SquidgeWorld Archive

Clouds of Olympus
by Caroline Crane
caroline_crane@hotmail.com

Strife didn’t remember to clean the blood off until he flashed into Aphrodite’s throne room and found his aunt wrinkling her dainty nose at him. At first he wasn’t sure what her problem was, then he glanced over at Cupid and saw the gleam in his cousin’s eye as he raised one blond eyebrow. "Sorry, Aunt ‘Dite," he said, cleaning his clothes and face with a wave of his hand.

She waved off the apology and glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the hall that led to the living quarters. "Did you get anything out of Joxie’s father before you…did whatever you did?"

Strife couldn’t help grinning at her expression, but he pulled himself together as quickly as he could and glanced over at Cupid. "I asked him a bunch a stuff, but he didn’t know a whole lot."

"Yeah," Cupid chimed in. "It was the weirdest thing, like he didn’t even know what we were talking about."

"Well you can’t expect him to just admit to murdering a poor, defenseless orphan."

Cupid shrugged and glanced at Strife before turning back to his mother. "I don’t know, Mom, he seemed pretty impressed with himself for torturing his kids when they were little. I mean he kept going on about how he should have killed Joxer back when he was a little kid and saved himself a whole lot of trouble. I think he said something about drowning him and his brother Jace when they were born. He said if he’d known how they were gonna turn out he would have."

Aphrodite had begun turning a little green when Strife appeared, but now the vague disgust was replaced with an anger that few people ever saw in the Goddess of Love. "You’re never to repeat that in front of Joxie. Ever. Don’t even say it if you think there’s a chance he might hear you, understand?"

"You really think his father didn’t say those things to him?" Cupid asked.

"I don’t care. The point is he’s gone now, and Joxer never needs to hear those things again. He is gone, isn’t he?"

"Yeah, took care of him per Unc’s orders," Strife answered, his grin returning at the memory of the old man’s last few moments on Earth.

Aphrodite cleared her throat and glanced over her shoulder again as though she was worried that Joxer might have woken up already and wandered out to listen. "Did he say anything useful before he died?"

"Well that’s the funny thing," Cupid chimed in. "He wouldn’t admit to killing Timo, or even to having him killed. You’d think he’d want to brag about something like that, especially feeling the way he did about…" He trailed off and glanced in the direction of the guestrooms before turning back to his mother and lowering his voice. "He remembered Joxer having a boyfriend, and he admitted to threatening to kill them both. He swore he didn’t go through with it, though."

"Yeah, he even said he had Jett look for the kid, but he never could find him. Nobody ever saw him again after Jox took off," Strife added. "I know he was tellin’ the truth, I checked. I searched his mind but there was nothin’. He never laid eyes on any kid named Timo."

A small sigh escaped Aphrodite’s throat but she ignored the questioning looks from her son and nephew, squaring her shoulders and pushing a wayward curl away from her face. "Cupie, do me a favor and go sit with Joxie for awhile, will you? I don’t want him to wake up alone and wonder where he is. Strife, you better go check in with Ares. Zeus knows he’s been bent out of shape about all the time you’ve been spending over here lately. I’ve got someone I need to see, I’ll be back as soon as I can."

Before either of them had a chance to answer she was gone, leaving the two gods blinking at the spot where she’d been standing a moment ago.

~

If anyone had dared to enter the House of War at that moment they would have found it even darker than usual, and if they had any sense at all they would have turned around and walked right back out again. The air itself was heavy, laden with a brooding energy that could only come from a malcontented God of War. A cursory glance around the throne room would have found it empty, another sure sign that something was wrong with Ares. Unless he was asleep or having sex he was generally in his throne room during business hours, at least when he was actually on Olympus and not in the mortal realm overseeing a battle.

He knew no one would dare to look for him, no matter how curious they were about why he’d suddenly shown such a strong interest in Joxer. So he didn’t worry about anyone finding him in his bedroom, sprawled in the only chair and scowling at the wall in front of him. He held a flat red stone in his hand, rubbing the careworn surface between his thumb and forefinger. A piece of crumpled, yellowed parchment sat on the table next to him, but he didn’t worry about anyone wandering in and finding him brooding over a fifteen-year-old note. Anyone that knew him knew his private chambers were off limits, and anyone that happened to stumble in unawares wouldn’t be leaving in one piece.

If he’d stopped to think about what he was doing he would have felt a little silly, he might have even convinced himself to finally get rid of the only evidence of his deepest secret. It wasn’t as though he needed the note anymore, he’d memorized it years ago. He didn’t even need to keep it to feel close to Joxer, because all he had to do if he wanted to check on him was pay a visit to Xena. It didn’t even matter that she thought he was trying to annoy her back into his service, in fact it was better that Xena didn’t question the reason for Ares’ visits.

