DISCLAIMERS AND WARNINGS: This site and its author have no connection whatsoever with the actual show Xena: Warrior Princess. That show and all its characters are the property of its creators and the appropriate licensed agencies. This site is run for fun by a fan, and no profit is made from it. Gods willing, there is nothing here to sue me over.
This site is subtext friendly, and yes, some of the stories may contain graphic descriptions of sex between two women. Some of the stories may also contain graphic descriptions of sex between men and women. There may also be a certain degree of violence in some of the stories. They may contain all sorts of things. I won't know for sure until they have been written after all. In any event, if this type of content offends you, or if you are under the age of 18, or if this is illegal where you live, please go away.
SPECIFIC TO THIS STORY: The Characters Xena and Gabrielle belong to RenPics et al. I make no claim to their creation. Original characters and situations are mine and no fault of the PTB's. Certain events in the actual canon timeline, for example the Twilight of the Gods bit, Callisto the good, and other events in Season Five, did not happen in this timeline. Major Warning for Violence Later in the story, small degree of het content (not our girls of course). Not exactly my usual type of story... darker overtones... but still Uber, more or less.
OUT OF THE SHADOWS
CHAPTER EIGHT
Kayl sighed heavily, grimacing at the nagging pain in her legs. The top of a wall was an uncomfortable perch at best, and she’d been on this one for much too long. She stretched as far as she dared, trying to focus on the women below her. Surely she’d catch some hint of their plans sooner or later.
Unfortunately, time was short. Magnus had notoriously little patience, and he’d be waiting for her to report. Kayl needed to get things moving, but the question was how? She could probably dance on top of the wall without the two women noticing her. Entwined in one another’s arms, they were oblivious to the world around them.
The fervour of their embrace was tangible even from Kayl’s hiding place. She’d been surprised by the first kiss, and then amazed. She couldn’t remember ever seeing two people willingly shed their clothing with such speed. Oddly enough, the little blonde had been the aggressor, bearing the big warrior firmly to the ground. Something about that bothered Kayl—she wasn’t sure why, it just seemed off somehow.
Brushing the thought aside, Kayl sighed again. They could quit at any time and she wouldn’t complain. Playing voyeur had never held much appeal for her, and now it was just plain inconvenient. While Magnus might be interested in knowing that these two were lovers, that information alone wasn’t enough to buy Kayl her dreams.
She had to be able to give him more: their plans on a silver platter, for instance. Kayl was too close to her dream to lose it now. For the first time, true freedom seemed so close she could almost grasp it. She had only to keep herself on the right side of Magnus’ capricious nature. She didn’t want to wind up like so many others.
Her legs hurt. Kaylie tried to stretch, but the ropes wouldn’t let her. She’d been tied like this for hours, all bent over with her knees far apart. Every so often somebody touched her in her private place. That hurt too. Quietly, she sniffled a little. She was trying to be brave, but it was getting too hard. Where were Mommy and Daddy? She wanted to go home.
Twisting her head a little, she tried to look around without moving. From this position, all she could see were legs. Some man was shouting about traitors and punishment. The legs moved aside, and she could see a big fire. Just then that awful touch came again, tearing into her, burning…
Kayl snapped back to the present, her whole body shaking, fighting the urge to scream. She could still feel the force of that first intrusion between her legs. Whatever that memory had been, she knew she wanted no part of it. It was too strong. Even now, she could feel the terror rising, knew it would swallow her if she let it.
Grimly she looked back down at the little clearing. These bizarre memory flashes were becoming dangerous. They made her lose all sense of her surroundings—made her vulnerable. They had to stop.
Xena was losing herself by inches. Gwyn’s lips were hard and demanding, dragging a response from her despite her misgivings. She could feel her resistance crumble to dust under the onslaught of sensation. The scent of the younger woman’s desire rushed over her, flooding her with emotion. Moaning softly, she tangled her fingers in Gwyn’s hair, pulling her closer.
There was some reason they shouldn’t do this, but it was fast escaping her. The voice of reason sputtered and died—crushed beneath the tide of desire. It had no place in the moment. Gwyn was warm and alive in her arms, so much like Gabrielle.
Gabrielle.
Struggling to hold the bard in her thoughts failed. Xena swore she could hear Gabrielle urging her on. The last ember of resistance flickered and died. So be it. This time, she didn’t have the strength to cry ‘halt’.
As if in answer to her thoughts, Gwyn fumbled with the fastening to her vest. A rush of air kissed her skin as the zipper finally gave. Warm fingers cupped her breast, and she arched into the caress. Gwyn’s lips blazed a trail of fire downwards to a taut nipple.
Green eyes flicked upwards to Xena’s face for just an instant before Gwyn drew that morsel of engorged flesh between sharp white teeth. A flash of fire raced straight through to the warrior’s core, searing away all conscious thought.
