Xena's Choice
After Gabrielle's plunge in "Sacrifice II", Xena is at a loss for what to do next... and seeks oblivion of her memories.
Xena's Choice
by LZClotho
(c) July 1998
CHAPTER THREE
Xena dragged herself back from the clearing and sat in the bushes trying to calm her heart rate. Shaking her head, she tried to focus on the dark leafy green around her. That only brought to mind more forcefully a lighter green, sparkling with light, and laughter.
"It's a bear."
"How do you get a bear?"
"There. There's the body. The little ears." There was a low throaty chuckle.
"A bear? Hmmm."
WHAM! Gods, that hurt...
Xena tried so hard to not look at the face that rose in her mind. Concerned green eyes peering past her shoulder, trying to see under her hand. She felt tears threaten and ruthlessly pushed at the image, trying to drive it from her mind.
Gabrielle arrived in the room in time to see Solan duck. A staff... her staff, came flying through the doorway, just missing the blond young man's head. He was struggling with the door, trying to pull it open.
Thinking quickly the bard swept up her staff, and ran to the door. Using it, she forced it between the frame and the handle. The wood staff and the door both squeaked under the pressure.
"Throw whatever you can," she yelled to Solan. "It won't hold for long."
Solan reached behind him and grabbed a small box. Sifting through it, while Gabrielle threw the woven mat out the opening, he came up with a small statue.
"It'll have to do," Gabrielle said, noticing the small intricately carved face. "Throw it." She pushed the staff back down, more firmly bracing the door.
Solan nodded and threw out the small item.
There was a rough growl, followed by a snarling that seemed to vibrate the room around them. Gabrielle pulled her staff free and let the door slam shut.
Xena lay on the ground, eyes fiercely closed, but the images tumbled through her mind anyway. Nervous hands reached out and grasped the tumbling things, bringing them up for her inspection, against every other instinct she had to ignore them.
A small green woven mat. A delicately carved figurine. Why, of all the maelstrom, did these two objects rise in her mind? She'd sensed a lot more carefully sealed away. And then these two things had come flying out of the nothingness.
Curiosity nipped at her and she more closely examined the memories.
The frond mat looked old, worn. Something from her childhood? She'd forgotten the innocence she'd felt back then. Everything was new, a challenge to be mastered, a new experience to be had, controlled and contained. She'd spent hours working on the small 2 foot square mat, and eaten meals on it for months.
She fingered the smooth overlapping ridges. Here's where she'd even messed up the weaving pattern, going under again instead of over the intervening frond. Somehow that made the mat seem worth more. A smile briefly touched her lips and she set it aside, reaching for the figurine.
Her hand closed around the small unpainted wooden statue. A womanly face, only identifiable as such in that it had long hair carved around its head and upper body. Cautiously she studied the face, and examined the slant of the eyes, the small bump of nose, the polished cheeks. The ears were rough hewn, but small and fine.
It was garbed in a flowing blouse and long skirt, carved in frozen flow around small bare feet, without distinguishable toes. Hands were no more than rounded nubs, laid over one another in front of the small waist.
Her eyes were drawn back up to the eyes of the figurine. A small touch of dye, the only color on the whole statue, marked them blue.
It's me, Xena thought. When did I have this?
She fingered the statue and calmly tried to remember.
Finally, what came to mind was a boy giving it to her at Winter Solstice. Then he'd kissed her. She was what? Nine, maybe ten summers old at the time. She remembered the awkward touch of his lips to hers, but remembered she'd thought it perfect at the time. She recalled the festive decorations of Solstice. A faint smile returned to her face. Good memory.
That would be okay to keep she decided. Xena tucked the statue and the frond mat into her heart instead of locking them away. A small measure of happiness nicked at the edges of her emptiness, and the darkness lifted some of its weight from her shoulders.
Slowly, she stood and gathered up her things without thought. For the briefest moment, Xena felt the touch of expectation, of promise. Tomorrow would take care of itself. Tonight, she had a couple of okay memories to curl up with and sleep.
Gabrielle and Solan rejoined Cyrene in Xena's bedroom, as the woman sifted through things from her daughter's childhood. "How did it go?" She looked up when they entered.
Solan shrugged and Gabrielle answered, "She didn't throw any back in. It's a start." She knelt next to Cyrene and opened the small chest. "What have you found?"
