Title: Sacrificial Vows

Author: Scorpio

eMail: scorpio71@earthlink.net

Archive: WWOMB only.

Fandom: Herc/Xena

Pairing: Ares/Joxer

Rating: NC-17

Category: Drama/romance

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Joxer (Ares does), I don't own Ares (Ares does). I'm not out to make Dinars (I know better than to partner myself with Sal...)

WARNING: NC-17 (A/J) This story contains adult situations and graphic descriptions of male/male sex. If this isn't your cup of tea,... don't drink it.

SUMMARY: Chapter 1 in the Sacrificial Vow series. Ares gets bored until Joxer proves to be an interesting distraction



Sacrificial Vows
by Scorpio


Chapter 1: Blood Sacrifice

A bored Ares finds the time to finally see and understand Joxer

Ares lounged across his obsidian Throne, one black leather covered leg thrown carelessly over an intricately carved armrest. His darkly seductive features were drawn into a fierce scowl while His strong graceful fingers toyed almost absently with a finely balanced and razor sharp dagger.

The Temple was quiet and empty due to its remote location and the lateness of the hour. That gave Ares time to think. Even if He wouldn't admit it to anyone else, He was honest enough with Himself to acknowledge that He had come here to brood. Ares gave a deep sigh as He absently tossed the polished blade into the air and deftly caught it once again.

The God of War considered His `problem' as he continued to toss and catch the deadly weapon he toyed with. Ares was bored. That was a very real problem with immortality, whether you were an immortal demi- god or a full fledged God. Days became years, which then became decades. Decades blurred into centuries, and the centuries rolled by in an endless precession. It became increasingly difficult to find new and interesting challenges to face and conquer. Existence became an endless repetition of a set series of situations. The details, names of people and places changed, but inevitably, the basic elements were the same.

Few, if any mortals, could even begin to understand how much He cherished and adored those few beings who brought relief to the monotonous `now' of His existence. Some of His favorites were His daughter Xena, and His half-brother Hercules. They, of course, topped His list of enemies. Then there were those among His worshipers, with Caesar of Rome and Darius of Greece topping that list.

Ares had spent the better part of the last several years throwing the two most ruthless and ambitious mortals, one a frighteningly intelligent and well bred General, the other a savage and brutal Warlord, into a series of battles, traps, and even a few truly horrifying bloodbaths. Neither man had ever seriously disappointed the God of War.

When Ares hadn't been encouraging His Greek and Roman warriors into battle, He had turned His attention to the two demi-gods that shared His blood. His half-brother and His daughter were both a source of terrible frustration and great pride for Him. While they could never truly defeat Him, they had both proven themselves capable of surviving traps, destroying careful planning and strategy, and solving mind boggling puzzles.

Although He would violently deny it until the Gates of Eternity finally rusted shut, Ares often secretly feared that one of them might actually die during one of their many battles. He knew that as much as He would enjoy their defeat in the short term, He would eventually miss the excitement and rare challenge that they provided Him in His endless monotony. Ares sighed again as He continued to brood.

The God of War wasn't sure how long He had been mired in self-pity (although He would have personally flayed anyone who referred to it in any way besides `silent contemplation') when He heard the heavy iron doors of His Temple slowly swing open. With a thought, Ares made Himself invisible to mortal eyes and glanced with disinterest towards the front of His Throneroom.

The mortal who entered was not who or what He had expected and He looked again. The man was no one prominent or even `up-and-coming' and yet he felt familiar to Ares, almost as if He should know him. The mortal walked towards the Altar in front of the War God, bringing himself into the reddish light of the braziers on either side. Ares took in the young man in the ridiculous and pitifully ineffective armor. And that helmet! Whoever made that helmet should have been drawn and quartered in Ares opinion. After all, bad taste could only have so much free reign in the world before it must be punished.

Gently and carefully, so as not to damage the fragile mortal mind, Ares let a suggestion seep into the mans thoughts. A heartbeat later, the man removed the silly helmet and dropped it to the polished stone floor. Suddenly, Ares could see the mans face and true recognition set in. Joxer?

Ares mind whirled a million miles a minute as He watched Joxer slowly step up to His Altar and kneel. Joxer had prayed to Him all his life and he came from a long line of powerful Warlords. Ares sighed silently to Himself and wondered what had happened to make Joxer the way he was. Namely: clumsy, awkward, uncoordinated, and well,... gentle.

Joxers total devotion to Him, and his families good standing with Him had made Ares place Joxer under His protection when the young man had finally left his fathers keep. A suggestion to a Warlord here, a nudge to a bandit-chief there had kept him safe. Finally, Ares had simply arranged it so that Joxer ended up in the care of Meg. She was a lush and exotic woman who ran a `den of iniquity' that many of his warriors frequented. Ares had been only a little surprised when Joxer had turned to `whoring his services' instead of becoming a cook like intended, after all, the dinars flowed more freely in the bedroom than the kitchen. However, He had been very surprised when Joxer soon became the favorite of not only Meg's girls, but of many of His warriors as well. Still, the War God hadn't given it any more thought. Joxer was happy playing with both the girls and the boys between the sheets and he was safe from harm. Not even the stupidest warrior would maim the best cocksucker in town, if for no other reason than his fellows would slit his throat in retribution. Then something went wrong.

Joxer became enamored of a young warrior in Ares service and they spent most of their time together. Soon after declaring their love for each other, the warrior was killed during a village raid by a farmer with a pitch fork. Joxer immediately left Megs without a word. When Ares found Joxer, he had acquired the ridiculous armor he now wore and was trying to convince everyone, himself included, that he was a true warrior. With an eye towards frustrating His wayward daughter, the God of War firmly planted the idea in Xenas head to place the whore turned warrior-wanna-be under her protection. Joxer was safe once more and Xena and Gabrielle were both irritated. Mission accomplished.. He had thought no more of it. Until now.

Ares turned His attention back to Joxer. The mortal was kneeling before His Altar, his open and honest face clearly showing his frustration and pain. It was the face of a man who had given everything he had towards a goal and had truly failed. It was the look of heartbreak. It touched something deeply buried within the War Gods soul. He found Himself honestly listening to Joxer for the very first time. Always before Ares had merely recognized Joxers devotion and combined with the services of his family, He simply made sure Joxer was being looked after and left it at that. But now. Ares focused his attention on the mortal kneeling before Him, opening His eyes, ears, and mind to that which He had always ignored.

The God of War was treated to a powerful wave of emotional trauma battling with sheer determination as He let Joxers inner turmoil wash over Him. Ares easily recognized the anger, frustration, and doubt. What was unusual in one of His worshipers was the fact that these emotions were all turned inward. Joxers self image was painfully low and yet his opinions of others were optimistically high. It was an unhealthy, unbalanced world view. Pulling away from the mortals emotions, Ares tuned in to what he was saying.

"...no longer want to be a warrior for my father or Jett. I know that I'll never get their approval, so I sorta stopped trying. And as much as I like Xena and Gabrielle, I don't want to be a warrior to try and impress them anymore. I know they only tolerate me most of the time, but... I guess I can't blame them for not really liking me. I don't even like me."

Ares barely noticed Joxer shut his eyes tight and take a deep breath. His soul felt as if a knife had been plunged into His heart at the mortals words. The God of War knew with great intimacy the pain of being almost universally hated, to be tolerated simply because He was impossible to ignore. But Ares knew something that Joxer did not. Ares knew what it felt like to be feared and respected as well. His ears focused instantly when Joxer began to speak again.

"I guess the real reason I'm here is for me. I still want to be a warrior, but,... I want it for me. I want to serve You not to please my father or to impress people, but because I want to serve You."

Joxer opened his eyes again and looked at the Throne where Ares sat, cloaked in invisibility. Pure devotion blazed forth past all the pain, humiliation and frustration.

"I don't know if You are even listening to me, but... Ares, You have been the only constant in my whole life. Nothing else matters anymore. I want... I need..."

Joxer closed his eyes once more and wearily hung his head, "I would do anything to be a warrior. A true warrior. Your warrior."

In a shower of blue-white sparks of pure energy, Ares allowed Himself to slowly become visible even as His voice echoed across the stone Temple. "Anything?"

Joxer visibly flinched and began to tremble slightly, but he managed to brace himself and look up into the eyes of his God. Ares was impressed. Most mortals tended to fling themselves at His feet in utter terror or run for the hills in a deep seated panic.

In a voice tight with fear, Joxer spoke, "Yes Ares. Anything."

Looking into Joxers eyes, Ares saw a terrible need. A need for something more, something meaningful. He felt His own soul responding to that need with a hollow ache. The God of War felt the decision being made deep inside Himself and for a brief second, He wondered if He was doing this for Joxer or for Himself. Violently, He pushed that errant thought away.

"Joxer, all true warriors must make an offering of pain to Me."

Ares watched the look of uncomprehending confusion settle across the young mans open face.

The War God kept His handsome features set in a stern mask with effort. "A blood sacrifice." He clarified. "Made to Me, on My Altar."

Ares could clearly see Joxers face go pale even as his heart thundered wildly at the very thought. The God of War expected the young mortal to either faint or run away. Again, he surprised Ares.

Swallowing loudly around the lump in his throat, Joxer replied, " I... I... Okay." He closed his eyes for a moment and swallowed again. "If that's what You want Ares, I'll do it. For You."

Ares could feel waves of emotion pouring off of Joxer. Determination and hope battled with fear and self-doubt. Ares, usually indifferent about such things, silently hoped Joxer was up to the task Ares was about to lay before him. He could now see Joxers potential, but he had to prove himself worthy of a miracle.

Ares pulled His leg off of the arm of His Throne and sat forward to look directly at Joxer. He let a serious, business-like expression come across His seductive features. "Joxer."

The mortal looked Him full in the face. Fear, lust, and finally devotion flashed across his mobile features. His entire being was riveted on Ares, he was hanging on every word, every movement.

"Joxer. To be a true warrior. One of My warriors. One who fights only in My name and for My glory requires three things." Ares paused for a moment and Joxer nodded his understanding.

"First, a warrior must spill blood in My name. On one of My Altars." Joxer nodded again. "Second, a warrior must come to understand the true nature of War." Joxer swallowed around a lump of fear in his throat, but nodded once more. "And third, a warrior must accept a gift which will bind him or her to Me." Ares fell silent and watched as the information filtered into the mans mind.

After several long minutes, Joxer spoke, "I. I want to be a warrior. I. I will do it."

The God of War nodded slowly. "Take this." With a bright flash of energy, the polished dagger in His hands disappeared only to reappear on the Altar in a similar flash. "Return to this Temple in one week. When the moon is hig over head, use that dagger to perform the Ritual Spilling of Blood." Ares saw Joxer stare at the blade with wide fearful eyes. "Or simply return it and walk away."

Ares made Himself invisible in another shower of blue-white sparks. He watched in silent contemplation as Joxer reached out with a trembling hand and picked up the dagger. The mortal stared at it for a long moment before turning and leaving the Temple.

Once Joxer was gone, the room seemed suddenly empty and cold to Ares. He was about to will Himself to Olympus when He noticed Joxers helmet laying forgotten on the black stone floor. Ares grimaced. That ridiculous helmet. Figuring that if Joxer passed his tests, Ares would never allow him to wear it again, or conversely, if Joxer failed his tests, Ares would never allow him to wear any armor, it was safe to get rid of the silly and offensive thing. With a thought and a flex of power, the God of War blasted the helmet into dust. Feeling better than He had all day, Ares willed Himself to His home Temple on Olympus.

~~~

Ares had spent the week practically obsessed with Joxer. At first, He went to the Halls of Time within Zeus's Palace. It was there that He discovered the source of Joxers bungled coordination skills. Joxers father had come home from battle one night to find his wife in bed with another man. The Warlord had slaughtered the fool instantly and then proceeded to beat his wife senseless. Banishing her from the bedroom, the enraged Warlord had flung her nearly unconscience form into the nursery where his twin infant sons lay sleeping. Her unresisting body had slammed violently into one of the cradles, knocking it to the floor. When the infant Joxer tumbled out of his cradle, his skull was cracked. Permanent brain damage set in, dooming him to a life of gracelessness and severely limited hand-eye coordination.

Great potential trapped within a damaged mind. The God of War thought long and hard about how to fix Joxers coordination should he pass his tests. Finally, Ares found a solution and went to see Heaphestus.

Ares figured that with that out of the way, He could put Joxer out of His mind. His obsession would not leave Him be, however. He often found Himself contemplating His sudden decision.

Ares could have simply granted Joxers wish and made him a fairly decent warrior and sent him on his way. Instead He had offered Joxer true power. Skills and knowledge that must be earned. He had offered Joxer a place among the elite. A chance to become, not just a warrior, but a Warrior Priest. But why? What was it about Joxer that had gotten under His skin?

The God of War didn't know if He should smile in happiness at the thought of Joxer, or if He should just blast something to pieces. So, He alternated. Sometimes He smiled, sometimes He destroyed. And much to His annoyance, He repeatedly found Himself in the Halls of Time reviewing Joxers life over and over.

When the week finally drew to a close, Ares was relieved. He choose not to examine the reasons for that too closely. He just kept telling Himself it was due to His recent bout of boredom, that Joxer was simply an entertaining distraction. He also choose to ignore the fact that He had deliberately worn His favorite outfit that day. The skin tight, yet soft and supple black leather clung to Him like a second skin. He didn't need a mirror to know that the mere sight of Him would push a mortal into equal parts fear and lust. He was, after all, the God of War.

~~~

Ares lounged across His obsidian Throne cloaked in invisibility. He wasn't sure if Joxer would pass his tests, but He had taken precautions, just in case. He wanted privacy if things worked out as He hoped. Since His nephew was the only being insane enough to interrupt Him, He had simply sent Strife on a mission. The demented Godling usually amused Ares, but Strife wasn't the God of Mischief for nothing. If anyone could put an unwelcome wrinkle in His plans, if was Strife. With that last precaution taken care of however, Ares got comfortable and waited.

The time was right and Ares began to think that Joxer wouldn't show. The War God was a little startled at how disappointing that thought was. He closed His dark eyes and flexed His power. When He opened them again, a large oval mirror floated in the air before Him. With a thought and a graceful sweep of His hand, the mirror began to glow. The glow intensified to a bright flash. When it faded, Ares seductively handsome features had been replaced with the reflection of a single man walking across an open meadow.

With a thought, the view shifted and the War God could clearly make out the moon drenched details of Joxers face. Fear and doubt contorted his features, but determination and resolve shone from his eyes. Ares dagger was held firmly in one hand. The God of War almost smiled. It was then that He made note of one other fact. Joxer was alone. Cold disappointment curled in Ares stomach and He banished the mirror with a negligent wave of His hand.

He almost willed Himself from the Temple, but at the last second, He changed His mind. He wanted to hear what Joxer had to say. He wanted to know why Joxer had no sacrifice to Him. With His nerves stretched taunt and His patience wearing thin, it felt like an eternity before a very subdued Joxer pushed open the iron doors to the Temple.

