Chapter Ten: Figs and Pigs

Sitting in the dining room, Xena listened to vast spiel rushing forth from Varinia's mouth. She wasn't one for flowery language, nor did she care much for Varinia's thoughts or tribulations concerning Xian. She had her own ideas of what she wanted to be planned for her son, and those things certainly weren't anything relatively close to Varinia's vision.

But she wasn't a part of Xian's life. She carried him for nine months, gave birth to him, cared for him during their three short years together, but she wasn't his mother. She didn't raise him. Xian was an adult, although, in Xena's mind, he was still a child. He didn't know the difference between a dull and sharp end of a staff. He tried to make it believe he knew so much, but he knew so little.

He was a child in Xena's eyes—a child inside an adult body.

The mentions that Varinia spoke about concerned Xena and made her want to bring her son closer to her. After being apart for so many years, the thought of him moving away caused her chest to contract.

She couldn't listen to it anymore.

"Enough," said Xena, raising a hand. "I've heard enough."

The vein in her forehead was pulsating listening to the nonsense, except it wasn't nonsense. Could Xian really have such malice within him to leave indefinitely? After everything Xena went through to get him out of Rome, she assumed he would at least be a bit more grateful. But, no. He couldn't wait to get rid of her in every way possible.

Varinia leaned forward, whispering, "what are you going to do?"

Xena drummed her fingers on the table. "Nothing."

"W-what? Nothing? But you must do something! I don't want to leave Abydos! I like it there. He's being so…so…unreasonable!"

"If he wants to leave, I cannot stop him. If you two are not getting along, I suggest you cut ties with him," said Xena.

She rose from the chair and hastily exited the dining room. Varinia sat with her mouth agape and dropped her head, resting it on her crossed forearms upon the tabletop.

Gabrielle, a fair distance away, nearby the window, heard soft footsteps behind her. Those weren't the same thundering steps she heard earlier this morning. How could this woman be so menacing when she needed to be, but also so soft at the most unexpected moments?

Turning around, she saw a new expression from the conqueror. Hurt. Well, she had seen this expression before, but this was a new type of hurt. Her eyes, glossy from impending tears, and cheeks porcelain with splotches of fuchsia. What happened in that room?

"Everything alright?" Gabrielle asked.

There she stood, silent. It wasn't an unusual reaction at this point, but it was always unsettling. Gabrielle parted her mouth to speak again, then heard sobbing from the other room.

"What's going on?" she creased her eyebrows. Walking over, she spotted Varinia curled up in the chair, whimpering. "She's crying. What did you say to her?"

Immediately, Xena felt the need to guard herself. "You assume it is something I said?" she spat.

"You were the only one speaking to her. She's really upset. It's obviously something that you said," the blonde continued, noticeably irritating her counterpart. "Your exchange with others isn't always so kind, you know."

"Why is everyone always blaming me for everything? I am not the cause of everyone's suffering."

Gabrielle sighed, walked forward, and grabbed the ruler's hand. It was like holding a ball of knotted twine. Her fingers were so stiff, her posture so rigid, and her eyes reminiscent of a marble statue. Oh, I see, Xena, you're angry.

"I'm not blaming you. I just want to know what's going on."

Xena inhaled through her nostrils then tapered her eyes.

Gabrielle arched an eyebrow. "We talked about this. I can't help you if you don't talk to me. I don't want any more secrets. There's a lot of strange things going on around here."

And I don't just mean between the both of us.

Whatever either one of them was doing wasn't working. Gabrielle cast a lopsided smile, firming her grip on Xena's hand. She led both of them to sit down close to the foyer and near the damn window. Gabrielle kept one eye on the window, waiting for Erva's return, and the other eye planted on Xena. These women, she thought, I must watch their every move.

"Let's play a game."

Xena's hand returned to its rigid state. "What."

Gabrielle ran to her bedroom, which was on the first floor. One of the lucky moments of having a room nearby. She hurried back with a roll of parchment, ink, and two pens. She sat on the sofa opposite Xena and handed her a quill.

