Xena: Warrior Princess, Gabrielle, Argo and all other characters who have appeared in the syndicated series Xena: Warrior Princess, together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MCA/Universal and Renaissance Pictures. No copyright infringement was intended in the writing of this fan fiction. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author. This story cannot be sold or used for profit in any way. Copies of this story may be made for private use only and must include all disclaimers and copyright notices.
This story depicts a love/sexual relationship between 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 and consider moving so someplace less backwards. If depictions of this nature disturb you, you may wish to read something other than this story. This story depicts scenes around the campfire that follows some Xena episodes you’ve seen and one you haven’t. It occurred to me that the campfire scenes in Xena were really some of the best vehicles to explore the evolving relationship of Xena and Gabrielle. As for “universe” this is the same Xena and Gabrielle that show up later in The Resurrection of Xena and Fifteen Years In America.
Started on 7/21/2019
Finished on 3/1/2020
I followed as close as I dared, although I suspect the Warrior Princess knew I was behind her. Honestly, after her fight with Draco, I’d be surprised if there was anything this woman couldn’t do. We traveled some distance from the populated parts of Amphipolis, past the farms and sheep herders to an isolated stretch of forest near the Strymon River. The insects here were bothersome but I knew smoke from a fire would provide some relief. As I gathered some sticks and kindling, I was struck by how woefully unprepared I was for my new life. I didn’t have a fire starter and despite never having luck with rubbing sticks together, gave it my best shot anyhow. It wasn’t long before I became frustrated with the futility of my efforts. In that moment, the breeze shifted, bringing with it the scent of Xena’s cooking fire, smelling of rabbit and aromatics. Unbidden, my stomach growled longingly. Hoping that Xena still felt that she owed me for saving her life, I followed the scent to her campsite.
I made my way into the clearing and came face to face with the pointy end of Xena’s sword. I jumped, and she instantly lowered it.
“I was going to follow you, until you were in some jam.” I offered as disarmingly as I could. “It’s so cold out here, I couldn’t get a fire started, and the mosquitos are as big as eagles!”
I saw Xena’s eyes roll a bit as she moved to make space for me across the fire from her. As we both sat down, I was immediately grateful for the warmth it provided.
“You know, I’m sending you home in the morning,” she replied, tossing another piece of wood onto the cheery flame.
This stung more than it probably should have. We didn’t really know each other, but I felt that I saw something in Xena that she did not show to just anyone. She was unguarded with me at her brother’s tomb. That couldn’t have not meant something, right? It was now or never, and I needed to make her understand.
“I won’t stay home.” I said emphatically. “I don’t belong there, Xena. I’m not the little girl that my parents wanted me to be. You wouldn’t understand.” It was hard to look across the fire at this stunningly beautiful woman who feared no one and could do the impossible.
Xena caught my eye before answering. “It’s not easy proving you’re a different person.” She tossed me her bedroll and nodded. “You can sleep over there.”
I looked down at the blankets and back at her. “But what will you use?” I was genuinely concerned; it was cold.
She didn’t seem the least bit worried. “I’ll be fine.” She offered nothing more. Then she was quiet for a moment, considering something.
“I won’t send you home, Gabrielle, but I think you should return home. You have a family, a gentle soul you’re betrothed to, and a village that won’t get raided any time soon. My journey is going to be hard and dangerous, and I can’t guarantee you won’t get hurt.”
I tried to keep my response light. “I have a few dinars. At the next town I can get a bedroll and some things I might need. I’m pretty good at finding a bargain.”
By now, the rabbit had finished cooking and Xena busied herself with dividing it up, handing me the larger portion. My stomach rumbled in gratitude. She passed the meat over with a look that made it clear she still expected an answer to her unspoken question –
why I wanted to stay with her.
“Potidaea is fine,” I started. “It’s lovely if you fit in. If you have no more ambition than your neighbor and no desire to do anything different than what your family has done for generations. That isn’t me. This rabbit is delicious by the way,” The last part was through a mouthful of meat. I chewed and continued.
“And it’s more than just not fitting in. I feel things, I see things, I understand things beyond what our family and friends are comfortable with. I ask questions, I have desires,” Xena looked at me with her intense blue eyes and I immediately felt myself blush. “Desire to know things,” I hastily clarified. “An oracle of Aphrodite once came to town and said I had the gift of sight, of prophecy,” Xena arched her eyebrow at that and I had to chuckle. “I’m not saying she was right mind you; I’m just telling you what she said. Anyway, it was just one more reason for people to think I was different, crazy even.”
Xena offered me her water skin. “You don’t seem crazy to me,” she said softly, then corrected herself. “A little crazy maybe – you want to travel with me.”
~~~~~~
As Gabrielle passed the water skin back to me, I saw so many emotions cross her face. She was frightened, she was unsure, but above all, she was determined. Perhaps I was making too much of this. A day or two of sleeping rough on the ground coupled with never being sure if you were going to eat or not would probably have her asking me for directions back to Potidaea within the week. When that day comes, I would take her there myself to be certain that no harm would come to her.
We continued to eat in silence, listening to the sounds of night and the fire. I couldn’t help but notice how her hair glowed in the fire light. How the flame brought out the red. Unconsciously, I touched the back of my head where Hector hit me with the pommel of his sword, knocking me to the ground. He’d only gotten in the shot because the sight of Gabrielle had so distracted and captivated me. Unbidden, memories of my past partners, both willing and not, surfaced. In my mind’s eye, I relived debaucherously heady nights filled with hedonistic passion. Gabrielle was beautiful. I shut my eyes against the pictures I was painting in my mind of seducing her. This was something I needed to keep at bay just as much as the killing and violence.
“Are you okay?” Gabrielle asked, worry in her voice.
“I’m fine,” I replied automatically and then inwardly winced at my tone. “It’s just a headache,” I added, my voice softer, kinder. “It’s been a long day.”
She nodded, having finished her meal, and went about setting up the bedroll where I’d indicated. I watched her as she worked, efficiently clearing a space for herself as if she’d been doing it for years. I had to admit that a night spent sitting in the cold would probably do me a world of good. She used her bag as a pillow and pulled my blanket over her, not opting to undress. It was cold, even if I’d been on my own and had the blanket, I might have left my leathers on.
I knocked the fire back a bit, in part for safety, but also to give me a reason not to stare in her direction. As she pulled the blanket around her, she inhaled deeply and visibly relaxed, the rhythmic breathing of sleep following soon after. I felt unsarcastically self-conscious. Did my bed roll smell like me? If it did, why did I care if Gabrielle noticed? She rode behind me on Argo, I’d felt her arms around my waist and her face at my back Surely she knew what I smelled like.
Putting those thoughts aside, I pulled my sharpening stone from Argo’s saddle bag. I would keep watch; I would focus on a task as natural to me as breathing. I would steadfastly not think superficial thoughts about this woman I hardly knew. The morning would bring light, it would bring clarity and more likely than not, it would bring my companion a step closer to her home where she belonged.
“Would you mind finding some wood?” I asked as we stopped for the night. “Like, the kind you find on the ground that you don’t have to hack with a sword?” I added teasingly.
Gabrielle chuckled. I enjoyed that she didn’t take herself too seriously and could tolerate some good-natured ribbing.
“Oh no Warrior Princess, I’ve learned to stay well away from swords, I’ll tell you,” she replied as she set off to look around our campsite, which was situated at the far end of the valley. There were some gentle hills to the distance on left and some steeper cliffs to the right. We’d stopped just inside a small copse of birch trees; it was lovely.
“Where are we anyway?” she called from the trees.
“There is a kingdom, oh, about a day’s ride to the left. I can’t remember the name of the king. Gregor, maybe? I’m not sure, it’s been a long time since I came by this way. I know there is a river that we can follow that leads there. I’d make my way to the river tonight to catch dinner but Akton made sure we had so many supplies…”
“I know,” Gabrielle agreed, returning with an armful of sticks. “I’m amazed that Argo could carry it all.”
“We should eat up the perishables before they turn,” I suggested. “There is some meat, as well as some bread and cheese.”
“That sounds wonderful.” She deposited the wood and began the search for some rocks.
I watched her go and realized I was smiling. I’ve smiled more since meeting Gabrielle than I have in years. I couldn’t help but wonder though, after our adventure with the misguided Mystics of Morpheus, about the inherent danger Gabrielle faced at my side. Granted, she’d face danger wherever she was – the world is a dangerous place – but I’d be kidding myself to think I didn’t attract additional risk. Still, she’d made it clear she had no desire to stay in Potidaea. Given that, she was safer with me than on her own.
Argo knickered, shaking me out of my reverie. I set about removing her saddle and grabbed the brush from her saddle bag.
“Sorry, girl, I was distracted.” I apologized, receiving a disapproving snort in reply. “Oh, come on, you’ll get used to her, just wait and see. I think I have.” My mare turned her head to look at me and I smiled in return. She snorted again and turned away. Apparently, she would be a harder sell.
I brushed Argo in long measured strokes. It was a meditative end to my day that I cherished. The time to be alone with my thoughts and sort through the day’s events was invaluable. Once upon a time, I may have used the time to strategize, but no more. I took each day as it unfolded and tried to do what good I could to maybe someday tip scales that at this point were weighted very heavily against me. My mind wandered.
“It’s not like your breasts aren’t dangerous enough,” she’d said to me when I took the breast dagger from her. I wasn’t sure why, but that memory made me grin each time I recalled it. Maybe because it was just one of the clever things Gabrielle said. She was smart, that one. More than once I’d been impressed with her ability to talk herself out of a situation. The encounter with mystics being the most recent. She talked her way past a cyclops, defended me in front of a village’s council… she was smart and quick, I had to grant her that. Beyond that, I suppose I had to admit that I was flattered she’d noticed my breasts. Noticed enough to say something. It wasn’t exactly flirtatious, but it wasn’t exactly not flirtatious either.
Listen to me, carrying on like a smitten child. I also realized that it had been much too long since I’d had anyone’s hands on my breasts. Something I might want to remedy soon, if I found someone up for a quick tumble. Deciding that erotic thoughts were not what I needed flooding my mind right before Gabrielle and I had our supper, I decided to once again refocus.
“This looks nice,” she’d said about my costume in the dreamscape. At first, I was puzzled by the garments. Upon reflection though, I suppose it made sense. After Cortese and everything that came after, my time in Chin with Lao Ma was the first glimmer of light my soul had seen in years. While I wasn’t ready to change then, I think the seed was planted that perhaps change would someday be possible. I could not pass by a finely woven silk and not think of my beautiful mentor from that far away land.
“Whenever you’re ready Xena,” Gabrielle called to me cheerfully from the fire.
“I’ll be right there,” Argo nickered as I proceeded to check her hooves for signs of strain or anything caught in her shoes. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to shortchange you,” I reassured my companion. Taking a moment to stroke her face and give her a quick kiss on the nose, I joined Gabrielle at the fire. Next to time with my mare at the end of the day, nothing pleased me more than quiet evenings with my traveling companion. Usually, Gabrielle did most of the talking. I’d heard much about her village and her opinions on nearly everything. It wasn’t completely one-sided. She got me to talk, and probably more so than anyone in recent memory. Even if it was just the events of the day, or the region we might be in or my opinions about what to look for when buying a saddle, Gabrielle had a way of drawing it out. I could tell she was conscious about pushing too hard, leaving my past in the past. I appreciated it. My darkness was something I wanted very much to shield her from as much as possible. It was enough that I was a warrior and did a fair amount of my talking with my fists, sword, and chakram.
I approached our campsite and smiled. In no time at all my friend had mastered the art of fire building. A neat ring of stones circled the bright orange and yellow flame made from neatly stacked wood. She’d brewed some tea and was cooking the fresh meat we’d been given. “I found this in with the supplies,” she announced and handed me a fresh cloth, oil and a high quality sharpening stone.
“That was very kind of Akton,” I said, taking a seat.
~~~~~
“You have that effect on people,” I replied and she looked at me with a puzzled expression. “Silly,” I chided her. “You saved the whole valley.” I waved my arm in the direction we’d traveled to indicate all of it. “They won’t have to send their daughters away when there’s a solstice. You’re really heroic, ya know?”
It almost seemed to me like the Warrior Princess was blushing. She looked away, embarrassed. “Why do you do that?” I asked and immediately hoped I’d not overstepped. “You do really heroic things and seem uncomfortable by the credit.”
She smiled at me sadly. “Let’s just say I have a lot to make up for, Gabrielle.”
“I mean, how bad can it be?”
Her eyes got a little colder. “I hope you don’t have to find out,” she said crisply. As if to end the conversation, she withdrew the breast dagger from her…well…breasts and began to sharpen it with the stone and oil.
“How do you keep from cutting your…ah…cutting yourself?” I asked, happy to change the subject if meant she’d be more comfortable and more open to talking. Xena is so shrouded in mystery. She keeps things so closed off. Any detail about her life helps me see her more fully, and it’s just something I’m compelled to do.
She glanced over to me, smirking. “You don’t think I have blade resistant breasts?” she asked sweetly.
Oh gods, she’s talking about her breasts. “It wouldn’t surprise me.” She chuckled. I like it when I can get her to do that.
“Actually, there’s a leather sheath built into my armor.” She leaned forward showing me a gap in her bodice, exposing a great deal of cleavage in the process. “I had a breast dagger for this and it went missing…”
“Went missing?” I asked, furiously trying not to stare or blush.
“Well, this warlord I’d stabbed with it went over a cliff and I didn’t feel like climbing down to go after it.”
We were quiet a moment, the only sound besides the fire was the rhythmic scraping of the small blade on the stone. I found it soothing, like something I could fall asleep to.
I portioned our meat from the fire, making them as even as I could. I’d always put the skewers down on one of our two plates and without a doubt if there were a difference in size, she’d leave me the larger portion. The bread was fresh and I’d been warming it on a rock near the blaze, just enough to crisp the outside edges. I handed her a piece and she smiled happily.
“I love fresh bread,” she said, taking a bite.
I smiled in return. This was my favorite time with Xena. I found her the most at ease and unguarded when she’d just finished brushing Argo and sitting down to a decent meal. If we could avoid any thugs from discovering our campsite, I’d no doubt it’d be an enjoyable evening.
“What was your dreamscape like?” I asked conversationally. I knew the mechanics of how she’d come to my rescue, but not the specifics of her journey there.
Xena looked thoughtful, like she was debating how much to tell me. “It was surreal, like you’d expect a dreamscape to be, I guess. Morpheus was sending memories of my unpleasant past to distract and delay me and I had to keep focus that it was my dreamscape, that I was in charge of it. Finally, he sent the worst version of myself, and I realized that facing that – facing my darkest self- was the key to breaking out of the dream and getting to the tower where you were.”
“Was it frightening?”
She shook her head, her dark hair gently framing her face, those piercing blue eyes looking at me, filled with sadness and regret.
“It didn’t play on fear as much as it played on my guilt and shame for who I used to be.” She shrugged. “But like that rock in the lake, my bad parts are forever part of who I am even though I’ve moved past it.”
I smiled at her in what I hoped was a reassuring way. “I like who you are. However, many rocks there may be under your surface.”
“Thank you, Gabrielle.” She said, almost shyly.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about our conversation at the lake this morning. I really did hear what you said. But I’m also serious about what I said earlier as well.” She frowned, so I rushed on. “I do want to be able to defend myself, not to kill, but to…defend. I know you don’t need my help in a fight, but there may come a time when you can’t get to me for the rescue.”
“Termin,” She said, sadly.
“Who?” I asked, wondering what we were now talking about.
“Termin is the name of the first person I killed,” She said, her voice neutral. “He was one of Cortese’s men and he came through Ampholipis’s defenses at the front gate. I killed him before he could get to Lyceus…”
“But someone else got to him,” I supplied, knowing was the battle in which her brother was killed.
