Falling Upwards

For years I endured, but on one of those nights,
I rose and silently opened the window.
Holding on to the handrail of the rays of your light,
I did what I'd dreamed of for years and years:
I stepped into nothing.

Nautilus Pompilius, "She Who Runs Far Ahead"

The moment Ares entered the aether he knew he was trapped. The brilliant whiteness around him whirled upwards with a roar like a tornado, and for a single horrifying instant he thought he was going to die. He was spinning wildly, faster and faster, and the roar rose to a high-pitched scream on the very edge of his hearing, piercing his skull with pain so intense he saw see colours. His mind was a mess; he thought he heard voices in the sickening swirl of aether – it sounded like Athena's calm tones and Aphrodite's sniffles and Hera's tut-tutting – then, very clearly, he heard the tired heavy voice of his father say: "You are no longer my son."

And then, nothing.

The swirling stopped dead, as though the bottom had dropped out of the aether. Ares had a moment's sensation of weightlessness – then, without warning, something wide and green slammed him hard in the face. The ground.

Not this again...

Ares groaned, raising his head to spit out a mouthful of moss. Mortal again. What a damned surprise.

He clutched the nearest tree to hoist himself up. The world was swimming in and out of focus weirdly, and there was a ringing noise in his ears that did nothing good for his head. He climbed to his feet, then regretted it immediately: the ground lurched forward and he stumbled, catching himself just in time. If only his stomach would stop heaving! Instead it gave a shuddering spasm, jerked sideways... and to his horror, Ares retched loudly into the grass.

Beads of sweat broke over his forehead. Cursing, he stumbled backwards and spat to rid his mouth of the sour taste, fighting down the small waves of sickness in his gut. It felt like the last of his powers were being purged from him.

He stared down at the grass and dead brown leaves littering the forest floor. Everything had changed. Distant battles no longer tugged at his mind, no warriors vied for his attention; he could feel no sacrifices or prayers – forget prayers, he could barely feel his own body.

He was no longer a god. And he had only himself to thank for it.

Ares hauled himself over to a tree stump a little way away and dropped onto it, clutching his throbbing head.

It was enough to make any sane god wish for Tartarus. He actually felt some surprise that dear old dad had not sent him down there; Athena or Aphrodite must have managed to talk him out of it. Not that it mattered, seeing as Zeus had cut him off altogether. No more second chances for Ares. They'd even taken his sword from him; the absence of its weight at his hip was more upsetting than he cared to admit. Well, he'd been expecting this much. Didn't make the experience any more enjoyable.

He sat still for a while, until the various aches and pains in his newly-mortal body subsided enough that he could open his eyes without feeling like his head would explode from the light. Cautiously, Ares prodded his temples; his head gave a dull thud, but the worst was definitely over. He felt himself cheering a little. All right, so he was mortal – it wasn't the end of the world. Xena would come and find him, after she recovered from the shock of seeing Gabrielle alive and well, and hearing about the ambrosia...

Except that Xena had absolutely no idea where he was. And neither did he.

This worrying thought grew and grew, compounded by his headache and the sour dry feeling in his mouth that had to be thirst. He had to do something, find someone. Find Xena. What if he never saw her again? He hadn't thought of that.

After pacing uselessly around the small clearing where he'd sat, Ares began walking, with the vague idea of getting out of the forest and trying to get his bearings. Was it just his imagination, or did the trees look different? They seemed taller, their canopy higher, far away. Or was it just because he could no longer transport himself out of here? Surely not even his father – ex-father – would have thrown him out of the aether on the other side of the world. They wouldn't do that to him, surely.

But the longer he walked, the less certain he was of anything. What was he going to do if he did get out of the forest? Find Xena. But what then? Convince her to help him find some way to restore his godhood? Ares had to stop for a while, staring stupidly at the mossy green trunks of the ancient trees around him, listening to the mindless twitter of birds overhead. This was it. This was all he had now; there was no getting his godhood back, no ambrosia, no nothing. He was mortal, and forever cut off from Olympus and the others... No, not forever. There was no forever. Only until he was dead.

