Title: Tartarus Buildup
Author: rise_your_dead/bring_me_sugar/Missy
Fandom: Xena: Warrior Princess
Pairing/characters: Gabrielle, Xena, Autolycus and Argo, with some original characters in the background
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Doesn’t belong to me, belongs to Renaissance Pictures
Word Count: 2,944
Spoiler: General series spoilers; takes place early in the series, roughly around the middle of season 1, sometime after the girls have first met Autolycus.
Warnings: (if any or choose not to warn) : mild canon-typical violence and peril.
Notes: Written for Frances J. for Galentines Day In ‘14! I tried to keep this as fun and light as I could while keeping the action series apropos.
Summary: Xena and Gabrielle run into trouble when they’re accused of thievery by the citizens of the seemingly-friendly town of Selfish Hills. While a captured Gabrielle tries to protect herself and Argo with her bard’s skills, Xena goes in search of the real culprit.
“Isn’t it a beautiful day?” Xena’s expression lay somewhere between baleful and irritated - her response to Gabrielle’s chirpy remark was a grumble and a light kick to Argo’s side. “Not a morning person, huh?”
Silence passed. Argo rounded the last curve of the long, tree-lined pathway they’d been walking for a full month and started stomping toward a small grazing meadow. Before Gabrielle could continue with that line of thought, Xena spoke up. “Gabrielle, I know you don’t mean to be annoying…”
“I’m annoying?”
“I’m just a little tired. Joxer kept us up half the night with his flute practice...”
“He’s getting better.” Gabrielle had been cheerfully encouraging to him, was cheerful about most everything but his dogged pursuit of hero hood, but then again she was cheerfully encouraging to everyone she met.
“…But that’s why I’m tired,” she said. “I could use a gallon of coffee, but we’re ten meters from the nearest town.”
“Well, that’s a good reason to kick this guy into high gear,” Gabrielle said. She gently planted her heels into Argo’s side and let out a very impressive “hi-yah!”
Argo responded by moseying along at his own contented pace.
“Why won’t he listen to me?” Gabrielle frowned, gently patting Argo’s hide. “Did I break him?”
Xena smiled. “You’re not giving it enough emphasis. HI-YA!” Argo responded to the sound of his mistress’ voice by breaking into a full run, finally pulling to a stop in the high grass of the field.
Gabrielle clutched her breast and let out a gasp of relief as their wild ride came to an end - and Xena dismounted with her own sense of inborn grace. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to him!”
Xena patted Argo’s side in praise while the horse munched his morning meal. “You did fine,” Xena insisted. “You kept the reigns and you didn’t shoot over the pommel this time.”
Gabrielle rubbed her elbow self-consciously before she noted the trammeled pathway a few inches away. Apparently they had found civilization at last.
“We could both use a hot meal and a bath,” she told her friend, who’d dismounted and unpacked the skin of water they’d packed and was splitting the bounty between herself and Argo. “Why don’t we follow that path to the nearest town?”
Xena smiled indulgently. “Won’t that take us off-course?”
Gabrielle sighed. “Xena, we’re both exhausted. If we don’t take a little time for ourselves, we’ll fall right over and then we won’t be of use to anybody!”
“All right,” Xena sighed. “First one there’s a rotten egg!”
Gabrielle rushed off with a yelp and Xena smirked, allowing her to rush halfway up the path before finishing with Argo and walking the horse into town.
***
Gabrielle beamed in her total and complete righteousness as the met again in the center of town. Its citizenry were out in full force; on every face was a smile, in every lung a laugh.
And they - Xena less voluntarily than Gabrielle -waved happily back. Infected by the town’s general enthusiasm, they stabled Argo for a coup and headed to the nearest tavern for breakfast. By the time their meals arrived, even Xena was grinning.
“I have to admit you’re right, Gabrielle,” Xena said, eagerly stuffing huge bites of brown bread into her mouth and alternating them with spoonfuls of porridge. “This is a nice town.”
“I told you we’d be fine. Though I must admit, I’m a little confused. Why would anyone name a town like this Selfish Hills?” Gabrielle wondered. “Everyone seems so nice.”
