GENRES: Xena: Warrior Princess, drama, romance.  VIOLENCE: Heavy fighting, in the course of which one of Xena’s two closest friends is badly injured.  SEX: Some kissing.  Gabrielle examines her body and makes an unusual discovery, but there are no explicit details.  LANGUAGE: Clean.  RATING: PG-13.  SUBTEXT: What a foolish notion!  Xena and Gabrielle are totally heterosexual.  SPOILERS:  “Sins of the Past,” “Dreamworker,” “Death in Chains,” “Return of Callisto” and “A Comedy of Eros.”  NOTICE TO JOXERPHOBES: Let this story be a warning to you.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE:
          Xena                Warrior Princess
          Gabrielle          the Bard of Poteidaia, Xena’s best friend
          Joxer                the Mighty, Xena’s other best friend, in love with Gabrielle
          Patter               a nasty warlord, so called for his small feet
          Rat Stew          his nasty lieutenant, who isn’t picky about what he eats

                              Patter’s men
                              villagers

          It was a typical summer day in Greece: sunny skies, warm breeze, warlord attacking a village – and Xena, Warrior Princess, counterattacking the warlord.
          She paused briefly to issue orders to her two companions.  “Gabrielle, you know the drill.  Don’t let anybody get behind you, take out whoever you can and guard Joxer.”
          “Do I have to baby-sit him?” Gabrielle complained.
          “Yeah,” Joxer chorused.  “When those guys see my naked steel, they’ll be so scared –”
          “Joxer, you couldn’t scare a deer in hunting season,” the Warrior Princess said dryly.  “Stay out of trouble and don’t get too close to Gabrielle.  If she’s going to hit you with her staff, I’d rather it wasn’t an accident.”
          “It won’t be,” said Gabrielle, who had a disgusted look on her face.  “The thought of anything naked associated with Joxer makes me want to hit him.”
          Before Joxer could respond, Xena launched herself into a series of flips with her trademark war cry: “AI-LI-LI-LI-LI-LI-LI-LI-ZEEE-AH!”  Then she was in the fray, punching and kicking black-garbed brigands who somehow could not land a solid blow on the dodging figure, long dark hair flying all around her head, fists and feet explosively driven like pistons into faces, chests, midriffs and groins.  Men grunted with exertion and cried out with pain.  Few were truly hurt, their leather armor protecting them from serious damage, as was also true for Xena, but some did have the wind knocked out of them, and others hit their heads when they fell.  Those who did get up were quickly knocked down again.
          Gabrielle ran at a second group.  She was nearly as unlike Xena as could be imagined, being fair, short and completely unarmored.  She dressed in Amazon fashion, but her small green top and short brown skirt were comfortable unquilted cloth.  The bard carried only one weapon, a long Amazon staff that also served her for defense.  Her first two-handed blow slammed an attacker into two of his mates, all three falling backwards into a tangled heap.
          Joxer followed Gabrielle.  Another study in contrasts, he clanked as he ran, but that was from the mismatched pieces of his gear.  His round breastplate, tied to him by several leather thongs, appeared to be a flattened-out sieve.  Wicker lining stuck out of his helmet in Oriental fashion, giving him an outlandish look here in Greece.  The would-be warrior’s shaggy tunic, small cape and barbarian trousers didn’t help his looks any, nor did his pale complexion and long, rubbery face.  Though his sword was drawn, he couldn’t hit anything with his vaunted “naked steel.”  On the other hand, the brigands could not match the timing of Joxer’s stumbling motion, mainly because he had no timing.  By accident – or whim of the Fates – his blade intercepted anything that would have wounded him, often sending him spinning into another enemy, who would be knocked aside.
          Neither woman considered long hair to be a liability, but one daring fellow came up behind Xena, turned in the same direction she did and managed to grab the raven locks.  He attempted to snap her head back and distract her with the pain.  Her teeth clenched, the Warrior Princess managed to keep from crying out as she kicked backwards, catching her assailant in a most tender location.  He screamed and let her go.
          “Not bad.  No one ever tried that before,” Xena observed before ending the man’s misery with a head butt that rendered him unconscious.
          The leader of the marauders, as was clear from his higher quality armor of studded black leather with metal shoulder guards and armlets, full Roman-style helmet and ornate broadsword, now stepped up to face Xena.  “You can’t stop me this time,” he sneered.
          The Warrior Princess drew her sword.  “Still looking for magic to make you invincible, Patter?  Even if you find it, you’ll screw up.  Invincibility is an illusion anyway.”
          “Wonderful.  The woman who killed Sinteres now spouts his philosophy.  You’re getting as chatty as your tagalong blonde, Xena.”
