Pictures.

Timeline: Their first few months together.

Many thanks to Kamouraskan for the great insights and the moral support.

Hey, is ANYONE reading this?? Email me at: conductor22@hotmail.com.

I enjoy watching her as she rests, the firelight fluttering across her face alternately darkening and brightening her features. Gabrielle sleeps like a child, red-gold hair cascading around her head, the lines of sentience smoothed from her visage, slumbering deeply, unaware of her surroundings and wrapped in a cloak of trust. I wonder if she knows I study her while waiting for Morpheus to grant me release. Last to doze, first to awaken. There is no rest for me in his realm, haunted as I am by dreams of all the horror for which I am responsible. I simply move from one state of guilt to another.

She makes small sounds in her sleep, chuckles and snorts, and sometimes she even smiles. Occasionally she speaks, referring to her parents, sister, or others whom I assume to be friends or relatives. Her reveries are happy ones, and while I wish her no less, I can't help but be envious. What I would give for one night of peace.

My heart aches when I watch her rest, the light of the fire leaping about her features. Xena's sleep is disturbed. Her body twitches, and she frequently changes position. It's as though her mind can't rest. I wonder if she knows I watch her, not that I have done it that often. I am always first to enter Morpheus' realm, and she greets Apollo in the morning having already steeped tea and hunted breakfast; but sometimes I waken in the night to sounds of her moans and excited shouts, the skin around her eyes and mouth lined with emotion. I know she dreams of war and death. She occasionally mentions a name, her mother, brother, or an enemy she's faced in battle. Her nightmares are filled with fear and guilt, a punishment she feels she deserves, but I wish for her a night of pleasant illusions and peace.

It was almost five weeks since Gabrielle stood in the door of Cyrene's tavern and watched Xena disappear into the distance. While the warrior's mother was an excellent hostess, she simply was not as interesting as her ex-warlord daughter; and for her part, Gabrielle was getting both restless and concerned. She certainly had not decided to follow the warrior woman only to be left behind, and though she tried to fill her time by helping Cyrene around the inn and telling stories at night, she worried about Xena. She had been sent for by two kings, each requesting she take his side and join in battle against the other. Xena held both in high regard as honest, caring monarchs, and would not choose one above the other. She could only wonder what would cause two good men to harbor such animosity. Hoping to reconcile them, the warrior left Gabrielle in the safety of her mother's tavern and Amphipoles, and began her long journey.

It was quiet between noon meal and supper, the only sound the clink of washed mugs and dishes as Cyrene stacked them, and the bard began to think through the stories she would tell tonight. She would begin with two or three new ones, and then later as the effects of mead and ale dimmed minds, she would repeat a few of her favorites. She enjoyed that most for the patrons would listen intently and, whenever she reached a section particularly well liked, they would add their voices to her words and cheer or jeer in appropriate spots. Their interaction spurred her on to more powerful and moving words, and each story improved with its subsequent telling.

The calm was suddenly shattered by loud, excited voices. She glanced up briefly meeting Cyrene's eyes, and they hurried to the door. Gabrielle immediately recognized the voice of Amycus, father of two of the local children who sat many afternoons at her feet mesmerized by her words. He was frantically waving and shouting. While playing, his children wandered too close to the gold mines, and as they ran along a cliff, the edge collapsed leaving them stranded on a narrow ledge. He had tried sending a rope down, but they were both too young to tie a knot around them and too frightened to just hold on while being pulled. He could not rescue them alone.

Gabrielle and Cyrene joined a group of villagers and followed Amycus to the site. The ground near the rim was loose and threatened to collapse, so the bard dropped to the ground and slowly moved forward, finally extending her head over the side. She could see them about thirty feet below her.

"Hi," she smiled down at the children.

They lifted their heads to see her. Fear etched their faces. Kora clung nervously, but quietly, to the side, while her younger brother wept hysterically, squirming constantly on his weak, narrow foothold. The petite woman quickly assessed their predicament.

"Kora," Gabrielle's voice was calm and reassuring to the six-year-old, "do you think you can stay there just a few minutes longer?"

"Yes," the child answered, muffling a sob.

"Dardanus is very scared, so I'm going to come down and get him first. Once I have him up here, I'll come back down for you. Is that all right?" The bard's voice sounded as though she were requesting a stroll in the meadow, though her hands trembled at her sides.

The girl looked first at the four-year-old crying and calling for his parents, and then up to Gabrielle. "Yes."

"Good. Now I'm getting a rope just here by the cart, and I'll be right back."

"O.K.," Kora responded.

"I should do this," argued Amycus as the blond tied the rope around her waist. "This is dangerous."

"I don't think the edge will hold your weight, and I'm the lightest person here. Amycus," she rested her hand on his forearm, "it has to be me."

