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Chapter Text

In a time of ancient gods… warlords… and kings, a land in turmoil cried out for a hero. She was Xena and her children were at that moment playing a game of war. Solan brandished his stick at his sister Eve, who dodged around Argo’s flank. The palomino snorted and flicked Eve’s cheek with her tail.

            “Eve, no fair, Argo’s a neutral civilian!” Xena was teaching Solan tactical language and “civilian” sounded important to him.

            “But Argo’s a girl and we decided boys against girls so she’s on our side,” argued Eve. “Aren’t you, girl?” She patted Argo’s neck and Argo turned her head to gently push Eve to the ground with her muzzle. “Hey!” Argo returned to grazing.

            Solan advanced carefully around the horse while Eve hopped to her feet. She peered over Argo’s pricked ears at the hillock behind Solan. She grinned.

            Without a sound, Xena’s youngest child launched her tiny body onto Solan’s back and drew her short stick across his throat. “I win!” She latched onto her older brother as he pretended to collapse under her slight weight and died in the most dramatic way possible.

            “Ohhh, Lexa… you got me… you got me… I’m dead uugggghhh….” groaned Solan.

            Lexa positively beamed. The runny mud she had spread around her eyes like war paint cracked with her smile, and the gaps between her teeth appeared. Solan opened one eye. He rolled over quickly, toppling Lexa from his back.

            “Oh no! The dead are rising to take their revenge! Vengeance! Vengeance on the living!” He tickled her mercilessly. Lexa squealed and flailed against his touch. She pushed his hands away only for Solan to redouble his efforts.

            “Solan! Solan stop I’m gonna pee! I’m gonna pee!” Lexa laughed and squirmed. Eve tackled Solan from the right off the youngest and the pair wrestled while Lexa pulled herself up with Argo’s bridle. Argo gave Lexa an affectionate nuzzle and nudged her back toward her siblings. Solan had managed to roll Eve off his back and was now sitting on her head.

            “Ouch! Gross! Get off me! Solan, I’m telling mom!”

            “Death to Livia, the Bitch of Rome!” cried Solan.

            “Solan, stop it, you’re hurting her!” Lexa pulled his arm but Solan was too big for her to budge.

            “Solan!” Xena’s commanding voice cut through their noise. Solan’s face turned bright red as the Warrior Princess lifted him by the scruff of his neck off Eve, who sat up gasping. Lexa scurried over to Eve and hugged her sister’s arm.

            “I leave for five minutes to look for your mother and I come back to you fighting. You told me you had this,” Xena addressed her horse sternly. Argo snorted and Lexa could have sworn she saw the palomino roll her eyes. Xena set Solan down and squatted to address the youngest. “Sweetheart, what did you do to your face? I told you mommy’s meeting us today and she’s bringing a guest and we gotta look nice for her.” Gabrielle had been away to Poteidaia for a few days to visit her sister, and her youngest cousin wanted to tag along for the summer’s adventures.

            “It’s war paint, Mama,” said Lexa.”We were playing war and it was fun until Solan wrecked it.”

            “You look like a raccoon, baby,” said Xena. She ignored the icy shudder that ran down her arms and spine—her children were too young to know what war really meant.

            Lexa scowled. “It’s war paint,” she insisted.

            “We were being gentle, honest,” Eve interrupted.

            “And Solan was sitting on your head when I came back. I don’t want you playing war for a while, okay? It’s not a game and it’s certainly not fun.” All three heads slumped toward the ground.

            “C’mere, you,” Xena said. She scooped Lexa into her arms and licked her own fingers. She smudged the dirt just enough for it to streak down Lexa’s cheeks. Lexa scrunched her face and squirmed out of the way.

            “No! I worked so hard on that!”

            “Lexa, come here and let me wipe that off. You’re gonna get dirt in your eye.”

            “No, I’m the commander and this is what commanders look like for battle!”

            Xena sighed and threw up her hands. “Fine. You want to be commander, be commander.” She looked out over Argo’s back. “They’re here.”