She nodded sadly. “Yeah. My point is Gabrielle, that all these years later, I remember Termin, I remember all of them. Those are not memories that I ever want you to have to carry around in that pretty little head of yours.”
By the gods again, she called me pretty! “Um…yeah…” I stammered, trying to keep my composure, “I see your point.” She gave me a puzzled look and I put a large hunk of bread in my mouth so I wouldn’t have to talk for a bit.
“Get a grip, Gabrielle.” I told myself. I had no idea what was going on with me. She could give me a look and I’d feel this warmth radiate through me, straight to a blush at my cheeks, and I’d have no control over it. Why should it matter if she thought I was pretty? Chances were, she was just using that expression and that she didn’t give any thought to my looks, comely or otherwise. But something in me wanted her to. I wanted her to find me pretty. I wanted her to look at me, want to travel with me, and want our nights by the fire to mean as much to her as they meant to me.
“At least think about it?” she urged again, nudging me playfully in the shoulder.
I nodded, desperate to find a more neutral topic for conversation that wouldn’t invite more comments that would make me blush. My eyes landed on the saddle bag with the rest of our dinner.
“So, cheeses? Do you have a favorite?”
“As a matter of fact,” she replied with an indulgent chuckle, “I do. I had an amazing manouri once at a temple of Aristaios. Do you have a favorite?”
“Do I?” I said, feeling foolish but going with it anyway. “Let me tell you about this cheese monger in Potidaea and the time he got three of his goats stuck in a tree…”
“You know, you were really brave today- taking care of Iolaus the way you did.” I gazed over the fire as I spoke, feeling my heart lurch with the bashful grin I received in return. Since Hercules and Iolaus had departed, Gabrielle had been unusually quiet and more than once as we’d set up camp, I noticed she averted her eyes when I’d caught them. We’d eaten in near silence which was unusual for my chatty companion although I was grateful for the quiet to try and sort out my own jumble of feelings brought by the day’s events.
She didn’t know it, but I saw Iolaus kiss her. I also saw that she didn’t recoil from him. It was as it should be I suppose. She needs to find someone who would be an appropriate match for her. More appropriate than Iolaus certainly, he is older and more worldly than she needs. At the very least it is a reminder to keep an iron clad grip on my own growing feelings for my companion. It has been a long time since I’d had my physical needs met, longer still since I’ve had them met by a woman. And traveling with a companion, well, the time for self-pleasure isn’t exactly readily available.
When I am honest with myself, I know that the path before me should be a solitary one. Too much darkness clings to me from choices I have made. The things I’ve done, things I’ve seen, and things I failed to stop. When I close my eyes, images of death and violence haunt me which is no less than I deserve although since Gabrielle began traveling with me that burden has been lighter to bear. Still, she should follow her own path whether it leads her; be that becoming a bard or marrying a man worthy of her.
“You seem lost in thought tonight,” Gabrielle commented, drawing me from my silence. I glanced over only to be struck by her beauty once more. It was a beauty that grew from the inside, making its way out, radiating incandescently. “I thought you might still be mad about that thing with the Titans…”
I shook my head and smiled. “No, I think you’ve learned your lesson about reading from random scrolls.”
She nodded. “I guess it was hard to have Hercules leave then?” she asked. I could hear uncertainty in her voice.
There it was. I had hoped she’d seen me kiss my friend goodbye. After seeing her with Iolaus, I wanted her to know that I could have feelings for men too. I don’t know why I’ve been preoccupied with this. Simultaneously, I don’t really care if she knows I’m drawn to women as well as men romantically and at the same time I think that if she sees me as interested in men that will somehow make me safer to be around. I don’t have romantic feelings for Hercules. Certainly not at the moment, but things between Gabrielle and myself are growing ever more intimate. Not romantic, I’m sure such suggestions would horrify my companion, but the more time we spend together, the reassuring touches on an arm or the back become more frequent and linger. Half the time we use each other’s bedrolls, just grabbing whichever is closest when it’s time to sleep. I’m embarrassed to admit that falling asleep with her scent near me is comforting. I shook my thoughts away to focus. Realizing that I’d not responded to her question, I forced a smile.
“I’m sure we will see him again, and Iolaus too.”
She frowned and looked troubled. “What’s the matter?” I asked.
Gabrielle was quiet a moment before answering; she seemed to be deciding how much to tell me. “When we were in the mountain, in the caves, I told Iolaus a story to take his mind off his injury. It was something I’d heard from a traveling bard back home. Anyway, I think he misunderstood the tale and thought that I was talking about him perhaps but after he woke up, he said he didn’t remember it. I just got the feeling before he left that he might not have been honest about that.”
“What was the story about?”
She hesitated a moment. “It was about people finding their soul mate.”
“I can see why you wouldn’t want him taking it personally – if it wasn’t intended that way.”
“I know!” she agreed. “He’s a nice guy, but I hardly know him, and he’s Hercules’ companion, AND he’s almost as old as my father I’m sure.”
She was quiet a moment more, then softly asked, “Do you believe in soul mates?”
I shrugged. “I think you first need to have a soul, one that is clean at any rate.
“Do you think Hercules and Iolaus are soul mates?” I must have looked embarrassed at her question, because she quickly added, “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t even thinking of you and Hercules. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sure he still loves you very much.”
I couldn’t stop myself from laughing and was happy to see her visibly relax. “No, no, no, It’s okay Gabrielle. Hercules was there for me at a time when I needed…someone. He helped me take a good look at what I’d become and helped give me the strength to start changing, but we aren’t like that. Just good friends.”
“Kissing friends, apparently.” Gabrielle muttered under her breath. I was grateful that she let the topic of souls and their cleanliness drop.
“Yes,” I confirmed, “kissing friends.” She smiled, a little embarrassed perhaps that I’d heard her mutter to herself and again a felt a heat that was not from our cooking fire.
“Why did you pick that tale to tell Iolaus?” I asked, hoping that the sounds of conversation would keep my prurient thoughts at bay.
Inwardly, I prayed to Aphrodite to keep the embarrassment off my face. It was an innocent enough question. Had I the strength of Hercules, I would have picked that moment to tell Xena that I’d been talking about us. That I felt some kind of bond, something indescribable between us. But I’d seen her with the legendary demigod, and she is so beautiful and…and I am nothing. If Aphrodite didn’t answer my prayer and keep the embarrassment off my face, Hermes came through and gave me an alternative answer quickly.
“I’m sure Iolaus is tired of hearing heroic stories, given who he travels with,” I began, in what I hoped was a smooth tone. “I didn’t think the time was appropriate for a comedy, or scary story so that just left…”
“Romance?” She inquired dryly. And I had to chuckle. Then she asked, “do you want to tell me the story? I like romance.” I nearly died. Fortunately, I’d just taken a drink from our water skin so my choking and sputtering gave me a moment to think.
“Another time perhaps,” I demurred. “Did traveling bards visit Amphipolis?” I asked instead, hoping a change of subject would save me. As soon as I’d said it, I worried that her expression would darken. The weeks we’d spent together let me know that there were subjects she was sensitive about but I’d not yet learned enough about my beautiful companion to always know what might be dangerous territory. Fortunately, she smiled, the remembrance seeming to be a happy one.
“Since my mother had the tavern, we were fortunate to have bards come through on occasion. I remember one fellow who was especially good. Lyceus and I sat all afternoon listening to him instead of going fishing, which was one of our favorite pastimes.” I watched as her blue eyes lit up at the memory, the concern and stress I often saw in her face vanishing in the momentary delight of nostalgia.
“What was it that made this bard so good?” I asked, hoping to pick up some pointers I could apply to my own performances. She was quiet a moment, looking into the fire light, clearly lost in memory then she held my eyes for a moment before answering. I was learning that this was a signal that what was going to follow next was from the heart.
“He had a way of speaking, Gabrielle. Like we didn’t hear the story unfolding near the hearth in the tavern; rather, we were there in the midst of battle with the gods and heroes. He spoke in such a way that he removed himself from the tale, just leaving it to us to experience. He was really good.” After a moment, familiar clouds darkened her expression. “That was when things like warlords and battle were exciting tales of adventure.”
“Before you lived it,” I said quietly.
She nodded. “It’s always less… in story.”
I cocked my head, confused. “Less bloody? Less traumatic? Less violent?”
“Yes,” she said no longer looking at me, instead staring into the embers of the fire. “Blood isn’t sticky in the heroic tales,” she said quietly, now talking to herself more than me. “The smell of death and decay lingers on a battlefield, and the din of the insects seems deafening, until you get used to it. And the people who survive are forever scarred…”
Even in these past few weeks, the followers of Morpheus had tried to get me to lose my blood innocence, to take a life and Mezentius had brought back memories of the warlord’s life to my companion. There were parts of Xena that were disjointed, broken and I think she’d spent so much time looking past it, or thinking that was just how she had to be that she didn’t realize that it didn’t need to be that way or that there was any other option. That was something I could do for her at least.
“Who caught the bigger fish?” I asked brightly. “You or Lyceus?” She looked up startled, as if just remembering I was there. “You said that fishing was a favorite pastime, which of you caught the biggest fish?” Her face brightened up and she flashed me that radiant smile, the storm clouds of memory kept at bay for the moment.
“Let me tell you about this huge lake fish,” she said and I couldn’t help but smile at her in return.
I added more kindling to the fire. We’d not traveled far and I felt bad. I knew Xena wanted to put as much distance as we could between us and the family we’d just saved. But because of the henbane I was in no shape for a long walk. We’d even tried me riding on Argo, but the rhythmic movement of Xena’s horse just made me nauseous, so she decided we’d camp. The day had started so well, freshly cleaned clothes, an early morning swim and learning to fish by grabbing them from under the rocks where they’d gathered. Then, well, everything else. I could see the concern on Xena’s face and when she asked me if there was anything she could do, I honestly didn’t know what to say.
“I wish more than anything for you to be able to fix this, but I don’t even know where to start,” I said, finally unable to hold back my frustration.
“Okay, okay Gabrielle. Relax, slow down. Let’s take this bit by bit. Just try to tell me what you’re feeling. Let me know what’s going on.” She spoke in calm, measured tones, but I felt anything but calm. Still, I very much wanted to do what she wanted. I was still feeling guilty for having left her to go home to Potidaea. In a moment of panic, I’d thought I was not cut out for our life of danger and adventure. Well, that was part of it. Where Xena was concerned I felt a growing confusion that I tried to blame on not being ready for the life of companion to reformed warlord. I knew her feelings were hurt. First, I left her to go to the Athens Academy of Performing Bards, then I joined back up with her only to go home. Frankly, I was surprised she let me travel with her again.
“Please, Gabrielle,” she urged when I hadn’t spoken.
“My head hurts, it’s pounding. I feel both starving and queasy. I feel frightened because there are things from today that I can’t remember, I feel embarrassed because there are things from today I can remember. At times my head swims with the henbane; that’s probably scarier than anything, like I’m outside myself and can’t stop it…”
“I understand,” she said moving close to me. “Here, let me.” She touched my neck and I felt her strong hands deftly poke at my shoulders and spine. It hurt, but even as it did, the pounding in my head quieted, then stopped altogether.
“Are you cutting off the flow of blood to my brain?” I asked, half joking.
“Quite the opposite.”
This close I could feel her breath on my skin, feel her warmth at my back, feel her touch. I didn’t want it to stop, ever. For a split second I thought of Perdicus and felt guilty. But we were no longer betrothed, there was no claim he had on my heart; a heart I suspected that would never be his. As she massaged, I added some sticks to the fire with a half-hearted toss. I did not want to move away from her hands. I could feel the muscles relax, I could feel my body give in to her touch. I wanted more of it.
“The pounding is gone,” I said softly. “Thank you.”
She continued her ministrations but never shifted to more of an intimate touch, never pressed her advantage though I knew that she knew she could. She could have asked anything of me and I would have consented. I would have wondered if she was just as frightened as I, were that notion not so laughable.
“Now for the nausea.” She added a slightly different pinch. “If you have memory lapses that frighten you, just ask me, I will do what I can…”
She left her remark hanging and I knew I had a decision to make. It was hazy, but I remembered enough. I remembered that the henbane sent my inhibitions away on a long road trip and I had said what was in my heart, that I found Xena beautiful. Had we not had a child to rescue, no doubt I would have said more, like I was falling in love. Did Xena know that?
“What did I say to you in the cave?” I asked as I gazed into the fire. “I don’t really remember that.”
Xena’s touch didn’t falter, she waited the merest of beats before responding in the same calm tone, “You said you thought I was beautiful,” she didn’t elaborate, she didn’t enhance my words, merely repeated them back to me, as she’d promised she would. “You also said you needed to get the choir organized for singing practice.”
I chuckled in spite of myself. “Yeah, that’s the embarrassing part. I do remember that. I hope that my talking to imaginary people doesn’t make my assessment on your beauty any less valid.”
“Not on the inside,” she muttered under her breath.
Immediately I turned to look at her, my eyes finding piercing blue, she tried to look away, but gently I touched her cheek and turned her back to face me.
“Xena, the darkness you’ve overcome – that you overcome every day – is part of what makes you beautiful. It’s not just your outside, which, yes, is stunning.”
~~~~~~
I felt naked in front of her. Naked in a way that was different than this morning. This kind of naked felt vulnerable and were it anyone but Gabrielle, I would not have tolerated it.
“You don’t really know me,” I whispered and felt the honesty settle around us like humidity. There was no escaping it, and I don’t think that I wanted it to. But that didn’t make it comfortable. Facing a small army would have been infinitely less intimidating.
“I am growing to know you Xena,” she replied patiently, “and you me. I’ve met a friend from your youth, I’ve met your ex-fiancée, I’ve met Autolycus, I’ve seen your generosity in action, I’ve seen you reach for the greater good with no regard to yourself. It paints a much more beautiful picture than what you’ve learned about me.”
I blinked in surprise. “What are you talking about Gabrielle?” Maybe it was the lingering effects of the henbane, but she didn’t hesitate in answering me.
“What have you learned of me? That I run away at the first sign of stress or danger. That I can’t make my mind up as to who or what I want.” I could see Gabrielle’s green eyes mist over and she turned from me to look back into the fire. That was what we’d left unsaid. She wanted me.
From the moment I’d touched her neck, or rather from the moment I’d felt her hands on me as she’d climbed up my body earlier that day, it would have been a simple thing. A lingering touch, my lips on her throat, my fingertips on her skin… but not with her feeling the effects of henbane. Whether it was something she really wanted, or something she was just telling herself that she wanted in this drug induced moment, I did not want that for her nor would I tolerate that of me.
“You came back,” I said simply. The rest needed to be unsaid, at least for now, until I was sure the henbane was out of her system and she had more control over what she might or might not want to be discussed. There would be a time to discuss physical attraction, but tonight was not it.
“What do you mean?” she asked dejectedly, turning her head to the side, catching me with her peripheral vision. “Xena, I hurt you.”
“What you see as your shortcomings, fear, indecisiveness – which are very human responses – you’ve made the choice to do the hard thing, the dangerous thing. Even in your henbane stupor, you left your choir to find me because you were worried about me. Gabrielle, in the short time we’ve traveled together, you’ve gone from a woman who had never left home, to a bard, an Amazon princess, and quite the expert fire builder.”
“But I still hurt you,” she protested, the sadness evident in her voice.
“Sometimes friends hurt each other,” I replied thinking of all of the people I’d loved that I’d betrayed. “It doesn’t mean you stop loving someone. You hurt someone and you apologize, try to make it right, and then move forward.”
Even as I said the words, I was disappointed with myself. I didn’t love Gabrielle, in all honesty I don’t think I’m capable of love, the kind of love that she’s looking for. Sex? Physical escape? That I could do, with her I could do that a thousand times over but a love that eclipses all? I simply don’t have that capacity. But I could see her infatuation, I could feel it in the air she exhaled. I wanted her to think love was possible in that she might find it with someone else. There was no reason we couldn’t stay friends, maybe at some point, physical friends.
