Disclaimer: Xena, Gabrielle, Callisto, Argo and the rest belong to Universal, MCA, RenPic, and anyone else who wants 'em.
Rating: Mmm...PG for violence and mild subtext. Nothing serious, Callisto just wants to flirt a bit. And what Callie wants, Callie gets. Timing: I wrote this right after Sacrifice (tells you how old this is). It's an Alternate Universe take on Callisto's return.
Second Disclaimer of Talent: It's my first fan fic. Be nice (and remember what Gabby can do with a staff if you're not!).
Setting: A wood in Ancient Greece. Not a cold, dark murky wood, but a warm, sun-lit wood, dappled with shadow and laced in birdsong. A babbling stream ran through a clearing. In this clearing sat a lovely dark-eyed girl. Slight of frame and sweet of voice, she lay reclined on one elbow, a heap of white narcissus at her feet. Presently she rose to comb her long dark brown hair and dip it into the brook. Midway into washing, she sensed an audience to her bath. A flicker out of the corner of her eye confirmed the intruder's presence.
"Ilione?" she called. "Is that you?" When no answer came she called again, a bit more nervously. "Ilione, stop trying to scare me." She half-laughed, half-shuddered at the silence that followed. Suddenly she heard light, restrained breathing. She stood up, took several steps back, and fell into the brook. Upon climbing out--wet, sputtering and cold--she caught sight of her audience.
He was a few inches above average height, with a fairly slender buld, she could tell. When her eyes focused, she noticed he was fair--quite fair indeed. Her initial shock upon seeing him was compounded when she remembered she only had on her underslip and he had caught her grooming herself. She shivered, more out of fear than of the cold. At that point he reached for her arm. She screamed.
"Wait! Let me explain--" he began, but she neither wanted nor needed any explaination. She pushed his arm away and took to her feet. "Daphne!" he called. Terrified, she wondered how he knew her name...unless--he were Death! A demon sent straight from Tartarus to torture her on this plane. One touch would send needles of fire into her heart. Spurred on by visions of her own gruesome death, she fled from the brook.
"Daphne, let me explain! I am Apollo--and I love you!" Apollo! No, the demon was trying to slow her down. She pressed on, but felt weak. He was close on her heels--Suddenly she fell. Darkness, and all was silent.
"Xena? Xena! XENA!"
"Mmmph...wha...?"
"Wake up! For the love of Zeus, you can sleep sounder than anyone I know."
"Uhhh...such a strange dream."
"What was?"
Morning shone on the glossy dark hair of the tall, half-consious woman. She detected a strange odor in the air. She's getting breakfast ready, she thought sleepily. Rabbit, with a hint of thyme and rosemary. For someone who could barely find bird eggs a few years ago, she's getting good at turning nature's creatures into appetizing entrees, she mused wryly.
Yawning, she answered her young companion. "Oh (yawn), I just dreamt I was out in the woods being chased--running from--something with heavy steps and loud breath. Strange." She yawned again.
"You know, dreams can be signs of what is to come," replied the small woman seriously.
"Ah, you're not going to tell me I will be running from something when I've got this." She made a slight gesture towards her sword, still neatly tucked into its scabbard, lying a few feet from her on the grass.
"Elysium forbid it," Gabrielle laughed. "Nooo, but still..."
Suddenly the warrior heard a faint rustle in the woods. She rolled quickly and adeptly out of the bedroll, grabbing her sword in the process.
"What's wrong?" Gabrielle whispered. "Is there..." Xena made a quick motion, signalling the blonde to stay quiet and still. Gabrielle immediately comprehended. She made for her polearm, grasping it firmly and silently. The tall dark woman twirled her sword protectively a few times, then advanced towards the bushes. She had hardly gone halfway across when a familiar shrill hissing scream reached her ears. There was a dead silence, then a thin woman with wild blonde hair and equally wild dark eyes catapulted out of a high tree. She landed with catlike grace on both feet, a sword gleaming in her left hand.
