Anxious felt like a man standing in the middle of Caesar's arena. That was the only way he could describe it. The only thing he could think of that even came close to the anxiety he was feeling. He had known it was a risky move; waltzing into the Gaul's village, after what his people had done to them. But it was the only way he could think of that might give this whole fiasco a happy ending. It had to be done. The Gauls would help...if they didn't kill him first. Oh, they hadn't hurt him...yet. In fact, they were a little more receptive toward him then he had expected, considering the situation.

Fullautomatix, the blacksmith who had met him on the beach, had approached him with nervous tension. And Anxious couldn't blame him. Even if the Roman knew that he would never hurt them; could never hurt them; he had to remember that the Gauls knew nothing about him. He was a stranger. An enemy. And in order to gain their help, he'd first have to gain their trust.

The blacksmith brought him into the village, where a crowd soon gathered. At first, they congratulated Fullautomatix, thinking the man had captured an 'enemy spy'. When the blacksmith explained that the Roman had simply swam up onto the shore, their triumph turned to puzzlement. Then anger. In fact, Anxious still wasn't quite sure what might have happened if a tall, bearded man, clothed in white, had not stepped in on his behalf.

"What is your name, Roman?" he asked, and Anxious suddenly realized he was being addressed by none other then the village druid himself. He was surprise to see just how old he looked. For some reason, Anxious had expected someone a little younger. More sinister; like the seers back in Rome. This man was wizened; fatherly. Calm and collected, even when everything around him was crumbling.

"Anxious, Sir."

The old man nodded, a look somewhere between curiosity and uneasiness shifting across his features. He was obviously trying to decide what to do about their newcomer. He didn't look like the type to hold a grudge, no matter the offence, but even druids could get angry. What Anxious's people had done to the Gauls was, in many people's eyes, unforgivable. Whether the druid was one of those people, Anxious didn't know. He hoped not. "And why have you come to us?"

Good. The druid knew he had come willingly. "I came to help you."

That statement was met by multiple whoops and jeers from the crowd. They didn't believe him, just as Anxious had suspected they wouldn't. It had been a wild idea really. Why would his enemies; no, his victims, believe a single word he said? It was ridiculous. He saw that now.

"What do you mean?" the druid asked, an eyebrow raising slightly. Anxious found himself surprised at the sincere interest in the man's voice.

"I'm a friend of Panacea. I want to help save her, as well as get rid of Commander Spacious."

"It's another trap!" someone cried. The shout was soon joined by many others.

"They're trying to finish us off early!"

"He's a liar!"

"We're all going to die!"

A stout man in a green tunic and blue and black striped pants, who Anxious recognized as the village chief, leaned toward the druid. Confliction was evident on his face, but Anxious detected a hidden anger deep within the man, just as strong as the other villager's. "What should we do with him, Getafix?" he asked, clearly uncertain of what to do with such a evil, wayward villain.

"Vitalstitistix," the druid, Getafix, replied sadly, "I really don't know."

"Throw him back out to his brethren!"

"Yeah, let them have their nasty, old spy back!"

"They can't trick us again! Not after what happened to Asterix!"

Anxious's heart did a flip-flop. If the Gauls turned him out the front gate, Spacious would know what he had done. That he knew about the letter. That the evil Commander's illegal acts were no longer a secret. He'd be thrown out of the army! Heck, he'd be killed! Spacious wouldn't give him the chance to plead his case! He'd be dead before he even opened his mouth!

"WAIT!"

The villagers grew quiet at his panicked cry. Anxious had nothing to lose...No, everything to lose. He had to convince them. He had to! Not just to save his own life, but Panacea's as well.

"Please, listen to me," he pleaded. "I know this looks bad; I know I have no right to be trying to help you, but I assure you I am! What my Commander is doing is wrong! I never wanted to be a part of it, but I had no choice! But, please, you must believe me! I want to help! I can't do this any more! Spacious is a madman; he'll stop at nothing until you're all dead! No matter what you do tomorrow, he'll kill every last one of you!" He looked into their frightened eyes, trying to convey his sincereness in his own. "Please." His voice was quieter now. "I don't want Panacea to die."

There was a stunned silence. Fear and distrust still showed in the villager's faces. They were afraid to trust him. Could he really blame them?

