Gabrielle had been riding for weeks. At night, she camped out under the stars as she had done during her seasons as a sidekick and warrior. She welcomed the blanket of darkness and found that she could still herself to the point of hearing a cricket hop onto and off of a fallen leaf on the mossy ground.
As she rode through her old village, her heart began to race, thinking of Ratha and whether her friend, lover, and teacher would welcome her back. She had sent a messenger with a letter telling Ratha she was leaving the monastery. However, her eagerness would put her at the temple gates long before the messenger would arrive.
The blonde reined in her horse, guiding it to a halt. She jumped off and took the reins in her hands, walking beside the horse, steadying her heart and relaxing her active mind. The temple on the hill wasn’t the difficult climb she had remembered, probably the past few seasons of ascending the mountain had strengthened her endurance.
Just as she was approaching the temple, she closed her eyes for a moment or two. When she opened them, Ratha stood at the gate. Beautiful and sensual, the Indian woman stood before Gabrielle and her horse. She smiled broadly at Gabrielle who seemed taken aback to find her standing there. Ratha’s hair was unbraided and hung far below her shoulders, looking like silk and shining in the high sun. Her eyes were vibrant and youthful as she stared at her friend. Dressed in a yellow band of clothing, that covered little, Gabrielle found the whole affect very pleasing to her eyes. In her hands, Ratha held a garland of chrysanthemum that she held up for Gabrielle in greeting.
“Beloved, you’ve returned.”
Gabrielle couldn’t keep the grin off her face. “It is so good to see you.”
Gabrielle let the horse’s reins drop beside the animal and ran into Ratha’s arms, accepting the garland around her neck as she clung to her.
When they pulled away, Gabrielle asked, “So how long ago did the messenger get here? I was sure I’d beat him.”
“Messenger? There has been no messenger.”
Gabrielle shook her head. “Then how did you know to expect me?”
“It has been so cold here and I desperately craved your presence to warm me. Perhaps it was my yearning that encouraged your return. Did you hear me call to you?” Ratha beamed.
“Every night. And did you hear my response?”
“Throughout those nights, my lotus,” she said in a low timbre.
“I have so much to tell you.”
* * * * *
The sun had been bright in the afternoon sky when Gabrielle had arrived at the temple. Now, it had been replaced with a glowing full moon that cast a pleasant illumination on the balmy Indian night. She and Ratha were seated in a secluded garden as they had been all day. Flowers that had been opened and drawing in the sun were closed for the night. Only Ratha’s bees seemed to still have energy and Gabrielle could hear their surprisingly pleasant buzzing from where she sat. The blonde had been talking nonstop about the monastery, the masters, the villages below, and her dear novitiates whom she had educated in the art of war, the headiness of deep meditation, the mental clarity of yoga, and the pleasures of physical and spiritual passion. Her voice was tired and a hoarseness had claimed it candlemarks earlier, but she had continued.
“I’m exhausted, but there is one more thing I have to tell you. Something you need to know and...” Gabrielle paused, recognizing her own procrastination. She had been putting this off all day. “And I wish I had a way of knowing how you might react to it.”
Ratha’s eyebrow raised in humor. “You will have that answer, once you tell me.”
“Yeah, right. “ Gabrielle smiled weakly. “It’s the young woman, Kiran. The one I took under my wing, so to speak...”
Gabrielle reached out for Ratha’s arm and entwined it with her own, holding her hand as if it were a precious stone. Ratha turned and stared into the green eyes she adored, then rested her head on Gabrielle’s shoulder. Looking out onto the garden, she said, “I want to hear everything.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me if you could guess this.” Gabrielle suggested, continuing to be evasive.
“I probably could guess and I believe I would be correct, but I want to hear it from you and I want to know how you feel about it. That is very important to me and if you are having problems articulating this, please know I would consider this tale and your honesty a gift to me. I know you are fond of gift giving.”
Gabrielle lowered her eyes, staring at their hands—dark and light, so much like Xena and the Gabrielle of winters ago, but so different. Dark and light, one who had known only peaceful ways and the other who had seen and participated in her share of war, yin and yang, two personalities balancing each other so well. There hands fit so nicely together.
“Kiran’s full name is Ashakiran. It means ‘ray of Hope.’ I felt a closeness to her from the very moment I met her, but of course, didn’t know why. There was a special, wonderful bond instantly. When I learned the meaning of her name, my mind raced with theories—I see that look in your eyes Ratha, without looking at you. I realize that was my first mistake, letting my mind race. Well, I let it and had convinced myself that Kiran was the reincarnation of my daughter, Hope. I felt lucky that I would get the chance I hadn’t had before to be a parent, even if it was by proxy. I could mold her, help and steer her in the right direction, be open with her and provide Kiran with the skills needed to understand herself, her calling, and her faith. These last few springs, I loved her unconditionally. But just after I decided to leave the monastery, not too long ago, in fact, I discovered that Kiran was not the reincarnation of my daughter, Hope. No, not at all...”
______
The tears that gathered at the bottom edges of Gabrielle’s eyes finally spilled over and fell freely as the blonde explained everything to Ratha. When she finished, she sniffed and the corner of her upper lip turned up in a forced smile. “So, was it what you thought?”
“Nothing is ever as one thinks.” Ratha answered elusively, baffling Gabrielle.
The blonde woman’s throat was parched and felt raw, but she had to go on. Her biggest fear was that Ratha would be hurt and confused. “I want you to know that I came back here without any doubts in my heart.”
“Gabrielle, she is still your soulmate. Though in a different body with different experiences, you are still meant to be together.”
“Yes, but as you say, the relationship between soulmates is complicated and might not include all aspects of one’s needs or desires. I told Kiran she will always have a place in my heart and I do want to keep in contact with her. I’d even like for her to visit us here, have a home here if she likes. That is, if there is an ‘us’--if this is something you want as well.”
