...But Then There Would Be No Story!...
We all know that the angst of Xena and Gabrielle's lives had to do, mostly, with the difficulties of raising their children. One was given up as a baby, another was the child of an evil God, and the third was the victim of an escape attempt gone wrong. But what if everything had gone right for these children, instead of horribly wrong? Who would they have become? And how would Xena and Gabrielle's lives be changed by them?
Solan
"I will raise him like my own son," the imposing centaur declared, gazing into the squirming bundle he held so delicately.
Slowly, Xena; Destroyer of Nations, backed away. Her hands went to her lips for fear of crying out, or becoming ill. Her eyes refused to cease the river of tears pooling and spilling onto her cheeks. Each step away from that sweet babe was ripping a piece of her soul from her very body. A very large piece of her was dying slowly, inevitably.
She mustered the strength to turn away from the child, and felt an immediate sharp pain in her chest. She thought the grief of losing Borias, and watching Lyceus lose his life on the battlefield, was the deepest heartache she could ever feel. This surpassed all of it. Xena was certain that her heart was tearing in half.
Unable to stop herself, she suddenly spun back."I can't," she gasped.
The centaur watched her suspiciously, suddenly coming to the conclusion that he was being tricked. Surely there was an ambush waiting for him nearby.
"I can't let him go." The mighty and strong Xena was suddenly on her knees, weeping before the centaur.
Now he was certain this was a trap. He looked around himself, flicking his tail furiously. "What is this?" he demanded, and the babe threatened to begin to copy his mother's sobs.
"I just..." she looked up and read the look in his face instantly. She held a hand up in surrender. "It's not... I'm not..." rational words were not coming to her. All she could offer him were the thoughts that were plauging her at that precise moment. "He... he is my child. He came from my body. He is a piece of me. He is a piece of Borias. Please..." her head dropped as her body lost control for a moment. "He is all I have of Borias. Please! I can't... he's my son."
The centaur was lost now. He was wary of this woman; she was capable of anything. He would not have put it past her to have kidnapped this poor babe and attempted to pass him off as Borias' son. But Xena, the great Warrior Princess, the Destroyer of Nations, the most heartless creature he had ever heard of; this person would not offer such weakness for anyone to see. Conflicted now, he ventured an observation. "You are right, Xena. The child will never know peace."
Xena may as well have been begging or praying to him. She would not meet his eyes, and her body convulsed as if it would break in half. "I know," she shivered. "But I... I can't leave him. I can't walk away." Suddenly, brilliant blue eyes met the centaur's even and harsh gaze. "Please. Please help me." It was hardly a whisper, but a plea from this broken woman could not be mistaken.
In a moment the centaur had bent and placed the child in his mother's eager arms. He saw the boy snuggle into her warmth and knew in an instant how true her words had been.
"Go," he told her. "Run. Run as far and as fast as you can. Find your family, go to a village where no one knows you, change your name even! If you are to raise the child of Borias, you will have to swear to me that you renounce your titles, your name, your whole life. Do I have your word?"
Xena nodded and cuddled her babe close. Her logical and clear eyes rose to him again. "My army. If I just disappear, they'll assume you've killed me."
"Without you to lead them," the centaur smirked, "we will make short work of your army. The whole of the centaur race would gladly die to protet Borias' child now. It is up to you, Xena, to be sure our sacrifice- Borias' sacrifice- is not in vain. Do you swear it?"
"I swear by the head of Ares," Xena held a level, strong hand to him.
The centaur gripped her forearm and grimace, "Swear by Hera instead."
Xena nodded and tightened her grip on the centaur's arm.
Amphipolis was full of dark and angry eyes as a tired and broken young woman dragged herself through the square. The villagers gawked and pointed, some snickered, and others reached for the nearest rock. Xena kept her eyes on them all. Her cloak fell around her heavily, concealing the babe at her breast. She took mental stock of the weapons she had on her. She had come to the centaur unarmed and carrying only a few coins. Weeks later, she had acquired a dagger for her boot and enough food to survive the journey. Looking at the faces of the angry villagers who recognized her, Xena twisted her foot slightly on her next step to assure herself that the dagger was still there.
Slowly she made her way through the square to the busselling tavern. She paused at the door. Weeks on the move, hiding herself and her child from anyone who might recognize them, and she still hadn't decided what she would say to her mother. She took a breath for courage, closing her eyes in a cleansing fashion. She started forward, opening her eyes in just enough time to see the sword aimed at her chest, impeding her entrance. Xena's tired blue eyes trailed down the blade, to the hilt, and the small hand that grasped it firmly. Slowly she lifted them to meet the small innkeeper's dark eyes and set jaw. "Mother..." she breathed, unable to come up with those magical words that would make everything all right again.