He started walking again, quickly, not looking around. There was no point thinking about it; he'd traded in his immortality and godhood and all the perks just to prevent one measly little death, the annoying blonde's – to give her back to Xena, because that was all he could do. Had it been worth it? Athena had thought him crazy, and maybe he was. But then... If he concentrated he could almost see Xena's face, and she wasn't looking at him like he'd betrayed her or disappointed her. She just looked kind of surprised, and she was looking at him. Ares' heart thumped painfully at his ribs and he bit his lip, and then he knew he was nuts, because the thought of Xena looking at him this way sent a tide of warmth through his chest – and it felt like joy.

He was still lost in these thoughts when, after several hours of walking in what he'd thought was a straight line, he finally came upon something he recognised: the tree stump.

Ares stared at it in dismay. He must have veered left slightly and come around in a circle, right back to where he began. To make his humiliation complete, his legs felt like lead weights, he was more thirsty than he'd ever felt in his life and his head had started to throb again. His stomach growled loudly, and he realised that the gnawing sensation that had been with him most of the afternoon was hunger.

Ares considered his options. Water first, he had passed a small creek on the other side of the clearing. He could go back there, provided he could force his legs to move that far. Maybe there were fish – but even assuming for a moment that he managed to catch one, what were you supposed to do with them once you caught them? He'd watched mortals gut fish before, of course, but he'd never thought to pay attention to the details... And, come to think of it, how did mortals make fire? Ares looked down at his hands, completely devoid of any fire-making ability now. A fireball or two would have been handy.

He felt a creeping dread starting somewhere in the base of his spine and spreading all the way up to his head: he was mortal and lost in a forest fates-knew where, for all he knew he wasn't even in Greece, with no sword, no food, no water, no shelter and no sense of direction. It was getting colder, too, with the sun beginning to set. His teeth were chattering. Great. Now he was starting to panic.

"Xena!" he shouted, turning around, peering into the lengthening shadows. A flock of birds rose noisily into the rose-tinged sky. Ares felt the full ridiculousness of the situation, but some insane hope drove him to call out again. "Xena?"

This was pathetic. He was pathetic. Ares could just hear Athena's voice in his head, "Calling for your girlfriend to save you?" – and Aphrodite's teasing laugh, "Aw, cheer up, bro, at least you're still here." Ares kicked the tree stump savagely a couple of times, trying to ignore the panicky feelings inside him. He was no good at this whole mortal thing; whatever had made him think he'd be able to do this? Why hadn't he just stayed in the Amazon camp, he could have had the chance at least to talk to Xena!

Get a grip, he snapped at himself mentally. You're a god – were a god. So they threw you out, so what? Mere mortals do this all the time. He forced himself to turn, heading back to where he could just make out the murmur of the creek. He was going to make it. He lengthened his stride, swatting long branches out of his way, crunching twigs and dry grass underfoot, determined to ignore his aching legs and his headache. He could smell the water now, hear the frogs screaming chaotically. His foot squelched in mud, and there was the creek. The water sparkled in the fading light. Ares fell to his knees and drank, cupping his hands, splashing his face, drinking again until his thirst was scarcely a memory. How could cold water taste this good? Was it because he was mortal? He raised his head, water running into his eyes, down his chin. He didn't mind. He was going to make it. He was going to make it, and then he was going to find Xena and talk to her, and then... And then he would think of something.

But there were no fish in the creek, and catching a rabbit proved much harder than it looked, and when evening fell it began to rain.

By night-time, Ares was soaked through, and cold water had lost all its appeal.

He managed at last to find shelter in the hollow of an old oak tree. He sat there now, watching random silver droplets hit the ground, turning the air to fog, making him drowsy. The inside of the tree was damp and dark and smelled like mushrooms, but it was surprisingly warm and seemed to make his numb hands and feet tingle.

