#I’m glad I finally get to use my classic lit minor

[fanficfeeling]

No Place Like Home - Jaskier x Modern!Reader

A/N: Jaskier x Modern!Reader for anon. Thanks for the request, I had a lot of fun with this! Also, I feel like all some of these references might be a little bit dated, which I didn't realize until they were all in there. They're all still fairly famous though, so I hope you don't mind! I went with she/her pronouns on this, but if anyone wants to see me start using gender neutral pronouns, please let me know, or just add specific pronoun requests in your requests!

Request: hi! a jaskier x reader request for the witcher! would love a one shot of a modern!reader, who decides to follow the boys, either about them singing modern songs or making stupid modern day references that they wouldn't understand!

Warnings: Possible second hand embarrassment ahead? Also Wonderwall

Word count: 2300

Requests are OPEN

~~~

Y/N starts her day like she does every other day: by opening her window and breathing in the comforting Velen air.

Y/N doesn't know how she ended up in this world. For the first few months, she searched for a way home, or even just for answers about why she found herself in this place. She ended up empty-handed, and with no more leads to follow. She was forced to give up, and start making her own way. It was by a pure stroke of luck that she'd ended up with the house, and with a fairly easy, flexible job to pay for it, and after a while, she found she preferred this life to her old one. She stopped wondering why, and let this place be home. After the few years she's been here, she finds she's glad it all happened the way it did.

She finds herself smiling as she looks out into her little village, reveling in the peace it offers.

"Get out of here, you filthy Witcher!"

And that shout from the main road was the end of Y/N's peaceful lack of involvement. As she saw people go running towards the sound of the growing shouts, Y/N quickly left her home and began to follow suit in that direction, eager and anxious to see what could cause such a fuss. When she reached the scene of the commotion, her shock was evident.

There, trying his best to make his way through this small village with a bard at his side, was a Witcher. An actual, real life Witcher.

Well, as real as this world actually is, anyway.

Even more shocking was the townspeople harassing the seemingly unassuming men -- it seemed that most of the town were in on heckling them, despite their usual, friendly neighbor attitudes. It seemed the Witcher was used to the treatment, as he did his best to shield himself and his horse and continued walking calmly forward, although the bard was a bit more theatrical in his defenses, holding up his lute to cover his face and sighing dramatically at every passing insult.

I wonder if this could be the pair that the internet flipped out over when that tv series came out before I left? I never got into it, but I'm fairly sure that's where I am, and their faces seem familiar.

Y/N's heart nearly stopped when the Witcher's golden eyes made contact with hers. It seemed to take him but a split second to make a decision and begin a new course in her direction. She held her breath the entire time he made his way over.

When he finally stopped, he stopped directly in front of her, looming over her, far closer then she expected him. He was shockingly intimidating.

"You don't seem in the business of heckling strangers. I'm here to clear out a noonwraith I'd heard of in the vicinity. Do you know anything about that?"

It took Y/N far too long to gather enough courage to speak, and when she did, she could only hope her voice wasn't shaking too much, "A... noonwraith? Oh, yes, the ghost in the abandoned barn, just a little ways out of town. It's, uh... been a nuisance for farmers and travelers for some time."

The Witcher let out a small, "hm." in response.

"I could... show you to the location, if you need assistance? I know this area very well, and I would be happy to assist you if you would rid us of the... wraith."

"Geralt! How could you leave me to fend for myself like that?" The bard came up behind the Witcher quickly, like a burst of raw energy. He smiled when he spotted the Witcher talking to the woman, "Hello! Thank you for not hurling insults at us as we walk past! My name is Jaskier, a humble bard, at your service." Swiftly, he reached for her hand and pressed a swift kiss to her knuckles.

"Oh! It's really no problem, It certainly does no harm to not go out of my way to be rude. My name is Y/N, it's nice to meet you."

"Y/N has offered to lead us to the noonwraith, Jaskier. Y/N, how soon can you be ready to go?"

"Oh, well, I'm off work today, and I really don't have that much to take care of this morning -- if you'll allow me to grab some better shoes I should be ready in minutes."

"Take your time, I need some to prepare potions for the battle."

"You can come spend some time at the tavern with me while we wait for him." Jaskier punctuated his sentence with a wink.

Y/N felt her heart palpitate, and she'd never scrambled to get ready so quickly for anything.

When she found him in the nearly deserted tavern, he sat with a notebook in his hands, writing something down leisurely. If he's a bard, Y/N assumed it was some sort of song.

"Jaskier, yes? May I join you?"

He flashed a smile up at her, "Anything for such a beautiful woman." Y/N felt herself flush at the compliment as she sat down.

"So, Y/N, where are you from? You don't have the Velen accent, nor do you have the same... dispositions as your fellow townsfolk, I can't imagine you were born and raised here."

Y/N felt her heart speed up once more, just a fraction, "I wasn't. I came here just a few years ago, just sort of ended up here by chance. I was looking for something, but it didn't exactly work out, and I just never really bothered to leave. I'm thankful enough for it, Velen suits me very well."

"Very cryptic and fascinating story! You are dodging my original question though."

"Only because I don't think you'd have heard of where I'm from. It's not very well known around here."

"I'm not from around here."

"I doubt it's well known where you're from, either."

Jaskier gave her a quizzical look, but left her odd behavior alone, "Well then, what does the mysterious lady do for fun?"

This was the thing Y/N struggled with the most in this world. Her access to all her favorite tv shows, books, and movies were gone, and all she was left with were the only few books she had at her disposal, most of them terribly dry reading. Even worse: every pop culture reference she ever knew was now rendered completely useless.

"Well, I read as much as I can, with what little I have, and I go for long walks, but other than that, I mostly just work. Not much to do around here, honestly. I sing a little to myself sometimes to pass the time-"

Jaskier's face lit up like a Christmas tree, "You sing? What songs do you know?"

"I highly doubt you'd have heard of any of them."

"Nonsense, my trade is music! At the very least, you must sing something for me!"

"No! I don't sing for other people-"

"But if I've never heard of these songs of yours, you must educate me!"

"That's not exactly my job-"

The pair only stop upon hearing a gruff voice clear behind them.

"Are the two of you done?" Geralt asks, a minor level of annoyance evident. Y/N is the first to scramble to her feet, embarrassed.

Their departure is smooth, and Y/N promptly informs the pair that the journey should take but a half an hour or so.  

In response, Jaskier slings an arm over Y/N's shoulder, flashing her a smile, "Plenty of time for you to teach me a song or two."

"Are you really back at this again? My answer is still no."

"But would it not benefit my musically inclined soul to be exposed to a bit of your culture, wherever it may be from? You mustn't let my poor, culturally deprived soul wither away like this, fair lady."

"Don't you travel for a living?" Before Jaskier could sass her further with another response, Y/N took a less than graceful stumble over a tree root.

Geralt stopped walking and grabbed her arm as she steadied herself, "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I think I'm fine. Unfortunate that such a lack of grace had to come out around near strangers, but that's on me, I suppose." She laughed it off, playing glaring at the root that tripped her, "I'm walking here!" She said quietly to herself in her best fake New York accent, reveling in her classic movie references that no one else in this world could understand. At least they brought her a little bit of personal joy.

"Y/N, did you just speak to that tree root?" Jaskier asked, trying his best not to look concerned, and failing miserably.

The lady flushed crimson, "Oh, no, well, actually yes, but it's just a -- well, I guess it's just a reference to something you wouldn't understand. I apologize, that must have looked odd."

Jaskier let out a small chuckle (which Y/N had to admit, was distressingly attractive), "You've said a lot of odd things so far, but I'm certainly not minding."

In an attempt to escape her ever-expanding blush, Y/N began walking ahead of the men, "Right, well, on we go then."

After but a minute of silence, Geralt spoke up, "Y/N, would it suit us better to take an actual path, instead of just cutting through the forest?"

Y/N turned back to him and shook her head, "This will get us there much quicker, if we cut through here we'll end up right across the field from where you're trying to go."

Jaskier shook his own head now, "For a non-native, you do know this area very well."

"Elementary, my dear Watson. To anyone living in the area, anyway. Besides, I take lots of walks, remember?" She laughed to herself, and quietly shook her head once more as another movie scene came to her, muttering quietly, "Roads? Where we're going, we don't need roads." Thankfully, the men seemed to not hear that second reference, but she failed to see as they turned to each other in confusion over the first.

Y/N's impressive knowledge proved accurate after about the half an hour she promised, as the trio cut through the trees and ended up in a large field, a run-down barn just visible on the other side.

"See? That's where you're trying to get to."

"Thank you very much, Y/N. I'll take it from here." With that, Geralt strode off through the field, radiating with purpose. He really was truly quite intimidating.

After a moment of silence, in which Jaskier decided to make himself comfortable as he sat down, Y/N spoke once more, "So do we just wait here now?"

"That we do."

"What if he doesn't come back?"

"He will. No need to worry your pretty little head about that. However, if you're concerned about the waiting time, you could sing me a song to pass it."

Y/N sighed, "You truly won't give that up?"

"I had no plans to."

"I never should have told you about that."

"Or perhaps it was destiny that you did."

"You're so determined to make clever remarks, but that one didn't even make sense."

"Fair enough. Perhaps I would stop talking nonsense if you would keep me occupied with a song."

"Fine! Fine." Y/N let her shoulders sag in defeat as she sighed. "What do you want to hear, then?"

Jaskier pretended to contemplate her question for a moment, but he spoke far too quickly when he replied, "Sing me something romantic."

"You sly bastard. Alright, let me think a moment. Uh..."

What's something easy to sing, something well known enough that I'll know all the words, something romantic? Oh, I have a bad idea.

"Well, I suppose this could be interpreted as romantic." Y/N had to suppress her laughter. "And it's terribly catchy, so I know all the words quite well. And it's been around for quite a while. A lot of people don't like it because it's sort of overdone-"

"Y/N."

"Alright, fine, anyway, here's Wonderwall.

Today is gonna be the day that they're gonna throw it back to you By now you should've somehow realized what you gotta do I don't believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now"

Before Y/N knew it, the song was over - perhaps she'd just heard it so many times she blacked out the rest of the song - and to her dismay, Jaskier began clapping.

"And you say you don't sing for other people. That was lovely."

"You only say that because you haven't heard the song a million times."

"Also because your voice is joy to listen to."

"Oh stop it, you're just saying that-"

"Oh, is that the battle you want to fight?"

~~~

By the time Geralt had slain the wraith, Jaskier had insisted that they walk Y/N home ("Geralt, she helped us out here, it's the right thing to do!" "I'm quite capable of finding my own way home." "We insist."), and the trio had finished their more leisurely walk back along the main road, it was approaching evening. Before Y/N even knew it, they were at her front door.

"Ah, here we are. Thank you gentlemen, for your assistance."

"And thank you for yours, my lady."

"Anytime, Geralt. It would be my pleasure to assist you again if you're in the area and need a guide."

"I may yet take you up on that. Until then, have a good evening."

"You too. Safe travels."

The duo began to walk away, leaving Y/N feeling just a little bit sad, when Jaskier turned around and walked back to her. When he reached her, he grabbed her hand and pressed yet another kiss to her knuckles, like he had that morning.

"I will surely be counting the days until I can have the privilege of hearing your voice and odd sayings again."

Before she could retaliate, he had run off, and soon he was out of sight. She felt a little less sad now.

This is a home worth having. Yes, I'm quite happy things turned out this way.

#jaskier x reader #jaskier x modern!reader #the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #modern!reader #should i tag wonderwall? #I'm tagging wonderwall #wonderwall #fluff #reader x jaskier #jaskier fanfiction #modern!reader x jaskier #mine #request #modern day references in a fantasy setting'

[starkerisendgame]

so I just learned TODAY that RDJ was trained in classical ballet, and we all know Tom was too, so what about a rom howney au where rob is a principal dancer and tom is a freshly promoted coryphee (member of the corps de ballet that gets a solo because they're particularly talented) and he gets to work with rob and he's starstruck because rob is a LEGEND and rob thinks he's so adorable skskjjdjhfjk sorry i just really love ballerina!aus

Alright! After fucken weeks of research and delving into more ballet porn than I’d ever presumed to watch, I finally managed to fulfil this. Once again, two parter. Because you all keep requesting detailed prompts and I fucking love it and have no self control.

Also; Robert is a principle dancer/premier ballerino but also largely a teaching figure. I don’t know, I’m just so attracted to the fact that Robert is undoubtedly a role model/leader figure to everyone he meets and I couldn’t resist the fact that such a status is basically an open invite into D/s porn.

I’m so used to Starker there may be the odd slip up between names. Idk, slap me. Or not, I’ll enjoy it.

[P.2][Promo + Moodboards]

Robert had first heard of Tom Holland when he was gorging himself on wine and glazed fruits, laughing with his colleagues and friends about some reminisced story of humour. Their table was one of high honour, central to the floor and surrounded by others of similar status, and the words reached his ears from a table of prima ballerina’s to their left, voices flush with wine and loud to his senses.

“Did you see the boy, Aly? So cute! He is so small, but he moves like the water already. I am glad for my age and to be female; he will be stealing the stage soon enough”.

“You’re just soft, Lola. He’s ten; we will be old and reduced to back-dancers and teachers by the time anything comes of him. If anything comes of him. Our world is more cut-throat than even a butcher house”.

It intrigued him, but only in the general way that life and its instances did. Talk of young dancers was aplenty and everyone believed their little cousin or their younger sibling had the promise of a premier ballerino. By the time he donned his coat and staggered for his awaiting car, still flushed with laughter and clinging to Chris, the name was forgotten.

But it had risen like a ghost several times after, in the coming years. Like Robert himself the boy was a prodigy, talented and charismatic in a way that set him apart in a world so full of prospects. Your dancing meant nothing if you did it with the blank face of a corpse.

Robert had never seen the boy dance personally, but somewhere after his twenty-fifth birthday, when the boy was fifteen and blooming into a reputation, Chris shoved a phone under his nose and demanded he watched the footage.It was crisp, taken on a professional camera and was of a brightly lit studio, the reflection of the tripod and its monitoring figure noticeable in the mirrored walls.

Tom Holland danced in a way not unlike what people described of Robert. Fluid, passionate, emotive, perfect. It was enough to make Robert focus, to watch the elegant way the boy moved from wall to wall, feeling as well as hearing the music. And then it ended, and Robert’s life continued with nothing more than a modicum of respect for the boy chiselled into place.

Until now.

Robert had worked every day since the age of two to carve this place for himself in his chosen world. He had given broken bones, sleepless nights and every shred of his dedication to this career. It had rewarded him in kind; premier ballerino roles in every offer since the age of twenty and even a teaching role at the American School of Ballet; a prestigious and reputable educational dance facility where none other than his own friend now sat on the Board.

It was how the situation - and Tom’s name - had arisen. Robert could deny Chris nothing and only arched a brow when he heard about Chris’ plans for his latest performance. Robert was fresh back from Rome and a week-long performance of The Snow Prince and despite the desperate call for rest, was eager to learn of his next routine.

“The Love Born of Summer? You soppy fuck” Robert remarked, scanning the title of the file that Chris slid across the table to him. He sat back, arching a brow at his friend, who looked abashed. Good. Chris was a terrible romantic, for all his crappy history with lovers. Performances like Giselle and the god-awful Nutcracker were Chris’ favourites.

Robert did quite fine with romantic performances. Ballet was not an individual art, and the close proximity and the intimacy that came with dancing was easy to Robert. It was part of why he was so good at what he did. The fact that most of Chris’ troupe were attractive was simply an easy bonus.

Robert considered it as he stroked at the trimmed lines of his stubble, gaze sliding from Chris to the many art pieces that lined the walls of the office space. The Love Born of Summer was a largely romantic piece; based loosely on several other classics. As per standard, two star-crossed lovers endure a perilous and heartfelt journey into a romantic end.

“The routine isn’t all that different to the first time you performed it. I’ve worked out a few hitches here and there, and I’ve made it more…Dramatic. Intimate. Y’know, since you’re so fond of dancing like you’re fucking” Chris sighed, as though the words pained him despite their amused lilt. Robert could not argue his own statement. After all, what was ballet if not a sensual thing?

And what was romance, if not a sexual thing? At least for him.

“And pray tell, darling. Who am I dance-fucking this time, hm? Is it you and your biceps? I have so missed them around my thighs” Robert purred, eliciting a delightful blush that started at Chris’ ears and dipped all the way beneath the alarmingly low V of his shirt. Chris and Robert didn’t dance together half as often as they used to, with their new responsibilities, but Chris was undoubtedly one of Robert’s favourite dance partners.

Robert oft missed their time together, and here and there a brief touch of longing for their previous intimacy would linger. But Chris’ husband Sebastian was downright delightful and whilst they had their chemistry together, Robert knew that himself and Chris were better suited to a platonic love, couple-y though they might act.

Robert was a lavish lover and he ate life like a sweet dessert, forever roaming in search of new tastes and new experiences. Insatiable, no matter how ‘full’ he felt of his memories. ‘You live life like a dying man’ Chris had once told him, laying naked together in bed in Paris, the rush of their evening performance now a low ember in their veins.

“Actually…And this is the part I expected the real argument to happen…I’m bringing in someone new” Chris breathed out, tentative and braced. Robert’s brow hitched higher in alarm. Chris was a creature of comfort and familiarity. New was not something he delighted in. It was part of why they worked better as friends.

“Pending, of course, your approval. He is my primary choice, but I do have a second prospect. My first pick, however…He’s good. Good enough that he just got accepted as a full time student here. He comes with recommendations from Paris and Greece. Young, but…He reminds me of you”. The last part was said almost wistfully, and Robert was overcome with the urge to flick him between the eyes and say I’m not dead yet, you moron.

“My. Your face is shoved so far into this new one’s ass I almost forgot you prefer to bottom” Robert sighed, rising gracefully to his feet and aiming for the coffee maker. He could feel the heat of Chris’ blush from across the room. During their time together they had shared the positions, neither too strict on preference. With Sebastian, however, Chris was exclusively the bottom. Robert had asked about it once, seated on their couch with Jeremy snug between his thighs and half-snoring, the group drunk on dark red and bourbon.