"Taa-daah!" she exclaimed with a flourish of her long fingers. She cocked her head to one side and clucked sorrowfully. "Oh, my dear, you don't look very happy to see me. And I was so looking foreward to our reunion."
"How did you--the Hind's Blood--" Xena began, but the slim cheerful woman waved the question aside, as a fly. She looked at the bard. "Long time no see! Let's catch up, old time's sake, hmm?" She swiveled her head to meet the warrior's eye. "Bury the hatchet?"
Gabrielle's first instinct was to smash her weapon against the laughing blonde's skull, but she held off. Xena could take care of her, and Callisto would only deflect her blows, and possibly run her through. She had learned long ago not to face Callisto on her own; upon remembering the circumstances, she felt pure rage enter her heart. She took two steps towards the madwoman, but Callisto anticipated her, and before Gabrielle could react, grabbed the end of her staff, swung it round her head and struck the smaller woman with such a vicious blow she was thrown back several feet.
At that first assault Xena jumped into the air and landed at Callisto's throat. The blonde kicked the dark warrior's feet out from under her, but Xena retaliated with a slight slash to Callisto's thigh, lightly dripping blood. Ignoring her injury, she tumbled away, flipping onto her feet. "Ouch!" she squealed. "Is that any way to treat a guest who's come for breakfast?"
Xena poised her sword for another onslaught. "How did you come back?" she snarled. "And why? It couldn't be you missed the company."
"Oh, well, let's just say it's a gift from the gods." She grinned, exposing a great number of teeth in her V-shaped smile.
"Are you still a god?" Xena demanded.
"Goodness, yes dear." Callisto smiled. "Else why come back at all?"
Gabrielle stirred, then moaned, as a trickle of blood dripped down her nose. She held her head with tightly shut eyes and clenched jaw, waiting for the red wash over her vision to subside. "Ohhh..." She opened her eyes to see Callisto's blurred form a few feet away.
"Come, come!" cried the blonde warrior. "I didn't arrive all this way merely to cross swords with you again, Xena--although it was added incentive. And such a sweet surprise, too." She turned towards the young woman still prone before her. "My, Gabrielle, you're getting good. Soon you'll be slaughtering women and children right next to tall, dark and deadly here."
"Why have you come back?" Xena demanded. "And how?"
"Oh, why was easy. I missed my warrior princess. And how--but that's my little secret, hmm?"
"Come off it, Callisto. You must have a purpose. You were pretty low right before--"
Gabrielle remembered the plunge. The heat of the lava only a few yards from her feet, the smell of death, Xena's scream--and the realization that they would never see each other again. She shuddered.
"Yes, I suppose I have my bad days--but even warriors get the blues," replied Callisto. "Besides, there was more than enough reason to come back."
"What reason?" exclaimed Xena angrily. She hated the mind games Callisto put her through whenever they met--all the more because she knew how much the blonde enjoyed them.
"Oooh..." sighed Callisto, biting her lower lip in mock dilemma. "I really shouldn't tell."
Xena advanced threateningly upon her. "I'm warning you...I'll ask you once more..."
Callisto grinned. "Well, since you asked so nicely..." Xena smirked and raised her right eyebrow.
Callisto affected an air of seriousness. "It all began with Apollo--"
"Apollo?" Gabrielle broke in. "What does Apollo--"
Callisto whirled her head towards the young woman. "I'll thank you not to interrupt--spoils the effect." Xena silenced Gabrielle with a quick hand motion. "Thank you. You know, of all people, a bard should understand the fine points of storytelling."
Gabrielle was puzzled, and a bit angry. Of all people, Xena was telling her to be respectful of Callisto? Then she calmed down. Xena was merely gathering information. With this homicidal madwoman again at large, she'd need as much as possible.
...asked me to introduce him to an old friend of both our acquaintence. Seems to have taken a fancy to her," she sniffed.
One corner of Xena's mouth curled in amusement. "I never pictured you as a matchmaker, Callisto."
"Nor did I. Never cared much for love either--too much work. But, a deal's a deal, and the reward's more than enough."
Gabrielle exclaimed incredulously, "You're setting the sun god up on a date, and for this he's willing to free you from oblivion?"
