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A Not-so-Simple Chat

Summary:

Ares has a chat with Bilbo.

Notes:

Not my favorite, not my best, but I was torn between doing this prompt with either the Percy Jackson series or the Artemis Fowl series. I settled for Percy Jackson because I'm a git of a greek mythology fangirl, even though I might've skewed some things, but derp.

I kinda want to revisit this idea, possibly, if only because I like the idea.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Bilbo wanted a normal childhood. He just wanted to make friends, go to school, and live through it without too many complications. Unfortunately, when you’re a demigod, such things are impossible. Especially when your mother was sought after by two gods, one, obviously, being the winner. So yes, he’s a good wordsmith, and he has very good aim, he always crumbles when it comes to a fight. It was why he did his best not to anger anyone, especially Ares. If his own situation didn’t speak of anything, Thorin’s did. He somehow pissed off Hermes (even Bilbo was sketchy with the details), and because of that he always gets lost incredibly easily. It used to be pretty bad, but it seemed Hermes’s anger had dwindled with time, since Thorin no longer needed someone with him to help him find the bathroom anymore.

But his cousins and brothers were the last thing on his mind. Right now, Ares was. Ares, who was sitting on his mother’s couch as if he owned the place, eyes burning and expression firm. He had a feeling he knew why the god was there, and why he chose now to show up in the first place.

“Ares.”

“Baggins.”

Bilbo fidgeted, trying to figure out whether or not he was supposed to offer a god tea or not. Ares didn’t seem like the type of god to even like tea. Still, it would do him no good to show bad matters in front of a god that already hated him just for his existence.

“Erm…” He muttered. “Would you like… tea?”

“No thank you.” The god answered, and Bilbo eased, because he was sure he would be tempted to do something with it. “I’m not here for pleasantries, Baggins.”

Bilbo figured as much. He hardly ever saw the god. His father, Apollo, made sure of it. It was only when they shared an opinion that Ares would be able to show up without any problems. Their backyard still hadn’t recovered from the last time.

“Then, pardon my bluntness, but why are you here?”

Ares eyes narrowed. “You know why.” He said. “It’s about your… relationship… with my son.”

Of course it had something to do with Dwalin. Dwalin, who was one of Ares’s favorite children. Who was large and intimidating, with the axes his father gifted him when he couldn’t handle a spear. Who didn’t like Bilbo at first due to obligation, but then started asking him to go on walks, to talk, and to make out in the boathouse. It should’ve been fine, for the gods didn’t care about such things (such things had been proven before with the likes of Ganymede). And if one demigod were to date another, so long as they didn’t share a parent. And in the past, a son or daughter of Ares could be with a son or daughter of Apollo without any fear of retribution. Unfortunately, Bilbo was different. Because both Ares and Apollo loved his mother, and Belladonna didn’t pick the god of war. Because a wild boar tried to gore Bilbo when he was a child.

Once upon a time, Bilbo would do whatever he could to not anger Ares. Even if it meant his own humiliation or heartache. But he liked Dwalin. He really liked him. And Dwalin had said before that he didn’t care what his father had to say. He didn’t want to give Dwalin up, and he wouldn’t.

“Are you here to warn me off him? Because it won’t work.” He asked, and before Ares could speak, he continued. “I know you don’t like me, and I know you wish I had never been born. But I love Dwalin, and I don’t want to hurt him because his father tells me to! I don’t care what you send after me, I’m not going to let him go, I won’t leave him, unless he is the one to tell me so.”

The god looked quite a bit irritated, and a fresh wave of fear wracked his body.

“I-I apologize if… if I was rude, or- If I insulted-.” He stuttered, trying to get control back of his ability to speak. “I just- I just really like Dwalin, and-.”

“Quit your stammering!” Ares barked, and Bilbo flinched back, biting his tongue and shutting his eyes. “I admit, you have guts. And I’ve killed many people for such lesser things, as you know.”

He winced again, awaiting a mighty blow that didn’t come.

“However…” The god growled, and Bilbo cracked open an eye to see him grating his teeth. “I don’t just want my son to be a mighty warrior. I want him to be happy and, as much as it kills me to say this, you make him happy. Happier than I’ve seen him in a long time. How on earth that happened, I have no clue.”

Bilbo braved opening both his eyes then, even as Ares adjusted the sleeves on his jacket.

“Not to mention Aphrodite supports your union with quite a zeal.” He grumped. “Something about ‘tough warrior types’ and ‘gentile types’, or whatever. I tuned her out for half of it.”

Bilbo jumped when the mirror above the fireplace cracked, and he heard Ares let out a number of curse words.

“Anyway, point is, I’m going to leave you and my son be.” He spoke quickly as he stood, adjusting his jacket before sending Bilbo another glare. “But mark my words, Bilbo Baggins, son of Apollo: If you ever hurt my son, I will make sure you fall in battle in the most gruesome way possible. Is that understood?”

“Y-Yes, sir.” Bilbo responded, because Ares’s eyes were flashing rather dangerously again.

“Good.” He barked, putting on his shades. “Now I gotta go get my girl something before she gets really mad. I’ll be watching you…”

Bilbo nodded quickly before shutting his eyes, protecting himself from seeing the god’s true form and the certain death that would follow. Once things had quieted down, he finally took a deep breath, frowning at the still-cracked mirror.

“Mother’s going to kill me…”

xxx

“How’s Canada?”

Bilbo giggled as Dwalin groaned in response on the screen. He was glad that his mother had helped him with his webcam. It allowed him such joyous, funny moments instead of just hearing the sounds in the static of a phone. Dwalin looked tired, bored, but he also seemed to be in good health, and that was what mattered.

“Terrible, but that’s the least of my problems.” His boyfriend groused before his bright eyes seemed to fix on his own screen. “Did you know who showed up while I was in the shower?”

Bilbo frowned in confusion before it dawned on him. “Let me guess: It was my father, wasn’t it?”

Dwalin blinked, looking quite surprised. “Y-Yeah…” He said before narrowing his eyes. “How did you know!?”

“Well, love, it’s a long story…”

Notes:

Fun Fact: Before all this, I actually wanted to write a retelling of the Abduction of Ganymede. But it's not one of my favorites, so I guess it wouldn't really count now, would it?

Anyway, next is Elizabethan Era. Oh jooooy...

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