Awakenings 09
Children of Godsa XWP fanfiction
Ms. Hunter Ash
rating: R
pairings: X/G
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Xena wasn’t surprised when, just before dawn, Hecate sent her hunting in the woods, the blood of life needed for the cross-over ritual into the dreamscape of the soul. Then the warrior was to climb the mountain, to go as high as she could and spend time meditating and purging her soul and mind of her guilt for the day. To eat nothing and drink little. Having some shamanism training from Alti, the meditation and lack of food was normal for a beginning journey, the warrior knew.
The hunt went well, a deer practically standing still for her arrow shot and the warrior made the climb easily. What didn’t come easy was facing her past again. With an irritated growl she threw a small rock bouncing down the cliff as she sat on the edge. How many times would she have to face this, she thought. Then she corrected herself. Had she ever really faced it?
With a sigh the ex-warlord closed her eyes and forced her breath to steady out and let her mind take her back.
By three candlemarks the warrior was bathed in sweat even though it was quite cold on the mountain top. She had completed the chanting and connecting with the spirit of the deer and mixed her blood with that of the animal.
Then the warrior drank the blood and felt herself slipping through the confusing, terrifying and weird space between the worlds and crossing into the dreamscape. Xena turned to face her past.
The warrior saw her childhood, remembered the feelings of being different from the other children of the village and nearby villages. The only one accepting her Lycius, her beloved brother. Her mind forced her to relive their weapons practice, he was the only one that tolerated her desire to learn how to fight. Then the images of going into battle against Cortese, watching her brother fall to an arrow and then to Cortese’s sword. The horrifying sight of her brother’s body being dragged behind a horse, mutilating his body.
The only sign of the warrior’s torment on the outside was a small whimper escaping her lips.
Her mind continued. Xena rallying the men and boys of the village to fight back and avenge their dead. Being bested by Cortese, being abused by him and his men and left for dead. With another whimper Xena watched her younger self swear revenge by her brother’s blood and her own, her eyes flashing, bordering on insanity.
The older warrior wishing she could go back in time and tell the young girl not to accept the hand of the stranger appearing in front of her. The stranger that promised to help her in her revenge, to show her how to fight and conquer the world. Promised her power, enough power so that her violation would never happen again. The young girl had felt the hairs on the back of her neck standing up and sensed that this wasn’t no ordinary mortal and took his hand.
Xena forced her mind to slow down. Always, since giving up the Warlord, her mind tried to travel quickly over the next ten years, blurring the images together. This time the warrior forced her memories to slow down. The battles still blended together but her brutality didn’t. Those who stood in her way, those who had something the Warlord wanted, or those who simply annoyed her - Xena remembered them. Not their names and not many faces but she remembered the tortures, the deaths, the humiliation people suffered at her hands.
Xena could feel the heat of the day, smell the blood and gore, feel the tension on the battlefield. How many battlefields? The cries and screams of the warriors was deafening but the hardest was watching herself. The warrior was forced to watch as the Warlord took delight in the slaughter, in the power of her skills and sword. The maniacal grin and eyes as she took out opponent after opponent. A cleaved skull here, a warrior trying to hold his stomach in place after her sword had ripped it open, another grasping at his throat after her chakram had flown by. The older Xena felt the tears streaming down her face as she walked among the battlefields, seeing the wounded and dead. The warrior in her still knew that sometimes a battle couldn't be avoided but a lot of those on the field were simple farmers that had gotten in the Warlord's way. These weren't soldiers, they were victims. Her victims.
One by one the voices of the dead began to curse and berate her until it was an overwhelming roar in the warrior's ears, sending Xena to her knees, covering her ears in an useless gesture.
Xena closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing, accepting that the voice were right. She let the pain wash over her and through her and the voices disappeared.
Xena then turned to the darkness in her mind and soul. The warrior wasn’t surprised that her mind struggled against her and fought against the resistance. Xena felt a growl deep in her throat and struggled with herself.
Finally the images began coming, trying to rush over her. With more effort she slowed them down until some of the faces came into focus. Then the events took shape and Xena whimpered with shame.
