At
the Crossroads
Part
Two
By
Medora MacD
MedoraMacD@yahoo.com
August
1999
Revised
August 2002
_____________________________________________________________
Disclaimers
/ The Cliff's Notes Version
Legal Disclaimer: The characters of Xena: Warrior
Princess and all other associated with the television series of the same name are owned by
MCA/ Universal Pictures. This is a work of fan fiction and no copyright infringement is
intended. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property
of the author.
Subtext: This story depicts a love relationship
between two consenting adult women. If you are under 18 years of age or if this type of
story is illegal in the state or country in which you live, please do not read it.
Violence: No more than on the TV show. Possibly
less.
Hurt/Comfort: Yes; appropriate for the story line.
Language: No expletives harsher than damn, used
sparingly.
Timeline: Set early in Season Three, before Dahak
and the Rift stories.
Sincere Thanks: To Lunacy, for providing a list of
beta readers; to beta reader Gin, who did NOT take time away from her Xena the Conqueror
stories to offer helpful suggestions (as the gods are my witness: any advice she gave me
did NOT interfere with her own wonderful writing! I promise!); and to my family and
friends for their love, advice, and tolerance of my ineffable weirdness.
Feedback: Send compliments, comments, and
constructive criticism to medoramacd@yahoo.com.
_____________________________________________________________
(Novella
length disclaimers at the end of this part)
_____________________________________________________________
CHAPTER
FOUR
"Life
is too short, life is too short..."
The
fortune teller's words fit themselves to the cadence of Argo's hooves on the stony path.
Try as she might, neither woman could ignore them.
For
Gabrielle, Treeza's parting advice was an affirmation of her decision to demand that Xena
allow their relationship to grow beyond its present bounds. "Life is too short to
waste a single moment. Hold tightly to it -- and to each other. Nothing else
matters." Not warlords bent on revenge, not murdering thugs, not a life on the road,
not what her parents and others would think! By the
gods, if only Xena would take those words to heart!, thought Gabrielle.
Xena,
however, was hearing only the first four words of the fortune teller's admonition:
"Life is too short." She agreed. Gabrielle's life was too precious to be
shortened by a single second or impoverished by another day of sleeping on the ground
exposed to the elements, to hunger, to disease, to the horrors of Xena's past. She
deserved a home and a family. People who could be counted on to stand by her day after
day, year after year, rather than dashing off whenever some stranger asked for assistance.
All things that Xena knew she could never give her.
_____________________________________________________________
All
too soon, the travelers came to the crossroads. The branch on their right angled sharply
up toward Mancor. The gently sloping road ahead to the left would lead past Amazon
territory. The third alternative led north up the coast, to Kavala. A lush meadow filled
much of the top part of the X formed by the trails. It had a gentle stream where horses
and riders could refresh themselves and trees and boulders for shade.
The
duo halted uncertainly. The moment had come. Buying a little time, Xena looped Argo's
reins over the saddle horn and slapped her on the hindquarters, directing her to the
meadow. Silently, she crossed to the other side of the intersection and descended the set
of shallow stone stairs that led to the cliff's edge and a precarious footpath to the
beach far below. When she reached the bottom, she took a deep breath, sucking in the salt
air, listening to the gulls wheeling overhead, watching the sun sparkle on the waves.
Slowly she turned to face the bard, who had followed her down the steps and now stood a
short distance behind her waiting for her answer.
At
the sight of Gabrielle's resolute, yet somehow hopeful face, Xena forgot the speech she'd
been rehearsing for the better part of a candlemark. The bard, in turn, studied the
warrior's face intently. She read in its stillness, the tightness of its jaw, the expanded
area of white around those impossibly blue eyes the answer she had prayed she would not
hear.
"You're
not going to do it, are you? You're not going to take the chance." The bard spoke
before Xena could marshal her thoughts. "Damn it, Xena! You can be such a coward
sometimes. The gods alone know why I love you so." She turned to leave, fists
clenched and jaw set.
"Wait
a minute!" Stung by Gabrielle's comments, the warrior grabbed her by the arm and
whirled her back around. "Who are you calling a coward, damn it?!"
"I'm
not talking about physical courage, Xena, or what it takes to run an army or half the
Known World. Or the moral courage to take responsibility for your actions. You've got that
by the boatload. I sometimes wish you didn't. The risks you take scare me to death."
She
paused, choosing her words with even greater care than usual.
"I
know you'd never hesitate to put your body or your life on the line to save me or to serve
the greater good. I've seen you do it, time and again...
"But
face it, Xena. You're an emotional coward. Nothing scares you so much as a genuine
feeling, especially one that you might be expected to reciprocate. You'd put your life on
the line for me; you'd just never risk your heart! Look at you! Your eyes look like Argo's
during a thunderstorm. You'd bolt for cover if it wouldn't just confirm what I'm
saying."
The
cords of Xena's neck bulged, and her eyes flashed ominously. Recovering her voice -- and
her wits -- she struck back.
"This
isn't about courage, Gabrielle. This is about common sense. About what is, not what you wish things would be. Just how long do you think
we can keep this up? How long will it take before I don't block one of those sword
thrusts, don't see the guy sneaking up behind you?"
"I
can take care of myself, Xena!"
"Yes,
you can, Gabrielle. You are the best staff fighter this side of the Alps. But if you
weren't traveling with me, you probably wouldn't have to use a staff at all! And you
wouldn't be sleeping on the side of a mountain, cold and wet, or wondering where your next
meal was coming from and when."
"I
told you before, Xena. I'm not a child. I accepted long ago the possible consequences of
our life together. I'm prepared to be cold sometimes. I'm prepared to be hungry. And I'm
prepared to die."
"Are
you prepared for my death, Gabrielle?" The
warrior was almost shouting. "I know what I promised, but sooner rather than later
someone's gonna be faster or smarter or luckier. I know
what you felt like as you brought my body down from Mount Nestos, Gabrielle. I heard your thoughts. I am NOT ready to cause --
or to endure -- that kind of pain again! Are you?"
Gabrielle
faced the question square on, putting her heart and soul into the answer.
"No,
Xena, I'm not ready to feel that pain again. I won't ever be. Nor am I willing to pretend
that what I feel for you doesn't exist. 'Life is too short to waste a single moment,'
Xena. That's what Treeza said and I believe her. I won't waste another moment being with
you and not being able to love you fully and openly."
She
gave a forlorn laugh. "You seem to think I'll find someone else. Been there. Done
that. It wouldn't have worked out even if Callisto hadn't killed Perdicus. As Minya put it
so well, you're 'the main thing, the real deal, the #1 attraction.' The choice isn't
between you and someone else, Warrior Princess. It's between you and anyone. If I leave here alone, I won't be leaving
in search of some man or woman to take your place. I'll be leaving in search of a way to
fill the days until we meet again in the Fields -- which will be about two heartbeats
after I learn of your death."
Gabrielle
watched as her words hit home -- and as Xena willed herself to dismiss them.
She
waited another long moment, hoping against hope that the warrior would find the fortitude
to overcome her fears. It was no use. It just wasn't going to happen.
"I'll
get my stuff off Argo and go, Xena." She nodded grimly. "The gods be with
you."
"Wait!
I mean... What are you going to do? I mean, you'll need a waterskin, other
supplies..."
"That's
not your concern any more, now is it?"
Xena's
flinch woke Gabrielle to the realization that this was not the way she wanted to remember
this moment. This wasn't about hurting back. Nor was it about being nobler. It was about
honoring what the two of them had shared.
"I'd
intended to head for Amazon territory," she said, studying the ground and the groove
her boot was carving in the dirt. "I thought maybe... some time to sort things out.
