped her package up tight so that Ares could not make out the contents and then followed him to the Gates of Olympus. “It’s so cold here. Does it ever get warm?”
“No,” Ares said alm
ost sadly. “You won’t find any green, either; we are far above the timberline. Nothing but biting winds and cold snow all year long.”
If that was the case, Alena really didn’t understand why the Olympians lived here when there were so many more pleasant places on Earth. Standing at the massive glowing wrought iron gates that guarded the entrance to Olympus, Ares turned to her. “Once this place was beautiful. It thrived with life, flowers, trees, and animals, all you could desire. That time is long gone. This is all that remains, this silence and this ice.” He pushed the doors open wide and they stepped through to a strange place where they seemed to stand on nothing at all. All around was black and empty.
“What happened?” Alena asked as the Gates closed behind them.
“The same as happened to Cernunnos and the Others; people stopped believing,” Ares replied. “After that, my Family allowed themselves to be left behind by this world.”
Alena felt his arm wrap around her shoulder, she switched her package to the other hand and slipped her arm around his waist. The feeling of being turned into a rubber band came to her as they made the trip from the top of the mountain to Ares’ island far below. Instinctively, upon arrival, Alena turned her face upward toward the setting sun and let it warm her as she wiggled her toes in the sand and took in the crashing of the ocean waves. It was better here than on Olympus. She didn’t understand why the Olympians didn’t find themselves each an island where they could live happily and warmly for the rest of their days.
“It seems we’re expected.”
Alena looked back toward the cliffs. “Oh my!” she exclaimed as she took in the sight of long tables of food and drink, chairs with big soft cushions of red and purple, and flowers everywhere in bouquets, wreaths, and garlands. “You told them.”
“Just my Mother, who obviously cannot keep a secret,” Ares mused. “Go on inside and get ready.”
Alena balked again. “Oh, no, you go, I’ll catch up in a little bit. I’m going to use my…my old room. You use the bedroom.”
“What are you up to?” Ares asked as his eyes narrowed on her. “This part of your little secret satchel there?”
“Go on. Shoo.”
Ares kissed her cheek before he walked away, wondering what she was doing and what was in store for him when he returned. Alena watched him go across the beach, stop to sample the foods offered to unknown guests, and then made his way up the stairs in the cliff face. She kept waiting even when Ares thought he was safe from her view high up on the cliff top near the entrance to the cave. However, Alena stood her ground, waved to him, and then tittered when she watched him turn his back and go inside.
2
Ares stood on the beach impatiently awaiting the entrance of his bride with some of his Family members gathered around him. To his surprise, only Zeus and Apollo decided to sit out the wedding. All of the rest of his Family attended along with Daphne, her Nymphs, and the Faeries decided to come and witness the ceremony before they returned to their lands.
Standing in the sand in bare feet, Ares watched as the sun sunk lower in the sky filling it with brilliant reds, oranges and purples as far as the eye could see. Next to him was a small table upon which sat a long strand of white silk and a silver chalice full of what smelled like mead. It took the God of War quite a while to decide what he was going to wear to his own wedding. Should he go modern with one of the suits or even one of the tuxedos he owned. Should he go more traditional and wear his dress armor. Looking at the items on the table and his surroundings Ares decided he was happy with his choice of attire.
Suddenly, quiet string music began to fill the coming night air. Terpsichore, Muse of Dance, had begun plucking her lyre and everyone’s eyes turned in her direction. Ares felt his breath hitch in his chest as his heart stopped when Alena came into his view. Barefoot as usual, she was standing several yards away from him dressed in an emerald toga that dragged the ground behind her. It was embroidered with gold stitching in the patterns of doves, roses with thorns and without, and staffs. A wreath of olive leaves sat upon her head dotted with red roses, her beautiful silver-gray hair piled high atop her head and hanging down in soft ringlets about her face. In her hands she held a simple bouquet of white roses. She smiled shyly as she made her way to him. Ares felt his eyes light up just as the breath returned to his lungs and the color rushed into his cheeks.
All eyes were upon her and Alena felt the weight of each stare as she walked past them and up to the handsome man waiting for her. “I hope this is all right,” she whispered to Ares as she took her place.
“You honor me,” Ares returned, taking in the dress and feeling a surge of pride.
“No more than you do me,” Alena whispered, taking in the way Ares was dressed. “It’s a new color for you, isn’t it?” Ares cast aside his armor and his embattlements for the day along with his customary black leather. As the sunset behind him, he stood there with his own bare feet, a rather form-fitting pair of white linen pants and a matching shirt.