Sebastian had simply smiled slyly and lounged back, thighs falling apart to reveal the sizeable bulge at his pelvis. Robert had mocked and coaxed and eventually Sebastian had stood, striding over and unbuckling his belt to push Robert’s cheek to the firm flesh there, howling with laughter at his sputtering. Chris had been the same colour as the wine by the time his boyfriend had returned to his seat, and Sebastian had forever been nicknamed Pony in honour of the beast between his legs.

“Spit out the name, then” Robert coaxed, before Chris could lecture him on biding his tongue. It was wasted breath anyway; Robert’s silver tongue and sense of humour was practically the baseline of his entire personality.

“Tom Holland” Chris replied, voice distant as he opened the file and begun to pour over it, already back to business. It was why Chris was on the Board and Robert was merely an honorary teacher. Robert nearly poured the coffee over his hand and not into his cup at the name, frowning as he turned.

“Isn’t he like…Fifteen?” He questioned, head tilting as he lifted the hot liquid to his lips with a soft sound of approval. He liked his coffee as black as his sins, with just enough sugar to chase away the bitter taste. Chris looked up, appearing perplexed.

“He’s eighteen. He’s ten years your minor” Chris pointed out, and Robert wrinkled his nose. He was no stranger to working with children; some as young as aged six. But such a young partner for a romantic piece? It settled oddly on his bones and he cocked his head further. His youngest partner for a romantic piece had been twenty-three, a snarky Russian girl who danced like it was a fight to the death.

“He’s young” Chris agreed, leaning back and crossing his arms thoughtfully. “But hes good, Tony. When I said he reminds me of you…This boy went to Greece at fourteen with the Troupe de Ballet. He’s toured America at sixteen. I’ve seen him dance in person. It’s…An art. Truly. I know he’s young, but his style…He’s made for it. And you two? Together? It would be iconic. An undeniably beautiful act”.

Chris had that look in his eye, as though he were seeing the answer to life. It quelled any argument that Robert might have had, little though it was. Chris was so passionate about his work, about ballet. And when he set his respects to a certain person; Robert was all but helpless to agree. And so he did, sipping his coffee and looking thoughtful for a moment.

“I will watch him dance. If I feel like we will work…We will work” he agreed, lifting his coffee up and to safety when Chris rushed him for a hug, tight and loving. The force of it lifted Robert to his toes and he wrapped an arm low at Chris’ waist for balance, thumb stroking the corded muscle that lay over his hip.

“The things I do for you” he sighed, as though put upon, but his smile was too broad too be contained.

Tom Holland arrived the following Monday, the hallways of the school alive with vibrant speculation and chatter about the new-comer. ‘He’s prettier than any girl’ he heard one boy say, striding down the hallway with a friend. ‘I’ve heard that he’s going to be world-famous soon, and that he’s almost as good as Sir Robert’ squealed a girl, lacing her pumps so tight that his own ankle twinged in sympathy.

Robert had elected not to research the boy, in order to have a fresh opinion. He vaguely recalled the odd snippets he had seen. From what he remembered the boy was rather small, but lithe. Dark hair. Brown, perhaps. Or a dirty blonde? He remembered elegance and passion in his movements, but no specific details.

He had commanded that the boy perform in room A:13, a very specific location, for it was conjoined to a secret viewing room. Robert had converted it himself, utilising an old storeroom and its neighbouring closet to create a double-mirrored set up that allowed for secret observation. Robert liked to watch how people moved when they were unaware they were being watched.

Chris had admitted the boy had no idea that he was doing a performance yet, or that he was working with Robert. Potentially, Robert had reminded him. He had slipped inside the hidden room whilst Chris had gone to fetch the kid, and was scrolling mindlessly through his phone when he heard the door snick open, the echoing footfalls in the studio.

He looked up.

The boy was slender, somewhere between tall and short. It was hard to tell, really, when his only comparison was how he looked besides Chris, who towered above almost every man. Lithe and with a practised grace. He stepped lightly, twirling this way and that as he looked around the room. Robert tried not to look, really, but it was impossible to miss the slender calves, the supple thighs. The ass that curved out, lavish and thick, like a girls’.

And his face. Even from afar, Robert could see the beauty. The smooth cheeks and the browbone. The line of his jaw and the milkiness of his skin, all topped with a thick, generous mop of neatly brushed curls. The boy was talking to Chris, too quiet to hear, but pleasant, by the look on Chris’ face. After a short conversation, Chris stepped away, back through the doors, and the boy was alone.

Chris entered besides Robert as the boy sunk to the floor, liquid in his fluidity. He begun to stretch his legs, and Robert was loathe to turn his gaze away. “I told him to practise alone, first. That I would come back for him in fifteen minutes”. Wise, Robert had to admit. Without prompting, many students left alone would merely pick a perch and play games on their phones. Tom, however….

Tom folded himself in a perfect half, cheek resting on the floor, toes in a pointe. He must’ve done some stretching beforehand, because the flexibility was flawless, easy. It was all Robert could do to turn back, to nod approvingly at Chris. “He seems dedicated” he remarked, leaning against the wall-hold as he watched.

“I’d dare say as much as you” Chris sent back, and Robert gave a wry smile. You got nowhere without dedication, in this profession. Nowhere without blood, sweat and tears. Robert himself had cracked bones and torn skin to show for his skill. He looked back to Tom, who was stood now, using a handrail to balance on one set of toes, the other leg stretched in a perfect vertical to his side. Robert almost lost his breath.

The boy stretched for ten of the fifteen minutes, moving around the studio as easy as breathing, as fluid as water. He was frighteningly flexible, and agile to boot. They watched in silence for the most part, bar the odd murmur of approval from Chris. And then the boy shifted, shedding the tiny, zip-up hoodie that he’d been wearing. It revealed a pale, pink bodysuit, the light grey, tiny shorts that stretched for dear life over..

Robert cleared his throat, and watched as the boy pulled a phone from the hoodie, scrolling quickly. It turned out not be a break, however, but a search for music. The piece was some classical rendition of a pop song, though Robert couldn’t place it. The boy re-set it, and the music paused for a time, long enough for Tom to take position in the middle of the room.

Bowed, of sorts. One leg stretched out behind, arms extended to the side, body arched elegantly, head ducked. He paused there, breathing, taut. And then the music begun and Tom let himself unfold like a spring flower. It amazed Robert, how easily the boy captured attention and compliment. The world was stuffed full of dancers. The list of ballet names endless and overflowing. To stand out was near impossible. These days it relied on where you performed and whom you knew. What strings you could pull.

And yet.

Tom moved as they his body belonged to the music, floating through the room like sound. Robert found himself enthralled, lost as Tom danced. Closer, in snaking patterns. The closer he got, the prettier he became, Robert realised with a sinking lament. Far away beauty became undeniable, clearer. Wide eyes and thick lashes that framed them like kohl. A slender body, lithe with sleek muscle.

Closer, he danced. Spinning in pirouettes and transitioning to graceful tour en l'airs, spine straight and landing with impeccable balance. The boy’s slow, seductive extension into an arabesque left Robert gripping for purchase, hand closing around a riding crop nearby. They were common use in ballet, like spirit meters to a builder.

Chris cast him a sidelong glance, but remained silent.

Closer, closer. The boy sped up as he danced, in time to the crescendo of the music, whipping from position to position, movement to movement. Robert realised belatedly that the boy was heading straight for them, a series of spins and extensions bringing him to them.

The boy twisted gracefully, hitting the railing with perfectly timed momentum grasping the bar with both hands. It brought him face to face with the double sided mirror and the boy paused there, panting for breath with wide, curious eyes. As the boy heaved for air he slowly, slowly tipped his head, staring unknowingly into Robert’s eyes.

Then a trembling hand reached up, slow and cautious, fingertips dancing briefly against the glass, as though touching Robert’s face from the other side. And then he was gone, back to the middle of the room.

Robert tipped his head, watching the boy fall to rest, and thwacked the crop against his calf, nodding once. “I will take him” he announced, turning away from the mirrored wall. Chris hastened to slide past him, striding ahead of him through the corridor to the studio entrance, where he pushed through. The boy was standing, stretching out a leg slowly in a perfect, 180 penché.

“I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting, Tom. I just had to-” Chris’ voice was cut off by Tom’s startled gasp. Robert could see his eyes were brown, now. Light and like honey. He was devastatingly pretty up close and in person, eyes blown wide and his mouth open, dark pink lips in a pretty, perfect circle.

The boy pitched forwards, balance shot and arms flailing. Robert, already halfway through the door, beat Chris to lunging forwards. He fell to his knees, sliding across the polished floor and wrapping his arms around Tom’s torso as the boy came down. He was vaguely aware that this was some sort of Dirty Dancing shit, but arms closing around a slender, trim waist, he couldn’t care.

The boys palms hit the floor and he went lax in Robert’s grip, head tipping back to look up at him in astonishment. ‘Pretty’ Robert could only think, gazing back at him. He let the boy go slowly, allowing him to slide off his thigh and onto the cool floor. Above them Chris stood gaping, clearly unsure of where to continue.

“You’re - Oh my god. Why are you - You’re Robert Downey Jr” the boy mewled, looking equally delighted and distressed. Robert arched a brow, slow and sarcastic as he shifted, elegantly switching his legs to the side. He became vaguely aware of Chris joining them in sitting on the floor, and spared a moment to be amused by the scenario.

“If we’re going to be working together, you should pay heed to your balance. I’m too old for dramatic Swayze style slides, these days” he quipped, and took pleasure in the way the boy fumbled again, seemingly at a loss for words. He was used to the odd starstruck fan, the whispers and the excitement of the younger dancers. The awe. But this? Losing in ability to simply move in his presence?

“Working…?” The boy wheezed, moving from hands and knees to sit cross-legged before him, fingers wringing nervously in his lap. It was then that Chris got his swing back, casting Robert an accusing glance, as though rendering the boy useless was his motive.

“I…May have no been entirely honest, when I invited you here” Chris admitted, and Robert delighted in a scandalised gasp, feigning horror. Tom gave a brilliant, dazzling grin, glancing at him in delight before looking back at Chris, curiously. “You are here to perform, I didn’t lie about that. But you will be performing a duet. With Robert”.

Tom looked like he might pass out.

“With…But he’s…And I’m just…”

“Extremely talented” Robert cut in, leaning back on his palms. “And I would be honoured to work alongside you”.

Tom’s breath hitched loudly, and for a brief moment Robert was concerned that he had actually swallowed his tongue. But then he wheezed out a breath and Robert relaxed a fraction, lifting a brow. He was used to the minor freak outs of his colleagues. The panic of working alongside an idol, but.

“Keep going, kiddo. You’re doing wonders for my ego” he purred, and watched how the milky, pale skin went a violent shade of pink. Frankly, the kid was a sin personified. Chris had to know this was a bad idea. Robert had no filter and no shame. He had to know this kid ticked all of his boxes.

Or…Perhaps he did, and this was some kind of cruel and unusual punishment for all the stress. Or perhaps this was the promised revenge for that time Robert was convinced that peppermint would make blowjobs more interesting.

“I don’t understand” the boy whispered after a moment, chewing at his lower lip as he looked between them. Robert wanted to draw him in, to smooth the furrow set between his brows. Chris merely offered one of those soft, open smiles.

“I’d like you and Robert to be the two premier ballerinos of my performance at The Royal House of Dance. If you accept, you will star alongside Robert in The Love Born of Summer. You as Peter and Robert as Tony” he explained softly. Tom blew out a deep exhale, eyes still wide. He looked at Robert for a long moment, gaze thoughtful.

“I…I mean, of course. Yes. I accept” the boy rushed out after a moment, leaning forwards in his excitement. Chris beamed, clapping his hands in delight and reaching out to slap Robert on the shoulder. He had his star duet. His beautiful act.

“Amazing! Right! Well, I have some paperwork that I need to sort out, and I need to confirm your names for the venue and the marketing department, so. I’ll let you two sit for a bit. Have a chat, ask questions, that sort of thing. I’d say we’ll be ready to begin practise say…Friday?” He asked, looking between them as he pushed himself to his feet. For all his height, he unfurled with the same poise as any other dancer.

It was Monday today, which gave them three days to settle. Three days for Tom to get antiquated with the school and with Robert. And for the vice versa, though Robert knew his night would likely be taken up with a generous helping of bourbon and his fist.

Tom bid the man a soft goodbye, still all shy smiles and scrunched up in delight. Robert wanted to squeeze him, but he settled for pushing to his feet, suggesting that they talk whilst they stretch out. He expected the boy to protest, to say he was already warned up. He didn’t.

“Yes, Mr. Downey” the boy murmured obligingly, and shifted to his feet, copying Robert in beginning with a simple set of leg extensions. Loathe as he was to admit it, the words sent a tingle down his spine, and he folded over slowly, touching his palms to the floor in the hopes of hiding his reaction.

“Why do you speak funny?” He asked after a moment, and he could see from the corner of his eye the way the boy startled, looking across at him owlishly.

“…Funny?” The boy repeated in confusion, folding over to match the pose.

“Yeah, like, this kind of funny” Robert replied, mimicking the lilt of his voice, the dip in pronunciation, his nose scrunching. Tom giggled across from him, cheeks blaring pink once more.

“That’s…My voice. I’m not American” Tom responded, his voice pitching into a perfect, northern accent, not unlike Robert’s. The older man snorted in amusement as he straightened, and begun to stretch his arms. He resolutely did not face Tom, but the mirror-lined walls made it hard not to see him at all.

“So you can speak a full sentence” he remarked, and delighted in the way the boy curled in on himself shyly, gaze dropping to the floor. God. Adorable.

They talked as they stretched, snippets of conversation and getting to know each other. Tom, as it turned out, was a huge fan of Robert, had been since he was a boy, and he even apologised when Robert quipped about feeling old. He was insufferably sweet.

Chris came back somewhere after an hour, clutching a thin stack of papers in one hand, and a tray of coffee in the other. There was the usual paperwork for now enrolments, and the usual for performances. Safety papers, payment agreements and the like. Robert signed them all with practised ease and an artful flick of his wrist.

Tom read over each sheet carefully, the tip of a tiny, pink tongue caught between his teeth. Chris patiently explained each one, and the process took another hour. By which time Robert was suitably dying of boredom, entertaining himself by prodding Chris now and then.

“Okay. I think I’ve fried your brain enough for today, Tom. You can go ahead and call it quits. I can get this paperwork filed tonight, and you can show up at any time over the next three days. Have a walk around, chat to people, that sort of thing. We’ll begin the real work on Friday, when I’ll introduce you to the performance and my ideas”.

Chris left them from there, parting ways with a firm handshake for Tom and a familiar, tight hug for Robert, leaving the two alone as Tom dipped to one knee, scooping up his hoodie and his phone. Robert lingered for a moment, shuffling where he stood. Tom looked surprised to see him, when he stood, shrugging carefully into his hoodie.

“I’ll be here tomorrow around noon, for practise. If you want a familiar face” Robert offered, extending his hand. Tom looked surprised once more, eyeing his hand carefully before reaching out. In contrast to his, Tom’s hand was tiny. Long, slender fingers, unmarred by callouses. Tom was rather petite in general, Robert noted. Erring more on just under ‘tall’. But he was no more fragile, muscles coiling under his smooth skin.

He had a firm grip, too, and he avoided Robert’s gaze as they shook hands. Robert found it rather endearing, and he left the boy there, spinning on his heel to march steadily out to the parking lot. He needed a drink. And some lube.

Tom found him on the Tuesday. Or rather, Tom did a neat face-plant into his chest, on the Tuesday. Robert had been striding the hallway, heading for his usual studio space when a barrage of red and blue had come from the corner. Robert ha just enough time to lift his phone out of the way, allowing his sternum to take the brunt.

“Oh my Go- Aw, no. Mr. Downey! I’m so sorry!”.

Ah.

“A curious method of greeting people. A British custom, is it?” Robert teased, tucking his phone away as Tom took a step backwards, rubbing at his jaw. The boy huffed a laugh, delicate and high, and Robert took a moment to observe him. He wore royal blue shorts, lined with a bright red. A matching, cropped gym shirt stretched over his chest, though no skin was bared, thanks to the high waist of the shorts.

Tom accompanied him to the studio, tucking up in a corner with his phone and observing as Robert begun to stretch. They talked idly, easily. Tom asked questions about Robert’s career and his ballet past, and in return answered whatever Robert could throw at him, from his preference in herbal teas to his favourite move.

Robert caught the boy staring several times, with a poorly concealed hunger. It was not the same feral expression of lust as most, but a quiet thing. Deep and glittering in those whiskey eyes. Robert was shameless to admit that he stretched for longer than he normally would, folding and bending in exaggerated ways. The boy tracked each movement. It was flattering. Exciting.

“And you’ve no qualms about a romantic performance with a man?” He asked as he dove forwards into a slow handstand. He went into a pointe position and bent one leg steeply, holding his weight. Tom was no less attractive from odd angles, he found.

“I…Should hope not? I mean, it would be rather hypocritical of me, as a gay man, to object to a homosexual romantic performance” Tom pointed out. It was only Robert’s elbows that saved his face from an unfortunate meeting with the floor, and it was his turn to eye the boy in astonishment.

“A valid point” he replied easily, and moved along to question the boy’s preference in music. He couldn’t deny the way his mind whispered, though. Dark and dirty things that he tried hard to ignore, putting extra effort into pushing his body. Contrary to the things his mind brought forwards, he was not a predator. Nor a creep. The boy being gay meant nothing.

Tease though he would, Robert was a man of respect and dignity. He stopped at any sign of discomfort, and his hands never strayed from safe bounds. Close friends excluded, of course. With those and their tolerance of his personality, drink nights oft suffered wandering hands and crude remarks. From all sides.

Tom didn’t ask if it bothered him. He had no need. Robert had been proudly out as a pansexual man since his early days of performing, and had never bothered to hide or diminish his sexuality. He had a preference for men, though his lavish appetite was not limited. He had several remarkable relationships with women in his past, and his love extended to all.

Tom wandered away before Robert begun to dance, reluctantly admitting that he ought to find Chris. He lingered in the doorway, though, half-twisted to watching longingly as Robert settled into his beginning position. Robert met his gaze in the mirror and winked wolfishly, his chuckles drowned by his music as Tom went a fierce shade of red and practically leapt from the room.

