A Little Fear

We own nothing / nothing is ours

Not even love so fierce it burns like baby stars

But this poverty is our greatest gift

The weightlessness of us as things around begin to shift…

When they found the dead body on the road, it might have been Xena who noticed it first, but it was Gabrielle who made her slow, heavy way to the corpse to find out the reason it had become one.

Xena fleetingly debated a protest. Then, as she eyed the scowl on Gabrielle's face, she settled for watching. Uneasily watching, as the newly-made warrior, who had such a short time ago been an innocent, found yet another reason to test her faith in the goodness of people.

Gabrielle crouched down beside the ragged roadblock that was once a living being. She turned the body over, trying not to gag. Tangled, honey-brown tresses spilled across the dirt of the track. Smooth white skin, smudged with mud, darkened by bruises. A torn woolen gown prickled with grass seeds, wisps of leaf litter. Young hands; she had been no older than they were, perhaps younger. Gabrielle reached out and gently shifted aside the curtain of locks, swallowing as she did so.

Suddenly, Gabrielle's eyes closed. Xena watched as her head bowed forward and her right hand went to the back of her neck, massaging the tight muscles in a familiar gesture of disquiet.

Gabrielle let out a long breath. "Xena."

"What?"

"Can you come over here?"

Xena complied unwillingly, looking at the treetops as she did so. "What is it?"

Gabrielle's voice was steady. "Her eyes are gone."

Xena finally glanced down and Gabrielle saw the set of her jaw change, tighten.

"It looks," said Xena quietly, before clearing her throat, "looks like they've been scratched out."

"Not an animal, maybe? A crow?"

"I don't think so." Xena pointed without pointing, a vague movement of her hand. "See the, uh, abscessing below her cheekbone?"

Gabrielle nodded briefly.

"That's a pretty deep cut." Xena paused. "My guess is some kind of wire, or maybe…"

"What?"

"A fork," Xena finished quietly, and Gabrielle wished she hadn't asked. She leaned down and took the woman's hands. Tarnished gold circled the fourth finger on the left.

"She was married, Xena, look. Who could-" Gabrielle couldn't help the tears that unexpectedly burned her eyelids any more than she could help the gorge rising in her throat.

Not just a warrior after all.

Nobody who was just a warrior would hurry into the bushes the way Gabrielle then did, retching and sobbing together, until there was nothing left but emptiness.


Xena cleared her throat. "We assumed … it's just, this is the closest village."

"Assumed wrong."

Gabrielle leaned into the bar, the scarred wood heavy against her light skin. "Is that all you can tell us?"

"Dunno what else you want."

Xena eyed the ancient bartender. "Or is that all you're willing to tell us?"

"She ain't from here." The man turned his back, as good as dismissal as any, and a rather daring one considering to whom he was speaking.

"How do you know?" Gabrielle's frustration was evident in her voice. "You haven't seen her, we don't know her name. How can you be so sure, without checking first?"

The old man did not turn. "Girl, did you see where my tavern is?"

Gabrielle, biting back the sharp retort the label brought to her lips, shrugged. "In the middle of town."

"Thass right." The barkeep finally graced her with a dirty look, not bothering to be careful to direct it away from the silent, dark presence at her side. "Think anyone'd go missing from this shit pile and me not hear about it?"

It made sense. Xena placed a hand on her partner's shoulder. "Let's go, Gabrielle."

"Wasting your time," could be heard as the barkeeper turned away again, "…bloody crusaders … who're you helping, that's what I want to know."

Gabrielle shook off Xena's hand and slammed her own to the counter-top. "We don't know yet! Her family, her, her friends maybe. We didn't ask the world of you. Gods forbid, a little courtesy wouldn't hurt."

"Gabrielle-"

"Girl," replied the old man brusquely, "I own a tavern, not a bloody Athenian palace. Courtesy's an expense I can do without. Not even saving the presence of your big friend, there." He picked up a cloth and began to polish a dry urn.

