Hands in hands and face to face
whilst here under
the bridge formed by our arms passes
in eternal yearning of the waves.
Night may come and hour may chime
days may pass and with thee I stay. [10]
----------
When she returned to their room, Gabrielle and the baby were still sleeping soundly,
and the
warrior quietly put the tray of food her mother prepared for the bard on the table nearby.
Looking
up, she paused, mesmerized by the peaceful vision glowing softly in the flickering
firelight, *My
bard... my baby...* And for a long, long moment, Xena remained standing, pensive,
recollecting
the events from earlier that day. It was still a blur, the entire time; and it all seemed
unreal to
her...
Unbelting and depositing her robe on the chair, she gently eased onto the pallet,
wanting,
needing to feel the small forms in her embrace. The warrior relaxed into a warm, tender
smile
when her partner instinctively pressed her soft body against hers. Tiny unconscious
murmurs
from her beloved's lips drew her further into the golden waves, gently lulling.
She watched as the fire bounced off honey-coloured tresses, blending somehow with the
dust
particles floating in the air, and felt as if on a magic carpet ready to fly. And her
eyelids closed
slowly at the hazy shimmer.
Without warning, the golden haze spiralled into a portal, and blue eyes snapped open at
the
intrusion, immediately alert.
*Don't wake her up,* Artemis shushed when Xena laid a hand on Gabrielle's shoulder.
Ignoring
the warrior's wary look, the goddess gazed at the mother and child with maternal adoration
and
pride.
*Yes, I can hear your thoughts as well as talk to you in your mind,* she smiled,
finally taking pity
on her Queen's consort. *Well, you didn't need to know until now... Has anyone told you
you
think too much?* The goddess grinned when the furiously turning wheels in the dark head
came
to a screeching halt.
Capturing the warrior's blue orbs, and removing her own gaze from the sleeping forms,
Artemis
explained, *My brother told me all about the delivery. And I just wanted to see the baby
myself.*
She continued, as questions began to form again, *He doesn't do this often.*
Realisation dawned on the raven-haired woman; and suddenly everything made sense... The
darkened sky, the healing hands of the midwife... *And whatever else he might have done to
help...* She expelled a sigh of relief, finally confident that the bard was on her way to
recovery.
Following Xena's thoughts, and furrowing slightly her brows, the immortal corrected,
*No, I didn't
ask him. It was Apollo's gift to you both.*
*Please...* 'thank him for us', she wanted to say, before Artemis interrupted.
She winked at the warrior, *Go thank him yourself. In fact, he expects it.*
Reaching forward, she touched the infant's forehead gently, leaving a silvery mark that
disappeared within an instant. *I'm proud of both of you, my Chosens. You've done well,
Xena;
trust in your love, and let it guide you,* the goddess offered, *I'll always be watching,*
and added
before she vanished once more into the golden light...
"Too bad they went away... If they hadn't, things might be different for our
People..." The
Amazon Queen shakes her head ruefully in regret.
"And maybe for them as well..." The warrior laments, thinking of the children
they were unable
to protect and feeling helpless. *Five hundred years...*
"... Such a long time," she completes her partner's thoughts. "Hopefully
it'll be over soon," she
reflects, and sighs against the soft mounds pillowing her head.
Then the bard's stream of consciousness takes a fluid turn, and the worried frown
transforms
into an expression of deep tenderness, "Thanks for keeping them so well,
Love..." She runs her
hand along her lover's side and clasps her close, *Your promises, I mean.*
*Thank YOU, my bard,* the warrior contends, *For giving me a reason to make them,*
running
her finger lips against fair features, tracing soft lips. *Reasons,* she corrects, and
presses her
cheek gently to the fiery strands of her beloved's hair.
Gabrielle squeezes her mate, feeling their closeness as she stretches her smaller body
over her
partner's, sinking deeper into the golden warmth of their embrace.
Then...
Rather suddenly, acutely, she becomes aware of the gently heaving swell pillowing her
head,
the large hand fanned across her hips, and the strong, muscular thigh ruffling her
curls... And
an unnerving thrill races through her body. As every one of her senses comes alive.
Skin glides sensually along soft skin. She shifts, until her eyes levelled with her
partner's,
drinking in deeply the sparkling blues that blaze with passion and something else.
Responding
to her lover's yearning and yielding to her own, the bard brings her lips to the
warrior's, and
twines herself around the body she loves as their tongues twirl together. Vividly, she
recalls the
very first time their lips touched so many years ago, and reflects how every kiss they
share
seems to be just as explosive, if not more so.
Exploring, and savouring the taste of her lover's mouth, softly sucking and nibbling
her partner's
tongue, a trembling sensation courses through the blonde; and she remembers an exquisite
sweetness more intoxicating than the honey of the stars.
Gabrielle smiles when she feels her lover shivering to her visions of the past and what
she
intends to do in the very near future. Then, fingers insinuating themselves in her hair,
palms
pressing along the dips and curves of her shoulder and back, and powerful legs parting her
thighs bring her back to the present. And the small, lithe form moulds further to the
warrior's,
bodies fitting together, flesh on heated flesh.
*Nooo, I want...* She almost screams, when her partner rolls them over, her protest
silenced by
her lover's probing tongue, frantic. Devouring, as she matches her demands. Within
heartbeats, she becomes completely engulfed in her warrior, her desire escalates and burns
to
a fiery ache.
*Oh, Xe...* The bard swoons with pleasure and need when her mate's lips swirl downwards
and
glue themselves to the sensitive spot on her throat, ravishing, responding to her
increasing
sighs. The heat gathering at her centre distracting. Craving connection, moaning deeply,
she
reaches up and brings her lover's mouth back to her own, and kisses her hotly, thoroughly,
with
abandon. Drawing her partner deeper into her.
And lips tremble in passion and disappointment when unexpectedly the delicious,
torturous
assaults cease.
Taking a calming breath, she opens her eyes, searching, and whispers shakily,
"Xena?" Her
fingers trace gently the silent moisture along her partner's cheeks.
Without a word, the warrior captures her slim hands, and places a moist kiss on each
palm...
And arrests her heart when her tongue presses and wipes at the faint scar above her right
wrist,
following and extending to the one by the base of her own left hand... Creating a
different kind of burning. Then, stormy blue eyes gaze deeply into darkened green, she
breathes, "You are so
beautiful," with frank adoration in her voice, "So very beautiful."
Reminding them both of another night long, long ago.
Gabrielle blushes hotly. Even after so many years, her partner moves her like no other. And she feels full... Shuddering with the knowledge that the warrior can arouse her with just a few soft words, an impassioned look, or a casual touch...
Though there's nothing unintentional now about her touches... Intimate, deliberate
expression of
love and trust that they are...
Shimmering blues hold the bard's greens for an eternal moment, before they flutter
close, dim,
languishing with passion. Fingers move slowly from the golden waves of her beloved's hair
over
the entire length of her body...
Her mouth follows...
