ForevaXena's FanFic . . .

Knocking On Forbidden Doors

by Jordan Falconer

Disclaimer: Xena, Gabrielle etc belong to MCA/Universal and Ren Pics, and anyone else who has an interest in Xena Warrior Princess, not me.

Copyright © 2001: The characters in here belong to me. All rights reserved. No part or whole of this work may be copied or used in any shape, form, or manner whatsoever without the author's express written consent. If you want to use them, all you have to do is ask … nicely.

Violence disclaimer: Yes, there is violence, so if you’re sensitive to that sort of thing, perhaps you’d like to move on. Also contains references to abuse and a ‘bit creepy’ alert. It’s a much darker tale than normal but worth it!

Love/Sex warning: 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 - move along, move along, nothing for you here ...

PART ONE
ONE YEAR EARLIER

Kate struggled to control a wayward sneeze, as Mrs Pendlebury looked at her expectantly.

“Well? Like it?” Pause. “Suit you?”

“I like.” Kate tried to keep her comments to a minimum, not wanting to encourage the saleswoman any more than was absolutely necessary. The woman had a dedicated gleam in her eye that Kate had learned through hard experience to be very wary of.

They stood in the foyer of the magnificent, run down old house. It was truly beautiful. Most of the interior was wooden, and despite it’s age, merely old and dusty, not termite ridden. Its sparse, once great furnishings  were well advanced along a slow slide to ruin.

In fact, just open a couple of windows, air the place out, run the vacuum cleaner around, and this place would be liveable.

Forget the kitchen and bathroom, they both needed a complete overhaul. She found herself suppressing a shudder at the unbidden memory of a rusty, cast iron bathtub with ancient, leaking fixture just above it.

The sunlight shone in through the glass panes in the front door, warming Kate’s feet, setting the dust motes dancing in the still air in front of her face.

Oh boy, was Kate’s private thought. I think I got it bad.

She smiled briefly at the estate agent’s pale blue eyes, that peered at her anxiously. That was good. Let her sweat for a moment.

Slowly Kate took a deep breath and led the way back out the squeaky, heavy front door, trying to think objectively, unable to hide the spark in her green eyes.

Upstairs was beautiful – five bedrooms, large and airy, one directly overlooking the front of the house, another, its mirror image, looking out into the ruins of a once beautiful garden at the rear of the house. The paneling, properly restored, promised great beauty and opulence. The afternoon sunlight shone bright within, giving it the appearance of peace and tranquility.

Perfect.

It was every writer’s dream of silence and solitude in this hidden retreat. After she made her millions, she would have an appropriately grand home in which to hold court. The thought brought a wry grin to her calm face.

She turned to look back at the house, eyeing its fading paintwork and ornate lead windows, allowing herself to slip another step towards a yes answer.

God, it was so beautiful and so romantic.

At once, a flash of movement caught the corner of her eye and she stiffened as she looked up into the window of what had to be the bedroom overlooking the front of the house. Mrs Pendlebury caught her suddenly alert stance and shielded her eyes, as Kate was doing, to try and catch what the young woman’s eyes were seeing.

“What?” The estate agent’s voice was quiet and politely inquisitive, though clearly interested in rationally explaining away any flaws a potential buyer might find.

Kate’s brow furrowed as she put herself back into the room. It had an ancient double bed and an ornate rocking chair sitting by the window. No. Empty and deserted, that was it, though who knew what creepy crawlies made their home in the stately old house?

“Nothing.” Kate’s voice was soft and firm. She turned to look at the estate agent. “Let’s go back to your office.”

