Judgement

By Something Royal

Behind the snow topped mountains past the eastern territories of Sparta, the sun steadily rose over the fertile land, heating the earth. The calming melodies of song birds drifted along the warming breeze. Blue and pink hues graced the sky, which was littered with dense white clouds. Leaves of green twittered and spun as a warm current swept through them. It was the makings for a beautiful day.

Nearly two months had passed since the Olympian order had reached its zenith. At the hands of the Warrior Princess, the pantheon had fallen. Her offspring, a once fierce commander of the legions of Rome, remained with her mother only a few weeks before deciding it was time to see what destiny had in store for her and her new life.

Now, just outside of Sparta, a fire burned brightly. The flames danced, reflecting off morning dew which sat idle upon nearby foliage. An iron pan was held over the fire. Its contents sizzled.

Gripping the handle, a piece of cloth between her palm and the hot iron, was Xena. Her ebony hair hung over her shoulders. Delicate twigs and leaves sat tangled within the thick locks. Black lashes sunk over blue eyes momentarily, before flying upward again. She let loose a long, drawn out yawn, and shook her head in an attempt to stay conscience.

Peering down into the skillet, she felt satisfied that her breakfast of fresh quail eggs was ready for consumption. Xena reached for a fork and began to eat directly from the pan, making sure to keep the hot iron away from her skin. Her mouth puckered as the food proceeded to burn her tongue. Placing the pan to the ground, she reached for her water skin and indulged in its sweet relief. This action produced an involuntary coughing spasm.

As the influx of air subsided, Xena turned her attention back to her food. Nearby, the fur blanket on the other side of the fire began to move. A hand immerged from beneath, pushing the cover down. Gabrielle's weary face appeared, a look of annoyance clearly written upon it. Her lids stayed lowered and she breathed out forcefully.

"Y'know Xena...after all these years of traveling together, you never fail to wake me up in the most irritating fashion." Gabrielle wiped a piece of sleep from her eye and proceeded to get up from the forest floor. Standing in front of the fire, she looked down at her and continued, "Why must you always get up so early?!"

Xena picked up a piece of bread and tore into it with her teeth. Chewing on it, her lips curled up into a smirk. "Its noft mfy fwmault youf-"

Gabrielle squinted her eyes and flared her nostrils. "You want to try and tell me that when you don't have a loaf of bread in your mouth?"

Reaching again for her water skin, Xena let a small snicker creep out. She washed down her palate and used the back of her hand to wipe away the residue that remained on her face. She picked the pan back up and cleared her throat.

"I was saying....It's not my fault that you're so lazy." Concluding her quip, Xena pierced some more egg upon her fork and went on eating.

Her friend was not amused in the least. Gabrielle sneered before looking about the surrounding area. Her green eyes roamed over the pan, the eating utensils, the opened food sack, and the two small sticks that sat next to the fire. She breathed in and bit her lip.

"Xena..."

"Yee-ah?"

Gabrielle clenched her fists. "Please do NOT tell me that those are the last two eggs."

Swallowing the last bit of her breakfast, she placed the skillet onto the ground. "Um...Ok, then I won't tell you." Xena's face took on a guilty look before a burp made its way out her mouth. "Uh, excuse me..."

Gabrielle picked up the empty food sack and threw it at her friend. She turned around, mumbled incoherently to herself, and began to roll up her fur blanket. Xena pulled the sack from off her head and peered into its empty recesses. This caused her to frown as she put it back down.

"Gabrielle-I'm really sorry. I don't know-I just didn't think about it. There's still some bread and cheese-"

"That's your problem, Xena. You don't even consider that *I* might be hungry. You don't consider that just maybe, I might want a little something to eat when I get up."

Xena stood and, she too, began to fold her own bedroll up, all the while staring curiously at the bard. "Listen-I'm sorry. We can stop in Sparta if bread and cheese isn't good enough for you."

Gabrielle jerked her head around and stared at the warrioress, holding back a scowl. "Yea....ok-fine." She made her way to her bay horse and began to strap her belongings to the animal's back. "Be sure to put your fire out."

Tilting her skin upside down, water spilled out, and upon fusing with the fire below, steam began to rise. The fire quelled, Xena turned and looked at Gabrielle confusedly. "What's the matter with you anyway? You've been acting like this for weeks now."

The bard raised a foot to the stirrup of her saddle and mounted her horse. She peered between the animal's ears, staring off at nothing, before shaking her head. "It's nothing, Xena. You know I'm grumpy in the morning. Let's just go?"

"Yeah...Alright. Let me just get my horse saddled and packed." Xena made her way to the palomino mare and began to get ready.

Gabrielle stared at the ground meanwhile, trying to figure out what was truly bothering her. In her head, she knew the answer. She wouldn't let herself acknowledge it, though, and this disconcerting feeling she woke up with every morning would just not cease. Rolling it over in her head, repeatedly, only served to depress her more. The thoughts wouldn't ebb, however, and the sound of leather creaking as Xena tightened the girth nearby wasn't helping to calm her mood either.

The bard's eyes scanned site once more, making sure that she had indeed packed all of her belongings. By the time she realized that, yes, she had managed to gather everything, Gabrielle noted that the Warrior Princess looked to be finished.

"Alright-I'm ready," Xena announced as she mounted her own horse and urged the animal forward.

***********************************************************

Making their way toward Sparta underneath a canopy of dense trees, they went on in silence. Shadows and light rolled over them, the balance changing with each step. The only noises made were that of leaves being crushed under the weight of the two horses and birds' melodies. They had been traveling for just under half an hour.

Gabrielle sat atop her mount. Her eyes were distant and her lips remained pouted in contemplation. Xena looked toward her friend and lowered a brow. "What's wrong?"

Snapping out of deep thought, the bard glanced down. "I-I.."

"Do you miss Eve? Been feeling really melancholy myself since she left. It's something she had to do, though, and I support her in that."

Gabrielle furrowed her brows. "Uh, yeah-that's it. I miss Eve." She knew this wasn't entirely true. She did miss Xena's daughter, but her absence was not what was causing the attitude.

"Well, don't worry. Eve told me before she left that she wants to meet up in a season in Athens. She's never been there and always wanted to see it." Xena reached down and adjusted her chakram. "Besides, I'm sure we'll find something interesting to keep our minds off of her being gone until then."

Gabrielle shifted in her saddle. "Yeah, we always do." She closed her eyes and shook her head. "Xena-"

"Hey..Do you hear that?" She brought her mount to a halt and Gabrielle followed her lead.

The sounds of people shouting could be heard from a distance. Normally, in Xena's world, shouting and yelling were synonymous with trouble. In this instance, however, it seemed that the noise was of a more innocent nature. Neither woman knew for sure, though.

"What's going on? It sounds like a festival or something."

"I don't know. It's definitely coming from within Sparta. We aren't far from the city gates. C'mon, let's hurry up and see what's going on." Xena clicked her tongue against her teeth, urging her mount into a medium trot.

With a deep sigh, Gabrielle followed behind.

Sparta.

The city had been replenished over the past twenty-seven years. Funds had been drained in an effort to prolong the Trojan War, and thus, caused the city to staggeringly diminish in its majesty, as well as population. This once glorious economy had spiraled down so far that it became nothing more than a small village. Over the years since peace had been reestablished, however, it had slowly, but surely, began to work its way back to its former glory.

High stone walls encompassed it. Banners in the city's designated colors of green and white caught flight on the breeze. Rod iron bars covered tower windows and the gates, which had remained closed for many years, now stood completely open. Travelers were now welcomed to stop and indulge in Spartan cuisine, art, and luxury...whatever little there was.

Nearing the gates, Xena's blue eyes scanned the town's main square. The area was completely packed with citizens and other onlookers at what seemed to be a rather major event. What it was, she couldn't decipher from the distance.

"Well, looks as though something important is going on." Xena raised a hand and pointed.

Gabrielle squinted her eyes in an attempt to gain better focus. "That's a lot of people! Is it a holiday??"

"No," she answered, shaking her head, "but now that we're getting closer, it appears that some of those people are on duty soldiers standing by. What in the world is going on?" Xena leaned forward in her saddle, trying to figure out what sort of brouhaha it was that they were about to drop in on.

Ten feet from the gates, Xena stopped her mare and dismounted. Gabrielle did the same and together, they led their mounts toward the entrance of what was...once...mighty Sparta.

Two guards stood on either side of the gates. They made no move to talk or question the two women. In fact, it seemed that they were not even paying any mind to who came or went. Their backs were turned to the entrance, their attention limited to the goings-on in town.

Xena and Gabrielle exchanged looks. Though they didn't say anything, it was clear they were thinking the same thing--poor security.

To the left of the entrance were tie racks. Riderless horses stood tethered to them. Xena and Gabrielle walked down the line and when they finally found enough space for their own mounts, they wrapped their reins around the wooden posts. The former patted her mare on the neck and looked down to make sure the trough was filled with fresh water.

"Does it look alright," the bard asked, taking a gander at it as well.

"Yeah, they'll be fine." Xena glanced to her side, making sure her chakram was still secure. "Ready?"

"Yup," Gabrielle answered, pulling a satchel down from her horse, "let's check it out."

The streets were filled with men, women, and children; peasants and nobility. While it seemed the majority wore nothing more than simple cotton attire, the few nobles scattered about were head-to-toe in fine silk, precious stones, and embossed metals. Yes, the separation between the social dichotomy was clear. In fact, it seemed that there were only two social standings, no middle class. Regardless of this balance and their differences, every person appeared to be in an enthusiastic mood.

People commiserated in groups, flashing smiles and laughing at jokes. Some were more animated than others, talking loudly and often times, speaking with their hands. Others were more demure, leaning into their associates and whispering as eyes wandered. Many held drinks, planning to get inebriated. Spartans could also be found indulging on various hand-held foods.

Vending tables were open for business, lining the city walls. Fabric, rare stones, fruits, vegetables, leather goods, breads and jewelry, these were a few of the things that were being bartered. Each table appeared to be run by a common man or woman, sometimes families, and that was generally the case in most cities. As Xena and Gabrielle walked past the make-shift market, vendors attempted to persuade them to stop. They would hold up their goods, say something about the quality, taste, whatever adjective applied, and then yell a price.

Toward the northern end of the square, a stage had been erected. Eyes held fast to it for, atop the platform, a play was being performed. The actors wore large, elaborately painted masks and long robes as they presented their rendition of Menander's, 'The Hero'. Their antics produced laughter and snorts from the audience, both men and women alike.

Jugglers snaked through the crowds--never missing a beat as they tossed brightly colored balls from hand to hand. Musicians strummed their lyres, some singing satires. Jesters walked about as well, naughty smiles stretched across their painted faces.

Gabrielle smiled. "It is some sort of festival. I suppose we picked the right time to come to Sparta, didn't we?"

When no answer came she looked back to where Xena had been standing only to find that she was gone. Green eyes jetted back and forth through the encompassing crowds till, finally, she saw her. The warrioress was near the center of the crowd. Gabrielle began to make her way there, finding the journey pretty difficult due to the hustle and bustle of people.

Finally reaching her destination, the bard sighed with relief. "Why did you just walk off like that?" She tapped her friend's arm when there was no answer. Xena seemed to be transfixed by whatever she was leering at. "What is it?"

She turned around, a look of disgust on her face, and pointed to what had held her stare. The bard's mouth dropped open and Xena flared her nostrils.

"This is no holiday, Gabrielle. This is a celebration of a hanging."

A gallows tree had been erected at the center edge of the main square in front of the palace. A noose hung portentously from the wooden crossbeam. Currently, the trap door beneath was being tested for fidelity. The sound of its unclasping hinges caused a grotesque sound to echo out and over the instrumental of a nearby minstrel.

"Why such a big celebration over a death, Xena?"

"I don't know, but I intend to find out." The warrioress looked around and clasped the arm of a man who was making his way through the crowd. "What's your name?"

He pulled away from Xena's constricting grasp and smoothed down his green embroidered chiton. "Excuse me?" He extended his chin in snobbery and ran a hand through his graying hair.

The man was, apparently, a noble. The clothes he wore were that of Spartan finery. There was little doubt that he was affiliated with the king. You would be hard-pressed in any city to find a noble that wasn't.

Xena rolled her eyes in regard to the condescending attitude and sardonically smiled. "I asked you what your name is."

The man smirked and placed his fingers over his neatly trimmed beard. "My name is Phazon, member of the high council. How may I be of service to you?" He puckered his lips and raked his brown eyes over Xena's leather clad form.

"Service me? Why, Phazon, I don't think you could satisfy me in that respect." She grinned with delight as his ego fell a few notches. "I just need you to answer some questions for me."

Irritated, he lowered his brows. "What?"

"Why this celebration? Whose neck is to swing in that noose?" Xena stared down at the little man, waiting for an answer.

"Tis a surprise, my dear. Don't worry, you're not the only one in the dark. Nobody, save for myself, the rest of the high council, and the monarchy know the answer. Just enjoy yourself. You'll find out soon enough."

Xena was not pleased in the least, but before she could voice her objection to being denied the answers she sought, Phazon had walked away. She looked back toward Gabrielle and lifted her hands in defeat. "Well, that was a waste of time!"

"He's just following orders, Xena." The bard looked around and caught a glimpse of a fruit stand in the distance. "I'm really hungry. I'm going to go get something to eat." She pulled a dinar from her satchel. "Be right back, okay?"

"Alright."

Minutes later, the bard returned with a bunch of ripe, green, seedless grapes. She pulled a few off of their stems and popped them into her mouth. Chewing them, a slight smile played at her lips. "Want some," she offered.

"Wha-" Xena tore her eyes away from the noose. "Sorry, what did you say?"

"I asked if you wanted some grapes."

"No, thanks," she answered before returning her attention to the execution site.

"Still ruminating on the gallows, eh?"

Xena frowned. "Yeah. There's something unsettling about this whole thing."

"Maybe it's a warlord? Slave trader?" Gabrielle shrugged and continued to satisfy her hunger on the sweet fruit.

"Could be...I don't know." The warrioress looked around the crowd. Laughter and merriment saturated the atmosphere.

One of the jugglers made his way past the women. Children chased after him, delighted and in awe of his skill. The play on the platform nearby looked to be coming to a close. The actors made their way to the end of the stage, clasped hands and took a bow. A thundering wave of claps and hollers followed.

It was at this time, that standing to the left of the gallows, four men dressed in imperial garb raised large horns. They placed their lips upon the instruments and breathed deeply into the pipes, emitting an attention getting melody as introduction to the royalty that now stepped out into the square. The entire mass of Spartans, including the guards who had stood watch at the main gate, moved forward toward the huge platform.

Xena immediately recognized an old weather-worn man as King Menelaus. The last time she had seen him had been at Troy when he claimed victory over the Trojan's, but lost what he had ultimately sought-- Helen. Now, at his side stood a woman who Xena figured to be his new wife. She was not nearly the beauty that he had waged war to possess, but the people seemed to love her. Every Spartan citizen bowed as she lifted her hand in recognition of them.

The warrior and the bard remained standing, looking around as if they were out of place.

It had been nearly thirty years since Troy had fallen. Menelaus was now, approximately, sixty-two. Thanks to his regal status, however, he was still in excellent condition. Being subject to every whim catered to, every need fulfilled, he was still an imposing figure.

As Menelaus made his way to the top scaffold of the gallows, he too raised a hand. At this, the crowd stood. His attire was extravagantly majestic. Atop his head sat a crown fixed with emeralds, rubies, diamonds and sapphires. Silk embroidered robes hung from his shoulders. The first was gold and layered on top of that was one in green. Upon them, the royal crest had been applied. Even upon his fingers, jewels sat and sparkled in the sun's warming rays. Golden gauntlets secured his wrists. This was not the worn king who had gone to war at Troy with nothing but the armor on his back. No, this was a king who seemed euphoric amongst luxury.

"Well, I knew we should have expected him to still be in power, but admittedly, I find this to be a bit strange," Gabrielle related.

"He looks rather content after keeping his people caught up in a ten year war." She stopped, remembering how long ago the war really was. "Even if it was years ago." Xena eyed the man over again, a sneer running across her face.

Menelaus stood upon the scaffold. The crowd cheered and called out his name as if he was a hero, rather than a war monger. They raised their drinks in salute and gratitude. He lifted his hands higher above his royally crowned head and smiled deeply as he attempted to quiet the people.

"EVERYONE!" The hoots and hollers began to ebb as he began. "Good citizens of Sparta, I salute YOU!"

At this, the crowd roared with adoration.

Xena rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Oh he's good."

Again, the onlookers' cheers fell silent as they stared on expectantly. Menelaus tipped his head and continued, "It is my great honor to serve as your king. Sparta will regain its former glory. Who can forget the mighty Trojan war? After ten long, brutal, years we defeated Troy! I, as your king, went to battle for the greater good of our home and I came back victorious!" He looked around the enamored faces of the crowd and smirked. "Today, I prove to you that the war we were forced into--the war that took your king from your home for ten years--the war that caused our stability to falter--will NOT go unavenged!"

The people cheered. They might not have known exactly what their king meant by 'unavenged', but his charismatic energy excited them. Coming out of such meager times, it felt good to hear about their return to glory. It felt good to hear that the friends and family they had so tragically lost during the Trojan War were not forgotten and would be avenged, whatever that entailed.

"What is he talking about," Gabrielle asked. "The entire monarchy of Troy was wiped out during the war."

Xena's lashes lowered. Her blue eyes pierced through them and the unimpressed look on her face remained. "He's telling them what they want to hear. Poor fools."

The two woman looked on as King Menelaus proceeded with his speech.

"Today, I bring Sparta that retribution. Today, we avenge those we lost so long ago!" He looked back and with a nod of his head, signaled the Royal Guard.

From a doorway adjacent to the palace, four guards walked out. Between the men was their prisoner. The man's head was covered with a black sack. His arms were bound behind him by weighted manacles and the clothes he wore were nothing but brown cotton rags. He was afforded with no boots or sandals and thus, his feet were bare. Marks, caused by unmerciful whipping, marred his blanched skin, the wounds oozing with each move his deteriorated muscles made. It was apparent that this prisoner had been not only beaten, but nearly starved.

At the base of the stairs, one of the soldiers pushed the man up the incline. Since his arms were bound, this caused the prisoner to fall face first into one of the wooden steps. Another soldier grabbed him from behind, jerking him upright, and then forced him to proceed.

Once to the top of the scaffold, they directed him under the noose and placed it around his shrouded head.

Menelaus grinned with delight. The king walked over to the prisoner and stood beside his broken form. He raised his hands, faced the crowd, and spoke with a prideful gleam in his fading brown eyes. "People of Sparta, I present to you this day, the cause of ten years' suffering. The cause of ten years of unnecessary battle. The cause of the pain it created. I bring you," Menelaus put his hand on the top of the black sack which concealed the prisoner's face. "war himself!!!!"

Xena heard the words as they spewed from Menelaus' mouth, but it wasn't until he pulled the shroud from the prisoner's head that she felt her stomach bottom out in astonishment.

Gabrielle's eyes bulged wide. "It's..."

"Ares," Xena whispered.

She looked on incredulously at the once powerful Olympian. The last time Xena had seen Ares was on Olympus when he had been instrumental in the downfall of the pantheon. Now, here he stood at the mercy of mortals.

His face was bruised and dark circles sat under a blank stare. His once neatly cropped black hair was grown out to the shoulders, slick with grease. From his lips, which were somewhat concealed by an unkept moustache, blood poured out and rolled down his face into an overgrown beard. The injury had, no doubt, been caused from the recent fall. He wearily looked out into the crowd, their faces in shock over the fact that their king had subdued this once omnipotent being.

Shock began to subside and now the crowd roared with approval. Menelaus had swayed them with the charismatic speech he had made, and now the citizens decided that their leader was right. Ares was to blame for the Trojan war. A man at the back of the crowd called out.

"DEATH TO ARES!!!!!" He looked about his friends, family and neighbors who had remained silent and shouted again, "DEATH TO ARES!!!"

He repeated this over and over again, building a rhythm until another person joined in, and then another, and another, till soon, the entire mass of Spartans were demanding Ares' demise.

"Death to Ares!!!"

"Death to Ares!!!"

"Death to Ares!!!"

The cries for vengeance pleased Menelaus. With a smug look, he walked toward the lever which would release the trap door, thus hanging the mortal. He stretched out long, jewel-adorned fingers and wiggled them about as if loosening them up.

Xena's mind began to reel. Ares stood atop the scaffold with nothing but a forlorn expression upon his beaten face. The people surrounding her were calling out for the execution to proceed. Menelaus meant to do it, and meant to do it soon. There was little time to do anything. She briefly glanced at Gabrielle before pushing her way through the crowd to get closer.

She could feel the scratchy cotton of commoner attire rub against her skin. Those with drinks raised their cups, making way for her passage. Droplets of mead spilled on her. She could smell the stench of alcohol and pungent sweat, but Xena desperately continued on.

The warrioress managed to make it to the very front of the audience. Her eyes held a bewildered glare as she systematically weighed her options. Time was running out.

Menelaus' hands wrapped around the lever and a wickedly triumphant smile crossed his lips. "You see before you a being who had all of Greece tremble at a whisper of his name...a being who shaped this nation by will. Now, he stands in defeat. Through the course of time, remember this--- I, King Menelaus of Sparta, defeated the mighty Ares!!!!" It was at this moment he pulled the lever down.

Ares' eyes remained open. He could feel the panel beneath his bare feet begin to give way, the creaking of hinges accompanying its impending descent. The coarse rope around his neck began to slightly constrict, nevertheless, he still stared forward.

If she was going to do anything, she had to do it now. Xena grabbed her chakram and sent it hurling through the air. Its familiar whirring noise made Ares' eyes snap up. Others heard it as well, Menelaus in particular, who watched on curiously as the weapon flew. He thought, perhaps, someone was sparing Ares with a quick death.

Menelaus was wrong.

The chakram severed the rope just as the trap door flung completely open. Ares fell through the opening and landed roughly on his side in the dirt below.

The Spartans shouted and booed. The king stood in utter shock. He wasn't exactly sure what had just happened. The hollers from the crowd, however, gained his attention. Menelaus now scowled and signaled the Royal Guard into action.

Catching the chakram on its return, Xena ran beneath the scaffolding. She grabbed Ares by the arm, bringing the fallen power back to his feet. Her eyes were feral as she urged him to run with her. If they were going to make it out of Sparta they had to do it quick. The crowd was beginning to riot and Xena did the only thing she could-go by instinct.

As soon as stepped from beneath the gallows tree and out of the shadows, the crowd rushed to meet them. They were clearly irate, but Xena would not back down. Despite the quantity of people facing them, she put herself in front of Ares and went into battle stance.

"Get BACK," she ordered, looking from face to face with her fists ready to strike.

While some just stood there, leering at them with disdain, others did not listen and continued to step ever closer to the pair.

"Maybe you didn't hear me." Xena pulled out her sword and swung it in a semi-circle, a vicious gleam in her eyes. "I told you to get BACK!!!!"

If the crowd had the gumption, they could easily take both of them down. Xena could only come up with one reason that the Spartans didn't lynch them right there and then-- curiosity. That was the only thing that was buying them time and she had to do something before they lost interest in simply standing by and glaring.

To make matters worse, Menelaus' guards were making their way to where she and Ares stood. That was it. They had to get out of there and there was no time to wait. Again, Xena threatened with her sword, a predatory look in her eyes. The crowd was comprised of mostly farmers and other common people. Again, while they could, together, take the Warrior Princess down, no one was prepared to get in the way of her sword. No one wanted to be harmed in the process.

They began to part as she continually thrust the steel at their soft bellies. Cautiously, Xena and Ares made their way through the dividing path. Xena looked from person to person. Wound like a trap, she was simply waiting to be sprung, and not a single person wanted to be a casualty. No, these were common people who backed up each time the warrioress leveled her sword at them. Slowly, she and Ares made it through the dense square, and that's when the Spartan soldiers began to catch up.

Xena caught sight of the bard and yelled, "GET THE HORSES READY!"

Gabrielle nodded, dropped grapes she'd been holding and ran for the stables.

Ares weakly moved with Xena as she led them toward the exit of Sparta. She kept her eyes on all who dared to move an inch. Both hands firmly clutched the hilt of her sword. Her mouth remained turned down in a frown. Together, they now moved in a backward fashion, not allowing the massive crowd to gain any openings.

The warrioress cast a quick look over her shoulder. "Can you run?"

Ares was barely audible, for his throat was hoarse and weak, but he answered, "Yes."

"Turn around."

Xena got herself ready. Keeping her eyes on the people in front of them, she waited till she felt Ares shift behind her. It was then that, with lightning quick reflexes, she spun around and brought the sword down upon the chain that bound his hands behind his back. The metal snapped instantly in a flash of sparks.

"RUN," she yelled.

Ares followed her orders and before the Spartans knew what had happened, Xena was facing them again.

By this time the guards were mere feet away. Since they had followed the narrow path she had made through the crowd, the men were in a single line formation, one behind the other. As the first moved to extricate his sword from its scabbard, Xena leapt at the soldier, landing a sizable kick to his midsection. He flew backward into those who followed him, and Xena took the opportunity to run.

Gabrielle was mounted and waiting with Xena's horse at Sparta's gates.

"HURRY UP!" Her gelding reared with fear of the tumultuous mass of people, who were now shouting and racing forward. Their curiosity no longer held them in place. She attempted to steady the animal and cried out again, "HURRY!!"

Xena had caught up to Ares in no time. He could barely run. The rocks below dug into the soft flesh of his bare feet, but he was trying his best. Together, they reached the horses and Xena mounted hastily. She lowered an arm and teeth bared down as she pulled Ares up. He was too weak to hoist himself.

Adrenaline kicked in as her eyes washed across the impending crowd and she managed to pull him up the rest of the way. None too soon either, for as they began a mad sprint out of town, arrows flew skyward.

The two horses exerted a voracious pace. Ares held tight to Xena's waist as they sprinted like mad. Her black hair flew back in his face and his eyes closed, feeling comfort again for the first time in months.

***********************************************************

Within a candlemark's distance from the pass at Mt. Parnon and adjacent to a grove of laurel trees, the clear blue waters of the Eurotas River flowed. Both horses were covered in thick, foamy, sweat. Their nostrils flared as oxygen returned to tightened lungs. Xena leaned forward and placed a hand upon her mare's chest.

"They need a rest. We've lost Menelaus' men for now."

Gabrielle nodded and began to dismount. "What's the plan?" The bard looked over as Xena assisted Ares off of the mare.

"We keep on going-" her words were cut short by Ares.

He shook his head, his hands still clutching her gauntlets. He attempted to clear his throat. Ares' once soft pink lips were now cracked and dry. The cut from earlier was also making it difficult to speak.

"The pass at Therapne-" He began to cough violently. Xena grabbed her water skin and handed it to him. He gratefully took it and drank deeply. As the lip of the container left his mouth he laboredly breathed, attempting to finish his sentence. "The pass--Menelaus will already have the guards stationed there alerted."

Gabrielle, who had her saddle in her arms, looked puzzled. "How?"

"Messenger birds," Xena huffed, exasperated. She turned to her mare and unbuckled the girth.

"What are we going to do," the bard asked, putting her gear down.

Before Xena could answer, Ares' eyes began to roll up in his head. His knees grew weak and slowly, he began to plummet toward the ground. She quickly lunged forward and caught him underneath the arms. "Easy there!"

"I'm alright." He tried desperately to manage a smile, but couldn't. All his effort did was cause the cut on his lip to split open again.

She helped him to a nearby tree and sat him at the foot of it. Once settled, she squatted and began to look mortal man over. Xena's emotions simply reeled. It was truly a shock to find this once powerful being in such a state as this.

"No, you're not alright." She looked back toward her friend and signaled for a cloth and her waterskin.

"Here." The bard handed her the skin and then pulled some linen from her satchel. She shook her head at the sight of Ares while offering the cloths to Xena. "I just-I just don't know what we're going to do."

The warrior poured water over the fabric and pressed it to the cut on Ares' lip. He flinched, as the pressure stung. Closing his eyes he sighed. "Just leave me."

Xena was shocked to hear those words exit his mouth. Ares had always been a survivor, always looked out for his best interests. She'd saved his life today, yet he didn't seem to care. Her brows lowered as these puzzling thoughts crossed her mind. She stood and looked from face to face.

"You both know that when I marched across Greece, I made sure that my army had a weapons and supply shelter to fall back on if times called for it. We dug one out around this area. We'll have to backtrack to get to it, but there should be some clothes and medicine."

Gabrielle nodded and ran a hand up the length of her arm. "Alright. I'll go take the horses down to the stream and wash them down. He looks like he could use the rest anyway."

"Thanks. We'll be here when you get back." Xena put a hand on her friend's shoulder and smiled meekly. "Be careful."

"Yeah, I will be...You do the same." The bard grabbed the reins of both animals. Looking back once more, she smiled slightly and led them away.

Now alone, Xena knelt beside Ares. "Why did you say that?" Her question was direct. She continued to dot away the blood that continued to ooze from his lip with the wet rag and waited for an answer.

"I wasn't meant to be mortal, Xena. All it brings is pain." He coughed again and grimaced feeling his bruised ribs shake against his skin.

"What happened?" She stared deep into his brown eyes. The fire in them was diffused, leaving nothing but desolate pools of despair. Xena couldn't deny that this bothered her. Ares' cocky style was gone. In its place was something she could not put a name to. She looked down to the ground, picked up a small stone, and threw it to the wayside.

He pushed himself up a bit out of his slumped position. "After what happened on Olympus-"

Eyes closed in sweet remembrance of his once glorious days on ethereal mountains... days of victory and delight, being master of legions, invincible and powerful. He opened his eyes and gazed upon his lashed skin and dirt covered feet. He waveringly sighed and looked back to her.

"After Olympus...I lost everything...everything... I thought that I could find allies in Sparta. They did win the war. I thought the king would be grateful to me." He coughed again. The pain shot through him and he grunted.

Xena put a hand to his ribs and felt around. "They were broken. Feels like they're nearly mended, but I don't want to take any chances. When did this happen?"

"A month ago, maybe less. It's hard to tell time when you can't see the sun."

She sensed his weariness at speaking of the events that had brought him to this. Deciding the account of what had happen could wait she raised a hand. "Listen, you can tell me the rest later." Xena got up and went to her saddle bag. She pulled out some cloths and with an earnest expression, walked back toward Ares. "I'm going to need you to stand up and take your shirt off."

She expected some sort of wise crack or a naughty smile. Xena had, after all, just beckoned him to undress, but there was nothing. He wearily attempted to stand, wobbling a bit. She extended an arm to steady him. Slowly, he began to peel the shirt from his skin, all the while his jaw clenched in pain. Beatings with the whip while in the Sparta jail had left wounds across his back. The blood had dried on the fabric of his shirt, causing the material to bond with the lacerations. As he pulled the shirt off, it begrudgingly tore from his flesh, causing the wounds to reopen.

Xena's eyes budged wide in shock as she let a silent gasp escape her lips. Ares turned and faced her before bowing his head in humility. Her mouth remained agape from seeing him like this. She took the wet rag, walked behind him and started to wash away the blood that dripped down his back. She bit her lip as she felt his body flinch at her touch.

"These wounds need to be cleaned out if they're going to heal." She brought the rag down again. The cool water cascaded down his back, stinging with each cleansing caress. "When we get to the shelter, we'll tend to them immediately."

Ares weakly nodded his head. He just stood there as if he were empty inside. Perhaps he was. After months of being isolated, malnourished and unkept, Ares was lost on a sea of humiliation, confusion and pain.

Xena gently pushed on his elbows, signaling him to raise his arms. She took the dry, clean, cloth and began to wrap it round his upper torso to support and restrict his ribs from movement.

"This should hold you until we get there."

Ares turned around and faced her. His eyes were downcast. She gazed at his mouth and saw that the bleeding had finally subsided, although the delicate skin was still dry and cracked. She looked around and caught sight of a large plant. Xena motioned for him to remain where he was as she made her way to it. She grasped it at the green root and with her chakram, cut it from the ground. White liquid immediately began to pour from the plant's stem. She quickly snapped the chakram back on its clasp and cupped her hand beneath the leaking limb.

She carefully walked back, discarding the foliage. Xena tipped her head at Ares, directing him to sit down at the base of the tree again. She knelt beside him, dipping her fingers in the creamy substance. "Here, turn your head towards me. This will ease the dryness."

He did as told and arched his head toward her, parting his mouth. The cool liquid dripped from her fingers as she moved to apply it. Xena dragged the cream across his lips, from one end to the other, top to the bottom, and the throbbing pain they felt began to dissipate into a cool numbness.

She stared deep into his eyes as she soothed the dried contours. Her gaze was filled with compassion. He looked up at her. She was such a comforting sight to behold. For the first time in months he felt safe, but empty nonetheless.

Weakly, he lifted a hand and placed it around her wrist, pulling her hand away. Xena looked at him confusedly. "What's the matter?"

Ares pressed his lips together, smearing the lotion. "You don't need to do this."

Xena shook her head. "Listen-you're hurt. Let me help." He hesitantly let go of her wrist. Again, she gathered the liquid upon her fingers and spread more of the substance on his lips. She could feel the rough skin begin to smooth out under her touch and meekly smiled. "There."

Looking behind her, she found one of the rags she'd pulled out of her saddle bag earlier. She picked it up and wiped the excess cream off of her hand.

"That's not what I meant...."

She turned to face him again, her black hair swinging over her shoulders. "What?"

Ares looked at the ground and ran his hands through the dirt. "Xena... just walk away. This isn't about you. You shouldn't get involved."

Her eyebrows came to a point and she shook her head incredulously. This was not something she expected to hear from him. Again, she always saw Ares as an opportunist. Why wouldn't he want her help now? After all the years, the schemes for conquest and glory to suit his own purposes, he seemed content in defeat.

The last time she'd seen him he had surprised her as well. While he was still cocky and admittedly arrogant, Ares had done something that Xena never thought him capable of. He'd done something selflessly.

All of Olympus had sought her daughter's death. It was her daughter, Eve, that was to bring about the fall of the pantheon's reign. They nearly succeeded in destroying her and thus, continuing their order, but... it was Ares who changed the course of immortals and mortals alike.

Athena had Xena where she wanted her. Eve was nearly dead, as well as Gabrielle. Both mortal women bled pools upon the marble floor of Olympus. It was Eve's death that would end the threat to the pantheon and it was nearly at hand.

If Ares had simply stayed back, the prophecy would have been abolished, his reign secure. Power, which he so desperately desired, would be his for eternity. Yet, seeing Athena poised to bring her sword down upon Xena, for once in his immortal life, he realized that all that Olympus had to offer, all of the power, the majesty, a never-ending life of luxury and extravagant splendor--all of this was not worth losing the one being he'd ever claimed to love.

Bound by chains of Hephaestus, he did the only thing he could. He dragged himself toward the fallen bodies of Eve and Gabrielle and, without Athena's consent, he healed them. There was only one way to do so without his sister's approval.

Ares gave up his immortality, condemning Olympus to ruin.

Now, here was this same being, no longer invincible to mortal pains and woes. Xena looked over his body, wracked with wounds, bruises, broken and bleeding.

He'd just told her that she shouldn't get involved, that this wasn't her concern. She closed her eyes tightly and bowed her head.

Ares and Xena had a long history together. They had been many things to each other over the years: mentor and student, compatriots, lovers, enemies. After all of it, they still had a bond that was so strong, that no matter how awful the circumstances, she couldn't deny that a part of her relied on him for something. What that something was, she wasn't quite sure of, but she knew she couldn't just walk away.

Xena bit her lip and handed him the water skin. "Stop talking nonsense and drink."

He took it and raised his other hand in an attempt to object. "No, Xena- just leave me, get yourself out of-"

She at him stoically and stood. "I'm not going anywhere."

***********************************************************

In the throne room of the Spartan palace, King Menelaus sat. Within his right hand he gripped a silver goblet, the other propped his old head up, and the fingers rubbed against his grayed temple. Old faded eyes looked around the dimly lit room. The torches remained unlit. Just a few mere candles offered illumination.

Their light danced over the walls, making visible ornate decorations. Tapestries depicting the Trojan War lined them. These were spaced out by worn weapons, nicked swords and dented shields which had been salvaged from the war itself. To the throne's right was a rather large marble sculpture that towered over the jewel encrusted chair. It was a representation of the horse that had garnered Sparta victory over Troy.

Behind where the king sat in deep contemplation, was yet another tapestry. It was masterfully woven with all the colors of the spectrum. Metallic-like threads worked their way through each section of it, combining into a glorious depiction of the king in his youth, leading the Spartans to battle, his sword raised skyward.

Lining the top of this was Greek lettering, which stated: "In ourselves, we sought glory. In the king we found victory."

For nearly three decades these were the only things Menelaus concerned himself with. Truth be told, he was obsessed. Each year he'd commission a new work to be created, a new tapestry to be woven, and each time it was ordered to serve as yet another reminder of the battle at Troy.

The concept of the entire situation intrigued him and at times, he thought himself haunted by it. He had married Helen as a young man just ascending to the sovereign crown. Her beauty had possessed him, for he denied any announcements of true adoration for her. Just as these works of art sat about his throne room, he saw her as merely another acquisition.

Menelaus lifted the goblet to his lips. It lingered there as he stared off into nothing, the candle light flickering off the jeweled rings that adorned his fingers. The scent of fermented liquid filled his nose and slowly, he raised the cup. The sweet sensation of the wine running down his throat brought back more bitter memories.

Years ago he lost Helen. She'd become enamored with Paris of Troy and indulged in the affair, ultimately running off with the handsome man who had captured her heart.

Thus, the war had started, fueled by jealous revenge. Menelaus had told his people half-truths. He convinced them that Troy was a threat to their security, their homes, their way of life. Had they known they were spiraling into economic turmoil brought on by his lust for a woman, Sparta would have been enraged.

But, they didn't know.

Even now, thirty years later, they believed this lie and the image of himself that he'd conjured produced nothing but adoration for their leader. They saw him as a war hero, a true man of the people willing to step his own regal feet upon muddied soil in an effort to secure their majesty.

Menelaus came back, claiming ultimate victory over Troy. His exploits on their territories were documented as one of the greatest triumphs their people had ever known. The truth was, to the sovereign himself, he'd suffered the ultimate defeat.

For ten years this war had raged on. So many had perished, yet he could not repossess the one thing he truly desired. He'd sought to bring back the woman who had captured every waking thought, each breath and came back empty handed. For this bittersweet conquest, he blamed the personification of war.

A candle burned brightly to his right. He grimaced watching the flame dance upon the wax. It was as if this bright heat taunted him, never wavering beneath his imposing stare. Lazily he ran the tips of his fingers through the searing flame, watching intently as it parted and climbed the sides. Menelaus flared his nostrils and with a pinch of his fingers, he diffused the flame, sneering as the smoke rose from under them.

Hearing the echo of footsteps upon the stone floor, prompted the king to look up expectantly. He indulged in another wave of sweet wine and set the goblet down on the arm of the throne as he sat up.

Shadows shrouded the visitor's face, yet he knew who it was. White silken material clung to the form, the light from other candles dancing off of the soft contours of womanly bosom. She walked toward one of the flames, and picked up the candle. Hot wax ran down and over her fingers causing a slight grimace, but she continued forward.

Menelaus watched as she came toward him, the candle in her hand now illuminating her delicate features. Her long brown hair, which was streaked with gray, was pulled behind her back and bound neatly with a thread of silver ribbon. Curled tendrils framed her face.

She pulled a strand of hair from her full lips as she leaned down to the extinguished candle that sat to the right of the king and lit it with her own. Upon doing so, she sat hers in an empty candle holder that was adjacent.

He stared on with dismay as she did this. He'd wanted that candle out for a reason. Shaking his head in annoyance he resumed his drinking, taking in large gulps of the substance. As the wine raced down his palate it triggered a cough.

With a graceful hand she attempted to assist him. Menelaus hunched over and began coughing to the wayside, but caught her by the wrist and thrust it back. "I don't need your help!"

She bowed her head as the words stung her. Her name was Taris. Sparta had been her home all forty-two years of her life. She had been a mere child throughout the duration of the Trojan wars. She was the daughter of a Spartan noble and upon her twentieth birthday had been notified of the king's desire to wed.

The betrothal had come as a surprise. Taris had been deeply in love with a boy she'd grown-up with. However, her father would not permit her to deny this invitation to become Queen of Sparta and soon she and Menelaus were married.

She thought, perhaps, over time, they'd come to feel for one another. She thought they'd learn about each other's interests and aspirations. Finding this to be false had snuffed out so much joy in her life. She felt as though she was nothing more than yet another acquisition.

He'd always been cold to her. It was like she was married to a stranger. Never did he afford her the simple pleasantries of polite conversation. Not once had he uttered words of adoration or genuine interest. Every touch was cold and unfeeling. They went through the motions. There was no emotional attachment. It was a marriage simply for show.

Yet, for some reason, she still attempted to be kind and concerned and this was her reward. Taris raised a hand to her wrist, rubbing at it and lowering her head. She swallowed hard and finally looked up at him, her green eyes reflecting her mood.

He sat upon his throne, a hand raised to his brow, scowling and looking away at nothing.

"I was only trying to help you," Taris finally muttered out.

"I do not need nor do I want your help."

Again, she bowed her head. She couldn't understand why he couldn't treat her in private the way he led those to believe he did in public. He was a fine showman. Lies sprung from his lips as though they were the purest of truths.

Her eyes raked over him. He was inebriated. This wasn't new. Every night he'd drink, wallowing in memoirs from the past. She pursed her lips together and lifted her chin. She'd had it with his indifference.

"Why do you treat me this way? What have I ever done to you that in return I'm nothing but an after thought?!" She placed her hands upon her hips, awaiting his answer.

He began to deeply laugh at this spark of courage, mocking her. The reverberations again induced a sporadic cough, but he continued to chuckle in response to her pleading questions. "What have you ever done to warrant my respect?" He began to laugh again as he reached for the flask of wine to refill the goblet.

These words cut deep into her. She'd given up true love for this man and now he mocked her. It was utterly demeaning in every sense of the word. She shook her head with a disgusted look and swiped the flask away. It fell the floor in an unnerving crash, the wine spilling out all over the stone floor.

Taris' mouth dropped open, realizing what she'd done. She knew he had a temper and when Taris looked back at him, Menelaus' face became snarled in rage. "You impudent, BITCH!!!"

He leapt from his chair and pushed her against the large marble horse. The hot air from his exacerbated lungs spilled out over her face. She leaned her head back trying to escape the look he dug into her with, but her wrists were pinned under his constricting grip above her head. Tears began to well in her eyes as she began to shake her head. She was truly frightened. He looked like a man on the brink of insanity and perhaps he was.

"Please! I'm sorry!! Let me go," she cried out, pushing against him with her torso.

He sneered in her face. He didn't care that she felt fearful of him. "You are worthless!! You should feel grateful to me for making you a queen and all you do is whine, you bitch! What kind of woman are you anyway," he spat out with vengeful, searing words. Menelaus ran a hand down to her pouting belly, shaking and pushing into it as he spewed again, "You couldn't even produce me an heir!!!"

Taris' eyes closed as the tears began to fall from her face. Her lips were curled in pain. Menelaus continued to sneer before forcefully letting go of her wrists and returning to his throne, a bored look on his weathered face.

She fell the ground in a sobbing heap. Tears streamed from her face and her nose ran. "You MONSTER," she cried out through the racking spasms in her chest as another onslaught of sobs caught at her throat. Her hands clutched the white silk of her gown, pulling the garment up while she stood. Her green eyes were reddened from burning tears which gleamed in the candlelight. She took a hand and wiped them away all the while staring at the heartless man before her. "You're PATHETIC!! You pine away all your days for something you were never able to possess!!!"

Menelaus' eyes grew dark. He lunged at her and with a forceful swipe, backhanded Taris across the face. Her head whipped to the side from the impact and when it came back around, a small trail of blood started to run from her lip. "You son of a bitch," she breathed out.

Her hand went to her face to block any further strikes, but before he could attack her again, the sound of footsteps nearing stopped him in his tracks. The shadowed form of a guard came into sight. Taris looked from man to man and with a stifled sob she ran from the room, her white gown trailing behind her.

Menelaus bit at his lip and looked at the approaching figure. His mind was already absent of any matters concerning his wife. He turned back to the throne and sat, rubbing the sides of his face with his hands.

"Has the group you sent out returned yet?"

The brawny man was dressed in armor. His helmet was cradled under his arm and a hand sat on the hilt of his sword. He bowed in recognition before standing tall once more and answering the question. "No, they have not, your sire."

The king let an exasperated growl exit his lips and slammed his fist upon the arm of his throne. His fingers began to tap upon the surface as he leaned back and closed his eyes, bobbing his head back and forth across the jewel encrusted surface. "It's still early yet. The pass at Therapne? Has word been sent?"

"Yes, your sire. They sent word back as well stating that they'll keep their eyes out." The young man's eyes fell upon the remnants of the shattered flask which were scattered across the floor. He figured that, yet again, the king of Sparta was drunk. Turning his attention back toward the imposing man, he asked, "Would you like me to get someone to clean that up for you, King Menelaus?"

