"One Last Breath"
by JLynn
Disclaimers:
Legal: The characters of Xena and Gabrielle are strictly the property of Renaissance Pictures, Universal, Rob Tapert and anyone else who has a legal stake in them. This piece of fiction is meant purely for entertainment purposes and no copyright infringement is intended.
Spoilers: This story takes place in the context of the “Ides of March” episode (Season 4) leading up to the final scene. If you haven’t seen that episode yet and don’t like spoilers, trust me; you won’t want to read this story.
Violence: Violence in the form of crucifixion is mentioned though not graphically described in this particular piece. For those who are sensitive to such things, I would suggest that you read elsewhere.
Subtext: I believe subtext is pretty much maintext these days, however, there’s nothing too overt here. Maybe in my next story if I get up the gumption to write another. You’ll have to let me know how I did with this one first.
Comments: Constructive and positive comments are welcome at jlynn2329@hotmail.com. Thank you so much for your time and interest in this, my first foray into fan fic. All rights reserved; please do not copy, modify or otherwise mess with except with the author’s permission.
© February 2001
Inhale!
The upward motion is disorienting and she can only grit her teeth to brace herself as the cross falls into position, halting her forward motion abruptly and pulling brutally at the wounds in her hands.
Exhale!
The snow swirls and the cold wind bites at her skin with a thousand teeth as her body hangs with damaged dignity here in the courtyard. The voices of the Roman soldiers are thin on the air and she turns her head in spite of the wind to watch in pained silence as Gabrielle is hoisted as well.
Inhale...
Her heart lurches as a sound of agony is wrenched from her partner when the cross jerks to a stop. Her own body expresses mute empathy as the other woman initially sags and trembles with the shock. The nails puncturing Gabrielle’s hands and feet are ghastly to behold and she feels more for the bard than for herself.
...exhale...
The Romans below are laughing. They swagger and gesture, fully at ease now that the blonde witch is a threat no longer. Eyes made wet with wind and snow, pain and sadness turn to her friend. She watches as Gabrielle struggles now, each breath a gasp as her hands, clawed and malformed, attempt to pull free.
...inhale...
The nails are long and the rope tight, and the bard's efforts fade as Gabrielle realizes that her body cannot support her efforts. Breathing is hard enough. And Xena can appreciate that; feeling her own muscles tense with each in-drawn gasp. She has quickly discovered that the only way to breathe is to pull herself upright; a hard enough task for one whole and healthy to begin with…a challenge now for Xena even with all her considerable strength.
...exhale...
Gods, it is so hard to breathe. And she is so tired already. It is almost a blessing to feel nothing of her legs except a conspicuous deadweight pulling her downwards. Downwards into a darkness that seems to beckon and promise a respite from the suffering within which she finds herself imprisoned.
...inhale...
The will that has driven her for so many years prowls within her, demanding action, churning her mind through countless plans of escape. All of which flutter and die away when she finally, finally admits to the knowledge that, no matter how she tries, she cannot free herself.
.....exhale...
Gabrielle's labored breathing cuts at her soul and her eyes find the bard's. Their gaze speaks what their voices cannot as they save their breath for the tenuous struggle of living this; their final moment.
.....inhale...
She can't tell if it's the cold or the pain, or perhaps her impending death, but she feels a brilliant sense of clarity now. Her hands are quite numb, she thinks, and this is also a blessing of sorts. These hands, which have dealt death by the thousands, will finally be stilled and laid quiet.
.....exhale...
Even in the whirling snowfall she can see Gabrielle's eyes, eyes that look back at her with more love and devotion than she thought she could ever be worthy of. But somehow... somehow... she became that and more. And compared to all the deeds that Gabrielle might ever have chronicled, she feels that this one, this process of becoming something more than she could have imagined, of becoming something that should inspire such a look from another, is her greatest feat of all. It is true what they say, she decides; that all of one's life flashes before one’s eyes at the moment of one’s death.
.....inhale...
Cortese. Lyceus. Mother. Caesar. Lao Ma. Barias. Her armies. Ares. Corinth. Marcus. Cirron. Solan. The centaurs. Hercules. Callisto. Cecrops. Hope. Solan. Eli. And Gabrielle. The parade of faces seems endless. But always...
.....exhale...
Gabrielle. Every thought thereafter is filled with her, touched with her or by her, somehow. Even in the midst of her pain she cannot help but give her partner a warm, full smile. So much bittersweet emotion fills her heart she wonders if that won't kill her before Caesar's men do. It is so much...
.....inhale...
She must try.
"Gabrielle..."
Can she hear her voice? The wind whips the bard's hair about her face and Xena feels an intense longing to smooth it back, to stroke her cheek, and to wipe away the tears that fall with crystalline grace down her cold and pain-etched face. There. A smile - a small one - in return and the warrior knows that she has been heard.
...exhale...
"...Xena."
She has been heard. And answered.
.....inhale...
It is... a benediction. A warmth that outshines and shields her from this frigid cold that makes her shiver and groan. Would that she could express everything so eloquently in a single word. All her wishes. All her regrets. All her love. All the things she wishes she could have done... or never done at all.
.......exhale...
There is a look in Gabrielle's eyes that says she understands. This woman who, beyond all right or reason, has stood by her through it all and knows her better than she perhaps knows herself. And even when understanding has failed... there has always been acceptance.
.......inhale...
