DISCLAIMER
Though the characters in this tale may physically remind you of people that you know, they are in no way affiliated with, or based upon, the characters of Xena and Gabrielle as used in Xena: Warrior Princess. It may shock you; nay, disgust you to know that I have watched barely three episodes of your favourite TV series (perhaps four years ago?) and so would not be able to draw upon those characters even if I wanted to. Not my fault, mind you, but that of the broadcasting authorities in my country. However, I am aware of certain physical similarities and therefore invite you to employ your own wild imagination to make the leap.

SEX/VIOLENCE/MUSHINESS/GOSSIPING/WINKING/STINKING/SHIRKING THINGS IN GENERAL WARNING
There's nothing bad here. Nothing. It's all good. Well, maybe a little soppiness alert? It won't happen again, I swear. I was watching this one particularly moving beer ad and then... Please, remember that all the events in this story are performed by professionals. Don't try it at home. Oh, and the subtext. It's there. It's sub, but it's there.

COMMENTS
You are most welcome to share them with me, as long as you adore me madly. No, but really. Please don't waste time with pettiness or snotty comments - karma will pay attention, but I won't. I'm a particularly oblivious sort of person. Constructive criticism will be welcomed with open arms. As will cats, lizards, flavoured popcorn, episodes of Monty Python, and Shirley Maclaine. Find me at: kalexy@webmail.co.za

AND FINALLY
I love you more.

CHAPTER SIX

The knight woke up lucidly two days later, gagging slightly at the roughness of her throat. Swallowing experimentally she reached out blindly and found a cup full of water standing on the edge of the table. Taking a few sips she winced a little as the cold water hit her empty stomach and then sat up with her back against the wall, blinking sleepily while she studied the room. If she was not mistaken there were more things in the corner than she had dropped there originally? Some were packages tied carefully tied with string, others bulging paper bags that leaned against the bedposts.

So. The princess has a propensity for shopping. Of course.

With a wry smile she took another sip and then glanced towards the window. It seemed to be late afternoon, but more than that she could not say. Tentatively she shifted a little, pleased that her body felt a little less bruised, though it still felt as if her chest was stuffed with feathers. Laughter drifted up from the courtyard, and recognising one of the voices she rolled out of bed slowly and stretched a little, hearing her spine click with satisfaction. Propping both hands on the little table she leaned forward and peered through the window behind it. The circular courtyard was filled with roughly hewn benches and tables – and it was on top of one of these tables that Helena was perched. Surrounded by a group of people, mostly men, she had just dropped her voice and Crispin could not hear what she was saying, but by the raucous laughter in reaction the knight could only imagine that Helena was telling a very improper story or joke. As the crowd roared with laughter the princess grinned impudently at one of the serving wenches and slapped her rear, causing another wave of hilarity. Leaning back and letting out a roar of laughter, the blonde girl glanced up briefly and met Crispin’s blue eyes, then jumped off the table excitedly. With a final comment to the complaining crowd she hastened into the inn, moving out of the knight’s field of vision.

Crispin had just sat down on the edge of the bed, still feeling a little light-headed, when Helena came charging in, her agitation apparently a thing of the past. Laying a small hand on Crispin’s forehead she seemed pleased by the moderate warmth, patting the knight’s knee abnormally affectionately.

“How are you feeling, Crispin?”

The knight licked her dry lips. “Much better, thank you.” Her voice was slightly hoarse, but it had regained its vigour. “You seem very well yourself, princess?”

“Oh yes.” Helena was practically bubbling. “Oh yes. The merchants have so many beautiful things here. And the food, oh, it’s glorious. I’ve made some nice friends, too; oh, I can’t wait to show you the… “ Her story dried up suddenly. “Oh, here I am prattling on and you’re still not yourself.”

With a small smile Crispin patted her leg. “It’s all right. I like you much better this way.”

Blushing a little the embarrassed blonde girl worried the pleats of her dress for a moment before her eyes fell on the packets. With a squeal that had a startled Crispin spitting a mouthful of water on her own shirt, Helena threw herself at the packages, searching through them.

“There's something here that I got for you!”