Ares shifted his legs, trying to get more comfortable. His exhausted thoughts were growing fuzzier around the edges, confusing. He wondered whether Livia was having second thoughts about the treaty, and then whether Xena was talking to her... They were probably having a huge celebration right now, drinking, Amazons dancing around their fires. It was annoying that he couldn't just open a portal and watch Xena watching them. She would be sitting away from all the merrymaking, somewhere past the crowd, her food and drink untouched. In the firelight, her skin would be gold and very warm, eyes focused just past the crowd. What would she be thinking? Probably something about Gabrielle, how glad she was to have her back – or Eve, how Eve had stopped the war... Would Xena think of him? Ares tossed his head, and the image faded, becoming the fog and then the rain again. He didn't want to know.

After a while, he managed to forget his hunger; he supposed his stomach had given up in disgust and decided to stop bothering him. He tried half-heartedly to come up with some kind of plan for the next day, but he was too tired, and when he closed his eyes it seemed too much of an effort to open them again. He slept fitfully, waking up now and again sure that this was all a weird dream and he was just resting on Olympus. Once, near morning, he thought he heard Xena's voice, and saw her through the mist and rain. He called for her, but then he opened his eyes and knew it too had been a dream, and felt a crushing bleakness that woke him up completely.

He watched the forest getting lighter from where he sat, barely noticing it when the rain ceased at last. A grey rumpled-looking bird near the tree was poking its beak into the hole where some hapless earthworm was trying to hide. Ares kicked at it from his hideout, feeling a kind of sullen kinship with the earthworm. "Eat something that fights back," he grumbled to the bird as it flew off.

Then his hideout darkened. Ares saw a pair of muddy leather boots – legs – skirt – breastplate... He exhaled in a soft 'ahh', and found himself looking up at Xena's face.

"I hope that's not breakfast," she said, nodding at the worm.

"No," he heard himself saying, "that's bait – breakfast just flew off." He felt his face burning; he wanted to move, to stand up, but he couldn't seem to take his eyes off her. She was here. She was here.

"Ah. You were going to eat a sparrow?"

"Is that what it was?" Ares thought he'd actually managed a grin.

"Yep."

There was laughter in Xena's eyes, and the line between her brows relaxed, disappearing. She held out a hand to help him to his feet. Ares gripped it, forgetting his misery as completely as if he had never felt it, managing finally to stand up, facing her. How did she find him?

"I asked Athena."

"Oh."

Xena's smile faded a little, and her face grew serious and almost afraid. Ares recognised that look from his own dreams: she knew what he'd done. She had come looking for him. His heart was beating so hard he could barely hear her quiet words.

"Gabrielle told me about the ambrosia. Did Zeus ...?" She trailed off, as if not quite sure whether to ask the obvious, then said, "You're mortal."

He shrugged.

"I - uh..." Xena stumbled, then as if making a decision, looked straight at him. Her lips were pale, her brows jutting together slightly in concentration. "Ares... Thank you."

And something in her face, her words, made Ares feel as though he was flying; his chest seemed to be expanding until he thought it would burst, and he didn't know whether that was because he was mortal or because he was terrified or because he was in love.

All he could do was nod.

"Xena!" came a shout from beyond the trees. Ares and Xena whipped around and saw Gabrielle; she came to a halt, clutching her side and breathing as though she had been running hard. Her eyes flitted back and forth between Xena and Ares.

"Oh," she said weakly, "Sorry."

"I don't believe this," Ares muttered. Xena shot him an unreadable look before going over to Gabrielle's side, worry in her eyes. "What's wrong?"

"It's Eve," Gabrielle gasped, still short of breath. "You better come, now."

"Of course – what happened? Is it the treaty?"

"She's going to Rome."

"She's going... what? You mean to give them the treaty?"

"No!" Gabrielle said urgently, "I mean she's going back. To stay."

Xena looked stricken. She glanced over at Ares, frowning. "Rome?"

"Hey," he raised his hands, "I had nothing to do with this."

For a moment, Xena continued looking at him; then her eyes softened and she murmured, "I know you didn't."

Ares' heart leapt; he felt Xena's words settling inside him like a warm glow.

"Come on, let's go!" said Gabrielle, and Xena turned.

"Hang on," Ares stopped them, "I can take us all..." He fell silent, glancing at the empty spot on his hip where his sword used to be. His neck grew hot, then his face. "Damn."