Ares watched silently as Joxer walked over and knelt in front of His Altar, the polished dagger held firmly in his right hand. Softly, in a voice filled with adoration, Joxer chanted a hymn in praise of the God of War that he had learned as a child. Ares could feel the strength of Joxers devotion to Him, yet the man had no sacrifice. Despite His sour disappointment, He felt intrigued by this odd mortal who refused to do things the way they had always been done.

Ares was broken from His musings when Joxer suddenly stood up. The mortal was silent for a moment as he stared at the gleaming blade. A flood of emotions ran rampant across his honest face; fear, uncertainty, determination, devotion, and finally settled on a look that Ares recognized, but had rarely seen aimed at Him. Love. Once again, Joxer had shocked Ares.

Joxer pulled Ares from His thoughts by laying his empty left hand on the Altar. With a deep breath to steady himself, he began to speak.

"Ares,... I,... I don't know if Your even listening, but... I mean. I hope Your listening,... It's just,... well... this is important and..."

The War God grinned despite Himself. He decided to comply with Joxers unspoken request to announce His presence. Instead of flashing into visibility, Ares flexed His power slightly. The softly glowing coals in the twin iron braziers on either side of His black marble Altar suddenly erupted into six foot columns of flame. Heat waves radiated out to instantly warm the now well lit Throneroom. The six torches set in the iron wall sconces, three on each side of the room, spontaneously burst into flame two by two down the Throneroom walls. When the last pair was burning, the fires in the twin braziers calmed to their normal sedate glow.

Ares used the natural acoustics of His stone Temple to allow His darkly seductive voice to echo around the violently trembling mortal. "Welcome to the Temple of War Joxer."

"Ares..." Joxers voice shook with a mixture of fear and longing.

The God of War waited while the young man visibly composed himself. He forcibly resisted an unexpected urge to comfort Joxer. This evening needed to play itself out. Ares was suddenly sure that something important was about to happen. He just wasn't sure what.

With an effort of sheer will, Joxer swallowed around the lump in his throat and ignored the thundering rush to his heart. "Ares,... I ..." he swallowed again.

"I didn't bring a person with me to sacrifice because, well... even though I could have grabbed someone while they were sleeping and tied them up, I,... well I,..." he blushed furiously in the ruddy light. "Well, I guess I just couldn't bring myself to kill a helpless person."

"Then I thought about an animal. I know I could do that, but..." he trailed off again as his blush returned. "Well,... I sorta figured that an animal just wasn't good enough. Not for You."

Ares raised one perfect eyebrow in surprise. He did have a preference. While He would except an animal, He always preferred humans. Most mortals never considered that. They just assumed any blood would do. Joxer was refreshingly perceptive.

When the War God looked at him again, Joxers eyes were closed, almost as if he were listening to a silent voice whispering in his ear. When Joxer spoke again, it was in a whisper.

"I thought long and hard about what to do. I couldn't kill a person in cold blood and You deserve better that a chicken or pig. Then I realized exactly what it was You said. And what You didn't say."

Taking a deep breath to steady his courage, Joxer plunged on, "You said You required an offering of pain, a spilling of blood on Your Altar. You did not say You required a death." Ares other eyebrow shot up at this unique interpretation. It was true, death was not required, but Joxer was the very first mortal to realize that.

A look of resolve settled over Joxers mobile features and he continued in a now steady voice. "You asked for an offering of pain and blood, so I will give them to You freely."

In an act of utter devotion to his dark God, Joxer gripped the dagger fiercely in his right hand. With a swift movement, he wrapped his left fist around the razor sharp blade and squeezed tightly.

"I do not offer You death." He said in a voice tight with pain. "Instead, I offer You life. I willing sacrifice all that my life could have been, would have been, so that I might use it as a tool. A tool to serve You." With that, Joxer violently yanked the blade from the warm flesh in which it had been sheathed, gasping at the sharp pain.

Joxer carefully opened and closed his left fist, watching with morbid fascination as his own red blood pooled there. Then with a slow, calm movement, he titled his hand, letting the precious liquid spill down in bright drops to splash against the surface of the black polished Altar.

The romance, the devotion, the eroticism, the pain, the scent of blood, and the total denial of self that Joxer had so freely offered hit Ares in an almost physical wave of desire, even as the words burned their way into His soul.

Longing, desire and need for this mortal rose up within the God of War with a strength that He had not felt in ages long since past. With the scent of fresh blood in His nose and Joxers devotion radiating into Him from a pure and untainted soul, Ares felt Himself grow painfully hard with the burning desire to bury Himself within the young man. Shifting slightly to ease the sudden tightness in His leather pants, Ares flashed into view in a shower of blue-white sparks.

Joxers eyes widened at the sight of his God appearing before him, but he didn't flinch away. Instead, he looked directly into Ares eyes. The War God was impressed by this display of the mans inner strength and courage, and He let a smile settle onto His handsome face. Joxers sharply indrawn breath and the musky scent of his growing arousal informed Ares just how much His smile affected the warrior before Him. He was very pleased.

With a bright flash, Ares disappeared from His Throne, only to instantly reappear in another bright flash standing directly behind Joxer. The mortal stiffened in shock for a heartbeat, then forcefully relaxed his tense muscles. Ares reached around Joxer to gently grasp his bloody left hand. Slowly, He turned it over so that it was once more palm up.

"I accept your sacrifice of pain and blood." He whispered into the young mans ear. He allowed Himself a small smirk at the light shudder that ran through Joxer at His words.

Gently, so as not to damage the fragile mortal, Ares turned Joxer so that the man faced Him. He captured Joxers eyes with His own and held them with His will. With a slow deliberation, the God of War raised the bloody offering to His face and ran His tongue across it in a gentle sensuous lick. Ares dimly heard Joxers moan of desire as the taste of blood exploded in His mouth.

Ares senses reeled from the pleasure. Joxers soul was pure, untainted. His heart was true and his devotion unselfish. All of this was there, contained within the coppery taste of Joxers blood. All that Joxer was, his essence, his soul, was given freely to Ares in the form of the rich red blood which decorated His Altar and ran down His throat. Ares found Joxer to be unutterably beautiful. His desire for the warrior doubled, He swallowed another mouthful of blood sucked from the open wound and His desire doubled again.

A low moan of pleasure spiked with pain drew His attention back into the Temple. Indulging in a last tender lick against the wounded palm, Ares healed the cut with a thought. He was careful to leave a vivid scar as a constant visual reminder of this night. Joxer gasped as both the pleasure and the pain left him at once. The mortal was trembling again, but Ares knew it was no longer from fear.

"Are you ready for the second test Joxer? The test of knowledge?" Ares seductive voice was a husky, low murmur, filled with dark longing.

"Yes."

Looking deep into Joxers eyes, with the taste of blood lingering on His tongue, Ares made another decision with His heart and once more left His head behind to wonder. Each time before, when Ares and a warrior had enacted the Ritual of Blood Sacrifice, Ares had conjured a silver chalice of sweet white wine. Mixing in a single drop of His immortal blood, turned the wine bright red. Consuming this elixir would grant the warrior visions and transfer knowledge and skill. Suddenly, it did not seem enough. Joxer deserved more and Ares wanted to give it to him.

With a violent clenching of His strong jaw, Ares bit down upon His own tongue. Sharp pain flashed through His skull for a quick minute before fading away. His mouth rapidly filled with the taste of His own blood, and He quickly grabbed hold of Joxer and pulled the trembling warrior to Him. With a tenderness that contrasted erotically with the fierceness of His embrace, Ares leaned forward and kissed Joxer.

Joxers startled gasp soon turned to a moan of pleasure. Ares took advantage of his open mouth to thrust His tongue within the warm wet cavern. Ares could feel the shudder run through Joxer as the blood from His mouth poured into the young mortal. Joxer swallowed the red liquid which was Ares.

Desire, both physical and emotional radiated like heat from Joxer. With an aggression born of lust and devotion, Joxer captured Ares willing tongue and sucked on it, drawing more of the sweet blood into him. Joxer swallowed another mouthful, and a moment later, he swallowed another. Finally, with a moan of indescribable pleasure, he swooned. It was only Ares strong arms around Joxer that kept him from crashing to the stone floor.

The God of War arranged the limp form upon His Altar with a worried frown etched into His darkly beautiful face. Always before He had offered a single drop of His blood, strongly diluted in white wine to His most favored warriors. What would three mouthfuls of the pure, undiluted blood of the War God do to a mortal?

Ares could feel a tumult of emotions wash over Him in wave after wave and He knew they were Joxers. He looked at the young warriors face and could see his eyes moving rapidly to the visions behind his closed lids. He could also feel the familiar energy of His own blood inside of Joxer. It was a strong vibration since Joxer had drank more of His blood than any warrior before him.

