Never Forget
By Valancy

I awaken, and suddenly realize that I'm unable to move my arms.  They're stretched above my head.

I look up, and behold a god.

He flashes me his own trademark salacious grin.

I focus on his mouth, those chiseled, full, sensuous lips.  White teeth gleam at me as he speaks.  "Good morning, Gabrielle."

I narrow my eyes.  "Ares."  I jerk at my bindings, though I realize that if  he doesn't want me free, then I just won't be.  "What am I doing here?"

"It will be better for you if you stop tugging at your, er, restraints.  You  will be here for only a short time, I promise.  Unless you choose to stay."  His voice is deep  and his words linger in the air, long after he speaks.

I couldn't help but laugh.  "You really are stretchin' it."

"We'll see."

I grit my teeth.  "Once more, just what am I doing here?"

"Hmm. . . ?"  He blinks.  "Ah.  Right.  It's just that I've been wondering what this moment would feel like since--"

"You're not going to hurt me."

He looks surprised.  I decide that it must be at least partially feigned.   "No.  Such a thought could never have occurred to me."

I snort ungracefully.  "Yeah, right."

Ares picks up his goblet and takes another long draught from it.  When he puts the cup down, he runs his tongue over his lips, and focuses his eyes on me.

I try to return his gaze, really I do.  Xena's taught me nearly everything I need to know about being confronted with an enemy, and one of her most important warnings is to never be the first to waver.  Never let your eye so much as flicker.  Watch your enemy.  Know your enemy by his eyes.  But those hot black orbs-- the man is a god.  His internal fire is lit by a thousand warriors who are, at any moment, fighting for him.  It's not easy to stare him down.  Dammit, Gabby, fight.

"Yes, Gabrielle, fight."  His voice, dripping with honey, could make anything at all seem sexual.

"Stop it!  Stop this sick little game of yours.  I don't understand the rules, I don't know what I'm supposed to do."  I yank fiercely at my bonds once more.  "Is it about Xena?  Why do I even ask?  Of course it's Xena, it's always Xena.  You're using me as bait.  I'm so fucking tired of being the bait."

"This has nothing to do with her," he says.

I would have spoken, but he is suddenly before me, close enough that his breath whispered over my face.  His wicked leer flickers once more as he bent and catches my lips with his.

Startled, I don't move.  His tongue prods my lips, hot and moist.  The quick stab that  I feel, a jolt between my legs, causes me to lurch back.  There is nowhere to escape, though, and he only watches me.  Now his face is hard, like stone, but, oh, his eyes. . .

* * * *

Her first reaction to my kiss is defiance.  She is confused, and frustrated by her vulnerability.

Now, however, she is terrified.  She wants me.  She doesn't like it.

She doesn't trust me.  I know I shouldn't blame her for that, really.  She's known, ever since first since meeting me, that I've been pursuing Xena, her great friend, her great love.  That I'm untrustworthy.  Conniving, egotistical, wicked.

But for now Gabrielle is mine.

Her wrists are fettered tightly enough to make any movement uncomfortable.  She still strains against them as her eyes, sharp green and glittering with hatred, meet mine.

This girl hates me.  So beautiful, so innocent.  Naive.  Trusting.  Blind.

Yet she knows enough to keep her guard around me.  Xena is a marvelous teacher.  She as many skills.  I'm sure she has taught Gabrielle to trust no man.

Except perhaps Hercules.  The one man incapable of erring.  And Iolaus, that cocksucker.

Why *did* I abduct this bit of a girl?

I've wanted her for some time.  Peace-loving, poetry-spouting, Dahak-fucking lass that she is.

She has kept Xena from me.  No easy feat.  Xena's soul, dark as my own, wants to return to what she once was, what she really is.  But something, be it really great head or true nobility of heart, makes her continue to spurn me.

I don't understand what makes me itch for this bitch so much.  I've always thought of her as "that irritating little blonde," but something about her just demands my attention.

"Screw me hard.  Make me scream.  Feel me from the inside."  That's what I imagine she is saying every time her soft lips curve into a smile.

It's not her looks that draw me.  I've done Hope, her daughter and spitting image.  I got some satisfaction out of that, but that girl tended to try to rip out my throat during the deepest throes of passion.  I think it was an instinctual reaction.

No.  It's more than that Gabby would make a good fuck.  Which I'm sure is true.

It's her purity.

Yes, I know.  It's all very trite.  Bad boy of the Gods wants to dirty sweet little virgin.  Zeus, Apollo, Poseidon, Hades-- all of them indulge in deflowering the countryside and scattering half-breed brats whenever they've got the spare time.

But this-- it's different.  She's clean.  Perhaps exasperatingly so.  But she is genuine.

She's not even technically innocent.  She's been through a lot of shit in her life.  She's seen a million kinds of evil.  She's birthed a demon, for Zeus' sake.

It hasn't changed her.  There's a firmness, something with the strength of steel inside that lithe little body.

I know what you're thinking.  That I want to reach that part of her, possess it, taint it. That the destructive part of me wants to crush her noble little spirit, and glory in its loss.

