Ties of Love

by Natalie L

"J'anin! Jim! Come and see!" B'layr's voice drifted across the clearing to where Jim and L'anin were working on their new cabin. Jim looked up from framing a window to see his mate waving to him from the garden.

Putting down his tools, he stretched, and then covered the intervening space with long, purposeful strides. "Whatcha got there, Imp?" he asked, coming up beside his soulmate and wrapping his arms around the slender waist.

B'layr cocked his head to look up at the taller man. "The red fruits! See? Several are nearly ready for harvest."

"Tomatoes, B'layr. They're called tomatoes," Jim reminded him with a chuckle. "You've got quite a crop there; enough to feed the tribe. Are you planning on canning any?"

"Canning?" The elf looked up, puzzled.

"Preserving them for the winter in sealed glass jars," Jim explained.

B'layr shook his head. "The red fruits—tomatoes—" he corrected himself, "are too perishable. We will eat what we can and give away the rest. The seeds will be preserved for next year."

"I can always buy you more seeds when I head back into Cascade," Jim said.

"Will you be leaving soon?" B'layr turned in Jim's embrace to face him, a ghost of sorrow wrinkling the corners of his eyes and mouth.

"The cabin is nearly finished," Jim explained. "I need to get glass for the windows and purchase furnishings. I also need supplies for the long house. Autumn will be here in another couple of weeks. We need to get the buildings finished before the first snow."

"The Wolf Tribe will sleep comfortably this Cold Time," B'layr admitted, looking up at the long, narrow building adjacent to their private cabin. The long house was being built to house the tribe over the winter. With a circular central fire pit and a fireplace at either end, the building would be warm and bright during the long, cold months.

"I wasn't going to spend another winter in that cave!" Jim said with mock horror.

"A'mara will be pleased," B'layr said with a smile. "I have given him the other loom, and he looks forward to a comfortable dwelling to weave this Cold Time." A brief pause and the smile faded from the elfin face. "When will you go?"

"Soon," Jim told him. He bent slightly and placed a kiss on the shorter man's forehead. "I'll miss you. Why don't you come with me?"

"I cannot," B'layr answered with a sigh. "The twins would be too much trouble, and I cannot leave them yet."

"They're almost five months old," Jim argued. "Shouldn't they be weaned by now?"

B'layr blushed slightly. "Under the old ways, they would have been weaned at three months and taken from me to be fostered by another family. But you have spoiled me, my heart, and so I have spoiled our young."

"You make a fine mother," Jim teased. "I wouldn't have it any other way. But I will miss you. I was planning on leaving tomorrow."

"Why did you not say something sooner?" B'layr's face reflected his distress.

Jim folded his mate into another embrace. "That is exactly the reason," he explained. "I knew you'd be upset, and I didn't want you worrying."

"Then I must take you to my furs tonight, and we must make love until the sun rises. It is the only way that I will be able to tolerate the separation."

"Mother!" L'anin's call broke through the couple's reverie. "The twins are in need of feeding."

"I suppose I should be getting back to work," Jim sighed. He turned, leaving one arm wrapped around B'layr's waist, and led the elf back toward their unfinished cabin.

B'layr went inside to where the twins were nestled in a pile of furs. Unlacing his jerkin, he pulled it off over his head and then settled into the depression, one child cradled in each arm. Jim knelt beside his mate, helping to position the two elflings at the small teats that passed as their Bearer's breasts.

"Soon, you'll have a real bed to lie in while you nurse," Jim told him, brushing the wild hair from the beatific face. "I want you to have all the comforts and luxuries I can afford to give you."

"I already have all that I need," B'layr told him. "My soulmate ... and my family. Food and clothing. And now a shelter. Are you not satisfied with what we have?"

Jim looked at his mate—a study in contrasts: a strong, square jaw, accentuated by full, sensuous lips; a high, wide forehead graced by large blue eyes; and a small, upswept nose. The delicacy of pointed ears hidden amidst cascades of silken mahogany-tinted curls. A flat, broad chest with two infants nursing. The ability to become pregnant and bear children, despite an ample cock, the thought of which made Jim hard with anticipation. "I'm more than satisfied. I just want the best I can give to my family. You're going to love the bed," he said, his voice wheedling. "And I'll bring another for L'anin, and cribs for the twins."

"It is good that you made the cabin large," B'layr said with a chuckle.

"As Chieftain of the Ten Tribes, I think we deserve a little luxury," Jim defended himself. "I don't hear anyone complaining. I'll be bringing back things for the long house as well."

"No one complains, my heart. Everyone loves you," B'layr assured him. "I am just saddened that we must be parted again."

"For no more than two weeks," Jim said, trying to make it sound brief. "Meanwhile, I intend to give you a night that will hold you until I return."

"I look forward to it," B'layr answered with an impish grin, his erect cock tenting the soft leather of his breeches.

~oO0Oo~

"Steven will have a helicopter waiting for me at the campsite," Jim explained the next morning. "I'll call you on the two-way radio when I'm ready to come home. You can have a group of elves ready to help haul the stuff back to the campsite."

"We will be waiting," B'layr confirmed. "Please hurry back."

"On ravens' wings, my soul." Jim gathered his mate into his arms, kissing him long and hard. They parted with reluctance as Jim headed toward the old campsite where the helicopter waited to take him back to Cascade.

B'layr watched him go, his right hand massaging small circles over his abdomen.

"Does he know, Mother?" L'anin asked.

"I did not tell him my cycles had started again," B'layr said. "I will give him the good news when he returns. No reason for him to worry over me this early."

"How far along are you?"

"One moon," B'layr replied with a wistful grin.

"And you have not said anything? Mother! What were you thinking?" L'anin chided.

B'layr turned to face his firstborn. "I knew that your Sire would be leaving soon for the city, although I did not know precisely when. He frets over my health when I am pregnant, and I did not wish him additional worry while he was gone."

"Then your health and well-being fall to me," L'anin stated. "Come, you have done more than your share of the work today. Rest." He began to urge his Bearer back toward the unfinished cabin and the pile of sleeping furs that waited within its walls.

B'layr chuckled. "You are as bad as your Sire, Elfling."

"I am no child," L'anin scolded. "It is my duty as eldest to care for the Bearer while his soulmate is away."

"You will always be my baby," B'layr said, reaching up to pat the cheek of the taller elf. He allowed himself to be led inside the cabin and settled on the furs. "Bring the twins," he requested. "They shall sleep with me."

L'anin settled the infants in their Bearer's arms, and then watched as his family drifted off to sleep.

~oO0Oo~

"Steven! It's good to see you again!" Jim called out over the noise. He hurried from beneath the wash of the helicopter's rotors to embrace his brother.

"It's been a long while," Steven replied. "You're looking good. The outdoor life must really agree with you."

"I'll look better after a shave," Jim said with a chuckle. "Need to get some city clothes, too. I'll stand out like a sore thumb in these." He gestured to the supple leather jerkin and breeches.

"My big bro," Steven said with a chuckle. "Gone native."

"I can think of worse things," Jim retorted with a smile. "So, how's the estate holding up?"

"Actually, the investments have been paying off quite well," Steven answered, "despite a bear market. You have more than enough to buy what you need, with money to spare."

Jim slapped his brother on the back. "Now that's what I like to hear."

"You are coming to dinner tonight?" his brother asked. "Kallie's cooking up something special. I saw her poring over the recipe books this morning."

"Heaven help us," Jim laughed, holding his stomach. "Are you well-supplied with antacids, or do I bring my own?" It was a standing joke between the two men. Steven's wife of fifteen years was a lovely woman, but couldn't boil water without burning it.

"I can always send your regrets," Steven suggested slyly.

"There's an idea," Jim agreed. "I had hoped to see Simon this afternoon; maybe visit Major Crime and see who's still there. Could I take a raincheck on the invitation? How about if I take you, Kallie and the kids to dinner tomorrow night? My treat."

"Chuck E. Cheese?" Steven said with a grin.

"Hey, don't knock it! I love the bowling and air hockey!" Jim chuckled.

Steven pouted. "You don't have to put up with the noise and mayhem."

"True, I can turn down my hearing, and you have to watch the kids," Jim agreed. "But you have to admit, the kids expect it when Uncle Jim is in town."

Steven joined in the laughter. "Yeah, you're right. Pick you up tomorrow night around six?"

"Sounds good to me," Jim agreed. "I'd like to get home now and get cleaned up. I could use a hot shower and a shave."

"The loft is just like you left it," Steven told him. "When I heard you were coming, I hired a cleaning service to get it spotless for you."

"You did tell them to use odorless cleaners, right?"

Steven smiled and shook his head. "Nothing to bother your delicate Sentry sensibilities," he confirmed.

"Okay. See you tomorrow night, then?"

"Right." Steven dug in his pocket, pulling out an extra wallet. "Don't forget this. I put a little cash in it, and your credit card. ID's in there, too, but it's a bit outdated."

Jim looked through the contents: $200 in cash, a platinum American Express card and a driver's license that was about to expire. "This will do fine. Thanks, Steven." With one last pat on the back, Jim left his brother and climbed in a cab. "Take me to 852 Prospect," he told the driver.

~oO0Oo~

Jim surveyed the spotless loft. It had been over a year since he had last set foot here. Strange, but it no longer felt like home. He wandered around, fingering the plants which B'layr had begged him to buy, and which had been watered and tended weekly by Steven's wife. As he made his way around the room, his stomach signaled its displeasure.

Wandering over to the kitchen, Jim opened the refrigerator, deciding to fix a light lunch before cleaning up. Freshly sliced deli meats filled one drawer in the appliance. Cracked wheat bread and condiments lined another shelf. Milk and juices were there, as well, along with some deli-prepared, ready-to-eat vegetables. He built himself a ham sandwich, filled his plate with the raw veggies and a small bowl of dip. Passing by the counter, he snagged a bag of chips and took the food to the table. He returned for a glass of juice and to put some coffee on to brew.

As he settled down to eat, there was a knock at the door. Puzzled, Jim got up to answer the summons, and was pleasantly surprised to see Simon Banks standing out in the hall. "Simon!" he greeted, shaking the man's hand and pulling him into the apartment. "Come on in. I was just having lunch. Can I get you anything?"

"Got any coffee?" the Police Commissioner asked.

"It should be ready in a couple minutes," Jim answered, gesturing toward the brewer.

Simon looked around the loft briefly, his gaze coming to rest on the owner. He shook his head in disbelief. "The place looks like you never left," he commented. "But you look like you don't belong here, anymore." He followed Jim back to the table, sitting down opposite his ex-detective.

"It doesn't feel like home," Jim admitted, taking a bite of his sandwich. After a moment to chew and swallow, he looked up at his friend. "How did you know I was here? I just got in a couple hours ago."

"Steven called. I was in the area, so I thought I'd drop by and see how you're doing."

"I was planning to stop by your office after I got cleaned up a bit."

"Well, you sure do need that," Simon agreed, studying his friend closely.

Simon's gaze became uncomfortable. "Something wrong?" Jim asked between bites. "Did I grow a third eye, or something?"

"No. No...." Simon spoke slowly, still studying the man across the table. "You look different."

Jim grinned. "Well, after a year out in the forest with none of the amenities of the big city, I suspect I do look a little rough around the edges."

"No, it's more than that," Simon mused. "It's not so much that you look different, as that you don't look different." He paused. "I think. I don't know," he spluttered. "Have you looked in a mirror lately?"

"Haven't had a chance," Jim said around a mouthful of sandwich.

Simon rose and circled the table, grabbing Jim's arm and levering him out of his seat. "I want you to see something," he said as he dragged Jim toward the bathroom. "You tell me if I'm right or just going crazy." He shoved Jim through the bathroom door and in front of the mirror over the sink. "What do you see?"

"A man badly in need of a shave?" Jim answered, amused by the Commissioner's antics.

Simon reached around him, opening the medicine cabinet behind the mirror. He pulled out a razor and a can of foam. "Shave," he ordered.

Jim picked up the can, shaking it and spritzing some foam into the palm of his hand. He lathered his face, and then began to slowly and carefully scrape away at the year's growth of beard. "This is the most hair I've had on my face since my days in Vice," he commented, adding some more foam to a stubborn spot on his chin. When he was finally finished, he splashed his face with water, cleaning the excess foam and beard stubble from his face. He dried with a towel Simon handed him, and then looked in the mirror once more. "What is it you were expecting me to see?"

"Is that the face of a 67-year-old man?" Simon asked pointedly.

Jim looked again, surprise registering on his face. A hand lifted to stroke the smooth planes of his jaw. "I-I look like I'm forty," he said with awe in his voice. "But that's not possible, is it?" He turned to the Commissioner.

Simon shook his head. "Not in any book I've ever read," he agreed. "The forest life must really agree with you."

Pushing past his friend, Jim headed for the living room, flopping down on the couch to think. Simon wandered over, sitting on the love seat opposite him. "You know, B'layr said I had elven blood in my veins," Jim recalled. "It's the reason I have the heightened senses."

"So somewhere back in your genealogy, one of your great-great-greats was an elf?" Simon was incredulous.

"Yeah. When B'layr came here to give birth to L'anin, he discovered it in the book of my family tree," Jim explained. "There was one great-something grandfather in there that was supposedly an elf with the Sentry powers. He fell in love with a human woman and left the tribes to live among men." He looked thoughtful, casting back in his memory for an idea he remembered hearing about long ago.

"So, somewhere in my genetic makeup, I have genes from my elven ancestor. That heredity is reflected in my heightened senses," he mused. "I remember my biology professor in college talking about recessive genes; he also mentioned dormant genes."

"You're losing me here," Simon interjected, settling back against the cushions of the couch.

Jim began to warm to his subject. "Only five to ten percent of the human genome makes up what you see," he explained. The other 90 to 95 percent is 'junk DNA'. Of that percentage, there are many dormant genes which switch on at certain times in our lives, or not at all. A number of these are responsible for inherited diseases, et cetera. Something in the environment turns them on."

"Yes?" Simon asked, torn between boredom and intrigue.

Leaning forward, Jim rested his folded hands on his knees and caught Simon's gaze. "When I first returned to the forest, I, um ... I managed to get B'layr pregnant again right away," he admitted, blushing. Simon grunted, a smile curling the corners of his mouth. "Anyway," Jim continued, "there was this Blessing ceremony. Afterward, B'layr went for a ritual cleansing in a sacred pool not far from the camp. I went with him. There was something different about that water." He spread his hands and waved them around. "I don't know what it was. We were swimming, and I submerged for a while. While I was down, I swallowed some of it."

Simon waited for his friend to continue. When nothing was immediately forthcoming, he commented. "It was just water, Jim. What are you getting at here?"

"I don't know," Jim admitted. "It tasted funny. I didn't think anything of it at the time. I thought it might be contaminated by minerals, but it wasn't anything I could identify." He sat up straighter, his hands becoming more animated. "What if something in that sacred pool 'woke up' the dormant elf genes in me? The elves have a much longer lifespan than we do. Maybe that's what's responsible for this apparent reversal of aging?"

Simon shook his head. "I don't know, Jim. That sounds pretty far out, if you ask me."

"I'm grasping at straws here, Simon," Jim pleaded. "But you have to admit, it makes more sense than 'magic'. Besides, B'layr insists there is no such thing as magic among his people."

"Well, considering we can't just go to Rainier and check this out, I guess I'll have to accept your version of this miracle ... for now," Simon said. He relaxed, smiling at his friend and changing the subject. "You haven't had time to stop by the PD, have you?"

"No, sir," Jim answered. "I was thinking of doing that after my shower. Anybody left there that I know?"

"Joel's about to retire," Simon told him. "Had you heard about his new grandson?" Jim shook his head. "Be sure to ask, but be prepared to look through an entire photo album of pictures," he warned.

Jim chuckled. "Did anything ever happen between Rafe and that woman he was seeing? What was her name again? Maison?"

"Oh, not much," Simon said casually. "They just got married last June."

"You're kidding me!" Jim sat back and chuckled. "I never thought a woman would ever corral Mr. GQ. I guess I'd better get down to the station and catch up on the news."

Simon stood, followed by Jim. "Guess I'd better be getting back to the grindstone," he said. "I hadn't meant to stay this long. Sure was good seeing you again. Don't be so scarce, all right?"

"I'll be in town a couple weeks," Jim told him. "It's difficult getting back and forth from the forest to the city. Besides," he added, "things just aren't the same here anymore. The forest is my home."

"Hope to see you again, before you go back," Simon said as he walked through the door into the hall.

"I'll be around," Jim assured him. "I've got a lot of shopping to do while I'm here, but I'll check in occasionally."

"Good." Simon turned to go, and then turned back. "I've missed you, you know."

"Yeah," Jim agreed with a nod and a smile. "See you later."

Alone again, Jim turned toward the kitchen to clean up the dishes from lunch, and then headed to the bathroom for his long-delayed shower.

~oO0Oo~

"Hey, man! Good to see you!" Henri Brown pounded Jim's back.

"Hey, H," Jim returned the greeting. "Where is everybody?"

"Mostly out to lunch," Brown told him, glancing up at the clock. "But they should be back soon. Masters and Soong are out on a case, but Rafe and Connor are around," he added.

Jim chuckled. "Megan's temporary officer exchange program became pretty permanent, didn't it? Who would've thought?"

"She's happy," Brown informed him. "Never thought that woman'd settle down, though. From what I hear tell, she's quite the domestic at home." He held a hand to his mouth in a conspiratorial gesture. "Just don't let that get out, or she'll nail our hides to the wall."

"She won't be hearing it from me," Jim agreed, his hand placed over his heart for emphasis.

"Jim!" The booming voice caused both men to turn around. "When did you come back to town? Is B'layr with you?"

"Joel! Good to see you again," Jim greeted the captain with a handshake. "Just got in this morning. I have a little shopping to do. B'layr and I built a cabin, and I came to buy some furnishings. B'layr stayed home," he added. "We have five-month-old twins to care for, and he didn't want to travel."

"Congratulations!" Joel's hand slipped into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. "Speaking of kids, Shari just had a baby boy." He opened the wallet, and a cascade of pictures tumbled out, all protected in a strip of plastic sleeves. "I'm a proud grandpa."

"So I heard," Jim said, picking up the end of the strip and admiring the pictures. "Congratulations to you, too. He's a good looking boy."

"I've got more pictures in the office," Joel said, herding the ex-detective in the right direction. Jim was amused, but expected the reaction, thanks to Simon's timely news. Once they were in the office, Taggert turned and looked at Jim. "What happened to you? You look like you haven't aged a day in the past twenty-five years."

