AresJoxerCupidStrife - Raven

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

TITLE: Welcome To My Nightmare 1/?
SERIES: Rest and Restitution (Sequel to Dark Side of the Rainbow Bridge)
AUTHOR: Raven4 ( arcadian13_2000@y... )
ARCHIVE: Feel free, just let me know where, eh?
RATING: NC 17
PAIRINGS: Eris/M?, Freya/M?
WARNINGS:
1. Incest ahead. It's just as hard to avoid incest in any mythological pantheon as it is in Heinlein. Being that they're gods, I tend to look at their inter-relationships with the SSC rule. Safe, Sanitary, and Consensual. If this squicks you, don't read it.
2. Non-Consensual sex ahead. Just a warning.
3. Dead gods ahead. Just a warning.
4. Not so much Strife in this one. More Eris and Freya.

DISCLAIMER: Strife isn't mine. Herc and Xena original characters belong to Ren Pics and Flat Earth Prods. As far as folks like Freya, Ares, Hades, and Eris? They're public domain. Bite me. I'm theirs', just ask 'em.
NOTES: Here we go again. This is the first installment of a sequel series to Dark Side of the Rainbow. This one may be a bit darker at times, but I'm planning out some humor as well. More Eris in this one. Nyx, this is for you and your lord, from Pheles.
Feedback is good, it let's me know that I haven't alienated everybody on the list.
No gods were actually harmed during the making of this fanfic.

SUMMARY: Two goddesses seek solitude for a nap.


"Ow, dammit, that's attached." Cupid cursed. Strife giggled and was pounced by his irate lover. "I'll teach you to yank on other people's feathers."

Freya perched on the gilded branch Strife had hung by his window for her and watched through the black gauzy curtains as her lord and his lover got it on for the third time that day. Absence made the heart grow fonder, and if the gods' behavior was proof, it made the cock get harder as well. Her boys couldn't stay off each other for an hour at a time.

Under the mask of Munin that covered her, she grinned. Strife had Cupid on his knees now and was hammering into the golden god while gripping his wings at the base. The rhythm of their lovemaking was familiar. Stifling a chuckle, Freya began to croak the tune of a popular tavern song to the sound of the lover's coupling.

"Ahkkk!" She cawed, ducking a well-thrown boot. She did chuckle then, meeting the nearly identical glares of the two gods entwined on the bed.

"D'ya mind?" Strife inquired, raising one eyebrow. Freya chortled and fluttered out the window. It was all right. She had already siphoned enough off their spare energy to survive for months at her current rate of power expenditure.

She winged her way to the other side of Olympus, leaving the Hall of War with it's half wild gardens, passing over the cloying blossoms of Aphrodite's realm, until she reached an overgrown and untended forest area. It was the ruin of an abandoned temple estate.

She had found it just after Strife's resurrection, while searching for a safe place to drop the illusion of Munin's body for a few minutes. She had wondered what an abandoned temple was doing on Olympus, but it was as good a place as any to come and be herself. Since then she came here often, and never saw so much as a bunny rabbit.

With a weary sigh, she landed on the moss-covered root of a willow tree near a forgotten fountain. She shrugged out of Munin's body and stretched, then sank wearily to the ground. Flying about as Munin was not strenuous for a well-fed god, but for one, who was living on the barest possible energy scraps, it was tiring.

Having Strife and Cupid constantly fucking was a great source of consumable energy, but even two entities as strong and in love as they were couldn't satisfy her from afar. She needed a more personal feeding and that wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

Slowly she rolled over on the soft moss to study her reflection in the fountain. How the other goddesses would have laughed could they see her now. Her skin was pale, almost gray from her time spent hidden under Munin's wings and in the Underworld. Her once hip-length, flame colored hair, the shining jewel of her meadhall was cropped close to her head and grown dingy with lack of care.

She was gaunt now, she knew. Indeed, in comparison to her former plump ripeness she seemed almost emaciated to her own eyes. How else could she fit so easily into the leathers of the now living mischief god. There were shadows under her cheeks and at her temples, and the skin around her eyes was darker. Only her eyes remained unchanged. They were still the perfect blue of the Northern summer sky.

"So much for the goddess of love and beauty." She chuckled to her reflection. "Haggard and untouched."

Grinning she stretched out by the fountain to rest, enjoying the sun on the borrowed leather suit. Just a short nap in her human form, and then back into the bird.

Eris wandered aimlessly through her Uncle's garden. She often came here when the weight of her family's observation was more than she could take. She'd been coming here for solace since the long forgotten days when Hades had actually kept a temple here. She could remember when this garden had been as neatly kept as any in Olympus, but the family had gotten to be too much for him too.

She wondered if she would retreat one day. Abandon Olympus and retire to some hidden realm where she could just be a goddess, rather than being Mad Eris, or Wild Eris, or Slut Eris, or even Cruel Eris. On days like today, Eris understood her uncle's decision to let his Olympian temple rot very well. She'd have done the same, and might yet.

But she hadn't visited Hades abandoned estate in weeks. She'd been too busy watching her sons. She'd always watched them from the shadows, only actually speaking with Jopanis. Then Jopanis had been killed.

"And they call me crazy." She snorted to a willow tree. The tree didn't answer. She had gone to Zeus to get Strife brought back. No big deal, she'd thought. Hercules and Ares got people out of Hades all the time. But*

"No." Zeus said simply and turned to the next petition.

"Right, so*. What?!" Ares stammered. The king of the gods raised his head to regard his son in irritation.

"I said, No." He repeated. The war god's eyes bulged and Zeus turned back in his chair, settling himself for the inevitable outburst. "I will not let Strife return from Hades, nor will histrionics on your part affect that."

The assembled gods stared at him in shock. No one had believed that the annoying godling would stay dead. It was unheard of, for a god to be killed. Athena approached her father.

"But think, Mighty Zeus," she murmured softly. Zeus waved her warning aside without hearing it.

"Anyone who strikes against the host of Olympus dies. And any god who gets too involved in back stabbing politics can suffer the consequences."

Ares leapt to his feet as Athena withdrew. It was true, the blonde pretender to godhood was, indeed, dead, as was the freak called Dahok, but it seemed an awfully costly victory.

"He was only doing his job!" The War God shouted. "He was playing a necessary role in War's council and that crazy bitch killed him. If you need to punish somebody, punish me!"

"Next petition!" Zeus rolled his eyes. Hera stared at her husband, about to interrupt, when Eris stepped out from the crowd. A long flowing robe of pale gray covered her from neck to ankle. It was bound with cords of pure gold and similar cords bound her beautiful hair. She was pale, but composed as she approached her fathers' throne from the line of supplicants that had waited to see him.

"Why, Eris." Her mother exclaimed. "You look*lovely."

The entire pantheon stared in shock as Eris made formal obeisance to her father and mother before approaching the thrones.

"I have a petition." She whispered softly. Her face was blank, like one dead. But when she raised her eyes, they flashed green fire. Ares jaw was on the ground. His wild, intractable sister was being so formal and correct that it made his face hurt.

Zeus waved at her to continue. She bowed and joined her hands in front of her like a votaress or a priest.

"I, your daughter Eris, have come before you in the posture and garb of a supplicant, to beg of you the return of my son." She looked up into Zeus stern face, and her voice broke, her green eyes luminous with tears. "Please, Papa. I*"

Zeus eyes closed tightly and he heaved a big sigh.

"No." He said at last. "I will not. I am king and I keep my own counsel."

"Please, Father." Ares began and his voice was joined by others.

"Silence!" Zeus thundered and started going on about consequences. Eris had already tuned him out, sinking down onto the cold marble floor; her empty eyes fixed on nothing. Her baby wouldn't be coming back. Silent tears ran down her slack cheek as Eris felt Zeus leave his chambers.

"What of the consequences of your actions, father?" She whispered to the floor. "Who lives with them?"

"But my father's actions were part of his plan." Eris whispered to the willow trunk. "He brought my baby back and gave Uncle Hades and Aunt 'Sephe their fondest wishes as well."

"It's 'Dite's stupid-ass idea to talk to plants." Eris said at last. "She said it might help. As if. Still, this place is relaxing." She smiled at the willow just a little. "More secluded than anywhere else."

The lovely goddess curled herself into the soft moss under the willow. There was the sound of running water from somewhere in the background and she allowed it to lull her to sleep.

No birds sing in the vale of Death, no little animals scamper under cover of the overgrown gardens. The only movement is the sway of trees in wind, and even that is subdued. In this still green haven, Eris began to dream.

She was in her own chambers in the hall of war, just down the hall from Strife and Ares. Her room looked just as it always did and yet, she felt uneasy. She walked over to her twisted iron vanity and sat down to brush her hair. Looking in the large, ornate silver mirror, she watched as her face shifted into another.

She'd have said he was a stranger, but she could never forget those eyes. Her dream self staggered back from the mirror, falling backwards off her bench.

"Hello, little goddess." His voice was the same, and she screamed as he crawled through the mirror. "Did you miss me?"

Rage boiled up in her and erupted through her fist in a punch that would have leveled a temple. She saw it impact, she saw his nose break, but Loki of Asgaard only laughed and licked at his own blood with a blackened tongue.

"Now this is familiar*" He pursed his brow thoughtfully; mad yellow eyes fixed on her where she'd fallen. She was frozen, like a rabbit in the gaze of a serpent as he knelt down over her slowly, grinning a bloody smile. His black tongue swiped across his gray lips again, both staining with the blood that was leaking from his nose. "Oh yes, I remember, it tastes like you on the night that we shared you, Frey, Odin and I."

He ran a hand up her thigh and she screamed again, kicking out to drive the toe of her boot into his throat. He fell away from her and she scrambled to her feet, running toward her chamber door. She yanked open the portal and there was Ares, dear Ares, who'd rescued her from Loki before. Eris threw herself into her brother's arms and he held her tightly against his chest, then pushed her to arms length looking over her shoulder, his hands gripping her arms with bruising strength.

"Aren't you done yet?" Ares demanded of the sprawled figure behind her and her heart turned to ice as he spun her around. Loki was grinning and wiping his mouth.

"I thought I'd save you a piece." The Asgaardian chuckled as he approached. "After all, fair is fair. You were gonna give me a little head?"

Ares laughed and tossed something at Loki's feet, and Eris began to scream again. Over and over, she shrieked at full volume, staring into the lifeless eyes of her Strife's severed head.

Freya twisted and writhed in her sleep as over and over again she re-lived the horrors of Ragnarok. The plain of Ida was thick with oily black smoke and the screams of men and monsters. She felt each blow as her friends and family died, and she heard each whispered "WHY?"

Then she was wandering, naked and bruised. Only a scrap of cloth draped over her, and try as she might, it would not cover her chilled flesh. She carried her favorite eating dagger, made by the Dark Elves in ages long passed. The blade was caked with drying blood, as was her arm to the elbow. The goddess stumbled through a maelstrom of Fire and smoke and ice and snow. She could see nothing in the madness.

In her hand she carried the head of the last god she'd killed. It was too dark to see who he had been, but he had attacked her in the whirling confusion of elements and battle. She figured she'd identify him later.

Freya staggered on, weak and weary, through fire, ice, darkness and wind until at last she found the Yggdrasil, the world tree. Surely in it's branches and hollows a girl could find shelter from the maelstrom. She pulled herself into a hole in its trunk with bloody fingers.

Here was warmth and a respite from the outside and she crawled into it gratefully, laying aside her dagger and gruesome burden.

"Who's there?" A voice rang out in the blackness and she sobbed with joy.

"Frey?" She gasped. "Can it be you?"

"Freya!" He exulted and she found his hand in the darkness. "Dear sister, let me touch you, for I cannot believe we have lived to see each other again."

Freya sobbed and laid her head against her brother's chest. He was warm and firm under her cheek, and Freya sobbed in the dream and in her sleep. Reaching out, she called for a light, but gentle Frey dissuaded her.

"Better not." He whispered, kissing her hair. "Best to wait out the storm and save energy." Freya nodded and the two huddled together for company and warmth. Soon, Freya felt Frey's hand slide over her back, caressing her thigh gently. She moaned in the close stillness of the small nest.

"I was so worried." He whispered against her ear, his tongue flicking her earlobe. "Beloved sister."

She turned against him and pressed her forehead to his chin.

"I thought you were dead." She whispered, then looked up in the darkness, unable to see his face. "I wanted to die too."

"No, dearest." He kissed her gently. "You must live. Through all of this you must live."

His mouth closed over hers', tongue diving between her lips, stroking in and out of her mouth.

"Oh, Frey." She moaned into his mouth. "Your mouth is bitter."

"It's only the smoke on my lips, sister." He whispered, slipping his knee between her legs and nibbling her neck where it joined her shoulder. She groaned and spread her legs wider, running her hands through his hair as he bent to suck one of her nipples.

"Oh Frey." She moaned. "Your hair is coarse."

"Sweat from the battle and the blood of the slain, sweet Freya." He murmured, taking position between her legs and stroking her sex with his fingers. She arched up underneath him, rejoicing in his long missed presence. His hands gripped her hips and he entered her in one smooth motion.

He rocked in and out of her body with short quick jerks and she moaned beneath him. They were the gods of love and beauty and had lain together since they were children, but even in the depths of summers' hottest night, Frey had never taken her so hard.

"My brother," she gasped "whence comes this strange vigor?"

A dark chuckle was her only answer and her belly turned to ice as the man plunged into her still harder, hurting her with his zeal. She raised trembling hands and called on her power to conjure light in the dark tree hollow. The light coalesced around her fingers just in time for her to watch Loki's face as he came.

Her insides were filled with acid from his cock and she cried out, doubling over in pain as the godkiller laughed.

"Feel it Freya, my beautiful bride." He chuckled, the illusion of beloved Frey's voice gone. "Feel the burn of me inside of you forever. We are the same, you and I, godkillers both."

