Love/Sex Warning/Disclaimer: This story depicts a love/sexual relationship between two consenting adult women. If you are under 18 years of age or if this type of story is illegal in the state or country in which you live, please do not read it. If depictions of this nature disturb you, you may wish to read something other than this story.
The word Jedezai pronounced (je de zye) is one of my own design. It means ruler: King or Queen
I guess I could call this alt/uber although the lines are blurb b/n Xena and Gab.
But it's probably more orig. fiction
This isn't really titled. I was only working on it to get my writing going. I guess if I were to call it anything it would be . . .
Moon7u © copyright 2000
Love and Need I:
"Do you love me?" Cor, asked almost, harshly. But there was no harshness in those cerulean blue eyes. They were soft and pleading. She had lay her soul bare, exposed, and vulnerable. Cor had no secrets left, all she had was this 'question.' And she deserved the truth and she wanted it. The hoping, the fearing and desiring had to be answered. There must be truth now. Any truth, hurtful or healing as long as there was truth. "Jorrel, do you love me?"
Jorrel's eyes darted about the room in panic. Cor's fingers lightly caressed her cheek, trying to ease fear and guilt. Their physical intimacy was an unlawful one. At least until Jorrel sat upon the throne as Jedezai to the Kingdom. Of course Jorrel, she had reservations about love between women. She had entered into this love affair a naivete, even though she had initiated it herself.
Constantly torn between her desires and the teachings of the Scribes of Righteousness, she had worn a roughshod path of advance and retreat over the heart of her General, Cor. "Cor," She spoke softly "Don't ask me that." Cor looked at her offering a small comfort with a sad smile.
"Tell me, Jorrel."
"I cannot answer that!" Jorrel snapped impatiently. Hazel eyes darkened with the sulleness of her mood.
"What are you afraid of Jorrel?" Cor held the sides of Jorrel's face in gentle hands. "Are you afraid of hurting me by saying no? Or are you afraid you'll hurt us both by saying yes?" A shudder moved through Jorrel's rigid body.
"Why Cor? Why must you asked this now?" She looked into gentle eyes and felt the pang of regret that she had allowed things to get so out of hand between them. She looked away from her General and pointed at the unkempt bedding. "This . . ." she spoke harshly. "Is what we have. This is all there will ever be. There is no room for love in indiscretions in darkened alleys, secret rooms, and stolen moments. No room. No time for love."
Cor, flinched as though struck and pulled away from the future Jedezai. Her heart ached. She was tired of Jorrel's answers, cloaked with riddles meant to mislead and distract. She moved to sit beside the fire. Jorrel clenched her strong hands into fists, but spoke calmly. "Cor, I want you. I think of you as I close my eyes to sleep and I awaken with an image of you in my mind. You awaken within me a passion so strong, that I feel I could shake the very foundation of the world with it. I've never desired another as I desire you." She moved to kneel beside the chair the General occupied. Her abdomen restricted with uncertainty. "I need you in my life." She offered a hopeful smile to her General in hopes that the woman would let the issue pass.
Cor looked upon Jorrel with a steady, but wounded gaze. "I speak of love, Jorrel; you speak of need."
"Are they not the same?'
"You tell me." Cor, challenged. Her head tilted upward with anger. "Say love, rather than need."
"Cor, don't." Jorrel warned, her face hardening. Cor's eyes widened in an instance of revelation. She gasped and closed her eyes against the searing pain in her soul.
"Say the truth." Cor demanded.
"Cor!"
"Say the truth. Or are you coward?" words, spoken through clenched teeth, hid fear and ache as Cor, prepared herself for the wound Jorrel was about to inflict upon her heart.
"Alright!" Jorrel stood angrily to her feet. "You want truth. Then you shall have it. I don't love you. I can't love you. I won't love you!
My heart Cor, doesn't have the ability to open that much. The best I can offer you is pleasure in borrowed beds and desire at a whim's notice. But it will never be love Cor. Never!"
Truth. Even Jorrel was shaken by it.
Love and War:
Cor, moved about the camp with effortless grace equaled only by her prowess on the battlefield. She wore her sword at her side. The blue Sapphire encased in the hilt of the sword, caught the sunlight and sparkled reflected a Kaleidoscope of colors in opposite directions.