The sight of Amazons impaled on tree limbs, broken bodies, broken limbs. Of Alti’s power crazed face. Xena kept her breathing normal as Alti's voice whispered in her ear, seductive, powerful. Her lure of power was almost more alluring than Ares', the warrior reflected. The warrior's own inherited shamanic talents drew the evil sorceress like a wolf to a wounded lamb. The Amazons had paid for that power, they had become the lambs under Xena's hands and Alti's desires.
Xena let each face appear before her as her astral body shook and cried with regret and shame. She silently begged each for forgiveness as they faded from her sight.
The rush of the blood after a battle, after a slaughter, hit her like a force, knocking her astral body backwards. Sending the warrior to her knees shaking.
The faces of the women and men she herself had brutalized as Warlord, to satisfy her bloodlust after a battle. The barmaids, the female slaves, prostitutes - how many had felt her fist along their jaws and then inside their bodies? How many still carried the scars from her whip or dagger? She knew all of them carried the emotional and mental scars. How many had shed countless tears as they serviced the Warlord, tongues at her sex and shame on their faces at being forced?
Which was worse: the slaughter or the rapes? Xena howled as her guilt overwhelmed her. How could Gabrielle touch her if she ever knew this side of Xena?
Xena fought to maintain control and face the demons. When did she lose the will to live? The ex-Warlord could almost pinpoint when revenge and justice no longer mattered, when all that mattered was power. When did that power become empty? Is that why she brutalized her sexual mates? Was she trying to feel something, anything?
Is that when it all slipped away from her? No, she admitted to herself. It all slipped away when the young girl took the hand of the God of War and welcomed his training and promises.
How many died at her hands merely because she couldn’t feel anything?
Xena felt the tears streaming down her face and released her body and mind, collapsing backwards. Her mind came back to her physical body with a shudder and a scream of grief.
The warrior pulled her fur cloak around her as she curled into a ball and let the tears flow, occasionally smacking the rocks with her fists or palms, trying to release the pain.
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The sun was in the afternoon sky when Xena sat up and rubbed a handful of snow over her face. She felt exhausted but knew she wasn’t finished. With a sigh, the warrior sat back up and concentrated on her breathing again. Her body screaming in protest as she pushed the physical aside and went back into her mind, drinking the deer's blood again.
The warrior forced her mind to bring up the memories of that village, of losing control over her army. Xena almost was grateful for the memories of the gauntlet her men had forced her to endure when they threw her out. It wasn’t punishment enough for what she had done. The irony was that they were punishing her for not being brutal enough in those last days. Xena winced at the blows, almost physically remembering them as her younger-self struggled through the line of men intent on killing her.
Then the warrior was remembering how lost she had felt without her men, without the power. Trying to attack Hercules again only to be shown compassion. The older Xena felt a whimper of sympathy for her younger self, running around the countryside, totally lost with herself. No longer the Warlord, no longer with purpose and no longer empty. Instead a feeling of shame and guilt were beginning to gnaw at the warrior, causing more pain than the gauntlet had.
Why had she saved the baby? What did she care anymore? The answer was in the question. If she had to ask the question then the answer was that she did care.
Xena remembered being so scared right then. Nothing made sense anymore, she couldn’t be the Warlord and care about anything. Hercules wanted her to stay with him and work through it. Work through what, the young Warlord demanded.
The guilt had been like a heavy mantle on her shoulders and the warrior was determined to walk away from it. The older Xena now knew how foolish that idea had been. As if burying her weapons and walking away from the Warlord would have changed what Xena was - a warrior.
The very still body of the meditating warrior smiled slightly as the first memory of Gabrielle came into focus. The brave young woman trying to bargain to save the women of her village from slavers, even offering herself in exchange.
Xena forced these memories to go as slow as her painful memories had. To force herself to remember all the good things she had done. How many people had they actually helped along the way to this point? Not just the major events like Cecrops and defeating Bacchus, but just stopping some robbers on the road? Stopping wars and battles? Even saving Joxer’s life a couple of times. That ought to make up for some of the bad stuff, Xena smiled to herself.
