(If you are well versed in fan fiction, you'll recognize ideas I stole--ahem, borrowed--from other writers. Emcee should recognize her inspiration from "Hot Ice and Wondrous Strange Snow," "Hercules' Tale" and "The Rules," Lady Kate from "Understanding," etc. . .All I claim as original, as far as I know, is what Ares tells Hercules about Iolaus. I've also stolen from myself and you'll find ideas I have dealt with in other stories.

You don't need to be familiar with the matching story of mine, "Comfort and Joy," to read this one but there is a passing reference to it.)

Companion Pieces: The Divine Half-Brother

What's Mine Is Yours

By Amorette

There he was, the mongrel bastard, sitting up by that gravestone, mooning over his lost love. Get over it, I thought. Iolaus got what he deserved, spending all his time following you around like a lovesick puppy.

I know that wasn't entirely true but I was in a bad mood. He'd brought that cowardly bunch of assholes I called my fellow gods back from their hiding place and ruined everything. Again. As usual. He deserved some serious misery. In fact, he deserved to bear the brunt of my bad mood. With Strife dead and everyone else ganged up against me, Hercules was the handiest target. I felt like beating the shit out of someone and brother dear was the top of the list.

Hercules raised his head and stared at me as I appeared. His eyes were red-rimmed and I could see the tracks of tears down his cheeks.

"What's the matter, your replacement fucktoy not up to standards?"

"Go away, Ares."

"Go away, Ares," I repeated, mockingly. "Real original, brother dear. Where is that sad excuse for an Iolaus? Off telling bad jokes somewhere?"

"He's at mother's house. Jason's house. Helping Jason pack."

I had to admit to some disappointment. His voice was flat and hoarse and he answered my questions without rising to my bait, which just pissed me off more.

"What, isn't he bending over for you like the old Iolaus?"

Hercules closed his eyes. "Go away, Ares. Iolaus is dead. There isn't anything you can say that will make me feel worse."

"Yeah, how about this? Iolaus is dead because you are such a moron. Iolaus is dead because you killed him."

"Tell me something I don't know."

That calm voice was just stoking my fires. Now I was really mad. I bent over and grabbed my brother by his shirt and jerked him to his feet.

"How about this? None of this would have happened, none of it, if you hadn't interfered. Iolaus would be alive and well and sucking your miserable cock if you hadn't messed things up."

"I know that." He took a deep breath and pulled away. "But at least we stopped Dahak." His voice caught on the name.

"You wouldn't have had to stop Dahak in Sumeria if you hadn't messed with Xena."

"Huh?"

Idiot. Hadn't he put the pieces together yet?

"I could have stopped Dahak in Britannia four years ago," I said, emphasizing my point by poking my bastard brother in the chest. "I could have stopped him when he was weak, before he had any hold in our plane of existence, if Xena. . ." I was aware that I spat her name out as if the taste offended me. ". . .if Xena had listened to me! But no!"
I shoved him away, hard. "If Xena had trusted me and done what I told her, she could have stopped Dahak cold and set him back at least a generation. But you made her all 'oh, I can't trust you, Ares.' so she wouldn't listen to me."

I stomped away, then spun back. "All this is YOUR fault."

"Maybe," replied Hercules, rubbing his chest, "Or maybe you should have been more upfront with Xena. . ."

What little hold I had on my temper broke. Roaring, I lunged forward, grabbed the bastard and started to shake him. Had he been mortal, his neck would have broken from the force. As it was, he struggled, pushing at my arms.

"YOUR FAULT!" My voice was howl that shook the trees like wind. "ALL YOUR FAULT! FROM THE DAY YOU WERE BORN, IT'S BEEN YOUR FAULT."

We fought, as we had so many times before, but this time, I wasn't holding back. To my surprise, Hercules met my force with equal force. I had forgotten, as he usually did, just how powerful he was.

The ground shook as we hit it. Trees and boulders were split as we rolled around. We ended up at the bottom of a slope, Hercules underneath me. I was straddling his body, his arms pinned behind his back. I leaned forward, snarling in his ear.

"Your fault." I jerked back on his arms, nearly dislocating them. "All your fault. Xena turned and not listening to me." Another jerk and Hercules moaned. "Iolaus dying." I slammed his face into the ground. "Iolaus being yours." Another slam. "Miserable bastard."