Cyrene pointed to three piles she'd been making, by sorting things from boxes. "There's the stuff I think she remembers as happy things. Over there are the definitely bad memories. And here," Cyrene pointed to a large pile between the two smaller ones. "These are things I have no idea how she'll react."
Gabrielle looked at the large pile. "Maybe I can go through some of it, try and figure it out."
Solan stepped forward to the pile of good memories. "Want me to take these out to the door?"
Gabrielle nodded. "Let's give Xena some pleasant dreams."
Cyrene and Solan spent a bit of time moving the pile of things into a box, to make it easier for the youth to carry.
The bard sifted through the chest while trying not to eavesdrop, but ended up listening as the two talked. Cyrene told what stories she knew behind some of the objects and reminisced. Solan busied himself putting the objects in the box as she would finish, but Gabrielle saw he could not hide his interest in the stories. His blue eyes so like his mother's became wistful.
"Sounds like we'll be giving her quite a nice night," he said as the last things went into the box.
Gabrielle nodded. "That's the idea. Maybe she'll relax her defenses."
"But you're a good thing," Cyrene said, looking at Gabrielle. "Why won't she let you out?"
"That's ...not ...a good idea," Gabrielle replied. "Xena... Well, she might not want to face all that bringing me out would let out too."
Cyrene frowned. "You were such good friends to her when she was tormented by the Furies' judgment."
The bard looked up in silence for a moment. "A lot has happened since then," she offered simply. "I'm sorry, but Xena will have to tell you anything more... when we get out of here."
Cyrene looked from Gabrielle to Solan and then back at the collection of things. "I feel like this is all a dream, and I'm going to wake up soon, find myself out of my daughter's life once again."
Gabrielle put her hand over Cyrene's stilling the innkeeper's nervous fingering of a small bowl. "I'm sorry, Cyrene."
"I'm sorry too," Solan echoed, sitting down on the woman's other side. "Come on. I'll take these to the room. We'll get some sleep, and things'll look much better in the morning."
Gabrielle nodded, helped Solan get to his feet with the box. She then reached over and helped Cyrene up. Solan nodded and departed. Cyrene remained, even as Gabrielle settled on the bed. "Something else?" the bard asked, as she started to lie back.
Shaking her head, Cyrene looked out the door. "Gabrielle, you told me Solan was a friend of Xena's." Gabrielle nodded, sitting back up. The older woman remained silent for a moment, then turned to the bard and said simply, "I don't believe you."
"Solan is Xena's friend."
"I'm not sure I can explain it, Gabrielle. There's something so familiar about him. I can't put my finger on it."
Gabrielle nibbled her lip and looked up at Cyrene. "He's a very nice young man."
Absently the older woman nodded again. "I have to think about it some more."
The bard waited until Cyrene left, then left the room quickly, searching out Solan.
The moon was rising as Xena walked back into camp. A soldier met her on the path. "Commander."
"Umm hmmm." Xena paused, wiping the faintest of smiles from her face. "What is it?"
"Lord Ares awaits you in your tent."
She nodded grimly and proceeded alone. Probably wants to go over the battle plans yet again. She could not dredge up any interest in the coming fight. Not even to fake it for the swarthy god. She knew it irritated him, that she was just going through the motions. But honestly, Xena didn't care about it any more. She was there to fight the war he had groomed her to fight. He tried to tantalize her with a future as ruler of all Greece. She mentally pulled out the little statue from her dream. What use was a future without someone to share it with? Steeled for the coming confrontation, Xena ducked into her tent.
He sat on the chair she'd used earlier, and sharpened his own sword, not looking up as she entered.
"Did I scratch your weapon?" It was a question, but her voice was neither humble, nor arrogant, nor even really all that interested in the answer.
"No."
"Um hmmm." She dropped her greaves and removed her shin guards, pulling her feet out of her boots as she laid down on her cot.
He watched her curl up within the covers, and stopped working on the blade for a moment. "What happened to you?"
She resolutely closed her eyes. "The past isn't worth anything, so what's it matter? In the morning I'll take Athens for you." She rolled over away from his stare and pushed herself to sleep, clinging to the mental image of a small statue of an innocent girl. Dimly she was aware of Ares' departure. Suddenly she remembered the name of the boy who'd gifted her with it. Kitrick.
