Ancient Greece (Maybe), Who Really Knows When -- Okay, Okay, It's Tuesday Fandom Time
Ares's portal had deposited Gabrielle in some kind of stone chamber, completely dark save for one beam of light coming straight down from above. Two other notable things she was missing: her weapons, and Xena. Not particularly reassuring, as a combination of circumstances went; she couldn't hear anything echoing in the darkness except her own breathing (and occasional compulsive yell of "Xena!"), and she had no idea what role she had to play in Ares's game. Then again, he did seem to have something in mind for her, so -- hopefully -- nothing would come at her out of the shadows.
She had no idea how much time had passed or how it happened, but just when she thought she'd go out of her mind from total isolation something changed. All of a sudden it was still dark, but with moonlight filtering down through the tree branches and twigs snapping beneath her feet when she shifted her weight. Still no sign of Xena -- no sign of Mavican, either, and that was more concerning. This was turning out to be some kind of hunt, and Gabrielle couldn't help thinking of all those hours in Professor Skywalker's office, gathered around the TV to watch Katniss in the Hunger Games. She was just glad that the stakes for this game were nowhere near as high, and the circumstances nowhere near as cruel.
Right, no time for standing around thinking; Mavican certainly wasn't going to give her the benefit of the doubt. Gabrielle took stock of her surroundings quickly: A fire pit, some hastily gathered piles of kindling. Someone had made camp here, and she'd bet it wasn't Xena. The gods knew they'd made camp for too many nights for Gabrielle to forget Xena's style. Good. That meant Mavican would have to come back here eventually. As long as she wasn't, though . . .
Gabrielle had spotted a few things that would be useful, and she quickly went to work.
***
She could hear the soft creak of the branches above her and sent a mental thanks Ephiny and Solari for everything they’d ever taught her -- and if she could pull off a convincing job of being unaware of her surroundings, there would be thanks to Jono and Troy, and everyone who’d ever run the Boards back in Fandom, for the acting practice.
"Looking for Xena?" drawled Mavican as she dropped out of the tree with a far too exuberant war cry. "See, Gabrielle, looking is your problem."
She really did have a thing for telling other people they had problems, didn’t she? Well, a silent mental thank you went out to Fandom anyway, and Gabrielle feigned silent, wide-eyed surprise while Mavican kept talking.
"If you just stay still, she’ll come to you . . . and that’s what I’m counting on."
Gabrielle took a look at where Mavican was standing and let a tiny, self-satisfied smile cross her face. "Amazons invented the technique of fighting from trees," she said cheerfully. "The first thing they teach you is never to let your footprints end where you jump!"
She yanked hard on the vine in her hands. There hadn’t been time to rig a snare, but she’d settle for tripping Mavican up. It gave her just enough time to scoop up the half-sharpened branch she’d found earlier and bring the point to bear at Mavican’s throat.
"Uh uh. Ares said Xena couldn’t kill you. He didn’t say anything about me, though, so don’t do anything stupid."
She shouldn’t have taken that half second to enjoy the look of alarm in Mavican’s eyes when she pointed that detail out . . . which she realized, in retrospect, just before a boot to the temple knocked her out cold.
***
Why was there a creaking sound? And why did it feel like she was sitting on branches?
"Did you have a nice nap?" Mavican asked, falsely sweet.
Gabrielle opened her eyes and realized she’d been crammed into a wooden cage strung up from a tree branch. Well. Out of all the times she’d been captured, this was a new spin.
"You know, it’s strange," Mavican went on. "I really thought Xena would’ve done something during the night, under cover of darkness. At least, that’s what I would’ve done . . . so what’s it like, being with Xena?"
It always sounded so suggestive when people said that, Gabrielle realized. Why, she had no idea. Mavican must have mistaken her quizzical look for misunderstanding the question, because she clarified, "It’s like a brush with eternity, isn’t it?"
Gabrielle studied her through narrowed eyes. "What are you talking about?"
"Oh, please -- you’re a part of making the legend come true," Mavican retorted. "Those scrolls you write? Yeah. I got a hold of one a while back. You know, you really should write more. I’m gonna need someone to write me into history after I kill her."
Really? Gabrielle snorted. "I hate to tell you this, but history is fickle. Believe me -- thousands of years from now, it’ll be a miracle if anyone remembers this time correctly, even if we do write it all down." She suspected explaining the Fandom library would be utterly pointless.
"History will remember me, Gabrielle," Mavican insisted.
"Why?" Could Gabrielle take back every uncharitable thing she’d ever thought about certain people from Fandom being annoying now? This was a whole new level of arrogant and annoying. "Because you think you might kill someone?"
Mavican jumped up and started pacing in front of the cage. "You don’t get it. Ares doesn’t get it. People will talk about me for ages: the woman who stood toe to toe with Xena. And win or lose, I’ll be remembered."
Gabrielle really couldn’t help it this time. "Oh, really? Haven’t read a thing about you, and I spent a lot of time in that library."
Mavican had no idea what to make of that statement. She started rambling on about the gods and destiny, and Gabrielle was just trying to tune her out when sunlight started to bleed into the edge of the horizon --
She felt a strange wrenching sensation, like she was being pulled out of her own body somehow, and when it faded she found herself back in that dark little room again.
