Been made of stones representing each nation or tribe
I want to thank RenPic for temporary use of their characters, and once again my very capable beta reader Sinjen Kai.
Part 4
The Making Of a Legend:
Half of her small regiment was dead or badly wounded. The small village was burning to the ground around them. Most of the villagers were being led to safety, but still the losses were great; and they were outnumbered . . . badly outnumbered. 'A sane individual would call a retreat,' she argued with herself as she blocked yet another sword strike with her battered staff. However, Gabrielle knew that this was not a battle in which she could call a retreat. She saw it now for the trap that it was. Reports had reached the Amazons that a small group of Hope's thugs were preparing an attack on the small village. Gabrielle and a small band of warriors had arrived to find a fully formed battalion, waiting to take the offensive.
She knew it was a crazy move, but she made the decision to press forward. Her heart warred over it with her head, as she was ever aware of the number of lives she was responsible for: men and women who had agreed to fight beside her, albeit reluctantly. Making a stand there would determine her strength to her enemies and would-be allies. This day was going to be her coming-out of sorts. She knew people would be skeptical of her ability to lead. She had met with a great deal of resistance when she had first tried to talk the villagers out of surrendering under her daughter's threat. Gabrielle's adversity to killing was widely known and so her stamina for the task was greatly doubted. And then there were those who knew Hope's identity as her daughter.
They were worried about where the bard who would-be warlord's allegiance truly lay. She did not fault them for the caution. Her scrolls were well known. There was no secret of her great mistake that had led to Xena's only son's death, or of her betrayal of Xena in the land of Chin. It 'did' annoy her because it meant the caution of possible future allies meant further delay of Greece's preparedness for the Dark God's army, which steadily grew in numbers.
On that day a new legend was born. A new legend of Gabrielle, Golden Bard, Amazon Bard of Potaedia. There were numerous titles for her across the lands of Greece, Britannia, and Rome. Some not so flattering, she knew. But none that had instilled her with such fear as the new title Greece would come to know.
At some point during the battle, Gabrielle felt a shift within her being and everything slowed down. The screams of pain and battle yells took on a strange distorted sound: as though she were hearing it all from a great distance. All around her, blood flowed, spilling to the ground and she could hear it, like wine being spilled from a cask. She could hear a cacophony of drumbeats and she knew it to be the heartbeats of those on the field about her. Shling! Kshling! Clang! Her ears twitched slightly at the sound of steel striking and sliding against steel. Soft grunts and cries of pain when steel met flesh.
Her staff was lifted in front of her instinctively as another sword bore down for a slashing blow. She stopped the advance, no longer jarred by the impact. She swiveled the her weapon slightly, knocking the sword from her attacker's hand and then sent him flying backwards with a jab in the chest from the end of her staff.
During the heat of battle, she looked around to find her men falling back. She mourned the absence of the Amazons. She had sent most of them ahead to Corinth to meet up with Hercules. She had kept only a handful of the Amazons with her. They were young and untried and fought beside their queen with diligence, but fear: Many looking desperately to her awaiting for her to call a merciful retreat.
Gabrielle clutched her staff tightly in her hands. The last reminder of her days of innocence. She had been fighting with the weapon up to that point, desperately trying to hold on to the last vestiges that had made her Gabrielle, Bard of Potaedia: The Bringer of Peace. She was going to change the world with messages of love, not violence. Dahak's temple had changed that. She had known even then that her encounter with the evil One God had set her on a different path. Somewhere inside of her, she had been fearfully aware that the one instance of her lost blood innocence would find her taking a life again. And she had done just that, and willingly, the first time she had killed Hope, and then again on her second attempt on her daughter's life. Gabrielle had wanted to believe that she could reclaim her innocence, that she wouldn't cave in to the violence in the world, that she could still be the messenger of love; and now was her moment of decision. It was time to tell the world who she was. Her heart ached with heaviness of choices. More than anything she wanted her warrior beside her: to shield her and protect her from the inevitable. Xena was gone. Ephiny was in Corinth with Hercules; and there was not one person among Gabrielle's small army that was strong enough to share the burden of her pain.