Between fingers, under arms, between toes, leaving no place untouched... Drawing in
nipples,
tasting powerful, delicious remembrance... Following a trail to her warm centre, inhaling
sweet,
narcotic, intoxicating perfume... Stimulating, paying tribute with her tongue and lips...
Revelling
in her love's little whimpers of yearning, her heaving sighs...
Cherishing...
Remembering a time... With her bard in her lap, hands and lips roaming fondly, playing,
teasing, tantalising... Large hands aware of small life growing... Exploring, supporting,
protecting... Safe. Buttocks to belly, back against breasts, legs curled about hers...
Entwining,
entrancing, yielding... To her questing fingers...
Claiming...
"My Gabrielle," she breathes, burying herself deep within her bard, clinging
closely to her
breasts, sucking in her sweet breath... Savouring the blissful throbbing...
Connecting... Spiralling...
Shifting... Until they are side to side, then face to face... Head pillowing on her
extended arm,
hand reaching back to stroke long dark, dark mane...
Palms fondling, squeezing full breasts... Legs twining, stroking thighs and buttocks,
pulling into
embrace, drawing closer... In an intimate expression of affection, a rhythmic, back and
forth
grinding exchange...
She bends forward, capturing her partner's green eyes in a loving gaze, burning with
tender
longing, searching, expressing her desire... Intense blues sparkle with pleasure as legs
parted,
soft, willing body exposed to her heated touches...
"Oh, Gabrielle," she growls low, as she plunges again into the raging river
of passion,
abandoning to the engulfing blaze, rolling with her lover's gasps and moans...
Hips jerk uncontrollably, "Gabrielle," she hisses, and with a groan
surrenders eagerly to her
partner... Warm palm cupping her mound, insistent fingers insinuating themselves within
her
dark curls, stroking the deeply smoldering fire, inflaming her blood...
Voluptuous.
Sweet, sensuous fragrance tickles her lips, as hot tongue thrusts into her willing
mouth... An
erotic shock... And fingers follow each stroke, bringing forth muffled moans, drawing
intense,
gripping pleasure...
Lips tearing away from intoxicating Amazon wine, she focuses only on this moment...
This
timeless moment... Treasuring the beauty of her lover's flushed cheeks, her quivering
lips, her
body melting to her demands... and the proximity of her soul mate...
*Open your eyes,* she wills, suddenly needing a different kind of connection...
The fire of ardent love burns between blue and green, as they watch each other's
expression
responding to the open, passionate seduction... Each eagerly desiring possession and being
possessed... Experiencing divine communion and intense contentment, feeling confident and
complete, as their yearning joins into one...
Delighting in the connection of soul with soul.
Intense. Electric.
Imbibes in sweet, glorious ecstasy, and in endless, violent rapture. Her fulfilment
complete as
her lover joins her in the instant of bliss.
Divine.
... Quietly, they lay in each other's embrace, relaxing, in a tender repose... In
intimate fusion,
surrounded by the scent of spent ardour. Occasionally kissing, tickling with the lightest
possible
touch...
Sighing deeply, the warrior buries her face between her partner's soft breasts; their
fingers
twining, strong hands holding each other close.
And long, long moments will go by, before their musing returns to the recent past...
"Should we have left them alone?" Xena asks, as she recalls the scene at the apartment.
"Yeah, I'm sure they'll be ok," the bard responds, after extending her sight.
Their children are still absorbed in conversation, as they have been for the entire
afternoon and through the early
evening.
"But..." She begins again, thinking about something else.
"There's really not much else we can do right now," the blonde exhales
softly. *I think...* she
adds, brushing wild, dark tresses from broad, richly tanned shoulders.
"... You think?" She rasps, anxiety apparent in her voice... At least to the bard's ears.
"Yeah, they still have some time... I hope they do," her lover sighs,
*Otherwise...* and pauses,
unwilling to pursue that particular line of thoughts.
"C'mere," the warrior shifts, pulling the bard with her as she reclines.
"I'm sorry," she soothes
gently, "Always worry too much, huh?" And grins crookedly, sheepish.
"S'okay," Gabrielle breathes, lacing her fingers with her partner's, and
allows her mind to drift
fondly to another time...
Butterflies and birds brought with them the promised kisses of Springtime, colourful
flowers
luxuriated in fields of green, marking their second season in Amphipolis. It was a
glorious time
in the small village, full of joyous laughter and bright hope for the new cycle...
For a while, the bard was afraid that Xena would go insane stuck in one place; and she
was
relieved to find her partner relaxed and happy during their stay. In truth, Gabrielle was
surprised
that her warrior had kept postponing their return to the Amazons' for the little one's
naming
ceremony. In a way, that suited the blonde fine, since they had yet to agree on what to
call her.
And for the most part, the bard was enjoying herself. The baby had started to keep more
regular
hours, allowing her time to rest. After moons of being doted on, and treated like a
fragile
creature, she was looking forward to doing things for herself. Lately, she had been
feeling
strong enough to even resume staff practice, with Toris as her sparring partner, while
Xena
instructed from the shades, with their infant in her arms.
The joy that Gabrielle felt watching her warrior with the baby was beyond comparison,
and the
intense emotions that filled her heart, indescribable. Sometimes, she found herself still
amazed
at how tender her mate could be at one moment, cooing softly to their daughter when she
thought nobody was paying attention, and how like a fierce panther protecting her cub the
very
next. And not a day would pass without her thanking the gods for bringing them together,
then
giving them this precious, beautiful gift.
Still, she missed being alone with her partner... Just the two of them, out in the wide
open,
under the evening stars...
"Let's go for a walk," she suggested again to Xena, as they lounge around the
main room, after
Cyrene had closed the inn early for the night.
"You sure? It's chilly out," the warrior asked, keeping one eye on the
bassinet that hadn't left her
side all day, every day.
"Yes, I'm sure," the blonde pressed against her lover, and purred, "No,
it's not," unmindful of the
twinkle in the blue eyes watching them.
"And it's not windy, nor raining, and I don't need you or Gabrielle here for
anything," the older
woman chimed in, preempting all of her daughter's excuses. "And the baby has just
been fed,
and she won't be waking up for a while," she added for good measure.
"But... but..." She protested, her gaze shifting between three pairs of eyes,
one sultry, one a
little too gleeful, and the other, to her dismay, closed in sleep. Trapped.
"No 'buts', Xena, I've raised three children," Cyrene insisted, anxious to be
with her grandchild
away from her daughter's watchful mein for the very first time. "I can take care of
her for a few
candlemarks."
"Come on, Xena, I'm going crazy cooped up in the house!" She emphasized,
"When was the
last time we took a moonlit walk, just the two of us? Can you remember?"
"But..."
"C'mon, Love, don't worry... Your mother will take very good care of her."
"But, Gabrielle..."
"I'll let you... If we..."
A low chuckle escapes the warrior's throat, as she recalls their evening alone in the
glade, and
how well her lover kept her words...
*Are we really doing the right thing?* Gabrielle ponders, her thoughts returning to the
present,
*What if Michelle can't...?* Effectively freezing her partner's waggling dark brows in
mid-motion.