Xena ignored the awkward moment, grabbing hold of his vest to pull him along behind her. They followed Gabrielle back through the forest the way she had come. Panting, Ares stumbled into a run; Xena released him and he ran with her behind Gabrielle.

A short time later the trees began to thin out, and then ended altogether. Gabrielle, Xena and Ares came out blinking into the bright sunshine, the huts and tents of the Amazon camp stretching before them. Of course, Ares thought; he had to have walked in the other direction the night before.

Gabrielle motioned to the guards on duty and within moments they were engulfed in the frenetic activity of the camp.

"There she is!" Gabrielle pointed, squinting against the sun. Xena nodded: there was a sea of moving armoured bodies just visible though the alley between two neat rows of huts; in the centre, on a long-legged white horse was Livia, in full general's regalia. The sun flared gold in her hair and lit up her armour.

The three of them ran down the alley, coming out at the edge of the buzzing crowd. Before Ares could say anything, Xena was jostling through the Amazons and Romans in Livia's direction. He started after her, but Gabrielle's outstretched arm blocked his way.

"Stay here," she said, still looking into the crowd where Xena had been. "She has to talk to her daughter – alone."

"Hey," Ares protested, trying to get around Gabrielle's surprisingly solid block. "She's my daughter, too!"

Gabrielle turned to look at him, as though studying him for the first time. "Do you really think you can help?"

Ares considered it reluctantly: what would he say to Eve? And what would she say to him, after all that had happened? He winced. He looked away from Gabrielle, pretending to study the zigzag pattern on the wood of the nearest hut.

"It'll be all right, you know," Gabrielle's soft voice came behind him.

Ares huffed, staring at the wood. "What do you know about it?"

He was surprised to hear an amused note in Gabrielle's voice. "More than you think."

He had to turn around. Gabrielle was grinning a little smugly. Ares crossed his arms, glaring at her. "Well?"

"I know why Eve is going back to Rome."

"Aren't you clever. I don't suppose it has anything to do with ruling a great big empire."

Gabrielle had the grace to look embarrassed. "Actually, it does. But it's not what you think."

"Surprise me."

But in that moment Gabrielle looked at something behind him, and Ares turned to see Xena walking out of the crowd towards them, looking bemused – but not angry.

"How did it go?" Gabrielle asked quickly.

Xena gave her a strange look. "Did you know?"

Gabrielle winced and lowered her head. "Yeah. Xena, I'm sorry, I should've said something, but Eve wanted to be the one to tell you..."

"Tell you what?" Ares demanded, looking between them in utter confusion. "What am I missing?"

Xena shook her head incredulously, then her lips quirked in a half-smile. "It seems that Eve has decided to remain Livia."

Ares continued staring at her. "And this is a good thing?"

Xena glanced at Gabrielle. "Yes. At least ... for Rome. And the Amazons. Eve is going back to take her place on the throne with Augustus. She'll rule Rome the way it should have always been ruled. In peace."

Ares noticed she wasn't smiling anymore.

"Oh." He paused, digesting this. "That's not what you wanted?"

Xena shrugged helplessly, not looking at him. "I wanted my daughter back." She looked up at Gabrielle and Ares saw that her eyes were overbright. "I hadn't thought this far..."

Gabrielle looked like she wanted to kick herself. "I'm so sorry," she said again, "I didn't realise – I thought you'd be happy."

"I am happy," Xena said, trying to sound it. "This is just... Selfish. Eve will be a good ruler, now. She has what it takes."

Gabrielle looked like she wanted to say something, but Xena said, "We should go," and started back down the path between the wooden huts, not looking back. Gabrielle ran to catch up.

Ares glanced over his shoulder before following them; Livia's guards had arranged themselves into their riding formation and the whole procession was moving towards the main gates. Livia turned in the saddle to scan the crowd, and Ares thought she saw Xena – but after a moment she squared her shoulders a bit, as though preparing to take on a great weight, and rode on.

