Author's Note: I wish to thank Lorraine Brevig for the art that graces this chapter.

Broken Ties

by Natalie L

B'layr shifted uncomfortably behind the podium in Rainier University's auditorium. Masses of the media surrounded him—cameras and microphones were thrust in his face. His fingers dusted over the single sheet of paper holding his official statement. Clearing his throat, he finally looked up into the cold eyes of the cameras pointed his way.

"Good morning. Thank you all for coming. I just have a short statement prepared for the media." He stopped to swallow the lump forming in his throat and then hurried on, before he could lose his courage. "In a world where information can be passed along with a few simple keystrokes, rumor and urban legend have become as common as the truth. My thesis, The Elves of the Maya, is in fact just such an urban legend. While my paper does quote legitimate source material and is based on a personal trip to the Yucatan to verify facts of the Maya, the story of the journey and captivity of elves into the Mayan culture is nothing more than an elaborate fairy tale written to entertain children at bedtime. As everyone knows, elves do not exist. I apologize for any misunderstanding, and hope that the university and the world at large can forgive me for the deception. Thank you."

Turning his back on the mob of reporters, B'layr hastened off the stage and into the arms of James Ellison.

Three Months Earlier:

"Mother! Sire!" L'anin rushed to greet his returning parents, his breathing heavy from a long run. "Come ... Your presence is requested by the Healer." He grabbed at B'layr's elbow, tugging to get his surprised Bearer to move.

"Hold up there a minute." Jim reached out, grabbing L'anin by the arm and halting his progress. "What's the rush? We've been gone for weeks ... months ... and this is the reception we get?"

L'anin released his grip on his Bearer's arm and wrapped him in a warm hug. "Welcome home." He switched his affections to his Sire, briefly hugging the older man. "It is good that you are back."

"What is wrong?" B'layr asked, noting the lines of stress creasing the younger elf's face.

"K'tan requests your presence," L'anin repeated. "The Healer has been ill," he continued, as he led his parents back toward the tribe's home settlement. "He wishes to speak with you."

"Why would he wish to speak with me?" B'layr wondered. "I am nothing more than the tribe's tanner and weaver. I have studied the history of our people, but what need would he have of a scholar?"

"You are learned in herb lore and folk medicine, Mother," L'anin reminded his Bearer as he led the way to the old-fashioned hut where the Healer had taken to his sickbed. Kneeling in front of the aged Shaman, he spoke softly. "I have brought him, K'tan." Moving aside, he made room for B'layr to kneel next to the pile of furs.

B'layr lifted a frail hand, cradling it in his own; his vision blurred with tears at the sight before him. "Healer, I am here," he whispered. "What is it you wish of me?"

Brown eyes opened to look up at the younger elf. A smile curled the corners of the wrinkled face. "B'layr?"

"Yes, Healer. I have come." B'layr waited patiently as the Healer gathered strength to speak.

"It is good that you are here." The wrinkled hand closed around B'layr's with surprising strength. "I name you the new Healer of the tribe, and pass along the Way of the Shaman to you."

"No!" B'layr pulled back, but was unable to wrest his hand from the firm grip. "I know nothing of being a Shaman. You must find another."

"You have walked the Between," K'tan intoned, "and visited with the Ancients on the spirit plane."

"But—" B'layr protested weakly.

"You have walked the Path of the Dead and peered into the light," K'tan told him, reminding B'layr of his close brushes with death. "No other is more qualified. You have overseen the birthing of your grandchildren and tended the sick and injured."

B'layr continued to shake his head, his eyes wide. "I have other duties to the tribe, Healer. Taking your place would mean a heavy burden."

"You are strong, Elfling," K'tan said, smiling up at his reluctant successor.

The comment brought a burst of laughter from the startled elf. "I am no Elfling, Master, in case you have forgotten. I have passed the century mark, and have children and grandchildren of my own."

"I have not forgotten," the Healer intoned. "But compared to my venerable span of years, you are but a child—a learned child; one with great potential, but still a youth."

"As you say," B'layr conceded. "But can you not name another? A'mara would be honored. He is as learned in herb lore as I am."

"But he has not walked the Between or tasted of death and returned to the living," K'tan argued. "The choosing is not random, nor is it up for debate. Of all the members of the Ten Tribes, only you are qualified to be Shaman."

Jim had stood by silently, listening to the exchange with stunned attention. Now he knelt next to his mate and laid a hand upon the stooped shoulder. "Tell him, B'layr. Tell him the news. You can't take on another responsibility right now."

B'layr turned to look at his lover. "It is not my place to refuse," he said softly. "Whether or not I want this, K'tan is correct—only I fulfill the requirements of the position." He exhaled heavily and turned back to the Healer. "I accept the duties of Shaman, Master," he said softly.

"My soul—" The words came softly from behind, as Jim lightly squeezed his mate's shoulder.

"Later, my heart," B'layr responded to his lover while studying the wizened features of the tribe's current Healer. "What would you have me do?" he asked K'tan.

"Your first duty as Shaman will be to guide me to the Beyond," K'tan instructed. "When my spirit has departed, I wish the shell of my body to be disposed of in a ritual pyre, as is the custom upon the death of a tribal Elder."

"You must show me the way," B'layr said. "Lead, and I will follow."

"B'layr—" Jim's voice was strained.

"It will be well," B'layr assured his worried mate, turning to look up into the intense blue gaze. "K'tan knows what he is doing."

"But do you?" Jim ground out from between clenched teeth.

"I will learn," the elf responded simply, turning back to the Healer.

K'tan increased the pressure of his grip on B'layr's hand, fixing the younger elf's blue eyes with his own dark, steady gaze.

B'layr felt himself falling into the abyss of the dark eyes, swirling down until he landed in a world of blue—the Between. Standing at his side, hale and fit, was a young K'tan, such as B'layr had not seen since his earliest days.

"Master!" B'layr gasped, releasing his hold on the Healer's hand.

