The God Within 12/?
Title: The God Within 12/?
Author: Wildannuette
Fandom: Xena/Herc
Permission to archive on Makebelieve: already there
Email:auxilary25248891@aol.com
Website: http://wildannuette.livejournal.com/
Rating: FRAO
Summary: Joxer gets attacked by an unexpected Diety and Ares finally gets a clue.
Warnings: mpreg
Notes:Thanks to Hallie for betaing and to Jo for her brainstorming over this plot.
Joxer moaned as teeth gently grazed from his earlobe, down his neck and nipped teasingly at the skin at the bottom; wetting his lips, Joxer made a noise in protest when the mouth was removed and he was rewarded with a familiar deep laugh as hands stroked his overheated and aroused body.
Joxer moaned as teeth gently grazed from his earlobe, down his neck and nipped teasingly at the skin at the bottom; wetting his lips, Joxer made a noise in protest when the mouth was removed and he was rewarded with a familiar deep laugh as hands stroked his overheated and aroused body. A pout on his lips Joxer locked eyes with his lover and rocked his body, rubbing against Ares. Joxer could feel the God’s arousal but Ares seemed determined to make their foreplay as torturously slow and prolonged as possible; writhing under Ares expert caresses, Joxer didn’t know when he had fallen out of Strife’s memories and into his own dreams but he wasn’t about to complain or in any hurry to wake up. He just wanted more heated touches and teasing kisses. Joxer was happy to worship Ares in every method and manner possible but his dream lover seemed frustratingly hell-bent on stopping him; just as the mortal managed to get his hands on Ares exposed flesh he felt a chill permeate his body and a bright light assaulted his eyes as he did a full body jerk into the waking world.
Coughing and spluttering the water from his mouth, Joxer rubbed his sore eyes and blinked back dots as the world slowly came into focus. Gabrielle’s frown and the half full bucket she held in her hands spoke volumes and Joxer eyed it slightly dubiously wondering if she was going to soak him again.
“Finally you’re awake,” Gabrielle’s voice was full of annoyance and Joxer had to suppress a wince as she stomped back to the fire and continued stirring the pots she was heating; that nasal a voice first thing in the morning set his teeth on edge and it was those days he wondered how he’d ever fancied himself in love with her- thank the God’s he’d grown out of it, for his sake and Strife’s.
Joxer crawled out of his blanket, glad the cold water had effectively dispelled his arousal; he wrung most of the water out of the blanket and his shirt before laying them in full view of the sun to dry. “How long has everyone been up?” he asked, careful to keep his voice neutral, the last thing he needed was any arguments.
Making no attempt to hide her annoyance, Gabrielle stopped stirring the vegetables she was cooking and frowned at him, “Well over an hour. We were hoping to move on early today but since you sleep like the dead, Xena insisted we make breakfast and wait for you.” Her tone of voice said more then just her words implied. Gabrielle obviously wouldn’t have been bothered about leaving him behind, a fact that stung Joxer making it clear to him that it was time for him to travel on his own. Not bothering with a reply, Joxer stood up keeping his gaze firmly fixed away from her as he headed the short distance to the river to bathe; only Xena’s refusal to leave him and the memory of his dream pushed him back into good spirits again.
Behind him, Gabrielle rolled her eyes turning her attention back to the (thankfully) finally cooked breakfast, her mouth dropping open in confusion as she stared down at the raw vegetables that barely simmered in the pan.
By the time Joxer had reached the river Gabrielle’s words had been forgotten and his arousal had returned with a vengeance so he quickly stripped off and walked into the chilly water. The river’s current was gentle enough that Joxer could wade into the middle and duck his body down briefly to rinse it. Vigorously rubbing his body with his cleaning rag, Joxer hoped that the rough treatment could do what the cold water could not. His hips were barely covered by the water when he stood up but his waning erection was hidden from view. Only when it was time to clean his stomach did Joxer pause; he was still worried about pressing too hard and upsetting the baby which was laughable in itself not only because Joxer had to be the only man in existence with that worry but because the baby in question was a God.
As he stared down at his stomach Joxer suddenly realised the usually flat, almost concave, shape had been replaced by a very gently swelling directly between his hipbones. It looked very unusual and Joxer couldn’t help running his hand down his body and cupping it as he realised the tiny bump was Strife; a feeling of immense protectiveness flooded Joxer and he swallowed hard as he understood, for the first time, that Strife was truly being reborn. Joxer’s friend was coming back to him in the best way possible- as his son. *The most vulnerable way too,* that thought pushed Joxer to wade out of the river and pull his trousers back on, ignoring the damp patches. Joxer knew Strife would be vulnerable without his powers and more so inside the most accident prone person in Greece, only Asyinnitos comments about Strife choosing him for a father and the reassuring swell he could feel pushed his worries aside. Instead he focused on breakfast, satisfying the deep hunger inside him and finding the right words to tell Xena at the next village, that he wished to part ways. Joxer was saddened by the loss of Xena’s company more so then anyone else’s; only Iolaus came a slightly close second, Joxer having reached a new understanding with him.
The mortal was so engrossed in wording his goodbyes properly that he didn’t notice the warning flash of colour behind him but did notice when something slammed against his back, forcing him face first against one of the trees and pinned him there.
