1. A Conquerors Job Is Never Done

**Title: Grizzly Tales: #1 **Winterspell**  
Author: **© DUS

**Couple: **It's a surprise! **  
Rating: **NC-17. Sex, Death, Violence, Drama, Dark Romance, Mystery, Humour, Adventure.

**Summary: **Post Conqueror/AU. What if everything you thought you knew about Snow White was a lie? Leap into the dark and discover the light as Xena battles a forbidding curse that will bring death upon the Earth and turn the unbelievable journey of ones destiny from a running myth into a living legend.

**AN:** As a writer, I couldn't possibly post without giving my thanks to the wonderful people who've helped make this happen. Thank you to my talented friend 'Writer Writing,' my Buddies on FFN and to all the Fans for your continuing support and praise!

Grizzly tales are a series of twisted fairy tales based upon and influenced by the darker style of the Brothers Grimm, Tim Burton, Once Upon a Time and the original fables from Disney that enraptured us as children.

**Disclaimer: **All characters and or settings within the Xena Verse are the sole property of their respective owners: The Creators, Ren Pictures & Universal Studios. No profit is made or intended from the writing of this fiction.

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**Please review! You don't know how much it means to an Author to get a review on their fic and know whether you're enjoying it of if there's room for improvement. Believe me; it makes us want to write more for you.**

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**~ Chapter One ~**

**A Conquerors Job Is Never Done**

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"Once upon a time, in the Mycenaean age of Heroes, Kings and Queens, there reigned a most fearsome of Tyrants. With lips as red as a rose and hair as black as the shadows, it was said that her beauty and passion alone swept across the Nation in a fierce storm of fire and destruction, claiming the land to rule over the ancient cities from Arcadia to Sparta, but this Demon's thirst for power grew so strong and into a most terrible of diseases that its lethal grasp was forever seeking to conquer the known world beyond the bounds of war that rest upon the very Palace of Tiryns; or so some say."

"Oh, that part's true. Believe me." A satirically dark voice from behind slashed the air in two, putting a dead halt against the Slave's spellbinding words of magic, or better said her prolific tales of complete and utter rot according to the Empress' relatively sensitive ears.

If this damn jester of a Fool possessed even at least half a brain inside that thick skull to entertain the Crowd's pathetic group of minds tonight, then she had better fucking start telling it straight!

A Tyrant or Demon, really now...? Was that what the Destroyer of Nations, Conqueror of both land and sea if not the majestic Queen of all Peloponnesus that she was had literally come to be known as; nothing but a Beast, a horrible Monster ready to pierce the very hearts of those who dared to defy their Monarch's orders?

Well, they couldn't exactly be blamed, could they?

"This Woman is the bringer of death. She'll never sleep and she'll never stop! Can't you see!?" The sudden bark of a nearby Peasant breaking over the roar pulled Xena down to Earth, his lonely cries echoing hard within the walls of the Megaron while that impudent outburst forced her off the throne faster than one could utter 'crap!'

"One more word; and I'll pull your guts out through your halo. How's that for incentive?" She threatened in masked rage, her lips quirking marvellously at the thought circling with the hunger of a buzzard inside the deepest depths of an obviously twisted mind.

"I'd rather die than live under your power any day."

"Good. Then you're relieved of your duty. Guards! Take this big-mouthed Idiot away, I know of a Persian Trader who'll pay nicely to see this Swine's head roll. So, does anyone else feel lucky?" Her proposal seemed to linger before the tornados of annoyance finally gripped her mood. "I didn't think so."

With no more than a glance, Xena's next move found the Empress staring impatiently down at the face of a map, its jagged lines reminding her about a Roman trail not too far from here as she stood firm against the table, the pretty colour of the wood glowing an almost intense shade of red amongst a litter of candles burning meticulously bright within her chambers.

"If you've come to gloat then you're wasting my time." An instinctively sharper tone left the mouth as an immersed sense of warmth began caressing hotly against her nape, the God's breath instantly managing to send a river of shivers up and down her spine.

Ares couldn't help the amused smile that crossed his lips, he never could with her. Her words were as slicing as any weapon he had ever know, but they along with her bodily reactions showed that she was more his than she would ever admit.

Fully materialized now, he let a finger trace across her shoulder and down her arm.

"Gloat, my Dear, the word isn't even in my vocabulary." He could practically hear the roll of her eyes though he couldn't see her face.

"No, I'm only here to offer some helpful suggestions." He said, although the way he emphasized suggestions said they were anything but.

"That's all you're ever here for. What, sleeping around on Olympus not what it's all cracked up to be, or were you planning to announce the fact I should squish these miserable little Townsfolk right where they stand instead?" Her remarks rained down in a bitter form of eclipsed jealousy and visible irritation against the assaulting reminder of the wicked names still racking her soul from those two expendable Servants.

