Just a Story

by Callisto Wolf

Disclaimer: This is a Uber Story. Xena and Gabrielle do not belong to me. They belong to MCA/Universal and Renaissance Pictures. I am not claiming that they are mine. Iím just borrowing their likeness.

Violence disclaimer: Very slight, nothing graphic.

Love/Sex disclaimer: This story depicts a relationship between two women. One the master, the other a slave. There is not graphic sex in this story. There is sex, but it is very mild.


As I look out over the bluff, I spot an out of place shape among the waves. Thereís a body in the water. Rushing down to the shore, I wade out and haul the person to shore. After revitalizing them I realize that I have just saved a beautiful young woman like the heroes of old. But unlike the stories of old, this scenario will not end with happily ever after. For now I own her.

The girl has golden shoulder length hair, small facial features. She was considered by most to be of beauty. I myself found her to be fascinating and most beautiful. I had brought her back to my dwelling area. She lay there now, sleeping, her hand splinted and bandaged. Her fight against the ocean must have exhausted her. I wondered where she had come from. Her clothing was made of a strange material that I had never seen before. I decided to allow her sleep, then I would find the answers to my questions.

Her eyes opened to reveal a sea of green. I was stunned completely by their beauty. All my training couldnít have stopped me from reacting this way. A warrior was not permitted open displays of emotion. I ignored my training as I reached out towards her. She pulled back from my touch. I yanked her to me by the front of her blouse, glaring deeply into her startled eyes. I was a Noble; no one was allowed to disobey me. Iím a Noble.

She seemed to understand her mistake. I released her, demanding that she tell me from where she has come. I repeated myself several times, but all she did was make gestures with her unhurt hand. Anger started to rise before me. Then it dawned on me, she was mute. What was I to do with a mute slave? But as I thought this I knew that the title of slave would be something she would not be. What if this was the woman the oracles had told me about. Would she break the ice from around my heart?

I looked at her again with calmer eyes. I didnít want her frightened. I studied her more closely; she was attractive by most standards. She had a small build, athletic looking. I stood back from her, claiming my full height and proclaimed that I was a Noble, one to be obeyed. I pointed to her, telling her she was to obey me, that she was a slave. "I own you." I said sternly. All through my speech she sat unmoving, unemotional, still. I praised her for not interrupting and for accepting all of what had happened as well. But I still hadnít been answered.

I became frustrated in the hours that passed. No matter what I tried, I could not understand her. Her hand gestures confused me. I grew violent with her, pushing her around, yelling at her. She just fell to the floor crying and repeating the same gesture. I needed council. I went to a fellow Nobles dwelling and told her all that had happened. She advised me to bring the slave to see the oracle.

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I told my slave that today she was to see the oracle. An honor usually only allowed of Nobles. She did not seem fazed by this, and an itch of anger began to tickle up my spine. Swallowing it, we proceeded to the caverns the oracles dwelled in. It baffled us Nobles why the oracles didnít accept our offers to build them a great, impressive palace. This fact seemed even to confuse my worldly slave.

I was not permitted admittance while my slave saw the wise one. I wanted to demand they let me in. Scream at them that I was a Noble. It was my right to be obeyed. Yet I sit quietly, waiting for my slave to emerge. The wise one that waits with me looks at me with concern, as my fidgeting grows very noticeable. After what seems to me to be hours, my blond slave comes out, followed by the oracle, a brilliant smile on her lovely face.

The oracle beckons to me and I willingly obey. She sits across from me, calm, content. She watches me as if nothing else matters but the study of every aspect of my being. No matter how many visits I have paid to these wise women I still feel vulnerable, as if my soul is open, on display to them. She speaks finally, telling me that I must do my best to obey her advice. I give my acceptance and she continues. As I listen my mind is racing, surely the things she says I cannot do. She holds her hand up for silence when I go to interrupt. Finishing, she kisses my forehead and bids me to heed her advice as I leave the caverns with my slave in tow.

