AN: Ok, so. Apparently, in ancient Greece, if you tossed an apple at someone, it was considered a marriage proposal. That little fact started this fic, and what was going to be a one shot turned into a 50K monster. The fic is completely written, just need to finish editing it, and I'm planning on posting a new chapter every few days. Hopefully you all enjoy the fluff and the fun!

Disclaimer: I do not own Xena: Warrior Princess.

Cyrene, having owned the tavern her entire life, dealt in two types of currencies- dinars and gossip.

The dinars kept her and her customers fed, the ale and wine flowing, and kept her tavern well stocked for whatever might come her way. Even if one day she had to leave, the pouch dinars she kept buried under the third stone to the left of her bedroom window in the courtyard were more than enough for her to set up again somewhere else, should Amphipolis no longer be her home. They gave her a security blanket when her children weren't there, reassuring her that she wouldn't end up in the streets, like some of the other family-less older members of their town occasionally did before someone took pity on them and took them in.

But in many ways, gossip was her real payment for the work she did. Being unable to travel often, it was the best way for her to learn about the world outside her four sturdy walls.

Occasionally it scared her, the things she heard. This new warlord had sacked a town just a week's ride away. Another had just killed everyone, burning them in their homes for his own pleasure. A third had left the place a ghost town, having rounded up every villager to sell to the slavers. And when it wasn't the warlords it was the kings, constantly going back and forward between peace treaties and declarations of war, neither of which ever lasted very long. These rumors left her tense, aching, longing for nothing more than someplace where they couldn't reach her.

She'd never leave, not on her own free will, but sometimes she wished she could.

Besides those, many of the rumors she heard were calming. The Harvest Festival in Poteidaia had been especially beautiful this year, the town having had a surprise blooming of wild flowers in the forests nearby. The Athens Academy for Bards had put on a student run play, and half way through the opening night's production the leading man had accidently knocked over a lantern, setting half the stage on fire and panicking the guests. Rome had crowned a new Emperor, the latest one having met his fate at the hands of his very council. Little bits and pieces of the world came to Cyrene in her tavern, telling her the tales she couldn't see for herself.

Some of it, though? Some of it she right out ignored, or laughed at the absurdity of it all, because, quite frankly, it wasn't true. Stories about the heroes of their time, Hercules, Perseus, even her daughter Xena, were common gossip fodder, and were more often than not gross exaggerations of the truth. A detail might be right, here or there, but for the most part, nothing about anyone famous was to be believed, at least until she could confirm it with the person herself. They were fun rumors to laugh over as she filled mugs or baked the bread her customers would want the next day, but they were never to be taken at face value.

"Hercules took out twelve nemean lions by himself, with his bare hands, all while suffering from a hydra's poisonous bite."

"Perseus punched a kraken in the face, and the kraken liked it."

"I can't believe the Warrior Princess is getting married."

"Excuse me?"

But sometimes, sometimes she couldn't help herself, especially when it was her daughter involved.

"Yeah," the young man said, looking up from the friends he had been chatting away with, a bit startled at Cyrene's sudden presence by their table. "Haven't yah heard? Xena, the Warrior Princess, got engaged. Or, rather, engaged herself, since she was the one who proposed. Did it in front of the whole market too, in some town up north, so there's plenty of witnesses. She's lookin' to settle down, I reckon, from what I've been hearin', and make a steady life for herself. I'm just upset it ain't me," he threw in, throwing a sly grin towards his friends and chuckling. "What I wouldn't give to have her in my bed and-"

"Tell me," Cyrene cut in before the young man could make a rude comment about her child, "who exactly is it that my daughter's engaged to? Since this is the first time I've heard about my child's suitor." She emphasized her relationship to Xena, making it clear he should watch his tongue.

The young man's eyes widened at the tone of Cyrene's voice, his throat working hard to swallow the thick clump of dust he suddenly found in his mouth at her words. Looking up at her, he felt his blood run cold at the sight of her face- if looks could kill, he wouldn't have lasted another moment. Stuttering heavily, the young man forced out an apology, saying he didn't know who Xena- that lovely, respectable woman- had found to become her spouse, since he hadn't been listening too closely when he first heard the rumor, but he wished her the best and many happy years with whoever it turned out to be. Shaking in his skin as Cyrene's glare refused to lift, he and his friends quickly vacated the tavern, leaving their payment and a rich tip behind as they scurried out, fighting to be the first through the door.