"Why are you here?" that tiny woman demanded so fiercely that Xena stepped back.
For a second Xena hesitated and considered how strange and irrational her sudden fear was. Just weeks ago, she was facing the centaur army, head-on. She had sailed the seas, conquered and killed in Japa and Chin. Xena, the Warrior Princess, Destroyer of Nations was the most powerful person in most of the known world. But this little brown-haired woman, over two decades older than herself, and half the size; it was this woman that the great Xena feared. The change in her had been monumental and almost instantaneous. The moment she held that child, now clinging to her chest, something profound had happened to her... and Lao Ma's words suddenly meant something to her.
"You're not welcome here, Xena," Cyrene's expression never waivered. "Go back to your army. Or are they waiting in the hills for your signal to attack?"
"No," Xena's voice shook and her eyes darted around, unable to meet her mother's. "No traps. No tricks. No armies. Just your help. Please, mother?" Xena was bruised and cut-up in several places during the journey, but her pleas were not for herself and it was apparent in her voice. Her very essence begged for someone other than herself; something she hadn't done since Lyceus' death.
But still, Cyrene was adimant, ever distrustful of her daughter. "My help? You've never needed it before, why start now? What could you possibly need my help with?"
Slowly, precisely, Xena unfolded the cloak. Her stomach plummetted, and her heart raced as she produced the sleeping bundle. Cautiously, she looked to Cyrene to gauge her reaction. The woman's mouth had fallen open and she gaped, speechless at the sweet babe. The sword was suddenly on the ground, propping the door open. "I..." Xena hesitated, speaking tentatively, "I don't know how to be a mother. Please mother? I want to learn. This child deserves a mother who knows how to care for him."
Cyrene reached out and took the baby, almost as if she never heard Xena. The child squirmed and let out a short cry of discontent at being seperated from his mother. But Cyrene craddled and rocked the babe, shushing and speaking soothing nonsense. Without looking at her daughter, Cyrene began demanding answers.
"Boy or girl?"
"A boy. Your grandson," Xena tried to sweeten the sound of it, unnecessarily.
"What have you named him?"
"I haven't. I used to call him by his father's name." Xena paused and looked away, "It doesn't fit him."
"Where is the boy's father?"
"Dead," Xena's voice shook hard as she clenched her jaw.
Finally Cyrene looked up at Xena, her dark eyes piercing the lost, grieving new mother. "Did you kill him?"
Xena took a breath. The question hadn't been unexpected, it was just said with so much willingness to believe it. Xena steeled herself and said, "No, mom. I... loved him."
The baby boy fidgeted and began crying in his grandmother's arms. Cyrene looked to the babe and then fixed her gaze level on her daughter. "Your son is hungry, Xena." She went silent and Xena waited, holding her breath. Finally she awarded the broken woman with a small smile. "Come inside, I'll fix you some food while you feed him."
Xena smiled and made to follow Cyrene's steady and sure footsteps, but she stopped at the door and peered out at the village square again. The villagers peered back at her, nervous, curious and skeptical. But there was no longer fear there. Her heart lightened, Xena closed the tavern door and followed the hungry cries of her precious little boy.
10 Years Later
A lanky, blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy ran through the peaceful little village of Amphipolis as fast as his strong legs could carry him. Vendors and villagers alike called out to him to slow down, but he never waivered. It was as if he travelled on the wind, his determined gaze fixed intently on his purpose. Like lightening, he swung himself into the tavern, bolting through the tables and chairs, the few people who were enjoying their mid-day meal, and past the bar. He reached out and caught an apple from the basket that his grandmother was arranging at the end of the bar.
"Solan! Solan, you come back here!" Cyrene called out as the child practically flew past her.
"Can't!" Solan called back. "Someone's coming!" The fresh, red apple was in his mouth before he was out the other door. He sprinted to the edge of the village, falling in amongst a few other boys his age. "Who is it?" Solan panted out.
"Looks like a girl," Peridon, the boy to Solan's left, rolled his eyes.
"A girl? That's it?" Solan sighed, horribly disappointed. "I raced all the way out here for some girl?"
"Hey," a large boy shoved him out of the way roughly to get a closer look, "out of my way! Let me see her!"
Tersis was five years older than Solan, and much larger in height and muscle. But Solan was never one to back down from a challenge, and as soon as he gained his footing, he shoved back. "I was standing there, Tersis!"
"So?" Tersis shoved him back, more forceful this time, nearly knocking Solan off of his feet. With a satisfied smile, he turned back to the approaching figure. "She looks pretty. Maybe she'll stay a few days."
"And maybe she'll get a good sniff of your stench, Tersis, and go right back to where she came from." Solan had moved in front of the older boy, and was now forced to look straight up at him because of their height difference.