The old man lowered his head and looked down, a small chuckle crossing his lips. "Oh, that. Yes, and while you're at it--tell them to bring me more wine."

***********************************************************

The moon was high in the sky. Its illumination fell in glorious streams of blue light across the countryside. A fine mist of fog layered the ground, swirling around the fetlocks of the two horses walking steadily along an unbeaten path. The sound of their hooves striking the ground was soothing in its rhythmic beat.

Crickets also chimed into the melody, rubbing their wings and singing songs known only to them. Above, in the dense foliage of trees, nocturnal birds joined in the choir.

Gabrielle smiled a little, letting her mind be eased by the playful chorus. Her green eyes took in the surroundings and the sweet smell of jasmine that wafted through the air.

"What a beautiful place."

The warrioress, walking between the horses, glanced up and quietly nodded her head.

Ares sat atop Xena's horse. After a long day's ride, she chose to lessen her mare's burden and walk instead. Xena looked up at him. That same sad countenance was all she saw. She could completely understand why, yet it was still so unsettling.

He had been incredibly weak from dehydration, so much so, that he had nearly fainted earlier. She had since made sure that he continued to drink plenty of water. Ares' chest would need to remain bound and the lacerations that littered his back would be tended to as soon as they reached the storage shelter.

She knew the worst of the wounds were not of the physical kind.

Ares was right. He had lost everything, including his status and family. No one seemed to know what had actually happened to Aphrodite. The last time she had been seen was after bringing the Warrior Princess to Olympus. Ares didn't know what had befallen his sister even, but right now, his mind was too tired to think about it. He had lost so much, and after spending months in Sparta's jail... beaten, starved, and isolated... he seemed to have also lost himself.

Xena swallowed back as her mind wrapped around this. Her lips pursed in thought, she stared up at him again.

He pulled the horse to a halt and grimaced as the animal obeyed. The bandages on his ribs only constricted their movement so much.

Xena cocked her head. "Something wrong?"

He raised a finger to his lips and rolled his eyes to the right. After holding this pose for a few moments, he lowered his hand and shook his head. "I thought I heard something. I guess I was wrong."

Gabrielle and Xena exchanged glances and the warrioress suddenly turned around, pulling her sword from its scabbard. Her blue eyes pierced through under her lashes, a smirk of anticipation crawling across her lips.

Gabrielle's brows lowered. She leaned forward in her saddle and quietly asked, "What is it?"

Xena didn't turn to look at her, but merely raised a hand, signaling her to remain silent. The crack of a tree limb suddenly came from the right. All eyes peered in its direction wearily.

Ares dismounted from Xena's mare and looped the reins around a branch. Clutching his chest he bent down and picked up a large, fallen, tree limb and grasped it firmly in his hand.

Xena turned around, her black hair falling over her shoulders, and signaled for Gabrielle to dismount. The bard did so, also throwing the length of her reins around a nearby branch. She pulled her sais from her boots and with an opened mouth, quietly walked toward Xena.

"What is it?"

"Three to the right, two to the left," the warrioress whispered.

Ares walked up to the pair. His deep brown eyes jetted back and forth waiting for the oncoming attack. Xena put a hand on his shoulder and pointed toward the horses, silently telling him to get back.

Although his condition was poor, he stood his ground. He shook his head at her defiantly, and before she could protest another twig snapped. All three immediately stood back to back.

Xena looked over her shoulder. "Get ready."

It was then, that over the sounds of the night, the breaking of limbs and crushing of leaves could be heard. It was, no doubt, the intruders. This was confirmed when three armored Spartans jumped out of the bushes with their swords drawn.

Xena immediately went to action. The first man that came for her left his midsection completely vulnerable in his over-zealous pursuit. As he ran at her, yelling in an attempt to up the fear factor, he held his sword high above his head. Xena simply raised her own and thrust it into the soldier's gullet. He fell to the ground lifelessly.

Ares saw the sword roll from the dead man's grasp. He dropped the tree limb and with a kick of his foot, launched the weapon into his hand. The hilt was weighted due to the ornamentation, but he quickly became accustomed to it. Closing his eyes briefly as a tinge of pain shot through him, Ares went into battle stance waiting for the chance to attack. The other two soldiers, however, had made their way toward the bard.

Foolishly seeing her as an easy target, one man dipped his sword at her knees, a move intercepted by the sturdy steel prongs of the sai in her left hand. She jerked her hand upward, causing his arm to fly back, leaving him open. With a quick jab, brought up under the armor that concealed his abdomen, the sharp spike impaled the soft flesh of the soldier's stomach.

Gabrielle felt the warm blood begin to pour over her clenched fingers. She wrenched her hand away, the sai dripping with the slick liquid. The regret of what she'd done began to wash over her, and before she could reckon with it, the next man was upon her. With a foul swoop of his arm he threw her backward and to the ground.

She stared up at him, fear piercing through her green eyes. His face was contorted with rage, his sword held firm between two hands ready to strike. Her mouth fell open as she waited for it to come down, when suddenly, the expression on his face turned to that of shock. She looked on confusedly as he clutched his chest and turned around.

It was then that the bard's questioning gaze was answered as she saw a sword stuck in his back. Xena's hands were upon the hilt, her lips pulled down in a disgusted sneer, nostrils slightly flared. The warrioress placed a foot on his backside and kicked him down while she pulled her sword out.

"Are you alright," Xena questioned.

Gabrielle nodded and got to her feet. "Sorry, I froze for a second."

Xena's back was turned. One of the Spartans saw this as an opportunity and raced from the bushes. Ares darted toward her, feeling the sharp twigs below dig into his feet, and pushed her out of the way just as the enemy would have struck. The soldier's sword came down forcefully as Ares thrust his upward, bending one knee to the ground, grinding his teeth in pain as his ribs expanded. The clashing swords sparked in a dazzling fusion.

Xena watched on in shock.

Bending his arm, Ares elbowed the Spartan at the waist, causing the man to take a step back. It was a movement countered instantly as the soldier charged again. Ares got to his feet just in time to block an attack coming in toward his neck. Again, the clanging metal resonated. His nemesis began to exert pressure, forcing the ex-Olympian backward. Ares clenched his jaw as his insides began to ache from the strain. The overbearing man began to smile as he felt victory at hand. It was a short satisfaction, however, for with a swipe of his leg, Ares tripped him.

The Spartan fell to the ground clumsily. His weapon fell under the leaves. Frantically, he tried to feel for it, squirming backwards as the dark figure approached. His attempts were in vain. With a glaring look of despise, Ares brought his sword down with as much strength as he could muster, twisting it as it hit its mark.

Ares' hands remained on the hilt as he breathed out in exasperation over the man's dead body. The lids of his eyes began to come down, squeezing shut tightly as a wave of pain washed over him. The fight had exacerbated his injuries, causing him to draw a sharp intake of air as he stood upright.

Xena crossed her arms and walked over to him, her lips pursed as she shook her head. "What do you think you were doing?"

"Your back was turned. You didn't see him coming."

Laboredly breathing, he looked around at the four dead men who were strewn about the leaves of the forest floor. His eyes squinted as pain shot up through his sides, momentarily causing him to bend over until it subsided.

Again, Xena shook her head. "I would have handled it. You're in no shape to-"

"There's still one more." Ares pointed around at the bodies as he pulled the sword from the one he had dispatched.

She looked around. He was right. She had sensed five men, and yet there were only four bodies. Fights such as these could be disorienting, and she hadn’t realized that one man still lurked in the dark.

"You're right."

Her blue eyes scanned the area. It was dimly lit, save for the blue light of the moon which fell to earth in waves of splendor. Xena cocked her head and listened for any movement. All remained silent, other than the soft humming of crickets. The warrior wasn't convinced, though. Once again, she pulled her sword from its scabbard and waited.

Gabrielle walked over, putting her sais back within the straps of her boots, and silently waited as well. There was a sudden swooping noise as something large came flying out from a nearby bush, buzzing past the bard's head and causing her to jump. This spurt of fear may have been misplaced for it had been just a bat, but no sooner did she realize this, than the remaining soldier darted out from the foliage.

Xena raised her sword as he stood clear of the bushes. The soldier looked the group over. The Spartan then saw the bodies of his dead compatriots. He did the calculations and instead of testing his skill against them, he opted to run.

Xena sneered as the man began to take off down the dark path and reached for her chakram. "Oh, you don't get away that easy."

Ares looked over at her. Her black hair fell about her face. Her chin was lowered down, her eyes up. She was a sight to behold. He waited and watched as her muscles began to tense. Xena's intentions were clear.

Her arm curled back as she prepared to throw the weapon. Abruptly, Gabrielle grabbed her around the joint of the elbow, ceasing her movement. Xena looked at her incredulously. "What are you doing?!"

The warrioress jerked her arm away and launched the disc past the fleeing man. It hit a tree and ricocheted back toward him. He could hear the whirring noise it made and stopped in his tracks, frozen by fear of the unknown. It dug in and spun off his jugular, making a grotesque sound. Disbelievingly, his hands came up to his neck and clutched the wound as he fell to his knees. The Spartan could feel the hot liquid pour down over his hands and emitted a gurgle before falling face down to the ground.

The chakram returned to Xena's hand in a slick jerk. She frowned and pursed her lips before turning her attention to the fallen Spartan soldiers which littered the ground where they stood.

"This one looks like he's the same shoe size," Xena stated as she placed the chakram back on its clasp and knelt down by one of the men.

Ares' was still staring at the man who had just attempted to flee. He took a step back and, finally, turned his attention to where Xena directed. He knew what she was implying. The bottoms of his feet ached from being bare for so long under such poor conditions, and so, he simply nodded.

He felt a pang of human remorse. Somehow, it simply felt wrong to be taking a soldier's gear from his dead body. Though Ares was never one to employ a strict code of honor, he didn't want to do this. It just didn't seem morally right, but given the present situation, it was something he had to do.

"Alright, I'll get the right boot, you get the left," he wearily muttered.

Gabrielle was still in shock over what she'd just witnessed. Her mouth hung open, her eyes were wide. She stared down at the warrioress who busily tugged on a boot. "Xena?!"

She looked up as she continued to slide the boot off of the fallen soldier and stuck out her jaw before looking away again. She knew what was on her friend's mind. In all their years of traveling together, Gabrielle had never witnessed, with her own eyes, Xena kill someone in cold blood.

Xena looked at Ares, whose expression was still sullen, and offered the boot. He reached over and took it from her. He had just pulled the other off as well, and began to slide them on, his eyes glued to her in anticipation of what her response would be.

"It had to be done, Gabrielle." She stood up and walked over to her mare, pulling her water skin and a cloth from the saddle bag. Xena drank deeply before continuing, "had he gotten ba-"

The bard, who had followed close behind, shot a hand up, and cut her off. "NO, you did NOT need to do that! You could have tied him to a tree, brought him with us-"

"Had he gotten BACK to Sparta- there would be no chance of getting out of here. I wasn't about to gamble on it! I don't know what we're going to do yet and the LAST thing we need is another, bigger, more equipped search party after us! I did the ONLY thing I could do!" Xena's eyes softened and she put a hand on her friend's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell."

Gabrielle nodded and looked down. "Yeah, I know, it's ok. It's just that-"

"Your heart is in the right place. Unfortunately, there was no other way around it. Your opinion does matter to me, but I need to do this my way." Xena meekly smiled and walked away.

The bard breathed in and looked down at her palms. She closed her eyes to the sight of them before turning to her own horse. She opened her saddle bag and pulled out a cloth. Wiping it diligently over her hands, she sighed.

Xena had since walked over to where Ares was now, slowly, standing up. His jaw clenched as he moved into the upright position. She extended her arm to him, offering the water skin.

"Here. You almost fainted earlier today due to dehydration. Drink up."

He looked up at her and took it, tipping his head in thanks. The cool water felt so good running down his throat. Satisfied, he put the cap on and handed it back to her. "Thank you." He stifled a cough and looked away.

She watched him stand there, desperately trying to come off like nothing was wrong. She knew otherwise, however. Not much had changed in the few hours they'd been traveling together and although he attempted to conceal it, she could see that he was very weak and in a great deal of pain. Each movement he made that was too abrupt was followed by a brief wince. She couldn't fathom how he could put up such a strong front or how he'd put up such a strong fight for that matter. She figured it was adrenaline induced and that, very soon, he'd realize what a mistake it'd been for him to jump in.

She tilted her head as she ran her eyes over him. "You shouldn't have fought, Ares. I could have handled it."

Ares bowed his head and breathed out. "You shouldn't be handling any of it at all." He stared deep into her eyes and tried to convince her. "I'm asking you, again, to leave this matter be. There's no need for you to get involved."

She looked him straight in the eye and extended her chin. "It's my choice, and it's been made."

***********************************************************

It had merely been less than half an hour as a great ridge came into view. The uplifted earth was not only wide, but long as well. A deep valley sat at the center of it, for it circumferenced the entire area. It was plain to see why Xena had chosen this particular spot to set up war party tents back in her warlord days. The impressive ridge served as an excellent cover. It was steep enough that, from the flat plains, the valley below was virtually invisible.

Nearing the rather arduous terrain, Xena brought her mare to a halt. "Alright, we're going to have to get off the horses and lead them down the trail. It's too steep to ride down."

All three dismounted into the tall weeds below. Now walking, they began to cautiously make their way down the incline. The trail, was in fact, no trail at all. At least, no longer. Days long ago, there had been a fairly wide dirt path that spanned from the top crest of the ridge into the valley, but since then, the weeds and grass had consumed it, leaving nothing to gauge the area with other than cautiously made steps. Ares' eyes remained focused on the tops of the weeds as they brushed against his waist and across the palms of his hands.

The horses were vigilant as they felt the earth continuously descend with each step. The mare stopped and snorted. "Easy girl. C'mon. Nothing to be scared of." Xena gently tapped the horse on her shoulder to get her to continue. The animal did not oblige. Ares stopped and waited for the procession to proceed. Again, the warrioress tapped on her shoulder in an attempt to get her moving and still she refused, pulling back on the reins.

Gabrielle looked over, stopping her own horse. "She scared?"

Xena clicked her tongue against her teeth and bobbed her head. "Yeah." She patted the mare's flank. "Listen, you should keep moving. I don't want your horse to get wary as well. Keep him moving. I'll get her down. Don't worry."

"Alright. Soo, just wait for you at the bottom then?" Gabrielle ran a hand over her gelding's neck as he set his muzzle down into the weeds, pulling a mouthful of them up from the ground.

"Yes, but be careful on your way down." The mare squealed again and jerked her head. This motion caused the slack of the reins to tighten, pulling Xena's arm up. "WHOA! Easy!" She grit her teeth and called over her shoulder, "Gabrielle, you better start going."

"Alright, see you at the bottom." Gabrielle looked back at her horse and quietly asked him to go, which he did, but not before ripping another mouthful of tall grass from the ground. Their forms eventually disappeared over the next slope.

Xena looked over at Ares, who was standing close to the mare. The animal continued to fidget and pull back on the reins, jerking Xena's arms this way and that. "Watch out!"

He side-stepped out of the way as the horse swerved. Placing a hand on the mare's shoulder he tried to calm her down. "Easy. Eaaaaaasy." He squinted as a slight tinge of pain shot up his sides. "Remember, she's not Argo. Just be patient with her."

Again, the young mare began to prance, whipping her tail around in frustration. She began pawing at the ground with a foreleg, snorting all the while. Xena kept a firm hand on the reins and glanced over at Ares. "Well, what do you suggest?"

The question was more rhetorical than anything else, so it came as a surprise when he walked up to her and replied, "Hand me the reins."

"Are you nuts?! She's jerking me all over the place! What do you think that's going to do to your injuries?!"

He extended a hand and lowered his chin. "Trust me. Just hand me the reins. We'll get her down."

Xena's stumbled as the mare tossed her head again. The warrior grunted and breathed out forcefully. "No, it's too dangerous."

Ares put one hand over her wrist and looked her straight in the eye as he placed the other upon the reins. "Trust me. Please."

She pushed out her jaw and bit her lip. "Alright...but don't say I didn't warn you."

She let her muscles loosen, fingers unclench, and dropped the reins into his hand. Xena took a few steps back, crossed her arms and tilted her head, waiting to see just what Ares was intending to do.

He kept a loose grip on the reins and ran a hand down the mare's neck. "Easy girl. It's alright. No rush. Just take a look around."

He continued to pet the horse. Her nostrils, which had been completely flared, were starting to slowly retract. She looked out into the night, taking in her surroundings. Her tail sporadically swished and her back legs kicked off pesky flies, but other than that, she stood still.

Xena's brows raised whilst watching the display. It was truly a sight to see. The calming affect he had on the horse was unexpected. He was the personification of war itself and here he now was, tempering a timid animal.

"What's her name, Xena?" Ares looked questioningly up at her as he ran a hand along the bridge of the horse's nose.

The warrioress' mouth twisted to the side and she looked down as she raised a hand to her black locks and scratched her head. "Well, to tell you the truth, with all of Olympus after me, I didn't really get a chance to pick out a name."

Hearing Olympus mentioned, he looked away. With a matter-of-factly tone he simply replied, "You should pick one out soon, then."

"Oh, I-" Way to go Xena...open mouth, insert boot. "I didn't mean to bring up any bad memories."

"No, it's alright. Just forget about it." Ares' ears picked up the sound of grass being uprooted. Both he and Xena looked back toward the horse who, by now, felt comfortable enough to graze on the long stems.

"Well, would you look at that."

"Yeah, I told you. All she needed was time. She's never had to do something like this before. She just needed us to be patient while getting a hold of the situation. She needed time to realize that there was really nothing to be scared of in the first place."

"I suppose I wasn't helping by trying to make her."

Ares continued to rub the mare's face. "While we might have known that there was no reason for her to get scared, it didn't erase the fact that she felt that way. She just wanted to look before she leapt...so to speak."

She walked over to him, placing an hand on the mare's shoulder, and smiled. "I never pegged you as someone who knew so much about horses."

He looked back at her and cocked his head to the side. "I don't." He turned around again and started to walk down the hill, the mare following behind.

Xena's mouth hung open, her brows furrowed and lips pursed as she, too, proceeded.

The distance to the bottom was not much further. They made their way down the rest of the ridge in silence.

Gabrielle and her gelding were already there as expected. The bard's horse was happily indulging his hunger on the lush grass that blanketed the valley's floor, swishing his tail lazily back and forth. Gabrielle was a bit shocked when she turned around.

"Umm...she alright now, Xena?"

She smiled and exchanged a brief look with Ares as he handed over the reins. "Yeah..she's fine."

"Alllllright..." Gabrielle was addled, but thought it best not to question how they managed to bring the horse down. Instead, she scanned the barren field and posed a different, more pertinent question. "So, where's this shelter?"

Xena smirked. "Follow me."

The group walked to the eastern end of the valley. At a lone tree, the -only- tree, the warrior stopped and turned around. She saw the confused look on Gabrielle's face and snickered.

"There's more here than meets the eye..but first--lets unsaddle the horses. They won't run off- not with the steep bordering ridge, and this is good grass for them to graze on." Xena turned to Ares. "You want to hold on to my horse while I unsaddle her?"

"Sure."

"Good. Here ya go." She tossed the reins over to him as she made her way the girth of the saddle and unclasped the buckles. She shot him a coy look while she pulled the item off the horse and placed it on the ground next to a rather peculiar mass of tangled brush.

"Alright, you can take her bridle off."

Ares cocked a brow. "I can't say I've ever done that before."

"Just unbuckle the clasps at her throat and under her jaw. Then, slide the headstall over her ears." Xena stepped forward, crossed her arms and watched on. Her face was stoic, but inside she watched on amused.

"Alright. So, I unbuckle those leather straps and then pull it off..." Ares unbuckled the throat latch and the noseband that wrapped round her jaw. When he raised his arms to slide off the headstall, however, he stopped mid-stretch and grimaced.

Xena's eyes flickered back and forth as she realized that she'd asked a bit too much of him in his present condition. He'd already strained the wounds during the fight. She shook her head and walked up to the mare's head and pulled down the bridle. Upon being released, the horse walked off to go graze.

Xena looked Ares over and lowered her eyes. "I wasn't thinking. You're in no shape to be reaching and lifting like that."

He pressed his lips together and breathed out. Although he wouldn't say it, he was embarrassed. He had been the successor to Olympus and now, here he was, unable to remove a bridle from a horse. The only reason he had the ability to withstand the fight earlier was the adrenaline factor, something he'd never experienced before. The exacerbation from the fight had left a lot of his injuries numbed, but now, the throbbing pain was starting to resurface and it felt almost twice as painful as before.

He sighed to himself. At least he didn't necessarily feel -weak- anymore. That had been induced from dehydration, something that the ever constant water consumption had remedied. He closed his eyes, ran a hand over the side of his face, and slightly shrugged. Ares turned and walked to the tree and leaned against it, letting out a deep sigh.

Xena remained standing in place, the bridle still in her hands, but her gaze had followed him. She parted her mouth as though there was something she wanted to say, something that would, perhaps, acknowledge that she understood, but nothing came out.

Meanwhile, Gabrielle had released her horse and now moved to join her friend. She dumped her gear on the ground and looked up. The expression on Xena's face prompted her to raise questioning brows.

She turned to see what her friend was staring at, and realizing it was Ares, she turned back and asked, "Everything ok?"

Her blue eyes were downcast and she shrugged her shoulders while shaking her head. "I don't know.." She shook the feeling and lifted her gaze. "Listen, we should head into the shelter now. I need to tend to those lacerations on his back."

"Well, getting into the shelter is a good idea...but...um..where exactly is it?"

Xena looked down and smirked. "You're standing on it, Gabrielle."

The bard's face scrunched up as she looked down at where she stood. She stomped her foot on the surface and her eyes snapped up in surprise as a metallic sound echoed from below. "Underground?!"

"That's right."

Xena smiled and directed her friend off of the spot. She squatted down and began to pull up all the overgrown brush that concealed the entrance. A metal hatch became visible. She wiped away a thin layer of dirt and looked up. "Alright, help me open it."

Both women grabbed ahold of a rather large latch and pulled with all of their might. Gabrielle's teeth bared down and she looked bemusedly at Xena. "A little much, don't you think?"

"Naww, I like top notch security. Besides, it's not the weight of the door. It just feels like it's heavy because it hasn't been opened in over thirty or so years."

The bard rolled her eyes at this quip and continued to pull. This caused Xena to chuckle between her gritted teeth.

From the tree, Ares looked on, feeling helpless. He hated this tormenting feeling. Never had he experienced the need to rely on someone else's help in this way. He had once been so powerful and now he watched on as Xena pulled against the embedded entrance to the shelter, and this was all he could do. He turned his head away. Tearing a piece of bark from the tree, he began to pick at it to ease his frustration.

"Here it comes! I feel it loosening," Xena stated.

With one more spurt of tugging, the hatch popped open. Gabrielle held on for too long, so, as the entrance gave way, she flew backward, landing on her bum.

Xena lowered a hand and helped her up. "Nice going."

The bard couldn't help but laugh at herself. She giggled and made a face. "Yeah, well it's nice to know that after all the changes over the past years, I still retained my clumsiness." She shook out another laugh and grabbed her satchel from the ground.

Picking up her own gear, Xena looked at Ares. "You coming? Those wounds need tending to."

He dropped the piece of bark and bobbed his head. "Yeah." He walked over to where the two woman stood and looked down into the newly revealed hole. The moon's light did not offer enough illumination of the recesses. He cocked a brow. "Are those steps?"

Xena nodded. "Yes, it scales straight down. There's -if I remember right- ten steps. Let me go down first. There should be some lanterns and then you'll be able to see."

She opened her satchel, pulled out two flint rocks and flashed an all-knowing smile before descending down the stairwell. Engulfed in complete darkness, she felt along the left wall as she reached the bottom. The smell of mold and dust filled her nose. Her hands felt their way across a wooden shelf. The dust was thick and she could feel the substance coat her fingers as she dragged them along, but, once she found the base of a lantern, she smiled to herself. Having removed the glass, Xena took one of the flint rocks that had been clutched in her right hand and slammed it against the other over the oil saturated wick. It immediately ignited, providing a playful flame. She placed the glass over it and went back to the base of the stairs.

"Alright. Can you see now?"

Ares peered down. "Yeah." He slowly squatted at the entrance, placing one foot upon the first step and eased his way into the hole. As he reached the bottom Xena extended a hand to him, but he refused to take it. "Thanks, but I got it."

She pursed her lips. "Alright.." Once he was clear of the stairs Xena shouted back up, "Ok, Gabrielle. Shut the hatch on your way down, but be careful!"

"No problem." The bard lowered herself in. One hand on the inner latch of the hatch, the other upon the rail of the stairs, she made her way down and closed it behind her. At the bottom of the well, Gabrielle brushed the dirt off her hands and looked at Xena. "Now what?"

The warrior handed her the lantern. "Hold on to that while I light two more."

Her friend did as asked and held the object up as she looked around her new surroundings. Wooden shelves lined both sides of the wall. Upon them, were a few unlit lanterns, two of which Xena had pulled forward. There were also jars of what looked to be medicinal creams, oils, and bags of herbs, some of which, the warrioress popped into her satchel. Lined on the floor were large barrels. Gabrielle lifted the lid of one and peered inside.

"Lovely, thirty year old water."

Xena chuckled. "Yeah, we'll have to boil it before drinking." She turned around, a lit lantern in each hand. Her eyes wandered over to where Ares was. With a down-turned face he stood over a large crate filled with swords. Running his hand over the steel, he seemed deep in thought. She lowered a brow and walked toward him, holding one of the lanterns out. "Here."

Her voice snapped him out of it and he gazed at her melancholy. He took the lantern and moved his stare to the dancing flame. "Thanks."

"You alright?"

Pressing his lips together he nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Well, then, follow me." Xena walked past him into the dark corridor.

The tunnel was littered with thick cob webs. She extended her hand, swiping them from her way. The remnants clung to her fingers.

Gabrielle's eyes were open wide. When Xena had first mentioned a shelter, she had no idea it would be so spacious. She raised her brows. "This place...It's not what I expected."

Xena kept her eyes forward and continued to walk. "I'll tell you about it once we get settled in." She came to a halt where the hall came to an end and split off. There was one path that let to the left and one to the right. "Down to the right is where the food storage was and the other way is where we can set up our things. There's some cots back there, as well as reserve armor."

Gabrielle shook her head, amazed. "This is mighty impressive."

"You don't know the half of it." Xena turned and led them down the left tunnel. It opened up into a large room. The warrior set her lantern down on a nearby table, removed the glass and grabbed a torch from the wall which she lit and put back in its place. Now, the surroundings were no longer simply dimly lit.

"Alright. Here we are."

Ares looked the room over and set his lantern down. "You had big plans for Sparta, didn't you?" He took a seat on a nearby cot and leaned back against the wall it was adjacent to.

"That's an understatement." She put her gear down and took a seat in a chair that was next to the cot.

Gabrielle walked around the perimeter of the room, gazing at the reserve armor, old banners with Xena's crest embroidered upon them, items such as clean cloths, scabbards, and other weaponry. She looked on in awe and, without turning around, inquired about the extravagance of it all.

"What was this all for, Xena?"

"My ego." She faintly smirked. "Actually, the shelter was used only for supplies, cooking, and as quarters for myself and the highest ranking officers. The rest of my men camped out as normal."

The bard shot a sideways glance at her and lowered a brow. "What do you mean?"

Xena ran a hand through her dark hair, her eyes roaming the room. She breathed in and shrugged. "I had this place built while Sparta was at war in Troy. I figured it was the perfect opportunity for my men to construct such a thing without the threat of an attack by the Spartan army. I had big plans." She fiddled a moment with her chakram before continuing, "We came in under the concealment of night, worked for months undetected using the digging equipment I had used in searching for the Ixion Stone. The people of Sparta never knew about us. They were too fearful of the unknown with their army away and remained locked up within the city walls."

Gabrielle's brows furrowed and she took a seat at the table which stood in the center of the room. "I don't understand. If the army was away, why didn't you just attack then? It would have been an easy victory."

"With little profit." Xena shook her head as she continued, "You see, Menelaus had drained Sparta's resources to facilitate his war. Word had gotten round that, finally, after years of battle, the army would claim victory over Troy within a matter of months. I waited because I knew that his regiments would no longer be as imposing. They would be worn thin and weak from the war. Menelaus would bring back the spoils from Troy and that way---my profit from sacking Sparta would be doubled."

"It's still really hard for me to see you as that ruthless conqueror, Xena." Gabrielle closed her eyes and lowered her head. "So, you did all of this and never used it."

"That's right. The war had gone on longer than expected...years longer... and, as you know, by the time the final sword was dropped I-"

Ares, who had been listening intently the entire time with a despondent look on his face, cut her off, "You had met Hercules and left that life behind."

Her blue eyes washed over him. Her mouth was still parted from when he had concluded her sentence. It was a brief moment, but there was an unspoken conveyance of understanding that volleyed between the two. The connection was cut short when Ares finally tore his eyes away. She remained silent a moment longer, eyes still focused on him, before she regained her composure.

"Yes, by that time my life had changed."

Gabrielle's stomach rumbled suddenly. "We need food. You mentioned something about a place to cook down here?"

"Yeah, there's a hearth in the food preparation area. Pots, pans."

The bard looked at her incredulously. "Whoa...there's a hearth down here? What about the smoke?"

Xena smiled. "That's why there's two halls and why the right one is so long. We didn't want to send off any smoke signals. The hearth was built underneath the other side of the ridge. The ground above it is blanketed with thickly leaved trees. We built a piping system so that the smoke travels up through the ground and out over there. That way, it would be unlikely to see and, if it was, it didn't give away our location."

Gabrielle let out a large breath. "Wow, you thought of it all. Now, what about putting it to good use?"

Xena looked to Ares. "I need to take care of his injuries first. There's a lot of rabbits that make their burrows around here. I'll hunt afterward."

Again, the bard's belly protested. "Actually, Xena, I can't wait. I'll go do it, but I refuse to skin them."

The warrior chuckled. "Alright, sounds fair. You kill them. I'll skin them."

Gabrielle grabbed her satchel, swung it over her shoulder and picked up her lantern. "Ok, I'll be back as soon as possible." She smiled, made her way out of the room and back out into the corridor.

Xena opened her own satchel and pulled out the jars of medicine, oil, and herbs. She walked over to one of the shelves and pulled down a bowl which had a small mallet in it. Ares watched as she scooped out some white cream into the bowl and dumped a handful of herbs on top. With the mallet, she began to grind the two substances together. The cream changed into a rose color as the dried scented leaves were ground.

"One of your infamous poultices?"

She looked over at him and grinned. "Mmhmm. This should clean out the wound and prevent scarring."

He frowned. Ares hadn't considered that the wounds that littered his back could leave their mark. The ones on his arms were not deep and there was no threat of scarring there, this he knew. He didn't even know what the lacerations on his back looked like, though. He just knew that they were there.

Xena lifted the mallet and watched for consistency as the liquid dripped from it. "Alright, take off your shirt."

He sighed and did as asked. Removing the shirt, he grimaced as his ribs expanded upward. She walked over to the cot with the bowl and placed it beside her lap. Xena took hold of the ties of the bandages around his torso, untied them and unwrapped them. Again, her brows lowered compassionately as the wounds were revealed.

"Ok, I need you to lie on your stomach."

Ares rolled onto his belly, resting his chin on a folded sheet. Xena's eyes raked over his back. The lash marks were old, but still bloody from being irritated from the fabric having bonded to them. When Ares had taken his shirt off earlier, it had ripped many of them open again. One of the lacerations was far deeper than the rest. Xena's nose cringed as she looked it over. Whatever had been done to warrant it must have been of great disobedience.

She swallowed and looked at the back of his head. "This is going to sting."

"Alright. I'm ready when you are." He reached out and gripped the wooden boarder of the cot.

Xena dipped her hand in the cream and applied it to the first wound. Ares bit his lip as the substance was rubbed into it, cleaning it out. As she proceeded to clean the others, her mind reeled. She had never expected to see him like this. She'd never expected for him to be prone to mortal pains. He was Ares of Olympus and, because of her, he had given it all up.

She felt somewhat responsible. He'd done many horrible things in the past that she couldn't forget, but she couldn't help but think that, if only she'd offered to help him with the transition of becoming mortal, he wouldn't be in the state he was now. She shook the conflicting notions from her head and continued.

Each wound she cleaned out thoroughly. The white cream rubbed in transparent and smooth which was good, for it meant that she had mixed the concoction properly.

She worked her way to the worst one of them all. Again, she couldn't help but gather that this one was dealt out with the utmost rage. Xena dipped her hands in the solution, pulled up a handful, and eased her hand down upon the wound. Although Ares had remained quiet throughout the cleansing process, at this, his teeth bared down as he drew a sharp intake of air.

Xena bit her lip, but continued to work the creamy liquid in. It stretched diagonally across the breadth of his back, from the top of his right shoulder to his left hip. Her fingers ran across it before she spoke. "Ares, while the rest of the wounds should heal without a mark...This one is just too deep. It's going to leave a scar."

Deep brown eyes closed as he let a desolate, self-mocking chuckle cross his lips. "How fitting."

Xena was confused. "What are you talking about."

Ares titled his head to look at her. "That one was courtesy of Menelaus himself."

This was a startling confession. Kings very rarely took it upon themselves to punish their prisoners. Now, Xena knew that something must have really set the old man off to do such a thing as this. She made no secret that she wanted to know just what that 'something' was.

She finished administering the cream and set the bowl on the table. She grabbed a clean rag, wiped the remnants from her hand and returned to sit on the cot. Her blue eyes fixated on the brutal laceration. "Tell me what happened."

Ares picked at the wood railing of the cot and lowered his head. The events that had brought on Menelaus' rage were recollections that made him feel very uncomfortable. He had never wanted to be seen as a sentimental fool. Now, she was asking him to tell her the details of that day. He remembered every word spoken, every look conveyed, each moment.

Far below Sparta's royal living quarters, was what was referred to as the "pit". It was a rather small room fixed with a cell. The metal bars were lined in close proximity to one another, making for a most disconcerting space.

The rest of the room was scarce of any semblance of warmth, other than the torches that illuminated the place. It was damp. The floors were dirt, the walls built up out of ragged stones. In the corner was a small wooden table and chair, but a guard rarely sat on duty. None was necessary. The pit was essentially that, a pit of despair and isolation.

The cell itself had only one occupant. The man paced back and forth along the perimeter of bars, running his hand over the cool steel. Never had this being been confined to such a space. It was like caging a wild animal.

It had been a month since Ares had been confined here. Lack of proper food left him feeling less than up to par, yet something kept a driving force within him. This something, was rage. It boiled under his skin like a fire that would not burn out. Yet, all he could do was pace around this small area, and every now and then stare holes through the man who sat guard today.

The robust fellow on duty sat at the table with a rather amused expression on his face. He wore the Spartan uniform, the crest embossed upon the steel armor that adorned his chest. Although the only time a guard, or anyone for that matter, came to the pit, was to drop off some food and water, this particular Spartan always insisted on eating lunch in front of the prisoner.

The smell would taunt Ares' stomach, causing the hatred he felt to grow all the more for his captors. Today, the portly man indulged in a rather large piece of roasted chicken. He'd look over every now and then and comment on how good the food was.

Ares grabbed ahold of the metal bars, his knuckles turning white from gripping so hard. He stared at the guard, a look of utter disgust upon his handsome face.

The fat man chuckled, putting another piece of chicken in his gaping mouth. "You've got an important visitor today."

"Is that so, you pathetic infidel?"

The guard sneered. Grease covered his face, above his lips and even on his chin. He grabbed a wooden club and marched his portly self to the bars. He brought the weapon down on Ares' knuckles, causing him to jerk his hands back and cuss.

Pointing the club at the him, he spat, "You just watch it!" He burped, walked back to the table and resumed eating.

"Oh, I'm watching something alright. What 'it' is, I'm not real sure of as of yet." Ares cocked a brow arrogantly and sat down on the dirt floor.

The guard's name was Idious, a name that made for many a snide remark from Ares. He referred to the man as, 'Idiot' on many occasions.

It was as Idious was about to get up from his seat once more, that the sound of footsteps echoed down the torch lit stairwell. Embroidered imperial garb draped the stairs as the figure they hung from descended.

Hands clasped together at his chest, the jeweled rings bouncing off fire-light, King Menelaus came into sight. A patronizing closed smile was stretched across his face, his eyes focused at the cell before him.

Following behind the king were four armored soldiers. They piled in behind him before lining against the wall and standing at attention.

Ares sat, his jaw clenched in abhorrence. His brown eyes peered out from under black brows with gleam of hatred dotting the dark pools. This was the first time since his capture that Menelaus made move to speak with him. The entire time in the cell had been spent in solitude, save for a guard who brought water and bread.

The king made his way to the bars, lazily running a finger over the confining steel as he walked along the perimeter.

Ares stared on with his lip curled up in despise. "You can't keep me here!" He leaped from the ground and stared Menelaus down.

The old man began to deeply chuckle. "Well, looks as though I can."

"My legions will exact revenge, you old bastard!"

The king stopped his procession and flashed a sardonic grin. "Your legions? Don't you get it by now?"

Ares fumed, gripping the bars between his hands, but uttered not a word.

Menelaus continued, "They followed you for one reason, and one reason only. You had power to give them what they wanted. But alas, you gave up all that power for a woman-YOU FOOL!" The old man could see he had struck a nerve as Ares let go of the bars and took a step back. "Oh yes, the truth of your fall from Olympus is no secret. You're the laughing stock of every general, soldier and warlord who ever pledged loyalty to you. Makes one wonder... if you were that desperate for the comforts of a woman, why didn't you just pay for it?"

Ares turned his chin down and swayed his head admonishingly. "You know nothing about it!"

Menelaus was not about to back down now that he saw he was actually bruising this once imposing figure's ego. He began to laugh again and leaned his head between the bars.

"Don't presume to tell me that *love* had anything to do with it. War knows nothing of love, has no compassion, no concept of matters of the heart. Had you possessed something of that nature, Troy would have never been so hard to defeat."

Ares went to strike at the old man's face, but Menelaus pulled away from the bars just in time. "You son of a bitch! I'll bring this all down on your head, mark my words." His tone was laced with deadly intent.

The king smiled and waved a finger patronizingly in front of Ares' face. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. Such a temper. We can't have that. I think I've been a rather gracious host." Menelaus looked back toward the guard and pointed to the lock of the cell. "Go in and chain him."

Idious got up from the table, wiped his mouth on a napkin and grabbed the keys. He jostled them around between his meaty fingers, walking over to the cell with a smirk. Once the cell was unlocked, he made his way in to it, and looked up at Ares.

The former Olympian raised a brow as the fat man reached for his wrist. "I don't think so!"

Ares backhanded the guard across the face and sent him flying into the bars. The impact sent a shot of pain throughout the man's back. While he was still disoriented, Ares grabbed him by the neck. Idious' eyes grew large with fear as the former Olympian pulled him forward and spun him around, crushing his face into the metal. Ares, again, pulled him off the bars only to send Idious colliding into the cell door. The force made it shut and then open as the fat man's form slid to the ground. Ares moved to exit.

Menelaus acted immediately, signaling his soldiers to make him stand down. They circled him, swords drawn, one at his throat. Ares lifted his chin, looking down his nose at the weapon pressed to his skin.

Menelaus clapped his hands. "How impressive, but it was a rather futile move." The king looked to his men and reiterated the order, "Chain him up!"

Their swords still drawn, the men drove him back into the cell. Hanging from the ceiling on chains were two cuffs. One man on each side of him, two to the front blocking any means of escape, his wrists were bound. The distance between where each cuff dangled resulted in Ares arms being stretched outward and high above him.

It was a most uncomfortable position. The strain caused his muscles to bulge and a irritable throbbing to surface. Chest expanded, it almost made it difficult to breathe properly, causing Ares to take deep draws of air.

"You've just signed your death warrant, Menelaus!" Ares' eyes held nothing but contempt for the old man.

The king marched into the cell, parting the soldiers who stood poised to strike. He was now directly in front of Ares' towering form and cocked his head. "Is that so? How soon you forget that nobody cares what happens to you. Your power is gone, Ares, and with it, the loyalties of legions. You are nothing more than a simple mortal. No assets, no friends, no family... Which, when you really look at it, puts you in the lowest class of men." Menelaus pointed at Idious, who was still sprawled on the ground unconscious. "This simpleton ranks higher than you. Now tell me, how does that make you feel?"

Ares spit in his face. One of the soldiers rammed the hilt of a sword into his ribs for the insubordination. Feeling the pain race through him, his arms pulled at the manacles that bound him in reflex, his eyes and jaw clenching in pain.

Menelaus wiped the spit from his face and gazed at his hand. The old man raised a brow and backhanded the prisoner across the jaw. "Best you learn your place now!"

Ares head bobbed to the side and then dropped from the strike. As he lifted it back up, he smiled patronizingly, a small trickle of blood running down from the mouth.

The king flared his nostrils at the expression. "You think this is funny do you?"

"Not particularly, but they say you should try and find humor in times like these," Ares chimed in.

"Do you know what I find funny?" Menelaus drew his brows to a point.

He shook his head. "No, but I'm sure you're going to tell me."

This remark prompted the king to clench his fists and stick out his jaw. As the wave of anger began to slightly ebb, he changed his expression to one of sarcastic amusement. He clasped his hands together and smirked.

"What I find funny is your stupidity. You had it ALL, Ares! You were one with Olympus! You had all of Greece at your disposal, legions willing to raise their swords at your command! Power, luxury, comfort--all these things!! You had want for NOTHING. Ares was a name to fear!!! You had ALL this--for eternity and you gave it up for WHAT," Menelaus stopped his speech. He looked directly into Ares' enraged eyes and with the most hateful tone he could, finished the sentence. "You gave it all up for a WOMAN!"

A smile crossed the old man's lips seeing the bound man pull at the manacles upon hearing this. He chose to continue to stoke the burning rage within.

"And now look at you- a mere footnote in history. You did it all for nothing, Ares. NOTHING-for after all this-all you gave up for this mortal woman, where is she now?" Menelaus smiled with maliciously. "Not with you-that is for certain. She too, probably saw this whole overture as pathetic and is now off somewhere laughing at your stupidity and how she duped you into helping her cause."

Ares' jugular strained against his throat, teeth clenched. He struggled against the manacles, but the chains had been plated to the ceiling with over three layers of steel. Menelaus laughing in his face, he did the only thing he could do in this state. Leaning back against the support of the bonds, Ares thrust a leg upward and kicked the old man upside the head, knocking him painfully to the dirt floor.

Ares leaned forward, breathing in and out with great force. His mouth hung agape, and that handsome face was twisted with hate. "I'll KILL YOU!!!!!! Do you hear me you son of a bitch!?!?!? I'll KILL YOU!!!!"

Again, the soldiers went into action, pummeling Ares in the chest with the hilts of their swords. He could feel the pain race through his ribs and threw his head back as it washed over him.

Menelaus began to rise. One hand supporting him on the ground, he raised the other to his mouth. He pulled his fingers away to find that he had been wounded. The kick had caused one of his teeth to push through into the soft flesh of his inner lip. The old man got up from the ground, but not before pulling a whip from Idious' still unconscious form.

A burning angst in his old eyes, he stood. "GET OUT OF THE WAY!"

The king pushed the soldiers away from Ares, who by now was clenching his jaw in indescribable pain. Menelaus moved toward the back of the cell, whip in hand. He raised his arm and with all his strength, brought the coarse leather down upon Ares' back. As it connected, it sliced the shirt, digging mercilessly into the flesh. The sound was grotesque as the skin split open. Ares' head threw backward on impact, feeling the sting burn through him, but he made not a sound. The shock had stolen his breath.

Menelaus' arm came down and his hand shook violently with rage, so much so, that the whip fell from it. He took ahold of the ex-Olympian by his hair and yanked his head back. The old man's breathing was labored for he was consumed with hatred, but he managed to whisper one last sentence into Ares' ear.

"You....are.....nothing." The king threw the prisoner's head forward and walked back toward the opening to the cell. He still shook with rage as he pointed to his soldiers. "Drag Idious out of here."

Stepping over the guard's body, one of the soldiers stopped his departure. "What about him?"

He leered at Ares, who hung almost lifeless from the bonds. Menelaus flared his nostrils and extended his regal chin. "Plans are already underway. Now come on." The king turned back around and walked out of the cell with an exhausted, ragged gait.

The soldiers did as ordered and dragged Idious from the cell, locking the door behind them. They left the guard on the floor and followed their king out of the pit and up the stairs.

Ares remembered all this. He recalled the humility of the situation and now, Xena wanted to know the events of that day. She wanted to know what had brought on such wrath. Menelaus' words had stung worse than the whip ever could. He had mocked the actions that had brought about the downfall of Olympus. The old king had insisted that, for everything Ares had given up, it only resulted in painting him as a sentimental joke.