Placing a tender caress alongside Joxers cheek, the God of War turned with a heavy step and walked in silence to His dark Throne. Making Himself comfortable, He sat in worried contemplation, waiting for Joxer to awake.

~~~

It had taken longer than Ares had hoped, but quicker than He had expected. As the sun finally peered over the mountains to the east, and it's first rays hit the Temple, Joxer stirred. The warrior woke slowly, rising through layer upon layer of visions and newly acquired knowledge.

Ares watched in tense silence as Joxers open and honest face easily revealed his thoughts and feelings. Ares knew from experience that mortals usually settled upon one of two emotions once their conscience, waking mind filtered and absorbed the knowledge He implanted within their subconscience with His blood. It was almost always bloodlust or horror. He hoped Joxer would surprise Him by once more proving to be unique.

Ares was not disappointed. Many emotions played across Joxers features. One after another. Fear, anger, hatred, despair, lust, triumph, caution, determination, admiration, and doubt. But instead of settling into a final look of horror or bloodlust, it was a look of understanding. Joxer understood the true nature of War, better than any mortal before him. He understood and he accepted it with all his being. When Joxer sat up on the black marble Altar, he looked at Ares with eyes that were no longer innocent, but that were still full of devotion. Devotion and Love.

"Ares..." His name on Joxers lips caressed Him with velvety passion.

Ares drew a serious look upon His seductive features with difficulty. "Joxer. We have come to the end of the second part of the Ritual. I have given you the knowledge of War and the skills for battle."

Joxer nodded slowly at the pause. "Now you must decide if you can live with that knowledge. If you can, I will make it permanent and bind you to Me forever." Ares paused again to let His words sink in. At Joxers nod, He continued. "If you feel that you can't live with the knowledge, then I will erase it from your mind and you can walk away as if this never happened."

Joxer didn't even hesitate. "The knowledge is a great burden, yes. But it is not too heavy. I still want to serve You. Nothing could change that. I lo..." Joxer swallowed. "I am Yours."

Ares smiled. Joxers calm and quiet acceptance was a true measure of his inner strength and beauty. His desire for His warrior grew once more.

"Come to Me Joxer." His dark voice smooth like honey. Joxer awkwardly climbed off the Altar and made his way to the Throne with something less than grace. Ares silently vowed to Himself that after the Ritual was complete, Joxer would never have to battle the brain damage that corrupted his coordination again.

When Joxer finally made his way to the Throne upon which Ares sat, he sank to his knees before the God of War. In a sudden flash of intense light, a massive Sword appeared in Ares strong graceful hands. The Sword glowed with a palpable aura of power and a pure tone shimmered in the air, not unlike the sound of a silver bell after it had been lightly struck. The expression on Joxers face was one of awe as he looked upon the symbol of Ares Godhood.

Gripping the massive Sword of Power in both hands, Ares placed the flat of the blade upon Joxers forehead. "Do you, Joxer of Greece, agree to swear fealty unto Me, Ares, God of War? To serve Me even until the end of Time?"

"Yes Ares. I do."

"And I, Ares, God of War, find this mortal, Joxer of Greece, to be worthy of service. Upon the Sword of Power, do I claim you to be a Warrior in My service, even until the end of Time."

At those words, the Sword of Power began to glow brightly once more. The glow suddenly rushed up the length of the blade and unto Joxer. Slowly, the light sank beneath the warriors skin.

Ares watched Joxers eyes close tight as the sensations of His Mark settled into him, became a part of him. For a heartbeat, Ares thought he might faint again. With a flex of power the War God sent His Sword back to the Halls of War and replaced it with an iron circlet.

"I have placed My Mark upon you Joxer. Ordinary mortals won't be able to see it, by My worshipers will, even as you could see My Mark on others before. And of course, any immortal, God or demi-god will be able to see it."

Joxer nodded thoughtfully at those words. Suddenly, his trademark boyish grin surfaced, "Good."

Ares chuckled at the wave of happiness that rolled off of His newest Warrior Priest. The mortals naturally good humor was swiftly reasserting itself and Ares found it oddly contagious.

"And now for the last part. The gift." Ares help up the iron circlet for Joxer to see. Crafted on the forge of Heaphestus, the plain iron circlet was lined with black leather and a single, blood red stone was inset into the front. With gentle care, the War God placed it on the head of His Priest. He didn't tell Joxer, but the magick woven into the circlet would erase the effects of the brain damage caused by his fall to the stone floor of his nursery as an infant.

Ares watched, entranced, as a shiver of energy swept through the young warrior when the spell settled over him. "Oh Ares..." he moaned.

Once more, the sound of His name on Joxers lips sent a wave of desire coursing through Him. A wave which firmly settled at His cock. Unbidden, the memory of Joxers soft full lips upon His before the warrior had succumbed to the visions, returned to Ares. His arousal grew. He allowed His desire to show upon His handsome face. Ares could clearly sense Joxers reaction to that look, and the warriors desire only added fuel to the fire of His own passion.

Ares reached out and slowly trailed His fingers along Joxers smooth shaven cheek. His warrior leaned into the gentle touch, a low moan of pleasure humming in his throat. Ares traced a callused thumb along Joxers lower lip and the warrior gently sucked it into his mouth. A shudder of pleasure ran through Him as Joxer first licked and then tenderly nibbled at it. The promise of further pleasure was a temptation Ares was eager to explore. Slowly, the God of War stood up before His kneeling Warrior Priest, allowing him to see the black leather covered evidence of His desire. Joxer did not disappoint.

With a soft sigh of longing, Joxer leaned forward into Ares. He nuzzled his face into his Gods crotch even as he slowly trailed his exploring fingers up the leather encased muscular legs. Joxer ran his hands up Ares thighs and across His hips, then over His flat stomach towards His chest. The warrior traced His leather covered erection with his mouth and moaned in pure pleasure.

Joxer looked up at Ares, a combination of devotion and lust in his eyes, "Please..." he whispered. With a thought and a graceful sweep of His hand, Ares removed His leathers, sending them to the Halls of War. A half second later, Ares banished Joxers ridiculous excuse for armor to Tartarus, since Ares planned to never let him wear it again. He looked down with a smile to see Joxer wearing nothing but his iron circlet and a smile.

He heard the soft gasp of delight from His warrior as Joxer gazed up at the perfection of His naked body revealed in the ruddy light of the braziers. He could feel the sexual desire of His Priest slam into Him like a blow from a War Hammer.

Joxer reached up with both hands and trailed his longer fingers across Ares muscled chest. The gentle caresses left swirls of tingling pleasure along the War Gods skin as His warrior memorized His every line and curve. Those tender touches teased a trail of desire down to His chiseled abs and across His sensuous hips. The warrior slid his hands along the outside of Ares strong thighs, only to sweep around His knees and bring them back up along the sensitive inner thigh muscles to His throbbing erection.

Finally reaching his goal, the warrior ran his tongue up Ares thick, hard shaft. When he reached the swollen head, he swirled his tongue around it twice before delving into the weeping slit to capture the pre-cum gathered there. "Mmmmm..." Joxer hummed his pleasure at the exquisite taste, and a shiver of desire ran down Ares spine.

Ares titled His hips forward slightly, silently demanding entrance into the wet heat of His Priests mouth. Joxer, eager to obey, opened his lips wide and slid down onto the War Gods pulsing shaft. He bobbed up and down on Ares cock a few times to loosen and open his throat muscles. Sucking and licking on every stroke, Joxer was finally able to take the God all the way in his throat, until his nose nestled in the black curls. Ares closed His eyes at the sweet pleasure.

Ares eyes flew open once again as He felt Joxer take His hands and place then on his head. With a lust filled grin, Ares wrapped His fingers tightly in Joxers hair and thrust deeply into the warriors mouth. Joxer didn't choke or pull away at the rough treatment. Instead, he moaned in pleasure and the vibrations ran like lightening along the length of Ares shaft.

With His own moan of pleasure, Ares began to fuck His warriors mouth with abandon. As He thrust His cock in and out of that wonderful mouth, Joxer continued to give Him the blow-job of the century. Joxer ran his tongue along the sensitive underside of Ares cock on each stroke and he sucked and swallowed at the head with each thrust. Ares was dimly aware of Joxers hands tracing the contours of the muscles on His body. Hands worshipping His back, chest and legs, even as the mouth worshipped His throbbing cock.

Ares thrust harder and faster as He felt the pressure building up in His balls and shaft. Joxers hot, wet mouth was wonderful and He didn't want this to end, but He knew that He was close to the edge. Suddenly, Joxers wandering hands clamped down on His nipples, squeezing them hard. The sensual pain shot through His body like wildfire straight to His balls. With a harsh cry of pleasure Ares thrust down Joxers tight throat and came. Hard. As He shot His creamy load into His warrior, He was dimly aware of Joxer pulling back slightly to catch His seed on his tongue. Joxer swallowed every drop of the precious liquid, sucking and licking his beloved God clean.

When the last of the aftershocks had faded, Ares looked down at the naked warrior kneeling before Him. Joxers lips were swollen and slightly bruised. His pale skin glowed in the reddish light with a thin sheen of sweat. His tousled and tangled hair twinned in Ares strong fingers. Head tilled back and up to gaze with love and longing at Ares as he kneeled in quiet submission, his own erection painfully hard between his legs. The God of War was once again struck by the beauty and inner strength Joxer possessed and He felt His desire begin to grow once more.

Ares almost asked where Joxer had learned to do that so well, when He remembered about the time Joxer had spent working for Meg. An errant thought crossed His mind and Ares wondered what else the warrior had learned during his employment at the Whore- house. He was determined to find out.

Ares released Joxers hair from His graceful fingers. He ran those same fingers tenderly down the side of His warriors face. Joxer, once more, leaned into His touch. When Ares reached Joxers chin, He gently lifted, guiding Joxer to his feet.

Ares got His first good look at Joxers body. He was pleasantly surprised by what He found. While not heavily muscled, what Joxer did have was toned and tight. His slender frame was well conditioned from his travels with Xena and Gabrielle. And as Ares was about to discover, what Joxer lacked in sheer strength, he more than made up for in stamina and endurance.

The God of War pulled Joxer into His arms and captured his mouth in a deep passionate kiss. Ares could taste Himself in Joxers mouth as their tongues battled. Joxer molded himself tightly against the War God, his body a burning heat along Ares skin and the straining erection stabbed against His thigh. His blood stirred deliciously as Joxer slowly writhed, rubbing his skin sensually along Ares body, as if to silently beg for more. Joxer put every once of devotion and desire into his actions and it was the most erotic kiss that Ares had experienced in decades. He moaned into His warriors mouth and leaned forward, overbalancing them both.

Ares felt Joxer stiffen in His arms, expecting to hit the hard stone floor. Instead, they landed on a soft bed, covered in black silk sheets that Ares had conjured out of the air with a thought. It took Joxer a quick moment to recover the breath that Ares weight had knocked out of him, but when he did, Joxer leaned forward to capture the War Gods lips in a kiss. When Ares opened His mouth to Joxers tongue, His warrior responded by opening his legs wide under Him. Ares moaned with pleasure as He felt Joxer wantonly thrust up into His growing erection.

Ares desire continued to build as Joxer writhed in need beneath Him. The Priests hands traveled lightly across His back to His firm ass. Their hard cocks rubbed erotically, hot flesh against hot flesh. Ares suddenly pulled away from Joxers hungry lips and body to kneel between his wide open legs.

Ares looked into the face of His warrior and saw naked lust tempered by loving adoration. He saw the desire to please and the need to be possessed. With a flex of power, Ares conjured a bottle of oil out of the air and poured some out onto His hand. Without a word, Joxer pulled his wide-spread legs up and tilted his hips towards Ares, silently offering himself to the God of War. Ares found it to be an erotically and wantonly beautiful sight.

Ares ran the tip of one oiled finger teasingly around the entrance to Joxers body. Joxer let out a low moan and pushed back against Ares finger, trying desperately to impale himself. Ares smiled and pushed His finger in past the tight ring of muscles. Joxer moaned in pleasure and flexed his internal muscles, caressing Ares finger in a promise of what was to come. Ares almost bit through His lip at the display of skill. No wonder he had been such a popular favorite at Megs.

Ares quickly but thoroughly stretched and loosened Joxers tight muscles. His first finger was followed by another. He thrust them in and out, delving deeper and deeper. Ares inserted a third finger and pushed inside Joxer as far as he could, brushing against His Priests sweet spot. Joxer pushed back at Ares fiercely, a low rumble of pleasure deep in his chest.

Ares removed His three imbedded fingers and Joxer whimpered at the loss. Quickly, Ares oiled up His thick cock and took careful aim at Joxers entrance. The warrior tried to push back and impale himself on Ares, but the War God had a firm grip on his hips. With excruciating slowness, Ares buried Himself deep within Joxers body.

Hot! Tight! Pulsing! Alive! Joxer!!! Ares hands gripped His warriors hips in a bruising clench of muscles as He struggled with His self control. After a long moment of backing away from the edge of release, Ares opened His tightly shut eyes and looked at Joxer.

It was an amazingly beautiful vision to see His cock buried balls deep inside of Joxers writhing body. It was one He was sure He would never tire of seeing, and He knew right then and there, that He planned to enjoy this treat again and again.

With slow sensual movements, Joxer brought his legs up and over Ares strong shoulders while flexing his internal muscles to massage the wonderfully thick cock in his ass. A moan of pleasure escaping His lush lips, Ares pulled back until only the throbbing head of His cock remained in Joxer. Shifting His angle slightly, the God of War thrust back in. Joxer gasped and pushed against Him as Ares shaft rubbed his sweet spot.

In and out, Ares thrust His cock repeatedly into Joxer. Each stroke caressed the warriors prostate. Joxer gave himself totally to the War God. He writhed and moaned erotically, lost in the pleasure he was both getting and giving. With mindless abandon, he pushed back against Ares on every inward thrust and relaxed his muscles on every outward pull. Eagerly fucking himself on Ares huge cock, he gave as good as he got. For all His age and vast experience, Ares had rarely enjoyed the exotic pleasure of such a responsive lover.

Sweat dripped off of Ares onto Joxers burning skin as He wrapped His large hand around Joxers weeping cock. Three tight firm strokes was all it took and Joxer exploded with Ares name shouted from his lips. Ares had time for one last thrust into Joxer before the contracting muscles of His Priests ass threw Him over the edge into orgasim. He shot His seed deep into Joxer and then slowly collapsed on top of his limp and exhausted body.

Joxer looked at Him with a completely sated and enormously happy expression on his open face. The warrior leaned up and gently kissed Him on His lips. "Thank You." He whispered softly. He leaned his head back onto the soft bed, closed his eyes and passed out.

Ares allowed Himself a contented grin as He contemplated His sleeping lover. He sometimes forgot how fragile mortals were. His grin turned into a true smile. Joxer had definitely earned his rest, but then again, so had He. Ares rolled off of Joxer and onto His back next to him. Joxer let out a little whimper of loss in his sleep, so Ares reached out and gathered His mortal into His arms. Joxer snuggled down, pressed tightly against His side and quieted instantly. The last thought Ares had before He drifted off to sleep was that Joxer would definitely be able to relieve His boredom,... and possibly more.



Chapter 2: In Service to War

Joxer finds his place in the halls of war

The first sensation to register in Joxers sleep fogged mind was heat. A gentle warmth radiated against his back from a solid form which was molded to his body. The heat rolled over him in tender waves and he luxuriated in its presence all bemused. Slowly, languidly, Joxer rose up through the layers of dreams and sleep. As his mind became more and more aware, he realized that the warm form behind him was a person, and the warmth coincided with that persons breathing. He could feel the solidly muscled chest rising and falling against his back. Thick, strong arms encircled him protectively, and one leg was hooked over his.

It was an altogether lovely way to wake up. Joxer felt as if the sun was shinning just for him and his lover. //Lover?// That fact startled him all the way into conscienceness. //Who?! What?! Where?!//

Joxers eyes snapped open and he looked around in confusion. He didn't recognize where he was. The stone walls were decorated with priceless tapestries and the finest weapons he had ever seen. The furniture was of such magnificent luxury as to be unrivaled in any kings palace. Confusion started to give way to panic. //Where was he? What had he gotten himself into?//

Suddenly, Joxers eyes came to rest upon a small sharp dagger lying on a low table to the side of the large soft bed. It was a weapon he knew intimately. It was the dagger given to him by the God of War personally. It was... Joxers thoughts trailed off as a wave of memories floated through his head in graphic detail.

No. It had to have been a dream. It couldn't have been real. Things like that didn't happen to him. They happened to people like Xena and Gabby, not to losers like Joxer the (not so) Mighty.

Quickly, as if speed would make his wish true, Joxer lifted his left hand to his disbelieving eyes. There it was in vivid red. The scar. It traveled across the palm of his hand, undeniable proof of his Sacrifice. Of his Service to Ares. Ares!

More memories flooded into his mind and danced behind his eyes. It was an erotic vision of submission and pleasure. With a sudden realization of just who it was laying behind him, Joxer felt himself become instantly aroused. He could feel his blood pumping into his cock. Thickening it, lengthening it, awakening it into hardness. His skin seemed to become super sensitized and differing textures made themselves known. The cool silken sheets covering the soft mattress contrasted excitingly with the living, breathing warmth which was Ares.

The temptation of that amazing skin was too much for Joxer. Slowly, he reached down and ran the fingertips of his left hand in a light trail along the strong arm that held him tightly. The bronze skin was soft and lightly dusted with baby fine hairs of jet. Tenderly, Joxer slid his fingers along the well formed forearm until he reached the large, weapons callused hand.

With a single fingertip, Joxer traced the lines and contours of that hand. The fingers were thick and nicely formed. There were no cuts or scars, but there were roughened patches, calluses from thousands of hours of swinging a sword. Joxer noted with slight amusement that His fingernails were superbly manicured and polished. He grinned at a sudden mental image of Ares having His hair and fingernails fussed over by gossamer winged etheral beings who chattered at each other with birdsong.

Joxer started slightly when he heard an amused chuckle come from just behind his ear. The strong fingers he was caressing suddenly wove themselves with his, interlocking the two hands. He felt himself being pulled tighter against the solid warmth of Ares muscled chest.

"An interesting thought, and it would probably be enjoyable. But honestly, I'm not crazy enough to let the Muses touch My hair. I shudder to think of what they might do to it in the name of `creativity'." Ares voice was quiet and lightly sarcastic with amusement.

"How did You know what I was thinking?"

Ares gave a little snort, His amusement now plainly obvious, "I'm a God Joxer. If you don't want Me reading your thoughts, don't think so loudly. Especially about Me and in such vivid detail."

Joxer stretched luxuriously in Ares arms, enjoying the feel of the thick muscles and warm skin of his God rubbing against him. That lovely sensation intensified his current level of arousal. Deliberately thinking loudly and in vivid detail, Joxer imagined a series of images.

//Ares lying on His back while Joxer straddled His hips, riding His cock like the pro he was. Joxer on his hands and knees with Ares pounding His thick cock into him from behind. Ares propped up against a mountain of pillows while Joxer knelt between His legs swallowing His cock whole. Joxer on his back, his ankles hooked around Ares neck while the God of War plowed into him.//

Joxer began to tremble in desire for his dark God.

"Mmmm... Joxer. You have an amazing imagination. Such a gift for detail." Ares voice was no longer light. It was deep and husky, a low sexy murmur that sent shivers throughout Joxers body. "I gota tell you though. These are much better thoughts than Me being surrounded by a bunch of gossiping Goddesses."

Joxers hand was released by Ares only to have his body grasped. With a casual display of His physical strength, Ares rolled onto His back while pulling Joxer over Him. Then Joxer had a quick second to feel the War Gods thick muscles flex against him before he was lifted into the air, flipped over and laid back down. Once again, Joxer found himself blanketing Ares, but instead of back to front, they were front to front.

Joxers gaze swiftly traveled across Ares stunningly beautiful face until he locked eyes with the God of War. Joxer stared into those dark depths and saw forever looking back at him. He felt as if he were falling into those gold flecked orbs and he was absolutely certain that there was nothing so hauntingly beautiful as to even compare to the dark eyes of War.

Joxer could feel himself overcome with emotion as he gazed into the very soul of Ares. He didn't fight his emotions or try to push them aside. He let his emotions flow to the surface of his being and have free reign, until he was consumed by them.

//Passion - Awe - Wonderment - Devotion - Love - Desire - Hope//

Joxer watched, entranced, as slight flickers of emotion swiftly chased across Ares features. In an instant of clarity, Joxer realized that Ares could not only read the words in his mind and see the images dancing behind his eyes, but He could also feel the emotions that lived in his heart.

Instinctively, Joxer leaned down and kissed Ares lips. It was a tender kiss that expressed his love and devotion. Ares lips were soft and full against Joxers. He lightly nibbled on the bottom one, gently taking it into his mouth. Ares breathed in sharply at the sensation of Joxers teeth upon His skin.

At that soft sound, Joxers arousal demanded attention. His desire for Ares was physical as well as emotional and spiritual. Joxer spread his legs open until they slid off of Ares to drape alongside the War Gods muscular thighs. Bracing himself with his left hand, Joxer brought his right one up to Ares face. He lightly traced His cheekbone before tangling his long fingers into the soft midnight curls. With passion as his guide, Joxer deepened the kiss.

Joxers desire and his joy grew by leaps and bounds as Ares kissed him back with aggressive skill and thrust His hips up against Joxers body. //Yes!// His whole being shouted approval. Joxer writhed with the pleasure, his erection rubbing against Ares hard cock.

Ares caressed a path down Joxers smooth back, His hands leaving burning trails of electric tingles along his creamy skin. A shiver of desire raced along his spine and Joxer spread his knees wider an thrust down into Ares hot flesh. He felt a wanton need to submit to the God of War, a sublime desire to give Him pleasure.

Joxer tried to communicate his feelings with his heart, mind and body. Ares responded by plundering Joxers wet mouth with His tongue an grasping his ass in His strong hands. Joxer couldn't suppress a moan when Ares thrust His own hard shaft up against him.

Ares strong fingers tightly squeezed the firm flesh of his ass cheeks. The War God pulled the smooth globes up and apart, exposing Joxers center to the cool air. He felt open and vulnerable, utterly pliant in his Gods hands. His love and absolute trust in Ares allowed him to enjoy and revel in his submissive vulnerability.

//Take me. Claim me. I'm Yours.//

Joxer broke the kiss to gasp for air. Lifting his head slightly, he was rewarded with the sight of Ares lying beneath him. The War Gods moist lips were kiss swollen and His silken curls were tousled in an unruly tangle with Joxers fingers. His heavy lidded dark eyes were half closed and His skin was flushed with desire. It was a vision that would inspire wet dreams for the rest of Joxers life.

Joxer planted a trail of soft tender kisses along Ares masculine jawline. His lips and tongue licked, nibbled, and sucked a path down the dark Gods neck. Joxer continued his tender worship across Ares shoulder and collarbone. The War Gods skin had a musky, spicy taste that excited Joxer and made his hard cock throb in time to his heartbeat.

//If only everything I put in my mouth tasted as good as You, the world would be a better place.//

Ares right hand shifted slightly and Joxer could feel an oil coated fingertip brush lightly against the tight opening of his body. The gentle finger traced a circular path around the outside of the puckered ring of muscle. Teasing, exciting, promising. A shiver of anticipation raced through Joxer leaving profound joy in its wake.

"Mmmm... Oh, Ares..." Joxer breathed into the heavily muscled chest under him. "Please... Oh, please." Joxer arched his back, wantonly pushing at the thick finger, eagerly offering himself to his God.

Joxer felt Ares thick finger pressing into him. He pushed back, forcibly loosening his muscles, opening himself up to allow Ares inside. It felt amazing. Gently, slowly, Ares thrust his finger in and out of Joxers tight channel, generously coating him with the warm oil. The sensations sent electric tingles of desperate need through Joxers mind.

//Yesyesyesyes! More!!//

Joxer threw his head back and moaned in open mouthed abandon at the intense pleasure when Ares thrust in a second oiled finger. He arched his back and tilted his hips even more, opening himself to Ares. His body shouting desire, trust and need. Pushing up on his elbows and knees, Joxer began to rock, fucking himself on Ares strong hand.

Suddenly, with more force this time, Ares pushed a third finger into Joxer. He felt very full and moaned his approval in a throaty growl. He could feel those wonderfully thick fingers moving inside him, stretching him wide, preparing him. It was intensely erotic. He felt desired, wanted, cherished. Then without warning, Ares rubbed Joxers sweet spot deep within him.

"Oooooohhh..."

Involuntarily, his internal muscles clenched, squeezing down on Ares fingers and his cock jumped, drooling pre-cum in a steady stream.

"OhAresfuckmeFuckmenowNeedyouWantyouinsidemeOhpleaseNow FuckmeFuckmeFuckme!!!"

Joxers desire came out in one mindless rush of begging, but apparently Ares understood perfectly. Those loving fingers were withdrawn, leaving Joxer suddenly empty. He couldn't help it, he whimpered at the loss.

A husky chuckle rumbled through the solid chest under him. "Don't worry. I'm going to give you what you want."

Then Joxer felt Ares hands grasp his ass cheeks again, pulling them apart. Joxer reached under him with his left hand and grabbed Ares huge oil coated cock and guided it to his opening. He took a deep breath and forcibly relaxed his muscles, opening himself up as much as he could. Then, using gravity as a tool, he sat back, impaling himself on Ares cock in one smooth motion.

They both moaned at the exquisite sensation. The walls of Joxers tight passage clutched at Ares throbbing shaft in pleasure/pain as the wonderful thickness of that rigid organ stretched him to the limit. Filling him in a way no one else ever had. Completing him, making him whole.

Slowly at first, Joxer began to rock. Shifting forward, he could feel Ares length slide out of him, leaving him empty. Sitting back again, Joxer felt stretched once more as inch by inch, Ares invaded him, became one with him. Physical pleasure and emotional joy rolled through him in waves, making him yearn for more.

Joxer quickly settled into an erotic rhythm of movements that he knew from years of experience as one of Megs most popular (and profitable) workers, would bring the most pleasure to both of them. Once Ares was comfortable with that rhythm, Joxer began to increase the tempo.

Pushing and grinding against each other, they were soon coated in sweat. Joxer was panting and breathing out quiet words of devotion and encouragement while Ares writhed and moaned in pleasure.

"Oh yes,... Mmmmm... Oh yeah, there,... faster,... You are so beautiful,... Mmmmm... oooo,... to the left a little,... there, yesss there,... deeper,... Mmmmm... Oh Ares,..." Joxers throaty voice was a low murmur of sexy need and desire in Ares ears.

Faster and faster they moved. Joxer felt deliciously split wide by Ares. Harder and harder he slammed his ass against his Gods pelvis, aiming the angle of his hips for maximum penetration. Electricity raced along his spine and every nerve ending tingled with joy. Joxer never wanted these amazing sensations to end even as his whole being yearned for release.

Suddenly, Ares reached up and wrapped one strong hand around his weeping cock. Joxer gasped loudly and thrust into that tight hot fist. Intense pleasure flashed up his throbbing shaft and gathered in his balls.

"Ohhh... Ares! Yes! Oh Yes!" Joxer cried out his approval. His emotions bubbled and boiled, running over him in overwhelming waves. //Desire - Excitement - Delight - Need - Amazement - Respect - Pleasure - Tenderness - Longing - Devotion - Passion - Love//

Joxer began to fuck Ares fist even and he fucked himself on the Gods thick cock. Stroke/Stroke - Pleasure/Pleasure. Stroke/Stroke Pleasure/Pleasure. The pressure in his balls built up like crimson light and he could feel himself standing at the edge of control.

Ares voice, deep and husky with need caressed his ears with velvety desire. "Cum for Me Joxer. Cum for Me now."

Those words shattered Joxers last vestige of control and pushed him over the edge of passion into orgasm. His eyes slammed shut and he threw his head back as Ares name left his lips in an exultant cry. He arched his back and dug his fingers into the sheets, twisting them cruelly. Bolts of energy raced through his body, leaving him shaking and trembling. His cock jerked and swelled in Ares hot fist and his balls pulled in tight.

With mind numbing pleasure, Joxers seed blasted out of his cock to land in pearly drops against Ares bronze skin. His internal muscles clenched in time to the pumping of his cock. The twitching walls of his ass milked and sucked Ares thick cock, pulling the God of War into orgasm with him.

With a cry of happiness, Joxer felt Ares slam His throbbing shaft deeply into him as His divine seed filled him. The intense sensations washed over him in overwhelming waves. Pleasure ran rampant through him, short circuiting his mind. Darkness blurred the edges of his vision. Trembling in every limb, Joxer felt the last of his cum spill out over Ares thick fingers. Suddenly, the darkness engulfed him and he felt himself falling... Falling into unconscienceness.

