A young woman, one of the horse riders was the first to step forward. She walked up to Xena and knelt, then carefully took the first medal off the blade. “My liege.”
Xena reached over and ruffled her hair. “Good job. Leave it to a girl to be the only one with guts.”
Startled, the woman blushed and almost stumbled backwards, narrowly avoiding bumping the next winner who was creeping forward.
They were all scared, but they were also excited, and Xena used the moment to give each of them an eye to eye look.
Some of them refused to look at her. She marked them.
Others dared to meet her gaze, but were suspicious and wary. She marked those, too.
Then there were the few that took their ribbon with a mixture of awe and pleasure, whose faces etched shy smiles as she looked at them.
Those few got a wink and a smile back from their charismatic queen, and unwittingly bound themselves to her in the blink of an eye. Damned few, Xena sighed. Gotta start getting to them earlier. I’ve been slacking off lately, and that’s what I get for it.
After all the medals were given, Xena let her sword rest on her shoulder as she regarded the room. “The winners of the melee, get out here.”
From the corners of the room her men stepped out, walking confidently across the room to gather before her. Not all of them, of course, but the officers who would take the kudos back to the barracks with them. Xena waited for them to line up, then she motioned Stanislaus forward.
The castle seneschal had his arms wrapped around an ornate wooden chest, and he carried it to her, it’s weight evident in his labored steps.
“Brendan.” Xena called out.
The grizzled captain walked over from his guard post, and circled the throne dais to arrive in front of Xena. He dropped to his knees without hesitation, and put his fist up over his heart. “Majesty.”
“Brendan, I promised a special favor if your troops won the day.”
“Aye, majesty… but the favor of carrying your banner to victory was the reward we looked for.” Brendan said. “We want no other.”
“Charming, but altruism was never one of my faults, and I didn’t train you that way either.” Xena remarked dryly. “As it happens, I was able to put a few bets on the contest through the kind offices of a few of our guests.” The queen pointed her sword at the chest, then indicated Brendan. “Give it to him. Share it with the men, Brendan. They earned it.”
Brendan’s face went slack with shock as he got hastily to his feet to claim the chest. “Mistress.” He clasped the wooden bin to him. “Your generosity knows no bounds.”
Xena reached out and tapped him on the head with her sword blade. “My generosity is sporadic and eclectic at best and everybody knows it. G’wan and get that out of here before you fall with it and spill coin from here to the outer gates.” She turned and regarded the room. “I’m sure everyone’ll agree their dinars went to good home, hm?”
Sour faces looked back at her from a good portion of the room. She felt a cold humor settle on her.
Xena grinned. “It’s a shame our general can’t be here to join us, that what you’re thinking?” She asked mockingly. “Those of you who were pushing him into trying to knock me off the big red chair back there?”
A low murmur went up. “Like you, Duke Edagar?” Xena pointed her sword at him. Edagar was a burly, bearded man whom she liked to call Brego’s bearded buttlicker.
Indignantly, Edagar stood up. “Majesty, I protest! I am a most loyal subject!”
Xena walked towards him, daring him to hold his ground. Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of Gabrielle perched behind her throne, watching her. “Loyal? I don’t think you can even spell loyal, Edagar.” She drawled.
“Majesty.”
Xena could feel the fear in the room rising. The sword on her shoulder was a potent threat, and they all knew it. “You think I don’t know about your little plan?” She moved closer. “Think I didn’t know about the lies you spread, the tales you told?”
Edagar’s knees were shaking. Xena could see them. Her eyes drilled into his. She would make him an example, and with any luck, only one set of body parts would have to be tossed in front of the gates. The dark fire rose inside her and the urge to kill, held at bay the day long, surfaced.
Edagar saw it in her eyes. He dropped to his knees and then flat on his face, covering his head with his hands.
Xena stood over him. “Not only are you a traitor, you’re a coward.” She turned her head towards Alaran, who was standing alertly at her shoulder. “Pick him up.”
Alaran and one of his men did so, lifting the duke up by the arms and holding him suspended between them.
“Duck.” Xena remarked casually. Both men bowed their heads and she struck, in a solid backhanded stroke that took his head off cleanly and sent it flying across the banquet table.
His wife screamed. Xena gazed dispassionately at her. She fell off her chair and continued to scream in utter terror, the sound piercing the room and making an eerie counterpoint to the fluttering of the torches.