The ex-Olympian gazed at Xena as she sat on the edge of the cot waiting to hear the explanations, and Menelaus' cruel words echoed back through Ares' mind:

"You had it ALL, Ares! You were one with Olympus! You had all of Greece at your disposal, legions willing to raise their swords at your command! Power, luxury, comfort--all these things!! You had want for NOTHING. Ares was a name to fear!!! You had ALL this--for eternity and you gave it up for WHAT? You gave it all up for a WOMAN! And now look at you- a mere footnote in history. You did it all for nothing, Ares. NOTHING-for after all this-all you gave up for this mortal woman, where is she now? Not with you-that is for certain. She too, probably saw this whole overture as pathetic and is now off somewhere laughing at your stupidity and how she duped you into helping her cause."

Ares' expression turned to that of disdain. Xena's eyebrows furrowed as she tried to read him. Her head lowered as she tilted it to the side. "What is it, Ares?? What happened to you?"

He swallowed back and shakily looked away to the floor. Those words still swam over him tumultuously. Ares couldn't dare tell her. Not now, anyway. Perhaps what Menelaus had spoken was true. Perhaps, the only reason she sat here now was out of some sort of twisted pity. Ares closed his eyes trying to push these notions out of his aching head, but they resisted. He took in a deep breath of air.

"I don't want to discuss it. At least not right now, but I need to know something, Xena. I need you to be honest with me." He stared up at her, a most serious look shrouding his face.

Xena gazed at him, confused. "What is it you want to know?"

"Why are you doing this? Is it-"

She lowered her eyes in guilt. She knew what he was going to say and she cut him off, "This is not about pity."

She took a moment to pull the words together. She knew what the repercussions were of what he'd done. Xena knew what he had given up to save her life. It wasn't that she felt indebted to him, it was more of a revelation. It was the discovery that the bond between them was still there. She sucked on her bottom lip and sighed.

"I couldn't just walk away. We go too far back for that. You're not some stranger. You've been there from the beginning. You probably know more about me than myself in some ways."

He began to sit up on the cot and bared down as his ribs protested. Ares knew this was making her feel uncomfortable. Just as he didn't want to discuss the conversation that had led to the scarring whip mark on his back, he knew that she needed time to sort things out too.

"Don't say anything else. I just wanted to make sure that this wasn't all out of pity."

Xena's gaze held fast to him until he looked away. She lowered her eyes and took her lip between her teeth. It was a rather tense moment of silence. Xena looked over at the table in the center of the room and onto the bottle of bracing oil that sat on top.

"Almost forgot."

"What?"

She got up from the cot and grabbed the oil. "Stand up."

Ares did so, grimacing as he stood. "What's that for?"

Xena poured the oil into a cupped hand, put the bottle back down and ran her hands together. "It's bracing oil. It should numb the muscles around your ribs and ease the pain." She moved to apply it and as she touched his chest, she felt him flinch.

"Am I hurting you?"

"No."

He looked down at Xena. Her hands were upon his chest doing their best to soothe the raging pain and he watched on curiously as she continued to rub the oil into his skin. She didn't need to be doing this, yet she was.

She massaged the substance along his chest and down his torso. She could feel the ribs protrude under her palms. This caused her head to bow in compassion, but she carried on massaging the brace into his skin. Once she was satisfied that enough had been applied, Xena let her hands gently slide down off his sides and grabbed another rag to dry them.

"There. Feel better?"

"Yeah, it's fine."

Xena meekly smiled and scratched her arm, thoughtfully. "You're going to need to let those wounds stay uncovered over night."

Ares ran a hand over his face and nodded. His fingers traversed his beard and the other hand weaved through his hair. "Are there any cutting shears down here?"

She smirked at his question.

"Yee-ah. There should be a pair..."

Xena walked over to the wooden shelves, a finger pressed to her lips, and found what she was looking for. She held them up and directed him to sit at the table. "We'll get you cleaned up in no time. You'll need to grab a sheet from that cot and completely cover your back while I do this." She wiped the dust off onto a rag she had used earlier as he covered up his back and sat down. Taking a handful of his black hair, she opened the shears, but stopped short just as she was about to cut through the locks. "How do you want this?"

"I...I want to look the way I did the last time you saw me."

Ares brows lowered. The answer was not just in reference to hair length, but about his entire being. He want to be as he was before: strong, imposing, well kept. He realized that his answer had sounded a bit too vulnerable, and not being one to come off as weak, rephrased the answer.

"I mean, short-please."

Xena had picked up on what the underlying message was in his first sentence, but thought it best not to acknowledge it. He'd been through enough today. She merely nodded and started clipping away the hair. She watched as the black locks fell gracefully from his head, drifting down to the wooden table and floor. Pursing her lips in deep thought, her hands ran through his hair. Xena realized it was time to tell him something that she had to say... something he had to hear.

"I want to.. thank.. you again for what you did....."

Ares was admittedly a bit shocked to hear this come from her lips. The words seemed so out of place. He was still coming to terms with the fact that he'd lost everything. Not only that, but he had been told, repeatedly, that Xena probably saw the whole ordeal as almost comical. While he wanted to believe her sincerity, all he could do was remember Menelaus' words.

So, he meekly shrugged his shoulders and answered plainly, "I did what I had to, just like you do."

She pulled another lock of hair up and snipped it. "That's just the thing though." She swallowed back. "You didn't. Ares, you-"

He raised his hand, halting her words, and squeezed his eyes shut before rolling them back open. He looked despondently at the lit torch.

"I don't really want to talk about it right now. It feels forced...and out of place."

Another lock of hair descended gracefully to the floor.

Xena had thought that, perhaps, if he knew that she did appreciate what he'd done for her, that it was something special, heroic, that he would see that it didn't go unnoticed. She knew talking about Olympus wasn't the best idea. She'd seen the reaction it prompted when she had brought it up on the ridge earlier. Xena thought this was different though. She thought she was bringing it up in a way that would show him that what he had done was looked at as selfless and that she truly did thank him for it.

She understood his reluctance, regardless.

Running her fingers through his hair, and pulling up the last section to be cut, she tipped her head. "Alright, I respect that." Again the shears clasped down on the strands. She pushed her hand along, removing the severed hair and grinned. "I have more skills than I thought."

Ares took a breath. "What do you mean."

"Well, just wait. Let me finish up. Face me."

He turned in the seat. She took the shears to his beard and snipped away the grown out tuffs of hair from his chin. Her eyes were squinted and her was mouth puckered as she systematically decided at which angles to cut.

"Press your lips together like this." Xena showed him what she meant, making him chuckle half-heartedly.

"Like this?" He mimicked her action causing her to quietly laugh as well.

"Yeah that's it." She nodded her head.

Black hair spilled over her shoulders as she leaned down and began to cut away the growth from above his top lip. It was amazing, because before her very eyes such a transformation was taking place. Although he was still in need of time to recuperate, Ares was beginning to shine through the rough exterior. Xena smiled deeply and stood up.

"There."

Ares ran a hand across his face. "Done yet?"

She closed one eye and again puckered. "Umm, almost."

Xena walked over to the shelf and grabbed a jar. She opened it and scooped the substance out onto her fingers. "This is a plant residue. It's kind of the same as what I used earlier. It moisturizes the skin, but doesn't affect sense of touch."

She pulled up a chair with her dry hand and sat down in front of him. Taking the residue to his face, she rubbed it over the coarsely cut hair on his jawline. To his surprise, she reached down into her ample cleavage and pulled out a breast dagger. Her eyes traced the finely honed edge and sparkled.

"This should work."

As the dagger was brought within an inch of his skin, he gently grabbed her wrist, a wary expression on his face. "What are you doing?"

"I know what I'm doing. You of all people should know how skilled I am with weaponry." She smiled wryly.

"Um, yeah...but you're usually killing people at the time." Ares still gazed at her with uncertainty.

Xena smirked and with her free hand removed his from her wrist. "Relax."

Reluctantly, he lowered his arm. As soon as he did, Xena took a firm hold of his chin and made him tilt his head. With precision she ran the dagger across Ares' firm skin and with each stroke extrapolated the surplus stubble. She repeated this motion, every now and then stopping to wipe the steel edges across the rag. After going from one side of his face to the other, she took the clean end of the cloth, wiped it across his skin, sat back and smiled.

Ares cocked his head. "Should I even ask?"

She got up and grabbed an old shield from the corner of the room. Xena handed it to him on her return and crossed her arms. "I don't know...you tell me."

He took the shield between both hands, his eyes still looking up at her. She had a smirk on her face that resembled that of someone who had just gotten away with something sinister. Pressing his tongue to his teeth, Ares closed his eyes and sighed. He placed the shield in front of his face and hesitantly peered through black lashes.

What was revealed to him caused a warm wave of self-conscious renewal. The shield held his reflection. Had he not known better he would have thought himself completely restored to his former grace. The well chiseled features echoed back from the reflection, strong and masculine. The corners of his mouth flickered up in momentary joy, only to ease down again as he caught sight of his eyes. The fire that had lingered behind them for eons was still diffused and a hollow glare remained.

Ares' lips parted open, a stifled word unable to breech their gates, as he put the shield down. He didn't know what to say, exactly. For an instant he felt new again, only to realize that it was a facade.

Xena watched on. Witnessing the reaction, her smiled had faded as well. Ares pushed the shield away and quickly stood. He walked to the corner of the room and bowed his head. Forceful, rapid breaths were drawn in and just as hurriedly squeezed out as he slammed a fist against the wall.

She looked down at her feet. It was a bittersweet moment indeed. Perhaps he had expected that the only thing that had held him prisoner was the appearance of being one. It wasn't such an absurd thought. Xena had experienced it before herself. When changing her ways she'd attempted to discard every item that served as a reminder of her dark days...but it never erased the memory of them.

Walking toward him, her face sullenly fell. Xena reached out a hand and put it on his shoulder, her eyes fixed on the granules of dirt that fell from the wall from under his touch.

"Ares....I understand that this had been an awful ordeal. You'll regain your strength..you just need to take it easy."

"No... Don't you get it!?" Ares spun around. Firelight cast shadows across his face. The adam's apple of his throat bobbed as he swallowed down. Opening his hands he gazed down to the palms. Painful recollections churned in his mind like an impending tidal wave. "I had it all, Xena---Nearly anything I wanted was a mere motion of the hand away---a thought--a breath...and now-"

Her stature shrunk. Little time ago, he'd expressed a want to suppress this conversation, but now that wall had, for some reason, lost its fidelity and was in the midst of crumbling down into desolate debris. She bowed her head and gazed up from under dark lashes.

"And now?"

Still transfixed by callused palms of his hands, Ares' fingers curled down into fists. Muscles tightened under blanched skin before releasing in defeat. Desperation, so profound, so constricting, seized the mortal's face as a mocking chuckle cruelly fell from his lips.

"Now? Now...there's only an emptiness, Xena.... My powers, my home, my family, my legions...all gone. I don't know where to go, how to be-----nothing."

She parted her lips, cupping her hand over them as the words formulated in her mind. All the while her head continued to shake until, finally, she knew what to say. "This is new to you- I understand that Ares, but allow yourself time. You'll see that this world has a lot to offer. That in time-"

Abruptly cutting her off, an askance look crossed his face. "What? What, Xena? TIME?? I was brought into this world not so long after the sun first rose to greet the sky! You'd think that after eons of watching the internal struggle of mortals I'd understand them, but I don't even understand myself! Can you fathom that?! EONS, Xena...I saw the birth of the world as you know it, and still... it is nothing more than a stranger to me. I'm a stranger to myself-" Loathing apparent, he began to beat at his bare chest with a fist and threw his head back. "I don't know who I am anymore! I don't know if I ever knew!"

She grabbed him about the wrist, attempting to impede the self-hate she saw brewing within. At her touch, he looked down at her, his lip twitching. Xena fixated on his eyes. They held nothing but a desperate rage. The only words that dared to spring to her lips came in the form of a question breathed out just over the dull hush of a whisper.

"Then why did you do it?"

"You know why."

Ares moved past her to the old wooden table at the center of the room and propped a leg up. His elbow came down upon his thigh, a cupped hand resting his regal chin. Up until he had actually sat, Ares' eyes hadn't left hers. Now, they closed under thick lashes.

Xena ran a hand through her black hair and with doubting strides, stepped toward her former mentor. Standing before him, she crossed her arms. With carefully chosen words, her reply to this remark made its way to his ears.

"Yes, I know why you did it. I never thought you cable of doing something so heroic, but you did. For that, I thank you. You gave my daughter back to me-my best friend."

He wearily looked up. "I don't want anything from you, Xena. This isn't about debt or seeking pity. It all doesn't matter anymore. I'm sure there are many a mortal who find the whole situation utterly pathetic and humorous and perhaps they should." Ares ran a hand across his knee. "I guess I just missed the joke."

"Then I missed it too."

Ares gazed up at her and there, beneath her eyes, looking back at him, was proof that she had meant the words that had just crossed her lips. For no longer than a blink of an eye, the corner of his mouth turned upward. This motion, although brief, did not go unnoticed by Xena and both now held each other's stare. It was a silent conversation, but one that held a sense of importance.

It was a moment of revelation.

A moment that was soon stifled, for treading footsteps broke the solitude.

Standing in the shadows was Gabrielle, her hands gripped tightly around freshly subdued dinner. Her face was scrunched up hesitantly, for she realized that she had walked in something rather tense.

Motioning with her free hand she titled her head and quietly informed them, "I'm umm..going to go skin these...and um...I'm sorry--"

Xena shook her head and raised a hand. "No, it's alright. I'll come help you." The warrior looked back at Ares and with a hushed whisper declared, "This conversation isn't over."

He took his lip between teeth and nodded.

***********************************************************

Working a knife under the thick fur of a rabbit, Xena's gaze was held in contemplation. Gabrielle watched on as her friend proceeded in skinning the last animal that was soon to be put on the spit with the other two. The bard's face turned up with a wary expression, for she knew that the warrior was in the midst of some sort of quandary. She shifted in her wooden seat beside the inflamed hearth and stroked the edge of the chair with her finger before finally deciding to ask what was on her mind.

"Is Ares alright? Did I interrupt something important?"

Xena looked up from across the table, pulling the skin away from the rabbit and placing the pelt to the side. She wiped her hands on a cloth and moved to place the carcass on the spit. The firelight danced off her crouching form as she bowed her head. "I don't know, Gabrielle. He's...lost."

The bard crossed her arms and leaned back in the chair. "Well, I'm sure he'll learn to adjust."

"That's the thing," she paused and pushed along the logs burning at the base with a metal rod, "I don't know if he wants to."

Gabrielle looked up at the ceiling and emitted a forlorn sigh. "We can't always control the way we become. The harder we try to hold onto something, the further away it flees."

Xena stood and propping herself up on a crate, her eyes held fast to the raging fire in the hearth. The crackling sparks popped and fizzled. Her brows lowered and her mouth turned down into a frown.

"Sometimes, I don't know how I got to this point or why....but, the long and short of it is that I'm here...and you must make do...I wonder if he'll learn to see it this way. He's Ares. He had a power that was unfathomable, and now he's just a mortal. It's almost like he's a newborn to this world. He's confused, lost, and I can't help but feel that-"

"That if you'd helped Ares transition, he wouldn't be the way he is now?" Gabrielle picked a cobweb off of her arm, most likely left there from when she'd returned with their dinner, and continued, "Xena....that night-that whole situation...I don't know...it was too much for any of us to take into consideration what those actions would produce today."

The warrioress looked at her friend and again, her face fell. "It's a day that I often wanted to forget. Things were so out of control...."

Xena's eyes closed in remembrance of how she'd nearly killed her best friend. It was indeed a painful memory, one that she wanted desperately to erase. Neither of them had really spoken about it. It was a matter that, for some time, both thought best to just let go as if it'd never happened. But, Xena knew the repercussions of it would linger. She'd often played dumb in response to the attitude that Gabrielle had lately, but she did know the cause of it.

She took a deep breath and looked to her friend. Gabrielle had been so innocent when they'd first started these travels together. She recalled that young, wide-eyed girl seeking adventure and knowledge. Together they took on the world and learned from each other what it was to be selfless. Yes, Xena remembered the sisterly bond they forged almost instantaneously, so long ago. The stories she'd tell late at night beside a crackling fire often echoed in the warrioress' mind.

Gabrielle had admired Xena's strength and skill. She had wanted to be Xena and learn the ways of heroic warriors and over the years, the girl had done just that. Her grand idealism and noble notions of peace, however, dissipated with each swing of her staff, each jab of her sais.

Now, the bard was a woman with such a deep seeded regret that it seemed to emanate from every pore of her being. Xena felt an immense guilt for that. True, she didn't know what she would have done if Gabrielle hadn't been there for her through the years, but lately, Xena felt the need to distance herself from the friendship and deep down she knew it was because she wanted the bard to find her own way in this world and not rely on her to know all the answers.

Yet, Xena never spoke of it. She knew that telling Gabrielle something such as that could be easily misinterpreted as ungratefulness, mistrust, and cold.

The raven-tressed woman shook her head and the words loomed as they stuttered out, "I'm.. sorry."

"Sorry?"

Xena's eyes dimmed. "I'm sorry for what...it was a crazy situation, Gabrielle. If Ares hadn't done what he did, you'd be..." She closed her eyes. "You'd be dead right now...because of me. I don't know how you found it in your heart not to hate me for it and sometimes... I think you should."

Gabrielle was shocked to hear that last line. Her brows furrowed as she bobbed her head from side to side. "After what I did to Eve..."

Xena raised a hand. "NO! Gabrielle...it wasn't YOU. It was the Furies! Yet, I did it anyway...I don't know how you can stand call me 'friend' after that."

Looking down and picking at her boot laces, the bard cast a sideways glance. "Because, that's what you are," she stated matter-of-factly. The young woman shut her eyes and clenched her jaw, recalling the betrayal she had felt that day. She knew that the circumstances had not been black and white that fateful night, but she couldn't help the way it felt. "YES, I'm still troubled by what happened, but I can't allow it to tarnish all I hold as true. I WANTED to hate you, Xena...but I couldn't...I can't."

"You can't hold me up to that pedestal anymore! You say you tried to hate me, but you couldn't. When I hear you say that, it reminds me of that young and innocent girl from so long ago and it pains me to think that she doesn't exist anymore."

Dragging a finger down the wall, Gabrielle watched as clumps of dust began to gather. "What are you trying to say?"

Xena took a moment. What, exactly, was she trying to say? That was a good question and one that she was not necessarily prepared for. She rolled her eyes up and drew in a breath. She chose that it would be best to just say what came to mind.

"Can you honestly tell me that you're alright and content with what you've become? Gabrielle, I want what's best for you and this cannot be it. I will always see you as a sister, a confidant, my best-friend. You think that I'm unaware to what you're going through, yet I see it everyday- and everyday it gets worse. I saw the expression on your face tonight during that fight. Your regret almost got you killed. You're losing what's left of your joy..."

Gabrielle stood, walked over to the table, and leaned on it. Her face was sullen, a tear balancing on the edge of her eye. She faced forward, her back to Xena, and with a dulled tone asked, "So, you want me to go then..."

The warrioress stared off past the bard. "I want you to be happy. I don't want you to end up hollow inside because of the things this sort of path leads one to. After we get out of Spartan territory..."

She nodded her head and cut Xena off, wiping the tear from her eye. She turned to face her. "All this time I thought you were blind to what I was going through. The truth is, I'm scared to go..."

Xena looked back into the fire. "We don't need to discuss this right now. I don't even know how it came up...it's just that I see what this is doing to you...and...I don't know...I don't know. We'll just concentrate on the matters at hand, and see what happens. You're my best-friend, Gabrielle...you helped me to see that I was capable of being something better than I was."

"You did the same for me and that's why I can't understand how or why we can't both leave it all behind. I'm confused as to why you bring this up all the sudden. It just seems like it's coming out of nowhere. We're best friends, and yet it's like we're strangers." The bard took the sais from her boots and put them on the table, her face still holding that sullen gaze.

Xena's eyes, still transfixed by the fire, were glossy. It wasn't merely this conversation, but what had happened with Ares was weighing on her as well. She'd realized how blind she'd truly been, never thinking to question actions that served to suit her purposes. She never thought about the pain and loss those around her felt when extending their help in such selfless ways. Now, it was becoming all too clear and the stoic warrioress could no longer turn away from it.

She bowed her head. "I'm just realizing for the first time how indifferent I can be. For some stupid reason I always tend to expect things from those around me rather than show gratitude for them. But, I can't turn my back on the path I lead, Gabrielle. My heart is that of a warrior's and turning away from that would be the same as denying who I am."

Xena desperately wanted to get off the subject. They could talk about it later. There were just too many things to concern herself with at the present moment. She knew that it was not the best time to engage this sort of conversation, but once she started expressing the guilt she felt, she couldn't suppress the words from spilling out. She now stared back and managed to meekly smile.

"This isn't the time for this...and dinner is almost done...we'll sort it out when the time is right."

Gabrielle kicked at the dirt floor with the toe of her boot. Her arms were crossed and those green eyes stared off into nothing. "Yeah..once we get out of this mess..But, let me ask you one thing. Do you regret our friendship?"

Xena gazed up and with an infallible expression, shook her head and simply uttered the word, "Never."

A great silence washed over the room. It was going to be a long night.

***********************************************************

The black of night had reluctantly ebbed, making way for the sun to greet the sky with its warm majesty. Streams of light poured down over the countryside, introduced by the gentle harmonies of birds.

Within the Royal Palace of Sparta, candles still flickered upon melting wax. Once long and thin, they had burned down to mere numbs. They were on each wall of the room and danced underneath the elaborate ornamentations of weaponry, as well as jewel bedecked works of art.

Beams of light made their way through the glass window of the room and fell upon a large four-poster bed. On either side were intricately etched tables, both with large urns placed atop. From the posts of the bed, beautiful silk cascaded down to the floor in pools of green. The sheets were green as well, and billowed luxuriously.

An arm was draped down over the side of the bed and jeweled fingers skimmed the stone floor. The figure grunted and rolled over as lazy, faded brown, eyes slowly began to open. They burned as the air hit. Menelaus propped his back up on the large pillows and yawned. A sporadic cough rumbled through the old man's chest.

He wearily looked down at himself. He was wearing the same robes as yesterday. This wasn't an odd occurrence. Normally, when he drank to excess as he had done last night, the servants would carry the old man to bed after he passed out. He figured such was this, for he felt a great pain throbbing through his head.

Menelaus looked next to him. The pillow adjacent to his own was still fluffed and it was clear that no one had used it all night. A graying brow lowered as he curled his lips into a belligerent sneer.

Hearing the large door creak open, he crossed his arms. There was only one person who need not knock upon entering this room and he knew that it was she who came in now.

Cautiously, Taris, Queen of Sparta, backed into the room. Her face held a most uneasy expression. Trying to use stealth, she quietly shut the door behind her, but jumped as she turned around to see Menelaus already awake and glaring at her bemusedly.

"And where would my wife be coming from this early in the morning," he asked sarcastically.

Taris' green eyes lowered as she attempted to regain her composure. She took a breath and looked away from him, walking around the room and putting out the lit candles. She was wearing the same white silk night gown from last evening, a crushed green velvet cloak with the Spartan emblem over it. She gulped and stared at the lingering smoke that rose from an extinguished candle, before proceeding to answer him as though the question had been silly.

"I merely got up earlier than you. You were passed out all night...as usual."

Menelaus' eyes fell to look beside him and he shook his head furiously. "Then explain why your pillow has not been touched, wife!"

Taris stood tall and lifted her chin. "Why do you even care?!"

"I care because, just like every item in this kingdom, every work that's been commissioned, you are mine! So, where were you?!" The old man slammed a fist down onto the soft sheets.

She looked toward the ground, her body slightly trembling. She didn't want this morning to be a reproduction of last night. "I thought my presence would be of annoyance to you, dear husband. As such, I stayed away," Taris replied with a patronizing tone.

Menelaus' right hand reached to a glass of water that sat upon the nearby bed stand. He brought the glass toward his lips, but stopped short of drinking. "Is that so?"

Taris pushed a lock of hair from her face and nodded. "Yes, it is."

He took the cup to his lips and drank deep of it, rolling his eyes. He gripped the item firmly before his face contorted into a dark menacing glare. He threw the cup across the room and lunged out of the bed. Taris backed away toward the door. She was pressed firmly against it as he brought a hand to her face and ran fingers down the length of it.

"You best not be lying to me."

Her eyes wide, she shook her head as her mouth fell agape. Menelaus stroke the bruised area of her mouth. The same spot where he'd struck her the night before.

"You better see what your servants can do to cover this up. I don't want you walking around with it for all to see. You're the Queen of Sparta whether you're grateful or not and you will look and act accordingly."

She uttered an inaudible, "Yes."

The king glared down at her, not hearing her response, and gripping her arms, shook her. "Do you hear me!?"

"YES!! I...hear you." Taris bowed her head. She wanted out of this situation and the sooner the better.

No sooner did this thought cross her mind than a knock echoed from behind the door.

Menelaus' imposing stature shrunk with each knock, and all the while the old man's grip loosed from around Taris' shoulders.

He took a step back, cocked his head and whispered, "Get out of the way."

"My pleasure," she replied, rather shaken. Taris walked toward the window and stared down into the courtyard, her arms crossed against her chest.

He stared back at her, sneered, and then walked back to the bed as he prodded at the robes he wore. He leaned toward the other night stand where a box sat, and pulled out the royal crown. Menelaus placed the item upon his head, smoothed back mussed hair and sat up.

He cleared his throat and announced, “You may enter."

The door opened and there in the doorway, dressed in plush garb, was Phazon, member of the high council. He ran a hand through his curly graying hair and slightly bowed in recognition of the king. The little man leered at Taris' who still stood at the window, and smirked.

"Menelaus, I suggest the news I bring be kept between us." Phazon's head bobbed toward the queen whose back remained turned.

The old man nodded. Without even casting a sideways glance at her, Menelaus simply barked out another order. "I must talk business now. Leave us."

Stiffly, she looked away from the window, raised her chin in indignation, and pulled the cloak tighter around her chest. Taris walked to the door, ignoring the stare coming from Phazon, and stopped short at the exit.

The queen, with one hand placed upon the latch, patronizingly bowed, raising only her eyes to look at her husband, and with words laced with sarcasm replied, "Again, tis my pleasure."

It was then, the door shut.

Phazon let a small chuckle escape his thin lips. "She's rather feisty, isn't she?"

This question was responded to with a roll of the eyes, and a joke. "You could say that.....but not nearly as feisty as those women you toss dinars at I'm sure."

The little man smiled. "Well, you know me. Always holding firm to Sparta's bosom."

The comment sent Menelaus into laughing, which in turn caused another coughing fit to rumble through the old man's chest. Clenching his hand into a fist, he lifted it to his lips attempting to muffle the noise. As they subsided, he swallowed back and cast a sly grin.

"Yes, I know. You're quite the ladies' man. But, now onto more pertinent matters. The search party. Are they back?"

Phazon glanced down the floor and picked up the cup which had been thrown earlier. Walking over to a table adjacent to the wall, he raised a pitcher and filled it with water. He let out a sigh and made his way back toward Menelaus, handed him the drink and crossed his arms.

"No, they're not. But, Sparta is a large territory."

The king frowned and drank from the mug. The cool water raced down his palate and he looked back to his compatriot warily. "Yes, it is. Ares and his bitch are no doubt trapped somewhere on Spartan land." He ran a finger around the lip of the cup and continued. "I'm just rather uneasy. As you know, I depart today to the neighboring kingdom of Pylos to talk trade. I won't be back for four days."

This news pleased Phazon. He always did enjoy it when the king was away, for he was second in command. A twinkle in his eye, he grinned naughtily. "You shouldn't worry so. Sparta is in capable hands, sire."

"Yes, capable indeed, of groping every young woman that crosses your path." Menelaus stood up and sat the drink down, placing a hand on Phazon's back. "Make sure our men remain alert. If the search party I sent out has not yet returned by the time I do, we'll know that they met up with foul play."

The small man tipped his head. "Yes, understood." As he began to look up, the councilman caught site of something rather intriguing hanging around the king's neck. Pointing a finger and lowering a brow the man questioned, "What's this trinket?"

Menelaus looked down at his own chest and ran a hand down a black leather strap to a marvelously intricate pendant. The craftsmanship was not that of mortal hands. No, this seemed the work of an ethereal being.

The old man emitted a chuckle as he moved fingers over the object. "This you mean? Yes, fine trinket indeed. After all...it once belonged to," and in a mocking tone he finished his sentence, "mighty Ares of Olympus!" He proceeded to laugh.

"You don't say? Eh, not as though he'll need it once we find the old boy again." Phazon jokingly elbowed Menelaus in the shoulder and grinned.

The king's exterior, however, had suddenly returned to one of seriousness. He breathed out forcefully and pointed his finger at his friend. "Remember what I told you--all guards on alert. I want Ares brought back...for when people recall me years after my passing, I want them to remember Menelaus as the king who conquered war itself."

Phazon ran a hand through his curly brown locks and sighed. "Tis a shame Sparta has grown so weak in its own ideals. I often read old scrolls and documentation of long ago. Each boy started training by the tender year of seven, every man was called to serve and taught to tread with absolute bravery. Now, look at our citizens. They cower to one woman's sword."

"Their cowardice I am aware of and you know who I blame. No warrior heart do they possess, and for that, I point the finger at Ares. All paths lead back to that being and it's all the more reason to bring him to justice." Menelaus placed a hand upon the door latch, but turned to throw in one last comment. "Judgment has been passed."

***********************************************************

The Queen of Sparta looked on incredulously at the plump red-headed woman in commoner's dress before her as a servant removed her royal robes behind.

Taris shook her head with disbelief. "Are you certain?"

The larger lady chuckled and put a hand on her shoulder. "Yes m'lady. After thirty years, I'd like to think I know what I'm talkin' about."

With a gasp, the queen brought a hand to her own lips and bowed her head. She turned on her heel and stepped into a spacious stone tub of hot water. Slowly, Taris lowered her body into the heated depths, parting the floating path of rose petals that skimmed the water. She kept her back to the woman behind her, and with a delicate turn of the wrist, dismissed her servant.

The young girl was dressed in formal Spartan servant attire, which consisted of a green cotton chiton and white sash. She quickly bowed and exited, and once she was gone Taris took a breath. She ran her fingertips over the placid surface of the water. A contemplative expression was held on her finely, delicate face. She found herself lost in a complicated quandary.

Without turning to face to her company, she pursed her lips and raised her eyes toward the chandelier above, which illuminated the bathing room with lit candles. A small tear loomed upon the edge of one eye as the queen breathed out, "How long, Agnes?"

The portly woman adjusted the apron about her large belly. She wore a smile from ear to ear, unable to detect Taris' melancholy. "I would say a wee over a month. Tis a miracle for one of your years." She picked up a mug of water from a nearby table, took a sip and then continued, elated, "The king will be joyous!"

Taris could feel the tear roll down her face, burning all the way down till it dripped from her chin into the water below, causing it to ripple. She wiped her face with wet hands and spun around in the tub.

With almost a desperate plea she replied, "No, you mustn't say anything about this to anyone!"

Agnes' red brows came to a point. "Why ever not, m'lady? Surely you're happy?" The large woman's expression suddenly changed. Confusion gave way to a smirk and a bounce of the head. "Oh, I know...you want to surprise the old king yerself! How romantic."

"Surprise? Oh, yes. I want to surprise my husband." Taris swallowed and sunk back down into the tub. Scooping the water over her shoulders, she pressed her lips together and breathed out in worry.

"Again, do not tell anyone, Agnes. This information stays between you and me-that is all," she continued, looking over her shoulder.

Agnes bowed her head and ran fingers through her curly red hair. "No problem. Is there anything else you'd be needing me for, or is it alright to go, my queen?"

Taris shook her head. "No, you may go."

The portly woman bowed. Grabbing ahold of her apron, she pulled the length up, and began to exit. Beneath the doorway, Agnes turned once more to face the soaking woman.

"May I ask you one more question before I go?"

"Of course."

"Well, the bruise on your face.."

Taris, feeling self-conscious, raised a hand to it and cut the woman off, "Horse riding accident."

Agnes nodded her head. "Well, I'm sure it'll disappear in no time." The corners of her mouth turned up in a smile. "Isn't often a queen is told orders, but no more riding for you, m'dear. Not till you aren't so delicate that is." She clasped her hands together and looked up toward the ceiling, joyously shaking her head. "Tis a miracle!" Again she bowed, accompanying the motion with a wink of the eye and left the room, her shadow trailing behind.

Taris inwardly groaned as she sucked on her bottom lip and submerged herself in the tub. Rising back up, water cascaded down her face. She wiped it away with both hands and upon reopening her eyes, found the same young servant girl standing by the doorway.

She lowered a brow at the young woman. "Yes?"

"I'm sorry to disturb you, my queen."

"No, that's alright. What's the matter?"

The girl brushed a lock of auburn hair from her face. "Well, I was stopped in the hallway by one of the magistrates. Seems as though some of the locals are running short on wheat because of the drought."

Taris raised a finger to her temple and nodded. "I see. Well, just ration out some of the palace's supply to them."

The servant cocked her head. "Begging your pardon, but won't the king be displeased?"

"King Menelaus is away on other matters. Do as I say," she replied firmly.

"Should I pass this order by Phazon first?"

Taris allowed a sardonic laugh to pass her lips. "Oh yes, he is second in command when the king's away isn't he?" She furrowed her brows and continued, "Phazon may be part of the high council but he does not reside within the palace, therefore its goods are none of the man's affair. Now, go do as I say. I won't allow these people to go without due to a technicality."

The servant bowed. "Yes, my queen. It shall be done."

Now, once again alone, Taris took a moment to allow her mind to wash over the recent news. A sigh past her lips and she raised a trembling hand to her jaw where the bruise stretched across. Her eyes closed, as she took her other, ran it gently upon her pouting belly and whispered, "My child."

***********************************************************

Another day had drawn to its imminent end as night fell across Greece. King Menelaus made it to the neighboring kingdom of Pylos by the time the first star had graced the clear black sky. Welcomed with a prodigious reception, he now sat amongst utter luxury within the grandiose dining hall of the city's palace.

King Dmitri of Pylos and his wife, Queen Jocasta, were most gracious hosts, and had thus planned together an exquisite banquet most befitting the sovereign of the once mighty Sparta. Royal bodies sat upon cushions and carpets, a tradition most notably seen in Persia, but one that had been adopted specifically for this night. The regal House of Pylos always had an adoration for theme and culture.

This evening was no different.

Fabrics of all ilks graced the stone walls in colors of magenta, indigo, and silver. Delicate and looming, the night's gentle caress prompted them to dance as a gentle wind poured through open windows. Torches hung against every wall and in great number, illuminating the entire room. There were so many, that they served to play tricks on the eyes, fooling them to think it was day.

The pleasant hum of nobility, magistrates, and others of wealth graced the room while a small group of musicians played a most alluring tune. Complimenting the decor, the song was that of Persian melodic rhythm. The tune carried on through the talk and laughter to the ears of all in attendance and made for a cheerful backdrop to the atmosphere.

King Menelaus sat amongst the pillows, sitting side-by-side with the hosts atop a risen block of pure marble which stretched out like a stage. A small table, much like the ones afforded the guests below, sat before them. It was covered with the finest cuisines acquired through barter with those of the Middle East. Flat bread, rolled grape leaves stuffed with rice and lamb, dates and baklava, saturated in honey, sat upon plates of embossed metal. The wine, however, had been imported from the Island of Rhodes and what a fragrant liquid it was indeed.

The King of Sparta indulged his taste buds with the intoxicating liquid. Between his fingers was a rolled grape leaf. He took a bite and again, washed it down with the wine. A satisfied smile crossed his thin lips. He surveyed the room, the sounds and sights and, in a way, he was quite jealous of Pylos' splendor.

These were not warring people. No, these were people who enjoyed the pleasures of peace in abundance. He held the ideal that beings such as this did not deserve the grandeur they were afforded. Soldiers and champions... they were the ones who held the esteemed right to such things in Menelaus' mind. He'd see to it that Sparta would not only reclaim their former glory, but their warring heart as well.

But, still he sat, platitudes and smiles dripping off from his tongue with each gesture and comment made. Even the queen herself made the old man jealous, for she and her husband Dmitri seemed most content with one another as they giggled at each other's jocular quips. Jocasta was quite a beauty. Her laugh trickled out from reddened lips, her deep brown eyes twinkling in unison with the lit torches.

Yes, the royal couple of Pylos were indeed a handsome pair. Both were fitted with most impressive crowns atop their matching black hair, and each wore blue chitons fixed with silver threading and jeweled clasps.

Menelaus set down the grape leaf and picked up a small piece of baklava. He popped it into his mouth and, licking the honey from the tips of his fingers, he reached for a cloth.

"I'm honored by this banquet," the old man stated, wiping his mouth.

King Dmitri, much younger in years, laughed. "Tis our pleasure to present it to you. My wife and I simply adore finding excuses to throw such parties."

Jocasta playfully slapped her husband on the arm. "Yes, indeed we do. Tell me, Menelaus, I realize the important matters of our bartering agreement will be discussed at length tomorrow, but are you satisfied with the first proposal? If you are, those goods can be sent first thing in the morn to Sparta."

The old man nodded. "Yes, two wagons filled to the brim with Pylos' wheat in exchange for a wagon filled with Spartan fabrics and linen. Quite the fair trade, and I am most pleased with it. By all means, send those goods in the morn if it's no bother. I'll send a letter of notification for Sparta's end of the agreement to be sent post haste."

"Excellent," Dmitri replied while rubbing a hand upon Jocasta's bent knee. The King of Pylos grinned as a conservatively dressed servant made her way up the marble steps of the platform carrying a tray of more sumptuous desserts. "Ah yes, here she comes now with the reinforcements."

Queen Jocasta laughed, patting her husband about the waist. "That's Dmitri for you-- A sugar tooth like no other in all of Greece, but still as fit as the most well conditioned soldier."

Menelaus had not heard the joke for he was quite taken by the beauty who was now ascending the steps toward their table. Her off-white chiton was wrapped and pleated about her waist and hung near to the floor. Black tresses of kinky hair fell about her face accentuating pouty, pink lips. Her eyes, which held his stare as she placed the tray upon the table, were the most dazzling hazel. Black brows arched as she looked toward the King of Sparta, raising the pitcher of wine.

"More drink, sir?"

He raised his goblet as the wine spilled out into its awaiting depths.

Pulling the old man from his thoughts, King Dmitri tapped him on the shoulder. "So, the word is you're in pursuit of war himself."

Menelaus stuttered briefly as the words processed in his mind, "Huh? OH, yes.." He scowled as he emptied the newly refreshed goblet and slammed it down on the table. "Ares... My judgment has been passed down in the matter. He's accountable for every past war in my opinion and is now nothing more than a criminal on the run. I'll bring him to justice."

Jocasta wrapped her arms around Dmitri, placing her chin upon his shoulder. "How did he escape?"

"Ever hear of Xena?"

She smirked. "The Warrior Princess, Menelaus?"

"Yes...She crashed the party so to speak."

The servant girl nearly tipped over the pitcher after filling Jocasta's glass, but regained her composure, and drew her hands to her face. "Excuse me for my intrusion, but did I just hear you correctly? Xena?"

Menelaus ran a hand over the neatly trimmed beard at his chin and cast a sideways glance to Dmitri. Whispering, he asked, "What's this girl's name?"

The King of Pylos let a small chuckle escape his lips. "I'm not quite sure. She's new. Came in from Argos with the last trade agreement our people made with them."

Jocasta interrupted, "I do believe her name is, Cassia."

With a raise of his brow, Menelaus looked toward the girl, folded his hands upon the table and cocked his head. "Yes, Xena. Why do you ask young lady?"

Cassia twirled a long, black lock of hair about her finger. With an almost excited expression on her face, she explained, "The scrolls of Gabrielle--the Bard of Poteidaia, are legendary. My father once acquired one and would read it to me every night. Are they really in this area?"

Leaning back, Menelaus smirked. "Well, I saw no bard of which you speak, but as for Xena, yes-yes she is. You perplex me girl. Ares of Olympus runs from my grasp, yet you seem more intrigued with these minor characters."

Cassia looked about the table. The King and Queen of Pylos looked on expectantly, prompting her to continue. She shrugged her shoulders and pressed her lips together. "I dunno. I grew up wanting to be like her...so many things she saw and did. Her hope for humanity was incredible, and she was such a prolific writer. Did you know that at one time she was an Amazon queen?"

Dmitri shook his head and raised a hand up toward the girl. "My apologies, Menelaus. Normally, our servants aren't so free of tongue."

"No, no. Tis alright." He shifted. "So, you say this bard was an Amazon?"

"Yes, she was. But if the stories I heard are true, she left it behind to explore the world with her best-friend."

"And would that best-friend be Xena," he asked, leadingly.

Nodding she answered, "Yes, so bound in friendship. The warrior and the bard. Again, the tales are legendary."

Menelaus ran a ringer around the rim of his goblet and smiled. "My dear girl, if all goes as planned, those tales will end with a legendary twist as well."

Not fully understanding what the old king meant, Cassia's brow rose. Parting her lips, she abruptly shifted her gaze to Queen Jocasta and King Dmitri. "May I go now?"

"Yes, more tables await their refills and desserts," the sovereign replied.

Cassia bowed and began to walk away, casting a glance at Menelaus as she departed.

The old man seemed rather amused. He leaned back toward Dmitri and with a playful smile inquired what was on his mind. "The girl. Willing to trade for her?"

The King of Pylos tilted his head and popped a date into his mouth. He chewed on it thoughtfully as eyes lowered upon the pendant that hung from Menelaus' neck. Pointing to it, he swallowed and answered, "Well...I think something could be arranged."

"Yes, who designed that? I noticed it when you first came in today. Excellent craftsmanship. I'm sure it's worth a pretty dinar...or pretty servant," Jocasta chimed in as she sipped wine from her goblet.

The old man clutched the item in his hand and shook his head. "I'm truly sorry, but this item is dear to me. Sentimental, I'm sure you'll understand." Seeing his hosts' faces grow disinterested, Menelaus tugged at the grandest ring of all he wore. He raised the sapphire to their eyes and smiled. "But this, this is something that I'm sure will more than cover your loss."

Dmitri took the ring between his fingers and raised a brow. "This is your wedding ring, is it not?"

"Eh, yes, but my dear wife, Taris, was not the one who selected it. Our wedding of long ago was completely handled by the magistrates at the time and she's never been fond of this being the symbol of our union." Menelaus knew that what he'd just stated was a complete lie, but, to serve his own purposes, did not care.

Dmitri turned to Jocasta and trailed a finger down her face. "My dear Queen, are you satisfied with this?"

Her deep brown eyes raked over the spectacular sapphire and intricate band. She grinned deeply. "Consider it done. Cassia can set out to Sparta along with the wagons of wheat in the morning."

"Wonderful," Menelaus drunk deep of his goblet and continued, "she says she's always been fond of stories about the Warrior Princess. Well, she won't want to miss the climatic conclusion of this one."

***********************************************************

Morning had once again fallen upon Greece and within the underground shelter, both the warrioress and the bard were busily getting ready to hunt for their breakfast. Ares was still resting on the cot as they collected their things and silently made their way out of the room, through the corridor and into the sun.

The day before had been spent mostly in silence. The only words voiced throughout the entire span had been made when asking or thanking for help while taking inventory, boiling water, cooking dinner and carrying out other necessary preparations. Although the first day had been one of revelation and even disdain, the latter produced no commentary or discussion on the subjects that had been touched upon. In dealings with matters of friendship and clarity, yesterday was far from efficacious.

Gabrielle had been restless all throughout the night. Her mind had churned in a tidal wave of disillusionment, regret, remorse and realization. There were so many things she so desperately wanted to say, but each time she looked at Xena, all she saw was her friend soundly resting. The entire night had been like torture.

Now, both women made their way onto the grassy floor of the deep valley. They stood amongst wild flowers of blue and pink, spaced out by greedy weeds that raised skyward toward the sun. Gabrielle's face held a despondent expression, one that finally collapsed as she stopped and turned on her heel when Xena shut the shelter door.

"We need to talk," the bard stated matter-of-factly.

Xena lowered her head. She'd been expecting her friend to finally speak out about the other night. All throughout yesterday, she could see a storm brewing behind the bard's eyes. The warrioress wasn't exactly prepared for what a talk would produce, but she wasn't fearful of it either.

"I wondered when you were going say that."

"I had to sort some things out in my head first. I can't say I know all the answers, but I do realize what needs to be done." Gabrielle wiped an eyelash from her face and continued, "Our talk the other night, it left me... empty. I didn't know I could feel even more lost than I did before."