"Good genetics?" Jim shrugged. "Simon and I were discussing that earlier today. There's elven blood in my ancestry. We figured that something must have kicked in when I went back to live with them."

"Well, whatever it was, you look good," Joel complimented. "Now, here's the album with Joey's pictures." He opened the book and began pointing out the baby and his family in various situations. Jim patiently admired the photos, nodding and mumbling agreement where it seemed appropriate. He was relieved when the door to the office opened.

"Hi, mate!" Megan threw herself into Jim's arms. "Good to see you again! You're looking fit." She pushed back from the impromptu embrace to give him a critical once over.

"You're looking pretty good, yourself," Jim countered, moving the attention from himself. "I hear that you finally allowed yourself to settle down."

"Patrick's a dear," Megan agreed. "Married life seems to suit me. Too old for a baby, though. We've talked about adopting an older child." As she prattled on, Jim glanced over her shoulder to see Rafe making his way across the bullpen.

"I'm sure you'd make a great mother," Jim told her; not at all sure he believed it himself. "I'm glad you're happy."

"Oh, very," she agreed.

"Hey, Jim!" Rafe crowded in behind Megan, finishing off the small group of old friends and coworkers. "Where's B'layr? I thought the two of you were inseparable."

Jim had begun to question letting his entire circle of friends know about the elf, but it had been inevitable. His life was too tied up in both worlds to not trust the friends in this one. "He stayed home," Jim repeated. "We have infant twins that need care, and B'layr doesn't travel well."

"Motion sickness?" Rafe wondered.

"Fear of heights," Jim chuckled. The entire group shared the amusement, trying to picture the elf in the small and noisy confines of a helicopter.

"So, how long are you staying in town?" Joel asked.

Jim glanced around at his friends. "No more than a couple weeks. I've got to buy some stuff for the new cabin. I thought maybe I'd see if I could find something special for B'layr while I'm at it. I really hate to leave him alone for very long."

"Awww..." Megan teased. "From what I hear, your mate is more than capable of taking care of himself. I think you're the one that can't stand the separation." Jim blushed. "Ah hah! Thought so," Megan crowed. "You're in love, Jim Ellison. Just as topsy-turvy as the day you first met."

"Busted!" Rafe chimed in. "Hey, man, I know the feeling."

Relieved to steer the conversation away from himself, Jim congratulated the youngest man in their group. "I hear you tied the knot last June. How's married life treating you?"

This time it was Rafe's turn to blush. Brown chimed in. "He's still on his honeymoon," he teased.

"I hate to break this up," Joel finally interrupted, "but we've got work to do, people. Jim, it's really great seeing you again. You'll stop by again before you leave? Maybe we can all get together after work down at Murphy's for a beer."

"Sounds good," Jim said, turning toward the office door with a smile. "All you lazy slackers, get back to work!" He held the door and motioned outward with his hand until the small group had all exited the room. "It's good to see everybody again, Joel. Take care."

"You too, Jim."

As Jim walked through the bullpen toward the doors to Major Crime, all eyes were following him. It was with relief that he finally boarded the elevator and headed down to the parking garage.

~oO0Oo~

Time flew by quickly for the ex-detective. Dinner with Steven and his family at the local kids' pizza joint had been hectic, but fun. His brother had married later in life, but the enthusiasm he held for his family transcended age. Two pre-teen boys and a toddler daughter had brought out the best in the man. The years fell away as he cavorted with his children. When he finally returned to the table to rest, pride had shown brightly in his eyes.

Jim had missed the growing years of his eldest son, and he vowed to make the most of raising the twins. He spent time playing with his nephews and niece, crawling through the playground as much as his size permitted. He wouldn't admit it to anyone but B'layr, but he was a soft touch where kids were concerned.

Stevie, his brother's eldest son, was a master of air hockey, and had given his uncle a real run for his money. By the end of the evening, all three kids had fistfuls of gaming tickets to turn in for cheap prizes. They were thrilled.

"I never would have thought you had it in you," Steven remarked as Jim came to sit down, snagging the last piece of sausage pizza.

"What?" Jim asked, turning an innocent look on his younger brother as he munched.

"The way you are with the kids," Steven clarified. "You're just like a big kid yourself."

"Well, yeah..." Jim admitted. "We didn't get to be kids when we were young," he reminded his brother. "I don't see the harm in enjoying myself a little now."

"You're spoiling them rotten," Kallie complained good-naturedly.

"That's the best part of being an uncle," Jim said, grinning. "I get to have all the fun, and then turn them back over to their parents."

"I'll see that you pay for this, Jim," Steven warned.

"What do you mean?" Jim continued his innocent act. "The night was already on me, anyway."

Steven just groaned, dropping his head into his hands and trying to suppress the laughter. "You win. Going shopping tomorrow?"

Jim nodded. "I have to get everything I can, and get the delivery to the airport within another ten days. I promised B'layr I wouldn't be gone more than two weeks."

"What all do you have to get?"

"Two beds, a crib, a dining set, perhaps a couch and some comfortable chairs," Jim listed.

"TV? Lamps?" Steven asked.

"No electricity," Jim said, shaking his head. "We've got a huge fireplace for heat and light. I'd better stock up on candles and lamp oil, though."

"You're really roughing it, eh?" Steven asked with a grin.

"Not compared to last winter's sleep-over in a cave," Jim said, grimacing at the memory.

"Are you picking up anything for the rest of the tribe?"

Jim shook his head. "Not a lot. The elves still prefer their sleeping furs ... and sharing them," he added. "They have three large fireplaces for heat and warmth, and that new loom I bought for B'layr last fall. I think I'll probably get a bunch of board games and puzzles to keep them occupied, but otherwise, they're happy with the old ways."

Steven chuckled. "I'll bet one thing they're not sorry to give up is that cave."

"Got it in one," Jim said with a nod. "They've been very enthusiastic about building the long house. I do need to pick up glass for the windows, though," he added thoughtfully. "Guess I'm going to have a busy next few days."

"I'll go round up the kids," Kallie offered.

As she moved off, Steven stood also. "Thanks for tonight, Jim. It was good getting to spend some time with you again."

"You're not going to go all mushy on me now, are you?" Jim asked. "I still need you to keep a level head about managing my finances."

"You have nothing to worry about," Steven assured him. "You could move back here and live like a king."

"That's what I like to hear." Jim slapped his brother on the back and headed toward the door of the establishment. He held it open for Kallie and the kids to pass through then followed them out to the waiting mini-van. Steven unlocked the doors with the remote key entry and everyone piled in. Within minutes, he had pulled up in front of 852 Prospect.

"Guess this is it," Steven said, waiting as Jim got out of the vehicle. "Will I be seeing you again before you leave?"

"You can count on it," Jim promised, closing the door and waving as the van pulled away.

Weary from his evening of play, Jim entered the building, taking the elevator up to the third floor. He went straight to the upstairs bedroom, pulling off his clothes as he went. Collapsing onto the bed, he found that sleep eluded him. The bed was too large and empty. He longed for the warm arms and bright spirit of his soulmate.

~oO0Oo~

"J'anin will be pleased when he returns," L'anin said, gazing at the cabin and long house which were both finished, except for the panes of glass his Sire had promised to bring.

"Yes," B'layr agreed. "And a bounty of the red fruits and vegetables from the garden will provide us with a feast when he returns."

"How much longer?" L'anin asked.

"He has been gone for eight risings of the sun," B'layr answered, checking the makeshift calendar he used to record the days that Jim was gone. "It should not be long now."

"You miss him."

"He is my heart."

"You are his soul."

B'layr placed his hands over his still-flat belly and sat down on the pile of furs. "It is hard when soulmates are separated," he confessed.

"Especially when the Bearer is with child," L'anin agreed. "Tell me what you need, and I will fetch it for you."

"Would you make me a tea for the nausea?" B'layr asked. "The sickness is strong with this child."

"Of course, Mother. I will return shortly." L'anin hurried out of the cabin in search of the fresh herbs needed for the requested drink.

B'layr tipped onto his side, curled around his arms that held tight to his belly. The nausea gripped him, causing him to retch with dry heaves. There was nothing left to throw up. He had put up a strong front for L'anin, not wanting his fussy son to dote too heavily on him. There was work to be done, and B'layr needed to contribute his fair share. In the absence of his soulmate, he had become the acting Chieftain of the Ten Tribes.

L'anin returned fifteen minutes later with the hot tea. He helped B'layr to sit and steadied his Bearer's hand as he sipped at the hot brew. "Slowly, Mother; the infusion is strong, do not take it too quickly."

"I could not, if I tried," B'layr answered with a weary smile. "It is too hot to drink."

L'anin quickly pulled the cup away. "I am sorry. Let me add some water to cool it down."

B'layr reached out a hand to stop his son. "Do not be bothered. It will cool to a reasonable temperature soon," he assured the young elf. "Do not weaken the medicine unnecessarily."

As B'layr lay on the soft furs, waiting for the tea to cool, the twins awoke and began to fuss. He groaned and rolled to his knees, standing on shaky legs to go tend the infants.

"I will get them, Mother," L'anin said, moving quickly across the room.

B'layr caught up to him as he bent over the elflings. "You pamper me," he scolded. "Just because I do not feel well, does not mean I am incapable of work."

"J'anin would not want you stressing yourself when you are ill," L'anin pointed out. "It is nothing for me to bring the young ones to you. You still have the responsibility to see that they are fed. Return to your furs, and I will bring them to you."

"We will bring one each," B'layr compromised, reaching into the nest of furs for K'tiri. "She still is a wonder to me," he whispered. "Only J'anin could have fathered her." He walked slowly back to his bed, snuggling down with the infant against one erect teat.

L'anin knelt beside him, placing T'erin at the other nipple. "You are blessed. I pray the gods will grant me a soulmate someday, so that I may be a Bearer like my mother."

B'layr chuckled. "Since your Sire has put the Bearer above himself, the position is now coveted by many. Do not rush what you wish for; it will come in the fullness of time. You are young, and a Sentry. Already you hold status most would never dream of having."

"But this..." L'anin stroked the silken hair atop the twins' heads. "And this..." His other hand went to rest against B'layr's belly. "These are the miracles."

B'layr smiled indulgently. "I repeat; do not rush that which you wish to have. The wanting is sometimes more pleasurable than the having." He nodded toward the cup which sat on the floor. "Has it cooled?"

Immediately, L'anin picked it up and placed it to his Bearer's lips. B'layr drank the cooling liquid quickly, draining the cup. "Thank you, my son; your Sire would be proud. Now, I must rest. Go do your duty as the tribe's Sentry. We will not require your help for a while." He closed his eyes, clutching the two nursing children against his chest. His face smoothed out as the discomfort of the nausea eased, and he relaxed.

L'anin stood, and with one last look back at his sleeping family, stepped out of the cabin to begin his patrol.

~oO0Oo~

"The trucks will meet you at the campsite," Steven shouted over the roar of the helicopter's rotors. "Do you need any help getting the stuff carried into the forest?"

Jim shook his head. "Nah. I've got plenty of help from the tribe. Thanks for everything, Stevie. It's been great seeing you, Kallie and the kids again."

"Don't be such a stranger," his brother urged. "Come visit us anytime."

"I'll give you a shout on the radio," Jim promised. "Gotta get home now. Something doesn't feel right." He waved a hand at the pilot, who lifted the chopper off the ground. Steven waved and backed away, letting the helicopter take off. He stood watching as it faded into the bright blue of the late summer sky.

~oO0Oo~

L'anin heard the noise of the returning chopper before the rest of the tribe. He snagged A'mara in passing. "Keep an eye on Mother for me. I must go meet my Sire and bring him home."

"Is B'layr feeling better?" the elf asked. The Bearer of Sentries had become a close and dear friend over the past years, and A'mara was grieved that he seemed to be unable to tolerate his current pregnancy.

"He is better today," L'anin said patiently, "but he is not well. Do not let him think I asked you to watch him; that would anger him greatly," he admitted. "Just be a friend. I will not be gone long."

A'mara nodded and watched as the fleet-footed elf ran off along the forest path toward the landing area for the big metal bird. He turned toward the nearly completed cabin, approaching the open door.

"B'layr?"

"A'mara! Come in; sit." B'layr motioned to the pile of furs where he had been spending the majority of his days recently. "May I offer you tea?"

"That would be good," A'mara agreed, watching as his friend took a teapot from the hearth and poured the hot liquid into two cups.

"This has helped with the nausea," B'layr admitted. "If it is too strong for your tastes, I can dilute it for you."

"No, this is fine," A'mara said, taking a sip of the bitter brew. "Are you feeling better, then?"

"Some days are better than others," B'layr admitted. "But I have been able to keep up with my chores."

A'mara looked at the half-filled loom. "I see you have been busy weaving again."

"I have not felt up to the task of tanning leather," B'layr admitted. "The weaving at least performs a useful function. We will have many blankets for the Cold Time. Jim promised to bring warm clothing, as well, so the hides are not as necessary."

"You are anxious to have him home," A'mara astutely observed.

B'layr smiled shyly, a slight blush rising to his cheeks. "Does it show that much?"

A'mara chuckled. "You were never good at hiding your emotions, my friend. Besides, you forget ... I know what it is like to miss the other half of your soul."

B'layr reached out, covering A'mara's hand with his own. "I have not forgotten. Does it ever get easier?"

The elf shook his head. "The pain subsides, eventually, but it is always there. I will never be whole again. But, enough of the melancholy. L'anin heard the metal bird and has gone to meet his Sire. You will be reunited soon."

B'layr's face lit up with anticipation, before a thought brought a frown to his lips. "Did L'anin send you here to keep an eye on me?"

"He cares about you," A'mara said with a smile. "Do not condemn him for wanting only to make sure you are well."

"Thank you." B'layr shifted on the furs, an arm wrapped around his middle. "The truth be told, I should not be left alone right now."

"Should I send for the Healer?" A'mara gently pushed B'layr down onto the furs, running light hands across his abdomen, feeling the cramping of the muscles. "Something does not feel right."

"I am fine," B'layr hissed through clenched teeth. "J'anin will be here soon; then I will feel better."

"I think this is beyond your soulmate's ability, Bearer," A'mara scolded.

"What is beyond my ability?"

A'mara turned abruptly, surprised by the sudden voice. "N-nothing...." He stood and backed away from the furs, allowing Jim to kneel in his place.

"What's going on here, B'layr?" Jim asked, Sentry hands probing carefully in the same area that A'mara had checked.

"I had wished to surprise you," B'layr whispered. "I am with child."

"How long? Why didn't you tell me?" Jim asked, concerned as A'mara had been by the spasms of the abdominal muscles.

"Nearly two moons, now," B'layr confessed.

"Get K'tan," Jim ordered. A'mara fled the cabin in search of the Healer. L'anin came to take his place beside his Bearer, opposite his Sire. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I-I did not want you to worry while you were gone. You had enough on your mind without constantly thinking of me."

Jim shook his head, brushing strands of long, curling hair from his soulmate's face. "You have the most twisted logic, sometimes.... How long have you been sick?"

"Since just before you left." B'layr struggled to sit up, but was pushed back down. "It started as nausea. It is not unusual," he rushed to explain. "I have had the sickness with each pregnancy; only it seems worse this time."

"When did the cramps start?" Jim was pushing gently against the muscles, massaging them with his fingers.

B'layr grimaced as he hit a sensitive spot. "No more than two, maybe three, risings of the sun."

"That hurt?" B'layr nodded. Jim ceased his probing, leaning down to kiss his mate. "This is some fine welcome home I get," he pouted.

"I am sorry, my heart. I will be better soon," B'layr promised.

K'tan entered the cabin; L'anin stood to make room for him to kneel next to his Bearer. The Healer examined his patient, frowning as he felt the contractions. "Your body fights this conception," he concluded. "It is unusual for one mate to become pregnant in two successive cycles. You are exhausted and weak from the birth of the twins."

"What can we do, Healer?" L'anin hovered over the small group, worry lining his young face.

"Keep the Bearer in bed." At the pronouncement, B'layr rolled his eyes.

"For how long?" Jim wondered. "His pregnancy has barely begun."

"For at least another moon," K'tan ruled, eliciting a groan from his patient. "If you wish to keep this child," he said, turning to B'layr, "you will do as I instruct. Your body needs rest. I suggest that it is time to foster the twins, so that you may concentrate on yourself."

"No!" Once again B'layr struggled to sit up, but was pushed back by three sets of hands. "No," he repeated, more quietly. "I do not wish to give them up."

"Let me help." Nearly forgotten on the other side of the cabin, A'mara stepped forward. "I can stay here, care for the twins," he suggested. "You would still need to nurse..."

"Absolutely not," K'tan interjected. "The stimulation of the teats aggravates the cramping in his belly. The elflings must be weaned."

"But..." B'layr protested weakly. A stern look from Jim quieted him.

"I think we should take A'mara up on his offer," he suggested. "L'anin needs to patrol the borderlands, and I need to put the finishing touches on the cabin and long house. Someone needs to be here to make sure you follow your doctor's orders and to take care of the twins."

B'layr twisted his head in order to see A'mara, who was still standing behind him. "You would do this?"

"What are friends for, if not to help?" A'mara answered. "You taught me to weave, and gave me a loom. Besides, I never had elflings of my own to raise," he added wistfully. "I would love the opportunity to help with yours."

"It's settled, then," Jim pronounced. "I need to go back to the clearing to wait on the delivery of our things." He laid a comforting hand on B'layr's shoulder. "Tonight you'll sleep in a real bed."

B'layr smiled up at his soulmate. "Hurry back, my heart. I have waited nearly a half moon to see you again, and I do not like the parting."

"I'll make it up to you," Jim promised, bending down to capture the pouting lips in a farewell kiss.

B'layr listened as K'tan followed Jim out the door. "Do not stimulate the Bearer unnecessarily," he warned. "No mating until the period of bed rest is complete, and nothing that would excite him."

"That doesn't leave much," Jim said with a scowl.

"It leaves holding and touching," K'tan told him. "If you wish B'layr to keep this pregnancy, you must abstain."

B'layr turned to A'mara with a sigh. "What am I to do?"

The elf approached the sleeping platform, crouching down to pull the blankets up under B'layr's chin. "Sleep. You need your rest." He stroked his hand over B'layr's forehead, running it down the long hair, and then bringing it to rest against a cheek. "You are blessed, Bearer of Sentries. Let me care for you."

B'layr nodded and closed his eyes. There was nothing more to be done; the Healer had spoken, and now he was under orders, confined to bed for a full moon.

Several hours later, he awoke to a painful ache in his chest. His nipples throbbed, and he felt as though he might burst. "Oooooooooh..." The quiet moan brought A'mara quickly to the bedside.