Xena let her eyes slowly track across the room. “Everyone get my… point?” She had to grin at the macbre humor.
Other than the woman’s screams, it was dead silent.
“Good.” Xena wiped her sword off on Edagar’s linen surcoat. She turned and walked up the steps to her throne, idly twirling her sword in her hand. The woman’s voice broke off into hysterical sobbing, but Xena didn’t turn around. She sat down on her throne, and put her sword across her knees.
Only then, after a deep breath, did she look to her right to where Gabrielle was sitting.
The slave was gazing straight ahead, her lips pressed against her folded hands.
“Gonna listen to me next time?” Xena asked.
Gabrielle nodded slightly.
Xena fiddled with her sword hilt, aware of the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Usually killing made her feel good, but watching the tremor in Gabrielle’s hands it was hard for her to feel anything but a little depressed.
She watched the guards drag both Edagar’s body and Edagar’s wife out.
Her back hurt.
Xena motioned Jeallaus to start playing again, as whispers finally broke the silence. The sound of the harp was almost surreal, but it was soothing to her ears as she sat back in her throne and listened.
After a few minutes, Gabrielle straightened and braced her hands on her knees, drawing in a deep breath and releasing it. She turned to look at Xena.
Xena returned the look.
“How did you know he was the one behind it all?” Gabrielle asked, in a soft voice.
“I didn’t.” The queen told her. “I made an example of him so the rest of the bastards who joined in will think twice before they do it again.”
The slave nodded slightly. “Do you know who they are?”
“Yes.”
Another slight nod. “Then you could have done that to all of them, couldn’t you?”
“I would have had to sharpen this a couple times, but sure.” Xena smiled grimly. “I could have. But if you kill em all, you don’t have any tax base left.”
“Oh.” Gabrielle rubbed her eyes.
Xena could only imagine the image she was trying to erase from them. “You know what?”
“What?” The slave looked up at her.
“I’ve had enough fun for one night. Let’s go.” Xena stood up, motioning for Alaran to approach with her sheath. “I want to get this damn gown off, and wash the stink of this place off me.” She took the leather sheath and slid the sword home. “You take care of everything?”
“Yes, Majesty.” Alaran seemed a lot more relaxed. “The men… were very pleased with your gift.” He told her. “And my spies tell me… those that supported Bregos are very, very sorry.”
“Mm.. you can say that again.” Xena grunted. “I’m going to the tower. If anyone gets drunk in here, throw them in the dungeon for a sevenday and fine them a hundred dinars.”
“Mistress.” Alaran bowed. “It has been a very profitable day.”
Xena watched Gabrielle come to stand quietly at her shoulder, the shadows painfully evident in her eyes. “Yeah.” The queen shifted her sword to her left hand and let her right rest on Gabrielle’s shoulder. She half expected the girl to flinch, and found a small glimmer of warmth when she didn’t. “I made a mint. C’mon, kid. Let’s go get comfortable.”
Gabrielle straightened and produced a gentle smile.
“Are you well, majesty?” Alaran asked suddenly, leaning closer. “Truth, I’d forgotten you were injured.”
“That thing? Just a scratch.” Xena slung her arm over Gabrielle’s shoulders and started down the steps. “Now at least we can put the whole damn thing behind us, and move on.”
“You’re right, Majesty.” Alaran watched them go. “That we can.”
Gabrielle waited until they were out of the hall, and walking towards the grand staircase before she spoke. “You know something?”
Xena sighed. “I’m a cold, heartless whore bitch assassin with no morals and less conscience?”
“Um..” Gabrielle cleared her throat a little. “No.. that guy Alaran gives me the creeps.”
“He’s a spy. He is a creep.”
“Oh.”
Xena walked along the hall, glad of the cool breeze after the heated warmth of the banquet chamber. “You don’t think I’m a cold heartless whore bitch assassin with no morals and less conscience?”
“No.” Gabrielle put an arm around her. “Just a really strong person who does what they think they have to.”
Xena looked at her. “I think you just proposed to me.” She remarked, feeling a little of the gloom lifting. “Impulsive thing, aren’t you?”
Gabrielle exhaled, her shoulders relaxing. “I’m really glad it’s all over.”
“Nice change of subject.” Even in the dark, Xena could sense the blush. She pushed the long day out of her mind, and focused on the future. Bregos was taken care of. The rebellion was squashed. She had a pretty girl in her arms, and with any luck, she could take time now to heal in peace.