You know, something to keep me occupied. But I think now I'll take Oz and Treeza up on
their offer. With any luck, if I hurry, I'll meet them at nightfall where the shortcut
comes out on the road to Kavala. Being a stray worked for me once before," she noted
wryly. "My sewing's lousy, but they can always use another spear carrier. Who knows?
Maybe one of those scrolls will turn out to be
the next Oedipus Rex! And if that doesn't work
out -- well, you said Kavala was booming. I'll find something." She took a deep
breath.
"Goodbye,
Xena. And thank you. You taught me more than you'll ever know." She ducked her head.
"And I'm really sorry about the 'chopping thugs into itty-bitty pieces' crack this
morning. You didn't deserve that."
She
looked up wistfully at the proud, pained face of the woman she loved, at the sculpted jaw,
the lips that deserved to smile much more often than their owner would ever allow. It hurt
almost beyond measure to think she might never see her again. Still... it was time to go.
"I
love you, Xena, and I will miss you more than I can say."
She
headed for the stairs and had climbed one or two when Xena suddenly spoke.
"Stop!"
Gabrielle took another step up, then stiffened, sensing a tall, dark body closing in
behind her. "I mean... Please?"
She
halted, turned to listen and found herself staring squarely into a pair of sky blue eyes
-- eyes that blinked in shock, then dropped to the steps in a near panic. The stairs had
negated the difference in their heights and it was throwing everything off -- at least for
the warrior.
Now
it was Xena's turn to stare at her boots while she scrambled to collect her thoughts.
After a moment, she stammered, "I'm sorry, too, Gabrielle. I wish I were able to... I
mean... You've gotten closer than anyone else, ever, and if it were possible... well,
you'd be it."
It
wasn't terribly articulate, but Gabrielle would probably know what she meant, the warrior
reassured herself. She fixed her gaze on a point slightly to the right of Gabrielle's
right ear and continued her farewell, finally finding a way to impose order upon her
fractious thoughts and words.
"You
taught me as much as I ever did you, bard -- and more. From the beginning you brought
light to my darkness and made it possible -- even necessary -- for me to do things even I
knew were impossible."
She
cracked a crooked smile and risked looking at Gabrielle. "Like getting you up in the
morning with only a minimum of physical violence!" They managed to laugh a little at
this small, safe memory, each knowing they'd probably weep later about so many others.
"You
changed my life, Gabrielle. I'll never forget our time together -- or you. I promise
always to try to live up to your faith in me. The gods be with you."
Xena
stepped forward and clasped the young woman's forearm in a warrior's handshake. "I'll
miss you, Gabrielle. I w..."
She
started to make a "wish" with her lips, then, without warning, without conscious
thought, did what her body had wanted to do almost since the day she had stopped outside
Potadeia to bury her bloody past. She leaned forward and pressed her lips firmly against
the bard's warm, red ones.
So sweet! She took a deeper sip. Sweeter -- and more precious -- than any honey I've
ever tasted! I...
It
hadn't felt like this, when she'd kissed Gabrielle while occupying the body of their
friend Autolycus. Not at all. This was... more immediate. More real. And more intense. Much more.
Abruptly,
she was back on the steps, her arm still clasping Gabrielle's smaller, smoother one. Their
eyes locked in surprise and wonder.
"I...
I'm sorry, Gabrielle. I didn't mean t... "
She
dropped the bard's arm as if scalded, straightened, and backed away from the stairs,
waving her arms in front of her as if to brush away what had happened. Gabrielle dropped
to the steps, her knees suddenly too weak to support her.
"Your
mind didn't mean to do it, Xena, but your body seemed to know what it was doing."
And how! She gulped and then continued out loud,
"Stop listening to your head, Xena. Start listening to your heart."
Xena
continued to retreat, shaking her head. "I can't, Gabrielle... It's just too..."
"Stop,
Xena! I mean it! Don't move another step!"
The
terror in Gabrielle's voice cut through the warrior's own fear, and she halted as ordered.
Slowly the bard advanced and extended an arm. Xena gawked at it dumbly.
"Xena,"
Gabrielle asked gently, "do you trust me?"
As
the warrior nodded, Gabrielle grabbed a major handful of leather and metal and yanked as
hard as she could -- pulling Xena away from the brink of the cliff, to which her panicky
steps had unknowingly led her.
Xena
gazed soberly at the rock-strewn base of the cliff, some 40 feet below, as Gabrielle
traced soothing circles on her rigid back. "It's okay, Xena. I've got you."
"No,
Gabrielle," said the warrior regretfully, drawing slowly away. "No, you don't.
This doesn't change anything. It can't. I meant everything I said..."
"And
everything you did?"
"I
don't know how... But... It won't happen again!"
"That's
too bad. I really liked it..." She stared at the warrior in wonder, remembering.
"Your lips, Xena! They were so... sweet!"
Xena's
head jerked at the bard's use of that particular word.
"Please,
Xena! I'm not going to say anything else. You know how I feel. But you don't really seem
to know how YOU feel. Give yourself time to find out." She glanced about quickly.
"Take a walk along the shore, maybe? Please?"
The
warrior wavered, looking at the beach below and then back at Gabrielle, who nodded
encouragingly.
"G'wan.
I'll take care of Argo till you get back."
Xena
started slowly picking her way down the path to the sea - and Gabrielle started praying.
CHAPTER
FIVE
The
sea air and the crash of the waves weren't helping at all, Xena realized. Her head still
felt as if it were stuck in a hive full of fidgety bees -- an image that led rather
naturally to thoughts of honey... and of honey-colored hair... and of lips as sweet as...
"Augh!
This is getting me nowhere!"
She'd
been pacing the beach for the better part of a candlemark and had whacked the tops off
most of the scraggly weeds growing amid the boulders at the bottom of the cliff. Putting
away her sword, she began to vent her frustration on the wave-washed stones scattered
along the shore. Including a deeply buried one that kicked back, rather than splashing
into the surf as expected.
Hopping
about on one leg, Xena gave the gulls a demonstration of her impressive linguistic
abilities. You couldn't run an army without swearing, she had discovered, and she knew at
least one eye-popping profanity in every major language of the Known World.
She
was surprised at how easily she recalled the words. She seldom got to use them any more.
She'd let loose with some really colorful ones the first day she'd been traveling with
Gabrielle. And the shock on that sweet young face had reminded her that many normal folks
lived their whole lives without making reference to the grossest of bodily functions or
perverted sexual acts. Since then, she tried to confine herself to epithets of the mildest
sorts.
It
was liberating, in a way, to be able to express herself so freely now. To say
"shazbat," an extremely potent oath she'd picked up in the Far East, since that
was, in fact, what she meant. Why, then, the unaccountable sense of melancholy that swept
over her at the realization that she no longer had a reason to temper her language? She
limped sourly to a boulder at the cliff's base to nurse her bruised foot and battered
psyche.
"Way
to go, Destroyer of Nations! Laid low by a rock -- and a green-eyed girl! Mind telling me
again how you came to be in this dreadful fix?"
What
if I hadn't decided at exactly that moment to
bury my weapons? If that valiant girl hadn't tried to save her friends? If she hadn't
followed me to Amphipolis and stepped forward to save a woman who was ready to die at the
hands of her former neighbors rather than continue to fight the guilt and the pain?
She
rubbed her booted foot absent-mindedly, reliving the confrontation in her mother's inn,
feeling anew the profound despair of that moment.
I
was so... dead. Being stoned by the people of Amphipolis would have just made it official.