"How...how do we know you're not lying?" a woman dressed in pink and standing beside the Vitalstitistix asked. Her face almost looked like she wanted to believe him. Like all she needed was the proof. That same look was reflected in all their expressions.

Anxious racked his brains, trying to think of something; anything, that might allay their fears. He thought back to his conversations with Panacea. How they had talked about their friends...their family... "Panacea told me she was married," he said suddenly. He thought hard, trying to remember the man's name. "To...to Trixicomic...no, no. that wasn't it..."

"Tragicomix?" It was an older Gaul who spoke up this time, dressed in blue and leaning heavily on a T- shaped stick. A hopeful lift in the old fellow's voice encouraged Anxious to continue.

"Yes! Yes, that was it! He's in Condatum. And Panacea said her father lives here, though she didn't tell me his name." He gave them a nervous smile, waiting to see their reaction. He was hoping that information would be enough to convince them of his honesty.

"But you might have...gotten that information out of her," Fullautomatix said, hesitantly. "...by force."

That was true. As much as Anxious hated to admit it, Romans were known for their less then pleasant ways of getting information. They could have tortured the girl for all the villagers knew. The thought distressed Anxious terribly, but he wasn't the only one. The Gauls seemed to grow angry again, just at the thought of such a horrendous idea, and they stepped toward him menacingly.

"Wait! Wait, please!" Anxious thought harder. There had to be something! Something that would prove he was telling the truth. "Her mother! Something happened to her mother! When I asked her whether her mother lived here in the village she became very sad. I could tell something bad must have happened. When I told her I was sorry she told me that it was alright; that it wasn't my fault."

Stunned silence again. Longer this time. The Gauls seemed truly startled. Anxious shifted nervously from one foot to the other, wondering if he had said something wrong. It wouldn't take much; Anxious had never been very good at communicating with others. A misunderstanding was likely; an accidental insult, even more so. The Roman soldier opened his mouth to add, what he hoped, was an apology for whatever he had said, when one of the villagers stepped out from the crowd.

He wasn't a tall man, seeming average height among his fellow Gauls. In fact, if he hadn't come forward, Anxious never would have noticed him at all. He was a perfectly normal Gaul. But as Anxious looked at him, he began to have a strange feeling deep inside. As if something important resided in those tired, red-rimmed eyes. Something he recognized...And then it hit him.

"You're...You're Panacea's father."

Soporifix nodded, and there was actually a hint of a smile on his face. "Yes." Anxious began to grow even more nervous. A wrathful father was not something he wanted to deal with right now.

"Ah, Sir," the Roman pleaded, "Please...you must believe me...I'am telling the truth..."

"I know you are."

Vitalstitistix's jaw dropped. "What?! Soporifix...are you sure you can trust this-"

"Yes." The fatherly Gaul's voice was certain; final. There wasn't a doubt in it at all. He kept his gaze steady, looking right into Anxious's eyes. "My wife died, many years ago. Panacea was a very little girl when it happened. My wife went out into the forest one morning...to gather some roots and berries for our family...She...when we found her..." The older Gaul's face was the very essence of grief. It broke the Roman's heart at how Soporifix struggled to tell him the tale; tale that Anxious felt he was unworthy to hear. Why would Soporifix give him this information? It was so personal. The other Gauls seemed to share the Roman's feelings.

"Ah, Soporifix..." Vitalstitistix muttered softly, but the emotional father put up a hand, regaining his composure before continuing.

"She had been ill for some time. I just never realized how...how sick she really was..." His eyes filled with pain. "Sometimes I forget how much Panacea looks like her mother." He looked back up into Anxious's face. "My daughter would never speak of her mother to an enemy; no matter what was done to her. She loved Camellia very much...and she took her death very hard. My daughter would never have spoken of her mother to you unless she trusted you." Soporifix held out his hand. "Any friend of my daughter is a friend of mine."

Anxious felt an immense wave of relief sweep over him. Returning the Gaul's smile, he shook Soporifix's hand in friendship. The other villagers relaxed visibly. Apparently their friend's words had been enough to convince them. And, at the moment, that was the best thing Anxious could ask for. He almost laughed with a mixture of joy and extrication...but then he remembered that time was of the essence. Anxious quickly turned back to the assembly.

"Spacious is attacking you against Caesar's orders."