Cyrene just laughed and cleaned up after the boys, shaking her head at the thought that the rumor could have any kind of truth. Or, if it did have some truth, it was only because Xena had 'proposed' to someone as part of one of her strange, over the top plans. Because, as much as it killed her a little bit to admit it, Xena just wasn't the marrying type. Tartarus would freeze over before Cyrene had the satisfaction of seeing her daughter say her vows, and while she had long since accepted that fact, it just made rumors like this all the more hilarious. And semi-annoying.

But from the last scroll Gabrielle had written to her (Cyrene thanked the gods often that Xena had allowed the young bard to accompany her on her journey- every few weeks she received a scroll, detailing the girl's travel plans and giving an estimation of when they were next expecting to visit, along with letting her know they were still alive and well), the two of them were planning a visit within the next two months or so. She could get the full story then, if she didn't completely forget the rumor beforehand, and lay this whole thing to rest.

Most rumors, however, Cyrene only heard two, maybe three times before they wore themselves out, the gossipers quickly moving onto something more interesting to talk about. But in the three weeks that followed Cyrene first hearing about her daughter's supposedly impending nuptials, she heard this specific rumor almost every day from multiple customers, the whisperers speaking about it as if it was gospel truth.

The details were always a little different. Some said Xena had been the one to propose, in the middle of the town, proclaiming her love with every movement and word. Others said Xena's mysterious lover (because no one, so far, had been able to tell Cyrene who, exactly, her daughter was supposed to be marrying) had been the one to propose, in the middle of a forest clearing, alone except for some wanderers who had stumbled upon the beautiful moment. Even others claimed that she had already tied the knot, a quick ceremony in the closest Temple of Aphrodite with the goddess herself presiding, making the warrior a married woman.

No matter the exact details, everyone, over and over again, could agree on one thing: Xena was in love and preparing to tie her life to someone else's, and Cyrene had no clue who.

It couldn't be Hercules, no. He and Iolaus had just recently passed through, right before the rumors had started, heading off towards Athens to take care of some problem with the locals. Cyrene was sure the demi-god would have said something if he and Xena were romantically involved again, and Iolaus would have screamed it from the first rooftop he could climb. And that was when they were sober. The two of them had indulged in a large amount of ale and wine during their stay with her, and while Xena and Gabrielle had come up in the conversation, the talk had been more about the next festival they were all supposed to meet up at in a few months' time. Nothing to indicate romantic feelings either way.

And in similar ways she ruled out everyone else it could be. It couldn't be Autolycus; the King of Thieves was in Thebes. It couldn't be any of Xena's Amazon friends- Solari had been in town just a while ago with a handful of other Amazon women, trying to open new trade routes, and had stopped by to say hello to the 'Mother of the Warrior Princess.' The two of them had had a lovely discussion about Amazon politics, and Solari had mentioned off handedly that everyone-except, of course, their little group and their Queen-was accounted for in the village. Meaning none of the Amazons Cyrene had heard about the last time Xena had come to visit could be the one.

Cyrene had run through her entire list of Xena's friends, and was close to driving herself mad, when the answer finally came. In the form of Joxer, already half drunk when he had stumbled into her tavern, but it was an answer nonetheless, and Cyrene had pounced on the boy for some kind of explanation the moment she got him seated.

His answer was obvious, and Cyrene almost hated herself for not thinking of it first.

"It's Gabrielle," Joxer had muttered darkly, staring into the bottom of his mug. "I was there, too. I watched Xena propose, Gabrielle accept, the whole thing. Of course, they didn't know I was there- I was practicing my sneaking technique, and when I'm in stealth mode, even Xena can't find me. The King of Thieves? Heh. More like the King of Dweebs, in comparison to me, you know? I could steal the hair off a giant's nose, if I wanted to. I could-"

"Yes, yes, Joxer," Cyrene interrupted. "I'm sure you're very impressive. Back to Xena and Gabrielle, please?"

"I love Gabrielle, you know," Joxer said sadly after a few moments of silence. "I thought she could be the one. But I watched Xena propose, Gabrielle accept, the whole nine yards. It's clear she's not. Though I wanted her to be."