Joxer heard the loud crunch before he felt the blinding pain that shot across his face as his nose took the brunt of the damage; one cheek was pressed against the bark of the tree, the rough surface scraping it as Joxer’s unknown attacker held him firmly despite the man attempts to pull away. Tasting copper, Joxer choked as he realised blood was tricking from his nose and into his mouth but there was little he could do, struggling had no effect on the person pinning him, if he was even a person at all; judging by his strength and ability to sneak around, Joxer guessed he was more then just mortal, more like a God-a very angry God. The voice that spoke softly in his ear startled him, not only because it was unfamiliar and unexpected but also because it was so very young and sensual.
“If you think this is bad you should see what my brothers can do,” there was cold amusement in his attacker's voice but Joxer caught the hidden warning, he had no intention of inflaming his assailant and having him call for reinforcements. Remaining as still as possible, Joxer tried to listen ignoring how much his body wanted to tear away.
“Which brings me to why I am here; brother’s or rather just one brother in fact, Cupid.” As the mortal digested the realisation that he was certainly dealing with a God, the God in question paused briefly as if to give Joxer time to interrupt before continuing, “he’s been through enough already as has the rest of my family they don’t need this forum or this hassle so back off!” The last words were punctuated by a malicious punch to his kidneys and Joxer gasped as a sharp pain shot across his lower back. His mind reeling at the implications, Joxer tried to answer him but only managed a whimper before the God spoke again.
“Tell Asyinnitos to stay away from Cupid or I’ll make sure that you, and any other mortal she favours, are spread so far across Greece that she’ll be lucky if she finds you all.” The God’s tone was cruel but final; he obviously had every intention of making good on his threat, which was enough to spur Joxer into action.
Opening his mouth to scream for Xena or Hercules, Joxer was roughly pulled away from the tree but before he could form the words he was viciously slammed back against it, his hands splayed either side of his head. This time the crunch was more pronounced and blood streamed into his mouth as Joxer gagged, his stomach threatening to revolt as the trunk dug into it. His stomach…. Bucking in horror, Joxer tried to push his stomach away from the tree and give the baby some room. His thoughts centred on protecting Strife, Joxer no longer thought of calling for the demigods as he fought wildly with his attacker, bucking and twisting as violently as possible to throw him off whilst his hands covered the tiny bump. Even as Joxer felt a warm hand firmly twist one arm behind him causing a slow burn to flood his skin he fought, determined to keep at least one hand over the vulnerable bulge. A hand gripped the hair at the back of his head and the mortal tried desperately to pull away as he guessed his attacker’s intentions.
His mouth full of blood and gasping with exhaustion, Joxer mentally screamed to every Deity he knew could come as his head was smashed into the tree bark for the final time. It was a futile venture. Dizzy with exhaustion and from the pounding in his head, Joxer hung from his assailant’s hands unable to fight anymore. *I’m sorry I’m not a better fighter Strife, I hope you can protect yourself better then I can protect you,* The thought slowly crept through Joxer’s swimming mind as a few salty tears dropped from his eyes, the mortal couldn’t tell if his son had heard him or even if the baby was still alive, he just hoped someone would rescue them and save Strife.
As Joxer slumped against the tree the fight having taken its toll on his body, he felt a slight movement in his lower belly something he’d presumed to be either gas or food settling; as the movement came again Joxer closed his eyes trying to focus on it’s position, the strange gentle squirming was coming from the tiny bulge in his stomach and could only be one thing…Strife.
Regardless of his situation, a slow smile curved Joxer’s lips as he ignored the murmured threats behind him and centred all his focus on his son, the pain in his body dull in comparison. Not aware that Asyinnitos had arrived mid attack, Joxer was oblivious to how much power she’d wrapped around Strife to protect him and bind his powers whilst she beat at the assaulting God with her fists. It was only when his assailant dropped him that Joxer’s focus returned; slumping against the tree in pain, he somehow managed to twist his body around so that he faced the two Deities.
The God that had attacked him stood with his back to Joxer struggling with the panicked Goddess and purposefully blocking the mortal from her. Silently cheering when Asyinnitos managed to jab the God in his eye with her fist, Joxer managed to lock eyes with her as he struggled to pull himself up. He could see Asyinnitos was extremely pale and seemed to be straining though Joxer doubted it was the fighting that was responsible. Despite her size he’d seen the Goddess push Hercules to the ground without much effort, an impressive feat to Joxer. As the God tossed her casually aside and turned around, the anger on his face made Joxer’s stomach lurch upsetting Strife and making the baby squirm again; the mortal tried to back up against the tree trunk but his injured body refused to co-operate, all he could do was cover his stomach with his hands and stare helplessly up at the approaching menace.
Only when the God roughly lifted him up did Joxer see just how young his attacker was; the God appeared to be a teenager and not a very old teenager either, Joxer guessed he was no older then sixteen years. In confusion Joxer stared at him, taking in every detail of the God; even though he was dangling Joxer above the ground by his throat, the image in front of the mortal didn’t fit with the malicious attack. There was something familiar in the God’s features but Joxer couldn’t quite put his finger on it, his body was too battered and his mind too achy to process much more then what he saw in front of him.
