Twilight's Kiss (Immortal Flame)
by Something Royal

Once as black as a raven's wing, tresses hung loosely tousled against the pallor of a regal face. Once as blue as the relentless Aegean, tired eyes peered from beyond looming lashes. Gentle lines, telling of one's years, made their presence, folding gracefully at the mouth. Lips, bereft the delicious pink hues of youth, remained restfully down. Drawn air, drawn life, poured in and out just above, albeit, not with the casual ease of days long since past.

All was starkly quiet in this place. The crackling embers of a nearby fire burning brightly in the hearth made the only sound to fill the ears of those in attendance with their playful melody. Each spark born upon the wood grew slowly into deep spectrums of dancing flame. They began their journey upward along the stone hearth, hungrily lapping at the sooty surface.

Yes, a spark--

It would grow singularly, finding its niche, before seeking out the camaraderie of its kin. A prodigious fusion would take place, bearing below them yet another onset of flame upon the crackling wood. They would then rise to greater heights within their world--within the hearth.

Just as life is born anew into a world of endless possibilities, these flames would traverse the length of their realm to the furthest extent allowed. Brilliantly, fiercely, and without an impeding sense of fear, they would dance. Tonight was their night. While the moon sat heartily in the sky amongst the deepest sea of black, they would continue to play as the most innocent of youths, illuminating all that fell before them.

Even the light of the solacing moon, peering down and in through panes of glass, could not overtake their never-ceasing promenade. Instead, these beams of soft blue mingled as cousins, joining them in their tumultuous journey. Unified by a predilection for casting out the dark, so as the eyes could see, they continued on their way.

A sword, just under the guise of bleak shadow, glinted. Lines of sharply honed steel ran abreast of one another in silvery tracks. Pools of black, where knicks had caused flaw, were also outlined in graceful, shining swoops. The blade hung against the wall and its sharp tip would draw one's eye downward...if not for the hilt.

It was ornamented by a circumference of yet more metal--a disc. Intricately crafted and perfectly symmetric, it was. It, too, bared the marks of use, yet this did not detract from its dangerous beauty. The light danced playfully, running laps around the circular item, flowing across the curved arm that fell across the radius.

Swirling light continued on its conquest to vanquish shadow, crawling the length of a finely constructed wood floor and illuminating a grand pelt sprawled generously across the surface. The long tendrils of black fur glinted at the tips, which rose up and out from the base. Contours gave way to shine, while the depths of the fur remained solidified in black.

Indeed, it was an inviting site. Perhaps akin to it, another pelt, just as grand, could be found elsewhere. The edges spilled over a bed and skimmed the ground at a hair's breadth. Whereas this fur barely made contact with the floor, streams of silken blue ran the length of a most grand canopy frame, falling the length of four individual posts. They ran as a river, shimmering all the while under the watchful eye of the fire. In pools of indigo, they kissed the wooden floor.

Yes, all had been starkly quiet. The sparking embers of the hearth had carried on their decadent solo as a night so still progressed. Yet, another sound soon broke the peaceful instrumental for a rumble began to grow within the breast of one of the audience.

The cavity swelled with the impending influx of hollow pressure. Lips turned down and the frail fingers of one hand gripped the fur, while the other flew to the ascending chest in an effort to suppress the pain.

Prompted by this action, another pair of hands reached out. One gently fell about a thin wrist and the other curled back, calmly brushing fingertips along soft skin. They ran their course, slowly following the contour of a neckline, down a shoulder, to then settle about a slender waist. These hands--this second set of hands--pulled a shaking form into a tight embrace. They set out to calm the wracking spasm as whispers fell from the tongue of their owner.

"It's alright. Everything is going to be alright."

The words came quick, spilling into a feminine ear from a set of masculine lips pressed close. The woman's blue eyes fluttered subsequently, feeling soothing breath brush her skin. But, despite its warm comfort, her body continued to shudder.

Her lips clamped down, holding back another cough. Still closer to his chest he pulled her, arms wrapped solidly around her body... these arms that had once been so finely chiseled as if they had been carved from stone.

With his back firmly supported by a pillow and the bed's headboard, he cradled her infront of him, allowing her body to be warmed by his own. For the past few months, no matter how brightly the fire burned within the hearth, no matter how many furs were layered upon her, she could not feel the heat penetrate to soothe her aching body. No, there was only one way to bring comfort to her now, and he held her so tightly to himself that she would often muse that she could feel his heart beat against her back.

The last few sputtering gasps broke through the wall of her lips and she eased her head flat against his warm neck. A residual burn still shot across her chest. Licking her lips, taking a labored breath, and swallowing back, she stared off into the fire. A shaky hand rose and the sweet melody of jingling metal immediately began to play. It was soon enough hushed, as she placed her hand upon one much larger than her own.

