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. Several times.
Gabrielle wondered how she managed to find herself in this position, again. Her buttocks pressed uncomfortably against the beveled edge of the table. Her hands, which had nothing to occupy them, cupped the rim. The underside of the table was rough against her fingers. She didn't dare move too much, lest Xena misinterpret a gesture. She wasn't sure who was approaching. Xena, her lover or Xena, the Warlord. .or even both.
The red-head tried to speak, but the words died in her throat. Instead of justifying herself for something she wasn't quite sure she understood, her mind had turned to other matters. For starters, Xena's heated proximity and scent.
There was the leather, of course. There was always the leather. Mixed in with that was the port and wine, a kind of fruitybuzzedyeast scent. Not bad, but evident. Xena had been drinking and the smell clung to her sweat and breath. Then there was her, that floral sexed smell that set Gabrielle's body firing with erotic heat whenever she was near. Sometimes, it was just a tingle, other times like now, her body acted like she was the Nile. Xena was looking at her with feral passion. Gabrielle curled her lips up in a smile, but it felt timid.
Xena lifted a finger, not touching, but signaling. The Warlord's gaze dipped to the truncated top that covered the bard's breasts and not much else. Xena stroked the finger down the laces which Gabrielle had so carefully tied, then hooked it through one of the vulnerable lacings. The dark haired woman tugged and Gabrielle felt the drag of it. Her bosom lifted with the pull and her back and body arched away from the table.
"Do you love me?" Xena asked. Her breath was hot against Gabrielle's skin. Her cheek rested against the bard's. The question was unexpected and disorienting. It wasn't one that Gabrielle had ever expected to fall from Xena's lips. And what broke the bard's heart was that there was no confidence in it. So she had fire on the one hand and . . .a dangling thread of fear on the other.
It was a precarious, potent combination, Gabrielle knew. She knew that a warlord, any warlord was the most dangerous when they were frightened. And she knew she had to think the circles around this, to find the real meaning or. . .
She dreaded what the consequence might be and she found her commitment to do whatever it took, so long ago discarded in relief, flickering back to life.
'Do you love me?' Well of course, she wouldn't have. . .oh, but that was right, as far as Xena knew she'd only come because. . .because. . .Well, she'd told her that wasn't her only reason, but. . .Xena's spare hand was doing tantalizing things to Gabrielle's side, distracting her. The bard felt a pulsing shiver. Her mind raced while she could still think. The Warlord was asking more questions than the one. Do you love me? Will you love me? Did you love me? Then there was the one hidden question which she couldn't answer, not yet. Would you love me if. . . So she avoided that one. But the other questions she could answer, most surely. The bard searched her heart. "Always," the bard whispered, pressing her face against her beloved's. She felt the skin of Xena's face move. And she knew the answer. Yes, she would love Xena if. . .The question is, what would that love drive her to do.
Strong fingers wrapped into Gabrielle's top, crushing the sturdy fabric. The Amazon's breasts pulled together by the grip's force. Her nipples slammed awake and thrust out impatiently against the rough fabric. Then suddenly she wasn't wearing it anymore. Broken laces and a piece of cloth dangled in her view then dropped away. She felt a burst of coolness, then a fine firm warmth of palms holding the underside of breasts and thumbs placed just so. "Xena," she breathed before their lips collided in an exquisite touch. She closed her eyes and felt, just felt the circling motions that the warrior's thumbs made. The feel of it made liquid fiery progress to her middle.
Eventually, (not too long at all) the hands abandoned her, skimming up past the round fullness of Gabrielle's breasts, and pulling, yanking the rest of what had been her top down from her shoulders and off. She heard the thump of cloth against canvas. Well, that wasn't her favorite shirt anyway. Then those blessed hands came back again and slid down her sensitive sides to her hips. Their mouths had yet to cease touching and Gabrielle realized she'd forgotten, in her upset, how hungry she was for Xena, how needful.
She felt the rip of the cloth before she heard it and let go of the skirt as well. It was louder when it hit and slid with a deep slicing fabricy sound. After that, All she could really hear was the sound of Xena's breathing and the wet succulent noises their kisses made, but her mind said, 'I didn't really like that skirt either.'
