Disclaimers are in the first part. Lawyers -- look for it yourselves, I'm too damn busy...
DANCING MAD
Part Two -- The Skins Game
"I think into the hole. I struggle for control.
The children love the show, but they fail to see the anguish in my eyes."
Marilyn Manson / The Dope Hat
Send me off like some sort of errand runner, will she? Why do I stay with her? Dammit, if I had wanted something like this, I would have STAYED HOME!, Gabrielle's thoughts were pitch black as she wound her way through the village crowds. People instictively parted as much as the crowd would allow for the dimunitive blonde. She blinked back the buds of errant tears as a part of her mind -- the more rational part -- whispered to her.
Hold on there. Xena is trying to make amends with her past, it's not like the time you 'accidently' picked up Sadivel's scarf at home when you were little? After Dad blistered your behind, he made you go back to Sadivel and apologize. And what did you do for a week after high noon to make it up to him?
"I weeded their garden for seven days," she muttered to herself, "when I was done, I didn't want to touch either a scarf or another plant for as long as I lived."
See. You've never taken anything that belonged to you since then.
"Yeah, and I've never tended another garden either. Point being?"
This is what Xena's doing. She is weeding out her garden, and what she needs from you is support.
"And what I want is a little time with her. I know, so don't bring it up -- there is a blood-thirsty warlord out ther who wants to put this village to the torch after he's done looting and pillaging and raping. Fine, I can deal with that. But Hercules is here, so why does she have to stick around?"
Because she feels guilty and she wants to help.
"Oh, please. I don't even buy that. All she thinks about is. . . work!" She realized that her voice was beginning to rise steadily. Furious, she lowered her head and kept going.
She can't take a vacation now. She has to help--
Gabrielle only saw the tease of hair out of the corner of her eyes before she bumped into the person in front of her. Her breath came out in a huff and a sharp intake that flooded her nose with the sharp twist of grapes and soil. As she tried to gather herself, she felt two pairs of delicate hands grab her and pull her to her feet. Gabrielle's eyes trailed their way up as was set aright. The person was clad in a dark purple toga, held together by a clasp that was shaped to look like a bunch of grapes hanging on a vine. Her body was full and evoked a guilty shudder from the slender bard. As Gabrielle finally looked the other woman in the face, she held in a gasp. The eyes that looked back at her were violet -- not green or blue or brown or hazel. Violet. She looked at the two women who held her up. They were beautiful, slender and exuded a husky aura of wantoness that made the bard tremble on her knees.
"Sorry, I didn't see you." Gabrielle's voice found itself after what felt like a dry eternity.
The woman smiled, "No harm done. Say. . . you're traveling with that Xena woman, aren't you?"
"Umm. . . yeah. I'm Gabrielle of Potedia."
The woman smiled and Gabrielle felt heat from her center and a chill down her spine at the same time, "I'm Nysa, this is Kepa and Melanthe. We're from around here, just getting ready for the festival in eight days time. Here," Nysa held up a wineskin she was carrying, "you look thirsty. Have some wine."
"Well, I'd like to but--"
Nysa pouted. Gabrielle felt all of her blood rushing from her head to other places.
"You're not being a good guest. Have a drink. For me." Nysa brought the skin closer to Gabrielle. The sweet scent of wine filled her nose. Her mouth went dry and gummy with trail dirt. She tried to swallow, but her throat felt thick and locked.
"Well. . . maybe one. I don't want to be rude or anything." She took the heavy skin in her hand and brought it up to her lips. The wine cut through the grime like a hot sword through cheese. It cooled everything it touched on its way down to her stomach, where it gathered and sat comfortably. A wave of giddiness took her by storm. As she felt her knees give out again, Kepa and Melanthe held her up, giggling to themselves. A gusty laughter rolled out from Gabrielle's belly.
"First time with the wine?" Nysa teased, looking deep into the bard's eyes.
Gabrielle nodded, bringing up the wineskin for another long swallow. She took a deep drink, trying to savor the sensation as much as she could. All of her problems -- Xena, her homesickness, even the dim memory of Callisto and Hope -- dwindled down to nothing. She could feel her soul, unburdened, sliupping free.
"Tell you what. I can get another skin from the temple, so you keep that. Maybe I can find you at the festival?" Nysa let a hand settle lightly on the bard's pale shoulder, "I'll take your silence as a yes. Good day, Gabrielle of Potedia." The trio turned and walked away, one of the other young women whispered something into Nysa's ear. She turned to look behind her as Gabrielle wiped away some stray drips of wine with the back of her hand. Nysa smiled mysteriously, her lips prusing into a kiss.
Gabrielle took the wineskin by the strap and slung it over her shoulder. She arched an eyebrow as the weight settled across her shoulder. It felt full, even though the two drinks she had should have made it at least half empty. She squeezed it gently. The firmness made her think of how Nysa would feel in her hands, the pair of them intertwined under the moon filled night, lying on a carpet of grass and grape leaves.
Whoa, where did that come from? I shouldn't be thinking like that. I - I need to do something. . . what was it? Oh, the infirmary. Right. Stay on task Gabrielle. The sooner we can get this done, the sooner we can. . .
She brought the skin up to her lips without a second thought, letting the red liquid rush down her throat.