myth~feasance and myth-directions part 2

Tucked in her own cold, lonely bedroll, Gabrielle tossed and turned, struggling to get to sleep.

Self-control and Embarrassment were engaged in a Bactrian Tag-Team Wrestling Death Match with Lust and Desire. Currently, Self-control had the shrilly screaming Desire pinned to the mat, helpless in a Persian leg-lock.

Lust, one hand extended, was bellowing, ''Tag me! Tag me! I'll tear her arm off and beat her to death with it! After I kiss and lick her all over...,'' Lust continued with a crazed giggle, its tongue hanging out a foot.

Most of the other emotions stood around watching with bated breath; even the rarely seen Homicidal Fury had been lured from its spiderweb-hung crypt and was avidly watching the wrestling match, munching on popcorn and snickering under its breath.

Ego, Super-Ego and the Unconscience were playing three-handed ''Spank the Pigeon'' with a greasy deck of cards, sipping glasses of warm cider and speculating loudly about ''Freudian significance,'' - which positively infuriating Self-Image, who stalked away saying something about, ''... inferiority complexes...''

Innocence had been shooed away to chase butterflies, accompanied by Better Nature and Morality.

An alien emotion burst into the confines of Gabrielle's psyche. It leaped around the room, knocking down the other emotions and humping their legs, drool hanging in viscous strings from its lips, pale blue eyes burning with an incandescent intensity...

(The Author wishes to apologize for the interruption. Apparently, Xena's Lust managed to escape the warrior's Self-control and made an unauthorized foray into Gabrielle's mind. A reluctant Marlin Perkins was persuaded (by virtue of much arm twisting and fast talking about royalties) to come out of retirement, and managed to shoot the unrestrained Lust with a tranquilizer dart while his long-suffering assistant Jim distracted it by wiggling his fingers in front of his nose and shouting, ''Booga, booga!'' Xena's Lust has been returned to her own psyche, where it has been confined for its own protection. Xena's Self-control has received a severe smack on the wrist from the management and gets no cookies with its tea. We now return you to our regularly scheduled story...)

Gabrielle's emotions were furious. The wrestling match was postponed while Self-control ran around, trying frantically to put out fires.

Wanton Desire was parading around in a see-through nightie, looking at Memory's images of the Warrior Princess - particularly the dirty ones - moaning and caressing Embarrassment, much to that emotion's distress.

Lust, sitting in a puddle of drool and playing with itself, was becoming more agitated by the second.

Self-control was on the verge of throwing in the towel and running away to join the Circus Maximus when Calm, more level-headed than the rest, rang up Exhaustion, finally prodding that sleepy emotion to exert its considerable influence on the others.

Homicidal Fury was unsusceptible to Exhaustion's powers; still munching popcorn, it wandered off with its arm around Sense of Humor's shoulders, murmuring, ''So... wanna catch a movie later?''

The sleepy bard was awakened by the sound of someone's footsteps crunching close to her bedroll. It's Xena!, she thought with an inward cheer. The bard was regretting her earlier stance, and shouted silently to herself, Whoo-hoo! Time to play ''Potidiean Pearl Diving!

Sea-green eyes popped open and Gabrielle stared up at Tiberius. The Roman actor wore a simple toga and his feet were bare. Tiberius looked down at the recumbent strawberry-blonde woman, his hazel eyes twinkling.

''I... thought you might like a nightcap before retiring,'' Tiberius said, extending a wineskin.

Gabrielle sat up and shook her head, trying to hide her disappointment. ''No, thanks,'' she said, ''I'm having a hard enough time getting to sleep without getting drunk, too.''

Tiberius sat down uncomfortably close to the bard; when she tried to surreptitiously slide away, the sandy-haired Roman reached a long arm and placed it around her shoulders, virtually trapping her against him.

''So, tell me, sweetheart,'' the Roman actor purred deeply, a look of desire blossoming on his face, ''Since neither you nor I can get to sleep... why waste a perfectly good evening alone when we can be together?''

Again, she was interrupted. ''Gabrielle,'' he breathed, bringing his face so close to the bard's that she could see the stibium he used to darken his lashes... and smell the wine on his breath.

Tiberius continued, ''Has anyone ever told you that you have skin like cream? That your hair is a waterfall cascade of sun-gold glory? That your eyes...''