That word had always upset Hercules. His body bucked and I went flying, hitting a tree with enough impact that the trunk cracked and my head spun, then he was snatching me up and shaking me.

"I know I killed him," Hercules bellowed in my face, making my ears ring. "I loved him and I killed him, you son-of-a-bitch. I don't need you to remind me."

I looked him right in the eyes, noticing the fury burning there. More like my side of the family then you care to admit, baby brother, I thought.

"Iolaus never should have been yours to begin with." I thought I'd up the ante a little. He was supposed to be mine."

The fury flickered. Hercules squinted at me, uncertain. I felt the hands clutching my vest loosen a little.

"He was a warrior," said Hercules. "But he was never yours."

"Oh, yes, he was. And he was meant to be mine. From his birth. Mine. My partner. My lover. Mine."

Hercules let me go, stepping back. "You mean that literally, don't you?"

I threw my hands up. "Of course I do, you idiot! Didn't Zeus ever tell you?"

"What does Zeus have to do with Iolaus?"

I cocked my head and looked at him very carefully. He really was ignorant about his beloved pet's origins. I felt my lips draw back in sneering smile. Good. This was going to break his heart and I was going to enjoy it. I crossed my arms and leaned back against one of the trees that was still standing.

"Didn't you ever wonder, brother dear, how a plain, ordinary human like Iolaus could keep up with you? Was strong enough, quick enough, brave enough, to be the companion of a son of Zeus? That's because Zeus stepped in before he was born and tweaked little Iolaus to make him suitable to be my companion."

Those blue eyes of Hercules' opened wide. "You're lying," he said but I could tell he didn't believe it. I don't have to lie very often and I wasn't lying now and he knew it.

"Zeus took what was there, that bright soul of his, and added a little something extra. Not for you, dear boy, you weren't even a twinkle in the old goat's eye, but for me. He made Iolaus what he was so he would be good enough for me."

Hercules' kept staring at me, as if he could see the truth if he looked hard enough. "What are you saying?"

I shrugged. "What you are hearing. Zeus tweaked Iolaus to be the companion of his son. . . only that son was me." A memory I regretted flitted past. I was aware that my sneer was fading but I knew the more sincere I looked, the more my brother would believe me.

"One day, Zeus said he had surprise for me. He took me to a mortal home, the home of a soldier of mine. He showed me this squalling little baby, the son of Skouros. He showed me Skouros telling his wife that she shouldn't waste any more time on that runt of a baby. She should expose him and be done with it."

A long forgotten pang slipped into my heart as I remembered looking at that feeble child, crying furiously because he was sick with some mortal illness. Zeus told me the child was over a year old but he looked much smaller than that to my experienced parental eye.

"He said, 'there he is, Ares. The finest mortal warrior that will ever live. Brave and loyal, he will be your greatest achievement.' I saw that little thing, I heard Skouros and I knew the old man was just playing one of his vile jokes on me. I told him exactly what he could do with that mortal baby."

"Iolaus?"

"Iolaus. I told Zeus he could take that baby and feed it to the dogs for all I cared." I remembered Zeus looking at me, bright-eyed, not disappointed in my reaction at all. I should have realized he was up to something right then but I was angry at the insult. "He asked me, very carefully, if I gave up any and all claim to that child. I said yes and left."

I shook my head. "I didn't understand for years what he had done. And when he had done it." I met Hercules' gaze. "He showed me Iolaus the day after he climbed out of your mother's bed. I didn't even make the connection. I hadn't heard Iolaus' name that day. Then, one day, almost twenty years later, I saw Iolaus fighting and I suddenly saw in him, that perfect warrior, and I knew what had been made for me and given to you."

Hercules had gone quite still and pale. He sat down heavily, on handy boulder our fight had rolled into a convenient position. He knew every word I had just told him was true and his whole universe, already in upheaval, took another spin. I was loving it. This was even better than pounding on him.

"That's why. . ." His voice was a whisper. "That's why you hate me. Not just for Zeus' favor but because of Iolaus. And that's why you never hurt Iolaus, isn't it?"

I turned away, pacing across the clearing, my back to my brother. Damn him.

"Everyone had a turn at hurting him, killing him, but you never made more than a token effort because. . ."

I was horrified to hear myself telling Hercules more than the truth I had intended to reveal. "Because he was mine. Not like Xena was mine. In a way no other mortal was ever meant to be. Can you imagine what I could have done with him?"