K'tan turned to smile at his successor. "You have the talent," he said. "You will serve the tribes well." As he spoke, a spotted owl came to rest on a tree branch overhead, while a gray wolf stalked out of the undergrowth to stand at B'layr's side. K'tan looked briefly into the depths of the forest, seeing another animal not native to the Northwest—a black jaguar. He gave the animal a nod of recognition before turning back to the new Shaman. "Trust your instincts and your animal spirit guide. Listen with your heart."

B'layr watched in silence as the Healer began to walk down a wide, gently curving path. He made a move to follow, but the wolf barred his way. K'tan continued through the forest, stopping mid-way in his journey to turn back toward the younger elf once more. He raised a hand in farewell, disappearing in a flash of light as he rounded a bend in the road. B'layr was left alone with his Guide. He patted the animal's head before turning his back on the path.

"B'layr? Sweetheart?" The elf awoke to a gentle shaking and the concerned face of his soulmate leaning over him. "Thank God, you're back!"

"I went to guide K'tan to the Beyond," B'layr said, pushing up into a sitting position.

"You passed out!" Jim complained, running his hands quickly over the smaller body, checking for an injury.

B'layr batted the hands away and stood, dusting off his clothes. "I am fine, my heart. Do not worry over me."

"But you're—" Jim was about to bring up the pregnancy, but B'layr quieted him.

"Not now, love. We must tell the tribes of their Healer's passing and prepare the funeral pyre." He walked out of the small hut, followed by his mate and firstborn.

~oO0Oo~

The pillar of fire burned brightly, quickly igniting the framework and the body resting upon it. B'layr stood, long after the rest of the tribe members had left, until the flames ceased and the embers dimmed.

Jim walked up behind him and wrapped a blanket around his mate's shoulders. "You should come in," he urged. "It's getting cold out here."

"The ashes must be distributed over the mountain," B'layr said, turning to face his lover. "Each tribe member will take a pouch and scatter the remains as he goes out into the forest to hunt."

"And you?" Jim asked, guiding the reluctant elf back to the warmth of their cabin and the fire that burned within.

"I will take my pouch to the sacred pool when I go," B'layr answered.

"You're not planning a Blessing, are you?" Jim asked, concerned for his mate.

"I no longer feel comfortable with all the old ways," B'layr confessed. "Being out in the world has enlightened me. You will Bless me, my heart, and that will be enough."

"B'layr!" Their private conversation was interrupted as A'mara slowly levered himself from the comfortable chair by the fire and came to meet his family. "It is good that you are home!"

"I am sorry I could not come to see you sooner," the new Shaman apologized. "But I had duties to the tribe. We missed you at the funeral."

"I wish that I could have come," A'mara said with a sigh. "But my pregnancy does not go well, and L'anin dotes on me in excess."

B'layr laughed. "That is the way with our son," he agreed. "Do you wish for me to examine you?" he asked, guiding the elf back to his seat.

"K'tan has said my womb is weak," A'mara informed the Healer. "I have had the sickness almost since the day I conceived, and my strength has fled with the growing of the child."

"You have entered your second quarter, have you not?" B'layr asked, prodding gently at the softly swelling belly of his friend.

A'mara nodded. "I entered my fourth month nine days ago," he confirmed.

"I cannot tell much," B'layr said, rocking back on his heels. "It would be good to have the hands of a Sentry, but those belong to my mate and my issue. Have you been drinking the teas K'tan gave you?"

"Daily," A'mara confirmed. "L'anin would not have it otherwise."

"Let me see what he has given you. Perhaps I can find a combination of herbs that will be more effective in your case."

A'mara started to get up to comply with the request, but B'layr pushed him back into his seat. "This very moment is not necessary. The hour is late. You need your rest, and L'anin is already asleep. No need to disturb him until morning."

"If you do not mind," A'mara spoke softly, "I will sleep here. My breath comes easier sitting up."

"If that is how you are comfortable, I have no objections," B'layr said, settling another blanket over the pregnant elf. A'mara smiled and patted the hand that rested on his shoulder. B'layr leaned in to press a kiss against the cool cheek. "Good night, my friend."

"It is good to have you home," A'mara whispered as B'layr climbed into his own bed, curling himself around the body of his soulmate.

"It is good to be home," B'layr concurred.

~oO0Oo~

"Slow down, you're working too hard," Jim complained as B'layr came in from gathering fresh herbs.

"I must sort and dry these, and make the medicine that A'mara needs," the elf insisted.

Jim pulled him away from the dining table and wrapped his arms around his mate, gathering him into a deep kiss. When they finally broke apart, Jim frowned. "You're trying to do too much. Come, sit down."

"I am fine, my heart," B'layr insisted, turning back to sorting the herbs. "I must finish this so that I may get started on writing my thesis."

"You still plan on writing about the Lost Tribe and how they came to be associated with the Mayan people?" Jim felt vaguely uncomfortable with the idea.

"For the sake of our people, the story should be known," said B'layr. "I do not know if I will be able to make it public knowledge. That decision will wait until the paper is finished."

"Why don't you let A'mara sit here and sort the herbs?" Jim suggested. "He looks like he could use something to do, and you need to rest."

"Do not worry about me, I am fine," B'layr repeated stubbornly.

"J'anin is correct," A'mara said, coming up behind the couple. "You look a bit pale, Healer. Perhaps you should rest. I could sit here and sort without tiring myself unduly."

"He's right. Please, B'layr?" Jim said taking his mate's elbow and steering him back toward the bed.

"I am outnumbered, I see," B'layr said with good-natured resignation. He allowed himself to be guided back to the bed and tucked beneath the crisp sheets.

L'anin walked in from patrol and glanced around with alarm. "A'mara, you should be resting!" he chided his mate. "And, Mother, what are you doing in bed? You do not look well."

"See?" Jim used the comment to bolster his side of the argument. "Even our son believes you need the rest."

"What is going on?" L'anin demanded, at a loss for answers.

"Your mother has been working too hard since he has arrived home," A'mara explained. "I am fine. I do not exert myself sitting here sorting herbs. Go to your Bearer."

Obeying the command, L'anin approached the bed. "What is wrong, Mother?"

"Can't you guess?" Jim asked his son.

