#

He awoke with a thud, blinking, trying to understand what the abrupt commotion in his arms was.

When his vision regained focus, he realized he was in an armchair, and before him, there was Xena, cursing and ripping the baby from his arms, her eyes wild. And she stood there, panting, in front of him, the kid in her arms starting to cry, apparently startled as much as he was; and he couldn't be more confused.

The rage in her eyes was gone, and she was now staring at him with confusion that matched his own.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, whether to him or to the baby, he wasn't sure.

But he left the room before she had time to say another word.

Only when he reappeared in his throne room did the breath leave his lungs. For fuck's sake… what the hell was that?

This was what he got for acting on impulse.

Great going there – great first step towards a plan, really – and he wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or roar when he realized that even Xena surely thought he had a plan, that his bringing her here was a part of it. Well, he'd thought he'd maybe, eventually, have a plan too, by now. But instead, he'd just woken up with the damn kid in his arms, and with Xena to see, as if it wasn't embarrassing enough on its own.

He could've done it, godsdammit, it would've been so easy. The moment he'd gotten the kid out of the crib, it was just a breath away; apply a little pressure around the little neck, cut the breath off, no sound, Xena wouldn't even stir in her sleep. He would have saved himself, his family, the whole damn Greek pantheon would owe him their lives; even his damn father; maybe he'd finally get a look of approval from him for once. He could've gained all that, so easily. And lose her forever.

And what did he choose instead? Betraying his own kin, the constant anxiety of waiting for his life to end, and for what? She still wanted nothing to do with him. If anything, she didn't eye him with the usual contempt, that was the only change. That was what he was getting out of this, that was what he was risking his life for – for her eyes to hold just confusion instead of hatred. No wonder his own father didn't respect him.

But maybe it was time to have another talk with the old man.

Maybe it was time to check if the grass was greener on the other side.

#

The main hall of Olympus was empty when Ares materialized himself in the middle of it.

Good, he wasn't in the mood for chit-chats, there was only one person he was interested in having a conversation with right now.

Luckily, his father was alone in his suite.

No wonder – Hera had to be out there on Earth, helping his mongrel of a brother – after she'd stabbed him, Ares – her favorite son, the son she claimed to love – in the back, without a second thought, as soon as damn Hercules turned up. Having to endure hundreds of years of bitter contempt from Zeus, while watching him favor Hercules – that was one thing – but having his only ally, his own mother, turn her back on him like this, and for the sake of the fucking mongrel on top of that – it was a blow that one didn't forget.

But Zeus was here, Zeus he could talk with; his ever-condescending father. He couldn't wait to see the look on the old man's face when he would realize that his fate was now resting in the hands of the son he'd always treated like a piece of shit.

"Ares… Here to fail another task I'll assign you?" the Kind of the Gods didn't even turn to look at him, pouring himself a goblet of nectar.

"I wouldn't have failed if it hadn't been for my damn mother going behind both our backs."

"Watch your mouth, she's still your mother."

"Not anymore."

Zeus turned back, raising an intrigued brow at him. "It really did get to you, huh?"

"I don't forget betrayal."

"I do understand, I suppose. You've always been so desperate for my approval that you had to cling to whatever attention your mother gave you. She did have a soft spot for you, that she did – but, as it turns out, Hercules outpowered you even here," Zeus smirked, not even looking at him.

His stomach tensed like he'd been punched. Slowly, he reached up to touch his forehead – gods, he was sweating. It was weird, really – it felt like something broke loose inside him, like a safety valve was giving up, and he didn't know what was about to happen, he just knew he would have no control of it whatsoever.

"I'm not your son anymore, either."

In a split second he was in his throne room in the Halls of War, taken aback by the sound that tore up his lungs, the sound he'd never heard before.

After a while, he collapsed on his throne, spent. It helped. Now he was just exhausted. Exhausted physically and mentally, empty of any feelings apart from some blunt sense of dread tugging at his gut, so annoying.

"Ares…" a voice reached him from the distance, from somewhere behind his back. The pleasure from hearing her voice quickly turned into panic – of course, he forgot he wasn't here alone – and she heard him, that's why she came.

Her steps were getting nearer. He didn't move; he neither could not wanted to.