It was said by many, that Cor, held the favor of all the Gods. No one would refute that. Most of the eyes that followed her trek across the encampment had witnessed her in battle. She was like a wildfire, the way she twirled in battle, her sword slicing about, cutting down the enemy. It was said that she could not be touched or marked by another's weapon. The Goddess of Protection, legend told, enchanted her dark navy blue leathers.
Jorrel stilled her rapidly beating heart as she tracked her General's approach. The sunlight danced around the woman as though it sought close proximity to the warrior. It seemed to Jorrel, that no matter where Cor stood, the sun sought her out and there it rose and there it set.
"My Lord." Cor knelt before the future ruler of Granesleigh. Her head lowered in respect. Jorrel could not resist bringing a hand to sift through soft hair. Hair soft as silk and white as snow. She would never know Cor's true age, for the ageless beauty was as secretive about her age as she was about the many legends that circulated about her. But there was one thing Cor could never hide and that was her heart. Cor, looked up into intense hazel eyes, her own blue orbs, warm and gentle as always, revealed the love that still burned fiercely in her heart for the Jedezai.
Jorrel, touched her shoulder lightly, then moved a finger to Cor's chin and caressed gently upward to the woman's firm, but soft jaw. "Stand General." Cor, stood to her feet matching the Jedezai nearly in height. Jorrel's skin golden from years of hard work in the sun was a remarkable compliment to the General, who was said to be the sireling of a Nubian slave woman and her master, an imperial guard to the ancient and once great kingdom of Thora. "You've come to talk me out of riding with you into battle." Jorrel spoke knowingly.
"Yes, My Lord." Cor set her chin stubbornly, but her tone remained gentle.
"I should be fighting beside my people. This is the battle that decides our future. They need me." Jorrel's voice was passionate as she spoke her conviction.
"Yes, they do need you." Cor agreed. "But as their Jedezai." She placed a gentle finger to Jorrel's lips to silence further protest. "I do not question your fighting skills, in truth you are match for me in battle." Cor, breathed in deep the scent of sandalwood and leather: the scent of Jorrel. Her heart ached in her chest, but it was tolerable now. The ache was as much apart of her as the battle fire that possessed her on the field. "You are fierce and strong in battle, My Lord. But I can't take the chance that some young bastard might get lucky with his sword or that some fool's arrow might find its mark." She placed a hand over the Jedezai's heart. "My attention would be divided. I can't do, what must be done with you there."
"I . . ."
"You are their kingdom." Cor, stepped back and gestured with her left hand to the people within the encampment. "They do not fight for their lands. They do not fight for their freedom. They fight for you." Cor, spoke with quiet passion. "These people know that you are their Jedezai and they will fight for you, if it costs them everything. You represent their right to live. Their right to love and be loved by whomever the heart chooses." She pinned Jorrel with an earnest gaze. "In spite of your own inner turmoil, you don't condemn them their own inner differences. These are all women born to love women: men born to love men, and these are their friends, and loved ones who support their right to be whom the Gods made them. These people were enslaved, imprisoned, beaten, and brutalized by a kingdom that preached brotherly love and acceptance. You heard their cries of mercy from behind the walls of the clergy. You set aside your cleric's mantle and freed these people. You Jorrel are their hope. For this, I pledged my sword to you in battle. Don't risk yourself for the satisfaction of self pride."
Jorrel looked upon her General with deep tenderness. Her heart ached that she could only afford this woman partial affection. Cor deserved someone who would shower her with an overabundance of love, but Jorrel's fears, instilled by years of monastery teachings, would not allow her heart to open and let this warrior woman in. Yes, she did believe in her people's rights to love and live in freedom, but she could not reconcile that rightful freedom as her own.
Something solemn reflected in the General's eyes caused Jorrel to ask, "You don't intend to return? You're not coming back, are you?" Fear squeezed the breath out of her as a vision of Cor's death sprang up before her mind. Cor smiled warmly and shook her head.
"I will not die in battle, My Lord, but I . . ."
"I know." Jorrel caressed a soft cheek with a gentle finger. She wanted to draw the General closer, feel the softness of the woman pressed against her. She could make Cor change her mind. She knew it, Cor knew it. It would only take a simple kiss. Jorrel wanted to make her stay, but deep inside she knew that warrior's staying would continue to devastate that gentle heart. Using Cor's own desires and love against her would be unfair. She pulled the woman against her in a tight embrace and whispered in her ear. "I'm so sorry, I did this to you."
