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Disclaimers:Xena and Gabrielle are owned and battery operated by MCA/Universal/Renaissance and come with a lifetime gaurentee. This little bit of something or other, is for pure entertainment purposes only.
Read the Label~Violence? Nope. Bad naughty words? Not this time. Fun? Well..err..yeah. If you got a major problem with two women in love, I suggest you leave.
Fine Print~This story is part of a little series I'm calling "Apparitions of Love". "Vision" and "Daydream" were the first two I wrote, but any of these can be read out of order. They're just very short pieces that have a certain "theme" to them. (I really don't know what to call them. They aren't stories after all, more like poems really.)
She's an illusion. An apparition of heated air in the dark night, shimmering and tantalizing the eye. She sits talking with the Amazons that surround both of us, laughing and joking with them comfortably.
Yet another feast. Yet another farewell we must make to these women that have taken us both in like family. A home we could have here if we wish and sometimes we're tempted to accept. To leave the road, the constant traveling. We fight so hard to drive off raiders from town after town, only to have another group come and raze it to the ground after we leave. It weights heavy on us both.
I'd rather see her as she is now, not road weary, but a self-assured woman holding her own, the golden red firelight casting her in an almost surreal glow. She becomes more than real to me, more capable, more magical. Her face alive, animated as she talks to her companions. Seeing her like this, lifts all the weight from my shoulders and fills my soul.
Her hair, a radiant crown, taking in the flickering glow of the bonfire like a spark to tinder and gleaming with a fire all its own. She is elemental. Primal fire, whose very sight burns through my veins. The pain of her, leaving me no choice but to look on, for she feeds me at the same time. My eyes don't blink, I just stare, hypnotized by her.
One of my own companions tries to get my attention and she teases me knowingly when I finally look her way. I guess we are a sight, like two lovesick youngsters at times, and no matter how I blush and glare, I'd change nothing.
I try and pay close attention to the conversation around me, but even though she's across the clearing from me, separated by the bonfire and Amazons, her presence is too much for me to bear and I excuse myself.
I lean against a hut's pillar, my tankard refilled, and let the shadows embrace me. Here in the darkness I'm able to watch unobserved and I'd rather have it this way. The object of my heart the only thing I see. She's surrounded by countless beautiful women, but to me there is only her. No beauty matches hers. No soul calls to me like her own.
Entranced, I quench my sudden thirst by draining my mug, the fiery Amazon wine cold compared to the heat the sight of her burns within me. Then my mouth is dry again as she turns, scanning the celebration for me. At least I hope it's for me. She frowns slightly when she doesn't find what she's looking for and starts to excuse herself. But before she can disappear, the drums start to beat, a low booming sound that vibrates in time with my heart, and she is coaxed into the circle of dancers.
This force of nature that is my beloved, this woman of my heart, joins in the mass of whirling, swaying figures as if she has always belonged there. Around the fire the Amazons and my soul circle like dryads around an oak. The beat, ancient as the heart of the world, driving them, letting them abandon their cares and woes, each casting off the cloak of humanity and becoming Elementals of fire, praying, worshipping as their idol casts flickering light upon their twisting bodies. But even among the mass of dancers, she outshines all the Amazons and the flames themselves. Leaping fingers of fire hold no heat compared to her. Sensuous is her dance, more hypnotizing than the flames, entrapping my eyes. Muscles ripple, tanned flesh stretches and tantalizes as she caresses the air with waving arms and gesturing hands. Her hips sway in time both to the drums and an inner rhythm that only she and I can hear.
I am faint, dizzy with the sight and thought of her. Fingers suddenly nerveless, drop my empty cup, but I barely register it. I need balance, but my legs are trembling violently. Blindly, my eyes still riveted on her dance, I reach behind me and grasp the wooden pillar with my hands, bracing myself. I hardly feel the hard wood against my back and under my clenched fingers, as all my senses are with her, dancing wildly around the central fire.
