Chosen

When Gabrielle woke in the night, she heard Xena crying, and went to comfort her.

Xena, sitting on a stone outcrop, was trying to soften her sobs by cramming a fist in her mouth, but the violence of her own cries shook her. Now and again she stared up at the star-filled sky, hurt bringing fresh tears to her eyes. Gabrielle moved over to her friend and threw her arms around her, holding her tight, as though she were rescuing her from drowning.

For a long while they sat there together, mingling tears. They had lost their baby girl, even though they had just regained a daughter. But Ares had taken fourteen years of the child away from them, years that could never be regained. Only time was such a thief.

“My breasts hurt.” Xena finally mumbled, wiping a hand across her face. She stood up gingerly, because her breasts were still swollen with milk, were aching because only a fortnight before she’d been feeding her baby. The child who had been snatched from her.

Gabrielle went to her saddlebag and grabbed a couple of cabbage leaves which she’d bought when they had passed through a village. The old remedy had come in handy when she, too, had had to stop feeding a baby. The cool leaves eased some of the throbbing; though it was heart-ache that kept them awake.

“The worst of it is – “ Xena began with a sob in her throat, “no, not the worst of it, but – I was beginning to trust him. He had left us alone for so long. He even swore he – he loved me. And then he pulls this!” Anger began to work in her again, drying her tears. “Not just on me, not just on you, but on Eve! I can’t begin to imagine what he’s done to her –“

Sobs overcame her again, and she sat silent for a while, all the hurt and pain evident in her eyes while she stared up at the skies. Gabrielle leant her golden head on her friend’s shoulder, wishing she could ease the pain, knowing that it was impossible.

“I don’t even know the truth anymore, whether he really is her father. But now – that doesn’t matter. Eve believes he is, has trusted him as her father her whole life! We can’t malign him in front of her – he’s the only family she’s known - “

“And now she’s in pain herself, wondering why he suddenly abandoned her – the bastard!” Gabrielle added with venom, bitter in the knowledge that they’d been happy, so happy before Ares had ruined everything.

Then suddenly Xena’s voice changed.

“But oh – isn’t she a wonder?” And just so quickly her voice was suffused with joy. “She’s so lovely, isn’t she, Gabrielle? Her lithe movements, and the way she listens; and when she laughed today –“

And they both laughed, remembering.

Eve had learned a lot about swordplay and battle tactics from her father, but there was much she’d never been taught. She’d never bought anything in the marketplace, didn’t know what to do with a coin. Gabrielle had decided to spend the day teaching her the finer arts of shopping - `though Xena has never learned how to bargain’ – and Eve complied, curiosity overcoming her natural reticence.

Firstly she’d watched in astonishment as Gabrielle managed to beat down the price of a travelling blanket from ten dinars to five. She’d stared open-mouthed as the cost of a frying pan went from eight dinars to three. But she had to burst into laughter as Gabrielle returned triumphantly bearing a battered pot for a single dinar.

“Whatever will you do with that?” She’d spluttered, as Gabrielle brandished the pot jubilantly. “I think he bested you there!”

There was so much more Eve knew nothing about. She was thin, because Ares never needed food and had frequently forgotten that Eve did. She’d never cooked, never known how it took a season of sowing and tender care before food could be harvested. She knew nothing about the cycle of life, of birth – of death. Her only companion had been her father, and so she knew nothing about friendship.

Ares had taught her about play, though – had spent her toddler and childhood days in games, with laughter, with fun. Xena forgave him much for giving Eve those days of joy. She could imagine he would enjoy the loud wrestling games a father plays with his child. And she envied him them.

Eve knew nothing about stories, and believed implicitly all the old tales which Gabrielle told at night, until it was explained to her that the truth lay in their ideas, rather than their history. She knew nothing of the inner resources which a person draws upon in times of loneliness or pain – the imagination, which supplies hope and supports faith.

“We can teach her what she needs, Xena.” Gabrielle reassured Xena. “She’ll learn from us all she needs to know. And it’ll be a great joy to teach her. There’s so much good out there, so much love that she knows nothing of yet –“

Xena leapt up from her stone seat and whirled around, an instant before Ares materialised.

“You think she knows nothing about love?” Ares voiced sarcastically, though Xena could hear his underlying anger. “You think I denied my own daughter love?”

Gabrielle stepped back. There were very few times she was actually frightened of the god of war, but this was one of them.

“There are many kinds of love, Ares . . .” She began.

“Get out of here, interloper! Leave us! Eve is our daughter, she’s nothing to you!”

Xena’s lip curled at that, and she drew her sword out from her back.

“Gabrielle has spent as much time with our daughter as I – and she knows more about love than you could ever imagine. I don’t know how you dare speak about something of which you have no understanding –“

“Don’t tell me I don’t love my daughter!” Ares shouted, moving forward.

“Then how could you abandon her?” Xena threw back.

The tension in the air was almost visible, as the pair faced off, eye to eye, inches apart. Xena’s chin was up, Ares’ demeanour furious. Yet they were still, and Gabrielle watched the pair without disturbing the moment with a sigh.

Then it was over. Ares’ body relaxed, he moved back and groaned, while Xena let her sword drop.

“What would you have me do?” Ares asked softly, dropping onto the boulder.

Xena sat beside him, sheathing her sword. “You have to be part of her life, now, even though I wish you and your corrupting influence were imprisoned in Tartarus for eternity. She believes you are her father. For some reason, she actually believes I am her mother,”

“I told her.”

Xena turned to him, a watchful expression on her face. “What?”

“I told her about you, talked to her right from – right from the first day.” Ares looked away, brushed his hand over the hilt of his sword. “I told her that you were the greatest warrior the world had known, that you changed the world. I told her we created a child –“

“Liar.” Xena hissed. “You never came near enough to place a child within me. I don’t know why you persist . . .”

“I told her I loved you.” He glanced back at Xena. “She knows you are her mother, and she longed to meet you.” He looked over his shoulder at Gabrielle. “You might’ve come up once or twice too, can’t remember.”

“Thanks.” Gabrielle replied sarcastically.

But Xena was silent. Finally she got up, moved away from Ares.

“She’s sleeping in Mother’s house, now – come and see her tomorrow. I don’t mind – I mean, I want you to come and see her, talk to her, frequently. But –“

And then she leapt forward, grabbed Ares by the throat, stared into his eyes.

“If you dare to corrupt her, dare to lure darkness before her, I’ll forget any decency I imagined in you, and I’ll come after you in every evil way you can imagine. I’ll kill you, first, and then I’ll destroy every temple constructed in your name, until not even the memory of you remains. There’ll be no trace of you left . . . .”

Ares disappeared from her grasp, the air shimmering in his wake. Cursing, Xena sat back down, burying her head in her arms.

Chapter One

“What is this!”

Xena had never heard such a cry from her daughter. It was a furious roar of affront, a cry of anger underlaid with hurt.

She moved in from the doorway of her mother’s tavern and saw Gabrielle’s scrolls scattered over the wide wooden table. Eve stood in front of them, brandishing one of them, breathing heavily with rage.

