Chapter 1: Cost of Survival
Rain poured against the windows, loud and steady, as Gabrielle and Eve sat near the fire, its glow casting shadows across the room. Gabrielle held one of her scrolls open as she read out loud. Eve leaned closer, listening, her arms resting on her knees. Her eyes creased slightly as she tried to absorb the words, excited to hear about the adventures of their travels.
In the corner, Xena sharpened her sword, the steady scrape of metal filling the spaces between Gabrielle's words. She kept her focus on the blade while her mind raced. After all this time, convincing Livia that she was Eve, her daughter, should have felt like a victory. But it didn't. Xena knew the gods would come for them—it was only a matter of time. She knew they wouldn't stop until Eve was dead.
So far, only Ares knew that Livia was Eve. Twenty-five years. Twenty-five years had gone by since the day she gave birth to Eve, and she was still fighting the gods to protect her. Her jaw clenched. Livia, or Eve—whatever name she chose—had done horrible things, left scars across the world that no one could erase in her time as Rome's Champion.
And yet, Xena's love for her was unshakable. She would do anything to protect her, anything. Except dying. She knew better than to trust the gods, no matter what they promised. If she died for Eve, they wouldn't stop hunting her daughter. They'd come at her harder, more relentlessly, until there was nothing left of her. That was a price Xena couldn't pay.
No. She had to stay alive. After being asleep for 25 years, missing her chance to raise her daughter, she refused to leave again. Her grip tightened on the hilt of her sword. She'd fight. She'd bleed. But she wouldn't leave. Not again. Her fingers tightened on the sword as her thoughts changed, dragging her back to the past.
Rome. Xena hated Rome with every fiber of her being. And the thought of her daughter, her daughter, marrying Octavius, a Roman, had been more than she could stomach. Over her dead body. She knew then what had to be done. To stop that marriage, she had to expose Livia's darkest secret: her love for Ares.
She frowned, the memory of Ares creeping into her mind like an unwelcome guest. His name alone made her grip tighten on the hilt of her blade. That selfish bastard, she thought, her jaw tightening. How dare he awaken the darkness within Eve and then claim he didn't know? Liar. He always knew. There was no way Ares couldn't feel the connection, couldn't sense her somewhere deep down. He just enjoyed the game too much to admit it. Always scheming, always manipulating.
The memory made Xena's stomach churn. It had been bad enough to know Ares had manipulated Livia into loving him, but watching him with her—seeing his tongue down Livia's throat—had been more than Xena could bear. Her lips pressed into a thin line. She meant every word when she told Ares that if he were mortal, she would cut out his heart. He had the audacity to tell her he loved her, then turned around and tangled himself up with her daughter.
And the bacchanalia… Xena snorted softly to herself, her hand stilling briefly on the whetstone. The whole night had been a performance. She hadn't just needed to stop Octavius from marrying her daughter—no, that would've been too simple. She also needed to remind Livia, in front of everyone, exactly who Ares' favorite really was. Xena smirked at the memory.
The way she exposed Livia to Octavius had been brutal, yes, but necessary. The Roman had to see Livia for who she truly was, a pawn for Ares and a killer for Rome. There was no way Xena would let her daughter marry into that cesspool of politics and war. But what satisfied her most was showing Livia— and Ares —the truth. She was the one Ares would always come back to. Not Livia, not anyone else. Xena. She knew it, and she made sure they both knew it too.
Her smirk faded as she thought about what came after. That night had been the beginning of the end for Livia as Rome's Champion and the first step in her path back to being Eve. It had also been a reminder of how deeply Ares could manipulate and twist even those she loved most. She hated him for it. Hated him for everything he did to her daughter.
Still, even he had a way of surprising her when she least expected it. She thought back to when Athena had taken Amphipolis under siege. She almost went through with his ridiculous deal then. Her eyes narrowed, and her lips twitched into a faint, humorless smile. Lying there on top of him, her body draped in nothing but that fur blanket, she felt herself slipping. If that temple wall hadn't exploded, if the battle hadn't interrupted them, she might've done it. She would've given in to him right there. The thought burned in her chest—not anger, but something more complicated, something she didn't want to name.
