|
Reflections
By: Cressid
Email: Cressid@email.com
Rating: PG for the random bad language
Summary: This is a very short story, done in 3 scenes, set just at the close of Coming Home. What was Ares doing on that stump all by his lonesome? And what was going on in Xena's head after the Death Match 2000? This is primarily first person chop as I call it - sentence structure is not always grammatically correct 'cause these are their thoughts. Hope this doesn't drive you crazy.
I must offer a big fat THANK YOU to my wonderful muses and betas, Glad and Tango, who let me bounce ideas off them until the cows came home. In addition to their moral support, Glad handled the posting of this fic and Tango created a great cover for the same. And I still write it all down on paper...sheesh.
Disclaimer: No, I don't own anyone. None of these characters are of my conception. Wouldn't mind owning KS/Ares, but hey, he's married. I'm not making any money off this little ditty, and no copyright infringements are intended. If you sue me you'll get my collection of Partridge Family vinyl and that's about it.
Scene 1
The first thing I noticed was the breeze. Just a gentle thing really, but it was enough to bring a chill. Make that an ache and a chill. Here I am, sitting on this tree stump, watching the sun begin to set, and I've got goose bumps. Whole damn body's throbbing like a toothache and now I'm going to start shivering like some virgin with her first man. Some god I am...was.
I cannot believe how sore I feel, inside and out. Xena's got some mean moves. I'd forgotten what it's like to be on the receiving end when she really means business. Looking down at my hands I can see how bruised and swollen they are, knuckles cut and bloody. I try to flex my fingers and, gods, it hurts! Is this what it feels like to be old? Stiff and slow, with your body refusing to obey? Guess I'm gonna find out, if I live that long. Made lots of enemies on and off the battlefield. Who knows? Maybe some of 'em will come looking when word gets out I'm mortal. There's a kind of gallows humor in the thought, but, hey, suits me just fine. I'd try to smile but my lip hurts too damn much. It's split open, too. Just like my heart.
Head bowed, I rub my hands together, trying to get rid of the last few stubborn bits of dried blood. Most of it came off in the water...most, but not all. I'm burning up inside despite the cool breeze. My gut feels like fire, as dry as the ground beneath my boots. Then I see it. A little splash in the dirt, like a pebble, and the dust flies up for just a second. What was that? I answer my own question as I lift my hand to my nose. It's wet. Of course, what else could it be? I am sitting here on this damn stump with my bruised hands and my goose bumps, and now I am sniffling. I am pathetic.
I'm almost glad the gods are dead. Listen; hear that? Athena's howling with laughter from whatever abyss she's in. Another drop of water hits the ground, but this time it's not from my nose. It's raining. That's all I need, a good drenching. Like I haven't already had one today. Do you know how leather shrinks after it gets wet? Not to mention the fact that I'll chafe...
A third fat drop falls on a small stone right beside my boot. It slowly trickles down the side. On a whim I catch what's left of the drop on my finger and bring it up for examination. It's reflective, like a mirror. I can see myself in a twisted kind of way. I rub my forefinger and thumb together until the drop is gone, absorbed into my skin. Drop number four lands right on my fingertips and I look up at the sky, searching for the angry cloud that must surely be hanging over my head. Nothing there, though, but the usual gray clouds you'd see up here. They carry snow, most likely. The breeze kicks up a bit and I feel something cool on my face. I hadn't noticed before, but my cheeks are wet too. I lift my hands to my face and find the source of the rain.
Scrubbing roughly at my face, wiping the back of my arm across my eyes, I thank the gods, if any remain, that I am completely isolated. No one will see my weakness. It's just a lapse, anyway. Just a come down from battle. It's only natural to feel a little...what? Numb? But if I'm numb why do I have this pain in my belly? Why does my heart feel like it wants to explode out of my chest? You know, I shouldn't ask myself these rhetorical questions.
Been sitting here trying NOT to remember the day's events. Trying NOT to see her, standing in front of that icy pond, back turned toward me. Trying not to see her vulnerability. And when I think of those words...damn, those words I said to her! Gods don't get squeamish. We're funny like that. It's a little known fact that I've never actually had to throw up. One more bit of evidence to prove I'm not the man I once was. Because, right now, I can barely keep the urge in check. I feel sick all the way down to my toes. When I said those words to her and she turned around..."Are you ready to die, Xena?"