She couldn't breathe. The memory assailed her with painful clarity. They were both ten. She'd just outrun him on the sand dunes of the Amphipolis beachhead, as evening fell at the opening of Winter Solstice celebrations. They had both, for different reasons decided to escape, even if only for a short time, the crushing amount of people in Amphipolis' tiny town square. Though he lost, Kitrick had no blustering male-ego-tied excuse, and he had laughed, fishing out the statue.
"I made it for you," he said. "You inspired me."
She took the gift in hand and sat down tiredly on the sand, feeling the gritty stuff catch under her legs. But her eyes were on the statue. "It's really pretty," she told Kitrick, while stroking the statue between her fingers.
Kitrick settled next to her and touched it while it lay in her hands. "You're very good at a lot of things I'm not, Xena. But I like you."
She looked up at his face and asked, "Why?"
Soft blue eyes met hers and his dark hair was windblown around his face. "Because you don't think it's weird that I like to carve pretty things."
Then he kissed her. The waves on the beach were the only sound for the longest space of time, as she felt the funny business of lips to lips for the first time. His lips were salty, like the sea air, and a bit dry. She giggled from nervousness, and pulled away.
Over his shoulder, she saw a figure coming down the cliff path toward them. She stood and pulled Kitrick up with her. Kitrick followed her line of sight and laughed. "It's Ly. Let's go see if he wants to go riding."
Lyceus! Suddenly Xena shuddered with fear, studying the stocky nine-year-old running toward her and Kitrick.
The boy ran up to them, out of breath, but excited to see them. "Hi, Xe... Kit. What's up?" He noticed the statue. "Helping Kit pick out some more wood for his carving?"
Xena pushed her windblown hair behind her ears and shrugged. "Want to go for a ride?" Without waiting for an answer, she ran back up the cliff hollering over her shoulder, "Last one to the stables is a wooly-headed Harpy!"
Xena sat up in bed sweating. "Lyceus?" she whispered into the darkness, feeling very alone.
"I'm here," a voice replied. She turned to see a form step from the shadows.
She felt an anguish push at her chest, trapping the breath. "Ly?"
She fumbled on the small chest next to her cot, finding the tallow wick and sparking it with flint and steel.
"Someone's been trying to reach you, Xe. Why haven't you been listening?" She could now see, sitting at the end of her bed, not the nine-year-old from her dream, but the 17-year-old Lyceus, her brother, her companion through many woodland adventures as children and the one soldier she'd always known would protect her back. He'd never disappointed her. "I'm dreaming."
"Well," he said lightly. "Sort of."
Xena pulled her knees to her chest and hugged them tightly. "Where am I?"
"You're still... in the middle of Ares' army camp... just outside Athens." He shook his head.
"Why are you here?"
"To stop you from making a mistake."
"What mistake? Ares made me. This is my destiny."
Lyceus frowned and then, did something she'd almost never seen him do when they were children... he got angry. Fuming mad actually. She'd seldom seen her brother at a loss for words, but he actually worked his jaw several times, no sounds coming out, before sputtering, "Your destiny?" He stood and paced the room. Taking a deep breath, he spun on her and shrugged. "Yeah, I guess you'd see it that way. But Xe... damn... Haven't you figured it out yet? You, your future. It's what you make of it. Come on. You've learned more than this. More than war. You more than anyone should know there's greater things out there."
She shook her head. "Not for me."
"Damn it! Yes, for you!"
She stood. "Not for me. You are dead! M'Lila's dead! Borias... dead! Lao Ma... dead! Marcus... Solan..." Her voice trailed away as all the deaths in her life piled in upon her, choking off her breath.
Lyceus didn't let her relent. "Solan is what? Dead. Yes, Xena, your son is dead... So are all those you named. But there are some who are not dead. And you're so stubborn they can't get back into your life!"
At Lyceus' charged words, stunning Xena, he grasped her shoulders. In delayed reaction, having fallen numb, Xena sank back to the cot. She lifted a fist, watched her hand squeeze on itself and then weakly released it, placing it back on the covers. "No, you're wrong. She's dead."
Lyceus shook his head. "Listen to yourself, Xena. You've started remembering the good. Yes, I remember Kitrick, too. He loved you a lot. He was heartbroken he'd never properly learned to work a sword, to defend your back." He sat down again, reaching for her hands, but she pulled away. "He confessed once when we were in the field together that he loved you. Had since you were children together." He took a deep breath. "He admired you for what you did... for what we did to save Amphipolis."