Threading fingers, the melody resurfaced, this time doubled. The instrumental emanated from a set of bracelets, intricately forged, and caused a set of reminiscent smiles to pull at the corners of their mouths. He gently kissed her knuckles and moved their entwined hands to rest upon her chest, once again idling the tune.

"I don't think they'll make it in time."

A pair of brown eyes lowered. For many years now, these eyes held nothing but joy. Yet, increasingly over the past few months, and particularly tonight, they exuded an impending sense of loss.

"Don't talk like that."

Again, the room fell silent, with the exception of the fire which continued to spark and flourish.

"Tell them...for me, that I will always love them...please."

These were pleading words. He shook his head against her own, bringing his lips to fall upon her shoulder, and a muffled response grazed the exposed skin of her collar bone.

"You've always been self-sufficient. You can tell them yourself."

Her fingers weakly squeezed his own. "If I'm still here." She felt his chest expand as he began to protest. Again she squeezed, and with a slow tilt of the head, looked up into his eyes. "I'm not scared."

He regarded her complacent face. He could see the years, the family, the life they'd built for themselves recounted within her crystalline eyes. They remained fearless, just as he'd always known them to be, and he couldn't help but smile at this. Some things, indeed, never changed.

"No, you've never been frightened of anything." He gently planted a kiss upon her forehead. "Just stay with me...please."

She smiled, recounting days past, and lines played about her lips. A compassionate face loomed over her own, so regal even now. A grayed head of hair, whitened beard and moustache, these had once been black as pitch. Some things, indeed, do change.

She brought a hand to the side of his face and he eagerly leaned into her touch.

"You know that if I could, I would stay with you forever." Her hand languidly slid back down into her lap as she stared wistfully off into the hearth. "Fire. So much like life. It grows from nothing but a sparked ember. It has the capacity to destroy, to warm, to illuminate...and I know that eventually, just as all things, that fire will burn out."

"Xen-"

She cut him off with a bob of her head. "It's the way of life, Ares." Xena propped herself up further, still staring away at the glorious dance of the flames. "The fire inside is slowly burning down, but I leave behind our legacy, our children."

He lowered his head, recalling something she'd once told him, so long ago. "They're your source of immortality."

"Yes, and I fear that I won't be able to say good-bye to them... one last time. So, I ask you to do so for me." She felt another rumble grow in her chest and took in a quick breath in attempt to push it back down.

Ares looked about the room and slowly, ever so slowly, he slid out from behind her. The boards creaked under foot as he stood and moved to the nightstand which sat by the bedside. A pitcher, a basin, and a glass sat upon the dark table. A hand, worn through time, reached for the former and poured its contents into the cup.

The boards creaked again as he made his way back to the bed and were hushed the moment he sat upon the edge of the mattress. She watched as he did so, noting the way he stared at her as he extended the glass.

Ares' eyes were turned up, a familiar gleam lining them. Almost cautiously, Xena took the water offered her and began to drink. She peered up at him from the rim of the cup and a grayed brow arched in her trademark style.

"I know that look," she started, a corner of her mouth tugging up. "What are you thinking?"

Ares observed her, taking in the way that her once gorgeous black hair now fell loosely about her shoulders in streams of dark grey, the way her eyes still glimmered playfully after all this time--the lines that extended from each. He let his own run the length of her collar bone, which peered out from a white linen dressing gown.

"Ares? What is it?"

Her hands, wrinkled with age, gripped the cup between them and held it close to her parted lips.

"You don't have to go."

Xena's brow arched even further. "What do you mean?"

"I'll show you."

Taking his top lip between his teeth, Ares stood. He adjusted the black night robe he wore and strode over toward a chest that sat at the foot of their bed. It was a beautiful item. Each corner was embossed in silver steel, while the rest was comprised of ebony wood. Indeed, it was most unusual. They had purchased it many years ago, and after affording the chest with a lock it hadn't been opened since. Year after year, it had remained sitting at the foot of the bed, unmoved.

Fumbling about, Ares reached within the folds of his night robe, grasping at a rope that hung about his neck. Upon feeling the tight cord, he smiled slightly and drew the length of it from his chest. Contrary to what some would think, there in his hand was not the Olympian bestowed pendant that he had for eons worn. No, upon this cord, there sat only a key.

With caution, he placed a hand atop the chest and lowered himself to his knees. A small grunt passed his lips as he felt the hard wood floor beneath his bones, but he quickly set to work on finding the keyhole. The task accomplished, he turned the lock and puckered his lips upon hearing the bolt click. The metal bond fell loudly to the wood floor.

Ares trailed his fingers about the smooth lines of the chest before allowing the tips to bounce along the intricate steel edges. Many years had passed since its contents had been seen by their mortal eyes. He could hear the bed creak and knew that Xena's interests were most certainly piqued.