“Have you told Kiran what you know? What you’ve seen?” Ratha remained noncommittal, not giving Gabrielle the answer she had sought.
“No. And I won’t. She deserves to live a life without this hanging over her. Xena and I were put into a situation where we came face to face with our future selves. That shouldn’t have happened. It doesn’t happen to most people. Usually, we just go through our lives, feeling these odd connections here and there, feeling like we’ve done something or said something before in exactly the same context, but those things are fleeting and inexplicable. Xena and I shouldn’t have seen what we did. I shouldn’t know these things. I would never burden Kiran with this, too.”
“So you do feel burdened? Not at peace? I have watched you struggle for so long. I do not think it wise for you to commit to something only out of some sense of obligation or loyalty to me.”
“It pleases me...greatly... to be here. I came back because I need you in my life—not just sharing the sky and sun with you, but physically in my life to hold and cherish. I really need you.”
“And are you at peace?”
“Yes. Ratha...” Gabrielle bit her lower lip. “It’s not been easy for me. Xena and I had promised each other that we would see it out together, that we would meet on the other side, but she was brutally and heartlessly pulled from my life. I had been alone, traveling throughout the world trying to find out why and I kept coming up empty. When I was a young girl, it was so cut and dried--good girls went to the Elysian Fields and bad girls went to Tartarus. I would dream of my afterlife in the Fields—playing endless games with my friends, having all the nutbread I could eat, never having to do chores.” Gabrielle sniffed lightly, suppressing a laugh at her innocence.
“With your imagination, I am sure that your fantasy of the Fields was enough to keep you a good girl.” Ratha tightened her grip on the paler hand.
“Yes, I wanted to be certain I got in. My parents didn’t have too many problems with me. I would wonder just how bad a bad girl would have to be to end up in Tartarus. These were places I understood from our stories, from the things people talked about. I would see my parents place coins in the hands of dead relatives for Charon to make the crossing over a bit more pleasant. I believed these things with all my young heart.”
“And those stories have a value. Even now, they have shaped you in some way.”
“Yes, those stories and other things.” Gabrielle hesitated, thinking about her distant past. “Later, when I was with Xena, I met gods and goddesses—from Ares and Aphrodite to Odin, and even Kali and I believed in them. Then we died on a pair of crosses and we went to places called ‘heaven’ and ‘hell.’ Heaven was more spiritual than Elysia, but it was glorious and hell was darker and more frightening than anything I’d heard about Tartarus. I was there and believed in those places, too.” Gabrielle thought about how this sounded. “I guess I was impressionable like Xena always said.”
“Perhaps, you were merely searching for meaning.”
Gabrielle nodded. “Not too long after those experiences, Xena was given the power to kill gods and in order to save her child, she killed a lot of them, including Hades. It struck me that if Hades was dead what would happen to the Elysian Fields and Tartarus? If those places no longer existed, would my loved ones be able to hear my thoughts? Would I hear them? I wondered when we died, what would become of us? I couldn’t stop thinking of this. And, in heaven, we met an Archangel named Michael who was as close to god as any form could be, but he was manipulative. He was supposed to be untainted and pure, but he wasn’t. We weren’t too accepting of heaven and hell suddenly. From our visit to India, we knew and had witnessed reincarnation, too. This, I was convinced of and didn’t question. Naiyima, the darsham didn’t have to tell me, for I always knew—Xena and I were like lines of the mehndi, separate, but forever entwined and that we had already shared lives and would again. But Xena died and my world changed. I became unsure of everything. Would I find her again? Could she hear me? Where was she? Would we ever meet again?”
“That must have been a difficult time for you.” Ratha felt Gabrielle’s pain and uncertainty.
“I don’t think I ever shared this with you…”
“What?” Ratha loved Gabrielle deeply and wanted to know everything about her.
“I had traveled north and was living with the Norse people. I had once felt safe there and thought it might be a place to start again. I had arranged for a room and was unpacking my few belongings. I picked up Xena’s sleeping shift, lifting it to my nose, just to capture her scent again. It was a nightly ritual since she had been taken from me. That night, I sniffed the shift and it didn’t smell of her. I was like a madwoman, moving my hands across the shift, pressing my nose to spot after spot. Her scent had to be there. I needed it to be there.” Gabrielle relayed the desperation of that time in her voice. “I had never washed it, kept it away from all of my other things. I shouldn’t have lost her scent, but somehow, I had. I was frantic. All night long I held onto that piece of cloth, sniffing, sniffing. It was like it suddenly all over, like I had imagined it.”
“Imagined what?”
“Xena.” She said simply. “It was as if she never existed except in my head. All I had left were these things—a shift, the chakram, the sword, the saddlebags, and my scrolls where I had detailed our lives together. There were times I actually believed that I was just an inventive writer, like it hadn’t happened. I spent days reading those scrolls and when I finished, I thought it was all too far-fetched to be believed.”
“Gabrielle.” Ratha’s heart was breaking along with the blonde’s.
“I can’t describe the loneliness I felt. Ratha, I wanted to die.”
Ratha wept softly as Gabrielle continued. “But I pulled it together because someone knocked on my door pleading for help and that was my job. That’s when I knew it had all been true. I was a warrior; I had loved a warrior; we had gone on adventures. After that though, I couldn’t bear to have Xena’s ghost close to me. I knew she wasn’t mocking me, but it hurt. It hurt so much. I retreated into myself and stayed there until I moved to India.”
Ratha sat patiently waiting for Gabrielle to continue.
“Maybe if I hadn’t experienced all that I did, I wouldn’t have felt such confusion. If I had just lived a quiet life of a farmer’s wife, I would have felt certainty in my life and faith.”
