AN: So I'm currently in the middle of DMing a Xena based D&D game that's on pause for the moment, and I figured I'd take that time to kind of write up the backstory for our game. Just little bits here and there to set things up, to give some context in case I ever decide to actually turn our game into a real story. We shall see. So kind of take this as a stand-alone that might turn into an actual prologue. A little look into what Gabrielle might have gotten into after FIN.

Disclaimer: I do not own Xena.

How much more of this can you take?

They weren't words Gabrielle could hear, though she heard them all the same. Heard them as they echoed through her mind, the god's will pressing against her own as it spoke. She couldn't help the shudder as she listened- it was unlike any other god she had seen, unlike anything other she had ever experienced within her life.

The closest she had was Dahok, and even that was a pale comparison with this god she now served. Dahok had been heat, fire and pain and the promise of destruction to come as he planted Hope within her. He had been evil, hatred and hunger just waiting to lash out at the world that had denied his existence for so long. This god, this new being Gabrielle served and had served for the last year? It was nothing. It was endless, unimaginable power she had once tried to force herself to understand and had almost lost her mind to. There was no understanding, nothing that could prepare her for the magnitude of the god she had bowed before, the god she had promised a portion of her life to in exchange for a boon.

If it wanted to, if it had felt so inclined, it could have destroyed Dahok without another thought. Barely using even a fraction of its power, it could rid the world of the evil will that threatened to push forward the darkness. But even that lofty goal was insignificant to it, so it never had. Just from never thinking the thought, because Dahok was equivalent to an ant, so why waste time and energy on something so small?

All it had done was sit and wait, wait for the rising to come. A rising not destined for tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands, perhaps even millions of years, not until the sun swallowed itself whole and created a world of dark and cold where it could thrive, devouring the last of humanity and the gods themselves as it rose to create its own empire upon their immortal bones.

A rising Gabrielle was helping to set into place, a fate of the world that she herself was sealing.

But she didn't care. Not really. She couldn't care about a distant future she would never live to see, a world that was doomed to die anyway. All she cared about was the promise it had given her when she first found it, the promise to fulfill her deepest desire after she had served it.

Serve me, it had whispered into her mind, almost breaking it with the pain of intrusion that first time, and my power is yours.

How much more of this can you take?

The question repeated itself, perhaps a bit louder than before- just enough to make her head begin to ache, the increased volume of the soundless words a warning; she would do well to respond. It didn't like to be kept waiting, and while it was patient, endlessly patient, she knew, perhaps better than anyone else, that her life was nothing more than a moment to it. If it didn't press now, she would be dead before it thought to ask again.

It hurt. To say serving it was easy would be a lie, for even though it was not a cruel god- in fact, it honestly was kind. It's rising would bring an end, yes, which was why it waited to rise until after the end had already ended, and spent its time until that ending taking pity upon her and its other chosen (chosen she had seen, once or twice, though she never spoke to them. She wasn't even sure if she could), granting them their heart's desires in exchange for their services- its very being hurt. Its very existence unknowingly tried to pull her into its infinity, something as a human impossible for her to grasp. Still it tried, every second a pulling, a rip and tear within her very being that hurt.

But she was strong. Strong enough to resist it, to keep her mind and body and soul intact, to endure the pain her service caused. Which was why it had chosen her- chosen her to talk to, chosen her to stand in its presence, chosen her to perform the most important tasks, all in exchange for the largest of boons.

(She comforted herself with the knowledge that they were all bad people, souls that would have ended up in Tartarus or Hell if they had died before she had gone to them on her god's order. But that was part of it- she still heard their screams even long after they faded, and it knew. It could sense her pain through the words it shared with her, and even though they didn't matter, it still cared enough to ask).

How much more could she take? It had only been a year, a year in service on top of the three it had taken to hunt it down and convince it to bring her into its service, three years it didn't care about since, before that moment a year ago, it had never known she existed. How much more could she stand? How much longer could she live in servitude to the creature, enduring the pain of its presence and the pain of its meals as she remembered them? How many more memories would weigh upon her, memories even worse than the screams, the memories of what she had had to do to prepare for her god's rise, long after she was gone?

How much more?

"Enough," Gabrielle said into the silence, craning her head upwards to stare at the glowing eyes that hovered above her. "I can take enough."

Enough to fulfill her side of the agreement, earning enough to earn her boon. Enough that the creature would fulfill its promise to bring Xena back.

She thought she heard laughter, echoing throughout the cavern the creature called home. But even when Gabrielle left, her newest task seared into her mind (and her stomach already beginning to churn as she thought about what she needed to do), it still remained. She had amused her god with her determination, her drive to gain his favor, her goal to bring to life the one she had lost.

And to amuse Cthulhu was no small feat indeed.