THE BETWEEN THE LINES SERIES
(or what happened between the episodes)
by Texbard
For Disclaimers, see "Looking for Trouble"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
3.1 Who's Your Daddy?
(post "The Furies")
X: "I'm in trouble, aren't I, Gabrielle?"
G: "No -- we'll get through this."
A: [Claps] "That -- was brilliant. If I was your father, I'd be very -- very proud of you. I still don't get what you see in her."
-- The Furies
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I can see it in her walk. There's no pride there. No strutting. None of the usual confidence I'm so used to seeing there. She looks deflated, as if every last bit of wind has been blown from her sails. She's put up that wall again -- the one I thought I'd chiseled away for good. I can see it so clearly in her eyes, in those brief moments she makes contact. She's completely ashamed of her behavior during her episode with the Furies, and on top of everything else, that thin hope she held onto for so long, that one day she might see her father again, was dashed to pieces.
I don't know what to say, other than 'I'm sorry,' and that seems so inadequate for someone who has lost a parent. That's assuming her game with Ares isn't based in truth. I don't know if I dare broach that subject. It was brilliant, the way she came up with it, but the more I think about it, the more I can see how it would make sense. The things she can do. The bond she shares with him. Being half god would explain all of that. But knowing Xena, she loathes him so much, if she thought his blood flowed in her veins, she'd be likely to slit her wrists and drain every last drop.
We've left Amphipolis after seeing Cyrene safely back to her tavern. I asked Xena if she wanted to stay on a few days. They've both had a rough go of it, but she said no, that it was time to get out of 'this godsforsaken town,' as she called it. Things are awkward between her and her mother again, though not nearly as awkward as the last time I was there. But now this truth lies between them. Xena loved her father and thought he left. Cyrene had to kill him because he was going to kill Xena. I don't know that anyone ever really gets over something like that. All you can do is put it in its place and try to move on.
I'm leading Argo, walking several paces behind Xena, giving her the space she seems to need to sort things out. Not that Xena ever really allows herself to find closure for many things. No, that isn't her style. She's very good at wearing her guilt like a mantle for a while, and then shoving it down deep inside, rather than dealing with it. I know this about her and I also know there's nothing I can do about it, but love her and let her be who she is. I just hope she doesn't somehow find a way to blame herself for her father's death. She's got enough on her head without adding something that wasn't her fault at all.
Without a word she turns off the path and I follow her through the trees to a small clearing. She sits down on a log next to a fire ring that is already there, and I take the cue to remove our things from Argo's back. It doesn't take long. We don't carry much. Just our bedroll and a couple of bags with our supplies in them. I also carefully remove her saddle and bridle and look over at Xena. "You want to brush her before she takes off?"
She looks up, considering my question much longer than necessary. She looks very lost and I want to go over and give her a hug. I'm just not certain it's welcome right now. Finally, she answers, "Nah. We only traveled a few hours this time. Let 'er go."
I shrug and give Argo a pat on the rump. "Go on." She snorts once and takes off, trotting back down the path we took. A part of me wants to follow her. It would be nice to run through the fields kicking up my heels and be carefree, and judging from Miss Prickly across the fire ring, it's going to be a long night. I watch until Argo's out of sight, then turn back around and suddenly I realize where we are.
"This is where it all started." I turn in a circle. It's the campsite I followed her to, after she fought Draco and saved her village. The place where she finally decided to let me travel with her.
"Yeah." She looks up again, her voice wistful. "Seems like a lifetime ago, huh?"
"You're tired." I make my way to her side and begin the familiar ritual of helping her remove her armor, and thankfully she doesn't resist. This is so routine now that I don't think it occurs to her to put up a fight. This makes me smile, if only a tiny one. In this, she no longer sees me as solicitous, even if I am. "I'm tired, too," I admit. "But to answer your question, yes, it does seem like a lifetime ago. We've both changed so much."
She stretches out a leg as I kneel to unclasp her leg armor, and I pause, feeling a touch to my face. I look up and see such sorrow in her eyes. It breaks my heart. "You were so innocent then." She strokes my cheek with her thumb. "Had you even seen anyone killed, before you met me?"
"No." I hate the answer, knowing it will heap more guilt upon her head, but it's the truth. Much as it might hurt, it's better than a lie, and if I said 'yes' then I'd have to make up a story about who I saw killed.
"I took so much from you," she murmurs.
