Sex/Violence Disclaimers: There are consensual acts of love between two women described. As for
violence... not a drop of blood shed.

General Disclaimers: Thanks to Katrina for issuing the call and allowing us to play with some interesting
concepts... I've just added my particular spin to this vision of an immortal Gabrielle and Xena. Please
note that this is the second part of a two part story that wraps up the issues created in this story. There is, however, a teaser for a new set of self-contained stories called "The Immortal Scrolls" at the end. But it shouldn't harm your enjoyment of this story.

A Prequel Note: This story picks up in the present day... and it reflects the situation created in "The Fonder Heart," a great story that I didn't write. So it might be a keen thing if you read that one first... :-)

Thanks: Thanks to everybody who took the time to drop me a note about this story. And for those of you who are looking for Xena's meeting with Lestat, check out "The Immortal Scrolls: Story I" coming hopefully in the next couple of weeks.
 
Questions, comments and other things are welcom at: sbowers@bellsouth.net
 
 

"Xena! I'm back... and we're late!" A lithe figure dashed down the wide hall that led to the bedroom she shared with her lover. Shedding clothes as she went, she stopped long enough to duck her head into the darkened study. ...Rats, no Xena. Where is she? The honey-haired woman cocked her head in puzzlement, mentally scanning all the places her partner could possibly be. I've already checked the stables... Marianne said she hasn't gone out... And I really can't miss this opening, especially after I skipped out on the last one... A wicked smile crossed her normally angelic-looking face as she remembered the reason why ...And that was her fault too... She skidded around the corner and came to a sliding halt in the bedroom doorway when she saw the vision that awaited her there...

A quiet breath-- while green eyes widened as they took in the aurulent length of her lover's body reclining comfortably on the bed. The curtains were open on the wide French doors, and fading crimson tentacles of light wrapped themselves languidly around Xena's bare skin. The silken caress of Cassandra Wilson's voice drifted through the room, and Gabrielle smiled inwardly as she recognized the song ...Days of wine and roses indeed... She swallowed audibly, her fingers tangled in the forgotten buttons of her blouse. "I see you got the new sound system rewired." Only centuries of practice on the performer's stage allowed her to keep her voice smooth and her tone conversational. And even the centuries couldn't insulate her from the sheer power of her Xena's naked form-- it snatched her breath away every time. Of course... this isn't your Xena... The nagging voice that reprimanded the smaller woman for her charade had grown fainter with time, and it now struggled weakly to keep the elision from completing.

The immortal one-- or the Ancient Bard, as she was called in dark circles-- was very much aware that the woman who waited so patiently for her to cross the room was not the warrior woman who had first taken her heart. That Xena-- an immortal too-- had been destroyed a century ago in the only way an immortal can die. An angry, relentless god named Callisto had ripped the pair apart, killing the one and condemning the other to walk an eternity alone.

Until now...

It had started out as the most base of exchanges between the honey-haired immortal and a streetwalker who resembled her Xena so much it made Gabrielle's heart ache. The same onyx hair, the same long long legs, the same crooked smile. Even the velvety drawl with which the prostitute had outlined the terms of their encounter was the same. Only the scars were missing. And when Gabrielle had asked her name, the reply "You can call me Xena..." had been almost unbearable. But something miraculous had happened when the two touched, and now the pair were inseparable. If it wasn't the rejoining of souls that the bard had dreamed of for a century, she was willing to take it anyway.

"You like it?" The contralto rumble jerked Gabrielle out of her musings.

"What's that?"

Xena smiled at her lover-- who hadn't blinked since she walked into the room. "The sound system. Why don't you come sit down and listen?" A sensual smile drifted across pale irises darkened in arousal. "Here--" she said, sliding to the corner of the bed nearest Gabrielle and seating herself on the edge. "I'll even meet you half-way."

Hypnotically Gabrielle moved to the beckoning figure of her lover until a long arm slithered out and curled around her waist, tugging her near.

