HEARTS' HOMELAND TRILOGY

The waterfall was loud, drowning out any sounds other than that of the falling water as it pounded onto the wet, slippery, moss-covered rocks below. Suddenly, as she carefully picked her way along the tree-shaded bank of the pool below the waterfall, she knew she wasn't alone.

She'd come to this verdant oasis, several miles from the Amazon city to try and sort through her thoughts and feelings. Ever since her return from the near-disastrous journey to Mitraea several days before, she'd found herself in an unaccustomed and unwelcome state of turmoil.

Now her dryad forest-sense told her she was being watched by someone quite close by.

Slowly and leisurely, she reached down as if to attend to a loose boot strap, but instead unobtrusively drew her dagger from its sheath inside her right boot.

Quite suddenly, she spun around only to find a sword blade pressed tightly against the exposed valley between her breasts.

"Very good, my dear," Ares, the God of War, told her mockingly, without removing the blade.

Schooling her face into an expression of bored indifference, Kendaa remained still, although the blade was pressing sharply enough to pierce the skin and draw a small amount of blood.

"Ares. What do you want?"

Feigning disappointment, Ares slowly removed the sword and sheathed it at his waist.

"Not pleased to see me? Now that is disappointing. You wound me."

Kendaa laughed mirthlessly. "Stop playing with me," she told him coldly. "If you're here for yet another attempt to persuade me to serve you, you can forget it."

He was watching her expression intently. Waiting for the slightest indication of what was happening beneath that calm, indifferent facade the Amazon warrior habitually presented to the world at large. This time, he knew, he'd get beneath that surface. he knew something she didn't, and that pleased him to no end. For so long they'd played this game. he'd pursued her relentlessly, and at every turn she refused to serve him, as a warrior in his army, remaining obdurate in the face of reasoning, attempted seduction and outright threats.

Now he smiled slowly, thoughtfully. It was the smile of someone who had the upper hand, and Kendaa didn't like it at all.

He moved a slow step closer to her. "Actually, I've come for a different reason," he told her pleasantly. He paused before continuing.

"I've come to thank you."

The tall Amazon's heart suddenly and unaccountably started beating faster. She stamped viciously on the sense of alarm that was starting to make its presence felt.

"Thank me for what?" She asked him guardedly.

He took another step closer. Now he was inches from her face. Quite deliberately he leaned forward and whispered in her ear.

"Hephaestus was wrong."

He watched her face blanch before adding wickedly, savouring the moment, "I do remember, you see. Everything."

She stared back into those dark, unreadable eyes now so close to her.

For a long moment she couldn't say anything. No words would come, as hard as she tried to force them.

Finally she managed flatly, "So? You've thanked me. Goodbye," she added as rudely as she dared.

The God of War raised dark, considering eyebrows.

"Mmmm. So...let's see how indifferent you really are, my sweet."

Without warning, in a lightning fast move, he reached out and hauled her against his hard chest, his lips moving to claim hers.

The shock was so complete that her dagger fell from nerveless fingers to lie on the grass at their feet.

Every functional, thinking part of her simply shut down, while every single nerve ending erupted into tingling, vibrant life.

She stood still as his lips continued to plunder her mouth. This was the very thing she'd feared, with increasing apprehension, for several years. And that fear had grown all the greater since her imprisonment with Ares. That he remembered his second time as a mortal and the events that transpired, was something that she had never wanted to hear.

His lips left her mouth to slowly sear a path over her neck and shoulder. Her head fell back to further accommodate him and she swayed helplessly against the leather-clad chest, her eyes closed as she fought a losing battle with her instincts. The scent of his leather, the scent that was uniquely him just added to the overwhelming plethora of sensations surrounding her.

Long minutes later his mouth wandered back to reclaim her lips, with a gentleness that stunned her. When his tongue sought insistant entrance, her lips parted on a sigh, as she drowned in the sea of sensation surrounding her. Their tongues began a sensual ballet that sent urgent signals rioting to every part of her body.

After what seemed an endless period of time, the God of War raised his head to look at the passion-flushed face of the woman in his arms.

"Not so indifferent, I think," he told her mockingly, a slight smile on his face, his hands moving around to begin removing the top of her Amazon war garb.