"Bearer?" His hand brushed the sweaty forehead, feeling a slight fever. Glassy blue eyes stared up at him in pain. "What is it?"

"Please," B'layr begged. "I must nurse. It is time."

A'mara pulled down the blanket, baring B'layr's chest. Gentle fingers probed the slightly swollen breasts, which were hard and full of milk. "The twins must be weaned," he reminded his charge. "Give me a few moments to prepare a poultice. It will bring down the swelling and ease the pain." He moved away to begin searching through the collection of medicinal plants for the proper herbs.

After several minutes of preparation, A'mara brought the warm poultice to where B'layr lay. He pressed the pulverized leaves over the aching and leaking nipples, massaging gently around the edges of the hard mounds.

"It did not hurt like this with L'anin," B'layr whimpered, hissing when A'mara hit a particularly tender spot.

"With the young Sentry you were able to wean slowly," A'mara said. "With the twins, it came suddenly. The elflings are none too happy, themselves."

"How are they? I have not seen them since early this morning."

"They are napping," A'mara answered. "If you wish, I will bring them to you when they wake."

"Yes, I would like that," B'layr agreed, smiling. "Thank you, my friend. I know I do not make the best of patients."

"I have tended far worse," A'mara chuckled. "You have a slight fever; you should rest now."

"I am tired," B'layr admitted, closing his eyes.

He was wakened hours later by gentle hands lifting him from his sleeping furs. Cradling arms protected him, laying him down on the softness of a mattress; supporting his head with down-filled pillows.

"Jim?" Groggy from sleep and fever, B'layr looked up at his soulmate.

"I'm here, at last, my soul," Jim answered, stretching out beside the weary elf.

"Is all the work done?" B'layr blinked sleep-filled eyes, trying hard to focus on his mate.

"The beds are finished," Jim told him. "And the furniture is moved in. We'll have to decide where we want everything later. The windows still need glazing and the greenhouse needs to be built."

"Greenhouse?" B'layr struggled to sit up, but was pressed back against the mattress. As Jim explained, A'mara changed the poultice on B'layr's breasts.

"I couldn't resist," Jim said, grinning. "With the greenhouse, you can extend the growing season of your tomatoes. If we get enough sun, you can have fresh vegetables through most of the winter."

"I wish to see this marvel," B'layr said, struggling against the strong hands that held him down.

"Later," Jim promised. "It's not even built, yet. What's this?" He picked at the pungent herbs of the poultice.

"The Bearer had to wean the elflings," A'mara explained.

"Yes, I remember," Jim reminded him. "And...?"

"My teats filled with milk," B'layr explained, "and I could not relieve the pressure. K'tan wishes for me to dry out. I cannot do that if I express milk to ease the pain."

"The poultice eases the discomfort and helps the body reabsorb the milk," A'mara explained. "Now that you are here, perhaps a massage is in order." He gathered the herbs and dried B'layr's chest.

Jim looked down on the fiery red nipples and swollen flesh. "My God, B'layr!" Dialing his sense of touch to the maximum, he very gently prodded the hard mounds. B'layr hissed his discomfort as fingertips brushed the erect nubs of his teats. "A'mara, this looks like an infection," he addressed the elf.

"I will fetch K'tan." A'mara quickly disappeared from the cabin.

"It's going to be all right," Jim soothed, brushing sweat-matted curls from B'layr's forehead. "I'm sorry."

"For what, my heart?" B'layr looked puzzled as he turned his head to study his mate.

"For everything that's happened lately. For another pregnancy so soon. You weren't ready, B'layr. You weren't completely healed."

"It has been five months since the birth," B'layr stated logically. "I was fine when we conceived this elfling. All will go well." He closed his eyes for a moment, making Jim wonder if he'd fallen back asleep. When he opened them again, the blue orbs fixed on his soulmate. "I need a Blessing."

Jim pulled back slightly in surprise. "No, my soul! Please, don't say that," he begged. "I thought you were pleased when I changed the ritual."

"This pregnancy has been fraught with difficulties from conception," B'layr admitted. He had not told his mate of the early nausea and discomfort, as he had wanted to keep the child a secret until Jim's return from Cascade. Now things had escalated to the point of desperate measures. "I ask only for a select few: you and L'anin, my family; A'mara, my friend; K'tan, Healer and Shaman; and M'aris. The Elders and my family; that is all I ask."

"Why?" Jim's voice held sorrow and defeat.

"Because it has been for generations of my people," B'layr explained. "The ritual of the Blessing not only ties the child to the tribe, but ensures a healthy pregnancy for the Bearer."

"Folklore and superstition," Jim shot back, keeping his voice soft.

"Maybe so; maybe not," B'layr answered. "But I am afraid, and this will put my mind at ease."

Jim studied the man lying next to him; slender, of moderate build and height, strong and well-muscled. Masculine. Feminine. Thoroughly alien, in a mystical, magical sort of way. If he lived to be two hundred, he would never understand the mind of the elf who had stolen his soul.

"If you wish, you may ask," he conceded. "But none are bound to accept ... or refuse."

"Thank you, my heart."

As Jim leaned down to seal the agreement with a kiss, a grunt sounded from the doorway. "K'tan!" He stood, ushering the Healer to the bedside. "B'layr has developed an infection in his breasts."

The Healer took his place on the edge of the bed; studying the redness, feeling the heat radiating from the abused flesh. "I believe are you correct," he concluded. "I have a tea that should help." He handed the herbs to A'mara, who hurried to steep them in hot water. "The Bearer must continue the weaning process. It is as hard for him as it is for the elflings. It is not in my nature to inflict pain, but this will pass. Be patient," he said, turning to B'layr.

"It is difficult to be patient when there is little to do and nothing to occupy my thoughts," B'layr complained.

"I brought books," Jim told him, smiling. "We can work on your reading skills. I'm sure we can find plenty to occupy your time."

The elf's eyes lit up. "Books? Where?"

Just then L'anin stepped into the cabin, carrying a heavy box. Jim turned to his son. "Have the books been brought up from the clearing yet?"

"I will check." L'anin turned to leave, but his Bearer's voice stopped him.

"L'anin ... wait." B'layr turned to the assembled elves. "I have asked J'anin to allow a Blessing. He has agreed. I wish the three of you and M'aris to be part of the ceremony. In deference to my soulmate, the ritual would be private; here in the cabin."

K'tan shook his head. "There can be no Blessing for at least a moon, Bearer. No intercourse at all, including with J'anin."

"But..." B'layr sputtered. "To save the pregnancy..."

"You must abstain," K'tan said firmly. "Besides, knowing the Chieftain's feelings regarding the ritual, I would respectfully decline your request under any circumstances."

"As would I," L'anin chimed in. "My Sire has spoken of his people's taboo regarding incest. And while I do not agree that the Blessing qualifies, I can understand his hesitancy and would bow to his wishes."

"A'mara?" B'layr's face held apprehension for his friend's reply. Already he could feel the ceremony slipping away.

The elf approached the side of the bed nearest B'layr and sat on the mattress. His hand stroked across B'layr's hairline and down his cheek. He cradled the elf's head in his hand. "I cannot," he said with regret. "I love you like a brother and would do as you ask but for K'tan's warning and your soulmate's wishes. I cannot go against them. I am sorry." He looked up at K'tan. "I will fetch the tea." Getting up, A'mara crossed the room to fetch the cup of medicinal drink.

B'layr accepted the tea and sipped. Jim could tell that his mate was balanced on a fine edge at the moment, ready to break into tears at just the right provocation. He motioned to the other elves in the room. "K'tan, thank you for your help. I'll call if B'layr doesn't improve." He turned to A'mara, who was still perched on the bed. "Could you take the twins out for a few hours? The weather's warm, and I'm sure they'd enjoy the fresh air." As A'mara slipped off the bed to tend the twins, Jim turned to L'anin.

"I am sorry, Sire," the young Sentry apologized. "I did not mean to upset Mother, but I simply cannot do it again." He glanced at B'layr who was staring glassy-eyed and unfocused into the center of the room. "Will he be all right?"

"I'll stay," Jim assured his son. "It's really hard right now, with so many things going wrong. Even if you had agreed, the Blessing could not be performed before the passage of a moon. B'layr understands; he just doesn't like the situation. Why don't you see if you can find some of those books? I'm sure some good stories will help take your Bearer's mind off his disappointment."

L'anin nodded and walked toward the door. "You will call if you need me."

"Of course." Jim nodded at his son and waved him out. "But right now, I need some time alone with your mother."

The deafening silence echoed throughout the large cabin. Risking a zone-out, Jim dialed up all his senses so that he could better empathize with his mate. Stretching out on the bed, he gathered B'layr into his arms. "Sweetheart?" He brushed his hand down the long hair, feeling the tangles and roughness of the untended locks. "Tell me you understand? I love you, B'layr. I don't want anything to happen to you."

The elf turned in his lover's arms and cuddled against the strong chest. Tears began to dampen the fabric of Jim's shirt as the body in his arms started to shake. Soon the crying turned to heartbreaking sobs, and Jim could do nothing but hold on and wait out the storm. He soothed with his voice and his hands, waiting for B'layr to become responsive again.

Finally, his mate turned red-rimmed eyes to him. "I am sorry." The choked words were followed by a hiccup and more tears streaming silently down his cheeks. "I did not wish for you to come home to this. I had planned a joyous announcement. I had hoped the news would please you. I have been nothing but trouble and pain for you."

"Shhh...." Jim quieted the flow of words with a finger pressed against B'layr's lips. "That's not true. Life with you has been an exhilarating experience, right from the start. There have been trials, but all couples have them. The difficulties I had with Carolyn caused us to get divorced. The problems you and I have faced have only bound us closer together. If you want this pregnancy, then I'm happy, too. I just want to see things go smoothly and painlessly for you. Do you understand that?"

B'layr nodded. "But why does something always have to go wrong?"

"After my mother left us," Jim began, "my father stopped taking Steven and me to church. I wasn't even sure if I believed in a God that would allow a mother to abandon her two sons. We had a housekeeper; her name was Sally. She kept us on the straight and narrow, and she had a saying: 'When God closes a door, He opens a window'. We may not know why this is happening, or why things always seem to go wrong, but somewhere there's a reason, and in good time it'll become clear."

"There is a reason for this?" B'layr sniffled and wiped at his eyes. He wanted to believe, but it was difficult.

"It's not that bad, really," Jim tried to explain. "You're having problems with the pregnancy, but you haven't lost the baby. You've been working awfully hard lately. Maybe this is God's way of slowing you down."

"Will you stay with me?" B'layr asked, reaching out to stroke a hand down Jim's arm.

"I've got so much to do," Jim sighed. "The windows, the greenhouse, the furniture in here..."

"What is more important?"

Jim studied the wide blue eyes watching him and smiled. "There's nothing that can't wait another day or two, at least," he decided. "I think we need to break in this bed. K'tan says no sex, but that doesn't mean we can't cuddle. I've missed you." His confession was heartfelt as he gathered his lover into his arms.

"And I, you. Welcome home, my heart." B'layr snuggled deeply into the embrace and closed his eyes.

~oO0Oo~

The time passed quickly, despite numerous complaints of boredom and pleas to have Jim come join him in bed. B'layr sat with his feet dangling over the edge of the queen-size mattress, waiting for his mate to assist him. "Jim? What's taking so long?"

"Be patient," his mate scolded. Finally, Jim walked across the room and assisted B'layr down from the bed. After such a long confinement, the elf found walking to be a challenge. Jim wrapped an arm around his waist as they toured the finished cabin.

Their queen bed sat against the north wall of the cabin, near the fireplace to keep the chilly elf warm during the long winter nights. A double bed for L'anin, which he had been sharing with A'mara, sat against the east wall. Next to that bed were two cribs that could convert to twin beds when the elflings were old enough.

A small, overstuffed couch and matching armchair faced the fireplace, while a dining set was placed in the southwest corner of the large room. There was a warm, woolen rug covering the bare floor in front of the fireplace, and another in the center of the room opposite the door.

Windows glazed with double-paned glass let in light. Sheer curtains decorated the window frames without blocking the warming rays of the sun. B'layr stood at the main window, next to the door.

"What is that?" he asked, pointing to a small building a hundred feet beyond the cabin, along a small path.

"That, my soul, is an outhouse," Jim answered with a chuckle. "There's no hope of indoor plumbing up here, and I refuse to go far to do my business once the snow comes. Come, see this." He guided B'layr to a southern exposure window, near the dining table. Out that view was another small building, framed and covered in a translucent white plastic. "That is your greenhouse," he explained.

"For my ... tomatoes?" B'layr asked, turning a wide smile on his mate.

"And anything else you want to grow. There should be enough room for planting to supplement the entire tribe for the winter."

"This is wonderful! May I go see it?" B'layr begged.

"In a few days, when you're steadier on your feet," Jim told him. "Today, I promised K'tan we'd take it easy."

"Does that mean more bed rest?" B'layr asked with a sly grin. "Perhaps you could Bless me today."

"You're incorrigible!" Jim laughed. "Not until K'tan says it's okay. How are you feeling?"

"My stomach still cramps," B'layr admitted, "but the nausea seems to be gone."

"That's good news. You'll be up and about the whole camp before you know it. You should see the long house." Jim's voice filled with pride. "There's more than enough room for everyone; three fireplaces, two large pantry/storage rooms, five windows and two entrances. They're already claiming spots and laying down their sleeping furs," he said with a grin. "I brought them several small table-and-chair sets and enough games to keep the worst complainers busy."

B'layr smiled up at his proud mate, and then turned to admire the shelves Jim had put up to house all the books he'd brought back. "We are very fortunate that your trust fund could give us all this."

"Steven says there's more than enough; not to worry. I'm having some bales of wool shipped in later, to keep you and A'mara busy." He walked over to the small desk that held the two-way radio. "We can contact Steven any time we need to with this," he explained. "It's a way to talk over long distances that doesn't need the wires or electricity of a phone."

"What powers it?" B'layr asked.

"I have a generator and a supply of gasoline for it," Jim replied. "The generator's noisy, so I have a small building for it just behind this wall. I'll have to go outside to start it up, but the noise won't be nearly as bad as if I kept it in the cabin."

"You think of everything, my heart," B'layr said with a smile.

Jim shook his head. "I'm sure we'll think of something vital that we need after the snow falls, and we can't get out."

B'layr turned Jim to face him and gathered him into his arms. "Before this, we had nothing. Now, we have abundance. It would be greed of the worst kind to want more. Besides," he added. "I have all I ever needed right here." He rose up on his toes and kissed Jim soundly. "I need to rest," he said when he finally came up for a breath. "You will hold me while I sleep." It wasn't a request.

Indulgently, Jim walked his mate back to the large bed and settled him beneath the covers. Stretching out beside him, he gathered B'layr into his arms, tucking the curly head beneath his chin. "Sweet dreams, Chief."

~oO0Oo~

A week and a day later, B'layr was walking barefoot through what was left of his garden, gathering the last of the tomatoes and vegetables until those in his greenhouse matured.

"Taking it easy there, Imp?" Jim approached his mate, offering to carry the bounty back into the cabin.

"You have allowed nothing less," B'layr replied with a quirky grin, following Jim through the garden toward home. "Ow!"

Jim turned abruptly. "B'layr? What's wrong?" He put the armload of vegetables down and walked back to where the elf was bending over, brushing dirt away from a stone.

"I stubbed my toe on this rock," the elf said with a grimace. He continued to dig at it with his fingers, trying to remove it from the ground. "It goes deep."

"Let me get something to dig it out," Jim suggested, walking to the small shed where they stored their gardening tools. He returned with a small hand trowel and began to dig.

B'layr continued to scrabble with his fingers, dusting the dirt away from the object. "There is something inscribed on it." His voice held wonder and his fingers dug faster.

Eventually, the pair lifted the stone from the ground. Approximately twelve inches on a side and over an inch thick, the stone looked like something a mason might put in a wall as part of a decorative mural. B'layr's long fingers picked the dirt from the nooks and crannies, revealing a disturbing scene.

"It looks like something from Central or South America," Jim commented. "Possibly Mayan. But what would it be doing here, in the Cascade Mountains of Washington?"

"I do not know its origins," B'layr whispered, his fingers still running over the raised relief of the picture. "But this is an elf ... in chains." He looked up at Jim, something akin to fear lighting his eyes. "The creator of this piece kept elves as slaves."

"That's a pretty wild leap of your imagination there, Imp. What makes you think that, exactly?"

"There are stories; stories so ancient they are barely remembered. My Bearer told one to me of elves in captivity. He did not know the origin of the story, or even whether it was truth or myth. It was often used to scare elflings into doing what they were told."

"My people have stories like that, too," Jim told him. "But they're just made up; fabricated to frighten children."

"I used to think so," B'layr agreed. "But now I am not so certain. This stone could be a link to our past. I wish to find out more about it. Not even the eldest among us remembers the tale of our origin. This may be a key."

"Well, the key is going to have to wait," Jim said in no uncertain terms. "We're not going anywhere while we still have two young elflings to raise."

"And one on the way," B'layr added with a grin. He picked the stone up and began carrying it toward the cabin.

"Hold up a minute," Jim said, reaching B'layr's side in two long strides. "You shouldn't be lifting anything heavy."

"Then I will carry the vegetables," B'layr agreed, handing over the stone. He bent to pick up the carry-sack, and cried out. Grabbing his middle, he bent double.

"B'layr! My God!" Jim dropped the stone and was immediately at B'layr's side. He looked around frantically, but most of the tribe had followed L'anin out on an autumn hunt, to fill the pantries with food for the winter.

"It hurts, Jim!" B'layr moaned, rolling onto his side and curling into a ball.

"B'layr? B'layr! Listen to me!" Jim tried to unroll the tightly curled elf, with no effect. "You have to relax. Breathe through the pain. Take a deep breath," he instructed, "then let it out slowly." He demonstrated as he continued to try to lay his mate flat.

Suddenly, B'layr scrambled to pull his breeches off, tugging at the snug leather to expose himself.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Jim grabbed at the breeches, trying to pull them back up, but B'layr kept struggling.

"The baby is coming!" B'layr gasped out between the painful cramps. "The baby is coming ... now!"

"No," Jim argued. "No, it can't be. B'layr, you're only twelve weeks pregnant! You don't even show yet!"

"It is time. It is time," the elf kept repeating as he panted through the pain.

Jim smelled the blood before he saw it, dribbling down between the legs of his soulmate. "My God, B'layr ... you're bleeding!"

"It is time. The baby is coming." B'layr's voice was a choked sob. Jim watched in horror as the birth muscle dilated and a bloody mass passed from his mate's body to fall onto the ground. B'layr quieted as the cramping ceased.