Gabrielle drew in a sharp breath. "She comes from somewhere. Somebody loved her. Somebody's missing her, right now. The least you can do is be human about it."

The bartender eyed her sullenly. "Unless you're about to become customers, you can quit your preaching and get out of here. I've got work as needs doing. Courteously," he added snidely, as Gabrielle huffed and turned away.

She swung around at that last, cheeks darkening, until Xena stepped in front of her. "I know you're mad," she said in a low voice, "but save it for someone bright enough to understand you, okay?"

Gabrielle acquiesced grudgingly, and they left together.


They had been on a journey to nowhere, as they so often were these days. With mostly everybody they loved dead and buried, there were precious few places left to make a destination. Several months now, without a direction, without a cause, without anybody but each other. It made sense then, that they had become more insular than ever.

Gabrielle's horse shifted uneasily beneath his burden, and missed a step as he pranced forward. Gabrielle gripped the reins and picked up her walking pace. Xena had tied the woman firmly, face-down across the saddle. Her white and scratched arms hung limply out from beneath the sacking that Gabrielle had hurriedly spread over her. It galled her that they had no other means of transporting the woman's body, but one made do with what one had.

Xena raised the subject that had been on her mind since they left the small village. "Under the circumstances, I think we should bury her out in the woods. Give her peace."

"Under these circumstances?" returned her partner testily. "Unidentified, unclaimed, dumped by the road like somebody's winter garbage?"

"No." Xena absently scratched Argo behind the ear. "I know you don't like the practicalities of it, but by tomorrow she's going to start decomposing."

Gabrielle swallowed. "Thank you. For your sensitive viewpoint." She stumbled a little as her foot turned on a rock.

Xena gazed down at her partner's back, eyeing the tautness of her shoulders, the downward slope of her neck; even whilst walking, Gabrielle was outpacing her by ten strides. "It's not a viewpoint. It's simple fact. Sometimes there just isn't any room for sentiment."

Gabrielle tossed her hair from her eyes and fixed them down the road. "Not for you, maybe. But there are some things I'm not going to give up."

"I didn't-" Xena began tersely, and then stopped. What was she arguing about, exactly? They had the rest of the day. If they hadn't found the stranger's family by nightfall, spending an evening with a decomposing corpse would probably change Gabrielle's mind quickly enough.

Gabrielle quickened her pace as they topped a rise in the road. Beneath, them, spread haphazardly across the lower slopes of the valley, another small village drifted into view.

Xena slid from Argo's broad back and dropped lightly to the ground. "You wait here."

"Why?"

"There are children in the square. If she does come from here, they probably all know her. I think-"

"Don't have to paint me a picture, Xena." Gabrielle pulled her cloak tightly around herself with a defiant yank. "I get it."

Xena stiffened under the rebuke. Without speaking again, she strode away. Gabrielle was left with the stranger. Alone with the slender white hands that drooped from beneath the canvas like dying flowers on a vine.

"What should I call you?" she asked softly, not heeding the wary glance of a curious farm boy who had passed close enough to hear the words. "I need something … to set you aside in my head, you understand. Do you? From the others."

When Gabrielle realised she had unwittingly paused to wait for a response, she leant her forehead against her horse's neck. "I'm going crazy," she muttered into the warm, smooth hide.


In the square, Xena paused. There were a few overturned wagons blocking the door to the town hall. On one of them hung a sign: No Public Gatherings Without Approval. The tavern was shut, windows boarded up with sagging ash, cobwebs festooning the doorway. Must be a temperance sort of town, thought Xena, turning abruptly and almost bowling over a young boy as she did so. He blinked up at her and Xena felt what she always did when regarded with a child's innocent scrutiny - relief. Children didn't see the Warrior Princess; all she was to them was another tall lady.

"You got a sword," the youngster observed loudly.

Xena took that in with a slight grin. A tall lady with a sword. Yes. She knelt and looked at the boy with the expression that all children loved and instantly responded to, i.e., her expression did not change.

"That I do," she agreed. "'S'pose you wish you had one too, right?"