And get to know Gabrielle a little better, now that it seemed the girl wasn’t screaming and running for her life after the night’s entertainment.
Yet.
**
Part 9
Gabrielle slipped into her new cubbyhole, one ear cocked to hear Xena’s orders to the staff outside. She paused in the center of the room and looked around, surprised but pleased at the space around her. The ceiling was high, and the room, closet really she reckoned, was almost square and the walls had lots of little shelves and alcoves in them to put things in. Where her previous space had obviously just been a forgotten curve in the wall, this had light, and even a worn but respectable rug covering a good part of the stone floor.
Her cot was against the wall along with the small chest, and she went over to it and started stripping off her livery.
Her mind kept returning to dinner, though, and she found herself reliving the horrible moment that had ended it, not so much the vision of Xena killing the duke but the heart rending scream of the wife he’d left behind. It resonated with her, and reminded her strongly of the moment when she’d seen the arrow pierce Lila’s chest and she was having a hard time getting past the image again despite the fact that she knew Xena had done what she’d thought she needed to.
Just like with Lila. Gabrielle smoothed her fingertips over the yellow hawk, caught again by the paradox her life was rapidly becoming.
By all rights, Xena’s nature, and her cold hearted willingness to slaughter should be repelling her. And yet Gabrielle felt herself being drawn closer and closer to the dangerous and deadly queen despite all logic to the contrary. Even watching her dispatch the noble had only jolted her empathy for the man’s wife, rather than stirred up horror at the man’s death itself. Was she starting to get used to it? Gabrielle sat down and removed her boots. Was Xena right? Was she even getting a taste for the excitement of it all?
She stood up and removed her leggings, then slipped out of the buttery golden shirt, folding it neatly and laying it over the overtunic. The stone walls held a chill that raised goosebumps on her bare skin and she rubbed her arms absently as she tried to make sense of it.
And realized there was none to be had, at least at the moment. She hated the violence, and the deadly games of the court. But even though Xena was the core of it, Gabrielle knew it wasn’t in her heart to hate the queen.
Far from it. She closed her eyes in quiet confirmation. Could she hate everything Xena stood for, and love Xena herself? Her ears caught the sound of Xena moving into the bathing room, and she felt her heart skip a beat.
Well. That wasn’t fear stirring in her guts, virgin or no she knew that much.
She sighed as she tucked her boots under the cot and stood up, running her fingers through her hair as she went to her little chest and removed a shift to sleep in. She pulled it over her head and put her livery away neatly folded, then paused as she started to stand up when she spotted a small, neglected looking box tucked back in the corner of the space.
Curious, she walked over and crouched next to it, lifting the latch and opening the top to peer inside.
**
For once, she wanted hot water. Xena dipped a finger into the gently steaming liquid, giving the two slaves who had brought the buckets and approving nod. “Great. Now get out.” She told them, watching the guard herd them out the door and into the hallway. She waited for the door to close then she wandered back into the bathing room and rested her forearms on the edge of the marble tub.
“Hm.” Xena regarded the water for a minute. Then she walked over to the stone alcove set into the wall and picked up a small jar, removing the top and sniffing warily. “Eh.” She muttered. “It’s better than flowers.” She walked over and sprinkled a bit of the bath salts into the water, releasing a light scent of sandalwood and nutty cinnamon into the air. Putting the jar back, she went to her closet and untied the ornate belt on her gown, noting the blood spatter that dotted the fabric in a swath from her shoulder to her hip.
With a grimace, she removed the gown and draped it over a wooden stand in the closet. Studying her choices, she selected a brief, silk robe and eased it over her shoulders, tying the thin woven cord loosely around her waist. She studied her reflection in the mirror, then ran a hand through her hair to fluff it’s bangs a trifle.
One eyebrow lifted in dire sarcasm. “Ohhh… you’ve got it bad.” She accused her reflection. “Last time you primped it was for your horse.”
With a half disgusted shake of her head, she turned her back on the mirror. Barefoot, she stepped silently into the bedroom and leaned on a cornice outside the door to the space she’d had Gabrielle’s things put in.
It was a small cubby, a closet really she’d never used that the castle’s prior occupants had stored their volumes of rich clothing and personal trinkets in. It was larger than the alcove outside in the hall, though, and it had a wall sconce for a hanging oil lamp that lit the interior with a pleasing warm glow.