Her mind then thought about the look he gave her. That look when he had grabbed baby Eve from the tree where she had tied her, back when Xena had been fighting off three armies sent by Apollo, Athena, and Poseidon. The nerve of him, judging her as if she were a bad mother for choosing to fight rather than agree to his selfish deal. Being with him? Giving him a child? Tuh. She scoffed at the memory. Did he think saying he loved her over and over would make her forget who he was?
Above all, there was that moment, the one she couldn't push away no matter how hard she tried. When he stopped Athena from killing that doll he thought was Eve. That line he said: "Blood runs harder when love is involved." She had no idea why those words had hit her so deeply.
Maybe it was the way he said them, so raw, so unguarded. He stood there, completely vulnerable, professing his love for her out loud as if he didn't care who heard. She was so quick to throw it back at him, telling him she felt nothing in that temple room when they'd been so close. But the truth was, he set her heart ablaze in that room.
She had faced death more times than she could count, but some moments stayed with her, lingering like an old wound. One of them was the day she looked death in the eye—literally. She let out a slow breath. That moment… it wasn't the plan she had wanted, but it had been necessary.
She remembered standing there, the vial of death's tears in her hand, ready to make the gods believe that she was ready end it all. Out of nowhere, he appeared. The god of war, with his arrogance and his smirk that barely hid what was brewing underneath. Ready to ruin everything, as usual. Except this time, it wasn't his smugness that stayed with her—it was the look in his eyes.
Hurt. Fear. Raw and unguarded in a way she rarely saw from him. He had truly believed she was going to die in that moment. She could see it, plain as day. His walls had cracked, and for once, the real Ares had been standing in front of her.
It had taken her breath away. Not the tears. Not the plan falling apart. Him. The way his voice had broken when he called her name, the way he looked at her like he couldn't imagine a world where she didn't exist. She shook her head, trying to push him away. It hadn't stopped him from interfering—he still managed to make her plan backfire. But this time, it wasn't his fault.
What stayed with her wasn't the frustration of that day but the tenderness he showed after. She hadn't expected that. When she woke up to find herself encased in ice, she was furious at first. But then she saw it—the flowers. Her sword. Her chakram. He put them there with her, like a tribute, a promise, a declaration all at once. It wasn't much, but it had spoken volumes. Ares hadn't entombed her out of conquest or arrogance. He had done it out of love.
That realization had shaken her. Ares, who seemed incapable of true vulnerability, had given her something no one else ever had. A gesture so simple, yet so profound. It had left her questioning everything she thought she knew about him. And it still did, even now.
Her hand stilled on the blade, and she closed her eyes for a moment. She didn't want to admit how much that memory affected her. How deeply it still pulled at her heart. But she couldn't ignore it, no matter how hard she tried. The god of war, the bane of her existence, had done something selfless. For her. And that… that was something she would never forget.
But now, 25 years later, sitting here sharpening her sword, she let the thought creep in. If she had taken that deal back then, would she be sitting here now, wondering when the gods were going to attack them again? Or would they have found peace? Would she have been able to raise her daughter instead of waking up to find she had grown into a stranger?
A rush of sadness swept over her, and her hand stilled on the whetstone. She felt the sting of a tear, but she brushed it away before it could fall. There was no use crying over the past. Regret didn't change anything. She had Eve now. And no matter what, she must protect her. She glanced at Eve, her jaw tightening. At least her daughter was a warrior who could hold her own. Even with her vowing to no longer fight, she knew, she had to fight against the gods. They needed all the help they could get.
Her grip on the sword tightened as her instincts tingled. The storm masked the usual sounds of the forest, but her instincts whispered danger. Something was off. Xena stood, sliding her weapon into its sheath.
"I'll be back," she said, her voice firm but quiet. Gabrielle looked up from the scroll.
