Now for a slightly different kind of warlord story....

Creative License

by Ella Quince

"Bring in the prisoner," growled the warlord.

Then, while waiting for her orders to be carried out, she paced impatiently in the tight confines of her field tent, stopping only when she heard the approaching sounds of muffled cursing and scuffling boots. By the time the guards had dragged a very noisy young woman into the tent and thrown her to the ground, the warlord had schooled her angular face into an impassive mask. Her body, however, was rigid with tension, adding an aura of menace to her already considerable height. Even her mane of hair, brushed into an ebony wave down her back, seemed to bristle with fury.

After a single glance upward, the prisoner's protests strangled into silence.

With slow deliberation, the warlord took note of the young woman's appearance: plump figure, worn skirt and faded blouse, a homely face framed by long, mousy blonde hair. She looked tired, and a little dusty, but otherwise hadn't suffered any harm at the hands of her captors.

The warlord dismissed the guards with a brusque gesture, her gaze still locked on her newly-won prize. Reaching down, she easily pulled the prisoner up onto her feet. Her calloused hand lingered on the young woman's wrist, then finally dropped away.

"So..." drawled the warlord, taking a polite step back from her captive, "you're Gabrielle, the bard from Poteidaia."

"Y-yes, that's me," said Gabrielle with a proud lift of her head. Unfortunately, her attempt at bravado was compromised by the slight trembling of her chin.

"I'm Xena... Warrior Princess. I think you've heard of me." The warlord's smile didn't reach the ice-blue of her eyes.

The prisoner nodded reluctantly, then flushed a deep, deep pink. "I... I... can explain."

"I don't want an explanation — I want you to stop."

"Stop? I can't stop! I'm a bard and those stories—"

"Those stories are making it very hard for me to do my job," said Xena, her mouth set in a grim line. "In fact, you're the worst threat I've ever faced."

"Me?" squeaked Gabrielle. She cleared her throat and continued at a more normal pitch. "But I'm... I'm just a wandering bard... you're a mighty—"

"Stop that!" roared Xena. "That's exactly what I'm talking about!" With a weary groan, she dropped down onto her camp bed. "All that 'mighty warrior' stuff — people are starting to take it seriously, for Hera's sake. At least once a month I get a challenge to my 'reputation.' Sometimes, if I'm lucky, that reputation works to my advantage — I've practiced that steely-eyed gaze you describe and it's scared a few combatants away before they even drew their blades."

"Really?" said Gabrielle, breaking into a delighted grin. Animation transformed her plain features into something approaching beauty. "That's great! I've always loved that look of—"

"BUT," cut in the warlord, "most of the time I have to fight them off."

"But you win!"

"Oh, yeah," said Xena with a harsh laugh. "There's nothing like having a few archers in the trees to keep the odds in my favor."

Gabrielle sank down onto a low bench across from the warlord. "You had them... shot?"

"Yes, little bard, I did. In the back, usually, so they wouldn't see the bolt coming."

"But how could you? That's not a fair fight!"

"If it was a fair fight," spat out Xena, "I'd be dead by now, because — your stories to the contrary — I'm not the best warrior in Greece. I'm not the best warrior in this gods-forsaken province. By Hades, I'm not even the best warrior among my own men."

A puzzled look crossed the young woman's face. "Then why do they follow you?"

Xena shrugged. "I'm a good administrator." She colored slightly at Gabrielle's incredulous look. "I can read — which most of them can't — and I'm very organized. I insist on a clean camp, with a decent cook, and I pay them on time. What most warlords don't understand about their armies is that soldiers get tired of life on the road, and little details, like having a comfortable place to take a crap, can forge more loyalty than epic conquests."

"Quality of life issues..." muttered Gabrielle pensively, then shook her head. "Nope, nope, I can't work with that. There's no drama in being a good administrator."

"Speaking of drama," said Xena in a peevish tone. "Every year you make my past bloodier and bloodier. That story about me impaling all those Amazons..." She shuddered. "Gave me the creeps. It's a damn good thing there aren't any Amazons near here or they'd have tracked me down and killed me for that massacre. And Hope and that Dahok demon gave me nightmares for weeks."

"Sorry about that," said Gabrielle contritely. "It's just that audiences expect so much from me now, and it was getting a little boring telling the same old tale about us traveling around Greece saving villagers from petty warlords."

"Is that why you had me drag you behind my horse?" demanded Xena. "Because you thought it was exciting? If I'd really done something like that — and you'd lived, which is highly unlikely — you should have run away from me! Fast! Instead you're still hanging around, business as usual." She shook her head. "That doesn't make any sense at all, dramatic or otherwise."

"I was getting to it!" said Gabrielle hotly. "I drafted this really wrenching reconciliation story, where we worked out all our problems..."

"And?"

"Well, it was too touchy-feely for the tavern crowds, so I shelved it for the next festival, and then never got back to it because I was working on another travel arc."

