Xena Fan Fiction ❯ To Settle the Score ❯ Scars: Chapter Four ( Chapter 4 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

After eating her morning meal, Xena returned to her imperial suite. She discovered her slave girl standing in front of her bookshelf, remarkably entranced. Xena observed her as her eyes brightened with interest at each new title she read. She pulled out one book from the shelf and opened it up, her fingers turning the pages to an almost affectionate degree.

"Good afternoon, girl," Xena said simply to announce her presence, rather than in greeting.

Gabrielle turned to face her. "I was just admiring your collection of books. I didn't know you read Sophocles, empress."

"I don't."

"Oh, well," she laughed softly to herself and replaced the book on the shelf, "then perhaps it is Caesar with the good taste in art."

Xena was getting tired of their unimportant conversation. It was unlike her to take interest in such matters. She forced herself to return to her duty as empress and changed to a more crucial topic. "I want you to go to the healer," she interjected. "She'll bandage you up."

Gabrielle did not know what to say to her empress' hasty change in tone. "But empress, I'm not the least bit ill or injured. What use would bandages be?"

"Bandages can tell a story that is long lost on lips."

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

Again, Xena was in no mood for explanations. She ignored the girl's questioning. "I've noticed you often drop my tag when you are confused or upset. That is tolerable when we are alone, but mind that I will not be embarrassed by it when in the sight of others."

The slave girl suddenly tensed. "Yes… empress."

"Very good. Now go to the healer. I will send for you when I need you next."

A guard escorted Gabrielle to the healer’s hut. It was cozy, set off in an area all by itself, as if it was a sacred sanctuary sitting at the top of a turbulent hill, secluded from the terrors of the world. Though she could guess that during times of war, it was much less serene. It made her heart yearn for home.

Upon entering into the hut, she discovered it was empty and called out, “hello?”

No one answered her, but she was not disappointed; she was in no hurry to be bandaged up. Until her empress had dismissed her, she had not truly begun to understand how serious her empress was about the falsehood required in their relationship. She wondered: would she have to fake injury to the healer as well? She wished she had a few more bruises to help her case.

Gabrielle examined the room. It was decorated in a theme that was foreign to her, and therein intriguing. Hangings made of animal skins draped down the walls of the hut, stamped with tribal symbols crafted from twigs and animal bones. She picked up the more and pestle and fingered the crushed substance within it.

“I doubt you want to be touching that, girl, unless you want the tips of your fingers to smell like anise for weeks,” came what Gabrielle assumed to be the healer’s voice from behind her. “It’s a most unpleasant smell.”

Gabrielle rolled her eyes at the healer’s use of the word ‘girl’ and turned to face her. “My name is—”

“I don’t care to know your name, girl.”

"Gabrielle." Her irritation for the term grew too fierce to ignore, “—my name is Gabrielle.”

The healer frowned at the girl, her curly blonde locks offsetting her stern demeanor. "Until our empress agrees to refer to you by your given name, then neither will I. Is that understood?"

Gabrielle's eyebrows knit together slightly in thought. "How do you know what our empress calls me?"

"I know our empress doesn't like to get too personal with her slaves," the healer said and paused to examine the girl in front of her, then once affirmed, continued, "especially not with her handmaidens."

Gabrielle was puzzled as to how this healer could know so much about her in so little time. "How do you know that I'm her handmaiden?"

"Why else would a young slave girl be in my tent, with no physical ailment in sight?" the healer answered, seeming to make a deliberate attempt to make direct eye contact with the girl at all times. "It is obvious to me that you are not in complete understanding as to the world around you just yet, however, that does not lessen the hold our empress has over your life."

"Excuse me?"

The healer raised her eyebrows at Gabrielle’s contempt. "You would agree that the best answers are the ones we find ourselves, yes?"

Gabrielle was caught off-guard by the healer's sudden philosophy. "Yes."

The healer gathered her materials from around the room, mainly gauze, and set it beside the girl. She took the girl's arm in her gentle hands and began to wrap bandages around it. The healer’s wild mane of curly blonde hair hid the side of her face, but could not hide the lack of hesitation, bias, or doubt in her next words. "Behind the palace gates, I'd like to say that you're naiveté will be the death of you, girl, but in reality, it will be your thirst for knowledge that will get you killed."

The healer held Gabrielle’s eyes for a long moment. Her lips parted and she shook her head. The days events were finally setting in. First Caesar’s supposed mercy, Xena’s sudden mood swings from stern to sympathetic. To Ceasar, she was to be beaten, to be mistreated, to be rape, by some wicked woman known as the Empress of Rome. Yet, she was in the healer’s hut, bandages wrapping her uninjured flesh.