* * *

Xena stopped only when she reached a clearing large enough for a campsite. Gabrielle came up behind her, then Ares; Xena nodded in the direction of the spring she had noticed earlier to tell them to get water if they wanted it. She saw out of the corner of her eye that Gabrielle was carrying a small pack: she must have taken it from her hut on her way out of the camp. Gratitude welled in Xena's heart; it was so very good to know that she was there, to rely again on their friendship. She turned and gave Gabrielle a small smile, and felt Gabrielle squeeze her shoulder quickly as she walked past, carrying the empty waterbags to the spring.

Xena sat down heavily on a fallen log, her knees giving way. The welts on her back still hurt; she tried to focus on them instead of Eve's face, the image of it in the late morning sunshine.

"So," Ares said, settling down beside her after Gabrielle disappeared from view. "Our little girl is all grown up. How does it feel to have single-handedly conquered Rome?"

Xena flinched. Of all the things she didn't want to hear right now... "I conquered nothing," she said curtly.

"You helped Eve get there. And you know," he looked at her askance, "I think you're right. She'll do a damn good job."

"Will she?" Xena looked around at the trees, the leaves that whispered exactly as they had done twenty-five years ago. "Who is our daughter, Ares? I knew my child, and a Roman general... Eve is neither of those things."

"Maybe she's both."

Xena glanced at him, startled. She hadn't expected him to understand. With a kind of resignation she waited for the inevitable punchline, the wisecrack that would spoil the moment, but didn't come. Ares was merely looking at her, frowning a little. It formed lines over his brows – and damned if she knew why she wanted to touch him there. She caught the convulsive gesture of her own fingers, bid them to lie still, cupped loosely over her bare knees.

Her own hands. Xena tried to recognise them, but all she could see was her fist closed on the chakram held to Eve's throat. She had done that.

She said, "I could have killed her... when she killed Gabrielle. You knew that. You wanted that war, or you didn't have the guts to stop it: doesn't matter. I thought it was over. And then you – you go and do this. Give her back to me, give me another chance, let me call her Eve. What am I supposed to do now?"

Ares didn't reply. His silence unnerved Xena more than anything he could have said; she wanted suddenly to strike him, to reach for her sword and fight him as though he was still a god and invincible to her blows. She didn't want to forgive him. Not after he did this one good thing – this one, immense, unbelievable thing, this sacrifice... How was she supposed to deal with that?

"Why did you do it?" she asked. Her voice sounded hard and unnaturally quiet.

Ares shrugged, staring at the ground. Then he raised his eyes, and all Xena could see was his fear. "If I told you I was sorry – about Eve, and Gabrielle... Would you believe me?"

"Would you say it?"

"Probably not." There was a brief pause. Then Ares gave her a too-bright grin. "Well, you know I've always had a thing for you, so..."

"We need firewood," Xena said abruptly. She got to her feet. She should never have asked why he did it; she didn't want to hear it.

"Huh?"

"Firewood. We better find some if you want to eat."

The tension between them broke, and Ares heard his stomach rumble loudly. Embarrassing as it was, he felt deeply relieved. He didn't want to be having this conversation with Xena, not right now. He was hungry and stupid with the barrage of mortal feelings he couldn't even name, and who knew what kind of rubbish he'd be saying next.

"I'll get the wood," he offered.

Xena looked surprised for a moment, then nodded at him. "Fine. Just make sure it's dry; it's been raining all night." She paused, then added as an afterthought: "The fire won't start otherwise."

Ares shot her an amused look. "I've been tossing fireballs for centuries, trust me: I know what burns."

And with that he strode off into the woods, leaving Xena to stare after him. She'd forgotten – how could she ever forget? – the way he could throw her off-kilter with one line, one look. What was he saying, that he could make it as a mortal without her help, that the former God of War who had torched villages by her side needed no help starting a campfire? What a pleasant thought. She was glad he didn't need her; it wasn't like she was planning to spend her life babysitting him.

Except that he might die. He was mortal, he could die and then she'd have to live with the knowledge that she hadn't helped him. Just like last night. Gabrielle had explained about the ambrosia, how Ares had brought her back to life in the same way that years ago Gabrielle had done for her... And though Xena told herself that it had been Ares' choice, that after all the grief he'd caused it was the least he could do, still she had run out into the rain like a fool, calling out for Athena, demanding to know Ares' punishment. Asking Athena where to find him. Running into the forest afterwards, searching, calling out, furious with him for getting lost, for making her chase him. Her heart beating like crazy. Like she would miss him, like he wasn't a god – but he wasn't a god, not anymore. He'd given all that up. For her.