“I don’t ever want to leave you again,” she said, quietly.
“We don’t know what the fates have in store for us Gabrielle. Maybe it’s the henbane talking, but if you’re as honest with me as you were tonight, I don’t see what could happen that we can’t make right.” I chuckled, hoping to lighten the mood. “Besides, you think I’m beautiful.”
She smirked, and I knew everything was going to be alright. “That may be mostly the leather,” she shot back. “Don’t let it go to your head.” But the smile she gave me undercut the dismissiveness of her words.
“I see,” I said. “So, now that your headache is gone, and the nausea – I suppose you’re starving?” Her eyes brightened and I laughed out loud as I reached for my saddle pack. “I think there is some cheese and fruit, I hope you’re okay with my choice to say ‘no’ to the nutbread…”
We traveled as far as the outskirts of Athens before stopping. Gabrielle was still weak and did not object when I’d walked Argo off the trail to make camp. Our journey was quieter than usual given my companion’s need to conserve the oxygen usually expended in chatting or walking and I used the time to face some uncomfortable realities.
As the miles passed beneath our feet a parade of faces swam through my consciousness, the men and women that I had encountered in my life that I felt I’d loved; even at my most broken and twisted. For some the passion was fleeting; a momentary jolt that I’d told myself was real to justify luring them into my bed – others not even that. Some, like Marcus, Borias or Lao Ma where I really felt that my emotions were genuine and others like Hercules and Akemi, where I knew I was kidding myself. With each relationship I examined, with all the objectivity I could muster, I asked myself how they compared to the feelings I now felt growing for my traveling companion. I needed to admit the truth to myself if no one else.
In the months we’d been traveling together I’d tried to write it off as nothing more than a physical attraction. Prurient lust. Gabrielle is beautiful physically and every other way imaginable, why wouldn’t I be interested? But on my new path, one with self-discipline where I find better solutions to life’s problems; one where I commit myself to making people’s lives better. That doesn’t allow much room for seducing one’s traveling companion for recreational sex. I suppose that keeping my hands off of her was another way I could atone for all the misdeeds I’d done. To see and not to touch intimately, a daily sort of agony was I suppose a worthy penance.
In our travels, Gabrielle and I had grown into an easy rhythm. She would begin the work of setting up camp while I’d tend to Argo. We would prepare our meal together and spend the evening chatting before turning in. If it was cold, we’d each lay a bedroll on either side of the fire or if the weather was nice, I’d put my bedroll next to Gabrielle’s, keeping her in-between the fire and myself. Occasionally we’d bicker or have a disagreement but usually we’d chat with the intimacy and ease of people who were comfortable in spending every hour together. Like a flower you don’t notice until it blossoms all at once, all this innocuous time spent had forged a level of trust and affection that I don’t think I’d realized until it was fully galvanized. Until it was too late. Until I’d thought I lost her. This attraction was more than skin deep. It was to my core. Can a person fall in love when they don’t think they are capable of it?
I knew better than to pamper her, to treat her like she was wounded, or less than capable. Gabrielle hated that. “Would you like some tea?” I offered casually. “I was going to make some for myself.”
“That would be nice,” she replied. “And Xena, I really am feeling much better, much stronger.” Absently she touched her chest and I knew there were bruises there from where I’d struck her sternum in frustration, quite possibly a cracked rib or two as well.
“Where are we heading next?” she asked conversationally.
I shrugged. “Athens,” I suggested. “I need to get some new shoes for Argo and we aren’t far from there.” This wasn’t the whole of it, of course. The journey to Athens from where we were wasn’t difficult nor terribly long and it would give my companion time to further heal and regain her strength. She nodded absently as I spoke and I could see that her thoughts were miles away.
“A dinar for your thoughts?” I asked gently.
She took a deep breath, clearly coming to a decision and raised her beautiful green eyes to hold mine. “Xena, we need to talk about it.”
“Talk about what?” I countered dismissively. “Everything is okay.” I could see it in her face, the exhaustion, the adventures. Our life was taking a toll on my bard. She looked older now than when I met her; older, more mature, less trusting, less free. So much had happened, not all of it good since we’d met and not for the first time I wondered if her path would be easier, better apart from mine.
“I died Xena, and you think it is somehow your fault.”
“If you hadn’t been traveling with me…” I replied and she cut me off.
“Stop it,” she said curtly. “You are no more responsible for my injuries than you are for Ephany’s son being born breached. I could be killed tomorrow by some random accident whether I am with you or not.” She paused a moment, studying my face before she continued. I could tell she was choosing her words very carefully, her tone much softer.
“Xena, we care about each other. Of course, we are going to worry about each other and do our best to protect each other and feel responsible for each other – but it has to go both ways. It has to be equal. I will not leave you. I want to stay. And I feel that we are at a crossroads. I want to know which way is forward for us.” I knew what she was asking and my mouth suddenly went dry. I felt like Gabrielle could see through me, see my longing, see my fear, see that I was in love with her. I wasn’t ready, I wasn’t prepared for this, not right now, and unable to stop myself I could feel myself close up like a fan. The Warrior Princess was frightened.
~~~~~~
I’m not really sure what I expected her reaction to be, but the ice that glazed over her eyes and the stiffness to her posture was certainly not it. If she had exhaled and I’d seen frosty breath I’d not have been the least bit surprised. “I think the way forward is Athens, Gabrielle,” she said, her voice void of warmth or emotion.
“Okay…” I replied, genuinely confused. Now I was second guessing myself. Even while unconscious I’d heard her voice, the pleading of it, the panic of it as if from a great distance. I felt myself pulled back to the sound of that voice until that moment when I woke up, opened my eyes and felt her gather me into her arms. I saw it all in her face. I was certain I’d not imagined it. She loved me and was in that moment, probably more afraid than she’d ever been before in her life.
“I’m trying to have a conversation about more than geography.” I tried again, hoping that she’d say something, anything to assure me that what I’d seen and felt was not imagined.
“Here is your tea,” she said, offering me the simple clay cup. “I need to check on Argo.”
I wasn’t surprised that she’d not prepared tea for herself; I did not expect her to. It was only a ruse to let her do something for me and have me not notice. I put my hand on her arm to keep her from standing and beneath my fingers I felt the blood hammering through her veins, not unlike the last moments of a rabbit freed from a snare trap only to be dispatched with a knife. She looked at me, her face calm and stoic, her expression would not give away what her pulse already had. I took a deep breath and gave it one last try.
“Xena, I feel that you and I are…connected. Back there, in the temple, I felt myself slipping away, the world in front of me seemed to vanish, everything extraneous fell away and all that was left was the sound of your voice. The world seemed to go black for me, for a little while, and I wasn’t afraid. I heard your voice and I felt…safe, cared for… like I mattered.” I studied Xena’s face while I spoke, not letting myself blink for fear of losing her gaze. She did not flinch from my gaze but I sensed a determination not to give anything away, not to let her eyes mist over.
“I just wanted to make sure you knew…that I feel the same way. That you matter, that I…I want…to be with you.”
She smiled at me, a light grin that did not reach her eyes and was completely fake. In an instant my sympathy for her fear turned to anger. How dare she?
“I’m not going to make you leave, Gabrielle,” she replied, completely mis-understanding the meaning of my words. “We’ve traveled together long enough to know that no matter how many Inns I leave you in, you have a way of showing up.” She was trying to be lighthearted, to put me at ease and I was furious. How dare she indeed? I could feel my cheeks flush and I fought back tears. She saw from my expression that she failed. She smiled again, more gently this time, and a bit sad.
“I’d better go check on Argo,” was all she said.
At this moment I was happy to see her go. I didn’t want her to see me cry. Either I completely mis-read the situation and she didn’t have feelings for me, or what feelings she had were sisterly in nature. I was simply a friend, a best friend perhaps, but nothing more. Or she carried the same feelings as I – that she was in love. But the more I considered it, the less I thought it could be true. Xena was more-worldly than I, so much more-worldly. Aphrodite levels of worldliness. Why wouldn’t she respond when I’d nearly propositioned her? There was no way the Warrior Princess could be fearful of little old Gabrielle! For Hade’s sake, I watched her let Hercules slobber all over her. I’d seen her with Marcus.
Suddenly I wondered if I’d misread the unconscious touches and longing looks. Maybe she was not interested in women? But again, I also watched the glances that she exchanged with Helen of Troy. That looked completely Sapphic to me. The only answer that came back with any clarity was that while relationships with women were something she indulged in, as well as with men, I was not her type. The fear I saw on her face when I awoke in the Temple of Asclepius, it must have been familial. Or brought about by all the stress and sadness of taking a short cut through a war zone. I suppose that is where I found the courage that I was now surely regretting in telling Xena how I felt. Watching people die, the senselessness of war, the survivors who would be forever scarred the overwhelming weight of it. As it all went dark, I’d decided not to waste any of the days that I had left. That as a person alive on this earth, that it was my duty to live each day to its fullest to honor the fragility of it all. The preciousness that can disappear between one heartbeat and the next. How very much like me to proclaim my affection to a woman completely uninterested in me. When I’m wrong, I never do it half way.
Xena took longer than usual with Argo, I’m sure to afford me some privacy as I regained my composure. When she returned, she smiled at me, albeit sheepishly and went to the task of readying for sleep. She cast occasional glances in my direction but I didn’t care. I was hurt, I was sulking and I burrowed into my bedroll. In the days to come I’d have a lot to think about. If I didn’t mean to Xena what she had become to me I’d have to decide how I would endure my unrequited feelings. Jealously, I watched Xena across the dying embers of the fire knowing that she’d be able to find sleep not have to grapple with complicated feelings.
In the weeks following the murder of Perdicus, I felt as though I’d aged a thousand years. Part of that was the sleep deprivation, I’m sure. Every time I closed my eyes I saw my husband’s anguished expression, the pain in his eyes as his warm sticky blood ran through my fingers searing in my memory and forever staining my soul. I thought I’d known what hate was. I’d thought I’d hated Callisto before, but upon reflection, that was merely a strong dislike. This, no this, was hatred. I knew, even in the ravages of my grief that it wasn’t healthy. I’ve seen time and again in my travels with Xena the damage that hate can do. And while I knew intellectually that Callisto was not worthy of my hate, that my own conscience would suffer for it, I still hated her.
I could see in the reflection of Xena’s eyes how I had changed. She ached for my pain, she’d have done anything to take the hurt away from me, to give me solace. More than once across a camp fire, I’d laid down and closed my eyes – sleep a distant goal – trying to keep my eyes closed for as long as I could. When I’d open them, I’d see Xena, across the embers watching me. She was sleeping as little as I, only she had the constitution to endure it.
Part of what made me ache, aside from my own personal loss, was the guilt surrounding it. I knew, in my heart of hearts, why I’d agreed to marry Perdicus. I was scared. I felt as though I’d been rejected by the woman I loved – wounded enough to accept the overtures of a man who loved me, who I did not love in the same way. If I’d not accepted his proposal, if I’d not given into my hurt and fear he would not have been a target for that monster. Perdicus was kind, trusting and had he not loved me, would probably have been a wonderful husband to someone.
As I walked beside Argo, chatting with Xena about inconsequential things she said something that shook me. It resonated and reverberated inside me like a bell. “The hardest thing to do,” she said, “is to put down the weight of what isn’t serving you. Like rocks in your pocket, it will drown you the moment you reach deep water.”
“Is that what you do?” I asked, with a glance up at my companion.
She shrugged. “I fail more than I succeed, but each day I wake up with that intention.” She was quiet a moment more before adding “I worry about how many more Callistos are out there; monsters that I unintentionally created.”
I decided there and then that I would have to leave the past behind me. The only way I could honor Perdicus was to live my life to the fullest. Not to repeat the mistake I’d made with him. As long as I was in love with Xena, I was not going to pretend otherwise. She could accept it, ask me to leave, or continue to pretend she did not see the unspoken between us but from now on I’d be true to myself and deal with the consequences as necessary.
The day had been eerie on our travels from Delphi to Thebes. A thick blanket of fog rolled in making visibility nearly impossible. At first Xena seemed on edge, her blue eyes carefully scanning the forest and trail. I’m not sure if she was expecting Ares, Hades, or any other worldly being but I could feel her physically relax when she’d decided that it was indeed just the weather.
Carefully we left the trail, it must have been late afternoon because everything around us glowed with a warm blue hue. The air was moist, obviously, and I felt a chill even though it wasn’t particularly cold. We found a small clearing, with a place for Argo nearby with some tall grasses to eat. We could see her from the open space that had room for our bedrolls. There was no point in trying to build a fire, it wasn’t terribly cold but damp and any attempt would have given us more smoke than anything else. I set up our bedrolls and dug out some rations to eat. We had some bread as well as fruit, cheese and dried meat. And we had half a wine skin from the markets of Delphi.
When Xena joined me after tending to Argo I could tell she was feeling more relaxed. “It’s just weather, huh?”
She chuckled in response before adding, “Knowing our luck, it doesn’t hurt to hope for the best and prepare for –”
“–Ares?” I supplied, knowing exactly what she was thinking. She smiled and nodded, accepting the cheese and bread I’d offered her.
“Any idea how long this fog will last?” I asked and she shook her head.
“It isn’t out of season, but this just seems unusually thick. Are you cold?” She asked after I shivered.
I nodded. “I think it’s the dampness.”
She moved over and indicated that I sit next to her, taking her blanket and wrapping it around my shoulders. She handed me the wine skin. “It might help you sleep.”
I drank although I had little hope it would help. “I almost think that walking around exhausted is better than the nightmares.”
~~~~~~
My heart ached for Gabrielle. The weariness was evident on her face, in her voice, and the very energy she was emitting. It was all there, the guilt, the sadness, the longing. For days I’d been scolding myself for what I felt was my part in all of this. Not just for creating Callisto – that was ancient history that I would forever be trying to right – no my most recent failing was not admitting to Gabrielle how I felt about her. In my desire for her to be happy, I’d taken it upon myself to be the arbiter of what would make her happy, of what would keep her safe. A life apart from me, married off to a gentle soul like Perdicus. I didn’t expect it to end in tragedy, and once again it could have cost my bard’s life in addition to her husband’s.
Since Gabrielle started traveling with me, I’d been watching her. Keeping my salacious thoughts to myself, then allowing that some physicality might be indulged. It seemed simpler before I realized that I loved her. That we could pleasure each other and see where that road took us and if it ended badly, we could go our different ways. All the icy bravado of the ‘old me’ cracked and fell away when Gabrielle died. When I realized that I wanted her in my life more than I wanted air to breathe, that she was the emotional rudder that righted my ship. When I knew what I stood to lose by a foolish mistake, I proceeded to make the biggest mistake of all – making her think she meant less to me than she did. Less to me than she knew she did. For all of Gabrielle’s light-hearted humor and wit, she isn’t stupid and for months before we marched through that war zone, I’d been playing a dangerous game.
An unconscious touch here, an early morning swim there; a hug, a glance, a meaningful smile. More than once I’d found a need to dry my leathers at the campfire, knowing full well her glances at my naked body would be frequent. I saw Gabrielle’s admiration travel the distance from uncomfortable and surprised, to hungry. Like carrying a torch into a dark cave, she’d discovered the cavern of her own physical desires. Just in time to be wed to Perdicus.
I shook my head against my self-pitying impulses. I could not change the past; I could only change the future. I needed to search myself and find the words, find some way, when the time was right, to tell my bard how I felt. That never again would I let the unsaid get between us and drive us apart. That I wouldn’t play dumb and leave her what must have been feelings of embarrassment.
