in the morning i see clearly Who: Daniel [Ares] & Isobel [Persephone]. What: DREAM PUPPERS. Where: Ye olde times, and yet not. When: Sleep.
Persephone's eyes darted around the dark halls of the coliseum; it was in every way the exact same as the one in Rome, but for the fact that dark red skies overhead cast everything in a crimson shade. Her hands held a hood over her head, secreting her identity as she walked purposefully alongside servants and supplicants, warriors and others who were supposed to be there.
She wasn't even supposed to be outside her meadow. But in her mind, what her mother didn't know didn't hurt her.
With help from Hermes and the aid of her husband's helm, Persephone found a myriad number of opportunities to entertain herself when stuck in her meadow for the spring and summer. As much as she missed her spouse, the other entity that tore a hole in her heart was Cerberus, the great guard hound of Hades' underground kingdom. Her meadow teemed with animals, but none were like the three-headed dog that turned into a massive puppy at the sight of her.
With both Hades and Cerberus denied to her, Persephone sought other ways to balm her loneliness. Creeping around in other's lands, meeting new people were one way—but today, she'd heard tell of Ares' war dogs. It was not the first time she'd heard about their demon-like ways, their grand stature, the way they could rip a man apart with claw or teeth. But today? Today she'd learned where they were kept.
So now she passed through the arches in the replicated stadium, listening to the sounds of clashing weapons, the screams of dying men, winding through long halls until she heard a different noise—scrabbling claw and whining, the smell of fur. Holding her breath from excitement, she turned down a hall leading down into a warren-like room that worked for kennels.
Pushing back her hood, she smiled wide to see the large hounds, as tall as her shoulder, straining a little at the chains holding them fast to the walls. Thick collars wound around their necks, allowing no movement beyond what their master deemed fit. Slobber dripped from wicked looking jaws that promised only pain to those they met; black eyes all turned in her direction, and for a moment, it might have seemed that they were being given an early meal in the shape of a young girl.
Persephone showed no fear as she stepped forward, extending a hand with her knuckles turned out, introducing herself. The dog she approached growled in warning, but she did not pause—it sniffed, cautious, and then whined. Another beat, and its great head shoved against her hand, which she immediately took advantage of and started to scratch. Her other hand joined the first, both coming up under the massive beasts' head.
"Ooh, if only I had thought to bring some scraps," she said, holding out another hand as a second beast scooted as close as it could within the length of its chain.
"Then it's lucky you forgot."
Ares' voice resonated from a shadowed alcove. The shape of him was fluid and fluctuating, sketched out in guttering torchlight; he seemed as at home in the blood-tinged darkness as his sister Eris had ever been. He stepped out only enough to lean in the doorway, his bronzed arms crossed over his broad, scarred chest.
"You know they're hunting dogs," he said. "Spoil them once and they'll be useless forever. I know you're a queen and all now, but some rules still apply."
Persephone startled, turning to look over her shoulder at her nephew. She shook her head.
"I know you all think it's better to be feared than loved," she remarked. "But was not Troy attacked for the sake of it? You'd think Aphrodite would have taught you better by now." Ares only rolled his eyes. Her hands scratched under the dogs' chins, slobber pooling to the floor as they scrunched their eyes tight in pleasure. She could not stop herself from grinning in reply, and she moved to sit on the floor, amid hay and drool, more than pleased when one of the dogs slumped down to lay its head in her lap.
"There's nothing wrong with a little kindness, now and then."
"There is when it leads to weakness," Ares said. He strode further into the room and the great hounds rose to greet him—all save the one, of course, who too well loved the goddess's touch. Ares frowned. One hound whined as it pushed its head beneath Ares' hand. He did not look down to it, though he did turn his hand, letting it lap at the blood dried and crusted on its master's fingers.
"I do not go into your gardens and trample the flowers there," he said. "I only ask that you respect my domain as well. You have your own dog. Make Cerberus soft, and leave the dogs of war to me." He clicked his tongue. "I'd expected more of Praxidike, but perhaps the stories I've heard weren't true..."
Persephone didn't look up from stroking the massive dog's head; his jab did pull a laugh from her, though.
"Oh? And what have you heard? That I'm insufferable, far worse than my husband in dispensing pain on souls? Or that I'm a kidnapped bride, inconsolable when trapped in the underworld?" She glanced up, nails still slowly drawing a line behind one of the dog's ears. It huffed contentedly. "I can't keep up with them all. Perhaps gossip is enough to wound you, nephew, but I've learned to ignore it.
"And if Cerebus were not denied to me, it would be he I was spoiling right now, much to Hades' chagrin. Would you deny me this one small salve, for so short a time?"
Before he could answer, Persephone's gaze landed on something behind him, her brows furrowing. Two of the dogs whined, their heads tilting back to follow her line of sight.
"Though I might say, you should care better for your hounds by simply keeping their pens clean."
Ares immediately puffed up. "I do," he insisted. Their initial argument forgotten, he crossed the hay-strewn space to move behind his hounds. His eyes narrowed as he followed her line of sight. They were difficult to see in the dancing light of the torches, but soon enough the small creatures came into view.
