Earth Healer

Title: Earth Healer
Author: Fabled Faeri ( Fableweaver on AJCS )
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Xena: Warrior Princess/ Hercules: Legendary Journeys
Pairing: Ares/Joxer, Cupid/Strife, Xena/Iolaus/Auto, Jace/Jett,
Disclaimer: Not mine. Everything belongs to Ren Pics. ;-;
Warning: Joxer abuse, serious angst, mentioned rape, graphic sex
Archive: AJCS and only if you tell me first.
Notes: I use the real mythology when I write these fics, so if you see ‘Eris’ spelled with an ‘A’ it’s because I want to and it has no real significance. Also some people have parents (Like Aphrodite – she’s got a mother and a father.) so just be warned.

Summary: Joxer once was one of the most feared and respected men; he was an Earth Healer, an exclusive sect of people that Gaea herself chose. That was when he first met Ares, when they first fell in love. Only disaster struck in the form of an evil woman with a hunger for power and a love spell. And when Ares was struck in her anger and her last jealousies with a spell that would kill him, Joxer gave up his life for his love.

One hundred years later, Joxer has been reborn, the God of Peace and Infinity returned. Only, he has no idea about his powers or his past. Now it’s up to Ares to make him remember or the Twilight will destroy them all.


Earth Healer

Joxer was sitting in the middle of the barn on a low chest of equipment, re-braiding and oiling one of the lead whips for the horses, when he heard the crash. He looked up startled, that wasn’t a normal ‘feed (pay attention to) me now, because I’m pissed and will do damage’ horse noise. He silently slid from the chest and snuck towards where the sound had come from braiding stick still in hand, he stopped frozen when he saw what had made the crash. Instantly dropping the stick he ran to the side of the man laying face down in the bedding of the last stall, dropping to his knees beside the heavily injured man.

He gently turned the man over and gasped, nearly dropping him when he recognized the face of his father’s Lord. Ares, God of War, was laying – bleeding, unconscious, and skin in shreds- in the stable of one of his father’s prized stallions. He cradled the god to him and brushed the hay and shavings from the man’s beard and wild, inky curls of obsidian; trying to think of what to do with the man in his arms he jumped slightly when he realized that the god’s eyes had opened, and he stared into silver and gold flecked eyes so dark a brown that they appeared black.

“Shh, I’m here to take care of you, Ares.” Joxer whispered reassuringly, his eyes filled with his sincerity.

Ares’ eyes closed and he relaxed into Joxer’s embrace. Joxer sighed in relief then a determined glint lit his eyes.

He hefted the big man up onto his back and he carefully made his way out of the stall, shuffling towards one of the wheelbarrows. He spotted one filled with shavings and carefully laid his ward into the barrow, covering him with a horse blanket. He grimaced at his now blood soaked clothes, working faster because it meant he could save the life of the damaged god even quicker.

Then he was off, through the woods with the wheelbarrow on a tiny worn path that he’d made from his trek back and forth from his home and the stables. He was going as quick as he could without tipping over the barrow, but he wasn’t going fast enough, the shavings were quickly being stained red and he was losing all hope of ever getting to his home in time.

‘Please, someone…anyone! Help me save him.’ He prayed fervently, to no one and everyone.

He heard the pounding beat of paws on the earth before he saw the two giant wolves as they came to stop before him, making him stop with shaky jerking motions. He stilled as he met the eyes of the lead wolf that had sky blue eyes, shining with intelligence and worry.

“Well, I did ask for anyone.” Joxer murmured, then carefully picked the god up and placed him on the back of the wolf, securing his hands with a bit of rope in the bottom of the barrow, then used the blanket to make a sort of sling beneath the wolf’s belly and allowed the god to slip down into it his arms still around the wolf’s throat.

Joxer than promptly dumped the bloodied shavings over the edge of the ravine that ran along the edge of the path, watching as they disappeared into the inky darkness, shoving the wheelbarrow over for good measure. He then looked to the green eyed wolf and silently asked if he could climb up on to his back and so he could lead them to his home where he could heal the god. The large head nodded and he hefted himself as gracefully as possible onto the wolf’s back then they were off, he was whispering directions into his wolf’s ear as the other followed.

They made it to the small clearing where his cottage sat, but he led the wolves to the mouth of a system of caves and waterways deep in the side of the mountain he lived on. Joxer led them to a cave that was cleanly swept and dusted, a bed and worktable covered in bowls and jars, herbs and medicines. Shelves built into the rock covered in much the same with herbs hanging from the roof. A large hole let in sunlight from the roof, lighting upon the small fountain that poured down a few rock protrusions from a hole in the cave wall. The water fell down into a sparklingly clean pool that was a large hole in the ground that served as bathing and drinking water, also fed from a little crack in the wall where a small stream trickled through. It lead to an old underground river far beneath so it didn’t over flow.

