Xena: Twisted Fates (Part 2) (Patreon)

The moment Xena had begun speaking, Nellos could barely contain his glee. His lips spread wide in a ghoulish grin and he gritted his teeth to restrain a cackle. Every word she said was music to his ears. He had only pictured this result in his fantasies, but now here it was, real and standing before him: the warrior princess was his.

When she finished, the victorious magician burst into an almost childish giggle of excitement.

“Yes, Xena,” he tittered, “Yes, indeed. There was never any doubt.”

Shame twisted the beaten warrior princess’s heart as Nellos advanced on her, rubbing his hands eagerly. His eyes roamed up and down, admiring the firm thighs and tight cleavage her armor revealed, the shape of the hips and breasts, already imagining what the black leather and bronze obscured.

Xena’s head remained bowed and hopeless, eyes lowered, not meeting the sorcerer’s greedy gaze.

“It was only through sheer luck that you evaded me for this long,” Nellos eyed her healthy bust, “But now, it’s time to claim what I’m owed.”

Following his gaze, his hand reached for her chest, clasping into the brassiere of her armor. He pulled her towards him and she staggered before she caught her balance, close enough that the sorcerer could look straight down the top of her bustier.

“Oh yes…” the sorcerer chuckled, “What I’m owed…”

The leather cups of Xena’s armor were quite full of their soft contents, holding the round orbs tight so they gleamed. Nellos tugged a bit on the brassiere, trying to see deeper into the shadowy plunge between her breasts. Instead, he saw something glint.

“Hm, what’s this now?” he grinned, “Hiding something, are we?”

Xena swallowed, her back stiffening. She’d forgotten about the dagger.

“I… I forgot—” she started to reach for it.

“You will be silent, girl!” Nellos snapped, “And you will stay still until I say otherwise!”

Biting her lip at being scolded, Xena let her hands fall back to her sides. She chanced a quick look up at him, her cheeks flushed with shame, before looking away again.

Nellos grinned, relishing his chastisement of the warrior princess. He watched her, waiting to see if she’d snap back, but other than a quick look she stayed silent and did exactly as she was told. Any doubt he might have had about the sincerity of Xena’s surrender vanished. After so many years of hard luck, the gods had finally given him his due.

“Now what could our princess be hiding?” he chuckled, suddenly feeling chipper.

Eyes gleaming and intent, Nellos slipped his hand into the brassiere.

Xena winced with discomfort as his fingers invaded the warmth between her breasts. His hand was a bigger than hers and he was intent on working his way deeper than he needed to, the tight fit making the sensitive bulbs smoosh into his knuckles. But despite the pain and humiliation, she stayed tractable and limp, letting him do what he wanted.

Nellos rummaged longer than he needed to, enjoying the firm shapes squeezing around his hand, but eventually drew out the little dagger, holding it up in front of her face.

“A hidden blade,” he clucked his tongue, “How sneaky of you. If I were so inclined, I might punish you for this. Perhaps a flogging of that heroic bottom of yours would teach you a lesson, hm?”

That brought a deeper flush to Xena’s cheeks. She cringed at the thought, turning her face towards her shoulder, trying to hide her shame.

Delighted by the reaction, Nellos chuckled and tucked the dagger into his belt.

“Perhaps later, but not now.” he amended.

Taking her by the shoulders, he cast his eyes up and down once more, feasting them on the form fitting leather and metal, along with the body that lay beneath. Reaching up with one hand, he scooped her dark hair from her shoulders, brushing it away so it fell down her back, then he felt his way around her unobscured neck and shoulders. Her arms were firm but relaxed and unresisting, letting him drag his grasp up and down, enjoying her soft skin.

“And so,” Nellos said gently, “Your legend ends here, as my prisoner and prize. And what a fine prize you are…”

Xena let out a small breath and found herself relaxing, though she didn’t know why. His gentle touch was almost like a massage, his voice calming. Part of her was ashamed that she felt that way, but another part was genuinely comforted.

“I think the first thing I shall do,” Nellos grinned, “Is remove this armor.”

