3 The Goddess of Beauty

Achilles walked with the Freya entourage through the streets of Orario in mostly silence. He did ask Ottar a few questions about what had happened over the past fifteen years and about the boaz himself, which were answered in his usual stoic, but polite manner. Most of his time though was spent watching the people they passed by and the looks on their faces. He didn't begrudge them the stares, as the sight was surely quite something. Achilles himself was actually quite impressed by what Freya had sent to collect him. She was certainly taking his return seriously enough. And, in a way, it was amusing. He was simultaneously the safest person in Orario and in the most danger. He allowed himself a chuckle in order to ease his mind before what was to come. Gods knew, he was going to need all the calm he could collect if he was going to deal with the goddess of beauty.

His question of whether they were heading towards the Tower or to Folkvangr were answered as the palace came into view.

"I guess she wants to ensure I'm on my best behavior by completely surrounding me with her familia. Either that or she wants to parade me in front of them like a prize," he thought as his smile disappeared.

Entering the Freya home quickly garnered the attention of all those inside. Whether or not they had been told of his arrival, Achilles didn't know, but even if they had, they were evidently surprised he had come under such heavy guard.

Achilles began to inspect the Freya familia. None, of course, were as powerful as those escorting him, but they were equally as, if not even more beautiful in one form or another. Some had a classic beauty to them. Some an exotic. Some had a cuteness to them that screamed for the less restrained elements of society to come and taint them. All of them pulled you in.

"Just how Freya likes it," he thought as his frown deepened.

Finally, after gaining a substantial crowd around them, they arrived at what Achilles assumed was the throne room. He was proved correct when the doors opened and a long, elegant hall appeared before him. Everything about it was perfect to the minutest detail. From the currents, a deep, alluring purple, no doubt made of silk; to the elaborately carved columns, colored to perfectly match the hair of the goddess whose home this was.

Finally, all the way at the end of the hall, on a throne fit, not for a king, but for an empress, a wine glass in her hand and her unwavering smile on her face, sat Freya.

Achilles's knuckles turned white at the sight of her, but he took a quick breath and put on a smile. If she meant to tease him, he'd send it right back at her with his own smile.

They entered the throne room, and then a pair of lesser Freya familia members, left, closing the doors behind them to ensure privacy, much to the curious onlookers dissatisfaction.

They approached the throne and Achilles noticed that her smile and beauty seemed to grow with each step.

"Concentrate. Do not be Charmed."

Finally, when they were only a few paces away, the group that had escorted him broke apart, with all but Ottar surrounding him with eyes that threatened severe reprisal should Achilles do anything against their lady. Not that Achilles was worried about them. Only Ottar was of true concern to him, and he watched as his fellow level seven took his place beside his goddess.

"Achilles," a sultry voice called, nabbing his attention as a shiver went up his spine. "It's good to see you again."

He was able to keep smiling at her, a small victory he was happy he won.

"I'd say the same to you, Freya, but you'd know it was a lie and that would make me a rude guest."

The cat from earlier growled.

"You disrespectful piece of-."

Freya raised her hand to stop her wayward familia, but this proved unnecessary as a sudden pressure fell over the room, disturbing all but Ottar and Freya.

"Once again, I do not believe I was talking to you, pussy cat," Achilles said, his eyes glaring down at the level six. "I was speaking to your mistress and unless you'd like to be her new throw rug, you. Will. Remain. Silent."

Allen, as much as he hated to admit to himself, and would deny if anyone ever asked, with threat of violent, was intimidated by the man before him. Ottar had seemed so sure when he said the man could kill him, and now he was truly beginning to believe his superior wasn't lying.

Achilles, for his part, was glad to be given the chance to put himself on stronger footing. He was deep within enemy territory facing the last person in the world he wanted to see, but he'd be damned if he backed down without a fight.

A soft laugh however, was all that was needed for him to know that he had gained nothing.

"I'm glad to see your spirit hasn't lost any of its fire. And your aura," her smile grew. "Seems brighter than last time I saw you. Why is that, pray tell?"

He did not like the way she said that. Her tone suggested she knew something already and that only made that shiver up his spine that much worse.

"What do you want, Freya? You already know why I've returned, what more do you want?"

"Indeed. You're here for my dear Bell."

"Your-?" his eyes widened. "You want to claim him."

Her unwavering smile said it all.

Fury filled him all the way to his core. Wrath and fury burst from his pores and his eyes turned unreservedly malevolent.

"Leave. The boy. Alone," he demanded, his hand falling towards his sword. "Or I swear to every god," he began to unsheathe it. "I don't care how many of your familia get in my way," the blade was now out. "I don't care if Ottar tears me apart limb from limb," he pointed it at the goddess, causing all of the Freya members to grab their weapons, even Ottar, who placed his hand on his sword. "I will drag you back to Heaven kicking and screaming by your hair!"

A pulse of his power burst forth and shattered all the windows in the room, and, if the cries of alarm were any indication, a few outside the room.