"Imagine *this* my bard," Xena said against Gabrielle's ear after that last trail of kisses. There was irony in her velvet voice, "Another time, another place. . ." The strawberry blonde's mind was spiraling with sensation. She wasn't sure what she should imagine, but she moaned an agreement. "I would have cut you down." Gabrielle shivered at the image, but oddly felt no fear. Xena continued, "But here now, I just want to fuck you and fuck you and fuck you till you scream. I've missed your screams." Xena found her lips again, and she felt the press of the Warlord's leathers against her chest, rubbing. Strong fingers tangled in the bard's hair and pulled her head back so her neck was exposed.
Oh she was imagining alright. The words translated to Gabrielle's core as, "I love you too. I've missed you." More than her mouth watered at the thought. This also was true. Xena wasn't the only one who needed.
"Imagine *this* my warrior." Xena shuddered. Excellent word choice. It took the sting away, didn't it. Not Monster. Warrior with a heart. Hers. "Another time, another place. . ." Another place in time, "I will ravish you, my consort." She smiled inside, felt the shift in Xena's thoughts. "My Amazons will guard the tent as I fuck you and fuck you and fuck you till you shout in passion." She felt a gleeful tingle sparkle through her, "I've missed your shouts. I've missed you." Okay, so it wasn't a perfect tandem, but she felt the smile before she saw it.
"Uppity Slave." Blue eyes sparkled with humor and passion. White teeth marked Gabrielle's neck, causing her to moan and thrust herself against Xena's timely upraised thigh. How did she do that?
"Ummm," Gabrielle acknowledged, "but I love you." Xena pulled back and loosened her grip without freeing the bard. "And you love me." There she affirmed what was between them.
"But you think I'm. . ." There was a twisting in Xena's gaze, a kind of agony. Vulnerable. Xena felt Vulnerable. The warlord. . .as she was now, held an emotion in her heart that she didn't know how to deal with, save through throwing tantrums. That's what this was really about, Gabrielle realized. Warlords weren't vulnerable, at least not Xena. But, Xena was more than that and more than those inner rules that clouded judgment.
Gabrielle got the words in while she could. She was a bard, after all. "Beautiful, lovely, praiseworthy, valiant, courageous, daring, scary in your intensity, but oh so generous in your loving. To watch you is to watch art. To love you, an honor."
Xena narrowed her gaze and smirked, "You're just trying to get out of a beating." She joked rather than face how the words affected her. The bard watched as shadows passed in Xena's eyes. She could almost hear the thoughts. Xena was cruel. She knew it. That was . . .the problem right? Wasn't that why Gabrielle had turned from her?
"A beating? Me? Hardly. I wouldn't miss your switchings for the world." Gabrielle looked up at her wife, her mate. She reached and touched the dark woman's face with gentle fingertips. Cruelty undone. She spoke honestly, forgetting her desire, her need, just for a moment, to reveal herself.
"I just. .I didn't know. .I'd never. .. there was so much blood," and stuff. So much extra stuff. Bones popping, the sound of muscles being torn, the bloody pink bowels falling out and being trampled to black and mud. She shivered, for entirely different reasons now, her memory called forth the images that had strung through her sleep like a bad thread from the fate's looms. It had been. . .butchery. . . and a terrible glimpse into Xena's past. The bard had known the truth in that instant. Xena's face had been so cold and closed away from her afterwards, and that was what hurt the most, when all she'd wanted to do was be reassured and to reassure. But Xena had walked away from her, wrapped up in thoughts too dark to share.
Another vivid memory coursed through her. The sky was blue and clear, the horses flecked with blood, meat and sweat. Somehow, somehow, Gabrielle had managed to remain standing, had managed not to cry out. She'd been strong, despite her disagreement. And she'd turned to see that fluttering cape flow down the stairs and away.
That was what Xena had been and this was what Xena was capable of now. This was how Xena would defend her and the world. It wasn't all blood upon the blade. It wasn't *all* the glory of fighting. And Xena felt the stinging tail now, maybe more than she had in the past, because she carried the knowledge of her enjoyment deep within. The toothy grin had been there, just as when she was battling and the bard had seen it and remembered.
It was the dreams that had disturbed her and the weariness behind the warrior's touch told it all. So the bard spoke it, "I can't sleep without you anymore, Xena." There. That was said. One burden lifted. Gabrielle felt strong arms wrap around her body and lift her and she clung as tightly as she could.
See, I'll never let you go. Never. No matter what. No matter who.
They held each other like that till their muscles ached and forgot the ache. Then they let go and smiled at each other past salt stained cheeks. Gabrielle gently wiped the wet residue away from Xena's cheek. "I'll love this away," she said. It was a promise to Xena, the benefit of having a heart to hurt.