He gestured and she followed his hand, her eyes falling on the head she'd taken on the field. Her brother, Frey's slack mouth accused her, his cold eyes flat with death. Freya screamed and her light went out as Loki began to thrust anew.

TITLE: Living Dead Girl 2/?
SERIES: Rest and Restitution (Sequel to Dark Side of the Rainbow Bridge)
AUTHOR: Raven4 ( arcadian13_2000@yahoo.com )
ARCHIVE: Feel free, just let me know where, eh?
RATING: NC 17
PAIRINGS: Strife/Cupid
WARNINGS:
1. More angst. Also, a fairly melodramatic goddess.
2. More Eris and Freya, with a quick appearance by DaddyCupid tm.

DISCLAIMER: Strife isn't mine. Herc and Xena original characters belong to Ren Pics and Flat Earth Prods. As far as folks like Freya, Ares, Hades, and Eris? They're public domain. Bite me. I'm theirs', just ask 'em.
NOTES: Here's the second segment of the sequel to Dark Side of the Rainbow. This one may be a bit darker at times, but I'm planning out some humor as well. More Eris in this one. It would appear that this series has decided to be named after shock rock songs.

Feedback is good, it let's me know that I haven't alienated everybody on the list.
No gods were actually harmed during the making of this fanfic.

SUMMARY: Mistaken identity and a discovery.


Eris awoke with a start. She'd assumed that the screaming she could hear in her mind was her own, but now she was awake and silent, and the screaming continued unabated. The Discordant goddess leapt agilely to her feet, graceful as a cat, and padded off towards the sound.

It was nearby, whatever it was. The hoarse screams were interspersed with heart broken sobbing and barely heard words. Eris shivered. The language was vaguely familiar somehow, unpleasantly so.

She was nearing the stream that flowed across Hades Olympian domain and the screaming had faded until only the sobbing remained. She recognized the words that surrounded them now. It was the elastic sounding language of the Norse. Eris snarled and raced toward the sound, skidding to a halt when she broke through the willow branches.

The young, redheaded Norseman was crawling on his belly, clawing up great fistfuls of earth and moss as he writhed, sobbing. Eris hissed like a cat and kicked him hard, rolling him onto his back. Her eyes locked on his face and her hiss became a snarl of rage as green lightening streaked from her fingertips to jolt into the Norse boy's body.

His back arched with the current and Eris grinned as the green fire danced along his bones, visible beneath his skin. She knew his face well. She thought Apollo had killed him for her. How could she not know this face? It had stared back at her for years from the body of her child, her Strife.

"Greetings, Frey Njordsson, coward of Alfheim." She sneered, showing teeth. "How nice to see you again."

The lightening ceased and she stepped towards the smoking youth. He regarded her blankly through slitted eyes as she knelt beside him on the scorched earth.

"My sibling killed you too quickly the last time." She chuckled. "I won't make the same mistake."

The singed form lay still against the moss. "Let's begin with what you did and allowed to be done to me, shall we?" Eris hissed and jolted the Norse god with more of her rage-green lightning. He made no sound, but his body screamed well enough.

"First." She murmured, crouching over his body and licking the tears from his blue eyes. "You will suffer, and then you will die."

The red-haired youth seemed to relax at her words, but she didn't notice. He was just as beautiful now as he had been centuries ago. His usual wool tunic was replaced with black leather. It made him look even more like her son. She stared, rage growing again. It was Strife's tunic.

"Did you think dressing like Strife would save you?!" She shrieked, her shaking fingers tangling in the leather at his throat. He said nothing, just looked at her with his half-lidded blue eyes. The calm weight in his eyes infuriated her. She wanted him to beg and cry. "Fine. I am your death, coward god. But first, I am your pain!"

She would do to him some of what had been done to her. She would break him and then she would kill him for abandoning her to his family's tender mercies. She tensed her muscles and shifted, ripping his stolen leather suit from neck to groin with one strong heave, then she stared, motionless, tattered leather shreds dangling from her numb fingers.

This was no Norseman. The torn leather over the loins revealed neither cock nor balls, but the softly furred lips and milky thighs of a woman. With the restrictive tunic shredded, soft white breasts capped with orangey peach nipples bobbled like ambrosia with each gasp from the red goddess' mouth.

In an instant, Eris knew her, though she'd seen her only rarely during the terrible months at Asgaard. This was not Frey, the unwilling rapist. This was Freya the lovely gazing back at her through half lidded eyes.

"Finish*" The Norse goddess croaked, her eyes pinning Eris' as she coughed some blood onto her pale perfect lips. Eris stared, stunned. The once lush figure was wasted and as pale as Strife. It didn't surprise Eris that she'd mistaken her for a boy. Her soft curves had wasted, diminishing into bony wiriness. Her beautiful red hair, once the envy of every goddess in Asgaard save Sif was gone. Eris was jolted from her shock by another croak from the singed goddess.

"Finish" she managed. Eris remembered the voice of Strife's new bird. "Finish m*"

Freya panted, trying to time her gasps with her mouth to be understood.

"I am*l-last one*" Eris shook her head and Freya grasped her wrist in one blistered hand. "Last."

Her breath rattled in her chest and she coughed, but did not relinquish her grip.

"Once gone." Freya struggled. "No one left. None know. Never happened. Never was."

Eris stared, tears trickling down her face at the ruined visage that had once been the kindest and most beautiful of the Asgaardians.

"Kill me." The goddess begged through bloodless lips. "Then all finished."

Freya's eyes were full of tears. It was more than past time. The triplets would be safe now. Ares and Zeus would see to that. This whole sordid tale could finally end.

"Finish me." She begged and then her sky blue eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed back onto the moss.

All of Olympus heard Eris cry of heartbreak.

How very odd. The woman thought to herself. She floated on black waters, warm and still. She knew she was a she. She could think. What did that mean? She swam lazily in the blood warm blackness. Her thoughts were sharpening, and she resisted them. She didn't want to think. She just wanted to float like this.

A frown marred her face. Was she dead? Gods, she hoped so. If this was death, it was nice, and it would never end. A tiny spark of curiosity flared in her breast. This was much nicer than Strife's death had been.

Thoughts of Strife made her frown harder. She didn't want to think about that. She fought to continue drifting, unaware, but it was a lost battle. She followed thoughts of Strife's death to thoughts of his resurrection and from there to thoughts of his mother.

She sat up with a jolt, only to gasp and fall back. Her body hurt. Everywhere. Soft hands pressed her back onto the silk. She was lying on silk. It was soft and warm. There was a voice, soft and low. Where was she?

"You need to lie still." It was a woman's voice. Was she back in Hades?

"Sephe?" She rasped. Her voice was as creaky as Munin's. If she wasn't dead, then she still had duties. Where was Strife? She had to protect him. Callisto was coming. She pushed against the hands that held her. "Strife! Have to save*have to*Strife."

"Hush." The voice murmured gently as she stilled in its grasp. She was too weak to resist. She was too tired to fight. "Strife is fine. You already saved him."

Freya relaxed. She just had time to feel glad and then puzzled before she was slipping back down. She hadn't failed then, but thinking was too hard, and the warm black waters were just within her reach, waiting for her. She didn't struggle as they closed over her head again.

This time, when Freya broke the surface of reality, she remembered who she was. She looked around blearily. Her eyes were fuzzy. She was lying on a soft bed. Covered with soft swan colored silk. Breathing hurt, but not nearly so badly as it had the last time she'd risen from the blackness.

She was in a small bedchamber. The bed she lay on was big enough for two, but only if they were very friendly. The sheets were silk and the coverlet was soft red velvet. The bedcurtains were red silk and velvet. The room was white marble. Across from the bed was an arch leading onto a terrace or balcony. It was curtained with more of the white silk, sheer and billowing in the breeze that wafted in from the sunny outside.

She heard the laughter of a child in the distance, as well as the crashing of waves and the singing of birds. The room was full of gently muted sunlight and the scent of ocean and olive tree. It was beautiful, and for a moment, she wondered yet again if she were dreaming or dead.

A giggling winged child raced by the arch on the terrace, followed by a larger winged figure. That figure strode back into her view, the wriggling child carried like a bag of fruit over its shoulder. It stopped and approached the curtain.

"So you decided to rejoin us, birdy?" Cupid used Strife's name for her as he came through the arch, a wiggling giggling Bliss in his arms. Freya looked up at him, confused.

"Where am I?" She rasped. "How did I get here?"

Cupid smiled at her and poured some nectar into a goblet, handing it to her. She drank deeply. It was cold and sweet. Crisp instead of cloying. She didn't recognize the fruit, but it was good. Freya drained the goblet, then looked at Cupid expectantly. He smiled.

"You're in a hidden temple." He poured his own glass of nectar. "It's kind of a vacation spot for those of us dear to the House of War."

Freya dropped her eyes, biting her lip, then wriggled to get out of the bed.

"Where's my Munin suit?" She asked, ignoring the stitch in her side as she sat groggily on the edge of the bed. "If this is War's house, he could come in at any moment. I need my suit before he sees me."

"Get back in bed, Freya." Cupid whispered gently. His sweet mouth was smoothed in a generous smile. "Who do you think carried you here in the first place?"

Freya stared at the young god. Surely he was mistaken. Strife must have carried her. If Ares had seen her, she would be dead, wouldn't she? A cold feeling settled into her belly as Cupid bundled her back into the airy silken bed. She'd already lived this long with the House of War after her blood. How long would she have to live if they no longer wanted it?

TITLE: We're Not Gonna Take It 3/?
SERIES: Rest and Restitution
AUTHOR: Raven4 ( arcadian13_2000@y... )
ARCHIVE: Feel free, just let me know where, eh?
RATING: PG
PAIRINGS: Strife/Cupid, Hades/Sephe/Morpheus
WARNINGS: Not many in this chapter.

DISCLAIMER: Strife isn't mine. Herc and Xena original characters belong to Ren Pics and Flat Earth Prods. As far as folks like Freya, Ares, Hades, and Eris? They're public domain. Bite me. I'm theirs', just ask 'em.
NOTES: Okay, ya'll. Here it is. Third in the series. It's all still Scorpio's fault. If you haven't read Dark Side of the Rainbow Bridge you're probably gonna be confused. <This signifies unspoken thoughts.>

Feedback is good, it let's me know that somebody's bothering to read this.

SUMMARY: Strife's family decides Freya has been isolated long enough, but the party heats up when a guest has too much to say.


"What happened?" Freya asked the winged god. Cupid only smiled at her. "Cupid, what happened?"

"Father and Aunt Eris had you healed." He murmured, brushing hair back from her face. Hair? She had hair? When had she grown hair again? It took too much energy, and she couldn't spare any for vanity. She turned her head and stared. Her hair was pooled on the sheet under her ass. It was as long as it had been on Asgaard. As long as it had been when Morpheus was still feeding her energy in Hades.

Shocked, she threw aside the blankets and looked down at her body. Her flesh was still wasted and thin, but the pallor of death had left her. Her beauty had been returned.

"Why?" She whispered.

"Because Freya the Lovely should live up to her name." Eris voice was soft, but it cut into the Norse goddess like ice. The red head whirled toward the sound. Her wide blue eyes fastened on Discord's smile in disbelief. She didn't even hear Cupid leave.

The goddess of Discord was accompanied by her handsome twin. They were both smiling at her. It made her nervous. She should be dead. Eris should have killed her. What the Hel was going on.

"Good to see you awake, and to finally meet you." Ares rumbled. "Freya the Lovely."

"Freya the lovely died with Asgaard." The Norse woman murmured, blushing. "Only Strife's servant Munin remains."

"And a trickier and more devious one I can't name." Strife strode into the room behind the returning Cupid. "Just perfect for me. How ya feelin', birdy?"

Freya just stared at him.

Eris settled onto the edge of the silken bed slowly. She moved with the careful deliberation one used when charming a wild animal.

"Strife told us how much you've done for us." She said softly. Freya glared at him. So much for anonymity. "Why didn't you come forward?"

"I had no business doing so. I am an Asgaardian." Freya answered ruefully. "If Strife had not died, I would still be in hiding."

"Why?" Eris raised the red goddess' face, green eyes meeting blue. "I never held you responsible for what happened. Loki did what he did because he could. It was Odin who helped him. All you did was try to make them stop."

Freya's eyes closed. The scent of dying gods and burning meadhall was fresh in her nostrils, as if she'd only just crawled from the wreckage.

"I am an Asgaardian." She repeated. "Loki and Odin were responsible for much suffering, but my poor brother and the rest of the Aesir were responsible for pretending we weren't responsible." <And it was my sin destroyed Asgaard. I am more Godkiller than Loki ever was.>

"Knowing now what you did for me*for us*" Eris shook her head as if to clear it, then looked up at the other woman again. "We owe you a lot. Me, and Ares, and the boys. Especially me."

"You owe me nothing." Freya whispered, shoving the painful tightness in her throat back into oblivion where it belonged and pasting a brassy smile across her face. She moved to rise. It was time to return to her nest. Eris shifted slightly and pressed her back down.

"You must rest." Ares instructed, rising from his chair to pour her another glass of nectar.

"Apollo and Asclepius healed you," Strife interrupted, "but you took quite a beating and need to lie still for at least a few more hours."

Ares looked back and forth from his sister to her son. The two of them had been arguing for most of the morning, ever since Eris had declared her intention to present Freya formally on Olympus. They had yet to come to a compromise.

"Don't ya see mom?!" Strife had said, pacing madly back and forth across Ares' study. "She's been terrified of discovery. It's bad enough that we know about her. She'll totally wig out if you present her on Olympus. She's not really all that into formal thee and thou shit anyway."

"The day Freya Njordsdattir doesn't enjoy a party in her honor I'll eat my suit." Eris had grumbled back from her perch on Ares desk. "Besides, she's a love god. Being alone is not good for her. She was dying inside."