The pair of them had no idea that this scene had played out before, but with a very different ending. They didn’t realize the significance when rather than twisting his arm out of its socket, Xena remained still and obedient, letting him take her forearm and begin removing her bracers.

“You won’t be needing it any longer.” He undid the buckles, “It’s made for a warrior, not a pitiful slave.”

He set the bracer carefully down, then moved to the other.

“Give me your arm, girl.” He chided, then began undoing this one as well, “This has been overdue. You’ve long needed to be stripped of this metal and leather and put into something more suitable.”

Xena hung her head, eyes cast down as her other bracer found its way to the ground. Next came the layer of bronze armor over her chest, unbuckled and unclipped, then dropped to the ground to reveal the molded leather that shaped around her stomach and breasts.

Nellos’ eyes gleamed and he couldn’t resist a small chuckle. He was enjoying taking Xena’s armor from her, not solely because it was humiliating but because with each piece he removed, he revealed more of her well-trained body. Eyes danced over the flat stomach, the leather cups that held her chest, then he smoothed his hand up and down, feeling a hint of the feminine form beneath.

“Turn.” He took her by the shoulder and turned her around.

Facing away from him, Xena didn’t even bother to look back as Nellos admired her. The leather bustier stopped at her mid back, leaving only the straps and her long dark hair to obscure her tanned shoulder blades. He pinched a strand of hair and worked it between thumb and forefinger, gauging the texture.

“Hmm…” he grunted thoughtfully, making a mental note.

Combing his fingers through her mane, he then bunched it into a single thick ribbon that he could lay over one shoulder. With her hair out of the way, Nellos kneaded the lean muscles of her neck, then began working his way down over the grooves of back. Her shoulder blades were muscular, but still had slight delicacy of a woman’s, soft to the touch as he traced his thumbs around them, feeling the expanse of vulnerable skin.

As he continued to feel about, making thoughtful sounds, shame stabbed into Xena’s stomach as she realized what Nellos was doing. He was testing every muscle and shape, looking for imperfections by touch. He wasn’t only groping her, he was examining her. Like a horse before purchase.

Then he took the bottom of her skirt and pulled it up.

Xena let out a heavy breath. The humiliation almost physically hurt, but it was less and less with each degradation. A deep sense of resignation was settling in her, her pride being pushed away.

Nellos leaned back to leer. He’d known Xena had muscular legs and he wasn’t in any way displeased with the swell of her butt. She wore a brief leather garment under the skirt, not her underwear but close enough. The dark material was snug, tucked in tight where the two globes pressed together into a heart shape, forced to stretch where they protruded.

He admired for a moment, then reached under the skirt to touch.

“Stay still.” He ordered unnecessarily.

Some of the leather strips of Xena’s skirts dangled in the way and he brushed them aside before flattening his palm against the center of her rump, letting his fingers sink in ever so slightly. He stayed there for a moment, feeling the warmth and broad shape, before letting his hand drift to the side, exploring the way it turned.

As Nellos enjoyed his slow, thorough of the warrior princess’s bottom, he glanced up at her, partly expecting to see her about to strike him. But she wasn’t. Xena stayed still, her head lowered, shoulders slumped and weary, not even protesting. Encouraged, he dared to clasp one side of rump and squeeze. She did nothing.

There was no doubt now. He had her.

“How very wise of you to know when you’re beaten,” Nellos groped around to the other side of her butt and squeezed that as well, “No silly attempts at resistance, no threats or protests. It’s only a shame you didn’t realize it sooner, you foolish woman.”

He finished by giving her backside a pair of sound, approving smacks, before letting the skirt fall back down.

“Your humbled demeanor will be excellent when I display you to the city,” he reached for the catches on her armor, “The mighty Xena, stripped and bound at the hands of Nellos the Warrior Sorcerer. I can’t imagine anything more dramatic.”

There were several strings and clips in the seams of the armor that held it in place. Nellos undid them one by one until the form fitting leather was loose and ready to fall.

“The people will never doubt me again after I show them the warrior princess, fettered and yoked like a sacrificial lamb,” he slipped one of the straps off her shoulder, “All my critics will vanish when they see you. I will have everything I once had and more!”

