Warrior Is – Season 1: Teach Me to Live, Teach Me to Breathe

111: The Black Wolf

The water was cold when Gabrielle splashed it over her face and arms. She was crouched along the bank of a shallow stream, washing up and refilling their waterskins while Xena finished packing up camp in the early morning light. She was running her wet hands through her hair a few times, detangling it, when she heard the soft thumping of Argo’s hooves as Xena approached. Worldlessly, Xena hooked the reins over a branch and knelt next to Gabrielle at the water’s edge. The stream chuckled past cheerfully, reflecting the bright sunlight back at them, making dancing lights before Gabrielle’s eyes.

Xena splashed herself a few times before pulling out her small dagger. She leaned over the water. Gabrielle watched, curious. She’d seen Xena catch fish with her bare hands, so she couldn’t imagine what the dagger was needed for. Her curiosity changed to horror as Xena peered at her own reflection, then proceeded to grab a chunk of hair and start sawing at it with the dagger.

“What are you doing?” Gabrielle reached out to grab Xena’s wrist, but she twisted away and kept hacking, a few dark wisps falling to the ground.

“It’s in my eyes,” she said matter of factly. “I have to trim my bangs back so I can see.” She hadn’t turned to look at Gabrielle, just kept her fierce look of concentration as she reached for another lock.

“With a knife, Xena?” Gabrielle was shocked. “You know there are better tools than that.” Xena frowned and turned the dagger between her fingers.

“It’s my smallest one,” She said.

“By the gods, Xena, how did you survive all this time?” Gabrielle stood and went over to Argo, rummaging in the packs for a moment. When she stepped away she had a small pair of shears in her hand. “I’m surprised you didn’t just bounce your chakram off a wall and close your eyes and hope it cut a straight line.” Xena gave her a glaring smolder, but laughter danced in her eyes.

“That’s a good idea. I’ll have to try that next.” She reached for the shears as Gabrielle approached her.

Gabrielle ignored the request and instead grabbed Xena’s hand. “Come here.” She heaved her off the bank and led her a few feet away to a large rock. “Sit,” she instructed. Xena obeyed, forcibly reminded of her mother grabbing her by the scruff of her neck and plopping her on a barstool to attempt to rake a comb through her hair as a child. She eyed Gabrielle uneasily as Gabrielle bent down and took her bangs between two fingers.

They were almost nose to nose as Gabrielle worked, lightly snipping the tips of some sections and gently thinning others. Instead of chunks falling to the ground, a shower of tiny hairs floated away after Gabrielle ruffled her fingers through the front of Xena’s hair. Xena fought to keep her eyes open as Gabrielle’s fingers briefly scratched her scalp.

“There,” Gabrielle said with satisfaction. “Fit for fighting without having to shear yourself like a sheep.” Xena huffed and ran her fingers through her hair, fluffing her bangs out and shaking her head to see if they fell into her eyes.

“Thanks,” she said. “Want me to do yours?”

“Absolutely not.” Gabrielle held the shears like a sword, with the pointed end towards Xena. “The day I let you cut my hair will be the day our friendship ends.” Xena laughed.

“I’ll stay far away then. Come on.” She got to her feet and headed towards Argo. “This horse needs some exercise, I’m going to run her to the next village and I’ll meet you there, okay? Argos is just past that rise there.” She pointed with her chin, hands busy tightening Argo’s straps.

“Riding Argo to Argos,” Gabrielle smiled. “There’s a poem in there somewhere.”

Argo snorted. Xena did too. “You work on that, you can tell it to me in the tavern tonight.” She swung herself up onto Argo and urged her to a trot and then a canter. Gabrielle picked up her staff and set off at a much more sedate pace.

Xena leaned back in her chair, observing the conversation thoughtfully. The ale in Argos wasn’t too bad, she decided. Gabrielle had insisted they bring the Black Wolf herself, Flora, as well as some of her friends to the tavern with them to enjoy a raucous meal, flush with their victory. Xena had never been much for crowds, and after a day in the dungeon surrounded by other people, she wasn’t keen on it. But she supposed it was the polite thing to do. Now they were fed and tongues were loosening over their drinks.

“So Amphipolis really seems to spit out incredible warriors,” Gabrielle was saying, looking from Xena to Flora. “I wonder if it’s something in the water there.”

“I don’t think it was Amphipolis,” said Flora, laughing. “It was Xena herself that made me want to fight. She was just the bravest girl I’d ever seen. All I wanted was to be like her.” Xena leaned forward heavily and thunked her tankard on the table.

“Yeah, well, thank the gods you aren’t,” she said. “You’ve got it right Flora, fight for the greater good, but don’t be anything like me.”

“Oh, please.” Gabrielle put a hand on Xena’s arm. Xena swiftly pulled it away, seizing her tankard again. “Ignore her. It sounds like she taught you a lot of useful things when you were young.”

“Sure did,” Flora seemed excited to share. “From swinging a sword to tying a knot to riding a horse, I followed her everywhere until she taught me to do the things she did.”

Gabrielle leaned her elbows on the table intently, both hands clasped around her own mug of ale. “Do you have any good stories about Xena when she was younger? Did she ever make a fool of herself, even once?”

That, Xena decided, was a step too far. “Wow, look at the sundial, Gabrielle, we’d best be on our way.” She finished the last of her tankard and seized Gabrielle’s, finishing that off too, ignoring the indignant “Hey!” as she stole her drink. “Great to see you all, keep in touch.” And with that, she seized the back of Gabrielle’s shirt and heaved her to her feet.