Tersis' nostrils flared at the smaller boy. "I'd watch my mouth if I were you, Solan. I haven't seen your mommy around here for the last few days. What's the chances of her coming to your rescue, do you think?"
Solan's eyes flashed in anger, and he took a step back to ready himself for a fight. "She won't need to help me. She's taught me a lot! My father used to be..."
"Your father's dead, Solan! Get over it!" Tersis pushed past Solan, starting to make his way back through the market. "Your crazy mother probibly killed him anyways..."
With no thought what-so-ever, Solan charged at Tersis, ready to pounce on top of him and get in as many good punches as he could. But, Peridon caught his arm and pulled him back with a sigh. "Forget it. He's not worth it, Solan." But still, Solan watched him walk away, his fists clenched, and the fantasy of the boy's horrible death flashing in front of his eyes.
"Excuse me?" A light, enthusiastic girl's voice interupted them and all the boys jumped. "Can you tell me if this is Amphipolis?" There was nothing but silent staring from the boys. "Sorry, but I'm just passing through, I was wondering where I could get some food." The boys stared at her, not moving or speaking. "I have money!" She assured, a pleasant, inviting smile on her lips.
Peridon shoved Solan forward, making the light haired boy squirm uncomfortably under of gaze of quite a pretty, older girl. "My... my family owns the tavern. You can follow me there."
"Thanks!" She shifted her pack on her shoulder and smiled at him sweetly as she followed.
Solan glanced back at her repeatedly. She was never really watching him. She was wrapped up in the people around her; the sights and smells of Amphipolis. Her stawberry blonde hair glowed in the sunlight and Solan found himself having a bit of trouble looking away from her. They reached the tavern, and Solan breathed for a bit of courage and puffed out his chest slightly. He bounced backwards up the tavern steps as he watched her follow him. "What's your name?"
The girl's bright green eyes flew back to the boy that she hadn't really been paying attention to. She smiled at him as she climbed the steps. "Gabrielle. What's yours?"
"I'm Solan," he told her, and as he did, his chest puffed out a little more.
"It's nice to meet you," Gabrielle reached the top step and began sweeping the dust of the road off of her torn peasant skirt and old ripped top. "I don't normally look so rough and rugged. I've been on the road a lot lately."
Solan opened the tavern door for her, smiling at her with a curosity that he couldn't explain. "What for? Are you a pedler?"
Gabrielle laughed. "I'd make a pretty terrible pedler! I couldn't take care of a cart and a horse if I tried. No, I'm a travelling bard."
"Really?" Solan's eyes widened and he took a step closer to her.
Gabrielle smiled at him, she was getting more and more used to this reaction from people; children mostly. She started to say something, but an older woman's voice broke her off.
"Solan! Who is that with you?" Came a call from the kitchen.
"Her name's Gabrielle!" Solan suddenly sprinted away from the young blonde girl and into the back room, but it didn't matter; Gabrielle could still hear him. "She's a travelling bard, grandmother! I've never met a bard who's a girl before! Do we have fresh bread?"
Gabrielle giggled to herself, and took a moment to look around herself. The tavern was dark, but cozy. Amphipolis was such a wide open area, the tavern was a welcome relief from the constant beating of the sun. The whole place smelled of well roasted bird and sweet, strong wine. An interesting place for a young boy to grow up in. And Gabrielle wondered just how many generations of his family had done so.
"Gabrielle, is it?" An older woman came sweeping graciously out of the kitchen, her hand extended in welcome to the young bard. "Welcome! I'm Cryene, I own the tavern. Is there anything I can get you?"
Gabrielle took her hand gratefully, and noted the warm grasp. She smiled at the small, dark woman, even though a sudden homesickness for her own mother inexplicably shot through her. "Just a meal, thank you. I have to get back on the road. I'm on my way to Potedia. I'd like to make it before nightfall."
"Well, that's an ambitious task." Cyrene glanced around herself. "Especially on foot. You sit down, I'll fix you some food, and I'll see if anyone is heading in that direction today. We might be able to find you a ride."
"Thank you!" Gabrielle's green eyes were wide in suprise at the generous hospitality. "You will not be forgotten! Your kindness will be written into one of my stories, I promise you that! And they will hear about your generosity from Athens to Carthidge!"
Cyrene was a little taken back by the theatrics of this outburst. But then recognition set in, and she gave the girl a knowing smile. "Gabrielle," she caught her attention, "exactly how much money do you have?"
Gabrielle's bright face fell a little as she lowered her gazed to the dark woman's face. "One dinar to get me all the way to Potedia. I could have sworn I had more, and when I woke up this morning, this was all I found." She held up the single coin. Cyrene sighed at the little waif-like blonde, and Gabrielle turned away, prepared to leave the tavern... as she had already done twice that day.