It was quiet inside. Xena unfolded her arms and walked to the door, peering inside. Gabrielle was sitting on her cot, leaning back against the wall with her legs folded up under her. She had piece of parchment in her hands and she was reading it, seemingly completely absorbed but it’s contents.
Xena smiled at the sight. Then she put her fingers between her teeth and let out a piercing whistle, causing Gabrielle to nearly levitate off the cot and onto the floor.
“Yow!” The slave yelped, grabbing her chest. “Oh!”
“Heh heh.” Xena entered and looked around, putting her hands on her scantily clad hips. “Well, it beats the broom closet out there.”
Gabrielle caught her breath, then lost it again as she caught a look at the darkened blue eyes watching her. “Uh… yes… it’s… I like it.”
“Do ya?” Xena strolled over and took a seat next to her on the cot, making the mattress rustle and the straps under it creak. “What’s that?” She pointed at the parchment.
“Oh.” Gabrielle looked down at the writing. “I found it in that box over there. It’s a poem.” She offered it to Xena. “It’s beautiful. Did you write it?”
“Me?” The queen burst into a wry laugh. “Gabrielle, I’d sooner skin rats with my teeth than write poetry.” She mouthed the last word as thought it were a curse. “Poetry? Me?”
The slave put the parchment down on her lap and scratched her jaw. “I’m sorry.” She apologized in a soft voice. “It had an ‘X’ on the bottom so I thought…”
Xena snatched the parchment and examined it. “X must be for unknown.” She said finally, tossing the parchment back. “I’ve never seen it before.”
Gabrielle fingered the hide. “Is it okay if I keep it?”
The queen folded her arms over her chest, and eyed her. “It’s not mine. Why should I care if you do?” She could see the smile starting on Gabrielle’s face and decided to change the subject. “I have a hot bath waiting.”
The slave folded the parchment carefully and put it into her trunk. “Would you like me to wash your shoulder?” She asked.
“I’d like you to get in the tub with me and wash me all over.” Xena answered, with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. She watched the green eyes facing her widen to an almost comical degree and saw the muscles on either side of Gabrielle’s face relax as her jaw dropped. With a smirk, she reached over and tipped the slave’s head to one side. “Think those are your brains dripping out. Careful.”
Gabrielle closed her jaw with a slight clicking sound as her teeth met. She remained silent, however, her eyes wide open and borderline fearful.
Not what Xena wanted. “Hey.” She patted Gabrielle’s cheek. “It’s been a long day, and I’m really too tired to sadistically rape you. Relax.” She watched the girls’ expressive face. “Gabrielle?”
Gabrielle exhaled. “Um.. I’m.. sorry. That just.. sort of surprised me.”
Xena pursed her lips. “Come.” She got up off the cot and held her hand out. “I don’t ask for hot water often, and it’d be a crime to waste it.”
Shyly, Gabrielle stood and took her outstretched fingers, clasping them as she followed Xena out and through the bedroom into the bathing chamber.
Steam was rising faintly over the tub, and it smelled wonderful. Gabrielle felt scared, and excited and her heart started doing somersaults in her chest as she felt herself drawn towards the marble basin.
“It’s just a bath.” Xena cupped her cheek gently. “Don’t pass out when you get in there, or you’ll drown and it’ll just ruin my day, okay?”
The humor helped. Gabrielle dropped her eyes, knowing she was blushing, but nodded.
Xena held back a wry chuckle, as she untied the laces on her slave’s shirt, and tugged it over her head. A moment later, she added her own robe to it, and tossed them both to one side. Then she stepped over the edge of the tub into the pleasantly warm water and steered Gabrielle to do the same.
Which was hard, since the kid still had her eyes closed. Xena took the opportunity to study her bare body, noting the pleasant proportions as well as surprising, few scars in addition to the one on her leg. The girl took in a deep breath and her ribs expanded, easily visible under her pale skin.
Xena reached over and touched a faint bump on one of them, causing a slight gasp to escape from Gabrielle’s throat. This was not, the queen decided, the time to probe for the pieces of this particular puzzle however.
There would be time for that.
“Hey.” Xena patted Gabrielle’s cheek, and watched the pale lashes flutter open. “I’m not a guide dog.” She pointed downward. “Sit.”
The tub was more than large enough for both of them, and once settled, Gabrielle seemed to relax a little. She looked around her, touching the side of the tub with a sense of wonder.
