TITLE: Mourning Glory

SERIES: Sequel to "Hollow"

AUTHOR: Scorpio

ARCHIVE: Yes to anyone who archives the prequel "Hollow".

FANDOM: Herc/Xena Verse

PAIRING: Cupid/Strife (implied)

RATING: R (adult situations)

CATEGORY: Angst, Dark Fiction

NOTES: This is a dark, angsty fic that deals with the aftermath of the Miscarriage of an unborn child.

WARNING * WARNING * WARNING * WARNING
Aftermath of a Male Pregnancy that resulted in a Miscarriage. Disturbing subject matter.

DEDICATION: For Shamenka, because she bribed me. ::winks::

SUMMARY: Strife, Cupid and their families react to the death of Glory, Strife and Cupid's (still-born) daughter.

Shifting Tides 2: Mourning Glory
by Scorpio

Hephestus finished polishing the specially made mirror. The glass was divinely smooth and the 'silvered' back was actually the thinnest possible layer of metal. The metal that bore his name. It was polished to a high sheen and it was enchanted. The mirror could not only reflect the images of the room it was physically in, but any room its owner wished to view.

It was to have been a gift for his step-grandaughter. Glory.

Ignoring his two squirming and groaning 'guests', the God of the Forge set the mirror atop his workbench and waved his hand slowly before it. Midway through the motion, the reflected image of his hand wavered and faded...only to be replaced by another scene altogether.

Settling his large and aching frame down on a sturdy bench, Hephestus focused his concentration on the image of a small village's marketplace...and the dark haired leather clad Goddess who walked unseen between the mortals.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Eris, Goddess of Discord, slowly followed the slim blonde girl with the strawberry highlights and big green eyes. The girl, almost a woman, was sweet and innocent. Her mind was full of silly dreams of noble heroes and sappy romance and her heart was generous and open. Beautiful in her face, body and mind, she was the epitome of everything her despised father craved...and then abandoned once used.

But not this time.

Eris would stop Zeus from stealing his pleasure from this woman-child. She would be better served by being killed than to be allowed to suffer the fate that her father had planned for her. And it would steam the old goat's beard to have her slip from his grasp. Especially if the two most powerful families, both fanatically loyal to Zeus, were to accuse the other of such a heinous crime.

Waiting until the blonde girl was alone, Eris materialized behind her and stabbed a plain dagger into the girl's back to the hilt. Her aim was true, the heart and lung both pierced. The young woman let out a soft cry of surprise that turned quickly to a groan of pain. Then, she slid silently to the floor, dead.

Retrieving her dagger, Eris flexed her power and suddenly, there were two of them. Each identical, even down to the bloodstains.

A grim smile of satisfaction on her face, Eris prayed to her Uncle Hades to greet the girl personally on her entrance to the Underworld and then she slipped away. She had to plant the daggers as evidence and then spread the rumors that would lay the blame at two different men's feet. Each powerful. Each a loyal follower of her father.

What's more, she wanted to be done with laying all of the groundwork in this particular village tonight. She had many many other towns and villages to visit...and each one contained some beautiful gilded blonde haired youth.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Nodding his head in approval, Hephestus waved his hand across the surface of the enchanted mirror once more. The scene shifted once again.

This time, it was not a dark haired Goddess, but his own beloved wife that appeared.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Aphrodite walked through the streets of Athens silently. Her magic cloaked her presence from the mortals swarming around her as they bustled about their day. Each one's soul was laid bare for her eyes and she could see deep inside, to their very heart, with ease.

That one, over there, was a follower of Athena and that one, with the scrolls, was her father's. Each person bore the invisible marking of whichever deity claimed them as worshippers.

Smiling with grim determination, Aphrodite began her self appointed task.

As a tall woman with a sharp nose and a flowing green wrap-around dress shuffled by, The Goddess of Beauty and Love reached out and ran gentle fingertips across her forehead while whispering softly in her ear. "See beauty no more." The follower of Zeus stumbled and then dropped to her knees, her hands flung out before her in panic. Then the woman began to wail in fear as she realized that she was blind. Darkness surrounded her.