"I don't know why all of it came out the way it did. But, as much as it hurts to say it, those words still ring true. Gabri-"

She raised a hand. "No. You need to listen to me now." Gabrielle could see that her tone had shaken Xena considerably, but she proceeded. "You know there is so much that I resented you for. You always seem to think that your way is the only way. You push things down and don't talk about them, yet you say you trust me-"

Xena's eyes snapped up. "Whoa, now just-"

"Then, there's Eve." She trailed off seeing Xena's expression turn to one of wary anticipation. Clenching her jaw, the bard looked helplessly toward the morning sky and begrudgingly swallowed down. "Do you know how painful it was for me to see you completely joyous with the news of your child when you condemned my own? Do you know how much I hated the memories it caused? How every night I recalled all the times Hope called me 'mother' and every reaffirmation that my child was nothing but a monster?" She shuddered and exhaled as tears began to well up in her eyes.

Xena watched on in utter shock. Hope had been brought into this. As much as she wanted to deny it, she couldn't dispel the fact that what Gabrielle was now saying had crossed her mind before. She'd seen the parallels between Hope and Eve, but never did have any intention of pointing them out. Now, her best friend was essentially calling her a hypocrite and perhaps she was in one way or another.

"I'm so sorry," she breathed out, astounded at the pain in Gabrielle's eyes. Xena shook her head. "I can't explain why I did the things I did. What could I do though?? How was I to ease your grief?"

The bard crossed her arms and closed her eyes. "Maybe by just once acknowledging it? You went on as if I never knew what it was to be a mother, like what happened never did. Still, I kept my mouth shut."

Xena's blue eyes grew wide. "Why?!"

"Because! I felt guilty!! My daughter killed your son. How could I bring her up knowing that you only saw her as the destroyer of your child?" Gabrielle wiped a tear from her reddened face and then drew a finger under her nose, clearing away the liquid that began to run from it.

Xena's stomach began to turn. Solan...dear Solan, brought down by the hands of her best-friend's daughter before he'd even learned the truth of his existence. Her boy never got the chance to grow old, marry, or be a father. Solan would never see the dawning of a completely new day and for this, Hope was to blame. Xena, at the time, couldn't help but feel rage burn within her, knowing that, had Gabrielle only listened to her in the beginning---

It was in the past and there was no way to mend the loss.

She closed her eyes.

Any way one looked at the situation, it held no easy resolve. If Gabrielle had done as told, she might have always seen Hope as an innocent baby who never was afforded the chance to prove herself. Xena knew this, but after what did happen, and even after putting the matter to rest, no longer pointing fingers of blame, the warrioress couldn't deny that their friendship was never the same.

Then Eve came. Xena refused to bring up Hope. The bitter memories of both their children's deaths, the angst and hatred it had caused, seemed so unnecessary and masochistic to bring up just for the purpose of pointing out a parallel. She had kept quiet for both of their interests. She knew within her heart that her child was good, something that could easily be construed as two-faced when compared with her admonishment of Hope. But, how was she to explain it without it ultimately serving to taunt her best friend?

Xena was at a loss.

"I didn't acknowledge it because it was too painful--for the both of us. I don't know what else I can say...I did what I thought was right at the time. I'm so sorry...for what you went through, but you must know that-"

"Went through," Gabrielle repeated, looking off into nothing as she crossed her arms. She meekly shook her head and glanced at Xena. "I want you to know that while I did feel that loss, I finally understood it--but--I was never the same." Fixing her eyes on the two horses lazily grazing on the southern end of the valley, looming tears finally began to descend. She forcefully ground the tread of her boot into a soft mound of soil and winced. "It's not even that anymore, Xena. It's just...ugh...it's everything."

The warrioress put a hand on her friend's shoulder and stared at her with both admiration and remorse. "You are still such a light in this world and I feel as if you're constantly at war at yourself. A lot of it is because of me--I know." She stopped and looked to the sky as a sigh lingered in her chest. "Just look at what you're becoming."

Gabrielle picked at the stitching of her satchel and shrugged. "For so long, I thought I wanted to be...you."

Again, Xena's eyes enlarged and with an incredulous look, she flared her nostrils. "Why on earth would you want to be like me?? Do you know how much I wanted to see things through innocent eyes? How jealous I was of your ability to see the good in all that surrounded you? Cynicism was always my strong suit and selflessness was yours."

The strap of Gabrielle's satchel slid from her shoulder and the bag dropped to the weed covered ground, the bard trailing after it. She sat back amongst the long-stemmed growth. The weeds prodded at her face before it fell into her hands.

Xena gazed on, her mouth turned down sullenly. Gabrielle kept her face concealed behind her hands. The warrioress used the opportunity to wipe away an impending tear from her own face. It seemed to burn her fingers as it slid upon them and rolled ominously down to the tips.

They had both been through incredible circumstances together. The ways of this earth they learned together, in a fight for justice and prosperity, the greater good. But, just as a song of such rapture, whose melodic song is silenced by a broken string, or a raging fire that ceases to flicker due to the will of a storm, their friendship's harmony rang out of tune and the light dimmed with each new day.

For months-no-years...they had attempted to find their way to peace. They desperately attempted to allow the past to remain forgotten, but it never went away. The pain and regret merely contorted itself into sarcasm and unfamiliarity. Xena had watched as it progressed, silenced, but weary.

It wasn't until the battle for Olympus that she had even considered the possibility of parting ways, but after nearly murdering her closest friend and worse, not acknowledging it, she knew then what had to be done. The fight with Sparta's patrol, seeing Gabrielle freeze with guilt and, subsequently, putting herself in mortal danger, only served to convince the warrioress of her obligation to do the right thing, no matter how painful.

Now, here they were. It was a day that Xena had, for quite some time, put off. How do you tell your closest friend that you're destroying each other? She crouched down into the grass and weeds, placing a hand on Gabrielle's shoulder.

The bard looked up and with reddened eyes, gazed into those of the woman who had served as mentor, confidant, and most treasured friend. Staring into those crystalline blue depths, she winced, for they held her tired and frustrated reflection. It such a contrast from that first day she'd begged to be taken along with the stoic warrioress.

Oh, that day. Gabrielle could still remember every detail, but one among them all stood out.

"You know, where I'm headed, there'll be trouble."

"I know."

"Then why would you want to go into that with me?"

"That's what friends do-- They stand by each other when there's trouble."

"All right, friend."

Gabrielle never forgot the moment their hands clasped for the first time. She could still recall the way her gaze was idled upon a set of blue eyes that seemed to glow like sapphires. They had held her own reflection--one of innocence, enthusiasm, hope and peace.

But now....

All that her reflection held was that of a mortal who had lost their way. Conflicted idealism and guilt stared back at her, mockingly. When Xena's eyes looked away, Gabrielle snapped back into the present, no longer under the imposing stare of her reflection. Her hands wrapped around the bases of weeds and pulled upward, only to toss the remnants to the side as she let out a wavering sigh.

"You're right, Xena...I can't do this anymore. The fighting, the loss--it has to stop. There's so much we've seen together and been through, but I'm losing myself each time I pull out my weapons--each time I must play judge, jury and executioner within the span of seconds. Those men we fought the other night...their families and friends must now suffer their loss, all because they were simply following orders." She paused and gulped back. "I can't do it anymore!"

The warrioress lowered her head and glared at the ground. "So many resentments..I feel them too. But, I'm a warrior...it's the only way I know."

Gabrielle took a breath and wiped a new stream of tears from her face. "You know, all this time I thought I was searching the world to find my place in it, but it isn't until now that I know where that place is."

Xena's fingers fumbled about her chakram, tracing the intricate ridges. She wanted her friend to be happy, even if that meant their paths were separate. The young bard was on the trail to realization.

The warrioress set her jaw and asked, "Where is that place?"

"All my life, I thought I needed to find myself. I felt that my common ways weren't the extent of it-and I was right about that. But after all these years, I finally see that what I was so desperately searching for, the person I wanted to be, was that innocent girl who believed in the greater good of others. For years, you've listened to me talk about finding inner peace, but it was there all along and I just never saw it before...and...with each new day, it sinks further away."

"Gabrielle-"

"I can't do this anymore-judge the future of others with swipes of steel and anger. I can no longer carry the burden of the guilt. Together we fought for the greater good-and for that I hold no regrets, but I can't go about doing it the same as you." She picked at a loose thread on her satchel, taking note of how just as she, the once tightly bound string was unraveling. Gabrielle winced. "You're right. While I know we will always be bound in eternal friendship-the path we lead now is forking off. You're all I've known for the past few years and it's time I learn who I am."

Xena saw the pain in her friend's eyes. She shook her head sympathetically and pulled her into her arms, hugging her tightly for support and faintly smiled. "You must follow your path, Gabrielle. We're family, you know this. For so long I took your loyalty for granted and I don't know how I can ever make that up to you. You've let go of so much all ready and I will not stand by and watch you give yourself up as well. I did it to my mother, my brothers, even Ar-," Xena paused, shocked to hear the first syllable of Ares' name pass through her own lips.

"He really does mean a lot to you on some level, doesn't he?"

The warrioress cocked a brow. "I don't know where he fits into my life...but, there's something there." Xena rolled eyes. "I don't know. I really don't and it's a matter that I can't afford to think about if we're going to get out of here. She closed her eyes briefly to shake the notion before continuing, "Actually, this whole ordeal could get quite messy. You don't need to stay here now. The fight against Sparta has nothing to do with you--you shouldn't feel obligated."

Xena pulled away and helped the bard to stand as the young girl wiped away the last of the fallen tears. Gabrielle shook her head and took on a most dedicated gaze. "No, Xena. If this is to be the end of our travels, let's see this last great adventure out together."

***********************************************************

"I can't believe you're already leaving. I'm going to miss you," a tall slender woman stated as she handed an ivory brush to the other who sat on the edge of a quilted bed.

The young woman smiled, pulling the bristles through her long black hair. "I'll miss you as well. I'm quite excited about the whole thing actually."

"That so? Sparta...King Menelaus is quite the hero in their eyes. Do you know what you'll be stationed to do there?"

"Well, I assume I'll just be a stand-by servant as I was here. Andro, do you think I'll see them??"

The older woman paused and adjusted the cotton cap that held her hair up. "There you go again, Cassia."

The young girl smirked. "Wellll...I can't help it. The accounts of Gabrielle's adventures span all over Greece."

"Yes, yes...and your father read you one of her scrolls every night. I know, it's the only thing you talk about. How you'd like to see what she's seen. Do the things that she's done," the woman paused, "From what I hear, only Xena's been spotted in Sparta."

Cassia pursed her lips and continued to brush her hair. "True. But, where she goes, the bard goes." She put the brush down, satisfied that her locks were untangled and leaned back on her bed. A smile crossed her lips. "One day, I will see the world, be my own person and not merely a servant."

Andro pulled a chair out and sat down, smoothing the creases of her off-white chiton and looked to the girl empathetically. "Cassia...you know that I want you to be happy. But, " she lowered her head, "this is the way of life for people like us."

The girl's head rolled to the side and a defiant stare sat under her cocked brow. "Always so pragmatically cynical." She rolled onto her elbows, causing her hair to spill over her shoulders. "We belong only to ourselves. No one owns us and one day, I will make that abundantly clear."

Andro's gray brow lowered. "When you just...what? Get up and walk away?"

Cassia got up from the bed and walked over the dark mahogany chest that sat at the foot of it. She unclasped the iron lock and lifted the lid. It creaked as she pushed it open. She gracefully lowered her hands into the depths and pulled out a long, green, velvet pouch. She diligently worked on the threaded rope that kept it closed, slid her hand in, and pulled out a scroll. Her eyes fluttered down as she ran her hand over the parchment before gazing at Andro who sat there, confused.

"I want to read you part of this. I think it's the only way you'll understand, my dear friend."

The woman acknowledged her with a brief nod. "Is this what I think it is?"

Cassia pursed her lips, made her way to the edge of the bed, and sat. She unfolded the document carefully. "It's time I finally shared it with you." She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, cleared her throat and began to read.

"Two years have past as if they came and left under the guise of a single night. What many people across Greece had come to know as nothing more than a fierce warrioress, a young girl, an innocent to the ways of this world, has come to know as a friend, mentor, and confidant. In a short span of time, this girl has seen and done so much, and has learned a great many lessons. Together, these friends, the idealistic bard and the stoic warrioress, fight for the greater good.

Humanity is something which should never be taken for granted. No matter how oppressed, the mortal will can not be suppressed. Beauty, strength, empathy and joy are our gifts. No slaver, no magistrate or ruthless war monger can ever change that.

It is up to the us to hold this truth. This is something so many do not realize. The boot does not come down upon one's neck by force--it comes down by submission and fear. One day, we will see a world of peace, but it is up to the common man, woman and child to tear down the wall that keeps them from this goal. Tis greater to make some sort of stand than to never make one at all.

So, together a warrioress and a bard make a stand for this cause and, along the way, the latter would like to think that she has played a part and been a teacher in the eyes of her mentor. Is this a paradox? Perhaps.

There came a day when this paradox became a reality. It was the day that the bard discovered her inner strength. It was a day that shocked not only the Warrior Princess, but herself as well. Her strength was her heart, and by listening to it, she learned that, even surrounded by the so-called enemy, it would not be silenced.

This is the story of the day she learned about the greater good."

Cassia looked up before continuing to find a small tear on the verge of spilling over the brim of Andro's eye. She smiled slightly, knowing that the scroll she read was explaining her ideals better than she ever could. The young girl ran her hand across the parchment. "Do you want me to go on?"

Andro wiped the tear from her face and nodded. "Yes, please do."

So, in the early morning hours, within Cassia's servant quarters, the two remained as the young girl recounted the story of the day Gabrielle had posed as Xena when the warrioress had been struck down by a, then, unknown enemy. She told the story of how a bard had come to the rescue of not only the Warrior Princess, but of an entire town.

***********************************************************

"You alright? Can you see"

The bard nodded as she made her way down the scaling wooden planks that descended into the depths of the shelter. Xena stood at the bottom, holding up the lantern in one hand, and in the other, a few game birds they'd managed to trap while hunting. They'd been gone for nearly an hour and a half. Consequently, they were extremely hungry.

The talk they'd had before the hunt had produced a quiet morning, but now, all that was on either of their minds was breakfast.

Together, they walked down the dark corridor and into the food stores facility. Xena placed the birds down the table and began to pluck a few feathers from one, discarding them to the corner.

Gabrielle looked over, noting that her friend was doing an extremely poor job of removing the feathers and shook her head. She let a small, almost inaudible snicker out, and walked up to the other side of the table.

"Um, Xena. You know how you always say you have many skills?"

She looked up and cocked her head. "Yes?"

Gabrielle reached down and slowly pulled the bird away from her. "Well, it's time you know that food prep is not one of them."

Xena's mouth dropped open as she placed her hands on the edge of the table. "What's that supposed to mean," the warrioress asked as she dislodged a feather from her gauntlet.

The bard plucked a feather from the bird and flicked it at Xena's face. "It means you are awful at cooking and you should get out of the way while the real chef takes over."

Xena laughed quietly and nodded her head. "Yeah...I suppose I should go see if Ares has gotten up anyway."

"You go do that. These will be done and cooked to perfection before you know it-- now that they're in my hands."

"Uh-huh. Well, I could cook if I wanted to. I just like to use the excuse that I can't so I'm not asked to." With that, Xena grabbed a few of the feathers from the table and threw them at Gabrielle before leaving the room, snickering.

Xena pushed her black hair back behind her shoulders as she walked toward the entrance to the main quarters. She stopped short of entering as she caught sight of Ares. She didn't know why she didn't just continue into the room, but there was something that held her curiosity enough to make her stay in place. In all the years she'd known Ares, never once had she thought that she would witness him getting up and going about things like a mere mortal. It was a simple enough thing to do, but the fact that he was once the personification of war---well, it just perplexed her enough that she couldn't bring herself to intrude.

The wooden cot creaked under Ares' weight as he rolled onto his back and let out a sigh. Slowly he stretched, wincing a bit as he did, the pain causing him to retract. Wearily, eyes opened, blinked, and focused on the dirt ceiling. He swallowed and sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the cot and gripping the edge with his hands. A long yawn past his lips as he brought his hands up to his face and rubbed, before running them through his hair and standing.

Walking over to the table, he pushed a hand along his eye, and stopped. Brown eyes looked from cot to cot, and he noted that he was alone. On a second scan of the room, he saw a piece of parchment sitting atop the table and picked it up.

"Gone to hunt," Ares read, drowsily. He tossed the item back down and scratched his bare chest.

He wasn't quite sure what to do to occupy the time of isolation. Glancing down at the old rags he was still wearing, he shrugged his shoulders and with a raised brow, walked over to a chest in the corner of the room. Xena had told him the night before as they got ready for bed that he could find some clothes within to change into when he got up.

Gradually bending down, he flipped the lid up and pulled out a pair of black leather pants. "Xena did always joke about war and leather going together."

Outside the entrance, Xena heard this and bit her lip. As she watched on, she bit harder. The small joke had been one thing, but Ares was now in the midst of dropping his pants. The warrioress turned away and threw her back against the wall.

It wouldn't be right to keep staring, she thought to herself while a red blush traversed her face. Forcefully, she breathed out and turned back to watch. Just taking note of his injuries...nothing more..

Ares slowly pulled the leather pants up and fastened them. He knelt, grabbed a black padded tunic from the chest, and put it on. A small grunt past his lips as he rolled his shoulders and tied the shirt together. Satisfied that it was bound, he smoothed the edges down over the top of the pants and sighed.

A box in the corner caught his eye. It was constructed of slatted wood and held a bountiful amount of swords. Pursing his lips, he hesitated before making his way to it. He placed his hands atop the edge of the box and leaned. With a wavering hand, he reached down, and ran a finger over the finely honed edge of one of the swords. He cocked his head and grasped the hilt, pulling the item out. Ares' eyes swept over it. The steel reflected the flames of a nearby torch, as well as his own dark shadow.

Xena stared on. In this atmosphere, Ares looked restored. The bouncing shadows concealed the bruises and he still maintained that ever imposing stature. Still, she watched on as he swung and twirled the weapon about in his hand, the reflected flames contorting with each swipe. Something pulled at her. Could it be that it comforted her to see Ares swept up like this... like he was?

Twirling the sword about in a glorious array of twists and turns, he looked magnificent.

No sooner did this thought cross her mind, than something once thought impossible happened. He winced with each large swoop as he tried to suppress the pain in his chest, and, for one brief moment, he lost control of it. That one mistake was all that was needed, for the sharp edge came up, nicking Ares' chin. The sword fell from his hand.

If this had been anyone else, it would not have been such a shock to see. Xena had done this to herself on more than one occasion. But, this was Ares. This was the personification of war himself, cut by the hand that had once willed legions to do as he demanded.

He brought a hand to his face and emitted a snarl. Kicking the sword off the ground and back into his grasp, he brought it down upon the edge of the box as hard as he could. Splinters of wood flew to the dirt below. Cussing, he stormed off toward a barrel of water and furiously splashed it onto his face as he laboredly breathed. His nostrils flared and retracted while the water streamed from his brow, down the length of his nose and dripped back into the barrel. He clutched the rim causing his muscles to tense as he shook his head.

"Pathetic!" Ares looked down at his reflection on the surface of the water and winced. He clenched his jaw and spat, "Just look at you! Look at what you've become! You condemn your home to ruin for a woman who despises you."

Xena couldn't help but let out a silent gasp upon hearing this. As soon as she heard those words her own responded unspoken. I don't despise you. She swallowed, processing the thought that had just crossed her mind. The warrioress' gaze turned sullen as she watched Ares continue to berate himself.

"You're the laughing stock of everything you once ruled over and there's no going back. Olympus is gone...all you knew is gone...." A self-mocking chuckle poured out over his wet lips. "Perhaps this is my punishment. After years of betrayals and scheming to get whatever I wanted, the one thing I truly desired..." He stopped and wiped his face with the back of his hand and peered back down at his own reflection. "Behold! The once mighty Ares of Olympus!!! Brought to his knees by...love." Again, he looked down at his own countenance and disgustedly sneered. He thrust his fist into the water, causing it to splash and fly up. He pulled back against the rim of the barrel before leaning forward again, closing his eyes as tight as possible and swallowing back.

Xena was in utter shock. She knew, that in his own twisted way, he cared for her. She knew that their past had been flawed, but they still maintained some bond. She knew that he gave up Olympus for her and all that it meant...but still, Xena was amazed to hear the word 'love'. Sure, he'd told her that he loved her that fateful night in the rain, but she thought it all a ruse to get her away from Eve. Then, on Mount Olympus, after Athena had fallen, Ares' explanation for what he'd done was that he had a 'thing' for her.

Xena took a deep breath. The pain in his, now, opened eyes told everything. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know if she should make her presence known and even if that was the right thing to do, Xena found herself unable to move. She leaned against the wall and stared on.

Ares' eyes fell back down to his reflection and he bowed his head. Repeating words just spoken, this time they fell across his lips in a whisper. "Behold..The once mighty Ares of Olympus, brought to his knees by love...and if he could go back...he would gladly fall to them again."

Xena threw her back against the wall again and closed her eyes. She was in shock, but before she could think on what had just happened, a hand touch her shoulder. She jerked forward and her side knocked into the wall, causing her chakram to come of its clasp and roll into the room. It ran on its side into the room before loosing momentum and falling flat at Ares' feet.

Her eyes grew wide as she looked from where the chakram had ended up, to the hand upon her shoulder.

"You ok," Gabrielle asked, a bit startled from Xena's reaction.

The warrioress looked back, took a moment to regain her senses and responded, "Yea." She clamped her jaw shut and slowly walked into the room. Gabrielle followed behind, confused.

Xena looked at Ares. He was in the process of picking her chakram up. She bit her lip and walked up to him as he held it out to her.

"Lose this?"

Thinking quick on her feet she nodded. "Um, yea. We just got back from hunting and I was on my way see if you were up."

"Well, as you can see, I am."

Xena nodded again, her eyes fixed on his own and answered, "Yeah."

Gabrielle looked on at the pair and waited for someone to say something more. No one did, so she chose to break the silence. "Well, I'm going to go back and check on breakfast."

The warrioress broke her stare and looked back to her friend. "I'll come with you." She turned around, briefly glancing at Ares. "After breakfast, it's time to figure out a strategy to get out of here." With that she put her chakram back on its clasp and left the room with Gabrielle.

Xena started down the corridor quickly, in large strides, with her head down. Gabrielle tried to keep up and reached for her arm as they entered the food storage area.

"Woah, hold up! What's wrong? What happened down there?"

Xena turned on her heel and her mouth dropped open a bit. "Nothing happened..."

"It sure doesn't look like 'nothing'. What's going on? Don't shut me out," Gabrielle countered as she propped herself on top of the wooden table.

Swallowing, Xena ran a hand over her chakram and winced. "I just did something I shouldn't have done."

"Which would be?"

Shifting her weight onto the other foot, she answered, "I sorta...well...I sorta eaves-dropped."

Gabrielle lowered a brow as she twirled a discarded feather between her thumb and index finger. "What do you mean? Ares is alone in there. How could you-"

"He was talking aloud," Xena interjected.

"About?"

Spotting a crate along the wall, she sat down and put her head in her hands. "About everything he's lost. About losing Olympus."

Gabrielle smirked. "Ohh, I see. Well, I admit, what he did there took courage and I am grateful, but he's still Ares--power hungry, and megalomanic."

Xena raised her head and cocked it to the side, staring off into the dirt. "That's the thing, I thought he was too--that under the broken exterior he's still the same...but he's not. What he did on Olympus wasn't a fluke."

The bard ran a finger through the feather she was holding. "Explain."

"I watched and listened as he demeaned himself....mocked himself...I thought he'd go on to say what a waste it all was to do what he did. Part of me wanted to hear him say that because, ever since that moment, my perception of Ares has been conflicted. Just to hear him say it was a mistake... or that if he could go back, he woulda sided with Olympus... I'd realize that he is the same old Ares and these feelings that I'm feel-"

"Feelings? You never mentioned anything about that."

Xena took a breath, closed her eyes and then exhaled. "When he gave up everything to save me from Athena...it shocked me. Never did I think he was capable of selflessness. Yet, he did it--and he didn't ask anything in return. It made me think that maybe, underneath everything, there was something genuine, something redeemable...and all these old feelings came flooding back. For years, I kept them walled-up. I kept telling myself that he only cares about himself-nothing more. It made it easier to push him away, to be contemptuous and not feel guilty ...but then that night-"

Gabrielle put the feather down. "What did he say just now?"

Xena gazed at the burning fire in the hearth, the flames enveloping blackened wood. "I heard him say, that if he had it to do all over again...he would." She looked up at her friend atop the table, searching for some sort of input, but all she saw was a blank stare.

"....I don't know what to say to that. This is Ares you're talking about- war himself-"

"He's not war anymore...he's just a man." Xena's eyes flickered. The words that had just spilled from her lips caught her off guard.

Gabrielle looked at the fire, got off the table, grabbed a poker and crouched. She pushed the wood logs around, sending sparks and flames to rise, before looking back.

"You mentioned old feelings. It's funny in a way. All these years we've travelled together and all the times you've faced down Ares, but you never once spoke about your past with him."

Xena leaned back against the wall, crossing her arms. "Well, I don't know. There are just some things that I find difficult to talk about."

"Even with me?"

"You don't understand what I mean. You see, when I rode with Borias, I was ruthless. That you know-that I did tell you. After Solan was born, I went back to Thrace with what was left of my army in tow. Things started there. Where there was an uncontrollable rage, Ares placed a goal. It was no longer about hate. It was about conquest. Together we would rule-first Greece, and then the rest of the known world." Xena's eyes rolled back in recollection. "I guess you could say he and I mixed our business with pleasure...We were together for a very long time. The end of my campaign was also the end of..." Xena's head rolled to the side as she stared off into the dirt again.

Gabrielle put the poker down and stood, swiping the ashes from her hands, "So all those times he's shown up over the past few years-how did you feel?"

"Tense, empty, betrayed, and amazed that the connection between us was still there on some level. Part of me wanted to run my sword through him and at the same time, part of me wanted to--" she trailed off. There were just some things that she didn't want to admit to. Xena, looked at her chakram and shrugged. "It's so hard to walk that line."

"And what just recently happened on Olympus, do you think that line has been blurred?"

Xena looked up to her friend. Her black brows came to a point as though she had an ephiny and her mouth dropped open. "I think it erased it.." Pausing, she took a breath and stood. "I can't talk about this right now. I just can't. I'm sorry."

"No, it's alright. I understand...I think," Gabrielle stuttered as she tried to change the subject to ease the tension. "Um..oh- breakfast looks done."

Nodding, Xena breathed out. "Yeah. We need to get out of here, Gabrielle. It's time to formulate a plan. So, we'll eat and try to come up with some ideas."

The bard pulled the crisped poultry off of the spit and onto a steel tray, shaking the heat from her fingers. "That sounds like a good idea." She stood, wiping the grease from her hand on the side of her skirt, and handed Xena the tray. "Ready?"

"Yea."

She gripped the tray and began walking out into the corridor, but stopped abruptly. Gabrielle nearly ran right into her. Casting a look over her shoulder, Xena whispered, "Don't mention a word of this to Ares."

"You know I would never do that.."

"I know you wouldn't. I'm just really confused by it all...I'm sorry-You know I trust you."

"I know. Now, can we get in there and eat? I'm starving." Gabrielle's stomach growled.

"Yea, of course," Xena stated with a sly smile.

The pair walked down the corridor. Shadows played on their faces as they entered the room. There was only one torch lit. Xena placed the tray down on the table and looked over at Ares who sat on his cot. He looked rather bored as he watched a spider make its way down the wall.

"You alright, " Xena questioned as she and Gabrielle both pulled out chairs and sat.

Slowly, Ares turned to face her. He let a deep breath escape his lips as he wearily nodded and stood. He made his way to the table, pulled out a chair across from Xena, and sat. The wood creaked under his weight while he settled into it.

Gabrielle's brows rose as, once again, an unspoken conveyance seemed to pass between Xena and the ex-Olympian. She shook her head, reached down into her satchel that sat at the foot of the table, and pulled out three metal dishes. She sat the first two down and paused before setting the third in front of Ares.   A third dish had not been necessary since Eve left. The bard shrugged the thought off and readjusted herself in her seat.

"Alright guys, chow time," she prompted, opening her hands up, then reaching for her own piece.

Both Xena and Ares went for the same piece at the same time. Their hands bumped and there was a brief pause before they both retracted.

Extending her chin, she raised her hand. "You go ahead and take that one."

"No, it's alright, Xena," Ares insisted, picking up the other bird. He pulled a piece off of the bone, popped it into his mouth, and licked the grease off his fingers.

Still a bit shaken from what happened earlier, Xena hesitated before reaching for her own. Lowering her eyes she simply replied, "Thanks". She looked back and got up out of her chair, grabbing three cups off a nearby shelf. She sat them on the table and grabbed a pitcher of water that Gabrielle had set there the night before. She filled each glass and sat back down, pulling her plate toward her.

"Thanks," Ares breathed out as he lifted the cup to his lips.

She swallowed a piece of food and nodded. "No problem." She looked from face to face as she picked at her food. Pursing her lips, she reached for her own cup of water and pretty much chugged it. Xena set the cup back down, satisfied, and cleared her throat.

"Alright, we need to figure out what we're going to do."

Gabrielle looked up from her plate. "Any ideas, Xena?"

Ares' stared expectantly at the Warrior Princess as she cocked her head and answered, "Actually, I need more background information first."

"What do you mean," he asked, knowing the question was directed at him.

Xena took another bite of her food before elaborating. "Well, Ares, we know the bare facts. We know that Menelaus wants you dead so he can claim he 'conquered war' and make the Spartans believe it's retribution for the Trojan War." She paused as he nodded and then continued, "Now, Sparta is and was a monarchy, but Menelaus now uses a high council-"

"Turning it over from a monarchy to a democracy after his reign is over it would seem," Gabrielle stated in realization.

Xena raised a brow and nodded. "Most likely because he never produced an heir. Now, utilizing a council makes me tend to believe that, to carry out such a thing as dispatching you, he'd need a go-ahead from these men."

"Yea- remember that man in the square, Xena? What was his name..Pha..Pha..Phaz-"

Interrupting, Ares spat, "Phazon."

"That was it. He mentioned that he knew what was happening and seemed rather pleased about it. So, yes, I do think this was discussed and approved by the council like you suggest," Gabrielle responded, wiping her hands on a piece of cloth.

Xena pursed her lips and set her eyes directly onto Ares, waiting for an answer. He sat the pitcher back down after refilling his cup and obliged her. "Yes, Sparta does use a high council for matters such as these. It's comprised of four men total, two of which are supreme advisors."

"Is Phazon one of those two," Xena asked.

Ares bobbed his head. "Yes, he is. He was all for my execution."

"So there was some sort of vote then...alright, well, was it unanimous?"

"All they would tell me was that I was to be executed by Menelaus' command, but interestingly enough, I did overhear a conversation between two guards one day."

"What did they say?"

Ares coughed, took a breath and answered, "That they found it odd that in the midst of an important meeting, one of the advisors walked out in a rage and would be taking a leave of absence until 'matters' had settled."

Xena's eyes narrowed as she leaned back in her seat and tapped her fingers across the top of the table. "Interesting...Sounds like someone was opposed to Menelaus' plan. Know the name?"

"Well, since it's pretty apparent that it wasn't Phazon, the only other person it could be is a man named Nikolaus."

Xena's eyes lowered in thought. Coming to some sort of silent conclusion, she tilted her head and shrugged. "Well, it's plausible that he didn't want to go along with your execution and chose to leave until it was over. Perhaps this is something we can work with."

Gabrielle drank from her cup and sat it down. She wiped the corners of her mouth with the back of her hand before asking, "What are you getting at, exactly?"

Looking across the table at Ares, whose brow was raised as he chewed, Xena explained, "We must face the facts. On the long side of Sparta's border, there's nothing but a lengthy mountainside too steep to traverse. On the other, we're blocked by the sea, and on the north and south there are stationed guards. We're trapped and that's all there is to it. What we need is an ally that wields some power over the people."

"And you think that this Nikolaus is that ally," Ares asked.

Leaning back in her chair and adjusting a leather strap on her battle dress, Xena again shrugged. "Right now, he seems like the only option we have. I mean think about it- a glorious celebration to commemorate your execution and he misses it-after getting into an argument the night your judgment was passed down. He must have been against it- or at least against the majority for something."

Ares ran a hand along the side of his face thoughtfully. "So, what do you have in mind? We just waltz right back into Sparta to talk to a man that might, or might not, side with us?" He leaned against the edge of the table and fixed his eyes on Xena's before continuing, "You can still get out of this."

"I already told you that it's my decision to stay. We'll figure out a way to get to Nikolaus," she firmly stated. Looking towards the bard, she continued, "but you, Gabrielle-."

She raised a hand. "Xena, we've been through worse than this. You know that. We faced down Olympus and managed to walk away."

Xena looked at Ares. "Just barely and only because he decided to help us."

He lowered his head and gripped the edge of the table. Quietly, he mumbled something to himself.

"What," Xena asked.

"Nothing."

"What did you say," she asked again.

Ares abruptly stood up and spun around. He raised his hands to his head, running them through his hair. Pushing out a breath, he spun back to face Xena, the flames from the torches casting shadows upon his face. "I don't know why you won't just detach yourself from this. I did what I did on Olympus because I couldn't stand to lose -- I brought down the pantheon so you would survive. Don't make it have been all for nothing! Just GO Xena!"

She followed his lead and stood herself, mouth agape. "Whatever happens to me, what you did there was not for nothing. Don't you know that what you did was for the greater good of the people?!"

Ares' jaw flickered. "The greater good of the people? How am I supposed to know if that was what was best for the people?! All I know, is that everything I knew has been thrown into chaos. My family and home are gone and, in some way, I played a part in bringing it all down--NOW the REASON I did it might meet her end anyway!!"

Xena took a shaky breath. "For whatever the reason, I can't walk away, Ares. Our chances aren't necessarily good, but at least there is a chance at all. We'll find this Nikolaus-"

"We'd be captured on first sight. You know that, Xena!"

Gabrielle, who'd been watching the entire display, remained seated. Silently, she nodded to herself before interrupting, "I don't think anyone saw me."

Pulling her stare from Ares', Xena looked down at her friend. "What?"

"I don't think anyone saw me in Sparta. Not enough to associate me as being involved with the escape, anyway. Everyone was focused on the both of you and by the time you guys got to the horses, my back was turned."

"What are you trying to get at," the warrioress inquired, pulling her seat toward Gabrielle and sitting.

Taking a moment to think things through, the bard closed her eyes. She processed her thoughts quickly and shifted in her seat. Looking Xena directly in the face, she determinedly responded, "Send me. I'll find Nikolaus."

***********************************************************

Her delicate hands were pressed firmly against the stone laden sill of the window overlooking Sparta's main square. A deep sigh passed over pouting lips as her eyes held fast to the erected gallows tree below. The commoners went about their way walking past the portentous structure as if it did not even exist. It was another day in Sparta. A day that would soon be drawing to a close. Stands selling what fruits, vegetables and breads they had, were still opened for business. The drought that had fallen over the land had certainly minimized stocks, yet the work day went on as usual.

Still, her eyes loomed and stared at the sight below, but now, something caught her eye, causing a disturbed feeling to pass over her. Two small boys had climbed to the top of the gallows and were now engaged in a game of catch. How symbolic that innocents such as these had no sense of what serious retribution a structure such as that was meant for. She couldn't look any longer.

Turning away from the window, Queen Taris leaned back against the sill, closed her eyes and brought her hands to her belly. No louder than a breath she uttered, "Oh my dear little one. I desire only beauty and harmony in your life."

Hearing the impending arrival of someone into the main hall where she stood, she quickly regained her composure and stood upright. The echoing foot steps drew nearer and now a shadow crawled upon the floor and up a wall. Her green eyes watched as the dark form sprawled up a tapestry, until finally its owner came into view.

Taris squinted her eyes thinking, perhaps, they betrayed her. As she realized that what she saw was indeed who she thought, her lips curled up in a half-hearted smile.

"You're back," she called out.

The figure approached. He was dressed in a splendid green silk chiton with corded silver draped from shoulder to waist. The man extended his hands, taking the queen's in his own, and squeezed them softly.

"Yes, I'm back, but the question is--is it over?"

Taris' hands dropped down to her sides as she turned around and faced the window. "As I'm sure you've seen, the gallows are still up. I thought you would have surely heard word that Ares escaped."

The man ran a tanned hand through his black hair. Grey strands threaded through the curly locks. He walked up to the window, placing an arm along side the wall to lean on. He gazed out into the square and his blue eyes reflected the warm light of the sun. The rays kissed his face as he moved to speak.

"Actually, I made quite sure to keep myself uninformed until returning here to Sparta."

Taris looked up to his face. "Why?"

He lowered his own head to meet her stare. "Because I know that, when seeking the truth of matters that pertain to Sparta and her people, there is no better informant than the illustrious queen herself."

Taris bowed her head, slightly embarrassed. A small smile crept along her face. Shyly, she looked up from under her lashes to see that he too was smiling. The prominent lines that drew from each eye were telling of not only his years, but of a man who simply loved to grin.

She took a moment and clasped her hands at her waist as the moment passed and serious matters took hold. "Oh, Nikolaus, it's all such a mess here and Ares did indeed escape."

"Well, doesn't that just put a dent in old Menelaus' plans? Pity."

"Ah, your sarcasm is showing."

He placed his had over his chest and smirked. "My dear lady, you know it is one of my finer qualities when it comes to dear old Menelaus. So, you say he escaped. What happened?"

"It was the warrior woman-- Xena. She somehow managed to not only free Ares from the noose, but also got him out of here safely. It was quite a display."  

Nikolaus took a minute to digest the news. Thoughtfully running a finger over his chin he again smiled. "Quite intriguing."

Taris tilted her head, not completely understanding what he meant. "How so?"

He turned his face to the window again and stared up at the ominously rolling white clouds. Taking a moment to appreciate the beauty of the sight, the corners of his mouth turned up. "Well, tales of this Xena are quite well known by their own account, but what was also most fascinating about this woman, was that she was, at one point, Ares' chosen warrior. She was to conquer all of Greece and would have succeeded. I don't know the entire history, but I do know that she left those ways behind."

"Right, she's known for helping those who can't help themselves, much like Hercules."

"Yes. Now, it's also well known that these two became adversaries. But, the twist came when-"

Taris closed her eyes. "He gave up his immortality for her."

"Correct. These turn of events are most interesting."

Lowering her head, the Queen of Sparta took a breath. "Interesting turn of events...yes. Well, I suppose I know all about that myself..."

He lowered a brow and beckoned her to sit on a plush velvet divan that sat against the wall. "What do you mean?"

She sat down, her lips pressed tightly together in thought. Finally, looking toward the ceiling, she shook her head. "There's so much you don't know. Menelaus-"

"Well look who's back," a man called out from the main hall's archway.

Both Nikolaus and Taris looked up in surprise to find Phazon standing in regal attire, looking as smug as ever. Smoothing down his robes, he walked up to the pair and grinned patronizingly.

"Phazon," Nikolaus acknowledged, monotoned.

"What happened, Niko? I thought you had no taste for...what was the phrase you used during the meeting? Oh yes! You had no taste for 'displays of inhumane power'. What happened?"

Staring up at Phazon, he clenched his jaw. "I still do not. I figured that by now, with such competent people in charge, this farce of a trial and execution would be over."

The small statured man laughed. "Oh it's far from over. The fun has just started. We'll find Ares and this time, perhaps, you'll stay around for the show."

Taris' was not amused. "Is this necessary?!" She stood and crossed her arms, waiting for a reply.

"Frankly, 'queen', I think it is. But, I suppose that it can be discussed later. Right now, I'm here to convey other news."

Setting her jaw, she tapped her foot. "Well??"

Phazon once again smirked and made his way to sit on the window sill. He, too, crossed his arms and raised his brows. "Well, seems as though you made quite the error in judgment. I must say, the king will be none too pleased when he returns home to find that the palace wheat stocks are depleted."

Her eyes contracted, leaving only glints peering through thick, dark lashes. "What do you mean? The people needed to eat! You know what the drought has done."

"Yes, yes. But, did it ever occur to you that your husband had these matters under hand?" Seeing Taris' face lower, he went on, "Ah yes, you're not readily made aware of these details are you. Well, your husband, as you know, left to Pylos to barter. This morning wagons laden to the brim with wheat came through the gates."

"Why wasn't I notified of this."

"Because, if you'd merely trust your husband you wouldn't make such errors, my dear queen," Phazon rudely replied.

Nikolaus had heard enough and stood. "She was only doing what she felt was right. Just back off. It's apparent that all you care about is ascending to power here in Sparta. Don't come off pretending to truly care about the people."

"What would you know about what I care or care not for," Phazon shot back, squaring his shoulders.

"Because, you are transparent. Everything you do is for yourself. You take to this city as though it were your own. Drinking, indulging in the tax funds and putting your hands on anything with two breasts--"

Phazon's nostrils flared and a line across his brow began to throb. "And just what about yourself, Niko?! You stand here casting disparaging remarks about my character and what I stand for yet you- The only words you offer the council are ones promoting Sparta's well-being, and when we attempt to bring it into fruition, you run with your tail between your legs calling it murder!"

Nikolaus, again, clenched his jaw and took a step toward Phazon. He was quite taller than the man and his blue eyes loomed down angrily. "It is murder- anyway you want to present it. You can't cover it up by saying it's to promote Menelaus' reputation as a leader. You can't tell me true that it would serve as retribution for those lost in the Trojan War. We all know who is to blame for that!"

Now Phazon smirked. He wanted to hear Nikolaus verbally blame Menelaus. He wanted to hear it so he could report it back to the king and thus, get him kicked off the high council.

"Go on! Say it! Just say it once-that's all I need. The queen is standing right here as witness." Phazon turned to smile at Taris and ran a hand along the side of her face. "You will serve as witness won't you? You won't stand to hear your husband be slandered will you?"

Taris jerked her head away from Phazon's touch. "You'll do well to remind yourself of just whose wife you dare lay a finger on now."

His hand still extended, he curled his fingers to the palm. He smiled warily, realizing he was pushing it, and brought his arm back down to his side. "Quite right." He cleared his throat and tried to change the subject. "Well, as much as I do love these talks, it's nearly dusk and there are other preparations I need to make."

"Such as," Taris asked dryly.

"Yes, why don't you tell us. Perhaps we can help," Nikolaus chimed in sarcastically.

"Well, if you must know. Along with the wheat, your husband has bought a new servant. I'm to take her lodging arrangements under hand and tell her what is expected of her."

Taris scoffed. "Don't you dare do what's on your mind."

"My mind? Of course I wouldn't.." Phazon grinned and began to walk out of the room. At the archway he turned once more and concluded, "at least not on the first night."

With that, he smugly laughed and continued on his way, leaving Taris and Nikolaus remaining within the hall. Both wore disgusted expressions.

"If Sparta was ever to be ruled by that man, I can't even fathom what would happen," Taris stated, crossing her arms.

Placing his hands along either side of the window, Nikolaus looked back out into the square. The sun was now beginning to descend from the sky. The purple, orange, and pink hues danced along the stone walls and window panes.

"Do you recall a time when Sparta knew peace?"

She lowered her head and sucked on her bottom lip. "Try as I might, that memory slips further with each new day. The people think they are prospering, but if they only realized what I know as truth."

Eyes still set on the setting sky, he replied, "Perhaps, one day, their eyes will be opened."

***********************************************************

Walking between the imposing marble pillars of the Spartan palace, Cassia gawked at the decadent artwork and tapestries that lined the walls. Clutched firmly under her arms was a brown fur satchel. It was filled with the few possessions she owned. She took in the sights around her and the sound of her echoing footsteps. Phazon walked beside the young woman, explaining what would be expected of her. The man's words fell deafly from his mouth. She was too enamored with her new surroundings.

Suddenly, she felt a hand grip her arm, exerting slight pressure. She had been deep in thought and this startled her enough to make her jump. With a thud, her satchel fell to the floor, its contents spilling out onto the stone floor. Cassia trailed after her belongings.

While pushing garments back into the sack, she looked up. "I'm sorry, what did you just say?"

Phazon crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. "I asked if you were paying attention, which, apparently, you were not."

She slowly stood, placing the handle of the satchel over her shoulder. Bowing her head she responded, "I'm truly sorry. I was just taking in the sights. My most sincere apologies, sir."

"That will simply not do, girl. I don't know what kind of rules they impose in Pylos, but here in Sparta you must always be at attention."

Cassia bit her lip. "It won't happen again."

"Good, now let's be on our way."

"Of course."

The pair began to walk down the hall again and Phazon resumed his speech. "As I was saying, you'll be on call at all times. Most of your chores will consist of cleaning, dressing, and at times, even cooking. In other words, everything." Approaching a wooden door he stopped. Lit torches burned brightly on either side of it. He pushed it open and continued, "These are the servant quarters. Just go on in and find yourself a cot. If there are anymore questions, ask your superiors."

With that Phazon extended an arm directing the girl to enter. As she made her way under the door frame, she jumped in shock as she felt the man's hand groping her backside. Cassia's mouth dropped open and she whipped her head around, her eyes bulging. He merely removed his hand, brushed his fingers across his moustache and laughed as he turned on his heel and left.

