Refuge

The clearing became a refuge for me after that; I would pass from the bustling, lively village, into an ethereal world of soft green and hard brown and sweet birdsong. The peace of nature healed my heart and tended to the wounds that marred my soul. I would spend hours in the cold stillness of a mild winter, sitting on the log that had become mine, writing with a loving hand the stories of Xena's great adventures. It was just dawning spring as I finally came to the end of my knowledge of her. I had carefully, artfully documented all I knew about her and now there was nothing left to write. I strained my mind, thinking back minutely over everything we had been through together, trying to come up with something, anything that I had missed. Anything to prolong this sweet remembrance.

Eventually I gave up, knowing there was nothing left for me to say now. Maybe one day some little detail would come rushing back to me, something I had forgotten for now and I would write it down and add it to my collection. Add another piece of her to the only thing she had left me. Memories.


My family were worried, I could tell. They treated me with fragile care as though I would break at any moment. I couldn't understand why they would be like this; I had carefully confined my grief to when I was alone. Not one of them had seen me cry since that first night of my return, so what made them think I was so unstable that they had to handle me with kid gloves? I didn't realise at the time that they were worried because I had, in their eyes, not yet grieved, nor dealt at all with Xena's death. But I felt that it was something very private; I didn't want to sit around the hearth every night and cry on my mother's shoulder. There was nothing she could do or say that would fix this.

I tired of the worried glances and sympathetic looks, longing to be treated normally. But there was no one in the village that didn't have an opinion, one way or another. There were those who were sympathetic and those who were curious, those who had already made up their minds that Xena had deserved whatever she got and, by association, I deserved to have lost her. Sympathy, curiosity and condemnation. Those were my options and I didn't like any of them. So I retreated further from everyone, spending increasing amounts of time in my small clearing, writing fictional tales and pain-filled poems and searching for a way to avoid being sucked back into the life of a humble village-girl.

It was only six months after Xena's death before my mother started dropping hints about settling down. She would point out some attractive young man, nudging me with her elbow, and say "He's a very respectable boy, you know?"

I refused to take the hint. No way, no how, was I going to just melt into the background of Potadeia, bearing children for some 'respectable boy' and growing more bored and more bitter by the day. I didn't belong here, just as I hadn't before Xena came and I followed her away.

I didn't know what to do. I didn't belong here, but nor did I belong anywhere else! The only place that had ever really felt like home had been with Xena and now…

Tears pricked my eyes, less from grief for once than from helplessness. I might not fit here but what choice did I really have? There was nowhere else for me to go.


I wandered aimlessly through the village, now able to do so without taking any notice of the greatly reduced amount of whispers that followed me. I was old news now. Xena was old news now. Talia and Brodec were engaged to be married and this had usurped my return as the 'Most Juicy Piece of Gossip Around'. I was glad; happy for Talia and Brodec and happy for me. One thing that disturbed me somewhat, though, was that Talia was a couple of years younger than me. I knew my parents, well my mother mostly, must be anxious for me to find someone and disappointed that I was being so uncooperative.

I couldn't find room in my heart to care very much, though. I was still full of other, more pressing emotions, than guilt at disappointing my mother by not getting married.

Slowly my wayward feet carried me past the well, instinctively taking me where I was most comfortable these days.

Summer had begun, and with it my clearing had flourished. Beautiful flowers and grasses and moss covered the ground while the tall trees overflowed with rich-green leaves. The healthy vibrancy of nature drew an unbidden smile from my face. I found it impossible to be completely miserable while I was surrounded by Gaia's glory.

After a minute of peaceful indulgence my skin began to prickle with awareness of another being. The only other who knew of my clearing was…

"Ares?" I called curiously. I pitched my voice so that it was a question rather than a demand. If he wasn't nearby he would, hopefully, not respond. The clearing became silent, the birds quieting their lazy summer-songs while the last remaining spring bees ceased their constant hum. So he was here. I turned in a circle, hunting for the God amongst the trees and low bushes. He slowly stepped out from behind the tallest, oldest tree on the edge of the clearing, one hand resting lazily on the hilt of his sword as he swaggered gracefully towards me.

"Yeah?" He muttered belligerently, obviously still peeved about the last time we had met.

I rolled my eyes, ignoring the warning bells that went off in my head as I did so. When was it a good idea to roll your eyes at the God of War? Never. Still, he was holding on to this grudge with terrier-like tenacity. Surely gods had better things to be doing than brooding about mortals.

"Are you still angry with me?" I tried, unsuccessfully, to keep the incredulity from creeping into my voice.

He gave me a mutinous look which clearly said "I have better things to do," while confirming that yes, he was still angry with me.

I longed to voice my comment about gods, surely, having little time to spare for childish brooding, but fortunately common sense kicked in at that moment and I kept my mouth shut.

"So," I began casually, "Have you, uh, brought to justice the… person who…" He was glaring. I trailed off with a sigh. Of course he had.

"No,"

I glanced back up to his eyes, shock clearly written across my face. "What do you mean, no?"

He rolled his eyes then, though his earlier hostility seemed to have faded somewhat. "I mean, no I haven't 'brought them to justice' as you so delicately put it."

"But… why?" I blurted, confused. So much for delicacy.

He shook his head then and rolled his shoulders, obviously something he did when he was uncomfortable. I could see him contemplating the answer to my question and I had to wonder; what was he waiting for? What on Gaia's green earth could be stopping him from taking his revenge?

He snorted and huffed then, before saying, "I don't have to answer to you."

With one last venomous glare he cracked and flared and disappeared.

"Right. Real mature, Ares." I muttered, a faint smile tilting the corners of my mouth, despite my annoyance.