“Lies! You told me stories held a truth, how could you write such lies!”

Eve was nearly in tears, and so was Gabrielle, who had come downstairs at a run. She threw an anguished look at Xena.

“I’d only given her a few, she must have taken the rest from my room – I didn’t mean to show her those –“

Those referred to the scrolls about Ares. She had with her usual sensitivity, Xena realised, culled from Eve’s reading any reference to Ares and the hurt he’d caused them. But Eve was an eager reader, and had grabbed whatever scroll she could that rainy afternoon.

Xena moved over to Eve and laid a gentle arm on her. Eve threw it off, and stepped back.

“What is this!” She repeated indignantly. “Here – look, you say Ares framed you for murder! And here he nearly bound you in Tartarus instead of Callisto, that killer!”

“Eve –“ Gabrielle began, but Xena motioned her to silence.

“Go on, Eve.” Xena instructed quietly.

Now tears appeared unbidden. “You say he tried to kill you again and again! Bringing the evil of Dahak into the world – sending the Furies to haunt you! Teaming up with your enemies, even pretending to be your father! How could you write such lies?” Now she was sobbing, and Xena’s heart wrenched.

“They aren’t lies, Eve.” Gabrielle said wretchedly. “All those things are true! Ares has tried to get your mother to return her allegiance to him again and again, through the most terrible schemes.”

“Don’t say such things!” Eve near screamed. “Don’t!” She tried to run out of the room, but Xena restrained her.

“And what other scrolls have you read, Eve?” Xena questioned her harshly. “Have you read of my own past, of how I destroyed Cirra and a young girl’s mind with it? How Gabrielle betrayed me, leading to the death of your brother? What else have you read?”

Eve only sobbed in reply, and now Xena held her close.

“We’ve all done terrible things, my love – not one of us has a clear conscience, have things we don’t regret. All of us have fallen astray, and all of us can change.”

Eve wiped her eyes, but her mouth was firmly downturned. “I didn’t want to believe such things – not of you, not of papa –“

“Believe them – but believe that we are different, now.” And Xena hoped, so much, that Ares was listening and could hear her unspoken plea to him. “We have the opportunity every morning to turn away from our past and make a change for better.”

Now all three were in a huddle, with tears, and regrets, and apologies. Xena looked over her daughter’s head at Gabrielle and smiled into her eyes, a smile of trust, and forgiveness. Gabrielle smiled back. They three were back together, despite Ares’ interference. That was all that mattered.

Later that evening Gabrielle found Xena outside of the town gates, staring out at the hills, staring out at the sky.

“I’m sorry I left the scrolls where she could find them –“ Gabrielle began, but Xena shook her head, and pulled her down beside her.

“I’m glad. I didn’t want her to hear a garbled version of it all from anyone else, and your scrolls would have made it clear. She needed to know.” Then she looked over at her. “I’m sorry I had to bring up – I mean –“

Gabrielle squeezed her hand. “I’m glad you did. Like you say, there’s not one of us without a regret – it’s good that she knows that.”

“Ares is with her now.” Xena mentioned, looking over at the lit window of her mother’s tavern. “I hope he – I hope he handles it all.” She laughed, a little bitterly. “His version of events usually differs quite a bit from our own.”

“Aren’t you frightened –“ Gabrielle began, and Xena nodded.

“Terrified.” She admitted ruefully. “Imagine, I have to trust Ares with my own daughter! But – there is something in him – I’ve seen, occasionally, some trustworthiness within him.”

And she remembered the time where she’d had to trust Ares to return her body, when she’d been trapped within that of her deadly enemy. Oh, she’d been curt about what it meant – my body doesn’t make me who I am, my deeds do – but she’d been glad, glad, when she saw her own hands forming before her, recognised her own face in the changing waters of the sea. There’d been other times, too, when she’d had to trust him, and he had come through. There was something of worth within him – that, she would never deny.

Gabrielle stayed awhile on that old rock outside the walls of Amphipolis, after Xena returned. Everything was changing; and she’d been wrong before, when she thought it was just like it had been, before Ares interfered. Maybe, Gabrielle thought, Ares had finally hit upon the one way to Xena’s heart – through her child.

She sat resting her chin upon her hands, her knees tucked up underneath her. It was frightening to see that Xena hoped for change even within a god. But it was also wonderful. Long ago it had been Gabrielle who had stopped Xena from the wilder of her actions. Now – Xena was learning to see the good in people – even, Gabrielle smiled a little cynically to herself, even when it was hidden from her own eyes.

There was nothing about Ares that attracted Gabrielle, not his looks, not his mystery, not his darkness. It had been Perdicus’ humanity and candour that had occupied her attention, had engaged her interest. There was nothing human, and, it seemed to her, nothing honest about Ares. But – it would not be the first time Xena’s interests differed from her own.

Finally the evening chill roused Gabrielle from her icy seat. She stood up, looking up at the myriad of stars that made up the night sky.

“Anyway,” she said out loud, “ it doesn’t matter to me. We’re together, forever – no matter what.”

Chapter Two

Xena never found out exactly what Eve and Ares spoke about – she had too much integrity to listen in on such a conversation – but she knew that somehow Eve was a lot happier.

Less likely to run off with her quick sword and try to change the world to fit her better, as she’d done when not that much older than Eve. That was what had been worrying Xena, had been keeping her awake night after night. Yes, she was grieving for the loss of her baby Eve – but she was also grieving in advance for an imagined loss. If Ares had corrupted her – if she’d run off, begun some serious destruction – it would have completed the theft.

Somehow, for some reason, Ares hadn’t done that.

He was one man whom Xena couldn’t sum up. One person who was so different, alarmingly difficult to comprehend, to figure out. He was a god, certainly, but most of the gods’ whims were so transparent, they were caricatures compared with humans. Ares was stubborn, sure, and she could understand tenacity. He liked things the way he liked them, and grew angry when that changed. He’d make these heavy-handed decisions, but then follow them up with an act of such sweetness . . .

Why did he pretend Eve was his daughter? Xena couldn’t understand it. Why did he offer her his love? What did it mean? The questions circled, and while parts of her were so furious at the torment he’d caused in her life, deep inside she was just so grateful to him for restoring her daughter’s calm. For honouring her that much.

“Xena!”

With years of enforced habit, Xena leapt up at the word, hand on her chakram at her side.

“Oh – Mother.” She said, smiling as Cyrene burst through the doorway. “Need some help in the kitchen again?”

But her smile faded as she saw her mother’s face. She was gasping for breath, gasping for the right words.

“What is it? Mother? What has happened?” Xena asked, her voice rough with anxiety. She followed Cyrene down the steps to the floor of the tavern, and then stared.

Oh, she knew who it was, she’d met her long ago. The only woman who stood as tall as she, with her chin raised in pride.

“Athena.”

“Xena.”

She stepped forward and extended her hand. Unlike the rest of the bunch, Athena was a goddess she had always respected. A goddess of wisdom, who knew enough to let people alone, most of the time.

“She says –“ Cyrene burst out, half-breathless, “she says, she wants Eve.”

