The Chronicles of Gabrielle

The Chronicles of Gabrielle:

“The Heart of a Warrior”

Heart of a Warrior Trilogy Book One

My Disclaimer:

Xena, created by Rob Tapert and John Schulian, and all of its characters are the sole property of Renaissance Pictures. This piece of fanfiction is not intended to infringe upon the rights of the studio or any of its benefactors in any way. No copyrights or trademarks were harmed during the production of this story. I write about Xena and Gabby because I love them, and I want to share my imagination with the rest of the Xenaverse.

Jarra and Ezra, and any other characters not previously mentioned on Xena, are original characters created by me.

This story is dedicated to Kevin Smith, our beloved Ares.

We love you Kevin. We’ll never forget you.

PART 1: BURIAL

It was good to be home. But somehow it wasn’t the same. The colors weren’t as bright, the air not as sweet as she remembered. Had things really changed? Maybe it was just her. The way she felt right now, things would never be the same again.

Gabrielle slung her pack over her shoulder and walked down the dock onto dry land. How many times had she and Xena gone in and out of this very same port? Walked down that very same dock? Too many times for Gabrielle to count. Suddenly, Xena wasn’t there anymore. Gabrielle was alone.

The bard had had a lot of time to think on the voyage home from Japan. Bard- Could she really think of herself that way anymore? That was one of many questions that crossed her mind over those long days at sea. It was hard to think of herself of a bard anymore. She hadn’t written a single word since finishing the tale of Xena’s last stand. The words just wouldn’t come. “Battling Bard of Poteidia”- a title she’d heard people call her by. That was a bit more accurate. The battling part, anyway. Gabrielle felt more like a warrior these days than anything else. She had come so far from the naive village girl she once was. When she pictured herself back then, before Xena came to her small village to save them from the warlord Draco, it was almost like looking at a complete stranger.

There had been other questions, too. Like, why wasn’t she grieving as much as she thought she should be?

Even in death, Gabrielle, I will never leave you...

Those words that Xena had uttered-Gabrielle had been hearing them in her head over and over again. The words-they had turned out to be absolutely true, if not exactly in the way that she wanted. In the days following her friend’s death, Gabrielle had been able to see and hear Xena as though she still lived. She still could sometimes. Maybe that was what was making things easier. Even when Xena didn’t appear to her, Gabrielle felt her spirit stronger than ever, right by her side, a guiding light in otherwise dark days. Maybe that was why she didn’t feel so lost, because for her, Xena wasn’t really dead. Still, it wasn’t the same, and the knowledge of that fact weighed heavily upon her.

Another question: what was it going to be like being on her own? All her life someone had been there- her mother, father, and sister Lila, while she was growing up, and Xena after that. It was certainly different. And lonely. She wasn’t sure if she would ever get used to it.

Where would she go now? She had decided on Egypt, the land of the pharaohs. Xena had talked about going there before they were called away to Japan. It was as good a place as any, and there really wasn’t anything keeping her here, with the exception of one last thing. It was the only reason she had come to Greece at all.

The sky had clouded over as her ship was coming into the port, and a light drizzle was now starting to fall as Gabrielle made her way down the small port town’s main thoroughfare, heading for the inn. She pulled her coat more tightly around her. Winter was definitely coming. Gabrielle had just barely made it onto one of the last ships to set sail here before the winter storms made travel by sea too dangerous. The cloud-darkened sky gave everything a dismal gray cast, only adding to her increasing melancholy.

Gabrielle was painfully aware of her best friend’s absence right then.

It came to her suddenly, just has it had all through her journey here, a feeling of love and warmth so strong it was beyond description spreading all through her being. Xena. The presence was unmistakable. Her friend’s spirit was touching her at that very moment, and it was like basking in the warmth of the most beautiful summer day, sun shinning down upon her.

You are never alone, Gabrielle, Xena’s voice gently whispered in her mind.

Just as suddenly as the feeling had come it was gone. A small smile touched Gabrielle’s face. It was nice to know that her friend was watching over her. It made things easier.

Coming toward Gabrielle from the opposite end of the street was a woman leading a black horse. She wore black boots, skin tight black leather pants, and black hardened leather torso armor over a black leather vest. A flowing full-length black leather coat completed the ensemble. Her reddish-brown hair came down just past her shoulders, an Amazon warrior braid woven on one side. Rich brown eyes looked idly around her as she walked, until they focused on Gabrielle. Recognition flashed across her features. Smiling broadly and waving she called, “Hey Gabby! You’re back!”

With a smile that she didn’t really feel, Gabrielle waved back. “Hi, Jarra!”

Gabrielle had recognized her immediately. The woman, Jarra, was a dear friend of she and Xena both. It struck Gabrielle then, as Jarra walked toward her, just how much she resembled the fallen warrior princess. Not so strange if you considered the fact that Xena had taught Jarra everything she knew about being a better warrior and a better person. Xena and Gabrielle met Jarra for the first time years ago, not long after thawing out from the “deep freeze”. “Deep freeze” was the term Gabrielle used for the twenty-five years herself and Xena had spent frozen in ice after the god Ares, mistaking them to be dead, placed them in an icy tomb atop Mount Idi. Jarra had been an emotional wreck, wrestling with a great deal of inner turmoil over her past. Gabrielle knew that was what had motivated Xena to help her. Not even the love of a wonderful man named Ezra could have brought her out of it in time if Xena hadn’t come along. Xena had become a sort of mentor to Jarra and helped her to become the strong person she was today.

She was not going to like the news that Gabrielle had for her.

Chapter One

Jarra, on her way back to the “Sea Breeze” inn, wasn’t paying much attention to what was around her. She looked at the road, the people on the street as they passed; nothing of interest presented itself until she glanced ahead at the docks and a flash of blond hair in the crowd caught her eye.

Could it be? Were they back already?

Jarra quickened her pace, pulling her horse Demos along with her. She squinted at the scene before her, a flood of people just getting off of the boats, trying to find that telltale flash of blond. If Gabrielle was here, then Xena was here, too. Jarra hoped so. They had been away for so long; it would be good to see her friends again, two people that had made such a difference in her life. And Jarra’s life had been a very interesting one.

Jarra had been born, and for the most part raised, an Amazon in one of the Greek tribes. Her mother was Lysia, the one that had commanded Queen Hippolita’s armies many years ago. She had been raised like any other Amazon child, steeped in the traditions of her tribe, trained to fight, and taught to be strong. She had been very happy. Jarra loved being strong, loved fighting, and was fiercely loyal to her Amazon sisters. Yes, being the strongest, fastest, and most skilled of her sisters made her very happy indeed. But as the years went by she began to feel that something was missing from her life somehow. Like there was more to her than just being an Amazon, but she didn’t know what. As if she could be something more… Jarra never really gave that feeling any kind of serious thought until the day that her mother sat her down and told her about her father.

He had been a kind and gentle man, a Celt from the faraway lands of Britannia. Her mother never did tell her the details of how they had met, but that was unimportant. It was the stories of his homeland, the life that he led before coming to Greece, which caught her attention. It was those stories that set in motion one of the most significant changes in her life.

That day was the day that Jarra discovered why she felt that there were missing pieces in her life. There was a whole other side of her heritage that she knew nothing about. It called to her. It made the following years somewhat difficult.