The other strap was pushed off her shoulder, then he undid her leather skirts.

“One day the novelty will wear off, I’m sure. The people will hardly remember you were a powerful warrior once.”

Her skirts fell into the dirt and Nellos began working her bustier free.

“But don’t fret, Xena,” he grinned as he pulled it up over her head, “Such a firm, docile girl as yourself will make a fine slave. I can already see many interesting uses for you, even after the tales of your exploits are only told in jest. Up!”

Xena lifted her arms over her head, helping him draw the leather up and off.

“Your breeding seems well enough,” Nellos smirked as he undid her boots, “If you’re the most fortunate, you may even bear me sons to continue my line. Such is my mercy that you could indeed have that privilege. I’m sure they would be strong…”

After removing her boots, he turned Xena back around to face him.

The warrior princess looked decidedly different without her armor. Beneath she wore a simple white shift, knitted tight around her chest to support her breasts, with a skirt so short it barely reached her thighs. The shoulder straps were slim and without the protection of the leather it all looked very fragile, as did Xena herself. Even with her combat-trained muscles she looked like a simple farm woman, barefoot and bowed in just her undergarments.

For a moment Nellos considered stripping her entirely, but he decided he’d already succeeded in his task. No one would mistake her for a warrior now.

He took her arm and drew her closer, so her ripe breasts almost touched his chest. His grin was broad and his mind was twisted with different possibilities as he admired the plunge of her cleavage, the feel of her unresisting body. He had so many plans for her, fantasies to fulfill. The only problem was he didn’t know where to start.

Nellos opened his mouth to say something, then changed his mind and closed it again. He hesitated then smoothed his hand up from her waist to her ribs, feeling the turn of her waist.

Shame and some unexplainable excitement tickled up Xena’s spine, making her breathing pick up, but she stayed still. Even when he gathered her breast into his palm and squeezed she allowed him to have his way.

Nellos licked his lips, molding the unresisting orb with his fingers, but he gradually began to look away. Despite his boasting, he hadn’t expected Xena to surrender so easily. He had eventual plans for her, but he realized he didn’t know what he was going to do with her at this very moment.

He continued to feel and shape her breast as he looked about the trees, seeking inspiration. He was tempted to throw her down and take her here, but that seemed undignified, particularly when someone could come riding along. The most obvious next step was to take her back to town, but he needed to gather his mount. He’d have to set his warrior prisoner somewhere safely while he went about that business.

Finally, he nodded to himself, making up his mind.

“Come,” he simply said.

Keeping his grip on her bicep, the faux sorcerer turned and walked her towards a nearby tree.

Xena marched beside him, eyes low, letting him lead her like a disobedient child. She was walked right up to the trunk of a large olive tree. When he pushed down on her shoulder, she lowered herself to her knees and rested her bottom on her heels.

It was easy, like she’d been trained for years to be a slave.

Nellos couldn’t resist smiling as he bent to take her wrists, drawing them around the tree trunk. With her hugging the olive wood like an old friend, he produced a small rope and began binding her hands together.

“I have work to do now, Xena,” he explained as he looped the rope around her wrists, “While I’m busy, you are to wait here. Be quiet and patient.”

He finished the bonds with a jerk to keep them snug.

“Be a good prisoner and I’ll allow you to rest.”

With her bound to the tree, he strolled behind her and produced a scarf with a flick of his wrist.

“Cause problems and you’ll be walking back to Icaria on bare feet,” he yanked on the scarf so it popped, “Open your mouth, please.”

Xena looked over her shoulder at him, frowning in confusion. She wasn’t resisting, she was just surprised at the command. After a moment’s hesitation she opened her mouth wide as ordered, but still blinked at him in bewilderment.

It made sense when Nellos slipped the scarf between her teeth then pulled it taut, tying it behind her head.

“Riding across my saddle or trudging behind my steed, you will make quite the dramatic sight,” he finished the knot, “We will have to time our arrival during peak market hours. I want as many people as possible to see you.”

