After a farewell that nearly verged on tears, Xena left Hercules and Iolus and headed off in any direction that would take her away. She quickly dashed her fingers against her cheek to fling off any tears that might have dared to spill despite their mistress's forebodance. In a nearby town, she made a quick stop at a blacksmith's to pick up the new set of armor she had ordered, and after quickly changing into them, she sold her old set for scraps and headed back on the road again. Walking down the densely shaded path, Xena took in a heavy breath, holding tighter to the reins of her horse as she led it quickly away from the direction of Elysia.

Xena's eyes were focused on the road ahead of her, and as she walked on, her gaze became steely.

"Don't you know you can't kill me?! Ares is on my side!"

Xena gritted her teeth, but her shoulders tensed in uneasiness. Darphus. He had bragged about having Ares's favor. Bragged to her face. Her eyes darted from either side of the dirt road, trying to focus on maintaining her guard.

"Only the gods have the power to bring Darphus back from the dead," Hercules said. "I can bet which one it is."

Xena maintained her composure. "That means nothing to me."

Xena sighed at the recollection. That hadn't been entirely true. It did mean something to her. But whatever it did mean couldn't get in the way of finishing the task they'd had. Push it out of your mind for now, she'd thought to herself at the time. Push it out of your mind that this is Ares you're fighting against this time.

She resisted the urge to spit. She'd been on the straight and narrow for a matter of days and already he was after her for what he would have termed "poor life choices". The last contact she'd had with him had been months ago, or was it almost a year? After inhabiting the body of her then first lieutenant Philomides, Ares had discussed battle plans with her and informed her of his other loyal bands' movements.

"Are you telling me this so I can steer clear of them, or so I can take them at will?" she asked, arching a brow as she leaned into her fur covered chair. She raised a wine goblet to her lips which curled around the rim into a small smile.

Ares, eased comfortably inside Philomides like a parasite leeching from its host, matched her smile with his own as he took a grape from a nearby dish. "Whichever you prefer, my dear," he said, popping the grape into his mouth and savoring the flavor as he bit into the fruit.

Xena gave a low laugh as she replaced the goblet on the table and leaned in close to Philomides's body. "But what would you prefer?" she purred.

Philomides wasn't an ugly man by any means, but he also wasn't the type who needed any 'intimate' encouragement from Xena to do his job. While Ares had possessed her men before to speak with her, she always found it strange that the possession was so seamless and so without outward sign of the divine power clearly within. She always knew when it was Ares, though. She couldn't be fooled. There were ways of knowing. Her men moved nothing like Ares and Ares moved and spoke nothing like her men. There was also the inexplicable presence. As she moved in closer this time, she looked into his eyes. Philomides naturally had a strange reddish, greenish mix to his eyes but as Xena gazed into them, as if knowing what she was searing for, he smiled at her and his eyes flickered to a deep amber. Xena froze, catching herself before she could flinch away from the shocking effect, and as she blinked saw that his eyes returned just as quickly back to normal.

His hand was caressing her upper arm now, and on instinct Xena turned her head to look. Her heart was pounding. "What I would prefer…" he answered slowly, recapturing her gaze with his own. "…is for you to take those quarreling bands…" He raised his other hand to rest under her chin as his eyes shifted to her lips. "…and unite them under one banner," he concluded. He lifted her chin with the crook of his finger. "Your banner." She stared down into those eyes where no one but the God of War looked back and her gazed hardened into jagged ice. "You've been all over the known world, Xena," he continued. Although he spoke with Philomides voice, she could hear nothing of that man as this one spoke to her. "The world quakes at the very mention of your name!" Xena was enraptured. It was if the hand on her arm and the fingertips on her chin were on fire. "Only Greece alone- our home- has yet to fully appreciate the limitless talents of the Warrior Princess!" His voice increased in passion but was now down to a whisper as he moved his face closer to hers, his voice caressing her ears as his hands rested on either side of her face. "Take them, Xena!" he cried in a throaty whisper. "I have brought them into existence for you! Take them, and then take Greece! And together you and I will create a world forged by the bloody heat of a blade but governed by the code of one great woman."

Xena was gone. The flame in his touch and the passion of his words simultaneously steeled her pride for vicious battle and left her ripe for the rough lovemaking that followed. The next morning, Philomides would find himself inexplicably outside and propped up against the camp well. Xena watched from the secrecy of her tent as he awoke.

"Been hitting the ale again, aye, Philomides? Heheh," one of her men said to him, patting him heartily on the back as he went to draw water for the day. Her eyes followed him as he shook his head vigorously and rose to his feet in apparent disorientation. As he did so, he flinched slightly. Spreading his legs a bit, he tried to discretely grab at his codpiece and adjust it, confusion plastered on his face as he proceeded to gingerly walk to his own tent. Xena arched a brow with a slight smirk and drew back down the flap.

