The God Within

Notes: Big thanks and hugs to Hallie for betaing for me :)

Appearing the embodiment of casual, Ares rested one ankle atop his other knee and ignored the growing drone around him. The hundred and one questions still hadn’t ceased but the expression of cool detachment on the War God’s face had convinced the other Deities to address each other rather then bother him. To each of the Gods and Goddesses present Ares appeared to be completely in thought and totally unapproachable, in truth he was mulling over the cryptic clues the Fates had given him whilst coolly assessing each of the Deities present to see who the clues could possibly apply to.


Having discounted most of the more distantly related Gods, Ares was now focussing on those directly related to Cupid and those affected by Asyinnitos curse; he suspected that they were the most connected to ‘the chaotic mess’ that the Fates had spoken of. He shifted slightly sensing a deep hum in the air and a hush came over the entire congregation as a deep purple flash lit up in the centre of the room which quickly formed into Zeus and Hera. Not a word was spoken as Zeus offered Hera his arm and the two regally walked to the front of the room, leaving the other Gods to hastily arrange their seating positions. Ares could sense, rather then hear a buzz of mental conversation no doubt centred on Zeus and Hera’s entrance. It was rare, almost unseen for some of the younger Gods, for the King and Queen of the Gods to appear united on anything. It didn’t matter that Hera was backing Ares because she agreed with finding out the truth about Strife whereas Zeus was backing her for a hassle free life and because he was more inclined for the curse to be lifted then finding out what injustices had been done to Strife. The two were obviously united in their cause to back Ares or they would not have agreed to the Forum and arrived together.

Ares smirked as they passed drawing a brief smile from Hera and eliciting several uneasy looks from those around him. A brief flare of power at the back of the room had Ares scanning it briefly rather then crassly turning around to gawk at the latecomer; realising the latecomer was Asyinnitos he briefly toyed with the idea of telepathically reminding her that arriving after Zeus generally put the King in a bad mood, one which even Hera would find difficult to shift him out of despite her ability to persuade him. A second less powerful flare of power caught his attention as he sensed the arrival of a late-coming God and this time he did briefly shift and eye the tardy one. It took a second or two for Ares to place the Godling but he immediately dismissed him once he had; the God in question was extremely young by their standards, less then a century in fact and judging from the uneasiness on his face he’d obviously been doing something he shouldn’t. As the Godling settled between his mother and siblings throwing Asyinnitos a quick glance, Ares guessed the youngster had been trying to get the curse lifted; though the War God seriously doubted the Godling would be on the receiving end himself, he knew how attached the child had been to Cupid especially when he was young and suspected he’d had a hand in getting the Love and Mischief God’s together in the first place. As Ares eyes flicked back to Zeus and he prepared to speak to the Pantheon it never once occurred to him that the young God in question would have also been the one to split them apart.

“Thank you all for attending,” although Zeus’ words were gracious his tone implied that there was no way in which any of them could have refused, “As you all know there has been some debate following the death of Strife, our God of Mischief.” For once the slightly self centred God was focussed on someone other then himself and as his eyes swept his audience, they could see his commitment. “I’m going to turn this Forum over to my son in a moment but be advised he has both myself,” he glanced down at Hera who had sat down on her throne, “and my wife’s backing on any matters that may arise here. That includes any crimes or misdemeanours relating to Strife and the punishments to be handed out.” The King’s eyes scanned the room, fixing on Asyinnitos and Adrasteia who sat beside her daughter and he continued, “Some punishments have already been dealt out and will not be revoked as yet.”

As angry mutterings swept through the crowd Zeus boomed out, “Any threats or bribery affected upon those who have dealt out these punishments shall be met with severity by myself.”

Though the mutterings ceased the Gods expressions ranged from shocked (Aphrodite), angry (Athena) and accepting (Cupid); even Asyinnitos seemed surprised by his words, she’d not expected Zeus to take the matter as seriously and she was quite surprised when his eyes softened as he looked at her and continued his speech. “Only Gaia and Eris are not included today; Eris is erstwhile engaged and Gaia doesn’t wish to join us, it appears she is more then slightly annoyed at our behaviour.” The brief flare of colour lighting his face made everyone there present sure that Gaia had given Zeus a few choice words on the matter.

