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Gabrielle awoke without a jerk, the rays of the sun teasing her from her dull nightmares. She didn't want to open her eyes and face the day without her. What was the point? The greater good was just a crock - she had given it everything and it had torn her apart, piece by piece, until there was nothing left but a bloody carcass, devoid of love and hope. It had taken her light and extinguished it, leaving only the even impeding darkness.

Her soul was forever tarnished by the good that she strove to do. And now that one redeemining of life, hell her whole life had been decapitated and burnt and now, more than ever, she was alone.

So, no. She would not face the sunlight. It was too bright - too mocking of what she lost.

Instead she would lie here and wait for its cheery rays to sink once more into oblivion.

She would let the dark embrace her. She would become night.

Gabrielle staggered through the market place, glaring at anybody that dared meet her eye. How dare they exist when Xena was dead? They were peasants! Not even worthy of holding a candle to what she had lost. She didn't even know what she was doing here; she wasn't hungry. Aphrodite had been very insisting about going and eating though. Gabrielle was still grumpy that she hadn't simply magic'd up some food, but whatever. Gods made little sense. Ever.

An object caught her attention and broke her dark thoughts. It was the most beautiful set of panpipes she had ever seen. The reeds were made of mahogany and were polished to a point that the Chakram would be jealous. She wandered over to the store. And gazed at it longingly. Xena hadn't approved of her panpipes. They were too noisy, and, to be fair, she wasn't very good at them. But how can you improve if you don't practice? She had stopped playing them at Xena's request though... but now that Xena was dead, she could resume her musical interests.

A few minutes later the shop keeper found himself handing over the flute for a tenth of the cost price. For the first time since Jappa, Gabrielle was happy. There was an upside to Xena's death.

I CANNOT EVEN WITH THESE ENTRIES.

cooking, that was an amazing poem. Auto, that was hilariously unexpected. And DMX. DAMMIT DMX. ALL THE FEELS. It's like you stabbed me with those panpipes. If that makes any sense. They will only play the sound of sorrow now.