Disclaimer: The characters you recognize from 'Xena: Warrior Princess' and/or 'Hercules: the Legendary Journeys' don't belong to me, they belong to whoever owns/wrote/created them. No copyright infringement intended, okay? I'm just borrowing them! All the other weird characters that you have never seen before in your life belong to me, as does the story!

A/N: This is a rewrite of the prequel for my original 'Born For War' trilogy. It's a darker version (hence the title - I'm witty like that), and it's hopefully more realistic and better written.

Of note: Xena is approximately 16 in this fic. This is Ancient Greece, and she is certainly an adult by those standards. If you're still freaked out by a young!Xena involved with the god of war on any level, this is your chance to leave.

Also, please note that the character Luke in the original BFW trilogy has been renamed Lucas to give him a slightly more "Greek" name.

Dedications: This for Barb (For help writing the original story, more or less), Kat (For being a great editor). Ephy (For ideas and help, despite a chronic case of slow reading), Eris (For inspiration and support on this version), Jackie, Noie, Liz, SR, Tareena, Sara, Nicola, Tali (For being great friends and encouraging me to no end), Skkye (For inspiring me), Lady Kate (for sticking with me). And for everyone at the shippers club for their support, and for liking my stories, even when I was a kid who couldn't write at all.

Summary: Once upon a time, even the Warrior Princess was a little girl. This is the story of how she grew into the Destroyer of Nations. A tail of gods, wars, revenge, and especially love: "She was Xena, a mighty princess forged in the heat of battle."

Rated: R

Soundtrack: 'Forsaken' by 'David Draiman' on the 'Queen Of The Damned Soundtrack'

Date Started: September 25, 2002/Date Finished: July 1, 2013 (nothing like 11 years in the making - oy)

Born For War, Only Darker

~(Prologue)~

A little girl with dark raven hair stood at the stairs, half hidden by the shadows. Leaning back against the wall, she tried her best to hold in the tears that threatened to fall.

Downstairs, a fiery redheaded young woman stood with her back to the child, blocking the doorway from the other person, her voice was harsh from screaming. "Stop it, Atrius, get control of yourself!"

A deep male voice thundered from the kitchen, "You're going to stop me from seeing my own children? You ungrateful wrench!"

The young woman's back sunk as she cried, but still she held firmly to the doorframe, "You're drunk, Atrius."

"And you're a whore who doesn't deserve my time," the voice boomed back.

The woman shook her head and pleaded, her pride having long ago been abandoned, "Baby, please, listen to yourself. Just stay in the kitchen until the mead wears off!"

Atrius was bathed in light as he came towards the woman - he seemed to have collected himself somewhat, "You have no rights here, Cyrene."

"This is my house too," the woman challenged.

Angered, the large, dark haired, young man lunged at Cyrene, knocking her back with a crunch as she made a last ditch effort to hold on to the doorframe. "And it's also mine, which you refuse to let me into."

Cyrene crumpled to the floor in tears, her dress fanning out around her, "I won't let you, Atrius; you can't hurt her!"

As Atrius started toward the stairs Cyrene picked herself up and threw herself at him, crying out, "No, stop it, no!"

The little girl, eyes wide in fear, scrambled up while her parents' attention was diverted and hurried back toward her room, knowing that she'd be in trouble if she was caught out of bed so late at night.

She stopped on her way to check on her brothers, a fierce need to protect them encompassing her; both were sleeping soundly. The girl tiptoed to the crib where her baby brother lay, a tiny fist pushed under his cheek, and hummed softly to him, telling them both that it would be all right.