"But mom*" Strife stared down at her. Eris placed her fingers gently over his mouth.

"We have to put the past behind us, love." She had whispered seriously. "All of us."

Now they were standing around the Norse woman's bed like dolls.

<This would be funny if the poor girl weren't so terrified.> Ares made an abrupt decision. <She's family, whether she will admit it or not.>

"We'll be going as soon as you're ready." Ares silenced Strife's half spoken protest with a glance. "You'll be safe. Eris and I both have promised to protect you."

Freya stared at the War twins, then looked to her lord.

"Where are we going?" She asked.

"To Olympus." Eris answered as if it were obvious, beaming at her brother. "To present you to the rest of the family."

"'Scuse me, what?!" Freya's eyes widened and she hopped out of bed. Eris blushed, much to Strife's amusement.

"Now ya see why they call her the lovely." He giggled and was promptly thwapped on the back of the head by his winged lover.

Freya didn't seem to notice or care that she was naked. She sprinted over to hide behind Strife. He wrapped an arm around her casually and Cupid covered her with his wings.

"Do I have to?" She whispered against Strife's neck. He looked to his uncle.

"It will be for the best, Lady." Ares grinned at her. "You'll see."

The Norse love goddess heaved a deep sigh, then squared her shoulders and withdrew from her lord's embrace.

"If I'm going to be social, I might as well do it right. My necklace?" Freya asked. Cupid handed it to her, and she put it on. She was instantly clothed in the long dress and tunic of her people. The garments were soft blue silk rather than wool, in deference to the mild Greek weather. "I am ready."

Eris smiled at the Norse woman and held out her hand. Freya took it carefully, as if it were made of spun glass.

"I'm glad." The chaos goddess murmured, then she flexed her power and shifted them home.

Zeus closed his mirror and leapt to his feet, hurrying down the hall toward Hera's rooms. They were ahead of schedule and he would need her help.

Freya drifted through the party in an irritated trance. She had been here before. She knew all of these people from having watched them for years. Some of them were fine, and others were rats in gods' clothing.

<I don't want to be here.>

Morpheus watched her from a hidden alcove behind a silk curtain in the hall of war. Hades and Persephone were tangled around him in a post-coital daze, watching him watch the Norse woman with indulgent expressions.

"Why don't you go talk to her, Morph." 'Sephe smiled encouragingly. "I'm sure she'd be glad to see you, even if she is busy having a good time."

Morpheus shook his shaggy head. Something wasn't right.

"She's not having a good time." Hades answered for him. Dream looked to his lover and nodded. Persephone looked confused. Hades shrugged. "I know that expression. It's the let's pretend this is fun so no one gets offended expression. I figure she's probably just a little overwhelmed. This is kind of intense after the quiet of our realm."

Morpheus shook his head again.

"It's not that." He stroked Hades face with one finger. "She's planning something."

Near the banquet tables a commotion broke out. Morpheus groaned as he recognized the shrill voice from within it.

"Don't you shush me, you simpleton." Demeter was haranguing someone. "I have something to say to the meddling fool, and I'm not leaving 'til I've said it."

"Oooo, she's so gonna get her ass kicked." Persephone whispered in his ear as they watched several scowling members of the house of war make their way towards the disturbance.

"Maybe not, watch." Hades replied, as Freya emerged from the crowd. The guests spread out of her way like water, until a path had cleared between her and the irate goddess. Morpheus watched Ares and Eris as they approached.

"You, you ridiculous parasite!" Demeter stabbed a finger at the Norse goddess. "You're nothing to celebrate. You're the cause of my poor child's troubles."

Freya merely raised an eyebrow.

"Looked in any mirrors lately, lady?" Strife had made it through the crowd and skidded to a stop between the two goddesses. "If 'Sephe's messed up it's because you were responsible for her formative years."

Demeter drew breath to reply, but Freya stepped forward and moved Strife gently to the side.

"Let her have her say, my nephew." The Norse goddess' voice was silvery and cold as ice. "Then I shall have mine."

"There, you see?" Demeter stuck her chin forward belligerently. "She knows she can't resist my truths. She knows she's guilty."

"Oh, I know all about guilt, Nature goddess." Freya smiled; her face was distant and frosty. "Pray, continue."

Morpheus tensed. He knew that tone.

"If it weren't for you, my darling child would be free. If you weren't a meddling fool my 'Sephe would be home safe and that little freak would be in Hades where he belongs." The older goddess spat at Strife and missed. "She could live her life among the living in peace. "You planned the whole thing. You should be punished for interfering with other peoples children."

Freya silenced Strife again before he could splutter out an objection. Her thin fingers dug into his leather-clad shoulder, silently begging him to trust her.

"So someone who plans to interfere with someone else's children should be punished?"

"Absolutely. If you weren't just a brainless bird you'd know that."

"Better I think a bird of my brain that a bitch of yours." Freya smiled coldly. Morpheus flinched and hoped she wouldn't get blood on Ares carpets. Demeter spluttered with rage, her face flushing an alarming shade of red.

"How dare you?" She stammered. "How dare you speak to me so?! Do you know who I am?!"

"Quite well." The red Norse grinned, her eyes narrow. "You are a conniving shrew. And it's long past time that someone did something about your venomous tongue."

"Hear me, Gods of Olympus, and mark my words." Freya's voice rang against the marble walls and all conversation died down. "You all know that Eris ran away, long ago, before the Great War between our peoples."

There were murmurs of assent from around the room, mixed with the whispered explanations offered to those who hadn't been born yet.

"She ran away, and when she was found she'd been tortured, and was pregnant." Freya peered slowly around the room, fixing the revelers with a regal glare. "Your family went to war for her honor, and her pain, but some of you have whispered against her."

Strife was looking at his aunt as if she'd sprouted an extra head. Ares was looking sharply at Eris, who was staring at Freya. Slowly, Discord nodded and Freya continued.

"I journeyed among you as Munin for ages while Eris' children grew. I've heard every rumor, every whispered lie, and every bit of slander that has circulated among you. But the worst of all these hurtful words was that Eris got what she deserved, for having left in the first place." Freya fixed terrible eyes on Demeter. "That idea was started and spread by this one, here."

"I don't see why any of this matters, Norse." The nature goddess huffed, turning her back on the Norse. Freya merely interrupted her again.

"Oh but it does, lady." The Norse goddess laughed as she approached Demeter. It was a low, predatory sound and the older woman shivered when she felt Freya's breath on the back of her neck. "You see, I know why Eris left Olympus."

TITLE:  Hey Pig 4/?
SERIES:  Rest and Restitution
AUTHOR:  Raven4  ( arcadian13_2000@y... )
ARCHIVE:  Feel free, just let me know where, eh?
RATING:  PG-13 (language)
PAIRINGS:  Strife/Cupid, Hades/Sephe/Morpheus
WARNINGS:  Not many in this chapter.

DISCLAIMER:  Strife isn't mine.  Herc and Xena original characters belong to Ren Pics and Flat Earth Prods.  As far as folks like Hades, Demeter, and Eris?  They're public domain.  Bite me.  Ares and Freya; I'm theirs', just ask 'em.
NOTES:  Y'all will finally get to see where I'm going with this.  Hope ya like it.  It's all still Scorpio's fault if ya do.  If ya hate it, you only have me to blame.  If you haven't read Dark Side of the Rainbow Bridge you're probably gonna be confused.  Jopanis is Strife's real name.  Joxxious is Joxer's; Jetticles is the real name of Jett/Jace who are one god with MPD. <This signifies unspoken thoughts.>

Feedback is good, it let's me know that somebody's bothering to read this.

SUMMARY:  The truth shall set you free, but not without some effort.



"I know why Eris left Olympus."

Demeter jolted as if struck by lightning and broke for the door with a cry.  No one could know that.  No one.  The older goddess didn't get more than three steps before Freya's arms were around her torso, locking her arms to her sides.

"Don't leave now, Demeter."  Freya sneered, giggling as she threw her to the ground before Eris' feet.  "The story is just beginning.  Come, Hera, as one mother to another.  Come Aphrodite and Ares and see what this concerned parent had planned for both your houses."

Demeter was shaking her head wildly as the gods converged on her.  Morpheus gripped his lovers' hands. 

"I'll be back."  He whispered to them and slipped out the back way, heading down the hall.  Hades and his wife just nodded dumbly, transfixed by the display in the center of the hall.

"Tell them what you did, mother of lies."  Freya shouted, and suddenly all could see the rage that surged through her frail body with every beat of her heart.  "Tell them all how, out of jealousy, you tormented young Eris until she fled.  Tell them how she learned of your plan to entrap Ares for yourself.  Tell them how you plotted the death of innocent infant Cupid before he was even born."

"Tell them everything."  Freya's trembling hands were locked on the earth goddess shoulders and god power swirled around them like ink in a vortex.  Freya's strength had been returned when she was healed, but Demeter was fighting her, and she was strong.  With a final thrust of rage, Freya tore through Demeter's shields and forced her to open her mind, collapsing to the ground behind her.

There was a collective gasp of shock from the assembled gods and heroes as Demeter's plans and thoughts were laid out for all to see.  When she realized that all of her ambitions were naked, the elder goddess began to babble.

"Yes, I did it."  She hissed, kicking the unconscious Freya.  "And why not?!" 

She stepped over her fallen adversary and approached Ares.

"You were perfect.  Who better for someone of my quality?  Who better to wage the war necessary to get my girl back from the freak she married?  Those sluts were never worthy of you.  'Dite, the simpering whore of Olympus, what could she offer to so magnificent a god?  And Eris, the whining little sister.  You got all the talent in that birthing.  Of course I took the first chance I could find to rid myself of them."

She was swaggering around the hall, and Strife took the opportunity to drag Freya out of her reach.

"What did she say to you, Eris?"  Athena asked.  Eris shook her head.  "Please?"

The war twins stared at their sister as if she'd suddenly started a strip tease in the middle of the party.  Eris looked down at Freya, insensate on the floor, then raised her chin and spoke so all Olympus could hear.

"Demeter had stolen Atropos' shears."  Her voice shook and she clenched her fists.  "'Tropos had to have Heph make her a new set. 

"Yes, and the new ones couldn't slice god thread the way the old ones could.  I told the little bitch that if she didn't get away from my Ares and leave Olympus, I would snip the love brat's thread.  Clippity clip and no more Cupid.  War's baby boy, dead before he was even born."

Demeter chuckled unevenly.  "It would have been a masterpiece.  Freak little sister out of the picture and 'Dite made haggard by grief.  I could have struck her down easily and then Ares would have been mine for the taking.  But you disgusting whelp, you were always in the way, even when you were gone."

The assembled gods stared at Demeter in shock.  Tiny flecks of foam spattered from her mouth as she ranted.

"He left to search for you before I could even begin my plan."  The nature goddess raged.  "And then he returned with you and was caught up in vengeance.  Cupid was born, and then those three monsters you brought with you.  With your freak children, you and Aphrodite wound your tentacles around him so tightly he couldn't escape."

"I finally had another plan to free him from your influence, and this foreign freak interfered, so that idiot-freak Jopanis is back to sully Cupid and you're in favor again.  No more." Demeter punctuated each word with a step toward Freya.  "You die, Norse freak, and then I'll take Strife and Eris after you.  Ares will be mine and he will make war on Hades to get my property back for me!"

Demeter reached into her sleeve and drew out a gleaming pair of shears.  They were the lost shears of Atropos.  She threw herself at Freya.  Ares leapt forward but he knew he would be too late.  Eris screamed in rage, but Demeter would reach the Norse goddess before she could.  Everyone could hear the earth goddess' cry of triumph as she thrust the shears toward her target, only to slam into six feet of enraged, leather-clad godling.

"SHUT the FUCK UP!"  Strife shouted into her face, before throwing her back to the ground by her neck.  Demeter stared up at him as he twirled the stolen shears in his hand.  "Damn, but you're a self centered cow."

Casually, the mischief god flipped the shears to a crone who lingered by the door.

"Lose something there, Tropy?"  He grinned at her.  The crone saluted him with the shears and vanished.  Demeter just stared around confused.  "I think we've had more than enough of your shit for one eternity."

Strife dragged the goddess to her feet and threw her to the ground again in front of Hera.  The queen of the gods nodded and smiled at her children their children.

"She will be confined until we figure out what the hell to do about her."  Hera waved her hand.

"I have a few ideas!" Hades piped up from behind the curtain.  Hera shooed him and all the other guests out of the hall.  They went with ill grace, and only once the promise of a good long gossip had been given.  When they were alone again, the god queen turned back to her children and their loved ones.

Eris and Strife were cradling the aged, wrinkled form of their champion where she'd fallen in the fight.  All of the energy gained through the healing Apollo and Asclepius had done had been lost, but Freya's necklace glowed as she stirred, repairing her appearance.  Strife helped her to her feet.

"You sure know how to make an impression."  He giggled.  "You ok?"

"Fine."  She smiled back at him, a little tiredly.  "Just fine."

Hera joined Ares family as they gathered around the Norse. 

"Zeus is on his way with Alcmene."  She announced.  "We shall have to think up a proper reward for this heroine."

"I wish you wouldn't, God Queen."  Freya frowned.  "I deserve no reward."

"I'll do what I like, dear."  Hera smiled gently.  "It's the privilege of being the eldest."

"Eldest, perhaps, but I still rule."  Zeus voice rang out.  He strode into the hall, Alcmene close on his heels.  Much to Eris shock, the older human woman embraced her at once, clucking over her upset.

"Hey gramps."  Strife giggled nervously.  "Ya missed a hell of a party."

"So I hear."  Zeus rumbled, turning his gaze on the Norse woman.  "I shall chose the just desserts of Freya of Asgaard.  Come and kneel before me."