They were no bigger than a thumbnail, delicate and lacy in appearance, but there were far more of them than Ares liked. He did not recognize them, though he leaned over the dog to get a clearer view, and stared unblinking at the insect for quite some time.
"Something from your gardens, no doubt," he said. "I'll have one of my servants bathe them and the stalls mucked out. You probably shouldn't stay there, in case it's something… I don't know. Biting. I can't have my dear uncle coming up here to flay me alive—or whatever he does down there—should you get hurt."
Persephone made a small, disgusted sound. "He knows I'm no delicate flower. And I didn't bring anything with me—I think I would know," she retorted, gently moving the dog from her lap so she could rise. The dog whined, but accomodated her willingly, following at her heels as she crossed the room to inspect the insects on her own. Her eyes narrowed, head tilting slightly as she studied them.
"They're not mine," she reiterated, reaching out to brush one of the bugs for more information. As she did so, a long string of white, gossamer-like substance followed her back. Persephone tried to wipe it away, but it only wrapped itself around her fingers, eventually covering three of them. They were bound together, no matter how hard she tried to free herself.
"Ares," she said, worry lacing his name. She shook her hand again, to no avail; her other hand touched the first, binding the two together. The dogs around her smelled her growing fear, one pitching a growl in response. "Do you... I think I need a knife..."
"Here." He moved away from the wall, where he had quickly unfastened the chains keeping the dogs at bay; if there was anything in the pen that posed a danger to any of them, Ares wanted his hounds at the ready. When he reached Persephone's side there was a blade in his hand, its edge sharp as razors despite the old, dried blood caked upon it.
"Hold up your hand," he said, raising the dagger; Persephone did as instructed, the webbing constricting tighter around her hands. With his free hand he reached out to her, intending to grasp her and hold her still. But in that moment a second insect launched itself at him, sending a series of white strands flying toward his outstretched fingers. They struck his flesh and stuck there, stiffening at once. Ares found himself unpleasantly reminded of Hephaestus's earlier bonds. His mouth turned down into a rapidly darkening frown.
"Well… if it isn't yours, whose could it be?" he asked. He turned the knife on his own binding threads, but managed to slice through exactly one strand before others moved to join it. The insects were everywhere, lining the walls, crawling out from beneath the hay that covered the floor.
"If I knew that, do you think I'd be stuck like this?" She shot back, holding up her still-bound hands. Persephone attempted to pull her hands back, apart, but the threads—as slim and shimmery as they looked—refused to budge. She backed away from the insects, which were now moving closer to the floor, the dogs taking two and three paces back away from them in hopping, backward motions that allowed them to keep the bugs in sight.
"Hopefully they can't fly—" Persephone started, but then the insects seemed to hear and be pushed to prove her wrong. One spread transparent wings and floated upward—before it could get too high, though, one of the dogs jumped and struck with its massive jaws, swallowing the thing whole.
"That's why they don't get treats," Ares gloated.
Encouraged, the other dogs joined in the impromptu hunt. They snapped and bit at the insects with wild abandon. They swallowed their share of the bugs, but as more of the small creatures began to pile on, the foolishness of their plan became clear. Insects covered the dogs' paws and legs, binding them to the floor; one fell, his forelegs bound tightly together before he could bite the bugs free. Ares muttered a curse and turned his focus to his bonds, sawing through a few small strands out of sheer rage.
"Eris," he muttered, though that, too, felt wrong. He looked to Persephone with increasing desperation. "We should leave if we can," he said, moving to her side. With one shoulder he pushed her toward the kennel's doorway. "See if anyone here can get us out of these, before we're bound to the floor itself."
"Gods, yes," she agreed, though despite her words her steps were hesitant, not wanting to leave the dogs behind in their bonds. They struggled against their capture, but she knew that there was little they'd be able to do if they too became wholly trapped.
"Can you not call someone...?" She ventured, starting toward the door. Some of the bugs, having overpowered their attackers, began to flutter in her and Ares' direction. Her steps brought her near one of the torches embedded in the walls; though bound, her fingers worked to lift it and she slashed through the air with flame, catching at least one bug on fire. "We need help!"
Ares hissed, a sound that was equal parts frustration and an ill-fated attempt to shush her; Persephone shot him a glare. "And who would come?" he asked. "My servants, to see their master bound yet again?"
He grabbed another torch from the wall and wheeled on the bugs. A few were set alight; but better still, the fire appeared to eat through their webbing. The flame spread only slowly over it, but that was far better than the weak progress his blade had made. Ares summoned his armor to him; it could not protect him from those places already webbed, but it would at least provide some defense against further attack.
He held his thread-bound hand over the flame. He grit his teeth against the pain, holding his hand steady until the fibers caught. Then, with his good hand, he struck out with the torch again, moving in front of Persephone as he fought back the encroaching bugs.
Persephone stepped back, for the moment willing to allow Ares his pride. She winced as she watched the flame eat through his bonds, glancing to her own; she did not relish the idea of burning herself free, but it seemed her only option at present. Sliding the torch back into its sconce, she held her hands near, biting her bottom lip to keep from crying out. She felt the bonds weakening, and then her hands were free once more.
