AresJoxerCupidStrife - Scorpio

Blonde Ambition
Gentle Blonde Persuasion
Attack of the Blondes
A Blonde Moment
Domesticated Blonde
Blonde Facsination
Blonde Obsession
Prenatal Blonde



TITLE: Blonde Ambition
AUTHOR: Scorpio
ARCHIVE: Yes.
FANDOM: X:WP
PAIRING: None, Strife fic.
RATING: PG
DISCLAIMER: Not mine, no money. For fun, not profit.
SUMMARY: Strife puzzles out the reason for his discontent and then attempts to fix the problem.


Blonde Ambition
by Scorpio


Strife scowled at his reflection in the mirror. Starring back at him was a guy with a sour attitude and a creepy face. Pale washed-out eyes rested within pasty doughy skin that covered gaunt hollowed-out cheeks and a too sharp jaw. And let's not forget the stringy, spiky, uncontrollable jet black hair.

Strife *hated* his hair.

Proving once and for all that his often questioned sanity was merely just an illusion or perhaps wishful thinking on the part of the questioner, Strife had decided that all of his woes and troubles were the fault of his midnight dark hair. Yes, that's right, all of the blame for his misery and unhappiness could be laid at the feet of those raven locks. The basis for that determination was all very scientific and based on long hours of study and observation. And what he had seen had convinced Strife of one thing in particular: blondes had more fun.

All it really took was for the Mischief God to stand back and watch his family with an objective and unbiased eye. All the brunettes were unhappy, unfulfilled and unstable neurotic wreaks. What's more, the darker the hair color, the darker and more angst filled the woes visited upon them.

His mom was a psychotic and bloodthirsty bitch that everyone scorned with disdain or was afraid of. His uncle Ares was a brooding and driven man whose great passions were unappreciated and whose brilliance was mocked. His cousin Phobos was little more than a painfully shy child whose name was continuously cursed. Even the auburn haired Queen of the Gods was nothing but a jealous and ranting harpy in disguise.

Then there was the blondes. His aunt Dite was always smiling and flirting with half of Greece drooling after her. His suave and sexy cousin Cupid with his knowing and amused smirk had the other half of the population following him around in a love-stupid daze. And of course, who could forget Apollo the Shiny? Everyone, including a lot of the gods, were tripping over themselves to be close to him. Even his younger cousin Deimos was always laughing. Granted, it was more of a demented cackle, but still...he *was* happy.

Snarling at his hair and determined to do something about it, Strife flashed himself into the Love Goddess' workshop. With only a vague understanding of the various herbs, minerals, crystals and chemical compounds that his aunt routinely used, Strife began to mix up a noxious smelling brew in one of her silver bowls. He stirred. He measured. He poured. He stirred some more. Just for good measure, he zapped it with a jolt of power.

Satisfied that the stinky goop in the bowl was ready, he materialized himself a set of tight leather gloves and carried it all into the next room. Flopping down on the chair in front of his aunt's vanity, he carefully shifted over all of her delicate bottles and jars so that he could put his bowl down. Sliding on the gloves, Strife took a long look in the mirror. His eyes narrowed at the sight of those hated dark spikes and he swore to himself that he'd never have to look upon them again.

Reaching into the bowl with one gloved hand, Strife grabbed up a bunch of the thick goop. Lifting it up, he carefully smeared it into his hair. Almost instantly, his scalp started to tingle in that 'it burns' sort of way and the noxious fumes stung his eyes and opened up his sinuses. Telling himself that those weren't *symptoms* but merely signs that his plan was working, Strife continued to smear more of the mixture into his hair.

*twenty minutes later*

Strife heard and sensed the arrival of two gods, but he didn't look up. He was far too busy clenching his fists against the pain, squeezing his eyes tight from the fumes and chanting over and over again "My head is NOT on fire! The potion is simply doing it's job!" In the background, the low murmured voices broke off as he heard his aunt screech, "Oh Gods! What is that stink?!" Footsteps rapidly heading in his direction soon followed.

"Strife! What in Tartarus is on your head?"

Strife opened his eyes to look up at his aunt and his cousin. Instantly they filled up with tears from the noxious fumes and began to stream down his face. His mouth opened and babble poured forth.

"I'm soooo sorry aunt Dite, but I couldn't take it anymore. I hate having dark hair. I just want to be blonde and beautiful like you. Maybe then everyone would like me and Cupid would be my friend."

Strife bowed his head down and sniffled so he missed Aphrodite and Cupid sharing a shocked look of pity and surprise over his pathetic and somewhat deranged confession. All he knew was that a small soft hand patted him gently on the shoulder.

"Now, now. It's not that bad, honey. No one hates you and Cupid *is* your friend."

Aphrodite shot Cupid a *look*. Strife didn't see it, but the God of Love did. What's more, he understood that if he didn't play along then he would be in big trouble. He quickly nodded his head in agreement. "Yeah, that's right. I'm just...always so busy with...uh, work. That's all."

Strife glanced up at that, his big blue eyes swimming in fume inspired tears. "Really?" Not wanting to crush the despondent...and often deadly god before him, Cupid offered up a wobbly smile and nodded again. After all, the last god to deliberately insult the Mischief God to his face had ended up finding one of his mortal playthings a three day old corpse from multiple spider bites. Not that there had been any proof that it had been Strife's fault, but then again, there never was.

Totally missing the undercurrents running between mother and son, Strife just passively let himself be led into the overly pink and lacy bathing chamber when his aunt had tugged at his arm and cooed "Let's wash that gunk out of your hair sweetie. You'll make more friends if you don't smell so...strongly. Trust aunt 'Dite, she knows these things."

He watched, trying not to get his hopes up as Cupid materialized a chair that could tip over slightly and a ceramic bowl with warm soapy water. Aphrodite led him to the chair and helped him sit down on it. "Lean back doll and we'll see what you did to your hair. Okay?" Sniffling one last time, he nodded his head.

A flash of light showed him that his aunt had also materialized a pair of gloves for her hands and then with a few softly whispered instructions to Cupid, she began to rinse out his potion and then shampoo his hair to make it squeaky clean. It felt good to be touched by her. Her hands were gentle and the slow circular motions she used was relaxing. It had been far too long since anyone had touched him for any other purpose than to cause pain, so he soon found himself drifting off to sleep.

The next thing he knew, his shoulder was being gently shook and a deep soothing voice was speaking to him. "Strife? Wake up, bud. Mom washed all of that...bleachy stuff out of your hair." Strife opened his eyes to find that his sexy cousin Cupid was leaning down over him and smiling. At him. He blinked in confusion at the whole being smiled at thing. No one smiled at him; he was Strife.

"I don't know what it was that you put in your hair dude, but it's *very* blonde now. No more jet black spikes for you." Then his memories caught up with him and it all made sense. He was a blonde and *that's* why the God of Love was being nice to him. He was one of *them* now.

Sitting up with a jerk and an insanely excited smile, Strife cried out, "Quick! I need a mirror!" With a startled grunt, Cupid materialized a mirror and Strife gazed in fascinated awe at the new him. Platinum blonde hair stood up in a fluff around his face making him look like a demented and rumpled dandelion. Relief and happiness washed through him like a dam was breaking and he knew that he'd have to change his whole life to fit his new image.

Swirling around to clutch at his new best friend, Strife grinned up into Cupid's confused face with a fanatical gleam in his pale blue eyes. "This is *great*! Now that I'm a blonde, I'll have to do blonde things. So...I figure that I, as the God of Mischief, would be best suited to puppy-love and crushes. Then, with me helping out and all, you won't be as busy. And we can, you know, hang out and do all sorts of best-friend things. We can be...*pals*!"

Cupid looked like he had been whacked upside his pretty blonde head at that announcement. "Uh...I, um that is...well...uh..."

In a flash of bright light and a shower of blue sparkles, Strife left his stammering and panicking cousin behind in his aunt's bathing chamber. He had puppy-love to inspire and mischief to make in the lives and hearts of teenagers everywhere. Because he was a blonde now and that's what blondes did.


END: Blonde Ambition



TITLE: Gentle Blonde Persuasion
AUTHOR: Scorpio
ARCHIVE: Yes
FANDOM: X:WP
PAIRING: None, Strife fic.
RATING: PG
DISCLAIMER: Not mine, no money. For fun, not profit.
SUMMARY: Following the events in "Blonde Ambition", Cupid watches Strife settle into his new lifestyle.



Gentle Blonde Persuasion
by Scorpio

It had been several weeks since Strife had broken into his mom's temple, practically trashed her workroom in the process of creating the most potent color stripping hair bleach invented, turned himself into a blonde and announced that he was now a member of the House of Love...all in a sweetly pathetic and blatantly psychotic attempt to make himself more "likable". Which was rather odd, even for Strife. Then again, Cupid had noticed that his younger cousin didn't stop to consider that it just *might* be his unrestrained insanity and his kill-first-ask-questions-later attitude that was putting people off. Nope, the God of Mischief had declared it was a blonde thing and that was that. No sense arguing with someone whose take on reality was skewed.

Surprisingly, Strife was pretty damn good at the whole love gig. He seemed to be able to really get inside a teenager's head and understand them despite all the raging hormones and lack of maturity. First loves, heartbreaking crushes and obsessively bad poetry were breaking out in the ranks of young adults all across Greece. And each time that Strife had a hand in any of it, he rushed back to Cupid's side to babble in excited tones and dramatic gestures while he explained his latest bit of sappy mischief making. Each time, Cupid found himself confronted by pale fluffy blonde hair, wide pale blue eyes shinning with enthusiasm and a bevy of prayers from some teen that he ensure that some random he/she/it end up being 'the one'. It was only the fact that Strife's rambling babble-sessions were accompanied by his personal brand of insane giggles that reminded him that he was dealing with a lunatic and potentially deadly relative.

It wasn't so bad most of the time. Cupid had gotten used to Strife's bizarre love combinations. He had made himself stifle his immediate desire to tease Strife about the black and yellow stripped "bumblebee" outfit that he had worn to signify the mixture of Love and Mischief until Demeter had laughed so hard that she gave herself a fit of the hiccups at the very sight of him. He had even gotten used to Strife showing up semi-naked and playing with his assorted body piercings at all hours of the day and night. He'd even gone along with Strife's scheme to get Hercules and Iolaus in bed together. But when his dad came around yelling about his assistant not pulling his weight and turning his youngest son into a girl, then Cupid knew that he had to take steps. No matter how scary an insane Mischief God might be, a pissed off God of War was even worse.

Figuring that he'd start with the obvious, Cupid called out for his cousin. After a few mortal heartbeats, Strife appeared before him in one of his "new" outfits...or lack there of. The Mischief God had taken the whole concept of being a part of the House of Love very seriously, unfortunately, his deranged mind warped things just a tad. He was, somehow, convinced that no one working to further the causes of "luv an' mushiness" could be completely dressed at one time. Hence, his almost there outfits.

This one consisted of a washed-out pair of pants made out of a material called denim. These...jeans?...were faded almost white at the thigh, crotch and ass and were a light blue that matched Strife's eyes everywhere else. His white blonde hair stood up around his face in a soft fluff that suggested that he'd just rolled out of bed and the rest of his "outfit" was comprised of jewelry and tattoos. He wore three toe rings; two on his bare right foot and one on his bare left foot. There were at least one, if not two rings, on every finger including his thumbs. His bellybutton and both nipples were pierced and adorned with silver hoops. And of course, both earlobes were decorated with his trademark metal. His left upper arm had a tattoo wrapped around it in a design that Strife called "barbed wire" and his right upper arm had a band of Grecian linking tiles in black and red. And if he turned around, Cupid knew that he'd find that Strife's entire back was decorated with one giant tattoo that was a perfect map of Greece.

It was a distinctive look. One that was a compelling mix of bedroom sensuality and dangerous bad-boy magnetism. Cupid found that he rather liked it and decided that once this "new Strife" had gotten to be better well known that he would do what he could to duplicate this affected "look" in the future. Somewhere, a muse twitched and that twitch combined with the power of Cupid's random thought traveled two millennia in the future and landed smack dab in the middle of Seattle Washington. The "grunge scene" was born and masses of disenchanted and jaded youths would be unable to explain their sudden fascination with Curt Cobain.

