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by Madeline
Violence: Ummm...I don't think so, it might be referred to, maybe a bit graphic...
Subtext: Uh-uh. I'm going to try not to mention the blond.
Sex: No.
Summary: Just read it.
Rated: G-PG
Dedication: Ummmmmmmmm... this is for my best buddies and all my friends on the message board.
Pages: 8
Number of words: 2739
Number of paragraphs: 148
Number of lines: 401 (and you're all saying: and I care why?)
Author's note: I haven't seen any of Seasons 1-4, and only the last 4 or so of Season 5. So I have no comprehension of what Xena and Ares were like previously. So I'm re-writing Xena history here, okay? If you don't like it then make like a tree and leaf!
~*~
Orphic Hymn to Ares
You love raining torches
and bloody battlefields.
The stink of human gore
is your favorite incense.
You love the din of war:
crashing swords and spears,
screams of hatred,
rage and pain.
You embitter human life
with works of woe.
Fear and Panic
are your children.
You reduce cities
to smoking ruins.
You are the dog
and the vulture.
You are the boar
who gores Adonis.
Listen to Aphrodite.
Hear Dionysos.
Let Demeter keep
your iron sword.
God of war,
protect innocence.
Give us peaceful
gentle abundance.
What first attracted him was her skill. He had never seen it before in mortal like her. The more he watched the more impressed he became, until he felt a deep respect for the young lady of Amphipolis. And that was saying a lot, coming from him.
He knew that he must have her.
Making himself known was not difficult, what surprised him was that she was aware that he was there before he actually appeared. While most mortals would cower in fear, this exceptional one stood her ground and watched him with a wary eye, not quite frightened but in no way vulnerable. Pointless conversation was made- no, that's not true. Nothing that she ever did was pointless, every move she made was calculated ahead of time.
The strange thing was the way she affected him. Over any and every one else, he felt dominating and more powerful. She was a cruel reminder that he could not and did not manipulate all. She felt no fear towards him and stated her mind. Where as others would have died instantly, he felt nothing but amusement towards this determined female.
He found himself appearing at her side occasionally, watching her train herself with an expertise previously unknown to mortals. Her precision and movements were beyond compare. He would help her, slowly molding her into his image of the perfect warrioress. Her sweet face could deceive anyone and often did. All but him. He'd appear at any time, and he could tell her emotions in an instant.
He'd bring her small trinkets- a dagger, a silver hairpin, a ruby brooch. She seemed unimpressed with them all, almost bored as she took them with supreme indifference.
When she missed their meetings he brooded, upset that anything should come before him. He had never encountered a mortal such as she- she mocked the Gods where others feared them, she faced them while others would hide, she waved them away where others would dash to their attendence.
Then one night he appeared in her room on impulse. She laid in her bed, looking deceptively sweet and innocent. Looking at her then depicted an innocent young girl who wouldn't know how to defend herself. The silk of her hair played about the pillow case, and danced around her face. The coal of her starry eyelashes contrasted with the perfect ivory of her porcelain face. She looked like a piece of Elusia brought to Earth.
He stood there, gazing at the strange temptress, the inexplicable mortal whose melodious laughter he sought and whose company he hungered for. The sound of her voice was craved, a glimpse of her lovely countenance was desired. He stood there with inner turmoil...not sure of his emotions for this extraordinary beauty.
He avoided her for a while. Something had changed within him, as if she had darted past the garrison around his heart and hopped inside. He watched her from his sanctuary, watching the strange melancholy look that flittered over her face before the stoic look of determination replaced it day after day of his absence. She didn't know of his nighttime visits, the way he watched her as she slept, thoughtless of the battle that raged within him.
When she arrived, she felt him immediately. A brief light of hope shimmered over her face before a bored one replaced it. She greeted him almost coldly, as their lessons began she shrunk from his touch and made her responses short and clipped. He was unaware of the sense of abandonment that had filled her in his truancy.
Soon, a war in a distant land required his immediate attention. He went out of his way before he departed and sought her out. He explained the situation. She nodded carelessly, depicted the why-should-I-care look. He look her soft hands in his and smiled. He then pulled her forwards and kissed her.