Now I'm grateful, glad to my bones that I gave up my immortality. Couldn't spend eternity remembering her face...remembering my shame. The urge becomes too strong and my stomach rises, but it's only dry heaves. I'm denied even this small measure of relief. My hands are openly shaking as I scrub my face once more and try to compose myself. Why bother? At this point it doesn't matter. The memories are coming now, too many to count and too strong to stop.
Xena on some long forgotten battlefield, blood splattered and raging, urging her army on. That cry of hers, the one that sends a pleasurable chill stabbing through me. "Kill 'em all!" Her sword rose in triumph, she slowly rides through the ranks of her men while they call her name. "Xena! Xena! Xena!!" I couldn't stop myself from joining them in the mindless chanting. Not a man there who wouldn't have died for her...who didn't belong to her, body and soul. Why should I be any different? "Xena!!!!"
Luring me to her tent to watch her work over some prisoners. Torture is an art and Xena is its master. No one could resist her, neither prisoner nor god. We brought out something in each other that no one else could understand. Each of us has seen the monster in the mirror and we embrace it. How beautiful she is in her darkness.
Giving her the chakram I'd stolen. The perfect weapon for my perfect warrior. Xena's voice, touched with awe as she held it for the first time. I hear it in her words, the promise fulfilled. "Ares, it's beautiful." The complete harmony between the weapon and its' wielder. Light glinting off the cold steel: that same coldness in Xena's eyes as she held it lovingly.
Disbelief as she told me she was taking a different path. "My heart is unchained," she'd said. "I have to atone for my actions." Atone? For being exactly what she was meant to be? Seeing her take up with that blonde twit, the Bard of Poto-hicksville. I have never been so angry. She'll be back. I know her...
Searching for a replacement. At least that's what I told her. Mavican can't come close and we both know it. I really want to separate them - the warrior from her conscience. I can have her again if I can just do that. I see it in Xena's eyes; she knows it too. So close to success.
My deal with the Fates. If Xena kills Hope, Xena dies. The blonde again, always interfering with my plans, sacrificing herself so Xena can live. Well, maybe that didn't work out so bad. "No more living for you!" Xena screams at Callisto as she plunges the hind's blood dagger deep into her flesh. Then she turns to me...the look in her eyes. I know without being told. This time I pushed too hard. I'm next.
Xena with that pontificating, peace-loving, holier-than-me con man Eli. How can she listen to that crap? He stands there with that smug I've-got-a-secret look on his face and I want to crush him. Oh, he's really got his hooks into her all right. He pretends he's teaching Gabrielle a new way, but I know what he really wants. Guess what, holy man? Ain't gonna happen!
She's in that huge bathing pool, shoulders wet, hair piled loosely on top of her head. I know immediately something's off. Can practically smell it on her. She isn't complete. But when she rises up from the bath and comes towards me...well, I'm only a god. If I could have her...so damn desperate at this point I don't care if she's lost her darkness.
I've got plenty to go around. Her words fall like kisses on my skin. "I know you."
“Yes, princess, you do.”
The memory of her like that, so open and unafraid, consumes me. I have this taste in my mouth, like bitter almonds. In that instant there was no history between us, no pain or anger. We could have been anything we wanted:
allies, friends, lovers. The possibilities torment me. I'm afraid I missed my best chance with her, in those few seconds when time couldn't touch us.
How long have I been sitting here? Long enough to stiffen up. I try stretching but it doesn't work. This stinks. I do a lousy impression of a mortal. The sun has started its slow descent, making strange little shadows on the ground. Not much remains of the Amazon's land. My army cut down most of the trees and we burned out all their farms. Only the small village is still standing. I can hear the faint voices of the tribe as they try to organize a cleanup effort. No doubt Xena is down there doing what she can. The sounds are vague and distant, not enough to disturb my reverie. On this hill, sitting on my wooden throne, I survey the forest of my own destruction. The desolation reminds me of things I wish I'd never done.
