CHAPTER THREE
Gabrielle looked across the campfire, puzzled to see the smiling face of the Conqueror, and wondered when they'd left the castle. She watched as the woman talked animatedly about her life as a warlord, and all but gasped as Xena described giving her only son up to her enemies for safe keeping. The firelight caught a tear as it slowly made its way down the Conqueror's fine jaw, and Gabrielle longed to experience it on the tip of her tongue.
She watched herself move around to the other side of the fire, and it was only then that she realized there was no pain, no disfigured and misshapen legs that she was forced to live with. She wanted to thank the gods for the miracle, but was unable to do anything more than observe the play she found herself a part of.
The feeling of total ease swept over her as the Conqueror took her into strong loving arms, kissing her forehead with love and acceptance, and Gabrielle wanted to weep with joy. It was this bond that was missing from her life. Her only attempt at happiness had been dismal when she'd finally married the local boy who had proven to be much better at plowing the fertile fields of the local taverns than tend the crops at home. The only good thing to come out of their union had been when the physical abuse forced her to seek intellectual stimulation with others of like mind. Although it had brought her into the direct path of imprisonment and certain death, the bard could no sooner regret the life that she'd chosen than she could cease to think or feel.
She watched as another tear leaked from the warrior's unblinking eye, and then embraced the woman fully. Although there was some resistance, Gabrielle could feel the honest emotions between them.
"I love you, Xena."
Xena worked the cloth over her shoulders and then eased back into the water. Sighing contentedly, she began working the soap between each toe, flinching as her body spasmed in response. The wound in her hand was next, and the Conqueror nodded with satisfaction at the rate of healing. She sucked a little on the nick and thought of a certain blonde's eager mouth. A sneer twisted her well-sculpted lips as she thought of another who would like to be in the bard's place.
"Damned Dagnon. How dare he profess his undying love to me. Weasel. As if I'd have anything to do with the cur." A shudder ran through her glistening body as she soaped herself again. She drank more wine, as if purging her mouth from even speaking his name.
"He wanted my heart, well, I gave him something else instead." She chortled as she thought of the mark he'd forever wear.
Her eyes glassed over as she contemplated other marks she'd left on those who would own her. No, she did the owning. Her nostrils flared as she thought of the sweet blonde in the other room. Oh, how she wanted to leave her mark on that woman. Her teeth gleamed in the candlelight as she imagined the succulent flesh offered up for the taking. Blue eyes flashed once before closing as the Conqueror played with her nipple ring. She could almost taste the trail of fire she'd emblazon upon the marbled skin of the bard.
She growled deeply as both hands began to bring bronzed flesh to taut peaks.
Her reverie was interrupted as a muffled noise was heard in the other room. Stepping silently from the bath, Xena grabbed a nearby dagger and eased back into her darkened bedroom.
A few of the candles had gone out, and yet her keen eyesight could discern no danger. Moving quickly forward, Xena could see that the slave was twisting in her restraints as she attempted to come back to full consciousness.
"So, the child awakens?" Dropping the knife onto the table, she grabbed another goblet. Scowling deeply, Xena examined the contents, and reached for more wine. The bottle was all but empty, and the warrior was tempted to rouse her lazy house slaves for more.
Her ears perked up as the young woman began to speak.
"Speak up, slave."
The blonde murmured again, her words a muddle.
"I can be of use to you. I can foretell the future. Don't leave me."
Xena shook the woman's chin, but got no response. Lifting her hand in frustration, the Conqueror stilled her stroke as she finally made sense of part of what the woman was saying.
"What do you mean, don't leave you behind?" She snorted derisively.
"You my dear, are caught up in some sort of delirium. One I'm sure I can bring you out of."
Xena pushed the frail shoulders back, forcing the blonde's head up, and then bestowed a deep kiss upon the slave. Her loins ignited once more as the bard began to respond. Xena's eyes fluttered closed as the blonde began to dominate the kiss, gasping as her mouth was invaded and conquered. She pushed herself against the petite body, grinding her pelvis against the lower belly of her slave. Both women moaned in response.
"Xena."
The Conqueror barely noted the familiarity, choosing to focus on the electricity produced from hearing her name spoken, and the tingling of her scalp as their lips met.
Gabrielle moaned in frustration as she strained against her bounds, so close but unable to touch the woman against her. She cried out softly as the Conqueror's muscled thigh came into contact with her damaged legs.
The bard could see them in their bedroll, the flames highlighting every plane of the woman's bronzed flesh. She could see the love shining up from the woman beneath her, a golden curtain descending as she bent down for another sweet kiss.
"Oh gods, Xena... let me hold you... I need to touch you."
Xena nodded as her mouth was covered again, swallowing up any thought other than sharing herself with this woman.
Her skin seemed to tingle as the bard moaned against her. She found herself wanting to give so much to the woman. There was so much pain and sorrow in her life. Perhaps.
