DISCLAIMER : The characters of Xena and Gabrielle and some others belong in their entirety to Universal/MCA, Renaissance Pictures, and all the other powers that be. No copyright infringement is intended. I wrote this story at the urging of my muse; it should never be used for profit.

This story is a sequel to the story “Lord Conqueror of the Realm”. I strongly recommend you read it first because in this story there are references to events that took place in “Lord Conqueror of the Realm.” Here is where you can find it:


LOVE/SEX WARNING/DISCLAIMER : This story involves both love and sex (at times some rough/raw play with very mild BDSM elements – all consensual - nothing severe) between two adult women. If you're under 18 or if this type of story is illegal in the state or country in which you live, please do not read it.

SPECIAL THANKS : My humble most ardent gratitude to the excellent, most brilliant Beta readers Nancyjean and Alexandriaruth whom I can't thank enough.

Comments, thoughts, questions & feedback : MOST WELCOMED – The more you write me, the quicker I post – I mean it!



Part 1


Queen of the Realm

Written by WarriorJudge


Part 19

Too lost in her emotions, Queen Gabrielle was barely capable of nodding her head. She ran outside into the freezing night. She didn't feel the snow that hit her face as she ran and the piles of it covering the earth didn't slow her strides. Her legs were light as though they were stepping over thin clouds.

When she stood on the threshold of her hut, she stopped and wiped the droplets of tears that nearly froze to her skin. She opened the door and was greeted by the most enthralling sight she could imagine.

Their hut was illuminated by dozens of candles. The hut's entire furniture was pushed aside and the floor in front of the fire was covered with a few layers of furs creating a large soft bed.

Her svelte Lord stood naked facing the hearth and with her strong back sculpted with marvelous shoulder blades facing the entrance. She leaned against the mantel with her muscled arms outstretched forward against its edges. Stripes of the finest leather framed chiseled dense globes.

Hearing the door being closed behind her, the Conqueror turned around slowly and drank in the sight of her wife. Both their scarcely contained anticipation was thick and overbearing. Standing on opposite walls of the hut, they held each other's gazes.

Something about the Conqueror's posture and countenance stole the Queen's breath away and behooved her to cross the space between them mindfully. When she reached her Lord she began disrobing. Before discarding her blouse, she took out the collar, which was somewhat frayed from many years of usage, and handed it to her Lord.

It was a mute gesture that spoke volumes to the Conqueror and further incited her desire. As she ran her thumb over her crest she glanced at her naked Queen, whose delicate features were tilted downwards, and took one step forward till she stood toe to toe with her.

"I have a request, my Lord," the Queen said.

As the Conqueror fastened the slave collar around her wife's neck, she declared, "Anything you wish is yours, my Lady."

"Make her hear," the Queen requested and there was no need to state whom she was referring to. As her fingertips fluttered over her Lord's hard bulging collarbone, she continued, "Make her hear my cries as you wreak pleasure upon me and yours as you take pleasure from me."

The slave collar was now secured around her neck and she relished the sensation of the owning leather carrying her Lord's crest against her skin. Her teeth began to graze the Conqueror's chest seductively. "Force upon her the sound of your name being shouted out of me in the throes of passion," she pleaded unashamedly as she bucked her hips against the Conqueror's loins and rubbed her nub along the leathered phallus. "Leave no doubt in her mind," she whispered hotly in her Lord's ear.

The Conqueror leaned in, sank her teeth into the tender flesh of the Queen's neck beneath her ear and elicited a bursting yelp from her. "I give you my solemn oath that I shall make her ears bleed tonight," she vowed and began to suck the flesh till she tasted blood in her mouth. "I shall make it so that she will not know a moment of peaceful repose tonight," she promised while her hands molded the pair of nipples into hard erections. "I swear to you, my beloved Lioness, that the cries of our love and desire for one another will render her deaf come daybreak."

A shudder shook the Queen's spine at her Lord's brutal words and rippled through her core.

"Lie down on your belly, Gabrielle," the Conqueror said hoarsely. It was not a command but a request.

