Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Most of the survivors cut down from the crosses left as soon as they could travel, raceway from the river on centaurs’ broad backs. Everyone knew what Xena the Conqueror had done to the Northern Amazons. No one wanted to still be around when her watch fell on the Telaquire tribe.

Except the bard. She healed—or at least her arms and wrists did—but she never asked about leaving. She had her bedroll dragged out into the sun, and told stories to the Amazon children, her red-gold hair gleaming in the sun. She told them stories of a different kind of warrior princess to the Conquerer, a woman who travelled with a heart’s companion, and fought for the weak instead of enslaving them.

After some days, some of the adult women began to listen, as well. Even Tiresias listened. Only Ephiny held herself apart, waiting for the bard to be sent home.

“She has the heart of an Amazon, that one,” Melosa said, when Ephiny questioned the girl’s continuing presence.

“Much good an Amazon heart does a cripple who cannot fight,” Ephiny said.

Melosa’s eyes rested on her a long moment, and Ephiny felt the prickle of shame on her cheeks. “There are other ways to fight than with weapons,” the Queen said eventually. “I thought you clever enough to know that. Gabrielle of Potedia’s words have inspired hope and rebellion; that is why Xena knows her to be dangerous.”

“Then every day we keep her, we risk Xena’s wrath.”

“Are you afraid?”

“No!” Ephiny flushed with anger. “I am prepared to die, every day of my life. But we should not risk the lives of our young women and children recklessly in the name of the week—“

“Xena has reason enough to destroy us already, if she chose. She has cut a long enough swathe of blood through the Tribes. But as long as we camp close to the Centaur kinrah, we are safe.”

Ephiny bit her lip to stop herself asking, once more, why this was true. Melosa never entertained questions on the subject. Perhaps, once upon a time, she had told Tiresias; but neither confided in Ephiny.

“Must we cower behind a horse’s hocks forever?”

“You have not been so opposed to the centaurs forever, Melosa said, gently. “Are you so eager to leave your son behind?”

Ephiny clenched her fists, anger that made no sense even to herself pounding in her breast.

“Talk to Gabrielle,” said Melosa. “You might learn something.”

“Is that an order, my Queen?”

“It is my loving advice,” Melosa said, and Ephiny knew it came to much the same thing.

“Have you come for a story?” Gabrielle’s hair was soft as red-gold thistledown around her face and on her shoulders, and her eyes were soft and innocent as new leaves. A pretty woman born to spend her girlhood in her mother’s kitchen and marry a nice village lad, not an Amazon.

“If you like,” Ephiny said ungraciously. She would not, she could not tell Gabrielle that she was supposed to learn from her, as if Melosa thought some village girl wiser than her own daughter’s best-beloved companion in arms.

Gabrielle turned her head toward Ephiny and smiled. She smiled in stages, first the corner of her lips turning up, and then her eyes, until finally her lips parted over her teeth and her whole face bloomed into animation. Ephiny shoved her hands on her hips and looked away from that slow-blossoming smile.

“I do like. I love to tell stories. In fact, you can hardly shut me up once I get going—“

“Xena tried hard enough to shut you up.”

The smile faded, and with it Gabrielle’s glow. Ephiny didn’t know if she was relieved, or disappointed. She settled for guilty, as Gabrielle glanced down at her shattered knees. It was no easier to look at than her smile.

“It didn’t work,” Gabrielle said, with an attempt at courage. “I’m still talking.”

“Tell me your story,” Ephiny said, hurriedly.

Gabrielle fixed her gaze over the trees. “I sing of a people who cried out in the need, for a hero, for a warrior, for a princess—“

Somehow, Ephiny don’t want to hear this tale. “You are arrogant enough to claim your songs for yourself? You do not ask the Muses or Gods to speak through you?”

“Why should I?” Gabrielle asked, and now her soft voice was harder. “What do the gods care for us? Ares stands beside Xena, and not one of his siblings cares enough to lift their hand for the people of Greece, of Rome, of Egypt, of Chi’in…”

“Artemis is with the Amazon sisters. She gives us strength and power, and above all things our sisterhood.”

“Does she?” Gabrielle’s voice was very quiet. “Well, then. Let me tell you a different story. I sing of a golden apple, of three goddesses, of Aphrodite, Athena and Artemis, who asked a man called Iolaus to judge which of them had the most perfect beauty…”

Ephiny heard her out, somehow, digging her fingernails into her arms so deeply they left red circles. When Gabrielle had finished, she burst out, “Are you saying that while Amazons fight and suffer and die, Artemis only cares if some man on a beach thinks she’s hot?”