“Whatever the outcome of this forum be aware that serious repercussions will be in order for those who ostracised Strife or took it upon themselves to dole out their own justice.”

Ares noticed several of the Gods pale at Zeus’ words and those not already on his mental list were added. Ares noticed Aphrodite try to sink lower into her chair as Zeus’ eyes scanned over her but as they passed a sulky pout settled over her features. Although Cupid was sitting as far away from her as possible and was only slightly closer to Ares she seemed unconcerned by the Forum and Cupid’s distance. Not only were most of Aphrodite’s other children congregated around her in a show of support they were making it clear they were not impressed with anyone going against her; Deimos and Phobos were very obviously glaring, trying to look as threatening as possible towards Asyinnitos who leant so close to Adrasteia that she was almost on her mothers lap. The twins reception to Ares had been cooler then usual but they had long ago accepted that, despite their fury, Ares still considered Strife his nephew so they weren’t that surprised that Ares was willing to consider the Forum; but that he would head it and now actively support Strife’s possible innocence didn’t sit well with them.

Only Anteros sat close to Cupid, actively supporting his brother, his body language towards Aphrodite making it clear that he defended Cupid in favour of her. Cupid was a little paler then normal and definitely grimmer but at least he was sitting quietly, preparing to listen to what Zeus had to say. Out of all the Deity’s present he was the only one Zeus had given permission not to attend; Cupid was also the one who wanted to attend the most.

Ares watched Cupid as Zeus kept up the long winded, politely phrased threats; the War God was glad his son seemed calmer and more at peace then he had decades before; Ares personally believed that had Cupid been given more of a chance to vent after Strife’s apparent betrayal then Cupid may have been able to naturally move on. Ares had supported forcing him to get on with his life but not altering it to such an extent. The only good thing that had come out of the whole mess had been Bliss; Ares was extremely fond of his youngest grandson although he’d only seen him a handful of times. Despite, or maybe even because, of Aphrodite’s mind-messing Cupid had been a very rare visitor to Ares temples, especially the one on Olympus, and he’d never brought Bliss with him. Ares had only properly met his grandson once, when Psyche had desperately needed a babysitter and he’d spent nearly an hour with the boy before Cupid had picked him up; that had been before Bliss had been even able to recognise him. Ares hoped that he hadn’t burned all his bridges with Cupid and that he could spend as much time with his eldest child as he did with any of the others. Cupid must have sensed eyes upon him because he turned to stare at his Father; as Cupid’s frown smothered out and he offered Ares the tiniest nod in recognition, the War God felt the bridges remaking.

“And now I turn you over to Ares,”

Having tuned out most of Zeus long winded introduction Ares almost missed his opening, almost; the God stood up quickly but not fast enough to draw attention, at least not the wrong kind of attention anyway. Striding to the front of the room and making sure to glower at every God looking his way as he passed, Ares reached the front and nodded to Zeus in politeness as the King of the Gods settled down in his throne next to Hera.

Ares looked out at the mass of Gods in front of him, his glower fading into seriousness as he spoke; “as most of you have heard and disputed I am sure, I believe that Strife, my nephew and ex-mischief God was unjustly punished, shamed and almost disowned by most of this Pantheon. None of you may like these accusations and most of you may believe they’re unfair but I have every intention of clearing Strife’s name and making all of you realise what you’ve also done.”

Crossing his arms over his chest he aimed another glare at Deimos and Phobos as he sensed their mental communication. Ares had to keep up the formalities to keep his temper in check; already he could sense other mental conversations taking place and he was finding it increasingly difficult to hold back.

“I use the word also because none of us, including myself, are innocent in this; Strife merely committed something many of us in this room are guilty of," his eye caught Aphrodite's, who blushed, and Apollo's who was notorious for seducing mortal spouses; he was tempted to turn around and eye Zeus but the temptation was outweighed by the need for his fathers backing. “At least that’s what we all believed, myself included. But I’m sure we were wrong,”

Ares took a deep breath, “I won’t defend Strife or his actions by justifying that he wasn’t that kind of God because most of you didn’t know him, myself included; but there’s one God in here who can truly say if there’s a chance Strife could have been innocent.” Ares locked eyes with Cupid, “and if he believes there was no chance of that we’ll end this now, no matter what.” Ares kept his eyes trained on Cupid, willing his son to get up and speak; he needed Cupid’s backing too especially after the things the Fates had revealed to him.

