Other authors inspired me to complete this story. Among them, Candace's adventures with the members of the House of War. Discord's Tower is hers. The sundial comes from "Deer Afroditie" by Beth. There is also a passing reference to something that happened in an old story of mine, "Trial and Ares," but you don't have to had read it to understand. This story is part of my ongoing fascination with Ares as a father and, obviously, an interest in the story of Cupid and Psyche.

Fledgling
by Amorette

The Halls of War are dark and forbidding, the walls of polished black basalt, the floors of inlaid bone, the only decorations iron and bronze and ash wood, sharpened and weighted, designed for one purpose only. The air was cold, like death, and smelled of smoke and blood.

I cringed back against my husband as we entered the great chamber.

"He's not here," said Cupid.

"How can you tell?" My voice was a whisper that seemed to vanish into the space even before I finished speaking.

Cupid smiled and kissed my nose. "I'm a god, my love. And he is my father, so we can sense each other's presence."

"Can you sense my presence, brother dear?"

The voice that shrilled out of the gloom startled me. Cupid's arm tightened around me as two figures emerged from the shadows. I knew who they had to be because they resembled their elder brother, although not as handsome as my beloved; Deimus and Phobus, although which was which I didn't know. One wore leather that color of ox blood, his white hair sticking up from his head. The other wore deep crimson of the same cut, his hair long and hanging straight to frame his pale features.

"Of course." Cupid sounded amused. "Don't worry, Psyche, they look mean but they're really quite nice boys. Aren't you?"

The one with the short hair giggled nervously.

"Deimus," said my husband, gesturing towards his giggling brother, "and Phobus."

Phobus said nothing, only gave me a quick, thin smile.

"Has she met dear Discord?" asked Deimus, giggling again.

Cupid made a rude noise, that made his brother laugh some more. Phobus' repeated his smile but said nothing.

"She met Discord at the reception. Discord was. . ." Cupid laughed while Deimus echoed him. "She was horrid, of course, and Strife was so obsequious, I think he hurt himself."

Phobus stepped forward a pace, tilting his head to one side to study me. I steeled myself to meet his gaze. He was the God of Panic, after all. I should be frightened by him. He circled around behind us. As he came to face us again, to my surprise, he suddenly gave me a broad, cheerful smile and said, in a voice that was much like my husband's, "She's not bad looking. So, Mom made her a goddess, huh? Fancy that."

"She always spoils you, Cupie," whined Deimus. "She likes you best."

"Of course she does," replied Phobus, smacking the back of his brother's head as he went to stand next to him. "She's the Goddess of Love, remember?" He smirked at Cupid. "Dad likes us best."

If the exchange disturbed Cupid he gave no sign of it besides a resigned shake of his head. "You two are hopeless, you know."

"And aimless. . ." said Deimus.

"And feckless. . ." said Phobus.

"And graceless. . ."

"And worthless."

"And useless. . ."

It must have been a family joke because after Deimus and Phobus finished their little recitation, all three brothers laughed.

"Where is the old man?"

Phobus shrugged but Deimus said, "I think he's off playing with birds."

"Good." Cupid gave an exaggerated shudder, his feathers rustling. "Then he's outside this gloomy dump."

"Gloomy!" Deimus said indignantly. "It's not gloomy."

"Yes, it is," responded Phobus. "It's definitely gloomy. But it's not a dump."

"No, not a dump. It's a very elegant, gloomy, dark, tomblike. . ."

Their voices faded as they vanished into the darkness. Cupid chuckled, shaking his head. I was relieved when Cupid lead us back into the fresh, clean air of Olympus.

"I know," Cupid said, giving me a hug once we were outside. "They are unnerving but the weird thing about that side of my family, they are more bark than bite." At my doubtful expression, he added, "Well, unless the House of War has a reason to be mad at you. And since they are all going to love you, you have nothing to worry about."

Nothing to worry about. Right. During all my long ordeal, once I realized who my mysterious lover was, who had spirited me away to his castle in the air, I had thought only of Cupid and his mother. I hadn't once remembered that Cupid, God of Love and Desire, was also Eros, son of Ares, and heir to that power as well.

Cupid scooped me up in his arms and spread his wings. I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck, a little frightened by it still. I knew he wouldn't drop me and even if I fell, I was immortal, but I still wasn't used to flying.

We flew away from the Halls of War, past a graveyard of heroes and the odd, tilted tower of Discord and her brood, and over a forest that spread out beyond the lands of War. As we flew, I noticed another creature in the sky, an enormous bird of prey, swooping and gliding. Cupid followed it down into a clearing.

I was trembling. Cupid kissed me and whispered, "Don't worry. He's not half as terrible as he looks."

I wanted to say he could be only a tenth, a hundredth, a thousandth as terrible as he looked and I'd still be afraid.

Ares, God of War. He was tall and broad shouldered, with night black hair, dressed all in black and silver. The bird, which was an eagle as black as its master, was perched on Ares' wrist. The god was scratching the bird's head, saying something to it in a deep, rumbling voice.

"Father."

Cupid took my hand and led me up to his father. I felt weak in the knees and wanted to curtsey but Cupid's grip kept me on my feet.

Ares turned slowly. He was a handsome creature, with enormous dark eyes and full lips framed by a neatly trimmed beard and mustache. He raised one heavy eyebrow.

