“Yes, I knew what Xena was planning. I-I just…” she hesitated a moment, then a wave of tears were released again. “I should
have stopped her on time… I shouldn’t have listened to her… I-I could have helped her, but instead…” her voice was barely above a
whisper. “It was all my fault,” she whispered as she once again buried her face into Zara’s shoulder.
The Moroccan remained silent. She held the smaller Greek through the waves of pain and listened to her account through the sobs.
With her fingers stroking Gabrielle’s hair, Zara heard the tale of the storyteller and her warrior princess. She listened intently as the
blonde told her about Higuchi and the ordeal she underwent. At the story of her lover’s death, Gabrielle began to cry again, her
words coming out broken. She told the dusky woman how she was going to return Xena’s ashes to her family lands. The captain
remained silent through the whole tale and listened with interest when the Greek spoke of the Fountain of Strength. When Gabrielle
seemed worn out, her words grew silent as slight hiccups escaped her control.
“I’ve said t-too much, haven’t I?” Gabrielle whispered against Zara’s shoulder, “and I’ve gotten your shirt all wet.”
The captain smiled as she pulled the smaller woman close. “Nonsense, the shirt will dry, and I assure you that you have not said too
much.”
“Are you sure?” Gabrielle seemed uneasy with her words.
“Of course,” the captain repeated as she felt compelled to lay a light kiss on the Greek woman’s forehead. Assured by her actions,
the blonde looked up at her. Zara gazed into her eyes, realizing that there was yet more that Gabrielle had not said.
“There’s more?” she asked the traveler.
The Greek warrior looked at her intently, and then nodded. “She’s still with me,” she softly whispered.
“Of course she is with you. When you love someone, they will always stay within your heart,” the seafarer assured as she held the
smaller body close.
“No, that’s not what I mean,” Gabrielle broke into Zara’s words as she leaned on her elbow and looked down at her. Maintaining
eye contact, the blonde’s voice was deep and controlled, “I meant that she is still here, with me. Her spirit, I see her and talk with
her and…” the blonde hesitated as she averted her eyes. The captain noticed the flush cross the passenger’s cheeks.
“She is here on the ship with you?” Zara asked, masking her rapid heart rate while trying to give an appearance of calmness.
“Yes,” Gabrielle’s voice was low as she dropped her head to the Moroccan’s shoulder.
“Is she here now?” The captain asked, unconsciously looking around the cabin.
“No, she’s giving me privacy now.”
Zara nodded understanding as she thought over the new information. She felt herself releasing a sigh as she closed her eyes
to the multitude of thoughts. The Moroccan had heard of such couplings and knew that such a bond could never be severed.
“Captain?” Gabrielle’s voice broke through her thoughts.
“Yes?”
“What is your real name?” the grieving woman asked.
“I’ve told you my real name, remember?”
“I know, but everyone on the ship calls you something else, and sometimes Abu calls you another name,” the inquisitive nature
of the storyteller shined through.
“When I was born I was given the name Azzah. It is my birth name,” she began to explain. “And to ward off the evil eye, not
to mention because I have blue eyes, I was given the secondary name of al-Zarqa’ meaning, the blue-eyed. Al-Agadir is my
family name, bint Majnun, means I am the daughter of Majnun. Ibn means that my father is the son of Sayyar. Al-Hallaj is a
title that means dealer of cotton, because my ancestors began as merchants of cotton, and abd Allah means that my
grandfather is seen as a man of god.” Zara explained. Although she could not see Gabrielle’s expression, she could tell that
confusion remained within the smaller woman’s mind.
“But,” Gabrielle’s brow creased in concentration as she thought over the captain’s words. “What I hear them call you doesn’
t sound like any of those names. It’s a lot shorter,” her honest confusion brought a smile to the Islamic captain.
“Sometimes Abu calls me Zara because that is the name that my little brother used to call me. He couldn’t say Azzah, so it
was shortened to Zara.” The dark haired woman explained.
“Oh, Zara!” Gabrielle’s smile widened as she caught the name she had heard. For a moment, the Greek passenger practiced
her name. “Can I? I mean, is it all right if I…” but her words became silent as she gazed into the captain’s blue eyes.
“Of course,” the dark woman nodded. “You may call me Zara, if it pleases you,” the captain conceded. At her agreement,
Gabrielle smiled, then relaxed against the taller woman’s shoulder. Nuzzling into her body, the smaller woman remained quiet
and allowed the silence of the room to reign. The captain heard the sound of the waves against the ship. The last voices of
the crew were replaced by the sounds of the night ocean. If it had not been for the continual throbbing, the wound on her
hand would have been forgotten completely. Just when the captain thought that her guest had fallen asleep, Gabrielle’s voice
broke through the silence.
“Zara?”
“Yes?”
“Can I ask you for a favor, and you not take it the wrong way?” the smaller woman asked against her shoulder.
“Of course,” the Moroccan found it easy to respond.
“Could I…?” Gabrielle’s words grew silent as she leaned on her elbow and looked down at the dusky woman. “Could I
feel your warmth?” she asked her as she touched Zara’s damp shirt. For a moment, the seafarer did not understand her
request. Then, as understanding dawned, she sighed as the meaning of the request became clear. With a slight smile, the
captain nodded as she sat up in the bed.
“I guess it would not hurt. After all, it is wet,” the captain smiled as she easily pulled off her shirt and tossed it aside as
Gabrielle did the same with her own shirt. In a casual move, the smaller woman sat up on the bed, and began to unlace her
boots. When the blonde jumped off of the bunk, Zara lay back and watched as Gabrielle kicked off her boots, and then
began to wiggle from her clothes. Once the Greek was naked, she turned and gazed at the captain. Seeing this, the lusty
captain raised a questioning brow. At her silent question, the smaller woman shook her head negatively as she climbed back
on the bed.
“Please don’t take me wrong, I’m not asking for anything else, I just really need to feel a warm body next to me right now,”
her words were almost a chuckle as she moved to the ties of Zara’s breeches.
“All right, point taken,” Zara protested as she helped the Greek untie the lacings, then lifted her hips so Gabrielle could pull
her breeches down. In an easy move, the Moroccan had her own sandals kicked off as the smaller woman’s deft hands
pulled her pants off. At the slight chill from the room, the taller woman quickly crawled under the blankets on the bed and
held the cover up as the blonde followed suit.
“You realize you may drive me to madness?” the captain stated with a slight chuckle as her guest snuggled close.
“Why?” Gabrielle asked in genuine curiosity as her leg draped absently over Zara’s leg.
At the feel of the soft flesh, and Gabrielle’s scent so close, Zara groaned as she wrapped her arm over the smaller body. The
taller woman inhaled deeply as she felt Gabrielle’s firm breasts against her side. When the storyteller climbed on top of her
and stretched over her prone body, the Moroccan clenched her jaw as she fought down the rampant emotions of desire.