Not giving into Ares all those countless times. Always at the center of everything was Gabrielle. Even when the warrior had been forced to travel without her, always waiting for her had been Gabrielle.
Until Perdicus. Xena forced her mind to continue on, wanting to turn away from the painful memories but determined to face everything. Her jealousy over Gabrielle leaving and marrying the soldier. Her pain because Gabrielle had been willing to leave her and her own guilty pain for letting the bard go without telling Gabrielle how she felt.
Her own guilt for not protecting Perdicus from Callisto and the guilt for her relief when he was dead and Gabrielle came back to her. It only helped a little that she now knew that Gabrielle had also felt guilty about the relief the bard also felt over Perdicus’ death.
Then the overwhelming joy when the two women had finally faced each other with the truth about their feelings. Xena couldn’t describe how different her heart felt from the Warlord after she and Gabrielle finally kissed.
The warrior let these memories flow over her and the healing feeling they brought with them. Gabrielle’s smile, her hair shining in the sun. The delight in watching the young teenager turn into a beautiful young woman. The joy in seeing those green eyes go from devotion to love to passion.
Then the mixed feelings and memories of their bonding. Of being accepted by the gods themselves, of being blood bonded, soul bonded for all eternity. The horror of Gabrielle’s poisoning by the Romans and the intense suffering no one could have survived. Even now it was too painful to watch her beloved suffering under the poison. Gabrielle's body twisting and arching in unnatural positions as she screamed in agony. Xena brushed away the tears as her astral body rocked with the pain and the feeling of being helpless.
The time spent beginning to heal only to have Ares mess with their lives again, stealing Xena’s memories of Gabrielle.
The warrior resisted letting her body squirm from those memories. Spending a lust filled night with him made the warrior very uncomfortable to remember but she persisted through the memory. Forcing herself to remember almost killing Gabrielle under Ares’ influence, only the bard forcing her warrior to remember their blood bond saving both of them.
Xena had thought most of their troubles were over then. She mentally bit back on moving away from the next memories, bringing them to the surface.
Her joy and horror at discovering she was pregnant, with a child of Ares. Ack! That hadn’t been easy to deal with. Again it was her bard that saved her, welcoming the child and reassuring the warrior of her love and acceptance. Her joy at Hercules and Iolaus stepping in to lend a hand in getting them out of Greece and Roman territory - away from Ares and Caesar.
Then the day the warrior thought would cause her heart to break, the crippling of her friend Iolaus and the disappearance of Gabrielle for almost two years.
The warrior was horrified to actually be able to see the scene this time, not having been there to help her friend and mate. Xena curled into a small ball as she watched Iolaus fall to the swords and fists of the rogue Romans and Gabrielle fall under her horse, trapped. Xena screamed with Gabrielle as the bandits began hitting and then raping her until she was unconscious.
Xena still marveled at the changes in her little bard when Gabrielle had finally returned to them, a full fledged gladiator and Roman citizen. How good the bard had become at fighting now but still somehow the gentle spirit was still under there.
The memories shifted to Sasha’s birth, the joy in giving life to her daughter mixed with the bitter of Gabrielle not sharing that moment with her and of the death of her German friend Sasha for whom Xena’s daughter was named.
Xena let the feelings of warmth for their adopted Germanic family wash over her in healing and the joy of Gabrielle’s return and rediscovering of their love. The warrior let the recent memories flow a little faster, they were still very fresh in her mind. The crucifixion, her absolute terror as the bard died on the cross, then salvation.
Through it all was Gabrielle, always. Xena realized with a start that not even Solan came close to having that light in her life, maybe not even Sasha. This left Xena with a puzzle of how to feel. She knew she would die for Sasha and Solan, that she would take on the Gods, all of them for her daughter and son. The warrior also knew that Gabrielle would be right there with her without a question or hesitation. Xena also knew that she wouldn’t even consider facing anything ever again without Gabrielle.
With total acceptance the warrior realized that she did trust someone unconditionally and loved someone unconditionally: Gabrielle. When did that happen, she wondered? She had always held back from giving over every bit of herself to someone. Hades, she didn’t give much of anything to anyone before Gabrielle, she amended.