"Don't move. I'll be right there."

He lifted the lid and, immediately, a smell so familiar poured into his nostrils. He breathed it in gratefully, seeking to drunken his lungs on the scent, relishing the memories it carried. Ares peered into the trunk and reached in. The first thing felt was the unmistakable curve of metal.

He closed his eyes and inwardly grinned. "An ample breastplate to be sure."

Still, fingers continued on, working their way across the items within the chest. The cool feel of leather came next. He pulled on this, revealing a pair of his old black pants, and set them upon the floor. Reaching back in, he felt another leather piece. This time, as he brought the item out to be seen by firelight, his eyes warmed, for they took in the sight of Xena's worn battle dress.

Carefully, he set it aside and continued the search.

Ares' hand moved back and forth over a variety of their past attire, until finally, he stopped. A portentous look came to settle upon his face and slowly, he pulled out his old gauntlets. There was an odd flicker behind his eyes and he wobbly stood.

"Xena," he began, resuming his place by her side upon the bed. "You know that I love you.."

Xena regarded Ares curiously, for this had been more of a question, rather than a statement. She pursed her lips, weakly blinked and nodded. "Yes, of course I do."

"There's something that I never told you... I don't know why." Her expression was unreadable, but he continued on, running a finger down the edge of one of the gauntlets. "After what had happened on Olympus...after you'd freed me of the Furies..."

"Yes?"

"While they mighta messed with my head, making me think the Amazons were keeping ambrosia--" He stopped abruptly and shook his head under the look of anticipation now scrawled upon her face. Letting go of the gauntlets, Ares took the glass of water from her hands and set it aside. Her hands now empty, he filled them with his own. "Xena, the fact of the matter is that there really was ambrosia... the Amazons just didn't know about it."

Her eyes widened. "What?? What are you trying to say?"

"After we had our talk on the hill, I walked off. And you know me, I'm not one to let things go so easily." He brushed the side of her face with the back of his fingers. "Especially when it's something I care passionately about. So, I marched myself right back up there. I wanted to catch up to you...tell you everything about how I felt... but.. you were already out of sight."

"You know why I had to walk away," she whispered, bringing her hand to meet his upon her face. "I wasn't ready to let you back in yet. Neither were you."

He gently squeezed her fingers and nodded. "I know."

"So, what happened?"

"When you weren't there, I was at a loss. I didn't know what to do. So I sat. I sat for what seemed like hours upon that tree stump. I did a lot of thinking--about what you'd told me." Ares shifted on the bed and stared off into the fire, the flames reflecting light across his brooding eyes.

"Go on."

"You were right, it wasn't the time for us, but I decided to wait until it was. That day, I accepted the fact that I was mortal... and y'know, oddly enough, it was then that I found what I had been seeking."

Xena brought a hand to his face and, with what strength she could muster, beckoned him to look at her. "You--you found ambrosia?"

There was a span of silence. They sat there wordlessly conversing for what seemed an eternity. The moment did pass, though, as the sound of a crackling ember popped loudly.

Ares took a breath. "Yes. When I stood to leave, that stump actually fell over and there it was, tangled in its roots. Odd, I know."

"But you didn't take it..You, you-"

"No, I took it. Something inside just wouldn't let me pass up the opportunity. It was like... I don't know.. insurance."

Xena's eyes began to gloss, unable to to believe that he'd kept this secret from her. "You mean, this whole time... this," her hand swept up and down before his weathered face, "this was just a facade??"

"No, no, no, no!" Ares shook his head fiercely, trying to ease her fears with a smile and a warm hand grasping her own. "No, Xena. I assure you, I'm mortal. I didn't eat the ambrosia. I put it away...kept it."

She immediately leaned back down into the pillows, her expression drastically changing, and wrapped her mind around what he'd just told her. Part of her wanted to wrench her hand away to slap him, but the confusion was too gripping.

"I don't understand, Ares. Why? I mean... why wouldn't you take it? You could have had your life back."

He didn't answer.

"Ares?" Xena lowered her head weakly, never unlocking their stare.

"I had resigned myself to carry on as a mortal, Xena. Discovering the ambrosia--just as I came to this decision-- made me all the more determined to prove myself to you."

"But you kept it," she replied, more bitterly than intended.

"Yes, I did. If I couldn't be with you, there would be nothing left for me otherwise." He reached for the gauntlets, sorting for the right one. Once found, he picked it up and bobbed it back and forth within his hand. Ares' face was most determined, most reminiscent of days when he tried to coerce Xena into something in the past.

"Right here. It's right here under the inlay, Xena. You can go on forever."