"That's better," the dark woman purred, gently moving Gabrielle's hands from her blouse and deftly removing the silk from the immortal's fair shoulders.

"Xena--" her pulse jumped a notch at the warm weight of Xena's full breasts pressing against her hips, and she bit back a groan ...Oh gods... we're never going to make it... The thought of Spencer Layman's disappointed face allowed her to regain her senses long enough to stop her lover's impending assault on her skin. She had promised the gallery owner she would be there-- and Gabrielle was always a woman of her word. She had been for over two millennia. "Wait!" she breathed, just as Xena's mouth was working its way up the lean length of her muscled abdomen. A brief wave of disappointment washed through Gabrielle's body as the delicious sensations stopped. "We're late-- I mean, I'm running late-- Why--"

"I know you're late, Gabrielle." A throaty murmur replied as a lazy tongue flickered teasingly over one of the bard's pale breasts. "I've been waiting for you for over an hour." The tall woman paused long enough to cast a quick glance to her lover's face. Gabrielle's eyes had drifted shut, and the small woman was unconsciously arching her back slightly in an offering of fair skin to her dark lover. "Do you know how I've been amusing myself in the meantime?" She continued.

Gabrielle shuddered at the satiny stroke of Xena's words and breathed deeply. It didn't take immortally keen senses to detect the faint traces of her lover's musky essence. An all-too-clear picture of what Xena had most likely been doing surfaced in her storyteller's brain, and this time she was helpless to stop the moan that escaped at the image. Before Xena could press her tactical advantage, Gabrielle captured her lover's strong face in her hands, and blue eyes met green with unsettling force. For a timeless instant the bard was lost in the wildly sweeping energy that had been her warrior's quintessence. The women drifted in each other's regard for a long moment until the bard blinked rapidly-- the shrill ringing of the telephone reminding her that this was another century and, most assuredly, another lover.

They hung there, suspended in their embrace until the ringing stopped. "The gallery opening is tonight," she finally ground out.

Xena groaned and dropped her arms. Sprawling backwards on the bed, she eyed her lover with a knowing smirk. "You're going to make me wait here for you all night?" She teased. "There's no telling how much trouble I could get into."

An answering grin formed on the red-head's face. "I have no doubt, my love, that you could find a myriad of ways to amuse yourself." She ran a leisurely glance across her lover's figure, reveling in the glorious expanse of skin displayed before her. "And I would hate not to be a part of that."

"Then come here--"

Continuing on as if she had not been interrupted, "--That's why I have no intention of leaving you here. I want you to come with me. Remember when I told you about this a couple of weeks ago? Spencer's showing a new artist. And I promised him we'd be there. I do own half the gallery, you know."

"Oh no," Xena shook her head and ran a hand through her glossy thick hair. "I am not spending the evening standing in front of big blank canvases that have one splotch of color on them and really absurd titles. Call me uneducated, but I like paintings where the people look like people and you can tell what's going on."

A sliver of laughter ran through Gabrielle. "I promise you. No big splotches." She paused a moment and then, with a storyteller's impeccable timing, added, "Please?"

The one word that never failed to work wonders...

Xena looked at her skeptically. "No splotches? You promise?"

"Absolutely."

"Okay then... I guess we'd better get a move on." Xena took a deep breath. "I don't know about you, but I need a shower."

"A cold one..." Gabrielle agreed with a chuckle.

Watching her lover's graceful form, Gabrielle felt the familiar rush of arousal that her lover always inspired. The whole entire evening had been such an orchestrated tease-- Xena lying in wait for her, the long soapy shower, the murmured exchanges in the car-- that Gabrielle thought the slow burn was going to consume her long before they ever reached each other's skin. Or course, given the mood Xena was in currently and the waves of irritation she felt emanating from her partner, the bard was going to be lucky to get a goodnight kiss, let alone anything else.

She sighed wistfully and grinned sheepishly at her lover, "You're going to kill me, aren't you?"

