Compelling Association

Ares, God of War, meets Xena, warlord, for the very first time.

Disclaimers:
The following story is classified as Fan Fiction. The characters of Xena, Gabrielle and others who have appeared in the series, Xena: Warrior Princess, are the property of MCA/Universal Television and Renaissance Pictures. I only borrowed them. The story itself is mine and cannot be redistributed in any form without my consent.

by LZClotho
(c) January 1998

PROLOGUE

Ten Winters Ago - Chin.

After failing to live up to Lao Ma's hopes for her, Xena led Borias back toward her homeland Greece. They subjugated towns and cities of ancient might, ruling a strip of conquered lands from the Himalayas south and west to the Carpathian Mountains.

When word reached Greece that Xena and her army were coming, there was hardly any mention of her second, Borias. This rankled the man. They battled and fought and loved and hated. It was a match of passions, both base and conquering.

Xena gave him back command, which through sheer presence she had stolen on the ride from Chin. Whether it was intentional or just the men turned to her, Borias never knew. Really it didn't matter. Men followed a warrior, and Xena had proven better than he in their eyes. But men would follow him when she demanded it. More ruthless than any man who had ever led men, Xena was given the title "Destroyer of Nations" by the army of men who reaped the spoils from wars directed by the almost godlike tactical skills of the slightly built vicious warrior woman. They called her "lady" when daring to speak to her. They called her "goddess of war" when alone, sleepless, in rough tents camped outside another conquerable city.

Word reached Ares, God of War, as well it might, when murmurrings about a 'goddess' muscling in on his domain crawled even into his earthly minions, currently conducting a campaign against a warlord named Ghenghis Khan.

Ares left his earthly troops to fight his battle to keep the Chinese gods from the Greek world and descended toward a war camp, nestled in the mountain range east of Greece. There he found he had descended into the hell that was the world under Xena, Destroyer of Nations...

CHAPTER ONE - HAIL AND WELL MET

The steams of the earth blanketed the land still, when a leather-
tunic-clad warrioress with raven tresses sprang atop a rock precipice above the raging waterfall. A rainbow was painted in the mists by the water crashing into the jagged stones below. Fearless, even negligently confident in the face of the danger, she rested on the balls of her bare feet performing sword drills that sliced through the air with a speed the human eye could barely trace. The weapon caught the sunlight briefly over her head, beneath her shoulders and swirling around her body. The flashing metal in her hands was a virtually impenetrable defense.

Unknown to the intent warrior was her observer on this morning. Except for his crouching, veiled form in the bushes, just beyond where she could see, this morning seemed like a year's worth of other mornings.

Xena flowed over the rock surface. Her deadly dance, filled with leaps and arching plummets, was accompanied by a deadlier dance by sword. Imaginary enemies met Hades every stroke.

Her observer knew skill when he saw it. The God of War sensed no godliness within her. Yet he could not help thinking, as mortal men did when witnessing the spectacle, "She is a true goddess." All others were merely pretenders to the title.

Ares combed his mind, all his memories, for even one prayer of thanksgiving or request for supremacy in battle thrown his way by the warrior woman before him. Being able to recall not a single one both mystified and miffed him.
Who is she? Where did she come from? He dimly associated her with a girl child he'd taunted one of his favored about. "A girl child? How could you think to bring a girl child to the God of War?" Now he knew the Amphipolitan had sensed something special in his daughter. Too bad he had passed off the words as drunken boast. There wasn't time to regret his oversight now. Ares returned his attention to the spectacle before him.

In his eagerness to know more, Ares nearly stepped from his veil of concealment. What on Olympus am I thinking? Well, he'd have to think about this. How to approach her?

Certainly he could not appear as himself. That wouldn't do. She had shown no indication that she cared to know the God of War, no matter how skillfully she put to use the passions, skills, and desires for conquest which were his dominions within mortals.

But he wanted to match his skill to hers, amazingly not sure if he or she would be victorious. Seeing her mastery in his area of dominance enthralled him. His muscled arms ached with the desire to face her in friendly competition or contested match. What would it be like?

Not even Ghenghis Khan beaten and trussed, swearing his soul to the Greek god, could compete with Ares' sudden vision of the woman before him swearing allegiance. Her blue eyes would flash with a fire mirroring his own (or that of his own, referring to the fire flashing in his eyes). She would come to him, so caught in the passions of war they would set the world ablaze with conquering ecstasy and destructive will raging through them.