Sebastian came strolling in, some three hours later. He carried a takeout bag of food, and a large bottle of water. “There was an honest to God twink in Chris’ office” he announced as he entered, and Robert’s laughter made his landing wonky.

The bag contained a generous helping of beef salad, with a low-fat muffin as dessert, and Robert ate as he listened to Sebastian rave about the tiny, pretty little thing he’d found curled up in Steve’s office chair.

“No boy has any business being that adorable” Sebastian pointed out, and Robert agreed around a hearty mouthful of baked good. They lamented it at some length, comparing poetic on Tom’s eyes and voice and ass before Robert decided practise had been done enough today, and so had gossip.

“Can you even dance with a boner? Is that possible?” Sebastian asked loudly, as they headed for the door, swinging it open to reveal a rather embarrassed and stunned looking Tom on the other side, one hand extended for the door. Robert made no effort to hold back his howl of laughter as Sebastian’s shoulders slumped.

#Rom Howney #RH Ballet AU #Fan fic #Rom Howney Fic #Rom Howney AU #Rom Howney Fanfic #Starker #IronSpider #Robert Downey Jr/Tom Holland #Tom Holland/Robert Downey Jr #Tom Holland/RDJ #RDJ/Tom Holland #Rom Howney Ballet AU #Rom Howney Prompt

[blurglesmurfklaine]

The Chair

Prompt/Summary: “I walked into this restaurant and you thought i was your blind date and i just kind of went with it because i don’t want to eat alone”, as well as based off of George Strait’s “The Chair”

Klaine; AU Alternate Meeting; ~1800 words

A/N: This is like two weeks late bc in case y'all have forgotten I'm the slowest writer in the world lmaooooooo

I hope you don’t mind but I changed it up a little, and this is what happened!

Written for @somefeministtheatrepls ‘s birthday! She’s literally one of the best people I’ve ever met (or.. Not technically met but you get the gist) the best beta a girl could ever ask for and the memeiest meme queen you’ve ever met in your life! Thank you for literally making my day every time I open up my messages and for reminding me of the little things that make life worth living :)

I’m so lucky to have so many supportive and amazing friends in this fandom!

Enjoy!

Read on AO3

*

Three times.

That made three fucking times, including tonight, that Cooper cancelled on Blaine. All he wanted was a night out with Cooper to catch up, but instead he’s angrily huffing his way out of the restroom after yet another argument with his notoriously flaky older brother. 

But of course, of course, Cooper cancelled on him without giving any heads up first. And now Blaine had to go back to that bar and finish his drink (he paid eight dollars for it and he’ll be damned if he lets it go to waste) and look like that one pitiful person every bar has that drinks alone and—

His racing thoughts came to an abrupt halt as he was greeted with the sight of a pale man with perfectly sculpted hair, nodding and smiling politely at the bartender as she takes his order. 

The only thing he could think was How the hell am I going to get him to talk to me?

Before he knew what he was even doing, Blaine walked right up to the man and said, “Excuse me, I think you’ve got my chair.”

The stranger turned and looked at him with wide eyes, likely horrified at his apparent rudeness. “Oh-oh my god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t—“ he got up to leave but Blaine stopped him.

“No, no!” He exclaimed, gesturing to the empty seat next to him. “That one’s not taken, so I don’t mind if you sit here, really.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, concern lining his face. 

Blaine chuckled lightly. “Yes, I’m sure. It’s usually packed here on Friday nights, and I’d hate for you to have to stand all by your lonesome.”

“Thank you. I’d hate to wait for this blind date all alone.”

“Blind date?” Blaine asked, trying to hide the disappointment in his voice.

“Yeah, my roommate set me up with this guy she barely even knows from her Diction class. She said he’d be here, waiting at the end of the bar—” His eyes went suddenly wide, as if coming to a realization. He looked down at his chair, finally noting that he had the end seat, then looked back up at Blaine. “Oh, my God, I’m an idiot. You’re my blind date!”

Now, Blaine wasn’t particularly proud of what he did next, but he really just couldn’t help himself. The man sitting next to him may have just been a stranger, but he was the type of stranger that he could see himself having a life with. Right now he was just somebody, but Blaine felt that if he got to know the man better, he could be somebody to him. It sounded ridiculous, but Blaine felt a connection as soon as he saw him, and he wasn’t about to let this opportunity pass.

“Yup! That’s me. Can I drink you a buy?” Blaine fumbled clumsily over the words before wincing at them. Nice going. “Sorry,” He continued, rubbing the back of his neck. “What I mean is can I buy you a drink? Anything you please, really.”

“Anything I please?” He teased. “Such a gentleman. Thank you.”

Blaine chuckled sheepishly, deeply hoping that the man couldn’t see his heart beating through his chest. “You’re welcome… I uh, don’t think I caught your name.”

“Kurt,” he smiled. “Kurt Hummel. And it just occurred to me that you must be Aaron.”

Blaine froze for a moment before figuring out how to get himself out of the hole he dug himself into. “It’s uh, Blaine, actually. But it’s fine, I’ve been told my name is kind of out there.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “It is not okay, Rachel is just terrible with names. If you’re not a fan or a casting director, she’ll forget it as soon as you walk away.”

Well, that’s convenient. 

“She sounds lovely,” Blaine joked. “But I’d really love to hear more about you, Kurt. What do you do?”

“Well, right now I’m interning at Vogue.com headquarters with Isabelle Wright when I’m not at school. Over at NYU.”

“Wait a second, you go to NYU?” Blaine asked in astonishment. “Me too!”

“Really? What are you studying?”

“Music Education with a concentration in voice, minor in musical theatre performance.”

“Wow, that’s an impressive mouthful—and course load, I’m sure. I’m in fashion merchandising, but I was actually thinking of adding a Musical Theatre minor, too.” Kurt took a sip of his drink and smiled at him through the straw. “Any advice before I audition for the program?”

Blaine leaned in towards Kurt. “Well, Dr. Williams has terrible taste—and he’s sexist, but that’s besides the point right now—so try to avoid audition dates where he’s on your panel. You’ll get points for Sondheim just because of the difficulty level, so if you have anything of his in your back pocket, I’d go with that. Or, you know, one of those classical killing my baby Arias would probably work too.”

His heart fluttered when Kurt let out a snort, bringing a hand to cover his face. Whatever you’re doing, Blaine, keep it up. 

They talked for several more minutes, each glad to be finding out more and more about the other. As time ticked on, Blaine talked about every subject from his annoying older brother Cooper to his opinions on the lack of administrative support for performing arts. In turn, Kurt told Blaine about his family and how life changing his experience in vogue had been.

“Who’s playing tonight?” Kurt asked after the conversation came to a natural lull. 

“I don’t know, but they’re pretty good, aren’t they.” Blaine replied. He sat still for a moment, watching Kurt as he nodded his head along to the beat and mouthed the words. Blaine smiled and got up from his chair to extend a hand to Kurt. “Would you like to dance?”

Kurt smiled and nodded, making Blaine’s heart flutter. “I would love to.”

Kurt took Blaine’s hand and lead him to the dance floor where other couples were gently swaying along to the song played by the band.

You look so good in love You want him, it’s easy to see You look so good in love I wish you still wanted me

“You like this song?” He asked with a light giggle, acknowledging the fact that Kurt was lowly singing all the words against his ear.

Kurt chuckled. “I uh, yeah. My mom went through a pretty big George Strait phase before she passed and I used to listen to him when I missed her.”

Blaine furrowed his brows sympathetically. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks… there was this one song that I would listen to when I was really missing her, but I can’t remember the name.” He frowned and twisted his face in thought. “It’s something about West Virginia to Tennessee? And all I have is this beat up leather bag…”

Blaine’s eyes lit up in recognition. “I know that song!” He exclaimed. “We did a Pure Country themed party a few years ago for my best friend's birthday and that song was part of the soundtrack. I’ll be right back.”

Much to Kurt’s dismay, Blaine released him from his comforting grip and made his way through the sea of people towards the stage where the band was playing. He gently noted that his arms felt much too cold without the man he just met in them.

He was suddenly interrupted by a buzzing noise in his pocket.

New Message: From: Rachel ⭐️ Hey, Kurt, sorry this is such late notice I just got out of rehearsal for the spring show but Aaron (Adrian? God, I don’t remember his name) texted me like an hour ago that he wasn’t going to be able to make it tonight.

Kurt furrowed his eyebrows in mild confusion before typing out a response. 

New Message: To: Rachel ⭐️ His name is *Blaine* first of all

Secondly, what do you mean? He showed up before I even got here.

No? Send a pic, make sure we’re talking about the same Aaron/Adrien(?)

Kurt glanced warily around the bar, feeling a little weird about Rachel’s demand, but nonetheless quickly snapped a picture of the curly haired man and sent a picture her way. 

Cute, but not Anton (I think Anton IS the right name, though)

Wait, so this date I’ve had has been with a complete stranger?

Oooooh, mysterious!

RACHEL

Well… is he a total creep?

Kurt glances up back at Blaine, waiting patiently by the stage to request the song Kurt told him about, looking dreamy as ever with his seemingly permanent yet genuine smile and toned arms and olive skin and...

No…

He’s actually kind of perfect.

In that case, you’re welcome. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

Kurt was about to respond that the only he wanted to do with this gift horse was kiss him on the mouth before the lead singer of the band spoke up into the mic.

“This one goes out to Kurt Hummel.”

Blaine happily made his way back to the paler man, extending his hand out to him. “I believe this is your song, Mr. Hummel.”

Kurt slipped his phone back into his pocket before taking Blaine’s hand and heading back out onto the dance floor.

'Cause I'm carrying your love with me West Virginia down to Tennessee I'll be moving with the good Lord's speed Carrying your love with me It's my strength, for holding on Every minute that I have to be gone I'll have everything I'll ever need Carrying your love with me

Blaine felt Kurt wrap his arms around him a little tighter at the chorus. “Is everything alright?” He asked.

“Yeah,” Kurt nodded. “I just… that was really sweet of you to request this song for me.” He admitted, feeling oddly vulnerable about admitting such strong feelings for the stranger in front of him. “I know we just met but… I really like you, Blaine. More than I’ve liked anybody in a long time.”

“I really like you, too…” Blaine trailed off and gnawed on the inside of his lip nervously. “But to tell you the truth… that wasn’t my chair after all.”

Kurt narrowed his eyes playfully and let a smile break loose. “I know.”

Blaine drew his head back in confusion. “Y-you do?”

“Yeah,” Kurt ducked his head shyly and laughed. “Rachel, my roommate texted me about halfway through our date that my blind date wouldn’t be coming.”

“Oh…” Blaine felt color rise to his face. “Look, Kurt, if you want me to go,” he jabbed his thumb behind him. “I get it. I promise I’m not some random weirdo, but I totally get if it freaks you out.”

Kurt responded by pulling Blaine closer. “It doesn’t. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever been so grateful to have been stood up.”

Blaine let out a sigh of relief. “Me, too.” He further explained at Kurt’s confused expression. “My brother was supposed to meet me here to catch up, and this is like, the third time that he’s bailed on our plans.”

Kurt hummed in mock thoughtfulness. “I suppose that means you know better than anyone that the third time’s the charm.”

“I suppose I do,” is all Blaine said before finally leaning in and pressing their lips together.

#klaine #glee #wow look at me im writing! #somefeministtheatrepls #SORRY THIS IS SO LATE AND SO SHITTY #I PROMISE TO MAKE YOU A BETTER CHRISTMAS ONE

[faveficarchive]

At a Distance - Part 4

by Melissa Good

Pairing: Xena/Gabrielle

Rating: PG-13

Synopsis: This is a novel-length fic, and a classic in the community. Xena and Gabrielle start to explore the changes in their relationship, Gabrielle is recalled to the Amazons where she has to deal with a bit of treachery, and Xena is, as always, there to protect.

The Amazon village path...

Now the feeling was much stronger, Xena realized, as she was closer, and the danger greater... but the fact that she could still feel something gave her heart, and she ran, with long powerful strides down the long path, and over the ridge to the place where the two territories marched the same border. She passed slumped forms, of both centaurs and Amazons, and didn’t stop.

Once over the ridge, she could see down into the village, and what she saw almost stopped her heart. A tree. Centaur children, and two woman facing off with staves. One, she knew. And the knowing grabbed her chest like vise. The other, she realized had to be Arella.

Two days of traveling, mountains, knife wounds, all became irrelevant. What mattered now was speed. And she ran. Down the ridge, and across the open grasslands that separated the two villages. Feeling the breath come tight in her chest, and ignoring it. Keeping her strides long, and loose, and absorbing the ground irregularities like a bouncing ball.

Up the next ridge, and then she could see into the village again, and a surge of fear that was now her own exploded across her mind as she saw the woman. And the crossbow. And the target.

And then she was at the top of the ridge, and down the embankment, and coming in as fast as she could across the small hillock that blocked their sight of her approach.

Arella squeezed the trigger, and felt the weapon release. Goodbye, green eyes. She saluted the woman, who, after all this, decided to die bravely.

Xena saw the finger whiten on the trigger, and lost any sense of perspective she might have had. Three more long steps to the top of the hillock, then she was launching into mid air Hitting the ground with stunning force, and using the momentum to launch sideways, to get every bit of length out of her long body. To stretch out and will her hand to close around a crossbow quarrel that was traveling too fast for any human to possibly catch.

And felt her fingers close around wood and feathers. Bare inches before the throat of the kneeling Queen of the Amazons. Who gasped in recognition even through the driving rain, and the speed she was traveling.

Rolling to a stop, trying to bleed some momentum, then bounding back up to catch the second quarrel, and snap it in one hand. A bounce on the balls of her feet, and then she was moving foreword, towards Arella, who was grimly loading the crossbow again.

Three steps, and she was airborne, and one powerful kick took out the crossbow, the second took out Arella, crunching against her breastbone, and knocking her flat.

Arella hauled herself to her feet, and felt within for that battle fever. Found it, and with that energy, rushed the dark haired, blood covered warrior facing her. She pulled her knife, and slashed at Xena, only to have her arm caught, and held, and then wrenched backwards with a crunching sound that drove her to her knees in agony. The she was picked up by the neck, and a fist smashed against her jaw, with an explosion of searing pain.

Then she was lifted, and shoved against a tree. She opened her eyes, and looked into those chips of ice across from her.

Xena let her alone for a minute, allowing her to feel the pain. To sense the power it took to keep her pinned in place like this. To think about that. Then she ducked her head closer, and sent her voice to it’s lowest register.

"You’re very lucky" she said, staring into Arella’s eyes. "You’re lucky your little ambush didn’t hold me up. You’re lucky I stopped that arrow." She shoved her harder against the tree. "Because if I hadn’t, there would be pieces of you scattered all over this courtyard. " She grinned. "You believe me?"

Arella nodded.

"Good." Xena nodded back. "Because if you ever even think about hurting her again, they’ll have to mop up what’s left of you with a sea sponge." A pause. "Got it?"

Waited for the terror to show in her eyes. And it did. Arella nodded again. Xena picked her up in a double handed grasp, then looked around. She spotted a large mud hole nearby, and with negligent ease, tossed the woman into it. Then stood for a long moment, letting the rain wash off the blood, and the dirt, and the total exhaustion.

Gabrielle had watched that arrow as it left the crossbow, mentally saying a few last things. To herself. To Xena. When the arrow was snatched out of midair, she never considered any other possibility as to who it was. And it was a like standing under a warm waterfall, the relief was that great. Then Cait moaned, and she dropped down next to her, cradling her head and wincing over the red gash on the side of her pale head. Running steps came close, and Solari dropped to her knees in the mud, examining the girl. "She’ll be ok" the Amazon said, pulling a bit of cloth out of her gear, and pressing it to the wound. Looked up "Are you ok?"

Gabrielle’s face lit up with a quiet smile. "I am now."

They both heard footsteps approaching, and with a quick sideways glance, Solari captured Gabrielle’s hands. "I’ve got this." She said, giving her a big smile and motioning sideways with her head. The bard pressed her hands back. "Thanks." she whispered, then stood and faced Xena. And knew she had this really dumb grin on her face, but didn’t care, as she ran to her open arms, and just...

"Argh" Xena heard the breath come out of the bard as she wrapped her arms around her, and squeezed hard. And the sweetness of that moment was so profound, it hurt.

Gabrielle buried her face in the warrior’s chest, ignoring mud and everything else in her desperate need to make contact, feeling Xena’s arms tighten further, if that was even possible, and she squeezed and squeezed as though her life depended on it.

"Hey." Xena finally said, brushing her lips across the top of Gabrielle’s head. "Don’t I even get a hello?" A light touch of banter in her tone.

She felt the bard take several breaths to speak, but nothing came out. Then finally..."Yeah.." in a voice thick with a dozen emotions. "You get a ‘hello’. You get a ‘thank the gods you’re here’’. You get a ‘I have never been so glad to see anyone in my life’. " A pause. "You get an ‘I love you’." Another pause. "Did I leave anything out?"

A moment of silence from Xena. Then... "Well, that about covers everything I had to say." In a quiet voice. There, in the rain. With thunder crashing around them.

She felt Gabrielle’s hold finally loosen, as the bard slipped her arms from around her waist and slid them up around her neck, and tightened her grasp again, lifting her eyes and gazing up into Xena’s. They looked at each other for a very long moment. Xena could feel what was happening and she had just time to think, Thunder and lightning, raining like Hades, up to our knees in mud, in a Centaur village in the middle of a fight. Well, it’s going be memorable. before she was responding to that grasp, and ducking her head to capture the bard’s lips in a long and heartfelt kiss.

They finally had to take a break to breathe, and Gabrielle let her head drop onto Xena’s chest, with a soft laugh. "Gods, that felt good." she sighed, closing her eyes.

"We’d better get out of the rain." Xena replied, taking a deep breath.

"What rain?" Gabrielle responded.

Xena laughed. "Or at least get rid of our audience." Her eyes twinkled.

"What audience?" the bard mumbled, then blinked her eyes open.

