Warlord Daze

The following is a bit of alternative fiction based on certain characters from the Xenaverse. It is not meant to infringe on anyone else's rights. If you don't agree or disapprove, please go read something else.

Xex Alert: Oh Boy Is There. .This is a Prurient Piece with a Bit of Kink (If you hear the crack of the whip then you'll be in the neighborhood) Proceed at your own risk. :)

Violence Alert: Well, old violence. Implied bad doing. If bad doing bothers you try not to imagine it.

They didn't go into the deep, nor did they linger in the shallow, but they waded to a depth where the water barely grazed Xena's hips. They bathed each other. Bronze hands cupped water and rinsed, causing the cool liquid to drizzle down soft shivering skin. Fair hands circled the sponge, washing away the sweat and the passion of the other day. All touches were gently applied. The usual teasing was absent from this bath, replaced instead with an almost ritual like cleansing, a baptism where they claimed each other as their religion, their worship, among soft kisses and sighs. Then, when they were well cleansed, Xena guided her lover, still silent, to the rock she'd selected and hoisted her up by the waist to its surface.

This was a side of Xena that Gabrielle had never seen, save for that dark blue night after Perdicus' death, when in the moonlight the warrior had prayed for the bard's soul. As far as Gabrielle knew, Xena didn't really worship Gods. She knew them, far more intimately than most priests, but she didn't worship them. They hadn't earned it.

Yet this Xena, in the process of bathing, was filled with a reverence that mirrored itself in Gabrielle. It was as if Xena were doing more than calling up a memory to tell the bard. The way Xena's hands gentled upon her, Gabrielle felt as if she were being prepared, anointed.

The bard felt a thousand questions to burn upon her tongue, all of them important, none of them suitable to the moment. She would have to exercise that patience that she'd learned so painstakingly. She sighed as cool hands parted her thighs. She was instructed, "Lean back." Cool water trickled down her fur and long fingers slicked through the triangle. The bard's head lolled back and she closed her eyes, listening to the sounds (water splashing, birds singing, bubbly little noises that Xena's fingers made), smelling the air (the wind was sweet and there was a touch of lavender), feeling (the goosebumps on her skin, the warm wetness starting its spill in her groin, the pressure of her forearms against the rock, the weight of her hair pulling her head back, the presence of Xena's body between her legs).

"Do you want to watch?" The bard cracked an eyelid open and considered. Probably it would be a wise thing, though at the moment she was really enjoying where she was at. She made her choice.

"Yes," she said, as she changed her reclining position. Her legs spread even further and her feet planted themselves firmly against the rock. She noticed the knife in Xena's hand, metal polished to a shine, edge well honed, pommel held firmly, caringly. She smiled at her warrior and received one in return and impulsively she leaned forward for a kiss. It was soft, sweet and lasted only for a moment, but the bard carried the touch of Xena's lips with her as she sat back, ready.

Xena spoke as if she were telling a story as she placed the sharpened edge carefully against Gabrielle's fine curls. She smiled to herself. Just remember, they will grow back, she thought and began the first harvest. She wondered if the bard would feel as she felt, the first time. She observed the way Gabrielle's skin colored and knew the answer was yes.

"Despite the stories you hear, I wasn't always successful in my campaigns. In fact, there were some where my leadership was truly awful." Blue eyes met astonished hazel eyes. A defeat? She was admitting a defeat? Not like the Horde where she'd had no choice. . . "Breath Gabrielle." The bard exhaled and drew in a slow shuddering breath, affected both by the admission and by the cool, ticklish, dangerous sensation of having a sharp knife near one's privates. Xena smiled gently. "Yes. I lost sometimes. In the early days, most times . . ." There was a self depreciating smile, "I wasn't always so skilled and I had a LOT to learn." (Gabrielle could hardly imagine it. Yet she knew it had to be true. Xena rarely lied) Xena wrapped her arm the bard's thigh and bent to the task at hand, letting her mind focus on one thing, while she revealed another. "There was a particularly bad roust. Most of my men were dead or wounded. I had been thrown off a horse and had landed poorly." That had been a bad choice on her part to leap on that nag to avoid an arrow, but it had seemed wise at the time. She laughed, "I was unconscious when I was found. It was good for them," she wiped the knife and rinsed the cloth and began another careful stroke, "but bad for me.