Freya obeyed while the gods looked at each other in surprise.  What the hell was going on now?

"Open your mind to me, Freya Njordsdattir."  Zeus commanded and Freya obeyed.  Perhaps now death would come.  Perhaps if she revealed all of her sins, she would join the other Aesir in oblivion at last.  She felt Zeus, like a pressure in her mind, sifting through all that she had been, was and would be.  This was the gaze of a god king whose powers Odin could only have dreamed about.  Finally, it was over, and Zeus withdrew from her mind.  He shared a long look with Hera before speaking.

"You are curiously bound in good and evil, Freya."  He intoned.  "I find myself at an interesting crossroad.  You have saved my family several times, and for that you should be rewarded.  Yet you are guilty of the death of your own and for that you should be punished, even unto oblivion.  I have searched your heart, and you long for death, so to destroy you would be to reward you.  But if I leave you alive, it is a punishment to you.  It leaves me in a sticky situation."

Freya nodded, fighting back tears as she rose to her feet.

"I will go."  She whispered.  "There is no nest for Freya Godkiller.  There is no peace for me."

"Not so fast, Norse woman."  The king of the gods thundered.  "To Jopanis, called Strife, you have given union with his beloved.  So is the debt to your brother, the love god, and to Strife discharged.  You owe his mother nothing on his behalf, but there are two more children you must pay her for."

Freya stared at him, then nodded slowly while the other gods gasped or frowned or grimaced.

"You will heal the other two triplets, Jetticles and Joxxious.  Then, if you wish it still, I will deliver you to oblivion."  There was a great outcry from the assembled gods and Zeus waved his hand, taking all of them with him to his hall, leaving Freya alone.

She smiled and made her way to the gardens, where her hidden nest still held all the treasures of fallen Asgaard.  She would repair the children.  If the new Norse gods killed her while she quested, she would have lost nothing. Either way, it would all be over soon.

"He doesn't know, you know."  A smooth voice whispered against her neck.  She relaxed against Morpheus.  "He doesn't know that with your power levels depleted by Demeter, you won't even make it back to Asgaard."

"How little you know me."  She chuckled as she laid her treasures into Frey's magic boat and then folded it into her pocket.  "I will fly back as Munin.  I will make it through the void, and I should be able to send any possible cures back with one of the remaining Alfen from my homelands."

"But you won't have the power necessary to get back yourself unless you feed between now and then."  The dream god hissed, gripping her thin arm and forcing her to meet his solid black eyes.  She broke away from him angrily.

"I have plenty of strength, lover."  She laughed, twirling in place until her gown billowed about her.  "See how plump and pretty I am?"

"The illusions of your necklace may fool the other gods, Freya."  He whispered.  "But I can see beneath them.  You are rapidly nearing exhaustion.  You have the strength for one trip, no more."

"It does not matter, Morpheus."  She said coldly.  "When the cure is secured, I will send it back.  I'll find my own way after that."

He watched as she donned her Munin skin and flew off.

"You won't find self destruction so easy, my friend."  Morpheus swore and headed off on shadowy wings to Zeus temple, where he and his offspring were arguing.

TITLE: Back Into Hell 5/?
SERIES: Rest and Restitution
AUTHOR: Raven4 ( arcadian13_2000@y... )
ARCHIVE: Feel free, just let me know where, eh?
RATING: PG-13 (There's that gender thing again)
PAIRINGS: Strife/Cupid, Hades/Sephe/Morpheus
WARNINGS: Not many in this chapter.
DISCLAIMER: If Strife were mine, do you really think Hind's blood would have kept him down? Herc and Xena original characters belong to Ren Pics and Flat Earth Prods. As far as folks like Hades, Demeter, and Eris? They're public domain. Bite me. Ares and Freya; I'm theirs', just ask 'em.

NOTES: So, I'm a Meatloaf fan. We're getting to the meat now, my darlings. Hope ya like it. It's all still Scorpio's fault if ya do. If ya hate it, you only have me to blame. If you haven't read Dark Side of the Rainbow Bridge you're probably gonna be confused. Jopanis is Strife's real name. Joxxious is Joxer's; Jetticles is the real name of Jett/Jace who are one god with MPD. For Nyx, the trollen. Solara and Dahvyd are only the beginning, my goddess.

<This signifies unspoken thoughts.>

Feedback is good, it let's me know that somebody's bothering to read this.

SUMMARY: Strife isn't quite ready to let his servant go yet.


"How could you?!" Aphrodite shouted at her father. "After everything she's done, everything she's been through."

"It must be." Zeus answered tiredly, collapsing into his throne. "Justice must be served."

"But it isn't, father." Eris said softly from the protective circle of Strife and Ares arms. "It isn't just."

Zeus raised an eyebrow. Eris swallowed but kept speaking.

"She was the only one who tried to help. She and the Norse god queen." Eris shook her head against her own tears. "She should bear no guilt in this."

"Nor does she." The king of the gods replied simply. His family stared at him, mouths open. He smiled at them gently. It was a bright spot in an otherwise dismal scene that he could still surprise them so, but he'd learned his lesson about hiding plans from his children, and he would need their help in this.

Munin flew far through the winds of the Void. She knew this path well. She'd been flying it for years. She enjoyed it, reveling in the caress of the ether stream, stretching her powerful wings as she covered the distance that was not distance. She peered around her in the inky nothing, committing the sense of it to her memory. She would never see it again.

Morpheus was right, damn him. She did not have the strength to make the return journey. It was all she would manage to get back to the Norse world. But she felt no more regret than usual. She would see to it that Joxxious and Jetticles were made whole. It would be her final act of atonement owed the family of poor, beautiful, wronged Eris. Surely she could find rest then.

She emerged through the fabric of reality into the still smoldering ruin of Asgaard. She knew where she would begin. If he were still alive, he would definitely know what she needed and how to get it. Whether he would tell her or not? It did not matter.

"Wait, wait, wait*I don't understand." Ares held up his hand. "You say she's innocent of wrong, but you sent her on this quest anyway?"

"Yes." Zeus answered. A wide grin was spreading over Strife's face. Zeus grinned in response. His grandson had a great deal of promise.

"Why?" Ares asked. "She's innocent."

"Because, you know that, and I know that, but Freya does not. Or at least, she refuses to believe it." The god king replied.

"You've sent her out to purge her pain." Eris said, stunned.

"Precisely. It's my hope that once she has returned from this 'penance' she'll realize that we have forgiven her, and perhaps she will forgive herself."

"If she lives that long." A sardonic voice echoed from the great hall door. "You see, my lord, she's not planning on cooperating with that part of the plan."

Freya glided over Asgaard towards the trunk of Yggdrasil. It was the only other living thing left on the whole plain and, like the goddess, it had seen better days. When she reached the base of the trunk, she shed the skin of Munin, folding it carefully and slipping it into the pocket of Strife's tunic.

Wearily, she considered the illusion of youth and beauty she cast using the Brisings necklace around her neck. It was a foolish waste of energy to maintain that illusion. Then necklace did the work, but she provided the energy. Her energy was in short supply, and there would be no one to love her here, so she shut off it's magic.

Just as well to be disguised, for who would recognize Freya the lovely in the withered form of a crone, lurking on Asgaard's plain. Resolutely, she turned to the great life tree and began to climb.

"What do you mean, Dream?" Zeus asked. "She swore to bring back cures for Joxxious and Jetticles. Plus, she's sworn to serve Jopanis. She has to return."

"Oh the cures will make it back, I have no doubt. Freya can be relentless as death when she's got her teeth into something." Morpheus smiled thinly, his all black eyes narrowed. "The problem is that after that conflict with Demeter, Freya has almost no divine energy left."

"So?" Ares challenged. "She can use that bird thing to get back."

"The Munin skin doesn't take much energy from a healthy god, but in her condition*." Morpheus laughed mirthlessly. "She'd never make it back through the void."

"Then how will she get the cures back?" Eris asked angrily.

"She'd never break her promise to get them." Cupid added.

"She'll send 'em back with someone else." Strife answered hollowly, reaching for his lover. "She'll find someone who has enough energy and send them."

"Correct." The dream god's lip curled. "And when she is finished, she'll probably present the truth to the new Asgaardians in the hope that they will kill her."

"Not on my watch." Strife hissed, heading for the door. "Come on, wing-boy, I have some questions for you."

"Cupid," Zeus addressed his grandson. "Go with Strife. Freya is a goddess of love and of war, perhaps the two of you together can help her."

Ares winged son nodded and followed his lover.

Down, down, down. Freya climbed down forever. The hot winds of destroyed Asgaard bellowed around her. She was glad to be dressed in Strife's tight leathers or she'd have been blown off like a leaf in autumn by now.

She had long since passed into the mindless agony of hand over hand, foot over foot. Her muscles burned like liquid metal, her world narrowed down to reach, grip, lower, hold, repeat, over and over, until there was nothing but the pain of muscle and the howling wind. Determination forced her downward, ever downward. She had to reach the well.

She had been searching for her next foothold for some time before she realized that the obstruction beneath her was in fact the ground of Jotunheim, land of the giants. She had reached the bottom. Sagging gratefully to the ground, she panted exhaustion into the earth. Curling up into a ball, she fell asleep between one gasp and the next.

"So." Strife paced from one side of the war hall to the other. "You have never been to Asgaard except in her dreams."

Morpheus nodded.

"Dream landscapes don't make for very reliable maps, even if we knew where she was going. Mom can't help 'cause she's only seen parts of the place. There is a chance we could track Freya through the bond she carries as my servant. The real issue is how to get through the void. We don't have Munin suits."

"I'll check her nest." Morpheus responded, climbing up into the window. "She kept all kinds of things in there."

"I'll come with you." Cupid added. The dream god nodded and the two of them leapt out the window and into the flower scented night air of Olympus.

They alighted on the branch the supported Freya's nest. It was a giant collection of twigs and rags, with a kind of hut built over it. Together, the winged gods entered. Cupid whistled.

"Bigger on the inside than on the outside, but not by much." He murmured. Morpheus had been here before. He began digging through chests and shelves, looking for anything useful while the younger god looked around. "Like a forest cottage. No luxuries, no frills. She lived like a nun."

Morpheus snorted.

"Not quite. If she weren't making love at least semi-regularly, Zeus wouldn't have needed to kill her. She'd already be dead."

"What do you mean?" Cupid asked. Morpheus stared into the distance.

"She was a goddess of love." He whispered hoarsely. "It's a lack of love that's killing her now."

"You mean if she'd had a lover she'd be at peak?" Cupid frowned. "But she's been here for years, centuries, how has she survived this long?"

The dream god pinned him with a glance from his strange eyes.

"Guess."

Freya awoke to a familiar sound. She'd often awoken to that sound in the golden days of Asgaard. She had made it. In the near distance, Mimir's well was still bubbling and flowing. If the well still existed, perhaps the god still existed as well. Surely he would help her, if only for the memories of what they had been to each other. Groaning, the stiff goddess got to her feet. Her muscles felt like fired clay, but she could move, so she did.

Hobbling at first, then more gracefully as the knots worked out of her aged body, she made her way towards the sound.

"Halt!" A terrible voice rang out. Freya froze. She knew that voice.

"It's me. I mean you no harm, Mimir!" She croaked. The voice chuckled dryly at that.

"Nor could you do me harm if you meant it, Freya. Approach, and see why."

Carefully, keeping her hands in plain sight, she crept into the clearing under Yggdrasil's root where Mimir's well was hidden. Beside the well, shock froze her again.

"Oh no." She moaned, and ran to him. "Oh, Mimir, no."

He chuckled again from his place on the altar that straddled the source of the well. Where the chuckle came from, Freya could not say, as she skidded to a stop on her knees before him. For how can either god or man chuckle, when they have no body to do it?

Mimir's head looked back at her fondly.

"Long time no see, Freya." He grinned. "Welcome back, godkiller."

"So you and Freya were doing the horizontal crawl long before Strife died?" Cupid grinned as he rummaged through a wardrobe. "Bet she's a wild one."

"You have no idea." Morpheus grinned back half-heartedly from under the bed.

"I don't get it though, if you two were doing the rabbit thing, why is she so depleted?"

"Because of the agreement." Morpheus grated out angrily. Cupid raised one feathery eyebrow at him. "You are aware that I was Hades lover when Persephone was not at home, yes?"

Cupid nodded. He had guessed that.

"Well, contrary to popular belief I was still his lover when 'Sephe was there. I share their united bed now." Cupid's eyes bugged, now there was an image. "Freya and I had arranged in the past that I would come and feed her, after all, the lust of a Dream is unquenchable. But she felt badly for keeping me from 'Sephe when she was home, so she decided that we would not meet when I could be with both of my lovers. It worked out fine, Freya got a little ragged by the end of winter, but no one would see her except me, and I didn't care."

"But then Persephone took Strife's place in hell." Cupid interrupted. Morpheus nodded.

"Freya has refused my advances on the grounds of our old agreement for months now. I think she was hoping to starve to death."

"But Eris found her in Hades garden and here we are." Cupid emptied several baskets onto the floor.

"Precisely." Morpheus replied from inside a chest. Suddenly, the dream god crowed in triumph, withdrawing from the chest, a silvery vial on a chain dangling from his fingers.

"Go and tell Strife to get ready." The dream god grinned with slitted eyes as the love god took wing towards the temple. "We have you now, my headstrong beauty. You cannot evade us for long."

TITLE:  Under Pressure 6/?
SERIES:  Rest and Restitution
AUTHOR:  Raven4  ( arcadian13_2000@y... )
ARCHIVE:  Feel free, just let me know where, eh?
RATING:  PG-13 (um, headlessgod tm?)
PAIRINGS:  Strife/Cupid, Hades/Sephe/Morpheus, Morpheus/Freya
WARNINGS:  Not many in this chapter.

