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What Way of Peace?
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Short story by Nancy.
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Disclaimer: Xena Warrior Princess, Joxer the Mighty and Gabrielle the strawberry blonde bard are all characters owned my MCA/Universal studios.This story line was all *MY* idea so if you steal it the faeries, nymphs and muses will cause you great troubles. Im not making any money from this so lets all get comfy and read the frikkin story shall we? }}:)
Rating: PG. Clean as a button.
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What way of light heals open wounds?
And fills the hearts of dread?
What warlords stop to think of love
Or the blood they've shed?
What girl thinks of the flower
She picks in idle strolls?
And what people ask to forgive men
Of old mistakes and taken tolls?
-me.
Joxer gazed dully at the mead before him. He didn't know where
Gabrielle and Xena was. A part of him really didn't care. In
fact, so many parts of him were numb that he didn't know what to feel
anymore. He listed to the drunken rants of farmers in
the background, one stranger in town causing a ruckus. At a glance
he thought the fellow to be some sort of soldier. He didn't
recognise the armour. A voice broke him out of his pondering.
"Hey buddy," growled the barman, "You gonna sit there all day or buy more beer?"
Joxer lifted his eyes to the man with a sloth pace. "Sure, let me finish this one first."
He did in one foul swig. Tossing a dinar before the man he waited for his next mug.
"That's not what I expe- Joxer?"
Joxer turned his head. In the doorway the tall shapely silhouette
of Xena cast a shadow on his pale features. The short
cropped locks of Gabrielle shone in the light as she stood behind the
warrior. He remembered a time when the sight of her
made his heart soar. Now it just plunged him further into the
pits of depression. Another face that denied him, another person
to say no to him. The entrance of the women caused a dirty howl
from the 'soldier' he spotted before, the farmers looking like
they wanted to smack him so he'd shut up. Xena strode to him.
"Hi Xena," he said, not having nearly enough mead to make him slur yet. It was only his first for the day.
"Joxer," she said, as softly as Xena could ever say anything, "You haven't moved on yet?"
He shook his head, "I kinda like this tavern. The mead is good."
"Joxer," Gabrielle said, "You were here a week ago when we passed this way - haven't you got 'Mighty' stuff to do?"
Joxer glanced to Gabrielle, any softness he might have held in the past replaced by a dark glower. He said nothing.
"Well, you sit here Gabrielle," Xena said, stuffing Gabrielle onto the stool next to Joxer, "I'll just get some dinars from Argo."
The tall woman slipped out of the door, Gabrielle left to fill in the gaunt silence.
"So," she said, "What have you been up to?"
Joxer looked to her again, and lifted up the mead.
"You know, it's not going to take away the pain..."
A smile took Joxer's face, it wasn't a nice one, it was grim, dripping with sarcasm, "Sure, but it takes away my conciousness."
Gabrielle sighed. "I know it's hard - I don't think you ever get over the pain..."
He nodded.
"But you have to accept that it was a choice you made. When this happened to me, I couldn't live with how that choice I made tainted me."
Joxer remained silence, gazing ahead, but hearing her soft voice.
For the first time in an age, he felt like she understood
something of him.
"I guess that's why I chose the way of peace..."
Joxer's eyes shut suddenly, a slight anger taking his squint.
"Joxer?"
He stood suddenly, shaking his head.
"Joxer talk to me..."
He withheld a growl, "Ever since you started with this," he made hand
signals, "'Way of Peace' thing, you haven't been the same
person. It's like it's eaten you up!"
Gabrielle looked down, a sigh taking her, "That's because I've stopped hating, stopped-"
Joxer snorted, "You can't stop hating! You can't stop feeling
negative things Gabrielle, and you can't stop feeling regret and
pain! It's a part of who you are!"
The bard said nothing, merely shaking her head slightly, "You don't understand..."
"I understand," he said gruffly, snatching his helmet from the bar,
"You're just trying to escape from this," he pounded his
chestplate with a finger, indicating his heart, "So what if I drink
to escape it - what you're doing is just as bad. Probably
worse."
At that he curled around her from the stool, his feet pounding the wooden
floor as he stormed from the room. He swung past
the form of Xena as she rushed in the door, she glanced at him as he
left.
"What happened?" she gasped.
"Nothing," Gabrielle shook her head, "I think he's just taking things a little hard."
Xena pursed her lips, "Well, I can't stick around. There's some
trouble brewing at the next village - some marauders are
headed that way. I'm just gonna whip over there and help out."
"I want to go with you."
Xena smiled, a more stressed expression than anything, "I think you better stay here - keep Joxer company."
"I don't think he wants my company, Xena."
Xena cocked her head, "Well, just bear with him, he's going through a rough period around now."
"I know," Gabrielle nodded, "I guess it's hard to relate, since I've moved on so much."
Xena held in a glower, smiling in that stressed manner again, "Well, we all learn and grow. Stay here - I mean it!"
Gabrielle sighed, "I don't suppose I have much of a choice."
Xena narrowed her eyes, smiling genuinely this time. Placing a hand on Gabrielle's shoulder, she squeezed it, turning to leave.
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Joxer strode to the fountain, intent on splashing his face with the
cool water. Guilt wracked him, for various actions. Perhaps
he shouldn't have yelled at Gabrielle. Everyone dealt with things
in their own way - this was just hers.
He somehow felt a deep dread about the new changes in the woman he loved...
Loved? Was she the woman he loved? At
times he saw the kind smile, the wicked sense of humour, the little
staff-wielding amazon woman that had stolen his heart. But
some times, when she emersed herself in her new religion with talk
or just a dumb smile that he'd never seen her wear before in
her life, he just felt like she was a shell.