That's what I was looking for, I know. I was standing on the edge of a cliff then, too,
and waiting for a breeze, any breeze, to blow me over, put me out of my misery. Gabrielle
pulled me back somehow. By filling my days with innocuous chatter and finding patterns in
the night skies that helped stave off the nightmares. By giving me somebody to take care
of. To care for. By seeing something in me that I'm only just beginning to...
She
brought me back to life, damn it! Gave me the chance to know my mother again. My brother.
Autolycus, Ephiny, Joxer.
And Solan! She shook her head in amazement, as
the numbers continued to mount up. At one time, she'd have needed no more than one or two
fingers to count the people upon whom she could rely -- and who would care if she came to
harm. She bowed her head in gratitude.
I
can't have you, Gabrielle. But thanks to you, I'll have things I never dreamed I could:
family, some friends, the "greater good."
"A
lot more pain, too," another part of her mind warned her. "Pain that you
wouldn't have felt before she came into your life! You thought it was bad when she left
for the Academy in Athens? When she married Perdicus? That was nothing, Warrior Princess!
This one's gonna hurt like..."
Like
it did when Gabrielle died in Thessalonika, Xena
admitted to herself. Because this is going to be
forever. We're not going to be getting together for the Winter Solstice or swapping
birthday presents.
And
I'm not counting on a reunion in the Elysian Fields either. Sorry, Gabrielle. With your
help, I've managed to make amends for some of my sins. But I've spilled enough blood, my
bard, to fill the Aegean Sea. And I've paid off only one or two buckets' worth. Much as
I'd love to see your beautiful face on the other side when it's my time, I don't think
we're going to the same place.
"When
it's my time..." The words reminded her of another shore and another sweet young
woman.
M'Lila
-- you took me down from Caesar's cross, threw yourself in front of an arrow for me,
because you said it was not my time to die. I repaid your love and your sacrifice by
raining death and destruction as far as my bloody hands could reach...
And
when Nicklio was unable to save me the second time, when I died on Mount Nestos and hung
on another cross, one of my own making, you told me I had a "destiny" -- but I
had to choose it. You told me to listen to Gabrielle's thoughts... and when I did, I knew
I had to find a way to come back. Is this what you keep saving me for? This moment? This
decision? Is this my destiny? Is this how I am to honor your memory?
M'Lila.
Caesar's soldiers had killed the beautiful brown-skinned stowaway before she had had the
chance to tell her how she felt about her.
"What
a pile of crap!" exclaimed the part of her mind that seemed to be in charge of
keeping Xena honest, at least with herself. "Who do you think you're fooling, Queen
of Denial? You had plenty of chances -- but you
passed them by because you thought you had all the time in the world! Are you going to
make the same mistake with Gabrielle?"
And
what did us loving each other ever get M'Lila but dead?
It won't matter how much I love Gabrielle if being with me gets her killed!
"Or
if you betray her love, the way you eventually did with all the others... Do you even have
it in you, Xena, to be faithful to just one person, for the rest of your life? To love
her, not just use her?"
Xena
cradled her head in her hands, massaging her temples in a vain attempt to ease the
pounding there. She fought to quiet the clash of her thoughts, to focus instead on the
sound of the birds and the surf. An errant noise and the barest whiff of something foul
alerted her to a more immediate threat -- but too late. Even as she recognized the danger,
a net settled over her, pinning her arms and legs in place.
Unfazed,
she used her body as a weapon, flinging herself at the nearest of the two rancid men
trying to capture her. He dodged, but managed to maintain his grip on the rope that held
the net closed. Xena was flat on her back on the sandy soil now -- though hardly
defenseless. She kept them at bay with several well-placed two-footed kicks, all the while
struggling to extricate her hands.
If
she could stretch her fingers... just a little further... she might be able to reach her
breast dagger and then...
"Ooh,
got a wildcat 'ere, Noxon. Some kinda Amazon looks like. Oughta bring plenty of dinars!
Tip 'er upside down, shall we, and drop 'er a few times? See if she lands on her
feet?"
The
man with the rope tossed the end of it over the branch of a nearby tree and pulled down
hard on it, inverting the net and the warrior suspended within it. Fatal mistake! Aided by
gravity, the dagger at last slid free. A judicious wriggle or two brought it within reach
of Xena's teeth. She bit into the handle and, with a quick slash of her head, severed the
rough twine imprisoning her hand. Taking up the dagger, she ripped a hole in the netting
big enough to drop through. A quick roll and she was up. With a feral grin, she flipped
the dagger to her left hand and slid her sword out of its scabbard with her right. Her
would-be abductors drew their own weapons and split to either side.
No
negotiation now. No chats -- sensitive or otherwise. Just death. These guys were begging
for it, from their poor personal hygiene to the cruel manacles that dangled from their
belts and the string of human teeth the bigger one was wearing as a necklace.
Her
blade whipped through the air. Teeth went flying as the cord of the necklace was severed
-- along with a significant portion of the neck it had been encircling. Hot,
coppery-smelling blood sprayed into the air, blinding her. The warrior stepped to one
side, anticipating the rush of the remaining slaver. When he drew even with her, she ran
him through with her sword.
Swiping
the back of a hand across her face to clear her vision, Xena knelt to examine the carcass
sprawled grotesquely in the dirt at her feet. Only one part of his noisome garb looked
like it wouldn't generate disease on contact, the insignia affixed to his tunic. It was a
blood red dagger overlaying a black star with five points. It was slightly less filthy
than the rest of his clothing, suggesting that it had been added more recently. Xena was
moving to examine the other man when noises from far above froze her in her tracks. She
heard a distinctive neigh and a woman's shout -- followed by the unmistakable sound of
wood colliding solidly with flesh. Gabrielle!
There
was no time to pick her way back up the rugged footpath. Hastily sheathing her bloody
sword, Xena surveyed the cliff's face. There! That looked like the only possible route.
Xena
returned the dagger to her right hand and started climbing. Time and again she buried the
weapon in crevices of stone too small to be seen. Together with the nails of her other
hand, she used it to claw her way up the rock. At times her boots -- and her hopes --
rested on little more than an exposed pebble or root.
The
cliff wall bowed outward slightly. She pressed her body into it, filling the whorls of her
armor with dirt and rock as she pulled past it. Her heart pounded in her throat:
"Life is too short," it pulsed. "Life is too short." Calling upon any
gods still willing to listen to pleas from her, Xena prayed as she climbed: "Give me
one more chance. Please. Just one more chance to tell Gabrielle how I feel. I promise. I
won't waste it."
With
that she pulled herself up on a shallow ledge about 10 feet below the lip of the cliff.
The sound of fighting was clearer now. Its very existence was reassuring; it meant that
Gabrielle was still holding her own. Facing the sea, Xena threw herself upward and back in
a mighty somersault. Powerful legs cushioned her landing, then pushed her into a twisting
back leap that cleared the steps to the crossroads. Sword in hand, Xena flew toward the
meadow, where she could see the bard, back against a tree, repulsing the attack of three
thugs. A fourth was closing in from her blind side, however, sword drawn.
With
a piercing cry, Xena vaulted across the open ground, reaching Gabrielle's side in time to
intercept a blow meant for the bard's back. The slaver's sword glanced along Xena's armor
instead, then sliced cruelly into her left thigh, just below the protection of her
battledress. It caught there long enough for Xena to send its wielder to Tartarus.
"'Bout
time you showed up," Gabrielle grunted, between swings of her staff. She was
beginning to show signs of tiring. Her opponents, the warrior noticed, looked even more
weary.
"That's
what you get for asking a warrior to think about something. You know how that slows us down!" retorted Xena.
"Do you mind...?"
"Heavens,
no," said the beleaguered bard. "Take as many as you want."