*She can, she must... 'Sides, once she gets inside, we can follow and help...* Xena
assures,
hugging her close.
*Hopefully...* The bard sighs, returning the embrace.
Actually, they both had their moments of worries and insecurities, afraid that they
wouldn't be
good parents, concerned that they weren't doing the right things, and wanting only the
best for
their daughter... The girl with Xena's dark hair, Gabrielle's fair complexion and
brilliant smile,
who Cyrene and Hecuba both claimed looked like their respective daughter when they were
young... The precocious child who grew up to be a great warrior and benevolent ruler, who
had
chosen to stay in Life for as long as there's need for valour, goodness and compassion...
Remembering all the wonderful moments, though unlikely for them to ever forget, the
warrior
and bard smile, their faces lit with pride, contentment and joy...
*You know? I still wonder...* Xena muses, as her mental meandering returns to the
beginning.
She and the bard never found out how Vesselina was able to see Michelle's birth, or what
made
it happen. And it wasn't until that moment did they discover the rare connection between
their
two children... The same one that binds the pair despite distance, through the years, that
exists
even now.
*Me, too,* her partner concurs. *But I'm glad it did though,* she smiles lightly, and
her warrior's
lips curl up in response. "And you know what I think?"
"What?" A pair of dark brows rises with a feral smile; she dares her lover to
continue, knowing
exactly what the blonde is thinking.
"I think you're such a romantic," Gabrielle teases. It was her mate who gave
Louis the idea to
name the infant in memory of her mother. "Even if you don't like to admit it,"
the bard adds, as
she makes to bolt from her partner's grasp.
"C'mere," the Warrior Princess menaces, "Let me show you..." And
follows her beloved's
squealing laughter... Into the depths of Elysium.
==========
==========
Oh in my sleep draw near my couch,
As Laura appeared to Petrarch,
And in passing by your breath touches me,
At once my lips
Shall part. [11]
----------
The misty rain at dawn has built to a thunderous storm by noon. Pale violet and white
blossoms
splay open their petals and drink in sweet nourishment from the heavens above. And a veil
of
gentle melancholy penetrates the earth, its intricate lacing obscuring the confines of
bright
emerald about stark grey stones; the even greyer towers blended with the surrounding deep
evergreens. Beyond the darkened dormers and windows, only the eyes of a scrutinising
observer could discover barely perceptible movements from within.
The young mistress of the chateau, in her deep juniper and indigo silk brocade robe,
stands
silently behind a half-closed window. The stillness of her carriage, the serenity in her
pensive
mien, the calm distance in her pale aqua gaze, nevertheless betray the disquietude she
feels in
her heart.
A week, it has been raining incessantly for a week now. A full seven days since her
last visit to
Touraine... In her study, Michelle looks out to the rain drenched field below, and
imagines rows
upon rows of crimson and deep magenta rose bushes in her new garden. Her thoughts
involuntarily return to a particular evocative fragrance, a certain bewitching smile. Time
and
again. Miles away.
Behind her, a pile of books both old and new lay on the desk, next to it, an equally
large stack
rests on the carpeted floor. Michelle has spent the past days raiding her brother's book
shelves
which she had kept mostly untouched since he left for the war.
Sitting in his library, the young woman gradually opened herself to the many
remembrances of
their past, memories she wasn't sure if she'd ever be ready to deal with. And she finally
allowed
herself to experience the grief that she had kept bottled up for almost four years.
*Perhaps it's the Spring rain...* When the carefully constructed dam finally broke
open, she just
closed her eyes, and let the moisture cleanse her, comforted by the warmth she felt
enveloping
her person, despite the chill. *Somehow...* Somehow she didn't feel as lost and alone
anymore... *Maybe someone was watching over me... Peut-etre...* She had felt a presence.
*Etienne, was it you?*
*Ou... C'est toi?* Michelle looks towards the horizon, at where the sun would rise, and
relives
the serene twilight hours they spent talking, her smaller body nestled in the older
woman's
embrace. She still couldn't understand it, and she doubts she ever would, but this
connection
they have... *Something I can't rationalise away... Something I've always wanted...* It's
an
attraction the young blonde has been powerless to resist, a longing she cannot deny even
if she
tried. In spite of the incredible circumstances, Michelle finds herself believing.
And she has gathered every book Etienne had on Hellenic and Balkan history, in addition
to the
ones she purchased from her favourite bookseller. For some reason, her brother had always
had an interest in those areas of the world, and many of the stories he entertained her
with when
she was young revolved around the peoples' ever-changing cultures, and lasting legacies.
Involuntarily, her attention drifts to the monumental Delacroix copy her brother had
commissioned for her... *Mon Dieu! How much of everything is all coincidence?* Michelle
wonders for the millionth times, *Is there even such a thing?*
Expelling a deep breath, and reaching behind, she rubs her tensed shoulders, then turns
towards the painting which rests on the easel in the middle of the room. The young woman
has
spent much of her time staring at the portrait, and comparing it to the photographs
Vesselina
gave her. She couldn't detect visible, drastic changes in the image during the weeks she
has
had the painting. But sometimes, especially under different types and degrees of lighting,
the
foggy haze surrounding the woman seems to shift and thicken, Michelle'd swear.
"She's walking towards the fog," Vesselina had told her during their first
meeting. And at the
time, Michelle thought that was perhaps the craziest thing she had ever heard. She still
thinks it
the strangest, but she's no longer willing to discount the idea.
*Bernard, what would you think?* Again, she wishes her confidant were there with her.
Maybe
he could help her solve the mystery. Besides, the chateau seems so empty without him. *I
hope the seas to Indochine aren't too rough...*
When they were younger, he would tell her stories from his father's homeland...
Magical,
romantic folk tales, they were. And the young blonde has always loved and adored them, and
wishes she could read the language and the books herself. Faced with the enigma of an
enchanted painting, Michelle wonders if somewhere in that tome of literature contained a
similar
tale, and maybe even had the solution. She wouldn't be surprised if it did.
*Ah, bien.* She smiles fondly, recalling his gentle words, and how understanding and
supportive he was when she told him about her quandary. Like he has always been. "Be
careful. Listen to your head and to your heart," he had told her, "but do follow
your heart."
*D'accord, Bernard, J'suis d'accord...*
*Perhaps I'll see you again soon,* her grin expands as she remembers their house near
the
outskirts of the city. The government had provided living quarters for Bernard when he
first took
up his post as a diplomat. But after Michelle joined him, they found this ancient manor
once
owned by a Mandarin, and both fell in love with it. In almost every way, the structure was
unlike
Mondestin, which will always be her home, but sometimes Michelle finds herself missing her
life
there. *Et tu me manque, mon frere... so much... I will see you again,* she knows, no
longer
unsure.
*It's interesting... and funny...* The young aristocrat muses, as her gaze lingers on
the portrait of
the long-haired woman. *I'm feeling so different now... So much seems to have changed...
And in a very short time.* And in her heart, she knows their cause. *Dieu merci!*
"Seigneur le veuille..." She softly prays, "Help me help her, s'il vous
plait." The idea of the
curse, of a tragedy that would befall Vesselina scares the young blonde. And, like the
older
woman, Michelle is convinced that she's somehow inexplicably entwined in this puzzle, just
like
their lives appear to be.