Cassia's eyes lowered bemusedly before she turned back around to investigate her new arrangements. The room was enormous. It was dark and dimly lit with only a few scant torches offering light. Wood beams lined the walls. There were ten cots lining the length of one wall, and another ten on the opposite. No one else, save for herself, was in the room and she took the opportunity to scoff.

First impression?

"Twenty people in one room!? They must be joking!"

She shook her head incredulously and walked down the isle between the beds trying to find an open spot. Cot after cot had personal items atop the cotton sheets until finally, and much to her dismay, she found one toward the middle of the room.

"Well, here's hoping my neighbors don't snore."

She flopped herself on the cot and winced, realizing the surface was much harder than she had anticipated. In Pylos, the cots were stuffed with the soft down of feathers. There were only two to a room, but here...Not only would she be sharing a room with over a dozen others, but the beds were stuffed with straw.

Cassia rolled onto her side, propping her head up on her hand. A long sigh escaped her pouting lips. She closed her hazel eyes in silent reflection. How she missed her family. She'd once been free.

Her mother had passed on during the birth of what would have been her brother. The child had not made it through the labor either. At the time, Cassia was merely three, so her memories of her mother only stemmed from her greatest source of strength, her father. He worked every single day, either doing blacksmith or leather work for the people in a subsidiary town on the outskirts of Mycenae. He was small in stature, but so great in heart. His smiles could outshine the sun itself and although they weren't necessarily well-off, he always managed to bring home something special for each of his daughters.

The corners of Cassia's mouth turned upward as she remembered her sister Alexandra. She called her Alex for short and completely looked up to her older sibling. Well, she was older by ten minutes, that is. Her sister was also her identical twin and they were the best of friends. The young servant fondly remembered all the times they role-played in the grassy field behind their homestead. Whereas Cassia had wanted to be like the Bard of Poteidaia, Alex wanted to grow up to be just like Xena of Amphipolis. Both girls would pretend they were on the prowl for war mongers and righting wrongs.

Then, a day came that their role playing became all too real and Cassia's world was changed forever.

Everyday, they went to town with their father while he went to work on shoeing horses or mending saddles. Cassia and her sister were both twelve. Once again, the girls were running about pretending to be the heroes they aspired to be. Cassia carried a tree limb which served as her staff, while Alex waved about the wooden sword their father had made her. The tip had been rounded so as to prevent any injury.

Playing in the street, the girls were embroiled in a game of 'fight for the greater good', until they heard a scream. A local woman had caught sight of a large army making their move toward the city. Those in earshot immediately stopped what they were doing.

The townspeople ran to take shelter while few remained to see what was going on. Both Cassia and Alex, being fearful of nearly nothing, stood in the middle of the street curiously as the riders approached. What better way to continue their game?

The men rode in on a cloud of dust. Their armor shined under the sun's glare. Their leader was enough to frighten any normal child. He brought his mount to a halt right at the feet of the two little girls, who were too transfixed to move.

"People of Mycenae, I'm sure you're well aware that we aren't here to simply take in your simple pleasures," the man stated as he patronizingly chuckled.

Alex raised her wooden sword and waved it about. "Get outta my town!"

Cassia gasped at her twin sister's indignation. She clasped her small hand over her sister's mouth and shook her head. "Alex!"

The leader of the motley crew laughed again. The army, comprised of over three-dozen men, joined in as well. He jumped from his mount and began to make his way toward the girls in slow, intimidating steps, a feral gleam in his eyes.

Cassia took note of the dark greasy hair pushed back behind his ears and how the stench of alcohol burned her nostrils. Scars littered his face, covered in spots by unkept stubble. The gritty sound of his footsteps trodding across the dirt street echoed in her ears. The man stopped in front of the two girls and sneered.

"Who are you supposed to be," he questioned, eyeing Alex over as she continued to wave her sword.

"Xena," Alex shouted back as convincingly as she could.

The man laughed. "The 'Warrior Princess'??"

"That's right. So, if you know what's best for ya, you'll get outta my town," the little girl stated as her black hair fell about her face.

Turning his back to her, he looked to the small group of onlooking commoners. "Is this Mycenae's only form of protection nowadays? Where's your royal guard? You let your children defend you? PATHETIC!"

It was then that Alex ran up behind the man. She placed her sword between his legs and then forcefully swung upward, subsequently injuring the 'family jewels'. He fell to the ground cupping his crotch and winced in pain.

Laughter sprung out from some of the army members, while the simple townspeople looked on unable to say a word. Cassia's eyes were wide in shock, but her sister stood there as pleased as could be. Alex twirled her weapon in her hand, and grinned as she raised it skyward.

As the throbbing began to slowly subside, the leader of the group reached for his sword and spun around. He was seething with anger.

Spit flew from his mouth as he spat, "You forget little girl! Xena's dead!"

It was then, that something Cassia had never thought possible, happened. She had never encountered a being that was completely apathetic. She was a child, too young to realize what a blackened heart could do.

Alex, so brave and cocky, only managed to bat an eyelash as his sword came down, ending her days.

Her own, carved out of wood, rolled from her limp hand.

Cassia cried out in horror. She looked from the body of her sister to the man standing over her. She shook her head in utter disbelief and tears began to pour like rain as she raced to find her father. She screamed over and over, "Daddy!!!! Daddy!!!!!!"

Still in the forge, he had been working and was unaware of the army that had ridden in. The noise of pounding metal and sizzling coals drowned out sounds from beyond the shop, so, it wasn't until Cassia threw open the door that he stopped his work.

He dropped the mallet from his hand, ran up to his daughter and picked her up. He'd seen the tears and the look of shock on her face. "Cassia!? What is it!? What's wrong??"

She couldn't speak. Her words would not come. Her father's eyes lowered as he tried to read what it was that was that had upset her.

"Cassia!? What's wrong?!" It was then he realized that Alex, who normally never left Cassia's side, was nowhere to be seen. "Where's Alexandra?!"

Weakly, and between the wracking sobs that pounded through her, Cassia pointed. He looked to where she directed and a feeling of dread came over the smith. Carefully, he lowered her to the ground and told her to stay there.

She didn't realize that it would be the last time she'd ever see her father.

Cassia had sat within the forge for nearly a candlemark, listening to the screams of the people as the town was sacked. In the corner, her legs pulled up to her chest, she lowered her face into her knees and continued to cry. Hearing footsteps, she meekly lifted her head, wiping the tears away from her eyes.

"Daddy?"

The shadowed soldier grinned and called out toward the street, "Got another one right here! She'll make for some dinars at the slave auction!"

Cassia wiped a tear from her face. It had been fourteen years since that day...fourteen years of being traded from city to city with each new barter. As soon as she made friends she found herself being separated from them, but still, she would not lose hope. .

She rolled onto her back and gazed at the ceiling. Swallowing back the lump in her throat, she closed her eyes and whispered, "One day, I will be free."

***********************************************************

Xena sat on the edge of a chair with one leg reclined atop the wooden surface of the nearby table. She idly ran a finger along her chakram which was firmly gripped in her other hand and took in her own reflection.

"It won't be long now."

"Xena, as much as I'd like to believe that.."

She cast Ares a sideways glance. He too, was sitting. Propped on the end of the wooden railed cot, he held his head in his hands ruminating. The flames from the lit torches on either wall cast flickering shadows across his down turned face.

"We'll get out of here. Just trust me." She set her chakram down on the table, stood and stretched. Her eyes fell to a piece of parchment she had written on earlier. Scanning over it once more, she took a breath of anticipation.

From the entrance way, Gabrielle announced herself. "Alright, my horse is saddled and I found the staffs you were talking about." She gripped a tall wooden pole, much like the old staff she once carried.

"Good. That should make it more convincing that you aren't a threat." Xena had earlier informed the bard that she had to leave her sais behind because, otherwise, she'd be seen as suspicious. The warrior smirked. "How does it feel to carry a staff again? It's been a long time."

Gabrielle eyed the item over, bouncing its weight in her hand and then giving it a twirl. "Feels mighty good, actually. I don't know why it's been so long."

"Well, it's good to know you haven't lost your touch with it. Now, you gotta cover up. Lemme see.." Xena walked past Ares, who remained silent. She made her way to the trunk in the corner of the room, opened it and began to rummage through. "Ok, this should work." She pulled out a black cloak and tossed it. It landed in the bard's free hand.

Gabrielle raised a brow as she inspected the article of clothing. "Looks like it's one size fits all," she jested.

Xena stood and wiped the dust from her hands causing the dry, itchy particles to climb up her nose. She jerked her head to the side and sneezed through a small laugh. "Yup. You're sure to be a fashion don't in that. But, it will serve its purpose in keeping your identity secret." She sat on edge of the table, her eyes roaming over Ares' silent form. "You ok?"

He scratched the side of his face and shrugged. "As well as can be expected."

Xena pushed a lock of black hair from her face, picked up the parchment from the table and walked over to Gabrielle who was in the process of putting on the cloak.

"Alright, here's the note to Nikolaus. You're walking into dangerous territory. You know this. You also know that your truest gift is in your quick wit. Utilize it." Xena handed her the parchment. She looked at one of the nearby cots. An idea popped into her head and she pulled a cotton sheet from the top and balled it up.

Gabrielle smirked, took the item, and shoved it under the cloak. "Reading your mind."

The warrioress softly snickered. "Yup, but what else is new? A pregnant woman on the road--hardly a threat."

Nodding, the bard grinned. "Scary thing is, this isn't the first time this idea's come in handy." She centered the bulge and ran a hand over it. "I was hitch-hiking one day, trying to find you, and the only way I could get someone to stop was to pretend I was with child."

Xena smiled and pointed as she remembered. "Oh yea! I remember that. Leave it to you to work all the angles."

Ares raised a brow and stood. "All joking aside, do you think this is going to work?"

"It has to," the warrioress simply stated.

Gabrielle slung the strap of her satchel over her shoulder, raised her hands, as well as her brows, and did a turn. "So, whaddya think?"

"You look like you couldn't harm a fly," Xena relayed. She rolled her eyes up as she did a mental check list. Her fingers drummed rhythmically on her side. "Alright, got water? That left over bread from the other day? Note?"

"Yes. Thirty year old water never tasted so good. Yes. Although, that bread is about to grow mold. And yes-- the parchment is in my satchel." She patted the item and reached for her staff with the other hand.

Xena took a deep breath and then exhaled just as forcefully. "Ok then. Once you find Nikolaus, get an answer and come right back. You'll need to make sure you aren't followed of course. I'll wait up for you."

Gabrielle nodded. "Alright, let's do this."

"I'll walk you out." Xena looked back at Ares. "Be right back."

He sucked on his bottom lip thoughtfully, bobbed his head and went to pour himself a cup of water. "Well, as always, I'll be right here," he responded.

"Alright, let's go."

Xena put a hand on Gabrielle's shoulder, and together the two friends made their way from the room and into the corridor. They walked in silence all the way to the stairwell, listening to the sound of the dirt floor being crunched under the tread of their boots. Xena gazed at the wooden support beams that ran along the height of the walls and across the ceiling. She took note of the splinters that ran through the oak, pointed out by the shadows that fell across them.

At the base of the stairs, Xena lifted a hand to the shelf against the wall. She grabbed one of the many lanterns and offered it to Gabrielle who readily took it.

"Just in case you need it. Got flint rocks?"

"Yes, Xena. I'll be fine." The bard regarded her. Her normally stoic friend had a look of worry on her face that she was probably suppressing before. "C'mon, where's that confident gleam?"

Leaning against the wall alongside the stairs, Xena shook her head and crossed her arms. "This has to work. At the moment, I don't see any other way."

Gabrielle put a hand on her friend's shoulder empathetically. "It will work. We always make it through somehow."

Taking another deep breath, the smell of musty leather and mold filled Xena's nose. "We can't stay in here forever. So, yes, it's gotta work. There's just so much going on right now..I mean this morning--our talk--it's something that needed to be expressed and I'm glad we finally talked it out. It just makes me thankful to know that you're still willing to see this through... when you could just leave if you wanted."

"Xena...I do now realize that I need to find my own way, but that doesn't erase all we've been through over the years. I told you this morning, and I'll tell you again..." The bard paused momentarily and looked into her best friend's eyes, finding a grateful gleam. Determinedly, she concluded, "If this is to be our last great adventure, lets see it out together."

Xena put her hand over the bard's own which still rested on her shoulder, and smiled. "I'm so thankful for a friend like you. Please, be careful."

"Always."

"Alright then. Let's get this plan into action, shall we?"

Gabrielle nodded. She adjusted her satchel, the pseudo pregnancy, and reached for the handle of the stairs. "I know what to do. Are you going to be alright here alone with Ares?"

Xena's eyes opened wide. She didn't expect that last question and consequently, didn't know how to answer it either. "Uh, yeah... I spose so."

The bard started up the stairs, only to look back down once more, smiling. "I'm sure you two could find a lot of interesting things to talk about." It was then she continued on her way, ascending the stairs and disappearing into the shadows.

Xena stood in place, gazing up into the black recesses with a perplexed expression. "A lot of interesting things to talk about," she softly whispered to herself.

She lowered a brow and looked back down the corridor towards where Ares waited. Her heart beat begin to quicken--another thing to catch her off guard. She tried to calm down, not even knowing exactly why she was suddenly so nervous. It wasn't the kind of nervous energy that arose from warfare or making a plan go through. No, this was the kind one gets when...

She shook her head again, closed her eyes and muttered, " 'Interesting' doesn't even begin to describe what Ares and I could talk about."

Xena reluctantly pried herself off the wall, inhaled and started walking down the corridor. Nearing the entrance to the room, her hands ran up her breast plate, tugged and adjusted.

Why are you boosting your cleavage, she silently chastised.

She bobbed her head back and forth, prompting her long black tresses dance over her shoulders, and peered in. There Ares stood, running his hands over an old burgundy war banner in a thoughtful manner.

Clutching her hand in a fist, she knocked on the wood support beam which ran up the length of the entrance way. She felt it necessary to make her presence known. Ares slowly turned to face her and meekly offered a smile.

"I see you're back."

Xena hesitantly entered and walked up to the table. Her fingers glided over the surface of the wooden top before running up the base of a water pitcher that sat in the middle. She gripped the handle and poured herself a cup.

"Yea." She quickly brought the item to her lips and drank. Her eyes darted about the room until they once again settled on him. "How are you holding up?"

Ares shrugged, walked to the table, and picked up his own cup which he had filled earlier. He ran a finger idly round the lip of it. "Well, I'd be lying if I didn't say that I was nervous. You've tried to convince me that this will all be over soon, but, Xena-" He paused, bringing the cup to his mouth, feeling his breath circumvent across his lips as he stared her straight in the eye. "I could always tell when you were doubtful."

"I don't know what to tell you, Ares. This is a nasty situation."

"A situation that I told you time and time again, didn't concern you." He tipped the cup and drank deeply.

"It does concern me."

Ares' brows arched and he set the drink down. "How do you figure? Don't you understand that you could have just walked away??"

The emptiness in his eyes was undeniable.  "Don't you see that I couldn't?"

Maybe he didn't want to--maybe that emptiness sucked all sincerity in and threw it away.

He rolled his shoulders and gazed up at the ceiling. The tension was near unbearable. It was hard enough to keep all that he was thinking and feeling bottled up inside, and Xena's sentimental comments continued to chip away at the wall he'd built. He had already let go of one home...he wasn't prepared to relinquish another...then again, this one was more of a prison.

Ares ran a hand through his hair and turned his back to her. Emotions-- better guarded when they can't be seen.

"You say that you couldn't leave, but we both know that isn't true. You could have left the first time I told you to. I know how you feel about me, Xena. I know that you see me as an enemy. For that reason, there is no other way that I can rationalize what you're doing now than to think that it's because you feel pity." He turned on his heel to face her and concluded, "Well, it's not necessary."

Her mouth dropped open. She noisily set her cup down and crossed her arms. When wearing her stoic facade she felt less vulnerable.

"Why do you keep thinking that? I told you before it wasn't out of pity. You say that you can always tell when I'm doubtful--well, then you'd know that I was being sincere as well."

"C'mon Xena...You've told me plenty of times how much I make your skin crawl. You can not tell me that what you're doing is out of compassion. You used to mock the word." He extended his arms and slowly did a complete turn. "Just look around us. Everything here is a reminder of days past--of how we both used to be. But some things never change and after years of carrying your sword against me, you're now using it in my defense?" He shook his head. "No. I must look really pathetic to you for you to go to such lengths to stand by my side."

"Why would you say that," Xena shot back, placing her hands on the table and leaning on them.

"Because...how could I think otherwise?? Believe me, I am grateful that you saved my life, but, at the same time, what you did had me completely perplexed. So, I figure you did it out of pity. I don't think you felt like you owed me anything. It's not your style, and I did plenty of awful things to you in the past that the loss of my immortality just barely makes up for."

Ares could feel a spurt of pain run up his side, but refrained from wincing.  He already felt pathetically helpless and the last thing he wanted was proof of it displayed before her eyes. Keeping the pain masked prompted a sense of triumph, though, one he took little pleasure in.

Xena's fingers drummed on the top of the table. "Yes, you did do plenty of things in the past that were nothing less than atrocious but--" She paused and moved to scratch her arm. It didn't really itch, but she was nervous and found it the best way to work out the energy without him noticing.

"But what?"

She took a deep breath as her eyes raked over the old weaponry, battle gear and banners that lined the room. Shelf after shelf held war waging necessities such as flasks of Greek Fire. A thick coat of dust enveloped it all. It was almost symbolic.

"But...I'm not exempt either," she breathed, regarding him again. "I think about my past all the time. I think about the innocents who fell by my sword, the cities that fell by my order."

"But that was all part of the plan, Xena. So, I am just as much to blame for that as well."

"I was known as the Destroyer of Nations before I ever breathed your name. You had nothing to do with who I was then. If anything...you replaced that rage with focus."

"No, I replaced it with greed."

Xena bit her lip. "That's true." She watched as he closed his eyes and continued, "But the person I was then had more morals than the person you had first found...however few they were."

Ares threw his hands up. "You call using tactics to gain trust morals? If anything, it was the ability to deceive.." He started to pace along the length of the table as his fingers threaded through his hair. "I need to get out of here."

Before Xena could utter a single word, he started off toward the corridor and, on instinct, she followed suit, nearly clipping his heels as she roughly grabbed his arm. 

"Where are you going??"

"I just need to breathe," he stated, coming to an abrupt halt. "You're welcome to come, but I just need out of this...this...sarcophagus."

"Alright, let me just grab my water skin. I'll meet you outside."

He looked at her then, and the way he did so caused her stomach to tighten. It was almost like he was expecting her to do or say something more. Part of her wanted to scream, 'what,' but her tongue was idle. Instead, her eyes scanned him again and the answer to her silent question was answered.

Xena let go of his arm, angered at her own mindless embarrassment. Ares didn't seem to notice though. No, he didn't seem to notice much of anything--not that she could tell anyway. He had already turned and walked away.

She watched as the light dimmed against his back with each step, till finally, he was engulfed in black.  Perhaps there was more symbolism to be witnessed here, but if so, there was little time to ponder it. 

Xena quickly retrieved her waterskin and darted back into the corridor. The stairwell was basked in blue light and stepping into its glow, thoughts-- fractured by conflicting emotions-- seemed to ground her in place. She shook the feeling off like the cold, hard as it was to do so, and clumsily grabbed for the rail.

Reaching the top, Xena climbed out, finding Ares standing with his back to her, staring up at the moon. She felt inclined to say something, but before a word fell across her lips, he spoke.

"Do you know what it feels like to discover that everything you ever based your existence on was empty?"

Xena slipped the strap of her waterskin over her shoulder and stood in place, awkwardly running a finger along the leather cord. Her eyes closed. Words seemed as though they would take an eternity to come to fruition, but finally, they crawled to her tongue.

"I do know what that feels like. I feel it every time I encounter someone who's suffered at my hands...but there comes a point where you must step away from the guilt--never forget it--but step away from it. If you're always staring back at the past, you can't look ahead to find redemption." She opened her eyes and shook her head. "I don't even know if that's something you want."

Ares' eyes held fast to the forlorn moon. There was a time when he felt more imposing than the orb, and now, he was merely a dot, invisible to its glowing eye.

"You wondered why I told you to leave me that day. Maybe it was because of all the things I did as an Olympian--all the wars I raged, all of the empty conquests. Menelaus convinced those people that revenge against me was necessary and somewhere in the midst of it all... he convinced me as well."

"Ares, I won't lie to you. You did some awful things in your past. But, with warfare- there is also victory. I don't need to tell you how many faces there are to war. It can be cruel, but it can also bring freedom." She stopped and blinked before reiterating, "You could be cruel, but you also brought freedom."

Ares slowly turned to face her, like it pained him to do so. "No, Xena...Who won or lost a battle didn't mean a thing, just as long as they fought. My duties and obligations...they stopped at war, but I pushed them further to serve my own purposes. I can't deny that, can't erase that."

"So why does it matter to you now, after all this time?"

He took a moment to digest what she'd just asked. He could feel a lump starting to bulge in his throat, but pushed it back down and set his sights on the dizzying stars above. At least their light wasn't as blinding as the look in her eyes... At least he wasn't unguarded against them. Yes, he'd built a wall alright, but he could no longer deny that she held the key to its gates...perhaps they were better left open.

"I now know what it is to regret, to feel empathy. I understand what pain feels like and what loss feels like. For months, that's all that would run through my head. Y'know---once, anything I wanted was a breath away. I didn't know what it felt like to be hungry, to feel empty. But now I do, and all that remains is this gut wrenching recollection of what my greed served to do across Greece."

He stood amongst the wind swept weeds like a man on the edge of an abyss, ready to jump, and for a second, Xena wanted nothing more than to tell him it would be alright--that everything would be alright. She couldn't, though. She knew all too well what this guilt felt like and perhaps, that was the best way, the only way, she could really help him---to show that he wasn't standing on the brink alone.

"Why don't you sit down..." 

He nodded and together, both took a seat on the ground. Xena shifted on the cool earth beneath her, trying to get comfortable. Her knees came up and she draped her arms around them, propping her chin on top.

Ares sat hunched forward, legs sprawled out before him, and gazed back up at the looming moon. "There was a time when I knew exactly how many stars graced the sky and now, I wonder, are there more stars than there are regrets?" He closed his eyes and squeezed them tight as he whispered, "There are so many things that I keep inside for fear of being seen as weak."

"It's amazing how much we're alike."

Confused, he met her stare. "What do you mean?"

She pulled at the nearby weeds, uprooting them one by one and shrugged. "To some degree I know what you're going through. You know my past. What you wanted to know at the time anyway...but, when I left that path, my heart was wrenched with so much guilt I didn't think I deserved a second chance. But, I made it through and realized it would be a dishonor to all those I had oppressed to quit when my eyes had finally been opened." She watched as he bowed his head. "Ares...I didn't even think that you'd feel regret. All this time, I thought you missed what power you had. It never even occurred to me that you-"

"That I would be remorseful?" He set his jaw. "I sat in that jail and wondered how I would be remembered after I was gone. I never had to think about that before. But, so it is, and so it was.. Night after night, the same answer came. 'Mine is a name that will be spoken with hate... by those who haven't already forgotten it'." He brought his knees up, placed his elbows on top of them, and ran the fingers of each hand through his hair. "But I didn't wonder these things out of vanity...not at the end anyway.."

"It's alright...you can talk to me." 

Her words were just as startling to herself as they were to him. Then again, it seemed that tonight's moon shed light on many surprises. Maybe this was one moment in time, soon to be a memory within it, and tomorrow they would ponder why it wasn't stored with all things left unspoken.

But, that would be tomorrow...

"I was the personification of war, for eons...eons, Xena...and in two months time, everything I've ever known has seemed to slip through my fingers. There's nothing. Nothing." He dropped an arm to the ground, finding a lone rock. He threw it as far as he could and when it finally dropped to the ground in the distance, he shook his head. "I probably sound like I'm being sorry for myself- but that's not my intention."

"You don't sound like that at all. It was hard for me to come to terms knowing that, for a large part of my life, I was nothing but a monster... In some ways, though you may not be able to see it now, I was worse than you ever were."

Ares looked at her incredulously. "Xena-"

She bit her lip and stared out toward the valley's ridge. The moonlight poured down, scrutinizing the graceful waltz of the breeze-licked weeds. Flecks of blue and green seemed to coalesce, rolling like the sea. Right now, it was a sea of discontent... even though she knew the rough waters were still to come.

"I'm mortal and I let revenge cloud my eyes for years. Emotions that should have been like second nature, I was bereft of. No compassion, no empathy...there was just hate."

"What are you trying to get at?"

"That for you, having been who you were, and after all this time...if you can understand what those emotions are, then that is an amazing thing in itself. You were war and you're not supposed to feel- yet you do..."

"Yea, now that I'm mortal."

Xena looked at the wound on his face--the wound that he'd accidentally brought on himself. It wasn't nothing more than a mere scratch, hardly noticeable, but even so, its pain ran deep. He didn't speak of it and it wasn't necessary for him to do so. She had seen the frustration it had wrought with her own eyes. She remembered Ares' unguarded words, how they made her feel something she couldn't define.

Xena swallowed and, with a trembling hand, put her fingers under his chin, gently directing him to face her.

"You proved your capacity to feel... the moment you gave up Olympus."

"I did what I had to do.." he whispered.

Ares didn't dare lean into her touch and she pulled her hand away, suddenly fearing he would.

Xena's fingers drew into her palm as she lowered her arm inch by inch and attempted to rein in her scattered thoughts. "I realized long ago, that change starts by doing one good thing, for no other reason than it's the right thing to do."

As the words slipped from her mouth, she looked up into his eyes--something she regretted doing just few seconds later. The stare was intense. There, peering back, enveloping her, were eons. She couldn't even fathom what one would encounter in a span of time such as that. Could anyone even count that high? Upon pondering this undeniably silly question, another sprung up--one which made her throat suddenly tighten at the prospect of its answer.

Had she really been so callus to think Ares could be summed up in the span of a few decades? 

She sought that answer within the depths of those dark pools and with each fallen breath, she was drawn closer and closer to them till they were closed from sight--

The stare was broken. Snapping out of it, Xena's eyes grew large in shock, finding her lips mere inches away from Ares' own. She quickly sat back and feebly gathered herself to stand. The sudden absence of his body heat made its case as she felt a chill race down her spine.

Xena was at a loss for words. She ran her hands down the length of her battle dress, smoothing down the leather straps, but that wasn't enough. She still felt the nervous energy race through every inch of her body. Her fingers flew to her temples while she tried to think of something to say.

Ares broke the silence as he stood. "Xena, I'm sorry."

She lowered her hands and shook her head. "No...you didn't do anything..I don't know what just happened, but it wasn't...I'm just going to go back in the shelter now."

"Are you alright," he asked, stepping toward her.

She raised a hand, halting his approach and nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just cold."

Ares could sense that she was quite uncomfortable. He turned away and crossed his arms. With nothing more than a sideways glance he replied, "It's alright. Go on inside. I'm going to stay out here for a little while longer."

"Alright." She began to slip the waterskin from her shoulder and ask, "Do you want-"

"No...thanks."

Xena merely tipped her head. What was there that she could really say? Her mind was already awash with so many different things. Perhaps time alone would help to sort them out. Maybe it would only bring more to the forefront. Either way, she felt entirely too open standing there amongst the weeds. What she wanted was shelter and that's just where she headed. 

The light of the moon still peered down into the entrance, illuminating the stairwell and  though he didn't see it, she cast one last, perplexed stare before lowering herself in. Once on the steps, Xena reached for the handle of the hatch, but withdrew it before her fingers even skimmed the metal. She would leave it open for now...

Ares waited a few moments before looking behind him. Finding she was gone, he gazed at the sky. Had they almost kissed? He didn't know. He was simply going on what he was feeling and there, under the night sky, her words echoed back.

"Change starts by doing one good thing, for no other reason than it's the right thing to do."

Ares brought a hand to his lips and whispered, "I did it for you."

***********************************************************

"C'mon, quit doin that." Gabrielle shortened the slack of her reins, attempting to keep her mount from trying to yank grass from the ground as he slowly plodded along.

He snorted in response, causing the bard to chuckle. She was getting close to the Spartan capital. With no clouds to block them, stars blazed clearly in the sky. Shadows, pulled through the crooked limbs of trees, graced the ground. Crickets chirped, and every now and then, the bard waved her hand about to scare off flies.

She wasn't sure how she'd feel going on this trip alone. It seemed as though Xena was always by her side and, in that company, Gabrielle found it hard to be frightened. So, she found it quite comforting to discover that, although she was nervous, fear didn't make its case.

Would she feel the same after all of it was over? The bard shook her head. The talk that she and Xena had that morning was one that had been coming for a long time. She knew she was making the right choice. She was nearing her late-twenties, and after all these years, she found that the woman she'd become was a stranger.

For nearly six years, she'd been at Xena's side fighting for the greater good. Ironic, that after all that time, she now was fighting to find herself in the aftermath. She'd have to be strong, fearless... and she was up to the challenge. Gabrielle had started a journey once before, not knowing what she'd encounter and, after this conflict was over, it was time to start a new one.

Her mind had been wrapped around this since she'd left the safety of the shelter and now, her thoughts began to clear. They gave way to the sound of dull thuds as her horse set foot in front food. The leaves beneath gave way, making a crisp crackling sound. It was almost soothing in unison with the sporadic calls of birds of prey which had woken for the night's hunt.

Thud...thud...thud..

The beat went on and before Gabrielle knew it, she could see the forest line begin to give way to the flat grassy plains that encompassed Sparta. The imposing walls rose up out of nowhere it seemed, casting gigantic shadows down the path. It was almost time to see if there was truly an ally beyond them.

Gabrielle gently squeezed the reins, bringing her horse to an abrupt halt. She slowly dismounted. The leather saddle creaked as she brought her right leg to the ground, followed by her left. She flipped the reins over the gelding's head and lead him into a well covered area. The trees were dense, making for a rather good spot to leave the animal undetected. Finding a stump, she looped the reins over it, and pulled her items from the saddle.

Her hand gently ran the length of the horse's neck. "Be a good boy, and stay quiet. There's plenty of grass to eat while I'm gone." She smiled as he lowered his head, indulging in the foliage below.

Adjusting the shoulder strap of her satchel, Gabrielle clutched her staff in the other hand and set it down like a walking stick. She walked back to the road, shuddering slightly as the cool night air brushed against her with each step. The leaves rustled beneath her boot treads, alerting a passing rabbit to her presence. She watched as the animal scurried off while still keeping a steady pace toward the city.

When she turned to face forward again, she stopped in mid-stride, seeing two soldiers standing with their backs to her. The light of the moon bounced off of their armor as they made small movements. They were apparently embroiled in a conversation.

Gabrielle weighed her options. She could keep going as if they weren't there, or she could acknowledge them. Pursing her lips, she chose the latter, deciding that it would make her less suspicious if she, by her own choice, made her presence known.

"Here goes nothing," she whispered under her breath. Her right hand on the staff, she brought her left to rest on the bulge concealing her waistline. Waddling, she made her way to the guards. "Excuse me."

Both men grew quiet as they turned to face her. The first lowered his brows while the second crossed his arms and cocked his head.  

Gabrielle, now standing toe-to-toe warmly smiled. "I was wondering if you could help me."

The first man grinned. He pointed to her 'belly' and with a twinkle in his eye retorted, "Looks like someone already beat me to it."

The bard was not amused by this remark, but suppressed her objections and replaced them with fake laughter. She gently slapped the Spartan on the arm. "That's not what I meant," Gabrielle chimed.

On the opposite side of her, the second guard idly rested his sword across his shoulder. "Then what do you need?"

"Well, I was told to search out a man named Nikolaus. I'm looking for employment and was told by an old acquaintance of his that there was a possibility he'd take me in. I have no husband you see, and with the birth of my baby coming, the money is quite necessary." She could feel the old skills coming back to her. How could she have forgotten her way with words all this time? She put on her game-face and complimented each syllable with a wave of the hand and a smile.

Both men whispered something to one another before joining in another laugh. Gabrielle hadn't heard what they were talking about. She felt it pretty safe to assume, though, that they were commenting on her single status.

Still brandishing a smile, one of the guards nodded. "Ok, what you want to do is walk into the main square. Stay to your left, and the house you're looking for is nearly adjacent to the palace at the back."

"Thank you very much." Gabrielle fallaciously wobbled as she bowed her head and began to walk off toward the entrance to Sparta.

Out of the situation, she felt herself release a breath she was subconsciously holding back.

***********************************************************

Tap, tap, tap...

Nikolaus looked up from where he was seated and stared at the door as he heard the gentle noise coming from beyond the oak surface. He rolled up a scroll that he had been intently reading. Its contents revolved around Menelaus' new tax laws and barter agreements. The knock at his door had come as a welcomed break.

He got up from the desk he'd been sitting at, pulling his robes tightly about his waist. The heat from the stone hearth wrapped around his body as he stopped in front of it, setting the document on the mantel above. Nikolaus lazily dragged his fingers across the surface as he went towards the door. The pelts on the wood floor cushioned each step.

He unclasped the latch and turned the knob. Slowly, he pulled it ajar, peeking through the crack to see who it was. The figure was shrouded and the outside torches only served to cast the individual in shadows, offering no insight as to who it was. He opened the door wider and his perplexed stare eased into a curious one.

"Come in," he offered, waving the person in with a turn of the hand.

The cloaked form nodded and entered. As the door closed, a pair of delicate hands reached out from beneath the fabric and pulled down the obstructing hood.

Nikolaus smiled as the cloak was discarded. A feminine scent graced the air. He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around the slender waist. Their bodies pressed tight, he leaned in, claiming a passionate kiss.

A hand ran through her hair as he stood upright again, raking his eyes over her face. He could sense something was wrong. "Did anyone see you?"

"No...we need to talk." She walked over toward the hearth, rubbing her hands together to gain warmth.

He followed, wrapping his arms around her from behind. She leaned into him as his lips drew close to her ear. "Yes, I missed you. We really didn't get a chance to-"

Her hands came down to cup his own as she cut him off. "I'm pregnant, Nikolaus." She turned in his grasp to face him, not knowing what sort of expression would greet her.

What she saw was confusion. "Taris...but, when? How? Whose?"

She stepped out from his grasp and pushed her brown hair from her face. She took a seat on the very chair he'd been reclined in just moments before, and rested a hand upon the desk. Her eyes surveyed the room, from the soft pelts that lined the dark wooden floor, to the armor that graced the walls, before finally settling on the burning fire.

Taris took her time. "When...I'm not exactly sure..three months or so. How..according to Agnes, it's a miracle..and as to whose," she stared up at him, seeing the anticipation written clearly on his face, "yours."

He closed his eyes in momentary shock. Taking a step back he reached for a cup of water that he had poured earlier which rested on a stand beside the hearth. He drank as though he hadn't in days. She watched as he finally set the item down and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. There, on his face, was a smile.

Nikolaus strode up to her, took her hand from the desk and put it in his own. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. "It is a miracle."

The warmth of his fingers as they tenderly massaged her own only brought so much comfort. She pulled her hand away and bowed her head. "I would have told you as soon as I saw you but-"

"I know..the palace- ears on every wall," he stated as he ran a hand down her face. She leaned into his touch as a tear began to roll down. "Taris?"

"What are we going to do?! Menelaus will know the child is not his! He will surely seek its demise," she breathed out as a lump began to bob at her throat.

Nikolaus dropped to his knees. One hand remained on her face, the other gripped the hand in her lap. He shook his head. "I don't know what we're going to do."

She inhaled, attempting to draw the liquid that threatened to leak from her nose back up. "I will not give up this child! In marrying Menelaus' --that meant I had to give up being wed to you, but that never stopped my love."

"I know. It never stopped mine either. We were meant to be together. You don't need to convince me of that." He brought her hand to his lips and placed another kiss on top.

She looked into his eyes. A self-mocking chuckle mingled with the sobs. "It's almost ironic..."

"What do you mean?"

She swallowed back. "The man I love, the man I was to wed and whose child I carry, I can't be with because I'm married to my own worst enemy."

Nikolaus' eyes flickered back and forth. "We'll find a way, Taris. I promise you."

"I want to believe you. Truly, I do..but let's face the facts.. I'm married to the King of Sparta and in my womb grows a child that is not his. It's treason by his law and treason is punishable by-"

"death."

Nikolaus wrapped his arms around her, trying desperately to comfort her somehow. He was the man she was forced to give up the day that Menelaus demanded her hand in marriage. They had always wanted to grow old together and in a way, they did just that--separately and in secret.

Now, there was no way to deny it.

Nikolaus was about to say something more when, again, there came a knock on the door. He jerked his head toward the sound and just as quickly looked back at Taris.

She brought her hands to her eyes, wiping away the excess tears and whispered, "Who would that be?"

He slowly stood and shook his head. "I don't know. You'll have to go hide. Hurry, in the other room."

She knew the 'other room' all too well. She gathered the length of her gown and scurried off as quietly as possible into the bedroom. The entrance to it was adjacent to the right side of the hearth and as she ran by, the heel of her sandal caught the edge of a poker that was propped against the grey stone wall. It came down with a loud 'clang', but she didn't stop.

Taris out of sight, Nikolaus cleared his throat and moved to the door. Again, he opened it slowly, finding to his surprise, another cloaked figure. He lowered a brow and drawled out, "Yessss?"

"Are you Nikolaus?"

"Yes...what's this about," he asked in an extremely leary manner.

The figure lifted a hand. "I assure you that I pose no threat. I must speak with you. It's urgent."

"Is anyone else with you?"

"No, I came by myself."

Nikolaus opened the door completely and ushered the guest in. He crossed his arms and his brows came to a point. "What's this about?"

Gabrielle looked around the room. It was a very modest place, especially considering that Nikolaus was part of the Royal High Council. She, in truth, didn't expect that someone with such status would be content in dwellings such as this. There was one large room that served as a sitting and dining area, and what appeared to be two doorways on either side of the hearth. Even the decor was modest. It consisted of old armor, pelts, but nothing more.

She did a complete turn as she took it all in. It smelled pleasant. A basket of herbs sat upon the mantel. She figured they were cause of the scent. Satisfied that this was the home of a man more concerned with necessity rather than luxury, she cocked her head.

"Why such a small place?"

The question perplexed him for he didn't see what relevance it had. He chose to answer anyway. "Well, I feel that the profit I make is better served by being returned to the people. Whether someone is under my employment--for I don't use slaves--or if someone comes to me."

Gabrielle walked toward him. "You must really care about the people of Sparta."

"Yes...I do. Sparta has always been my home."

She ran her fingers over the satchel. The note was inside, but, before she would hand it over, she needed to know more about this man. "Does your empathy for mankind stem further than Spartan walls?"

"Yes, it does." He paused, drawing a hand to his chin and cocking his head. "Miss, I'm sorry, but you have me at a loss. What is it you seek? Are you looking for money for your child? Because if that's the case, all you need do is ask." He wasn't altogether sure where this was going. He didn't even know the name of the woman that stood before him.

The bard shook her head. Those last few words assured her that she was in the presence of a kind-hearted man. Now, whether or not that compassion would extend to helping them escape Sparta, she wasn't sure. She had to try though.

She took another step. "I'm not with child, Nikolaus."

His brows came to a point. "I don't understand then. What are you here for?"

"My name is Gabrielle," the bard stated, leaning her staff against the nearby wall.

"What are you here for?"  

She stared at him thoughtfully for a moment. "I'm here on behalf of Xena."

Nikolaus took a step forward, lowering his chin and bobbing a finger. "I knew that name sounded familiar. You're a bard aren't you?"

"Yes, that would be me."

He walked to the hearth and propped an arm on the mantel. "Alright...so, what exactly does Xena want of me?"

"She heard that you were against the execution. Is this true?"

"Yes, yes it is. It's nothing more than a publicity ploy by Menelaus. Xena wants me to help her and Ares off of Spartan land I'm guessing."

Gabrielle nodded. "Yes. With your status...will you help us?"

She waited for an answer. It seemed, from the look on his face, as though he was genuinely interested in helping. Slowly, his lips began to part, but before a single word could be uttered, Gabrielle got an answer--an answer that came from an unexpected party.

"We'll help you. Just tell us what you need to be done."

The bard spun around on her heel and there, standing beside the hearth, was Taris. Her expression was firm. The tears shed just minutes before had since disappeared. Gabrielle's mouth dropped. She recognized this woman.  

Stuttering she tried to reason why she would help and secondly, what she doing in this home. "But, you're the Queen of Sparta...why..?"

Nikolaus went to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Taris, what are you doing??"

She in turn raised a hand to his shoulder, staring him directly in the eye. "It's alright, Niko." The queen turned to address Gabrielle's question. "Why? Because Menelaus is a drunkard who is not fit to rule. My husband seeks vengeance for Troy when it is he who is to blame for its aftermath. I won't stand silent anymore while he points the finger to anyone but himself."

The bard was taken aback. She hadn't even considered that the Queen of Sparta would offer to help. Gabrielle gazed into the dancing flames of the hearth and whispered, "I was at Troy when the war was finally brought to an end."

"Then you know how ruthless and petty my husband truly is. We'll help you, but what is it you want us to do?"

Reaching into the satchel, Gabrielle pulled forth the parchment. She extended her hand and Taris took it. Both she and Nikolaus examined the note.

"It says that Xena wants to meet with me by the bank of the Eurotas River," Nikolaus conveyed.

Taris looked to Gabrielle and nodded. "Tell your friend that we'll both be there."

"Both of us? But, you're-"

She cut him off and reiterated, "We'll both be there." He tried to object, but she determinedly continued, "If I'm to be tried for treason in a few months, why not stand against him now?"

Gabrielle's brows lowered. "Treason?"

"I want to help you because in doing so, perhaps I can help myself, Gabrielle. That is, if Xena would be willing. Either way, I feel that I can trust you.."

The bard cocked her head and stepped toward Taris. "I'm sure Xena wouldn't object to helping you if there's any way you can resolve the situation we're in now. What did you mean by treason??"

"I'm pregnant and the child I carry is not my husband's."

Now it all made sense. Realization grew evident on Gabrielle's face as she looked at the pair standing before her. Her lips dropped open. "The child is yours, Nikolaus."

"Yes, the child is mine and there is no reason for the king to think it is his. Therein is the problem. When he discovers in near months..."

Gabrielle adjusted the satchel's strap on her shoulder. Her hands gripped the leather and she nodded. "I see. I don't know what can be done, but I will tell Xena."

"And we'll be there to meet with her tomorrow at dawn. It's perfect timing really, Menelaus is in Pylos. He returns day after tomorrow," Taris stated.

"Ok, sounds good. I should go." Gabrielle reached for her staff and went to leave. With one hand on the knob of the door, she turned to face the couple. "Thank you so much...the both of you."

Taris wrapped an arm around Nikolaus' waist as they stood in front of the warm hearth. She shook her head and replied, "No, thank you Gabrielle."

The bard's head tilted. "What do you mean?"

The corners of Taris' mouth curled up. "Xena's helped one woman escape from Menelaus' clutches at Troy. Maybe she can do it again here in Sparta."

Gabrielle meekly smiled. She turned the knob of the door and quietly made her exit.

After closing the door behind her, she pulled her cloak tight as the night's air fell upon her skin. She began to turn, only to be stopped short as she felt herself bump into someone. Gabrielle shrank from the impact and bowed her head. The stench of alcohol was apparent.

She waved her hand, breathed out quietly, "I'm sorry," and continued on her way.

The dark figure chuckled and called after her, "How much?!"

She heard the words, which were obviously meant to be derogatory. Gabrielle just kept walking and muttered under her breath, "How much? Are the words concubine for sale etched on my cloak or somethin," as she disappeared into the dark.

Inside Nikolaus' residence, both he and Taris remained in front of the hearth. He ran a hand down her back as she continued to stare at the parchment held firm in his grasp.

"We're doing the right thing. I know we are. If we can help Xena...maybe...just maybe she'll help us as well."

Nikolaus nodded in response as he leaned down to capture a kiss.

It was then that the door flung open.

Taris, in the midst of opening her eyes, asked, "Gabrielle, did you forget something?" She peered toward the doorway and her fingers dug into Nikolaus in fear.

Standing there, smiling smugly, was Phazon.

Nikolaus quickly moved himself in front of the queen as he entered. The man's grey eyes twinkled with amusement and a chuckle passed over his lips. He swaggered up to the pair. Nikolaus' eyes burned with despise.

"How absolutely intriguing! I just left the local tavern and bumped into what I thought, emphasis on 'thought', was a servant. So, I thought I would drop by and ask how it was. Oh, but this is so much better. I always thought there was something going on between the two of you," he taunted.

"You pompous idiot!" Nikolaus rushed up to Phazon. Seething with anger, he brought a hand down upon the intruder's neck and slammed him against the wall.

"If you dare tell-"

"Nikolaus, don't," Taris yelled as she rushed to separate the pair.

"Why shouldn't I?!"