Xena shook her head. Lyceus' generous account warring with the vague memories of horrible evil, unspeakable traumas she inflicted on her own kinsmen. "No. No, everyone hated me. Hated what I did, what I caused."
"You're wrong, Xena. Search your memories again. Among them you will find the truth." He stood and walked toward the tent entrance, beginning to fade as he moved. "I promise."
Xena sat staring at the tent flap moving slightly in the night wind for a very long time. Tentatively she laid back down and closed her eyes, feeling bone-aching weariness warring for control of her mind.
Solan pulled on the door handle and felt the other side pull back, and found the tension weaker this time. He still had a few of Lyceus' things to toss out. "If I brace the door with the staff, it'll probably hold," he thought.
Behind him there was a thudding sound. Looking over his shoulder Solan found Gabrielle bounding into the room. "What's the matter?" he asked when he noticed her face, pinched from effort.
"Cyrene suspects I think."
"Then I suggest we find a way to get out of here very quickly."
Gabrielle agreed. The two of them worked through the night, pushing open the door, and it was a little less of a strain each time. They tossed many objects from exile, the forgotten good memories. The protective beast in the darkness beyond seemed asleep. So they kept at it.
After many hours, rays of sunlight started filtering in. The heaviest pall of doom seemed to lift. Soon, Xena would awaken and her mental defenses would return in force.
Gabrielle looked at the stuffed horse doll and sighed. She wondered if Argo was anywhere out there, with Xena right now. What did the warrior think when she looked at the golden mare?
Solan came to her shoulder. "Well, it seems we've sent out all the good memories. What next?"
Gabrielle pulled her staff out of the doorway. "I don't know how much time we have. The door is less difficult to hold open, but she's been sleeping. When she wakes up her defenses will return."
Solan nodded. "So what do we do?"
She leaned against the door and studied the growing light outside. "It'll be harder to hold open the door, but I think it's time we jostled her more recent memories." The blonde looked over to Solan. "Can you find something of yours in here?"
"Something of mine?"
"Yes. Time to remind her of you, Solan. We've got to get her thinking about it."
"She went on a rampage and nearly killed you, Gabrielle."
Gabrielle heard the low growl of a beast as she continued to stand in the doorway. Resolutely she shook her head. "Well... that'll get her thinking about me, won't it?"
Nodding, Solan agreed. While Gabrielle sat, holding the door open with a foot braced against the bottom while she leaned against the wall, he went and searched through the many rooms.
Xena rolled over and rubbed her head. She distinctly felt like she had been drinking. Her head was full of images, disjointed, and hazy. While she washed the sleep from her eyes, the images since seeing Lyceus in her tent slowly paraded past her inner eye.
Childhood memories, some connected to Kitrick and Lyceus, some not, flowed through her mind. She felt contentment and no threat... for the moment. She had a strange urge to find her horse and ride out into the pre-dawn fog, something she had not done... it felt... in ages.
Picking up her sword and the sheath, Xena strapped it onto her back, walking out into the pre-dawn light. Several soldiers looked up at her passing and marveled at the faint smile. Her eyes were still hooded, dark with something unfathomable, but the pall of death around her seemed to have abated somewhat.
Ares looked up from where he stood training the archers, and watched Xena cross the camp to the corral. There was a different character to her step this morning. He watched her draw her mount from among the clustered horses. Going for a ride? He watched her secure the saddle and swing up into the stirrups.
To put it lightly, Ares was astonished. In nearly a fortnight, this was the first time she'd approached her mare. Each battle drawing them nearer Athens gates, she had fought on foot. That she was considering riding again meant something had changed. Suspicious, he gestured one of the men from the ranks. "Finish this for me. I've got somewhere to go."
The man nodded and moved into place to supervise the drills. Ares rolled the tension out of his shoulders, and turned, walking into the ether, vanishing in a sudden billow of fog.
Argo's flanks heaved under Xena's gripping legs. She felt sore and exhilarated all at the same time. The familiar steed answered all of her wordless requests for speed, a jump, or a breath-taking swerve. Xena felt tears prick at her eyes and closed them against the wind in her face.