“That would have been a sad alternative for me. I doubt the Greek farmer’s wife would have found her way here.”
“No, not likely.”
_____
Sometime later, Ratha asked the question that had been demanding attention, no matter how she tried to unclutter her mind. “Gabrielle, if you had not learned Kiran’s real identity, would you still feel peace or did you need this information to move on?”
“I had decided to come back before I learned that Kiran is really Arminestra. Knowing the truth didn’t change my mind. I still wanted and needed to return to you.”
“Is that an answer to my question?”
“You’ve told me that there are many answers to a question. I don’t know if that’s an answer, but it is definitely a result. I wanted to come home.” Gabrielle turned and faced Ratha. Using both hands, she held the Indian woman’s face between her hands. “I wanted to get back here to you.”
That night after a long, hot bath, Gabrielle reclined in the bed that she and Ratha had shared. Ratha fed her raw vegetables, flatbread and a bowl of lentil soup. Before long, Gabrielle fell into a deep sleep, exhausted from her travels, drained after her day’s worth of talking, and calmed by the sweet smell of cinnamon incense.
Ratha placed the dishes outside their room and returned to the bed, climbing in behind the sleeping blonde and wrapped her arm around her protectively.
It was just before dawn when Gabrielle slowly moaned in her sleep and without a moment’s hesitation, Ratha pulled her closer. Gabrielle snuggled in and moaned a second time. Lightly as if she were responding in a dream, she whispered, “I love you...” She sighed. “Ratha.”
* * * * *
At first, they had been tentative with each other. Neither woman seemed prepared to make the first move. Ratha would not take on the role of teacher nor would she behave as a clinging lover. She would wait for Gabrielle. Gabrielle was afraid to push after her long absence and her muddled thoughts about the two women she loved. She didn’t want to act inappropriately or insensitively.
It had been four days since Gabrielle’s return and already, the two women were getting back into their routine. They started each morning with meditation and prayer, asking and answering questions about their personal discoveries; at mid-morning, they would sit in the garden and munch on apples, oranges, and drink a strong lemon and mint tea. Ratha would go off and work with her bees while Gabrielle wrote or practiced her drills (something she finally admitted was more than a mere dance to her). Just as the sun was moving past its highest point, the women would come together for a candlemark’s long session of yoga. Both women were flexible and would enjoy pushing themselves to add more and more complicated positions to their practice. Once yoga ended, Gabrielle would bathe while Ratha finished up with the bees, pouring honey into clay vessels to sell to the nearby villagers. In the evening, the women would meditate again, allowing it to take its natural course. Sometimes meditation would last less than a candlemark, other times, it would go on long after the candle had melted away and they sat in darkness. At the end of the day, Ratha would take a long and fragrant bath. After, she’d join Gabrielle in bed and the blonde would breathe in deeply the mingled scents that were both pleasing and intoxicating.
On this fifth day, Ratha walked to the small stream that ran behind the grounds of the temple. Gabrielle was bathing and the blonde’s beauty took her by surprise. The Indian woman stood paces from her and watched her in silence. It was her sigh that caused Gabrielle to look up.
“Hi.”
“You are just splendid.” The moment was exquisite. Gabrielle’s radiant skin competed with the sun for the most dazzling golden hues.
“Then it has paid to be away. You find beauty in this plain body.”
“Gabrielle, I believe you are fishing for compliments.” Ratha moved closer and squatted beside her in the grass, lightly running her fingers through Gabrielle’s damp hair.
“Uh-uh.” Gabrielle denied, but her blush gave her away.
“May I help you bathe?”
Gabrielle quickly moved aside to make room in the natural cutout of a pond. She stared up at her as the darker woman stood and unwrapped her sari, showing off her delectably strong, yet soft body. Instantly, she felt her heart quicken at the sight. Ratha slid into the water, taking Gabrielle’s hand for support and guidance. “Oooh, nice and warm.”
Gabrielle nodded, unable to speak as her eyes surreptitiously devoured the body before her. The blonde, from her seasons of having traveled with Xena and having lived with the Amazons at different times, was well aware of the body changes a woman made during a moon’s entire cycle. She could tell by just her small, furtive glances that Ratha was close to her bleeding time. Her breasts looked heavy and full. Her nipples usually pressed against her areolas, becoming part of the disk without any protrusion, but at this time of the moon, they were erect and extended. Gabrielle could feel a strong twitch of arousal beginning between her own legs. Ratha had entered the water quickly, but Gabrielle had seen the tuft of dark hair at the apex of Ratha’s legs. She was reminded of Ratha’s mouth-watering smell and the feel of that soft, black hair when she parted her, opening her flower to savor her scent and taste her. She licked her lips in response to her thoughts.
This expression wasn’t new to Ratha. She had seen Gabrielle’s eyelids hood over like this many times, had seen the blonde take a big swallow of breath, had watched as her chest heaved in anticipation, and observed her wildly beating heart lift her breasts under Ratha’s gaze. Ratha smiled and edged behind Gabrielle.
Picking up the sea sponge, she gently scrubbed Gabrielle’s back in easy circular motions.
“I ached to see this fierce dragon.” Ratha commented on Gabrielle’s tattoo. “And the woman who wore it.”
Gabrielle sighed, loving the gentle touch of hands that knew her so well. “You like my dragon?”
“So much so that...Look?” Ratha stood to her full height in the stream and turned so that her butt was just above the water.
Gabrielle turned and looked down. On Ratha’s cheek, there was a tattoo about a fourth the size of Gabrielle’s, but it was identical in every other way.
“Wow.”
“It was to remind me of you, I did not stop to think that I would not be able to see it.”