The threat hung heavily in the air for but a few moments, though to the mortals it felt like years, but ended the second they heard it.

Freya's laughter.

It wasn't unrestrained or bolsterous, but there was a boundless mirth to it that unnerved Achilles to no end. Finally, as she calmed down, she looked him straight in the eye, snatching control of his body away from him in the process.

"Oh Achilles, you saying that just makes me want him more."

His mouth fell open.

"She goaded me. She knew how to get under my skin and knew how I'd react. She played me."

He slowly lowered his sword and his eyes, mortification and anger eating at his heart before he painfully returned his sword to his sheath, like a dog retreating back to its kennel with its tail between its legs.

"He's just a boy. A good, honest, sweet boy. Why?" he growled. "Why are you after him?"

Freya didn't answer immediately. He suspected that she was taking her enjoyment out of seeing his defeat, and better yet, his realization of his defeat. Finally though, she answered.

"You remember those lessons I use to give you about a person's aura?"

He looked back up at her, his teeth bared.

"Yes."

"Bell's aura is unique, even for me. His is completely clear and shines as brightly as a star."

"Clear?" Achilles anger dissipated and was replaced by confusion. "That's impossible. That would mean he's a completely unique entity. Uncolored by past lives and reincarnations."

"That's right," Freya said, her smile even more pleased. "And…?"

"And," he thought for a moment. "That would mean even his parents weren't reincarnated. Their souls would have colored his, at least somewhat. They were also unique entities, which can only mean spirits or…" he stopped himself, his eyes shot back to Freya who knew what he was about to say, and smiled eagerly for him to finish.

"Or?"

"Or gods."

Freya nodded, clearly and very much pleased by his answer.

"Well, we already know he's the grandson of Zeus," she said.

His anger returned in full force. It was only natural that, with the information Mia and the girl, Syr had provided her, that she would know by now Bell's connection to Zeus. It didn't help that he was there either. A regular person with a bit of common sense could have figured it out, as Achilles had suggested to Loki, and Freya was certainly no regular person.

"But that's not all," Freya continued, wanting to keep Achilles off-guard.

"Not only is his strength formidable and the speed of his ascent amazing to say the least." Achilles grew nervous at this. While it appeared that the Hestia familia had done all in its power to keep Liaris Freeze a secret, including, if not especially from Bell himself, if Freya had truly desired to know why he had grow so quickly, or had used her intellect to think on the matter, he had little doubt she would find the answer. "But he continues to surprise me."

"Normally I'd say you were lying," Achilles stated, causing a few of the Freya familia to reached for their weapons as they glared at him. "But that is an apt description of him. He is surprising in all the best ways," he conceded.

Freya's smile seemed even more pleased, if that was possible. Perhaps it was for this reason that she decided to descend from her throne and make her way over to Achilles.

The sight of the goddess moving towards him caused Achilles to instantly tense up and grab his sword again. The Freya familia had their own weapons at the ready, except for Ottar, who was calm now, for he knew his mistress better than anyone, and he knew that, if she was approaching the former captain, she was in complete control of the situation.

"I'm so glad you agree," Freya said when she was but a single pace away from Achilles, staring directly into his eyes.

Their eyes did battle for a time. Her heavenly silver versus his electric blue. This was a battle he was desperate to win, desperate to show this goddess that his will would not be broken by her. But, as hard as he tried, he felt her Charm wash through him in an endless wave of sinful warmth. So many things were promised in that gaze. So many things he could not allow himself to accept, no matter how badly a whisper in the back of his mind begged or demanded he accept. He tried, he truly did, to hold her gaze. To make her see his strength and retreat, but he knew it was over when the first drip of sweat rolled down his temple. Worse yet, she knew too, and this time, he didn't even need to see her lips to know how pleased she was. Her eyes said it all and a new wave of terrible ecstasy passed through and forced him to turn his gaze lest he drown.

His breath heavy and labored, he was not even given a moment of respite before he heard Freya's voice behind him.

"Perhaps you can shed some light on something I heard."

He quickly turned to try and look at her again, forcing himself to do battle again, only to find nothing there.

Two hands suddenly appeared on his shoulders. The warmth he felt earlier was nothing compared to what he felt now. Direct contact that almost brought him to his knees. Perhaps it might have, had Achilles not been able to conjure up memories of the past and reawaken his hate.

"What?" he said through gritted teeth.

For a moment, things were silent. Had Achilles had more control of his body and been able to turn to Freya, he might have seen the twinkling of surprise in her eyes at his continued resistance. But that was unlikely, for it lasted but a moment, before an even greater pleasure filled them.

"So strong," she purred inwardly.

She leaned in next to his ear.

"Ishtar told me something interesting before I sent her back to Heaven."

"Ishtar?" Achilles said, using his hatred to force his knees from shaking.

"Yes. She told me that our Charm ability doesn't work on Bell-kun. Now, why is that, my dear Olympian?"