Cor returned the embrace and spoke kindly. "Don't be sorry. In all my life, I have never loved Jorrel. I have known affection, but no one ever has ever owned my heart as you do. It hurts, yes" She gave the Jedezai a gentle squeeze before moving out of the embrace. "But it's liberating to feel such a well spring of emotion inside. My heart swells when I think of you. My whole being vibrates with energy in your presence. I have lived so many years, but until you I have never felt alive. I do not regret."
Jorrel, nodded. She couldn't help the joy of knowing that this woman loved her. "Where will you go?"
"Anywhere." Cor spoke with a smile of affection. "Same place I've always traveled. But know this, if you have need of me, nothing will keep me from returning to your side." With that she bowed and made her way to her horse. Her heart ached with every step she took away from only person that would ever lay claim to her soul. 'This.' she thought to herself as she mounted her steed, 'is where the lines of love and need cross.' She looked at the Jedezai who stood tall, beautiful, and proud.
She did need Jorrel, almost unbearably so. The soldiers fell into formation, ready to fall out on her command. Her eyes lingered on the Jorrel, memorizing the way the breeze caught up the long chestnut curls of the woman's hair. 'Gods I . . .' She closed her eyes for a moment. A part of her begged her to return to the fierce leader once the battle was won. But she could not bear to see the affection in Jorrel's eyes transform into pity.
In this, her love for the Jedezai was stronger than her need. With a nod, she sat erect in her saddle. Opening her eyes, she met the faces of her troops. "For the Jedezai!" Her cry rang out loudly and was met by fierce cheers and roars of battle readiness.
Jorrel, watched on with sadness and pride as the greatest woman she would ever know rode off into battle and out of her life.
Love and Need II:
Cor sat at the back of the tavern, unnoticed many of establishment's patrons. Once again, a General without an army, she was grateful for the peace that afforded her. She drank her ale, unmindful of the loud bantering around her. Freedom brought back life and laughter across the land. The new Jedezai ruled with compassion, understanding, and fairness, as Cor had known she would.
Still years' worth of rebuilding lay ahead after the long war that had nearly laid waste to all of the land. But the people clung to the task with joy and hope, knowing that the rebuilding of each structure was the building of a new future.
Jorrel lay awake, missing the presence of the General's familiar body in her arms. She often wondered what the fearless warrior was doing, now that there were no more battles to fight. After a year of peace had the woman found another to ease some of the ache in her heart? Someone to soothe her often, furrowed brows with kisses. The idea of Cor with another sent a pang of jealousy through her like a thunderous jolt.
Jorrel turned over and reached across the expanse of the vast bed and cuddled a pillow to her for comfort. She breathed in deep the scent of cinnamon and patchouli. She'd had the herbalist create an herbal mixture for the bed linen, needing to have that scent with her as she slept. She found it to be the only thing to calm her restless soul at night. Like now, she would eventually drift into dreams fired with passion, as her body recalled the feel and texture of Cor's flesh beneath her own fevered caresses. The taste of Cor's skin upon her tongue, the smooth suppleness of bare skin pressed against her lips. The intoxicating scent of the woman's arousal. Jorrel, whimpered softly in her sleep as she clung to the dream.
Cor's soft plea of "Love me." drove Jorrel's body to writhe beneath the sheets, as her dream self whispered hoarsely "I need you." Cor's soft whimper of heartache would give away to cries of pleasure as Jorrel sought to overwhelm the woman with her need. The Jedezai awakened abruptly before the dream ended. Her sheets, now sweat drenched and smelling faintly of her own musk, increased her already rapid heartbeat. She climbed from the bed and stalked the room, unnerved by the dreams that had haunted her each night since Cor had departed.
She had sought to satisfy her thirst for satisfaction with others, but had found her body unwilling to respond even to the skillful ministrations of the finest courtesans. Always it was Cor's face she saw when looking upon another. She'd given up on temporary satisfaction. Finding she could not even bear the thought of someone else in her bed. She could not tolerate the body of another pressed against her. Everything within her ached for her General. She needed Cor with a desperation that went beyond mere passion. She missed the woman's whimsical and infectious laughter. She missed the soft lilt of Cor's voice. She missed hearing her name spoken in that strange unidentifiable accent. The way Cor's tongue would roll the R's in her name.