She released a scream of anguish and with an inhuman and powerful blow, she crushed the head of the nearest assailant and grabbed up his sword. Her voice cried out over the mayhem, "Stand . . . your . . . ground!" Her men and her Amazons stared at her with disbelief, thinking she meant to lead them all to their deaths and then they watched as this slip of a girl did the impossible. Gabrielle was plowing through the enemy line, her sword cutting the enemy down as she went. She was rushed on her right and left. She thrust her sword skewering the man on her right and grabbed her attacker on the left by the throat and with her bare hand crushed his larynx and hurled him a great distance into another enemy soldier. "Stand your ground!" She cried out again. She had in that moment become an impossibly indomitable force and with renewed vigor and zeal, they followed her, pressing onward and overwhelming the enemy. They had won and Gabrielle lost more than they would ever know. Gabrielle's first battle ended in bitter triumph. Victory always comes at a costly price.
She stared at the death and destruction around her. Potaedia lay in ruins. 'Small victory,' She thought bitterly to herself, although she knew strategically the win was a great one. She hadn't heard the chants at first, nor did she know why they had chosen that word. Suddenly grief and the horrid memories of that dark god's temple seized her. She hid it; buried it deep. She stared up incredulously at the crowd gathered around her, uncertain what she was hearing. She cringed inwardly as the vision of the demon faced Kraftstar sprang up before her.
"Gabrielle! Gabrielle! The Deliverer! Deliverer! The Deliverer!" The roaring in her head became louder and louder. For a brief moment, hysteria threatened to overtake her and send her shrieking and running like a mad woman to escape the press of the crowd: To escape that damnable name. But she remained rooted to the spot and like all great leaders she accepted the role they would have her play. She held up her enemy's sword, the sword she had turned against them and cut them down with. She waved it over her head and flung it to towards the battlefield.
She said a few words, praising the bravery of those who had fought beside her and said a few words over their fallen comrades. Another cheer went up when she was done, but if truth were known, Gabrielle was in such a state of shock, she couldn't remember what she'd said to those people and she never would. She quieted them down with the promise of speaking to them again later. "For now, see to our wounded. Check our dead and the extent of the damage to the village. I want a full report in two candle marks."
Left alone, she cast weary eyes over the sea of bodies covering fields that had once nurtured crops. The blood of adversary and ally seeped into the ground and mingled. In death, enemies become brothers. Her nostrils flared in revulsion at the smell of blood that drenched her leathers and covered her hands. A sharp pang of hunger twisted her gut and she fought it down with willful determination that the monster that had been awakened within would not take control. The inner struggle left her drained and wearied; but the monster was caged for the moment. "All in all . . ." She closed her eyes, somehow knowing what the Warrior Princess would have said. "It was a good day of fighting."
Like Mother. Like . . . Child?
"It was a good day of fighting." She repeated the phrase to herself and took a deep breath. It was time to go find her parents and her sister, though she wasn't sure she would be able to face them.
"Find yourself unsuited for war, Mother?" Gabrielle froze at the sound of her own voice coming from behind her. "I must admit that I was very surprised to see none other than my very own Mom leading these mortals to their first victory."
Gabrielle squared her shoulders and turned slowly. She had expected a visit sooner or later. However, this was a projection of Hope, a slightly transparent apparition. Apparently her daughter wasn't quite ready for a full confrontation yet. "Seems we have something else in common." When Gabrielle raised a brow in question, Hope gestured at the body-littered battlefield with a smirk. Gabrielle was unsettled at having her likeness reflected back at her.
"I see you kept the face." She looked Hope over, noting the girl was still wearing the BGSB and the Amazon training skirt. Hope chuckled at her mother's annoyance.
"Well, what girl doesn't want to be like her Mama?" She quipped. "And it seems we're more alike than even I imagined." Gabrielle's eyes hardened at the gibe. "So how are you, Mother?"