Joxer carefully untied Ares’ hands from around the wolf’s neck, and slipped him out of his carrier, hefting him over to the bed. He then proceeded to strip everything from the god’s body, laying his bleeding form back onto the sheets of the straw and feather mattress and sterile white sheets. He ran to his workbench and grabbed three tools, thread, needle, and scissors. Then he brought a stool and a small collection of jars and vials to the table beside the bed. He then went to the large cauldron that hung over the fire pit in the corner, vented with a man made hole to the outside, and poured water into a basin beside it to wash his hands. He then put his apron over his clothes even if it was a lost cause anyway, tying his hair back into a loose ponytail, and went to his ward, unheeding as the wolves laid down out side the door to watch him.

Rubbing his hands together to get the blood moving Joxer began to mop up the blood and tie tourniquets to the wounds that wouldn’t stop bleeding. Once the skin was as clean as it was going to get, Joxer began to smear poultices on minor wounds, and stitching the more major ones, then smearing liberal amounts of poultices on those too. Cutting off hanging shreds of skin bandaging the open areas and covering them with healing oils and regenerating medicines, he sat back and began to gently and carefully clean the deep and serious wounds now that they’d stopped bleeding. He poured healing oils into the ones that weren’t life threatening, and stitched them closed, smearing them with more poultices and bandaging them.

But when Joxer got to the wound at the base of the god’s head he knew he had to use more than poultices and oils. He cleaned his hands again, and rubbed them together, more to calm his nerves than anything else. Then he shaved the hair around the wound, he cleaned it until fresh ruby blood came from it, he smeared oils and poultices over the wound then placed his hands over it, hovering an inch or two above it.

A gentle green glow surrounded his long hands, sparking silver and running along his skin like flames that would never char his flesh. He let the magic pour from his hands like water sinking deep into the gash. He closed his eyes and followed his magic with his mind, watching as it healed and regenerated the missing tissues of the brain, the skull reformed in that place, the nerves and neurons regenerating. The veins and cells all finished forming and the skin healed over, with one last push, and everything came alive again, as if the injury had never happened.

When Joxer came back to himself he gasped for breath, then ran to the waste basin and emptied the contents of his stomach. Using his magic always did that to him, and he’d never used it to that much of a detailed healing before. He straightened and washed his mouth out with a hand full of water and spat it into the waste basin, then wiped his mouth off on a rag, washed his hands and went back to work. He checked the minor wounds and noted with satisfaction that the poultices and a little bit of magic from him were healing them quite nicely, same with the more major wounds, but they would take a few days.

Joxer changed the sheets and pillowcases of the bed with Ares’ still on it as quickly as possible then laid a thick, feather comforter over him to keep him warm. A cool cloth was placed on his forehead, and Joxer sent magic into the god to assure a long, healing sleep. Then he began to clean up. All his tools went into a bowl to be cleaned, and all his poultices and oils were capped and stored away in proper order again. When he finished cleaning his tools and hanging them back on their racks, he pulled a piece of blank parchment from a leather bound book filled with hundreds upon hundreds of notes and recipes and healing techniques.

Pulling his quill from it’s holder at his workbench, and dipping it into the ink he began to write what poultices and oils were used and where, the output of energy he used magically, and the physical state of before and after the healing. Physical characteristics he gained from looking, measuring and a general checkup garnered him were also written down. He put up his quill and blew on the ink to make it dry faster than carefully placed it back into the notebook.

Joxer sighed tiredly, then removed his apron and hung it back up. He stripped off his tunic and vest, dropping them in the corner then took off his boots, setting them next to the clothes before going to fill his washbasin with hot water and cleaning up. A quiet yip alerted him to the fact he still had visitors, he turned and noted the identical stares of concerned and protective eyes.

“He’ll be alright with time and care. I’m worried about infection, though, he is mortal at the moment or his godhood is repressed, because I can’t sense his godmark.” Joxer told the two guardians of war, as he’d named them in his head. Getting up and walking towards the chest next to where he threw his soiled clothing, getting a clean tunic from it and slipping it over his head.

: What is your name, healer? : came a deep voice that sounded suspiciously like it had come from the blue-eyed wolf.

“Joxer.” He answered, looking slightly more sure when he saw the wolf nod in acknowledgement.

“May I ask your names?” Joxer asked, looking between the two wolves as their eyes met briefly.

