—OOO—
Warning: this story is very sad indeed! Gabrielle sits at a camp-fire and muses on her present situation as she writes a scroll. She thinks about her life without Xena; putting into words the agony of bereavement. This story gives one of a myriad possible outcomes to Gabrielle's loss of Xena after the events of AFIN (A Friend in Need).
—OOO—
Disclaimer: MCA/Universal/RenPics own all copyrights to everything related to Xena: Warrior Princess and I have no rights to them.
—OOO—
'Long, Long Years after AFIN'
I often wonder, as I sit beside a camp-fire or at some dusty Inn, what our life together amounted to in the end! Whether what we did together had any kind of far-reaching impact on the peoples of the world; or whether everything we accomplished will just softly melt into the fog of History and be forgotten?
Here I am, alone now; after we had been together for so many years I fear to count them, and having passed through so many adventures, crises, temptations, and tragedies. The latter outnumbering all else, by far. Sometimes I think, Xena, that what we have done: what I do now, for the greater good, is causing more trouble for people in the long reach of future times than we really understood. Perhaps if we hadn't been as ready to jump in to help fight Civil Wars; stand against Barbarian outlaw bands; try to stop the advance of the Roman Legions! Maybe just let things take a more unhindered course?
Ah! I hear you! We can't let a stricken person or family or townspeople be attacked or used unlawfully! We have to stand against Tyranny and oppression. But we can't stand against it all! Sometimes we weren't there. Sometimes we had to fight somewhere else. Sometimes we had to make a decision to help one group, instead of another. Sometimes we had to do something that hurt people, but helped the greater good!
Oh! This greater good! It sounded so wonderful when we first discussed it! How splendid it was to help you come to the aid of some town, or country; and see the clouds lifting from people's lives and happiness spreading where there had been fear and tragedy for so long. Then we went to Japa, and I finally found out what tragedy really meant! Why, Xena? Why!
It's cold! Cold! Early Winter has come round again; and the High mountains where I'm travelling now are chill and snowy already. I like the cold, and the snow. It reminds me—it helps me to control my memories. You never die, Xena, in my memories! You're always with me; when I get up in the morning you're the first thing I think about; when the cold snow beats in my face and chills me to the bone I feel your heat in my body; when I see the sparkle of the sea, I see your eyes! On a cloudless day; looking up into the clear blue ether, I scream inside for you to hold me!
What is Life: is there Life? Being alive isn't Life! Knowing Life is knowing Love; and you're gone! Gone always! Gone for good! Why did you do it, Xena? Why did you let yourself die? I thought you loved me too much for that?
A log is sparking in the fire. I like it when that happens. It makes me feel I'm not alone in the wilderness; I don't know why! Sometimes the flames burn bright and red. Other times they flicker a deep orange; or even green. On rare occasions they burn blue! Why is that? Does it have a meaning? Is someone trying to send a message? You? No! Not you! I know that! Never you; always someone else. I search for you everywhere I go; but I never find you. When I'm in a crowd on the streets of a town I sometimes see you walking along in the distance. I run forward; pushing people out of the way in my hurry, but I never find you. You're never really there. Just someone who looks a little like you; or no-one at all. Just my mind playing tricks.
I often think about madness. How peaceful it would be to be truly mad! Then I wouldn't need to constantly upbraid myself about my emotions; about my life. About whom I help and who I don't. Those people I can't help; they're beginning to weigh on my conscience; more and more every year. It's been years now, since you died, Xena, and I'm losing track of what's supposed to be right, and what might be wrong. How clearly now I see what Callisto felt; I'm just like her too, these days. I am: I know it!
I used to think she was insane; but now I know she was just unhappy, like me. And then she went away to be good. And Eve went away to be good. And I've heard nothing of her in all these years. I wonder if she knows I'm still alive? I wonder if I care? And Ares! Yes, Ares! What of him? He used to come to me with plans to rule the world; to achieve great things. But then one day I caught him looking at me; just looking at me. He hasn't come back since then! Alone! Alone! It's such a beautiful word; but you can't get the real flavour just by reading the word. You have to experience it for yourself. I like Alone. It's what defines my whole life these days. If I wasn't alone; I wouldn't be!