He took in the faces of the villagers around him, testing mentally for other options, but there were none. He sighed. "All right."

After tying the end of the rope to the wagon, she was slowly lowered. Gabrielle placed her feet carefully trying to cause as little disturbance to the ground as possible. Still the cliff face crumbled beneath her. Finally reaching Dardanus, she wrapped her arms firmly around him.

"It's all right. I'm here now. Put your arms and legs around me, and squeeze tightly."

Wiping tears from his face with his shirtsleeve, the boy did as told. The bard could feel his chest heaving as his lungs recovered from his intense sobbing. He pushed himself into her to the point she could barely breathe. When they reached the top, she gave a satisfied grin as she placed him in his mother's arms.

"Your turn now, Kora," she called to the girl and nodded to be lowered again.

Watching the child as she approached, she smiled and spoke assurances she would be there soon. Kora smiled in return, the fear easing from her features, but her ledge began to dissolve beneath her.

"Lower me faster!" Gabrielle shouted to the villagers above. "Hurry! It's giving way!"

Even as she descended, the bard reached downward, stretching body and arms to their maximum. The child reached up for her. Their fingers touched, and the ledge was gone.

She saw the surprise and terror in Kora's eyes as she plunged to the rocks below screaming Gabrielle's name. For a moment she froze, her mind unable to process what she had seen, and then her body went limp with shock. She was pulled up and felt hands under her arms, helping her stand. Someone tore at the knot to remove the rope from her. She stood and watched Amycus and his wife holding Dardanus between them, weeping.

Her eyes filling with tears, Cyrene placed a hand on the bard's shoulder. "Gabrielle, you did what you could," she whispered.

The blond turned to Xena's mother, a cold emptiness masking her face. "Not enough," she said. "It's never enough."

"Gabrielle." Cyrene hugged her and held her briefly. "Gabrielle, this is not your fault."

The bard walked stiffly back toward the village. "If only Xena had been here."

"Oh, child." Cyrene was filled with sympathy for the young woman. "There would've been nothing more she could've done. Believe that."

"Hello, Mother."

"Xena!" Cyrene yelped putting her hand over her heart. "Don't sneak up on me like that." She kissed her daughter's cheek and hugged her warmly.

"Mother, the door screeches like a harpy. I thought you heard me come in."

"I?I was just thinking. I guess I didn't hear you."

The warrior grinned. "Well, don't think so much. Someone could come in here, knock you out, and rob you." Her eyes wandered about the room. "Where's Gabrielle?"

"Sleeping, I hope."

"Sleeping? It's just late afternoon. She's not sick, is she?" Worry tinged her voice.

"No, Xena. Gabrielle hasn't been sleeping well. It's almost a week now."

"Gabrielle?" Xena chuckled. "We're talking about the same person here? You know, about five-four, reddish blond hair, talks a lot, Zeus' thunderbolts don't wake her?"

"Sit down, Xena. I'll get you a mug of ale."

"Okay, Mother, but the good stuff, not the one you serve the customers," she laughed.

"You're in a good mood, daughter. I gather things went well." She placed the ale in front of Xena.

"Yes. The trip was good. No problems there or back. And we managed to avoid a war."

"And you're back home with your friend, Gabrielle."

The warrior arched a brow at her mother, but she smiled. "And you, and Torres."

Cyrene placed a hand over her daughter's. "Xena, I need to tell you what happened while you were gone. There was an accident?."

Xena stood, and her mother had to grasp her arm to keep her from running toward the stairs.

"No, not Gabrielle. Two children got away from their parents out by the mines. They fell over one of the cliffs, but landed on a ledge. Xena, the whole cliff was about to fall. The soil was so loose."

"And Gabrielle?" Xena inquired in a get-to-the-point mode.

"She was the lightest person there, and she volunteered to retrieve the children. A little boy and girl. Amycus' children."

"Mother!"

"All right, Xena. She managed to get the boy, but when she went back for Kora," Cyrene's voice cracked, "the ledge broke before she could get to the child."

The warrior leaned against the back of her chair and momentarily closed her eyes.

"Oh, Gods," she groaned. "Gabrielle."

"I'm worried about her, Xena. She's never cried. She can't rest. She doesn't eat." She said the last with alarm in her voice.

Xena rested her arms on the table and examined her hands. "Should I send her home?"

"Ha! You and all the men in Amphipolis. She's not going anywhere without you." The mother caught her daughter's eyes and held them. "She missed you. She humored me, but she was bored and restless. Same characteristics as a certain blue-eyed brunette that hangs around here from time to time. And you, Warrior Daughter, would be lonely without her. Two people so different and so alike?" Cyrene shook her head.

"This winter was hard on her, Mother. We were cold and hungry. And even in good weather?the constant danger. That's no life for a bard."

"She's stronger than you think, Xena. Her heart. It's stronger even than yours."

