DISCLAIMERS AND WARNINGS: This site and its author have no connection whatsoever with the actual show Xena: Warrior Princess. That show and all its characters are the property of its creators and the appropriate licensed agencies. This site is run for fun by a fan, and no profit is made from it. Gods willing, there is nothing here to sue me over.

This site is subtext friendly, and yes, some of the stories may contain graphic descriptions of sex between two women. Some of the stories may also contain graphic descriptions of sex between men and women. There may also be a certain degree of violence in some of the stories. They may contain all sorts of things. I won't know for sure until they have been written after all. In any event, if this type of content offends you, or if you are under the age of 18, or if this is illegal where you live, please go away.

SPECIFIC TO THIS STORY: The Characters Xena and Gabrielle belong to RenPics et al. I make no claim to their creation. Original characters and situations are mine and no fault of the PTB's. Certain events in the actual canon timeline, for example the Twilight of the Gods bit, Callisto the good, and other events in Season Five, did not happen in this timeline. Major Warning for Violence Later in the story, small degree of het content (not our girls of course). Not exactly my usual type of story... darker overtones... but still Uber, more or less.

OUT OF THE SHADOWS

CHAPTER THREE

Kayl turned the torch over in her hands, enjoying the solid heft of it. Fire had always held a dark attraction for her, an unholy amalgam of both repulsion and fascination. Just the sight of an open flame caused a stirring inside her, setting her stomach to fluttering. Using it as a weapon, knowing it was Magnus's preferred method of execution, would certainly spice things up a bit.

Humming to herself, she began thinking over her plan, checking it for flaws. Every possibility must be accounted for, there would be no second chances. She'd have to time it perfectly if she wanted to make it through to Magnus. One false move and she'd be dead. The thought brought a feral grin to her lips. Barring unforeseen complications, it wasn't a serious concern. She wouldn't be the one dying, not if she could help it. She'd survived far too much to let go now.

…When the madness came at last, Kayl had embraced it, drawn the darkness inside cherishing it like a lover. Freed at last from debasing servitude, she would die before they forced her down again.

Her first memories were of Liam, the man who sold her to the enclave at the age of eight. He had owned her for three years, training her ruthlessly to comply with his every whim. When she resisted him he had beaten her viciously with his heavy leather belt. She still bore the scars the buckle had left on her back. In the end, he had had his way; invading all her private places at will, leaving her without the slightest shred of dignity.

From a tender age, she had endured horror beyond comprehension. Her only refuge had been in withdrawal, a determined retreat from reality. First Liam, and then those in the enclave had used her as a toy, a soul-less plaything to be passed from one brutal man to the next. She had borne the same rough treatment well into adolescence before something in her snapped.

For several months, she killed anyone who touched her. At first, she had only struck out in desperation, too strung out to care if they killed her. She only knew she couldn't bear them to have her again, to treat her as property, a thing with no feelings. They were coming less often now. Perhaps they had realized that she would only keep killing; perhaps she had killed all those seeking revenge. She didn't really care.

At first she had been relieved, now she was merely bored. Killing was becoming mundane and reflexive. It was time she started planning. Sitting there waiting for them to come wasn't an answer; sooner or later they'd kill her. Somehow she had to stop them, find a way to survive. She was as cunning in her own way as they were, and her madness made her far more dangerous. It was time she went after them on her own, taking them down one at a time.

That was when she'd decided to go after Liam.

Xena was decidedly pissed. She'd run down the stairs after Gwyn, but the girl had vanished without a trace. It was as if she'd never been there. The street outside was empty, devoid of life. The warrior found this disappearance more than a little disturbing. It reminded her of her early days, the days when she and Gabrielle had been forced to cope with the capricious whims of the Gods.

What the hell had she meant, 'know I am with you'? Those had been her last words before leaving. They'd touched a chord of familiarity somehow. It wasn't the words themselves, but the emotion she had sensed behind them. It was as if the past was reaching for her, trying to grasp her again, to strangle her with grief.