As much as Jarra loved tribal life and her sisters, she became restless, desperately wanting to experience and explore this other part of who she was. The Celtic part. And she wanted to find her father, who had left Greece after her mother told him that she could not leave her tribe to be with him. Of course, he could not live with the Amazons, so he went home to Britannia. As far as her mother knew he was still living there. When Jarra asked why he could not have stayed in Greece, her mother replied somewhat sadly, “He swore an oath to his King, to serve him. He could not break that oath. For him there was no choice but to go back to his castle in the Celtic lands and serve the King. I respected that.” After all that Jarra had been taught about honor and loyalty, she respected that decision, too, instead of possibly resenting it. After all, her father really couldn’t have been a part of her life, raised in an Amazon village as she was. That didn’t mean that he couldn’t be now that she was almost grown up.

Jarra wound up wanting more than she thought Amazon life had to offer her. She wanted to know her father and try living the life that he did. Her mother wouldn’t allow her to go off searching for him, which only made Jarra rebellious. She was stubborn (much like her father) and would not give up. For two years she kept up her private rebellion, questioning tradition and village life, and in general getting on everyone’s nerves. It didn’t make the tribal leaders happy, either. They were already upset with her mother for telling Jarra about her father. “She had the right to know,” was all her mother had to say in reply to the leaders’ complaints. The leaders were very unhappy with Jarra because of her behavior. They said it was “disrespectful to the Amazon Nation” and her heritage as an Amazon. Who could blame them, really? In hindsight, Jarra could see what it must have looked like to them. It had hurt her to hear them say those things. Jarra was proud of her heritage and proud to be an Amazon, but it wasn’t the whole of who she was. It never could be, not after what her mother had told her. Didn’t they understand that she needed to find this other part of herself, to know who she really was? To become that greater something that she felt she could be? It didn’t matter whether they did or not, because when she came of age they no longer had a say and neither did her mother. She was leaving for Britannia, this was something she had to do for herself, maybe she would be back but she didn’t know for sure. This was just something that she had to do.

The parting of ways went better than Jarra dared hope. Queen Marga actually gave Jarra her blessing and wished her luck on her quest, as did her mother. Lysia only wanted her daughter to be happy, even if she didn’t quite agree with the way Jarra was going about it. She had always known that Jarra would have to find her own way, even if that way wasn’t with the Amazons. She had just hoped that it would never come to that.

So Jarra had said goodbye to all that she had ever known and set off for Britannia in search or her father and herself. Things weren’t always easy, and sometimes all that had kept her going on the long journey was imagining how happy her father would be when he saw her. When Jarra stepped onto Celtic soil for the very first time, it was like coming home after being away for a lifetime, even though she had never set foot there before. And her father had been happy to see her. Overjoyed in fact, because he had never known his only child. “You’re more beautiful than I could have imagined,” he’d said to her in his lilting Celtic accent upon seeing her.

After a short time Jarra decided to stay with him and learn all that he could teach her about her Celtic heritage. The lifestyle there, though strange at first (not being able to run around in a loincloth like she had in her village, for example), quickly appealed to her and she came to love it, though she made sure never to forget that she was still an Amazon and that that would always be a part of her. No, Jarra never forgot where she came from. She kept many of the Amazon practices with her. She still said the prayer of thanks when she hunted, thanking the gods for their bounty and sending the animal’s spirit off in peace.

The duality of her life made her somewhat of an enigma-even to herself. So much like the Amazon she was raised to be, yet so much like the people she had only thought of as outsiders until she started to become one of them.

Jarra was happier than she had ever been, there with her father in Britannia, though she missed her mother and sisters from her tribe. She vowed to go back one day. Yes she was truly happy, complete for the first time in her life, until the day that her father was brutally murdered while she was away. Jarra didn’t want to go anywhere near that painful memory, the event that had sent her life spiraling out of control…

Pushing the past aside, Jarra continued to search for her friend. There! It was Gabrielle! Waving, she called out, “Hey, Gabby! You’re back!”

Smiling warmly, Gabrielle waved back. “Hi, Jarra!”

Grinning broadly, barely able to control her excitement, Jarra hurried down the street toward her friend. Gods, it was good to see her, and it would be good to see Xena, too. The warrior was her mentor, yes, but she was also one of Jarra’s best friends. How fun it would be to spend time with her again. There was so much Jarra had to tell her.

They met in the middle of the street, just in front of the Sea Breeze Inn, Jarra wrapping her arms around her friend and lifting the smaller, lighter Gabrielle off her feet briefly before gently setting her down.

“How have you been, Jarra?” Gabrielle asked.

“Good. Keeping busy here in Greece. You know what they say: a do-gooder’s work is never done. What about you?”

“Fine,” was Gabrielle’s reply, but something about the way that she said it made Jarra think it wasn’t entirely true. “I’m just happy to be home.”

“I’ll bet. Japan is a long way from here.”

Gabrielle noticed the way that Jarra was glancing about. She knew what Jarra was looking for, or more correctly, who Jarra was looking for. That’s when the inevitable question came, a little sooner than Gabrielle had expected.

“So, where’s Xena?” Jarra asked lightly.

Jarra didn’t see her warrior friend anywhere. Maybe she had already gone off to get a room at the in or some such thing. When Gabrielle didn’t answer right away, Jarra began to feel uneasy. A thought crossed her mind, but she dismissed it. It couldn’t be that.

“Gabrielle, where’s Xena?” Jarra asked again, a bit more insistantly. Why was there a note of panic creeping into her voice?

“Jarra, is there somewhere where we can talk in private?”

Why wasn’t Gabrielle answering her? Jarra was getting a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Something about Gabrielle’s tone, her body language, was wrong somehow, and it bothered Jarra very much. What did she have to say that she couldn’t say right here?

“I have a room at the inn,” Jarra replied. “Ezra is waiting for me there, but-“

“Good. Let’s go.”

Gabrielle had never been this clipped with her before. This wasn’t like Gabrielle at all. What was going on? Where was Xena? Deep down, Jarra knew what the answer might be, but that just wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t be.

Jarra kept telling herself that as she tied up Demos and guided Gabrielle inside the inn and upstairs to her room, the sense of foreboding becoming more suffocating with every step.

Moments later Jarra was holding the door to her room open for Gabrielle. She quickly followed her friend in, closing the door behind her.

“You’re back early.” This from a man who was sitting on one of the room’s two beds, mending a leather vest.

He hadn’t looked up when the two women came in, but when he did he got a pleasant surprise. “Gabrielle,” he said with a smile. “You’re back!”

He put aside his mending work and stood, crossing the room to give Gabrielle a big hug.

“It’s good to see you again, Ezra,” Gabrielle said when he released her.

“You, too, Gab,” he replied, flashing that trademark gorgeous smile of his.

Ezra Lusk, the love of Jarra’s life, the soulmate that Jarra never would have met had she not made the journey to Britannia. So handsome he could almost be considered beautiful, Ezra was tall and well muscled with close-cropped dark brown hair, sculpted cheekbones and an angular jaw, luminous gray eyes and a smile like the sun. He was so good looking that one could almost think he was a god, or at least a half-god. You would never know it, judging by his attitude. If Ezra did know just how striking he really was, he gave no outward sign of it. He thought of himself as just an ordinary guy trying to make it through the day in one piece. He didn’t think that there was anything particularly special about himself, and was as far from conceited as you could get. That was Ezra; laid-back and humble with a great sense of humor, and fiercely loyal to Jarra. Men of his type were rare.