As well she might. It was rose marble, and admittedly the nicest bathtub this side of Rome. Xena leaned her shoulder against the stone and lifted the soap off it’s holder, releasing some lather into the water. Playfully, she blew some of the floating bubbles towards Gabrielle and as they reached her chest, the girl finally looked up and met her eyes. “So.”
Gabrielle had apparently moved past embarrassment. “So.” She responded, her voice slightly husky.
“Here we are. Naked, in a tub full of hot water, romantic candles burning nearby…” Xena remembered to grin so the kid would know she was playing with her.
“It’s beautiful.” Gabrielle answered softly. “I’ve never been in warm water like this. It feels great.” She lifted her hand out of the liquid and let it run through her fingers. “I was… in our family I was the oldest, so I ended up with pretty cold water, in a wooden trough and my sister to get cleaned up.”
“I ended up in ice cold streams most of the time.” Xena admitted, with a chuckle. “Until I conquered everyone and took over this place. Now I can have hot water whenever I want, and damned if I ever ask for it.” She reached out and captured Gabrielle’s hand, scrubbing it lightly with the soap. “Besides, it’s a boring tub to be in by yourself.”
Okay. Gabrielle felt her heart settling down to the business of actually moving her blood around inside her instead of trying to climb out of her throat. It’s just a bath, like she said Gabrielle. You’re here, it’s nice, she’s just being playful… it’s okay. Her body relaxed and she decided to try a little playfulness herself.
Gabrielle inched a little closer and took the soap, getting some lather on her fingers and cleaning Xena’s hand with it. “You have really nice hands.”
Xena’s eyebrows lifted. “I have paws the size of a bears that can break walnuts or choke a horse, Gabrielle.” She opened her palm, exposing the muscular palm and long fingers.
“But they’re pretty.” Gabrielle disregarded the words, running soap over the appendage in question. “They fit you.. they’re the right size for you. I remember this lady that lived in Potadeia.. she was kinda short.”
“Like you are.”
“Shorter.”
“Ah. A midget.” Xena’s eyes twinkled more brightly.
“Anyway, her hands were almost the same size as yours.” Gabrielle continued. “They looked really weird.” She examined her handiwork. “But yours are just right.”
Xena reached out and drew a soapy line down Gabrielle’s nose. “If you say so.” She watched the girl’s eyes almost cross watching her finger. “Know what?”
“What?” Gabrielle blew a bit of bubbles across the water in idle delight.
“You’re cute.”
Green eyes gone round again blinked at her. “I am?”
Xena stroked her cheek, feeling the warmth erupt under her fingertips. “Yes, you are.” She answered seriously. “You’re adorable, and I really like that.”
Gabrielle went seriously tongue tied.
Xena’s lips quirked. “You’re supposed to say something nice back.” She instructed dryly. “And don’t mention my hands, that doesn’t count.”
The blond girl’s lips opened, then she paused and took a breath. “Um…”
“Um?”
“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”
Xena wiggled her brows. “Mm…. nice start.” She complimented her bath mate. “Now, let’s get washed up, so we can continue our discussion someplace drier.”
Gabrielle seriously wondered, after that, if she could possibly have floated out of the tub because she certainly didn’t remember climbing anywhere.
**
They ended up in front of the fire, sitting on the thick rug instead of on the chairs to spare Xena’s back the pressure. Sitting there in her woven shift, long legs crossed under her, the queen presented a far less imposing sight as she cradled a cup of heated cider in her hands.
Gabrielle suspected she was just getting used to adjusting to the whirlwind she now lived in. Instead of worrying about what was happening, and more important, what was going to happen, she simply enjoyed the feel of the sheepskin rug against her skin, the taste of the cider and the sight of this beautiful intriguing woman almost knee to knee with her.
She likes me. Gabrielle could almost taste the sweetness of the words. She thinks I’m cute. Even Perdicus, back home, who’d been the closest thing she’d had to a boyfriend hadn’t looked at her like Xena was right at that very moment.
Of course, Xena was way more gorgeous mussed and rumpled than Perdicus could have ever been on his best day and Gabrielle was pretty sure she hadn’t looked at Perdy the way she was looking at Xena either.
For a moment, she wondered what had become of Perdicus. He hadn’t been in Potadeia the day the slavers had hit them, and she felt a little awful thinking of him returning home to find everything gone. She looked up at Xena, who was studying the fire, deep in thought.