Pale eyes narrowed, and a brow arched to maximum attention. "Well..." she drawled. "What do you think?"

Gabrielle mock-winced and shook her head, "I'm really sorry, Xena. I could have sworn that Spence told me this guy was a photographer. You know, real people and everything." Seeing that Xena's expression didn't change, she repeated. "You're really going to kill me."

The tall woman regarded her companion thoughtfully and pursed her lips. "Hmm... I'm sure I can think of a way you can make it up to me..." She teased quietly.

Ah... there's hope for me yet... A playful light shone in verdant eyes. "I bet you can."

Xena didn't say a word, but her sultry glance caused a beautiful flush to cross Gabrielle's already-warm features-- the eternal blue of Xena's eyes riveting her in place. Snickering unmercifully, Xena finally released her, "You can start by getting me a drink. Scotch and soda-- hold the soda."

"Starting off with the strong stuff?" The bard grinned.

Xena examined the painting again and turned back to her lover. "Better make that a double."

"Okay okay-- I get the picture. Hang on, I'll be right back." She returned to the crowd that ebbed and swirled around each painting and was soon swallowed by their well-turned-out bodies.

As she slipped back into the flow, Gabrielle pretended not to hear the quiet sigh from Xena. When she had asked the dark woman two weeks ago to come to the opening, she knew Xena had been hoping to squirm out of it. In their first year together, Xena had worked hard to keep Gabrielle's busy and varied public life separate from the world they created when together. The bard was well aware that most of her mortal friends looked askance on her sudden relationship with the former prostitute and believed that the dark woman was somehow manipulating the wealthy Gabrielle. I suppose if one of them turned up with a mysteriously beautiful woman who had no past except as a streetwalker, I might raise a brow of my own. But I certainly don't think I'd immediately assume she was some manipulative, gold-digging predator...

The few attempts Xena had made to "mingle" in Gabrielle's daylight world had been... difficult at best. The immortal knew that her associates were pleasant enough when their employer was around, but eventually one or the other of them would comment bitingly on Xena's... station... in the red-head's household when they thought Gabrielle was out of earshot. They're so concerned with their own advancement... No wonder Xena terrifies them. She makes it so obvious she doesn't have the slightest desire to be like them. And they can't understand that. They always have to have an angle, so they assume she does too... the small woman thought with anger. The first time Gabrielle had called one of the cowards on the carpet about his ill-considered remark, Xena's face had gone white with a silent rage, and when they were alone she had launched into a tirade that had shaken the honey-haired woman to the core. "I won't have them thinking I'm hiding behind your skirts, Gabrielle. Let them say what they want... and let them say it to my face. There's no law that says they have to like me to do their jobs. Do you understand me?"

That had been the last time Gabrielle had interceded between her lover and her colleagues. However, she had introduced Xena to a group of people who had embraced her dark lover with an overwhelming enthusiasm. She supposed it should seem strange that the only people who didn't begrudge her relationship with Xena were the wealthiest and most established of the lot. But actually, it made perfect sense. In addition to the small stables she kept at her main house, Gabrielle owned a horse farm in Connecticut that specialized in breeding hunter-jumpers. The jumper classes were an old, old money avocation, but those who moved in that world lived and breathed the sport with a kind of rabid devotion.  The only prerequisite for admission to that world was a love of the animal and talent for nurturing it. Everyone was baffled as to why the honey-haired woman who didn't ride had a string of championship horses-- but for the bard, the stables were sort of a living remberance of her traveling days with the warrior-- and she usually left the farm in the capable hands of her trainers.

She had taken Xena to "Argo Farms" on a whim-- mostly just to get out of the hot city and not daring to hope that this urban child would show the same affinity for the animals that her warrior had. But the rapport between woman and beast had been instant. The first time Gabrielle had seen Xena mounted, despite her best efforts, she had burst into tears-- much to her lover's consternation. The vision of Xena mounted on a spirited, cream-colored gelding had been too much for the bard, so strongly had her love for her warrior called to her. She had brushed Xena's concerns away with a weepy smile and a quiet whisper. "You just look so beautiful up there, my love."

