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by
Slowly, languidly, the luminescent fog parted to reveal a few details about his location. The full moon drenched the place, reflecting off of the swirling mist and sparkling on the clinging dewdrops, lending to the sense of unreality in this... garden?
Jox looked around as the glowing fog receded a bit more. It was indeed a garden. A dark and overgrown garden filled with unusual plants. Large thorn bushes grew in profusion, their jagged barbs long, sharp and cruel. When he tried to move, those thorns snagged at his clothing and scratched his pale skin. He yelped and pulled back onto the center of the narrow path once more.
Turning to look in the opposite direction, he was faced with a dying tree. It's skeletal branches raked the uncaring sky as a clinging red-green vine slowly choked the life from it. A raven perched on a limb above him cawed. The chilling sound shivered down his spine and sweat broke out across his forehead.
//...wicked garden...//
Jox's head whipped around to stare intently down the path before him. He could have sworn he heard the voice of... but that was impossible. He was dead. Still, he wasn't really sure where here was or how he'd even gotten there, so perhaps?... Jox clamped down on the tiny sliver of hope that had risen within him and decided to find out where he was.
The path was narrow and winding through the tangled and overgrown garden beds. The ground he walked over was crushed black marble and clinging vines seemed to reach out across it to clutch at his ankles and legs. Nightshade and Poison Ivy grew in profusion in amongst the brambles and jagged thorns. A sliver of fear wended its way around his heart and began to squeeze.
Trembling, he forced himself to follow the path, even as the sharp thorns of the bushes tore at his clothes and scratched his skin. He fervently hoped that they were not poisonous to humans.
In a matter of minutes... or was that centuries?... he came to a fork in the path. One fork led to the edge of the garden and the bright sunlight beyond. It promised salvation and hope. The other path led deeper into the dark and the despair at the very heart of the garden. Jox wanted to turn towards the sunlight so badly that he could taste it. He was just about to step onto the lighter path when he heard that voice again.
//...his wicked garden to the ground...//
He couldn't not follow that voice. It was the same voice he had been listening to his entire life. Fighting a conflicting desire to both run away from the garden and to go to the voice at the same time, Jox compromised by walking slowly and carefully into the center of the darkness.
Somehow, it was impossibly worse in this part of the garden. The thorns were thicker and longer and the vines writhed upon the path. A carnivorous plant snatched a giant beetle out of the very air and Jox was certain he could hear the thing cry out in agony.
A breeze picked up along the pathway and the deadened trees creaked and groaned as they swayed alarmingly. Dead leaves, twigs and small pebbles swirled in mini whirlwinds at different points along the path and the putrid scent of decay began to form. Mist and fog grew thicker and more clinging, yet it did little to spread the moonlight this deep in the grove.
The disheartening screech of a large bird grabbed his attention from the thorn bush he was trying to get past and Jox glanced up quickly. There, in the tops of a dead white tree, was the midnight raven once more, its beady black eye trained on him with great interest. A shiver washed over him, leaving his skin a rash of goose bumps.
Pulling away from the dagger-like thorns, Jox moved a ways down the dark and gloomy path until it came to a sudden and sharp bend. Even though he had never been to this place before, Jox somehow knew that the turn in the path lead to the very heart of this... wicked garden. He was certain that he'd find the source of all this... evil.
//...burn his wicked garden to the ground...//
That voice. That much loved and greatly missed voice. He didn't want to... but he had no choice, he had to follow that voice.
Taking his courage in both hands, Jox turned the corner and walked the short distance to the heart of the garden. There, at the end of the path, the garden opened up to form a small area free of plants surrounding what appeared at first to be a black marble birdbath. The moonlight overhead reflected from the mist that swirled freely through this area. Jox could see that there was a man standing at the birdbath in the very center of the garden grove, but the ever changing light and the clinging fog obscured his face.
Hoping against hope that the owner of the voice he had followed was that man in question, Jox stepped off of the path and into the heart of the wicked garden. A horrendous and overwhelming wave of grief and pain slammed into him in a sudden and frightening rush. He swayed on his feet and almost crashed to his knees at the onslaught of emotion. Battling to keep himself together, Jox moved forwards once again.