            Gabrielle was leading a pair of horses down the trail from Poteidaia. On the back of the grey pony was a young blonde girl who held onto the saddle horn and seemed to be second-guessing her decision to ride. She looked sick, Lexa noted. Eve and Solan ran to meet Gabrielle and hugged her around her middle. Gabrielle let the unburdened horse go to Argo and hugged them back with her free arm. She lifted her traveling companion from the pony and set her on the ground. The girl edged behind Gabrielle’s legs while Gabrielle introduced her to Solan and Eve.

            Xena and Lexa crossed the short distance to meet them. Xena kissed her wife, and Lexa rocked back and forth on her toes while she watched the girl, who peeked back at her. Gabrielle scooped up Lexa and hugged her tightly.

            “How’s my little Amazon, huh?” Gabrielle kissed Lexa’s cheek.

            “Commander, Mommy,” said Lexa.

            “Oh, I’m sorry, Commander. Your war paint looks good—did Mama help you?” Gabrielle kissed Lexa’s forehead. Lexa didn’t answer, but instead peered down at the girl behind Gabrielle’s legs. Gabrielle murmured in her ear, “You wanna meet her?” She set Lexa back on the ground. “Lexa, this is Clarke.”

            “Hello,” said Lexa, and extended her hand.

            Clarke blinked and tucked her chin close to her chest. She fidgeted her feet, but took Lexa’s forearm. “Hi,” she said.

            Lexa tilted her head. “Do you want to play?”

            “That’s a good idea,” said Gabrielle, and she gently nudged Clarke toward Lexa.

            Eve and Solan had commandeered the pony, and were trotting in a wide circle around them. Lexa took Clarke’s hand. “Come on.”

            Xena pulled Gabrielle close. “I missed you.”

            “Oh, please. I was gone for two days.”

            “I heard Draco was sniffing around. Did he give you any trouble?” Xena asked, and she tilted Gabrielle’s chin up toward her.

            “Nothing I couldn’t handle,” said Gabrielle. She handed back the balanced chakram, and Xena replaced it on the hook at her hip. There was a thin scratch over Gabrielle’s left eyebrow, which Xena examined, traced with a fingertip. “Xena, I’m fine. Draco did what he always does when he hounds me. The flowers and the coercion, followed by the whole ‘if you don’t marry me, I’ll make you love me,’ sort of thing, complete with the bumbling horde.” Xena frowned. “You’d think he’d figure out that I don’t really live in Poteidaia anymore.”

            “You’d think he’d figure out that you’re married to me by now, anyway,” said Xena.

            Gabrielle laughed. “I don’t think Cupid’s magic really works that way. Though,” she said, “I don’t think even Aphrodite’s spells last this long? How long has it been since the arrows?”

            “Beats me,” said Xena. Time was a relative construct, and though it had been several years since their adventures with and against the gods, the actual numbers outside of their children’s ages didn’t seem to matter. Xena kissed Gabrielle again, and Gabrielle responded enthusiastically.

            “I should leave you alone with the kids more often, huh?”

            “It’ll be harder to keep track of four,” said Xena. She looked at Clarke and Lexa, who had seated themselves across from each other a short way off. “Is Clarke ready for this kind of journey? She seemed rather timid.”

            “She’s usually quite independent at home. Outgoing and friendly. She doesn’t stand for bullies in town. Lila told me she actually beat a couple of them. But otherwise, she cares for the sick and wounded.”

            Clarke was looking very seriously at Lexa, who was showing her the toy sheep that Gabrielle had passed down to Solan and Eve, and finally to her. Xena and Gabrielle watched the pair. Lexa seemed to be doing all the talking, and Clarke nodded seriously every few minutes.

            “That’s the quietest I’ve ever seen Clarke,” Gabrielle added. “I’m sure she’ll relax more once we get going.” Xena nodded slightly and Gabrielle balanced on her tiptoes to kiss Xena’s jaw. “By the way, I missed you, too.”

            “This sheep used to be Mommy’s, but she gave it to Solan, and then Solan gave it to Eve, and then Eve gave it to me.” Lexa pulled the tail and the sheep gave a strangled “baa.” “…It’s a little old,” conceded Lexa. She handed the sheep to Clarke, and Clarke traced the polished wooden curls of wool.

            “It’s beautiful.”

