The Blonde
by
Brigit
M. Morgan
You've
watched the show. You've loved the basic principle, the action, the
Relationship. You've read the fan fiction. You feel you *know* the characters.
Intricate,
complex as they may be, there are still the few basic truths, the tenets on
which everything is based; Xena is a marked woman,
stained by her past, beyond repair it seems. And Gabrielle -
her compass, the one true thing in the warrior's life, the guiding light.
Gabrielle, the quietly, doggedly noble human being.
Gabrielle, the one who unwaveringly remains true to herself and her beliefs,
her way of love, even when she is forced to defend herself and her loved ones,
even when she's cornered into taking a life. Especially
then.
Everyone
knows that much, right?
Well.
What if we
say that the same is true of Gabrielle - as far as Xena
is concerned? What if, for Gabrielle, Xena is
the one true thing in her life, her guiding light? We would not be off the mark
with that statement, correct?
What, pray
tell, do you think would happen to Gabrielle should the one true thing in her
life be erased then? Her guiding light extinguished? Can you imagine it? Would
you dare?
It's desolate
place to exist in. It's a wet towel pressed tight against your face and a slow,
crushing weight lowered on your chest. It is knowing
you are dead, decaying, and yet having to live out the entropy day by day. Death in installments.
It's all in
this story.
You won't
recognize this Gabrielle. You won't like this Gabrielle. You will mourn for
this Gabrielle, though she still lives. You will wish her dead, though you
still love her.
And most of
all, dear reader, you will want to strangle Brigit M. Morgan. Oh, I promise
you, you will - after you reach the last page and catch your breath. You will
want her to take back each and every silver-tongued word, each and every
anguish-scented scene and all that pain welling out from of every paragraph.
You might
have gleamed by now that this is not what we'd call in the business an 'easy
read'. Morgan has a soul of a cursed prophet and a tongue of a soulful muse and
such an ear for beauty. It would, really, be a pity to dispatch her, however
much she might deserve it. So, do read the story. And, instead of tracking her
down and dragging her behind your horse for a few (thousand) kilometers for
what she did to poor Gabrielle, just bitch a bit at her via email - she's
Canadian and is bound to be awfully apologetic about her talent.
Now go, and
enjoy.