Kate caught the swiftly stifled triumphant gleam in Mrs Pendlebury’s eyes and inwardly sighed.

~~~

Kate lounged back comfortably in the chair opposite the estate agent’s cluttered, messy desk. Mrs Pendlebury was just on her way over; after comfortably seating her prospective victim, she’d quickly gone up to reception to attend to another call.

Kate intended to buy a house, that much was certain. Which one to take? The first had been beautiful and modern, in a comfortable price range and location. The second had been just a little further out, not quite in as good condition as the first, yet more attractive because of its price.

The third one had been the run down one. It was by far the most beautiful. Large and spacious, most of the empty rooms would be wasted on just one person. It would also be quite costly to restore, and even in its present condition without a doubt far too pricey for her wallet. The problem was, of course, that the house had spoken to her on some visceral level, and she could not let it go without at least trying.

What the hell, she thought. It’s worth a shot.

Mrs Pendlebury glanced over to her and smiled, holding up a finger. Kate nodded and gave a brief smile, idly staring at the hastily scrawled post it notes stuck the walls of the cubical, the photos of houses and oddly artistic doodles on Mrs Pendlebury’s blotter.

Deeply engrossed in trying to decipher a complicated geometrical picture, Kate almost did not hear Mrs Pendlebury approach.

Kate shook her head, clearing her cobwebs, and smiled politely. “Pardon?”

The estate agent had asked her a question and she had completely missed it.

Mrs Pendlebury smiled and patiently repeated herself. “Could I get you a cup of coffee or tea?”

“No thank you.”

“Cold drink? Biscuit?”

Kate smiled politely and gritted her teeth. “No thanks.”

Mrs Pendlebury was not put off. She smiled and sat down at her desk, hands folded together on her blotter, air suddenly all business. The hazel eyes, while still kind, had a calculating glimmer in them that Kate did not care for at all.

She held up her hand to forestall whatever it was that the estate agent was going to say. “I’d like to put an offer in on the third house you showed me. How much did they want for it?”

Mrs Pendlebury smiled, a polite, correct smile carefully concealing any glee she might have felt for off loading such a rat trap on an unsuspecting, innocent young woman.

Kate’s eyebrows shot skyward at the woman’s response, much lower than she had expected considering the age of the house, the size of the land it was situated on and the actual quality of the workmanship put into constructing such a wonder.

“Okay, then. Offer them this.” Kate named her price, out of simple curiosity to see if the owners would go any lower.

Mrs Pendlebury inwardly winced. However, she was honor bound to present the offer to the present owners.

“Okay, let’s just fill out some paperwork, and call the owners.”

Two hours later, Kate was on her way out of Mrs Pendlebury’s office, floating on a carefully concealed cloud of air. Not only had the owners accepted her offer, but all parties had signed the contract, and Kate was well on her way to owning a house. All that was left for her to do was to produce a deposit and pay for the balance on settlement day.

Thank God for rich relatives and inheritances, she reflected wryly. Her parents were going to be pretty pissed when they found out.

A broad, happy grin lit up Kate’s face, and she cheerfully sang along with all the songs on the radio as she headed back to her parents’ house.

~~~

“YOU DID WHAT?” Roger Dupont screamed, spit flying from his mouth, eyes blazing. “WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO THAT FOR?”

Kate sighed internally, and tried not to cringe at her father’s voice. He was a volatile man, and had spent most of his time scaring the wits out of his eldest daughter throughout her twenty five years of life. All her other siblings had moved out while in their late teens, and now she was the only one left at home. That was not by her choice, really; Roger had spent most of his time trying to convince her that her mother, Anne, would be unable to cope with life if one of her children, Kate to be precise, did not stay behind to help her. Exactly what the ‘help’ was no one had ever really bothered explained to her.

Anne Dupont’s hand played restlessly with the crucifix at her throat. “Why? Why do you want to do this? You know I need you here.”

Kate looked squarely at them both, sitting across the kitchen table from her. It was their favored position for child correction, and Kate suddenly found herself twelve years old again, struggling to find words to explain to them why she’d been home from school late.

Well, she reminded herself, this is not school. I am an adult now.

“I bought it because I wanted it.”

“What’s the matter?” Roger’s voice was ice cold. “We not good enough for you?”

“No, Dad, that’s not it at all. I wanted some space so I could - ”

There was a sudden loud crack as Roger’s hand left a livid imprint on Kate’s pale face, silencing her.

“Space?” Her father leaned forward and hissed the word at her. “You don’t need space. I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous in my entire life. What you need to do is back out of this deal and forget the entire idea. Losing some money is just what you need to bring you to your senses.”

“You’re father’s right dear.” Anne leaned forward and grasped her daughter’s wrist. “Why would you want to leave here? You’re father’s given you everything you ever wanted. You should be more grateful and forget about this leaving home nonsense.”

Kate stopped to think about that one for a minute. Was that the truth?

What was her life really like? It seemed to stretch out behind her like one long, black road, full of treacherous turns and concealed ice. She never knew which embankment she was going to hit next. If she stayed home with her parents, that road would stretch out into the far flung future, and she would eventually be swallowed by oblivion.

Why now? Why the sudden desire to leave? Had her parents always been right? Would she be able to survive in the hostile, unforgiving world if she went out into it? Up until now, the answer had always been that she didn’t know, and did not have the courage to find out. The real question was why she had woken up this morning with the dramatic desire to change her world for the better.

Thinking about that one for a moment, she realized that wasn’t really the truth. She had gotten into her car this morning (and what a storm it had provoked when she had bought herself one of those!), wanting nothing more than to go for a drive in the late summer sunshine.