With
a swipe of her blade, Xena transferred two of the slavers from Gabrielle's To Do List to
her own. With a few more flicks, she separated them from their putrid lives. Gabrielle,
with a resounding thwack, smacked the weapon out of the hand of the final swordsman and
sent him scurrying for the hills.
Xena
turned to pursue him, bloodied leg and all, when her ears detected the characteristic whir
of arrows in flight. She deflected the first into the ground with her sword, but the only
way to thwart the second was by tackling Gabrielle. The arrowhead lanced into her right
shoulder instead of Gabrielle's torso.
Not a bad trade. she thought, forbidding the pain
to register for a moment. Not bad at all.
Bending
down, she scooped up the slaver's abandoned weapon with her left hand and flung the sword
like a javelin at a tree 20 feet away. The archer hiding there toppled to the ground with
a satisfying thud. The sword had impaled him before he could reload, Xena noted with a
savage pride.
A
low groan drew her attention back to Gabrielle. The bard was lying crumpled on the ground,
where she had been driven by the force of Xena's desperate dive.
CHAPTER
SIX
"Are
you okay, Gabrielle? Did they hurt you? Did I?
The
bard slowly pushed herself to a sitting position. She surveyed the blood-soaked warrior in
front of her. Xena's right side was covered in gore, some of it from the vermin she'd just
dispatched, the rest streaming slowly but steadily down her arm from the arrow piercing
her shoulder. The slash across the top of her left thigh, below her leathers, was
beginning to close, but blood had traced a grisly map on her leg as it had escaped. Her
raven hair was sweat-soaked, and the swirls of her armor had somehow become encrusted with
dirt.
She
was a mess, the most beautiful, blue-eyed mess the bard had ever seen. Gabrielle smiled
tremulously. "I'm fine, Xena. Really. But you
look like something the cyclops stomped."
"Just
what is it with you and slavers,
Gabrielle?"
The
bard rose to her feet, dusting herself off. "I only do it to get your attention,
Xena. You know that."
"Well,
you've got it. Totally. You can stop now."
The
sword dropped from the exhausted warrior's suddenly nerveless right hand. She gawked at
it, surprised, then stumbled to a nearby boulder and lowered herself down on it.
"Whoa!" She swayed.
"Gods,
Xena..." Gabrielle rushed to her side. Her hands fluttered uncertainly over the
warrior's battered body, not sure where to start.
"The
shoulder first, Gabrielle. We've got to stop the bleeding. Then the leg."
Xena
appraised the shaft protruding from her shoulder. She gave a tiny shrug. Good, no
sensation of wood grating on bone. It was a clean shot. She could tell by the way that the
skin pulled along her back, however, that the point had not emerged fully. She
contemplated smacking her shoulder into the trunk of the nearest tree, then decided she'd
faint before she got halfway there.
Not
good. The Code of Conduct is quite explicit on this matter: warrior princesses are NOT
allowed to fall flat on their faces -- at least not in front of witnesses. Totally ruins
the image.
She
sighed, then looked at the bard ruefully. "You're going to have to push it through,
Gabrielle, before you can break the head off. You know, same old same old. We'll need my
medicine pouch."
Belatedly,
she registered Argo's absence. Before she could ask, Gabrielle pointed to a nearby rise,
to which she had sent the palomino when the slavers attacked. Putting fingers to her
mouth, Gabrielle gave the sharp whistle that would recall the horse. She raised an eyebrow
at her companion as Argo cantered to a stop beside them.
"Gabrielle
of Potadeia, Bard, Amazon Queen, and... Horse Wrangler, I presume?" said Xena,
rebounding quickly from the surprise.
"I
have many skills," Gabrielle responded in a very familiar tone.
"Including
stealing other people's lines, I see," replied Xena with a touch of asperity -- which
she offset with a good-natured grin. She started to reach for the saddlebags -- abruptly
changing her mind when the movement caused her shoulder to feel as if an entire legion of
Roman soldiers were tap dancing on it. She slumped back on the rock.
Without
a word, Gabrielle moved quickly to unlash the pouch holding Xena's medicines and lengths
of clean linen. Placing them on the boulder where they could be easily reached, she moved
in front of Xena and slightly to one side. She bit her lip in concentration and eyed the
distance to the end of the shaft. Then mimed hitting it with the open palm of her callused
hand, adjusted her position minutely, and braced her powerful legs. She waited for
warrior's nod. When she got it, she took a deep breath and struck as hard as she could.
Xena
grunted harshly and bent over in pain. "Now the arrowhead, Gabrielle," she
instructed through gritted teeth. With her left hand, she handed the bard her dagger.
Moving
behind the warrior, Gabrielle studied the way the shaft protruded from her shoulder,
quickly planning her moves. She nodded grimly. "Okay, Xena. Here we go." Xena
clenched her teeth again and steeled herself for the pain.
Taking
care to jar the shaft as little as possible, Gabrielle scored the arrow deeply about an
inch behind its barbed and bloody point. Wrapping her right hand with the linen, she
firmly grasped the shaft on either side of the groove she had notched.
"Ready?"
"Um..."
With
a swift flex of hands made strong by hours of staff practice, Gabrielle broke the shaft.
Xena sagged back against her, unconscious. Taking advantage of the woman's insensibility,
Gabrielle balanced her partner lightly against her chest and, reaching around, in one
swift, sure motion, pulled the remains of the shaft from Xena's body.
With
a grimace, she tossed the arrow aside, then grabbed for another piece of linen. Wadding it
up, she pressed it firmly into the exit wound on the back, where blood flowed most freely.
With a quick flick of her wrist, she loosened the cloth around her hand and used it to
secure the compress tightly to the shoulder, front and back. The leg needed cleaning and
bandaging, too, but it would just have to wait until Xena revived and could sit up on her
own. Till then...
Gabrielle
wrapped her arms around the woman she loved and, with a quiet sob, pressed her lips to the
top of her head. It was so hard, sometimes, to be as tough as she thought Xena expected
her to be. Healing wasn't something that came naturally to her. She'd never liked dealing
with blood of any kind. She could catch fish and cook them; she just couldn't kill or
clean them. In the course of their travels, Xena had showed her how to dress battle
wounds. She'd learned well. She had to. Her thoughts flashed to the people she'd tended at
Thesssaly and when they fought the Horde. So much blood -- but none as precious as that
now staining her hands.
Forget
all those earlier requests about keeping us together, she
told the gods. Just make her well again. That's
the only thing that matters.
Gabrielle
prayed to Apollo and Asclepius to give her the strength and the skill to do whatever it
would take to keep Xena alive. Then, having done all she could do for the moment, she
closed her eyes and allowed herself to surrender briefly to the stresses she had been
bearing for what seemed like centuries.
_____________________________________________________________
As
Xena resurfaced, her mind registered first the rocking sensation, then the splash of
something warm and wet on her neck and chest. A ship perhaps? Was she at sea? She listened
for the creaking of the ropes and the crack of the sails. The next breeze, however,
brought to her ear the sound of gentle weeping and wisps of red-gold hair that caressed
her face.
"Ga...
Gabrielle?"
The
arms encircling her tightened, almost painfully.
"Xena?
Thank the gods! I was afraid you'd never... Oh, Xena! I'm so sorry. I tried so hard not to
hurt you, but..."
"Gabrielle,
it's all right. I'm fine!"
She
moved to sit upright, jolting her injured shoulder and setting off a tsunami of pain that
threatened to put her under again. She groaned involuntarily, then finished pushing
herself upright. The bard moved in front of her, prepared to catch her if she wavered
again.
"I
mean, I'm obviously not all right... But I'm a
lot better than I would have been without your help."