Xena flushed at the thought, as well as the gag. She’d been gagged before, but she’d never meekly opened her mouth to let someone silence her. It set a troubling flutter in her tummy, something she couldn’t remember feeling since her more awkward years.

Nellos himself paused to enjoy the thought as well, resting a hand on top of her head.

“It will be marvelous…”

Looking wistfully away, he idly stroked her dark hair, imagining how everything was about to change for him.

He allowed himself a few more seconds of indulgence before he turned back to her.

“Quiet and patient,” he reminded his prisoner, “I won’t be long.”

Then with a consolatory pat on her head, he turned and left her, making his way back towards Argos.

Xena watched him go, chewing thoughtfully on her gag. There was little else she could do. Nellos didn’t know much about actual magic, but as a magician he knew knots. The ropework on her wrists was very competent and she doubted she’d be able to escape if she tried. Perhaps if she had enough time she could rub the ropes away against the tree trunk until they snapped, but though the thought crossed her mind it never became action. She waited just like he told her, quiet and patient.

It seemed like Nellos would have trouble with Argos at first. The war horse was well trained and used to his mistress, so he stomped and snorted as the magician approached, shaking his mane in warning. Seeing this, Nellos poured some herbs into a scarf from a pouch on his belt, then held it near the stallion’s muzzle. In a few moments, Argos became sleepy and languid. At that point the horse didn’t make a fuss when the sorcerer started going through Xena’s saddlebags.

Nellos went through her belongings one by one, checking for anything useful. He would pick something out, hold it up and examine it, then either toss it over his shoulder or stuff it back in to find something else. Not much wound up in the dirt because almost everything had some kind of resale value, but the odd bit of parchment, food, or sentimental item wasn’t of much use to him. When he found her coin purse, he held it up and shook to hear the pleasant tinkling of coins, then joined it with his own.

Once he’d finished with her saddlebags, Nellos led the drowsy, almost drunken Argos aside and tied his reins to a tree. With the horse secured in the same way as his captive, the charlatan patted Argos on the neck before going deeper into the woods to find his mount.

Xena sighed through her nose as Nellos vanished from sight, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

It was misery.

Her position wasn’t the most comfortable. Even in the relatively soft grass, it grew painful to rest on her bare knees, but any attempt to shift her weight off them put strain on her wrists and shoulders. It had also been a brisk morning, warm enough in the sun but in the shade of the tree she began to feel a chill through her thin shift.

Those pains weren’t what was really bothering her, though; they merely piled upon the most profound humiliation she’d ever felt. She’d been distracted when she was being stripped, given orders, but now she had nothing to do but dwell.

Xena’s brow furrowed sorrowfully as she tried to make sense of all this. She didn’t want to surrender and knew that Nellos had even more humiliation in store for her, but she couldn’t force herself to resist. It was like some sort of paralysis, where she knew if she moved she could save herself but couldn’t even take the first step.

She groaned gently and let her forehead drop against the tree.

The most frightening was the strange feeling of contentment settling on her. For almost her whole life vigilance had been her constant companion, but now that weight was slipping from her shoulders. She didn’t have to worry about fighting or watching her back or any responsibility other than submitting and doing as she was told. When Nellos returned it would be somewhat pleasant to do exactly as he told her, even if that meant offering her throat to be slit or her body to his bed. The temptation to embrace it terrified her.

* * *

The braying of a donkey startled her awake.

“MMH!”

Jerking her head up, Xena found Nellos grinning at her on the opposite side of the tree.

“My what big blue eyes!” he pinched her chin, “Hardly the look of a dangerous warrior! More like a girl child who had a frog dropped down her blouse!”

Still blinking, Xena was too shocked to respond, even when he playfully waggled her chin. She couldn’t recall the last time someone had snuck up on her, even when she was asleep.

Chuckling at the warrior princess’s bewildered expression, Nellos set to work untying her hands. It took a bit of picking, but he managed to loosen his ropework.

Xena grunted in relief when her arms were finally allowed to fall to her sides. Again, she knew she could—and even should—attack him. Even barefoot and in her undergarments Nellos would be no match for her, but though a part of her knew this it was more a passing detail she noticed than something she was tempted to do. She stayed on her knees, lowering her eyes, not even lifting a hand to adjust the uncomfortable gag between her teeth.