As she recalled that last encounter, Xena's pace on the road back in the present slowed down rapidly to a halt. Turning quickly to her horse, she buried her face in its mane. Part of her wanted to melt back into the memories of that night, and even there, now- even after everything she'd been through with Hercules- she could still feel those eyes latched onto hers telling her the world was theirs for the taking. Her fists clenched around the poor beast's mane when with a sudden growl she pushed away and mounted the horse. Xena spurred it into a hard and sudden gallop. She wanted to ride through it- ride through the memories and the shattered intentions that never came to be- all those shallow plans that now laid meaninglessly strewn about her mind yet still tried to overwhelm her with their gravity. She rode fast and steady for several minutes until she pulled on the reigns and guided them off the beaten path and down a small trail that eventually led to a clearing with a large domed structure ribbed in obsidian.

She hitched the horse to the long post set up along the wall of the building and stood at the foot of the stairs. Two long, red banners flanked either side of the heavy doors, signifying the temple of the God of War. She breathed in deeply, went up the stairs, and pulled open the door. Inside was dark, almost pitch dark, but she waited, even closing her eyes momentarily, to allow the flickering candlelight to do its work. It wasn't the largest of the god's temples- just a shrine for passing warriors to pay tribute. A lone old man who, despite his obvious age, still had a good bit of lean muscle on him, emerged from some unknown alcove.

"Xena!" he cried in welcome. She blinked, still adjusting to the darkness.

"Do I know you?" she replied defensively.

"The priests of Ares know all our Lord's best warriors. Especially his favorites," he quipped back, with what she could swear was a glimmer in his eye. Xena's lip curled slightly in dismay.

There was a long pause as the two stood in the hall saying nothing- the priest staring at Xena and Xena staring at the decorations.

"I've come to end it," she said finally and clearly, her words echoing off the temple walls.

"End it…?" the old man queried, his tone skeptical. Xena nodded.

"I'm quitting. I don't want to do it anymore," she added, her confidence slowly returning as her gaze shifted into disinterest. She rested her arm casually on the hilt of her sword as she looked back at the priest.

The priest, on the other hand, looked rather unimpressed with the warrior woman's statement. "And what plans, pray tell, do you have that would amount to more importance than fighting for the glory of our Lord Ares, young lady?"

Xena pursed her lips, momentarily turning her head away. "I'm going home," she said quietly.

"You're what?"

"I'm going home, old man, are you deaf?"

Her voice echoed from the walls again and she flinched. The priest put out a steading hand. "No…no, not deaf. Just incredulous."

Xena arched a brow as the man turned away and approached the altar at the far side of the room and seemed to lose himself in prayer. Xena waited, expecting him to come back, but figured she had lost his interest. Sighing, she started to turn away when his voice filled the hall again.

"You know he won't let you leave that easily," he called after her, hands raised up in worship of his god. Xena turned back and nervously fingered the gilding on the pommel of her sword.

"I realize that," she replied, without looking up.

"Then what do you intend to do about it?" he asked, never moving from his spot.

Xena paused. Her mind raced and churned through her options. Changing sides meant betraying these old alliances. More than anything she wanted to earn the forgiveness of her mother. How could she show she wasn't a betrayer and still go home?

"I plan," she began, "…to lay down my sword. I won't be fighting anymore. For anyone."

At this, the old priest did turn his head to the side to peer at her from the corner of his eye. "Is this what Hercules has prescribed for you then? Is this his blasphemous suggestion for 'cleansing' you of what are all your good works for the god Ares?"

Xena's breath caught in her throat. "What?" she cried, taking a step forward. "Hercules? How do you know about that?"

The priest scoffed. "Lord Ares knows all."

Xena's breath quickened. "Is Ares here? Now? Let me speak to him!" she demanded, and almost instantly the priest broke into howls of cackling laughter. The din was so harsh that Xena found herself retreating slightly as she covered her ears with her hands. He turned to face her.

"What makes you think," he began pointedly, turning to face her. His voice was all staccato. "...that Lord Ares would come and speak to you at your whim, especially now that you renounce him?"

Xena tried to brush off his hauteur and move forward again. "Well will you ask him at least?" she pleaded stubbornly.

The old priest pulled himself up to his full height, displaying the frame of a once formidable man that Xena could briefly envision being a terror on the field of battle. "I have served Lord Ares these forty-two years, and I tell you now- he has no time to waste on would-be cowards," he spat.

Xena flinched as if he had physically hurled the last word at her. She could think of nothing to say as he continued.

"And although you may lay down your sword, who knows if your sudden lack of worth may save you from his vengeance, or from the vengeance of those you've fought against." The man's bottom lip quivered with feeling as he lectured her, "But the gods know you may try it. And if it doesn't work, there is always the other way out, for cowards like you."

"And what is that?" Xena shot back angrily. She clenched her teeth as the old man's lips curled into a vicious smile.

"Flinging yourself on your own sword, of course. The perfect end for treacherous deserting scum of the cause!" he declared venomously before swooping back around and giving all his attentions to the holy altar before him.

Xena stood there, eyes wide, as she took shallow breaths trying to fend off panic. Maybe it would work, she thought. She'd not been back in Greece long, after all- only a couple of years. Ares had plenty of other warriors. He wouldn't, shouldn't, miss her.