His hands began their own onslaught on her. Having removed the sueded top she had been wearing, his hands moved to cup and tease her full breasts, his own eyes now almost black with the depth of his desire.

But somewhere deep within Kendaa, a tiny voice began to speak.

In a voice she didn't recognise as her own, she said, "Ares, stop. Don't do this. Please."

Dark, slumbrous eyes regarded her lazily. "You're pleading? One of the most formidable, hot-tempered Amazon warriors is pleading with me?" He laughed softly, his hands now moving around to move sensually and teasingly over her bare back.

"My dear Kendaa, I don't think so, I really don't."

She was breathing hard now. He knew he had her.

Desperately, in a last-ditch effort to stop what she knew would inevitably happen, the warrior woman reached out and planted her hands firmly on his chest. Forest-green eyes looked into the dark eyes of the God of War.

"This isn't right, Ares. I don't..."

His hands wandered up to the base of her head. His fingers tangled in her now-loose hair, and cupped her head. "Ah, but you do, my dear. And we both know you do. This has been building between us for a long time. Now comes the reckoning." Then his lips covered hers yet again.

This time, she knew she'd lost the battle. For long years she had ruthlessly tried to deny the perverse attraction she felt for Ares. She hated what he stood for, but as a warrior, respected him, albeit grudgingly. Yet during the time she had been imprisoned with him in Mitraea, she shocked herself by admitting that she was indeed attracted to the fierce, arrogant deadly God of War, especially in his mortal state.

And during her journey back to the City of the Amazons, she'd sworn to herself that that particular secret would be one she'd carry with her to her death. She'd been secure in the knowledge that Ares wouldn't remember the strange sense of intimacy they had shared, especially in the dingy cell in which they had been confined. It was as if Ares' mortal state had allowed them both to express, however tenuously, something that neither of them would ever, under any other circumstances, have divulged.

Ares' hands had wandered to her waist and were proceeding to untie the binding that kept her suede skirt securely wrapped around her, while his mouth was now moving over hers in increasing demand. As her skirt fell to the ground at her feet, and her slender, athletic form stood still, encircled by his arms, Kendaa suddenly knew that yes, this had to happen. If the world came to a sudden stop at that very moment, the Amazon woman would have been helpless to pay the event any heed.

In sudden capitulation, she reached out and took his head in her own hands, her lips now seeking his hungrily. Annoyed with the leather vest that still separated them, she impatiently tried to remove it. Equally as impatiently, Ares pushed her hands aside and shrugged out of his vest, and proceeded to remove his leather pants.

The world spun as they sank to the pleasingly cool carpet of grass beside the waterfall pool. Ares slid over her and parted her legs with his knee. almost urgently he entered her. If Kendaa hadn't known better, she'd have sworn he took her out of his own abject need. The warrior woman received him just as urgently and welcomed him, rising to meet each thrust. His hands were under her, moving over her back, just as hers roamed at will over his back.

Kendaa began to make small cries as they both moved towards completion, and just before the end, the deep voice of the God of War joined hers in crying out.

For some time afterward, they both lay still, Kendaa lying in the circle of Ares' arms.

The god at Kendaa's side raised his head, still-unreadable eyes looking down at her. "Who would have thought... You were...a surprise, my lovely Kendaa." He waited for a heartbeat before adding in a whisper, because he couldn't help himself, "And now you are mine."

The fair-haired woman in his arms turned her head and looked up at him, her own face calm. "Don't get carried away, Ares. I'm not about to start making sacrifices and worshipping in your temple. I still won't serve you."

He laughed quietly. "Don't lie to yourself, my perverse Amazon," he told her. "Whether you like it or not, you are mine. You just did serve me, and you served me very well."

Abruptly, Kendaa sat up, unmindful of her nakedness. "We served each other, Ares. And whether YOU want to admit it or not, there was more to it than there might have been if you hadn't experienced what it is to be mortal."

He laughed outright at that. "You mortals! How you do prate about your state." Finding refuge in sneering, and annoyed with himself for doing so, he continued. "Believe me, it's nothing to brag about."

Kendaa smiled at that. "You know, I liked you much better as a mortal," she told him imperturbably.