See 1st chapter for disclaimer

NOTES:  Sorry I'm late, loves.  It's all still Scorpio's fault if ya like it. If ya hate it, you only have me to blame.  If you haven't read Dark Side of the Rainbow Bridge, what the hell are you reading this for?  Jopanis is Strife's real name.

<This signifies unspoken thoughts.>

Feedback is good, it let's me know that somebody's bothering to read this.

SUMMARY:  Mimir explains ancient history and Strife meets a new friend.


Freya stared at Munin's head, as he told her his tale.

"Doubtless you will try to take the guilt of this on your head, but it is not yours.  The Vanir did this to me.  I went to them as a hostage of peace, and I was as happy among them as you were in Asgaard, until Loki gummed up the works."

"You knew of Loki's treachery."  Freya stated, wishing she could tell him the real story.  Mimir laughed.

"I knew that he'd given the unwanted deflowering of a foreign goddess to Odin, yes."  He caught her expression and chuckled again.  "Don't look so shocked, love.  Ever since I put Odin's eye into my well, I can see everything that happens everywhere."

He regarded her seriously for a moment. 

"I even know why you're here."  He grinned.  "And I'm very glad to see you, especially since we both have something the other wants."




Strife's feet dangled below him, occaisionally striking a particularly rampant stalagtite.   If he'd been a mortal, he'd have two broken legs by now.  As it was it was starting to irritate him. 

"OI!"  He hollared up at the two winged gods gripping his arms.  "Watch yer altitude there, guys."

Morpheus chuckled down at his passenger.

"Too much ambrosia makes Strife a heavy boy."

"You can say that again."  Cupid panted, shifting his grip on Strife's other arm.   "Why are we doing this again?"

"Well, ya see, my mom ran away, and..."  Cupid shook the arm he held and
Jopanis fell silent.  "Sorry."

"Smart assed godlings get smashed into walls on my watch."  Cupid growled.

"You know you like it."  Was Strife's only reply.

"We're flying like this because Olympians cannot transport properly between Olympus and Erebus.  You could easily get caught randomly in Hades, or worse yet, end up in limbo."

"Oh."  Cupid said, biting his lip.  "Right."

"Hurry up."  The dream god commanded.  "We have to reach my mother before the sun sets, or we'll have to wait until tomorrow."

"What I meant was, why are we going to see Nox in the first place?"  Cupid panted.  "How can the goddess of night help us find Freya's world?"

"She can't."  Morpheus grinned at Cupid's curse.  "She can only give us access to the path."

The love god made a sound of disbelief.

"Every day, my mother harvests the wisps of chaos flax that only collect in a certain part of Erebus.  She weaves this flax into the garment she wears during her flight over the earth.  And every morning, Apollo's horses chew her gown to bits, so she spends the day making another."

"And?"  Strife smirked.  Cupid was sounding more and more like him every day.

"And I believe that the chaos flax may be the key to getting to Freya."

"Dude, why didn't ya just say so?  Lead the way!"  The two winged gods
increased their pace and Strife's whoop of enjoyment echoed off the night black stones of Erebus.

"What happened to you, Mim?"  Freya lifted the head from the altar into her lap.  He smiled up at her.

"The Vanir were enraged that I knew of Loki's evil and your actions and did not tell them."  The head answered simply.  "They said that if I could not be bothered to act against evil when I had been able, they would render me unable to act but condemned to watch for all time."

"Then they cut off my head and placed it on the altar, there, and set my well to show constant views of various worlds, never ceasing, never granting rest."

"Why do you not simply close your eyes?"  Freya asked, staring into the water. 

"That's the eye of Odin in there, my girl."  He whispered.  "It would project it's visions straight into my mind, even with my eyes closed."

"Poor Mim."  She stroked his hair back from his pale forehead.  "All because I couldn't let Loki's evil go on."

"Don't be stupid, girl."  He growled at her, glowering as best he could from her lap.  "The fault lies with Loki.  And with Odin.  Ragnarok would have come upon us anyway.  Sooner or later, the Greek war god would have managed to find the girl and the longer hunt would only have increased his rage."

Freya placed him gently back on the altar.

"Is there anything I can do for you, Mim?"  Freya asked.  "For old times sake?"

"Don't be leaving yet, my dear."  The head peered up at her.  "Did I not say we both had something the other wanted?"

"Yes."  The love goddess nodded.  "Can you tell me how to heal Eris' sons?"

"I can tell you."  The head grinned.  "For a price."

Strife had decided that the novelty of flying wore very thin after a while.  He was bored, dangling from Cupid and Morpheus' embrace like a bird-caught fish.  He had just decided to start some mischief when an odd, dimming glimmer from the tunnel ahead distracted him.  Morpheus saw it at the same moment.

"She hasn't left yet.  We made it."  The dream god breathed and opened his mouth wide.  A strange, haunted cry, like an unknown hunting bird broke from his mouth, and the glimmer stilled, then grew stronger.  Strife stared up at Morpheus' all black eyes and shivered.  Morph was such an easygoing guy that it was easy to forget his age, and his alien-ness.

The trio of gods came to a landing before a beautiful woman.  At least, Strife thought she was beautiful, but he couldn't be sure.  Her face seemed to change constantly.  The more he tried to fix her features in his mind, the less familiar she seemed.  She smiled at Morpheus and enfolded him in a long hug before turning to face his friends.

Cupid was staring at the goddess' robe.  It was the deepest shade of midnight he had ever seen.  The love god gasped as a shooting star shot across her belly.  She grinned at him and spoke in a voice that was cold and warm and deep and high and beautiful and horrible all at once.

"Hello, little one."  Her tones made him dizzy and he swayed.  Strife held him up, his leather clad arms strong as ever.  "I have seen you often at play under my cloak.  But I must hoard my words, lest I do you harm."

Cupid staggered against his lover and Strife pushed the love god behind him as he seemed to suffer no ill effects from the sound of her voice.  Realizing whom he was facing, Strife bowed low. 

"My Lady Nox."  As he greeted her, Strife realized that he had never been much acquainted with fear.  Pain and disappointment were old friends, but he hadn't had time for fear.  Looking into the black eyes that had been ancient when Zeus killed Cronus, Strife suddenly feared, and discovered the association to be as unpleasant as he'd heard. 

"Hello, godling."  She smiled again.  "You need not fear me, nor need I worry about restraining my nature from you.  Your own chaotic nature as well as the strength of your fathers protects you from my touch."

She hugged him as she had Morpheus.

"Now tell me sons" she addressed them both.  "What need is so great that you would have me delay my ride?"

"You must show us where you spin."  The ancient goddess stared at her blue winged boy.  "We must get through the chaos flax and into the void."

"Through the flax to the void, my son?"  Strife heard the edge of danger in her tone.  A mother, catching her child playing where he'd been forbidden to go.  "Why would you go there?  That is the place where true death resides.  Oblivion waits in it's every twist."

Morpheus met his mother's terrible gaze evenly.

"It is also where life begins."  He held a small glass vial up before her black eyes.  "And if we're very lucky, we'll find Memory in its shadows."

TITLE:  Take Me Down 7/?
SERIES:  Rest and Restitution
AUTHOR:  Raven4  ( arcadian13_2000@y... )
ARCHIVE:  Feel free, just let me know where, eh?
RATING:  R (language)
PAIRINGS:  Strife/Cupid, Hades/Sephe/Morpheus, Morpheus/Freya
WARNINGS:  Not many in this chapter.

See 1st chapter for disclaimer

NOTES:  If you haven't read Dark Side of the Rainbow Bridge, what the hell are you reading this for?  Jopanis is Strife's real name, Joxxious is Joxer, Jetticles is Jett/Jace.  For them what don't remember, thanks to her rumble with Demeter, Freya now looks like an ancient hag, not a lithe love goddess.  Title by Aerosmith.

<This signifies unspoken thoughts.>

Feedback is good, it let's me know that somebody's bothering to read this.

SUMMARY:  Strife and company go chaos picking while Freya learns what's cooking.


"You wish to heal the Grekkenmaid's eldest sons."  Mimir smiled at the now ragged love goddess.  "I know how it may be done, but you will suffer in the doing of it."

"I stopped caring a long time ago, Mim." was her only response.  For a moment, Mimir faltered, remembering the long forgotten beauty and innocence that had come to him so long ago.  She had been fire and laughter bound into soft flesh, and if he'd still had a heart it would have ached for her.  But they had all suffered, and Mimir's heart was long gone. 

Her suffering was within her own power to end.  He had no hands in which to hold his own destiny.  He would have to have hers.

"The healing of the eldest, Jetticles will be a task both difficult and
dangerous, so let us leave it for now.  Joxxious salvation lies close at hand and will require only pain to grasp it."  Mimir's eyes rolled toward the well.

"Therein lies the boy's best hope, and in taking it for him, you will pay my price for giving it.  Once, long ago, The allfather came to me searching for wisdom to increase his power.  I took old Odin's eye in return for a taste of my water.  You'll need some of the same to heal Joxxious, so for a draught from the sacred well, I charge you to remove the Allfather's treasure from that deep darkness where it has lain, so long."

Freya stared at her old friend. 

"Water of your well will heal the boy?"  She stared at him, shocked.  "Such a simple thing?"

"Not water only, girl."  The bodiless god snorted.  "But a brew, made of
sacrifice."

"Your riddles were amusing when I was young and had the time to spare for them."  Freya pinned him with a gaze and he frowned, biting his lip.  "I don't even remember what young felt like anymore, old friend.  So what's say we bypass the bullshit?"

"Oh very well."  He grunted at last, impressed in spite of himself.  More than her body had aged since Asgaard fell.  "I'll tell you how before you do it."

Freya settled back down on the mossy banks of the well of wisdom.

"Joxxious curse is threefold.  One, memory resists him, slipping out of his grasp like an eel in the shallows, two he is foolish, for how can a man learn wisdom when all he learns is forgotten moments later.  Finally, the boy is clumsy, but through no fault of his own.  Odin's blindness, born of how he coveted my treasure was passed on from the Allfather to his Grekken son."

Freya nodded to show she was listening.

"So to heal him, I must heal memory, wisdom and vision."

"Yes, girl."  Mimir's bloodless lips replied.  "And in healing the last, you will repay me."

The aged goddess narrowed her eyes.  She was tired, and her weariness turned old Mimir's riddles to taunts.

"I am heartily sick of Odin's eye."  The ravaged god explained.  "I regret ever having asked for it.  I want it gone from my well, and far away from me, do you understand?"


"My word, a straight answer."  Freya smiled slowly and Mim held her gaze for a long moment, then looked away.  "Was that so hard, old friend?"

He scowled at her.

"To get Odin's eye, you will have to swim down into the well and take it.  The spring may resist losing it, but in the end, it must, for it is mine and my will governs it." 

"How will it resist?"  Freya asked, regarding the water narrowly.

"In it's own way."  Freya scowled at him and he quailed.  "That's no riddle, girl.  That's just an old fool who doesn't like to fess up when he doesn't know something."

"So what else is new?"  She teased gently.  "I will fetch the eye out, Mim.  What then of memory and wisdom?"

"Wisdom is simple.  The boy must drink of my well water.  It is to pay for this drink that you fetch out the eye.   As for memory, well, that is simple also.  When the boy has eaten all the meat from the stew you will prepare, he will remember all that my well water teaches him."

"What stew must I prepare?"  She asked, her belly cold.  Mimir's smile was now neither gentle nor warm.  He was grinning like a blood-drenched wolf.

"You will prepare him a stew of my well water and that bird corpse you wear so lovingly."

"It's as well you made Cupid wait outside."  Morpheus wiped his brow and
regarded his chaos burnt arm ruefully.  The air was redolent with the smell of scorched feathers.

"Yeah, well.  They say that scars add character, but I like his bod just the way it is, thanks."  Morpheus chuckled at the soot streaked mischief god. Strife stretched like a cat then bent to continue carefully rearranging the plants from which the silky strands of chaos grew.  "Besides, by the time we find the entrance to the void, it's a sure bet you an' me are gonna be way too tired to do anything about it."

"True enough."  The black-eyed god responded, bending back to his search.  "One could hardly ask for a better guard through the void than Love incarnate."

Strife raised an eyebrow at his blue-haired companion.

"Ya can say that again."

The chaos plants grew down from the ceiling, their waxy multicolored leaves undulating gently just above the floor.  At the juncture of leaf and stem, knuckle sized pods extruded their fine flax.  The plants only grew near the points where void and reality joined, but finding the exact vortex within them was a tricky business at best.

The ripe chaos flax was apt to burst into heat without flame at the merest touch, except when it frosted over, or exploded, or screamed until a mortal would be deaf.  Searching for the conjunction point was a painfully slow exercise in contortionism, and Cupid could not help them hunt.  Just being near the plants made him dizzy. 

Dream and Mischief had been quartering this particular field for hours with no end in sight.  Nox had assured them that there was a vortex nearby, but had no more idea than they did where in the field it might be.  Morpheus' mother had simply shown them the way and then left to begin her delayed ride across the sky.

"FUCK!!!"  Strife shoved his singed fingers into his mouth.  The dream god looked up the tangle he was clearing.  "I'm getting real sick of this, man."

Morpheus chuckled again, bending over and twisting slightly to wriggle between two of the plants without disturbing the flax.  Behind him was the path he and Strife had woven, painstakingly easing the vines of flax through each other to make a clear path.  It was a depressingly short distance, though as twisted as any maze.

His leading foot slipped between the vines in front of him and he leaned
forward, gradually shifting his center of balance as carefully as he could.  He'd had to shrink his wings down to get into the grove at all.  It had become a rhythm now.  Bend, lift, weave, step, lean, lean, ground, shift.  Bend, lift, weave, step, lean, lean, ground, shift.