She grasped one wrist, rubbing her skin, turning back to see what was becoming of the rest of the room. The bugs seemed cornered against one wall, between Ares' torch and the dogs. Grabbing up her flame once more, she moved to join him.
"Fine," she replied, acceding to his earlier wishes. "Then it seems we need to burn out the infestation. Would it not be wiser to call your hounds off? Unless you think a trial by fire is needed to test their mettle," she finished, no small amount of sarcasm dripping from her words. If Ares noticed it, he gave no sign.
"Have more faith in them. And me," he added, the last almost a murmur. He set the torch to the hay between them. It caught, smoking considerably, and moved toward where the hounds and insects had gathered. Fire ate through the webbing on the fallen hound's paws. The instant it was free it leapt up, snapping at smoldering insects, biting at even those still alight. Then the other hounds struck, stamping on the flaming hay beneath them, barking and growling with unmatched ferocity as master and animals attacked the pests.
Persephone hesitated only a moment before lighting the hay from her corner, and then going to arms against any attempted escapees. She batted down three before it seemed they held the upper hand over the creatures, and that they would be defeated. But she continued to hold her side of the hound pen, making absolutely sure that they were well and dead before drawing back.
"Don't let them eat all of them," she suddenly said, still holding the torch extended in front of her. "I want to see them, to see if I can figure out where they're from. It will serve no one if they're erased completely here, only to surface elsewhere."
Ares nodded at once. He shouted a command and each hound snapped its jaws one final time. Then they bounded proudly to their master, their mouths closed around their tiny captors. Ares shooed them out of the kennel, then shuffled backward toward its exit, himself, beckoning Persephone with him.
She paused for a moment, one last bug flying toward her; she swatted it with the other end of the torch, sending it plummeting toward the ground. Then, scooping it up carefully in one hand, she slid the torch home in an empty wall brazier and followed Ares outside into the still red-tinted arena but otherwise fresh air.
"Aah," she breathed, her lungs drinking deep for a moment. Then Persephone looked to Ares' hounds. "Are they all right? I hope the insects don't harm them." The opponent in question was carefully caged between her fingers, though the bug she'd swatted down seemed deceased, unable to cope with the overwhelming blow.
"They've survived far worse," Ares said, pride warming his voice. He looked to the hounds, tipping his chin in the queen's direction. They trotted up to her, each one gingerly opening its mouth and letting their captive insects free; Persephone squatted down, grinning as they dropped the insects into her waiting hands. Five hounds did so, each one waiting its turn, then trotted back to its master's side. All save one, who lingered by Persephone, gazing up at her with open adoration.
"Hopefully that will be enough for your study," Ares said. Grinning, he added, "The bugs, not the dog. You can't have him." The hound whined in answer, lowering its great head beside Persephone's hand. Piling the bugs into one palm, she reached to brush a hand over the beast's head.
"Don't fret," she whispered, more than aware that Ares could hear her words, "I think we'll see each other again." She patted the hound once more, then rose to her feet. Gently, she turned the bugs over in her hands, carefully inspecting them. They were white in color with small brown spots, their wings almost like lace.
"I've never seen anything like this before... They're almost cold to the touch." She couldn't imagine something like them in her garden. Persephone frowned. "I wish my mother were here. She might know more."
"You could take them to her," Ares suggested. It was clearly implied he would not make that trip with her. "For my part I'm just glad to have them gone. If any more show up they'll get burned like the rest."
The hounds gathered around their master, wary and ready to act if called upon. But nothing came out from beneath the still smoldering hay, and no other insects seemed to linger in the air. Satisfied, he led the lot of them from the depths of his temple, out into the sunlight beyond.
"If she doesn't, perhaps Hermes has seen them in his travels," he offered. "And I know someone I could ask as well." He smiled to think of Coyote; as much as Ares disliked these insects, they did seem like something Coyote would know of, or at least appreciate.
"Oh?" Persephone replied, thinking over his suggestions. "I think Demeter or Hermes would be best talked to, first. Mother, then Hermes—I think I'd rather have a decent idea of what this is, before Zeus finds out." She frowned, wondering if it was someone's trick or deceit, an attempt to gain control over someone.
"If you'd like to accompany me, I'd welcome it. My mother would be less than fond of your dogs, though," she offered, smiling as she watched them romp in their freedom, biting one another's ears and tumbling on the ground.
"Mmm…" He watched his hounds for a moment, but looked quickly back to the dread Queen of the Underworld. Ares found he liked her better now, this complex goddess with her feet in two worlds. And it was no secret she, in her newfound power, could be of great benefit to those who did her a kindness. Even, perhaps, one as small as this.
"All right," he said. "I'll go with you." He whistled long and low, and the hounds stopped their playing. As one they returned to the kennels at a gallop, and servants came out to greet them. Rebuilding would begin, and be completed by their master's return.
Ares flashed a sharp-toothed grin, unable to stop himself indulging in a bit of teasing. "And together we will charm Demeter into providing the answers we seek."
Persephone laughed, the sound free and boisterous. "Now that sounds as though it would be entertaining. Come." She inclined her head, taking the lead through the hallways she'd previously been sneaking through.