Cupid had gone a sickly white that only lightened as the other Deities, catching Ares eyeline, turned to stare at him. A hundred and one things raced through the Love God’s mind as he stared up at Ares but only the question cut through them demanding Cupid’s attention; dry mouthed and swallowing hard to hold back his pain, Cupid focussed only on Strife and his ex-lovers possibility of rebirth, he had to answer honestly despite the pain and guilt it brought,

“Yes there’s a chance.”

*Way to go son,* Ares thought noting the strength it had taken for Cupid to answer his question and proud that Cupid had managed. As Anteros reached out inconspicuously to grasp his brother’s hand in support Ares noticed the tiny shaky smile on Cupid’s face. It wasn’t recovery but it was a start, Ares hadn’t seen that smile no matter how small for a long time. It pleased him to know at least two of his sons were there for each other, the glance Cupid shot him gave him renewed hope that all his bridges were not burned; it was a combination of anger, acceptance and thanks.

Noticing the din sweeping the room Ares forwent diplomacy to palm a deep red fireball which he flung at the wall behind the assembled Gods. The explosive sound it made as it hit had those nearest it jumping up and shrieking but luckily being Olympus and Zeus’s Hall, the wall was undamaged apart from a little singeing. Ares was unsure if it was the expression of irritation showing clearly on his face which had all those assembled quieting, or the other fireball he tossed lazily up and down in his free hand; either one worked like a charm and at a slight mental nudge from Hera, Ares reluctantly dissolved the fireball.

“So Cupid agrees, the one person apparently betrayed by Strife actually believes he could be innocent too.” Ares noted that some of his assembled relatives were starting to look a little uneasy and exchanging glances as he continued, “I held this forum as more as an introduction, a formal way to let you all know- you’re all in trouble,” Ares glanced over at Hestia and Hecate who were both raising eyebrows at him, “well most of you. From now on I’ll be reviewing every inch of Strife’s life, from his death backward in order to find anyone who mistreated him. Those who did will be subjected to justice dolled out by myself… Zeus and Hera.” The second part was clearly said as an afterthought but the two divinities’s merely stiffened slightly, “and you might want to plea your case to them before I review Strife’s life and find it, remember some of you have already been identified courtesy of one of our own.” Ares shot a smirk towards Asyinnitos but it was an impressed smirk, “that particular punishment stands, regardless.” He caught the small smile the tiny Goddess threw at him as she relaxed away from her mother.

Ares could sense the anger in the room and despite Zeus’s backing he was sure a bloodbath would erupt soon; Athena looked like she was about to spit fire and even some of the most mild tempered Gods were clenching their fists. Aphrodite looked like she could emasculate Ares on the spot and even the minor, and unlikely to be involved, Godlings were feeling the tension and mentally sniping at each other. Which meant it was time to bring out the big swords; the one thing that would have them all accepting, however grudgingly, what had to be done.

“And the Fate’s have witnessed and agreed.” Ares words may have been spoken at their normal volume but the weight they held brought about a great hush (mental and otherwise) and had the group paused in their thoughts. Only Zeus and Hera remained unaffected, since both had expected Ares to have found a way to get every God’s immediate acquiescence; Hera, because she knew her son had always been stubborn and had a trick up his sleeve and Zeus…because the elder God hadn’t wanted to be surprised and followed him.

After a moment of silence in which Ares delightedly watched horror dawn across the faces of his ashen family, he explained; “They were cryptic as always but also surprisingly clear. His isn’t the only sin we have to ashamed of; according to them there have been a multitude of offences, starting long before Strife. Strife’s death has given them a reason to interfere as directly as possible rather then just guide us.” Ares took a deep breath as he delivered his next words; “Strife’s thread of life is missing, hidden somewhere in the tapestry, maybe even…erased.” The words were difficult as regret hit him, “Which confirms what Hades found, that Strife’s soul is gone.”