            Argo plodded over to the girls, and grazed beside Lexa. Clarke scooted backward a little. Startled, Lexa looked at Clarke. “It’s alright. Argo’s gentle unless some warlord wants to hurt us. Here,” she said. Lexa patted Argo’s cheek. “See? Nothing to worry about.” Clarke wasn’t fazed. Argo munched the grass placidly. Clarke shook her head, and Lexa’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Argo had been a part of her life for as long as she could remember, and it felt wrong for anyone other than an enemy to dislike her. She got an idea. “Wait here,” she told Clarke, and ran over to the campsite, where bedrolls and furs had been laid around a fire pit. Lexa rooted in one of the bags and returned to Clarke and the horse with an apple and a small knife in hand.

            Argo was snuffling Clarke’s hair, and Clarke was petrified as the horse’s lips brushed the crown of her head. “She just wants to get to know you, Clarke,” said Lexa in a matter-of-fact voice. This was not a comfort to Clarke, who could only make the tiniest squeaking noise. Lexa thought she saw tears in her friend’s eyes, so she held up the apple, bright red mottled with brown and pink. “Here, Argo. Leave her alone. She’s not ready for that yet.” Argo’s ears pricked, though she patted Clarke’s head once more with her nose. “Come on, girl. Let her be.” Argo walked toward Lexa and Lexa sliced a bit of apple, which she laid flat in her hand. The horse lipped the fruit from Lexa’s hand and nosed her for more. Lexa backed up slowly and Argo followed, so she gave her another morsel. “Good,” she said. “Clarke’s not ready to play just yet, but maybe we can show her you’re okay.” Argo nodded and stretched her neck toward the apple. Lexa carefully slid the knife into her belt and held the apple behind her back. “Not yet. Stay,” she said. Argo nickered and nipped at Lexa’s hair. “Hey, stop that. I’ll give you the rest soon, just stay here a second.”

            She rejoined Clarke. “Are you okay? Argo won’t hurt you, I promise. Argo doesn’t hurt family.” Clarke nodded, though silent tears spilled over. “Oh no, I’m sorry. Please don’t cry, Clarke. We really like you, you know. I don’t get to make new friends very often.” Lexa paused. “Well,” she said, “I do because we travel so much but I don’t get to keep them for long.” Lexa patted Clarke’s shoulder. “It’s okay. I promise it’s okay.” Lexa rubbed her back. “Do you wanna see something cool?” Clarke sniffled and nodded a little.

            Lexa sliced more bits of the apple, which she placed in Clarke’s lap. She did her best to whistle, but couldn’t, and she blushed a little when she noticed Clarke watching her. So she settled for calling Argo’s name, and the palomino came trotting over, though Lexa made sure to keep Argo a safe distance from Clarke. Lexa smiled as Clarke’s eyes widened and Argo sank to her knees in as graceful a bow a horse could manage. Argo reared and shook her head up and down, trotted in place, and finally approached them. Lexa tossed the apple core to Argo, and Argo caught it. She stopped a few feet from Clarke, and Lexa held the reins.

            “She knows you have apples in your lap and she wants the apples, but she won’t come near if you don’t want,” said Lexa, and Argo snorted. “Will you?” she asked sternly, and Argo nickered again, as though she were laughing at Lexa. She stretched her neck toward Clarke, but Lexa pulled her back with all her weight. “No, Argo, she has to say yes first.”

            “My horse isn’t a trick pony, you know,” Xena called from afar, amused.

            “That’s how you trained her,” Gabrielle reminded her.

            Argo pulled at Lexa’s grip, but Lexa dug her heels into the ground. She looked at Clarke, who quietly said, “Okay.” The horse tossed her head, sweeping Lexa off her feet, and dragged the girl with her to Clarke. Argo lowered her head and nibbled pieces of apple from Clarke’s lap, and Clarke timidly petted her snout. Argo blinked and finished eating. She nuzzled Clarke’s cheek with her velvety nose, ruffled Lexa’s hair, and departed. From her position lying on the ground where Argo had deposited her, Lexa thought she saw Clarke give a small smile.