He looked to Jarra, who was still standing with her back to the door, watching the exchange between he and Gabrielle with a faint smile. Something was going on with her, he could feel it. She should have been much more animated; one of her best friends was here after being away for a long time. Instead she was quiet and very still, posture rigid. And the way she was looking at Gabrielle-something was unsettled between them, and Ezra could tell Jarra was anxious to settle it, though it might not make her happy. A very strange vibe was coming off of Gabrielle as well, though he couldn’t quite figure it out at first…

It hit him then-Xena wasn’t there. She and Gabrielle were always together. That struck him as very unusual. He was just opening his mouth to ask Gabrielle the whereabouts of the warrior princess when Jarra beat him to it.

“Gabrielle, where is Xena?”

The edge in Jarra’s voice caught his attention. Was that panic he heard? No. Desperation was a little more accurate. It was also slightly demanding, as if she had asked the question several times without getting an answer. What reason would Gabrielle have not to tell her? Why wait to answer such a simple question until now? This was not like Gabrielle at all.

He looked to Gabrielle. The expression on her face-she looked troubled. She looked like someone who was about to deliver bad news. Ezra suddenly had a terrible sinking feeling, and he prayed that Gabrielle was not going to say what he thought she might be about to say. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t be…

Chapter Two

“Gabrielle, where is Xena?”

Jarra was desperate. Why wasn’t her friend responding? Gabrielle’s expression was grim. Something was horribly wrong.

“I think you should sit down before I tell you, Jarra,” Gabrielle said. “You, too, Ezra.”

The muscles in Jarra’s jaw twitched. It was becoming hard for her not to be angry.

Just tell me already! Jarra’s inner voice screamed at Gabrielle. Aloud she said nothing and went to sit on one of the beds. Ezra sat down next to her, and without thinking she took his hand in hers. Her heart pounded harder as each second ticked by, bringing her closer and closer to the answer that she wasn’t so sure she wanted to hear anymore. The sinking feeling intensified, threatening to overwhelm her. Why was she so afraid of what Gabrielle was going to say?

Jarra watched as Gabrielle gathered herself up, steeling herself against whatever it was she was about to say.

“Jarra-“ she started to say, then stopped. Gabrielle took a deep breath, let it out slowly, then looked Jarra straight in the eyes and told her, “Xena is dead.”

Gabrielle said it so softly that Jarra thought she had heard incorrectly. The silence stretched. Gabrielle had just said the one thing that Jarra had thought to be impossible.

“What?” Jarra finally managed to choke out.

“Xena is dead, Jarra. I’m so sorry.”

It was plain to see that it hurt Gabrielle to say those words, but not nearly as much as it hurt Jarra to hear them. Xena, dead? This couldn’t be. It just couldn’t. But it was, because Gabrielle would never lie to her. Not about this.

Jarra was too shocked at that moment to even cry. She just felt numb. Everything had just become some kind of surreal nightmare as she stared at Gabrielle in stunned silence. The person that had changed her life, saved her from herself, and ultimately became her closest friend, was gone. Xena was gone. Xena was gone.

Images of Xena flashed through her mind’s eye: strong, beautiful, and seemingly unbeatable. Alive. Jarra rallied then, fury boiling up inside her. It wasn’t true, it couldn’t be-

“No,” she said, softly at first, then louder, her voice rising to a near hysterical shout. Her mind was reluctant to accept the truth. “No!”

Ezra, who was still too shocked to say anything, tried to put his arms around her, but she shoved him away. Then she was on her feet standing directly in front of Gabrielle and looking straight into her eyes. “Gabrielle,” she pleaded, “please tell me this isn’t true.”

“I-I can’t,” was all Gabrielle could say. Watching her friend’s heart breaking was obviously difficult for her, and this was a far from comfortable subject.

“Please, Gabrielle… please…” Jarra kept muttering under her breath as she sank to her knees there in the middle of the floor, voice breaking. Undeniable reality sinking in, the brave Amazon who loved Xena more than almost anyone else in her life, started to cry. Gods, it hurt so much, the pain of loss piercing straight through her heart. Searing pain went through her in waves as the tears streamed down her face, sobs shaking her. It was happening again. First her father, and now this. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair!

Then Gabrielle was there, crouching down at her side, Ezra shakily following suit. Ezra’s arms went around her and this time she didn’t try to push him away.

“Is she going to be alright?’ Gabrielle asked him.

When he looked at her she could see the pain in his eyes. He was hurting, too, but was managing somehow to hold it together for Jarra’s sake.

“I hope so,” was all he said.

Gabrielle placed a comforting hand on Jarra’s shoulder while Ezra held her in his arms, rocking her soothingly.

For a long time Jarra’s sobs were the only sound in the room.

The news had left her shattered. That was the only way to describe the way Jarra was feeling right now, and she wondered if she could ever really pick up the pieces. She had lost friends, good friends, before, but it had never hurt like this. Of course, Xena had not been just any ordinary friend to Jarra, either. Xena had been her mentor and her hero, and had meant more to her than anyone could ever know or understand. Jarra owed Xena everything for all that she had done for her. Now she was just-gone.

The finality of it was like a hammerblow.

“How?” Jarra asked when she could speak again. “How did she-“ She couldn’t finish the sentence.

“In a way that was fitting. Violent, like most of her life had been,” Gabrielle replied softly. “She died a warrior’s death.”

That elicited a small smile from Jarra. “I expected nothing less. Xena wouldn’t have had it any other way, would she?”

The question was rhetorical, but Gabrielle answered anyway. “She got her way, to the last.” She wanted to say more, but she found herself getting choked up. Watching Jarra go through this, remembering what had happened, was opening up the old wounds, even though she thought she had dealt with them. Telling the story would not be easy, but Jarra had a right to know what had happened to her friend.

And so, after taking a few deep breaths and steadying herself, Gabrielle proceeded to tell them everything that had happened in the faraway land of the rising sun. She told them about Akemi, about what the ghost killer had told them after they put out the fire that was consuming Higuchi when they arrived. About how Xena’s actions many, many years ago caused a fire that killed thousands living in Higuchi then, albeit inadvertently. About how the demon Yodoshi had enslaved the souls of all that had perished, and about what Xena had had to do to set those souls free.

“I should have known when she tried to teach me the pinch. I should have known what she was going to do. But I really didn’t think that she would, “ Gabrielle said ruefully.

“Xena had to die in order to stop Yodoshi. Something about how only a ghost could kill him. So she went off to face the army led by Morimoto, Yodoshi’s General, and sent myself and the town militia off in the wrong direction.

“There were too many of them, even for her. Xena knew that, and it was exactly what she wanted. She went there to die and sent me away so that I couldn’t stop her.” Gabrielle had to pause there, too choked with emotion to continue.

“She let them kill her,” Jarra said, mostly to herself. “If she had wanted to beat them, she could have.”

“Let me get this straight,” Ezra said. “Xena not only held herself responsible for the people who died in the fire, but for the creation of Yodoshi as well?”

Gabrielle nodded. “Xena taught Akemi how to kill using the pinch, and Akemi used that technique to kill her father, whose evil spirit became the demon Yodoshi. Ultimately, if Akemi had never killed her father she wouldn’t have had to commit suicide, Xena wouldn’t have had to take her ashes to Higuchi’s burial ground, and the conflict that started the fire would never have happened. Those people would not have been killed.”