Gabrielle and Solan pulled open the door and peered out. There, in the shadows, lounged a hulking form. Its eyes, large and luminous, were somnolent as it drowsed.
"She's let down her guard," Solan whispered. "What've we got to throw?"
Gabrielle shook her head. "We cleared out most of it. Lyceus' stuff. Yours is waiting. Are you ready?"
Solan looked back. "Maybe it is time. Come with me, Gabrielle?"
She shook her head. Silence reigned for a long time, as the bard studied the open doorway, and the sleeping beast beyond.
"Good comes with the bad, Gabrielle," the youth urged her again.
Xena leaned close to the mare's neck, the golden mane caressing her face as it flew back in the wind. "Argo, remember?" She kneed the steed and lifted her left leg over so she rode with both legs on Argo's right side. Grabbing the high pommel with her left hand and bracing her right palm on the saddle's seat, she flexed her arms and pressed herself to her feet on the leather saddle.
The mare steadily continued galloping across the open plains, riding toward the rise which separated the camp from the gates of Athens. A road, the thoroughfare into the city, crossed the mad-dashing path Argo made across the high grass. Just at the roadside ditch's edge, Xena leapt up and executed a flip toward Argo's head, but the horse leapt forward as well, and as the mare's hooves hit the dirt of the road, her mistress landed solidly on her feet once again in the saddle.
The sound of clapping hands broke the stillness. "Bravo!"
Xena slid her legs down either side and settled quickly in the saddle, spinning Argo with a quick tug on the reins toward the sound of the voice. "Ares!"
"Just admiring the horsemanship. Don't mind me." The God of War leaned against an olive tree arms crossed against his chest and a smile plastered smugly on his features.
"I wasn't interested in company."
"You haven't been interested or disinterested in much of anything worthwhile, so I thought I'd see what finally had interested you in taking off on your horse."
"Argo hasn't been worked in weeks."
"Actually..." Ares pulled away from the olive tree and started walking in a slow circle around Argo. The mare pawed the ground and Xena's eyes circled with him as he moved. "When it became obvious you were going nowhere near the mare for the duration... about four days into this campaign, I assigned a soldier to work her every morning."
She hooded her eyes and watched him shrug. "I'll relieve him of that duty now."
Ares nodded. "Fine by me. Wanna go for a run?" He snapped his fingers.
Xena flinched as a large black stallion, without a single patch of white anywhere on its muscular frame, appeared next to them. Its withers were at least a hand higher than Argo's, who was not a tiny mount by any stretch of the imagination.
"Where on earth did you get that beast?"
"Not earth," Ares replied nonchalantly.
Argo danced under Xena's light hold and the warrior patted the arched neck echoing her mare's sentiments about wanting to flee. She knew though the god would find her. So she remained as still as she could manage. Her defenses however were back up, at full alert.
Solan stood in the doorway. "I'll block the rest of the area off, Gabrielle."
"You promise?"
"I promise. I'll be right behind you."
Gabrielle sighed and stepped out the door. She looked over her shoulder and saw Solan go block the rear entrance to Xena's locked away memories with a stack of boxes. Then he joined her at the doorway out. "Ready?"
"Ready." He put a hand on her shoulder.
"Can he hurt us? Permanently?"
Solan shrugged. "I don't know. At this point, all deals are off."
She frowned. "Figures." Gabrielle tucked her hair behind her ears and stepped out, focusing on a small spot of light on the other side of the dozing beast. Now, out here, she was able to get a closer look at the form. It looked like a huge dog, with teeth bared, even in sleep, a growl replacing what might have been snoring.
Its coat was leathery, definitely not a typical dog. Gabrielle looked at Solan. "Recognize it?" She gestured slightly with her staff.
Solan shook his head. "Looks like something out of the Underworld though. Probably a Tartarus incarnation. Appropriate, considering her motivation."
Just then, the growl changed tenor and the dog-thing's head shot up, eyes open wide and burning red-hot with anger. The growling escalated and it eyed her and Solan as it lumbered to its feet.
"Do you have something to placate it?" Gabrielle asked nervously. "I didn't bring anything."
"We could head back?"
So decided, they started for the doorway. However, the beast circled around behind them, blocking their ability to return.
"Looks like it's only onward and upward from here," Gabrielle realized, backing up from the fangs being bared in their direction. "Come on."
