Leave Me, Leave Me Not

by Ella Quince

Not even the softening light of late afternoon could hide the scars of drought on the valley below. Too much sun and too little rain had dried the meadow grass into crisp brown lines etched across the ground. One thin ribbon of silver might have been a river, but it was at least a day's travel from the hilly peak on which Xena stood.

The warrior turned to her companion. "Skelos must be a lot smaller than I remembered. You can't even see any rooftops from here." She curled one lip ever so slightly. Gabrielle was averting her gaze, but Xena knew the bard would hear the sneer in her voice. "In fact, if I didn't know better, I'd say that Skelos isn't even in this valley."

The bard said nothing.

"You're awfully quiet for once. Maybe a good dinner will loosen your tongue... oh, I forgot — we're out of food and out of water. We were going to restock in Skelos... which isn't where you thought it would be."

"Xena, the map showed—"

"Oh, right, the map. The map that I told you was wrong. But you didn't believe me, did you?"

"I just thought—"

"Now that was your first mistake," said Xena softly. "Thinking has never been your strong suit, Gabrielle. But this time I followed your 'better' judgment. And see where it got us."

"I'm sorry."

"You're always sorry. But sometimes I wonder if you don't do these things on purpose. Maybe you were worried I would hurt the poor peasants of Skelos and you decided to protect them by steering me into this gods-forsaken wasteland."

She moved so quickly Gabrielle didn't even have time to flinch. Her backhand blow split the young woman's lip and sent her reeling to the ground. "Guess you'll have to pay a price for your act of mercy." She raised her hand again. "As for me, I'm going to enjoy this evening after all."

The bard didn't even try to defend herself from the warrior's next punch or from her kicks. She just kept crying out, "Xena, don't! Please, Xena... Xena...."

...Xena....

"Xena! Xena, wake up."

The voice called her out of darkness; an insistent shaking pulled her up to a sitting position. Sanity returned with the smell of woodsmoke and the memory of a quiet evening spent in camp with...

...Gabrielle.

Xena drew a deep shuddering breath before opening her eyes. She almost sobbed at the sight of the bard's unbloodied face. Even so, she couldn't stop herself from reaching out and searching — with careful, feather-light touches — for signs of bruising on the young woman sitting beside her. "Are you all right?"

"Of course I'm all right," said Gabrielle gently. "It was just a dream, Xena, a bad dream."

"Oh, beyond bad." A shiver ran up the warrior's spine, leaving a bone-deep chill in its wake.

Gabrielle pulled the blanket up around Xena's shoulders, then wrapped her in a comforting embrace. "It was one of... those... dreams, wasn't it?"

Xena nodded, saying nothing, just waiting for warmth to seep back into her body.

The bard's voice dropped to a soft whisper. "We settled this, remember?"

"You mean I let you talk me into staying."

"Maybe so. But it's too late for you to back out now. You promised to give us another chance together." Before Xena could protest, she said, "And yes, I promised to leave if you ever hurt me again. So, we have a bargain."

"Some bargain. I risk nothing; you risk getting killed."

After a long silence, Gabrielle said, "I'll tell you a secret, Xena. If you had promised me that you'd never hurt me again, I probably wouldn't have believed you. And if you'd expected me to stay with you, I would have left. But when I saw that you were afraid for me, when you tried to protect me by sending me back to the Amazons... well, I decided you cared enough to change."

"But what if I can't? What if wanting to change isn't enough?" What if after all the bitter lessons she'd learned, she still couldn't contain her fits of rage?

"It's kind of scary," admitted Gabrielle, "loving you so much that I'm willing to risk both of us. Because I know what you would do to yourself if...."

"If I ever killed you," said Xena, fighting past the hoarse tightness in her throat. "I couldn't — wouldn't — live with that."

"Right. So, you're also risking your life by staying, aren't you?"

Xena nodded her reluctant agreement. If the healing power of Illusia hadn't erased Gabrielle's wounds, they would both be dead by now. "But... you're still afraid of me."

Perhaps it was a trick of the flickering firelight, but Gabrielle's gaze seemed to shift away. "What makes you say that?"

"This morning, with the map. You didn't argue when I said it was wrong."

"Why should I? You're usually right about these things."

Xena's laugh was forced. "Yeah, but that's never stopped you before, has it?"

"No, I guess not."

"Gabrielle... I want us back to where we were."

"So do I, Xena. It's just going to take time." She pulled the warrior back down onto the bedroll. "Come on, let's go to sleep. Dawn will be here all too soon."

As they settled themselves together, limbs entwined and bodies nestled one against the other, the bard quietly said, "You don't wake me in the mornings anymore."

Ah. So she noticed, thought Xena. "You like to sleep late."

"Yeah, I do. But you used to roust me out of bed, and now... You're so careful with me, as if I'll break, or as if you don't have the right to ask anything of me anymore, even getting up on time."

The fire crackled as a log settled deeper into the ashes.

"Tell you what," said Xena. "I'll haul you out of bed early if you'll tell me I'm wrong every now and then. Deal?"

"Deal," said Gabrielle. "As long as I can still complain about getting up with the sun," she added with a yawn.

"Umm. And I'll be sure to remind you that I'm always right."

"Are not," mumbled Gabrielle.

Xena's eyes drifted shut. "Am too."

They were both still smiling when sleep pulled them down into a dreamless realm.