Chapter Two
They started early the next day when they left Halyphos. It was a cool, gentle morning, the sun bright and the air crisp. Gabrielle could see Argo glorying in the beautiful weather, shaking her head happily and swishing her tail. Joxer ambled along, humming his silly song to himself, swinging his arms happily. Even Xena seemed to be enjoying the morning, narrowing her eyes and gazing at the broad blue sky above them.
They travelled on the highway that lead to the Corinthian Isthmus, that passed through many towns along the way. Gabrielle assumed they were headed for Pelennos, which recent intelligence (the blacksmith they beat up on) cited as Mallecium's next target. It was along this highway that Mallecium had also travelled, taking the towns that strung it like pearls. (All except Halyphos, which, by no coincidence, was the home of the crooked blacksmith). Between thick, old patches of forest stretched fertile, rich fields and cultivated vineyards that sustained these towns.
Gabrielle wasn't entirely clear on what Xena was planning against Mallecium. They knew he had an army of about sixty men, and that he was ordering new weapons for them. Gabrielle had to wonder why Xena was heading for Pelennos and away from Halyphos and the dirty-dealing blacksmith.
She was even more mystified when Xena headed down a fork in the road into the forest. Gabrielle stopped, leaning on her staff.
"Xena... where are you going?"
Xena looked over her shoulder as she brought Argo to a halt. Joxer had followed her wordlessly, and now he stood next to her, looking between them with an intrigued expression.
"Lake Hyrmine," said Xena.
Gabrielle huffed a laugh. "Don't you think it's a bit of an inappropriate time to go fishing?"
Xena rolled her eyes and smiled thinly at Gabrielle. "We have two weeks until those weapons are ready. That's two weeks until Mallecium will strike his next target. Rushing into Pelennos and waving our weapons about isn't going to accomplish a thing."
"You're gonna scout out Mallecium's location, right? See what kinda outfit he's got..." said Joxer, pointing at Xena and grinning.
"Joxer, be quiet," muttered Gabrielle, exasperated.
Xena lifted a brow. "Actually, Joxer's right."
Gabrielle blinked. "What?"
"We're going to set up camp by the lake. And then I'm going to see if I can find where our little warlord pal is hiding." With that she turned Argo about and kept on down the track.
Giving a little laugh of disbelief, Gabrielle sprinted down the track to catch up with Xena, looking up at her imploringly.
"You can't be going alone..."
"I am," said Xena, eyes locked on the forest trail ahead.
"Don't you think it would be better if I went with you? Backed you up in case you're found?"
"That's a nice thought, Gabrielle," said Xena, finally looking down at her. "But it's better if I'm on my own. One person is quieter and leaves less of a track than two."
The bard folded her arms, frowning stubbornly. "I don't like this."
"Besides," said Xena. "Someone's gotta look after Joxer."
"Hey!" Joxer said, voice raised. "I don't need looking after!"
Gabrielle rolled her eyes, and Xena smirked.
"It was a joke, Joxer."
"Oh."
The bard all but kicked the ground as they veered off into the forest. Her temper had flared up, and she was angry at Xena, at Joxer, at the Gods. Things were changing about her and she didn't mind so much but they weren't how she wanted them to change. She kept reminding herself that she was Xena's equal now, that Xena had said so. What worth were words when she told her to stay behind and babysit Joxer? Of all the hypocritical, patronising things to do...
A frenzied clanking alerted Gabrielle to a sudden movement on Joxer's part. She grabbed her staff tightly in ready defense. But Joxer was smiling, his hands cupped together. Gabrielle looked ahead to Xena, who looked over her shoulder with a lifted brow of concern. Joxer held his cupped hands in front of Gabrielle, and she looked down to them, curiously.
At once he parted them, and from the space they created burst a flurry of elegant colour. She couldn't help but gasp, and as her eyes focused on the thing fluttering from Joxer's hands, she saw it was a butterfly. It gamboled about, meandering this way and that before entwining itself in the path of another butterfly, and the two colourful insects danced with each other before disappearing into the canopy of the forest about them.
