Mount Olympus. The place where the Gods resided when they were not on the mortal realms. A place of unparalleled beauty and tranquility. Here, the Olympians frolicked with their favored servants -- the spirits of the past Chosen. This was the goal and the hope of every mortal who had been touched by the hand of either Ares, Hades or even Zeus. The air was always sweet, the grass always soft, cool and green.

Dionysus sat under a tree, a golden goblet of wine was at his side as he watched a satyr wooing a nymph, who was clearly interested in the dryad sitting next to the god. He smiled to himself as the satyr deftly wove a garland of flowers, only to watch it being handed to the dryad with shining eyes who set it on Dionysus‘ head. The satyr bleated as he stomped around, showing every ounce of his displeasure. Dionysus chuckled as he flexed his power again. He was the god of wine and madness -- striking mortals was a wonderful past time if his Maenads weren’t up to the task of keeping him entertained. Right now, the satyr’s lust was bordering on frenzy and the nymph couldn’t care less. He sipped his wine, never taking his eyes off of the drama in front of him.

Until a woman’s thigh blocked his view. He followed the leg up to the hem, where it disappeared in a block of forest green cloth. There was only one goddess who wore that shade of green and would have a reason to talk to him today.

“Out of the way, Artemis. I think the satyr is about to br--” he found himself interrupted as a pair of Artemis’ Chosen hauled him to his feet. “Hey -- don’t handle me like that or you’re going to find yourselves in Tarterus serving Ha--”

“The only one who’s going to be in Tarterus will be you!” Artemis’ eyes flashed as he pushed away the Amazons. “What have you done to my Chosen? Now undo it!”

Dionysus rolled his eyes, then stepped aside. “I’ve been playing by the rules. No one poured my wine down her throat unwillingly. No one has abducted her and I haven’t directly worked my powers on her. See? This was done by the rules, unlike our bone-headed brother’s stunts. Maybe next time, you’ll pick your Chosen a little better.” As he craned his head over Artemis’ shoulder, the dryad shrieked and sprinted for the satyr, who was putting his hands where they were most definitely not meant to be. The dryad shoved the satyr over and began to kick him as hard as she could in the shins.

“There goes the evening’s entertainment.” He made a dismissive wave. The small fracas broke up with the three participants shaking their heads in clearing bewilderment. “Sis, if you have a problem, take it up with Dad. Otherwise, go away. I’m about to head down to the temple to bless a gathering.” His conspiratorial wink told the elder goddess more information than she wanted.

“I’m not going to take it up with Zeus. We know you’re the favorite. I’m going to do something else.” Artemis turned around and started walking away. Dionysus frowned as his mind stretched out to calculate every possibility. One possible path leaped into his mind. A choice with very far reaching consequences.

He started to sprint forward, his hands curling into fists. “You wouldn’t dare. Only Ares would be stupid enough to start a war of attrition with the Maenads. They won’t harm their Queen. You’d just be sending your subjects to the arms of Hades.”

“True. Your Maenads are formidable hand-to-hand, but you’re forgetting that I’m the patron goddess of hunters and archers. This won’t be a war of attrition. It will be a slaughter that would give Ares a hard-on. Let Gabrielle go, or watch your followers get mowed down in the woods, the fields and in the cities. In five months time, you’ll be nothing more than a minor household deity.” Artemis’ gaze never wavered.

“You’re bluffing. One of my Maenads can take down a full-grown boar.”

“So can a good Amazon, and they can take out one of yours from half a league away. Call my bluff. Come on -- piss me off.”

Dionysus snarled, “This is war. Kiss your Amazons good-bye.”

There were a pair of bursts on either side of the gods. One burst cleared to reveal a swirl of perfume and silks. The other flashed steel and the creaking of leather was audible as a dark clad male grabbed Dionysus’ hair and tugged it back.

“Let’s get one thing straight. I don’t give a centaur’s hindquarters over what happens to the Amazons, but you start messing with my Chosen, you start messing with me. Now, you might be able to pull that ‘but I’m playing by the rules’ crap with my sister, but I know better. I know you’ve put a hex on Xena. Now take it off, or the Amazons won’t get the chance to kill your wine-whores.” Ares’ lips were close to the younger god’s ear, as if he was whispering a juicy bit of gossip. “Why am I waiting, you lush?”

“Ares, this is getting major ugly. Dio. . . babes. . . just take the mojo off my girls and we can all go back to being happy, shiny beings of ultimate power. Ares -- chill with the snarling. That is soooo undignified.” Aphrodite took a step forward, putting her hand on Ares’ shoulder. Ares let go of Dionysus with a shove into Artemis’ direction. The dark haired woman caught the pin wheeling god and flung him away from the group.

A thunderbolt struck the ground five strides away from the cluster. Out of the blast of power, an older man stepped forward. He was gray in both clothing and beard. It was the gray of a killing winter storm. His gaze was as cold as the winds that blew off of the top of the mountain.

“This is enough.” The voice never came above a conversational tone, but every god present -- even Ares -- lowered their eyes in deference. “Dionysus. You know the laws. You do not directly act against the Chosen. Release the Chosen from your spells immediately.”

“I did not ensnare Gabrielle with spells. She came to Nysa willingly.”

Zeus stepped forward, bringing himself close. “I never spoke of Gabrielle. Do as I bid.” He faded into nothingness, leaving the group in a tense silence. Ares hid a superior smirk behind a hand held up to his mouth. Artemis had no such compunction, her teeth shone like the moon as she turned around and left the group. Aphrodite faded away in a puff of pinkish smoke, leaving Ares and Dionysus alone with each other.

“Xena isn’t your Chosen. She walked away from the role three seasons ago.” Dionysus said, watching Ares’ face for a cue. If he could get him to admit to that fact, then he could get out of freeing Xena and Gabrielle. He had plans for the pair as Maenads, and they were going to be undone.

“Xena never rescinded the title, if that’s what you’re trying to drive at. She just walked away from me. Now, undo the spell.” Ares dissolved into a ball of light, that in turn faded away. Dionysus grimaced, swearing softly to no one in particular. He looked around in hopes that the satyr, the nymph and the dryad were still around to amuse him. The dryad and nymph were curled up together in drowsy bliss. The satyr was no where to be seen. Eternity could be frustrating.