Smiling warily at his crazy cousin come self-appointed assistant and oddly enough, newest best friend, Cupid scratched at his temple and blushed. "Uh...I hate to be the one to pee in your cornflakes dude, but dad's on a major rip about you not doing any jobs for him lately."

Strife snorted and waved his hand materializing a fluffy sparkly cloud that he then flopped belly down on. The cloud floated about four feet off of the floor and pulsed a pale powder blue, then a soft lemony yellow and then a bright mint green before starting back at blue again. Cupid grinned. Strife came up with the strangest things.

"Look. Ares is a genius when it comes to fightin' and screamin' and makin' people pee in their pants. But I ain't into that gig no more. I love the big guy madly and I respect him greatly, but I'm more than happy right where I am. For the first time in my life I feel good about myself, you know? I mean, I'm even makin' friends and shit. Do you have any idea how much it hurts to have people take one look at you, shriek and then run the other way? Trust me, my man. It sucks."

Cupid sighed sadly, a wellspring of compassion swelling up inside of him. He did understand what Strife was saying. It was hard to believe, but despite the fact that the God of Mischief was certifiably insane, he was actually really good at the whole "crushes and puppy-love" gig. What's more, it was as plain as day to anyone who saw him lately that he was a much happier and less likely-to-slice-your-throat-open type of guy now. Tartarus! He even had strings of pre-pubescent girls following him around with sparkling eyes and giggling shy smiles going on and on about how he was "soooo cute".

"Dude...until mom can somehow make this whole thing official, you should probably try and humor him or something. I don't know. I mean, mom's been trying to sweet talk Zeus into it, but...he's dragging his ass about it. I think he's a little worried about what the reaction is gonna be from both Ares and aunt Eris."

With a petulant sigh and a pouty bottom lip, Strife rolled over on his little cloud until his was flopped on his back with his head hanging off of the end so that he could stare upside-down at his sexy cousin.

"Yeah, I can understand that. Uncle Ares is nothing if not relentless in his various quests for revenge and my mom may be a skanky ho, but she's also a bit psychotic."

Cupid nearly choked at the thought of Strife calling anyone insane and had a brief image of an animated cartoon pot accusing a kettle of being made of black iron. Figuring that discretion was not only the better part of valor but would also keep him from getting knocked in the teeth, Cupid quickly changed the subject. "So...what's up with dad saying that you're trying to change one of the twins into a girl?"

The question must have shocked Strife something fierce since he lost his concentration and his cloud suddenly had significantly less substance. With a startled yelp, Strife fell right through it to land in an undignified heap on the floor. "Shit on a stick, Strife! Are you okay?" Cupid leaped up from his seat and dashed over to try and scrape his cousin up off of the floor. The Mischief God tried to scowl, but Cupid knew how much he liked to be touched gently, so he kept on petting and stroking his volatile cousin like some big sensual cat until Strife was practically purring.

Pulling Strife over to one of the overstuffed pink lounge sofas that his mom had scattered about the place, Cupid sat down and settled his cousin next to him so that he was lying down and stretched out with Strife's double-processed blonde head in his lap. Slowly and soothingly, he ran his hands through that impossibly soft fluff. "Come on. Tell me about it. You'll feel better if you do."

Almost mumbled incoherently into his thigh was Strife's quiet response, "I gave Phobos a makeover."

Confused and not sure where this was leading, Cupid frowned, his full bottom lip sticking out in a sort-of pout. "Why does a seven year old godling need a makeover?"

Strife growled low in his throat and all of the muscles in his neck, shoulders and back tensed up. Cupid had a horrifying mental image of his not-too-tightly-wrapped cousin biting a chunk out of one of his legs for a moment before Strife sighed a pitifully sad sigh and relaxed into a boneless heap.

"Look, Cupie. Phobos may only be seven, but he's also destined to be the God of Fear and Terror. Plus he's a member of the House of War. No one likes him or tries to be nice to him. He's always being shoved around by the older gods and the only time I've ever heard anyone talk to the kid was to hiss at him to "go away". That was me a hundred and some years ago and I can tell you truly that it's *not* a fun way to grow up. He's just a shy kid who wants to have fun with some friends, but he doesn't *have* any. Besides, it's not his fault that he was born a brunette."

Cupid rolled his eyes since he knew that Strife couldn't see him from that angle. No matter how hard either of them tried, neither he nor his mom could convince Strife that the color of one's hair did *not* indicate how happy or sad a person's life would be. Somehow in that warped mind of his, the Mischief God had equated blonde with happy and brunette with sad and depressed and nothing would change his opinion.

"Strife...what did you do?"

Strife lazily waved a bejeweled hand and a mirror shimmered into existence floating in mid air. It pulsed with a pale blue light for a brief second and then it began to show the image of Cupid's youngest brother Phobos. At least...Cupid *thought* it was Phobos.

His brother's once long silky raven locks were now a bright shinning golden yellow that fluttered around his smiling...*smiling?*...face. A chain of woven daisies crowned his head in a style very reminiscent of Cupid's beloved and well missed cousin Persephone. To make matters worse, Phobos was wearing a pale yellow and soft green dress and held a hand-stitched rag doll on his lap. He appeared to be in the mortal realm in a field of flowers surrounded by a bevy of seven and eight year old human girls that were all smiling and giggling.

Cupid's jaw dropped and his eyes bugged out. "Hades on a pogo stick. You really *did* turn my brother into a girl. No wonder Ares is popping a blood vessel."

Strife snorted again, but he gestured at the scrying mirror. "Yeah, but...look at him, Cupe. He's *happy*! For the first time in his life, he's smiling and laughing. And did you know that in the few hours that he's been with his new friends that he's actually used his godhood?"

Cupid frowned and looked down at Strife's head in his lap. "Really?"

Strife nodded. "Yeah. He's managed to cure one little girl of her fear of the dark and another of her fear of loud sudden noises."

"Uh...not to sound stupid, but...wouldn't that hurt him. I mean, new hair-do and pretty dresses aside, he *is* the God of Fear."

Strife shook his head and Cupid bit his lip at the sensation that created in his lap. "Naw. The fear's still there. He gets a charge from it no matter if the mortal learns to control the fear or if the fear controls the mortal. The only difference is in how the mortal feels about *him*. Personally, I mean. One way they hate him and the other they don't."

Cupid thought about that for a moment. In a weird and twisted way, he could understand. His own godhood was Love and he had compete control over that emotion in mortals. He could make someone fall in love...or he could make them never feel that wonderful feeling so that they spent their entire lives lonely and sad. He just *chose* to bring them together and make them happy. And because of that, he was worshipped and adored by the masses. The more he thought of it the more he wondered just why his brother should be denied the chance to be respected and trusted by the people in the mortal realm.

"Okay. You convinced me. Go on and get her...him, whatever, and bring him back here. I'll help you hide him from dad until he cools off or until you can convince mom to step in on Phobos' behalf. Cool?"

Strife sat up and bounced in excitement, a beaming smile of unadulterated joy on his face. "Way cool, Cupie." And then the God of Mischief leaned forward and placed a light and gentle kiss on Cupid's lips. Cupid gasped in surprise, but before he could pull away or deepen it into anything more, Strife disappeared in a flash of light and a shower of blue sparkles. Raising one hand up to caress his lips, Cupid stared out all glassy-eyed into space. "Oh my..."



TITLE: Attack of the Blondes
AUTHOR: Scorpio [scorpiofic@aol.com]
ARCHIVE: Yes.
FANDOM: X:WP
RATING: R {adult situations}
WARNING: A bit of Ares bashing. Nothing too graphic, but a bit angsty.
DISCLAIMER: Ren Pics, Flat Earth Prod; Yes. Lowly humble Scorpio; No.
NOTES: Winks at Corona. I braided his hair for you, my dear.
SUMMARY: After the events in both "Blonde Ambition" and "Gentle Blonde Persuasion" Ares decides to put his foot down. Unfortunately for him, Dite then steps on his toes.



Attack of the Blondes
by Scorpio

Ares sat at the head of his dinning table and scowled. The ruins of his feast sat before him and the first rumblings of indigestion began to spark in his stomach. Eris wasn't here, but that was okay, she was doing a job for him by stirring up the anthill known as Thebes. However, there were two other chairs that were empty at his table and he wasn't as amused or as forgiving about those two empty spots.

The chair that was reserved for the God of Mischief and Mayhem was not only empty, it was beginning to collect dust. An even more telling sign that Strife hadn't eaten with the family was that there was no food dripping from the chandelier nor was there any insane cackles and giggles echoing off of the rafters. It was oddly...lonely without his nephew here.

Then there was Phobos' chair. That spot was also empty. And while it was less obvious in other ways since the quiet and shy boy rarely made a fuss, his absence was more of a sore spot than Strife's disappearance. Strife, at least, was an adult; Phobos was not. Like Demios, Phobos was still a child and therefore, he was Ares' responsibility. Not that Ares had anything against Strife wanting to spend time with the boy, but the least he could do was *ask*...and bring him back home.

With a sigh, Ares' turned to face the only person who had been there to share the evening meal with him. Never one for conversation, even at the level of most seven year olds, Demios was grinning like a loon from his spot at the table, a fork clenched tightly in one fist. The boy would then stab his other hand with the fork, blink rapidly to clear any tears away and then giggle hysterically. Ares sighed again and then rolled his dark eyes.

Brooding for a few moments longer, Ares finally decided that he'd had enough of this waiting crap. He'd called Strife several times to get him to bring his son home and neither one had even answered, let alone shown up. Well, he wasn't going to take that kind of disrespect anymore. He'd go get the boy himself. Reaching out with his mind, Ares located both of their power signatures at the Temple of Love. Scowling, he pulled in his own power and translocated over there.

With a bright flash of energy that bathed Ares' vision blood red for a brief moment, he found himself standing in the main lounging area of the Temple of Love. The walls were white marble and the tiled floor was golden. Pink sofa's and chairs were strewn here and there with bright red and crisp white throw pillows. Statuary, cut flowers and tapestries decorated all the various nooks and crannies of the room. All in all, it was just a bit too bright and cheery for Ares' tastes. Almost against his will, he grimaced. Then, he got a good look at the occupants of the room. That didn't help his temper at all.

Cupid wasn't so much of a shock to his senses. He'd long since learned to expect odd behavior from the boy. He was a Love God, after all. He lay belly down in a nest of white and red pillows with his knees bent and his bare feet up in the air. His soft white wings were slowly flapping, creating a gentle breeze that blew down over his own back. He looked like he was waiting to be seduced.

Then there was Strife, or at least he thought it was Strife. His unruly hair was so pale a blonde as to almost be white and he was only slightly more dressed than Cupid in a pair of odd blue pants. He wouldn't have even recognized the younger God if it hadn't been for the tattoos that were decorating his arms and back. A wide grin split his face and his pale blue eyes glittered even as his one hand was raised up and glowing a sparkling bright blue. The long line of stuffed animals, rag dolls and wooden soldiers that were doing the Limbo with one of Cupid's arrows was more than enough to tell Ares just what it was the Mischief God was using his powers to do. The sight made Ares' jaw drop open and his eyes bug out a bit.

However, the burning rage and the need to shred people limb from limb didn't hit him until he caught sight of Phobos. His son, his boy, his pale quiet child that haunted the shadows and gave everyone a fit of the shivers was wearing a flowing yellow and green dress and was sporting twin blonde braids that swirled about his head. Ares' heart stuttered. The boy was also laughing and smiling and dancing around the toys as they marched in Strife's Limbo Line, and wasn't *that* a creepy thing to see. But as strange and oddly frightening as it was to see the future God of Fear having fun, Ares just couldn't get passed the...*dress* that he was wearing. He *knew* that he had told Strife to get the child back into his own clothes when he had spied on Phobos earlier in the day and it seemed that the Mischief God didn't bother to obey his order.

His vision starting to waver and his blood pressure shooting up so high that he felt as if the room was wavering, Ares tilted his head back and screamed, "Why in Tartarus is my son in a *dress*?!"

