by Man of Void
Damn, it's hot.
My sweat has glued my underwear to my skin, even my blanket feels moist. Anxiously I'm wavering on the edge of sleep. I roll over to my side, and let the blanket fall off, but it offers only temporary relief. The bag that serves as my pillow has lost its form, and I adjust it without much success. It stinks in a way that makes me wonder if there's something in there that shouldn't have been there in the first place, and that that something is now oozing away from its broken shell. I'm too tired to care.
It was a mistake putting up a camp near that creek this time of a year. Frogs have a mating season, and their calls have been filling the night for Zeus knows how many hours. As if the heat wasn't a nuisance enough.
I turn to my stomach, and then to my other side, hitting my right cheek to the bag with frustration. The smell intensifies, and I roll my eyes. To roll my eyes, I have to open them.
There, two arm lengths away, I see the blonde, sleeping like a child. How does she do it?
She lies on her back, her closed eyes looking straight up. How beautiful she looks in that dancing light that our little fire casts on her face. A deer skin upon her bosom slowly rises and descends with her breathing in a peaceful manner. I find it relaxing, yet at the same time I envy her for her calmness. Unwittingly, my eyelids are falling shut again.
Something's caught in her breath as it halts for the shortest moment, thus bringing me back from the edge that I was just about to cross. Her face changes momentarily, she swallows, and I feel an ill-disposed smile surfacing. Troubled by something in her paradise of dreams, she turns to lie on her side as well, and now faces away from me.
And suddenly, my drowsiness is gone, and I'm fully awake, all my senses in desperate alert.
As the secret is unveiled.
Her deer skin, barely large enough to completely cover her, follows her as she rolls over, and its skirt no longer reaches the soil with its full length.
Where the skin is lifted, the light of fire reveals more skin. No cloth. No underwear. No pajamas. Just bare, human skin.
The blonde is sleeping naked.
My eyes first fix upon her right, now exposed shoulder, where her top has left a clear tan line on her smooth, gleaming skin. Tilting my head slightly, I continue with following her spine downwards, until it disappears under the deer skin between her shoulder blades. Then I let my gaze trail on its diagonally descending edge, until the soft arch of her waist distracts me. The last thing visible is a half, or maybe a mere third of a buttock; round, tight, and nicely shaped, even though being compressed under her weight. One of the nicest buttocks I've seen, I think, smiling approvingly.
Seriously frightened of myself, I snatch my eyes away in panic. This can't be happening. I can't have these thoughts.
In a while, I remember how to breathe again.
I've seen her as undressed before. Why's this any different? This hot night must be playing tricks with me.
Now slightly confused, I add some wood into fire, and shortly afterwards I realize that the increasing light merely brings her more visible. For a while I consider dousing the fire completely, but that might give some of the beasts of the forest the required encouragement to come and disturb us. I take a deep breath, and let it out slowly, before reaching out to pull her deer skin back up for coverage. But I'm not quick enough. Or maybe it's lack of determination that delays my hand a second too long.
Before I get hold of her blanket, she lifts her head to bring her right arm underneath it to serve as an additional pillow. As she adjusts her position, a bunch of well defined muscles comes alive, popping into existence around her shoulder and upper back, and almost completely disappearing as she relaxes again. Only the shoulder muscle remains. Its shape is fascinating in a way I'm unable to comprehend. The layer of lazy fat under her skin has been becoming thinner due to constant wandering and exercise, and it now allows her muscles show while at the same time it still gives her softness that I lack myself.
I swallow, and envy her even more.
For the following seconds, or minutes, or hours, loosing the track of time I study everything that the deer skin is revealing to me, hoping that she would move again and lift the skin a mere inch more, if only to give me more to study. I now know the hair in her neck better than she herself, and I've discovered a charming mole in her shoulder that she may not even know about. I know how she breathes, as I now breath with the same rhythm. I now know her heartbeat, since my heart now beats with hers.
I remind myself that the thing in her that had attracted me before was the spirit, the compassion, the mind of hers. Now there is another attractor that I had used to ignore; her body. Where a girl had laid down in the evening, a woman now slept. That's how it feels, of course the change must have happened over longer period of time.