"Yes, Gabrielle.yes." Her eyes closed again as she felt her lower lip feasted upon, and she began to rhythmically move against the smaller woman's thigh.
The pain became intense, dragging Gabrielle up from the depths of her self imposed dreamscape. Fear gripped her as she fought with the realization that it was all a dream; that the woman in her arms was not the warm and loving person she'd been making love with, but a cold hearted killer, taking her much as the guards had.
"No! Don't you touch me!" She pulled back from the Conqueror's embrace, her green eyes spitting fire, and then collapsed as the truth of her reality slammed into her.
Xena stood, mouth agape, eyes bright with unshed tears as she recognized the look of pure hatred play across the blonde's face before falling back into unconsciousness.
"Oh my gods," The Conqueror stumbled back as she felt the keen loss of the look this hateful one had replaced. There was such warmth, such unconditional love there... for her. A sob rose up from her throat, and Lord Xena dropped slowly to her knees.
She would never know that look, never earn such abiding love in her lifetime. The realization cut her to the quick, and she mourned her cold and empty existence.
Xena wiped her eyes angrily, tamping down the emotions as best she could. What was wrong with her? How dare a slave make her feel like this!
She dragged herself up and sat heavily in the chair. The blonde moaned a little, whispering small one-syllable words, barely discernable. The Conqueror's breath caught again as she heard her name spoken with reverence. After all the torture Gabrielle had endured below floors, all the abuse she'd endured at her hands.
Lord Xena stretched out her trembling hands, and stared at them, as if they might yield up some sort of truth she could hold onto. It was her duty as the law of the land to mete out punishment. The girl was guilty. Wasn't she?
The Conqueror was filled with confusion. Judgement had always been dispensed at the end of a sword. Her loyalty was in the service of violence and brutality. It was all she'd ever known.
Clenching her hands into fists, the Conqueror sat alone, impervious to the cold night air, kept warm by her own confusing self-hatred.
"What of love? If my destiny consists of all three, where is the love?" Somehow knowing that her destiny was already fulfilled was of little comfort. Surely there was more to her life than... this?
At some point, she found herself holding the young bard carefully against her chest, trying to ease the pain they both felt.
Gabrielle wept in agony as the Lord released her from the oak, and tenderly carried her to the large bed. After meticulously settling the bard under the covers and tucking her in, the Conqueror threw on a long satin shift and began pacing the area around her bed.
Lord Xena looked down upon the damp face of the blonde and felt a tightening in her chest. She looked so forlorn, so weak. The warrior blinked slowly and then passed a tired hand over an equally tired pair of eyes.
Gabrielle groaned and began to flail weakly.
"Xe...na..."
The Conqueror flinched as her name slipped off the bard's tongue. It was said with such care, with such emotion. Xena shook the cobwebs from her mind as the amount of wine consumed began to take their toll.
What did she know of aiding someone in pain? She was well practiced in the giving of pain, not the release from it. She growled in frustration. How could she help this woman if she didn't know how?
"Alright, think Xena. You're on the battlefield, one person down. What do you do?" She pounded her fist into the palm of her hand. Leave them. Kill them. Move on.
"Fine, what if you can't leave them?" Both eyebrows shot up. That had never come up in all the time she'd been a warrior. It was a given. You had an objective, you met force with force, you pushed forward, and you won the battle. Very little time or energy would be spent on sick or dying soldiers. You couldn't afford to molly coddle the men, it was a sign of weakness.
"If it was a king or a queen you were protecting, then. Now what?" Xena scratched her head. When was the last time she'd been a mercenary hired to protect royalty?
"Shite. Alright, so she's a family member then." The frown disappeared. Well now, this was something she could deal with. What if it was Solon on the bed? She looked down at the restless blonde and pictured a small baby there. How many years had it been since she'd seen her son? Ten, eleven, fourteen?
She sighed morosely, yawned, and walked over to the table. Pushing the empty bottles away, she grunted as her eyes settled on a pitcher of water. Grabbing a crystal goblet, she filled it to the brim and then drank it down. Xena wiped the back of her hand against her mouth, and then refilled the goblet.
"So, let's pretend it's Solon here, and he's sick. Well, I'd make certain he were comfortable, of course. I cannot summon the healer for a... slave, but she needs attention." Xena bit the end of her finger.
"Ah!" Snapping her fingers, she eased forward and tried to touch the goblet to the bard's lips. Unfortunately, the glass was at such an angle that it tipped the contents over the brim.
"Wha?"
The Conqueror cursed as the liquid spread across the sheet covering the young woman. Gabrielle looked dazed as she tried to focus on what was happening around her.
Her head fell back onto the pillow as the room began to spin.
"I thought... perhaps you were thirsty."