Wiping at the water down the front of her shirt Crispin grinned fondly. “I hope you got something for Toby, since he’s going to have to carry all of this.” Her hands stilled suddenly. “Oh. He’s not. You’re going back. I apologise... I forgot.”

Helena’s hands also stilled for a moment before she pulled a neatly bound package from the bundle and stood, handing it to Crispin. “Yes. I did say that I wanted to go back. Here. For you. I have to go and … get you something to eat. You must be hungry. Be back soon.” Stepping outside quickly she leaned against the wall dejectedly, unseen by the knight, and closed her eyes for a moment.

Waiting until the princess had walked out Crispin turned the package around in her hands a few times before she untied the string. It had been a while since she’d gotten a present, and it was with a sense of awe that she carefully unwrapped the paper. Lying perfectly folded within was a white shirt almost identical to the one which had been destroyed by the dragon. With a melancholy smile she picked it up and held it to her nose, breathing in as deeply as she could. It might only have been her imagination, but for a moment she thought that she could still smell on it the flowery scent that always seemed to hang around the princess.

When the princess strolled back into the room with a bowl of broth in her hands, both parties had composed themselves again sufficiently. Crispin had placed the soft white shirt on the table next to her and shifted up until she could sit with her back propped against the wall. Taking the bowl that Helena offered with one hand, the knight caught the smaller hand in her other and pulled the princess towards her, surprising her with a gentle kiss on the cheek.

“What was that for?” Helena attempted to mask her furious blush by turning away and fiddling with the waist ties of her dress.

“It’s to say thank you. For the shirt. It’s a lovely gift, princess.” Leaving Helena to collect herself a little Crispin gingerly began to sip at the broth. Though her stomach was empty it still heaved a bit at the smell of food, and after a few mouthfuls she placed it on the table, sliding down on the bed to rest her head on the pillow. Noticing that the bowl was still quite full Helena sat down on the edge of the bed, scowling at the knight.

“You’re not going to get better if you don’t eat anything!”

“No more tonight. I just need some more rest, I’ll be fine tomorrow.”

“Okay. I’ll let you get some rest.” Helena stood up only to have Crispin wrap a large warm hand around her wrist loosely.

“Helena? Would you mind doing something for me?”

“Of course, Crispin.” The princess nodded rapidly even though the knight’s eyes were closed.

“Would you sing the rest of that moustache song for me? That one you were singing before we found the dragon?”

“From the look on your face I’d imagined that you found my singing heinous.”

“No, it’s just … challenged. I’m terribly curious about what happened to the moustachioed nobleman.”

Sitting back down on the edge of the bed Helena allowed herself a small grin before she cleared her throat.

“Now remember. This time you asked for it.”

The next morning the knight woke sufficiently refreshed to get up. Aided by the moderately embarrassed princess she slipped into a clean brown pair of breeches and her new white shirt, tying her long dark hair loosely with a sliver of leather and wrapping her rapidly healing hands lightly in strips of linen. Then they wandered downstairs to find some breakfast, Helena assuring Crispin that the best place in the Inn would be the courtyard. Along the way the princess was heartily greeted by most of the people they passed. The glances Crispin received, however, were a lot less jovial and a lot more … amused. Pondering the situation the knight followed the blonde out into the courtyard, sliding onto a heavy wooden bench gingerly to avoid splinters (experience). Glancing around her she noted the other guests, about ten of them, at their various tables. Though most of them were having animated conversations, there was a tad too much peeping and giggling for her comfort. Scowling, she leaned forward suspiciously to ask Helena about it, just as the innkeeper arrived at their table. The tall rotund woman greeted the princess with a dimpled smile, and then studied the knight with a thoughtful expression.

“Would this be that knight of yers, then, sweetie?”

Nodding, Helena attempted to look innocent. Considering the smile which threatened to creep onto her face she wasn’t doing great.

“Crispin, this is Kate. The Inn belongs to her.”

Politely Crispin shook the large woman’s hand, trying to ignore the amused grin which had crossed the woman’s face.

“A pleasure, my lady.”

The woman’s rotund face seemed impossibly innocent and impish at the same time. “Not as much of a pleasure as you have been to me, Sir Crispy.”

