TITLE: Tender Distress
BRIEF: Five years after Xena's death and Gabrielle has become everything she didn't want to be. She is bitter and angry and trusts no one and worst of all, has Ares ensuing her at her lowest ebb. Will the arrival of an old friend help her?
DISCLAIMER:I do not own Xena and those incorporated with the show, although all other characters are of my own making.
AUTHOR NOTE:This is just a short little fic. If you like, please review and I'll do more. All suggestions and criticism welcome.
She grimaced and held her breath as she tread her way through a mountain of rotten, life-less bodies. Although she was responsible for most the deaths, she felt no sorrowful remorse. She simply surveyed the motionless mass of people and carried on. It was at times like this she often thought of Xena. She imagined how Xena must have felt in battle; how strong, how commanding she must have felt. In the early days, though. Not in the times when she had become soft. She felt nothing for that Xena anymore.
But then again, she very rarely felt anything any longer. She couldn't be blamed for it, though. That was not her fault; it was simply a product of circumstance. There was a time when she would have never done anything like this; when the sight of one dead body made her feel sick and now … now she just felt stronger by the dozen.
She stopped when she passed the body of an old man. He must have been at least 70/80 years old. She looked at the man's face. He was still alive. She looked at his sword. It shone a turquoise colour in the daylight. She bent down and reached for it. The man tried to raise his scrawny arm in disallow, but to no avail as she snatched it from him. She pulled out a dagger from her leather casing around her waist and lifted the man's head from the ground. He uttered something in anger as she stared blankly into his eyes.
"You should have been home with your grandchildren, not out here. Battle is no place for you, old man. Kind wishes for the afterlife." She smirked as she drew the blade of her dagger upwards and pierced it deep into his heart.
Rising to her feet, she analysed the sword. It was pretty. She knew that much. It should make a nice clean sweep in battle. Contented, she sped up until she was nearly sprinting towards the tower in the distance.
He would be happy when he saw what she had done for him. He would be really pleased. Maybe then she could convince him that she would be a good bride.
She smiled as she envisaged herself standing alongside Ares in battle.
"Yes." She said aloud. She would make a great wife. Perhaps even better than what Xena would've done.
Death may have been Xena's destiny; but this was hers.