Chapter Text

Nightmares too often plagued Lexa’s sleep. For as long as she’d been with Xena and Gabrielle, nearly every night Lexa woke up screaming. And who could blame her, really? Xena would murmur once Lexa had settled between her and Gabrielle and drifted back to sleep. They had found her wandering in the burning rubble of her home village, which had been decimated by a warlord. Her chubby little legs toddling over chunks of stone and cinders, dirty and sobbing, Lexa had hidden in an overturned cart when she saw Xena and Gabrielle approach. A much younger version of Callisto, Xena commented then. They couldn’t leave her there, even if they wanted. Xena left to scout the rest of the village for survivors while Gabrielle coaxed the child out of hiding.

            “Hey there, kiddo. It’s really scary out here, huh?” The bard seated herself across from the cart. Lexa’s little head peeked around at Gabrielle and large green eyes leaked tears down her sooty face. “My name’s Gabrielle. What’s yours?” Lexa shook her head. “That’s okay, you don’t have to tell me. Are you hungry?” Gabrielle took a biscuit from her pack and held it out to Lexa, who eyed it, but wouldn’t budge.

            “It’s okay, I’m not gonna hurt you. My friend’s name is Xena. She’s gone to look for your parents and other survivors. It’s just you and me here, no mean warlords. You can come out.” The child sniffled and scooted around the corner of the cart. She stopped halfway between her hiding place and where Gabrielle was sitting. Her eyes darted down to Gabrielle’s boots, where her sais were sheathed. Gabrielle noticed.

            “I can put those where they can’t hurt you—would you like that?” The girl nodded and Gabrielle placed her sais out of arm’s reach, but close enough to grab if any warriors came back. “There, nothing will hurt you. You’re safe now, I promise.” Lexa toddled closer to Gabrielle, took the biscuit and wolfed it down. “That’s it. Do you like stories? I have some good stories to tell you while we wait for Xena to come back.”

            By the time Xena returned to quietly report there were no other survivors, Lexa had fallen asleep in Gabrielle’s lap to the story of Prometheus.

            “Her name’s Lexa. She can’t be more than two years old,” said Gabrielle, stroking the child’s hair. “She’s been out here for a couple days, but nothing she won’t recover from.”

            “She’s got a tough road ahead of her, then,” said Xena. “Everyone she knows is gone. Dead or sold as slaves. Thank Eli she survived this long.”

            Gabrielle rested her cheek against Lexa’s forehead. Fingers in her mouth, Lexa snuffled and pressed closer to Gabrielle’s chest. “Maybe we can make it easier for her.”

            “Gabrielle…”

            “Xena, we can’t have another Callisto, you said it yourself. We can take her to Cyane’s tribe—they’re less than a day from here. Solan and Eve won’t mind staying a little longer in Amphipolis.” Xena crossed her arms. “Please,” said Gabrielle. Lexa stirred.

            “Alright, we can take her to the Amazons. Then we leave for Amphipolis,” said Xena. She mounted Argo and Gabrielle handed her the still-sleeping child.

            Once they arrived in Cyane’s village, Lexa seemed to take to the Amazon ways quite easily, but she wouldn’t leave Gabrielle’s side for very long. With the other young girls, she would play with sticks and paint and chase some of the village dogs, but she always stopped within a few minutes to make sure Gabrielle wasn’t too far away. Lexa marveled at the Amazon’s shields and chobos, the ceremonial masks and totems and dances, but if she strayed too far from Gabrielle, she ran right back and held tight to the bard’s skirt or leg. Not that Gabrielle minded much; she played enabler to Lexa’s need for her affection every time, which only reinforced Lexa’s attachment. Once Gabrielle had picked up the child yet again on their third day, Xena suggested they should leave. Lexa clung tighter to Gabrielle and buried her face in the bard’s neck, whimpering.

            “It’s okay, little one. We’re not going anywhere for a while,” Gabrielle soothed. “Xena, this won’t work. She likes it here, but I can’t seem to sneak away for very long. It’s uncanny how she always knows where to find me.” Lexa sucked her fingers and closed her eyes contentedly.