So Ares did what he'd only done on a few other occasions. He appeared to her in disguise. Not to seduce but to join her.

He made his way to the village next on her path of pillage and submission. She was just past twenty summers old, so he made himself similar in appearance, and moved among her conquered, submitting himself to the chained bondage common for prisoners of war. In the march to the camp's cages, he accepted the lashes for pausing to admire her sitting on her horse. Feeling Death touch him, he and nearly laughed at Celesta's surprise when he did not turn to follow her. Instead, he pulled against his chains and walked toward the Destroyer of Nations, who was giving orders to her lieutenants on how to administer the fallen town.

"Crassus, I want this town's entire granary reserved for the fourth regiment. You will administer here until we reach the outskirts of Amphipolis. Then I want you to have a council installed that understands us."

"Yes, lady." Crassus was a craggy faced man who seemed to have seen one too many blades across his thin cheeks, so scarred was he. The man had been a warrior since he'd grown his first whiskers. Ares shoved aside the memory of Crassus' first kill, which had brought the man into his fold. The God of War was more intent on studying his newest fascination: Xena of Amphipolis, Destroyer of Nations.

Suddenly while he was looking at Crassus, he felt her attention switch to him. Slowly Ares turned and smiled.

"What do you want?" she demanded. "I don't review the prisoners until morning," she explained, tapping his manacles with the tip of her sword. "You can eat swill with the others." She met his eyes, and Ares could tell she was shaken a bit by his appearance. The corners of her eyes narrowed and a faint crease formed at the top of her nose. "No favors, even for a pretty boy like you," she murmured finally, running the broadside of her sword blade against his cheek.

Her face took on a dark cast suddenly and she scowled. The slip of her hand made a neat slice in the curve of his cheek. Nothing fatal, or even really painful, but Ares knew a vicious thought had just crossed Xena's potent mind. He smiled again, unnerving her further.

She moved her horse backward and nodded toward Crassus. "Teach our prisoner some manners." She then slid her sword with a rasp into the scabbard on her hip. In the same moment she turned her bay stallion's head around, trotting off to review the returning troops.

Crassus grabbed Ares' arm and pulled him back into line with the other prisoners. Ares suffered the whip with pride, relishing the pain in his back for his five lashes "for insolence." He looked forward more and more to the inevitable result of his constant attempts to gain Xena's attention... a meeting with the warrior woman herself.

He marched along between the stoop-shouldered, beaten villagers. His head lifted and he threw his shoulders back. Tartarus be praised I am going to love this. He threw the whip-bearer a smile.

The soldier did not see the smile. He was looking over his shoulder at Xena's retreating back, shaking his head. Ares could fairly hear his thoughts screaming: What in Hades just happened?

Then Ares had his first sight of Borias. The Hun warrior rode up to Xena, reporting on the clean up happening on the other side of the village. The God fought down a choking flare of rage as she nodded curtly, accepting his report, then leaned across the space between their horses and gripped his head, fingers threading through the man's tightly knotted hair, claiming a passion-filled kiss. Borias was the one breathing hard when they parted.

Ares knew then that Xena was truly the warrior he wanted as his champion, for all time. He took a deep breath and murmured, "You will possess the earth as easily as you possess men's hearts." He watched as she straightened in the saddle, turned her horse again and rode away. Borias became hot-faced, smiled and turned to ride back the way he came.

Ares clung to the bars of the cage as Crassus locked him and the other prisoners from the battle inside. The rest of the villagers huddled away from the bars, while Ares grasped them, pressing his face between to get an undiluted vision of the mounted Xena, as she reviewed her troops.

True to her word, at daybreak, after she had been out to her practice, Xena appeared at the cage, with Crassus. She had each man pulled out one at a time and interviewed them about their village and, if they had the desire, allowed to beg the "Warrior Princess" for their lives. Ares mused on the title and wondered where it came from, even as he knew how perfectly it fit her, body and soul.

Many prisoners did beg, and those weak-willed fools she gutted with her own sword. Many refused to discuss their tactical arrangements with other nearby villages. Those men she had Crassus gullet because, though they had honor, they couldn't be swayed to serve.
Then one man refused to speak. Ares knew - and Xena knew if Ares could judge by her tolerant look - he was the leader of the villagers who had stood against her army. Lightning fast, Xena smashed her fingers to his throat and the man began to choke and gag. "I have cut off the flow of blood to your brain. Tell me what I want to know or you'll die a very painful death."