Somehow the small bard had gotten past those walls and now Xena had to accept the fact that she couldn’t live without the bard. She did want to live - both for her children and her mate.
The darkness no longer reached out to claim her for her sins. If she could have a love like Gabrielle’s in her life then the darkness couldn’t control her any more. Xena admitted that she had friends, true friends and family now. Something the Warlord never could. Her mind went back to her body.
As Xena stretched her cold and stiff body she sighed heavily and smiled.
The Warlord was truly dead.
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Xena wasn't surprised to see Cyrene and Hecate waiting for her when she returned to the cave just after dark but she was surprised to see Gabrielle there. The bard grinned and rushed into her lover's arms, holding Xena tightly. Xena raised her eyebrows in question over the bard's head at Hecate, who now looked more like an older Cyrene.
"You are blood bound together and you trust her unconditionally, she will be your anchor on your next journey."
Xena frowned and pulled back to look into Gabrielle's face. "If something goes wrong you could be pulled in with me."
"I know, Hecate explained that to me. Do you even need to ask?" Gabrielle smiled and Xena shook her head, drawing the bard back into her arms.
"No," Xena responded, kissing her mate gently. "What happens now?" she asked Hecate and her mother.
"You have done well, Xena. Now to reach the gift you must pierce the darkness I rule and grab it."
"Not just your usual wave of the hand blessing?" Xena grinned.
"No, these are serious, your own bard had to die for hers."
Gabrielle pulled out of Xena's arms. "What?" she demanded, turning to the goddess. "What are you talking about?"
"Hmmm, I see your father hasn't talked to you yet. You'll have to trust me, warrior bard, and wait till I'm done with your mate," Hecate said gently.
Xena spotted the clinching of Gabrielle's jaw and waited to see which would win out, her bard's stubbornness or her logic. The warrior knew how much Gabrielle hated mysteries, especially about herself. Finally, Gabrielle nodded acceptance but her eyes told everyone there they had better have explanations for her when they were done.
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Cyrene and Hecate set up comfortable bedding for the two younger women to lay on and then Hecate drew several small vials and pouches of herbs out and began mixing them together with the blood from the deer. Gabrielle swallowed with a shudder as the goddess worked.
Cyrene sat next to her daughter as they chanted and began the meditations for crossing over.
“What’s in the cup besides blood?” Gabrielle asked.
“Several hallucinogenic herbs and some poisonous ones. Xena will come close to dying permanently, only the strength of her spirit and love for you and her children will keep that from happening,” Hecate answered simply.
Xena sat down on the bedding and smiled at her mate, trying to look reassuring. Gabrielle raised her eyebrows in a disbelieving gesture and grinned.
Cyrene sat on one side of the couple and Hecate knelt at the other. Cyrene, the priestess, pulled the dagger off the altar and Xena held her left hand out and her mother quickly cut a line across Xena’s palm. Hecate quickly caught the blood in the cup with the other mixture. Then Gabrielle held out her hand and Cyrene repeated the motion and Gabrielle’s blood mixed into the cup as well. Xena reached out and grasped her mate’s hand, once again mingling their blood.
“Seems we do this a lot,” Gabrielle smiled and Xena smiled back and then grew serious.
“You’re my tie to this world, don’t let go of me.”
“Never,” the bard answered strongly.
Xena reached and accepted the cup from Hecate. The warrior hesitated a moment.
“Love is always the answer, my daughter, even in the darkness.” Hecate spoke calmly and Xena drained the cup.
Gabrielle resisted the panic that tried to grab her as Xena’s eyes rolled back in her head and the warrior’s body began to shake uncontrollably. The bard’s eyes quickly sought Hecate’s blue ones to find her seemingly unconcerned. Cyrene looked concerned but unmoving. Gabrielle tightened her grip as Xena’s hand relaxed in hers.
Cyrene leaned forward and helped lay her daughter’s body down on the bedding.