            “Yeah, it’s a real wonder since you won’t let her out of your sight, Gabrielle,” Xena retorted. Lexa opened her eyes to look at Xena. Then she did something Xena never forgave: Lexa reached for the warrior princess and before Xena knew it, she was holding the child while Gabrielle looked on smugly.

            “I guess that’s settled, then,” said Gabrielle. And it was.

            Lexa’s eyes snapped open, jolted awake by a dream that Xena and Gabrielle had been stabbed to death before her eyes. The faceless man who had killed them turned toward her, blood dripping down his chin, before she woke, terrified. She whimpered into her bedroll, the warm, bristly fur drying her tears. She glanced around the campsite, making sure none of them had been stabbed. The fire had long since died to hot glowing coals, and everyone else was sleeping nearby. Across from her were the piles of furs that bedded a snoring Solan, and to his right slept Eve. Xena and Gabrielle nestled together closest to Lexa, and Clarke… Clarke was huddled alone a bit further away in the dark, shivering. Lexa frowned and crawled over to her friend. She poked her, and Clarke rolled over to face Lexa. She hadn’t slept at all, it seemed; her eyes were wide and alert.

            “Hey. You should come closer to the fire, you’ll catch cold.”

            Clarke propped herself on her elbows and looked down. “I don’t belong here.”

            “Sure you do,” said Lexa. “You’re a part of our family, you should act like it.” She pulled Clarke’s arm and dragged her to where Xena and Gabrielle lay. Lexa picked her way over their legs and squeezed her way between them until Gabrielle shifted enough so Lexa had room. Lexa looked at Clarke, who was still standing, hugging herself.

            “Come on, they don’t mind. You need to get warm,” Lexa whispered. Clarke hesitated. Lexa popped back up, grabbed Clarke’s hand, and pulled her down. Clarke stumbled a little, but slowly wedged herself between Lexa and Xena and snuggled close. Shyly, she wrapped her arms around Lexa and gradually stopped shivering, Xena’s warm bulk at her back. Her breath slowed until Clarke was asleep, and Lexa rested her chin on Clarke’s head, lulled by her proximity. An unconscious Gabrielle threw her arm over the pair, gripped Xena’s leather, and all was still.

Chapter Text

Lexa is asleep on Clarke’s chest, one arm splayed across Clarke’s stomach, the other arm wrapped tightly around her. Clarke is stroking Lexa’s hair and humming softly, and Lexa’s breathing is measured and calm for once. She hasn’t had a decent night’s sleep since she ascended the throne in Gabrielle’s tribe while the bard and Xena continued their travels abroad. Lexa had grown weary of travel, and sharing Gabrielle’s rite of caste with Eve—who didn’t want the Amazon ways as she used to—it was her turn to rule. Hadn’t she dreamed of commanding legions when she was a child? Clarke gently traces the tattoo on Lexa’s arm, the straight lines and circles down her back, and Lexa shifts, still sleeping.

            Outside the tent, Amazon morning routines are beginning, fires are lit, and warrior women are stretching. Clarke rests her nose in Lexa’s hair, closes her eyes. Lexa gives a small, vocal sigh, lucid, and kisses Clarke’s chest. She hugs Clarke tighter, with both arms now. Thin streams of light funnel into the tent through tiny holes in the fabric, sprinkled across Lexa’s bare back like so many stars on her tan skin. Outside, someone yelps when a dog overturns a rack of spears onto her foot, and Lexa jumps at the noise. Already, she has seized the knife from beside the bed and faced the tent’s entrance, which is vacant. She is wild-eyed, breathing harder.

            “Lexa, Lexa, hey, it’s alright.” Clarke rests her warm hands on Lexa’s lean, tense arms. “It’s okay.” Lexa’s arms fall, but she still grips the knife’s handle until her knuckles pale. Clarke slides her hands down Lexa’s arms and she feels every muscle relax. She reaches the hand holding the knife and that, too, relaxes enough for Clarke to pull the knife away, Lexa’s fingers unraveling one by one from the handle. Clarke sets the knife back where it had been when Lexa seized it, and she slowly wraps her arms around Lexa from behind. The commander melts into Clarke’s touch and allows Clarke to guide her back under the blankets.

