She could not do it, sleep that is. It seemed that just as Gabrielle had gotten over her insomnia, Xena caught it. It was enough to make her want to scream in annoyance, but she decided that was not a good idea, if only because such an action would wake Gabrielle, and well, she simply did not want to do that. With a shake of her head, which sent her long black hair over her shoulder in a dark wave, she softly got up from the bedroll that she shared with her friend and made her way to the other side of the fire and started to do an easy set of motions that normally she used to calm herself before a difficult battle, but had set aside after she found she was able to just focus for some unknown reason, mostly because Gabrielle was a calming presence for her, she just exuded serenity and wisdom. Her companion’s presence warmed her as nothing had before, least of all her violent lust for blood before she met Hercules, but Gabrielle was what kept her rooted.

Hercules was a nice man, but he was enough to drive her crazy, he just seemed… fake. It was as though his humbleness and joviality was a ploy used to garner sympathy from the public who would normally be quick to judge him for his past actions. He had killed his own family. That was a line that even Xena had never dreamed of crossing, even when under the Fury’s spell. No, he was insincere to her. Gabrielle however, she was undoubtedly the single most kind and generous person that she had met. Where Xena was quick to judge and act, Gabrielle was there to make sure that there was a voice of compassion where it often was hard to find.

Xena started another slow set of movements and continued thinking of what made Gabrielle, a simple bard, so special. She had spirit, and there was certainly intelligence and cleverness to her. But the thing that Xena kept coming back to were her eyes. Gabrielle’s eyes were possibly the most expressive part of her. Every flicker of emotion that she had screamed from those soft orbs. It was like reading one of her stories. Yes, her eyes were what did it. It was the conviction she saw that first night around the fire that had convinced her, and that conviction had never faltered, even when the rest of her had. Even as Gabrielle lay dying in her arms as the Persian army bore down on them, the conviction had been stronger than any Xena had witnessed aside from her own, and it was enough that tears had threatened to burst forth, and she had to leave to keep from crying because it was so unlike her. Crying was simply not something that a Warrior Princess did.

It really was an amazing thing what Gabrielle’s eyes did to her. And she sat down in front of the fire watching their owner sleep soundly for the first time in nearly two weeks. The bard tossed a bit in her sleep, trying to find the warmth that had left her moments before, and those green pools were unveiled, the tired but trusting gaze meeting her own. “Not you too. Come to bed.” She demanded sleepily, and patted the spot behind her.

Xena smiled and settled back into the bedroll behind her friend and companion, who snuggled close. It was cool that night, and best to stay together. Not to mention that she would end up like this anyway, with one arm wrapped around her waist, the most comfortable she ever got. “G’night.”