DISCLAIMER: Xena, Gabrielle, Argo, etc. are
©copyright MCA/Universal and Renaissance Pictures. I don’t own them, I just play
with them for a while and, like the good girl I am, I put them back when I’m
done…okay, they get a little worn, but hey…I play hard! Absolutely no Copyright
infringement was intended in the writing of this fiction. It’s intended as flattery
toward the creators, writers, and actors of the characters. All other characters that
appear are ©copyright Devlin@xenafan.com . This
story cannot be sold or used for profit in any way. Copies may be made for private use
only and I’d appreciate if you included all copyright notices and this disclaimer.
VIOLENCE WARNING: There is violence (come on
it’s the Conqueror). The nature of the story is not nearly as dark as some Conqueror
fiction, but it’s essence is still the slave / master relationship that exists
between Xena & Gabrielle.
TIMELINE: My own making. Xena is the Lord,
Conqueror of Greece, but she is almost forty-five years old when she meets the slave,
Gabrielle. Many of Xena’s evil ways have been sedated, but not all. I call this Xena
the “thinking woman’s” Conqueror. She is a woman who wants to try to do the
right thing, but doesn’t always know how.
SEX: Yes, I’ll have some, thank you. Ooops! I mean, yes there is. It is our favorite
two Soulmates, after all. It’s not gratuitous, but it is quite explicit when it gets
going. This story shows consensual as well as non-consenting love (master/slave), sex and
yes, even some light bdsm between two adult females.
HIGH ANGST WARNING: I was threatened within an
inch of my life if I didn’t start putting this disclaimer on some (all?) of my work.
I will henceforth rate the angst content with sad faces, one being the lowest and four
being the highest. This story earns: L L
(2 sad faces for those without TT Fonts)
UNDERAGE WARNING: Hey, the Supreme Court said in Reno v. American Civil Liberties Union (1997) that
laws against making available, online, certain “indecent” materials for those
under 18 was unconstitutional…look it up! Besides, this is perfectly
“decent.” J
I only know
how others feel about my stories from feedback. Let me know what you think...homophobes
need not apply, however. I’m at: Devlin@xenafan.com
**Special thanks to Jim Kuntz for his permission in using any Lion of Amphipolis references.
The Conqueror Series
Tale One: Journey’s End
By LJ Maas
The soldiers
began to march out by the time I said my farewells to Telamon. I made my way down the
stone steps, enjoying the coolness of the spring breeze. It was chilly enough to wear a
cloak during the day, which would precipitate the need for a tent at night. The wagons
that held the supplies, food, and tents for our caravan came last. I saw Gabrielle
standing quietly beside Sylla and my healer, Kuros.
Kuros was an
odd little man, another of my hired workers as opposed to slave. He was an Etruscan from a
land far to the north of Greece. In my pirate days, before I was even known as the
Destroyer of Nations, I defeated a band of Etruscan pirates near Corsica. The healer on
board the ship was adept in a number of healing arts that I was not familiar with. In
exchange for his freedom, Kuros taught me the seemingly magical healing techniques he
knew. Once faced with freedom, the small man promptly turned around and asked to be my
private healer.
Sylla said
something to Gabrielle and the blonde nodded as my maid climbed into the wagon beside
Kuros. I walked up to Gabrielle and indicated that she should follow me. I had to slow my
naturally long stride considerably and as it was, Gabrielle was still nearly running to
keep up.
“Lord
Conqueror,” Atrius said, handing me the reins to my horse.
Tenorio was
a midnight black Stallion that had the power of a bull and the grace of a butterfly. He
was a warhorse unlike any other and I considered his worth beyond all the gold in Greece.
The proud animal never felt anyone’s seat on his back but my own, but I had faith
that the animal would accept the small additional load that I had in mind.
“This
is my new…personal slave,” I said to Atrius, not really knowing why I refused to
use the words, body slave. “Her name is Gabrielle.” I finished and Atrius
nodded his head in the girl’s direction.
“Gabrielle,
this is Atrius, he is the Captain of my armies. If I ever become separated from you, then
his is the face you are to look for. Do you understand?” It seemed as though I had to
ask Gabrielle specifically whether she understood me or I would never hear her utter a
word.
“Yes,
My Lord.”
I vaulted
onto the stallion’s muscled back and held out my hand to Gabrielle. I could see her
swallow and when she reached for my hand, I noticed that she was shaking. I leaned back
into my saddle.
“What
are you afraid of?” I asked in confusion.
She looked
up and it was the first time her eyes met mine, without me forcing the issue. She looked
at the beast again and said softly, “He is very large, My Lord.”
I laughed
and those around us turned to watch. It was a rare sight indeed to see me laughing, but
the small girl’s fear seemed to make perfect sense. She was at least two heads
smaller than I, and I thought that if I had her build, I’d be a little worried too.
“Give
me your hand, Gabrielle.” I commanded and she obediently did as I asked.
I lifted her
easily into the saddle in front of me; after all, she weighed no more than a sack of figs.