: My name is Rom. : the blue-eyed wolf rumbled.

: And my name is Rem. : the green eyed wolf said with a softer rumble.

“It’s been a pleasure to meet you. So do you guard him or were you just in the area when I called out?” Joxer asked looking back over to his ward.

: We don’t guard him, but you. : Rem said before Rom could silence him with a yip.

Joxer looked at them startled, they protected him? But from what or who? He studied the two wolves with intense eyes for long moments, and then looked away with a sigh.

“So that’s why you came,” he murmured, then got up and moved towards the bed where Ares lay, tossing fitfully.

“Shh, I’m here to take care of you. Rest peacefully.” Joxer murmured as he kissed Ares’ forehead, pushing sleep magic into him. The restless man calmed instantly and settled back into his healing sleep.

Joxer looked back towards the wolves, Rem had an openly anxious look in his eyes, Rom tried to keep it hidden. He kept his face emotionless as he walked to them, standing before them for long moments before sinking his hands in the thick fur around Rom’s neck and kissing his muzzle in acceptance. He looked deeply into surprised but pleased blue eyes and smiled warmly. He then turned to Rem and did the same, garnering a happy yip and a lick from the other large wolf, making Joxer laugh.

Joxer knew something was wrong immediately when he returned to the cave the next morning. Joxer looked towards Ares suddenly and gasped, he could feel the heat from the man from there, he ran and threw on his apron, then gathered a large wood and marble basin filled with cotton and linen sacks, from beneath the workbench and set it beside his stool next to the bed, then filled it with the icy water from the pool. He quickly washed his hands, and tightened the ribbon in his hair.

He then threw off the covers and started to fill the thin leather lined linen sacks with water, freezing them with a little bit of earth magic, and packing them in around the god’s body to bring the fever down. Wiping sweat and stray water from the man’s skin ever so often, refilling or refreezing the packs. He also used his little bit of earth magic to dry the mattress beneath the god, and re-wrapped soaked bandages with dry ones, putting the wet ones out by the fire to dry.

Rem and Rom watched as those processes repeated themselves for hours, and then the hours turned to days. Four days had passed when the fever finally broke, the minor wounds had all fully healed with minimal to no scarring, but a few of the larger ones had been infected. So Joxer cleaned them out and used his healing magic to heal them before they could get worse, there had been six of them like that and when he was done, he’d had dry heaves for an hour.

When the infections and the fever were gone, Joxer cleaned up the mess; washing, drying and hauling things around until the space was clean and organized again. He was exhausted but had a cheerful disposition, which he explained, was because Ares would heal nicely now and would wake soon.


He was drifting in and out of consciousness, snatches of words and images playing across his brain. He was steadily shifting upwards through the darkness, and it was getting lighter, he was waking up and it hurt like a bitch. Ares groaned, his head was pounding, and his body was aching. He’d only ever felt like this when he was mortal that one time, and he’d hoped to never repeat the experience.

He found he was laying on a firm if rather comfortable mattress, and he was snuggled into clean sheets and a plush blanket. He smelled rock, fire, and water, realizing he must be in caverns of some sort. He tried to sit up but found his ribs had been bandaged tightly, his arms and his legs too. He wondered idly how badly Zeus had fucked him up this time, and who had the balls to defy the King of the Gods by healing him.

“Oh! Good, you’re awake. I was beginning to worry that you wouldn’t.” A gentle voice sounded from the other side of the room.

Ares looked over to see a tall, slender man with pale, grimy skin and a longish ponytail on his knees scrubbing the floor, or at least that was what it looked like the man had been doing. A large tub of soapy water and a scrub brush were his tools his trousers and sleeves rolled up and he was barefoot.

Joxer stood and wiped his hands off on his apron as he made his way over to his ward.

“How’s your head feeling?” he asked, checking the mortal god’s pupils.

“Thro-throbbing.” Ares croaked out after a moment.

“Good, then the medicine is working.” Joxer nodded then went to his worktable and rattled around for a vial of pain reducer.

“Take a mouthful of this and you should be alright pretty soon.” Joxer told Ares and watched as the god obeyed without thinking. He placed the bottle on the table beside the bed and then pulled the blankets back to check bandages.

“Good, you’re almost completely…what in Pluto’s name?” Joxer narrowed his eyes as Ares’ skin.

Ares looked down and they both watched as new lacerations and gashes began to appear, ripped and jagged and becoming infected too quickly to not be a god’s work. They both looked up at the door when Rem came sliding to a halt before it.