L'anin shook his head. "I have not seen you ill since your last pregnancy," he addressed his Bearer, sitting on the edge of the bed. "But that is no longer possible—"

"That is where you would be wrong, Elfling," said B'layr, chuckling at the look of amazement crossing his son's face. "The Ancients hold the Old Magic still," he explained. "They healed me, and now I Bear J'anin's seed once more."

A'mara turned from where he was working to look at B'layr in surprise. "You Bear?"

B'layr nodded. "It has been nearly three moons since J'anin Blessed me," he explained. "I would have said something earlier, but there has been so much to do, it slipped my mind."

"How can something like this slip your mind?" L'anin asked, amazed. "Mother, you were barren and you carry again! We must let the tribes know and have the Blessing ceremony."

"No Blessing, Elfling," B'layr chided, shaking a finger at his startled son. "I no longer wish the ceremony. My soulmate is sufficient. He will Bless me, and I will go to the sacred pool."

"But—"

"No buts, my son. J'anin has decreed new ways, and I agree. I have much to do, and little time to waste."

"I hate to interrupt," Jim interrupted, "but your mother needs his rest right now. Can we finish this discussion later?"

"There is nothing more to discuss," B'layr told him, turning his stern gaze from Sire to son.

"But there should be an announcement," L'anin insisted. "K'tiri will want a celebration to commemorate this miraculous occasion."

"Later," Jim insisted. "And I'd prefer the celebration be delayed a few days, until we have had some time to enjoy just being home again."

L'anin nodded. "I understand. It is good to have you home, Mother ... Sire."

"And it is good to be home," B'layr concurred. He reached out to clasp Jim's hand and gently pull him closer. "Let us Bless the new life in my womb, that the child may grow strong," he suggested with a wink at his bewildered mate.

"You need to rest," Jim attempted to protest while allowing himself to be drawn to his lover.

"I wish to sleep with you inside me," B'layr said softly, turning onto his side and presenting himself.

With a sigh of submission, Jim shed his clothing and spooned against the warm body. The elven mating pheromones were heavy in the air, and it wasn't long before he found himself buried body and mind deep within his soulmate.

~*~*~*~

The black jaguar roared his approval as he stalked opposite the wolf, circling the mating couple. In the clearing, moonlight shone through the forest's canopy, a silver-blue glow lighting the glistening bodies that rocked in tandem to an internal rhythm. Burnished auburn curls curtained the face of the elf grunting in time with the thrusts filling him. The Sentry gripped narrow hips, his eyes closed and his face upturned to the light. Sweat trailed down the bare muscles of his chest as he picked up speed, pounding his way to climax. With a roar of completion to match the jaguar's cry, the Sentry collapsed on top of the elf, sending both to the ground. Curling in a tight circle, still buried deep within the velvet warmth, the couple slept, guarded by their animal spirits.

~oO0Oo~

B'layr rocketed up from the depths of the sacred pool, landing with a resounding splash and peels of laughter. Jim sputtered, treading water and wiping the droplets from his face.

"You have way too much energy for someone who was so exhausted just yesterday," Jim complained, smiling at his playful mate.

"A Blessing, a good night's rest, and a swim in the pool have revived me," B'layr said, swimming over to his lover. Gathering Jim in his arms, he pressed a kiss against the cold lips.

Jim returned the gesture, paddling madly with hands and feet to keep them both above the surface. When they broke apart, he began to gently guide the elf back to the shore. "Time to dry off and head home, Imp."

"I suppose," B'layr reluctantly agreed. "There is much to do, and I must get started on my account of our journey."

Jim picked up the towels they had brought with them, and handed one to B'layr. As they dried off, he admired the lithe body of his soulmate and the gently rounding mound that was just beginning to swell at his waist.

Noting the look, B'layr let his towel drop as he stroked both hands over the roundness of his womb. "Does it please you that I am with child again?" he asked almost shyly.

Jim came up behind him, wrapping his arms around his mate and covering B'layr's hands with his own. Together they caressed the firm bulge as Jim buried his face in the damp curls behind his lover's ear. He nibbled briefly at the lobe before whispering into the delicately pointed organ. "Nothing could please me more, Sweetheart." He ran his tongue around the outer shell of the ear before letting it dart inside. "You're so beautiful when you're pregnant." He continued to nibble at the lobe, working his way down to neck and shoulder before B'layr pulled away, turning in his lover's embrace.

"I love you, too, my heart," he whispered. "But we need to get back. K'tiri will be planning the celebration, and I simply must get started on my paper."

Gathering his towel, B'layr began following the path back to their cabin, continuing to dry himself as he walked. As they approached the clearing, L'anin came running toward them.

"Mother! Mother!" L'anin stopped in front of his Bearer, reaching out to take B'layr's hands.

"What is it, my own?" B'layr asked, studying the worried aqua-green eyes. "Is A'mara ill?"

"He is in great discomfort," the young elf concurred. "It began a short while ago, but worsened quickly. It is as bad as I have ever seen."

"Take me to him," B'layr instructed, following his son back to the cabin where A'mara lay curled on the double bed he shared with L'anin. Crossing the room B'layr knelt next to the low bed, brushing the hair away from a face contorted with pain. "A'mara, love," he whispered. "Can you tell me what is wrong?"

A'mara opened his eyes and blinked to clear away the tears. "My belly cramps. I fear I might lose the child."

B'layr pushed back the blankets and laid hands on the bared abdomen of his friend. Closing his eyes, he drew on his knowledge and experience, trying to diagnose the problem. His concentration was so deep that he didn't notice the small gasp from his son or the relaxing of the tight muscles beneath his hands. When he opened his eyes, he found the three others all staring at him.

"Mother! What did you do?" L'anin asked, moving to kneel next to his Bearer.

At almost the same time, A'mara sighed. "The pain is gone, Healer. Thank you."

Jim stood at the foot of the bed looking puzzled, waiting for his mate to explain.

B'layr looked up in confusion. "I did nothing," he said softly. "I only wished to see if I could diagnose the problem."

"There was a glow ... from beneath your hands," L'anin said, his voice filled with awe. "And A'mara's pain was gone."

"It is true," A'mara agreed.