Nellos walked to around to her side of the tree, then bent down to take her wrists. She let her arms be loose and limp, allowing him to set her hands behind her back. He crossed her wrists, then lifted them just a bit so he could wind the rope around and around.

In some ways it was a relief that she was being tied up again. The nagging thought of resistance was drifting away along with her chance of escape.

“At the very least, you have been true to your word, Xena,” the rope rasped as Nellos pulled it tight, “You have been a model prisoner. I half expected your surrender to be a ploy…”

After jerking the knot tight around her wrists, he took her by the arm and drew her to her feet.

Xena rose and stood with her back to Nellos, but her head remained low, staring into the grass, subdued. On any other day, the warrior princess would have never exposed her back to someone that way, especially not an enemy or a captor. But now it didn’t matter. All she had to do was wait for his next command or direction.

She only tensed when he placed a sweet-smelling cloth over her mouth and nose. His other arm looped around her waist and hugged her against him.

“To be frank, it’s a bit strange,” Nellos admitted, “I wouldn’t have thought you could be so meek. Not without a good deal of punishment and training.”

Xena blinked in surprise. At first, she thought he might be attempting to smother her, but though the cloth was cloyingly sweet she could still breathe. Her captor did nothing else; he just held here and waited.

“But then again, I am Nellos,” he mused, “You are a mere woman. You were right to submit. Perhaps… you knew that all along. Perhaps that knowledge festered until it became too much.”

As Nellos enjoyed his explanation, Xena began to feel strangely light-headed and dizzy. It could have been from standing after kneeling for so long, but rather than her balance improving she was feeling more drowsy, clumsier.

“Nnh?” she murmured in surprise, eyelashes fluttering as her balance began to waver.

Nellos ignored her. He hugged his arm tighter to her stomach, pressing himself into her firm body.

“You simply couldn’t resist any longer,” he grinned, “You knew you were fated to be defeated by my hand. Only now did you face that fact and make your inevitable choice!”

Xena’s eyelids started to droop, her vision blurring. She didn’t understand what was happening and instinctively tried to fight her growing weakness, but her attempts were fitful and uncoordinated. Her legs buckled and she forced her knees to lock, then swayed back, her muscular backside pressing back into Nellos’ groin.

“Mmmh… nuh… unhhh…” she mumbled into the cloth, her eyes rolling back for a moment. She blinked them back into a certain degree of focus, but it was weary, her brow furrowing in misery.

“Yes…” Nellos chuckled, agreeing with her mournful groans, “These herbs are very useful in calming upset animals, such as your stallion. And they also do wonders on breaking wild mares, don’t they, Xena?”

Xena’s struggles melted, her body growing soft and tractable. She fought to keep her consciousness above the dark waters of sleep, but it sank slowly down, her thoughts circling the drain. In the same way her body began to sink, slipping down her captor’s chest as her legs folded under her.

“Nnnn…” she made a few soft, almost purring sounds as her expression softened into drowsy peace, “Mnn…”

Before she could slip down all the way, Nellos bent down and scooped her back up with a grunt, supporting her with his arm squeezed across her chest.

“No, no, no…” he chided her, “Not until your fire is entirely snuffed, princess. Then you can rest.”

Her breathing was labored and heavy, breasts heaving beneath her knitted shift. His hand came up to cup one, clasping it greedily.

“Let your fire go out, Xena,” Nellos chuckled, “You have no other choice. Accept the inevitable.”

It didn’t take much longer after that.

Xena’s eyelids sank down to slits. Her head rested back against her captor’s chest, her tanned legs slack and clearly not supporting her. With his hand molding her breast, Nellos could feel her breathing become slower and deeper, evening out as her body succumbed. What could be seen of her eyes was glassy and not seeing anything in particular. She didn’t understand anything of what was happening, the only sense she had at all was of closure, something important ending.

“Mmhh…” she sighed and let go, her eyes closing.

And then it was over.