They had spent a month at the farm, where both women had discovered Xena had a natural gift for working with the large animals. In an obscenely short amount of time, the dark woman had mastered the art of taking the animals over the large jumps, of learning to read the horse's fears, of pushing them when they needed it and gentling them when they were scared. "I've never seen anything like it," the stable's trainer told Gabrielle one day. "It's like she knows what they're thinking, and they trust her. Most riders would give their eyeteeth for what she's got-- and they've spent their lives on horseback." When the season started in Florida this year, the pair hoped to be able to travel with the string for a little while. There was a two-year old gelding that Xena had worked with at the farm who showed a lot of promise. Besides, it will be a great vacation for us... To get away from all... this... She glanced at the expensive crowd milling around her. I know how she hates this...

Gabrielle continued to bob and weave with the crowd in kind of a nonmusical, social square dance-- changing partners and conversations, dropping sentences here and there, ultimately working her way to the bartender. "I need a Scotch and soda-- hold the soda-- and a glass of white wine." Whew... remind me to suggest to Spence that we have more than one bar at these things from now on. That walk's a killer.

"Gabrielle?" A smooth voice behind her garnered her attention.

She turned to find a distinguished man of about forty-seven standing before her. He had adorably tousled black hair that was just beginning to run to gray, and a slightly rumpled air, despite his immaculately tailored suit. She cocked her head. "Do I know you?"

He smiled agreeably and shook his head. "Unfortunately we've never met. But I have heard a lot about you." He offered his hand. "Martin Berman. I'm a publisher with Ballantine Books."

Gabrielle took the proffered hand and nodded. "That's a fine house, Mr. Berman, but I'm afraid you still have me at a disadvantage. I know nothing about you."

"Well, I hope we can rectify that." He kept grinning at her, and it was such a gleeful I-can't-believe-my-dumb-luck grin that she couldn't help but return it.

Retrieving her hand from their shake, Gabrielle accepted the drinks from the waiting bartender. "Thanks Ted," she said absently. "So how do you know so much about me?" Despite her nonchalant tone, the immortal was extremely concerned. Although she had acquaintances far and wide, the immortal kept a fairly low profile. For obvious reasons. "Do we have a mutual friend?" she finished.

That grin again. "In a manner of speaking. Do you remember Louis?"

It was said with such a breathless air that Gabrielle thought he must be expecting some cataclysmic reaction. But the name jarred no such response from the small woman. "I'm sorry. Who?"

"Louis. You met him in Paris."

"Well," she smiled, "I've met a lot of people in Paris. I go there a couple of times a year."

"Then let me narrow the visit down for you. Actually you were living there. It was the year when your lover killed a pimp who was accosting a young woman and was observed by a vampire, whom she subsequently brought home to be introduced to you. His name was Louis. And the year was 1896-- to be exact. Does that ring a bell?"

Gabrielle felt the color drain from her face and an unnatural cold descend. She took a deep breath and concentrated on the man in front of her. Narrowing her eyes, she studied this Martin Berman. "You're not one of the Dark Children," she said finally.

"No, I'm not. I'm just what I said I was. A book publisher."

"And you think you have some book in this Louis?"

"There's already been a book. I think you've probably heard of it-- Interview with a Vampire?"

Gabrielle sighed as the memories came flooding back. That Louis... Gods I remember now... The salon, the quiet laughter that surrounded her life with the warrior. They had finally achieved some measure of peace... And all of it was destroyed within the span of a year.  The salon burned to the ground by Armand's people looking for Louis and Claudia. And then Xena was gone... Callisto's maniacal laughter rang in her ears, as fresh today as it had been a century ago. The bard looked at him, suddenly feeling every one of the years in the two millennia she had walked the earth. "What do you want?" She asked wearily.