Wordlessly, he disappeared.
~*~
He returned many months later. Subjugation was his, but not without a fearful cost. He had lost half of his army to the ruthless jaws of the enemy. He now wanted nothing more than to relax for a few days.
He quickly appeared to his normal spot. Something was off, he sensed it right away. There was something wrong. All was silent. The wind held it's breath, the birds quieted their songs, the river stopped it's babbling. Gripped with fear, he transported himself to the center of Amphipolis.
The city had been ravaged within an inch of it's life. Wounded and dead littered the streets, the wails of children and women echoed through out the seemingly dead city. And then, in walked the victors.
But at no small price.
They may have triumph, they may have their glory, but at the price of their once magnificent town, and their men.
The leader of them all kept her head held high, despite her loss still thrilled with the joy of conquest.
The city turned a deaf ear and a blind eye on to their leader, whom they had exulted as a queen but hours before, now cast out and shunned her.
As the wounded limped to their homes, the barely injured warrioress returned to her home with a heavy heart.
She did not expect what was coming.
The condemnation. The denunciation. The liability.
The guilt.
It was she who was faced to burden this, a burden given to her by her own mother.
Her mother was the voice of the town. It was her fault their beloveds were dead. If not for her, they'd still be living.
Not a true statement to say the least.
She attempted to fight back with no avail. She was one of the damned now.
Her face showed no inner torment as she apathetically left her town from infancy.
She showed no signs of sorrow as she slowly left Amphipolis.
~*~
She bluntly called for him. It was an order, not a request, for his presence. He appeared instantly. She abruptly announced what she wanted.
She wanted to become one of his warriors. Not one of his simpering priestesses, she wanted to be a warrioress of the highest regards. She secretly aspired for army domination.
He instantly granted her request. Their training began in the earnest, teaching only the best moves, using only the best weapons. She learned the newest moves first. This continued until he felt their was no more he could teach her. Her skill nearly equaled his own.
She was then made a warrior, a position she held for such a small period of time it was barely worth mentioning. He realized early on that she was easily more skilled than any of his commandants.
He gave her her own army immediately. The legionaries challenged her authority continually in the hopes that the determined young lady would leave. Instead, she cracked down harder on them. Discontent spread like a wildfire.
He was not blind. He realized this instantly. He called them to attendence. The circled him. He called for her to come forwards, then called for the strongest and best male warrior. He then handed the two of them swords and told them to fight. Surprised but never unprepared, the unprecedented female took the battle stance. The battle was short , due to the fact that she was so obviously better trained then him. She was proclaimed the victor.
But instead assuring her legions of her worth, it demeaned it. Or at least it did to all that dared to voice their opinion. Most of the ranks admired their brave leader and were proud to serve her, but dared not to oppose their stronger comrades.
~*~
Then came their first big battle. Their battle plan was flawless. Everything played according to plan. The enemy never even knew what hit them. Before sunrise the town was theirs. There were but three casualties on their side. Victory was theirs. Now even the skeptics realized what a perfect leader she was.
Her army now was unquestioned. When she demanded something, she got it, whether it be a horse or some food to a city or land. She was a ruthless, brutal warrior. She stopped at nothing to get what she wanted. Her conquests were renowned, her name struck the greatest fear and admiration in the heart of all.
He watched this with the greatest pleasure. She proved him right time and again. Her calculations and plans were constantly impeccable, always three steps ahead of the enemy. No one stood a chance when she set her sights on her latest conquest.
And then, she suddenly demanded to be his Chosen.
That took no thought on his part, that was what he had desired since he set eyes on her.
The ceremony took place, and she was named his Chosen.
And she also gained a new title.
The Warrior Princess.
~*~
Cities continued to be captured in his name, all who opposed her were killed, all her followed her were rewarded with the glory of their commander's name.
But something had changed. The plans continued to be paramount, she continued to be unparalleled. Yet she seemed unsatisfied.