: Joxer! Your father is on his way to your cabin, we need to move him and get you to the cabin. Now! : Came the panted warning.

“Shit.” Was all Joxer said before looking around wildly.

“Um, I’m gonna need help.” Joxer said aloud before dropping to his knees in a praying position.

“Dear great mother of the Earth I am aprat of, I call for your dearly needed assistance. Great Gaea that had names me her Healer of all the Earth, your loyal servant needs you. Now.”Dear great Mother of the Earth I am apart of, I call for your dearly needed assistance. Great Gaea that has named me her Healer of all the Earth, your loyal servant needs you. Now.

Joxer’s voice came out like many voices together, and strangely metallic, making Ares wonder whom he was. A subdued flash of green let the War god know who exactly the healer called though.

“Grandmother,” Ares croaked.

“Ares, we must get you to the haven chambers. All will be explained later.” Gaea had a gentle, elderly voice that sounded like she knew everything and wished she didn’t.

Joxer smiled gratefully and nodded, “The haven has just been restocked and cleaned for this spring. But I have to go now, and I will return as soon as I can, Mother. Please guard him. Come on Rem.” Joxer ran from the room tossing his apron to the floor as he dashed out, hopping up onto the wolf’s back with ease.

As they raced from the caverns, Joxer had the feeling that he would be in for a very long haul with healing that god.

Gaea smiled affectionately after the healer, then turned to her grandson and grinned.

“Well lets get you hidden away, Res.” She said and he smiled before slipping into unconsciousness.

Joxer had just sent the two wolves to hide in the brush until needed when his father, two brothers, and his father’s special soldiers came galloping up to his cottage. He looked out the kitchen window and sighed wondering what in Gaea’s name they wanted.

“Joxer! Come out here you great disgrace!” Jonas called out to him.

Joxer stepped out onto his stoop and closed the door behind himself.

“Why does my Lord Father come calling?” Joxer called out evenly.

“One of my men is sick, you shall heal him. As an Earth Healer you must, it’s in your code.” Jonas ordered snidely.

“As it is, I shall never refuse a ward as long as I’m an Earth Healer, now bring him in, and be quick about it.” Joxer ordered curtly, opening the door and leading the two men carrying the sick man into the sick room of the cottage.

All of the men except the captain were outside with the horses; Jonas, Jett, Jace and the captain, were all in the antechamber of the sick room waiting.

Joxer threw on his apron, and quickly washed his hands before going over to examine the obviously sick soldier. He touched the boy’s forehead and shuddered slightly, closing his eyes and drawing his hand away.

He opened his eyes to meet the frightened brown ones of his ward, he smiled sadly and shook his head. Tears welled in the brown eyes and Joxer touched his forehead again in a gentle caress.

“You have a choice, either you let this disease run it’s course and you suffer it’s pain, or I can put you to rest now. But there is no way I can heal you of this malady without you paying for it in the long run.” Joxer told him truthfully but gently.

“Put me to rest, I don’t wish to suffer pain-madness, and I wish to go to my little one.” The boy said softly.

“Little one?” Joxer asked as he nodded.

“My baby brother, he died when we were little and I can’t be without him much longer.” The boy whispered, and Joxer understood.

The bond of twins, of womb mates, was a strong one that even reached out beyond the grave. This twin should’ve died at birth as well, but a god spared him for some reason. But the fates have cursed him to right out their weavings, so he should go to his little one.

“Close your eyes and sleep peaceful.” Was all Joxer said and he felt the life go out of the boy.

He smiled sadly and covered his face and head with the blankets, standing up and going back out the door with a defeated sigh.

“He’s dead.” Joxer said with a flat tone.

“Did you do nothing?” Jonas asked violently.

“He was gone before I could do anything, Father.” Joxer told him.

“Well, bring him back! He was one of my best-”

“I am a healer of the Earth, Father, not Pluto. I can no more bring that boy’s soul back than I could’ve healed him. He was half past dead when you brought him to me in the first place.” Joxer cut his father off curtly, forcefully, raising his chin and staring hard at the warlord.

They glared at each other for a few long moments until Jonas grunted and swept out, followed by the captain. Jett and Jace waited a few moments until their father left until they looked back to their brother’s sagging posture.

“What really happened?” Jett asked as the wrapped their arms around Joxer.

“His twin was calling him. He was destined to die, and would have sooner or later had I healed him. I can’t save the dead, and like I said, he was half past dead when he got here. He should have died seventeen years ago with his brother, only he didn’t by godly intervention alone.” Joxer explained softly.

His brothers understood and left soon after that. He sighed heavily before making his way out to where Rem was waiting.