Among Friends

The following is a bit of alternative fiction based on certain characters from the Xenaverse. It is not meant to infringe on anyone else's rights. If you don't agree or disapprove, please go read something else.

Her fellow Amazons teased her a lot about burying herself in the scrolls, but really, the red head got out more than her Amazon sisters thought. It wasn't that she didn't like people. She did. But she found solace in solitude, in listening to the wind. Like now. She was seated in a quiet grove, listening to the breeze tickle through the leaves. It was a crunchy sound, but she liked it. Sometimes the woman felt like if she could just listen close enough, she'd hear the words behind the whispers wind makes. She did that a lot, listened.

Then there was the way air carried scents. She loved that too. Like waking up to the smell of honeysuckle or even breakfast. Her stomach gurgled at the thought. Another thing people teased her about. Appetite. She sighed and shrugged, letting her mind drift away from unpleasantness. Then there was the scent of the earth itself, wild and invigorating, sometimes wet and inviting, like a lover. That's what called to her this morning. She'd brought a few scrolls to read, a bit of fruit to eat, but those were set aside for the moment so she could feel the cool morning breeze against her skin before it got too hot.

She liked moments like this where she could embrace the quiet of being alone. It almost made up for the emptiness she felt inside. She knew that was an odd thing. Most people (or so she'd observed) filled their emptiness with noise or drink or something. But this aloneness consoled that hidden grief. It was as if, since she couldn't find what it was she was looking for, then the gods made it bearable, almost pleasurable to be alone. It almost felt good, when she wasn't trying to plug the missing pieces in her soul with something else.

She'd tried filling the void with Valona, Skula's Chieftess. She'd been attracted to the oddly familiar sense of power and the danger exuded by the warrior. It was why she'd taken the dark woman as a lover, though the Chieftess was sometimes hurtful. She could admit that. The fair woman absently rubbed her bruised wrist and shivered at the shift in the wind. It was cool against her sun freckled skin and she embraced herself, thinking.

Of course, it hadn't worked. She shouldn't have supposed anything would, she guessed, but this was as close to love as she'd ever come and she was reluctant to lose it. She'd spent too much time cultivating the relationship. She blew out a breath and reached for the scroll, hand delivered yesterday. The redhead wasn't sure why she was so reluctant to share the item. She knew she should give the copy to Valona, but each time she'd get to the point where she could, some little thing would happen. She picked up the scroll and opened it and shook her head. Case in point. She'd picked up the wrong one.

It was one of the batch she had requested in her research efforts. She'd discovered references to several scrolls about the seven and she hoped to find the one relating to the law in question, so she'd had copies made and sent. It was an expense, but Valona had approved saying that if Eudora found even one item that would justify their cause, it was worth it.

Well, the air was sweet and things were quiet. She wasn't in the library and the ink was fresh so she could just read the thing. She opened the scroll and was soon lost to the rest of the world.

It was a story of the seven (most of the scrolls she'd ordered were). Well, not all of them, just two. Iris and Koren. They were described as beautiful warriors; one fair with flaxen hair, the other dark with hair like the night. Iris was a marksman with the bow, famous for her accuracy. Koren wielded the sword with an expertise that astounded most and had come from a village far from the center of the Nation.

They hated each other on sight. Iris thought Koren was backwoods and uncivil because of her rough courtesies. Koren thought Iris, a woman of the royal house, was too high and mighty for her own good. At different points both women, while with their friends, declared that they could do just as well or better than the other, using each other's specialized weapons.

Their Chieftess, being a very wise woman, felt the coming of spring in the air and declared a celebration which would include competitions as well as food and play. So, of course, the friends got involved. When Iris discovered the competition, through one of her friend's loose lips, she demanded to be taught the sword. The friend prevaricated on the training, saying she wasn't that good, but she'd teach Iris what she could. Then the friend proposed something sneaky. She told Iris that the best way to beat the barbarian was to learn Koren's ways. Meanwhile, Koren was going through similar events with *her* friends, with the outcome being that if she could find time to observe Iris' methods, maybe she would find a way to best the annoying woman.