Jim shrugged and nodded when his perplexed mate turned blue eyes upon his. "Maybe it's true what they say about pregnant elves having that certain 'glow' about them?" he quipped, trying to lighten the mood.

B'layr pulled the blankets back over A'mara and turned his hands to stare at his palms. "What is this? What have I done?" He looked from one of his family to the next, getting no answer.

Finally A'mara spoke, his voice soft. "You healed my pain," he said simply. "As the legends tell the Healers of old were able to do."

"But I have no magic," B'layr denied. Then looking at his hands again, "Do I?" His gaze rose to meet Jim's once more.

"N'elu healed you," Jim said, shrugging. "He gave you back your ability to Bear. Perhaps he gave you back the magic that the Lost Tribe ... lost."

"But I do not know how to use it." B'layr's voice choked with impending tears. "I do not know what I did. Are you certain it was magic?"

"Don't look at me," Jim said apologetically. "What do I know about elven magic?"

"I know only that you came, laid hands upon me, and now the pain is gone," A'mara stated firmly. "Whatever you call it, you have the hands of a Healer."

"Please," B'layr begged, looking at each of his loved ones in turn. "Say nothing of this for now."

"Why not, Mother?" L'anin asked. "It is a miracle. One that the tribes will welcome."

"I must understand what I have done," B'layr explained. "I must learn, somehow, to use this power, if it is magic. I do not yet know how to control it."

"As you wish," L'anin agreed. A'mara nodded, closing his eyes and grinning contentedly.

Jim came around to the side of the bed and helped B'layr up. Wrapping the elf in his arms to steady him, he guided B'layr back to their bed. "Maybe you ought to have a short rest yourself. It looked like whatever you did took a lot out of you."

"I am fine," replied B'layr, weakly pushing Jim away as he sorted through his clothes, pulling on a pair of jeans and a blue plaid flannel shirt. Tugging at the zipper, a curse slipped softly from his lips. "Fuck!"

Smiling, Jim chided his frustrated mate. "Not now, Imp. There's too much to do." B'layr glanced up from his task, giving the Sentry a look that could kill. "Here, try this," Jim said, prying B'layr's hands from the reluctant zipper. "You're a bit too ... round for this pair. How about leaving the zipper undone, and just buttoning the shirt over it?" He suited his words with action, buttoning the shirt and tugging it down over the open fly. "At least you'll be able to breathe."

"Where are those maternity overalls?" B'layr asked, rummaging through the small closet.

"You don't need those yet," Jim assured him. "Come on. K'tiri is expecting us."

~oO0Oo~

"Mother! Sire!" K'tiri looked up from K'lyn, who suckled noisily at her mother's breast. "It is good to have you home." She turned an especially large grin on her Bearer. "And you are pregnant again! L'anin told me of the miracle."

"The Ancients still hold the Old Magic," B'layr explained, his right hand resting on the soft flannel over his belly. "N'elu healed me."

"And we shall celebrate," K'tiri commanded with a wave of her hand. "I have sent S'kur out to hunt. His party shall bring back enough for a feast. You have been Blessed?" she asked softly.

"I have," B'layr confirmed. "J'anin and I have only just returned from the sacred pool."

"Then we shall dance," K'tiri decided. "In two days' time, by the light of the full moon, under the stars. We will celebrate the healing and the new life within you." She pulled the infant from her breast and burped her, then held her out for Jim to take.

The Sentry cradled the baby in one arm, teasing the child's lips with a finger and making faces with the ease of one comfortable around the very young. "It's been a long time since I held one this small," he said, grinning. "It looks like you have done a good job being her mother."

"Would you expect anything less?" K'tiri asked, rising to take a pot of boiling water off the fire. "Tea?" She gathered the dried herbs, crushing them before putting them in the cups.

"Yes, thank you," B'layr said, taking the offering before sinking into a large pile of furs on the floor. "How have things been going here at home? We have been gone long."

"You have," K'tiri agreed. "Why did you not come home sooner?" She took the infant from her Sire's arms and laid the child in the crib she had borrowed from her parents. Content with a full stomach, K'lyn was soon asleep.

"I needed the resources of Rainier University for a time," B'layr explained. "Steven had maintained the loft for us, so we decided to stay until I could get enough information organized to bring home."

"And now you will write of your adventures?"

"That is the plan," B'layr said, nodding.

"Oh, I want to hear it all!" K'tiri exclaimed with the delight of child. "I would love to leave the forest and see the world. You must tell me everything!"

B'layr chuckled. "In good time, my daughter. First, I need to know what has happened here while we were gone."

"Well—" K'tiri settled down next to her Bearer, making herself comfortable in the furs. "The hunts have been good; game is plentiful."

"Has H'tim managed well with the tanning?"

"His furs are not as pliant as yours were," K'tiri admitted. "But he does well and likes the work."

"Have you heard from your brother lately?" Jim asked.

"He comes more frequently, now that the tribes have joined," his daughter answered. "T'erin is with S'kur now as their scout. His Sentry skills have kept our tables heavily laden. We have no need to fear the coming Cold Time."

"That is good to hear," B'layr said, nodding.

"What of the long houses?" Jim interjected. "We needed at least two more the last I checked."

K'tiri nodded, smiling at her Sire. "They are nearly finished," she said proudly. "We still had enough material left from your trip to Cascade to make many windows, as well. The People enjoy being able to look out to the cold while staying warm."

"Does that leave anything for us to do?" Jim asked, spreading his hands in supplication.

"For you, Sire, there is always the patrol. You can range farther and interact with human hunters better than any other in the tribes," K'tiri told him. "For Mother, there is the Healing."

B'layr let his head drop as he shook it sadly. "I wish K'tan had not burdened me. It is a great honor to be Healer, but I am the Seeker as well. There is not enough time in the day to do all that is required of me."

"Your family will help in any way that we may," K'tiri assured him. "You taught me well in the herbal lore. Perhaps I can be of assistance."

Jim nudged his mate slightly with an elbow. "Are you going to tell her?"

"Tell me what?" K'tiri inquired, giving her parents a puzzled look.

"B'layr healed A'mara of some serious stomach cramps just before we came here," Jim informed her. "It was like he was using the Old Magic. His hands took on a soft glow, and A'mara's pain went away."