He seemed to sense her despair, for his face softened. "I just-- I just want to talk to you. One of my agents found Louis' writings about you. Even before I met you, I believed in Louis, in what he told the world.

"Believing in Louis changed the way I viewed life around me. So many people laughed when Louis first stepped back into the daylight world, and they called Interview a publicity stunt. But it felt so true to me. And now-- searching for you, Gabrielle-- it's taken me to places I never dreamed existed, places that are so far beyond what Louis wrote about. I can't believe I've been there, talked to those people, talked to you. Don't you see--"

Surfacing from her shock long enough to realize they were in a crowded gallery where there was no such thing as a private conversation, she held out an abrupt hand. "We can't talk now," she said harshly. Knowing she couldn't just dismiss this man from her life. He knew who she was. But she sensed no violence in him or intent to harm. And that puzzled her. Usually when people-- mortal or immortal-- sought her out, more often than not it was for some nefarious purpose. And that sorely tasked her naturally optimistic disposition. Life on the road with Xena had stripped her of naiveté. Dahak had taken her blood innocence. But she steadfastly refused to surrender her intrinsic belief that most people wanted to do good.  "I suppose if you found me at this gallery then you know where I live?" She didn't even want to imagine how he found that out... I hope the Children aren't getting restless again...

"Um no, actually."

Good, that's one thing I don't have to worry about then. She blew out a breath. "Tell me where you're staying and I'll send a driver for you in the morning."

"Great."

After taking his card, she dismissed him with a curt, "Leave. Now." And went to find her lover. She wanted nothing more than to take Xena by the hand, lead her out of this nonsense, and lose herself in the heat of the dark woman's touch. Gods, I should have just let her talk me out of going. I am absolutely nuts.

She do-si-do'ed her way through the thronging crowd, easily spotting her lover's tall form. She stopped some distance away, smiling to herself at the elegant vision of her partner. She was wearing a deep indigo Versace dress that smoothly clung to the well-defined muscles of her body. When Xena had modeled the dress for her this evening in a teasing spin, Gabrielle had taken one look at the length of thigh exposed by the dress' long slit, and they had almost not made it to the opening.

As she soundlessly approached, she noticed an increasing tension in the atmosphere, and a hastily falling silence as she drew nearer. She recognized the hawkish eyes and elegantly groomed hair of one of her financial officers, Simon Bedford. Gabrielle truly disliked the man-- there was a leering quality to even his most benign statements-- but he performed impeccably on the job. Now she heard his unctous tones addresing Xena. "It's fairly obvious you have-- certain-- talents," An appraising glance ran down the dark woman's form. "Tell me-- what would I have to do to-- enjoy-- those talents of yours? Or has our esteemed employer paid for exclusive rights?"

A surge of rage washed through the immortal's veins. "I haven't paid for anything..." came the icy reply. Neither Xena nor her "suitor" had heard Gabrielle's arrival in the crowd. An angry green fire snapped in her eyes as she regarded her soon-to-be-ex-employee.

Simon blanched at the fury so clearly etched on his employer's features, and Gabrielle could see his alcohol-befuddled brain desperately trying to come up with an impossible save. They now had everyone's undivided attention, and Gabrielle realized there would be no discreet solution to the altercation. Quite frankly, that was fine with her-- she had let a lot of things slide because Xena wanted to keep their private and public lives separate. It was going to be a pleasure to finally put one of these guys in his place, letting everyone know just how important Xena was to her. At times like this she wished she still had her Amazon staff, because right now she'd like nothing more than to beat the stuffing out of both Simon Bedford and Martin Berman. This night was not turning out well at all.

"Do you have something to say to me, Simon?" Gabrielle's voice rang out in the now-silent gallery.

The man in question had broken out into a sweat of desperation. "I-- I-- I--" he stuttered.