"How poor it sounds in plain language! Yes, yes," replied Callisto impatiently, "it sounds very simple, and I rather wonder at his extreme action myself, but I'm not complaining."
Xena paused. "Why isn't Aphrodite fixing this up? Seems she'd be the one interested in this whole affair."
"Something about not wanting the other gods involved--he wasn't quite clear," replied the leather-clad blonde.
"That explains your situation," muttered Xena, half-aloud, half to herself. She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "But why are you telling us this, Callisto?"
"I need a favor," she replied crisply. "Much as I hate the idea, I need a favor."
Xena snorted. "No dice. I gave you your favor back at Dahak's temple. It's not my fault you chose to give it up."
"Oh, not from you, my dear." She swivelled her head towards Gabrielle and grinned. "Hmm?"
The bard opened her eyes wide and took an involuntary step back. "Oh no," she whispered harshly, in a strangled tone. Xena stepped in front of her small companion protectively, gripping her sword.
"Don't look so astonished, Gabrielle!" cried Callisto. "Besides, it's such a smallthing--"
Gabrielle interrupted. "Why? Why should I assist the woman who has destroyed so much of our joy?" Solan. Xena flinched imperceptibly at the memory.
"Because if you don't, with just a flick of my finger I could--" Callisto raised her long index finger and pointed it at Gabrielle.
Xena ran towards Gabrielle, grabbed her shoulders and pushed her out of danger. Then the warrior rose, sword in hand, and turned to face Callisto with death written in her icy blue eyes.
"Ah-ah!" exclaimed the blonde, with a twitch of her upturned index finger. "Why bother? Besides, you haven't heard the details of my favor," she purred, drawing out the words.
Gabrielle quietly got to her feet, brushing the dirt from her short Amazon skirt. She couldn't belive Xena had simply shoved her aside, not even giving her the chance to defend herself. She was an Amazon. She knew she was capable, and she had assumed the warrior knew it too. She pushed the scene into the back of her mind, however, and decided to bring it up later around the campfire--much later. She was not comfortable broaching the subject around Callisto. "All right," she stated cautiously. "Tell us."
"And make it good," snapped Xena. "I don't have all day."
"Oh, you'll have as much time as I say," the blonde snapped back. She slightly tilted her head towards the bard and lifted one thick dark eyebrow. The meaning was clear as glass.
"What do you want?" asked Gabrielle in a bitter voice. She gazed at the fair warrior, who appeared curiously small--and vulnerable. "It must be big to warrant a trip out of oblivion," she added.
"Well, fairly," replied Callisto honestly. "I need you to convince Daphne of Arcadia to do something; she's not likely to agree with what I...I mean, what you suggest."
"Let me guess," Gabrielle stated, her voice dripping with sarcasm, a fact that made Xena both surprised and uneasy. "You want me to convince Daphne that Apollo's the catch of the day, and to set up housekeeping with the god?"
"Oh, very good!" exclaimed Callisto, clapping her hands a few times in mock delight. "But there's one wee little problem and Xena...I think you might have a clue as to what that problem is?" Her voice raised in question.
"Yes," Xena replied cautiously. "Daphne's a nymph."
"Yes," Callisto emphasized in precise, clipped tones. "A nymph."
Gabrielle was puzzled. “What does that have to do with...oh my gods.” Realization dawned on her. She turned to Xena with questioning eyes, and found warm sympathy in return. “That means...she’s taken the oath?”
“Mm-hmm,” Callisto blew a sigh. “Just my luck, mm?”
Nymphs were the daughters of Cybil, the moon-goddess. Separate from Artemis, she was older, yet still kin to her and of her. Followers of her order were known to be devout, all female, and sworn to keep to the waters and tread paths far from men. Nymphs were
not wholly aquatic, they were immortal beings of the tide and bank, staying near the shore, not of it or in it. They were frequently found sitting near small pools and streams, keeping silent or enchanting the lucky few who came across them with their watery melody, a faint echo that was carried on the wind, and always dismissed as a mirage, an illusion.