She shook her head as her eyes began to well. "Because you'll forfeit everything you've accomplished!"

Phazon gasped under the pressure, but managed to speak. "You should listen to her. Besides, I won't tell."

Confused by this, Nikolaus' grip slowly began to release. He took a step back. The fact that he was perplexed was obvious. "Just what do you mean??"

Smoothing down his robes, Phazon rolled his head from side to side in an attempt to loosen the muscles. "You know that I am a bargaining man. I'll be silent...but it will cost you."

Taris' eyes lowered. The fire in the hearth sent shadows to play about her face. "You want money?"

"No. You thought I was 'Gabrielle'. Well, if I'm not mistaken, that's the very name of Xena's little side-kick."

Nikolaus stood tall. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Sneering, Phazon's gaze volleyed between the two. "Oh please...spare me the lies. Let's face facts shall we? I caught you both in an embrace. You know very well that infidelity is treason and you both know the penalty. Now," he pointed to the parchment that was still gripped firmly in Nikolaus' hand, "you hand over that and both of you will keep your heads."

Swallowing down, Nikolaus looked to Taris. He couldn't stand the thought of losing her and now, that fear was doubled. She was carrying their child. The pace of his breathing picked-up again. "Why is that enough to gain your silence??"

"Because. If I can catch Ares and his warrior bitch, Xena, then that's all the better for my reputation. Now, are you going to hand it over or not? Because if you don't, I will just as easily be content to gain Menelaus' favor by turning you two in." Phazon's voice was laced with malicious intent.

Nikolaus stared helplessly at Taris.. He could see her mouth the word, 'no', but didn't comply. He knew he couldn't lose her. The tears that were making their way down her face convinced all the more. His looked to the wayside as he slowly extended his hand.

A victorious grin grew on Phazon's face. He quickly grabbed the note and peered down to read it. He ran a finger across his moustache and shook with mocking laughter. "The Eurotas River at dawn, eh?" He folded the parchment and tucked it away. "Thank you, ever so much. You just made my day."

Taris' head dropped in defeat as Nikolaus came to stand by her. Seeing Phazon start to leave, he spat, "Just what are you going to do!?"

He stopped halfway out the door and turned. That same smug grin was held firm on his face. Sarcastically, he replied, "Well, I must make preparations. I wouldn't want to disappoint the Warrior Princess."

***********************************************************

The flame of a lit torch contorted and waltzed to a silent melody. Shadow served as its dance partner. Light and dark cascaded over the length of the walls, to the floor, and across every item their reach would extend in their battle for supremacy. The oil saturated cloth tip of the torch emitted a soft cracking sound as the fire continued to lap at it. Save only for the flame's whisper, all was silent.

Beyond the fire's illuminating touch, Xena sat in the dark recesses. Completely motionless, her back rested against the cool earthen wall while her legs remained curled upon the cot on which she sat. Blue eyes pierced through from under her lashes, fixated on the burning torch. It was as if it was aware, a conscious entity, and she found she could not pull her stare away.

Through the undulating waves of searing heat, she saw more. The flickering fire shed light on the dusty air. It was reminiscent of the promenading ashes of burning cities--cities that a once ruthless warrioress had set ablaze. She saw herself, that Xena of long ago, riding mercilessly on a destructive warpath through Greece.

It spiraled on. The red heat gave way to waves of white--like the crackling sparks of clashing swords. She remembered it all--the cheers of legions, the screams of innocents.   All of these things, these dissonant sounds and dizzying images, flooded her mind.

Xena closed her eyes, willing them away. Her attempt did  nothing but intensify the sensations. Things, long since past, were now at the forefront of her mind. She remembered further back, back to when she stood on foreign soil. The warrioress was not so heroic then. On the contrary, she was a monster, a destroyer. She did things then that she could not begin to justify... because they had no justification at all.

One of those atrocities stood out amongst them all as the worst. She could still feel heat against her skin, see the dark clouds of billowing smoke, hear the cacophony of cries, smell the scent of burning flesh-

No, she silently gasped, you can't change the past!

Xena's eyes flickered open. They were wet, the lashes in disarray, yet no tears actually fell. They just sat and welled, but did not dare pass the brims.

She didn't know how long she'd been transfixed by haunting memories of her warlord past. Turning her head from the torch, her eyes fell to the chakram at her side. Just as she, it was forever changed from its original state. But, unlike her, it was no longer just a half, it was whole. It was balanced.

Xena idly ran a finger along the smooth surface. It was cool to the touch, but she remembered when the weapon, in its most simplistic form, felt as though it would scorch her hand with each malicious release. The recollections crashed down again. Oh, she remembered that night so many seasons ago when she first moved to touch it. A gift bestowed to this marching conqueror from none other than war itself.

Ares.

So different it was now. Again, it was finally balanced. Where Ares had afforded one half, she herself had found the other. It was beautiful, yet deadly, just as the being who wielded it.

It's strength had wrought many things in the past, but now it was used in her fight for the greater good.

Almost.

The painful memories of the night the Olympian pantheon had fallen flooded her mind. It was night that Xena had nearly killed her dearest friend. She could still hear the grotesque sound that the chakram made when it struck. She could still feel the burning heat that dripped from it as it returned to hand.

Xena never thought she could ever do such a thing to someone who had been there for her all along, but so it happened. She had succumbed to a blinding rage. How Gabrielle had found it in her heart to forgive her, Xena didn't know. The bard had such an innocence, something that the warrioress had long since seen fizzle out. They both had forged a friendship that would forever be, but the path they walked on forked off long ago.

And that night, Xena had nearly stopped the bard from setting foot in front of foot ever again.

She knew that this world held many surprises, that help often came from the most unlikely places. Never did Xena think, however, that her greatest adversary would erase the most vengeful thing she'd ever done since being on the road to redemption and in the process, save her life and her friendship.

Now, all these memories collided into one masterful tapestry of angst, rage, regret and redemption... the nights of mishap and adventure, brutality and peace.

She looked to Ares and remembered this evening, awash in blue moonlight. This was a night of solace and revelation.

Her eyes raked over his sleeping form on the cot nearby. He made not a sound, but the rise and fall of his chest traversed the wall in shadowed ascent. She found the sight comforting in a way. It was natural.

Xena shifted slightly. The cot creaked in unison. As ironic as it was, she missed Ares' cocky bravado and sinister grin. Though, at the same time, she found that the man under it all truly had the capacity to feel. It was a welcomed discovery.

Who would have suspected, that after years of trying to reclaim her sword...war would succumb to the warrior?

Slowly rising from the cot, Xena's eyes fell to look at his face. She quietly made her way toward him and crouched down beside him. She sat there a long time, watching shadows lap at his face and listening to the hushed whisper of his breath.

Her head tilted to the side. Her hair spilled over her armored shoulders and she extended a hand. With nothing more than the pressure of a feather, the backs of her fingers graced the side of his face. They came to a halt upon finding a single grey hair at his temple.

She pulled her hand away and again, being as quiet as possible, stood. She peered down at him a moment longer, making sure she hadn't disturbed him, before turning toward the table. There, she picked up her water skin and took a sip. Emotions were running rampant inside.

I hold so much inside for fear of being seen as weak..

Those words he'd spoken earlier rang true for her as well.

Xena started to walk back toward her own cot, when she heard the sound of creaking hinges coming from the corridor. Just to be sure, she grabbed her sword from the scabbard propped against the wall, and stood waiting at the entrance to the room.

The sound of one pair of footsteps, accompanied by the sound of thudding, made for enough reassurance that she lowered her weapon. Xena knew it was Gabrielle, staff in hand. She put her sword back down and rounded the corner to greet her friend.

Xena smiled and whispered, "Welcome back. How did it go?"

Gabrielle leaned her staff against the wall. Taking a cue from Xena, she too whispered. "Well, let me first say that the Spartan guards are less than respectful, but I made it in."

"Actually, hold that thought. I should wake Ares up. It is his neck on the line." She stepped back into the room and leaned over the ex-Olympian. Xena grabbed him about the arm and gently shook. "Hey, wake up."

Ares woke and slowly . He blinked a few times before sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "What's the word," he questioningly mumbled.

"She just got back."

The cot creaked as Ares moved his feet to the ground. He looked at Xena and cocked a brow. "What were you doing while you waited?"

"Uh, I just sat around," she replied, a bit shaken.

"That must have been boring."

Xena looked away, running her hand up the length of her arm to scratch at an itch that didn't exist. "Yeah.." She gazed out toward the hall. "Ok, Gabrielle, get in here and tell us what happened."

Stepping into the room, the bard untied the cloak from about her neck and discarded it on top of the table. She also slid the satchel from her shoulder, but maintained her own water skin and took a sip from it.

"Nikolaus will be there tomorrow at dawn."

Ares' eyes widened. "He's willing to help??"

"Yup, but that's not all."

"What do you mean," Xena asked.

"Well, seems as though the Queen of Sparta herself wants to help as well.. She'll be there in the morning with Nikolaus."

Raising a hand, Xena shifted. "Whoa...The queen?" She looked over toward Ares and noted that he looked just as shocked. "Why would she want to help?"

Gabrielle took a seat on top of the table. "She wants our help in return, Xena. She doesn't think Menelaus is fit to rule-"

"Good. At least she realizes that."

"But there's more.. Seems as though she is pregnant with," Gabrielle looked from face to face before concluding, "Nikolaus' child."

Xena shook her head as it now all made perfect sense. "Well isn't that something....I don't know how I could possibly help her, but I'm willing to listen if she has any ideas."

"Wouldn't be the first time you saved a woman from that old bastard, Xena" Ares jested as he flashed his dimples.

The warrioress was completely taken aback.  Xena lowered a brow and stared at him, a smile playing on her face. "Did you just laugh?"

He, too, brought his brows to a point and began to bob his head. "Yeah..yeah I guess I did... I suppose good news will do that."

"Yes, it works wonders."  The both exchanged a subtle nod of the head before she turned her attention back to Gabrielle. There was another important question to be asked.  "Speaking of Menelaus...did you find out what he's up to?"

"Well, Menelaus is out of the area until the day after tomorrow. He's in Pylos bartering."

Xena's eyes twinkled upon hearing the news. "Excellent." She looked from face to face and grinned. "Alright, let's get some rest. Looks like tomorrow will be a rather big day."

****************************

The night had been less than comforting. Together, she and Nikolaus had debated on just what to do in respect to the present conflict. It resulted in her agreement to keep a low profile, while truthfully, she had no intention of doing so. Toward the hours of twilight, Taris had returned to her room within the palace.

No, the time had come that she would take to hand the power of status she possessed. What little there was, anyway. If only the citizens knew what kind of man their leader truly was... Menelaus had many a plan in store for these common people, unbeknownst to them.

The old man's plan to execute Ares was to be only the beginning. With such an endeavor to boast about, Menelaus' reputation as a conqueror would be reestablished. Many nights he had moaned about the loss of his imposing stature and how he desperately longed to do something that was thought impossible so his name would be etched into the scrolls of history.

The people would utter his name in awe-- he would be known as the man who dispatched war itself. But what they didn't know, was that Menelaus had plans to be its successor, enforcing his own idealistic and greedy resolve. The peaceful ways which the Spartans had become so accustomed to would be nothing more than inklings of a weak past--a past that their leader burned to erase.

Where a pitch fork was gripped in hand, a sword would replace it. Where children gleefully played in innocent games of chase, would stand a strict edict enforcing their military scholastics. The ways of philosophy and art would give out to the burdens of battle strategics and weapons forging.

Sparta would become a land built on the foundation of megalomanic conquest.

She could no longer standby and be silent while those undeserving of Menelaus' wrath fell. She would no longer serve as a showpiece that was just as easily discarded as it was presented. What she would do would not only be for her own retribution, but for the love of her dear Nikolaus and the future of their unborn child.

Now, within her room, she quickly rummaged through her chests. Digging through layer after layer of chitons, gowns and other apparel, she inwardly cussed, unable to find what she needed. She stood up and raised a brow as new plan of action came to mind.

Her finger nervously tapped about the corner of her lips, till finally she hurriedly made her way to the door and out into the dark hall.

****************************

"Ugh, I know it has to be here somewhere," Cassia spat under her breath in frustration.

A candle in hand, she traversed the blackened depths of the hall outside of the servants' quarters. Back and forth she walked, the tiny flame offering little help. The sounds of her treading bare feet produced a hushed echo as she continued her search.

The length of her blue nightgown skimmed across the cool stone floor. She raised a hand to her head and pushed back her black hair--it had fallen across her shoulders due to being hunched over and was encumbering the search. A look of sheer frustration masked her delicate features for she was at a loss.

Earlier that day, she'd dropped the contents of her satchel. She had thought that she had successfully repacked the sack, but one item was missing. It was an item that she couldn't stand to lose--the scroll from which she'd drawn such strength.

Cassia figured it still had to be somewhere in the length of the corridor. A diligent search had not yet produced any findings. By this time, she was nearing tears---it was the only thing she had left that was given to her by her father.

She stood straight up and let a desolate sigh pass her lips. Turning back toward the servants' quarters, she took sullen steps. Her side skimmed the wall, a hand ran along the rough stone and it was then, that under foot, she felt the undeniable feel of velvet.

Her mouth opened and a look of relief came across her face as she stepped back and peered down. Extending the candle toward the ground, she smiled deep. There, finally, was what she was looking for. She picked the pouch up and brought it to her chest. From her lips came a sigh echoing her facial expression.

"Thank goodness."

She took another small step backwards and nearly jumped out of her skin as she felt a warm body behind her. Cassia spun around. She was worried, thinking she had been caught meandering about the palace without permission. The candle gripped firmly in her hand exposed the person before her. She had briefly seen this woman earlier in the day when doing her first day of chores.

The young girl's head immediately bowed as she mumbled some apologies. "Queen Taris, I am so sorry."

"It's alright. You're the new girl, correct," she asked in a hushed whisper.

"Yes, I am. I only came to find-"

Taris raised a silencing hand. "No explanation is needed." The queen's brows lowered in thought. Could she trust this girl? All answers pointed to yes. She was new and not wise to protocol. She'd most assuredly follow orders no matter what they would be. Taris placed a hand on her shoulder and leaned closer. "I need you to help me."

Confused by the request, Cassia merely titled her head. "Well of course, my queen. What is it that you need me to do?"

"Go into the servants' quarters. Get dressed and bring me some clothes as well, but hurry and make no mention of this to anyone."

This was truly an odd request, but Cassia thought it better not to question. "Yes, right away. Will you be here?"

Taris looked behind her warily before answering. "Yes. Now please, hurry."

"Of course." She hopped backwards and made a dash for the servants' quarters. Her form was enveloped in the dark recesses. The dim candle served as the only method of tracking her steps.

The queen leaned against the wall and breathed out in anxiety. Her hands ran down to her belly and caressed. "What I do, I do not only for your father and yourself, but for the good of Sparta." Taris ran her hands back up and released her long brown locks from their clasp. The tresses spilled downward as she mussed them.

Again, a sharp breath caught in her throat. Her eyes closed as she brought her fingers to her temples and rubbed them in a circular motion. It was an attempt to ease the fear that she could feel being to brew inside her--a fear that she simply could not allow to come to fruition.

She looked around nervously, but saw nothing but black. Not a noise could be heard. Morning would come soon, however. She'd left Nikolaus mere hours ago. As much as he wanted justice brought to Sparta, he wasn't prepared to lose Taris. She, on the other hand, was no longer gripped by fear--though she felt it. She was being driven by necessity.

Her fingers tapped against the wall and finally, after a few more minutes had past, she heard the faint sound of footfall. Her eyes peered down the length of the hall and she saw the small dancing glow of a burning candle. The corners of her mouth shakily turned up as Cassia came to stand beside her.

"I didn't know which clothes to bring and I, sadly, can't offer you anything more than these humble things. Did I do right?" Cassia handed her the items and looked expectantly for an answer.

"Yes, you came through and did exactly what I needed, child."

Much to Cassia's surprise, Taris began to strip right there in the hallway. Her gown was traded for a common brown cotton dress, which she threw on. Then, she reached for a cloak of the same color. The fabric itched at her skin, but this was no time to worry about finery.

"I'm sorry, but what is this about?" Cassia was never one to mince words.

The queen looked up as she adjusted the binding ties to the cloak and brought up the hood. "Can you ride?"

"Yes..but-" Her fingers ran idly over the satchel on her shoulder.

Taris grabbed her by the hand. "Good. Now, listen and listen carefully. I need to be somewhere before the sun rises. You're going to help me get there."

Cassia glanced down at their clasped hands and cocked her head. "Well of course I'll do my duty, but what is it exactly you want me to do, your majesty?"

Taris began to lead the servant down the hall. She quietly explained what would be expected. "For this journey, I am no longer your 'majesty'. Just pick a name and call me that-"

Her mind flipped back to her old roommate from Pylos. "Is Andro alright?"

The queen's eyes darted back and forth as they neared the servants' doorway that led in and out of the palace. "Yes, that's fine. But treat me like you would treat any of your own peers. That's the only way we'll make it out of here."

"Whatever you say, your maj- er, Andro."

"Good."

Both women exited into the cool night's air. It gripped them both, but they stayed their course, heading to the stable where the work horses were kept. Taris lifted a hand and pushed the greyed wood door open. She cringed a bit as it creaked before the sound finally ebbed. The smell of hay filled their noses and now, the quiet nickers of the animals, mixed with the sound of straw under foot, made the only noises.

Taris pointed to a small, yet sturdy, grey gelding. He stood in his stall, happily chewing on his night's ration of hay. A saddle and bridle sat in the aisle. Cassia knew by the direction that she was expected to saddle the animal.

She did so expertly and as quick as possible.

Just as she was about to lead the animal from the stall, the other horses began to neigh. Taris again cringed. She looked wildly around, but saw nothing. All seemed safe until, just moments later, she heard the door creak.

The queen spun around and sat upon a bale of hay and pulled the hood tighter against her head as she lowered it. Cassia gulped.

"Just remember what I told you girl. Make something up if you need to," Taris whispered.

A guard stepped out of the dark. His sword was drawn and a look of curiosity was written on his face. "What are you two doing here??"

She was almost tempted to swallow back, but quick thinking impeded what would have been a clue of her insecurity. "The queen asked that myself and.. Andro here.. go report to work in the fields, sir."

He looked back and forth from the two women and sucked on his lip. "This time of night?"

Cassia nodded. "Yes. We're both new here, so of course we get the grunt work. The queen thought it best we go as early as possible. She couldn't rest well.. knowing that the temperature had suddenly dropped. Queen Taris was worried about what it would do to the produce. Sparta has already suffered a drought and lost most of its wheat supply so, she didn't want to take any chances with the vegetables and fruits."

The guard's brows lowered as he digested the information. Cassia could see that he was debating whether or not this was an acceptable answer.

"Does your friend here not speak?"

"I just woke her up. She's extremely tired and not feeling well."

Taris offered a mock cough.

Again the guard's expression changed to one of contemplation. Slowly, he began to lower his sword and finally, placed it back in his scabbard and nodded. He started to walk away and for a moment, Cassia breathed a sigh of relief in unison with the queen's own. It was a moment that was shortly cut off, however, as the guard hurriedly walked back.

"Juuuuust a minute," he ordered.

"Y-yes?" Cassia was almost sure they were caught.

One of his hands firmly gripped the hilt of his sword. The man's eyes raked over both women and with a drawn out motion, he rolled his tongue about in his mouth. "Don't forget to put that out."

Her brows lowered. She was confused. "What?"

Exasperated, he pointed toward the top of the wooden stall gate and bobbed his finger. "That! The candle. What do you want to do? Burn the whole royal stable down??"

Cassia drew in a deep breath. " Oh..the candle. Of course. I'm sorry."

The guard rolled his eyes. "Yeah...just do as I told ya."

She bowed her head. "Yes."

Again, he rolled his eyes and departed into the dark. This time, he did not come back.

Taris quickly stood -- now that the coast was indeed clear. She grasped the base of the candle to keep it from moving as she opened the stall gate. Cassia led the gelding out by the reins and looked back toward her companion. The queen extended her hand, signaling the girl to lead the horse out of the barn, which she obeyed, but not before diffusing the candle's flame with nothing more than a shaky breath.

Outside, that guard was nowhere to be seen. He had probably been making various rounds of the courtyard area when he heard the horses begin to neigh.

The twilight hours were definitely in tow for the black of night was gradually dispersing while velvet shades of blue took over.

"Alright, hold him steady while I mount." The queen looked around while running a hand down the animal's neck. Satisfied they were alone, she carefully lifted a foot to the stirrup and pulled herself up. The horse gently nickered. "Ok, now you."

Cassia threw the reins over the animal's head, drew up the slack, and mounted as well. She took her seat in front of Taris and gently urged the horse forward.

Looking back as they neared Sparta's gates, she whispered, "Where are we going?"

"The Eurotas River."

"Why," Cassia further questioned. She figured that if she was doing something that required such cloak and dagger work, she was entitled to know what she was getting herself into.

Taris gazed up at the moon and gave an answer. "To stop a travesty."

****************************

In the still hours just before dawn, Phazon adjusted his armored chest plate. Satisfied that the item was held fast in place, he checked the checked to make sure his saddle was secure. He noted that it was a bit loose. As he tightened the girth, the large dark horse tried to nip. This action was repaid with a swat to the nose. The animal jerked its head up and pawed the ground. Phazon ignored the indignation, grabbed the reins, raised a foot to the stirrup and threw a leg over the saddle.

All seemed right. He had no knowledge of any possible problems. He hadn't noticed a missing horse from the royal stable. No, Phazon was quite assured that the morning would be a complete success. Everything seemed in place.

The morning was still dark, but the lit torches that lined Sparta's walls were reflected off of the armored troop before him. The men stood motionless and at attention. Green crests, which stemmed from the top of their helmets, swayed with the morning breeze while frosty breath fell from their mouths. They looked incredibly imposing and ready to carry out whatever was asked.

 Phazon prompted his horse to walk down the line, raising a clenched fist, and addressed the soldiers. "Today's the day, men! The day we recapture Ares to bring him to justice!!"

"What of Xena," a man questioned, keeping his eyes forward in military stance.

Phazon looked the line over and answered. "Our main concern is Ares and he alone. All other considerations are secondary! I'm not about to lose a single soldier unnecessarily." He paused and ran a hand across his beard as he justified that comment to himself.

Menelaus would be none too pleased to learn that after accomplishing our goal, our vanity got in the way of sensibility.

Phazon's beady eyes refocused on the troop before him. "You are the elite of Sparta...so, let's show Ares what that truly means!"

The men took their swords from their scabbards and raised them skyward. In an almost melodic way, they cheered in unison.

****************************

Dawn was drawing ever closer. Dark blue hues coalesced with those of lavender and pink. Stars, which had so prominently graced the night sky, began their descent with the silver glow of the moon. Together, they gave way to the impending ascent of the sun.

Crickets, not yet tired from their night's refrain, continued to orchestrate their songs. Birds of prey returned to their nests, the night's hunt having been efficacious. Now, smaller feather-clad animals made their way to the sky, all the while chirping in honor of the dawn.

Dew sat upon tender shards of grass. Drops loomed on bended tips, dampening leather boots which dared to tread. The chill embraced one and all like a long lost love. Goosebumps rose on exposed flesh.

Regardless, it was a morning that gave way to serenity.

The Eurotas River flowed strongly, licking the banks. The water was crystal clear even in the darkening shroud of twilight. It raced over the rocks below, glimmering with the soft pastel hues that began to rise in procession with the sun.

Two horses happily grazed on lush foliage. Their reins were secured to low extending branches of nearby trees. Both swished their tails about as flies annoyingly landed on them. The action was sporadically accompanied by a kick of a rear leg as they tried to keep the pesky insects at bay.

Ares gazed upon the sight. A look of relief mixed with weariness crossed his masculine face. Today would be the day that, perhaps, he'd regain his freedom. His hand idly sat upon the hilt of a sheathed sword--a weapon he'd taken from the many stashed away in the shelter not far from where he now stood.

Xena also gazed on, but not at the river. Her eyes were locked on the man beside her. She took in the sight of a mortal man who no longer seemed so arrogant and ruthless-- man who, now, seemed to exude sincere emotion in every gesture and expression.

Each breath he made met the chill, forming a rising cloud of condensed air. Yet, he didn't seemed bothered by it. She, however, pursed her lips and ran her hands over her arms, trying to shun away the cold.

The bard was absent of the scene. She had gone, by Xena's request, to scout just far enough ahead to alert them when company was about to arrive.

Clutching her hands in loosened fists, Xena brought them to her lips and breathed hot air into them. It wasn't often that the cold got to her. Rubbing her hands against one another, she bit her lip before she spoke.

"Aren't you cold?"

Ares faced her and slowly shook his head. "Actually, no."

"If it was any colder, no armor in the world would be able to conceal-" Xena stopped short of her joke as she looked down at her chest. "Anyway, it should heat up soon. The sun will be up in a short time."

He smiled deeply. He always could appreciate Xena's sense of humor. The fact that she stopped short of her joke made him inwardly laugh. He pressed his lips together and gazed up at the sky.

"You know..I never really appreciated the dawning of a new day."

She took a step next to him, all the while keeping her arms crossed to keep any heat from being released. "I never really thought about it either. But, somewhere along the line that changed for me." He looked at her, silently urging her to go on. She did. "It was symbolic in a way...proof that all things have the capacity to start anew I guess."

Another trail of icy breath fell from his lips. "All things? Even me?"

She looked him in the eye and nodded. "Even you."

He took a few steps backward and leaned against a tree that stood at the bank of the river. The leaves danced on the retreating wind and more defined shadows began to filter through them as the sun started to peak behind the imposing Mount Parnon in the distance.

He crossed his arms and leaned his head back against the trunk. The smell of damp wood filled his nose as he closed his eyes and breathed it in. "Thank you, Xena."

"For what exactly?"

"For standing by me through this ordeal. You know you didn't need to and there was a time not that long ago, that I think you'd just assume leave me to hang. I can't exactly blame you though."

Xena pursed her lips and lowered her head, taking hesitant steps toward him. "Actually, I don't think I could." She too, leaned against the tree.

He shifted a bit and grimaced slightly. The bracing oil that he had applied earlier that morning only eased the pain so much. The ex-Olympian turned his head to regard her. Xena's black hair swept across her face as she gazed up at the sky. She looked so serene, so at peace. Ares wondered what that felt like. 

He licked his lips and took a deep breath.

"Do you think you'll ever find it in your heart to forgive me," he whispered.

Her head slowly turned. Staring at him, she took in the sincere expression on his face. After all the years of seeing this being as an adversary...after all the years of opposing what he stood for, the things he'd done, and the pain he'd caused...he was now asking to be absolved of them.

She was silent.

She was reminded.

Recollections of her own malicious past swam over her. She too, was not exempt of heartbreak. She had been the Destroyer of Nations, a warlord. Even on her path to redemption, she'd stumbled horribly along the way. Yet, people she'd horrendously crossed had found it within them to forgive her ruthless transgressions. Her family, friends, even strangers that had lost family to her sword found something redeemable about her.

Gabrielle still stood by her side, bound in friendship. Even though she had almost fallen prey to the warrioress' rage, the bard refused to relinquish trust to hate.

Now, Xena was being asked to do the same. Could she? Could she grant Ares the same amnesty that she had been afforded? She didn't know what to say. After all the years of being enemies, she never considered that he would ask this of her.

There was a time long ago when she would have done just about anything for him--a time which had been pushed back to the deepest recesses of her mind.

Xena closed her eyes and moved to speak, but the words were diffused before they even reached fruition.

The sound of quick foot fall upon scattered twigs and leaves broke the silence.

"Xena!!"

She turned around to see Gabrielle making her way through overgrown brush.

"They here," she asked as her friend drew closer.

"Yea, it's still fairly dark, but I saw a horse with two riders. I didn't see any weapons."

Xena briefly glanced at Ares whose face still held an inquisitive expression. The look on her own face was almost apologetic. She tore her eyes away and moved from her spot on the tree.

Ares watched as she walked toward the bank of the Eurotas. He wondered if she would ever answer the question, if there would always be something or someone to interrupt.   That's what always seemed to happen and now, like so many times before, the moment had passed.

The Warrior Princess was all business now.

Adjusting the gauntlets on her arms, she bobbed her head. "Alright. Looks like this will all be over soon. How far off were they?"

"Uh, I would say that they'll be here any second," Gabrielle replied, leaning on her staff and glaring at the sais strapped on her boots. "Don't ever say I don't carry enough weapons," she mumbled under her breath.

Xena stretched and looked at Ares. "It's almost over."

He meekly nodded. Question is, where does one go from here?

It was then that the horses lifted their heads. Their mouths stuffed with grass, they stopped chewing and neighed in unison. The grey gelding that carried both Taris and Cassia expressed its greetings as well as they entered the area.

The latter brought their mount to a halt. Taris hadn't told her who they were meeting up with, but upon seeing the trio, her hazel eyes opened wide. Two of them were obviously warriors, but the third...the third leaned on her staff and offered a smile. Cassia had finally come into contact with the person she had thought of as a legendary hero in her own right. She sat still as she digested this.

Taris, on the other hand, immediately slid from the horse's back. She pulled up the length of the brown cotton dress she wore and diligently made her way toward Xena.

The warrioress extended her arm and a welcome as well. "Queen Taris, I presume." She looked up at the girl who sat atop the grey and lowered a brow. "Where's Nikolaus?"

The queen's eyes looked warily from side to side. She took a shaky breath and tightened her grasp Xena's hand. "You need to get out of here."

Ares moved from the tree and quickly made his way to the women. He cast a curious glance at Cassia. She looked familiar, like he knew here from somewhere, but there were more pressing matters to attend to.

"What's going on??"  

"Phazon knows...you must get out of here now," Taris desperately pleaded.

Gabrielle raised a hand in question. "Did he see you??"

She wildly shook her head. "No, I don't think so. We took an alternate route here, but you must believe me. He's on his way!"

Before anyone could even take a breath, the horses began to neigh excitedly again. Their calls were echoed back in great number. A large flock of birds took to dizzying flight from the trees beyond. All eyes looked toward the distant hillside and there, coming out of the dark, as if out of nowhere, was nearly thirty armored Spartans on horseback heading their way. The charging animals snorted. Their nostrils were wide, taking in the wind they raced against. Manes and tails sailed like silk banners. Ruts of dirt and grass took flight as they were kicked high off the horses' hooves.

Taris ran back toward the grey and with Cassia's assistance climbed aboard.

Xena's eyes never left the sight of the impending men. They were coming at a tremendous speed and were in a strategic semi-circle convoy.

She gripped Ares about the arm and urged him to run with her. "On the horses now!!!!"

Gabrielle dropped her staff and ran to untie her bay gelding. With a quick flip of the reins, she hastily hopped on. "Which way Xena!?!?!?"

Xena and Ares hurriedly mounted as well. The warrioress held the reins tightly while her eyes darted back and forth. The way the Spartans were coming, they were surrounded. The only way out was to cross the broad Eurotas. She wrangled the horse around. The mare lifted her head, nervously pulling at the reins and side stepping.

"Across the river!!!" She desperately pointed.

Cassia kicked her mount into a gallop. The queen held onto her for support. Water splashed about the grey's forelegs as he leapt into the ice cold water. Both women teetered momentarily before the animal regained his footing and forced his way through the watery depths.

"Hold on," Xena cried over her shoulder at Ares.

He did so, wrapping his arms tightly about her leather clad waist. Any concept of cold that she had before was nothing but a mere memory as the nervous energy took hold. Her mare ran up along side Gabrielle's mount as both madly sprinted to the bank of the Eurotas.

The mare launched herself forward in a tremendous, yet graceful, leap. The disturbed water splashed up furiously in retribution. It cascaded back down over both Xena and Ares, but the cold still did not register.

Just a stride behind was the last of the group.

In the uncertainty of the moment, Gabrielle didn't take into account that the depth perception of horses is slim to none. She urged her mount in an off-balanced dash for the river. Coming up on the bank's edge, the animal gazed downward, not grasping the relativity of depth and thus, wildly jumped in with flailing legs. The gelding's hooves slipped on the slick rocks beneath the water, sending him to his knees.

Gabrielle was thrown backward and her head slammed on the bank's edge.

No one had witnessed the fall.

Taris and Cassia made it to the other side of the Eurotas. Their mount pawed the air in adrenaline induced excitement. It was then, that the gelding got up off his knees and raced out of the water riderless, passing by Xena's mare.

The warrioress jerked her head backward and brought her to an abrupt halt. There was the bard, unconscious, her head just out of the water's reach on the bank. Xena felt of a wave of panic run through her and screamed, “Gabrielle!!!!!!!!!"

With a forceful turn of the rein, her horse gracefully reared and spun around. Ares' grip tightened as the animal lunged forward again. Together, they raced back to the water's edge and just before reaching it, Xena slid off. Ares dismounted as well, taking hold of the mare's reins.

Xena threw herself to her knees. The chilling water swam around her legs as she pulled at Gabrielle's arms. Her eyes were closed. She was out cold. This was a bad situation that had just gotten undeniably worse.

Phazon and his men would be at the river's side soon. There was little time to think.

She gulped back. She didn't know how bad the bard's injuries truly were and she could feel the panic start to hold her. It wasn't often that she froze in situations like these, but here she was, succumbing.

Ares lunged forward and clutched Xena by the shoulder as he knelt in the water beside her. "C'mon! I'll help you!"

She looked at him with widened eyes, her mouth ajar, and finally got a grip on the situation. She grabbed an arm, as did Ares and together, they pulled the bard from the water and managed to get her on the horse. The mare side-stepped as she felt the pressure fall horizontally across her back, but quickly subdued her antics as she became accustomed to it.

The water rushed and swirled around the legs of both warriors. As she put her foot in the stirrup, Ares placed a steadying hand on Xena's back. They had to abscond immediately. The noises emanating from the Spartans were crystal clear--their clanging armor, their shouting and yelling. Each time the horses' hooves struck the ground, a thunderous sound slipped from between. The troop's arrival was imminent.

Ares watched them draw closer and swallowed back. He knew what he had to do.

"Go, Xena!"

She pulled her foot from the stirrup and stepped back into the flowing water. Bewildered, she looked at him. "What?!!"

Ares' nostrils flared as he again looked at the imposing troop closing in. "You heard me! Go! There's no way this horse is going to carry three and even if she could the Spartans would just hunt us down! I'll hold them back."

She knew exactly what holding them back meant. It meant that he intended to give himself up. She roughly grabbed him by the shirt and shook her head violently. The wet black locks stuck to her face as she tried to pull him along. "Nooo! C'mon we can make it!"

He knew there was no other way out of the situation. The guards were drawing ever closer. Even if he followed by foot, the Spartans would just track them down. It would be a slaughter. There was nowhere else to go.

If he gave himself up... Xena would have a chance.

Ares brought his hands about her wrists and looked her directly in the eye. He could see the desperation there. "You're not being practical! I'm not dragging you down with me! Now go before it's too late!!!!"

She shook her head incredulously as she mouthed the word, 'no'. She stared up at him, and though   he didn't say a word, the look on his face was enough to make her feel like she'd lost her capacity to breath. Those eyes told so much. She didn't want to accept that they were silently begging for her to leave.

Xena tugged again, infuriated that he wouldn't listen to her...

...that he would let himself be captured again...

...that he was being so selfless..

...that he was right and there was nothing she could do...

 Again, she pulled, this time out of frustration, but he merely backed up.

"Go!"

The warrioress looked helplessly from his serious face, to the oncoming men.

She breathed out at a loss. "Ares.."  

Xena swallowed back the lump in her throat and threw her hands around his head, pulling his face down to meet hers. She could feel the sweet heat fall from his parted mouth and as a shuddering sigh ran through her chest, she pushed her lips to his in a sincere and emotionally charged kiss. Ares' fingers threaded through her wet hair and closed his eyes.

They willed the rest of the world away and kissed as though it was the first time they had ever done so. In a way, it was. There was no agenda. There was no ulterior motive. There was only this moment and they took it--made it their own. They greedily clung to it, not daring to open their eyes or loosen their grips for fear of it slipping away.

He could feel her tremble and so, he pressed her tightly against him, trying to deter the motion. Instead, Ares found himself overwhelmed by it.  It was all so bittersweet...so unbearably bittersweet. 

Xena shuddered again and tore her lips away, only to bring them to his ear as she shakily whispered, "I do forgive you."

She pulled back to stare deep into those dark eyes and felt something trail down her face. For a moment, she wondered if it was a drop of the Eurotas, but as it fell to her mouth Xena could taste the salt it was imbued with. 

Ares stood there, wondering if his ears had betrayed him. The truth was, he had heard correctly. He could feel his heart swell and the corners of his lips flickered in silent thanks. What she had just done meant more to him than he could put into words. She'd granted him her forgiveness, finally, after all these years. He took a breath, trying to suppress the unfamiliar feeling in his chest, and bowed his head.

Maybe all things really did have the capacity to start anew...

Upon exhaling, he looked back up and the glorious sensation he felt was stifled.

The world wouldn't stop for him--not anymore.  Phazon was mere yards away from the river. The necessity for speed resurfaced.

Ares pulled Xena's hands away and, again, urged her to flee. "Xena, go...please...go!"

She reluctantly looked toward the bank. The Spartans were almost there. Again, he was right, she had to go. Grabbing the slack of the reins, she threw herself up on her mare behind the unconscious bard.

Xena looked at Ares. He stood there in the water, sopping wet, returning her stare. There was still so much to talk about. Time had slipped for both of them and now, there was only so much left. Yes, it always came down to time, didn't it?

The horse was getting restless as the others approached. They had to go. Xena set her jaw.   She was determined to steal one more moment--just one more.

"I'll come for you- I swear it!"

At that, the mare was urged into a sprint and as she raced through the Eurotas, it splashed under the force in a dazzling array. They disappeared just moments later behind the forest line of the opposite side of the river.

Ares remained standing in the depths. She was gone and the cold, which he hadn't noticed before, finally began to sink in. The chilled water seeped into his boots and gripped at his toes. The cold morning wind brushed against his skin. His breath collided with the crisp air, flowing out in smoke-like wisps from his lips.

He pulled his sword from its scabbard and turned to face the oncoming troop. He knew he was dreadfully out numbered, but drawing the weapon still felt necessary. Ares' mouth twitched as he waited, but sans that, he was completely immobile.

Just a few feet from the bank, Phazon pulled back on the reins, bringing his horse to a sliding halt. The armored soldiers did the same and now they lined the bank. All eyes fell on Ares, who still stood fast in the cold waters of the river.

Phazon grinned with triumph and urged his mount slowly into the water. The animal's hot breath danced on the cold air as it drew oxygen deep into its tightened lungs. It almost looked like the horse would breathe fire at any moment. Steam seemed to trail off of the animal, and it chomped impatiently on the bit as Phazon brought it to a halt beside Ares.

"Well, I don't think you'll be needing that," he chuckled, pointing to the sword.

"That may be--but, I'm not going to just go with you willingly." The muscle of Ares' jaw flickered. He had a plan to keep the Spartans occupied while Xena gained more distance. He didn't want her followed.

"Oh how completely noble...and ludicrous. You are sorely outnumbered."

"That may be, but isn't it better to go down in battle, than to willingly be taken to slaughter?"

Looking to the bank, Phazon rolled his eyes and waved a hand. "One of you go get him, will you?"

As requested, a soldier dismounted from his horse.  He pulled his sword from its scabbard as he walked into the Eurotas. Ares' muscles tensed, but he stood still, waiting for the opportunity to strike. The water splashed with each footstep and as he stepped close, Ares swung at him.

"Put the sword down," the man warned, carefully circling the ex-Olympian.

Ares smiled and simply answered, "No."

"Have it your way!"

The guard lunged at him in a frontal attack. Their swords crashed down upon one another in a shatter of sparking steel. The sound resonated and caused Phazon's horse squeal and   back up as the two combatants went toe to toe.

Clenching his teeth, Ares pushed the thought of pain to the back of his mind. He swung low at the guard's water immersed legs, only to once again meet the enemy's sword. He spun around and this time went for the neck. The soldier went to his knees and blocked the impending sword with the edge of his own and pushed it back.

Though his boots were weighted with water, Ares lifted a leg from the river and kicked out. The impact landed on its mark, hitting the man square in the face and sending him flying back into the water. Raising a hand to his now broken nose, the Spartan wiped away the blood that flowed from it and grimaced with anger. He sprung from the water and, gripping his sword in both hands above his head, lunged forward.

Phazon watched on as the two fought it out. He needed Ares alive. What good would he do otherwise? The whole premise was to execute him before the people of Sparta. Menelaus would surely be displeased if plans did not go accordingly. Still, the small man watched on silently from atop his mount.

There was another shuddering clash. Ares could feel his muscles burn from the strain. Any weakness, any pain, they all were pushed down. It's amazing what one can do when there's a reason to stay strong. Focus was key. He was fighting for what was right, while this opponent was fighting for his salary.

He jumped back and waited a beat. The Spartan guard came at him again. Taking the sword's hilt between two hands, the ex-Olympian turned around and forcefully kicked the guard in the chest. The impact sent the man under again. The water swelled as his opponent began to rise from the Eurotas. Ares' spun and forcefully swung the sword. It collided with the disoriented soldier's neck, severing his head from his body.

"Enough of this," Phazon boomed.

"Enough???" Ares was fuming, but each word was spoken with complete clarity. Beads of water dripped from the tip of his nose as his nostrils flickered in and out. The look on his face was one of complete disdain. He wasn't about to concede to fear. "I know very well that you need me alive. Either you swear to me that you'll leave Xena out of this, or I'll go down fighting."

Phazon's brows lowered to a point. He was notably angry. Taking up the slack of his reins, he urged his mount back up onto the dry ground. The soldiers sat on their horses and waited for further orders.

Their leader was still visibly frustrated. He recalled the speech he made earlier. They already managed to subdue what they'd sought. It would be vanity to go after the Warrior Princess at the risk of losing more men. They didn't know which way she'd gone and Menelaus would not be happy if another single elite soldier was lost.

Phazon looked at Ares. He still stood in the cold waters of the Eurotas, seething.

The councilman patronizingly smirked as he extended his chin. "Fine. You have my word."

"Yeah...your word. Well, I have no reason to trust it, but then... there's nothing left to lose...is there?" Ares dropped the weapon. It sunk under the bloody water, just the same as his hopes for freedom.

***********************************************************

The crushing of leaves broke the silence, along with the dull thuds of horses' hooves as they hit the ground. With one hand steadying Gabrielle in front of her, the other gripped corded leather reins. Xena sporadically turned her head to look back, making sure they weren't being followed.

Just a few feet in front of her was Cassia and Queen Taris. Both women remained silent as the grey gelding leisurely plodded along the unbeaten path. The former stared back briefly. For so long, she'd lived vicariously through the bard's own exploits and now she found herself immersed in the latest.

The horses weaved in and out of the dense brush and mold laden trees. The sun had, by this time, completely risen. Warm rays cascaded down and what had been an extremely brisk twilight, was now a comfortable morning--at least for some.

Xena couldn't shake the chill. It'd been shrouding her since she was forced to leave Ares' side in the swirling waters of the Eurotas River. Even now, her black hair was still damp and clung to her armored shoulders. She closed her eyes and released a shuddering breath.

"How much further is it?"

Queen Taris looked back, her hands still clutching onto Cassia for support. "Just past that line of trees ahead, Xena."

The warrioress despondently nodded and continued to follow the grey's lead. Their destination was a deserted barn near the outskirts of Sparta's heart. At first, Xena was hesitant, but realized that, with Gabrielle unconscious, there was no way to get down the ridge and into the shelter. They needed another refuge and this was the only option the queen could offer.

Again, these mortals grew silent. Xena listened to the leather saddles creak as the horses moved beneath. Their footfall was almost soothing. Each step kept a rhythm and time. Her eyes loomed at the long grass, dense brush, and tree trunks as they proceeded. Shadows graced the ground in long, extended pools of bleakness.

"I think I see it." Cassia took the reins in one hand and raised another to point. Just a few yards away was what appeared to be a greyed roof. The rest of the structure was covered in vines that sprawled upward, as well as other growth that littered the ground beneath. She arched her head sideways to set her eyes on Taris. "Is that it?"

"Yes, it is."

Xena tightened her grip on the bard, clicked her tongue against her teeth and urged her mare alongside the other horse. She cast her eyes at Taris' hood covered head. "Are you sure it's safe?"

"Yes, no one ever goes there. I doubt Menelaus would even suspect you sheltering so close to the city. He probably doesn't even remember the barn is there." With every reference to her husband, a bitter tone rang in her royal throat.

Xena picked up on it, but only bobbed her head. "Alright. It looks like this is the only way."

They were now at the base of the large structure. Broken boards littered the ground. The foundation was made of stone and the wood was greyed from years of standing against the elements. Gaping holes could be seen in the roof and walls. A lone bird hopped atop the barn before flying away into a neighboring tree whose leaves blanketed the top.

The grass was patchy, giving way to large sections of barren ground. A cloud of dust billowed up from their feet as Cassia and Taris dismounted. Xena began to do the same, but stopped and beckoned for the young servant girl to assist her.