He wiped his face with his palms. But it was too late. She was already standing in front of him, the concern in her eyes doing weird things to him. He stood up. She stepped closer, opening her mouth, but no words came out. She was just inches away, her scent making him lightheaded, her eyes soft, tender as he'd never seen them. When a wave of warmth spread over his chest, he knew he should back out; step away, or at least avert his eyes, break that gaze that was threatening to make him fall apart if he stared any longer.

And then she touched him, and it was too late. His eyes closed of their own accord, the warm wave flooding his stomach as she held his face in her hands; weirdly, it somehow felt like she was holding all of him.

"What's wrong?" she asked softly, and it was the last straw.

But he couldn't care anymore. His eyes closed, his breath lost in his throat, he felt like he was falling.

He opened his eyes with a thud, catching his breath, grabbing her wrists, fuming, meeting her confused gaze. Her fingers, the fingers that touched his face; they were shiny, moist.

"What happened?" she asked, and he smirked at the irony. What happened? Where did he start? With how he just lost both his parents? Or how he'd just almost traded her life for his father's approval?

Gods, when she was looking at him like that, he couldn't grasp how he could've even considered it. He had to be out of his mind.

He pulled her close abruptly, putting his arms around her, and they stood like this for a while; him stroking the back of her head, feeling her warm breath on his neck, her heart thudding between them; or maybe it was his.

Being a god whose lifespan measured up to several thousand years, he had long assumed he'd felt all there was to feel, that there couldn't be anything in the world that he hadn't experienced – and here she was, proving him wrong once again.

And of course, that had to be the exact moment the blonde chose to barge in and remind him what a mistake it was to bring her here.

"Xena, I think she's hungry…" she walked up, passing the bundle to Xena, staring at her expectantly.

"It's fine, Gabrielle, I'll be back shortly," Xena responded to the blonde's wide-eyed look, nestling the baby in her arms. Gabrielle hesitated, but a moment later they were alone again.

Well, not exactly.

And then, as if he wasn't even there, Xena was sitting down on his throne, baring her breast to nurse the baby – on his fucking throne – and he stood there, frozen, unsure if he wanted to laugh or cry. Eventually, the scene mesmerized him to the point where he understood he couldn't leave if he wanted to, so he produced a twin throne opposite the one she was occupying and took a seat. That got her attention, finally.

She looked up at him and, for a split second, before her face turned normal, there it was – that loving tenderness; for just a split second, but enough to make him blink and look away.

"That throne has seen a lot, but this is a first, I gotta give you that," he smirked at her.

She raised her eyebrow in a subtle smile, looking back to the baby in her arms, her face softening instantly. There was something about it that drove him crazy, he didn't understand why. Apart from the obvious, that is – the scene that was now clouding his mind, where she was baring her breast in front of his face, feeding it to him, closing her eyes and moaning while he suckled on it softly – gods, it made him sweat – but there was something else. He'd never seen her like this; he'd known her inside and out, and yet this tenderness, it was a side of her he'd never witnessed before; it was pretty fascinating, in a ruthless warrior like her; the way she cradled the little head, the way her face softened when she stared at the baby, the love in her eyes, in her every gesture. The more he stared, the more he couldn't look away; and it did strange things to him, and he didn't understand any of it, it was too much at once.

"Thank you," she uttered quietly, never taking her eyes off the baby.

It took him a short while to realize she was talking to him. "Oh, it's nothing, it just made me a target of my whole family, but well, I'm at odds with most of them anyway."

"You still have time to change sides…"

The bitterness in her voice made him clench his jaw; the whole damn Dahak ordeal, of course it would keep coming back to bite him on the ass time and time again, no surprise here. But, if he was being completely honest, he wasn't entirely sure he wouldn't switch sides now either. The survival instinct was hard to turn off, even in a god.

"I can't stay here anyway," she said.

"And you'll go where?"

She was silent. They both were. It was the truth and she knew it – there was nowhere on Earth where Zeus and the gang wouldn't find her. Apart from here – Halls of War – his private quarters that no one, not even Zeus, had access too. Even Discord wasn't allowed here anymore, even though the place had been a gift from her.

But it meant – if she agreed to stay – that she'd stay here for good, and that, for some reason, made him hesitate. It's not that he wouldn't love to have her here forever – he'd fantasized about it for years – but it was still his place – his shelter from the world. Sharing it with anyone was quite hard to imagine, no matter how big the place was. And it was far from small.

"I'll go to my mother's."

"And?"

"And I'll take it from there."

Smirking, he raised to his feet, walking around her in a circle. "So – you're gonna risk your life, and the life of your child, just because you're too proud to accept my help…" She was unbelievable. She had to be losing her mind.