“Xena had to set things right. Kill Yodoshi, “ Ezra stated.

“What a mess,” was all Jarra could say.

“Like I was saying,” Gabrielle went on, “Xena was no match for Morimoto’s army, but she wanted it that way-“

“Because she had to die to get to Yodoshi and kill him,” Jarra finished numbly.

“Right,” Gabrielle confirmed. “The archers shot her full of arrows before Morimoto himself beheaded her. She fought them to the very end.”

Jarra became very still at that, swallowing against the sick feeling in her stomach. Her expression remained like stone, but a single tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. Jarra could only imagine the pain that Xena must have been in before the end finally came. A warriors death for certain, but a horribly gruesome one. She took a small measure of comfort in knowing that Xena gave everything she had, taking out as may of Morimoto’s soldiers as she could, never backing down even though she knew what was coming. So brave and unwavering-Jarra wanted to cry knowing that, but did her best to hold it back. Later…

Gabrielle went on to tell them about the teahouse where she had finally found Xena, or more accurately, her ghost. It was then that the ghost killer had told her how to bring Xena back to life: cremate her body and take the ashes to Mt. Fugi. Put the ashes in the Fountain of Strength at the summit, and Xena would be alive. But she had to do it by sunset the next day.

“I found the body strung up on display on the outskirts of the army’s camp. When I saw what they had done to her-it was all I could do not to be sick.”

Jarra was fighting a losing battle with the tears that kept coming to her. The image of Xena’s headless body shot full of arrows that kept flashing through her mind wasn’t helping.

“Her head was nowhere to be found. Then I remembered that samurai generals put the heads of their defeated enemies on display as trophies, so I rode into the camp to get it back.”

Gabrielle detailed her one-on-one fight with Morimoto, telling them how she used the skills that Xena taught her to beat him. And she told them how she humiliated Morimoto by leaving him alive, and riding off with what she came for.

“I didn’t leave Morimoto alive because I thought killing him was wrong,” she informed them coolly. “I wanted to kill him. I left him alive because I refused to give him the honor of death after what he had done to Xena.”

That those words had just come out of Gabrielle’s mouth-it was enough to shock Jarra out of her sorrow for the briefest of moments. She had never imagined that Gabrielle would say something so against her own nature. Her love for Xena had been that strong.

Getting back to the story, Gabrielle told them how she immediately built the funeral pyre for her friend, working faster than she knew she could because time was short. At first light the next day, Gabrielle began her ascent to the top of Mt. Fugi. On the way, Morimoto showed up to try and stop her, and in the struggle that followed she had almost lost the ashes. The rest really was history.

Yodoshi showed up, and after an intense battle, Xena killed him, setting all 40,000 innocent souls free, including Akemi’s. The task done, Gabrielle was about to put Xena’s ashes in the fountain when the warrior stopped her. The sun was setting. Time was almost up. Xena told her that she had to stay dead, much to Gabrielle’s disbelief. If she lived the souls would be trapped by her for all eternity instead of finding eternal grace. Xena had caused their deaths; now that she was dead they were avenged. They were free. So she had to stay dead for them to stay free and reach their state of grace. Xena had said it was the final, the good, the right thing to do. Do this one last thing and she would finally be redeemed.

Sitting there listening to Gabrielle tell that pivotal part of the tale, Jarra agreed. As hard as it was, it had been the right thing to do. Jarra did cry then. That Xena could be so selfless was nothing short of amazing.

“So I sat with her by the fountain and watched the sun set, and it was over.”

It wasn’t really over for Gabrielle, not in the way that Jarra and Ezra were thinking. Xena was still with her, but Gabrielle wasn’t ready to tell them about that just yet.

When Jarra looked at Gabrielle after finishing the story, she saw her friend in an entirely different light. Xena staying dead had been her decision as well, and she had made the right choice, the hard choice. The strength that it must have taken for her to do nothing- She loved Xena enough to honor her friend’s wishes.

“I admire you, Gabrielle,” Jarra told her, wiping away tears.

Gabrielle looked surprised at that. “Me?”

“Yes. Do you realize what it took to do what you did?”

Gabrielle did know. Jarra never could.

“You had the ashes right there in your hands and you did nothing. You could have said ‘to hell with what is right’ and dumped them into the fountain anyway. For you to be that selfless-it was almost harder for you.”

After a brief pause Jarra added, “You served the greater good, Gabrielle, in spite of what you knew it would cost you. That makes you a hero to me.”

Gabrielle’s face darkened as Jarra spoke those last words. Why did she look so uncomfortable with that statement?

Gabrielle finally sighed and said, “Even though I know I did the right thing I still ask myself why I didn’t just…”

“Because you loved her so much,” Jarra stated matter-of-factly.

Gabrielle nodded. “You’re right.” That much was true.

“It still doesn’t seem fair.”

Gabrielle smiled ruefully. “It doesn’t, does it? It never will be to me. I think I’ll always wonder if there was another way.”

Slowly Gabrielle got to her feet. She looked drained, like telling the story had taken everything she had out of her. It probably had.

“I should go see about getting a room before they run out,” she said.

“See you in the morning?” Ezra ventured.

“Yeah.”

With that Gabrielle left them, leaving behind two very heartbroken friends.

The ultimate sacrifice. Xena had lost her life, and Gabrielle had lost her best friend. Her soulmate. How hard it must have been to do nothing when you held the means to save the person you loved right there in your hands. The more petulant, unthinking part of Jarra’s mind wanted her to be angry with Gabrielle for that, but she couldn’t. That wasn’t fair to Gabrielle. She had just been doing what Xena wanted. It wasn’t her fault.

Jarra sat back in a chair propped up against the bed nearest to the window, her feet resting on the windowsill in front of her, watching the rain pour down outside. The last light of day was fading with a setting sun that, mercifully, couldn’t been seen, so thick were the rain clouds at the horizon. Fading just like Xena’s only chance of survival had. It was a good thing that Jarra couldn’t see the sunset. All it would do was remind her of Xena’s final moments, her chance at life slipping away as the sun sank ever lower-

Jarra shook her head, trying to get rid of the image. It almost worked. The moment played over and over again in her mind, bringing tears to her eyes. Those last agonizing seconds-and then it was too late. There was no going back. Ever. Tears spilled in silence, her heart wrenching in her chest.

It’s not fair! Not fair! She screamed inside herself, sounding like a petulant child throwing a tantrum. No. It wasn’t fair at all. Not to Xena, and least of all to Gabrielle.

Gabrielle had done nothing. Nothing.

Anger flared inside her again. How could you, Gabrielle!? her mind demanded, and instantly she regretted even thinking such a thing. Gabrielle did exactly what she should have. She did what was right. Anything else would have been grossly selfish. That was one thing that Gabrielle was not. Gabrielle made a sacrifice that no one should ever have to make, just letting someone she loved go when she could have saved her.

Gabrielle did nothing. She had loved Xena enough to let her go. It was what Xena wanted. It was the right thing to do.

The right thing to do.

Jarra repeated those words over and over in her mind. They offered her little comfort.

Sometimes you gotta put those in need before yourself.

How many times had Xena said that to her? And it was true. Serving yourself could only lead to the dark. Xena had known that all too well. And that’s what all of this had really been about, doing that final good thing.

