Categories > TV > Xena: Warrior Princess > Pebbles
55. Gift
14 December 2006
X/A – Ooh! Ooh! I've never tried a holiday fic before!
It was snowing, soft, fluffy-looking flakes drifting out of the pale grey sky before landing and disintegrating on Ares' tongue. He laughed and loped the rest of the way to stand before Xena.
"You know how you told me that you liked to catch snowflakes on your tongue when you were little? I think I like it too." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and ploughed on. "Anyway, I got you a Solstice gift." Ares fumbled with the pocket of his thick overcoat before producing the most evil-looking implement imaginable to mankind.
"That famous smith over in Thessalonica invented it recently. It's got fourteen blades, can cut through three men and their horses at fifty paces, there's this interesting serrated hook on a chain that does some nice tearing, it slices and dices, and that annoying blonde of yours can gut any fish with…" He trailed off under the withering silence.
At a loss for words, he fidgeted where he stood, and his smile, too wide to be real, faded slowly.
He sighed faintly, stepped forward, and gently placed the flowers in his other hand onto the grave.
"You know," he said, "it's hard. It's so hard. But… I think we're getting better. Gabrielle and I." He knelt and leaned his forehead against the cold stone. "I guess that's what you'd really want, anyway."
14 December 2006
X/A – Ooh! Ooh! I've never tried a holiday fic before!
It was snowing, soft, fluffy-looking flakes drifting out of the pale grey sky before landing and disintegrating on Ares' tongue. He laughed and loped the rest of the way to stand before Xena.
"You know how you told me that you liked to catch snowflakes on your tongue when you were little? I think I like it too." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and ploughed on. "Anyway, I got you a Solstice gift." Ares fumbled with the pocket of his thick overcoat before producing the most evil-looking implement imaginable to mankind.
"That famous smith over in Thessalonica invented it recently. It's got fourteen blades, can cut through three men and their horses at fifty paces, there's this interesting serrated hook on a chain that does some nice tearing, it slices and dices, and that annoying blonde of yours can gut any fish with…" He trailed off under the withering silence.
At a loss for words, he fidgeted where he stood, and his smile, too wide to be real, faded slowly.
He sighed faintly, stepped forward, and gently placed the flowers in his other hand onto the grave.
"You know," he said, "it's hard. It's so hard. But… I think we're getting better. Gabrielle and I." He knelt and leaned his forehead against the cold stone. "I guess that's what you'd really want, anyway."
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