Standing, she began to pull on her Amazon's garb. As she finished fastening her skirt, she turned to find him already on his own feet, and already dressed, courtesy of a negligent hand wave.

Large hands reached out to pull her up close against him. "You like me well enough, my dear," he told her.

Looking into his eyes, Kendaa shrugged. "Perhaps. You seem to like me well enough, too."

He looked down at her in mock-resignation. "You do...amuse me."

"Really? I suppose it was amusement that had you trying to save me, even when you were on your knees before your mother, when it could have cost you your mortal life."

He shrugged negligently. "It suited me at the time."

Suddenly angry, she hissed, "Why can't you, just once, admit that even a god might have some feelings? Would it kill you? Ares, I've SEEN you with your guard down. And you DO have feelings, whether you want to admit it or not."

Dark eyebrows raised. "You dare much, my dear," he told her in a quiet, controlled voice dagger-sharp with warning.

She pulled away from his restraining arms, to stand straight and tall, her arms hanging loose at her sides. "Go ahead," she told him tiredly. "Do your worst. That's what you're so good at, threatening people. No wonder you're the most feared and hated of all the gods except for your mother!"

He didn't like that at all. His hand went to the great sword hanging at his waist, his own temper rising, although ihs voice remained deadly calm, his face almost impassive.

"Be warned, woman," he told her, his voice deceptively calm.

Now seething, she recklessly shouted, her head thrown back to stare up at him. "Oh go ahead! Do it! I'm sure we'd both be happy if you dispatched me to Hades!" Thoroughly enraged and fed up with him, and not bothering to see if he unsheathed his sword or raised a hand to destroy her where she stood, she turned on her heel and walked rapidly off, leaving him to stare after her, a thoughtful expression settling on his face.

She hadn't gone very far when she suddenly found herself anchored to the ground and unable to move at all, not even to turn her head. Closing her eyes in resignation, she stood and waited, incapable of doing anything else.

Fingers descended beneath her long hair onto her neck to draw a lazy path around to her face, as Ares circled around to face her.

"I didn't give you leave to depart," he told her calmly, latent and absolute power radiating out from him.

His fingers ran tantalisingly over her face.

"One day, my sweet, you will give yourself unreservedly to me. I promise you that. You've kept me waiting too long. I've destroyed mortals for far less than your continued defiance."

She simply stared back at him, although the certainty in his voice chilled her to the core.

"I'll settle for nothing less than your absolute and unconditional surrender," he told her, leaning close so she'd be sure to understand every word.

The Amazon woman responded from the core of her being. "Then destroy me now, Ares, because that's the one thing I'll never give you," she told him quietly, her voice calm.

Almost as an afterthought she added, "Truly, I miss your mortal form. You were more than halfway decent," she added sadly.

Abruptly he released her with the flick of a finger.

His face moody, he gestured with a sharp jerk of his head. "Go," he told her. "But this isn't over."

The sun was starting to set when Kendaa reached the City of the Amazons. Passing the Great Hall of the Amazons, she almost ran into TiaLessa. Lessa, a friend of the half-dryad, looked, and did a double-take, seeing the furious colour high on her friend's face. "What's wrong?"

Kendaa, her temper still well and truly up, bit out, "Nothing," before stalking off in the direction of her own dwelling. Lessa looked at her friend's departing back, loose blonde hair flying out behind her as she walked rapidly along. Shrugging, she turned and moved off to attend to her own duties. She knew when Kendaa had calmed down, she'd tell her soon enough what was troubling her.

But as the days passed, the half-dryad,half-human amazon didn't have to enlighten her sisters. It became obvious. Ares kept appearing almost regularly to seek out the tall, blonde warrior. More often than not, they could be heard shouting at each other for hours. Then, suddenly, silence.

On such occasions, many Amazons wondered if the God of War had in fury vaporised their sister where she stood. Yet, hours later Kendaa would emerge from her hut looking moody, agitated, angry or, increasingly, quiet, contained and thoughtful.

On one occasion, Calee, Arete and Lessa were returning from drilling the younger women in the training field. Kendaa was just ahead of them, having returned from her weekly stint at tilling the fields. While all the Amazons were warrior-trained, they all equally shared in all the many tasks that contributed to the subsistence life of their city.