“What was that for?” Gabrielle protested, as Xena steered her towards the exit. Xena looked down at her.

“Lesson number one, Gabrielle. Never give a bard too much information.” With that, she swung the tavern door open and held it. Gabrielle preceded her, marching with an annoyed air towards where Argo was hitched.

112: Beware Greeks Bearing Gifts

The journey between Mount Poulis and Troy was a miserable one. They had planned on moving much quicker, but a raging thunderstorm hit them as they entered the foothills. Xena had navigated the slippery rocks with grace, as per usual. Gabrielle had scrambled soddenly after her for the better part of an hour before they found a cave big enough for them and Argo to shelter in. Xena took her time setting up Argo in the back of the cave with some grain from her pack. She instructed Gabrielle to collect firewood.

This wasn’t an unusual instruction, but Gabrielle was sulking as she set to work. The rain was coming down in icy sheets. She wanted nothing more than to curl up in the cave in some dry clothes but instead she was slipping and sliding across the patchy stretches of tree and scrub and rock, drenched to her bones. The wind was high at this elevation, and it whipped her wet hair into her face. Because the trees were more spread out, it took longer to collect branches. She noted grimly that the branches were also soaked, and unlikely to burn well.

“Pointless,” she snarled under her breath as she staggered back to the cave with the third armful of soggy wood. Her back ached from walking up and down slopes for the past few days, and she had slipped and scraped her knee on the final trip back to the cave. When she entered, Xena had already shed her soaked leathers in favour of a thick, warm tunic. Her long black hair was tied up, and she was rubbing her armour dry with a piece of linen to prevent rust. Her boots were thrown over a boulder to drain, and she was seated, crosslegged and barefoot on her fur bedroll, looking positively cosy.

Gabrielle dropped her final load of wood on the sandy floor with a clatter. Xena looked up at her, but didn’t say anything. Gabrielle immediately moved to the neatly arranged saddlebags to get changed. She wrung her hair out as she shivered. Xena had returned to her armour. Gabrielle watched her for a moment, scowling. She had expected Xena to jump up and start working on the fire so she could rest for a few minutes before starting on dinner. It had only taken a couple of Xena’s attempts at cooking for Gabrielle to take it over entirely. Xena seemed to have endless tolerance for food that was bland, undercooked, overcooked, or downright foul. She barely seemed to notice what she ate, as long as it sent fuel to her muscles. Gabrielle was used to home cooking and had found the adjustment difficult. Nevertheless, she generally insisted on cooking so that they could have something half decent for meals.

“You know, you could get the fire started,” Gabrielle said as she tugged a dry tunic over her head.

“Way too wet for that,” Xena said without looking up. “We’ll eat cold rations.”

“Then why was I out there collecting wood if we aren’t even going to use it?”

“We needed to get some in here to start drying, then we can have a fire later tonight.” Xena spoke slowly, like she was explaining something to a simpleton.

“Don’t talk to me like that,” Gabrielle snapped. Xena looked up, surprised.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m some dumb kid!”

“What happened to your leg?” A crease appeared between Xena’s brows as she nodded to the bloody scrape on Gabrielle’s knee.

“Slipped,” Gabrielle muttered. She collapsed on her bedroll and turned her back to Xena to begin unlacing her boots. She heard a rustle behind her.

“Let me look at it.” Xena moved over, grabbing her bag of healing supplies on the way.

“No, it’s fine.” Gabrielle threw her boots aside as her back gave a painful twinge and her hair trickled cold water down her back. She felt itchy, irritated and cold down to her very soul.

“Don’t be ridiculous, let me see,” Xena insisted, crouching next to her.

“I’m not ridiculous!” Gabrielle said shrilly, pulling her leg out of Xena’s grasp. She couldn’t even identify why she was so upset, but she cursed quietly as she felt her eyes well with tears. Great, she thought. Crying over a scraped knee will definitely help Xena treat me like an adult.

Xena sat down. “Gabrielle.” It wasn’t the usual warning drawl she said her name in. “What’s going on?” Gabrielle had thought maybe she could get away with subtly wiping her eyes but there was no hiding from Xena’s piercing gaze. It didn’t help that she sniffled.

“My knee hurts and my back aches and I’m cold and wet and we don’t even have hot food to eat and you’re right, now I’m just a whining little kid.” She made to turn away but Xena put a hand on her leg, keeping her in place. She opened her healing kit and began cleaning the cut on Gabrielle’s knee. Gabrielle laid back and put her hands over her face. Now she’d really done it. Xena would certainly send her home. She’d begged to tag along and here she was, crying after a hard day’s walk.

“I know you’re not a kid.” Xena’s voice was as gentle as her hands as she wrapped a light bandage around Gabrielle’s leg. “How long has your back been bothering you?”

“A few days.” Gabrielle slung her forearm over her eyes so she didn’t have to look at Xena while she complained.

“Gabrielle, you have to tell me when you’re hurt,” said Xena. She nudged Gabrielle’s side, coaxing her to roll onto her stomach so she could take a better look. “It’s better for us to take frequent, short rests than to push too hard and have you laid up for weeks.” Her hands pressed into Gabrielle’s lower back over her tunic, seeking out the tight, knotted muscles at the base of her spine. She pulled a small pot of unguent from her healing kit and tugged Gabrielle’s tunic up slightly. She spread it slowly over the skin there. When she was done, she said, “Promise you’ll tell me next time you need to stop, okay?”

