Journey's End

by LJ Maas

CALM WAS THE DAY...

  I LIE HERE AWAKE, as the predawn light attempts to filter in from behind the heavy tapestries that cover the windows. I listen to the regular breathing and feel the tiny twitches of sleep-absorbed muscles, coming from the woman in my arms. I take this moment to thank those Gods still favoring me, amazed at Athena’s tolerance of my twenty-season absence from her temple. Perhaps a bit of placating is in order. For I know with certainty, only the power of the Gods could have brought Gabrielle and I together in this fashion.

  Waking at my usual time was no more a chore than it always was, however I was loath to leave this spot at present. I now had a reason to stay and linger, the feeling of Gabrielle’s small body tucked against me, compelling me to lie here, for just a while longer.

  I heard Sylla in the outer room. She was no doubt cleaning up the mess I left, and that Gabrielle was too preoccupied to remember. My maid decided that coming into the bedchamber to wake me was too personal a task to attempt, now that I was no longer alone. I smiled at the times Sylla hustled a sleepy whore from my bed, so I wouldn’t have to look at the woman the next day. Gods, the things people put up with from me. I appreciated the fact that Sylla afforded this respect, not only to me, but to Gabrielle also. The reason why took the smile from my face and replaced it with a frown. Sylla provided this courtesy to Gabrielle because she no longer thought of the young woman as a slave. Actually, very few people in the palace did. When people spoke of her to me, they called her, my Gabrielle. They could just as easily have said, my slave, but none did. It seems that only one person still thought of Gabrielle as a slave, and that was Gabrielle herself.

  Of course, I perpetuated that notion with my selfish denial of her freedom. With only a word, I could have a Queen by my side, and yet I settle for a slave. I know... I know in my head the wrongness of it all, but Gods, my heart. I couldn’t take it if she were to leave me. That’s what it all boils down to, doesn’t it. She may say she loves me now, but wait. Just wait until the moment the beast is loosed upon her, instead of an enemy. If she were a free woman, she would be able to run, any sane woman would, wouldn’t she?

  I have found the love of my life, the woman that no other has or will ever compare to, yet there is still that tiny voice, deep inside. That voice that tells me I don’t deserve to be loved, that given time, I will only hurt this beautiful young woman. I wonder when I will have a day when I feel it’s okay for someone to love me. I release a heavy sigh and suddenly the woman beside me is awake.

  “You’re thinking grave thoughts,” she whispered humorously, in a sleepy voice.

  “How long have you been awake?” I chuckle and ask. I was so involved with my own introspections that I didn’t even hear the pattern of Gabrielle’s breathing change.

  “Long enough to feel your body tighten up with those worries.” She answered. “Xena?”

  “Hhhmm?”

  “Is it still all right... to call you that?” Gabrielle asked, a small hint of concern in her voice.

  I rolled partially over, until I was leaning against her, looking down into that beautiful face. “It would take more than a night in Morpheus’ realm to cause me to forget my love for you, Gabrielle.” I punctuated the statement with a deep, lingering kiss.

  The doubts vanished from Gabrielle’s face, while my own self-recriminations were tossed into a heap in the corner of my mind. It was still a concern, but Gabrielle had a way of dispelling the darkness from my heart and mind, not to mention the absolutely heart stopping way she was preparing to thank me, for not leaving our bed too early this morning.

  * * *

  A couple of very pleasurable candlemarks later, I was in the process of receiving a much-needed back massage. I laughed aloud at the memory that passed before my mind’s eye.

  “Are you suddenly ticklish?” Gabrielle questioned the small laugh.

  “I was remembering the first time you did this for me. You know where that got us, don’t you.”

  It was Gabrielle’s turn to release a small bit of laughter, moving her body up until she was lying across my back. Gods, she felt good.

  “Would you like a repeat performance, My Lord?” Gabrielle asked in a teasing manner, stressing my title, to make me more aware of that fact.

  I rolled over, laughing, at the enthusiasm of her youth, and that I was even entertaining the notion. I pulled her into my arms. “My heart says yes, most definitely, my body, however, says that if I have one more orgasm this morning I’m going to pass out. I will take you up on that offer later, however.” I added with a smile.