I heard a noise under the nearby pine trees just now; but it was just a small deer passing by. I didn't see it; but that sense you showed me in Japa, of being still and letting the life of your surroundings soak into your soul, that told me exactly what it was. I hear things in the night and I know exactly what they are. Animals; birds; women or men creeping up on me; demons and spirits flickering through the undergrowth intent on annoying me. There are lots of those these days. I think I have an aura that lets them pick up on me, they come so often. But not many stay to really annoy me. Most sense my emotions, and leave. They feed on emotion and fear, and when there is nothing but a void instead; well, they have nothing to feed on! I'm no longer scared of Harpy's or Demons or Wraiths. They seem to think I'm one of them, now. I wonder if they're right?
My horse whinnied in the darkness a few yards away. For a moment I thought it was Argo. Remember when we were out under the stars, in the middle of nowhere, and she would do that? As if she was saying 'Hallo, I'm here. I'm your friend!' But you're not here, Xena!
It's been dark a long time today. This time of year you can't expect anything else, but it's annoying when you want to travel. You have to—no, you don't! I write you, but I mean I! You aren't here; it's me! I can't expect anything else. The darkness is annoying when I travel. I have to spend so much of the time sitting beside a fire, thinking about—. I suppose you know I died when you died, Xena? Did you ever think of that? Before you let that bastard kill you! I killed him, of course. He's dead now. No more worries about him. I liked it; when I came to look back on it. It was the only thing I could do for you, Xena. Now there's nothing I can do for you.
I keep your ashes close by, in a pottery vessel. I have a small leather case I keep them in, for safety. It's in one of my saddle-bags now, over there. I used to hold it tightly and weep over it; but I don't anymore. I never cry anymore; because I know now you don't care.
Do you ever think, Xena; wherever you are, of all the good times we had together? I do. Constantly. I like to think of the happy times. The bad times make me scream at night.
The clouds are passing across the night sky. I thought it was going to snow tonight; but it's clearing. A starry sky. Remember when I used to annoy you so much about the stars. I think I nearly drove you mad! Now all the stars sit and stare down at me, like people I've never met. And I stare back, but I don't understand them anymore. I use them to guide me when I travel at night. That's all they do for me now.
I have good warm blankets wrapped round me. I bought some woollen blankets in the last town I passed through. Very good ones. They're not heavy; but they are warm. It's so comforting to be warm. I lie and pretend it's you beside me making me warm, as you used to. I so loved that. I used to wait till you were asleep, then stretch a hand out and wrap it round your neck. Just lightly; so softly you never suspected, I'm sure. But it made me so happy. I miss that.
The air is fresh up here in the High mountains. Sharp, clean, full of energy. Breathing up here makes me want to dance with joy. Sometimes I take a few steps; but then I think, what good's dancing on your own? So I stop. I sit and clean my sword each evening before I lie down. I sit and run a flat stone along its blade. Up and down. Up and down. Like you used to. I know the necessity of having a sharp sword! Sometimes I forget and look at my sword when I wake in the morning. It seems to be sharp still, and I catch myself wondering if you came and sat, while I was asleep, and sharpened the sword for me, as you used to? I so wish that was so! Where are you, Xena? I need you!
A bird cried out, just now, in the dark. Not an owl or falcon. An ordinary bird that felt scared in the night. Why do they do that? I suppose it's like a horse rearing at a shadow. I jump at shadows often. Not that I'm scared of anything. I just think sometimes that a sudden movement near me; a shadow trembling, is you coming back into camp after going for a scout around. But it never is. A wolf once appeared and sat on the outskirts of the pool of light my camp-fire cast. She sat there for an hour; just looking calmly at me. She never made a move to attack or anything like that. Just sat, quite comfortably and watched me. What did she want? I never found out. I put another piece of wood on the fire a little later and when I looked up she was gone. My horse was tethered a few yards away and never gave a sign of fear or knowing the wolf was there. I wonder if it ever was? Strange! I think wolves come and sit by my camp quite a lot; but they know who I am, and leave me alone. They desire nothing I have.
