"Story Time" is copyright © 1997 by Morgan MacLeod, all rights reserved. Do not distribute, archive, or repost without prior permission from the author.

Xena and Gabrielle belong to MCA/Renaissance Pictures. Some characters herein are also based on situations belonging to Paramount. All these characters are used here in a strictly non-profit manner, and their appearance is in no way intended to infringe on the trademarks of MCA, Renaissance Pictures, or Paramount.

"As sure as I can be. If it were my call, that's where I'd start the hunt." Rillian took the glass from her and slipped it back into her beltpouch.

Xena smiled. "Then that's where we'll start." Narrowing her eyes slightly, she turned south towards distant Thalassepolis. "Once we see what kind of help that young idiot brings back."

Rillian chuckled warmly. "The lad's heart is all right, even if he's lacking in sense. And he loves that girl of his. With Chloe at his side, he might even make a fine man some day. And this is, after all, her idea. He'll bring us what we need."

Xena shrugged, dropping down to sit on her heels in the thigh-high grasses which grew around and over the hillock where they stood. "Good thing one of them has a brain." She looked west, eying the sun's height above the horizon. "Still a few hours 'til sunset."

Rillian lowered herself to the ground, stretching out with her head and shoulders braced against a rock and her long legs crossed. "May as well get comfortable - unless you want to head back and check on Gabrielle and the girl?"

Xena looked at Rillian from the corner of her eye. "Hadn't planned on it. Gabrielle can take care of herself. But if you wanted to head back and see how they are..." The unfinished question hung in the air.

The other woman shook her head. " No need. I agree with you. Gabrielle can take care of herself. She's really quite an amazing young woman."

Xena did not look at Rillian. "Yes, she is," she said, her voice edged with an undefined tension.

"The two of you are very close," Rillian continued, in a tone of deliberate neutrality.

"Gabrielle is my friend," Xena replied in a low voice that echoed with other words more fitting but unspoken.

"And a gifted bard, as well. Her work is very strong, for someone so young. I'm impressed, and I grew up listening to the very best. In time, she could be one of the great ones."

"I suppose so." Xena shifted slightly, relaxing as the topic of conversation moved to something less dangerous than feelings. Gabrielle the bard was easier to talk about than Gabrielle the woman. She stretched her legs in front of her, settling down on the grassy earth. "She's always telling me her stories. Practicing on me, she calls it. They sound just as good as anything I've ever heard from a palace bard, or temple poet. But I'm hardly an expert."

"Trust me on this. She's good. Of course, in many ways, you're making it easy for her."

"Oh? How am I doing that?

"Your life. Your battles. You. Your struggle to redeem yourself. Your deeds of heroism. Even if she never wrote one line about anything else, she would have a lifetime's worth of material, more than enough to make a name for herself. The Xena Chronicles." Rillian paused for a moment, then continued with a tone of utter neutrality. "Her gift could so easily be lost if she didn't have you to inspire her. Or if she had other things to distract her from her art. If she were living the life of, say, a farmer's wife."

Xena's voice was low, her instincts roused again for some threat in Rillian's words. "She might not agree with you there."

"She might not always have known it. She might even have tried to turn away from it. But she can't hide from herself. It's the truth. Even a naive young village girl can see that."

"And what does that mean?"

"Chloe said it very well, I thought. She and her stalwart young beau are ordinary people. Trouble comes, they summon up the courage to face it, but all they want to do is live ordinary lives. Not like you. Or me. Or Gabrielle. We might think, for a time, that we'd like to be ordinary, but it never lasts. We have a destiny."

Xena looked sharply at Rillian, her eyes flashing. "You seem unusually interested in the subject of Gabrielle's destiny," she said, her voice still soft and low, but with an element of some emotion that tinged her comment with the essence of a warning.

Rillian sat up, and met Xena's eyes, and held them with an intensity of her own. "I am no threat to you, Xena. Gabrielle belongs at your side, not mine."

The silence between them grew, until at last Xena looked away. "That's for Gabrielle to say," she whispered.

Rillian's next words struck like a swordthrust. "Have you ever asked her?"

Xena rose suddenly to her feet, eyes wild, her words locked in her throat. "She's my friend," she repeated at last, simply, as if that explained it all. She continued, in a matter-of-fact tone that seemed somehow forced, "I think I'll head toward the village, see if there's any sign of Leonides and his friends. You keep watch here." She turned her back on Rillian, and began to walk away.

"Xena, don't run from it." The warrior stopped in her tracks, but did not turn. "I have only this to say to you," Rillian continued, springing to her feet. "I am older than I seem, and I have known many things in my time. One thing that I have never seen is a friendship destroyed because one friend opened her heart fully, without demand or expectation, to the other." Xena took a halting step away from her. "You will never know for certain until you ask her, Xena."

Xena turned around. "What do you know about it?"

"What I see, and hear. The things you do not see or hear. The things you are afraid to see and hear."

Xena's voice was almost a growl. "What do you know?" she repeated.

"I know many things. What you're asking now is not mine to tell. We both know whose right it is to give you those answers. But you have to ask her."

A flurry of emotions swept across Xena's face as she stood, facing Rillian in silence. Then her face closed into a mask, and she turned and walked away without a word. Rillian watched her walk away, towards the bluffs that overlooked the pounding sea, then sat once more in silence, eyes upon the road from Thalassepolis.

