Part 7: The Dragon's Child
"Tell us a story about Xena!"
The barmaid frowned at the drunk, but the bard, who had learned to ignore that voice, continued the story with which she had decided to end the night's entertainment.
"So when the young hunter crawled back into the cave of the dragon, he found that his spear had found its mark after all. There lay the mighty beast, turned dark and still, its fire forever quenched. He was removing from its tail the mighty spike that would bring the reward for this, his first kill, when he heard a sound from the shadows at the rear of the cave. Having already removed his spear from the dragon's heart, he hefted it, ready to strike whatever animal was lying in wait. He walked cautiously toward the gloom and there, at the very farthest part of the cave, he found a baby, not a human infant, but the dragon's child."
"Now most people are of the belief that dragons are ugly beasts, fearsome monsters no man can stand to look upon. But the truth is that dragons are fearsome and hard to look upon because they are so very beautiful, with an iridescent beauty that can break the heart. The hunter looked upon this dragon, and it was so small and vulnerable, that, instead of breaking the hunter's heart, it captured it. Forgetting to take the prize at the tip of the mother dragon's tail, the hunter picked up the baby dragon and carried it to his home."
"The hunter was a bachelor, untaught in the care of any infant, let alone the child of a dragon, but, through trial and error, mistake and muddle, he managed to keep the baby alive and healthy. Having been taught by his father, a famous dragon hunter, how naturally ferocious and mean were these shining beasts, he was surprised at the gentle and tractable nature of the one he was raising. This one must be the exception, he told himself. And, in order to put food in both their bowls, he continued to hunt dragons and never again forgot the trophy that would bring his reward."
"As all children will, the dragon's child grew up. Although, it must be said, young dragons grow very fast. Before long, the dragon's child was too big for the hunter's cottage, so the hunter built her a shelter beside the barn that housed his few sheep. One day, the hunter came home from an unsuccessful hunt, dragons becoming scarce in that region, and found his dragon happily munching on his only ram. Stupid dragon, the man shouted, How could you eat my only ram? Now where will I find a ram to breed my ewes? And the dragon looked at him sorrowfully, not knowing why Papa was angry, but knowing he was and said, That won't be a problem. I ate the ewes first."
"Hearing this, the hunter was even angrier at the dragon and yelled at her some more. The dragon sighed and said, Well, you have to tell me these things. I'm only being a dragon, you know."
"A few days later, the hunter was gone again, and some bandits came to his place. They broke into the cottage and were making away with his few, poor possessions when suddenly they were confronted with a fire-breathing dragon. When the hunter came home, his possessions were stacked neatly in the middle of the yard, and the dragon was daintily picking her teeth with the thighbone of the last robber. What are you doing? the hunter screamed. Even if those were bandits, you can't just kill and eat them, you know. They should have been taken to the village and given a trial. The dragon sighed, sorry that she had upset Papa yet again. I'm sorry, she breathed, keeping her fire turned way down low, but remember that you have to tell me these things. How else is a dragon to know?"
"For a long time, the hunter didn't go away from home, but finally there was no food for either him or the dragon, and he had to go to town. Listen, he told the dragon, no matter what happens, don't eat anyone while I'm gone. Don't eat a sheep or a pig or a cow or a bandit or any other living thing that happens to wander in. Do you understand? The dragon smiled, confident that she at last understood the rules. Yes, Papa, she said, and, thinking what a well-meaning and beautiful dragon she really was, the hunter patted her smooth, shining sides."
"When the hunter got to the town, the streets were filled with people, all excited, and all very glad to see him. The richest man in town called to him, There's been a dragon flying in the sky just west of town all day. I want to hire you to kill it before it eats all my cows and pigs and sheep and all the people who grow crops in my fields. The hunter was excited, too, for his pockets held very few coins, and it was expensive to feed his young dragon. The rich man suddenly pointed toward the western sky and yelled, See there it is! There's that terrible, fire-breathing monster! And the hunter looked where the rich man pointed, and, as you probably guessed, there flew his own dragon."
"The hunter said he would take care of the problem, and he raced to the west, back toward his home and the dragon. When the young dragon saw him coming, she made a graceful landing and proudly walked toward her Papa. Papa, Papa, she cried, see what I just learned to do. I can fly, and it's the most fun in the whole world. The hunter opened his mouth and was prepared to yell at her and tell her that she must never fly again. Then he realized what she had been telling him since she had said her first words: I'm a dragon, Papa. And he finally knew this was true. He had been her Papa, taking care of her as best he could, but she was not his child. She was the dragon's child, and she must be allowed to be what she was."
"The hunter said to the young dragon, You are smart to learn how to fly all by yourself. That is what we have been waiting on. Now it is time for you to go to your real family, to the good dragons that live in the east. Fly home, little dragon, where you can be a real dragon, living in a cave with other dragons, not alone in a shelter beside someone's barn."