"Gabrielle," came the growling voice of her lover. "This doesn't concern you," she warned.

Pale brows flew up in dramatic surprise. "Excuse me? How does this not concern me?" I know I promised to let you handle them, love, but I will not have him-- or anyone-- thinking you're some toy I bought. Not when you mean so much more to me...

"I believe Simon was calling me a whore, not you." Xena smiled tightly at the smaller woman. "So I'll take care of this." Turning back to her tormentor, she uncoiled one long arm and backhanded him sharply across the face, sending him reeling backwards into the crowd. Stalking over to where he lay slumped on the floor, she regarded him contemptuously. "Even as a whore on the sidewalk, I always had the power to say No. And my answer to you, Mr. Bedford, was, is, and always will be-- No."

Turning on her heel, she offered her hand to Gabrielle, who grasped it firmly as they left the flabbergasted crowd to their gossip. Xena remained silent during the long walk out of the gallery and as they waited for their limousine. Only when they were ensconced comfortably in the back of the car did she speak. "Well.." she paused. "I think that went well."

You've never spoken about it, love... the immortal mused, idly studying her lover's profile... the life you left to come with me... Of course I haven't asked. I never wanted to imagine hands other than mine reaching for you. I didn't want to know if you affected your pleasure, because I never wanted to fear that what you showed me was anything less than genuine... I know nothing of your origins, nothing of your life before me... Sometimes I think I've conjured you through the sheer power of my longing... And then you turn and look at me with that smile... Fantasy or no, when I take you in my arms... everything else falls away. Is it like that for you?

"Gabrielle?" The rumbling purr coaxed the bard from the depths of her contemplation, and she realized with a start they were in their bedroom. "We're home."

The moonlight pouring through the wide panes of the French doors limned her lover in silvery shadows as the immortal clasped their hands together, blessing each long finger with a kiss. "Xena-- that... man-- I'm so sorry--" she began.

"Shh..." The dark woman untwined their hands and brushed her fingers across Gabrielle's lips. "Don't..." She ghosted gentle kisses across her partner's eyelids. "His words meant nothing to me."

"But--"
 
"Gabrielle..." Molten blue eyes gazed solemnly back at the small woman. "It's who I was. Nothing can change that, but it's different now... I'm different..." A crooked smile. "I hope you know that."

It was so long ago... Maybe as long as a life-time... Some dank tavern, pouring rain and cold, when they were both so exhausted the bard was convinced they were going to drop at any second... Xena was bleeding from a shallow cut over her eye and her long body was covered in bruises from head to foot. The warrior had spent the day clearing out a nest of slavers nearby, with no help from the townspeople... A group of farmers bolstered by liquid courage had made jeering mutters about how the mighty had fallen. They had thrown Cirra and half a dozen other burned villages in her face as she quietly led the bard to their room. Gabrielle remembered how, once safely behind a thick oak door, she had angrily asked why the warrior hadn't defended herself. "I was who I was, Gabrielle," the warrior had shrugged. "I can't change that, but I'm different now..." She had wrapped long, warm arms around her lover and held her close. "I hope you know that..."

"I do..." the bard had answered then, just as she did now. So close were her dark lovers, clutching their pain tightly to them like a second skin to protect the delicately soft underbelly of their humanity. She found herself soothing this mortal the way she had soothed her warrior-- offering her mouth, her skin, her touch as the healing salve for a damaged soul. Her tongue danced gentle steps in the inviting warmth of Xena's mouth. Her immortal's senses felt the immediate increase in her lover's heartbeat-- knew that this Xena... her Xena... needed to bury herself in the searing comfort of their embrace.

Deft fingers slid the silk from the tall woman's shoulders, and showers of kisses cascaded across the bronze skin. "Do you have any idea of what just looking at you does to me?" she murmured, the familiar heat coursing through her blood, and she instinctively curbed the darker call that her lover unknowingly elicited from this daughter of a god. They tumbled to the bed, a sensuous tangle of heat and desire, passion and hope. Long hours into the night they loved-- their bodies telling truths that their words as yet could not say.