"Xena,
if it weren't for me you wouldn't have been hurt in the first place..."
Xena
rubbed a grubby hand across her face to cover the pain she knew must be registering there.
It didn't work.
"Look
at you! I've never seen you in such agony, Xena. I can't bear it!"
"I
can."
"What?"
"I
said, 'I can.' I have endured much worse. I've just tried to never let you see it
before," she declared, staring unflinchingly into Gabrielle's disbelieving eyes.
Thanks to the rock on which she was sitting, their gazes were once more level with one
another. A flush moved through Xena's body. It was time to make good on her promise to
whoever had helped her up that cliff.
"Gabrielle,"
the warrior said, enfolding the young woman's hand in her own, "there's only one pain
I can't endure -- being separated from you. It nearly killed me when you died in Thessaly.
Hurt only slightly less when you married Perdicus." She turned and looked seaward,
speaking to herself as much as to the bard. "I don't know why I didn't remember that
this morning."
Gabrielle
gulped, tried to respond, then decided that it was foolish to interrupt if the taciturn
warrior had finally decided to speak. She managed to squeeze Xena's hand, hoping the older
woman would interpret it, correctly, as permission to proceed.
Evidently,
she did, for after a moment her gaze returned again to the bard.
"It
doesn't make sense, Gabrielle. It makes you a target. Makes me vulnerable. And yet, when
that scum ambushed me down there, the only thing I could do was pray that I'd be given
another chance to tell you..."
Locking
eyes with Gabrielle, she continued. "It still makes no sense. And it scares me to
death. I don't know if I can do this. How it can possibly work. But whatever the cost to
either of us, I realized during that climb that you need to know this. That I need to tell
you. I... love you."
Leaning
forward, she shared a kiss with Gabrielle that started as a repeat of their tender embrace
on the cliff, then grew in intensity. It ended only when Xena shifted to draw Gabrielle
nearer to her and jarred both her shoulder and wounded leg in the process.
"Ow!
Double ow! Hydra poop!" She managed to control her language, but her eyes were still
watering when she finally managed to look up at the bard.
The
bard's eyes shone as she caressed the warrior's face with the back of her hand.
"Sorry, my love. We still have a few repairs to attend to."
"So
I see," her companion replied, sheepishly. Reluctantly she dragged her thoughts back
to matters more practical. She eyed the wound on her leg. "This should probably be
sewn up -- or it'll take a set of leathers as long as that old skirt of yours to cover the
scar."
She
glanced around, quickly sizing up their situation. "First things first, though. It's
getting late in the day and at least one of those scumbags got away. He may bring back
reinforcements to try to finish us off. We've got to get out of here."
"Xena!
I'm not letting you off that rock till we treat your leg! There's no point in dodging the
bad guys and dying of blood loss on the trail!"
She
is SO cute when she's mad. Thing is... she's right. A few minutes now to tend that slash will extend by half a day our ability to get to a
safe haven.
"Okay..."
She stretched her left hand toward her healer's bag, noting with amusement Gabrielle's
astonishment at her capitulation. "When you're right, you're right, Gabrielle. Must
have had an awesome teacher."
"She
was... adequate," the bard retorted, trying to look as if she had known all along
that Xena would give in. She grabbed the bag before Xena could reach it. "Nah ah!
That's my job. What do you need?"
"I
need you to hand over that bag," the warrior growled, her fear of being dependent
surfacing with a vengeance. "Before I have to beat you over the head with it."
Gabrielle
held the bag high, glaring at her in defiance. "You and what army?"
Realizing
that her "faster-than-a-speeding-arrow, able-to-leap-tall-huts" attitude was
getting her nowhere fast, the warrior relented.
"Please,
Gabrielle. I need to pull out some herbs to help clean the wound and keep it draining
until we have time to sew it up properly." She put on the puppy dog face that she had
always used on her mother. "I need you to
get the waterskin and the wineskin from Argo -- so you can wash out some of the debris and
'pickle' anything nasty that gets left in there. Then we'll wrap it for travel."
The
bard handed over the bag -- without a trace of subservience, Xena noted a bit nervously --
and strode briskly to where Argo was patiently cropping grass. The mid-afternoon sun
danced in her beautiful hair, played along her taut body, stroked those incredible
abdominal muscles. Xena was mesmerized.
"Wuh?"
She realized Gabrielle was standing in front of her once again. The bard was gazing
tenderly at her and -- was that a smile?
"I
said: what do you want me to do now?"
"Oh!"
Xena shook her head. "Must be the pain. I kind of faded out of it there." She
fanned herself and glanced up through fluttering lashes, expecting to encounter a
guilt-ridden gaze. She got a full-fledged smirk instead. Gabrielle wasn't buying it. She
was well and truly busted.
She
flushed and gave a shy grin of acknowledgment, then wiped her forehead a bit shakily. It
was beaded with sweat.
Damn.
You're not just love sick, Warrior Mushball. You're sick
sick!
She
compared the symptoms in their varying intensities to other times when she'd been wounded.
Oh yeah! This was NOT going to be fun. Probably be
delirious before it's all over. Better warn Gabrielle pretty soon. Let her know what she's
going to have to deal with.
She
directed the grinning bard to flood the leg wound with water while she brushed at it
gingerly with some relatively clean cloth. When the worst of the grit was removed, she had
Gabrielle spray the area liberally with wine. She wasn't sure how it worked; she only knew
that battle wounds soaked in wine seemed to fester less often, especially if treated with
certain herbs.
Reaching
into her medical supplies, Xena selected two of the dried herbs stored there. Crushing
them together with her fingers, she sprinkled them over the oozing gash. Selecting a third
herb, she washed it down with some water and a grimace. She took another long drink from
the waterskin, thanking the gods that they weren't dealing with an abdominal wound. Water
seemed to help somehow when you'd lost a lot of blood, but you had to avoid it when anyone
had taken a sword in the gut. She wiped her forehead again and looked up at Gabrielle,
whose grin was being replaced by an anxious frown.
"Xena?
You look like... dryad dung."
The
warrior was surprised into a laugh. That was a new one. "Thanks. That's about what I
feel like. And it's going to get worse before it gets better. This should hold it for a
couple of candlemarks, though. Long enough for you to get us to shelter."
"Me?"
squeaked Gabrielle. "What about you?"
"I'm
going to be too busy being feverish and out of my head. It's going to be up to you to get
us to safety and keep us going for a couple of days until my body fights off the
nasties."
"I'm
a bard, Xena. Not a healer or a scout!"
"Oh,
I'm sorry. I mistook you for the young woman who just removed an arrow from my shoulder.
You know, the one who followed a wicked old warlord all the way from Potadeia to
Amphipolis without so much as a map?"
"Ozymandias!"
"What
about him?"
"He's
a healer. We could catch up with him on the road to Kavala and HE could take care of your
wounds."
"In
the first place, Gabrielle, it will take four or five candlemarks to find Oz-who-sias --
if he hasn't been delayed by more wagon trouble or waylaid by the slavers himself. We need
to get to someplace secure long before that. The place I'm thinking of is a rough ride,
but it's only two candlemarks away."
"But...
you're bleeding and..."
"There's
nothing he can do that you can't, Gabrielle. Absolutely nothing. Besides, my body
recognizes your voice, your touch. If things get as bad as I think they might, I'm likely
to kill or maim anyone else that tries to get near me." She gave a bitter laugh,
remembering times when she'd done just that.
The
bard's voice quavered. "But what if you're hurt worse than you think, Xena? What if
something...? I couldn't get you to Mount Nestos fast enough that time and..."
Xena's
fingers stilled her trembling lips. "This is nothing like that. Except in this
respect: I trust you with my life. You're a very strong, very smart, very competent woman.
