Acknowledgements: Mikal the Ram for the first lines of "Loki's Song"
Archive: Sure. Just tell me where.
Archive Date: February 14, 2001
Author's Webpage: http://www.geocities.com/lady_aethelynde
Category: Crossover, vignette, PoV. Think of this as a monologue.
Disclaimer: Whatcha gonna do when Rob Tapert & Sam Raimi's
war god decides he wants to play in George Lucas' universe?
Feedback: I crave it. It's my favorite high.
Rating: PG-13 for homoerotic implications
Summary: Ares teaches Luke a few things about darkness.
Warnings: Slash, bloodplay, mindfucks, implied incest.
You can't move. Oh, but being a god has its perks. Now, let me see you. Very nice. Too many clothes, though. I like the black, but it's in the way. Much better.
I do have such a weakness for blonds. Dear 'Dite, my ditzy sister. Her son, that annoying twit with the arrows. My pesky half-brother's little mortal hunter. But you, oh you're perfect.
You're mine. I could feel you clear across the galaxy. I can feel your anger, your lust for power. It sits right... here. Your chest is so warm, but you're breathing too hard. Calm, my little warrior. Some things don't change, no matter where I go. I'm not sure where I am. It looks a little like Egypt. I went there with Caeser, you know. But the stars are all wrong. I can see so much more than this sandy place in your mind. In one of those places, the people will build me a temple and I will be worshipped again. Good enough for now.
And who is this dark warrior who strides through your nightmares, causing you loss and grief? Father? Really? Now he could be interesting. Obviously one of mine, even in this place where my name is unknown. Even here, I am followed, if not known; here where you fight with swords of light instead of steel. Oh, you're sweet, my boy.
Shhh, I haven't hurt you badly, just a scratch on your cheek. See? Here, I'm cleaning it up. Your blood is sweet, mortal, like you. You are mine. Born to war.
"I was born in battle's fire and laid beside my mother's corpse."
That's you, my sweet one. You were. You can't remember, but I can see it all in those cloudy infant chambers of your mind. Easy, boy. That's just my tongue again. I could hold you here forever, tasting your salt-sweat, drinking it like the best wine.
A tear? Ah, bitter frustration and anger, so tasty. It must gall you to be held so: wrapped in my arms, which your mortal strength cannot hope to move.
Ahhh. Now that's interesting, Who is your hot-tempered, fast-shooting friend? Oho, more than just a friend. He's the one you're building the lightsword to save, is he?
Yes, you'll go, and you'll butcher the crime-lord and his hangers-on. You'll stride to where he hangs, all stony and cold, and make the magics that will release him. He'll tumble into your arms, and when he comes to, he'll kiss you ever so gratefully.
Then, the two of you will go and kill your father, and his king. And you'll rule the stars with him at your side, won't you? Or will it be at your feet? And you have the nerve to say you're not mine, Skywalker?
Oh, yes, I know your name. Very apt. You walk through the sky in your ships that travel in air instead of water and you'll stride across the stars, making them your own. Where I come from, flight is for the gods.
So your green-eyed/grey-eyed love hasn't taken you yet? What a sin. Or perhaps not. A blond virgin sacrifice to the war-god. Mmmmmm.
You're all right. I didn't break the skin that time. I just broke it here, though. Your blood is the exact color of Spartan wine, and far more satisfying. Oh, that's right, you've never heard of Sparta.
You'd be very popular there, Luke, the warrior-mystic. Luke. A good Greek name. Do you know it means "light?" My brother drove the chariot of the sun across the sky each day. Are you his? I don't care if you are. I've bested him before.
Light has nothing on my darkness. Can you see me, my sweet? Right there, in that pretty bronze mirror I just conjured. Don't we look nice together? All light and dark, smooth and rough. Such a contrast. Yet, you're mine because light is nothing without dark for contrast.
Hold still, I'm going to kiss you. Oh, that's right, you don't really have a choice, do you? Those lips of yours. So soft. Oh, your friend has done this, has he? An ice cave...and how you warmed it up saying farewell. Lucky man. Lucky, lucky man.
You're waking up now, my sweet boy. Remember me. Men die, cattle die, worlds die, even the gods die. But as long as you remember, I live.
And as long as I live, I will return to you. A last kiss. Finish your sword. Remember.