"To India?" asked Xena.

"Hey, you really do keep up! That's my newest material."

"I've never been to India," said Xena, a trifle wistfully. "Or C'hin..."

She drew herself up, assuming a commanding air that was completely at odds with her next words. "In fact, I haven't done any of the things you claim I've done. So, bard, I can't help but wonder — why me?"

Gabrielle remained silent, her expression suddenly blank and unreadable. She really was plain looking, thought Xena, when she wasn't smiling. "Hey, come on, Gabrielle. You owe me."

"All right, all right." The young woman's voice was low, but melodious, as she explained. "A few years ago you rode into Poteidaia to barter for supplies for your men and...." she took a deep breath, "and you were the most amazing woman I'd ever seen. I wanted to follow you and learn to be a warrior just like you." Her face took on a pinched look. "Only I was too scared. I stayed in Poteidaia, dreaming, always just dreaming, about the life I could've had if I'd been brave enough to try. After awhile I began to tell other people my fantasies about that life — and they loved them. Sooo... I just kept elaborating on Xena and Gabrielle's adventures together. Travelers assumed I was a bard, talking about my real experiences with the Warrior Princess, and the tips got better and better. The next thing I knew, I could afford to leave Poteidaia and make a decent living traveling from town to town... and I owe it all you," she finished in a whisper.

"That's...uh...." Xena cleared her throat, "that's very flattering... but I'm not like your warrior princess. I'm not the least bit... dramatic."

Gabrielle smiled, and Xena observed once again that surprising transformation of the bard's features from plain to beautiful. "Actually, I'm not that disappointed. The Xena I've created for my stories would probably be a little too intimidating, unless I was as fearless as the Gabrielle of my stories... which I'm not. In fact, you're a much nicer warlord than I expected."

"That's probably because I'm not a very successful warlord," sighed Xena. "I get by, but not much more than that. And now, because of all those tales of yours, towns are starting to expect my army to help them with problems rather than conquer them."

"Oh, but that's wonderful!"

"Mostly they need a hand with road construction or plumbing; sometimes we save a harvest from the ravages of an early frost."

Gabrielle looked a little crestfallen. "Those quality of life issues again. What is it with people? Everyone insists on being so... mundane. That's why I take a little creative license with my plotlines."

The warlord scowled darkly. "Like implying I've bedded half the warriors in Greece? As if. Just for the record, the ones who aren't sleeping with other men would rather bed a tavern wench who wears homespun linen instead of leather. All this," she waved a hand at her leather and armor, "is equipment. If soldiers thought it was sexy they'd be too distracted to survive their first battle."

"Interesting point. That never occurred to me. I just figured, since you're so beautiful—"

"Which reminds me," said Xena gruffly. "That's another one of those rumors that's making my life difficult. Everyone thinks we're a couple, so they get indignant if I'm too friendly with the locals."

"I didn't start that rumor," said Gabrielle hastily. "It was other bards who just sort of... assumed... and then they took my material and added these... twists to the narrative." She blushed and muttered, "Very inventive really... if you go in for that sort of thing." She peered up from beneath her bangs with a shy look of curiosity. "Do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Go in for... that kind of thing?"

The warlord swallowed hard, then said, "I move around a lot. Makes it kind of difficult to keep a relationship going."

"You haven't answered my question."

"In case you've forgotten," snapped Xena, "I'm the warlord and this is my interrogation. So stop changing the subject — which is you and your infernal stories!"

The bard cringed, her shoulders hunching as if to deflect a blow, but she relaxed a little when she realized that Xena's fuming wasn't going to erupt into violence. "Funny, I never expected you to take much notice of me... or my stories... but if you did, I always hoped that you'd be... pleased." Her voice seemed to choke up for a moment. "Anyway, I'm really sorry I've caused you so much trouble, and I promise to stop now."

Oddly enough, Gabrielle's concession didn't appear to please the warlord.

"But how will you make money?"

"I'll work with some of my other characters, maybe Meg and Joxer."

"You'll starve," predicted Xena dourly.

"Okay, so they're not too popular, but I'll get by. After all, I can't continue with my Xena chronicles now that I know they're hurting you."

"Oh, it's not so bad as all that," said Xena uncomfortably. "Besides, even if you stop, all the other bards will keep on going. The damage has already been done, so I've given up expecting my life to return to normal."

"Then why did you have me abducted?"

Xena shrugged, her glance sliding away to study a shadowed corner of the tent. "Curiosity, I guess. Since we spent so much time together in your stories, I started to wonder what you were really like."

"Oh.... Well, as you can see for yourself, I took a little creative license with Gabrielle, too. I'm not brave and resourceful... or beautiful."

The warlord's gaze stole back to the young woman's face. "I'm not disappointed," said Xena softly. "You have the nicest smile I've ever seen.... and it takes courage to stand up to a warlord, even a battered old has-been like me."

