Disclaimer: The characters of Xena: Warrior Princess and Gabrielle are owned by RenPic and Universal. This story depicts a love/sexual relationship between two consenting adult women. If you are under 18 years of age or if this type of story is illegal in the state or country in which you live, please do not read it. If depictions of this nature disturb you, you may wish to read something other than this story.
If you would like to send email to Rosemary - please forward your mail to Mary at kira@zip.com.au and Mary will forward your mail to Rosemary.
A Bard's Tale
by Rosemary
I rage. I long to scream, and hurl curses to the Gods.
But I am silent.
I feel as if I could take my staff and battle any army.
But I am still.
The night is rare, with stars and moon so bright everything appears as if in a dream.
But my eyes are closed.
I hear the whisper on the wind through the trees, the wood on the fire; and I hear them; speaking so quietly as if to be my own half remembered thoughts. A new sound pierces my heart. A sound so familiar the pain it causes is almost a death. He is here; removing her armor, a task that until now was mine alone.
I need to see. I roll over as if restless and peer through half closed eyes. Marcus is so close to her that their shoulders almost touch. But he is of no interest to me. Xena is. She stands tall and beautiful in the firelight. She is a goddess, her hand rests on Marcus' chest as if warding him away. Her eyes are turned to me. I don't dare move for fear of giving myself away.
Marcus pulls her to him, his mouth hungry on hers. How I have longed to take her like that. My lips to hers, breast to breast. They lay together and the fire blocks my seeking eyes.
I close them and listen with my heart in my throat. I hear the rustle of a blanket, the soft moans that escape her lips. I imagine the way she looks, mouth parted, arms outstretched, gliding across firm muscled flesh. My heart pounds. I move slightly and again open my eyes. The sight steals my breath.
Xena, as I imagined, firm arms clutching his, her long hair partially masking her face, lips parted, she arches her back; I cannot bear it. My eyes shut out the moment, but I cannot deafen my ears. A sound escapes her. A sound of release and pain, sorrow and joy, delight and despair. I look and she, in all her beauty, at the height and breath of that release, she who is my world, my light, my heart, is looking at me. Her so clear, so blue, that so easily mask her thoughts and desires; open then to me and in that one moment I see clearly what drives her on; her passions and loyalty, her honor and fears. I know also her love.
Marcus collapses on her, breath short, head turned away. She continues to look at me. I dare not blink, for I want to capture it all. A single tear runs down her face and her eyes close.
After a long moment, she rises. Marcus whispers something but she does not answer. I watch as she strides away from camp, picking up her thin undergarment as she leaves. And now I do what I have always done, what I will always do, I follow her.
She is not far, I see her in the moonlight. She knows I am here, but she offers no acknowledgment. I sit next to her lending her my strength, my love, and say nothing. She reaches for me then, and I go eagerly into her strong arms and rest my head on her shoulder. "He needed me Gabrielle." She breathes. "I know." "I didn't want to hurt you." Her voice is breaking as is my heart. I blink back tears and look into her eyes, clouded in pain. I reach up and stroke her face, her cheek, and her throat. Without thought or fear I kiss her. I kiss her as I have longed to since the day we met. I kiss her with the hunger of someone half starved. She does not stop me or utter protest. My hands slide down her shoulders pushing the straps of her chemise down. I press my lips there and stroke her firm flesh with my tongue. At last my heart sings, at last.
I can hear her ragged breath, so different to my ears but so familiar. She gasps as I bite her throat, then she presses my mouth there. The warmth of a thousand suns seem to engulf me and I want more. Gently, I push her to the soft ground and continue my attentions. Her strong hands settle on my hips lifting my loose garment to my waist. I take her mouth in mine and plunder it with my tongue, not stopping until we both are breathless. I can feel her desire rise with every touch on my hand and mouth. I pull on her chemise until I cry out the frustration.
Rolling me over, she removes the offending fabric and lowers her hardened nipples to my waiting mouth. My tongue moves over them, careful to pay equal attention. I watch as she watches me and feel my own desire sweep through me like a wave. I must have given myself away in that moment, for again she is the teacher and I her willing student.
She lowers her mouth to my breasts and teases them until I feel a scream in my throat. She slowly moves down, leaving a wet trail of kisses on my heated body. My legs open for her; and her tongue, at first gentle, grows insistent. I pull her to me and feel my spirit fly. Now she rises, she wraps her strong legs around my thigh and slowly begins to writhe. I can feel her wetness and I press upward with my leg and am rewarded with a groan so deep, it could have come from her soul. She kisses me as her tempo increases, her tongue darts in and out and I can taste the saltiness of myself on her lips. Suddenly she becomes still and then a tremor vibrates through her. I can see her clench her teeth to keep from crying out. And then it is over. She pulls me into her arms and holds as I weep tears of happiness.
If joy is something that only happens once, then for that moment it is mine. She holds me; my heart, my love, my life, and words once whispered only in my dreams, now come from her lips, "I love you."