Chapter 3: Fevered Bonds

Ryla entered the room quietly. Her eyes immediately locked onto Xena's body as she laid sprawled on the bed, drenched in sweat, and tossing her head restlessly. Xena's skin glistened, her breathing uneven, while low moans escaped her lips. Ryla's eyes widened in panic as she rushed over to the bedside, placing her hand lightly on Xena's forehead. Her skin was burning hot.

Without a second thought, Ryla ran from the room, her heart pounding as she went to find Iphicles. When she found him, Iphicles was reviewing some documents in the main hall. His focus immediately changed when he saw the panic on the priestess' face.

"My lord," Ryla said breathlessly, "Xena... she's burning with fever, and I fear it's getting worse."

Iphicles rose from his seat, his face tightening with worry. When they arrived back in Xena's room, Iphicles approached the bed and placed a hand on Xena's forehead, feeling the heat radiating from her body. She was flushed, her cheeks red and her body trembling slightly as she continued to moan in her fevered state.

"She's burning up," Iphicles muttered under his breath. He turned to Ryla, his tone suddenly commanding.

"Bring me cold water, as many towels as you can find, and herbs for the fever. We'll need to cool her down quickly." Ryla nodded and rushed off to gather the supplies. As she left, Iphicles looked back at Xena, frowning deeply. He knew he needed to act fast. With care, he removed his regal top, setting it aside, and slid into the bed beside her. The covers were suffocatingly warm, so he quickly pulled them off her.

Once Ryla had returned with the supplies, his hands moved over the fabric of her long dress, trying to pat her skin down through the material. But the dress was too constricting, and he couldn't reach her skin like he wanted to. Frustrated, he sighed and climbed out of the bed, heading to the door. He opened it and called for Ryla.

"Ryla, come back quickly," Iphicles ordered. "We need to remove her dress—she's overheating. Drape towels over her before I come back in."

Ryla and a few more priestesses hurried back into the room, eyes wide but understanding the urgency. They worked quickly, gently removing Xena's dress and covering her with towels, as requested. Once Xena was ready, they exited, and Iphicles stepped back inside.

He paused for a moment at the sight of her. His breath caught. Even through her fever, Xena's body was strong, and yet, as his eyes moved over her, he couldn't help but be surprised. Her muscles, toned and firm, told the story of a warrior, but her skin—her skin was like silk. He remembered how it had felt earlier when he massaged the salve into her back, and now, seeing her fully, he was again struck by how soft she was.

Shaking his head, he slid back into the bed beside her. He had a job to do. Gently, he began patting her down with the cool towels, struggling to bring her temperature down. Xena continued to moan softly, her head rolling from side to side.

"Ar," Xena murmured weakly. "Ares..."

Iphicles paused for a moment, his brows creasing as he heard the name. Ares? The Ares? The God of War? She said his name again, her voice softer this time, almost like a plea.

"Ares..."

Iphicles shook his head, trying to dismiss the thought. How did she know Ares? And why would she be calling out to him in her fever? It didn't make sense. But he pushed the questions aside for now. His priority was to bring her fever down. He could ask later—if she'd even tell him.

Once he was satisfied that her temperature had lowered enough, Iphicles leaned back against the pillows. He hesitated for a moment before gently pulling Xena onto his chest, allowing her head to rest against his shoulder. He could monitor her body temperature better this way, keep her cool, and watch for any signs of distress. His eyes grew heavy as exhaustion overtook him, and soon, he drifted off to sleep with Xena in his arms.

Xena stirred as her body slowly recovered from the fever's grasp. For a moment, she felt warmth—comforting and familiar. In her groggy state, she thought she was back in Ares' arms. The feeling was soothing, the strength of his embrace making her feel safe, as if she were back in his world, shielded from everything else.

But as her mind cleared, reality crashed in. She wasn't with Ares. She'd left him.

Her eyes snapped open, and she blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of her surroundings. Her gaze darted down to her body, and a wave of shock washed over her when she realized she was practically naked, covered by nothing but a towel that barely draped over her chest and lower body.

She gasped and quickly looked to the man she was lying on—Iphicles. Fury surged through her.