          “Then shut up and fight,” she replied, and swung her blade.  It was parried, but Xena expected that.  She continued to maneuver and thrust, dancing away from Patter’s sword but not pressing her advantage.  The villagers, encouraged by the example set by Xena and her friends, now joined in with pots and pitchforks against his men.  What they lacked in skill they made up in numbers.
          “Gabrielle, get over to the village storehouse!” Xena shouted.  She now increased the tempo of her attacks, preventing Patter from moving to stop the bard.
          While she had no idea where the storehouse might be, Gabrielle cleared the area around her with a few shrewd sweeps of her staff and started searching.  Joxer, following his heart, stayed with her.  He did his best to aid Gabrielle in her search, but the bard was faster and more alert, so Joxer’s efforts were fruitless, quickly turning into a hindrance.  When Gabrielle moved around a foodseller’s stall that had been temporarily abandoned by its frightened owner, Joxer cut inside, accidentally knocking a hanging cheese into Gabrielle’s face.  It bounced back into Joxer, who then collided with the bard.
          She restrained herself from cracking Joxer’s kneecap with her staff, instead snarling, “Joxer, get out of my way!”  Shoving him aside, Gabrielle moved on to the next small building, leaving him and his apology behind.  Even without the delay, however, Gabrielle would not have reached the storehouse in time; as it happened, a pair of Patter’s men emerged with sacks of loot as Gabrielle turned the corner.
          The bandits were unaware that all was not going smoothly until they felt a sharp pain in their shins.  Gabrielle, whose small stature and girlish looks belied her experience, had swung her staff low, upending both men.  They dropped the bags perforce, and one bag split open, scattering coins and baubles in the dusty street.  More men followed the first two, running headlong into Joxer.  These also dropped what they were carrying and drew their weapons.  Taking only a second to determine where she could best defend herself from the heavy odds against her, Gabrielle leaped onto the ledge of a nearby fountain and began to rain blows upon her foes.  The staff, which was taller than she was, gave her considerable reach.
          Somehow Joxer managed to retain his sword, but he was now disoriented.  He stumbled about, swinging wildly at anything that moved.  Unfortunately, this included Gabrielle, who had to bend nearly double to avoid having her bare midriff sliced open.
          “Joxer, you idiot!  Keep your stupid sword away from me!  You’re no help!” she shouted.  Then she had to jump over one man’s attack and knock a second man off the ledge, which he had gained when Gabrielle was forced to avoid Joxer.  “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she kept muttering.
          Recoiling in horror from what he had almost done, Joxer tripped backward over the abandoned sacks and fell, losing his helmet in the process.  Scrabbling for his sword, one hand closed on some of the loot.  He took a moment to look, and discovered a shiny ring, not ornate but set with an emerald.  Gabby would like this, he decided.  It might make up for getting in her way.
          “Stupid Joxer!” he heard her grunt as she attacked another bandit.  Gabrielle wasn’t even looking at the would-be warrior, which hurt him more.
          “I wish Gabby could find out what it’s like to be me for a day,” Joxer complained, so stung that he didn’t realize he had spoken aloud.  Getting up, he saw a large, well-muscled man come out of the storehouse.  This man carried a huge mace to match his size.  Glaring at the fallen bandits, the big man moved behind the fountain, jumped onto the ledge and carefully maneuvered so he could strike at Gabrielle before she noticed he was there.
          “GABBY!” Joxer cried, and charged the big man.  Gabrielle had not been surprised – Xena had taught her a few things about staying alert in the middle of a battle – but was forced to check her swing because Joxer was in its path.
          The mace fell on Joxer’s unprotected skull with a sickening thud.
          Joxer crumpled and fell, blood streaming from his head.
          “JOXER!” screamed Gabrielle.  If she had been a spitfire before, she was a veritable Fury now.  Her staff first smashed into the big man’s face, then with the precision of Amazon training Gabrielle reversed it on the back swing, catching the thighs just above his shin guards.  He raised his mace again, but the butt end of the staff went into his abdomen, only the pteryges, strips of leather hanging from his belt, saving him from serious injury.  Lips turned back in a snarl, Gabrielle struck again and again.  She wanted to kill this man, and was making her best effort to do it.
          The other brigands wanted no part of the bard and backed away.  The retreat became a rout as villagers showed up to support Gabrielle.  A firm hand clamped on her shoulder, causing her final attack to miscarry.
          “No,” Xena said in a gentle voice.
          “He killed Joxer!” Gabrielle declared, and tried to pull free, but Xena held her without effort.  The big man saw his chance and fled.
          Sinking to her knees, the bard began to sob bitterly.  “Joxer, I had him!  Of all the dumb things… why did you… ”
          Xena also went to her knees, but to examine the fallen Joxer.  “Snap out of it!  He’s not dead, not yet.  I need water, wine, some honey and a bandage.”
