ForevaXena's FanFic . . .

FanFic Collaboration
Part 1

by J Falconer

Disclaimer: Xena, Gabrielle et al belong to MCA/Universal and Ren Pics.

Copyright © 2000: This is an ongoing collaborative work written by members of the "ForevaXenites" mailing list.
http://www.egroups.com/subscribe/forevaxenites

Violence disclaimer: There may be some of that along the way.  After all, consider our subject!

Love/Sex warning: This is designed to be a "subtext friendly" story.  There may well be references to love/sex between our 2 female leads.  If you are under 18 years of age or if this type of story is illegal in the state or country in which you live, please read no further.

"It was a dark and stormy night - " began Gabrielle, eyebrows creasing together in concentration, golden head bent.

"No it wasn’t," interrupted the warrior princess, startling blue eyes gleaming as she eyed her companion in consternation over the light of the flickering fire. "Gabrielle, you know it was the middle of the day."

Shivers traveled up and down Gabrielle’s spine at the sound of the warrior’s voice. As if her friend’s sheer presence wasn’t distracting enough, she could feel the sky blue gaze resting comfortably on her, and she knew that if she looked up, she would see the grin tugging at Xena’s mouth, the arched black eyebrow ...

Not looking up, she said emphatically, "But it sounds better this way." If she looked up, the warrior would know what lay so carefully guarded in her heart, but often bubbled to the surface.

"Gabrielle," growled the warrior playfully.

Now Gabrielle did look up, and was captured by the face that she loved so deeply, the emotion borderline terrifying in it’s depth, completely unplatonic. Her eyes locked with the blue of Xena’s, she almost lost her train of thought, then she cleared her throat and broke the spell, pathetically grateful that she hadn’t volunteered to read the end of the story, which was quite ... steamy. Not at all how the real thing had ended.

"Well ..." she trailed off, sucking at her quill thoughtfully, scroll resting comfortably on her legs, letters dancing in the flickering firelight. "Oh ... alright. But I don’t think ‘It was a sunny afternoon,’ has the same dramatic impact."

This was punctuated by a deep, thoughtful chew on the ratty end of the quill.

Xena watched her companion with some amusement. This was the best time for her. The dangers of the day had been overcome, camp had been set up, Argo tended to, the perimeter checked. She could sit for a few pleasant moments, and simply gaze at the face of the person she had come to love more than life itself. Of course, she had not told Gabrielle that her feelings went far beyond the platonic, but the young woman didn’t need to know that the warrior considered herself to be a horny old centaur when it came to a certain luscious young bard.

Seeing the green eyes staring openly and frankly at her was almost her undoing, and profound relief swept through her when Gabrielle looked away and broke the moment. Senses tingling, she became ultra aware of the night sounds all around them ... or, rather, the lack thereof.

Almost an interruption of her internal state, she looked around in some confusion, trying to decipher meaning of the the alert which suddenly flooded through her, danger meter clanging loudly, jarring her. When she straightened abruptly, scenting the suddenly silent night air, Gabrielle looked up at her with some alarm, quill dangling forgotten in her fingertips.

"What is it?" she whispered urgently, as Xena shushed her and began to rise to her feet, instinctively grabbing for her sword.

"Trouble," she said softly, as the thick trees began to move on a sudden soft breeze.

Xena standing, Gabrielle also rising to her feet and scooting over the warrior’s protective side, relishing the feel of the free hand on her arm, they watched the trees as they moved with increasing unnatural fervor in the rising cold, carrion breeze. Xena was dimly aware of the smell as Gabrielle fell to her knees in the steadily rushing wind, retching violently at the smell.

Chilled to the bone by the semi sentient howling miasma of death, losing her balance in it’s cold fury, both the sagging Gabrielle and the warrior were grabbed and hurled out of their campsite, possessions scattered, Argo screaming in fright, losing balance and tumbling along with them. Gabrielle’s scrolls and quill were torn from her startled grasp, traveling the same way as the warrior’s sword, which had also been carelessly whipped from the strong hand.

Though their flight was uncontrolled, the warrior was able to grasp and pull her friend in close as they were viciously hurled against a tree.

Gabrielle, shockingly woozy and semi conscious, was dimly aware of the breath exploding from Xena’s lungs at the impact. Abruptly, the turmoil ceased, leaving only a foul stench in it’s wake, surrounding them, caressing them with icy, uncaring and intrusive, intimate fingers.

"Xena," she mumbled fuzzily, breast armour cutting into her cheek, trying to rally and get off the already moving warrior princess. The strong arms tightened around her reassuringly, and the hard surface moved, drawing them both to their feet, scent of herbal soap, leathers and steel of Xena undercutting the foul stench of decay and high rotting flesh which encircled them.

"Son of a bacchae," murmured Xena in soft surprise as the blue of her eyes took in the destruction lying around the remains of their campsite. "Where in Hades did that come from?" She held the recovering bard close to her, face against her chest, watching the sparks from the scattered embers of the campfire, fallen trees, wreckage of limbs lying all around them in careless abandon. There was no sign of their personal possessions or Argo as the blue eyes struggled to come to terms with the suddenly decreased light level.