Gabrielle pulled her close so that the Indian’s back pressed against Gabrielle’s chest and abdomen. The blonde slid her hand down to caress the tattoo on Ratha’s cheek. “Nice.”
It didn’t take long for the nervousness to vanish. This time Gabrielle searched the water for the sponge and picked it up and began lovingly bathing Ratha.
Gabrielle experienced Ratha’s body fully. As she washed her, Gabrielle moved around her, circling the Indian woman in an innocent yet titillating way, breathing in her essence, letting Ratha hear her soft breaths; allowing her to feel them against her neck, beside her ear, at her shoulder, near her breasts. Facing her, Gabrielle stared into the woman’s face, feeling the power of home in her presence. “Your lips are so full, soft, inviting. Kissing you is something I missed terribly.”
“Kiss me now, Gabrielle.”
Gabrielle pulled Ratha to her. Ratha expected a mighty, lingering kiss, but Gabrielle barely grazed her lips at first contact. Second contact let Ratha know that they were at the beginning. The third touch of lips to lips came with a promise of passion as Gabrielle’s fervor exploded in Ratha’s mouth, making both of them weak-kneed.
Slowly, they made it out of the pond and onto the grassy border of the garden. The two women sat facing each other with Ratha sitting in Gabrielle’s lap. Their bodies were in full contact—Ratha’s heart pounding against the right side of Gabrielle’s chest, while Gabrielle’s beat to the same rhythm against the right side of Ratha’s.
“Touch me everywhere, my love. Know me completely.”
“Yes.” Gabrielle answered breathlessly.
_____
It had been so long since they had last been together this way that it would have been easy to slip into a quick quenching of desire. Instead, Ratha and Gabrielle fell into a playfulness that seemed to relax and welcome each woman back into the other’s life and arms.
Ratha remembered all of Gabrielle’s ticklish spots and soon had the blonde trembling with laughter and begging her to stop. Meanwhile, the brown-eyed woman was struggling with her own control as Gabrielle gently nipped at her, tickling Ratha’s skin with her teeth. Before long, both women were rolling on the soft, plush grass, pretending to flee from the other’s grasp, but failing miserably.
“Oh, no you don’t.” Gabrielle giggled. “Get back here.”
Ratha had rolled about five paces from Gabrielle and every time Gabrielle reached out to her, Ratha would scamper away, sometimes continuing her roll, sometimes crawling. “No, you cannot catch me.”
“When I do, you’ll be sorry.” Gabrielle threatened with a smile and leer as she tried to pull her into her arms again.
Teasing, Ratha asked, “What will you do to me?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Gabrielle nodded as if she had just concocted a plan.
“Perhaps we can work something out.”
“Give?” Gabrielle asked reasonably.
“You can take anything you want, Gabrielle. I willingly submit to you.” Ratha’s response was seductive.
“Hmm. Do you now?” Gabrielle was crawling, too, a few strides behind her. Just as she reached out to grab Ratha’s leg, it slipped from her hand and Ratha crawled quickly away.
“Yes, my love. I am yours for the taking.” She turned her head to look at Gabrielle and laughed.
“If I catch you?”
“Visualize it, Gabrielle.”
“Umm. Yes, teacher. I see it now.” Gabrielle smiled as she closed her eyes. Ratha, caught off guard by her partner’s apparent total immersion in the exercise watched with interest. In a move very much like a tiger’s, Gabrielle’s arm stretched out quickly and accurately, her hand encircling Ratha’s ankle. “It worked.” Gabrielle laughed.
“Sneaky as a snake.”
Gabrielle’s tongue darted in and out of her mouth doing a poor imitation of a snake after its prey. “Yes, I’m a snake.” Gabrielle cackled.
Ratha laughed, rolling onto her back and stared into Gabrielle’s green eyes. Hovering over her, Gabrielle smiled at her victory, but a moment later, her breath caught in her throat when she saw that behind Ratha’s lighthearted actions lurked a woman bursting with hunger. And that hunger was reflected in Gabrielle’s eyes. The Indian woman flipped the bard over and now rested on top of her.
“Look at you...” Ratha spoke huskily, overjoyed that her lover had returned.
Gabrielle pulled her down and they shared a long, romantic kiss to make up for the seasons they’d been apart.
“Goddess,” was the only word Ratha could speak.
“Goddess.” Gabrielle replied in total agreement.
Ratha moved down Gabrielle’s body, slowly feeling her way from neck to chest, to breasts, past her waist, around her hips and down her legs. As Ratha moved up after a short, but arousing foot massage, Gabrielle spread her legs without thought. It felt so good to be this close to Ratha again, to have her so close to her need, to allow the woman to see her treasure that she entrusted only to her gaze, her hands, her mouth. “Please, love.”
Ratha bent into her as Gabrielle rested her feet on the upper part of Ratha’s back. Picking up one of the many jasmine flowers that had fallen onto the grass, Ratha gently crushed it letting the petals float onto Gabrielle’s womanhood. It was a particularly juicy flower and the nectar from its base, burst through as Ratha squeezed it, letting it flow and mingle with Gabrielle’s own wetness. The smell of jasmine permeated both of their nostrils and Gabrielle moaned loudly thinking about the time Ratha had said the flower smelled of passion.
Ratha opened Gabrielle in much the same way the woman opened any other flower when designing a garland. Her fingers moved with delicacy and precision, spreading her open, moving along the thick folds, slowly grazing the thinner petals, massaging them between her finger and thumb, sliding a finger to the place where the nectar gathered and spreading it throughout. “Oh, oh, yes.” Gabrielle said, loving Ratha’s small fingers against her. “Ummm.