Joxer smiled, eyes on the butterflies. "I didn't want you to miss seeing it," he said. "It was pretty."
She felt the corners of her mouth battle to smile, and she let herself, just a little.
~~*~~
The first thing Gabrielle did after they set up camp by the lake was pull out her scrolls, quill and ink. Her stomach was a knot of emotions, of anger, confusion, worry and other feelings uncountable. She unrolled a parchment, barely listening to Joxer and Xena chat to each other. It was a surprisingly calm atmosphere in the camp, considering what the days held ahead of them.
As Gabrielle's eyes roved over the empty scroll in her lap, Joxer ambled over, dropping onto his bottom on the pelt next to her.
"Hey. Whatcha writing?"
She gave a tense smile, clutching her quill. "Uhm. Nothing yet. I'm waiting for something to hit me."
Joxer nodded, and proceeded to pull off his armour. "You'll think of something."
"Joxer, what are you doing?" asked Gabrielle, looking him up and down as he struggled to pull off his chest plate.
"Xena's gonna teach me some stuff before she goes on reconnaissance," he said eagerly. "She told me to take my armour off for some reason."
"Maybe it has something to do with the fact that it's more a hindrance than a help?" she suggested, smirking a little.
"Poke fun all you like," said Joxer. "It's saved my life more than once."
"I'm sure it has."
Joxer sighed, rolling his eyes. "I know I look ridiculous," he said, uncharacteristically serious for a moment. "I had no money when I left home, so I couldn't afford great armour like Xena's. And I'm not a good fighter - I know that. I have to wear something, or I'd be dead that much faster."
Gabrielle lifted her brows. "Did it ever cross your mind to *not* try to be a hero? I mean, you're not exactly suited-"
"Well you were just a farm girl, weren't you?" Joxer said, eyes gleaming. "You got good, why can't I?"
She shook her head, not having an answer to that. He went on.
"My Dad and my brother... they got along really well. They used to do things together, you know. Abuse the village idiot, raid small towns near ours - you name it." He frowned, suddenly, looking down at his helmet in his lap. He tapped it nervously. "They'd come back and tease me... for not joining in. Thing is - I did try to, once." He sighed. "I remember the people being so frightened. I just couldn't get any joy out of it, you know? That's the day when I stopped wanting to be a warlord like my Dad. S-" He rubbed his face, looking guilty somehow. "It's also the day Dad decided he needed to be 'cruel to be kind'. He-" Joxer shook his head. "Doesn't matter."
Her heart dropped like a lead weight in her chest as she realised what Joxer meant.
"Anyway. I soon realised that there were people out there, helpless like I was, and people out there, sadistic and cruel as my Pa ever was. So as soon as I was able, I left home and..." He nodded, looking across the lake. "I just wanted to help. Help people. I mean, sure, it all started out, me runnin' away from who I was. I know I can be an idiot."
"Joxer..."
"I met you and Xena, though, and you guys really showed me, you know? That there's more to all 'a' this than looking good, being famous, all that stuff. It's more than what people think of you. It's," he shrugged, "-it's giving of yourself, so others can be happy." He ducked his head down, slapping his helmet tiredly. "Well. I better get to it." He stood up.
"Joxer." He looked down to her. "You're right. I guess I worry that one day, you... you won't just give something of yourself. You'll give all you have to give."
He shrugged. "As long as I help someone. Even a little."
With that, he trudged over to Xena. Gabrielle watched him a long moment, as Xena began to explain something to him by the lake. She'd never heard Joxer talk like that before. She knew it was no show of bravado, and it took trust for him to confide in her about his childhood. She winced, pity and sadness welling in her chest for him. The strength of it surprised her, and she felt immediately guilty for all the teasing slaps and smacks she'd given him over the years. She watched him as he listened to Xena intently. She was so very afraid for him. He was walking headlong into challenges she knew he might not walk out of. Why did the good men always do that? Why did they have to have such precarious existences? As much as Joxer also feared these things, (and she knew he did, for she'd seen him tremble in the face of danger more than once), he was still ready to lay everything down for the good of others. A dawning feeling spread through her as she finally realised the heroic side of someone she had known for years, finally looked at it for what it was, without any doubt or possibility of dismissing it as something else.