The actor interrupted the bard again, much to her annoyance. ''C'mon, Gabrielle,'' he half-whispered, plucking at her bodice, ''You know you want me. Every woman wants me. No female can resist my charm...''

The amazon bard, finally pushed beyond the limits of her endurance, snatched her staff from the ground and gave him a good whack with it.

As the Roman fell unconscious, he muttered, ''Damn that Corinthian witch! She said that charm never failed...'' His voice trailed off as a cheap metal talisman fell out of the folds of his toga.

Gabrielle grabbed the fallen actor by the heels and dragged him back to his own side of the camp, letting him fall next to the unconscious Davius.

As she flopped back down into her own bedroll, the bard's sea-green eyes glistened with angry tears. ''I'm gonna kill that warrior!,'' she said through clenched teeth before closing her eyes and struggling to fall back asleep.

Xena greeted the amazon bard sullenly, her mouth full of cold pheasant, ''Mmph-nin'.''

The two women didn't say another word to one another as they ate their breakfast, although significant glances were exchanged, along with silent apologies, expressions of quiet regret... and unspoken promises of better things to come, including more bouts of ''Tickle the Tarantula'' and ''Connect-the-Freckles.''

On the other side of the fire, an astonished Tiberius was listening intently to the excited Davius. ''Hmph!,'' the sandy-haired Roman grunted, then whispered back, ''...I actually did... that?''

Davius' dark eyes stared longingly into Tiberius' hazel. ''Mumble,'' he answered firmly.

Tiberius ran one hand through his spiky hair, mentally wondering how much he'd had to drink the night before. ''And you were... in your women's costume?''

Ohara and Osteus were arguing in the background. ''Look, ya fumble-fingered sawbones, I'll not be lettin' ye cut off enny-thin' o' mine, or o' the horses', sa drop it, will ya!''

Osteus' voice was raised. ''But, dammit, Ohara,'' he whined, ''Ah'm a doctor, not a frimpin' blacksmith!''

Ohara sighed ostentatiously. ''Just help me hold the dam' horse, Osteus. 'Tis a small thing to ask.''

As the sound of a hammer pounding on ringing steel filled the air, the taciturn Festus began silently tending to the fire, then roasting some strange white object on a green stick. When it was thoroughly charred, the pointy-eared - and nosed - actor stuffed it into his mouth, eyes rolling back in ecstasy.

''A marsh-melon,'' the warrior answered. ''They're a great delicacy, since they're only found growing in Siberian swamps.''

The two women continued to eat in silence, punctuated only by Tiberius whispering, ''Exactly what happened...,'' to a mumbling Davius, and Osteus screaming, ''Dammit, Ah'm a doctor, not a veterinarian!''

At last, breakfast done, Xena wiped her hands on her leather skirt and went in search of Argo and Ohara.

Ohara beamed down at the dark-haired warrior, chocolate brown eyes alight. ''All's well, Xena. I replaced th' shoe, an' yer wee horsie's all fixed up an' ready to ride.''

Xena inspected the Nubian blacksmith's work and nodded with satisfaction. ''Good job, Ohara. How much do I owe you?''

Ohara waved away Xena's question with a plate-sized hand. ''Nothin', warrior. Just...,'' her voice trailed off and she looked embarrassed, although the dark ebony of her skin made it hard to tell if she blushed.

''Well,'' Ohara simpered, ''It's just that wit' you an' t' wee bard travelin' in th' same direction an' all, I was thinkin' we might travel together, don't ya know. Fer protection an' the like. We'd be ever so grateful t' ya.''

Xena's Lust warred with Self-control and Better Nature for a moment. The thought of being several days on the road without the company of her bard made the warrior want to tear handfuls of hair out at the roots and scream...

However, Better Nature won, mostly due to a hasty alliance with Remorse, Repentance and Moral Obligation. ''Ah, sure, Ohara. If the others agree,'' Xena said, desperately hoping for an out.

To the dark-haired warrior's dismay, Ohara beamed. ''O' course th' others'll agree, Xena. Or,'' she added, brandishing a fist that resembled an oak knot, ''they'll be findin' their wee selves in a mortal world o' hurt!''

Xena sighed and left, wondering mentally just how she was going to explain the new circumstances to her bard. Oh, well, Xena thought, I'll just have to hope she doesn't kill me before I can apologize. Maybe if I quoted some more poetry... and I wonder if there are any flowers around here?