The God was more then just gorgeous; he was beautiful and exuded a gentle sensuality that would, in any other situation, put a person at ease. Honey blonde hair surrounded the God’s face which curled at the neck adding to his youth; his dark blue eyes were piercing, framed by long dark lashes which gave him a slightly sultry look and the shape of his face and cheekbones almost enticed Joxer into cupping it with his hands. If his hands hadn’t been clawing at the God’s fingers, trying to release their hold. Joxer could only stare pleadingly at the God as he tried to peel the fingers from his throat; the mortal’s face was darkening by the second as he strained to breathe.
As oxygen became an issue, Joxer’s eyes dropped to Asyinnitos who had finally managed to stand up; as their eyes locked he saw fierce protectiveness in them, before she launched herself at the God’s back. Joxer felt the thump of her landing reverberate through the God’s arms and as the God dropped him to the floor, the mortal gasped in much needed air. Coughing and spluttering as he breathed Joxer almost doubled over as his lungs throbbed and he missed what would have been an entertaining view at any other time; Asyinnitos was clinging to the young God’s back, her toga askew as she wrapped her legs around his waist, her hands tugging at his face and hair; the young God was yelping in response as he tried to detach his determined leech and it appeared promising that the Goddess had the upper hand. Until the God flung himself back against a tree, which rocked violently as he slammed into it, squashing Asyinnitos in the process. As the God pulled himself from the tree, he easily dislodged the stunned Goddess and in a few quick strides, yanked Joxer to his unsteady feet.
As Joxer attempted to pull away from the rough grip that bruised his arm and lifted him onto his toes, the man’s gaze caught the rest of the God’s body and he stilled in disbelief, his focus diverted. The God shook him roughly as he noticed the man’s focus, more in annoyance then anger, and Joxer noticed a deep red blush work its way down from the God’s cheeks to underneath his tunic; presumably all the way to the two softly swelling mounds which the tunic tried to discretely hide.
Using the distraction, Asyinnitos managed to gather her energy and stand up; however many years Asyinnitos had on the other God, what she was doing to keep Strife hidden and unharmed was putting a great strain on her. She didn’t even have enough power to muster one fireball, not that she would risk it with Joxer so close to her target, all her power was diverted to ensuring the foetus’s survival; the rough treatment recently administered would normally have damaged, if not killed, any unborn infant- Godly or mortal. The remnants of power she scraped together were spent screaming telepathically for Ares as she moved slowly forward toward Joxer, her hands outstretched as she tried negotiating with the God.
“Put Joxer down,” Asyinnitos voice was as level as she could manage; the God’s proximity to her charges and his rough treatment of them made her blood boil as well as terrified her. When the God didn’t respond she tried again, “Hermaphroditus please put him down.”
Staring into the face of his assailant, Joxer’s eyes widened as he caught the name and his mind started to catch up. Hermaphroditus, Aphrodite’s love child who was rumoured to be almost too beautiful for mortal eyes and of whom only a few tales had reached Joxer’s ears. Bard’s tended not to write much of him, save warnings of his pool; Joxer had never seen anything more then a shrine in dedication to the God.
Whether it was the use of his name or the tone of her voice, Asyinnitos managed to capture Hermaphroditus’ attention and the young God’s eyes flicked to her as she slowly moved next to them. The Goddess was obviously taking care not to startle or set Hermaphroditus off in a rage, instead she was gently manoeuvring herself between him and Joxer, her pleading eyes locked to the young Gods.
“I’m sorry if something has upset you and if it was my curse…” Asyinnitos moved hurriedly on at the soft growl she got in response from Hermaphroditus, “But Zeus has decreed it cannot be lifted, hurting Joxer won’t change that; so please let him go. If you have a problem take it up with me, I'm to blame, he’s an innocent in it all and you’re still hurting him!” Her last few words were filled with horror and her plea held enough passion to convince the God to release Joxer-at least for now.
Loosening his grip, Hermaphroditus dropped Joxer to the floor eliciting a cry of pain from the injured mortal; an unhappy shamed look crossed the God’s face as he watched Joxer squirm backwards, as far away from him as possible, but the look faded after a moment and Hermaphroditus reached out to grab Asyinnitos by the shoulders instead.
The Goddess bit off a cry as Hermaphroditus shook her roughly and hissed in her face to ‘heed his warnings’; her power was still diverted to protect Strife and her energy levels were running too low to defend herself. She kept his gaze on Hermaphroditus but her power trained on Joxer and almost cried out in relief as the mortal managed to pull himself up. A split second later her whole body tensed as it came to her attention that Joxer was not running away, instead he had picked up a heavy branch and was advancing on Hermaphroditus, intent on forcing the God to release her. Squirming in an attempt to distract the God, Asyinnitos telepathically pleaded with the mortal to run and make his escape but Joxer being the man he was, refused to leave her in danger. The mortal wasn’t a hero by his strength and fighting skills but in every other sense of the word, he was a true Champion; a champion who would have, almost certainly, been blasted had help not arrived from an expected and extremely late quarter.
The flash that heralded Ares arrival was impressive, bright enough to make Joxer drop his stick and shield his eyes, but the intense fury on the God’s face was even more so. When Joxer uncovered his eyes and viewed the War God, his first response was to be aroused and alarmed at the same time whereas Hermaphroditus wisely settled for mildly terrified, the fear evident on his face as he released Asyinnitos and flashed quickly out.