The God of War appeared beside the tall Amazon, who looked none-too-pleased to see him, as he walked with her towards her home. As the three Amazon women watched, Kendaa suddenly yelled something at Ares, who retorted sharply in return. Still arguing, they entered Kendaa's home, from which yet again now came the sound of shouting.

Calee shook her head as she listened with fascination to the torrent of words being thrown back and forth, but now out of sight. "Well, I don't suppose it's everyone's idea of courtship," she commented wryly.

Arete laughed shortly. "It seems Kendaa is discovering the joys of being pursued by Ares. When he wants something, he never gives up."

"Yes, but this time...I don't know. I have a funny feeling. If she isn't careful, she'll push Ares too far and...," Lessa left her sentence unfinished, shrugging, but concerned for her sister.

Perhaps two months passed. Ares continued to visit the Amazon, and the Amazon continued to not give an inch in the strange dance they were engaged in.

Except when he touched her, which was often.

Then one day the shouting stopped. Kendaa stopped fighting Ares, much to the God of War's surprise. In fact, she did nothing, except silently receive him into her arms when he came. Whatever he said, however hard he taunted her, she simply responded with what he considered disappointing and irritating politeness.

The half-dryad became increasingly withdrawn, to the point where Calico approached her one night as she left her place at table in the great dining hall of the Amazons.

As they left the building Calico asked her quietly, "What ails you my sister?"

The tall blonde at her side smiled a little and shrugged, remaining silent for several moments, before replying.

"Nothing that nine months and a lack of battles won't cure."

Calico's head turned sharply at that, surprise written plain on her face, although she had no doubt who was responsible.

"Have you told the Queen yet?"

Kendaa shook her head. "No, but I plan to, tonight."

Calico looked up at the stars now beginning to blanket the night sky.

"Have you told him?"

At that, her sister laughed outright. "Do you really think he'd care, Calico? Just another one in a string of many, I suppose."

But Calico turned to face her, placing her hand on Kendaa's arm. "Listen to me, you have to tell him. Sooner or later he'll find out, and don't you think it would be better if it comes from you? He's not likely to forgive you if you don't tell him. And do you really want to be on the receiving end of his wrath?"

Her companion shrugged. "I don't know, Calico." She sighed sadly, and shook her head. "I suppose I will tell him, but not right now. I just need...no, I don't want to tell him yet. It wouldn't mean anything to him, you see, and..."

To Calico's great surprise, the battle-hardened warrior woman at her side had tears streaming down her face as she hastily said goodnight and moved off into the dark night to seek her bed.

The following day the Amazon warrior was appointed to the Queen's bodyguard, although she continued to carry out patrol duty, as did every Amazon of fighting age.

Then, a week later came the massed attack on the Amazon city by the satyrs, for no other reason than they were apparently, and stupidly, spoiling for a fight, and were willing to break the truce not so long ago reached between themselves and the Amazons.

All Amazons who were old enough were engaged in the battle. While it wasn't all that difficult to defeat the satyrs, there were many of them, and they were stubbornly determined.

The battle had raged for hours, and Kendaa had similarly raged up and down the corridor that separated the Amazon Queen and her bodyguard from the main body of fighting, although they had sporadically been engaged in some light fighting.

Her warrior's blood boiled and urged her to join the battle, yet her condition relegated her to the Queen's bodyguard. Never in all her years as an Amazon had she been forced to sit out a battle like this, although she knew, as did the sisters with her, that the Queen's bodyguard performed a critically-important duty. Yet, she was one of the city's lead warriors, and to be relegated to guard duty rankled and frustrated her no end.

Quite suddenly, as she stood to the Queen's right, one of the attacking satyrs charged the Queen, his club raised to strike. But Ephini and the members of her bodyguard were preoccupied with the fighting now coming closer to their left.

Kendaa didn't waste any time at all. With a loud war cry, she launched herself into the air in front of her queen, taking the heavy blow intended for Ephini full in the stomach. As she fell to the ground, she screamed in pain. Ephini and the rest of the bodyguard spun to see their sister lying writhing on the ground.