As he got closer, he still couldn't see the man's face. He could feel his anger and his pain and suffering, but he couldn't identify him. However, he did see the birdbath more clearly. The black marble basin held stagnant and brackish water that was swimming with dead bugs and crumpling leaves. The man was standing beside it, peering into it as if it held the answers to all his questions.
//...burn his wicked garden to the ground...//
Determined to help this grieving and desolate man, Jox listened to the voice that had guided him throughout his life and walked towards the bent figure by the birdbath. He reached out with one pale and trembling hand and touched the strangers shoulder. The stranger turned to face him and they both gasped in surprise. Then Ares, the mad God of War let loose a howl of unutterable anguish and grief before collapsing at Jox's feet.
~~~
Jox sat straight up from a sound sleep and screamed his throat raw.
~~~
It hadn't taken long to convince Xena that he wanted to go off on his own. She was a little worried because of the nightmare he had been suffering every night for the past week or so, but the chance to be alone to try and sort out her own grief for Gabrielle had been too much of a temptation for the Warrior Princess.
Now, here he was, outside the Temple of War, ready to face his nightmare in the flesh. It had taken a little while to figure out the meaning behind his nightmare, but once he did, he felt compelled to go to the War God in person. How Ares himself would feel about that, he didn't know.
Taking a deep breath and settling his helmet more firmly on his head, Jox walked up the few stone steps and pushed open the door. A few torches lighted the Temple and as such, the room was smoky. Trying to control the trembling in his limbs, he walked across the floor of the throne room and placed his hand upon the chill surface of the alter.
"Ares... Can we talk? It's... ah, important."
In a flash of violent red energy and a sudden displacement of air, the God of War appeared on his throne. His dark eyes glittered with anger and his aura washed over Jox as a wave of grief and sorrow. He watched as Ares glanced at him incuriously and then did a classic double take. This time the War God stared at him in annoyed anger and indignation.
"You're Xena's annoying little friend... Um, Joxer right? What in Tartarus do you want?"
Jox swallowed nervously and reminded himself that this was important and it was most likely the last assignment he'd ever receive, so it was imperative that he complete it. It must be dreadfully important if he had been given orders from the underworld, right? Jox cleared his throat and swallowed again, trying to loosen the suddenly tight muscles so that he could speak without squeaking.
"Um... I'm here to talk about... well... about Strife. See, I miss him and I figured that you'd be about the only one who'd... well, understand."
The aura of sadness morphed instantly into anger and indignation. Jox fought the urge to turn tail and run for the hills. Trembling, he watched as the War God sat forward on his throne, a ball of blazing energy slowly forming in his outstretched right hand.
"And just who are you little man, that you think you know the Mischief God well enough to miss him, to wish he was still alive and well? Xena's pulled some low tricks, but this one is below the belt... even for her."
Jox couldn't help it. He snorted in sarcastic amusement.
"Xena didn't send me here to torment you. I came here on my own. The Warrior Princess doesn't know half as much as she thinks she does. I don't belong to her... no matter what she thinks. I belonged to Strife... I always did."
Ares looked startled for a quick moment, but then he covered it with a derisive scowl. The War God waved his left hand in a vaguely dismissive gesture at Jox.
"What... let me guess? You met him once or twice and he gave you a piece of jewelry with either his name or his symbol on it as a sign of his favor? Well... sorry to disappoint, but my nephew did that with a lot of mortals. It meant he liked you... it didn't make you one of his..."
Jox grinned. This was the easy part... well, if he survived it, it would be. Quickly, before he could loose his nerve, Jox began to undress. He pulled the helmet from his head and tossed it to the floor. Then he began to work on the myriad of straps and buckles that held his armor together. This was enough of a shock that the War God didn't blast him on the spot. He didn't want to push his luck, so he tried to talk and possibly explain.
"Yeah... I know all about the jewelry. I don't have any of that stuff. I gave a few pieces out to some people a couple of times, but I myself don't wear any. I don't need it."
Finally, Jox was able to get his shirt off to expose the skin of his chest and arms, leaving him with only his pants and his boots. Taking a deep breath, he turned around to put his bare unprotected back towards the God of War.
"I've got this instead."
He heard the startled gasp and the low murmur of "Strife" pass Ares lips. Then the sound of creaking leather and a few footsteps that drew up behind him. He flinched slightly as a warm fingertip gently began to trace the lines of the intricate tattoo etched permanently into his living flesh.
