DISCLAIMER: Xena, Gabrielle, Argo,
etc. are ©copyright MCA/Universal and Renaissance Pictures. I don’t own them, I
just play with them for a while and, like the good girl I am, I put them back
when I’m done…okay, they get a little worn, but hey…I play hard! Absolutely no
Copyright infringement was intended in the writing of this fiction. It’s
intended as flattery toward the creators, writers, and actors of the
characters. All other characters that appear are ©copyright Devlin@xenafan.com.
This story cannot be sold or used for profit in any way. Copies may be made for
private use only and I’d appreciate if you included all copyright notices and
this disclaimer.
VIOLENCE WARNING: There is violence (come on
it’s the Conqueror). The nature of the story is not nearly as dark as some
Conqueror fiction, but it’s essence is still the slave / master relationship
that exists between Xena & Gabrielle.
TIMELINE: My own making. Xena is the
Lord, Conqueror of Greece, but she is almost forty-five years old when she
meets the slave, Gabrielle. Many of Xena’s evil ways have been sedated, but not
all. I call this Xena the “thinking woman’s” Conqueror. She is a woman who
wants to try to do the right thing, but doesn’t always know how.
SEX: Yes, I’ll have some, thank
you. Ooops! I mean, yes there is. It is
our favorite two Soulmates, after all. It’s not gratuitous, but it is quite
explicit when it gets going. This story shows consensual as well as
non-consenting love (master/slave), sex and yes, even some light bdsm between two
adult females.
HIGH ANGST WARNING: I was threatened within an
inch of my life if I didn’t start putting this disclaimer on some (all?) of my
work. I will henceforth rate the angst content with sad faces, one being the
lowest and four being the highest. This story earns: L L (2
sad faces for those without TT Fonts)
UNDERAGE WARNING: Hey, the Supreme Court said
in Reno v. American Civil Liberties Union
(1997) that laws against making available, online, certain “indecent”
materials for those under 18 was unconstitutional…look it up! Besides, this is
perfectly “decent.” J
I
only know how others feel about my stories from feedback. Let me know what you
think...homophobes need not apply, however. I’m at: Devlin@xenafan.com
**Special thanks to Jim Kuntz for his permission in using any Lion of Amphipolis references.
The Conqueror
Series
Tale One:
Journey’s End
By LJ Maas
“What did you spend your afternoon doing, little one?” I asked Gabrielle as we took our evening meal together.
It
was a fortnight ago that my young slave turned a corner in her life. It was
evident in the way Gabrielle talked, walked, and even held herself. I’m sure
she didn’t even notice the changes that were taking place, but my eyes took it
all in. She smiled a lot more and sometimes, I think, she even forgot it was me
she was chatting to. She told me of her day and I sat there, an elbow leaning
on the table, my chin resting within the palm of my hand. Somehow fascinated,
by every damn word the girl uttered.
Gabrielle’s
newfound confidence put many of my own fears at ease. I no longer worried quite
as much when she was away from me, knowing that she now possessed enough
attitude, to keep her slightly out of harm’s way. Her days, it seems, were
spent filling the scrolls I purchased for her, I know she spent time everyday
with Delia, and once I even saw her laughing with my maid, Sylla, on their way
to the market.
As
ruler, my own time was not my own very often, but when I did take time away
from the business of running the lands in my care, I spent that time with this
young woman. Occasionally, I gave permission for Gabrielle to come down to the
practice fields, to watch as I worked out. For some reason, unknown to me, she
enjoyed sitting atop one of the low, stone walls that surrounded the sparring
area, watching as I exchanged blows with a variety of weapons, against my soldiers.
I rarely allowed the young woman to be there, yet she never pleaded to come.
She simply smiled and nodded enthusiastically when I asked her if she would
like to join me. I admit there were two reasons for my hesitation in bringing
my slave down there. The obvious was my concern with a pretty girl being in
sight of my men, especially my pretty girl. I’ve lived with or around
soldiers nearly all my life and on the whole, they’re a pretty loutish bunch. I
didn’t see the need to put Gabrielle through any undue humiliation, nor did I
desire to put myself in the position where I would be compelled to kill a man
for a leer or a whistle. I knew how jealous I could become and how unreasonable
my temper could be. Why play with fire?