“You don’t like it?” Oh well, she did not say that. The contrast of the white materials against his dark olive skin was very appealing. Much like the exotic sight of his hands on her bare skin. Out of instinct or desire she had no idea, but Alena suddenly rose up on her tiptoes to kiss him. Ares held up his hand to block her. “Uh-uh, you have to wait.”
Then she didn’t want to wait long. Putting the bouquet of roses down on the table, Alena picked up the strand of white silk and began to loop one end around Ares’ wrist. “Who are you? What is your name?”
“I am Ares. Son of Hera and Zeus,” he announced in a booming voice. While he’d never been married, Ares had been to a few thousand weddings in his time and he was certain of what was about to happen and of the type of ceremony which would satisfy Alena.
“Why do you come here, Ares?” she asked, looping the silk around for the second time.
“To marry this woman.”
“How do you come here, Ares?”
“Of my own free will and with love in my heart.”
The looping done, Alena waited for Ares to pick up the other end of the string and repeat the same to her. “Who are you? What is your name?” Ares asked as he began winding the silk around her small wrist.
“I am Magdalena. Daughter of Maven and Norman.”
“Why do you come here, Magdalena?”
“To marry this man…this God…this Olympian, whom I love.”
“How do come here, Magdalena?”
“Of own my freewill and with love in my heart.”
Standing a few feet away from them, Hera was so happy she began to cry. Aphrodite leaned against Eros’ shoulder and he put his arm around her waist as they watched Ares confess his love for Alena. Onya and the other women wept quietly with happiness. Ares approached them before the ceremony and told them they had a choice; they could go to Olympus to live with him and Alena, they could stay here on the island and live out their days where he would provide for them and he and Alena were sure to spend extended visits, or he could set them free. He would take them wherever they wanted to go and give them each more than enough money to live comfortable lives in return for the promise of their everlasting silence. Three opted to leave and three opted to live on Olympus: Onya, Arianna, and Iris. Ares considered it a fair deal and liked the idea of Alena having women around her who cared for her, who would support her and be her confidantes. Life on Olympus was not going to be easy but their company would help.
With his future secured and now within the palm of his large hand, in a very clear and resounding voice Ares vowed to never harm her but, instead, to always protect her, to love her, hold her sacred, to comfort her when she was afraid, to celebrate the joys of life with her, and never let anyone come between them. “These are the things I swear to you.” Unwrapping the silk around her wrist and taking the necklace out of his pocket, he held it up and she leaned forward to receive it as he clasped it around her neck, then Alena made the same promises to him before unb
inding Ares’ wrist.
Now they would each drink from the cup and they would be married, but when Ares reached for it Alena put her hand over it to stop him and picked up her flowers. Holding the bouquet with one hand she worked at the stems with the other until something slipped off them and the flowers spread apart. With much uncertainty, she held out her father’s ring to him. “Would you consider wearing this, my Husband? Would you let it always remind you of how my love surrounds you, no matter where you are…or what you do?”
Alena was being very diplomatic about this, but the truth was, she wanted to mark her man. Wanted him to wear a symbol that would let all other women know that he was taken and to keep their hands off him. She was afraid it would insult or anger him, which was why she was so coy about it, but even that only served to fill Ares with more pride as he held his hand out to her and slipped the tip of his finger into the ring, allowing her to slide it the rest of the way down his finger. “You honor me again. I’ll never take it off.” He looked down at the chalice. “Now?”
“Now.”
Ares picked it up with his unbound hand and took a drink from the sweet mead within before he handed it to Alena, who also took a long drink and then handed it back. The God of War pitched the silver chalice over his shoulder as he stooped down and swooped Alena up in his arms to plant a long kiss on her lips just as the last rays of day fell beyond the horizon. In a moment of great joy, the God of War lifted his new bride high into the air to seat her upon his shoulder. “My Wife, My Queen,” he announced to all gathered around. “No one is above her.”
All around began to clap but it wasn’t applause. Soon a beat formed and Ares began to dance with Alena on his shoulder. With his hands up, he held them to his shoulder and grasped each of Alena’s hands, holding them out wide. He crossed one foot in front of the other and made an arch in the sand with his toes before doing the same with the other foot, each time bending deeply on one knee. He turned around slowly and did again; a resounding chorus of “umpah!” received them.
The Heart of War Page 58