Somewhere along the endless trail of brutality, he had lost her.
She had seen the evil of her ways.
She wanted to repent.
~*~
She felt no qualms about dropping her army, the army that had obeyed her without question, who had untiring loyalty and devotion.
As abruptly as she had requested her position she dismissed it.
Someone she had met had told her of her evil ways, and was helping her towards the way of light and from the path of darkness.
A small village girl from Potadeia had done this to her.
He did everything in his power to change her mind. He tried to persuade her otherwise, he used force, he ignored her, he mocked her...nothing worked. As she continued on her path for redemption, he continued with his goal: to get his Princess back.
But it was no use. The only person more stubborn than him had made up her mind. There was nothing her could do. Bribery wouldn't bring her back, threats, mockery, deception, even manipulation did nothing to the determined warrioress. She still fought, but now for good.
With the village girl at her side.
Years went by like this, him, still without a clue, her, still set in repenting. He could not understand why she didn't come running back to him. She confused him like no one could. Any other mortal he could manipulate, what was so special about her? Why could she frustrate him like this? What made her so Godsdamned special that she could deny the God of War?
The more he thought of it, the more he believed it. He was obsessed with proving her wrong, proving to her that she did need him.
Years went by, her still travelling along her path of atonement, him tagging along behind her, racing to stop her.
And both were miserable.
It was easily noticeable in the change of his disposition what was the cause of the change.
It was not so easily seen in her.
Behind her stoic façade, no one ever dreamed to think that something might be missing. Only in fleeting moments- a beloved memory here, a dream there- could she not overpower the force in her.
The force that drew her to him.
What had it been?
The intrigue? The machination? The passion, the danger, what? Had he taken advantage of a young girl's heart? Had he tricked her when she was most vulnerable?
She pondered over this as she watched the burnished embers glow in the night.
And she came to a realization fairly quickly.
No.
He had never done anything like that. He never tricked her or forced her or anything like that. All that she did she had done willingly.
She'd been living a lie for countless years.
She had blamed his influence, and since his reputation was already questionable, she felt no hesitance in putting a few more black marks on it.
But no. It was not entirely his fault. He had been an over-powering influence, but in no way the only thing that made her the way she was.
She had created that person. It was she who had done those terrible things to all those people. Not him. He never discouraged it, but he never directly told her she must do that.
It was expected of her.
But a hidden truth lay in the back of her mind.
She had wanted his pride.
That's right, his pride. She wanted nothing more than to be the best of all. To make him proud of her.
She had felt the need to right her wrongs. All her wrongs. That's what her path for reparation was all about: atoning for all her terrible deeds of the past.
The first was to tell her companion. She had changed her for the better, it felt right that she should be the first to know.
She told her it all, all about their relationship and her reasons and how it was not entirely his fault. She stopped saying it was all his a fault and took some of the blame herself.
Her companion nodded slowly, as she watched her friend. She seemed almost giddy at her realization.
And then, she nearly shocked the poor girl to death.
She no longer hated him.
Her friend tried to convince her otherwise. He was base, evil, corrupt, terrible. She could never go back to that way of life.
No, she explained carefully. She did not want to go back to that way of living. She simply wanted to have his affection again. She was sick of being hated by someone she felt so much for.
She rode up to his temple just as the sun disappeared under the horizon. She climbed off her faithful steed and walked in. She called for him.
She tried again.
And again.
She called for an hour, there alone in the abandoned temple.
She felt discouraged, but refused to give up.
Finally, he replied.
And she poured it all out to him. She told him exactly what she had realized.
She concluded that she wanted to be his friend.
The ever-hopeful god immediately granted her request.
"I'll never return to my ways," she warned, "But I want to rid this barrier between us." and slowly, the Warrior Princess extended her hand.
And the God of War took it.
And that simple act fanned the flame of their love for one another.
Not that it was simple, both being stubborn and unwilling to change. But true love conquers all, including those two.
And to this very day, the tale remains a favorite: The one of the fierce God of War, Ares, being conquered by a truly magnificent mortal, Xena.
And of their timeless love.
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