"Sometimes," said the boy a little wistfully, sneaking another glance at the handle looming up over the warrior's shoulder. "But Pa says no."

"Know why? Your Pa's just trying to keep you safe. Parents need to do that when you're young."

"Why?"

"So when they get old, you're still around to keep them safe," said Xena, and the boy grinned. "What's your name?" she asked him.

"Oravius."

The warrior extended her arm. "Nice to meet you, Oravius. I'm Xena."

Oravius, who looked about six, nodded solemnly as he clasped her forearm and received this precious gift - attention from an adult who treated him as an equal.

"You live here?" asked Xena, waving a hand at the village.

The boy nodded. "In the temple."

Casting an eye back toward where Gabrielle was waiting, Xena held her hand out to the boy, who took it - all of his mother's warnings about strangers fleeing in the face of the most interesting woman that the youngster had ever seen. She smiled at him.

"Will you take me to your parents, Oravius? I've got some important questions I need to ask them."

"Sure!" The boy set off at an excited trot, forcing Xena to quite a pace as she trudged after him, ignoring the suspicious stares of the townsfolk in the square.


Waiting, waiting. Gabrielle scrubbed both hands over her face. Whatever she was doing, whatever she was feeling … it wasn't helping. The knot in her stomach tightened, and for just a fraction of a second, Gabrielle felt like shouting at the sky. Not that it would change anything.

Why, why, why is this getting to me so much? It isn't anything I haven't seen a thousand times before.

Aloud, she said, "I'm Gabrielle. That's my name. My partner, her name's Xena. Perhaps you've heard of her…"

Shut up! Shut up! Who are you talking to, anyway?

Gabrielle closed her eyes again.


Xena swung the oak door shut, its sepulchral thud emphasised by the thunderclouds on her face. She stood upon the threshold of the temple, blinking, waiting the few seconds it took for her eyes to adjust to the brightness outside.

There was a small tug on her hand, and she squinted down into the open face of the boy, Oravius.

"You mad 'bout something, Xena?"

Xena allowed a smile to surface. She knelt again, putting herself on eye level with the boy. "No, not mad. Tired. Kinda sad. Big difference."

"What are you sad about? The lady?"

The warrior sighed. "Tell you what. You ever make a sandcastle?"

"Uh-huh."

"Ever try to make one with dry sand?"

Oravius frowned. "Nope, it'd fall down."

"That's right," agreed Xena. "Well sometimes my partner and I, we gotta try and build the castle anyway, you know what I mean?"

"No," said the boy honestly, his lips quirking into a grin.

Xena ruffled his hair. "I bet." She stood, stretched, ran her hands lightly over her sides. "You take care, Oravius. And I got some advice for you."

"Yeah?"

"Leave this town as soon as you're old enough."


"…they were gypsies?"

Xena shrugged. "They never said 'gypsies', I guess that's just the closest word I can think of. She said they didn't stop anywhere for very long."

"Like us."

"Huh. If life in that town is what putting down roots is like, consider me grateful we're movers."

Gabrielle twisted around to eye Xena thoughtfully. Walking backwards, one hand tangled in her horse's reins, she asked, "So do you think they ran them off?"

The warrior snorted. "'Course they did. Temple woman wasn't going to admit it in a million years, but it was clear as day they did everything but ride them out on a rail." She shook her head. "Suspicious bastards. When I walked in there, they looked as if I was Bacchus dancing with naked women."

Gabrielle smiled. "You do have a presence."

Xena shrugged that off. "Screw my presence, they were the kind of people who look for the bad first, and use it to avoid looking for the good."

"But they answered your questions."

"Yeah. Because their son was sitting on my lap."

Gabrielle turned around again, afraid she might stumble if she did not watch the road. "How long do they have on us?" she called over her shoulder.

"About three hours," said Xena. "Sure you don't want to ride with me? Make better time?"