Xena eyed the pen as if it were some dangerous weapon, ready to prick her finger. She grabbed the quill and watched Gabrielle roll out the large piece of parchment. Before she could blink, Gabrielle had drawn out an entire map of all the land she owned. This wasn't a game. This was her life, and she wasn't liking where this was going.

"Let's map out everything we've discovered so far, right down to this very villa." Gabrielle encouraged her counterpart to use the quill. "You can go first. Let's start with Eylül. We have enough information about her, and Varinia told me a few things."

Minor hesitation from Xena caused her to withdraw and set down the quill. She was no longer interested in this so-called 'game.'

"You can write. I taught you how to write a little bit, Xena."

"What is the point of this? I know my territories very well. I'm the one who founded them."

Gabrielle stifled a laugh, scratching her head. "Yes, but if we map everything out, it might make more sense. Pick up the quill, come on."

Slowly, the quill was taken up, and Xena leaned forward, gawking at the inked map. She didn't know where to start. Perhaps Gabrielle was right. This entire thing was a disaster and was probably the cause of all her nerves rising to the surface and blowing up at people. She thought of Varinia and looked over her shoulder, staring into the dining room.

"We'll talk to her later," Gabrielle interrupted. "So, let's start with the Romans who have been trying to kill you. You know, the ones with the strange Latin phrase."

The steel-eyed conqueror gaped at the parchment, dipping the quill into the inkwell, and took in a deep breath—and held it.

"It's not going to bite you, Xena."

"You want me to write or not?"

"I do!"

"Then let me concentrate."

Erva spent all morning following the two soldiers, who were supposed to search for their superior. This had turned into a maniacal jest after a while. Erva thought perhaps that Demir and Tariq knew they were being followed with how many detours they took throughout the inner city. They were searching in the most obvious places.

Xena would never hide in plain sight. It was useless for her to keep an eye on these two imbeciles. She thought, by now, Xena would've returned to the villa. There was no way she could've been kidnapped. Gabrielle's suspicions about that were laughable. A smile crept up on Erva lips. It was too tempting to laugh, but she kept quiet.

She wasn't too far from the soldiers. She decided to go on foot to follow. Leaving her horse in a safe spot was always a risk, but halfway through the scouting, Demir and Tariq left their horses as well. They were being watched by one of Xena's soldiers in disguise as a civilian. Not unusual, Erva deduced.

Just a little while longer. Yes.

She kept a low profile, following the two young soldiers. Suddenly, they parted ways. She flipped the hood over her hair, and her head swished from left to right. Of course, Erva knew she couldn't follow both men at once.

Right, it is.

She followed Demir before, and he was passing off notes in the middle of the night. If she was lucky enough, he might be stupid enough to do the act again, and in broad daylight.

They walked a bit ways east of the city. It was a similar path, which she took the last time she followed Demir. She hid behind a tree and groaned.

Another message. Hidden in his pant pocket.

This time she wouldn't allow the message to slip between her fingers. It was in her grasp. Crouching down behind a tree, Erva pulled out a short knife tied to her belt. Coming in on her right, she drooped her shoulders, hiding in the brush. A man wearing a brown and burgundy cloak walked down the dirt path to meet with Demir.

She got down on all fours and clamped her teeth down on the blade as she crawled closer to the two men. She grabbed her leather gloves hidden in her boot and quickly slipped them on. She was near but too far to listen to the conversation.

Demir said his goodbyes and left the area. You aren't a man of many words, are you?

Erva took the knife out of her mouth and slowly rose to her feet, stalking closer to the messenger. Demir wasn't the main course on her plate any longer. He was a mere appetizer. This one—this messenger—was the main course—the roasted—

"Pig."

She ran forward and wrapped her hand around the man's mouth. With muffled screams and wiggling limbs, he tried to break free. Erva dragged him into the brush and rammed his backside against a tree. He slid down the trunk of the tree, tearing bits of bark off with his hefty cloak.