Despite his Princess' harsh comments and turned back though, there was no denying the way that the sensation of his touches could always make the blood inside her veins run hotter than the lava of any disastrous volcano, not this time anyway, as Xena proceeded to fake ignorance, convinced the only reason for allowing him so close was so she could shut him down herself.

Irritation and desire welled up inside him simultaneously at her cross mood.

His hand had now reached her own and he clasped it, leading it toward the map but not before having her pick up the dagger on the corner of the table.

Suddenly, he brought their hands and the dagger across, crashing down on the town she had been referring.

"You should always squish the Townsfolk, that goes without saying. And the sooner, the better."

He snaked his other arm around her waist and from the way she melted against his form, he could insinuate that she wouldn't have been all that displeased if he had been here solely for the first reason.

"Are you always this ruthless?" She asked smugly, swallowing hard before whirling around in his arms, their eyes meeting for the first few seconds of the night; blue burning into brown.

"Those Fools at Athens won't even know what's hit them. Then again, I've been dying to ride a ship to Crete and take central command over that powerless, untouched city of theirs."

They were now both inches apart, her breath mixing temptingly with his own; and the dominance of his presence, so close, trapping her there, hard against the table, could awaken in a heartbeat every hidden desire waiting to leave the tip of her tongue.

But still, the words refused to jump as a soft moan unwillingly escaped her throat.

"As you should be." He crooned; his voice barely above a whisper.

He was bolstered by the fact that he was beginning to divert her attention away from the fairy tale story despite her resistance, his true purpose for being there. He knew it never bode well when someone under his patronage began to question being called names like Demon and Tyrant rather than taking it as the compliment that it was.

The names only proved her success because those pathetic, little mortals could hardly rule themselves, and the only way to give them the kind of rule they needed was to have a few bloodbaths here and there, which couldn't lead to names like 'Angel' and 'Benevolent Leader.'

The names could only work to their advantage in the long run, since it meant they obviously saw her as superhuman. It made her not only feared but untouchable, a fact that he would need to remind her of when she was in a more receptive mood and her feathers a little less ruffled over the name-calling.

And what exquisite feathers they were, he thought to himself as he tucked a piece of stray hair that was beginning to block her beautiful face behind her ear.

The Storyteller had certainly gotten the hair as black as shadows part right, but as he traced the softness of her lips with his thumb, he couldn't quite agree with the lips as red as a rose; it was much more accurate and enticing to say they were as red as freshly shed blood.

"Oh, but that's where you're wrong. You see, I don't just plan to take command, I intend to rule them all. And anyone who stands in my way, had better not grow bold or there'll be more than just two heads decorating the porch." She spoke, determined and hot against his finger, reading the question painted lithely upon his features as an eyebrow slightly rose.

"Oh, haven't you heard? I'm seriously considering having the Bard executed. There's just something about her that really gets under my skin. Can't imagine why?" The lines detachedly left with a smile, her lips now parted, allowing his thumb to explore, to excite his mind as her tongue slid over its surface, bathing and licking in pretty much all the right places before continuing her intrinsically informative speech.

"Anyway, I'll ready my ships tonight and have them meet me at Athens tomorrow. I suppose I can trust you'll be there, knowing you, you wouldn't miss it for the world. And if you do, then don't even think about coming back, or I'll have your head and everything below it as a trophy."

He laughed loudly, full of sudden mirth. "Sometimes I think you forget who you're talking to, my lovely Warrior Queen, but you can count on me being there."

He sobered again and reached out a hand and brought the dagger from the table with his godly power, seeing the excitement in her eyes that the action elicited.

He fueled that excitement further by slowly dragging the cold, flat side of the blade around her flushed face, across her creamy throat, and finally into her hand.

"Just one of those helpful suggestions I have if you want to put the Bard out of her misery. After all, she wants a monster for her story, so give her a slow death and make her happy."

As loathe as he was to leave with his body aching in need for her, it was important that she put this unpleasant incident behind her.

He backed away and smiled one last seductive smile before leaving her alone with the dagger in hand.


	2. Dungeons And Dragons

**~ Chapter Two ~**

**Dungeons And Dragons**

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Gazing down at the instrument, and with no more than a thought, she threw it furiously hard at the wall, taking great pleasure in the sound created upon impact while silently cursing his wretched name, or something dreadfully similar beneath the breath, disturbed to the brink with the guts this handsome man had to mention that one despicable word in her presence.

As much as those titles should have endowed their leader, somehow, Xena just couldn't find the complete joy in them.