Sagging in relief, Joxer felt his battered body come down off its adrenaline high as his legs gave out and Ares managed to break his fall before he hit the ground. In dazed confusion Joxer stared up at Ares, whose glare had faded into a concerned frown as he eased the man into a comfortable laying position noting the blood and bruising. Joxer couldn’t tell what Ares was thinking which, given the God’s current train of thought, was probably a good thing since the War God was inwardly seething at the impetuousness of Hermaphroditus. Ares being an expert strategist had put things together in the same manner Hermaphroditus had; given that the War God had first believed Joxer was Asyinnitos plaything, it made sense to him that the other God would have thought the same and been willing to use the mortal against her. It enraged Ares that the Godling would dare go against him in blatant disregard of Zeus’ words or that Hermaphroditus would try to touch something Ares considered his, be it as worshipper or other interest.
The War God also noticed his cousin’s lack of energy as she crawled over to Joxer and laid her hands against his belly. Only concerned for Strife and Joxer, Asyinnitos ignored Ares’ presence as she scanned Joxer's body hoping that her power had protected the baby enough. She sighed in relief as she finished her scan, she could see Joxer was injured and in need of rest but the power around Strife had also protected his father from any severe internal injury and external ones, she could deal with. Throughout her scan Joxer was silent; it was only when her sigh broke the silence that he spoke,
“Is he alright?” The man was hopeful that Strife had been protected but felt an enormous rush of relief as she nodded in confirmation, her smile widening as Joxer’s did. Neither Joxer nor Asyinnitos paid any attention to the War God behind them, neither one noticing his eyes narrow as he too scanned Joxer, Asyinnitos’ power levels to low to hide the mischief signature within the mortal. Had either looked at Ares, they would’ve noticed the disbelieving look that flooded the God’s face as he scanned Joxer for a second, then third and fourth time.
Ares couldn’t believe what he was sensing; he was normally prepared for everything, not willing to leave much open to Fate and never really surprised. What he saw when he scanned Joxer took him far above shock and surprise, into something completely different. Ares scanned the tiny signature within Joxer one last time, not because he expected it to change but because he felt compelled to, and felt the flicker of his nephew’s soul. His dead nephew’s soul. The nephew he’d believed was Joxer’s father because Ares could sense something of the mischief God in him. Ares didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He was amazed at his own ability to overlook the obvious and the completely insane. He was also impressed by the level of sneakiness and subterfuge some of his family members were capable of concocting, Asyinnitos and Cupid being the biggest offenders. Ares wasn’t sure if he should be insulted that no one saw fit to bring him in on the secret but the joy that filled him at a second chance with Strife overwhelmed the thought. Until he remembered Hermaphroditus’ attack on Joxer and the danger both the mortal and his unborn nephew were placed in.
Bending down next to Asyinnitos, Ares grasped her arm watching as the happy light faded from her eyes when she observed his expression. Ares guessed Hermaphroditus had planned to punish Joxer for Asyinnitos influence on Cupid and her cursing of Aphrodite. That itself was no one’s fault but the Godling’s whom Ares had every intention of chastising, but Asyinnitos had obviously taken responsibility for Joxer and she’d let him down, even if it was accidental. Ares valued the life within Joxer and was staring to appreciate the value of Joxer too much to let anything happen to either of them.
"Don’t ever hide something like this from me or put either of them at risk again. If you ever do,” Ares paused as he stared down at the paling Goddess, “I'm going to hurt you." He caught her chin with his fingers as she started to look away and forced her to look into his eyes, giving her some of his power to boost her energies as he spoke. “Don’t make me do that. Tell me the truth in future.” As he let her chin go Ares glanced at the man next to her, who had frozen in panic; Ares fingers hesitantly reached out stopping about a millimeter from Joxer’s belly before they drew back.
“Take him to Olympus and get him healed,” Ares words were soft but commanding nevertheless. He knew Asyinnitos would probably take him to her temple or to Gaia’s and either place was safer for him then Greece at the moment. At least until Ares had warned off Hermaphroditus and taken his own precautions to ensure Joxer and Strife’s safety. The last thing Ares saw before Asyinnitos did as he ordered was the look of trepidation on Joxer’s face. As the flash of their departure died down Ares decided to take it upon himself to make sure he never saw that look again. Ares had seen not to mention put better expressions on Joxer’s face and he fully intended, despite the circumstances, to keep seducing the mortal. Strife was a great bonus and an added problem in the seduction but Ares was determined to work around him.
The War God surveyed the clearing, noting the blood smeared tree and cleaning it with a thought. He paused in the process as he sensed his annoying half brother and friends nearby and an evil but justified thought hit him. Not one of the four had noticed the trauma Joxer had been through, nor come to search for him at any point, which didn’t sit well with Ares. Loyalty was a big must in War and it irked Ares when it was given but not received, he’d done it before to Joxer but at least he was making the effort to redeem himself. One hand movement later and the blood smears were back, ready for the heroes to find if they bothered to look.
Ares glanced one last time around the small clearing, understanding the worst outcome that could have become reality so very easily, before he flashed out leaving only silence and blood smears behind him.
