Part 1
Title: Champion Made
Author: Werewindle
Email: Werewindle@otakumail.com
Rating: PG
Fandom: Xena/Hercules
Pairing: mention of A/J
Disclaimer: I don't own Joxer, Ares belongs to himself, the rest
is mine.
Warning: small little bit of blood, like a paper cut ... only
bigger
Summery: the making of a champion
Status: WIP
Series: don't think so ...
Archive: AJCS, anywhere else just ask.
Website: My other works are at
http://www.fanfiction.net/profile.php?userid=55268
Notes: Thanks to my Beta Grayswandir
Long ago when the Greek Pantheon was at the height of its power and
before it became the Roman Pantheon, a young man pledged himself to
Ares God of War...
He was not a large man, rather, he was lithe and long limbed. He
possessed a grace and economy of movement not seen in many of his
age. His hair was long and black and his eyes, dark as night,
flashed fire and ice.
It was not his looks that caught the god's attention; while he
was
handsome, his features were too harsh to be called truly beautiful.
It was not his lack of warrior's build for he was young and quick
with the body of an assassin.
No. It was the way he pledged. He offered no weaponry nor did he
sacrifice an animal. Taking a dagger and slicing his palm, he
offered his own blood, his life, his very soul, in service to Ares.
He pledged so sincerely, opening his heart, laying bare all his
secrets, holding nothing back from his god. War looked into his soul
and saw loyalty and bravery, no signs of malice or ill intent and
underneath it all a great capacity for love.
The young man compelled Ares, and so he decided to return the vow,
something that he had done only once before in all his centuries.
The last man to invoke the ancient ritual had become his consort;
this man would become one of his immortals, and the rewards no less
great. All that was left was to appear before the man and finish the
binding.
"Do you know the power of your pledge? Will you be willing to
carry
out any command no matter the nature? Even if it means several
lifetimes of pain and toil, of loneliness? Your soul will never
reside in the Elysian Fields nor Tartarus, but will belong to
me."
The raven-haired boy looked War in the eyes. He did not flinch or
show fear when the storm clouds in the god's eyes cleared to show
the true essence of war, only wonder at facing his god. The boy
knelled and repeated his vow.
" With my blood I pledge my life and my soul to Ares God of War
for
all eternity."
Ares took the dagger from the altar and cut his palm to match the
boy's. Sealing their hands together, their blood mingled, Ares
made
his own promise.
"I accept your pledge and give my protection in return, for all
eternity."
A flash of power finished the ritual and healed the cuts leaving
only a thin sliver scar.
"Rise, Ashval, and take your place as my champion."
And so, it began ...
tbc