Instantly, all of the toys fell over onto the floor and Cupid's arrow followed them with a clatter. Phobos dashed over to stand behind Strife and his smile faded away into a sad and frightened look as he peeked out from behind the Mischief God's leg. Cupid pushed himself up into a kneeling position, his bronzed features going pale. He whimpered, "Mommy."

And apparently she heard because just as Ares took a single step towards Mischief and Fear, the Goddess of Love appeared in all her glory and a brief shower of rose petals. Her hair was perfect, her outfit was exquisite if a bit see-through and her nails were buffed to a high sheen. "What's up, kid-o?"

Cupid merely pointed a shaky finger at the raging God of War, so when Aphrodite turned to look at him, Ares answered with a snarl. "I've come to collect Phobos and to beat some responsibility into Strife. He's been slacking off on his duties to me so that he can come here and play. It's going to stop."

Dite gave him a startled stare and Cupid shivered, but Strife merely shook his head and grinned. "Aww Unc, don't be like that. You just don't understand. It's a blonde thing."

And that statement was just strange enough to stop Ares in his tracks as he tried to figure it out. "A *blonde* thing?"

Strife nodded and took a deep breath, no doubt to try and explain exactly what in the world a blonde thing was, but someone beat him out in the babble race. Clutching onto the Mischief God's leg as if he were the only solid thing in the universe, Phobos began to babble in what was obviously panicked heartbreak.

"No! I don't *wanna* go home. I *hate* it at home. Nobody likes me there and I don't *wanna* be your boy anymore. I wanna stay here with Strife and be his little sister cause now I have friends! People talked to me and smiled at me today! I don't *wanna* go back. *Please* don't make me go! I wanna be *happy*!"

Completely ignoring the fact that Phobos was seven, not seven hundred, Ares couldn't comprehend what he was hearing. It was beyond confusing. How anyone could want to be *smiled* at when they could inspire sheer unadulterated *terror* in people was stupefying. He sneered.

"You are *not* here to make friends! Your purpose is to scare the living daylights out of people, not hold their hands. I won't put up with this defiance, Phobos. You're gonna come home, take off that *stupid* outfit so that I can burn it and then you are going to keep on doing what you have been doing. Now!"

He took another step towards his wayward child, but then Dite was there in his face and snarling. A sharp pointed fingernail poked him painfully in the chest as she shrieked at him.

"How *dare* you speak to my baby that way! Phobos and Demios may have been slated for the House of War, but they are *still* my children. I'm not going to stand by and watch as you wring every shred of happiness out of my baby's childhoods just so that they can fit into some twisted ideal of what you think they *should* be. They're just *kids* Ar, not mindless drones."

A tiny awed voice peeped up from behind them. "*You're* my momma?"

You could have heard a pin drop as all sound in the room came slamming to a halt. Ares had the sense to cringe. Then, the moment was broken by Strife's insane giggles. "You're in for it now Big Guy. I *told* you that you should let the short people know who their family is. I for one would *love* to know who spawned me on mom and I'm sure that Demi and Pho feel the same way."

Pink sparks sizzled around Aphrodite even as her eyes got very wide as the implications of what she'd just heard sunk into her mind.

"They don't know!"

Looking into the furious face of his ex-girlfriend, Ares began to be afraid. He took a step back, unfortunately, Dite followed and continued to punctuate all of her words with sharp jabs to his chest with her fingernails.

"All of the invitations to dinner? They never got them, did they? All of the gifts during holidays and for their birthdays? You never gave them to the boys, did you? All of the times I asked to see them and you claimed they were too busy to visit...were they *really* too busy or were you just trying to keep me away from them? Huh, Ares?"

Ares lifted both hands up as if to ward off a blow and his mouth opened and closed several times, but nothing came out. Dite just snarled.

"Strife, give Phobos to Cupid and then go to the Halls of War and get Demios. Bring him back to me."

"Anything for you, aunt Dite." Then the Mischief God was handing over a dress wearing godling to the God of Love. A last gentle pat on Phobos' head and Strife was gone in a shower of blue sparks and a blast of echoing giggles.

Shocked by her demand to Strife, Ares pulled himself together long enough to growl back at his ex. "What are you doing, Dite. The boys are *mine*. They belong to the House of War."

She nodded her head once and then crossed both arms over her chest. "Yes, they are...or they *will* be. Just as soon as they reach the age of adulthood and are able to take up their official duties. And from the rate they seem to be growing, that will be in about a decade. Until then, *I* am going to keep them here, will *me*. I am their mother and they don't even *know* that. How *dare* you keep them from knowing me? Until they are officially old enough to take up their duties for you, they are *mine*! Got that stud?"

Ares gaped at her, his dark eyes going a bit wide. "Holy shit! You've been infected by Strife's insanity!" The stunned War God was too busy feeling shock pour through his body as he desperately tried to rationalize the events that were spinning out of his control to notice the arrival to two other gods behind him. "That's it, isn't it? You've spent so much time in the presence of Strife, that his craziness has become contagious and warped what little mind you had to begin with. Now you're as nuts as he is."

In a blur of motion, Strife dashed around him and shoved Demios and his beloved fork into Aphrodite's arms and then turned to face Ares. His face was crumpled up in an expression of hurt, blue eyes swimming in tears that refused to fall and his full bottom lip all a tremble. "You think I'm insane?" His voice was small and soft. Ares just gaped at him, unsure how to answer that question without lying or volunteering for a century of finding sand in his bedsheets and custard in his boots.

Then suddenly Dite stepped up behind Strife and put one delicate hand on his bare shoulder and patted him soothingly. "Shhh...sweetie. It's all okay. We all knew that you weren't wrapped too tightly in the head for decades now and we still adore you. You being crazy hasn't stopped Cupie from becoming your best friend, has it?"

A whispered and wobbly, "no" and Dite was cooing softly at him even as she gently steered him towards Cupid. The Love God reached out and pulled him into a one armed hug even as Phobos leaned across his brother and dropped a kiss on Strife's cheek.

Ares growled. "You won't get away with this Dite."

She smirked. It was a nasty and knowing expression on her normally sunny face. "Watch me, leather boy."

With a snarl, Ares took a step towards his ex when a blur of blue and gold rushed between them and he found himself looking down into the sparkling eyes of the Mischief God. "You really wanna play, Ares? You might be able to kick my ass six ways till Sunday, but I'll give you one Tartarus of a workout and wear you down so that when it's aunt Dite and Cupie's turn, they'll be able to take you out."

Both eyebrows raising up into his hairline, Ares stared down at Strife in amazement. "You'd really sacrifice yourself for *them*?" A manic grin and a brief shrug were his only answer. Then he looked over Strife's shoulders to see both Aphrodite and Cupid glaring at him, each clutching a small child tightly to them in a protective embrace. Scowling, Ares admitted to himself that he wasn't willing to take on the combined House of Love *and* the God of Mischief by himself and all at once.

"This isn't over!" With that, Ares flexed his power and transported himself to the Halls of War. Silence seemed to echo around the empty building, so in a fit of temper Ares kicked apart a small end table just to hear it break and crack. When it lay shattered into small splinters of wood at his feet Ares stomped over to his throne and threw himself in it for a good brooding session.

Anger raged through him and he flexed his fingers into fists in time with his pounding heartbeat. While normally flighty, he knew that his ex-grilfriend was a total bitch at heart, so he wasn't very surprised by her whole pit-bull routine. Part of him wanted to pound her into the dirt and part of him wanted to pound her into a mattress. He could...eventually...brush that all aside though. It was the boys that hurt him the most.

Strife was undoubtedly insane. He had watched him as a young boy as the Mischief God slowly and methodically went around the bend. At the time he had been worried and went to see his mother about it. Hera had coldly informed him that *all* Mischief Gods of *every* pantheon went insane. It was, apparently, inherent in the godhood itself. He had to agree with her. He had only ever met two others with that godhood; Loki of Asgard and Coyote of North America across the great ocean. Both of them were cunning, intelligent and unapologetically mad.

While Ares was willing to forgive some of what Strife had done and said by just labeling it as a symptom of his madness, he could not and would not forgive Strife for defying him. He had called to Strife to come home and he hadn't, what's worse, he had stood between Ares and his target. Brave, yes...stupid, also yes. Ares wasn't against Strife defending Aphrodite...just as long as it wasn't against *him*. That was unforgivable.

Then there was his sons. Traitorous, the whole lot of them. Cupid was sort of understandable, he wasn't a member of the House of War. But Phobos? The boy should know better. Granted, he was only a child but if this went unpunished then he would grow up to believe that he could defy Ares whenever he wanted to. Couldn't she see that he was doing this for the boy's own good?

And that's when it hit him. She *couldn't* see that. Not at all. All Aphrodite saw was a nephew that had gone insane while living under his roof and two small boys that she hadn't set eyes upon since they were old enough to be weaned. And what with Phobos' hissy-fit, she had it in her mind that the boy's were unhappy and neglected. She...Ares felt his face go pale as the blood rushed out of his head...she thought that he was a bad father. Thinking back to the look of panic on Phobos' face when he had announced that he was taking the boy back home, he wondered for the first time ever if she might just be right. Lifting a slightly trembling hand to rub at his temple, Ares began to replay all of his memories of his children, looking for proof that he was a good father to them.


END: Attack of the Blondes


TITLE: A Blonde Moment
AUTHOR: Scorpio [scorpiofic@aol.com]
ARCHIVE: Yes.
FANDOM: X:WP
RATING: PG-13 naughty language
WARNING: None really.
DISCLAIMER: Mine! Mine! They're all mine! *ZAP-BOOM* Aghhh! *sizzle-whimper* Not mine. *cough-cough* I own nothing. Nothing at all. *whimper* Owwie.
SUMMARY: Fourth in the "Blonde" series, Eris; Goddess of Discord and Conflict, contemplates her son's new look, new lifestyle and new outlook. Then, she experiments.



A Blonde Moment
by Scorpio

Eris transferred her scowl from the slowly fading blue shimmers floating in the air before her to the small neat glass jar held cradled in her right hand. Her frown deepened as if that one small jar was the source of all of her woes and worries, although it really was innocent in all of this mess.

When Ares had ordered her to go talk to her recalcitrant son so that she could try and figure out what was going on in his head, she had readily agreed. The trouble that Strife had stirred up between the House of War and the House of Love was feeding her massive energy, but by sitting down with him she could hear the other side of the story. That way, she could decide if it was worth it to keep things like they were or to help fix them. Originally, she had thought that Strife was just trying to get into Cupid's bed, but the kidnapping of Phobos and Demios by Aphrodite was a sure sign that things were heating up in a way that could lead to a war amongst the Olympian Houses. And if that were to happen without her son by their side, then the House of War would be at a disadvantage. So...she sat down and talked to her child.

The only problem now was that she could tell that he was happy. Not merely amused or snarky or feeling upbeat, but down deep in the soul happy. He laughed and giggled and bounced with just as much hyperness as always, but that manic edge of razor sharp pain seemed to have dulled away. And from what he'd told her, Strife was still causing lots of mischief and mayhem on the populace of Greece, it's just that instead of it erupting into wars and famine, his pranks tended to end in teen angst, teen promiscuity and parental frustrations. He'd even managed to convince one twisted young man to elope with the prize sheep from the local shepherd's flock. Which was funny in an 'ewww' sort of way.

Still, Eris had done her duty and made a play to convince Strife to come back to work for her and her twin Ares, but Strife didn't like that idea much. With wild gestures and quite a bit of flouncing about, he went on and on about how much happier he was and how he planned to stay with the House of Love forever. Curious, and just a bit indignant, she had demanded to know why it was better where he was.

The jar in her hand was his answer to that question. He had told her that it was all about being blonde, which didn't really make any sense to her. Strife had confided in a whisper that people were nicer to him now that he had blonde hair. He insisted that they were quicker to smile at him, more willing to forgive any of his goof-ups and seemed to genuinely care about his feelings. His parting shot of "Let's face it, people like and trust blonde's, but they snicker up their sleeves at brunettes," had left her wondering.

Was it really true? Could she inspire trust and loyalty in others just by changing her look?

Scowling hard at the jar of hair bleach, Eris chided herself. She *knew* that it wasn't logical, that it was all just a symptom of her son's dementia, but...what if it were true?