Lost in thought, she paced the confines of the small room like a caged tiger. What was it about this girl? Were the Gods tormenting her again? Trying to stop her from her self appointed task? Not that they would deflect her from her course. She had pledged to Gabrielle even in death. All these centuries she had held to that pledge, making a life out of fighting for the Light. The only meaning left in her life was tied up in her pledge to the bard, to the differences they had sworn to make in the world. She couldn't let a little slip like Gwyn change that, she just couldn't.

The brick wall of the old building was rough and cold against her back. Gwyn was beginning to wish that she'd taken time to change before she'd come outside. Her clothing was hanging in tatters, practically destroyed by the Ashers. It no longer offered any protection from the weather.

She could see the warrior pacing restlessly in her room. Her shadowy form was visible against the upstairs window. The street out front was empty, she hadn't seen a car in over an hour and the building at her back appeared to be deserted, a storefront closed for the day. Perhaps if she stayed well hidden in the shadow, she could manage to change without leaving her post.

She didn't dare lose sight of Xena now, it had taken her too long to find her. Just the thought of losing her set up a sick feeling in her heart. It was a sensation that she refused to examine too closely.

Setting down the torch carefully, Kayl began sorting through her weapons. After testing the edge on them, she tucked two thin blades into the tops of her soft leather boots. A few moments consideration brought the selection of two lengths of spiked chain. Coiling them carefully, she snapped them onto a hook on the belt that hung low on her narrow hips. The belt itself had a sharp blade in the back of the heavy silver buckle.

She'd had that belt a long time; the leather was growing quite thin in places. She'd have to replace the leather soon or she'd lose the buckle. She'd hate to have to find another, this one held a deep symbolism for her. Besides, she thought smugly, the buckle made an excellent branding iron. The eagle on it burned nice and deep.

One hand caressing the buckle, she stared blindly into space. Even though it had been ten years, she still remembered the day she had taken it from Liam.

…He hadn't been hard to find. A true Alpha, he was arrogant, confident that no one could hurt him. No one would dare. Certainly not a half-starved fifteen year old. She'd showed him the error of his ways in short order. Her only regret was the speed of his death.

She'd come up behind him, catching him completely unaware. He'd nearly jumped out of his skin when she spoke. He'd turned in that instant, his belt snaking from his hand like a whip. She'd been ready for him though, catching the leather strap behind the buckle and jerking it from his grasp. Turning it on him in the same moment, she had given him a healthy dose of his own bitter medicine.

She'd beaten him to the ground with his own weapon before tossing it negligently to the ground. Unnoticed, the buckle had landed in the embers of his dying campfire. As he knelt there swaying helplessly, dripping blood from myriad gashes, she had known a brief flash of remorse. It was the last bit of compassion she'd ever felt. Squashing it brutally, she'd stabbed him repeatedly with a long knife.

Long after he had ceased to breathe, she had continued to vent her rage on his corpse. As her anger finally abated, she had taken his superheated buckle from the fire and branded him with it. It was her last flagrant act of disrespect. The sight of the eagle seared onto his cheek caused her such great satisfaction that she had branded every kill she had made since in that same manner.

Oh yes, she still remembered. It was the day she had realized that her only route to survival was to make it to the head of the pack. She had been steadily sleeping her way up through the Alphas ever since. Now, at last, she had the means to get to Magnus. She was certain the information she carried was enough to keep her at his side. Then she'd never have to be afraid again.

Gwyn huddled in the open doorway, miserably watching the wet street. The rain had come down without warning. It drenched everything in mere seconds, before sweeping out across the City. She had managed to struggle into a pair of loose fitting grey jeans and a green sweatshirt without losing sight of the window, but she was still much too cold. Luckily, there had been little traffic on the road to give her cause to worry about being seen.