I've felt passion a hundred times, base and sublime, but the passion of this love I feel for her is the sweetest and the most torturous. To need so desperately, body and soul. To know, that without this other half of you, you are empty. Just a body living a life that means nothing. To desire so much, that you would do anything to bring happiness to your lover. For with her happiness your life is complete and full of joy. Yes, I've felt passion, but it is nothing beside this soul fulfilling ecstasy that is love. A glance from those gem colored eyes can drive me insane with desire. An accidental touch from her has driven me to my knees a time or two. It is this woman, her heart, her soul, her mind that has captured me entirely. I willingly stay caged, knowing that there is no danger and no safety as sweet.
So, with this apparition, the dancing goddess of fire, before my eyes, I am lost. Completely and forever. I am surely dying, drowning in this illusion, for this can't be real. Nothing so passionate as this creature of flame can be real.
I close my eyes against the sight. It's not real. Nothing is. This joy, this love I feel is not possible. Even the Goddess Aphrodite cannot understand this feeling. Illusion. It must be all illusion. She is only an illusion.
A hand, warm and callused, brushes against my arm. My eyes start to fly open, but a familiar whispering voice stops me. "No. Keep them closed. Please." The sound of her voice caresses me as softly as her hand, and I give in without a fight, my lashes fluttering closed before I can even register my surroundings.
How..how did she sneak up on me? Gods! I don't care! My mind is instead on that well-known hand as it slowly strokes down my arm, to sweep lightly over my clenched fingers.
"You're so tense." Her low voice sends a shiver up my spine.
I can only nod as my side suddenly feels the heat of her body as she steps closer to me, but not touching. I swallow painfully, thirsty for what I don't know. Ale? No. My tongue wishes something more sweet. Wine? No. Even water holds no desire for me. My mouth is dry, raging only for a drink that I cannot see, only feel the breath of against my shoulder.
I groan almost inaudibly as her hand comes back up to my shoulder, her fingers teasing my hot skin and pulling down one of the straps of my outfit.
"I could feel your eyes upon me all night." Her breath now washes over my ear as she leans closer. Still she doesn't touch me besides her exploring hand.
I start to speak her name, but it comes out unintelligible.
"Lost your tongue, my love?" She laughs softly as her hand moves tantalizing slow across my collarbone. The light pressure of her lips follow, seeking my pulse. I shiver involuntarily, goosebumps rising all over my body, but it isn't the cold but my lover who causes this.
Another chuckle and I smile, relieved that my reaction pleases her. I would do anything to make her happy. Anything.
All thoughts of dancing amazons and feasts have long fled my mind, and so when the words come to my ear I have no idea who speaks them, me or her.
"What is this I feel?
More painful than a sword's thrust
My chest afire with desire
The king's torturer has no skill
To surpass this agony
My limbs trembling with want
Beast's terrible claws
Have left no mark as deep
My skin quivers in anticipation
Poison's cloying taste
Has left no honey as sweet
My lips burn with need
The sun's bright rays
Can not blind me so
My eyes yearn for the sight
The depths of Tartarus
Hold no agony in comparison
My soul cries out in hunger
This fire in my veins
Burning through to my core
What is this I feel?"
The words fade and for a moment I'm confused. Were they mine? Hers? Were they spoken at all or were they a figment of my imagination. And what is the answer to those words? I knew it only moments ago, but it's been swept away in the burning tide that is my love for her. I can't think clearly.
Then even those questioning thoughts are erased from my mind as her body finally comes fully in contact with mine and her lips leave my neck, then descend again to brush against my mouth. So lightly is her sweet kiss, that I mistake it at first for the wind. Then her soft lips part and her tongue lightly sweeps against me.
My legs give out, all my strength gone at her touch, but she holds me up, supporting me against the stout pole. Her other hand touches down on my hip and squeezes softly, then starts to drift down.
