Gifted

He stood next to the tiny crib that cradled the most recent addition to his family. Bitter disappointment threatened to chock him. A girl. He couldn't believe it. His son was enough of a let down, so much like his mother, was he, but this...daughter...was something else.

At the age of six winters, his son was a pacifist, preferring to play girl-child's games as opposed to the fights and scuffles of other boys his age. From his loins, he had produced nothing of any worth to gift his god, no one to pass on his army, his teachings...his legacy.

There was only one thing to do if he was to stay in the good graces of his god.

He picked the child up out of her crib and mounted his horse in the direction of Ares' nearest temple.

He entered the temple when the moon was high, taking his daughter, barely one winter old, with him. He placed the bundle on the alter, then looked down upon her sleeping face. His hand slowly moved to the jeweled dagger attached to his belt, removing it from its sheath. Clasping the dagger in both hands, he held it high above his head, then swung it downward, the cool, metal tip aimed at her tiny heart.

Eyes closed, he felt the impact of the weapon enter the child's body. Without opening his eyes, he turned away, leaving the dagger embedded in its victim.

Atrius only opened his eyes once he had exited the temple of the great god Ares. "Accept my blood sacrifice, my Lord Ares..."

The warrior failed to see the cooked chicken on the alter where his daughter had laid, a dagger protruding from its breast, the child, nowhere to be seen...

Ares was seated upon his throne in the hidden chamber of his temple. His priests and priestesses were all elsewhere, attending to their numerous duties, while Ares sat there, pondering the child he held in his arms.

He knew when someone made a sacrifice in his name, even before they had actually completed it. But this time, he had spied one of his more loyal followers about to sacrifice his only daughter to his god. One look at the tiny, sleeping child rocked him to the core. Fortunately, Atrius had closed his eyes to the deed, leaving Ares a clear path to the child.

Everything would be alright as long as the warrior failed to realize that his child was alive. To refuse a gift of that magnitude was an insult of the highest order when it proved a person's loyalty and was almost never done. But Ares couldn't let that baby die...

He wasn't sure what had possessed him to save her. All he had known was that she was special.

Ares gently stroked her cheek with his thumb. Her tiny hand moved and she yawned as her eyes opened. He nearly jerked in surprise as he gazed into her eyes. They were the most icy, but soulful blue he had ever seen in all of his thousands of years. She grasped his thumb in her chubby hand, bringing it to her mouth for closer inspection...

He chuckled, "Oh, no you don't, sweetling. That finger is mine. I don't care how toothlessly adorable you are..."

She giggled as he took back his thumb. Ares held her up to his face. The baby's hand reached out and touched his nose, then his mouth. The god opened his mouth, as if to nibble her fingers, but she jerked back her hand and shrieked with laughter.

Ares laughed along with her. "You're a smart little thing, aren't you, sweetling?"

She would forever be his. The only thing in his miserable life that he truly cared for. He was the outsider of Olympus. Sometimes he was lonely, but now he had his precious Xena to contend with for at least the rest of her mortal life...

AN: Yeah, okay, I know that her name was originally Xena, but I like her name and the way I'm writing the story, no one can know that she was Atrius' and Cyrene's daughter...