With a sigh of frustrated resignation, Eris admitted to herself that she wouldn't be able to get it out of her mind until she proved once and for all that this whole blonde thing was just the ravings of her mad child. So, she decided to test it out. Although, she didn't really want to be a blonde. Perhaps just a stripe? Right at her temple? Stomping off into the bathroom, she gazed at herself in the mirror with a frown of concentration. She imagined a single swath of pale blonde framing one side of her face against a background of blue-black curls.

Growling at her image, she put the jar down and picked up a comb. Muttering to herself for being a fool, she carefully began to section off the piece of hair that she planned to bleach while pulling back the rest into a knot at the back of her head. Reaching out, she grabbed up the jar and opened it. Instantly, noxious fumes rose up to make her eyes water and clear out her sinuses.

"Holy fuck, Strife. What's *in* this shit?"

Bracing herself for the stink to be even closer, Eris began to bleach the remaining strip of hair.

****

Mumbling sleepily as she made her way into the bathroom, Eris was in the middle of a full out stretch when she caught sight of herself in the mirror. She froze in shock at the image of a petite woman with dark hair that held a single incandescent streak of pale blonde spilling from her right temple. In a flood, memory rushed in and a fluttery feeling of panic settled in her chest.

"I can't believe that I really did that to myself."

While she personally thought that the bold stripe of pale blonde looked striking and daring, she had no idea how anyone else would react. Her imagination provided her with images of people snickering behind her back or even laughing to her face. She was used to people talking derisively about her in exaggerated whispers, but it was usually because of the things that she had done and not because they thought she looked like an idiot. For a brief moment she quailed and tried to think of where she could hide, but then she straightened her spine and gritted her teeth. She was Discord and she could handle this. No one was going to run *her* off with their snotty comments.

She bathed and then spent some time to carefully arrange her hair to highlight the blonde streak. Then, unsure if it was to call attention to her new look or to pretend it was an old one, Eris ignored her normal black leathers in favor of an outfit that she had worn almost twenty years ago. It was a crimson velvet affair with gold piping for trim. The crimson was flattering to her makeup and the gold piping seemed to make the blonde streak in her hair stand out. Staring into her mirror, she couldn't decide if she looked sexy and dangerous or demented and foolish. Finally, Eris growled at herself for 'hiding' in the bathroom and turned on one heal only to march determinedly out of the Halls of War and into Olympus proper.

She stormed down the paved avenue and around the corner directly into Clio. The muse of Historical Epics and Heroic Poetry bounced off of Eris and landed on her backside on the ground. Behind Clio, her heavily pregnant sister Calliope leaned against a grinning Apollo. Eris was about to make a rude and snarky comment about some people never watching where they are going and trying to attack a member of the House of War when Apollo did a classic double-take at her, looked her up and down like a side of beef and then leered. "My, my Eris. You're looking particularly...lovely today."

Eris blinked, confused at his lack of hostility. Suddenly, a soft and quiet voice came from around her knees. "Yes. You do, Eris. I've...I've always liked that outfit. And your hair is inspired." Uncertain what was going on, Eris glanced down to see Clio trying to pick herself up off of the ground. Not sure why she was helping, Eris reached down and grabbed onto Clio's arm and pulled her to her feet with a quiet grunt. Clio blushed rosily, "Thank you, Eris."

Startled at both the compliments and the gratitude, Eris snapped. "Why are you being nice to me? Someone might think you liked me."

Clio flushed and fidgeted and glanced down shyly even as Calliope and Apollo frowned at her rudeness. Finally, Clio shrugged and twisted her hands together as she whispered, "I've always liked you Eris."

She must have had an expression of disbelief on her face because Clio rushed on trying to convince her, "No! Really! I mean...I, I, I'm the muse of history, right? So, I'm always making the official records of everyone's adventures and such. And well, I've always admired you. Here you are, a female in a male dominated lifestyle and you never back down and you never give up. It's...well, you're very inspiring."

Now Apollo joined Eris in looking at Clio like she was nuts. The timid and petite muse flushed deeply, but she stood her ground. "I'm serious. How...how many females do you know of that are warriors? I don't mean the kind of woman that defends her home and family if the village is attacked, but *real* warriors that fight in regular armies."

Apollo shrugged and grinned, "The amazons come to mind." But Clio just shook her head no. "They don't count in this instance because they are a society unto themselves. Matriarchal. It's *expected* that they all hunt and fight so it's normal for them. So, how many female warriors *besides* the amazons?"

Apollo looked smug. "There's Xena." Clio raised up one eyebrow, "And...?" Apollo frowned again. "And...and... Um, I..." Clio shrugged at his confusion. "And then there's Minya." She nodded pointedly. "Xena and Minya. That's *two*. Count them. One. Two." Then Clio made a small gesture towards Eris. "Discord has had to fight and claw for every scrap of respect that she gets from Ares' warriors *because* she's a female. Mortal warriors tend to see women as objects; prizes to win, bait for traps and tools to use, but not as *real* people."

Eris was staring at Clio with new eyes as she was suddenly handed something that she so rarely got; recognition and respect. "You...you really feel that way about me?" She didn't mean to sound so needy and shook up, but she couldn't help it.

Clio turned to look at her and the muse's green eyes softened noticeably. Then, Clio raised up one hand and brushed her fingertips gently along Eris' new blonde lock and smiled shyly. "Why don't we go somewhere and discuss it?"

Stunned, Eris could only nod her head as Clio suddenly linked their arms at the elbow and led her off along the path leaving Apollo and Calliope to twitter and giggle behind them. An honest to Zeus smile spreading across her face for the first time in a long time, Eris figured that her darling Strife might very well be crazy, but he wasn't anywhere near to being stupid.

TITLE: Domesticated Blonde
SERIES: The Blonde Series; Blonde Ambition [1], Gentle Blonde Persuasion [2], Attack of the Blondes [3], A Blonde Moment [4].
AUTHOR: Scorpio
ARCHIVE: Yes; if you've already got the first four parts.
FANDOM: X:WP
PAIRING: C/S pre-slash-y-ness
RATING: PG
DISCLAIMER: Ren Pics and Flat Earth Prod own these people. I'm merely perverting their vision for kicks, not profit.
SUMMARY: Dite returns from a meeting with Zeus and Hera.


Domesticated Blonde
by Scorpio

With a triumphant smirk on her full lips and a sparkling gleam to her eyes, Aphrodite shimmered into being in a shower of silver glitter and pink rose petals. Her outfit du jour was a pink sequence covered french-cut two-piece bikini swimsuit with a sheer pink floor length robe trimmed in darker pink faux fur at the cuffs, collar and along the bottom hem. Her high healed mules also were trimmed in pink faux fur. It was sexy, campy and just this side of tacky, but it was also Zeus' favorite outfit and she had worn it especially for him. Big Daddy Z may very well be the head honcho around here, but he had difficultly processing any thoughts when he was busy oogling someone's breasts and Dite would turn in her credentials as the Goddess of Love if she couldn't make an oversexed middle-aged God going to pot oogle her firm plump and perfect breasts. And oogled they were because, *hot damn*, she was good.

Taking a brief moment to savor her victory, Dite let the energy patterns of her home temple wash over her. Instantly she could tell that all of her boys were here, including Strife. That thought softened her smile a bit. If anyone had told her three months ago that she would end up considering *Strife* as one of "her boys" then she would have laughed in their face and called him or her mad. Strange as it was though, it was true. He had practically moved into Cupid's bedroom, often falling into an exhausted sleep across his bed or in one of his big fluffy chairs. Even a few times he had stretched out over top of Cupid's large sheepskin rug to catch a few winks. Strife claimed it made him dream of mutton.

Still, the energy drifting through her temple was one of happiness and joy, spiced with just a twinge of confused lust. That just made her smirk again. Confused lust usually meant Cupie. Her sweet boy had it bad for Strife, but he didn't understand why. His emotions and body told him one thing, but his brain told him another. Hence, the confusion. Part of him wanted Strife and another part warned him of relationships with crazy people. Dite wasn't too worried, she knew that it would all work out in the end. And she didn't blame her boy in the least for desiring Strife. Eris might be a twisted, psychotic bitch with permanent PMS, but she made beautiful babies.

On the other hand, Strife wasn't focused on Cupid. Dite could tell when he was because he always radiated a sort of warm hunger. Lust, desire and an almost innocent type of love all rolled into one. Strife's thoughts might be erratic and chaotic, but his emotions were true and real. However, at the moment, he was projecting that strange and unique manic happiness and wicked thrill that he got whenever he was doing something that he knew he probably shouldn't.

Pho and Demi were both radiating a sort of stunned happiness, a sense of surreal joy. She wondered what they had managed to get up to while she was gone.

Turning around, Dite headed into the main gathering room of her home temple. Gliding through the open archway with an innate grace and sensuality that could bring strong men to their knees, she struck a pose and gaze out into the room. Only to freeze in shock. Strife, it *had* to be Strife, had pulled two busts from their pedestals and placed them on some parchment in the center of the room. One was a white marble bust of her and the other was a white marble bust of Cupid. Pho stood in front of her bust and Demi was in front of the one of his brother. Each of the twins was dressed in an old linen smock with a pallet of paints in one hand and a brush in the other. Bright streaks of water color were splashed over both marble statues.

Both of the young ones were smiling widely and a half naked Strife bounced between them offering encouragement and advice on how to "make Cupie and Mommy beautiful" with their paints. Cupid just sat off to the side with a slightly bemused smile on his face as he watched the three of them play.

Dite took a staggered step forward and squeaked. When four blonde heads turned to face her with innocent expressions plastered onto their features, Dite raised up one hand to point at the busts. Her mouth opened and closed like a gaping fish, but no sound came out. Cupid and the twins began to cringe at her reaction, but Strife just bounced over to her, a wide smile beaming from his happy face.

"The paints?"

She could merely nod.

"Oh well, don't worry about them aunt Dite. I made sure that they are purely water based. All I have to do is scrub them down with warm soapy water and the statue thingys will be a sparkling white once more. We're just playing, not trying to break 'em. See?"

She didn't see, not really. But she nodded her head anyway. If Strife said that he could clean up the mess, then she would hold him to that promise. If not, she'd just make him wear electric hot-pink satin short-shorts as his official "outfit" for the House of Love in order to get back at him. Although, knowing Strife, he'd find someway to make that look work for him. Then Cupid was also there, pulling her mind out of it's shock induced lock-down and putting her back into "mommy-mode".

"So...ah...how did the meeting go?"

Turning her head to face Cupid, she flashed him a blinding smile that was just a touch smug. Striking another pose, she gestured with one hand from the top of her head to the tip of her painted toes. "And just who could resist this?"

Strife and Cupid shared a quick glance and offered each other wicked grins before turning back and speaking in unison, "No one that *I* know." She preened.

Sashaying across the room, she delicately lowered herself into one of her favorite pink velvet covered chairs and automatically arranged her limbs in the most visually pleasing position. With a wave of her hand, she gestured for everyone to gather around her. Strife folded himself into a sitting position right on the floor at her feet and pulled Phobos into his arms. The tiny shy blonde leaned her head on his shoulder with complete trust. With a shrug, Cupid mimicked his move on her other side and pulled Demios into his arms. The little godling of Pain pinched his older brother and then giggled at his wince. Strife's eyes sparkled at the exchange, but Dite cleared her throat to get everyone's attention before anyone got sidetracked.

"I've got good news as well as some not so good news." Everyone sobered up and stared at her intently. She smiled gently. "Zeus and Hera have agreed to allow me to raise the twins here in the Temple of Love."

Brief cheering and a whooped "Go aunt Dite!" filled the air for a moment before she held out one perfectly manicured hand for silence. Slowly, order was restored.

"However, there is one concession that we must observe and honor. Both Phobos and Demios *are* members of the House of War. That could *not* be changed, no matter how much I argued it. That means that for one hour everyday, Ares gets the babies. One hour with Phobos and then one hour with Demios. Once a week he gets two hours with both of them together. This is for...training purposes so that they can learn their jobs. However, until they actually reach the age of adulthood, they will live here, with me and Cupid. At that time, they can decide for themselves if they want to live here or move in with Ares."