"Why are you telling me this?"

The healer’s jaw clenched visibly. "Do not try to solve every mystery that you encounter here, Gabrielle. I promise you will not like what you find."

"Ah, I see Ephiny served me well,” Xena’s voice greeted.

Gabrielle cringed. Each of her limbs was bandaged in some way. Her empress had called her back to her room to observe the results of her trip to the healer's hut. "Yes, served you quite well. Though I must ask if you would permit me to refer to her as the 'palace Egyptian' from now on based on her mummifying skills, empress."

Her empress smiled. "I doubt she would appreciate that."

"Like I appreciate her wrapping me up for the tomb?"

"There are worse fates."

Gabrielle knew her empress was entirely serious, and this instantly put her back into place.

"Which reminds me, girl," Xena began, "I must start preparing you for the festival."

Gabrielle worried as to how that was somehow linked with a 'worse fate.'

"But not today. At least, not now. First, I've brought you up a meal. You may stay in my chambers until Caesar returns tonight."

"You will not be returning?" she asked immediately.

"Not until long after Caesar is asleep. It may be days."

Gabrielle was suddenly extremely anxious, her gut gushing with the same worry she had experienced earlier in the day. Perhaps he was going to rape her after all. "Where should I go then, once Caesar returns?"

"Stay in the chambers to the left of these. They are my handmaiden's quarters."

“Najara, darling, isn’t this getting… well, for the lack of a witty phrase: a bit old?” Callisto leaned over the table at her partner, who ignored her. Callisto frowned. She reached across the table and accidentally grazed her nails over the fresh wound stretching down the side of Najara’s face, drawing the slightest dribble of blood to drain down her cheek.

This forced Najara’s retort. She let the blood continue to cascade down her cheek, but clasped Callisto’s hand in a tight hold.

“Sorry about that, darling.” Callisto waved her fingers around obnoxiously. “Careless.”

“I refuse to surrender another campaign, Callisto. I’m losing followers—”

“Because they’re all dying in this campaign,” Callisto sung under her breath.

Najara considered this and released her partner’s hand. “Perhaps you’re right.”

Callisto massaged her hand for a moment like a wounded cat, and then crawled around the short table to her lover’s side, stalking her prey. “Of course I am, dear,” she breathed into Najara’s ear, and then dragged her tongue down the side of her lover’s face, following the path the blood left in its wake. “There are other ways of getting what you… what we… want in this matter.” She kissed down her lover’s neck to her collarbone and spoke softly against her skin. “Wouldn’t you agree, love?” She felt her lover surrender to her physical tirade of kisses and knew the argument was hers. “I hear Rome has a slight slave problem…”

“Yes, and I have not discussed the matter with my advisors since the conference."

Brutus began speaking with such hesitancy that even the slow flow of the seasons would have moved passed him. "Caesar... you should know by now that if Egypt was willing to ally with Rome they would have done so already." He paused, and seeing that his words had no startled his emperor, continued, "I say we launch a full-fledged assault on the nearest Egyptian fleet."

Caesar paced to the windowpane and rested his glass against it. He set his gaze out the window for a moment, a lion on looking his pride from atop the highest mount, however with much less kinship wading in the pools of his eyes. "You act in too much haste, Brutus."

"You have a plan?"

Caesar allowed his pride, mixed with a fluid form of ease, to cascade into a response. "My empress requested to see to the matter herself."

"May I ask how she wishes to accomplish such a feat?"

"No, that is up to her. She is meeting with Cleopatra's advisors in Corsica."

The carelessness shown by his emperor startled the young commander. "Perhaps I should organize a backup league in case of Egyptian retaliation?"

"No, I would not degrade her to such a degree. There was a time when she threatened even my empire. Let's see if the Egyptians can handle her."

"Ah, Xena... Egypt has been long expecting such a visit," a warm voice welcomed Xena into the dimly lit chamber. "Or perhaps I should be calling you 'Empress'?"

Xena smiled at her old friend. "Cleopatra, I think you already know the answer to that."

Cleopatra smiled in return and elegantly treaded across the room to embrace her. "It's been a long time. How goes the campaign?"

The warrior princess accepted her embrace. "Just as planned, but Rome's been getting to my head lately. Your insurgents showed up just in time for me to make an easy exit."