"Is that how you see yourself?" asked Gabrielle, her brows drawing together in consternation. "Because as far as I'm concerned, you're still the most amazing woman I've ever met."

"You need to get around more," said Xena dryly.

The bard just smirked. "I get around plenty, thank you very much... enough to know what I want."

When Gabrielle leaned forward, an emotion resembling panic appeared in the warlord's eyes, but she held her ground. When their lips touched, Xena closed her eyes entirely. And when the kiss deepened, a low moan signaled her surrender to the bard.

"Ouch!" muttered Gabrielle, suddenly breaking away from their embrace. "That armor stuff is sharp."

"Sorry." Xena appeared quite flustered, although whether from the kiss or its abrupt interruption was unclear. "It's been a while since I've done this."

"We'd be more comfortable if you took off the metal parts," said Gabrielle firmly.

"Yes, yes, I suppose we would." But the warlord didn't move. In fact, she barely seemed able to breathe.

"Here," said the bard, her fingers gently tugging at a buckle. "Let me help."

With a mute nod, the warlord allowed herself to be disarmed. The bard fumbled a bit with the unfamiliar fastenings, but both of them were too distracted to notice. And by the time Gabrielle had slipped off Xena's breastplate, arm guards and bracers, they'd built up enough momentum to keep right on going.

"The warrior princess is a little better endowed than I am," confessed Xena, aware that the leathers she was pulling off had hidden her flat chest and bony build.

"That's okay," said Gabrielle, stripping her blouse up over her head. "I have enough wealth for the two of us."

"And so you do," whispered the warlord in awestruck appreciation of the bard's generous figure. The renowned washboard abs were nowhere to be seen, but Xena didn't mourn their absence. When she laid Gabrielle down on the cot and covered the bard's body with her own, Xena felt as if she was sinking into two feather pillows, and it was the most exquisite sensation she'd experienced in years.

Gabrielle's arms circled Xena's neck, drawing her close for yet another burning kiss. When the bard finally let go, they were both rather breathless. "I've always wanted to be ravished by a warlord."

"I could have sworn," murmured Xena, as insistent hands worked their way down her back, "that I was the one being ravished."

"Ravished by a bard...." Gabrielle shook her head. "Nope, no dramatic potential there."

"Speak for yourself," said Xena with an appreciative moan as those sure hands reached their goal.

They didn't bother with coherent conversation beyond that point. So it wasn't until much later, after they had collapsed into a companionable tangle of limbs, that Gabrielle said, "I've been thinking about our problem."

"What problem is that?" asked Xena, nuzzling the bard's hair. By candlelight, it had the reddish highlights she'd always imagined to be Gabrielle's color.

"The problem of all those combat challenges and the need for you to keep a lower profile."

"I can take them on," muttered the warlord, before breaking into a wide yawn. "Kill 'em all."

"Down, tiger," said the bard with an indulgent chuckle. "You don't need to prove anything to me. No, I think the time has come for the Warrior Princess to retire. It would feel... weird making up new stories about Xena. You're too real for me to use as inspiration anymore."

"So what's your plan?" Xena's voice was slurred with drowsiness.

"A spectacular, gore-strewn farewell for the Warrior Princess. Lots of fighting and dismemberment. I can even off a few Amazons for good measure. Maybe work in a crucifixion. Yeah, that would be an awesome way for her to die."

Xena grimaced, encroaching slumber pushed back by her queasy contemplation of the bard's scenario. "You have the most morbid imagination."

"Oh, no — this is going to be an epic love story. I'll kill myself off, too. Trust me, this can work."

"And then what?"

"I suppose I'll create another hero, a woman who does something different. Like fighting bacchae instead of warlords. Yes, that's the ticket! I bet I could dine out for weeks on the opening story alone."

"Yeah... yeah, I suppose you could...." Xena propped herself up on one elbow and studied the bard lying beside her. For two such very different-looking women, they fit together remarkably well on the narrow cot. "You know," she said, with a rather poor attempt at nonchalance, "now that my army isn't doing very much looting and pillaging, the men get kind of bored at night. It would raise morale if I hired a bard to entertain them."

"Really?" Unlike the warlord, Gabrielle managed a quite convincing casual tone, but then she'd had a lot of practice on stage. "Just how long could you use the services of this bard?"

"Well..." The warlord's voice was strained with apprehension, but she stalwartly marched forward. "Morale is very important to a good administrator. I think we'd always need a first-class bard around... one like you."

"Why, Xena, I thought you'd never ask."

Despite Gabrielle's teasing tone, Xena had to wipe a few tears off the bard's cheeks. With a contented sigh, the warlord said, "I was a little worried you'd say no. You don't seem to like happy endings."

"I try to avoid being predictable, but sometimes a cliche is just what a story needs."

"Like happily ever after?" ventured Xena.

"Yeah," said the bard. "Like happily ever after."

And her smile stole Xena's breath away.

» Gabrielle and Xena continue their adventures in Reality Check