We shared the dried meat and finished with the fruit; apples that were crisp and tart. She sat next to me on my bedroll with a blanket around her shoulders. There would be no star gazing tonight. No spell cast by the dying embers of a fire. I knew it was a full-moon because the blue glow that surrounded us shimmered. I could see Argo, and the trees just behind her, but everything past that was obscured by white mist. It was as if were in our own private cloud.
Gabrielle laid down on my bedroll and shivered once again. I curled up behind her and she draped the blanket over the two of us. She rested her head on my shoulder and absently touched the pads of my fingers, lightly tracing each one.
It was as if I knew how lightening felt, how a charge of energy raced from my skin to my brain carrying with it all manner of pleasurable information. Gabrielle was warm against me, her touch soft and gentle. Calloused as my hands are, I was aware of every stroke. When she traced her index finger down the center of my palm to the inside of my wrist, I couldn’t help but gasp.
“I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” she had asked, her voice quiet in the misty night.
“No,” I whispered to the back of her head, “that feels nice.”
“So, you don’t mind if I…”
“No,” I whispered again cutting her off. “I don’t mind at all.”
For almost a second, I tried to tell myself that this wasn’t a good idea, that I needed to make some kind of decision as to what was best for Gabrielle. As soon as that thought was articulated it was overpowered by not only the sensations coursing through my body but also my knowledge that thinking I knew what was best for Gabrielle had led us here in the first place. If I’d have just let Gabrielle know how I felt months ago, if we had been here months ago, all that business with Perdicus never would have happened.
Gabrielle drew her hands across my forearm and I could feel the heat rising in my body as my heart furiously pumped blood to everywhere she touched. At once I was enjoying the promise of it; the prelude to the possibilities to follow. But I desperately wanted more. I wanted her to kiss me, I wanted her to put her hands on me, to ask me to touch her, to be hers. Too many times I’d taken what I wanted, seduced and manipulated men and women to find release. Sometimes the feelings were genuine, sometimes not. Here and now, I did not want that. I wanted Gabrielle to want me, not to submit to my desire for her. I wanted her to seduce me.
As if reading my mind, she turned in my arms and faced me. There wasn’t much light, but there was enough. With gentle fingers, she touched my cheeks and throat and I saw a slight smile tug at the corners of her mouth when she brought her fingers to my lips.
“I confess,” she said softly, “the thought of kissing you makes my mouth water.” I waited, feeling my insides clench in the most excruciating anticipation. “And I’ve thought about kissing you a lot.”
She watched me for several seconds. I wondered if she had any idea how aroused I was; how my body was literally flooding with response. I felt naked in her gaze. I hoped she could sense my bliss before she slowly leaned in and replaced her fingers with her lips. I closed my eyes, reveling in the softness of her mouth. I was pleased beyond measure when she drew her hand to the side of my face and held me close as she deepened the kiss. I opened my mouth, welcoming her inside and was rewarded by someone who knew exactly how to kiss me. As if she could read my pulse and return my deepest desire.
“I’ve thought about kissing you too,” I replied when we finally broke.
“Is that all?” she asked coyly as she pushed me gently to my back and rolled on top of me. I smiled up at her. Her face was mostly in shadow but I could feel her breathing, I could feel the hammering of her heart. She was equal parts unsure and aroused and I very much wanted to encourage the latter.
“No,” I answered truthfully. “I’ve thought about a lot more than kissing you.”
“I want you Xena,” she whispered, almost like a request.
I nodded, suddenly finding my throat too tight to speak. “Take me,” was all I managed before she lowered her face to kiss me again, with more intention this time. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was a decision to put sadness behind her, but something about her boldness was my complete undoing. She could have demanded anything of me in that moment and I’d have gladly given it, if only to make sure she never stopped touching me. I would have been hard-pressed to think of anyone I’d ever met that I wanted to know all of me as desperately as I wanted Gabrielle to know.
With a bravado I’m certain she did not completely feel, Gabrielle undid the straps of my leathers and helped me out of them. She took off my bracers and boots leaving me only in my shift. I reached for her skirt, but my hands were stopped. “Not yet,” she whispered.
Her eyes were wide and hungry as her hands roamed over my shift. I closed my eyes and sighed happily as I felt her confidence grow with each touch. I could feel her hands on my abdomen, brushing across my breasts and giving them a gentle squeeze. I must have purred with delight because she chuckled and I opened my eyes.
“We should have done this a long time ago,” she said and I nodded, grinning, unable to stop myself. “I thought you weren’t interested in me? Why didn’t you say something?” she asked before kissing me again, not that it gave me time to think of an answer, so completely focused on exactly what I was doing.
“I don’t think I’m good for you,” I finally said when we broke for air.
Straddling my waist, she beamed down at me as she slowly undid her top. “I’ll be the judge of that, if you don’t mind.” Green top cast aside she moved my hands from where they’d been resting at her waist to her breasts. “Touch me,” she said, and I did. She continued to smile as I playfully pinched her nipples which became hard and taught in my hands, she reached behind and undid her belt tossing it on the growing pile of garments. As she leaned forward once more, she drew her hands under my shift, up my thigh to the juncture of my legs where I was wet and very ready.
If she was feeling any hesitancy or insecurity, she hid it well. She reached for me and I was grateful of her touch. Her hands were firm and steady as she moved rhythmically, making good use of my body’s slickness. She leaned forward again and kissed me, hard this time, with passion that neared frenzy. I enjoyed the onslaught in part because freed me to be more myself in the heat of the moment, but also in that it reassured me that Gabrielle was firm in her choice that this was what she wanted to do and that timidity or over-gentleness would not be tolerated on my part.
“This isn’t what you think,” she explained with a pant when we broke for air and she rolled onto her back, bringing me on top of her.
“What isn’t what I think?” I asked puzzled, stripping the shift off over my head before pulling her skirt off with a firm yank.
“This isn’t anything I learned from Perdicus.” She said finally. I think she saw my expression falter because she quickly added “Amazons get very explicit when chatting around a camp fire.”
“I’m very sorry Gabrielle,” I said. “I hadn’t even considered Perdicus.”
I couldn’t help but smile at the self-satisfied smirk I received in return. “I loved him,” she explained, gently touching my hair, brushing it from my face. “But I shouldn’t have married him, my destiny was not with him and we both know that.”
“Your destiny is with me,” I supplied, lowering my face to kiss her, and her response was all the affirmation that I needed. Whether she wanted me to notice or not, I was aware that she did not say that she loved me. It was possible she didn’t feel that, or more likely that she didn’t want to frighten me off with such dramatic admissions. Either way, it didn’t change what we were about on this moonlit night with dramatic blue fog swirling all around us.
With her encouragement, I freely let my hands roam over her body, enjoying the softness of her skin, her firm muscles contracting and relaxing at my touch. I felt the sublime joy at months of keeping my feelings in check being let loose. The little things I’d fantasized about, kissing her breasts, my fingers exploring where she was warm and wet, the sounds she made; I enjoyed all of it.
I didn’t want our fun to end too soon, we were both turned on by the subtle dance we’d engaged in for months and this moment of being on the same page at the same time. Minutes of serious fucking was all it would take for either of us. I slowly withdrew my fingers and brought them to my mouth, I’d only licked my thumb clean when she drew my hand to her mouth, taking my index finger inside. Her eyes never left mine as I felt her tongue swirl around my finger delighting me with wanton passion. By the time she got to the third finger I was panting with desire. “Do something for me,” she urged, her voice thick with desire, noticeably dropping in pitch.
“Stay like this,” she said as she wriggled out from underneath me and I remained on my hands and knees. We kissed again, and she shifted her position to enter me from behind, her fingers able to reach a better depth and angle. My back arched and I groaned in delight as I felt her fingers plunge deep inside.
“Keep going,” I urged as she built to a delightful rhythm, one hand working on the outside, the other sending me to liquid fire on the inside. I could feel my muscles contract on her fingers in syncopation with her movements each time building that wave inside of me, higher and higher to sublime bliss. As the frenzy loomed closer, she moved her hand from my center and smacked my ass hard, her other hand still working wonders inside of me. I panted in delight at the shock and sting that shot through me. The jolt was as unexpected as it was welcome. Gabrielle was fearless and that in and of itself was sexy as hell. She did it again and that second sharp sting, landing on flesh that was already pink and sensitive was all it took and I groaned out my pleasure feeling a third hard smack to keep the contractions of orgasm going. She didn’t leave me, but stilled her hand so my body found resistance as the bliss coursed through me. Only when I relaxed did she withdraw her hand, slick and sticky with my pleasure.
“Amazon campfires, you say?” I asked between pants, unable to stop smiling.
“You’d be shocked at what all gets discussed,” she replied, clearly pleased with herself.
I turned around to kiss her, pushing her back against the bedroll. “Let me see if I can guess,” I said as I proceeded to let my imagination run wild. I’d fantasized about a physical relationship with my companion and for the foreseeable future, until we were both spent to the point of exhaustion, that is exactly what I intended to do.
“I’m glad you could be persuaded to stay,” Cyrene said as she refilled our cups with wine.
“Argo could probably use another day or two of rest,” Xena replied with a smile of thanks. Cyrene smiled warmly in return and patted her daughter on the shoulder. I was impressed that she didn’t seem the least bit put off by her Xena’s changed appearance. I could tell that it meant a lot to Xena; for her mother to see through Callisto’s exterior and treat her as if noting were amiss.
“I think Joxer is happy for the reprieve,” I commented taking a sip of wine which was delightful. I glanced across the great hearth to see our companion sleeping soundly in a chair, snoring softly. I looked back to Xena and caught her eyes, which still made my breath catch. With intention, I forced a smile that I hoped was warm, but it was still unsettling to have dark brown eyes looking back at me instead of azure blue.
“I’m sorry I’ve cleared out your dining room tonight,” Xena commented looking around the main room of the inn. It was true, we were the only three people besides Cyrene in the place. Even though word had spread that this was indeed Xena, the sight of Callisto’s body was apparently too frightening for people to entertain. I had to admit I empathized with the Amphipolitians at large.
“Never you mind,” Cyrene replied clearing away the dishes from what had been a wonderful meal. “I’m happy for the quiet my dear. It was nice to just cook for the three of you tonight. Besides, there are a few boarders, they’ll be up and about in the morning.”
“Here, mother,” Xena protested, “let me help you with that.”
“No,” Cyrene said in a tone not to be argued with, “you relax with your friend, I have this.” With that, she smiled at me and disappeared into the kitchen.
We sat in silence a moment, enjoying the flames of the great hearth, each lost in our thoughts. “This is going to take some getting used to,” she finally said, breaking the silence and glancing at me shyly. “Not just for you,” she clarified, “but for me too.”
That was the unsaid. I’d already asked myself if my love for Xena transcended her exterior and answered myself immediately that it was a ‘yes.’ But that didn’t mean that it wasn’t going to be difficult. I hadn’t really considered all the implications of how this would be hard for my love. “How so?” I asked.
“Well,” she began, “my head is already swimming from the wine. I can tell that Callisto doesn’t drink. And my body just feels strange. I’m sure I’ll get used to it,” she added with a smile before I might think she was complaining. That was something Xena rarely did. Her philosophy was to fix whatever was amiss, as opposed to complain about it. Once I asked her to demonstrate during a particularly cold rain storm where we camped without shelter and I got a rather dark frown for my trouble.
I studied my friend and ached for her. Soft blond hair framed her face and unlike the wild unkempt tresses of Callisto, her hair was neatly brushed with braids. Her posture was that of Xena, but Callisto had a slighter build making her look a little awkward. More than once she’d moved in such a way that I could tell that she was frustrated by Callisto’s armor that was not the familiar second skin of hers. Surprisingly, she did not seem unsettled in the slightest by more of her body being exposed. How strange I felt, in this moment, feeling sorry for the visual embodiment of my worst nightmares.
While Xena talked about the practical disorientation of her new body, I knew what she was leaving out. I wouldn’t call Xena a vain person, but she knew she was beautiful and used it to her advantage when it suited her. She knew what effect she had on me, even before we were lovers and since…well, I must have blushed, my mind flashing on those mornings where I woke with every inch of me sore, spent and delightfully satisfied. Sadly, it dawned on me that she may worry my attraction to her was skin deep.
Xena looked at me, her eyes full of concern, “How are you doing, Gabrielle?”
I glanced around her mother’s inn. Cyrene could come back from the kitchen any second. How would she feel to walk in, seeing me kiss her daughter to reassure her of my love? I told myself I should do it, just to lean over and do it, and I disappointed myself that I couldn’t. “How do you mean?” I asked instead.
“When I was in Tartarus at the end, before getting thrown back to that cave, I had a glimpse into Callisto’s soul and her into mine I suppose. I know what she said to you, what she did to you…”
How very like Xena to be worried about me, even in her present state. I knew she was worried about my feelings for her, but wasn’t about to voice them. I was grateful for the reprieve. I knew I’d be able to muster my courage, but I just needed more time. “It was strange, upsetting,” I confessed. “I was confused, I had no idea why you were acting so bizarrely and really pushing the aggression with me but it all makes sense now. I feel foolish that I didn’t realize that it wasn’t you, couldn’t possibly have been you.”
“Well, it’s not the kind of thing one expects,” she replied, giving me an out.
“Hades, even Argo knew it wasn’t you. I should have listened to her,” I said, my own frustration evident. “I’m sorry I struck you, I mean her, thinking it was you.” I needed to change the subject, “In Tartarus, did you get any insight…into…into her?”
Xena nodded, her expression sad. “Life was not kind to Callisto after my army left Cirra. She endured a lot, much of it horrific. Even so, we are all responsible for the choices we make. I’ve made many bad ones, and I made the choice to change and try to do better. I bear the responsibility for the wrong I’ve done, but I’m not going to bear responsibility for the wrong she’s done as well. I know that it was my own guilt at her death made this,” she indicated her new body, “possible in the first place.”
I nodded and reached out to touch her hand. I would start there. She didn’t pull away and her hand felt strange in mine, slighter, but at the same time, it felt comforting. While her fingers were slender, there was still strength in her hands, and a calloused palm from hours honing her skills with a sword. In that she was like the Xena I knew. The physical body was different, her voice was different, but the energy inside the body- that was the woman I loved. I gazed into her eyes, willing myself to see past the color. Xena’s face was relaxed, open she was hiding nothing from me, letting me see the insecurity beneath a veneer of hopefulness. I did the same, letting her see my uncertainty and determination. If this is the face that I will wake up to all the rest of my days, I will love her ever much the same.
~~~~~~
From the doorway of the kitchen, I stood and watched my daughter and Gabrielle for some time. It was apparent that their bond transcended friendship and I wondered about the young woman who gazed at the face of the person who killed her husband with such love and devotion. I knew that was Xena in this other body, just as clearly as I knew that it wasn’t Xena in the body of the woman who confronted me in that cave. A mother just knows. But for this young woman, this bard, to have that insight. Well, it impressed me.
The last couple of years brought much change in my daughter. I feel that my Xena from long ago has returned and I suspect the reason for it is the woman seated next to her, tenderly holding her hand. I smiled in spite of myself. Oh, the stories I’ve heard over the years about the Destroyer of Nations and the Warrior Princess. I’ve heard all of the ugliest rumors that no mother should hear about her child. The violence, the cruelty, the debaucheries, things that my neighbors told me couldn’t possibly be true, that they had to be exaggerations, but I knew better. I’d raised Xena, I knew the truth about her, the depths of her soul and things that even she didn’t know. My child was always exceptional, she learned fast, was fearless, strong, headstrong and determined. I knew the terrible stories were true, just as the recent tales of her heroism were also true.