"Their hands were cruel and their laughter cutting. I was just a woman and I had lost." (Xena remembered it all as clearly as if it happened yesterday. Each individual scent and sound, the metalic taste in her mouth, each touch. Her inner smile was vicious. Each slow torturous death.) Xena held the knife aloft briefly, assessing whether she needed to sharpen or if the edge was fine enough. It seemed to Gabrielle that her warrior was very far away at that moment. Very far away. She reached out, her heart aching for her lover and found her fingers captured in a warm clasp. "Still, my bard, stay still." Blue eyes were soft as the fair woman was pushed back to her original position. "I won't tell you more than that. You don't need to go there." More gentle harvesting.

"But."

"Shh love, another time. I'm only telling this little bit now, so you understand what happened later." The bard opened her mouth and closed it, accepting. Another time then. She realized the uniqueness of the situation and the promise. Xena continued, "They left me for dead in a forest and went their way." Unimaginative fools. "I probably should have died. I had every intention." She laughed coldly at that and Gabrielle felt a shiver go up her spine. Xena thought, How many lives would have been spared? How many. . .No, it didn't pay to go that way, "but it wasn't to be. I was found. . .and carried. I don't know how far or to where." Xena looked up from her careful work and waved the soapy, hairy knife around. "It was a place much like this one." Gabrielle looked down and realized that she was almost half done.

"She never gave me her name. She kept saying I'd figure it out soon enough." Another laugh, "I never did." The memories came back, filling her senses, but not so much she couldn't pay attention. Xena gently spread the lips of Gabrielle's sex with her other hand and revealed the glistening evidence of desire. "She was older, much older than I, but she was beautiful. Her hair was hennaed, but her lips were their own rose." She smiled at the memory and looked into the listening face of her lover, "She was about your height, your size and though age cast its wrinkles upon her body, she was strong and her fingers were nimble." Xena's eyes glowed in memory. Pulling images of her savior back into her mind and finding similarities between past in present.

"You loved her." It was an observation. There was no jealousy.

Xena smiled as she finished her work, "Yes." Madly, passionately, with every fiber, much like. . ."As much as I could at the time. I didn't have a very loving heart back then. And when she left. . ." Xena's breath caught at the memory of a loss both sweet and deep (If only she had stayed, things would have been different. .if only. . ) and she took another steadying breath, "Well, that comes later too." Xena wiped her knife, cleansed the cloth and wiped Gabrielle. "All done." Gabrielle looked and gasped, amazed at the difference. Xena touched the smooth surface of Gabrielle's skin and grinned as the bard shuddered in reaction. It felt fine indeed and was too tempting to ignore. She kissed the newly revealed skin with worshiping lips, letting her tongue dip and latch onto the bard's clitoris. The bard breathed in deeply. Xena's velvet voice echoed along the water. "mmmmDelicious."

Xena pulled her mouth away reluctantly (not before adding another kisslick or two, much to Gabrielle's delight). Then she helped the bard down into the water. Their bodies rubbed, smoothing against each other and the warrior's mouth covered Gabrielle's chest and neck and face with kisses of passion before finally freeing her. "Gods Xena. . ."

The brunette only smiled as she released her friend. Then she hopped, water cascading down her body, onto the stone. Gabrielle's breath caught as the warrior wetly positioned herself and spread her invitation. Xena's voice was husky and she was determined to watch. "Your turn."

Smiling softly to herself, the bard followed Xena's example, wetting and then gently lathering the dark curls, preparing for the revelation. She took her time and let her fingers enjoy the sensation one last time. They'll grow back, she reassured herself, I can play with them again, they'll grow back. Xena was purring with the touch and that caused the bard to grin.

She rinsed her hands and then dried them and picked up the knife. "Should we sharpen it?" She had no wish to use a dull blade on such lovely skin.

Xena smiled, "No. It's sharp enough. Go ahead." The bard nodded. She felt more shaky than she had any right to feel. Gabrielle knew she could do this.

She took a calming breath and looked up. Sky blue framed raven dark hair and sunlight made Xena's skin seem more golden. Gods she loved this woman. If there was even one nick she would be so upset. Gabrielle knew she needed a distraction. She laid the blade carefully and spoke gently, "What happened?"

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This page was last updated: May 07, 1998

İOctober1997

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