Disclaimer: The characters of Xena and Gabrielle belong to MCA/Universal and Renaissance Pictures.Disclaimer: The characters of Xena and Gabrielle belong to MCA/Universal and Renaissance Pictures.
Subtext: Oh, yeah. If you’re not 18 or over, live where this is illegal, or just don’t like the idea of our gals being in love, stop NOW and go away.
Thanks again, Kamouraskan.
Whether you love it, hate it, or are indifferent, I’d like to hear your comments at: conductor22@hotmail.com
Oh, journal, I have been trapped as surely as any wild animal. Not threatened by weapon or caught by snare, but nevertheless, trapped. Caged by a pair of blue eyes. At first I thought I followed her for adventure, to leave the boredom of village life. I promised not to get in the way, to cook, tell stories, document her journeys, and even prophesy. Anything to travel at her side. I thought I was running from, but I was running toward. I finally realize that truth.
In the early evening, Xena had returned from brushing down Argo and was meditating on a hill near the village. I sat in the grass a few feet from her, looking out over the valley; but it wasn’t long before my eyes turned to her, watching the grace and ease of her movements, something in my chest tightening.
"I heard about how you saved that child in the river this morning." Her voice was dark and sensual, weightless in the air. "Everyone was talking about the bard and how she rescued the little girl."
Did she know I was watching her? I wondered. "You’d have done it, and probably faster, if you’d been there."
She stopped her regimen. Her eyes opened, revealing their riveting blue. They held me fast; I couldn’t move, not even blink, not even breathe.
"Why do you always belittle the things you do, Gabrielle?" she asked, resting on the grass next to me. "You saved a life today. That’s important. You make people happy by telling your stories and taking them away from the humdrum of their lives. That’s important." She quirked a half-smile. "You’re a great cook. That’s important, too." She put her forefinger under my chin and lifted it. Something inside me screamed for air, and I inhaled. "You’re important."
I wanted to tell her how important she was, she who could fight her way through a group of thieves, protect the innocent, protect me while I stood and did…. nothing. I wanted to say how important she was to me; but I said….nothing. Xena is a woman of few words. Those comments were like a speech for her, and I didn’t want to lessen what she had said by denying it or endanger our friendship by telling her how I felt.
We had secured a room at the local tavern, a rare treat for us. It was the first time we had been to this village, and before returning to the inn, I wore myself out shopping in the market. The thought of a real bed was inviting. She glanced at me questioningly. "I’d like some ale before we go up…."
I believe she thought I’d go to the room without her, but I smiled and said, "I could use some milk."
We found a table in a far corner and eased gratefully into the chairs. While we waited for a server, I studied the outline of her face in the dim light. Her beauty was intoxicating, and I felt suddenly flushed and breathless. I didn’t want to stare, but I couldn’t help myself.
"Are you all right, Gabrielle?" she asked, startling me from my thoughts. "You’ve haven’t said much of anything tonight." Her brow furrowed in concern.
Tapping my head, I grinned a lie. "I’m planning the story I’ll tell while we travel tomorrow."
"I look forward to it."
The barmaid came to the table, tray held against her hip. “Hello, Xena.” She stood behind and to the right of Xena, her finger tracing along the warrior’s neck, down her shoulder, and along the strong arm. Xena froze, closing her eyes, and leaning into the touch.
My vision traveled along the brunette’s arm and up. At one time she was probably thought of as an attractive woman, even beautiful, but her hard life was now reflected in her face, and the deadness in her eyes did nothing to enhance her looks.
"Delilah," Xena spoke. She opened her eyes slowly, luxuriating in her sensations, exposing smoldering blue orbs, darkened by desire.
"So you remember my voice. But,” she breathed softly into the warrior’s ear, “Do you remember me? My kiss? My touch?"
Suddenly I hated this woman, this threat to…to what?
Xena blinked and her countenance transformed. She shrugged her shoulder and moved her arm, and the woman’s hand fell at her side. The waitress looked at me.
"You must be the little bard that saved the child. I heard she traveled with Xena.” Her eyes brazenly traveled up and down my body. “What’ll ya have?" the bitch questioned.
Xena cleared her throat. "Ale. Excuse me." And with that, she stood and left the tavern.
Delilah turned and looked at me with a strange sneer on her face. "I don’t suppose you’d want ale."
"Milk," I said, embarrassed by my choice.
She snorted with contempt at my order, and then leaned down until her lips almost brushed my ear. "You must be some trick," she whispered. "Until now, I was Xena’s favorite, and she’d never turn me down."
I was stunned. While I suppose I am naïve, I knew Xena had taken lovers, both willing and unwilling, during her days as the Destroyer of Nations. I’d even heard some of the tales of her conquests on the battlefield and her appetite in bed. It had never occurred to me that some of those delicacies were women.