The Queen stepped away from her Lord and inwardly mourned the temporary loss of contact. She knelt before her Lord and walked on all fours onto the furs and laid herself according to her Lord's will, trembling with anticipation.

The Conqueror's gaits were predatory before she knelt at her Queen's feet and began to massage her toned calves. She would not rush it this time. She kneaded the firm flesh, her hands slowly traveling up the Queen's body, learning the changes in it.

“You are so beautiful,” she husked.

The Queen enjoyed the sensation of her thighs being skillfully molded, but it was the occasional pricks of the tip of Conqueror's length hovering over her against her legs that caused a brook of her essence to trickle between her inner thighs. The closer the Conqueror got to that aching spot between her legs, the faster her heart beat and the tighter her grasp upon the fur beneath her got.

“So tight and smooth I could polish my blade on your skin,” the Conqueror's low hoarse voice taunted the Queen and quickened her breath.

The Conqueror was beyond prurient but she would control herself. That short tryst in the steam hut earlier that day had only aggravated her appetite and she knew it had had the same effect on her wife. She would not stop before they both had their fill and the vows she had made to her wife fulfilled.

The Queen let out a throaty moan that put half a smile on her Lord's lips, exposing a sharp white prominent canine.

Her powerful fingers dug into the willing flesh of the Queen's round buttocks. She splayed her palms over the twin mounds and tugged sideways to expose the puckered orifice to a single lash of her tongue.

Another guttural moan shot out of the Queen's mouth with a gasp. She forced her hips downwards to try and apply some contact with the furs beneath her to relieve the pressure, but it was too soft. Her Lord would be the only one to ease her carnal suffering tonight, she acknowledged.

The Queen's movement widened the Conqueror's smile and revealed the other canine. As punishment, she sank her canines into the left ample orb and broke the skin, provoking a scream of delicious pain out of her lover.

“Your rapture is mine to grant, my love.”

The rich, smoky timbre was intense enough to bristle up the Queen's skin.

“Do anything remotely akin to that again and I'll tie you up,” the Conqueror warned.

The thought of being even more helpless, being at her lover's mercy, sent the Queen's desire soaring higher. She was tempted to try her only Lord.

The small of her back and her waist were given the same treatment. The Conqueror's wet agile tongue slid along the Queen's spine all the way up to her nape and it was like a single flame that instigates a conflagration.

“It is I who'll make you scream, love, only I.”

The Conqueror's melodious voice blowing in her ear, and the feel of the heat coming off the Conqueror's body above hers, tormented the Queen.

Every spot the Conqueror fervently kissed, sucked and bit burned, leaving marks of passion like scorched land after battle.

The Conqueror straddled her Queen and her shaft nestled between the Queen's rear cheeks, the tip raking back and forth between them.

“Who am I, my Lady?” the Conqueror asked.

“You are my Lord,” the Queen answered.

“I didn't hear you!” the Conqueror demanded and denied her Queen contact by lifting up her loins.

“Please, put your member inside me,” the Queen begged when she thought she couldn't take it anymore. Her fists trembled from the effort of clutching the furs.

The Conqueror was redolent of dominance. “I will not ask you again,” she cautioned.

“You are my Lord, my Love, and my Lion!” the Queen shouted.

“As you are my Lady, my Love and my Lioness!” the Conqueror growled and guided her hard shaft into the soaking petals of her wife's cleft.

Their heady scents hung heavy in the air. The Conqueror suspended her weight on her elbows. She interlaced her fingers with the Queen's, both grabbing the furs. The Queen turned her head backwards and allowed her lips to be captured by her Lord's. Her Lord occupied her lithe body and she wished it could be like that forever.

Each deep thrust brought her closer to the Gods. The Queen's heart prayed that she would never be parted from her dark-haired Warrior Love and Ruler and gave thanks that their love was imperishable.

Their bond overwhelmed them and as their bodies were engrossed in their desire, their hearts pounded in their chests as they ascended and intertwined.

“Never leave me again,” the Queen cried, while the Conqueror's penetrations into her impelled raw emotions. “Say you'll never leave me again,” she implored.

“I never will,” the Conqueror vowed. “I love you so much, Gabrielle. I love you above all else,” the Conqueror exclaimed under labored rasps. “Your word that you'll always be mine and mine alone.”

