Love is the way messengers
from the mystery tell us things.
She shines inside us,
visible - invisible, as we trust
or lost trust, or feel it start to grow again. [18]
-----------
How can this be? Seeing I know not a man? Certainly it cannot be!
Might this be a punishment from the powerful Ahura? Turn Thee unto me and have mercy upon
me, my God! Upon thine altar mine afflicted heart I lay!
Judge me, O Ahura, only by my innocent heart unto which my spouse it doeth belong. Condemn
me not if hath my vanity Thou offended! My heart boasteth not of pride. Full it is only of
the gladness into which my Love doeth put.
Examine me, O beloved, and prove me! Layeth not my veil in sin where thine honour
dwelleth. Drinketh from my lowly vessel no one hath but thee. Only in thine eyes have I
sought favour. Only in thine eyes have I found sight.
Unto thee I fall on my knees, my Love. Before thee I lay bare my soul! Withhold not thou,
prithee, thy tender mercies from me! My spouse, my beloved! Conceal from me thy loving
kindness will my soul destroy.
O Ahura! How plead my cause might I to my spouse? How be I once more acceptable in her
sight? O God my God! Teach me my path!
**********
The warrior and the bard were just as surprised when they learnt of their child's condition. The eternal couple knew that somehow their children's love had moved a god. And they were delighted that this god had decided to give their descendants a child, just like Artemis did for them.
Xena smiles, remembering the night their own daughter was conceived. They didn't have conscious knowledge of the gift then. *At least I didn't.* She kisses the upturn cheek.
The warrior recalls the indescribable joy that flooded her heart when her soulmate shared with her the unexpected news... the same joy that she still experiences, and gives thanks to the gods for...
"I love you, Gabrielle."
"And I love you, Xena." She feels it too: the profound joy that had warmed and comforted them, that had given them faith in Life. It provided them a reason to go on when their trials became too great, and let them trust and believe... It still does.
"So, you think that's Aphrodite's gift, huh?" The blonde gazes up to her partner, and asks, her soft voice hoarse, verdant depths brimming with emotions.
"That's what Solan thinks." The taller woman brushes her lips against her wrist, remembering the day they received their son's message from the Fates. She didn't want to lose him again, for another Lifetime. But it was his choice. Just as it was her mother's to return to Life, to love and care for her grandchildren...
*Too bad they don't remember us when they're with the living...* Gabrielle sighs reflectively, following her partner's musing.
*Yeah...* Xena agrees. Then, her eyes sparkling in remembrances, her low voice teases with a chuckle, "You did ask for a rain cheque."
"I'm glad it worked." The bard flushes slightly, recalling the night of their joining, and smiles tenderly, her attention shifts to their beautiful child sitting beside them, who looks so much like her warrior...
And remembers how ecstatic they were when they found out Ava was with child, even though the news was bitter sweet...
"I hope he's staying longer with us this time?" She's missing their boy
already, but is excited that he has chosen again to return to Life.
"Well... time is relative," her partner drawls, "My Love," and nuzzles against her fair tresses. *It's never long enough...*
"Hey, philosophising is my job!" The bard jests outwardly, but in her heart, she agrees, *I know...*
"Probably not very," the warrior finally replies to her mate's earlier question. "You know how he misses his grandma." Blue orbs close in recollection, of the time her mother learnt of her son, and when they met in Elysium. *And...* She glances lovingly at their blond child.
"And he loves her," her partner supplies, remembering the wistful regret in his eyes as he watches Michelle from afar. *I know you miss Cyrene, too.* She reaches up, and places a gentle kiss on her partner's chin, acknowledging her unspoken thoughts.
*... and he wants to try to make it up to her... somehow...* Xena returns the affectionate touch, and finishes the sentence for her soulmate.
"So, he's sure it'll work out, huh?" She asks. But looking at their children, and feeling their connection, Gabrielle has herself very little doubt.
"He hasn't been wrong yet!" Her warrior grins, proud of her son's abilities, and how he turned out. *Were it not for him, where would we...* She shudders inwardly, and turns again to her partner, "I wonder how he knows these things."
"Well, he IS your son," the fair blonde wraps her arms about her soulmate, and smiling gently, she affirms, "My warrior of many skills," her voice soothing.
"Funny he looks more like you than me," Xena quips, trying to dwell not in the past but on the present.
"What? You just noticed?" She looks up to her beloved, going along with her jesting, her eyes widen in mock surprise.
"Umm... I just thought he took after Lyceus, or something?"
"A child who looks like his uncle... Huh..." Losing herself in the moment, Gabrielle allows her imagination to run away with the idea. "Hey, that'll work!"
"Yeah, it would," the dark warrior agrees. "But I think we're a little ahead of ourselves," she adds, turning her gaze towards their children. Involuntarily smiling, as she listens to the two sharing stories of Vesselina's ancestors. And inevitably, Xena's musing returns once more to the painting, which still plagues her descendants. She decides, "We all are, including Solan."
**********
Fear not my child. She came and spake unto me. She who calleth herself mine ancestor
did! Need thou fear not with thy beloved thou sharest this joy: for that which is
conceived in thee is of her very own!
Her God whom her prayers heard granteth you this gift. And unto thy beloved thou shalt
bring forth a son! He shall be great. The house of his ancestors he shall bring glory. The
name of his forebears he shall make proud.
And before my very eyes I saw her transform! Into mine own image she did! Fair hair and
green eyes she did have. Mine own ancestor she too was she told me! Is that why I look
naught like my kinsmen?
Then unto Friyana I went with my cause. All my fear she taketh away. All my sorrow were
for naught. Unto my soul the Iskur floweth. Upon my breasts the Rila falleth. A happy fear
thou instillst in my heart. A blessed joy in me thou dost.
O God my God I praise unto Thee! O mine ancestors I thank you!
I am my beloved's, her desire is towards me. I will bring forth this symbol of our love!
Dwellest thou in my vineyard, which is thine. Make haste, my beloved! There will I give
thee my love!
**********
"Did you really have to do that?" Gabrielle asks, a soft smile tugging at her lips, as she recalls their visit to Ava. *Show off!*
"I thought it would convince her," Xena submits in defense of her actions. *And I wanted her to know you.* She runs the tip of her tongue along the edge of her soulmate's ear. *AND, I do believe YOU started it first.*
"Lucky you didn't scare her more!" She pokes at her partner's ribs gently with her elbow, ignoring her lover's last comment on their ability to transform. Being able to conjure shapes and forms at will and alter their appearances was one of the first skills they learnt in Elysium. Still, the bard colours lightly at the images from her mate.
"I also wanted her to be proud of whom she was," the warrior reflects. Sadly, Ava's unusual appearance was one of the reasons why she wasn't readily accepted by her kinsmen...
"Guess beauty is in the eye of the beholder, huh?" Her partner comments ruefully. They were happy when their dark child chanced upon their younger one during a Spring festival and fell promptly in love.
"Only sometimes, my bard." She presses her soulmate tighter against herself. *Some beauty even the blind can see...*
Gabrielle's adoring gaze meets hers in reply. She smiles, *I know,* with infinite tenderness.