This was bad news for the three women, assigned to lure one of these creatures into breaking her oath, possibly facing punishment from Cybil herself. Gabrielle broke the silence that followed Callisto’s statement with one of her own. “Well, we’re just going to have to work together on this one.” The words left a sour taste in her mouth. Much as she disliked Callisto--hell, hatred would not be an inappropriate word--she knew they would have to rally together to accomplish this order from on-high.
She glanced over at Xena, who looked about as unhappy as she’d ever seen the warrior. A slight furrow creased her forehead, and the bard could tell she was grinding her teeth. She though in passing how bad this was for her; she’d have to try and train the taller woman out of that little habit one of these days. Bad enough she did it in her sleep...
Callisto caught the russet-tinged blonde staring at the warrior in deep apsorbtion, but dismissed the idea that followed. Couldn’t be, she thought. Then, turning her mind to more practical matters she asked, “So, Xena, how will you get us out of this little jam,
mm? Got any dazzling plans under that silky black hair of yours?”
Gabrielle looked at her sharply, but dismissed the idea that followed. Nah, she thought, she’s not her type. She took a quick breath. I hope.
Xena took Callisto’s inquiry at face value. “No, I don’t. But,” she added sarcastically,” any advice will be appreciated.” She sneered at the thin blonde, who simply smiled pleasantly in return.
“Ok,” Gabrielle piped up. “I’ve got an idea.”
“What?” replied Xena, breaking her eye contact with Callisto to turn and look at the young woman. She then realized how short she sounded. “What is it Gabrielle?” she asked in a slightly softer tone of voice.
The bard shifted her feet, lowering her soft green eyes to the ground, then lifting them to sparkle into Xena’s cool blue ones. “How about...” She leaned on tiptoe to whisper her suggestion into the tall woman’s ear. Xena’s brow furrowed, then her eyes widened and
she flashed the younger woman a delighted feral smile.
“Ok,” she told Callisto. “We’ve got a plan.” Gabrielle beamed in self-satisfaction.
“Well then...?” Callisto asked. “Do tell.”
Xena smiled smugly. “No.”
Callisto’s eyes burned. “No?” She drew a breath. How dare that little brat...
“No,” Xena clarified. “You do what I say, when I say it. That’s your part of the plan. If you don’t, back to oblivion for you...and none of Apollo’s promises of ‘eternal happiness’.” Callisto blinked in suprise at this unexpected bit of news. How did Xena...
“They all say that,” Xena informed her dryly. “Must be part of the Olympic Code; “If a you need a favor, promise a mortal ‘eternal happiness.’” she said mockingly. “Ares has tried that one on me a few times. Gets old. Oh, the wording’s different, but the meaning’s clear as a bell.” She turned towards the bedrolls and prepared to pack. “Coming?” she
tossed. Callisto just nodded her head mutely. Damn, she’s good, she mused in admiration.
Following a rather uncomfortable breakfast, during which they attempted to eat Gabrielle’s good rabbit while enduring Callisto’s stares and snide comments, Xena packed their supplies and loaded Argo for the trip to Arcadia. Nymphs were anything if homebodies, and she knew she could find Daphne there.
“I know, I know,” she murmered to the golden white-tipped mare, “she makes me uncomfortable too.” She glanced at Callisto. “But it’s gonna be all right, Ok?” The horse whickered and blew her hot breath into Xena’s ear, eliciting a smile from the taciturn
warrior. “Good girl,” she whispered, and patted Argo on the side of the neck.
She felt movement behind her and sighed. Callisto. She turned to face her, to find the fair woman standing with her arms crossed, shifted on one hip, staring at her with a crooked eyebrow. “What?” she snapped. She was tired of these little games Callisto liked to amuse herself with.
The blonde only smiled, and reached to stroke the mare. A wrist flashed out and jerked the offending hand back before it could reach the pale mane.
“Don’t ever,” Xena articulated, “touch my horse.” She remembered the wound Callisto had inflicted on Argo, back during the body-swapping mishap, and the psychological toll it had taken on her horse; it was months before the mare could trust her completely again.