Aphrodite walked away from the crumpled woman with the ruined eyes and came upon a thin man with closely shorn dark hair. Once again, she reached out with gentle fingertips and brushed his forehead. This time her soundless voice instructed, "See not, the lies of Zeus." That man also stumbled. However, he did not crumple to the ground, instead he exclaimed for all to hear, "It all makes sense now!" and then dashed away to grab quill and parchment.

And so it went, as Aphrodite wandered the large city that held one of her father's larger temples, periodically cursing or blessing various mortals...depending on who their patron God or Goddess happened to be.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The struggling in the background grew more pronounced, but the Fire God ignored his captives easily. He had more important things to concentrate on.

Waving his hand before the mirror once again, the image wavered and faded, only to refocus on a man in armor standing high up on a set of stone stairs. Throngs of armed men and severely dressed women stood in the square below as they cheered him and supported his cause. Hephestus grinned wider and shifted the view slightly to take in the dark form of the God standing at his side.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Ares stood, a fierce smirk that spoke of a vast anger and an overwhelming bloodlust twisting his handsome features. Invisible to the mortals around him, he merely allowed his ravening hunger for bloodshed and violent retribution flow from him, tainting the General and his army as well as the Spartan city dwellers that supported him.

Mesatonia was a city-state much like Sparta, but there were several major differences. Sparta was a city of warriors and they were loyal to Ares, almost to a fault. Mesatonia was a city of scholars and poets, the loyal servants of Zeus. Ares wanted Mesatonia razed to the ground, and then he planned to salt the earth there with his own bare hands.

"...and we shall *wipe* those scum from the very face of the world and work tirelessly until all mention of their very existence is stricken from all records. We shall be *victorious* and the blood of our Lord's enemies shall run red in the streets!"

Row upon row of armed and armored warriors banged their shields with spear and sword alike. Throngs of women and children whistled and shouted in glee. Official scribes and Quartermasters ran about, already organizing various troops, equipment and food.

Ares' smile grew more fierce and his eyes were black as pitch as the Spartans declared holy war on the doomed Mesatonians.

And it was all in the name of Glory. A being Ares had been forever denied the pleasure of holding and loving and cherishing.

Heads would roll for that. Literally.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The thrashing behind him had increased a lot and was now accompanied by groans and muffled pleas. The God of the Forge turned slightly in his seat to see if his 'guests' needed to have their gags tightened. Seeing that they were both still secure, Hephestus turned back to the mirror.

Waving his hand across its surface, the image changed once more. When it became clear, he watched with his heart breaking as his beloved stepson sat on his throne in his own Temple. It was almost eerie, it didn't even *look* like the Temple of Love and Romance anymore. Then again, The Fire God had never seen it when everything within had turned black and deep crimson...including Cupid's wings.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The God of Love sat upon his throne, his face twisted into an expression that had frightened his priests into fleeing. His normally soft and smiling lips were set in an arrogant sneer and his normally laughing green eyes were haunted. Grief stricken.

He had heard the whispered rumors. Had seen all the timid looks and curious glances.

Insane.

They say that he just...snapped. Broke. That he was becoming too much like his father and was drifting away from his mother's influence. They whispered and whispered, but they were too frightened and shallow to come to him personally. Cupid wasn't too sure exactly *who* "they" were, but he could hear them. Whispering, whispering.

And slowly, love turned to obsession. Healthy desire burned away in the searing fires of cruel lust. Innocent romance was lost under possessive manipulation.

Outside the darkened temple of Cupid's city, the citizens rioted in the streets under the influence of the divine energy pouring off of their patron God. Virgins were torn from their homes and brutally raped. Battles between friends and family erupted as jealousy grew unchecked and violently raging husbands battered their terror stricken wives.

Alone in his temple, Cupid sat and cried.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The Fire God cringed back in horror. He feared greatly for his stepson's sanity. Unfortunately, Ares would only encourage this emerging aspect of Cupid's personality. However, Hephestus didn't think the world was ready for an insane God of...not love, but Obsession.