The only response from Gabrielle was a soft snore.

Gabrielle was quiet for a few days. Xena almost welcomed the silence, but it seemed that whatever was still bothering her had scrambled Gabrielle’s brains. She was so preoccupied she forgot to pick up supplies in the village at the bottom of the mountain, forcing them to ration their remaining food strictly as they came upon Troy. Both hungry and grumpy now, they walked mostly in silence. The call from Helen was a good distraction for Xena. She could put her discomfort aside and focus on a problem.

She’d noticed that Gabrielle was also distracted once they arrived in Troy. Having barely spoken for several days, she was now constantly on Perdicas’s arm, chattering away with a broad smile Xena hadn’t seen for a while. She wondered if Gabrielle would stay with Perdicas. Perhaps they would head back to Potadeia together. The idea bothered her. It hadn’t been that long ago that Gabrielle was complaining that her betrothed was a dullard and a farm boy. Now that he was a soldier, she seemed to have forgotten the dullard part. Gabrielle had been adamant she didn’t want to be a farmer’s wife. From Xena’s perspective, a soldier’s wife was nearly the same thing except the husband would be around less. It irked her to picture Gabrielle alone in a hut next door to her parents, pregnant with Perdicas’s child while he was off fighting. She shook her head. Once again, she had to remind herself, it wasn’t her business.

The most frustrating part was that they didn’t have any time together to talk about it. Not that Xena would have known how to bring it up. But she would have liked to know what to expect. Would she be travelling alone from here on? Was Perdicas going to join them? Was she going to be sharpening her sword by the light of the fire while a giggling couple set up their bedroll a few feet away? The thought grated on her nerves.

She had to give herself credit for managing to avoid Gabrielle while they were barricaded in Aphrodite’s temple together with the rest of the townspeople. Luckily, it seemed that no commander in the Trojan army was prepared to come up with an escape plan, so Xena had to do it herself. It was a good excuse to ignore Gabrielle and Perdicas, only speaking to them when her planning required it. When Gabrielle came to her with questions, Xena barely looked at her.

When the fighting was finally over, Gabrielle pulled Perdicas aside. Something had lit up inside her upon seeing him again. He wasn’t the boy she remembered. He was brave, he’d protected her, and when he’d avenged his friend’s death with a single shot of an arrow, she had to admit she was impressed by him. He was just like her now: he’d left Potadeia, seeking a life of his own. He’d learned to fight, just like she was. He’d found a greater purpose outside of what their parents had planned for them. She was ready to put voice to it, to say something to him, but he spoke first.

“I just want you to know that I don’t expect anything from you,” he said. She frowned, and took a breath. Again, he cut her off. “As far as I’m concerned, we can go our separate ways.”

Her heart sank. It was a gentle rejection, she had to be thankful for that. It was easy to laugh it off and agree.

“Right… right! That’s exactly what I was thinking.” She hoped he didn’t see the pained way she smiled. It seemed he did not. He kissed her; this one a goodbye. When she’d kissed him in the temple, she thought it might be the start of something. He was already bookending the experience with a final kiss.

“You take care of yourself.” He smiled and clapped her on the shoulder. Next thing she knew, he was headed off into the distance with Helen, the most beautiful woman in the known world. Gabrielle slumped against her staff and watched them go. A gentle hand on her back startled her. She turned to see Xena, watching the pair as well.

“I thought Perdicas would be joining us for a while,” she said.

“No.” Gabrielle hitched her bag higher on her shoulder. “I think he’s made other plans.”

She didn’t see Xena’s small smile behind her.

113: Athens City Academy of the Performing Bards

Gabrielle watched Xena leave the tavern, swallowing down the lump that had risen in her throat. She’d made the decision to pursue the storytelling competition, and Xena had a cyclops to take care of. Parting ways made sense. Xena’s final words echoed. “Thank you for being my family.” Gabrielle impatiently brushed away the tears threatening to fall. This was her passion, her future, her destiny. She wished they had hugged before Xena left.

There was nothing for it. She finished her drink and joined the caravan headed to Athens. The entire time, she turned stories over in her head, selecting the best ones for the competition. A good balance of action, emotion, humour, and drama was the key. At least there was plenty of all that in her travels with Xena.

Her single night camping with the caravan was strange. There were enough people and chatter that Gabrielle felt perfectly safe, but she still felt vulnerable without Xena. Traders sat around the fire, discussing the markets of Athens. A few women and children were there too, journeying to the city for one reason or another. She saw the boy from the tavern and his father, but decided to stay away from the pair for the journey; she didn’t want to say anything she’d regret to the crotchety old man. She wanted to talk with the boy again, but decided she would have plenty of time to do that at the Academy.

Gabrielle opted out of joining the other travellers for the evening meal, and instead ate some of her own rations from her pack, and nestled down into her bedroll. It felt cold, even though it was the same one she’d been using for months. She had a hard time falling asleep, feeling strangely exposed at the campsite. There was nothing unique about it, just another flat patch of ground near the road, like so many she had spent nights on before. The only difference this time was that Xena wasn’t here.