Deep sapphires sparkle as tidal waves of emotions sweep through. And she clasps their linked hands against her lover's breast, feeling only their joined heartbeats.
*And I want her to be proud of whom she has as an ancestor.* Xena shares silently, with reverence, and follows with a series of soft kisses on her soulmate's palm.
Green orbs take on a distant look, and the fair woman sighs, *Yeah, and it also made her suspect...* She reminisces wistfully. The bard is reminded once more of their children's short lived happiness.
*Gabrielle...* The warrior kisses her partner on her honey-golden crown. *They'll be
ok, I promise...* She does, as she raises her glistening orbs to the young couple before
them, and puts her faith in their bond.
==========
==========
And love is a cord woven out of life,
And dyed in the red of the living heart;
And time is the hunter's rusty knife,
That cannot cut the red strands apart:
And I sail from the spirit shore to scan
Where the weaving of that strong cord began. [19]
-----------
Michelle listens quietly, spellbound and mesmerized, as her friend retells the story of her ancestors. For the past week or so, she had thought her self-imposed crash course in Balkan history would help her understand better this woman before her. Now, she realises how futile that was. People may have been partially products of their culture and its history, or their life experiences, but certain things... certain things are simply ineffable...
*How can one be so...* She shakes her head, unable to put what she feels in words, even in her mind. And she watches voicelessly, as her companion closes the ancient journal, takes a steadying breath, and looks up. Misty green-blue orbs hesitantly meet her gaze.
"Do you know what happened to them, I mean, to Ava and her son?" The blonde asks in a small but sincere voice. She needs Vesselina to know that she believes, not just in her, but in... everything.
"I can only guess what happened to her." The slightly stiffened lip didn't go unobserved. "But since I am here, I can only assume that her son lived." Somehow she manages a smile, and a playful quirk of her dark brows.
"Pourquoi?" Michelle looks up to the sky, not certain which of her questions she wants answers to. *Seigneur Dieu?*
"Je ne saurais dire..." Dark head drops with a sigh.
"J'suis..." Before Michelle could react, broad shoulders straighten again, and she was treated to a genuine smile... which she finds infectious despite herself.
"En tout cas," the older woman continues in a stronger voice, "I am sorry I did not know about this journal until very recently, I would not have asked for your help if I did."
"Pour..." A raised hand stops her.
"The changing painting... It is but a myth passed down from generations; perhaps my ancestors thought there was a curse because of what happened to Emil... to them..." Motioning to the bound book, she pauses, and expels a deep breath.
"C'est vrai. But the image of the woman, she is changing..." The blonde jumps at the opening, and counters, "What if it's not just superstition?"
"If it is not," Vesselina regards her sadly, and maintains, "Then I definitely do not want you involved..."
And they hold each other's gaze, each with a different sort of determination.
Meanwhile, Gabrielle sits in her partner's protective embrace, trying desperately to focus on her living children's interaction... and to not let surface what happened... that which she remembers all too well.
She remembers how her children's happiness came to an abrupt end, and how she watched as her young one suffered... The frustration and hopelessness she felt not being able to communicate with Ava or warn her... While Xena was miles away, occupied with the English siege... That it was also the first time they had to be apart after being together for centuries...
And she remembers what she had to do... what she ultimately did...
Xena, sharing her soulmate's distress, yet knowing only fragments of what Gabrielle had experienced, does the only thing she can: she holds her quivering bard, and hopes that one day... someday soon... their love will erase that hurt... that their own, and their children's love will be strong enough to heal those wounds...
Secretly, the warrior wills away her own fear and painful memories from another time... And she, too, tries to pay attention to the present.
Vesselina was the first to look away, yielding to the younger woman's piercing regard. Clearing her throat lightly, she resumes, "Sofia brought this out only a few days ago," gesturing to the leather case. "She said she had been waiting for the right time... It was a part of my aunt's legacy to me," the Bulgar explains. Responding to Michelle's brief questioning glance at the pendant about her neck, she nods and smiles lightly. "Yes, the same aunt."
Somehow that small knowledge only increases in the fair blonde the desire to get to the bottom of this mystery. *Chose etrange, and I don't know why...* Even though her friend had only spoken briefly of Korinne Anastasova, and mostly in the context of her sacrifice during the uprising against Turkish rule, she felt an inexplicable... something... towards her. *Comme Etienne... Peut-etre ...* A small muffled noise of wood on metal interrupts her musing; and she looks once more towards the raven-haired woman, just in time to see her turn the leather case over.
"And she left me these, too." After blowing away nonexistent dust and wiping the painted surface somewhat nervously, Vesselina hands her friend the remaining content of the box.
The young aristocrat finds herself slightly breathless as she cradles the stunningly beautiful painting in her palms. The work is distinctive, in the tradition of Orthodox icons from the Byzantine Empire. "C'est tres, tres belle," she whispers in reverence.
"Oui," her companion bobs her head in agreement. "It was painted with tempera on wood."
She nods absent-mindedly in response. The rich colours and skilful artistry are secondary in their importance to Michelle, who is captivated by the image of the archange Gabriel and la Sainte Vierge. "L'Annonciation?" She asks, without looking up.
"Yes, I believe it is."
There is a sense of classical control in the figures, and the expressions on the pair's faces are subtle. Still, unmistakable is the look of utter devotion and trust on the young, blond portrayal of the Blessed Virgin, and that of pure adoration, the Archangel.
"Are they...?" Michelle wonders aloud, staring at the darker, much angular version of her friend.
"I think so." Vesselina follows the blonde's gaze to her own shirt front. "No, I do not believe they are the same persons," she offers, answering her friend's silent query. "But I cannot be certain. Your father's friend, the auction house owner, as a favour to me, has tried taking this," the woman elaborates, picking up the pendant, "To various museum conservationists, but none of them could figure out when it was from. But these," she motions to the items in Michelle's hands, "These paintings, according to Sofia, are definitely from the Fifteenth Century."
The young blonde had formed in her mind images of the doomed couple as she listened to the reading of the journal. And she had imagined them to bear the same likeness... Still, she wasn't prepared for the impact of actually seeing, and knowing, how similar their features resemble each other's. Involuntarily, she reaches out. "May I?"
"Oui, je vous en prie!"
And with her friend's assent, Michelle picks up for the first time the volume of bound parchment protected by an engraved metal cover. *Ou...* She experiences a jolt of familiarity as slender fingers touch gently the ornamented surface. *Where have I seen this?*
"Michelle?" Alarmed by the slight tremor, the older woman asks, "Are you all right?"
"Oh, yes," she replies hastily, setting the journal aside. "Honest, I'm okay." The young woman assures her friend, and retrieves the second painting from the table top.
Unlike the first icon, which takes the shape of a single rectangular plane, this one consists of two joined wooden panels. Aqua orbs blink in disbelief as the blonde unfolds the diptych. "Quoi?" She gasps.
"I am not sure." Vesselina shrugs. "Perhaps these are my ancestors as well."