I settled her so she was leaning against my body and the warmth that caused between my
legs was a sensation I had long grown accustomed to being without. She peered over the
side of the horse’s back and leaned back once more.
I gave her a
sincere look as we set off. “Don’t worry, Gabrielle, Tenorio won’t let you
fall.” That being said, I put my arm around her waist and pulled her back against me.
It was a long time before I removed my arm from her waist.
*********************
A few
candlemarks passed and I began to notice Gabrielle squirming in the saddle. I could have
asked her what was wrong, since I already had my suspicions. The girl drank four mugs of
water just before we set off and I suspected she was beginning to feel it. I wanted
Gabrielle to speak for herself, though, and this was my subtle training technique. I
didn’t want to spend the rest of my life with a young woman who was afraid of her own
shadow, so I decided to be as kind to the girl as my limited temper would allow.
Gods, what
was I thinking lately to say things like that? How does one consider spending their lives
with a slave, one that I really know nothing about? A master and her slave can carry on
many types of relationships, but not as ruler and consort, it’s just not done. Is it?
She lasted
one more candlemark until my uncanny hearing picked up the small request for attention.
“My
Lord?” she whispered.
“Yes,
Gabrielle.”
“I…may
I have permission…for a trip to the bushes?” she finished.
I veered
Tenorio off the road and Gabrielle looked genuinely surprised that I didn’t merely
deposit her at the side of the trail. With my soldiers marching along, the last thing I
wanted was my personal slave relieving herself in full view of them. We rode up a slight
incline, into a forest glade and I dismounted first. Once set down on the ground,
Gabrielle seemed unsure if she could continue. Suddenly feeling rather ill at ease, I
backed up, the horse’s reins in my hands.
“I’ll
just…um, be over…so you can have some privacy.” I muttered awkwardly.
It was the
first time I’ve said the word, um, since I was twelve years old. What was
coming over me? Gabrielle looked at me as if I’d suddenly grown another head.
Privacy? Slaves don’t care about privacy! I turned and walked back the way we came,
strolling along, letting Tenorio drink from the small creek that crossed our path. It
wasn’t long before I heard Gabrielle return to my side.
“Feel
better?” I asked with an amused grin.
Again, that
surprised expression on the girls’ face. Gods, did no one ever to talk to her? I had
to keep reminding myself that Gabrielle was a slave. In the last few seasons I surrounded
myself with so many hired men and women, that it was taking me a little time to remember
what a slave’s life was like. Of course, no one spoke to her, least ways to ask her
opinion or how she was feeling. She was property and most slave owners thought that asking
a slave how they felt would make about as much sense as asking your horse the same
question.
I saw
Gabrielle nod and I cleared my throat before I spoke.
“Gabrielle,”
I paused until she looked up at me. “I can only assume that in the past you have
either been ignored or abused in some way for revealing your opinion. I think it’s
important for us to establish some rules to this relationship of ours.”
Did I just
say relationship? Gods, that’s not what I meant…or was it?
“If you
are to serve me on a personal level then I will desire more than simply physical pleasure.
I have a need for…a need for companionship.” I said, looking down to see what
effect my words where having on the young slave.
Gabrielle
walked along beside me, her face as expressionless as ever. I took a deep breath and
wondered whether this whole thing was going to be worth it. Training a slave to be my
companion? It seemed as redundant as paying someone to be your friend. This girl was timid
and fearful, and spent most of her life developing the submissive skills that would keep
her alive as a slave. I couldn’t expect her to forget a lifetime of training in one
day. I took in another deep breath and could only guess whether or not Gabrielle would
even care to be placed in this situation. In the past, what a slave wanted was never my
concern. Now, I felt that it was important, but I couldn’t say why, only that it felt
that way. My patience, or rather the lack of, is legendary. Did I possess the forbearance
for such a task as this?
Again, I
stopped walking, and when I stopped, Gabrielle halted. We came to another creek, a little
larger than the first tiny one we crossed. I could see that Gabrielle would have certainly
followed me, walking right through the freezing water, but she wore decorative
women’s boots and mine were made of thick leather, and meant for the outdoors. I
easily lifted her up and placed her back on the ground on the other side of the brook. The
amazement on her face was becoming pretty commonplace, but I felt I had to comment this
time.
“Sylla
would never let me hear the end of it if I let you ride the rest of the day with sopping
wet boots.” I said, continuing to walk on out of the woods.
We strolled
through the grassy field toward the road and I resumed my conversation. “Like I said
before, I understand that you may have been punished for your thoughts or your opinions,
but if we’re to spend time together I don’t want to feel like I’m talking
to a brick wall. I want to hear from you, Gabrielle. I want you to know that when I ask
you a question, if you speak the truth, you will never be punished for the answer. Do you
understand what I’m saying…what I’m asking of you?” I asked, pausing
to lift her chin up in my direction.
“Yes,
My Lord.” She answered, and I figured now was as good a time as any for a little
test.
“Gabrielle,
do you want to walk for a bit, or are you ready to ride again?”
