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Ares (brawler_king) wrote in nevermore_logs,

The fight had been good, there was no question of that. Ares wasn't going to let a little knock on the head slow Tragos down. There was work to be done, fights to win.

Like tonight, for instance. Tragos had been on good form, and Ares had watched and nodded his approval, and tried not to feel Melpomene's eyes from all the way across the room. That bitch had to be around, had to keep her finger in the pie, had to remind him that Tragos was partly hers, no matter what Ares said. He'd seen that salute. He missed nothing.

The time of the birth was coming nearer. Aphrodite was still sulking at him, her honour insulted, but Ares would not change his mind. He had zero interest in playing happy families with Aphrodite while nine muses and Apollo wailed outside his door for his part in harming Melpomene. He knew that things would get ugly, and fast. Better to deal with one pissed-off wife not letting him around than the possibility of public humiliation if Apollo demanded restitution, and Ares lost. The indignity. Ares was the God of Slaughter, but even he knew when to pick his battles.

So when Melpomene sidled up beside him after the bout, it did not surprise him in the least. He eyed her with a small amount of suspicion, but inclined his head to her slightly in acknowledgement of her greeting.

Always with the judicious use of epithets, though.

"You enjoyed it, then," he said, ignoring Tragos for the minute. He still felt a dark attraction for her, although not with that belly sticking right out, demanding attention. "A privilege, certainly. How are you faring?"