The obnoxious smell still rolled around them in waves, breath frosting in front of their faces, as Gabrielle suddenly collapsed to her knees and was quickly and tidily sick again, sudden spiraling terror for Xena’s welfare adding to her nausea.

The warrior’s eyes did not leave the clearing as she placed a careful hand on the bard’s back.

"Gabrielle," she murmured. "Whatever that was is still here. Can you move?"

"I -- I think so," stuttered Gabrielle softly.

"Good," said the warrior, helping the bard back to her feet, facing the expectant silence of their shattered campsite. Her arm stayed around the bard as she sucked in a deep breath, almost choking on the moribund fumes wafting around them. Dread of her own for Gabrielle began to seep into her, and she silenced it with a vicious inward slap, swearing to herself she would keep Gabrielle safe at all costs.

"Who are you?" demanded Xena firmly. "Where are you?"

"I am with you," responded a ringing cold voice, neither masculine or feminine, large, loud. "It matters not who I am."

"What kind of an answer is that?" said the warrior, unable to gauge the direction the sound was coming from realizing who it was, desperately stalling for time. "Tell me who you are!"

"You know me extremely well, Princess," said the voice, tinkling with amusement, grotesquely jovial. "I have come for you."

For the first time in a very long time, Xena went pale. The recovering bard, who had been watching the face of the woman she loved more than life itself, was stricken by a cold bolt of dread. "What is that ... voice ... talking about, Xena?" she asked flames of terror fuelled by the dread.

Xena sucked in breath to answer, just as another gust of wind began. Ahead of them the ruined stand of trees parted in an O shape and two arrows, remarkable in and of themselves with their length of four feet,  swept through the gap created by the foliage, straight towards them.

Finally finding something she could deal with, Xena semi relaxed, and prepared to catch the arrows. Her fingers easily closed around the one destined for Gabrielle’s gentle breast. She was not so lucky with the one aimed at her. Though her fingers clasped it easily, she yelped as the passing smooth wood tore the skin from  her palm as it embedded itself deep in her chest.

Dropping the arrow she had caught, wounded hand pattering blood on the upheaved ground beside her, she reached up and ineffectually clutched at the arrow piercing her strong and sometimes dark heart, regret tearing through her soul. Too shocked to scream, Gabrielle grabbed Xena, clutching her as she collapsed to the ground, blood pooling all over the young bard. She was unaware of the carrion smell slowly dispersing on the gentle night wind, air temperature returning to normal now that the disembodied voice had done it’s work.

"Oh no, Xena," Gabrielle moaned as the tears spilled out of her eyes and down her face.

"Gabrielle," said the warrior softly, heart broken, not knowing where to start saying all the things she wanted to say, now not having time to voice what was in her soul.

"I love you," was all Gabrielle could get out, wanting desperately to tell Xena how she really felt, but not having the time.

"I love you too," said Xena, voice fading. "More than you will ever know. Please come for me ..."

It was the last thing she had time to say as her disobedient body went limp in the young woman’s arms.

Gabrielle felt the change and leant over, clutching the body close, rocking it. Slowly she straightened herself and looked up at the cold, uncaring sky and screamed her pain and anguish to the vast uncaring expanse of nature.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!"

She sat there for the longest time, grief stricken, looking down at the body of her closest friend and would be lover, memorising every facet of Xena’s features. Once alert and alive, sometimes shadowed, they were now were still and relaxed, so innocent, no longer troubled by the anguish of her life and the struggle to master her darker side.

Gradually, Gabrielle became aware of a soft glow surrounding the fallen body of her friend. The pale radiance gradually grew in intensity, cutting through the broken sobs of the bard, bathing her features in it’s gentle light, turning her tears to diamonds on her cheeks. It was now as intense as the noon day sun, Gabrielle feeling no discomfort as a sphere formed over Xena’s prostrate body. It hovered for an instant, then, with blinding speed, shot forward to sink squarely into the bard, before it was ripped out of her body by an unseen force, shooting upwards into flickering starlight of the peaceful sky.

Gabrielle’s distress transformed into a sense of wonder ... and heartfelt relief. The golden light that had touched her had been Xena’s soul, her last ditch effort to try and communicate with her friend. She had felt the fiery passion of Xena’s shared definitely unplatonic love, the profound strength of her essence. She had also felt Xena’s sinking despair that the Keeper of Souls had finally caught up with her, a wistful hope that the bard would not give up, and would be able to help her. Glimpses swung in and out of her conscious mind -- a centuries old bald Monk, young and strong, distant mountains, an old promise ... Gabrielle could not quite sort through the input.

Only two things were clear to her. First, Xena trusted her to bring her back from the dead, and second, she had to keep Xena’s body safe while she went and found the Seer Karmen. Resolve seeping into her, she prepared herself for action.

PART 2

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