The Retired Priestess/H1>

By Briar

This story is dedicated to my mother, Avis, who is now deceased.

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Ares, God of War, from Xena:Warrior Princess. I am simply borrowing him for the length of this story, and will return him intact at the end. This story was written mostly to answer a question I had asked myself. What happens to old Priestesses? This is one possible answer to the question, I'm sure there are many more. The character of Ahtay is mine, please do not use her without my permission.

She had once been young and beautiful. The favored of Ares. Now she was old. Not even the son she had borne to him had helped her retain his favor. His visits, which had been constant, dwindled slowly until they simply ended. The son was working in one of his father's temples. He was a scribe, recording vows, offerings, and other matters to do with the temple. He had never shown any powers, had not been athletically inclined, hated weapons, and had been altogether a disappointment to his father. At least he had shown some value. He loved reading and writing, was good with figures, and was very responsible. If she hadn't known better, she'd have thought another had fathered him. There was no chance of that. She had gone to the temple as a virgin, and had remained there throughout her childbearing years. Ares would certainly have known if she had ever played him false. There was absolutely no way of hiding anything from him inside his own temple. Favored priestesses were restricted to the temple, the gardens, or the practice yard. All were within his sphere of influence.

When the physician had established that she was truly beyond childbearing years, she had been allowed to retire to one of the cottages on the outskirts of the temple woods. Here she had grown a garden, raised chickens, and otherwise kept herself busy. She had sewn for the temple, and helped train some of the younger priestesses in the arts of warfare. She was still of some use, although her joints were now starting to make things difficult for her. First thing in the morning, she was stiff and sore. but after she went through some stretching and sword exercises she was fine. The laugh lines around her eyes and mouth had deepened into wrinkles. The lovely chestnut hair Ares had loved to stroke now had silver wings at each temple. She had somehow managed to retain her figure, even after childbirth, and her body looked younger than her years.

She had been picking apples this morning, and after several hours of work, had taken a bad fall. The excruciating pain in her back told her that something was seriously wrong. She couldn't get up. She called for help several times. Her cottage was the farthest from the temple, and apparently no one was within hearing range of her present position. She began to drag herself towards the house. The pain was almost unbearable. She whispered "Oh Ares, I'm in serious trouble, I need you!" At first there was no reply, and she resignedly continued her way to the cottage. She was no longer his favored, who did she think she was kidding. He didn't care, why should he. She was only an old woman who was no longer of any importance to anyone. Tears streamed down her face as she remembered her years in the temple.

She had been second only to Ares. If something needed doing, she gave an order, and it was done. There were no questions, no excuses, just performance. If something came up that she couldn't handle, she had only to call, and Ares was there. He would deal with whatever had come up, and then would *deal* with her later. She loved every moment of it, and spent most nights in his quarters, rather than her own. The change had been insidious, a night here or there where he was busy elsewhere. As the years went by, he spent more and more time at his other temples, until she was finally relegated to tertiary importance. She had soon been replaced with a new favored. From that time on, she had been one of those wno followed orders, rather than gave them. Then she retired.

Now she was no longer of any importance whatsoever. A reject, with no one to care for her, or aid her. She was fast losing strength. It was a long way to the house, and she wasn't going to make it. Suddenly there was a flash of light, and Ares was there. He quickly knelt down and examined her. He slowly shook his head, "It's broken." he said. She had been rather certain of that for a while now. It didn't come as any shock. The shock was that Ares had come. "You came! you actually came. I called and called, but no one could hear me. Finally I whispered your name. I didn't actually expect you to hear me." He lovingly looked down at her. "Of course I came, you're my favored aren't you?" "Not for lo these many years now, I haven't been." she replied. "Just because I don't bed you any more doesn't mean I don't care. I've still kept an eye on you, and if you had really needed me I would have come." Was his quiet rejoinder. "Is there anything you can do? Or is it hopelessly damaged?" she asked anxiously. "I'm afraid it's something I can't heal. The nerve is severed. " he replied sadly. "Then will you hold me? I probably don't have much time, do I?" He sat on the grass beside her, gently gathered her up into his warm embrace, and held her in his arms. He stroked his hand over the injured area. Her body relaxed suddenly, finally released from the pain. He continued to hold her like that, gently stroking her hair, until she was very near death, Then he lifted her close to his body and kissed her gently on the mouth. Her eyes opened, and she lovingly looked into his eyes one last time. She was no longer capable of speach, but her eyes were eloquent. They clearly said "I love you.". He kissed her several times, and was still kissing her as she took her final breath.

He got to his feet, gathered her into his arms, and returned to the temple. He personally made all the arrangements for her funeral, and created an ornate stone sarcophagus. She was dressed in the formal robes of a favored priestess. For several days she was laid out in the temple, her body lying in splendor. Many came to honor her memory. She had done much for this temple during her years in authority, and was remembered fondly. Finally she was buried in a place of honor in her favorite temple garden. The white memorial stone had her name, Ahtay, and Favored of Ares engraved upon it's face. A lovely red rose bush was planted on each side of the grave, and a low stone wall encircled the area. There was a white stone bench facing the site. From time to time over many years, Ares could be found seated there in silent contemplation. Why had he left her alone for all those years? Couldn't he have at least taken time to visit, to make conversation? He had enjoyed her companionship, and now wished he had done differently. She had always been there for him, he should have done the same for her. He kept forgetting that mortals didn't have all the time in the world, as he did.

Postscript: What really matters, is how much you have done for others, and how you are seen by those others. Sometimes it takes a tragedy to cause people to realize just what they've lost. It's all too easy to take people for granted. After all, they've always been there when we've needed them, haven't they? This story was written in memory of my mother. She spent her life helping others, often taking in stray children until something could be done for them. Always there with a helping hand, a sympathetic ear, and good advice if you had problems. Anything you told her went no further. It stayed between the two of you. She died of metastasized breast cancer, and she is sorely missed.

The end