It was a complicated and oddly delicate background of swirls and angles that fit into a continuous pattern from the base of his neck to the base of his spine. It traveled from one edge of his shoulders to the other. Not an inch of skin was spared. Right in the center, in big bold black lines, was the symbol of Strife, God of Mischief.
It was a tattoo that only the highest-ranking Priests of Strife were allowed to wear. Rumor had it that only those mortals that had divine blood running through their veins could achieve this level, but Strife himself had denied it. And it had been painstakingly etched into Jox's skin by the hands of the Mischief God himself.
"I never knew..."
Jox nodded his head and looked over his shoulder to see the open pain and grief shinning from the War God's dark eyes. He could feel the fingertip begin to trace the thick lines of Strife's symbol and shivered at the light feathery touch.
"You know it's a secret sect. No one is supposed to know..."
He felt more than saw Ares nod his head in silent agreement.
"If you're one of Strife's High Priests... then why do you always follow Xena around? I don't get it. And do your brothers know about this?"
Jox grinned. It was a sneaky grin and it made his eyes sparkle with mischief. He turned to face the still stunned God of War and gently led him over to sit back down on his throne. Then, with his smirk firmly in place, he tried to explain everything.
"Okay. First question. The reason I follow Xena around is because she totally annoys you. See, Strife wanted to do something nice for you, so he sent for me. We talked it over for a bit and then we created Joxer the Mighty. We wrote a silly theme song for him and made the armor and sent him off to irritate and annoy Xena and her friends."
"But *you're* Joxer."
Jox nodded in agreement and giggled.
"Sometimes... yeah. I like him. Joxer's a lot of fun, although it took Strife forever to teach me how to fall down without automatically catching myself. He wanted Joxer to be a bit of a klutz and I just had the worst time making myself fall on my own face!"
Jox laughed at the memories that ran through his mind about the time he'd spent with Strife inventing Joxer the Mighty. He felt a light touch flutter against his mind and then saw a small half smile flicker on Ares lips as he shared a few moments of that time period.
"Second question. Do my brothers know about my service to Strife? No. But that's only because I'm an only child. I don't have any brothers."
Confusion washed over the War God's face, forcing his full bottom lip into a pout. Jox stared at the beguiling sight and forced his eyes and his thoughts away from the arousing expression on Ares handsome face.
"But... Jace and Jett?"
Jox grinned again. His smile was very wicked and he pointed a finger at his own bare chest.
"Me and... me. They're both "parts" I have played for Strife over the years for one reason or another. Jett's by far my most famous persona, but Joxer runs a close second. Strife thought it would be a hoot to have them be "brothers", so that's what Joxer started telling people. Whenever they would get together, for whatever reason, Strife always played the parts that I wasn't doing at the time. That way, people could see us interact and reinforce the idea that we were, in fact, brothers."
Ares gazed down at him with a mix of pride and amusement etched on his darkly handsome face. A half smile twisted his full lips and he snorted in wry amusement.
"Yeah... my nephew was a sneaky little pain in the ass. He loved to be able to get a job done well, but if he could pull a fast one on everyone at the same time? It was icing on the cake. He got such a wild kick out of messing with people... even if they didn't realize that he was doing it."
Jox nodded with enthusiasm.
"Yeah... and he had such a morbid sense of humor too. His jokes were sometimes deadly... but they were always funny. Well... unless you were the punch-line that is..."
Ares chuckled. It was a dark and warm sound that reverberated throughout the stone temple.
"Oh yes. He did pull some good ones, didn't he? Hey! Did Strife ever tell you about the time that he..."
~~~
Jox stood in the beautiful moonlight and glanced up at the shining stars that glittered overhead. He breathed a deep sigh of unutterable relief to be free of the wicked garden at last. Turning slightly, he pulled the ragged and weary God of War around to his side and gently forced the larger hand to unclench from the back of his torn and bloody shirt. The trembling God fell into his arms and buried his grief-ravaged face into the side of his long pale neck.
Jox rubbed Ares leather covered back and made soothing cooing noises into his ear and gently pushed the tangled black curls away from his scratched cheeks.
//...burn his wicked garden to the ground...//
Jox turned to look back at the twisted and gnarled plants that made up the garden grove they had just escaped from. Even now that they were free, it seemed as if the vines and branches tried to reach out and pull them back in. He shivered.