Achilles mind was reeling. His senses were overloaded, and now he was being provided information that changed the entire world perception of gods and goddesses of beauty.

"Bell can resist Charm? How? Does it have something to do with his skill? That's all I can think of in this state. Fucking damnit, she's turning me into her plaything. And how the fuck could Ishtar know th-."

His eyes widened as pieces of a different puzzle fell into place.

He turned to Freya, wide eyed.

"You destroyed Ishtar familia for him."

Freya was clearly content with him figuring this out and nodded.

"Yes. She tried to claim what wasn't hers. She didn't know her place, and so I punished her. But before I did, she told me that Bell resisted her Charm and that leads to a question I so would love answered. And, as much as I'd love to ask him in person, I so desperately wanted to see you, and I thought you would be kind enough to tell me."

Part of him was screaming to do just that. She had amplified her charm and he was now close to cracking and giving her what she wanted. Everything she wanted.

"No! Remember! Remember! REMEMBER!"

A series of terrible images passed through his mind. A promise. A monster. A family gone. And a smile. A terrible smile.

His eyes hardened and he turned, glaring at Freya.

"All I know," he growled. "Is that you. Freya, goddess of beauty," he closed whatever distance there was between them so that he could now stare down at her. "Is that you. Will never. Claim. BELL!"

His voice shook the very halls, deafening Allen and the elven pair for a moment, and startling even Ottar who had not expected his rival to be able to resist his goddess. That being said, it did bring a smile to his face.

"Good to see your strength hasn't faded."

Freya, for her part, just stared up at Achilles. Not in fear, or even shock. No, the look in her eyes was something different.

Awe.

She had thrown her Charm at him, fully, and unreservedly. Pushed him to the brink of collapsing into her waiting arms, yet here he was. Resisting her. His power shaking the very room. It sent a tingle up her spine that was so delightful it threatened to overpower her.

"So strong. So unyielding. Even more so than before. His doubts are leaving him and his aura," her eyes took in his aura, a wonderful blue that one could get lost in. For years it had been dulled, but now, it shined almost as brightly as it had fifteen years ago, and that excited her.

"You will not claim Bell. I will not allow it," he said firmly, and without a hint of doubt.

Yet Freya still smiled. This was a challenge, and one she would delightfully partake in.

"You forget, Achilles-kun," she reached out her hand towards his cheek. "I always get what I want in the end."

Her hand was stopped by his own grabbing it. This made the Freya familia positively furious. They were ready to tear him apart limb for limb for that offense, and probably would have tried had Freya not held up her hand.

"And you've apparently forgotten, Freya-chan," he spat. "But you've already failed once."

He threw down her arm and turned to leave. However, he made it only a few paces before he heard something.

She was laughing again.

Even more beautiful than before, it was like a song passing through the air, pulling all towards it and gently subduing them in a net of sweet promises and fiery desire.

"Oh Achilles," she said happily. "I will claim Bell, just like I'll claim you."

The room fell silent. For a long moment one could swear, in all honesty, that crypts and graveyards were noisier than the great hall of the Freya familia. But then, a crackling sound appeared, and grew louder. And louder. And a light appeared. Blue in color and furious in nature, the light and sound grew until it deafened and blinded the room.

Achilles turned, his body. His whole body, from his toes to his eyes, was covered in a sapphire lightning. His face, normally a terror to behold in his rage, now could shake the foundations of the earth with its wrath. And his eyes, now nothing more than an abyss of turquoise light, were pointed directly at Freya.

Now her familia acted without reserve. They jumped to intercept Achilles, none faster than Ottar, who, sword in hand, was prepared to take whatever blow Achilles had prepared for his lady. But even he, the King of Orario, was too slow.

Quick as the lightning that now surrounded him, Achilles raised his hand and short a bolt towards the goddess.

A cry went out through the room from her familia, yet, she did not even blink.

The bolt shot passed her, flying until it hit her throne and obliterated it, showering stone and metal shrapnel through the room.

Freya looked down. She grabbed a lock of her hair and smiled. It was singed

By the time she looked back up, Achilles was at the doors and pushed them open with such force that they flew off their hinges and down the hall, startling and injuring some of her familia, though none dared stop him for the offense.

"My lady, are you alright?" Ottar asked.

"Yes Ottar," she reassured him. "But it looks like I'll need a haircut," she said, waving the burnt strands about.

"We'll kill him!" Allen screamed, ready to make chase along with all others present.

"No," Freya said gently. "You will do no such thing." Allen looked at her in disbelief. "He is my beloved, and I shall have him, just as he is, just like I will have Bell Cranel," she informed Allen and the others. And with that, the matter was settled. Any hatred her children may have had for Achilles, had to be silenced. She desired he live, and Freya always got what she wanted.

"And I have never wanted him as much as I do now," she thought twirling the strand of hair, images of a future where both Bell and Achilles were hers filling her mind in absolutely delectable ways. "Oh yes. I will have him and Bell. It's only a matter of time."

She licked her lips.