~~~

One Week Later...

Joxer sat in the Armory of the Halls of War carefully polishing a round Grecian shield. He had stumbled across the Armory two days ago during one of Ares frequent trips to his Temples. Unlike most of the mortals here in the Halls of War, Joxer had been given free reign in the large fortress. He was not denied access to any room, so Joxer was exploring, learning his way around when he had discovered the Armory.

The Armory was a huge stone room, filled to over flowing with weapons and armor of every shape, size and style. Joxer was fascinated with the many types of weapons and armor. Many of them he knew about from experience. He had not used most of them himself, but had seen them employed by both friends and enemies. The rest,... well that was the odd part. They were weapons that he knew he had never seen, yet in some dormant part of his mind he recognized them. He knew what they were called and what they were used for.

But how? Where did this knowledge come from? As if in answer to his unspoken questions, Joxer had a memory surface. [ A stone Temple, being held in Ares strong embrace, soft lips, red blood. ] A shudder of desire coursed through him.

Trying to distract his growing libido, Joxer looked around the Armory again. It suddenly occurred to Joxer that the room was an unorganized mess. Weapons hung from decaying and broken racks or were haphazardly stacked in sloppy piles. Some were propped up in corners and dust covered about half of them. Armor was scattered here and there. It was not set up in any way. While the weapons and armor were undoubtedly of the finest quality, the room itself was a shambles.

Without even questioning if it would be a welcome idea, Joxer made a decision. He would transform this mess into a neat and organized arrangement. Weapons and armor would be properly displayed and easy to find. Inventory would be taken and cataloged. By the time he was done, he vowed he would be able to recite from memory, what was stored in here, down to the last arrow.

It was a quick work of ten minutes to accost two of the `house' servants, Mistos and Sloticles, and press them into clean-up duty in the Armory. The three men then spent the rest of the afternoon simply making piles of stuff. All the spears went in one corner. All the arrows in a series of piles; longbow, shortbow, and crossbow. Short swords here, long swords there. Pikes, maces, morning stars, clubs, and javelins. All had their own stack.

Finally, Joxer came across a specially designed, free standing rack. It was made for the express purpose of holding a complete suit of armor. It was a simple design and Joxer soon figured out how to hang a set of Grecian armor on it. Joxer was impressed. The stand showed off the armor to its best benefit and yet also kept it from being damaged by rust and mildew by keeping it off of the floor or shelves. He made another decision.

He sent Mistos off to find the man who did all the woodwork for Ares. Chaltius. He crafted the wooden shafts for all the arrows, spears and javelins as well as the crossbows and longbows. He also crafted furniture and cabinets as well as weapons. He was a talented man, and if it could be made from wood, he could create it.

When Mistos returned with Chaltius, Joxer showed him the rack holding the armor. They talked for a good half hour. Joxer explained his project of organizing the Armory and his excitement over the discovery of the armor rack. By the time Chaltius left, he had promised Joxer that he would make him about thirty more, as well as a bunch of weapons stands and racks. Joxer was giddy with joy.

That night, while eating dinner, Joxer had told Ares all about what he was doing. Ares had merely shrugged His heavy shoulders and said, "Okay, if that's what makes you happy, go for it."

When Joxer asked why Ares let his weapons get in such a mess, Ares had laughed, His dark seductive voice full of charmed amusement and mirth.

"My weapons, My personal weapons are only forged by Heaphestus. No one else." He waved His hand in the air, indicating the many polished weapons prominently displayed on the walls, "As you can see, I take very good care of them. The weapons in the Armory are made by mortal blacksmiths for My servants. They treat their weapons as they choose."

Joxer fixed Ares with a look of determination. "Well, I'm Your servant, so those weapons must be mine. I will treat them with the respect they deserve."

Ares stopped eating and studied him for a minute in the appraising way Joxer was slowly learning to recognize. The look was one that clearly said the God of War was reading his soul. Finally, He nodded His head and simply said, "Good."

So, here he was, several days later, polishing a round Grecian shield, getting it ready to hang on one of Chaltius's racks. The master craftsman had provided Joxer with six armor racks so far. As he buffed the metal surface to a gleaming shine, Joxer looked around.

While not even half way done, the Armory was looking much better. Joxer had mapped out the room and had decided what should go where. The assorted weapons were stacked up against the walls in the locations where they would be stored on the various racks and stands Chaltius was designing. The armor was neatly piled in complete suits in a series of straight rows and columns on the floor in the middle the room.

They had developed a pattern. Chaltius and his assistants would bring up a new rack. Joxer and his helpers would polish and hang the armor. Now that Chaltius assistants knew how to make the armor stands, the master craftsman was planning to start on the weapons racks. Things were going great. That was when Ares showed up.

Joxer was just setting the shield onto the rack when he heard a crackle of energy and the scent of burning ozone filled the air. Blue- white sparks shimmered in the corner of his eye. A wide smile split his face and his heart skipped a beat. He was about to turn and greet his beloved, when a double crash jolted him.

Turning swiftly, Joxer saw that Mistos an Sloticles had dropped the weapons they had been working on and had fallen to their knees, bowing low. "Hail Lord Ares, God of War." They intoned in perfect unison. Joxer glanced at them in approving amusement, but Ares ignored them. He let His eyes roam around the altered room known as the Armory.

"You've been busy, I see."

Joxers smile threatened to split his face. This project was his baby. He had told Ares of his progress each night, but this was the first time He came down to see for Himself. Joxers excitement bubbled within him and from the amused look on Ares face, Joxer was sure that He could sense that joy.

Never one to pass up an opportunity to hear his own voice, Joxer began to babble immediately in tones normally heard from a young child showing off a new toy.

"Very busy is right." Joxer said, walking over to Ares. Lightly grasping Ares right hand, Joxer bent over it, bowing. At the last instant, he turned Ares hand over and placed a soft kiss in the center of the palm. A wave of love washed over him when he saw Ares eyes darken slightly with desire.

Standing, he gestured at the room and it's many piles and stacks of weapons, "It's a lot of work, but Mistos and Sloticles," he nodded towards the two house servants turned weapons polishers, "have been very helpful. We've gotten everything sorted and stacked." He gestured to the different piles of arms ringing the edges of the room.

Motioning for the God of War to follow, Joxer walked to the suit of armor he had been working on. "Chaltius built me this rack. I like how it will hold one complete set of Grecian armor. That way, nothing gets lost or damaged." Joxer trailed fingers of one hand lightly along the shoulder strap.

Gesturing with an extended arm at the neat piles of armor arranged in a straight row behind the rack, he continued. "I am waiting for about twenty-three more. With a few modifications to the rack, Chaltius thinks we can also hang the Roman style armor I here." With that, Joxer pointed to the neat rows of Roman armor on the far side of the room.

Ares looked at him with an odd, almost puzzled expression on His handsome face. "This is really important to you, huh?"

Joxer didn't know how to explain why this project was so important to him, he wasn't sure he even knew why, but he did know how to explain what he wanted. Joxer closed his eyes and concentrated. Carefully, using as much detail as he could, Joxer created an image in his mind of how he wanted the armory to be.

//The stone floor and walls were not only swept clear of dust and cobwebs, but were recently scrubbed. Torch and candlelight illuminated the room. Sturdy wooden racks and shelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling. Polished and sharpened swords glittered in neat rows of reflected torch light. Barrows of arrows stacked neatly next to shelves of crossbows and a rack of unstrung longbows. Another framework, stretching across the back wall, held scores of pole arms, all organized by style and size. Maces, flails, and morning stars adorned another series of racks. Sharpened throwing knives and daggers decorated a set of shelves near it. Hundreds of gleaming, deadly weapons. All easily identified, all easily located. In the middle of the room, standing at attention in military rows and columns were the armor racks. In two columns of fifteen, Grecian armor was polished and oiled, ready for a solider to claim it. In two columns of fifteen on the far side of the room, stood their Roman counterparts. It was a well organized and impressive display of martial force.//

Joxer shook his head to clear the vision away. It wasn't easy to concentrate that intensely with such vivid detail for an extended period of time. He didn't want to give himself a headache. Opening his eyes upon the Armory in it's current state, Joxer turned slowly to gaze at Ares.

