Tabula Rasa
by Taleen

Gabrielle stood knee deep in the water, head cocked, listening, as she waited in utter stillness for an unwary fish. Xena lay on the bank, supporting herself on her elbows and smiling fondly at the Bard. Her friend had come a long way from the inexperienced teenager who'd followed her out of that faraway village. Although Xena missed it sometimes—her fingers still twitched occasionally—the Chakram looked right hanging from Gabrielle's hip. She'd earned it.

The Warrior Princess sensed a presence but didn't move; seconds later Ares sat down beside her on the grass and rested his arms across his knees. He seemed doubtful of his welcome and didn't look at her, staring out at Gabrielle instead. His demeanor puzzled her. This man—God—had pulled her from Akemi's grasp—without him she might not be alive. She examined his profile, tempered her curiosity with patience and waited for him to speak.

"Come a long way, hasn't she?" he said, nodding as the second fish flopped on the shore. Gradually their frantic movements became more sporadic as they expired.

"I was just thinking that. Are you reading my mind again?"

"No. I wouldn't do that."

Skeptical silence.

Ares drew his brows together. "A dream is a dream, okay? Not the same thing."

He jerked his chin at the Bard. "You gonna tell her?"

"Tell her? No. Then she'd get cocky and get herself killed."

"She's become a warrior in her own right. I think you underestimate her, Xena."

"And you care?"

"Not particularly. But you do." He lifted his eyes up to the sky. He still hadn't looked directly at her. "So. That makes her part of the package."

"What package? A threesome?"

Ares turned his head and glared at her, then seemed to think about it…

She shook her head in exasperation. "Never in a billion years, Ares."

He shrugged, reached out to his other side and swept up a handful of daisies, twisting them between his hands. Xena eyed him warily, frowning a little. What is he after this time? Ares was acting completely out of character, as if he needed something from her, didn't know how to approach her, the wrong approach would be disastrous, and it was really, really important that she say 'Yes'.

"Why did you trust Akemi?"

The question startled and unsettled her. " I don't know. I shouldn't have. She betrayed me before."

"And leopards can't change their spots."

"Not in my experience."

"Might happen," he murmured. "In the right circumstances. For the right woman."

"What do you want from me, Ares?"

He turned his head and looked her full in the face. "You know the answer to that." When she didn't respond he glanced away, biting his lip, hiding the resignation in his eyes. "The grass is really green, isn't it?"

What the…? Xena raised her eyebrows at the nonsequitur. "Ares, why are you being so—pastoral?"

"I have lots of time now to think, Olympus being so empty and all." He'd been unable to resist the little dig, but instantly realized his mistake when her eyes hardened.

"So now you have agricultural interests? How does Demeter feel about that?"

"She's a tad overworked," he held up thumb and forefinger an inch apart and snapped, "since she's had to cover arts and crafts and hunting as well as her own stuff." He clenched his jaw and looked away.

"Maybe you should take the hunting part. Better fit with War." Xena replied sharply, then shut her eyes and tried to calm herself. Breathe. Breathe.

Gabrielle tossed another of her catch at the bank. It sailed close enough for him to snatch it out of the air and look at it with distaste.

"Mortal lives are so short." He turned it over—how many of these had he eaten and been thankful for? Fish and chicken and a few pathetic vegetables—how good they had tasted, back when he was starving. Ambrosia sustained him now; he'd have happily dined on lesser fare for the rest of his life if only she'd…

"I remember—back at the farm—every time I heard hooves on the road… the jangling of harness… my mouth would go dry and my heart would start to pound. Was it you? Had you come back for me? But no. Never happened."

If he's trying to make me feel guilty…

Snorting, he pitched the fish back on the pile. "Usually it was traveling salesmen—did it look like I had money to buy anything? But sometimes I'd see a happy young couple starting out to make a life for themselves and I thought… well, never mind what I thought."

…It's working. Perhaps I have been selfish…

Ares rubbed his eyes and ran his hands through his short-cropped black hair—no grey in it now. "Most often it was that yappy neighbor woman. She near drove me nuts." He cast his eyes sideways. "You know I prefer the strong silent type."

She curled her lip at him. He was getting to her, and she couldn't let him see it.

The War God stared out at the water again. Gabrielle, seeing that they had company, had caught enough fish for three. Pleased with her success and brimming with self-confidence, she strode out of the water, stood over Ares and waited for him to look up. "You know, you could clean those while I get the firewood."

He made a noncommittal grunt and waved his hand. Instantly the fish were scaled, gutted, filleted, and already half-cooked over a crackling fire, with plates stacked ready at the side.

"Well that's handy," she muttered. Xena made a shooing motion with her eyes and chin; Gabrielle pressed her lips together and took the hint. "Guess I'll go check on the horses…"

Ares waited until the Bard was out of earshot before he spoke again. "Ever wonder where dead gods go, Xena?" He mused, "Of course, she's not technically dead…"

Xena sat up abruptly. "Ares, what do you want?"

He took a minute to answer. "I want you to help me save Hera."

"Hera? What do you mean 'save'? She's alive? I thought Zeus…"

"Nope. She's alive."

"Why do you need me?"

He sighed heavily. "Because my powers won't work in the Pit of Tartarus."