“Only yours. I love you,” the Queen swore.

Close to their climax, the Conqueror suddenly retreated and got off her lover.

The Queen protested and never felt emptier as she did then. She wasn't done being one with her soulmate and she ached with need.

Involuntary, her hip grounded against the furs again in order to supplant the lacuna.

That was the excuse the Conqueror was waiting for. She took her belt in one hand and her whip in the other from the nearby table.

“Seat yourself on the furs at the foot of the bed,” the Conqueror ordered.

The Queen obeyed.

The Conqueror crouched by her with the grace of a regal predator.

The Queen caught sight of the Conqueror's massive shaft dangling between chiseled glistening thighs and her mouth salivated, craving a taste.

The Conqueror took the Queen's hand and tied it to the left bedpost with her belt and the other to the right with her whip. As she beheld her incapacitated with a collar around her neck, she read minutiae of Gabrielle's desire.

Gabrielle tried to move her hands and struggled against the leather that bound her, but the Conqueror knew how to tie unbreakable knots. She was granted her unspoken wish to be at the Conqueror's mercy.

The Sovereign stood over the bounded Queen, each foot to each side of her. She bent her knees slightly so that her crotch would be at the same level as her wife's head. She rutted the Queen's golden hair with her fingers, tilting her head upwards to suit her.

"Open that sweet little mouth of yours, beloved, and take my length in full."

The Queen opened her mouth as wide as it could open and received the Conqueror's tool, which still carried her own wetness on it.

The Conqueror held on to the bedposts with both hands as she began to deliver long stokes into her wife's mouth. Her need for her wife was so great it hurt.

“In full, I said,” she growled and pushed deeper into the besieged gullet.

The Queen quickly accommodated. A mad rush of awe and pleasure coursed through her veins as she sucked on the instrument that possessed her so copiously.

As the rams into her mouth intensified, the Conqueror let go of the bedpost and placed her palm at the back of the Queen's head to protect it from being slammed against the hard wooden board behind it.

A small gesture, perhaps, but the Queen was moved deeply by it, that even in a heightened stage of arousal, her Lord was mindful of her safety. She glanced upwards in gratitude and saw her Lord looking down at her with smoldering desire.

As her lips and tongue traveled back and forth repeatedly over the shaft, the Queen became inebriated by the Conqueror's trenchant subjugating scent. As the pace became more urgent, the Queen closed her eyes and braced herself for her Lord's eruption, her ears barraged by her Lord's heavy, labored grunts as she neared the edge.

The Conqueror's head dropped backwards, her glazed blue eyes fixated at the ceiling. She opened her mouth and howled at the top of her lungs, “Gabrielle!!!” It was louder than any battle cry she had ever produced, loud enough to startle Hades. A river of her release sprinkled the Queen's breasts. The Queen moved her head sharply to the side so to eject the shaft out of her mouth and enable her face and mouth to be showered and consume as much of it as possible.

The Conqueror dropped to her knees. She took a few short moments to recover and planted a kiss on her wife's lips.

“No one has ever made me feel the way you do,” she said, then closed her lips around a saturated nipple and flicked her tongue over the pebbled bud that hardened instantly in her mouth. “Not just love,” she continued and scraped it with her teeth and elicited loud screams out of her lover. “I never knew such heights of lust before, either.” She enjoyed the sight and sensation of Gabrielle's taut body jerking against the binds.

Two coarse fingers rubbed circles on Gabrielle's swollen clitoris. The pleasure between her legs with the torturing pain raking her nipples drove the Queen out of her senses. The wild sounds that burst out of her mouth were like something uncanny, almost unsettling.

In the red haze of desire, Gabrielle felt her lover's long fingers plunging into her slit. Her wet depth hungrily suckled on the commanding digits.

Their gazed locked like two magnets as a third finger delved into the blazing opening and a fresh flux poured onto the Conqueror's palm. Then a fourth finger pushed into the engorged flesh, but only when all of the Conqueror's fingers were inside and the Conqueror fisted her imposing hand did the vigorous pumping begin.