*No matter how long... or what it takes,* Michelle promises she would figure out the
mystery
behind the strange art work.
Turning back to window, she watches, as the rain continues to pelt, the small rivulets
that run
across the pebbled paths below. And her attention focuses once more on planning the new
garden. This would be the first time Michelle works on the design by herself, as she had
left the
task to Jacques, the gardener, when she was away. *First plan since...* She shivers,
remembering leaving with Bernard after Etienne's funeral, in the dead of Winter.
The corner of her lips curves up fondly as she travels further into the past, to the
last planting, of
the three of them bickering and teasing each other and having fun, actually digging and
getting muddy and stuff. A small mischievous chuckle escapes as she recalls the old
gardener's exasperation at their unmethodical ways. *Maybe this year...*
*If only...* She sighs softly and shakes her head at the fleeting thought, then looks
up again at
the horizon, hugging herself tighter.
*Perhaps...* Unbidden, visions of intense green-blue eyes assail her once more, as the
sweet
perfume lingers in her memory... And Michelle recalls the magical night she spent at
Chinon,
talking with Vesselina until dawn.
It was peculiar, to say the very least, to see her whole life appear literally in open
books. In
passing, Michelle had considered if the sketches and papers they were drawn on were
forged.
However, she wouldn't know why anyone would go through all that expenses and trouble, and
for no certain, foreseeable gains. That would make no sense at all.
And, so, time just flew by unaware while the two women went through Vesselina's
sketchbooks.
It was as if they had known each other, had grown up together, like sisters, best friends,
reunited
after a brief separation... Laughing, sharing, getting reacquainted... And they didn't
realise how
late it was until Sofia called them for dinner.
Supper was a casual, pleasant affair which brought back memories as well. The live-in
French
maid served provincial dishes similar to those Maurice, her Chef de cuisine, would make
when
le Marquis d'Estin was alive. Michelle had enjoyed them when she was growing up, and
always
missed them when she was travelling with Etienne throughout Europe before the war...
The young mistress of Mondestin smiles, remembering Maurice's shocked delight when she
requested some of her childhood favourite dishes the next day. *Perhaps it's about time I
restore some sense of normalcy here. Oui,* she nods to herself, as her thoughts return
again to
the evening in Chinon...
The young aristocrat hadn't expected the silver-haired woman to join them at the table,
but she
wasn't too astounded either that she did. Michelle delighted in getting another chance to
observe the interaction between her new friend and her housekeeper. She was quite touched
by
the ease and openness of their intercourse, and could easily see the caring and love that
flow
freely and undisguised between them. Listening to and joining in their lighthearted
banter, and
laughing with them, the young woman found herself almost envious of their relationship.
And
she wonders again how it would have been like if her mother had lived, *I wish... ma
mere...*
Sighing, she redirects her musing.
The best surprise though, was when Sofia excused herself at the end of dinner and
brought back
dessert: a Bulgarian dish of walnut topped baked squares smothered with hot vanilla syrup.
Vesselina teased that her nanny must have taken a liking to Michelle, since she usually
has to
beg to get Sofia to make them. Michelle didn't know whom the good-natured raillery was
directed at, but she didn't care; she thought she had died and went to pastries heaven.
*Mmm...
wonder if she'll give Maurice the recipe...*
After Sofia turned in, Michelle and Vesselina retired to the study and continued with
their chat.
Neither of them was tired and there was sort of an unspoken understanding that Michelle
would
stay the night. Besides, it was too late for her to drive back.
Lounging on the divan, the raven-haired woman told Michelle about herself, and her
family, her
ancestry. Her deep voice quivered with deep affection as she spoke of Ilyana and Dimitur
Anastasov, her parents, and of her aunts and uncles' and their involvements in the
campaigns
for her country's independence. She further related with sadness and regret how one of her
father's older siblings sacrificed herself during the April Uprising. And Michelle
involuntarily
reached out to the older woman; she knows how that was like. *La guerre... Will we ever
stop
fighting?*
Vesselina also described to the young woman the red brick manor she grew up in, the
houses,
the pebbled streets in Vidin... And how she loved spending her days with Sofia at the bank
of
the Danube, sketching, watching the ships sail in and out by the port, and admiring the
river's
beauty... *Encore une coincidence?* She ponders with amazement.
Michelle also learnt that Dimitur somehow decided to leave Bulgaria with his family,
just a few
years before the Balkan collapse, and the Anastasovs settled in Lausanne. *That's explains
her
fluent French,* the young woman surmises. Thinking about her favourite Swiss city, framed
by
Lake Geneva and the Alps, with its picturesque houses and graceful cathedrals, the blonde
was
glad that the Anastasovs escaped when they did. *Perhaps Bernard's right about the
benevolent
spirits of one's ancestors protecting one... Otherwise...* A slight tremor courses through
her
trim frame as she contemplates the different possibilities.
The fair blonde still doesn't know how she and Vesselina had managed to meet. Looking
up to
the darkened green-blue eyes with her light tresses spilt across the older woman's lap,
she
asked her friend what she would have done if she hadn't shown up at the auction. But
Vesselina simply smiled mysteriously, and said she was sure she would be there.
Thinking back to that night, Michelle decides it really didn't matter if theirs was
indeed a chance
encounter. Whether or not she wanted to admit it then, she was drawn to the woman when
their
gazes first locked. And despite the initial nervousness, she had been most comfortable in
the
older woman's company; she had felt contented, happy, and safe.
And she wraps the warm robe tighter about herself as she recalls their shared hug, and
the
chaste kiss the taller woman placed on her lips before she left... Her cheeks flush hotly
when
she remembers the conversation her friend had with Sofia over breakfast. They spoke in
Bulgarian, but based on Vesselina's vigorous protests and the look the silver-haired woman
gave her, Michelle sort of guessed what it was about... *C'mon, stop it! Nothing
happened!*
She shakes her head and chastens her own suddenly pounding heart.
Looking down at her garden, the young blonde conjures up the vision she had when she
first
scented the rose perfume at the auction house. She still hasn't figured out where the
memoire
involontaire came from or of whom. However, in her mind's eye, she now sees the two of
them
frolicking in the jade green meadow... Joyful and carefree... *Mon Dieu! Cut it out!*
Wisps of
blond bangs fly about as she wrinkles her nose at herself in annoyance.
After drawing the heavy curtains further open, and securing the tassels that bind them,
Michelle
turns away from the window and returns to her desk. She opens the sketch book Vesselina
gave her, and thumbs through the photos of the mysterious painting which are already
engraved
in her memory... Slowing down as she reaches the more recent drawings of herself... Then
stopping at the page covered with a neat, elegant script. In the same handwriting on the
small
piece of parchment which Michelle had kept, the older woman poured out her impression of
Michelle's last concert at the Theatre des Champs Elysees. The emotional yet perceptive
account still amazes the young blonde, *Someone who actually understands and shares my
vision...* And she isn't sure who's more moved, the artist or the audience.