"This is true?" K'tiri put her teacup down and reached over to grab her Bearer's arm.

B'layr nodded. "But I do not know how I did it, or how to control it," he explained. "It just happened. I was laying on hands to see if I could detect the cause of A'mara's pain. I remember wishing I could just take it away—"

"And you did," Jim finished for him.

"This is another miracle!" K'tiri stood up and began pacing the confines of her cabin. "You have brought the Magic back to us. Do you know what that means?"

"It means," B'layr spoke sternly, "that I do not want you gossiping about it until I have a better handle on it. I do not yet know the extent of my powers. Perhaps all I can do is temporarily relieve discomfort."

"Even that would be a boon," K'tiri reminded him. "We have many injuries, especially in the fall when we hunt more often. To relieve pain would be welcome enough."

"As I said," B'layr interrupted, "I do not wish this to become openly known yet. I would not want the People to get the wrong impression—that I can do something that I cannot."

"Understood." K'tiri gathered the used teacups and took them to her sink to wash. "But I still think it is very exciting news."

The family continued their conversation well into the afternoon. Finally caught up on all the doings of the tribes in the recent months, B'layr deemed it time to leave. "It has been good spending this time with you, my daughter, but I must get home and start my writing." He made a move to get up, and found that he'd grown stiff sitting on the floor in the pile of furs. The bulge of his belly also got in his way as he struggled to stand.

Jim chuckled and offered a hand to his mate. "Been a while since you had to deal with the extra weight, eh, Imp?"

"Someday, J'anin," B'layr growled as he used the extra leverage to stand. "I wish that some day you would know what it is like."

"Fat chance." Jim continued to chuckle as he wrapped an arm around the expanding waist to steady his mate. "That's the advantage I have being human. You get the swollen ankles, and I get you."

B'layr swatted at his smug partner, torn between amusement and irritation. "If you wish to share a bed with me tonight," he warned, "you will watch that smart tongue of yours." Turning to K'tiri, he reached out and pulled her into a hug, kissing her cheek. "It is good to see you again. I look forward to the celebration."

"As do I," she agreed, returning the kiss. Turning to her Sire, she kissed his cheek as well. "Take care of him. He is not as strong as he would have you believe," she whispered in his ear.

Standing in the doorway, the Chieftess of the Ten Tribes watched as her parents walked down the narrow path, eventually disappearing in the dense foliage of the forest.

~oO0Oo~

The bonfire burned brightly and trestle tables were heavily laden with meat, vegetables and the fruits of the forest. The large clearing was filled with milling elves; some dancing, some eating, some taking physical pleasure in each other. B'layr looked around in delight.

"It is like the old days," he said with a grin. "Remember the celebration we had when you first came to the Wolf Tribe?"

Jim smiled and nodded, his mind flying back through the years to the day he had first seen his lover dancing naked in the firelight. The image still held the power to make him hard, and he squirmed as he felt his jeans becoming uncomfortably tight.

B'layr began to strip, laying his clothes in a neat pile on a convenient stump. Jim watched with rapt attention. Even at this distance from the fire, the pale porcelain skin of his lover glowed with a burnished golden light, his hair an auburn halo around his face. He shook his head. "God, you're beautiful," he whispered. "The years haven't changed you."

"Nor they you," B'layr softly agreed. Long fingers played at the buttons of Jim's shirt, exposing the well-muscled chest of a man who appeared to be no more than forty at most. He continued to undress his mate, revealing the hard column of Jim's cock as he pushed the tight denim down past slender hips and strong legs. Once his lover was also naked, B'layr wrapped his arms around Jim's neck and jumped up, winding his legs around Jim's waist, pinning their erections between their bodies.

"Ufff!" grunted Jim, reflexively putting his arms around the bundle clinging to him. "You're a heavy one, Imp!" he complained. "How do you expect me to support both you and junior in there?" His eyes dropped to the gently rounding belly that was pressed against his own abs.

Laughter bubbled up from his mate as B'layr leaned forward to press a kiss against the protesting lips. "You do not have to bear us long. Carry me to the fire," he ordered. "As guests of honor, we must paint our bodies with the colors of our lives."

"You are the guest of honor, not me," said Jim as he started toward the blaze of the bonfire. "You're the new Shaman and Healer; you're the one who couldn't get pregnant again, but did."

"And you are my mate, Sire of the life that grows within me," B'layr reminded him. "We are one. You share the spotlight tonight, J'anin." Jim sighed at his mate's use of his elven name. It usually meant he was going to lose the argument.

They arrived at the bonfire, the crowd of elves parting to let the couple pass. With relief, Jim lowered B'layr to the ground and stretched his back. B'layr picked up a small bowl of paint and began to dip his fingers. He trailed stripes of white across Jim's forehead and around his eyes and ears.

"For the Gift of the Sentry you returned to The People," B'layr intoned. He put down the bowl of white paint, and picked up one of blue, dipping his fingers and painting whorls and lines across Jim's chest and down his arms. "For your strength and stamina." Next came the green paint, streaked in wide swaths down muscled legs. "For your swiftness." B'layr straightened and smiled at his lover, picking up the bowl of red paint. He dipped a single finger and smeared the color across Jim's lips. "For your love." He stood on tiptoe and pressed his own lips against those of his lover, transferring the color to himself. Then, finally, B'layr poured a small pool of the red paint into his palm and gripped the straining erection of his mate coating first the penis, then the balls, in solid color. "For your gift of fertility that has brought life and hope back to the Tribes." He put down the paint and backed away a step as the crowd of elves roared their approval.

Jim took a step around his mate, picking up the bowl of blue paint. He grinned as B'layr watched him expectantly. Dipping his fingers, he traced a wavy line across B'layr's forehead. "For that brilliant mind that I'll never fully comprehend," he said, following his pronouncement by painting circles and spots of blue on both cheeks. "And for the Gift of the Shaman, completing the circle of life in the Tribe." He put down the blue bowl and picked up the white, painting a heart on the left side of B'layr's chest, encircling the peaked nipple. "For your purity and innocence, despite everything that life has thrown at you." Next, he picked up the unused bowl of yellow, painting long arrows of color down B'layr's arms and over the backs of his hands. "For your Power to Heal," he said softly, noting the startled look in his lover's eyes. With the green paint, Jim painted a large circle around the growing mound of B'layr's belly. "For your fertility, and the life that grows within you." The red paint came next, with Jim painting droplets and streaks of color down B'layr's legs before pouring the remaining contents of the bowl between his mate's feet. "For the blood you shed to bring new life and hope to the Tribes."