“It feels like I have two hearts beating inside my body, equally yours and mine,” she exclaimed as her womanhood strained to contain the immense intrusion. “I cannot abide this torturing wait for release much longer,” she whimpered in agony.

The Conqueror knew precisely the spot to stimulate inside her lover's womanly crevice and felt torrents of hot confection coating her fist and dribble out of the contracting tunnel and onto her wrist down her arm to her elbow. As she made intense love to her wife, she witnessed the veins in her beloved's throat expand and the outburst of a pink hue over her skin. The stentorian groans of ecstatic pleasure ringed in her ears and she rotated her fist to match her wife's need.

The Conqueror kept her word, for the Queen's climax hit her hard and her name was carried by a piercing scream.

As she came again and again, the Queen kept shouting “Xena!” over and over.

When the final tremor subsided, the Conqueror took out her fist from the warm, moist and quivering pouch. She smeared her wife's essence over her forehead, on each of her cheekbones and between her upper lip and her nose like war colors. What remained on her hand she licked clean and what encrusted her arm she spread over her chest. She reeked of her wife's sex as well as her own.

The Conqueror undid the knots she had tied her wife's wrists with and gently helped her to lie prone on the furs for some much needed rest.

After some time elapsed, the Conqueror lay over her Queen, then lifted her body up, supporting her weight on her arms and hovering over her.

“Take it off me,” she requested, “I want to feel your flesh against mine everywhere.”

The Queen smiled and sent diligent hands to unbuckle the Conqueror's harness. Reverently, she removed it and set it aside. Next she felt the Conqueror's hard protruding erection against her thigh.

“Will you be inclined to engage once more?” the Conqueror inquired in a sinister jest, almost like a challenge.

“I shan't be fully sated before you, my Lord,” the Queen answered.

“I want you too much, Gabrielle,” the Conqueror said and pelted her wife's sweaty face with countless gentle kisses, over cheeks, over nose, over forehead and over eyelids. “It scares me sometimes.”

“Take comfort in the knowledge that I want you just as much, my beautiful Xena,” the Queen replied as she stroked the black tresses of her Lord and returned kisses whenever her Lord's lips touched hers.

“You don't understand. No one should want another that much, least of all me,” the Conqueror whispered as she levied a slow, deliberate ride upon her wife's body.

Utterly beguiled by her Lord, the Queen beamed with delight, “If not the Ruler of the world then who?” she argued so to alleviate her Lord's dire concern and jolted her pelvis upwards to meet with her Lord's languid motions against her.

The Conqueror interposed her hand between their writhing bodies. She entered her Queen's sopping womanhood with two fingers. Another cleaved its way into the Queen's sphincter of her rear passage and her thumb stroked the engorged nub at the apex of her sex.

As thrusts fraught with need became further laden with force and quicker pace, Lord and Lady caressed one another and indulged in kissing and whispering and moaning and granting. The blood in their veins was seething with greedy lust. When desire conquered them entirely, the Queen dug her nails into her Lord's back till she drew blood, the soles of her feet rubbing her Lord's muscled calves. The sensation of her Lord's sex plowing her thigh brought her equal pleasure as the skilled hand attending to her own need. Her Lord strove into her wife's flesh and deeper, much deeper than that and the Queen knew that there was nothing on earth that elated her more.

Ultimate release was about to overtake them. The Conqueror pushed harder, against and into her eager overheated wife. The ascension stole their breaths, as if they were fighting to keep their heads above repeatedly purling swells of a deep dark ocean. They succumbed to it and milked their shuttering pinnacle for all its worth.

The Conqueror collapsed over her Queen, her head pillowed by a blushed, heaving breast.

The Queen smiled a loving and tender smile at her Lord who lay spent on top of her. “There is light outside,” she pointed out after throwing a glance at the window.

“Have I kept my word to you?” the Conqueror asked, still lightly rasping and thoroughly exhausted.

“You already know the answer to this question, my Lion,” the Queen replied and glanced smugness about the Conqueror's countenance. She took the Conqueror's hand in hers and brought it to her lips. “Those strong, rough and large hands of your make me melt at their touch.”