Pulling her scroll close to her, she smiled to herself, hands shaking as she tapped the tip of her quill to her tongue.
~~*~~
Xena watched him walk over and tug at his vest nervously. A kind smile spread across her lips but Joxer didn't seem to be any calmer for the expression. It was hard to believe one of the greatest warriors in Greece, if not the known world, had agreed to teach HIM to fight. He'd spent years pretending he wasn't anything less than Xena and Gabrielle as far as fighting went, but it came to the point where he couldn't pretend anymore.
They'd been through some very hard times. They'd encountered new, evil Gods, they'd faced death and new life. Things kept happening, awful and frightening things that told him that from here on, life would be different, and that it would go on being different. All of them were changed from the people they'd been years ago. He never could have imagined that the feisty little girl in the alley would grow to be the fiery warrior woman he knew now.
Xena and Gabrielle weren't slowing down and their lives weren't changing. He wanted to keep up with them, and he knew he'd have to understand fighting if that were to happen.
"Let's start on your posture," Xena said, voice business-like. "Stand up straight, Joxer. You want to start with a good balance."
He nodded, squaring his shoulders. "Sure."
"Good. Now, I'm gonna teach you some simple stuff. Don't groan - it's important you know it."
Joxer nodded, not feeling like groaning at all.
"Falling over," she said, simply.
"What about it?" he asked with a frown.
"You need to learn how to do it."
He laughed, shaking his head. "Xena, I know how to fall over. Man! I'm an expert!"
"Oh really?"
He gave a nod.
Xena nodded too. "Okay then. Think quick!"
He didn't even have time to ask her what she was talking about. Xena shoved him roughly and he toppled, his feet ending up in the air. He struggled on his back, muscles hurting, wondering what the hell had happened when a cold, sharp something pressed against his throat. He grew still.
"Woah... Xena..."
She looked at him down the shaft of her sword, lifting a brow. "You're dead, Joxer." Lifting the sword, she offered him a hand. "Yeah, you can fall over, but you're awful at getting back up again."
It dawned on Joxer what she was trying to show him. His cheeks grew red as he dusted himself off. "That's always been a tricky one for me."
"I'll help you get the hang of it. Now I want you to push me over."
He blinked at her. "You... you what?"
She sighed. "I want you to push me over. Don't make me ask you twice."
"O-okay." He took his bottom lip in his teeth, eyeing Xena's shoulders nervously. Stepping forward, he shoved her, hard as he could. She fell back, but her bottom barely touched the floor. She curled and rolled, ending up on her feet again. Her leg struck out and one of her feet hooked around his ankle, pulling at it swiftly. He tumbled over, yet again, his bottom getting another bruising. He couldn't say much, only groan. Xena offered him her hand again, and he took it, letting her pull him to his feet.
"You see what I did?" she asked him. He nodded. "That's what I'm going to teach you to do first. To roll on your butt instead of landing in a heap." Her blue eyes glinted at him and he could see the dedication there. She was serious about teaching him this stuff. It warmed him inside, and any feelings of embarrassment he might have had about what they were doing left him right then and there. Joxer nodded, waiting for Xena's word to begin.
~~*~~
Gabrielle peered at the empty scroll in front of her, her fingers twitching with energy. She had the itch, the deep, delicious tickle of inspiration. She just needed the Muses to strike, to find that spark of something that would make the energy into something real, into beautiful words. Her mind trawled through her memories, through all that she could possibly write about. Frustration mounted as she kept finding herself grasping at nothing after thinking she'd hit upon something inspiring. It was like trying to catch fish with your hands. Again and again you'd pull your hands away, water slipping through your fingers. She didn't really feel ready to tackle the scroll about her last adventure with Xena, she felt like doing something new. The Muses were very particular today.