Sure, of course she'd play along when the occasion called for it, aware that they held nothing other than power over the souls of men during times of battle, but lately and more and more frequently they had gradually begun to haunt her dreams, begging the question between morals of whether a person is only as bad as you make them or if there were actually something else to the picture.

"Open the gate." A slightly gruffer tonality demanded as she entered the dungeons, eyeing the Guard with a look that could rival Ares.

"I don't think so." His challenge charged the air, as if slapping her painfully across the face before setting about to walk away.

"Not so fast... Let's lay down a few ground rules. Until this is over, you're a dog on a leash. I say bark, you bark. And if I have to kick you, you'd better not bare your teeth. Understand? Or should I teach you to play dead?" She growled through clenched teeth, holding him firm in place, ready to strike at any second should this Idiot decide to pick a fight.

When no further announcement came, he was released with a push and two appointed phrases.

"Good Boy."

Clinking the keys, she finally stepped in, the words, full of curiosity, falling into the Bard's lap the moment they flew from Xena's mouth.

"That story you told, where'd you learn to talk like that?"

The Storyteller picked herself up off the hard floor and studied her Captor.

This was as close as she had ever been to the bloodthirsty Queen, and she was as intimidating as she had appeared sitting on her throne. In fact, she believed her words hadn't painted her in enough darkness; she had been far too kind.

She was so tall, so muscular, and her expression just so menacing, but all these things were nothing compared to her eyes. They were a startling blue, a blue that should have been pretty, but they only reflected hardness and cruelty.

The young woman suddenly threw back her shoulders and walked up to the Warrior. She was not afraid of this bully. After all, what did she have to lose now? Her life was already forfeit, and she was no mere cowering village girl; she hadn't been for a long time. She was Gabrielle, a woman whose words had moved the Empress even if it had been to rage.

"Does it matter? You're not here because I put a poetic spin to your life story. You're here because I had the guts to say what everyone else just thinks."

Briefly considering her options, the Warrioress chose to answer.

"Maybe so. I mean, the last person who volunteered to speak their mind is probably buried in Pylos, Sparta and Thebes by now? Though, contrary to what everyone 'else' thinks, I'm not as evil as the Witch they'd like to have you believe." She finished, displeased and yet at the same time amused by the Bard's valiant retort and attitude.

With one look, she could instantly tell this Woman standing before her was certainly different from the rest. Maybe it was the way she wore those rags, or perhaps it was the long blonde hair?

Xena couldn't tell, but whatever it was, it was like nothing she'd ever encountered before.

"So, does the Author have a name or shall I be forced to refer to you as nothing more than a prison rat?" She asked with a laugh while slowly circling the Girl, the armour shimmering like silver in the moonlight compared to the state of the cell.

Gabrielle held her head high, staring straight ahead all the while the Woman, who held her life in her hands, circled her like some sort of vulture.

"Do you always want to know the name of your victims?" She was baiting her, but she knew she might as well be taking a twig to a lioness in the middle of an open field.

Her mouth was always getting her in and out of trouble. Her mother had told her long ago that her mouth would be the end of her. It looked like she had been right, but it didn't stop her from continuing.

"But I'll humour you, your Highness," she gave a slight, mocking bow. "I think you should know the names of the people you kill; it can't help but make our deaths more real to you, can it, if we're more than just swine and prison rats. My name is Gabrielle."

This time when the Empress spoke, the words were soft and smooth, unlike the previous that only seemed to hold back a list of hidden memories from a time when men found the best entertainment in hunting a woman down for sport.

Lao Tzu was that all and too familiar reminder as she stopped to gaze at the Girl, capturing those sparkling green pools that'd somehow managed to melt a tiny shard of ice inside her heart.

"Gabrielle then. And no, it's only yours I wish to know. Besides, if I wanted to kill you you'd be dead already, but then, I don't murder women and children."

"I suppose that makes you noble? You murder the sons, the husbands, the brothers, the fathers, the grandfathers of those women and children, and often you kill men who have never even held weapons before you rode into their village, all because you thirst for power. Tell me, Empress Xena, where's the nobility in that"

"You make it sound so oppressive, and I'd love to tell you but I'm afraid I'll ruin the surprise. Though I'll take a stab and bet you know of what is, hmm?" Xena deliberately threw back, intrigued to discover Gabrielle's take on all that was true honour and glory; a side of the lesson she'd never been taught from Ares.

"You know, if I had to say it," she continued while removing her armour, just to raise her palms in defense seconds later. "Then I'd count every dinar you had a brother or husband that died perhaps while under my command if not in some pitiful village?"

A quick flinch and she knew she'd hit an extremely taut nerve with the Girl.

"Yeah, I can play too."

Hatred for this evil Woman rose up in Gabrielle like bile, making it hard for her to swallow.