Even after all this time, he loved her as much as the day he had first professed it. They'd grown old together, just as mortal lovers do, each taking on a crease here, a grey streak there. Years ago, they'd reluctantly retired their weapons, taking up a simple way of life. Together, they'd brought two children into the world--a boy and a girl. The latter had since married and started her own family, while their son still followed in the footsteps of his parents. Ironic that this "simple" way brought these two warriors their greatest joy.

"Xena? Please, consider what I'm saying." He leaned in, attempting to read her face.

She sat unmoving. Her eyes loomed as though deep in thought and her mouth opened to words that would simply not come. "Ar-"

"The days of playing games are long gone. You know that. I'm just a husband trying to do what's right by his wife."

She bit her lip and raised her eyes. The warrior of long ago began to peer through them, taking on a glint of renewed sensibilities.

"We can be together, forever..." Xena smiled at the prospect. It was as though the news alone had erased years from her body, for she now excitedly pulled him close to her. "I don't ever want to lose you."

Ares welcomed her embrace and buried his head against the line of her neck. A steady, warm breath poured from his lips as he brushed them against her skin and stroked the long tresses that fell upon her back. Yet, he did not speak.

Xena's chin rested upon his shoulder all the while, a large smile gracing her face. "We'll be young again. Strong again...Warriors again." She looked up at her chakram and his sword which were hung on a nearby wall, glinting in the firelight, and softly laughed. "We'll need to do some weapons sharpening of course."

Still, Ares did not speak.

She pulled back to look at him. "What's wrong?"

Ares' face was sullen, but he quickly attempted to regain some sense of stoicism and took her hands in his. "Xena...you asked before... why I didn't take the ambrosia...get my life back..." He stopped to cup her face. " You are my life."

"I--I don't understand what you're getting at.." Her eyes were laden with worry now. The spark of renewal was diffused, leaving only confusion behind.

"There's only enough for one, Xena. I want you to take it." Ares picked the gauntlet back up. Twisting one of the rubies embedded in the metal in an attempt to pull the inlay from the leather, he continued to stare at her with his dark, weary eyes. "It's going to be alright. I told you everything was going to be alright."

She quickly halted his hand with a strength that surprised him. "No."

"What?"

"You really expect me to do this? I go on, while you eventually pass away? No, Ares, I won't."

Her face denoted that this was indeed how she felt. Regardless, Ares urged her to reconsider. "But, Xena, you can watch out children raise their families--our grandchildren, our great grandchildren--"

"To also watch them eventually pass on?" Xena lowered her head, her eyes welling at the thought. "I couldn't." She breathed in and coughed. "You--you, you could do it... after I'm gone."

Xena couldn't believe she'd just suggested that, but she loved him to such a great extent that she only wanted to know that, wherever he was, how ever far away, he was happy. Maybe the time had come for Ares to go back. He'd regain his youth, strength... perhaps, even forget about her in time.

She closed her eyes and inwardly winced at this thought. Her exterior, however, remained calm. "Ares, after I pass on... you can reclaim the life you were born into--your destiny"

"You are my destiny, Xena." He pulled her close to him again, drinking in the scent of her body. "You are."

An impending tear was caught between her lashes and her face hardened. "There'll be time. You can consider it after I'm gone." She looked up blankly. "I think you should."

"I don't want to talk about it. Look outside. Dawn will come soon. The moon is starting to descend."

Dragging her fingers against his chest she sputtered out another cough, this one much more forceful than usual. Her whole body shuddered as she continued to succumb to wave after wave of spasm. Ares' mouth dropped open and he drew her closer to him, ceasing her body to wrack with such inward pain.

"It's going to be alright, Xena. Everything is going to be alright."

"Dress me," she breathed against his skin. "I want to go outside-- see the sun rise one last time... I don't want to pass on in here."

"You're not going anywhere. You're not going to leave me."

She looked up at him sympathetically. "It's time, Ares...I feel it coming. Everything is wavering between clarity and black." She coughed again. "I'm tired. So, very tired."

"Xena..."

"Please," she nearly cried.

Feeling them begin to sting, Ares closed his eyes and promptly rubbed at them with a hand. "Wh-what do you want to wear," he asked, feeling his throat constrict with each and every word that he dared to speak.

"My old battle dress."

"No, Xena, it's too cold out there."

"Ares, I know what I'm asking. Please, I can't do it myself." She stared up at him pleadingly. "I'm a warrior...you know the code."

Those brown eyes now seared all the more with a most bitter sting. He gazed skyward, discretely attempting to remain strong in the face of the one he loved so dearly. "You know I can't deny you."

Again, as gracefully as possible, he situated her and rose to stand. Eyes that had been once filled with such promise now held nothing but burning tears that he refused to let fall infront of her. He swallowed back and moved to the end of the bed, picked up her battle dress, her armor from within the trunk, and boots.