Xena jerked her head toward the center of the village, and the bard looked that way, then blushed a deep red, as she spotted all the grinning faces. "Gods" she said, hiding her face in Xena’s chest. Feeling the warrior laugh. Then deciding it was halfway funny herself, and turning her head to face them. Watching Ephiny stroll over to a scowling Eponin, and hold out an imperious hand. Watching Eponin glare, then wilt, and, reaching inside her bodice, remove a coin and slap it into Ephiny’s hand. Feeling Xena laugh harder. So she started laughing too, and then couldn’t stop. For a long time.

They walked back to the Amazon village slowly, in deference to Xena’s knife wound, which the bard discovered by the warm blood dripping down her back. "Ouch" she said, giving the warrior a stern look. "We need to take care of that."

Xena shrugged, wrapping an arm around Gabrielle’s shoulders. "I hardly feel it." She admitted. "Everything else hurts, so that’s just a minor annoyance."

"Minor annoyance. " Came the reply. "Uh... right." And she wrapped an arm around Xena, tugging her towards the path. "Come on." They walked on in silence for a bit.

"So, will this put a crimp in your treaty?" Xena asked, glancing around at the Amazons moving with them, some carrying fallen comrades.

"Well, no, not really. " Gabrielle answered slowly. "They’ve been fighting each other for such a long time, they’re almost friendly about it."

Xena looked at her. "They?" A slight grin tugged at her lips.

"They." The bard replied, snuggling closer. "And, by the way.."

"Yeah?"

"Don’t get me wrong, I couldn’t be happier. But... what are you doing here?" The bard’s voice was curious. "Was this just one of those mysterious Warrior Princess things or something?"

Xena remained silent, considering her answer. "I just had a feeling I needed to be here." She finally drawled. "Just one of those things, I guess."

Gabrielle’s brow creased. "It wasn’t that bad three days ago... I’m not sure…"

"No." Xena interrupted. "Night before last." She studied the ground in front of them, not meeting the bard’s curious gaze.

"Wait." Gabrielle stopped walking, and turned to face her, putting both hands flat on the warrior’s chest. "Night before last? Gods…you heard me." She grinned happily. "Wow."

"Gabrielle, what are you talking about?" Xena asked, putting her hands on the bard’s shoulders.

"That was the night Ephiny got back." The bard smiled. "And…" she stopped, and shook her head a little, dropping her gaze. "I really.." she stopped again. The hands on her shoulders flexed and tightened, and pulled her into a hug. She stood silent for a bit, just savoring the feeling. "I needed this." She said softly, "I needed you really bad. So.. I just.. kind of talked to you…even though I thought you couldn’t hear me." She lifted her gaze again. "But you did, didn’t you."

"Mmmm.. not so much in words, no." Xena answered, resuming their walk forward. "More in here." She reached across and patted the bard’s belly. "Just a feeling there was something wrong."

Gabrielle considered this thoughtfully. "That makes me feel really good." She said, with an impish grin. "Because I get in a lot of trouble."

Xena laughed. "Well, that’s true." She relaxed. Maybe this isn’t so bad after all. She mused, glancing down at the fair head tucked against her shoulder. Felt a warm glow that eased out the exhaustion, and made the wind and weather fade out to nothing.

"Wait a minute." Gabrielle lifted her head and stared. "Night before last? How did you get…"

"Found a shortcut." Xena cut her off.

The bard’s eyebrows rose. "Shortcut? Xena, I know these parts. There isn’t any shortcut between here and Amphipolis. You go up the road, then you have to take the long route around the mountain because of that sheer cliff that cuts the mountain down below." She paused and thought. "You didn’t…"

"Yeah, I did." The warrior confessed, flexing her free arm. "And am I ever going to pay for it."

"Oh." Gabrielle muttered softly. "That was…dangerous." She looked up and searched Xena’s face.

"Nah." The taller woman shrugged. "Piece of cake. Speaking of which, did you like the ones mother sent?"

"You’re changing the subject." The bard accused, but smiled. "But, yeah.. I really did. Can we go visit?" She let a mischievous grin appear. "I want to see this puppy I’ve heard about."

"You do, huh?" Xena asked, amused. "Well, it just so happens I promised mother I’d bring you back, so I guess we can."

Gabrielle considered this. "You did?" She grinned. "Great. If those cakes are any indication, I think I’m going to like that a lot."

Xena laughed, then winced. "Ouch. Don’t make me laugh so much. That hurts." Oops.. wrong thing to say, Xena...

The bard gave her a concerned look. "If you’re admitting that, we need to get you inside." She motioned ahead to her quarters, and steered the warrior that way. They moved inside the door, glad to get out of the insistent rain, and Gabrielle grabbed two large pieces of cloth, and tossed one to Xena. "Here... dry off." she said, going for a small medical kit, but forestalled by Xena’s wave, as she pulled her own out of the pack she was still carrying. "Oh good.. you always have better stuff in yours." the bard commented, walking over and picking it up.

"It’s really not that bad." Xena commented, unclipping the armor on that side, and pulling if off. "Stings a lot, though."

Gabrielle walked around to get a better view, and sucked in her breath with a whistle. "Wow. That’s going to take some stitching." She laid out what she needed on the desk, and motioned Xena to sit down in the chair, which she did, unbuckling the leather strap on that side.

"Well, you’ve done it before." the warrior commented, leaning forward as Gabrielle moved closer, and started to clean the long wicked slice. Xena closed her eyes, and waited patiently while the smaller woman took small precise stitches and closed the wound, lathering it liberally with herbal salve, and putting a piece of clean linen over it. At last, she sensed that Gabrielle was done, and leaned back, catching the serious look on her face.

"Hey.." she said, reaching out an arm and circling her waist. "I’ve had worse."

"I know." Gabrielle replied, softly, lifting a hand and touching Xena’s cheek. "But this was in my behalf." Her eyes were troubled. "Arella arranged that ambush because she was afraid to challenge me. Because of you."

Xena smiled wearily, reaching up and covering the bard’s hand with her own. "Sometimes the reputation’s a double edged sword, Gabrielle."

The bard smiled, and closed her eyes. "I love that"

"What?" Xena asked, puzzled.

"When you say my name." Came the unexpected answer. "Come on. I think I have a shirt that will probably fit you. " A droll grin. "Considering it’s yours." She moved across the room, pulling out the shirt and tossing it over. "I.."

Xena caught the garment one handed, and gave her an amused look. "I know. It’s ok. I realized it was missing, and figured..." she shrugged. "Well, anyway. Thanks. " She shrugged out of her soaked leathers, and into the shirt with a sense of relief. "Much better." She grinned at her, and then ducked into the adjoining hallway to set the sodden garments to dry, joined moments later by the bard’s.

"Have you even eaten, or anything? " Gabrielle queried, tugging her over and pushing her down on the edge of the bed. "Gods, Xena...I still can’t believe you climbed that cliff. " she laughed a little. "I can’t even believe you’re here."

"Believe it." the warrior sighed, leaning back against the headboard, and wrapping her arms around her upraised knee. "And, yeah, mother packed me a lunch." She gave the bard a droll grin. "I’m fine, Gabrielle. Stop worrying."

The bard was about to speak when Xena interrupted her. "There is one thing I’d like."

"Hmm?" Gabrielle answered, leaning against the side of the bed, and raising an inquiring eyebrow.

Xena raised a hand, gently caught her jaw, and turned her face to the dim light coming in through the window. Seeing the dark shadows under her mist green eyes, and the strain on her face. "I want you to come lay down here before you fall down." She gave the bard a look. "Has it been that rough? Gabrielle, you should have.."

The bard put up a hand, softly touching Xena’s lips, then did as asked and fit herself into the warrior’s welcoming arms. "I know." she sighed. "I wanted to do this by myself." She glanced up. "Dumb, huh?" She snuggled into a warmth that threatened to absorb her completely.

"No." Xena answered, smoothing the damp hair off her forehead. "You did a great job."

"Oh yeah." the bard snorted. "Except that last bit, what with Arella attacking the centaurs and ambushing you."

"It’s not your fault." Came Xena’s reassuring voice. "You did everything you could to secure peace for them. The treaty will survive this.. especially since the Amazon Queen came down in person and defended centaur children." She grinned at Gabrielle, who gave her a glance and smothered a sheepish grin. "That was a very brave thing you did."

"Speaks the woman who climbed a cliff and fought off 20 Amazons, and dove in front of a pair of crossbow quarrels and beat the stuffing out of my chief nemesis. Before lunch." Gabrielle responded, giving her a sideways look. "Uh huh."

Xena touched the tip of the bard’s nose. "You’re worth it." She said, cherishing the sudden widening of the green eyes now locked with hers.

"I am?" Gabrielle breathed, looking up at her with an emotion in her eyes that rang a gentle sweet bell in Xena’s memory. And allowed her spirit to return the look in kind.

"You are." A pause. "Besides, If I can’t do impossible things for you, who can I do them for?" Xena grinned.

Gabrielle grinned back, and snuggled closer, wrapping an arm firmly around the warrior and squeezing hard, then settling back with a contented sigh. They listened in silence for a while to the steady rainfall outside, punctuated by irregular rolling thunder, and brief lightning flashes. "I didn’t really mind having to do the treaties and stuff." Gabrielle finally said, thoughtfully.

"Hmm." Xena replied. "What did you mind, then?" She grinned slyly. "Don’t tell me it was the food."

The bard giggled. "Well, yeah, actually." Then she sobered. "No. Arella really bugged me." She shifted so she could look up and see Xena’s face. "She got me so mad, most of the time. And then.." she shrugged uncomfortably. "she was always…well, Xena, you know I don’t have a problem with people touching me, right?" She grinned in reflex to Xena’s glance encompassing them both and her amused twinkle. "Right. Exactly. But she made me feel…" her face scrunched. "Ugh." She paused. "It was really uncomfortable, and I didn’t like it. And now I’m wondering if it was her, or just something weird with me."

"Something with you?" Xena asked, raising an eyebrow at her. Oh I think I see her problem. Well.. she mentally chuckled. One way to find out, I guess.

"Yeah." The bard dropped her gaze, and sighed.

"Uh huh." Xena shifted slightly, and as the bard glanced up, the warrior lazily lifted one hand, and ran her fingers across the side of Gabrielle’s face, then gently traced the line of her jaw, dropping down the side of her neck, and brushing her collarbone, coming to rest just above her heart. Feeling the pulse point jump under her touch. Seeing the bard’s throat move in a convulsive swallow, and her breathing go irregular. "Nah. I think you’re fine." Xena said lightly. Guess that answers that question. "But I’d better make sure." And leaned over and kissed her, then relaxed back against the headboard with a grin.

"Uh." Gabrielle blurted, then dropped her eyes, and buried her face into Xena’s shirt with a small giggle. Wow. She could still feel little tingles running up and down her spine, and briefly considered giving in to her instincts. But despite the warrior’s casual reassurances, she could see the pain and exhaustion lurking in the back of those eyes, and she knew there would be time to continue that experiment later. "I think you’re right." She finally answered, after a deep breath, and looked back up with a grin. "Thanks."

"Anytime." Xena answered, feeling her eyes start to close, as two days of effort caught up with her. She settled her arm more firmly around the bard and let the steady sound of the rain and the warm security of Gabrielle’s presence take her off to sleep.

***

Ephiny rolled one eye open, and studied her surroundings. Her quarters. This was a good thing. She cocked her ears. Silence outside. Another good thing. She peered at the window. Sun. Yet another good thing. The day was looking up so far, especially after yesterday. Yawning, she got up, and splashed her face with water, grimacing at the large bruise on her jaw. "I’ll get you for that, Erika." She muttered, then sighed, and got dressed, and poked her head outside.

Just dawn, and very quiet. The only sounds she heard were the quiet snaps of the scouts campfire, the intermittent splatters of leaf bound water dropping, and the faint sounds of movement from the dining hall. Her eyes rested briefly on the door to the queen’s quarters, and she felt a grin tugging her mouth. Nice to have that old question answered once and for all, she thought, amused. But that was too damn close. Her mind sobered. She walked to the dining hall, and waved hello to the two cooks as she crossed the woven threshold.

"Ephiny." Esta grunted, waving back. "Tell me this whole stupid affair is over and done with, will you?"

The blond Amazon shrugged. "You know how we are, Esta. But I think it’s over for now. Arella’s going to be out of commission for a very long time, and maybe she learned something from it." Besides don’t piss off the Queen’s champion, that is. "Got something hot on? It’s chilly this morning. " She accepted the bowl of warm cereal, and sat down with it, warming her hands on it’s sides, and breathing in the steam. She looked up as Menelda, their chief healer slid onto the bench next t her. "Morning" Ephiny mumbled, stifling another yawn.

"Morning" Menelda answered, getting herself a cup of hot tea from a handy pitcher. "Status report." She said, taking a sip. "We lost 6 people in the ‘hunting’ party yesterday."

Ephiny’s eyebrows rose. Then she shook her head.

"Three more are in the hospice, and will be for quite a while. They look like they fell off a cliff." Menelda spoke in her typical blunt style. She wasn’t known for her bedside manner. "The girl, Cait, is going to be fine. She had a gash on her head, but it was mostly surface, and she’s up and around already, and wants out." She allowed a small smile to cross her face. Then it disappeared. "Arella, we have a big problem with."

Ephiny let out a groan, around a mouthful of cereal. She gave Menelda a look.

"Oh, she’ll live." Menelda reassured her. "She has a broken jaw, so we won’t have to hear her for a while, and about a half a dozen broken ribs. Looks like she was back kicked by a warhorse. "

"She was." Ephiny muttered, continuing to chew. Menelda darted her a look, then snorted.

"She also has a completely dislocated shoulder. Problem is, she’s pretty muscular, and we can’t get the arm reset. We’ve tried, all night, until she passed out from the pain of it. " The healer grimaced. "Even with two of us trying, we just can’t get the leverage for it."

"Huh." Ephiny replied, considering. "Well, I may have an idea for that." She stood up and ran her fingers through her hair. "I’ll just get the person who put it out of joint to put it back in." And left the room, leaving Menelda to collect her jaw and follow, spluttering.

***

Xena had woken in the pre dawn stillness, momentarily disoriented until her eyes focused, and she realized where she was. Gabrielle was still very soundly asleep curled up snugly against her, her breathing slow and steady.

Gingerly, she tested her sorely abused body, and was cautiously pleased with the response, more so than she had reasonably expected to be. I guess that’s what a good night’s sleep gets you. She mused, glancing down at the sleeping bard. She still looks tired out. And she’s lost weight. They must have been pretty tough on her. Damn.. but she stood up to them, didn’t she?

With the stillness, she realized the weather had cleared outside, but it had turned colder, and she could feel the draft coming in from the window, which made her decide to stay right where she was and pull the covers up over the both of them. She let herself drift off again, until a noise outside snapped her eyes open, and sent her hand drifting towards her sword, sheathed next to the bed. The sun had recently risen, and she could see a shadow moving outside the door.

A curly head poked in cautiously. Xena shook her head in amusement, but waved Ephiny in, making shushing motion with one hand. The Amazon stepped in quietly, and walked over to the bed, with a grin twitching across her face. "How’s the back?" she said, very softly.

"Not bad." Xena answered. "Couple of stitches, nothing serious."

Ephiny nodded, then glanced down at Gabrielle. "I can see she’s all right." With an impish smile at the warrior. Then her expression went serious. "Actually, I have a rather.. awkward request to make of you."

Xena’s eyebrows raised. "Awkward?" she asked.

"Well, yeah." Ephiny sighed. "Our healers have been trying to reset Arella’s shoulder since yesterday, without success. They can’t get enough leverage to pop it back into place." She looked at Xena.

"So you want me to try." The warrior hazarded, with a snort. "You’re right. That’s awkward."

Gabrielle opened her eyes, blinking sleepily. "What is?" she mumbled, glancing up at Xena, then over at Ephiny, and when she met Ephiny’s eyes, she grinned. ‘Good morning."

Ephiny grinned back, and gave her a little shake of the head. "Good morning to you, too."

Xena repeated the request. "I guess I’ll try, but you’d better knock her out first so she doesn’t know about it." She shook her head in annoyance. "This’ll be a first."

"OK." Ephiny nodded. "I’ll go tell Menelda." She stifled a yawn. "Sorry. I know it’s still early." She gave them both a wicked glance. "So, I’ll get on out of your way, here." She waggled her eyebrows at them, and vanished.

They watched Ephiny leave, then looked at each other. And burst out laughing.

"Gods." Gabrielle sighed, still chuckling. She hitched herself up on an elbow, and tugged at Xena’s shoulder. "Let me see your back." Waiting for the warrior to lean forward, which she did, and pulling the shirt down and removing the bandage she’d put there last night. She was silent a moment, then let out a surprised chuckle. "You heal fast." She commented, putting the bandage back on.

Xena tugged the shirt into place and leaned back, shrugging. "Yeah. Comes in handy." She stretched. "See? No harm done." A grin for the bard, who gave a grudging smile in return. "So. I guess I’d better go see about your little friend, there, huh?"

Gabrielle’s expression was less than queenly. "If I wasn’t the goodhearted bard type, I’d tell you to forget it." She rolled over on her side and propped her head on her hand. "You going to do the pressure point before you do it?"

"Yeah, probably. Why?" Xena asked, leaning on one elbow. "You don’t want me to?" Her eyebrows rose.

The bard sighed. "Yeah, I do.. it’ll be good for her hangers on to realize that you have skills other than the obvious ones." She poked the muscular shoulder next to her.

Xena snorted. "Uh huh. Sure."

Gabrielle regarded her, tilting her head and gazing with undisguised interest. "By the way, looks like going home was good for you. You look great." She grinned. "Not that you don’t usually."

A shrug. "Got a chance to heal up some nagging sore spots, at least. Do some stuff around the inn. A little hunting. " a pause. "A lot of sparring, which I needed to cope with the effects of a month of my mother’s cooking." She finished with a wry chuckle.

"Doesn’t seem to have done you any harm." Gabrielle responded, with a smile.

"Guess not." Xena paused. "Yeah, it was nice. Mother was.. great, and Toris was Toris." She exchanged knowing grins with the bard, then rolled over, and stood up, extending a hand back towards Gabrielle. "Come on. They’ll be in here in a minute looking for you."