"What do you need me to do," she asked, already quite sure of what the answer would be.

Xena extended the reins. "Hold onto my horse while I dismount. I need to make sure Gabrielle doesn't fall off." Her tone was laden with worry while her eyes loomed on her unconscious friend.

"Of course." She took the reins in one  hand and put the other upon the mare's shoulder.

The warrioress kept a hand firm on Gabrielle's back while she slowly swung her leg over the saddle and to the ground. The second foot came down and her other hand went to the bard's side, carefully leveling her from the mount. As her body descended toward the ground, Xena could hear her friend softly mumble.

"Gabrielle?? Gabrielle, are you alright??" She looped the woman's loose hanging arm around her neck, keeping her upright with a hand on her waist. The bard's eyes slowly began to open. She mumbled again and Xena empathetically stared at her. "Shh. I gotcha. Try to walk with me."

Gabrielle swallowed back. She was still incoherent, but managed to weakly nod her head. The bard leaned her weight on the warrioress for support as they started forward.  As Xena pulled her along she cast a sideways glance at Cassia and tipped her head in thanks.

"Is she going to be ok?"

Still moving toward the barn, Xena wearily answered, "Yes. C'mon, bring the horses."

Cassia sucked on her bottom lip and urged the mare forward. The saddle creaked as the animal began to move. Taris took the gelding's reins in hand and lead him toward the barn as well.

Now, all four women stood at the entrance. The greyed wood was splintered. Large, weedy bushes clung to the paneling, sprawling upward under the glare of the warming orb held fast in the sky.

Xena let go of the arm that hung round her neck and pulled the door open. It eerily creaked as it came ajar. Spider webs loomed overhead. Dust danced visible to eye in rays of light which poured through the holes of the roof. Old hay and straw was crushed beneath the footfall, giving rise to more dust as the women entered, horses in tow.

The inside was quite large and had a second level--a loft. Ten old, slatted board stalls wasted away along the right wall. The wood was molded and littered with bird droppings. On the left side of the barn was rusted farming equipment. There were shovels, axes, plows and harnesses, all coated in thick dust. The air was itchy and the molded old hay and straw beneath their feet did not make it any more pleasant. Deserted nests sat in nooks on the rafters above. Spider webs clung to nearly everything.

Being the last to enter, Cassia closed the door behind her. It once again creaked, but oddly, the sound eased her mind. She secured the latch, turned around, and looked at Xena's armor adorned back. The warrioress stood a few feet ahead, still holding onto Gabrielle. She seemed to be taking in the surroundings.

Meekly, Cassia ventured a question. "What would you like me to do with your horse?"

Xena turned her head and pointed. "See the fur on the back of the saddle?"

The girl stepped over to it and placed a hand on top. "This?"

"Yes, pull that off and bring it here." Xena then acknowledged Taris. "How are you holding up?"

The queen shrugged as she continued to run a hand along her gelding's neck. "I'm as well as one could be in this situation." She pulled the itchy brown hood from her head and sighed.

Cassia meanwhile, managed to get the fur. She started toward the stalls with the mare in tow, and set the pelt on the ground against a wall. "Is this alright?"

"Yes. Thank you." Xena hoisted Gabrielle up slightly and headed in Cassia's direction. Once there, she slowly lowered her friend to the fur and knelt beside her. "Can you hand me my water skin?"

"Sure." Cassia pushed a wavy black lock of hair behind her shoulder and diligently untied the skin from the saddle. "Here you go."

Xena tipped her head in thanks as she had before, and turned back to face the bard. "Gabrielle? Are you alright???"

She slowly looked up and brought a hand to her head. There was throbbing pain in the back of it. Her eyes began to focus. Xena was staring at her with concern.

She swallowed and began to speak. "Xena? Where...where are we-"

The warrioress lifted a quieting finger. "Shh... First things first. Drink." She moved the water skin to Gabrielle's hand. "You got it? Are you alright? Are you dizzy??"

"Yea...and no, I don't feel dizzy." She took the item and drank. Her coherency was starting to return. "But-"

"How many fingers am I holding up?" Xena raised three and put them in front of the bard's squinted eyes.

"Uh, three," Gabrielle ventured as she sniffed back the liquid that dared to run from her nose. "I'm ok, I'm just, " she shuddered, "cold."

Cassia took this as a cue. She untied the cloak she was wearing, slid it off. "Here. She needs this more than I."

The warrioress meekly smiled as it fell into her hand. She wrapped the cloak around Gabrielle's shoulders.

The bard pulled it tightly around her. "What happened? Where are we-"

"I'll explain later." Xena turned to look at Cassia, who was still holding her horse. The warrioress brushed straw particles from her palms on her leather corset and extended her chin. "Why don't you go assist the queen with her tack. I can take care of my own. These stalls look pretty worn, but they should suffice." She took the reins from the girl in one hand and placed the other on her shoulder. "Thank you."

Her eyes opened wide. The legendary Warrior Princess had just thanked her. She didn't think she had done anything necessarily special to warrant this. Still, it felt good.

With one last lingering stare at her childhood hero sitting on the fur below, Cassia replied, "It was the least I could do." She then went to assist the Queen.

Xena started unbuckling the girth of her saddle. The leather groaned from the tug and pull. Gabrielle observed this as she sat, propped up against the wall. She took a sip from the water skin before thoughtfully placing the cap back on. 

"Xena, please. Tell me what happened? Where are we? Where's Ares?"

Hearing the ex-Olympian's name, Xena's eyes lowered in pain. Her mind ran over the events that had happened at dawn. She pressed her lips together, trying to suppress a lump in her throat, and even now, she could still taste him there. She felt a sharp sting behind her eyes, daring to gloss her sight.

The warrioress breathed the tumult back and continued to remove her gear. Without turning around, she answered monotoned and curtly, "Ares is in Sparta."

It was all Gabrielle could to do to keep the water she'd just sipped from sputtering out. "What?! Xena?? The last thing I remember, we were on our way-" Then she realized that whatever had happened to her had impeded their escape. "Oh no..this is my fault-"

Xena slowly turned, cradling her saddle upon her arms. "No, Gabrielle... You fell from your horse and hit your head. It was an accident. Do not blame yourself."

She bent over and dropped her saddle to the ground. A puff of dust rose up and filled her lungs, causing her to cough. Xena grunted, trying to clear her throat, before leading her horse into one of the stalls. She pulled the bridle off, stepped back and picked up a board. Her hands slid it into the slots of the stall's frame, closing it.

Gabrielle, who had sat quietly as she did this, finally spoke up again. "How did they manage to catch him?" She pulled the cloak up to her face and breathed into it, waiting for an answer.

Xena looked to the rafters where fine tendrils of spider webs glistened. She closed her eyes, suppressing the stinging sensation back yet again. "Ares stayed behind so we could escape and not be followed."  She lowered her head and begrudgingly opened her eyes.

Gabrielle realized something as she stared up at her friend's dismal face. From the moment Xena rescued Ares from execution, the bard had thought her friend's actions were prompted by pity or perhaps even gratitude for what transpired on Olympus. At most, she had thought the warrioress did it out of remembering old feelings. But now, all was clear. She knew, that behind her friend's glossy eyes, Xena was mourning the loss of someone she cared for profoundly.

Gabrielle winced. "Xena..I..I don't know what to say..What are you going to do?"

"I don't know." Her tone was laden with regret, but her next words were breathed out with complete and utter determination. "But, I'm not leaving Sparta until Ares is freed." She ran a hand over her chakram. Her eyes now glimmered with a feral-like vengeance. "Menelaus comes back soon... if it's the old man's head, or Ares'... I'll do what needs to be done."

Gabrielle pushed herself further upright. Her eyes widened in shock. "Xena?? What do you mean?"

The warrioress continued to run a finger along the chakram, her eyes disturbingly cold. "I think Menelaus' time on the throne is about to come to a brutal end."

****************************

Nikolaus stood within the throne room, enveloped in shadows cast from candlelight. The council member's head was bowed between his arms and his hands gripped the black marble horse beside the throne. The man's face was contorted with sorrow, making the creases on either side of his eyes blatantly apparent and telling of his years.

That morning, he had awoken to realize that Taris, the woman he loved, the mother of his child, was nowhere to be found. After desperately, yet discretely, searching for her throughout the day, he knew that she had breeched Sparta's walls. That left only one plausible answer. Taris had gone to warn Xena of Phazon's plan.

Nikolaus slid a hand from the horse, placed it on his face and tried to rub away the fear brewing behind his eyes. He knew that she felt it necessary to do something, but he had so wanted to believe that he had convinced her to stay out of it. Realizing he hadn't, and with no inclination of where he could find her, he slammed his fist against the cold marble horse and turned around. Planting his back firmly against the statue, Nikolaus' chest rose and fell in exasperation.

It was then that he realized he was no longer alone. The sound of footsteps echoed as they spilled into the room. Nikolaus looked up and there, approaching with a sinister smile upon his smug face, was Phazon.

Taking a step from the statue, Nikolaus frowned and crossed his arms. He didn't know if he should say something about Taris' disappearance or not. If Phazon captured Ares, there was a very good chance he had also found the queen, but there was also a chance that he didn't even know she was missing. If it was the latter, then bringing Taris up would only serve to expose her actions. Nikolaus chose to be quiet on the matter and awaited Phazon's greeting.

"So, is this where you've been lurking? You missed a most interesting morning," the short man stated as his beady eyes twinkled against the glow of candlelight.

"Is that so?"  Nikolaus smiled grimly. He thought it would be better to feed into Phazon's ever-growing ego so as not to prompt him to do anything rash. He knew of Taris' infidelity and if pushed, would surely tell the king, promise or not.

Phazon walked past Nikolaus, leering at him in a condescending manner. He took a step up and sat down in the royal throne. Greying orbs eyed the fine craftsmanship as he ran his palms along the arms of the chair, grinning with delight.

"Oh, indeed. I captured that recluse...and that will buy me more than you know, Niko." He shifted in the throne and brought his head back to rest on the ornate workmanship. "I could definitely get used to this. King Phazon of Sparta...Phazon, King of Sparta...Oh, so many choices." He grinned again.

"Such the opportunist," Nikolaus replied, rolling his eyes as he took a step back to lean against the wall.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Phazon sardonically chuckled before continuing, "I earned it and you know it. This will most assuredly get me named as Menelaus' successor."

Nikolaus sneered. "Is this to comfort the people of Sparta?"

Leaning forward, Phazon cocked his head. "No...but it will bring about the return to their former warring ways."

"And if they don't want that?"

"It is not for them to choose," Phazon stated flatly. He leaned back in the throne again and a sarcastic glare returned to his face. "By the way... I heard the most interesting news."

Nikolaus' brows lowered. Did this man know of Taris' involvement? Taking a deep breath, he swallowed back. "And what would that be?"

"Well," Phazon raised a clenched fist and propped his chin on it, "at first I hadn't thought much about it. You see, this morning...at the Eurotas...I saw three different horses."

With an askance look, Nikolaus shrugged. "So?"

"Three horses, and only one carried a single rider. The others carried two. It wasn't till we got back to Sparta and put our horses back in their stalls... that I noticed one missing. I inquired about it until, finally, a guard who had been on night watch informed me that two servants took the animal before dawn."

Nikolaus could feel his stomach tense. Still, he shrugged it off in hopes that Phazon wasn't implying what he thought. "What is your point? Servants take the horses all the time to carry out duties."

"Well, this was a particularly peculiar case. The guard explained to me that there were two women. Only one spoke to him and told him that Queen Taris asked that she and her friend go and check on the crops. Now, normally, this would sound feasible...but y'know..," Phazon stopped and grinned, swinging his legs over the arm of the throne as he continued, "when I went to talk with her about the matter, she was nowhere to be found, and when I inquired about this in the servant's quarters, the new girl was missing. Now, perhaps I'm stretching this a bit--but I can't help but surmise that your beloved little Taris and that girl left together to warn Ares of my visit." Phazon could tell by Nikolaus' widened eyes that he was indeed correct. Again, he grinned. "So, what do you think?"

Now it was clear. Phazon knew and here he sat, maliciously playing with Nikolaus' fear.

The tense feeling in his stomach ebbed, giving way to a brewing angst. Taris, the woman he loved, was in great danger. He knew this and he couldn't stand feeling helpless. Nikolaus stepped from the wall. Shadows danced around his feet as he stopped before the base of the throne.

Seething, he spat between his teeth, "What is it you want?"

Phazon raised a brow. "Want? Well, well, well, let me think-"

"Quit playing games!!" Nikolaus raised a fist and shook his head. "You must realize that Taris doesn't stand in your way...nothing stands in your way! You captured Ares and just as you, yourself stated- you'll most definitely be named successor! What else is there?!"

Phazon brought his legs down and sat upright in the throne again. The light of the candles ricocheted from his eyes. "Yes, but I leave nothing to chance.  After the execution is over, I want you to publicly announce your resignation from the council. I want you to forever leave Sparta and never return."

Sparta had been Nikolaus' home all his days. He'd grown united with the city, for it was a part of him. Now, he was being asked to leave all he knew behind-- leave the people he'd grown to see as more than commoners, people he considered family, in the clutches of a corrupt government. But, for Taris and their unborn, Nikolaus knew there was no other way. He closed his eyes and turned around. He moved to speak, but found himself cut off.

"Juuust what ar yu du-ing in my thrune?"

There, slouched against the wall, using it for support, and mouth ajar, was King Menelaus. He was in a drunken stupor and took shuffling steps toward the throne, his shoulder never leaving the sturdy surface of the wall.  The monarch warningly raised a finger and bobbed it up and down at Phazon, who sat with a shocked and leary expression.

"King Menelaus-" the councilman exclaimed as he got up from the throne. He quickly left the comfort of the seat and bowed his head in recognition of the inebriated sovereign. "My most humble apologies. I was merely resting my feet after a long day's work to serve you."

"I dun't caaaare. Geet ouut of muh way." Menelaus forcefully pushed Phazon toward the marble horse as he ascended to the throne and clumsily sat. He brought a finger to his brow and rubbed as he looked the two council members over. "Whut ar yu duing heere?"

Adjusting his robes, Phazon again bowed his head. Nikolaus, however, shook his head disgustedly in regard to Menelaus' drunken state. He took a step toward the throne and frowned.

"I thought you didn't return till tomorrow."

"Whal, I came bach eerly. Fineeshed bar-bar-barteereeng in Pylos. Juust goot bach frum celee-brah-shon. " Menelaus' head wobbled about as he incoherently mumbled. Again, he raised a finger. "Noow, whut ar yuu duing heere???"

Phazon took the opportunity to expound. With a growing smirk crossing his face, he stepped toward the throne. "I'm pleased to inform you, sire, that today at dawn, thanks to my sources," he briefly glanced at Nikolaus before continuing, "Ares was captured and brought back to Sparta. He now sits in the pit and all that is needed is your decision on an execution date."

Menelaus' head began to bob again as he drunkenly swayed, and his mouth slowly curled into a most pleased smile. He wildly clapped. The disjointed echo dripped from his palms and bounced against the stone walls.

"Thaaat is the beest neews I heear all day! Phazon, con-coonsider yourself proomooted! Nootify the peeple! Too-moorroow. Wee'll eend it too-moorroow."

The small man beamed. This was just what he had wanted to hear. With a bow, he responded, "Certainly. Is there anything else you need?"

"Yeeaaaah, whar's that girlie I seent? Or thaat wifeee." Menelaus started to cough uncontrollably. He brought a hand to his mouth trying to quiet the noise, till finally, the spasm subsided. "Eee-ther will doo. I'm soo drunk, I woouldn't be ablee to tell them apart an-ee-way."

Phazon eyes glimmered. He looked at Nikolaus. The glare essentially indicated that it was now or never. Nikolaus' face was shrouded in anger, but with a slight tip of the head, he conceded under the imposing stare.

The small man smiled in triumph and turned to face the king once more.

"Your wife was sent for to check on the crops. Apparently, due to the temperature drastically dropping, there was fear of frost. She took the new servant girl with her. I don't know when they'll be back." 

"Thaat wife! Alllwaaaaays thinking shee's ca-capa-capable of taaking care of Sparrtin affairs!" Menelaus slammed his fist down on the arm of the throne and groaned.

"Affairs? That's one way of putting it, sire." The sarcastic humor did not amuse Nikolaus in the least. The taller man grabbed him by the shoulder and with a warning glare, flared his nostrils. Phazon, on the other hand, was not the least bit phased. He rolled his eyes. "What I meant to say, was that the people of Sparta are quite fond of her."

Nikolaus took a step back. He immersed himself in shadows and turned around. "If this is concluded, may I go now?"

"Well, I don't have anything more to say to you, but I can't speak for King Menelaus."

The old man's head rolled to the side as he squinted his eyes and scrutinized the councilman. "Niko, whan did you geet bach an-ee-way? Last I saw...you w-eere rooning frum Sparta, sha-outing meeeerder." The sovereign began to laugh and another coughing spasm made its case.

Nikolaus turned to face him and sneered. "I came back a few days ago. I thought this whole execution business would be over. Regardless, there are obligations to these people that I can't ignore, so here I am." He adjusted his robes and concluded, "Speaking of which, there are pressing matters. Matters, which I must see to. May I go?"

"Yeeeeah. Geet outta heere. We should allll geet sum reest. Too-moo-roow is the day thaat Sparta reeclaims its integr-integrity." Again, he slammed a fist down and his old grey eyes sparked with drunken delight. "You,"  Menelaus yawned as his head rolled back to look at Phazon, "get one of them laaarge breaasted seeervants tooo help mee to bed. I need muh reeest for thee execution, cos theese time, it'll be done right."

****************************

The night wind brushed the barn in unrelenting strokes. The wooden frame of the abandoned structure moaned with each caress. The horses stood in the worn stalls, their tack and bridles left just beyond the gates, while Gabrielle rested at the foot of one. Cassia's cloak still served as a blanket and the bard was curled underneath, trying to escape the throbbing headache that pounded against her temples.

Beside her, sat Xena. Her hand was propped on one of the bard's shoulders and she briefly looked down at her friend. She meekly smiled, leaned her head against the wall and watched as Taris got up from the ground. The queen brushed straw off of her hands and moved toward the stairs that led to the above loft. Her expression was sullen as she ascended them. The warrioress knew a great anxiety was weighing on her.

Xena sighed and lowered her gaze to Cassia. The young girl sat against a stall frame, staring off into nothing. "You did a brave thing today."

"Thank you. I didn't know what was going on, but I felt obligated to help Queen Taris." She tipped her head at the bard. "She going to be alright?"

Leaning over to look at Gabrielle's resting face, Xena nodded. "Yes. It was just a bump on the head. There's no sign of concussion. She just needs rest."

"Your adventures together are forever immortalized--thanks to her scrolls. She must mean a lot to you, Xena."

Still peering down, she bobbed her head again. Days of fighting, loss, victory and regret washed over her. Xena's path to redemption had wrought many things, but Gabrielle was always by her side. Together, they'd faced horrible circumstances, and neither allowed the other to falter.

"She's my best friend. For a long time, she was my only friend. She's family, a sister who's never turned her back on me and she...she helped me discover that there was a better way." Xena's words were sincerely spoken. Her eyes fluttered up as she posed a question. "Any siblings?"

Cassia sullenly responded, "There...was. A sister. Her name was Alex.. We were so close and one day..she was...murdered by the leader of a small ruffian army."

The warrioress lowered her head. Xena felt regret, even though she knew she had nothing to do with the girl's demise, for she had been the leader of such an army at one time. She had been the Destroyer of Nations and knew all too well what conquest entailed.

Her tone was coarse as she squeezed out the words, "I'm so sorry."

"No, it's alright. I will forever cherish her memory. We were inseparable and when she was taken from me, I didn't know what I would do. I lost everything that day. My sister, my father, my home, but I also.. found something--a glimmer of hope."

Arching a brow, Xena tilted her head. "What was it?"

"Inner strength. I learned that you can carry on. You can stand alone if need be. If you know who you are and stand by it, no-one can take that from you. It's one of the only things that has kept me going through the years of being traded from one city to another. People label me as a slave, but I'm not. I will never accept that and I know I will be free one day... somehow." Cassia cuffed a hand and put it under her chin. "I'm sorry, I kinda expound a lot."

"Not at all. I think it's admirable. So many people don't understand the power they truly possess."

The fingers of Cassia's other hand shuffled through the flakes of straw below. "Well, I just know that while I will always miss my family, the strength they imbued in me will forever be. In that sense, they never really left."

The warrioress lazily sat back against the wall and sighed. "You remind me a lot of Gabrielle," she admitted.

"What do you mean," the young woman asked, flattered that the parallel was drawn.

Making sure not to disturb her resting friend, Xena slowly got up from the ground and stood. She swiped the granules of dirt from her hands and again, leaned back against the wall. Her eyes loomed down at the bard before flickering up to answer Cassia.

"Your unwillingness to lose faith. That was one of Gabrielle's strongest assets."

"Was," she asked, also rising to stand.

Xena crossed her arms as her head rolled back to gaze at the black sky peering down through the holes in the roof. "She's faced some pretty awful things traveling with me, Cassia. It's hard to hold onto innocence when walking the path of a warrior." She looked back to the woman and tilted her head. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-six, actually."

Xena arched a brow. "I thought you were younger...amazing."

Cassia pushed a lock of her hair behind her shoulder and scratched her head. "What do you mean, exactly?"

"Just that...it's amazing how innocence can keep one so.." She stopped and set her eyes on the resting bard by her feet before solemnly shrugging and looking away. "I thought you were a young girl... that's all. If you excuse the twenty-five years we were out of action, that would make you older than Gabrielle."

"But, she's experienced so much more, Xena. You are both travelers of the world. The only traveling I know, is the kind that comes along with being traded." She lowered her head and idly kicked the straw beneath her boot tread.

Xena frowned. "I know the path I walk isn't the easiest, but it's the one I know is right for me... but Gabrielle...as many places as she's seen and things she's done, nothing seems to be able to replace that empty spot where her innocence once was." Xena's fingers rapped against the wall she leaned on. There was a moment of silence before she finally shook her head. "Listen, I better go talk to Taris. There are some details I need. Will you keep an eye on Gabrielle?"

"Of course, Xena."

The warrioress meekly smiled and walked off. Thoughtfully, she took hold of the ladder-like stairs that led to the loft above. With one foot on the first rung, another still on the ground, Xena stopped and looked at Cassia.

"You're a lot more worldly than you know." With that, she made her way up and into the shadows.

Cassia just stood there, a smile gracing her face. Her eyes held fast to where Xena had just been and, for a brief moment, she could feel her own sister's presence.

The bard's eyes were also staring off. They were locked on the back of the girl's head, deep in thought.

Unknown to either Xena or Cassia, she had heard their entire conversation. Their words had definitely made an impression. Gabrielle wondered if she would be able to carry on without Xena by her side to guide the way. She'd been a mentor, confidant, a rock of support, her family, and the bard couldn't help but feel that she would be at a loss without the warrioress leading the way.

It was so painful.

Gabrielle also knew, however, that Xena was right. This path was systematically destroying her. She had tried to retain peaceful ways while traveling by her side. It didn't work. After all the years of helping Xena on her path to redemption, the bard never thought she would be seeking her own.

Could she do this on her own? She didn't know, but she had to try, no matter how scared she was to do so.

Gabrielle didn't want Cassia to know she was up, so she quickly closed her eyes. That conversation continued to echo in her mind, though. As her lashes came down, a teardrop rolled from between and descended down her face. The bard buried her head further into the cloak. She wanted time to think things through.

****************************

Xena reached rickety boards that served as the loft's floor. Making cautious steps, she made her way toward Taris, who sat thoughtfully on an old bale of molded hay. The queen was staring off through a square opening in the wall, listening to the sounds the wind produced.

The warrioress stood beside her. A pulley loomed above her head. It was used for hoisting hay and other goods up into the loft through the opening. Xena clasped the object and swung it like a pendulum. The coarse, brown, and semi-unraveled rope groaned as the weighted piece of metal rocked back and forth.

Taris looked so somber and this caused Xena to frown as well. She looked behind her and found a suitable square of hay to sit on. She promptly took a seat and her fingers fumbled through the flakes as chose her words.

"Are you alright?" She asked, noting that the queen gripped her cloak tightly around her. "It's quite cold up here."

"I don't know if I'll ever be alright, Xena," she answered, her eyes unmoving from the night's cloudy and starless sky.

The warrioress looked up at the still swinging pulley and breathed in. "I need to talk to you about what we're going to do about Menelaus."

At this, Taris' green eyes moved to look upon her. "What did you have in mind?"

"Your relationship with the commoners-- I saw how their eyes were filled with adoration for you, but...are they loyal?" Xena's tone was quiet, yet direct.

"Well...the Spartan people seem to respect me. I try to patient, generous...it has done well to garner their respect." Taris' words trailed off as her eyes lowered. "But, at the same time, they don't realize what kind of man Menelaus truly is and they trust the man. So, I don't know."

"And the guards?"

"That, I don't know either. They take orders from him and carry them out to the letter. At the same time, the soldiers are husbands, fathers, and brothers. That makes them no different from the rest of the Spartan people. And, like them, they are just as much in the dark in regard to Menelaus' apathy. If only they knew the truth." She looked Xena directly in the eyes. "He plans to make them a warring people again, you know. He's power hungry and if he gets what he wants... I fear what will happen, not only to Sparta, but to the rest of Greece."

The warrioress looked down at her worn leathers. Many nicks and scratches could be found if one stared long enough. Sparsely gracing the corset were stitch marks which were made in mending the battle dress. Each stitch had a memory attached, a fight, a battle. She knew what lust for power entailed. Even these leathers were proof of that. They were a constant reminder and, in a way, metaphorical.

No one ever seemed to notice the worn state of her gear. The stitch marks were small, the scratches cast with darkening oil stain. But, Xena knew they were there and they were all too apparent in her eyes. She couldn't help but wonder, if Menelaus were to succeed, would these common people be mending their wares, not due to farming, but due to war?

She finally shifted her eyes. "How long have you been queen?"

Taris ran a hand through her hair and faced the night sky. "It's been so long that I don't even remember. I never really wanted it, but my father wouldn't allow me to decline." She leaned against the wall and looked back at the younger woman beside her. "Menelaus has taken many things from me. My self-respect, my happiness...my love."

"Love," Xena repeated at a whisper.

"Love holds so much power and without it, there is nothing. When I was forced to marry Menelaus..my life with Nikolaus was taken from me and with it, my future...my joy." Her eyes began to gloss. "So many nights I have cried, regretting the day I took my wedding vows. I denied what was truth in my heart to satisfy the wants of others, to do what was expected of me. Do you know what that feels like, Xena? To have the love of your life taken from you...and being repeatedly told that it was for the best?"

Xena's mouth dropped. For whatever reason, one she couldn't explain, she did know what Taris meant. The words of response were not forthcoming. They sat idle on her tongue as she stumbled to reach them. "I..I-"

Taris shook her head as she cut her off. "Of course you know what it is to have the one you love taken from you. " She continued to shake her head as though her question had been silly. "You're going through that right now with Ares," the woman stated, looking pointedly at Xena.

Again, the warrioress' mouth hung agape. She'd never spoken about her feelings in regard to Ares in a definitive manner to Taris or anyone else...not even herself. So, just why would she say that? How could this woman, this stranger, pick-up on something buried so deep?

Xena felt the need to tell the woman she didn't know what she was talking about, even if she did. "Taris, I-"

Once again, she was cut off.

"Don't let him be taken from you, Xena. I tell you this from experience. You will regret it till the day you no longer walk this earth. The loss eats at you... till you're nothing but a shell." Taris brought a finger to her eye and wiped away an impending tear.

Xena felt cornered. She swallowed back the lump in her throat. "Are you crying?" She extended a hand, but Taris gently pushed it away.

"No. I...I refuse to shed another tear because of that man!" Taris wiped her fingers upon the rough cotton cloak and recomposed herself. "He needs to be stopped before he destroys everything within his reach."

The warrioress eased. Taris was no longer discussing matters of the heart. That topic made her feel all too vulnerable. She felt ultimately transparent under Taris' observations and that did not sit well with her--not when she hadn't even admitted these things to herself.

Now that she was talking about Menelaus again, Xena inwardly sighed with relief.

She propped her elbows on her thighs and brought her chin to rest atop her clasped hands. "If the Spartans knew the truth..." Her teeth bit at her bottom lip as the wheels in her mind began to turn. She held this contemplative pose till a flicker sparked behind her eyes, illuminated by the gleam of the moon. "Well, then lets tell them the truth."

She cocked her head to the side and raised a brow. "How do you suggest we do that?"

Xena stood up from her hay bale and brushed herself off. "We'll discuss the particulars once Gabrielle gets up. We need to move on this soon. I understand if you're scared-"

She lifted a silencing hand. "No. I no longer feel fear...I can't feel anything but contempt.

"Fear will be a distant memory if my plan goes accordingly, Taris, but I will need your help."

"As long as it doesn't complicate the pregnancy." Taris' hands moved along the rough cotton shrouding her stomach. "This may be my only chance at being a mother."

Xena crossed her arms. The gleam behind her eyes resurfaced as the warrior in her took over. "Oh, don't worry. You'll be in the safest place possible."

"Where's that," the Queen of Sparta questioned, bringing her soothing hands to a halt.

"Under the edge of my sword."

****************************

Upon a dirt floor, roaches stealthily scuttled about. The annoying sound of squeaking rats could be heard as they made their way from under small crooks in the wall. In the corner, a guard sat under the flickering light of an overhead torch. He picked at the breakfast before him, comprised of flatbread, ham and tomatoes. The sound of his fork scraping against the plate grated throughout the room.

 A solemn and despondent shroud enveloped the imprisoned man, whose face was pressed between two  poles. He closed his eyes, recalling recent days of freedom and his hand slid down the length of one of the bars. Now, immersed in this damp and chilling atmosphere, he stood silent.

Ares' hands curled around the cold steel. He slowly opened his eyes and looked down. They were now bereft of the power that had coursed through them for eons. That intense heat had been extinguished the night Olympus fell. It had been toppled by a selfless gesture of these same hands--the same that had once clung unrelentingly to grandeur and greed.

He closed his eyes again. There were many things he regretted about his life, but giving up Olympus was not one of them.

Ares took a step back from the bars and leaned back against the cold stone wall behind him. He crossed his arms against his chest and stared at the dirt ceiling. The earthen smell filled his nostrils with its moldy scent and triggered a small cough.

A pair of footsteps echoed down the stone steps leading into the 'pit'. Ares immediately recognized the embroidered robes that skimmed the stairs. It was Menelaus.

He stepped into the room, keeping his hands behind his back, and briefly regarded the guard on duty with a nod of the head. He then turned to look at the imprisoned man before him and a smile so maliciously smug crossed his old weathered face.

"Well, well, well...look who's back. Surely, you must now know that there is no escape." He grinned and raised his head, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. "It truly is a beautiful morning."

Ares was not about to allow Menelaus the satisfaction of seeing fear behind his eyes. No, he stood his ground and made not one move from the wall. Instead, he kept his features relaxed.

"Is it morning? I couldn't tell. It's easy to lose track of time down here," he boredly responded.

Menelaus raised a grey brow. "Yes, well, don't worry. You won't be down here all day. I must admit, I'm glad that we didn't hang you as I had planned before."

"I suppose you're going to tell me why," he drawled out.

"Well, while you were on the run, I had time to think things through and," the king's tone grew sarcastic, "the 'great Ares of Olympus' deserves a proper execution."

 "Is that so?"

"Oh yes...especially after I found out that you beheaded one of my elite soldiers."

The corners of Ares' lips turned up. He figured he didn't have anything to lose. He wasn't going to play into fear. No, he decided that if this was to be his last day, he was going to leave it with his chin up in defiance.

"I just regret it wasn't you."

The old man's eyes widened in equal parts of shock and anger. "I see that your time away has not only afforded you with a hair cut, but an attitude that you better suppress," he spat.

Ares remained against the wall, but slightly leaned forward. "It afforded me with a lot more than you'll ever know or understand. But, I see a change in you as well."

The monarch sneered and raised his chin. "And what would that be?"

"Well, you actually look sober."

He scowled. Menelaus knew he had a drinking problem. The throbbing in his head from last night's alcoholic indulgence was still making its case, but he was not going to stand there and let it be pointed out.

"How dare you."

Ares scratched the side of his face and shrugged. "What's wrong Menelaus? Why should my words bother you so? I thought you were in complete control here. I mean, you are planning to execute me in just a few hours. What can my words really do to you...." Ares took a few steps forward, stopping at the bars and clutching one in each hand as he finished, "you pathetic infidel."

Menelaus' nostrils flared. He looked across the room at the guard who sat at the table with a wide-eyed expression. The King of Sparta was none to happy that he was being ridiculed in front of one of his soldiers.  He needed to regain a semblance of authority and quickly took a step forward.

"Your words do nothing but irritate me. I'm going to enjoy your execution, for I did indeed think of a better and more befitting way to end your days." He finally brought his hands from behind his back. There, propped in the right, was a magnificent sword with an intricately crafted hilt. "Recognize this?"

Ares' grip on the bars tightened. He wasn't all that surprised to see the weapon in Menelaus' possession, but it still angered him. "You may think that by executing me you'll become renown as some great leader, but believe me, power is fleeting."

"Oh no." Menelaus shook his head as his smile reappeared. He raised a hand, and gestured like a bard setting a scene. "Can't you just see it? For all time, people will remember the day that I, King Menelaus of Sparta, Conqueror of Troy, beheaded the once fiercesome Ares, bringer of Destruction and War, with his own sword."

He was inwardly shaken by this, but held his ground. "I see that my sword isn't the only thing you've taken." He pointed to the pendant that hung from the old man's neck. "Your facade may work in tricking the people into thinking you're worthy of their respect, but there is something that you will never understand."

"And what would that be?"

Raising his chin and looking down at Menelaus' shorter form beyond the bars, Ares smiled patronizingly. "What it is to be... human."

With an incredulous glare, the old man scoffed, "As if you would! How soon you forget what a ruthless and unrelenting menace you were. How, by your command, Greece was scarred by your legions, all for nothing more than your amusement." He stopped and raised a finger. "That, however, I could understand. You were war, Ares...yet, what I still cannot fathom is, why. Why, would you condemn Olympus. And you dare to call me pathetic?" Menelaus shook his head. "No. You are the one that I find laughable and I'm sure all of Greece would agree. You're nothing, Ares..."

"Correction- I'm more than I ever was. These past few months have taught me a great many things. I'm realizing what it is to be human and as much as you might be shocked to hear it, I don't regret leaving Olympus behind." He defiantly glared at the monarch. "Can you understand that?? I don't regret it. So, go on with your superfluous and condescending speech about how you plan to 'end my days'. In the long run, it doesn't matter." Ares extended his arms. "You can't hurt me, you insipid, pathetic dog and you never could."

Try as he might, Menelaus couldn't seem to intimidate the prisoner. Infuriated, one hand clutched a bar of the cell, while he raised the sword in the other. "You dare to talk to me like that?! Don't forget Ares," the old man's eyes iced over as he threatened, "it doesn't need to be a simple and quick execution."

Ares didn't bat an eyelash.

Menelaus was growing more and more enraged at Ares' unwillingness to concede to fear, but he realized the guard was still sitting there watching. He quickly decided he needed to regain control and composure. The sovereign lowered the sword, stepped back, and took a breath. It was time for a different approach.

"A few days with Xena and you think you're invincible.." The man's grey brows came to a point and he sarcastically asked, "What, did you get a nice screw from her?? Did she declare her love for you??"

"No," Ares answered with a flat and direct tone, shooting daggers at Menelaus with his eyes.

"Aw...so sad to hear it. Then, what's caused this change? What was so special?"

"She granted me her forgiveness." Ares' eyes were set, staring holes through Menelaus. He then stepped from the bars, leaned back against the stone wall again, and crossed his arms. "Not that it's any of your business."

He mockingly laughed. "Are you serious?? She forgives you and now you don't fear your execution? How utterly ludicrous."

"I told you before, old man. You don't understand anything about the matter. It doesn't surprise me," he shrugged and concluded, "but you asked, so I told you."

"And here's another question. Just what did you think would happen, Ares?" He raised a brow and the lines boarding his eyes grew as he sardonically smiled. "If you had escaped from Sparta- just what would you do?? Fight side-by-side with Xena and try to redeem yourself," he shook with laughter, "that you'd travel across Greece righting wrongs?" Menelaus abruptly stopped laughing, raised a finger and scowled. "There is no redemption in war."

"You seem to forget who you're talking to," Ares started, brewing with animosity. He walked up to the bars and stared down at Menelaus. "You call yourself the 'Conqueror of Troy'...Do you really think you won that by your own merits?" The ex-Olympian deliberately shook his head. "Oh no. And now, you think that by executing me, you'll know what power really does feel like?" He stopped and raised a brow. "You must be more inept than I thought."

Upon hearing this, the guard finally stood. The wood table creaked as he bumped the corner of it. "He can not speak to you this way-"

"No, sit down," Menelaus yelled at the guard without even looking at him.  Scowling at Ares, the old man clenched his jaw and seethed. "Just what are you getting at!?"

"I am eons old, while you are a few scant years. So, don't even dare to presume you know anything about me."

"Is that-" Menelaus' words were cut short.

"The rise and fall of empires, monarchs, nations... the art of war and the struggle for power....Century after century, armies and warriors swept across this land, bending it, shaping it, into what you now see." Ares titled his head and took another step forward. "Just who do you think set them into motion?"

Menelaus patronizingly smirked. "The same being who now stands imprisoned by my order." He twirled the sword in his hand, turned around and started to depart. "Enjoy your final hours."

Ares thrust his arm between the bars. "You know this, Menelaus!! Nothing you do today will erase what you truly are! You will never get what you so desperately seek," he chillingly roared.

The monarch spun around, his face contorted with rage. He pointed the sword at Ares and shakily bobbed it. "And you know this! In just a few hours, your head will be sitting atop the gates of Sparta on a pike!!!"

At that, the old man stormed out of the pit, the sword gripped firmly in hand.

Ares looked like he was about to rip the poles from the cell out one by one. The animosity brewing behind the ex-Olympian's eyes was startling and for a brief moment, the guard in the corner felt fear. The soldier remained seated, looked away.

Stepping back against the wall, Ares looked toward the ceiling and drew a deep breath of air before closing his eyes. He was attempting to calm the rage inside. The effort was abandoned as, just moments later, the sound of footfall spilled into the room again.

"What now, you impudent dog," Ares shouted as he lowered his head. To his surprise, it wasn't Menelaus that stood before the steel poles of the cell. "Who are you?"

The man's eyes were downcast. Raising a hand, he signaled the guard to go.

"I don't think I should leave my post," the soldier answered.

"This man stands to be executed in a mere few hours. I want to speak to him alone and you will do as I say! Do you understand!?"

The guard stood and again, bumped into the wobbly table, causing it to shake. Droplets of water fell from the mug atop it. He placed his hands on either end of the table to steady it, and looked up. "But, Sir-"

"NOW!"

The Spartan conceded. "Alright, but if I get in trouble for this-"

"You won't...now go."

The guard nodded, grabbed his plate from the table, and made his way to the stairs. Placing a booted foot atop the first, he stopped. "Just a few minutes." At that, he ascended into the shadows, his steps echoing behind.

Ares' brows came to a point. "I'm asking you again. Who are you?"

Adjusting his silk green chiton, the gentleman stepped forward. He wearily looked up. "My name is Nikolaus."

"Well, if you're here to help, you're a little too late."

Nikolaus lowered his head, placing a hand on one of the cold steel bars.  He felt quite out of place. Here he stood outside the cell that held inside a being which had once been the personification of war. He was admittedly intimidated, though he tried not to show it.

 He stared at the ground and stuttered, "I-I...know."

"Then why is it you came to talk?" Ares crossed his arms and, staring suspiciously at the man, walked up to him. "If this is about Taris, she escaped with Xena."

 "How did you kno-"

"Because you look like you lost something you cherish. That's how." Ares took a breath and leaned against the bars. "I know that expression all too well."

"Yes, the events leading up to the downfall of Olympus...all of Greece knows. You must truly love her."

Ares turned to face Nikolaus. "Yes, I do... and now, because of Menelaus' greed...I will never be able to tell her." He lowered his head and placed his hands on the metal bars, gripping them tightly and wincing from another spurt of pain in his chest. Only this time, it wasn't due to his ribs.

"Do you think she's fled Sparta with Taris??" Nikolaus' brows rose in anticipation of an answer. He desperately wanted to know where the queen was.

Xena's words, 'I'll come for you. I swear it,' echoed through Ares' mind. They stung bittersweet in his heart. On the one hand, he wanted to believe that was true--wanted to hold onto something. On the other, he worried about what her return would produce. He feared for her safety.

Sullenly, he shook his head. "I don't know. Don't worry, though. She'll keep Queen Taris safe. But, I hope they did the right thing and left. I don't want Xena anywhere near here."

"But why?? Perhaps she could save you as she did before!"

Nikolaus was truly confused. This being had once been imbued with powers that the councilman could scarcely comprehend. Why would he be content in defeat??

Ares spun around and crossed his arms, staring holes through the stone wall in front of him. "After everything that has happened...do you think that I could stand the thought of what could or would happen to her?! I didn't give up my immortality for nothing." He kicked the dirt under his feet and turned back to face Nikolaus. "Then there's you."

"Wha-what do you mean??" He took a step back from the bars and titled his head, awaiting an answer.

Ares took a bar in each hand and pressed his forehead between them. "Phazon knew where we were. Thankfully, Taris warned us...but, just where were you?" 

"No, you don't understand. I wanted to help you. Truly, I did-but Phazon- that bastard! He threatened Taris' life. He threatened to expose our affair to Menelaus. I couldn't allow that to happen!" He ran a hand through his greying brown hair and regretfully shook his head. "If I could stop this, Ares...I would."

"Well, it's too late for the 'woulda, shoulda, coulda's',  isn't it? I should know. There's plenty of them that I guess I won't be able to reconcile myself." Ares pushed himself back from the bars, but still retained his grip on them. "You should go, Nikolaus. Whatever guilt you're feeling...don't." He looked at him darkly. "But, don't let Menelaus sit on the throne long."

The councilman's brows came to a point and his mouth fell agape, confused. How was he to take the crown from the old man? He began to say something, but Ares suddenly looked away and took a step back. Nikolaus turned to see what the prisoner was glaring at. There on the steps stood the guard, twirling a ring of keys between fingers.

"Time's up, sir," the soldier stated, making his way back to the table in the corner. The armor he wore rattled with each step. He sat back down and the torchlight cast shadows over the man's face.

"I'm sorry."

Ares tipped his head in response to Nikolaus' apology. He wasn't even exactly sure what the man was apologizing for, but he sounded sincere. Maybe not all mortals thought he was a monster--nothing but the personification of war and destruction. Maybe Menelaus had been wrong.

Nikolaus took a step backward. "Again, I'm sorry."

At that, he turned around and made his way to the stairs. He stopped at the foot of them and looked at the ex-Olympian again. He took a moment to find the words, but found that simplicity worked best.

The councilman took a breath and stated, "Your loss will not go unnoticed," before finally ascending the steps.

Ares faltered backward. As his back connected with the rough stone wall, he clumsily shuffled to the floor. It was like the wind had been knocked out of him. He clutched his head between his hands, the muscles of his arms bulging in frustration. Drawing his knees up, he ran his fingers through his black hair and gazed hopelessly downward. It was so hard to breathe. 

A life that he once thought to be never ending, was about to come to its close?  Eons' worth of existence--snuffed out in a single day. He could not accept this, but what could he do?

Would Greece truly feel his loss? Would anyone?

Ares curled his hands into fists. He doubted they would. No, instead a glorious celebration would probably ensue. Strangely enough, he didn't really care if that was the case.

There was only one person who mattered.

Only one.

"Xena," he whispered with a wavering breath, "I will miss you."

And there he remained, sitting amongst the dirt and crawling roaches, listening to the scuttles of rats. There he stayed, glaring at the crawling fire of the torch, the smell of mold filling his constricted lungs. There, in the shadows, he could feel his agonizing heart descend in unison with a solitary tear which trailed the length of his face. It was the first tear Ares had ever shed in his entire existence and... what was quite possibly the last.

***********************************************************

The light of day peered through the holes of the barn's roof. Particles of dust floated visible to the eye within the beams, never finding a place to rest. The horses softly nickered, welcoming the warmth of the new day. Birds flew in and out of the patchy roofing, engaged in some sort of game of chase. One would fly in, land on a cobweb covered rafter, only to then set to the air as another swooped in.

Queen Taris idly stroked the gelding's soft grey coat. Her eyes were lowered, taking in the sight of Cassia within the slatted board stall. The girl diligently worked at tightening the girth of the saddle. She shared a look with the older woman as a noise continually rang out within the old weathered barn.