Solan nodded. "Wish I had my staff."
Gabrielle looked at the staff in her own hands and nudged Solan with an elbow. "Stay behind me." She hefted her staff and kept her body between Solan and the beast. "There's a spot of light over there," she called back toward the youth. "Run for it!"
The beast lunged and Gabrielle found herself batting its muzzle fiercely. "Come on!" Solan pulled her arm.
"No!" Gabrielle jumped aside as the beast's jaws snapped the air very close to her hip. "Xena!" She screamed into the nothingness. She swung the staff around again, this time catching the monster's snout soundly. It yelped then growled more loudly. "Please Xena!"
Ares swept up onto his stallion's back and picked up the reins. "Ready?"
Xena did not answer, but did guide Argo into step behind the stallion as the god and beast moved out. Looking at Ares' broad back, she felt a flash of anger, and tamped it down, then felt a sharp pain in her temple. Blinking hard, she scanned the horizon, trying to ignore the rising ache in her head.
"Let's open them up on this wide path back to camp." Ares turned his stallion's head and glanced at Xena who was slowly turning Argo alongside. "Something wrong?" he asked, noticing her wincing.
"Yeah, fine," she answered dully.
"I really care what happens to you, y'know."
She only raised an eyebrow in his direction.
"I do." He shrugged. "You're the finest warrior I've ever had. It's in my best interest to keep up with what's making you tick."
Xena stroked Argo's mane. Quietly she asked, "Did you make me?" As she voiced the question, she realized she'd been giving the premise a great deal of thought.
He shook his head, but then he smiled. "I made you better."
"But you didn't make me."
Ares fell silent. "Why are you asking?"
"You want to know what makes me tick? Why? What good am I to you if I'm thinking, or feeling anything past the next battle?"
Ares raised a hand. "Fine. Don't answer the question." He swept the plain in front of them. "Let's ride back to camp." He pointed up at the sky. "Full day will be upon us soon. You'll need to ride at the front."
"So will you."
"Oh, I'll be there, don't you worry."
"I'm not worried about anything." She kneed Argo into motion and rode off, leaving Ares and his mount behind both a bit unsettled.
"I wish that made two of us," he murmured, nudging his stallion into motion and watching Xena ride steadily ahead.
She looked around at her surroundings, but something made her shake her head. Then she put a hand to her forehead and shook it carefully, like she was afraid of rattling something loose.
Inside Xena's head a great deal of confusion had ensued. The pains of the headache were back in force. There was a ringing in her head, sounds like stuff was smacking against one another... Closing her eyes, she tried to sort out the sounds and images...
The dark beast bared its teeth, backing Gabrielle and Solan into a corner. The bard swung in a steady rhythm now, barely protecting a small space in front of them from the great snapping teeth. Then the beast swung, claws extended.
The massive paw caught both Solan and the bard in its sweep, and propelled them toward the door of Xena's locked subconscious.
Solan screamed seeing the wall looming in front of them. Gabrielle grabbed his arm and the two of them waited for the impact, unable to stop themselves or slow their flight.
Solan's scream penetrated the fog in Xena's mind and she recognized, as only a mother can, the cry of her child. She'd been fighting Dagnine, who had kidnapped Solan, when she first heard it. She had faced Dagnine in his own camp, chasing down the man to retrieve her son. Xena flashed back to the frantic moments when she saw Solan's cage hovering on the edge of a chasm and the moment she leapt across space and seemingly suspended time, to grab for her son's hand before he could plunge through the hole.
"Hold on, Solan!" She yelled, grasping in the air frantically. The whip wrapped itself around a branch above the hole at the same moment her other hand grasped his wrist. Breathing deeply, Xena heard the branch above them begin to crack. "Do you trust me?" she asked him. He nodded against her side. She looked once to Dagnine's amazed face and let go...
Argo danced beneath her, snapping Xena from her memory. The warrior found the mare dancing to a painfully gripped bit, and immediately slackened her hold.
"Solan?" The name was barely a whisper, but the floodgates had cracked. She had grabbed her son's hand that day. Reflexively she closed her hand, still feeling the soft skin in her own. "Gods... Solan..."
Argo rode on, mostly without guidance, as Xena closed her eyes and summoned an image of her son... the first time she saw him.