You're wrong.

All I want to experience her, feel her own singular warmth.  Enjoy her.

As if it would make me better.  I know it's stupid, unrealistic.  But I need to try.

Her lips, when I tasted them, were sweet and soft and pliant.  I need more.

She pulled away from me--she can't go anywhere, of course.

I'm angry, but I do not blame her.  Initially she is going to fight me.

Her eyes never leave mine.

That is to my advantage.

I reach up and place my palm to her cheek.  She winces, but does not bother pulling away.  I keep my hand still, getting her used to my touch.

"I want you.  Very much."

Her lips part as she takes this in.  Then her face darkens.

"What do you want from me?"

She still thinks I'm using her.  To get to Xena.

"I want a good deal from you," I say, and lean forward to kiss her again.  She cries out before my lips lock over hers, and I urge my tongue into her mouth.

Her knees buckle.  I place my hands over her trim ass, and hold her body up against mine.

She is now an active participant.  Her lips move against mine, and she is breathing rapidly.

I push her up, and her thighs lock around my hips.  I shiver as I feel my cock bulge against her warm little body. . .

Part 2

I shut my eyes and just-- feel him.  The leather-sheathed body, the thick and solid muscles, the heat radiating from him.

Utterly delicious.

I ache to touch his hair-- and my arms are untied.  He has freed me.  When I  shove my fingers into his soft dark curls, he lifts his head and looks at me.

He says nothing.  My fingers are tangled in his hair.  He is supporting me  against the wall, and my legs are still wrapped around him.

I'm scared shitless.  But I want him, very badly.

I know this is wrong.  This man is War.  This man is hate and violence and destruction.  He is the cruelest of the Olympian gods, whose very existence depends on the suffering and death of mortals like me.

He knows what I feel, what I am thinking.  I see that he is prepared for rejection.  He is different, now.  Or is it I who am different?  Has he always been the fiend, the absolute incarnation of evil that I have believed him to be?

His eyes are ominous, his cock against me is hard and demanding, and his scowl is terrifying.  He is not asking me to pretend that he is a sweet, gentle soul.   No Perdicus here.  But he is honest.

And I realize that I am not afraid.

"Will you?" he asks, gravely.  "You would have to trust me."

I hesitate.  "Would you let me go?  That is, if I told you that I wouldn't."

His mouth tightens, all of this is maddening to him, but--  "Yes."  And I understand that this is the truth.

"Ares."  I kiss the tip of his beautiful nose.  "I want you to fuck me."

He sucks in his breath, and recaptures my lips.  I giggle and cross my arms behind his neck.

We're in a bedchamber, I realize.  He's brought me to his own, in one of his temples.

He disentangles our bodies, swings me up into his arms, and carries me to the bed.  It's huge, and the counterpane is of rich silk, cool and luscious against my skin.  He places me on it, and begins to undress me.  Slowly.  He is very careful to touch my body as little as possible.  When my skin does come into contact with his, I stop breathing for moments at a time, but he is avoiding my eyes.

I can take no more of this.  I want to shove him onto his back and impale myself on that great godly--

Not a bad idea.

"Ares, I want you naked."

He only blinks for a moment, then complies.  With a snap of his fingers, he's bare.

Oh, yes.

I stare at him for whole minutes.  He's beautiful-- very aware of it, too.  He enjoys this.  He is delighting in my scrutiny.

The hair on his body is certainly profuse, and really very appealing.  Bronzed skin, rippling muscles.  I run my hand over his chest, brushing his nipples.  His arms twitch at his side, and he groans.  I lean over to flick my tongue over one.  He swears, and I laugh as I run my hand over his thickly-muscled belly.

I finally gather up enough courage to look at his cock.  He's ready for me.  More than ready.  Closing my eyes, I reach for him.  This time, he starts violently, and grabs my wrist.

I pull my arm against his grasp.  He releases me.  Reluctantly.

My fingers close around him again.  He gasps, the first time, and I stroke his shaft, gently oving my fingers up and down.  First touching the head with fluttering fingertips, then grasping the base.

He's very big.  Not that I'm surprised.  I've always known he would be.  A god, and virile as hell.

He stares at me, waiting for me to proceed.  I crack a smile, and he shuts his eyes.  It's killing him.

Sighing, I return my attentions to his body.  I caress his cock once more, and move  my body over his.

He's not moving.  I move my body over his, and guide him slowly into my body.

His eyes fly open and focus on me.  I bend forward and push my tongue into his mouth.

He clutches my ass with his hands as I begin to move my hips.  He's not fully within me yet, and I shift so that he's deeper inside.  I rock slowly over him, and throw my head back, glorying in the experience, never wanting to forget any of this.  He starts thrusting into me, hard and fast, hurting me.  I cry out as the climax hits me and his seed spills into me.  He yells my name, drowning me out, and collapse over him.

* * * *

She's small, so fragile.  I'm afraid that, with the way I've been slamming into her, I'm hurting her.