"Alive."
"Yesss." Hope tilted her head to the side "And you never did thank me for that, did you?" She smiled evilly. "The fire was nearly unbearable for you, wasn't it Mother? And such a nasty little drop." She leaned on the Amazon fighting staff; it was useless to her as a weapon. Still, she liked it as a prop. "I suppose a thank you is a bit much to ask, isn't it."
"Hope, you may have gotten me out of that fire pit, but then you went after my family," Gabrielle reminded her calmly. Hope's eyes flashed with rage.
"And this, coming from you! Oh, Paragon of Virtue." Hopes voice dropped to a nasty hiss. " You abandoned your child, Mother. Lied to your friend, which eventually led to her son's death. You deliberately set her up for execution in Chin. You killed your own daughter. Three times! And killed my son, 'your' grandson, Mother." Hope shook her head feigning a troubled look. "Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. I don't know about you Mom, but I see a disturbing pattern developing."
"What do you want, Hope?" S(s)he asked flatly, refusing to let the Spawn of Dahak rattle her.
"I'm surprised you don't know," Hope laughed harshly. "You should know the spiel by now. Total world domination, destruction, and mayhem. Yadda. Yadda. Yadda."
"Aside from the obvious?" Gabrielle asked dryly. Hope walked a slow circle around her mother, taking in the new look the woman sported.
"You know Mother." She stopped directly in front of her and leaned her weight once more on the staff. "It pains me that you and I never got to bond properly." She tilted her head back in a mimicking gesture, scratching lightly at her neck with blunt nails. "You know, Mother, the kind of bonding that forms from years of nurturing and longevity . . ." Hope smiled nastily. "But then you gave that up for her, didn't you?" Her voice hardened with the accusation. Her eyes glinted once again with anger. "Your perfect Warrior Bitch." She glanced around as though curious. "So tell me, Mother," She winked conspiratorially. "Where is she? I thought by now she'd have you spirited away to some safe hideaway by now. I figured it would be the Bitch or Zeus' half-breed that I would be meeting out here today. Buuut . . ." She giggled like a schoolgirl. "I can't say I'm not pleased, after all, if you're calling the shots now. Well, isn't it fitting that when the moment of my greatest triumph arrives it will be at the moment of my mother's greatest defeat?"
She took in her mother's hard expression. "Still if Xena's not here beside you," Hope swayed coyly. Her eyelashes brushed her cheeks in a demure fashion. "Why that could only mean . . . She's left you, hasn't she?" Gabrielle felt the sting of that question and Hope knew it. "What happened Mother? She lose her nerve? Decide you weren't worth the trouble? Why don't you tell me where it hurts?" She ended the last with a malignant snarl. Her lips curled up in a vicious arc. When Gabrielle failed to respond, Hope continued. "But then you don't have a heart to hurt, do you Mother? You didn't hesitate to take the life of your own child, did you?"
"Unfortunately. You don't know how to take the hint." Gabrielle crossed her arms over her chest.
"Well, now you get another crack at it." Hope grinned playfully.
"And maybe this time Hope, you'll get the message . . . and 'stay' dead."
"Isn't this a hoot? That we should be standing here like this face-to-face. It's like your past taunting you isn't it? Here I am the reflection of you in your youthful naiveté and pure spirit. Kind of gets you . . ." Hope smacked her chest. "Right here doesn't it?" She gave her mother an appreciative once over. But I have to admit I like the new look on you. It's so worldly, mature. That wide-eyed innocence is gone. Hardship agrees with you."
"You should try it sometime. It builds character."
"You know what would be a riot?" Hope chose to ignore that last statement. "I could just make myself over again. Look as you do now. Bet that would confuse them." She chuckled. Gabrielle smiled; she had almost expected her daughter to do just that.
"Umm, a bit over done. Don't you think?"
"Oh, don't worry Mother. Though I do find your look appealing, it really is a bit too butch for me. Don't you think?" Gabrielle's brows shot up and her lip twitched.