Xena shrugged. “Maybe the hills got jealous of the trees?” She laughed at her own joke, oblivious to a sudden stiff passing breeze - one that whisked away her hunk of bread in a blink of the eye.
“Ha ha ha,” Gabrielle fake-laughed. A similar gust passed her by, swiping her spoon. She frowned at her empty hand just as Xena did the same. “Did my spoon wander off?” she asked.
“It must be on vacation with my bread,” Xena remarked.
But their concerns were interrupted by the varied shouts of the other townsfolk. One missing a pipe, another a hat, another a spoon. Xena and Gabrielle rushed into the center of the chaos and instantly one of the men shouted, “it was them! The strangers! GET THEM!”
****
It was not a very comfortable fifteen minutes for Gabrielle and Xena. Though neither was entirely unscathed, both were mobile and healthy as they watched the mob form in the center of town from the semi-safe vantage point of two empty pickle barrels.
The group already had its own ring-leader, and he wasn’t beyond giving orders. “Find the strangers,” he said. He smiled as a too-familiar horse was led to the center of town - it was Argo, who protested even as the man grabbed him by his lead. “And tell them that if they don’t surrender by noon, their little horsie will become a pretty pot of glue!”
“We have to help them,” hissed Gabrielle into Xena’s ear.
“HELP them?!” Xena whispered back. “Are you out of your mind!? They just tried to kill us!”
“Well, that doesn’t mean they’re all bad.” Xena offered her best eyeroll to the heavens. “If we don’t help them out, the real thief will keep on stealing. If you don’t do it for them, do it for poor Argo.”
With those words, Xena’s resolve solidified. “All right. Do you have a plan?”
“Do I have a plan?!” Gabrielle chuckled. “I have a plan!”
Xena groaned. “Why don’t we do this?...”
****
Xena’s plan - which was, Gabrielle honestly thought, pretty brilliant - involved her sneaking into the square in a cloak and grabbing hold of Argo;s reins, then leading him off and riding by to pick up Xena at a full gallop. She thought she could manage the full gallop part, but the stopping filled her with heart-palpitating fright.
She kept her head low, blended in with the crowd, and managed not to draw attention to herself.
Until she felt that awful, familiar breeze and then the cloak being lifted right off of her head.
“It’s one of the strangers!” she heard, and though she struggled wildly, could not secure her own freedom. As she was trussed up beside Argo, Gabrielle sent a desperate look toward the pickle barrel.
She only hoped that Xena had a better idea.
***
Xena had indeed witnessed the seizure of Gabrielle but, unfortunately, no plan had sprung to life in her mind.
That is, until she noted the very faint, very high-pitched sound that had accompanied the hood’s snatching.
“Lalayhoooo!”
“Autolycus!” she hissed under her breath. The silver-tongued thief had somehow figured out a way to steal at the speed of light!
“But how do you stop somebody who’s so fast?” she wondered.
The answer was surprisingly easy to come by. After creeping out of the pickle barrel, she strung up a tripwire made of a strip of leather fringe scavenged from the barrel and waited for the distinctive sprout of wind.
Her man fell with an ‘oof’ at her feet.
She dragged him by his jerkin around the corner. “Autolycus! What in the name of Zeus are you doing?”
He tried to yank himself out of her grip. “Who in blue blazes is Autolycus?”
Xena almost lost her grip upon the man’s clothing when she heard his high-pitched squeak of a voice. “A very annoying pest who’s going to taste the butt of my sword if he doesn’t help out my best friend!” A confused look. “He looks exactly like you,” Xena added.
“Huh?” then recognition dawned. “oooh! You wanna talk to the boss?”
“Yes. Take me to your boss.” She released her grip on his collar and watched him fall to the ground with a satisfying thud. “NOW.”
“Uh…right away, Miss!” he climbed to his feet, saluted and turned toward the main road back toward the forest, still wearing the cloak he’d snatched from Gabrielle and with a sack of the villager’s possessions tossed over his shoulder.
And so she followed him - at a normal pace - out of town and some ways down a dark road.
They eventually stopped at a clearing, a clearing that was perfectly silent until he cupped a hand around his mouth and shouted, “Lalayhoooo!”