I remembered what she was like before it all began, full of fire. Barely into her womanhood, it seemed simple enough at first, defend Amphipolis from Cortese. Then it was to capture outlying villages as a buffer against future warlords, then the violence fed on itself; more power, bigger armies, selling slaves to finance campaigns, the piracy. It was hard to believe that the Raven-Haired Nightmare, as many in Amphipolis called her, was tamed so by a chatty young bard. However she did it, I was grateful to all the gods on Olympus for putting her in the path of my child.
I was thrown a little at first. When they’d sat down to eat Gabrielle was telling the tale of her husband Perdicus whom she seemed to have loved very much. Ahhh, but it didn’t take long to realize that she’d fallen into the fate of many a woman; marrying someone she thought she should when she truly loved another. She didn’t say so explicitly, but it was plain enough to me. I knew firsthand that the Fates can provide harsh remedies for life’s problems. Perdicus was gone perhaps providing the impetus for Xena and Gabrielle to reach out to each other, to find the place where they both belonged.
Oh, but I knew my daughter. Sometimes better than she thought I did. I’m sure she’d have had no qualms or embarrassment in telling me about the significance of her traveling companion, but not while she wore the body of someone else. She was out of sorts from bearing the brunt of Ares’ sick sense of humor and would not want to engage in any deep conversation that would involve telling her mother that she’d met her match and was in love. Understandably, she was preoccupied at the moment with getting her bearings and finding a solution. No matter, I knew how to handle my daughter.
I stole further into the kitchen and picked up my tray before heading back into the room not trying to be quiet. As I suspected, Gabrielle’s hands were resting in her lap, both women gazing silently into the fire. “Just wanted to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything,” I announced as I put their now empty wine cups on the tray. “No one is staying in the room off the hall. You two might as well make use of it. It’s larger than the others and has a small fire place. It’s rather cold tonight.”
I saw the exchange of a meaningful glance between the two of them before Gabrielle spoke. “We wouldn’t want to put you out…”
“No bother,” I said purposely misunderstanding her. “My bedroom in on the other side,” I nodded with my head to the rooms off the other side of the heart, well away from the room I’d offered them. “I’ll toss a blanket onto your friend; I think he’ll be comfortable enough here by the fire. The room is just going to stay vacant if you don’t use it.”
“Thank you, mother,” Xena said as she stood. “I do feel like I could use some more rest.”
“That is very kind of you, Cyrene,” Gabrielle added with a shy smile.
“Of course, dear,” I said smiling warmly. “You two rest up.”
“I’ll do some fishing in the morning,” Xena added as they took their leave, “In case you have a bigger crowd tomorrow night than the three of us.”
“Thank you Xena,” I called after, watching the two of them retreat to the large room. I shrugged my shoulders and set about the task of readying for bed myself. It was no matter, I decided. It wasn’t like I was expecting grand-children anyway.
~~~~~~
“This is a nice room,” Gabrielle commented as I closed the door behind us. I could see her looking around; there was a pitcher of fresh water on a table and a basin. Simple set of drawers, decent sized bed with fresh bedding and a warm blanket, and small stone fireplace with some wood and kindling neatly stacked next to it. I sighed. It was cold, but I didn’t really have the energy or inclination to start a fire. I wasn’t wearing the shift I usually had on under my armor, and my options were to sleep in the armor or naked.
Gabrielle chuckled as if she were reading my thoughts. “The blanket and I can keep you warm tonight,” she said. “And we can get you a sleeping shift tomorrow. I think your mother knows,” she added meaningfully.
“Oh yeah, she knows,” I acknowledged, grateful that at least there was one conversation I would be spared where my mother was concerned.
“Well, I didn’t tell her,” Gabrielle said, almost sounding defensive.
“Oh no,” I agreed. “Sometimes I think she has the same gift of prophecy that you do.”
Gabrielle and I had purposefully not been looking at each other, rather looking at the bed and the room. I turned to her, surprised again by how much taller she seemed. Callisto was shorter than me; only a little taller than Gabrielle, and this new perspective was taking a some getting used to. “Gabrielle, is this going to be too difficult? Because I can sleep on the floor.”
My bard chuckled, “I won’t lie Xena,” she said. “This is one time I’m glad that we sleep in the dark. I promise, I am getting used to this – it’s just…”
“Different,” I supplied.
“Yes, exactly. Besides, I’m not having you sleep naked on the floor. Your mother would kill me.”
We both undressed, Gabrielle helping me out of my armor which was strange and overly complicated at the shoulder. We slipped into bed, grateful for the soft warmth the bedding and blanket provided. We were close, not touching, and I could feel the heat radiating off of Gabrielle’s body. Only now, while laying down, did the exhaustion of the last several days truly catch up with me and I wanted nothing more than to drift asleep in my lover’s arms. I did not reach out to her though. Asking her to hold Callisto’s body was too much. Selfishly I wondered if I’d ever feel Gabrielle’s arms again, her lips, her touch. We’d not been lovers for very long, and losing what I’d only so recently found was an extra cruel outcome of Ares’ twisted sense of humor. As long as I was trapped in the body of this monster, I had no reason to think that kind of closeness would ever be mine again, and that probably hurt more than anything else. I rolled over to face the wall and feel sorry for myself.
“Xena?” Gabrielle whispered softly.
“Yeah?” I replied, grateful to be drawn from my self-pity.
“I want to hold you, is that okay?”
“Gabrielle,” I tried to protest as she moved closer. “You don’t have to, I look like…”
“Shhh,” she said wrapping her arms around me. The comfort and the warmth at my back was almost too much and I was powerless to refuse. “Just for tonight, Xena, you don’t have to be a Warrior Princess,” she added as she held me close. “You’re in a really unsettling situation, and we’re safe here in the inn.”
I rolled over so I could face her although the room was dark and we couldn’t really see each other. Moving close, she adjusted, wrapping her arms around me and again, and I was startled by how strong Gabrielle felt. This body was lithe, thin, and just a little taller than Gabrielle. To me she felt like a more commanding presence, one that made me feel safe and instantly comforted. “Gab…”
“Shhh,” she said again. “I’ll have an easier time in the dark without her voice,” she confessed, finding my lips and kissing me gently although I did sense her uncertainty at first. I responded to her kiss, reassuring her that I took no offense. “I promise,” she assured me, “one more day and I’ll get adjusted to the whole package.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle at that and I nodded as I settled in resting my head on her shoulder and breast. I wrapped an arm around her middle and our legs found their customary entanglement. I could feel her stroke my hair as she rested her cheek against the top of my head. I knew that Gabrielle was an amazing creature, but the fierceness of the love she had for me, to provide this act of comfort to a body that was responsible for so much hurt… it took my breath away. Sadly, I wished that the memory of feeling this much love could somehow be stored in this body, in the skin or in the breath, so that if I ever got my body back, and Callisto got this one, that she could feel what love was. I’d no doubt if she could feel a love like this, in her adult body, that it might give her the strength to atone for the choices in life that she made. I felt Gabrielle squeeze me a little tighter when a solitary tear slid from my cheek and splashed on her skin. Whatever the body, whatever the test or challenge, I always want to be worthy of this love.
Queen Gabrielle jumped as one of the heavy logs from Xena’s funeral pyre fell sending sparks in all directions. The two of them sat close, their arms linked; the queen and her consort. I approached with a plate of fruit and a wine skin, bowing respectfully to my queen, nodding to Xena. Gabrielle nodded in the affirmative granting permission so I took a seat next to them, watching the fire thoughtfully.
“Must be strange to see your own funeral pyre, eh Xena?” I asked.
The Warrior Princess nodded. “Can’t say it was ever something I expected to do,” she replied. “Happy I didn’t have to endure my entire funeral.”
“Melosa had this expression,” I continued. “Be the person you don’t mind someone describing behind your back.” The Warrior Princess grinned in agreement.
“I wish Velaska had taken the hint,” Queen Gabrielle groused bitterly.
I understood and sympathized with her sentiments more than she knew. Long had I suspected Velaska’s intentions with respect to power. Never content to simply uphold our ways and live prosperously in peace with our neighbors, Velaska saw conquest as the only appropriate use of one’s time. I had no illusions about the need for fight, Amazons were a proud nation of warriors, willing to defend our land and our people with our blood. But I knew that violence and aggression were not the only means of survival. I’d learned that people we once saw as enemies were in fact not so different from us, wanting to live and prosper, fighting only when threatened. Xenan was the product of my evolution, from suspecting Phantes, to loving him, to bearing his son.
I suppose to some my relationship with a centaur made me less an Amazon, but Gabrielle of all people I knew would disagree. No, Gabrielle would say that knowing more about the world around us would let us lead with more empathy and understanding. The world is bigger than our perception of it. We always have the sword and arrow to rely on but we could rely on the olive branch as well and seek common ground before reaching for our bow.
What Velaska didn’t understand was that a queen like Gabrielle made our tribe stronger, not weaker. The living embodiment of a woman who could grow and evolve while maintaining her empathy and compassion. The mighty Xena, bigger than legend, revered and feared by Amazons everywhere had been gentled, if not tamed, by a kind woman from a non-descript village. Only a truly foolish person would think that a life with Xena didn’t require the fortitude of the strongest forged blade. Yet Gabrielle also maintained the flexibility of a sapling in storm, able to bend as not to break with the forces of nature. Yes, Xena’s strength and dexterity amazed all who saw it, but personally I was even more impressed by the woman who had so captivated this enigmatic warrior. Not everyone finds their match and to me it was evident that they both understood and treasured what they’d discovered.
I decided I’d intruded enough on their evening so I prepared to take my leave. “I’ll leave this food and wineskin with you,” I said. “I would like you to have my hut while you’re with us. Xenan and I will stay with Solari. The rest of us are going to turn in for the evening. The sentries will keep an eye on the fire so retire whenever you’d like.”
“Where is Autolycus?” Gabrielle asked. “Is there a place for him to sleep?”
~~~~~~
I couldn’t stifle a chuckle and Ephany blushed a little at her question. “Can’t you hear them, Gabrielle?” she asked. “Ionia and Faelia are bonded and they want to have children. They took a liking to him during dinner.” She glanced in the direction of a nearby hut. Knowing where to orient her attention, it took but a second for Gabrielle to notice the tell-tale sounds of love making coming from inside.
“Yes…well…that’s nice…” she muttered before glancing back at Ephany’s hut which was a nice distance from the others, the hut affording the most privacy.
Ephany stood and nodded to the two of us, “Well, have a nice night, the two of you. I’ll see you in the morning. Xena, it’s good to have you back. My Queen…” With that she nodded to the four Amazons nearby who were also idly watching the fire and they followed her back to the main lodge.
“Why did she make them leave?” Gabrielle asked quizzically.
“Those aren’t the sentries, she’s trying to give us privacy, something you’re entitled to as Queen as well as sitting next to someone who was fairly dead not too long ago.”
Gabrielle chuckled, “I guess that makes us even. We’ve each died once.” On a more serious note, she added, “Let’s not do that again.”
I nodded, saying, “I couldn’t agree more.”
Gabrielle was quiet a moment and asked, “what was it like for you? Death I mean?”
I shrugged as I gazed at the fire and tried to think back to the experience which was already fading from conscious memory. It’s funny how memory can turn to the thinnest gossamer, like trying to catch mist.
“I felt trapped. But in a way where I wanted to be trapped. There was a certainty in all that I still need to do, that I can’t be finished with this life.” Gabrielle nodded in understanding and I added, “and I don’t want to leave you, now that I’ve found you. I think I couldn’t stay before because my body was too badly damaged by the log, I couldn’t come back as myself. I needed the Ambrosia to fully heal.”
“What did it taste like?” she asked curiously.
“It’s hard to describe, like all of your favorite foods singing together in harmony.” I nudged her shoulder then added, “who knows, maybe someday you’ll find out for yourself.”
“Yeah, right,” she replied squeezing my arm closer and passed the plate of fruit to me. “Does it bother you?” she asked.
“Does what bother me?” I replied after selecting an apple and putting the plate down. “That you were in my body – that I shared your consciousness…that you shared mine?” I clarified. Gabrielle nodded in agreement.
I watched the fire for long moments as I tried to put my thoughts in order. The grey smoke curled up to the sky as orange embers crackled and popped intermittently. It smelled of pine and warmed us even though we were sitting some distance away from the flames. “Gabrielle, I can’t think of a more generous gift you could have given me, to open yourself so completely – sparing nothing as I took control of your body for the fight. I saw your courage, your wit, your humor as well as your fears and disappointments. I saw a woman who has grown so much in this last year, who is coming into her own, not just in your physical abilities, but in your wisdom and judgement too.” I took a deep drink of wine before adding, “Your innermost secrets are a damn sight prettier than mine.” I shrugged then added, “Gabrielle, you make me want to be worthy of you.” The words came out without thinking because they were true to the deepest core of my being.
It was almost as if I’d lived Gabrielle’s life to that point, since she’d shared it all with me. The disappointments and frustrations of parents who did not understand her to the utter enthrallment she enjoyed the first time she heard a bard perform a heroic tale. There were the villagers who took delight in her quick wit and those who thought she held aspirations above her station. I saw things that scared her, felt her apprehensions about the dangerous life we led. I saw the nervous fumbling of Perdicus on her wedding night and I felt her deep and abiding love for me, wider and deeper than any ocean. Completely different from the tortured nightmare that was Callisto’s innermost memories – the vision of all that made up Gabrielle rendered me spellbound.
I took a deep breath and then asked, “What was it like for you?
~~~~~~
I drew my eyes from the fire to look at Xena before I answered. The moment demanded honesty and gentleness. I wanted my love to have both. “I won’t lie to you Xena, some of who you are scares me. You have a rage that while infrequent, is unpredictable and only now do I realize what it costs you to manage those impulses day in and day out. Only now do I really realize the darkness that you battle, how haunted you are by the things you’ve done that you regret, and how little you let the things you’ve done that are good assuage that guilt.
“But I wasn’t kidding when I told you that there are two types of tears, tears for those you leave behind and tears for those you never let go. Xena, I’m as sure of anything in my life that I will never let you go. I could live for a thousand years and I’d never let you go. Nothing hurt me to my core as much as the fear that I’d missed my chance to tell you that I love you, That I am in love with you and for the rest of my days that I want to be with you.” I was surprised beyond measure that I saw Xena’s eyes mist over and she briefly looked away to wipe them.
“Gabrielle, I don’t deserve you,” she muttered. “The darkness…”
I took a drink from the wine skin before replying, “I don’t believe that. I deserve you. I’ve chosen you. And if I think you are worthy of me, well, then you are.”
She looked at me and I saw the familiar smirk reach her eyes. “Is that your Queen outfit talking a little bit there?”
I shrugged, “Maybe?”
I’m not sure why, but in that moment, I chose to keep some of what I saw to myself. That I did see my future with Xena, that I did see well beyond our present when she entered my body from beyond this realm. I don’t know if she saw it too. Maybe she did and like me she did not want to give possible futures weight by uttering them aloud. But that didn’t change what I saw. I saw joy and happiness, plenty of it but I also saw gut wrenching pain, I saw anger and darkness and I knew that Xena’s rage would lash out and hurt me more than once in the days that were to come. But I also knew that I was stronger than that. That I could endure her darkness if only to make sure that she continued to face the light. That the oracle of Aphrodite was correct all those years ago, that I did have the sight and while I might not articulate it as such, that my instincts were generally right and that I knew my warrior better than she sometimes knew herself.
Instead, I decided to change the subject. “I’ve decided to give my title of Queen to Ephany. She is really the one who should rule.”
Xena nodded in agreement. “I don’t think your title is just something you can give away.”
“I’m the Queen, you’d think I’d get to do what I want? I will tell her in the morning that’s my decision. If she has a problem with it she can bring it up with my consort – she’s a Warrior Princess, you know.” I gave her a playful shrug and Xena laughed.
“Is she now?” she answered playfully.