Callisto demurred, perversly pleased by the attention she was receiving. “Fine,” she sweetly replied. “But if we’re going to be travelling all this way together, we need a truce.” Xena stared at her. “For just a while.”
Gabrielle’s mouth dropped open in shock. A truce? With Callisto? Now I know she’s crazy, she thought, shaking her head.
Xena rolled her eyes. “Forget it.” Callisto blinked innocently. “No.”
“Why not?” The blonde pressed. “I don’t want any hard feelings, hard words, or hard blows during this little excursion. I mean, it’s only fair...”
The bard jumped. “Fair? What do you know about fair?” Xena shot her a warning look, but it went unheeded. “All you have done since you appeared this morning was bring up the numerous heartaches you have caused, you knocked me unconcious, and got your
little digs in. Why should you expect fair treatment in return?”
During this rant she failed to notice the feral gleam that washed over Callisto’s dark eyes, or the dangerous tilt of the blonde warrior’s head. Xena stared daggers at her, and twitched her finger towards the chakram tied at her hip.
“Because,” Callisto rasped, “I asked.” She tilted her head to one side, then suddenly broke into an almost-charming grin. Gabrielle stood up and would have rushed her, but a look from her dark companion quieted her impulse.
Xena merely shook her head, and reached for Argo’s saddle that lay on the ground. Callisto anticipated her, picked up the saddle, and handed it over with a flourish. Hmm, though Xena, but kept the peace, and merely responded, “Thank you,” albeit with a
narrowed eye.
“You’re ever so welcome,” the blonde purred, eliciting a raised eyebrow from Xena and a hard stare from Gabrielle.
The bard cleared her throat, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “Umm...well, we better get going,” she said gingerly. “Daylight’s burning.” Ooh, bad choice of words, she winced internally.
“Burning...” Callisto frowned, then plastered a grin on her narrow face. “Yes...we can’t have that now, can we?” Xena sighed. Here we go again. “Of course, you’re very familiar with that now, aren’t you Xena? Yes,” she hissed softly, “quite familiar indeed.”
“Drop it Callisto,” Xena growled. “You proposed a truce, remember?”
“Do unto others, you mean?” the blonde smiled. “Well, if that were the case...”
Xena closed her eyes, went back to the burning. The mistake. The smell of smoke thickly clogged her nostrils, and the screams invaded her ears. Hearing the laughter of her men, and the screams of innocents, the scorch of flesh as it blackened and sizzled in the
humid air. She could almost see the small form standing alone in the center of the charred square, tears running down the pale face, eyes shadowed by indescribable pain, the single word, “Why?” lingering on her lips. She shook her head, trying to clear it of the memory.
Callisto eyed the tall dark-haired woman as she stared blankly into space, brow furrowed, obviously distressed, and smiled in satisfaction. Gotcha, my warrior princess, she thought smugly.
Gabrielle noticed Xena’s preoccupation, and Callisto’s smile, and cursed the blonde woman. Why torment yourself like that? she thought. You’re letting her win. She blew a sigh, rose, and walked to where her friend was, shooting the madwoman a heated glance, which was received with a flutter of eyelashes. She gently grasped Xena’s shoulder.
“Hey,” she said softly.
Xena glanced up from her reverie, and gave the young woman a warm smile. “Hey yourself,” she replied, punctuating the statement with a slight squeeze to the hand wrapped around her shoulder.
“You Ok?” Gabrielle asked quietly, answered by sparkling blue eyes and a quirk of the lips. Xena lowered her eyes to the ground, breathed in deeply, then exhaled. “Yeah,” she said, and lifted her eyes to the bard’s. “Thanks.”
Callisto witnessed this little interaction with a hidden smirk. Plain as daylight, she told
herself silently. A thought breezed past her, then died down. Never, she reminded herself.
Never again.
After saddling Argo and packing their equipment, the small party set out on the path to Arcadia. It was a cool spring day, mid-morning, and the peaceful stillness rang in the air, unshattered by sound of any kind, for two of the party were nervously keeping a watchful eye on the thin blonde warrior walking gaily beside them. Presently she spoke:
“You want know why I came here,” she said calmly.