"She's in Tartarus." Xena rose to her feet, paced away and spun around. "Let me get this straight. You want me—us—to help you get her out—after all she's done to ruin peoples' lives? What about Hercules and his family?" She flailed her hand angrily. "Not to mention others…"

"And who do you think helped your precious Hercules kill Zeus? Hmmn?"

It was a telling point. Xena tightened her mouth. "You're saying—she's changed."

Ares stared up at her. "Haven't we all? Change has been forced upon us." He threw down the remnants of the plants he'd been absentmindedly manipulating. Standing up, he stepped close to her and touched her cheek. "All I wanted, when I finally figured it out, was to love you, and win your love in return."

She willed herself not to respond.

"Well," he shrugged. "Guess that's not gonna happen." He looked down at the ground. "She's my mother. We didn't exactly get along for the last few millennia but… I want her back."

"Ares, I'm sorry your family died. But I had to protect Eve. You know that."

"And you wouldn't take my help."

"There were always strings, Ares." She gazed at him sorrowfully. "Except at the end, when it was already too late for the others."

"Bad timing on my part." He shook his head ruefully. "Bad for them, bad for… us." He didn't wait for an answer; blue light splintered around him and he was gone.

Xena stared at empty space for a moment; then glanced down at the shreds of greenery he'd dropped. She saw with astonishment that it was an intricately woven crown of daisies. A girlish impulse made her pick it up and settle it on her dark hair.

"Xena? Where's Ares…?" Gabrielle, returning with more firewood, paused and cocked her head up at her taller friend. "He gave you flowers?"

Thoroughly embarrassed, the Warrior Princess snatched the crown from her head.

"He didn't give them to me. He… left them... " She squatted down and reached for a plate. "Let's see what kind of a cook he is, shall we? They look delicious," as she speared one with her knife.

Gabrielle opened and shut her mouth—finally she decided the most diplomatic course might be to keep her thoughts about Ares and… flowers… to herself for the time being. She accepted her share and blew on it to cool it off.

"Hmmn," she nodded, after her first bite, "They are delicious. You know what? Maybe Ares could open the Olympian Bar and Grill… he could cook, you could wash dishes, I'd wait on the customers. I could read my scrolls and deliver platters while performing a little dance number… " She fell over giggling as Xena threw a fake punch at her. "Or alternately you could drag them in kicking and screaming… "

"It's an idea, Gabrielle." Xena tried to look solemn and failed miserably, cracking up as another thought occurred to her. "I wonder if Falafel is still around…"

They had fine traveling weather for another two days.

Xena, obviously preoccupied, murmured only vague responses to the Bard's occasional conversational forays. Something was on her mind, something she would talk about when she had it worked out. It was wisest not to press her, especially if it had anything to do with Ares.

Gabrielle had convinced Xena to head to Athens—she wanted to see if her friend Homer was still around, and if he'd ever written that epic about the Trojan War...

Camp that night was near a bend in the same small river but Gabrielle wasn't fishing. Tonight's menu was quail on a spit, with a few handfuls of berries they'd collected along the trail.

Xena waited until Gabrielle had gone to the stream to wash up before digging in her saddlebag. She found what she was looking for hidden at the bottom and pulled it out, letting the entwined blossoms drape over her fingers. Funny, they were still fresh and crisp. When had any man ever given her flowers? Of course, she corrected herself, he hadn't actually offered them to her, merely left them behind… but could it be an unconscious testament of his feelings, truer even than words, that he'd held these blossoms in his hands and not shredded them? She'd been a warrior for two-thirds of her life—men hadn't courted her with flowers—a nice sword was more to her taste, or… a Chakram, Ares' last gift.

No, not his last gift. His last gift had been life—hers, her daughter's and Gabrielle's, given without expectation, and then hers again when he'd torn her from Akemi's ghostly grasp. She'd "died" for him in the fight with the Furies, hidden him on the farm, shielded him from nosy intruders, given him back his immortality… was it enough? Was her debt to him paid?

Good question. Should she even think of it as a debt, as an IOU with debits and credits, or consider the slate wiped clean? She and Ares—starting fresh, face to face, equal.

She remembered the alteration in his attitude—asking, not demanding. His voice was softer, his face showing his uncertainty. The arrogance she expected had disappeared. She remembered the sweetness of their last kiss when he was still mortal, on top of the hill overlooking the Amazon lands. She'd had to walk away. He was bad for her, she'd convinced herself of that. But was she right? Maybe… if he could change so much for love, she could go halfway.

He said he loved her. Hadn't he proven it? He was a God who'd given up everything for a mortal woman—for her, and it made her feel scared and vulnerable in ways she hardly understood, and it no longer had anything to do with darkness and redemption and loss of herself. It was a matter between man and woman, her heart and whether she could give any part of it to him. Finally, it was a matter of trust. Could she trust him?

She began to pluck petals, playing a variation of the old game. I trust him I trust him not…

Gabrielle tripped over a stone on the path, her under-the-breath curse clearly audible to Xena's sensitive hearing. Hastily she tucked the flowers away, brushing away the loose petals from her clothing before the Bard arrived.

She'd come to a decision of sorts. There were things she had to do. And she had to talk to Gabrielle.