My mind, what little of it that can concentrate, doesn't know where to pay attention. Her lips on mine. The urgent hand that I realize is now playing with my breast through the material that covers it. Her other hand that has drifted down my hip and is running teasing fingertips up and down my bared thigh. Her body stretched fully against mine, one of her legs between my own that's bracing us up, and pressing against me. Each one is killing me. I can't concentrate!
I struggle for breath through our kisses and try to focus, but nothing comes to me. This desire that's rushing through me for her is too painful. I want to run away, flee from this woman who has defeated me utterly. There is no way to win this fight for my very self. Perhaps the only way to win...to survive, is not to run, but to stay. But staying means my destruction at the hands...the lips...the desire of this goddess of fire. Her primal flame is burning me within and without. The heat of her skin white-hot against my own wherever we touch. My passion for her searing my heart until I fear I shall ignite in her arms, two beings of fire combining into one.
I don't care. Consume me!
I moan in surrender, knowing that this is not new for me. That I surrendered to her the first time we met. Two roads. Two lives. Two hearts. One soul consumed by love and desire.
Again her sweet tongue brushes against my lips seeking entry. My surrender complete, my lips part willingly and she dives in, her breath and mine mixing as our tongues slide and twist. Not against, but with each other. This is no contest, but a merging.
With a renewed sense of strength I press against her hands and leg, urging her on. I have found the drink I crave and there is nothing else I desire.
Two deep moans combine into one and she pulls away after what seems like an eternity. I can feel her smile for a heartbeat of time against my mouth and then she is gone.
The cold night air washes over me, the warmth of her body, her touch suddenly gone and missed immediately. I wait patiently, my eyes still closed, but she is no longer with me. Where is my love?
Opening my eyes, I scan for her among the crowd of befeathered warriors that still celebrate under Artemis' moon. It is only a moment to find her, but when I do my heart skips a beat and my breath catches.
She is dancing among them still. Her body slick with sweat, leaping and swaying like a wild. In shock, I turn my gaze from her and look at my surroundings, but there is no one near me. I'm alone in my shadowed corner.
Once again my limbs grow weak, but this time there is no stopping me from falling. My back against the pole, I slide down until I sit in the cool grass.
My lips still tingle with her kiss. My mouth still tastes of her, sweet and wild. My skin cries out for hers. But it wasn't real, for my lover is dancing, the drums beat still pulsing through her veins.
As the dance continues on, as I'm watching the heart of my heart, eyes the color of bright green fire, turn towards me, seeking me out in the night. They glitter with laughter.
Perhaps she truly is an illusion.
Like I said in the Disclaimers, I don't see these as stories, but more like exercises for me. I tend to follow where my muse leads me (For the most part. I ignore her when she comes up to my door wearing her Muse Scout uniform and selling cookies.) down the literary road. I may not always be pleased with what the gray matter in my head spews out, but I find that I have no choice. To be able to keep writing and not block ourselves, we must sometimes be slaves to our creativity (whether what comes out is good or bad is besides the point for the most part). I can honestly say, this particular enslavement to the Muses, in regards to this little series, has been fun in its own way. Also, although I do keep the identity of the who is who in these a "secret" until the end, it is really no secret. "Vision" was really the only one that was truly a secret until the end IMHO. The rest of them you should have been able to figure out from almost the beginning.
The poem included was written by me. It's called "Fire In My Veins" and was inspired (after a rather long hiatus of not writing any poetry) by MaryD's "The Power of One". It got me to listen to that poetic part of me that was screaming in my ear. Once I wrote the poem, "Illusion" was the natural progeny of it. Btw...for those of you who know me, any warm fuzzies you may feel from this piece are entirely illusionary also. *STOMP* Another tribble bites the dust!
Warlord in Training ~ Member of the Society of Warlords
Have Katiepult. Will sack Corinth for kicks.
"Bard? Where? I'm sorry, you're mistaken. The bard went thataway."
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