She glanced up to Xena and Joxer, still wracking her brain. She stopped, watching them for a moment, intrigued. They were pushing at each other. Perhaps there'd be an opportunity for humour here. It'd be very funny, writing about Joxer falling on his arse. The Gods knew it worked for her scrolls before. She focused on Joxer, watching his movements, his expressions.
He was listening to Xena talk, and he nodded at her, waving his hands up and looking self-deprecating. There was something almost attractive about the movement, and Gabrielle had to glance about, just to check if perhaps Aphrodite was around, because he didn't look like a total idiot. His hair was mussed from the tumbles, and he looked healthy. There was a handsome blush in his high-boned cheeks. Tilting her head, she narrowed her eyes at him. Xena pushed at him, and he tumbled back, but he didn't fall in a heap, not immediately. His body curved, and he went with the fall, rolling away. He very nearly made it to his feet again, except he didn't quite manage the roll. His legs splayed and he fell on his bottom. Xena chuckled, shaking her head. With frustration, Joxer punched the sand, shaking his head before pulling himself up to his feet. Xena seemed to console him, and he threw his head back, shoulders pushed down in a moment of vexation. He really did have quite a nice neck. She also couldn't help notice his hands as he dusted sand off his vest. They were strong, square, even though he generally looked weedy in his regular outfit. In fact... overall, as he was now, he looked ... nice... nice wasn't the word. It was more than nice. He wasn't a God by any measure. He wasn't even a great, strong man, not to look at. Perhaps it was the eyes, his kind, gentle eyes. Something about him, at that moment, made him look truly beautiful. And how could he? With his funny nose and his rubbery lips, and hair that liked to stick out at silly angles? Whether she wanted it to or not, her heart warmed in her chest, it shuddered a little, and all because of Joxer.
She laughed at herself, trying madly to ignore the rush of heat in her cheeks. It was just the change making her think strange things, just him being different. He'd open his mouth and say something stupid again, very soon, and it'd all be back to normal, it really would. Her fingers that gripped the quill itched, and they moved on the parchment beneath them. The words they wrote were barely from her own mind, yet they called to her, poked her soul. They demanded to be answered.
What is a hero?
Joxer's words to her before bubbled in her thoughts. They challenged the neatly, carefully built image of the silly man she'd known all these years. They recalled all the moments she'd pushed away and ignored, all for her own sanity. All the times he did stupid things for her. All the times he looked at her with those damned eyes and showed her his very soul. Amongst all that, even his ridiculous behaviour seemed to fit, to have its place.
'I'm going mad,' she thought, 'That's it. I'm going mad. The Muses want me mad.'
Perhaps she could write something else? She pushed her mind to that and all she got was walls. Nothing. Her soul wouldn't go there. Her heart wanted to pour itself out onto the scroll. It wanted to make homage to the tumbling fool at the edge of Lake Hyrmine.
She blew a sigh through her lips, hanging her head back and looking up into the sky. "I'm not writing this," she said. "You are... Apollo or ... whatever Muse is poking me in the ass to write this damned thing. Your fault! I'll write it as long as we agree on that, okay?"
Putting her head down again, she let her quill fly. It was frightening how easy this came, how much her heart sang as she wrote. She was utterly engrossed, totally entranced. It would be a marvellous poem, probably the best she'd written yet.
There was a creaking sound of leather on the log next to her. She paid it no mind, nor the fine musky perfume that filled her nostrils.
"That's a lot of questions to put in a first stansa..."
"Shut up," growled Gabrielle, trying hard to keep her mind on the poem, a flourish of deep anger ruining her flow. "Like you know how to write a--" She blinked, catching the name that was ready to fall from her mouth. She looked up.
Ares was sitting next to her, arm propped up on his knee, face close as he was leaning in to look over her shoulder. She shuddered, crawling back along the log. He sat back, cool, calm, brow lifting in amusement.
"I've been around a while. I know a thing or two about knocking together a few words. Helps to rouse the troops." He punched his fists playfully in the air a moment.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, pulling her scroll to her chest.
He tilted his head at her, regarding her. "Assessing the present situation." Leaning forward, he reached a hand toward her scroll. "May I?"