The babe squalled, held there in the hands of the cook-turned-midwife at the Warrior Princess' winter lodging. Xena had gone to be alone, with only a cook, Mirya, and one trusted soldier, Limnus by name, five months ago, as the first of winter came on the army camped outside Centaur land.
"Give him to me," she told Mirya. "He sounds hungry."
"La, that he is. And stout lungs he has too." Mirya came up alongside the bed, and passed the child to her far arm. Generously she then took a small piece of her apron and wiped at Xena's brow, lifting some of the sweat.
"Thank you."
"'Tis is a beautiful child. What will you name him? After his father?"
Xena looked up at Mirya, saying nothing. Borias? No. She studied the child and felt a warmth swell which she had not enjoyed for many months since the death of the Hun warrior. The warmth... "Solan," she whispered, acknowledging the child with a kiss to his brow. "My little sun."
Mirya nodded. "'Tis a good omen, such a strong name." Then, she uttered the words Xena had known would come, but had not really wanted to hear. "He'll become a strong warrior one day. Fighting in the honor of his mother and father's name."
And that was the moment she'd vowed to give him up.
But even her good intentions, brief flash of kindness they had been, had led to devastating evil. Solan had grown up safely only to be kidnapped by Dagnine and then nearly killed in a fight between Ixion's Evil Centaur and Kaleipus' village.
Xena felt the tears prick at her eyes. She wiped at them gently. There was no rage, only the soft, silent pain of losing a child as she remembered...
"Solan! Solan." Xena swept into Kaleipus' hut and saw the young man crouched over the memorial established to his adoptive father. "Solan?" For the briefest moment she entertained the wild notion that he was sleeping, having cried himself out for tears at the big hearted Centaur's passing. Then she stepped nearer... and noticed his back wasn't moving.
"Gods, Solan." Xena slipped off Argo's back, not sure where the mare had led them, but thankful in a small part of her mind that the place was secluded.
Gabrielle and Solan slammed hard into the wall near the doorway. Both rubbed at aches and bruises. Gabrielle sighed, rubbing her nose, which had smashed quite hard. "Geez, can't the inside be *soft* even if she's got to be tough on the outside."
"I know you're upset! Move over there!" Solan shoved at Gabrielle, pushing her in front of him. "We'll have to try something else!" He yelled to be heard over the snarling, growling noises. He pushed her out of the way of the beast's claw.
Suddenly the beast subsided, and Solan felt a tentative tug on his waist.
"Something's happening."
"What is it?" replied the blonde, clinging to the doorway and barely grasping the youth's hand.
"It's not bad. I think she's remembering me."
Suddenly there was a flood of water which swept through the open area. Solan and Gabrielle were caught up by the current, swept away from the doorway out into the open space. The monster too, was caught in the water, and twice dunked under, struggling itself for breath.
"This isn't bad?" Gabrielle yelled back, trying to swim against the current and reach Solan. "Are you okay?"
"For the moment." He was splashed in the face as he paddled against the current. Spitting water, he commented, "Tastes salty."
"Great," Gabrielle sighed, using most of her energy to keep herself alongside the youth. "Let's try swimming for the door."
"Okay."
She watched him out of the corner of her eye. "Still feeling a tug?"
Trying to nod, he found he couldn't make his head move easily, so instead Solan offered, "Yeah."
Gabrielle absorbed that then began swimming again. "We're almost there." Reaching out she grabbed hold of the door and looked back. Solan was hard to see against the water, and suddenly Gabrielle realized it wasn't the waves or the mist that caused the problem. The youth was almost see-through. "Solan! What's happening to you?"
His body was fading, the water tossing around them was being seen through the young man. She tried to grab for him. "Solan!"
Solan tread water and pulled a hand up, watching it disappear. He looked back to the blonde young woman. "Good luck. She's let me out." The youth completely faded away. The current in the water began to slow; the waves subsided.
The waters slowly receded. On her hands and knees, Gabrielle found herself panting, back at the doorway. She saw the room beyond had gotten very wet, but Solan's blocking the doorway seemed to have protected the rest of the rooms from the consequences.
The beast, she could see over her shoulder, was panting, catching its breath even as it fell asleep. Resting her head on her arms, Gabrielle kicked the door shut and cried. Happiness mingled with sadness as she considered Solan was once again remembered by his mother, but then too, lost to her as a companion in this dark place.