            “You’d think after all this time I wouldn’t startle so easily,” Lexa grumbles, her cheek rested against Clarke’s shoulder.

            Clarke smooths the blanket and kisses Lexa’s hair. “You were half asleep, love. Everyone startles easily like that.”

            Lexa makes another displeased grumble, and buries her face against Clarke’s neck. Clarke kisses her hair again and reaches for Lexa’s hand. Automatically, Lexa’s fingers curl around Clarke’s, and she brushes Clarke’s knuckles with her thumb. It’s quiet for a while, and both of them watch the flecks of sunlight travel down their legs, over the blanket. Clarke lets go and traces the lines and callouses in Lexa’s palm. A thin, puckered line slashes through the rest, long since healed and scarred, never quite covered by the callouses earned with a sword or staff. Clarke remembers this scar. Lexa closes her eyes, lulled by the sound of air spiraling into Clarke’s lungs and the feeling of her gentle touch. She remembers, too. The sounds of the waking Amazon camp grow louder, but they don’t need to stir just yet. For now, they can rest.

            Everyone woke for breakfast around the same time on the second week of Clarke’s visit. They were a day’s walk from Athens, where Gabrielle would give a reading of her scrolls. (Her writings now included the antics of the children, much to popular delight.) Xena proposed fish for breakfast, and Lexa tagged along to the nearby stream. She had yet to master her mother’s fishing techniques, and her hands were too small to catch the larger trout and salmon. Lexa tugged Clarke’s sleeve.

            “Come on,” she said, and Clarke followed.

            Ahead, Xena was lecturing, “Now I know you can do it this time, Lexa. Fish like to hide in the secluded places and you need to be quiet and wiggle your fingers just right…”

            Clarke paused every so often to pluck wildflowers, which she tucked into Lexa’s hair when Lexa wasn’t looking, intently listening to Xena’s advice. A stem brushed too close to Lexa’s ear and when she scratched a little, petals fell. Clarke stifled a snicker behind her hands. Xena peered over her shoulder at the two, and gave Clarke a small smile. They arrived at the stream, and removed their boots. Xena waded in up to her knees while Clarke and Lexa watched from the shallows. Cool water flowed over their feet, which they greatly appreciated, as the morning sun had already begun to scorch the tops of their heads and shoulders.

            “Heads up, girls!” Xena cried, and a fish came flying from her hands. Clarke’s eyes widened as Lexa caught it by making a basket of her shirt. The next fish hit Clarke in the face and landed at their feet with a thin splash. The water was just deep enough for it to swim away, and Clarke ran after it, tumbled onto her stomach, and just missed as the fish sped into deeper water. Lexa laughed when Clarke returned, soaked and sulking, and Clarke resolved to catch the next one, which she landed in the fabric of her shirt as Lexa had. The young trout flopped and slapped against her chest and stomach until it was finally still. They took turns catching Xena’s flying fish, piling the slick bodies on the shore until Xena called them over. Clarke rolled up her pants despite being thoroughly wet, but Lexa sloshed right over to her mother.

            While the water was merely knee deep for the warrior princess, it rose to Lexa’s mid thigh. Clarke waded to meet them, and all three stared intently at the water. Xena touched Lexa’s shoulder and pointed to a wavering shadow that slithered closer to them under the surface. Lexa crouched without a sound. The shadow slid closer and the stream split and spilled around their legs, making a hushing sound. Clarke held her breath.

            Lexa’s arms shot out to seize the fish, splashing Clarke and Xena in the process. She felt her fingertips just miss the slippery sides and scales, and dove in after it, a spray of foam shooting up behind her. Lexa snatched again, hard, and her hands closed around the fish’s body. The fish thrashed and started to slide out of Lexa’s grip until she was just hanging on to the base of its tail. Lexa’s feet scrabbled at the sand and gravel of the streambed until she found secure footing against a deeply lodged rock. She pushed off the stone, dragging the struggling fish backward and into the air with her and she felt Xena’s hands under her armpits so she wouldn’t fall back underwater. The fish gasped and flailed out of the water, and Lexa gave a triumphant yell.

            “I did it! Did you see me? I did it!” Dripping, she held up the perch to Xena, who chuckled with approval.

