Disclaimer: Nope, not mine.
Xena/Ares
Set after Xena and Gabrielle 'Fake' their death in season five – Ares is not really coping, just a short drabble.
"You're with her now. I handled you all wrong. I know that. She knew what you needed -unconditional and unselfish love... And I couldn't give that to you. But I appreciated you in ways she never could: Your rage... Your violence... Your beauty. When you sacrificed yourself for others, you were hers... But when you kicked ass, you were mine. I love you, Xena." (Ares to Xena's dead body)
Goodbyes are never easy, most of all when they're forever.
How quickly life can leave, one falls merely as another stands and yet the fallen shall never rise again – Xena, will never rise again. It seemed like filth to utter those words, like a delusion for him to comprehend her lifeless body – no soul, no movement, no Xena. He in no way cried for the Warrior, yet he'd been not surprised when her cold skin against his fingers made his heart tighten…Was it sadness?
The God of war did not grieve – however a man in love did.
She had died with her companion, something akin to relief filled Ares at that mere thought, for in death Xena was not alone – she did not pass without the company of Gabrielle. Thankful for that he had taken them both to their frozen graves, it was safe – quiet, a peaceful resting place for a Warrior who herself in life, never rested. Held within a coffin made from ice they would lay - persevered, because Ares had not wanted his Warrior to rot in the ground - surrounded by mere dirt.
He walked slowly after that, down a path that mortals would use – the gravel beneath his boots crunched loudly, compacting under his weight. He had one last thing to do, felt he owed it to Xena – maybe even to himself. The village was small, however brimmed with people all busy with their daily lives – Ares paused, his strong hand fisted as he held it towards a wooden door, one knock was all he did, loudly, yet restrained.
It opened seconds later and in its wake stood a middle aged woman, brown hair tied loosely back. Xena's mother – she went to speak however Ares stepped closer, his voice came out low – spoken as though the words were venom in his mouth.
"It's Xena…" The woman shook her head, she knew, no more words were needed. "I'm sorry,"
The apology went acknowledge with a nod, her hand rose to cover her mouth and a sob escaped a moment later, Ares merely watched, he was sorry, for her loss and his. No more words were said, how exactly Ares had found himself walking away and when the door had been shut went unquestioned, he merely walked a few feet before his eyes started to burn, before his hands ran desperately through his hair and his knees felt weak.
Dead, gone, Xena no longer breathed.
Crimson colour touched his cheeks as his voice growled in his throat, he hated her for dying – his blood felt heated, he'd not care if it spilled from his body, what is life without love? Oh, how Aphrodite would laugh upon him in this moment, Ares, the God of war in love. It was pathetic, he hated that it was.
The God of war did not grieve, however, he wasn't a God anymore – merely a man in love. To die for her he'd bare a thousand swords, wounds that would kill, yet it was love that slaughtered the God of war, a warlord turned warrior, who without knowing had stopped his beating heart. A man in love dies slow – but never was there a death so sweeter.
With a final attempt to quell his emotions, Ares fell to his knees, he yelled – and Zeus himself heard, his son had never feared a life lived for eternity, however this man screaming could think of no harder punishment.