Memories Pending

It was strange. No, strange doesn't even begin to describe it. To have memories that don't add up, to know that there's a part of you that's missing, that's straining to be remembered, and yet not being able to grasp it. There is no darkness more terrifying than not knowing yourself, but knowing you should. I thought I knew darkness, after all, my darkness was the part that was missing. The darkness that had let me become the warlord that I was. The darkness that had nearly torn me apart. Yes, I do know darkness. A part of me is darkness. Pure darkness. Absolute. I can't run from it. I don't even try. Truth be told, I like my dark side. No, what I felt was not darkness. It was a void. Nothingness. Nothing of who I was, except for a part I buried long ago. A part I thought had died, until Hercules unchained my heart. A part that even still I don't let show through often. The part of me that houses my love and compassion. After Eli revived us, all I remembered was Gabrielle, Amarice, Joxer, my mother, anyone whom I loved. No, that's not true. I remembered anyone who was good. Anyone who had a light that kept me from my darkness. I didn't remember any of my dark past, of my warlord years. I didn't even recall any instance in which I fought. The memories didn't fit together, and I suppose I knew it. But because I didn't think about it, it didn't seem strange at all. Except...

"I know you..." I told him. I looked into his deep brown eyes, desperate to remember. I had been saved from Kal by him. But still, there was something more. So much more. I strained to remember, but the memories wouldn't come. I could feel him in my blood, racing through me like... I had forgotten that too. It was a rush. Adrenaline. Passion. I knew his name. I knew him. So well. He was in me. I could sense his very being. And yet, I couldn't remember him. I could feel violence radiating off him. Violence, death, destruction, warfare, and a passion for all of it. But as I stand naked before him, I know that he won't hurt me. No, not me. Not his chosen. Chosen. The word strikes a chord in me, emanating through me like the echo of a forgotten song. Suddenly flashes, memories.

Him. Me. He gives me something. What? I look at my hands. The patterned metal ring. The one Amarice gave me. The one on the temple wall. He strokes my hair. I look up from the flattened ring, into his eyes.

The memories stop. I try to hold them, but they slip away like grains of sand. I meet his eyes again in the candlelit room and he sees my confusion. I sink back into the relaxing waters of the bath. Slowly I close my eyes. Why can't I remember? I feel his hands at my shoulders as he begins rubbing gently. It draws me away from my troubled thoughts, lets me relax. I feel safe with him. The massage feels sooo good. I'd missed this. Missed his touch, his caress... Missed from what? From when?

"Yeah, that's it. That's good. Just let go. Relax," his words flow over me, melting into me like his very presence does.

"It's amazing the difference when you don't resist me." Relaxed in his massage, a soft question stirs.

Why would I ever resist this? More memories, like a dam bursting. One after another.

"I've changed Ares!" I shout. A patronizing smirk in return. The memories change. Our swords clash, metal on metal. We smile at each other, it's not a real fight. It changes again.

"We're enemies!" I yell at him.

"Oh no Xena," he says, keeping his distance. "We aren't enemies. We never will be." Another flash and the memories shift. A raging battle, me and him, side by side, fighting. Winning. Loving every second of it. I glance down at my blood-coated sword. I'm lifted to another memory. I lay naked, under the silken covers. Movement beside me. I smile to the God of War's face. He strokes my cheek. Another change. I turn the flattened ring over in my hands, examining the patterns and the sheer beauty of such a weapon.

"It's a Chakram," he tells me.

"It's beautiful." I throw it. It ricochets and returns to me. He chuckles.

"You're a natural." He takes it from my hands and fastens it at my hip. As he rises from his crouch, I step forward, closer to him. Our lips meet fiercely.

The memories stop. His hands are still at my shoulders. I stand, turning to face him. I look into his eyes, and see pure passion there. The passion is in me too. Struggling for control. Finally I lean in, bringing my lips closer to his, wanting to feel release for something I know I've waited a long time for. The door opens. Gabrielle! We pull apart. No! I just want...

*****

I was sure at that moment that if I had just had a chance to kiss Ares that my missing self would be restored to me. Maybe it would have. I don't know. That wasn't the reason I wanted....him....however. My connection to him is more powerful than my connection to anyone else -- Even Gabrielle. Before, I always told myself that his connection was to my bloodlust, my warlike nature, the dark side that I tried so hard to escape. But now, I've lived without my dark side, even without memories of him and the connection was still there. I wasn't sure what it was then. But it was there, he was there, in my blood, stronger than anything I've ever felt. I unclasp my Chakram, running my fingers over the curved bar in the center, the cold metal like a crystal lake. It's not his gift from so long ago anymore. But in a way, it's still his gift to his chosen warrior. To the one he loves. To me, who he gave up his Godhood for.

"Ares..."

...h.o.m.e...