Gabrielle was furious. Her breasts heaved, her sea-green eyes glowed, and her strawberry-blonde locks started to frizz. ''What do you mean, we're traveling with them?'' She waved at the assembled actors, who rolled their eyes to Olympus and nonchalantly pretended to be deaf.

''Gabrielle,'' Xena said warningly, ''You know I have an obligation to protect the innocent. They asked me to help them.''

''I know, I know,'' the enraged bard grumbled, ''they made you an offer you couldn't refuse.''

Xena raised one eyebrow. ''No, actually it was the Don of Corleonus who did that, back in my warlord days. But those actors do need our help, so, we'll travel with them as far as Amazon country. And bardie-poo,'' the warrior added under her breath, ''I'll think of something. Okay?''

The two women turned to the impatiently waiting troop. ''We'll escort you as far as the Amazon forest,'' Xena said to Tiberius, who nodded absently and continued his whispered conversation with a wide-eyed Davius, who now wore a diaphanous yellow gown and strawberry-blonde wig.

Ohara poked Tiberius in the ribs. The Roman started, then cleared his throat. ''Oh, yes, well...erhem.Noble-companions -we-ride,'' he said, running his words together in haste and forgoing the usual heroic pose. Tiberius turned back to the simpering Davius. ''So, my little chipmunk,'' he said, fluttering stibium-enhanced lashes, ''Tell me again how much 'oo wuvs 'oo precious daddy-waddy.''

Xena rode in front of the wagon, taking point as usual. The swaying gait of the horse and the well-oiled leather saddle were having their usual effect on the warrior's nether regions. I'm gonna start foaming at the mouth any minute now, Xena thought. Not to mention other places!

As she rode, Xena stove furiously to come up with a plan. Another coupla days of this, and I'm gonna end up chewing on the scenery worse than that hack, Tiberius!

The actors walked, Gabrielle in their midst, while Festus and the rickety wagon brought up the rear. As usual, Gabrielle was chattering away.

''Gosh! You guys have actually performed in Athens?,'' the bard asked Tiberius, who was walking hand in hand with Davius.

Only one thing could have taken the sandy-haired Roman's mind off matters of love; that was the exercise of his enormous ego. ''Why, yes,'' he said expansively, sucking in breath to make his stomach flatter, ''Only last year we performed the tragic 'Sighs of Clytemnestra' to a sold-out audience.''

Ohara chimed in, ''O' course, th' reason th' amphitheater was sold out was onna counta Euripides and Aristotle headlinin' th' double bill.''

''Be silent, you blackhearted witch,'' Tiberius said angrily, hazel eyes dark. ''I will have you know that 'Sighs' brought a tear to every eye in the house!''

Gabrielle stifled a giggle. ''So, do you think I could be an actor?,'' she asked.

Tiberius sucked breath again; his normally tanned face was beginning to turn purple around the edges. ''Of course, my dear, of course! A few lessons from a master such as myself will make you as great a star of the stage as the legendary Bill Shatnersius or even that Britannic chap, Padraigh Stuart. You will never reach my pinnacle, sweet bard, but nevertheless...''

Gabrielle's ribs were beginning to hurt from holding in her laughter. The Roman actor was so full of caco it was a wonder his eyes weren't brown.

Suddenly, a nebulous thought that had been swirling in her mind all morning began to coalesce. A wicked gleam lit up her sea-green eyes. ''Um, Tiberius? Do you have a copy of a play I could practice with?''

''Certainly, my dear. I'll have Osteus fetch it for you; it's called 'The Gorgon's Locks.' A trifle simple for my own refined tastes, but it always leaves the audience howling for more.''

''Great!,'' Gabrielle said. ''I'll just practice it with Xena, if you don't mind.'' As Tiberius frowned, Gabrielle added quickly, ''Not that I wouldn't prefer to practice with you! But... I'm sure a great actor such as yourself has far better things to do than waste time with a mere amateur like myself.''

Tiberius grabbed Gabrielle's hand and raised it to his lips, ignoring a furiously jealous mumble from Davius. ''As you wish, my dear. Perhaps when you've finished, the two of you would consider an audition.''

Gabrielle snatched her hand away and suppressed the urge to wipe it on her skirt. ''Sure, sure,'' she said, stepping away from the sandy-haired Roman and scanning for the troop's doctor. ''My pleasure.''

As Gabrielle hurried away, Tiberius turned to the still-pouting Davius and asked softly, leering, ''So, kitten... ever play with a magic flute?''