Xena walked through the tall grasses without thought, blindly headed away from Rillian, away from the forest where Gabrielle's presence was suddenly like a blazing fire that gave heat and light for miles around, away from the village she had come here to save from a nightmare. Her feelings, so recently mastered and brought to heel, or so she had thought, were now swirling madly within her once more, freed from the iron rule she had imposed on them by Rillian's relentless prodding. She struggled to regain control. She could not risk taking action of any kind while her mind boiled so furiously with suspicion, hope and fear. Harshly she forced herself to think.

What lay behind the veiled words Rillian had spoken, not just now, but for days now. Could it be that this stranger had seen through her defenses and spied out the deeply hidden desire within. And if she had, what was her purpose in urging Xena to reveal herself to Gabrielle. Had she seen something in Gabrielle, something Xena had once thought was there, but had explained away. Or was her purpose darker. Could she hope that by luring Xena into a declaration of love, the innocent Gabrielle might be frightened, and sent running into the shelter of another, gentler pair of arms.

Once she had thought that Gabrielle was coming to share the love that burned within her. Once, she had seen the promise of a slow ripening passion between them, and she had been content to wait, and let time and nature take its course. And then all her hopes had been dashed to the earth, rent into pieces and ground into dust beneath the boots of a farmer turned soldier who dreamed of turning farmer once more. Xena had accepted that choice, believed it the decision of a knowing, loving heart that had turned from her. But was it possible that Gabrielle had not chosen Perdicas over her in that cursed temple, but was answering the call of some other demand than love. How could she know the truth, unless she asked.

Fear gripped her heart. What if all her hopes, all of Rillian's insinuations, were mistaken. What if Gabrielle was bound to her only with the bonds of friendship. What if these fierce passions that had again been aroused within her were destined only to be locked away once more.

Tears leaked from the corners of her tightly clenched eyelids, as the pain of that thought ripped through her. Yes, what if there was no love, no passion, no desire in Gabrielle's heart for her. She remembered other moments of such pain in her past. She had known rejection before, and survived. One thing she knew for certain, Gabrielle would never betray her, as others had. They were friends, and nothing could change that. Here was another truth that Rillian had made her see. It would hurt, it would be awkward for a while, but perhaps it would be easier to set the need aside, if even the secret embers of hope were dead. For she had to admit to herself that, no matter how she tried, she had never been able to root out every tendril of hope that grew in the recesses of her soul.

No, Rillian was right. She could not keep on as she had done since the first of her hopes had been crushed. Battling the twinned hope and fear within her was starting to take its toll. She should have realised that the night before, when she had come so close to taking Gabrielle without thought, without consideration. For her own peace of mind, for the sake of their friendship, if that was all it could be, and even more for the sake of any chance of love that might exist, she had to speak.

As she came to her decision, a wave of tranquility washed slowly over her. This was right, she could feel it. But now was not the time. There was too much to be done, and too many people to deal with. And yet, there was danger here, and it would be so ironic if, having found her way to this decision, she should meet her final enemy here in these mountains, and die with her love unspoken. There would have to be a moment, at least, when she could say something to Gabrielle. She would find a way.

Taking a deep breath, she looked down to see the waves crashing in against the rocky shoreline below the sandy bluffs on which she stood. She smiled to herself, feeling the force of the water and the wind coursing through her. For the first time in months, she felt at one with herself, and with the world. Grinning fiercely, she drew her sword, beginning to flow through the opening motions of a practise drill with delight and abandon. Her arm moved of its own accord, thrust, low parry, lunge, high parry, block, shifting to more intricate and demanding moves as she gained speed, dancing with the wind and her sword along the high ridge of the bluffs. Without breaking her rhythm, she drew her dagger and began a double edged symphony of flashing blades, laughing out loud with the joy of it as she spun at the centre of the whirlwind of metal. An exultant ululation poured from her throat as she ended her swordplay in a twisting somersault, coming to land, feet firmly planted, blades sheathed, in utter stillness. A smile still on her lips, she walked back towards the scheduled meeting place in the golden glow of the setting sun.

Rillian was waiting for her, lounging on the same hillock, watchful eyes keeping track of every movement on the flat plain that surrounded the sacrifice stone. Xena smiled at the other woman as she jumped to her feet and stood to face her. "You're a wise woman, Rillian."

"I do my best," she answered, smiling in return. "We should have some company soon. Are you ready?"

"Perfectly." Xena sat down, stretching her hand out to Rillian, who still stood beside her. "If we're going to wait, we may as well be comfortable."

The other woman dropped gracefully down beside her. "Seems I've heard that somewhere before."

"Could be," she said, still smiling at Rillian. "Thank you."

"Nothing to it."

As the sun crept below the horizon, they waited, and watched, and spoke of incidental, unimportant matters, as they sat concealed from other eyes by the thick, tall hay. At length, by the last withdrawing light of day, they saw in the distance a small band, no more than fifteen, approaching along the path that led from Thalassepolis to the huge rock that towered over the sward. Most carried weapons, some wore light pieces of makeshift or antique armour. All bore with them packs and satchels which Xena hoped would contain the supplies she had instructed Leonides to have his friends gather. Silently, Xena and Rillian watched as the troop of young men and women, Leonides at their head, halted by the rock. They milled about in some confusion, their voices carried on the evening winds to Rillian and Xena in their place of concealment.

"Well, we're here. Where is she, Leo?" Another voice took up the questioning. "You said she'd meet us here." Still another spoke. "Yeah, where is this Xena?"

Xena's voice rang out in the darkening dusk as she stood and walked briskly towards the knot of villagers, Rillian at her side. "Right here," she said. "Glad you could join us."