Quite often, when I travel over vast snow plains in the morning sun the flashes of the crystals seem like a field of diamonds. Do you remember when I used to say we should gather them in our pouches and sell them to jewellers in the city, you laughed and said they would melt and soak our clothes and what fools would we be then? And I said 'Have you no Romance, Warrior Princess?' Now I just half-close my eyes against the glare, and ride on. What else is there to do?
The days are short; and the nights overlong. In the dark come all the Demons of Tartarus. They used to frighten me; but I just ignore them now. You'd think Hades would get fed up trying! But I know where I'm going when I die; to the Amazon Land of the Dead! That's why I don't kill myself; like you did, Xena! I would be disgraced if I; as an Amazon, did that. But it didn't stop you! Was our love nothing, in the end?
I meet all kinds of Amazon tribes on my travels. They almost always try to make me settle down with them. It's true I seem to be very happy when I stay at an Amazon village. The life they lead is so pure; so refreshing; so right! I stay sometimes a week; other times a month or so; last year I stayed with a tribe for 6 months. I really thought I might settle with them for good, and forget you! But I came out of my hut one morning and saw you standing in the distance, among the other dwellings, in a crowd of other women milling around. I ran across; but, of course, it wasn't you. I knew then I was never going to lose you. I left that afternoon.
Why do I keep writing these scrolls? I never send them to anyone. I never send them to you, Xena! I always end by throwing them on the camp-fire and watching them burn. Come to think of it, that's what makes my fire burn blue every now and then. You never read any of my scrolls when you were alive! You can't read them now! Why do I keep on writing them? Maybe because it's the only way I have left to speak with you? Where are you, Xena? Why aren't you with me?
Did you ever notice how warm the pine trees look covered in snow? The dark shadows under their branches seem more inviting! It's good to camp under a spreading cedar or high pine and be protected by the overhanging boughs that stop the snow falling on me. Now and again I find a cave. They're good in cold weather. My horse stands and snorts happily in a corner and I sit by a small fire and imagine lots of friends, Amazons, sitting just out of sight in the surrounding shadows. Caves are good for that. I try to imagine you're there too, sometimes; but I know you never are. That would be too easy; too kind! And you're not kind; are you, Xena? At least, not anymore. When I cry out in the night the sound echoes in a cave; and sometimes, in the falling echoes, I hear you faintly calling me in the far distance. If it was a large cave I used to rise and explore the passages; looking for you. But I don't anymore, because I know you are only playing with my agony and would never let me find you. Why do you do that, Xena?
Women, young girls, try to join me on my travels. They say they want to have a life of adventure. To travel and see the world. To be with me! They have expertise, they say. They know how to navigate by the stars, and speak with philosophers. But I take no notice of them. They are nothing to me. Some try to follow me across the hills and the valleys; but I soon lose them. They're never good enough to keep up with me, if I don't want them to. And I never do. What is a life of adventure to a young woman? Fighting bandits, deadbeats, political intriguers; in defence of people who can't protect themselves. Being thought of as nothing more than the scum of the earth yourself for your trouble! And then abandoned by the one person in the world you lived for unselfishly; till they betrayed you! I hate you, Xena! I wish I could forget you; but I can't. The silence in the wilderness won't let me.
I suppose I'll burn this scroll in the morning when I break camp. The words on the parchment before my eyes: they say so much, but mean so little. There is no meaning in what I write; or what I do; or where I go, anymore. Life is meaningless. Is it Life? Is it even Existence? It is agony; always!
I've given up. There just isn't anything anymore. I'm empty.
The End.
—OOO—