#

Spending a day working, that was what he needed.

Stay away from her for a while, clear his mind, get a grip.

It would do him good. Besides, it was high time to check what the hell had gone wrong in Therma; his northern campaign was about to hit its turning point and he'd just left several days to chance at the worst possible moment.

He materialized himself near the commander's tent on the campsite of one of the regiments that were about to enter the city. The day was on the verge on breaking, but there wasn't a sunrise to watch; the grey coat of clouds kept the sun hidden. The air was humid, cool against the skin. And it was quiet. Silence before the storm.

Of course, he wouldn't need to oversee every single step had it been Xena commanding his armies; no, in that case, he would just sit back and enjoy the show, the only reason for his frequent visits to her tent being just the sheer pleasure of feeding off that skin-crawling allure emanating from her; a mix of ruthless self-confidence of a brilliant commander and that unique quality of hers that he could never quite pinpoint, which made her so fucking one of a kind.

He looked around the still sleepy campsite, his eyes stopping at the red walls of the commander's tent. Gods, he would give everything to see her walk out of it now; in her old battle ensemble, the sharp, stern, semi-contemptuous look on her face; she'd walk up to him ever before he'd make himself visible; she'd close the distance between them, her expression changing only just slightly, just her eyes; they'd narrow in excitement she thought she was hiding so well; and she'd stop right in front of his face, her chin high, challenging him – a god – with a glare, like no one ever dared before.

And now, instead, he was about to see the painfully unremarkable mortal that he didn't even remember the name of. He couldn't believe he'd used to be so invested in this campaign back when it started several months ago.

"Lord Ares," shakily saluted a very pale, dark haired man standing steps before him. There he was, whatever his name was, the fear in his voice so very annoying.

He'd used to feed off on it – on how mortals trembled before him – and even his favorite generals did – everyone did – everyone, apart from her – and she'd ruined it for him. Since her, the only thing he felt when they crawled at his feed was contempt.

At this very moment, it was contempt reinforced with pretty bad mood. And he already knew it was only going to get worse once he saw the man's pale hand tremble.

"What's your name?"

"Nikandros, sir…"

"So, tell me Nikandros, why is it that I can't leave you for several days without coming back to see regress instead of progress?" he asked calmly, circling the startled man. Disgusting, to see a grown man quiver like a virgin on a wedding night; and he wasn't even an exception. Xena was the exception; when he circled her like a predator back in the old day, her breath would quicken, too, just for a whole different reason; she'd never been as turned on as when he was outraged.

Funny, he'd used to think that a big part of her charm had been her stubborn resistance to share his bed back in the day. She'd always been so weirdly adamant about it; it would drive him to the limits of his self-control at times.

Little had he known that possessing her body would only make matters worse. It was all he could think about recently, even now; her silky-smooth flesh in his arms, her chest in his face; the warm, spicy scent which was all he wanted to smell, which was never enough; the way her eyes blurred when he buried himself inside her; all too much and never enough. He'd bedded millions, but gods, she was the only one.

One in a billion.

And she was about to bring his life to an end.

And he was nothing but aiding her.

"Lord Ares," the annoyingly sheepish voice snapped him out of his thoughts. "In that case, I take it you would deem it wise to move our forces towards the—"

But he never heard the end of that sentence; the fireball shot off his palm and shut up the source of the annoying voice before he knew it. For the next while, he just stood there, watching the burning corpse until the stench reached his nostrils. Useless, fucking useless, all of them.

It was her.

It was her who'd done this to him; who'd shown him how it could be, how it should be done, how brilliant one could be carrying his banner, how no one else would ever be able to make his job feel so fucking good, so intoxicatingly fulfilling as it had been for all those years she had been his ally. No one came even close. He often wondered, what if; what if she hadn't met his damn brother. They would rule the world by now, she as his queen, his wife; the only woman that gave him the urge to make those vows.

