Disclaimer: This all belongs to Renaissance Pictures and Universal. I wish I could say it was all mine. Truly I do. But I'm just borrowing this wonderful world with all due respect.
Timeline: Season 6
Many thanks to Teddy E and TaliaToEnnien for the betas!
"Silent Fire"
by
LadyRowan Darkstar
She never expected it to be so soft.
She always thought if the Greek fire dancing between them ignited, it would be just that...Greek fire. Explosions. Passion. Heat. Lust in a wild blaze.
She knew it could be that they way with Ares. But she hadn't expected the moment...the moment...to be soft.
Xena and Gabrielle were back in Greece. Rome still ghosted their steps. Forgiven in the moment and prickly in the aftermath, so much the song of their lives.
Gabrielle had been snapping at Xena for days. Digging under the skin with nails gentle and persistent, words meant to prod and sting, sinking through the armor like slow toxins...until Xena bled. And turned away to lick her wounds.
Xena had made an excuse out of a need to scout ahead and disappeared into the wind and glaring sun, grateful for the space to breathe, for the hot wind to dry the moisture in her eyes until they ached.
She wasn't far from their potential campground when she found a shallow waterfall, speeding in ripples and swirls over worn rocks, spilling into a sparkling stream. Xena knew Gabrielle would appreciate the elegant simplicity. The familiar hollowness and ache spread through her torso with the sound of the water as she turned to an empty field and chattering birds.
Her mind's eye toyed with an image of sun-dappled hair in the golden light and the music of a lyrical laugh. Once in a new moon she wanted Gabrielle's hair long again, wanted to hurl her sais into the ocean and hand her a freshly polished staff. She wanted a smile and a look of adoration untainted. Xena closed her eyes and turned from the empty field, walking on, letting the rhythm of her steps drown out sensation.
She felt him coming, of course, but she didn't bother to raise her gaze. She let him fall into step beside her. Maybe that was how it happened all along. Year after year, she let him fall into step beside her.
"I see you're headed toward Athens," was all his greeting.
She narrowed her eyes and focused on the far horizon. "In a manner of speaking. What's it to you?"
"Me? What makes you think I'm here for purely selfish purposes. Xena, I'm --"
"Spare me." Her tone was colder than she'd meant. Things weren't quite that sharp between them these days. But she didn't take it back; things weren't that soft, either.
He never missed a beat. "Ah, Xena. Surely you know what I'm getting at here. You've been travelling this road for a while, you and Gabrielle must be catching wind of the stories about Niathon."
Xena swiped a hand over her face, feeling the heat of the day. She sniffed and shoved back her bangs. "Small time warlord gaining momentum. We're heading in to check it out at the next village on his route."
"He's gained more than a little momentum, Xena, he's got a full out army in his wake."
"And? Shouldn't you be somewhere cheering him on?"
His eyebrows rose and he quickened his step to match her own. "You'd think, wouldn't you? But here's the thing. He's never been a fan of mine."
That caught her attention. "Excuse me?"
Ares shook his head, and she gazed at him for a long breath, eyes tracing the faint lines where she swore genuine wrinkles had been. When he'd been human. When he had been blood and warmth, vulnerable flesh snoring softly on the back of her neck.
"Yeah. Seems Niathon spent some time up North, got hit on a bit by our dear friend Kel. Decided he'd make it his goal to come back and take over Greece without a shred of help from the God of War. His piece of eternity, if you will."
"He's gotten this far across Greece without your blessing?" She clicked her tongue. "Losin' your touch, Ares."
"He's gotten this far because I let him, Xena. Because his movements served my purposes. iI/i am the God of War. No warriors prevail without my power behind them."
The flexing of god muscles bored her and she felt hot again and turned and took a few paces toward the stream. Pulling her water skin from her shoulder, she crouched by the top of the waterfall. She held the skin to the cool rush of liquid, letting the water drench her arm and splash onto her face and chest. She closed her eyes and listened to the rush of sound, lifted a handful of clear liquid to her lips and let the water soothe inside and out.
She'd thought Ares was still talking, still babbling his plans, something about joining forces, a new warrior he was taking under his wing, wanting her help to guide things, to stop Niathon two villages ahead of his quest to take Athens. She sat back onto her heels to fasten the cap of the water skin, and found Ares had dropped to a crouch not far to her side. He watched her in silence. She wondered how long ago his diatribe had ceased.
"What?" she asked.
"Xena...have you listened to a word I said?"
"I'll help you with Niathon," she said simply, hoping she had caught the essential thread. "We were planning that, anyway."
He nodded, opened his mouth as if to speak, but just worked his jaw in silence.
When she didn't speak, only shifted her legs to sit on the slightly damp grass and let the water skin rest on the ground beside her, he finally said, "Okay. Uh...good."
She gave the slightest nod, watched the distant trees moving like colored scarves on a clothesline and remembered images of Potedeia and feeling like a dark plague leaving her indelible mark on something pure and sweet.
"Well," Ares said. "We can...work out the details later."
"Yeah."
"You know I look forward to watching you do...what you do best," he offered, and when she turned her eyes to his, a tentative smile played at the corners of his mouth. A kind of tender question colored his eyes, pulled at her guts and held her in his gaze.
Her throat tightened and she suddenly lost all drive to move.
She couldn't speak, nodded mutely.
A moment of quiet. She felt as much as saw Ares moving beside her, settling in to sit on the gentle rise at her side.
The wind danced around. When his voice rose, his fumbling words were as much a part of the hillside as the water and grass. "Can I...what can I do?"
Xena shook her head. "It's fine," was all she gave.
And his hand was just there, resting open palmed on the back of her shoulder blade, as though they did this all the time.
Something in her stomach warmed and gentled. His leathers crackled and shifted and she caught the faintest scent of his skin. She let the least bit of her weight transfer onto his hand, and as she felt the depth of his presence beside her, felt the ripples of electricity beneath her skin...she found she could breathe. She didn't know it had been so long. Nothing she had done, thought, would ever do, would make him look at her like something that needed...repair. No matter how far she strayed from the Warrior Princess he revered, he somehow continued to walk beside her, teasing her, taunting her, making her feel like she was the one and only, the best he ever had.
His fingers mingled with her hair and she surrendered to a muted sigh.
She had expected Greek fire. Ecstasy of the flesh.
No quiet moments on picturesque hillsides.
A gentle kind of ecstasy shimmered beneath her skin; for none of the reasons she had expected.
Xena let her head fall ever so slightly to the side, brushing against his shoulder, and the evening breeze pushed the flaps of her skirt across his thigh.
Silent fire.
*****
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