"What?" Vitalstitistix looked overwhelmed. One minute the stranger was an intruder, the next he was a friend. One minute the whole Roman Empire was after their necks, and the next only one loony Commander and his faithful troop. It was confusing. Everything was moving too fast. Luckily, Getafix was a little more up to speed.

"How do you know this?" the druid asked, stepping forward and laying a gentle hand on the Roman's shoulder. He actually looked concerned. At first, Anxious thought it was because of the news he had brought, but looking into the bearded man's face it suddenly dawned on him that that wasn't the case. Getafix was concerned not only for the Gauls...he was concerned for him.

"I found a letter in his tent. It was from Caesar, demanding that Commander Spacious not attack or in any way harm you."

"Why?" Unhygenix piped up. "Why would Julius give up the chance to defeat us?"

Anxious shook his head, still unsure about that detail himself. "It seems he felt obligated to give you all a sort of temporary truce." He shrugged, expecting the Gauls to find that notion absurd. He was greatly surprised when they accepted the explanation without a problem.

"Yes, we have gotten him out of a bind now and again," Getafix said slowly, thinking back to adventures past. "But that means that Caesar knows nothing about what's been happening here the last week. Which means we're in bigger trouble than we thought. Having no one to answer too, Spacious will not hold back. And he hasn't been. His soldiers, no doubt, don't know they're working for a traitor; neither are they likely to believe us if we told them." He turned back to Anxious. "I take it you have a plan in mind?"

If the Roman was honest with himself, he didn't have anything other than a wispy shadow of an idea for a plan. But it was the only thing he could come with; the only thing left to try. And they were out of time. If anything was to be done, it had to be done; and soon.

He looked out into the wide-eyed expressions of the villagers. Anxious didn't know any of them. All he knew about them really was what Panacea had told him. But, somehow, through her words he had gained a sense of affection for these people. And now, those same people were looking to him for guidance. Him! A man too shaky and nervous to ever become much of anyone. Ever. But...of course, his character had never been counted on to deliver the lives of an entire village before. He needed to go through with this. He could never stand the guilt of never having tried. And if that meant meeting the same end as the Gauls...then so be it.

"Yes, Sir, I have a plan. But I'm going to need your help to get it done."

Getafix nodded. "We'll go to my hut and discuss it. Follow me and hurry." And with that, the druid began leading the way through the village to his home.

...

"Obelix! Stand down! Let him go!" Getafix shouted, truly stunned by the large Gaul's unexpected reaction. It took the druid completely by surprise, and, to tell the truth, frightened him. Obelix was perhaps the most friendly, most docile Gaul in the whole village. He was thoughtful, and pleasant, even if he wasn't all that smart. What he lacked in brains he made up for in heart. Or so it usually was...but at the moment, Obelix was truly terrifying.

They had just entered Getafix's hut, with Anxious following behind them. All seemed to be as it was when Getafix had left it an hour ago. The sun was shining through the windows, lighting up the room in a pleasant orange glow, warming it with the rays of the rising sun. Cacofonix and Asterix, now both fully awake, were conversing with Obelix, who was exactly where Getafix had last seen him; sitting on a bench beside Asterix's cot. The only difference he could see was that, sometime during the morning, Picanmix had joined the group.

Obelix had looked up, hearing them enter, smiling as he laughed at something his companions had said. But when he spotted Anxious, dressed in Roman armor, stepping across the threshold, his expression changed from cheerful relief to frightened enragement. The transformation was startling, to say the least...but not nearly as startling as what happened next.

Obelix launched himself from the bench, effectively cutting the conversation he had been having only a moment before. The biggest Gaul could move surprisingly fast when need be, and this was no exception. Before anyone could do anything, in three swift strides, Obelix had Anxious pinned up against the wall.

"Let him down, Obelix!"

Anxious had never been so scared in his life. The brute force behind the Gaul's action held him, pressed against the hut. His feet weren't even touching the floor. He didn't notice the other Gauls trying to pull Obelix's hands off of the front of his tunic, and he didn't even see the way his own hands clutched the great, hulking mitts of his aggressor, shaking in fear. All he saw was the pure wrath that sparked in the angry eyes, only a few inches from his own.