I am totally devoid of feeling as I carry her into the tomb. My brain can't process it yet. How could she be gone? I know she wasn't a god, but she wasn't supposed to die. Not like this, not yet. Placing her body inside the icy coffin. She'll be safe here. No gods will pursue her beyond death. She is still the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I didn't handle it right with her, I know that now. The very thing I wanted from her was the one thing I never gave her. Gabrielle understood. Score one for the blonde. "I loved you, Xena." I seal the tomb. I can already feel every second of eternity weighing down on me. Immortality has never been a curse until now. Whatever heart I have is left inside that icy grave.
I didn't know her plan. She didn't trust me enough to tell me. And why should she? Trust has never been a big factor in our relationship. "Give me what I want!" They stab into my mind like the sharpest of daggers, the words I once screamed at her. I rant, I rave, I threaten. I back her into a corner and don't even know it. No, that's wrong. I DO know it. I simply don't care. She's right not to trust me. She understands, somehow, that giving into me will destroy us both.
Today I nearly took care of that myself. I would give anything to forget the sight of my own fists striking her, hearing the sounds as they connected with her face. Then there was the sight of her, just beneath the ice. Yeah, I know the Furies drove me to it, and considering how I once turned them on Xena it may be poetic justice, but I carry this niggling little fear inside me. This tiny black cancer that's going to eat at me for the rest of my mortal life.
Maybe it wasn't the Furies; maybe it was me all along. I'm afraid that I wanted to hurt her, that I wanted to kill her. I am terrified that I would have enjoyed seeing the life drain from her, knowing that she could never reject me or deny me or hurt me again. I pray to any god or demon still standing that my life as a mortal is short. This is the first time I've ever felt guilt...and it is choking me. Honestly, death would be a mercy. I have just one problem with it, wouldn't you know. Ares, the once great God of War, is scared spitless. Will I end up in Tartarus? Does it still exist? Or will I wind up spending my eternity in some worse place? Where do gods go when they die? I know one thing: I damned myself today when I heard three little words fall from my lips. "I killed her."
Scene 2
The first thing I noticed as I left the hut was the breeze. Not much of one really, but it's just a bit cooler than I'd like. Wouldn't bother me at all normally, but I don't usually spend my free time floating around in a freezing pond, either.
After we came down from the ridge I used Marga's hut to dry off. Put myself back together as best I could. Gabrielle and Eve hovered all over me, doing the mother hen routine. It was almost funny to see them fussing and clucking like that...almost funny. The three of us in the queen's hut, trying to dry off, warm up and pretend that Ares and I hadn't just gone toe to toe in a deathmatch. One that I lost, by the way. But, hey, that was the plan and it worked.
Ares lagged behind us on the way back and then he stopped entirely on one of the hills surrounding the village. Just sat down on a stump and that was it. I didn't question it. Nobody did. We were all spread way to thin...no reserves left. So I guess all's well that ends...how? With both of us alive.
When I couldn't take any more of their fidgeting I grabbed the towel from Eve's hand and threw it to the floor. My skin wasn't clammy: it was raw. The cold had nothing to do with it. Gabrielle took her cue and left, saying she was going to see Marga. I stood up and walked over to a table to get my breastplate and finish dressing. Eve picked up the towel and folded it. Repeatedly. I knew she was upset at being here, uncomfortable facing her victims. She was probably more than a little afraid of them, but there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it just then. Too many of my own ghosts to deal with. She told me she'd stay inside the hut and I couldn't feel anything but relief. One more crisis would have finished me off. I knew Marga would reserve judgment about her punishment so I didn't worry too much about leaving her there. Besides, Gabrielle would be close and Eve isn't exactly helpless.
So I head outside with all due haste and see the signs of a fledgling cleanup. Marga, Varia and Gabrielle stand in the midst of the activity, conferring with each other and directing the efforts of the tribe. Oh, she's in her element now. Gabrielle's never happier than when she's helping others, no matter what form it takes. Although they're turned away from me I can imagine the look on her face. Slight frown, eyes narrowed slightly, tongue just touching her upper lip. The thought makes me want to laugh, but I don't. Too damn sore. Ares has a real mean streak in him. I'd forgotten what it felt like to have that anger focused on me. Not to mention he punches like he's still a god. I smile a little in spite of myself and regret it immediately. Lips, nose, jaw...they all hurt. In fact, if I put all my various aches together they almost match the one in my heart.