A bemused look crawled across her face. "You want to read my poem?"
He curled his lip, lifting a nostril with it. "Why not?"
Slowly, she handed the scroll to Ares, looking at him as if he was losing his faculties. He took it, eyes going over the words. Suppressed giggles curled the corner of his lips, and he looked up at Xena and Joxer, who were currently tussling in the dirt.
"This is about him, isn't it?"
"Yes! So?" Gabrielle growled, grabbing for her scroll. "Like you'd understand anything but hate or anger!"
Ares chuckled, pulling the scroll away from her, reading out the poem in a quivering high tone, like a tragic Greek actor. "What is a hero? Is it a lack of fear, of hate, of weakness?"
"Damn it! Give it to me!"
Ares sniggered as Gabrielle crawled across his huge chest, reaching for the scroll he dangled in the air enticingly. "You've got a crush on the dork!"
"I do NOT!" She kneed him in the gut and reached for the scroll. The action was ineffectual and only caused the God more amusement.
A throat cleared.
Gabrielle glanced up, stretched across Ares' frame, her fingers reaching for her scroll. Humiliation and embarrassment swept through the bard as she saw Xena and Joxer standing before them, stony looks on their faces. The dark warrior woman curled a lip, lithe arms folded, the anger in her eyes directed solely at Ares.
"What are you doing?"
Ares handed Gabrielle the scroll, looking rather discomfitted. Judging by his expression, this wasn't supposed to happen. He moved smoothly to his feet, moving towards Xena, who stepped backwards, hand moving to her hilt.
"No, no, I'm not here for that."
Neither Ares or Xena noticed Joxer move between the War God and the bard, as their eyes and attentions were locked solely on the other.
"That'd be a first," said Xena coolly, pulling out her sword anyway.
Ares blinked, sighing with frustration and putting his hands on his hips. His eyes lingered on the blade that she brandished, a flicker of temptation dancing in them. The fingers closest to the hilt of his sword twitched, and Xena watched all this keenly.
"What do you want?" she asked him.
Ares wrung his lips with his fingers, eyeing the blade and seeming totally lost for words. He opened his mouth, pointing at Xena, then suddenly stopped. Looking into the air next to him, he frowned.
"I'm... I'm TRYING to..." It was hard to believe, but red tinged the God's cheeks. "You've just - you've ruined it now!"
Xena, Gabrielle and Joxer stared at Ares, faces blank with confusion. The red in Ares' cheeks grew deeper as he took in their expressions.
"Damn it! Just forget it!"
With that, he disappeared in a burst of blue fire and stars. Silence blanketed the camp, stretching out for what seemed like forever as the three of them stared at the space where the War God had been only moments before. It was Gabrielle that spoke first.
"Did that just happen?"
Sheathing her sword, Xena shook her head, walking towards Argo. "I don't like this at all."
Joxer frowned, staring at where Ares disappeared. It was an oddly thoughtful expression, one that neither Gabrielle or Xena would have been used to seeing on his usually goofy face. Gabrielle questioned it with a furrow of her brows. He shrugged back at her.
"It just... it seems a little wierd... this happening when Xena's on the trail of this Mallecium guy."
"I was thinking the exact same thing," murmured Xena darkly, looking about the camp, visibly rankled by the Godly intrusion.
"What was he so interested in on that scroll anyway?" asked Joxer, turning to Gabrielle and pointing to her scroll.
"Nothing!" she said briskly, rolling it up. "Just another poem about Xena."
He nodded, a little dubiously, then looked to Xena. "Are you okay?"
It was clear that Xena was far from okay. She often didn't take visitations from the God of War well. He was one of the only people that could ruffle her cool countenance, leave her shaken, leave her altered in some way she could never quite identify.
~~*~~
He stormed through his realm, the light shuddering low in his anger, throwing aside anything that was unfortunate enough to be in his path. Lips tense, nostrils flaring, a great roar came from his throat. He could remember Xena's face, remember the look in her eyes. She thought he was an idiot, a freaking idiot! Weakness was something he couldn't abide, he couldn't stand it, not in others and not in himself. Rage rocketed through his soul, shaking him up, making his blood boil. Every time he remembered Xena's expression when he'd stuffed up any chance of a nonchalant greeting, his anger would rise and it fed upon itself like a terrible tornado. He kicked over a plinth, then punted it across the room, enjoying the crunching noise it made.