The Conqueror let out a lazy lark. “Each and every token of your body makes me melt, love,” she said. She got up to fetch a pillow from the bed for her Queen and placed it carefully beneath the Queen's head.

The Queen closed her eyes and enjoyed the relaxation of her finally satiated body. She heard her Lord stirring the cinders in the hearth and adding two more logs to the fire. She then heard her Lord pouring two cups of water, then an unrecognizable rustle, but she was too elated to wonder about her Lord's doings.

The Conqueror returned to lie down on the furs and rested her head on the Queen's flat stomach. She gave one cup to her Queen and drank the other.

Smooth silky mane blanketed the Queen and pampered her sensitive skin. She couldn't resist the urge to braid a few strands of her Lord's ebony hair.

The Conqueror enjoyed the Queen playing with her hair but wouldn't admit to it out loud. Her shimmering eyes beheld her pensive and calm wife reclining against the hefty pillow, and then moved to rest on the collar around the Queen's neck.

“I look at you now and I am amazed at how much you have grown and changed ever since I first saw you… A skittish slave girl on the slavers' block. Look at you now. A magnificent strong Queen, whose past is no longer visible upon her… not even by the tiniest hint,” the Conqueror said and profound admiration was clear on her.

“This is one of the best compliments you have ever paid me, my Lord.”

“If it weren't for my shortcomings and selfishness, you could have…” the Conqueror began to say.

But the Queen placed a silencing finger upon the Conqueror's soft lips, “No regrets and no more apologies, my Love. We should put our discord behind us and be grateful for our bond and our love.”

“Your ability for forgiveness humbles me and it is one of your traits for which I best love you,” the Conqueror admitted. She dipped her tongue into the Queen's nave. “As Queen of the Amazons, you must have been trained to command an army.”

“I was indeed, and during my training I did command the Amazon warriors in a simulated battle,” the Queen told the one who she knew would relish it most and not without pride.

“How I wish I could have seen you, my Lady.” To the Conqueror, it seemed impossible to avoid regret.

The Queen placed a loving kiss on the Conqueror's smooth, damp forehead. “My achievements in life could not have been accomplished if it weren't for you, my Lord.”

The Conqueror was thankful for her wife's bounteous kindness. “I might have facilitated some of them, but it was you who earned each and every one of them.”

“That is too generous of you to say, but I suspect that the great love you bear me veils the truth from you, or rather makes you forget. I was a scared worthless slave not able to even look one soul in the eye. I could walk around your palace and encounter dozens of your staff and hardly anyone noticed me and those who did, looked at me with either pity or scorn in their eyes.”

“But you were noticed. Karpa noticed you. Do you know when was the first time I saw you as something other than a piece of property? It was the first time I learnt your name. You saved a nobleman's child's life that day. Soon others noticed you, too.”

The Conqueror unfastened the collar and took it off from around the Queen's neck and buckled it around the Queen's right thigh were it had been ever since their wedding night.

“You are my Queen before anything else,” the Conqueror said. By this she meant that Gabrielle was her Queen before she was her servant.

The Queen understood the Conqueror's meaning. “Your Queen before anything else, my Lord,” she repeated and affirmed, only what she meant by it was that she was her Lord's Queen before anyone else's Queen, and her Lord took it to mean just that.

And then a few moments passed between them in silence.

“What is it you think of?” the Queen broke the silence and caressed her Lord's features, for she appeared to be immersed deep within her thoughts.

“About Thiba,” came the Conqueror's unexpected response. Upon seeing surprise cross her wife's face, she explained, “I know your heart, my love. You must feel guilty, like you failed in some way.”

The Queen absentmindedly nodded her head in mute agreement.

“You mustn't. Five moons cannot repair the damage done by years of maltreatment, and some people can never be repaired. She is a predator now.”

“You've changed,” the Queen claimed.

“Have I?” the Conqueror wondered out loud.

“Not long ago, you would have executed all three of them,” the Queen answered.

The Conqueror wasn't entirely convinced at her wife's assertion. She wondered whether she would have spared the Governor of Crete's life had her Queen asked her to. She wasn't entirely sure. Leisurely, she drew circles around the Queen's nipple with a single affectionate fingertip.