TBC
Author: Wildannuette
Fandom: Xena/Herc
Permission to archive on Makebelieve: already there
Email:auxilary25248891@aol.com
Website: http://wildannuette.livejournal.com/
Rating: FRAO
Summary: Joxer gets attacked by an unexpected Diety and Ares finally gets a clue.
Warnings: mpreg
Notes:Thanks to Hallie for betaing and to Jo for her brainstorming over this plot.
Joxer moaned as teeth gently grazed from his earlobe, down his neck and nipped teasingly at the skin at the bottom; wetting his lips, Joxer made a noise in protest when the mouth was removed and he was rewarded with a familiar deep laugh as hands stroked his overheated and aroused body.
Joxer moaned as teeth gently grazed from his earlobe, down his neck and nipped teasingly at the skin at the bottom; wetting his lips, Joxer made a noise in protest when the mouth was removed and he was rewarded with a familiar deep laugh as hands stroked his overheated and aroused body. A pout on his lips Joxer locked eyes with his lover and rocked his body, rubbing against Ares. Joxer could feel the God’s arousal but Ares seemed determined to make their foreplay as torturously slow and prolonged as possible; writhing under Ares expert caresses, Joxer didn’t know when he had fallen out of Strife’s memories and into his own dreams but he wasn’t about to complain or in any hurry to wake up. He just wanted more heated touches and teasing kisses. Joxer was happy to worship Ares in every method and manner possible but his dream lover seemed frustratingly hell-bent on stopping him; just as the mortal managed to get his hands on Ares exposed flesh he felt a chill permeate his body and a bright light assaulted his eyes as he did a full body jerk into the waking world.
Coughing and spluttering the water from his mouth, Joxer rubbed his sore eyes and blinked back dots as the world slowly came into focus. Gabrielle’s frown and the half full bucket she held in her hands spoke volumes and Joxer eyed it slightly dubiously wondering if she was going to soak him again.
“Finally you’re awake,” Gabrielle’s voice was full of annoyance and Joxer had to suppress a wince as she stomped back to the fire and continued stirring the pots she was heating; that nasal a voice first thing in the morning set his teeth on edge and it was those days he wondered how he’d ever fancied himself in love with her- thank the God’s he’d grown out of it, for his sake and Strife’s.
Joxer crawled out of his blanket, glad the cold water had effectively dispelled his arousal; he wrung most of the water out of the blanket and his shirt before laying them in full view of the sun to dry. “How long has everyone been up?” he asked, careful to keep his voice neutral, the last thing he needed was any arguments.
Making no attempt to hide her annoyance, Gabrielle stopped stirring the vegetables she was cooking and frowned at him, “Well over an hour. We were hoping to move on early today but since you sleep like the dead, Xena insisted we make breakfast and wait for you.” Her tone of voice said more then just her words implied. Gabrielle obviously wouldn’t have been bothered about leaving him behind, a fact that stung Joxer making it clear to him that it was time for him to travel on his own. Not bothering with a reply, Joxer stood up keeping his gaze firmly fixed away from her as he headed the short distance to the river to bathe; only Xena’s refusal to leave him and the memory of his dream pushed him back into good spirits again.
Behind him, Gabrielle rolled her eyes turning her attention back to the (thankfully) finally cooked breakfast, her mouth dropping open in confusion as she stared down at the raw vegetables that barely simmered in the pan.
By the time Joxer had reached the river Gabrielle’s words had been forgotten and his arousal had returned with a vengeance so he quickly stripped off and walked into the chilly water. The river’s current was gentle enough that Joxer could wade into the middle and duck his body down briefly to rinse it. Vigorously rubbing his body with his cleaning rag, Joxer hoped that the rough treatment could do what the cold water could not. His hips were barely covered by the water when he stood up but his waning erection was hidden from view. Only when it was time to clean his stomach did Joxer pause; he was still worried about pressing too hard and upsetting the baby which was laughable in itself not only because Joxer had to be the only man in existence with that worry but because the baby in question was a God.
As he stared down at his stomach Joxer suddenly realised the usually flat, almost concave, shape had been replaced by a very gently swelling directly between his hipbones. It looked very unusual and Joxer couldn’t help running his hand down his body and cupping it as he realised the tiny bump was Strife; a feeling of immense protectiveness flooded Joxer and he swallowed hard as he understood, for the first time, that Strife was truly being reborn. Joxer’s friend was coming back to him in the best way possible- as his son. *The most vulnerable way too,* that thought pushed Joxer to wade out of the river and pull his trousers back on, ignoring the damp patches. Joxer knew Strife would be vulnerable without his powers and more so inside the most accident prone person in Greece, only Asyinnitos comments about Strife choosing him for a father and the reassuring swell he could feel pushed his worries aside. Instead he focused on breakfast, satisfying the deep hunger inside him and finding the right words to tell Xena at the next village, that he wished to part ways. Joxer was saddened by the loss of Xena’s company more so then anyone else’s; only Iolaus came a slightly close second, Joxer having reached a new understanding with him.
The mortal was so engrossed in wording his goodbyes properly that he didn’t notice the warning flash of colour behind him but did notice when something slammed against his back, forcing him face first against one of the trees and pinned him there.