Staring at the blond, powerful defender of women and children, somehow Michelle doesn't think so. *Mais c'est impossible!* "This is gold?" She asks, trying hard to mask the shakiness in her voice, and unable to think of anything else to say.
"Oui. In my religion, we believe the precious metal represents light and the sun," her friend explains, "And it is the symbol of truth, incorruptibility, and glory."
The young aristocrat nods in acknowledgement. *The patronage of good and the destruction of evil...* She searches within herself as saint Michel stares back at her, his green eyes sparkle with vitality and strength. Bravely, he battles the red dragon just as described in l'Apocalypse, his wings tipped with flames, his golden armour and sword seemed to be made of fire.
*C'est impossible,* she repeats in her mind. "Mon Dieu!" And calls aloud when she finally shifts her attention to the companion panel.
Unbeknownst to the pair, their ancient ancestresses gasp in surprise as well. Fair brows shoot up in question and mock accusation, while dark ones rise in a noncommittal reply.
"Yes, Michelle?" Large hand reaches out and grasps smaller one out of concern. Smiling at the questioning orbs, now bright verdant against the artificial lighting, Vesselina teases, "Women do have twins, you know? I am not surprised if one of my ancestresses did."
"I suppose you're right," she acquiesces, taking one last look at the fair brunette kneeling at the prie-dieu. Who gazes up, with a pair of blond babes in her arms, towards the warrior-saint who would raise the dead by a blast of his trumpet on Judgement Day. Michelle then closes the diptych, having committed the image to her memory; and she turns to her friend. Interpreting the smile and subtle shift as an invitation, the young woman moves to the divan, and settles her fair head on the broad shoulder. She inhales deeply, and lets the sweet scent of her companion's perfume soothe her frazzled nerves.
"You understand why I do not want you to continue with the painting?" Vesselina speaks quietly after long moments of silence.
"But I want to... I can't stop now."
"But I have just..." She stutters, "I mean, you are too important to... your family." Pressing her fingers gently against her friend's lips briefly, she resumes, "Your... brother, your father's legacy, your parents' name. And your music... Michelle, God does not give you a gift without a reason."
"But if it's a myth, then we'll have nothing to worry about," the younger woman reiterates her earlier protest.
"My father's brother did not marry, and my parents had only me." Shaking her head, she reasons, "So I am technically the last of the Anastasovs. I have only Sofia. Whatever happens, if anything should, it will be upon me, and only me. So it is not a big deal."
The shot of pain in the darkened orbs didn't go unnoticed, and she continues soothingly, "The painting has not been changing that quickly, there is a chance the woman will not disappear in my lifetime."
"But what if it does?" The young woman argues stubbornly. "I... Sofia needs you. What will she do if anything should happen to you? How will she feel?" Reaching up, and holding her friend's gaze captive, she pleads, "Let me try to help, please? I wouldn't want anything to happen to you for... for Sofia's sake... And what if you do decide to have children someday? I wouldn't want the curse to fall upon them either."
Cupping the hand resting softly against her cheek, the older woman chuckles sadly, "I do not think that will happen, Michelle." Then she grins, with a fleeting twinkle in her eyes.
The pair have reached an impasse, and both women know it is impossible to change the other's mind. They sit, holding each other, quietly, trying to lose themselves in the moment, rather than engaging further in fruitless debate.
"Dete!" It's much later when the cheerful greeting breaks the silence.
"We're in here!" Reluctantly, the friends pull apart, and Vesselina calls back. They had stayed on the terrace until dusk fell, and have since moved to the sitting room. "I'm sorry..." She turns to her guest and apologises, with an embarrassed smile, "I know you French frown on..."
"People calling loudly?" The blonde interrupts and excuses in a teasing tone, "Only in public." She winks, and grins sheepishly, remembering Helene's exasperation when she and Bernard ran screaming through the chateau. *And that was just before Etienne left for Dardanelles...* She sobers the instant the remembrances surface.
"Let me check and see how the cooking lesson went." The taller woman stands up, and stretches lazily; then, turning towards her young companion, she asks, "Would you like to come with me? Perhaps you would like some fresh cafe?"
"Sure," Michelle smiles, taking Vesselina's proffered hand, allowing herself to be pulled up from her seat, and into a tight embrace... One which she secretly wishes would last into eternity...
*Hopefully forever lasts much, much longer than this...* She sighs inwardly, as long arms slip away from her trim frame.
"Shall we?" The brunette gestures towards the corridor. "Perhaps we can
talk Sofia into letting you try a piece of custard pie before dinner," she offers,
and manages to tempt forward a brilliant simper.
==========
==========
Faithful to the bonds of love,
trill again, divine little creature!
Oh first nightingale who alights
in the lilacs, beneath my window!
At night or in the morning, how deeply
your hymn of love moves me! [20]
-----------
"Salut, Genie! Salut, Sylvie!"
"Celine! Comment vas-tu?"
"Je vais bien, et vous?"
"Tres bien!"
"Je te presente mes amies, Michelle. Sylvie Dudevant, et Iphigenie Curie. Michelle Destin."
"La violiniste! Enchante! No wonder you looked so familiar before."
"Enchante! Nice to see you again."
"Zdravej, Sofia!" The new visitors both turn to greet their cooking teacher as she emerges from the kitchen.
"Ah, good, good, you here!" The silver-haired woman passes the platter to the maid, and approaches. "You two come! You watch me work." Then without giving either of them a chance to refuse, she took the blonde by the hand, and leads her away.
"I guess I will see you in a while." Her dark companion shrugs hopelessly at her friend and hostess, and smiles again at Michelle. She then turns around and hurries to catch up with the already merrily chatting pair.
"Merci, Marie! You may take the evening off, if you like. We will manage." Vesselina dismisses her maid, then explains to her friend, "Sofia gets terribly excited over occasions like this. She loves to entertain, and show off her cooking."
The young aristocrat smiles brightly in acknowledgment, her mind still transfixed on the previous display. *There's so much joyousness here...*
Michelle was delightfully surprised when the old woman told them she had invited the pair to dinner. And she looks forward to being properly acquainted with the women of whom her friend had spoken so fondly.
"They do make a lovely couple, don't they?" She points out sincerely. While the fair woman had expected Sylvie to be again in masculine attire, she is charmed to see her in a dress and donning rouge.
"Oui, they do. Sometimes the two act like they have been together forever, always bickering over the oddest things, but then one can see they are in love like newly weds," her friend testifies, with mischief in her eyes. Her expression then becomes serious, and she adds, "They are wonderful people."
Taking a small step closer, Vesselina presses her lips briefly to the petite woman's forehead; she resumes, her voice low, "I do not have too many friends here, and I have been wanting you to meet. I know you will like them."
"I'm sure I will," Michelle assures, from her heart. Looking up, she beams, her bright orbs glistening. "Celine?"
"Euh, that is what they call me, Sylvie thinks it is more French sounding." The taller woman grins back. "You may use it, too, si tu preferes."
"Non, non!" The blonde shakes her head vigorously. Somehow that idea is completely unthinkable. "Vesselina suits you... 'happiness' does."