Gabrielle thought for a second. In her mind's eye, she pictured the horses reaching a canter, the white hands lolling uselessly, beating a sickening tattoo against the saddlebags. Honey-brown hair spilling from beneath the makeshift shroud…

She swallowed. "No. I think … I think I'll just walk faster. Okay?"

Xena shrugged. "She said they had wagons, and cows and stuff. They're probably moving pretty slowly."

Gabrielle nodded. "Xena, this is kind of a long shot, right?"

"Guess we'll see."

Back-tracking had taken them less time than they thought it would. In an uncharacteristic burst of assiduity, Gabrielle had suggested leaving the first village out of the loop and cutting across a seam of forest at the base of the hills. She had been right. In less than an hour the two had found themselves back on the road again, making up at least half their following distance.

"Impressive," smiled the warrior as the track hailed into view.

"Why?" returned an irritable Gabrielle. "It wouldn't have been if you thought of it."

Xena bit her lip. That was true.

"Stop patronising me." Gabrielle dropped the reins and stomped to the middle of the road. "And in another demonstration of her amazing Warrior-Princess-taught forestry skills, Gabrielle points out the deep and very obvious cart-wheel marks on the road. People for leagues around are astounded at her capabilities."

"Leave it off, Gabrielle," said Xena. "Point taken. 'Kay?"

Gabrielle sighed, and it came from deep within her. She tilted her head slightly and marked her companion through one open eye. A moment's hesitation, then she crossed to Argo's stirrup and laid a gentle hand on a heavy warrior boot. "I'm sorry."

"So am I."

"Let's go."


"Hey!"

The wagons did not slow, and Gabrielle caught a glimpse of a pair of wary eyes turned briefly in their direction. "Ride up there, Xena," she urged quickly. "Let them know we aren't highwaymen … women. Whatever. They look so skittish."

Xena nodded, dug her heels in, and Argo leapt away. The hindmost wagon skewed suddenly, one of its wheels spinning fretfully on the shoulder of the track. Gabrielle's eyes narrowed. They were speeding up. Why?

She made a hasty decision, and tethered her horse to a low-slung branch. Pausing for a moment, she reached out and patted one of the limp hands. "I'll be back for you," she whispered.

There were several things Gabrielle could do extremely well now, and running faster than slow-moving wagons was certainly one of them. It took her a mere moment to catch up with the jolting train. She unsheathed a sai and stuck it into her waistband as she did so.

A woman was huddled in the back of the last cart, all stringy-brown hair and peevish face. She watched the Amazon draw near the back hatch, and her eyes grew wide as she realised what Gabrielle intended to do.

"Here! Here! You can't do that! Gerroff!" she cried out, panicked, as Gabrielle curled a hand into the straps of a water barrel lashed to one side.

"Sorry," panted the intruder as she vaulted into the cart, "not much choice right now."

Not quite a flip worthy of a Warrior Princess, but as Gabrielle brushed herself off and prepared to face her unwilling hostess, she conceded she could have had done worse. Only grazed one leg. She just had time to duck as a heavy shoe swung towards her face.

Ahead, Xena had passed the lead wagon. She galloped a short distance up the trail, then swung Argo around. "We're not bandits!" she called out quickly to the swarthy man in the driver's seat of the rapidly approaching cart. "Relax! Just pull over so we can ask you some questions."

"Like fun!" shouted the man, reaching for something beneath his feet. "We pull over and you slit our throats, is that it?" He came up with a rusted sword, and lashed his stumbling horses to further paroxysms of frenzy. Behind his cart, a pair of unfortunate cows staggered and bellowed, trying to match the pace, and Xena could see the frightened eyes of several disheveled children peeping out from beneath the canvas.

She sighed. "Argo, down the side. Go get Gabrielle."

The horse responded instantly, swerving to the edge of the track. Xena leapt to her feet on the saddle and jumped lightly atop the wagon as it rumbled past.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," she said almost kindly to the man, who was gaping in shock, clutching the reins with one hand and flapping the sword at her with the other. With practiced ease, she plucked both from his grip, hauled the cart to a shuddering stop, and turned to him.

