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Disclaimer: Xena Warrior Princess, it’s characters and all related materials are the property of MCA/Universal and Renaissance Pictures.
Those lucky dudes.
Character uses are for entertainment only, not to hurt any rights. As always.
Gabrielle’s POV: During one of the longest nights of her life, Gabrielle can’t help but confront herself with the possible death of her friend.
***
It’s late, and I am beyond tired. I slowly walk back into the storage room where they have put her pallet, pulling the door carefully shut behind me. Only the two men I put up as guards at the towns gate are awake, the rest have finally settled down to sleep.
I bite back a yawn as I circle the small table where I have put the heavy armor of Xena’s getup, reaching for a small wooden cup of water that I filled before going out a couple of minutes earlier.
Argo and I had an honest talk, about how I was glad that she understood how hard it was for me to take Xena’s place. It is. Harder than I ever thought possible. So I am really relieved that that stubborn horse has obviously decided to go along with me for the next days. No telling in how long it’s going to last, but I somehow get the impssion that she knows better than I think what has happened to her friend. She seems kind of withdrawn, if one could say that about a horse, and calmer than she usually is, for I sometimes think Xena’s restless energy urges her on just the same. Those two…they are an unique pair, that’s for sure, and there are times when I find myself actually a little bit jealous of that horse.
It is stupid, I know, but…I see them together, at the end of a day, when Xena takes the time to thoroughly groom and comb Argo, talking to her in a low voice, too low for me to hear what she says. But the way she stands next to her, the way her face is so impassive, so deeply lost in thoughts…I just know that she is telling her horse things she never would tell me.
Like late at night, when she is awakened by one of those nightmares I recently noticed her having. She gets up carefully, surely hoping to not have woken me with her groaning, the tossing and turning, the helpless sobbing…gods, hearing what I do sometimes, I can only imagine the horrible pictures that haunt her at night. I hear her walk away then, and when there is no sound anymore, I get up as well, silently padding after her, stopping far enough away from her, behind a tree, a trunk, and then I watch her sitting on a rock or in the high grass, head in her hands, shoulders slumped and shaking. And then Argo appears, trotting ever so slowly over to her, butting her with her head or something like that. Xena just leans against her, whispering, closing her eyes and allowing the solid psence of her horse what I obviously am not capable of. To give her safety and peace.
I drive my free hand through my open hair, then flex my shoulders a little, glad that I am just wearing the leather right now. That stuff is awfully heavy, and I can’t imagine what it must be like for Xena to wear it all the time. But then again, Xena is so much stronger than I am…
Well…I truly believe that she is stronger than anyone else. I have to believe that, especially right now. Because that strength is what she needs to get well again.
I have reached her pallet and I sit down on a small stool next to it, watching the faint reflections of light the few candles burning inside this room throw over her pale face. Pale, yes…too pale.
I can still feel the shock that drilled through me as I saw her fall when fighting Talmadeus. It was like…seeing the one thing I have believed in for so many months now break apart, fall into a million little pieces. Not her, no. Gods no, never would I stop believing in her. But that she is invincible, that nothing and no one would ever be able to harm her…that was destroyed forever.
I remember her telling me that there might be a day when she wouldn’t be able to get out on top, while we met with Hercules and Iolaus to free Prometheus. I remember me actually short of laughing at her, making fun of what she said. So strong was my belief in her strength, her power, her ability to always, always, win.
‘What if…she wouldn’t this time? What if…’
I shake my head violently, then lean forward a little, closing in on her. My eyes watch the unsteady rise and fall of her chest, and I can feel my throat closing.
“Xena?” I can’t manage more than a croaked whisper, and I swallow a couple of times, then try again.
“Hey…come on, wake up, okay?” My free hand reaches over, stroking softly over her cool cheeks. It is shaking, just like the rest of me.
What if…no, no I have to stop thinking like that. I know the situation is bad, but she has taught me thinking about things like that gives the possibility power, and that’s the last thing I want to do. No, I want to think about a strong, beautiful woman that will surely be well again in a couple of days. After all, it needs more than a little arrow to kill the mighty warrior princess, doesn’t it? Of course it does!
“Xena?” I stroke over her hair, noticing the sweat clinging to it, and I bite my lip in concern.
She hasn’t told me much about what is happening to her. I am still angry about that, because how am I supposed to help her if she won’t tell me what to do? And I am sure there is something I can do. There has to be…
What if she knows it already? The answers to the questions that I asked her, which she refused to answer me?
“You’re gonna pull through, right? I mean…it’s not…”
“It’s gonna get worse before it gets better.”
What in Tartarus did she mean by that? How much worse could it really get, with her not being able to move her legs, her body already half paralyzed?...
“Xena, can you just stop thinking of everybody else for a second? There’s gotta be something I can do for you.”
“Don’t worry about me. What did I tell you? Focus.”
