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. :)

There was this idea that because Xena was persistent, that she was also invulnerable to the regular hurts of man. But her body ached by the time she was done climbing and it took every ounce of the very powerful will, which had staked heads along the fields of the great wall of chin, to keep moving. She used one weary hand to push her body up off the grand marbled floor and the other to wipe away the sweat which had covered her brow. It was one of those moments when she wished for Gabrielle's seemingly bottomless carryall. She could have used one of those cloths that always seemed to be in there to dry her face off. As it was, she had to rely on her own frail flesh. It was barely adequate and her hands shook from the effort. She only hoped she wouldn't have to worry about wielding a sword in there.

She counted two statuelike figures at either side of the gate, but she knew it was unlikely that they were *just* statues. Probably, if her experience with the Gods proved true, these were as vicious a set of creatures as any she'd encountered on earth, whose sole purpose was to see to it that people who survived the climb didn't survive what came next. As it was, if she made it past the guardians, she would probably be doing more than sweating before the gods. Good thing that such matters never bothered her. One either accomplished what one set out to do, or didn't. She'd have been more worried if her beloved Gabrielle had been here. She was suddenly grateful that the her lover had been so amenable to waiting. This would have been an excruciating journey for the redhead, and for them both, had she'd chosen to come.

It occurred to the blue eyed beauty, as she pondered what to do next and moved the sweltering leather to accommodate herself better, that perhaps the gate would not be the best way to enter. She didn't see any other option though. The dazzling white entrance was surrounded by sheer rock face. While she could see the towering sparkling mansions of the Gods behind it, she didn't feel inclined to try climbing the almost glassy face of those intimidating walls. No, she'd just have to. ..figure a way in. Perhaps slipping through the bars themselves, while distracting the guards, somehow. That seemed the better notion than trying to convince them to open the gate. Somehow she didn't think that even her lover's charming persuasion could move these two creatures.

They hadn't come for her now, which she would have expected, so that must mean a trap lay ahead. Xena decided that there must be a trigger, but she wasn't sure what it would be. Quietly she fingered the Chakram, looking for demarcations that might indicate where the guard's signal lay. Her eyes took in the patterns of the stone, a giant zigzagging pointed mark encased in a large circle. Lightening. In order to approach the gate she would *have* to step on that mark. That would be it then.

So now her mind worked on how to avoid the obvious calamity of such a maneuver, and get the guards out of her way, just in case. Xena wondered, briefly, just how sentient these creatures were. She contemplated whether they were "alive" like she was or if they were simply stone that moved, perhaps one of Haphaestus creations? If they were simply machines, she could definitely out think this problem.

She felt the cool thin wind brush against her. The warrior's body was too sticky and the dark strands of her hair were clinging to her face. There was a time when she liked the sensation, such as in battle, but at the moment it just made her nervous. She wanted to be *sure* she had her line of sight. She thought a moment, cut a thin strip of leather from her skirt, and tied her hair back from her face.

Better.

And they still hadn't moved.

Confirmation. The use of weapons of was not their signal. That made sense. The gods had no need to fear weapons.

She considered her predicament a moment, eying the sigil on the marbled ground and where it stopped, just at the edge of the gate. Then she looked at the mountain's sides, the guardians and began calculating. She was a woman of invention, made so by necessity, and she always paid attention to the details. Then, options determined she carefully unhooked her Chakram and, running, stepped on the far line. The statues moved.

She didn't waste time, but flung her weapon to the sky and against the mountain's face. Then with a ulating trill she leapt, flipping in the air, reaching out with perfect timing to grab the round sleek weapon and landed spot on the other far edge of the sigil's circled line. There was a groan of stone as creatures moved, faster than she thought possible, to capture her. But Xena, wisely, didn't remain still. Instead she made another grand leap towards the gate, and listened to the grinding cacophony of rock tearing itself from it's mountainous face. She timed it perfectly, even as the statues were covered, drowned by their own kind, and *flew* through the opening of two bars.

She landed hard, not on her feet. She'd not been able to get her bearings with that last leap. Instead she landed on her hip and upper arm and slid towards the broad deep wall of a fountain with an unfortunate crunch. Her body was most definitely bruised, saved only by those skimpy pieces of armor she wore. She got a good solid knock on the head, the kind that made one dizzy. She felt like she wanted to sleep, desperately.

But she was Xena, and she had a mission to fulfill, so she breathed in and let go the pain and the darkness that threatened.

Fortunately for her, she'd always been the hard headed type. Xena smiled grimly at the interior joke, and winced at how it felt. Then, drawing again on the strength of her will, the warrior princess scrabbled to a stand and wobbled, ignoring the scraped elbow and the generally battered feelings that grumbled through her body. It was time to face the Gods.

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İMay 1998

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