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Language:
English
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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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Published:
2020-11-05
Completed:
2009-03-27
Words:
6,372
Chapters:
5/5
Comments:
6
Kudos:
19
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4
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3,650

Quartet the Younger Years

Summary:

Snippets covering the early years of the young Gods from Innocence Lost

Chapter 1: Chapter 1

Notes:

This fic was unexpected, but my BEAT's kept feeding the bunnies.

Chapter Text

Ares was taking the opportunity to catch up on petitions from his priests and followers; none of the petitions were as genuine as Joxer’s had been. Ares knew the importance of War when it was for the greater benefit of Greece. It angered him when people would only pray to him to get revenge or for pure greed.

The only thing that was stopping him from throwing a fireball at the table with all the petitions was the fact that Cyrus was playing nearby with his small warrior models that one of the city carpenters from Corinth had made. Cyrus turned to see his father looking at him as Ares patted his knee. Cyrus dropped the warrior dolls and toddled over with his arms outstretched. As he reached Ares he was picked up in his father’s large, strong arms as he was lifted onto his lap. As soon as Cyrus was seated he wrapped his arms around his father’s neck.

Joxer and Ares had agreed that each of their children would spend time with each of them as they attended to their godly duties, except when Ares had to actually go to the battlefield.

Ares lent forward to kiss his son on his forehead to be met with a squeal, “Ewwww, daddy ucky kisses,” his young son giggled.

Ares laughed heartily; since the birth of the twins and his joining with Joxer he felt, for the first time in his long life, contentment. Whilst he had other children, he was never able to be directly involved in raising them. Whilst he helped with Cupid and Anteros, they were still living with Dite and Heph and although they both went out of the way to include Ares, it wasn’t the same as to waking up to the sounds of laughing children.

Cyrus got himself comfortable on his father’s lap looking for a parchment to draw pictures on; his chubby, little arms reached forward just as Ares quickly moved them out of the way.

“Daddy, when nanty Dite kisses me, she makes me smell all ucky flowers.”

Ares laughed at his son’s announcement, “Cyrus, I promise not to make you smell like ucky flowers. Do you want to help me? I have a really important mission for you……Now you see all these parchments. They are from people who pray to me. I need you to pick important ones for me so I can answer them.”

At the thought of helping his father Cyrus fidgeted happily as he began to reach for parchments, before passing them to his father he would have a look at them. Ares smirked at the sight of his son trying to read them whilst holding them upside down or on their side. With Cyrus’s help the task became much more pleasurable.

By the time the table was clear Cyrus looked pleased with himself and looked into the dark brown eyes of his father, “Daddy, can yous twain me to use awooow like Bliss and Coopid use pwese?”

Ares hugged his son gently, “Sure little warrior, Uncle Heph has just made some special arrows for you, but you still have to be extra special careful and only use them when me or daddy Joxer is with you….ok?”

Cyrus wrapped his small arms around his father’s neck, “K Daddy, luves you.”

Ares pushed his chair back, as he stood he picked his son up by his ankles and carried him out to the garden at the back of his Olympian Temple earning him an earful of his son’s giggling and squealing.

Once they were outside, Ares materialised the special arrows that his brother had made for him. As Ares was putting the quiver of arrows on Cyrus his son asked, “Daddy will I be a warrior like you when I get big?”

Ares looked down at his son, “Cyrus, you are the son of War and Justice, you are part of us both, but when you grow up you can be what you want, but don’t forget you are a god yourself.”

His son replied, “Daddy, what is I a god of?” Ares thought hard about answering his son. Although they were only five years old, Cyrus and Hypatia were filled with unusual questions. Ipecles didn’t have any better luck; at a packed banquet Heron decided to ask his father how babies were made.

“Cyrus you are the God of Destiny,” Ares explained kindly.

Hearing a new word Cyrus tilted his head to the side, “What that mean?”

Ares sat on the ground next to his son, “Well, before you were born, Daddy Joxer was one of my followers. He would travel with your big sister Xena and a horrible woman called Gabrielle. Your Daddy really liked Gabrielle, but it wasn’t his Destiny to be with her. His destiny was to marry me and be your and Hypatia’s daddy, you make special things happen.”

Cyrus looked wide eyed at his father; happy knowing that he was so important. “I do, I have bestest daddies.”

A lump came to Ares’s throat; he knew that at such a young age a child needed to know of their importance and how cherished they were. Ares vowed never to turn out as his father had done.

The rest of the morning was spent with Cyrus practicing with his bow. His big brothers, Cupid and Anteros, were teaching him how to fly, along with Heron. Cyrus happily showed his proud father what he could do.

After an enjoyable morning Ares led his son to the clear stream to freshen up; whilst they could do it easily with a wave of his hand, Joxer and Ares had decided not to allow their children to rely on their godhoods. As Ares lent forward to splash water on his face Cyrus brought his wings back and brought them forward sending a wave of water over his shocked father. With water dripping from his brown curly hair Ares turned to his son. “Ahhh, so that is how you want to play.”

After they were both soaking wet Ares surrendered to his son, with a wave of his hand Ares dried them both off. “Come on you little terror, time to meet Uncle Ipecles for lunch.”

“Yahhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!” Cyrus cried out. Ares picked up his son and sat him on his shoulders as they walked back inside the temple towards the portal leading to the Royal Apartments.