Chapter 3: Living in the Moment

The room was quiet, the fire casting dancing shadows across the walls. Ares laid back against the pillows, his hand massaging over Xena's waist. She stared at the ceiling, her body stiff despite the warmth of his skin against hers. The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating. She broke it with a sharp, biting comment.

"Well, there you have it," she said dryly, her voice cutting through the stillness. "Transaction complete."

Ares froze, his hand stilling on her side. He propped himself up on one elbow, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at her.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," she said, turning her head to meet his gaze. "You got what you wanted. The deal's sealed." His expression darkened, and he sat up fully, running a hand through his hair.

"Is that what you think this was?" he asked, his voice quieter now, but no less intense. "A transaction?" Xena shrugged, her lips curling into a bitter smile.

"What else could it be? You named the terms, I agreed. This was just part of the deal."

Ares' jaw clenched, his frustration rising. He turned toward her, his gaze locking onto hers. "Don't do that, Xena. Don't cheapen this."

"Cheap?" she repeated with a scoff, sitting up to face him. "What do you expect me to say, Ares? That this was some grand, romantic moment? That I wanted this? That I felt something?"

"Yes," he shot back, his voice rising. "Because you did feel something and you wanted this just as much as I did. Don't lie to me—and don't lie to yourself." Her eyes flashed with anger as she leaned closer.

"You don't know what I felt."

"I know exactly what you felt," he countered, his voice steady but laced with heat. "I felt it too. You think you can just pretend it wasn't real? That you didn't want this as much as I did?" She laughed bitterly, shaking her head.

"You're unbelievable. You'll say anything to make yourself feel better, won't you? Let me make it easy for you: I felt nothing."

Ares stared at her, his expression hardening as her words cut deep. For a moment, he said nothing, his jaw working as he tried to control his temper. Then, with a deadly slowness, he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper.

"You're lying." Xena's breath hitched, and she hated the way her body betrayed her, the way her pulse quickened at his nearness.

"You don't know what I'm feeling," she said, her voice trembling slightly despite her best efforts to keep it steady.

"I do," he said firmly, his hand reaching out to brush against her cheek. "I know you, Xena. Better than anyone. And I know that you're scared to admit the truth." She pulled back, her eyes narrowing.

"The truth?" she repeated. "What truth?"

"That you wanted this," he said simply. "That you wanted me."

"Well, let me tell you the truth you're so desperate to hear," Xena spat, her voice like steel. Her eyes burned into his, her body rigid with fury. "You disgust me! I will never get your stench off of me, no matter how long I soak in a bath."

Ares straightened, his smirk faltering, but she wasn't done.

"You don't love me," she continued, her tone rising with every word. "You don't give a damn about me! All I've ever been to you is a piece of ass. Free ass at that!"

His jaw tightened, but he said nothing, his silence feeding her rage.

"You know why, Ares?" she pressed, stepping closer. "Because you finally found my weakness. My family. My daughter. And what did you do? You used it to your advantage, just like you always do, you selfish bastard!"

Ares took a step closer, his face hardening as he pointed at her. "You're wrong, Xena. You don't get to stand there and tell me how I feel. I love you. I always have."

She let out a sharp, bitter laugh, rolling her eyes as she turned her back on him. "Love? You're the god of war, Ares. You don't know the first thing about love."

His hand twitched at his side, the frustration simmering in his voice as he responded. "You think this is easy for me? You think I'd go through all of this for someone I don't love?"

She spun back to face him, her arms crossing over her chest. "Oh, please. You didn't go through anything, Ares. You struck a deal. That's not love. That's business."

"It wasn't business to me," he said firmly, his voice cracking slightly. "Do you think I've chased you all these years because I was bored? Because I had nothing better to do? You're not just some mortal I toy with, Xena. You're the only one who's ever mattered."

She scoffed again, shaking her head as she looked at him like he was a fool. "You don't love me, Ares. You love the idea of me. The warrior. The challenge. You love that you can't control me, and that drives you crazy. That's what this is about. Not me."

"No!" he barked, his voice rising as he took another step forward. "This isn't about control. It's never been about control with you. I love you, not because of the challenge, not because of the warrior, but because of who you are."

"And who am I, Ares?" she asked, her tone mocking. "Go ahead, tell me. Enlighten me."