Four days later. Athens was only a day and a half away. They followed a trail along the cliff, narrow and twisty, with no choice but to dismount and lead their horses. It was colder at this height; they huddled in their coats, breath puffing in little plumes in the air. Ice pellets formed in their hair and knotted in the horses' manes and tails. It would have taken two weeks to go around by the low road; they'd tossed a dinar, come up tails and committed themselves to the shortest route. It might have been a mistake.

Gabrielle was unusually untalkative, still mulling over the pros and cons of their campfire discussion from the last three nights. They'd discussed Xena's plan upside down and sideways, inside out and rightside back, until they both had felt as comfortable with it as possible, under the circumstances. It pleased her that Xena treated her like a full partner instead of a sidekick But there was something else that they hadn't discussed and Gabrielle pondered that—what if Xena's instincts about Ares were correct? What if the Fates had deliberately interwoven the Warrior Princess' destiny with the War God's? Perhaps there was a good and sound reason for it. Perhaps Gabrielle wasn't Xena's only soulmate. Or perhaps… and this was a new thought to her, it wasn't just Xena's redemption involved here…

It was a conundrum only time could resolve.

The Bard brought her focus back to the ground underfoot. Gods, she'd been careless! "Xena, we should be care---ahhhhh!" She jerked back as her foot slipped but her body swayed and she overbalanced. The rottenstone lip disintegrated and pitched her over the rim. Her fingers scrabbled in the dirt and failed to find a hold, and with a lingering scream she dropped out of sight. It all happened in the space of a breath.

"Gabrielle!" Horrified, Xena scrambled past her friend's horse—dammit, get out of the way, you stupid animal!—and fell to her knees at the brink. Craning her neck she saw with relief that the Bard had managed to grab a shrub-root a few feet below.

"Gabrielle, hold on! I'll get you!" She stretched out on her belly and reached down, her fingers barely touching the Bard's. She inched further forward until her entire upper body hung down, and almost had her wrist…

"Hurry, Xena! This is gonna let go!" The small blonde's face was scrunched up with fear.

"I'll get a rope!"

"There's no time!" Prophetically, the rock under Gabrielle's toes spit bits of itself at the base of the ravine, then gave way under the weight of the stranded warrior. She tried to dig in with her fingers and toes, but here the cliff wall was too hard.

The shrub's precarious roothold tore away and Gabrielle fell, sliding and scraping on the rockface…

"Gabrielle! Noooooo!" Xena screamed, and a flash of blue light nearly blinded her, obliterating her view. When she could see again Gabrielle had been dumped on the ground beside her and Ares was nonchalantly brushing specks of dirt from his shoulders. Xena wrapped her arms around her dear friend, peering into her eyes, rubbing her limbs, checking anxiously for injuries.

"I'm alright, I'm alright." The Bard whispered shakily, trying to catch her breath. "Just a little bruised."

"Yup, that'll leave a mark."

Xena shot an impatient glare at the War God's flippancy. Gabrielle let her head fall against Xena's shoulder and the dark-haired warrior reminded herself that it was only thanks to Ares that her best friend wasn't a flatbread on the rocks below. She softened her expression.

Gabrielle coughed and swiped a grimy hand across her face. "Ares, you keep saving my life."

"You keep needing to be saved, " he shrugged, then glanced at Xena. "You should watch your step. These mountains are a notorious death trap. Everyone knows that."

"Had a lot on our minds, I guess."

"What? No witty repartee?"

For answer Xena stroked her friend's face and hugged her. "No," she said to Ares as she smiled tenderly at the Bard, "Not this time."

"Chalk up another first," he grunted, licking his finger and marking the air. He looked around, blasted a wider, safer ledge and sat down, patting the rock beside him.

Xena helped Gabrielle hobble over to the seat. Ares looked a bit put out; he would have preferred it if Xena had sat beside him, but she set out for Argo and her medicine kit. When she returned she knelt at Gabrielle's feet and began washing the dirt from her many cuts and scrapes and applying ointment. His forehead smoothed; he seemed content to watch her work.

"Why are you here, Ares?"

"I was needed. Wasn't I?"

Xena and Gabrielle exchanged glances. Xena looked up at him and said, "You did a good thing, Ares. I won't forget."

"Hmmn. Have you considered my request? About Mom—er—Hera?"

"Yes I have. And I think I know how it can be done."

"You're going to do it?"

"Full of surprises, aren't I?" She gave him a sweet smile and he sat back, bemused.

"How?"

"We stopped for supplies in the last town. I found a seamstress and had her make up a piece of heavy silk with little handles attached, plus I bought all the corded ladders the shopkeeper had. We're going to jump into Tartarus."

"We're going to jump into Tartarus?" Ares repeated, with a dubious expression. "That's your plan?"

"The silk is six-layered and extra strong. It should support the three of us."

"Three of us?"

"Me—you—and Gabrielle."

He raised his brow.

"She has the Chakram. And remember what you said at the river."

Gabrielle raised her head. "Xena? What did Ares say about me?"

"It was… complimentary, Gabrielle."

It was the Bard's turn to look surprised. "Oh."

Ares frowned at her. "It was nothing." He turned his gaze back to his beloved. "So when do we start?"