I led the girl into my bedchamber; I motioned around the room and told her it was hers. I turn and leave her alone in the room. The oracle had told me some radical things, advising me to follow them. It was wrong to doubt the wise oracle, but I couldnít help wondering if she was right. I couldnít possibly do the things she had said and still remain an honorable Noble. I looked up as I heard the door open. The girl stepped out shyly, gesturing me to her. How could I not be kind to her?

I follow as if I was in a trance. She takes my hand when Iím near enough to her. She leads me this time to my bed. I stand there, waiting, not knowing what to expect or do. She places a tender hand upon my cheek. Stroking flesh that hasnít seen such true kindness since I was a mere babe. I seem to not be aware of my actions as I place a kiss to her palm. The brief thought that maybe my slave is a sorceress flashed across my mind, but quickly vanishes.

Our titles have dissolved into nothingness. At this time you could call us equals. She brings my lips to hers as she pulls me to the bed. She undresses us both tenderly almost like she is afraid that one of us will break. Iím not used to such gentle behavior. Previous couplings with the other Nobles were always fierce struggles of power. Only displays of prowess and standing, never this open and caring. There was no power being erected between us that night.

Our bodies melded together, blending into one. If I were to have walked into witness a Noble and slave so openly showing affection for each other, Iíd be sickened to my very soul. Forced to challenge that Noble for betraying our heritage. Yet I willingly touch and worship this wonderful creature beside me.

We lie face to face, no one trying to show dominance over the other. I feel as thought our two souls have merged into one. Her eyes slip closed as her climax overcomes her, in moments she is asleep. Sleep will not come easily this night. Memories of what just happened slam into me with the force of a sixty-foot wave. Guilt washes over me, guilt for betraying my fellow Nobles. Guilt for also feeling as if Iíve betrayed my beautiful blond slave. I was her first and I canít help feel undeserving of such a gift.

She awoke the next morning beside me. I watched her orient herself, then her eyes landed on me and a smile lit up her face. Not knowing how to handle this I got up and dressed for the day. She stared at me all the while. I left her there, as I went in search of nourishment. Shortly after, she stormed into the kitchen; franticly making gestures at me with a pleading, hurt expression on her face. I still had no clue as to what she was trying to tell me. I could not understand her. Without thinking I found some paper and ink, handing them to her. It was a fruitless action I know, for surely no slave could know how to scribe.

I stared in amazement, as she wasted no time in writing down what she felt. Throwing it at me when she finished. She stood there with her arms crossed over her chest while I read. I looked up at her amazed, I had not considered that she would have felt this deeply over what had happened last night. I quickly looked away. I was ashamed. I was angry. I disliked myself for having these feelings. After all she was just a slave.

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I stared out the window as she cleaned the meal from the table behind me. It had been six months since I found her. The head council had registered her as my slave. It was official now, sheís mine. I stare, now across the water, wondering as I do frequently lately, of where she came from. What her life was like before she floated to my shore. I have, as of yet, not asked her. She simply obeys my commands with out question. Since the day we saw the oracle we have not spoken of what had happened.

I asked her today where she came from. She wrote on the paper that she came from a land far away. I became angry over her blunt answer and demanded that she be more specific. She wrote this time that she was from a land called Giya. Where peace ruled. That the Sacred One and her consort dealt with the people honorably. She told me that the people respected their leaders without doubt. They needed no slaves. I watched her storm away. She tested my patience. I wanted to slam her up against the wall and beat the will from her. I wanted so much to go against the oracleís prophecy, but they were respected by all Nobles and I would not disgrace my fellow sisters.

The years passed slowly at times, then in rapid movements, not even seeming as if they happened. Life became easier after we fell into a sort of compromise. I was head of the estate she was my slave. The compromise came in when we communicated. I learned to watch my temper and be patient. She learned to answer. We became more than friends. The oracle was right, as always. Once I learned to stop being angry, the slave melted the ice from my heart, filling it with warmth.

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