Xena called a halt and swung down from Argo's back. ''What's up, Gabrielle?,'' she asked.

Gabrielle skidded to a stop. Quickly, she explained her plan to the dark-haired warrior. When she finished, the amazon bard waited expectantly, sea-green eyes sparkling with mischief and desire.

Xena's brow rose in admiration. ''You thought this up all by yourself?,'' the warrior asked, awe-struck.

Xena thought a moment. ''Lemme see that scroll,'' she said. She quickly scanned the document, then nodded. ''Okay, let's do it.''

Turning to the waiting actors, Xena said, ''Folks, let's stop and rest awhile. We've got plenty of daylight, no reason to hurry. Oh,'' she added casually, ''Gabrielle and I are going to be over there practicing the play you gave her. We shouldn't be too long.''

Hastily, the two women repaired to the bushes, Gabrielle brandishing the scroll triumphantly. The actors sighed and hunkered down, grateful for the rest. And waited... and waited... and waited...

Several candlemarks later, the actors were sitting around a fire, toasting flatbread and muching on dried beef.

From the bushes came another moan. ''Oh, Xena... I mean, Perseus! Yeah, Perseus! Your fierce eye pierces my flesh!''

Another voice answered, equally strained. ''Mmmmm, bardie... I mean, Medusa! Oh, Zeus DAMMIT!'' There came the sound of parchment being hastily unrolled. ''I, um... as I thrust my sword into your tender breast, I am overcome..... overcome with... Ooooooh!''

Tiberius beamed at the other actors. ''They certainly are enthusiastic, aren't they?''

From the bushes came a scream, which might have been pain, ecstasy, or something in-between. ''Xe... Perseus!,'' the bard yelled, ''Keep thrusting!''

Tiberius furrowed his brow. ''Hmmm... I don't remember that being in the play. Oh, well, I suppose she's going for an extempore effect. Rather good, isn't she?'' When the others didn't answer, Tiberius said huffily, ''I mean, Gabrielle, you nits! Her tone is quite good, although she could stand some work on her declamatory style. A bit too loud for the bleacher crowd, I think.''

Ohara, who had finally caught on to what was really going down in the bushes, chuckled. ''Aye, sure,'' she said to the frowning Tiberius, ''t' wee bard's tone sounds fine ta th' likes o' me.''

Tiberius sighed. Davius mumbled softly, then leaned over and rubbed the actor's neck.

The sounds from the bushes grew increasingly agitated... then after a long, drawn-out wail from both women - which Tiberius interpreted as the climax of the play (his unintentional pun nearly making Ohara choke on her olives) - there was silence.

After a moment, Xena and Gabrielle emerged from the undergrowth, Xena adjusting her breastplate, the amazon bard smoothing her hair. Both women's faces were flushed but huge grins stretched their lips.

''Well,'' Tiberius said, rising, ''that certainly was a treat! Gabrielle, you have quite some talent at acting; you should cultivate it, my child. Practice does make perfect.''

Xena and Gabrielle rode double on Argo, the bard behind the warrior with her hands wrapped around Xena's waist. Gabrielle's toes were still tingling from their wild ''practice'' session in the bush.

As they swayed gently to Argo's rocking gait, their thighs rubbing together deliciously, Xena had a thought. Turning her head to the side, she asked the happily contented bard, ''Hey, Gabrielle. Do you think the gods might be involved in this? Again?''

A brilliantly pure white halo of light burst from the heavens and surrounded both women. Unseen spirits bawled hymns of praise and brazen trumpets blared golden notes of inspirational harmony.

Snow-breasted doves fluttered overhead, carrying olive branches in their beaks. A heady perfume, reminiscent of fine and costly incense, sweetened the air and made the two women's heads swim.

As Xena and Gabrielle stared, open mouthed, a chorus of voices thundered from Olympus as the gods shouted in unison, ''NOT THIS TIME, GIRLS!''

With a parting giggle from the gods, the music ceased; the light faded. The Olympian perfume, however, lingered... until Argo, tired of waiting, switched her tail and dropped a load on the road.

The warrior shrugged. ''Who knows? The gods work in mysterious ways.'' Although, secretly, Xena was relieved that she wouldn't have to deal with drunken gods, vomiting heroes and stupid bets... this time.

High on Mount Olympus, the gods chuckled, all except Ares, who whined petulantly, ''I know Xena's gonna blame me! I just know it!''