I'm lost in my thoughts and fantasies so that I almost miss my moment, as suddenly, when I least expect it, she moves again. The deer skin lifts an inch, no more, and my heart accelerates out of her sync. Then, despair! She lays down to her back, and the damned deer skin takes my view away. I'm sinking into disappointment.
There shouldn't be any reason to feel low, as I now see her face again, at least one half of it. I can still make out those features of a child -- round cheeks, short nose, large eyes -- that make me just want to pull her close, cuddle her, and hold her tight, too tight. Now these features are being, and have been for some time, replaced by more womanly features, and the current mix, as breathtaking as it is, is still making way to a true beauty. But even while wondering these things, I already have another desire on top of my mind. I've been given a glimpse, and I now crave for something better, something new and unexplored, something unknown.
For once I pray for the gods whom I despise, and for once they answer me, granting me my wish. She bends a knee, and the deer skin drops off, completely uncovering her left foot, ankle, leg, knee, and most of the thigh. I must have been blind all the day today, and every day since meeting her, not noticing what I now witness.
I immediately realize that what I see is not what I was expecting, and also that my expectations had been unrealistic. A woman as small as she can't have long, lean, and beautiful legs.
Instead, the foot I see has callouses due to all that walking that she has to do when I'm allowed ride. Some scars look like they've once been painful, yet I don't remember her complaining. Such a brave girl she is.
After the slender ankle, the leg is short, as if somewhat stunted, with surprisingly wide girth. But now I know, that none of that girth comes from a dead, useless mass of fat, as is the case with some people. That leg is trained in jumping, kicking, and traveling great distances.
My breathing gets heavier again as my gaze passes the pretty little knee, and approaches the thigh, now following a couple of sweat droplets going into same direction. After the finger-thick tendon, the thigh quickly broadens, eventually getting broader than I remembered, and looking very strong for a woman of her size. For a woman of any size, actually. Sweat droplets slowly forecheck their way pass the delicate hair on the thigh, and at last arrive at the buttock area usually covered by her skirt, where they disappear out of my view.
At this point I've long forgotten my expectations, as for now I can't imagine legs more perfect. The one that I look at and admire, and it's pair still covered, are complete. How come only now I am to notice that? Once more I blame myself for blindness.
But now that I've gone this far, there's no appeasing my hunger. Plans well up in my feverish brains, and all of them aim to the same goal; I need to see more. I need her to move, and I need to get rid of that deer skin. In the secrecy of the night I scheme and plot, and finally, after careful consideration, I'm ready to put things into motion.
For the second time I extend my hand at her direction. For the second time she foils my plans. She coughs, and I suddenly realize that she's awake. My excitement changes into fear. How long has she been awake? Does she know I'm awake? I close my eyes tightly shut, and fight to keep my breathing steady. She must not know that I've been watching her. If she knew, she would... she would ask questions. Questions that I don't have answers for. But what if she already suspects something? If she guesses my thoughts, my false, forbidden, dirty thoughts?
Unless putting a spell on me was her purpose all along.
No! This must not come to light, not ever. If she guesses, if she asks, I'll deny everything.
I'll keep my feelings my own, suppress them, bury them deep, and make sure she will never find out.
Because maybe that way I can keep her.
I turn away from the blonde, and try to fall asleep again. But after what I just went through, what I saw, with the images still fresh in my mind, it's going to be difficult. How could I forget those images when I only want to cherish them?
In the forest the mating calls of the frogs are waning, which predicts the dawn a mere hour away. I ignore them, and pull my soaking wet blanket over my head.
Damn, it's hot.
DISCLAIMER:
Xena, Gabrielle and the other characters from the television series Xena: Warrior Princess are property of MCA/Universal and Renaissance Pictures. No copyright infringement was intended in the writing of this fan fiction. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author. This story cannot be sold or used for profit in any way. Copies of this story may be made for private use only and must include all disclaimers and copyright notices.
All works remain the copyright of the original author. These may not be republished without the author's consent.
August 19, 2004, Man of Void (moviki.fi)