XENA: WARRIOR PRINCESS

“The Hunger Of A Woman”

An Original Xena Story

ÑÓ1996 by Patricia L. Ennis

Jadzia7627@aol.com

July 1997

Another glass of wine...and then maybe I can sleep.

It's so hard now, now that things are different. I use to know right where she'd be, at my elbow, or no further than an arm away. Even when we parted for days, I knew she'd always come back.

Now...I don't know. It's like there's something new in her eyes, something I've never seen there before. Something...that belongs to a woman.

Why is it there? It has no place in that deep sky blue! It doesn't fit with who she is. Or who she used to be.

Another sigh, another glass...my head is a little unclear, and yet I still see the differences between who she was and who she has become. Now, when men look at her, there is no blush, no clumsiness or loss of breath. Now she smiles back at them, and holds their eyes until they stand. Only then does she look away.

I think she's broken every heart in this tavern...and mine is no exception.

She does turn her smile my way quite often, and I feel my heart jump in my chest. Somehow, I know this is how she used to feel, before Perdicus, before things stopped making sense.

I always thought there would be more time. I could wait, she would never go. But she has, and she will again, unless I give her reason to stay.

How can I, really? I have nothing to offer. A lifetime of wandering, no town could hold me. No countryside that wouldn't become the bars of a cage, given time enough to hate them. So if I went to her, what could I hold out? What could I ask her to share?

All I have is my love...and that will never be enough.

My love would keep her warm at night, but could not keep her safe. It could not heal me from a sword, or her from an arrow. It would be more likely to cause her death, than save her in this life.

No. I have nothing but a burning ache that's settled in my chest. I've nothing but the trembling hands that try to hold my glass. I've nothing but my closed, sad eyes that dream of fair, smooth skin. None of these could hold her heart, none could hold her soul.

I open my eyes to see her smile, right there, less than an arm's length away. That thing is there, within her eyes, the hunger of a woman. But it cannot be for me...

"Xena?" Her voice is like honey on my tongue, like snowflakes in my hair. "Are you all right?"

A nod is all I trust from myself, something curt, short and severe. But she does not look away.

If anything, her eyes shine brighter, as though experience has brought her wisdom as well. As though she can see through everything I have wrapped around my heart, and veiled across my eyes.

Her gaze becomes uncomfortable, the heat and fire show in my cheeks and eyes. I try to look away and find that I cannot. The thing that has no place in her, has taken part of my soul. The only part I still had left, Gabrielle already had the rest.

She lifts the bottle from the bar, drinking quickly from it's mouth. Her quick smile does not hide her distaste, and in that, I see that some of her is still there.

The humor is there, and so is the warmth. The compassion that has held me for so long, still burns within her breast. The child is still there, in her eyes and mouth, nothing new except the fire.

My eyes dart upwards to check again and yet it is still there. A fire raging through her eyes, through her lips and into her hands, so warm against my arm. A fire I have never seen for anyone, before this very moment.

She looks away and then back again, her gaze barely touching the top of my bodice and my heart quickens in her heat.

This is not the look I am used to receiving, this is not the look of a child.

I looked deep into her eyes...and saw a woman looking back at me.

She pours me another glass of wine and hands the bottle back to the 'keep. A dinar laid against the counter as she tugs against my arm.

"Let's go." She whispers, her voice too low, too husky to mean sleep.

I drop my jaw and follow her, all eyes of envy on my back. The stairs too steep but she helps me up, smiling when I stumble.

How to tell her it wasn't the wine, that intoxicates my heart? How to tell her she isn't safe, anywhere near me tonight?

She locks the door behind us both and I begin to speak, but her fingers are there to cover my lips and the words freeze in my throat.

With fumbling grace she unhooks her top, throwing it to the side, before reaching her hands, so warm and trembling, to the hooks upon my armor. With it gone, against the floor, she reaches around to the laces behind, in doing so her breasts brush mine and I shudder against her skin.

"That's what I thought." Her whisper's low, her lips low on my neck. "I knew it couldn't just be me."

Her words...my salvation.

With hands still shaking from the cold, a reason so untrue, I touch her face...so calmly warm, I kiss her eyes, so wanting still, and know that this is my destiny.

To lie within her arms.