The Family that Almost Was

How does one say sorry to a very moody warrior? I might be able to get away with flowers, but only because she’s pregnant and not rational. Wait I know, find and kill the biggest game they have out here. She is always hungry.

I hear crashing and thrashing through the bushes. I know it’s Xena, but I don’t know if she’s going to kill me or not.  Just act cool. Stir the stew and act like I don’t hear her.

‘Gabrielle.’ Turning I see Xena standing with her sword out, chest heaving. She comes rushing over to me, crushing me in a hug. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Umm.’

‘I’m sorry I shouldn’t have got so angry.’ Her hand is rubbing up and down the back of my head.

‘You don’t have to be sorry Xena, it’s my fault.’ I smile a little.

‘You’re always so forgiving.’ Well this mood swing is rather drastic.  She’s probably hungry.

‘Umm the food is done.’

‘Thank the Gods, I’m starving.’ She lets me go, rubbing her hands together and licking her lips. Note to self, keep Xena fed.

I grab a bowl, dishing a massive amount of stew into it. She snatches it out of my hands and begins shoveling it into her mouth.

‘Xena, you should slow down before you choke.’  Immediately she stops, looking at me embarrassed.  Slowly she lowers the bowl and makes exaggerated slow spoonful’s. I grab my forehead, wondering if she’s going to be a little more normal now. Either way I should probably apologize. I need some armor for this.

‘I’m sorry for asking you about Ares.’ Her eyes narrow but she keeps eating. ‘I know it’s crazy, I guess I just get a little insecure sometimes.’ She sighs, the movement of her spoon stops.

‘If I ever take you for granted, tell me.’ Her spoon resumes its up and down movement. I sit down next to her, laying my head on her shoulder. At least she seems calmer now.

As soon as she finishes, Xena lays down again. She’s asleep within seconds.  I’m pretty sure that baby is coming sooner rather than later, and I’m betting someone will be trying to kill us at that very moment too. If anything, this baby will not have a boring life, if we can manage to stay alive long enough.

I grab some parchment and my quill and begin to write, more for myself than anything else.

 I wonder; is this the sort of adventure that people will tell? The one without the battles and death. Just two people living their life. Do people want to know the faults of their heroes? Find out these superhuman beings are just as fragile as everyone else? I could write about a hero that  never makes a mistake but that would be a lie. I’d rather write about the bond, the eternal trust and faith that two people can have.