Bend, lift, weave, step, lean, lean, lean, er*

"Um, Strife?"  The dream god murmured conversationally.

"What?"  Mischief asked, not lifting his eyes from the clump of flax that had snagged on one of his safety pins.

"I, er."  Morpheus stammered and Strife looked in his direction.  "That is, well*  I seem to have found it."

"Finally."  Strife returned his focus to his mortally endangered jewelry.  "Go get Cupe and bring him here while I get untangled."

"Um, I'd really love to do just that, Jopanis, but well*" Dream muttered
something.

"What was that?"  Strife frowned, the tip of his pink tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration.  This tuft was one of the purple ones.  They almost always burned ya, except when they didn't.

"I said I'm stuck."  Strife's head shot up and the clump of flax he'd been working on burst into a glob of sweet smelling liquid.  He looked down at his now sticky leathers and rolled his eyes.

"Wait here.  I'll get him and we'll go."  Strife turned and wriggled back along the path he had cleared.  "Whoever designed this shit needs a raise.  It's got to be the most annoying stuff I've ever seen."

Freya stared down into the well of Mimir with cold eyes.  She was so tired.  All she wanted was peace, and even oblivion would be sweet if only it provided it.  Wearily, the now haggard love goddess closed her eyes, shaking her head slowly.

<Just a little more.>  She promised herself, stifling a sob.  <Just fight a little more, then it'll be over.  One way or another, we can rest then.>

She took a deep breath and then threw herself forward, her aged body slicing into the water with barely a ripple of splash.  Though ancient and wrinkled, she maintained her stamina.  Suffering had made her hard, and she used that hardness now, kicking legs made strong by crouching and running in the shadows to propel herself deeper into the well.

The water looked clear from above.  Standing on the bank, she had thought she saw the bottom of the well.  That was the illusion of the well's water, it was always deeper than it looked, and never as simple to navigate.  So far as Freya knew, only two gods other than her had ever actually swam in the magical well.

Mimir himself had bathed in it in the days when he'd had a body.  <And Baldur>, Freya added sadly to herself as she dove.  <Sweet Baldur was thrown in it as an infant.  Yet another of Loki's sins.> 

Freya had often wondered how Baldur's swim in the waters of wisdom had altered his childish mind.  There had been no chance to see, as the boy-god had grown overnight, and then died within days, victim of Loki's jealous prank.  It was for Baldur's death that Loki had first been cast out, Baldur, beloved of all Aesir.

Now Baldur, freed from death at the end of Ragnarok, ruled new Asgaard.  Or so Freya assumed.  She had not journeyed to the new meadhall, certain that her guilt in destroying the old would shine from her face in the presence of Baldur the Wise.  Shaking her head, Freya kicked deeper into the clear, black waters of Mimir's well. 

<Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.>  She thought moodily.

TITLE: Acid Bath 8/?
SERIES: Rest and Restitution
AUTHOR: Raven4 ( arcadian13_2000@yahoo.com )
ARCHIVE: Feel free, just let me know where, eh?
RATING: R (language)
PAIRINGS: Strife/Cupid, Mimir/Well
WARNINGS: Not many in this chapter.

See 1st chapter for disclaimer

NOTES: If you haven't read Dark Side of the Rainbow Bridge or Pathos of Joxer, which started this whole thing, what the hell are you reading this for? Jopanis is Strife's real name, Joxxious is Joxer, Jetticles is Jett/Jace. For them what don't remember, thanks to her rumble with Demeter, Freya now looks like an ancient hag, not a lithe love goddess. Title by Iggy Pop or Rob Zombie, I forget which.

<This signifies unspoken thoughts.>

Feedback is good, it let's me know that somebody's bothering to read this. Sorry it's so late, loves. RL is kickin' my ass.

SUMMARY: Freya hunts Odin's eye and Strife takes a detour.


Freya swam for days, maybe months, propelling herself ever deeper into Mim's well. So long as she didn't look to carefully at the shadows around her, it was almost pleasant. The dark water was cool, but not cold. It tasted pure, though vaguely bitter, like tears. The shadows held visions though, and she did not want to see anymore than she already had. Odin's eye would be good for Joxxious. As god of Redemption, it would allow him to see the possibilities in a man, rather than the failures of the past.

<And if someone cannot be redeemed,> she thought mirthlessly. "He will see it from the first.>

She became aware of the presence gradually. It started as a tickle in her mind, but grew quickly. She tried to locate it, but it was diffused throughout the waters around her. All at once, it gelled and she found herself floating inside a consciousness of sorts. It directed a sleepy curiosity at her. She bowed awkwardly in the water.

<Greetings, sister> She thought. The gelled water seemed to shake. <I am sent by Mimir>

She felt the blast of its' frustration in the sudden warmth of the water.

Mate. Miss. Gone. Lonely.

She sighed at the longing of the liquid, knowing it well. Was she not the Goddess of love? Was it not her charge to re-unite mated pairs in death? Had she not sought her own husband from one end of the worlds to the other when first he'd left her side. Silently she commiserated with the entity.

Good. Friend. Kind. Help?

Smiling, Freya nodded. <I must have Odin's eye for*> the love goddess got no further as the water around her exploded in fury, frothing like the tide from the violence of it's thrashing.

No. No. Mine. Mine. No Mim. No baby. Nothing. Only. Lonely.

The entity wrapped its wet gelid body around her and squeezed once. Though only a warning, it left Freya bruised.

NEVER. The entity frothed around her once and then was gone, shooting deeper into the pool, faster than Freya could have gone at her best.

Frowning, the weary goddess kicked after it, she had to have that eye if Joxer were ever to be freed.

The void spider cocked its' bulbous crystalline head from one side to the other. She had never seen anything quite like this, and wasn't sure what the procedure for dealing with it should be. She was fairly sure it was a leg, misshapen and lumpy as it was, it certainly wasn't the long, thin, multi-jointed perfection of her own leg.

The spider slipped along a Thread to investigate more closely. Ugh! She reared back, front legs waving in disgust. It was still alive. She spat a short length of Thread, trying to expel the scent of fleshly oils. She would have to wrap this thing securely to keep the oils from spreading out across the Thread toward her nest.

Cupid followed Strife through the rapidly re-growing chaos flax to the hole in reality where Morpheus was pinned. He pulled up short, stifling a grin.

The ancient God of Dreams had taken an incautious step through the flax and was stuck up to his hip in a hazy patch on the ground. Morpheus glared at him.

"Very funny." He growled. "Get me out."

"Why couldn't ya get yourself out, Cuz?" Strife asked, chuckling at the bruised dignity on Morpheus face. The dream god scowled at him.
"Because the only thing to grab onto around here is Chaos Flax, and I've had quite enough of that." Cupid noticed that Morpheus wings were covered in singed spots at the same moment Strife realized that the last patch of Flax Morpheus had stumbled through had covered him head to toe in honey.

The mischief god roared in mirth doubled over and clutching his sides.

"When you've quite finished?" Morpheus snapped, his eyes narrowed. Strife finally got enough control over his gales of giggles to help Cupid pull the irate dream god from his predicament, but one look at the sticky mess of tangled black hair and sodden feathers, and he was off again, falling to his knees between the flax plants.

The void spider jerked in surprise as her target was yanked out of her reality. She'd made a nice casing of Thread that would slip over it and bind fast, sealing in the oils and the scent they carried, but it appeared that it would no longer be necessary. The flesh smell was gone. The crystalline spider peered at the thin spot in reality where the leg had disappeared. This would never do.

Clicking to herself in irritation, she began to un-spin and re-shape the casing of Thread she'd made for the leg. This point would have to be repaired or her children would be up to their knee joints in flesh beings and they'd never get the oils out of their Threads.

Morpheus stretched his leg and then turned to regard the hazy spot on the ground.

"That's it." He murmured, and Strife calmed instantly. "An entrance to the void."

Cupid stared at it for a moment, uncertainly.

"What's in there?" He whispered. Dream shrugged.

"No idea. As far as I know, even my mother doesn't go there." Morpheus ran one finger over the spot, shivering as it sucked at him. "All I know has been collected from Freya's dreams, and that amounts to a shadowy place through which one must keep moving, no matter what. To pause in the void is to invite the notice of beings even Freya fears."

"Right. Keep moving." Cupid flexed his wings, limbering them up a bit. "Good safety tip."

"You take this." Morpheus handed the love god the glowing blue-green vial he'd retrieved from Freya's hoard. "Freya told me once that the fluid came from a sacred place on her world. Theoretically, it should be drawn to its' homeland."

"Theoretically?" Cupid asked, tying the leather thong around his neck. Strife raised an eyebrow at him, grinning madly. Morpheus only shrugged. He had no guarantees to offer.

"What the hell, wings?" Strife wrapped leather and safety pin clad arms around his lover, gripping him tightly at the waist, but leaving his white wings free to move. "It's a challenge, right?"

Cupid thought for a moment, as Morpheus stepped forward and wound his arms around Strife's waist from behind. Then a wild grin covered his golden face. He was gonna fly the void.

"If we live, Mom and Uncle Pollo never get to brag about surfing the Atlantis wave again."

Strife giggled, hugging his lover and placing a wet kiss on his stomach. Morpheus only grinned, enjoying the exotic god sandwich.

"If we live," Mischief's eyes glittered at his lover. "I'll see to that personally."

Cupid whooped as he threw himself forward through the rent.

Then he banked hard to avoid hitting the huge glass rock on the other side.

The huge glass rock that was heaving up and back from him on crystal legs the size of tree trunks. Morpheus cursed fluently, clutching at Strife in horror. For his own part, Strife just stared.

"Zeus!" He murmured as Cupid's wings flapped wildly fighting to lift them away from the gargantuan monster. "Think of the look on Grandma's face."

The crystalline spider gripped the shuddering Thread with four legs, wind-milling her others to keep her balance. The strange, three-headed beast ahead of her was pummeling her with a wind the like of which she had never seen in this part of the Void. She watched panicked as the monster veered toward her nest and her precious eggs.

The spider spit a long column of what looked like molten glass. Cupid dodged, rolling and almost dislodging his passengers. Gods, he wished he were unencumbered for this. He zigged and zagged, narrowly avoiding the crystalline gobs.

The void spider was getting worried. This combat, if it could be called that was drawing ever nearer her delicate clutch of eggs. The Threadshell of the clutch was not yet hardened. Her children were not yet safe inside their womb. Desperately, she threw out another mouthful of Thread, the sticky end shooting across the void to connect with an older Thread, long disused. She slid along it quickly racing to put her clear, bulbous body between the three-headed beast and her egg sac.

Strife's eyes widened as he stared at the spherical clump of glassy fibers embedded in the wall directly ahead of them. He'd put enough of those things in 'Dite's hair over the years to know exactly what it was. They couldn't dive below it, they'd crash right into the crystalline wall, probably shattering it in the process.

"Cupid!" He shouted as his lover dodged another blast. "Pull up. Morpheus, let go!"

The elder winged god loosed his hold from around Strife's waist, flapping his indigo wings to hover in the air. He watched helplessly as Cupid fought with the odd non-wind of the Void, trying to comply without getting hit by boiling glass. The love god jinked from side to side, searching desperately for a thermal, any thermal, but there were none. With a sickening sensation, Morpheus realized that the Olympians were going to hit the glassine construction.

The spider dragged her legs against her body, screaming in anguish as the now two-headed beast lurched into the wall of her nest. It was well built, but no one had ever built a nest to withstand being struck from the side. Danger fell from above here. When the flesh being struck the wall of her delicate home, it shattered taking with it all her hope for the future. Even if her precious ones survived the fall, they would be food for predators before she could even find them.

Cupid and Strife rolled over each other across a crystal platform inside the web. They halted in time to hear an ominous creak from above them and stared, wide-eyed from their tangle of arms and legs and glass as the watermelon-sized egg sac teetered for a moment on the jagged edge of the web. Then, as if in slow motion, the crystal eggs tumbled inexorably into the void.

Before the clutch had even cleared the bottom of the web, Strife was up and disentangled from his lover. Cupid watched in horror as his beloved Mischief leapt to his feet, raced to the edge of the platform and leapt out after the crystal blob in a graceful dive.

"NOOOOO!!!!!!!!" Cupid's howl of agony was echoed by the strange ringing cry of the Void Spider's legs on her thorax. He threw himself to the edge of the web, but Strife was already gone, lost in the shadows of the void.

TITLE: Ain't Got Time to Bleed 9/?
SERIES: Rest and Restitution
AUTHOR: Raven4 ( arcadian13_2000@yahoo.com )
ARCHIVE: Feel free, just let me know where, eh?
RATING: G
PAIRINGS: Strife/Cupid,
WARNINGS: Um* Scary Spider?

See 1st chapter for disclaimer

NOTES: If you haven't read Dark Side of the Rainbow Bridge or Pathos of Joxer, which started this whole thing, what the hell are you reading this for?

<This signifies unspoken thoughts.>

Feedback is good, it let's me know that somebody's bothering to read this. Been a little bogged down of late. I'm hoping to get rolling on this again soon. My muse is a harsh one, if I try to force it, it'll just suck. Title by Alien Sex Fiend. Gods, but I do love these terrible musical hooligans.

SUMMARY: Strife's detour gets interesting.


Strife fell through nothing, eyes focused on the distant glimmer of the falling egg sac. He kept his arms held tightly to his body, using the resistance of the wind generated by his fall to adjust his course.

<Think skinny, heavy thoughts.> He commanded himself, adjusting his body position to send himself hurtling after the eggs. The glimmer grew brighter, until it was a recognizable shape. Part of the nest wall was still connected to the torn clutch by a multitude of shining glass threads. The wall caught the wind like a broken wing, causing the sac to spin as it fell. It rotated, catching the light on it's jagged edges like a glittering, razor decorated top.