Okay -- this was beginning to get very strange.
[OOC: NFI/NFB/OOC-okay again, still adapted from X:WP 5x03, "Succession." To be continued . . .]
She had no idea how much time had passed or how it happened, but just when she thought she'd go out of her mind from total isolation something changed. All of a sudden it was still dark, but with moonlight filtering down through the tree branches and twigs snapping beneath her feet when she shifted her weight. Still no sign of Xena -- no sign of Mavican, either, and that was more concerning. This was turning out to be some kind of hunt, and Gabrielle couldn't help thinking of all those hours in Professor Skywalker's office, gathered around the TV to watch Katniss in the Hunger Games. She was just glad that the stakes for this game were nowhere near as high, and the circumstances nowhere near as cruel.
Right, no time for standing around thinking; Mavican certainly wasn't going to give her the benefit of the doubt. Gabrielle took stock of her surroundings quickly: A fire pit, some hastily gathered piles of kindling. Someone had made camp here, and she'd bet it wasn't Xena. The gods knew they'd made camp for too many nights for Gabrielle to forget Xena's style. Good. That meant Mavican would have to come back here eventually. As long as she wasn't, though . . .
Gabrielle had spotted a few things that would be useful, and she quickly went to work.
***
She could hear the soft creak of the branches above her and sent a mental thanks Ephiny and Solari for everything they’d ever taught her -- and if she could pull off a convincing job of being unaware of her surroundings, there would be thanks to Jono and Troy, and everyone who’d ever run the Boards back in Fandom, for the acting practice.
"Looking for Xena?" drawled Mavican as she dropped out of the tree with a far too exuberant war cry. "See, Gabrielle, looking is your problem."
She really did have a thing for telling other people they had problems, didn’t she? Well, a silent mental thank you went out to Fandom anyway, and Gabrielle feigned silent, wide-eyed surprise while Mavican kept talking.
"If you just stay still, she’ll come to you . . . and that’s what I’m counting on."
Gabrielle took a look at where Mavican was standing and let a tiny, self-satisfied smile cross her face. "Amazons invented the technique of fighting from trees," she said cheerfully. "The first thing they teach you is never to let your footprints end where you jump!"
She yanked hard on the vine in her hands. There hadn’t been time to rig a snare, but she’d settle for tripping Mavican up. It gave her just enough time to scoop up the half-sharpened branch she’d found earlier and bring the point to bear at Mavican’s throat.
"Uh uh. Ares said Xena couldn’t kill you. He didn’t say anything about me, though, so don’t do anything stupid."
She shouldn’t have taken that half second to enjoy the look of alarm in Mavican’s eyes when she pointed that detail out . . . which she realized, in retrospect, just before a boot to the temple knocked her out cold.
***
Why was there a creaking sound? And why did it feel like she was sitting on branches?
"Did you have a nice nap?" Mavican asked, falsely sweet.
Gabrielle opened her eyes and realized she’d been crammed into a wooden cage strung up from a tree branch. Well. Out of all the times she’d been captured, this was a new spin.
"You know, it’s strange," Mavican went on. "I really thought Xena would’ve done something during the night, under cover of darkness. At least, that’s what I would’ve done . . . so what’s it like, being with Xena?"
It always sounded so suggestive when people said that, Gabrielle realized. Why, she had no idea. Mavican must have mistaken her quizzical look for misunderstanding the question, because she clarified, "It’s like a brush with eternity, isn’t it?"
Gabrielle studied her through narrowed eyes. "What are you talking about?"
"Oh, please -- you’re a part of making the legend come true," Mavican retorted. "Those scrolls you write? Yeah. I got a hold of one a while back. You know, you really should write more. I’m gonna need someone to write me into history after I kill her."
Really? Gabrielle snorted. "I hate to tell you this, but history is fickle. Believe me -- thousands of years from now, it’ll be a miracle if anyone remembers this time correctly, even if we do write it all down." She suspected explaining the Fandom library would be utterly pointless.
"History will remember me, Gabrielle," Mavican insisted.
"Why?" Could Gabrielle take back every uncharitable thing she’d ever thought about certain people from Fandom being annoying now? This was a whole new level of arrogant and annoying. "Because you think you might kill someone?"
Mavican jumped up and started pacing in front of the cage. "You don’t get it. Ares doesn’t get it. People will talk about me for ages: the woman who stood toe to toe with Xena. And win or lose, I’ll be remembered."
Gabrielle really couldn’t help it this time. "Oh, really? Haven’t read a thing about you, and I spent a lot of time in that library."
Mavican had no idea what to make of that statement. She started rambling on about the gods and destiny, and Gabrielle was just trying to tune her out when sunlight started to bleed into the edge of the horizon --
She felt a strange wrenching sensation, like she was being pulled out of her own body somehow, and when it faded she found herself back in that dark little room again.
Okay -- this was beginning to get very strange.
[OOC: NFI/NFB/OOC-okay again, still adapted from X:WP 5x03, "Succession." To be continued . . .]