After her misadventure, Gabrielle set off from Athens at a brisk pace. She’d won the competition, and only after being awarded her spot at the Academy did she realize she didn’t want it. Every story she’d told over the last few days had her longing to get back on the road and make more of them. Sure, the Academy could teach her plenty about penmanship and grammar and vocal techniques, but it couldn’t teach her what it was like to live these stories. Only one person could do that.

She knew Xena would be coming from Ceramus, assuming she’d already handled the cyclops business there. She couldn’t imagine it would have taken longer than a couple of days. It was even possible Xena had wrapped up and moved on ages ago. She picked up her pace, ensuring she was headed in the right direction.

As she walked, she mused over what she would tell Xena. That she’d won? That she’d had a change of heart? Would Xena even want her to keep tagging along? Troy wasn’t too far in their past, and she’d considered abandoning her journey for Perdicas then. She shook her head. Something in her was always looking for excuses to leave, to return to a settled life. She couldn’t put her finger on what it was, but she promised herself that she would stick by Xena’s side much more closely for the foreseeable future. When she came around a bend and spotted Argo’s coat and ambling pace, her spirits lifted. Bracing herself for a tearful reunion, she broke into a run.

Halfway towards Xena she lost her nerve. She wondered if Xena was angry. She wondered if she’d sent her right back to the Academy, citing her destiny. Images of throwing herself into Xena’s arms, Xena picking her up and spinning her around, quickly faded from her mind. If Xena had abandoned her to pursue her own selfish ends and then came crawling back, she knew she’d be furious. Her stomach tightened. Perhaps she was about to find out what a true, purposeful punch from Xena felt like. She tried for nonchalance.

“Hi,” she said, slipping into step next to Xena and Argo. Maybe if she pretended nothing had happened, everything would be fine.

“So who won?” asked Xena. Gabrielle let out a breath of relief. So they didn’t have to argue after all.

“I did.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

Gabrielle smiled. Xena didn’t sound angry. If anything, she sounded pleased. “I realized that while they’re telling adventures, you and I can be living them.”

“Well it’s good to have you back.” Xena offered her a rare genuine smile. Her eyes, normally so cold, sparkled with what Gabrielle could only identify as affection. She blushed.

114: A Fistful of Dinars

“So what are you going to do with the bracelet?” Gabrielle asked. She nodded to the gold chain in Xena’s hands, gifted from her ex-betrothed who now lay dead inside the ambrosia cavern. Xena was quiet. It had been a long walk down from the volcano and into the nearest town. They were both exhausted and covered in soot, and she’d had too much time with her own thoughts. She looked over at Gabrielle.

“Sell it,” she said matter-of-factly.

“What?!” Gabrielle grabbed Xena’s wrist.

“Come on, Gabrielle.” Xena tugged away. “Petracles was a good man, but I was something like sixteen when he proposed to me. I don’t like to hang onto the past, you should know that about me.”

Gabrielle considered for a moment. “I do. The past doesn’t define us, I learned that from you.”

“Well then, let’s look to the future, where this could buy us a meal, a bed, and a bath. Think of it as Petracles’ final good deed.” That got a smile from Gabrielle, finally.

“All right, I’m exhausted. I don’t know why I stayed up all night anyway. You could have kept an eye on Petracles and Thersites without me. I could have gotten some sleep.” She leaned heavily on her staff as they approached the inn. Xena opened the door for her, and ruffled her hair as she ducked past.

“Then who’d keep an eye on me?” Xena asked. Gabrielle scoffed and ignored her, approaching the innkeeper. But before she could commence with a polite greeting, Xena swiftly dropped the bracelet on the bartop and said, “Your nicest room, food and wine, and a bath.”

The innkeeper raised his eyebrows. “No baths here.”

“What?” Gabrielle was dismayed. She couldn’t remember being this sweaty and dirty in her life.

“Lady, we’re at the base of a volcano,” he said, studying the wedding bracelet. “Up the path out back we’ve town hot springs. Not worth it for me to employ a boy to run and heat water.” Gabrielle’s face immediately shone. Baths were already a luxury, but hot baths were almost mythical. “This is worth too much for a night and a meal though,” he continued, holding up the bracelet.

“Then how about a couple hours of closing those springs to the public for us?” Xena asked. She set a hand on Gabrielle’s shoulder, who was practically squirming with excitement.

The innkeeper stroked his beard. “Could do that. Best get going now before the rush. I’ll take these things up to your room.”

Once behind the inn, it was easy to spot the narrow winding trail up to the springs. Gabrielle practically skipped up it, with Xena ambling along behind her. After a short but steep climb, the path widened into a large rocky area, dotted with steaming pools. Gabrielle immediately clambered over the rocks to reach the largest one, squatting to stick her hand in experimentally.

“Xena, this is amazing!” She immediately set to work kicking her boots off.

“You’d think you’d never bathed before, with how excited you are,” Xena laughed, sitting a few feet away and working the buckle on her armour.

“After days of hiking through volcanic dust, I might as well have never bathed,” Gabrielle said. She turned away from Xena, looking eagerly towards the pool as she whisked off her top and shimmied her skirt down her thighs.

Xena laughed again and watched her fondly. She was impressed with the new muscles rippling in Gabrielle’s thighs and back. Though the road could be hard on them sometimes, it was clearly helping Gabrielle build strength. Instead of the wispy girl who she’d originally pulled up behind her on Argo, she looked sturdy and solid. Xena watched her descend into the pool, hearing the long gasp of pleasure Gabrielle let out as the water slid over her.