Ares, cloaked in invisibility, had been standing leaning idly against a tree watching the battle, a small, amused smile on his face. The smile disappeared and he abruptly stood upright when he saw the warrior woman take the blow and fall screaming to the ground. His teeth bared in a snarl, he raised his hand and thought a bolt at the satyr, who was preparing to re-launch himself at the Queen of the Amazons over the body of the writhing warrior.

The satyr vaporised.

Kendaa's body was dragged back behind the lines and Lady Pegasus sent for. After checking the stricken Amazon, she directed several of her sisters to quickly remove her to the infirmery, the battle notwithstanding.

However, in a relatively short time, the satyrs had been driven off, and with a heavy contingent of sentries at each gate, the Amazons began to clean up the relatively small amount of damage sustained by their city during the attack.

Hours passed, and in the infirmery Kendaa still writhed in pain. Lady Pegasus sent for Therese, another healer, who had been attending to some of the sisters wounded during the battle.

As night approached, several Amazons gathered outside the infirmery awaiting news of their sister. None had been forthcoming, apart from the first report from Lady Pegasus, that Kendaa was losing the child she had been carrying, and was suffering intense pain beause of it.

Lessa, RoseMarie and Calee were sitting on a log just outside the infirmery talking quietly when Ares was suddenly standing beside them, his face unreadable.

Lessa looked up, and inclined her head. "Lord Ares." She was one of several Amazons who held a particular devotion to the God of War.

Dark eyes stared down at her for a moment before his head raised itself to gaze at the curtain covering the entrance to the infirmary. "What ails her?" He asked without removing his gaze from the infirmery.

Lessa glanced quickly at her two sisters before returning her attention to Ares.

"She loses the child she was bearing," she answered bleakly. The words almost but not quite came out as an accusation, but she now had the undivided attention of the God of War for a long moment.

As it always was, his face was unreadable, but Lessa could have sworn something resembling pain flickered briefly in his eyes. But it - and he - was gone in the blink of an eye.

Throughout the night, Kendaa endured the sad and painful process of losing her baby. Towards morning it was over, and she lay still and silent. But Lady Pegasus and Therese were becoming increasingly worried as they looked down at her.

"I don't like this. Something's definitely not right," Lady Pegasus whispered to the other healer. Therese looked down at the blonde Amazon woman. Kendaa lay on her side, unblinking and unresponsive. She could almost have been in a trance. The healer looked up to See Calee, Lessa and RoseMarie standing quietly in the doorway.

"How is she?" Calee asked quietly.

Therese shrugged and shook her head. "We don't know. The bleeding's stopped, but she's...as one dead, only - her eyes are open." She stood aside so her sisters could see their friend.

They all tried to get her to respond, but to no avail. It was as if she had retreated to somewhere deep inside herself. The loss of a child wouldn't of itself cause such a condition.

For almost a week the warrior woman lay in her silent state, staring unblinking out at the world, but not seeing it so far as anyone around her could tell.

Lady Pegasus had just bathed Kendaa and brushed her hair when she turned from the bed to find Ares standing behind her. He looked from the woman on the bed to the healer. "Has there been no improvement?" He asked Lady Pegasus abruptly.

The Amazon woman shook her head sadly. "No, she lays as one dead. She won't respond to anything at all." For a long moment he just stared down at Kendaa, a thoughtful frown on his handsome face. Then he disappeared, leaving Lady Pegasus to mutter "Gods! No manners at all," under her breath.

Just after sunset, Lessa was returning from her period of patrol. She was about to enter the bath house when Ares suddenly stood before her. Stifling a yawn, she blinked up at him. "Lord Ares." He acknowledged her greeting with a slight inclination of his head.

"I want you to tell me of your sister, Kendaa," he began without preamble.

The Amazon warrior looked up at him in surprise. "Why?" She blurted.

The God of War looked down his nose at her. "The why of it needn't concern you, my dear Lessa. Just tell me about her. What she's like among her sisters...you know, at play... Does she laugh...what things matter to her... That sort of thing."

Lessa gazed up into those dark eyes, reflecting with regret that it had been too long since her last period of service at Ares' temple. She was drawn back from her reflection by the mocking voice of Ares. "When you're quite ready...?"

"Yes, my Lord," she made haste to respond.

So they walked in the deepening evening and she told him all about her sister, trying to give him a sense of who Kendaa was. The God of War listened in thoughtful silence, offering no comment at all during Lessa's dialogue.

