Ares, the god of war, the god associated with the term bloodlust in battles, the one who can kill with just a glance now finds himself at the feet of the goddess of love, kneeling before her as he holds her delicate foot in his large, hard hand, massaging it with surprising gentleness considering his strength. His Spartan helmet sat next to her, revealing his black curls and his powerful face covered in battle scars.

the scene could have been considered comical by some gods, a selfish and cruel man like Ares bent over by a simple pout from the goddess already married to the blacksmith god but he couldn't care less, all that mattered was being able to see the smile on her tender lips again

"I'm sorry my love.." he whispered keeping his head low, while his hands continued his magic "I won't be late anymore,I promise."