Finally, Athena, sick of the God of War's bitching, gave him a nuclear wedgie just to shut him up.

They spent another week on the road, with Xena and Gabrielle ''practicing'' the play. So diligently, in fact, that Tiberius was heard to exclaim around the campfire, ''Such dedication! Those two will make a fine addition to the stage!''

Ohara merely rolled her chocolate brown eyes and chortled, wondering if the Roman was really that dense or if he had to practice at it.

The rest of the trip was fairly uneventful, except when the amazon bard and the dark-haired warrior emerged from an exhaustive ''practice'' session in the bushes late one afternoon.

Gabrielle had a long but superficial scratch down the side of her leg - due to an overly enthusiastic ''Perseus'' and a hidden branch.

Osteus immediately hurried over. ''Ah'll have a lookit that laig iffen ya don't mind, Miss Gabrielle,'' the healer drawled. He escorted the amazon to a nearby log and spent several minutes tsk-ing and poking the inconsequential wound.

Finally, Osteus sat back and rendered his diagnosis. ''Ah'm afraid it's gonna hafta come off.''

''Why, yer laig, of course. What with the risk of infection an' all, ah'd bettah perform the operation immee-jetly, if not soonah.''

Gabrielle examined her scratched leg. ''I feel fine, Osteus. And I don't see any infection. Look, it's barely bleeding.''

Osteus sighed. ''Sugah,'' he drawled patiently, ''Ah didn't say there was. But,'' he held up a gnarled finger, ''it might get infected. Gangrene's nutthin' ta fool with. So, you'd bettah let me take that laig off now, afore it's too late.''

Privately, Gabrielle thought Osteus was crazier than a clocoa rat, but decided to play along... strictly for laughs. ''Well, maybe I should wait until it gets infected. You could take it off then.''

''An' when will that be?,'' the doctor asked, ''Ah cain't be expected ta per-dict the future, ya know.'' Osteus roared, ''Dammit, bard, ah'm a doctor, not the Oracle of Delphi!''

Gabrielle couldn't take it anymore. She collapsed, laughing so hard her top quivered under the strain.

Osteus immediately leaped to his feet and shouted, ''It's worse than that, she's daid, Tib!''

Osteus stalked off, mortally offended, while Xena, who had been listening to the entire conversation and holding her breath, fell to the ground beside the hysterical strawberry-blonde amazon and laughed so hard she had to wash out her loincloth later.

At last, the intrepid heroines made it to the Amazon forest, although they wore out three copies of 'The Gorgon's Locks' on the way, causing Soo Liu, who was forced into scribe duty at Xena's swordpoint, to whine about sending a petition to the Actor's Guild.

The two women took their leave of the actors, bestowing hugs and kisses all around - except for Festus, who tripped over his feet avoiding Gabrielle's hug; and Davius, still wearing the strawberry-blonde wig and a brief ivory chiton, who clutched Tiberius' arm possessively and glared at the two women.

Xena blew a mocking kiss to the cross-dressing Roman actor, causing him to hang his head and mumble faintly as he colored.

''Farewell, damsels!,'' Tiberius called as the wagon lurched off down the road, ''Fare thee well! Perhaps we shall meet again...''

Soo Liu, the Oriental swashbuckler, moaned audibly, ''Buddha! How come I never have any love scenes? How come I never get the girl?! Believe me, I'm gonna complain to the Guild about this!''

Ohara's voice was raised in song. ''Beyond Antares...'' she crooned while strumming her lyre, stepping high, wide and large as she realized she'd finally gotten a somewhat meatier role... ''Not to mention this fantastic bod!,'' the Nubian said to herself. ''No more pooch-tummy for me! I don't even care about the ridiculous accent.!''

She started singing, ''Alexandria, here I come!,'' much to the other players disgust.

As the actors drew out of earshot, Xena placed an arm around the bard's shoulders and said with a beatific smile, ''Now, let's go get hitched...,'' she glanced around before continuing, ''my oony-toony bardie-poo.''

Gabrielle smiled and laid her head against Xena's breastplate. ''Fine by me, my sweet widdle dream-rabbit'' she said with a wicked grin, ''as long as we can 'practice' along the way!''

Content of this story copyrighted material owned by Nene Adams and Corrie Kuipers.
Reproduction or any other usage is strictly forbidden unless negotiated with us.
© Corrieweb 1997- 2004