Nellos felt it the moment his greatest enemy slipped into unconsciousness. The last tension in her body melted away and she went silent. He could almost feel the fighting spirit slip from her body with her final sigh, then all that was left was gentle breathing and a slow, peaceful heartbeat.

Nellos held her like that with a broad grin, then lowered the cloth from her face.

Xena’s head immediately flopped down, chin resting on her chest. Her mouth was still filled by her gag, but her jaw was loose. She was so tired and now she could finally rest.

With his other hand now free, Nellos reached down to take a firm leg. Cupping behind her knee, he used it as a handle to swivel her hips and quickly turned her around to face him. Her limp body immediately tried to drop when he let go of her chest, but he quickly caught her under the shoulders. Instead of falling to the ground, she drooped back over his arm, swooning like a fainted princess.

A thought struck Nellos as he bent down to get his weight underneath the unconscious Xena, putting his shoulder into her stomach. It amused him.

“Not with a roar,” he chuckled, “But with a whimper…”

With that he stood up and tossed the slack woman over his shoulder. Hugging his arm around her thighs to keep her from slipping off, still chuckling at his own wit, he turned to carry her back towards the horses.

While Xena had been waiting, bound to the tree, Nellos had been preparing for their journey back to Icaria.

His bridle tied to a tree, Argos stood more bowed than he had before, subdued by a lighter dose of the same herbs that had left his former mistress unconscious, while the sorcerer’s humbler donkey was tethered to the war stallion’s saddle. The donkey was old and worn down, looking even drowsier than Argos did under the heavy burden of Nellos’ tent and bulging saddle bags. Now the added to the animal’s burden was Xena’s armor and weapons, her iconic breastplate strapped down across the bedroll while her sword and chakram poked out of one of the bags.

Everything had been gathered and prepared. Now it was time for Nellos’ glorious return.

The charlatan thumped Xena across the back of his donkey like a sack of meal. She made no sound as she was plopped unceremoniously and then positioned so she wouldn’t slip off. Once Nellos had her where he wanted her, folded over the donkey just like his saddle bags, he took out a rope to secure. Just like the rest of his new cargo, the warrior princess was tied down for the journey.

It wasn’t a dignified position. Slumped as she was, her backside hiked up prominently, the angle threatening to offer a peak up the back of her shift. Her head hung down lifelessly, hair dangling down in a curtain of black to reveal the nape of her neck, easily mistakeable for a corpse if not for the fact that her hands were bound. Any passersby who looked long enough would see her bindings, and recognize this was a prisoner, recently captured, her own accoutrements stuffed into the bags on the back of the very donkey which carried her body.

After Nellos cinched down the last knot to keep his captive in place, he paused to admire the sight. Xena certainly didn’t look like a warrior princess any longer. He looked her over, admiring the backs of her thighs, the cascade of dark hair, the way her position hid her face, as if in shame. He held the image in his mind, noting details, smiling to himself; he would have to have an artist create a portrait of this moment once he had the funds.

Soon the upward protrusion of the globes beneath her skirt became too insistent to ignore. He smoothed his hand up the backs of her thighs, brushing her shift out of the way to find the shapes it hid. Firm and held tightly together, the swells of Xena’s bottom shone in the sun, their appearance almost cheery.

Sneering, Nellos drew back a palm and laid a hard smack across the center of the broad heart shape.

The loud clap startled the donkey, who brayed and skittered a few steps. The movement bounced Xena’s limp body, but neither the jostling nor the loud spanking stirred her in the slightest. She was nothing more than luggage, her backside exposed for all to see.

“Xena,” Nellos chuckled to himself, admiring the blush his palm had left on her bottom, “Warrior princess…”

He slowly shook his head, marveling at how fortunate the day had been. It was certain; his luck had finally turned.

Still smiling to himself, he finally tore his gaze from his slumped enemy and strutted toward Argos, swelling with pride. While the humble mule bore Xena, he would ride this fine war stallion. The beast was strong, pleasing to look upon, and would suit his triumphant return to the city.