Jim inspected him quickly, making sure that B'layr was still breathing and then he turned to the expelled mass. What he saw made his breath catch in his throat. An embryonic elfling lay atop a malformed placenta. He quickly dumped the vegetables from the carry-sack and placed the results of the birth into the bag to await a proper burial. Now, he needed to attend to his soulmate.

The bleeding had trickled to a stop, but B'layr's legs were still coated in fresh and drying blood. Jim picked him up and carried him inside, laying him on the bed, uncaring of the stains on the sheets. He cleaned his mate tenderly, looking for any other signs of discomfort or trouble. B'layr was unconscious, but breathing normally. He pulled the blankets up, bent over to kiss the wide forehead, and then headed outside to find a proper burial site.

A maple tree stood a hundred feet from the cabin, its remaining leaves a blazing red-orange in the autumn sun. With a stoic sense of purpose, Jim dug the small grave and buried their child. He set the carved stone on top of the fresh earth as a marker, and then returned to the cabin.

"Jim?" B'layr's voice was weak, but steady.

"Right here, Sweetheart," he answered, hurrying over to the bed. "How do you feel?"

"Our baby?" he asked, ignoring the inquiry.

"He was too young, B'layr; just a fetus no larger than your little finger."

"He is d-dead?" B'layr's eyes grew wild with grief. "It is my fault! I should have told you when I first got pregnant. I should have had the Blessing ceremony." His fists wrapped in Jim's shirt, pulling the larger man toward him. "It is because my womb was not Blessed! Jim, I told you! I told you!"

Jim pried the strong fingers from his shirt. "B'layr! Calm down." He stroked through the wild mane of hair making soothing noises until B'layr quieted and listened to him. "Calm down. It has nothing to do with the Blessing ceremony. When K'tiri was born, I had to cut her from your womb. I'm no surgeon; it was that or lose you both. I must have damaged the uterus beyond its capacity to hold a pregnancy to term."

"That is your explanation," B'layr spat. "It holds no more truth than mine. This is the first pregnancy in the memory of the tribes that was not Blessed. It is also the first to be lost. You cannot tell me there is not a connection."

"Maybe it's a little of both," Jim compromised, trying to calm the agitated elf. "What matters now, is that we make sure there is nothing further wrong with you. You need to rest. I will go find K'tan."

"Where are A'mara and the twins?" B'layr asked suddenly. "Surely A'mara did not go on the hunt."

"They're over at the long house," Jim explained. "A'mara wanted to weave, and there is plenty of room for the children to practice their crawling." He stood and walked toward the door.

Suddenly, the belligerence of the bedridden elf evaporated. In its place was a lost and hurting creature. "Jim? You will not be gone long?"

The Sentry turned to see tears welling in the depths of the wide blue eyes. He walked back over to the bed and gathered B'layr into his arms. "Everything will be all right, my soul. You'll see. I need to get the Healer, to make sure that you're well."

"Where is the baby?" The question was whispered so softly, the Sentry had to strain to hear.

"I buried him beneath the old maple," he returned with equal softness. "We will have a proper ceremony when you're feeling better."

"Do not leave me ... please," B'layr begged.

"Sweetheart, I have to get the Healer," Jim explained.

B'layr shook his head. "Please wait. Stay with me. I need you."

Dialing up his senses, Jim swept them over his mate: heart rate, breathing, bodily sounds, temperature—all were normal. Satisfied, he sat on the edge of the bed. "All right. I can stay, for now," he conceded. "But I do want K'tan to examine you."

B'layr nodded, and then reached up to tug on Jim's shirt. The Sentry took the hint and stretched out next to his mate, gathering his soul close to his heart. "I know it's hard to believe this now," he murmured, "but everything is going to work out. You'll see."

"I want to try again."

"What?" The statement startled Jim. "Try what again?"

"I am the Bearer of Sentries, the Giver of Life. You have said so," B'layr recalled. "I wish to bear again."

"No, Sweetheart. Not so soon. There's no guarantee the next pregnancy won't end up just like this one."

"I will be Blessed," B'layr insisted. "Nothing will happen to this baby. You will see. You owe me this."

Jim bristled at the possessive sound of the statement. "How do you figure?" he asked.

"It is because of your dislike of the Blessing ceremony that none would agree," B'layr insisted. "If you tell them to do it, they will Bless me and the baby will live."

"B'layr..." Jim's voice held exasperation and a hint of anger.

"Just you, K'tan and M'aris; my mate and the Elders. That is all. L'anin will not have to, as you have turned him against the old ways. I will not put A'mara into the position of having to choose. Just the Elders, Jim. Please."

"How soon will your cycles begin again?" Jim asked, surprised he was even considering the plan.

"I do not know. They usually begin within three months of a birth, but this was premature. It could be much sooner. The elven body is geared to reproduction. Those of us who are mated are expected to bear young." B'layr watched as many emotions flitted across Jim's face.

"But we've already given the tribe three new members. L'anin will find a soulmate sometime soon and the twins..." Jim's voice trailed off. B'layr was shaking his head, his mouth turned down in a pout.

"There is no guarantee that L'anin will find a soulmate," B'layr pointed out. "It is still quite rare. It is not like 'falling in love' with your people. As for the twins, anything could happen. K'tiri is supposed to be the Bearer of Tribes, but what if she is not? Until her birth, it was just another legend among my people."

"There are never any guarantees," Jim insisted. "There's no guarantee that another pregnancy will last to term, or that the child will mate and bear young. What's important to me right now is your health. The Cold Time is coming, and I don't wish to see you weak and ill."

"I will tell you when my cycle begins," B'layr told him, certain his mate would agree.

"And I will decide, depending on how soon that happens," Jim answered. "It would be a cold time, indeed, if I found myself sleeping alone every night, whatever the reason. I don't want two graves under the maple."

"I will not let that happen," B'layr insisted. "And I will not abandon our bed together. You are my heart, my very soul. We sometimes disagree, but I could no more keep you from my bed than I could stop breathing."

Jim pulled B'layr closer, wrapping him in the security of his arms. "You say your people have no magic, and yet you've bewitched me, Imp. I never have been able to resist your charms. What enchantment is that?"

"I believe you call it 'love'." B'layr buried his face in the juncture of Jim's neck and shoulder.

"Yes," Jim whispered in reply, kissing the top of his soulmate's head. "Love."

~oO0Oo~

The late November air was crisp and sharp with the smell of snow to come. B'layr knelt in front of the stone tablet under the maple and dusted fallen leaves from the small grave. He placed a bundle of fresh herbs and a sprig of Mountain Ash with its bright orange berries onto the marker.

Jim came from around the side of the cabin and spotted his soulmate. Walking over, he knelt next to the still-grieving elf and wrapped an arm around the slender waist. B'layr leaned against the comfort of his mate, tilting his head to rest on Jim's shoulder. Both men stared silently at the small monument for several minutes.

"My cycles have begun again," B'layr said softly.

Jim turned to face him, lightly grasping B'layr's biceps and gazing into the depths of his dark blue eyes. What he saw was loss and longing. "I can't lose you, B'layr. I can't," he pleaded. "What you're asking is too risky."

"I will do whatever you and K'tan ask of me," B'layr promised in reply. "Even keep to my bed, if that is what is required."

"Why? Why is another pregnancy so important? Why does it have to be now?" Jim struggled to understand.

"This time is ideal," B'layr endeavored to explain. "During the Cold Time, it is difficult to get out. Physical activity is minimal. I could weave, read, even rest whole days in bed, if needed. Once the pregnancy is established, come spring, I will be well enough to resume my responsibilities."

"But why get pregnant at all?"

"Because ... because it is what I do," B'layr answered simply. "As you are the Sentry; I am the Bearer. These are the roles assigned to us. You cannot bear, so I must do so in your place."

"But..." Jim sputtered.

"It is the responsibility of mated pairs to bear young," B'layr said patiently. He had been over this road many times before, but Jim stubbornly refused to understand. "Soulmates are rare; the tribes are losing members faster than they are gaining them. It takes fifty years for an elf to reach sexual maturity. Even should L'anin be fortunate enough to find a mate he will not Bear for another twenty-five Turns-of-Seasons. You cannot Bear, my heart, so the duty falls to me."

"And you think the tribe would condemn you; possibly banish you, if you refused to have more children?"

B'layr sighed. "It would be within their rights."

"Not while I'm Chieftain!"

"They would banish you with me." B'layr reached out to brush his fingers across the grave marker. "I must try again," he said softly. "To honor the spirit of the one who was lost."

"It wasn't your fault," Jim said softly. "You're not to blame for the miscarriage. If anyone should take the blame, it ought to be me. I'm the one who butchered you to birth K'tiri. It's my action that has caused you to be unable to carry the child."

"I was not Blessed," B'layr countered. "A Blessing would have prevented this."

Jim sighed. Standing, he pulled B'layr up with him. "There's only one way to settle this, isn't there?" He wrapped an arm around his mate's waist and guided him back toward the cabin. B'layr walked with his head down, a mischievous grin curling the corners of his mouth.

They entered the empty cabin. Jim walked to the fireplace and put another log on the blaze. "A'mara is tending the twins at the long house while he weaves. L'anin is on patrol."

"Then we have plenty of time," B'layr said, his voice a husky whisper.

Jim turned to look, and found his mate naked and aroused, waiting for him in their large bed. He approached, crawling onto the mattress and bracing his arms to either side of B'layr's broad shoulders. "You planned this all along, Imp," he growled, bending low to capture the waiting lips.

B'layr looked up at him with moisture-tinged eyes. "I still mourn," he whispered, "but life continues. Will you celebrate life with me?" He ran his hands over the soft leather of Jim's jerkin, needy fingers fumbling with the ties, loosening them.

Jim shrugged the garment off, and B'layr's hands began an exploration of his chest. Feather-light fingers dusted over his nipples, sending an electric shot straight to his groin. He struggled to remove the leather breeches, which had perversely decided to adhere to his skin. Finally, his erection sprang free, full and hard, coated with pre-come. He peeled off the rest of his clothing, the mating urge singing in his mind.

Their joining had an urgency, tempered by the need Jim felt to treat his mate with gentleness. Born of the forest, and strengthened by the mountain upon which he lived, B'layr didn't want a tender touch. What he needed now was mating. His body screamed with the need to be pregnant again as he impaled himself and set up his own rhythm.

Jim was overcome by the powerful emotions battering at his mental shields. B'layr tore the walls down, flooding his mind with raw energy. The Sentry cried out as the mating ripped his orgasm from him.

When it was over, the pair melted into a sweaty heap. Slowly, Jim came back into his own mind and body, separating both physically and mentally from his soulmate. With gentle hands, he rolled B'layr over to face him.

"What was that?" His voice was no more than a ragged whisper.

B'layr reached out, trailing his fingertips down Jim's cheek. "That, my heart, was a soul mating. We joined, mind and body, to create new life."

"But it's never been like that before," Jim said, wonder in his voice.

"I have never been so deep into the mating cycle before," B'layr explained, one long-fingered hand resting over his belly.

"Are you...?"

B'layr nodded, a smile curling the corners of his mouth. "A new life grows within me. Tell me your wishes, and I shall obey."

"I want you to stay in bed, at least until K'tan can assess your condition." Jim climbed off the bed, pulling the blankets up under B'layr's chin. "I'll bring you books, anything you ask, to keep you entertained."

"Right now, I feel the need to rest. Our coupling was brief, but intense." B'layr's eyes drooped shut, one bare arm and hand lying on top of the covers. His fingers waved Jim back. "Stay with me until I fall asleep?"

Lifting the blankets, Jim crawled back into bed, spooning up against his lover. His instinct to nurture the Bearer was stronger than ever as he wrapped protective arms around the slender body. Within minutes, the soulmates slept.

~oO0Oo~

"I've asked you here because B'layr has requested a Blessing." Jim looked around at the small group assembled on the grass. "In deference to my feelings in this matter, he has asked that the Elders represent the entire tribe. K'tan, as Shaman and Healer; M'aris, as past Chieftain; you have been chosen to Bless this new life. All others assembled will act as witnesses to the ritual." He nodded to L'anin and A'mara who sat before a small group of elves who had distinguished themselves through their craftsmanship or hunting skills and had been asked to bear witness.

A small, fur-covered platform had been erected outside the cabin, in view of the old maple tree. B'layr stepped forward, shedding the robe he wore, to mount the platform. In silence, he dropped to hands and knees, awaiting the beginning of the ritual.

"As tradition has passed down through the generations," Jim began, "B'layr, soulmate of J'anin, Bearer of L'anin, T'erin and K'tiri, comes before the assembled tribe that the fruit of his womb may be Blessed. The Blessing ensures the child a place within the tribe, as well as bestowing a healthy pregnancy on the Bearer. Come forth now, and let the Blessing begin."

Jim stepped aside as first M'aris, and then K'tan, climbed the platform steps to perform the ritual mating. Finally, Jim knelt on the furs, gathering his soulmate into his arms. Carefully, he entered the stretched orifice, dialing up the sense of touch in his penis so that only a few strokes were needed to bring on his climax.

Wrapping the shivering elf in a blanket of soft rabbit pelts, he carried him from the platform and headed into the woods toward the sacred pool for the ritual cleansing.

"I can walk, Jim," B'layr protested once they were under way.

Jim shook his head. "K'tan said no exertion, and that includes long walks. For that matter, you're not swimming this time, either."

"I must cleanse myself," the elf argued.

"I'll see to it that you're properly bathed," Jim assured him. "Just leave it all up to me."

"It is the duty of the Bearer to cleanse himself."

"Under my supervision," Jim said, relenting from his strict stance of caring for his beloved.

They reached the pool, and Jim set his burden down on the sandy bank. The sound of the waterfall tinkled in the background, the droplets occasionally spraying the visitors.

"You wait until I'm ready," Jim instructed, quickly stripping. He unwrapped his mate, picking B'layr up and carrying him into the water. "Now you may bathe."

"Please take me to deeper water," B'layr pleaded. "This is too shallow."

"No swimming," Jim reminded him. "This will do just fine for a bath. Now, are you going to do the cleansing, or am I? This water is too damn cold to stay in for very long."

B'layr quickly began his ritual bath, making do with the inability to swim to the depths of the small lake. A quick dunking wetted his hair, and he washed it using soaproot that grew along the bank. Finally, he was finished. As he began his trek back up to the shore, he felt Jim lift him out of the water. The chill autumn air on his wet skin caused the elf to shudder. Jim quickly scooped the fur blanket from the grass and cocooned his love in the soft warmth.

B'layr smiled up at him, his face flushed and radiant. "Thank you, my heart. Because of your understanding, this time our child will live."

"If you carry this pregnancy to term," Jim told him, "it won't be because of some ritual. It will be because you took care of yourself."

B'layr shook his head, but his smile remained intact. "It does not matter what either of us believes, so long as the child lives."

Jim adjusted his burden in his arms, snuggling B'layr closer. The elf reached out to wrap his arms around Jim's neck, laying his head against one broad shoulder. When they reached the cabin, Jim carried B'layr inside, laying him on the bed.

L'anin had started a fire in the large fireplace and heated some vegetable soup. He offered his Bearer a cup of the warm broth. "Here, Mother. You must eat to keep up your strength and help the child grow."

"You are going to make a fine mother yourself one day," B'layr said with a chuckle, sipping at the broth. "I thank you for having our home ready for my return."

"It is my home, as well," L'anin reminded him. "And it is my honor to assist my Sire in serving you. Anything you want, simply ask."

K'tan walked in, uninvited, and made his way over to the bed. "Your womb is weak, Bearer. To carry this child, you must follow strict rules." B'layr nodded as he continued to sip at the broth. "You must stay in bed. There is no excuse, short of the cabin burning down, for you to leave." B'layr grimaced at the expected announcement. "You are not to have sex, with anyone, including your mate."

"But..." B'layr sputtered, spitting out some of the soup in his haste.

"The Blessing was all we dare risk," K'tan continued. "You will remain celibate for the remainder of your term."

"But that is an entire year!" the shaken elf protested. "Can I not resume activity once the second quarter has passed?"

"Not until at least the third quarter," K'tan intoned, "and perhaps not even then." He patted B'layr's knee. "What is more important to you, Bearer? Your pleasure, or the life of your child?"

B'layr hung his head, blushing his shame. "I am sorry, Healer. I promised J'anin that if he allowed me this, I would follow all your rules. I will keep my pledge and honor your wishes."

K'tan nodded and rose. "It is good. I will check on you daily. Rest well, Bearer."

Jim escorted the Healer from their cabin. "Is there a chance he might carry this child to full term?" His face was lined with worry for his mate.

The Healer walked slowly toward the long house before turning and looking Jim in the eyes. "I am afraid his womb is too weakened from the birth of the twins," he confided. "There is a chance, but you both must be very careful. Do not get his hopes up too high. It is too early to predict the outcome of this pregnancy."

"He barely survived the birth of the twins," Jim whispered. "This pregnancy terrifies me. I can't lose him!"

"You will not lose your life's mate, J'anin," K'tan assured him. "But his heart and spirit may be broken when he loses this child as well."

"Then you think it's inevitable?"

"I think it is the most likely outcome," the Healer answered, "but it is not the only possible ending. I will light a fire and pray to the gods for this child and your mate."

"Thank you." Jim watched as the Healer walked around the corner of the large building, disappearing inside. He turned and headed back to the cabin.

~oO0Oo~

The fire crackled in the fireplace, chasing away the cold that beat at their door in the form of high drifts of early winter snow. Jim sat on the bed beside his mate, holding the elf's hair out of the way as B'layr vomited up the remnants of his most recent meal.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, B'layr looked up and sighed. "It is as bad as last time," he lamented. "The sickness was not this severe with L'anin or the twins."

"It doesn't mean anything," Jim hastened to assure him as he took the dirty bowl and set it outside in the snow. "Every pregnancy is different. K'tan said you'd have to take it easy this time."

"That is all I have been doing for the past eight weeks." B'layr patted the pile of books at his side. "You have not allowed me to leave our bed in all that time."

"Admit it, you haven't been up to moving around, even if K'tan would allow it."

B'layr gave a reluctant nod. "But that does not make the confinement any easier."

Jim came back to settle next to his soulmate. "I know. I wish there was something I could do to make the time pass more easily for you."

Snuggling up against his lover, B'layr handed Jim a book. "Read to me?"

Jim looked skeptically at the tome he had been given. "Where did you get this old thing?" He turned the book over, dusting off its faded cover: Mayan Culture in Mexico and Central America.

"It was with the books you brought home," B'layr said, indicating a large box on the floor next to the bed.