The
second reason was more of a personal problem on my part. It was, very simply
speaking, disconcerting to see Gabrielle, watching with rapt fascination, as I
practiced and demonstrated my fighting skills against young men barely half my
age. In the heart of this very large woman, this Conqueror, there resided a
mass of insecurities, especially when it came to Gabrielle. The truth is, I was
never quite certain as to whether the young woman wished to watch me, or the
young men I pummeled.
“Wait…back
up. Who is Anya?” I asked.
I
had the unnerving ability, to some, to let my mind wander, but still hear
everything going on around me. Gabrielle moved to the bed in the middle of our
conversation, and when I looked up again she had her legs drawn up into a
casual position against her chest, her back leaning against the carved wooden
headboard. She was telling me of a woman she was becoming friends with, yet I
knew no one in the castle by that name.
“She
is Petra’s mother, My Lord. Remember the boy you--”
“Oh,
yes, yes. She’s well then?” I asked, remembering how frail and ill she looked
when Kuros led me to the rooms within the palace, that he appointed for the
woman and her children.
“Very
well, My Lord. She’s teaching me how to sew and create the most amazing things
with cloth. Do you know she was apprenticed to a famous seamstress in Athens
before she married?”
“Indeed?”
I answered seriously, indulging my slave. “And, who was this famous
seamstress?”
“Messalina.”
Gabrielle said with some excitement.
I
sat up in my chair a little straighter. “She studied this craft under
Messalina?” I asked.
“Yes,
My Lord. Do you know of this famous woman?”
“Yes.”
I answered distractedly, remembering a time when the woman known only as
Messalina, designed all the silk robes I wore.
I
looked up and Gabrielle was watching me patiently, perhaps waiting for me to
explain. Since I already answered in the affirmative, how could I not explain
myself?
“When
I was a much younger woman, before you were even born, I first became known as
the Xena the Conqueror. I conquered all of Greece, the
Roman Empire, the Far East, Gaul, and set up my Palace here, in Corinth. Messalina
was perhaps the age you are now, but even then,” I shook my head and smiled,
“she was truly gifted.”
I
paused and took a sip of water, remembering the young woman and the heavy
brocades she created for me to wear in public, reminiscent of the flowing robes
I became accustomed to wearing from my time in Chin. Back then; that land
influenced everything in my life, too bad I didn’t study their principles more.
I had only to describe my preferences to her once, and soon after the girl
literally created the style of clothing, I would wear for the next twenty
seasons.
“She
designed all the clothing I wore then. There wasn’t much kindness in me then,
but I remember being kind to her. I think I admired her talent. She was like
Delia, though not quite as forward about it. She never thought twice about
telling me when my clothing designs were outlandishly tasteless or downright
ugly. The way she looked at me sometimes…it’s the same way you look at me.” I
let a small bittersweet smile cross my lips at the memory.
“Did
you love her?” Gabrielle’s soft, questioning voice cut through my reminiscing.
I looked up at her and I saw something in her eye that wasn’t there yesterday. It looked a bit like jealousy, but when I blinked, it was replaced with that same expression of compassion Gabrielle always held, when she gazed at me. Gabrielle was young; too young to know more about me than what legend told, but it was time she knew what I was. I rose from my chair and crossed the room to sit beside the young woman, seated on the large bed.
Taking
one of her small hands in my own much larger one, I began to speak. “There was
no love in me or for me, back then, Gabrielle. I killed and I
raped, and I took, all for one reason, and that’s because I could, because I
was strong and others were weak. My life was about power and control, because I
thought that whoever had that, had everything.”
I
lowered my head as I continued speaking and my dark hair surrounded me like the
hood of a cloak, making it easier to share the awful truth of my existence, to
the young woman before me.