The knight tried to ignore the sputtering sound emerging from Helena’s tightly clamped lips. “Crispin, my lady.”

“All right.” Patting the scowling knight on one bandaged hand Kate turned away, her shoulders shaking in a suspicious manner as she wandered back into the building. Crispin studied her irritably until she was out of sight, and then turned back to an overly composed Helena.

“Let’s hear all about it, princess.”

Helena fluttered her eyelashes innocently. “What’s the matter, Crispin?”

The knight leaned forward rapidly, her hands resting on the table between them. Her voice was an ill-tempered mutter. “I am being studied as if I were the two-headed hairy boy from South Pollster Island. And I’m quite sure I’m not, inasmuch as one can be, which leaves me to think that you’ve had a hand in this situation, princess. Now tell me about it.”

Helena twirled the hem of her dress around one finger sweetly and shrugged in a wholesome manner. “I am not sure that I see a situation, Crispin. These people are just enjoying their morning.”

Biting back a rather inventive curse word Crispin stabbed the table fiercely with her index finger. “If that is the case then I should hire myself out as an alternative method of joy, since I’m apparently giving the majority of people here that gift simply with the utter radiance of my marvellous presence.” Her eyes narrowed. “You’ve done something. Something bad. I know you have. Out with it, princess.”

Helena cleared her throat and plastered a beaming smile on her face. “Just to mention that we did not actually need to order anything – there are only two passable items on the menu and Kate knows which one I like.” Her punctuating smile hung in the air like a dead squirrel. The knight merely glared at her sharply. With a sigh Helena bit the inside of her cheek pensively, and then cleared her throat. There was still silence from the other side of the table.

“Fine! All right!” Helena threw her hands in the air. “Look, Crispin, I was only telling some jokes in the courtyard and then I began to tell of how you ... erm ... rescued me from the tower. It wasn’t my choice of story, somebody made me. I’m very susceptible to bad influences, you know, very young and all that...”

“Princess.”

“Yes, I’m talking here, for Athena’s sake! Anyway, even you would have to admit that the part where you rolled down the hill in your flaming armor and fell into the pond was very… “, the princess caught the knight’s eye and decided to alter her direction, “… okay, not very, but still quite… “, the knight’s blue eyes were decidedly frosty now, “… erm, well, it was at least marginally amusing. Not a solemn moment, exactly. Don’t you think?” Obviously the knight did not. Helena struggled on valiantly, ignoring the warning bells tinkling in her ears. “All right, well, maybe not for the blistery wet person sitting in the water. That I’ll grant you. But I just told the story. Reluctantly, too. It’s not like I made anything up, you know?”

From somewhere behind the princess there was a soft snigger which triggered quite a few others. Folding her arms Crispin sat back and slowly looked around the courtyard, her stormy eyes taking in the other occupants. Her expression was so devoid of amusement that it drained the laughter completely, leaving a whole bunch of people attempting hastily to be absolutely engrossed in tremendously astonishingly serious conversation. Lifting one dark eyebrow Crispin looked back at Helena, who was trying with every fibre of her being to be too adorable for retaliation. The knight drummed the fingers of one hand broodingly on the table and then pursed her lips thoughtfully.

“I would simply love to hear that story, Helena. Love to. But maybe I should ask someone else to share it with me so that I can enjoy the delicate nuances I’m sure you’ve been able to weave into it.” The knight sat back for a moment to allow the returned Innkeeper to put the platter of cheese and freshly baked bread between them. She nodded politely at the round woman. 

“My lady."

“Sir Crispy.”

This time Crispin did not correct her. Lifting a slice of cheese to her mouth she took a small bite and chewed it slowly, her eyes firmly on the face of the blonde woman sitting opposite her. Helena did not seem to be breathing. Putting the rest of the slice in her mouth Crispin chewed and swallowed with delight. Then, rising, she snatched a slice of bread.

“I’m terribly disappointed, princess. You realise of course that this means war.” 

Leaving the princess wide-eyed at the table she wandered back to her room, trying valiantly to ignore the giggling chamber maid who had to duck into a doorway every time she spotted her.

Chapter Seven