"Ah." Jim nodded in understanding. "The library was practically giving away boxes of old books, so I took what I could get." He thumbed through the textbook. "But this is pretty dry reading. Don't you have something a little more interesting in there?" He leaned over to look, but the box was just out of his reach.

B'layr plucked the book from his grasp. "I have been reading it," he informed his surprised mate. "I do not find it dull in the least. To read of humans in far away places, of their culture and way of life, is fascinating! Do you not think so? See, here..." He pointed to some black and white photographs. "These carvings look similar in form to the stone we found in the garden."

Jim shook his head. "I know I said it looked Mayan when we found it," he admitted. "But how realistic is it to think that your elven ancestors actually brought that stone with them from Mexico? What proof do we have it was even the elves who brought it here?"

"We have none," B'layr agreed. "But someday, I would like to investigate." He sighed, closing the book. "It is a mystery that will go unresolved for many Turns-of-Seasons. I cannot leave while there are elflings to raise." His hand rested over his belly, which was still flat, except to the discerning eyes of the Sentry.

Jim rested his hand on top of his mate's. "It's going to be fine," he lied. "Maybe you should rest now." He pressed against a gently resisting shoulder, pushing B'layr down into the pillows. "I can read to you later."

Worn out from the persistent nausea, the elf put up only a token objection to the suggestion. Jim tossed the book on the top of the pile in the box and pulled the blankets up, tucking B'layr into bed.

"G'night, Sweetheart." Jim leaned down to press his lips against B'layr's forehead. "Have a good nap."

~oO0Oo~

The nausea lasted into B'layr's second quarter of pregnancy, but began to fade as the first fragile signs of spring made their appearance in the form of hardy alpine flowers peeking through the snow.

K'tan leaned over the prominent swell of B'layr's belly, examining his patient closely. He looked up at the Sentry. "All seems to be well; would you not agree?"

Jim nodded. "I can't tell much by touch alone, but the baby seems to be developing on schedule. What I wouldn't give for an ultrasound right now," he sighed.

"Ultrasound?" B'layr, ever curious about humans and their inventions, looked to his mate.

"It's medical technology," Jim tried to explain, gesturing uselessly with his hands. "It uses sound waves to see images inside the body. It's particularly useful in seeing a growing fetus inside the womb."

"To see with sound..." B'layr's voice held awe. "You accuse the elves of possessing magic, and yet your people seem to have even greater miracles."

"Yeah, well," Jim mumbled. "It's not going to do us any good here."

"No," K'tan agreed, "but I think it is safe to say that B'layr has progressed nearly twice as long with this pregnancy as he did with the last. That is a good sign."

"May I get out of bed soon?" B'layr wondered, eager to stretch his legs again.

"Only when there is someone here to assist you," K'tan ordered. "You are weak from your confinement. It would not do to have you fall. And be well aware of your limitations; return to bed when you feel weary. Do not let your pride get in the way of your health."

"Yes, Healer," B'layr agreed, a mischievous smile lighting his face. "Could someone help me now? I would dearly love to spend some time weaving."

Jim helped his mate to scoot to the edge of the mattress. Then he and K'tan flanked B'layr, lifting him to his feet. B'layr took an unsteady step, gasping with surprise at the effort it took.

"Perhaps I am not ready," he grudgingly admitted.

"You have spent over three moons in your bed," K'tan needlessly reminded him. "Because of that, your legs are weak. Lean on us; let us help."

Jim had to fight the urge to pick B'layr up and carry him over to the pile of furs behind his loom. As much as he wanted to coddle his mate, he realized that B'layr needed this; needed to regain lost strength. Finally, they made it across the room, with B'layr sinking gratefully onto the furs.

Long fingers traced the partially completed design that had waited patiently on the loom for its master's return. Picking up the weft thread, B'layr quickly passed it through the warp, and then patiently hammered the thread against the one below. Jim watched the process, made to look simple by the practiced hands of his lover.

B'layr looked up and smiled. "This is heaven. I have missed working with my hands."

"Do not tire yourself in your eagerness to see progress," warned K'tan, worried that his patient would lose all track of time while concentrating on his weaving.

"I'll see to it that he doesn't work too hard," Jim assured the Healer.

"Then I will leave you to enjoy your new freedom." K'tan turned and exited the cabin with a cool professionalism.

"You do not need to hover," B'layr said with a chuckle, looking up at his protective mate.

"Who's hovering?" Jim's eyes widened innocently. "I'm just enjoying watching you enjoy yourself."

"Uh-huh," B'layr agreed. "Well, you can just watch from over there, then," he said, pointing to the dining table before dismissing his mate and turning back to his work.

Reluctantly, Jim moved over to the table and pretended to work on the jigsaw puzzle spread across its surface. In reality, his attention was still focused on B'layr. It wasn't the first time his Sentry senses had been useful for covert surveillance.

After about a half hour of activity, B'layr was beginning to show signs of strain. He stopped, occasionally, to rest and examine his work; the weaving process itself slowed to a snail's pace. Suddenly, Jim was at his elbow.

"I think that's enough for the first day out of bed."

B'layr nodded. "I believe you are correct. I did not expect to tire this easily."

"You're going to have to work your way up slowly," Jim told him. "You still have to be careful. This pregnancy isn't out of the woods yet."

B'layr allowed his mate to assist him back to the bed. "Thank you for allowing me some time to weave. It felt good to be out of bed, no matter how briefly."

Jim settled next to the tired elf, brushing an errant strand of hair from B'layr's face. "I only want what's best for you and the baby."

"The elfling is well," B'layr assured him, rubbing his hand over the swell of his belly. "I will be careful."

"Are you hungry?"

B'layr looked thoughtful. "Do you have any meat broth? That would be sufficient," he answered.

"Not here, but they always have something at the long house. I'll check." Jim rose from the bed, tucking the blankets around his mate before heading to the cabin door. "I'll be right back."

Jim returned a few minutes later with a mug of hot broth to find B'layr buried in another book. "What are you reading?" He settled on the mattress, handing the soup to his mate.

B'layr sipped appreciatively before answering. "Another of the library books about anthropology. There were three in this box. Do you know if we have any others?"

"I don't know, I'd have to look," Jim answered honestly. Sliding from the bed, he approached the stack of boxes that still held the majority of their books and began to dig. "Here's one on archeology," he said, holding it up for B'layr to see.

"Archeology ... what is that?"

"It's kind of like anthropology, only these guys dig up the homesteads of ancient people, studying their buildings, tools, pottery, et cetera." He carried the book over to the bed.

"Sounds interesting," B'layr agreed, reaching for the tome. "I learn much about your people from these books."

Jim chuckled. "You'd still be shocked by the people on the streets of Cascade," he assured his mate. "Those ancient humans lived more like the elves do now, than what currently resides in our cities."

"Someday, I would like to return to Cascade." B'layr's voice was wistful. "While it was a frightening place, it was also interesting."

"I'll take you back," Jim promised. "But we'll have to wait until things begin to pass for normal around here."

B'layr chuckled. "That is not likely to happen for a while yet." Setting the book down, he concentrated on drinking the warm broth.

~oO0Oo~

"You've made a lot of progress in just a week," Jim commented, admiring the nearly finished blanket on B'layr's loom.

"I just need to finish it off, and it will be done," the elf agreed. "However, that is slow and tedious work, and I have done enough for today. Help me up?"

Jim offered a hand, pulling B'layr to his feet. As the couple walked across the room, a strong metallic scent accosted Jim's nose. Glancing down, he saw a bright red droplet of blood trickle down B'layr's leg. Scooping the elf into his arms, Jim carried him the rest of the way to the bed.

"Jim? What is happening?" B'layr asked, just before the first cramp gripped him. "Ohhhhh!" He curled around himself, muttering his fear again. "What is happening?"

"I don't know, my soul. Just relax. Please. There's blood." Jim pushed gently on the elf's shoulders, forcing him to lie back on the pillows.

"Tell me what is wrong!" B'layr insisted. "Where is this blood?"

"You're bleeding from your womb," Jim answered softly. "Please relax, B'layr. Let me check." He laid his head on the rounding belly, listening for the reassuring heartbeat of their child. "Oh, my God..."

"What? What is it?" B'layr's voice was frantic. "Tell me I am not losing our child!"

"There are two." Jim looked up with surprise into the frightened blue eyes of his mate.

"Two?" The pronouncement immediately quieted the worried elf. "How can that be? You have heard only one heartbeat all these moons."

"Remember how I said the heartbeat was loud and strong?" B'layr nodded. "I'm guessing that's because the twin heartbeats were in perfect synchronization," Jim said. "They're just now separating."

"And that would cause the bleeding?" B'layr's voice was hopeful.

Jim shook his head. "That's not very likely. I should get K'tan to come examine you."

"Do not leave me!" B'layr grasped at Jim's arm, unwilling to be left alone.

"Mother? Sire?" L'anin stepped through the door of the cabin, quickly taking in the sight of his distraught parents.

"Go fetch K'tan," Jim ordered. "Hurry! It's an emergency."

Without further questions, L'anin turned and ran from the cabin, heading to the long house in search of the Healer.

"Everything's going to be fine," Jim tried to assure his restless mate. "You just need to relax. Remember what K'tan said about avoiding stress."

"But our babies; they are going to be all right?" B'layr sniffed back the tears of fear.

"I don't know, Sweetheart," Jim honestly replied. "We'll have to wait and see."

L'anin returned with K'tan in tow. "What is the emergency here?" the Healer asked, approaching the bed.

"B'layr began to bleed when he got up from his weaving this afternoon," Jim explained. "The cramps started soon after I got him to the bed." He paused, and then looked the Healer in the eye. "He carries twins again."

The Healer's eyes lit up. "That is indeed a miracle." Turning his attention, he addressed his patient. "Bend your knees and spread them, so that I may get a good look."

Jim helped B'layr to raise his legs to the requested position, exposing his genitals and the slightly distended opening to the birth canal. K'tan probed carefully, inserting two fingers into his patient. B'layr groaned at the intrusion, which brought on another painful cramp.

"Your body is preparing for the birth of the elflings," K'tan announced, pulling out and wiping his hand. "I am sorry, Bearer."

"No!" B'layr screamed. "I will not lose them! I cannot lose them! I have done everything, everything that I have been told. I have been careful; I have rested most of my days."

"Shhh, shhh..." Jim pushed sweat-matted hair from B'layr's forehead. "It's going to be all right, my soul. I'm here with you; I won't let anything happen to you."

"The elflings ... save the elflings..." B'layr's voice was a pathetic plea buried beneath a groan, as another contraction worked to expel the young life from his womb.

Jim rested his head on the distended abdomen. "I hear only one heartbeat," he whispered.

"They have synchronized again?" B'layr asked.

"I don't think so," Jim answered, dashing his mate's hope. "This heartbeat is weak and irregular; and there is only the one."

"Relax, Bearer." K'tan's voice came from between B'layr's spread legs. "Allow your body to open."

"No." B'layr shook his head wildly. "No! I will not lose another elfling!" He dropped his knees and rolled onto his side. "I will do whatever you tell me. I will rest in bed for the remainder of the pregnancy. I promise, I will be good."

"Oh, God, B'layr!" Jim petted and stroked his distraught soulmate, trying to get the elf to relax. "You didn't do anything wrong. This isn't your fault, Sweetheart!"

"Noooo..." B'layr groaned, refusing to cooperate.

K'tan looked up from his vigil. "I have some herbs to make a tea that will relax him." Getting up, he walked over to the fireplace where a pot of hot water was kept ready. He found a cup and filled it with the herbs, poured the hot water over the top, and waited for the concoction to steep. When it was ready, he carried it to the bed and handed the cup to Jim.

"This still has the leaves in it," the Sentry protested, blowing on the hot drink to cool it down a bit.

"Chewing on the leaves will enhance the effect of the tea," K'tan told him. "Make the Bearer drink."

Jim glanced up at the Healer, resentful of the emotionless tone he used. Turning his attention back to his lover, he smoothed more of the matted hair from the troubled face. "B'layr? B'layr, you need to drink this." He placed the cup at the elf's lips, supporting his head so that he could swallow.

B'layr's eyes were glazed with pain and worry. He blinked slowly, trying to clear his vision as he felt the cup being pressed against his mouth. He sipped at the bitter liquid, wrapping his hands around Jim's to guide the cup.

"That's it, B'layr. Not too fast, now." Jim smiled encouragingly at his mate while the elf continued to drink.

The medicine acted quickly, and Jim felt B'layr's grip loosen and fall from the cup. He set the tea aside, helping the Healer to roll his mate over onto his back. They lifted his knees, exposing B'layr's center to K'tan. The sphincter muscle was relaxing, and thick blood oozed from the opening.

"Rub his belly; help him to relax," K'tan said softly as he knelt between B'layr's spread legs.

"My baby ... Cannot lose..." B'layr whispered, groggy from the drink.

Jim positioned himself at B'layr's side, lightly rubbing the distended abdomen.

"Save the elflings," B'layr continued to plead.

"We're doing our best, my soul," Jim assured him. "Everything will be all right."

"You will save them."

Jim's heart was heavy. He knew that already one of the twins was dead, and the other was dying. As he kept up the gentle massage, he delivered the bad news. "One has already died. I'm sorry, Love," he added as B'layr began to wail.

"Nooooo...! They live! Tell me they both live!" Despite the sedative, B'layr began to twist on the bed.

"Hold him still!" K'tan demanded. He had two fingers of each hand inside his patient, stretching the reluctant orifice to allow the fetus to be expelled.

Throwing his body across B'layr's, Jim fought to hold him down. "I'm sorry ... I'm sorry..." he repeated, sobbing along with his mate.

A gasp from the Healer caught Jim's attention. "It was female." K'tan held the bloody fetus in the palm of his hand. "Another miracle," he whispered, tears falling from his eyes for the loss of the precious life. He wrapped the elfling in a fresh cloth and set it aside. "You said there were two?" he asked. Jim nodded. Laying his head against B'layr's stomach, he listened before shaking his head.

"The second twin lives!" B'layr declared, suddenly alert and fighting again.

"No. No, Sweetheart. The heartbeat is gone." Jim broke the news as gently as he could. "We lost them both. I'm so sorry, my soul."

"The contractions have stopped!" B'layr declared. "The second twin does not wish to be birthed. He lives."

Jim looked up at the confused Healer. "The contractions have indeed ceased," K'tan acknowledged. "There is no sign of the second fetus."

"There's no heartbeat!" Jim insisted.

"If the child has died in B'layr's womb, it must be removed or the Bearer will die," K'tan pronounced. "The contractions have stopped. There is only one alternative; cut the child from the womb as you did before."

"No!" All the color drained from Jim's face. "My butchering nearly killed B'layr the last time," he reminded the Healer. "I won't risk that again."

"Then you condemn the Bearer to a slow and painful death." K'tan covered the shivering body of his patient and picked up the small bundle of cloth that contained the miscarried fetus. "We will have the burial ceremony in the morning."

"Wait! Don't leave," Jim insisted. "There's another alternative. I can call Steven. He'll send a helicopter to pick us up and I can take B'layr to the city where real surgeons can remove the fetus."

"No, no...." B'layr shook beneath the blankets, tremors wracking his body. "The baby is alive."

Jim settled briefly next to his lover. "B'layr, Sweetheart, listen to me. You're feverish; you don't know what you're saying. The baby is dead, my soul. Please, let us help you."

"Nooooo...." The whispered cry was heartbreaking. As Jim attempted to stand, to reach the emergency radio, B'layr grabbed hold. "Do not leave me. We need you."

"There is no 'we', my soul; only you. Let me help." Jim pried himself away from the iron grip of his mate and went to the radio. It took all of his considerable concentration to make the call and the arrangements with Steven, while shutting out the anguished protests of his soulmate. Finally, it was done. "The helicopter will meet us at the clearing in an hour," Jim told the assembled elves. K'tan and L'anin nodded, but B'layr remained quiet and still.

"Will you need assistance, Sire?" L'anin glanced worriedly at his Bearer, and then met the eyes of his father.

"I think this is something we best do alone," Jim said softly. "B'layr is already upset. I know he'd be embarrassed by making a scene in front of his family and the tribe. If we go alone, there won't be anyone to see."

L'anin nodded, and then stepped to his Bearer's side. "Mother?" He picked up one cool, unresponsive hand. "You have done well. The tribe holds you in great honor for your sacrifices. That this has happened in no way reflects upon you. Go with J'anin; be well." He stepped back so that Jim could bundle B'layr into blankets for the trip. "You will contact us through the radio? Let us know that he is well?"

Jim nodded, picking up his burden and heading for the door. "I will. Meantime, you stand as Chieftain and Sentry in my absence. Guard the tribe; keep it safe."

Jim hurried along the path as quickly as carrying his burden would allow. He reached the clearing and dialed up his hearing, searching for the coming helicopter. Within five minutes, the distant sound of rotors cut through the air, becoming louder and more distinct with each passing moment.

The Sentry was forced to dial back his hearing as the chopper approached. He began to run toward it before it had even settled fully on the ground. Ducking under the whirling blades, Jim made a dash for the back seat, settling himself as best he could with B'layr nestled in his lap. He motioned to the pilot, who immediately took off, flying low over the trees.

Once they were airborne, Jim checked on his mate. B'layr's fever had been increasing, and now the elf was covered in a fine sheen of perspiration. Clouded blue eyes blinked open to watch him.

"The baby is going to live." A weak smile curved the corners of B'layr's lips. "I can feel him moving."

Jim bent down to press a kiss against the feverish brow. His soulmate was delirious, so he played on the fact to keep B'layr calm. "Everything is going to be all right. It won't be long now."

"Where are we going?" B'layr struggled to sit up to see where they were.

Jim kept a tight hold on the bundle of blankets. He didn't need the panic attack he knew would ensue if his mate realized they were flying out of the forest. "It's all right. Settle down. I'm taking you to a special doctor."

"He will help our baby?"

"Yes. Yes, Sweetheart. He'll help. He'll make everything better. You'll see."

"How soon?"

"Soon," Jim answered. "Very soon. Go to sleep, my soul. Rest."

"For the baby." The blue eyes slid closed, the heavy lids too great a weight for the tired elf.

"Yes," Jim whispered, wishing it was true.

~oO0Oo~

The helicopter landed on the roof of a building just outside Cascade, in the prosperous Kirkland district. Steven met his brother as Jim climbed down.

"Sorry we had to meet again under these circumstances," Steven greeted. "The doctors are waiting."

Reluctantly, Jim laid his burden on the gurney that was waiting for them. "Just how good is this place? We've got a major publicity problem if word leaks out about the elves."