“She’s a goddess,” Gabrielle said, flatly. “Her vanity is everything.”

“Your story is a lie.”

“No. Whether it happens or not, every one of my stories is the truth,” Gabrielle said. “I’ve been chosen to tell them.”

“You lie,” Ephiny said, and strode off.

Chapter Text

Toddler tantrums were so much the worse when a child had hooves. An amazon, Ephiny told herself, could deal with any man, even her own son.

Ephiny eventually managed to get the woollen ball out of Xenan’s death grip and return it to Eponin’s daughter. Then she managed to pin both pairs of Xenan’s legs together and carry him, struggling and kicking, back towards their tent.

“I can hold you just as long as it takes to quiet down, kid.” She could feel the bruises on her arms from his kicking. “Such a little fighter.”

“You sound more proud than upset!” There was laughter in Gabrielle’s voice.

Ephiny couldn’t repress a smirk. “He is a strong little warrior. Xenan, stop!” She almost lost her balance from the little centaur’s frenetic kicking.

“Little one, would you like me to tell you a story?” Xenna immediately froze. “Then stop kicking and listen.”

A few moments later, Xenan was curled up beside Gabrielle’s bedroll, docile and ready to be entranced. Ephiny lingered too, a little unwillingly. She could feel the blush of shame on her cheeks, that she had struggled to subdue her son and Gabrielle could quieten him with just words. It left her at a disadvantage, somehow. She stood feet planted strongly apart, hands crossed under her breasts.

She wished Gabrielle wasn’t such a nosy, interfering, chattering girl.

Perhaps out of respect for Ephiny, there were no tales of warrior princesses or goddesses. Instead she told a ridiculous story of a dancing contest, and of a male warrior trying to help a clumsy village girl to win. Xenan perhaps didn’t understand much of it, but Gabrielle’s expressive hands and voice had him giggling, and once or twice Ephiny found her lips twitching as well.

When Xenan had promised not to steal the other children’s toys anymore and had run off on his four legs, Ephiny said, “How does that tale foster strength against the Conquerer?”

“Teaching people to be kind to others? To persist and never give up, even when ridiculed? I don’t know. Does every story have to have a reason, beyond making a child smile?”

“It’s your art, not mine.” Ephiny hesitated, then added grudgingly, “Thank you for calming my son.”

“He’s your son?” Gabrielle’s green eyes widened. “But—how?” Her gaze drifted to the scar across Ephiny’s stomach. “Oh. Of course. But—still—how—?”

She didn’t seem to be able to form the words, and her cheeks were burning. It made Ephiny chuckle.

“Love will find a way.”

“Oh. Oh, of course. And there are no centaur women—I’m stupid. Sorry, sorry. I thought—oh. I mean Amazons. People always say that you, um— Oh! I don’t meant say—“

Ephiny took pity on her, perhaps because she herself was laughing.

“That we prefer women as lovers?”

“Yes!” The girl seems terribly relieved to have it out. “I mean, there are no men in the camp. Only little boys.”

“When the boys reach a certain age, they are given to their fathers. My Xenan will be a prince in the tribe of the centaurs by the river.”

“Oh.” Gabrielle seemed to forget her own discomfiture, her eyes swimming with pity. “How terribly sad.”

Ephiny clenched her fingers, trying to ignore the waves of anguish and fear that were agreeing with Gabrielle, the secret thoughts in the night of fleeing, of doing anything to keep her baby with her. “It is the way of things. Amazons commit to other women, our sisters. There have to be sacrifices.”

“But, Ephiny—“

“Yes.”

“What?”

“Many of us prefer women as lovers.”

She was successful in pushing the conversation off its painful track. Gabrielle’s cheeks were still rosy, but her expression had changed. Ephiny pushed the new subject. “Male lovers can never be a part of the tribe. A sister Amazon, though, can be a lifelong companion, a lover you never have to be parted from except through death, and will reunite with in Artemis’ hunting grounds. It is different.”

“So—do you? But you fell in love with a centaur?”

“Briefly.” Ephiny grinned at her. “But when I settle down, it will be with—“

“Princess Tiresias?” The girl’s eyes were wide, eager for gossip.

Ephiny’s grin widened. “Half the luck. And half the tribe would kill me out of jealousy. No, I haven’t yet found a woman, or women, I could truly love as more than a sister, and who feels the same about me.”