I finish removing her armor, even her boots. Sometimes after a long day, it just feels good to be able to wiggle your toes. I take a chance and use some water from our water skin to wash her feet. I don't do this very often, but I want to care for her and this is one way I can when she gets like this. I feel her leg muscles stiffen for a moment and I hold my breath, not looking up, waiting to see if she protests. I feel those muscles twitching, as if she's warring with herself, but then she relaxes and I breathe, and finish my task, placing a kiss to her calf as I lay the water skin aside. Finally, I look up again. "You gave me so much more," I whisper fiercely. I wriggle my way between her legs, still kneeling on my knees, and take her face in both hands. "No regrets, Xena. Not one. I only wish I'd met you sooner."
"If you had --" She stops and looks down, but I don't let go of her. "Maybe I wouldn't have become -- maybe I'd never have met Ares."
She's opened that door, and I carefully step through, hoping she won't toss me back out and lock it. "Ares is the reason your mother -- did what she had to do. I hate him for hurting you, but I think you would have met him, Xena, one way or the other. It seems like he had his mark on you from an early age."
"He's not my father!" She angrily gets up and moves to the other side of the fire ring, where she paces in an agitated fashion, even going so far as to kick a rock, before she sits down on another log.
I sigh. Okay, so this was a delicate topic. "Xena, I didn't say he was. I only meant that considering what your father tried to do, Ares has had it in for you for a very long time. It's like he's obsessed or something." I get up and join her, relieved when she doesn't move away.
"I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that." She buries her face in her hands, raking her fingers back through her hair. "My head isn't right, yet. I can remember everything, but it's all fuzzy, like I'm seeing it through a haze."
"Maybe that's for the best." I tuck my hand into the crook of her elbow. "Besides, that wasn't you, it was the Furies. They made you do and say those things."
"Did they?" She looks over at me, her face anguished. "All they did was make me crazy. They didn't give me a set of instructions on how to manifest that craziness. Terrorizing a bunch of innocent women and children. Tying you up. Holding a sword at your throat. Threatening to kill my own mother. No one made me do those things. All of that came from somewhere inside me."
"Maybe it did." I turn my body toward her and lean in, making eye contact. "And yes, you were one crazed warrior, but at the core of your actions, you were still the Xena I know and love. You tied me up because you were afraid I'd follow you and get hurt, not because you wanted to hurt me. And somehow, even in your confusion, you managed to find a way to keep from killing your mother. Xena, in all your craziness, I don't think you physically harmed anyone, other than beating up on bad guys who attacked us and beating the stuffing out of Ares."
"What about the women and children?" She hangs her head in sorrow. "They were terrified."
"Maybe, but they weren't running away. I think it was more like watching a chariot wreck than true fear - they couldn't tear themselves away from the spectacle of a crazed woman." I pause, thinking carefully about my words. "I think that came from a part of you that is very sorry for your past, but I don't think you ever intended to hurt those people."
"How can you know that?" Her tone is beyond frustrated. "Gabrielle, I went to them in the dead of night and accused them of being murderers."
"You went to them buck naked. Xena, if you intended to harm them, why did you leave your armor and weapons behind?" Her eyes grow wide as she considers this. "You made yourself vulnerable before them. I don't think you were yelling at them, I think subconsciously, you were yelling at yourself for things long past."
"Maybe I was." She sighs, her shoulder slumping in weariness. "I can't believe mother killed my father and I'm just now finding out about it."
"She was protecting you." I stroke her head, pushing her hair back out of her face. "She loves you, Xena. Enough that she didn't tell you your own father tried to kill you. She allowed you to keep your good memories of him. Think of all those years she carried that around alone."
"Even after Lyceus," Xena's voice rises in wonder. "Even when she was her most angry with me, she never --" She turns to me, her face hopeful again, at last. "She could have used that to get back at me, way back then, but she didn't."
"She didn't tell you until she had to, because she never stopped loving you." I lean over and kiss her cheek. "And neither will I."
I see the first tear trickle down her cheek, and I capture it. She sniffles and turns her head away from me, swiping the back of her hand across her eyes. "Don't know why I'm crying." She sniffles again. "I barely remember him anymore. He's this stranger that lived with us for a short while. Even before -- he was gone -- he wasn't there half the time. Always running off to fight some battle."
"He was your father." I wrap my arm around her. "You loved him."