“The
things that I’ve done, Gabrielle…what I have been…it sickens me and I know now
that there really is no amount of good that I can do, that can possibly atone
for my acts. It’s true what they say about me, you know. Perhaps you shouldn’t
be nice to me, Gabrielle…I am evil.”
I wasn’t looking for pity or even compassion, although I believe I received both from my young slave. I simply told her, in the fewest words possible, who I was. I wondered at my actions. In those long heartbeats between the time my voice ended and Gabrielle’s next movement, a quick bit of introspection caused me to ask myself…why, just when I’ve drawn her closer, am I trying to push her away? Why am I trying to frighten her out of caring for me?
I
could only hope that someday I would find the answers to those questions. I
felt the smoothness of Gabrielle’s fingertips under my chin, and as I’ve done
with her a hundred times, I felt my face tilted up until I was looking into an
expression that could surely melt, even the hardest of hearts.
“I
have read many things, My Lord, about this woman, Xena the Conqueror. The
scrolls are filled with her history, her stories of war, as well as her
proclivities. I know I’m young, but I understand more than you think. I know of
Xena the Conqueror, but I do not know her. That Xena is not the woman
before me, and she is certainly not the Xena to whom I belong.”
I’m
not sure why I did it; only that it seemed natural to do. I lay my head down in
her lap, stretching the length of my body out on the mattress, one arm wrapped
tightly around her waist. Gabrielle rubbed my back, in small soothing circles,
while caressing my temple with the fingertips of her free hand. It was that
insecurity-ridden woman that spoke next.
“Do
you belong to me, Gabrielle?”
My
eyes were closed tight against the respectful silence I was sure I would hear.
Why couldn’t I leave well enough alone, why did I have to push the issue? I
felt silky tresses surround me as Gabrielle placed a feather light kiss upon my
ear. I tried to hold back, without success, the hot tears that leaked from the
corners of my closed eyes.
“Yes, My Lord…only you.” Gabrielle’s warm breath responded in my ear.
I
wrapped both arms around her waist and squeezed. My heart couldn’t decide
whether it should be grateful or terrified. It decided to choose both. It felt
so right to be lying here with Gabrielle this way, not worrying about whether I
should be in control of my emotions, not caring how it might look to anyone
else. It also felt very natural allowing someone…no, not just someone. It felt
very natural allowing Gabrielle, to care for me. As ruler and warrior, I
was never allowed to look weak or foolish, but in Gabrielle’s presence, I’m
positive I looked both, but sure, to her anyway, that I appeared neither.
*********************
I
felt a heavy comforter being pulled over me, and the soft warm presence of
another, wrapping their arms tightly around my shoulders. I moaned and pushed
into the embrace further. A loud rapping on the outer door to my chambers
interrupted my pleasant state. I growled, knowing I would have to leave this
comfortable sanctuary.
“Shall
I, My Lord?” Gabrielle asked.
“Mmmm,”
I murmured. “Get rid of whoever it is, please, Gabrielle, I don’t want to see
anyone till morning.”
I
rolled on to my back, immediately missing the soft body that silently rose from
the bed. If I had been more awake, I might not have thought it merely a
pleasant dream, when smooth lips were pressed delicately against my forehead,
before moving away.
A
male voice in my outer room instantly brought me awake. Gods, I slept so
soundly when I was beside Gabrielle, it frightened me. I suddenly remembered
that only moments ago I asked Gabrielle to answer the door. I rolled to the end
of the bed, standing and grumbling under my breath once I discovered the male
voice belonged to the scum, Demetri. The exchange between Gabrielle and my
headman was muffled, but suddenly their voices became clear as they moved
directly in front of the door to my bedchamber. I sat back down on the
mattress, listening to the more than surprising exchange.
“Move
aside slave, or I’ll move you myself.” Demetri growled.
I silently swore to myself that if the man laid a single hand on her, a slow crucifixion would be too good an end for him.
“I
cannot, Lord Demetri.” Gabrielle’s voice suddenly came closer and I realized
she must have stepped in front of the door, to block the man’s way.