"What's wrong?" Xena grabbed her cloak and pulled it over her shoulders.
"Nothing yet. I just need to check the perimeter." She glanced at Eve, who was watching her closely.
"Stay inside, both of you."
"Be careful." Eve looked up as well, giving her a small nod.
Outside, the storm hit her like a wall. Rain soaked through her cloak, but she barely noticed. Her eyes scanned the treeline. The night felt wrong, like it was holding its breath. The cold bite of the storm was nothing compared to the nagging unease clawing at her gut. Then she felt it—a familiar presence that sent a chill down her spine. She turned, and there he was. Ares. He stood in the downpour with a blank expression.
"What do you want?" she snapped. Ares tilted his head, raindrops sliding down his face as he studied her.
"You're on edge," he said, his voice calm. "You should be. They're coming." Xena's heart clenched, though her expression remained blank.
"Who?"
"The others," Ares replied, his voice dropping. "Athena, Apollo, Hephaestus, Hades, Artemis—they know about Eve. They've known for a while. I've done what I can to hold them off, but I'm not their keeper." Xena's hand tightened on the hilt of her sword.
"How long?" Ares shrugged.
"Minutes, maybe less. You need to be ready." Xena's eyes burned with fury.
"You waited until now to tell me?" Ares stepped even closer.
"I didn't wait. I bought you time, Xena. I've been stalling them for days, but they won't listen to reason. You know how this ends." Her jaw tightened, and she turned sharply, heading back towards the farmhouse. Ares caught her arm, stopping her in her tracks. She spun, her eyes flashing with anger.
"Don't touch me," she hissed.
"You'll need me for this." Xena yanked her arm free, her glare cutting through him.
"I don't need you. Ever." Ares watched her storm away, his jaw clenching. The gods were coming, and Xena's stubbornness was going to get her killed.
Back inside, Xena burst through the door, startling Gabrielle and Eve.
"They're coming," she said, her voice sharp. "Athena, Apollo, Hephaestus,—all of them." Gabrielle's face paled as she stood quickly. Eve immediately reached for her sword.
"What do we do?" Gabrielle asked, already moving to gather her things.
"We fight," Xena said, her voice steady.
"Barricade the doors and windows. Gabrielle, get to higher ground. Eve, stay with me. We hold them off as long as we can."
The farmhouse erupted into a flurry of movement as they prepared for battle. Xena felt the weight of what was coming, but she forced it down. Survival was all that mattered now.
The first strike came without warning. The front door exploded inward, sending shards of wood flying as a bright flash of light illuminated the room. Athena stepped inside, her armor gleaming, her eyes cold and devious.
"You should have stayed hidden," Athena said, her voice sharp. "This ends now."
The battle had begun.
Xena barely had time to react before Athena lunged, her sword igniting into blazing fire as it sliced through the air. Xena blocked the blow, the heat searing the edges of her blade as the impact shook her arm. Eve sprang forward, her sword blocking Artemis' arrow mid-flight before clashing with the goddess herself. Artemis spun gracefully, shooting another arrow at point-blank range, forcing Eve to block awkwardly. The deafening clash of steel and cries of battle filled the room.
Gabrielle darted between them, her sais intercepting a pair of spinning chains hurled by Hephaestus. The blacksmith god roared with fury, his massive arms swinging another chain with deadly force. The impact against the floor sent cracks spidering through the wooden planks and nearly knocked Gabrielle off her feet.
Apollo shot a glowing arrow, its golden tip igniting into flames mid-air. Xena barely dodged, the heat scorching her side and burning her leathers. She rolled to her feet, her sword flashing as she swung at Athena. The goddess blocked effortlessly, the fiery blade's force driving Xena back a step.
Eve fought fiercely, her movements deadly as she closed the gap between herself and Artemis. But Artemis was relentless. Her supply of arrows seemed endless as she fired shot after shot, forcing Eve into a defensive position. The goddess ducked under Eve's guard and kicked her in the stomach. Eve stumbled back, gasping for air, only for Artemis to follow with a hard blow from her bow, slamming it against Eve's head. The force sent Eve crashing to the ground, unconscious.
