General Disclaimer:
This is a fan fiction based on the television series Xena: Warrior Princess. All characters, locations, quotes, etc borrowed from the show belong strictly to the original creators and whomsoever holds the ultimate copyrights. There is no intention of copyright infringement or profit wherein this fan fiction is concerned. The remaining ideas, storyline, characters, etc are but a figment of my fevered mind and I will bear full responsibility for them.
Other Disclaimers:
Violence is inevitable and may even be overly graphic since a certain Warrior Princess is involved hence anyone who may be uncomfortable with such depictions are advised to avoid reading the stories.
The underlying theme for these stories is a loving consensual relationship between two adults of the same gender. There may also be scenes describing or hinting at sex between others of the same gender, different gender, different species, different tribes. Violent sex scenes may also make an appearance in these stories. Any person(s) uneasy with any of the sexual content above should leave this site now.
In the event that you are under the legal age wherever you may reside or it is illegal in your country to be exposed to any of the contents listed above, please do not proceed to read any of the stories herein.
Please note that I will not be responsible for any trauma resulting from a failure to heed any of my warnings above.
Author's Note: This excerpt is believed to have been written after Intimate Stranger.
My best friend– trapped in the body of my worst enemy… I wished I’d paid more attention, been more attentive… I wished I hadn’t shut Xena down when she tried to talk to me about her guilt over Callisto’s death. I wished I hadn’t added on to that guilt by shoving Perdicus’ death in her face.
In my defence, I was struggling… badly… I haven’t had time to process everything that had happened in the past few days, much less come to terms with anything. It’s not just the death of Perdicus… It’s also my uncharacteristic response– to him dying in my arms.
I am not a violent person, by any stretch of the imagination. I’ve always believed that peace and love would always triumph against hate and evil. It was I who told Xena that the cycle of hate could only be ended through love and forgiveness. I even made her promise that she would never become a monster if anything happened to me.
And yet, I was the one who turned into a monster– a monster who would stop at nothing until I had ripped out Callisto’s heart with my bare hands. Where were my principles and ideals at a time when I needed them most? How could I have been so willing to sacrifice everything and anything– even Xena– for the chance to avenge my dead husband? What
did it say about me? Or about my love for Perdicus?
I loved Perdicus. There can be no doubt of that. As a kid, he was just the perpetual hanger-on I would bully every opportunity I got. But as a man, he was everything I ever desired. He was gentle and kind; he had seen war, had killed, and yet he remained at heart who he had always been… A sensitive soul who should never have been exposed to all that bloodshed and suffering. In the end, it broke him. I– broke him. And he paid for it with his life…
How do I live with that? I feel responsible… He would still be alive if I’d never said yes. I wasn’t going to. I shouldn’t have. But when he turned to walk away, all dejected and heartbroken, I was seized by this overwhelming need to fix him, to undo the damage I had done to this wonderful wonderful man. He deserved to be happy. And, more importantly, he loved me. Ever since we were barely out of our swaddling cloths. And he wasn’t afraid to show it. Or admit it. Unlike a certain taciturn Warrior Princess I know.
In that moment, I had to say yes. And once I did, there really was no turning back. I tried so hard to convince myself that I’d made the right choice. All the while knowing that it wasn’t. I wonder if Perdicus realised what a sham our marriage was, in the exceedingly short time that it lasted. At a time when I should have been focused on my husband and our future life together, all I could think of– was Xena. I didn’t want to let her go… couldn’t let her go.
Perdicus was my first. I wasn’t his, of course. But I believe that he would have been pleased that I was his last. I want to believe that Perdicus died– happy. He had finally married the woman he had loved his whole life, made love to her, and died protecting her. The Perdicus I knew would have found that a fitting end to our story.
Perdicus was my husband. And I loved him. Xena is my best friend. And I love her too. But when I thought she was dead, I didn’t turn into a monster; I wasn’t focused on revenge, just focused on bringing her home to her brother. Why did Perdicus’ death affect me so differently than Xena’s? Did I love him more?