"I can't afford your help, Ares."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I know you. You don't offer help if there's nothing for you to gain. And there's nothing for you to gain here. And everything to lose."

"I'd rather lose everything than you."

She held her breath, swallowing hard, not looking at him. "I don't have anything to offer you."

"You're wrong. You are everything I want."

She closed her eyes, her chest rising rapidly. "I can't give you the things you want, Ares. What you want is the past that I'm not coming back to."

"I don't give a fuck about the past," he snapped.

The baby started wailing. Instinctively, he put a hand on the little head. "I'm sorry."

Simultaneously, equally instinctively, she wrapped her arms protectively around the baby and moved away. He retracted his hand hastily. Their eyes met. "Sorry," she said, her eyes welling up; he thought he would drown in them. He wanted to. This was what he wanted, it was all he wanted; how fucking clueless and stubborn she was.

The baby was now full-on crying, the sound annoying the hell out of him; Xena was trying to soothe her, but the wailing only got louder.

Not thinking what he was doing, he reached down to take the baby from her. "Let me." At first she froze, but when their eyes met, she slowly relaxed, letting him take the bundle into his arms, though not letting go until she made sure the baby was safely encased in his embrace.

He didn't know why the hell he did that, but it was too late now.

The blushed little face with big blue eyes was staring at him in confusion, and only a moment later he realized that the crying stopped. Looking up, he met another set of blue eyes, equally confused.

"Now that – was disturbing," he said, handing the baby over to her.

"Tell me about it. Didn't know the God of War had baby-charming skills."

"Makes two of us," he raised his palms. "I've never held a baby in my life."

"Ares… she means your death."

"Yeah, yeah, you keep saying that – so what?"

"What do you mean, so what?"

"She is your child, Xena. I can't kill her without killing you, in case that escaped your attention," he said, looking down and meeting the baby's wide-eyed look piercing him through; those eyes; they made him uneasy just like her mother's. "Which puts me in a – how do I put it – a pretty fucked up predicament, and so, here we are."

"So, that's your plan? To sit here?"

He sighed, walking back to the throne, sitting down with a thud, slapping his palms onto his knees. "You know what? Wanna know the truth? I don't have a damn plan. Yeah, you heard that right – for the first time in my life, I have no fucking idea what I'm doing – there, here's the truth for ya."

"Well, good to know."

"But I'm happy to hear any great ideas you might have."

She raised to her feet, adjusting the baby in her arms, and started pacing back and forth.

"Ares…"

"Yeah?"

"The prophecy, what does it say exactly?"

"That the rule of the Pantheon will end once the child not conceived by a man is born. And she's been born, and yet, here we are."

"The prophecies are not literal, there's meaning between the lines… though, in this case, I can't find any…"

"Guess what – me neither."

"I can't do it now, I hardly ever sleep these days..." she frowned, meeting his gaze. She was standing in front of him, just a step away. On a closer look, she did look exhausted. He wanted to reach out and pull her onto his lap.

"Do you need more hands around here?"

"There're more than enough if you ask me."

"I wanted to make sure you had all your needs taken care of."

"I did, thank you."

He grinned inwardly at how hard she tried to conceal that she was now thinking exactly what was running through his mind. She closed her eyes on an exhale, just briefly, but enough to raise his pulse when he imagined how he would tend to all those needs that still needed attention.

He reached out to seize her hips and, gently, he pulled her towards him until she was standing between his knees. He stroked from her hips down to her thighs, slowly, up and down her outer thighs.

"Ares…"

He clasped his hands around the backs of her thighs, nuzzling her abdomen; gods, the way she smelled… he could feel her need with all his senses, dizzying, overwhelming.

"Ares…" she whispered breathlessly, and it only drove him crazier, the soft, pleading tone of her voice; this had to be what she would sound like if he made love to her with his mouth, if he—

"Xena, you're in there?"

They both composed themselves momentarily just a second before the blonde source of the most annoying voice in the world showed up in the doorway.

The fact that he didn't reflexively zap her right there was only because of the look Xena gave him before she turned towards Gabrielle, but for fuck's sake – it took the impossible to stop himself.

"I'm coming, Gabrielle."

It took him a good moment to calm down after the two left the room. But once he did, he took a deep breath, threw his head back against the headrest, closed his eyes, and for the next gods know how long, she was all he could see.

#