"You just HAD to pop up and screw me over, didn't you?" he shouted into thin air, smashing a vase that had the audacity to be sitting there unbroken.
Artemis burst from the aether in a rain of gold, rolling her eyes at her brother before storming to an untouched divan. "What DO you call that sort of behaviour back there, Ares?"
"I call it YOU cramping my style!" he growled, pointing a shaking finger at her.
A cold, derisive chuckle fell from Artemis, the sound like breaking crystal. "Brother, there was no style for me to cramp."
He threw a look that was not merely burning with anger. It was an entire vat of Greek fire and the spark that set it off. Artemis barely noticed. She helped herself to the wine that Ares hadn't managed to tip up with rage, shaking her head.
"My, my," she sighed. "Seems you're going to need more help than I expected."
"I don't want your help," he seethed, pacing before a display rack of frightening looking weapons, eyeing them hungrily.
"That's a shame, because you really need it."
Her voice was cold, and it made Ares' skin prickle. He turned on her, narrowing his eyes.
"Why the hell do you care? Seriously? You never gave a crap about me before now, and suddenly you're the caring sister?" He shook his head, rolling his tongue about in his mouth. "Nup, don't buy it, Art."
Standing, she gave a scoffing laugh. "I tried to break it you gently, brother, but obviously you're too painfully slow to take a hint." He cocked a brow in fierce askance. "Father has had enough."
"He sent you to me?"
She didn't say anything, just pursed her lips and looked at him pointedly.
His stomach dropped in his chest, and he gulped, looking wounded. Zeus never meddled with his personal affairs... He'd always taken it as a sign of his father's confidence in him. If he really had sent her... to sort him out... like he *needed* sorting out.
Ares was angry before. He'd hit white-hot rage now, the sort that sent him into the sort of terrifying madness that frightened mortals and made myths happen. "Well fine!" Ares roared. "Dad can come to me HIMSELF if he's got a damned problem. I'm not having you poking me in the back, tellin' me how to pick up chicks like I'm some teenaged idiot!"
Artemis snorted. "A teenager would probably have more success at a real relationship than you. All YOU know how to do is to take what you want and destroy it!"
The muscles in Ares' arms rippled as he threw them up, waving his fists at her. "I'm a WAR God! It's what I DO!" He snorted, looking at her like dirt. "And you'll pardon me if I don't take the advice of a self-confessed eternal VIRGIN to heart! At least I know what it is to enjoy someone else's body!"
This seemed to cut Artemis to the quick. No one mocked her sacred purity and lived to tell the tale. She fairly shook as she stormed at him, clenching her fists.
"Yes, you enjoy it and you LEAVE it! Ravage it and walk away, just like you do with everything in your life! You only come back to this mortal because you can't HAVE her! You'll NEVER have her! She's a conquest you've never won! I saw her spark when she was born! Not even I could control her, as much as I wanted to! Keep chasing her, you stupid, blustering fool! You will NEVER know love from her! You'll never possess her! You'll chase her like my stupid twin brother chased my darling Daphne, not stopping till you've destroyed her!" Tears made Artemis' eyes look as though they were afire. "You don't deserve her, Ares. You don't even deserve your mantle!"
Ares' eyes widened, his hand dropping to the hand of his sword, eyebrow cocking. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me. I'd like to see you actually DO something for humanity instead of smiting them at every chance you had!" She spat at the ground. "Waste of energy! Waste of aether! Waste of our good Father's seed!"
"You go too far," he growled.
"No, brother," she snarled. "I am the only one that will go far enough."
With that, she disappeared in a rain of shivering gold sparkles. The object of his rage was gone, and he felt a storm of ugly blackness ready to reap itself upon something. Gripping his sword, he too threw himself into the aether.
~~*~~