"Yeah, yeah." Gabrielle grumbled, grabbing the proffered hand, and allowing herself to be hauled bodily out of bed. "Maybe I can banish them." A glance at Xena’s eyebrows. "Ok, maybe not."

They walked across the middle ground, and Xena nudged Gabrielle with an elbow as they came even with the dining hall. "Go get some breakfast. I’ll take care of this. You don’t need to watch."

The bard squared her shoulders. "I know. But I want to. I want to understand her." she considered. "Besides..." a grin "you know I love watching you work."

"OK" The warrior acknowledged. "Let’s go then." They walked together to the infirmary, and ducked inside the door.

The atmosphere became tense as the occupants recognized them, or to be honest, Gabrielle thought, recognized Xena, who stood for a moment, observing everything and doing her best ‘I’m a menacing warlord’ impression. Which was a darn good one, enhanced by her darkly glittering armor and conspicuous weaponry. Most of the invalids were Arella’s people, and they avoided meeting her eyes, keeping a wary eye on the warrior, or examining their own boots with interest.

Xena leveled her gaze around the room a few times, then strode towards where Arella was lying, foggy, but conscious, with one arm braced in an awkward splint. She watched Xena approach with an unfathomable expression. Erika, seated next to her, rose slowly to her feet, and backed away as the warrior moved closer.

"Relax." Xena finally said, when the tension had risen to where it was almost palpable. "I’m not going to kill anyone." She stood over Arella, and examined the splint with interest. Arella’s face was a study in apprehension, and a faint sheen of sweat broke out on her forehead. She flinched when the warrior crouched down, and laid a finger on the supports. Xena glanced at her. "I said, relax. If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it yesterday."

Making a decision, she rested her weight on one knee, and untied the splint gently. She turned her head and looked into Arella’s eyes. "Listen. I’m going to block your pain with a pressure point. Then I’m going to set your shoulder. Don’t fight me. That’ll just make it harder. OK?"

Arella nodded, some of the panic fading from her gray eyes. She blinked at Xena, as though just seeing her for the first time.

"All right." Xena muttered, then took two fingers and pressed a spot at the junction of Arella’s neck and shoulder. The Amazon’s eyes widened, and she jerked a little. "Now, just don’t struggle." the warrior reminded her. Then slid her left arm under Arella’s, and grasped the edge of the bunk, providing a pivot point, and with her right arm, she grabbed the Amazon’s’ elbow. "Ready?" She cautioned, glancing at the woman. A slight nod. "OK." And with a smoothly powerful motion, Xena levered the dislocated arm into it’s proper place. The joint snapped back into position with an audible pop, which caused everyone to jump a little, then Xena released her grip, and sat back. "Now." She said to Arella, whose eyes were fastened on her. "I’m going to release the pressure points, and you’ll feel this again. It won’t be as bad, now that the joints back in place. OK?" Another nod. "OK." And she pinched the spot again, and Arella flinched, but then relaxed a little, and gave Xena a wary little nod.

Xena stood, and dusted off her hands, then glanced around the room, which was not nearly so tense all of a sudden. Gabrielle came up beside her, and leaned against her shoulder, gazing down at Arella. "That looked easy enough." the bard commented, glancing up at Xena.

"I knew what angle it came out from." Xena answered, giving her a wry glance. "Makes it easier to guess how to lever it back in." A darkly amused grin.

"Ah." Gabrielle responded. "Yeah, that makes sense." She met Arella’s eyes, giving her a short nod, then pulled on Xena’s breastplate. "Come on. Let me introduce you to breakfast."

Xena allowed herself to be led out of the infirmary, fully aware of the eyes following them outside. They crossed the open space and headed towards the dining hall, along with several other Amazons, who glanced briefly at them, and smiled. Gabrielle smiled back, then realized why they were smiling, and blushed. Well, this is going to take some getting used to. She mused to herself. Aloud, she said "I hope you like porridge."

"You know I don’t. And you don’t either." Xena responded, raising an eyebrow at her. "Gabrielle, you’re the Queen. Why don’t you just ask for something else?" She watched her companion’s face go from irritated to perplexed to embarrassed. "You never did, did you." A quickly muffled chuckle. "Come on." And they entered the hall, spotting Granella sitting with Cait near the front of the large room. Xena steered the bard towards them, and gave her a gentle shove at the bench. "Sit down."

She herself continued on through the hall, ducking into the preparation area and startling the two cooks. "Relax." She drawled, scanning the shelves with a knowing eye, and selecting several items.

"Would the queen like her bowl of cereal?" the cook called Esta asked, warily.

"No." Xena answered, grabbing a plate and several more items. "She hates cereal."

Esta snorted. "She never said word one." Indignation colored her tone. "She never asked for anything, never said what she like... she’s been driving us crazy wondering..."

Xena stopped, and gave her a look. "I know. I should have sent an instruction scroll with her." And gave the cook a brief grin. "Sorry. She doesn’t like people to make a fuss." And disappeared, leaving the two cooks to glance at each other.

"Huh." Esta said. "She’s not so bad, that one." Her companion grunted noncommittally.

Gabrielle seated herself next to Cait, and smiled at her. Cait smiled back. "Hi." the bard said.

"Hi." Cait responded, blinking at her. "That was super of you yesterday. With the centaurs and all." She grinned enthusiastically. "I liked it when you dumped the big one with your staff."

Gabrielle snorted. "Well, thanks... but it didn’t really do much good." She gazed at the blond girl. "And thank you for getting in the way when she was about to spear me." Her brow creased. "Sorry you had to get hit for it."

Cait shrugged. "It’s ok. It really didn’t hurt much. You were really brave when she was going to shoot you, though. You didn’t even flinch." She stopped eating and put her spoon down. "You didn’t see her coming, did you?"

The bard looked puzzled, then realized who Cait was talking about. "No.. I couldn’t... did you?"

The girl nodded with cheerful enthusiasm. "Sure did. It was great. She came up over the embankment, hit the ground, then just went sideways." A glance up as the subject of the conversation appeared, and tossed plate down in front of the queen.

"Here." Xena said, ruffling Cait’s hair. "Hello, Cait." And sat down across from Gabrielle, snagging a piece of cheese and a slab of bread from the plate for herself.

"Cait was just telling us about your arrival in the Centaur Village. " Granella mentioned, watching the bard attack the plate’s contents. "Wow... don’t hurt yourself there."

Cait turned to Xena, and grinned. "Can you teach me to catch arrows?" She pleaded, "Please??"

The warrior raised an eyebrow at her. "We’ll see." she growled. "How’s your head?"

The girl raised one hand to her temple, then shrugged. "It’s OK." She went back to her bowl, scraping up the last of the cereal with dutiful vigor.

They all looked up as Ephiny strode into the hall, and walked over to them, placing both hands on the table and leaning forward. "Gabrielle, the Centaur leader want’s a parley. With you. This afternoon." She darted a glance towards Xena, who was thoughtfully chewing on her bread. "You too." she added, giving the warrior an apologetic little shrug.

Xena rolled her eyes. "Oh great." she sighed.

"OK." Gabrielle replied. "This afternoon. And, Ephiny.." The Amazon looked at her. "We need to wrap up any council business. I’d like to leave tomorrow morning."

Ephiny went very still, just looking at her. "All right." she finally answered, drawing out the words slowly. Damn. I should have seen this coming. But she’s done an impossible amount in the time she’s been here. "We can do that." She finished, quietly, and straightened.

Gabrielle stood, and took her arm, motioning her outside with a nod of her head. They walked outside, and a little away from the hall, then the bard stopped, and took a breath. "Listen.."

Ephiny held up a hand. "No... it’s all right. I understand."

"Ephiny, no you don’t. Let me talk for a minute." Gabrielle spoke quietly. "I’ve done what I can." She dropped her gaze to her hands, and then looked back up. "There is a part of the Amazons that I don’t understand.. that I don’t know how to understand. Until I do... Until I can see what people like Arella see, I can’t lead you."

Ephiny opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again. Opened it. Shut it. Opened it. Finally, she put a hand on the bard’s arm. "Look. I know you’ve had a rough time. Believe me, I do." she let out a held breath. "But I think you’re wrong. I think you do understand us. You just don’t see way of becoming us.. and Gabrielle, that’s a very good thing. That part of Arella that you can’t get a grasp of... that’s ugly, and violent, and needs blood to satisfy.. I wouldn’t want you to know." She gave her a small smile. "And anyway, you’re still the Queen. I can’t change that. I wouldn’t want to.. I’ll just keep holding your place until you’re ready."

Gabrielle nodded slowly. "All right." She smiled grimly. "I may never be ready. But when I am, you’ll be the first one I’ll tell."

"Second." Ephiny replied immediately, eyes twinkling.

The bard let out a short laugh. "Gods.. am I ever going to live that down?" She blushed. "I can’t believe we did that." She gave Ephiny a sly grin. "So.. just how much did you win?"

"Ahh.. that would be telling." The blond Amazon smiled. "For the record, you are the envy of the camp, by the way. " She grinned at the deeper blush. "So, where are you off to? Amphipolis?"

Gabrielle crossed her arms over her chest, and tried to ignore the heat of her face. "Yeah." she answered, finally meeting Ephiny’s eyes. "Among other things, I gotta see that puppy you mentioned. I’ll see if we can make it back for the festival, though."

Ephiny nodded. "That would be great. Listen.. you did an incredible amount for us in a month, you know that. Six new treaties, and personally, I think certain factions in the village are willing to take a second look at peace as an alternative." Though, I do think Xena has more to do with that, she mused wryly. She scared Arella’s crew into good sense. Maybe.

The bard nodded. "Thanks." She glanced around, back to the dining hall, where Xena was now leaning lazily, waiting for her in the doorway. She struggled to keep a grin off her face, and knew she partially failed when she saw Ephiny’s muffled chuckle. Sighing, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath before she looked up again. "Sorry. What were you saying?"

"We’ll have to go over the centaur charter." Ephiny responded, giving the bard a break. "Other than that, there’s just a few things to wrap up today." She put a hand on Gabrielle’s shoulder, and starting walking her back to the hall.

The council session that afternoon was interesting, Gabrielle thought. For once, no one questioned her. There was no Arella there, with her doubting words, and intimidating, sarcastic silences. She didn’t have to explain herself a half dozen times, nor did she have to justify her words, her thoughts, her actions... and there was a new sense of respect, even from those of Arella’s followers who did attend.

Maybe it was the fight yesterday, she mused. I did do pretty well, after all. Or maybe it was the knowledge that peace had prevailed after all. Maybe they’d learned something.

Nah. Her mind chuckled. It was the presence of her warrior partner, felt more than seen, since Xena was lounging behind all of them on a low bench looking for all the world like a panther stretched out, her blue eyes scanning the room at intervals but always returning to catch the bard’s own. Usually with the raising of an eyebrow at something someone said. Or an eye roll, when Gabrielle had to explain something twice. Or a twitching grin when she’d made a good point. And an out and out dazzling smile when one of the older Amazons that had been more or less in Arella’s camp stood up and complimented her, and said, well, maybe there was another way. Maybe I did make a difference. She finally mused, carefully examining that thought. Maybe. At the end of the council, she stood up, and as her last piece of business, turned the ruling of the Amazons back over to Ephiny, which the blond woman accepted casually as though they hadn’t rehearsed the whole thing beforehand. Which they had.

And she was pleasantly surprised by the number of Amazons who stopped her after the council broke up, and expressed their dismay at her leaving. Their appreciation for what she’d done. Even to the last of them, three of Arella’s cronies, who closed in on her when almost everyone else had left.

Causing her a faint prickle of concern, until her peripheral vision caught the smooth movement of dark leather, and she relaxed into a feeling of warm security. She looked at the three, tilting her head in question, letting them break the silence. Somehow keeping her eyes on them, and not letting them drift over their heads to meet the watchful gaze that had moved in behind them with utter silence.

"Um. Look." Erika broke the tense standoff. "I know we don’t see eye to eye."

"That’s a true statement." Gabrielle agreed, amiably.

"Yeah. Well, anyway. It’s just that.. " she sighed. "Gabrielle, just going along, day to day... there’s no challenge there. I think what we’re afraid of is losing.. well, part of what makes this life so appealing for us." She glanced at her two companions, who nodded, but let her keep being the spokesman. "That challenge is really important to us."

"Isn’t life itself a challenge?’ the bard countered. "Do you have to have conflict to make it harder?"

A low voice answered her, and startled the Amazons. "They have a point, Gabrielle." And Xena stepped forward, ignoring the nervous looks from the three, and concentrating her attention on the bard. "When you’re used to a certain amount of excitement in your life, taking that away can leave you.. " she pursed her lips and nodded a bit. "twitchy." She raised an eyebrow at the three, who looked at each other, then back at her. And gave little agreeing shrugs. "You tend to do things that create that feeling of excitement, because your body is used to it."

"Are you saying that people can be addicted to violence?" Gabrielle asked, incredulous.

"Uh huh." Xena replied, and, finally, got some faint beginnings of a smile from the three. "that’s hard to break. You have to find something that can take it’s place. But.." she shrugged. "Don’t discount that need. It’s real."

Now Erika was smiling openly, and gave Xena a little nod. "You do understand."

The warrior turned her gaze on Erika. "Oh, I do. But if you let that need control you, you lose." She gave Erika a look. "You have to find a way to channel that energy into something positive. You have to find a substitute for it."

Erika looked very thoughtful. "Like what?" she countered, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

Xena’s eyes took on a mischievous sparkle. She leaned forward, and cupping her hand around Erika’s ear, whispered something to her. The Amazon started back, then looked at her, darted a glance at Gabrielle, then chuckled. "Ah. I see." Her face took on a thoughtful look. "Well... I’ll see what I can do." She turned to Gabrielle. "Anyway, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry."

Gabrielle nodded slowly. "So am I, Erika. Six Amazons died yesterday that didn’t have to." Her face was very serious. "I’m leaving it up to Ephiny to decide what the penalties are going to be for that. But I’ve given her some suggestions. That was really stupid."

Erika sobered. "I know." She glanced up at Xena. "I knew better. I should have stopped it. But I didn’t, and now I have to live with that." She gave them both a brief nod, then turned and left, her companions following her in thoughtful silence.

Xena and Gabrielle watched them go, then looked at each other. Gabrielle sauntered over to her, and tugged on her breastplate. "What did you tell her?" she asked, curiously.

"Oh..it’s a warrior thing." Xena answered, with a smile. "Come on. The centaurs should be here any minute." She’s not going to let this one go. OK.. well, she looks cute when she blushes.

"A warrior thing." Gabrielle repeated. "Uh huh. Like what kind of warrior thing? " Not letting go of the armor plating. "I want to know what you suggested to her as a substitute for the excitement" she grimaced "of going to war."

"Falling in love." Xena drawled. With a twinkle.

The bard blushed to the roots of her hair. "Oh." she mumbled, then laughed.

"Now, better lose that blush before the centaurs come in." Xena teased, patting her lightly on the cheek. Then lifted her head, moments before they both heard Xena’s name being called. They walked to the door, and Xena ducked her head outside, and they saw an Amazon leading a familiar golden form with a makeshift halter.

"Argo!" The warrior breathed. "I should have know she’d follow me up here." She darted outside, and grinned as the mare nickered on seeing her.

Gabrielle watched her go, and stayed in the doorway, leaning on the post, and wrapping her arms around herself, on the warm feeling that was filling her like sunlight. Falling in love, she said. Her mind chortled happily. And if it took a month in Hades with the Amazons to get her to say that to me, then they can have a month of my time any moment they like. Arella was wrong, wrong, wrong...this is the most wonderful feeling in the world. I hope she finds that out some day. A remembered thought of Erika’s face. Maybe she just will.

She glanced across the grounds, at the movement of the Amazons, at the dimly seen approaching Centaurs. At Xena, and her snorting, restive mare. Gods, Gabrielle. It’s been a long, long road from Potedeia, hasn’t it?. Everything that’s happened. All the bad things, all the trouble, and fighting, and pain. And the good things, the victories, the people we’ve helped, and most of all, our friendship. I remember I asked her once if there was anything she’d change, after all that, and she said.. no. I only just this minute understood why. It all led to us coming to this place, at this time, and being who we are now. And if that’s so...I wouldn’t change a thing either.

"Gabrielle." Xena’s voice startled her out of her reverie. "Hey, you OK?" The warrior peered at her, concerned.

"Yeah, yeah. I’m fine." Gabrielle answered, smiling up at her. "Just thinking, that’s all." She glanced over at the path into the village. "Oh, here come the centaurs. Time for our meeting, right?" She ran her fingers through her bangs, and straightened her skirt. "Let’s go."

***

"That wasn’t as bad as I was expecting it to be." Ephiny yawned later, sprawled in the chair across from Gabrielle’s desk, a large cup of mulled wine in one fist. "Though I think they like you better than they do me." she blinked at the bard, who was packing things efficiently into a pair of large bags.

"Nah." Gabrielle replied, glancing up and smiling. "Your son’s a connection to them. They’ll be fine with you." She sighed. "Besides, I think I make them nervous. They kept swishing their tails."

A chuckle from the bench near the wall, where Xena was lounging, repairing a bit of armor lacing. "No, *I* make them nervous." A darkly humorous grin. "I make everybody nervous, it seems."

"Really?" Gabrielle asked, stopping what she was doing and looking over. "I never noticed that. Are you sure? I think you’re just imagining things again, Xena. I warned you about that."

Ephiny looked at her like she’d lost her mind, then glanced back at Xena. Who had balled up a wad of leather stitching and pelted it at the bard. And nailed her right in the chest.

"Ouch." Gabrielle yelped. "Hey..just asking..." And tossed the wad back, managing to aim well enough to cause the warrior to duck to avoid being hit in the head. "Hey, that was close!"

"Right. Not." Xena scoffed, going back to her mending. Pretending not to see Gabrielle grabbing a small pouch and pulling back her arm, slinging it forward with quite a bit of force. Dropping her armor bit at the very last possible second, and reaching up a hand, still not looking, and catching the pouch. "Gotta do better than that." she commented airily, tossing the item back with a flick of her wrist, but this time catching Ephiny on the back of the head with it.