I can't think of anyone I'd rather have in charge of taking us to my safehold."
Gabrielle's
eyes flashed, full of equal parts of fear and anger. "If I'm so damned competent, how
is it that you don't allow me to come up with my own plan? 'Take us to my safehold!'
Sounds to me like you're still calling the shots! The Amazons trust me to decide the
destinies of not only themselves individually, but also their nation. Why is it that you
can't trust me to decide what the two of us will do for the next few candlemarks?"
"I
do!" Xena cried. And then, her innate honesty overriding tact: "Sort of..."
"Ah
ha!" said Gabrielle, confronting the warrior, hands on her hips. "'Sort
of'?"
Xena
hesitated. This really wasn't the time for this kind of conversation. She wasn't good at
this kind of thing even when she wasn't bleeding. Gabrielle was strung as tight as a harp.
The slavers could come back at any moment. And yet -- this felt like something they needed
to do, something that would shape their future together. She swallowed nervously and tried
to explain.
"I've
always tended to go things alone, Gabrielle. Even when I was running an army -- especially when I was running an army -- I
required total control, instant obedience. There was only one person I trusted. Me!
Everyone else I just... used." Gabrielle
stirred, started to say something. Xena shook her head.
"It's
the truth, Gabrielle, and you know it. And then one day, I discovered someone else I could
trust, a man who believed that somewhere inside the Destroyer of Nations was a human
being. Someone who could help others as much as she had hurt them. Who wanted to."
"Hercules
showed me the path, Gabrielle, but I always envisioned traveling it by myself.
Alone." She gave a snort. "That lasted about... a day and half. Till I ran into
this stubborn girl from Potadeia who insisted on tagging along with me. I kept her at
first because I was afraid the next cyclops would eat her -- and get terminal
indigestion." Gabrielle smiled, reluctantly, at the memory of the first of her
adventures with Xena. "And then because she had a way of knowing when people needed
rescuing (or causing them to NEED to be rescued). And then because I couldn't imagine
spending my days without her.
"For
most of that time, she let me take the lead -- because I was older, scarier, more
experienced -- or because that's the way we've always done it. And I left it that way, not
because I didn't trust her, but because changing things might upset the balance in our
unlikely relationship. I couldn't take the chance of losing her -- even though it
sometimes gave her the impression, I'm sure, that I didn't think she was as capable as I
was."
She
looked deep into the earnest green eyes across from her. "Truth is, Gabrielle, you're
every bit as capable as I am. Just... different. Your first instinct is always to bring
people together to help. Maybe because you're not aware of your own abilities. Probably
because you're so sure that other people are good and kind. More often than not, they rise
to your expectations. But not always. In this case, I assure you, you don't need anyone
else." Gabrielle started to object. "You may not think so, Gabrielle, but it's
true. You're one of the strongest people I know. And one of the bravest. And one of the
smartest..."
"And
if I really believe that..." Xena sat back with the sense that she was about to do
something unprecedented, yet something she'd probably have occasion to do many times in
the future -- if she were lucky. "You are right,
Gabrielle. And I am wrong. You should choose
the course we take." The bard gawked at her, unsure she had heard her correctly.
"Just
promise me one thing," Xena added. "Go with your gut."
The
bard looked at her blankly. She translated it into words Gabrielle might understand
better.
"I
mean, listen to your heart." She held up a hand to stave off Gabrielle's astonished
protest. "Yeah, I know. Look who's talking, huh? But honestly, Gabrielle, this isn't
something you can weigh on a scale or put on some list, pros here, cons there -- your
skills here, Ozymandias' there -- two candlemarks vs. four. It's... making sure you do
whatever it takes so that, at the end of it all, you know, deep inside" -- she thumped her armored
belly -- "that you did everything you had to."
"I
do that all the time, Xena!"
"With
others, Gabrielle. Not always with me. Because you think I know more than you do."
"I
used to!" the bard retorted.
Her
anger was beginning to abate, Xena saw. Hey! I think
I'm getting the hang of this chat stuff. Let's see how this works...
"And
because I can be a little bit
intimidating..."
"You
try, anyway..." The bard's eyes were
beginning to twinkle now.
"And
a little stuck in my ways."
"Try
pigheaded." The put-down came with an outright grin.
"Just
promise me that you'll do what you really feel is best for me, for us, Gabrielle. Whether
you think I'll approve or not."
"I
promise." Gabrielle leaned forward and touched her forehead to the warrior's. Its
heat alarmed her, but she knew that making a fuss would be counterproductive at this
point. "So... I am right. Right?"
"Right,"
said Xena, preparing herself to endure a modest amount of gloating on the bard's part.
"And
you were wrong, right?"
"Right,"
said Xena, gritting her teeth.
"So...
I get to choose, right?"
"Right.
It's your call," said Xena, vowing to herself that nothing short of an imminent
threat to Gabrielle's life would cause her to break that pledge.
Gabrielle
grinned at her. "So-o-o-o-o-o-h..."
Xena
closed her eyes, admonishing herself to accept whatever the bard's fertile imagination
cooked up.
There
was a tantalizing pause before Gabrielle continued. "Here's the way I see it, then." She took a breath.
"Since we can't be sure of connecting with Ozymandias, we need to take refuge
someplace where the slavers can't find us for a while."
It
didn't make any sense to reject Xena's plan just because it wasn't hers, Gabrielle
realized. The warrior knew the area and her own physical condition better than she did,
and it was clear that she really DID think that Gabrielle was capable of handling whatever
might come along. She watched a relieved smile cross the warrior's face.
"You
wouldn't happen to know a place like that around here, would you, Xena?"
Xena
was not at all complacent about how future encounters of this kind would end up, and she
was careful not to suggest otherwise with her diffident answer.
"As
a matter of fact, Gabrielle, there's a cave about two candlemarks from here. It's got
water and plenty of pasture for Argo. I stocked it to use as a hideaway in case things
ever got too dicey." She stopped.
The
bard nodded, inviting her to elaborate.
"To
get there, you ride down the trail toward Amphipolis until you reach a mountain creek.
Ride up the creek until you see a small
waterfall on your left. Up the bank directly opposite
you'll find a deer trail, near a massive log, I think..."
Things
were getting a bit fuzzy. She shook her head. "Anyway, follow the deer trail up the
slope to a big outcropping of white rock. The cave's entrance is behind it,
camouflaged." She shook her head again, trying to clear it. "Got it?" The pain in her shoulder made her
final words much sharper than she intended them to be.
The
young woman flushed again with anger. "Yes, I got it. What kind of a bard would I be if I
couldn't remember a few simple details like..."
That's
what I get for being civilized,
she glowered, before noting Xena's growing pallor -- and the regret shining in her clear
blue eyes.
"Sorry,"
the warrior whispered. "That's not what I meant. Honest."
Wow,
an admission that she was wrong AND an apology -- all in one day. She must really love me
-- or else she's very, very sick.
She looked at her partner more closely. Or both.
Whatever. We'll talk more about this later. Time to get a move on.
She
gave the warrior a brief smile of forgiveness while mentally reviewing the instructions.
Then she summarized them: "Down the trail toward Amphipolis to a mountain creek. Up
the creek bed until I see a waterfall..."
"On
your left..." Xena prompted. Her eyes were
closed as she concentrated on staying upright and following Gabrielle's synopsis.
"Right,"
the bard replied, hoping to inject a touch of levity into the increasingly somber mood.
Xena's scowl scotched that notion. She returned to her recitation. "On my left. Up the opposite bank to a deer trail and past a fallen
tree to an outcropping of white rock. Behind the rock to the entrance of the cave. About
two candlemarks from here. Okay?!"