“Relax and close your eyes, Gabrielle. Lie next to her and let her feel your strength,” Hecate ordered. The bard quickly shifted her body to lie next to her warrior and closed her eyes.
Gabrielle suddenly felt like her world was spinning, even with her eyes closed. She resisted thrashing out, determined to hang on to Xena’s hand.
Gabrielle opened her eyes to find the sky a strange shade of blue and the trees were gray. The bard sat up and looked around slowly and saw Xena turning over and looking at her with astonishment.
“Gabrielle! What happened!?” the warrior demanded as she quickly scrambled next to the bard.
“I don’t know I closed my eyes and I was here, wherever that is!”
“Relax, children. You will face this together,” Hecate’s voice whispered to them.
“No! I don’t want her here!” Xena yelled at the air.
“Why?” Gabrielle demanded as they climbed to their feet.
“It’s dangerous enough on the other side being connected to this realm, being here is ten times more dangerous. This place can get rough,” Xena tried to explain.
“What’s the matter, Xena, afraid of what she’ll see?”
Gabrielle was stunned to see her mate’s eyes go wide with a touch of .... of fear? The warrior spun on her heels quickly, drawing her sword in a swift motion. Gabrielle peeked around her mate to see who was speaking.
Standing with her legs in a wide stance about 50 yards away was a woman in Northern Amazon Shaman garb, totally in black with a headpiece of leather, beads and bones. She was older than Xena but it was hard to determine her age, Gabrielle decided.
The bard felt a chill at the look on the woman’s face and the madness in her eyes. Somehow this woman felt even more dangerous than Ares at his worst. Xena’s reaction didn’t reassure the bard.
The warrior let loose with one of her famous war cries and leaped into the air, somersaulting several times and landing right in front of the other woman, bringing her sword down on the seemingly unarmed figure in front of her.
Before the sword could strike the woman raised her hand and struck Xena in the chest. The bard was stunned when the light touch sent her mate flying backwards to land at her feet. Xena shook her head and regained her feet. Gabrielle drew out her sais in a defensively stance.
“Alti, what do you want?” Xena demanded.
The woman laughed and pointed her hand again and both warrior and bard found themselves at the base of some of the trees. Gabrielle groaned and shook her head, glancing over and saw Xena wincing as she stood up again.
“That’s Alti?” Gabrielle asked as the woman called Alti laughed at them.
“Alti, a sorceress from the Northern Amazons. She’s pure evil,” Xena said grimly, eyes narrowing.
“Oh, Xena, I’m hurt. Surely you give me more credit than I deserve. After all, I think you’ve killed countless more people than I have,” Alti protested with a smile.
With a wave of her hand the warrior went flying backwards again, landing hard, Xena’s eyes flashed as she regained her feet.
Gabrielle joined her mate as they approached cautiously and then separated, each approaching slowly, weapons drawn.
“At least I never tried to destroy their souls except through you.”
“Xena, maybe you’re not giving yourself enough credit. Have you told your Amazon Queen what you did to the Amazons of the North?”
Gabrielle saw Xena stop dead in her tracks, her jaw tightening. Xena felt a growl coming from her chest and exploded into a scream of rage as Alti laughed at her reaction. Once again the warrior launched herself into the air. Gabrielle quickly released one of her sais, hoping to gain a hit while the sorceress was detracted by Xena.
Alti flicked her hand and sent the sais flying back towards its owner. Gabrielle yelped and ducked as it came within a hairs width of her head. Xena found herself facing Gabrielle with Alti’s hand at her throat, her sword on the ground. Alti began squeezing and Xena’s eyes went wide with the realization that she couldn’t move her arms or legs in defense.
The bard screamed and rushed them, tackling both of them, freeing Xena from Alti’s grip. With the quickness of her gladiator skills, the bard buried her sais deep into Alti’s throat and stumbled backwards off the sorceress and almost over Xena as the sorceress laughed at her. Xena and Gabrielle regained their feet together as the shaman rose to her feet and removed the sais. She looked at the weapon with appreciation and then it melted like wax in her hand.
“Xena, I think we’re in trouble,” Gabrielle said softly.
“Uh huh,” the warrior agreed.
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