            “You certainly did, kiddo. You sure showed him.” The fish stopped struggling and finally gave one last shudder and died.

            “Clarke, look at my fish!” Clarke admired the yellow-green body and black stripes that Lexa waved before her face. “You wanna try catching one?”

            “I don’t know if any will come back for a while since we made so much noise with the last one,” said Xena, scanning the water. “But next one’s yours, Clarke.”

            They waited a while longer, and just when Clarke thought all the fish had been scared away, another shadow appeared close to her knees. She was just about to seize the fish when Xena grabbed her bodily from the water and carried both Clarke and Lexa out of the stream under each arm. A blade whizzed through the empty air where Clarke had been standing only seconds before, and Xena deposited the girls on the shore.

            “Find a place to hide,” she commanded, and charged across the stream into the trees on the far side.

            Lexa pulled Clarke’s arm and they fled in the opposite direction until they found a bush, and they scrambled under it. They curled as small as possible against each other, the sounds of Xena’s battle cries and crashing metal just loud enough to hear. The flowers Clarke had surreptitiously woven into Lexa’s hair had either fallen out in the stream or hung in soggy tatters about Lexa’s ears. A few leaves from the bush had tangled themselves into both of the girls’ hair. They waited with bated breath until they heard heavy footsteps. Clarke stifled a gasp when they saw ragged leather boots pass by their hiding place. She didn’t notice Lexa’s absence from her side until she saw smaller bare feet padding toward the owner of the boots.

            Lexa had hastily spread mud over her eyelids and temples. Her face steeled in a mask of rage, she approached the lone warrior, who held a long, thin dagger. She paced closer, silent as Xena had taught her. Within a few feet, she sprang onto his back, wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned all of her weight backward. It wasn’t enough to topple him, but he yelled in surprise and stabbed blindly over his shoulder. Lexa dodged, sank her teeth into his ear. She dug her thumbs into his eyes and the man screamed, sliced her palm with his knife. Lexa screamed, too, but recovered quickly and rubbed her blood into his eyes. She dropped to the ground and ran back to where Clarke was hiding.

            “Come on, he’s coming,” Lexa said, and Clarke crawled out of the bush. Bright blood dripped down Lexa’s fingertips, but Clarke took her hand anyway, and they ran back to the clearing where they had been fishing. The man crashed through the undergrowth behind them, cursing. Sticks and pebbles stabbed Clarke’s tender feet, but she ran to the water, Lexa right behind. Water splashed behind them and pulled at their feet, slowing their progress across. Lexa slipped halfway, landing face first in the water, and Clarke doubled back to help her when Xena’s chakram flew over their heads and buried itself in the man’s forehead before he could grab the back of Lexa’s shirt.

            Xena herself sprinted through the stream to Clarke and Lexa. She looked around for anyone else, but there was no one. The woods were still but for the trickling stream, and Xena looked down at the girls. She retrieved her chakram and shepherded them back to the bank, where their fish lay scattered. Xena knelt and looked them over for any signs of harm.

            “Lexa, your hand,” said Xena, carefully examining it. Blood still gushed through Lexa’s fingers. Lexa sniffled and finally started to cry. Xena scooped fresh water over the cut and pulled Lexa into a soothing hug.

            Clarke, shaken by the chase but none the worse for wear, didn’t like to see Lexa crying. She tore a piece of her shirt into a strip and took Lexa’s hand again. She wrapped it so tenderly, Lexa didn’t notice until Clarke had tied it off, stemming the blood flow with the blue fabric. Clarke kissed Lexa’s hand gently and joined Xena in hugging her.

            “There now, all better,” murmured Xena as she stroked Lexa’s back. “But I hope you realize when I say hide, I mean it,” she added with a slight edge to her voice.

            “I wouldn’t have to hide if you taught me how to fight,” Lexa said, hiccupping between words.

            Xena didn’t answer. She let go of her youngest and began to pile the fish into three neat stacks which she roped together, one rather larger than the other two.

            “I think you were very brave,” Clarke told Lexa later, once they had gathered fish and trooped back to the clearing where Gabrielle, Eve, and Solan had been breaking down camp.