Xena
slowly focused on her. "Okay, then." A curt nod indicated her approval of the
bard's summary. "Guess it's time to hit the road!" She extended an arm toward
Gabrielle, asking to be assisted to her feet.
Gabrielle
looked at her in dismay. "Aren't you forgetting something, Xena?" The warrior
looked puzzled. "Your leg?"
CHAPTER
SEVEN
Xena
looked down at her still unbandaged limb.
"Oops!"
She paused. "Tear off another length of that linen. We'll wrap it loosely. The ride
will probably keep jarring it open, but the cloth will keep it clean until you can stitch
it."
Using
Xena's dagger again, Gabrielle cut off a long bandage. Dropping to one knee, she began
looping it around Xena's wound, marveling as she did at how silky the warrior's thigh felt
and how firm and... Confused, she looked up.
"What
did you say, Xena?"
"I
said: 'why did you stop?'"
The
bard looked down and discovered that her hands (Gods!)
were encircling her partner's leg, her thumbs gently stroking its warm surface. She
stammered...
"Ah...
I'm sorry, Xena. It's just... you're so beautiful. I..."
"Don't
be embarrassed, my sweet." Xena laughed dryly at Gabrielle's predicament. "It
certainly bodes well for our old age!"
"What?"
The bard was still in a bit of a daze.
"It's
nice to know you find my body... attractive... even when it's caked with blood, sweaty,
exhausted, and aching. Wrinkles and sags should pose no problem at all!" She patted
the muddy, bloody hand resting on her thigh. It felt like it belonged there, almost as if
it were part of her.
"Believe
me, my bard. I'd give anything to be able to continue this exploration right now. I'd
rather do it for hours on end, however, and that won't be possible if the bad guys ride up
over that ridge and attack us. At this point I don't think I could even beat up
Joxer."
She
cupped Gabrielle's face with her left hand. "But someday... When we're in a safe
place and when we're both healthy..."
Studying
the bard's blushing face, she saw arousal, embarrassment, and... yes, apprehension.
"And
when we're both ready -- then! Then -- I will
give you some details to remember!"
Xena
thumbed the young woman's cheek and tenderly pushed back a lock of red-gold hair. Little does she know that it will probably take longer
for me to be ready for that next step than it
will for her, she thought. As much as she
ached to show Gabrielle how much she loved her, she didn't know if she could assure the
bard that she'd never desire another -- or never act on that desire. And she knew that
Gabrielle would accept nothing less, deserved nothing less.
"Promise?"
The countenance that looked up at her was filled with love, anticipation -- and relief.
"I
promise." She lightly kissed the tip of Gabrielle's nose, almost positive that she
meant what she was saying. "Now finish wrapping that leg and we'll figure out how
you're gonna get me up on Argo. Then we'll start working on Requirement #1: Getting to a
Safe Place."
With
that inducement, the bard returned to her task. In short order, she patted the finished
bandage, gathered up Xena's supplies and replaced them on Argo's back. Grabbing the
halter, she led the palomino back near the rock on which Xena was sitting, now looking a
bit lost.
It
scared Gabrielle more than she wanted to admit to realize that the warrior was not only
putting her in charge, but also willing to let the bard see how sick she really was. At
the same time, that willingness to be vulnerable was somehow reassuring in some convoluted
way. She'd have to figure it out later. They had caves to find, slavers to avoid.
"Okay,
now what?" she asked Xena in a determinedly chipper tone. "I fling you on her
back with a mighty toss? I hoist you up on the rock and you make a frantic leap?"
"Frantic
leaps are your specialty, Gabrielle," the
warrior replied sardonically. "I was thinking of something a bit simpler,
actually."
She
used the bard's staff to push herself to her feet. "Argo!" The palomino swiveled
large brown eyes toward her mistress. Placing two fingers in her mouth, Xena gave a
two-toned whistle that prompted the mare to slowly kneel.
"Hah!
Didn't think you'd ever seen that one,
Gabrielle," she smirked when the bard looked at her in astonishment. "We old
warhorses still have a few tricks up our sleeves, don't we, Argo?"
Using
the staff as a kind of cane, Xena hobbled slowly forward. When she reached the side of her
four-footed friend, she frowned. "Uh oh, this is going to take some figuring."
She
didn't think her injured leg could bear her weight for the time it would take to swing the
right one over Argo's broad back. And her right hand and arm certainly weren't going to be
strong enough to grasp the horn and pull her onto the saddle.
"Allow
me!" Gabrielle grabbed Argo's reins, brought the horse to her feet, turned her around
and led her back. When she tried to replicate Xena's whistle, however, the mare just
gawped at her.
"Almost,
Gabrielle. The second note needs to be a bit lower."
The
bard whistled again, and this time, after glancing at Xena for confirmation, the horse
once more knelt, presenting her right side to the warrior this time. Well, it was
unconventional, Xena mused, but she'd trained the warhorse to allow her to mount from
virtually every direction -- just as she'd trained herself to use her weapons with both
hands -- and her teeth and toes if possible.
Haven't
done this in a while, though -- and never while Argo was kneeling. Ah well, nothing
ventured...
Xena
limped as close as she could to the mare. Nestling her right foot against the golden
belly, she handed the staff to Gabrielle and grabbed the horn with her left hand. Before
the bard could stop her, she swung her injured leg up and over -- almost. The weakened
left leg failed to clear the back of the saddle. After slamming into the hard leather, it
rebounded painfully. Xena would have toppled backwards had not Gabrielle caught the leg
and lifted it quickly over and down, bringing Xena to rest behind the saddle. The warrior
gasped and fought to clear a galaxy of stars from her vision.
"Damn
it, Xena! Give me a little warning, will ya? I was going to help you get on, you..."
"It's
all right, Gabrielle. Really!" She blew out a breath. "It's probably just as
well to get the agony over all at once!"
Then
she realized where she was sitting.
"
'Course, now I have to figure out how to ease myself into the saddle without passing
out." She winced. "No problem. I'll just..." She braced herself for the
effort.
"Oh
no, you don't, Warrior Princess. I get the front seat this time!"
"Gabrielle!"
The exclamation had a note of outrage in it.
"Correct
me if I'm wrong, oh Mighty One. Did you or did you not put me in charge of getting us to
your safehold?"
Trying
to ignore the throbbing that was building in her leg and the fresh blood seeping through
the bandage, Xena reluctantly nodded: "Did."
"That
means I have to see where we're going, Miss-I'm-a-Better-Door-Than-a-Window. And that
means I have to sit up front, right?"
"Right,
Your Runtiness," replied Xena with a lot of spunk, but a conspicuous lack of volume.
Gabrielle
cut short the banter after a glance at Xena's face. It was as pale as parchment.
"Okay,
then. As Treeza would say, 'Let's get this show on the road!'" She gave Xena's sword
a quick wipe and sheathed it for her and put her staff in its loop on the saddle. A fast
circuit of the field of battle made sure they were leaving nothing behind. Gabrielle
maneuvered herself into the saddle in front of Xena. After she gathered up the reins, the
warrior gave Argo the command to rise.
Hampered
by the double load, the palomino lurched up and forward, stumbling a few steps before
coming to a halt. Feeling Xena listing to one side, Gabrielle reached hurriedly behind her
and grabbed a handful of breast armor, pulling her back into balance.
"C'mon,
Xena. Get with the program! Wrap your arm around me. Tighter! That's right..."
Xena
snaked her good arm around Gabrielle's torso, settling a broad hand on the bard's
well-toned -- and toasty -- abdomen. "Umm, feels good..."