She’d often fantasized about what it would feel like to actually use her money, to go into a place, want something and actually have the power to do something about it. This time, instead of dreaming, she’d actually done it. Before she really knew what was happening, she was firmly in the grips of a real estate deal that gave her a glimmer of freedom.

Freedom that was a bit scary, now that her actions were starting to sink in.

“Look Mum.” Kate had her hands clasped tightly together, trying to still their trembling, embarrassment of her father’s slap stinging her, making her unable to meet her mother’s eyes. “I am grateful to you for everything you’ve done for me - ”

Her mother held up a hand, cutting Kate off. “Obviously you’re not, otherwise you wouldn’t be doing this. We took you in. You’re not our child and we still took you in, looked after you, nurtured you, and now you want to abandon us?”

It was an old argument. Kate was well aware that she was not the natural child of the Duponts. They had made that abundantly clear to her from the time she had been old enough to semi understand all that they kept telling her. “But Mum - ”

“Don’t call me Mum, you’re no child of mine.” The words were soft spoken, but her mother’s watery eyes were hard and offended as she stood and stared at her daughter one last time. She turned and left the room, leaving an aching and hurt Kate in her wake.

Kate stared around the kitchen, somehow larger and infinitely more peaceful now that her parents were no longer in it. All around the room were reminders of her mother’s personality – the floral stove covers, the loud gingham tablecloth, the dishcloth sensibly hung on the tap. Guilt and revulsion tugged at her, and she struggled to suppress them.

Slowly, deliberately, she got up and went to her only haven – her room.

It was small and functional – neatly made bed, uncluttered dressing table, blank white walls. Not one trace of her personality was in this room – her parents would not allow it. So many years had been spent staring at those walls, wishing for an escape from her prison. Her parents were not bad people, really. They were right – they had done their best to raise a child that wasn’t theirs, and they had done a good job at it. Now, though, it was time for the fledgling to leave the nest and spread her wings.

Kate tried to blank out the ugly scene with her parents, focusing instead on her new house. It was truly magnificent, a haven, a place away from her parents and family.

She could not wait to move in. A maximum of maybe a month, potentially a lot less if she could get the previous owners to settle earlier.

~~~

It did, in fact, take the full six weeks for settlement. Her parents tried to interfere with her using part of her inheritance to buy the house. That had been quite a tense twenty four hours, but her solicitors had been able to sort that one out.

Aside from their attempted embezzlement, Roger and Anne Dupont largely ignored their wayward daughter and her ludicrous quest for “space”. The frosty silence stretched out for weeks, punctuated by tearful recriminations and loud soul searching to the Lord for the reason Kate was so disobedient.

Kate bore the tension with stoic grace, privately praying that time would speed up and she would be able to leave her parents’ home in short order.

On the morning of settlement day, Kate awoke feeling as though a massive weight had been taken from her chest. Unable to hide the smile that graced her features, she steered clear of her mother, desperately wishing to avoid yet another round of beseeching to the heavens for the source of Kate’s ungratefulness.

Quietly, she packed her clothes and looked around the room she had called home for more than twenty years. Was there anything else she wanted to take? Any personal items? Well, not really, since she wasn’t allowed to collect any. Her new home would not be like this; if she wanted something she would get it and display it with pride so anyone who walked in could see it. Saying goodbye for the last time, she took her bags from the room and put them in her car. Once that was done, she went in search of her mother, to attempt one final farewell that would not bruise them both.

Kate stood at the door of the sewing room, eyeing Anne’s back uncertainly. Why was she even going to try talking to her mother again? Surely it would be better just to sneak out and be done with it? Suddenly a small voice spoke up in the back of her mind: God hates a coward. Go, do it and be done with it. Sighing, Kate hesitantly entered the room and delicately cleared her throat.

“I’m going now.”

Anne Dupont did not answer, just continued unpicking the botched seam of her latest floral creation.

Well, Kate reflected wryly. This was going well, wasn’t it?

“Um, goodbye. Thanks for looking after me for so long.” Simple and clumsy, but what else could she say?

There was still no answer. The back stiffened and the knuckles whitened, but Anne did not turn to face her tormentor.

Kate backed out of the room, thanking her lucky stars that her father was at work and not here to tear strips off her again.

She walked through the house to the front door, casting one final look all around, memorizing it, unable to hide the relief she felt at never having to see it again.

Quietly, she got in her car and drove off, heading towards her new home.

~~~

Kate couldn’t decide which room she wanted to take.

She walked to and fro between the room with the rocking chair and the room overlooking the ruined garden about twenty times, so it seemed. Both rooms were equally beautiful. One she would use to set up her computer in and use as a study, the other she would use to sleep in.

