queenkatyastar (
queenkatyastar) wrote in
fandomweekly2020-03-30 06:41 pm
Entry tags:
[#046] Journeying On (Xena, Warrior Princess)
Theme Prompt: #046: Horizons
Title: Journeying On
Fandom: Xena, Warrior Princess
Rating/Warnings: PG/Cannon Character Death
Bonus: Yes.
Word Count: 1,000
Summary: Gabrielle has little choice but to continue.
The fire crackled before her as she recalled the words of a traveling bard from so many years before. It felt almost like another lifetime as she looked back on that quaint, quiet village and her childhood there. She had only been a mere slip of a child who'd preferred, back then, to hide behind her mother's skirt, but he had been the bard who had turned her onto her life's passion -- or, at least, one of them anyway. That passion had, of course, led way to another, far more important one, but it had started everything for her.
It had been her desire to write, after all, that had led her to wanting to leave her village. Listening to that old bard's campfire tales had been what had first drawn her from beyond the safety of her mother's skirt. Had it not been for him, she would never have discovered that storytelling could be so grand, and if not for her desire to create, she probably never would have wanted to leave the village. She would have lived the quiet, quaint life everyone there had wanted for her, grown to be nothing more than a housewife, and died after living a calm, if not easy, life.
She never would have lived, not really, Gabrielle realized, blinking back the tears that welled in her green eyes. The horses neighed softly in the grass behind her, and she thought again of how she was going to have to choose one. She didn't want to have to give up either, but she couldn't very well keep traveling with both steeds. It didn't make sense, and she hadn't had the heart to bury Xena's with her. Had her horse still been Argo, Gabrielle knew the decision to not send the steed with his mistress would have been mute. He would have died of a broken heart, as she herself very nearly had.
Sometimes -- actually, quite often, if she was honest with herself, she wished she had died from a broken heart. She fervently wished she had died alongside Xena in battle, but that had not been what the Fates had had aligned for them. She was yet to live. She was still to tell people of the great Warrior Princess and inspire others through Xena's brave tales to change their own lives and the lives of those around them. Everywhere she went, she spoke of Xena. She told the true tales of her courage and love, and she watched as changes happened. There was clearly a reason she was still meant to be here, no matter how much surviving without the woman she loved, without her true soul mate, hurt.
Gabby wanted nothing more for the pain to end. She yearned to be able to just lie down one of these quiet nights, close her eyes, and never have to reopen them again. The peace of death called her, and this time, she actually believed death would be peaceful. After all, her Warrior Princess was waiting for her just beyond the veil. She was waiting to gather her into her arms again, hold her close, kiss her sweetly, and never, ever let her go again. She didn't want to go again. She didn't want to go anywhere other than to spend eternity in Xena's arms and by her soul mate's side. That was where she belonged, not here, lingering in the realm of the living, but here was where she had to be for now.
Gabrielle grew a stick through the dirt. She'd be able to extinguish the fire and get moving soon. She was eager to put as much distance between herself and this place as she could for it, too, held memories, not that she needed anything to encourage the memories that were always there within the confines of her mind. Maybe if she ever finished writing down all of Xena's tales . . . Maybe then she could take her last breath and wake in her lover's arms.
"It's not time."
The words, calmly and softly spoken, came to her on the breeze as the dark of night began to lift. Gabrielle looked up, but she knew she wouldn't see her. She never saw her any longer, no matter how clearly and strongly she felt her. "I know," she answered just as quietly, "but I miss you." She allowed herself the luxury of a few tears as the sun finally began to rise. The night had been another long set of hours spent with no sleep and far too many memories.
The horses snorted and tossed their heads, seemingly just as eager to get moving as Gabrielle herself was. Breakfast could wait, she thought; she had no appetite any way. Food was no longer a passion, no matter how great it was; it was only a necessity. Watching the sun reminded her again of the old bard's words. "Our stories are past the horizon," he'd told his listeners, trying to encourage the villagers to rise up against their enemies and take a stand to protect themselves and their families.
For the most part, his words had appeared to land on mute ears, but Gabrielle had listened. She had listened and remembered, and those sage words of advice had played a part in most of her life. Even now, she understood that was why she must keep going. She must keep writing; she must keep telling the word of her precious, beloved, heroic Xena. If she ever got to tell her last story, perhaps then she could rest. When she did finally reach her horizon, though, she knew Xena would be waiting for her, just as she was now.
"Let's go," she called to the horses, taking both bridles and mounting one. "Let's go get that horizon." She journeyed on for the sooner she reached that horizon, the sooner she could stop, the sooner she could rest, the sooner she could be back where she belonged, with the woman she loved and always would.