"My name's Xena," she told him, "and I'm not going to hurt you. Do you understand?"

"Y-yes," stammered the driver, his attempt to shrink himself into the seat belying his answer.

"Now, we just wait for a second." Xena glanced back down the road, just in time to see Gabrielle canter up on Argo. "Here we go." She paused. Gabrielle had a dark smudge across her forehead. "What happened to you?"

The Amazon shrugged. "Nothing I didn't deserve, really." She turned to the driver. "Sorry for scaring you. You've led us quite a pretty chase."

"We don't have nothing worth taking!" spat the man. "So you been wasting your-"

"Like I said," Xena interrupted patiently, "we just want to ask you a few questions."


"This isn't Athens! It's not like there's a million places she could have come from! Couple of poky villages and some what? Cows?"

"I don't know, Gabrielle."

It was past dusk, and Gabrielle's veneer was cracking. She was not aware of this, but Xena was, keenly. She had untied the body without speaking, carried it outside the circle of firelight and deposited it gently under a tree. Far enough away to not be instantly visible, but close enough to guard from predators. For this night, at least.

Gabrielle didn't seem able to be still. Something about her was always in constant motion, her hands, her feet, a sai flickering between her fingers, looped gracefully back into its holster. She sighed, and studied the embers of the fire.

Xena watched her. "Wanna talk about it?"

"Do you think other people have days like this?" demanded Gabrielle, sitting on a log with a thump. "Is it humanly possible that other people start the day with nothing to do and end up tramping all over the countryside with the body of a stranger?"

Xena, from her vantage point on their bedroll, frowned. It didn't appear that Gabrielle wanted a response as such, just an audience. The warrior was willing to be one, if it helped her partner through the murk she was mired in.

And then the gates opened. Gabrielle threaded one hand through the other, and began to speak. "You know, Xena, it used to be that when I thought about the people I loved, it was like there were all these shining strings running from my body. Kinda anchored to my skin, and disappearing into the distance to wherever the people were. Right away over the mountains, over the oceans, whatever was between them and me. I always imagined them sort of … hooked in … to the people at the other end, right into their hearts. It was like my way of keeping track of them." Gabrielle paused, and a hand lifted to her temple, gently. "Not the sort of thing you usually talk about, just a silly little … well, you know the things that are important to you that aren't even logical to other people…

"So, some of the strings were thicker or stronger than others. Yours. My father's … well, that was kinda threadbare, but it was there. You know the feeling I mean? For a while, there were even strings to people back home, people I grew up with. And as I got older, they faded and one day they just weren't there."

Gabrielle was on her feet now, wearing a slight groove in the carpet of leaves underneath her. Xena secretly loved to watch her like this, when she was voicing thoughts as they came to her instead of filtering them through her bard's mind first. What she lacked in eloquence, she made up for in spontaneity.

"Used to be there were dozens of them," continued Gabrielle, stopping for a minute, her hands settling on her stomach and curling into her skin briefly. "Some of them deteriorated over time, some of them were … snapped. But it was a comfort to have them, in the fact that there were so many people scattered all over the earth that I felt connected to…"

She trailed off and gazed at the warrior. "Dozens, Xena. Know how many there are now? Five." Gabrielle sat down again. "Five. You, Eve, Lila, Aphrodite and Virgil." The hand went to her temple again, and stayed there, lightly massaging the pulse point beneath her skin. "And Virgil and Aphrodite are only recent additions. Do you know, when we first woke up in that ice cave, I couldn't understand why I felt like I had no anchor? Then I realised … it was because all those strings were gone. Just snapped. I didn't even have a chance to feel them go."

She turned her face away from Xena then, and her eyes rested on the outline of the stranger's body. Pale under the trees. Silent under the trees.

"Where are her strings, Xena? Where are the people loving her at the other end?"

Her companion remained silent, and Gabrielle did not speak again. Xena stretched out a hand and let it settle gently on Gabrielle's knee. Her long fingers were quickly covered by the smaller hand of her partner, and both were glad of the warmth. After a time, the pregnant dusk was broken by Xena's voice.