Slightly dizzy, his vision blurred, but he quickly realized his life was threatened. There was a blade pointed to the center of his throat. Once his eyes focused, he looked beneath the dark hood, fixating on a dark-eyed woman.

Erva pinched his wrist, and the parchment fell out of his clenched palm. She snatched it before he could get a chance to. Straddling her legs around the man, she pressed the blade to his sweating flesh.

"What is this?" she whispered, waving the piece of parchment in his face. "Do not scream, or I'll skin you. Piece by piece."

The blond man smirked. "Very unusual to find a woman with a sword…straddled on me."

Erva raised an eyebrow, cursed in her native language, then dug her nails into his short hair, rearing his head backward.

"What is this?"

"I think you can read it for yourself, lady."

She dug her finger into his mouth and inched close to his face. Their noses almost touched, and she felt his hot breath against the rim of her upper lip. Sneering, she scraped her nail along his top gums.

"I don't need to. Where is this message being sent to?"

"If I tell you…but what will I get in exchange?" he smiled.

Erva twisted her mouth in disgust and shoved his head against the tree. "You must have the brain the size of a walnut if you think I'm going to allow your tongue in my mouth."

"Then let me be on my way."

He tried to get up, and she stomped her boot onto his chest. "How about I cut that tongue out? It moves far too much."

The blade gently grazed his cheek and drew blood at the corner of his mouth.

"I'll ask again, where is this message being sent to? I don't care about the content of it."

He swallowed, eyeing the sharp weapon cautiously. "Rome…it's being sent to Rome."

"Who's receiving this? Augusta Sabina?"

He bit his tongue, fearful that it could be sliced in an instant. Erva growled, pressing the tip of the blade into the corner of his mouth.

Hissing, she whispered, "who?"

"I—I don't know!" his voice trembled. "I send it—I send it to a ship merchant. It reaches Rome, and I don't—I don't know who receives the messages."

The blade dug into his skin, and Erva grinned, watching the pitiful messenger squirm and mumble prayers beneath his breath.

"Are you a Roman too?"

He nodded his head profusely.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" her voice soft and calm as she retracted the knife.

She stood, releasing the said-Roman. As he was slowly getting to his feet, he raised his hands to surrender.

"How often do you expect a new message?"

"Um, usually…once a week," he rubbed his throat. "Will you let me go now?" he asked.

Erva wiped her blade on her clothing. "Not yet. You're going to show me which ship merchant you send messages to."

"That's half a day's walk from here!"

"I have a horse," she smiled.

A sense of pride swelled within as she watched Xena write on her own with minimal assistance. It was one of the moments she'd probably replay in her mind for days, probably months. She wasn't sure how Xena felt about all of this. It wasn't a game, but a test to see if Xena would play along—and she did.

After Xena got over the initial embarrassment of her lack of penmanship, the 'game' became more effortless. She could also see why Gabrielle was so confused. This whole parchment was marked with several names and many locations—so many enemies. Xena didn't care to see so many enemies spread across this map. There were too many who wished her dead and too few who wished her alive.

Xena set down the quill, finally finished writing the names of people on her list. She made eye contact with Gabrielle and brushed a few strands of hair stuck to her cheeks.

"What are you thinking right now?" asked Gabrielle.

"Everyone hates me."

"That's a little bit of a stretch, isn't it?"

Xena gave a knowing look. "This map says it all: the Bastillia clan, every Roman citizen alive, Nero, Sabina…" she trailed off, almost adding her own son's name to that list.

Her head hung, and she wiped her nose, avoiding eye contact.

Gabrielle reached over, cupping the conqueror's knee. "I don't hate you."

"You're…only one person, Gabrielle."

"And so are you."

Lifting her head, exposing her teary eyes, she could see how sincere Gabrielle was. But why was it so hard? One person. I am one person, Xena thought. But it's not enough.

Sliding her hand off Xena's knee, she added, "do you even know what your people think about you—what kind of ruler you are?"

There was a long pause until Xena slowly shook her head.