When she was finished, the Amazon woman hesitated for a long moment, before deciding to add something else. She knew Ares wouldn't like it, but decided to take the risk.

"My Lord?" She began carefullly.

The dark god looked down at her. "What?"

"There's something else you should know. Kendaa has been suffering a lot of guilt these past several months. She...has been torn. Loyalty is perhaps her strongest trait, and she's felt divided, between her sisters and..." She stopped, waiting for the anger she knew was likely to follow. But Ares finished it for her.

"And me."

Much to her surprise, and relief, his voice remained calm.

Lessa nodded, and continued, choosing her words carefully. She had no desire to be on the receiving end of Ares' rage. "Forgive me, Ares, but I have to say this. The child prevented her from fully carrying out her duties to her sisters. That distressed her very much. She felt she was failing her nation. And yet..." She couldn't bring herself to say the rest. And yet she wanted your child, even though she would rather have died than admit it to anyone, even herself.

The God of War stared pensively down at the warrior, his eyes intent. "Finish it," he told her.

She shook her head. "It's nothing, Lord Ares."

To Lessa's surprise, he let it go. He smiled suddenly, reaching out to trace the line of Lessa's jaw. "You please me, Lessa. You always have. Would that others pleased me nearly as well."

He leaned down and kissed her lightly before fading from her sight, leaving her to ponder the "why".

Kendaa was alone and lying on her back, staring unblinkingly at the thatched ceiling of the infirmery hut when Ares appeared once more beside her bed.

He regarded her still form for a long time, his face unreadable.

"What am I to do with you?" He moodily asked himself more than the inert woman on the bed. He leaned down and took a thick strand of her fair hair in his fingers.

A sharp wave of his hand later, both the God of War and the woman on the bed vanished from the infirmery - to reappear in Ares' bedchamber in his great northern temple.

Kendaa lay on his bed still and unblinking, her spirit withdrawn to such a deep place within that even Ares couldn't sense her.

He slowly walked over to the bed and looked down at the still form, his face pensive. The simple shift she wore did nothing to hide the fact that she had lost weight during the past week. His eyes moved to rest on hers, the dark circles a drab, ugly colour beneath the normally brilliant gold-flecked green eyes.

If a mortal, much less another god, had happened by at that particular moment, they would have been astounded to see the look of deep pain, sadness and regret that passed across the face of the fearsome God of War. He lowered his eyes, deep in thought.

When he raised them again, he moved closer and briefly passed his hand over the woman on his bed. The vacant eyes closed as Kendaa fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. She would at least have a good night's rest, he thought. Tomorrow she was going to need every ounce of strength she could get.

Ares moved to gaze out the window at the sunset. Helios was making his final pass across the sky. He took a deep breath of the cool evening air. What he needed was a diversion. He thought briefly of calling for his nephew, Strife, but then thought better of it. Irritation wasn't what he needed. He supposed he could have commanded the presence of one of the woman currently serving in the Temple, but something in him recoiled from that, which annoyed him somewhat.

Impatiently he waved his hand and disappeared - to reappear in his armory a heartbeat later.

He walked to the wall containing a great range of swords. For several minutes he contemplated them through narrowed, assessing eyes, before slowly moving forward to select one with a particularly sharp, vicious edge. He nodded slightly to himself in satisfaction before fading from sight.

The morning came, and brought with it Ares' tall, leather-clad form, standing beside the bed containing the Amazon woman. She again lay with eyes open staring at nothing that Ares could see.

Drawing himself up, he stepped closer to the bed, the sword he had selected the previous night in his hand. He leaned down and placed the sword in Kendaa's limp right hand, pressing her hand securely around the hilt, and stood up and away from the bed.

In his coldest, most contemptuous voice, he hissed softly, "That's a sword. ...You do know what a sword is, don't you?" She gave no indication of hearing him. "No? Well, warriors - you know, men and women who know how to fight - warriors use them," he explained. "You used to be one, but you seem to have forgotten that. Never mind."

His voice slightly louder and now holding a taunting quality, he continued. "You will at least recall that I was responsible for the child you carried, but so carelessly lost," he told her coldly.

Nothing.