"Apparently he didn't love me in return." Her voice is hard and angry. "I wasted so much time wishing he would come home."
"Love is never a waste." I shake her a little and squeeze her.
"All of it was a waste," she answers me bitterly. "Until I met you."
"Xena. It --" Before I can say another word, she turns and hugs me, and I feel her shaking. "Shhhhhh." I rub her back and let her cry. She needs to mourn him and here in this place with me, she needs to know it's safe to do that. I hurt for the little girl she was -- losing her father so young and being raised by a mother who was always busy. Losing her brother and having her mother blame her for it. It occurs to me that Xena must have been a very lonely girl at times, and that for the most part, she raised herself. No wonder she won't let anyone get close to her.
"I love you, Xena," I whisper softly into her ear. "I'll always love you."
"Even if Ares turns out to be my father?" I grow still for a moment, but don't let go of her. I know she's been thinking about it. I'm just glad she's willing to acknowledge the possibility. It will make it easier if --
"Even if," I answer carefully, still holding her close. "I think that's something we may never know. Can you live with that?"
"I'd rather not know." She laughs lightly, her voice still rough from crying. "I'm not sure which is worse -- to have a mortal father who planned to kill me, or to have the god of war as my father."
"It doesn't matter to me who your father is. What matters to me is who you are, now." I lean against her and rest my head on her shoulder, and I feel her arm around me as she presses her cheek against the top of my head. We sit there in comfortable silence, allowing the quietness of our little glade to begin to make things right once more.
After a while, I get up and lay out our bedroll, and make us some dinner, and fetch some water from a nearby stream. And as the sun sets and the stars come out overhead, the world slowly begins to seem just a little friendlier than it did in the harsh light of day. She holds me close and we kiss for a while, slowly and tenderly, an affirmation of how far we've come and of what we mean to each other. I think about the first time I slept in this glade, across the fire from her. I was terrified and excited and so full of wonder and hope. Sometimes I still feel that way, but now I know where I belong. She has become my world, and I realize I've become hers as well. I can't give her back the childhood she lost, or the love her parents withheld. All I can do is love her here and now, and make her understand, every day, that her love is safe with me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Next in the BTL series - Carpe Xanthos (post "Been There, Done That")
(or what happened between the episodes)
by Texbard
For Disclaimers, see "Looking for Trouble"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
3.1 Who's Your Daddy?
(post "The Furies")
X: "I'm in trouble, aren't I, Gabrielle?"
G: "No -- we'll get through this."
A: [Claps] "That -- was brilliant. If I was your father, I'd be very -- very proud of you. I still don't get what you see in her."
-- The Furies
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I can see it in her walk. There's no pride there. No strutting. None of the usual confidence I'm so used to seeing there. She looks deflated, as if every last bit of wind has been blown from her sails. She's put up that wall again -- the one I thought I'd chiseled away for good. I can see it so clearly in her eyes, in those brief moments she makes contact. She's completely ashamed of her behavior during her episode with the Furies, and on top of everything else, that thin hope she held onto for so long, that one day she might see her father again, was dashed to pieces.
I don't know what to say, other than 'I'm sorry,' and that seems so inadequate for someone who has lost a parent. That's assuming her game with Ares isn't based in truth. I don't know if I dare broach that subject. It was brilliant, the way she came up with it, but the more I think about it, the more I can see how it would make sense. The things she can do. The bond she shares with him. Being half god would explain all of that. But knowing Xena, she loathes him so much, if she thought his blood flowed in her veins, she'd be likely to slit her wrists and drain every last drop.
We've left Amphipolis after seeing Cyrene safely back to her tavern. I asked Xena if she wanted to stay on a few days. They've both had a rough go of it, but she said no, that it was time to get out of 'this godsforsaken town,' as she called it. Things are awkward between her and her mother again, though not nearly as awkward as the last time I was there. But now this truth lies between them. Xena loved her father and thought he left. Cyrene had to kill him because he was going to kill Xena. I don't know that anyone ever really gets over something like that. All you can do is put it in its place and try to move on.
I'm leading Argo, walking several paces behind Xena, giving her the space she seems to need to sort things out. Not that Xena ever really allows herself to find closure for many things. No, that isn't her style. She's very good at wearing her guilt like a mantle for a while, and then shoving it down deep inside, rather than dealing with it. I know this about her and I also know there's nothing I can do about it, but love her and let her be who she is. I just hope she doesn't somehow find a way to blame herself for her father's death. She's got enough on her head without adding something that wasn't her fault at all.