It was just like Xena to think that this was all a game, but the Bard wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of knowing anything about Perdicus, and the truth was, it still hurt to think of him and of the time when she had still been innocent.

His death had changed her path in life completely, making her swear vengeance on the source of it all, the Woman in front of her.

"You want a definition of what a noble person is? It's when you bring good to people and not harm. It's when you can think and act above your own selfish needs and desires to the needs and desires of others. You cause harm to women and children as surely as if you had done them bodily harm, and I think deep down you know it. And if you don't know it now, you surely will when you're rotting in the pits of Tartarus for all the wrong that you've done. And Zeus help me, but I hope that day is soon."

Gabrielle could see that she hadn't even begun to chip at Xena's hard exterior with her speech. In fact, the Woman looked amused by it. Well, maybe it was time to get personal right back.

She thought about what she knew of her; the fact that she had gone after and slaughtered Cortese, a warlord, was no secret, and Xena had made sure everyone in the land knew of his crime.

He had brought his men to the Queen's own village long before anyone outside of Amphipolis ever knew her name. She had made an example of him by saying that no crime against her would go unpunished even if she had to spend years before the retaliation was complete, and no one doubted her word.

When Gabrielle had entered through the palace gates, she had seen a head tacked onto it with only the barest bits of flesh still clinging to its skull, flesh that the birds had missed, and given the place of honour it had received, she'd had no doubt that this head once belonged to Cortese.

She shuddered just thinking of the barbaric practice.

As if a torch had suddenly been lit in the Bard's mind, illuminating the past for her, she saw it all clearly.

She had thought the vengeful act against Cortese had stemmed from simple pride that he'd dared to go after her village, but she had never before wondered about the human qualities of the Empress and what made her into the way that she was, a first-class mistake perhaps for a Storyteller.

Xena had been a two-dimensional character in her mind, a character whose only excuse for being evil was that she was a Demon. Now the Storyteller believed she had her reason, not that she thought for a minute that it changed the fact that she was evil to the core.

"I get it now. You can see my pain because you know this pain, so who did you lose when Cortese came to your village?" For only a millisecond, Gabrielle saw past the hard veneer to the pain she had spoken of, proving her hunch had been correct.

"In your effort to destroy Cortese, you became Cortese, inflicting the same loss on others that he inflicted on you. How's that for irony?"

"Well look at that." The Empress sneered lowly in observation, clearly affected and threatened more than she'd declare by Gabrielle's close inspection over her life.

Never in a million years had she thought someone as tough as this Girl would be able to detect the pit of sorrow and pang buried deep behind her actions, and that vulnerableness, well, that particular part Xena wasn't quite so hot on exposing.

"You think I deserved what happened?" Her semi-rhetorical question followed shortly in suite, almost imploring for a reason to accompany the dryness of the Bard's sour use of irony, confusion and hurt however written thoroughly within her complaint before reverting into an expression of stone far deadlier than that of Medusa.

"You know, you've got some nerve mentioning Cortese, so I'll humour you." She finally agreed, becoming somewhat absent, distant even as the notes began to fill the pages missing from the Bard's scrolls.

"He was my brother, Lyceas. And these acts of selflessness, heroics if you will... my 'nobility,' to defend those people when they were either too frightened or weak to stick up for themselves, got him killed."

A hot tear that had been waiting for a long time now, was silently rolling down the Queen's cheek as a flood of suppressed memories started washing painfully over her mind.

She could see them so clearly, smell the dust in the air and hear the shrill of screams still leaving the throats of women as that Bastard striped everything down to the bone.

Rape and Pillage, it was always the same.

There was no show of mercy then either, not even as she stood guard over the people, and especially not upon Lyceas' death; her Mother's words still becoming that unavoidable echo of a drum beating hard inside her ears.

_"Go away, Xena. You're not welcome here anymore. We're not your people and I'm not your Mother."_

Gabrielle was momentarily stunned by the single tear; was it possible for this Woman to still feel?

She shook her head, ridding herself of the thought. She knew all too well that Xena was a master manipulator, and she wouldn't be drawn into feeling sorry for her.

The memory of Perdicus' lifeless and bloodied face, the heart-wrenching wails she had heard not only in her own village but other villages, and the dank and dirty cell she was in all spoke to who this Woman was now, regardless of what she had been and had felt in the past.

"Let me enlighten you further on nobility then. Sometimes you do the right and noble thing, and there is no visible or immediate reward, no crowd chanting your name, not even a simple thank you. Sometimes it even leads to a negative consequence like losing a loved one, but I'll tell you this, it's still worth it."

"Did you deserve what happened to you? No, I don't think you did, but I don't think those thousands of people deserved what happened to them by your hand either."