"You're the only person who's ever made me want more than war," he said, his voice quieter now, more earnest. "You're strong, fierce, stubborn as hell, and you make me insane half the time, but I'd burn the whole world down if it meant keeping you safe."

Her expression flickered for a moment, something almost unreadable passing through her eyes, but she quickly hid it, shaking her head again. "You're good, Ares. I'll give you that. You almost sound convincing."

His hands clenched into fists, his frustration rising. "This isn't a game, Xena. This is me standing here, telling you the truth. And you're too damn scared to believe it."

"I'm not scared," she snapped, her voice sharp. "I'm realistic. And the truth is, you don't know how to love anyone but yourself."

Ares' face hardened, the sharpness in her tone slicing through him. He stepped closer, his voice low but filled with anger. "That's not true, and you know it. I've done everything for you, Xena. Everything. And you still stand there and act like I'm the villain."

She laughed bitterly, shaking her head. "Because you are, Ares. You've always been the villain. Don't stand there pretending you're some kind of hero because you helped me this one time."

"I didn't just help you," he countered, his eyes narrowing. "I saved you, Gabrielle, and Eve. I gave you everything you needed, and all you can do is spit in my face?"

"Save me?" she scoffed, her lip curling in disdain. "You didn't save me, Ares. You sent me straight to Tartarus." Her words hit like a hammer, the weight of them silencing him for a brief moment. His lips parted as if to respond, but she wasn't done.

"You want to talk about what I feel? Fine. Every thrust you took in me made my stomach churn. I had to fight the bile rising in my throat just to get through it."

Ares flinched, but she pressed on, her voice rising. "Every kiss you planted on my skin made me want to peel it off. Do you have any idea what it's like to feel that disgusted with yourself? To hate every second of what you're doing because you know you're only doing it to save the people you love?"

"I'll give you your damn child because I agreed to this stupid deal. But that's where it ends, Ares. You'll never see that baby. You'll never be part of its life. I will make sure of it." His jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides.

"You can't mean that."

"Oh, I mean every word," she hissed, her eyes blazing. "You wanted a legacy? Fine. But you'll get it without ever laying eyes on your precious heir."

"That's not how this works," he said, his voice rising as he stepped closer to her. "You don't get to cut me out, Xena. I'm the father."

"You're nothing," she spat, her voice trembling with rage. "You don't get to be a father, Ares. Not to my child." His frustration boiled over, his hand shooting out to grab her arm.

"You can't just take this away from me!" She ripped her arm free, her glare sharp enough to draw blood.

"Watch me."

He opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off, her words hitting like a whip. "You think I felt something for you? You think I wanted this? No, Ares. I endured it. I endured you. You're a parasite, feeding off people's desperation, twisting them until they have nothing left. And do you want to know the worst part? It's not even you I hate the most. It's me. Because for a moment, a tiny, stupid moment, I almost believed you. I almost let myself think you cared."

Ares' face hardened, his jaw clenched as her words sliced through him. "Xena—"

"No," she snapped, her voice shaking. "You don't get to talk. Not after what you've done. You don't love me, Ares. You love power, and you love winning. That's all this ever was to you—a win. And I'm just the fool who fell for it."

Ares moved towards her, his expression darkening. "You can't blame me for everything, Xena. You came to me. You made the deal."

She didn't even glance at him as she yanked her armor on, her movements sharp and angry. "And it's the worst decision I've ever made. Because now, I have to live with the fact that I let you win." His jaw tightened as his frustration rose.

"I didn't win, Xena. This isn't a game." She spun around, her glare cutting through him. "Oh, but it is, Ares. Everything with you is a game. And the prize? Me. You got me, didn't you? I hope it was worth it."

He tried to pull her into his arms but she pulled away, grabbing her sword and strapping it to her back. Her movements were stiff, her fury boiling over as she turned towards the door.

Without waiting for his response, she walked out of the room and into the cool night. The air hit her face, sharp and biting, but she welcomed it. She untied Argo from the post, mounting the horse easily. Her body moved automatically but her mind was a mess.

The steady rhythm of Argo's hooves did nothing to calm the chaos in her mind. The heat from the temple still lingered on her skin, a reminder of what had just happened that she couldn't shake.