Joxer quickly drained his mug, ale spilling from the corners of his mouth, before wiping at his eyes. Looking up at Cyrene, the tavern owner could tell some kind of question was about to leave the man's mouth, one she could guess at and didn't want to get into right now when he was drunk.

"How about I get you some more to drink? On me."

Joxer just nodded and laid his head on the table while Cyrene took his mug and walked away.

She was angry. Not with Joxer, or Gabrielle, or even Xena, though it would have been nice if Xena had given her some kind of heads up about the addition to their family. No, she was angry with herself, because while Gabrielle was the obvious contender for Xena's hand, she hadn't thought of the young bard first.

It was clear to everyone who spent more than a few minutes with the two women that they were in love. Xena looked at Gabrielle as if she was the sun, moon, and stars all rolled into one, as if every piece of light within her life was contained within the girl. Gabrielle, for her part, saw Xena as her world: she would- and had, from the stories the girls had told her- follow Xena into Tartarus and back, if it meant being able to stay by the warrior's side.

It was clear to everyone that the two of them were in love. Except to them. Xena, the one time Cyrene had brought up Gabrielle's affections, had stated that Gabrielle "only saw her as a friend," and had moodily shut down the conversation when she had tried to convince her otherwise. Gabrielle had made a similar claim about Xena just a few hours later, when Cyrene had tried to broach the subject with her, with similar (if more pleasant, since Cyrene didn't think Gabrielle had it in her to be overly rude to someone who wasn't unpleasant first) results when she had tried to push the issue.

While Gabrielle had crossed her mind for a moment, Cyrene had figured that Xena, too oblivious to really see how much the bard really loved her, had forced herself to move on and find someone else. The idea that both girls had finally gotten their heads out of the clouds (or, in Xena's case, out of her ass) and confessed their feelings for each other was more than pleasing- Cyrene was ecstatic. She had always liked Gabrielle, from the first time they had met, and to have her as a daughter-in-law?

Cyrene was over the moon and, sure, maybe she was jumping the crossbow a bit, but oh well. Sending one of her serving girls out to take care of the front, Cyrene found a mostly blank scroll and a quill set, the ink an off tinged purple instead of the black she had been hoping for. Oh well. They were going to be family soon, so who cared about a little bit of personal touch or a message that was written on partly scribbled out shopping lists?

"Joxer," Cyrene said softly when she finally went out to the front room, sitting next to the drunk warrior and gently rubbing his back. "Joxer, are you awake?"

"Yeah," the man moaned, "though not by choice."

"Do you think you're awake enough to do me a favor?"

"I'm Joxer the Mighty," Joxer said, pushing himself up so he sat at the table instead of lying on it, though his eyes had a bit of trouble focusing. "I roam through the country side, I never need a place to hide…" His song trailing off as he realized the next line, his face began to crumple again, a sniffle hinting at how close he was to tears. "Sure, Cyrene-y, whatever you need."

"I want you to go to Poteidaia and give this letter to Gabrielle's parents. Do you think you can do that for me?"

"Yeah, yeah," Joxer said, reaching out to take the letter Cyrene held out for him- and missing completely. His face crinkling into an annoyed furrow, he tried again, with the same results. "If the letter would stop moving and become a physical thing I could grasp, I'd totally be up for it. But…"

"You're going to stay here for the night," Cyrene said, tucking the letter into the pouch Joker had hanging from his belt, "and you can head out tomorrow in the morning. Alright?"

"Sounds good to me. And Cyrene-y?"

"Yes, Joxer?"

"You're the prettiest middle aged woman I've ever met."

With that the young man was out, asleep face down on the table, snoring lightly and drooling onto the wood. Biting her lip to keep her laughter inside, Cyrene waved over two of the local men who visited her tavern often and gave one the key to the room at the top of the stairs, offering their next round free if they would put Joxer to bed. Cleaning up the table as the two men lifted him into their arms- he was surprisingly heavy, though most of that was probably his makeshift armor- Cyrene let herself chuckle as the boy was taken away.

There was almost a month left before the girls were supposed to visit. Meaning that, if her letter to Gabrielle's parents about wedding arrangements took another day to get to them, it wouldn't be too big of a deal.

They still had another month to plan the surprise wedding for their daughters. Another day wouldn't hurt.