"Gabrielle, we've got to make camp soon ... it's getting too dark to see."

Nodding her silent agreement, the shorter woman began setting up their camp in a protected hollow at the top of the ridge, near a solitary, leafless tree. Efficiently, she built a fire while her companion, clad in warrior leathers, left to hunt their dinner.

Usually, the evening hunt calmed and centered the warrior after the stresses of the day, but this evening, as in recent weeks past, she felt waves of unfocused anger and frustration break over her concentration. Finally, she paused on the downward slope of a little knoll and tried some meditation exercises to draw the anger out and release it dispassionately. She couldn't let it go completely, but it receded like a low tide into the deepest part of her heart.

Coming to herself suddenly, she worried at her lateness and took up her discontinued hunt. Some time later, she got back to the camp with a small, furry creature that looked something like a squirrel. Rushing over the rise, she smiled at the sight of Gabrielle waiting patiently by the fire, stirring a pot of vegetable broth.

"Hi ... pickings are pretty slim out here," Xena said a bit sheepishly as she held out the dressed carcass. "Hardly worth cooking ..."

"Don't be silly, Xena ... it's given its life to add flavor and substance to our stew," Gabrielle said dryly, not looking up from her work. Surprised and pleased to hear even an attempt at banter from her friend, Xena ruffled blond hair as she moved to take care of Argo.

After she'd passed by, she heard Gabrielle ask, "Everything OK?"

Ruefully, she turned back. "Yeah, it's just ... you know, I'm still so ... jumpy ..."

"Yeah ... yeah, I know ..." came the equally rueful reply.

As was their habit of late, supper was a quiet affair. After the companions cleaned up the area, Gabrielle left for her now-customary lone walk into the darkness. Xena watched openly at her speed and direction, gauging how far she would go and when she would return. It was the agreement they'd reached so they wouldn't drive each other crazy on their trip back from Chin ... Xena agreed not to stop Gabrielle from taking her walk and Gabrielle agreed that if she was gone too long, Xena could come looking for her. Xena had only come once, after waiting nearly an hour.

At the campfire, the warrior repaired bits of armor and leather as she waited. Hearing the noise she knew that Gabrielle now made deliberately, she looked up discretely to be sure the wanderer was OK. Only then did she draw her sword from its scabbard and begin her nightly, ritualistic sharpening.

Gabrielle started to retrieve her bag from their small pile of possessions, but stopped to hug the golden horse's neck. "I really, really missed you, Argo," she murmured. "I'm so glad you're with us again." The horse butted her and nickered affably at the attention.

Finally, the bard picked up her bag and staff and walked toward the fire. Hesitating momentarily, she walked to the other side of the blaze and sat down beside the surprised warrior. Without comment, the young woman pulled a large piece of pumice stone out of her bag and began to polish out the large nicks and scratches clearly visible on the black surface of her staff.

After a few minutes, Xena cleared her throat.

"Where'd you get the pumice? I thought you'd used it all up long ago."

"That village the other day. The merchant had several pieces and spoke some Greek. He wanted to BUY my staff for the wood ... said he hadn't seen any of the "hard blackness" for a long time and asked me what the word for it was. He kept repeating, "Ebony ... ebony ..." over and over. Anyway, I traded one of my squares of silk for two pieces of pumice -- which I also had to tell him the name of."  She paused, then allowed herself a tiny grin. "The silk, he recognized on his own."

"Was that really a good trade!?" The warrior asked in surprise.

"Depends," murmured her companion. "In Greece, where you can walk along the shoreline and scoop up as much of it as you want? Definitely not. There, where they didn't even know what to call it ... well, I wanted it and he had it, so the trade was good for me." Gabrielle smiled again, very slightly. "It was the smallest square." Xena laughed.

As she talked, Gabrielle ground a bit of the pumice to dust and mixed it with a few drops of olive oil to make a thick paste.

"I made the guy float it in some water to be sure it was the same stuff that drifts ashore at home. I was glad to get it ... this thing has enough gouges and splinters to ruin even MY peasant hands." She gestured toward her battered staff.

"Vidalus would be proud of you!" They both laughed, but stopped in sudden, inexplicable self-consciousness. However, they continued working side by side in a companionable silence. The similarities in their activity seemed finally to draw them to conversation.

"It's gotten dark so early, Xena," Gabrielle sighed. "I ... I'll be so glad when we get back ..."

"I was hoping we'd be there by now, but we didn't quite make it ... I'm sorry, Gabrielle."

"Be where?" Gabrielle asked absently as she worked on a stubborn bump in the wood.

"Why ... home, of course."

Startled, Gabrielle gazed up at the warrior. "Home? We're that close?"

Xena nodded toward the range of hills to the west. "Beyond those hills is Greece."

The bard's eyes widened, eliciting an unconscious grin from the warrior. "When we cross them tomorrow, we'll begin to move southwest. We'll be in Amphipolis in a few days if the weather holds."

"Amphipolis! In a few days!" Gabrielle's eyes shut in a familiar, but long-absent gesture of pleasure. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You didn't ask!" the warrior said playfully.

"Oh, very funny, Xena."

"Seriously, you haven't asked in a long time where we were or how long ..."

Gabrielle cut her off, not unkindly. "It ... it hasn't really mattered much to me lately, Xena." She took a small scrap of leather, dipped it into the pumice paste, and began rubbing the surface of her staff vigorously with the compound.