          “Not… dead?”  Gabrielle’s voice was broken, but she moved as fast as she could to help Xena.
          “Hurry up,” said the Warrior Princess.  “Scalp wounds are real bleeders, and I need to stop that before I can tell how serious it is.”
          Someone poured wine into a bowl, and Xena dipped her fingers in it before probing the wound.  No bones had been crushed, but the fact that Joxer failed to respond to the slight sting of the wine on her hands before his blood covered them was not good.  Gabrielle now washed off as much blood as she could and pressed a sponge to the gash to slow the bleeding at least.
          Xena cleaned her hands again and pried open one of Joxer’s eyelids.  The pupil was fully dilated.  Next she reached into a pouch at her side and produced some herbs, which she made into a compress.  Working swiftly to avert more bleeding, she poured wine on the wound, sponged it off again, smeared honey on it, put the compress on and fixed it with a bandage that she tied around Joxer’s head.
          Her job done for the moment, Gabrielle had picked up Joxer’s helmet and kept turning it over in her hands.  “I was supposed to protect you.  I’m sorry… I’m sorry.”
          “He’s still breathing,” Xena reported.  “How his head wasn’t split open, I’ll never know.  That was Patter’s lieutenant Rat Stew who hit him.  Pretty good with a mace, they say.  I wanted to let you kill Rat Stew, but… I couldn’t, Gabrielle.  Killing isn’t for you.”
          “But you let him get away!” the bard replied, angry with her most beloved friend.
          “He’ll be back.  Joxer needs us now.  When I heard you, I let Patter go too.  The others were already on the run.”
          “Xena, do you think it’s such a good idea to let Joxer follow us around?  He nearly got me killed, then he almost gets killed himself.”
          “Trying to help,” Xena sighed.  “Joxer has the heart of a lion, but the fighting ability of a newborn cub.  He’s going to be out for a long time.  Gabrielle, have some of the villagers take him into that stable over there.  You watch him.  Send somebody to get me if there’s any change.  I’m going to see if I can find whatever Patter thinks is magic in this village.”

          Joxer did not respond to anything, not to Gabrielle holding his hand, nor to her removing his armor, nor to her attempts to make him drink from a waterskin.  His pulse was thready but still there, and he had not lost much blood after all, because his hand was warm.  Gabrielle spread a blanket over him and took his hand again.
          “Why do you keep doing it, Joxer?” she whispered.  “You’re a good companion.  Can’t you just leave it at that?  You don’t have to prove you’re my friend… you’re part of my family.”
          A tear fell on his cheek, but he did not respond to that, either.
          Xena entered the stable.  “Anything?” she asked.
          “Nothing,” Gabrielle answered.
          “Not much on my end, either.  The storehouse is their temple, too.  The headman does the sacrifices here.  He told me that a stranger came to town a few weeks ago and was so pleased with the hospitality that he left a token of the gods, or so the stranger claimed, but the headman didn’t know what it was.  The villagers gave us some food.”  Xena displayed a cheese, bread and dried meat.
          “What about Patter’s army?”
          “Licking its wounds.  They’re in no shape to fight tonight, but they’ll return tomorrow.  Patter’s gambling that I won’t find this token before he does.”
          “But you will,” Gabrielle asserted.
          “Not tonight.  Joxer comes first.”
          “Great,” the bard spat.  “Even unconscious, Joxer finds a way to mess up the plan.”
          “Gabrielle, I think you’re mad at Joxer because he was hurt.”
          “Why not?  He should know better.”
          “You did know better, but you still followed me.  Okay, I admit he’s very annoying, but now is not the time to bring it up.”
          “I don’t want him dying like Perdicas!  At least my husband could fight.  Joxer’s got less chance of surviving a real battle than an ox does once the sacrifice begins.”
          Xena put her arm around Gabrielle’s shoulder and gave her a little squeeze.  “He’ll survive this battle.  I don’t know how well, though.”
          The two women ate, though slowly and without relish.  At Xena’s urging, Gabrielle took the first watch.  The bard was still very distraught from seeing Joxer go down, and the Warrior Princess thought it would be best for her most beloved friend to wear herself out early and sleep in if at all possible.

COPYRIGHT NOTICE:
          Xena: Warrior Princess, Xena, Gabrielle, Joxer and all other characters who have appeared in the series, together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MCA/Universal and Renaissance Pictures.  No infringement of copyrights or trademarks is intended in the writing of this fan fiction.  This story is © 2002 by Philip D. Hernández and is his sole property along with the story idea.  The characters of Patter and Rat Stew are his own creations.  This story cannot be sold or used for profit in any way.  Copies of this story may be made for private use only and must include all disclaimers and copyright notices.