What would it have been like to see your family killed, when you were just little? Gabrielle concentrated and tried to remember what it was like when she was small, when her world had been simple; just mama and da, the baby she remembered Lila as, and warm blankets and sunshine.
She gazed at Xena’s profile, with it’s strong planes and uncompromising angles, and tried to imagine her as a little girl. It was hard.
As though sensing the observation, Xena shook off her deep thoughts and turned to meet Gabrielle’s eyes. She lifted her cup and sipped it, then extended it in silence towards the girl.
Gabrielle touched it’s side with her own cup, and they both drank. Xena shifted around so they were facing each other, her kneecaps just brushing Gabrielle’s. “So. Here we are.”
“Here we are.” Gabrielle repeated, with a tiny smile. “I’m.. um… “
“Scared?”
“Not… really, no.”
Xena’s eyebrows hiked up. “Reeeallly?” She drawled, rolling the sound out. “You’re not afraid of me anymore, Gabrielle? I don’t believe it.”
Well…The blond woman shifted and focused on her cup, it’s gently steaming surface sending the rich scent of apples to her. She heard Xena shift, and then next thing she knew the queen’s fingers were sliding through her hair and giving it a gentle tug. “I’m not.” Gabrielle peeked at her erstwhile tormenter. “Scared.. I’m just a little.. um...”
“Hm?” Xena lazily traced one of her slave’s ears, a nicely pink well shaped appendage. “A little what?” She slid her thumb over Gabrielle’s cheekbone, and felt the almost imperceptible pressure as she leaned into the touch.
“Ne..nervous.” Gabrielle stuttered softly.
“Ahh.” Xena chortled, almost under her breath. “Why are you nervous, Gabrielle? You been listening to those old woman’s tales about the great mysteries of.. ‘down there’ again?” She teased. “Afraid what I might do to you? Think you could end up growing a second head or something?”
Gabrielle had to laugh, just a little, at the image. She forced herself to relax and met Xena’s eyes. The firelight softened the ice blue, and she could see again glimmers of humanity behind them. “Not really, no. I mean..” She fingered her cup and smiled. “I’m seventeen, not twelve.”
“Ahh.” Xena said again. “You know, I usually don’t have these little discussions with my nubile conquests.” She mentioned casually. “Patience is not my virtue.”
Gabrielle’s eyebrows twitched. “I kind of figured that out.” She said, studying Xena’s face. “I know you can do whatever you want to me, and there’s not much I can do about it.” She watched a wary cast shield the queen’s eyes. “So why don’t you?”
Xena was silent for a bit, sipping her cider as she considered. “Because I told you I don’t rape slaves, and it’s true. I don’t.”
“Oh.” The blond woman nibbled on her lower lip, then blushed slightly. “Well, is it really rape… if the other person thinks it’s okay?” She stuttered getting the last word out, and her blush deepened to a deep crimson. She snuck a glance at Xena’s face, and caught a mixture of emotion on it that surprised her.
“It depends if the slave is telling the truth… or just wants to gain my favor… or is just too scared to say no.” Xena replied evenly. “Which is it, Gabrielle?” She pinned the slave with a glare, fierce and intent now.
Gabrielle frowned a little, then tilted her head thoughtfully.
“Well?” Xena’s voice dropped to a growl.
“I’m just trying to figure out…” The slave said. “If you’re trying to scare me…” She took Xena’s hand in hers. “Or scare me off.” Holding Xena’s gaze, she lifted her hand up and very gently kissed the knuckles of it. “Which is it, your Majesty?”
And Xena was caught. She stared at Gabrielle for long, frozen moment.
“I don’t want anything from you except what you want to give me.” Gabrielle’s voice was serious, and heartfelt. “Yes, I am scared, and nervous, and I have no idea what I’m getting myself into, and I might even end up dead because of it, but…” She looked down at the queen’s hand, laying still in her own.
The hand slowly lifted, with her fingers clinging to it, and laid itself flat against her cheek. Gabrielle felt Xena’s thumb brush her cheekbone and in the tenderness of the motion, she found the courage to look back up into those fathomless blue eyes.
“But you want to do it anyway.” Xena smiled slowly.
Gabrielle nodded hesitantly.
The queen closed her fingers around Gabrielle’s hand and clasped it, lifting it up and studying it with a darkly feral intensity. Her conscience teetered on the edge for the length of a hearbeat, then plunged over with a sense of dizzying flight.
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