  Kissing her once more, I reluctantly pulled away to rise, but it was the feel of the small body in my arms that caused me to lie back against the pillows, once more. We lay there for some time, each of us lost in separate thoughts, but something told me we were both replaying yesterdays events in our minds.

  “Gabrielle?” I asked hesitantly.

  “Yes, Xena?” she answered, rising up on one elbow, to look down on me.

  Suddenly my mouth went dry. She was leaning over me, her golden hair falling over her shoulder, the strands reaching down to tickle my arm. She was a vision and her heart belonged to me, just as I gave mine to her for safekeeping.

  “Gods, I love you.” I blurted out, feeling instant embarrassment at my juvenile method of expressing the emotion.

  Her smile said more than an entire scroll. It lit her from within and she practically shimmered from the ethereal quality of the effect. There I was, looking up into the face of a woman, young enough to be my daughter, an expression on her face that belied her seasons. She directed so much warmth and compassion toward me, through that one smile, that I momentarily lost my voice.

  “So beautiful.” I finally uttered, reaching up to stroke her cheek.

  A dark thought occurred to me and I felt myself needing to clear the air. “Gabrielle... those things I said to Demetri... you know I only said what I did to--”

  She reached up and pressed her fingertips to my lips, effectively halting my speech.

  “I know,” she answered simply.

  “I had to let myself go, to get you away from him, I had to become... become something... ”

  “Dark?” Gabrielle voiced the words I found so difficult.

  “Yes, dark. Gabrielle, I don’t know how to explain it, but I lose myself when that happens. I fear that I might forget myself that way around you. I would never purposely hurt you, but I’m afraid that I might someday. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if that happened. It almost did happen, Gods, Gabrielle, if you hadn’t moved out of the way of my blade so quickly, I might have stabbed you.”

  I watched the play of emotions express themselves in her face. I wondered if she was thinking twice about this whole thing... about me. Gabrielle appeared to be struggling with some unknown choice. She seemed to finally come to a decision and spoke.

  “I knew.” She stated quietly.

  “Knew what?”

  “Knew you would turn with your dagger... I saw it... in a dream.” She slowly finished.

  My first impulse was to laugh at the young woman’s jest, but the look on Gabrielle’s face said she was anything but joking. The expression told me she was expecting... well, I don’t know what, but something. She lowered her eyes and silence hung heavy between us, until it dawned on me. She was serious. Gabrielle was taking a huge chance in revealing this to me.

  When I was a young woman, oracles were feared, yet respected individuals, whom the Gods blessed, or cursed, depending on the way you viewed their situation. The world was a different place now. The Gods rarely showed themselves, although I still received regular visits from some of the most annoying of them. As this world changed, so did its people. People were no longer open and accepting of what they did not understand, rather they let fear become a ruler in their lives. Because of this behavior, gone were the gifted ones with the sight, even the Oracle at Delphi, either murdered or gone into seclusion, no longer speaking of her visions.

  To
this day, I look back with wonder at the one true seer I ever met. She called herself Beve, and I met her not long after my army swept through Athens on the final leg of successfully conquering the Greek Empire. I refused to make Athens the capital city of my new empire because of what they’d done to my homeland, during the Peloponnesian War. I ordered Pericles and most of the statesman to be crucified and many of the Athenian halls torn down and destroyed. I felt my destiny click into place on the day I watched them destroy the marble architecture of my enemies.

  Atrius, who heard the woman tell of her visions, brought Beve into my tent that evening. He thought her predictions real enough to bring her to my attention. As I sat across from her, an amused, wine induced smile on my face, she told me things that I thought impossible, some merely impossible for her to know. Strangely enough, every single word the woman told me eventually came true over the passing years.

  I was overcome with an uncharacteristic sadness on the day that I heard they stoned her, along with a woman by the name of Hypatia. I think part of the reason for their unnecessary deaths could have been the fact that they were popular women in a male dominated society, but mostly, I believe they were murdered because their visions of the future made them different. Frighteningly enough, being different in today’s society, caused fear, then anger, then rage, usually inciting the passions of the mob.