“When I picked his name I did so knowing very well who he was,” she stated.

“ Damianos?” the Queen asked.

“Yes. He was an archer with my twenty first's legion. When planning my campaign to Persia , I was short three dozen soldiers to ride with me on the first line of battle. The legion's commander presented me with a list of archers from which to choose. When I saw his name on that list, I didn't hesitate to station him at the most dangerous place in my forces' formation, and I did hope that he would perish because he had had carnal knowledge of you. He and a few of his fellow archers were ordered to the forefront. Many of them died on the battlefield, and later on I was glad to learn he was amongst the fallen.”

The Queen considered her Lord's words, and carefully contemplated her response. “If it wasn't him it would have been someone else just like him instead. His blood hadn't greater value than that of his fellow brothers in arms. You are as responsible for his death as you are of all that died under your command, no more and no less, your rejoicing at his demise notwithstanding.” The Queen knew that her Lord felt no scruples, regret or remorse over her actions either way, and she was correct to think so. She knew that the only reason that her Lord divulged the details of how her former owner had met his end was so that she would know and so there would be no secrets between them.

The Conqueror wasn't sure what to make of her Queen's reply. Was her Queen making excuses? So she could live with herself for choosing her as a mate, or did she really believe what she said?

“Do you think me evil?”

The Queen directed her gaze at her Lord and regarded her intently. “I wouldn't have loved you if I believed you were, Xena,” she simply replied.

And then it was quiet again.

“You haven't answered the question I asked you regarding how you felt when you first heard about your previous owners' deaths,” the Conqueror remarked.

“I wasn't content to learn of my previous owners' deaths. Their demise brought me neither relief nor comfort. The damage to me was already done, and there was no malice or impropriety in their actions.”

The Conqueror's initial instinct was to be angry that her wife and Queen didn't share her contentment that those who had owned her had died, but she soon overcame it and her admiration towards her Queen grew even stronger. Hatred wasn't a denizen in her wife's heart and she loved her for it.

The Queen continued her speech, “While here, the Shamaness was a great service to me in confronting the past and its ramifications. It no longer has a hold over me.” A satisfied smile stretched her lips.

The Conqueror cupped her Queen's features and soon after, their lips met in a tender kiss. When the kiss ended, the Conqueror's fingertips lingered against her wife's cheeks.

“With your reverence for life… How can you suffer to share your life and your bed with a killer?” she was bold enough to pose the question.

“I share my life and my bed with a Ruler, and never has lived a ruler without blood on his hands,” the Queen replied, hoping she had given a satisfactory riposte.

“And what if I told you I took pleasure in the kill, in wedging war, in devising and plotting a battle?” the Conqueror persisted.

The Queen afforded herself a few moments to consider her Lord's question. “I take pleasure in your battle-lust. What does it say about me?” she softly pondered and caressed her Lord's rough knuckles.

The Conqueror answered thoughtfully, “That there is a sliver of darkness within you as well.” She closed her grasp around her wife's fingers and brought them to her lips, “Which makes us suit each other perfectly.”

“There is a difference between killing for pleasure and taking pleasure in killing. You are a just and honorable Ruler and you allow neither your great power nor your darkness to overshadow your judgment.”

She saw that her Lord was contemplative still. “What is troubling you, my Lion?” she warmly inquired.

The Conqueror let out a deep breath before she responded. “I have no right and no moral grounding asking you this,” she began to say then paused, overwhelmed by her ignoble feelings of intense jealousy.

“You have every right to ask me anything you wish and it is my duty to answer you truthfully,” the Queen said.

It was all the encouragement the Conqueror needed. “Did you receive pleasure with them?”

Yours is the only pleasurable touch I have ever known, my Lord.”

“Did they ever inflict physical pain on you?”

“Rarely,” the Queen answered.

And then it was quiet once more.

"Will you make me a promise?" the Queen asked.

"Let us hear it," the Conqueror said.

"That from here on, you shall always speak what is in your heart freely with me. I assure you, there is nothing that would make me think less of you or lessen my love for you.”

“I will try and do my very best,” the Conqueror said.