It was a statement, not a question. The tall warrior and her short green-eyed companion looked askance at her. This was unexpected. Finally Xena replied cautiously,
"Yes, it did enter my mind. But your answer seemed simple, if unlikely.”
“Well--” Callisto began, but stopped short. Xena jerked her head up, then narrowed her eyes into icy thin slits and gave a lazy half-smile. She held her hand up for the others to pause.
“Marksmen,” she breathed harshly. Gabrielle’s veins chilled. “Twenty paces. Don’t move. Three in front, two on each side.” The bard relaxed. Only seven. Piece of cake.
The three women continued nonchalantly down the path for a few more yards, then without warning the dark warrior let out a piercing trill that startled the birds from the trees, launched herself into the air and gave a half-somersault ending in a backflip, landing on on sturdy branch just behind one of the men targeting them. Crossbow flying from his hands, he futiley attempted to block the kick aimed across his ribs, and was responded with a quick jab to the collarbone. Indescribably painful pressure welled in him, as he felt his life draining away, with a dim awareness of a tall figure standing over him. It spoke.
"I’ve just cut off the flow of blood to your brain. Tell me; who sent you and why?” The cold voice was laced with the knowledge of his imminent death.
He struggle for a few moments, then relented. “The warlord Casio has a ten thousand dinar bounty on your head,” he managed to spit out.
Gabrielle looked on with concern as Xena stood and walked a few steps around the prone figure. She should be used to this, she told herself, but...oh well, she thought with a sigh, comes with the territory.
“Where can I find this Casio?” Xena cooly flicked an eye towards the man. He shut his eyes in an effort to relieve the pressure. It didn’t help. “Two days’ walk from here,” he uttered, then rolled his head back. Xena quickly released the pinch. He drew a ragged
breath, and collapsed.
Drawing a breath, Xena brushed the dust from her leather bodice and dropped onto a nearby log. Gabrielle walked over to her side and slipped a comforting arm around the taller woman’s waist. “You ok?” she inquired softly.
Xena managed a wan smile for the bard. “Yeah. Don’t worry, I’m used to it,” she replied, a note of irony evident in her words.
Gabrielle sought those eyes and caught them, then circled Xena’s arm with her fingers. “If...”She hestitated, then smiled. “I’m here.”
Xena smiled back. “I know,” she replied quietly.
Callisto broke in. “Yes yes, all for one and one for all. But isn’t anyone the least bit concerned about the matter at hand?” She toyed nervously with her black leather skirt.
Xena rose in a single fluid motion, and turned to face Callisto. “We’re making perfectly good time, and we,” she motioned to herself and Gabrielle “are only human. But that’s right,” she murmered, her eyes narrowing into icy slits. “You’re a god. So why
don’t you just take us there, instead of taking the long way?”
“That’s right,” Gabrielle chimed in.
Callisto flashed them both a predatory grin. “Because,” she stated emphatically. And gave no other reason.
Gabrielle sighed in frustration. Another wild goose chase, she thought. Perfect. She
turned to Xena, but the tall warrior was facing away from both of them, her head cocked to one side. Listening. Waiting.
The bard was about to ask Xena what the matter was, when her own question was answered. “There’s a small stream, downwind.” She paused, Gabrielle waiting patiently. “A few small herons, there’ll be fish...” She shut her eyes in concentration, picking up scent. She grinned. “And sassafrass. You up for tea tonight, Gabrielle?” She did not bother to ask Callisto, both out of discomfort around the goddess, and from assuming
that, in such a state, Callisto would not find eating necessary.
“Certainly,” replied Gabrielle, glancing backwards at Callisto, who only offered a bland smile in return. “If that’s...alright with you.”
“It’s fine,” Callisto said, the same blank expression plastered on her features.
“Oh yeah,” Xena casually turned towards the slender blonde, “If you don’t mind.” She let a slight growl escape her tone.