Joxer heard the loud crunch before he felt the blinding pain that shot across his face as his nose took the brunt of the damage; one cheek was pressed against the bark of the tree, the rough surface scraping it as Joxer’s unknown attacker held him firmly despite the man attempts to pull away. Tasting copper, Joxer choked as he realised blood was tricking from his nose and into his mouth but there was little he could do, struggling had no effect on the person pinning him, if he was even a person at all; judging by his strength and ability to sneak around, Joxer guessed he was more then just mortal, more like a God-a very angry God. The voice that spoke softly in his ear startled him, not only because it was unfamiliar and unexpected but also because it was so very young and sensual.
“If you think this is bad you should see what my brothers can do,” there was cold amusement in his attacker's voice but Joxer caught the hidden warning, he had no intention of inflaming his assailant and having him call for reinforcements. Remaining as still as possible, Joxer tried to listen ignoring how much his body wanted to tear away.
“Which brings me to why I am here; brother’s or rather just one brother in fact, Cupid.” As the mortal digested the realisation that he was certainly dealing with a God, the God in question paused briefly as if to give Joxer time to interrupt before continuing, “he’s been through enough already as has the rest of my family they don’t need this forum or this hassle so back off!” The last words were punctuated by a malicious punch to his kidneys and Joxer gasped as a sharp pain shot across his lower back. His mind reeling at the implications, Joxer tried to answer him but only managed a whimper before the God spoke again.
“Tell Asyinnitos to stay away from Cupid or I’ll make sure that you, and any other mortal she favours, are spread so far across Greece that she’ll be lucky if she finds you all.” The God’s tone was cruel but final; he obviously had every intention of making good on his threat, which was enough to spur Joxer into action.
Opening his mouth to scream for Xena or Hercules, Joxer was roughly pulled away from the tree but before he could form the words he was viciously slammed back against it, his hands splayed either side of his head. This time the crunch was more pronounced and blood streamed into his mouth as Joxer gagged, his stomach threatening to revolt as the trunk dug into it. His stomach…. Bucking in horror, Joxer tried to push his stomach away from the tree and give the baby some room. His thoughts centred on protecting Strife, Joxer no longer thought of calling for the demigods as he fought wildly with his attacker, bucking and twisting as violently as possible to throw him off whilst his hands covered the tiny bump. Even as Joxer felt a warm hand firmly twist one arm behind him causing a slow burn to flood his skin he fought, determined to keep at least one hand over the vulnerable bulge. A hand gripped the hair at the back of his head and the mortal tried desperately to pull away as he guessed his attacker’s intentions.
His mouth full of blood and gasping with exhaustion, Joxer mentally screamed to every Deity he knew could come as his head was smashed into the tree bark for the final time. It was a futile venture. Dizzy with exhaustion and from the pounding in his head, Joxer hung from his assailant’s hands unable to fight anymore. *I’m sorry I’m not a better fighter Strife, I hope you can protect yourself better then I can protect you,* The thought slowly crept through Joxer’s swimming mind as a few salty tears dropped from his eyes, the mortal couldn’t tell if his son had heard him or even if the baby was still alive, he just hoped someone would rescue them and save Strife.
As Joxer slumped against the tree the fight having taken its toll on his body, he felt a slight movement in his lower belly something he’d presumed to be either gas or food settling; as the movement came again Joxer closed his eyes trying to focus on it’s position, the strange gentle squirming was coming from the tiny bulge in his stomach and could only be one thing…Strife.
Regardless of his situation, a slow smile curved Joxer’s lips as he ignored the murmured threats behind him and centred all his focus on his son, the pain in his body dull in comparison. Not aware that Asyinnitos had arrived mid attack, Joxer was oblivious to how much power she’d wrapped around Strife to protect him and bind his powers whilst she beat at the assaulting God with her fists. It was only when his assailant dropped him that Joxer’s focus returned; slumping against the tree in pain, he somehow managed to twist his body around so that he faced the two Deities.
The God that had attacked him stood with his back to Joxer struggling with the panicked Goddess and purposefully blocking the mortal from her. Silently cheering when Asyinnitos managed to jab the God in his eye with her fist, Joxer managed to lock eyes with her as he struggled to pull himself up. He could see Asyinnitos was extremely pale and seemed to be straining though Joxer doubted it was the fighting that was responsible. Despite her size he’d seen the Goddess push Hercules to the ground without much effort, an impressive feat to Joxer. As the God tossed her casually aside and turned around, the anger on his face made Joxer’s stomach lurch upsetting Strife and making the baby squirm again; the mortal tried to back up against the tree trunk but his injured body refused to co-operate, all he could do was cover his stomach with his hands and stare helplessly up at the approaching menace.
Only when the God roughly lifted him up did Joxer see just how young his attacker was; the God appeared to be a teenager and not a very old teenager either, Joxer guessed he was no older then sixteen years. In confusion Joxer stared at him, taking in every detail of the God; even though he was dangling Joxer above the ground by his throat, the image in front of the mortal didn’t fit with the malicious attack. There was something familiar in the God’s features but Joxer couldn’t quite put his finger on it, his body was too battered and his mind too achy to process much more then what he saw in front of him.