Her grip on the reins tightened, her knuckles pale as her breathing quickened. What have I done? The question echoed in her mind over and over, leaving no space for anything else.

Her jaw tightened as guilt settled heavily in her chest. She had promised herself she wouldn't let Ares win. She had walked into that temple determined to keep her distance, to honor the deal but keep her soul intact. And yet… she had failed. Worse than failed—she had let herself fall into his hands, let herself feel something.

The thought made her stomach turn. Had it been real? Had any of it been real? Or had he manipulated her, twisted her emotions like he always did? Ares was a master at playing games, weaving webs of lies and half-truths to get what he wanted. She had spent years outsmarting him, resisting him. So why had she given in now?

Her chest heaved as her mind replayed the details of their lustful night, the memories too vivid to ignore. The way his hands had held her—not with dominance, but with care. The way his eyes had softened, dark and full of something she didn't dare name. She had seen him as she never had before, not just a god, but something… human.

And that was the worst part. It had felt real. Too real.

Her fingers tightened on the reins, her teeth grinding together as anger surged through her. "Damn you, Ares," she hissed under her breath. He had no right to make her feel this way. No right to confuse her, to make her question herself. She was supposed to be in control, but with him, control always slipped through her fingers like sand.

She hated that she couldn't stop thinking about how he had looked at her. That look—it was burned into her mind, haunting her. Vulnerable. Open. Like she was the only thing that mattered in the world to him. And for a brief moment, she had believed it. She had let herself believe it. She scoffed.

Her cheeks burned as she thought of another memory. The way her body had responded to his touch, the way she had surrendered to him so completely. Not because she had to, not because of the deal, but because in that moment, she had wanted to. Her heart raced, a sharp pang of shame cutting through her as she fought against the truth.

No. She shook her head, her hair whipping in the wind. It wasn't real. It couldn't be. This was Ares. He always had an angle, always a plan. He had manipulated her emotions, played on her vulnerabilities. That was the only explanation.

But… a small, unwelcomed voice whispered in the back of her mind, What if it wasn't a game?

Her jaw tightened. She didn't have time for this, didn't have time to unravel the mess of emotions that he had stirred in her. Gabrielle and Eve were waiting for her. They needed her strong, focused. She couldn't let Ares poison her mind any more than he already had.

But no matter how hard she tried to push him out, he lingered, his presence as persistent as the wind against her face. His voice echoed in her ears, low and rough, full of emotion she never thought he was capable of. "I never wanted this to be about power. Not with you. It's never been about that with you."

Her chest tightened, and she leaned forward in the saddle, urging Argo to go faster. The cool night air stung her eyes, but she welcomed it. She needed to feel something other than this chaos, this confusion. She needed to escape him, even if he wasn't there.

The farmhouse came into view, its warm glow piercing the darkened landscape. Xena reined in Argo, dismounting stiffly. Her body moved on instinct, her muscles aching from the ride, but her mind was far from here. The weight of what she'd done—what she'd allowed—pressed down on her like a stone.

She led Argo to the post by the side of the house and tied her off. For a moment, she lingered, her fingers gripping the reins tightly as if they were her lifeline. The familiar sight of the farmhouse should have brought her relief, but instead, it only deepened the knot in her chest.

The sound of the door creaking open broke through her thoughts. Gabrielle stepped outside and her face lit up the moment she saw her. "Xena!" she called out as she rushed to her. Behind her, Eve emerged from inside. Her expression was calmer, but her eyes carefully scanned Xena for any sign of injury.

Gabrielle threw her arms around her, holding her tightly. "You're back. Thank the gods."

Xena stiffened. Her body grew tense while her arms slowly came up to return the hug. The contact felt too close, too warm, and her chest tightened. "I said I'd be," she muttered, her voice low and rough.

Gabrielle pulled back, her hands lingering on Xena's arms as she searched her face. "Are you okay? What happened?"

Xena pulled out of her grip, stepping past her and into the house. "It's done," she said bluntly. "That's all that matters."

Gabrielle frowned, her brow creasing as she followed. "What does that mean? Did he—did Ares—?"

"Drop it, Gabrielle," Xena snapped, cutting her off. She winced inwardly as the words came out, harsher than she intended. She glanced briefly at Gabrielle's hurt expression but didn't offer any reassurance. She couldn't. Not now.