Steven smiled and followed along as the gurney was wheeled toward the roof elevator. "The best. This place was founded by Clive Kirkland himself."

"Cascade's resident billionaire?" Jim was impressed.

"The man craves his privacy. This facility has been used by politicians, movie stars, you name it. Confidentiality is the name of the game here. That's part of the reason the health care doesn't come cheap."

"I don't care about the cost. I care about getting B'layr the help he needs and keeping it quiet."

"Then you've come to the right place," Steven assured his brother.

"Do they know anything yet? Did you tell them anything?" Jim asked.

Steven shook his head. "I thought I'd leave that to you, once you'd decided this was the right place. Are you comfortable here?"

"About as comfortable as I'd be anywhere, exposing B'layr like this. If you say this place is safe, I believe you."

They reached the admittance area and B'layr was wheeled away. Jim broke free of the nurse who was interviewing him to follow the gurney.

"Sir, you can't..." the nurse protested.

Steven laid a hand on her arm. "Let them go. They need to be together now. Tell me what you need to know; I have all their medical information." He watched as his family disappeared behind the swinging stainless steel doors, and then turned back to the nurse.

Inside the examination room, the doctor peeled the damp blankets away from the sweating body. "What can you tell me about his condition?" He turned to look at Jim.

"He's miscarrying, and one fetus is still left inside," Jim blurted out.

"Excuse me?" The doctor turned an astonished look on the man standing beside him.

"B'layr is ... well, he's not human," Jim began.

The doctor eyed him warily. "You're not trying to tell me this young man is some creature from another planet? Please, Mr. Ellison, this is a respected medical facility, not a mental institution."

"He's an elf; a hermaphrodite," Jim explained. "Please, doctor, he's dying. I brought him here because I understood there were no questions asked, and that you could help."

The doctor nodded. "Steven Ellison is well respected in the community. If he recommended us, then we are undoubtedly the facility you need." He snagged a passing nurse. "Ellie, could you bring me the portable ultrasound, please?"

"Yes, sir, Doctor Harrison." The nurse scuttled off to fetch the requested equipment.

While they waited, the doctor took B'layr's vitals. "Well, except for the ears, I'd say you have a perfectly normal human male here."

"You'd say wrong," Jim stated firmly.

"His temperature is elevated, 104� Fahrenheit; his skin is perspiration soaked and clammy; his respiration is shallow and erratic. Whatever the cause, this young man is in serious trouble."

"Here's the equipment you requested," Ellie said, wheeling in a cart with the ultrasound machine.

"My God!" Doctor Harrison said moments later as he moved the sensor across B'layr's belly. "There's a fully developed pregnancy here!"

"I told you," Jim growled. "He was carrying twins, but miscarried. He lost one, but the other is still in there."

"Yes, I can see that," the doctor muttered. He listened with his stethoscope as he continued to run the sensor over the elf's belly. "I can't hear a thing; the baby's not moving. Based on B'layr's symptoms and what you've told me, I agree with your diagnosis. We'll prep him for immediate surgery."

"May I stay with him?"

"Just stay out of the way," the doctor agreed. "Mr. Ellison?" Doctor Harrison turned as he headed to wash for the surgery. "There's an observation room over the operating theater. Why don't you observe from there? If we have any questions or comments, we can reach you directly."

"Thank you," Jim answered fervently. Once B'layr was prepped and the gurney taken away, he headed up to the observation room.

Jim could barely recognize his soulmate beneath all the sterile drapes. The long auburn locks had been coiled inside a paper cap, further masking his features. As the first incision was made, Jim grimaced. His mind flew back to the dreadful day the twins were born, and B'layr had almost died. He watched in horrified fascination as the dead fetus was lifted out.

Doctor Harrison looked up at the observation window. "It was a girl," he informed the distraught father. Unabashed by his grief, Jim wiped at his tearing eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. "Mr. Ellison?" The doctor interrupted again. When he had Jim's attention, he continued. "The uterus is badly damaged. There's no hope for a full-term pregnancy with it in this condition, and there is no way to sufficiently repair it. Do I have your permission to remove the organ?"

Jim's eyes went wide. A hysterectomy had not been a part of his plans. However, the news didn't surprise him, based on what he had assumed since the crude C-section that had given birth to K'tiri. Silently, he nodded his consent, knowing the devastation this surgery would bring to his gentle soulmate.

Once the surgery was complete, Doctor Harrison joined Jim in the observation room. "It will take a few minutes to clean him up, and then you can go down to recovery and sit with him until he wakes." Jim nodded in silent agreement, too upset to trust his voice. "I also need to know your wishes for the disposition of the fetus."

"I, uh..." Jim stuttered. "We want it preserved, so that we can take her home for burial with her sister."

"I understand," the doctor said, laying a comforting hand on Jim's back. "B'layr is going to recover. We'll want to keep him here for five to seven days for observation. Just to make sure no infection sets in. Then, if possible, I'd like you both to stay in the area for at least another week after that. I want to make certain there is no chance of a complication before sending you back home."

"That won't be a problem," Jim assured him, noting that he'd have to tell Steven to open the loft again.

~oO0Oo~

Jim sat quietly at the bedside, waiting for B'layr to wake. He gathered one cool, limp hand in both of his, cradling the delicate strength and wondering how he was going to be able to tell his mate that he'd never bear again. The knowledge that the second lost twin was also female was nearly as heartbreaking as the news of the hysterectomy. B'layr was strong, but if anything could break him, this news would be it.

"You don't have to tell him anything for a while yet." One of the nurses walked up to check on her patient. "When he wakes from the anesthesia, he'll be groggy. He won't remember anything you tell him. Just assure him that he's well, and that everything is going to be fine."

"Thank you." Jim glanced briefly at the pretty brunette, and then turned his attention back to his sleeping soulmate. After what seemed an interminable amount of time, the sleepy blue eyes opened. "Hey, there, Imp." Jim squeezed B'layr's hand and grinned. "I thought you'd never wake up."

Large eyes tracked around the strange room. "Where are we? We are not at home."

"No, my soul. We're in a hospital. You were really sick and needed special care," Jim explained.

"I remember you speaking of hospitals," B'layr said. "You would risk bringing me here?"

"I didn't have a choice. It was this, or watch you die." Jim squeezed the hand he held again. "I couldn't lose you. Steven tells me this place is the best for confidentiality. No one will ever know you were here."

"The baby?"

"What's important, is that you're just fine," Jim said, avoiding the question. "It was rough there for a while, but the doctor says that everything is all right."

"That is good." B'layr curled his fingers around Jim's hand and smiled, letting his eyes drift closed. "I am tired."

"Then rest, my soul. I'll be here when you wake up."

~oO0Oo~

"I don't know how to tell him, Steven." Jim's voice was choked with emotion. "The news will kill him as surely and cleanly as a knife to the heart."

"He'll recover, Jim," Steven assured him. "I've met B'layr. He's strong, both in mind and body. I don't doubt the news will devastate him, but he'll get over it, eventually. You just have to be patient and give him time."

"He was so sure, so sure.... He was convinced the second child lived. To tell him he lost twin daughters... Do you know how rare female elves are? Do you?" Jim turned on his brother, getting right into his face. "There is one ... one female in all the tribes, and B'layr gave birth to her! It's because of K'tiri's birth that I'm currently Chieftain of the Ten Tribes. I'm holding the place until she becomes of age.

"Steven, B'layr lost two, two females with this pregnancy. The fact that he conceived twin females at all will give him status among the tribes greater than any Bearer has ever known. His place is secure. But the loss will kill his spirit. He gave over three months of his life to preserving those elflings. I can't imagine telling him he lost both."

Steven reached across the cafeteria table to grasp his brother's hand. "The one thing you do not want to do is lie to him. As hard as it will be for you to say and for him to hear, you've got to lay it all out. From what you've told me, the elves believe in truth and honor above all things. To try and spare his feelings will only cause greater problems for you later. And, Jim," he paused, capturing his brother's eyes. "It's important that you're the one to tell him. Don't let him hear this from some doctor he's never even met."

Jim pushed his chair back and stood, brushing against Steven as he began to walk away. "Thanks, little brother. You're right, and I'd better be getting back before he wakes and wonders where I am."

"Give me a holler if you need anything," Steven called to Jim's retreating back.

~oO0Oo~

"Jim?"

"Right here, my soul," Jim said, approaching the bed and lifting one pale hand to his lips for a kiss.

"What happened? How is our child?" B'layr's eyes were round with pain and worry. "My belly; it hurts."

Jim sat on the mattress next to his beloved and took a deep breath. "The elfling couldn't be saved, Love. She was already dead when they opened your womb."

"No! Oh, Jim ... please tell me that is not so! A daughter? Twin girls? I lost them both?"

"You didn't lose them, B'layr," Jim assured him. "You speak as though you did something wrong, that it was your fault. It was mine."

"Yours?" The confession stopped the elf in his tracks. "How could it possibly be yours? I am the Bearer."

"But it's because of me that you can no longer carry a pregnancy," Jim explained. "When I gave you that field C-section to save K'tiri, I thought I had already lost you. My only thought was to save our child."

"A noble decision," B'layr agreed. "But what has that to do with this?"

"I butchered you," Jim admitted softly. "I'd never done a C-section before, I'd only watched them performed on video. The emphasis was on saving the child, not you, although I'm grateful beyond measure that you're still a part of my life.

"B'layr ... that surgery damaged your womb beyond its capacity to heal properly. I'm the cause of your miscarriages."

"But we will try again?" The elf's voice was small and hopeful.

"Oh, God ... how am I going to say this?" Jim muttered.

"Say what, my heart?" B'layr squeezed the hand that gripped his, encouraging his mate to continue.

"During the surgery, the doctor asked for permission to remove your uterus. I agreed." Jim rushed to get the words out before his courage failed him completely. "Your uterus was damaged beyond the ability of the surgeon to repair it. I couldn't bear seeing you get pregnant time after time, and lose the elflings. B'layr, the tribe will understand. You must understand. To not bear more children is far better than bringing a life into existence when you know it won't survive. The tribe couldn't abide the continual loss. Your health wouldn't survive. I'd lose you, B'layr. I can't do that. I just can't."

B'layr stared out the window at the bright blue spring sky and the trees budding with blossoms and new leaves, his eyes unfocused, unseeing.

"B'layr?" Jim shook his mate's shoulder. "B'layr, say something. Tell me how you feel."

The elf continued to stare, paying no heed to his visitor. It was as if Jim had ceased to exist.

"Oh, God ... what have I done?" Jim leaned down to kiss the cool forehead, brushing hair away from the open, sightless eyes.

A nurse stepped into the room to check on her patient. "Oh, hello," she greeted the somber man sitting on the bed. "You must be Jim. My name is Rachel. How's B'layr doing since he woke up?"

"Not so good," Jim said with a sigh. "I told him what happened. He didn't take it well." He waved at the comatose-appearing elf.

Rachel moved around the bed to take B'layr's vitals. Satisfied he was responding well to the surgery, she gently shook his shoulder. "B'layr? I need you to tell me how you're feeling?" No response. "Can you tell me how much pain you're feeling? On a scale of one to ten, with one being almost nothing and ten being the worst pain you've ever imagined, where is your current discomfort?" No response. Rachel turned to Jim and shook her head. "He's in shock. The news must have affected him very deeply."

"You can't begin to imagine," Jim said softly. "Will he snap out of it?"

"Eventually. In most cases, patients recover from this kind of news. You must be patient with him. Don't try to rush the healing. He must internalize what you've told him and come to it on his own terms." She adjusted the flow of saline in the IV before addressing Jim again. "This evening, we'll want to get B'layr up for a walk up and down the hall. We can't have our surgical patients wallowing in bed."

"What if he won't walk?"

"Even patients as non-responsive as B'layr currently is, will usually get up for their walk. He may not remember doing it, but he'll be fine. If you need anything, anything at all, just ring the call button."

"Thanks." Jim's voice was despondent. He watched the nurse as she walked down the hall, leaving him alone with his lover. "Come on, Imp, say something. Scream. Yell. Tell me to take a hike off a cliff ... but please, no more of this silence." His voice dropped to a whisper. "This hurts worse than any words."

B'layr continued to stare out the window, lost in his own internal world.

>>>>*<<<<

"During the surgery, the doctor asked for permission to remove your uterus. I agreed."

B'layr didn't hear anything more. His mind spun wildly out of control, his soul screaming at the loss that could never be regained. When he opened his eyes, he found himself standing in an ancient forest surrounded by a pack of wolves; a deep blue tinted the landscape, making it seem otherworldly.

"Why are you here? What do you seek?"

B'layr looked around. The voice had come seemingly from out of thin air.

"Why are you here? What do you seek?" the voice repeated.

"I-I do not know why I am here. Who are you?" B'layr continued to look around, amazed. The wolves that surrounded him did not approach, their manner unthreatening.

"We are the Ancients." As B'layr watched, the largest of the wolves began to morph. It stood on its hind legs and began to take on the shape of an elf dressed in ceremonial Shaman garb.

"Where are we? Why am I here?" B'layr asked, confused.

"We are in the Between," the Shaman answered. "You are a Seeker. What is it that you seek?"

B'layr turned in a slow circle, watching as the other wolves morphed into elves. "I-I seek my place," he stuttered, wide-eyed. "I was the Bearer of Sentries, but that has been taken from me."

"You have many talents, Seeker. Why does loss of this one facet of your life affect you so deeply?"

"I am the only Bearer in my generation. It is my duty to the tribe."

"You have already born three Sentries, have you not?" the Shaman asked. B'layr nodded his agreement. "Two are twins, one a female."

"Yes. And that was indeed a gift," B'layr agreed. "But I am young. I could have borne many more."

"Walk with me, Seeker." The Shaman broke from the circle, heading into the ancient old growth forest. B'layr followed silently.

>>>>*<<<<

"Let's see if we can get him on his feet," Rachel said later that evening. She walked around the bed and began shifting the IV lines so that they would be out of the way while she and Jim lifted B'layr to a sitting position.

"He's still totally unresponsive," Jim complained. "I can't get him to say a word. His eyes are open, but it's like he doesn't see anything."

"He's looking inward right now," the nurse acknowledged. "He'll come back to you. Meanwhile, we need to get him walking." B'layr's body cooperated in a mechanical fashion. He stood quietly while Rachel adjusted the IV pole and turned to Jim. "You'll have to push the pole for him. I don't trust him to not leave it behind in his current state. Just take his arm and guide him." She helped the pair maneuver through the door. "Take him down to the end of the hall and back," she instructed. "That should be enough for a first time up."

B'layr walked quietly beside Jim as they made their way slowly down the corridor. "I know you're hurting, my soul," Jim whispered. "But please come back to me. I wouldn't blame you for hating me, for taking your choice from you, but I only did what I thought was the best for you; for both of us."

B'layr's eyes were fixed straight ahead, still staring sightlessly, as though he were looking through a veil between this world and the next.

>>>>*<<<<

B'layr walked through the blue world beside the ancient Shaman. Eventually, their way opened onto a large clearing. The area was filled with elves, males and females, laughing and crowding together. Many were pregnant, and it became known that they were gathered to witness an important birth. The laboring elf lay upon the fur-covered platform, panting through the contractions while the tribe's Shaman attended his needs.

"L'anin!" B'layr gasped. "My son!"

"Gives birth to many Sentries," the Shaman informed him. "Your daughter, K'tiri, is responsible for the increase in the female elf population, while T'erin has moved to the Panther Tribe with his soulmate to Sire and Bear many additions to the tribe. Your contribution has not been forgotten, Seeker. If not for you, the elves would have slowly disappeared from the earth. Your Gift revitalized a dying race. It is time you turn to your other considerable talents."

"I am a simple tanner," B'layr complained. "And I weave. My contributions are needed, but are hardly vital to the tribe."

"You are a scholar, as well," the Shaman reminded him.

"Scholar?" B'layr's voice was colored with confusion.

>>>>*<<<<

"Please, B'layr. You have to eat something," Jim said, encouraging the comatose elf. "It's been days. Even with your limited needs, you must be hungry. Look, I brought your favorites; mushrooms from the Chinese market and the biggest, juiciest tomatoes the farmers' greenhouses could produce." He offered a slice of the meaty red fruit to his mate, but B'layr just sat staring into space. Defeated, Jim finally pushed the bed table aside, stretching out on the narrow mattress next to his lover.

>>>>*<<<<

"The stone from your garden intrigues you," the Shaman said.

B'layr looked up, startled. "How did you know...?"

"Need you ask, Seeker? I know what I know."

"That stone is the marker for the graves of our lost elflings," B'layr informed him.

"It has greater purpose," the Shaman hinted.

B'layr shook his head. "How could a piece of stone hold great purpose?"

"You are the Seeker," the Shaman intoned. "Seek knowledge and find your answer."

"This is my new purpose, my calling? To be a Seeker of Knowledge?" As they spoke, the pair had slowly returned to the original clearing where B'layr had first encountered the Ancients. He turned in a slow circle, only to find himself alone once again.

"Seek the truth. Find the answer." The voice of the Shaman spoke from nowhere and everywhere at once, before fading to silence.

Gradually, the blue light shifted, becoming bright and harsh. B'layr blinked and rubbed at his eyes.

>>>>*<<<<

"B'layr? B'layr!" Jim jumped up and grabbed his mate's shoulders, shaking lightly.

"Jim?" The elf looked around the stark hospital room, one hand reaching down to confirm the incision in his belly. "How long have I been gone?"

"Four days! God, B'layr, I didn't think you were coming back to me," Jim sobbed.

B'layr reached up a hand to brush the tears from his soulmate's cheek. "Do not grieve, my heart. I know you did what you did for a purpose. I am no longer the Bearer...."

"It was necessary," Jim interrupted. "You would have never held another pregnancy to term."

"Shhh, Jim, shhh...." B'layr petted the tear-stained cheek. "The life of the tribe is ensured. I am no longer the Bearer, but the Seeker."

"What does that mean?" Jim turned a quizzical look on his mate.

"I do not know, exactly," B'layr admitted, "but it is something I must discover. It is my new purpose, my new place within the tribe. When we leave here, we must stay nearby for a while, correct?"

"Yes," Jim agreed. "I had Steven open up the loft. We'll move in there until the doctors release you to return home to the forest."

"I think that at least some of the answers I seek might be found at the place you called 'library'. Will you take me there?"

"It may be a few days before you're up to the kind of walking around that visiting the library will entail," Jim warned him. "There are other ways to find answers to questions, like the Internet."

"Internet?"

"Computers," Jim tried to explain. "I'll show you when you're released from the hospital."

"How much longer must I stay here?"