Easier said than done. I mean, I know how serious the situation is. And I know helping these people is important. But what I couldn’t tell her was that for me, it still wasn’t as important as her life.
No…no, I value the Greater Good, I value it above so many things in my life. But not, never, over the life of a woman that once been a stranger has now become my only friend in this world…
“Xena?” I try again, and I can slowly feel my guts starting to clench as I still get no response from her. What if…what if…
It’s amazing. When I think back about how we met, how the first few weeks of our travels together went…one surely must have thought she would drop me off a cliff somewhere. Or I would just throw up my hands and run screaming into the night, never to be seen again.
Gods, that woman is so…stubborn!
I believe not even the great Zeus himself would be able to break through that thick skull with one of his bolts of lightning.
I swear, the first weeks I asked myself every night, huddled together in my bedroll, what on earth I was thinking insisting to travel with her? She was mean, and grumpy, challenging me every step of the way, showing me with looks better than words ever could that I surely wasn’t made for the life she lived. And nothing would have changed my mind from thinking that she was doing all of this on purpose, just to get me to leave her alone again and run back home.
And then…somewhere along the way, that changed. She started to at least answer me, even though a little gruff, when I asked her about things. Started to explain to me every now and then how for example the camp should be made, and why, and by that started to make it easier for me to keep up with the way her brain works. And by that…keep up with her.
And then, suddenly, it worked. Not perfectly, no, but it was like we had called it a truce, had both decided for ourselves that having someone to talk to during those long, cold nights, wasn’t that bad…
I remember one night when she finally told me that she was so used to being alone, even surrounded by warriors, that it was really kind of hard for her to adjust to my psence. And that she wasn’t used to having someone in her life that was actually worth caring for…
“Don’t worry about me.”
But I do…it’s the only thing I can think about.
Because for me, it’s all about the fact that I could lose my friend. The person that I, too, have learned to be worth caring for. I don’t know how much of that she truly meant, or how much of that was part of her actually being sorry for having threatened me the way she did. But something was in those stunning blue eyes of hers that called out to me, that whispered to me that in them…lay way more than one could see from just the first gaze. And that whatever it was, was worth searching for.
“Xena?”
My voice is stronger now, louder, and I lean forward even more, careful as not to spill the water I still hold, my other hand now reaching for her shoulder, shaking it gently.
“Xena?”
My eyes rush to her neck, and I feel panic starting to take over as I am not able to make out a beating pulse against the satin skin there.
‘No…no…’
“You’re gonna pull through, right? I mean…it’s not…”
“It’s gonna get worse before it gets better.”
“Xena?!”
I am yelling now, and I shake her hard, and without wanting to my hand reaches up, slapping her cheek. What if…what if…
‘Gods no…please no…don’t take her from me…please please please…’
My eyes are already burning as I look up into her face again, and the relief makes me almost pass out as I see her eyelids flicker, and I can hear a faint moan, and then, finally, she slowly opens her eyes. My hand is still on her cheek, and I use it to carefully turn her face towards me. The blue orbs are clouded, glazed really, and still unfocussed, and I actually start to fear she might be starting to lose her sight as well.
“Xena? It’s me, Gabrielle.” She groans again, blinking slowly, probably acknowledging my psence now.
“I am sorry I woke you, but you need to drink some more water.”
Her eyes close again, and it looks like she wants to drop back into the deep sleep I have called her out off. But I won’t let her. I need to look into her eyes for a few moments longer. To reassure myself that…it is not too late…that she is still with me.
“Come on…just a little water…please.” Another moan as she reopens her eyes, and now she lifts them to my face, as clear as they always were, recognizing me instantly.
“Gabrielle…what…are you doing up?” ‘Always concerned about me, aren’t you?’
“I just took care of Argo for a few minutes. Water?” and I hold out the cup to her.
“Is she all right?” she asks and nods, and I help her rising a little to sip from the cup several times before she turns her head away, sinking back down on the pallet.
“She is just fine. She misses you…she misses her friend.”
My voice sounds sad, and hoarse, and I hurry to avert Xena’s gaze as she turns her head towards me again. A tear falls, landing on the back of my hand, and I rub my face, then put the cup down next to the pallet, trying to busy myself for not wanting to meet that questioning gaze of hers.
“You…should sleep…a little. You’ll need… your strength.” I find a smile somewhere for her.
“Don’t worry about me…”
I stop myself as her words come back to haunt my mind, and swallow down the lump in my throat. She looks so pale…so weak…what if…what if…
A hand suddenly grabs my arm, not hard, but gentle and caring, and I look into her eyes one more time, finding in them something soft, and vulnerable, that I have never seen before. She allows a tired smile onto her face, then blinks, and whatever it was I just saw is gone again, leaving just the serious stare of the warrior I’ve come to value after all.
“Sleep.” I smile, then nod, sighing a little in relief.
As long as she still is that stubborn, everything will be fine.
Right?