Cupid pouted, his full bottom lip in danger of getting tangled in Demios' blonde curls, but Strife grinned and nodded. "That's good and it makes sense. It'll also go a long way towards cooling Ares' temper if he knows that he isn't being denied all access to the boys. After a while, he might even come to appreciate not having to constantly worry about them when he has to be away from the Halls of War for long periods of time."

Dite raised up one perfectly sculpted eyebrow in doubt, but she figured that Strife did probably know Ares best, at least from the business end of things. Then she frowned...she hoped that Strife took this next bit of news well. It had the potential to blow up in everyone's face, but she honestly believed that he had the right to know.

"Strife, honey. The other thing that I wanted to talk to you guys about is...well, it's about you."

Strife tipped up his head to look at her. White blonde fluff framed a sweet face that seemed to be open and guileless...until you looked in his pale blue eyes. Those eyes were jaded by pain and hurt and years of abuse and neglect. So much wisdom in those eyes...wisdom, pain and madness. She sighed.

"I talked to...several people about you wishing to change allegiance to the House of Love. If you are going to do this, it *has* to be official or we can all get in trouble. Obviously, I asked for you full time and Ares demanded you back, also full time. Surprisingly, Eris said that while she wanted you back in the Halls of War, she felt that if you wanted to work with Cupie as an "official hobby" that you should be allowed to as long as your work for her and Ares was completed. Also...your..." Dite swallowed and prayed to Gaia that she was making the right decision to tell him this. "...your...father made an appearance at the meeting."

Strife's normally pale face went bone white and he swayed from his spot on the floor. Dite was certain that it was only his clutching hold on Phobos that kept him from either fainting or freaking out. "My..." his voice was a harsh croak. "...fa...father?"

With sad compassion and love, Dite nodded her head and reached out with one hand to run gentle fingertips along the side of his face. "Yes, sweetie. Your father; Hermes."

Dite paused a moment to let the shocking information sink into his mind. However, as soon as she saw a tiny spark of anger flare in his eyes, she began to speak again. He needed to understand everything before he flipped out and did irreparable damage.

"You see, it's all a strange misunderstanding. No one really knew all of the details until now. Eris and Hermes were not seeing each other for very long, nor were they the most happy couple when they were together. They spent most of their time fighting and arguing over their jobs. Eris felt that Hermes didn't understand that her duties weren't always pleasant and Hermes felt that Eris just didn't get that he was busy almost constantly because of his *job*, not because he was cheating on her. They broke up for the last time when she was still pregnant with you."

Dite shrugged, her eyes softening with compassion as she felt the waves of hurt and confusion rolling off of the God of Mischief.

"That's where the misunderstanding comes from, you see? Eris thought that Hermes didn't want anything to do with you, so she never told you who your father was. Hermes, on the other hand, thought that you knew but hated him for leaving your mom. And all this time, you never knew that Hermes *was* your dad and he was suffering in silence wishing that you would just forgive him and love him."

Cupid whistled in awe. "And no one figured this out for what...almost a century and a half?"

Dite shook her head sadly at her oldest son. "No sweetie. I didn't figure it out until Strife made that comment about his warning Ares to tell the twins about me being their mom. At first I was super pissed that Pho and Demi didn't know who I was, but afterward, I realized that he meant *himself* as well. Then...I tracked down both Hermes and Eris to try and figure out what went wrong. Apparently, I was the first person to care enough and was stubborn enough to force them both to admit the truth about what happened. That's why no one figured it out until now."

Strife scowled, a slightly self-mocking expression twisting his features. "So...what? It was all just some dumb misunderstanding? A fucking Greek tragedy?" A bitter twist to his lips, "I guess that makes me the comic relief, huh?"

Phobos shifted around on Strife's lap so that he could clutch tighter to the Mischief God even as Cupid slid over to wrap one arm around his cousin's broad shoulder's and squeeze him into a comforting half hug. Dite sighed.

"Both Eris and Hermes asked me to tell you the truth so that you would know what happened and then you could decide what to do about it...if you want to forgive them for, well, for being stupid idiots. However, Zeus and Hera still made a ruling about your official duties. They figured that Ares couldn't really do without you, so you are still a member of the House of War, however they also agreed that after so long of feeling unwanted and abused that you should be happy. So, you're also a member of the House of Love. Zeus decreed that you would alternate between working for me and for Ares. One day with me, one day with Ares. You can maintain a room and official status both here and in the Halls of War."

For a long moment, everyone was perfectly still and silent as they watched the God of Mischief and Mayhem with wary and sympathetic eyes. He mostly seemed to be stunned, his vision turned inward to sights only he could see. Then, gently, he shifted Phobos up out of his lap and gave the paint smeared little godling a nudge over towards Cupie and stood up. With sad blue eyes that almost seemed haunted, he turned and gave a half shrug to Aphrodite.

"I'm sorry...I...I gotta go."

With a flash of erratic barely controlled power and a cascade of bright blue sparks, he was gone.

****

Two days later, Aphrodite stood in an empty and almost blindingly white room deep inside her home temple on Olympus. She had decided that this would be the twins' bedroom and now it needed to be decorated. However, while she thought that she had exquisite taste, she *was* doing this room for two small boys that would eventually be soldiers for the House of War. So...tipping her blonde head back, she cried out for her nephew.

"Strife!"

With a flash of light and a shower of blue sparks, the Mischief God appeared. He was dressed in his full black leather armor and smeared liberally with blood. A manic gleam shone in his eyes and his full lips were twisted into an amused smile.

"You called, aunt Dite?"

She wrinkled her nose daintily and gestured to his gore splattered clothes with one painted nail. "Um? Have fun lately, sweetcheeks?"

Almost confused, Strife glanced down at himself in a sort of shock, then giggled his high pitched insane laugh before sweeping one hand through the air. A surge of power removed his bloody armor and replaced it with a soft worn pair of those pale bluejeans he adored and a white cotton t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He quirked one eyebrow up at her with a grin on his lips, "Better?"

With a soft smile, she nodded. "Yes, much." Then her face softened in compassion. "Want to talk about it, kid-o?"

He shrugged and a pained expression darkened his sunny face. "At first I was just...pissed. I sorta took that out on some of mom's favorites and a few of Hermes more talented thieves. Then I ran across Autolycus."

Dite flinched at the thought of the kind of pain that Strife was capable of inflicting on the handsome and roguish thief even if he *was* protected by Olympian law. Strife must have sensed her worry for he shrugged and grinned again, this time a bit sheepishly.

"At first I was going to go with the whole torture thing. I mean, he had our dad's love and support right from the start and *I* didn't even get acknowledged, right? I figured that I could teach him just what jealously can lead to in a guy raised by the Goddess of Discord and Conflict. But then I realized something. He's my brother, ya know?"

Softly, with compassion shinning in her eyes and making her chest feel tight, Dite nodded her head and laid one tiny hand on his shoulder in support. "Yeah, he is."

Then Strife's grin grew larger and his eyes sparkled with wicked mirth, "So I figured that the most evil torture that I could inflict on the guy was to let him know that he was the little brother of the God of Mischief and Mayhem and then insist that we hang out together and do 'brother' things with each other."

For a brief second, Aphrodite didn't know how to react to this admission. It certainly wasn't what she expected. She had expected to hear a disgusting story about how Strife broke all of Auto's fingers so that he'd never be able to pick a lock again. But...a story about inflicting brotherly affection on a man as a form of torture?

"He's heading towards Athens right now. I figure if I wait until he's in the middle of some tavern and hitting on some barmaid to pop in and make the announcement that it'd make him grind the gears in his head. I mean, he thinks that *Jett* popping in on him unannounced gives him a case of the screaming-horrors, then wait till he gets a load of me, eh?"

The name Jett seemed familiar to Dite, but she couldn't place why. Instead, she just imagined how the studly thief would react to having Strife appear out of thin air to harass him at random intervals and chuckled. Leaning over, she placed a soft kiss against his cheek. "I think you'll make an excellent big brother, sweetie."

Strife giggled and pressed against her for a brief second before pulling back and looking pointedly around the plain white room. "Uh...aunt Dite. Not to be rude or nothing, but what's with this place? No pink? No gold? No tassels or lace? I mean, this has got to be the most boring room in the whole temple."

It wasn't a very subtle attempt to change the subject, but she let it go. Partly because she knew that Strife's emotions were still kind of raw and partly because she really did want his help here. She gestured to the bare walls around her.

"I was going to give this room to Pho and Demi as their bedroom here in the Temple of Love. They're not old enough to decorate a room yet, so I've got to do it. That's fine, I don't mind doing it. It's just...well, I sort of wanted your help. You know them best, so...I thought you'd have some good ideas of what they'd like. This can be your first official duty as a member of the House of Love."

Strife nodded, an unusually serious expression on his face. "I've seen their bedrooms over in the Halls of War. Ares decorated the rooms to match their godhood. Pain and Terror, they might be...but I gotta tell you aunt Dite, they're also little kids." He shook his head slightly, a sad twist to his lips. At that moment, Dite decided that she was going to find a way inside the Halls of War and she was going to get a good look at the rooms that her babies had slept in...as well as Strife's room.

"That's why I want your help. I want something that they will be comfortable in, but not something so...Ares like. I also want it to flow with the rest of the temple, too."

Strife looked around the plain white room and squinted his eyes in thought. "Well, I know that you tend to make white and pink the main colors with red and gold as accents. You might want to make red and gold the main colors in here. That will blend it into the rest of the temple, but the darker and deeper colors will...mesh with their godhoods better than white and pink."

Aphrodite glanced at him sideways and saw that he really meant that. Then, she looked over the room and considered it. It wasn't a decorating scheme that she would have thought of, but it did make sense. With a shrug, she figured that she could always get rid of it if she didn't like it. Reaching deep inside herself to tap into the wellspring of power created and sustained by mortal love, Dite let it loose on the room.

The floor shimmered for a second and then it was covered in a deep shiny candy-apple red ceramic tiled pattern. Every fourth tile was decorated with a gold diamond on it. Next, the walls shimmered and then they were papered with heavy gold velvet that had a handpainted red pattern running around the length of the room about halfway up. Strife ran a gentle fingertip along the painted pattern and snorted with amusement. It was the same interlocking geometric pattern of overlapping tiles that was tattooed around his arm in a band. Then, the white marble ceiling glowed briefly. When the glow faded, dark pink veins ran through it.

"That's perfect, aunt Dite." Strife was gazing around the room with a broad smile on his face. Aphrodite wasn't sure, however. It seemed awfully dark to her, as if the room had been dipped in a vat of liquid gold and blood had been splashed on the floor. She frowned.

"I don't know...it's very...dark. And plain."

Strife shrugged. "With furniture and stuff in here, that'll lessen the effect a bit." He pointed to two separate corners of the far wall. "We could put a bed in each corner. One for Pho and one for Demi." Then he spun to look behind him. "Then a set of shelves and a...um, a vanity?"

Dite nodded her head. "Okay. We'll see how it looks all finished before we decide." Then, she gritted her teeth and waved her hand. Two identical beds sprang into being in the indicated corners. They were both made of a golden oak wood and came with thick comfy mattresses.

Strife tilted his head as he pointed to one of the beds. "For Pho?" Aphrodite shrugged her acquiesce and Strife nodded then waved a hand at the bed. A bright flash of light and the bed was made up in soft pale pink sheets, a deep red satin down-filled blanket and a bevy of pink and gold throw pillows. Then he looked over at the other bed, the one that would be Demi's. He waved his hand again and another flash of light followed. When it faded, the other bed was made up with soft black sheets, a deep red satin down-filled blanket identical to Pho's and a bevy of dark black and gold throw pillows.

Dite grinned and then gestured to the area between the two beds. The window there was suddenly trimmed with a pink sheers and red satin draperies tied back with twin strings of shiny black beads. A small round table popped into existence under the window. It was draped in gold material with pale pink lace over the gold satin. A gold candelabra with red candles in it appeared on top of the decorated table.