"Tell
me about it," said Gabrielle, an unfamiliar but very pleasant glow enveloping her
from head to toe. I could get used to this. Oh yeah! "Lean
on me if you get tired. And let me know how you're doing now and then. Okay?
"Okay..."
The sick and weary warrior rested her head lightly on Gabrielle's shoulder. It felt so
good, that contact, that connection. "Love you," she muttered. She didn't know,
she realized, if she were capable of living that love, at least the way Gabrielle
expected, even if the rest of the world allowed it to be. Still, it was important to
acknowledge the emotion, however frail or transient. Gabrielle deserved to know, whether
or not that knowledge eventually led to heartbreak and despair.
It might not, she reasoned. Never before have things felt this... right. With
that comforting thought, she let herself drift off.
"Love
you, too, Xena," replied the bard, with a catch in her throat. "Nighty
night."
Okay,
thought Gabrielle. Things were going to be o-kay.
She would get them to Xena's safehold, stitch up her leg, and watch over her recovery. And
then... Well, it was too soon to start thinking about that. It would be some time yet
before they were ready to proceed to the next step in their relationship. Even though her
partner had spectacular powers of recuperation, Xena had lost a lot of blood. She needed
time to mend. And not just physically. She seemed to have something on her mind. There was
no way to get at it, probably, until the warrior was more rested.
I
could use a little rest myself. When was the
last time I slept? Gods! To think that it was just last night I was agonizing about how
all this was going to turn out! Much good that did... somehow it never occurred to me to
worry about runaway wagons and actors and fortune tellers and slavers and Xena scaling a
40-foot cliff to save me...
"Well,
as Xena would say, 'First things first.' C'mon, Argo." She pointed the palomino down
the path to Xena's hideaway. The big horse moved out surely and steadily. "We've got
promises to keep and leagues to go before we sleep."
Have
to write that down when I get a chance. Fits so well with Argo's gait. Hope I can remember
it...
Argo
moved forward, striding steadily through bars of dark and light created by the afternoon
sun and the tall trees beside the road. Gabrielle gently stroked the strong arm wrapped
around her waist and then went back to trying to find the rest of the words of that poem.
They were just waiting for her to recognize them, she knew.
And
when she did, she would inscribe them with her quill on crisp clean parchment. On the
brand new scroll on which she would chronicle the adventures of this day and all that
followed. A scroll that she now knew held many more pleasant possibilities than she had
ever dared to imagine.
THE
END
Mail
Medora
_____________________________________________________________
DISCLAIMERS
/ THE NOVELLA
Legal Disclaimer: Xena: Warrior Princess,
Gabrielle, Argo and all other characters who have appeared in the syndicated series Xena:
Warrior Princess are the sole copyright property of MCA/Universal and Renaissance
Pictures. No copyright infringement was intended in the writing of this fan fiction.
Copies of this story may be made for private use only and must include all copyright
notices and disclaimers.
All
other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.
Resemblance to persons living, dead, or fictional is strictly coincidental, as far as I
know. If anything here resembles something previously published, it is strictly
unconscious. Let me know and I'll fix it.
Resemblance
of any poetry to that of my friend, Bob (Frost, that is), is intentional, but is not aimed
at monetary gain and should be construed as a compliment. The name Ozymandias owes a
little something to a poem of the same name by Percy Bysshe Shelley -- and to a
"wiz" of a book written 100 years ago by L. Frank Baum. Ozymandias is the Greek
name of the Egyptian king, Rameses the Second (1290 to 1223 B.C.).
Subtext: You betcha. Why? Because the story gets a
lot more interesting and complex if Xena and Gabrielle share more than platonic love. You
know, just like real life. But PG-13 in this particular case. So -- just to make it
official: This story depicts a love/sexual relationship between two consenting adult
women. If you are under 18 years of age or if this type of story is illegal in the state
or country in which you live, please do not read it. If depictions of this nature disturb
you, you may wish to read something other than this story.
Violence: Yep. She slices, she dices, she severs
and impales -- but no more than on the TV show. And no one dies who didn't really, really deserve it. Again, pretty much PG-13.
There
are scenes of hurt/comfort appropriate for the story line.
Timeline: Set early in Season Three, before Dahak
and the Rift stories. Why? Because angst is very, very hard to write. And unlike the great
and powerful Good (Melissa, that is -- also known as the Greater Good), I haven't figured
out how to deal with that traumatic period or if I want to. Maybe I'll tackle it after I
get a little better at this -- or maybe I'll just ignore it altogether.
Language Alerts: Sentence fragments aren't the end
of the Known World. Really. But if you want people to truly understand what you meant to
say, spelling matters -- and so does punctuation. All my subjects and verbs are in
agreement -- I think. If you find any that are bickering behind my back, let me know. I'll
straighten 'em out.
Vulgarities: No expletives stronger than damn.
Unless you're of the opinion that "hydra poop" actually does exist -- and are
offended by it.
Medical Malpractice Alert: What little I know
about the realities of ancient medical practices, I learned at http://www.indiana.edu/~ancmed/concepts.HTM
Within this tale, wine is used for medicinal purposes -- and applied externally. Fewerfew,
mugwort, pumpkin seeds, senna, and comfrey are all natural ingredients (probably
certifiably organic, come to think of it) with medicinal properties. While using any of
these substances in moderation probably won't kill you, you are advised to study a
reputable book on alternative medicine beforehand. In any case, it's a REALLY good idea to
consult a doctor ANY time an arrow or germy sword pierces your body.
A Little Knowledge: Is a dangerous thing. Case in
point: my knowledge of Greek geography. I've never been there, but I have looked closely
at a map. With the result that I had to totally rewrite whole passages to get the real
places of Potadeia, Amphipolis, Mount Nestos and Kavala correctly oriented with one
another. All other places are fictitious. Their names -- and the names of many of the
non-XWP characters here -- were found in an atlas of the U.S. My thanks to the states of
Colorado, Montana, Wyoming, the Dakotas, and Minnesota and several western Canadian
provinces for their colorfully named places.
My Heartfelt Thanks: To my sister, the bank vice
president, for allowing me to borrow the pen name we're going to use if we ever follow
through on our plan to write trashy romances. To the incomparable Lunacy, for providing a
list of beta readers (http://lunacyreviews.com/beta.shtm). To my beta readers: Gin, author
of a wonderful Xena the Conqueror series, who counseled me to slow things down a bit; my
son, David, a fellow Xenaphile, who giggled in the right places; and my spouse, Ken, who
provided some extremely helpful advice based on his experience in courting of one of the
world's most inscrutable and elusive of women. And to Midget and to MaryD for putting the
end product on their wonderful websites, where they can be read (and enjoyed, I hope) by
thousands of fellow fans.
Inspirations: The music of Lucy Kaplansky
(http://www.lucykaplansky.com), Ann Reed (http://hometown.aol.com/AnnReed/home.html), Kate
Wolf, Bonnie Raitt, -- and Tom Paxton. The mythic cowgirl art
(http://www.snowgoosegallery.com/gwartis/howdon.htm) of Donna Howell-Sickles. And the
example of my mother, who marked the approach of her 50th birthday by taking flying
lessons and going white water rafting.
First Time Alert: No, not theirs. Mine. This is my first piece of fan
fiction. I've never even written fiction before. (Oh wait! I work in PR and marketing --
scratch that last sentence.) So, in the inimitable words of Llachlan, "if reading
someone's first piece scares you as much as posting it scares me, skip this one."
Feedback is welcome. Just... be nice. I've got more stories in me (and outlined). They
won't come out if they're scared.
Feedback: Send your compliments, comments, and
constructive criticism to medoramacd@yahoo.com.