Ares was looking around the Armory with a reflective expression on His elegant visage. Joxer loved watching Ares, no matter what He was doing, but he was always amazed by the stunningly brilliant mind hidden behind those exquisite eyes. He had been slowly learning new and unexpected aspects of Ares personality and Joxer found that he really enjoyed it when Ares was thoughtful and introspective.

In a quiet voice, almost as if speaking to Himself, Ares spoke, "I only see a few battle axes and no war hammers. I'll speak to Kelpen, the blacksmith about it. You definitely need some of those to add to your collection of arms."

Joxers eyebrows rose up to touch the iron circlet around his head. His ears had caught the qualifiers of what Ares had said, but he wasn't sure he understood, "I need?... My collection?..."

Ares turned to him, mirth lighting his usually dark face. "Yes, your collection." He chuckled softly. "We talked about this the other night. You wanted to claim the Armory as your own on condition that you take care of the armor and treat the weapons with respect. I agreed. This is all yours." He waved His hand in a vague gesture that took in the Armory and all it contained.

Joxer must have had a confused and stunned look on his face (it certainly would express how he was feeling), because Ares grin suddenly turned into a deep rumbling laugh. Joxers confusion turned to astonishment as Ares unexpectedly reached out with one heavily muscled arm and pulled him close. He only had a second or two to enjoy being pressed close to Ares solid chest when he heard that perfect voice say softly, "Let's go. I'm hungry." Then the world dissolved.

Light shattered into a billion pieces and fell away from them in a brilliant shower of rainbow colored, glittering shards. Darkness swam in to replace the material world. No light, no sound, no air. Only the solid weight of his lovers arms around him to keep him from spinning off into the void of nothingness which binds the universe. Joxer clutched tightly at his God and let loose a soundless scream. Joxer felt as if he were being stretched in every direction all at once, and yet at the same time he was being compressed, squeezed in on himself.

Without any warning, Joxer felt as if he had been slammed against a thick wall. A flash of light dazzled his eyes, leaving behind colorful sparkles. Sound flooded into his ears and gravity reasserted itself dizzily. A wave of nausea swept over him as the rest of his senses came back in a rush. Ares arm around his waist was all that kept him on his feet.

"You'll feel better in a moment."

"Yeah, I know." Joxer braced himself and reopened his eyes. "But I still don't think I'll ever get used to that."

Ares chuckled again as he steadied Joxer on his feet. The disoriented feeling began to fade away. Joxer blinked and looked around. They were in scrupulously appointed personal quarters They weren't as large or luxurious as Ares apartments in the Halls of War, but they were obviously His rooms.

"Where are we?"

"Thrace."

Puzzlement washed over him. "Why?"

Ares shrugged gracefully, heavy muscles shifting under silken bronze skin. "My priests, Generals, and some local nobles loyal to Me have planned a feast in My honor." He shrugged again, this time with an amused smirk and laughing eyes. "What can I say? They adore Me."

Joxers smile erupted across his face. He loved Ares quiet sense of humor. It was always so unexpected. "Well, they show remarkable good taste. But, then again, You are pretty adorable."

Ares grinned at him. Joxer felt his cock twitch at the sight. Ares was so beautiful in His darkly dangerous way. Joxer could easily understand how people could be afraid of Ares, but he could not fathom those who did not worship Him.

To distract himself from his increasingly erotic thoughts, Joxer looked around Ares personal rooms here in the Thracian Temple. Joxer had never been here before and he found himself wanting to explore every nook and cranny of the Temple just as he had with the Halls of War.

Ares chuckled. "You can explore this place from top to bottom some other time, okay?"

Joxer gave Him a sideways grin. He was constantly amazed with Ares ability to pull his thoughts out of his mind. He often found himself deliberately thinking at Ares to either explain or entertain. It amused Ares and fascinated Joxer, but right now, he was simply baffled.

"So, what am I doing here then,. while You are at Your feast?"

Ares gave him a look that clearly said, It should be obvious. "You are going to the feast as well Joxer."

Joxer was slightly dubious about that idea and he squirmed, feeling just a bit uncomfortable. "I don't know,. I mean,. me eating dinner with a bunch of high ranking priests, the Army's Generals, and local nobles? I don't thin I'll fit in. I mean,." Joxer glanced down at the floor blushing. It wasn't easy admitting he wasn't as good as another, at least, not out loud, but he would die before he embarrassed Ares.

Suddenly. Ares arms were around him, pulling his back up against His muscled chest. Ares leaned His head forward and rested it on Joxers right shoulder to whisper in his ear.

"First of all, you are not an embarrassment to Me. I will personally peel the skin off of anyone who even dares to suggest that." Ares squeezed him tightly to emphasize His feelings on the subject.

"Secondly, I think you'll be surprised by their reaction to you. And I know you'll fit in just fine." Ares shrugged lightly. "Besides, if it makes you feel better, just think of this as your first lesson in politics."

"Lesson?" Joxers voice betrayed equal parts confusion and curiosity.

"Yes, lessons. I plan to educate you Joxer. From now on, you're going to study the things I think you need to know. Military History. Politics. And of course, weapons training. I want you to know how to use every piece of equipment in the Armory."

Ares turned Joxer around in His arms and looked into his eyes, a serious expression on His handsome face. "By the time I'm through, you'll have the skills and knowledge to conquer and rule any city in Greece. Either through political maneuvering or outright force."

Joxer felt a shiver race down his spine at the raw determination and iron will contained in Ares quiet voice. He didn't know whether to cringe back in fear at the pronouncement of Ares vision of his destiny, or cum in his pants at the blind faith the War God had in his abilities. He finally settled on somewhere in between.

"Anything for You Ares." Joxer leaned forward and lightly kissed Ares full bottom lip. "Anything." He whispered.

Ares kissed him back for a quick moment before stepping away, holding Joxer at arms length. "Enough of that for now." He growled huskily, desire evident in His voice. "If you start on that, we won't make it to the feast, and I for one, am hungry."

Joxer couldn't help the smirk on his face, nor the errant thought in his head. //You and Your appetites. If You're hungry, just eat me.//

Ares laughed out loud I response to that thought. "Later. Right now we need to get ready for the feast." Ares appraising gaze raked up and down Joxers body in an almost physical caress. "That outfit will never do."

Ares waved His right hand in a graceful arc. Joxer felt a warm tingle of energy wash over his body, followed swiftly by a cool breeze. Joxer quickly glanced down. He stood there complicated naked, wearing nothing but his iron circlet and an amused grin.

"Your right. This is much more appropriate for a fancy dinner with the leaders of a major city."

"Don't tempt me smart-ass." Ares grin turned wicked." Maybe I should make you go to the feast sky-clad." He brought His hand up to rub thoughtfully at His jet goatee, a speculative look on His darkly charming features.

Joxer had momentary vision of walking stark-raving naked into the main dinning hall on Ares well muscled arm. He imagined the sudden stunned silence and the shocked looks. The fancily dressed nobles would blush and try not the stare. The armored and armed Generals would try not to laugh. And the priests,. well he figured they would just be murderously jealous. He couldn't help it, he burst out laughing at the thought.

"It would make a big impression all right," he chuckled, "but probably not the one You want."

"Your right, Still,. it's a lovely thought. Having you next to Me all night without any clothes. But,. it would be a distraction, I wouldn't get anything done."

Ares waved His hand again. The tingle of energy flowed across Joxers skin once more.. .Joxer looked down again. This time he found himself clothed. He was wearing tight black leather pants tucked into black leather boots. The pants were soft and allowed for comfortable movements. His blood red shirt was of the finest Chin silk and open at the throat. The cuffs of his sleeves were tucked into thick black leather bracers and he wore a black leather vest that matched them. It was open down the front and hung only slightly below his slender waist. He glanced around the room quickly, looking for a mirror. Spying one on the far wall, he quickly walked over. He studied the dramatic change in his appearance created by the fine outfit. He smiled. Damn, Ares had good taste.

The God of Wars seductive voice floated in the air behind him. "You look beautiful. Come on, let's go."

~~~

Three weeks later.

Joxer stood in front of a handsomely cared wooden case of shelves that contained row upon row of scrolls. All of the scrolls stored in this particular case were maps. Maps of all the world. Most were of far off places that Joxer had never even heard of, and some were of places that no longer existed. There were hundreds of them stored here in what Joxer thought of as the `Map Room', but he was looking for one map in particular. He needed the map of the area surrounding the city-state of Troy.

Reaching up to pull a scroll off of an upper shelf, Joxer flinched at the sudden flash of pain in his stiff and sore shoulder muscles. The bruised and battered flesh undeniable proof of Ares enthusiastic participation in his `education'.

Earlier in the day, when the morning sun had been washing the day with golden rays of warmth, Ares and Joxer had retreated to the inner courtyard of the Halls of War. The open air atrium had been turned into a practice arena centuries ago, and as such, was the perfect spot for the lesson Ares had planned.

After four hours of practicing his sword fighting techniques against the God of War, Joxer was exhausted. Ares however, was in a great mood. He had spent the entire time they were getting cleaned up for lunch talking about Joxers progress. He was free with compliments about the areas Joxer had improved in, but He was just as free with critiques and advise in areas that Joxer needed to work on. And Ares managed to do that without making Joxer feel stupid and weak. Joxer was mostly amazed that he wasn't tripping over his own feet. Ares just smiled mysteriously when Joxer mentioned that observation.

During lunch, Ares made plans to visit Ipicles in Corinth. Joxer felt a stab of jealousy over that because he knew Ipicles was one of Ares lovers, but he squashed it down as best he could. Ares had several lovers that Joxer was aware of; Ipicles of Corinth, Chenra of the Amazons, Caesar of Rome, and of course, Discord and Strife. There were probably more, but they were the ones Joxer knew about. However, Joxer took consolation knowing that of all of them, only he lived in Ares fortress, the Halls of War. Ares spent an average of five nights out of the seven day week sleeping in his arms. Joxer had to content himself with being Ares favorite if he couldn't be the one and only.

Joxer knew he couldn't hide his jealousy from Ares, but he could control it. He found the control came easier when he focused on what Ares was saying, instead of allowing his active imagination free reign to torture him. With a quiet sigh of exceptance of the inevitable, Joxer listened to Ares.

". some out lying villages down in a very fertile valley fenced in by two shallow creeks. They've been getting hit hard by raiders lately. The villagers have no protection or defense, but they do have foodstuff and daughters."

"I don't understand. What's that got to do with Ipicles? Are the raiders from Corinth? `Cause I've met Ipicles and that just doesn't sound like his style." Joxers jealousy of the King of Corinth was forgotten in his concern for the helpless villagers.

"No, Ipicles didn't send the raiders. You're right, that's not his style. If he wants something, he doesn't use half-way measures. He just goes and takes it." Ares lifted a jeweled goblet and took a sip of wine. "I'm going to Corinth because that is the closest city-state to the villages that is loyal to me. Even better, there are no others between Corinth and the valley. A few villages, yes,. but no major towns or cities."

"I still don't understand. What is so important about the villages in that valley? And what does Corinth have to do with everything?"

Ares flashed a tight grin that would have frightened most mortals silly. Joxer however, found it to be hauntingly beautiful. "I'm going to kill two birds with one stone."

At Joxers confused look, Ares continued, a deadly serious expression on His handsome face, and His seductive voice a tense whisper. "The valley holds three small villages. When the raids began, the elders of each village met to discuss what to do. They finally built a shrine to Me in an area equal distance from each village. They sacrificed an animal from each village and called to Me for help."

Ares put down His goblet and got a far away look in His dark eyes as if remembering something from a dream. "It seems the raiders aren't Greek. They are foreigners from the east. The villagers prayed to Me using a title I haven't heard in a very long time,. Ares the Defender."

Joxer stopped eating and looked up at Ares, a thoughtful look on his usually smiling face. "I've never heard that title. I've heard You called `War' and `Violence', but never `Defender'. Still, I like that one best of all."

Ares raised one perfect eyebrow, indicating Joxer to elaborate. Joxer took a sip of wine from his own jeweled goblet and gathered his thoughts.

"I guess most people call You `War' or `Violence' because that is all they choose to see. I know better. I know that You are many things to many people. You are a son who is also a father. You are a brother and uncle. These things are basic, elemental, that which mortal and immortals share. Some would say these are the most important things, some would say they are hardly worth note."

"I know You are also; a lover and an enemy, a student and a teacher. You are compassionate, giving and kind, even as You are cruel, selfish and mean. You are everything and all things that You wish to be. You are my God, my lover, my teacher, my,. my friend."

Joxer blushed at that last whispered statement. He cleared his throat softly and continued. "Just because most mortals aren't smart enough to figure that out doesn't make it any less true." Joxer looked up then and grinned. "You might not hesitate to turn Your soldiers inside-out if they disobey You, but You always defend them from outsiders if they call for help. Ares the Defender." Joxers smile grew wider, "I really like that."

Ares expression was unreadable and He paused a moment to absorb Joxers words before speaking. "Sometimes you amaze me Joxer."

Shaking His head to clear His thoughts, Ares continued to discuss His plans with His paramour. "That's where Ipicles comes in. I want him to bring troops to the valley. They are gong to build a Temple to Me where that shrine is as well as a barracks across the clearing. They will defend the valley from the foreign raiders in My name and the name of Corinth."

Ares took another drink of wine. "Two birds. That valley gets My protection and Ipicles gets to expand his boarders."

Joxer thought about Ares plan for a few moments, turning it over in his mind, looking at it from all angles. Finally he spoke, "You know,. after the raiders have been defeated, Ipicles should build a good road from the valley to Corinth. If the valley is fertile and properly farmed, the people could cart their goods into the city and the merchants could also travel to the outlying districts. And if that road swung past those other villages that you mentioned,. well, Ipicles could easily build barracks there as well. Those villages could also benefit from the protection of Corinth and a well maintained road would be easy to patrol and police."

Joxer looked up to find Ares gracing him with an amused smirk. "What?!"

The God of War chuckled a low rumble in His muscled chest, "I was right about you Joxer, you have a natural instinct for this."

Joxer blushed at the compliment, although he didn't think he'd done anything to deserve it. He thought it was the obvious next step to Ares plan. Joxer knew from his travels with Xena and Gabrielle that it was all well and good to defend a helpless village, but what happens after the defenders are gone? Simple, the villagers are once more a target for raiders and Warlords.

Ares popped the last bite of food into His mouth and stood up from the table. "Well, I have to go and you have studying to do."

"Huh?"

"Troy. Or more specifically, the Trojan War. You'll find a map of the area in the back section of the Library with the other maps. Details of the battles are on scrolls in the Greek section of the area designated for Military History."

Joxer smiled. He enjoyed this part of his `education' and Ares knew it. He had always had a weakness for stories about battles, and Ares offical records had more truth and detail than any other version in the world. He was the God of War after all. Bur what truly intrigued Joxer was that there were usually three points of views in Ares records. The attackers, the defenders, and Ares own personal thoughts on everything that happened. That insight into the mind of the War God was a priceless treasure to Joxer, one he recognized as the gift to him that it truly was.

And so, here he was, in the Great Library of the Halls of War, map in hand, as he made his way back to the polished oak table already cluttered with scrolls and candles.

Joxer sat down in the heavily padded chair and rubbed absently at his sore shoulder while he looked at the assorted scrolls, scraps of parchment, candles and other myriad things that decorated the golden tabletop. Joxer had found that it was easier to study descriptions of battles if he knew where everything was in relation to everything else. So his first step was to make a clear spot to put the map. Moving things aside, Joxer was finally able to unroll the map. Candles in silver holders were used to hold down the far corners. Volcanic glass paperweights held down the corners nearest Joxer. He pulled a pouch out from under a pile of parchment and tossed it gently on top of the map. It contained miniature solders, horses, huts, and catapults made of pewter. Joxer would place these on the map to mark out the placement of troops, weapons, buildings and such.

On the left side of the map, Joxer piled the scrolls and parchments which detailed the battle from the Greek Army's point of view. He had detailed descriptions of various engagements with the enemy, tactical battle plans, and lists of numbers on everything from how many weapons they had available to how many food rations they brought with them. Joxer did the same thing with the vast information available on the Trojans, except he placed it on the right side of the map.

The parchment and scrolls containing Ares personal views about the Trojan War were the most important documents, of course. However, Joxer knew that he wouldn't understand them until he had plowed through the rest of it. The War Gods brilliant insights would only confuse Joxer if he didn't understand the references first. Joxer placed those precious notes on a low side table to wait for when he was ready for them.

Making himself comfortable in the chair once more, Joxer picked up a scroll from the Grecian point of view and began to read.



Chapter 3: Introspection & Realization

Ares realizes his fate

Ares gazed with fond affection at the mortal sleeping in His arms. The mans soft snores whispered in His ears. Ares stroked the silken red locks as the sky began to lighten with the coming of the dawn.

Iphicles' strong arms were wrapped around Him tightly as if he were afraid Ares would disappear. Ares allowed Himself an amused half- grin. That's exactly what He meant to do. He didn't want to wake the King of Corinth, however. Ares didn't want to deal with an emotional parting, but He feared there would be one if Iphicles were to wake.

Iphicles wasn't normally a very emotional man. Like Ares, he rarely expressed his passions except in the bedroom or on the battlefield. Recently, however, the big man had been wrestling with dark emotions all centering around Ares. He knew Iphicles was aware that He had other lovers, and that had never bothered the King before, but now...

Ares had been spending alot of time with Joxer. Several hours each day and almost every night as well. He hadn't realized how much that cut into the time He spent with His other lovers, until He felt the force and focus of the King of Corinths' jealousy.

Iphicles didn't know who His new lover was, he only knew that Ares hadn't been around as often. The God of War had found it flattering at first, but it was becoming slightly disturbing the more He thought about it.

Joxer was jealous of His lovers, but his jealousy was born of love for Ares. Iphicles was jealous, not of Ares lovers, but of the time the War God spent away from him. Iphicles saw Ares attention as a sign of status, of power. And it was , Ares knew that as well as, or even better than the sleeping King. That wasn't even an issue with Joxer, it was instead, about love and devotion.

Ares desire to leave Iphicles strengthened. It wasn't that His passion and affection for Iphicles had diminished. Last nights sexcapades proved that. It was just that He wanted to be with Joxer even more. He wanted to go home.

That thought brought Him up short. //Since when did Joxer become home?//

With a menacing scowl etched across His seductive features, Ares slowly shifted out from under the King of Corinth.

Once standing, Ares indulged in a long, bone popping stretch. If felt delicious to His sleep stiffened muscles and He was barely able to suppress a moan of contentment. With a thought, Ares clothed Himself in black leather once more.

With a flex of His power, Ares conjured a single long stemmed black rose. For centuries, Ares had given a black rose to His current favorite . Iphciles had been receiving them for a little over a year now. Ares looked deeply into the dark heart of the rose. For the first time since He had seduced Iphicles, it didn't feel right to leave him the symbol of affection. It suddenly felt like a lie.

Ares thought about what He wanted from Iphicles and Corinth. He also realized what He didn't want. Ares couldn't let Iphicles jealousy or insecurity diminish the Kings personal or political loyalty to Him. The kingdom of Corinth was too important. He couldn't let Iphicles go. Not now, not ever. On the other hand, He wouldn't arrange His life just to placate the mortal.

Another flex of power brought a piece of parchment and a pendant necklace into being in Ares out stretched hand.

Quietly walking over to a polished table, Ares laid the pendant down and read over the parchment to make certain it said what He wanted it to say.

Iphicles,
Wear this pendant at all times, for it is My symbol.
All who see it shall recognize it at once. You are now, and forever shall be, formally recognized as a member of My personal household.
A


Ares allowed Himself a secretive smirk. Maybe someday He would tell Iphicles the truth,... but not today. Ares placed the letter in the center of the table and then arranged the necklace on top. Still holding onto the delicate black rose, Ares transported Himself to the Halls of War in a shower of blue-white sparks.

Energy flashing around Him, Ares materialized in His Throneroom. The fortress was quiet this early in the morning. He could sense the minds of a few of His servants already awake and starting the day, but most of them were still asleep. Ares gazed down at the black rose He held in His large hand. He decided to use the early morning quiet to think. He had many projects going and He didn't want to be distracted by errant thoughts and emotions.

With a thoughtful look on His handsome face, Ares slowly walked through the corridors of His earthly home. Without consciously directing them, His feet took Him to His bedroom. To Joxer.

Stepping into the lushly appointed room, Ares eyes automatically locked onto the slender man sleeping alone in His bed. At Ares request, Joxer had been letting his hair grow out and his now shoulder length silky brown locks were fanned out against a red velvet pillow, held away from his face by the iron circlet. Joxer's pale skin glowed with vibrancy in the silver morning light and his features were soft and gentle. Black satin sheets outlined his sleeping form, a delicate promise of the joys waiting beneath.

In a blinding flash of insight, Ares suddenly realized why He couldn't bring Himself to give the black rose to Iphicles. It had confused Him because He knew His feelings for Iphicles had not changed. No, that wasn't it at all. It was what He felt for the mortal sleeping in His bed that was new.

Careful not to wake Joxer, Ares walked over to the huge bed and gently placed the black rose in his open right hand. Seeing the dark flower of War's affection resting in Joxers hand seemed so right somehow. It stirred thoughts and emotions within the War God, thoughts and emotions which had laid dormant over the long centuries. A tiny portion of Ares soul recognized the significance of these long buried feelings and rejoiced. The rest of Him felt a quick stab of fear.

In a panicky moment of denial, Ares let out a strangled moan and flashed away again, leaving a startled, and sleep confused Joxer to awaken to a fading shower of blue-white sparks and a single black rose.