"Eve!" Xena screamed, her heart pounding as she saw her daughter fall. She moved to protect her, but Apollo fired another flaming arrow, forcing Xena to roll away at the last second. Gabrielle moved to help, only to be struck by Hephaestus' spinning chains. The force sent her flying through the wooden railing of the upstairs loft. She crashed through the floorboards, landing in a pile on the ground below, motionless.
"Gabrielle!" Xena's voice cracked as she saw her friend lying still. Panic clawed at her, but she couldn't afford to freeze. She had to protect them both.
Xena threw herself toward her daughter, grabbing her unconscious body and dragging her behind a broken table. Her muscles screamed in protest, her side aching from a deep gash. She shoved Eve into a corner, using what little cover she could find.
"Stay safe," she whispered, even though Eve couldn't hear her.
Athena and Artemis advanced, their weapons glowing menacingly. Athena's flaming sword blazed dangerously, while Artemis prepared another arrow. Xena stepped forward, battered and bleeding, but still gripping her sword. Her arms felt impossibly heavy, and every breath burned, but she refused to back down.
Athena struck first, her sword grazing Xena's shoulder with a fiery arc. Xena retaliated, her blade catching Athena off guard and nicking her arm. Before she could recover, Artemis lunged, her arrow already loaded and ready to fire. Xena raised her sword in a desperate block, the impact sending pain shooting through her bruised arms.
"You can't win this," Athena said coldly, her flaming sword pointed directly at Xena's heart. "You're only delaying the inevitable.
Xena didn't answer. She swung again, her movements slower now, her strength fading. Blood dripped from a cut on her forehead, stinging her eyes, but she didn't stop.
She couldn't.
A sudden wave of exhaustion hit her, and she stumbled. Artemis seized the opportunity, slashing across Xena's side. The pain was blinding, but Xena gritted her teeth and swung wildly, forcing Artemis to retreat for a moment.
She glanced back at Eve and Gabrielle, both lying motionless. The gods weren't tiring, but she was. Her legs trembled, her vision blurred, and her sword felt heavier with each passing second.
She had no choice.
Xena staggered backwards, retreating into the back of the house. She leaned against the wall, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. Blood soaked her leathers, but she ignored it. Her fingers tightened around her sword before she released it, letting the blade clatter to the floor.
"Ares!" she called out, her voice hoarse.
The god of war appeared instantly, his expression dark as he took in her battered form. She turned to him, her face streaked with blood and tears, but her eyes were hard.
"I'll do it," she said, her voice shaking.
"I'll make the deal. Just save them." Ares stepped closer, his usual smirk replaced by something more serious.
"Say it, Xena," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "Say the words." She swallowed hard, her fists clenching at her sides.
"I don't have time for your games! I'm yours. I'll give you what you want. Just save them." Ares nodded, his gaze lingering on her for a moment before he turned toward the chaos in the other room.
"You're mine now, Xena. Completely. Stay here. This is going to get messy." Xena slid to the floor, her body too broken to follow. All she could do now was trust him—and hope she hadn't just damned them all.
Athena mocked Xena, telling her that she couldn't hide and be a good little mortal and give them her daughter. Suddenly, a golden barrier materialized around Gabrielle and Eve, shielding them from further harm. The gods froze and their eyes narrowed as Ares materialized in front of them.
"Well, well," Athena sneered, her lip curling in disgust. "Not surprised to see you here. And, of course, on the wrong side." Ares smirked, his gaze sweeping over the gods before landing on Athena.
"Wrong side? Depends on how you look at it." He gestured casually toward the unconscious Gabrielle and Eve.
"I'm just here to clean up your mess."
Athena's eyes burned with fury, but before she could respond, Artemis moved. Her bow flashed in the smoky light, an arrow shot with deadly precision aimed straight at Ares' chest. The attack was so sudden that even Xena flinched. But Ares didn't move—his hand shot up, catching the arrow mid-flight as if it were nothing more than a stray twig.