Cradling the items within his arms, he leaned down and kissed her lips as his own trembled at the touch. He set the outfit upon the bed and pulled the warm fur blanket from her weak body. His hands moved to her legs, running the length of them, recalling nights of explicit passion as they traversed her skin. The nightgown she wore slid upward with the caress, her own eyes closing at his gentle touch. Slowly and considerately, he continued to pull the garment upward, bringing it up and over her head. He set it aside.

There, amongst the flickering shadows and still night, she was naked before him. Her once supple bosom no longer firm, her belly now of a woman past the days of her child bearing years, pouting in the light. No longer was she the lithe warrior of days gone by, but not an inkling of shame was on her face.

Oh, how he loved her. Even now, her beauty remained and he would gladly spend eternity with her if only to soothe and care for this woman as he had for the past several years. He cradled her face in his hand, faintly smiled when she leaned into the touch, and planted another kiss upon her lips.

"My beautiful warrior princess."

He reached for the leather battle dress. Carefully, he brought the item over her head and pulled her tired arms through the straps. Then, holding her steady between his hands, Ares brought Xena forward and situated her against his chest. He could feel her heart beat against him as he worked the ties behind. Each finger ached, arthritis making its case, but he did as she'd asked and pulled the strings together, securing her waist.

Next, he took the armor in hand. With caution, he lowered it onto her shoulders, grimacing at the thought of its weight hanging on them, but he knew she wanted all of her gear. Fastening straps and hooks together, he settled the steel into place, all the while staring on with such adoration that he felt as though his heart would cease to beat.

He continued to dress her. A hand wrapped around the crook of her knee, pulling a leg up and sliding it within a boot. The curves of her thighs glistened in the light. Ares tied the laces and moved to put the next on. He repeated the same motion with her left leg, caressing each inch of skin as he set the boot into place.

"There," he stated sullenly, now standing upright.

Xena looked herself over and smiled. "Thank you." Her eyes peered down beside her frail form, gazing at his gauntlets. She weakly pointed and asked, "Could you put mine on?"

Ares bowed his head. "Yes." Again, he moved to the foot of the bed, but before retrieving the items she'd asked for, he picked up his old leather pants which still sat on the floor next to the trunk. "As long as we're going out... I'd like to go in style as well," he mused, desperately attempting to see her smile again. This comment prompted her to do just that.

"Yes, it'll be like old times."

The corners of his mouth slightly raised. He disrobed, his own body telling of its years, but still handsome. Xena couldn't help but blush. So statuesque had he been in his youth and now, years upon years later, those lines of the past remained. Ares had always been incredibly regal and remained so to this day.

He put on the pants, feeling the recollections of younger times wash over him. Next, a pair of boots were lifted from the chest and slid upon his feet. Ares scanned the inside of the trunk and pulled out his old tunic, slipped it over his arms and fastened the ties. It was amazing how everything, even now, fit so perfectly.

After smoothing the edges, he extended his hands and grinned at her. "How do I look?"

Xena smiled naughtily, her ivory teeth glistening against the firelight. "Well, I would jump you--if my body was as young as my mind."

Ares pulled his lips into a pucker and bobbed his head. "Tease."

The warrioress laughed at this.

He really found no humor in the situation, but for Xena's well-being, to make the end of her time here enjoyable, he'd dance stark naked to keep her heart merry. No sooner did this spark of playfulness come to be, then it grew dim as his demeanor turned earnest once more. Almost reluctantly, he ventured back down into the chest to pull out her gauntlets.

With deliberate steps, he made his way to her side. Part of him wanted to say something, but there was not a word to be found upon his tongue. Sometimes words weren't enough anyway.

Ares picked a hand up in his own and brushed it with his lips. She smiled at this endearing gesture and continued to do so as he applied the first gauntlet. Once secure, he took her other hand, kissed it as well, and put the second on.

"How do I look," she asked as her hand slid from his and into her lap.

Ares was reaching for his own gauntlets, but drew back to gaze at her, this beautiful warrioress who'd captured the heart he never even knew existed. Through the years, he'd often sat staring into those crystalline depths--he always did love the way they held his reflection, for though he couldn't speak for the world, in her eyes--he was redeemed.

"Ares? Do I look ridiculous or something?"

He let his head sway as his response, so completely imbued with truth, spilled from his lips.

"You look beautiful. You will always be beautiful."

Her lashes lowered in bashful thanks.

Standing upright, Ares took his gauntlets and strode towards the fire. He leered at the burning embers, listening to the residual pops and fizzes. All the while, he strapped the items to his arms, his face now glowering with impending fear. Xena would soon make her departure. She would soon leave him. An empty bed would be where his head would rest. Her warmth would be absent and no fire would be able to warm him.

