Chapter Text
The inside of Hephaestus' forge was always sweltering, like a sauna. Sharp iron and burning metal hung in the air, overpowering the sound of a hammer's repeated pounding. It was a place few of the gods wanted to stay in long because of the heat and noise, neither of which seemed to bother Hephaestus himself.
Ares was one of the few that the sounds and sights of a forge didn't bother; after all, forges were necessary to craft instruments of war.
Hephaestus was engrossed in forging some sort of double bladed ax, inlaying shallow channels cut into the metal with Athenian gold. An automaton held the weapon's handle steady as the blacksmith worked.
Ares watched Hephaestus, hands clasped behind his back. He and Hephaestus had a congenial relationship despite the fact that Hephaestus had nearly struck the god of war with his hammer after finding out about his wife's relationship with Ares.
Ares respected Hephaestus a lot. He was good at his craft, in both weapon making and creating fantastical automatons, and strong despite his disability. Hephaestus and Ares had a kinship, especially when it came to weapons. Ares knew his weapons and which would cause the most pain or let the most the blood.
To others, Hephaestus may not have looked like much, but Aphrodite had fallen for him for a reason and Ares could see why. He was good with his hands, prideful of his work, and he could be quite handsome when covered in a faint sheen of sweat, topknot loose with strands of hair falling in his face. Ares wondered if Hephaestus' hands were rough from all the metal working and how they'd feel around--
"Are ya just goin' to stand there gawking all day or are ya goin' to tell me what ya want?"
Oh, Ares had been staring long enough to get Hephaestus' attention. Hopefully, Hephaestus didn't question it too much.
"I was just wondering if you'd seen Aphrodite today. She sent me a message, but it didn't say where she'd be."
"Not in her room?" Hephaestus asked, holding out his hand.
The automaton set the ax's handle in the blacksmith's open palm without delay.
Ares shook his head, watching Hephaestus look the ax over, checking whether its weight was balanced and staff was straight. "I checked all her usual haunts."
"Hm." Rotating the ax in his hand, Hephaestus seemed to consider other areas Aphrodite was likely to be in that Ares wasn't aware of. "Perhaps your room?"
His room? Ares hadn't considered that since Aphrodite hadn't seemed interested at all in being around all his weapons. He also kept his room darker than the other gods; Apollo's light was sometimes too bright for his liking.
"Or young Hermes was playing a trick on you."
No. Aphrodite's writing had a certain flair to it that Hermes hadn't mastered.
"I'll check my room," Ares muttered, turning to leave. "Thanks for the help."
Hephaestus grunted in return, setting the ax the workbench. With a gesture from Hephaestus, the automaton flipped the blade over to reveal full polished silver, ready to be inlaid with gold.
"And," Ares turned back to Hephaestus, "that ax looks good."
Hephaestus raised an eyebrow as Ares departed. The war god never complimented his work unless it was a weapon he had tested out. The compliment would also not come without constructive criticism, which Hephaestus gladly took. Ares was one of the few gods who wouldn't give his work glowing praise.
The automaton stared at Hephaestus intently, as if sensing something he couldn't. The blank stare got on his nerves.
"Get back to work, ya bucket of bolts!"
As Hephaestus said, Aphrodite was indeed in Ares' room. It was strange to see her there, beauty surrounded by a myriad of bloody weapons.
Aphrodite lounged on his bed, idly prodding a spear tip with her finger. Her long pink hair draped down her naked body tastefully. She gasped when she saw Ares enter the room and tossed the spear to the side.
"Ares, darling, there you are!" Aphrodite bounced off the bed and skipped over to him. "I waited forever for you! I thought you'd never come!"
"You could have said you wanted to meet in my room," Ares grumbled as Aphrodite threw her arms around his shoulders. It was a bit difficult to sound like a petulant child when Aphrodite was kissing his cheek. "I traveled half of Olympus searching for you."
"Did I forget to mention where to meet?" Aphrodite pulled back, pouting for a second before grabbing Ares' hand and pulling him towards the bed. "Come on, I'm sure you're tired after all that running around."
For a second, Ares wondered if Aphrodite knew he'd ask Hephaestus for help locating her and for a second, he almost wanted to ask. Then that notion was gone, replaced by a desire to ravage Aphrodite as she so desired.
Aphrodite fell back onto the bed when her legs hit the edge, hands still clasped around the back of Ares' neck to pull him down with her.
Unable to resist her natural charm, Ares straddled Aphrodite, leaning down to kiss the side of her neck.
She giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck, tilting her head back to allow Ares more access to her already exposed skin.
Aphrodite always let Ares lead, which was fine by him. She'd tell him if she'd had enough or he was being too rough.
Aphrodite suddenly shoved Ares away a moment after he had pressed a kiss to her collarbone. Baffled, Ares stared down at Aphrodite, who had her head turned, eyebrows furrowed as if she were annoyed. "What? I thought--"
"Shh!" Aphrodite shoved Ares off her with strength that belied her beauty, turning onto her stomach. She summoned a small mirror and stared at it intently as it hovered in front of her.
Offended and still puzzled by her actions, Ares leaned over her shoulder to see what could have captured her attention.
In the mirror were two people that Ares recognized. The second child of Hades and the fallen Shade who dreamed of flying. They were standing on the deck of a ship, talking to each other.
They were what pulled Aphrodite away from their activity? Really?
Aphrodite seemed ecstatic by the scene playing out before her, resting her chin in her hands and kicking her feet.
"What's so special about them?" Ares grumbled, sitting back and scowling. He knew better than to try and lure Aphrodite back into a love-making mood unless he wanted an elbow to the face.
Aphrodite gasped, turning on Ares with a look like he had besmirched her good name. "What's not to love about it? Oh, look at him, he so wants to love her, his new sun, but he's also afraid of rejection and failure. She's too busy with her duty, yet she takes time out of her night to speak with him when she sees him, keeping him with her as long as possible before he flies off again, to be seen when they next meet in Thessaly." Aphrodite swooned dramatically, laying an arm over her forehead. "The drama, the mutual pining, forbidden love! It's season three and I am invested."
It all sounded very boring to Ares, who wasn't interested in someone else's love life, unlike Aphrodite who made it her mission to lure soulmates together. He was just interested, at the moment, in relieving his pent up emotions.
Aphrodite turned back onto her stomach, staring at the mirror intently. She waved a hand at Ares. "You can go talk to Hephaestus if you don't want to watch my show with me. You two seem to get along really well."
Warmth bloomed across Ares' cheeks at Aphrodite's words. He wasn't sure whether she was implying something or if he was too horny to think straight. "What do you mean by that?"
"You two seem like good friends, is all. I'm glad you two get along so well, with this whole relationship we have."
Ares huffed, staring at Aphrodite as he tried not to sulk. Aphrodite continued staring into her mirror, occasionally making an annoyed noise at whatever was happening on the screen. He wasn't going to get her attention back anytime soon.
Frustrated and with no other option, Ares slid off his bed and walked to his bedroom door. He supposed seeing Hephaestus again wouldn't be so bad. Perhaps he could test out that ax.