"Really, Artemis?" he said, his voice calm, almost bored.
"You should know better." Without hesitation, he flung the arrow back with enough force that sent Artemis crashing into the far wall. She slumped to the ground, unconscious. The room fell silent, the other gods staring at Ares. Some had anger on their faces, others shock. But Athena, her face was blank while she stared as Ares. Ares turned to face them fully, his smirk fading into something colder, sharper.
"Now that I have your attention, let's talk."
Xena leaned heavily against the wall, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Her eyes met Ares', and for a moment, she saw something in his expression—a touch of concern, of reassurance. He turned away, addressing the gods.
"You all really don't get it, do you?" he said, his voice carrying easily over the crackling flames and falling rubble.
"Xena isn't just another mortal. She's a god-killer. You've seen it yourselves. And now, with me at her side, she's unstoppable. Attack her, and you're not just risking your pride—you're risking extinction." Apollo's hands clenched into fists, his golden glow brightening as if to challenge Ares. But Athena raised a hand, stopping him. Her gaze was locked on Ares. Ares continued, stepping forward.
"You keep pushing her, keep coming after her daughter, and you're the ones guaranteeing the Twilight of the Gods. She doesn't want it, but she'll bring it if you force her hand." He gestured toward Artemis, still slumped on the ground.
"Case in point. That was one arrow. Imagine what happens when I decide to make this personal." Athena's jaw tightened.
"You think she'll just go along with your little plan? That she won't turn on you the first chance she gets?" Ares smirked again.
"That's where you're wrong. Xena and I? We're a team now. She's under my protection, which means her daughter is too. Leave them alone, and we all walk away. But keep coming after them, and I promise you, none of you will survive what happens next." The gods exchanged glances. Athena's face was full of fury, but she said nothing. Ares waited, letting the silence linger before speaking again.
"Your choice. But make the wrong one, and don't say I didn't warn you."
Without another word, the gods began to retreat, their forms disappearing one by one. Athena was the last to leave, her glare burning into Ares before she vanished.
As the room settled into an uneasy quiet, Ares turned back to Xena. She was still leaning against the wall, her sword hanging limply at her side. He walked to her and offered her a hand.
"Told you it'd get messy," he said, his voice lighter now. Xena hesitated before taking his hand.
"Messy doesn't even begin to cover it." Their eyes met, and for a moment, the air between them felt heavy with everything unsaid. Ares pulled her to her feet, his hand lingering just a second longer than necessary.
"We're not done yet," Xena said, her voice low but steady.
"No," Ares agreed, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "But for now, they know who they're dealing with." Xena nodded, but the weight of what had just happened pressed heavily on her. The gods were gone—for now. But she knew they'd be back.
Blinding light forced her to shield her eyes. When she opened them, she was in another location. The room was quiet except for the faint crackle of a fireplace. Xena stood in the center, her sword still in hand, though her body ached from head to toe. She had no idea where she was—one moment, she was surrounded by the wreckage of the farmhouse, and now she was here. The house was lavish, almost too much. Plush furniture filled the room, and the faint scent of fresh flowers hung in the air. A marble bath sat in the corner, steaming as if prepared just for them.
Before she could even form a question, Ares appeared. He leaned casually against the doorway. His desire filled eyes scanned her, and he smiled faintly.
"Heal," he said softly. "When it's time to seal our deal, I'll call for you." Xena's jaw clenched, her eyes narrowing. Ares stepped closer, his voice dropping as he raised a hand to her face.
"You've earned this. Rest while you can." Xena yanked her head away, glaring.
"Don't touch me." Ares sighed, shaking his head like she was a child refusing to see reason.
"You'll thank me later." With that, he vanished, leaving her standing alone. Xena stared at the empty space where he stood, her frown deepening.
"Bastard," she muttered under her breath.
A soft moan broke her thoughts. Her head snapped around, and she saw Eve stirring in the bed that hadn't been there moments ago. Ares had already placed both Gabrielle and Eve in separate beds, tucked neatly into the comfort of silk sheets.