Cyrene began lighting and placing candles around the tavern, and Xena went to her room. She put a chair next to the bed and sat in silence watching the bard sleep.

Reaching out, she brushed aside a wayward lock of hair, and softly touched the lines on her friend's forehead. Gabrielle's body trembled, and she gasped. The warrior sat back against the hard wood of the chair and allowed a few tears to trickle down her cheeks.

The bard moved fitfully on the bed, and then suddenly jerked upright. With the back of her hand, she wiped the sweat from her brow, and took deep breaths trying to slow her racing heart. There was the outline of a form seated in a chair next to the bed, and though the face was hidden in the dark, she knew who it was.

"Xena," she whispered into the night.

"Gabrielle," was softly echoed to her.

The bard sat on the edge of the bed and cleared her throat. "It's good to have you back," she croaked hoarsely.

Xena moved slightly forward, and her face left the shadows and was brightened by moonlight from the window. She studied her friend for a moment. "I missed you, too," she admitted.

Wonder flitted across the bard's face and for a moment, she was speechless. Clearing her throat again, she asked, "How did it go?"

"I told them I couldn't take sides against either of them as I considered both my friend. They demanded a choice, so I said if they insisted on behaving in such a manner, I'd simply have to raise an army and attack them both. And, of course, I'd win."

"You really told them that?"

Xena smirked and crossed her arms. "Yes, I did. Of course, I also managed to resolve the dispute. I found out Ares had been?"

"Ares! Xena, there are no gods!" she spat. "How can you believe that tripe? I always believed. I left offerings. Offerings! What a waste. I could have given that food to the hungry, and the dinars to the poor."

"Gabrielle?"

"I watched as a child plunged to her death, Xena."

Xena took in a long breath. The bard appeared frail and haggard, and the warrior didn't want to upset her more, but she was more comfortable with a sword than with words. "I know. I heard what happened?"

"If the gods do exist, they don't deserve to. They let that little girl die. I?I let her die."

"Blame the gods, Gabrielle, but not yourself. This wasn't your fault. It was an accident."

"If you'd have been here, you'd have saved her."

"How? How would I have saved her?"

"I don't know, but you'd have thought of something."

"I'm not all powerful, Gabrielle. I would have done what you did. And if you had taken the girl first, the boy would have died. Either way, a tragedy." Xena moved to the bed, and sat next to her friend.

Gabrielle turned to her, green orbs glistening with tears. "If you'd have seen her. She trusted me. She thought I was going to save her, and then the ledge?Oh, Xena, the look on her face as she fell. And my name. She shouted my name?"

Suddenly breaking into gasping sobs, the bard threw herself into the warrior's arms hanging on to her neck as though to life itself. Xena sat with arms outstretched feeling a definite wetness around her neck and chest. She wanted to comfort Gabrielle, but was at a loss as to what to do. Giving into some vague, basic instinct, and feeling decidedly uncomfortable, she wrapped her arms awkwardly around the young woman and allowed her to cry. After what seemed to Xena an eternity, Gabrielle's tears stopped, and she pulled away.

"You look exhausted."

"I haven't been getting much sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I see that child, and if I fall asleep, I dream about her. I'm so tired. I need to rest. Maybe, now, with you here, I?Xena?"

"Yes?"

"Xena, would?I know this sounds foolish, but?would you sleep with me tonight? I just feel better?safer?when you're close."

The lines on Xena's face relaxed, and her voice was filled with kindness. "Sure. I'm tired from the travel anyway, and there's still that chill in the air." She stripped down to her shift and eased onto the bed.

"You did good, Xena," Gabrielle commented, pulling the covers back for the warrior.

"You saved so many lives. Do you think that's how the gods balance it? One life for many?"

Xena pulled the blankets to her chin and snuggled in. "I don't know, Gabrielle. Some things we just don't understand." She looked at the ceiling, and realizing it for the first time, grinned. "Yeah, I did do good, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you did."

It must be pretty late. I don't hear voices coming from the tavern any more, and Xena's been asleep for a while. She looks so calm. Except for a few laughs, she hasn't said anything in her sleep, and her body's been still. No shouts, no twitches. How young she looks when the lines of life that mark her face have been smoothed away.

I know this one averted war won't win her a lifetime of restful slumber, but for tonight and however long it lasts, she sleeps in peace.

Finally, you rest, Gabrielle. What have I done to you? If you didn't travel with me, you'd be home safe in Potidaea tending your crops and not fishing children off ledges. I'm so afraid of being alone, of missing you, that I've even taken away your slumber. The dark circles around your eyes tell me you need it, yet when you do, you moan and twitch from your nightmares. In joining me, you expose yourself to whatever my struggle brings, and I can't shelter you from life. I only hope that one night you will once again sleep peacefully.