"You already have," was the warrior's response and she kissed Gabrielle gently, with her eyes open. "And I will do the same." It was a warrior's oath to her lover. Their lips met again, this time stronger, more urgent.
The map was pushed hastily off the table. It could be picked up later. The leathers were peeled from Xena's body by desperate knowing hands. They only landed on the floor where she stood. Only her boots remained. Xena crawled up on the table and covered her lover, skin to skin, breast to pointed breast. Their legs twined, their hands moved to brush sensitive places. They rolled into each other, with Gabrielle moving up and Xena moving down and both so wet they couldn't tell who started where.
The bard's legs clamped around Xena's thighs. Her mouth moved sloppily along salty fruit tasting skin as her lips sought a taut nipple to tease. She ground slickly against a powerful thigh, not expecting the hand that suddenly was Right There! Her fingernails dug into tender scarred flesh and she was moaning with the pleasured need of it. She finally let go of Xena's thigh, needing her warrior within, but she wasn't going to do this alone.
"Please, Xena, a taste. I want to taste you," Gabrielle panted. The warrior released the bard for a moment and curled up and around, somewhat clumsily. Another map sprawled to the floor. It had a tear now. She spread herself over Gabrielle's face and there was a muffled moan of delight. "You are so. . .beautiful." It was all the bard could think of. .but so true. Each time she looked at Xena, from any angle, it was a wonder, a pleasure. Now, she viewed a sparkling bounteous field that was just ripe for the harvesting. She could swear that the generous curls did follow the lines of the mark, but. . .that was something to explore a little later. Right now, she wanted the fruit that was hidden inside.
Gabrielle felt Xena spread her legs, the warmth of her hands against the bard's inner thighs, then caressing the soft lips of her sex. "Mmm," the fair woman purred, all thoughts of the past banished in the moment. She lifted hips and face and was transported to another realm entirely upon contact.
Nectar. This was nectar. She was sure of it. The gods gained their power from such offerings. And she was at the bowl and drinking from it deeply, deeply. Xena was making earthy noises and certainly Gabrielle wasn't hiding her own delight. She could feel the warrior's strong fingers inside and she used her own to scoop more juice for her tongue and if it happened to be fucking at the same time, well that was convenient wasn't it.
She'd no idea how close she was, until her body convulsed in swirling release and she screamed against Xena's fleshy ruby. The vibrations of her tongue and voice and mouth, stilled against the warrior, triggered the raven haired beauty's own impressive roar. Outside the tent, there was a massive, total, collective sigh of relief. The Amazons who were guarding relaxed in their watch.
Gabrielle thought it lucky she didn't drown. But this waterfall she didn't mind. When she had a chance, calming down some, she busied herself with quenching her thirst again and lapped none to delicately against the warrior.
"Gabrielle."
"MMmm."
Xena was having some difficulty concentrating, "Gabrielle."
"mmmmNNNMMMM, Xena. . ." The purr was most definitely Not lethargic. Apparently the bard had meant what she'd said. Xena was finding it difficult to keep still.
Xena debated lifting herself away or just trying reason. Things felt too good, a bit tender, but MUCH too good to lift away just yet. Still, this would be better continued some place softer, "Gabrielle, don't you want to. . ." She jerked her next orgasm, calling out in startlement and bruising the bard's thigh with her grip.
The bard smiled in contentment, riding the next salty wave with a definite grace. This time, she softened her tonguing and let Xena free. The warrior rolled away from her, settling her hip comfortably and looking deeply satiated. She had needed that. Meanwhile, Gabrielle looked both delightfully relaxed and smug with her drenched cheeks. Xena smiled a tad evilly as she stroked her lover's face with her dry hand, "I will pay you back."
Gabrielle grinned back and turned and scooted forward into Xena's arms. The fit was perfect. She loved the way her breasts felt when they brushed against the warrior. Yes. She'd missed this. "I'm looking forward to it, but can we go home first? This table's a bit rough." Xena stared at her for a moment, then grinned and then laughed a true hearty guffaw.
Not too much later, a tall woman in dark leathers was seen carrying another smaller (and a bit giddy) figure, wrapped snugly in a cloak, towards the Warlord and the Queen's tent. The sentries followed quietly, but proudly. The majority of the camp slept much more peacefully.
Katrina's Fan Fiction | Fan Fiction Site | Home Page
This page was last updated: April 21, 1998
ŠApril 1998
URL: ../../STO/warlord/warlord71.html