Ares could feel the horror mounting, even Aphrodite was starting to look ill at the thought of complete annihilation; Ares guessed it was probably more at the possibility of it rather then Strife’s death but at least he was getting a reaction. Hades had already warned Ares that several of the Gods believed Strife’s shade to be hidden in the Underworld under Hades protection; it angered Ares to think Strife was possibly lucky to have his soul destroyed then ending up as a constant whipping boy to those who still wanted to avenge Cupid- it enraged Ares more to think that, in life he had treated Strife like that.

“They are prepared to help me go over every inch of Strife’s life and find out where we went wrong,” Ares tone brooked no argument and several of the older God’s looked shamefacedly at their own neglected offspring, “and to find out how in Tartarus, Psyche was conceived.” Ares knew they’d be comments at that statement so he quickly added his next surprise, one that had shocked even him, “the Fates have examined Psyche’s thread; whilst they believe she and Bliss were once woven from Strife’s they believe there is some strangeness in the pattern; although Psyche undoubtedly is of Strife, the thread suggests that is not where she came from.”

As chaos erupted all around him Ares couldn’t help but smirk, somewhat satisfied at the reaction as Zeus stood up frantically trying to restore order and grant a recess. The War God was determined to find out who was responsible for Psyches conception and punish them and those who’d enjoyed or used the fallout from it.

Only Asyinnitos smiled in the growing discord as the Goddess, often referred to as ‘mother nature’, voice echoed softly in her mind, *he can be a bit of a windbag child but finally he’s actually taking some action and not being all bluster so try to concentrate. Just don’t let any of them intimidate you when Ares calls for you; since you have time now come to see me; I’d like to meet young Joxer soon and I want to talk to you properly before I do.* Still smiling Asyinnitos caught Ares eyes and nodded briefly before making her excuses to Adrasteia and flashing directly to Gaia; the young Goddess wasn’t one to disrespect her great-grandmother especially when it involved her favourite charges.

Unfortunately neither the raucous nor even his own deep-seated worry distracted one other God. The young God in question saw the God of War’s apparent smugness and caught the brief smiles between Ares and Asyinnitos before she flashed out; tracing her journey the young God cursed silently as he lost her position until he quickly realised how precarious a position Asyinnitos had left Joxer in. Since the entire Pantheon was working themselves up into frenzies and the Goddess herself was stupidly distracted, he decided it was the perfect opportunity to slip away and use his leverage. A cruel and ugly grin crossed his features as he flashed out, honing in on the unprotected mortal.

**********

Another worried Godling in Greece unhappily twisted and turned as more memories were released; baby Strife, as if picking up on the vibes from Olympus, had been brought out of his deep sleep and was drumming his feet against Joxer’s stomach. The baby was far too small for the mortal to feel anything other then a light fluttering in his belly but Joxer was certainly sharing in Strife’s anxiety as the foetal-God’s memories pulled him out of his deep sleep and into pain. The transition into Strife’s memories was a rough one as Joxer was suddenly an unhappy witness and victim to the past.

Joxer bit back screams as he felt the skin from his back break under the expert handling of a dagger. He wasn’t sure how he knew what had cut his back or why Strife should know but the blinding pain that followed thrust all thoughts from his mind; as slim fingers were pushed into the cut peeling the skin back easily his instinctive reaction to retch took over and he bucked, biting down hard on his lip to avoid vomiting. Trying to pull leaden arms towards him, Joxer realised something was holding him down, pinning him to the cold surface he felt below. The mortal wished he could turn his head but once more his body wouldn’t obey his commands and Joxer realised that what he had thought to be a terrible nightmare was actually another dream memory. Smooth fingers danced across Joxer’s back tauntingly and moved around the cut in a show of false-comfort before the nails slipped under his skin; inwardly screaming Joxer prayed to ever Divinity he could name for the excruciating pain to end as another segment of skin was peeled slowly from his back but all his body did was yank on it’s bindings. Knowing he couldn’t take much more and wishing Strife couldn’t and would pass out, Joxer screamed inwardly letting loose the howls he knew Strife was trying to repress; each time a strip was torn and his back massaged he echoed the inner screams he could hear from Strife’s mind.