"Hey!" Ephiny squeaked. "Don’t get me involved in this!" She stood up , still gripping her cup, and backed off, grinning.

"Chicken." Gabrielle scoffed, and dove for the pouch. She came up with it, and hurled it in Xena’s direction. But the warrior had dropped her mending and was now in a half crouch, fully interested in the game. She caught the pouch, and whipped it back, making Gabrielle dive for cover. "Whoa!"

They scrambled for the pouch, and Xena grabbed it, and pelted the bard in the stomach with it, then ducked as she threw back the original wad of lacing. Ephiny chose that moment to step backwards, to avoid being bowled over.

And caught her boot in a floorboard and lost her balance, waving her arms wildly to keep from falling. The cup of wine went flying right towards Xena, who paused, saw it coming, glanced behind her quickly, then sighed.

And closed her eyes. And let the full cup catch her in the chest and go all over her.

Everyone froze. The silence was deafening, until Xena broke it by chuckling wryly. "Nice vintage, Eph."

"You could have ducked." Ephiny protested, caught between laughter and apprehension. She could have, she wanted to, but she didn’t..I saw that moment of decision there.

"Oh no." Xena said, shaking her arms to scatter a few droplets. "I duck, it goes over my head, and nails her majesty there. I never hear the end of that. No thanks." She glanced over at Gabrielle, who had her hands over her mouth, stifling a giggle. "I rather take a wine bath." She reached out and put a drop of the liquid on the tip of the bard’s nose, then grinned at her. "Now I need to take a real bath. Be back." She left the room, shaking her head.

Ephiny watched here leave, then turned to Gabrielle, who was just licking the drop off her nose. "Well." she said, laughing a little.

"I told you." the bard said, perching on the corner of the desk. "She’s a lot of fun."

"Gabrielle, you bring that out in her, because let me tell you, I’ve never seen her that way before." Ephiny said, suddenly serious. "Never. And I’ve known her a while." She chuckled. "And no one, NO ONE is going to believe me if I tell them what I just saw." So I guess they’re changing each other. In good ways. Where will they both end up? Zeus only knows.

"Anyway, you’d better get dressed for dinner. You know we’re doing up a little something to say farewell to our queen, right?" Ephiny teased, seeing the pained expression on Gabrielle’s face. "Relax, it’s all very casual."

Gabrielle sighed. "Can I bring a guest?" she asked, with a wry grin.

"Could we keep her out?" Ephiny countered, with a wicked smile. "I’m not trying."

The fire was burning low in the dining hall that night before the banquet ended, and Gabrielle leaned forward, wincing, at the hours spent sitting on the padded but backless bench. It had even been a decent menu, and for once, she was stuffed at the end of an Amazon meal. Ouch. her body was protesting. Gotta get them to switch to chairs with backs on them. There’s knot the size of a..oh. As a powerful hand grabbed the knot, and with a steady motion, released the tension there. She sighed in relief, and turned her head. "Just how do you know exactly where to do that?"

"Just one of my many skills." Xena responded, finishing her work, but leaving her hand on the bard’s back. She herself had chosen a bench which was fairly near to a projecting wall support, and that, coupled with her long body, allowed the warrior the luxury of leaning back and escaping the bench torture.

"I suppose that includes the skill of knowing where to sit." The bard mentioned, giving her a wry grin.

Xena nodded, eyes half lidded. "Uh huh."

"And the skill of having a body just the right size to reach the wall." Gabrielle continued.

"Yep." The warrior agreed. "All part of the plan."

"I see." The bard replied. "Must be nice." She gazed out at the entertainment, and smiled. "They’re pretty good." Another wince. "Wish I.."

"Come here." Xena interrupted her, tugging on the back of her skirt.

Obligingly, the bard slid over onto the next bench. "Yes?"

"Lean back." Xena tapped her hand on her chest.

"Oh." the bard said, grinning. "OK. That’s much better." She settled back against Xena’s shoulder, and relaxed, as the warrior slid an arm around her waist. "Was that part of the plan, too?" she asked, teasingly.

"Yep." Xena answered, unruffled. Then she glanced down at Gabrielle, who giggled. "What?"

"No..sorry..it’s nothing. I just.." Gabrielle shrugged a bit. "thought you didn’t like..I mean...you never..." She stopped talking. "Oh, never mind."

Xena raised an eyebrow. "I don’t like public displays of affection?" she asked. "Right?"

"Well, yeah." the bard answered, a curious smile on her face.

Xena shrugged. "I got over it." A wolfish grin. "Besides, after yesterday, what’s the point?" She glanced down to catch the expected blush. They settled down to watch the entertainment, and share a few glasses of spiced wine. "Do you want to stop in and see your family?" Xena finally asked, taking a long swallow. Gotta ask. But gods, they don’t like me. And I suspect right now they’ll like me even less. A wry thought. Oh yeah.

Gabrielle stayed silent for a time, thinking. "Yeah." she finally said, reluctance in her voice."Maybe on the way out of Amphipolis" She sighed. "I should just stop in and let them know I’m still alive."

Xena frowned, and ducked her head to get a good look at Gabrielle’s face. "Hey..hey.. Gabrielle, they’re your family." What caused that? I know she wanted out of Potedeia, but she’s always spoken well of her mother..of Lila...

Gabrielle looked straight ahead. "You’re my family." she answered, taking a long sip of her own. "They don’t even know who I am, Xena. To them, I’m just the little sister who ran off two years ago."

Xena blew out a held breath, and thought. "My family adjusted. Yours can too." She offered, giving her a little squeeze. Oh... I’m not good at this. And I’m the last person on earth who should be giving out advice on family relationships.

The bard seemed to appreciate this point, because she turned her head and looked up at Xena with an impish grin. "Oh..great. I’ll just let you talk to them, then. You can explain everything." And giggled. Then giggled more, because Xena took advantage of the fact that she was in true Amazon garb and tickled her bare midriff, which was in easy reach. "Augh..stop it..I can’t be giggling here in front of the entire village"

Xena relented, and let her wind down, feeling the bard’s body relax completely against her chest, and her hands slide around the warrior’s own, clasping them. Aware that half the room was probably watching them, and just not caring. Maybe it was the firelight, or the spiced wine, or the sudden relaxation from the dangers just past. Maybe it was because for the first time in a very long time she was letting herself be carried along by emotions she usually kept a hard rein on. Trouble will come from this. I know it. I opened myself up too far, and I know I’m going to a pay for it. I know... but I can’t back up now. Maybe I can just... Her eyes closed, and she let her cheek rest against the fair head nestled against her shoulder. Maybe I can just have peace, for a little while.

Gabrielle felt the pressure and instinctively moved closer. Something’s going on with her. I can feel it. The bard mused, then examined that thought. I can feel it. Her brow creased. Wow. I wonder..."Xena?" she asked softly, not wanting to startle the warrior.

"Mmm?" her companion answered, a deep sound that the bard could feel vibrating against her head, where she was leaning against Xena’s throat.

If I’m wrong, she’s going to think I’m nuts. But that’s ok..I spout off all kinds of theories all the time anyway, right? Right. OK. " Do you remember Jessan’s parents?"

"Yes." Came the answer, in a hesitant voice. "Of course I do." In a more normal tone.

But Gabrielle could feel the steady heartbeat under her ear pick up. "We’re like them, aren’t we." Felt the sudden stop, then double thump of her heart that told her the answer before the warrior opened her mouth to speak.

"Jessan thinks so." Xena admitted, taking a deep breath. Trying to control her heartbeat, which she knew damn well Gabrielle could feel, they were so close. What’s she going to do with this? What’s she going to think...gods. What do I think? That’s the next question, right?’

"What do you think?" the bard asked, glancing up. Waiting patiently.

A long, long breath. "I don’t know for sure." Xena spoke slowly, thoughtfully. "Because we’re not part of his people." She gathered her courage and met the mist green eyes looking up at her. Found quiet, intense curiosity there. And acceptance. And decided. "But yeah, I think we might be." And here she was, in the middle of one of her biggest nightmares. The one where Gabrielle recoiled from what would seem to her an unnatural lifelong prison sentence, tied to a half mad, gods cursed, moody, hated by everyone ex warlord.

"Wow." The bard grinned, a deep, full, heartfelt grin that lit her eyes up as though she had candlelight reflected in her face. "Awesome." She squeezed the arms around her as hard as she could.

And with a word, and smile, delivered a dark soul back up into the light. Again. "Awesome?" Xena managed to get out, battling with a series of different emotions. "Gabrielle, I don’t think you understand.."

Gabrielle sighed happily. "Yeah I do. Beyond good sense, beyond death, beyond understanding. I remember. I think we’ve hit all three at least once." She laughed. "Maybe more than once." She half turned and gazed up at Xena’s face. "You know I’ve always said I thought every person had a soul mate, right?"

"Yeah." Xena gave up her resistance, and simply accepted the fact that Gabrielle really didn’t mind this.

The bard’s face went very solemn. "For a very long time.. I’ve known who mine was." There. It was easier than she’d thought it would be. Of course, the circumstances helped. Now all that remained was to see what the response was. Humor, a brush off, a gentle pat on the head... It was pretty probable that Xena didn’t feel the same depth of this that she did, after all the warrior had done so much, seen so much..probably thought Gabrielle was a idealistic youngster, probably didn’t....

"So have I." The deadly serious answer. There in a hall full of chattering Amazons, in flickering firelight, with the strains of a harpist behind them.

Gabrielle had to remind herself to start breathing again. Oh gods.. did she just say what I think I just heard? She suddenly felt lightheaded, and blinked several times to clear her vision, which seemed to blur for some reason. I can’t believe we’re having this discussion in the middle of a banquet. Her mind mused, more for something to do while her body got control of itself than anything else. The she felt Xena’s hand touch her cheek, and the gentle pressure of the warrior’s fingertips as she wiped away the tears under her eyes. "Glad we got that settled." the bard whispered, darting a glance up and getting captured by those blue eyes.

"Me too." Xena responded, a grin threatening to break out across her face. "Though we could have picked a more private place to do it in." She glanced around. "Like the town square in Athens."

They both laughed. Because it was a way to release an overflow of emotion that threatened both of their composures. And there would be time for that later.

The banquet was going strong, and Gabrielle knew her leaving would put an end to it, so she settled back and tried to give her attention to the musicians. They were good, but her mind was fully occupied with other things, like an internal chuckling that just wouldn’t seem to stop, and a giddy feeling of well being that kept crashing over her like an ocean wave. They could be tone deaf one legged jugglers, and I wouldn’t know the difference, she chided herself. That’s not good for someone who considers themselves a bard. She took in a deep breath, and with an effort, focused her attention, eventually losing herself in the performance, and not even realizing when she drifted off.

"Aww." Granella leaned over and whispered to Ephiny. "Is that not cute?" She chuckled, and poked the blond Amazon in the ribs, motioning with her chin.

Ephiny turned her head, and laughed in reflex at the sight of their queen fast asleep nestled in Xena’s protective arms. "Gods." she shook her head in mild disbelief. "Yeah, it’s cute."

Granella cocked her dark head. "Music must soothe the savage breast..I think even Xena’s dozed off there." Her eyebrow rose, and she giggled. "Someone better write this down."

Ephiny studied the warrior. "You think so? Watch." She reached out and plucked a grape from the dish in front of her, then with a quick flip of her wrist, sent it flying across the room. It was caught in mid air with a lazy swipe of Xena’s hand, and a pair of piercing blue eyes pinned her to her place. She grinned. "See?"

The dark haired Amazon snorted. "Damn." She grinned. "Wish I had those kind of reflexes. Doesn’t she ever let up?" And chuckled as the warrior examined the grape, and with a little shrug in their direction, popped it in her mouth.

"Not that I ever noticed." Ephiny replied with a wry grin. "And considering what she goes up against, it’s probably better that way." Her brow creased. "For both of them."

"Mmmm." Granella agreed. "That was way too close a close call for my guts, Ephiny. I know you didn’t see it, but I took off right after her, and I did. And so did Solari." She shook her dark head. "Too close."

Ephiny sighed. "I know. And believe me, I had my heart in my throat the entire way from here to there. I almost fell down when I got there and saw everything was OK, because I asked her to come here, Granella." The blond Amazon covered her eyes. "What on earth would I have done if Arella’s arrow had found it’s mark? I’ve never been so scared in my life." She glanced up. "I never thought Arella would do it."

"Yeah." the dark haired scout sighed. "But she’s paying the price. Hey, did I hear right, did Xena actually go in and set her shoulder?"

Ephiny snorted. "You heard right. The healers were kicking my butt for asking her to, but she breezed in, you know, her typical intimidating self, weapons and all, scaring everyone half to death, went bap bap bap, and boom. It was over. " She chuckled. "Just like that." She sat back and stretched, wincing. "Well, I think it’s time we wrapped up this little shindig..not that it’s not fun, but it’ll be dawn soon."

Xena watched as Ephiny and Granella straightened up from their seats, and started heading her way. She glanced down at her sleeping companion with a grin, and tapped her lightly on the shoulder. "Hey." Another tap. "Hey!"

"Hmm?" the bard mumbled, stirring. "What..oh." Recognizing the braced arms around her. "Hi. Um...did I fall asleep?"

"Uh huh." Xena replied, giving her a little squeeze. "And Ephiny’s on her way over here. I thought you’d rather walk out on your own instead of be carried out like a little kid."

"Xena!" Gabrielle rolled her eyes. "You wouldn’t have." A glance up at the smiling blue eyes. "Gods..you would have." She sat up, and ran her fingers through her hair, and rubbed her eyes. "I can’t believe I fell asleep in the middle of a banquet." she muttered, giving Xena an embarrassed look. "You could have poked me."

Xena chuckled, and rubbed her back. "Nah. You looked so peaceful, I didn’t have the heart." She glanced up as Ephiny arrived, and gave her a nod. "Nice grape."

"Grape?" Gabrielle asked, giving her a look. "What grape?"

"Ephiny was testing my reflexes." Xena responded, dryly. "Wanted to make sure her queen was safe, I guess."

Ephiny snorted. "Oh yes.. that was on the top of my list of things to worry about tonight, let me tell you." She leaned on the table. "About time to wrap things up, your majesty." Grinning at the bard’s rolled eyes. "Good night."

"Yeah, yeah." Gabrielle yawned, as she stood and stretched. "Good night to you, too."

They walked outside, where the air was much cooler, and the night sounds had begun their transition into pre dawn. Xena heard the rustling of restlessly waking birds above her, waiting for the first color in the sky, and the scent of dew, and the rising of the gentle wind that carried the soft voices of the other banquet goers now headed to their own quarters.

"Is it even worth going to sleep?" Gabrielle asked, stifling a yawn. "Sun’ll be up soon." She half turned to peer up at Xena, who was strolling along in silence.

"Mmm.." Xena responded. "Probably not." A gentle grin appeared on her face. "You wanted to get an early start..." she shrugged. "So did I." Noticing the sudden pressure of the bard’s around her. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders in response. Remembering in sudden rush what they’d said to each other back there. In the noisy banquet hall.

They ducked inside the door to the queen’s quarters, and Gabrielle loosened her hold, crossing the room and busying herself at the desk. "I think I have everything packed." She muttered, shuffling some of the scrolls on the surface. Glancing up, watching Xena take a seat on the low padded bench against the wall, stretching her long legs out, and crossing them. In the low torchlight, the bard only caught the faint glints of the light against her armor. And weapons, which she had worn to the hall. And the twin points of light that were her eyes. Which Gabrielle found herself drawn to like a moth to a candle flame.

She took a breath, then finished packing her scrolls away, making small talk, to which Xena contributed her usual series of short responses. She had no idea what she said. Finally, she was done, and putting a cheerful look on her face, she casually crossed to the bench, and stood looking down at the warrior, who arms crossed, seemed completely relaxed.

Xena tilted her head to one side, and regarded her companion. Then she uncrossed her arms, spreading the right one along the back of the bench, and gestured for her to sit down with the other. "Sit." she commented. "We’ve got a little while before the sun comes up. Might as well be comfortable."

"Thanks." Gabrielle said, sliding onto the bench, and curling up next to her, tucking her legs under her body. "Will you show me where you climbed the cliff?" She asked, giving the warrior a teasing look. "Gotta know how to describe it for the story I’m writing." She giggled at the strangled gargling noise from Xena, and leaned back against the strong arm behind her. "You didn’t think I would let this one go by, did you?"

"Gabrielle.." Xena’s low rumble. "How about making the story about you..since you’re the one who did all the really important stuff, huh?"

"Oh, sure. Except the parts everyone loves to hear are about you." The bard countered, leaning closer, and poking her in the ribs. "The exciting parts. No one wants to hear about conducting a treaty with the centaurs." She gave a playful tug on Xena’s armor. "But they do want to hear about scaling an impossible cliff, about outrunning the Amazon’s fastest scouts..yeah, don’t think I didn’t hear about that, either..from Granella and the others...about diving off a two story embankment...glad I didn’t see that...and right in front of a firing crossbow." She grinned, sensing victory. "You...are.. a.. hero." She pronounced in triumph, daring Xena to contradict her.

Xena gazed at her, a little smile playing around her lips. "Gabrielle, I did all that because you... are my hero." In a quiet, serious tone. Robbing the bard of thought. Of speech. Of breathing.

Busted. She had won again. Because Gabrielle had no answer for that, having never remotely considered she’d ever hear it said, her being a hero being so unlikely. Right?

For a long moment, all she could hear were the night sounds, the wind snapping the leaves, the fluttering flame of the torches. And two sets of breathing. Finally "Did anyone ever tell you that you have a way with words?" Gabrielle laughed gently.

Xena’s eyebrow rose, but she smiled. "Nope. Lots of other things, but never that." With a twinkle in her eye. "Maybe you’re a bad influence."

"Maybe." the bard agreed, softly. She dropped her glance, then raised it to Xena’s shoulder, and lifted one hand, tracing the new scars there. "Where did you get these?" Darting a glance to her eyes, close by and penetrating.

"Panther." she replied. "Night after you left." Her gaze went distant. "I had.. been doing some drills. Came back to camp, and a wolf cub stumbled in." She gave the bard a brief grin. "Went to take him back to momma, and found that instead."

"Oh." Gabrielle reflected. "Mother dead?"