~~~

Later that day...

Ares looked around at the destruction in His Olympian Temple. An hours worth of blasting priceless artwork into dust and solid stone columns into piles of rubble had sufficiently calmed or dissipated any feelings of fear or panic the God of War had suffered from. Now it was time to release the anger He felt at actually having to endure the suffocating sensation of fear. He of all beings, should never be afraid, but He had been, and now He was pissed.

"STRIFE!!!"

His deep booming voice rattled a few loose bits of black stone free. They tumbled to the once polished floor with a clatter.

In a flash of sparkles, the God of Mischief appeared before Ares. Clothed in head to toe black leather, His pale skin offset by midnight spiked hair and shinning eyes, His nephew was a vision of deadly beauty.

Ares watched Strife take in the chaotic destruction that was His Temple. His cunning eyes sweeping over the rubble swiftly before settling upon the War God. Stunning intelligence and amused suspicion blazed from the Mischief Gods eyes.

Ares was one of the few beings who did not underestimate Strife. He knew what His nephew was capable of. He could almost see the thoughts tumbling around Strife's mind. Manipulation and opportunity. Looking for the best way to use Ares anger to further His own goals and to consolidate His position as Ares Second in Command.

"Yeah, Unc? S'up?"

He made a graceful sweep of His fine boned hand, gesturing to the general destruction surrounding them.

"Been redecoratin', I see."

Ares only answer was to glare at Strife, His anger burning in His eyes. The God of War crossed the room with a few powerful strides, coming to stand directly in front of His nephew. Nostrils flaring, chest heaving, body tense with the negative energy coursing through Him like wildfire.

Ares watched as the God of Mischief curled in on Himself, seeming to almost simper and cower before Him. This tactic would work on any of the other Olympians, but Ares knew better. He knew Strife well, both His methods and His motivations.

The submissive posture was all a ruse. Strife tended to `top from the bottom', easily giving up the appearance of control so as to better manipulate from `behind the throne', so to speak. Ares knew that the cringe and the curled in shoulders were designed to hide the fact that His nephew was coiled like a spring, ready to attack. The God of Mischief was never more dangerous than when He seemed to be harmless. Ares smiled, the cruelty of a thousand mortal deaths shinning in His eyes.

With a graceful sweep of His heavily muscled arm, Ares banished both of their clothing and weapons. Ares allowed Himself a half moment of pleasure looking over the naked form of the slender God before Him. Beautiful, deadly, unafraid. Without any warning at all, the War God punched His nephew in the nose, breaking it.

Satisfaction began to flow through Ares at the sickening crunch of shattered bone and the scent of fresh blood. The sharp pain and burning heat in His ribs from Strife's retaliation was also a welcome sensation.

Yes, He knew He could always count on the God of Mischief to fight back when the rest of His family would cower in fright at the sight of an enraged God of War. Strife would fight hard and dirty, giving all of Himself to Ares need for pain and violence. As the War God flung His favorite nephew into the far wall of the stone Temple, He realized once again how much the demented Godling meant to Him.

~~~

The first sensation to register in Ares slowly awakening mind was the fact that He was sandwiched between something warm and heavy lying on top of His chest and something cold and unyielding under His back. As the fog of sleep slowly lifted from His awarness, He recognized the warm weight on top of Him as His nephew Strife and the cold hardness as the remains of His shattered Altar.

The realization of who He was with and where they were brought everything back in a dizzy rush. They had battled for dominance, and then had hot-animal sex. No wonder He was sore from head to toe.

Ares glanced at the young God asleep on His chest. Strife's head was tucked under His chin, midnight silky curls tickling His neck. The Mischief God's long, lean legs were spread, draping along either side of His body and His ass was firmly nestled against Ares crotch.

Ares slowly reached up with one hand and softly ran His fingers through Strife's hair. With a tenderness very few would ever suspect, Ares caressed His nephews still form. Carefully, so as not to startle Him, Ares rested His large hand upon the back of Strife's neck in a firm grip, while the other came up around Him to grip His waist tightly.

"Strife,... wake up." Ares voice was a low murmur.

Ares felt Strife's eyelashes flutter against His collarbone seconds before the Mischief God started to wriggle on top of Him.

"Hold still Strife." Immediately the wiggles stopped. "We're,... uh,... glued together."

"Somebody glued Us together?" came the sleepy reply from the only marginally awake God stretched across His chest.

"We glued Ourselves together. Blood, sweat, and sex." Ares grinned slightly as a flash of memories washed over Him.

"Well,..." Came the mumbled reply, "If You let Me sit up, I'll peal Us apart."

"Yeah right." Ares practically snorted. "And let You yank out all My chest hair?"

Strife giggled quietly in His throat. Ares didn't want to know what wicked thought prompted such an evil little sound.

"Hang on tight. I'll teleport Us to the baths. We'll soak Ourselves apart. Afterwards, I've got a job for You."

"Oh?"

"Some foreign raiders I want You to recon for Me. We'll discuss it while We bathe. Hold on."

Ares felt Strife grip on to Him tightly. Those long legs wrapped themselves around His in a tangle of limbs and Strife clung to His ribs with a crushing force. Gathering His power, Ares focused on His destination. The two Gods vanished in a flash of blue-white sparks, leaving behind a pile of black marble and stone ruins that had once been the Olympian Temple of War.

~~~

Ares sat, invisible to mortals, upon His Throne in Thrace. The last of his supplicants were just now leaving the dark Temple and the Priests were beginning to clean up after the crowds. He idly wondered how these silly mortals could possibly go about their little lives as if nothing had changed. They acted as if the universe hadn't suddenly turn itself inside out. But it had. Ares was sure of it.

Ares figured He could hide the fact for a while, but eventually His secret would get out. Most likely, His annoying ding-bat sister would figure it out. Ares almost groaned at that thought. If that happened, He was sure She would do everything in Her power to make Him squirm. And in this particular case, that was a lot of power. Unconsciously, Ares fidgeted on His Throne.

As He watched His Priests finish their tasks, Ares thought back on His day. He ticked off His proof on His long fingers.

One... Drowning Himself in Iphicles selfish passions did not affect Him as totally as it used to. While it was undoubtedly still lots of fun, it lacked the meaning it used to.

Two... He had given the Black Rose of War's Affection to Joxer.

Three... Disassembling His Olympian Temple did not ease His worries or change His feelings. That was a first. Usually, mass destruction cheered Him up immensely.

Four... He had given the Black Rose of War's Affection to Joxer.

Five... The violent fighting and subsequent fucking with His nephew Strife did not quench the odd yearning within Him. He felt oddly unsatisfied. Not physically, Strife was way too good to leave Ares anything but exhausted and sore. No, it was an emotional lacking that nagged at Him.

Six... He had given the Black Rose of War's Affection to Joxer.

Seven... The daily ritual of listening to the prayers and praise of His Priests and Warriors had not calmed His inner turmoil. It had seemed vaguely unimportant to Him.

Eight... He had given the Black Rose of War's Affection to Joxer.

Ares settled down even further in His Throne. A big soulful pout made His full lips even more seductive. His dark eyes grew large and pleading. Ares sighed as if He had been told His favorite pet had run away. He felt unfairly picked upon by the universe at large and it showed.

Gathering His courage to His breast, Ares finally admitted it. At least to Himself, which is a start. He, Ares God of War, had fallen in Love. He grimaced at the thought, even as it ran through His mind.

He was in love with Joxer. Without being aware of it, the War God smiled at the thought of the mortal man with the tender soul that had, at long last, won the heart of the God of War.