That animated the goddess. “Not at all, Xeeenaah,” Callisto breathed, letting a wicked smile cross her face. The corner of the dark-haired warrior’s lips quirked. “Good,” she stated pleasantly--or as pleasantly as a leather-clad armored woman can. “C’mon, let’s get going. We’re an established target.”
“Established, perhaps,” Callisto said. “But not necessarily for long.”
Xena gave a half-turn towards the blonde and eyed her suspiciously. “What does that mean?” Gabrielle crossed to Xena’s side, folded her arms and gazed at Callisto with a twist on her lips and furrowed brow.
Callisto smiled patiently. “Well, having this little bounty does rather complicate matters now, hmm? And it would be ever so simple to just make it...disappear?”
"What’s your point, Callisto?” Gabrielle frowned. The blonde passed her an indulgent look, then continued.
“My point is, I could go on ahead and sort of...convince our little friend Casio to drop whatever he has against you, so we won’t have to worry about it anymore?”
“Convince?” Gabrielle said sharply. “More like murder.”
“However you might put it, Gabrielle, my main concern is for the group. I simply want to avoid any...incident that would endanger us.” She paused. “I’m sorry if you don’t feel that way.”
Gabrielle drew a quick breath, then calmly asked, “And what did you have in mind?”
Callisto ignored the bard. “So what I’m suggesting is for me to go on ahead to Arcadia--” Xena cut her off with a snort. The blonde warrior shot her a slitted glare, then continued-- “leaving you free to...take care of Casio.”
“You trying to get rid of us Callisto?” drawled Xena, lazily sharpening her sword. “If not, I’m sure we can think of a plan to subdue Casio--without the need for bloodshed” she remarked pointedly to Gabrielle, who smiled, content with the change she had inspired, “and still have more than enough time for your Daphne problem.”
Callisto grinned. “You have a plan?”
A twitched eyebrow was her only reply.
Arcadia, near the woods of Nepolitan. The Midsummer’s Gathering was to take place at the next quarter-moon, and Daphne was scheduled as an assistant to Priestess Echo. She had been growing concerned over her Priestess, who was spending more and more time
near the spring of Hybe, and there was growing rumor, much to Daphne’s dismay, that the reason was that a fine-looking man frequented the waters there. Of course it was all nonsense, and she believed better of her Priestess, but still--
“Daphne!” a voice cried. She glanced up, startled out of her reverie. It was only her sister claive Ilione. She blew a soft sigh, surprising herself with this show of nervousness. Certainly it was her first time assisting in Gathering ceremonies, but...All right, she admitted with a wry smile. You have every right to be nervous. It’s new. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and...
“Daphne, if you haven’t forgotten it’s time for the bell-ringing? High Lady Echo will be very disappointed if you do not join.” Ilione broke into her thoughts.
Daphne’s duties as a claive were simple. Claives were rather like ladies-in-waiting to the Priestess; less formal perhaps, but no less important. They assisted in all manner of ceremonies; did basic housekeeping; rang morning, noon, and eve prayer bells; and kept slight guard. At this moment, her presence was requested at the thrice-daily bell-ringing
ceremony. She mildly disliked the duty, but it was necessary to pay homage to Mother Cybil, sending their blessings forth and swearing undying loyalty and love to the Great Goddess. Daphne jumped to her feet, smoothed her robes and walked down the path to
the Temple.
Ilione fell into step beside her. “So, how goes thy way ?” she asked conversationally.
Daphne allowed a wry smile. “Fair well, and thee?” she joked mildly, using the old form that they would often slip into their confidences. The two had become fast friends after a girlhood prank involving honey, a ladder, and a cranky old rooster. The punishment
had been harsh but, as they agreed later on, well worth it.
“Aye,” Ilione replied. There was a pause, then-- “So you’re seeing to the new raising?” The Sisters had needed a new roof on the Temple for the past two winters. The old one leaked, they complained to the Priestess, and rotted the enclosed maple walls. They had finally scraped together enough spare dinars for a new one, although Priestess Echo was just holding her breath for something to interfere with their plans.