The End
Title: Journeying On
Fandom: Xena, Warrior Princess
Rating/Warnings: PG/Cannon Character Death
Bonus: Yes.
Word Count: 1,000
Summary: Gabrielle has little choice but to continue.
The fire crackled before her as she recalled the words of a traveling bard from so many years before. It felt almost like another lifetime as she looked back on that quaint, quiet village and her childhood there. She had only been a mere slip of a child who'd preferred, back then, to hide behind her mother's skirt, but he had been the bard who had turned her onto her life's passion -- or, at least, one of them anyway. That passion had, of course, led way to another, far more important one, but it had started everything for her.
It had been her desire to write, after all, that had led her to wanting to leave her village. Listening to that old bard's campfire tales had been what had first drawn her from beyond the safety of her mother's skirt. Had it not been for him, she would never have discovered that storytelling could be so grand, and if not for her desire to create, she probably never would have wanted to leave the village. She would have lived the quiet, quaint life everyone there had wanted for her, grown to be nothing more than a housewife, and died after living a calm, if not easy, life.
She never would have lived, not really, Gabrielle realized, blinking back the tears that welled in her green eyes. The horses neighed softly in the grass behind her, and she thought again of how she was going to have to choose one. She didn't want to have to give up either, but she couldn't very well keep traveling with both steeds. It didn't make sense, and she hadn't had the heart to bury Xena's with her. Had her horse still been Argo, Gabrielle knew the decision to not send the steed with his mistress would have been mute. He would have died of a broken heart, as she herself very nearly had.
Sometimes -- actually, quite often, if she was honest with herself, she wished she had died from a broken heart. She fervently wished she had died alongside Xena in battle, but that had not been what the Fates had had aligned for them. She was yet to live. She was still to tell people of the great Warrior Princess and inspire others through Xena's brave tales to change their own lives and the lives of those around them. Everywhere she went, she spoke of Xena. She told the true tales of her courage and love, and she watched as changes happened. There was clearly a reason she was still meant to be here, no matter how much surviving without the woman she loved, without her true soul mate, hurt.
Gabby wanted nothing more for the pain to end. She yearned to be able to just lie down one of these quiet nights, close her eyes, and never have to reopen them again. The peace of death called her, and this time, she actually believed death would be peaceful. After all, her Warrior Princess was waiting for her just beyond the veil. She was waiting to gather her into her arms again, hold her close, kiss her sweetly, and never, ever let her go again. She didn't want to go again. She didn't want to go anywhere other than to spend eternity in Xena's arms and by her soul mate's side. That was where she belonged, not here, lingering in the realm of the living, but here was where she had to be for now.
Gabrielle grew a stick through the dirt. She'd be able to extinguish the fire and get moving soon. She was eager to put as much distance between herself and this place as she could for it, too, held memories, not that she needed anything to encourage the memories that were always there within the confines of her mind. Maybe if she ever finished writing down all of Xena's tales . . . Maybe then she could take her last breath and wake in her lover's arms.
"It's not time."
The words, calmly and softly spoken, came to her on the breeze as the dark of night began to lift. Gabrielle looked up, but she knew she wouldn't see her. She never saw her any longer, no matter how clearly and strongly she felt her. "I know," she answered just as quietly, "but I miss you." She allowed herself the luxury of a few tears as the sun finally began to rise. The night had been another long set of hours spent with no sleep and far too many memories.
The horses snorted and tossed their heads, seemingly just as eager to get moving as Gabrielle herself was. Breakfast could wait, she thought; she had no appetite any way. Food was no longer a passion, no matter how great it was; it was only a necessity. Watching the sun reminded her again of the old bard's words. "Our stories are past the horizon," he'd told his listeners, trying to encourage the villagers to rise up against their enemies and take a stand to protect themselves and their families.
For the most part, his words had appeared to land on mute ears, but Gabrielle had listened. She had listened and remembered, and those sage words of advice had played a part in most of her life. Even now, she understood that was why she must keep going. She must keep writing; she must keep telling the word of her precious, beloved, heroic Xena. If she ever got to tell her last story, perhaps then she could rest. When she did finally reach her horizon, though, she knew Xena would be waiting for her, just as she was now.
"Let's go," she called to the horses, taking both bridles and mounting one. "Let's go get that horizon." She journeyed on for the sooner she reached that horizon, the sooner she could stop, the sooner she could rest, the sooner she could be back where she belonged, with the woman she loved and always would.
The End

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