Turning the pages over to another series of drawings, the fair blonde picks up her
mother's
aryballus which she had retrieved from the Salle d'Armes, where weapons and personal
artifacts
of generations of d'Estins are kept and displayed. When Michelle was growing up, she would
wander into the armoury, looking at the armour and insignias, and dreaming up stories
about her
ancestors. And often, she would hold the clay pot in her hands, inhaling the lingering
scent,
imagining being held safely in her mother's protective embrace...
Breathing deeply, she blinks away the moisture in her eyes, and settles her attention
once more
on the sketches, and on the similarities between the characters on the ancient earthenware
and
the ones on the page. Michelle can tell they aren't exactly the same, but she suspects the
dissimilarities were due to changing styles of writing from different periods, and nothing
more.
She makes a mental note to ask Vesselina if she knew what the letters mean when they next
meet, "Agh! Confound it!" and swears softly at the loud crack of thunder and the
still pouring
rain.
Then her aqua gaze rests on the drawing on the overleaf: a sketch of the other side of
the token
which her friend wears, which she still finds perplexing... *Who are they? They looked so
much
like us...*
And she stares at the portrait of the two women, deep in thoughts, for a better part of
the
remaining afternoon...
==========
==========
As one in Death, together in Life,
This is the oath I take with you:
I hold your hand
As token that I will grow old with you. [12]
----------
On this clear, warm, cloudless night, the moon shone brightly across the starlit sky, her silvery splendour flooded the main chamber of the temple, and commingled with the torches' brilliant flames. The chief priestess, Calandra, sat behind the altar in her simple, white ceremonial robe, while similarly donned priestesses flanked her sides.
Before the trio, Xena stared impassively ahead; only her frequent glances towards the entry way at the far corner bespoke her unease. On this night, the raven-haired woman stood before the incarnation of Artemis, not as the Warrior Princess, nor the Queen's champion, but simply as herself, a woman, a mere half of a whole. She was nervous. And once again, her fiery blue eyes flicked to the darkened doorway, through which she knew Gabrielle would eventually emerge. Ephiny, dressed in her full warrior garb, met her gaze, and smiled reassuringly, to the tall woman's solace.
And for a brief instant, Xena rested her eyes almost longingly at the Regent's attire, the Amazon's newly polished sword and leather contrasted starkly with her own vulnerability. Her battle dress and weapons had always been a shield, a defense, for far more than the obvious; and she felt naked without them, especially now. Involuntarily, she tugged at the silver cord which held her thin silk tunic in place, and further tightened the knot at her waist, levelling the tasselled ends with the mid-thigh-length hem.
Aside from simple sandals, the only adornment she wore was the black-gold braid on her wrist: a reminder of her and her bard's connection. Xena was grateful that it was there; at the moment, that, which usually stayed hidden under her vambrace, was the only thing grounding her, allowing her to retain a semblance of control.
*What's taking them?* Xena looked to the doorway to her left for the millionth time. Gabrielle had spent a better portion of the day in the inner sanctum of the temple, finishing her part of the prejoining rituals, praying to her God, and getting ready for the ceremony.
*Artemis...* A giddy smile fleeted across her dark features when she recalled the goddess' recent visits to them...
When the two of them reached the decision to formally and publicly bind their lives together, it was simply a natural progression of their relationship... Though it took nearly losing the other more than once for each to finally acknowledge her special love for her companion. In addition to all the other things the couple went through... Few of the people who knew what happened between them thought they'd ever be friends again, let alone anything more. And for a long time, neither did they.
However, both warrior and bard were unwilling, and unable, to cast aside this connection they had; they refused to give up on each other, their deep friendship, and their love. Somehow, slowly, gradually, they'd worked through their difficulties... And their love emerged stronger, grew and flourished. They both accepted the other's strengths and weaknesses; and through all, each partner learnt more about herself and her companion... Surprising themselves occasionally, cherishing each other more, and finally becoming what they were this day.
*But it's still hard, after so many moons, to talk about some of the things that happened...* Xena sighed inaudibly, recalling their earlier conversation.
For the longest time, the warrior wasn't certain why her bard agreed to their joining, she wasn't sure if she deserved her. She was also concerned that the Amazons wouldn't approve of their union, and was relieved when they did. As she had always known, Gabrielle could be very convincing; and the warriors saw their young liege as the ruler that would finally bring peace to the nation, and they didn't want to risk losing her. Besides, the Amazons were confident that nobody could better protect their queen than the Warrior Princess.
The tall woman shook her head slightly, *I doubt they'd think that if they knew what had happened with Velasca...* And she wondered what the council would say if Artemis hadn't ordered them to keep secret what had transpired... Xena could still see Ephiny's bruised and battered body in her mind's eye, and feel the Regent's shiver of rage and fear in her own blood. She remembered the way Gabrielle knelt in front of her, and begged for her mercy... and the deep love warring with distress in her tearful green eyes.
*Your love... Everything you did... For me...* She breathed deeply, and let that thought calm her anguish.
All the Amazons saw was the former warlord's moment of control at the end of the challenge, when she refrained from running her sword through Iona; they had expected her to finish the deceitful warrior off. However, lurking near the surface of her memory, still, were all the things she did while under the mad god's control.
"C'mon, let it go!" Deep in her heart, she heard Gabrielle's anxious plea, and obliged. *What have I done to deserve you, my bard?* Her gaze shifted once again, and fell in disappointment at the empty doorway.
*Guess you're right about the lesson...* She forced a smile, remembering her own nagging dread and the bard's reassurances. The brutal acts of violence she once directed at her friend had scared the warrior, even though they were only figments of her darkest fantasies. While Gabrielle had freely forgiven her, Xena remained fearful of what she might do to the bard in a moment of madness. And it'd eased her mind knowing that she couldn't hurt her partner even under Velasca's evil influence, with god-induced hatred. *Had that not been a fantasy... Had Velasca been successful...* She shivered imperceptibly, not daring to contemplate the alternatives.
*S'pose I had to forget myself to know myself again...* Then the grin became genuine, *But I've always known, have always been sure, Gabrielle, that you're my source, my light.* And Xena closed her eyes, recalling their time in the cave, immediately after the ordeal...
She had, out of love and honour, asked her partner if she wanted to call off the joining, or at least postpone it, after what happened; despite herself, the warrior thought she should give Gabrielle a chance to think things through. And it was an ultimate exercise in control for Xena when the smaller woman remained silent for what appeared to be an eternity, before she twisted around in the warrior's embrace, and gazed up at her with an unreadable expression. *Gods... I...* Finally, with a simple, whispered "No," and the softest, tenderest kiss, the bard kept her heart, her world, in tact. *I'm glad, my bard.* Her smile expanded to match the sparkles in her blue orbs.
*Artemis.* Remembering the goddess' visit the night before, the raven-haired woman sent yet another prayer of gratitude to the immortal. All she had allowed herself to hope for, and wanted, was the God's approval of their joining. While it would not have stopped them if she didn't, Xena preferred she did; the warrior didn't want her bard to give up anything more than she already had for her.