Shaking his head sadly, he waved his hand over the mirror again.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Hera shimmered into view in the middle of the palace throne room. Tall floor to ceiling windows let in bright sunshine and the casements were opened, allowing the salty breeze blowing in off of the sea to help keep the large stone chamber airy, light and cool. Brightly dressed courtiers milled about the periphery of the throne room, gasps of surprise and expressions of fear marring heavily painted faces, but she ignored them as beneath her notice. Instead, her attention was riveted on the stately King and Queen sitting on their matching thrones.

"Hear me King Personious, blood descendant of Persious and Andromeda, and by this claim, descendant of Zeus himself. I am Hera, Goddess of Childbirth and Marriage. Upon your line I lay a curse, that the fruits of your loins may wither on the vine and grow no more. Never again shall a child of your house be born. The women barren, the men sterile."

A wave of powerful energy sizzled out of her body, washing over everyone in a ten-mile radius. Each person that had even a drop of Persious' blood within his or her veins became cursed to a life with no children.

She stood there, regal and imperious as abject horror washed over the faces of the mortals who cowered before her. Her heart would have broken for them...if it hadn't shattered into a thousand shards when she had been forced to help her beloved grandchild deliver a baby already dead. It was then, at that moment, that she decided to end the line of every one of Zeus' bastard children.

If *Strife* was forbidden the joy of having children, then so was the old goat's bastards.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

One final time, the Fire God changed the image reflected in the mirror. This time when the blurring cleared, it showed a shockingly thin God swathed head to toe in a jet black velvet cloak that was wrapped tightly about him and with the hood pulled down low over his face.

An expression of sorrow washing over his gruff face, Hephestus wondered if Strife even knew where he was. The Fire God would bet his last lump of iron ore that the young godling didn't have a clue.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

He wandered aimlessly. He had no destination, no goal, nowhere he had to be...nor did he *want* to be anywhere. He merely was.

He was pain. Suffering. Anguish.

Hollow.

The only thing he could see was an image burned into his mind. The image of a beautiful baby girl with green eyes, black hair...and white wings. It was a lovely face, a beautiful face...a dead face.

Crowds of mortals shifted around him, an ever-changing ebb and flow of faces and voices. They couldn't see him any more than he could see them. It didn't matter anyway. Nothing mattered.

Every now and then, a mortal would walk into his invisible body. The mortal couldn't see him and he was not watching where his feet were taking him. He merely pushed past the mortal and continued his journey to nowhere, oblivious to what he was leaving behind him.

If he had taken the trouble to look, or if he even *cared* to know, Strife would have seen a trail of broken mortals. Each and every person he had inadvertently touched had felt his pain and torment, had delved into his sorrow and hurt. And shattered.

Wailing, screaming lunatics littering his wake, Strife wandered on, searching for nothing and going nowhere.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The squirming behind him intensified suddenly and then a loud angry voice pulled him from his contemplation of the mirror.

"Have you lost you *mind*! Hephestus! Let us go! Now!"

His face a mask of anger and grief, the Fire God turned to look at his captives. Xena had managed to work her gag lose, but that was it. Hercules' was still in place, and they were both still chained to the walls of his workroom with his own special chains. Hercules face was almost beat red with anger and Xena looked almost as frantic.

"No Xena. I haven't lost my mind, and I'm not letting you go."

A confused look washed over her beautiful features for a quick moment, but then her face slipped back into the indignant mask of arrogance that she wore like armor.

"Why? What did we ever do to you? Why have you captured us and brought us here?"

Hephestus smiled as gently as he could and gestured to the mirror.

"That's why. I don't have any quarrel with either of you, but I *couldn't* let you interfere and try to stop them. What they are doing *needs* to be done."

Xena paused for a moment. Her anger and her curiosity battling each other. Finally, curiosity won.

"But why are they doing whatever it is they're doing? For what purpose? To what gain?"

Hephestus' smile faded away only to be replaced with a look of extreme sadness and remorse.

"For the Goddess Glory."

Xena tilted her head slightly to the side in confusion and even Hercules stilled his useless thrashing about.

"Um...there is *no* Goddess named Glory."

The Fire God looked her directly in the eyes.

"Exactly."

END
Mourning Glory