As the sun began it's descent in the darkening sky, Ares finally allowed himself to do that which He had wanted since the early morning dawn. He went home, to His beloved Joxer. A shimmer of blue-white sparks the only sign that He had even been there at all.

~~~

The invisible God of War watched silently as Joxer went about his nightly ritual of getting ready for bed. He had just come from the bath in the adjoining room and his skin was still slightly damp. The fresh scent of the herbal soap they both used was heavy in the air and a cheery fire warmed the room for his bare skin.

Ares enjoyed watching the play of solid muscle under the soft pale skin of His lover. Joxer had gained a few pounds and many muscles since he came to live in the Halls of War He diet was of the highest quality and he got more than the average amounts of exercise in his weapons practice with Ares. His long brown hair was dripping water down his smooth back in tantalizing drops that caught the firelight. All in all, he was a beautiful sight.

Slowly, so as not to startle the young man, Ares came into view. He watched with fascination as Joxer turned and smiled sweetly at Him. He could feel the waves of emotion pouring off of Joxer. Love. Devotion. Joy. He felt Himself returning those feelings just as strongly.

"Welcome home."

Joxers soft voice caressed Him as surely as if the beloved mortal had stroked His skin.

"Thank you for the rose. It was lovely."

Joxer gestured to the small table on the far side of the room. The black rose sat in a delicate crystal vase. The firelight reflected deeply in it's velvet petals.

"Your welcome. I thought you,... deserved it."

Joxer smiled at Ares and He could feel His whole body respond with yearning. He wanted to hold him close to His heart. So He did. It was only a matter of a few steps, but it felt like forever to the War God. And then Joxer was in His arms and the world suddenly was all right again.

Joxer snuggled close to Him. Ares could feel the comforting warmth of his skin through the black leather He wore, but it was not enough. With a tiny flex of power, He banished His clothing to the closet to lay next to Joxers'.

//Oh Ares. I missed You so much. I kept thinking about You all day.//

Joxers thoughts were a soothing balm to His troubled mind. Ares knew of no other being in all the universe who would freely open their thoughts to Him as fearlessly as Joxer did. It touched Him to know He had the gentle man's absolute trust and faith.

"Joxer,... I."

"Yes?"

"I,... I want to give you something. Something special that no one has ever had before." Ares voice was whisper soft.

Joxer looked up into Ares eyes. Love, trust, devotion, and a towering strength rested within that steady gaze. Those beautiful eyes gave Ares the inspiration He needed to continue.

"Joxer. I want to give you Me."

A puzzled look quickly settled on the mortals mobile features. Ares could sense the echoes of his thoughts as he slowly dissected what the War God was offering. His virginity. When Joxer did finally figure it out, the wave of emotion that poured into Ares through their link was almost enough to overwhelm the dark God.

// LOVE - PASSION - LOVE - TENDERNESS - LOVE - DESIRE - LOVE - AWE - LOVE//

"Oh Ares!"

Joxer raised up on his toes and kissed the God of War to within an inch of His immortal life. The Warrior Priest poured all of his feelings into that kiss and it seared His soul. Any fear or doubts He had about His decision was erased in that blinding kiss.

Joxer's flushed skin seared Him with pleasure as the Warrior Priest rubbed the length of his body against Ares. His heart and body lost all memory of the touches of Iphicles and Strife. He knew only of Joxer.

They shared a link, both mental and emotional. Physical contact magnified that link. Ares felt Joxer exert what little control over it that he had to banish all barriers between them. Touched by the gesture, Ares used His considerably greater control to drop His barriers as well. In a blinding instant of clarified unity, Ares became Joxer.

He could feel Joxer pressed against Himself, even as He felt what it was like to be Joxer pressed against the God of War. He felt the love that Joxer felt for Him, even as He could Himself as Joxer loving the God of War. He could feel Joxer's awe and his doubts as to his worthiness, even as He suddenly knew what it meant to be in awe of another. To doubt Himself.

In an eternal instant, Ares truly understood what it meant to be Joxer, Warrior Priest and beloved of Ares God of War.

Slowly pulling back from the link, separating Himself from their mental and emotional merging, Ares knew that He loved this mortal even more now, than before.

Just as He had disengaged from the link, Ares removed Himself from Joxers arms. Gently taking him by the hand, He led the beautiful young mortal to the satin lined bed. Tumbling into each others arms, the lovers sought to join physically, that which was just joined spiritually. Themselves.

Ares rolled onto His back, pulling Joxer over Him. He gazed into the eyes of His heart and soul, seeing love and devotion flowing back at Him. Reaching up to grasp Joxer behind his neck, Ares pulled him down into a kiss. Warmth rolled through Him on waves of erotic pleasure. He was unsure if it was His own arousal or Joxers that He felt. Joxer invaded His mouth with his tongue and Ares no longer cared whose arousal coursed through Him.

Joxer pushed up to lean his weight on his arms and began to leave a trail of tender kisses down His chest and stomach. Each individual kiss sent shivers across His skin even as they burned into His soul. Ares knew each caress of finger, lip or tongue to be an act of devotion and love.

Ares was a little surprised to notice that there was no sense of triumph emanating from Joxer. Ares virginity was the ultimate Prize of War and yet Joxer didn't see it as a goal that must be conquered, but a treasure to be savored and worshipped. Joxer did not see it as something to steal from the rest of Ares lovers, but as a precious gift given only to him.

A moan was dragged from His throat as Joxer slowly ran the wet tip of his tongue along the underside of His cock. When he reached the swollen head, he swirled his tongue around the edge before dipping into the slit to catch the first drop of pre-cum. Ares felt a slight tremor ripple through His muscled thighs as He resisted the powerful urge to drive Himself into that sweet hot mouth.

Without stopping the licking and nibbling he was doing on His throbbing cock, Joxer gently ran his hands along Ares straining legs. Calming and soothing Him.

//Oil, beloved. I need oil.//

Joxers mental voice was seductive in it's devotion and tenderness. The link fairly vibrated with his desire for Ares.

A flex of power and a small glazed pot containing a sweet scented oil appeared next to them on the bed. Joxer dipped one finger into the warm thick fluid, coating it completely, right before he relaxed his throat and swallowed Ares whole.

Ares gasped as exquisite sensations flooded His body on a direct path from His shaft along His tingling spine. Wet. Hot. Paradise.

Gradually, Ares became aware of a new sensation. Joxer was rubbing his slick finger along the outside of the entrance to His body. He didn't push in, instead he teased the opening. Tingles of desire flashed through Him in new and unusual ways. He found that His pleasure was not divided, but doubled.

Joxer sucked on the throbbing tip of His cock, gently scraping his teeth along the sensitive skin. A shudder coursed through His body, distracting Him from the exact moment in time that Joxer first entered Him.

Once his finger was inside, Joxer stopped moving it. That was fine with Ares. He had many sensations racing around inside His body and His mind. Some were Joxers, shared with Him through their link. Most were His, created by the new experience of allowing someone access to this most secret and vulnerable place. He had a sudden image of Himself, not as Ares God of War, but as Ares beloved of Joxer. He smiled with happiness and submitted.

As if he had known and understood the thoughts which swirled in His mind, Joxer began to gently move his finger inside of Ares body. Slowly stretching and loosening the tight muscles. Joxer also took that as a sign to lavish more loving attention on His throbbing erection. His concentration wavered between the amazing pleasure being visited on Him by Joxers sweet mouth and the probing and gentle finger buried deep within Him. Suddenly, Joxer added another slick finger and deep throated Him once more. Ares moaned His approval and pleasure.

He tried to keep a part of His mind detached, to analyze and dissect what was happening and how He felt about it. That became impossible however when Joxer found and rubbed His prostate. All thought dissolved in a massive flood of unimaginable pleasure.

Joxer continued to tease the excited gland while he ran his wet tongue along the underside of Ares cock. Riding on a wave of sensations, the War God thrashed His head from side to side and pushed back onto Joxers fingers.

The link, forged with their combined blood, echoed each others pleasure, desire and love back and forth. Each shared the experience of the other. Each became lost in the tidal wave that was their mutual lust and joy.

Joxer added a third finger and began to thrust them slowly in and out of Ares tight hot body. Ares, giving in to His desire and need, thrust back, fucking Himself on the hand of His beloved. Once again, Joxers fingers found His sweet spot.

"Now Joxer. Take me now."

//Now Joxer. Take me now.//

Ares watched the shiver of excitement work its way through Joxer as He spoke His need, both out loud and through their link. Suddenly feeling bereft, Ares watched those fingers that had just been in His body, slick oil along the length of Joxers straining and red cock.

Joxer lined up his erection with Ares stretched hole and gently pushed. Ares took a deep breath and forcibly relaxed His muscles as much as He could. He couldn't restrain the gasp that left Him as He was stretched so very wide. As gentle and as slow as Joxer was, he couldn't prevent the burning sensation and the feeling of overwhelming fullness. Suddenly, he was in to the hilt.

//Hot! Tight! Wet! Beautiful! Ares!//

//Love - Love - Love - Awe - Love - Love - Love//

Ares was flooded with thoughts and emotions from Joxer. It was an erotic rush that was almost better then the feeling of Joxer inside Him. They were one. Joined. A single being. Ares tried to calm His racing thoughts, to settle His whirling emotions, to savor the moment. That's when He felt it.

Joxers heartbeat. Inside His body. He was stunned at the simplicity of it. It was the most erotic and intimate sensation he had ever experienced in His entire life.

Then Joxer began to move. Slowly at first, then with more speed and thrust. Lightening bolts of pleasure blasted through Him each time Joxers cock pressed against His prostate.

More. He needed more.

Losing Himself in the physical side of His love, Ares thrust back onto Joxers cock. Quickly, they established a rythum. Hard and fast and intense. Ares forced Himself to open His eyes so He could watch Joxer make love to Him. He was beautiful. Head thrown back, chest gleaming with sweat, muscles flexing and those sexy low moans escaping past the softest kiss swollen lips. He felt a wave of lust rush down His spine.

As if he knew that Ares was watching, Joxer opened his eyes and gazed down at the War God writhing on the black sheets before him. Mutual love and pleasure pulsed along their link, binding them together. Catching and holding His eyes, Joxer reached out with one hand and wrapped it around Ares cock.

Ares moaned loudly at the exquisite feeling. Joxer gripped a little tighter and then began to pump Him in rhythm with his thrusts into Ares. It was too much. Electric blue sparks raced across the surface of His sweaty bronzed skin and leaped onto his Warrior Priest, to dissipate in a rush of gentle tingles. The pleasure that had been building in His groin exploded throughout His body.

Throwing His head back, Ares came with a roar. The muscles in His ass and the sensations flooding the link slammed Joxer over the edge. Blinding white pleasure seared his nervous system and with a shudder of ultimate pleasure he came, pumping his seed into Ares God of War.

Ares was barely aware of the world around Him when He felt a shiver in the link. Opening His dark eyes, He saw his beloved begin to collapse. Opening His arms, Ares caught Joxer and cradled the unconscious man to His muscled chest.

Tenderly petting the sweat slicked hair of the person He cherished more than anything in the world, Ares felt Himself begin to drift into sleep. Dragging out the last of His energy, Ares was able to whisper the one thing He wanted, no, needed to say.

"I love you Joxer."


Chapter 4: Children of the Blood Goddess

Joxer tests his new confidence in himself for Ares and faces the his former companions, Xena and Gabrielle as well as one of Ares' lovers, Iphicles

Strife arrived in the valley under a lush green tree in a shower of sparkles. Invisible to mortals, He still managed to frighten all the birds out of the branches above His head. Clear, shinning eyes gazed out at the world, absorbing all details, missing nothing. Slowly, a cruel smirk twisted the deceptively sweet features of His face.

Pushing away from the tree He had been leaning against, Strife calmly strolled over to the cave mouth gaping open like a wound in the side of the mountain. As He got closer, He could smell smoke, unwashed bodies,... and blood. A sudden keening wail of pain broke the silence, slightly startling the high-strung God. The scream died away in a gurgle and then chanting began.

Unconsciously, a shiver worked it's way down Strife's spine. The chanting was not sung in a Greek or Roman dialect. It was a foreign tongue, only vaguely familiar to Him. None but a few of the words came easily to Strife. He had to actively concentrate in order to translate the chanting.

Cautiously, so as to not make any sounds, Strife stepped into the darkness of the cave. What He saw brought Him up short.

The dank and musty cave was lit by smoky torches and tallow candles and was crowded by black and red clothed warriors kneeling before a bloody altar. A young Greek boy lay sprawled in a spreading pool of his own blood. As the chant grew louder and louder, Strife could feel a sense of outrage grow within Him.

~~~

translation of the chant Strife heard: "Kali-Ma! Kali-Ma! All praise the Blood Goddess! Kali-Ma! Kali-Ma! Life, Death, Rebirth! Dark Mother take us, Dark Mother hold us Kali-Ma! Kali-Ma! Kali-Ma!"

~~~

Joxer loved his practice sessions with Ares. Not that the practice sessions by himself or with various visiting warlords and priests weren't enjoyable, it was just better with Ares. Joxer grinned to himself...everything was better with Ares.

Currently, Ares was teaching Joxer techniques in two handed fighting. The exercises consisted of Joxer fighting with his sword in one hand and various objects in the other. A knife,... a shield,... a club,... etc...

It was an odd sensation, learning new fighting techniques. His blood link to Ares was so strong that he could often recall memories of battles that he had never been involved in. He could access the knowledge he had gained in the Ritual of Blood Sacrifice with startling ease and the practice sessions became a method of training his body to do what his mind already knew.

Together, they danced across the practice grounds. It was a deadly ballet of parries, thrusts and blocks. They twirled around each other, blades whistling through the air. Sunshine glinted off polished steal and a cloud of glittering dust rose around their shuffling feet. It was beautiful to watch and exhilarating to participate in.

Joxer could feel the pleasant burn beginning in his muscles, and a trickle of sweat slipped between his shoulder blades when a thin, pale, leather clad young man,... no God, flashed into view in a cascade of sparkles. It proved to be too much of a distraction and Joxer found himself tumbling across the ground in a tangle of limbs only to land in a heap on his back.

"Pay attention to your opponent at all times. It only takes a seconds worth of distraction to take you down and out."

"Yes Ares."

The new arrival glanced over at Joxer around Ares solid mass and let out a soft wicked giggle. His dark eyes were amused and He almost seemed like an overgrown kid to Joxer. As he was climbing back to his feet, Joxer took in the black leather armor and the myriad collection of knives. Okay, he amended, a dangerous, overgrown kid.

"Hurts, don't it?"

The voice was friendly enough, but it carried overtones of sarcasm and bitterness that Joxer could easily recognize. He didn't take it personally,... he rarely did.

"Getting knocked on my ass? Yeah."

The Warrior Priest and the younger God shared a cheeky grin while Ares just sighed and rolled His eyes in resignation. The melodrama of the WarGod caused the twin grins to evolve into matching chuckles.

Joxer could feel the rye amusement mingle with an odd sort of anxiety coming through the link from Ares. He sorted through the flashes of images, words and emotions that began bleeding through the moment the stranger flashed in. He translated it into Ares wanting to speak to the stranger alone.

Joxer tried to dust himself off as he walked over to the weapons rack standing in the corner. He neatly hung up his shield and slid his sword home into it's sheath. Smiling, he went over to the two Gods.

"Um... I know you guys want to talk, so I'll just get cleaned up and grab some lunch."

Joxer started to turn and walk away, when suddenly his good manners reached out and pinched him. Turning back around quickly, Joxer thrust his hand out towards the stranger with the delightfully wicked giggle.

"Oh, by the way,... I'm Joxer."

The pale young God looked startled for an instant, but recovered quickly. He shook Joxers hand firmly and smiled.

"Strife. God of Mischief."

Joxers grinned wider.

"I've heard stories about You. Someday, we'll have to sit down and get drunk. You can tell me which of those stories are true."

Strife laughed out loud and Ares threw him a wink, then Joxer turned and walked into the Halls of War whistling tunelessly to himself.

~~~

several days later...

