Author's Note I: I removed this story earlier this year because of reasons very personal. Since then, I've had an outpouring of people who have reached out to me and expressed just how much this story resonated with them. I appreciate all of your kind words and respect your individual perspectives. Because of that, I've decided to repost this story. However, there may be changes other than the typos and grammatical errors that I intend to fix in each chapter before I post. My goal is to post the chapters weekly because I really want to do justice to the edits. I've left the original author's note below as a disclaimer for folks who may not want to read this type of content.

Author's Note II:I've been wanting to try a BDSM fic for Xena/Ares for a while. I realize that for some of my readers this will not be your cup of tea. I understand and appreciate that. This story will explore the darker aspects of both Xena and Ares's personalities, but it is really a story about trust and acceptance. If female submission and male domination bothers you or makes you uncomfortable in any way, this is probably not the fiction for you.

Sweet Surrender

Xena, Gabrielle, and Virgil sat in Meg's Athenian tavern getting caught up over mugs of ale. Gabrielle had just regaled Virgil with tales about their trip to the Norse lands. Virgil, a burgeoning poet gave the bard his undivided attention, which was more than could be said for Xena. The warrior wasn't in the mood for legendary tales. Xena excused herself and walked over to the bar where Meg was cleaning up after a group of mercenaries who had just vacated the premises.

"Meg, how go things. How's business?" Xena placed her empty tankard on the bar Meg had just wiped off.

"Can't complain. Don't make as much slinging drinks as I did slinging my. . ."

"I got ya," Xena held up her hand to wield off what she was certain would be one of Meg's more colorful descriptions of her life as a prostitute.

"You ready for a fill up?" Meg pointed to Xena's mug.

"Sure, I can handle another," Xena tossed two more dinars onto the bar as Meg refilled Xena's cup form a pewter pitcher.

"Looks like you'll be sleeping alone tonight," Meg whispered to the warrior as she dunked dirty glasses into a pan of dishwater. Xena cast a glance over her shoulder to Gabrielle and Virgil who had moved closer to the main hearth. They sat on a small sofa together, their legs mere inches apart. Gabrielle rubbed his forearm as she continued with her stories. Xena had wondered for a while now if Gabrielle and Virgil were ever going to act on their mutual attraction. It looked like tonight might be that night.

"Don't be mad," Meg said, "he's a young man, he could use a teacher."

"Suppose," Xena looked back to Meg and downed her freshly filled tankard.

"You know, there's no reason for you to be lonely tonight," Meg gestured over Xena's other shoulder. Xena took a quick peek to see what in Hades her aged look-a-like was talking about. She saw a grimy looking warlord eyeing her lasciviously.

"No thanks, Meg. Not my type."

"Really, If I recall correctly, you nearly married the God of War." Meg harrumphed.

"That sleaze-bucket isn't anywhere near the same level of dangerous as Ares." Nor handsome, Xena thought, but she kept it to herself.

"So, you do have a thing for him?" Meg had always wondered exactly how deep Xena's relationship with Ares went.

"I do not have a thing for Ares. I'm just saying that that filthy mongrel that you are ogling isn't fit to wipe his boots."

"Uh-huh, if you say so," Meg wiped her hands on her apron. "Want another drink?"

"No, I am good, I think I'll just get some fresh night air. Clear my head. If Gabrielle asks after me can you tell her I went for a stroll?"

"Sure, but I doubt she'll even notice," Meg guffawed.

Xena took one last look at the bard and poet all cozied up by the fire. She had to admit that Meg was probably right. Gabrielle wouldn't miss her til morning. She pushed the door open and headed out into the chilled night air.

ɤ ɤ

Xena walked through the crowded streets of Athens. The night was loud with music and revelers even though it was nearing midnight. She looked up toward the Acropolis. The crescent moon was high in the sky above the Parthenon. Even in the dark she could make out Aeropagus (Ares' Hill). She thought briefly about making the hike up the hill, just to work off some stress. She wasn't upset with Gabrielle about Virgil. She wasn't jealous, she was happy that her companion had found someone with whom she could connect. She wasn't exactly jealous, but she might have been a little envious. How long had it been since she had been with a man intimately? Or even just for a quick roll in the hay? The last time she'd even come close to intimacy with a man was when Ares was filling her head full of that ridiculous scorpion and swan fable. And while that might have left her a little hot and bothered, it didn't exactly qualify as sex. Close, but no laurel wreath. She was getting tired of hurried orgasms before bedtime. Her body yearned for more.

As she continued to amble through town, she came to an intersection and chose to take the road that led to the seedier side of town. She knew its reputation well from the years she spent as a warlord. The last few times they'd visited Athens, she'd avoided the area like a contagious disease. But now, there were few living who would recognize her from the old days. The street grew progressively darker as she moved farther away from the main thoroughfare. Fewer businesses provided braziers at their entryways. The smell of ale and smoke grew stronger. She heard the familiar sounds of rutting radiating from black alleyways. No sounds of distress, only amicable, illicit transactions.

Soon, she found herself standing in front of a red painted door. A round symbol was etched on the door. It looked almost like her chakram but instead of being bisected, it was trisected. Each section bore a dot. She'd patronized such an establishment before, but it had been ages. This was exactly what she needed tonight, she thought. Somewhere she could go relieve some sexual tension without any consequences on the morrow. She let her hand linger on the etching for a few seconds before she pushed open the door to the BDSM club.