At that moment, you could have heard a pin drop—even on the soft carpet of grass and pine needles—as the gathered elves remembered the labor that brought their Chieftess into the world.

But Jim was not yet done. Picking up the blue bowl once more, he mingled the color with the red still on his hand to create a vibrant purple that he used to coat B'layr's bobbing cock. "For your constant love and devotion through more years than I care to count; for making me your soulmate; for all the great sex, and more to come."

The elves that were closest to hear, erupted in chuckles of appreciation at the frankness of their Senior Sentry, and then led the group in a roar of approval and applause.

When the noise died down, K'tiri motioned for her parents to come stand with her on the raised dais. "We are gathered here tonight to celebrate," she began, raising her voice to be heard over the low murmur of the crowd. "K'tan has passed to the Beyond; and so we celebrate his life. He passed the Gift of the Shaman to my mother, B'layr, and bestowed upon him the title of Healer; and so we celebrate our future. Lastly, and not the least, against all odds, my mother, who was barren, now carries a new life; and so we celebrate the miracle.

"Tonight is a night to reflect and rejoice, to eat and to dance, to celebrate our lives! Let the heavens see our joy, and let those who have passed Beyond hear our voices. Go, my people, and celebrate!" K'tiri spread her arms, signaling the beginning of the night's revels.

The crowd broke up; some heading for the heavily laden trestle tables for food, others dancing to the lively rhythms of drum and flute, while still others paired off to celebrate through joining in the sexual act.

Jim and B'layr sat next to their daughter as food was brought to them. B'layr's mouth watered as he bit into the succulent venison. He licked his fingers and smiled. "I thought we would never get to eat. I am starved!"

"You're always hungry when you're pregnant," Jim said, laughing. "I don't know where you put it! Do you elves develop a second stomach, or something?"

"We require more nutrients to grow the new life," B'layr explained, tearing into a small loaf of bread and using it to gather up the juices on his plate.

"How are you feeling, Mother?" K'tiri asked, turning concerned eyes on her Bearer. "You look pale."

"He's exhausted," Jim cut in. "He hasn't had a moment's peace since we got home. First, there was K'tan's passing, and then A'mara's difficulties. The tribe is already bombarding him with requests for medicines and healing ceremonies."

B'layr reached out to touch Jim's arm and silence him. "I have duties now, my heart. I must do what is expected of me."

"Well, it's not expected that you neglect your own health for the healing of others!" Jim ground out.

K'tiri nodded. "My Sire is correct, Mother. It has been many Turns of Seasons since the last time you bore a life. You may have forgotten the toll that takes on your own physical resources. There are others in the Tribe trained in herbal lore. I will get them to help. You must rest."

B'layr continued to eat in silence for a few minutes before looking up at the Chieftess. "I have yet to fulfill my duties as the Tribe's Seeker," he confessed. "I have traveled the world with J'anin to learn of the origin of our people, but I have not had the time to record the tale."

"Too much is asked of you," K'tiri decided. "I will see to it that you are only called as Healer to those emergencies requiring your skills. Minor illness and injury can be taken care of by others; myself included. You must find time to rest, and to record your adventures. There is only one Seeker, but many who can take on the cloak of Healer to assist you."

A shout interrupted their conversation, and a great number of elves began to mill around the fire. One of the elves broke free of the crowd and ran up to the dais. "We have need of the Healer!" he cried. "Please, come quickly!"

B'layr rose and carefully made his way down off the steps to the floor of the clearing. "What has happened?" he asked, as he followed the messenger toward the bonfire. Discretely, Jim stood and followed his mate.

"K'tlan and his mate were dancing, and K'tlan tripped, falling into the fire." The messenger pulled the Healer along until they cleared the crowd gathered around the injured elf. "He is badly burned."

Cold compresses soaked in spring water had already been applied, but the injured elf still tossed and cried out in pain. B'layr knelt next to K'tlan, his heart sinking when he saw the extent of the injuries. There was little he could do, other than prescribe herbal teas that would ease the pain until the injured elf passed to the Beyond. He closed his eyes and held his hands over the burned flesh. As tears streaked down his cheeks, he silently prayed. K'tan, give me your strength, your knowledge, to ease our brother's passing. Come to guide him through the Between to Beyond. B'layr's body shook with tension. He was only marginally aware when his soulmate knelt beside him, holding him and imparting strength to him. Elders, help me! I do not know what I can do!! His shaking increased, the tremors wracking his slender body.

As the crowd watched their Healer, a soft, golden glow spread out from beneath his hands to engulf the injured elf in a cocoon of luminescence. They all held their breath as K'tlan's thrashing stilled and he quieted. The glow slowly faded and B'layr fell forward. He would have landed on his patient, if Jim hadn't grabbed him and pulled him into a firm embrace.

"Enough!" Jim shouted at the crowd. "Can't you see that B'layr's exhausted? There's nothing more he can do!" With strength born of his outrage at the use of his soulmate, Jim stood and scooped his barely conscious lover into his arms, elbowing his way through the throng of elves.

"Did you see it?" echoed a voice from the crowd.

"K'tlan lives!" said another, examining the injured elf.

"It is a miracle!"

"The Healer possesses the Old Magic!"

Excitement flowed through the crowd like an electric current.

K'tiri brushed past Jim as she headed toward the bonfire. "Take him home; let him rest," she ordered. "I will see to it that you are left alone." With a curt nod, Jim carried his mate out of the clearing and into the darkness of the night. K'tiri broke through the mass of bodies to the small clearing around the injured elf. She knelt to examine him for herself.