So he didn’t need the note, but he’d never once thought about getting rid of it. Even during his most hopeless moments, when he was sure that Joxer was in love with that twit Gabrielle, he’d never thought about throwing away the one piece of their past that he still had.

Killing that mortal that had tried to choke Joxer – that had been satisfying. More than satisfying, it was the first time in a long time that killing had felt like more than going through the motions. He still enjoyed a good battle as much as he ever did, but it was more about the skill of fighting than the actual death count. But tossing that mortal and listening to the crunch of bones as his spine shattered had been almost stimulating. Until he’d looked down and seen Joxer lifeless at his feet, and all the battle lust had flooded out of him. After that all he’d felt was a blind panic, and he hadn’t even stopped to think about how any of it must look to his family.

Now, of course, that was all he could think about, and he was almost sure they knew more than they were letting on. Aphrodite definitely knew something, although whether she knew specifics or she was guessing he couldn’t say. He’d learned over the years not to underestimate Strife, either, because if nothing else his nephew had a talent for sniffing out a lie that could lead to trouble for someone. Ironically Cupid would be the easiest of all of them to convince that there was nothing going on, but even that was probably impossible now. Cupid had seen him throw that man across the yard and shatter his spine, and he’d seen the way Ares lifted Joxer into his arms.

They’d both be back by now, which meant they knew exactly where he’d taken Joxer. So there was a good chance than whatever spin he put on the situation was just going to make them more curious, and no amount of damage control was going to save him. He could just order them all to let the situation be, but he knew how much weight his orders carried with his sister and even his son. Strife was the only one he could terrorize into letting the subject drop, and he wasn’t even sure if that would work this time.

He’d made the mistake of letting them see his single vulnerability, and even though they hadn’t put all the pieces together yet it wouldn’t be long before they did. So the only thing he could do was stay as far away from Joxer as possible and hope that none of them said anything about Ares’ role in all of this. If one of them told Joxer their theories on Ares’ involvement it would all be over, because there was no way Ares could stop them all from putting the pieces together.

Part of him wanted them to figure it out. He’d never admit it, maybe not even to himself, but he felt his heart leap every time he imagined Joxer finally realizing the truth. Maybe he’d be so overjoyed to hear that Timo wasn’t dead that he’d forget all the betrayal, forget the years of misery and realize that it meant they could be together again. And they could, because Ares was War and he could take whatever consort he chose. No one would speak against his choice, at least not if they valued their life. The thought was so wonderful that he found himself actually entertaining going to Joxer and telling him the truth before any of the others had the chance, but as soon as he realized what he was thinking he dismissed the idea as ridiculous.

There was no way he could confess the truth now, not after he’d let Aphrodite tell Joxer that Timo was dead. Maybe before that, maybe if he’d gone to Joxer and told him that he couldn’t stand to keep quiet anymore. If he’d confessed the truth even a week ago it might have been different, but now it was too late and there was nothing he could do to take any of it back. Even if he managed to convince Joxer that he hadn’t meant for things to get so out of hand it would never be the same again; they’d never be those two boys with no one else in the world except each other.

Except even that was a lie, he reminded himself harshly as he stood up and picked up the note. He glanced down at it and let out a barely audible sigh, dropping it back in its drawer and setting the stone on top of it again. He felt someone enter his hall as he closed the drawer, and he pulled himself together and pasted a menacing scowl on his face before he flashed into his throne room.

"What?" he growled when he found Strife sitting at the long stone table at the center of the room, his feet propped up and his hands folded over his chest.

"Nothin’," Strife answered, his grin fading as he caught the dangerous expression on his uncle’s face. "I work here, remember? Mischief? House ‘o War?"

"I know who you are," Ares muttered. He resisted the urge to look away, crossing his arms over his chest and squaring his shoulders before he changed the subject. "Did you take care of the situation?"

"What…oh, ya mean Jox’s old man. Yeah, sure, Unc. He’s dealin’ with Uncle Hades now. Ya don’t hafta worry ‘bout him anymore."

Strife grinned again and Ares got the distinct impression that he wasn’t telling Ares everything. He glared at the younger god for a few more minutes, then finally gave up and let out a sigh. "Fine, go do…whatever it is you do. Just get out of my sight."

"Sure, no problem. I’m gonna go see if Cupe wants help watching Jox."

Ares opened his mouth to ask what Strife was talking about, but he caught himself before the words escaped his mouth. Instead he snapped his jaw shut and watched Strife flash out of the room, frowning at his nephew’s expression. There were several things wrong with the brief conversation they’d just had, starting with the fact that Strife hadn’t asked why Ares was suddenly so concerned about Joxer. Usually his nephew was too curious for his own good, and he rarely exercised the kind of self-control Ares had just seen. Which meant that Strife knew something, but Ares had no way of knowing what without coming right out and asking. Ares sighed again and sank onto his throne to brood, forcing thoughts of Joxer out of his mind long enough to think of some way to fix the situation as quickly and painlessly as possible.