"As soon as Gabrielle is feeling better."

"Let's go right now, Xena. I'm okay, really. Nothing's broken. Let's go before we lose our nerve." She caught Ares' affronted look and mollified him. "Well, it is Tartarus…"

He had to agree.

Xena spoke up. "We could use a lift to the Pit, if you want to go through with this."

"Xena, I should mention—it could be a bit more difficult than you expect. There are nasties down there."

"Nastier than you?"

"Funny, honey." He made a face at her. "But yeah. And nastier than you, I might add."

"How can you be so sure?"

"What was I thinking?" He slapped his forehead. "Tartarus, look out. Time to batten down the hatches and unfurl the white flags… the Warrior Princess is coming at ya!"

Ares brought them to the edge of the Abyss. He peered over the edge; vertigo, or perhaps fear of what was down there, made him turn an interesting shade of green and move back hurriedly. Xena grinned at him as she bound the cords of the chute securely around her waist, running her fingers over the knots again and again, checking and rechecking the rigging. Big bad God of War, scared of a little Tartarus. Then she frowned as a low howl emanated from the depths. If the War God was afraid, maybe there was good reason… but she couldn't let him, or Gabrielle, see her misgivings at this point.

"We're just gonna—step off into the air?" he asked.

"Yup." Five minutes later, satisfied with her arrangements, she said, "Is the ladder secure?"

Ares finished embedding one end of the corded ladder in the raw stone, using his power to melt the rock securely around the frayed ends. He would not be trapped down there due to his own incompetence. He threw the other end into the abyss. "It is now."

"Good. We're ready then. Ares, you 're behind me."

"Whatever position you prefer, my dear," he grinned. Perhaps a little bravado would take his mind off the next few minutes.

She rolled her eyes at him and stepped to the edge. "Gabrielle, hold on tight. On three. One. And… Eurydiceeeeee!"

"You didn't count to threeeeeeeee—" Ares' voice, muffled, complained in her ear.

"Gee, doesn't it come after one?" she shouted back. "Never could get that straight…."

The War God shut his eyes and tightened his grip as they plummeted down into the blackness, lit by occasional scorching flames, that was Tartarus.

They landed in the dark with a thump, staggering a bit to keep their balance. The silk billowed and rippled around them as they struggled to fight themselves free. Finally Gabrielle tore it open with the edge of her Chakram and Xena bundled up the cloth and threw it in a corner.

Ares had said "nasties"; he hadn't warned her about the rolling tides of depression and despair that immediately enveloped them. She began to worry, wondering if they were strong enough to withstand it, then worried that Tartarus was making her doubt herself. The Pit seemed a living thing, beating at them, throbbing against their skin, spiking into their skulls as it greedily strove to add still more victims to its roster. Incessant screaming seemed to come at them from all quarters, howls and shrieks and moans adding to the orchestra. And it stunk with the eye-watering rankness of an open latrine.

Xena clenched her jaw. They could beat this. They had to, or be trapped here forever.

"Gabrielle, Ares… we have no time to spare—if we can't find Hera quickly we'll have to leave without her—there'll be no second chance."

"It's bad, isn't it, Xena?" Gabrielle murmured.

"Yeah, it's bad. If we stay here long enough—I'm afraid we won't have the strength to leave." She looked about and chose a direction. "Come on. Let's try that way. Ares? Are you coming?"

"Not even breathing hard," he joked weakly.

The Warrior Princess snorted and led the way toward the firelight, Gabrielle close on her heels. Shadows reflected eerily off the walls, adding to the oppressive aura of the place.

Ares loped up beside her, the whites of his eyes showing, his shoulders hunched against the terror—Xena realized he was sweating—she'd never seen him sweat, and it drove home to her that Tartarus would be worse for Gods than men—their powers, that they'd always taken for granted, stripped from them, leaving them forever helpless. She began to understand just how hard this enterprise was for him, and to sympathize with his desire to get his mother out.

"Hey," she stopped and gripped his shoulder, "we'll find her. It'll be okay."

"Think Hera will recognize you?" Gabrielle asked, "I remember Hercules said that last time she'd lost her memory… "

"She hasn't been down here as long. And," he growled through his nausea, "don't bring up that bastard's name again." He may not have tried to kill his brother recently, but he still didn't need to be reminded of his existence.

Amorphous figures swooped at them and away, trailing blackness in long tails behind. Xena was pretty sure she recognized some of them—Caligula, Agathon, Darphus, and was that Caesar? But they moved too fast for her to be certain.

A woman's figure came at her, ghostly voice taunting her. "Well, well, Xeeeee-naaaaaa. Can't ask Ares for help, noooooo, but he can ask youuuuu…. Is that fairrrrrrr, Xeeeee-naaaaaa?" Mavican dissolved in front of her, madness a torrent buffeting her revenant away into the darkness.

"My game, Mavican, " Ares yelled after her. "My rules…" he looked around warily. And they don't apply down here.

Xena made note of his disturbance. So Mavican had perished in that cave. A hardness in Xena's center said good riddance—Gabrielle had nearly died at that woman's hands. Mavican's ego and ambition had been the death of her. Xena couldn't put all the blame on Ares.