"Eve!" Xena rushed to her daughter's side, sliding onto the bed and pulling her into her arms.
"Eve, honey, are you okay?" Her voice softened, the tension in her tone replaced with motherly concern as she stroked Eve's face. Eve's eyelids fluttered open, and she gave a weak nod.
"I think so," she whispered. Xena leaned over and grabbed a glass of water from the bedside table. She gently held it to Eve's lips.
"Here, drink."
Eve sipped the water, her breathing slowing as her strength began to return. Xena placed the empty glass aside, brushing Eve's hair back from her damp forehead.
"Rest now," she murmured. "You're safe."
Her attention turned to the other bed, where Gabrielle remained still. Xena moved quickly, grabbing a bucket of warm water and a clean cloth. She pulled a chair beside Gabrielle and began dabbing at the wounds on her friend's face and arms. The steady rhythm of her movements was interrupted when Gabrielle stirred, letting out a faint groan.
"Gabrielle," Xena said softly, rubbing the side of her friend's face. "How are you feeling?" Gabrielle's eyes opened slowly, and a small smile curved her lips.
"I'm alive," she said, her voice hoarse. "That's something, right?" Xena smiled faintly.
"It's everything." Gabrielle's eyes scanned the room, her brows creasing as she took in the unfamiliar surroundings.
"Where are we?" Xena's gaze dropped to the floor with a blank expression. She couldn't meet Gabrielle's eyes.
"Xena," Gabrielle pressed, her voice firmer now. "Where are we, and how did we get here?" Xena let out a slow breath before answering.
"Ares brought us here."
The words hung in the air, heavy and sharp. Gabrielle's lips parted in shock as she sat up slightly. She exchanged a confused glance with Eve, who was now watching closely from her bed.
"Why would he bring us here?" Gabrielle asked, her tone cautious. Xena's head lowered again, guilt washing over her face. Gabrielle's eyes widened in realization. She covered her mouth with her hand.
"Xena… please tell me you didn't go through with the deal." Xena shook her head quickly.
"No, I didn't… not yet." But even as she spoke, her mind raced with everything she wasn't saying. She felt the load of the truth pressing down on her, but she couldn't bring herself to reveal it—not now. They didn't know. They didn't know that agreeing to give Ares a child wasn't the whole deal. That the other part meant being with him.
Her stomach churned as she replayed his words from the temple. "You're mine now, Xena. Completely." The memory made her throat tighten. She had agreed, hadn't she? And no matter how much she tried to convince herself it was only to save Gabrielle and Eve, part of her knew that wasn't the whole truth.
Gabrielle let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, relief flashing across her face. But before she could respond, Xena continued.
"I did agree to it, though." The room fell silent. Eve sat up straight, her eyes wide.
"No," she said sharply, her voice trembling. "Mother, no. You can't do this." Xena turned to Eve. A single tear slipped down her cheek as she gave her daughter a bittersweet smile.
"It's too late. Ares already helped us. He saved you both. The gods are off our backs… for now." Gabrielle shook her head in disbelief.
"Xena, we'll figure something out. You don't have to go through with this. Please." Eve reached out, grabbing her mother's arm.
"You don't owe him anything. We'll fight, we'll find another way—anything but this." Xena placed her hand over Eve's and squeezed gently.
"You don't understand. He'll call for me soon, and when he does…" Her voice faltered for a moment before she continued. "This isn't about what I want. This is about keeping you both alive." Gabrielle's eyes filled with tears.
"And what about you, Xena? What does this cost you?" Xena didn't answer. She couldn't. Instead, she pulled Eve into a tight embrace and pressed her forehead against her daughter's.
"Rest, both of you," she said softly, her voice trembling.
"We're safe for now. That's all that matters."
Gabrielle and Eve exchanged a look. They wouldn't give up on Xena—not now, not ever. But deep down, Xena knew the truth. Ares would come for her soon, and no amount of arguing would change that.