Her hand dropped.

Nothing on her face changed, except that her eyes narrowed slightly, and, perhaps, her mouth hardened.

“What for?”

“What – Xena!” Cyrene cried.

Athena’s wary face broke into a smile. “I never thought you’d changed as much as my brother claimed.” She said smugly. “After all, I am the goddess of wisdom – and warfare –“ She added, with a note of warning.

“Don’t forget weaving.” Xena put in sarcastically.

Athena stiffened visibly.

“Again – what for? A servant, a lackey, a girlfriend? You want to tutor her in the latest tapestry styles? Sorry, she’s had enough training from the gods!”

“Oh – yes, I’d heard Ares had taken her under his wing.” Athena laughed. “Rather ironic, no?”

“Answer me!”

A small horrible smile crossed Athena’s face.

“To punish her.”

At that, both Gabrielle and Eve burst in the front door. They stared at the godly visitor, and Xena standing before her, hand on her chakram. Gabrielle pulled Eve back, moving in front of her, but Eve shook off her arm impatiently, and watched her intently.

“What has she done?” Xena asked quietly.

“There is one thing abhorrent to a god – one thing a goddess like myself will never allow. Oh, we don’t get involved in your petty disputes, in your adulteries and your murders! But I detest and loathe hubris, and I will never tolerate it – especially in a child Ares claims as his own!”

“Eve – hubris?” Gabrielle stepped forward, her sais resting comfortably in her hands. “And you are the goddess of wisdom? What has Eve ever claimed that could belong to you? Besting you at your cross-stitch? At a meeting of the minds?”

“Oh, no.” Athena smiled horribly again. “But you forget – it is not just weaving and wisdom at which I excel.” She threw a fireball suddenly towards Gabrielle, who leapt sideways, inches from its path. “It’s also warfare.”

Xena ran towards Athena, uttering her ululation and holding her chakram to the goddess’ throat.

“Oh, I know I can’t kill you.” Xena growled. “But I sure can make you hurt!”

With that she drew her sword, just as Athena put her hand on her own hilt. Xena swung her own blade towards the goddess, who blocked her at every turn. Around the small area of the tavern they sparred, barely landing a blow, barely reaching each other, so deftly did they move. Then Xena threw her sword to the ground and instead landed a punch, throwing Athena to the ground, moving her off guard.

Xena moved back, and watched as the goddess rose, shimmering with anger. Before she could scarcely blink, the goddess had her dagger in her hand, and had cut Xena across her right arm.

“I marked you before you even saw me.” Athena snarled. “And yet your daughter dared claim she could best me in battle!”

“I hit you first.” Xena replied, with a blank face.

Fire rose up, and within it Athena disappeared.

“Oh, Xena!”

Cyrene fell forward, but Xena caught her before she crumpled to the ground.

 “Don’t tell me I have to lose another grandchild!”

Chapter Three

“You – you didn’t, Eve!”

“I didn’t know any better!” The girl answered petulantly.

Gabrielle paced up and down outside Cyrene’s room, while Xena tended her inside.

“Surely Ares mentioned how the gods feel about mortals who brag? What possessed you to say you could best Athena in battle!”

Then, as she saw Eve’s stricken face, she relented, and held the girl in her arms.

“Ahh, we’ve all done it, child – spoken too big, regretted it later. Unfortunately, Athena probably holds a grudge against Xena, or Ares, or both, and wants to use you to pay one of them back.” Gabrielle smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry, we’ve been in worse scrapes.”

A pretty pink cloud formed in the corridor and from that Aphrodite appeared.

“Guess it’s time I paid a call on the little babe!” She burbled happily. “Well, she’s got her mother’s looks – thank goodness – probably do as well as Xena with her conquests –“ She stopped, at a look on Gabrielle’s face, “ I mean conquests of hearts, my dear, of course.”

“Uh – you are –“

“This is Aphrodite, Eve.” Gabrielle explained, then looked worried. “You haven’t – er – made any wild claims in her directions, have you?”

“No –“ Eve replied sulkily, then stomped downstairs.

“Oops.” Gabrielle muttered. “I wasn’t like that – was I?”

“At fifteen? They’re all the same. Why, when Cupid got into moods . . .” Aphrodite paused. “Of course, I had warned him never to boast in the hearing of another god . . .”

“Well, can you expect Ares to have taught Eve her life lessons?” Gabrielle demanded. “Now we really are in trouble. Our only hope is that Ares will promise to fight Athena in Eve’s stead. But knowing him, he’ll . . .”

“Not that you do, of course.” Ares materialised, enjoying Gabrielle’s leap of fright.

“What is this – Mt Olympus’ favourite bar?”

“Don’t worry about Athena.” Ares counselled. “She’s just sore that I beat her at a wager over – er – Babylonia. She’ll forget about pursuing Eve once I let her win at – uh -  Egypt. An Egypt’s worth Assyria, isn’t it, Sis?”

Aphrodite rolled her eyes. “War games, boring! Listen, Gabrielle, remind Eve about her split ends, will you? Later . . . “

Eve yelled up from the lower floor. “I do not have split ends!”

Aphrodite shrugged, grinned - “Not now you don’t” -  and disappeared.

Gabrielle slumped down on the floor.

“Not going someplace, too, Ares?” Gabrielle suggested hopefully. “Like – someplace to make it up with Athena, already? She’s not happy – cut Xena on her arm, not happy at all . . . “

“What?” Ares looked stricken. “What did you say?”

“Athena isn’t happy –“

“She cut Xena – how could Xena let her –“

“Hey, Xena’s been hurt worse than that in her time.” Gabrielle said, frowning.

Ares ignored her, and pushed his way into Cyrene’s room instead. Xena looked up from Cyrene’s bed, scowling.

“I told you to stay – oh, it’s you. Well, get out. Mother needs a rest – she’s had a shock.”

“You fool, Xena!” Ares uttered. “How could you let Athena cut you?”

He grabbed Xena’s arm roughly, peering at the oozing wound. Xena shook him off, frowning.

“Like you’ve never given me worse than that?” She glared, and then pushed him out to the hallway, after ensuring Cyrene was asleep. Looking down the stairwell, she saw Gabrielle replaiting Eve’s hair, which seemed a little shorter somehow.

“Athena isn’t just a trumped up seamstress, Xena.” Ares said seriously. “She’s also the goddess of healing – know what I mean?”

Xena blanched.

“That’s it – I’m going to Athena to sort this out.” Ares muttered, striding up and down the narrow hallway. “Let her have Babylonia, who wants it anyway?”

But Xena had recovered. “Why, Ares, I didn’t know you cared.” She returned sarcastically. “Don’t expect me to rely on any favours from you. I’ll handle this my own way.”

“Right.” Ares argued, looking more than a little hurt. “So you’re – what? Going to challenge her to a battle, to prove – er – that you are actually mortal and can be killed, while she can’t? Great battle tactics.”

“There’s always the dagger of Helios.” Xena offered, more slowly.

“It’s not just down the road – you’d bleed to death before you found it.” Ares retorted. “Come on, accept my help for once! You never know, you might just enjoy it.”

