It's Just What Happens
Gabrielle
knows about loss in the only way a child can, the unusually familiar
pang deep in her stomach and with a look of misunderstanding at the
edge of her eyes. Like desire and like rage, it is a distant thing.
It sneaks up on her like a monster from the shadows.
And
Gabrielle falls under the illusion like only an innocent babe might,
the fantasy that all things cherished and all those loved will
somehow remain intact.
But
with the hazy memory of tender horse-flesh and of a silky white mane,
Gabrielle knows of this lie that she holds so dear. Xena does not ask
useless questions and this old story does not come without a
warning.
It
calls up the bitter taste of death.
Gabrielle
takes in the increasingly pale vision before her, the sunken eyes of
a now dull blue and the red lips gone a shade of violet.
And Gabrielle hears a symphony of hooves in her mind, feels the sting of spinning dust...
"...but it's just what happens with things you love. Sometimes they just leave you."
Xena doesn't stare without a reason, doesn't let her gaze linger without meaning to. The words dry up again in Gabrielle's mouth. And they look upon one another, knowing how the truth manages to catch you even as you run away. Even as you cling, even as you try to ride it out... it's just what happens.
END