fandomhigh | Library, Wednesday (2/16)

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Library, Wednesday (2/16)

It was a relief to get back to the quiet and normalcy of the library today, after everything; that was the theory, anyway.

It was just a little too quiet, and on those occasions where she found herself with nothing to do, Gabrielle took to going into the stacks and picking out armfuls of random books to read just for the sake of having to go back and reshelve them herself later.

. . . which didn't do too much about the quiet, but it kept her hands busy. That, at least, was something. Thank all the gods ever that she'd never been the type to waste precious parchment and ink on writing morose poetry, and wasn't about to start.

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"How can you even look at me now that you know what I've done?" Stop it, Gabrielle. That kind of intense self-pity does no one any good, and leads to being flogged with palm branches in an Amazon sweat hut. "My own part in all of this is enough of a burden."

Granted, as far as she was concerned her own part was inextricably linked with the rest.

"I don't even know where to begin to atone for this mistake."

Somehow he did not think telling her that she was perhaps being too harsh on herself would do much good at all.

"As is wont, you will find some way," he assured her, shaking his head. "It is not very hard to look at you. It may even be pleasant if I knew how to ease this for you."

"I have to find a way," Gabrielle agreed; the thought of her life without Xena in it was . . . well, unthinkable. "Somehow. Right now, it all just hurts too much."

It was a struggle, much more than usual, to find something positive to hold on to, but she did. "But -- I am glad you're here, and that you understand. It really does help."

"If your friend has any sense, then she will see as I have seen," he assured her. He sighed and let go of her shoulder, pulling her into a hug instead.

Gabrielle could have argued that he hadn't seen the look on Xena's face that night by the funeral pyres, but she doubted -- and this was why she liked Faramir -- that he'd let that deter him from his argument.

It was . . . a little like being hugged by Xena, if all wrong in some way she couldn't pinpoint, and with a little sniffle she wrapped her arms around him and just held on.

"I have to believe that, don't I?" she asked, and with a tiny, faint effort at a laugh added, "I don't think you'd let me not believe it."

"I am stubborn in these ways," he agreed with a chuckle, his arms tightening around her. "Do not doubt your friend."

"I don't doubt you, no," Gabrielle replied. Oh, look -- an attempt at a joke. "And I'll try to have faith in her too."

"Good. We, Men of Gondor, do not like being doubted," he said lightly, his arms eased around her but he did not cease the embrace.

Of course, that mostly was true for Boromir. Faramir had a long history of being doubted.

Not by Gabrielle, who wasn't likely to start doubting him any time soon. Did that help?

"I don't know any other men of Gondor," she told him, "but I wouldn't get on your bad side that way. I promise."

"You will be hard pressed to get me on your bad side any way," Faramir assured her. Which perhaps was one of his faults.

. . . unflawed people were boring anyway.

"I hope you don't mind," she said, patting his arm, "if I don't want to take you up on that challenge."

"No," he agreed with a chuckle. "I would prefer it if you did not. I do not enjoy being vexed at someone."

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Library, Wednesday (2/16)

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