At least she was dry, if not warm. The warrior was still moving around in the upstairs room, she'd only come out once just after Gwyn had left. It was beginning to look as if she wasn't going anywhere, which meant Gwyn was going to be stuck in a damp, cold doorway all night. Cursing under her breath, she pulled a thin blanket from her bag and huddled under its folds.

…She'd survived more deaths than any mortal had a right to. Her life had been one impossible escape after another. The great warrior princess with the penchant for survival, that was her. She had no right to expect another miracle. This time it was over, she knew it to the core of her soul. Hades would not let her go again.

She hung in limbo, wrapped in a grey and formless void, awaiting judgment. She had no doubt what that judgment would be. She was Tartarus bound, the blackness of her past was too great to be expunged by a few good deeds.

Gabrielle had never accepted that, too blinded by love to see the truth, but Xena knew. It made this waiting seem interminable, she'd far rather just get it over with. Eternal torment would be preferable to hanging there, knowing the bard was trying vainly to save her. Even here, she could feel her grief.

Sudden pain wracked her body. Her heart pounded crazily, threatening to break through her ribcage. Her breath stabbed through her lungs with enough force to make her cry out. What in the name of Zeus?

"Xena. Come on Xena, you can do it. Breathe damn you!" Gabrielle's voice was desperate, hoarse. She sounded as if she had been crying for hours.

Xena opened her eyes with difficulty, then immediately closed them tightly against the glare of the sun. Alive! As the racing of her heart slowed, she knew an instant's panic. There was an uncanny feeling of change, a peculiar sense of permanence. Something wasn't right, her own body felt strange, foreign to her. "Gabrielle," her voice came out as a rusty croak, "What have you done?"

Mocking laughter echoed through the air. Hades! "We made a little deal, Princess."

She struggled to sit, finally making it with Gabrielle's help. Looking at the bard's tear streaked countenance, she knew the deal had not been an easy one. "Why?" It was only one word, but it held a wealth of meaning.

The bard wouldn't meet her eyes. She looked fixedly at the ground for several moments before she finally spoke in an agonized whisper. "I love you Xena. I can't keep watching you die."

"How touching. Will she feel the same, do you think, as she ages and you stay young and supple? Or will she someday rue this bargain?" Hades voice echoed through the trees with a finality that settled in Xena's bones like a curse. Ares' half mortal daughter was mortal no longer…

Shaking off the shadows of the past, Xena stretched with the bone-popping intensity of a cat. Enough. What ifs were not going to change things. They never did. It was past time she got busy, got on with her job.

Kneeling by the bed, she reached under and slid out a shallow box. She would leave nothing behind this time, nothing that she wanted to keep anyway. Inside the box, nestled among the oiled leather coils of her whip lay a gleamingly sharp circlet of metal and a small jeweler's case. Lifting out the whip and the chakram, she clipped them into place on her belt.

The jeweler's case, she pocketed unopened. She didn't need to look to know what it contained. She still remembered the day Gabrielle had given it to her, half of a smooth stone heart on a silver chain. Its mate had hung around the bard's neck. They had pledged each other with them, high atop a lonely cliff. "Two hearts that beat as one, bound by love to be together." She could hear the words as clearly as if they had just been spoken.

She had known even then that when the bard died she would be forced to go on without her. The moment had been bittersweet, tainted by that knowledge. Snarling, Xena set about gathering the rest of her belongings, all the while damning the Fates. First they had taken Gabrielle. Now they had woven Gwyn into her path, threatening the peace she had made in forgetfulness.

As she strapped her sword in place, she was struck by an impulse she didn't understand. Taking the box from her pocket, she clasped the silver chain around her neck. For the first time in two centuries, Gabrielle's heart hung where it belonged. There was a rightness to it that had been missing for years.

Shrugging into her duster, she looked the room over one last time. There was little evidence of her presence left. Good. When she finished her business in the Burnouts, there would be no point in returning.

Text & Original Images (c) M.C. Sak 2000

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