"I won't ask why you're giving our supplies the death stare."

Xena started, looking up guiltily. Gabrielle emerged into the clearing, carrying the full waterbags. She put them down, then added: "But since you're clearly not in the mood for jerky and hard cheese – I got this." She tossed a large cleaned and gutted fish onto the grass and grinned at Xena's expression.

"Oh, Gabrielle – you didn't have to, I would've caught a rabbit..."

Gabrielle waved her protests aside. "It was no trouble; this one was practically jumping out of the water. Besides," she bit her lip, "You could use a break after – what happened with Eve."

"It was the best thing that could have happened."

"Yes," Gabrielle said evenly, but her eyes shone with understanding, shared grief. She sat beside Xena on the log, clasping her hands in her lap. "That doesn't make it any easier, though, does it?"

"No," Xena admitted. Then she sighed, "I should have seen it. She was brought up in Rome with all their values, their life. Remember Dyrrachium? The people she's hurt are in Rome's provinces. That's her duty now, to undo some of the damage she did. I can't argue with that. She is my daughter, but... she has her own path." Xena looked helplessly at Gabrielle. "I can't keep her from it."

"What about Augustus? She said she will marry him... Does she love him?"

"Maybe she does. But love and politics, Gabrielle – they don't mix. If it comes to letting her heart stand in the way of doing good for the people..." Xena fell silent, and Gabrielle nodded gently.

"You think she's like you. The greater good before her own happiness?"

Xena smiled unhappily. "I was lucky. I never had to make that choice." She looked up at Gabrielle, her smile growing warmer. "I had you."

"You're not going all sentimental on me, are you?" Gabrielle gave her a mock punch on the arm, her eyes sparkling with laughter. "Careful, you'll be writing poetry next."

Xena pulled a disgusted face, setting both of them to laughing, Gabrielle's cheeks turning pink so that she looked almost like the little girl from the village of Potadeia – save for her eyes. They seemed darker now and held knowledge, like the sea or the deep forest.

"I'm sorry," Xena said, sobering. "I should have never let you go to the Amazons that way, all alone... I don't know what I was thinking."

To her surprise, Gabrielle's grin only widened. "Maybe that I was a grown woman who can make her own decisions? I've got news for you, Xena: people do things. Good things, bad things, so-so things. Clever, stupid, heroic, selfish. They're not always your fault, you know. You're my best friend and I love you dearly, but do me a favour: stop trying to take the credit for everything. All right?"

Xena blinked, taken aback. "But the Amazons – the council – it must have been Tartarus!"

Gabrielle looked at her seriously. "It was hard, yes. But it had to happen that way, don't you see? I wanted to go. I thought – I had these dreams. Kids' stuff. It was kind of glamorous, to think of myself as the Queen of the Amazons. Then I found out first hand what it means, what it really means to be Queen. And you know what I discovered?"

"What?" Xena frowned.

"That I don't want it. I don't want to be the one who makes those choices: the lives of a few sacrificed to save thousands of others, the welfare of my tribe before any other. I know how to fight, and now I know that I can lead, too. But the life I was meant for isn't there. It's here, with you."

Xena looked into Gabrielle's face, the soft sunlight on her cheeks, the hair that was still braided Amazon-style... She was so different – harder, smarter, older – but for the first time, Xena forced herself to look past those things, pushed aside her own guilt over this change and saw the woman beside her as simply herself. Gabrielle. Not the Bard of Potadeia or the Queen of the Amazons, just Gabrielle, her friend. The one who had chosen to walk beside her through everything. Who knew that power didn't bring happiness. The one who took responsibility for her own choices, and who was now looking at her friend and asking that she accept her. She was no little girl; hadn't been one for a very long time. And that was okay. She was Gabrielle.

"You okay?" Gabrielle said softly.

