CONTENT: Rated G. Vignette. Angst.
TIMELINE: After FIN2. Do NOT read if you haven't seen the series finale and don't want to be spoiled in a big way.
FEEDBACK: mistiblu02@hotmail.com
A/N: I didn't like how TPTB handled the Xena-will-always-be-with-Gabrielle-even-in-death thing at the end of the ep, particularly how Xena's ghost just proclaimed it like so much Disney sap. Much too simple, if you ask me. So, here's my angst-laden alternative. Thanks to Melly, who read this, called it presumptuous, and said that it figured, since I wrote it. :) Love ya, buddy.
***
Quando sei lontana
sogno all'orizzonte
e mancan le parole,
e io sì lo so
che sei con me,
tu mia luna tu sei qui con me,
mio sole tu sei qui con me.
Con te partirò.
Paesi che non ho mai
veduto e vissuto con te,
adesso sì li vivrò.
Con te partirò
su navi per mari
che, io lo so,
no, no, non esistono più,
con te io li rivivrò.
Con te partirò.
Io con te.
***
Six days. She'd been dead for six days. On the seventh day, she rose again and looked out the window of her cabin.
Theirs was the only ship in sight. Since leaving the port at Cyprus, they'd been blessed with calm winds and tide, but it seemed that no one else had taken advantage of the fact. Now, there was nothing but the lonely expanse of the Mediterranean separating them from Alexandria.
She breathed in the tangy wind, letting it whip through her short locks and dash away the stale scent of her cabin. Forcing down the tiny heaves of her stomach, she steeled herself as the ship bobbed along the sea. Her gaze swept over the glinting blue surface until it reached the horizon, where water met sky. The sun was just beginning to set.
She'd almost forgotten how the sky looked at moments like these, during the few minutes of transition when the world passed through the curtain that separated day from evening.
In the last few years, she thought she'd seen every kind of sunset there could possibly be. India's sunsets had bathed everything golden; Norseland's had been little more than a deepening of its perpetually gray sky. She'd spent a whole lifetime memorizing the sunsets of Greece -- her and Xena, lying on their backs and staring at the dappled spectrum of pink and violet above them. She'd held her breath in awe as she watched the sky explode in color. Other times, she'd simply stared in quiet contentment as the sky gently faded from a soft orange to purple. She ended her day in the same way that she started it -- under the warmth and glow of the sun.
This sunset seemed about the same as those, maybe even less spectacular, but she still felt her breath catch as she beheld it. She sensed, as the ship drifted closer and closer to that sun, that something inside of her was being born, and at the same time, dying.
Distantly, she realized why: it was the first sunset she's seen since she died.
Six days. She's been dead for six days.
Her gaze lingered on the burnished half-circle a moment longer before she cast her eyes downward to the darkening water. It hurt to look at the sun for too long; her eyes had grown accustomed to the dimness of her cabin, although she'd spent most of the past few days with her eyes firmly closed. For six days, she'd curled up around herself on her cot, unmoving and refusing to cry, as if she might just wither away if she lay still for long enough. She hadn't touched the food that had been solicitously brought to her room. The inside of her throat had felt like it had been scraped with sandpaper.
She'd lain in the dark, waiting for oblivion to take her, but it never did. And that was when she'd begun to cry, when she'd realized that the same fate that had stolen her soul would not grant her the gift of taking her body as well. There had been silent tears, violent and wrenching, and they'd crashed through her like an earthquake, not stopping until everything inside of her had been broken. It had felt a little like dying, and when it was over, complete emptiness and exhaustion had pulled her into a deep sleep.
But instead of oblivion, she'd dreamed...
Dreamed of her first sojourn into the world, a small, rootless creature blowing aimlessly with the wind.
Dreamed of the star that had reached for her through the darkness, that she had followed, upon which she'd placed all her hopes.
Dreamed of the woman that had been her anchor against the storm, who had ridden out the angry waves with her, until finally the storm became too great and she'd been torn from her hands.
In her dream, it was night and she was lost. She ran through the darkness, grotesque branches reaching out to embrace her, to swallow her. She could feel shadowy hands trying to pull her back, but she resisted and plunged onward, not knowing, and not caring, in what direction she was actually going. All she knew was that there was something in all that darkness that drew her, and she knew that it would lead her home.
She ran through the thicket, heart bursting, but she could feel the distance between her and it growing, could sense her impending loss as she stumbled through the night. It was leaving her.
Desperately, she cried out for it. "You've got to take me with you!"
But it was the darkness that answered her this time, deepening until she could barely make out the stars above. It was faint, now, so far away from her that she knew she'd lost it. Exhausted, she fell to her knees. "...Alone. You left me alone." She stared plaintively up at the sky. "Gods, Xena...It's hard to be alone."
And then, through the darkness, she heard it whisper. "You're not alone."
Heart pounding, she blindly reached a hand outward but met nothing. Still, the words reached out to her.
"I'll always be with you, Gabrielle. Always."
Then it had faded away, along with the night, and when Gabrielle opened her eyes, she saw that it was sunset.
***
She now forced her eyes back to the sun, wincing only a little as the brightness stung her sensitive eyes. Around it, the sky was tinged with orange and pink, and below, the water glinted with small golden flecks of it. She stared until it no longer hurt to look.
Reaching to her side, she unhooked the chakram from her hip and held it up to the dying light. Tentatively, she traced her finger around it, memorizing the dulled surface, the small scratches marring the design, the sharpness of it. It felt balanced in her hands; it felt whole. Complete.
She felt the first small stirrings of renewal as she remembered the promise she made, a full six days ago.
"You will return to me, my friend."
Gabrielle held the chakram tightly in her hands and looked out over the sea, watching as the sun continued its descent. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she realized, wryly, that something can't return if it had never left.
She leaned over the windowsill, drinking in the newly-arrived evening. She stayed there, long after the sunset, long after nightfall. She stayed until the sun rose again.
***
When you are far away
I dream on the horizon
and words fail,
and, yes, I know
that you are with me;
you, my moon, are here with me,
my sun, you are here with me.
I'll go with you,
to countries I never
saw and shared with you,
now, yes, I shall experience them.
I'll go with you
on ships across seas
which, I know,
no, no, exist no longer,
with you I shall experience them again.
I'll go with you.
I with you.
FIN