<No guts, no glory.> Strife giggled and arrowed more tightly toward the eggs. <Skinny and heavy, skinny and heavy, skinny and heavy, oh shit, this is gonna SUCK!!!!!>

He slammed into the rotating egg sac, and grabbed on with both arms, clinging to it. Something tore in his left hand where he'd hit the jagged glass edge of the egg, but he ignored it. There would be time to worry about bleeding later. For now, he had to find someplace to land this mess that wouldn't splatter him and the eggs into a red, glass filled puddle. If the baby spiders didn't like god's blood on them, they could scream about a bath if they lived.

He looked down and caught his breath.

"That would be a platform." The mischief god swallowed. "A really big platform."

He scrunched up his face in preparation to being liquefied, then there was a jerk on his chest. He looked up into the mirth-filled eyes of Morpheus.

"What was it you were always saying about interfering elder gods?" Dream asked, his indigo wings beating the air desperately as he hauled Strife up by the back of his tunic.

"Not a thing." Mischief grinned at his cousin. "Not a damn thing."

Cupid looked around the chamber blearily. It was huge and it was pretty and that was about all he could think of it. He probably would have admired the décor, except that he was becoming part of it. The crystalline spider was busily walling him up in the remnant of her nest, all the while clicking angrily.

She'd covered him to the waist in spun glass fiber when the beating of huge wings distracted her from her spinning. She reared angrily in the air, waving her legs wildly at the sight of the blue winged god of Dreams. She was preparing to spit a molten stream of glass at the interloper when the black figure in his arms held out a familiar bit of spinning.

Her beloved eggsac was still in one piece. The black flesh monster held her eggs cradled in one of its grotesque arms. The glass shell was whole and appeared to be undamaged. It would be slick with flesh oil, impossible to hold on to, but if she spun a new nest for it first*

The black flesh was waving its free arm toward the gold flesh she'd partially encased. She guessed he wanted to trade. The gold flesh must have been as important to it as her eggs were to her. Just as well, she thought. It would save her the trouble of insulating it from her nest fibers.

Working quickly, she spat a bowl shaped pedestal for her eggsac, then she turned to the black flesh and drew back away from the new nest. It wagged its strange, big head and stepped forward to lay her precious children in the indentation. She rubbed her crystalline legs against her body in pleasure. Then she reached one leg back to begin releasing the golden flesh from her nest wall, carefully re-absorbing the fibers to avoid waste while she examined her eggs.

The shell was slick with flesh oil and some bizarre red liquid that the spider had never seen before. Cocking her head at the black flesh, she clicked an interrogative at it. It just stared at her. She moved toward it slowly, carefully, trying not to frighten it. These fleshes were dangerous when frightened.

The black flesh stood it's ground, though and she drew nearer to have a closer look. The red fluid was dripping out of the flesh's body. Shifting her sight a bit, she studied the three, rearing and scuttling back in shock. The red stuff ran all though the fleshes. As the stuff of Thread was life to her kind, so this red liquid was to the flesh, and the black one had willingly spilled his to save her eggs.

She released the golden flesh with one blow, ignoring the waste of fiber.

Strife watched as the spider got agitated. He supposed she was impatient, and he couldn't blame her. If he'd been in her place he'd have wanted the Olympians gone post haste, too. He was surprised therefore, when she pulled a glass blob off of her thorax and offered it to him. The blob was clear, round and slightly larger than a grapefruit. The giant spider held it up between them for several moments before he accepted it.

"After all," he said, examining it. "If she wants to kill us there are easier ways."

He was staring at the blob when it wriggled out of his grasp like a water balloon and rolled over and around his bleeding hand several times. Then the blob raced up his arm to perch on his shoulder like a pet.

"Okay, this is totally maxing my weird shit-o-meter." Cupid stated and Strife whirled to face him, catching the love god into his arms for a bruising hug. "Take it easy there, lover. I need these ribs."

"Oh baby*" Strife trembled, pulling back to stare into the eyes of his Love. "Oh baby*"

"It's okay, love." Cupid grinned at him, cupping his face in both hands. "I'm fine."

The two younger gods shared a long kiss, until Morpheus cleared his throat audibly.

The glass blob slid off of Strife's shoulder, circled Cupid's neck and then attached itself back to Strifeas the two pulled apart. It jiggled like ambrosia as both gods stared at it. The spider was waving encouragingly.

"We'd best be off, my friends." Morpheus said. "This time, I'll carry myself."

Cupid tucked Strife into his arms and the two winged gods leapt out over the void, following the pull of Freya's crystal vial.

Freya followed the gelid life form deeper into the pool, but it always stayed just out of her reach. She'd been swimming downward for days, but the pressure was no more than if she were just beneath the surface. She could breath the water of wisdom as easily as air, but her legs and arms had degenerated into burning knots of pain. How was she going to find Odin's eye if she couldn't even find the bottom?

She had seen no sign of true bottom; a few floating moss beds and some long strings of freshwater plant, but nothing like an actual bank. She was beginning to wonder if the tales were true. Was Mimir's well bottomless?

TITLE: Down In It 10/?
SERIES: Rest and Restitution
AUTHOR: Raven4 ( arcadian13_2000@yahoo.com )
ARCHIVE: No worries, send me a URL
RATING: PG (sex is mentioned)
PAIRINGS: Strife/Cupid,
WARNINGS: Um*

See 1st chapter for disclaimer

NOTES: You're gonna wanna go back and read all the junk that lead up to this. If ya don't, you'll be totally lost.

<This signifies unspoken thoughts.>

So, uh, have I managed to alienate everyone on the list? Is there anybody out there reading? Should I just let this one die a natural death? Starting to feel like maybe I'm whistleing in the dark. If no one's reading this, there's no point in it taking up bandwidth, jaa?

SUMMARY: Freya makes a deal and the boys reach their destination.

Ahead in the gray waters, Freya saw a glow. It was so out of place, she'd turned toward it without realizing. As she drew nearer, it resolved itself into shapes she could recognize. It was a magnificent palace made entirely of glass and gold. It glowed from within like a thousand torches. Astonished, Freya swam nearer.

The gelid creature had plastered itself to the glass wall near a portal in the structure. Through the glass, Freya could make out the form of a woman, transparent, lovely, and perfectly still. Golden light flowed from the Gelid through the wall and into the unmoving woman.

Freya watched as the woman's eyes fluttered open and she looked back at the goddess through the glass as figures moved from deeper within the palace to clothe her in a wrap of shimmering green and blue.

Freya kicked through the portal and landed hard on her belly. There was no water in this place. She looked up from the floor to the unknown, transparent well creature.

"Welcome, Freya Godkiller. Welcome to Odin's Mind."

The three gods flew through the abyss quickly, following the minute tugging of Freya's vial. It was getting stronger with every second's progress. Cupid had to hold it tightly in both hands to keep it from getting away.

"We're getting close." He announced. Strife nodded, staring into the void, looking for any sign of an exit. His glass blob was still exploring his suit. It seemed to like the back of his neck best.

"So," Strife called out to Morpheus. "How do we go about raising her energy levels?"

"Easy enough. She needs to be loved, sex is generally the quickest, easiest way." Morpheus grinned humorlessly at the younger god. "The problem is getting her to believe you when you tell her you want her."

"Who are you?" Freya stammered, dragging her exhausted limbs off of the glass floor.

"I AM Mim's well." The glass woman answered coldly. "His mate, Aqvaseti. I was born when the Eye touched the Water, and if it's the Eye you want, I'm the one you'll have to negotiate with."

Freya picked herself up off the floor of the Well palace and faced the girl, who regarded her quite frankly.

"You're very pretty under all that age." Aqvaseti said flatly. "That's a bonus, I suppose. Not that it matters to me. It's his mind I'm after."

"Pardon?" Freya stammered, backing away from the strange creature.

"Do you want the Eye of Odin?" The well woman asked.

"Yes."

"Well then, you will have to give up your body to Mimir so he can swim down here to be with me again."

Strife saw it first, like a gray glimmer in the fabric of the nothingness. It winked at him. He directed the other two to it.

"Grand." Shouted Morpheus. "Now hold your breath!"

The three gods shot through the hole with a splash. They foundered around for several long moments, until they discovered which way was up, then swam towards it.

Mim's well was not kind to those who swam it uninvited. Each Olympian struggled to swim against terrifying visions of nightmare fates. Morpheus just gritted his teeth and kept swimming. He was familiar with nightmares.

Cupid thrashed helplessly until Strife touched him, then the horrible visions faded somewhat. Together, the pair fought upward toward freedom and air.

"I don't understand." The aged love goddess frowned at Mimir's smiling wife. "You want what?"

"I want my Mim back. He can't swim without a body. You will allow your head to be cut off and Mim will have your body. Agreed?" The Norsewoman blinked at the glassy creature for a moment.

"Absolutely, on one condition."

"What?" The glass woman licked her lips, grinning widely.

"I have to finish my quest before I surrender my body." Freya held her breath. Would it really be that simple?

"Done!" The water woman cackled, twirling happily around the room. She reached into her breast and pulled out a milky orb. "Here, take the thing and welcome. And when you are free, you will be his and he will again be mine!"

Freya took the eye. It stared at her, blue as crystal. She swallowed, flinching, then put it in her mouth to carry to the surface.

The three Olympians broke the surface of Mimir's well with heaving gasps for breath. Strife helped first Cupid, then Morpheus struggle to the shore. Their sodden wings threatened to drag them down into the madness-ridden waters all over again. Every moment in the water threatened the Olympian intruders with the loss of their minds.

Finally, it was over and they lay, gasping on the shore.

"FUCK!" Cupid shouted, shaking all over. "I don't ever want to deal with that again."

Strife nodded silently, panting. "Note to self:" he gasped through blue lips. "Find a different way home."

Mimir watched the trio from his perch. The black clad one was the spitting image of dead Frey. The dark winged one was obviously a dream god. But the third, the third had possibilities.

After all, if he was going to return to his own realm and his perfect bride, why not do it in a fine young body.

Strife examined the shoreline for a moment. He found a pile of things near the waterline.

"She's been here." He said softly. "That's my tunic."

The water broke behind him with a soft rippling sound, revealing an ancient crone with long white hair.

"Jesus!" Cupid shrieked, falling back.

"No." Morpheus stepped forward to stand by Strife. "Freya."

The love goddess stared at the three Olympians, then spit Odin's eye into her cupped palms. "What in the hell are you doing here?"

"Oh, damn. I gotta hand it to ya, birdy." Strife giggled. "That's one of the grossest things I've ever seen a goddess do."

"I didn't have any other way to carry it." She gave him a wan smile. "So glad you approve."

"Why are you here?" She repeated, climbing out of the water and pulling Strife's tunic over her head. "This is my quest."

"Uh yeah, it is." Strife said, his mad eyes going cold. "But given that you can hardly stand, I figured you could use some help."

"Unnecessary." Freya rummaged through her magic bag for a moment before pulling a large iron cauldron out of it. "I am fine."

"Oh yeah." Strife giggled, indicating her appearance. "A regular babe."

"Beauty is wasted in this." She said simply. "I don't need it. You should have stayed at home."

"Look, I know all about your power drain, okay." Strife grabbed her arm. "I'm not gonna let you kill yourself."

Freya threw Morpheus a venomous look, to which he smiled sweetly. Then she smiled honestly up at Strife.

"I have no intention whatsoever of killing myself." She grinned.

"Then you won't mind if we insist you recharge your batteries?" Cupid asked. Freya looked at him in surprise, then turned back to Morpheus.

"Someone's been telling tales out of school." She hissed. He only grinned at her. She pursed her lips and turned away from them, filling the cauldron with water from the sacred well. "One of you make yourself useful and get a fire going under this."

Strife pushed with his powers and a merry blaze started crackling under the huge pot. The gathered Olympians watched in shock as Freya unfolded her Munin Suit and tossed it into the pot. Strife stepped into her personal space. She met his eyes evenly and he decided not to ask. He didn't want to be distracted from the business at hand.

"Ya gotta know we do love you." He murmured.

"I know you do, sweet." She smiled up at him. "I know you do. And I do appreciate what you seem bound and determined to do."

"So how about it, birdy." Strife grinned. She grinned back.

"I think not." Her fingers pressed against his lips, silencing his argument. "When we lay down tonight, make love to Cupid for me. It will be enough."

She returned to her magic bag and pulled out two jars. Into one, she placed Odin's eye. The other she placed next to the cauldron where it would receive the distilled essence of knowledge and memory. Then she got to her feet wearily.

"Watch the pot. Don't let it boil over." Freya strode out of the sacred grove.

"I don't think so." Morpheus got to his feet and strode after her. "You're not my elder lady, and I don't take orders well."

TITLE: Slowdive 11/?
SERIES: Rest and Restitution
RATING: NC-17
PAIRINGS: Strife/Cupid, Morpheus/Freya
WARNINGS: Het sex. Slash. Rough sex.
See 1st chapter for disclaimer
NOTES: Same old same old, Dark Side, Pathos, blah, blah, blah. If you like it, blame Scorpio. If you hate it blame me. This is a sexual interlude between plot bits. I realized I hadn't given any one a good swiving in a while.
<This signifies unspoken thoughts.>

SUMMARY: Sexual interlude.

Morpheus strode after the Norse love goddess, his steps clipped with anger. He caught up to her quickly and grabbed her arm, spinning her to face him.

"Morpheus, I don't think*" His mouth descended on hers with bruising force. His tongue slipped past her lips to duel with hers for long moments, then he drew back slowly, black pupil-less eyes trapping hers.

"No you don't." He whispered before sealing her lips again. Already he could feel the life returning to her. It was always thus. Just a hint of lust and she grew supple in his arms. But he would not be satisfied with the mere appearance of health in her. Not tonight. Not here.

"Why?" She gasped against his lips. "Why are you so determined that I live?"