“You
little bitch. You know if I have to move you out of the way, you won’t be happy
about it.” Demetri hissed.
I
practically applauded Gabrielle’s next words, even though every muscle in my
body was poised to intervene should things get out of hand.
“Lord
Demetri, the Lord Conqueror has given me orders that she not be disturbed. If
her wishes are not obeyed, then I will be punished for certain, but I expect
worse will befall the person who actually does the disturbing.”
I
almost laughed aloud. I could just imagine what Gabrielle looked like,
delivering those words filled with caution and innuendo. Her brazenness
surprised me more every day, and my mind’s eye conjured up a vision of the
tiniest smirk on her lips, along with the ever so slight arch to her eyebrow.
Gods, this woman was no idiot!
I
walked to the door and heard only silence as Demetri was obviously
contemplating the words, Conqueror and disturbing, and weighing
his chances. I grinned to myself, and then fixed a fierce scowl onto my face. I
grabbed the door and pulled it open so swiftly that Gabrielle, who was leaning
with her back upon the heavy wood, flew into my arms.
The
small blonde was surprised and momentarily lost until she realized it was I
behind her. The look on my face caused Demetri to take a full two steps,
backward. I held Gabrielle’s back against me snugly with one arm wrapped around
her waist. Demetri looked rather relieved and opened his mouth to speak.
“Lord
Conqueror, I--”
“Good
night, Demetri!” I slammed the door in his face, leaving him still standing
there, stammering, for a few heartbeats. Eventually his footsteps walked away
and the outer door to my rooms slammed shut.
“Oh,
that was worth the price of admission!” I laughed, falling back against the
door and wrapping Gabrielle in my arms, kissing the top of her blonde head.
“Was
that…was it all right to do that?” Gabrielle asked, her cheek pressed against
my chest.
“That
was very all right, little one, I’m very pleased.” I replied and I could feel
the tension leave the young woman’s body.
I
moved to open the door and peered out into the room before deeming it safe to
enter. I crossed the room and grabbed up a flasco of wine, pouring a large cup.
I stopped and lifted the container in Gabrielle’s direction.
“Gabrielle,
have you ever tasted wine?”
“No,
My Lord.”
She
answered as I expected, for few masters would ever give good drink to a slave,
it would be considered a waste.
“Would
you like to…hmmm, try some?” I asked.
“I’m
not sure, My Lord. If it would please you.” She answered.
“The
point is; would it please you?” I responded, and we seemed to be at an impasse.
We both stood there, seemingly unable to release one another from the tender
gaze.
I
pulled away first and poured a small bit of the red liquid into a heavy metal
cup, then added a good deal of water. I figured that never having tasted the
brew before, along with her slight build, watering the drink down would be the
best way to initiate my young slave to the grape.
I
handed Gabrielle the cup and waited until she took a sip first. Her nose
crinkled up and she smiled slightly. “Sweet.” She commented. “It’s like
juice…in a way.”
I
lifted my own cup to my lips, but stopped short. I paused momentarily and raised
the cup a bit further in salute. “I drink a toast to you, Gabrielle. You have
pleased me greatly today.”
Her
blonde head lowered slightly. “Is it because of what I did with Lord, Demetri?
Is that why you’re pleased, My Lord?”
I
took a large swallow of my wine, then another before answering. Setting my cup
on the side bar, I leaned against, I pushed off and walked toward the open
window, the stars shimmering and suspended in the black sky. I wanted to say so
much, yet as always in my life, words deserted me when I needed them the most.
I made an attempt to say what was in my heart, but I was still so far from
being able to put a voice to all that I felt there.
“I
guess I just like knowing that you can take care of yourself.” I said with my
back still facing her, realizing how very weak that sounded.
“I
am a slave My Lord, I’m not sure everyone will accept aggression coming from
me.”
I
turned to look at her and I noted her furrowed brow. “Gabrielle, there is a
enormous difference between being aggressive and being assertive. I don’t see
you as becoming an aggressive woman, it just doesn’t seem to be in you.” I
looked across the room and paused, but Gabrielle looked just as confused as
before.