"Mm." the warrior acknowledged.

The bard sighed, and shook her head, leaning over to touch the twin set on Xena’s other shoulder. "Ouch."

"Yeah." Xena shrugged. "But I’ve had worse." She smiled, and reached out to part Gabrielle’s hair over her temple, examining the bump Arella’s staff had put there yesterday. "That looks OK." Meeting the green eyes so close to hers. Feeling the bard’s hand slid up her shoulder, and come to rest just under her jaw. She wasn’t sure then which one of them started it first, but it didn’t really matter. At least this time we don’t have a gaggle of centaurs and amazons watching us, Xena thought, then stopped thinking and concentrated on the kissing instead.

Which went on for a while, as they took their time, exploring each other with an almost hesitant enthusiasm. Gabrielle took a break to breathe, finally, and let her head drop against Xena’s shoulder. "You’re really good at that, you know?" she murmured into the warrior’s conveniently placed ear.

"Think so?" Xena responded lazily, quirking an eyebrow at her.

"Oh yeah." The bard assured her. Then glanced over her shoulder at the gray dawn light outlining the window. "Damn."

Xena’s eyebrow curled even higher, and she chuckled. "Leave the party earlier next time, huh?" She teased, trailing a finger down the bard’s face.

Gabrielle took a deep breath. "We’re going to continue this conversation later, right?" Her lips quirked into a grin. Ohh..I think I like this. A lot. More than a lot.

"Oh..." Xena drawled, eyes sparkling. "I would say that’s a pretty good guess." And leaned forward to catch her lips a final time, for a very long moment. "One for the road." She chuckled, when they separated. Sounds of the waking village began to filter through the morning fog, and they just sat there for a minute, arms wrapped around each other, listening. "Come on." Xena said, finally. "I’ll go get Argo packed up. You see if you can get some breakfast out of the dining hall."

Gabrielle yawned and nodded. "OK. They might even give me something edible after you scared them to death yesterday." She poked Xena in the ribs. "And I have to say goodbye to Ephiny, and all. " A pause. "And Arella."

Xena nodded. "Give her my regards." She replied, with a wry grin. "Be back." And stood, and walked out into the first glints of the rising sun.

Gabrielle stood quietly for a moment, gazing out the open doorway, a half smile on her face. Then she looked down at her boots, crossing her arms and giving her head a little shake. "Whoo.. it’s been quite a week." She muttered to empty air. C’mon, Gabrielle. Move it..get going...dunk your head in cold water. She snickered to herself. Dunking the rest of my body in cold water would be more useful right now, though. Wow.

She cleared her throat, and released a heartfelt sigh, then busied herself putting together her gear, and exchanging her Amazon garb for her regular traveling clothes. She finished arranging her skirt, and headed out the door towards the dining hall, calling a cheerful hello to the Amazons she passed. One of whom was Ephiny, who trotted a few extra steps to catch up with her.

"Morning." Ephiny grumbled, blinking at her. "Or should I say, late yesterday evening."

"Morning!" Gabrielle replied, grinning at her. "It’s beautiful today, don’t you think? Great day for traveling." She indicated the lightening sky, which was cloudless, and with the fog burning off, promised a clear cool day.

Ephiny glared at her. "Whoa..whoa...when did you become a morning person? Are you that glad to be leaving?"

The bard slowed down and lifted a hand in protest." Ephiny..no..that’s not it. I’m sorry..I’m just in a good mood this morning.. really.." She tried and failed to keep a grin off her face. "I’m just.. " A plaintive look at the Amazon.

"All right, all right.." Ephiny relented, waving her off. "I get the picture." She sighed. "Look, I know it’s been rough for you here. And that you’re glad your life is getting back to..well, what you consider to be normal." She gave her a look.

Gabrielle stopped dead, and turned to face Ephiny, her face now very serious. "What exactly do you mean by that?" She asked, quietly, staring right into the Amazon’s eyes, and lowering her voice.

And Ephiny, feeling a sense of danger, stepped back. And blinked. "Uh..." she stammered, "Only...Gods, Gabrielle! I only meant that we.. I, anyway, thought that we could provide you with a place of stability. For a while. It must be so hard to be out there, moving around all the time." She gazed uneasily at this suddenly menacing woman she had though she had known.

Gabrielle stepped forward, maintaining icy eye contact with the blond woman. "You don’t think I know enough to understand what my choices are in that regard?" She asked, low and dangerous. "I go where I go because I want to go there, Ephiny. And I stay where I stay because that’s where I want to be." Damn..that look really works!

"OK." Ephiny held up both hands in surrender. "Ok, ok, listen, I’m sorry." Wow..I need to back off..I need to stop thinking of this woman as a child, before I get my head handed to me. "I’m really sorry.. Gabrielle, I do care about what happens to you. I’m sorry if that comes out as me being...whatever."

The bard relented, easing up on her stare, and relaxing her posture. "I know. It’s OK, Ephiny. I just get really tired of people thinking I’m just following Xena around like a puppy dog who doesn’t know any better. I do know better. I know how dangerous it is. I know what could happen. I do it in spite of all that, not because I don’t have the choice."

"I know." Ephiny said quietly. "What I really wanted to say was that you’ll always have a home here, if you want one." She paused. "Or if you need one."

Gabrielle smiled. "I know that." she said, grasping the Amazon’s shoulder. "Thank you."

Ephiny smiled, and pulled her into a hug. "Take care of yourself, Gabrielle." she said. " And keep an eye on her, too." she added softly.

The bard chuckled. "I’ll try." she resumed walking. "I’m going up to grab some breakfast, and then to see Arella. Want to come with me?" As a peace offering, because she knew Ephiny hadn’t meant to get her angry. But she also knew Ephiny probably wouldn’t’ make that mistake again, and that thought filled her with a rueful pride. Guess I am growing up. she mused.

"Sure" Ephiny agreed, and they walked on.

Xena finished loading up Argo, and led her to the infirmary, where she’d seen Gabrielle disappear several moments before. "Shh..girl. We’re off soon." She crooned to the mare, who flicked an attentive ear at her. She dropped the mare’s halter line as she approached the infirmary and ducked her head to enter, spotting Gabrielle and Ephiny in the corner where Arella was being tended to. As she stepped inside, she was aware of eyes darting to her, and holding. But that was nothing new..she was used to it, even in places where they didn’t know who she was. Probably was the height and the leather, she mused, idly. She turned her head and returned the stares, which suddenly found other things to be interested in. Wonder what would happen if I skipped in here with a flower in my teeth? The thought popped into her mind, causing her mouth to twitch in a wry grin. I’ll have to try it sometime for the shock value.

Gabrielle, as though sensing her presence Probably does...now that I think about it. I always do hers. turned as she approached, and gave her a nod and a smile. She smiled back, ignoring Ephiny’s smirk. And looked down at Arella, who was gazing at her warily, but without the fear she had shown yesterday. There was a tablet next to her hand, which she had been using to write messages, since she was unable to open her jaw more than an inch. Xena reflexively flexed her left hand, which had done that bit of damage.

Gabrielle looked up at her, detecting that faint edgy menace that she often wore around her like a cloak when she was in what she thought of as enemy territory. It had quite an effect, the bard had to admit. "Everything ready?" she asked, in a normal voice. Watching Xena nod, then move back against the wall and lean against it, jerking a chin at her to continue what she was doing.

Which the bard did, picking up the tablet and reading it, glad that the focus of attention in the room was now somewhere else. It read:

Gabrielle,

I won’t apologize to you, because I followed my beliefs, and those I won’t abandon.

But if it matters, I’m glad she stopped the arrows.

Gabrielle took a breath, and reread it several times, while she thought about her response. Finally, she looked up, and met those gray eyes squarely. And leaned forward, so that the Amazon alone could hear her words. "Arella, it matters." she said, gently. "And I freely forgive you for trying to kill me." Seeing the shock and surprise in those eyes. "But.." and she lowered her voice further, made her gaze more intense. "For going after her, no. That I can’t forgive you for. Six of your sisters died for that."

Scribbling on the tablet. She killed them!

"No." The gentle voice was inflexible. "You killed them. Just as surely as if you’d shot them with that crossbow. I told you that you didn’t understand."

A look of agony. You did say that.

"Just because I love peace, and believe we can achieve more with words than weapons, doesn’t mean I don’t know what those weapons can do, Arella." Gabrielle gazed at her, sadly. "I was hoping her reputation would keep anyone from doing something stupid."

Furious writing. Reputations can be misleading...can be faked...can be wrong.

"Not this time." Gabrielle sighed.

No. a short scribble. I should have taken your warning. A pause...more writing. I should have listened to Erika. She knew. Her eyes strayed to the far wall, where Xena was waiting, in the shadows, only the pale glint of her eyes apparent. Then she looked full at Gabrielle. How? she wrote, pausing to consider her words. How can you know her as well as you do, and not understand us?

The bard sat quietly for some minutes, thinking about her answer to that. It was a good question, she mused. "Because she doesn’t do violence just for the sake of violence. Not anymore. And if she can change, so can you." she finally said, meeting Arella’s eyes.

Because of you? Raised eyebrows.

"No." And Gabrielle smiled. "Because of you. That comes from in here." She reached out and tapped on Arella’s chest. "But sometimes it helps to have help." She let her eyes slide to where Erika was patiently waiting, with Ephiny against the wall. Then slid them back, and let a tiny grin curl her lips.

Maybe. A grudging look. Goodbye, green eyes. And her look almost, almost held a hint of affection.

Gabrielle nodded at her, and stood. "Be well." She said, quietly. And walked out with Ephiny and Xena on either side of her, in silence.

"What do you want to do with her?" Ephiny asked, as they reached Argo’s side.

The bard paused, and glanced at Xena, a question in her eyes.

"Well, you have three choices." Xena said, as though she had been considering this very matter. Which she had. Knowing the question would be put to her. "You can banish her, you can break her to servant status, or you could force her into an apprenticeship with an older Amazon, one with more peaceful leanings, who might teach her something."

Now, they’ll ask me for a recommendation. She predicted.

"Which do you recommend?" Gabrielle asked, point blank. C’mon Xena..this is way out of my league, and you know it. Give me some help here.

The warrior chewed her lip for a moment. With this one, there really isn’t a perfect solution. Any of them would grate on her. "Banishment is dangerous. You have enough renegade groups running around for her to join. Breaking her to servant is a waste of resources, and she’d take off anyway. " Xena paused. "So, you really can only use the third option. But Eph, pick someone with as strong a personality as hers. Maybe if they can get her respect, it might work."

Ephiny and Gabrielle looked at each other. "Oh boy" Ephiny groaned. "You’re going to make me tell Eponin, aren’t you?"

"Gotta go." Gabrielle grinned, and patted Argo. "Hi Argo."

Xena chuckled, and, crouching slightly, vaulted onto the golden mare, who was still saddleless. She turned around, and extended her forearm. "Come on. I know you’ve been wanting to try riding bareback."

"Bye, Eph." Gabrielle smiled, and gave her a hug, then grabbed Xena’s arm, and was lifted up to Argo’s broad back. "Whoa.." she said, startled, as the mare moved under her. "A lot slipperier this way."

Xena rolled her eyes, and kneed the mare forward. "Just hang on."

"No problem there." the bard answered, wrapping both arms around her and holding tight.She waved as they crossed the middle ground, and headed out the entrance to the village, and chuckled as they passed under the first of the surrounding branches. "I could get to like this." Snuggling close and laying her head on Xena’s back. "Remember, you promised to show me the cliff."

Xena sighed. She had. And Gabrielle was going to lose it when she saw the damn thing, too. Maybe she could say it was a lower cliff...

#xena #xena warrior princess #xena/gabrielle #xena/gabrielle fanfiction #xwp #pg-13 #femslash #fanfiction #author: melissa good

[naruhearts]

OKAY SO I've just spent the best part of an hour scrolling through your blog and reading a bunch of your destiel meta and I HAD to message you... I was one of the many people who STRONGLY believed destiel had a chance of being canon after season 8 (more like season gr8 am i right), but throughout the years I slowly lost all hope. However, S14 has made me 110% invested in the show again and YOUR META IS GIVING ME HOPE FOR DESTIEL, which is TERRIFYING. Your writing is wonderful and I'm STRESSED.

Got back from Washington late last night!

Oh my gosh @alovelikecas, your message really made my day and I’m SO glad you enjoy my meta xox (even when most of my meta looks like, to me, sloppy-ass writing, haha! I’ll probably make an end-season meta post after 14x20 — if I have the time — that touches upon SPN’s current and repeating themes since Season New Beginnings S12/Dabb Era, not to mention I have, like, some more unfinished meta in my drafts >.>)

Yeah I mean, I didn’t join Destiel land until Summer 2016, and before that, I was late to the Season 11 party, so I basically had no narrative context for anything, and I’ll copy-paste what I said here: 

Looking back, one significant thing I recall? S11 gave me a sense of Destiel’s true narrative validity (as not a ‘fanon’ ship but organically developed in the canon) when I perceived it as a season that was ‘missing something’. Keep in mind I had no idea about Destiel yet while watching S11 at the time.

I was literally asking myself — repeatedly — why Dean/Amara seemed to contain odd narrative holes, considering A. Dean explicitly said that the non-consensual attraction he felt for Amara was NOT love and “it scares him”, B. Amara told Dean that ‘something stops you - keeps you from having it all’, C. Djinn!Amara stated that she can: ‘feel the love [Dean] feels, except it’s cloaked in shame,’ and D. Mildred’s iconic ‘You’re pining for someone’ —> which did not logically correlate with A and C, meaning: since Dean doesn’t freely love Amara and thus isn’t possibly pining for her — with female love interests as currently non-existent (I remember crossing off the dead/gone girls on a piece of paper lol) — who the hell was he pining for, then?

Originally posted by elizabethrobertajones

Obviously, without writing long-ass paragraphs of meta about it again in this post, S11 made sense as soon as I watched it within the Destiel context (especially after I read up on some grandiose pieces of Destiel meta (@charlie-minion was the very first person who inspired me to write meta; I followed her once I joined the fandom Oh my god, here we go, holy crap this subtext – I’m invested in this godforsaken ship because they’re in love with each other and I’m not getting off any time soon. The rest is history.

I’m aware that I do come off as positive (and I’m still Destiel-positive; whatever happens in 14x20 this week may or may not change that), but I hope you don’t mind if I use your lovely ask as an additional opportunity to clarify my meta standpoint: no one’s saying Destiel WILL become text. 

The general Destiel meta community (all subfactions: Destiel-positive, -negative, -neutral, and in-between) is not the Most Holy Canon Word, and we aren’t SPN writers, and again, we can’t actually speak to the veracity of Destiel as guaranteed-gonna-go-textual, but we — a diverse pool of critical thinkers from all walks of life: particularly those who have some degree of experience in literary academia/English literature studies (fun fact: I was actually pursuing a Minor’s in English until I changed my mind - my first love’s Health Science/Biology, which I stuck with, but here I am doing lit-crit analysis on the side *wink*) — can speak to the veracity of Destiel as a real, palpable, and ever-substantial long-running romance narrative aka the love story between Dean and Cas IS THERE. I see it. We all see it. We didn’t pluck it out of the random ether one day. It naturally evolved across the show’s overarching narrative like some vast spiderweb, linked together by numerous character arc amalgamations of Dean Winchester and Castiel as separate individuals who were then brought together — who brought themselves together, by the sheer force of free will and choice — and are now inherent parts of the other’s story (and respective character progression).

I say this too many times to count: the entire point of writing meta? Personally, it enables me to appreciate the literary gorgeousness of Dean and Cas’ relationship as, first and foremost, a tentative alliance offset by the very moment Cas raised Dean from perdition (it’s a poetic beginning). Their alliance then inevitably proliferated into a rocky — at times, necessarily turbulent — friendship, then a deep profound bond…one that crossed platonic boundaries since S7/8 and is, ultimately, indelibly rooted in romance. Together, Dean and Cas build up each other’s strengths, complement each other’s flaws, and narratively motivate the other to self-introspect — to become the best version of themselves that they were always meant to be: self-actualized entities who let go of their painful, horrifying, psychologically/emotionally destitute pasts.

These above reasons and more are why I think Destiel belongs right up there on the shelf of Ye Olde Classics, similar to epics by John Milton, Shakespearian tragic dramas, Homeric characteristic cruxes, and the great Odyssey journey: a legendary journey, fraught with circumstance, that finally ended with Odysseus (now an enlightened man) returning to Penelope, the love of his life.

Channeling the scope of Homer’s Odyssey, Destiel is an incredible storytelling feat of obstacles, both internal and external, romance tropes, mirroring, foreshadowing, and visual cadence/emotion, enhancing SPN’s already character-driven main plot in that Dean and Cas try to make it back to one another; like Penelope, their love holds true despite everything. If Destiel were an M/F couple, we all know their love story would be absolutely undeniable to the GA.

I do understand the bitterness S14’s fostered in some viewers, though. I do understand that Dean and Cas seem distant (and yeah, it’s a noticeable difference compared to S12/S13), but I believe the Destiel subtext is still heavy and holds steady.

Right now, at this point, there remains multiple personal issues for the characters to solve, you know? Dean and Cas aren’t talking properly; their love languages stay mistranslated, although we’re persistently shown that they still understand each other on a certain level that no one else can, and the visual narrative keeps framing them as on-the-nose solid counterparts: a domestic-spousal romantic unit independent of Sam.

Originally posted by incatastrophicmind

They want to be there for the other. They need to quash the final remnants of their respective internal loathing (Dean’s self-worthiness, Cas’ self-expendability) before they’re able to give the other 100% of their time, efforts, attention, and love (as flawed and complicated but compellingly beautiful as it can possibly be). During the times Dean and Cas do try to talk shit out, extraneous issues continue to get between them.