Eve walked to her. "Mother, we're glad you're safe."

Xena gave her a small nod, avoiding her gaze. "Thanks," she muttered, moving towards the hearth to take off her weapons and armor.

Gabrielle and Eve exchanged a glance, their relief tempered by the tension radiating off her.

Gabrielle watched Xena carefully, her brows creased in concern as the warrior began removing her weapons. The sword hit the table with a thud, followed by her gauntlets. Xena's jaw tightened while she unbuckled the straps of her armor. Her shoulders remained stiff with tension.

"You must be starving," Gabrielle said, her voice bright, as though trying to cut through the heavy air in the room. "I can heat something up for you. We still have bread and stew left."

"I'm fine," Xena said shortly, not looking up.

Gabrielle paced by the table, wringing her hands as she glanced at Eve. "Maybe just some water, then. Or—"

"Gabrielle." Xena's voice cut through the room. She placed her breastplate on the table with unnecessary force. Her hands gripped the edges for a moment before she stood back up.

"I said I'm fine." Gabrielle flinched at the sharpness of her tone but quickly hid it with a nod. "Okay," she said softly, stepping back. "I'll stop fussing."

Eve stepped closer to Xena. "Mother," she said quietly, her gaze steady. "You should rest. You've been through a lot." Xena exhaled sharply, her fingers twitching as she flexed her hands.

"I don't need rest," she muttered, though Eve could hear how tired she was. She grabbed the cup of water Gabrielle had set on the table and downed it all in one go. Gabrielle watched her closely, her lips pressed together with worry.

"If you change your mind—"

"I won't," Xena interrupted, her tone short. She turned towards the hearth and crouched to adjust the logs. The warmth of the fire brushed against her skin, but it felt distant, like it belonged to someone else's home. Eve placed a hand on Gabrielle's shoulder, giving her a small shake of the head as if to say, Let her be.

Gabrielle hesitated but nodded, stepping back into the kitchen. The room was silent, except for the crackling of the fire and the faint rustle of Xena's movements. She sat on the edge of the chair near the hearth, her shoulders slumping slightly as the weight she'd been carrying all evening began to press harder.

Eve lingered for a moment before walking to her mother. "I'll bring some blankets down for you," she said gently.

"I'm not sleeping down here." Xena replied. Eve nodded, not pressing further, and disappeared up the stairs. Gabrielle busied herself in the kitchen, the clatter of dishes breaking the quietness. Xena stared into the flames, her expression unreadable as her thoughts churned.

The farmhouse had gone quiet. The fire burned low now. Xena stood by the window with her arms crossed tightly over her chest. The cool night air seeped through the wooden frame, brushing against her skin, but it did little to calm the storm inside her.

Her reflection in the glass stared back at her, unflinching. She looked the same—every muscle, every scar—but the woman she saw felt like a stranger. What have I done? The question gnawed at her, over and over, refusing to let her go.

Gabrielle appeared in the doorway. She paused before crossing the room and moved carefully, as if she didn't want to startle her.

"You couldn't sleep?" she asked, her voice gentle. Xena didn't turn to look at her, her gaze fixed outside.

"No," she said shortly. Gabrielle lingered for a moment, her fingers toying with the edge of her sleeve.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked carefully.

"No," Xena said again, her tone hard. Gabrielle frowned but didn't back away.

"Xena… what happened in that temple? What did he do to you?" Xena's body stiffened, her grip on her arms tightening. Gabrielle's words sliced through her, pulling her back to the firelight of the temple, the heat of Ares' hands, his voice— rough and unguarded as he whispered while their bodies melted together, "I love you, Xena. I've always loved you."

Her stomach twisted, and her breathing grew shallow as the memories clawed their way to the surface. She could still feel the way he had felt inside her—how every movement seemed to claim her, leaving her breathless and wanting, as though she was the only one who could ever satisfy him. It was too much. The guilt, the anger, the confusion. It was too much.

"I can't," Xena said finally, her voice low and trembling. She shook her head, refusing to meet Gabrielle's gaze. "I can't talk about it."

Gabrielle stepped closer, her concern burned into every line of her face. "Xena, I'm not asking to pry. I'm asking because I care. Whatever it is, you don't have to carry it alone."