"I was hoping they would draw you here." Cleopatra gently kissed her friend's cheek before continuing, "Egypt has missed you, dearly." She gently caressed the side of Xena's face. "May I ask how long I will be graced with your presence?"

Xena knew by the mischievous glint in Cleopatra's eyes that she had drunk a little too much wine before retiring. Xena caught Cleopatra’s hand in her own, massaging the back of it with her thumb, and ending it with a kiss."Not that long, I'm afraid."

"Oh, what a waste..." Cleopatra drawled and slowly removed herself, leaning back along the bed. Her blue satin gown clung to her in all the right places, and Xena did not hesitate to scan the scene. Her hard nipples outlined in the blue fabric were a particular favorite of hers. Yet, tonight something else weighed on her mind.
Cleopatra broke her from her thoughts, her hand trailing seductively along the curve from her breast to her hip. ”I know Caesar can't be sating you?"

Xena smirked but turned her gaze away. "No, not at all,” she muttered.

"Then stay with me tonight," her companion whine, resting her head against her hand. "I did come all the way to Corsica to see you."

The empress kept her gaze on the Eygptian’s eyes, which were outlined in a dark liner, bringing their stirring brown to light. "I have matters to attend to."

This forced Cleopatra to smirk. "Oh really?" She opened to her arms to Xena, beckoning her. "You're telling me that there are matters back in Rome more important than the one I am currently presenting to you?"

Xena complied, seating herself next to her friend. She leaned down and placed a kiss on Cleopatra's lips. "Unfortunately, yes."

Cleopatra ran her hands through Xena's hair. "Mm, tell me: who has beaten me out of the position?"

"It's not an issue of loyalty, my friend," she said. "It's just that I need to be back to Rome in a reasonable time. Caesar will suspect me if I—"

"My dear, you're talking to the one person in the Known World who you cannot lie to,” she whispered back in response. She kissed her cheek lovingly. “Talk to me."

Xena's jaw tightened, but she reluctantly answered, "I fear what Caesar will do to my handmaiden while I am away."

Cleopatra grinned. "Ah, so maybe I should be calling you 'empress'?"

"I'm afraid that would not change my mind."

"A handmaiden over a night with the Queen of Egypt?"

Xena let the idea set in. Cleopatra was right, this girl should mean nothing to her, and she was not willing to admit otherwise. She had a good point. "I'm acting foolish. I will stay."

Her companion wrapped her arms around Xena's neck and kissed her lips briefly. "No, you will go. I wouldn't want to be responsible for your beloved's harm," she joked.

Xena unraveled herself from her companion's embrace and sat up, annoyed. She had come here to escape such thoughts, not discuss them.

Cleopatra remained lying and ginned up at her friend. "Oh, you know I must tease you for this. It has been too long since you've acted this way."

"When would the last time I have acted this way been?"

"Toward me, of course," she said. "You used to be quite enamored with me if I recall correctly."

“… but this girl: she means nothing to me."

"Mm, I'm sure."

Xena knew what Cleopatra was implying. "I haven't touched her, and I don't plan on touching her."

"Oh, what a shame, she seems to have such a hold on you too. Tell me then, what is this girl's name?"

Xena paused in thought and recalled her first encounter with the girl. She pictured her handmaiden’s tattered clothes, the defeat in her eyes as she stared up at her, not even able to speak her own name.

"I don't know."

Cleopatra laughed. "You don't know? You mean to tell me that there is a girl back in Rome that you would choose over the Queen of Egypt, and you do not even know her name?"

"I do not like to get too close to my slaves."

Cleopatra nearly burst out laughing. "I think you've already failed there."

"Perhaps I should go," Xena said, moving to stand.

Cleopatra sat up and pressed her hand to her thigh. "I don't want you to go."

"I don't want to stay,” Xena breathed, locking eyes with the queen.

The Queen of Egypt removed her hand. Her wide eyes said everything Xena did not want to believe. "I see."

"Send more insurgents when you wish to see me again,” Xena commanded as she paced to the door.

"They will be at your doorstep by tomorrow then."

"Perhaps when you need to see me again?"

"Yes, but be sure to bring the girl with you the next time. I would like to lay my eyes on her; I know she must be divine."

Again Xena recalled the girl in her mind’s eye. The vision of a young woman at the command of Caesar, as she once had been. Only the girl was even more naïve. "She is no more than a blonde rag-doll."

"Then her mind must be all the more precious as to tempt you."

Xena was silent as she exited. She had battled the issue over in her head for far too many days to argue any more with her friend, for she feared exploding. It was not a conversation worth having.