Obelix tried to fight it. Tried to hold back the intense rage that coursed through him. But the sight of one of those...those monsters, who had caused all this suffering...Who had captured Panacea. Been willing to kill a little boy. Shoot Asterix. That was more then his emotions could take. Red seemed to cloud his vision, tinting the world in a crimson haze. His skin felt hot and fevered, just like it had when he had saved Asterix from outside the gate. Every muscle, every fiber of his being ached and hummed with an energy he didn't understand. It wasn't anything like the thrill that he had whenever they pummeled the Romans. And it wasn't the elated feeling he used to have whenever Panacea so much as looked at him, before she was married. This was nothing like those feelings. This was a throbbing, painful anger. Fury. The frightened face in front of him, the body scared stiff in his grip, had no effect on the big Gaul whatsoever.

Fullautomatix, Unhygenix, Vitalstitistix, and the other main members that formed the village's council, tried in vain to pull Obelix away from their guest. The large Gaul was as immovable as an oak, maybe even more so. Their attempts to break his hold didn't budge him a bit. They couldn't even get his attention. The strength with which Obelix was clutching the Roman was frightful. It was a wonder the Roman wasn't crying out from the sharp pressure against his chest, pushing him mercilessly into the woodwork. His armor was all that was saving him, or, at least, slowing Obelix down.

Fullautomatix couldn't help thinking back to the cart Obelix had crushed with a single blow out by the gate. How it had splintered to a pile of kindle, beyond repair. The thought made him double his efforts to restrain his friend.

"STOP!"

The shout came from behind them. It was a frightened yell. No, more like a scream. Laced with a barely hidden pain, it shattered through all the other noise; all the confusion. That voice finally broke through the big Gaul's anger. Obelix blinked, turning to look behind him, still holding Anxious against the wall.

Asterix stood in the center of the room, looking terribly shaken. His face was even paler then when he had first been shot. His hands were clenched at his sides and he swayed, wincing as he felt the room spin dizzily. Eyes wide and fixed on his friend, the hurt was more than obvious.

Asterix had watched in shock as his best friend crushed the Roman against the side of Getafix's hut. The action had been totally unexpected. Nothing the blond Gaul had ever seen in his friend came remotely close to this display of inconsolable wrath. And it scared Asterix to death. He scrambled out from beneath the covers, shakily stumbling to his feet, trying to suppress the pain the motion inflicted. Asterix knew Obelix. Knew him better than anyone. And this was not how Obelix usually acted. Something was wrong. Horribly wrong.

"Obelix...Obelix, please...put him down..."

Obelix felt the red haze start to dissipate. It cleared away, and he saw Asterix out of bed, bare-footed and shivering, though not from cold. Asterix was afraid. Afraid of him. That hurt more than anything the biggest Gaul had ever felt. Worse then seeing Asterix shot. Worse than being shot himself. Because it was he who was causing the hurt.

Turning, Obelix looked into the terrified eyes of the man he had pinned against the wall. He could feel the Roman's heart beating wildly against his fists, intertwined in the material of Anxious's front. The Roman was afraid of him too. Glancing down at the faces of the other Gauls, who still held onto him, paused in their attempt to move him away. Picanmix, Dogmatix clutched in his arms, stared from behind the safety of a bench; frightened. Cacofonix, sitting on the edge of his cot, was visibly shaking, griping the bed sheets beneath him. Their faces all showed an unmistakable emotion; fear...They were all afraid of him.

Obelix slowly lowered his arms, carefully setting the Roman's feet back onto the firm floor and backed away. He could feel his anger waning, disappearing into a terrible guilt. A terrible revulsion at what had just happened; how he had lost control.

What had he almost done...?

...

YIKES! This was hard to write for some reason! I guess it's because Obelix isn't usually so emotional, especially when it comes to such intense anger. Obelix is such a sweet, lighthearted fellow in the comics, and it's hard to imagine him ever being like this. But of course, he's never had to face the stress or fear or anger he's been under in my story.

I'm known, at least told by others, that I am a very friendly person. People say that they could never imagine me ever getting mad; just like we often think of Obelix. But i remember a time, when i was going through a very hard, and stressful time, where i completely broke down. I was so angry, at myself and everything around me, that I very nearly did something I would have regretted terribly.

So I know what stress, fear, and anger can do to someone. But we bounce back. Just as Obelix will.