Without a word she turns off the path and I follow her through the trees to a small clearing. She sits down on a log next to a fire ring that is already there, and I take the cue to remove our things from Argo's back. It doesn't take long. We don't carry much. Just our bedroll and a couple of bags with our supplies in them. I also carefully remove her saddle and bridle and look over at Xena. "You want to brush her before she takes off?"
She looks up, considering my question much longer than necessary. She looks very lost and I want to go over and give her a hug. I'm just not certain it's welcome right now. Finally, she answers, "Nah. We only traveled a few hours this time. Let 'er go."
I shrug and give Argo a pat on the rump. "Go on." She snorts once and takes off, trotting back down the path we took. A part of me wants to follow her. It would be nice to run through the fields kicking up my heels and be carefree, and judging from Miss Prickly across the fire ring, it's going to be a long night. I watch until Argo's out of sight, then turn back around and suddenly I realize where we are.
"This is where it all started." I turn in a circle. It's the campsite I followed her to, after she fought Draco and saved her village. The place where she finally decided to let me travel with her.
"Yeah." She looks up again, her voice wistful. "Seems like a lifetime ago, huh?"
"You're tired." I make my way to her side and begin the familiar ritual of helping her remove her armor, and thankfully she doesn't resist. This is so routine now that I don't think it occurs to her to put up a fight. This makes me smile, if only a tiny one. In this, she no longer sees me as solicitous, even if I am. "I'm tired, too," I admit. "But to answer your question, yes, it does seem like a lifetime ago. We've both changed so much."
She stretches out a leg as I kneel to unclasp her leg armor, and I pause, feeling a touch to my face. I look up and see such sorrow in her eyes. It breaks my heart. "You were so innocent then." She strokes my cheek with her thumb. "Had you even seen anyone killed, before you met me?"
"No." I hate the answer, knowing it will heap more guilt upon her head, but it's the truth. Much as it might hurt, it's better than a lie, and if I said 'yes' then I'd have to make up a story about who I saw killed.
"I took so much from you," she murmurs.
I finish removing her armor, even her boots. Sometimes after a long day, it just feels good to be able to wiggle your toes. I take a chance and use some water from our water skin to wash her feet. I don't do this very often, but I want to care for her and this is one way I can when she gets like this. I feel her leg muscles stiffen for a moment and I hold my breath, not looking up, waiting to see if she protests. I feel those muscles twitching, as if she's warring with herself, but then she relaxes and I breathe, and finish my task, placing a kiss to her calf as I lay the water skin aside. Finally, I look up again. "You gave me so much more," I whisper fiercely. I wriggle my way between her legs, still kneeling on my knees, and take her face in both hands. "No regrets, Xena. Not one. I only wish I'd met you sooner."
"If you had --" She stops and looks down, but I don't let go of her. "Maybe I wouldn't have become -- maybe I'd never have met Ares."
She's opened that door, and I carefully step through, hoping she won't toss me back out and lock it. "Ares is the reason your mother -- did what she had to do. I hate him for hurting you, but I think you would have met him, Xena, one way or the other. It seems like he had his mark on you from an early age."
"He's not my father!" She angrily gets up and moves to the other side of the fire ring, where she paces in an agitated fashion, even going so far as to kick a rock, before she sits down on another log.
I sigh. Okay, so this was a delicate topic. "Xena, I didn't say he was. I only meant that considering what your father tried to do, Ares has had it in for you for a very long time. It's like he's obsessed or something." I get up and join her, relieved when she doesn't move away.
"I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that." She buries her face in her hands, raking her fingers back through her hair. "My head isn't right, yet. I can remember everything, but it's all fuzzy, like I'm seeing it through a haze."
"Maybe that's for the best." I tuck my hand into the crook of her elbow. "Besides, that wasn't you, it was the Furies. They made you do and say those things."
"Did they?" She looks over at me, her face anguished. "All they did was make me crazy. They didn't give me a set of instructions on how to manifest that craziness. Terrorizing a bunch of innocent women and children. Tying you up. Holding a sword at your throat. Threatening to kill my own mother. No one made me do those things. All of that came from somewhere inside me."