"The doctors are pleased with your physical recovery, but we've all been a bit concerned when you zoned and didn't come back," Jim told him.

"I was Between," B'layr said, his eyes taking on a glassy look. "I spoke with a Shaman of the Ancients. He opened my eyes; showed me the future of the Tribes and my place in them. He seemed very wise."

"I don't understand."

"Neither do I, my heart," B'layr admitted. "But because of what he showed me, I am at peace."

~oO0Oo~

"Everything looks good," Doctor Harrison said. "You can go ahead and get dressed at any time." Turning to Jim, he added, "You will be staying in town for the next week, at least?"

"I have an apartment on Prospect," Jim replied. "The address should be in the admittance papers."

The doctor thumbed through his records. "Ah, yes; 852 Prospect, Apartment 307. See to it that your partner takes it easy the next few days. After that, if he feels up to spending the day out, it would be beneficial to enjoy some of this nice spring weather."

"Thanks, Doc." Jim shook the man's hand and waited until he had left the room, then tossed B'layr's clothes in the direction of the bed. "Get dressed, Imp. We're outta here!"

An orderly arrived with a wheelchair to take B'layr down to the loading area. Jim walked next to his soulmate as they maneuvered their way through the halls of the private hospital. "Steven is going to be picking us up and taking us to the loft," he explained. "After that, we'll have a rental car at our disposal for getting around town."

"I like your brother," B'layr said, smiling. "He would make a good addition to the tribe."

"Except that we need him here to manage the finances," Jim pointed out. "And I don't think Kallie would take too kindly to our rustic living style. The kids would love it, though." He laughed.

"Your chariot awaits," Steven announced as they wheeled into the pick-up area.

Jim helped B'layr out of the wheelchair and settled him in the center of the truck's bench seat, sandwiched between himself and his brother. "Home, James," he directed with a wave of his hand.

"Isn't that supposed to be my line?" quipped Steven as he pulled out into the morning traffic.

B'layr's eyes went wide, his head turning from side to side gathering in all the excitement of the city as they passed through. "The city has grown! There are so many people!"

"It's been over twenty-five years since you've been here," Jim reminded him. "I'm sure there have been a lot of changes in that time."

"Not all for the good," Steven lamented.

"I want to investigate, to learn more," B'layr insisted, excited by the prospect.

Jim smiled and shook his head. "You're certainly a different elf from the shy, retiring one that came here a quarter century ago."

"People change, too," B'layr said softly.

Steven pulled the truck into a parking space in the lot outside the warehouse apartments. "If you two don't mind, I'll just drop you off and let you have some private time. I've got some business matters to attend to uptown. Call me on the cell if you need me, all right?"

Jim had slipped from the truck's cab, and was helping B'layr down. "Will do, Steven. Thanks for everything."

"No problem, Bro. I may take it out in another dinner at Chuck E. Cheese before you leave."

"You've got a deal!" Jim agreed.

"Chuck E. Cheese?" B'layr asked as they made their way into the building and over to the elevator.

Jim chuckled. "Oh, you'll love Chuck E. Cheese. It's a pizza parlor playground for little kids. There's lots of noise, lots of people, lots of kids. You'll come out grateful for the low birth rate among the elves."

"I am not sure that is possible," B'layr disagreed, but he chuckled along with his mate. When they arrived at the third floor apartment, the elf stopped short just inside the door.

"Something wrong, my soul?" Jim pushed past the frozen elf, entering the apartment to look around.

"Nothing." The word was a soft sigh. B'layr stepped further into the room, admiring the stark, clean decor. "My plants, they still live." He walked over to the balcony, where the potted and hanging plants grew with verdant abandon.

Jim stepped up behind his mate. "Steven's wife, Kallie, comes in every week to see that they're watered and fed."

B'layr fingered the foliage, drinking in the smell of damp earth and growing things. "I will have to thank her."

Wrapping an arm around the elf's waist, Jim guided him away from the balcony and over to the long couch. "You need to take it easy the next few days," he reminded B'layr.

"I wish to check out this 'Internet' you spoke about," B'layr said, twisting to look around the room for the elusive item.

"Rest first," Jim said, sitting next to his lover. "Steven will be by later today to show us how everything works."

"You do not know?"

"I used to work with computers at the PD," Jim admitted, "but I'm not a world class expert with them or Internet searches."

"Then I will wait." B'layr snuggled against Jim, nuzzling behind his mate's ear.

Jim batted playfully at the cuddling elf. "Cut that out! It tickles!" He looked at the unrepentant and mischievous wide blue eyes. "You're incorrigible!"

"The doctor said intercourse was safe, so long as I was comfortable," B'layr reminded his lover.

"He also said to rest the first few days. The way you go about sex is anything but restful."

"My clothes itch."

"What?" Jim glanced at his lover, confused by the apparent non sequitur.

B'layr began to wriggle out of his jerkin and breeches, discarding the items on the floor. "You said the loft was private; I wish the freedom of nudity. Will you join me?"

Jim chuckled and shook a finger in B'layr's face. "Imp. I know you better than that. Get me undressed, and the next thing you know, we'll be making nookie on the couch."

"Is that such a bad thing?" B'layr pressed up against his mate; Jim could feel the hard column of flesh pushing into his thigh. His own erection strained at the zipper of his jeans, demanding release.

Jim scooted away from the contact, finally standing and moving to sit on the smaller couch opposite B'layr. "It is right now," he explained. "Don't get me wrong—the idea of having hot sex with you is sounding pretty good, but I don't think it's really something we should be considering at this point."

"I'm bored." The elf turned pouty lips on the Sentry, while absently stroking his ample erection.

Jim's own cock cried out for attention, throbbing mercilessly in the tight confines of his jeans. Finally, he had to get up, turning his back on the enticing sight on the couch. "How about we fire up the laptop and see if we can figure anything out on our own." He walked over to the dining table and opened the small computer.

Intrigued, B'layr abandoned his attempts to entice his mate and wandered across the room to look over Jim's shoulder. "How do you turn it on?"

"The power button is here," Jim said, pressing it. "Now we just have to wait for it to boot up."

"Boot up?" The elf pressed close, but his interest was no longer in having sex.

"The computer has to run through a start-up routine before it's ready to use," Jim explained. "There. Well, well, well, the old Cascade PD background." He chuckled and pointed to the screen. "I think Steven is trying to make me feel at home."

"What do we do next?" The excitement was beginning to show in the elf's voice.

"Well, we bring up the browser," Jim continued, clicking on an icon, "then we access the search engine—like this." He entered the Web address for Google.com and the page popped up on the screen. "Now we just have to type in some words for the computer to use to search. How about 'Mayan artifacts' to start?" He typed as he spoke, grinning when page after page of reference Web pages began to appear.

B'layr pulled up a chair and leaned in to get a closer look at the small screen. Jim opened the first Web page, and the elf began bouncing. "Look! The drawings and etchings are similar to our garden stone!"

"Told you I thought it was Mayan." Jim's voice was smug. "There's a lot of research to do before we find anything really useful, though," he added. "Are you hungry?"

"A little," B'layr admitted, tearing his attention away from the screen long enough to look at Jim.

"I'll fix us a light lunch." Jim got up and headed for the kitchen.

B'layr slid into his place in front of the computer. By the time Jim returned with their meal, the elf was deep into investigating the various links from the Web page to other similar sites. "This is great!" he enthused.

"Think you can stop long enough to have something to eat?" Jim teased.

B'layr looked up to find a plate of Chinese mushrooms and thick slabs of meaty tomato being waved under his nose. "I think I can take a break," he said, grabbing the offering and lifting a slice of tomato to his lips. "Mmmm ... ambrosia of the gods."

Jim chuckled. "Where did you hear that one?"

B'layr grinned, his chin dripping with juice. "I read it in a mythology book you brought home. Your Ancients certainly had some interesting deities."

"Yeah, well, they're good for a laugh now and then," Jim agreed.

"No, no.... Really. It's quite interesting, actually. The evolution from polytheism to monotheism is fascinating."

"Another time, Imp," Jim said, squashing the potential flood of information. "Did you find anything interesting while I was fixing lunch?"

"I was looking at some sites on a place in Mexico called Chich�n Itz�. There appears to be a large collection of Mayan ruins and artifacts in the area," B'layr informed him. "Many of the carvings look similar to our garden stone, but I could find none depicting elves."

"Why don't you finish up there," Jim said, indicating the nearly empty plate, "and then get dressed. Hard telling when Steven will show up and I don't think he's quite as comfortable with nudity as you are."

"There is nothing to be ashamed of," B'layr argued. "The human body, or in this case, elven body, is a beautiful thing. We are exactly as nature created us. Should that not be celebrated?"

"Not here, and not now," Jim insisted. "Get dressed."

B'layr set down his plate and crossed the room to where his clothes lay strewn on the floor. "We need to get Steven to 'loosen up', " he quipped as he pulled on his breeches.

"Steven is plenty loose enough," Jim said with a chuckle. Putting the dishes in the sink, he ran some water over them to let them soak and then walked into the living area to stand next to the elf. "How about we watch some TV while we wait for our instructor to show up?"

"May we cuddle?" B'layr's eyes glinted with mischief.

"If we keep our clothes on," Jim agreed.

~oO0Oo~

A knock at the door pulled the couple away from a Discovery Channel special on criminal forensics. Jim threw the door open and embraced his brother. "About time you showed up, Steven."

"Wow. You'd think I'd been away for years instead of just a few hours. Good to see you again, too, Bro. Hi, B'layr!" Steven crossed the room to greet the elf. "How are you feeling?"

"Not bad at all. Still a little sore, but I can get around all right."

"Great! Hey, looks like you've already discovered the joys of the Internet." Steven approached the laptop and tapped the mouse to bring it out of sleep mode. "I've got this puppy connected to a DSL line through your phone," he told Jim. "Any pages you access, or downloads you need, should be a snap." He sat down at the computer. "I've already bookmarked some sites you might want to check out." Pulling down the bookmark menu, he pointed out several pages. "There are library pages, everything from local, clear up to the Library of Congress. Rainier has an on-line library as well, although with the University so close, I'd highly suggest a visit when B'layr's up to going out."

"This is fantastic!" B'layr was practically salivating at the possibilities. "So much to read! I could stay here forever."

"We've got a week, two at the most," Jim reminded him. "We have a family to go home to, you know."

"Yes, I know. I miss them already. But this ... this is incredible!" B'layr pulled up a chair beside Steven who began a spiel of technical jargon that quickly had Jim lost. B'layr, however, interrupted with questions, soaking up the new knowledge like a sponge. By the time Steven left, the elf was immersed in anthropology and Mayan culture.

"Thanks a lot, Steven. You don't know how much this means. B'layr has a new purpose now. I think everything's going to be okay." Jim stood at the door, reluctant to let his brother leave.

"If you'd like to take the computer back with you, you're welcome to it," Steven offered.

"We have no electricity or phones up there." Jim sighed. "Watching him on that thing," he said, turning to look at B'layr, "makes me wish we could take it with us."

"Jim, man, you have a generator, right?" Steven asked. When Jim nodded, he continued, "I could get you an AC/DC adaptor and several replacement batteries so that you could always have one or two charged and ready to go. A cell phone with wireless Internet could be your DSL connection. Plenty of replacement batteries there, too. The technology exists; you're friggin' rich ... why not?"

Jim's face lit up. "Yeah, why not? Thanks a lot, Steven!"

"Good night, big brother." Steven slapped Jim on the shoulder and slipped out the door.

"Time for turning in, don't you think?" Jim asked, as he approached B'layr after securing the front door and prowling the perimeter to make sure the loft was safe.

The elf was bent over the computer, clicking and reading as fast as the pages would turn. "Huh?" B'layr jumped, startled, when Jim's hand landed on his shoulder.

"I said, don't you think it's time to turn in for the night?"

"Oh, sure, Jim. Just a minute, okay?"

Two hours later, Jim glanced one last time through the railing of their bedroom down at his engrossed mate. Sighing in defeat, he rolled over and went to sleep.

~oO0Oo~

Jim walked over and grabbed the mouse from B'layr's hand. The startled elf looked up, curiosity shining in his eyes. "You've spent the last three days glued to that thing," Jim complained. "It's about time you got out of the loft and stretched your legs. How about a trip to the mall?"

"Are you sure, Jim? You do remember what happened the last time we went?" B'layr studied his mate for signs that he remembered the accidental shoplifting event.

"You're older and wiser," Jim reminded him. "Besides, I need more underwear, and you could use a wardrobe update."

"Sure. Okay." B'layr pushed the chair back and stood, stretching to relieve the kinks that had settled into his joints after the marathon Internet session. "Let us go."

The mall was crowded with weekend shoppers. B'layr stayed glued to Jim's side, still a bit overwhelmed by the press of people. He paused in front of a drop-in hair salon. "Jim, would it bother you if I got my hair cut?"

"What?" Jim had walked on and had to double back.

B'layr fingered the lanky strands of his hair, which now was so long it brushed his buttocks. "I have not cut it for years. I used to wear it much shorter."

"But I like it long," Jim said, running his hand down the silky length.

"It is difficult to care for and gets in my way."

Jim sighed. "If you want, my soul. It's your hair."

The pair walked into the salon. "How may I help you?" the woman behind the counter greeted them.

"I would like to have my hair cut," B'layr informed her.

"It's lovely," the woman commented, leading him to a salon chair. "How much did you want removed?"

"I would like to wear it just below my shoulders," B'layr said, indicating the length with his hand.

The woman gathered the hair into a ponytail. "Have you considered donating your hair? There's an organization called Locks of Love that uses it to make wigs for women and children undergoing chemotherapy for cancer. The wigs give them back a measure of self-esteem while they fight their disease."

"I have no use for it," B'layr agreed. "I would not mind."

The woman put a ponytail band around the length, and then cut it off, laying the long hank of curling auburn hair on the counter. She then began to shape what was left. When B'layr left the salon, his hair appeared thicker and fuller than before, bouncing around his face and shoulders like a living thing.

"What do you think?"

Jim reached up to finger the short locks. "It's going to take some getting used to, but I like it," he admitted, smiling. "How about some lunch before we tackle the department stores?"

"Yes, I am hungry," B'layr agreed. "What do you suggest?"

"Wonder Burger, of course. You cannot go back to the forest again without at least trying a burger and fries."

"Are you certain?" B'layr looked doubtful. "I have lasted this long without trying them."

Jim grabbed B'layr's arm and began dragging him down the hall to the food court. "Of course I'm certain. You want to experience life among humans, this is it! Two Ultimate Wonder meals, please," he said, approaching the counter. Minutes later, they sat with their food and watched the other shoppers passing by.

B'layr unwrapped the burger and eyed it warily. He lifted the bun, his eyes lighting up at the slice of tomato resting on top. "Maybe this will not be so bad," he admitted, biting into the bacon-and-cheese burger. Ketchup dripped down his chin as he chewed thoughtfully.

Jim reached over to wipe the sauce away, licked his fingers and grinned. "Well?"

"It is very good," B'layr admitted with surprise, washing the bite down with some Coke. "And what is this?" he asked, lifting a small packet.

"That is ketchup. It's a condiment for the fries ... made from tomatoes." He watched as B'layr's eyes lit up again.

The elf began opening packet after packet, pouring them over the crispy potatoes until the fries were buried beneath the red sauce. Picking up one fry with his forefinger and thumb, he dropped it in his mouth, savoring the tart tang of the ketchup. "Mmmm.... This is heaven." His eyes closed and he savored the flavors exploding across his tongue.

"Earth to B'layr. Earth to B'layr." Jim called softly until the elf opened his eyes again. "You were beginning to attract attention."

B'layr looked around, blushing, as the other shoppers in the food court quickly turned their attention back to their own meals. "But it is so good! I had no idea there were so many uses for the red fruits."

"Enjoy it all you want, Imp, just do it with a little more discretion." Jim chuckled, and then dug back into his own meal.

Reluctantly, B'layr pushed the rest of his food aside. He had eaten less than half the burger and most of the fries. "I am afraid if I eat any more, I shall be ill." He noticed the look of consternation on Jim's face and rushed to explain. "The food was very good, but I cannot eat as much as you. I do not know what effect this type of food will have on my system."

"Better safe than sorry," Jim agreed. "Are you full?"

"Amply. I am now ready to shop till I drop." B'layr pushed his chair back and gathered his garbage, disposing of it in a nearby receptacle.

"I've got to learn how to use those parental controls to lock out the shopping channels," Jim muttered under his breath as he rose to follow his mate.

The shopping went efficiently. Having spotted a style of Henley shirt B'layr liked, Jim purchased a dozen in different jewel-bright colors. He especially liked the red and blue ones, which brought out B'layr's natural coloring to perfection. Flannel plaid was an unexpected hit as well. The soft fabric appealed to the elf's tactile sense, and made a reasonable second layer for the short-sleeved Henley-style shirts. Several pairs of stone washed jeans, underwear, socks and a pair of Doc Marten hiking boots, and Jim was ready to pack it all in and go home.

Loaded with packages, Jim tried to suppress a groan when B'layr stopped to look in a window of an import shop. "What is it now, Imp?"

"Is it not beautiful?" The elf pointed to a bright patchwork vest in the display. The colorful patches, predominantly blue, were backed with a plain navy blue fabric.

Jim shook his head in wonder. His mind screamed, "No way!" while his mouth said, "You want to go inside?"

B'layr darted into the shop and found a clerk who lifted the vest out of the window. B'layr's long fingers brushed reverently over the hand-woven fabric, admiring the work. "Look, Jim!" he said, holding up the tag. "It was hand-made in Guatemala!"

"What a coincidence," Jim answered dryly.

B'layr turned soulful eyes on his mate. "Please, Jim? I promise I will not ask for anything else."

Jim glanced at the price tag: $200. "B'layr...." he sighed and turned to the clerk. "You'd better throw in that white peasant shirt, too," he said. What good was having money if you couldn't splurge occasionally?

Finally, they were ready to leave. Jim loaded their purchases into the trunk of the rental car and climbed behind the wheel. "Satisfied?"

"It was a good day," B'layr agreed. "Thank you, Jim. I know you do not approve of the vest."

"It's not that I don't approve.... It's just—bright!"

"You will get used to it," B'layr said with a laugh. "When will we go to Rainier University?"

Relieved by the change of subject, Jim gave the question some thought. "You have an appointment with your surgeon the day after tomorrow. We can swing by Rainier on the way home. How does that sound?"

"It sounds fine, my heart. Thank you."

~oO0Oo~

"Any residual soreness? Pain?" Doctor Harrison asked.

"Just a little. I barely notice it anymore," B'layr told him.

"Good. Just lie back, then, and we'll remove these stitches. I imagine they itch pretty bad by now."