Ares continued to peer down at the receding flames. As always, Xena had been right. As all things come to pass, this fire, one that had burned brightly all through the night, now began to burn out as twilight fell. The sting returned to his eyes, yet he still would not allow her to see him cry. If she was to pass on, he wanted her to do so knowing that he'd remain strong in the wake of her absence. He wanted her to believe that--even if he knew otherwise.

He gulped back, adjusting another item upon a gauntlet.

Xena, meanwhile, stared on at his broad back. She'd known Ares the majority of her life. They had been many things to one another. The dynamics of their relationship had taken on many forms, but always the constant was their deep and unbreakable bond. She had no doubt in her mind that they were indeed meant for one another. It was a great truth that she'd known from the moment she'd first set eyes on him; from the moment he'd told her himself.

Ares' right arm surreptitiously swung and fell to his side as he spun around. A loud crackle popped in unison with the movement.

"Are you ready," Xena asked evenly.

He looked down, idly kicking at nothing. He ran a hand through his neatly trimmed white beard and solemnly raised his eyes. Inside he cried out, 'no, I'll never be ready to lose you,' but Ares maintained composure and merely nodded his head.

With hesitant steps, he made his way to her side. Ares slid his hands beneath her, balancing her body upon his arms. He was not the youthful and strapping man he'd once been, but, for her, he called all of his strength to the forefront. He slowly began to rise, drawing Xena close to him. The shift in weight prompted a quick footing adjustment, but he carefully eased her down against his chest.

Her legs dangled limply, while her arms made their way to wrap around his neck. The heat of his skin transferred to her own at the touch. Xena nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck and whispered, "Thank you, for taking care of me."

Ares began the journey out of the room, making each step with the utmost caution. Within his arms he held the most precious treasure he'd ever known and when hearing her speak those words, he echoed them back.

"No, thank you... for showing me what life really is."

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

Sitting beneath a glorious tree, laden with lush, green leaves which twittered and spun in the wake of playful currents, Ares held Xena to him. The thick trunk provided stability for his back, while she came to rest her own atop his chest. Cradled between arms and legs, the warrioress peacefully leaned her head back into the crook of his neck. The gentle fall of his breath upon her face soothed her mind, her body.

Whatever the temperature, for now she felt nothing but heat encompassing every extremity. The rhythmic beat of his heart gently tapped at her back, causing a smile to play upon her lips. Her eyes were raised skyward, taking in the sight of pale blue and pink hues beginning to grace the twilight sky.

The sun would rise soon.

Still, a chorus of crickets continued to orchestrate melodies. Birds, waking early for their daily breakfast hunt, also chirped in unison to beckon the beauty of another morning. Yes, Xena knew that days such as these were still in great number, even though she would not be there to see them. She felt at peace at the thought, however. Her children, their children... they would be able to take in the majestic beauty that the world offered so freely.

Ares looked down upon her complacent face. She was so calm, while inside, he was screaming. Her fingers were threaded through his own. Together they remained in this entangled embrace, awaiting the sun to peak over the snow-capped mountain tops which jutted out of the distant hillside.

Their wait was not a long one. From between two prodigious peaks, the burning orb began to ascend and greet the sky. So grand, so beautiful, its bountiful warmth cascaded down in lapping rays of heat. Xena closed her eyes, feeling a tear precariously drip down from between her lashes. The last sunrise she'd be witness to was now before her. She never wanted it to end.

The tear rolled down the length of her face, leaving a wet trail behind, and her lashes flickered back up to take in the glorious morning. She smiled with such a passion, causing sparks to dot her eyes in a renewed sense of innocence. Her legs and arms were gradually becoming numb, but she took no notice. Keeping the warrioress at ease was the rhythm of Ares' heart beating behind her. Her fingers, now losing their sense of touch, fumbled limply down the sides of his hands, and she gasped in response to the radiant light which drunkened her irises, causing them to widen.

"Ares... It's.."

"Xena??" He frantically sought her face. "Xena???"

She weakly wobbled her head against his chest, attempting to take in the sight of him. She knew the time had now come. It was mere moments away. As breathtaking as the sunrise was, she was beginning to fade in and out again. If it was now, she wanted to look upon this man who had taken on her anger, her passion, her love. Xena wanted to remember for eternity, the handsome lines of his face, the warmth in his eyes.

She truly did not know if she'd see him again. There was the ambrosia and if he chose to take it...

Xena blinked the thought away and gazed up at him. "Ares... no matter what happens...no matter what you do, know that I will love you--forever."

He was at a loss. Ares could see her slipping away from him. "I love you, Xena--always" He brought her closer, pulling her limp arms up into his grasp, and rocked her within his embrace. " Always," he whispered again.

As they'd done countless times before, Ares and Xena locked eyes.