He moved forward, and grabbed her hands. Xena looked carefully into his eyes. There was sincerity there, for sure, but also the underlying selfish cunning which never seemed to leave him. It was deliciously mesmerising within those melting brown eyes, and somewhere underneath Xena found herself thinking that if that sly self-centredness ever left him, there would be something to love after all.

“What do you want?” She asked simply, pulling back.

“What I’ve always wanted. You. No, forget the Queen of the World bit, that frightens even me now.” Ares added, and watched Xena bite back a small smile. “No, just you.”

He pulled her close again.

“OK, so we never made a child together, and Eve came out of nowhere. But that gives us somewhere to start . . . make a child with me, Xena.”

In a movement, Xena pushed him away, her lip curled.

“So now you admit it, you bastard? You’ve been playing with me ever since the babe quickened within me? What for?” Her voice raised with anger, fury overtaking her. “How could you take her from me when she wasn’t yours!”

“Because I wanted her to be, dammit!” Ares shouted back. “I wanted Eve to be mine so much I nearly believed it myself!”

Suddenly there was a great silence. The pair turned simultaneously, looking awkwardly downstairs to Eve and Gabrielle below.

With a sob, Eve pushed Gabrielle away and ran out the door.

Both Xena and Ares made a move, but Gabrielle stopped them.

“Leave her. Calm down, both of you.” She commanded, anger colouring her own voice. “She didn’t need to find out like that and she doesn’t need either of you, not now.”

With that, Gabrielle followed Eve outside.

Xena turned back to Ares, a rueful look on her face.

“I near believed you, too, so what kind of fool does that make me?” She uttered softly. “Just – go. Get lost. Let me think.”

Ares made to move forward, to touch her once more, but reconsidered. Finally he shrugged and disappeared.

Xena slumped down on the floor, her head resting against the wood of the stair-rail. She rubbed a free hand thoughtfully over her arm, and winced. Funny, it reminded her of when Prometheus’ gifts had been taken from man – when she and Hercules had had to work together, each believing they had to die – somehow it had seemed a lot easier to face, then . . .

For Hercules, it would probably be just as easy, six years on. But, oh, she had so much more to live for now! Back then she had scarcely cared for a soul, and death had always seemed as like a friend as not. Now, though, she knew true friendship, knew the agony of loss. No way she’d wish that onto Gabrielle, or Eve.

Grimacing, she got up and moved downstairs, over to the window. Eve and Gabrielle were together, the two innocents in this ridiculous mess. Xena felt a small smile come over her, despite their predicament. What would she ever have done without Gabrielle – how would she have raised Eve without her steady presence?

Xena moved over to the pair and put her arms around them both.

“Why?” Eve asked finally, in a voice made hoarse with tears.

Xena sighed. “I have no idea why Ares does what he does.”

“But – he did love you, Eve.” Gabrielle said surprisingly. “Even if he isn’t your father, he certainly acted like it.”

“By stealing me?” Eve asked incredulously.

“Well, he kind of acted like it.” Gabrielle amended. “What I mean is that – his love was real, even if the reason was a lie.”

Xena was surprised Gabrielle of all people was defending Ares, though she realised it was to ease Eve, rather than to support the god.

“If that was a lie – then what else is?” Eve asked suddenly, pushing the pair away. “How do I know that you are my mother? How do I know that either of you are anything to me, at all?”

Xena stiffened, terrified the girl would be plunged into despair. She didn’t know what to say, didn’t have the words . . .

Then Gabrielle stepped forward and held both of the girl’s hands firmly.

“When you came from your mother’s body, when I caught you, I didn’t know you – yet I loved you. You became a part of us, you are our family.” Gabrielle spoke quietly, and Xena too was soothed by her words. “You have Xena’s blood flowing through you. You have months of our songs, our stories. I held you in your first hours, and blessed you; you were given the Amazon rites in your first months of life. You belong.”

And with that, she drew the girl up, so she was face to face with Xena. Blue, frightened eyes, met another pair just as piercing; dark waves of hair framed similar faces.

Awkwardly, Xena moved a hand forward, brushed aside a wing of hair from the girl’s face.

“I woke up from death to find you alive in me. I held you under my heart for nine months of joy . . . and held you in my arms for a further nine months of such happiness. You were my whole world, just taken from me, and my heart grieves so much that I never saw you walk, or say your first word – that Gabrielle and I never saw you as a little girl. Oh, but you can’t imagine how glad we are to have found you at last!”

And in that instant they were back in one another’s arms, and Eve never doubted again. She belonged there, with those women, and that was her home, and they were her family.

Chapter Four

“You’re packing?”

Xena turned from Argo and faced her mother.

“I think it’s best if we move on.”

“You can’t hope to hide from Athena.” Cyrene stated, moving to take the loaded saddlebag from Xena’s arms.

“Mother . . .” Xena sighed. “What can I say? I’ve brought enough, more than enough trouble to Amphipolis in my time. Do you think I want her to destroy it, because of some wager with Ares?”

Cyrene dropped the bags on the straw, and took her daughter in her arms.  Xena rested her head on her mother’s shoulder, wishing it were as easy to forget her fears as it had been as a child.

“I never knew my grandson – never knew Solon.” She said, her voice muffled. “And I’ve barely had time to really know Eve – I don’t want to lose her, either of you –“

“You won’t.” And Xena looked at Cyrene, hard, sure. “Athena can’t win this. You have to believe that.”

Gabrielle appeared, scrolls piled up in her arms. “I’m thinking of turning your tavern into a library.” She grinned. “I think we’d need a mule to carry this load –“

“Be my guest.” Cyrene wiped away a stray tear and took a pile. “We could offer Friday night entertainment – call it happy hour, or something.”

“As long as I get to censor what you tell. There really are a few tales not suitable for the general public.” Xena warned, tucking away the poem revealing the truth of Antony and Cleopatra. “And there’s a few we should bring along for the ride.”

Her arm was throbbing. Obviously Ares hadn’t managed to placate Athena, if he’d even tried. Of course, there was always the option of giving in to his demands . . .

Xena hid a grin. Gabrielle would die if she knew what she was thinking . . .

“I wouldn’t count on him keeping his end of the bargain.”

“What!” Xena blushed red, and stared at Gabrielle.

“You think I can’t tell when you’re thinking about him by now? And if he said he’d get Athena off our back, I wouldn’t count on it. When has he ever come through for us?”

Xena shrugged. She would never seriously consider it, of course. Getting any help from a god, especially someone like Ares, was extremely dangerous. It meant payback, sometime later, and that was usually very unpleasant.

“Ready, Eve?” She asked, as they stacked up the scrolls in the corner of the tavern. “We’d best be off before the sun reaches its zenith.”

“I’ll miss you, Grandmother.” Eve said seriously, then threw her arms around Cyrene. That left her in tears, of course, so the three rode from town rather soberly.

They headed for Potidea – Gabrielle heard her sister was to be married soon – but Xena decided to take it slow. She needed time to formulate a plan, and when that took place, she didn’t want to be anywhere near innocent people who could easily be caught in the crossfire. On the other hand, if her arm failed her, and the pair needed family nearby . . .