Joxer wished he could have control for a moment though he knew it would make no difference if he had; the bindings were too tight, the torture too incapacitating. All he could do was experience the blistering agony Strife had been subject to, the Mischief God’s punishment for something he hadn’t been guilty of, and try to block it out as ridiculous a notion as it was. Too exhausted to scream Joxer felt new agony as something bitter invaded his senses, covering his back, and Strife’s body finally let loose with the God’s unwilling screams. Only a muted flash came in answer to Strife’s calls for help which Joxer could barely see, the identity of the Deity was hidden from him as his tormentor stilled and Strife’s body trembled on the Altar it rested on. Joxer could feel Strife frantically trying to regain control of his body and suppress the pain he felt but Joxer fought against experiencing it to listen to the soft conversation he could hear in the background.

Barely having heard the words, “worthless” and “deserves it” Joxer felt the bindings around Strife’s body release and he slumped onto the cold marble, the God too weak to flash away and hide. It was only when the chill had permeated his entire being that Joxer realised the voices, and indeed all the Deity’s, were gone leaving Strife’s abused body bleeding atop the Altar. Joxer was too tired to fight against the cold, too hurt to even be sickened by the callous torture and abandonment of the other Gods; he was almost ready to surrender just as Strife had been over a decade before. Luckily unlike Strife who’d been left for weeks to heal on his own, Joxer was rapidly pulled into another memory one more then pleasant in comparison.

The cold sensation vanished in an instant to be replaced by a hot flush which seemed extremely familiar as did the shudders that followed, wracking his body; Joxer strained to see in the deep red darkness ahead of him as a thin slit of light opened to rapidly reveal light. He tried to mentally blink back the bright colours that assaulted him as he attempted to focus. Joxer wasn’t sure whether he was embarrassed or relieved to realise the apparent darkness was only because Strife’s eyes had been closed but both emotions quickly gave way to complete shock as he realised where he was and who he was with. Had Joxer been in his own body, his face would have been blood-red and not merely wearing the satisfied smirk he could feel upon it; he was also sure had he been in his own body the God of Love would not have been firmly nestled between his legs smirking back at him. Joxer wanted to close his eyes at the sight before him; not because naked Cupid was in any way bad to look at, in fact the God was even more handsome then the last time Joxer had seen him but this time he was definitely seeing a bit too much of him. The man wasn’t entirely sure he would be able to look Cupid in the eye again without thinking back to the image of the hot and smirking God. This definitely didn’t bode well for his relationship with Ares especially if the God read his mind.

Only the almost innocent kiss Cupid bestowed upon Strife’s waning erection snapped Joxer out of his silent panic, *Oh Gods please don’t say I’m about to experience sex with Cupid,* he whimpered mentally at the thought. Gorgeous as Cupid was, Strife’s obviously love for him and Joxer’s last dream experience had him cringing away; even if it only was mental cringing since Strife’s body was already recovering and preparing itself for more pleasure, luckily the Love God had other ideas as he laughed and crawled up Strife’s body settling beside him.

Cupid’s laughter relaxed Joxer, despite the God’s closeness to him; the closeness didn’t feel awkward or embarrassing in fact it felt…nice. More then nice in fact, Joxer could feel security, love and lust all wrapped up together which made him feel dizzy and almost overwhelmed; it was so strong and passionate, not a single uneasy or negative emotion flittered across Joxer’s consciousness, just an all encompassing feeling of content. He jumped slightly as Cupid pressed against his, or rather Strife’s body and had to remind himself that he was merely a watcher in the dream not a participant. It saddened Joxer to realise that these feelings had been absent for so long for Strife, that the pain and bitterness Joxer had felt in every memory had enveloped his friend instead. The mortal wished he was back in his own body so he could wrap his arms around the growing foetus inside him and comfort him; he knew baby Strife wouldn’t remember and couldn’t understand the memories he showed Joxer but that Strife had been put through such torment and lost something so precious to him both pained and enraged Joxer. That in turn made him more determined to protect his gestating friend even if he couldn’t retaliate against those who had harmed him.

