Disclaimers: The characters in this story are the property of Renaissance Pictures. The story itself is my property. It depicts a love between two women, so don’t read it if that’s going to bother you.

This takes place during that year in "Return of the Valkyrie" when Gabrielle is catching up on all that sleep she must have missed because of Eve’s 3 a.m. diaper changes.

Comments can be sent to Ambyrhawke@aol.com



Spirit Walkings


Ambyrhawke Shadowsinger

Copyright December 20, 2000 Ambyrhawke Shadowsinger

All Rights Reserved


My eyes open, and I sit up slowly, blinking sleep from my eyes. Looking over my shoulder, I can see my body as it remains deep in slumber. I know by now that only my spirit awakens at these times.

At least, I hope that’s what is happening. I could just be dreaming all of this, but I pray for these spirit walkings to be true. I don’t think I could handle anything else, for that would mean…. It would mean I know nothing of what is going on.

I have no true idea of how much time passes between these moments when I am aware of the outside world. My eyes seem to only open at night. The darkness of the sky and light of Brunhilda’s flame are the only constants of my surroundings. I can see the stars and moon change overhead. The moon travels its course so slowly that I suspect my awareness…or my dreams…whatever these may be…are a nightly occurrence. Through the flames, the trees of the bog have budded and grown leaves. My hair flows over the rock upon which my body lies; falling passed my shoulders. Taken together, I estimate half a year has gone by since I last saw Xena.

My emotions are so conflicted where Xena is concerned. I fear for her…out there somewhere without any memory of who she is or who I am. Yet at the same time, I have complete faith that she will come for me. Death has repeatedly been unable to keep us apart, what is a mere curse of the Rheingold? No, even Brunhilda had enough faith in Xena to believe she would someday return to take me out of this prison of sleep and flames. And these dreams must mean something….

Off in the distance, I hear someone approaching. Turning toward the sound, my heart begins racing. A form emerges out of the mist, taking shape before my eyes as it crests the hill at the edge of the flames’ light. Xena….

"Oh please let her be real this time," I pray to whatever gods might be listening. How many times have I seen her come to me just like this? Like a beautiful queen in a rich gown of white…. Like a bride on her wedding day….

Xena cautiously takes a step closer, and I can see her struggling to see through the fire. She gasps when her gaze finds my body. I can only hope it is a gasp of recognition.

I know she can’t hear me, but my voice will not remain silent. I whisper to her, for I can do nothing more from within this ring. "Oh Xena, I miss you…I need you….I love you so."

My prayers are not to be answered this night as I see Xena vanish, leaving me all alone. So she was only a dream again. My breath begins to form a sigh, but explodes into a sob rending my soul in two. My knees buckle under the wave of despair I can feel coming from both of us. Sinking to the ground, I bury my face against my knees, crying out the frustration of my plight.

For a moment, the world seems to shift sideways before settling back again. Peeking up with tear-swollen eyes, I find myself in a bedchamber I have seen many times before. I have come to expect this as the natural progression of the nightly dream. I hear Xena’s sobbing even as I rise to my feet. If these dreams be truth, then my heart can take comfort from the fact that she is safe and obviously being cared for.

Yet the sight of her pain proves almost too much to bear. Each time I see her, I can tell she is hurting more than ever before. How many days can we keep going like this?

Crawling up on the bed with my lost warrior, I sink into the space of her arms just as she pulls a pillow to her chest. I hold on as tightly as possible and murmur soft words of comfort. It matters not that she can’t hear me. The idle caress of her fingers sliding through my hair eases the pain within each of our restless souls. All too soon, we settle down into her bed. Morpheous cradles both person and spirit deeply within his embrace.

On the edge of awareness, I feel my spirit return to my body in the bog. I know Xena’s spirit stands outside of the fire, remaining close to mine. My heart once again whispers to hers, "I miss you…I need you….I love you."

Our voices mingle through the flames, "Please…save me."

The end

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