"Maybe it did." I turn my body toward her and lean in, making eye contact. "And yes, you were one crazed warrior, but at the core of your actions, you were still the Xena I know and love. You tied me up because you were afraid I'd follow you and get hurt, not because you wanted to hurt me. And somehow, even in your confusion, you managed to find a way to keep from killing your mother. Xena, in all your craziness, I don't think you physically harmed anyone, other than beating up on bad guys who attacked us and beating the stuffing out of Ares."
"What about the women and children?" She hangs her head in sorrow. "They were terrified."
"Maybe, but they weren't running away. I think it was more like watching a chariot wreck than true fear - they couldn't tear themselves away from the spectacle of a crazed woman." I pause, thinking carefully about my words. "I think that came from a part of you that is very sorry for your past, but I don't think you ever intended to hurt those people."
"How can you know that?" Her tone is beyond frustrated. "Gabrielle, I went to them in the dead of night and accused them of being murderers."
"You went to them buck naked. Xena, if you intended to harm them, why did you leave your armor and weapons behind?" Her eyes grow wide as she considers this. "You made yourself vulnerable before them. I don't think you were yelling at them, I think subconsciously, you were yelling at yourself for things long past."
"Maybe I was." She sighs, her shoulder slumping in weariness. "I can't believe mother killed my father and I'm just now finding out about it."
"She was protecting you." I stroke her head, pushing her hair back out of her face. "She loves you, Xena. Enough that she didn't tell you your own father tried to kill you. She allowed you to keep your good memories of him. Think of all those years she carried that around alone."
"Even after Lyceus," Xena's voice rises in wonder. "Even when she was her most angry with me, she never --" She turns to me, her face hopeful again, at last. "She could have used that to get back at me, way back then, but she didn't."
"She didn't tell you until she had to, because she never stopped loving you." I lean over and kiss her cheek. "And neither will I."
I see the first tear trickle down her cheek, and I capture it. She sniffles and turns her head away from me, swiping the back of her hand across her eyes. "Don't know why I'm crying." She sniffles again. "I barely remember him anymore. He's this stranger that lived with us for a short while. Even before -- he was gone -- he wasn't there half the time. Always running off to fight some battle."
"He was your father." I wrap my arm around her. "You loved him."
"Apparently he didn't love me in return." Her voice is hard and angry. "I wasted so much time wishing he would come home."
"Love is never a waste." I shake her a little and squeeze her.
"All of it was a waste," she answers me bitterly. "Until I met you."
"Xena. It --" Before I can say another word, she turns and hugs me, and I feel her shaking. "Shhhhhh." I rub her back and let her cry. She needs to mourn him and here in this place with me, she needs to know it's safe to do that. I hurt for the little girl she was -- losing her father so young and being raised by a mother who was always busy. Losing her brother and having her mother blame her for it. It occurs to me that Xena must have been a very lonely girl at times, and that for the most part, she raised herself. No wonder she won't let anyone get close to her.
"I love you, Xena," I whisper softly into her ear. "I'll always love you."
"Even if Ares turns out to be my father?" I grow still for a moment, but don't let go of her. I know she's been thinking about it. I'm just glad she's willing to acknowledge the possibility. It will make it easier if --
"Even if," I answer carefully, still holding her close. "I think that's something we may never know. Can you live with that?"
"I'd rather not know." She laughs lightly, her voice still rough from crying. "I'm not sure which is worse -- to have a mortal father who planned to kill me, or to have the god of war as my father."
"It doesn't matter to me who your father is. What matters to me is who you are, now." I lean against her and rest my head on her shoulder, and I feel her arm around me as she presses her cheek against the top of my head. We sit there in comfortable silence, allowing the quietness of our little glade to begin to make things right once more.
After a while, I get up and lay out our bedroll, and make us some dinner, and fetch some water from a nearby stream. And as the sun sets and the stars come out overhead, the world slowly begins to seem just a little friendlier than it did in the harsh light of day. She holds me close and we kiss for a while, slowly and tenderly, an affirmation of how far we've come and of what we mean to each other. I think about the first time I slept in this glade, across the fire from her. I was terrified and excited and so full of wonder and hope. Sometimes I still feel that way, but now I know where I belong. She has become my world, and I realize I've become hers as well. I can't give her back the childhood she lost, or the love her parents withheld. All I can do is love her here and now, and make her understand, every day, that her love is safe with me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Next in the BTL series - Carpe Xanthos (post "Been There, Done That")