It occurred to her to wonder if any of the Gods she'd killed were down here. Was there a threat from that quarter? Celesta and Charon had taken over in Hades since its master's demise (Warty whining Charon, lording over all—the thought made her shake her head); but surely the others were there too… They were Gods, bred to be what they were, not mortals who'd chosen evil. Not even Discord, spoiled brat that she had been, belonged here. But if they were here…unless they tripped over them there was no time to look. Pity. She would have liked to save Hephaestus, if possible, for Aphrodite's sake.

Unseen creatures clicked and scuttled on the floor and occasionally came too close, running over toes. Ares jumped back, cursing and kicking.

Flames shot up from the floor and flickered over the rat's bodies: multi-headed, with extra legs and tails, but still recognizably rats.

"Xena, there are snakes here. And bugs. And spiders," Gabrielle grumbled.

"I thought you liked spiders?"

"No, that was you and Eve."

"Nothing wrong with spiders, Gabrielle. They eat bugs. And the snakes probably eat the rats."

"The one I just saw could eat a horse, Xena. And I'll bet we're gonna run into more dead people."

"I'm sure every enemy we ever had is here somewhere. Part of the charm of the place."

"The ambience… "

"Something like that."

"Gabrielle?" Ares interrupted, tapping the Bard on the shoulder and casting his glance backward, "Was it a snake you saw, or a Hydra?"

Three pink veined necks with frilled heads arched above them.

"What is it you Gods have with multiple heads? You get a quantity discount or something?" Xena snarled through gritted teeth. A quick thought darted through her mind—by the gods if that isn't a phallic symbol I don't know what is—good thing I don't blush.

"More the merrier?" Ares answered sheepishly.

She squashed the sexual images and shook her head. "Yeah, right. How do we fight this?"

He stepped in front of her, grabbed her swordarm as she made to swing, and held her eyes, "All I know is, don't cut off its heads. It'll only grow more."

Beside them Gabrielle lowered her Chakram and cast her eyes around. "Iolaus said, 'Fire.' He and … Hercules," she glanced at Ares, and smiled as he grimaced, "fought it with fire." She began hunting for flammables in the murk.

"Gabrielle, there's nothing here that will burn."

"Unless… " Ares glanced up, "there seem to be a lot of vines hanging overhead…"

Xena turned her gaze to the ceiling, leapt ten feet straight up with minimal effort and snagged a handful of leathery plants, yanking them down with her. She fell back against Ares, whose arms automatically went around her to steady her. It felt good. Too good.

She frowned and shoved him away. "No time for a free feel, Ares. We need to find some fire. Is your power…?"

He made a fist and got only a feeble glow. Embarrassed, he looked away.

"Nevermind. There's always a first time, even for a god." Immediately she regretted her words as uncalled for. He was trying—and he'd shown a helluva lot of courage coming down here under these conditions. She vowed to give him the benefit of the doubt from now on, but before she could apologize the Bard interrupted.

"Uh, Xena," Gabrielle said as she ducked away from one swaying head, "We could use a miracle right about now."

Surprisingly, Tartarus itself provided one. A firespout blew up in front of them without warning, so close it nearly singed their eyebrows. Xena hurriedly threw the ends of the vines in it, and as flames ran along them she twirled them above her head and flung. Each one coiled around a thick neck; she pulled them tight, throttling the creature with fire. The Hydra hissed as the fire rapidly burned through its hide. The heads fell to the ground, the neck stumps blackened and cauterized, and the torso flopped over in a shivering nerve-wracked heap.

"Heads we win, tails you lose," Ares quipped, standing with one foot on the smoldering corpse, mighty-hunter-style.

"Ares… " Gabrielle groaned and exchanged a smile with Xena, "if you were thinking of doing a comedy act—don't quit your day job."

"Everyone's a critic," he muttered as they set off down the path.

Sick green liquids dripped off ledges and oozed down the walls. Each foot had to be placed carefully lest they step on or in unidentifiable grossness…

"Xena," Ares whispered urgently. "I need you to promise me something."

The Warrior Princess raised her brow. Now what?

"Promise me, if it looks like we're not getting out, you'll kill me."

"Ares, I can't kill… "

"A clean cut, Xena. Warrior to warrior. It's the only way… I don't want to spend Eternity suffering…"

"But wouldn't you be stuck here then?"

"No, I'd go to Hades, probably. Or the Elysian Fields…"

Xena arched a brow. "Elysium? You think you've atoned enough for Elysium?"

"Maybe." He blinked. "I saved you and her and Liv—Eve—wouldn't that count? Celesta would let me in. Wouldn't she?"

"Ares—" she stopped and grabbed his arm, "Are you mortal down here?"

"Might as well be…" he muttered. "No powers…"

"You're scared!"

He squeezed his eyes shut, then slowly, reluctantly, opened them. "Damn right." He shuddered as a thing darted past him. "Look, when we’re young… " He started again. "Godlings are disciplined with threats of … this place. Our Bogeyman, if you will. You never entirely shake free of it. But mortals are born to suffering. Gods aren't. Promise me!"

"It won't come to that, Ares. That, I'll promise you. Now come on."