That night, they made camp by the creek and she watched over her friend, her daughter, while they slept. Her arm was aching, and her mind racing too much for her to find solace in sleep. Instead she pored over a couple of Gabrielle’s scrolls which she’d brought along. How to outwit a god – that’s what it was about. She’d done it before; and it could be done again, if need be.

Xena drew out an old tattered scroll from the bottom of the leather pouch. The writing was used rounded, childish characters, unmistakably Gabrielle, but perhaps a much younger girl. It was a retelling of the fall of Paris.

There’d been three goddesses involved; Aphrodite, Hera, Athena.

There’d been a single prize – an apple, inscribed with the most basic of awards `To the Fairest’.

And there’d been a single mortal who’d been foolish enough to act as arbitrator, ensuring that at least two goddesses would be against him for the rest of his life.

Aphrodite had won, and rewarded him with the most beautiful woman in the world – and a war which destroyed him. Athena and Hera had given strength to his enemies, and the foolish man had died horribly ten years after the heavenly contest, with the great city, Troy, ruined by his own hand.

“That’s the gods for you.” Xena murmured. “Even when you win, you lose.”

“Think Paris regretted Helen, though?” Ares spoke through the darkness, and then materialised beside her. “Doubt it.”

Xena indicated the sleeping pair and moved into the shadows.

“I think he would rather ten years of bliss than a thousand years never knowing –“ Ares went on. “Hey!”

Xena had elbowed him, hard.

“You won’t know anything about bliss until you do something about Athena. I thought you were going to offer her Egypt?”

“She didn’t want it.” Ares replied sulkily. “Somehow I don’t even think she’s keen on Mesopotamia.”

Xena sighed. “What’s this really all about, Ares? I doubt she’s actually threatened by the empty boasts of a fifteen year old.”

Ares grabbed Xena’s right arm, and she muffled a curse. It was obviously infected.

“That’s got to hurt.”

“Such concern.” She returned sarcastically. “Forget about me, and focus on the danger to Eve.”

He looked up at her, frowning, his hand moving slowly down her lower arm.

“But I thought you would have got it by now, Xena.”

His thumb was now stroking the inside of her wrist.

“She was never after Eve. It’s you – and it’s payback.”

Xena pulled her hand from his crossly.

“What did I ever – oh.”

And she turned back to the campfire, and remembered. It seemed a long time ago – so long – but a goddess could wait eternally for vengeance.

She trusted him, and she didn’t trust anyone.

Well, she didn’t trust him either, she supposed, but they had a kind of grudging respect for one another which was as near as either of them would get to trust. Trust got you killed.

So when he told her about the weapon – only mortal hands could take it from its resting place – she was as ready as he to leave everything else and go after it.

“It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen, Xena.” He assured her, trudging along the mountain track by her side. “There’ll be no warrior like you, no one to touch you.”

She raised an eyebrow. “That’s already the case, surely?”

He laughed. “Let me tell you, you won’t be satisfied with Greece and the East after you’ve got this weapon. You’ll want more.”

“But most importantly, I’ll be leading your picked army, right?” She grinned. “Let’s be honest here – it’s more about your glory, than mine.”

He laughed again, a little uneasily. She was too perceptive.

“Actually . . .” He began.

“Oh, yes? Tell me the real story, and I might be more willing to share a bit of my glory.” She mocked him, and then ran a hand up his bare chest.

He shivered, and Xena smiled again. She loved the power she had over him.

“Well – the weapon is worth it, don’t get me wrong, but it’ll also have the pleasant consequence of putting Athena in her place.”

“Great. Another god offside.” Xena muttered. “You could’ve told me.”

“Ah, she won’t take it personally. After all, she is the goddess of wisdom – surely she’ll take defeat fairly.”

Xena rolled her eyes. “Give me a break.”

“The weapon will be worth it.” He reassured her. “Oh – and there’s another god after it, But no one important.”

“Spill it.”

“He’s called Kal – just a regional kind of god, not in Athena’s league.”

“You’re so reassuring.”

Xena camped for the night, while Ares popped off to Olympus – no use expecting him to rough it with her. Oh, there was a time when he’d consider any night a good time to tempt her with his slim, hard, body, but he learnt pretty fast she wasn’t going that way. It had cost her in the past – with Caesar, for example – and she wasn’t falling again. She got enough of what she wanted from Borias.

The weapon, apparently, was in an old temple up on the slopes of a mountain. Xena spent the arduous journey wondering about the weapon. Was it a kind of sword? A bow? Though Ares had said it was like nothing she’d ever seen. It was obviously worth three gods’ warring.

When she reached the gate of the temple, she saw two other climbers and swiftly sent an avalanche their way. Funny, that Athena hadn’t bothered to do the same to her.

It was dark within the temple. Empty, too, of the usual offerings and altars that littered your usual temple. She supposed few people made it to the old building.

“Okay, Ares.” She said impatiently into the dark. “If this is one of your tricks, I’m really not going to be happy.”

“Come on, have a bit of faith!” Ares said, appearing behind her. “And by the way, Athena couldn’t damage you for the same reason I couldn’t zap you here. We can’t interfere.”

“Uh huh.” She looked around. “This place looks empty to me.”

“You’re not seeking a sword, or a bow. Look!” He urged.

“I have, and. . .” She began angrily -then she looked up.

 Unlike the rest of the building, it was polished, clean – it shone. It was some kind of beaten metal, in intricate patterns, swirling, joined, unbroken. It was joining; it was connectedness – it was completeness. By the time she finally realised the centre circlet was her weapon, she was breathing hard, and her heart was pounding. In an instant, she and Ares had fallen on one another, kissing, trying to get closer and closer. It was like it had ever been, hard and fast, fighting as much as loving, tongues warring, hands moving wildly, all for the joining -

Then she’d head-butted him and leapt for the weapon.

With a shudder, Xena realised that Ares was just inches away from her. She couldn’t keep her eyes from his lips . . . her heart thudded in her chest until she could hear nothing else. She felt his hand stroking the soft palm of her hand, his other hand pushing back a lock of black hair. She looked up to his eyes –

And jerked back. It was still there; that mischief far from innocent, that awareness of his own power. He couldn’t lose himself, as she could . . . . he couldn’t lose. Even when the gods lost, they won.

She rose, pulling her cloak around her, rubbing her arm automatically.

“This is serious, then.” She muttered.

“Oh, yeah.” His voice sounded amused. “I told you long ago, I –“

“Shut up!” Xena cursed softly, not wanting to wake the others. “You think if I left them, to go on to Potidea by themselves, she might leave them alone?”

Ares shrugged. “Maybe. Then again, maybe not, and then you’d have left them unprotected.”

“Gabrielle could protect Eve against anyone, apart from a god, and I’d trust her with my daughter’s life if I could trust myself . . .” Xena sighed. “What a mess. Well, got any ideas about how to placate a goddess? I’m not handing my chakram back to her now – it’s part of me.”

“You’re asking me for help?” Ares teased.