A soft kiss to his lips distracted him and Joxer groaned silently as Cupid gently kissed his lips again, teasing them apart with his tongue; the mortals mental mantra of, *not my body, Strife’s body* began and only intensified as the Mischief God’s body responded and Joxer felt his arm, Strife’s arm, lace around Cupid’s neck as the two God’s deepened their kiss. Surprisingly enough Cupid was the first to break the kiss and Joxer found himself staring into his deep green eyes as a slow jubilant smile lit across his face.

“I won, your turn first,” Cupid sounded more ecstatic then smug about it and as Joxer tried to guess what he meant, Cupid pressed one hand against Joxer’s belly pulling him closer as he did. Joxer felt the faked pout upon Strife’s lips only seconds before Cupid kissed it away again and cuddled against him. Still trying to guess what Cupid could have meant and not coming up with much from the other jumbled dream memories, Joxer’s mind could only focus on the current memory when his body shifted slightly of its own accord to curl around Cupids.

“Ya think we should start nah? Or wait till its tah late for ‘em tah stop?” Joxer felt the soft words come out of his mouth but despite Strife’s sarcastic tone he could sense that the issue, whatever it was, was deeply bothering the God.

“They wouldn’t try and stop us Strife, trust me,” Cupid’s tone was equally as soft but his voice was unshakeably firm; as Joxer looked into his eyes he felt his own inner furies about the God fade, however Cupid had reacted after Psyches conception it was obvious the God loved Strife. It was also glaringly obvious to Joxer that Cupid was trying to reassure Strife, which proved that Cupid had sensed the worry from him. Although he got no reply, Joxer could feel the anxiety inside Strife ease a little at Cupid’s words.

“Ya sure? Thay’ll think ya can do bettah, ya know.”

Strife was matter of fact about it but Joxer could feel the hurt from within the God; it was the sad acceptance and truth Strife felt, that made Joxer want to start dealing out vengeance to some of the Gods. He’d always known his friend had had problems and issues but he’d hoped most had only started after his emotional exile from the rest of the Gods, that Strife felt only slightly better about himself before the trouble began angered Joxer deeply. He was glad Cupid had been some happiness in Strife’s life but even that didn’t stop the Mischief God feeling disliked and unworthy of the rest of the Pantheon. Joxer got brief flashes, images he presumed were linked to the memory he was reliving; Discord hissing that he was nothing but a mistake of Fate, Athena wrinkling her face in disgust and staring at him in distaste, the look on Apollo’s face saying it all and Aphrodite’s look of horror as Cupid presented Strife to her.

Only Cupid’s quiet reassurances and love seemed to chip away the pain Strife held inside; “Then they don’t know you very well; if they did they’d know you were too good for me,”

Cupid kissed Strife’s fingers as he spoke but his eyes were locked to the other God’s; Joxer could see the honesty in them but Strife obviously couldn’t as the words made him only uncomfortable. Joxer could sense Strife’s unease only lift slightly and so he was glad when Cupid continued,

“I hope you’ll believe me one day even if you don’t right now. Some of the God’s might be a little pissy yeah but only because they are jealous, besides with Dad and Hera backing us they won’t say anything,” Cupid smiled at him, “You know Dad’s really fond of you and you're totally Grandma’s favourite, she definitely thinks you’re way too good for me.”

Joxer felt Strife laugh at that before he heard the sound but it wasn’t a bitter or sarcastic laugh, it was more rueful; Joxer could sense, and was ashamedly surprised, that the words were true and that Strife never doubted it. Joxer had believed Ares had some kind of fondness for Strife which Cupids words and Strife’s feelings confirmed, something the mortal was pleased about; he was slightly confused about Hera, though he hadn’t seen her belittling or punishing Strife in any of his memories she hadn’t helped him either. A sudden thought caught Joxer’s attention and had he been wearing his own face he would have smiled; maybe the green-eyed monster curse on Cupid wasn’t for such petty reasons after all.

“I do think we should wait though,” Joxer’s attention switched back to Cupid and Strife at the Love God’s words, “Only because Grandma will kill us, well me, if we don’t do the wedding first. You know she likes these things to be legitimate.”

The hand caressing Strife’s stomach was slightly distracting Joxer but he tried to focus on Cupid’s words; as Cupid’s hand moved lower all thoughts of focussing on his words left Joxer’s mind and he and Strife groaned as one whilst the Love God worked his magic.