"Yeah," Xena said. She hesitated, then pulled Gabrielle into a brief, awkward hug. "Just... try not to die on me again, would you?"

"I'll do my best," Gabrielle agreed, trying to free her own arms to return Xena's embrace. "Hey... You're suffocating me here!"

"Ohh, sorry." Xena released her, looking sheepish – then her expression changed.

"What is it?" Gabrielle followed Xena's stare to the other side of the clearing. Ares was walking towards them, carrying an enormous pile of dry branches and twigs. He dumped the lot on the ground, brushing his hands together.

"That should do," he said, satisfied.

Gabrielle tried hard not to laugh. "Ares – that's enough for ten fires."

He shrugged, unperturbed. "Had to keep myself busy while you were having your happy reunion, didn't I?"

He stretched and settled down in the grass while Xena got out the flint from Gabrielle's pack to start the fire. Gabrielle noticed Ares watching curiously as Xena coaxed the first small flames from the silvery dry wood. Gabrielle started slicing the fish for their stew, glancing up every now and again to find Ares still watching Xena work, putting the water on to boil, adding more firewood. It was almost like the days when Xena had been pregnant with Eve: Ares' silent presence at their campsite, Xena pretending that she neither noticed nor cared. Only this time, it was all different. It struck Gabrielle that Ares had given up his godhood for this. That they could sit together beside a leaping fire and cook their lunch, and watch the afternoon wither away into evening, – this peace of theirs had been bought with the Godhood of War. Was there an irony in that?

"It's done," Xena said, wincing as she held the spoonful of hot stew to her mouth.

They ate slowly, not talking, the remains of the fire crackling and popping in its circle of rocks. Once or twice, Gabrielle tried to strike up a conversation, but neither Xena nor Ares responded, and after a while she gave up. It wasn't a comfortable meal. Gabrielle wondered whether Xena had told Ares of their plans to visit Amphipolis and Potadeia; whether she had asked him to come along. It all seemed very peculiar, travelling with the God of War, twenty-five years since the day they left Greece for Ch'in. She thought of her little sister, Lila, and how old she would be now. Her parents. Her stomach squeezed into a knot. She wasn't at all sure that she wanted to see Potadeia anymore.

"So where to now?" Ares asked, when their bowls were empty, and it they could no longer pretend to be engrossed in their food.

"Amphipolis," Xena replied, carefully avoiding looking at him. She gave Gabrielle a questioning look, "Unless you want to go to Potadeia –"

Gabrielle shook her head hastily. "Amphipolis first. The girl in that tavern said that Cyrene, uh..."

"Died ten years ago," Xena completed dully. "I'd like to see her tomb."

Gabrielle half-expected Ares to make some comment about it, but he said nothing, merely nodded.

"Are you coming with us?" Xena said abruptly, looking at Ares at last.

Ares flinched, raising his eyes to meet Xena's. For a long moment they stared at each other; Gabrielle could not tell what passed between them, but eventually Ares shook his head. "I don't think so, Xena; thanks all the same."

"Where are you going to go?" Xena had not looked away, but Gabrielle saw her hands had grown white on the spoon she was still holding.

"Oh, you know," Ares said, sounding almost nonchalant. "Wander the earth, see the sights. I might head to Egypt: those pyramids look pretty stupid from Olympus, but who knows, there might be something to them, up close."

"Come with us as far as Amphipolis, then," Gabrielle offered. Xena shot her a frantic look, but Gabrielle chose to ignore it. "It's on your way, anyway."

Ares eyed Xena a moment. "All right."

Xena nodded curtly, then began to clear away the bowls and spoons, shoving everything into the empty pot. "I'll go wash up," she said, rising.

"I'll help." Ares stood up as well, and followed Xena towards the creek.

Gabrielle watched them go, Xena's back very straight, Ares half a pace behind her. He caught up as Xena half-turned to say something, frowning – but Gabrielle saw the ghost of laughter in the curve of Xena's mouth. She couldn't hear Ares' response, but she saw Xena's raised eyebrows, amused despite herself, and noticed that she walked a little closer to Ares, the pot clanking against her leg.

They took a very long time washing the dishes.

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