“Yes,” responded Daphne. She was rather looking foreward to the event. Not much had happened lately--although a Temple life could hardly be exciting--and this bit of color would be much appreciated.
Ilione looked at her friend in concern. Daphne was staring off into space with a blank, almost dreamy look on her face. If she didn’t know better... “Hey,” she said softly, shaking her Sister’s shoulder. "What’s up?”
Daphne turned to her with large, dark startled eyes, rather dazed. “I’m fine,” she muttered sleepily. She laughed a little. “I guess I should have taken my afternoon nap with the rest of you.”
Ilione stared into the dark pools, and squinted. The pupils were slightly dialated, but even. No concussion, her practical healer’s mind told her. “Well...all right,” she finally answered, reluctantly, “but be sure to go take one now.”
“Ok,” Daphne murmered dazedly. Ilione watched her go towards the sleeping quarters with a shake of her head. She chewed over possible causes for the symptoms, then dropped the idea. Daphne was probably just fine, she told herself. No need to get into a
sweat over sleepy eyes and inattention.
The rest of the order had gathered in the meeting house in preperation for the Gathering later that week. Ilione was rather looking foreward to it herself. Daughters of Cybil weren’t likely to get rowdy, but this was the closest they were allowed. A bit of live music--Harps and flutes more than likely, she added wryly--a very small bit of non-ceremonial wine, dancing and late hours...oh yeah, about the closest we can get to an orgy, she thought with amusement. Then her concience struck her, and she bit back a most unDaughterly grin as she reached the steps of her cabin.
The cabin was light and airy, with pale blue and white muslin gracing the windows, giving the room a transitional feel, as though the inhabitant was merely staying for a time, ready to pack in a hurry if need be. But it was just the opposite; Ilione had lived in this cabin a good portion of her life, since she was ten, in fact. She and the other claives simply
preferred the tidy appearance of the identical cabins, and they were encouraged in their habits by the Priestess.
There was enough in the cabin to keep her comfortable, and that was all she or the others wished. A moderate-sized bed lay against the righthand wall, flanked on one side by a small oak night-stand. Her cream-colored dresser stood kitty-corner to the bed, topped with a mirror swinging gently on its easel, throwing brilliant patterns against the opaque
walls. Her footfalls sounded softly off the rich wood boards crisscrossing the floor as she walked over to the night-stand containing the evening’s prayer scroll. She lifted the yellowed parchment from its resting place, and quietly left the cabin.
Making her way down to the Temple, she paused over the bridge dividing the living grounds from the general halls. Glancing across the smoothly rippling waters, she took in the peaceful serenity apparent in the glassy translucent waves curling over the shore. She drew a deep breath, savoring the crisp spring air and watched the small drab ducks dabbling in the water. She smiled. This, she thought, is life as Cybil made it.
A voice called, and she hurried on to the temple with the scroll. The folds of her long pale gown trailed behind her, nearly tripping her, before she caught it with expert hands. She brushed a speck of dust off of it prior to entering the Temple, and composed her slender hands with their long fingers before her waist in the manner appropriate to the
solemn ceremony she assisted in, but the sparkle in her eyes betrayed her mind.
At the altar, Ilione and two other claives formed the Holy Circle with the High Priestess, symbolizing the cycle of life, and death, that they and all others partook of. It was only natural, after all, that having been given life by their Mother, they should honor the land She created, and respecting Her wisdom in giving and taking life. All involved in the ceremony believed that, in their heart of hearts, and celebrated Her in both a joyous and somber manner, as befit Her.
One of the claives accompanying Ilione was performing this particular duty for the first time, and was anxious over her fulfillment of the ceremony. The others had assured Wisthra, the newest claive, beforehand that there was nothing to be concerned about, it was simple and whatever she did would honor Her, but the careful soothing did nothing to inhibit the gnawing worry eating at her gut.
Despite Wisthra’s concerns--and an awkwardly timed dropping of incense--the bell-ringing went well, and all were looking foreward to the night-after-next raising; rumors flew that Priestess Echo herself would assist in setting the walls, and the High
Lady did nothing to discourage them.