She'd been so beautifully merciless back then; wild, lethal; untamed. It had been what made him lose his mind from the first time he laid his eyes on her. That woman – she wouldn't hug him, wouldn't wipe his forehead when he was sweaty from a nightmare. But back then he wouldn't have minded.

Back then.

A blow of cold, humid breeze brought him back to the present. The sky was darkening, it was about to rain. Glancing around, he saw the soldiers, scattered around the campsite, lurking towards him and the burned corpse of their commander at his feet.

He let out a sigh of regret.

Now he needed to bother himself with finding a replacement for whatever his name was; while he couldn't be bothered to do neither that nor anything else. There was only one thing he felt like doing.

With a snap of his fingers, he transported himself to the place he couldn't stay away from for any longer.

#

Her room was empty.

Apart from Eve napping in the crib.

He reached out, fingers brushing the familiar softness of the little head, and retracted his hand, embarrassed, the memory of the other day flashing so vividly; the way the little body warmed his chest, her mother's eyes when she watched them, his utter embarrassment when he encased the girl in his arms when Xena reached to take her from him; the tenderness in her eyes that she rapidly blinked away. She looked away, too, but he reached around her shoulders and pulled her close until her head was in the crook of his neck; and she didn't oppose; she eased into his embrace, clinging tighter to his side, resting her hand on his stomach, and they didn't speak another word for what seemed like ages. He only opened his mouth when he felt moisture trickle down the side of his neck where her face was, but then closed it and just gave her a quiet kiss on the forehead, pressing her tighter into his side; she then buried her face in his neck, kissing him softly; and his chest welled up with something so overwhelming that he was out of breath. The very memory of it cut his breath short.

What the fuck was going on with him?

He looked around.

Unusually for this time of day, the room was rather dark. He looked toward the window; some of the grey clouds were turning dark blue; the storm was coming. Walking up to the window, he drew in a deep inhale of the humid air, the charge in it sending a pleasant tingle up his arms. As much as he hated his father, this was the one thing he loved – his fury and what a spectacle it made of the sky.

He longed to see her. What was she doing? It was too early for a bath. She was with Gabrielle, surely.

Good. It was high time to do some damage control on Olympus anyway; he'd been putting it off for days.

#

He appeared on Olympus as he always did, in the Main Hall.

Only that this time, it wasn't empty. It was actually very far from empty – it seemed that he jumped straight into a meeting of the Twelve.

A meeting he obviously hadn't been invited to.

Looking around, he couldn't help noticing that his mother's throne was empty. Good, he didn't feel like seeing her face; not now, not ever again.

All eyes were still on him when his father rose from his throne, not even looking at him. "Meeting adjourned," Zeus' deep baritone filled the air, echoing against the white and silver marble of the hall.

"Ares should speak too, now that he's here," the God of the Underworld rose from his throne amidst the general chatter. Ares looked towards him, hit by a pang of guilt when the memory of helping Xena steal the Helmet of Invisibility flashed through his mind.

All the commotion stopped, everyone turning their eyes to the King of the Gods. Zeus raised his brows, sending a contemptuous glare towards Ares. "I have no idea whom you're referring to."

The whispers filled the air again. Ares stood there, trying to look unmoved, feigning indifference as best as his boiling blood allowed him to.

"She's not dead," Hades said, approaching.

"What?"

"She hasn't crossed the Styx. Wherever she is, she's alive," Hades went on, and it was hard to tell if there was an implication between the lines, or if it was just Ares' own paranoid mind seeing conspiracy everywhere. "But she's gone without a trace. The God of Eli must be sheltering her to ensure the birth of the child, is our best bet," he paused, clicking his tongue and putting on a little smile. "Though, Athena won't stop claiming it's you."

"Always my biggest fan," Ares snorted.

"Wouldn't blame you, though."

"What?"

"Xena. She's one of a kind, for a mortal," Hades shot him a mysterious look.

For a mortal; she was one of a kind in every realm, on every plane.