Strife paused a moment and tilted his fluffy blonde head in that way that meant that he was seriously considering something. Then, with a snap of his fingers, a pristine and fluffy white sheepskin identical to the one in Cupid's bedroom appeared on the tile floor between the two beds. Dite turned her head and smirked at her nephew. He shrugged and looked unrepentant. "What? I never said that they'd keep it clean, but it *is* nice to have something warm to step on when the floor's cold in the morning." Dite laughed, but didn't argue.

Turning to face the wall behind her, Dite called on her powers again to create a wooden set of shelves in the same glowing oak that the beds were made of. She left the shelves empty, well, except for the top of the wooden case. There she put a shiny red enamel vase filled with pink and white flowers. She figured that the twins could keep their toys and story scrolls on the shelves.

Then, she waved her hand again and a small oak vanity complete with gilt edged mirror appeared next to the set of shelves. It had several drawers for the twins to keep any treasures that they might have or wish to collect. It also had a fairly decent sized flat top for them to put any jars or bottles that ended up being used often.

On one side of the room was a closet for clothes and on the other was the door that led into the rest of the temple. Dite still thought it was a bit...dark, but Strife was looking around with a large grin on his face.

"So...what? Too much do you think?"

He shook his head. "Naw. It's perfect. Pho and Demi will, of course, make their mark on the room. With all of their things and stuff, but it's like, a thousand times cheerier than the rooms they have at Unc's place."

Dite frowned at that. She *really* wanted to get a look at the bedrooms that her babies had been made to sleep in. She was just about to start quizzing Strife on that topic when a sudden shriek cut through the air of the temple. She and Strife exchanged startled glances. That was Cupid's voice that yelled in what seemed to be surprise and pain. Without a word, they both turned and dashed off.

Cupid was easy to track down. They found him with Phobos and Demios in the small room off of Aphrodite's main bedroom that she had dedicated as a "dressing room". It held all of her clothes, a huge vanity, almost all of her makeup and jewelry. Mirrors and bright lights were in abundance as well. It was there that Cupid was supervising a game of "dress-up" that Pho and Demi were enjoying.

The twins looked ridiculous in Dite's too large outfits and with makeup smeared all over their faces. It was obvious that they were having the time of their lives, but that didn't explain Cupid's yell.

"Cupie! Sweetie! What...uh, what happened?"

Cupid blushed bright red even as Phobos and Demios tried to hide behind their older brother, certain that they were in trouble. Strife's insane cackling didn't help the situation any as Cupid stammered and stuttered out an incoherent answer. Rubbing her forehead with one hand, Dite held out the other in a 'stop now' gesture. Cupid's babbling ground to a halt and Strife valiantly, if unsuccessfully, tried to swallow his giggles.

"Cupid. Why did you yell? It sounded as if you were in pain. We'll...deal with the...rest of this situation later."

Strangely enough, Cupid blushed even harder. "Uh...well, you know those clip-on earrings that you had made when you were pregnant?"

Dite nodded. She remembered them well. During her pregnancy with the twins she had found that she couldn't wear her regular earrings since the metal posts irritated her earlobes badly. Once the boys were born, that all stopped and she didn't need the clip-on earrings anymore.

"Yeah. So?"

Embarrassment informing every line of his body, he gestured to his left nipple which was now decorated with a sparkling rose quartz clip-on earring. "Uh...Demi decided that I needed to play dress-up too. It sorta...hurt when he clipped it on. And then I...I didn't yelp. That would be undignified." He lifted his chin defiantly. Everyone there knew that he had yelped and Cupid knew that they knew. But he silently dared them to say it out loud. It was Strife that broke the tension with a comment from out of left field.

"I bet that gave Demi here a bit of a charge, huh?" Dite frowned at that thought although it was most likely true, what with him being the God of Pain and all. Strife continued to babble, excitement growing in his voice. "I bet that Hephy could make things like this specifically for nipples. You know, instead of rings like I got, make 'em into clips and clamps where you could...I don't know, adjust the pressure on the nipple from mild discomfort to incredibly painful."

Strife was staring at Demios in deep thought and Aphrodite was about to open her mouth and argue the point when Strife nodded his head. "Yep. I bet that Demi would like that, too. I'll go talk to Hephy about it right now. Catch you guys later." And then he was gone in a flash of light and a shower of blue sparkles.

Cupid and Aphrodite exchanged identical looks of mild worry, but Demi just offered up his own version of insane giggles while Pho struggled to walk over to a floor to ceiling mirror in a dress five times too big for her. For a brief moment, Dite wondered just what she had gotten herself into, but then she shrugged that thought off. This was her family and she loved them. Even the insane ones

TITLE: Blonde Fascination
SERIES: The Blonde Series; Blonde Ambition [1], Gentle Blonde Persuasion [2], Attack of the Blondes [3], A Blonde Moment [4], Domesticated Blonde [5].
AUTHOR: Scorpio [scorpiofic@aol.com]
ARCHIVE: Yes; if you have the first five in this series.
FANDOM: Xena: Warrior Princess
RATING:
DISCLAIMER: Everything "Xena" belongs to Ren Pics and Flat Earth Prod. I intend no copyright infringements and make no money from this.
SUMMARY: Strife, worried about his uncle Ares, decides that the War God needs a little love and happiness in his life. Chaos and mayhem ensues.



Blonde Fascination
by Scorpio


Strife stared intently into the mirror, his lips twisted down into a frown. His eyes were drying out from not blinking, but that was okay. He was running his hands through his hair and concentrating very hard on what he saw; dark roots. Strife figured that either his hair was growing out or the bleach he had used was sinking into his brain. He suspected that it was the second one, that as he had fun and felt fulfilled he would inadvertently 'use up' the blonde in his hair causing it to sink into his brain to create 'blonde memories'.

Not one to let a little thing like fate stand in his way, Strife flexed his power and called his tight leather gloves and his jar of hair bleach to him. Sliding the tight gloves on, he very carefully opened the jar only to wince and flinch back at the overwhelming noxious fumes. Instantly, his eyes began to water and his sinuses cleared. Using a carved bone fine-toothed comb as an applicator, Strife began the tedious process of touching up his dark roots.

As he stood there working, he had to concede that it *was* an interesting look. Perhaps if the proportions were reversed? Instead on a tiny bit of dark roots, if it was just a tiny bit of blonde at the tips? A slow smile crossed his face at that thought. He knew who that look would work on real well. It also happened to be someone that could seriously benefit from a little blonde in his life. Maybe then he'd stop moping around like someone had kicked his dog...as if anyone would be stupid enough to try it. Greagus would bite their foot off.

Humming a lewd tavern song about a shepherdess, a barmaid and a warrior; Strife made his plans while bleaching his roots.

****

It had been ridiculously easy to bribe Hypnos; God of Sleep into helping him with his plan. All he had to do was make a pretty little green-haired water nymph fall in love with him. He had even gotten Cupid's okay and help on that one, which was good since Cupid's lovey-dovey spells were more of a true love type thing whereas his own lovey-dovey spells were more of an obsessive teen crush type thing. Everyone was happy; Cupid got his mom praising him for such a good match, Hypnos got his wet naked honey-bunny, and he got one favor from the God of Sleep.

Clenching the enchanted acorn in his fist, Strife stayed crouched down in the shadowy corner of the main audience chamber of the Halls of War. He was hidden from the throne behind a tall black marble column and he was as quiet as a mouse. All he had to do was wait...and wait...and wait. Just as he was about freak out from sheer unrelenting boredom, his victim...um, er...the lucky recipient of his attention and talents, materialized into the room in a flash of light and a shower of blood red sparkles. Popping up out of his hiding spot, Strife cocked back his arm, took aim and then let fly with the acorn. Godly reflexes combined with arrogance caused Ares to reach out and snag the acorn out of thin air as it rushed towards him. He held it tightly in one fist and arched one eyebrow up in amused confusion.

"What are you doing with..." Ares broke off his question when he suddenly yawned. Strife merely smirked.

Reaching up with his other hand to rub at suddenly tired eyes, Ares tried to scowl at him, but he just yawned again. Strife's smirk grew even wider as he watched the effects of Hypnos' spell settle over his uncle. Slowly, he stepped out of the shadows and walked over to him, but not too close. Even half asleep, Ares could do massive damage.

For long moments, Ares struggled against the sleep spell. He stumbled over to his throne and leaned against it for balance. Muttering a few nasty comments about his nephew, he dropped the acorn and his knees wobbled as another yawn erupted from him. Strife simply stood back and softly crooned another lewd song; this one about three lonely princesses, a goat, a harpy and a farmer armed with an ox jaw. Finally, just as he reached the last and most crude verse, Strife watched Ares sink down to the floor in a crumpled heap and begin snoring loud enough to wake the dead.

Strife paused for a moment to consider that last thought. All he could conclude was that if Ares' snores really *did* wake the dead, then great-uncle Hades would be pissed.

Shaking himself out of his reverie, Strife walked over to Ares, knelt down on the floor next to him and gathered his uncle into his arms gently. Closing his pale blue eyes in concentration, Strife transported them both to the room he had set up beforehand in order to complete his mission. In a flash of light and a flurry of blue sparkles, they were there.

It was a little used storage room that Strife had hastily cleaned out for this occasion. The chair that Cupid had created so that his aunt Dite could wash the bleach out of his hair that first time was set up right in the middle of the room. To the side was a small table that held all of Strife's tools; a jar of hair bleach, a fine-toothed comb, his leather gloves, a bowl of soapy water, some towels and a pair of silver scissors. Under the table was a pile of Hephaistos made metal chains that he had stolen...er, borrowed, from his mom.

Huffing and straining, Strife had to physically manhandle Ares' larger body into the chair. Once there, he took the time to try and make his uncle as comfortable as possible and then lined his head up to the correct position on the neck holder. Then, with a slightly naughty smirk, he chained Ares to the chair so he couldn't wake up and get away before Strife was finished.

Finally, Strife was ready to begin. Pulling on the tight leather gloves, Strife grabbed up the jar of hair bleach. Twisting it open, he was once more assaulted by the strong stench. Blinking rapidly, he reached for the comb and began. It wasn't as easy as he had thought it would be. Even though Ares was still asleep and didn't move a muscle, he had to work carefully to only bleach the ends of his hair and not the roots...with a few minor streaky exceptions.

Also, Strife didn't leave the bleach on for as long as he kept it on his own hair. Not that he didn't think Ares would look great with pale white-blonde hair, it was more of a time-limit on the sleep spell thing. It was only a few renditions of the Trojan Battle Hymn before he was using the bowl of warm soapy water to wash the mixture out of the War God's raven black hair. Once he had all of the bleach out of his uncle's hair, Strife picked up a towel and pseudo dried the long silky locks. It was then that he realized that the bleach had only been on Ares' hair long enough to turn the jet black to a soft golden honey color, not the stark paleness of his own. Strife grinned at the effect.

Then picking up the scissors and the comb, Strife began to trim the long curly locks into a more military cut. The sides and back were shorn tight to Ares' head, but the top he left quite a bit longer. Calling some of his aunt Dite's styling gel to him, he applied a bit to his uncle's hair and then set up a warm breeze to blow on it to dry it. Two inch tufts of hair stood up in spiky profusion, their soft tips a golden honey over deep rich chocolate.

A manic grin stretching his face, Strife banished all of his tools to his favorite hiding place and then unchained his uncle. Grabbing him up into his arms once more, he transported them both back to the main audience chamber. Pocketing the acorn, Strife carefully maneuvered Ares' onto his throne. He spent a moment to arrange his uncle's limbs and then with one final smirk, he disappeared in a shower of blue sparkles.

****

Strife stood on a far hill next to his best friend and terminally sexy cousin Cupid as they watched the members of the House of War and the House of Death antagonize two large groups of mortals into slaughtering each other. Normally he'd be out there with them to partake in a bit of bloodshed and mayhem, but this was his day with the House of Love. And it was *that* reason that he was here anyway.

"Strife...dude, you're my cousin, my *best* friend in like...*ever*, but this is a stupid idea. Dad's gonna kill you. Then he's gonna kill me. I'm too pretty to die an ugly death, man."

Strife merely shook his head and frowned. "No...it's gonna work. See, the blonde was supposed to make him happy, but I guess I really didn't leave the bleach on long enough because all he got was pissed off. But love?...Love will fix him up right."