"You never did answer that question."
"Oh really." The apparition started fading slowly. "I'm here for you."
"You mean revenge." Gabrielle amended.
"No. Now you see, that's where you and I are different. I didn't come here to kill you, Mother." Hope pretended to pout. "I'm here to bring you home." Gabrielle stiffened at the meaning behind those words. "Oh and Mother, we're very eager to welcome you into the family."
"Hope," Gabrielle shook her head becoming impatient with her daughter. "I already have a family."
"Well," Hope feigned and apologetic smile. "You 'did' have a family."
"Hope!" Gabrielle's heart stilled. "What have you done?"
You know Mother, You have a saying here in your world." Hope sighed thoughtfully. "Let's see how does it go . . . Oh yes, the dead can hear your thoughts." She smiled broadly as her message sank into Gabrielle's rebelling mind. "That being the case, give my regards to Auntie Lila and the grandparents. They were so nice when last we met."
"Oh Gods!" Gabrielle was running with Hope's laughter echoing behind her. Terror gripped her soul and her blood was turning cold in her veins. "Oh Gods! Mother. Father. Lila!" Partly blinded by tears of fear and apprehension, Gabrielle stood outside the mouth of the cave the villagers had been secreted away in. there was a twisting sensation in her gut as she forced herself towards the entrance. With each small step she prayed that her daughter had only been toying with her. But her heart knew the truth "You are a monster Hope! And I will kill you. I swear by the Gods, if you've harmed them, you will die!" Brushing aside the foliage and branches that hid the opening to the cave, The Deliverer took a deep breath and stepped in.
Deadly Playmates
Almost 2 springs later
Powerful shoulders flexed and arms lined with muscle and bulging veins tensed as the broad sword was raised for an upward slash. The enemy's face contorted with horror at the realization that his sword arm had been severed from his body. A hearty laugh erupted from the dark skinned warrior as the wounded soldier ran screaming into the thick fog settling about the field. Draco spun about quickly a smile of mirth still on his lips as the man rushing him impaled himself on the large sword. Dark brown eyes were alive with fire as he glanced across the field at Gabrielle who met his gaze with a quick wolfish grin. Her fangs had distended and her eyes were glowing. Draco sucked in a sharp breath. "Gods, I want her," He growled with frustration, and swung his sword instinctively, severing the head of the next attacker as he fought his way over to her side.
She was amused by his efforts, the Bacchae side of her having taken firm hold of her for the time. She felt the lunge directed at her and batted it away easily with her gauntlet. Draco flipped over the four men advancing upon him to land gracefully on one knee at Gabrielle's feet. Bacchus' daughter in turn lifted her weapon to block the sword coming straight down upon his skull. She winked at the ex-warlord and Draco laughed again as she delivered a powerful blow to the assailant. There was a yelp of surprise and then moments later a loud thud as the woman hit the ground. "Took your time getting here," She teased him and extended a hand to help him to his feet. Her voice was low and nearly guttural.
"As you can see," he gestured at the ambush party which had wisely decided to retreat, "I was unavoidably detained." They were both laughing as they clasped forearms. "It's good to see you."
"Someone had to save your sorry hide," she joked. She swept her black leather cape aside and re-sheathed her sword at her hip. This was a new addition to her wardrobe, and he liked it. The deep green lining of the cape was an attractive compliment to the forest green leathers she wore. " I had a feeling Hope would send out her own little reception party."
"Careful." He slapped her playfully on the back. "I might start to think you care."
"I could remind you again of where we stand." She offered jestingly.
"Ouch!" he patted the healed left arm that she had broken just last Winter. "I got the message." He chuckled. "Friends." She nodded then cast a surreptitious glance about their surroundings.
"Come on we're exposed out in the open like this, and with that fog rolling in on us like it is. I don't want my daughter getting any ideas about sending out more surprises."
