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. :)

Language Alert: The F word is used, but not in a mean way.

Xena knew they should probably be heading back. After all, she did have a warcamp to run, but it was difficult to even *think* of peeling herself away from the loveliness that was Gabrielle. She held her lover comfortably, resting. The bard was nestled in the crook of Xena's arm, her leg strewn casually over the warrior's thigh, her breathing deep and even. Xena looked down at her lover and smiled voluptuously (and if Gabrielle had been awake to see it, they'd have been at it again).

Gods, she had forgotten how marvelously sensuous a shaved mound could be. It had been so delicious rubbing against the bard that Xena hadn't even bothered with her hands. Instead she'd tupped her lover, strong arms straddling just below the bard's arms, powerful legs and hips providing the grinding, pushing motion. Gabrielle had been so willingly open, spreading like a butterfly's wings then sloping her legs over Xena's shoulders. The bard's erotic cries were more sweet than any other sound Xena could remember, save maybe the noise of her son's first yowl. It had been so good that the thought of their loving brought luxurious tingles to Xena's groin. The warrior grinned, firmly convinced that she'd like to use that particular method again.

Oh! Xena shuddered blissfully, she had an appetite for this woman. The beautiful dark warrior smiled as Gabrielle shifted position, the residue of their loving causing a bit of a slide along Xena's thigh. Xena let out a slow breath and laughed quietly to herself. So much for wondering about keeping up. The little one might be napping, but the blue eyed woman knew the Amazon wouldn't resist (and probably would aid in the process) if Xena started making advances again.

Xena knew it couldn't last. At least not this sort of wonderfucking they'd been going at. She wished it would, but she knew things like this passed. She'd seen too many relationships start off with a bang and then dwindle to slow smoldering fires or to nothing all. She wouldn't let that happen though. They'd keep the fire stoked enough to keep them warm at night. Xena grinned at the images she saw in her head. She and Gabrielle as two crones, loving into the night. Yes.

The warrior knew there were ways to blow on that fire and keep it stirred up and certainly it seemed that her bard had the imagination and the passion for to do her own share of stoking. Xena sighed, but not unhappily. She wasn't worried. No doubt, right now, they were just overly inspired by Aphrodite and certainly their bodies would hit that point where they would have to take a break. But it was so nice, so very wonderful, to be able to even feel this desire and then to be able to *fill* this desire.. It was the first time Xena had felt truly satiated in a long time and if they did nothing else but hold each other ever after, it felt like it would be enough.

The moment of respite gave the warrior time to think and she had been thinking very hard. Before Gabrielle drifted totally away on pleasure's ocean, they had agreed on a compromise. Gabrielle would give up the notion of an exact replica of Xena's sigil on her shoulder, but something of Xena would be in the mark that they chose, something recognizable and as soon as possible. Starting Tomorrow.

And that was the thing, wasn't it. The warrior had a sneaking suspicion that tomorrow didn't feel soon enough to the fair woman. Xena could feel the worry pulsing off of her bard. Gabrielle never really addressed the driving motivation of needing the tattoo "Now." At first, Xena had supposed it was love causing Gabrielle to say those words, but there was an intensity to Gabrielle's hazel gaze that belied that notion. Oh love was part of it, the warrior was sure, but there was more to it than that. The problem was wiggling the information out of the bard.

For once, Gabrielle had been incredibly, amazingly reticent. Oh she told Xena some things, such as she had a dream and that she wore a mark, but she didn't tell the warrior everything. Of that, the warrior was positive, because usually the bard went into every detail; colors, scents, the way the bard felt during the dream. This time it had been, when Xena had asked why the hurry, "Oh, well, you know, I had a dream." The warrior turned warlord narrowed her eyelids and growled softly to herself. Usually that would have been *her* line. And to Xena, the silence indicated that the bard felt this worry was real enough to warrant action.

Xena didn't press. It was rare enough that the bard indicated a need for privacy and the warrior was loathe to trespass, since she was especially sensitive to such needs in herself. So, instead of prying and demanding to know what it was the bard was thinking, though she wanted to, Xena simply committed herself to fulfilling Gabrielle's request and treated the issue as a real need, rather than a fanciful notion that had somehow gotten into the bard's head.

The key would be to create the dye to match fine redgold curls and still be able to start the work as soon as the bard wanted. Xena wanted something that would be permanent, yet safe. She'd have Darvin discreetly ask around the camp. Perhaps a healer might have taken up a second vocation and have some prepared concoction. Xena set her mind to thinking about the substances she'd need to create the marking paint, just in case there wasn't any available. She pulled from her memory the herbs that might be useful, not just for the dye, but as a surface painkiller and cleaner and perhaps relaxant. The bard might as well be as comfortable as possible, especially considering the location.

The thought brought on memories of her own marking. Yes there had been pain, but Gabrielle (Gods it had been Gabrielle hadn't it) had made it so erotic that Xena usually forgot all about the sting. The warrior grinned to herself, no reason she couldn't do the same for her lover. Xena moved her body, so her hand could lazily stroke the newly smooth surface. There was a resulting murmur and a shift of the hips forward, seeking.

Maybe Xena ought to tell the bard she just *wants* it there. The warrior grinned. That would certainly be claim enough wouldn't it, and true. She did want to claim the bard, despite what she'd said to the hazel eyed woman earlier. It wasn't a matter of owning, not the way she'd owned Rachis and Shasta, but it was a way of saying mine, all mine. And there would be no way to fail to recognize it. It would be special and right to have their marks in the same place, hidden from just anyone, yet accessible if, for some reason, they wanted to show off. The thought brought a slew of emotions to the surface of Xena's mind.

It would be forever wouldn't it. As soon as the needle touched her bard, as soon as Xena made the mark, it would be as binding as any ceremony (though no doubt there would be a chance to have a ceremony if Gabrielle wanted one. Xena was willing, at that point, to do anything that would make Gabrielle happy. Anything.) Still, the tattoo, once done, would be forever and if it was going to be forever, then it would have to be beautiful. Xena would have it no other way. It would have to be beautiful because it had to be something that held meaning, other than, "You are mine." The mark had to reflect how the warrior felt, totally.

Xena didn't even think about the fact that she knew what the mark looked like. It was as if her memory had been wiped on that particular matter, as if a muse had said, "the mark must arise from who you are, not what you were." The warrior's mind began to take a creative turn, and she considered the matter from deep within, as she had the make of her armor, contemplating the practical along with the aesthetic. It was meditative, almost, and images began to push their way forward into her mind, seeming to trail their way up from her heart.

Meanwhile, Gabrielle was responding to Xena's lazy finger play and she finally woke up enough that she was able to deliberately lift her body, so those wonderful fingers slid neatly where she wanted them. The contact with Gabrielle's wet center woke Xena up from her mental meanderings real quick. (Xena promised herself, while she could still think to promise herself, that they would head on out right after. No telling what trouble those warlords could get themselves into. She could only hope that the camp stayed cohesive. She could only. . .focus on what Gabrielle was doing with her tongue right at the moment. All thoughts of being anyplace but where she was faded as Xena surrendered to Aphrodite's spell, again.) Gabrielle smiled, Xena smiled and in heartbeats, they were lost to the moment.