I'm not sure I'm in the mood for company so I head away from the village center, towards a corral the Amazons use for their livestock. I make sure I stay out of Gabrielle's line of vision. The other Amazons don't question me as I pass along the outskirts of the camp. One glance over my shoulder to make sure nobody's following and I escape to relative isolation. Isolation? Or sanctuary? I have no idea.
The little structure needs to be totally rebuilt. Rails have been smashed, posts toppled. Damn thing's good for kindling but not much else. I grab hold of one of the few posts still upright and start to twist it around, trying to pull it free. That's when I notice my hands. Hard to believe, but I didn't pay attention till now. Couple of split knuckles with a few cuts thrown in for good measure. Did I mention they're all swollen? I barely recognize these hands. They shed his blood just a few hours ago. They belong to someone else.
I flex the fingers, oh so delicately, and I am shocked when they respond. I release the post and lift my right hand up in front of my face, blocking the weak rays of a sun that is contemplating its own mortality. Dusk will come before too much longer. I stand there shivering just a bit as I turn the palm inward. Strange how I can look at something without really seeing it.
I feel a gentle tug, a nudge, from somewhere in the recesses of my mind. Something's stirring within me, finding a voice. It's soft, like a whisper in a crowded room. If I listen closely I can almost make it out...
"I felt something." Great. Gotta hand it to 'em. The skeletons certainly can pick their moment to come tumbling out. What's the matter? Too crowded in there for ya? And, as usual, Ares leads the pack. It's been so long since I said those words. More than twenty-five years if I count the catnap. But I've found time has little effect on how I feel. The battle with Athena seems like just yesterday.
I'm standing there watching him come to me, seeing the look on his face. He doesn't know it, must never know it, but he frightens me more than Athena does. She wants Eve's life and maybe mine, but Ares wants more. Ares always wants more. What I can't tell him is how close I am to giving it to him. He's like a safe harbor in a storm. I wish I didn't know it's all an illusion...a dream sent straight from Morpheus. He asks me to seal our agreement and I deny him. He tells me what it means to stand together and this time I deny myself. "I felt nothing." Once again he is gone and I am still behind these walls. They feel flimsy, like they're made out of a wish and a prayer. I know they'll fall; it's just a question of when.
I break off my reverie and focus once again on the post. Gripping tightly, I manage to get it out with a lot of twisting and tugging. Fine by me. A little exercise might help take my mind off things. I move on to the next post, and the next. I block out all sounds around me, concentrate on my own breathing, grunting and swearing as I pull one piece of wood after another from the earth. Eventually I don't hear anything but his voice.
"Why do you continue to deny us?" Yeah, like I'm gonna answer THAT. Knowledge is power. One of the first things he ever taught me was to never let an enemy see your weakness. Ares may have forgotten his own rule but I haven't. He IS my enemy, in more ways than one. On the surface we want different things. After all, he is the God of War. I'm trying to redeem myself somehow, to wash just a little of the blood from my hands. Ares would have me drown in it. Atonement is not something he understands. His arrogance can be overwhelming. I was "destined" to be his warrior and whatever else he wants. There might be many reasons I oppose him, but I know the ugly truth in the darkest part of my soul. I'm trying to save myself and to Tartarus with anyone else.
Now when it comes to using him, that's another story. I can play on his feelings for me when I need to. I have to admit I take a perverse satisfaction in that. It's not like he hasn't done the same to me, and his "thing" for me sure came in handy when I needed an ally to help save Eve. Was I deluding him when I asked him to be her father? Part of me says it was the heat of the moment but the other part is afraid it might be what I really want. If I close my eyes and concentrate I can feel the cold stone floor under my feet, feel the fur slide against my skin as I drop it to my ankles. For these few minutes in his temple time can't touch us. Complete surrender is what I'm offering here, but I don't think either of us knows it. Words from another time and place echo in my head. "I'm having urges I'm not too PROUD of." Got it in one. Have to admit he rattled me when he said that. I knew he felt something for me. But it was the way he said it, like he didn't want to feel anything, that made me grit my teeth and hold on to my pride. Right back at ya, pal.