"Alright then, have a great brother and sister quality time, young man," his uncle patted him on the shoulder and dematerialized, revealing Athena's gold-plated silhouette in the distance.

He stared at the empty spot where Hades stood just a second ago, and some strange, unpleasant feeling swept over him; like there was something he wanted to say, the words piling up in his throat, and it was too late.

"Well, well, look who decided to visit," Athena's condescending voice stung his ears in the most unpleasant way.

He looked up with a grimace. There she was, the righteous bitch, the apple of daddy's eye. Sometimes he felt he hated her more than he hated Hercules. Now was one of those times.

"Didn't your mother teach you it's impolite to show up uninvited?" Athena raised a brow, sneering. "But well, let us not speak ill of the deceased."

It took a moment for the meaning of his sister's words to settle in. His mother's throne was empty, yes – as it usually was when she was at odds with her husband; it was hardly the first time.

"Oh, dear brother; judging by the dumb expression on your face I take it you haven't yet heard the news. Your mother has been punished for treason – and with the very weapon she wanted Hercules to use against us – our father deemed it fitting."

He felt the beads of sweat form along his hairline. "Ribs of Cronos..." his voice died in his throat.

"It's just a matter of time till you share her fate. You can't keep your little mortal lover hidden forever – and once she comes out, so will the truth about your betrayal," she kept talking, and he tried to listen, but he was losing focus, his heart racing, her previous words echoing in his head.

"You're delusional."

"You're weak, Ares. So unlike you. You're letting your sentiments rule you."

"Thanks for concern, sis."

"I don't understand, you were supposed to be immune to this, how is this happening?" Athena frowned, dropping the pompous tone.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You will bring about the doom on all of us, Ares – but for yourself as well. Is it worth it? Those few moments in her arms in exchange for eternity?"

His jaw tensed, but he forced himself to unball his fists. He wasn't going to let her provoke him. No matter how right she was.

"It's not worth it and you know it."

He blinked, trying to hide how his breath quickened. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction.

"Maybe it would be if she loved you back. But she doesn't – she might be grateful for your help but don't fool yourself, brother – she could never love someone like you."

His mind screamed, a knot tightening in his chest, a fireball about to form in his palm.

"Because a just and righteous person like her could never respect a deceitful, two-faced worm like you."

He relaxed his hand, the static gone from his forearms. If he stayed there any longer, it would get ugly, he would make a mess he didn't have the strength for. He needed air, he needed to breathe.

"Mortals are reborn, Ares. You will find her next incarnation."

"Would love to stay and chat, sis, but duties are calling."

"I hope she's worth it; sentencing yourself and your family to death."

"She's worth more than that," the words left his mouth before he could stop himself, and with that he was gone.

#

When he came back to the castle, he collapsed on his throne, squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed, pushing the roar back into his lungs, the need to see her tugging at his gut, the need to be alone making his ears ring.

He snapped a portal open – she was passed out in the armchair, with Eve in her arms.

Imagining the world without the gods was hard. But imagining the world without her; it was beyond any imagination he could muster.

Then, surprising himself, he opened up another portal; it showed Aphrodite, just sitting down on her throne in one of her temples in Athens.

He teleported himself without a second thought.

#

The temples of the Goddess of Love were more or less all the same, but this – he appeared in the throne room of what had to be the most intensively rose-smelling place on earth; there were fresh roses everywhere, covering even the ceiling, the pink petals scattered all over the place; even incense was rose-scented.

Typical Dite; when she loved something, she would always take it to the furthest limits possible.

Then, his eyes fell on what the portal failed to reveal – the two exotic looking, very naked males lounging on the huge, pink sheepskin rug at the feet of the throne occupied by his now very wide-eyed sister.

"Ar?"

"It's cool, I'll come back later," he raised a hand, but she jumped to his side the very next second.

"No freaking way," she snapped her fingers, making her two stunned lovers disappear in thin air. "You never visit me in my temples, Ar – what's wrong?"

