Calm before the storm Chapter 1, a xena: warrior princess fanfic

Calm before the storm

blurb: She never knew she loved him; not until he gave her a shelter from the storm.

Author's notes: "Eternal Bonds" is the most painful episode for me to watch in terms of Ares' utter pigheadedness - so, for the sake of my (and the fellow sufferers') sanity, here's a fix-it fic.

Pairing: Xena/Ares (F/M) Rating: M

"Thou and I are but the blind instruments of some irresistible fatality, that hurries us along, like goodly vessels driving before the storm, which are dashed against each other, and so perish."

Walter Scott

The evening was warm, the air still and heavy, coating the skin with the sweaty glow.

Calm before the storm.

Like in the dream that she tried to force out of her mind, out of her memory, her face burning as the flashbacks kept flooding her for hours, assaulting, relentless, impossible to escape like he was; the scent of him, his aura, both dark and warm, the pulsating heat, filling her, all of her, till she went blind, till she begged him not to stop.

Son of a bitch.

Well, it was time to snap out of it. She had to meet up with Gabrielle and Joxer, and there was still a long way ahead of her. Not to mention her stomach was rumbling, and now, with the sun gone and skies turning dark gray, the time to find a shelter from the storm was running out.

She froze and turned towards the rustle to her right; it was too dark to see through the tall grass, but most likely a hare, from the sound and speed of it. "Well, there goes dinner," she muttered wryly. "Don't worry, we'll catch the next one," she said reassuringly, addressing the soft whimpers coming from the little green bundle wrapped up in a sling across her chest. "Gotta find a campsite first."

She glanced over the darkened sky, the growing humidity in the air filling her lungs with every breath. "You don't like storms, huh?" She looked at the baby in her arms, frowning with concern, sighing when loud fussing turned into wailing. "Well, sometimes you just gotta learn to live with what you don't like. Especially if it's not going anywhere."

She trodded forward, a breath leaving her lungs noisily as her own words echoed in her mind, a bitter smirk on her face at the irony of it.

He wasn't going anywhere.

He was a god, had always been there, always would be. He wasn't going to let her go; he was too stubborn for that.

But she had learned to live with it. With him lurking around; their occasional encounters, when he challenged her, pushed her buttons to entertain himself. That was him, the god she knew. The god she learned to live with. Him, she knew how to deal with, knew what to expect, knew how to handle it.

The recent one, the one telling her he saw her face everywhere, that he wanted a life with her — she didn't. The one from last night's dream, the one who saved her baby, the one whose words and touch melted all her defenses away — that one was confusing. Not to mention her knees went soft at just the memory of his gaze on her.

She could just call him; just this once. It's not like she hadn't slept with him before.

She could just do it; tear the leathers off him and get her fill, get this madness out of her system. It wouldn't mean a thing. She could say his name right now, and he would be here within a heartbeat, eager to please her till she couldn't breathe, like he used to, years ago, when he would come to her tent after a battle and take her before any of them had time to speak.

It would've been a lie to say she didn't miss it; a bigger lie to say it was the first time she woke up with his name on her lips, all sweaty from a dream — but this one — it hit different. In this one, they did speak; he did, confusing her, the words still burning her ears, the things whispered to fuck with her mind, to cloud her judgement; things that hit somewhere deep where she didn't want it; where he shouldn't be able to reach.

Things he didn't mean.

With the Twilight on his tail, scared for his life, he'd say anything to get to her, to stay on her good side, so that she spared him when push came to shove; cunning bastard. Trying to convince her that he cared about her.

Himself and his best interest, that was the only thing he ever cared about.

With a growl, she slashed her blade across the shrubs in front of her, scolding herself inwardly for the absurdity of it. It was just a dream, for Tartarus' sake. They never had that talk, he never saved Eve, never said any of it. And she never let it get to her, never believed it, not for a second, not when he said it, not when he held her close, his mouth roaming down her neck, not when he made her inarticulate when he — none of it happened — and getting all worked up about something that didn't happen — was just madness, and if she was going to spend another moment dwelling on it, she would—

"I'm gonna go crazy…" She grimaced, squeezing her eyes shut. "Well, here we are, Eve." She stopped an inch away before the sizeable ditch, hardly visible in the advancing darkness. "I'll make us a little something to cover us from the rain and we're good for the night, what do you say?"

Having gathered whatever was around, she started braiding and patching the grass and twigs into a makeshift cover. It was going to take forever, but that was what she needed; to get her hands and mind busy with work.

She stopped when she decided the size was enough to cover Eve. She herself didn't need it; after all, there was no harm in getting soaked on a hot, summer night like this.

"At least one of us is gonna eat tonight." She smiled, settling comfortably on the ground and reaching to undo the ties of her cleavage. And, pressed her eyes shut when the feel of her own hand on her breast made her shudder, triggering a memory of another hand cradling it, another mouth closing over it, gods — she exhaled with a swoosh, shaking her head to compose herself.

"It's nice to finally have a meal without interruptions, huh?" She ran her thumb across the girl's forehead, the sight of the little mouth latched onto her breast filling her with calm. Recently, moments like this weren't plenty; times when she could sit back and just be a mother, without anticipating attackers every step of the way.

Or him.

She grunted, another warm current running her through at the memory; his hold on her, possessive, but different than usual; some strange tenderness to it; their bodies melted together, joined so completely that her eyes clamped shut and she couldn't speak nor breathe; gods, if he showed up here now, she would lose it…

Head thrown back, she stared at the gray plane of the sky, welcoming the first soft little raindrops spraying over her face; and aching for more, to cool off the skin, the growing heat in her cheeks that wouldn't go away; to cleanse him off her completely, inside and out.

The first thunder rumbled in the distance.

Storm was coming.