"You're a mystery to everyone. You hide in plain sight. Look at you, you're in the inner city, and nobody has a clue!" Gabrielle beamed. "Yet, you trust a few of your soldiers to see your face and where you live."

"I have to trust some people…"

Gabrielle nodded, coiling her hands in her lap. She whipped her head around to the sound of horses trotting in. She gave a brief smile then walked to the window. Demir and Tariq were back from their little search, and Erva was still gone. She knew that the soldiers were unaware of Erva spying on them, but she expected to see her riding in behind them.

Maybe she will come back at a later time so suspicion wouldn't rise. Still, Gabrielle didn't trust those two, despite what Xena just said. The irony of it all and Xena lacked self-awareness. Xena was only so transparent to carefully chosen people. She'd like to think she was one of those carefully selected people. She knew too much about Xena now.

Demir walked into the villa, and his eyes grew when he saw Xena sitting on the sofa. She frowned, rising from her seat, and Demir lowered his head, breathing deeply.

"We were worried something might have happened to you," he said, eyes diverting to Gabrielle standing by the window.

"As you can see, I'm fine," Xena folded her arms. "Where's Erva?"

Demir crinkled his eyebrows, "I—"

"She's by the Bastillia home, gathering information since we left early," Gabrielle interrupted, receiving a glare from the conqueror. "She stepped out a while ago," she flashed a confident smile. "She'll be back later."

Xena glared at her with a furrowed eyebrow, then waved her hand, dismissing the young soldier. Demir hurried out of the villa. Now they were alone. Xena closed the door, locked it, and turned around, zeroing in on the blonde artist.

"You lied."

Gabrielle's smile faded. "I don't trust them, and neither does Erva. She followed them, but I thought she would've been back by now."

Xena's stance relaxed, and she waltzed across the room. "What do you mean Erva doesn't trust them? This is the first time I'm hearing this."

"She…just said she doesn't trust them. She didn't give a reason why."

"Hmm," Xena leaned over, towering over the artist. "You came up with that lie very quickly."

Distracted, she spotted Varinia in the middle of the dining room doorway. The poor girl went through several hoops to get here, and Xena just dismissed her. Sighing, Xena excused herself, gently bumping her shoulder to Gabrielle's arm.

"You should go upstairs and rest," she whispered, holding Varinia's hands.

Varinia wiped her cheek, staring at the stairs. "What about Eylül? She—she will wonder where I am."

"Don't worry about her. I will handle her."

Varinia sighed.

"You shouldn't have come here, you know," said Xena. "You didn't tell Evander you were leaving. I sent people to look for you."

"He doesn't even care anyway!" she shouted, sparking Gabrielle's attention from afar. "He always leaves me by myself!"

To not cause alarm, Xena took the frazzled woman by the arm gingerly and walked her over to the staircase. She urged her to go upstairs, but Varinia almost refused, mildly resisting.

"I don't think that's true. He cares about you," she whispered.

Varinia huffed, "he's not good at showing it. I've felt so ignored since we got to Abydos."

Another act of blame to add to her list, Xena thought. She couldn't and wouldn't control her son. She didn't feel she had that right. She could no longer parent him, and when she was a parent to him, he could barely utter a full sentence. Xena sensed that her son was shutting off his feelings towards Varinia, and she felt partial to blame for that.

"Listen, I know he cares for you," she whispered, gripping Varinia's hand. "He didn't want to leave Rome without you."

Gradually, Varinia's lips curled upward, "really?'

Xena wore a warm smile, "really. Go rest for a while. I'm sure you're tired."

Off by the window, Gabrielle lurked, impatiently waiting for Erva. She never thought she would be worried about Erva, but she was. That woman sure wasn't in her favor, but Erva was important to Xena, nevertheless. While she looked out the window, she saw several citizens walking around the area. Most were women. They were probably heading back from the market, she thought. These Edirne citizens loved to shop, apparently.

A hand grasped her shoulder, and she inhaled.

"Did I scare you?"