The Indian woman bent further and began licking both Gabrielle and the jasmine nectar. She rolled her tongue over the intricate folds, kissing and nipping at her, sliding her tongue up and down the length of Gabrielle swollen pink lips. The blonde was lost in a state of sensory overload. She could smell the jasmine hanging from the vines and on the ground around her body. The strong scent of sandalwood and cinnamon lingered on their bodies from the soap they had used in the pond. The fragrance of freshly tended grass filled her nostrils, too. Ratha’s expert tongue danced against her in a movement so primal--earthly, yet heavenly. Long black hair tickled Gabrielle’s thighs and she reached out to run her fingers through the softness of it. She loved Ratha’s hair--thick, yet silky. And inside, her emotions welled threatening to pour from her.
Now, Ratha’s tongue was making smaller and smaller circles as it drew closer to Gabrielle’s hardened center. Gabrielle felt herself surrendering to the intimate touch. “Umm, Ratha.” Her hand fell from Ratha’s hair and reached out to hold the dark hand that hugged her thigh. Pulling the hand from its position, Gabrielle brought it up her body to rest on her aching breast. She pushed Ratha’s hand into the full flesh and with her hand over her lover’s, she helped her knead it. Ratha groaned when she felt the pebbly flesh of Gabrielle’s tight nipple. She groaned right into Gabrielle’s center and that sound pushed Gabrielle further into the overpowering passion she felt for the woman. It was all Gabrielle could do to stay in the moment. She felt outside of herself while she pressed Ratha’s hand down further, pushing and squeezing, rubbing and caressing her breast. “Oh, Ratha. Feels good.” Suddenly as if she were noticing it for the first time, Ratha sucked Gabrielle’s clitoris into her mouth and sucked on it with patience and care, extracting emotions from Gabrielle that the blonde had cordoned off during her time at the monastery. Now those emotions flowed and it was difficult work holding back. But holding back she would. Gabrielle didn’t want to climax no matter how passion-filled the result would be. She wanted to linger right at this spot, never edging off the cliff, holding off that final surge of energy until she and Ratha had entered a spiritual place together.
Pushing away from her talented lover, she moved Ratha’s hand away from her breast. “Not yet. I’m not ready. Please hold me. Let me tell you how happy I am to be back here in your arms and in your temple.”
“Our temple.” Ratha said, moving up Gabrielle’s body so that they could rest side-by-side and cheek-to-cheek. “Our temple.” She repeated while squeezing the blonde triangle between Gabrielle’s legs. “Our temple,” she whispered once more as she took Gabrielle’s hand and did the same to the area covered by her triangle of black hair.
Gabrielle took advantage of her current spot and slipped her forefinger between Ratha’s folds. Her stomach flipped over when she felt the thick, viscous fluid that had dampened her wiry hairs, her folds, and her inner thighs. “Umm, honey. I like this.”
“I love you,” one or both of them said before losing themselves to private thoughts. The two women simply stared at each other for many, many moments. No verbalizations were necessary, nothing demanded or requested from either woman. They lay next to each other savoring the moments of their lives that brought them to this point and lingering in the present moment that gave them such happiness.
______
The morning dew and perspiration clung to the women who had been locked in a lover’s embrace throughout the previous day and into the night. They had both sent the other over the edge twice, but mostly they had been riding the ardent waves of desire for candlemarks. Each woman moved in the waves, careful not to let the other slip into the depth of orgasm.
The pleasure was almost blinding, deafening, and uncontrolled, yet they did control—breathing, resting, and speaking lovingly to one another. Their positions had changed many times. Sometimes Ratha hovered over Gabrielle, barely allowing their bodies to touch, yet Gabrielle’s skin was goosefleshed with the magical touch. Later, Gabrielle sat in front of her, as the two looked out into the darkness. Ratha whispered requests into her ear. “Your breasts call to me. I so want to hold them, feel you harden against my hand. Would that please you?” Gabrielle reached back and pulled Ratha’s arms, wrapping them around her. She placed her hands over Ratha’s and moved them to fulfill Ratha’s need as well as her own. Not long after, Ratha whispered, “I smell your desire. May I?” She slid her hand to Gabrielle’s thigh and waited for a response. When Gabrielle arched her back, tilting her head back to kiss Ratha, the Indian woman slid her fingers between the Greek woman’s folds. Long past the black of midnight, the women were back in their initial positions, Ratha sitting in Gabrielle’s lap. Slowly, Gabrielle slid down into the cool grass and as she did, she moved Ratha up her body until her beautiful flower with its dark pink petals was a breath away from Gabrielle’s mouth.
Now, at the birth of another dawn, they lay beside each other, each with one leg bent to provide access. Gabrielle’s fingers were buried deep inside her lover. The two spots where the goddess made herself most known to the blonde received attention--inside, Gabrielle massaged her fingers over the rough area that had a bit more thickness and on the outside, Gabrielle’s wet thumb slid over the other gift from the goddess, Ratha’s hard center of desire. Ratha’s womanhood held and enclosed Gabrielle tightly, barely allowing for the thrusts that had increased in the last few moments. The Indian woman grunted in ecstasy, seeing flashes of light and a glowing aura of bliss surround her again. Gabrielle’s green eyes poured into Ratha’s dark ones. The orbs never moving from each other.
“Ugh. Oh, goddess. Oh, Gabrielle. Yes, Gabrielle. Sweet elation.” Ratha cried.
Ratha’s fingers were actively seeking out all of Gabrielle’s pleasure zones, too. Gabrielle pushed against those fingers, feeling the rapture building again. She could feel Ratha’s hard nipples pressing insistently against her, her clitoris swollen and throbbing against her thumb. “Yes, Ratha. Yes.”
“You feel so good. Goddess! Yes.” Ratha’s body pushed hard against Gabrielle’s and she let out a strangled scream.