“You really are a bastard, aren’t you?” Xena sneered. “I asked you for ideas, in order to help your daughter –“ She cut herself off. “Eve, I mean.”

There was a silence, and then Ares stood.

“I’ll ask around, see if there’s an out clause on vengeance.” Then his voice changed. “Look, I won’t let you – don’t worry about that arm. I will not let Athena – “

“Kill me? I’m mortal, remember, Ares.” Xena retorted coldly. “ We die easily, and in my case, often. I won’t last forever.”

But he was gone.

Chapter Five

They were meandering as slowly as Xena dared, following the river towards Potidea, when the truth hit Gabrielle.

She stopped her horse, stared at Xena who was walking Argo, and then looked quickly over at Eve.

“I know these woods, Eve – there’s often strawberries at this time of year. Do you want to check?”

Eve didn’t need a second invitation; she loved sweet things. As soon as she was hidden by trees, Gabrielle dismounted and strode over to Xena. Grabbing her arm, she inspected the cut.

“Oh, Xena!”

“I know – I know.”

They were silent for a minute, and then Gabrielle looked up.

“It just hit me then – what Ares meant, who Athena is. None of the gods can heal you without her blessing, can they?”

“No.” Xena replied in a low voice.

Gabrielle swallowed. “Any ideas?”

Xena grinned tightly. “Wondered if you did.” She retold the story of the chakram, and Gabrielle listened carefully.

“Guess you couldn’t ask for some other punishment than blood poisoning?” She inquired.

“Ares is – asking for a favour.” Xena admitted. “But I don’t think . . . I’m not hopeful.” She shrugged. “He says he loves me, but that doesn’t mean the same thing when it comes from a god.”

“Especially considering he took off with Eve after his grand declaration.” Gabrielle agreed. She stopped. “I’ve got it. No – hang on –“

She moved over to her horse. “If this works, you’ll see me in a couple of days. But, Xena, I don’t want the showdown in my family home. Things could get messy.”

“I agree.” Xena walked over to Gabrielle. ”There’s an old house, not far from here. My grandmother had a farm, it’s ramshackle and completely empty now.” She gave directions, aware that Gabrielle wasn’t ready to share the purpose of her sudden journey. “Love you – and see you soon.”

Gabrielle nodded, then spurring on her horse, headed west.

Xena then settled Argo and went into the woods after Eve. She owed it to her to explain everything.

****

Gabrielle rode hard towards the Amazon Lands, remembering what Ephiny had told her. After the long past incident with Xena and Velasca, the Amazons had kept a little ambrosia in store. Just in case . . .

If she could bring it back to Xena, then Athena would be unable to keep her vow of vengeance. She would be unable to kill her –

Gabrielle pushed the possibility that Xena could die in the meantime out of her mind. She wouldn’t, that was all. After everything, there was no way Xena was leaving them again.

****

It was late the next day before Xena and Eve arrived at the old farmhouse. They’d travelled slowly, Xena aware she needed to conserve her strength, and that they had time enough, to spend together-

Even if she wasn’t her daughter, Xena decided, she would have loved her the same. She was just so lovely. The way she enjoyed all the travelling, all the new experiences, how exciting it was for her! Everything was experienced anew through Eve’s eyes. And she was so ready to learn, though like Xena herself, she didn’t want to be shown twice. Mostly, she didn’t need it, either.

She wore a sword at her back as Xena did, but she hadn’t practiced at all since the day they’d found her. It was as though she’d found a whole new way of living.

“You’ve tricked the gods before, haven’t you?” Eve asked suddenly, as they approached the dirt road to the farmhouse.

“Yes – it can be done. Has been. There’s things about mortals that the gods never understood, and the ability to think ahead is one of them.” Xena replied, pulling open the rusted gates.

“You’ve tricked papa – I mean, Ares?”

“Yes.” Xena answered shortly. She wouldn’t have been able to count the number of times. But he didn’t have wisdom along with his war, as Athena did.

She stabled the horses, ensuring the old barn would stay up. Well, things were built to last back then. Eve had already run into the house excitedly exploring. She paused a moment, trying to think. The pain was making that difficult, now – her arm had swollen and felt hot and tight. She didn’t like to touch it. Finally she made up her mind.

“Ares, come here, I need you.” She spoke out strong and clear.

“Thought you’d never ask.” He was there, as soon as she asked, and Xena felt a rush of relief and thankfulness.

“I’ll ask you for help – for Eve’s sake.” She was near tears. “Get me the dagger of Helios. Maybe with that as a bargaining chip . . . “ She saw the hesitancy in his eyes. “And I’ll give you want you want. Get me out of this, and I’ll give you your child.”

Ares stared at Xena.

“You really mean it?”

She stretched out a hand. “If you really want it –“

“I do.” And he covered her palm with her own. “Give me a day. I’ll be back with it.”

“And I’ll be ready.” Xena murmured, as he disappeared. “I think –“

Chapter Six

Eve and Xena cleared up the wooden house as much as they could, and sat that night before a roaring fire. Eve had asked whether she could read one of Gabrielle’s scrolls, and Xena had assented, wanting to have at least that much of Gabrielle with them.

Eve chuckled over the story of Gabrielle’s enchanted quill and the mix-up it had caused, and Xena smiled too, then sighed, wishing Gabrielle was with them. Maybe the next day, maybe she’d come back with something so she didn’t have to go through with her bargain with Ares . . .

It was not as though the idea of being with him was abhorrent to her. But not like this, like a payment. How could it be right to bring a child into the world as some kind of treaty?

And why did Ares want it? She couldn’t understand that. After she excused herself and went to bed in the old room beside the kitchen, she tossed and turned, wondering that. Ares had to be curious, sure, seeing they’d never been together before. She was curious herself. But why the child? He would have hundreds of by-blows by this time. Why did he want one with her?

Her dreams were garbled and strange that night; her thoughts painful the next day, as they continued to clean out the old house. Eve was obviously enjoying the work, hanging off the verandah patching the roof, or carefully nailing a loose floorboard. Xena watched her, so proud, in the place where she herself had been young. Maybe not so young, at fifteen – but near. And she let her right arm hang by her side – it was useless now. But because she was used to having an arm out of action during her warring years, she could manage just as well with her left, and fixed up what she could one-armed. If she did have to die, she wanted the last few days to be happy memories for Eve.

It was only later that she realised she had her eyes fixed on the sun, and her stomach filled with dread at its setting. And it was only when they were watching the moon rise at night that she realised how much she’d held out the hope of Gabrielle’s return.

Eve was settled in the small room on the upper floor, where Xena had slept as a child. Xena stayed by the fire – staring at the pictures formed by the flickering flames.

“I’ve got it.”

Xena stood, willing herself not to shake. He held the one thing in his hand that could kill him, and he held it loosely, unafraid. He trusted her. Suddenly her fears disappeared, and she stepped forward, putting the dagger carefully on the mantelpiece above the fire, and then raising her left arm to his face. Her fingers touched the curve of his chin – brushed through the dark, cropped hair.