"What are you complaining about? At least you can see in this mess." He shook his head and grinned. "All I can see is your eyes."
"Then we best get moving eh?" She grabbed his hand. "Stick close."
"Not a problem."
"Not that close!" she growled and elbowed him.
"Ow!" He rubbed his ribs with his left hand as he put some breathing space between them.
Back at the camp Gabrielle and Draco were greeted by Ephiny and Tien Su and escorted to the conference hut. Taking a seat at the head of the long hard wood table Gabrielle had an attendant move the maps and battle plans aside then gestured for the others present to seat themselves as well.
Draco spared Hercules a grudging nod before smugly taking a seat to the left of Gabrielle.
Shaking his head and rolling his eyes disapprovingly, the son of Zeus sat across the table from the ex-warlord and resolved to keep from strangling him. He placed little trust in the dark man. And he didn't like the effect his presence had on the Deliverer. He could tell from her spectral pallor and slightly distended fangs that they had run into trouble just as Gabrielle had predicted. Her eyes were no longer glowing but there was a ring of yellow around the irises.
She should have made the full reversion back to her normal state by now. He glared once again at Draco. His presence tended to have this effect on her. It was as if the darkness that tainted the man's soul drew out the feral creature within her. Once everyone was seated in their respective places, Gabrielle turned her attention to Draco.
"What's the news?" She asked him expectantly, her voice still tinged with a slightly inhuman quality. He winked at her then reached into his sleeve and retrieved two rolled up pieces parchment and handed them to her. She immediately recognized the two seals. Upon close inspection she found no evidence of tampering.
"My friends," she cast a glance upon each person present. "I believe we've managed to get someone's attention." She removed the ribbons from both parchments and broke the seals. Scanning both documents carefully, she smiled with pleasure. "Oh, we definitely got their attention." Her smile broadened and she handed the scrolls to Yakut seated to her right. The shamaness read them out loud to the gathering.
Ephiny and Tien Su cast worried sidelong glances at one another. Gabrielle was inviting deadly playmates to join in on her team. They hoped their Queen was completely sure what she was about.
Strange Bed Mates:
Muscles aching deliciously from the previous day's little excursion and the previous night's pleasurable activity, 'Never a dull moment with Draco around,' Gabrielle stretched slowly, tensing and relaxing those muscles, sighing happily when she felt her joints realigning themselves properly. Her body had taken quite a beating in this war, still she felt none the worse for it. She had learned early on the trick had nothing to do with not feeling the pain. The trick was not to mind it. She remembered watching Xena in battle and how the warrior seemed to just shake off the blows and continue. It had always left Gabrielle in awe and wondering how the warrior was able to just keep going. "Now I know." Her mood took a dark turn at the thought of the Warrior Princess. She took a deep breath and expelled the picture of the dark warrioress from her mind. The large hand resting on the flat of her stomach began moving in slow circles as though seeking to soothe away the sudden tension.
Her eyes peered down at the giant hand, then moved upward past the tightly corded forearm and continued their slow perusal up to powerful biceps and a shoulder. That arm alone easily made two and a half of her own. Her eyes continued their journey upward until they met with brown eyes that glowed with warmth and affection. "Didn't expect you to still be here." It was a question. She had been curious when she had awakened and found him still pressed close against her.
"Hardly an appropriate greeting." His deep voice teased as he leaned over her; long brown hair tickled her shoulder. "I don't want to set out for another four days. Yesterday took a lot out of my men." He explained softly. "I want to make sure the men are rested enough before I march them out." She nodded quietly feeling unsettled by his close scrutiny of her face. She knew what he wanted to ask. It was the same question that was always in his mind since this new development in their friendship. She also knew he wouldn't risk bringing 'her' up. He sighed and allowed his mind to take a different route as his eyes raked over naked flesh appreciatively. "And besides that." He chuckled. "You don't give a man incentive to leave." She smiled helplessly at his teasing. Those genuine smiles were rare and he was grateful to be one of the few who could still evoke them. For a moment he was reminded of the gentle natured bard he had first met and grudgingly came to admire. And his heart squeezed tightly at what this war had done to her, was doing to her, to them both. He shut his eyes tightly as the ache of loss washed over him. Gabrielle watched him with detached curiosity. She couldn't afford to follow him there to that place of mourning that often called to him unexpectedly.