The burns still covered the majority of K'tlan's body, puckering the skin with an angry red, but they were no longer life threatening. K'tiri issued her orders. "Wrap him in the cool compresses and get him a tea to ease the pain, then take him back to the long house where he can rest. L'anin," she called out to her brother. "Can you watch K'tlan for the night? Next to our mother, you are the most learned in the healing arts."

"I have A'mara to care for," L'anin protested. He looked up when he felt a gentle hand rest upon his arm.

"I am well enough," A'mara said. "I will go back to the cabin and rest. You must stay with K'tlan and see him through the night."

L'anin nodded, giving in to his sister and his soulmate. "I will do what I can."

Several of the elves were bundling K'tlan in the wet compresses and lifting him to lay him on a trestle for transport. L'anin followed them as they made their way toward the long house closest to Jim and B'layr's cabin.

With the immediate crisis in hand, K'tiri looked at the milling crowd. It was obvious that the festive mood of the evening was broken and could not be revived. She noted with concern that there was a drift toward the path that led back to the cabin. Hurrying, she made her way through the gathering to block the trail.

"Stop! You will go no further tonight!" K'tiri commanded. "Go to your homes, if you no longer wish to celebrate."

"The Healer used the Old Magic," one elf shouted over the noise. "I saw it with my own eyes."

"K'tlan was dying," agreed another, "until the Healer used the Magic."

A loud hum of agreement rose up on the night air, threatening K'tiri's tenuous hold on her people. "Enough!" K'tiri put all the weight of her command into her voice. "What the Healer did or did not do does not matter now. What matters is that K'tlan lives and will recover." She gave the crowd a stern look. "No one is to disturb B'layr's rest. Anyone who does, will answer to the Tribunal." Her pronouncement stopped the advance of the crowd and quieted the anxious elves. "I will look into the miracle as soon as my mother is sufficiently rested, and I will call a tribal meeting to discuss my findings. Until then, I expect everyone to go about their own business. If you have need of a Healer, come directly to me. Is that understood?" Heads nodded and a murmur of assent was heard. "Good. Then good night, my gentle elves. Sleep well." K'tiri turned her back and strode down the path to her own cabin.

~oO0Oo~

Jim pushed the cabin door open with his foot and stumbled inside, heading directly for their bed. He laid B'layr down on the pristine sheets, uncaring of the smeared paints that still colored their naked bodies. He brushed a hand over the high forehead, sweeping back the long curls and ran a sensory sweep over his mate. B'layr's breathing was shallow and his heart pattered too rapidly. His temperature was high and a light sheen of sweat coated the pale skin. Not long after Jim had laid him down on the bed, withdrawing his physical contact, B'layr had begun to shiver uncontrollably. Jim pulled the sheets and blankets over the naked body and leaned down to kiss the damp forehead.

"I'll just be a minute, my soul," Jim whispered. "I'm going to make you some tea." He headed to the hearth, where water was constantly kept hot, and drew out a cupful. He set the hot water on the dining table as he searched for the combination of herbs that would bring down B'layr's fever. He finally located what he wanted and began steeping the leaves. When the color had turned a deep green-gold, he strained the liquid into a mug and brought it over to where B'layr waited.

Perching on the edge of the mattress, Jim put an arm beneath B'layr's head and lifted him enough so that he could drink. B'layr sipped at the hot tea gratefully, happy for the warmth that flowed through him. He sank back against the pillows, giving Jim a weak smile.

"It happened again, didn't it?" he asked.

"Did you know?" Jim asked softly.

B'layr shook his head. "I only knew that K'tlan was dying. I grieved for him. We cannot afford the loss of even one hunter with the Cold Time coming soon." He sighed and signaled that he wanted another sip of tea. Jim tipped the cup to his lips and B'layr drank thankfully. "I prayed," he admitted. "I asked for help from K'tan and the Old Ones."

"That glow came from your hands again," Jim told him. "It completely engulfed K'tlan for a few seconds before it faded. After that, you collapsed and I brought you here."

"Is he all right? Will K'tlan live?" asked B'layr, a worried frown creasing his face.

"I was more worried about you," Jim admitted.

"He will recover," A'mara announced softly as he walked into the cabin and over to the bed he shared with L'anin. "B'layr's magic helped him, as it did for me. It will take a while for the burns to heal, but K'tlan will not die."

"I am glad," B'layr said, sinking back onto the pillows. He turned his attention to Jim. "I am so tired—"

"The healing takes a lot of your energy reserves," Jim guessed. "And you're pregnant. You need to take it easy." He pressed B'layr back down when his mate tried to sit up again.

"I have duties to perform—"

"Not now, you don't," Jim insisted. "K'tiri is going to find those skilled in herb lore to help out while you recover. You're to rest until you get your strength back, even if I have to lie in bed with you to keep you there."

"That does not sound like a bad idea," said B'layr with a tired grin. He wiggled his fingers in a 'come here' gesture.

"I have to get us cleaned up first," Jim insisted. He went to fetch the large washing bowl, putting some of the hot water from the fireplace into the bottom before filling it from the cold reserves in the rain barrel. He grabbed some cloths and towels, as well as some of the mild soap he found that did not irritate his sensitive skin, and carried it all over to the bed.

"Perhaps it would be better if I sat in a chair," B'layr suggested. "No reason to get the bed wet."

"Are you sure you feel up to it?" asked Jim. "I could bathe you in bed without too much trouble."

"I do not mind," B'layr replied, slipping his legs over the edge of the mattress and letting Jim help him up and over to one of the wooden chairs. He sat quietly, letting Jim do the work of washing the paints from his body.

When Jim had finished washing his abdomen, B'layr rested his hands on the swell of his belly and let his knees spread apart, exposing his painted genitals for cleaning. The soft rasp of the cotton terrycloth over the sensitive skin aroused the elf, and the Sentry soon found himself washing the heavy erection of his mate.

Jim looked up into sultry blue eyes as he continued to clean. "You need to rest, Imp," he told the mischievous sprite. "You know, as in sleep?"

"It does not take much energy to lie in bed while you make love to me," B'layr answered easily. "I will sleep better once I am complete."