Xena returned to the table just after Delilah brought the mugs. Her face was flushed and glistened as though it had been splashed with cold water. Not even sitting, she grabbed her ale and gulped it quickly. She never looked at me, but finished her drink and headed silently for the room.
Now I knew. I was jealous of that whore, envious that she could elicit such a reaction from Xena with just a touch of her hand. I knew that what I felt was love, and I wanted to love Xena for the rest of my life and pleasure her in that way. I would replace Delilah and possess my warrior’s thoughts and dreams as she possessed mine. I had been fighting myself too long. Taught that this kind of love was wrong, I’d refused to acknowledge it. No more. Love, any love, can never be wrong. It is always better than hate. Now I accepted. But how did Xena feel about me? There were times when I thought I saw a look, felt the brush of her hand against me, heard my name in her dreams. Should I take the chance that Xena loved me?
When I stepped into our room, Xena was sitting on the bed, hands clasped together resting on her lap. She stared at her fingers.
"Xena…"
"I’m sorry, Gabrielle." Her head came up, and I could see the tears in her eyes.
"About what?" I questioned.
"About Delilah. That was another time."
She was even more beautiful in her vulnerability, something I rarely saw, and I was filled with a longing to comfort her. "Another time. Another life. You were different then."
"Yes."
"She wanted you, you know. Not just another lay."
There was a slight cringe, and her voice ached with weariness. "Yes. But not again. Never again...with anyone."
"Never again with anyone? Or never again for sex with someone you don’t love?" I hugged her, and my breath played at her ear. She inhaled a quick, soft gasp, and I decided. "I love you, Xena. I have for some time now.”
"Gabrielle?" Her eyes held confusion.
I smiled and kissed her hand. "I love you, Xena," I repeated. “And I want to make love to you…." my voice cracked, "…but I don’t know…if you want me…or how." I hated being so inexperienced.
Her reticence filled me with fear. Was I wrong? Had I misunderstood the barmaid’s meaning?
"Gabrielle, are you sure?"
"Oh, yes. As sure as I am that I was meant to follow you."
Her expression softened, and I could see her love for me in her eyes. "Gabrielle." My name was a caress, tender and all enveloping, gentler than the feel of her hand against my face, and my body tingled. She felt my shudder and held me close. “Yes,” she whispered, “I want you.” Her breath teased at my ear and neck until her hunger infused her, and she began to nibble them.
"I love you, Gabrielle. I’ve wanted to say that for so long."
She kissed my forehead. "I love your mind, the way you think, your imagination."
She kissed my eyelids. "I love the green of your eyes, the way you look at me."
She kissed my throat. "I love the sound of your voice, the way you say my name."
I felt her hand at my top, untying the cord holding it in place. The ache in the pit of my stomach moved to my groin. It was needy, demanding. Her lips kissed their way around my breasts until they found my nipple. I groaned.
Her lips moved to my hands, and she nibbled and licked my palm and fingers. "I love these hands that cook our food and write the stories." Her voice was as intoxicating as her movements. My breathing became rapid and shallow, as she moved about my body filling me with wondrous sensations and wonderful words, loving each part of me. Finally, she looked up, her eyes simmering with desire. The gentle loving kiss she gave me soon escalated to passion.
I felt her hand part my legs and gasped at the feel of her warm flesh against me. She looked at me, hesitating, but I hissed a ‘yes’, and felt her enter me. Her thrust was first slow and easy gradually moving faster until I thought I would be lost in oblivion. She stopped, and I wanted to cry from the lack of her touch. Then I felt her finger fondle my clitoris, and a moan from the very depths of my soul escaped my throat. Once more she brought me to the edge only to halt there unwilling to let me leap. She kissed me lightly on the lips and gave me an odd, knowing smile, then kissed her way down my body until her lips rested against my clit. The rhythmic movements of her tongue timed to that of her fingers moving in me sent me into orgasm. I thought my heart would rip from my chest and in ecstasy fall racing at my side; and had it done so, I would have felt no regret. Spine shivering from her strokes, my body convulsed in her arms. When I could relax, she held me. I almost slept there, but I needed to please her as she had me.
I began to kiss her. She knew what I was doing and pulled away, kissing me tenderly about my face. "You don’t have to do this now."
"No, I want to. I need to love you." I paused, unsure. "This is new to me, Xena. It won’t be as good as……"
"Don’t, Gabrielle. Don’t lessen what you give."
"I’ve never done this before." I was afraid. What if I couldn’t give to her what she gave to me?
She smiled and nibbled my ear. "Just think of all the fun we can have while you practice."
The sun rose long ago, and the sounds of a bustling village float through my window.
Xena lies in bed pretending to sleep, more peaceful than I’ve ever seen her. A tranquility lingers over me, and I am content with my life. In a moment, I will lay down my quill and stand besides her, reveling in her beauty. I will ease into the bed, wake her with my kisses, and practice once more.
The End
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