*Gods...* Not only did the immortal aid them in their recent trials, and gave them her consent for their joining, she had chosen to bestow upon them the most precious gift the pair could ever hope for. *My bard...* She blinked, wanting to make sure she was awake.
That morning, with her head pillowed between her partner's fair bosoms, the soothing sound of her strong heart beating against her ear, they talked about this unexpected favour. For the first time...
It was amazing how she could successfully lead or fight off an entire army, and be so tongue-tied and insecure when it came to her bard. After several reprises of "Gabrielle?" - "Hmm?" - "Um... Nevermind..." her bard, as if reading her mind, just chuckled and quipped, "I don't think Artemis would be amused if we turned down her gift." Cradling her cheeks gently, and bringing her head up, the young queen added, her green eyes shining, "'Sides, I really want this... Have always wondered how it'd be like..."
"I'm sorry I didn't..." The warrior choked, her voice low. *Give her a chance, handle the whole thing better, control my hate, listen to Ares, talk to you like any normal person would... Sorry I let you down...* She wanted to say, she had, in her own mind, many times...
"No, I'm sorry..." Gabrielle reached up hesitantly, and whispered.
Holding the smaller hand softly but firmly against her own cheek, Xena bent down and silenced the bard with a kiss. There was still so much guilt in both their minds, each having since shifted the hatred and anger to blame for herself; and while the pair had absolved each other, they hadn't quite been able to forgive themselves. And there was still so much hurt, so much pain, it was difficult for them to talk about all that had happened.
"... because of me and my foolish decisions... I'm glad I've now a chance to give you perhaps a semblance of what you've lost... " Gabrielle smiled weakly and continued after she recovered her breath.
Just as Xena was about to protest, the blonde shushed her, and guided her dark head back to its original haven and revealed, "But that's not what I was talking about before." Stroking the warrior's raven hair tenderly, the bard resumed, "When I acknowledged my love for you, us, our love for each other..." She swallowed, her soft voice full of emotion, "Xena, if I can help it, if it's within my will, you'll be the only one... I've always thought when we're ready to stay here, we'd maybe adopt a little girl, someone to pass my right of caste on to when the time comes... But sometimes I can't help but wonder how it'd be like to have a child that's a part of you, a part of us... Perhaps Artemis decided to answer my prayers..."
The warrior looked up to her partner in surprise, "And mine, too. You wouldn't believe how much I've thought about that, my bard, despite myself... And how many times I've wished it were possible." She confessed. *But I would have loved any child you brought into this world, Hope too, if I had another chance. I was so scared and feeling so terrible over everything that had happened... Khrafstar was right, I shouldn't have brought you there. And I couldn't bear the thought of anything else happening to you... If there was a chance that Dahak could turn her against you and hurt you, I wasn't willing to take it...*
*Still, sometimes I can't help but wonder if you were right... Especially since the goodness, the love in you changed even a warlord like me...* Xena thought torturedly. Instead, she attempted, in a sensible tone, "But you know I wouldn't have minded, or at least would have understood if... Or, if... you'd like another..."
"I know, Love," her partner pulled her close, and capturing her attention by the intensity in the stormy green orbs, "But I mind... Only you, Xena, I mean it." And the warrior felt her breath caught as soft lips seized hers in a deep, searching kiss. She knew she shouldn't feel this way, but she couldn't help it... And something... a big bubble... just burst and filled her heart with contentment and happiness...
*She's carrying our child. We... Us... Mine. Ours.* The queen's betrothed was too excited at the moment to finish a complete thought. And she fought unsuccessfully to hide the giddy smile that came unbidden to her face.
Xena was saved when suddenly she sensed a movement from the doorway. She looked up, just in time to see her bard coming out of the sanctum, escorted by two priestesses. Meeting the brilliant green jewels, her smile froze and her chiselled features beamed. *Glad the entire village doesn't get to see me grinning like an idiot,* the warrior mused fuzzily; she had other more pressing concerns, *Breathe, Xena, breathe.* Her heart stopped, then skipped merrily again when the bard smiled back at her.
*Ok, ok. Breathe!* She had to remind herself as the enchanting vision of her bard neared. And what a vision it was... Her honey-gold tresses glowing in the moon and fire lights, flowed loosely and framed her soft features like a halo. Her firm, lithe body was sheathed in a length of soft material decorated along the edges with scroll designs in light green and silver. A metallic cord, like the one that held together her own dress of the same fabric, crossed from the bard's right shoulder and wrapped about her abdomen; while a length of thinner silk held in place by the robe covered her otherwise bared arms; both framing perfectly her rounded bosoms.
However, what really took the woman's breath away, were the radiant green orbs, sparkling with devotion and love, holding her own captive. In the temple of Artemis, Xena felt as if she were seeing her partner for the very first time, yet knowing her to be the other half of her whole, the person she'd want to spend the rest of her life and beyond with. Her heart raced and thudded. And part of her yearned to rush over and gather the bard in her arms, but the other part, the one that fuelled her nerves, held her in place.
And as if in a dream, a beautiful dream that she'd be content staying for eternity in, Gabrielle stopped next to her left, her small hand reached for her larger one. Xena kept her gaze, her smile, her attention completely focused on her soulmate, utterly mesmerized, and only vaguely aware of the priestesses moving in place for the commencement of the rites.
Timeless moments later, Calandra's voice began to hum barely within the edge of her consciousness. And only until Gabrielle lifted her brow and gave her hand a tug did she realise it was time to take their joining oath...
"Together in life, as one in death..." Their two voices spoke in unison.
Xena didn't even feel the pain, only the loss of her soulmate's warm hand no longer in hers, when Calandra took the ceremonial knife and made a cut at the end of her lifeline on her left hand. She winced slightly at a similar cut being made on her partner's right palm, though her brows uncreased when Gabrielle captured her attention with a barely audible, "I love you." And the dark woman felt whole again when the priestess took their hands and clasped them together, their fingers laced. Her smile widened as she felt her partner's digits gently, reassuringly, rubbing her knuckles.
And she could feel the mingling of their blood. Their lives. Their destinies. This was official.
"I take your hand..." They vowed and held their linked hands up, while Calandra wrapped a narrow strip of long, white silk over them, forever binding the couple as one.
Before the pair knew it, the ceremony ended. Ushered by the Regent and the priestesses,
the Queen and her consort exited the temple, and were welcomed into their new life
together by a village of cheering Amazons and guests.
==========
==========
To my dearest, the most beautiful one
Who fills my heart with light.
To the angel, the immortal idol,
Eternal greetings.
How, incorruptible love,
Can I truly express what you are...
To my dearest, my most beautiful one. [13]
----------
The revelry was still in full swing when the door to the royal hut closed, blocking out the sounds of merriment and music. And the newly-joined couple smiled brightly at each other and at what the Amazons had done for them while they were away. The fragrant scent of Spring blossoms filled the air of the sparsely but elegantly decorated main chamber, illuminated by pale moonbeams and dozens of flickering candles.