The wet and sticky blood from her palms has congealed and frozen, but truth be told she can hardly even feel her arms any longer. There is just the wind, and both their husking moans as they struggle to draw breath over and again.
...........exhale...
She blinks through snow-crusted eyelashes and shivers reflexively at a sudden, sharp gust of wind. So tired now. Looking over she watches helplessly as Gabrielle's fight grows weaker, her body unable to support itself upright enough to breathe properly. In this one and final battle Xena weeps inside that she cannot save her soulmate.
.............exhale...
Soulmates. Twined together for always. It is the only thing that she can hold onto in the sea of recrimination she feels for not keeping her bard safe. But she will see Gabrielle again. Somehow. Even through her near frozen lips she can feel herself give a wry smile because, after all, she has many skills and if anyone can, she will find a way.
...............inhale...
The clarity of the moment is fading into a warm and dream-like state, and she tries to fight the lassitude. Is it the light that is waning, or does she fade now as well? A welter of panic fills her at the thought of the coming night. Not so much for the cold and the chilling promise of death, but at the thought of being unable to see Gabrielle.
...............exhale...
Gabrielle. It is hard to raise her head now to look at her. The other woman's body gives minute twitches and shuddering sighs as the final moments wind down. Xena's breath catches as she watches the bard go slowly limp, the fair head lolling forward.
“No…”
.................inhale...
She sees Gabrielle roll her head to one side and gives a sigh of relief.
..................exhale...
How strange it is that they should struggle so when death would end this suffering. Human will? A desire to spit in Caesar’s eye? The unquenchable need to be together for as long as possible? Which of these drives them so? The last, certainly. And along with it the knowledge that, though they hold the undeniable truth of a continuation, would they be together during the intervening time? Which would it be? Tartarus or the Fields?
.....................inhale...
“Xena...”
Gabrielle is calling to her. She is light and fading, but at the sound of the bard’s voice she marshals her strength and lifts her head, focusing herself.
“I’m here.”
There is silence for a moment before the other woman responds.
“I can’t…” There is a sob… of frustration, of pain, of exhaustion. “Can’t do it…”
Her vision is blurring. The feel of her tears is stingingly hot on her frozen skin. Gods, how she longs to comfort her! To take her away from all of this. Make her safe once more.
........................exhale...
But she can. She can end this. With a compassion that Gabrielle herself taught her. It is at once simple and horrific to contemplate.
“It’s ok…” Inhale. “Let go.” Exhale.
“Xena.”
“Let go.” She modulates her voice to the confident strength Gabrielle is so used to hearing, tempering it with a gentle tenderness reserved only for her.
.........................inhale...
“Xena…” Gabrielle's voice is weak and thin, but there is something else to it now in the way the bard speaks her name. A sound of relief. Of apology. Of gratitude.
“I… love…”
She can feel her soul writhe with anguished grief as Gabrielle’s body goes limp, and the light of her world dies in the moment the bard’s eyes close for the last time. The pain of these last hours is slipping away leaving behind the look of peaceful innocence that she has always associated with her partner. Love you, too, her mind whispers, knowing for fact that Gabrielle will hear her. Wait for me. Wait for me.
........................exhale...
Minutes. Hours. Time holds no meaning for her. She is drifting now, no longer fighting the seeping cold that threatens her. If anything, she welcomes it, embraces this inevitable moment. So tired. So sleepy. So alone.
..........................inhale...
The wind feels softer against her skin. And it doesn't feel as cold as before. She lets her head fall forward, her eyes blinking slowly closed, anticipating the rest. The darkness is comforting and she lets herself fall into it. Death has long since ceased to be a stranger.
..............................exhale...
It won't be long, she reassures herself. Not long.
.......................................inhale...
Soft as a sigh upon the wind...
............................................exhale...
Just one...
...........................................................inhale...
last...
.....................................................................exhale...
breath.
Linus poked at the still form with his spear and gave a satisfied grunt when the form showed no response. Which was fine with him; the Greek whores had cost them no fewer than a dozen men in number. And now, finally, he and the others could go inside and get out of this gods-accursed weather and warm up by the fire.
With a slap on the shoulder he hastened his three fellows back towards the stronghold making crass jokes as they passed the cartload of bodies. The other two could wait until tomorrow. They certainly weren't going anywhere soon.
He paused at the doorway. A last glance over his shoulder revealed the two still figures, tinged blue and white from the winter weather and the coming darkness. A pair of damaged angels framed with snow.
Darkness. And within it a speck of growing light. Like waking from a dream, slowly, languidly. Awareness growing like the first rays of dawn. She is lifting, breathing, moving as if for the first time.
It is beautiful.
Her awareness is shifting, pulling to her right where a similar awareness is growing. She is reaching out to touch, to hold; giving in to the longing that has carried over, buoyed on the wellspring of joy that bubbles within. The pain and tears are gone… only the love remains.
Gently she cups Gabrielle’s face in her hands, lifting it slowly. She needs those eyes. And, as if in response to that need, Gabrielle’s eyes flutter open to meet hers. She answers with a smile and feels the bard’s hands clasp her own.
Light is everywhere. Xena can feel it fill her. And it does, like food, like music, like love. Rising, running over. She feels awash in the tangible caress of it.
Beholding the wonder in Gabrielle’s face, she knows that her soulmate feels it too. She smiles again because she knows that there is only one thing left to do...
Let go...
And in a flash of light… they are gone.
“We never die… because we were never really born.”
~ Gabrielle (Déjà Vu All Over Again)
fini