Day after day they practiced, each working to overcome the clumsiness inherent in picking up an unfamiliar skill. Day after day they spied on each other. Iris would practice her bow in the morning since she wished to stay powerful in her true weapon. While Iris was using her bow Koren would watch with such intense scrutiny that she marked each flicker of the blonde's eyelids, each twitch of the fingers. Koren would practice with her sword in the evening (for if she were watching in the morning, she couldn't very well be practicing then) and Iris would watch with equal intensity, capturing in her heart and mind, the way Koren's muscles moved, the way she practically danced. In the afternoon they would skulk away to different sides of the village and diligently practice what they'd learn, until it seemed as if they could fit into each other's skin, their methods were so identical.

The day of the celebration arrived, bright and cheerful. The flowers were budding and blooming in a vast array of colors and scents. There were scads of people, dressed in festive attire. It looked like it was going to be a good day.

A field was chosen for the bow competition, which was to be held first. Among the competitors were Iris and Koren. Those who knew them expected biting words to be passed between the two, but instead, the time came to issue challenge according to custom and when it was their turn, they'd stood and stared at each other. Iris looked into pale gray eyes, while Koren spoke, reverently, "I challenge you." Iris accepted and that was that.

It was the oddest bowing event anyone had ever seen. Koren and Iris stood side to side. Where others bowing held no rhythm, theirs was in tandem, arcing and falling, arrows speeding to catch the marked centers. It seemed the farther away or the smaller the object, the more accurate they became. All others fell to the wayside, but the two Amazons continued as if of one mind, until the last challenge was met by the placing of arrows side by side on a tiny stuffed target. Needless to say, the friends were stunned, just stunned.

Koren turned to speak to Iris, intending to do much more than boast, but her friends pulled her away in a congratulatory mobbing. The only thing she could do was put the message in her eyes and in the reaching of her hand. Iris heard what was not said.

When the next challenge was issued, this time it was Iris who spoke, "I challenge you," and it was spoken as a lover's caress and accepted shyly, with a blush. It was like no other challenge Iris gave to any other. When their time came, as others nursed their egos and their wounds, Iris and Koren's blades met as if they were extensions of their bodies, sliding against each other sensually. Then, in silent agreement, they put each other to the test.

It was like the clash of the swords was music and they were dancing to the rhythm. It wasn't fancy, but it was beautiful and deadly. Perfect. It was so perfect there there was even imperfection. They weren't quite evenly matched. Koren was the taller of the two and she used that height. But Iris had prepared for the possibility and used her strength to her advantage. They battled hard, neither giving way, until finally, again as if of one mind, they slid to a halt and stood breathing, hip to hip, their swords between them. The Chieftess smiled in secret triumph.

The kiss that happened next was a logical thing, for by that time everyone knew, just by watching that they were of one heart. It couldn't be denied. They were given each other as prizes and joined that very night for Iris and Koren couldn't bear to be parted any more. And they never were.

Eudora pulled herself from the realm of the story and sighed blissfully, wishing, truly wishing that she could find her Iris or Koren, forgetting for a moment the twists in the cords of fate. The red head continued to read the little bit that was added, an author's commentary about the live's of the two Amazon heroes. It included bits of trivia about battles and Iris' inheritance of the crown. Eudora gasped, and grinned to herself, Oh she should have realized. Then she read on through short, but vivid descriptions of their joining with the seven and their lives afterward, and notations about other stories (oh she'd better write that down somewhere) until she came to the name of the author and realized that the story she'd just read had been written by one of the seven, one of Iris and Koren's lovers, Zandra, the archivist.

The knowledge thrilled her researcher heart and she wondered if the copier understood the implication. Certainly, it gave her a direction to start searching in. Hoping the other stories were by Zandra as well, Eudora stood up and gathered the scrolls and the fruit and headed back to her hut. She hadn't realized it yet, but she felt full.

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These pages were last updated: October 10, 1997

İOctober 1997