Gabrielle turned and said in a joking manner, "you do that a lot. I think you enjoy it."

Xena tried to hide her amused expression. "You're the last person I'd want to inflict fear on." Though she already had, she thought. The smile painted on her lips disappeared.

As if reading her thoughts, Gabrielle knew to change the subject. Nothing good would come of it if she pried by picking Xena's brain. Turning back to look out the window, Gabrielle tilted her head with a curious grin.

"While we were working on the map, I was doing some thinking."

"Aren't you always," Xena mumbled.

Gabrielle licked her lips, arching an eyebrow, and said, "what was that?"

Xena faltered and cleared her throat, "what were you thinking?"

"I think you should go outside—into the market." She spun around with the brightest of smiles, only to witness the dismay in the conqueror's eyes. "You and me."

Balling her fists, Xena spat, "you'll be putting a huge target on my back! People are trying to kill me!"

"Think about it, only a select few know what you look like," she grabbed the clenched fists, holding them tightly. "Erva was almost killed at that party. I think whoever is trying to kill you believes Erva is you."

The clenched fists relaxed their muscles, opened slowly, and Gabrielle intertwined their fingers. She refused to break eye contact.

"Even Eylül believes it."

"But…an arrow was shot at me at my villa."

Gabrielle shrugged, "who knows how close that person was? They could've mistaken you for Erva. She's the one who goes outside. Everyone knows who she is. They know her face. The people don't know you."

It was then, Xena realized, her fingers were laced. Had she become so distracted that she didn't even notice the smallest, yet the largest, details around her? Somehow, she didn't try to wriggle her fingers away, only to cause her palms to sweat.

"I…what is the point? Why go outside?"

"Xena," she stepped closer, "you aren't even the least bit curious to know what your people think of you? You can't hide forever. Plus, if my theory is right, nobody will even bat an eye towards you!"

Shaking her head, the warrior alleged, "I can't."

"You can. I'll be by your side the entire time."

Erva wasn't going to let this Roman out of her sight. She forcefully threw him on the horse, and they made the trek towards the port. She figured he was too cowardly to try and escape. The journey was less than half a day, but it did take a few hours to get to their destination. Once at the port, Erva flipped the hood over her head and hopped off her horse.

She tied her horse to a tree and grabbed the Roman's arm, pulling him off her steed. She took the note out of her cloak pocket, and after many hours, she finally read it.

"The deal is done. Next step."

Erva grunted, disappointed at the vague message. She didn't have time to continue questioning this man about the hidden meaning of this note. He was to remain alive only to serve her a better purpose—figuring out just what secrets lie in Edirne.

They walked to the docks, and Erva pulled her knife on him. She pointed the tip into his back and whispered in his ear, "which one is he?"

The Roman nervously but quickly scanned the docks and found the merchant. He pointed north, at the last ship on the docks.

She shoved him forward, "give the message to him."

Beads of sweat dripped down his forehead. "You…you'll let me go after this?"

"After you deliver the note."

This was a mistake. She didn't want to be here, out in the open. It was a different scene when she was at the party because she could hide behind a mask. But out here, she couldn't hide, yet all she did was hide.

She'd never felt so afraid until now. She could count on her hand how many times she was terrified. There was one positive outcome that came from this excursion. Gabrielle was here, by her side, like she said she would be. They walked through the busy market streets, coming close to the shop where all the artists were.

Everything was so familiar yet so foreign to her. Xena felt like she didn't know her own city. Gabrielle suggested not to wear any extravagant clothing. Agreeing with her, Xena didn't wear any flashy clothes, especially the dress she wore to the Bastillia manor.

They came closer to the market's food area, and Xena looked around herself, feeling invisible once more. People brushed by her, bumped her shoulder, and refused to make eye contact with her. Some looked her way, but most people didn't acknowledge her. It was refreshing and saddening all in one.

Gabrielle grabbed the conqueror's hand, pulling her to a fruit stand. She looked up, smiling, and picked up a ripe fig.

"I know you like fruit."