She had so much to do. It looked as though the house had been swept, and she decided that was because the previous owners had felt guilty about such a magnificent structure falling to rack and ruin. They clearly did not want her to see it like that, so they’d hired someone to tidy it up a little. Even so, she still had to go out and buy the basics to set up her kitchen, extra toiletries, and perhaps some more furniture to make the house just a bit more inviting.

Instead, she spent all her time wandering back and forth, just looking at things. It was almost as if she was in a daze, and by the time she’d managed to shake herself loose from her quiet study of her new surroundings, it was twilight.

The electricity and the phone had both been connected before she arrived – she’d seen to that early on in the piece – but she could not bring herself to unpack her computer. That was mostly because she still couldn’t decide where to do her work.

She was exhausted, she quietly thought to herself as she entered the front room, eyeing the inviting rocking chair with a slight smile. She would just sit down for a moment or two and close her eyes before stepping out for a bite to eat.

She settled herself into the chair and leant back. It was surprisingly comfortable, considering its obviously advanced age and the fact that it was made of solid wood, clearly to suit a bigger person. Her feet only just touched the floor, but it was enough to set the chair in motion. Soon, under its soothing ministrations, she was sound asleep.

Kate opened her eyes to a river of suffocating blackness. In the distance she could hear footsteps, pacing restlessly, almost angry. Men’s voices arose in shouts and raucous laughter, but she was unable to make out individual words. They terrified her in some formless way, and she had the distinct feeling that they should never know about her, so she shrank away from them, trying to make herself invisible.

Her whole body ached; legs, back and womanhood. Even her face ached, and when she ran her tongue around her dry lips, she hissed in pain at the thin, stinging sensation of an open and bleeding cut. Dread tugged and tore at her, a sense of anxiety making her want to leave the dark place.

She tried to sit up, but couldn’t do it. The agony in her legs and back soon had her gasping at the sheer magnitude of it, the tenderness between her legs causing her nothing but anguish. Tears began to leak from her eyes, quiet heartbroken sobs tearing through her chest. It seemed as though not one single part of her was not shattered and bleeding.

Why? A small voice gibbered and screamed in the background. Why was this done to her?

Clutching feebly at the wood in front of her, she cautiously felt with her fingertips to find a way out of her prison of darkness. Her almost fevered exploration continued for several minutes, as she carefully monitored the noises in the background, heart hammering mightily in her chest.

Suddenly, shockingly, the voices ceased, and it was as though the entire night strained to hear her. She became a still as a mouse, terrified her beating heart and raspy breath would give away her whereabouts. Then the laughter started up again, and she let out the breath she did not realize she had taken.

Suddenly, the restlessly pacing footsteps began again, and terror pulled her down firmly into its grips. Trying to make herself as small as she could, she prayed for oblivion rather than have the owner of the footsteps come back to her.

As they continued on, she began to relax. Surely all this meant she was safe again, at least for a little while?

Peace disappeared as suddenly the footsteps took on a more purposeful rhythm, coming towards her hiding place.

She sucked a deep breath into her aching lungs, instinctively knowing the almighty scream she was going to give vent to would not emerge as more than a sighing whisper.

Kate awoke with a start, heart hammering, the blackness of natural night around her a gentle, velvety cloak. She had always been plagued by a nightmare of being lost in darkness, but this was by far the worst. Sweat dribbled down the sides of her body, and not even the smooth motion of the rocking chair could lull her back into relaxation.

She did a double take. Rocking chair? Still rocking?

With a startled yelp, Kate leapt out of the chair, watching its smooth rhythm continue undisturbed for several moments. Unable to tear her eyes from the spectacle, she felt her scalp crawling in shock. Slowly she backed back towards the doorway of the room, eyes focusing solely on the single minded chair.

Suddenly her feet took on a life of their own, and she felt herself stumbling backwards over an unseen obstruction. Arms frantically windmilling, she had time for a startled “Whoa!” mere seconds before she landed square on her backside on the unforgiving wooden floor.

Spreadeagle, backs of her thighs resting comfortably on her suitcase, she struggled to gather her scattered wits and crawl backwards out of the room. Raising her head, she eyed the disobedient rocking chair more carefully.

It sat there, calm and still, as inanimate as any other normal piece of furniture.

Shaking her head, she sat up and stared at it.

Had she imagined it? Well, the night was rather dark, only a hint of moonlight to see by. The nightmare left a distinctly foul taste in her mouth and a disquiet deep inside her. It was a question best left for the light of day, so she tried to still her thudding heart and slowly crawled backwards out of the room, then charged for the safety of her second choice of the back bedroom.

PART TWO

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