"What the hell is this?!" Xena growled, shoving herself off his chest and scrambling to sit up, though her body still felt weak. Her eyes flashed with rage as she glared down at him.

"What did you do to me?" Iphicles slowly blinked as he tried to wake up and gather his thoughts. His arms instinctively moved up to steady her as she wobbled slightly.

"Xena, relax. You had a fever. I was cooling you down."

"Cooling me down by stripping me naked?" Xena spat, her hands gripping the covers tightly around her body.

"What gives you the right—"

"I didn't strip you," Iphicles interrupted, sitting up as well, though his voice remained composed.

"A few priestesses removed your dress to help bring your fever down. You were burning up, Xena. I was trying to keep you from getting worse." Xena's eyes narrowed, her fists clenching on the cover.

"You think just because you're a king, you can do whatever you want, whenever you want?" Iphicles raised an eyebrow at her.

"I'm not sure what you're imagining, but I can assure you, nothing inappropriate happened. I only did what was necessary to help." Xena's jaw tightened. He could see that her anger was not subsiding.

"If I ever catch you trying to undress me again—" Iphicles sighed, cutting her off with a faint smirk.

"Xena, I'm not scared of your threats. You were sick, and I helped. You don't have to thank me, but don't act like I wronged you." Xena's eyes blazed with frustration.

"I don't need anyone's help. Especially not from some arrogant king who thinks he's in control." Iphicles shrugged, leaning back against the pillows again, completely at ease.

"Maybe you don't need help," he said casually, "but right now, you're not exactly in a position to refuse it." Xena glared at him, but her body gave out again—her limbs felt heavy, and she knew she was still weak from the fever. Still, she refused to let him see it.

"Next time, keep your hands to yourself," Xena hissed, her voice low. Iphicles gave her a slow, steady look before replying calmly.

"Whatever you say." She gave him a cold look as she roughly settled back into the bed. Abruptly, she kicked him out the bed and he hit the floor with a loud thud. He rose up and looked at her with disbelief as he rubbed his side. She gave him a smirk and he walked out of her room.

Ares paced the length of his temple, his hands clenched into fists. His mind raced, a whirlpool of frustration and disbelief. Where is she? Xena hadn't returned yet. It was time for the weekly meeting on Mount Olympus, and for the past decade, she had always been by his side. This wasn't just any routine—they'd established a rhythm, a partnership. Without her, he felt as if something essential was missing.

He paused, grinding his teeth as he thought about how it would look. For ten years, he had walked into the meetings with Xena at his side, her presence as powerful and commanding as any of the gods. It wasn't just that she made him look good, which she certainly did—she made him feel... complete. Now, without her, he felt off. The God of War huffed, trying to shake off the feeling.

"She'll come around," he muttered to himself, though he didn't entirely believe it.

She always does.

But time was running short. With a frustrated sigh, Ares threw his head back and disappeared in a crack of blue light, materializing alone on Mount Olympus in the grand council chamber.

The large circular space was a dazzling display of the gods' domain. Everything shimmered with divine brilliance: marble pillars, golden floors, and an eternal sky that glowed above them. The thrones of each god were placed in a wide circle, facing inward, creating a space where their discussions—and often arguments—took place. Ares walked toward his seat, trying to keep his usual swagger. He knew the others would notice Xena's absence, but he had no intention of letting it become a topic of conversation.

As he took his place, Athena was the first to glance in his direction. Her eyes darted briefly to the empty space beside him where Xena usually stood. Ares could feel her eyes on him, but he ignored her. He kept his face impassive, jaw set.

A few more gods appeared, shimmering into their places. Artemis arrived next, followed by Apollo and Hades. Each one looked toward Ares, their eyes lingering for a second longer than usual.

The meeting began, but Ares was only half-listening. Zeus, seated on his massive throne at the head of the circle, spoke in his deep, powerful voice about matters of divine importance: the mortal realm, shifting alliances, and the occasional disruptions caused by petty human squabbles. Ares nodded along, pretending that he was engaged, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Xena. Where is she? It wasn't like her to miss something this important.