Xena gently smiled, took the fig. She tore it in half and took a small bite.

Turning to the merchant, Gabrielle asked, "how is business? Do you sell a lot of fruit?"

"Sometimes," he sighed. "I don't have enough to make it through the week at times. I even considered trading with the Romans, but…it is forbidden."

Xena looked away, finding the sweet fruit turn sour in her mouth at the mention of Romans.

"Selling fruit doesn't keep a roof over your head?" Gabrielle asked, turning to see the obvious scowl on Xena's face.

"The taxes are too high in Edirne!" he threw his hands in the air. "All the merchants would agree with me."

Gabrielle paused, her heart palpitating rapidly. She took in a deep breath, bracing any consequences she might face.

"Would you say…the Edirne Conqueror…taxes merchants too much?" she asked, then felt the burning eyes upon her from behind.

The merchant nodded. "She does not show her face, but she has no problem taxing us to death."

"Hmm. Maybe you should write a letter to complain. She might listen," her eyes turned upward, staring at the fuming blue eyes glaring at her.

"I doubt she would. I can't trust someone I've never seen the face of."

Gabrielle half-smiled. "Maybe you could encourage the other merchants to write a complaint. If the Conqueror doesn't know you all feel, the problem will never be addressed."

They left the vendor, or more like, Gabrielle hurried away in order to get away from the harsh stare. Xena didn't bother to finish the fig and was ready to throw it on the ground. She stared at the fig, then at the golden hair ahead of her. She decided to hold onto the fruit instead of tossing it aside. It wasn't the fruit's fault, after all.

Gabrielle looked back and waited for her 'guest' to catch up with her. The scowl was less prevalent, but there was still a hint of aggravation. Xena made short strides across the street, and then two small children ran right in front of her, dropping a few apples hidden in the boy's shirt.

The boy gazed up at her, while the other small child, likely his friend or brother, yelled at him to hurry. He gasped, gathering the apples to place in the man-made pouch that which was his tunic.

Xena raised an eyebrow and knelt down on one knee, helping the boy gather the apples. She placed them in his hand.

"Come on!" the taller boy yelled from afar.

He stood up, took off running down the street, and called back, "thanks!"

Gabrielle chuckled and made her way over. Xena was still staring at the boys running down the street together, continuing to run into others' paths.

"Do they remind you of your son?" she asked.

Xena swiftly turned around, not quite sure if she heard that correctly. "W-hat?"

"Your son. You told me he was taken from you. Do those boys remind you of him?"

"Hard to say. He was very young when I last saw him."

Gabrielle lowered her eyes, and grazed her fingers along Xena's arm, then grabbed her wrist. "We can keep looking around. Nothing bad has happened so far," she whispered.

A couple of hours of exploring exhausted them both, and they returned to the villa. Gabrielle was sure that Xena was more exhausted than both of them combined. It was overwhelming to see how Xena reacted to being around large crowds of people. It was as if she was locked away in a tower and hadn't seen humans for a while. Probably a stretch, thought Gabrielle, but it was too close to the truth.

She wondered if Xena felt the same way while living in Rome. She wanted to ask, but at the same time, she wasn't quite sure if she wanted to dig herself in that hole just yet. It was a huge step to get Xena to leave the villa, let alone go outside. She was initially shocked to hear that Xena went to the Bastillia home.

But that was different. Xena was spying. Was it different? Gabrielle didn't know, but she wasn't ready to ask Xena that question. By the look on the conqueror's face, she was too tired to speak. Their walk back to the villa was quiet, and Xena didn't say much.

Together, in the bedroom, Gabrielle closed the door. She checked on Varinia, and luckily, she was sleeping. Hopefully, she would sleep a little while longer. She turned around to see Xena taking off her cloak and then sat down to take off her boots.

"You must be tired. You haven't slept in almost two days."

Xena lifted her eyes briefly while unlacing her boots. "Quite the opposite, actually. I don't sleep very much."

"I noticed," Gabrielle chuckled awkwardly. "So, a lot of people had a lot to say about you. Mainly, they said they didn't trust you because they don't know you."