She
immediately looked up at Tenorio, walking beside us. The animal’s back was past the
top of her head and the look on her face told me that mounting the animal again was
equated with scaling a tall mountain. I wanted to see if she would answer truly, and as it
would always be, the young woman surprised me.
“I
would much rather walk, My Lord.” She answered tentatively.
“Then
walk we shall.” I answered and I turned to her so she could see the smile on my face.
She
didn’t return the smile, but her eyes brightened a bit and I thought that was a
start. I didn’t use my smile much, at least not this genuine grin. I didn’t
count the feral sneer I used in battle or pronouncing sentence on a captured enemy. This
is the one I reserved for moments when something really pleasured me, and those times were
few. It usually felt out of place on my face, a brooding scowl felt so much more natural.
However, I smiled for Gabrielle, in part to express my happiness that she understood what
I was asking of her, and also because it felt rather right.
We walked
for another candlemark and I noticed Atrius sent some members of the palace guard back to
watch my back. After all these seasons, I still forgot that because I was the ruler of
Greece there would be people who would want to kill me, despite the fact that the country
enjoyed a state of economic prosperity because of me. Perhaps I was growing complacent as
I grew older, but I was still a fearsome warrior and it rarely occurred to me that I
wouldn’t be able to handle any foe I should come up against.
If the
others were any closer I would never had said the things I did to my young slave. We
walked along and I found myself telling things to her that I barely knew I felt. I even
got her to answer me on occasion, but getting an opinion from her was nearly impossible. I
did learn a little of her past, but even gleaning that information proved not to be
without its challenges.
“Gabrielle,
how old are you?” I asked.
“Twenty
summers, My Lord.” She answered.
“How
long have you been a slave?”
“Since
the season I turned ten, My Lord.”
“And,
how long since you’ve been a body slave?” I continued.
“That
same season, My Lord.” She answered, and I thought I heard a catch in her voice.
Gods, I
winced inwardly. She has been serving in a master’s bed since she was a young child.
Surely even the Fates could not be that cruel.
“The
world is not always what we would like it to be.” I stated quietly, and I knew the
young woman agreed, even though she held her tongue.
“Gabrielle,
what is your greatest desire?” I asked, thinking I was phrasing this badly.
“My
Lord?”
“A
wish. If you could have anything you wanted, what would it be?”
I expected
her answer to be her freedom. Could there be anything a slave would desire more? Again, my
small slave gave me the answer I never expected.
“To be
able to write my stories. I mean, to be able to have the time and the supplies to put down
all the stories I have in my head, on scrolls, for others to read.”
“Very
interesting. Can you read and write?”
“Oh,
yes, My Lord.” She answered and I thought I heard a bit of accomplishment in her
voice.
“Rather
impressive.” I added, knowing that few slaves were ever given the opportunity to
learn to read and write.
“Do you
think a master is going to let a slave spend her days in this fashion?” I questioned.
I wanted to see how strong her desire for this was.
“Perhaps…”
she began in a small voice, “perhaps if I was very good…and very obedient.”
She let the sentence trail off; realizing, I am sure, that the dream was completely out of
reach for her.
That’s
when it struck me. Perhaps this is why the small blonde’s demeanor was as submissive
as any slave I ever saw, why she accepted anything that befell her, and why she performed
any task that was commanded of her, without question. Perhaps she was hoping that if she
were subservient enough, some master would take pity on her and allow her to write her
stories. What an odd desire for a slave to have.
“So,
this is what you would choose above all else, eh?”
Gabrielle
nodded her head and I don’t even know how or why the thought entered my head, but it
seemed terribly important for me to be the one to make this young slave’s wish become
reality.
“I
don’t think that should be too difficult a task for us to fulfill once we return
home.”
I said the
word home as if it meant something more to me than simply a palace that I ruled
from. Certainly, it seemed to feel like more now. Perhaps it was being away for so long,
but possibly, it had something to do with the young woman who walked beside me.
Gabrielle
bowed her head, but suddenly, her gait seemed lighter, and if it wasn’t really a
smile on her face, it came awfully close.
“My
Lord?” she asked.
“Yes,
Gabrielle?” I continued on, without looking down.
“May I
have permission to ask a question of you?”
I smiled
inside. “You may.”
She
hesitated for a moment, and then looked as if she decided to throw caution to the wind.
“What
do you wish for?”
The question
she asked surprised me every bit as much as her reply to my own query. Of course, I could
have answered in a multitude of ways, but standing here, with this young woman by my side,
I could think of only one thing I truly wished for.
I stopped
and looked down on the slave, tilting her chin up to look directly in my eyes. She always
seemed unable to do this, but she came very close this time, her eyes shifting nervously
under my direct gaze.
“I wish
that someday, you will touch me because you want to, Gabrielle, and not because you are
commanded to do so.”
Turnabout is
fair play, and as I released her chin and turned to continue walking, I knew that my
answer surprised her for a change.
To be continued in Chapter 4: A Conqueror’s First Kiss