fandomhigh | Library, Wednesday [11/30]

Gabrielle hadn't received word from home this week. Ordinarily that was little cause for concern; not even her Greece, strange as it was, could send correspondence with anything like the (more or less) reliable speed of the current era. This week, though, it had her fretting. Were her parents all right? Was Lila? Helen, wherever she was now? Salmoneus, Autolycus, Hower and Minya, Flora, Pandora, Joxer, her Amazons, Homer and the boys at the Academy, Hercules and Iolaus?

And Xena . . .

That was the one that really twisted her stomach with worry, even though she remained mostly convinced that no matter what this thing was, Xena could handle it. The what-ifs were just persistent enough that Gabrielle couldn't help imagining a world without the Warrior Princess in it.

Her life without Xena in it.

That was . . . unthinkable.

On one level, she was aware of how many people she'd met and learned to care about throughout the past several years of her travels. It wasn't until moments like now, though, that she realized just how many people there were, and the thought had her in a pensive but agitated mood.

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If that wasn't a storyteller's dream . . .

Gabrielle's eyes lit up. "I would be honored if you did. But first that means you have to make sure Minas Tirith is still around."

In other words, she actually did understand what the most important thing here was.

"I do," he moved his hand to her shoulder, squeezing gently. "And for that I should leave. It seems that they are keeping you on your feet here as it is."

"I still have feet to be kept on," Gabrielle pointed out with a slight smile. "But I shouldn't keep you, either. Take care of yourself, Faramir. I mean that."

"As long as you take care of yourself as well," he smiled at her as he stepped back. "You can laugh at me later if it turns out I can not make it back home. And otherwise, I shall miss you, my friend."

"I'll miss you too." Hopefully he wouldn't mind if Gabrielle just sort of clung for a moment before reluctantly letting go. "And if that happens I'll be laughing with you. Not at you."

Judging by the way his arms tightened around her in response, he probably didn't. But it was silly to try and hold on and he forced himself to smile.

"Namaarie. Aa' menealle nauva calen ar' malta," he spoke in Elvish. "Until next we meet." He bowed his head before he turned away.

Library, Wednesday [11/30]

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