They could see garlands of their favourite flowers hung high above the large, newly constructed bed. Items the pair had picked up during their travels, along with gifts they received from their sisters and friends, were now tastefully displayed on walls and shelves. Next to the armoire, which stored their clothes and personal things, stood a low chest especially made for Gabrielle's scrolls. And the warrior's weapons hung above, directly next to the queen's feathered mask; an extra hook had been set below for when Xena received hers.
*This... This is ours,* the tall woman thought happily as she scanned her surroundings once more, *Our home...,* as her fair partner led her by the hand towards the dining table laden with cut blossoms and light foods.
Sitting down, she poured a goblet of wine, and leaned back in her chair, watching intently as Gabrielle, still slightly breathless from dancing, buried her face in the fresh blooms. Her own breath caught when green eyes looked up, and with a tender smile, her mate moved slowly towards her, almost as if floating in her long chiton.
Falling onto her knees, the young queen reached up and placed her palm gently against the warrior's cheek, then she touched her partner's lips, very softly, with her own. Before Xena could object, the bard broke away from their kiss, and reached for the goblet still in the large hand, taking a drink from it, then placing it on the table.
Without a word, the warrior gathered her beloved in her arms, and settled her onto her lap. Her blood boiled when her mate pressed her lips to hers, and they shared the mouthful of sweet, intoxicating wine. It felt cool, yet fiery hot, as their tongues tangoed, exploring, savouring the taste and feel of each other's mouth.
Infinite, endless moments later, she drew back and brushed her lover's blond tresses away from her face, tucking it behind her ears gently. Her blue orbs holding her partner's green ones captive, "You're so beautiful, my bard," Xena whispered, deep love and frank adoration in her hoarse voice, raw desire burning in her hungry eyes.
Gabrielle lowered her eyelids, and smiled shyly, avoiding her mate's intense, ravenous gaze, and snuggling closer. *This is silly,* she thought, considering all the things they'd already shared; but she was nervous.
It was almost like the first time they made love, so many moons ago, in Cyrene's inn, in her warrior's old bed...
Everything that led to the unexpected kiss was a blur; but she could never forget the jolt of energy that passed between them as their lips touched. She had heard how furiously their hearts pounded as they reached out towards each other, and had felt how their breath quickened as sleep tunics dropped to the floor in a puddle. She could still recall the profound joy she felt when her larger partner slid down her own body, until she knelt before her... Her dark head against her torso... Her strong, powerful arms about her waist holding up her trembling frame.
So long. Too long. Before she was finally able to act on what her heart and body wanted... Like the way their souls had done long before they were willing to admit to themselves...
Right now, she felt very differently than when they danced, just moments ago... When silk whispered against silk, her body fitting to her warrior's as if moulded together, her lips seeking out soft, warm places... Completely oblivious to the attention of her Amazons.
Tipping her chin up gently, and drinking deeply from verdant depths, Xena could sense the bard's anxiety. And lovingly, she picked up her partner's slim hand resting on her chest, and began licking the shallow wound, leaving trails of glistening paths along her arm. She grinned at her fair beloved's heaving bosoms, and chuckled as Gabrielle whimpered and leaned further into her embrace.
Again, and again, her lips returned to the small cut at the base of her lover's palm. Their wounds had stopped bleeding, and the length of silk that bound their hands together had been untied, long ago. Although neither woman would have minded keeping it on, and their hands remained clasped for most of the evening. The knife Calandra used to pierce their skin was dipped into special herbs and made to scar; and this mark was one which both of them would carry proudly and gladly. To the Warrior Princess, the cut on their hands was a trophy from a battle that was the fiercest, that she'd fought the hardest. But it was also the most important, the most worthwhile, and with the most at stake.
And Xena was sharply aware of her bard's soft form against hers, the heat radiating between their bodies distracting. "I love you, Gabrielle," she purred sultrily by her partner's ear, flicking her tongue out and drawing in a lobe, while reaching up to cup and caress full breasts. Her smile became feral as her lover's nipples arched against her palm, and at the bard's sharp intake of breaths.
Swiftly, her grin turned into a soft moan, when Gabrielle took her face between her slender hands, captured her lips, and kissed her fiercely. Her moist, hot tongue pressed boldly into her mouth, ravishing, in slow, heated strokes.
Eventually, without breaking their kisses, the taller woman stood up and lowered the bard onto the floor. Gabrielle pressed tightly against her, wanting to meld their bodies together, as her hands busied with the knot at her partner's waist. She groaned with frustration when she couldn't get it undone.
A resulting low chuckle escaped from Xena's throat, and she removed a hand from her mate's body, but not before giving her hips a firm squeeze, eliciting another defeated sigh. Taking over the task, the warrior teased, "So impatient, my bard."
She loved the sound of those words, words she was accustomed to, but which now held a new level of meaning for her. *Yours, forever,* the bard promised. *And mine,* she smiled when her warrior brought her palm to the loosened knot. "I love you," Gabrielle mouthed, suddenly unable to find her voice; and she looked up to her partner, her green orbs glistening with happiness and love.
Trembling lips met hers, searching, questing, deepening their kiss in a passionate dance. Xena felt her mate's agile fingers releasing the knot, and the silver cord that glided down her thigh and calf before Gabrielle gathered the ends, and draped it along the back of the chair. She shuddered as slender hands ran up her thighs to cup her buttocks, kneading, fuelling her already raging desire.
With a small cry, the bard tore her mouth away from her lover's. She drew back just enough for her to undress her mate. Soon, the length of pale silk joined the rope on the seat. Her anxious hands now clutched at Xena's broad back... Her hungry mouth seized a ready nipple, nursing, drawing the surrounding flesh in... Evoking from the warrior deep, throaty moans and whispering sighs of her name, which floated about, drew her close and wrapped warmly about her person, completing her being.
Growling softly, the young queen pushed her consort back and onto the table so that her long legs dangled from the edge. And without ceremony, she delved into the moist heat ravenously, parting delicious folds and tasting her lover's essence. Her tongue stroked in and out, urged on by her mate's increasing cries. And very eagerly, she massaged the throbbing softness, drawing out the warrior's pleasure, revelling in it... Until Xena screamed her name in release.
She continued with her torture, kneading her partner's firm, swollen flesh with her lips, latching onto sensitive parts, sucking and teasing furiously with the tip of her tongue. "Gabri...elle!" She heard, but unwilling to stop as she savoured the intense sensation of her partner clenching against her fingers in blissful spasms. Hers was an insatiable hunger, a craving, a yearning, a need that demanded to be fulfilled.
Still later, she felt a hand on her shoulder, long digits twining into her hair gently, meekly beckoning. "Gabrielle?" The warrior breathed, as her fierce beloved teased forth and swallowed another series of spasms... Finally relenting, the bard grabbed her long train, and climbed up her partner's quivering body, fine silk gliding sensuously across smooth plains. The blonde smiled and moaned softly as her partner did, as she settled her smaller body atop, pressing against still tender places.
