A FEW MORE DAYS PASSED, and a few more nights, and Xena and Gabrielle made a joke of the way they passed each other, morning and evening, on their way to and from Nebula's side. It was good there was something to joke about, because Gabrielle was finding her enforced time with Nebula awkward and strained, and the Queen seemed to feel the same way. They tried to exchange pleasantries and talk about weather and gossip and what was the best kind of draw cut to use with a curved dagger and all, but they just couldn't seem to connect. Nebula seemed preoccupied, not in the manner of a woman plotting plots but in the manner of a woman with too many things on her mind. Gabrielle, initially tense and waiting for the habitual put-downs, the teasing, and the inevitable fencing over Joxer, found herself starting to feel an unwilling sympathy for the Queen. Yes, Nebula was irritating, yes, Nebula had her eye on Gabrielle's lov--friend, yes, Nebula was arrogant and overbearing and coarse and crude--but she was not the callous person Gabrielle had thought her to be after all, and more and more Gabrielle found herself wishing she could somehow bridge the distance between them enough to offer at least a little comfort. This was odd.

In fact, everything was odd, generally speaking. Gabrielle puzzled over it for a few days. Odd, not an unpleasant or ominous odd, but something missing. She was surprised, one night, to roll over from a dream and bump against Joxer and realize what: it was fear. She no longer had fear.

She'd had a lingering, hovering fear for years, not wanting to remember everything that had caused it, not allowing herself to recall those times, but it was always there. The fear that said she would remember all the horrors someday when she least expected it, the fear that said she'd never escape them, the fear that said there was still worse to come, the fear that said happiness couldn't last and all that waited at the end of the road was death or worse.

And now the fear was gone. Vanished, as if it had never been. Joxer saw her fear, knew her fear, and didn't flinch from it, didn't try to pretend it didn't exist, didn't tell her to shove it away. He simply accepted it the way he accepted all the rest of her--without reservation, without expectations. Without strings, like he'd said so long ago. So this was what he meant.

It meant safety. It meant no fear, and it meant some quiet warmth in her heart that was too subdued for joy and too enthused for mere happiness. This can't go on, she'd try to tell herself; something will happen, it will stop, may as well get used to the idea. But the part of her that reined her emotions in seemed to be losing its grip lately, and she had taken the bit in her teeth and was frankly running with it.

It'll come back, she thought, looking fondly at Joxer's relaxed, content face as he slept; the control will come back someday, but until then I'm bloody well going to enjoy myself while I can. And anyway, in a few days after the execution everything will be back to normal, and then...and then I'll decide.

Gabrielle curled against Joxer's side and went back to sleep, a sound, good sleep, with no dark dreams to disturb it.

-----

There, see, thought Xena, everything worked out fine. She thought this to herself rather than saying it aloud, because whenever she said it aloud Eve made that little frowny face of hers and Xena found herself getting into an argument with her own baby, which drew the kind of looks she had to drive off with one of her own.

Eve, sitting in the playpen Nebula had put in the anteroom of her chambers, made a grumbling noise.

"Reading minds is no fair," Xena said, annoyed.

Eve made the frowny face.

But really, it had worked out fine. She knew Joxer would perk up on his own after a while. All he needed was a little time. A little time, and a little...whatever. At least he was away from Nebula. Nebula tended to chew them up and spit them out, and she hadn't wanted that to happen to him. He deserved better. Maybe not as good as he was getting, but still better.

Gabrielle seemed happy enough, though, and if Gabrielle was happy about it then Xena wouldn't worry herself. Gabrielle was a big girl. She could take care of herself.

"See," Xena said aloud. "It did all work out fine, so you can stop making that face." Eve pouted.

Xena sighed. She'd gotten the worst of the job on the night watch as far as conversation was concerned, though Nebula seemed to be up and pacing about a lot lately as the day of the execution approached. Tonight she remained asleep--so far--but everything was a little off. Everything, Nebula's sleeping habits and Gabrielle's behavior and the Court's sudden agreeability and Eve's frowning--but it should all readjust itself to normal once the thing was done. A nice neat solution, actually, unite the country, silence the opposition...

Too neat. Xena shifted irritably and went over events again. Everything seemed all right on the surface, but... "Bah," she said aloud. Eve watched her with interest. "Politics. Give me a good damn toe-to-toe battle any day."

Eve laughed and clapped. Xena got up and lifted the baby out of her playpen. "Oof, you're getting to be a big strong girl, just like Mummy. Do you want to go to battle too?" There was a twinge of something too deep for sorrow in her chest. "There will be battles, once we go back," she said softly. Once the execution was over they would return to Greece where the gods waited for their showdown, and Xena's dread of what would then happen to herself, to Gabrielle, and most of all to Eve was growing by the day.

Eve looked at her mother, her wide blue eyes asking a question that Xena didn't understand..."Of course we have to go back," Xena found herself saying for no reason.

Eve continued to gaze at her. "Of course," Xena said. "Of course...well, just because, that's why." Suddenly feeling foolish, she put the baby down again. "It's the right thing to do," she said. "You can't run from a fight. You have to face it with honor. It's the way of warriors, they..." She barely stopped herself from finishing the sentence in time, and turned and walked back to her chair, suddenly fearing Eve would be able to read the words in her face. It's the way of warriors, she thought. They have to face what comes, even when...Even when it's certain death. For a moment she thought of Caesar, thought of the cold, thought of the vision that haunted her for over a year and yet she never turned back from it...

Then she regained control and put the thoughts away. She'd had to follow the vision, play it out to its bloody end. Honor demanded it then, and honor demanded it now.

"Mwah," said Eve loudly. "Mwah." Xena turned around and saw the baby drumming a small pink fist against the bars of her playpen, her expression determined. She looked like a woman who wanted an argument, as if she would stand up any minute and say...

And say what? You're not a warrior any more? Nonsense. Xena had accepted her fate long ago, but...

But what right did she have to visit it upon Eve? Couldn't it be said that honor demanded she take care of her child first?

Xena sat down slowly, testing these thoughts carefully, searching them for the note of cowardice she suspected underlied them but finding no sign. Didn't a warrior also have to look out for those who could not fight for themselves? She had to think about Eve now, and maybe Joxer as well. Could she and Gabrielle continue to throw themselves headlong at impossible odds and by doing so put the people they loved in harm's way? Was that honor--or was it selfishness?

Eve sat down. "Gooo," she said, and her tone was distinctly satisfied.

Xena sorted the thoughts and arranged them carefully to be looked at later and inspected for signs of weakness. But still--"I think I'm thinking too much lately," she said aloud.

Eve shook her head and made a fondly disgusted noise.

Xena drew a breath and sighed. Her instincts were pointing her in a different direction than they'd ever urged her before, and it was very odd. "It's the execution," she said. "We have to get it out of the way, and once we do, we'll all be able to relax and think clearly once more." Yes. "In a couple of days, it'll all be over, and then... and then I'll decide."

Eve looked satisfied with this, and turned to playing with her favorite wooden horse.