Corridors intersected with their path every few yards. Was Tartarus the pattern for Minos' labyrinth? A feminine scream reverberated through the passageway, coming from their right. All three exchanged glances and with one mind set off in that direction. Rounding a corner brought them to the sight of a woman trapped against the wall by an enormous hairy beast.

Bluegreen satins and a tattered peacock feather collar identified the stricken female. Hera's mouth stretched in a rictus of terror and her eyeballs rolled back in her head like a maddened mare's. The monster's extraordinarily long fingers reached for her; she threw up her hands and screamed again as one jagged fingernail brushed her cheek.

Thick yellow drool oozed from the corner of its mouth. Was it going to eat her? Or kiss her?

Gabrielle's Chakram zinged off the wall and lopped off one of its digits.

The creature howled, refocused its attention and lurched toward them.

Ares froze. Xena shuttled her gaze back and forth between him and the monster— her Olympian companion's subsequent verification of the being's identity turned her blood to ice.

"Cronos."

Cronos, grandfather to the War God, was quite obviously no longer sentient—he—it—had been in the Pit for countless millennia; all intelligence had dissolved to the lowest level, brute animal instinct.

Xena immediately went on the attack, yelling her battlecry as she flipped up into the air, landed on its shoulders, drew her blade across its throat and flipped again to the floor behind it. Its hide was too thick; the blade left hardly a mark.

Gabrielle caught her Chakram and ducked between the beast's legs, going for a low blow. It howled louder and clutched its deformed parts.

Gabrielle glanced over at a shocked Xena and shrugged. "Sometimes ya gotta fight dirty." She turned toward Hera and yelled, "We're here to get you free! Get ready to run!"

"Who are you?"

"We'll explain later. There's no time for questions. Run!"

The former Queen of the Gods nodded and hiked up her skirts, the bluegreen satins glimmering in the light of Tartarus' many spontaneous fires. She stopped at sight of her son, looking bewildered. "I think I know him—"

"Run now, while its back is turned!"

Hera stumbled away, leaning heavily on the Warrior Princess. Xena looked back over her shoulder. Where is Ares?

The Elder God had fixed tiny weak eyes on Ares and stretched out its hands. Ares hadn't budged, still rooted to the floor, his face a mask of horror and revulsion.

"Gramps?"

"Ares, move!" Gabrielle threw her Chakram again, and the whoosh brought the War God to his senses. He dodged aside as the lumbering behemoth took a swing at him.

Xena shoved Hera toward the path and ran around the huge legs. She snapped out her whip and snagged an ankle. Cronos, still intent on the younger Olympian, barely paused. Annoyed, The Warrior Princess flicked her whip at the monstrous face, hoping to take out an eye, and yelled,  "Hera! Now! Go!"

Hera kicked off her high-heeled shoes and limped past as Gabrielle caught the Chakram and flung it again. Xena pushed Ares down the path after his mother.

"Gabrielle! Come on! Let's get out of here!"

Ares lagged behind; he found running on rough ground exhausting, especially since he was not used to running at all. He was sure he could feel Cronos practically breathing down his neck, even though it was a hundred yards behind. He had no breath left, he had a stitch in his side… he staggered to a halt. What was the use? Turn and face the monster.

Xena grabbed his arm and dragged him to the base of the cliff, where he stood with head hung and sides heaving, blowing like an old nag. Gabrielle, in the meantime, frantically helped Hera rip off her skirts to free her legs for climbing.

The Bard started up the ladder, followed by the Goddess. Xena went next and had made a few yards' progress before she discovered that Ares wasn't behind her.

"Ares, aren't you coming?"

No joking now. "Why?" he moaned. "You don't need me. The people up there don't need me. Maybe I'll stay here and keep Gramps company." Embrace him, become him. It was what he deserved…

"Ares, what's the matter?" but she knew the answer—the Pit 's miasma of depression was so dark that it was affecting him; seeing the devolvement of his grandfather hadn't helped. She knew she had to get him out even as she felt the tread of insanity creeping toward her.

"I'm sorry, alright?" Ares cried out, his voice hollow with hopelessness, trailing off into misery and desolation. "For everything I've ever done to make you hate me… "

His pure anguish made her heart contract. "Ares, I don't hate you." She dropped back to the ground, went to him and stroked his cheek, over and over, until he caught her wrist. "I… I don't know what I feel, but it's not hate."

He shut his eyes and pressed his lips against the center of her palm, drawing on her strength to regain his sanity. "Thank you."

Her eyes softening, she raised her other hand and slapped him.

"Now get your butt up that ladder. I'm not done with you yet." She ignored his stunned expression and shoved him toward the wall. The cords vibrated in her hand as she grabbed them; she frowned, hauled herself up and reached down to the God of War. "Come on, Ares. Hurry up. Get the lead out."

He put a foot to the bottom rung.

The four were a dozen yards up the ladder when Cronos shuffled into sight. It cast its shortsighted eyes about ("Freeze, Xena ordered) scanning for movement. After a moment it shambled away; everyone heaved a sigh of relief.

"Poor Gramps, "Ares whispered and proceeded to climb.

At first it seemed there would be no end and they would be climbing forever. But more than halfway up the atmosphere began to lighten. Despair dissolved, leaving their spirits more buoyant. She felt Ares stop on the ladder and looked down at him, trying to gauge what was wrong now. He gazed back at her, a lazy grin on his face.