“Lalayhoooo!” Echoed a thousand other high-pitched Autolycian voices. In the blink of an eye one, two, three, four and more of them gathered in a circle in the clearing. The final to appear - moving at a normal speed and festooned with the mayor’s golden, tri-cornered hat - arrived via vine swing.
The cocky smile on his lips vanished when he saw her.
****
Gabrielle paced the length of the gallows, walking from one guard to the other, back and forth, with Argo penned down to the maypole behind her. Under watch from the guards she knew she couldn’t afford to pull anything ‘funny’. But time grew short, and she saw the noon hour growing ever closer via the town’s sundial.
She patted Argo gently with her rope-bound wrists. “I know, boy,” she said. “But we can’t give up hope! Xena will find us and save us, I know she will!”
Then it came to her! The easiest way to delay her execution would be….
“Excuse me?” she called to one of her guards. “Can I have a quill and a scroll?” He eyed her suspiciously. “I’m a bard, you see,” she explained. “And I think I’m due a final speech.”
They glanced at each other, shrugged, and sent word to the mayor.
Seconds later, Gabrielle sat writing the most epic speech in the history of her short career. She only hoped it would be long enough to restrain the crowd until Xena showed up.
“Where are you?” she muttered under her breath, and kept writing.
****
Things back at Autolycus’ headquarters were less peaceful. “Hey, hey, easy there, Xena,” he said, squirming back against the nearest tree, holding out a supplicating hand. “I didn’t mean any harm! It was just having a little fun with all of those sourpusses!”
“Yeah!” agreed one of his minions, a few more stepping forward to prepare for battle. “You want us to make quick work of her, boss?”
“Nah, I’ll handle this! She’s not so tough!” His hopping, loud-mouthed boasting received nothing but silence from Xena, who quietly, calmly approached him. “She’s a pussycat!” She placed a hand upon her Charkram. “She….” Xena calmly raised an eyebrow. “ALL RIGHT, I GIVE UP!”
“I have two questions for you, Autolycus,” she growled, as his duplicates muttered to one another in disappointed confusion. “How did you clone yourself and how are you going to fix this?”
“It’s a pretty simple story. Y’see, I found this old book on my last trip through Ampoules,” he said. “It was inked in old Tartarian, and filled with spells and incantations…”
She crossed her arms over her chest, tapping the tips of her fingers impatiently. “….and you read from it.”
“Of course! I thought it would double my fortunes…but it just doubled me.” Autolycus grinned at the multitude of selves. “I had no choice but to train them to be a crackerjack stealing team!”
“You read a book written in an ancient language of the underworld and you didn’t find anything suspicious about it when it made an army of clones for you?” Xena asked.
“Eh, I just thought I was really lucky!” She grabbed him by the collar and pinned him to the tree.
“Your ‘luck’ has my best friend and my horse in a lot of trouble. THEY’RE GOING TO HANG THEM BY HIGH NOON.”
“Gadzooks!” He choked out.
“Boss?” worried one of the clones, but Autolycus’ lack of command kept them all rooted where they were.
“We’re going to bring those people their things, you’re going to confess to your crimes and then you’re going to get rid of these underworld spawns!”
“Okay, okay…easy!” Autolycus gasped out. “We’ll save Gabby, but forcing these guys to go back to Tartarus isn’t fair! They’re only thieves because of my perfect teaching.”
Xena’s peripheral vision picked up a few of the meandering duplicates. They were boredly picking their noses, or stuffing jewels into their mouths like toddlers. “They do seem sort of helpless…for a bunch of demonic spawns from a creepy book.”
“So if you let them live, I’ll help you rescue Gabby and give those jerks back their stuff. Deal?”
“Deal,” she growled. “Don’t double cross me, Autolycus.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He reached into the pocket of his vest and pulled forth a tiny tin whistle. Playing out a lovely rhythm that brought all of his men to immediate attention, Autolycus called, “gather up the loot, boys! We’re gonna reverse-Ali Baba them!”
“Aww!” came a multitude of responses.
“Now now! There are other, richer towns out there to plunder! But this place is gonna be strictly off limits after we pull a coupla of…” he gave a nauseated gulp. “Good deeds.”
“When do we start, boss?” one asked, turning the tide of public opinion, drawing the others toward the pile of goods.