“Oh.” Gabrielle was quiet for a moment, looking across the camp, at the playing children, at the women laughing and working together. Perhaps she was wondering which was in love with another

“Ephiny, if you hate Xena so much, why did you name your son after him?”

“It’s a strong name.” Not a good answer, but Ephiny didn’t really have one, except that it had felt right when she looked on his red, wrinkled face by the first time. “I need to rest, I’m on night watch. Thank you for the tale for my son.”

“Thank you for listening, and for answering my questions.”

Ephiny nodded once, sharply, and strode away. She didn’t look back at the girl confined to her bedroll.

After that, Ephiny sometimes found herself listening to Gabrielle’s tales. She wasn’t one of the ones asking eager questions. She lingered on the outskirts, as Xenan galloped around on his spindly baby legs,.

One morning he squalled, and Ephiny absent-mindedly pulled up her top to offer him her breast. She saw Gabrielle’s eyes widen, but then the girl returned to her story, as Ephiny stroked her son’s hair and flanks.

Afterwards, she confronted Gabrielle. “Do women of your village not nurse their children?”

“What? Oh, no, it wasn’t that. It’s just—well, you’re so tough, and you’ve got all this muscles, and you just glower all the time, and then that little centaur boy—you’re nice. I mean, it was nice. Like normal girl— I mean, it was nice.” The chattering voice faded a little. Gabrielle was very red.

“Despite the glower?”

“You do glower a bit. Not that it isn’t attractive, I mean, it’s quite a nice scowl, as scowls go.“

Ephiny laughed. “I won’t make you dig yourself any deeper.” She left, but as she did, she flicked one red-gold lock of Gabrielle’s hair as she went, and the girl gave her that sunshine-bright smile.

Nice. It was’t a word she usually applied to herself.

Chapter Text

Raiders struck that night. A rare enough occurrence, especially within three day’s ride of the Conquerer’s current camp. She was known to be hard on raiders who didn’t carry her shield, and few people were desperate enough to want to join the rows of crucified bodies, even without risking the wrath of the alliance between the centaurs and the Telaquire Amazons.

Desperate or not, strike they did.

Ephiny whistled a warning to her sisters, then fell into battle by their side. Runners left for the centaurs, and Ephiny fought, in chaos and confusion.

The darkness obscured the fight, yet it was not enough to account for Ephiny’s confusion. Her instincts screamed to her that something was wrong. The raiders were unusually well-equipped and trained, but there were few, and they seemed strangely adverse to risking their own lives. They melted back into the forest like ghosts, almost as if—

Ephiny knocked a man down with fists and shoulders, and raced to Gabrielle’s tent. The bard was unconscious, and being hauled by two men, with no thought for her legs. Ephiny had no thought but to save her.

After she had tossed them out of the tent, she stood in guard, over Gabrielle. As she had thought, the fighting died away once the centaurs arrived and it would have become clear that Gabrielle wasn’t going to be kidnapped any time soon. There were two more attempts to breach the tent, but the power of anger steadied and strengthened her arm.

Once it was peaceful, she called for a torch, and shone in on the girl’s face. Grey as dust, her lips blue. Ephiny suspected Gabrielle had passed out from the pain from her poor crushed legs. She cursed them in every way she knew how. She was tempted to call for the healers, but they would be busy enough after the battle. Gabrielle was unconscious, not immediately suffering.

Ephiny crouched in the corner and kept watch, until the bard’s eyes fluttered.

“Water?” She filled a cup and brought it to Gabrielle’s lips. When Gabrielle had taken a few sips, Ephiny found sour wine and mixed it with the water.

“Thank you.” Gabrielle closed her eyes, and Ephiny thought she had fainted again, until she spoke. “They came for me.”

“You’re all right,” Ephiny said curtly.

“No. I mean, that’s why they came to the camp. For me. I put you all in danger—“

Ephiny didn’t bother to argue. “You’re our guest. It’s our job to keep you safe.”

“They were Xena’s men.”

“I guessed that. Guess she did’t have the guts to attack us directly.” It felt wrong, even as she said it, but the evidence was clear. Xena did not want to attack the twin camps directly.

Gabrielle shuddered. “I need to leave. As long as I’m here, I’ll draw her wrath on you.”

It was the same argument Ephiny had given Queen Melosa. She should have agreed. Instead, she said: “You’re safer with us. We’ll protect you.”

“I don’t want Amazons to die for me! I’m a stranger—“

“Melees said you have the heart of an Amazon.”

“Really?” Gabrielle’s eyes widened. “Well, I was thought pretty brave back in Potedia, and I use dot look great in a short skirt.” She giggled a little, then pursed her lips. “Not any more. I can’t even defend myself.”