"And what about Xena?" came a voice that broke through Ares' internal thoughts. He looked up sharply, realizing the voice had come from Hades. The God of the Underworld leaned back in his seat, arms folded casually as he eyed Ares with a playful smirk. Ares' brow twitched.

"What about her?" he asked, trying to keep his tone neutral.

"Well, I couldn't help but notice you came here alone today. Xena not feeling well?" Ares heard the fakeness in his voice.

The other gods glanced at each other, some of them hiding their smirks behind casual expressions. Athena, seated not far from Ares, arched an eyebrow and leaned forward slightly.

"It is unusual," she mused, "for Xena to be absent. She's been such a... consistent annoyance at these meetings." Ares fought to keep his temper in check. His fists tightened, knuckles white under the pressure, but he forced himself to give a shrug.

"She's... busy," he replied, his voice cool and dismissive.

"She doesn't need to attend every single meeting, does she?"

Apollo, leaning back in his throne with his usual smug grin, laughed softly.

"Busy?" he echoed, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement. "Or maybe she's had enough of babysitting you? Ten years is a long time to be hanging around with the war god. Maybe she's finally realized she could do better." The other gods laughed at that, though Ares' patience was wearing thin. He forced himself to smile—a sharp, tight-lipped smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Careful, Apollo," he said, his voice low, "before you find yourself on the wrong end of my sword." Apollo's grin only widened, but Athena held up a hand to stop him from going further.

"We're just curious, Ares, it's not like Xena to be away from you for something as important as this. She's made it clear for years that her place is at your side." Artemis, who had been silent up until now, chimed in.

"Maybe Xena has grown tired of playing sidekick to the God of War," she said thoughtfully, though there was a teasing edge to her voice.

"Perhaps she's seeking... other ventures." Ares' jaw clenched. The teasing was becoming unbearable. He knew they were pushing his buttons, but the last thing he wanted was to give them the satisfaction of seeing him snap. Not over this.

"She's not my sidekick," Ares growled.

"Xena is my equal, a warrior who has earned her place here through strength and loyalty."

"Loyalty?" Hades echoed with a dark chuckle.

"Are you sure about that?"

Ares' patience snapped. His eyes flashed dangerously as he leaned forward, glaring at the god of the underworld.

"You should choose your next words carefully, Hades," he warned. "I'm not in the mood for your games." Hades merely shrugged,

"I'm just pointing out that loyalty can be a fragile thing. Mortals, even ones like Xena, are fickle. They change their minds, their allegiances, their partners..."

"Xena is no ordinary mortal," Ares interrupted sharply. "And she's not like the others."

"Ah," Athena said, her tone thoughtful as she leaned back in her seat, "but she is still mortal, isn't she? No matter how strong or capable she is, that fact remains. Perhaps... she's begun to remember that herself."

Ares' eyes darted toward her, his irritation growing. Athena, of all the gods, knew how to get under his skin. She could see through most of his threats, and that made her dangerous. Artemis folded her arms, her gaze resting on Ares with an almost pitying look.

"Maybe she's starting to feel overwhelmed."

"I'd be overwhelmed too if I had to deal with Ares on a daily basis," Apollo joked, earning another round of laughter from the others. Ares gritted his teeth. He wasn't about to let them know just how much Xena's absence bothered him. He needed to keep control. If he showed weakness now, they'd never let it go.

"She'll be back," Ares said firmly, his voice cold and final. "Xena has her reasons for being away, but make no mistake, she's not gone. And when she returns, you'll all regret doubting her."

"Ah, so she's on a vacation," Apollo exclaimed, still not letting up. "Or maybe she's off with someone else? After all, Xena's always been a bit... adventurous, hasn't she?" Athena smiled,

"Yes, I do remember she has a weakness for another brother of mine."

Ares' patience finally shattered. His fists slammed onto the armrests of his throne, and the room shook with the force of his rage.

"Enough!" he roared, his voice echoing through the chamber. "One more word out of any of you about Xena, and I'll remind you why I'm the God of War." The other gods fell silent, but Ares could see the smirks lingering on their faces. They had gotten what they wanted—a reaction. But he didn't care anymore. He was done playing along.

Zeus finally spoke.

"Calm yourself, Ares," he said in his deep voice, though there was no real reproach in it.