She comes.  Her luxuriant hair pours over her shoulders, her lips are swollen, her skin is flushed pink.  From my kisses, from my fucking.


Her body is draped over mine, limp.  She is panting, hard.  I place my hand on one of her breasts, feel the supple weight of it.  She stirs, and I wince, realizing that our bodies are still actually connected.

I am not entirely sure I understand what has happened to both of us.  I've brought her here, intending to tease her, screw her, and drop her back into Xena's lap.  But this is different.  I don't want to let go of her.  Not now, not later.

And I want her again.

"I haven't hurt you, have I?"  I ask, concerned.  Alas, I want to fuck her again, but she will have to recover from the last time.

After a long pause, as she fights to slow her breath, she says, "I-- am fine."

I'm still cupping her breasts, learning the feel of them.  Familiarizing myself with her body.


She moves, just a little.  I grunt as I feel her body from the inside, trying not to lose my head.  Her lips skim over my shoulder, and she gently sinks her teeth into me.

Before I can react to the quick pain, her tongue is laving over the teeth marks.  I decide not to heal myself, leave the love-bite there for now.

Gingerly, I move her off my body.  She blinks down at me, but grins when she realizes that I'm going to do.  I place her on her back, and spread her thighs.  She gasps as my palm touches her cunt.  She's wet, and my semen is dripping down her thighs.  I put my fingers over her clitoris, and she moans, clutching the rumpled sheets at her side.  I stroke her sensitive skin.  She cries aloud, and I feel my own cock ache in response.

Never mind, Ares.  Make her scream.

I lower my mouth and lick her cunt.  She is crying now.  Her hands move to my hair, and her body is tense.  She arches her back, and claws at my shoulders.

I taste her, push my tongue into her once more, and she climaxes.  Shrieking my name, fingers reaching for my hair, lost.

When she opens her eyes I flip her onto her stomach.

* * * *

He takes me from behind, forcing me onto my knees, arms holding me up.  I gasp as he plunges into me, almost brutal.  Again and again, that cock thrusts into me, his hairy belly and groin tight embracing my ass.  His cock, hard and furious, pushes me over the edge and I sob as I release yet again.  His semen, hot and thick, gushes into me, and it is all I can do to stay conscious.

He withdraws from me, and I almost collapse, but he pulls me into his arms and just holds me.  Our mouths find each other and we kiss again.  No tongue, just a soft, sweet joining of the lips.

He strokes my hair, now mussed and a little damp, and asks, "Would you mind taking a bath with me?"

"With the big, bad God of War?"  I smile and run my hand down the length of his cock.  It springs to attention.  "Must you ask?"

Using one of those many godly powers, he conjures a huge, steaming bathtub.  We fit ery nicely in it, and after soaping each other until we are both breathless, we return to the bed to make love again.  Slowly, exultantly, rejoicing in each other's body.

I know that I will leave.  He knows this, too.

I comb my fingers through his sopping curls, and lick a trickling droplet off his lobe.

"I still don't exactly believe this."

"This?  What do you mean?"  His expression is unfathomable, but I get the feeling that, somehow, he's hurt.

No, Gabrielle, don't read too much into this.

"Ares, I--"  I sighed.  "I never really believed that it would be possible for us to-- to--"

"Fuck.  Come on, Gabs, say it, dear.  Fuck."

I stare at him.  This is all wrong.  The accusation in the twist of his mouth, the faint mockery in those eyes.  "Ares, please don't do this."

He smiles.  "What, sweet Gabrielle?  Would you prefer that we continue deluding ourselves?  We've fucked.  We both wanted it, and we'll leave it this way."

"I didn't think of it like that, Ares," I manage to say.

"All you need to do is make certain that Xena never finds out about this."

I wince.  "Please, Ares.  Take me back.  I can't stay here, with you."

He leans over to kiss me.  This time it is brutal, fierce, searing.  His lips demand something of me, to this day I know not what, but I do not fight.

I do not respond.  I will not move.

He lifts up his head.  "Goodbye, Gabrielle."

There is darkness.  It is only momentary, however, and then I am alone, on a beach.  A familiar beach.

Only some dozen yards from where Xena and I had set up camp.

It is still night.  By looking at the stars, I realize that all of what we did had happened outside of time.  Perhaps if I hurry, she will think that I never left.

I am grateful that he has bothered to restore my clothes.  It is a cold night.

Hugging myself, I trudge back to Xena.

Maybe someday I will have forgotten all of this.

"No.  I will never forget."  I vow aloud.  "Damn."  I pause, stare up at the heavens. "Ares, you damned coward. Couldn't you have tried?"  I take a deep, shaky breath and refuse to cry.

* * * *

I had to leave her that way.  I wish I didn't.

But she is not mine.

I don't really understand why I did what I did.  It certainly hasn't made me stop wanting her.  And now I know that she does, in some cryptic way which she would never admit to, give a damn about me.

I can't ask for more.  Belonging to me would change her.  Irrevocably.

I remember what little we've had together.  That is enough, I think.

The End