We fell into comfortable silence long minutes after, both of us watching the fire, lost in our own thoughts and enjoying the connection of our arms touching. I had no doubt she could read me as easily as I could read her.
“Are you tired?” I asked breaking the silence. “I don’t think you’re going to outlast your funeral pyre – and I’m sure being dead for a while takes a lot out of you.”
She gave me a cocky smirk in response, her beautiful blue eyes reflecting orange flames with mischief. “I’m not too tired,” she said “if that’s what you mean. I think we could have every bit as much fun as those three over there.”
“Xena!” I said with mock offense as she offered me her hand and I stood and walked with her hand in hand toward Ephany’s hut.
“My Queen,” she said softly, stepping aside for me to enter.
“Don’t you forget it,” I said softly back and led her into the hut.
We traveled some distance from the village where Xena confessed her crimes and I could tell that the Warrior Princess and her brat were anxious to make up as much time as possible. Velaska had a head start but that didn’t worry me. The moon was well into the sky before we stopped; the night quiet which suited me fine. They were mostly subdued on our journey, the irritating blond frequently looking back at me and casting anxious looks at her warrior. Unspoken, they were communicating through glances and the occasional touch. It was clear to me that the pair had most certainly acted upon the urges they’d both been harboring since I’d met them. The guilt-ridden warlord and moony tale-teller, how ridiculously perfect. Finally needing to stop so the brat could sleep, Xena built a fire and shared her meager traveling rations with the bard.
I made myself comfortable at the base of a tree near the fire to sharpen and polish my sword. The day’s events had been unsettling and I needed to focus. I’d spent too much time looking back, that day in Cirra and all that came after were howling at the perimeter of my consciousness. With a discipline honed over many years, I could will myself not to think about it, not to live it all again. The pain, the horror, the injustice of it. I could withstand the breakers of memory pounding at my soul. It’s easy when your soul has long since withered away.
I could see Gabrielle study me from across the fire while her lover was away doing whatever it was she was doing. It occurred to me that I could kill her now. Leave a lovely present for Xena to find, but if I did that, I’d have no shot at Ambrosia, so like a good sport, I endured her stares. Finally, she screwed up the courage to say something.
“Can I ask you something?”
I glanced over to the bard before answering, “Alright. We both know how much I love chitchat.”
“When we were at the village and Xena was talking about Cirra, did you feel anything?” she asked with an earnestness that I found truly offensive. Who was Gabrielle to think she understood the first thing about who I was or what I’d endured? Clearly having bedded a warlord, the brat thought she was invincible. Still, without giving anything away, I answered her.
“You’re trying to figure me out, I’m flattered.”
Nevertheless, she persisted, “Answer me, or are you afraid?”
Oh, I’d had it. I was more than happy to remind the brat of exactly who she was dealing with. “Let’s play a game, shall we?” I asked cheerfully. “I’ll answer your question, if you answer mine.”
“Alright,” she said with a serious intention.
“What did I feel when Xena confessed her crimes?” I repeated her question while I considered the answer. It was all there, too close. The memories; screaming, the smell of charred flesh, the raiders that came through when Xena’s army departed and all the miserable days since. “Well, the problem is Gabrielle, I never feel anything. I mean bits and pieces here and there but nothing solid.” That much was true. It was all thought; my entire world had become thought not feeling. An academic approach to achieving justice in this miserable existence. Sure, innocent people suffered, I had after all, the innocent paying the price for the wicked was as much a part of life as breathing. Still, I needed to convey this in a way that the bard would understand. She leaned in and I had her undivided attention. “Think back to when you were a little girl and all you knew was your mother and your sister and all your faith revolved around them. Now kill them.” She jolted back, struck by my words.
Now for the part that was delicious. “My turn.”
“Alright,” she said, leaning forward again with an earnestness that I found nauseating.
“When I sliced open your husband, how long did it take him to die?” I laughed out loud at the anguish that hit her face as if I’d struck her. It was delightful. Sometimes, I have to make my own fun. Not wanting to cry in front of me she stood up in a huff and stormed off as Xena approached. Served her right.
“There is a path out of the mountains– what’s wrong with her?” The Warrior Princess asked as her lover stormed past.
I shrugged, “We played a game of truth or dare and she’s not very good at it.” The look of icy fury was easy to read. If Xena hadn’t needed me to solve her current problem and were I mortal, she’d have killed me then and there for hurting her bard. Clearly, she’d done it before.
“I know where to make a stand,” Xena said, all business. “We have to draw Velasca there.”
~~~~~~
Callisto gave nothing away when she asked “Are you going to trust me? You haven’t even mentioned my little betrayal?”
Self-discipline kept me from turning my head to the direction Gabrielle had gone. I ached for her, but splitting my attention now would show weakness to an enemy who could make use of any opening. Gabrielle would rejoin us when she was ready. “I can trust you because you’re after the Ambrosia,” I replied easily. “And as for the betrayal, it was hardly unexpected.”
“You knew I would turn and you knew what to do,” Callisto replied with respect.
“And now I know that you and Velaska are enemies,” I added with a small smile.
“Alright so how do we take care of her then?”
“Just beyond the mountains, there’s a canyon with some ruins in it, and just beyond that a lava pit, that’s our best bet.” I kept my tone steady revealing each bit of information as no more or less important than the other bits of information.
“Well, the ruins will confine her powers and the goal is to get her into the lava pit. It’s brilliant,” Callisto replied, impressed. I gave it a fifty-fifty chance that she didn’t know what I was up to, and counted on the Ambrosia to override all.
“Without falling in ourselves,” I added for good measure, making it clear that I wasn’t trying to hide the existence of the lava pit.
“Ahhh but you’re forgetting one very important element.” She replied, her voice calm and measured. “My Ambrosia.” She said it almost as a purr and I dared hope that would be the distraction I needed to have this plan succeed.
“Oh, I haven’t forgotten that.” I replied with a smile, adjusting my bracers.
“Good.” She replied continuing to polish her sword. “So, I suppose I’m supposed to wear her down again?”
“No, no, she’s grown too strong. We have to lure her there.” This part was honest enough. We needed to lure Velaska as surely as we were luring Callisto at this very moment. There were a million ways this plan could go wrong, but experience had taught me that people very much behave as themselves. When you really know your enemy, you can predict them. Velaska was all about power and revenge, she was predictable and still learning. While hard to beat on our own, she was easy to predict and manipulate.
Callisto on the other hand was the opposite, a monster of my own making she was nuanced and her wants varied with each new situation. Sure, she wanted revenge and to hurt me, but the how of it, how she would extract the suffering, that was nuanced and deadly. As always, I’d have to be careful with her. Even as she had a blind spot for me, my guilt, that I routinely wrestled with in regards to her could be a blind spot for me as well. While I’d come to terms with it for the most part, from when she’d inhabited my body and I hers, she still had the ability to needle me and even more so, Gabrielle.
It was hard not to feel a fresh pang of guilt, seeing this broken and fragmented woman across the fire. I’d not been lying when I’d spoken in the village square. I was responsible for her creation, but I was also working, every day to undo the damage I’d wrought in the world. There was a connection Callisto and I had that I no doubt that neither of us would speak of. While in her body I’d had access to the memories, the horror, everything that had made her who and what she was. I had no doubt that likewise, she had seen my past and my memories. While I felt comfortable to some degree with Gabrielle having his information, it was not so with Callisto.
“Well, we have perfect bait for that.” She said, distracting me from my thoughts. “It’s your precious little Gabrielle she wants.”
“I know,” I said, more to myself than my psychotic companion. I took a deep breath and looked over in the direction Gabrielle had gone, but I didn’t go after her. Gabrielle would think I was trying to take care of her, and I would do nothing in this circumstance that might give Callisto the idea that I didn’t have complete faith in my bard’s ability to take care of herself.
~~~~~~
I brushed past Xena and charged away from our campsite until I was well out of the firelight as well as ear shot. I cried. The tears were more from frustration at my inability to protect myself from that woman. There was something between Xena and Callisto that infuriated me. I knew better than to think it was anything sexual. But there was a connection, a bond that the two of them shared and unhealthy as it might be, I was still jealous of it. Xena regretted Callisto, regretted her very existence because she was a constant reminder of who she once was and the things done on her orders. But she also respected her. And that hurt. Yes, Xena respected me, certainly she’d showed me that in countless ways, but Callisto was a warrior – a fighter nearly matched to her in skill. That wasn’t something I could ever be, and in that respect, I felt lacking.
When my tears had dried and I felt spent, I crept back towards the camp site and waited. I listened to the two of them converse. Callisto respected Xena, she craved Xena’s attention. She wanted to ruin her and be her at the same time, that much was obvious. It dawned on me in that setting that there were any number of things I could have said to her that would have wounded her as badly as she’d wounded me. But I wouldn’t. That wasn’t me. I didn’t want that to be me. But if she pushed me…
When they’d stopped talking, I made my way back to the fire and sat across from Callisto, near Xena. I wasn’t hungry but I’d rummaged in my bag for some grapes and offered Xena some.
“If you two want to go off and fuck in the woods, I don’t mind.” Callisto offered helpfully. “I’m happy to tend the fire ‘till you get back.”
I responded before Xena had the chance. “That’s fine,” I said. “We can forgo one night.”
Xena’s look of worry melted into a self-satisfied smirk and Callisto chuckled.
“Well, Xena’s pussy has claws – who knew? What would poor Perdicus think of you now?”
My lover was about to stand, but I stayed her with a wave of my hand. I was ready for her this time.
“Honestly, Callisto, I think Perdicus would just be happy I have love in my life. People tend to turn out rather badly when they don’t.”
The blond warrior’s eyes narrowed dangerously; my words had found their mark.
“Tomorrow is going to be a long day,” Xena interjected attempting to diffuse the situation. Why don’t we get some sleep?”
“Immortal. Don’t sleep.” Callisto said, returning her attention this time to sharpening her dagger.
“Gabrielle?” Xena asked softly and I read the meaning behind the meaning. She was going to keep watch, not trusting our companion for a second and if I was asleep or at least pretended to be asleep, there would be less to antagonize our guest.
“I suppose I’m tired,” I said even though I had no intention of sleeping. If Xena wanted me to feign it though, I could do that. She moved her position to across from Callisto, a large boulder at her back. Her sword and chakram were within reach and she stretched out her legs, that I might use one of her thighs as a pillow. Callisto dramatically rolled her eyes.
I stretched out, turning my back to the fire and Callisto, resting my head. The night was warm, I had no need of a blanket.
“I hope the climaxes are worth all the trouble,” Callisto said to Xena, her voice dripping with disdain.
The last thing I heard before falling fast asleep was Xena’s reply. “You have no idea.”
“So, do you think Vidalis and Palemon…?” Gabrielle asked after indulging in her third pastry. The sweetly spiced cake was tender and light with a delicate honey drizzle. I smiled in delight as I popped another into my mouth. I’d polished off six of them but I wasn’t going to tell Gabrielle that in case she hadn’t been counting.
“Vidalis? Absolutely.” I agreed. “Palemon? I don’t know, maybe. I’m sure he could be persuaded. I must say Gabrielle, this has been a delicious wedding feast. It was nice of Vidalis to gift us with the bounty of your nuptials.”
“And offer the use of his friend’s house while they’re in Delphi,” she replied.
Without a doubt the courtier had been charmed by my bard as everyone was charmed by her. After catching up to Palemon and persuading him to wait, he had returned to gather some belongings. Finding us back in the village, he escorted us to his friend’s home off the main road through town, safely away from the castle and insisted we stay the night at least to recuperate from our adventure that day. Gabrielle was still coughing on occasion from the smoke inhalation so I’d accepted his offer. My eyes still ached and I had to admit that the rest would be good for me too.
In addition to the sweets, he’d brought a feast with him, meats and savory pies, breads, cheeses, vegetables and soups. The court was celebrating, not knowing yet that their king was dead and Vidalis had brought carts full of the delectable dishes to the square for everyone to enjoy. He would be well away from here when the story came out, as would we when the news broke tomorrow or the day after. There was enough chaos going on within the castle walls that I had no apprehensions about staying the night and enjoying a comfortable bed.
I knew that Gabrielle was grateful for the ability to bathe with warm water and soap and get the last of the smoke from her skin and hair. In all honesty we’d greatly enjoyed bathing each other, among other things.
“I need to stop getting married,” Gabrielle commented as she’d combed out my wet hair. We were relaxing on the floor by a cheery fire in the hearth, with blankets and pillows around us in happy chaos. A short table nearby was laden with food, all of our needs for the moment satisfied. “I would also like very much to stop getting taken prisoner. I tell you though, I had Vedalis ready to let me go when I’d told him my heart belonged to another.”
“Oh, did you now?” I replied with a playful nudge. “Tell me about him?”
Gabrielle frowned. “Okay, yeah, I kind of didn’t dissuade him from thinking that. But I also told him that my very best friend in the world was the fearsome Xena.”
“Oh, he knew we were friends alright when I met him. He told me leather was a bold choice. He knew who you were to me in a heartbeat.”
Gabrielle looked at me quizzically. “I have noticed that you do that Xena, refer to me as your friend when speaking to people. Is that what we are to each other? Friends?”
Her tone was light, not hurt, which I found refreshing. This was not the first time I’d had this conversation with a lover although Gabrielle certainly approached the topic with less anger and more of an open mind than anyone else. She was simply asking me a question. One I’d answer as honestly as I could.
“To be blunt, I don’t think my relationships are anyone’s business but mine. And from a practical standpoint, the more someone knows what you mean to me, the more of a target you become. Would you have me proclaiming my passion for you in the town square?”
Mischief in her green eyes, she gave me a wink. “As much as I’d pay a dinar for that performance, no. I’m happy to have you proclaim your passion for me in private only.” Buy the gods, I could get lost in those green eyes. Her smirk was one of happy satisfaction, but also the promise future opportunities to privately give her that performance.
“I can’t believe you came to save me at the cost of your eyesight,” she continued. “What if you’d been blinded?”
“I’d learn to live with it,” I replied with a shrug. I left the rest unsaid, that if my world would forever be darkness, that the last thing I’d want seared into my memory was Gabrielle.
“I’m glad that you weren’t. How are your eyes feeling, by the way?”
There was something about the way that she looked at me; the way that she could see through me that was ever my undoing. She never seemed uncomfortable with my gaze, always meeting my attention with unwavering attention. When it was just us, she was the most present conversationalist I’d ever met. I smiled. “My eyes are fine, Gabrielle,” I assured her. “Just a bit tired.” She gave me a self-satisfied smirk in addition to blushing a little. “No,” I clarified. “My eyes are tired – the rest of me is well up for more of that.” I glanced with intention at the bed behind us where we’d spent some quality time between baths.
“Here, try this.” Gabrielle rummaged through her bag and extracted a piece of the fabric she’d bought that morning in the village; it was sewn together, filled with lavender and healing herbs, that tied in the back to secure. “Vidalas made this eye mask.” Gently, she positioned it over my eyes. My eyes covered, the pressure wasn’t uncomfortable, it was cool against my skin; the scent relaxing. She tied it behind my head so it wouldn’t slip. I couldn’t see a thing. “He said you should wear it for a couple of hours for the next several nights, just to completely draw out every trace of sumac.”
“Here,” she whispered, her breath near my ear, offering me some fruit. I bit down on a bit of tart apple and cheese, her soft fingers gentle at my lips. The morsel was accompanied by a light kiss at the base of my ear. I was quite comfortable to surrender my sight for a couple of hours and have Gabrielle fuss over me.
“So, this morning at the square; tell me why you like shopping so much?” I asked relaxing against the pillows we’d moved from the bed and made myself comfortable. Gabrielle leaned in close and spoke softly enjoying the fire and the mood as much as I. Her long hair tickled my shoulder a little as she turned her head to reach for a wine glass before beginning her tale. For what had begun as a stressful day, this night was damn near perfect.