Almost of their own volition, the warrior’s hands tugged at Gwyn’s sweatshirt, trying to pull it up and over her head in one motion. There was a brief struggle as the younger woman protested the need to let go of Xena’s breast, however slight the interruption. Stilling her with a kiss, the warrior continued her quest for bare skin. It took only moments to strip away all barriers, both hers and Gwyn’s, leaving them flesh to flesh.
Xena rolled the younger woman onto her back, allowing her fingers to trail gently over her firmly sculpted abdomen, watching with interest the trail of gooseflesh left in their wake. A welter of emotion tumbled through her as she looked up and met Gwyn’s eyes.
What she saw there took her breath away with its intensity. As Gwyn pulled her down onto the bedroll, she gave herself over to the joy the other woman had wakened in her. For the first time in centuries, Xena was home.
Cursing under his breath, Brion shouldered his pack and strode from the Camp. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d left its confines. The grizzled veteran hated the Burnouts—hated the reminders of all he had once been. Not for the first time, he berated himself for the weakness that had brought him under Magnus’ thumb.
The manipulative bastard took advantage of every opportunity to rub his nose in it too, lording it over him even after all these years. As if Brion could ever forget.
He had been so young then, barely a man. Magnus had been nothing more than a child.
Proud and honoured to wear the blues, Brion walked the beat with a spring in his step. He loved his job, loved the aging neighbourhood. Oh, there was an air of genteel poverty about its streets, and the buildings no longer whispered of pristine elegance, but it was his home. He had grown up there, just like those he had sworn to protect. He knew all the faces that belonged, all their stories.
They couldn’t hide from him—he knew all the secret places, all the hidden doors. Not that there was a lot of crime in the area. Mostly penny ante stuff, petty pilfering and a wannabe gang. Just the thought of young Magnus and his ‘men’ brought a smile to Brion’s face. The boy tried so hard to be tough, but he always fell short.
No. Despite the closeness to rougher neighbourhoods, it was a pretty safe place to be. Safe enough that Brion’s brother had just moved his family back into their mother’s old house. Drew and Lynda were settling in fine, and their little daughter loved exploring all the nooks and crannies of the old brownstone.
Everything was pretty much perfect. He had a job he loved, and family around him.
Shuddering, Brion drew himself back to the present. It had been perfect. Right up until millennium night—the night he’d shown himself for a coward. The night he’d betrayed everything he loved to save his own sorry hide. Even now, the memory of what he had done sickened him.
How could it not? He was faced with the product of his treachery every day.
Three figures graced the treetops, watching. When they spoke their voices were mere whispers on the wind. Ares in particular, was fascinated by the scruffy little blonde perched so uncomfortably atop the wall.
:Curious. I could have sworn she was safely in Tartarus, Uncle.:
:I owed her a favour. She wanted a new life. I gave her this one.:
:A favour? Never mind. I’m sure I don’t want to know.: Artemis’ tone was acerbic, making the leaves rustle madly. :This doesn’t look much like a favour.:
:Hush sister. I’m sure he had his reasons for giving her a life no kinder than the last. She’s as dangerous this time around—still mad.:
Ares chuckled deep in his throat.
:At least with her here, the show can only get more interesting.:
As she felt Xena’s resistance fade, Gwyn knew an odd sense of duality—as if she were not the only person inside her skin. It was, in its own way, as overwhelming as the feelings raised by the warrior’s closeness. She struggled briefly to retain her awareness of self before it slipped away, the two disparate halves melding. For the first time, there was no gaping void in her soul—no inkling of something missing.
She was no longer simply Gwyn, the throw-away child. She was also Gabrielle. She knew both love and loss—knew them intimately. Still, she was here. She was whole and she was strong in Xena’s arms. Sighing, she allowed her hands to roam freely over her warrior. She had longed for this, searched without knowing what she sought.
As they crested the peak together, she shattered and was remade whole. No longer Gwyn or Gabrielle, but something greater.
And Xena. Their bond was whole, and stronger than before. Nothing would ever separate them again—nothing could. Looking up into her lover’s blue eyes, she smiled. "Even in death, my love." Was her only observation.
Kayl watched impatiently as the two women surfaced for air and began to talk. Finally. Maybe now she could learn something useful. She leaned forward to hear what they were saying and just about unseated herself. She nearly lost her perch to no avail. All they were talking about was love. ‘Imagine’ she thought scornfully, ‘believing in love in this world.’
She listened a bit longer, then quietly climbed down from the wall. Once she was on the ground and away from possible discovery she stretched vigorously. Turning to leave, she froze.
Brion stood directly in front of her, a gun trained directly on her forehead.
Text & Original Images (c) M.C. Sak 2002