He blubbered but didn't speak for the longest time. Just as the trickle of blood began to seep from his nose, the man's will broke, and he poured out all he knew. Ares smiled, a very small, very pleased smile, when she then killed him anyway.

Crassus asked, "Why, Xena? He could have told us much about the area."

"I'll find it out other ways, Crassus. He irritated me."

Crassus nodded, understanding that was all the explanation there needed to be. Ares heard Crassus offer up a quick prayer that "war continue as my brother." It was a common enough prayer for someone hoping to avert a person's anger. That Crassus felt this way around Xena, when, by his position, he was obviously more than a first-line soldier to her, and he knew it, spoke volumes. Xena wasn't above killing anything or anyone. Even a friend or comrade.

Ares could see Xena wasn't angry, though her entire being fairly pulsed with vicious thoughts and consciously designed imaginings of terrorizing villagers. Ares felt a kinship with her unlike anything he had ever experienced with another mortal.

"I must have her allegiance," Ares murmured, committing himself to his next course of action, which should very rapidly bring him into contact with the Warrior Princess.

Finally he was gestured out of the cage. He emerged in the same way he had entered, head high and shoulders back, meeting Xena's gaze with all the concern of a careless man.

"You are the prisoner from last night," she murmured. "Well? What have you to say? Will you beg me for your life? Or swear allegiance to this army and me in the same breath?"

Ares dropped to his knees and bowed his head. "On everything I hold sacred. The sword of Ares," he intoned. "Olympus, the abode of Zeus himself, and..." Ares looked up to meet Xena's eyes over the hilt of his sword. His mind swam in her blue eyes. He continued without thinking, "And the Styx herself." He paused, realizing the sacredness of what he was about to do, having only intended to impress her with his loyalty. How can she have such an effect on a god? He questioned, but finished smoothly, "I swear allegiance to you and this army."

Xena nodded in acceptance and Ares rose to his feet. "Unusual oath, warrior. What is your name?"

Ares looked up into her face and said, contemplatively, "I am called Mendices."

Xena eyed him closely and then passed him her sheathed sword, unbuckling the belt that held it strapped to her hip. "Carry this and follow me."

Ares took the sheath, and nodded. Xena turned her horse and at a pace with the horse, Ares followed her to her campaign tent.

He stepped around reclining men seated around the evening campfires, swallowing mead instead of watching their leader, though Ares could do nothing else. A few lifted a hand in greeting to the woman warrior but no one met her eyes. Those blue orbs missed nothing. Once, she had her bay stallion kick a man in the back for pushing all his coins into the middle of a betting pot.
The errant soldier looked up and immediately reclaimed the bulk of his bet. She guided her stallion to kick a wineskin with her boot from another man's hand. Good, thought Ares, she doesn't let her men commit folly even outside a battle. Control. Always control. He'd striven for years to explain that to his current favored warlord. And though he'd been successful, there had always been small incidents. Xena wouldn't have to be taught that. She already knew a man fought best when his whole life was disciplined, not just his fighting.

Finally Xena stopped in front of a large tent. Ares stepped back as she dismounted and held out the sheath. She seemed to assess him and find pleasure with his actions, because then she smiled, and Ares knew he would kill anything for her. Was this what her men felt? If a god, could feel her dominance, what poor mortal could hope to have enough backbone to do anything but exactly what she demanded?

Ares followed her into the tent. She did not hold the flap for him, and went directly to Borias' side at a table with a map laid out. "Any changes you want to make in the plans?" she asked the Hun.

"Nothing. Everything is ours between here and the Aegean. You will be master of all Greece before Solstice."

Borias and Ares were treated to the most heart-chilling, but pride-filled smile either had ever seen. Xena was obviously pleased to hear such a statement, and they both took a measure of self-congratulatory pride in her obvious conqueror's heart.

Borias however had the liberty to lean and kiss her, whispering against her lips. "I want the Centaur land," he murmured.

"You shall have anything you want, Borias," she pledged, putting her hand on his chest.

Ares scowled, but dared say nothing. At least not until he could get Xena away from the Hun.