The God was more then just gorgeous; he was beautiful and exuded a gentle sensuality that would, in any other situation, put a person at ease. Honey blonde hair surrounded the God’s face which curled at the neck adding to his youth; his dark blue eyes were piercing, framed by long dark lashes which gave him a slightly sultry look and the shape of his face and cheekbones almost enticed Joxer into cupping it with his hands. If his hands hadn’t been clawing at the God’s fingers, trying to release their hold. Joxer could only stare pleadingly at the God as he tried to peel the fingers from his throat; the mortal’s face was darkening by the second as he strained to breathe.
As oxygen became an issue, Joxer’s eyes dropped to Asyinnitos who had finally managed to stand up; as their eyes locked he saw fierce protectiveness in them, before she launched herself at the God’s back. Joxer felt the thump of her landing reverberate through the God’s arms and as the God dropped him to the floor, the mortal gasped in much needed air. Coughing and spluttering as he breathed Joxer almost doubled over as his lungs throbbed and he missed what would have been an entertaining view at any other time; Asyinnitos was clinging to the young God’s back, her toga askew as she wrapped her legs around his waist, her hands tugging at his face and hair; the young God was yelping in response as he tried to detach his determined leech and it appeared promising that the Goddess had the upper hand. Until the God flung himself back against a tree, which rocked violently as he slammed into it, squashing Asyinnitos in the process. As the God pulled himself from the tree, he easily dislodged the stunned Goddess and in a few quick strides, yanked Joxer to his unsteady feet.
As Joxer attempted to pull away from the rough grip that bruised his arm and lifted him onto his toes, the man’s gaze caught the rest of the God’s body and he stilled in disbelief, his focus diverted. The God shook him roughly as he noticed the man’s focus, more in annoyance then anger, and Joxer noticed a deep red blush work its way down from the God’s cheeks to underneath his tunic; presumably all the way to the two softly swelling mounds which the tunic tried to discretely hide.
Using the distraction, Asyinnitos managed to gather her energy and stand up; however many years Asyinnitos had on the other God, what she was doing to keep Strife hidden and unharmed was putting a great strain on her. She didn’t even have enough power to muster one fireball, not that she would risk it with Joxer so close to her target, all her power was diverted to ensuring the foetus’s survival; the rough treatment recently administered would normally have damaged, if not killed, any unborn infant- Godly or mortal. The remnants of power she scraped together were spent screaming telepathically for Ares as she moved slowly forward toward Joxer, her hands outstretched as she tried negotiating with the God.
“Put Joxer down,” Asyinnitos voice was as level as she could manage; the God’s proximity to her charges and his rough treatment of them made her blood boil as well as terrified her. When the God didn’t respond she tried again, “Hermaphroditus please put him down.”
Staring into the face of his assailant, Joxer’s eyes widened as he caught the name and his mind started to catch up. Hermaphroditus, Aphrodite’s love child who was rumoured to be almost too beautiful for mortal eyes and of whom only a few tales had reached Joxer’s ears. Bard’s tended not to write much of him, save warnings of his pool; Joxer had never seen anything more then a shrine in dedication to the God.
Whether it was the use of his name or the tone of her voice, Asyinnitos managed to capture Hermaphroditus’ attention and the young God’s eyes flicked to her as she slowly moved next to them. The Goddess was obviously taking care not to startle or set Hermaphroditus off in a rage, instead she was gently manoeuvring herself between him and Joxer, her pleading eyes locked to the young Gods.
“I’m sorry if something has upset you and if it was my curse…” Asyinnitos moved hurriedly on at the soft growl she got in response from Hermaphroditus, “But Zeus has decreed it cannot be lifted, hurting Joxer won’t change that; so please let him go. If you have a problem take it up with me, I'm to blame, he’s an innocent in it all and you’re still hurting him!” Her last few words were filled with horror and her plea held enough passion to convince the God to release Joxer-at least for now.
Loosening his grip, Hermaphroditus dropped Joxer to the floor eliciting a cry of pain from the injured mortal; an unhappy shamed look crossed the God’s face as he watched Joxer squirm backwards, as far away from him as possible, but the look faded after a moment and Hermaphroditus reached out to grab Asyinnitos by the shoulders instead.
The Goddess bit off a cry as Hermaphroditus shook her roughly and hissed in her face to ‘heed his warnings’; her power was still diverted to protect Strife and her energy levels were running too low to defend herself. She kept his gaze on Hermaphroditus but her power trained on Joxer and almost cried out in relief as the mortal managed to pull himself up. A split second later her whole body tensed as it came to her attention that Joxer was not running away, instead he had picked up a heavy branch and was advancing on Hermaphroditus, intent on forcing the God to release her. Squirming in an attempt to distract the God, Asyinnitos telepathically pleaded with the mortal to run and make his escape but Joxer being the man he was, refused to leave her in danger. The mortal wasn’t a hero by his strength and fighting skills but in every other sense of the word, he was a true Champion; a champion who would have, almost certainly, been blasted had help not arrived from an expected and extremely late quarter.
The flash that heralded Ares arrival was impressive, bright enough to make Joxer drop his stick and shield his eyes, but the intense fury on the God’s face was even more so. When Joxer uncovered his eyes and viewed the War God, his first response was to be aroused and alarmed at the same time whereas Hermaphroditus wisely settled for mildly terrified, the fear evident on his face as he released Asyinnitos and flashed quickly out.