Why the lousy… "Are you looking up my skirt?" she snarled.

He shrugged and winked. "Just enjoying the view."

Back to himself already. She grinned back. "If all you want is a view—"

He moved after her with alacrity and she had to hustle herself to keep ahead of him. They were laughing when they reached the top, a touch of hysteria no doubt, holdover from the Pit, but certainly with thankfulness at attaining safety.

Gabrielle reached out a hand to help her up. Hera knelt to the side, her knees muddy and scraped, her hands spread out before her and sides heaving from the unaccustomed effort. Ares popped up over the ledge and flopped onto the stone. She raised her head and looked at her son with puzzled eyes.

He flexed his fingers, testing himself; a blue glow made his fingers translucent. "Oh yeah," he gloated, "I'm back!" and tossed the singeing ball of lightning into the Pit. From the depths something shrieked. He looked down over the edge and joked to cover his relief at getting out of that hellish place. "Oops. Did I just kill Time?" There was some barely discernible movement at the bottom "Naw, just set it back a bit."

"Ares," Hera whispered hoarsely, recognizing him at last, "Why? Why did you come after me?"

He sobered instantly and sat back on his heels, glancing around the cave, looking at everything except her. Finally he swallowed and met her eyes, "Because there aren't many of us left. Because—you're my mother—" Softer feelings for a parent, especially one who'd never cared for him, were too uncomfortable for him to express out loud; he'd only recently come to terms with his love for the Warrior Princess. He jumped up and helped a thoughtful Hera to her feet, even going so far as to put his arm around her shoulders. "Are the others all dead?" she asked.

"I'll explain when we get home."

Starlight shattered around them; the two Gods of Olympus vanished into the ether.

"You're welcome, " Gabrielle called after them. "Humph. Didn't even thank us."

Gabrielle dropped the firewood and stared at the daisy crown in Xena's hand.

"It's been a couple of days. Have you heard from the Flowerchild of Olympus?"

"Gabrielle, that's not fair."

Her companion folded her arms across her chest. "You're defending him. Xena—you do love him, don't you?"

"Maybe," Xena muttered under her breath, her gaze concentrated on the flowers.

"What was that? I didn't hear you."

"I said, 'Maybe I do'. What of it?" Xena raised her head and scowled at the Bard.

"Well, I say—about time you admitted it." She grinned and punched her friend's arm, then frowned. "It's not gonna be easy."

The dark haired warrior rubbed her bicep and nodded. "Nothing with Ares ever is."

Xena swam lazily, her long arms and legs cleaving the water with barely a ripple. Overhead the sun's last rays lent a pinky-red glow to the mackerel sky. Languidly she rolled over onto her back, closed her eyes and floated.

She arched slightly, and her nipples broke the surface.

Without opening her eyes she spoke. "Are you enjoying the view again?"

"Oh yeah." Ares stood on the bank and gazed down at her, smiling dreamily with half-hooded eyes. Her body had taken on a greenish moonpale gleam under the water. He ached to touch her, to slide the thick wet points of her hair through his hands and spread it over her shoulders, to bend his head and bury his face in the hollows of her collarbones, and discover her other hollows…

Xena interrupted his reverie with a little reality check. "How's Hera?"

His smile faded. "Better. Still a little woozy. Twice in the Pit, not the vacation I'd choose." He dropped his eyes and rubbed a stone with his toe. "I… uh… thank you, Xena. You and… Gabrielle."

"Hmmmn. Glad to hear your mother's okay."

"You are?" he asked, surprised.

"Sure. After being there I wouldn't wish my worst enemy in Tartarus. Well, maybe my worst… "

"I'm not your enemy, Xena."

"I know that, Ares." She flipped over and swam away, casting a sultry glance back over her shoulder. It was time.

"Care to join me for a swim?"

"Join you?" his eyebrows rose. "Is that—an invitation?"

"It could be taken that way."

The Olympian gave himself a shake, stripped off his leathers with a wave of his hand and, stark naked, arrowed into the water. He rose up five feet ahead of her with a splash. His smile came and went, still not quite sure of her intent. Was she making a fool of him again? He gazed longingly at her beauty as he used his power to keep himself upright, the waterline at rib level--it was easily fifteen or twenty feet deep here in this secluded section of the lake.

"Xena, the water's freezing."

"It'll warm up after a minute."

"You could warm me up," he said hopefully, but she backstroked away. "Oh well." He allowed his body to glow, heating up the water in his immediate area until he felt comfortable.

"Ares… remember that question you asked me about Akemi? I think I figured it out."

"And… you're gonna tell me?"

"I was a poor judge of character back then."

He tilted his head. "Then?"

"Sometimes I still am."

He bit his lip and looked away.

She smiled, and drifted toward him. She stopped short and trod water. He couldn't help himself, like Orpheus, he had to look back and was riveted by her expression. She stared deep into his eyes, searching his soul for the spark of light in all that darkness, something she was sure she had seen before. A tiny flame waiting to be fanned…

"And sometimes I'm not."