“Take...me... with you, Ratha.” Gabrielle whispered, following the request with a low groan.”
Ratha’s fingers slid in and out of Gabrielle, while her thumb stroked her engorged clitoris. Gabrielle jerked. “Yes, oh, Ratha. Yes. Yes.” She cried out surrendering with Ratha.
As the two women came down from their climaxes, their fingers remained inside of each other, relishing the contractions of their muscles, enjoying the stickiness of their lovemaking. Finally, Gabrielle pushed away, leaving her fingers inside her partner. She moved to her knees and scooted down, gingerly crawling to Ratha’s legs. She looked at the Indian woman as she lifted one creamy leg, then the other over one of Ratha’s legs. Ratha opened her legs up fully, spreading herself open. Gabrielle’s head lowered and she slowly began licking her soft, aroused petals. “You are so beautiful.” She muttered. “All of life’s secret’s are here. This is sacred to me.”
Ratha moaned under Gabrielle’s attention. The blonde’s heart felt like a clay pot or vessel filled to capacity with love and desire. As Ratha’s hips thrust forward and her hands gripped Gabrielle’s hair, pushing her deeper into her center, Gabrielle felt the vessel empty and pour into Ratha. Just as the Indian woman came close to toppling over that edge, Gabrielle surrounded Ratha’s clitoris with her lips while filling her with her fingers. Ratha’s body froze and Gabrielle’s womanhood throbbed and pulsed in response. Both women lay together in perfect harmony--drained, emptied, but somehow complete and finally sated.
Much later that day, Ratha sat up, recalling something she had wished to mention to Gabrielle. “While I was alone, working yesterday, I was contemplating reincarnation.”
“Umm. Go on.”
“I came out to find you to tell you about it. When you were bathing.”
“Umm. Yes.” Gabrielle smiled lazily.
“I was thinking about how you and Xena had gone into the future and met your future selves, but you didn’t meet the future selves of the others whom you had loved. You didn’t see your daughter, Hope’s future embodiment, or your friends...” Ratha paused as she tried to recall the names. “Autolycus or Iolaus. You didn’t see the future lives of your parents and Xena didn’t see her mother or her son...Solon, isn’t it? All of those souls you’ve cared about and others were absent in your travel into the future.”
Gabrielle sat up, too and nodded. “Right. What are you getting at?” Green eyes turned toward Ratha, very interested in where she was taking this caravan of thought.
Ratha giggled, almost embarrassed to say, but she did. “Maybe I’m one of them. Maybe Niti is the shell that holds one of their souls. Or how about the other novitiates you had trained? Could each of them be carrying the soul of your friends and family? You know that Kiran is really Arminestra and Arminestra is Xena’s future self, but you know nothing about the rest of us. We’re all bonded to you in some way. As lovers, friends, and admittedly, some of us, like Pariket and even Niti are perhaps, thorns in your side, but the bond is unmistakable. Maybe, it is our karma that you and I are sitting here today and that we have shared lives together before and will again.”
“Probably. I hadn’t thought of it. ” Gabrielle agreed.
“It is a moot point, is it not? We will never have that knowledge.”
“No, we won’t, but I am certain that you are right. It wouldn’t alter the reason I am here, though. In this life, at this moment, this is exactly where I want to be.” Gabrielle pulled Ratha to her and hugged her tightly.
“Gabrielle, life is eternal. It has no beginning and no end. The loving friends we meet on our journey return to us time after time.” Ratha spoke softly in Gabrielle’s ear.
“We never die because we were never really born.” Gabrielle whispered in reply.
Ratha pushed back and looked at her golden one. “You must write that down. I belief we have discovered meaning.”
“I will,” Gabrielle promised. “But first let me hold you a while.”
* * * * *
EPILOGUE
Far too many winters and springs had passed to count.
It wasn’t as often as Gabrielle had wished, but occasionally, Kiran, who had reclaimed her birth name, Arminestra would visit the temple, too. As Gabrielle had predicted, she had far surpassed her mentor, carrying herself as if she glided on air, a serene and loving expression always on her face, a smile for the lonely, and a helping hand for the ill. Ratha and Arminestra became fast friends and confidantes. This pleased Gabrielle a great deal for no two women were more important to her. Arminestra was her soulmate, but the sexual chemistry she had possessed with Xena was not present. She and Ratha had formed a loving union that she respected beyond measure.
Each visit would find Arminestra asking her mentors questions about things she had observed during her travels. Gabrielle, being the one who had the most experience with the outside world shared her thoughts and offered advice on dealing with hostile forces, warmongers, and dangerous men and women. Arminestra relayed stories of a group gathering a following throughout the sub-continent. The small band of warlords were raising towns, pillaging, destroying lives and Arminestra felt that she had to go. Gabrielle and Ratha encouraged her, but reminded her of the perils in the world and begged her to not put her life in jeopardy. They knew the latter request never reached her. Arminestra was the kind of woman who would deal with any menace head on. She wouldn’t resort to violence, but she would face her enemy and stand up for her beliefs. By example, she felt others would stand with her. Always, the youngest of the three women would end these talks by simply stating, “there must be peace.”
Several summers earlier, Arminestra arrived at the temple with another woman—a master of yoga with a playful nature. The woman, Deepti seemed to bring out a more carefree Arminestra. Gabrielle’s former student would hang on Deepti’s words and grace her with a radiant grin in response to a comment. At first, Gabrielle found it unsettling, but later, she was happy for Arminestra. They were a good match and Arminestra seemed calmed by her. The blonde hoped the relationship would last, especially witnessing just how devoted Deepti was to Arminestra. It took only a few visits before all four women were comfortable together, sharing ideas, hopes for the future, and remaining students of life.