"The dragon's child was sad to leave her Papa, but she was also excited that she would get to try her wings over such a long distance and that she would find at the end of her journey kind dragons who looked just like her. So, after circling one time to say goodbye, she rose higher and higher into the sky until, with just a flash of light on her beautiful skin, she disappeared from sight. And then the hunter knew that the dragon's child was finally grown, for her beauty had just broken his heart."
As the bard's story ended, there was a sigh from all who had heard it and really listened. The barmaid, who had become the storyteller's friend, was walking through the room gathering coins when a stranger hurried in. Although the bard didn't know it, this was the man whom Xena had punched a few days earlier for asking about her.
"Are you Gabrielle?" he asked.
"Yes," she said.
"The one who travels with Xena?" Gabrielle didn't know why, but she thought he ducked as he asked this question.
"I used to."
"Well, she's dying, and she's asking for you. I have her horse outside. Will you come?" Gabrielle grabbed his arm and pulled him out the door before he finished his question.
The drunk complained loudly. "Now she's gone, and she never did tell a story about Xena!"
The barmaid looked on her best customer with contempt. "Fool! Every story she tells is about Xena."
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Part 8: Reconciliation
As much as she hated to ride, Gabrielle led her so-called guide on a hard chase back to Thelonius's camp. Argo, eager to get back to her mistress was, after all, the only guide the young woman needed. Luckily, for horses and humans alike, they were less than a day away.
Most of the tents had already been taken down, as the temporary soldiers had returned to their jobs as farmers and craftsmen, as herders of cattle or sheep. Thelonius, too, had returned to his business, but he had left his tent and his personal healer for Xena. He had not figured she would need them long.
Having hurried to get here, Gabrielle found herself reluctant to enter the tent. Her guide took the reins of both horses and, with a sympathetic look, walked away. The young woman was about to enter the tent when the healer came out. An old man, weathered by time and knowledge of suffering, he knew a patient's next-of-kin when he saw one.
"How is she?" Gabrielle asked.
"She has broken ribs, a broken arm, and she's bleeding somewhere inside," he said.
He expected shock and got relief. "So she'll be all right?"
"A normal person would be dead already," he answered. "Yeah, your friend will probably be fine. I set the arm, bound the ribs, and the rest. . . .nothing to do, just keep her still and hope she heals."
Gabrielle pushed back the tent flap and entered. Xena lay propped up in bed, her usually bronze complexion almost as pale as the bandages that held the splints on her left arm. Lurid bruises, still brightly purple, marred her sculptured features. Her upper lip was cut, and Gabrielle suspected it should have had a stitch to close it. The bard thought her the most beautiful sight she had ever seen.
"So you're not dying after all?"
"I had to say something to get you here."
Gabrielle sat carefully on the edge of the bed, but the movement still caused the warrior to stifle a groan. "Go ahead and cry out," Gabrielle said. "I'm the one who created the idea of your being stoic."
"Am stoic," Xena growled.
"Yeah, sure." The younger woman leaned forward and lightly brushed her lips against an unbruised spot on Xena's forehead. "What did we argue about?"
"I don't remember." Xena took Gabrielle's right hand in hers and winced as she changed her position in the bed.
"I do. We argued about this."
"Fighting giants?" The warrior chuckled. "He really wasn't, you know. A giant. Just big."
"Big?"
"HUGE."
Gabrielle leaned forward and tried to kiss Xena's bottom lip without touching the top. Ignoring any pain, Xena pressed both lips against Gabrielle's. The bard's breath caught, and she pulled back. "Stoic."
"Told you so." They kissed again, longer this time, and it was Xena who finally pulled away. She tried to fix her lover with a hard, warrior stare. "If you're only here to nurse me back to health, you can leave now."
"I'm here forever," Gabrielle promised.
"Right here?" Xena looked around. "I think Thelonius will want this tent back. But if you say so . . . ."
"With you," the small woman corrected. "Forever."
"Even if I still fight giants?"
"You said he wasn't a giant."
"Well, he was ALMOST a giant." Xena laughed, gently, to protect her ribs. "He was even taller than me."
"That's hard to imagine." Gabrielle pulled up the sheet to look at the bandages on Xena's ribs. She found that bandages were all that Xena wore. And bruises. Lots of bruises. "Which side are your broken ribs on?" Xena pointed.
"Same as the broken arm. That's convenient." Kicking off her shoes, Gabrielle slid into bed beside her friend and lover.
"Uh, I don't think I can do anything," Xena said reluctantly.
"Can you hold me?" Gabrielle asked.
"I can do that." Gabrielle laid her head on Xena's good shoulder, and Xena wrapped her right arm around her and put a kiss on her shining red hair. After a few moments of peace, the warrior asked the question that had begun their separation, "What is it you want from me?"
"Everything," the bard answered. "I want everything."
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