Loosing the reins from the tree, he swung himself up into the saddle. Argos, who would normally buck anyone but Xena, was docile and cooperative, not even snorting or flicking his tail. It was as if he knew his mistress was done for and behaved accordingly.

Once seated, Nellos shifted himself in the saddle. He would have to purchase a new one, it seemed. It didn’t fit him, taller and broader as he was than Xena, but he could bear it for the journey. The important thing was that when he got to the city, he looked imposing and impressive. His new seat would suit that need nicely.

“Ho, beast!” he called, his theater-trained voice bouncing off the trees, “To Icaria!”

He put his heels to the stallion’s sides.

Drugged, Argos moved slowly, almost lethargically, but Nellos’ straight back and proud demeanor made it appear like a dignified march.

When the tether tugged, the donkey took a few quick steps to catch up, then kept the same slow pace.

Xena never moved a muscle.

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In a small village several miles in the opposite direction, Gabrielle leaned on her staff and stared down the road with a puzzled frown. Nose wrinkled, spunkily perplexed, she turned her head to squint askance at the sun. It was well past mid-day.

Taking a break from their day’s work, a few young men dusted themselves off and watched the blonde stranger. They knew all the pretty girls in their village and a new one was more than diverting enough to attract their attention.

Petite with sunny features, she was distinctly cute but nevertheless had a sturdy body rather than a waif-like village girl who spent her days sewing. She wore an abbreviated green bodice that fit her like a modest bra, leaving both her strong shoulders and tone-etched tummy bare to her navel. Her thighs and calves were likewise tanned and sturdy, with flanks and hips that impressed their shapes from beneath her brown skirts. Next to Xena, Gabrielle looked like a plucky young farm girl, but to these boys her outfit and figure made her look as exotic as an amazon warrior.

“Hmph…” the young blonde scuffed her boot in the dirt, narrowing her eyes down the road, hoping to see a familiar rider approaching from afar.

The young men dithered, nudging each other, egging each other on, before the bravest of the three cleared his throat and made his way towards the strange girl. While his two friends watched, he put on his most charming smile and strutted as confidently as he could.

“H-hello!” he called, then quickly tried again, “Greetings!”

Still leaning on her staff, Gabrielle turned towards the boy and smiled cheerily.

“Hi!” she chirped, always happy to meet someone friendly, “I’m Gabrielle!”

“Oh, um,” the boy flushed, having expected he would introduce himself first, “I’m Marcus! Pleased to meet you!”

Green eyes dancing merrily, Gabrielle looked the young man up and down, amused and slightly flattered at his nervousness. She could immediately see what he wanted, and her grin pinched as she restrained a giggle. She wouldn’t laugh at the boy; it hadn’t been so long ago that she would have been a wide-eyed village girl, staring doe-eyed at a handsome traveler passing through.

“Pleased to meet you, Marcus.” She nodded politely.

Marcus nodded back and hesitated for several endless seconds. He’d been so focused on appearing confident, he hadn’t prepared any further conversation.

“Uh, a-are you,” he cleared his throat, “waiting for someone?”

At that, Gabrielle turned her gaze back to the road and her smile faded slightly.

“Yes, actually,” she frowned, “A friend. Who should have been here by now…”

“Oh,” the young man brightened, “Perhaps I could… wait with you?”

Gabrielle shrugged, “If you like.”

She tossed a smile over her shoulder, then turned her gaze back to the road.

It was troubling her friend hadn’t come, but Gabrielle was more afraid she was missing out on some adventure than the warrior princess was in trouble. After all, if there was one thing she knew, it was that there was nothing Xena couldn’t handle.

--------

As Xena dangled over the back of the donkey, bouncing along the road towards Icaria, no passersby took much notice. It was just another captured slave, probably on her way to market in the city.

The only one who watched with any interest was a wild-eyed blonde in the lair of the Fates, cackling herself sick. She could think of no better way to spend the next 50 years than to watch the rest of Xena’s humiliating life, following a path of shame and slavery. And after that, she might watch it again, perhaps tweak it just enough to make it just a bit more interesting.

There was all the time in the universe to play and Callisto couldn’t imagine ever tiring of tormenting the warrior princess.