Xena’s breath caught and she quickly busied herself with her boots. What was she thinking? She had no business looking at Gabrielle, admiring her like that. They had never been shy around each other, that was true, but something felt different. The simmering fondness she held in her chest sparked sometimes when she saw Gabrielle, sending warm shivers through her. She shook her head. Some tough old warlord, she thought to herself. She could almost imagine how folks from her past would laugh at the Destroyer of Nations, blushing at a young maiden at the local hot springs.

She carefully dispensed of her leathers and armour, placing each piece beside each other in her deliberate ritual. She slid into the water after Gabrielle and stifled her own sigh of satisfaction. The hot water felt like it was seeping into her bones, relaxing all her muscles on the way. She waded in up to her neck and closed her eyes, feeling the steam curl peacefully around her. Suddenly, a splash of water hit her in the face. She spluttered, blinking her eyes until they focused on Gabrielle, grinning mischievously from across the pool.

“That was a terrible idea,” Xena growled, pushing her sodden hair out of her face with both hands. Gabrielle laughed.

“You can’t tell me what to -” The rest of her taunt was cut off by a squeal as Xena lunged at her, seizing her by the shoulders and dunking her into the spring. She responded by grabbing Xena’s ankle and yanking on it. Xena noticed, for the first time, that her body didn’t tense the way it used to when Gabrielle touched her. For a long time she’d had to be very aware of her reflexes and consciously stop herself from reacting to a shove or a playful slap. For once, it seemed, her body instinctively knew this was play and not danger, and she allowed herself to be dragged under.

Through the swirling water, her hands found Gabrielle and Xena lifted her into her arms, one arm under her shoulders, the other under her knees. She stood and broke the surface of the water, clamping tight to Gabrielle, who was wriggling like a fish, trying to get away.

“Admit that was a terrible idea,” Xena said.

“Never!” Gabrielle struggled harder and Xena lifted her higher out of the water.

“Say it!”

Gabrielle shrieked as the cool air hit her. “Okay fine, it was a terrible idea!”

With that, Xena gave a mock battle cry and dumped Gabrielle head over heels back into the pool. “Alright come on, we should probably wash before the rest of the town shows up.”

Later, Gabrielle was sprawled on the large bed in their room, wearing a soft linen shift and sifting her fingers through her drying hair. Finally she felt clean and relaxed, and didn’t have to bother with surly assassins or old lovers unexpectedly joining their party. A fire was crackling cheerfully in the grate, and the sun was setting outside the window, shutters open wide to the fresh mountain breeze.

She heard familiar footsteps in the corridor and sat up eagerly. Xena had insisted on going down to the tavern and bringing their meal upstairs, stating that she’d “had enough of company” for a time. Gabrielle reasoned that Xena had probably been even more fed up with Petracles and Thersites than she had been. Xena nudged the door open with her foot and entered, balancing two steaming plates of food, two cups, and a bottle of wine tucked under her arm. Gabrielle got up and rushed to help, relieving Xena of the plates and moving them to the dining table at the far end of their room. Xena seated herself heavily and poured out the wine.

“Cheers.” She lifted her glass and touched it to Gabrielle’s. Gabrielle took a sip and grimaced. It was heavy and savoury, with earthy tones, not the sweet, fruity taste she had been expecting. Xena smirked. “Try it with the food.” She motioned with her fork. Gabrielle obediently took a mouthful of venison, swallowed, and tried the wine again. This time it wasn’t as bitter, and the fat and salt of the meat brought out a smoky flavour as she swished the wine around her mouth.

“Wow,” she said. “That really does make a difference. How on earth did you learn to pair meals with wine?”

Xena offered her a shrug with one shoulder as she shoveled her own food into her mouth. “Many skills.”

Once Xena had cleared their dinner things, Gabrielle had taken over the table with her scrolls. She had a few to add the finishing touches to, and a few more to copy over from scrap parchment onto full scrolls. Xena lounged in a chair by the hearth, poking at the fire absentmindedly. The soft crackle of flames and the scratch of Gabrielle’s quill were the only sounds. Gabrielle felt a tingle on the back of her neck and looked up to see Xena watching her.

“What?” she asked.

“Why do you write that way?” Xena asked, not unkindly.

Gabrielle snorted. “In what way?”

“All over the place like that.”

Gabrielle’s eyebrows raised. “Excuse me?”

“I mean, multiple at once.” Xena raised her hands innocently. “If I did that, none of them would ever get done. I’d have to do it one at a time. Finish one scroll, then move onto the next. How do you keep track of multiple unfinished stories?”

Gabrielle looked back down at her work. “I don’t know,” she said. “I’ve never thought about it. The stories just flow, and when the flow stops, I move on to the next until the first is ready to be finished.”

“Aren’t you worried the flow won’t come back?”

“No.” Gabrielle chewed the end of her quill for a moment before dipping it and adding another mark to the parchment. “It always does. Sometimes it takes a while, or I have to sleep on it, but the perfect ending always comes around eventually.”

“I like that,” Xena said. She stood and stretched. “Are you going to sleep on that one?” She moved over to the bed and climbed in, laying on her back and interlacing her fingers over her stomach.

“No, I think I’ve got it.” Gabrielle paused and looked up. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you go to bed before me,” she teased. “Do you think you’re getting old?”

