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"Such an unruly girl. Truly barbaric." It was the same kind of rhetoric Ares always heard, growing up. But now, something else grated on her. The words made Ares feel uncomfortable in her own skin. Besides, women weren't usually allowed in battle, and that had always been her dearest wish — to see the warriors fall, to watch them get run through with a sword, blood and gore escaping through the wounds, frothy blood from punctured lungs…
Ares wanted to see it all. The thought of it excited her, made her eager for more. She was told she had a barbaric bloodlust instilled in her, and all her life, her parents had tried to make her more civilized, as a lady of her stature ought to be. Not wild, like her half-sister Artemis, though Ares knew even that would be more preferable to the way she was now.
She should have been born a boy. A man would be welcome in war, his desire for blood and battle at least more natural, if not just as 'barbaric' as Zeus and Hera thought.
Ares screamed as she shoved her blade through the unfortunate mortal's throat. Allowed on the battlefield or not, she was here, determined to see what she knew was her own domain through to the end. Ares was War. This was where she belonged.
Wiping blood and gore off her face, she looked around as the battle died down. The last words of the unfortunate mortal laying below her had grated on Ares in ways she couldn't quite identify.
If she was going to be on the battlefield, she'd be better off dressed as a boy. No more cheeky comments that reminded Ares of her parents chastising her. Maybe it was something she couldn't avoid on Olympus, but among the mortals it wasn't something she had to tolerate.
A pair of hands grabbed her from behind. "Such a pretty girl, all alone on the battlefield. Why don't I take you with me?"
Ares saw red. With inhuman strength, she threw the man away from her. "Say that to me again, I dare you. I'll rip your throat out with my bare teeth and make you choke on your own blood."
"M—monster…"
War was a monster. Not a girl. It wasn't right… but it was better, somehow. More fitting than the skin she wore.
For years, Ares stayed in Thrace, avoiding Olympus as much as she could. In that time, she shaved her hair at the sides, leaving enough to get bloodstained and hide half of her feminine features. She spread war paint over her eyes and around her head, distracting from too-plump cheeks and a soft, rounded jaw. Her daily exercises gave her muscle and definition, and she hid her breasts with binding strips and armor.
The soldiers called her a boy, hardly old enough for war. But they didn't reject her. And for once, Ares felt like she was comfortable in her own skin when they did so. If only she didn't have to go through all the trouble of hiding her feminine features, she would be truly happy.
It wasn't until Ares went against Athena in battle that she realized.
Athena was a goddess of wartime strategy. She defended herself behind shields while provoking an attack, so those around her could surround the enemy. It was a strategy that Ares knew well enough, though she thought it would be the mortals that Athena provoked.
"Look at you, dressed like a boy. I can't understand how such a pretty girl can stand to parade around as a man."
It was Ares herself that Athena was provoking. And that was when something shifted. Ares had stopped thinking of herself as a girl, most of the time, save for when she undressed and bathed. She was a soldier. A boy — no, at her age, she was a man. Ares wasn't just masquerading as a man… he was one.
Launching himself into the center of her trap, heedless of the consequences, Ares bashed his blade against her shield, teeth bared in a feral snarl. "Call me that again, and I'll rip out your heart and piss on it. I'm not a girl, I'm not a woman. I am War, and I am like every other man that fights it."
It took an entire army aided by Athena's blessings — and the goddess herself — to bring Ares to his knees. He snarled, face a muddy, bloodied mess with war paint smeared halfway off. Above, Athena regarded him carefully.
"I see how it is. For being War, you're quite careless, Ares. But what else should I expect from such a savage beast? You've lost this war, brother."
Brother. Athena was calling Ares her brother. For all that they never got along, she was… she was treating Ares with the respect of calling him what he really was.
"I may have lost this war, sister, but I've won something far greater." Ares bared his teeth, stained with the blood of those he'd bitten in his battle-frenzy.
For a few moments, Athena looked at him, then smiled. "I suppose you have. Do not think this means I will show mercy on you, this time or the next."
Ares laughed, a manic sound that made the mortals standing guard over him back away. "You know me, sister. I wouldn't have it any other way."