~

The first thing Joxer was aware of when he woke was that the ground underneath him seemed unreasonably soft. He'd heard stories of travelers wandering into fairy glens and falling asleep on inviting-but-enchanted fields of clover so soft that not even Xena could resist stopping to rest, but those were just stories. Fairies weren't real, and anyway he didn't remember wandering into unknown territory. In fact the last place he remembered was one he knew all too well, a place he never expected to see again after he fled fifteen years ago.

A memory of his father's menacing smile came rushing back, and he winced as he remembered strong hands closing around his throat. So that was it – he was dead, and somehow he'd found some soft place in Tartarus to rest. He forced his eyes open in a show of bravery that he didn't feel in his heart, reaching out and making contact with something smooth and slick. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t dead after all, because he was pretty sure there was no silk in Tartarus.

"Hey there."

The honey-thick voice startled him and he sat up quickly, flushing the color of the rose drapes around the bed when the sheet fell down to reveal his bare chest. He didn’t remember getting undressed, in fact he didn’t remember anything after he found himself standing in front of his father for the first time since he left home. He definitely didn’t remember how he got out of his father’s yard with his life, never mind how he ended up in a soft bed covered in white silk and draped in pink curtains.

"C-Cupid?"

"Yeah. You feeling okay, Jox? You took a pretty nasty blow to the head when you hit the ground, I guess. Mom should have healed you, though. Maybe she missed a spot."

The winged god was frowning at him, and even though Joxer was fairly sure it was out of concern he couldn’t help being a little nervous. It certainly wasn’t every day that he woke up to find a god looming over him, let alone in an unfamiliar bed and missing his clothes. "Wh-where am I?"

A soft chuckle escaped Cupid’s throat, but it didn’t sound particularly menacing so Joxer managed to relax marginally. He wouldn’t really be surprised to find one of the pantheon making fun of him, but he was too rattled by the sudden change of scenery to worry about whether or not Cupid was laughing at him.

"You’re in one of Mom’s guestrooms. Pop brought you up here after he wasted that guy that was trying to choke you."

Joxer frowned as he watched Cupid settle on the end of the bed, his wings folded neatly behind him. He knew who Cupid’s father was, but it didn’t make sense that Ares would have killed one of his father’s men. It didn’t make any sense that Ares would have been there in the first place, and he couldn’t even begin to figure out why the god of War would have brought him to Aphrodite’s temple when he passed out. "Why…what was your father doing there?"

Cupid’s only answer was a shrug, then he grinned and stood up again. "Listen, I better go tell Mom you’re awake. She’s been freaking out, she’ll kill me if I don’t let her know right away."

Joxer nodded slowly, swallowing the urge to ask Cupid any more questions. So far the god had been perfectly friendly, but Joxer couldn’t help wondering how far he’d be able to push it before he upset someone. Just the fact that he was in one of Aphrodite’s temples set his nerves on edge, demanding answers from a member of the pantheon would definitely be detrimental to his health.

"Thank you," he murmured, although he wasn’t even sure what he was thanking Cupid for.

"No problem, Jox, you’re the most interesting thing going on in the mortal world lately." Cupid grinned again and disappeared, but a second later he reappeared in exactly the same spot. "I just have one question before Mom starts fussing over you and won’t let anybody near you."

"O-okay," Joxer stammered, his heart pounding too hard against his ribcage as he wondered what exactly Cupid found so interesting about him.

"Were you really gonna kill your dad?"

Joxer shrugged and looked down at the silk sheet still covering the lower half of his body. The truth was that he hadn’t really been thinking at all, but as soon as he remembered his words to his father he knew that he would have gone through with it. A shiver ran down his spine and he closed his eyes against a fresh wave of guilt and misery. Finally he remembered that Cupid was still waiting for an answer, and he forced his eyes open and looked up at the god. "I was willing to die trying."

For a second Cupid just stared at him, and Joxer squirmed uncomfortably under the almost palpable gaze. He was starting to wonder if he’d said the wrong thing, but he wasn’t about to lie to a god. Even if it was just Cupid, Joxer knew better than to think he could get a lie past a member of the pantheon. He wasn’t proud of the fact that he’d been willing to kill his own father, but he hadn’t been thinking beyond his grief at the time.

"Don’t worry, Strife took care of it for you," Cupid finally said, his smile twisting into something dark just for a split second. It looked so out of place on Cupid’s perfect features that Joxer wondered if he’d imagined it, but then Cupid grinned and shook his head. "I’m half House of War, remember? Take care, Jox."