“No.” A ghost of a smile danced on Xena’s lips. “I thought for once I’d try to go to sleep without having to hear your snores.”

Gabrielle’s jaw dropped.

115: Warrior…Princess

Gabrielle couldn’t stop smiling. She watched as Diana and Philemon twirled through the crowd, so caught up in their love they might as well have been dancing just the two of them. The flowers, the dresses, even the music seemed to add to the colourful mosaic in front of her.

“Do you want to dance?” she asked Xena, who was standing at her shoulder, holding an entire bowl full of doughy pastries. Xena looked up, cheeks bulging.

“No,” she managed to get out around her mouthful. “I don’t dance.”

“Oh come on, Xena! You danced in the court of King Gregor, I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Tell you what.” Xena gave an enormous swallow. “How about you dance, and I find a table in the back and sit alone?”

“You sure do know how to party,” Gabrielle rolled her eyes and stepped into the whirling mass of bodies, letting herself get swept away by the crowd. It was a lively group dance that required a constant swapping of partners. She did her best to keep up, boots scuffing puffs of sand from the ground beneath her. It wasn’t long before she found herself being twirled under a man’s arm and spun around to be paired with Diana. Diana beamed at her, a smile so unlike Xena’s that it seemed strange seeing it on such a familiar face.

“Gabrielle, you joined us!” she said delightedly. She seized Gabrielle’s hand in her own and her skirts in the other and began to move easily through the crowd, ducking under arms that were raised above them in an arch. Gabrielle laughed as Diana spun her, and then she raised her arm and stood on her tiptoes for Diana to twirl before the partners changed again. Now she found herself on the arm of the king, who seemed to be keeping up with the fast music easily, despite his age. She wished momentarily she was better dressed for the occasion.

“Your Xena’s not dancing?” he asked, nodding to the warrior, who had settled at a table in the shade with her bowl of treats. “Celebration not to her taste?”

“Oh no,” Gabrielle said. “I think she’s exactly where she wants to be.” She stole another glance at Xena, who was closing her eyes as she bit into another pastry at her lonely table. Gabrielle wondered for a moment if she’d ever get to see Xena dancing and laughing in a crowd. The thought tugged at her heart.

Xena accepted the mug of ale from a passing server with a word of thanks. Leave it to the royals to have the best quality stuff, she thought, taking a draught. The good food and drink was making her regret her decision to move on that evening. King Lias had offered them a room for the night but she had turned it down. She’d been starting to feel claustrophobic in the castle, and was looking forward to a night under the open sky with just Gabrielle and Argo.

She peeked at the dance floor over the rim of her mug and saw Gabrielle, face flushed and laughing, arm in arm with Diana. It was strange to see Gabrielle with this woman, this other version of herself. The version of her that radiated joy, that laughed and danced, that was gentle and kind and sweet. The version of her that was happy. She shook her head and downed the rest of her cup. She looked at the bottom of it for a while before shrugging internally and calling for another.

A time later, Gabrielle flounced across the courtyard and threw herself into the seat across from Xena, disheveled and sweaty. She pulled Xena’s mug from her hands and took a drink, wiping her mouth and running a hand through her hair.

“They don’t have many slow dances, do they?” she asked, breathless.

“It seems not.” Xena reached across the table and took her cup back. She studied it for a moment, trying to remember how many she’d had. The sun was setting and the pastries were all gone, so she had certainly been seated here for a while. Sulking, while Gabrielle celebrated. Suddenly she felt overwhelmingly hot and itchy. The crowd and noise felt like too much. She fidgeted with her chakram at her belt. She tried to pinpoint what was making her uneasy, but as she scanned the crowd she couldn’t find any obvious threats. Her heart pounded anyway. Was she too drunk to fight? What if something happened?

“Xena?” Gabrielle reached across the table and put her hand on her arm. Xena jumped. “Are you all right?”

“I…” She couldn’t put it into words. Was she all right? Something was wrong, she just couldn’t tell what. Suddenly she caught sight of Diana and her new husband again, sharing a chaste kiss before Philemon pulled out a chair for her. Xena’s chest felt tight. In another universe, that would be her. She could have been happy, she could have been pleasant, she could have built a life, her and someone else. Her and Marcus, or her and Borias, or her and Lao Ma, or her and - “I have to go.” Xena shoved her chair back immediately and stood up.

She opted to move around the walls of the courtyard rather than work her way through the crowd. She kept her eyes on the gate, which glinted strangely at her in the dying sun. She heard Gabrielle call her name but didn’t look back. The music thrummed through the ground and into her chest. The wall she had one hand on seemed to tilt slightly under her touch. Definitely drunk. She cursed herself.

At last the gates were close enough for her to slip through. The air cooled and quieted almost immediately, and she took a deep breath and directed her steps towards the stables. She’d grab Argo and get the hell out of here. As she came upon the familiar smells and sounds of the stables, she paused, glancing around for a latrine. There wasn’t one here. Whatever. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d squatted behind a stable to relieve herself.

She didn’t remember it being so difficult. The flaps on her skirt had never been so troublesome to hold out of the way. Her thigh muscles had never protested so much. She had to put a hand on the stable wall to brace herself, and even then she still couldn’t really get her eyes to focus on the ground in front of her, which seemed to be slowly tilting this way and that. Silence and darkness pressed around her from all sides, and her senses, dulled by drink, were sending confusing messages to her brain. The images of the gracefully dancing Diana and her, Xena, pissing behind the stables, clashed in her mind. She couldn’t help it, the laughter came. The ridiculousness of the whole thing combined with the ale that had loosened her emotions had her shifting over to a hay bale and sitting down, head in hands, shaking with laughter.