"So. Wanna talk about it?"

Gabrielle erupted into helpless, bitter laughter.


Was it possible to have a ritual that took on the qualities of a dream? Gabrielle watched sleepily from their bedroll as Xena bent over the grey ashes of the fire.

kick … kick … squint some more … now the bracers, first left, then right, always the same way…

Gabrielle shut her eyes again, not needing to see to know what Xena was doing.

Right saddlebag, rummage for fruit, walk away with fruit if it was there, with grumpy look if it wasn't … adjust armor… walk toward me… wait. Gabrielle's eyes opened as the Xena's quiet footfalls veered in a direction they were not supposed to. Where's she… oh.

The weight of the memory of their campsite guest settled heavily into the pit of Gabrielle's stomach. Lest I forget, she thought. Like I ever could.

Beneath the skins, she stretched her legs out quietly, not yet ready to announce her wakefulness to her partner, though she had no doubt Xena already knew. Like the previous night, when sleep had escaped her, her mind turned to the trails they would follow that day.

To catch a monster, you have to think like one. With a kind of numbness, Gabrielle realised something. Shouldn't be too hard for me. Not now.

Xena crouched beside the body, lifted the canvas, closed her eyes. Gabrielle flinched at the sight, threw back the bedroll skins and sat up, rubbing her arms against the chill in the air. Xena's head turned sharply, and she lowered the canvas almost guiltily, as if she had been doing something wrong.

"Morning."

Gabrielle blinked. For a second, she had interpreted the greeting as mourning. She shook her head, let sleep fall from her, stood up. "Hey."

Xena gazed at her, expressionless. "You know we have to bury her now, Gabrielle."

"Yes. I know."


Gabrielle softly tamped the loose earth under her feet. Xena stood to one side, allowing her partner the space she seemed to need, the silence she seemed to be afraid of breaking. Before them both lay the grave of the stranger. Gabrielle had chosen a high hill, under the shelter of a grove of pines, and the wind piping through the needles lent an eerie, hollow background accompaniment to the lonely scene.

Xena watched Gabrielle. Simply watched her. Too often these days the warrior was unaware of what was happening behind the grey-green eyes and the furrowed brow. Far too often for someone as singularly cherished as Gabrielle was. You'd think after all these years, I'd be able to join the dots myself… "Gabrielle?"

Gabrielle stepped backwards slightly, letting go her hold on the rough-hewn wooden marker. "I don't … we don't know her name."

"That's all right. Wherever she's gone, I'm sure they know."

Gabrielle gazed downward at the soil, its muddy turmoil reflected on her face. "Safe journey, friend," she said softly. "May you meet someone you love." The wind in the pines was her only answer, and suddenly, it wasn't enough. Wasn't even close. This is so wrong … so wrong … she's just … dead.

"Dead with nobody to cry for her." Gabrielle didn't realise she had said the last aloud until Xena spoke.

"You cried for her."

"She could be anybody, Xena," said Gabrielle sorrowfully. "How many people have died alone like this? She could have been a thousand, a million other people." She paused, and Xena saw something dark flare briefly in her eyes. "My parents…"

"But never you."

"Why not?"

Xena took her hand. "Do you really need me to say it?"

"Yes. Please."

"Because you're never going to be alone. Know how many strings I've got? Two. And so help me gods, I'm never gonna let yours go."

Gabrielle smiled sadly.

Xena wasn't finished. "And if I die before you-"

"Don't."

"Don't die before you?"

"That, too."

Xena looked down at her partner, and the expression on her face gave nothing away. "Gabrielle, we all have to-"

"Be quiet now," interrupted Gabrielle quickly. "We all have to be quiet and hold me. That's what we all have to do." She reached forward and laced her arms around the warrior's neck, burying her face against a broad shoulder, fitting her body to her companion's like a lock to a latch.

Xena complied silently, held her close, and was not surprised at all to feel the hot tears against her skin.

END