At the gentle, welcomed warmth about her waist, she curves towards her companion... and sees the feeling returned. Without a second thought, she reaches forward, and towards their connection...
And feels herself imbibed in a sea of deep, secure, contentment... as they share a smile...
"So," Michelle begins softly, after her heart regains its normal rhythm, "Sofia is teaching Sylvie Bulgarian?" still leaning against her friend.
"Oui." The older woman breathes, holding the small body near.
"You think she'll teach me, too?"
"I can teach you." She moves slightly away, and asks, "What would you like to learn?"
*Tout ce que tu veux que j'apprends.* Everything you care to teach me. Her soul concludes. Quietly, blue and green blending, "Let me get back to you on that," Michelle replies, then closes once more the short distance between them...
"Dinner all ready," Sofia announces, startling the friends; and they almost jump apart. The old woman stands, waiting by the door, her clear blue orbs gleaming at the pair's flushed faces. Grinning, she takes the young blonde warmly by the arm, and escorts her to the dining room...
"How did you end up in Touraine?" Michelle asks her cosmopolitan-looking new acquaintances, in between bites.
"We were looking to move away from Paris," Sylvie begins. "Since Genie decided she wants to take a break from singing," she elaborates, smiling fondly at her lover. "We don't need to be near the city anymore."
"Then one of our friends told us she knew someone who just purchased a very nice apartment in Chinon," the blonde takes over while her partner sips from her glass. "She thought it'd be perfect for us."
"So we rang this woman up," the brunette resumes. "And she turned out to be Celine..."
"And were we surprised! You see," Genie interrupts, "Our friend never told us who this person was... Obviously, she didn't know we've met before." She giggles, ignoring her companion's glower.
"You knew each other?" She blurts, amazed.
"Yes. We met once," Vesselina affirms. "When we were still living in Lausanne, and I took a vacation near le Rhin."
"Ouais." Golden curls shake vigorously. "And she did us a big favour," she explains, trying hard to stifle her laughter.
"Really?" Smiling along, the fair blonde turns to her friend, "It's a small world."
"That it is, Michelle," she accords, holding bright orbs captive. "That it is."
And she almost lets slipped her fork when expressive lips curl up, displaying a hint of roguishness. Looking away self-consciously, the young woman smiles and allows her curiosity to take over. "What's so amusing?" She asks the other light-haired musician.
"I'm certain you wouldn't want to know," her dark neighbour somewhat gruffly answers.
"I'm sorry," her partner finally composes herself and apologises, "It really wasn't that funny. We were on a hiking tour, and Sylvie almost fell into the foaming depths of the Via Mala; she probably would have gotten hurt if Celine wasn't there to help."
"Well, if you'll remember," the brunette retorts, a smile forming, threatening to betray her serious mien, "I was only trying to stop you from flying down the valley."
"Ah, but you wouldn't have had to do that," Genie challenges, "If you had watched where you were going," with laughter in her voice, "Instead of looking at silly beetles..."
"Things don't change much, do they?" The warrior interjects, as she and her beloved watch their children's expressions shift from amusement to perplexity, and again to amusement. This has brought back vivid remembrances of their life with the Amazons.
"Nope," the bard agrees. She too remembers the many occasions in which her Regent and Solari would tease and molest each other, and argue about things that only they would understand. At first, Gabrielle was concerned, she didn't want her friends to not get along, until she realised what precisely was going on. "I guess Ephiny's still Ephiny in any incarnation."
"I doubt the Ephiny we knew would giggle like that!" Xena chuckles, knowing exactly what her partner meant. Still, she, too, is happy that their friends found each other again in Life.
As the conversation between the living pair takes another turn, the bard sighs. "You warrior types..."
"Hey! What do you mean... Oh." Reading Gabrielle's unspoken remarks, "Reeeally..." the Warrior Princess runs her palms caressingly down her mate's midriff, and grins at the responding flutter. "That's not what you said about me."
"Well, you're MY warrior."
"Uh-huh..."
"Poor Solari," the blonde continues, recalling particular instances from their past.
"She was a warrior, too! 'Sides, it's been my experience," her soulmate maintains, placing tender kisses along her throat, "That bards... can be...," nibbling gently, "Quite... oblivious... as well."
*Not when it counts!* She spins around, and seizes her lover's lips. *You know what I'm thinking?*
*I know...* The warrior grins against the ravenous mouth, and floods her bard's senses with memories of her own.
With great reluctance, Gabrielle pulls away, and leans against her partner, her eyes closed. "You know that only makes me hungrier."
"But at least you won't be thinking about my mother's pastries." Xena smirks, blowing softly into her ear, moist tongue flicking out to tickle.
"Stop that!" The fair woman protests weakly, before immersing once more into the golden haze.
*Really want me to?*
*I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer...*
"Well? Do you?" Her lover draws a teasing path down her chest, and chuckles deeply.
"Hey, listen!" She stills her soulmate's wandering palms, and brings their linked hands to rest about her waist as she leans against her tall partner.
Towards the source of the soft music, the lovers turn. And by the window, soft, delicate notes flow from ivory keys. The melody, soon joined by a warm, smoky voice, fills the late Winter night. Together, they chase away any remaining starkness, and evoke, in the air, unmatched sensuality... as if from the heavens above.
"Her voice is lovely," Michelle whispers to Sylvie. The other woman nods in agreement, beaming with obvious pride.
"That's one of your verses!" She recalls that late night by the fire place, where a deep, sensuous voice recited to her the same dreamy, enchanting words.
"Oui," the poetess admits modestly. "Elle est l'inspiration de moi..." Tilting her head towards the direction of their friend, "Alors, Celine set it to music," Sylvie reveals.
"Vraiment?" She breathes, slightly startled. Closing her eyes, the young blonde listens to the moving music in quiet wonderment, enjoying the husky mezzo, and feeling equally bewitched by the passionate accompaniment that flows from the keyboard. *I didn't know...*
"Do you play any instruments besides the violin?"
Michelle colours lightly, remembering their conversation earlier at the dinner table, where she relates to them the first time she met Vesselina, at her last performance. "Un peu... Just the pianoforte." She pauses, dropping her gaze. "My brother was a pianist... He taught me..."
"I'm sorry," the darker woman expresses, reaching out and clasping her hand briefly. "We heard about the concert you gave. Celine liked it a lot." She grins, responding to the glint in the clearing aqua orbs. "We wish we could have been there..."
The fair blonde smiles her gratitude. As she thinks of a suitable reply, the soft, sustained note of the piano drifted to an end. And along with the rest of the small audience, she cheers.
"Brava! Brava!"
"Would you play something for us, Michelle?" Sofia leans in; she asks, as the applause dies down.
"No, no, no, I couldn't!"
"Oh, please do!" Sylvie enthuses.
"I'm terribly out of practice..."
The back and forth exchange lasted for several rounds... Finally, upon her friend's promise, and being unable to refuse a heart felt "pour moi" from the kindly old woman, Michelle acquiesces.
And she finds herself at the keyboard with Vesselina... After moments of quiet discussions and going through the small pile of sheet music by the pianoforte, the friends agreed on a popular suite for four hands by a contemporary composer.