“Xena?” came a soft voice. She looked up. Gabrielle had come around the side of the stables, leading Argo, who was fully tacked up. “What’s going - are you crying?” She sounded shocked. Xena did have tears streaming down her face, but the grin she wore was incongruous with them. She wiped her face with both hands.

“I honestly don’t know, Gabrielle.” She sighed. “What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean? You said we were going.”

“No, I said I was going.”

“That’s the same thing.” There was a small crease of concern between Gabrielle’s brows. “Come here, why don’t you hop up on Argo, and we can head to a nice spot for the night.”

Xena nodded slowly and stood, swaying slightly. Her lips kept twitching with laughter. Gabrielle looked wholly unnerved, but offered Xena the reins. Xena took them and looked up at Argo, who shoved her nose against Xena’s chest. It was a common sign of affection from her, but this time it almost knocked Xena over. She stared at the distance up to Argo’s back, then back down to the stirrup. Her vision doubled, and she lifted a foot experimentally, trying to nudge the stirrup with her toe, and coming up against empty air.

“I think you should maybe do this instead.” She handed the reins back to Gabrielle with a confident smile. Gabrielle winced at the ale on her breath and stifled a giggle.

“Me? I’m not getting on a horse by myself! Here - you’re drunk, Xena. Let’s walk together.” Gabrielle put her free arm around Xena’s waist and started leading her away, Argo trailing docilely behind them.

Xena threw her arm across Gabrielle’s shoulders and leaned on her, resting her cheek against Gabrielle’s head. She closed her eyes and let herself be guided outside the city walls and towards the sweet scent of wildflowers and the friendly sounds of brushing leaves and busy insects.

“Gabrielle?” She mumbled, after a time.

“Mmm?”

“I’m drunk.”

Gabrielle stifled a laugh. “I know, Xena. There’s a clearing through here, just a little further and then you can pass out for the rest of the night.”

Xena could smell Gabrielle’s hair, could feel her fingers tight at her waist, warming her skin even through her leathers. Their hips pressed together as they walked, and Xena’s heart stuttered as she realized how safe she felt. She hadn’t been this drunk, this vulnerable, in ages. If they were attacked right now, she doubted she’d be able to get her sword out of its scabbard. And yet, with Gabrielle’s sturdy arm around her, she couldn’t find it in herself to be worried at all.

When they reached the clearing, Gabrielle deposited Xena on a fallen log and immediately began the tasks of setting up camp. Xena watched, pleased at how much Gabrielle had learned. She didn’t bother with a fire on such a warm summer’s night, but she removed Argo’s tack and began unpacking furs and blankets. She even pressed a waterskin into Xena’s hands and bade her drink. Xena sipped from it absentmindedly, relishing the cold shocks it sent to her fuzzy brain. At last, Gabrielle offered her an arm and Xena heaved herself up on it. She let herself be walked over to her bedroll and collapsed onto it. Gabrielle moved over to her own.

“Gabrielle?”

“Go to sleep, warrior princess.” There was a lilt of laughter in that sweet, teasing voice. As Xena’s heavy eyelids closed, she could picture the smile on Gabrielle’s face.

116: Mortal Beloved

The next morning came sooner than Gabrielle had expected. She screwed up her face against the bright morning sunlight and sat up slowly, combing her fingers through her hair. She expected to see the usual morning sights: Xena stoking the fire, putting a kettle on to boil, perhaps gutting a fish that she’d already arisen to catch. Instead, there was a slight chill in the morning breeze with no fire to chase it away. All their food and cooking supplies were still packed away in the jumble of saddlebags on the ground. Gabrielle frowned at them for a moment before realizing that she was the one who had unburdened Argo last night. No wonder things weren’t in Xena’s normally neat array.

Xena herself was still fast asleep a few feet away. Gabrielle watched her for a moment. She’d known that Xena had the capacity for more emotions than she let on, but she was still surprised to see her drunk and silly. There had been something behind her humour though, something darker and more sinister. It was as if Xena was sad about something but laughing it off. Gabrielle knew better than to ask. Xena was the most private person she had ever met. She was so averse to the curiosity of others that it frustrated Gabrielle at times. She felt like Xena knew her quite well. She, Gabrielle, was an open book, and often offered stories of herself without prompting. Xena was the exact opposite. Any questions would get her to clam up even more. But the small snippets she’d managed to coax out of her fascinated her. Gabrielle wondered if Xena had ever let anyone truly know her, and if she had, what happened to cause such a reluctance to let it happen again. With a sigh, she set herself to getting a fire started.

The flames were just beginning to spit and crackle when Xena stirred. Gabrielle had the kettle full and waiting to be set amongst the coals once they were hot enough. With a groan, Xena sat up. Her bangs were sticking straight up and there were marks on her shoulders and chest from sleeping in her armour.

“Good morning,” Gabrielle said in a sing-song voice.

Xena squinted at her. “Is there tea? My mouth tastes like I’ve been sharing Argo’s feed.”

“Soon,” Gabrielle said, setting the kettle on to boil. “How are you feeling?” Xena grabbed the nearest waterskin and drank deeply, splashing extra onto her hands and running it through her hair. She groaned in response.