It was true. He'd usually just call her to come to wherever he was. He didn't even know why he came here now.

"What is it, babe? You look like you've seen a ghost," his sister ran a hand up his arm, flashing him the most motherly of her motherly looks – as motherly as it could get coming from a woman dressed in what revealed way more than it covered – and, as much as it would always annoy him when she did that, right now he didn't mind; it actually even felt good.

"I feel like a ghost myself."

"You're worried about her…"

"No, Dite, I'm not worried about her, I'm worried about me and you – wanna know the truth? Xena is not just some mortal, she's not even just a brilliant swordsman – that woman is someone who would be able to kill off every single one of us even if we ganged up on her and took her by surprise on a bad day after a sleepless night – that is who you're dealing with here."

"So, what are you saying… you regret helping her?"

He turned away from her, growled and walked over to her now empty throne. There was no way he would sit on something looking like that. With a snap of his fingers, another throne appeared to the left; a black one – this one he could sit on.

"You regret helping her, don't you?"

He produced a goblet of wine and brought it up to his mouth. "It doesn't matter now – there's no way out of it, Dite, not anymore. We're fucked."

Aphrodite produced a goblet in her own hand and walked over to him, stopping inches in front of him. "There is a way out."

"Not the one I can take."

"Oh my goodness, you really are in love with her…"

"You're not helping," he gulped down his wine and refilled the vessel.

"I know it's not what you want to hear, Ar, but just so you know, if we give the child over now, I could arrange it with father that he won't punish you."

Finishing the second refill, he tossed the goblet against the stone floor; it didn't shatter, just filled the air with the high-pitched sound that made his sister scream and cover her ears with her palms.

"Could you please freaking not? You know it startles me when you do it!" she grimaced, dematerializing herself and reappearing several feet away from him.

"Don't you ever fucking mention Zeus to me again."

"Why, what happened? Okay, fine, sorry…" she raised her palms in a gesture of truce.

He knew Aphrodite was right. She could pull this off; this and much more; Zeus did have a soft spot for her, it wasn't a secret. It wouldn't be surprising if he let Ares off the hook even for something as big as this – as soon as his beloved little daughter flashed him that sweet smile of hers.

It wasn't like it would be the first time she saved his ass this way.

And so, what – all of that, so he could go on living his life without the one person that made it worth living? And the look he would see on her face – he couldn't even imagine it – he'd rather she killed him before he got to see her eyes; she probably would, anyway.

"She would never forgive me, Dite."

"I know. But honey… you don't have a future with her anyway… you know that."

He balled his fists, closing his eyes. "It's different now, Dite. She… she's starting to trust me, it's… it's never been like that between us."

He watched his sister as she took several slow steps towards him, letting out a deep sigh; and that was when he knew he wasn't going to like what she was about to say.

He was right.

"I know this is not what you want to hear, babe, but – she doesn't love you, Ar… you know that… you've always known that."

He produced another goblet, downing it all at once; but the lump in his throat wouldn't go away.

"It might look like she does, I know – she's drawn to you, and you're intimate – but she'll never let herself love you, hon – not with Gabrielle by her side – you're just everything she's trying to run away from..."

Why was she – a cold shiver run up his back – was she doing it on purpose? Trying to piss him off so he agrees to get Eve to Zeus? Or was it his paranoia? He hoped it was the latter, because if he had to start to read between the lines even with Dite – the one person in the world that he trusted—

"It's not love, honey… if the push comes to shove, she will always choose Gabrielle. I'm sorry…"

"Why are saying all this, Dite?"

"I just don't want to see you suffer, babe…"

"You're afraid of daddy, I get it."

"What?"

"Go back to Olympus, Dite. Forget what you've seen for the last three weeks, and no one will know you've laid your foot in the Halls of War, you have my word."

"But Ar... wait!"

Lump growing in his throat, he vanished without another word.

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