“It is all right, Gabrielle,” Zara attempted to put the Greek woman at ease as she reached for the cup of water in Gabrielle’s
hand. Zara knew the art of seduction; she was fully aware of her body language. Never once lowering her eyes, she held the
traveler’s gaze as she turned the cup and drank from the same spot where the passenger’s mouth had touched. At this move,
Zara was pleased to see the smaller woman gulp, her lips close as her head tilted slightly.
“There is no hurry, Gabrielle. Your secrets are your own” the captain’s lips curved into an easy smile. Turning away, Zara
returned the cup to the water bucket.
“I don’t understand what you mean?” the blonde woman’s voice belied. If the storyteller was not going to be truthful with
her, then she would simply have to bide her time and wait until the Greek was comfortable with her, Zara reasoned. With a
smile, the dusky woman nodded toward her passenger, then slightly bowed. Signaling an end to their encounter, the captain
turned and made her way to her cabin. After such a work out, a bath was called for. As her mind recalled the image of the
blonde, the softness of her skin and the sweat covering her body, the captain decided to forgo warming the water and simply
damper her needs with the icy cold waters of the sea.
~~~~~~
In the darkness of the cabin, Gabrielle tossed and turned. She felt the hard bump of the mattress below her spine. Grumbling
to herself, she sat up and pounded her fist into the hard, lumpy fabric. As if willing it to softness, she pounded all of her
frustrations into the mattress.
“What’s the matter, can’t sleep?” Xena’s low, sultry words chuckled.
“Who can on this lumpy, smelly thing!” the blonde grumbled as she grabbed the scratchy blanket and rolled over.
“Hummm, doesn’t seem too bad to me,” her warrior lover teased.
“Yeah, that’s because you’re…” Gabrielle stopped herself before she said it, as if saying it would make it true. In some part
of her mind, she decided that if she never spoke the obvious, that it would not be real. This way, she could forget about the
incident that was the root of all her pain. Even though she knew this wasn’t healthy, it seemed the only way for her to keep
her sanity in this situation.
“Maybe you just need a distraction,” the husky whisper purred close to her ear.
“Xena!” the blonde tried to forestall her lover’s hands, but quickly stopped protesting as her ghost lover’s hands worked their
magic over her body. “Xena…” Gabrielle’s soft pleas rang out in the cabin as the tingling sensation of her soulmate’s breath
brushed against her earlobe. The shocks of pleasure seared through her soul and caused her to gasp, to inhale sharply as the
sensations coursed through her body.
Gabrielle felt Xena’s cold hands on her naked skin. In the pitch-black darkness of the cabin, she could not see her lover,
only feel her closeness. The tall body molded against her back, the familiar breasts against her skin. Xena’s hands, calloused,
warrior hands that were skilled in battle and love, covered her flesh with soft, gentle touches. As she leaned back into her
lover’s embrace, she allowed herself release. The tensions of the day, the sorrows of the night were a thing to be forgotten…
at least for these few moments in time.
When it was over and Gabrielle had received her blessed release, she felt a deep sorrow within her soul. As if she had been
dumped into a cavern of utter grief and despair, she felt her tears fall. The pain of the emptiness within her heart broke free of
the suppressive chains and flowed through her consciousness.
“Xena!” her whispered cry called out.
“I know, Sweetheart, I’m here for you,” her tall, dark lover assured while stroking her hair. Xena held her close and kissed
the side of her face.
“Come back to me, please. Don’t leave me again,” Gabrielle’s weeping filled the room as she felt her lover hold her close.
Her body was wracked with pain, her mind void of any thought as she released all of her sorrow and despair. When it
seemed as if she could cry no more, she softly hiccupped and listened to the sounds of the night. From somewhere far away,
she heard the dull cadence of footfalls.
“It’s the captain,” Xena answered her soulmate’s unspoken question.
“Why is she up so late?” Gabrielle felt it unusual to hear the steady sounds of footfalls.
“She does that sometimes,” Gabrielle felt Xena shrug against her in answer. “I don’t know why, I’ve just noticed that on
some nights, she’ll be out walking in the dark. No one is up except the night watchman and her.”
At Xena’s words, Gabrielle closed her eyes and leaned into her lover’s embrace. She felt fatigue pulling her under. As if the
sexual release had drained her of energy, she drifted into a fitful slumber. Each time the horror of her dream woke her, she
was soothed by Xena’s soft words. It was not until the early morning that she sat bolt upright, the stifled scream held in her
throat as she glanced around. One part of her mind was trapped in the nightmare, the other on her cabin surroundings. When
reality returned, she turned in the cabin’s bed, her bare legs dangled over the edge for a moment as the tips of her toes felt the
cold wooden deck. Before she could contemplate her nightmare, she stood, and slowly moved from the hard mattress.
With nothing to do, Gabrielle’s time on the ship seemed long. In the beginning, no one spoke to her except the little child.
Unable to speak her language and with no ability to communicate with the crew, she felt completely isolated and alone.
Although she was learning the language, the Greek woman knew that she still could not communicate with the crew. For one
reason or another, they had chosen to ostracize her, yet she did not know why. It wasn’t until recently that another avenue of
communication opened when she realized that the captain spoke her language.
Once washed and dressed, the storyteller left the confines of her cabin. The sky held the last remnants of the dark morning.
Leaving the corridor of the ship, Gabrielle made her way passed the crates. When she glanced up at the bow, she was
surprised to see the captain standing against the railing. For a moment, she examined the tall woman’s form.
The captain’s thick, dark, curly hair flowed freely in the sea breeze. Wearing a dark cloak, she stood still as she stared off at
some unseen image. The tall woman’s concentration never wavered as the ship swayed under her feet. Gabrielle could see
the woman’s hands gripping the rail, steadying herself against the rocking ship, the white sleeve of her shirt taking some of the
wetness from the splashing waves.
As some of the crew moved to the deck, Gabrielle climbed the few steps needed to reach the captain’s perch. Shivering
from the breeze, the shorter woman glanced back and watched some of the men lay out blankets while Nadrah moved to
stand on some crates of boxes before the men. The little girl smiled, then waved at the blonde, before the impish figure turned
her attention to the men. The male voices repeated the same phrase as they each took their place.
The first time Gabrielle had woken to the sounds of a child’s voice, she thought it was simply a way for Nadrah to pass time
while doing her chores. But when the men’s voices began to echo the little girl, she thought it might be a celebration. As if on
cue, Nadrah closed her eyes as she began the soft song. Following her example, the crewmen’s voices began to rise in the
air, the beat of their words taking on an easy, controlled cadence that resembled a song. It wasn’t until later, after seeing their
actions with their words, that she realized their songs were prayers.
When Gabrielle moved close to the rail, the captain seemed to pull back from her thoughts. The Greek healer noticed the
usual frown and arched brow as the Moroccan woman acknowledged her nearness. Sometimes the smaller woman found it
hard to open a conversation with the tall captain because she never knew if the seafarer was angry with her or simply wished
that she had never boarded the ship. With a weak smile, the blonde nodded up at the captain.
The brooding mariner seemed to examine her, to see her standing near the rail. After a moment of thought, the taller woman
reached up and removed her cloak, then wrapped it over Gabrielle’s shoulders.
“No, it’s all right,” Gabrielle tried to protest as she tried to push away the captain’s hands. When this proved futile, she
simply smiled and latched the clasp at the collar. “Thank you,” she offered to the Moroccan. In response, the captain simply
nodded and returned her gaze to the ocean.