Suddenly, a chill sound screeched, breaking the eerie silence of the night. Jox looked up in time to see the dark winged raven fly overhead. The bird dropped a sparkling stone from its beak and the object tumbled through the air into Jox's outstretched hand. It was a glittering jewel, like likes of which Jox had never seen before. It seemed to pulse with a subtle energy all it's own.
//...burn his wicked garden to the ground...//
Not knowing how he knew what to do, but doing it anyway, Jox turned to face the dark and overgrown garden. He hefted the jewel in his hand once and then threw it with all his might at the evil place of despair. He could hear it crash through the leaves and bang off of a tree trunk before landing with a muffled thump on the ground.
He waited half a moment and then there was a huge explosion that sent violent concussion waves outward. He and Ares clung to each other and shivered as a wave of madness and pain washed over them before dissipating. Then, a giant tongue of flame poured up into the night sky from the very heart of the wicked garden.
Silently, Jox and Ares watched as it burned to the ground.
~~~
Jox woke up from a sound sleep and gasped for air. He looked around startled and disoriented. This was the first time in over a week that he hadn't woken himself up with his own screams. He struggled against a weight that held him down and was beginning to panic when his memories began to sort themselves out. The dream about the garden began to fade away as reality set in once again.
The weight holding him down was not some bizarre dream monster trying to drag him back to the garden grove, it was instead, the arm of the sleeping War God wrapped tightly around his waist. He glanced blurrily around and saw that they were in a darkened bedroom and curled around each other in sleep. Well... one of them was still asleep.
It was hard to see due to the lack of lighting, but Jox wasn't too interested in the decor. He was more interested in how he'd ended up in the War God's bed... with the War God himself. He knew it hadn't been sex. He himself still wore his pants, even if his boots and shirts were missing. And Ares?... well, he was still dressed in his full black leather armor.
Slowly, Jox tried to focus his mind and figure out what had happened to bring them here, to this point. His memories were a bit disjointed and foggy and to top it all off, his head felt thick and his stomach a bit woozy.
He remembered that they had been talking about Strife and all of the misadventures the Mischief God had gotten into. That had been in the main throne room of the temple. He had gotten hungry and so Ares had conjured up a delicious dinner and some... honey wine! Jox knew better than to drink mead, it always made him very open and silly and it loosened his tongue dangerously. Yet, for some reason, probably not wanting to offend Ares, he had drunk a lot of the sweet brew last night.
He had vague memories of breaking into song. He wasn't sure, but he had the sinking feeling that he'd graced, or cursed depending on your point of view, Ares with the naughtier and steamier version of the "missing" verses of Joxer the Mighty's theme song. The version that Gabby and Xena never got to hear.
He also had disjointed recollections of the evening turning maudlin towards the end. They had both been deep in their cups and Strife's wake had taken on a decidedly morbid and sad tone to it. He remembered, with a sharp pain of embarrassment, that his grief and loneliness for his dead God and friend had eventually overwhelmed him. He had begun to cry into his cup.
Surprisingly enough, Ares hadn't blasted him into atoms, instead, he had gathered Jox into his thick strong arms and tried to comfort him. Jox recalled how he had buried his face in the War Gods shoulder and howled out his rage and grief with tears streaming from his eyes. He could even remember the sensation of Ares beginning to tremble as well and the feel of hot tears rolling silently down the side of his neck as they dripped from the grieving God's eyes.
His last true memory of the night before was of falling into a troubled sleep on Ares strong shoulder. The War God must have simply moved them here after he had passed out. And then he had dreamed.
If he understood the meaning of his dream, then the worst of it was over. The both of them could now heal and move on. Jox wasn't sure why they needed each other to do so, but Strife's voice had been insistent, and he couldn't disobey.
Jox looked down at the sleeping God that was clutching him as if he were a lifeline and smiled gently. He raised up one finger to lightly trace those soft kissable lips and had to push down a wave of arousal. There would be time enough for that later. But not now.
Careful not to wake Ares, Jox snuggled back down into his warm embrace and closed his eyes once more. The War God shifted slightly and then pulled him in tight to his chest, but didn't wake. Slowly, Jox's mind began to drift back towards sleep, but before he succumbed once again, he had a vow to make.
"Rest easy Strife. I'll take care of him for you. He won't be lonely any more. I promise..."
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