There were so many small things about the woman that Jorrel had taken in with keen eyes. Things that made Jorrel's heart clench now with memory. Children loved Cor, in awe of her strange coloring. She was always patient with the curiosity that drove children and adults as well, to stare at her for long moments at a time. Cor could walk the streets and find herself surrounded by children, who pressed her for tales of her adventures and the woman would stop to favor them with stories and games. Her laughter as loud as that of the children as she tickled and chased them. It wasn't hard for people to love her. Her very presence evoked a sense of safety and peace that reached out to strangers and drew them in.
Jorrel wanted children. She wanted someone like Cor, to raise them with. But without her . . . 'Gods, what is this that I feel inside of me? Do I love her? Did I love her and refused to recognize it because of fear? Those fears hardly seemed worth living life alone, in this emptiness that surrounds me.' She looked to her rumpled bedding and her heart ached at the thought of returning to it alone. She tried then to imagine the days and years ahead and found she couldn't without her General. Not without Cor.
Day after day found Cor returning to the same tavern, needing the boisterousness of others around her to soothe some of the loneliness, She felt. "General!" People greeted her cheerfully when she entered the establishment. She nodded to them and smiled, acquiring about their daily lives. Engaging in small talk, collecting tidbits of gossip about the goings on within the palace walls such as new laws and lowered taxes. Erecting of a general hospice for the poor. News that warmed her heart as she recognized some of her own ideas being implemented by the beloved Jedezai.
Moving to her table, She smiled widely when she noticed her tankard of ale was already poured and awaiting her. These people treated her like family, but they allowed her, her solitude and for this she was grateful. She had just begun to lift the tankard to her lips when she felt the hush that came over the crowd.
Glancing up she saw the new arrival and stilled. It was the crest he wore that drew her attention. She could see him clearly, his eyes scanning the room diligently and she felt his urgency. Fear clutched at her heart. 'Jorrel.'
She set the tankard upon the table and moved from the shadows approaching the man. "General!" He gasped falling to a knee in respect to her title. He stood up straight and she begun to recognize him as Jorrel's first Messenger. "Baralius. My liege." He saluted her after introducing himself. "I am come from the Jedezai." At the General's look of concern he hastened his speech. "All is well within the kingdom." He assured. Nodding she took a relieved breath.
"Then continue, Lieutenant."
"I am told to give you this." He held out a closed hand. Cor extended her hand, palm upward and puzzled when he dropped a small charm into her outstretched hand. The charm was attached to a silver chain long enough to be worn around the neck. She studied it intently, noting it was heart shaped. She moved her fingers across it lightly, and it popped open, revealing it to be a small locket. An open-heart locket, her chest constricted with ache. She stared at the object in her hand, unaware of the curiosity of onlookers who gaped at the strange present from their Jedezai to the General. It was known the two had not kept company for a winter now.
Cor expected to find a small portrait of some kind within the charm's confined, but she found instead one word engraved into the silver casing that evoked a soft sob from her lips. "General?" Several people stepped cautiously forward with concern. She waved them away and slipped past the messenger to step out into fresh air. The rawness in her chest swelled and she was afraid to hope that this small gift could mean . . . It had been so long.
She clasped the locket so tight that it bit into the flesh of her palms as she blindly made her way to the stables to find her mount. She found her horse, but instead of leading it from the stall, she reached around its neck with one arm hugging it and buried her face against its skin close to its lowered head. The horse nickered softly as though in compassion and did not shy from it's mistress' need for comfort. Turning her head to the side, Cor became aware of another's presence.
The soft scent of sandalwood and leather blended with the scent of cinnamon and patchouli evaded her nostrils. 'Gods! Please! Please!' Strong, but gentle hands were at her shoulder, urging her to turn about. She did so, eyes closed, afraid that the apparition would disappear. She was pulled tightly against the lean, feminine body that she recalled easily to memory. Soft familiar lips pressed against her right ear, sparking longing, and desire. Three words whispered into that sensitive ear caused her eyes to open wide and her arms to return the embrace with hope and a love that would always burn fiercely. Three words whispered again erased a year's worth of agony and loneliness.
"Love and Need."
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