“I can’t heal your arm – but I can let you forget it for a night.” He murmured, stroking two fingers down from her shoulder. The pain disappeared, the throbbing ceased. She hadn’t realised how much it hurt until then, hadn’t realised how much she wanted him to be sweet to her, either, and how scared she was.

“Thank you.” She whispered, then pulled down his face to her own, and kissed him.

It went on forever. Blocked everything out. Nothing had ever been like this, ever, no thoughts, no fleeting worries, nothing disturbing the connection between them. But when she pulled away for air, she looked at his eyes, and saw the marks of godhood there, and tears came unbidden to her eyes.

“You don’t have to do this, Xena.”

She wiped her face quickly. “No, I promised. I owe you –“

“Still, you don’t have to.” He didn’t have the guts to release her, but he didn’t want it like that, either, Xena could tell. But it was payback now, or later, and she didn’t want him to leave, with her still in his debt. She moved quickly forward.

“Just tonight.” She promised him, promised herself. ”Eve’s upstairs, can we go into my room?”

“I can take you somewhere better –“

“No, I don’t want her to be alone here.” Xena replied sharply, afraid, suddenly, that Ares would get her out of the way and Athena would move in on Eve. A distraction – she shook the idea out of her head.

“It’s comfortable enough.” She reassured him, leading him to the simply furnished room, where her grandmother had had guests stay. It had a bed, and an old chair – but the bed was all they needed, anyway. She pushed him down onto it, and climbed on him. If it had to be this way, she wanted to be in control, it was the way she’d imagined it, anyway. She removed her breastplate, waited for him to get rid of his shirt, then moved forward.

“Xena!”

She wasn’t sure if her first feeling was of relief or annoyance, but either way she swung off Ares, embarrassed.

“You got back all right?”

“Yes.”

Both their faces were flaming – Xena didn’t dare to look back at Ares on the bed. So she was never sure just when he left.

Chapter Seven

He’d left the dagger, though, so if she used it, she was still beholden to him. She explained the deal to Gabrielle, they agreed she had great timing. Neither of them bought it.

Xena wondered if Gabrielle knew what the hard-won ambrosia would do. Offer her immortality, of course, but at a price. She still could not be healed. Her arm would rot away on her ever-living body, causing her agonising pain.

Despite that, she tossed the small pouch up and tucked it between her breasts. She felt the smooth hilt of the dagger in her hand. It might be a bargaining point – it might be a last resort.

They spent the next day quietly waiting. Xena pushed Ares and his bargain out of her mind – or at least tried to. They sat in the large open room near the entrance, Gabrielle attempting to mend some furniture, and Eve on the biggest table, painting the ceiling. Xena had her whetstone and was sharpening her blade.

When Athena finally appeared, she walked right past Xena standing there, blade drawn.

Instead she pulled Eve down off the wooden table and pushed her against the wall. Xena let out an ululation and leapt across the room.

Athena ignored the sound. Her blade swung across and sliced open Eve’s belly. There was a scream, then she fell in silence.

“Eve!”

Xena dropped the blade, dropped everything and collapsed next to her daughter, pressing on the wound, trying to stop the flooding of blood which poured out of her, poured over her body, covered Xena’s fingers in seconds.

“What is it you like to say, Xena? You’ve got thirty seconds to live?” And Athena laughed again. “Don’t worry – you won’t be alone.”

Gabrielle’s sais swung out from her own hands, flipped and soared, then swung back around.

“Down, Gabrielle!” Xena screamed, leaping and pulling the bard to the ground.

“Oh, what a pity. “ Athena commented, looking down dispassionately. “If you hadn’t moved her, she would have died instantly. Now it will be very painful.”

“Oh, Gabrielle. Oh, Gabrielle.” Xena pressed her free hand on the blood which spurted out of one leg, out of one arm. “Oh, she’s hit the arteries. I’m sorry, sorry –“

“I’m glad – “ Her friend coughed. “To be going with you . . .”

“You won’t die, you won’t!” Xena sobbed angrily. She gathered the unconscious Eve and her beloved Gabrielle in her arms. “You can’t!”

“They can.” Athena smiled. “They will. And so when you die, everything will be done between us.”

“And if I live?”

Athena laughed, full and strong. “Oh, if you live, why I’ll forgive everything, of course!”

“Say it again!” Xena hissed, pulling herself to her knees, before collapsing once more.

“If you live, of course I’ll leave her be, leave you all be.” Athena laughed. She knelt down, staring at the blood spurting from Eve’s stomach.

“Swear it!” Xena said hoarsely. “By the dagger of Helios!”

Athena stood up, still smiling, ready to indulge Xena on any of her foolish whims.

“No, Xena!” Gabrielle cried, dragging herself over. “It’s not worth it, it’s not –“ She coughed, and collapsed. “It’s too late . . .”

Xena raised herself up on one arm, and grabbed the pouch of ambrosia. So she’d live in pain, forever and ever. Maybe it was better for the three of them to meet in Elysium, except that Athena would have won –

The goddess gave out a horrible laugh, and the pouch shrivelled into oblivion.

“I’m a god, Xena. How could you live except by me?”

Xena felt a sudden relief come over her. She turned her head, looking at her daughter, unconscious beside her, and then at Gabrielle.

“We’ll be together soon.” She murmured, reaching out a free hand to her friend. “Together, forever . . .”

She suddenly shivered, then turned her head painfully, realising what it was she had just sensed.

He appeared, and somehow Xena realised he’d been there all the time.

“By the dagger of Helios, Athena?”

“By the dagger of Helios.” Then bored, the goddess swung her sword round her body, lunging it at Xena.

Xena stretched out her arm and grabbed the blade. And saw her arm extend whole before her.

He’d crouched, and laid his hands on two dark heads – and, as an afterthought, moved to touch the fair. 

“What have you done?” Athena screamed, and then Xena leapt up, her blade against the goddess’ throat. “You think I still can’t kill you?”

“I gave up my immortality to save them. And no, you can’t.”

He was still on the floor, still bent over Eve whose wound had disappeared, though she was lying in a pool of her own blood.

“You swore by the dagger of Helios – though I didn’t think, know . . .” Xena breathed, turning away from the goddess, staring at Ares. Impossible . . . then, in a movement she grabbed Ares’ sword, and threw it at Athena.

She grabbed the weapon involuntarily, then realising what she had accepted – War itself – gave out a frustrated shout of anguish, before disappearing.

“We can’t allow the spirit of War to be unleashed on the world again . . .” Xena breathed. Then she sank to her knees, holding Eve, Gabrielle in her arms, unable to believe what had just happened.

And then when she lifted her head to thank him, he’d gone.

Chapter Eight

They looked for him for a long time after that, but he’d gone. They owed him everything, and couldn’t find him to repay him; worst of all, he could be dead. He didn’t know pain, probably didn’t know enough to eat regularly.

First, though, they took Eve to the Amazons. She was the right age to start training, and she wanted it, more than anything. Xena knew she had the skill with the sword, and she was scared to show it in front of them – reminded them where she’d learnt it. So she consented.

“It’s two years, Gabrielle!”