Intently, the eternal couple listens to the lucid colours of the opening notes. They smile deeply, as Sofia does, while their children play... and notices when their older one slows occasionally for her partner... and when the tempo picks up again as the familiar skill returns to agile digits... As the delicate, supple melody makes way for the almost virile cortege, then the gently expressive menuet... When the younger musician falls deeper into the music... And how the duet turns into a playful game between the two.
The warrior, laughing quietly, was delighted when Michelle initiated the duel by stealing her companion's notes... and to retaliate, her friend tinkers with the rhythm... Soon, their elbows find each other's at unguarded instances... their arms crossing each other's in deliberateness...
Whilst ramparts fall and spirits take flight, in their kindred hearts, the cherished pair feel only the veracity and strength of their untried bond... They lost track of their audience and surrounding... are unaware, even when the other women join in their infectious laughter...
The immortal lovers... and only they... notice the familiar, contented twinkle... in
the ancient blue eyes.
==========
==========
Beautiful one, who holds my life
captive in your eyes,
Who has ravished my soul
with a gracious smile,
Come quickly to my rescue
or I shall die. [21]
-----------
In their old room at the inn, the bard looks around the interior illuminated by candle light. She moves slowly, touching the aged marks on the wall, the carvings they made on their bed, as she does every time they return. In Life, she and her partner rarely had the time to be sentimental, had rarely stayed in one place for long. *But now...* Now that they have all the time in the world, the lovers find themselves back in places of their past, time and again. *Like this bedroom...* Their private Elysium in Amphipolis. *Even though it's not the same...*
Falling into the bed, and closing her eyes, Gabrielle could see in her mind the many happy days she spent here, with her warrior's family... her family. She could sense against her skin the warm, comforting feel of soft, worn linen sheets from her partner's childhood, and taste the reassuring, homelike smell of Cyrene's cooking from the kitchen. *Home... More than Poteidaia or Thessaly ever was... My home, our home.*
It was in this same room where she surrendered to their bond and accepted their destiny... Where she and her best friend made love for the very first time... And it was in this same room, their baby was born... *So many of our "firsts" here... So many memories... Such happy ones...*
Reclining with her arms pillowing her head, Gabrielle lets out a soft sigh. This is also the same place where they inevitably ended up retreating to, then and again, to mend their tattered soul, and heal their bleeding heart... Always with the innkeeper's quiet understanding and support...
*Here, Xena's home...* It was only place where her warrior could think to send the bracelet... *Right after Perdicus and I...* Her chest tightens at the thought of how much she had inadvertently hurt her partner. *And Cyrene...* The older woman had kept the bracelet until... *That day...* She winces, recalling how once more she had almost lost her warrior, just before that particular visit. And the bard runs her fingers involuntarily about her bare wrist. Gabrielle still remembers, vividly, as if it were yesterday, the Solstice morning when her partner presented to her the gift. And she could still feel the weight of the soft golden links... a symbol of that which bound them together. Then and now.
Opening her eyes, the fair woman looks towards the windows where her soulmate stands staring out. Shimmering misty greens linger on the tall, strong frame, before moving towards the twilight stars... And she reminisces fondly the wise woman who had welcomed her into her arms and heart, who had loved her as if she were her own. The innkeeper never judged nor condemned the bard even after she found out how much the storyteller had hurt her daughter... It was with kind, gentle strength that Cyrene held and consoled her, when her warrior dared not, while Gabrielle cried her own pain... She was the one person who had believed in their love even when they didn't...
And the blonde remembers how Xena's mother would make excuses for them to be alone every time they stopped by. *The way she acted as go between for us when we had one of our rare spats...* She did that even before they were lovers.
*I wonder...* Thinking back, the bard suspects her soulmate's mother was doing for them then what Sofia is doing for Michelle and Vesselina... trying to bring and keep them together, knowing instinctively that that's where they belong...
And the bard is caught completely off guard, when her mate launches herself onto the bed. Her larger body hovering above, and straddling Gabrielle's waist, Xena playfully holds her wrists above her head as if to pin her down. "Gotcha!"
"Okay." The beginning of a smile appears, and expanded to the brightening green orbs. "So, what are you going to do with me?" The blonde queries saucily.
A mischievous glint sparkled in the grey blue eyes, as the warrior generates short, quick breaths, sniffing loudly, as she moves her nose against her lover's neck... Drawing from her fair partner a string of clear laughter.
"What are you doing?" She asks, chuckling lightly.
Xena responds only by moving her face lower, blowing tiny puffs of air, and tickling the valley of her mate's breasts.
Grinning at the display despite herself, the bard breaks her partner's gentle hold and brings her slender hands to cup the chiselled chin. She tugs the dark head forward, and demands with smile in her voice, "C'mere, warrior puppy."
"Ahrooooooo!" The warrior lifts her chin upwards calls at the moon, then bends forward towards her lover, making excited panting noises near her face.
And small body writhes, trying to escape from the questing tongue.
"Grrrrrrrrrr..."
Gabrielle yelps when her partner nips her with her lips unexpectedly on the throat, then laughs harder still. "Stop it, that tickles!" She pants.
And stop the warrior does. Looking down at her mate with concerned gaze, the warrior issues from her throat a puppy-like whimper, in the form of a question.
"Yeah, I'm feeling much better now." The bard smiles, and reaches up to tuck away an unruly strand of hair hanging over her lover's features. "Thanks. Can't hide anything from you, can I?"
Xena shakes her head wildly, and makes excited little noises by her soulmate's ear. Suddenly, she stills, and buries her nose into blond tresses. Holding her partner tightly, she silently requests, *Please, don't try...*
*I...* The bard begins to answer. "Are YOU okay, Love?" She asks instead.
The warrior nods lightly in gentle understanding, and responds to her mate's question by resuming a series of playful growls and excited whimpers, inhaling and nuzzling, and bestowing on the small woman wet, affectionate kisses.
Unexpectedly, Gabrielle receives the mental image of her warrior wagging a tail in delight and abandon; and she laughs brightly at the picture. Gently, the fair bard halts her soulmate's passionate onslaught, and brings her head up. Capturing the blue orbs with infinite tenderness, she asks, her voice soft, "What am I going to with you?"
"Love me?" The warrior smiles briefly before her expression turns serious, displaying unadulterated adoration. The lovers remain still for a moment, holding each other's gaze. *I'm so sorry I wasn't... couldn't be... there...* She silently communicates.
*Hush...* The bard closes her eyes and draws her beloved near.
*But... I shouldn't have... shouldn't have left you...*
*Let the past be the past... please* She pleads.
"But..."
"Please...?" Gabrielle whispers, her eyes beseeching, revealing need and silent desperation.
Almost painfully slowly, and tentatively, the dark warrior bends towards her soulmate and presses her lips softly against her mate's... as if it were their first kiss... touching... gently grazing... sucking, making soft smacking sounds, which make the bard smile...
She parts her lips, inviting her lover in, and meeting her tongue in tender caresses... smoothing sensuously over moist softness.