Spinning, I was surprised to see Hercules close behind me. He stepped back as he saw something in my expression. "I could have made him the ruler of Greece! Gaia's guts, I could have made him the ruler of the known world! He had it in him, the courage, the stubbornness, the determination, to be a dozen times what Xena could have been. But he ended up as your . . .follower. " I tossed a fireball at the marker carved with Iolaus' face but missed. "He'd have killed Dahak in Britannia. With him at my side, I'd have been invincible!"

Hercules was giving me a very peculiar look. I could almost see the wheels spinning in his feeble half mortal brain.

"What? Going to deny what Iolaus could have been if he were mine?"

"No." He shook his head, looking over at the gravestone for a moment. "No. You're right. Iolaus could have been greater than Xena if only because he had a bigger heart. He could have been the greatest warrior that ever lived, under your influence. I'm just wondering what influence Iolaus would have had on you?"

"What?"

"What would it have done to you to have him at your side. To have that heart, that love. . ." My brother blinked back tears. "Iolaus loved with every fiber of his being. What would that have done to you, to have that love, that, what did you call it? --bright soul at your side? Would he have changed you even more than you would have changed him?"

Shoving Hercules away, I stalked around the clearing again. The mortal world is too small to contain me. I should have left. I should have left right then and there but I couldn't go, not with Hercules thinking that his pretty little lover would have changed me. I'm the God of War. Change is not part of my nature.

I leaned back against that tree again. I like having the feeling of something at my back.

"Change?" I laughed. "Iolaus would have been the one changed."

"I have no doubt of that, but I still think he would have changed you. I know a few things about you that might surprise you."

"Oh, really." I buffed my nails on my vest, not that they needed it.

"I know that inside you, buried somewhere secret, is heart."

"Do tell?"

"The first time I saw Bliss, Cupid called him his fledgling. I thought that was sweet and said so and Cupid said. . ."

Without even thinking about it, I was in my brother's face, pushing him back against that boulder, my hands on his shirt again. I had no idea what I wanted to do, only that I wanted to shut him up. There were some things I didn't want him, of all people, to know about me.

"To love and be loved, Ares, unconditionally, with all the capacity for love that Iolaus had. What would that have done to you?"

As if I didn't think about that every time I saw Iolaus look up at Hercules with those shining eyes, love and worship, friendship and joy, pouring out of him. Sure, the sex would have been great. Aphrodite had had her turn on Iolaus, at Zeus' request, giving him the stamina to take on a god, but it would have been more than great sex. It would have been something I couldn't even imagine. Would Iolaus have accepted me the way he accepted Hercules, faults and arrogance and all? Would Iolaus have loved me the way he loved Hercules? Could anyone love me like that?

Wrong. This whole thing was wrong. Wrong from the moment Hercules has been conceived. Wrong from the moment I opened my mouth to talk to Hercules instead of beating on him. And I was going to make it up the only way I knew how. I hit Hercules and we went back to rolling around in the dirt.

I hate him, my bastard brother, hated him for so many things but taking Iolaus away was the first of them. Granted, he hadn't actually done anything, Zeus had done it, but Hercules was handy.

I must have been so angry, so lost in my memory of that day when I saw that child and gave up my chance, that I was careless. Somehow, I ended up underneath Hercules when we came to a halt. Our clothes were torn, we were filthy and Hercules was bleeding. I wasn't but I hurt in a few places. Gods can hurt gods and my miserable brother is enough of a god for that rule to apply.

He was looking down at me, curious, as he sat straddling me. He pulled one hand back and I tensed, ready for the blow, but it didn't come. Instead, he reached down and pushed my hair back off my face.

"I'd have been a monster," he said, his voice soft. "I'd have been arrogant and angry, maybe almost as bad as the Sovereign, without Iolaus. My mother did the best she could but it was Iolaus that grounded me, made me appreciate my mortal half. Made me see that mortals have a much greater capacity for love than any of the gods, even Aphrodite."

I grinned back. "You've never fucked Aphrodite, brother dear. You have no idea what she is capable of."

He shook his head. "I didn't say sex, Ares. I said love."

And then he kissed me. He had been leaning down as he spoke, his gaze riveted on mine. I was preparing a snide remark, something about the size of Iolaus' genitals, when he pressed his lips against mine.

For the time it takes for a mortal heart to beat once, I was completely stunned. I've lived for nearly a thousand years. I've fought battles with mortals and gods, titans and monsters. I've learned every battle tactic ever conceived, invented strategies, repelled attacks and launched defensive strikes but I have never, ever been as surprised as I was at that moment.