With a mischievous glint in her eye she paddled closer, bent and tongued his nipple. Been here before, haven't we, Ares? He foundered backward, slapping the surface, and had almost recovered when her legs twined around his and full contact sent a shock wave though them both. His concentration broke as the shock of her fingers slipping down to stroke his testicles distracted him totally; he plunged to the bottom of the lake, dragging her with him. They trembled in the heat of his power in the frigid water and embraced each other tightly.

Double streams of air bubbles spiraled to the surface—she kissed him and he kissed her and neither had thought of breathing.

His power enclosed them before they could drown; they erupted out of the lake in an incandescent geyser that shot plumes of water everywhere, arching above the treetops, only dissipating as they drifted slowly to the ground.

Sparkling rivulets fled down over their bare skins as he settled her on the grassy bank. She could see the stars beginning to pop out overhead, smell the honeysuckle she'd crushed in her hair, and hear an owl's hoot, although godslight still surrounded them, giving them privacy from inadvertent intrusion, blonde or otherwise. It became a cocoon of safety that made them invisible to outside eyes.

She smiled encouragingly at him and lifted both her hands to his face. The kiss began sweet and deepened into exploration of each other's mouth. He drew away first.

"Lie still, Xena. Let me love you," he murmured. "Let me worship you." Her breasts plumped sideways and he bent his head, swirling his tongue briefly around each pink tip. Tentatively, praying it wasn't all just another fantasy, Ares began to caress her, his fingers leaving trails of lightning tingles all over her flesh.

It made her wonder. They'd waited for this night so long she had half expected a sudden savage mating. Instead he seemed determined to prolong every second of their first coming together.

He swept his hand down her side, pausing in the concavity between her hip and belly, his touch featherlight and raising gooseflesh wherever it rested. Her skin quivered and she ached for him to close in on her, but he went no further. Instead his warm fingers lovingly stroked her outer thighs and down her calves to her toes, increasing her rapture with every second. Was it his divinity? Could a human male make her feel this way? Or was it because he was simply… Ares. The man who loved her.

The stars swirled overhead and her body's need swirled with them, crying out for the inevitable. At last he climbed over her leg and knelt between her thighs. He was so close now and she could feel her own slickness; she let her legs slip open further. Still he seemed to ignore her hotspots, his every heated breath and tiniest exhalation brushing on her skin only increasing her frustration.

Xena reached down, tracing her fingers through his short thick hair. Rearing his head, he grinned at her, and her tongue circled her mouth in anticipation. If she meant to give him ideas… Ares wasn't ready to give her what she wanted, not yet.

Still kneeling, he slipped his hands under her bottom and pulled her up over his thighs to his groin, her long legs falling to either side of his hips. His cock jutted from the dark soft hair at its root; he grasped it and stroked its glistening rosy tip over her cleft, working his way slowly down. He parted those lips, found the little hood inside and rubbed that until she gasped and shook. He smiled at her flushed face as she came. Night after night he'd dreamed of this—of giving her such exquisite pleasure, of making her melt in his arms in total surrender…

But she wanted more—her body fairly screamed for him to fill her—he was here and now and still he denied her!

She lifted her torso up and braced herself on one hand. With the other she grabbed his shaft and slid her curled fingers up and down its length. Glaring at him she demanded, "Enough worship, Ares. Inside me. Now. Or I will kill you."

His teasing grin faded, to be replaced by a look of wonder. He dropped his eyes—he was poised at her entrance, nudging a little. Surely she wouldn't let it get this far if she didn't intend…

"No more games, Ares." She spread her knees as wide as they would go and undulated her hips up further. He pushed in and she ground her pelvis against him.

He fell forward onto his elbows, still in a state of euphoric disbelief until she clamped her inner muscles around him and truth struck home. He was, at last, inside the woman he loved. It was no dream.

He groaned and began to move deliberately in the ages-old dance of man and woman joining, until her fevered reaction and his own need drove him to speed up. Her hands scraped over his shoulder blades and cupped his ass, urging him on as he thrust harder, faster, deeper until it felt like he was pounding her into the ground and out the other side of the planet.

All his senses seemed to be exploding, his heart and brain nearly bursting, rising inexhorably to heaven's peak. A few scant seconds later he jerked and spasmed, his seed spurting into her depths; he collapsed on her body, shuddering, crying out his mantra over and over, "Xena I love you Xena I love you Xena I love you…"

"Shhh, Ares. I know." She could feel every soft hair of his chest and belly velvety against her skin as he gasped for breath; she inhaled his musky masculine scent and brushed a sweat-dampened strand away from his temple. "I love you too."

His body stilled. He raised himself to look in her eyes. "Xena? Did you say—?"

She had never seen such uncertainty, vulnerability, hope—call it what she will—on his face before. She pressed a fingertip against his mouth and, caught up like a child in the sparkling magic of her revelation, ran through the corridors of her mind, examining her unfolding emotions, turning them over and shaking them out.

He waited, holding his breath, certain she would cut out his heart yet again. But when she turned her thoughts back to him her blue eyes held such warmth as he had never seen directed his way.

"It's… true. Ares… I do love you."

"Xena…" He enfolded her in his arms and buried his face against her neck.

Eventually realization dawned on her—why he was shaking—and she lay there beneath him, cradling him and slowly stroking his back, awed by her power to make a War God weep.

End