And shivers slightly as she senses her mate's emotion, sharing the meaning and expression behind their kiss... Like their very first... a blossom of love... The seal... of two lives, two pure souls... One undying devotion... A promise of bliss.
Feeling the pressure of mouth against body... Cherishing, worshipping every inch of skin with hands, lips and tongue... slowly, without rush... Channelling her emotions into her soulmate's body through each kiss, each caress... each wordless articulation of desire... of love and affection... each whispered exchange...
Each filled with significance and purpose.
And intoxicating, infinite, Happiness.
===========
===========
Let us dream, this is the hour,
A vast and tender
peace and contentment
appears to fall
from the heavens
iridescent with stars.
It is the exquisite hour. [22]
-----------
"Umm... " The bard sighs happily against her partner's shoulder as their bodies shift; she presses further into the silken sheets, holding her lover close, loving the feel of her warrior's weight atop her own. Then... rather unexpectedly, something... something soft caresses and glides along her skin, and her deep green eyes blink open in curiosity.
"You like?" Xena smiles, touching a bit of pale white cotton to her soulmate's lips.
Suddenly, Gabrielle realises they aren't in their old room anymore. About her, their almost formless pallet is covered liberally with flowers, their surrounding richly impregnated with the sweet scent of lilacs and wisterias... the blossoms of Spring...
"Um-hmm... How did you do that?"
"I have..."
*Forget I asked.* The blonde smiles up to her soulmate, and captures her lips in a tender, lingering kiss.
*Gotta keep some of my trade secrets.* The warrior offers, returning the soft, moist touch.
*And what trade is that?*
*Lover...* Xena begins, *Soulmate...* as she traces, with her lips, a path, *best friend... consort...* across her beloved's delicate features, *of Gabrielle...* She points out, *My bard...* with certainty.
"Good answer." The fair blonde presses her fingers to her own lips, and places the pads of slender digits gently against her partner's mouth as they move apart.
Easing onto her back, the dark warrior looks up, her clear blue eyes search the sky, until they rest upon the star at the end of the handle of the Little Dipper... *Alright, it's a baby bear.* Xena smiles, yielding to her soulmate's quiet insistence, as they share one thought.
She exhales softly, feeling a gentle wave of contentment coursing through, as her mate echos her pleasure... as she clasps the smaller body close, and feels it twines itself about her own. With deep tenderness, the eternal lovers remember the infrequent occasions in Life, when they took time off for them... Those beautiful nights they spent underneath the radiant stars...
The bard and the warrior both enjoyed being out in the open, being close to the awesome majesty of nature. Even though it was rarely safe enough for them to express their intimate desires... Still, with only trees and clouds as their shelter, the lovers found peace, joy and equilibrium in simply laying close together... Contemplating the vast, infinite space of the sky... the mystery of nature, the universe... and the truth of their love.
"The real person I want to spend eternity with," Gabrielle had told her. And Xena would never forget how her bard looked that night... the way the brightest diamond in the heavens flickered to the glittering green orbs... as they held her own hopeful blue ones...
"It's true, you know," she tells her again, her loving features illuminated by moonlight... its silver beams kissing the sea of her eyes... Inviting, drawing her in...
And the warrior feels a sudden powerful desire to surround her soulmate... to kiss her lips until they are somewhat bruised.
*Ummm...* The bard smiles, as they fall once more into each other, sharing a connection. *I think they already are.* She comments impishly, as she embraces her partner with increasing ardour.
*Huh?* She asks, slightly surprised, hazily aware.
*We've kissed each other through a couple of millennia... I believe.*
*And?*
"I want more," her beloved whispers as she snuggles closer, the deep passion in her voice sends a shivering sensation through the warrior's body.
"Yeah?" She breathes, tracing the curve of her partner's ear with the tip her nose, and tickles the soft lobe with a flicking tongue, before drawing it in, and sucking softly... feeling her own body responds in sympathy to the tingling sensation...
And the lovers turn again to each other, kissing deeply... their tongues dancing slowly... Endearing tenderly...
*So, is this how clouds feel like?* The bard asks as she captures her soulmate's lower lip softly between her teeth, as their kissing turns into a playful battle with each other...
*How would I know?* Tongue insinuating into sweet pink void once more.
*What! Flying isn't one of your many skills?* She grins, gently sucking.
The warrior draws back, and smiles at her partner with lifted brows... Until she's no longer able to stay away. Slowly, they kiss each other again... into bewitching submission...
Holding her lover near, and her gaze captive, she reaches down and brings forth glistening moisture... Not letting go, she runs her fingers sensuously along the soft red lips, then licking delicately... Tasting and savouring the sacred elixir... Feeling the rise and fall of their breathing together.
The two women love each slowly, merging joyfully together... Hands searching out areas, tenderly exploring... Arousing... With infinite gentleness and respect... Touching and stroking...
To the warrior, their loving has always been a source of wonder... *Of endless discovery...* She reiterates, as she smooths over every part of her lover's body... With Gabrielle, she had learnt again the innocence of touch... where lovemaking is no longer just a reaction to sensual longings...
With her bard, Xena learnt again to be playful, as an expression of their love... and to let go of her warrior pride... to be herself... to love...
And she thought she had finally touched Elysium when she first laid her hands on her partner's lithe form... The feeling so familiar, yet mysterious... It was rich, warm, inviting... As was the wave of joy that swept through her being...
That fuelled her inner transformation...
Blue touching green with deep tenderness... in silent understanding... as she senses her lover's need... as she rests between her thighs... And holding on tight, the warrior sinks into their connection... Feeling the tremor of warmth as she submerges herself deeply in their union... The intoxicating vibrations and pulsations when her body joins with her lover's...
Together they move, slowly... moaning softly...
Thrusting gently, Xena plays out her decidedly masculine role... but without the dominance and assertiveness... Surrendering and letting her soulmate lead them in their erotic journey... This... this willingness to relinquish control, is something she had finally grown accustomed to... through her bard's unwavering patience, her unconditional acceptance... in Life. And now she shows only the strength of her love... Knowing only Gabrielle's happiness... her fulfilment...
"Love you," she mouths, as her partner embraces her with her legs and pulls her closer, drawing her deeper within.
"More." A slightly shaky request.
"You sure?" And sees only stormy, darkened green communicating stark need,
and desperate wanting... And she closes her eyes against the intensity.
"Please."
Looking again into verdant depths, she obliges, and concentrates... Remaining motionless as her bard presses tight against her.
As the lovers take time to absorb each other, the warrior remembers the first time Gabrielle made the temporary change... to her intense surprise... Responding to the bard's spontaneity and inventiveness, she willingly gave herself up then. To the limitless power of their love... Dissolving, into blissful oneness... experiencing the deep communion.
Embracing each other wholeheartedly, the pair welcome this somewhat different kind of intimacy... With no division, no boundary between them... Completely aware of how the other is feeling... Undemanding, healing... Intimately, lovingly...
Easing away old hurts and negative memories, vulnerability and fears...