Instinctively, my hands moved to push him away but somehow, that didn't happen. Maybe it was just the shock of having perfect and virtuous Hercules kissing me, maybe one of the blows he had landed had rattled me more than I realized, maybe the feel of those lips against mine were more than I could comprehend. Whatever the reason, I kissed back.

With mortals, one has to be careful. Squeeze a little too hard in a moment of passion and you kill them. With gods and other supernatural beings, I can be as rough as I like but there is no challenge there, nothing new, because I've fucked very god or godling there is, with a few exceptions that I wouldn't want to fuck.

Now. Suddenly. Unexpectedly. I was kissing someone who could take all my strength, yet someone who I had never touched like this before. It was, as much as I loathe to admit it, rather overwhelming.

I told myself, as I made our clothing disappear, that it must have been Iolaus who taught my baby brother how to kiss like that, his tongue velvet against mine as it explored my mouth. It must have been Iolaus who taught him how to stroke and caress, kiss and lick, suck and bite, because surely Hercules was too repressed to ever have figured out these things on his own. Then again, he was our father's son. . .

I'm the god. I should be on top. I rolled him over, under me, and he acquiesced, letting me take the lead.

If I had been thinking clearly, I would have left him right then and there, left him lying naked in the dirt, his cock hard with the unexpected truth, but I didn't. I couldn't. Instead, I wrapped my hands in his hair and kissed him. Hercules. Kissed him with all my skill, honed by centuries of practice, kissed him until he moaned into my mouth, his hands pulling my body close to his.

Hot, slick, hard muscled flesh, under me. His cock, nearly a twin to my own, rubbing against me. It was what I wanted but it wasn't enough. I pulled away, ignoring the sound of distress that slipped out of Hercules, rocking back on my heels.

"I want to fuck you," I said, rather surprised at how calm my voice sounded.

Considering everything between us, I expected him to refuse, but the shocks that had been coming at me ever since our lips touched continued. He smiled and spread his legs.

Had Iolaus taught him that, too? That open willingness I had seen in others but never experienced in myself.

I didn't want to think about it. I didn't want to think at all. I only wanted to be between my brother's legs, my cock buried in his body. With a thought, my cock was covered in oil and I was pushing into him. He was strong and I hadn't prepared him. There was resistance and struggle but that only excited me more. I was horrified to hear the needy sounds of my own moans as I pushed and pushed and finally, slid all the way inside.

His fingers were laced with mine, his eyes were closed in ecstasy, his body was pulling me in deeper. Him. Hercules.

As far as technique goes, it wasn't my finest hour. All those years of practice were forgotten as we surged towards each other, mindless with lust. I was as furious as I was aroused, angry that my miserable bastard mongrel brother was doing this to me, making me feel this desperate. And the sounds he was making, the throaty groans of pleasure, weren't making it any easier.

I have no idea how long we fucked. Minutes? Hours? Days, for all I know. It just kept getting better and better, as I thrust into the hot, clutching body beneath me. I don't know if he touched himself or if I fisted his cock or if he just came from my fucking but I felt his body rear up, the muscles in his ass grabbing me even more tightly, heard his wordless cry as the wet heat spread between us and then I was collapsing on top of him, coming so hard I felt as if I were turning inside out.

I lay on top of him, panting, incredulous, and felt his hand start to stroke my hair. That did it, brought me back to myself. I pulled away, hearing his sharp, pained gasp. I cleaned and dressed both of us with a thought.

Silence. I had paced away as soon as I stood up, wanting to leave but not wanting it to appear as if I were running away. I looked back. He was sitting up, wincing a little.

"I don't know if Zeus made you just to annoy me or not."

Hercules snorted. "It's certainly possible. Create someone to distract you, keep your mind off trying to overthrow him." He tilted his head to one side, obviously thinking it over.

No. That gave him too much power.

"No, Zeus never thinks that far ahead. He sees something he wants to fuck, his dick gets hard and that's it." I laughed, bitterly. "Can you imagine how many fewer gods and people there would be if Zeus could think while he had an erection."

"Do you have to be like this?" Hercules was standing up, wincing again. Good. No, bad. Sometimes the reminders of a fuck were a bad thing. I didn't even look at him as I made all evidence of our encounter disappear. "Does it have to be like this between us?"