  “Are you an oracle, then?” I asked Gabrielle, who was still patiently waiting for my comment.

  “Oh, no, I only have... dreams sometimes, and sometimes the things end up happening like they did in my dreams, but not always.” Gabrielle answered.

  I kissed her forehead. “It would be all right if you were a seer. You know that, right?”

  “Thank you, Xena,” the young woman breathed a heavy sigh of relief at my answer. “I know how people feel about such things. When I was a small child, I told my mother about a dream I had that came true. She told me never to speak of it again. After I was sold into slavery, when I would have these visions come to me, I always kept them to myself, for fear of being branded as a priestess of Hecatē.”

  “Gabrielle, you don’t have to keep these things to yourself any longer. I’ll always listen, and no one else ever has to know.” I smiled at her.

  “I’m so glad to know that, Xena. When I was a teenager, I saw the men of an Ambracian village hang a woman for her visions. I’ve always been too afraid to tell anyone my secret, until now.” She finished, looking into my eyes. I saw love and trust in that gaze, and my heart ached over the seasons of pain this lovely woman had to endure.

  “People can have such small minds sometimes. They only want to know what has always gone on before, what has always been. Change frightens them, Gabrielle; anything different frightens them.” I commented.

  “It is so much more so for slaves, Xena.”

  I watched the young woman’s face, yet Gabrielle didn’t say this out of meanness or to chide me. It was obvious that she was more accepting of our slave/master relationship, perhaps more resigned at what she thought of as fate, than I. Here it was then, our first words about the issue that hung silently between us. What could I honestly say that would not be a lie, for that, I would not do to her. Yet, she didn’t ask me for her freedom, did she?

  “You do know, Gabrielle... I... I don’t think of you that way... as a slave.” I was simply trying to tell her how I felt.

  “Yet... I am.” Gabrielle answered softly, not a hint of spite or anger in her reply. She was simply stating a fact.

  My young lover, unlike myself, was resigned to the reality that she was in love with, and loved by, a woman who owned her, a woman who, when it came right down to it, was her master. There wasn’t much either one of us could say after that simple phrase. I would spend the rest of my days in this mortal realm, cursing my own selfishness and the outcome it was to bring about.

  * * *

  Gabrielle and I enjoyed our days, not to mention our nights together. She was still the model of civility to me in public, but in private, she was becoming open and fun loving, even learning that she could tease me. She continued to beat me at King’s Men on a regular basis, my pride refusing to ask how she was able to consistently perform such a task. When at last I grudgingly accepted the idea that Gabrielle’s mind was better suited to the game than mine, I inquired as to how she employed her strategy. The rather amazing thing, was that she beat me every time from a knowledge, not of what she would do in six future moves, but in knowing what I would do. She was reading me, not the board. Very simply, she told me my arrogance made my moves predictable, once my King was in trouble. Even more ironic, was the fact that it was this very ability that led me to conquer Greece. I was able to read and predict people, just as Gabrielle seemed to have a feel for them. Only, somewhere along the way, I lost touch with people, and therefore, the ability to know them.

  She enjoyed her growing friendships with Anya, Sylla, and Delia. I neither said nor did anything to discourage the relationships she was forming. I knew friendships were important to the young woman, they were a new experience, and I was quickly discovering, my Gabrielle loved a new experience. Her life as a slave left her little time, nor inclination, to make friends. I kept my opinions to myself and hoped she was smart enough to know that she had to take care regarding those who would befriend her. There were always people who would hurt or even use her to get to me.

  Gabrielle was a relatively good judge of character, however. Because of this, I never thought to question her as to who exactly she spent how much time with. I was learning to trust, and even surprised myself, simply because that was very new for me. I never cared for her friendships with Carra, however.