"Gabrielle," Solan raced out of the kitchen and innocently blocked her exit path, "I brought you some bread!" Having no idea what had just transpired between his grandmother and the bard, he set the fresh bread on one of the tables and dropped into a seat. "What's it like being on the road? That sounds so exciting! I've always wanted to travel! And what's it like being a bard? I bet you know some great stories!"
With her eyebrows raised, Gabrielle glanced between Cyrene and the boy, waiting for either the command to leave, or the permission to sit. There was silence for a full minute before a dark, powerful voice came from the stairs.
"Little girl, if you can keep my son interested in something that isn't fighting for more than five minutes," the voice stepped into the light, revealing pure black hair, bright blue eyes, and a dark, gaunt face, "then you deserve any free meal you wish for."
"Mother!" Solan jumped up, and ran half-way up the stairs to greet her. "You're awake! Will you come outside today, mother?"
"Not today, Solan," she told him sadly, sliding her hand across his cheek lovingly as she passed him, coming down the stairs.
"You haven't been out in a week, dear," Cyrene implored, concern suddenly flooding her face. "You should see the sun, enjoy the air..."
"Not today, mother," she affirmed quietly. "Gabrielle," she turned to the little bard who was transfixed on her sunken clear blue eyes, "it's Gabrielle, right?"
Gabrielle nodded, unable to tear her eyes away from the strong, but thin figure that passed before her. Her mind reeled at all the possibilities of this woman's story; how many different places could this shell of a woman have come from.
"I'll fix you a meal. On me. You sit... tell my son a few stories. He loves a good story," the tall, dark woman smiled at her son, and breezed into the kitchen without another word.
Gabrielle hesitantly sank into the chair nearest her, watching Solan and Cyrene stare after the inexplicable woman who had just disappeared, as if a ghost. And when Cyrene followed her daughter into the back, and Solan had settled in across from her, she began a story. However the real story was in that kitchen at that moment, and Gabrielle kept herself tuned in to hear anything that might be said about, or by, this ghost-woman who wandered the tavern in Amphipolis.
Solan beamed as he watched his mother set the plate of fish in front of the travelling bard, who dug in gratefully, just as she had done with the bread. The girl was hungry, and Solan's mother sunk into the chair beside him and watched her quell her hunger. With an arm wrapped around her son, the mother began a conversation, her tone a bit gravelled from not being used. "So, what kinds of stories have you heard from our bard."
"Lots!" Solan bounced. "About Hercules, and Prometheus, and this one time, she was captured by Amazons. Real Amazons, mother!"
"Imagine..." Xena smiled weakly, desperately attempting to not be sarcastic. And desperatly trying to erase the mental image of Queen Cyane's body impaled on a tree limb in Siberia.
"They're really not that bad," Gabrielle mumbled out, her mouth still partly occupied with her food. "Once they found out that I couldn't even track a rabbit on a clear day." She leaned forward, confidentially to Solan. "But I'll tell you, after being with them for a couple of days, I learned things I'd have never been taught back home."
"Can you show me?" Solan leaned forward, completely intrigued.
"Maybe sometime, when I come by here again. But really, I have to get back on the road." Gabrielle started to stand up, but Solan's mother was faster.
"Wait. It's going to get dark soon. You won't make it to Potedia on foot, and we haven't found anyone to give you a ride." The dark woman had obviously been planning this, but she was trying not to let it show.
"Oh, it's all right," Gabrielle's gaze was glued to this woman and she suddenly couldn't think of why she was heading to Potedia, why she didn't just stay right in this very spot. "I actually enjoy sleeping outside."
"Really, Gabrielle. You can just stay here. Show my son one or two things. I'm sure you could make a bit of money with your stories tonight here in the tavern." The dark woman was fighting the urge to reach out and hold on to the little blonde girl.
"Honestly, I don't want to take advantage. You've already given me a free meal. I can't take a free bed." Gabrielle was only arguing out of politeness now. She knew, and this tall, dark haired woman knew, that Gabrielle would not be leaving any time soon, for some inexplicable reason.
"You won't be. I'm hiring you as the tavern bard. Right now. You tell a few stories tonight, keep people entertained, and you'll have earned your room and board."
"Okay," Gabrielle had to smile at that determined face. There was something behind it that she didn't want to admit to.
The ex-warrior struck out her had to the little bard to seal the deal. Gabrielle reached out and grasped her hand, and both women hid a gasp. It was as if a bolt of engery passed through them, and filled them with this warmth that grew the longer they stared at each other. It was a long time before they released their grasp and settled back into their chairs. The dark woman tucked her son close, and the light one kept her eyes fixed on mother and child. Slowly, Gabrielle tilted her head curiously
"What did you say your name was again?"