"What would you want? The relationship you have with Iphicles?" Ha! Score one for me. To my surprise, though, he smiled sadly.

"Yeah, that would be nice. I love Iphicles, I respect him. I like him."

"And you want that with me?" I kept the sneer in my voice even as I wondered what he was getting at. And since when did he get along with Iphicles? I must have missed something. I hated this, this confusion and surprise. I wasn't in control. I wanted to hit him again but I knew, if my flesh touched his, it would hurt me more than him.

"Yes, I do." He sounded so reasonable. "I mean, I accept that you have to exist."

"Thanks a lot. You have no idea how much that means to me."

"I mean, that a god of war is necessary." His voice sounded so patient and understanding that I wanted to rip his throat out. "Men are violent and we solve problems with battles rather than brains. I don't like it but I accept that. We need you to provide courage, to direct aggression, so that we can face the wars that are necessary. I just wonder if you have to be scheming and fanning the embers so much. Couldn't you just. . .I don't know. . .be there when you are needed and not be the cause of so much suffering."

"Defend Greece against the Persians or the Romans, say, and otherwise spend my time doing what? Growing flowers? Knitting blankets?"

"Maybe." Hercules sighed and my fingers twitched. "Let men start the wars without your help. I suspect we'd do just fine."

Was he so ignorant? I looked at him, guileless eyes, sincerity radiating from every pore. Why did he want to like me? Nobody else did.

"I can no more give up war than you can give up breathing." My voice was harsh. "You need food and water and air, I need conflict and aggression and battle. Take them away, I. . ." Should I tell him? Would he use it against me, if I admitted my greatest vulnerability to my greatest enemy? "In your perfect, peaceful world, I'd be dead. Or as good as, too weak to be of any use. And as you said, sometimes, you need me."

He got that furrow in his brow that made him look even more concerned. Now I wanted to rip his entire face off.

"It's more than just liking it. It sustains you."

"Right." I needed to turn this around to my favor. "And whenever Iolaus really got his blood up, when he threw himself into a fight, heart and soul, it was the best rush in the world! Gave me twice of the strength of any other warrior." I frowned. "And you took that away from me. You took him away as a child and as a man."

Hercules shook his head. "No, you gave him away."

That was it! I was on him, all thoughts of fucking replaced by sheer murder. I wanted to rip his throat out, disembowel him, scatter his body parts to the winds. We rolled around again, neither of getting the upper hand, until we were stopped by the gravestone.

I would have expected it to give way under the force but it didn't. We stopped, Hercules staring up at the stone image of his dead friend. Then he looked at me, all compassion and pity in his eyes. I was off him and pacing away, wanting to leave but knowing, if I left now, he'd count it a victory. Or at least I would count it as such.

"Athena's not like you."

"You'd be surprised. She schemes, too, just likes to do it behind the scenes. Besides, she's in charge of different stuff." What in Tartarus was I doing still talking to him? I wanted to be far away, causing horrible and unnecessary violence, but something kept me here, talking to Hercules, trying to explain, wanting to explain?, what I was. "She's fine on noble causes and strategy but to get men to risk their lives, they need more than words, more than ideals. They need bravery and bloodlust."

"And that's where you come in?"

I sighed. I sighed. I never sigh. Never. At least, not out loud. I sighed and said, "That's why Zeus made me what I am. Athena wasn't much at inspiration. And if you want to discuss the philosophical causes of war, talk to her."

"I don't want to get to know her better." He sounded so genuine I wanted to hit him again. "I want to get to know you." He paused, then started speaking, slowly and clearly. "Ares, exceeding in strength, chariot-rider, golden-helmed, determined in heart, shield-bearer, savior of cities, harnessed in bronze, strong of arm, unwearying, mighty with the spear, O defender of Olympus, father of warlike Victory."

My jaw dropped as Hercules recited my hymn. There was just the slightest hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"I've never seen you ride in a chariot. Or wear a golden helmet."

"It's a metaphor, you moron." I ignored my brother's smile. "I can do the whole noble, golden-helmed thing when it's called for."

"Could you do something else?"

"What?"

Hercules was leaning back against the side of Iolaus' gravestone that didn't have the face carved on it, his arms folded, his face open and curious. "If you wanted to, could you do something else? Become the god of something else? I'm not saying you'd want to, I think you like slaughter and mayhem too much, but if you wanted to, could you change?"