"Xena." My name doesn't register at first. I've been hearing voices for a while now. "Xena!" The impatient tones get my attention this time. Gabrielle's standing off to my left, a towel in her hand. "You were growling like Cerberus, Xena. What's wrong?" I know she's concerned but I do not feel like sharing right now. I put out a hand for the towel and she tosses it to me. "Nothing." I wipe my face off and lay the towel across a rail. Leaning forward I rest my hands on the wood and breathe deep, trying to relax my mind as well as my body. Gabrielle isn't buying it. I haven't let her see my eyes. It's bad enough that I know what's there. No point in showing her. Can't stand those looks she gives me sometimes when I'm thinking about him.
Thankfully she follows my lead and doesn't pursue it. She walks over to the rail and picks up the towel, casually twirling it in her hands. "We've made a small start on repairs. Most of the buildings can be patched up before the snow falls. And we got lucky...there aren't a great many wounded." She keeps her voice even, trying to pretend he friend isn't acting like a lunatic. Thank you, Gabrielle. I'll see if I can keep up my end. "Good. I've been trying to tear this corral down. I figure they can use it for kindling. Anyway, they have very few cattle left." Damn, I'm proud of myself. That sounded almost rational. There's a lot of stuff bubbling just below the surface, though, and I don't know how long I can keep it down. She throws me one of her I-know-you-too-well- glances and I sense she's waiting for me to make a decision about something. Well, that makes two of us. All these years of trying to escape my past, Ares and myself were in vain. I am right back where I started.
She finally takes pity on me and breaks the silence just as it is about to break me. "Xena, we need to talk," she says firmly. Oh, gods. My lips twitch. I can't stop the smile that comes. How many times have I heard that one before? Now I'm really in for it. She does serious better than anyone I ever met. No sense putting it off. "What is it, Gabrielle?" I'm using my best Warrior Princess tone. It's been known to intimidate more than a few warlords and even a certain god. She doesn't give me time to raise my defenses; just wades right in. "We need to talk about you and Ares. About why you won't admit that you love him." For a moment there's nothing but silence. Even my heart seems to stop. Then I hear it. Is that the air rushing out of my lungs? I feel like I've been kicked in the gut. To hear it spoken by another person gives it life.
She keeps going, ignoring the pasty look that I'm sure is all over my face. My hands are digging into a rail, nails making little crescent moon gouges in the wood. "This has been a long time coming. You've been running away from one thing or another since before we met. It's time to stop. You've laid your ghosts to rest, Xena. All except one." Her voice is still serious but it has a quality I haven't heard before. Is it acceptance? I turn to face her and I'm surprised by what I see. This isn't the young Gabrielle I met in a small village six years ago. She's not the Amazon wanna-be or the student of Eli or the sidekick of a warrior princess. She's all grown up. Did it happen when I wasn't looking? She gives me that easy grin of hers, the one that says she reads me like a scroll. "Yeah, shocking, isn't it," she laughs. "Gabrielle of Potodeia is a big girl now." I laugh too and the atmosphere lightens.
Once again she speaks, her words carrying no less weight despite the softer tone. "You know that redemption you've been chasing after? Why not allow yourself to have it? The part of you that wanted to conquer Greece is dead. You're not the same anymore, Xena. None of us are. And if damnation can be earned, well then, so can salvation." She does have a way with words, this little bard.
I wish I could tell her what's in my soul, but she wouldn't understand. How could she? There's nothing in her that comes close to my own bloodlust. If I could believe that I would never revert to my old ways...but I will never be completely sure of it. Not while I feel his pull on me so strongly. Not while I love him. I have tried to rip it out, this need I have for him. Done everything I can think of to poison it and make it wither. Either it's too strong or I'm too weak, because nothing works. Ares and I are dangerous for each other, and it may always be that way. How in Hades’ name can I be with him when I'm always in danger of losing myself?
My throat tightens as I force the words out. "Gabrielle, I want to believe what you say is true. But if you knew..." "I do know, Xena," she interrupts quietly. "I know that you love him. I know that none of us will have peace until you resolve this. And I know you shouldn't wait any longer. He's not getting any younger." She laughs a little at the end, and again, I can't restrain my smile. She nods in the direction of the hill. "Go on. We'll all be here when you get back."
A tug on my arm to get me moving and then I am heading in his direction. This will probably turn out to be a bad idea. We don't exactly see eye to eye. I walk away from the village and move slowly through the forest of stumps. I turn my head once to look behind me and see Gabrielle standing by the rail, one hand raised to block the rays of the sun. A deep sigh and I face forward again and continue my journey. I'm not certain, but I could swear my steps are almost light.