Hercules dropped his head to her shoulder, his hand moved down her tight abdomen, then journeyed further downward to cup her sex . . . Her breath hitched. He made no further move, just allowed the heat of her aroused sex to press against his palm. He'd been surprised their friendship had progressed to this point. It had been right after the battle of Corpus.
The death toll had been great and the battle had gone on for days with seemingly no end. He and The Deliverer had fought side-by-side, back-to-back. Their rhythm had been near perfectly matched, but even they were beginning to tire from the strain. But things were turning in their favor and Radscund, Hope's General leading the enemy assault had suddenly called for a retreat. They chased them as far as they dared and had successfully driven them off.
The cheer that had gone up had been frenzied. Death lay around them and the wounded lay on the ground, some screaming in agony, others moaning pitifully. Hercules had turned to meet the eyes of his friend, only to find her emerald eyes glowing sharp piercing amber. Her fangs extended slightly. He had been powerless to move when she had approached him. Grabbing the front of his vest roughly, she tugged until his head lowered to level with her own. She moved her right hand to the back of his head, grabbing a fist full of hair and roughly pulled him forward until their lips met. She had pulled away abruptly leaving him gasping for breath and stunned into silence. "Later." She growled in his ear and then had disappeared in the fray of soldiers. That had been over six moons ago. 'She's changed so drastically since the Warrior Princess left.'
Hercules prayed the Xena would come to her senses soon. He feared for the ex-bard.
Gabrielle lifted a small hand to his coarse stubbled cheek. He had offered to shave, worried about chafing her. She had stopped him. It was perhaps a morbid pleasure, but she enjoyed the rough friction against her thighs when he took her into his mouth and the coarseness of his chin against her sex. She looked down at the top of his head. He was a good lover. Gentle . . . a bit too gentle at times for her liking; but still she found their rare encounters pleasant.
He raised his head from her shoulders and met her eyes squarely, the hand cupping her, applied pressure. The look in his eyes was request for permission. She read desire in his gaze, but looking deeper she found something else, a haunting sadness. Honor warred with the pleasurable sensations his hand was creating. But Gabrielle won out this time overriding The Deliverer's wishes. She reached down and stilled his hand. "Let's go down to the river for a bath and a swim." He studied her for a moment longer, then smiled and nodded his assent.
"Sounds good. I'd enjoy that?" He rolled to the edge of his side of the bedding and onto his feet. The Deliverer's eyes raked over him lustfully and he grinned broadly at her as his dark eyes glinted with arousal. She moved to her knees and crawled the expanse of the bed, closing the distance between them. Her shorn blonde hair fell forward slightly hiding her face. She was drawn by the scent of her sex on him. She nuzzled his thigh with her cheek, and then nipped playfully at him.
She glanced up at his face satisfied by the tightly closed eyes and labored breathing. She was tempted. His clenched hands at his side, lessening her resolve to go for that swim. Oh, she was very tempted . . . but the insistent voice of the bard nagged at her furiously. He's a friend. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah! She growled in frustration. I know. I know. Honor before passion. "Come on Big Guy!" She growled roughly. "Get dressed. There's a river waiting for us."
And hopefully it will be cold.
Hercules followed Gabrielle through the large compound as she made her brief rounds on their way to the river. Soldiers and Amazons alike stood rigidly and proudly at attention as The Deliverer passed. Gabrielle nodded respectfully at each, seemingly unaffected by their reverence. After near two summers, and more battles than she cared to count, she was far from the Gabrielle of old, but still she took personal interest in her warriors. Stopping to check on the wounded, delivering praise for a battle well fought, each person beaming under, yet intimidated by her attention.