"And as long as we're still on the subject of Cortese, tell me, did his death bring you any peace? Did it bring back your Brother? Does it ease your own bloodguilt? What about Caesar?" Gabrielle knew she had hit another sore spot by the way Xena's eyes widened with anger at the last question.

"You set it up so that he was murdered by the betrayal of his Senate. Did that act change the past and ease the hurt you felt when he betrayed you?"

"Don't get me wrong. I have no sympathy for the men. They sowed evil, and so they reaped evil. And I am hardly ready for the Elysian Fields myself because I have envisioned your murder more times than you could count, but I know it won't redeem the past and it won't take away the pain that I have."

"I seek your end for the future's sake because this cycle of evil must stop and this loss of innocent life must stop. The land is choking with the blood that you've spilled, crying out for a voice to speak up against the injustice, and if I can give those victims that voice and inspire the people to throw off the heavy joke you have given them then I'll gladly spend a thousand years in this dungeon."

"Pity you won't have that long. But, since you wanna' be a voice for the people so bad, then here's a message for yuh." Whispered the sounds of a language all tattered and torn against the Scripter's ear as Xena leant forward, the sweet scent of her hair magically erasing the horrible stench of a recently deceased inmate parked unnervingly close in the corner.

"You want to know if Cortese's demise brought me any satisfaction or comfort? Well, I think we both know the answer to that one." She coldly stated while the thought of his head embellishing the entrance to the Lion's Gate promptly came to mind.

As significant as it was, the vision was a far cry from the truth, and Xena knew it. Destroying that Gorilla hadn't eased the pain or raised the dead, no matter how hard she wished it could.

"Dear old Caesar on the other hand is an entirely different side of the coin altogether. You didn't love... know him like I did, or have the privilege of experiencing the wrath of his desire for power. You people should be grateful. If I hadn't warned Brutus to beware the Ides of March, then you'd all be ants frying under the sun of Caesar's law. And trust me, if you think I'm a scream, then that's nothing compared to what Caesar would have ordained."

"Oh, by the way," she evoked, adding some additional spices to the news. "Tell those Losers at Athens that Xena's coming. Leave no detail untold and you may have your freedom."

Taking a few steps back, as if the Bard had suddenly caught fire and she was the fuel, Xena turned to the door, allowing the last few notes to tumble as she opened the gate; their rust-covered bars painting her hands in blood.

"Gabrielle, do you really believe people can change?"


	3. Hot Tin Roof

**~ Chapter Three ~**

**Hot Tin Roof**

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"_Do you really believe people can change?"_

The words still haunted Gabrielle even as she raced for Athens on the back of a horse. She hadn't been able to answer the Empress then and she still couldn't now even though she knew the words had just been a taunt.

The fact remained, however, that Xena had let her go even after she had clearly informed the Queen that she strove to overthrow her and told her many other things that had left her with perfect reason to get rid of her permanently.

Did she believe that people could change? Yes, she did, but she didn't think that all people would, and she feared that it was already far too late for Xena even with this one act of mercy in giving her freedom, but she couldn't help hoping it meant there was some good left in her.

She wished she had been able to get some help for the people of Athens, but she knew time didn't allow it. The Queen had given her a horse, but it had been far from the best in the stables, and it was a miracle that it had made it this far.

"Sorry, old Girl, but we can't stop." She whispered into the horse's ear as she felt its sweaty sheen, knowing she was riding it to the point of exhaustion. "I promise I'll take you to water just as soon as I can."

Unfortunately, they did have to stop though. Small boulders blocked the path and she didn't dare try to have the horse jump over it. She dismounted and found a sturdy branch that would help her pry them out of the way and send them rolling down the mountainside.

She accomplished the task with ease, a testament to how she had spent the last 3 years, and she could see evidence of her change from helpless village girl in her taunt stomach and her sinewy arms.

The rest of the journey was met without mishap, and she reached Athens while it was still dark.

As she rode in, she could see the hopelessness of the situation.

Athens was not without natural barriers. The Athenians had mountains and hills to surround their city-state on land. They also had the sea, but they hadn't bothered to build themselves a fleet for protection, only merchant ships and fishing boats were docked in its harbor.

Athens hadn't always been so defenseless. At one time, there had even been a wooden wall surrounding the city, not that it had saved them in battle then, but at least they had been trying. There didn't even appear to be a guard patrolling the streets, so she knew there would be no soldiers to be found. It was a clear sign of people who knew they didn't have a chance in Hades at defending themselves from the Destroyer of Nations and only waited for the inevitable.

There was no defense to be mounted, but at least these people could run, so she raced through the streets of the city, crying, "Flee to the Ends of the Earth! Xena is coming! Xena is coming!"