Grasping hold of the heavy iron handle again, Xena slowly opened the temple door and went back to her horse. She absorbed herself in the encounter she just had. Would she really have to kill herself to escape in the end? Absurd, she instantly thought, and blinked at how quickly she came to such a conclusion when the priest inside the temple had been so supportive of it. As she collected her things from her horse, she questioned the rationality of what she planned to do. Could she really lay down the sword for good? Could she really go home and start again, leading a life that helped others rather than destroy them? She'd done so, so many terrible things. Maybe she did deserve to take the coward's way out and do everyone a favor, she thought to herself bitterly.

"You're wrong. There's the goodness in your heart."

She closed her eyes as Hercules's words rang through her mind. She clung to those words, and gathering her things, she left the horse tethered at the temple and walked straight into the woods. She walked for hours, only having a rough idea in which direction she was actually headed. She knew she was headed somewhat north and that the sea was to her right, and that's all that mattered because that was the way home. Eventually she got tired of carrying everything, and happening along a narrow path, started to dig a hole in the ground. When she was finished, she rose and stared down at her work. Slowly, her fingers found their way to the laces of her new gauntlets, and slowly, she found herself removing them and tossing them into the hole. Next came her breastplate, and soon after her leg greaves. Almost as if unconsciously, one by one, they went into the earthen hole, when finally came her sword and chakram. On these, she hesitated, admiring the craftsmanship of her new sword- of all her newly gotten armor. It was a shame. Clang went the sword into the makeshift pit, and finally….

She eyed her chakram warily. Maybe she could keep this one. Her fingers traced over the exotic designs as her mind wandered back to the night it fell into her hands. Ares, she whispered in the back of her mind, and there, even in the woods, she could almost feel that presence again. Blood still smeared on her god-given gift, it followed its companions into the pit. Xena fell to her knees and steadily began to bury it.

This is it, I bury you all. I bury my armor, my sword, my divine favor, my past…..

Tears threatened to fall from her eyes again when the cries of women started filling her mind. For a split second she thought they were ghosts of the past finally coming to collect their due when the heavy footfalls of soldiers persuaded her otherwise. Blending into a nearby bush, she peered out unseen as a gang of slavers rounded up a horde of villagers with one, small blond girl in blue standing defiantly against all danger…

—

The priest of Ares sat in violent meditation in worship of his Lord when a voice filled his mind just as his own voice had filled the very hall against the defector Xena moments before.

"Briseus…"

The voice was deep and the old man knew it at once. Quickly he rose to his feet and his eyes flicked here and there across the dark temple ceiling. "Yes, my Lord! I am here!"

"I'm disappointed in you, Briseus…" it continued. The priest's eyes widened with a hint of fear.

"M-my Lord! Impossible! What could I have done to displease you?" he said, his old body betraying his mind by trembling.

"You said some rather unsavory things to Xena earlier. Was that really the best move you had?" it queried in a patronizing tone.

The man blinked furiously in confusion.

"M-m-my Lord? What could you mean? You don't mean to say you intended to keep a traitor, do you?"

There was a pause as the voice remained silent. The old priest held up his hands in worship as he nervously awaited an answer.

"Normally, Briseus…you would be correct. But Xena's no traitor."

The man visibly huffed. "But my Lord, if you were listening, clearly she said—"

"What she said," it interrupted, "And what's in her soul are two very different things. What you heard was the poison injected into my commander by my bastard brother Hercules…."

The priest waited, his hands still raised, knowing better after so many years of service than to interrupt his god on a tangent about the halfling.

"It's no tangent, Briseus," the god replied, reading his servant's thoughts, "And I assure you that Hercules is a very relevant player to this…disruption."

The man's lip wavered slightly at being caught out but struggled to pull himself together in his god's presence. "Then what shall be the plan of action, my Lord?"

A pause.

"Send word to every loyal camp- Hercules must die. First to bring his severed head into my temple will command my legions."

The priest nodded vigorously, making sure he remembered every word of his order. "A-and the woman, my Lord? Xena?"

Suddenly, the temple seemed eerily quiet. Everything in it stopped save for the rasping breath of its aged caretaker.

"Xena I will bring back personally. Mention no word of her visit here and its contents to another soul."

The old man pursed his lips in an attempt to stifle protest.

"Is that understood, Briseus?" the voice asked testily.

"Yes, my Lord," the priest said, bowing with more than a hint of resignation.

"I have such plans for Xena, Briseus," he continued as the man held himself in obeisance. "Such beautiful plans…."

A/N: Whoops, stole another story title from something else. Ah well. This story was written after going back through the original three Xena episodes from "Hercules", with a great deal of gratuitous fast-forwarding through Xena and Herc's 'intimate' scene because come on. Anyway, the next we see Xena in SOTP, she's in her new armor but suddenly burying it, and what about Ares having come after her through Darphus? Too many unanswered questions- this was my attempt at answering them. Let me know what you think!