Joxer stood at the top of the hill and glanced back over his shoulder at the fading vision of the Halls of War. It had been his home for over two months and he was a little sad at leaving the one place he was truly and totally accepted. But leaving he was, because Ares asked him to,... and he would do anything for his beloved.

Turning back towards the rising sun, Joxer set off down the road to meet up with Xena and Gabrielle. Ares had tried to give him a horse to ride, but he just didn't feel all that comfortable riding the huge beasts. Horses made him nervous for some reason. Even Argo, and he had spent enough time around the pale warhorse for her to know and trust him. So it was, that he was traveling on foot, hoping that Xena and Gabrielle wouldn't change directions.

Two long and lonely days later, Joxer finally caught up to the Warrior Princess and the Amazon Bard. It had been quite a while since he had last seen his two closest friends and he had missed them both, so he was a little startled by their reception of him.

He had been walking through a wooded section at the time. The sun was high overhead and the bright beams of light were filtered by the green canopy overhead, casting a moving calliope of light and shadows. Small wildlife scampered through the undergrowth and birdsong rang through the air. Joxer had been enjoying the beauty of his surroundings when the peaceful tranquillity had been punctuated by the sounds of humans drawing close.

Memories and training, both his own as well as those he received from the Ritual of Blood Sacrifice rose up in him, flashing one after the other behind his eyes. Loosening the sword in it's sheath, Joxer stepped off the path and ducked behind a tree. Crouched in the shadows, the Warrior Priest drew his weapons, ready to spring out in ambush if the nearing travelers proved to be enemies.

Joxer was pulled back from the razor edge of violence when a familiar voice drifted on the breeze to him. The tension drained from his body and a smile crossed his face. He slid his weapons back in their sheaths and stepped back onto the path as he listened to the babbling sound of Gabrielle's storytelling.

Joxer leaned up against a nearby tree and waited for the two women to crest the small hill. While he could hear Gabby clearly, it was Xena, atop of Argo, that he saw first. He smiled and waved.

Xena visibly tensed and slowly lowered her hand to her chakram. Joxer saw and noted all the visual signs of the Warrior Princess mentally preparing for battle. Confused and alarmed, Joxer glanced around and extended his hearing, searching for the danger that Xena sensed. Finding no one else around, Joxer realized that he was the threat Xena was reacting to.

That was an amazing revelation. This was the first time that anyone Joxer respected actually considered him to be dangerous, a threat. For a quick moment, Joxer enjoyed that sensation. The thrill of creating cautious wariness, if not outright fear, in another instead of derision and disgust was a heady experience. Right up until he made another discovery. As long as Xena saw him as a threat, then she was a danger to him. In an instant, the whole dynamic of their relationship had changed.

Just then, Gabrielle looked up, following Xena's gaze and saw Joxer. A myriad of expressions flickered across her soft features before settling on a mixture of amused confusion and slight irritation. Deliberately keeping his hands away from his weapons, he smiled, nodded and called to Gabrielle,... all without breaking eye contact with the Warrior Princess.

"Hey Gabrielle. Xena. Long time, no see."

"Joxer?"

"The one and only."

Gabby let out a graceless snort. A look of indulgent amusement crossed her face as she slowly circled him, running her eyes up and down his body. She finally came to a stop in front of him and leaned on her staff. She made a vague waving gesture that took in his body from head to toe.

"Um,... Joxer. New clothes, I see. Oh,... and no hat. I must say, I like the circlet much better."

Joxer felt a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth and had to restrain himself from twirling around to show off the custom leather armor that had been made for him at the Halls of War.

"New look for you Joxer. New armor,... new weapons."

Gabby paused a moment as worry clouded her eyes.

"Did you steal this from somebody Joxer?"

Joxer snorted in derision. "No."

Gabrielle couldn't let go of the theory that Joxer had stolen the armor and weapons. Anger flashed across her face and she reached out to grab his nose and twist. Joxer blocked and dodged. Xena tensed. Gabby just stopped, staring at him in stunned amazement.

"Joxer?"

Xena's voice was calm and deceptively friendly. Joxer knew her well enough to recognize the hard cutting edge just under the honeyed tones.

"Yes Xena?"

"How long have you been a Priest to Ares?"

"A little over two months."

Gabrielle's head whipped back and forth between her best friend and lover and the man she thought she knew. It was obvious that she was both upset and confused.

"Xena? What are you talking about? It's just new clothes on the same old Joxer."

Xena didn't say anything. She just sat up on top of Argo and raised one eyebrow, glaring imperiously at them. This routine usually cowed him. Xena's cold aloofness combined with Gabby's barbed humor kept him from protesting any rough or rude treatment. For the past two months, however, he had been treated with honor and respect by the other mortals in the Halls of War, and Ares,... well, the WarGod treated him like a treasured lover. Joxer idly wondered how he could have considered his memories of the Warrior Princess and the Amazon Bard pleasant when they treated him so badly. Unconsciously, he gritted his teeth.

"I mean,..." Gabby continued. "This is Joxer. Not even he is stupid enough to hook up with that butcher."

Joxer felt as if he had been slapped in the face. While the fact that Gabrielle could casually insult him without even thinking about it hurt, her words against Ares made his blood boil. Xena just watched him get angry with quiet interest.

"Stupid, Gabby?"

She stopped gesturing and glanced over at him, perturbed that he would interrupt her ranting.

"I'm stupid and Ares is a butcher, huh?"

She made a "Duh!" face at him. He flashed a tight cold grin at her.

"Funny. I've heard that about you two."

Gabrielle gasped in shock.

"Joxer! How could you..."

"What? Serve up a plate of the same crap I've been getting from you for years?... Get over yourself Gabrielle. It's not as hard to do as one might think."

Gabrielle's spine stiffened in shocked insult. Her whipping boy had just hit back and she wasn't sure how to take it. Eyes flashing her anger, she turned and stomped off.

"Fine. Whatever. I don't have to listen to this."

Joxer turned to Xena who had sat impassively throughout the exchange between himself and the Amazon Bard. Silently, Joxer waited for her to gather her thoughts.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing Joxer? Despite what people say about me or my past, Gabrielle is right. Ares is a butcher. He doesn't just like War and Violence, he is War and Violence."

"Yes. I know... I know better than you think. That's okay though. I love your father Xena, and nothing you or Gabrielle say will change that."

Joxer watched Xena flinch at the mention of her paternity, but she didn't deny it. It was progress, but the estrangement between his lover and his closest friend hurt him in a way he couldn't quite understand. He figured it was a good time to change the subject.

"Um,... Xena. I, uh,... I actually came looking for you for a reason."

She raised her eyebrow again, this time her eyes sparkled with wary curiosity.

"Oh?"

"Yeah,... Umm, what do you know about Kali-Ma, the Blood Goddess?"

~~~

They had been traveling for several days to reach the valley. Xena believed Joxer about the danger to the villagers and his desire to help. She was, however, suspicious of Ares involvement in the affair. Gabrielle had settled into an odd pattern of resentful pouting, petty insults, and self righteous indignation. Through it all, Joxer endured.

Finally, they crested a hill that led into the small valley. Down below they could see a double column of Corinthian soldiers marching into the heart of the fertile farmland. The sun glinted off of polished weapons and the jingle of armor could be heard on the light breeze.

"How are we going to stop them?"

Joxer looked at Gabrielle as if she had gone mad.

"We're no here to stop Iphicles. We're here to fight at his side. His troops are all that stands between the farmers in this valley and the Children of the Blood Goddess."

"Xena?"

"He's right. If the followers of Kali-Ma are here, they won't stop. They don't make war to conquer a people or to gain land. They make war for one reason, and one reason only. To keep Kali-Ma's altars running red with the blood of human sacrifices."

Gabrielle turned pale, her mind suddenly wiped clean of retorts. Joxer, however, was at the end of his considerable patience.

"Look. You can stand here preaching peace and love to the trees for all I care. I'm going down to speak to Iphicles."

With that, Joxer turned away and began walking down the gentle slope towards the valley below. He didn't turn around to look behind him, he didn't need to. He could hear the jingle and creak of Argo's tack as the big war-horse slowly followed behind him. Joxer knew that Gabrielle would follow Xena. She might be upset, but she would follow.

Making his way deeper into the valley with Xena and Gabrielle right on his heels, he soon came across a large, well guarded compound. They were stopped at the parameter by an armed warrior.

"We would speak with King Iphicles and his generals."

"Oh?... and just who are you?"

The guard was rude and he sneered slightly. Joxer figured he would simply tell the truth.

"I'm Joxer, High Priest of Ares God of War. With me is Xena, Warrior Princess of Amphipilous and Gabrielle, Queen of the Grecian Amazons."

The rude and arrogant parameter guard paled as he was shoved firmly back into place.

"Follow me."

He turned and led them to a large and luxurious tent set square in the middle of the camp. After being announced, they were escorted directly to the King of Corinth. Joxer looked around the tent, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light as he took in the maps, arms, oil lamps and goblets of wine. Slowly, as the details became clearer, he couldn't avoid it any longer. Joxer looked up, full into the face of his rival for Ares attention: Iphicles, King of Corinth.

A sharp, white hot pain cut right through him as he took in the regal beauty and quiet strength of the man across the table from him. It was easy to see why this man was favored by the War God. Iphicles was a consummate warrior, and it showed in everything he did and said. Joxer found himself torn between admiring the King of Corinth as a warrior and a leader of men, and burning in cruel jealousy of another of Ares lovers and confidants.

A hundred thoughts and comments flashed into his mind. With a will of iron, Joxer clamped down on them, biting them back before he could even speak them. Instead, he stood silent, listening as Xena and Gabrielle grilled the Warrior King for information.

As the conversation progressed to a discussion of the battle plans, a frown began to form on Joxers face. He stepped closer to the table and stared at the map while listening to Iphicles and Xena argue over fortifications and defensive plans. Slowly, his frown grew.

"What Joxer? Something is bothering you about this,... spit it out."

The deep husky voice was accompanied by a shower of blue-white sparks of energy and the scent of burning ozone.

Joxer glanced up at Ares and felt a wash of love and adoration rush over him. He had to actively force his mind to focus on the battle plans.

"Actually, I agree with Xena's assessment for defending the three villages. I also agree with Iphicles about building fortifications and barracks for the soldiers. We talked about that before. I think Corinth should just assume rule over this area as an outlying district, so those fortifications will be necessary."

Joxer stepped closer to the map and waved Ares over to look at it. He was absorbed in his thoughts and the WarGods presence, so he missed the twin looks of shocked disbelief on Xena and Gabrielle's faces.

"As much as I agree with getting this area defensible, I think we should attack the enemy as well. Flush them out of their hiding holes, then destroy them. We can't allow them a base of operations, a shelter."

Joxer's eyes stopped roaming the map to gaze up at Ares questioningly.

"Where did Strife find them? Didn't He say they were holding a ritual in a cave?"

"Yes."

"Caves?"

Iphicles leaned forward, eyes scouring the map. Suddenly, he stabbed the parchment with one of his thick blunt fingers.

"Here. This is a low range of rocky hills and cliff faces. It's only several hours walk from the valley. It's rock and hill country. It would make a perfect base of operations for skirmishes into the countryside."

Joxer looked up and caught the eyes of the King of Corinth. He saw cautious respect and many questions. They were current allies, but what did the future hold? Friends... or enemies. Then Ares put one large hand on Joxers shoulder and pulled him back so that he was leaning against the WarGods firmly muscled body. Iphicles eyes darkened and grew cold.

The sudden tension was broken by another cascade of sparks and a distinct popping sound. Joxer felt a wide grin settle onto his face at the sight of Strife materializing into view. The Mischief God seemed to tickle his funny bone for some reason.

"Hey `Unc. Hey Jox. `Sup?"

"Hey Strife."

The Mischief God winked at Joxer and then looked around. He saw Xena and paused to lewdly eye her up and down.

"Hey Xena. I'm..."

"I know who You are."

Gabrielle looked around and settled her appraising gaze on the young God for a quick minute before returning her stunned stare to a smiling Joxer nestled up against the God of War.

"Well, I'm confused."

Joxer couldn't completely stifle the sharp snort of amusement when Ares whispered, "No shit." in his ear. Then the WarGod cleared His throat and formally introduced everyone.

"This is My nephew Strife, the God of Mischief. My daughter Xena and My grandson Iphicles."

Startled gasps followed that little announcement. Ares ignored the astonished reactions and continued on with a tight squeeze around Joxers waist.

"This is My Consort Joxer,... and you my blonde little Amazon,... are an annoying headache."

~~~

Joxer leaned back against the rock trying to catch his breath. His blood was pounding through his veins and his mind was a swirl of turbulent emotions. A small little voice in the back of his mind clinically noted that he was in danger of slipping into shock. Slowly, he let his eyes roam randomly across the battlefield.

It was an odd and disconcerting sensation. Memories and images of countless other battles and wars superimposed themselves over this one. Ghosts, ancient enemies of ancient ancestors lay beside fresh corpses. Triumphant victory and the thrill of still being alive fluctuated with a chill sense of horror over what had transpired.

With a tired sigh, Joxer pushed off of his perch on the rock. He had to organize the Corinthian troops he and Gabrielle had led in battle into building a large funeral pyre. They had to burn the dead or pestilence would sweep over the land.

Walking over to the burly Sergeant, he gave a few quiet orders. A terse nod, and then the large, blood splattered man turned and began barking out commands.

Walking further across the blood soaked earth, Joxer came across the tired and worn Amazon he still considered one of his closest friends. She had cleared out an area and was tending the wounds and injuries of the survivors. A young soldier had been pressed into service as her assistant. Standing still and quiet, he watched her desperately try to stop the flow of blood from painful wounds, both the physical kind, as well as the emotional. A small wane smile crossed his face.

Careful of where he stepped, he slowly made his way among the groaning men lying on the ground. Kneeling down next to Gabrielle, he silently watched her trying to clean out a jagged cut along a soldiers arm with a dirty bit of rag.

Gabrielle turned to him, her eyes flashing with barely suppressed anger.

"Well? Was it worth it? Did you get your glory?"

Joxer stared hard at her. He was too tired and sore to argue or be offended. He simply offered her the truth.

"Was it worth it? All this pain and suffering? The slaughter and mayhem? The violence? I think so, but we won't know for a while yet. We routed the Children of the Blood Goddess. We are warriors, soldiers and we accept this... pain and death as a fact of life. The villagers... they shouldn't have to. That is what this... slaughter was about. If the villagers are now safe... then yes, it was worth it."

He paused for a moment. It allowed her to absorb what he had said and allowed him to gather his thoughts. Finally, he sighed and looked away, his normally cheerful eyes scanning the body littered ground.

"Did I get glory?... No. I didn't get glory or fame or riches."

He turned back to her and caught her sad gaze with his own.

"What I did... was lose my blood innocence. I never took a life before today. Never!"

Joxer gestured to the field of battle that stretched out around them.

"This... all this... is on my hands. I made the plans, I choose the location, I led the attack. I did this..."

Joxer looked around again, his eyes distant. He didn't have the time or luxury to indulge in self-pity. Too many things needed to be done and too many people were counting on him to get them done right. Slowly, he stood and went off looking for his Lieutenant.



end