“But we can visit.” Gabrielle replied reasonably. “And – she needs her own life, her own place to call home. We don’t have that. She needs to learn how to be one of many. That’s not something we can teach her.”

“Oh, I’ve barely seen her, barely know her, and I have to give her up . . .” Xena complained, then grinned. “I know what you’re about to say.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Welcome to Motherhood.” And then she laughed. ”Funny how people need a place to have a home. Even Joxer’s settled down with Meg in her tavern. But for me – where you are, that’s my home.”

“For me too.” Gabrielle replied gently, and then led her away from the Amazon camp.

Gabrielle wondered whether it was any good, searching for Ares. In her opinion, leaving them without expecting anything was the noblest thing he’d ever done. She was pretty sure he’d find them when he wanted to, or his own terms. Probably after he’d conned Aphrodite into handing over some ambrosia.

When she was being honest with herself, Gabrielle realised she was scared. Interrupting them like that – Xena never would’ve got that far unless she’d wanted it. In fact, Gabrielle sighed to herself as she led her horse along a narrow path, she’d wanted it a long time. That was becoming a lot clearer.

They headed North, following whatever instincts led Xena on her travels. It was kind of nice being by themselves for a while, though, even though they missed Eve. It was like the early days, when all they had to worry about was big stupid giants.

“There’re giants this way, too, Gabrielle.” Xena warned. “So don’t get too cocky.”

“Stupid ones?” Gabrielle asked hopefully.

“Yeah, all giants are stupid. Must be the size of their – heads.”

“Uh-huh.” Gabrielle murmured, and they laughed.

“Listen, there’s a tavern up ahead which actually serves pretty decent food – or did, back when I was here last.”

“And that was – when?” Gabrielle inquired politely. “Ten years ago?”

“Something like that.” Xena admitted. “Must’ve been good then, for me to remember it!”

The food wasn’t bad, Gabrielle had to admit. It got to the point where Xena, having finished her own, was trying to sneak bits of her plate. And she was the one with the reputation for appetite!

“Come on, Gabrielle.” Xena teased. “Look, you won’t finish it all, and then it’ll be wasted.”

“Why don’t you order some more, if you’re so hungry.” Gabrielle argued. “You aren’t getting mine.”

“Xena?”

Gabrielle lost her appetite at the sound. It was a reluctant ask for help – which meant something big, with lots of potential for danger. She laid down her piece of bread and looked at the man.

A warrior, that was for sure. Scarred, rough, but with honest eyes. He didn’t seem to be one of Xena’s old cronies, from the way she was talking to him. She knew of him, maybe. It was almost as though Xena seemed ashamed.

The next morning, when she saw Xena’s note, she realised that the shame had a source – the evil past rising once more. Somehow, this warrior had something of the power that she herself held – the power to provoke Xena into seeing the right path. And while she travelled, while she went after Xena, holding onto the bond between them, she also knew she wanted to meet someone who knew what it was like to change another person.

****

Xena had hoped the trip North with Gabrielle would help her forget – she just hadn’t expected it to do so quite so thoroughly. A whole year, a whole year when she was separated from her past, and from her friend! Not knowing her own name, her own history and connections. But the ring, and faithful Beowulf prompted in her the right direction – and connecting with Gabrielle completed it. By the time they travelled home, and reassured Eve in the lands of the Amazon that she hadn’t been forgotten all that time,

Xena was certain Ares was dead. So many people out to get him; so few useful skills gained from his time as a god.

Chapter Nine

He’d waited till they’d left, really left, before returning to the farmhouse.

He didn’t want their pity. It was something they wouldn’t understand, and it was something he didn’t understand either, though after a good eighteen months as a mortal it was becoming clearer to him. Mortal emotions were linked to mortal weaknesses, which is why he’d never understood them. Never got grief, when things were forever. Never got fear, when he’d had no pain. And now he was quite sure he’d never got love, because it’d never hurt so much before.

It was something he’d tried to puzzle out before – why Gabrielle and Xena stuck together despite the hurt they caused one another. Why they didn’t just give it all up. But he got it now. No way he’d give up on her. No way. Finally he realised that love wasn’t about him, what she could give him – it was about her. Giving without recompense seemed foolish before, but now he understood. Didn’t need payment.

Aphrodite had tried to give him ambrosia a couple of times, but she’d been prevented every time by one or other of the gods, till he finally told her to leave him alone. It was better like that, just living like a mortal, pretending that it was all a game. So he wanted to eat? Why not. No reason why the god of War couldn’t hunt occasionally. He fashioned himself a decent bow, and was able to catch what he needed, and barter for the rest. They got used to him in the local village, couple of innocent girls even batting their eyes at him. If only they’d known.

A little dog – some quack pedlar’s pup, forgotten in a quick getaway – attached itself to him, and Ares got used to the little guy. Began training him to retrieve fallen birds for him, flush out rabbits. Liked the little yelps of happiness he made when Ares gave him a pat for good service.

So he slept in her bed. So what. It was comfortable enough, hadn’t she said that? Sometimes he wondered whether he was under a kind of spell, like the ones in Gabrielle’s scrolls she’d left lying around. It couldn’t be normal to be interrupted ten times a minute with some new vision of her. Like now, seeing her pulling open the gate, coming to him . . .

“Hey.”

He stared, couldn’t help it. Her eyes were the exact shade of blue he’d remembered, except somehow more vivid. She looked tired.

“Wondered if you’d head back here.”

He moved forward, wondering if he were suffering those weird hallucinatory visions that had come after eating some bad mushrooms in the forest.

“You look thinner.”

He cracked a smile at that.

“You look tired.” He answered finally, and then grabbed her right arm, pushing up her sleeve to inspect her right shoulder. She let him, inclining her head patiently. There was a scar, but it had healed up all right.

“Athena’s been leaving you alone?”

“She has to.”

“Where’s Gabrielle, Eve?” He asked finally, looking around. To be honest, he’d caught up with Eve a couple of times at the Amazon camp though he wasn’t very popular around there.

“Gabrielle’s gone to see someone.” Xena answered slowly. “I think she’s found someone like her –“

Ares wondered if she was saying what he hoped she was.

“Ares, I never said – I never thanked you –“ Xena began, but Ares shook his head.

“I’m not going to call in that favour, Xena, don’t worry.”

She had the grace to blush.

“I was an idiot, anyway, thinking that it’d mean anything, when it was just a bargain. Like you owe me, anyway, after everything I’d done –“

“Stop.”

Xena moved forward, held his chin. He stepped back. “Don’t, I said you don’t owe me –“

“No, I want to see something.”

Xena stared at his eyes. They were the same – mesmerising, melting her with sincerity. A hint of amusement, maybe?

“I don’t see it.” She announced, then kissed him.

He decided not to interrupt until they both had to come up for air.

“Don’t see what?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Xena smiled. “Come on, let’s go inside. We’ve got some catching up to do.”

****

(get your minds out of the gutter! That's not what she meant . . . or was it . . well you'll just have to read the rest of the story in CHERISH

Please e-mail the author of this story with your comments. carly@lifestart.org.au.



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