She rode up and down every street with the terrible news. People gathered in the streets. Some were disturbed from their sleep and others were already up with dawn waiting just below the horizon. She didn't have to tell them the destruction that awaited them if they didn't flee. Even children knew what 'Xena is coming' meant as they clung to their parents tightly, their fathers especially.

Just as surely as panic and fear were flying through the town with the speed of Hermes, back at the Palace, preparing for an all-out war was Xena, her troops already alerted and positioned for victory ahead of tomorrow as she strode proudly off towards the imperial baths, the previous conversation that had unfolded with the Bard singing a song of merry-go-round inside her head.

Seriously, did that Girl really think that the Greater Good could win against Evil and Hatred; that becoming a voice would actually convince the people to stand and fight when they knew the situation was utterly hopeless?

The thought fulfilled another backflip as she began removing her clothes, delighting in the waves of water as they gently washed over her silken form, hoping somehow it'd abolish the stain of an awful plague upon her hands, a resemblance to guilt perhaps, though Xena dare say it, when suddenly an exceedingly familiar presence from behind broke through the ether.

Ares smiled licentiously as he glanced toward her discarded armour.

Nothing turned the God of War on more than the sight of his Warrior Princess slashing bodies with her armour drenched in sweat and sprinkles of her victims' blood decorating her body unless it was the sight of this indomitable Warrioress completely exposed and vulnerable before him.

As he sat down on the edge of the tub, he noticed her hair was swept up and into a bun to keep it dry, leaving her shoulders bare and begging to be touched, so he placed his willing hands there and began to massage the area, feeling the knots of tension in her muscles.

"Still tense I see. You wouldn't be if you had disposed of her in the appropriate manner."

If there were anything in the world Xena despised more, then it would have to be being patronized, and particularly by Ares of all people.

She didn't doubt he'd been there listening though, snooping around for information as always, anything of interest to use against her whenever he saw fit, and right now, the God was doing a fantastically good job at implementing this notion.

"And give up a perfectly good reason as to have someone warn the Athenians for me? Pfft, not in this lifetime." She argued in contradiction, obstinately standing her ground with the stubbornness of a mule and the temper of a rhino, flipping him off without the slightest sense of hesitation while assimilating every touch of magic his fingers were weaving against her skin.

"Besides, she's got a gift for insight."

"Insight...?" Now it was Ares' turn to scoff. "That annoying, little Blonde? She has about as much insight as the Fates would without their loom."

"You're not jealous, are you?" The Warrior lightly teased, seeing right through the pane of glass he was building higher than the walls of Thermopylae, forever sensing that testament of worry and fear travelling within his tone no matter how hard he'd tried to cloak it.

This time, the ball was rolling in her court, and what a magnificent court it was as she decided to push it further, forcing him roughly out of his comfort zone in order to disclose the truth.

"What is it about her that's got you jumping worse than a cat on hot tin roof? Let me guess, could it be that Greater Good thing?" She divulged before allowing her hair to fall, their raven tendrils cascading with the grace of a waterfall.

He didn't answer right away of course, too distracted it seemed as he watched her long locks dance and weave on the water's surface, but when he finally found his voice, the words were brusque.

"There is no such thing as a Greater Good. It's only your will versus someone else's."

He moved her now heavy veil of hair back from her left ear, bent down until his mouth was next to it and whispered a challenge. "Are you going to let some snippet of a Girl impose her will on you?"

"That depends. Is it worth it?" The challenge arrived in reverse as Xena abruptly turned and rose from the water, completely enchanting him with a body of seductive features while her eyes intensely searched his own, seeking an answer that never seemed to appear when it came to the God of War.

"Is it worth it?" He echoed, not bothering to move from his seat on the edge due to the spectacular view he was now enjoying. "You tell me; you're the mortal. Was your Brother's sacrifice worth it? Was it worth hanging on a cross with broken legs because of that irrational sentiment called love? Was it worth losing M'Lila?"

He grabbed her wrist and twisted her arm in such a way that she fell neatly across his lap, an easier move than usual with the water and slick tub bottom; her eyes blazing from the action and the fact that he had dared to drudge up those memories, not that they hadn't been constantly on her mind since her conversation with the Storyteller.

"Don't let anyone trick you into thinking that people are separated by good and evil, light or darkness, noble or dishonourable. Those are absurd ideas that mortals like Aristotle play around with. People are only separated in one way: those that are strong and those who are weak."

Using his free hand, he cupped her chin. "I'll tell you what's bothering you right now. It's the chaos in this world, but you're already doing something about it by conquering the world, so that we can bring order to the chaos even for fools like your Messenger, or have you forgotten?"

Tired of the discussion and unable to resist the warm, wet body in his lap any longer, he fiercely captured her lips with his own, hoping that would be the end of it.

Oh boy, was Ares sure in for a surprise though.