Though he'd never talked to her about it, never brought it up. He was the same old Joxer to her as always... Except today.
Something in him was angry. Terrified. Sickened. Devastated.
The vision of the dead warlord, the blood that seemed to never end,
the cry his soul made as the life seeped out of the man's
eyes... the vision of his proud son.
Joxer's hands dove into the water and pulled up a huge gush of water
that he wanted to shock him out of the deep lurch he felt
in his heart always.
The water dripped away from his hanging features, the invigorating reprise
a brief distraction, the pain becoming him once
again. He glanced up, casting a gaze back to the tavern.
He wasn't sure why he did. Xena lifted herself up onto Argo, and
with swift action, the mare lept suddenly and galloped from the
town in a could of dust. From the dark tavern door, the lithe
form of Gabrielle emerged. Her head turned, perhaps she was scanning
the square to see if he was around. She saw him, and
with a sudden slouch in her stature of relief, she made a quick skip
which relaxed into a sedate walk as she realised he wasn't
going to run from her.
He saw the haphazard figure behind her. He wasn't sure why he
didn't register it as danger. Maybe his mind was numb from
the incomprehensible thought of Gabrielle coming to danger again.
He sat up, his senses perking, as Gabrielle turned to look at the man.
The man, with a blur of a leer, lumbered forward to catch
Gabrielle in his arms. Whilst a hand dove into her satchel, she
spun around, and pulling out her little hand-held supply of some
sort of powder, she blew it in the man's direction. He stumbled,
rubbing his eyes, and with a growl yanked out his sword and
swung.
Joxer leapt to his feet, bounding across the square.
Gabrielle snapped shut the tiny case, seeing her defense failed, and
spun about to run. Her face went pale as the cold steel
sank into the flesh of her thigh as if it were a soft cheese.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
Joxer bound, his feet flying over the dirt, his sword in the air, Gabrielle's eyes filled with fear.
The man, which on closer inspection turned out to be the 'soldier', stepped back, his sword ready.
"Joxer NO! Don't hurt him!"
Joxer clenched his teeth, eyes to the brim with rage. He held the sword tight in his hand, still raised high.
"Get OUT OF HERE!" he cried, the soldier, seeing the unbridled anger, nodding quickly and spinning on his heel.
He didn't care where the coward went, on looking at his sword he threw it as far as he could.
"Help me..."
He knelt down beside Gabrielle, "I'm sorry," he whispered.
"It's not your fault," she said, watching him cut at his leather armour
with a short dagger. Taking a length he wrapped it around
the top of her thigh, stopping the blood.
"I know," he said, "I'm sorry that this situation could have been avoided."
Gabrielle frowned, "What are you saying?"
He glared at her softly, with all the care he had, "You won't survive
Gabrielle. This-" He grabbed the compact from her hand,
"Isn't enough. If you don't use this" he lifted a fisted hand,
"You're gonna die."
"That can end Joxer," she said, "You have to end the cycle of hate..."
Joxer shook his head as he stood, "You can't change the world if you're dead Gabrielle."
With that he turned, racing towards the town healer's hut.
Gabrielle watched his form grow smaller. Glancing down into the
dust, she saw the discarded sword. Pulling herself along the
ground, she picked it up.
It's blade had long been cleaned of any remnants of voilence, polished
with a feverish care. But on the hilt, a crusted scarlet
spot remained.
She tossed the sword away from her, gripping her compact to her chest.
Laying on her back, her head growing dizzy, she gazed at the light blue
sky, blanched by the blazing Grecian sun. She called
for peace within her, called that maybe Joxer was wrong. She
yearned for that floating airiness that had been enveloping her so
much of late.
The only thing that bombarded her senses was the raging fire and clashing pain of the deep gouge in her thigh.
Glancing to her compact once more, a tear cascaded down the round of her cheek.
Why hadn't it worked that time? It worked before... Maybe
if she stepped back, maybe if she just ran instead - maybe if she
just had her staff with her...
She shook her head. She couldn't think that way. Glancing
to the little supply of sharp dust she sobbed, the sickening pain of
betrayal rife within her.
Why did she feel that way? Why? Why did the one way she found peace in in all that pain and anguish fail her in this moment?
Her hand lifted in the air, and with resign, she let it drop to her side, her heart beating with waves of defeat.
She turned her eyes from the blazing sky, closing them, feeling a sleepiness envelope her.
"I'm here Gabby," came a voice, "Hang in there."
She felt herself get lifted from the ground, a familiar hand gripping
her close to a body. A springy support took her body, and
opening her eyes she saw she was on a stretcher, supported by a healer
and his apprentice. Joxer was next to her.
"Joxer..." she breathed, lifting her hand.
He nodded, and kneeling down, he picked up her compact, handing it to
her. She glanced at it in her hand, shaking her head
slighty with despair. Before she could say anything, the
healers trudged forward towards their abode.
Joxer watched them take her, her green pools gazing at him with something
that caused a great numbness within him. She
didn't want the compact? This student of the way of peace?
Glancing down, his sword called for him. He bent down, picking it
up.
For so long it had been a symbol to him, rather than a weapon, or anything
useful. It had been virgin of bloodshed in anger,
and today, it nearly became of use again. He squeezed his eyes
shut, a deep sob creeping up his throat. Falling to his knees,
he took the sword, clutching it to his chest, and he whispered.
"Thank you."
He didn't know who he said thank you to, but he knew why. He knew
that today, he didn't use it. Today, he stopped killing.
Glancing to the small shape of the healers carting Gabrielle, he wondered.
Perhaps he should thank her.
He pulled himself to his feet, sheathing his sword, and with a heavy step, he followed the healers on their way to the hut.
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