B'layr lay back, shivering slightly as the doctor raised the hospital gown to expose the incision site. "Yes, they do," he agreed, resisting the urge to scratch.

A few quick snips and the ugly black sutures were gone, replaced by a short bicycle-tire-track scar. The doctor probed the area gently, checking for residual tenderness. Satisfied, he pulled the gown back down. "If you're feeling comfortable, I would be willing to release you." He looked over at Jim. "Do you have a way to get him back here quickly if there are any complications?"

"The round trip to send out a helicopter and bring us back takes about three hours," Jim told him. "Is that fast enough?"

"Oh, yes. I don't expect major problems; not even infection, at this point. It's just good to know you have a way back, if needed."

"That shouldn't be a problem," Jim assured the doctor.

"In that case, you're free to go and to resume all normal activities. I would suggest starting slow and working up, if you plan on anything very strenuous," Harrison informed B'layr. "Don't do more than what feels comfortable."

"Thank you, Doctor," B'layr said, sliding down from the exam table and pulling on his shirt and jeans. He slipped on the Guatemalan vest and labored to get his feet into the new boots. "I'm ready to go, Jim," he informed the amused Sentry.

"Let me guess," Jim mused as they exited the clinic, headed for the parking lot. "You've got a special celebration exercise planned for later tonight."

B'layr laughed, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he climbed into the car.

The ride to Rainier was brief, and the elf was soon happily ensconced in the library's anthropology section. "I could be here for years and never be able to read everything," he sighed with amazement.

"Too bad we live too far away for you to take some courses here. I have a feeling you'd enjoy it." Jim looked over B'layr's shoulder at the volume on the Mayans that the elf was perusing.

"Excuse me—" A pretty blonde walked over to where the two men were standing. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to overhear..." B'layr set down his book and Jim glared at the intruder with distrust. The girl stuck out her hand. "My name's Claire."

B'layr took the offered hand and shook it warmly. "Do not mind him, he is overprotective," he said with a chuckle, tilting his head toward Jim. "My name is B'layr, and this is my soulmate, Jim."

"Oh. How nice," Claire stuttered to a halt, not sure how to take the 'soulmate' comment. Recovering her equilibrium, she continued. "Anyway, I overheard you mention classes?"

"Yes," Jim growled, still not trusting the strange young woman.

"I work here at the library," she explained quickly, trying to give herself some credibility. "I thought you might be interested that Rainier offers not only classes, but full degrees, through an on-line program if you have a computer."

"Really?" B'layr's attention was suddenly piqued. "I'm interested in Anthropology."

"Not a problem. Anthro is one of the on-line courses. You can get a Bachelor's degree or a Masters. Lots of Anthropology students also take some courses in Psychology. I know several Anthro major/Psych minor students. Something to think about." She handed B'layr a business card. "Just contact the admittance office for the application forms, and you're on your way!"

"Thank you!" B'layr was bouncing with excitement by the time the young woman disappeared from sight. Jim was still tracking her progress through the building, disturbed by the interruption. "May we, Jim? May we stop by the office?"

Jim's attention suddenly snapped back to the tall rack of books and his excited mate. "It takes an awful lot of time and effort," he warned. "Money's not the problem, if this is something you really want to do, but it requires a commitment."

"My days as a Bearer are over," B'layr needlessly reminded him. "A'mara and L'anin help with raising the twins. The Ancient told me my new place in the tribe is as the Seeker of Knowledge. I do not know what advantage this might bring to our people, but how can I turn down the opportunity to find out?"

"Something tells me we're going to have to work with Steven to forge you some documents. Do you realize that in this society, if you don't have a birth certificate and social security number, at a minimum, you can't get much of anything else? Hell, you were born and raised on Mount Rainier, yet according to the records of our country, you don't even exist! Before you can sign up to attend classes, you need an identity."

"Steven will help?"

"If Steven can't do it, he'll know someone who can," Jim assured his mate.

~oO0Oo~

"That's not something I can just whip up overnight," Steven complained. "I'm not in to forging false documents."

"Is there a way to legitimately get B'layr what he needs?" Jim asked.

Steven shook his head. "I'm afraid to do that, you'd risk exposing the elves. How are you going to explain him growing up on the mountain, out of touch with civilization for over seventy-five years? How are you going to explain seventy-five years when B'layr doesn't look like he's hit the big 'three-oh' yet?"

"You've got a point," Jim admitted. "But B'layr really wants to take those classes. Could we forge a false age? Something more akin to his appearance, say twenty-eight?"

"We'd still need to apply for a social security number. We need proof he's a citizen, born and raised here."

"Could he be naturalized?"

"They'd still need to know his country of origin," Steven said with a sigh. "We're talking in circles here, unless B'layr is ready to drag the elves kicking and screaming into the 21st Century."

"I don't want to risk endangering their way of life," Jim said. "It's too precious. Too free. The government would have them tied up in all sorts of red tape before you know it. They wouldn't be able to continue living off the land. No, Steven, we're going to have to forge everything."

"Give me a few days, okay?" Steven said with a resigned sigh.

~oO0Oo~

"We will be coming home soon," B'layr told his son.

"We miss you, Mother," L'anin responded. "You are well?"

"It was difficult," the elf admitted. "It took me some time to come to terms with no longer being the Bearer for the tribe."

"A'mara cried when he heard the news. The entire tribe grieves for you."

"Tell them not to be concerned. I walked the Between and spoke with the Ancients. The continuance of the Ten Tribes is assured. I have new purpose. My title among our people will now be Seeker."

"That is exciting news," L'anin said. "You will explain more when you get home?"

"Yes. Steven will have the helicopter ready to bring us home in two days. I am sorry for the delay. I wanted to call to let you know that everything will be fine."

"Thank you, Mother. This evening, when you have sex with my Sire, hug him for me."

B'layr chuckled. "I will do that, and more," he promised. "Good-bye, L'anin."

"Good-bye, Mother."

B'layr broke the connection on the radio and turned to grin up at Jim. "He assumes much."

"Does he assume incorrectly?" Jim asked, moving in to gather B'layr into his arms.

"L'anin rarely assumes incorrectly," B'layr confirmed, capturing Jim's mouth in a hungry kiss.

Jim backed B'layr up the stairs, fumbling with the buttons on the elf's shirt as he went.

"Careful of the vest," B'layr complained, slipping out of his precious garment before his mate's anxious hands could ruin it. Jim pushed the elf onto the bed, tugging off the tight jeans. "You are a bit overdressed for this party, are you not?" B'layr smirked, scooting into the center of the bed.

Jim began to divest himself quickly of the confining clothing, and then crawled onto the bed next to his mate. "Is this better?"

"Much." B'layr stroked a strongly muscled bare arm. "I have missed this closeness." He snuggled against the larger man, burrowing into Jim's embrace.

Jim ran his fingers through the shoulder length tangle of hair, getting them caught in the thick curls. "I love your hair like this," he proclaimed, burying his face in the fragrant mass.

B'layr rolled onto his back and arched into the sensual assault, allowing his ample erection to brush against Jim's stomach. A hand immediately curled around the organ, stroking it in time to the pulse of blood running through the veins and arteries. B'layr moaned, thrusting into the hand with wild abandon. "Oh, God ... Jiiiiim!" B'layr's first orgasm washed over him quickly, leaving the elf sated and relaxed.

Jim moved down B'layr's body, licking the come from his chest and belly. He enveloped the limp cock with his mouth, sucking and licking the last of the semen from the spent organ before moving to tongue the tight entrance. The elf moaned, trying desperately to impale himself on the questing tongue, but without the strength to do more than wriggle and beg.

Reaching over to the nightstand, Jim snagged a tube of lubricant and squeezed some on his finger. Probing B'layr's anus gently, he entered, spreading the lube onto the vaginal walls. Once he was satisfied, he positioned himself and pressed forward.

At the first touch of Jim's cock, B'layr bucked forward, pushing the organ deep within his body. A sigh escaped the elf and he relaxed completely. "Hold still," he begged. "Stay in me. It has been too long, my heart, since you filled me." B'layr's hands stroked his Sentry's back, calming the larger man; quiet words soothing the fire. The elf took a deep breath, trying to assess whether or not he felt differently, now that he no longer had an essential sexual organ. Finally deciding that procreation wasn't required to enjoy sex, he pulled back then thrust forward—a subtle hint that he was ready.

Released from his promise to be still, Jim began to thrust into the welcoming heat. B'layr's mouth found his, and together they explored their mutual joining. Jim bit down hard on his mate's shoulder as his climax erupted from him. The metallic tang of blood wetted his tongue.

B'layr cried out, but not from pain. His cock spasmed in a second orgasm, slicking the skin between their sweaty bodies.

Jim collapsed on top of his mate, licking at the wound he had created. B'layr petted the short-cropped hair and kissed the stubbled cheek. "It was good."

"I marked you," Jim said by way of apology.

"As you should, my heart. We have been separate too long, but never again. We can celebrate life whenever we choose, for we do not need to worry about delicate pregnancies."

"You're taking this very well," Jim commented, still surprised by the easy manner in which B'layr had accepted his situation.

"You did not see what I saw," B'layr said enigmatically. "The tribes will survive, thanks to me. My destiny now points in another direction."

Jim slid off his mate to settle next to him in the bed. "Steven will have all the papers ready by tomorrow. Then all we have to do is submit your application to Rainier and pay the tuition."

"And I will become a true Seeker of Knowledge," B'layr said, a sated grin lighting his face.

"Right now, all I want to seek is a shower." Jim grimaced as he wiped a finger through the drying semen. "Otherwise, we'll be stuck together like super glue by morning."

B'layr was out of bed like lightning, running down the stairs to the bathroom. As Jim followed more slowly, he heard the sound of water running in the shower. By the time he reached the door, steam was billowing out to greet him. "Join me?" B'layr stuck his head around the edge of the plastic curtain.

Jim pulled the curtain aside just enough to step inside under the hot spray. Soapy hands began to gently cleanse away the evidence of their lovemaking. Jim leaned into the caresses, allowing his soulmate to wash him thoroughly.

"My turn." Jim filled his palm with shampoo and began washing the thick hair. While Steven would say the elf's hair was still long, Jim considered the new cut very short. The look complimented his lover perfectly, framing his square features and high forehead with a soft halo of curls. He took his time, luxuriating in the feel as his fingers slid though the silky threads. Finally, he pushed B'layr under the spray, rinsing him thoroughly. He spent his time washing the lithe body, watching it respond to his every touch. By the time the water had cooled, B'layr had heated up again.

Dropping to his knees in the tub, Jim grasped B'layr's buttocks in an iron grip as he allowed his mouth to wrap around the weeping head of the erect penis. B'layr braced himself against the wall, locking his knees to stay upright as Jim took away all his control and sucked a third orgasm from his body.

"Enough!" the elf gasped. "Bless you, Jim, but I am finally fulfilled."

"About time," Jim chuckled, standing and leading B'layr from the shower. He wrapped the elf in a fluffy white towel before pointing him back toward the stairs and their bed.

~oO0Oo~

The noise was nearly overwhelming. Jim dialed back his hearing as much as he could and still understand what was being said to him.

"I've got B'layr's papers in order," Steven said, handing over an envelope. "Everything's set. I submitted the application and tuition fees, so all B'layr needs to do is go on-line and sign up for classes. The summer term starts in six weeks."

"Thanks, Steven," Jim said, taking the documents. "He'll be thrilled."

"Looks like he's having a pretty good time right now." Steven pointed to where the elf was crawling through the maze of plastic tunnels in pursuit of little Gracie. "He gets along well with the kids."

Jim chuckled. "He's not so far removed, despite his age. B'layr always has had a way with kids."

"Hey, Uncle Jim!" Steven, Jr., and William came running up. Each grabbed one of their uncle's arms and began pulling. "Come bowl with us!" Stevie, who was twelve, insisted. Ten-year-old William raced his older brother to the game. With a shrug and a grin, Jim followed his nephews to the bowling alley section of the large game room.

"I'm going to miss them when they leave," Kallie sighed, doing her best to keep her eye on all the children at once. In the mayhem of a Chuck E. Cheese pizza parlor, the job wasn't easy.

"The kids sure do love them," Steven agreed. "And it's always good having Jim back. I didn't realize how much I missed him until after Dad passed away. B'layr's been a welcome addition to the family, too." He laughed as he watched the elf come down a slide on his belly, landing in the ball pit. Seconds later, Gracie shot out of the enclosed slide to land on her uncle's back. B'layr rolled over and grabbed the little girl, tickling her while peals of laughter filled the room.

"Do you think he'll be all right? I mean, having children meant the world to him." Kallie watched wistfully as her daughter cavorted with her elfin playmate.

"Jim says that since he had some sort of epiphany, he's okay with the surgery. His taking of classes through Rainier's on-line university is just the first step in some larger plan. I don't pretend to understand it, but if they're okay with it, I'm okay with it." Steven sipped at his glass of root beer, pushing around the remains of the pizza, trying to decide if 'just one more' would be one more too many. Finally, he shoved the pan aside and stood, dusting off his pants. "Time to go find Jim and the boys and see if we can get an air hockey game going."

Kallie smiled indulgently as her husband got up and left her alone with the messy table.

"You look tired."

Kallie jumped at the soft words, turning her attention from her retreating husband to the bedraggled elf, who had settled across from her, a squirming Gracie held firmly in his lap. "You don't look much better yourself," she chuckled.

"Gracie has a lot of energy," B'layr agreed. "I am fine, though."

"Are you excited about going home in the morning?"

B'layr released his burden, watching as the little girl ran across the room to the electronic carousel. "It will be good to be home among my people. I miss my own family."

"I'm not surprised," Kallie said. "I know how much I'd miss my brood if I had to be gone as long as you've been. You do know that you'll be missed here, too?"

B'layr smiled. "That is good to know. It is my wish that we can make more regular visits. Perhaps one day, you would accept our hospitality. Summers are quite beautiful up on the mountain."

"I think we'd all like that," Kallie said. "Thank you."

Jim stepped up to the table and rested a hand on B'layr's shoulder. "It's time we got going," he announced. "We still have the headstone to pick up, and then we need to get a good night's sleep."

B'layr stood and rounded the table to lean down and kiss Kallie on the forehead. "Thank you for allowing me to experience Chuck E. Cheese."

Kallie bubbled over with laughter. "Oh, it's my pleasure. You're free to bring the kids here anytime you want."

"The next time we visit," the elf promised.

They made their rounds of the kids, hugging them and telling them good-bye until next time.

"Thanks again, Steven. Couldn't have done it without you." Jim slapped his brother on the back and grinned.

"Ask me about money any time," Steven said, "but don't ask me to forge documents again."

"I really do appreciate it," B'layr cut in. "Without these papers, I would not be able to attend the university classes."

"Good luck with that," Steven told him.

"Thank you. I believe that I am up to the challenge."

"Considering how you aced the placement tests, I don't doubt that," Steven chuckled, and then turned to his brother. "I'll see you both in the morning, all right?"

"You bet," Jim said. "Good night, Steven."

"Good night."

~oO0Oo~

B'layr stood on the tarmac and watched as two men loaded a small granite headstone onto the floor of the helicopter. He pressed the tiny bundle he held closer to chest and ducked his head under Jim's arm. Jim held the shivering elf close, knowing the fears and uncertainties going through his mind.

"It won't be long now, B'layr. We'll be home soon."

"I know that." The elf swallowed the knot of fear tightening his throat. "Only, must we fly?"

"It's the quickest way home—by car would take hours," Jim explained.

"I do not mind," B'layr assured him.

Jim chuckled. "It's just a helicopter. You've flown in one before."

"I do not remember. I was too ill."

"That doesn't change the fact that this isn't your first experience," Jim argued.

"It might as well be," B'layr ground out from between clenched teeth.

"T'erin and K'tiri are waiting for us. Remember how L'anin said they missed their mommy?" Jim knew it was a bit underhanded to use their children as bargaining chips, but the ploy usually worked.

"All right," B'layr reluctantly agreed. "For the twins."

They ducked under the wash of the rotors, Jim pushing B'layr ahead of him into the helicopter. B'layr scooted to the center of the bench seat, barely leaving enough room for Jim to sit and close the door. The Sentry made sure their seat belts were fastened, and then wrapping an arm around his nervous soulmate, gave the pilot a thumbs up. The helicopter lifted off, hovering briefly before banking east and heading toward the mountains.

As the chopper tipped, B'layr let out a small yelp, clutching his bundle and burrowing into Jim's chest. "This is one human invention I could live without," he whimpered. "I do not like heights."

"It's okay, Sweetheart," Jim soothed, stroking the soft curls under his hand. "Just keep your eyes closed. We'll be home soon."

By the time the hour-long flight was completed, B'layr had fallen asleep against his protector. Jim shook him gently. "B'layr, we're home."

The elf shook his head to clear his thoughts, and then looked around. The helicopter was grounded, the pilot awaiting their departure. L'anin stood waving at the edge of the clearing, happy to see his family returning.

Jim climbed out and helped B'layr down and out from under the draft of the rotors. He went back for suitcases filled with their new purchases, handing them off to his son so that he could rescue the granite headstone from the floor. Once clear, he waved to the pilot who took off, leaving them to their peace.

The trek home was solemn. Respectful of his mother's need to grieve, L'anin refrained from peppering his parents with questions about their time in Cascade.

When they arrived back at the cabin, the tribe was there to greet them. The garden stone under the maple had been removed and fresh earth turned. B'layr knelt next to the open grave and placed his precious bundle in the ground. Taking a handful of soft dirt, he sprinkled it reverently on the white cloth. "Too short a time in this world, little one," he murmured. "You shall not be forgotten." He pressed the rest of the pile of earth onto the grave, filling it. Jim lifted the new headstone and placed it over the three small graves.

In Loving Memory

My Heart, My Soul

Our Love

B'layr placed a hand on the cold granite. "A part of me lies under this maple," he whispered, tears falling to wet the stone. "I shall never be whole without them."

Jim pulled the elf back to his feet, wrapping him in the warmth and safety of his arms. "We both will carry a missing piece of our soul," he said. "But we will go on. Your destiny is for far greater things. Make your children proud."

"I commit their souls to the Ancients," B'layr murmured. "And in their memory, I promise to do great things."

"You already have," Jim murmured in his ear, turning B'layr so he could see the twins.

T'erin and K'tiri toddled forward, running the last few steps on overbalanced tiptoes to fall into B'layr's waiting arms. "Mama!" they cried in unison. The elf enveloped his children, holding them close while tears fell freely. If he did nothing more with his life, he still had this legacy. The tribe would continue.

THE END