“Like I was hit by a chariot, only worse.”

“Don’t tell me you really have been hit by a chariot.”

“Just the once,” Xena shrugged. She unclasped her armour and wriggled out of it. “I can’t believe I slept in this.”

“You almost didn’t make it to camp, I wasn’t going to push it and get you to change,” Gabrielle said. She fished two mugs out of the pack at her side.

“Probably a good idea. It’s been a long time since I’ve had enough ale to lay me out like that.” She accepted the mug of tea from Gabrielle with a word of thanks and sipped tentatively.

After the slow start to the day, it took even longer to get going. By the time Argo was packed and the fire was doused, the sun was high above their heads. Gabrielle knew they were likely not going to make it far today. Probably a scant village on the outskirts of King Lias’ kingdom was the best bet for a resting place tonight.

Days later, Xena dragged herself out of the water, muscles aching. She heard Marcus panting along behind her. The water weighed down her clothes, and her feet slipped around unpleasantly inside her wet boots. She immediately cast her gaze around for Gabrielle on the beach. She was nowhere to be seen. Xena trudged up the sand, eyeing the suspiciously abandoned pile of unused firewood. Her spine tingled. Something was wrong. Before she could draw breath to call for Gabrielle, Marcus shouted out.

“Look!” He pointed up the sand, where Atyminius was crouched, sinister as ever, over a prone form wearing Amazon colours. Xena felt like lightning hit her.

“No!” She shouted. She sprinted towards them, exhaustion shedding from her muscles like the water sluicing off her skin. She drew her sword and swung wildly. She was vaguely aware that her mind wasn’t tuned into the battle like it normally was. Her tactical skills and analysis just weren’t there. Instead, blood roared in her ears and red tinged the edge of her vision. There wasn’t going to be any finesse in this fight, she was simply going to keep chopping at him until he was a wet pile of rags on the beach.

Atyminius blocked her blow with his gauntlet, but fell to the ground from the force. He slipped Hades’ helmet of invisibility on and vanished. Xena began hacking at the sand, spinning in circles. If Gabrielle was dead… no, it couldn’t be… She let out a feral snarl, twirling her sword defensively against the invisible enemy as Marcus caught up. Knowing he was now outnumbered, Atyminius must have fled. Xena saw the sand scattering by his pounding feet.

“Gabrielle.” She fell to her knees, heart pounding. Her hand shook as she reached out to touch Gabrielle’s shoulder. Gabrielle gave a grumble and slowly eased herself up. Xena sighed, relief tumbling through her.

“Xena?” Gabrielle squinted at her. Xena put a hand on her cheek and ran it slowly through Gabrielle’s hair. “Where’s that maniac?”

“We drove him off.”

“Did you see the nosebleed I gave him? There was blood everywhere.” Gabrielle’s voice steadied as she carried on. “Then he kicked me in the head and the next thing I saw was you. It’s a very pleasant sight.”

Xena’s heart jumped in her chest. She smiled proudly at Gabrielle and put her hand on her shoulder. Gabrielle’s toughness pleasantly surprised her with every passing fight. She helped her to her feet carefully. They’d have to get going if they had a chance of finding Atyminius’s trail before camping for the night. She hoped that Gabrielle, sore and exhausted from her tussle, would be all right with the quick pace they would have to set.

Sure enough, Gabrielle passed out the moment her bedroll was on the ground. Xena smiled at her snoring form and tucked the blankets around her shoulders. They had indeed set a punishing pace, but she was satisfied they were on the right track. She stood, dusting off her leathers and turning to see Marcus setting aside his leather vest and gazing at her, eyes gleaming in the firelight.

She approached him, thoughts whirling. These past months had been difficult. Gabrielle’s companionship was sweet, but Xena had put up a wall between them for Gabrielle’s own safety. That meant her side of the wall was awfully lonely at times. She admired the rippling muscles in Marcus’s back as she moved towards him and placed her hands on his shoulders. Her body ached for companionship, and she thought of the love she’d harboured for him, the admiration for who he had become in death, the ticking clock on his time left in this life, and the hollow in her own chest. It wasn’t a difficult decision, even.

She took him slowly, letting the familiarity and proximity of their bodies guide the encounter. With Gabrielle so nearby, Xena knew she needed to be quiet, so she was much more tender and gentle with Marcus this time than the last time they’d been together, all those years ago. She let his hands and mouth rove over her, as pleasure lazily lapped at all her senses. She arched into his hands and panted softly as he touched her, letting the long neglected flame in her core flare, if only for tonight. She let him take his time until she couldn’t stand it any longer, rolling him onto his back and rocking above him until the wave crested upon them both, and the ever-tightening coil inside her broke in a flood of relief.

They lay together for some time after, her head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat and feeling the steady rise and fall of his body beneath hers. She wondered if she would see him again in the afterlife. Surely, after all this, he would be sent to the Elysian Fields, so it was unlikely. She wondered who of her past lovers might be waiting for her in Tartarus, besides the politicians and the soldiers whose names she didn’t remember. Certainly not Lao Ma, nor Borias. She had a knack for falling for people that were much too good for her. Perhaps Alti, if the Fates ever found a way to kill her, would be her sole companion in Hades. The thought chilled her, even against Marcus’s warm body. Businesslike, she pulled herself away from him and began to dress.