~~~~~~
I savored the wine while I put my thoughts in order. These moments with Xena were precious to me, when it was just the two of us; not preparing for battle, or on a mission, or trying to get out of some scrape, but just the two of us sharing ourselves with each other. I don’t think I could ever tire of moments like these.
“I think it must be how you feel in battle,” I suggested and she chuckled. I couldn’t help but smile as well as the silliness of the analogy but I still thought it worked. I put the wine glass to her lips and offered her a sip. A few drops escaped the corner or her mouth but a kiss made quick work of that.
“Think about it,” I continued, determined to make my point. “When you’re haggling for a bargain, you need to think on your feet. It requires storytelling, performance, and believe it or not there is skill involved. Sure, people offer you bargain prices because they don’t want to die, but I have to work for it. At your mom’s tavern – no one tried to negotiate?”
My lover snorted indignantly. “Never more than once,” she deadpanned. “Then again,” mom always asked fair prices, never tried to take advantage of travelers. Some seasons it seemed like we barely scraped by. What about you? Was your family affluent when you were growing up? I know I’ve met them, and your home seemed nice…”
“No, no.” I replied. “I mean, we were okay. We didn’t want for anything, but everyone in Potidaea is for the most part the same. People barter for goods and services, sure sometimes dinars exchange hands, but for the most part people trade. Some folks value education, some families don’t. I was interested in learning and I suppose my father was just as happy to have me out of the way, out of the house. Lila wasn’t as interested in lectures and spent more time at home helping mother. If something needed to be traded, I’d sometimes get that job. Who did the shopping for your mother’s inn?” I asked.
“Toris,” Xena grunted. “Being the eldest, he was tasked with forging relationships with suppliers in Amphipolis. One family for meat, one for vegetables, another for drink, and so on. Lyceus and I were responsible for keeping the place clean and in good repair. And fishing of course.” She chuckled to herself, stumbling upon a long-forgotten memory. “There was one night when this woman came to the inn selling some exotic cheeses. She was new to Amphipolis. She had this rare breed of goat and used this interesting mix of herbs – I remember the scent of dill for sure. Anyway, Toris was off with his friends and mother was out, taking care of a sick neighbor. It was just Lyceus and I running the place that night. I took some dinars from the cash box, bought all the cheese this woman had and damn if Lyceus and I didn’t sell all of it that night. Aside from what we ate of course.” She beamed at the memory which made me happy. I couldn’t help but wonder what it might have been like to meet her then. “There was more money made on that night than any other night that month,” she continued. “Mother was happy with us, started to take regular deliveries from the woman, but Toris was annoyed of course.”
“It’s hard to picture you like that,” I said, unable to keep some of the sadness from my voice. “Before everything, working in your mom’s inn with your brothers.”
Xena didn’t say anything for long minutes as we listened to the fire together. “It’s hard for me to picture me like that too Gabrielle. I don’t yet know if I’m ready to ponder what I might have been if…”
“We are all darkness and light,” I told my lover even though I knew it wasn’t going to make her feel any better.
“You haven’t seen much of my darkness yet, Gabrielle. I hope you never do.” My warrior replied, her voice strained.
I leaned over and kissed where her pulse threaded through her neck. I was pleased by the sharp intake of breath I could illicit. “If your darkness ever comes to call Xena, I will be ready,” I assured her. I shifted and once again kissed her throat, this time at the hollow between her collar bones. It occurred to me that some love making in front of the fire with Xena blindfolded was exactly what this moment called for. I could feel her body respond as I kissed my way down to her breasts. Xena showed no desire to remove her blindfold and it was clear that she was enjoying the moment as much as I. She reached for me and at her touch I sighed with pleasure. “Let’s see how well you operate in the dark,” I said in mock challenge.
She smiled that wanton smile she sometimes used in battle. “Me first, then you,” she purred. “It is your wedding night after all.”
In the brief moment I still had to think before passion overtook me, I made a mental note to thank Vidalis for the blindfold if I ever saw him again.
Gabrielle gratefully accepted the cup of tea I offered her. I was relieved to find some ginger in Argo’s saddlebag and some peppermint leaves. She was still swaying unconsciously and I expected it to be a day or two before she fully reacclimated to solid ground. My bard was not cut out to be a sailor. “Xena?” she asked forcing a smile. “No more ships, no more ocean travel. Not for a while anyway.”
“Agreed,” I replied toasting her with my own cup of tea. “I’ll be happy to stay out of Poseidon’s way for the next decade or two. I think he’s less happy with us than he was with Cecrops.”
“Oh yeah,” she agreed. “I’ll be okay if we never see that particular god again. I’ll stick with Ares and Aphrodite – they seem…”
“More human?” I asked with a chuckle. “Don’t kid yourself. A god is a god no matter the trappings and the one thing they all have in common is self-interest.”
We’d camped on the bluffs overlooking the ocean, an epic sunset alighting the sky in every shade of pink and teal imaginable. The last glints of light sparkled off the breakers as they made their rhythmic crash to shore. In the distance we could hear the sea gulls calling to one another as they settled down for night. Our campfire smelled of the grasses that grew in clumps in the sand. We had little in the way of supplies, having lost a great deal in our recent ship wrecks, but I’d grabbed Argo’s saddle bag and Gabrielle had hers so we’d make due until we returned to town and reunited with a newly shod Argo. Lucky for us, the tea was in Gabrielle’s bag and our small cook pot and two cups were in mine.
“It’s quite a thing to imagine though,” Gabrielle mused after a thoughtful sip, “to live for three hundred years, obviously being cursed and unable to step on dry land is the problem, but to have that kind of time and being able to go anywhere, read every scroll, learn everything you could learn…”
I shuddered at the thought; centuries to ponder all of the things I’d done that needed atonement, that sounded like a curse indeed. “You’d use endless time to read? That sounds very you.” I agreed.
“Read, write, learn some new moves with my staff… I suppose you’d spend endless centuries doing exactly what you’re doing now?” She asked, looking at me thoughtfully. “Doing good and helping others.”
I shrugged. “If I wanted to do something different, I’d do something different.” It was nice; a sunset, a fire, decent weather. I always felt good with Gabrielle. I understood the depth of Cecrops devotion, that’s why I ran to his ship in the first place. “Immortality would give you the time to seek out your admirer Altrek,” I teased with a chuckle.
Gabrielle looked at me, a mischievous glint in her eye. “If we’re going to discuss puppy love Warrior Princess…”
“What?” I protested, grateful that no one on Cecrops’ crew had taken a fancy to me.
“I believe we haven’t discussed that thing with Ulysses,” Gabrielle smiled and it didn’t reach her eyes and I knew there was something serious behind her light teasing.
“Out with it,” I urged keeping my tone even and my expression open.
“Well…you have feelings for men?” she asked.
I shrugged, it seemed obvious to me. “Of course. On occasion. Depends on the man, certainly, and Ulysses was a good one. You do as well, don’t you?” I asked, suddenly wondering if I’d misread her. Gabrielle blushed a little and looked uncomfortable. “It’s fine with me either way,” I added not sure if she needed encouragement to tell me what was on her mind. “I just thought…Perdicus…”
“Yes…that…” Gabrielle replied unhappily and I could tell that she wasn’t thrilled with this conversation shifting back to her. “I loved Perdicus, although I don’t think I was in love with him and the sex…” She looked away and suddenly seemed shy which was not the Gabrielle I’d come to know these last months.
“You can tell me,” I said quietly. “If you want to.” I would not push her, we all had things we wanted to bury.
She shrugged. “Maybe because it was just that one time. And it is unfortunate for him that you’re the only other lover I have to compare him to and you’re…” she chuckled to herself, “well you’re amazing.” I felt immense pride at hearing that but was determined not to react. “He treated me as if I were fragile, made of glass or something. He um…I don’t think we communicated well with each other and I felt like more spectator than participant. I don’t know. Maybe if I’d felt like I could take a more active role. And, um, it hurt. And it wasn’t as um… anyway…”
She looked out towards the sea although now we could barely make out the waves. The night was shifting to shades of dark indigo. The moon wouldn’t be rising for a while, so for now it was just us and the firelight. I smiled at her sadly, I didn’t want to think about Gabrielle experiencing discomfort for any reason; either physical or emotional. “Sometimes the first few times can be painful.” I offered.
“What was your first time like?” She asked looking at me from across the fire. Her expression was open and vulnerable. I was grateful to get off the topic of Ulysses. I knew it was something we’d have to circle back to, but for the moment I was happy to let it wait. I thought back past the dozens of lovers I’d had over the years. The trysts, the relationships, the manipulations…I found my way back to that time before Warlord, Destroyer of Nations, Warrior Princess when I was a girl, curious and ready for an adventure. The inn was well stocked in preparation for the festival, and like Toris and Lyceus I’d helped myself to some wine. Everyone was jovial and in good spirits and it was easy to get lost in the throng of activity for a few hours.
The pair had caught my eye when I’d helped out. Flora was taking care of the guests, but with so many revelers I’d lent a hand too. There was something about the man and the woman, the ease that they had with each other, as if they were alone together in the crowded Inn. They’d already paid for a room and were in the main room to celebrate with some drinks. The woman especially had caught my eye and she did not turn away when she caught me looking at her. She engaged me in conversation. Her hair fell in soft blond waves at her shoulders, she was toned and strong. She smelled of bergamot and lemon verbena. Her husband was handsome, dark hair, darker eyes. I was aware that he was studying me talking to his wife. He looked a few years older than she and she appeared to be a few years older than me. The pair seemed dangerous in the best possible way and when she invited me to their room I’d accepted. I was ready.
~~~~~~
I watched as Xena put her thoughts in order. While I’d found her to be a wonderful storyteller when she talked about her life and adventures, I knew that it was something that made her feel self-conscious and I wanted to let her consider her response.
“I was young,” she began after a sip of tea. “This was shortly before Cortese and his army descended upon Amphipolis and, well, everything after. There was this couple that stayed at the inn. It was during the harvest festival; everyone was happy and celebrating and I hit it off with them and…”
“Wait?!” I said, interrupting her. “A couple. As in a man and a woman?”
Xena shrugged as if it was the most commonplace thing ever. “Yes, husband and wife if I remember correctly. I’m pretty sure they were married…anyway…” she left it hanging as if she’d come to the end of her story. This was going to take a little work on my part if I wanted any level of detail.
“And you…” she nodded, “with both of them…” she nodded again, “together?”
This time she rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Of course, together.” She chuckled, “every combination you can think of with one man and two women – we did that, in pairs and the three of us together,” she explained patiently. “Several times in fact, it was a long night. Everyone was distracted by the revelry of the festival…”
“Meaning your mother,” I interjected with a grin.
“Well, yes, mother.” At least this time she had the decency to look a little embarrassed. “She’s the only one who would have cared. Not pleased, I’m sure. Toris or Lyceus would have either been envious or impressed.” She was thoughtful a moment more and added “Deo and Iris were their names. Huh. It’s been a long time since I’ve thought about them.”
“Did it hurt?” I asked wondering if Perdicus and I had somehow performed the task incorrectly.
“It was uncomfortable at first, when he was inside of me but,” she smiled, fondly remembering her encounter “They were both very skilled and patient lovers and it was a very nice experience. She especially had a way of distracting me from any discomfort.” Her expression darkened a little and she added, “I’m sorry Perdicus wasn’t a better lover,” she said.
I shrugged. What was past, was past. “I don’t think he was very experienced and certainly, I was no help. I think my heart just wasn’t in it. Now that we have…well anyway, now that I have something to compare my experiences to, I think there was just this missing piece – I didn’t feel as fulfilled with him as I do with you.”
Xena finished her tea and looked out towards the horizon before responding. I couldn’t see the waves, but I could hear them taunting me and I looked forward to traveling inland. The warmth of the fire was reassuring, as if it would ward off the ocean.
“Gabrielle,” she began thoughtfully, “I can say that from my own experience, relationships vary greatly, both in how fulfilling they are and in what you want or need from them. The experience with Deo and Iris; I wasn’t looking for anything more than a night of fucking and that’s what I got. The stakes were low. I was ready to begin that part of my life and they were happy to introduce me. In my warlord days, sex was pretty transactional, usually to get something on my part, or to distract someone, or to pass the time when I was bored. I never looked for love, so I wasn’t disappointed when I didn’t find it. There were some relationships that were more meaningful, but even so, I wasn’t capable of – I’m in a much better place now, thanks in large part to you.”
She did it again and I noticed but I kept my expression neutral, just listening to her tale. I had no doubt that Xena loved me, truly and deeply loved me. But it just wasn’t something we said to each other. I had no doubt she knew that was how I felt about her too, but for some reason, we always stopped short of uttering the words. I wondered if she thought that talking about how we loved each other would somehow tempt the gods or something, like her habit of introducing me as her “friend.” It didn’t matter; her proclamations to me in sweet sighs and sultry moans were more than enough.
“And it’s always been men and women equally?” I asked curiously.
She gazed at the fire for a moment before answering, “I wouldn’t say ‘equal’ but yes. I do enjoy sex with men when I’m in the mood for that.” Her gaze shifted; her expression haunted. “As broken as I was at the time, I loved Borias to the degree I was able. The fact that we’d created a life together, Solan, put something special between us. I can’t think of him apart from that final gift. I can’t say my relationships with men and women are the same, because every person is different, but there is something slightly different in relationships between the two. If I had to choose one over the other…” she saw me lean forward and winked at me, brightening. “I think I’d pick women. Especially one woman in particular.” After a moment she added, “Are you asking me to choose, Gabrielle?”
I was taken back by her words because it hadn’t occurred to me that sharing her affection would be necessary now that we were lovers. “I guess I hadn’t considered that before,” I admitted. “Sharing you, which brings us back to Ulysses. Xena, he was talking about leaving Ithaca, traveling around with us. And it seemed like you’d be okay with that, without consulting me. What if that had happened? Would it be the three of us sharing a bed? I mean, how would that even work?”
Xena looked uncomfortable. “Hypotheticals are not my favorite, Gabrielle. But since you asked, if Ulysses had chosen to leave Ithaca, then it would be up to the two of us – you and me – to determine exactly how he would fit into our life. I should have talked to you about this before, and I am sorry I didn’t. Would I have enjoyed a tumble with him? Probably so, but only if it were something you were comfortable with. I would not take a lover behind your back, Gabrielle. Secondly,” she added shifting her gaze to downright smoldering, “until you’ve spent an evening with a couple of lovers focused intently on pleasuring you at the same time, fulfilling your every whim and fancy, I wouldn’t knock it. Think about it, getting kissed in two places at once…”
There is no doubt I started blushing but I’m certain the glow of the firelight hid it all the same. “Yes…well…” she knew she’d distracted me but I rebounded. “But you do intend to sleep with men at some point?” I asked uncertainly, shifting focus from what she and another lover might do to me together. I had to admit, the thought was intriguing.
Xena sighed. Clearly, the questions were taking their toll on her, but she also did her best to answer as truthfully and diplomatically as she could. When it was just the two of us, I could think of no subject that seemed to be off-limits.
“If you were to ask me if I thought that for the rest of my days, I would never sleep with another man I would say I thought that unlikely, but at the same time if you were to ask me if I felt like anything was missing from our relationship, I’d say ‘no’ to that as well. Besides, Gabrielle – maybe someday we will encounter a man, or a woman that you want to invite to our bed. Or even if there is someone you wanted to sleep with without me, I hope you’d tell me.”
“To cheat on you?” I asked surprised. I could not think of anything that could be further from my mind.
“I don’t think of it that way. Not if you tell me what you’re feeling. I want all good things for you Gabrielle, I want you to have every experience that you want. If that means trying something out, without me, I’d want to have a conversation. I’m not going to automatically break anyone’s arms or anything.” She looked at me for a moment before adding, “The way some of those pirates pawed at you on Ulysses ship when you were dancing, well, there were a few arms there I wanted to break.”