Arminestra had been Gabrielle’s student and what she had learned from her teacher and from her teacher’s partner about love was shared with Deepti. Late in the night and well into the wee of morning, Ratha and Gabrielle could hear the two women coming together again and again in physical and spiritual ecstasy. Their tender words of desire and groans of delight echoed throughout the temple. The first time Gabrielle had heard the sounds of their pleasure, her stomach tightened in sorrow. Arminestra’s vocalizations were so much like Xena’s--the way she cried out, her intonations, and groans were Xena’s; her requests for a particular touch, Gabrielle had heard before coming from her long dead blue-eyed, raven-haired lover. Over time, Gabrielle was able to put those thoughts aside and would simply be inspired to connect with Ratha that way. The next morning, the four women would share hot tea and warm glances.
When Arminestra and Deepti visited the temple, they also offered their skills to women who had joined the temple as students. For over fifteen winters, Ratha and Gabrielle had trained hundreds of women, young and old in the ancient ways of goddess worship through meditation, exercise, and rituals, taught the concepts of sacred lovemaking, and ways to express true love.
With each new group of women entering the temple, there would be an uprising by the men who had followed them, intent on preventing their education. The men would come with torches and loud voices, some with spears and others with daggers. They would attempt to cajole their wives and lovers with promises of a better life at home and when that failed, they would threaten them. The temple became not only a place to strive for enlightenment, but a shelter from abuse. Gabrielle and Ratha were forced to rebuild significant sections of the temple destroyed by purposefully set fires on several occasions. It was not unusual for them to be pelted by rocks and pebbles when they opened the temple gates to receive the women. Gabrielle, like Ratha would take the peaceful approach, talking to the men, and offering them food and water after their long journey. But sometimes, the men would go too far and when the violence escalated, Gabrielle would run for her sais, give them a twirl and jump into the fray. (Gabrielle had come to terms with the duality of her nature and was at peace with it. She was nurturing, caring, loving, joyous, and open, yet she was a warrior when she had to be, able to embrace her darkness when she needed to. She was yin and yang, elephant and monkey. She would do what was necessary to protect those who could not take up arms.) Eventually, the men would retreat, beaten back by one lone woman.
Ratha and Gabrielle could set the change of seasons by the bloodshed and brutality at the temple. It only happened when they received new students at the turn of the seasons. The last attack had proven to be especially hostile. It was fortunate that Ratha and Gabrielle had opened the temple to would-be warriors—strong women who would protect those who walked a different path. When the violence broke out, the warriors in training surrounded the temple, taking down many men. Some of these warriors’ lives ended on the grounds and for Gabrielle, it was reminiscent of the fights she had participated in with the Amazons—against the Centaurs, against Pompey and Caesar, and the defining Gabrielle battle against Artemis’ son, Bellerophon. This time, she had led these young women into battle against their own men, giving them a talk of encouragement for fighting for their beliefs. It had been a difficult night for her and Ratha tried to soothe Gabrielle’s breaking heart, but the Indian woman just had no idea what Gabrielle was going through.
Xena’s words from long ago came back to her. Xena having lived a warrior’s life knew how Gabrielle felt. She recalled two of their conversations after the big battle between Artemis’ son and the Amazons. So many of the warriors had been killed and it had been Gabrielle who had led them. Gabrielle had told Xena she had done what she had to do, attempting to take the edge off of how she really felt. Gabrielle, I can see that you're in pain. Xena had said. Xena, don’t…don't say that. Don't try to make me feel better about this. Half of my tribe lies dead on the beach. Now, I have to be as cold and ruthless as I can be. I'll do whatever I have to do to keep these women alive. Gabrielle felt that way again. Here at the temple, it felt exactly the same. She had won this fight, too, yet she felt a greater sense of loss. War’s tough on us all, Gabrielle. Xena had commented. Gabrielle was living a new life, but it was picturing Xena’s blue eyes, staring at her with love and sincerity that gave her solace that night.
There had been no recent conflicts since no new students had entered the program and life continued at the temple as usual until one morning. The day had started off no different from others, but not too many candlemarks later, there was tension in the air. It was tangible and eerie. The wind had picked up and the sky had gone from a pale, metallic gray to black by noon. Gabrielle had pleaded with Ratha not to go on her daily trip to the village, but Ratha insisted. There were items she needed for the temple and the only way they could afford them was to barter with her delicious honey,
A group of men had surrounded Ratha as she was departing the temple to the village. Her cart was filled with pots of cinnamon and lemon flavored honey. The men overturned the cart, breaking the vessels and pots by throwing them at the peaceful woman’s head and body. Gabrielle heard a scream over the howling wind and ran to the balcony to find the cause of such a bone-chilling cry. She saw her lover drenched in honey. Her long black hair was matted and the brown liquid dripped from her chin, nose, and arms. Her sari was plastered to her skin by the gooey sweet. The men taunted and yelled at her, calling Ratha vile names. With each pot they flung at her, there would be another curse, another epithet. “Whore!”
“Promiscuous bitch.”
“Man-hater.”
“Sinner against the gods.”
“Liar.”
“She drugs this honey and feeds it to our women. They are under her spell.”
Gabrielle had seen what was going on below and was already on the way to take care of it. She could hear the name calling as she ran through the temple, retrieving her sais, quickly grabbing a few of her students who were on the Path of the Warrior. In actuality, very little time had passed, but for Gabrielle, reaching Ratha’s side took forever.
Her arms held the sais with comfortable ease, exacting blows with precision. The warriors beside her used their swords to assist while Arminestra who was visiting the temple managed to slip into the melee, pull Ratha out, and sequester her inside the temple.