“Right now! Follow me, boys!”
And, piping along with Xena at his side, Autolycus led the group of men back into the village square.
***
Xena grinned when she saw Gabrielle upon the block. Her best friend, resourceful as ever, had scripted a farewell speech that had captivated the audience.
“…SEIZE THE LIVRE!” She shouted. “Keep out the dust, keep your eye on the sun and…” she suddenly grinned as she heard the brassy piping of Auto’s flute and the sight of Xena leading the charge, “always remember your best friend will help you in times of need.” She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. “Phew.”
Xena marched the group of Autolycus to the front of the podium. The speedy quasi-demons had emptied their sacks of loot, distributing their il-gotten gains to the approving and surprised shouts of their former victims. “What’s the meaning of this?” the mayor sneered.
“We’re here to stop an unjust execution!” Xena shouted.
“Unjust?!” bellowed the mayor, “we caught this girl at her trade!”
“Sorry hizzoner,” said Auto. “But you’ve got the wrong dame. My guys decided to loot your place and they went a little wild. No harm, no foul, right?”
“You committed grand larceny upon my people with your…gadrooplets…and you expect me to forgive this woman and her companion…and her equine companion? Do you think justice is that simple?” he cried.
“Sir,” Gabrielle said, calm as you please for a woman with a noose around her neck. “Do you have any evidence that anything was stolen?” she asked. “Do your citizens seem unhappy?”
The mayor’s jaw dropped open, his overly-tanned skin and shock of blond hair quivering in rage. His citizens had turned from the podium to discuss the wonderment of their possession’s return. He gestured toward his head but before he could complain his hat was plonked atop his head.
“I don’t think you have any reason to hold us,” she said. “And I don’t think Autolycus and his men deserve to be imprisoned either.” Xena withdrew her sword from its sheath and kept her eyes steady upon the mayor’s face. “But if you’d prefer a battle, I’m sure these men would happily follow me into the breach and to their deaths.”
“Don’t be so sure,” hissed Auto, who received a quick elbow to the gut as Xena eyed the mayor.
He had no choice but to throw his arms wide. “Let them go!” he called to the guards.
Xena smiled. She reached confidently up for Gabrielle’s hands and sliced her bonds. Gabrielle then went to Argo and untied him from the maypole and mounted the horse.
“Hi-ya!!” she called, and to her amazement, Argo moved forward….at a much slower pace than anticipated, but he moved at her request, to her relief. Now if he would only stop when she dug in her heel….
Xena laughed and reached for the horse’s pommel, mounting him at a slow canter. Gabrielle grinned and hugged Xena from behind as she spurred Argo off on a run, tossing a salute to Autolycus and his chattering, celebrating men.
****
Several weeks later, Xena and Gabrielle were cooling their heels at another friendly inn several hours away from Selfish Hills. They were spotted by a man in a cape and both recognized him by his facial hair.
“Where are your men, Autolycus?” Xena wondered.
“Eh, they decided to stay in Selfish Hills,” he shrugged. “They got together and had a vote - decided to start a cart washing business together and, well, you gals know how I feel about mud.”
They gave him a look of pure confusion.
“So how did you know Xena’d come and save ya, Gabs?” Auto shook his head. “Had to admit when we got on the road I thought you were feta toast.”
“Because,” Gabrielle said, wrapping an arm around Xena’s waist, “she’s the best friend I’ve ever had.”
“Real friends don’t walk away in times of trouble,” Xena told Autolycus.
He shrugged. “Maybe someday you’ll get to prove your friendship to me,” he suggested, wiggling his brow.
A massive double eyeroll sent him to his feet, cackling.
Once Auto had deserted the table, Xena turned toward her friend. “Gabrielle, I’ve been thinking,” Xena said. “Maybe after we finish you could take Argo for a ride solo, to exercise his legs.”
“You trust me to do that?” Gabrielle grinned.
Xena nodded her head, gave her a smile. “After what we just went through, I definitely do. And so does Argo,” she added.
The two friends headed out to the stables where Argo had been boarded, chattering about their plans and about what the road had in store for them.
The adventure went on, and all the while they would have each other - and Argo - to rely on.