“Gabrielle,
if I taught you to use a weapon, if you were able to become skilled with it,
would you use it to kill?”
“I--I
don’t know if I could ever do that, My Lord.” Gabrielle answered,
disappointment evident in her voice.
“And,
I wouldn’t expect you to be able to. Like I said, it’s not in you. But you
might defend yourself with this weapon, mightn’t you?”
“Yes,
perhaps,” she responded hesitantly. “Yes, I think I could protect myself, or
someone I cared for.”
“Then
you have just learned the difference between aggression and assertion. If the
first were true about you, you would be able to attack someone. If it is the
latter…well, being assertive means defending one’s self, little one. That’s
what I want you to learn to do. It will help me not to worry so much when you
are away from me.” I answered, but as the words slipped off my tongue, I
realized what I’d said, and how easily I said it.
Did
I actually just admit that I worried about her? Me…Xena the Conqueror? I could
feel my ears growing hotter, and that’s never a good thing for a warrior. I
watched as the crease in my slave’s brow eased and suddenly I saw something
that could only be described as mirth; enter Gabrielle’s forest green eyes. I
folded my arms across my chest, shifting my weight to one foot, as I tried to
appear casual. When Gabrielle took a few steps forward, her facial muscles
quite obviously straining to hold back a smile, I turned slightly and began
examining the hanging tapestry on the wall. Mind you, that tapestry has hung
against this wall for nearly 12 seasons, but suddenly, it became the most
fascinating object in the room.
“My
Lord…you…worry? About me?” Gabrielle said, I must admit way too merrily for me.
Gods, I think it may have been a colossal mistake, giving this woman power!
“Well…”
I paused, still fingering the tapestry, knowing that if I made eye contact with
the small blonde I was done for.
I
knew that if I allowed myself to be caught in that gaze, filled with a
combination of compassion and seduction, I would fall on my knees and promise
her anything. I would end up flat on my back in some sort of submissive
posture, allowing my young slave to take me as if our stations in life were
reversed. I would do the one thing I swore to myself I would never do again…I
would beg. Gabrielle would use her talented body and my own weakness to take
control, and I would end up begging for her divine touch like a pup begs for
dinner scraps, whining and whimpering my need until my master would take pity
and satisfy me.
“Is
it true? Do you worry for me…” Gabrielle paused momentarily.
All
right, I won’t look at her. I will not give in; I continued to think to myself,
unconsciously pulling threads from the priceless piece of heavy fabric. I can
be strong. I can be articulate. I’m the Conqueror of practically the whole Gods
be damned world!
“…Xena?”
Gabrielle finished.
Then
I looked. Hades!
I
fell into the eyes, which displayed a temperament and an attitude that I helped
put there. My heart stopped as my libido soared, and I realized that I created
this. Somewhere along the line, I took a small, frightened lamb, and turned her
into a ravenous wolf.
“Do
you, Xena?” Gabrielle repeated the question, tilting her head slightly in the
most charming manner. She stopped in front of me, her body so close, we were
almost pressed against one another.
“Um…I…sometimes.”
Gods, how pathetic!
I
froze as I watched her capture my attention with no more than a commanding
look. Gabrielle smiled at me. Not the feral grin I expected from such a capable
huntress, but an innocent smile, laced with sweetness, the kind that can
capture an old warrior’s heart, and within a candlemark, have her begging for
mercy.
My
young slave raised herself up on her toes, sliding her body along my own. She
reached up, and almost shyly, placed the most gentle of all kisses on my cheek.
It was so light and delicate, it felt like the beat of a butterfly’s wings
against my flushed skin. I felt those ears that grew warm earlier, burning like
flames now. I could do no more than look down on her, a sheepish expression on
my face.
Gabrielle
slipped one small hand within my own and began to walk toward the bedchamber.
As she drew me through the door, I suddenly remembered a phrase I’d read. It said something to the effect of…
be
careful what you wish for…