"And now look at you. A limp, wasted thing, of no use to anyone. Not to me, who trained you; not to your sisters, who relied on you to defend them; not to yourself. You've betrayed everyone, my dear. Me, your sisters, yourself, our child," he told her cruelly, his voice a soft but deadly dagger of contempt.

There was still no indication the woman on the bed had heard one word he'd said, but he continued anyway.

"Oh, and then of course there was your first family - your mother and all your sisters. You gave up then too, didn't you? After they were destroyed, you ran. You rejected your kind, dryad, your very heritage. You must be so proud," he sneered at her.

His dark eyes were now watching her closely, waiting for the smallest sign of life. "Well, my dear, gutless Kendaa, this is the end of a lifetime of failure. You are no longer of use to me. Today you die. Today you'll learn if it's Tartarous or the Elysian Fields," he told her in a quiet, deadly voice.

Now he moved slightly back from the bed, and unsheathed the great sword that hung at his waist. He pressed it against her throat, cold fury radiating from his face.

In a voice that reduced earth's darkest, most evil warlords to shaking piles of fear, Ares unleashed his fury on Kendaa.

"Get out of that bed and die like the warrior you once were!" Thundered the God of War at the Amazon. "Face me and die with at least the pretence of courage, you worthless excuse for a mortal!"

Something flickered in the depths of the dryad's green eyes.

Ares saw it. And immediately went in for the kill.

"You really are a disappointment. Except of course in bed. There you were...quiet magnificent. Perhaps you missed your true calling in life, my dear," he told her with cruel, mocking sarcasm.

Suddenly her eyes focussed directly on him. He could literally feel the rage beginning to boil up inside her.

"Get out of that bed and fight me! At least make your death count for something! I will not destroy a piece of limp, worthless carrion meat beneath my contempt!" He roared at her with sudden violence, moving his sword away from her throat now, and waiting, his sword twitching idly like a cat's tail, for the explosion he was sure was imminent.

It came.

With an almost demonic scream of rage, Kendaa launched herself out of the bed and at him, her sword aimed at his head, her fair hair flying around her head in wild disarray, her eyes now the battle-ready preternatural green he was so used to seeing. As he met her attack with ease - he was after all the master of all warriors - he laughed.

"Well met, my dear. There's some spunk left in that spineless body after all," he goaded her.

With a guttural cry she flew at him yet again, her sword intent on doing him grievous bodily harm. Again and again his sword came up to meet hers. She was very good - but then, he had trained her. If he had been mortal, he reflected, he would have been dead after the second stroke of her sword. he started pushing her hard then, his own sword lashing out with deadly intent. She snarled her fury as she brought her sword up in neat, precise defensive moves.

The clanging of their swords reverberated throughout Ares' great northern Temple. Priestesses and attendants stopped what they were doing to listen. They prudently decided to continue about their duties. Whatever the God of War was doing, he wouldn't appreciate any intrusion from his servants.

He sensed she was tiring, but instead of easing up, he just laughed again and pressed her harder. "Can't take it, can you? Perhaps you really should have gone into another line of work," he insinuated quietly, meeting one of her thrusts.

She screamed in utter rage, and continued to attack.

After some time, he could see she was very close to exhaustion. He stopped playing with her. With a sharp, neat circling motion, he lunged and sent the sword flying out of her hand to hit the far wall with a sharp clang.

He stood still and expressionless, not the slightest out of breath, silently regarding her. She was breathing in great gulps of air, her brilliant green eyes on him, the rage still burning within her.

For a very long, arrested moment, they stood like that, until her face began to change. As he watched, in total contrast to the mood of minutes before, she began to weep. Slowly she sank to her knees, her long fair hair falling to cover her bent head. Now she was sobbing, harsh, tearing sobs that rent the air in that room as sharply as just previously had their swords.

Ares blinked slowly, his dark eyes never leaving her shaking form.

Kendaa, lost in a world of terrible emotional pain, suddenly felt strong hands gently take hold of her arms and draw her to her feet. Still sobbing, she looked up as Ares brushed the tangled hair away from her face.