After Xena had fallen into a pleasantly spent slumber, Gabrielle lay awake still longer, pondering what to do about Martin Berman. It's as if he sees talking to me as some sort of vindication for his belief in Louis' existence. Like this is his reward. Bringing him to the house was not an option. Nor was his meeting Xena. Those in the dark circles believed the daughter of Ares long destroyed, and she didn't want any rumors started to the contrary that would endanger her young lover. Thinking about the earnestness in the book publisher's face, she realized she could not send him away empty-handed either. Just as the Dark Children had not spoken to mortals about the daughters of the Olympians, neither had she spoken about them. There was were scrolls that weren't in any archives, she remembered. One in particular would be of interest to Berman. Just as Louis had told this man about her, so she would tell him about Louis. That, and not herself, would be the mortal's reward. Smiling contentedly at her decision, she curled her arms around Xena's broad shoulders and promptly fell asleep.

Her rest was short-lived, however, for she soon woke to the gentle weight of Xena's dark head pillowed against her breast. For over a millennia the bard had slept in just that position-- cradled in her warrior's strength. Now she provided the protective arms that cocooned her mortal lover's slumber. She glanced over at the windows to see dawn's stealthy approach along the floor, watching it send hesitant tendrils curling along the silken edges of their evening dresses.

The immortal basked in the quiet joy of holding the dark woman close, relishing her role as guardian. The snug pressure of Xena's hips tucked against one of her thighs added a pleasant warmth to her early musings, and briefly her mind turned to things more visceral. She ran a teasing hand down the lean planes of her lover's skin, feeling the exact instant that Xena's senses crossed the waking threshold. Still-- she noted-- her lover remained silent, her breathing deep and even. A wicked smile drifted across  Gabrielle's face. The touches became defter, more knowing-- until with a low growl, Xena murmured, "You are such a tease."

"You were the one playing possum," came the reply.

Lazy blue eyes regarded her in the argentine dimness. "Can you blame me?" The tall woman rolled over and stretched thoroughly, presenting the length of her body for her lover's tactile inspection. "Mmm... that feels good," she smiled, arching into the sensitive stroke of Gabrielle's fingers.

Their mornings often began this way, in a delicate ritual of touch. For Gabrielle it was almost as if they were reassuring themselves that their life together was indeed reality and not a delicious dream borne of Morpheus' diaphanous spell.

"What's wrong?" Xena asked softly.

"What do you mean?"

"Usually I have to tap-dance on your head to wake you up. It's barely dawn." A wryly arched brow smiled in her direction. "And you're wide awake. I'd guess you have something on your mind."

Oh gee, not much-- just immortality, a dead lover whom  you resemble so much it makes my soul ache, and a stranger who threatens our life together. Where should I start? Aloud, she merely said, "I guess so."

Xena made a silent gesture that said "Out with it..."

Bard or no, Gabrielle didn't have the words. She simply looked at Xena and sighed. Then a quiet whisper: "We don't really talk about the past much."

There was a long pause before the dark woman's hoarse reply. "Is there something wrong with living in the present?"

Gabrielle could see the sudden wariness that clouded her lover's eyes, and she braced herself against a pain that sank deep into her bones. "No--" Taking a deep breath, she cupped Xena's face in her slender hands and smoothed the furrowed brow. "But like you said, it's a part of who you are-- it helped create this woman with whom I'm sharing my life. And I'd like to know her a little better." Aware as she spoke that she was opening herself to the same questions and unsure of what she would say when the time came.

The dark woman shifted restlessly away from the smaller woman, sitting up and wrapping a long arm around her knees. For an eternal moment, Gabrielle feared she had broken the gossamer bond that had heretofore linked them-- despite their respective silences. Then Xena turned somber eyes upon her love. "I can't tell you what I don't know."