Ephiny stared at her, assessing. “You have no strength in your lower legs and no movement, too. We could make up with that with reach, a little. Of course, you won’t have your lower body, but the lever effect of a staff… I’ll talk to Eponine about your training tomorrow. You could do with some exercise, in any case. You have arms like a starving waif.”

There was no way Gabrielle could actually defend herself against a full attack, and they both knew it. Nevertheless, Gabrielle bent her red-gold head.

“Thank you.” They both knew it was for more than the offer of staff training.

“She’s safe enough during the day, out in the camp, but alone in her tent at night, is different.

“I agree that it is unsafe to continue to let her sleep alone,” Melosa said. She smiled. “Thank you for the offer, Ephiny.”

“The offer? But—“

“I understand that you’ve undertaken to take on her training. It would make sense for you to sleep by her as well.” The smile sweetened. “Beside, it is not good to sleep alone too much.”

“I have Xenan!”

“He will be good company for Gabrielle, also.” The Queen’s smile was firm now, not sweer at all.

Ephiny turned to leave.

“Wait, sister. Have you learned from Gabrielle yet?”

“I think so. But I don’t know what.”

“Perhaps that is the next lesson.”

Melosa laughed, and Ephiny went back to prepare for Gabrielle's presence in the tent.

Chapter Text

“Why does Xena want you so much?” Ephiny asked the roof of the tent, apropos of nothing. “Are your little stories really that powerful?”

They had been sharing a tent from one new moon to another, now. No more attacks had happened. Ephiny had become used to the new state of affairs, even as Gabrielle’s arms had hardened with muscle from her new training. She worked hard, and yet always had a smile for Ephiny and a hug of thanks for Ephiny, and endless energy to play with Xenan. And to talk.

Ephiny didn’t know how she had ever dealt with silence. She had used to like it. It seemed such a lonely thing, these days.

“ I don’t know.” There was something odd in Gabrielle’s voice. Ephiny rolled over to face her. Xena protested in his sleep and kicked her, with one painful hoof.

“Ouch! Gabrielle, if you know something, you must tell me. The evil of the Conquereor—“

“She’s not evil. Not deep inside.” Gabrielle’s voice was steady. “She looked into my eyes, Ephiny. I know.”

“And then she had you crucified!”

“She was scared.”

“How can you say that? The crosses line the road wherever she goes—“

“She was crucified herself. In Rome. Her legs smashed, like mine.”

“And now she visits it on everyone who gets in her way! Gabrielle—sweet, stupid, Gabrielle, other Amazons have seen good in her. They befriended her, taught her, wanted to take her as a sister. She destroyed them!”

“I can’t help it. And I can’t explain. It was like—like I recognised her. I always knew I had a destiny, Ephiny. When I looked in her eyes, I knew my destiny was to save her.”

“You will destroy us all because you fell in love at first sight with a murderer?”

“It’s not like that! Ephiny…”

Ephiny rolled over and clutched Xenan’s sleeping form to herself. He wriggled a little in protest, and fell back to sleep. She buried her face in his hair, aching with betrayal and—well, she might as well admit it to herself. Jealousy.

“Ephiny, please.”

Ephiny ignored her, and eventually Gabrielle’s breath steadied into sleep.

“It’s not her fault, you know.”

The girl perched on the end of the bedroom examined her perfect fingernails. Golden hair spoiled over her shoulders, shell-pink robes covering little of her voluptuous body, even for an Amazon, and somehow Ephiny saw the colours clearly even in the darkness.

“It’s not my fault, either. I mean, I admit I thought it would be funny to give Xena a bit of the one-two pow. Thought it might teach her a lesson if she fell head over heels for one of her victims. How I was I to know she’d crucify her anyway? Chick’s got issues.” She stretched like a cat. “Oh, don’t look so disappointed. Thought it would be my sister who would appear to you, did she? Sorry, girl, she’s busy.” The goddess got up and looked down into Gabrielle’s sleeping face “Why does Gabby dislike the gods so much? I didn’t do anything to her.”

“You made her fall in love with a mass murderer!”

“Oh, that was nothing to do with me. Go yell at the Fates about it. You, on the other hand…”

“Do you think this is funny, playing with our lives like this?”

The goddess shrugged. “Gotcha. Besides, big bro’s been forgetting alllll about keeping the balance between love and war. Dude can’t have his precious little Xena all to himself. Oh, don’t glare at me like that. I have no intention of breaking up your little family. But when the time comes, you might have to share a bit. You’re a big girl, you can do it.” She wriggled her fingers. “Ta-ta.”