When it was over, the few men left standing, retreated with the usual vow to return with reinforcements. This time, only two warriors were hurt—one of the new students had a broken arm the result of a man twisting it until it snapped and Gabrielle was left with a severe sword wound to the belly where one of the men had run her through.
Once inside the temple, healers carried Gabrielle into one of the three rooms reserved to treat injuries. While they tried to make her comfortable, Ratha with her hair still matted and face glossy with honey whispered quickly to Arminestra. The younger woman nodded, then ran from the room. A group of students chanted over Gabrielle. Ratha walked to the pallet and sat down beside her, holding her hand, staring into the face she loved so much. With immense effort, Gabrielle opened her eyes for the first time in a candlemark. Green eyes pierced Ratha’s brown ones and the former bard, whispered in such hushed tones that it sounded only like breathing.
“What? What, my beloved?”
“Not the first time you’ve been covered in honey, hmm?” Gabrielle attempted a sexy laugh, but her inability to take in oxygen and the pain of her still bleeding wound caused it to sound strained and faint.
Ratha shook her head, the barest of smiles crossing her face before tears rolled down her cheeks. “N...no.” She wailed.
After taking a few shallow breaths, Gabrielle struggled to continue. “Ratha?” She waited until she had her lover’s gaze again. “You... took such care with me…sometimes being hurt in the process. I’m sorry if I ever hurt you. I always loved you.” She said haltingly, laboring to voice her feelings.
“I know. I know.” Ratha squeezed her hand with
all the emotion she had felt for her over the seasons.
A tall, dark-skinned woman loomed in the doorway, staring at the scene of her mentor and friend with an enormous expression of anguish in her eyes. Gabrielle’s eyes slowly moved across the room, away from Ratha to behold Arminestra. Ratha turned and looked, following Gabrielle’s eyes. She beckoned Arminestra forward.
The younger of the three women moved beside the bed with colossal effort. “Teacher.” She sniffed while giving Ratha the black urn containing Xena’s ashes. Ratha gently took her hand and guided it into Gabrielle’s.
“Stay on your path, daughter.”
As they spoke, Ratha, with tenderness and reverence placed the urn beside Gabrielle, so that her arm rested upon it. The blonde gave Ratha’s hand a squeeze in acknowledgment before her lover stood to speak with one of the healers.
“Gabrielle, don’t leave me. Please don’t go, not yet. I need you.”
Gabrielle’s eyelids fluttered and it was a chore to maintain focus. “You have to spread peace. That is who you are. You are gifted.”
Arminestra stood and began pacing the small room. “I don’t care. You’re all that matters. If I’m so gifted, I’ll stay here and help you to get better. I will pray over you.” She stared out of the window, watching as the wind blew leaves across the courtyard. “I can ride for another healer, one skilled in this type of injury. My responsibility is to you, teacher...” She turned to face a very weakened Gabrielle. “…mother.”
“No, you are the Mother of Peace. Please, Arminestra. Be strong now.”
Her long legs carried her back to Gabrielle’s side in two steps. She knelt beside her, taking her hand. “I love you. You are the other half of my soul. I still feel that.” She rested her head on their joined hands unable to speak. Finally, she sighed and looked into Gabrielle’s eyes again. “What happens to me without my other half?” Warm, heavy tears made twin trails on both sides of her face as she clutched her mentor’s hand.
“We will meet again. We are forever entwined, daughter.”
“Don’t leave me. Don’t you leave me. Don’t die.” Arminestra begged, hoping that she could pray away the inevitable.
“We never die.”
Ratha knelt on the other side of the bed, grasping Gabrielle’s other hand. Gabrielle turned to look at the woman whom she had shared a life and bed with for most of her seasons.
“Ratha, we are like lines of the mehndi, too.”
Sparing a glance at both women, the farm girl from Poteidaia, the tagalong, the sidekick, the Amazon Princess, the Amazon Queen, the Battling Bard, the student and teacher, the lover and partner of Xena and Ratha, the surrogate mother of Arminestra, the soulmate quietly slipped away.
* * * * *
MOMENTS LATER
There had been no midwife to call. Ajay and Pavarti had been traveling on foot, moving from their small village to a larger city to await the birth of their first child. Pavarti’s water had broken and it was all Ajay could do to get her off the road and into a sheltering forest. She was now squatting beside a tree, her sari pulled up high on her hips. The young Indian woman had never experienced such pain and she looked at her sweet, young husband for support and to calm her fears. Ajay was close to fainting, though. When she screamed out again, he seemed to come out of his daze. This scream was more shrill and elongated than the ones that had come previously. He squatted in front of her with a look of worry. “Push, love. Keep pushing.”
Another scream, then a sudden quiet as the baby’s crown appeared.
“By the gods, the baby’s coming!”
“I know that!” She yelled in irritation, while panting and pushing. He reached between her legs and began to gently pull as she pushed.
“Here it comes. Here it comes. Almost there.”
With one final push, the baby entered the world and Ajay and Pavarti cried over the cute, alert boy. Pavarti fell back, panting in relief and joy.
When Ajay had finished the work of a new father, using his dagger to cut the cord and tying a small, careful knot, he placed his newborn on his wife’s chest and then lay beside her. “You did great.” He said, then kissed her forehead. “He is beautiful.”
Ajay bent to whisper to his baby boy, then looked up into his wife’s teary eyes.
“What did you say to him?” His wife asked curiously.
“To always remember that he’s safe because love would be his guide.”
His words caused a new flow of tears to leak from Pavarti’s eyes. Ajay was a sensitive man and now she was doubly blessed with this handsome son. She smiled at the two men in her life and Ajay returned the gaze with the love of a dozen husbands and fathers.
“And we’re agreed on the name?” he asked.
“Yes, Shakti.”
* * * * *
THE END
* * * * *
NOTES:
3/5/02