And Jarra wasn’t just hurting for herself. Right now she didn’t know who she hurt more for: herself or Gabrielle. No matter how many times she could say that she understood, she knew that she never really could. That almost hurt her, that she couldn’t feel the hurt Gabrielle had to be feeling and share it with her, maybe even lessen the burden on her friend. That’s what you got for having a tender, sympathetic heart.

Gabrielle was all alone now. Jarra felt a surge of pride in her friend. It was a testament to her strength that she hadn’t just folded and given up. Jarra wasn’t going to give up either. Not yet. And Gabrielle didn’t have to be alone; Jarra would stand by her, if that were what Gabrielle wanted.

At some point Ezra had finished mending his gear and had come to stand beside her, one hand resting gently on her shoulder. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. His loving touch was all that she needed. She imagined that she could feel his love and strength flowing into her, and it eased the pain a little. Gods, what would she do without him? Would she ever have to sacrifice him one day?

“Are you going to be okay, Jarra?” he asked softly. He didn’t even sound like himself. The news had hit him harder than he was letting on.

Was she okay? Her hero was dead. You never envision your heroes dying. They seem indestructible, immortal, larger than life. This kind of thing wasn’t supposed to happen to your heroes, especially if one of those heroes is your friend. Xena never thought of herself as a hero, but she always would be to Jarra. The news of her death had been a shattering blow. Jarra was beginning to think that she would be picking up the pieces forever.

“I don’t know, Ezra.” She looked out the window at the rain, her heart wrenching again. “I don’t know.”

Gabrielle told herself that she left them because there was nothing more to say, because they needed some time alone right now. That might have been true, but it wasn’t the real reason. Gabrielle couldn’t bear to stay there with them any longer. The pain on Jarra’s face, the hurt in her eyes-another minute in that room and she would have broken down, too. She couldn’t let them see that.

Telling the story of Xena’s demise had been like reliving the events all over again. She had experienced it all; hurt, anguish, sorrow, frustration, anger, everything. It had taken all of her strength to finish the story and get out of there.

Gabrielle knew what they didn’t know-that Xena was still with her, seeming so alive sometimes that Gabrielle could almost believe she had never died. But things would never be the same as they were. They never could be. For that Gabrielle still mourned, a very raw and deep hurt still lingering inside despite all that she knew. Comfort came in the knowledge that Xena’s spirit still walked with her, that death had been unable to separate them. It didn’t, however, make her miss her friend any less. Xena wasn’t always there, though Gabrielle could always feel her, and she missed that constant physical presence the most. Jarra’s naked pain only made Gabrielle more aware of just what she had lost, on top of all the feelings the telling of the story had brought out from deep inside.

The retelling of events also brought up an issue that Gabrielle was far, far away from being able to handle, something that she had conveniently left out of the story. It was too personal to share with Jarra and Ezra despite how close they were to her. It was the root of her frustration and anger. If only Xena’s redemption hadn’t been at stake, things would have gone differently. Xena would be alive. But how right would that have been, considering what it meant for all of those souls…?

For the first time in months, Gabrielle cried for Xena, deep melancholy coming over her like a smothering blanket. She lay down on the bed in her room at the inn and sobbed. Frustration over the way that things had played out pushed the tears out even harder. She could have saved Xena, if only- If only. Guilt seized her. She would have saved Xena if only- If only…

That was what made her uncomfortable when Jarra had called her a hero. Jarra would not admire her if she knew that the greater good had nothing to do with it. She was no hero. Not when she would have-if only…

Alone in the dark, she cried hard, unable to stop and not really wanting to. She had held it in for too long.

No one could ever know what it took to let Xena go. No one…

Night stretched into early morning in the small portside town. Sometime in the hours before dawn, Jarra slowly awoke from a deep and blissfully dreamless sleep. She curled more tightly against the still sleeping Ezra, listening to the rhythmic sounds of his breathing, the beating of his heart.

Hours ago, he had held her while they both grieved in silence. Then they had talked, about everything. And talking about it had made Jarra feel better, but it had not been enough. Suddenly she had found herself kissing him hungrily, desperately, wanting to feel something other than grief and numbness. Startlingly aware of her own mortality, she had wanted to feel alive, and she wanted to forget. Pressing Ezra back on the bed, she had lost herself in him, hungry for what only he could give her and wanting to love him before she lost him, too.

Their lovemaking had brought her peace for a time, healing her heart and giving her a respite from the pain. But it was fleeting. Now that Jarra was awake, the hurt came creeping back ever so slowly until it seized her heart once more. Would this horrible feeling ever go away? It hurt so much; Jarra wasn’t sure how much longer she could bear it.

She would never see Xena again. She would never hear her voice again. She would never fight by her side again…

Tears rolled down her face as she cried silently, not for the first time and certainly not the last. It would be a long time before anything felt right again.

Chapter Three

The next morning Gabrielle found Jarra exactly where she thought she would be: in the tavern that made up the bottom floor of the inn.

Jarra was staring into an empty mug, looking rather dismal as she did so. Gabrielle sat down at the table without being invited.

“So how drunk are you?” she inquired.

“Depends. Are my eyes open?” asked Jarra thickly.

“Yes.”

“Then the answer to your question is, ‘not enough’. She signaled for someone to bring over another mug of whatever it was she was having. A serving maid brought the drink, but rather than ask what it was, Gabrielle picked it up before Jarra could down it. Jarra didn’t look like she had enough energy left to complain.

“Jarra, I know you’re hurting, but crawling into a mug of wine isn’t the answer.”

“Babies crawl, Gab,” Jarra said in a very arch tone. “I’m an adult. Adults walk. I’m walking into a mug of wine.”

Gabrielle rolled her eyes. “Jarra…”

“Bringing her back is the only answer,” Jarra said suddenly. “And that’s not gonna happen. Ever.”

“Xena wouldn’t want you to do this to yourself-“

“Does it matter?” Jarra demanded. “She’s gone.”

Gabrielle watched in silence as she threw back another mugfull. This was not going to be easy.

“I know what you’re going through, but you’ve got to move on, or-“

“I hurt inside!” Jarra shouted at her, eyes glistening with barely restrained tears. “Don’t you?”

Gabrielle was shocked by the sudden outburst. Everyone in the tavern was staring at them. The accusatory tone of that question was like a slap in the face. Anger boiled up inside of her; how dare Jarra accuse her? She’d done everything she could have. Gods, she would have- She hurt more than anyone would ever know, and not just because Xena had died. Oh, no. What she would have done… Gabrielle found herself shouting back before she could reign herself in.

“Of course I hurt!” Her voice was unsteady, shaking as her emotions roiled inside. “We are all hurting! But nothing can change what happened! Nothing!” Her voice had risen steadily in volume, her own tears threatening to spill over. Jarra would never understand how hard it had been, how hard it was now-

Jarra didn’t say a word, startled into silence by the intensity of Gabrielle’s reaction.

“Wallowing in grief won’t accomplish anything. Get over it!”

Instantly, Gabrielle regretted the harshness of her words. Jarra was drunk. She was grieving. She didn’t know what she was saying. Such an outburst wouldn’t help her, and had only succeeded in making a huge embarrassing scene. Yet as she watched the emotions play across Jarra’s face, Gabrielle suspected that those harsh words had been just the thing Jarra needed to hear.

“I’m sorry-” Gabrielle started to apologize.