"The meeting is nearly over. Let's keep our focus on the matters at hand." Ares forced himself to breathe, his body still tense with anger. He leaned back in his throne, his arms crossed tightly over his chest as he glared at the others. The conversation continued, but he barely heard a word of it. All he could think about was Xena. Where was she? And why hadn't she called for him?

As the meeting wrapped up, the gods began to leave one by one. Ares lingered for a moment longer, his eyes narrowing as he watched Athena and Apollo whispering quietly to each other. He knew they would never stop teasing him, not until Xena returned and proved them wrong. With a final glance around the chamber, Ares stood and disappeared in a flash of light, reappearing in his temple once again.

The first few days passed in silence between Xena and Iphicles, with only necessary words exchanged. Iphicles had kept a close eye on her recovery, and although Xena refused to be cared for, she didn't have the strength to fight him off.

By the third day, she felt her energy returning bit by bit. She hated it—being vulnerable, being taken care of—it went against everything she knew about survival. She sat up in the large bed, trying to ignore the luxurious surroundings. Her fingers traced the soft blanket, and she couldn't help but scoff at how out of place she felt.

Iphicles entered the room, carrying a tray of food. He'd been visiting her regularly, checking on her, and each time Xena prepared herself for another round of polite rejection.

"You're awake," he said with a smile, placing the tray down on the small table beside her bed.

"Unfortunately," she muttered, rubbing her temple as if the very act of waking up in this situation caused her pain. Iphicles raised an eyebrow, unfazed by her sharp tone. He had quickly learned that Xena's bark was far worse than her bite, so he thought.

"Eat something," he urged, nudging the tray toward her.

"You'll feel better."

"I doubt that," she responded, though she reached for the bread anyway. It was clear she needed the food, even if she wouldn't admit it. Iphicles watched her for a moment, then took a seat on the edge of the bed. Xena tensed but didn't say anything.

"You're strong," he said casually, though his eyes studied her closely.

"I can tell just by looking at you."

Xena paused mid-bite, then glanced at him with a guarded expression.

"Is that your subtle way of flattering women?" she asked dryly. "By pointing out their physique?" Iphicles laughed softly, shaking his head.

"I'm not trying to flatter you. It's just... impressive. You're obviously a warrior." Xena rolled her eyes, setting the bread down.

"And that surprises you?"

"No, not surprised," he said thoughtfully. "Curious. It's not every day a woman like you ends up in my care." Xena's gaze sharpened.

"A woman like me?"

"A warrior, with strength like yours," he explained, but the spark in his eye showed he noticed how defensive she was getting. Xena leaned back against the pillows, crossing her arms.

"Let me guess. You think you're the first person to notice I'm not some delicate flower?" Iphicles smiled slightly.

"Hardly. I'm just wondering where you honed those skills."

"Nowhere," she answered bluntly, her tone signaling she wasn't interested in going down that road.

"Nowhere," he echoed, amused by her deflection.

"Must be quite a place."

"It's not," she snapped, then winced as she felt the familiar tickle of a cough rising in her throat. Iphicles' amusement faded as concern took over.

"You're still not fully recovered. Let me—"

"I'm fine," she cut him off, stubbornly pushing through the coughing fit.

"I don't need you checking on me every five minutes."

"I'm not checking on you every five minutes," Iphicles replied patiently.

"It's every few hours."

Xena shot him a glare, but Iphicles didn't budge, meeting her stare with the same calm demeanor he'd shown since the beginning.

"You're persistent."

"It's been said," he responded with a small smile. Xena leaned her head back against the headboard, her eyes narrowing as she looked at him.

"You must have a lot of time on your hands to spend it babysitting me."

"I don't consider it babysitting," Iphicles replied.

"You're a guest."

"I'm a prisoner," she corrected, though there was no real venom in her words.

"You're free to leave whenever you like," Iphicles said while he gestured towards the door.

"But in your condition, I'd suggest waiting until you're a little stronger."

Xena rolled her eyes again but didn't respond. He was right, as much as it irritated her. She wasn't at full strength yet, and as much as she hated to admit it, staying put for now was probably the best option.