Xena turned sharply, her eyes flashing. "You think you can fix this?" she snapped, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions. "You think if I just say it out loud, it'll go away? You don't want to know, Gabrielle."

Gabrielle flinched but didn't back down. Her voice softened. "Maybe I don't," she admitted. "But I want to help."

"You can't," Xena said, her voice quieter now, though no less pained. She turned back to the window, her jaw tightening as she forced the memories down again. "I can't even help myself." A single tear ran down her cheek.

The room fell into silence, the tension thick and suffocating. Gabrielle stood there for a moment, worried, but she finally nodded. "Okay," she said softly. "Okay, Xena. I won't push."

Xena didn't look at her. Her shoulders slumped slightly as she stared out into the night, the fire in the hearth burning lower and lower. "Thanks," she muttered, though the word felt hollow in her chest. Gabrielle walked away, leaving Xena alone with her thoughts.

The temple was quiet now, the previously burning fire reduced to embers. Ares sat on the edge of his throne, his elbows resting on his knees, his fingers resting under his chin. He stared into the dying flames, his jaw tight, his mind a mess.

She felt nothing.

Her words echoed in his head, sharp and irritating. Just like in that damn temple, she wanted to lie AGAIN! He exhaled slowly, his breath shuddering as he leaned back, running a hand through his hair. Xena had always known how to cut deep, but this… this had been something else.

She knew what they had done. She knew it hadn't been meaningless. Every look, every touch, every kiss—they had all been real, raw, unguarded. She couldn't deny that. And yet, she had.

"She felt nothing," he muttered bitterly, his fingers curling into fists. "Damn her."

He stood abruptly, pacing the length of the room. The weight of her words pressed against his chest. She was lying—he knew it, felt it. He'd seen it in her eyes, in the way her body had responded to his, in the way she had let herself fall into him. But Xena was nothing if not stubborn. She would rather choke on her pride than admit the truth.

"She always twists my words," he said to no one, his voice low and bitter. "Always finds a way to turn them against me, to make me the villain. Even when we both know…"

He stopped, his shoulders tense as he clenched his jaw. Even when we both know this wasn't about the deal. It hadn't been about power, or strategy, or legacy. Not for him. Not this time. It had been about her. About them. About something he had never been willing to admit, not fully, until now.

"I love you, Xena." The words had come so easily in the moment, and he'd meant every one of them. For decades, he'd whispered them in his mind, in the quiet corners of his heart, but saying them out loud—he'd thought it would change something. He thought she'd see him, truly see him, for who he was.

Instead, she'd walked away.

Again.

Ares blew out a breath, shaking his head as a bitter laugh escaped him. "Of course she did. That's what she does."

He turned back to the fire, his eyes narrowing. Xena had always infuriated him, always pushed him to the edge of his patience, but this time… this time was different. This time, she hadn't just denied him—she'd denied herself. She felt something. He knew she had. But instead of facing it, she'd run, hiding behind the same walls she always built to keep him out.

"Fine," he said, his voice hardening as he straightened. "If she wants to act like this is just a deal, then so be it."

The flames in the hearth flickered, casting long shadows across the room as he clenched his fists. She had made her choice, but so had he. The deal wasn't just about one night—it was about them. She was his now, whether she wanted to admit it or not.

"She wants to play games?" he muttered, his eyes flashing. "Let's see how long she can keep pretending."

With a slow breath, Ares rolled his shoulders, his determination solidifying like steel. She was his, and he wasn't going to let her slip away again. Not this time. Not ever. The other part of their deal was just beginning, and he intended to claim what was his. A sharp laugh escaped his lips. The sheer absurdity of it—Xena thinking she could keep his child away from him—was almost amusing. Almost.

"She really thinks she can shut me out," he muttered, shaking his head. His smirk faded, replaced by a flicker of something darker. "My child. The God of War's child. And she thinks I won't be part of its life?" He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, staring into the fire.

"She can fight me all she wants. Pretend I don't matter. But she knows. Deep down, she knows." Standing to his full height, Ares' expression grew cold, determined.

"You wanted this, Xena," he said quietly, the firelight reflecting in his dark eyes. "And now you're going to have it. You and that child are mine. And I'll be damned if I let you forget it." With a flick of his wrist, the flames in the hearth roared to life, brighter than ever. In the next instant, he was gone.