He leaned down to kiss her parted lips, taking in her taste, her scent, taking comfort in the feel of her breath across his face. It was like a gentle breeze grazing his skin, sending tingles throughout his body. Finally, he let his eyes close, and a solitary tear was set free. It burned like a trail of fire as it continued a downward journey between his face and her own.

The sensation this one tear wrought had briefly made Ares unaware of the absence of another. His face, pressed tightly to Xena's, no longer felt the sweet fall of her breath. Ares' grayed brows came forcefully down as he squeezed his eyes even tighter. For one sparse moment in time, he allowed himself to think all was fine, but the truth was evident. Within his grasp, beneath a pair of trembling lips...she had passed away...

Ares' whole body shook, but he refused to disengage their embrace. Instead, he buried his head into the crook of her neck and wept, all the while rocking her--this once fiercesome Warrior Princess--in his arms.

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

Within a tavern located upon lands claimed by Attica, a boisterous atmosphere saturated the area. This establishment was a regular stop for soldiers, mercenaries, and the like. Consequently, it was generally a place where one would often hear gossip revolving around one particular topic: war.

Such was the case this night. Drunken men lined the room and working girls sat upon random laps, batting eyelashes and puckering their lips. Hoots and hollers echoed about at a rather disconcerting volume as patrons messily indulged in their alcohol. All tables were completely seated, while only a few random stools sat empty at the bar.

The wooden floor was littered with puddles of spilt drinks. These quickly turned to nothing more than gooey spots, for boot tread after boot tread walked through them, thickening the dispensed alcohol with muddied soil. One man nearly slipped, but was caught by the elbow as another stepped into the tavern.

"Careful there."

The drunken man's head bobbled as he raised an admonishing finger. "Yu be watchin' where yu be goin', mister," he growled through a gap between his yellowed teeth.

He reeked of ale and at least three day's stubble grew in patches upon his scarred face. This man was, no doubt, looking for a reason to start a fight. The newcomer was not going to oblige. Instead, he simply rolled his eyes and proceeded into the bar, leaving the would-be brawler standing dumbfounded in the doorway.

Finding a stool that was acceptable, he seated himself and placed a small, leather satchel upon the counter top, before leaning forward in an attempt to catch the eye of the barkeep.

"When you get a chance-"

"JUST a minute," the robust man spat, wiping down the counter at the other end of the bar.

The gentleman resigned himself with a sigh and turned in his seat. A sea of drunkenness churned before him, inciting a feeling of deep dismay. Normally, he wouldn't bring himself to pay patronage at such a place, but it was the only tavern that included an inn. With a storm raging outside, all he wanted to do was get a good night's rest and think upon what his next step in life would be.

He sighed and ran a hand through his black, curly hair. Slowly, he sunk into the rather uncomfortable stool and his arms came to rest against his chest. Just moments later, he stiffly sat up, for a pair of insistent fingers were rubbing his shoulders.

"Hey there, handsome."

Spinning in his seat, he found the trespasser was one of the working ladies. He smiled considerately, displaying beautiful, ivory teeth, accentuated by soft, pink lips, and shook his head.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not interested."

Somewhat offended, the girl cocked a brow and waved a hand along his body. "What? I ain't good enough fer you?"

Again, she waved a hand along his body, only much slower-- as if realizing that her bitter reply had been ridiculous. He was most certainly dressed in impressive attire. The brown tunic he wore had been finely stitched and laced with strappings fit for a king. The pants were the same, for they were a matching set. Yes, fit for a king, but made for a warrior.

He observed the girl as she eyed him. Her lovely, dark hair was messily tousled about her face. Her shift of a dress was tattered this way and that, and she also appeared to be somewhat inebriated. This was no surprise, considering that patrons of the establishment were probably, though, only somewhat, beautified through a cloud of liquor.

He empathetically lowered his blue eyes and reached into his tunic to pull out a few dinars.

"Here, just take these. A gorgeous girl such as yourself doesn't need to work at a place such as this." He dropped the coins into her hand and the girl's eyes widened with each 'clang'.

"Y'sure 'bout this mister," she asked, still holding her palm out so as to silently convey that she would hand them back if necessary.

He nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure. Besides, I don't think my fiancee, who, strangely enough, you look a lot like, would appreciate you getting them from me any other way." With that, he turned around to face the bar once more.

A large, balding gentleman, who sat upon the next stool, had observed the scene. He chuckled inwardly and brought his cup of mead to rest at his lips.

"Something funny?"

The man looked over, arching a thick, greying brow. "As a matter of fact, yea."

"Care to explain?"

Shifting in his seat, the eavesdropper menacingly leaned forward. "Listen, all I was thinkin' was about an old tale my brothers used to tell me." He smugly smiled. "You're probably too young to remember.. but did your mommy ever tell ya about the Olympian pantheon?"