He should have known from the start she'd never let him escape this easily, not without a proper form of excuse at least; the depth of their kiss already deepening into a wider world of colour, her low moans turning him impossibly harder by the second as she slowly and teasingly began removing his vest to lay a trail of exceedingly hot wet kisses on each newly discovered canvas of skin.

"Don't let anyone play me; you forget, that also means people like you... Gods and Goddesses alike; Aristotle's no different." She whispered the string of seductively deadly lines against his ear while rising from the water.

Another few and perfectly well executed moves, and she was sitting astride his lap, a chest now rubbing rousingly upon his with each bite or lick placed gently against her neck as an incredibly familiar looking knife was suddenly produced, its silvery blade tracing a fine path lightly across the God's heart as she slightly leant back, testing him as usual while the concept of bringing order through slaughter slashed creatively throughout her mind.

"So, weak or strong, which one are you? Could you live if I left, hate without love?"

Could he live without the Vixen in his lap? The unconsidered thought hit him with a startling force. In all the eons of existence, no mortal had ever dared ask such a question, but then, she wasn't just any mortal.

Dare he admit that she had become more than a Protégée or a Tool to wield in the playground of the Gods, even to himself?

The answer was a resounding no to both of the questions in his mind. If he gave her the least bit of inkling that he felt anything for her beyond what she could give and accomplish for him, she would use it against him as surely as the knife she now wielded in her hand.

He knew this because he had used love against the mortal women he'd had before Xena, not feeling it himself but using their love of war, and naturally therefore love of him, to get him what he wanted.

The surroundings behind them melted into his own bedroom in an effort to bring things back into his comfort zone. He slid out from under her and left her on the bed with the silken sheet covering her delectable form, wanting to show that he didn't really need her no matter how his body or heart protested otherwise.

"Gods and Goddesses do not toy around with meaningless ideas; they are ideas made flesh and bone, and all you have to do is look at my sister, Aphrodite, to see how weak and dimwitted love is. You don't need to ask about my strength. You experience it every time you ride in front of your army, every time you hold a weapon. You feel me racing through your veins in passionate heat during all your battles, and you feel the strength I bring when I hold you in my arms. You see the destruction I leave behind and the goals that I make happen. I won't deny love has its place in starting wars, but it can't finish them because it's weak. But I'm going to make this struggle that you're having easy for you."

He walked over to the door and opened it. It didn't lead to the hall outside his bedroom but back to her own palace.

"You can walk away from me now and see what life is like without war and the hatred needed to wage it. You can watch your army dissolve and watch the land revert back to a bunch of spineless but effective warlords like Cortese. Then you can see if love will keep you or anybody else safe."

He moved away from the still opened door back to the bed.

"Or we can forget this ever came up and indulge completely in what really makes life worth living tonight," he yanked the cover back, "and tomorrow in Athens, reaping results and not just pretty little words."

He held his hand out to her, waiting for her to accept or decline it. "Mortals come and mortals go. Empires rise and empires fall. So the real question is can you live without me, Xena?"

That Weasel, now he was giving her an ultimatum for a response, twisting words and reason to avoid some kind of fear or something, like a horrible nightmare they unknowingly seemed to share in the dark.

Well, maybe it was high time to lay down some philosophies of her own as Xena glanced silently towards his hand, a picture of deliberation sketched profoundly across her face in return before catching his gaze, just to switch back not a minute later.

"Don't confuse fate with desire. The answer's not if I can it's what if I could, and what you'd do then." The message came firm and strong while she shifted away from the bed, ignoring his gesture to examine the door and choose a dress; the crimson texture highlighting every curve and contour to perfection.

"You know war Ares; it's in your blood as it is in mine, so as a warrior I can't ignore that. But if you recall, i'm also mortal and won't have forever. So as a God, can you live with that?" She curiously inquired, turning around to address the stare and offer a smirk.

"When you're ready to indulge, meet me at the ball, I'll be waiting." With that, she walked through the door, defying his proposal to leave but an echo of her own behind.


	4. It takes Two To Tango

**~ Chapter Four ~**

**It Takes Two To Tango**

* * *

Ares' anger flared as he slammed the door behind her.

He sent the weapons on his wall flying to the opposite side, before pulling one of the misplaced swords into his hand and plunging it into the spot where Xena had been only moments before.

Feeling a small iota of satisfaction, he cooled down enough to reason. As frustrating as that Woman was, he wouldn't love her half so much if she wasn't a challenge to him.

If she ever left him, left the dark side, he'd spend every free moment and every scheme he could think of to get her back. The God of War never accepted defeat, and he would never accept Xena leaving.

If he had to kill the Blonde himself to prevent it, he would.