"Yeah ... yeah, I know ..." Xena's voice trailed off as she stared pensively at the young woman.

"It'll be great to see your mom again," Gabrielle volunteered suddenly, then just as suddenly became very quiet. Dipping back into the pumice paste, she rubbed her staff until it reflected starlight on one side and firelight on the other.

"Yes ... I ... miss her very much. And I'm worried ... we've been gone too long ..."

"Toris is with her."

"Yes ... but I'm ... not."

At this, Gabrielle looked up in time to see clearly just how drawn and distressed the warrior really was. Tentatively, she reached over and patted her friend's knee in a soothing gesture. Xena shook off her mood a bit and touched the bard's arm in thanks. The two women silently took up their tasks again and remained at them for several more minutes.

When it became apparent that no more talk was forthcoming, Xena sheathed her sword and laid it aside. She rose smoothly from the fireside, stored the bag holding her sharpening stone and oil with the rest of their belongings, patted Argo for a few minutes, and wandered to the camp's singular tree. She sat down to look out across the expanse of plain toward the hills ... toward home.

Gradually, she realized that Gabrielle was standing awkwardly beside her. Not shifting her gaze, she patted the ground in invitation and Gabrielle folded herself down. They sat silently looking into the night.

"Why did you hope that we would be home by now?" Gabrielle asked abruptly.

"Why did ...?" Xena drew a breath, realizing that her friend really didn't know. "Well, because today is Winter Solstice, Gabrielle."

"Solstice?" Gabrielle exclaimed in surprise. "Solstice! I had no idea ..."

"Yes, we've been gone from home for a VERY long time ..." Xena gazed down at her companion, feeling an uncomfortable mixture of regret, pain, and love.

"Too long ..." whispered Gabrielle.

Hesitantly, Xena reached out again, taking a smaller hand in her own. "Do you remember where we were this time last year?" For the first time in longer than she cared to contemplate, she saw a real smile form on her friend's face.

"The orphanage! King Silvus! Senticles!" Gabrielle laughed happily. "... and Tobias! Oh, we had a wonderful time, didn't we?"

She squeezed Xena's hand affectionately and, without thinking, looked up into those startlingly blue eyes with genuine delight.

"Yes ... yes, we did, Gabrielle." Xena gazed at her fondly. "Some Solstice we'll have to go back there and see how things turned out for everyone."

Gabrielle paused. "You ... you think we'll be together for another Solstice?" she questioned softly.

There it was ... the question neither of them had wanted to ask or answer in all the long months of their journey back from Chin. Gabrielle felt the need to look away from those suddenly pained eyes, but did not.

Her heart sank, though, when Xena dropped her hand, stood up, and walked back to the fire. Numbly, she gazed out onto the small plain, aware of nothing but the cold, empty space beside her.

"Gabrielle?"

Somehow, Xena had reappeared, kneeling at her side and pressing something into her hands. Xena's own hand moved and a small, bleating sound came from the object.

"M-my lamb!"

"You knew we had it," Xena said, carefully sweeping a lonely tear and some errant strands of hair from the young woman's face. She paused.

"I haven't seen you cry since you came to me in Ming Tien's dungeon."

"It's too late to cry," Gabrielle said flatly, her eyes coldly vacant.

"Gabrielle, listen to me ..." Xena waited until she was sure she had her friend's complete attention. "I told you then that you were a gift to me. Nothing's changed." She heard Gabrielle gasp sharply.

"Oh, Xena!" Gabrielle cried out in real anguish. "Everything's changed ..." Her voice faded to a whisper. "Everything."

Xena bit her lip. "You're right ... things have changed, Gabrielle ..." She hesitated as a mournful expression overtook the girl's features. " ... many things ... but not that," Xena finished firmly, drawing the beloved face upward with compassionate hands.

"How can you say that, after everything I've d..."

"Because that's what friends DO ... they stand by each other in times of trouble ... all KINDS of trouble."

Gabrielle sighed softly at the memories those words evoked. "Xena ... Xena, you don't even know ev..."

"I know that you haven't talked to me about everything that's bothering you," Xena interrupted. "You'll tell me when you're ready ... or not, as you prefer. We're both grownups, Gabrielle ... and we both ..." Xena hesitated, then continued more forcefully. "... EVERYbody has secrets. That doesn't mean we're not friends anymore."

She sat down, curled an arm around small shoulders, and leaned back against the tree. Staring into the darkness, she felt Gabrielle stiffen slightly, then relax against her.

"We ... we'll work this out, Gabrielle."

"What if ... what if we don't?" a very small voice queried.

"I won't believe that ... I can't." Xena tightened her hold as if to forestall the bard's sudden disappearance.

"But what if ..."

Xena sighed. "Then we'll still have your stories and our memories of everything that was. That will never change ... what we've shared, how we've grown ... it will always be true and good. I told you that in Chin."

She felt Gabrielle shift, sigh, and settle against her in a kind of desperate closeness. They rested together, silent for a time, looking toward the hills of home and thinking their separate, bittersweet thoughts.

"So many stars ..."

The impulsive comment caused Xena to snap her wandering attention back to the present. She looked up into the sky, which did indeed seem to be bursting with tiny, flickering campfires. Seeing an old friend, she smiled into the night's blackness.

"Hey, Gabrielle ... there's your bear." She shifted her grip and pointed with her free hand toward the northern sky.

Gabrielle looked to the north and finally smiled, too. "You know ... it really DOES look a little like a
dipper ..."