As other friends/meta pals discussed with me, S14 is like S10 in that it’s confusing the cast/audiences. And exactly: S8, besides S11/S12/early S13, also belongs in the close-to-canon serious Destiel narrative transition! I can discuss the showrunning/writer problem of SBL (Singer + Bucklemming; @occamshipper hits the nail on the head) that tugs subtext – especially subtext linked to Destiel – back and forth, sometimes in the weirdest nonsensical ways, but I won’t go too far into it here. I agree, however, with the recent idea that Jensen does seem a bit confused as to where he should bring Dean emotionally this season (don’t get me wrong, I do NOT believe Dean is OOC; OOC is a completely different concept vs expected character behaviour). And if Dean’s consistently romance-coded past interactions with Cas are any indication, Jensen would also — in the same vein as all of us — want Dean and Cas to start getting their shit together. Long-running fictional characters like Dean and Cas, conceived over 10 years, are so well-written to the point where you, the author, can predict what they’ll do even if you just plop both of them inside a room and give them no direction, and I personally feel that nowadays Jensen is prevented from achieving Dean’s further internal growth/unsure how to act in the moment because of some dumb SBL scripts saying one thing while his character’s heart says another. Wank aside—

Season 15 should hopefully convey a much more logical subtextual perspective e.g. unbelievably amazingly cohesive Season Destiel 11 that aired after choppy S10. Not all hope is lost!! I also want to clarify that I personally LOVED Season 14 in general. It’s been mostly Emotion-centric constant, with Yockey, Berens, Perez, and Dabb usually making my top-rank SPN writer list.

Currently the narrative’s still allowing pretty significant (imho) wiggle room for the lovers to fracture apart and get back together, where their miscommunication comes to a dramatic head. We just saw Dean and Cas argue over Jack’s well-being in 14x18 and 19. Dean — besides putting Cas at the top of his You’re-Dead-to-Me-Because-You-Lied-but-I-Still-Love-You-Goddammit hitlist (for clear spousal-coded reasons) and taking Cas’ actions to heart (he’s the person he trusted the most who lied to him) — no doubt blamed himself for what happened, and Sam was, like I said, the mouthpiece of truth. TFW were all culpable. They all failed Jack in some way, shape, or form.

I’m not expecting anything for 14x20, but I’m nervous either way! Thanks for sticking with my long answer

#ask #alovelikecas #destiel positive #my stuff #my meta #spn s14 speculation #spn s15 #season who am 14 #supernatural #destiel #narrative #character development #wank for ts #ish #spn s14 #spn s11 #deancas #the greatest love story ever told #14x18 #14x19

[aardvark-123]

Gensokyo Festival Rewrite: Tales from a Blossomed Wonderland

I think I made this one a bit better and more consistent, although not too much of the actual structure needed changing. Here are a few tales of the first days of Spring.

Youmu was afloat in an ocean of pure beauty. Warm sunlight filtered through the boundless flowers above, bathing her in a soft pink glow. She closed her eyes, drank in the sweet, heady air and let out a deep sigh of ecstasy.

"These cherry blossoms are just perfect, aren't they?" murmered Yuyuko. She shuffled a little closer to Youmu, rested her head against the tall cherry tree she was snoozing under and gave her hair a little stroke. "I'm so glad we came out here. So beautiful..."

"Spring is the greatest!" agreed Youmu, snuggling up against her master's soft blue robe. "Nothing but flowers and beauty all around us, and this is just the first day! We don't even have to awaken any evil youkai in order to enjoy it."

Yuyuko laughed nervously. "I guess that's a plus."

"Yes..." Youmu frowned. "I do feel bad about what we did. All this life and beauty, all the birds and the butterflies and the blossoms and the bunnies... This is what you wanted me to steal! I just..." she sighed deeply. "Please don't make me steal any more seasons."

"Don't worry. After all this, I don't think I could ever bring myself to." Yuyuko smiled mischievously. "Then again, a couple more Saturday afternoons wouldn't hurt..."

"Y-you're not serious?!" Youmu sat up in shock, her eyes widening.

"Nope!" giggled Yuyuko. "Wouldn't mind an extra teatime, though. Come on, let's go to the shrine!"

"All right!" Youmu stood up and stretched. She took two steps and tripped over a sunbathing fairy.

"Oh, my...! Have a nice trip!" Yuyuko giggled as she stood over the sprawling samurai and confused fairy. "Say, have I seen you around here before?"

"Umm... Maybe?" The fairy tilted her head. "I'm Lily White! I herald the coming of spring!"

"Aren't you a bit late, then?" Youmu rose to her feet, rubbing her bruised shoulder. "Spring has already started!"

Lily looked at the clouds of pink blossoms in the air, then at the flowers blooming at her feet. Then she let out a piercing scream of horror. Youmu fell flat on her back.

"Oh, no! I don't believe it! This is the worst! I can't believe I overslept at the start of spring. I don't deserve to live!" Lily wept into her conical hat.

Yuyuko gave Youmu a worried look.

"No. This is not the last day of Lily White." Lily rose into the air, her whole body shining with the power of nature. Her diaphenous pink wings flared out behind her. "I may be late, but I won't give up! I will announce Spring to everyone! I feel the power of the universe radiating inside me! Onwards, Fairy Herald of Spring!" Lily soared away through the forest, accompanied by triumphant music.

"Okay... Okay. Very nice." Yuyuko noticed Benben and Yatsuhashi playing the triumphant music behind a stout tree and gave them a friendly wave. "Very... Very atmospheric. Uhh, come on, Youmu! Let's go eat!"

"It's Spring, it's Spring! Listen, everyone! IT'S SPRING!"

Resplendent in her white-and-red dress, Lily danced through the flowery meadows. Her socks and cute buckle-shoes were soaked with dew, but she didn't care. This was her time to shine.

Lily's face lit up. She'd spotted a couple of friends at the edge of the Great Youkai Forest. "Cirno! Eternity! Did you hear?! IT'S SPRING!"

Cirno and Eternity Larva looked up in amazement as Lily ran over.

"It's Spring, friends! It's finally here! SPRING!"

Cirno sprang up and punched Lily in the face. "Are you quite through?! Not everyone likes spring, y'know!"

Eternity gasped. "Cirno, you can't do that! It's her job to tell us when Spring starts!"

Cirno grit her teeth. "Believe it or not, I've known it was Spring all day. Just look! How could I not have noticed?! Look!"

"Ughhh... It's dothig persodal..." groaned Lily. Nevertheless, she tried to focus in the direction Cirno was pointing. Her eyes went wide. Sweating and hugging herself in nothing but a flimsy bathing suit, Letty Whiterock was curled up between the roots of a tall tree.

"She's been there since last week." Cirno's voice was tense. Cold tears were sparkling on her cheeks; Lily realised Cirno had been crying all along. "Another year sleeping, too hot to move or talk or have any fun... This is what Spring does to people, Lily. This is why I have to become the strongest fairy and cover the world in eternal winter."

Lily was horrified. All her life, she'd believed Spring was the greatest season ever, but now she was shaken to the core. Spring could hurt people, force them to sleep until their own season came again? It boggled her mind.

People needed Spring, though. They needed food and flowers and newborn lambs and mud to roll in. (The latter was mainly for the Aki Sisters.) Even if it could hurt people, it still needed announcing, and Lily was never going to let Spring be stolen again. Even if that meant becoming stronger even than Cirno... And killing her.

Eternity glanced up at the nearby tree from atop which the Tsukumo Sisters were playing some dark, suspenseful music. "Shouldn't you have a violinist with you?"

Benben shook her head. "Lunasa's busy right now."

"Bravo, bravo! Oh, that was simply marvellous!" Alice and Shanghai clapped appreciatively from their seats in the Prismrivers' expansive back garden. "I still struggle to believe three sisters can sound as good as an entire orchestra!"

Lyrica laughed. "I wouldn't say we're that good. Maybe a medium-sized ensemble, or a choir..."

"Or a barbershop quartet!" Merlin piped up.

Lyrica sighed. "Yes, dear sister, a triad of superlatively talented musicians can be compared to four imbeciles who can just about harmonise. Thank you for that insight."

"Lyrica, she doesn't mean any harm," said Lunasa sympathetically.

"I'm sure she doesn't, but... She really gets my goat sometimes."

Merlin grinned. "And I'm proud of it!"

Lyrica's eyes narrowed. She reached for a large cream cake, but found Alice's hand firmly upon her arm.

"Come now, Lyrica, you mustn't sink to your sister's level."

Lyrica pouted mightily. "I'll sink to it if I want..."

"Yes, well." Alice took a fortifying sip of tea. "I do love the classical European arts. Noh, kabuki, gagaku, ukiyo-e are all fine, and I won't deny that manga and J-pop deserve to exist, but there is nothing quite like the sweet melody of the violin."

Merlin and Lyrica bristled.

"Not that the trumpet and the piano are any worse!" said Alice hastily. "Beautiful instruments, they truly are. The very salt of the earth. And, well, what I am saying is... You should all be proud of yourselves. I have never met greater artists."

"Oh, Alice, thank you!" cried Lunasa.

"Yeah, that really means a lot!" said Merlin, blushing vividly.

"We put a tremendous amount of effort into our performances. Hearing that from you almost... M-makes me..." Lyrica wept with joy.

"You're most welcome, you three. I simply love your music!" smiled Alice. "Tell me, though... Do you think you could teach Shanghai to play?"

"Um," said Lunasa, "your doll?"

"Teach a doll to play music?" said Merlin, tilting her head in confusion.

"Yes." Alice's eyes were wide and innocent. "I deserve a favour after giving you all those compliments, do I not?"

The sisters shared a worried look.

Yukari closed her three gaps, sat back against her ten goose-feather pillows and smiled. "All is well again, it seems. In spite of all the chaos we've just had, peace reigns over Gensokyo. Perhaps it will last as long as a week!" she giggled.

"Unlikely, Mistress. According to my calculations, there will be at least one minor Incident the day after tomorrow, and a major one could be less than a month away," said Ran, who was standing patiently beside her master's massive four-poster bed. "I estimate a sixty-three point twelve percent chance that the Lunarians will attempt something at least mildly annoying, although what it will be I cannot say."

"Well, quite." Yukari cleared her throat. "Listen, Ran, I think I feel a nap coming on. Get me some warm milk."

"At once, Mistress." Ran rose to her feet and strode off. She paused in the doorway and turned back to Yukari. "By the way, Mistress, I've noticed that patches of the barrier are still weakening. Is there anything I can do to help you repair it after your snooze?"

Yukari was silently impressed with Ran's ability to nudge her to do things without ever giving a direct criticism. "Thank you, but no. I'm just leaving it to see what happens."

"I am sure that is a wise choice," said Ran levelly.

"Yes. Quite." Yukari smiled. "I mean, it's not as if Reimu and her little friends are going to fly all the way over here and force me to fix it now! They couldn't even get past Chen if you're with her."

"Damn straight they couldn't!" Chen poked her head up from under the quilt. "If anyone tries to hurt my master and her sleepy friend, I'll rip their kneecaps off." Ran gasped. "Chen! How could you think of hiding in-"

"No, it's all right. I asked her to lick my feet clean," Yukari cut Ran off. "And you've done a lovely job, too, Chen. You deserve a nice glass of milk!"

"Yay!" squeaked Chen, who couldn't wait to get the salty taste out of her mouth.

#Touhou #writing #my writing #my stuff #Youmu Konpaku #Yuyuko Saigyouji #Lily White #Cirno #Eternity Larva #Merlin Prismriver #Lunasa Prismriver #Lyrica Prismriver #Alice Margatroid #Ran Yakumo #Yukari Yakumo #Chen Yakumo

[look-up-at-the-starless-sky]

Shoes Fitting - Daniel Ricciardo one shot

So now, I started with this one shot...

That was a sunny day in Perth. He, fortunately, had time to enjoy his short off in his hometown. Of course, he had to go back soon to his business — as an F1 driver — but now he decided not to mind it. He just needed to relax and went to find some stimulation.

The main streets of Perth had a number of new shops, and he strolled with window-shopping. It was good to see colorful clothes or items, but just nice not so impressing to make him enter the shop.

As he turned the corner, he found one more new shop. The colorful but classic shoes entered in his view. He stopped. He ordinarily loves sneakers but it did not mean he did not have taste for classic shoes. On the contrary, he had opinions of his own about them. He looked at the shoes in the shopping-window, then walked toward the shop door.

This small shop’s interior was an antique style but not so formal, just made him a little awkward. But soon many shoes on the shelves attracted his attention. He took one of them in his hand, just to see how carefully they were made. Some shoes from mega-brand were not so good in comparison with their name value, he thought, but they which this shop had were just nice pieces.

“If you want, you can try them, Sir.”

A voice reached him from behind. He turned around and found a woman — perhaps at the same age as him — looking at him.

“Yeah, you have 43 European?”

She raised her eyebrow, and he noticed what she wondered.

“Sorry I usually work around the world and sometimes forget where I am.”

She liked his joke and said yes with a nod. She brought a new pair and he tried them. Walking around the shop, and looked in the mirror, he thought it suited him so much.

“You said you work around the world, but you have a good Australian accent.”

“Sure, I was born here. You can’t get rid of it from me so easily.”

He tried another pair and they also matched his taste. He turned his gaze to her and asked.

“Hey, in which pair I look more handsome?”

She burst out laughing.

“I think you look so good with both.”

“Ohhh, you know how to tickle my pride!”

After trying some others pairs, he brought both pairs she recommended first, and she smirked.

“Which brand you deal in this shop?”

“A minor brand, just my friend’s work.”

He raised his eyebrow.

“Great. I sometimes feel mega-brands tell me ‘if you don’t buy this, you are not in fashion any longer you old man!’”

He said in a hoarse tone intentionally and it made her laugh. As she put them in a paper bag, he took it and smiled at her.

“Thank you.”

“I appreciate you like them, Sir. My friend would be glad too.”

He smiled again and leaned forward a little, to whisper in a small voice.

“Not Sir, just call me Dan, please.”

As she showed an offended face, he straightened his back up in a hurry and raised his hand up, in the other arm still holding the paper bag. She folded her arms across her chest, but with a sarcastic smile.

“Sometimes they say you are a little too friendly in a short time, don’t they?”

“Yes, you are right.”

He admitted with a nod.

“That’s my flaw, I know.”

“And I think that’s also your virtue. Thank you for being friendly, Dan, even though you tried in a too short time.”

She smiled, and Dan blinked, then smiled back.

*****

When the door opened, you knew who entered the shop. You couldn’t look at the direction — because you talked with another customer — but you saw his big silhouette and smiled in secret. The customer asked her about shoes for some fifteen minutes, but it did not catch the point, and you already knew what he tried. Sometimes a man thinks if you care about his shoes, kneeling in front of him, it means he could get some chance to seduce you. That’s a typical way of a man thinking, you thought.

“And if I get some dirt on my shoes...”

“Excuse me, Sir. I want to ask this lady about...”

Suddenly a familiar face entered between you two. The customer frowned but soon widened his eyes.

“Wow... Daniel Ricciardo!”

“Hello.”

He smiled and the customer turned around and talked to Dan enthusiastically. You saw he winked to you, and noticed he tried to free you from this annoying man. You left them there, just to breathe deeply. After ten minutes the customer left the shop with Dan’s autograph, and Dan walked to you, who displayed new shoes on the shelves.

“Thanks for your help, Dan.”

“Hard at it, I see, especially when he did not listen to you.”

He shrugged, and you nodded.

“But it’s a part of my job. Hey, you want to see your new ordered shoes?”

“Of course!”

His face lit up with joy and lightly jogged to the shop counter. You took out a box from the cupboard. He laughed as soon as seeing the writing on the box.

“For Dan, from the number one fan of you.”

“He is crazy for you. If you stop coming to this shop, he would abandon his shoes making.”

“Oh, that’s not good, losing such a wonderful piece from the world.”

He opened the box and took out a pair of new shoes. He examined them carefully and mumbled.

“Perfection.”

“He would be glad to hear it. You try them, don’t you?”

He sat on the chair and began to pull off his sneakers. Lacing the new shoes, he stopped his hands, even though he always did it smoothly as much as his driving.

“Where you failed?”

You asked with a smirk and squatted down in front of him. You took the shoelaces in your hands and fixed.

And his hands touched yours, carefully. You looked up, to see him staring at you. You would stand up and brush off his hands, you had to, but no motion you could make. His fingers traveled to your wrists, and grabbing them, delicately, but firmly. He stood up from the chair, to make you stand up too.

“That man, always came?”

You frowned.

“He said he came here several times... and always tried on you?”

You sighed.

“That is a part of my job, unfortunately. Sometimes men misunderstand what it means when a woman kneels down before him.”

“But it does not mean he was allowed to think that way. I... I don’t want you to be bothered by men like him.”

“You did the same thing when you came here for the first time.”

He raised his eyebrow, like offended.

“And I have behaved as a good customer since then, and you blamed me as much as him?”

“No, but, you already know it is...”

“I can’t accept it, you should not get him around you.”

“Don’t act like you are something more than my friend, Dan.”

He looked at you, even gazed at you, your eyes, and after biting his lips lightly — you had to admit it was one of his cute habits — he finally fired the words.

“If I want that ‘more than’?”

You knew there was a tension between you two. You knew that tension was typical one between two of “not so bad I think about you”. But you did not want to consider it and push it forward, because you love the friendship between you two. And he was Daniel Ricciardo. The one everyone can’t help but falling in love, especially when you knew he smiled at you, only at you, with a warm and genuine smile.

He lifted up your hand to his mouth and kissed on it. Tenderly, but not timidly.

“You know, I have waited, to reach my perfect timing. And I don’t want to take some stupid ways to tell you what I want. I WANT YOU. Just only that.”

His low voice ran a chill in your spine and you shuddered. Seeing your reaction, he held you in his arms, and you noticed how hot his body was, as much as you.

“You don’t know every time I get around you, I’m so happy, and excited?”

He leaned a little and looked into your face. His eyes shone so brightly, with intense emotion, and you held your breath.

“Dan.”

You whispered, and he leaned into more. His lips touched yours, gently. You two enjoyed that feeling for a moment, then you came to remember you two were still in the shop.

“Upstairs.”

As you suggested the apartment you live on the second floor, Dan smiled. Grabbing your waist to lead you there, suddenly he turned around and walked toward the door. You almost got panicked, but when he locked the shop door and showed the card “closed” on that, you brushed.

“I don’t want anyone to disturb us, love.”

And he walked hastily toward the stairs, never release you from his arms.

#fanfic #Daniel Ricciardo #one shot