Cupid disappeared again before Joxer could react, leaving him alone to wonder why Ares had bothered to save his life. None of it made any sense; Aphrodite he could understand, she’d always been kind to him. He’d given up trying to figure out why ages ago, and now he was just grateful for the fact that at least one of the gods thought he was worth something. He couldn’t understand what Cupid found so interesting about his situation, though, or why he’d been waiting for Joxer to wake up.

He pushed the sheet back and stood up, wrapping his arms around his chest self-consciously as he scanned the room for any sign of his clothes. There was a good chance that Aphrodite would appear at any second, and he really didn’t want her to find him wandering around her temple naked. Not that she’d probably think twice about it, but he was already embarrassed enough without adding that humiliation to his list.

After a cursory search of the room he gave up on finding his own clothes, but he did find a pair of what looked like silk pajamas folded neatly on a low bench at the foot of the bed. He unfolded them, noting the softness of the white silk between his fingers as he held them up. They looked about his size, and even if they weren’t meant for him it wasn’t as though he had a choice. Surely Aphrodite wouldn’t mind if he just borrowed them until he found out where his own clothes were. He took a deep breath to calm a rush of nerves and stepped into them, pulling the drawstring tight at his waist and tying them.

Once he was sort of dressed he felt better, and some of the tension began to leave him as he looked around the room again. The bed was huge and located directly in the center of the far wall. It was the only piece of furniture in the room, and the walls were decorated in tapestries. Most of them were illustrations of various famous love ballads, but one of them Joxer recognized as a portrait of Cupid as a baby. The idea that any of the gods had ever been anything other than the imposing, awe-inspiring creatures they were right now was hard to visualize, but Joxer knew that most of them had started as godlings at some point long before he was born.

There were heavy curtains draped over the center of the wall opposite the bed, and Joxer frowned as he realized for the first time that there was a tiny stream of light seeping into the room from under the curtains. He’d always assumed that the orgy rooms in Love’s temples were underneath the main part of the temple, but he must be in a bedroom on the main floor, probably behind the altar. He’d never attended any of the orgies at Aphrodite’s temples, but he’d heard enough stories from the mortals that were occasionally invited to know that they must have taken him far from Araxova.

Slowly he reached up and pushed the curtains back, expecting to find himself looking out over Athens or even Crete. What he saw made his heart skip a beat, and he grabbed the windowsill to keep himself from falling to the marble floor underneath him. The room he was in appeared to be a few floors up, either that or the building itself was floating several stories about the ground. It was hard to tell because he wasn’t sure if he could trust his eyes. Every time he tried to focus long enough to see where the building ended and the ground began his vision would cloud, almost as though the scene in front of him was fluid somehow. He shook his head and looked out over the horizon again, his eyes wide as he took in what appeared to be a series of paths paved in gold. As far as he could tell they led into the clouds hovering just above the ground, although it didn’t really look like any ground he’d ever seen before. The whole scene felt almost dreamlike, and he began to wonder if maybe he’d hit his head harder than he thought.

He was still staring out the window when a hand landed on his arm, and he jumped and turned too fast, nearly knocking Aphrodite to the floor. "Whoa, calm down, Joxie. It’s just me," she said, smiling as she watched him blush.

"I’m sorry, Aphrodite, you startled me. I was just…I mean this is…where are we?"

"My place, of course," she answered, gesturing vaguely at the room behind him. "Couldn’t you tell from the décor?"

"Well yes, but I mean…this isn’t one of your temples, is it?"

"My temples? Nope, Ares brought you straight here when he found you. Tucked you in himself. This is the House of Love."

"So…this is…I mean…"

"Geez, Joxie, it’s not that big a deal." She laughed but her tone was gentle, and he smiled sheepishly in spite of his confusion. "We’re on Olympus, alright. Not many mortals come up here, never know how they’re gonna react. But I figured you were pretty safe, and I guess Ares did too. Besides, you’ve just been in my guestroom the whole time."

"How long have I been here?"

"Since yesterday. You’ve been asleep for almost a day, I guess the whole thing with your dad took a lot out of you." She stopped talking and bit her lip, wringing her hands nervously as she turned to face him. "Joxie, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have just let you leave after I told you…"

"It’s not your fault," he interrupted, guilt making him forget that interrupting a god was never a good idea. He turned to look out the window again, the heartache he’d managed to forget during his confusion rushing back.

"We used to talk about Olympus," he said half to himself. "When we were kids, before…I guess I always loved him, but before I knew it we used to lie in the grass and talk about everything. I always wondered if Olympus was higher than the clouds. Timo…he used to say that someday we’d find a way to see it together."

"Did you guess right?" Aphrodite asked, smiling gently when he glanced at her.

"Guess right?"

"About the clouds."

"It’s funny," he answered, returning her smile unconsciously. "It looks exactly the way Timo always described it."

end