"So," he said, his voice reminding me more of thunder than had the voice of Zeus, "this is the child that sent your mother into such fits." He shook his head. "She's pretty enough but not worth all the fuss."

My husband laughed. "You know mother."

Ares snorted, giving a quick shake of his head. "So, daughter-in-law, how do you like Olympus?"

Daughter-in-law. He said it so casually. I guess that meant he accepted me. It took me a moment to find my voice.

"Overwhelming, my lord."

"Really?" He looked around, as if he had never seen it before. "Mostly I find it boring."

What could I say to that? Before I had a chance to think of something, Ares lifted his arm and sent the eagle soaring, then said, "Cupid, why don't you give us a moment."

I clutched at Cupid's arm and I know my fear must have shown in my face. He gave me a soft smile, a gentle kiss, and pried my fingers off his arm. "Remember what I said about the House of War," he whispered in my ear, then stepped back and sprang into the air, after the eagle.

I was aware that I was trembling and must look a complete coward before someone who counted courage above all else.

Ares extended one hand. I could see the gauntlet that wrapped his wrist, black leather and silver metal and shining, blood red stones. I stared at it rather than try to meet his eyes. He touched my cheek and turned my face towards his. I kept my eyes averted.

"Look at me, child." It wasn't a command. His voice was soft.

I managed to look up. This close, I could see his eyes weren't black but dark brown, flecked with gold and green. There was something in them, in their depths, that frightened me, but it was far away.

"I told my son once, long ago, that it was his destiny to be half of the greatest love in history." He smiled. I suddenly saw where my husband got his smile. "You are his destiny and I'm glad he found you."

I found myself laughing weakly. "That's a rather overwhelming thought, that I was a god's destiny."

"Perhaps." He shrugged and his hand fell away from my cheek. "But it is a lovely destiny, don't you think?"

"Well, I guess so. Better than some."

To my astonishment, Ares clapped his hands and laughed, a laugh that both deep and booming and childlike at the same time. "I like the way you think," he said, still chuckling. "Now. . ." He tilted his head to one side as he looked at me. "What to give you as a present."

"My lord," I stammered, "It isn't necessary. . ." I thought of all the gifts we had. My stunned parents, once they got over their initial shock, gave me the gifts fit for a princess when she married. Aphrodite had given us a temple, an actual temple, with a marble altar trimmed in red velvet that, was, in my honest opinion, rather garish. Hera, as goddess of marriage, gave us a bed bigger than houses I've seen. Zeus gave me crown he said was made of stars. I had so many things from so many people and gods that I couldn't imagine there was anything in the world I could possibly need or want or use.

Ares was chuckling and it occurred to me that he could probably see my thoughts. I blushed, ashamed.

"Don't be," he said with a wave of his hand. "I've seen some of Aphrodite's gifts. Be glad she didn't give you one of her sun dials. The gnomon is made out of a. . .well, let's just say it wouldn't be considered in the best of taste."

I could imagine. I found myself laughing, quite merrily, relaxed as Ares laughed along with me.

He looked up. I did as well and saw my husband and the eagle seemed to be playing a game, chasing each other through the sky.

"What can I give you. . . " he said, gravely, turning his dark eyes towards me once more, "to make you a fit bride for my fledgling."

He held out his hands and I took them. They were much bigger than mine and I expected them to be callused but they weren't. Of course not. These hands, this body, were merely a shell he donned when it suited him. If he wished, like all the true gods, he could be nothing more than the glow of his godhood. I shivered a little. That had not been imparted to me. I was little more than a mortal given a long life and a few tricks.

"You are much more than that, my daughter," said Ares and leaned forward to kiss me gently on the forehead.

I felt something, as if my whole body were washed in a warm rain. I had no idea, at first, what Ares had done until Cupid alighted next to his father and smiled. They looked very much alike at that moment, both smiling with delight.

"It's perfect, father," breathed my husband and reached out and touched. . .my wings.

I spun around, trying to see them, and both Cupid and Ares laughed.

"Here," said Cupid, and summoned a polished mirror that let me see them.

They weren't like my husband's. His were great sweeps of feathers, shining white, larger than a great swan's, or even the gigantic eagle that was perched again on Ares' arm and preening itself. Mine were like a butterfly's. They were blue and green and rose gold, all iridescent and shimmering. I touched them and shivered as I felt my own fingers, as if I had brushed my arm.

I stared up at the God of War, who looked down at me mildly, as if giving someone butterfly wings were something he did everyday. I knew it wasn't. I knew no one would ever guess this perfect gift came from him and that made it even more special.

"Thank you," I breathed, throwing myself into his embrace. He wasn't terrifying anymore. He was warm and safe. I hugged Ares and he hugged me back.

"Thank you," he breathed in my ear, "for loving my son."

Then he pushed me away, nodded abruptly to Cupid, and said, "Teach her to fly, now, and be nice about it." Then he vanished, in a flash of silver and blue.

Cupid hugged me tightly, and gave me a passionate kiss, before pushing me away to study me, smiling broadly.

"Trust Ares," he said, "to come up with something like this."

"He said I was your destiny."

Cupid ducked his head, looking embarrassed. "When he said that to me, centuries ago, I thought he was mad. But he understands things about the heart, about passion and love and need, that no other god comprehends as fully." Then he grinned. "And he has a great imagination. Come along, my fledgling, and fly with me."

And he took my hand and pulled me into the air.

In art, Psyche is usually pictured with butterfly's wings.

May 2002