That come crashing violently as she recalls her fair soulmate's reaction to the brief instants she inhabited their descendant's body... Her own confusion at the way her mate attacked her then, with ferocity and an urgent need closer to despair, as if her bard was trying to overwhelm her own senses... until she remembered that one afternoon shortly before their joining...
And she also knew then, for the first time, how her lover had felt in the flames... And she simply hung onto the small woman, letting her take from her whatever she needed...
*Oh gods.* She shuts out the uninvited thoughts, while her warrior tightens her hold in response.
Yielding to the blonde's silent request, Xena shifts behind her beloved... In a fluid motion, in their dance of love... And ease herself within her partner again... Following as her soulmate rolls onto her stomach, pulling her along.
Gabrielle clasps her soulmate's arms tightly about her own torso... Slender hands pressing firmly against large palms resting at slim, muscular shoulders. Their fingers entwined... Allowing herself only the feeling of her warrior's body, enveloping her own... its voluptuous weight, over the length of her person... The feeling of being sheltered, protected, deeply loved and possessed.
Then... Quite unexpectedly, formless softness underneath her skin shifts into a familiar one... Green eyes fly open, and she's met with her partner's adoring gaze. *Gods.* She inhales sharply, lowers her eyelids and delves further into their connection... Welcoming the warmth, the overwhelming distraction. She concentrates only on their true, tried bond... Dedicating body, heart and soul into the dance...
Thighs tightening, gently flexing; lips and hands softly caressing...
With regard and reverence... And deep, earnest devotion...
The warrior focuses on the feelings and sensations of her bard... Expressing herself physically and emotionally... Letting her tender feeling surface... revealing her own fears and vulnerabilities and sweetness... Dissolving any temporarily erected boundaries... Aware, sensitive, and loving... With only her partner, their love, as her whole existence... Intent on healing old wounds brought on by remembrances...
Savouring their intimacy... Falling into the moment... Connecting... Both women losing herself in this timeless journey... their joyous union...
Flowing along... as the waves of pleasure build up and permeate their body... Riding the crest...
Celebrating joy...
the moment of perfect and harmonious union...
and a sacrament of Love...
Later... Back in their room at the inn, with clarified and rejuvenated heart and soul,
the lovers drift into contented rest... In the peaceful, sacred space exclusively their
own...
==========
==========
Those who desires love,
make the best of it;
for love will never be
without sorrow.
The greater the love
the more one will be
subject to its mercy
or the danger which surrounds it.
That's just how things are. [23]
----------
In the darkened room, misty heather green eyes track the flickering candle light, and follow the shadows to trace faded carvings on the walls. A wistful smile steals across her fair features as her partner shifts and settles in her embrace. She strokes gently the long, dark mane, soothing, until the warrior rests peacefully once more. Then, she wraps her arms tighter about the broad shoulders, and inhales deeply...
*So much sorrow...*
*So much pain...*
And Gabrielle tries to not recall the past, nor to dwell on the anguish... Nevertheless, she remembers, and feels the weight of her decisions, the solitude, as the ancient prose echoes in her mind...
**********
Whither hast thou gone, O thou my beloved?
I sought you, but could not find you. I called you, but you gave me no answer.
Listen, my God, Ahura, unto me! Why hath Thou forsaken me? Why hath my Lord forgotten me?
Her locks dark as raven, her hands and legs like pillars of marble. Her eyes no longer
respond to mine eyes, her lips no longer breathe breath into my soul. My beloved, my
friend, my sister. No more.
Return, return, my spouse, my Love! Return, return that I may look upon thee.
To share with thee the seeds of thy pomegranate I wish. But how can a woman forget her
sucking child? To live I must. Live to protect her child! Our child!
Return, return, O my beloved, my spouse! Return, that I may again hold thee in mine arms.
Return.
**********
The bard recalls the first time she and Xena saw the enchanted painting, and the sharp, albeit fleeting, pang of unease she felt, a feeling which only she was privy to...
Their child, the young pasha, had received the art work as a gift from an admirer. Captured in vivid colours was a portrait of one of Friyana's ancestresses. To Gabrielle, there was a certain hint of melancholy in the strong, gentle features of the woman who smiled out at the audience from the foggy and mysterious background. Somehow, but for the dark dress, which was not customary of the middle ages, the subject looked exactly like her fierce partner. And she thought there was something familiar about the carvings and symbols on the silver frame which bordered the portraiture as well. But none of it amounted to any real cause of alarm for either warrior or bard...
Especially when they were celebrating the birth of their children's child...
The eternal couple was happy for the young pair, who certainly deserved the blessing. They saw themselves and their past in the doting parents... *Especially in Friyana...* Who was just as protective of her mate and their child as her warrior ever was. Both Xena and Gabrielle rejoiced, even though it the happiness was bittersweet, as it meant letting their son go again...
*Our son.* Brilliant emerald eyes glisten, as the bard thinks of the blonde boy who looks like more like her than his mother. *My son.* So many years, so much time had passed, and her heart still leaps with joy at the thought... at the remembrances of the moment she and her soulmates alighted from Charon's boat onto the Fields... And how the waiting young man enfolded her in his arms and called her 'mom'...
Involuntarily, she thinks again to the small icon which foretells the future. *I wonder how...* She stops, remembering what her partner just did. *Right, many skills.* Fair head shakes ruefully, as she reaches outwards. *Definitely miss you already...* The bard tells him, her lips curling upwards when she heard a soft, gentle voice responding from afar, reassuring her. *I know,* she answers, smiling brightly as she envisions their children's happiness.
Exhaling softly, Gabrielle reaches up and caresses her soulmate's dark tresses, tracing lightly her features soft in repose. The bard extends her sight, and back to the old country, where their daughter had chosen to begin this Life...
*Kara...* Closing her eyes, she sees the vision of a young girl playing with her two older siblings. They miss their child as well, and would love to have her back then, as they do now...
*But she has a new life now...* Gabrielle tells herself. *At least there won't be war this time...* Then she smiles, her heart bursting with pride, as she looks forward to the future their daughter had chosen for herself in this life... And is momentarily lost in recollection, as the blonde remembers the days before the Naming Ceremony, and how they had finally decided upon a name for their baby. *Kara... 'Pure'...* One same in meaning as the one her parents in this life have given her. *Her name for now...* Until she grows older, and takes upon another for herself. *Guess it'll be sort of a tribute to Terreis as well...* The bard decides, then grins in amusement when she recalls her warrior's exasperated reaction when she found out their child has once again chosen to dedicate herself to the 'One God'... this time to helping the sick and the poor in a faraway land. *She's more you than you're willing to admit, Love.* She looks at the dark features with loving acceptance and infinite tenderness.
The smile slowly fades, and is replaced by a slight furrow between fair brows, accompanied by a deep sigh, as the small woman remembers the ordeal in Orleans some five hundred years ago...
They had wanted their daughter back then too, but not like that... The eternal couple had tried very hard to alter the events and actions, but the maiden's fate had already been decided. And it was only in their power to guide her and make certain she was prepared for her destiny.
And the pair had just led the young woman to her sword and standard in Chinon, and helped her locate the future heir to the throne. They were busy preparing for war with her country's enemies, when the connection between her warrior and Ava took them back to their old home...