Cupid's face eloquently expressed his opinion about that, so Strife rushed on before he could object. Pointing at a slim man bumbling along behind Ares' half-mortal daughter Xena, he said. "See that guy? That's Joxer. He's a bit on the clumsy side, but he's got a fairly good head for strategy and no sense of personal safety. He's also nuts about Ares."

Cupid shrugged. "So what?"

Strife huffed at him in exasperation. "So...I hit Unc with a touch of obsession and they disappear for a few days and make like rabbits. Then when Xena comes banging on the door to get her little friend back, Ares' will get all the fun outta thwarting her just like she's always done to him. I know that the big guy will enjoy turning the tables on her and from what I hear, Joxie there is one Tartarus of a great lay."

Cupid scrunched up his face in concentration. "I don't know Strife..."

Strife just bounced in place, excitement pouring from his maniacally shinning blue eyes. "Aw, come on Cupie. You know it's a great idea. It'll work perfect. *Trust me*."

With that he began to make his way onto the battlefield. Cupid stood up on the hill shaking his head and muttering, "Trust me?...those are some famous last words there, buddy.", but Strife ignored him. Soon, chaos was swirling around him and his skin fairly tingled with the energy of mayhem that the battle was generating, but he pushed that to one corner of his mind as he focused on his task. Winding through mortals and various dark gods, Strife soon had the volatile God of War within range. Pulling out his dagger enchanted with an 'obsessive love' spell, he hefted it once, twice and then let it fly at his uncle when Ares was staring directly into Joxer's startled brown eyes.

Out of nowhere, Bia; God of Mindless Violence danced in between Ares and Joxer, his swirling multicolored eyes spinning madly and his long lanky limbs flailing about. Thunk! Strife's enchanted dagger imbedded itself in the middle of Ares' back, right between the shoulder blades. His midnight black eyes widened in shock and then a dangerous leer spread across his lush full lips. Reaching out with one inhumanly strong arm, Ares pulled Bia in tight to him even as Strife's dagger dissolved out of his back and rematerialized in the Mischief God's sheath. Then, to the stunned amazement of all, the God of War kidnapped the God of Violence as they both shimmered away from the battle.

Horror and panic washing over him in chilling waves, Strife turned around to see the God of Love wavering between amused smugness and unrelenting terror. "I *told* you so, Strife! It was a bad, bad idea." Strife's only reply was to point a shaking finger at the mortal called Joxer and to let loose with a high pitched, frightened squeak.



TITLE: Blonde Obsession
SERIES: The Blonde Series; Blonde Ambition [1], Gentle Blonde Persuasion [2], Attack of the Blondes [3], A Blonde Moment [4], Domesticated Blonde [5], Blonde Fascination [6].
AUTHOR: Scorpio [scorpiofic@aol.com]
ARCHIVE: Yes; if you have the first six in this series.
FANDOM: Xena: Warrior Princess
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: Everything "Xena" belongs to Ren Pics and Flat Earth Prod. I intend no copyright infringements and make no money from this.
SUMMARY: The Blonde Series - part 7. The "obsessive love" spell that Strife cast on Ares has gone awry. Now it's up to Cupid to try and help fix things, however, there are unforeseen complications.



Blonde Obsession
by Scorpio


Cupid watched, mildly started, as his cousin Strife suddenly went pale and cringed back. He was just about to ask what was wrong when he heard his father's voice. "Come on Bia, you *know* I like your knives. I *adore* them...and you." At least, he thought it was his father. He had never heard Ares whine before, but that was definitely a whiny tone of voice that was carrying across the courtyard that he and Strife were sitting in.

With a sort of horrified fascination, Cupid turned to look behind him and watched as his terminally "top dog" bully of a father trailed behind the dancing and spinning God of Mindless Violence with a look of helpless adoration on his face. Cupid had *never* seen Ares beg for anyone's attention before. He either ignored you completely or made himself so offensive that you *could't* ignore him.

Unfortunately, he and Strife weren't the only ones to witness this humiliating display of a one-sided obsessive love. There were several other Gods and Goddesses enjoying the afternoon sunshine in the courtyard and they were all staring with rapt eyes even as they silently giggled and snickered up their sleeves.

A low pitched, despair filled moan coming from behind him had Cupid turning back to face Strife. His crazy cousin's normally maniacally smiling face was filled with a sort of hopeless dread. "When Unc' Ares gets his mind unscrambled an' realizes what's been going on, I am *so* dead. I will be Strife, the divine stain on the floor." Then Strife tilted his fluffy blonde head to the side as an oddly thoughtful look crossed his face. "I wonder if he'll keep my eyeballs as a trophy or something? He could, I don't know, have 'em floating in a jar of liquid on his desk an' use 'em as a paperweight."

Cupid blanched at that thought. The idea of *anyone's* eyeballs being kept in a jar by his father was bad enough, but the thought of *Strife's* eyeballs floating in liquid made that threat seem a hundred times worse. Cupid *liked* Strife's eyes. They were a lovely pale blue and they crinkled up in the corners when he laughed or smiled real big. It would be a shame to destroy them.

"Um...maybe we can fix this?"

Strife just raised up one eyebrow at him in doubt, but Cupid was determined to do something to fix this. It was Strife's fault, but he didn't want his cousin to take the brunt of Ares' anger over it. He wasn't really ready to examine the reasons *why* he was so worried about the insane younger God, he was simply content to accept that he *was* and leave it at that. Cupid was sure that if there was some sort of happy resolution to this mess, than Ares would be more lenient with Strife.

"No. No, we can fix this. I'm sure of it." He tried to put as much confidence in his voice as possible even though he had no idea if the situation could be salvaged. "We just...we just need a plan."

Oddly enough, that seemed to work. Strife loved plans. He loved to come up with them, he loved to execute them and he loved to mess them up...at least, when they were someone else's. With a slow nod of his head, Strife stood up and began to pace back and forth in front of the marble bench that Cupid was sitting on. A slight frown made his full lips look a bit pouty and for half a minute, Cupid was distracted by thoughts of nibbling on that lush bottom lip, but then Strife began to speak and he forced himself to pay attention.

"Okay, this whole Bia thing is bad. I mean, I could always hit Bia with an Obsession Spell, but I don't think that would help too much. Don't get me wrong, I *like* Bia. He's a riot and a half on the battlefield and a mean poker player." Strife turned sparkling blue eyes on Cupid. "That guy can bluff like no one's business. He can have the worst hand in the world and you'd never know it to look at his face. Bia will grin and giggle at anything..."

Cupid couldn't help it, he flashed a quirky lopsided smile at Strife. His cousin smiled back and then abruptly returned to pacing.

"No. The main problem with Bia is that he's not right in the head." Cupid bit back a chortle. Strife tended to comment on his relative's mental health and the irony was lost on him every time. "He could never give Unc' what he truly needs. That's why I choose Joxer. The guy already adores Ares an' he would do anything for him. Plus, Jox doesn't let fear stop him from doing what he wants. Ares could blow the biggest hissy-fit ever an' the guy would just wait for him to calm down an' then come back for more. Most mortals would be screaming for the hills an' ya'd never see 'em again."

Cupid thought about that for a long moment. At first, he had been dubious about Strife's choice for his father. The only thing that he'd known about Joxer was what he'd heard from his mother. She liked to mess with him because he always forgave her and never made a big stink out of it. However, after Strife announced that he thought Joxer would make a perfect bed-toy for Ares, he had decided to check up on the little mortal. Cupid had to admit, Joxer was a good choice for Ares. He might not be able to walk in a straight line when on his feet, but he was graceful in the water and killer in bed. Plus, he really did seem to know his stuff when it came to wars and battles. Cupid had the sneaking suspicion that his uncelebrated talent for strategy was the real reason that Xena went to such lengths to keep him healthy and tagging along with her.

"What if we merely shifted the focus of Ares' obsession?"

Strife blinked and abruptly stopped pacing. His fluffy blonde head whipped around so that he could stare at Cupid intently. Suddenly, Cupid knew what Strife's enemies felt when they were confronted by the Mischief God on the battlefield and he felt a huge wellspring of pity for those doomed mortals. When Strife totally focused on a person, his pale blue eyes were almost hypnotic in their intensity. They seemed to draw you in and refused to let you go. If that wasn't frightening enough, it was what you saw when you looked into them that speared your mind with ice. Behind Strife's eyes there was great intelligence, an iron will, centuries of knowledge, the desire to create chaos and a disturbing lack of sanity. Cupid's mouth went dry and heat pooled in his groin even as a chill ran down his spine and goosebumps broke out along his arms. He wasn't sure if he liked the odd mixture of fear and arousal even if it was profound.

"Um...Strife?"

He was so glad that his voice didn't come out as a squeak that he was willing to ignore the slight wavery sound of it. That seemed to be enough to break the intensity of the moment, for Strife blinked and then shook himself like a dog coming out of a lake. Then, he walked over and flopped next to Cupid on the bench.

"Cupe. How do we do something like that? I've never..." Strife's face seemed to crumple up into a cross between a pout and the verge of tears. "Most of the spells I know effect things, not people. You know, move this here, move that there. That sort of thing. With people, I either inspire them to do mischief or mayhem. I've never had reason to remove those things." Strife shrugged. "Once they do whatever it is that would qualify as mischief or mayhem, the spell wears off."

He seemed to slid down into a funk, but then he perked up a bit. "Oh, I also am pretty good at whispering in people's ears and making them think that my voice is their own inner thoughts." The frown came back and was bigger than before. "But that works on mortals only. I can't do that with a God." Cupid watched his cousin sigh in dejection and wanted to reach out to him. "Even with the love spells that I've been learning, I've never had to remove one or change it. I don't even know where to begin with something like that."

Finally giving in to the urge to comfort the Mischief God, Cupid wrapped one muscled arm around Strife's shoulders. Almost absently, his fingers began to trace the design of the tattoo running around his cousin's arm.

"It's not that hard, really. I've had to remove plenty of love spells that have gone wrong. It just takes practice." Strife turned his head and looked up at him with big blue eyes full of sadness and Cupid melted. "Don't worry. We'll go back to Mom's workroom and study the spell on the dagger that you used. If there is a way to shift the focus of the spell or to remove it completely, we'll find it."

Strife nodded his head morosely and leaned into Cupid's embrace. It felt wonderful to have his cousin there, but Cupid refused to think about why. Instead, he focused on the situation that they had found themselves in. "Come on, let's go." And then they were gone in a flurry of blue and gold sparkles.

*****

Cupid lounged belly down on his bed while polishing his bow. He and Strife had finally figured out how to remove the obsessive love spell or change it's focus, but they had to wait for the perfect time to do it. Ares was never around anymore. He was either rushing through his duties or he was locked up in some bedroom with Bia.

So, it was several days later and Strife was working with his mother in the mortal realm since it was one of his days with the House of War. The twins were having a story hour with the Muses. Cupid frowned slightly at that thought. Clio had always been very shy, but lately she had become more and more involved with their family. Cupid had a sneaking suspicion that the soft spoken Muse was having an affair with his Aunt Eris, but he wasn't positive about that. And wasn't that enough to blow anyone's mind? Still, Clio was wonderful with the twins and they loved going to listen to her tell them stories.

His Mom was overseeing the last minute details in preparation for the first orgy she was throwing in Strife's name. It was her idea of a perfect "Welcome to the House of Love" event and Cupid was sure that Strife would be thrilled. However, the idea of spending the night at an orgy with his crazy and adorable bleached blonde cousin made him sort of nervous...and just a wee bit jealous. But he didn't want to think about that.

So, it was just him here at the Temple of Love. Over in the corner of his room, he had a set up a floating mirror to continuously watch the main throne room of the Halls of War. It was set to alert him when Ares arrived. At the moment, he was out on business. As near as Cupid could tell, he was currently in a meeting with Hera.

Cupid finished cleaning his bow and began to oil the harness that held it in place when the mirror he had enchanted began to glow with a soft golden light even as the cascading sound of harps and the shimmering tones of bells began to sing in the air. With a feral grin that he had learned from his cousin, Cupid looked up at the mirror only to see his father appear in a flash of light and a shower of red sparks. Not even bothering to wait, Cupid grabbed up his weapon and disappeared. Only a rain of golden glitter and rose petals marked the spot where he had been.