Xena was propped in front of her horse's stall. Gabrielle sat next to her, leering. She'd never seen the warrioress' eyes so deadpan. With a stone clutched firmly in her right hand, Xena forcefully brought it down along the edge of her sword. Her left hand firmly grasped the hilt. The weapon was held between her propped up knees, its tip piercing the hay strewn floor. She worked methodically, honing the already sharp steel. With each powerful stroke, the metal cried out. The sound resonated throughout the barn. It was extremely unnerving and the bard could scarcely comprehend how Xena could continue this action as though it made not a sound.

Gabrielle raised a shaky hand and placed it on her armored shoulder. "I think it's as sharp as it's going to get."

Xena didn't acknowledge her words. She continued working the stone against the sword as if not a word had been spoken.

Rising up onto her knees, Gabrielle tightened her grip on her shoulder. "Xena...It's as sharp as it's going to get," she repeated.

Still, she continued on. Her black hair shook as her arm came down again and again, faster and faster. With each downward thrust of the stone, Xena winced. Her eyes fumed with angst and a need for revenge. The bard couldn't deny that this disturbed her. Seeing Xena in this state brought to mind what the warrioress must have looked liked when she went by a different name--when she was referred to as the 'Destroyer of Nations'.

Gabrielle began to shake her shoulder and this time, with a more fervent plea, tried to refocus her friend. "Xena! Stop!"

Finally, she looked up. The expression on her face was blank. "What," she asked, as though this was the first time Gabrielle had spoken to her throughout the course of the past hour.

"You're really starting to worry me. I realize that you're under a lot of pressure, but-" The bard stopped short, lifting her eyes up as Xena rose from the ground and stood.

Shaking flakes of hay and dust from her leathers, Xena held her sword up in the other hand, taking in the sight of her work. She tilted it in her hand to gaze at it from another angle before reaching down, picking up her scabbard, and sliding the weapon in. She then dropped it to the ground, incredulously shaking her head.

"A lot of pressure," Xena asked, sliding out the piece of wood that enclosed the stall in front of her. She scooped her saddle up from the ground and went to her horse. "That's one way of putting it," she continued, as she tossed the item on top of the mare.

Gabrielle stood. "I can't say I've ever seen you this..this...I don't know what to call it." The bard leaned against the stall frame as she watched Xena continue to tack up the mare. "Your plan is solid, Xena. You shouldn't worry so muc-"

In the midst of flipping the reins over her mare's head, the warrioress stopped and lowered her arms. She spared Taris and Cassia a quick glance, noting that the pair was staring at her just as intently as her best friend.

Xena looked away and flipped the reins. "Things don't always go according to plan, Gabrielle. For this to work, it must all go down concisely and I don't know what Menelaus intends to do, or when."

Gabrielle shrugged and ran her hand along the dust laden paneling of the stall. "Taris told us that Menelaus doesn't even come back till tonight. There's still time."

"True, but I'm not going to leave it to chance."

"I understand, Xena," the queen replied.

Cassia crouched under the closure of the grey's stall. Standing upright again, she wiped her hands on her cotton cloak and took a breath. "Well, I'm ready to go whenever you are."

"Alright, now remember what I told-" Xena stopped mid-sentence as a noise generating from outside the barn caught her attention. Her head jerked up and she took a step out of the stall. She reached for her scabbard, pulled out the sword, and started to stealthily move toward the barn door.

Gabrielle clasped her arm and lowered a brow, peering up at her from behind. "What is it?"

Xena raised a silencing finger, her eyes still fixated on the splintered wood door. "Shhh." With slow calculating steps, she continued to move forward. The straw beneath her boot treads emitted hushed crackles as it was trod upon. Tilting her head back, the warrioress looked to the three women behind her and quietly stated, "I want you all to stay here."

The bard adjusted a metal gauntlet-like bracelet and shook her head. "No, I'm coming with you-" She started to bend over, reaching for the sais strapped against her boots.

"I need you to watch over them, Gabrielle. I'm not sure what's out there-just please do as I ask." Xena's blue eyes pleaded for her to concede.

With a hand loosely around the handle of one the sais, she paused. Gabrielle realized that she should indeed stay to protect Cassia and Taris from whatever it was that lurked beyond the barn door.

Slowly, she began to rise and placed a hand on her friend's arm. "Fine. Be careful though," she reluctantly responded.

Xena slightly nodded and reached for the handle. The frame creaked as it came ajar. She raised her weapon an inch and stepped out into the light, closing the door behind her.

The bard's mouth was agape as she stood staring at where her friend had just been. She felt rather uneasy. Part of her wanted to follow suit even though Xena had told her not to. 

Suddenly, Gabrielle jerked her head around, noticing the warm touch of a hand upon her shoulder.

"She'll be alright," Cassia stated.

The bard nodded and faintly smiled. "She always is." 

"But, are you alright?"

Gabrielle lowered her head and swayed. She didn't know the answer to this question. She shrugged meekly, her green eyes looming down at the straw littered ground. "I'm worried about Xena... In all the years we've traveled together..she's never been so..so," she looked toward the patchy roof and shrugged again, "ugh, I don't even know what to call it."

At this, Taris, who had been thoughtfully petting the grey horse all this time, stopped and raised her chin. "When someone you love is threatened-"

Gabrielle cut her off as she turned to face her. "We've been through worse than this though, and still-"

"Perhaps, but Ares is in great danger. She's never had to face the fact that he could be in such peril."

The bard's mouth dropped open.

Yes, she had come to the conclusion that her friend cared for him deeply, but love? It was a little too much for her to handle, especially since the warrioress never spoke of her past with Ares until recently. It all seemed to come out of the blue.

"Are you implying that Xena loves Ares, Taris," she asked skeptically.

"Well, I would think that was quite apparent. She was once Ares' chosen."

Gabrielle put a hand on the stall frame and leaned. Her eyes dashed back and forth from Cassia to Taris. "Yea...but, she was also Ares' enemy."

"Well, they say that the line between love and hate is a thin one," Cassia offered.

Gabrielle gazed up at the dangling cobwebs overhead as she remembered something that she and Xena had talked about the other night.

"It's so hard to walk that line."

"And what just recently happened on Olympus, do you think that line has been blurred?"

"I think it erased it.."

Her eyes opened wide, amazed that she had just not realized it until now.  In a way, she was happy for her friend, but she was also scared for her. Gabrielle couldn't help but notice a change in Xena. Even the way that she had gone about sharpening her sword was enough to cause worry. It was completely unsettling.

Maybe... Taris was right after all.

The bard shuddered at the thought of what might happen if they failed in freeing the ex-Olympian. After all the years of fearing that Xena would revert back to her old ways if she conceded to Ares' manipulations, never did she consider what would happen if--

Gabrielle took a deep, shaky breath and brought her hands to her face.

In the wake of Ares' death...would Xena succumb to her old ways...would she once again become a monster?

The bard turned around, pressing her back against the stall frame. Her hands remained at her face, eyes wide in fear. Cassia's brows lowered. She stepped toward her and with an empathetic stare asked, "What's wrong?"

Gabrielle's ice cold hands slid from her face. "We can't let that execution happen."

"Yea...I know. That's the whole point of this." Cassia was truly confused. The look on her face showed that clearly. Her hazel eyes glanced at Taris, who also sat perplexed.

Gabrielle put both of her hands on Cassia's shoulders, her face exuding a desperation of sorts. "No, you don't understand. There's more at risk here than I thought."

Before the girl's words of response could even come to fruition, Gabrielle bent down, pulled the sais from her boots, and began to march over to the door.

Taris took a step forward, raising her hand as if to stop her. "Xena told us to wait-"

Gabrielle didn't stop, but just as she was about to put a hand on the door, it swung open. She jumped back, startled. There stood Xena, and behind her, with burs and other sorts of foliage scattered through its hair, was Gabrielle's horse.

"I guess he could smell the other horses. I found him lurking at the front of the barn." Xena words were slow and she looked questioningly at the bard. "Going to ambush me?" She pointed to the sais in her friend's hands and before Gabrielle could answer, she strode past her, leading the gelding behind.

"No, I was just about to go look for you," she answered, placing the weapons back in their place.

Xena stopped a few feet into the barn and turned around. "I told you to stay here." The words were firm, almost bitter. Quickly, she lowered her head and shook it. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap." The Warrior Princess' tone softened as she waved her friend over. "C'mere."

Gabrielle's expression was still one of leeriness. There was something unsettling about the look in her friend's eyes, but the bard walked over to Xena as if nothing was wrong. "Yeah?"

She put a hand on the saddle. "It looks like all of your belongings are still here. Your bedroll, satchel," Xena lifted the leather flap of the pouch, "your scrolls. I'm sure you're happy about that."

For a moment, Gabrielle felt at ease. She peered down into her satchel and smelled the unique scents of parchment and ink. This produced a tiny smile. Cassia definitely noticed. More of Gabrielle's famous scrolls were just mere steps away. The girl couldn't help but feel slightly guilty for not informing the bard of the one she had stored within her quarters in Sparta.

"Cassia, go get your horse. It's time to get this bonfire started," Xena stated, sparing Gabrielle a brief glance as she handed her the gelding's reins.

The Warrior Princess started off toward her mare's stall. Bending down at the frame of the enclosure, she picked up her scabbard, slid her sword in, and quickly hooked the item to her back. Xena then reached for her satchel and slid it over her armored shoulder.

"We gotta hurry, it looks like it's going to storm soon. Clouds are moving in," she stated in a worried tone as she lead the horse out of the stall.

Taris looked up through the patchy roof of the barn. What Xena had just relayed was true. She could see dense, grey clouds begin to roll in, darkening the interior of the structure. "Think we can beat the rain?"

"We have to," was the warrioress' simple and direct answer.

"Ready," Cassia stated, pulling the grey out of its stall. Her wavy black hair was held back under the hood of her cloak. Taris took this as a cue to raise her own.

Gabrielle, meanwhile, leaned against the shoulder of her horse, watching Xena intently. The bard was still convinced that her friend was succumbing to her vengeful ways. Even though it was subtle, she had traveled with her long enough to notice the unfamiliar gleam behind her friend's blue eyes.

She flipped the reins over her gelding's head and swallowed back as her hand rested upon the animal's soft mane. "Xena?"

"Yes," she asked, making sure the girth of her saddle was secure, not taking into account the disconcerting look on her best friend's face.

"Everything is going to be alright, Xena..one way or the other." Gabrielle's words drifted along the dust laden air, falling almost deftly upon the warrioress' ears as she began to move toward the door with her mare in tow. The bard started after her, Cassia and Taris following suit.

"Xena."

With a hand on the door, Xena jerked her head around. Her black hair spilled over her shoulders and she lowered her brows. "What did you say?"

Gabrielle brought her gelding to a halt and reiterated, this time a bit louder, "I was saying that- everything is going to be alright, one way or the other- just keep your focus and we'll make it through. We always do."

"No, there's only one way this is going to work." With that, she started out the door.

Gabrielle lowered her head. She was truly frightened about what the outcome of this could produce. She just didn't want to show it, didn't want to acknowledge it, but it was so apparent that she couldn't just push it away. It was amazing how quickly Xena's moods could change. Just last night, she seemed focused. Worried, but focused. Yet, with the dawn of the new day, there seemed to be a drastic change in her friend's demeanor. There was a sense of desperation.

Perhaps that desperation was there all along and the bard just didn't notice it. She was wrestling with her own. There were so many things that she wanted to say. Throughout the course of the night, she wrestled with the fact that she had to find her own way. It was not an easy thing to accomplish, especially because the bard had to do it on her own.

It was clear that Xena's attentions were focused elsewhere. Part of Gabrielle resented this, while the other understood. Regardless, she was dedicated to standing by Xena's side. She was her best friend, her family, and she didn't want to let the Warrior Princess down.

They had to rescue Ares-- or she feared the Xena she had come to know, would no longer be.

Gabrielle took a deep breath and walked out into the brisk air, her horse at her side. She could hear the sound of wood being stirred as Cassia and Taris' horse trod upon a few broken boards that littered the ground. She turned back to face them.

"Are you ready?"

Both women nodded. Cassia looked Xena, who was squatted just a few feet away by a green leafy push, pulling items from her leather satchel. "Looks like she's more than ready."

Gabrielle sullenly agreed. "Yea..and we gotta be just as ready. She's counting on us."

Xena looked up at the darkening sky. She could smell the impending rain. Her eyes were cold and calculating as she lowered her stare, scanning the scattered wood that sat upon the dusty ground. Finding a dried up piece to her liking, she scooped it up and set it down next to her satchel. She reached into the pack and pulled out a small, dusty jar of lamp oil that she had found in the barn last night. Xena also grabbed a rag. She popped off the lid of the jar and pressed the cloth to the mouth of it, saturating the fabric. It was then that she picked up the old splintered stick and wrapped the rag around the tip.

Carefully propping the oil jar under her arm, she pulled out two flint rocks from her satchel. Still in the other hand was the makeshift torch. Walking past the trio of women, Xena's eyes never left her intended path. She stopped at the foot of the barn door, put the torch between her teeth, and took the oil from under her arm. She opened the jar, spilling the contents upon the straw floor.

She shrugged and tossed the bottle into the barn as well. She certainly didn't need it anymore. Now, it was time to really get things heated up.

The warrioress crouched down and began slamming the flint stones together over the saturated straw, till finally, a spark grew into a small flame. Quickly, she dropped the torch from her teeth and dipped the cloth covered tip to the growing fire. It ignited. She smirked.

With torch in hand, she hastily bounded off, turned the corner of the barn and tossed it through a hole in the wall. Smoke began to rise and spill out of the worn structure. She could hear the sound of soft crackling embers.

The dusty, old barn was so dried out, that the fire began to consume it like a piece of papyrus.

Wild-eyed, she sinisterly glared at the sight. Black locks of hair swept across her shoulders and a finger ran across the chakram at her side. She looked most imposing-- a bit of that old Destroyer seemed to peer out through those feral eyes.

Xena spoke one word--

"Burn"

The smell of smoke filled her nostrils, emitting a scent almost like spice. She wasn't the only one to take notice. Xena could hear the horses nicker fearfully, realizing that the structure before them was on fire. The warrioress quickly ran back to the front of the barn. She untethered her mare from the branch of a tree and tilted her chin in the direction of her wary companions.

"C'mon! We gotta go," Xena yelled. Settling into the seat of her worn leather saddle, she reined the horse in as it excitedly side-stepped and steered her away from the fire. 

Gabrielle looked at the two women on either side of her. "It's time," she stated, grabbing the stirrup of her saddle. The bard hurriedly mounted and gathered her reins before joining Xena at the tree line.

The grey bellowed softly while Cassia helped the queen mount. Once she was settled in, the girl climbed up in front of her. "Hold on to me."

Taris meekly smiled and wrapped her arms tightly around the young woman's waist. "Thank you for watching out for me and my child."

Cassia shook her head. "No, thank you"

"For what?"

"For treating me like a person, not a slave."

At that, she clicked her tongue against her teeth, prompting the gelding into a comfortable trot in an effort to catch up to Xena and Gabrielle.

As they came plodding up behind the pair, Xena turned her head around. For a brief instant, she acknowledge the two, but just as quickly moved her gaze to the smoke rising above the dense tree line.

Again, Xena whispered, "Burn."

****************************

The throne room of the Spartan palace was awash with sunlight. Dented shields and nicked swords glinted. Magnificent tapestries, so intricately woven, lapped the stone walls they were hung from as a gentle current of wind poured in from an opened window. Crisp morning breeze was imbued with the aroma of freshly baked breads and foreign spices, emanating from the square below.

And the sounds--oh, the sounds were magnificent. Lyres were plucked by the most capable minstrels as they played for the gathering Spartans. Their melodies flew to great heights and filtered into the walls of the palace. These enchanting instrumentals filled the ears of all those in attendance with the promise of a most entertaining day, a most grand celebration---and for one man in particular, the grandeur of power.

There, just beyond the windows' open panes, was Menelaus. Green velvet was draped across his shoulders and spilled down to the floor. Light shimmered across the fabric and the finely stitched royal emblem that adorned it. It was a regal cape indeed. Beneath it, the old man wore an elaborately embossed, silver chest plate. The lengths of a white chiton hung from under it. Atop his head sat the royal crown. Its jewels sparkled as the sunlight kissed them.

Yet, about his waist hung something not conceived of mortal hands. It was made of black leather, which was nothing out of the ordinary, but the silver ornamentation was the work of Hephaestus. The King of Sparta was wearing Ares' empty scabbard.

One hand sat idle upon the cool stone sill of the window, while the other's fingers clasped the ornate pendant about his neck. This belonged to Ares as well, but as far as Menelaus was concerned, the ex-Olympian wouldn't need it any longer--he would never need anything ever again.

Menelaus' eyes loomed down to the square below, setting them upon a thick, two foot tall pillar of wood that sat atop the scaffolding. He inwardly grinned. The tumultuous crowd of commoners seethed in expectation.

The monarch grinned again. Each crease upon his weather worn skin immerged. In a room of cascading shadows and light, he slowly took a step back and turned on his heel. Now, before him, mere steps away, was the last item needed.

There, in the seat of the throne, standing on its tip, was Ares' infamous sword. It gleamed magnificently in the light. The edges were finely honed and not a single knick scarred the metal. Like the Olympian hand that had wielded it for centuries, it was perfect.

Sandals, laced to the knee, echoed upon the stone floor as Menelaus took step after step toward the item. He extended an arm and placed his wrinkled hand on the hilt, firmly curling his fingers around it. He lifted the sword, gazing at the sheer beauty of it, and taking note of its undeniable history. The old king twirled the weapon about in his hand, smiling wildly.

"Yes, today is a day that will be renown the world over," he stated, admiring the blade.

Sunlight slid and twisted across the metal, coalescing with the reflection of Menelaus' own face. The sovereign's old brown eyes, so faded and murky, sat fixed upon the image, encompassing him briefly in his own thoughts. It wasn't until moments later that he finally registered the sound of someone clearing their throat behind him.

Menelaus spun around, the sword firmly gripped in his hand. The tip was lightly pressed to the throat of the visitor, who promptly raised hands of concession.

"You know you shouldn't sneak up on me," the old king relayed with a wild-eyed expression.

The man before him began to quickly nod his head. Greying brown curls bounced and he warily swallowed back as a finger from one of his still uplifted hands pointed to the weapon. "Yessss, I know that, but is this really necessary?"

Menelaus tilted his head and grinned. "I suppose not." Again, he smiled as he lowered his arm and took a step back. He playfully twirled the sword and turned around as he poised it down and into the scabbard. "So, is everything in order then, Phazon?"

Menelaus made his way back to the window and looked down at the square.

"Everything is ready. The guards are holding him within the hallway."

"Wonderful," the king replied, pressing a hand to the window sill. "Everything is so utterly perfect. Just look. Look at how my people swarm en mass to witness their leader go down in history. This will be the day that marks the start of a new order in Greece."

"To be sure. Are you ready for that," Phazon asked, taking a step toward the window himself.

The light of the sun poured through the opened window, gleaming across Menelaus' eyes. He grinned deeply, staring down at the mass of people below and listening to the soothing hum of their expectancy. "Look at it all, Phazon. They stand there... waiting... waiting for me." Without turning around, he questioned, "So, have you seen my dear wife, Phazon?"

The councilman shifted his weight to one foot as he quickly thought up an excuse for her absence. "Well, last I heard she-"

Raising a silencing hand, Menelaus shook his head. "No matter. Her presence isn't necessary." He pointed a finger down at the colorful array of commoners below and beamed. "They are the only audience I need. Again, just look at how they stand and wait. One day, all of Greece will do the same."

"Yes, they will. And under a most competent leader too," Phazon mused. The last sentence, however, wasn't in reference to the old man standing before him, but rather himself. He had many a plan in store once he gained rule.

"Indeed. We must hurry though. As much as I'd like to stand here and absorb the beauty of it all, it looks as though it's going to storm." Menelaus pointed again. "Just look at all the clouds that are gathering and-"

He froze in place. Phazon took a concerned step forward to stand beside him..

"What is it?"

Menelaus' face grew dark as his old grey brows lowered to a flustered point. "LOOK! Don't you see it?! Smoke!! Where is that coming from?!"

Phazon's face whitened as his eyes settled on the rising cloud of black smoke. It drifted  and curled through the sky a mere few hundred yards from Sparta's gates. "The old barn," he muttered in shock.

The monarch's hand clenched into a fist as he shook. "It's Xena! I know it is!!" He spun around violently and placed an urgent hand upon Phazon's shoulder. "Hurry! Call out the elite guards- FIND HER!!"

He began to drag the councilman along with him as he hastily walked toward the hallway. Menelaus' long green cape drifted along the stone floor, billowing out due to the quickened pace.

"Wh-what of Ares, " Phazon sputtered, stumbling along clumsily under the king's forceful hand.

"Tell them to announce me to the crowds now! I will not give Xena the chance to interrupt. Not after all I worked for!"

"But what about guarding the city!"

"There are archers along the walls, and a handful of guards standing by. Now, GO!!!!" Menelaus pushed him and Phazon conceded, taking off for the hall.

Spinning back around, the old man raced to the opened window and stared out at the sea of Spartans below. He clenched his fist and drove it down upon the stone sill as he breathed out in exasperation and ground his teeth.

"Nothing will keep me from my plans! Not even the Warrior Princess."

****************************

Sparta's commoners filled the square. The smell of baked goods, which sat upon vendor's stands, drifted along the cool air. Sunlight poured down in sporadically. The warming rays dissipated into shadows as clouds moved along the orb. Minstrels continued to strum their lyres. The charming melodies saturated the area, prompting smiles and the tapping of feet.

Before the scaffolding, nearly a dozen armored guards stood by. Their forged armor hung close to their bodies. Atop their heads sat intricately crafted helmets. Green plumes of colored horse hair shifted in the morning's breeze. Hands rested on top of sheathed swords fixed at their waists, and their eyes were unmoving from the mass of people before them.

Children sat upon fathers' shoulders, while young babes sat nestled in the arms of mothers. Gossip and other conversation joined along with the delicate minstrels preludes. People wandered about, some standing at the merchants' tables, bartering for specially priced goods, while others stood in waiting, sipping on cups of mead.

The walls were decorated. Long banners of green and white cascaded down the length of them and gently swayed in the breeze. The palace was also adorned with the same finery. Its great white pillars were wrapped with green, leafy grape vines and silver threading. Granite steps were shrouded in a catwalk of green velvet, set there for the king to trod upon in royal fashion.

Although the first attempt at this execution had also been treated as a festival, it hadn't been as impressive as now. The Spartan sovereign, amazingly waking early after a night of intoxication, had ordered many of these decorations to be set-up before dawn. So it had been carried out, and successfully. No, this time, Menelaus wouldn't merely step out from the side entrance of the palace to carry out the display. This time, he'd make it a grand show.

Once again, jugglers and other entertainers meandered through the crowds, garnering smiles and a dinar here and there. Children ran through the mass, playing games of chase and giggling with each step. Their parents, brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts, and neighbors stood in their finest attire. Now that they knew what to expect, they wanted to look their best.

This wasn't merely the execution of a slave trader or common criminal-- it was the personification of War himself.

Chitons, in an array of colors, graced the seen. Sandals were laced knee-high. Most women had pulled their hair up and threaded it, allowing the lengths to cascade down their backs in tight ringlets, while the men had combed theirs in a Roman fashion. They looked most impressive.

Many more townspeople began to pour in from the inner city which sat behind the palace. They trickled in, much like a parade of sorts, throwing salutations out to those they knew as they entered the main square. Yes, the crowd was certainly electrified with the pulse of excitement as they awaited, most eagerly, for the main event to proceed.

Although their appearance was misleading, Sparta truly appeared to be a most imposing city this day. If one didn't know any better, they would think it a city to rival that of Athens. The truth of the matter was that, at the very core, the stability of this once prodigious land was fundamentally skewed.

While the people appeared to be so grand and noble, most would change into scratchy cotton attire at the closing of the festival. The garnets and other jewelry would be taken off and put back for safe keeping, perhaps to barter for food another day. Farming equipment would replace the drinks they now held. Not only that, but the children would be rounded up and ordered to carry out chores to help support their families.

But, that would be later. For now, the Spartans commiserated and smiled, all in anticipation of what was in store. They didn't need to wait long.

A juggler stopped mid-toss and one of the minstrels pulled a string as both heard the sound of horns echo out above the hum of the crowd. The reverberation bounced against Sparta's stone walls, prompting hearts to skip and race. The time was nearly at hand. All conversation stopped and eyes darted toward the grand main door of the palace.

Standing beneath marble archway was a dark figure, shrouded by shadow. The crowd stood silently as slowly, foot was placed before foot. Shifting streams of light fell over the man, revealing only sparse detail as to who it was till, finally, two hands reached skyward as he came to a halt upon the top step of the green carpeted steps.

It was then, that the Spartan people released the breath they'd been holding and cried out in adoration. Their cheers swelled and rose, taking up a rhythm and singular exclamation.

"Menelaus!"

"Menelaus!"

"Menelaus!"

"Menelaus!"

The King of Sparta grinned from ear to ear, taking in each syllable. Hands still raised to the sky, he waved them about in salutation. The crowd continued to cheer as he made his way down the stairs. Each sandaled foot fell upon the carpet as if he was walking toward his destiny. At the base of the palace steps, he purposefully continued on toward another set of stairs, these ascending to the top of the wooden scaffold.

Phazon followed behind in the monarch's shadow. He too, climbed the stairs of the scaffolding. Once to the top of the creaking wood, he took his spot at the back of the stage.

Menelaus, of course, took to the front. A wicked smile still graced his old face and the crow's feet on either side of his eyes deepened. A wrinkled hand fell to the hilt of the sword at his side, while the other rose in acknowledgement of the sea of Spartans before him.

He surreptitiously cleared his throat, suppressing a cough, and took another step toward the commoners. "Good citizens of Sparta! Mere days ago, I stood here before you. For the loss and decline of the Spartan people--of all of you--and all due to War...justice was to be served."

The crowd mumbled in hushed whispers, nodding their heads and raising their fists. Words could be made out here and there, stemming from different areas of the square.

"Retribution!"

"Death to Ares!"

"To Justice!!"

Menelaus began to deliberately pace along the top of the scaffold, his right hand never leaving the hilt of the sword. The old man's eyes held such an undeniable malevolence behind them. "As you all know, Ares managed to escape due to the meddling of the Warrior Princess, Xena."

As he sneeringly mentioned the warrioress', the crowed echoed back his sentiments and promptly began to boo. They had heard tales of her heroic deeds, but Menelaus had convinced them that, because she had rescued Ares, she was the enemy. Thus, they continued to wail out in admonishment.

This caused the sovereign to stop in place at the center of the stage and smile. He waited until the boos began to ebb and then pointed a finger out toward the crowd, bobbing it in an all-knowing fashion.

"Her attempts to free Ares were futile, for now he stands waiting to be executed. And she... well, lets just say that Sparta's elite are currently taking care of that little problem. No one will stand in the way of Sparta's destiny!!!"

The crowd roared in approval.

"We come together this day,  in retribution for the Trojan War-- for the family many of you lost, for the downfall of our economy and times of dissolution," Menelaus shouted over the cheers.

Those cheers now fell into soft mumblings, and one woman's voice cut through them.

"Where's Queen Taris!?"

Menelaus quickly jerked his head back to look at Phazon. The little man offered nothing more but a blank stare. The monarch tilted his royally crowned head before facing the crowd once more. He rolled his shoulders beneath the elaborate green cape in a shrug.

"She's tending to other Spartan affairs, I'm told. But, no matter-the time has come, and this time there will be no delays." He took daunting steps toward the two foot high wooden pillar at the center of the stage and propped a foot upon it. He looked toward the side entrance of the palace and an order flew past the gates of his lips. "Bring the prisoner out!!!"

All eyes moved to look at the door. They waited, most anxiously, to set their stares upon what was, once, an Olympian. This was a day that would forever be remembered. It was the day that War would succumb to mortal hands--the hands of their sovereign, King Menelaus.

Jugulars throbbed against arched necks. Those of shorter stature went up on tip-toes, craning desperately to see the procession. Mothers and fathers hushed their murmuring children, while others brought their young to sit upon their shoulders so they could witness history in the making.

The dense black clouds still loomed portentously overhead, causing the sun's rays to fall and recede. Shadows fell across nearly everything, but, at the first sign of movement, the crowd pushed forward to gain a better view.

Nikolaus stepped out into the square. He was dressed rather plainly for what was to be such a special occasion. He wore a simple, blue, conservative robe, with no sign of ornamentation. The councilman could hear the Spartan citizens softly murmur, but he kept his eyes averted and fingers locked together as he slowly climbed the scaffolding steps. There was a sullen look on his downturned face. It was almost as if he was ashamed to be there, and perhaps he was.

The unnerving creak of wood beneath his feet caused him to look up. He cast a belligerent look at Phazon and stood next to him. Nikolaus crossed his arms and briefly closed his eyes, silently mourning the loss of promise--the promise of true justice and the absence of his dear Taris.

Slowly, he looked up again, turning his head to gaze back at the doorway from which he had just came. The councilman watched warily as the guest of honor stepped through it. Two armored guards were on either side of him.

The crowd began to roar excitedly. Ares, the personification of War himself, now stood in the square.

There, before Sparta's eyes, was a being that had been in existence longer than the mortal mind could count. These people had been raised on tales of the Olympian pantheon. They'd based their culture on them. The irony of the situation was blatantly apparent as the Prince of Olympus, the heir to its throne, made his way toward the scaffold's stairs.

Ares took note of the people. Unlike Nikolaus, he never averted his stare. No, instead, his deep, penetrating eyes were fixated on the crowd. Not once did he falter as he stepped ever closer to the large, wooden scaffold. The soldiers on either side of him gripped his  arms, for he wasn't shackled. Their swords were pressed dangerously to his back, but he held his chin up high and kept his shoulders squared.

Ares looked as regal as ever.

Women couldn't help but inwardly sigh, taking in the impressive line of his body. Unlike last time, he wasn't in brown cotton rags. He was dressed in the attire that he had found in the shelter. Wearing black from head to toe, he looked like a panther on the prowl, rather than a man on his way to meet his end. No one could focus on Ares' bruises and wounds. How could they?  He appeared to be so stoic and so undeniably imposing--fearless in the face of finality.

Reaching the stairs that lead up to the platform, the guards began to constrict their grip on him. He, in turn, promptly wrenched his arms away and spun around. The men looked up at him in wary disbelief. They weren't exactly sure what he intended to do. They knew the action wasn't an attempt to get away, for there he stayed, staring them down as if in warning.

They immediately raised their swords to his throat. Ares didn't budge an inch. He brought both hands up and curled his fingers around each weapon. The soldier's seemed to freeze in place, their eyes fixed on the prisoner's as he pushed their swords down.

"I can walk up the stairs myself," he ground out.

The guards were completely perplexed. They didn't expect Ares to be kicking and screaming all the way to the place of execution, but they didn't expect the ex-Olympian's indifference either.

Menelaus took a step toward the stairs and looked down at them. "C'mon, lets move," he  quietly ordered the guards. He hadn't witnessed what had just occurred, and just as quickly as he'd moved to speak to them, he stepped back away to regard the crowd.

The Spartan soldiers remained immobile. Their mouths were agape, for they still tried to decipher what Ares was up to. Before they could figure it out, he merely sneered at them and took off up the stairs by his own volition.

The men shook their heads incredulously and followed suit behind.

Each step brought a different line of sight. First, it was just the next board before his eyes, then the next. As he proceeded, the level platform's surface came into view, the bottoms of feet, the wooden pillar he'd set his head down in just a matter of minutes and then, as he set foot upon the top and final step, Ares stopped.

There, before his eyes, he could now see the entire spanse of Spartans. Their faces all held the same excited and anticipating gleam. The crowd was comprised of commoners and nobles alike, men, woman, children.... children.

Ares took a shaky breath as his eyes fell to a young girl in the crowd, clutching to her mother's dress. How innocent she looked... how new. Black hair hung about her face, reminding him so much of Xena. A finger was pressed to her rosy, little, pouting lips. Her almond shaped eyes were brown, wide with expectation and, for a moment, he thought that he could almost see himself staring back through them.

Simply looking at the girl caused profound pain. He had never considered taking on the role of a true father to one until faced with the prospect of mortality. When that happened, he could scarcely think of anything else. Ares had wanted a child, a child with Xena. Part of him had never completely given up on that, even when she'd refused him time and time again. He had always stood firm in the belief that, with time, anything could happen--

but now...there was no time left.

Ares tore his stare away from the girl and looked upon the wooden pillar. Menelaus was leeringly propped on it. A wrinkled hand sat upon the hilt of the sword and the monarch raised the other, as if to say, 'here he is,' to the Spartan people.

So this was to be it--the end of what he had once thought a never ending existence? 

Menelaus malevolently smiled and spun around to face the mass of citizens. "People of Sparta! Here stands the once fierce Ares. It is now time for him to face the penalty of his past crimes, but shall we offer him a moment to speak?" He briefly looked back at Ares and mockingly smirked.

The crowd shouted their approval. They wanted to hear Ares try to explain himself. They wanted to hear an explanation for why war was necessary. The cried out in demand of it.

Menelaus faced them again and nodded. "Alright. The people have spoken. So, come Ares, explain yourself! The words you speak now, shall be your last. Choose them wisely."

Ares lowered a brow and set his jaw. He took slow, thoughtful, steps toward the edge of the platform and looked out at the sea of people before him. The smells of spices and breads permeated the breeze, while the sound of rumbling thunder echoed in his ears.

He crossed his arms and lowered his chin, trying to grasp fleeting words that spun like a dizzying storm within his mind. What does one say when their time is up?  They wanted an explanation for war and he had none to offer. These people would not understand. So, rather than try to make them, he decided that his last words would be better serving if they helped the Spartan people understand something else.

Ares cleared his throat and stared intensely at those before him. He could make no excuse for who he was or what he'd done, though, as the words spilled from his lips, each was laden with regret.

"I won't attempt to ask for your pardons. It is no longer in my power to stop what you all see so fit to do, but I leave you with a warning. In greedy hands, absolute power corrupts absolutely."  He paused and pointed at the old man. "Don't follow Menelaus blindly. Ask him... if he feels that war is so unnecessary--then why did the campaign at Troy last for so long?"

The monarch scowled and the crowd spoke not a word. He quickly raised his chin in snobbery and barked out, "Don't listen to him! You all know why the Trojan War happened. Our security was at stake!"

"No, they don't know why the war happened! If they did, then they would know that the Trojans never threatened your security! They would know that war was the product of your obsession for-"

Menelaus rushed up and grabbed him. "ENOUGH!"

Ares whipped his arm out of the sovereign's grasp and took a step back. "Yes. It's time isn't it?" Then, looking out to the crowd before him, he spoke out once more. "I was War itself, but make no mistake-- it will not die with me."

The Spartan citizens stood by, staring incredulously. They didn't know what to make of the whole display. As such, they chose to not ruminate on it at all, and instead arched their necks to witness what they'd come to see in the first place: The execution of Ares.

He looked toward Phazon and Nikolaus, tipping his head at the latter. It was time, and any fear that Ares had felt beforehand no longer coursed through him. He simply swallowed back and set his eyes upon the wooden pillar at the center of the platform as he walked up to it. He took in the sight of each ring of the trunk's core and ever so slowly, he felt his legs begin to give way. Inch by inch, Ares descended. As he felt the first knee connect with the wood planks, he took a shaky breath and set the second one down.

The guards took their posts behind him. Their swords, although unnecessary, were drawn. Oddly enough, whereas Ares seemed so stoic, these men had a sense of nervousness about them. It was almost as if they were unsure of what they were doing. Had Ares' speech reached them in some way? They were soldiers, young ones granted, but no doubt the sons of former war heroes. Perhaps they heard some truth in Ares' words.

As his arms reached around the pillar, he lowered his head, setting his gaze to the sea of Spartans before the platform. The rough wood was cool against the side of his face. Ares had accepted the situation for what it was. Now, all he could do was remain there, waiting for his own sword to come down upon his neck.

Ares tried to take in as much as he could in these final minutes. Again, the smells of exotic spices and breads seeped into his lungs. Never had he truly appreciated them. As an Olympian, he had no need for mortal delights, but now, he longed to let their scent fill him. The brisk morning air caressed his exposed flesh, sending tingles throughout.

How it reminded him of the morning before with Xena by the bank of the Eurotas River...

The sound of thunder rumbled through the darkened sky. The sun was completely shrouded by cumulonimbus clouds and Ares winced briefly, realizing he'd never see the orb which Apollo had boasted about so often, ever again.

Once again, he set his eyes on the crowd. He took in their faces. Each was so different. There was a unique sense of beauty about them that he had never bothered to concern himself with before. And, even though these faces now held nothing but silent pleas for his end, Ares couldn't help but regret not learning from them.

Almost as some sort of reminder that he'd never know what it truly meant to be a father, he found that same little black-haired girl. She innocently stood by. She didn't know what this was all about. She had no concept of war or revenge--why this execution was even taking place. She was so new to the world, however, no matter how old she grew, Ares knew this child would never know Greece as he did, or the world for that matter.

They say when one faces the end of their time on the mortal plane, every memory of their existence flashes before their eyes. Ares had heard of this before, but never had he thought he'd be faced with testing the theory's fidelity. Yet, the longer he stared out into the crowd, the darker their faces grew. The longer he listened to the ominous rolls of thunder, the more they dissipated into nothing but hushed whispers, and the harder he attempted to take in the faint smell of spice, the more diluted the scent became... till everything was overtaken by a black void.

Ares could no longer sense his surroundings, but, even in this state of subconscious thought, there was a feeling of familiarity. As if out of nowhere, a faint sound began to emanate within. It resonated and swelled, enveloping him. It grew louder and more distinct....it was Xena's voice...singing the funeral dirge that he had heard so many times before.

Yes, that was it and Ares, although knowing the painful and climatic melodic tune was a lapsing memory and nothing more, could think of nothing more beautiful to serve as the soundtrack to his life that now flashed before his eyes. It curled around his mind and constricted his swollen heart, but he savored each note of Xena's beautiful voice coming to guide him to the next life.

But, with each journey, there is always a beginning.

Though it was a time long ago, he had once been innocent. There was once a time when he was as unfamiliar with the concept of war as that young black-haired girl. Yes, each journey does indeed start from somewhere, and the memories began to carry him away, all to the rhythm and tune of the funeral dirge.

"Ares, what are you looking at?"

"A winged creature. It flutters about as if it has not a care in the world."

"Ah, a butterfly. Watch."

"It must like you mother, sitting on your hand like that."

"Don't let appearances fool you. While it may seem to be graceful now, it was once a worm. These mortals are much the same way. The may look like us, talk as we do, but they are not the same. We hold a power they can scarcely comprehend."

"And what do we do with that power, mother? Mother, what are you doing?! You're crushing it!"

"Remember, my child--- you are to be the essence of war. Destruction, angst, and retribution--"

"Those words... I don't understand!"

"They are your purpose and I will teach you all you need to know."

~**~**~**~**~

The dirge continued, so soothing to his just recently revealed heart, as he recalled the bitter sense of abandonment.

"Sister, why is it that dad shows such admiration for you, yet... he turns from me?"

"Your mother has claimed you as her keep. While he trains me, you are in her custody."

"Why is it that way?"

"Who better to teach you the ways of spite?"

~**~**~**~**~

Still so new to the stratosphere, his doubts were erased and replaced with apathy.

"I don't know. These mortals are just learning to forge homes, families--"

"Learn to forget what it is to feel empathy. 'Tis a mortal trait."

"Is that such a bad thing, mother?"

"Yes. There is no place for it! Now, it is time. Take this sword as a symbol of your birthright. Feel that power, Ares. Use it. You are the prince of Olympus and at your command legions will rise and scorch the plains to enforce your decrees."

~**~**~**~**~

Ares recalled the first time he felt like he was serving his purpose. The images were so frighteningly clear. The sounds of mortal screams coalesced with the melodic rhythm that saturated his subconscious.

"Your first war. Why all this senseless destruction? The stench of it disgusts me."

"Because, Hera explained it was time, Athena."

"So, how do you feel in wake of this ruthlessness?"

"That I'm doing what I was intended to do."

~**~**~**~**~

Ares remembered what had happened after that.

The rest of the pantheon began to grow somewhat fearful of him. Their wariness had convinced him all the more that he was a success. He was what his mother had taught him to be. He was War. He was retribution, and he was the heir to Olympus.

When he had realized this, something new began to grow within-contempt for those who dared to stand in his way.

"I see that your son's powers are growing greater with each passing decade. He has taken most of Greece under the banner of war, brother."

"I realize that, Hades."

"You both should be thanking me! I'm doing what the others can't seem to. Yea, so I might rule with an iron fist...but they're mortals! Besides, just look at how each war I engage shapes the land. Look at how loyal my legions are, how they fight with such rage."

"But, there must be a less destructive way, nephew."

"No, it's the only way."

~**~**~**~**~

He remembered the sounds of legions declaring their loyalty.

"To fulfill the mighty Ares' destiny to rule the world! To Ares!"

"To Ares!"

~**~**~**~**~

"Athena, back off of my territories or I will be forced to-"

"What? You do not possess a warrior skilled enough to take back Athens. You ruled it for centuries and now it is mine."

"So, they renamed the city after you? That'll be rectified. I will find that warrior, Athena... even if it takes me a thousand years."

~**~**~**~**~

"Mother?"

"Your father..another dalliance with a feeble mortal woman. It has produced a boy...your new half-brother. You must help me, Ares...my child, my favorite."

"What is it you want me to do?"

~**~**~**~**~

"So, Ares- what are we going to do about Hercules?"

"Strife..We'll soften him up where's he's weakest-- his pathetic mortal feelings."

~**~**~**~**~

Still, Xena's mournful song intoxicated him as he remembered... as he remembered it all....

"What is this look in your eyes, Ares? It almost bares a mortal reflection."

"After eons of waiting and watching, I finally found a warrior worthy to be my chosen. She's beautiful. Her hair is as black as-"

"Stop! You sound smitten, a pathetic emotion. Remember, Ares. These mortals, they grow old...while you- you are immortal. The two could never entwine."

"She possesses a rage to equal my own, mother, and when I looked upon her-"

"What did you see?"

"My destiny."

~**~**~**~**~

"Join me, Xena, and together we will rule the world."

"Why me?"

"It is your destiny to be by my side."

~**~**~**~**~

"I brought you a gift. Something that was surely meant for you, and you alone."

"It's unlike anything I have ever seen. Where did you get this?"

"I searched the world over for something worthy of my warrior princess. It was no easy task to accomplish. You, my dear, are hard to shop for."

"You certainly don't disappoint. I  will treasure it... always"

"Well, I like to be different. I got you a ring that can slice and dice."

"And I brought you a ring as well..."

~**~**~**~**~

"You were wonderful, today. Thousands of men littering the ground...I knew the minute I first saw you that you were destined for great things."

"I'm in the mood to engage in our own sword play."

~**~**~**~**~

"For the first time, Ares... I felt this .... I don't know- fear. Not of the enemy army, but of- I don't know I can't place my finger on it. It's almost like guilt."

"Xena, you've been my chosen warrior for many winters now. This is just a phase."

~**~**~**~**~

"Stay Xena.. You feel it. That anger, that lust for power- don't deny it. It's a part of you. I am a part of you."

"I do feel them. For ten years I've felt them!"

"Ten years? These are the only things I've known for eons, Xena. Don't fight it-Greece is nearly yours."

"And that's why I must stop before I lose what's left of my-"

"Mortal heart?"

"Yes."

"You don't need it."

I need it more than you know, Ares...just let me walk away.

~**~**~**~**~

There were many times he had listened, undetected, as Hercules attempted to thwart his plans.

"Xena-- she's on the loose again, Herc."

"It's not Xena we have to worry about, Iolaus. Our real problem is with a warrior named Darphus. He's slaughtering everyone in sight for the greater good of Ares."

~**~**~**~**~

" Listen sir, if Darphus' name doesn't scare you, maybe Ares' will."

"Ares? There's not one man in this camp that hasn't paid tribute to him by fighting in a war somewhere along the line, Hercules. He bears us no ill will."

~**~**~**~**~

Ares remembered....reminiscing...

"This is the site of one of my greatest triumphs-- the battle of Torrence. Ten-thousand corpses littered the battleground. The stench was invigorating."

"So, who was the great general responsible for this... aroma?"

"No general Strife. It was a warrior-- Xena. She led her army through opponents' infantry like flies. Limbs were scattered everywhere. It... was... beautiful."

"You miss her, don't you? It's a shame she decided to change sides."

"I wouldn't give up on her just yet. Death's perfume can be very-- addictive. Let's just see how my game plan unfolds."

~**~**~**~**~

Then, the time came when memories of her were no longer enough.

"What do you want?"

"I want you back, of course. My warrior princess living as my warrior queen. We were once a great match."

"I didn't know any better then. I thought your ways were all there was for me."

"Now that you do know there is another side to life-- now tell me--are you really having more fun these days?"

"I'm fighting for a better world."

"My dear Xena, you were always fighting for a better world.