Ares. God of war, bloodlust, and reckless courage. A child born of the Queen and King of the Olympus and a shareholder of the 12 thrones of the Olympians.

The very same god that stood in front of you, holding out a helmet of pure black metal (courtesy of Hephaestus) and a Celestial bronze spear that shined almost as bright as Apollo and Helios combined.

It was a dowry. For you from him. A bride price to be his consort.

His eyes, a deep red color of the same blood that soaked his shield and covered his hands, bore into yours. A smile curled upward on his lips, revealing the sharp tooth of his upper mouth. And his head tilted to one side, eager to hear what your response would be to such beautiful deadly gifts.

As a minor god/goddess, you were... delirious? Perhaps this might be a mistake? You knew of his affairs with Aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty, and the warriors he had raised from both Amazons and Spartans mortals alike. He created, watched, and danced amongst the battle of men and their kingdoms. They say the Scythians would sacrifice hundreds of soldiers in his name, for they believed such souls were analogous to such a menacing god.

Yet nothing came out of your lips. Nothing was said much besides a small 'oh' when he had cornered you in the garden of Hera on Mount Olympus. Silence filled the air, creating a tension so thick it could be easily sliced with the spear.

It did not help that he had done so in front of his father, Zeus, and queen mother, Hera, who watched from the other side of the garden. Nymphs and attendees also stared, though they did not dare make it known. What trickery this was! To do so before the very eyes of the Queen and King of Olympus!

"What do you say?" Ares pushed, his arms outstretched with the weapon and shield to be handed over to your hands. His voice carried a sense of trepidation as if he was daring you to decline him. "Will you accept these offering?"