"What kind of question is that?"

He shrugged. "Ever since I went to the Sovereign's world, I've wondered. The Ares there was. . ."

"Not me. Did you meet the Cupid in that world? That was me. Not that sniveling, mirror-addicted, sentimental idiot with my face."

"People can change."

"I'm not people. And most mortals fail when they try to change, go against their basic nature. I know very few warriors who take up sheepherding, say, and succeed."

"But it happens." Hercules smiled again. I wanted to smack him again. "If mortals can do it, why not gods."

I threw my hands up. "Because mortals are created with the potential to be something, not a purpose. Gods are created with a purpose. I told you!" I was shouting. I took a deep breath and lowered my voice. "I need conflict to survive. Aphrodite needs love and sex. Dionysus needs people to get drunk. Without our needs being fulfilled, we'd cease to exist. And no, before you ask, I couldn't force myself to get by with something else. I like fucking but it's a hobby, not a means of sustenance."

He opened his mouth, no doubt to ask some other stupid question, but I cut him off.

"Two things in the universe give me a headache," I said. "Talking to you and listening to Discord. Why don't you shut up?"

"I figure, as long as you're here, talking to me, I might as well take advantage of it."

He was taking advantage of me. And, for some inexplicable reason, he was succeeding. He had the upper hand and I no matter what I did, I didn't seem to be able to take control. Even when I fucked him, it has been his invitation that drew me in, his orgasm that triggered mine.

Wearily, I said, "And why, pray tell, do you want to talk to me? We're enemies."

"Because of Iolaus."

Oh, not again. I sat down on a boulder, rubbing my face in my hands. I knew my blabbermouth brother would explain himself without my asking and he did.

His voice was soft as his hand strayed to the carving of his companion's face on the stone. "It was years ago. I was ranting about you and Iolaus said. . .he said he didn't think you were as bad as all that." He laughed softly at the memory. "I asked him how he could possibly think that and he said he had three reasons. The first was he had heard you were a decent father." Hercules shook his head, his fingers still stroking the marble image. "I didn't believe that at the time and told him so. And then. . ."

Hercules took a deep breath, obviously moved by the memory. I tried to sneer but he wasn't paying attention to me.

"And then he said you had nice smile."

"What?"

Now he raised his eyes and did look at me. "That's what I said. And Iolaus said, anybody that had such a nice smile couldn't be all bad. That if we could just catch you at the right time, maybe you'd be. . .fun, I think is the word he used."

"Fun!" I was on my feet, reaching for Hercules. I had my hands wrapped around that shirt of his, pulling him close to me. "Iolaus just wanted me to fuck him."

"That, too." Hercules gently pulled himself free of my grasp. "But he saw something in you that I didn't. He said he thought you lashed out at me, at everyone, because causing others pain made your own pain less." Hercules shrugged. "He understood self-loathing and saw the same thing in you. Maybe it was left over from. . .what you told me. . .but he never hated you as much as I did and now I'm beginning to understand why."

"Hate me, you miserable bastard," I screamed, backhanding him so he fell against the gravestone and slid to the ground. "Hate me with every fiber of your being! Iolaus was an idiot! He was an idiot for following you and an idiot for dying for you and an idiot for not taking advantage of the power Dahak offered!"

Hercules just stared up at me, his eyes still pitying, and I couldn't take it anymore. I left, leaving him in the dust, taking myself as far away as I possibly could. I took myself to a mountain top in Macedonia and let my temper go. I blasted trees and sent rolling walls of flame to destroy everything in their path. I wrecked all the destruction I could and it didn't help. Nothing helped. Nothing could ever still the rage in my soul.

I collapsed on the ground, still screaming my rage at everything I had lost and everything I had never had, angry at the world for one simple reason. That miserable dead mortal was right. And I'd never have a chance to punish him because he was dead and beyond my reach. And because I was immortal, I'd go on suffering. Loving and incapable of being loved. Torn in half by my miserable heart. Hating my family and wanting them to love me. Never finding solace or comfort with another soul.

It did me no good. I finally stood up, got my emotions under control, and went to hear petitioners in one of my temples. There was no point in mourning what I had lost, in what I could never have. I was the God of War and violence and death were my realm, not love, not compassion, not hope. I had wars to incite, murder and mayhem to arrange. And I would do so, driven by the pain I could conceal from others but never from myself.

Because Iolaus was right.

December 2001