“Don’t,” Jarra said quietly, shaking her head.

They sat in silence for a long while. Long after the other patrons of the tavern had gone back to their own business, Jarra looked Gabrielle in the eyes and said softly, “I juz’ don’ wanna hurt like this.”

Gabrielle’s heart went out to her at those words, and she felt even worse about getting so angry. Jarra really was taking this hard. Concern replaced the previous anger, anger born more out of Gabrielle’s own hurt and guilt than anything Jarra had said. Gabrielle’s anger, fleeting and far from genuine, was about one thing: the guilt and frustration she was carrying inside of her. To know what she would have done that day on Mt. Fugi-she hated herself for that, and it scared her that she would have, if only she hadn’t loved Xena so much. That she would have so betrayed her beliefs-it was terrifying. But letting her emotions run away with her like this wouldn’t help Jarra. Jarra needed support, not her friends screaming at her.

Jarra swayed in her chair, and Gabrielle was there to steady her.

“Come on, Jarra,” she said helping her friend to stand. “Let’s get you upstairs.”

Jarra came to sometime that afternoon, finding herself in bed in her room at the inn. She felt awful, and not just because of her raging hangover. She didn’t remember much about that morning except yelling at Gabrielle. Why had she said such a thing to her friend? Accusing Gabrielle of being unfeeling (for surely that was what it had sounded like)-that was cold and totally uncalled for. Of course, she hadn’t meant it. Did Gabrielle know that?

I’ll be lucky if Gabrielle ever speaks to me again, Jarra thought sadly. She regretted those harsh words so much, but it was hard to take something like that back. Once something like that is said, it doesn’t just go away. Jarra didn’t think that Gabrielle was the type to hold a grudge, but still-

Words could cut just as deeply as any knife, and leave a wound worse than any physical injury. Jarra just hoped that she hadn’t really hurt Gabrielle. That would be hard to live with.

She couldn’t think about it anymore. The pounding in her head was making it too hard to focus.

Ezra sat down beside her on the bed. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

Jarra groaned and tried to sit up, but thought better of it and immediately lie back down when a wave of nausea and dizziness hit her. “Like I’ve been run over by a stampede of wild boar.”

“Serves you right for being so stupid.”

He was right about that. There was no excuse for allowing herself to get so out of control.

Lovingly, he stroked her cheek. His expression, however, was not one of affection but one of concern. “I’m worried about you, Jarra.”

“I worried about me, too,” she told him honestly. She didn’t like what she had done this morning. She didn’t like that she had let things go that far, didn’t like that she had gotten herself into that predicament. But she hurt…

“I’m also worried about Gabrielle.”

“Because of what you said to her?” he asked.

“Not just that-“ How could she describe what she had felt from Gabrielle? “Something is wrong.”

“She lost her best friend,” Ezra said reasonably.

“It wasn’t that,” she said, shaking her head and instantly regretting it. Just what had she felt? It was like something was eating away at Gabrielle. You could see it on her face, in her eyes. It wasn’t about Xena; it was different, like guilt or regret… But maybe she had imagined it. She had been drunk, after all. “I-its probably nothing. Forget it.”

Knocking at the door of the room. The sound couldn’t have been that loud, but it made Jarra feel like her head was splitting open. The pounding in her temples intensified. Covering her face with her hands, Jarra groaned miserably.

Before she knew it, Ezra had crossed the small room and answered the door.

“How is she doing?”

The voice was Gabrielle’s. Wonderful. Jarra felt guilt weighing heavily upon her. How could she face Gabrielle after this morning?

“How is she doing?” Gabrielle asked, genuinely concerned for her friend.

Ezra sighed. “Extremely hung over, but otherwise fine. Just keep your voice down.”

She nodded and walked past him, heading for the bed where Jarra lay resting.

Her angry outburst this morning had surprised her. It was very unlike her to act that way in any situation. Then again, this wasn’t just any situation, and she hadn’t been feeling or acting like herself for months. She had been so furious-maybe Jarra’s words had been uncalled for, but they did not deserve that response, not when the person saying them didn’t know what they were saying. There were things that Gabrielle still needed to handle within herself. She thought she had made peace. She had, over Xena’s death anyway. But there was more that no one knew about, that she had tried to ignore. She had just covered it up, and it had come roaring to the surface the instant that Jarra had triggered it. Her personal frustration and guilt were making her angry, and she had taken it out on Jarra. Gabrielle felt horrible about that. It wasn’t right. What was wrong with her, that she had done that? That back in Japan she had thought (though only for an instant) of doing something so wrong just so she could have Xena; that she would have done it if only…

The encounter had left her aching with reawakened guilt. She wondered: would she ever be able to accept what she had felt that day in Japan? Or would she have to keep covering it up, only to have it come back again and again until it destroyed her? She didn’t know. What she did know was that she didn’t like what was happening to her, and it left her feeling raw inside. And afraid.

Fighting those uncomfortable feelings down, she brought herself back to the moment. She was here to see Jarra, to apologize.

She sat down on the bed, hands resting in her lap. “You okay?” she asked, keeping her voice low.

Jarra sat up very slowly, wincing and putting a hand to her head. “I guess,” she said in a pained voice, squeezing her eyes shut against the bright light coming in through the window. “It depends on what your idea of okay is.”

Gabrielle knew exactly what she meant. Inside, everything was not okay. How could it be when you are constantly being wrenched by emotion?

“I’m sorry-“ they both began at the same time.

They stopped abruptly. Gabrielle smiled slightly. “Let’s start over. You first, Jarra.”

A deep breath. Jarra let it out slowly before she spoke, avoiding eye contact. “I feel really bad about what I said. You don’t say things like that to your friends. I just hope that I didn’t really hurt you. I didn’t mean it.”

“I’m not going to lie to you, Jarra,” Gabrielle said. “It did hurt. But I know that people in pain sometimes say things that they don’t mean when emotions get the better of them, and I know that you didn’t know what you were doing. I forgive you. Look at me, Jarra,” Gabrielle asked gently.

When their eyes met, Gabrielle continued. “I should not have reacted the way that I did. I was just so angry all of a sudden, and I couldn’t stop it. I’m actually thankful.”

Jarra looked slightly confused at that.

“What you said-it brought some things to the surface,” she explained. “Things that I had buried. I didn’t like being reminded of them, feeling them again, and I lashed out at you. That wasn’t right, and I’m sorry. Now that those things have been uncovered, I can deal with them. They need to be dealt with, so thank you for that.”

Jarra’s gaze dropped to the floor again. “So, you’re not angry with me?”

“No,” Gabrielle answered truthfully. “I understand why all of it happened. I don’t think that either of us is to blame.”

They weren’t to blame. Emotions were. Their roles could easily have been reversed. The words still stung, but Gabrielle knew where they had come from: a hurting heart. She could hardly hold that against Jarra. She also knew what it took for her friend to apologize, and that said a lot.

She reached out and took Jarra’s hands in hers. “We’re friends and Amazon sisters, Jarra. It would take a lot more than this to ruin that.”

Jarra looked up at her and smiled. ‘Forgotten, then?”

Gabrielle nodded, relieved to have that behind them.

Jarra’s smile faded, her eyes becoming distant. Her voice was almost a whisper as she said, “I can’t believe she’s gone.”

Of course she was referring to Xena.