*****

Cupid had just barely materialized in his father's Temple when he was attacked. Dark eyes wide with panic, Ares clutched at both of his arms with desperation and babbled at the top of his lungs right in Cupid's face. Cupid was just pathetically grateful that he didn't wet himself.

"Cupid! Thank all the Gods that you're here. You're *just* the person I need to see. You have *got* to help me out. I have no idea what to do. Hera just told me that I'm pregnant! PREGNANT!" This last word was emphasized by Ares giving Cupid a teeth rattling shake. "I *can't* be pregnant! I mean, what if Bia doesn't want kids? What if this means that he no longer wants me? What if we have to give up having sex?" Ares' normally bronze skin paled dangerously at that last thought. "I don't think I can give up sex with Bia, Cupid. It's...it's wild. And...and messy. Bloody and painful and intense. It's...it's..."

Cupid opened up his mouth before his brain had a chance to sensor himself. "It's sick and twisted?" He heard what he'd just said and cringed, waiting for the blast that would remove his beautiful white wings from his back.

Instead of mind rending pain, Cupid was faced with a maniacally grinning father who was nodding his head in enthusiasm. "Yes! Exactly!" Then Ares' smile melted into despair once more. "But how in Tartarus can I let Bia tie me down and poke me with sharp bits of metal if I'm *pregnant*?" The amount of scorn that Ares could get into the word pregnant was impressive. Cupid chose to focus on that instead of the mental image that had popped into his head when Ares mentioned being tied down by Bia. There were some things that a child was never meant to know about their parents, after all.

Ares didn't seem to notice Cupid's distraction or minor moral dilemma. With shocking speed, he let go of Cupid's arms and whirled around in order to start pacing in front of his throne. Cupid wobbled slightly, but managed to keep his balance. He watched his father for a moment and wondered if the pacing thing was something that all members of the House of War did. It was something that Strife did a lot, too. Then, with growing horror, Cupid began to realize what Ares was saying.

"...don't think that she'd be willing to surrogate. Eris had a very difficult pregnancy with Strife and she most likely wouldn't be willing to go through that again. And your mother? Forget it. She's so pissed at me now that she'd never agree. Athena?" Ares snorted at the very idea. "No. She'd just laugh and give me a lecture about how she's too good to do that for the House of War in general and me in particular."

Ares stopped for a moment as a thoughtful look crossed his face. "Mania? She *is* Bia's twin. Then again, I don't know if we could even make her understand what a surrogate is. Lovely girl, but she has no mind to speak of." Ares shook his head and began to pace again. "Maybe one of the guys?"

Cupid was on the brink of suggesting Strife or even offering to do it himself since the child would be his sibling, when Ares' obsession sent his mind spinning in a whole new and terrifying direction. With a fanatical expression on his face, Ares swirled around and stared at Cupid.

"I know! I can just get rid of it! I don't *have* to go through with this pregnancy and I'm sure that no one would be willing to do it for me. Then I don't have to worry about Bia leaving me over it. Simple, right?"

Cupid looked back in horrified shock. The very idea that his father would destroy his unborn sibling was something that Cupid refused to entertain, Ares' mind clouded by obsession or not. He was also slightly disturbed that Ares was so sure that no one would be willing to help that he didn't even bother to ask, he just assumed. So it was, that when Ares raised up one hand and gathered his power together that Cupid panicked.

Not even stopping to consider any other options, just terrified for the life of the unborn child resting under his father's heart, Cupid snapped up both arms and aimed his bow at Ares. The specially bespelled arrow was already waiting in it. It only took a simple squeeze of a single finger and then that arrow was flying through the air and slamming into Ares' chest. The God of War jerked back and then sprawled across his throne in a tumble. Cupid spread his wings and flew across the room until he was hovering over his dazed father.

"You no longer love Bia, Ares." His voice was a soft whisper with undercurrents of power running through it. "All the love you feel is for your unborn child. Protect it, love it, devote yourself to it's happiness and well-being."

Dazed and loopy from the effects of Strife's spell being broken away from Bia and being resettled on a new focus, Ares' voice was a harsh rough croak. "...the child..."

Cupid smiled. "Yes, Ares. The child. Love the child."

Then, in a flash of muted light and a shower of golden sparkles, Cupid returned to his own bedroom in the Temple of Love. With a squeak of repressed nerves, he flopped down on his bed and had a minor nervous breakdown. What had he done? With a slightly shaky gasp for air, he wondered if things were better now...or if they were worse.



TITLE: Prenatal Blonde
SERIES: The Blonde Series; Blonde Ambition [1], Gentle Blonde Persuasion [2], Attack of the Blondes [3], A Blonde Moment [4], Domesticated Blonde [5], Blonde Fascination [6], Blonde Obsession [7].
AUTHOR: Scorpio [scorpiofic@aol.com]
ARCHIVE: Yes; if you have the first seven in this series.
FANDOM: Xena: Warrior Princess
RATING: PG-13 (for mpreg)
DISCLAIMER: Everything "Xena" belongs to Ren Pics and Flat Earth Prod. I intend no copyright infringements and make no money from this.
SUMMARY: The Blonde Series - part 8. Ares gives birth to Bia's child.



Prenatal Blonde
by Scorpio


Ares pulled down another one of the swords that were normally displayed on the wall in his throne room and waddled over to the table he had set up with cleaning rags and polish. He had already extended his power throughout the entire Halls of War four times in order to straighten up clutter, banish dirt, dust and mildew, as well as to freshen the air. It just didn't seem clean enough, so now he was hand polishing all the metal. It was oddly relaxing and soothing to his jangling nerves.

Lowering his heavy bulk into the chair, he took a moment to arrange himself so that his back was supported and he could reach everything easily. Once satisfied, he took up the sword, the polish and one of the rags and went to work. The best part of this task was that it kept his hands busy and left his mind free to wander.

And there was a lot of topics that his mind wished to wander to. For one, how did he get into this situation? Okay, yes...technically he was in this situation, the situation being extremely pregnant and ready to give birth at any moment, because he had let Bia top him in bed and didn't take any *ahem* precautions. But that right there was the weird thing. Why had he done that?

Not that Ares had anything against Bia. He was a fun guy and a great asset during battles, riots and family gatherings. Even still, he really wasn't Ares' "type". At least, not normally and yet Ares could remember being *wildly* in love with Bia. Then suddenly, he wasn't. Oh, he still liked that guy and had a lot of good memories of great sex, but it was as if the 'shiny' had worn off of their relationship and it didn't seem as important that Ares continue to woo and bed the other God.

Actually, Ares had a feeling that Strife had something to do with this whole mess, but he wasn't sure. The nearest that he could figure was that Strife must have been playing around with a lust spell and that he and Bia somehow got caught up in it. He didn't really mind since he'd had fun and it *did* get him the baby. Ares ran his hand over his swollen stomach gently at that thought. However, that would not only explain his sudden and brief fling with Bia, but it would also explain why Strife seemed to be so guilty around Ares.

His bleached blonde nephew seemed to flip-flop between trying to hide from Ares and trying to cater to his every pregnancy induced whim. And unlike Dite who obviously doubted his ability to raise a child, Strife tended to defend him like a rabid pitbull to those that found this situation funny. For example, about two months ago, Ares had overheard Artemis giggling about his expanding waistline and growing lack of grace. Before Ares had the chance to do something nasty to her, Strife had stepped in and materialized a list from nowhere and plucked a quill out of the air. Then, he had carefully and calmly written her name up at the top of a list of names and cheerfully informed her that she was now the 'designated baby-sitter' of Ares and Bia's soon-to-be-born child.

"Just picture it Aunty Artie," the blonde godling had said, "the child of War and Mindless Violence...as a toddler run amok...being dropped off in *your* temple while Ares goes down to the Mortal Realm to relax by slaughtering a few hundred villagers."

Artemis had gone pale at the thought, Strife had just gazed at her with sincerity and a frightening lack of sanity and Ares had almost pulled a muscle trying to hold in both laughter and a full bladder. Now that he thought about it, the pregnancy jokes had died off rather quickly once it became known that teasing Ares was the fastest way to get on Strife's 'list of baby-sitters'.

Strife was also resilient. A few days back, Eris had taken one look at Ares' sudden need to clean the Halls of War from top to bottom, blanched and muttered, "Oh shit. He's nesting," and then fled. His family had taken their cue from the Goddess of Discord and all of them suddenly remembered a lot of important things to do that couldn't be put off another second. But Strife had stayed and helped him to clean by taking down all of the various tapestries and war banners and having them washed, dried and ironed before rehanging them again.

Of course, today his nephew was over at Dite's place and basking in her mushy lovey-dovey influence. Ares couldn't see how that was healthy for the lad, but Strife seemed to like it. And as a bonus, Cupid seemed to hang around the Halls of War more often when he came looking for Strife. Still, it would have been nice to....

Ares' thoughts came to a sudden and jarring halt when a sharp flutter of movement rippled across his stomach. It was accompanied by a tight, hot, clenching sensation that started at the base of his spine and wrapped around his swollen belly to leave him doubled over and gasping for air.

"ow...that hurt"

Soon enough, the pain receded and the clenching feeling loosened to the point where Ares was able to straighten up in his chair again. Calmly, he placed the sword that he had been polishing back on the table and dropped the rag. Slowly, Ares' grabbed onto the table's edge with one hand and the chair's arm with the other. Then, using great effort, some pulling, some pushing and a small burst of his power, Ares' levered himself up out of the chair and into a standing position. He managed to waddle several feet away before that odd fluttery sensation hit again. Once more, it was followed by that mobile rippling hot pain as his body clenched down around his pregnant belly.

He gasped and wheezed for a long moment until it passed and then calmly continued to waddle away. To be honest, he had no idea what was happening. He had vague thoughts of gas pain and vowed to never eat Mexican food again, no matter how much Eris praised the spicy stuff. Not that it *didn't* taste good, it did, but it also bit back.

Ares had made it all the way to the bathroom and was halfway through washing the polish off of his hands when another wave of sensation hit him. This time it was quite a bit worse. The clenching was stronger and far more painful and the rippling sensation of tight hot muscle went on and on. Then, in the midst of all of that, a sudden pressure burst open deep inside of him and then warm water poured out of his body to splash onto the floor under him. For one insane denial laden moment, Ares was embarrassed to have wet himself. Then it hit him like a hammer to the forehead. His water had just broken. The baby was coming.

Instantly, panic replaced the calm that he had been working under for the past week or so. Tipping his head back, his dark eyes wide and wild, Ares screamed for his mommy.

*****

"One more, Ares. Just one more good push and she'll be here."

In agony, exhausted and more than willing to agree to *anything* just so that it would all be over, Ares gritted his teeth, groaned deep in his chest and bore down with all of his strength. Pain, heat and pressure resisted his efforts for a long moment, but then suddenly the pressure gave way and he could feel his child slide out of his body in a gush of fluids. The relief was both immense and immediate. Not even the best orgasm in the world could feel better than the fact that she was finally *out* of him. Now, all he wanted to do was pass out and sleep for about ten years.

*smack*

"Waaaaaaa!"

Then again, staying awake had it's distinct advantages. Ares forced open one eye and watched as his mother bustled his newborn daughter over to the side table that she had set up earlier. Working with quick efficiency, Hera cleaned her, weighed her and wrapped her in a soft receiving blanket. Then, she walked over with an oddly soft expression on her face and gently rested the infant into Ares' arms.

Ares looked down at his daughter and smiled tiredly. Her eyes were the normal glossy and unfocused blue of all newborns, but all ready they were beginning to darken. Ares figured that within an hour or two that they would become the same dark brown as his own. Her hair was a fluff of black on the top of her head and it stuck straight up the same way that Strife's did. She had Bia's long lean fingers and toes and Ares' eyes and nose. Beyond that she was pink and wrinkled and tiny and just about perfect.

"What are you going to name her?"

Ares looked up and offered a teary eyed and woozy smile at his mother.

"I'm going to call her Enyo."


THE END

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