He pushed her back until her back met the world tree, then he lifted her, pinning her body to the trunk of Yggdrasil, settling between her spread thighs.

"Because." He whispered, tangling his talons in her collar and tearing her borrowed tunic in two. "I love you."

His mouth closed on her nipple, sucking her, tonguing her. She arched under him, crying out in spite of herself. Desire was her slave, but it mastered her as well, making her unable to resist. She wanted him. She always wanted him. With a low moan, she twined her fingers in his ebony hair, pulling him more tightly to her breast. This one last time, she would have him. It would not matter in the long run. Once Jetticles was cured, she would die at last, by the hand of Aqvaseti. But for now, she could live, and she could have him.

Morpheus felt the moment Freya stopped resisting and shouted his pleasure to the sky before losing himself in the mad whirl of rushing heat and joy that was making love to Freya Njordsdattir.

"So, uh*" Cupid looked across the fire at his smirking lover. "They've been gone a while."

"Yup." Strife stifled a giggle. He knew the effect that thinking of what Freya and Morpheus were probably doing together would have on his lover. He was counting on it.

"So, uh, what do you think they're um, doing?" Cupid asked. Strife just looked at him and he blushed, ducking his head. "Right. Stupid question. You're right."

<Five, four, three, two*> and Mischief's arms were full of warm, wriggling, winged love god. He rolled his eyes and then claimed Cupid's mouth like he'd paid for it. He loved it when his baby got all needy. It was just so much fun to torment him.

"A little anxious there, wings?" He chuckled, slipping his hand down the front of Cupid's leather pants. Cupid was twelve o'clock hard. The winged god groaned, rubbing his body against Strife's hand.

"Don't tease baby." Love whispered. Strife shivered. Cupid was using his begging voice. He could never resist the begging voice. He shifted his power and they were both nude. Cupid groaned at the wet feeling in his ass. No preliminaries tonight.

Strife lowered his lover carefully to the ground and knelt between his spread thighs. The full moon overhead bathed the love god in pale light, turning his shining wings to molten silver against the dark earth.

"Beautiful." Strife murmured before throwing himself on the feast laid out before him.

Mimir pursed his lips and wished he could turn his damned head. The sounds alone were gonna kill him.

Freya arched under Morpheus, pinned against the worldtree by his hips. He was hard as stone against her thigh and his fingers traced her sex harshly. He was angry with her, and frightened for her, and she could feel it. It made him rougher than usual. Needier. Better.

"Oh, Dream." She whispered, digging her fingertips into the sensitive place where his wings met his shoulders as his fingers plundered her sex. She wrapped her legs around him, arching up to meet his hand. "This feels so good."

"Then why?" He gasped, stroking her clit hard. "Why do you always resist it?"

His black on black eyes bored into her as her youth and beauty returned under his touch.

"I know you want it. I know you want me." He hissed, thrusting his fingers into her until she gasped. "I can feel your hunger like a pressure on my soul. Why do you always refuse me?"

"Because." She gasped, tears in her eyes. "Your love is spoken for. Besides, this isn't who I am anymore."

"Oh yes it is." He growled back. "You may pretend otherwise, but you still need this. You need to be loved."

He pulled his hand away from her sex, eliciting a soft sound of protest from her parted lips.

"You are still Goddess of Love, Freya." He nudged her sex with the head of his cock. "And I do love you. I'm going to prove it to you if it takes eons."

He sank into her with one thrust, her body tight and hot around him, perfect as always. He filled her with his own heat, bathing her essence with the hunger she needed and fought to forget.

Freya the lovely, still punishing herself for Loki's sins. It was the Godkiller reaching from oblivion to tear at her soul with cold, bony hands. Loki's final revenge, and Morpheus would not allow her to fulfill it. Not if he had to fuck her forever.

She moaned under him, trapped by pleasure, transfixed anew by the wonder of knowing that he meant it. He meant it all. Even loving Hades and Persephone with all his being, there was a place in his heart that was hers alone.

For a few moments, Freya allowed herself to forget. Pinned to Yggdrasil, wrapped in Morpheus' arms, sheltered by his indigo wings, the love goddess forgot Eris, forgot Asgaard, forgot her quest and came, feeling nothing but his touch and basking in the purifying fire of Dream's loving.

He was hard inside her, almost cruel, his lips claiming hers, bruising her with his passion. He groaned and growled and she moaned in answer. It was sweet and hot and agonizingly pure as she strained and writhed against him. He was struck again by the fire in her; the heat she'd kept so carefully hidden for so long. She had decided to let him love her, and so she held nothing back. For the first time, Morpheus understood the true nature of her kind of love, and it rocked him to his core, even as he rocked inside hers.

"So fine." He groaned into her fire red hair. "So sweet."

"Yes." She whispered back, her little hips pumping against the rough bark of Yggdrasil. "You are."

He felt her tighten around him, knew she was coming and it tore a strangled howl from his perfect lips as he followed her, surging inside her, coming until stars danced in his eyes. He fell to his knees, dragging her with him, still impaled and coming on his cock.

"I love you." He gasped into her sweat damp neck, thrusting hard as he spent. "I love you."

"I love you." She whispered back. "Dream. God. Lover."

Strife pulled his cock from Cupid's ass just before the love god could come and Cupid cried out, begging.

"Not to worry, sweetness." Mischief growled softly, nipping his lover's lips almost too hard. "I'm just ready for another kind of taste treat, and I want you ready to give it to me."
panted up at his lover, waiting for Strife to surge forward and fill him again. Mischief had other ideas however, and Cupid watched in a haze of hunger as his beloved climbed onto his body.

Strife straddled his body and ran slow hands over his own skin, pinning Cupid's arms and wings under his feet. His pale ass rested on Cupid's chest and strain as he might; the love god could get no contact on his aching cock.

"You want me, baby?" Strife gazed down on Cupid's tight face. "You want to fuck me?"

"Oh gods, Strife." Eros moaned. "Please."

"You're so pretty all upset." Jopanis grinned coldly. "It hurts, doesn't it, baby. The wanting."

"Yessss." Cupid hissed. His lover was usually so careful of him. This Strife was almost cruel. He shivered. He loved it when Strife did something new.

"Good." Mischief's eyes narrowed. "I like you to hurt for me. It makes you shine like a desperate little star."

He ground against Cupid's chest slowly, keeping his cock just out of the reach of Cupid's mouth, still pinning Love's arms to the ground. The winged god sobbed.

"Tell me, baby?" Strife murmured, his gently voice in contrast to the weight of his feet on Cupid's wrists. "Tell me what you want?"

"Oh, please." Cupid panted. "Please. You. Anything. Anyway. Just you."

Strife chuckled.

"Gods, I love the way you beg, pretty boy." Strife's eyes narrowed, gauging Cupid's need. The poor love god was beside himself, aching and hungry, panting through bruised lips. "Oh babe, I'm gonna fuck you so good."

Cupid sobbed again and Mischief grinned evilly. It was time. After all, this was a new game and he didn't want to take Cupid too far his first time out. The merest brush of power was enough to immobilize his lover's arms. Strife rose slightly, lubing himself with a though, then sank down on Cupid's cock so slowly he could feel every millimeter.

Love babbled helplessly, straining against the invisible bonds, head thrashing from side to side. Strife grinned, eyes narrow and lifted himself off of that perfect cock, only to begin the long slow slide down all over again.

"That's right, baby." He coaxed the sobbing love god. "You're so fucking sweet. Whose are you, huh? Who do you belong to?"

"Yours. Strife. 'Panis. Always. Only. Ever. Yours!!!!"

"Then come, baby. Come for me." Strife leaned down and sealed Cupid's trembling lips with his own, riding his winged lover and swallowing the screams as Cupid came hard and long inside him.

"Good boy." Strife chuckled when Cupid collapsed limply under him. The love god shuddered, his spent cock twitching as it slipped from Strife's body. Gently, Mischief cleaned his lover, releasing him from the invisible bonds and gathering the shuddering god into his arms. "Love you, baby."

"Love you, Strife." Cupid gasped. "Love you so much."

Strife cradled his lover close as Cupid slipped into unconsciousness. The poor god needed some rest.

Mimir listened to the game of Frey's son. Another body, then. He remembered how Freya had coolly accepted Asgaard's destruction in the face of one wronged Greek who meant nothing to her personally. He didn't even want to think of what she would do to him were he to steal the body of her nephew's lover.



TITLE: Momma, I'm Coming Home 12/?
SERIES: Rest and Restitution
RATING: NC-17
PAIRINGS: none stated, some implied
WARNINGS: NO SEX.
See 1st chapter for disclaimer
NOTES: *Raven peeks head out shyly, hoping not to lose it.* I am so
sorry this has taken so long. I'm back on track now and almost
finished with the next chapter as well. I hope ya'll will still read
it. Real life gave me a thorough pounding (not a good one) but I'm
back in the saddle again. Thanks for being patient, all.

Sygyn was Loki's wife. Title taken from Ozzy Osbourne.



SUMMARY: How to heal a mad god. Step one.




Freya disentangled herself from Morpheus arms shortly before dawn.
It had been a full and satisfying night. She hadn't been so powerful
in years. Now she had to lay aside foolish dreams and get back to
the matter at hand. If curing Jetticles were dangerous, the boys
would try to help her, and she would not risk them. Especially since
saving her would be pointless. She was as good as dead once the
quest was finished. Mim would have her body, and she would finally
have peace.

Silently, the naked goddess crept into the camp, sneaking past Strife
and Cupid where they slept, wrapped around each other. She looked
down on them for a long moment. They were so lovely. Strife
radiating protectiveness and Cupid's essence thick with pure love.

Morpheus had shredded her borrowed tunic, so she snagged Strife's as
she tip-toed by. Then, carefully, she picked her way over to Mimir's
head.

"Good morning, Godkiller." He whispered when he saw her
sneaking. "What's the plan for today?"

"Don't you know?" She teased him, smiling. Mimir smiled widely back.

"Nope. No eye, no omniscience, thank the Norns." He looked up at
her. "Going to get the cure for the last one?"

"Yeah." She nodded, looking over her shoulder toward where she had
left the sleeping dream god. "I'm ready to get this finished."

"Well then. I can tell you what he needs. How to get it, you'll
have to come up with on your own." Freya nodded to him. He
smiled. "The answer is simple enough. Fenris, the Serpent, all of
Loki's children were crazy at birth. It's something they inherit
from him."

"Some would say that Fenris and the Serpent were crazy all their
lives." Freya said mildly, remembering how Tyr lost his hand.

"They might, but they'd be wrong. Fenris wasn't crazy, he was
pissed, but that's another issue entirely. The fact is all Loki's
kids are born nuts. It's what happens after birth that cools them
off."

"And what is that?" Freya asked, losing patience again. Mim only
grinned at her.

"You know Loki's wife always really loved him, right?"

"Yes, Mim, Sygyn's loyalty was legendary, even among gods. She
stayed by his side in Svartalfheim, trying to ease his captivity.
Hell, it's said that even after he escaped, so devoted was she that
she stayed by the simulacra he left in his prison because she didn't
know it wasn't him." Freya's face twisted at the thought of anyone
lavishing such devotion on the Godkiller. "So what?"

"She's still down there." Mim smirked. "And she has what you need
to cure Loki's son."

Freya went totally still. "What is that?"

"The same thing that cured all his other children of their birth
madness." The god of wisdom taunted her. "Her milk."




Morpheus eyes flickered open to bright sunlight. His body was sore
all over and he grinned widely when he remembered why. With a
satisfied little groan, he rolled over to face his bedmate, preparing
for an encore. There was no one lying at his side. Rolling to his
feet, he looked about for his lover.

"Freya?" He called. No one answered. "Love?"

"Fuck!" He swore, running off toward the well. "Not again."



Freya crept through the realm of Svartalfheim. The magic of the
brisinga necklace kept her hidden, even from the perceptive dwarves.
Generally she did not mind them, in fact there were seven of them of
whom she was rather fond, but she was still a little sore from
Morpheus embraces, and Dwarves were nothing if not randy.

How her nephew had come to have a larval Voidspider asleep on his
lapel, she did not know, but the glassine blob was decent company,
and Freya couldn't risk going back to return it. She didn't want her
boys anywhere near even a simulacrum of Loki.

She'd snuck past the dwarves meadhall and was headed into the deepest
parts of the underworld when she heard the sound of sweet singing.
Closing her eyes and sighing she followed the dulcet tones.
Apparently, Mim was right and Sygyn was still faithful. The question
was, how to get such a faithful wife to give up her milk for Loki's
sworn enemy.

Freya jogged through the labyrinthine caverns of the Dwarvenheim,
following the sound of her quarry's song. It rang through the still,
damp air like diamonds or starlight, bouncing off the walls to
shatter and skitter across the stony floors like gems in the dark.
Finally, Freya saw a dim greenish light ahead of her and she slowed
to a walk, then to a silent creep, peeking cautiously around a corner.

In the center of a large cavern was a pool of roiling green acid. It
glowed like sick moonlight in the chamber and the rock around it was
pitted from its touch. The sweet song was coming from further down
the corridor, and it was interspersed with words now.

"I'm sorry, my dearest." The still flawless voice murmured between
verses. "I'm so sorry."

Freya could make out the sound of a pain filled moan under the
soothing sound of the lonely goddess. Loki's simulacra was still
working.

"It's almost full, my treasured one." The voice lamented. "I'm so
sorry. But I'll be quick. You'll see. I'll hurry. I won't be a
moment. Then I'll be back. Yes. Back. And I shall sing to you
some more."

There was the sound of movement and then the air was rent by
screaming the likes of which Freya had never heard. Under the
horrible sounds she caught the soft flapping of bare feet on stone.
Somehow, the goddess of love had expected Sygyn to be unchanged. She
was unprepared for the sight that confronted her.

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