  Carra was a slave, but that had little to do with my dislike of her. She was captured as a very young woman, part of the spoils of war, from one of the many battles my army and I fought, in lands far to the north. Gods, what country! The land was beautiful for perhaps two or three moons of the year, and then grew cold and icy. The snow, which I previously only saw on mountaintops, covered their entire country during the winter spells. Surely the Goddess of their people suffered a similar fate to Persephone, but the God who kidnapped her must not have been as easy going as Hades, to let her return to the earth for half the season. It was a murderous campaign, and the men and women of their armies were huge, hulking people, whom the bitter cold did not appear to affect. Their weapons were stronger and larger, yet their battle strategies were pitiful. It was only that fact that led to my eventual victories. I left that country without adding it to my already growing realm. I took slaves, resources, and precious booty, but left the inhospitable land, vowing never to return if I could help it.

  Carra had a look in her eye that spoke, not only of pain she suffered, but also of pain she would like to inflict. It was not a new expression to me; I’d spent most of my life with that look, burning from my blue orbs. It was a thirst for revenge. However, Gabrielle saw someone in need of a friend, and I found it, a little harder every day I must admit, to deny my little one anything.

  Carra was a tall, strong, dark-haired woman, and I attributed my feelings to jealousy more than anything else. It was the way she looked at Gabrielle that I never cared for, but I held my tongue, not wanting to appear the jealous lover. Perhaps if I’d voiced my concerns, Gabrielle would have been more aware, not quite so trusting. If I’d broken my silence, Gabrielle might not have suffered so much hurt, not only at Carra’s hands, but also by my own.

  My days began to be completely dominated by the trial of Kassandros and his men. I could have simply declared them guilty, after all, they all confessed, quite eagerly I must say, once Demetri’s lifeless body was paraded in front of them. I had it in my mind to put them on trial for their illegal slavery tactics, a fair and unbiased one, not some mock court procedure, and to use the trial as a precedent to banish and outlaw slavery within the Greek Empire.

  It would have to be prepared with care. I didn’t want an uprising over the issue, so I spent long hou
rs with my advisors, running messages throughout the entire Empire to men and women of position and power, who I knew to be loyal to me. A full moon passed before I received the answers I needed. With the exception of a few dissenters, who would stand behind me nonetheless, the majority of the people who held any kind of power in the land, agreed to my concepts.

  It would not be an easy task. There were those who truly believed that fate made certain people slaves because they were not able to take care of themselves, that they weren’t as smart, or as capable as the people who owned them. It was because of this that I told no one but my advisors, and the key people around the Empire, of my plan. Even Gabrielle did not hear of the plan from my lips.

  I thought it would truly be the ultimate gift to her if I could announce, not only her freedom, but also an end to slavery throughout the realm. I prepared myself as best I could for the eventuality that Gabrielle would want to leave me. She was a young woman and had her whole life ahead of her. I, on the other hand, was nearing my journey’s end, finally realizing that my love for Gabrielle, would not allow me to cage her like a pet.

  It was because of something Delia said to me that I charted my course of action. The older woman cajoled me on a daily basis regarding Gabrielle’s freedom. Once I voiced all my fears to her, she reminded me of the golden eagle that still lived in the hills and forest outside my palace.

  An accidental bowshot downed the animal some fifteen seasons ago. We were out hunting and the huge shadow that covered us spooked the horses, and scared the wits out of one young archer. His shot went wide, but caught the bird’s wing and it fell from the sky. Thinking to put it out of its misery, I jumped from my horse, but realized, with a little care, the wound might not be life threatening.

  That began a journey for both the young bird and myself. I fancied myself quite a falconer and began the conditioning necessary to prepare the bird for training, but this bird was not to be trained so easily. Its wounds healed, but it would only obey half my commands, ignoring me the rest of the time. After a full season, I realized the creature was quite like myself. This is how I would be in captivity, isn’t it? I was born free and would never be able to forget the fact, nor completely bow to anyone. Because of this revelation, I took the bird out one day, and with a heavy heart at losing such a magnificent creature, I removed his hood, untied the anklets that held the jesses to his legs, and finally removed his leash. It was the first time in captivity that he was without his leash and he didn’t know quite what to make of it. He looked rather like a child about to dive into the deep end of the pond for the first time.