I was flattered, there was no denying it. I caught Xena’s eye while I was distracting the men, I knew she appreciated the show.
“I think you did break a few arms,” I replied.
“So, it’s settled then.” Xena readied her bedroll, making a space for me to join her.
“What’s settled?” I asked, putting our empty tea cups to the side and adding a little more wood to the dying fire.
“For the time being, adventures on dry land and no one else in our bed.”
I stretched out next to my love and kissed her softly, “I think that is a fantastic plan. Tell me again how much you liked my dancing…”
I didn’t hurry collecting fire wood; I wanted Cyrene and Xena to have all the time they needed before I returned. Returning to camp, I watched from the shadow of the trees, out of earshot as Xena sat with her mother, arm tenderly and protectively wrapped around her. How very like Xena; after the excruciating ordeal she’d had, her primary concern was someone else. They spoke in hushed tones for long minutes before Xena gave her a final hug and they parted. Cyrene made herself busy at what would be our cookfire.
Beyond relieved to have Xena once again healthy and whole, I couldn’t help but think of all the times that she cared for me when I was hurt or in danger and that I would always do the same for her, even if I felt overwhelmed by the task. I shuddered, remembering the time Callisto had taken my love out of commission with a poisoned dart. I was so fearful then, more terrified by the possibility of a life without her than the anxiety of posing as her. While I couldn’t fully articulate the depth of my feelings for Xena then, I knew that a life without her seemed impossibly bleak. This I had learned in my time away from her. Then there was her death of course. That memory sent a chill down my spine. I also remembered all of the times she’d cared for me in all manner of sickness or injury. I wondered which was more frightening for her – worrying about me, or worrying about needing to be taken care of? I waited a moment more at the stand of trees before purposefully stepping on a twig to signal my return. I knew that Xena knew exactly where I was, but felt it rude not to signal anyway.
“Here is the rest of the wood,” I announced, making my way out of the forest, arms laden with sticks and branches of various girth.
“Thank you, Gabrielle,” Cyrene said warmly. “If you’d just stack it there. Xena, could you be a dear and see if you can find us a rabbit perhaps, and some herbs? I will fix supper, but I think something more substantial than bread and cheese would be nice.”
Xena glanced a little apprehensively between her mother and me before mumbling, “Sure.” and leaving us.
We both watched as Xena disappeared into the woods then glanced back at each other. I looked down perhaps uncomfortably. When I glanced up again, she was still gazing at me and I forced a smile to my face, hoping to mask my nervousness. I suddenly felt very alone without my warrior.
“Gabrielle, I want to thank you, with all my heart, for being in Xena’s life,” she said as she busied herself at the fire.
“Of course, Cyrene.”
She continued as if I’d not spoken. “It was a brave thing to go off in search of Orstes. Love is a wonderous thing but the pitfalls can be profound, you have to know that.”
“I would do anything for Xena,” I said without thinking. I’d not intended to be so blunt even though Xena assured me that by now Cyrene had long figured out the nature of our relationship.
Cyrene smiled at me and it didn’t reach her eyes. “I know you would, love,” she said, her voice warm and motherly. “There was a time when I loved Xena’s father, and I had three beautiful children with him. Oh, but that second child, my beautiful little girl. I fell in love with her from the moment I laid eyes on her and when it mattered, my love for her was greater. We do all sorts of things for the people we love, we nurture them, protect them, and if need be, we kill for them.” Mutely I nodded. I wasn’t sure what to say. Fortunately, she continued, filling the silence that had fallen between us. “It is not an easy thing to be in love with a warrior. They forget themselves when they are among...”
“People who aren’t warriors?” I offered.
She nodded. “Sometimes they can be quick to anger, and if they strike…” she left that last bit hanging. “I know Xena is aware of the danger she can be to others. She has a lot that she will atone for, for the rest of her days, long after you may feel she’s balanced the scales.”
“I know that Xena would never hurt me,” I protested. Which I suppose was a bold statement in that she’d just had a dagger over her mother’s heart not three hours ago and there had been a couple of moments when she’d forgotten herself and lashed out at me. But that bit with the dagger was clearly a trap for Ares. Besides, Xena had tied me to a tree to avoid the prospect of hurting me.
“My child,” she said gently, “you don’t know that, you can’t. I have no doubt that Xena’s love for you is genuine. But she is a target of the Gods, and anyone worthy of a God’s notice is going to live a life full of the unpredictable. I am grateful to my core that the two of you found each other, but my dear, I need to know that you journey with her having open eyes to the danger.”
I was quiet for long moments before I responded. She needed to know my heart as clearly as I could articulate the words. There was no doubt to the depth of her concern for me and in just a couple of short years my lover’s mother had often shown more affection and love for me than my own parents did back home.
“I understand. As long as it is within my power to do so, I will be at Xena’s side ready to deal with whatever nasty scheme Ares has in mind. I don’t know that I could kill, but I think that if it were to protect Xena, I would.” I held her gaze for a moment. “As you did.”
She looked at me, her face full of sadness and experience; her eyes holding unshed tears. “My dear, taking a life leaves a stain that you can never wash clean, even if you do not regret your actions, only that your actions were necessary. I hope that never befalls you.”
As she finished her preparations with the fire Xena returned from the woods with a rabbit in one hand and some plants in the other. “I even found some mushrooms,” she announced proudly after depositing the vegetation near Cyrene. “I’ll clean the rabbit,” she added, walking a short distance from our campsite.
Cyrene passed me our small cook pot. “Please dear, take this to Xena for the meat, and a water skin to clean herself up.”
I nodded and did as I was asked, stopping at Argo’s saddle bag to get the small towel we used for such occasions. “Everything okay with mother?” Xena asked as I approached.
With calm efficiency she’d skinned our dinner and was grateful for the pot, the water and cloth. “She’s fine,” I assured her. “Tired perhaps from the day’s excitement, I think also worried about you.”
~~~~~~
As I watched Gabrielle walk away from the fire I wondered again if it were the Fates or the Gods that put this woman in the path of my daughter. While I doubted her awareness of it, I sensed in her a strength, both a toughness and flexibility, that would let her move through this world at my child’s side. She was good for Xena, she had a kindness and softness where my daughter held absolutes and I had no doubt that Xena’s strength and resolve helped buttress any insecurities or uncertainty Gabrielle felt.
Gazing down at the fire I couldn’t help but remember that night oh so long ago. It seemed strange that my husband was back from war albeit so briefly. I knew something wasn’t right but I didn’t care. I didn’t care because I was so happy to see him, and I didn’t care because I enjoyed the sensation of being swept off my feet by the man I believed him to be. I didn’t care when he was gone the next morning and I dozed in satisfied contentment. He was home for good when he fathered Lycus, when Xena was just a baby and it wasn’t until she got older that the suspicions grew.
The Furies, the Fates, the Gods, there seemed to be an endless barrage of immortals who enjoyed nothing more than meddling in the lives of men and women trying to do nothing more than make their way in the world. I did my part; I prayed to any number of Goddesses and left the appropriate offerings in the temples hoping against hope that the life of my daughter would have an easier time in this world than her mother. Athena, Aphrodite, Artemis; I hoped that at least one of them would find my offerings worthy and look after my little girl. Most of the time I felt that my prayers had not been answered, but looking up to see Xena and Gabrielle heading back to the camp site, the young woman walking confidently at my child’s side, I had to consider that perhaps my prayers had indeed been answered after all; love radiated between them.
“Mother,” Xena said as she handed me the cook pot. I browned the meat before adding some water and a bit of wine, letting the meat cook down before adding the mushrooms and other plants. I tried to stay unobtrusive as I watched them move about their evening rituals. Care and affection colored their voices as they spoke to each other. Xena went about her evening ritual brushing her horse, gently singing to the mare. Gabrielle asked me if I needed any help then sat down to write for a bit when I told her I did not.
I felt like and intruder and welcomed simultaneously. It was clear to me that Xena and Gabrielle were going about their usual evening as they recovered from whatever adventure that had befallen them that day. It did not escape me that this time was precious to them, something that only the most trusted in their circle would have been allowed to observe.
“Xena,” Gabrielle called over as she wrote in her scrolls.
“Yeah?” Xena answered from the trees.
“Could you describe at all what the madness was like?”
Xena returned to the fire and put the brush back in the saddle bag. “Exactly what are you going to write about?” she asked quietly, unconsciously glancing in my direction.
Immediately Gabrielle understood. Subtle gestures and signals said volumes between the two. “Just that you battled the Furies and bested Ares, again,” she explained. “The focus here is that even under a madness imposed by the Furies at Ares’ behest, you still outsmarted him. I wasn’t going to go into any more detail than that.”
Xena nodded in approval. I was grateful for the consideration. I had no desire to be known far and wide as a murderer. Most people did not understand the distinction between regretting one’s actions and regretting that those actions had to be taken.
Taking a seat between her bard and myself, Xena looked thoughtfully into the fire before responding.
“It was like that feeling, when you’re floating on your back in a lake. You feel the water at your ears and you’re slow to sink down where the water covers your face. You can feel it happening but are powerless to stop it. Under the water everything is jumbled; impulses, reactions…it was like I could see myself doing things that didn’t make sense, and I’d try to respond in a way that did make sense, and it still came out wrong. There were brief moments of my head bobbing above the water, like getting a lung full of air. and those were moments of clarity, then it was back into the lake.” She shrugged, hoping that would be enough.
I noticed that Gabrielle did not write while Xena was talking. She sat with her hands folded over her scroll, listening intently to my daughter, her eyes empathetic and concerned. “That must have been really frightening,” she said softly to Xena before picking up her scroll.
Xena looked uncomfortable, so I took that moment to announce that dinner was ready. Gabrielle extracted a couple of plates and bread from the saddle bag. I served the bard and myself, knowing that Xena would be happy eating from the cooking pot.
“Cyrene, this is delicious,” Gabrielle said happily after tasting some of the stew on some bread. “Even better than those little dumplings with the red stuff inside,” she added with a smirk.
“Oh, you’ve found Xena’s sweet-tooth,” I teased. My daughter chuckled good naturedly but said nothing. “How about a story while we eat?” I suggested.
Xena’s eyes lit up, “Oh, tell her the one about the Bacchae,” she urged. “Mother enjoys a good tale of suspense.”
Gabrielle nodded and told the story of their adventure with the head of Orpheus and besting Bacchus as the darkness of night settled around us like a shawl. It was an intense, well told tale, and I was impressed again at Gabrielle’s skill as a bard. When she finished, I offered to clean up the dishes but Xena said they could wait until morning when all three of us would stop by the Strymon river on our way back to my home in Amphipolis.
“Just in case Electo and her sisters are still out looking for trouble.”
Feeling that I’d intruded enough on their evening, I made myself comfortable on my bedroll, laying down with my back to the fire, affording them what little privacy I could.
“Are you sure you’re okay Cyrene?” Gabrielle asked, “we have another bedroll if you’d like that for a blanket?”
“No, my dear,” I replied. “The night is plenty warm. Goodnight my daughters,” I said before settling in and waiting for sleep.
~~~~~~
Just like that, she laid it all out and made it all so simple. Gabrielle was family, accepted and valued because I loved her. Mother was happy that I’d found love, and my choice was good enough for her.
“Do you think Electo and the others still have designs on you?” Gabrielle asked softly, her voice tinged with concern.
“I think they’re angrier with Ares than me at the moment,” I replied. “But you never know how a story is going to get turned around once it makes it way to Mount Olympus.” The past several days played out over and over in my mind. Madness unfortunately did not hamper my memory and every humiliating scene was available for recall with crystal clarity.
“Here,” Gabrielle said, breaking into my thoughts. “Let me help you with your boots, I know you hurt your feet…”
“Running through the woods naked,” I supplied. I glanced over at where my mother was feigning sleep, trying to give us space. It was very kind of her. Shifting my position, I offered my foot to Gabrielle who had pulled a small urn of salve from Argo’s saddlebag. It worked on all manner of injury. “I should go back to that village and apologize,” I said as Gabrielle lovingly worked the salve over the cuts and scrapes on my foot. She massaged the knots at my arches and ball of my foot which had me sighing in delight.
“We can go if you want,” she replied. “But I worry that you’re taking on the responsibility for something that was completely out of your control.”
“You think they’ll be just as frightened of me?” I asked, reading her expression. “That I’ll just feel worse if we go?”
My bard was silent a moment before answering, “I think they will be frightened at first. And I think they will come around when you patiently explain to them what happened.” She shrugged. “Let’s get your mother home first and then decide?” she asked. I nodded as she tapped my foot to let her help with that one too.
“This wouldn’t have turned out the same without you Gabrielle,” I said. Inwardly I cringed. I should have just told her that she’d saved me, as I’d felt that she’d saved me so many times in the past be it from loneliness, sadness, or any number of things. But pride is stubborn and the words wouldn’t form.
“Why? Because I reminded you to put the pinch on a guy?”
I nodded. “Persuading me to go to the temple of the Furies, taking the trek to find Orestes, taking me away from that village…” my voice started to crack and turned away, looking into the flames of the fire for distraction. Gabrielle, so like her to know what I needed without having to say it, gave me a moment before she spoke.
“Xena, you have saved my life more times than I can count. You’ve taught me things and shared your life with me. Our agreement is that we take care of each other, and that means that on rare occasion, I take care of you, and, once in a blue moon I turn you into a Bacchae.” I smiled at that but she wasn’t finished. “Xena, when it counted, when it really counted, you saw through your madness. You saw through it enough to let me take you to the temple, to let me take you away from the village. You even tied me to a tree to keep me safe. Xena, I worry that I don’t ever say it but that you may need to hear it: I don’t fear you. I’m not afraid of you in madness, and I’m certainly not afraid of you in sanity.”
I smiled at that, hoping to my core that I would never give her a reason to fear me, yet still fearful that with all of my darkness plastered over with a thin veneer of resolve I couldn’t know for certain. She joined me on my bedroll and continued.
“Besides, it’s probably good for you to have to be taken care of once in a while. You never ask for it and sometimes the Fates have a way of handing you what you need.”
“Hades! Please don’t bring them into it.”
She chuckled and made herself comfortable near me, not in the customary space of her head resting on my shoulder but close. I understood. While the night was indeed warm, that wasn’t it. She was respecting my space with mother present. While she was closer than she’d be with Joxer or Autolycus present, she was erring on the side of modesty where my mother was concerned. In moments I heard the steady breathing of sleep.
I stared at the night sky for long moments while the memory of madness played through my mind. While I might not be able to admit it to Gabrielle, I needed to admit it to myself; this had scared me, more than anything in recent memory. Not knowing what to believe, what was real, or being able to trust myself and having my perception inverted – even the memories now hours old still brought a bitterness to my mouth and set my heart racing. Neither Mother or Gabrielle had really known exactly how much danger they were in.
“She won’t leave you, you know,” my mother said softly from her place at the fire.
“I know,” I whispered back. “And that worries me.”
She sat up and looked at me, barely lit by the dying fire. “She trusts you. You need to trust her.”
“There was a time when you did not trust me.” At the time, I may have acted like I didn’t care, but being shunned by Mother and made a pariah in Amphipolis hurt more than I’d like to admit.
Her expression was sad as she nodded. “I was right not to trust you, Xena. You were in the throes of your devotion to Ares which was leading you down a path of darkness as it had for your father. Like Gabrielle, I knew my own mind. I made the choice to shut you out, just as she has made the choice to stay by your side. My darling Xena, you can’t make other people’s choices for them. Not on this path.”
I nodded; she was right. I smiled at her before settling down to try and sleep, “I’m just grateful for you both.”