"I'm sorry," the God of War told the mortal woman in the softest of whispers, his own face bearing unaccustomed grief and pain. She knew he meant it. There wasn't a trace of manipulation or deceit on the handsome face so close to hers, only a type of emotion she had never expected to see. He drew her against him, his arms cradling her, her head resting on his shoulder.

How long did they stand thus, the half-dryad warrior woman, one of the fiercest of the Amazons, and the God of War, one of the twelve sitting Gods of Olympus, and feared slayer of warlords, armies and nations.

Time seemed to become irrelevant.

Kendaa grieved, finally, for so many things; for her lost family and race, for tracing a path that took her first from the dryad forest kingdom that had been the joy of her childhood, and later from the warmth and security of a hearth and home and had honed her into a battle-hardened warrior. She knew that was her true path in life, but at that moment she keenly felt the loss of a constant intimate companion in her life.

She grieved for the strange, paradoxical and impossible relationship she had with the being now enfolding her so warmly and gently, and last and perhaps most of all, she grieved for her lost child.

Ares also grieved in his own way. He reflected sadly and with great bitterness on the fate that was eternally his; his birthright to be one of the most feared of all the Olympian gods, born to send war to stalk and ravage the mortal world; born to order the very often cruel slaying of countless multitudes.

He recognised that the two occasions on which he'd lost his godhood and tasted, albeit completely against his will, the mortal state, had changed him. Perhaps for eternity. He had to admit a part of him rejoiced in it; rejoiced in the lightness of feelings, in the warmth of emotions that flooded him from time to time ever since he and the mortal woman in his arms had been imprisoned together in Mitraea - and even before that, when Xena had helped him regain his godhood after Sissypus had stolen his sword.

That was not to say he hadn't been confused by those feelings, which had felt like blossoms breaking through the sun-warmed earth during the spring thaw.

He remembered one occasion during his time as a mortal. After Sissypus had stolen his Sword and was offering it - and the godhood of war - as the prize in a contest, Ares had found himself defending his godhood as a sacred trust; an object of worship. It had surprised him to learn just how deeply he believed that to be true. For the first time in his long existence he actually felt free of the unending self-hate that always accompanied him. And he had liked that lightening of his spirit; he had actually liked himself for a little while.

He had also welcomed the surprising warmth he'd felt for the Amazon woman, Kendaa.

But even as he stood holding her, he was facing the inevitable. He knew what had to come, for both their sakes, and still despised himself for it.

Kendaa had stopped sobbing and was quiet now. Drawing on millenia of coldness, he gripped her arms and pulled her back from him. She looked terrible. Exhausted and in great pain, but not defeated.

He smiled at her in mockery.

"Feeling better now are we? My, but you do know how to wail, Amazon," he told her in a soft, entirely bored tone. "You have quite finished, I trust?" Aristocratic dark eyebrows were raised in a gesture only too familiar to the warrior woman.

He released her, and Kendaa stood back a pace from him and looked into his eyes. The old Ares was back. She nodded slightly to herself when she saw something else flicker deep within those dark eyes.

"Well?" He asked impatiently. "You do still have a voice, don't you?"

She smiled a little and somewhat tiredly at that. "Yes," she told him quietly.

He crossed his arms across his chest. "So, now you've cried yourself out, do you think you'll be able to manage pulling yourself together?"

Kendaa nodded slowly. "Oh yes."

He smiled, his best, most insincere smile. "Good! Then you won't mind if I banish you back to that tiresome horde you live with," he told her coldly. "I do have other, more pressing matters to attend to."

He raised his arms to send her back, but she stepped forward. "Wait!"

He rolled his eyes and sighed his irritation. "What now?"

Kendaa smiled slightly. Walking up to him, she leaned up and kissed him gently on the cheek.

"Thank you," she whispered. He simply stared at her, his face expressionless.

Then she stepped back in front of him and deliberately bowed her head in unmistakeable obeisance. "Lord Ares."

His lips parted slightly in surprise, although his face betrayed nothing as he raised his hand and sent her back to her sisters.

Two days later, Ares was in the temple throne room when one of the priestesses brought him a small garland of flowers that had been left as an offering; a scroll was attached to it.

The scroll contained just a few words; "But that still doesn't mean I'm going to serve you." It was unsigned.

The sound of Ares' laughter rang long and loud throughout his great northern temple.