Scene 3
"I killed her." I can say with total honesty that I actually shocked myself with that short phrase. Who knew three little words would reverberate louder than the crash of Olympus? Never prepared myself for anything like this. How could I? I was willing to die for her...never thought our roles would be reversed. Even if I close my eyes I can't escape that little scene by the pond. Maybe I shouldn't try. Maybe I deserve it...
She hits me with that incredible strength of hers, knocks me around like I'm a toy. Effortless. It would be beautiful to watch under normal circumstances, but I'm too busy bleeding like a pig just now. We've had our little spats before, quite a few to be accurate, but this one is different. It's not just because the Furies are tearing my mind apart. I'm different; so is Xena. It's like we've dropped the masks and now it's just the two of us as we truly are, each fighting for survival in one way or another. My guard is down. Couldn't raise it if I wanted to. She's getting an eyeful now. Here stands Ares, formerly of Olympus, once the God of War. Sniveling and whimpering while his girlfriend beats the crap out of him. Uh huh. Watch as I rant and rave mindlessly, courtesy of the cackling hens known as the Furies. I see the blood in the snow and ice. Surprised to find it's mine. "Does this give you pleasure?" Great. Any minute now I'm going to ask her to kiss it and make it all better. But the worst part is looking at Xena as she watches my blood flow. Yes, it does give her pleasure. How did we ever come this far?
I lift one hand to my face again, feel the swelling of lip and jaw. Bet she's got more than a few bruises of her own. Didn't exactly hold back when I attacked her. I replay the fight over and over in my now blessedly clear head. See Ares hit Xena. See Ares listen to the voices in his demented little mind. "Kill her...Kill her!" See Xena looking up through a window of ice. I've never felt fear before. Not really. But there's something ripping through my gut; my knees are weak, my arms are trembling. Oh gods, what have I done? "Get her out, get her out, get her out!" The thought overrides everything else, even the feeling of the Furies leaving my mind.
I have finally done something beyond redemption. I can't make it go away or restore the balance. I kneel beside her and suddenly understand why she fights so hard against her own personal demons, why she fears me. Because of moments like this one; committing an act than can never be set right. If I had known my love for her would set us on this path I would have turned away. "NOOO!!!!"
That's what I try to tell myself, anyway. I want to shout to the world "Ares is a new man!" Don't know if it's true or not. And I have a remarkable talent for self-deception. "She'll come back to me, she needs me, no one else understands her like I do." The too-familiar mantra runs through my mind. Good thing I happened to be a god; a mortal would have grown old waiting for her return. Perhaps that's my future now, too. Yeah, I want to think I can be noble and kind and all that other stuff. I'm just not sure. Wanna know why? It's this tiny voice, deep inside me, that knows the true Ares. Know what it says? "Liar."
I skirt yet another tree stump in what was once the Amazon's forest. I know Ares was under the control of the Furies when he had this done but I'm still really pissed. He's not a god anymore; he can't fix the things he screws up. Guess he hasn't learned that lesson yet. Hope I don't have to teach it to him. I have other things on my mind.
Keep hearing Gabrielle's voice asking me why I won't admit that I love him. A disgusted snort escapes me. Not hard to figure out. I keep moving uphill, knowing he's there waiting for me. Seems like a bad idea, hanging around outside the village you tried to destroy. But since when has that ever stopped him? I can see the crest of the hill from here. Not too much further, and I have my thoughts for company.
How can I love him? Not a damn clue. I shouldn't, that's for sure. Not after all the things he's done, the games he's played. He has tried to manipulate my life at every turn. Still remember how angry he was when I told him I was changing my ways. He yelled and threatened, told me nobody walks away from him. And then he laughed. Said I'd never make it in the world. I couldn't. I have this need for conquest and power. I'm a warrior, not a farmer. Have to admit he was right about that. Sometimes, when I'm not paying attention, it sneaks up on me. This feeling that I was meant for other things. Ares sees it, of course. He sees a lot of things I'd rather keep hidden. When I'm with him my self-control is not what I pretend. OK, just say it. I'm flat out scared of him. It's too easy to fall back into our old ways. He feels so damn good.
He's not big on being noble either.
| | |