The next thing Ephiny knew, the dawn watch was being called, and the dream still hung heavy over her.

“Ephiny?” Gabrielle’s voice trembled.

Ephiny looked at her. Mussed up hair, sleep at the corner of her eyes and clinging to one eyelash. She rolled over and dropped a kiss on Gabrielle’s cheek before going for water.

It was the first time she had ever kissed Gabrielle. Her cheek had been smooth, and soft. Ephiny’s lips burned, quite without logical reason.

Ephiny finished her watch and went to sit with Gabrielle. She wasn’t telling stories this time, but peeling onions with a sharp knife. She gave Ephiny a lop-sided smile.

“Thought I’d help out, I used to be quite a decent cook. I would have made some farmer a good wife. It’s not what I wanted, though.”

“What did you want?”

“To see the world. Tell stories. Get into trouble. Help people.”

“You have the heart of an Amazon,” Ephiny said, remembering.

“Perhaps I would have been better off staying at home and getting married.” There were tears in Gabrielle’s sweet eyes. “I don’t really mean that. Or maybe I do. I see you with Xenan, and I will never have that!”

“There’s no reason. Your legs will not walk again, but you’re not hurt in your childbearing parts.”

“Who would want me now? I can’t run a household or farm. I can barely even cook!”

“You deserve someone who wants you, not for the work you can do, but for your heart! For your stories, and your smile, and the way you laugh, and the adorably annoying way you never, ever shut up!“

Ephiny realised that, actually, Gabrielle wasn’t talking now. She was raising a trembling hand, smoking it through Ephiny’s golden curls. A hand smelling of raw onions. Ephiny’s hair was gong to stink.

Ephiny gently took the knife from Gabriells’ other hand, and laid it down. Then she leaned in and kissed her.

“Do you want me, then?” Gabrielle whispered against her lips.

“Damn right. No one is breaking up our family,” Ephiny said, realising as she did it that she meant Xenan as well. She wasn’t giving up either of them. Not one person she loved.

She could learn to share.

“I love you,” Gabrielle said, seriously, her eyes still shining with tears.

“I love you too, you idiot chatterbox.” Ephiny gathered her up, careful of her legs, and carried her gently to the tent.

“I can’t stay with the Amazons forever. There’s things I have to do.”

“I know.”

“You’ll come with me?” Gabrielle’s voice was fragile, vulnerable.

“Where to?”

“Chi’in, where Xena found her honour guard. I’ve heard stories of a woman there that Xena loved, Lao Ma…”

“I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth, and help you do whatever you need to, but I won’t ever give you up.” She laid Gabrielle down on the bedroll, and lay beside her, propped on one elbow, looking down into her face, letting her hand travel up from the girl’s stomach to cup the underside of one small breast.

Gabrielle shivered. “Please don’t.”

“I’m sorry, I thought you wanted—“

“Oh, I don’t mean stop that. I mean—please don’t give me up. Ever. I need you. And Xenan. I never thought I’d find a family among the Amazons, but I love you, Ephiny.”

Gabrielle’s kiss was fierce and sweet, and her hands tangled in Ephiny’s hair, and somewhere in her mouth and her hands, Ephiny lost herself.

She thought she heard a giggle, tinkling like glass, from the corner, but she ignored it. The heart of an Amazon was a fierce and loving thing, and even Aphrodite couldn’t truly govern where it was given.

It was some months after when Gabrielle, her legs carefully splinted, was lifted in Ephiny’s hands and placed on the horse. Ephiny swung up on her own steed, behind her, and tried to ignore her own impulse to cry.

Gabrielle, of course, noticed. Her hand stole onto Ephiny’s thigh.

“Our son will be safe with the centaurs. And we will return when we’ve learned what we need to. I promise.”

“I know.”

“I love you, Ephiny.”

“I love you, too. Now stop chattering and let’s go!”

They kicked their horses into a walk, and rode off. To the East, to Xena the Conqueror’s past. To their future. Ephiny hardly cared what it meant, how the love between them tied into the greater story of Xena. She had never cared so much for greater fates, after all. As long as Gabrielle was by her side, well, her life would never be dull. Or lonely.

Or quiet.

“I sing of an Amazon with golden curls, mother of a centaur prince, wife of a bard—“

“Oh, shut up.” But Ephiny was grinning as the sunshine fell on her face, and on Gabrielle’s red-gold hair.