Bottled Tears

Written: 1999
© Julie Ruffell 1999
Timeline: Alternate reality, but Xena's death would have been before the events in "The Ides of March"
Disclaimer: Xena: Warrior Princess is the copyright property of Renaissance Pictures, Universal Studios and Studios USA. This fan fiction story was written for entertainment purposes only.
Description: Gabrielle goes to visit Xena's grave on the anniversary of the day she died. Told in the first person by Gabrielle.

"Bottled Tears"

I always polish her weapons. Every morning before I do anything else, I polish and sharpen her weapons, and I remember her. A woman like her should never be forgotten, even though she died thirty years ago today. Thirty years ago steel found its way through her skin. Thirty years ago she left me. Thirty years ago...I felt her blood on my hands.

She was Xena, a mighty warrior forged in the heat of battle. Forged in the heat of hatred and darkness; darkness which consumed her on her final days. A deadly rage of blood and death.

She was Xena, Warrior Princess, heroine...and friend. A mentor, a sister, someone I loved. Even now I can't forgive myself for what I did. I knew it had to be done, and that the Xena I loved would have wanted it that way, but it was the hardest thing I ever had to do. When I try to remember exactly how it happened, my mind blurs and my eyes fill with tears, which, despite my efforts to hold them back, now form small rivers down my wrinkled skin. Her freshly polished chakram is cold to touch, but it is nothing compared to the chill in my heart at the memory.

I look down at the table where an empty scroll awaits the touch of my quill. I never recorded down the tale of Xena's last days, because my friend died as the monster of her past, not as the heroine who fought for goodness and light. How can I stain all her good deeds with a story of blood and inner torture?

I stand and walk out of my home, her chakram still in my hands. There at my door is Argo, though not the mare of my warrior; rather the foal of that proud palomino trained like her mother. I mount her, for I'm no longer fearful of horses who cut through the winds like a blade.

Argo breaks into a gallop and soon we ride like a flash, dirt tearing up behind us. My hair whips into my face, as Argo and I move as though in flight. It seems like only a few moments have passed when Argo slows to a trot. We've been here so often I no longer have to command her. Argo begins to graze after I dismount.

Before me lies the cave, its mouth that of a hungry lion, which will soon swallow me into its dark belly. I clutch her chakram to me, drawing her strength into my heart. Every time I come, my legs seem to forget that I command them. I stand frozen at the entrance, knowing that the only thing inside is death. Inside is her body, the grim and vivid reminder that she will never come back to me.

Taking a deep breath, I clutch the chakram tighter and step inside, darkness swallowing me. I light a torch and the room illuminates, showing me the resting places of brother and sister. One is Lyceus, and the other is Xena. I lay a flower on Lyceus' sarcophagus and then I move before Xena.

The tears have begun to spill down my face again, the sight of where her body lies, stirring those emotions I had fought down. I am overwhelmed with guilt; guilt because I killed her. I killed my best friend.

"Gods Xena, how could I kill you? I should have tried harder to reach you, but the hate I saw in your eyes, it frightened me and it didn't seems possible to bring you back. But what if you didn't have enough time to erase the sins of your past? Are you in Tartarus, cursing my name? Why did you have to be engulfed by your hatred? Why couldn't I free you? It's all my fault, and I don't know how I've lived with it for so long!"

My hands are folded over my head on her sarcophagus, when there is suddenly a blinding light that fills the room. I look up to see Xena standing before me. "Xena," I whisper, and then I break into wracking sobs. Her hand touches my head and she guides me into her powerful arms. Oh how I have missed her! But this can't be real. I don't care. My arms wrap around her slender form, and I hold her tightly, my head on her shoulder, and tears burning my skin. Her gentle hands stroke my hair, and she quietly comforts me with an almost silent voice. Then she uses a finger and turns my head so our eyes meet.

"Gabrielle, it wasn't your fault," she tells me.

"How can it not be my fault? I killed you, Xena!"

"No. No, you freed me, You kept me from committing any innocent deaths, which would have landed me in Tartarus."

"You're in the Elysian Fields?" I ask.

"Yes, Gabrielle, and I'll be there waiting for you when it's your time, but that's not now. I want you to live your life, Gabrielle, and stop blaming yourself. You did what you had to do, for the world, and for me. It's me who is guilty. I let my hate blind me once more, and look what I did to you. Look what you had to do. I'm sorry."

I hold her tighter when I see the tears in her eyes. We hold each other and we cry together, releasing a life-time of bottled tears.

I lift my head and see that Xena is gone. Was she even here? I slowly rise on shaky legs, and I wipe my eyes, standing once more at Xena's sarcophagus. I can tell she was here, since the chakram is now placed on the lid, no longer in my hands. Xena wants me to move on with my life, and I know she's right. We'll be together again one day.

My lips touch the chakram, as I kiss my warrior good-bye and step out of the lion's mouth, into the warm sun. I move over to Argo, and I take out a scroll and quill. I sit underneath a tree, and I begin to write the story of Xena, Warrior Princess, hero...and friend.

FIN