He spotted Draco giving instruction to a few men. The two pairs of brown eyes locked onto one another with animosity born of jealousy and distrust. Draco's eyes narrowed and Hercules responded in kind, both men sending a silent message to each other. 'Some other time.'
The river was refreshing.
These peaceful times together were drawing to an end. Gabrielle would not allow herself to get too comfortable with Hercules in her bed. The Big Guy knew that no matter how much Gabrielle wanted to deny it, she still ached for Xena. Yet at the moment they were unconcerned with this. They sat together on the riverbank, allowing the sun to warm and dry them. Gabrielle reached behind her for the red bandana Hercules always wore tied to the side of his breeches. It had belonged to Iolaus She held it sliding it between her fingers allowing memories of her charismatic friend to bring a sad smile to her lips.
Iolaus had begun wearing the Bandana around his head after having been captivated by a pirate at the Port of Callum, just south of Pagasae. She glanced at the Big Guy to find his eyes riveted to the bandana in her hands. His eyes brimming with unshed tears. Iolaus had always sported his new pirate look for battle. His comrades had begun calling him, Warrior Pirate. He took their ribbing good-naturedly. He swore the Bandana brought him luck. He hadn't been wearing it that day. It had been the bloodiest battle yet: one that had ended in both armies calling a retreat. The battle of Tricca. Both sides had suffered great losses. The tragedy of war at its most monstrous. There had been bodies so brutalized, there was no way to recognize them. Heads had lain severed from their bodies. Limbs strewn haphazardly about: separated from their owners.
Gabrielle's heart and soul had been nearly swallowed up in grief at the unbelievable number of bodies that had blanketed the ground. She'd lost so many friends, old and new, the fierce and graceful regent Chilapa, dear proud and willful Amarice. But Iolaus . . . Oh gods. Gentle hearted Iolaus. A soft deep sob brought her mind back to the present. Hercules dropped his head forward covering his face with his hands.
"I loved him." He whispered hoarsely. She pressed the bandana between his fingers and he clutched it like a lifeline, his heart breaking all over again. "Iolaus!" He spoke the name and softly wept. Gabrielle pulled his head down until it rested on her lap. She cradled him that was, rocking him like a child and allowing him to grieve. Her heart pitched sorrowfully, but she would never be allowed this luxury. To grieve like this over all that she had lost, all that she had become. Surely the pain would destroy her. Her voice reached out to Hercules through his thick fog of anguish.
"The den of war arises against us,And would make Gods and Monsters of us all.
And those we lose along the way,
We supplicate, the Fates be kind
Reunite our souls in the ever after
And in each incarnate."
She had known all along why the charismatic blond warrior had not worn his good luck charm into battle. Iolaus had not been wearing the bandana that day because he had slipped it into a loop on the side of Hercules breeches after their night of passion, while the demigod had lain sleeping.
Iolaus had dreamed Hercules would die during this battle. It had shaken him and he had kept vigil over his lover that night, praying to whatever gods listened that his life be taken in Hercules stead. He'd spent that last night memorizing every detail of his gentle giant's face and body, waking him up in the early morning for a moment of tender passion before the battle.
He'd sought out Gabrielle before they were to set out to tell her what he'd done and what he knew would be his fate. Asking her promise that she would look after his lover, help him heal when he was ready. She had implored him to feign illness and keep from the battle. Her face had paled at the prospect of losing another loved one. She had nearly begged, but in the end, he had won out. "I've chosen my destiny."
He had smiled at her. "I don't regret my life, Gabrielle or who I loved. But if I steer from this course I've begun, I'll regret for all eternity." He looked at her then with bone-deep sorrow. "He's so much stronger than I am . . . I can't go on living without him. This is my selfishness. I'll die loving him, not grieving his death." And with that he marched to the front line, his golden hair whipping about like a lion's mane, and his blue eyes fierce with purpose and she had given the battle cry that had ended her friend's life.
"To war!"
To be continued in part 5
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