"I love you," the raven-haired woman breathed, her eyes stormy with emotion. Her hand reached up gently to wipe the glistening moisture from her partner's chin; and she gasped softly when Gabrielle captured her fingers and wrapped her tongue sensually about her long digits. "Gods," she nearly swooned.
Grinning mischievously, the bard bent forward and kissed her partner, sharing with her the sweetness. When they parted long, tender moments later, she looked down with a slightly impish smile, "YOU are beautiful, my warrior... My Love."
"Woohoooo!" Suddenly, the lovers heard happy squealing and clapping from the direction of their bed. Their heads whipped around to meet the unmistakable voice.
"Aphrodite!" They exclaimed in unison.
Gabrielle turned to face her partner, and dropped her head onto the crook of Xena's neck, "Oh, gods, not again..." She groaned softly. The past couple days for them had basically been a succession of ill-timed intrusions by Artemis and various Amazons.
"What do you want?" The warrior asked absently, while stroking her lover's breasts, tugging at hardened points straining against thin silk; she refused to heed to any further interruptions, especially not on this night.
Closing her eyes, and inhaling deeply, "Xena, stop," the bard reluctantly appealed to her partner. "How can we help you?" She asked Aphrodite, deciding she didn't want to know how long the goddess had been there.
"Like, I didn't come here to, like, break up a major love fest," the immortal sat up and threw up her hands defensively, "I just wanna see how my favourite couple is doing. But, like, I see I don't have to ask!" She winked. "Hey, like, you don't have to stop on my account," she resettled on the bed, reclining, resting her head on her palm, and fluffing out her hair.
The warrior smirked at the raging fire in her partner's intense green eyes warring with the rising flush on her cheeks. She decided she'd better take control of the situation, *And get her out of our hair,* she thought, raising on her elbows.
"Like, what happened to showmanship?" The Goddess of Love pouted.
*Control, okay, control,* Xena breathed. "What do you want," she asked in a tired voice.
"That's, like, so totally unfair. I'm just here to give you the, like, most to die for wedding gift," the goddess whined. "Or at least the second most to die for," she added, rolling her eyes, and rambled on, "Like, I'm, like, so totally green that Artemis came up with, like, such a totally rad gift for you guys."
"We'll take a rain cheque, Aphrodite." Gabrielle grumbled, shaking her head. Both her partner and the immortal furrowed their eyebrows in response.
Then, unexpectedly, the goddess' face split into a wide smile, "Oh, I get it! Yeah, like, that's totally tubular!"
"Aphrodite..." Xena tried again in forced resignation.
"Ok, ok, like, chill out, Warrior Babe," the goddess complained and let out an exaggerated sigh of exasperation. In less than a blink of an eye, the immortal disappeared in a golden haze and reappeared almost immediately next to them. She peered and giggled at the warrior's hand fondling the bard's breast inside her chiton. And the Goddess of Love giggled again at the fair blonde's rising flush, "Oh, like, don't be embarrassed, it's not like I haven't seen it before!"
And in reply, two sets of eyes narrowed in her direction.
"Oh, all right!" Out of nowhere, a small silver box decorated with gold swirls appeared in the immortal's open palm.
Gabrielle picked it up, "Thanks." She looked at the small container's intricate design with interest, and briefly wondered what it was.
"Well, like, open it up already!" Without waiting for the bard to act, the goddess reached in and pressed the fuchsia jewel on the side; and the lid sprang open. She tipped the box, and a token fell gently onto the small outspread hand.
The bard smiled brightly when she saw the moulded image, "Gods, Aphrodite, this is really nice," and commented with appreciation.
"Yeah, isn't it awesome?" The immortal chirped excitedly, satisfied with herself. "I over heard your warrior babe the other day thinking about having a portrait of you so she could, like, carry it around and look at it when she misses you and stuff," she revealed, ignoring Xena's glare. At the bard's rising eyebrow and widening grin at her partner, the goddess nodded, agreeing with Gabrielle's thoughts, "Yeah, like, I thought that's, like, so sweet, too." Seeing the warrior's reaction, she stifled a giggle, and continued, "So, anyway, so, like, I went to Hephie, who made this, by the way, and, like, even he thinks I couldn't have, like, think of a better gift to give you even if I, like, tried or something. And, like, it's even, like, a portrait of both of you."
Now it was Xena's turn to feel her cheeks burn; she hated getting caught at being sentimental. The warrior smiled crookedly at her mate, *Oh great, now she's going to want me to explain.* She remembered when she first thought about commissioning a portrait of her partner, at the celebration several days ago, when they officially announced their joining, *Hopefully, she won't ask... Ha.*
"Here," Aphrodite turned the token over and spoke seriously in a rare moment of clarity, "This part of your wedding vow," pointing to the words carved in relief, "Is also the key to when, and if, you ever want your other present." Ignoring their utterly confused look and their silent comments on her normal speech, the goddess smiled. "Don't worry, you'll understand," she simply said.
"So, now, where were we?" The immortal squealed enthusiastically, reverting to her old self. Reading the couple's minds, she relented, "Alright, alright! Sheesh, a girl knows when she's not wanted," and pursed her lips together in disappointment. She perked up again half an instant later, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" Her eyes glinted with laughter. "Toodle-ooooooo!" and she disappeared with the shimmering light.
Gabrielle gazed tenderly at her partner. Softly, she pressed their joined image to her lips, before putting the token back in its case, and setting it aside. And smiling sweetly, she ran a finger along the warrior's still faintly coloured cheek, tracing a line down her jaw.
"Umm... Love, it was when we made the announcement, and you were..." Looking so beautiful, the warrior was going to tell her partner, and about the portrait she wanted. But the blonde's gentle thumb on her lips silenced her. Before she could catch her breath, soft mouth descended firmly upon hers, offering... Lovingly, deeply, thoroughly... And Xena moaned under its power.
"Gabrielle..." She breathed between passionate kisses, "I love you... so much..." sitting up, and shifting her bard in her arms. Without breaking their connection, she worked at untying the silver cord about her fair beloved's trim torso. "Yes," she gasped huskily, when the silken fabric fell, exposing full, rounded breasts, her hands reaching for her mate of their own volition.
"My bard..." Xena nuzzled near her partner's ear, "My love..." She licked and kissed a path down her lover's throat, before dropping her head to capture a nipple. Her mouth and tongue teased the excited flesh; and she smiled when Gabrielle arched against her and pulled her in. The dark warrior felt her insides melting at her mate's soft noises mingling with breathless "I love you"'s, and being filled by them.
Unhurriedly, the Warrior Princess eased off the table with her queen in her arms, and without haste, she divested her partner of her pale green garment. And the feel of Gabrielle's lips on hers, her strong arms about her neck, her full breasts, soft skin, pressed against hers... made her dizzy with desire and passion. Xena let her instincts carry their bodies, across the room; and she very gently deposited her soulmate onto their bed.
Looking deep into the other's eyes, the warrior and bard each saw the
profound love and devotion reflected back at her own. Mingling cerulean and bright green,
they both whispered, "I love you, for always," an open statement, a fair truth.
And the lovers fell into its eternal embrace.