The immortal felt her heart lurch suddenly as an irrational certainty seized hold of it. "What-- what do you mean?"

"I woke up ten years ago in an alley, naked and covered in blood-- a screaming pain in my belly and one word in my ears. That word was 'Xena.'" She blew out a breath and ran a shaky hand through her disordered hair. "I didn't know who I was or where I came from... but I knew my name was Xena."

"The blood?" Gabrielle asked hesitantly. "Were you hurt?"

Xena shrugged. "Not a mark on me. This guy named Marco found me, cleaned me up, and gave me some food. He was a pimp, so he turned me out to the streets. I stayed there-- in one way or another-- until I met you. That's pretty much it."

"That's it?" The smaller woman repeated, stunned. Typical Xena. A life story in five sentences or less.

A crooked smile. "No, there's one more thing. You know that pain in my belly?"

She nodded.

"The minute I saw you, Gabrielle-- it went away. It's like you answered some... longing... in me... that I didn't even know I had." She twisted her body to face the immortal. "That's when I knew... no matter who you were or what you wanted from me... I had to stay with you. It's that simple."
 
Silence lurked between them as Gabrielle pondered the impossibility of what she was thinking. She didn't know how much of it was true and how much of it was wrestled into being by the brute force of the bard's love for the warrior. Nor, she realized with a new and glorious awareness, was the "truth" relevant. It is that simple, isn't it, my love? Nothing else matters-- not immortality, not gods, not warriors and not bards... We complete each other...

Helios' dawn was reflected in her incandescent smile as she took the dark woman in her arms. "I love you, Xena." It was an immortal's vow that encompassed eternity and pledged Gabrielle's soul until the long night of time closed in.

Xena's reply was delivered on the breath of their kiss, "As I love you, my bard..."

Martin Berman was wide awake long before the message arrived. Delivered with a flourish by a black-uniformed chauffeur who handed him a creamy parchment envelope and an exquisitely carved mahogany box. Tearing open the envelope, he stared at the same flowing script that Louis had stared at a century ago.

Martin--

Forgive me for not doing this in person... but the answers you seek are not within me. How could I begin my tale when immortality has rendered beginnings moot? When my life had long since ceased being about beginnings and endings and was-- until now-- simply about endurance.

If you feel you must know my story-- my life with Xena is in the scrolls. The stories of the warrior and the bard are well-documented in the Covington-Pappas Archives. If you seek the meaning of immortality-- that I cannot give you. For though the state was granted to me by my sire, as Xena's was by hers-- we had no choice in the matter. We were born-- and thus we lived.

I do have one thing for you, my mortal student. It is a story that your Louis couldn't have told. I believe there was another-- what did you call them?-- vampire you are familiar with named Lestat. Years before we met Louis, Xena and I encountered Lestat in New Orleans-- the box that arrived with this message contains that tale.

I trust your discretion, Martin. There is a reason why Louis did not include his story of our meeting in his book. Bear that in mind as you read this.

Be well,

Gabrielle
 

Martin tossed the note down on the desk, feeling curiously satisfied and deprived at the same time. He supposed he could track her down a second time, but the Ancient Bard was respected and very feared in the Dark Circles. He had no desire to risk her wrath should he seek her again. His mortal life was already forfeit to the Dark Child who led him to Gabrielle, and Martin had just seen his last dawn breaking over the city's stark skyline. Nightfall would place him securely in the outer orbit of the Netherworld, and perhaps his path would cross hers in the new life that awaited him. Like Louis, however, he doubted it. Settling himself squarely in a patch of sunlight streaming through the window panes, he lifted the latch on the box and removed the bound parchment. Cracking the waxen seal-- a delicate carving of an intertwined sword and quill-- he sighed deeply and began to read...
 
 

Well gang, that's it. The story of how Xena and Gabielle meet Lestat can be found in the forthcoming story "The Immortal Scrolls: Story I." Thanks for reading. S.

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