I believe the answer lies in what I staunchly believe– the cycle of hate can only be broken through the power of love and forgiveness. With Xena, I was driven by love to fulfill her dying wish. But with Perdicus, my feelings of guilt and anger overwhelmed any residual feelings of love I’d had for him. I could not forgive myself for the role I’d played in his death. Nor could I forgive Xena for her part. It caused me to fixate on avenging Perdicus. It was the only thing left for me to do. And I threw myself wholeheartedly into it. The more Xena tried to talk me out of it, the more my anger grew- towards her, towards myself, and towards Callisto.
I am glad I came to my senses when I did. Granted, I had put myself in an untenable situation. But I was ready to die. I felt that it was the only way I could atone for all my sins. Once I was dead, I would be able to ask Perdicus for forgiveness. Before you misunderstand me, that was my self-loathing talking. Death is never a solution. Nothing gets solved when you are dead, the problem just gets passed on to the next person.
I wasn’t kidding when I said this is such a mess. And it all started with me. We wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t agreed to marry Perdicus. Even setting that aside, I am the reason Xena felt compelled to let Callisto die. If our roles had been reversed, would I have felt more guilt running Callisto through with a sword, or doing nothing while watching her being slowly devoured by quicksand? It has to be the former. But for Xena, the former would be infinitely preferable to the latter.
The Xena of yesteryear would not have cared either way. But the Xena I know? Letting Callisto die without lifting a finger to help her goes against every letter of the code she now lives by. There was no threat to her or anyone. She could have saved Callisto. And she should have. Except I’d been guilt tripping her all day. Xena knew I wouldn’t be satisfied until Callisto was dead. So she let her die. As Callisto pointed out, it was murder, pure and simple. And Xena isn’t a murderer. It’s no wonder she was consumed by her guilt and Callisto was able to use it against her.
And now, here we are– my best friend trapped in the body of my worst enemy. I guess this is my punishment– to be reminded of my failures every time I set eyes on the one person I’d always looked to for positive reinforcement. If that’s how it has to be, so be it.
But I can’t help the visceral reaction I have whenever I catch a glimpse of those dirty blonde tresses and that black studded leather. Xena notices it. How can she not? But she’s always so understanding. And that look she gives me– so familiar yet so alien at the same time. It’s strange watching the features on Callisto’s face soften to the point where she seems almost kindly, and her lips inevitably curve into a smile. It’s a look I know very well. It’s the way Xena would look at me sometimes; the look that would set my heart all aflutter. Not right now though. I still can’t get past those once-murderous deep brown eyes.
I miss Xena’s striking blue eyes and her long black locks that would fly every which way whenever the winds blows. I miss her goofy playful grin and her gods-awful battlecry that would strike fear into the wicked and galvanise the weak. I miss being able to pick her out from a crowd just because she was head and shoulders above everyone else. I even miss her finicky ornate breastplate and the old sweat smell of her brown leather armour. Most of all, I miss the way she would gather me into her arms and tuck me under her chin. That was my safe place– my refuge.
It is my fervent wish that she would be reunited with her body soon, and not doomed to be trapped in there for the rest of her life. I hope we will get a chance to start over again… Because I have made up my mind. I am staying. Here. Right by her side.
If there’s anything Perdicus’ death has taught me, it’s that life is unpredictable. I made the wrong decision once and ended up with so many regrets. I don’t want Xena to be another.
I love her and I need to know if she is the one I have been searching for all my life. If my experience with Perdicus is anything to go by, I believe she is. I just need to find a way to coax her out of her shell. Maybe not now, while we are both still so raw and she’s stuck wearing Callisto’s body. But for her sake and mine, I hope it will be soon… Before it’s too late…
Meanwhile, no more falling in love at the drop of a quill or flirting with every cute guy I come across. Scratch that… A little harmless flirting never hurt anyone. Except– maybe Xena. I wouldn’t mind if she got all jealous though. That would certainly end up working in my favour.
Perdicus, my husband, my first; I will never forget you. Forgive me. I love you…