The Queen was amused by her Lord's choice of words, for she knew her Lord's limitations all too well.

Another kiss was shared between them.

“Never call me ‘Majesty' again,” the Conqueror demanded in high spirit when their lips separated.

“Never call me ‘Madame' again,” the Queen countered.

The Conqueror chuckled. “Bargaining with me again, are you?”

The Queen took another deep sensual kiss from her Lord as a response.

With a hint of a rasp, the Conqueror asked, “Will you marry me, my Lady?”

“Are you having sport with me, my Lord?” the Queen inquired, thinking her Lord was taunting her. “I am already married to you.”

“You always say that you were so overwhelmed and so anxious during our wedding that you hardly remember much of it. Will you do me the honor and be joined with me in a joining ceremony, my Amazon Queen?”

The Queen's eyes lit up brightly. She threw her arms around the Conqueror's neck, and bathed her Lord's face with kisses. “Should I take it to mean that you'll have me?”

“Of course I will,” the Queen replied in between kisses, “As many times as you desire.” She laughed as she felt the Conqueror's scorching breath roaming down the valley between her breasts. “We should try and get some rest now,” the Queen whispered and pressed her body into every nook and cranny in her Lord's body.

As the Royals settled for some much needed sleep, the Conqueror, encompassing her wife's body from behind, buried her face in her Queen's hair, and whispered tentatively as if halfheartedly, “Do you still harbor a desire to conceive and bear me more children?”

At first there was stillness, then the Queen stirred in the Conqueror's arms and turned to face her.

“Why do you ask now, my Lord?”

“Because I wish to oblige you all your heart's desires, as it should be.” The Conqueror's voice was burdened as she spoke.

“Would it please you if I was with child again?” the Queen inquired.

“Anything would please me, my Lady, which made you happy.” Inwardly, the Conqueror hoped that her wife had long abandoned her desire to produce more children, and would reject the notion of conceiving again. The thought of besetting her precious wife's life in jeopardy made her blood run cold in her veins and her heart shrink in fear.

The Queen wrapped her arms around her Lord in a tight embrace. “Thank you, my gracious Lord. Set aside any concerns you surely have for my wellbeing. I am stronger and no harm shall befall me this time. The Shamaness told me I shall live to see our future child's children.”

The Conqueror was astounded beyond measure. “You two have spoken about this matter?” She withdrew from her wife's embrace to look in her eyes.

“Just before I retired to our bed, my Lord. She told me she was visited by the spirit of our unborn child and that I should give birth this time next year.”

“And you have waited this long to tell me?!”

“I gave you my word that I should never bring the subject of children before you, my Lord.”

The Conqueror gathered her Queen back into her arms. “How marvelous you are,” she caressed her beloved with her voice and pressed her lips to the top of her Queen's head. “Tell me, beloved, now that you are Queen of the Amazons, how would you wish our lives to proceed?”

“I should like to return to our home in Corinth . I have missed it more than I thought I would. It is my wish that we shall visit the Amazon Lands whenever it is agreeable with you and with your permission and that every year for one summer moon, we shall visit Thira alone, just us.”

“As you wish, my love,” the Conqueror smiled kindly. “I shall summon my brother to Corinth , then.”

“As long as you send a letter to Amphipolis, might we not invite Lady Cyrene as well? I have missed my dear mother-in-law terribly.”

The Conqueror rubbed her chin and said nothing.

“Is something the matter?”

“I'm afraid I might have made a bit of a mess of things whilst in Corinth ,” the Conqueror confessed and decided against elaborating any further.

“I'm afraid to ask…” the Queen muttered. “Then I shall be the one to send an invitation to Lady Cyrene,” she concluded.

Happy beyond her dreams, almost too excited to keep still and fall asleep, the Queen settled back and lay in her Lord's arms, which held her close and tight. We are to have another child, my Lion,” she murmured.

“Swear to me that I will not lose you,” the Conqueror requested.

“I do so swear.”

And just before she succumbed to slumber, the Queen said, “My heart cannot contain this great love I feel for you and so it overflows and the love I bear you swims in my blood and occupies body completely.”

“I love you too, Gabrielle.”


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