It took a second or two, but then Gabrielle was able to pry her tongue from the roof of her mouth.
"Yes, I am. Thank you, Conqueror."
Xena nodded slowly, feeling a little disappointed that the young woman had stopped using her given name. 'Well, it isn't as if we are friends.' An eyebrow came up. 'Friends? I don't think I've had any of those'. Regret blossomed up again as she thought of Lao Ma.
"Would you like more?"
Seeing as she hadn't had any, the blonde nodded, and then watched as the Conqueror came back to the bed with another cupful.
Xena stood there, glass held out.
Gabrielle blinked, and tried to focus. Was it her eyes or was the Conqueror so very far away?
The weak smile began to falter on the warrior's lips. Now what? She stuck her finger into the goblet. The water was cool. She held it out again, and then frowned as the woman still lay there.
Gabrielle could all but taste the water held out to her. The ruler was waiting for something, but for the life of her, the bard couldn't understand exactly what that was.
Xena thought about the young woman in her bed. When had she stopped thinking of her as a criminal, a lowly slave, and started thinking of her as someone to be cared for? She blinked as the blonde struggled to prop herself up, peeling the sodden fabric away from her body.
Her heart lurched as bite marks were revealed along with a myriad of bruises and other cuts. For the first time in a very long while, the Conqueror felt shame.
The bard winced as the Conqueror clenched her fists. Then she remembered: they had unfinished business. Gritting her teeth, she eased her legs out, wrapped herself in the damp sheet, and got unsteadily to her feet.
"The dawn is but a few hours away, Conqueror." Gabrielle limped over and gratefully took the goblet from the larger woman's hands. With little hesitation, she quickly brought it to her lips and drank greedily.
Xena reached a hand out to steady the woman as a coughing fit ensued, but was rebuffed as the blonde flinched, and took a step backwards.
A few more sips and the bard had consumed the liquid, placing it carefully on the table before heading back towards the far wall.
Xena frowned, wondering what the young woman was doing. The way she was tottering, it would only be a matter of time before she blacked out again. She followed, careful not to get too close, thereby making Gabrielle flinch again. Each distant look received from the bard stabbed at her heart, making her feel very small inside. It wasn't a feeling she enjoyed.
Gabrielle bit her lower lip, took a deep breath, and then let the sheet pool at her ankles.
Lord Xena furrowed her brow as she watched the woman take her place against the oak, trying very hard not to stare as Gabrielle's nipples hardened before her eyes. She tried to make eye contract, but failed miserably as she watched the woman pull into herself.
The absence of the woman's presence felt like a physical blow, and the Conqueror stepped closer, placing her hand on the woman's cheek.
"No don't go, Gabrielle. Please, stay with me?"
Gabrielle's eyes cleared slowly, and she looked at the Conqueror expectantly. Why wasn't she being shackled? Surely, the woman didn't expect her to do it herself?
"Why? I have no intentions of falling for any new games. So you know about me. All right, fine. I thought perhaps I was a faceless stranger to you, but discovering that you've known something about me from the very first makes this more personal, more brutal."
Xena swallowed the lump in her throat as she watched the blonde fiddle with the restraints.
"You... you don't have to do that, Gabrielle."
The bard snorted softly.
"Look, dawn will be here in another few hours, and then you can be rid of me. I know I have no right to ask, but."
Xena tilted her head quizzically, and then it dawned on her. She believed her life was over when the sun rose. Her left eye began to twitch as the woman fingered her own nipples, and then slowly moved her legs into the restraints.
"If I make it a good show, will you be... merciful, when the time comes?"
Well, wasn't it going to be just as the young woman believed? Hadn't she planned on raping her for hours? Wasn't her intent to glean every bit of pleasure from this young woman's body, and then disposing of her as soon as she was finished?
"No."
Gabrielle watched the muscles in the larger woman's jaw working and flinched back as both biceps bulged.
Shrinking back against the oak, she whimpered.
"No, please... I'm sorry. I had no right to request anything."
Lord Xena turned quickly, squeezing her eyes tightly, and focused on just keeping herself under control. She moved to her armoire with measured steps, donned a pair of black leather pants, jerkin and boots, and then stormed over to the door.
"Conqueror?"
Xena stopped in her tracks, but didn't turn around. She waited, every fibre of her body coiled tightly, like a hair trigger just waiting for release.
"I'm sorry I've displeased you. Shall I... shall I await your return or am I to be dealt with now?"
Xena had the overwhelming urge to face the woman. She would beat her senseless, torment her sexually for hours and then leave her abused body on the floor like so many others before her. Like so much detritus. Because she could. Because it felt like a nice white noise, blotting out all of the torment, all of the fear and self loathing, allowing her to just feel... nothing.
With her heart hammering in her chest, the Conqueror slipped on her leather grieves, pushed wide the double doors, and disappeared like a phantom in the night.