Sagging in relief, Joxer felt his battered body come down off its adrenaline high as his legs gave out and Ares managed to break his fall before he hit the ground. In dazed confusion Joxer stared up at Ares, whose glare had faded into a concerned frown as he eased the man into a comfortable laying position noting the blood and bruising. Joxer couldn’t tell what Ares was thinking which, given the God’s current train of thought, was probably a good thing since the War God was inwardly seething at the impetuousness of Hermaphroditus. Ares being an expert strategist had put things together in the same manner Hermaphroditus had; given that the War God had first believed Joxer was Asyinnitos plaything, it made sense to him that the other God would have thought the same and been willing to use the mortal against her. It enraged Ares that the Godling would dare go against him in blatant disregard of Zeus’ words or that Hermaphroditus would try to touch something Ares considered his, be it as worshipper or other interest.
The War God also noticed his cousin’s lack of energy as she crawled over to Joxer and laid her hands against his belly. Only concerned for Strife and Joxer, Asyinnitos ignored Ares’ presence as she scanned Joxer's body hoping that her power had protected the baby enough. She sighed in relief as she finished her scan, she could see Joxer was injured and in need of rest but the power around Strife had also protected his father from any severe internal injury and external ones, she could deal with. Throughout her scan Joxer was silent; it was only when her sigh broke the silence that he spoke,
“Is he alright?” The man was hopeful that Strife had been protected but felt an enormous rush of relief as she nodded in confirmation, her smile widening as Joxer’s did. Neither Joxer nor Asyinnitos paid any attention to the War God behind them, neither one noticing his eyes narrow as he too scanned Joxer, Asyinnitos’ power levels to low to hide the mischief signature within the mortal. Had either looked at Ares, they would’ve noticed the disbelieving look that flooded the God’s face as he scanned Joxer for a second, then third and fourth time.
Ares couldn’t believe what he was sensing; he was normally prepared for everything, not willing to leave much open to Fate and never really surprised. What he saw when he scanned Joxer took him far above shock and surprise, into something completely different. Ares scanned the tiny signature within Joxer one last time, not because he expected it to change but because he felt compelled to, and felt the flicker of his nephew’s soul. His dead nephew’s soul. The nephew he’d believed was Joxer’s father because Ares could sense something of the mischief God in him. Ares didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He was amazed at his own ability to overlook the obvious and the completely insane. He was also impressed by the level of sneakiness and subterfuge some of his family members were capable of concocting, Asyinnitos and Cupid being the biggest offenders. Ares wasn’t sure if he should be insulted that no one saw fit to bring him in on the secret but the joy that filled him at a second chance with Strife overwhelmed the thought. Until he remembered Hermaphroditus’ attack on Joxer and the danger both the mortal and his unborn nephew were placed in.
Bending down next to Asyinnitos, Ares grasped her arm watching as the happy light faded from her eyes when she observed his expression. Ares guessed Hermaphroditus had planned to punish Joxer for Asyinnitos influence on Cupid and her cursing of Aphrodite. That itself was no one’s fault but the Godling’s whom Ares had every intention of chastising, but Asyinnitos had obviously taken responsibility for Joxer and she’d let him down, even if it was accidental. Ares valued the life within Joxer and was staring to appreciate the value of Joxer too much to let anything happen to either of them.
"Don’t ever hide something like this from me or put either of them at risk again. If you ever do,” Ares paused as he stared down at the paling Goddess, “I'm going to hurt you." He caught her chin with his fingers as she started to look away and forced her to look into his eyes, giving her some of his power to boost her energies as he spoke. “Don’t make me do that. Tell me the truth in future.” As he let her chin go Ares glanced at the man next to her, who had frozen in panic; Ares fingers hesitantly reached out stopping about a millimeter from Joxer’s belly before they drew back.
“Take him to Olympus and get him healed,” Ares words were soft but commanding nevertheless. He knew Asyinnitos would probably take him to her temple or to Gaia’s and either place was safer for him then Greece at the moment. At least until Ares had warned off Hermaphroditus and taken his own precautions to ensure Joxer and Strife’s safety. The last thing Ares saw before Asyinnitos did as he ordered was the look of trepidation on Joxer’s face. As the flash of their departure died down Ares decided to take it upon himself to make sure he never saw that look again. Ares had seen not to mention put better expressions on Joxer’s face and he fully intended, despite the circumstances, to keep seducing the mortal. Strife was a great bonus and an added problem in the seduction but Ares was determined to work around him.
The War God surveyed the clearing, noting the blood smeared tree and cleaning it with a thought. He paused in the process as he sensed his annoying half brother and friends nearby and an evil but justified thought hit him. Not one of the four had noticed the trauma Joxer had been through, nor come to search for him at any point, which didn’t sit well with Ares. Loyalty was a big must in War and it irked Ares when it was given but not received, he’d done it before to Joxer but at least he was making the effort to redeem himself. One hand movement later and the blood smears were back, ready for the heroes to find if they bothered to look.
Ares glanced one last time around the small clearing, understanding the worst outcome that could have become reality so very easily, before he flashed out leaving only silence and blood smears behind him.
TBC