“I keep expecting her to walk through the door, but she doesn’t…”

If only Jarra could know what she knew. Jarra would understand why she wasn’t grieving as much as she should have been… But it was too personal, even if she did have the words to describe it.

“I’ll be right back,” Gabrielle said, going to the door to get Ezra, who had gone outside to give them some privacy while they talked.

“Whoa. Where did that come from?”

At first, Gabrielle had no idea what Jarra was talking about. She halted just in front of the door. “What?”

“The dragon tattoo on your back. It’s beautiful, but I never took you to be the tattoo type.”

Of course. The tattoo. Gabrielle had her back to Jarra and wasn’t wearing her coat. The stylized Japanese dragon, which stretched from the base of her neck to the small of her back, was spread over her entire back. Jarra would have to be blind to miss it. There was another smaller piece, a fish, on her lower leg, but that was hidden by her boot.

“It was given to me to protect me from Yodoshi,” Gabrielle answered stiffly. She didn’t want to go there right now. Jarra seemed to get the message, because she didn’t ask any further questions on the subject.

Gabrielle opened the door to the room and stuck her head out. Ezra was just outside, leaning against the wall.

“You can come back in now,” she told him.

“How did it go?” he asked her.

“Good,” she said. “No hard feelings.”

He smiled. “That’s good to hear. I admit I was a little worried, about both of you.”

They stepped back into the room together, Ezra closing the door behind them.

“You told me this morning that you were leaving tomorrow,” Ezra said to Gabrielle. “Where are you headed?”

“North,” Gabrielle replied. “I’m taking Xena’s ashes to the family crypt in Amphipolis.”

There was a somber silence between the three of them then. The reality was hitting all of them again. Putting Xena to rest-was that possible? The idea was still a bit strange to Gabrielle.

“I don’t want to impose,” Jarra said, breaking the silence, “but would you mind if Ezra and I came with you?”

Would she? No. Xena was their friend. They had a right to come along and pay their respects.

“Of course you can come,” she told them. “It’ll be good to have you along,” she added with a smile.

Talking to someone other than herself, or Xena’s ghost (for lack of a better way of describing it), would be a welcome change. The companionship that she shared with Jarra-she needed that right now.

“You’ll need to be packed and ready to go by sunrise tomorrow,” Gabrielle informed them. “We need to get an early start.”

Jarra and Ezra nodded their understanding.

“By the way, Gabrielle,” said Ezra. “Nice tattoo.”

Chapter Four

The three friends had set out early, just before sunrise, after Gabrielle retrieved Argo from the town stables. That’s where Xena had left the mare, in the care of a friend, before she and Gabrielle had left the port on their way to Japan.

All of them were wearing long, warm coats to protect them from the freezing morning temperatures, their breath misting in the icy air.

Ezra’s attire matched Jarra’s; black leather coat, vest, and pants, minus the armor. All that black leather made them quite a striking sight, especially Jarra, sitting tall atop her black stallion Demos. Gabrielle wore her usual outfit; red velvet skirt and top with her long coat made up of patches of white cream and tan.

Hardly a word passed between them as they traveled that morning. Their solemn mood, and Jarra and Ezra’s black clothing, made them seem like a funeral procession. In essence, that’s what they were.

Before long the port town was behind them, the sun climbing into the sky as they traversed the hills to the north. By the time they reached the other side of the range of low hills a few hours later, the sun had done little to warm the countryside. Before them stretched a glade of trees and soft green grass, the road they were currently on winding its way trough the center of the tall trees. It was a beautiful sight to see on a cold, clear day such as this, but none of them seemed to take notice. They were preoccupied with thoughts of the friend that they were taking home.

They had traveled about halfway through the glade, trees rising on either side of the road, when Jarra reigned Demos to a stop. Her eyes were closed, head cocked to one side.

“Why are you-?” Ezra started to ask, but Jarra silenced him with a wave.

Jarra became perfectly still, listening just as Xena had taught her. Listening not just to the sounds, but what was behind them. The faint tinkling of the horses’ harnesses, Ezra and Gabrielle’s breathing-she pushed beyond those things, out into the surrounding trees. Long seconds passed before Jarra opened her eyes, looking around cautiously.

“Did you hear that?” she asked in a low voice.

“They’ve been following us since we entered the glade,” Gabrielle said quietly. “Just keep moving.”

Jarra gave Demos a slight nudge to get him moving again and let Gabrielle take the lead. So they were being followed. But she hadn’t heard anything until just now, and she was no slouch. Gabrielle had been aware the whole time. It was uncanny. Since when was she as in-tune as Xena?

Someone was crashing through the underbrush on either side of the road; six men armed with swords and clubs surrounded them in an instant. In an eye-blink Jarra was off her horse, weapons drawn and held ready. Ezra had his sword drawn as well, facing the men behind them. Gabrielle hadn’t moved. As still as a statue, she coolly surveyed the thugs from her position atop Argo, making no move to draw her sais or katana sword.

“Can I help you?” Gabrielle asked flatly.

“Yeah,” one particularly grubby, greasy haired, yellow toothed thug said. He appeared to be their leader. “You can start by giving us all your money and valuables, and then-“ His eyes raked over Jarra and Gabrielle suggestively. Ezra stiffened. Over his dead body; none of those thugs would lay a hand on them if he had anything to say about it.

“And if we don’t?” Gabrielle’s expression was unreadable.

“Then you’ll die,” their leader sneered.

“Hey, ain’t you Xena’s friend, Gabrielle?” one of the others asked.

“I hear they’re a lot more than friends,” another one said. This set off a round of snickering among the thugs.

The temperature in the glade dropped several degrees as Gabrielle said frostily, “That’s none of your business.”

One of the thugs started to step back. “If she’s Gabrielle,” he said, “then Xena’s bound to be here somewhere. I don’t wanna mess with her.”

Murmurs of agreement from the others.

“Ain’t you idiots heard?” the leader demanded. “Xena’s dead.” His hard gaze moved back to Gabrielle. “She’s not here to bail you out anymore, little one.”

Jarra noticed that Gabrielle bristled ever so slightly at his words, her hands clenching briefly as she held the reigns. She raised an eyebrow. “Little one? I hope that wasn’t a crack about my height,” she deadpanned. There was a dangerous tone to her voice.

One of the thugs snickered. A furious look from the leader silenced him.

“I was willing to let you go if you gave us what we wanted,” he informed Gabrielle. “But now that I know who you are, I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

Jarra didn’t like the direction that this was going in. She felt herself coiling even tighter, ready to spring into the fight that was almost surely coming.

“I still don’t know who you are,” Gabrielle said. The note of danger in her voice was plain now.

“You don’t recognize me, little one?” The leader grinned, exposing rotten teeth.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop calling me that.”

The tone of her voice was enough to make even Jarra shift uneasily.

The leader laughed nervously. “I’m surprised that you don’t remember me.”

“Low-life trash all looks the same to me.”

His smile disappeared. Touché.

“Xena cost me a lot of money the last time we met-“

“She stopped you from hurting innocent people,” Gabrielle stated. She recognized him now. He was a slave trader named Athos; Xena had put him out of business. Now he was reduced to this pathetic band of thugs, preying on innocent travelers.

Athos ignored her. “She owes me, and since she’s not here, I’ll have to take it out on you and your friends.”