Scrutinizing the sun-enhanced laugh-lines of the older man's face, the younger smirked. "Well, it's not so much a secret. At least not in educated areas." He crossed his gauntleted arms, shrugged and grinned. "Of course I know about the Olympians."

"Did you just insult me? Cos I'm drunk... and if you did, I don't know if I'd be pickin' up on it right now." The burly man grinned through an ale-foam moustache. Despite his intimidating stature, he seemed to be rather friendly, if not just a bit rude. "By the way... m'name's Gregor-ee. What's yours?"

"Nice to meet you, Gregory. You can call me Xar." The two men clasped gauntlets and stiffly shook.

"Greetings."

"So, Gregory, what was it about the Olympians that you wanted to tell me?"

He looked lost for a minute, but then bobbed his head. "Oh yeaaaaaa... Well, seeing you be all kind and whatnot reminded me of that Warrior Princess. She was always doin' nice stuff like that. Anyway, thinkin' of her reminded me of Ares- y'know--war himself. The rumors go that he gave up his status to save her from Athena."

Gregory stopped momentarily to take another swig of mead. Satisfied, he wiped his mouth on his tattered, green, cotton sleeve and continued, "But, see after that... no one knew what became of Ares. Some say he's out there somewhere, just waitin' for the day he can reclaim his station on Olympus."

Xar shook his head. "Well, my friend, you told some of the tale correctly. See, Ares did save Xena, by relinquishing his powers." As he began to relate the truth of the infamous rumors surrounding the disappearance of Ares, the young's man face was drawn earnestly. "He loved her more than anything else in the world. No matter how long he was in existence, he knew that... without her... he'd never be whole. So, he saved her from Athena and that was pretty much the end of Olympus."

"Righto, that's what I told ya--so what did he do then?"

Xar leaned against the bar and stared off into, seemingly, nothing. "Well, Ares was mortal and determined to prove to Xena just how much he loved her. Which he, eventually, did. Together, they traveled the countryside, eradicating injustice. But, as with all mortals, they eventually grew old..."

Gregory looked down and the light of a nearby oil lamp danced upon his balding head. "Yeah. Tell me 'bout it. I'm startin' to go grey myself. I blame the wife."

Xar hadn't heard the joke, for his eyes were still set inward--on his tale--like he was picturing it in his mind. "Xena could no longer fight and Ares took care of her. He did everything to make sure that she was never in any distress. Now, no one really knows what happened after that... but they were found in a lover's embrace beneath a most beautiful tree. It was apparent that the Warrior Princess had passed on due to her years. He, too, was elderly, but for them both to pass at the same time... well, it was just quite remarkable."

"Ye-ah, I would say so!"

"I know the gentleman who found them...quite well... He told me that it was clear that Xena had passed on first, for Ares was cradling her in his arms, streaks of dried tears lining his face. They say that war succumbed to a broken heart- that their bond was so strong that he couldn't be without her."

Gregory raised a brow. "There wasn't any markin's on his body? Perhaps he done himself in." He stopped a briefly, then spoke up again, just as Xar was about to respond. "Er--- what about poison? That wouldn't leave a mark."

"There were no marks and nothing suspicious---except one, odd thing..."

"Ye-ah?"

"Within their home, a fire was burning brightly. That same fire still burns brightly to this day. Infact, I'm on my way to go see it. People across the land are calling it the 'immortal flame'."

Gregory's bottom lip dropped. The fact that his interests were piqued was apparent. "So, how do ya know so much about this stuff?"

Xar shrugged. "My father told me. It happened a few years before I was born."

"Did your dad know em," the older man asked, holding back a burp.

Looking out the swinging doors of the tavern, it appeared that the storm had let up. Taking this into consideration, he answered, somewhat absentmindedly, "Lets just say he was close to them. Infact, he was on his way to see them when it happened."

Gregory swayed his head. "Musta been rough--not bein' able to say goodbye."

"At first he was upset that he missed them, but he knows that they're together on the other side...and that, one day, he'll see them again." Xar grinned, "He often says that good-byes aren't necessary, because we never truly leave one another."

Gregory simply nodded, taking another swig of mead. Xar tapped his fingers upon the counter, looking around as he did so. The barkeep was no where to be seen now. At this point, the young man was considering setting up camp instead.

"So...what about that fire? It's still burnin' in their home? What did ya call it?"

"The 'immortal flame'. And yes, it still burns to this day."

"What could make something do that?"

Xar began to stand and gather his things. It was apparent that the barkeep wasn't going to be attending to him anytime soon. With one hand on the counter, the other at the stool, he merely smiled. "I really don't know." Moving to leave, he slapped Gregory on the shoulder and joked, "Perhaps ambrosia."

~ The End ~