Disclaimer: I don't own God of War. You're insane if you think otherwise.

A/N: As said in the summary, this is set years before the game, specifically when Kratos met his to-be wife. And since she was never named in the game, I named her myself (it's pronounced uh-lay-luh by the way. Heaven knows I had a hard enough time figuring out how it was supposed to sound).

Heart's Rebellion

She turned over onto her side and, still deep in sleep, her hand reached out, searching for the warm body she had fallen asleep beside. She grasped at nothing more than linen loosing its warmth.

Kratos looked over his shoulder as he felt the woman in his bed stirring. He watched her hand for a few seconds and then looked to her face, noting the small furrow in her brow. He let out a hollow chuckle, a half-hearted smirk on his lips as the woman tried so hard, even in a state of unconsciousness, to find him. To hold him with a grip he had never felt before.

She made a fist, holding the sheet tightly in her delicate hand, making due with what she could hold for the time being. He shook his head and then craned his neck to rest his head on folded hands, arms resting on spread thighs. The woman sprawled across his bed like a fallen Goddess had been his nighttime partner over the course of the last few nights.

The woman's name was Alala, and Kratos should have hated her.

He met her days ago – how long ago exactly didn't matter anymore. The night was hot and humid, and the fires burning in the distance set by Kratos himself helped the thickness in the air none. He found her in a tavern; she had been the one to stand her ground against the Spartan war lord. It amused him and his amusement interested her, and her more than obvious interest fueled a desire in Kratos.

Not long after, he took her as just another woman, charming her into his bed easily with a crude and dangerous approach that never seemed to fail. She was in no position to resist him and gladly gave herself to him. But Kratos never once imagined he would be taking the lovely Alala into his bed for more than one night.

The sex was sensational, but he'd had better, therefore that could not have been what kept Alala in his bed every night. No, there was something more. An attraction based on more than her body. Something fatal for someone like Kratos. He couldn't afford to become attached to another living soul.

"Kratos," Alala murmured, snapping the man sitting on the edge of the bed from his reverie. She groaned softly and stretched out, running sharp nails gently across the small of his back; he rolled his shoulders, trying to ride himself of the tingle running up his spine. "Kratos, come back to bed," she said lazily, a sleepy smile on her face.

Kratos sighed, keeping his eyes on the floor beneath his feet, gaze narrowed in a glare he couldn't bring himself to bestow on the woman in his bed. Very slowly his eyes closed; if he prayed to the Gods hard enough, maybe she would go away – just disappear from his bed and take the odd throb in his heart with her.

The sound of movement and the sudden body warmth against his back told Kratos he had no such luck, though. Alala's hands wandered over his chest until they locked around his midriff, her smaller frail form too easily holding him captive.

"Kratos," she said quietly, resting her forehead against the back of his shoulder, "please."

Her breath on his skin gave him goosebumps and he sighed again before twisting himself out of her grasp and pinning her beneath him.

Her name was Alala and Kratos didn't hate her half as much as he would have liked. He simply told himself such a wicked untruth for the last few days because he couldn't dare to come to terms with reality.

He was falling in love, and he couldn't bring himself to hate the affects she was having on his heart any longer. Tonight, he would truly make her his.

-End