He chopped a hand through the air; two thugs armed with heavy clubs made for Gabrielle. Argo promptly reared up on her hind legs, her front hooves catching both men square in the face. Two down, four to go.

“Good girl,” Gabrielle whispered into the mare’s ear. Metal sang as she drew her katana, a gift from the people of Higuchi, from the scabbard on her back. Dismounting quickly, she joined Jarra and Ezra as the remaining thugs circled.

Athos stood back a few paces, three sword-wielding thugs closed in. Jarra’s battle cry, a guttural yell, cut through the glade. She caught her attacker’s sword with crossed sais in front of her, shoving back as hard as she could. The thug recovered quickly, but she was ready. Reversing her grip on her weapons, she knocked his next blow aside with one and cracked a punch across his face with the other. He went down.

She glanced briefly in Ezra’s direction; he was holding his own. Jarra sprinted over to Gabrielle. Her friend’s katana sword was a blur as, with fluid grace, she knocked aside her enemy’s blows one after another.

Gabrielle had an opening for a kill shot, but she didn’t take it. Maybe she hadn’t seen it-no. She doesn’t want to kill him, Jarra realized. That was Gabrielle. She would avoid killing, where Xena might have taken the shot.

But for all her skill, the thug somehow got a shot inside her guard. Gabrielle was immediately sidestepping out of the way, but not fast enough. Then Jarra was there, lashing out with one sai to knock away the sword thrust aimed at Gabrielle’s stomach. Jarra had just saved her life.

“Nice save,” Gabrielle called.

“No problem. Now you owe me,” Jarra called back. “I’ll take this one. Get the leader.”

Gabrielle nodded and spun out of the way. Jarra deflected blows with lightening speed, sais almost moving faster than the eye could follow. The butt ends collided with the thug’s chest and face in rapid succession. The shot to the head spun him around. He staggered, but kept coming. Jarra hit him again with all her strength; this time he went down and stayed down. Two to go.

Not far away, Ezra dispatched his thug with a backfist, spinning and coming around with a roundhouse kick that sent the thug flying. One left.

Gabrielle advanced on Athos; Jarra and Ezra hung back.

Jarra watched her friend with silent amazement. Gabrielle was very different from the person she remembered. The way she fought-she did it with a degree of skill that Jarra had never seen in her before. The last time that they had been together their skills had been almost evenly matched. It was obvious to Jarra that Gabrielle had since gone over and above her. Increadible, the way she moved-it was almost like watching Xena. Gabrielle had become that good.

Athos was visibly shaken. He had honestly thought that his men could overpower them. Didn’t he know that Gabrielle, someone who had traveled with Xena for so long and had been taught everything the warrior knew, was a force to be reckoned with? Apparently not.

Panicked, but not quite cowardly enough to cut and run, Athos stood his ground. At this point his desire for revenge was keeping him in this fight.

“Tell you what, Athos. You leave right now, and I’ll spare you,” Gabrielle told him, eyes hard and unyielding. “But if I ever see you again-“

“You don’t get off that easy, little one,” he sneered. As rattled as he was, he was boiling with anger, not about to give. “Xena owes me, and you’re gonna pay off her debt.” His angry stare turned into a leering gaze, appraising, like her was undressing her with his eyes. He probably was. “I’ll have some fun with you before I kill you.”

Jarra’s stomach churned at his words.

“I don’t think so.” The tone with which Gabrielle spoke was almost more frightening than the look she was giving Athos at that moment.

Gabrielle not so much saw as heard his weight shift the instant before he came at her. It was all the warning that she needed; already in motion before Athos lunged, Gabrielle spun out of the way. He flew by her, his momentum pulling him off-balance. Gabrielle hit the back of his head with the pommel of her sword as he passed, sending him sprawling.

“I’ll give you one more chance, Athos,” Gabrielle warned.

He said nothing, scrambling to his feet and letting out a furious bellow before coming at her again. Gabrielle watched his eyes and saw his next move. Her sword deflected his blow faster than seemed humanly possible, then flicked her blade up to the side of his face. Athos yelped and touched his cheek; his fingers came away bloody. His startled gaze darted between his bloody fingers and Gabrielle, who stood calmly holding her katana before her.

Anger flashed in his eyes. “You’ll pay for that.”

He flew at her again. Clang, clang ; the sound of swords meeting rang through the glade. He swung wide, her sword flicked up again, leaving a razor-thin slice in his other cheek. Again Athos went from shocked to shaking with fury. Again he struck out with his sword. Again Gabrielle reacted an instant before he moved. She knocked aside his blows easily with almost unnatural speed, as if she knew where they would be before Athos ever made them.

Jarra had only seen one other person fight like that. It gave her chills to see Gabrielle so closely mirroring Xena.

The ringing of Athos’ blade changed pitch. Jarra knew that sound. It was about to break.

Gabrielle’s katana collided with his sword in one powerful stroke, and the upper half of his blade shattered into a thousand pieces. The jagged edge of what was left was still a threat, however. The katana flicked up again, the point coming to rest just underneath Athos’ chin. Razor-sharp steel bit into vulnerable flesh. Blood trickled. Athos was wide-eyed with shock, trying not to move lest he get his throat slashed. Gabrielle wouldn’t do it, but he didn’t know that.

Gabrielle’s eyes bored into his. “Drop. Your. Sword.” The steel in her voice conveyed that she would brook no argument.

He was in the process of complying when he suddenly stopped and smiled. Gabrielle’s brow furrowed. Why was he smiling?

Out of the corner of her eye she saw it; one of the thugs was conscious and coming toward them. In the fraction of a second that Gabrielle was distracted Athos lashed out with a kick to her middle that knocked her to the ground. When she recovered, the thug was dangerously close to Jarra, sword raised and about to cut her down. Jarra had heard him coming, but not in time. Gabrielle reached for the chakram clipped to her belt. An instant to aim, and she launched it at the thug. The metal disk flew straight and true, whizzing past Jarra’s ear and cracking into the attacker’s skull. He fell back, dead, and the chakram angled away to bounce off a nearby tree and back into Gabrielle’s hand.

Jarra had felt the breeze from the chakram’s passing. That had been very close. She was amazed. Gabrielle knew how to use the chakram! And she was deadly accurate with it, too. Jarra could only stare back in surprise.

“Now we’re even,” Gabrielle called to her.

“Thanks,” Jarra heard herself say.

Where was Athos? There, taking a sword off of one of the unconscious thugs. Time to put an end to this. Gabrielle was tired of playing games.

A quick parry and she had his sword pinned to the ground with her katana.

“Is that the best you can do, little one?” Athos taunted.

Gabrielle backfisted him across the face. His head snapped back but he stayed on his feet. Her fist cracked up underneath his chin. The uppercut lifted him up off of his feet and sent him sailing backward through the air. He was unconscious before he hit the ground. She took the few steps that would bring her to his side. Looking down at his unconscious form, she growled, “Don’t call me ‘little one’.”

Sheathing her katana, Gabrielle spun on her heel and walked briskly away from Athos, back to where the horses and her friends were waiting.

“Let’s get out of here,” was all she said before mounting Argo.

Jarra looked to Ezra. “You okay?”

He nodded.

The heat of battle, just now starting to cool, flared into the heat of passion, and suddenly Jarra found herself kissing him deeply, high on adrenaline, her survival instinct pushing her. Fighting always got her juices going, and not just her creative ones. Gods, if Gabrielle wasn’t there-