As for the mortal part of it, he fully intended on seeing to it that her life thread didn't stay that way forever. If anyone had ever earned ambrosia and a place by his side, it would be her, not that she was ready for it yet.

The thrill of the possibility of life and death during a battle excited her, and she wouldn't settle for less during her conquering phase, but one day she would be ready; he would make sure of that; he had spent far too many years on her to just hand her over to Hades.

He put his vest back on and smiled to himself.

So, she wanted dancing? Well, he would demonstrate to her just how much fate and desire were wrapped up together, and when the dance was over, she would be begging for him in every sense of the word.

As he materialized into the ballroom at the edge of the crowd and walked toward the Temptress in red, who waited for him in the centre of the room, the crowd made sure to give him a wide berth as if his very touch would send Celesta running.

Behind her once again, he placed his hands on her hips ready to start the slow sway to the music.

He was going to play dirty this time around; he was already sending heat from his hands that would go straight to her core.

"So, are you done with your tantrum or should I wait for the final explosion to crack you in half?" The tease in her voice couldn't help but post an appearance as the warmth of arousal gradually began to claim its victim, the heat of his fingers igniting a flame of power and passion inside her body as they slowly circled the room, each new step taking their extravagant little number to a whole other level.

One didn't need an Oracle to tell he'd been furiously mad with rage the second she'd walked out through the door, that part was pretty much a given with a God who had an ego the size the Aegean, which was precisely why, without the slightest shadow of a doubt Xena was particularly certain he'd bite, the whole idea of winning this game they were currently playing becoming more than just a simple battle of the minds for them.

Suddenly they locked a hand on each other's wrist and their bodies separated as far as they could while maintaining the hold before she was spinning back into him with such grace, precision and beauty that even the audience was seen green with envy.

Lifting both her arms in the air when her spinning came to a stop, he started from the top of her statuesque frame and glided his hands down the side of her body, matching his speed with the music.

"Why would I be angry? I know who I am, and I know what I want. No amount of words are ever going to change that." His tone clearly indicated that she didn't quite know these things.

"Is that what you tell yourself in order to rest at night? And do tell, how's it been working out for you lately, any progress?" Xena's smart-assed reply tipped over the scales as she chose to slide down, seductively caressing his chest, his belt and thighs in the process before drifting back up, the friction of their bodies creating a pleasantly erotic style of sensation between them as he spun her around, their torsos perfectly aligned in rhythm with the melody.

"Well, let's see. We've already conquered a third of Greece, we're going to crush Athens tomorrow, and I have the sexiest Woman, not only on the dance floor but in all the land, in my arms. I'd say it's working out pretty good." He said softly against her ear, not needing to crane his head in the least due to their melded position.

"Fantasies always do. As for Athens and Greece, you'll do well to remember that without the respect and devotion of those pathetic toy soldiers, you're just another God who relies on the others to hang out his dirty laundry, while the rest of world belongs to those of us determined enough to take it." Rolled out the carpet of royal reproach while their sensually performed tango began to take them higher, his powerful arms instantly supporting her waist as she was carefully lowered towards the ground.

"What separates 'I' from 'them,' isn't how strong you are, but the reality between knowing what you want and how to attain it without hindrance. You''ll go to Athens because War and Power draw you like a moth to the flame, and as long as they do, you'll follow me, my army and everything that comes with it." Fired off a perusing response from the Empress' mouth as he lifted her into a tighter embrace, his lips almost touching the surface of her dry but ever so inviting ones.

"You still don't get it, my Dear. I'm not just the God of War; I am War. I don't follow you; you follow me." His eyes glowed a fiery red with a white-hot centre, letting her see a glimpse of the danger, the hatred, and the power at his core along with War itself, though without the mortal trappings to cover it up.

Cunningly he shoved a leg between her own, teasing her through the fabric of the dress when he dipped her back, refusing to break eye contact while feeling her tremble ever so slightly from either passion at the position or from what she saw in his eyes, an ingredient however mixed likely of both.

"Then you won't mind if I put a hold on tomorrow. I mean, assuming I'll follow, you should have nothing to fear, right?" She breathed, flushing hot against the action that had caused hearts to pound and temperatures to rise, the tone of her voice making it difficult to decipher between truth or dare.

"Don't be offended, my Sweet. Mortals have their place, and you certainly have yours, but without me, without War, there would be no battle tomorrow or any other day, and where would that leave you; who would you be with no battles to fight?"

Rather than arguing some more or simply letting her catch a glint of what he was, he illustrated his point as he brought his lips against hers, and a fraction of what she had seen in his eyes travelled through his lips to hers, giving her a taste of the force within him.

The power of the searing kiss dropped her to her knees with the last beat of the music; she was too overcome to say anything else as they disappeared from the dance floor.


End file.