*Ava...* The bard squeezes tight her eyes, and hugs her partner close in reflex, as painful memories tumble forward.
When Xena and Gabrielle reached their young child, it was already too late. They didn't know what happened, or how it happened either... All they learnt was that that same afternoon the young lovers were standing before the painting, admiring the skill and artistry with which it was made... They were talking about their new family, and their future hopes... When Friyana just fainted, without warning...
And for days, the warrior and her bard stayed with the young mother. She was inconsolable, and they were afraid of what she might do... As her mate, their dark child, never woke up again...
In the end, her love for her soulmate and for their baby had kept Ava's desire to carry on. Still under the protection of her late 'husband''s name, and with the caring and kind understanding of her mother-in-law, things for the young woman gradually stabilised...
And for a while, the eternal couple were able to put aside their worries for their young child and focused on the events unfolding half a continent away...
Running her fingers softly along tired, sleeping features, lovingly, then twining her fingers with her warrior's, the blonde remembers what Xena just did for her... how her soulmate had somehow divided her essence, despite the drain on her energies, just so her bard could feel surrounded and protected. *All the impossible, remarkable things you've done... For me.* She blinks back the moisture behind her eyes, tenses her hold, and thanks her partner wordlessly.
*I'm so sorry...* The bard expels a deep breath, as she delves further into remembrances. *Too bad...* That particular skill wasn't available to the warrior, that she wasn't able to sustain being in two places at once, and she wasn't able to warn Ava of the imminent danger, as she helped fought the war...
**********
They that seek to hurt me are mighty, they that seek after my life are strong. They
speak ill things and imagine deceits, the devil's spawn they call me. The light of mine
eyes is gone from me.
They that seek to destroy me will find me, and smite me, and wound me I fear. Tear my veil
I fear they will from me. My strength faileth me.
One soul, one love, one life, one death torn asunder. Farewell, my spouse, my beloved.
My child, my all, farewell.
Ever thine, ever ours, ever mine.
**********
That was the only time Gabrielle ever cursed the gods for giving Xena the gift of being able to communicate with their child... *Perhaps things would turn out differently for her... for them... then.* And for the longest time, Gabrielle had blamed herself for what happened to their child, that she should have paid more heed to her suspicion towards the painting, no matter how slight, how unfounded that was... She still does, even though she knew there was nothing she could have done. *I'm so, so sorry...* The small woman swallows, biting her lower lip.
And she lays, gazing out the window, in the protective shelter of their love... Trying to calm her emotions, hoping the turbulence won't wake her soulmate... As her thoughts then turn to the decision she had to make that fateful day... so many years ago...
That same day when the bard found out if she tried hard enough, she could block her warrior from her thoughts, her emotions. *Little did we know... that I'd be the one...* Gabrielle shakes her head ruefully, and forces a smile as she recalls her discovery... and Xena's displeasured surprise. *And I'm the one who always insists on the sensitive chats...* But she simply couldn't bear for her partner to experience the moments...
Moments that reminded her of another time...
*So many misgivings...*
So many people have asked her why she had stayed with her warrior, and stood by her through and after everything that had happened, *Especially the Amazons...* And sometimes she wondered too, *But how do I explain something I don't understand?*
So much torment, so much terror... *But you are my destiny.* Her heart tells her every time. *Somehow I've always known that.*
And Gabrielle has never forgotten the look on her partner's face when she made her decision... They had just renewed their love, had only begun to be happy again...
It was the most difficult, yet the easiest decision for the bard to make. She couldn't bear to live a life without her warrior. Nor could she bear the idea of her partner's life cut short. The instant when she felt the heartbeat between her fingers, she knew what she had to do... It wasn't even a choice.
Just as she knew what she had to do when she saw Ava that day... Even though she still at times wonders if she should have done what she did...
The bard couldn't forget the brief instants she was in her child body... could always remember how she just held onto the young woman's soul and hurled themselves into the next plane, knowing that she had just deprived her of life... *And I actually believed they could be together...*
*Little did I know then...* Slim hand clenches at the knowledge of the fate which awaited their descendants... One they hope theirs and their living children's love has the power to change...
*But I just couldn't!* Her mind screams in silent anguish. Gabrielle couldn't bear for her young child to experience what she herself did... While her own terror at least had the convenience of being spectral... *Ava didn't have that...* And the young woman wouldn't be able to rationalise the violation away like she did... The bard didn't think her child could survive the ordeal. *Though I doubt they'd let her.*
And she had tried to block out the sensations, the remembrances. Despite her efforts, sometimes bits and pieces would come unbidden and unbridled. *But I can't...* Gabrielle had long ago decided she couldn't let her partner know the extent of her feelings. *You'll find a way to blame yourself for this, too.*
*You know I love you,* she tells her stirring lover. *And I'll do it all over again.* She adds, while rubbing her back comfortingly, gently easing her from awareness... *Without regret.*
Back in the study, the two friends sat in companionable silence. Sylvie and Genie had just bid them goodnight, and Sofia turned in as well. Feeling still the joyous elation from the evening in the air, neither Michelle nor Vesselina wants to talk more about the paintings, or the journal...
In her mind, however, the younger woman thinks again of the small bi-panelled icon, and the insigne-like scroll carving which looked familiar. And she wonders again how the painting may have caused the tragedy... *And how did Ava get pregnant...* She hugs the large pillow to herself tighter, trying to squeeze out the sudden chill brought on by fatigue and something else, never noticing the flicker of concern in the green-blue orbs that watch over her.
"Michelle?"
*Huh?* She blinks up to the older woman. "Euh... Oui?"
"Is everything all right?"
"Ouias." The blonde replies, trying unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn. "Just tired, I guess."
"Come on." Standing up, Vesselina smiles and holds her hands out towards her young friend. "Let us get you to bed. I think Marie had the guest room prepared before she went to visit her parents," she offers.
And taking her friend's arm in her own, Michelle follows the raven-haired woman on an unfamiliar path towards their destination.
"Bonne nuit," she turns around to greet her companion standing at the door.
"Prjiatni sunishta." The tall woman winks, and whispers, "Pleasant dreams... ma petite."
Impulsively, slender hand reaches for a larger one. With their fingers twining together, Michelle presses up lightly against her friend. Slowly, she moves forward... until different shades of blue and green become indistinguishable, reflecting their connection... letting eyelids fall as lips touch lips softly, sharing a breath of life... a soul...
Later that night, the eternal lovers return hand in hand. The warrior smiles down to her soulmate's sparkling orbs, seeing the same joyous contentment which shines back at her own.
"They do look cute together, don't they?" The bard whispers, beaming brightly at the chaste vision of fair head resting on silk-clad shoulder, of long digits entangling themselves in linen sleeve.
Her beloved nods lightly in response. "It is," she says, her voice filled with emotion.
"What is?"
"Flying."
"Oh?"
"Yeah." She turns towards her lover, and weaves her fingers
through the honey-golden silk. *Beyond Polaris, beyond the furthest star...* And she makes
it clear to her bard from whom she got that skill.
To Be Continued...