"I heard. I was there."

Gabrielle shifted her weight, "and you weren't in danger. Nobody noticed you."

Xena frowned, lifting her head, and slipped off her boots.

"I didn't mean it like that," she tried to correct herself, biting her lower lip. "I…um, I'll let you get some sleep."

"Gabrielle." She rose from the bed, waltzed across the room, and stood a foot away. "Thank you," she smiled, "for today. I'll admit it wasn't easy…to hear people talk about me."

Nodding her head, unable to utter a word, Gabrielle had intent to leave the room, but her arm was firmly gripped. She stood, parting her lips, and gawked at the warm blue eyes. Warmth, softness, yet stern all wrapped in one.

Heat rose from Gabrielle's core to her chest. Xena's lips were inching closer, so close that her heart, she swore, stopped. The smell of her was hypnotic beyond belief. She felt the need to run, but her knees were locked, her elbows tight, and her lungs constricted—she couldn't move. Her lips parted, and she lifted her chin to meet the inviting mouth above hers. A wave of warmth washed over, her fingers curled, unfurling all her senses.

Inhaling a soft breath, she felt the lips against hers curl into a smile. The taste of the sweet fruit from hours earlier lingered. And as she expected more, her lips went cold. Fluttering her eyes, she looked above to Xena, whose cheeks tinted rose, and eyes sparkled with enormous warmth.

How long had that lasted? Her body tingled, her lips pulsated, but they were cold—missing something. She made the bold move to get closer to Xena, sliding fingers down her arms. They were strong yet soft. Pressing their cores together, the feel of their bodies leaning into one another, arms wrapped around one, but not the other, felt forbidden. Taken by surprise, it wasn't her to make the second move. She had already made the first by moving forward. Pulling her in, Xena leaned downward and claimed her mouth once again. More intense than before, hungrier than before, yet it was expected. She felt the smile of her lips against hers, the throaty gasp, the radiating breath entering her mouth.

By the time she was unaware of what was happening, Gabrielle's felt fingers grazing her shoulder blade, sending shivers up her spine. Flesh to flesh. Had she really been so unaware that Xena's fingers slipped their way underneath the fabric? Was she supposed to reciprocate? The inner turmoil of how to proceed, she felt her knees begin to buckle, so she gripped Xena's arms tightly.

Trying to remain in the moment, Gabrielle's blurred vision focused on the dark veil of hair shielding them both from outside interferences. Staring at the wound on Xena's chest, she felt a stare from up above. Lifting her chin slightly, their eyes met, guarded by the veil of dark hair, and they shared a smile.

Time halted in a collision of senses when their lips met for that second time. Gabrielle grazed her fingers on the rough patch of skin where the healing wound was. Opening her mouth to speak, Xena's palm cupped her cheek, a thumb stroking her jaw.

She was the one who liked to talk. Xena was the one who didn't like to talk. But now, she found she wouldn't be able to say a word, even if she tried to choke it out. It was small—the kiss—but the rippling effects hadn't yet caught up to her. Staring into the blue eyes a few inches above, she saw Xena's mouth moving.

She was talking. She's saying something to me. What is she saying?

Gabrielle blinked, suddenly aware she had a bad case of cottonmouth. Her heartbeat was the only sound she could hear, ringing in her ears like a horse stampeding through a large field. There was no horror here, no cold warrior here.

"Your heart is racing," Xena whispered, feeling the thumps against her own chest. "Are you alright?"

"I…" she swallowed. "I'm alright," she finally managed to say as beads of sweat encircled her neck and back.

That warm smile returned, glistening in the darkness which surrounded them.

"Would you like to stay?"

Stay, thought Gabrielle. Stay here? In this room? Her eyes lingered on the bed. In that bed? Her mouth parted once more, and it was then, Xena's expression changed.

"I won't force you to stay, Gabrielle. As I said, you are free to leave at any time."

Read between the lines. Xena, you don't mean what you say.