"Well, you're complete for now," said Jim, hauling his mate up out of the chair and propelling him over to the bed. "It's my turn to get clean."

"I will wait."

"You will sleep," Jim ordered, pointing a stern finger at the elf. "I'm going down to the stream to bathe. Don't wait up." With his final words, the Sentry turned, picking up his bathing essentials and heading out the door.

"He is right, Healer." A'mara spoke from where he lay in his own bed. "You have need of rest. The child that grows within you takes much of your strength; you must renew yourself."

B'layr sighed, pulling the blankets up over his naked body. "I know, my friend," he said. "But I must give my soulmate a hard time, or he will believe I am truly ill." A roguish grin curled the elf's lips. "But take note, when J'anin returns, he will bless me."

"A blessing is always welcome," A'mara agreed, returning the smile. "But then you must sleep."

~oO0Oo~

Jim returned an hour later to a quiet home. A'mara snored softly, alone in his bed, while B'layr sprawled, tangled in the sheets, his eyes closed. Jim set his towels and soap aside and lifted the blanket to slide in beside his lover and mate. B'layr stirred and opened his eyes.

"You took your time."

"I was hoping you'd be asleep when I got back," Jim admitted.

"I could not sleep until you returned to help me with this." B'layr guided Jim's hand to the hardness of his erection.

Jim smiled and shook his head. "You're incorrigible."

"So I have been told," said B'layr, returning the smile. "Now, are you going to do something about it so that we can rest?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"You do not."

Jim suppressed a grunt of laughter. "Somehow, I didn't think that I did." He straightened the tangle of sheets and blankets so that they were both covered and warm. "Roll over." He helped B'layr find a comfortable position on his right side, then spooned up against the soft flesh. "This is going to be fast, so that you can get to sleep," he informed his unrepentant mate.

Jim began by showering kisses across the bare shoulders as the fingers of his left hand wrapped around the elf's straining erection. B'layr moaned at the touch and ground his hips against Jim's groin. With a quick thrust, Jim entered his lover and began the gentle undulations that carried them both toward climax.

Already exhausted from the celebration and healing, B'layr didn't have the strength to make their lovemaking last. With a muffled cry he came, bringing Jim along with him. In the aftermath, soft snores could be heard to those with Sentry ears.

~oO0Oo~

B'layr sat at the dining table, his fingers rapidly tapping the keys of his laptop. Jim came up behind him and leaned over to kiss the tip of B'layr's right ear. The elf looked up and smiled.

"How's it coming?" Jim asked. His mate had been hard at work typing up the tales of their adventures through Mexico and Romania for the past several days. K'tiri, as good as her word, had brought in other elven Healers to take the load off her mother while he rested and recovered from his frenetic homecoming.

"Not too bad," B'layr replied. "Right now, I am just trying to get down all the facts as I remember them. After that, I am going to have to do some serious research before writing the diss."

"If you need anything, you'll let me know, right?" asked Jim, pulling out a chair to sit next to his mate. "You still look a little pale. Would you like me to get you something to eat?"

"I am fine, my heart. You do not need to hover." B'layr smiled at his bondmate.

Jim reached out to place a hand over the gentle swell of the elf's fecund belly. "You need to take care of yourself," he said. "Why don't you take a break and have a little lunch with me? A'mara left us some venison stew."

"Perhaps later," said B'layr, turning back to his typing. "I have much to get written, and I have been delayed long enough."

"It won't hurt to delay a little longer," Jim said, standing and pulling back B'layr's chair. He reached for the strong hands and helped his lover up. "You need to keep up your strength. That means eating and resting at regular intervals."

"And will you rest with me?" asked B'layr, his eyebrows rising suggestively.

Jim handed his mate a warm bowl of stew and led him over to the couch situated in front of the fireplace. "You're not the only one with things to do, you know," he said with a chuckle. "I have to act as scout for the hunters. This time of year, many men come to the mountains to hunt deer. I have to keep them from discovering our hunters and our home."

"Mmmm ... this is good," B'layr said around a mouthful of the stew. "Thank you for making me stop to eat."

"You'll get more done if you're fed and rested," Jim insisted. "After all..." He tapped B'layr's temple three times with the tip of his finger. "All that brain power requires sustenance."

"Mm-hmmm," B'layr commented, finishing off his bowl of stew. "There now; maybe I can get back to work?"

"After you've had a nap," Jim said, helping B'layr off the soft cushions and steering him toward the bed.

"I do not need a nap!" B'layr snapped. He wasn't truly angry with Jim, just frustrated by the continued interruptions and delays.

Jim pulled down the covers on the bed and urged B'layr under them. "You nap now, and I promise there will be no more interruptions until dinner." He pulled the blankets up under B'layr's arms, tucking him in securely. "Okay?" Reaching out, he stroked a hand across the broad forehead, smiling as B'layr obediently closed his eyes.

"If it will make you leave me alone," B'layr said with a sigh.

"That's good," said Jim, leaning down to press a kiss against B'layr's forehead. "I'm going out to scout this afternoon. I'll see you around dinnertime."

B'layr nodded, his eyes shut and his face relaxed. Satisfied that his mate was taken care of for the time being, Jim slipped out to join the hunters.

B'layr kept his eyes closed for several minutes, wishing he had the ears of a Sentry, as he waited to make sure that Jim was gone. He slowly let his eyes drift open, and he looked around the cabin. He was alone. Throwing back the covers, B'layr crept to the door and scanned the area outside the cabin for any sign of his mate. Finally convinced that Jim had gone, B'layr sat down at the table and began to type once more.

~oO0Oo~

Two days later, a breathless scout came running up the path to the cabin. "Healer! Is J'anin here?"

B'layr looked up from his research. "No, H'amin, he is not. He is out with the hunters as a scout. What is the news?"

"The big metal bird has landed in the clearing!" said H'amin, catching his breath. "Its master says that J'anin is needed."

"The hunting party headed north," B'layr said, pointing in the general direction the elves had taken. "Go, search for J'anin and bring him to the clearing. I will meet you there."

"Yes, Healer!" H'amin turned and darted down the path toward the northern hunting grounds.

B'layr sighed and went back to his computer, shutting it down and closing the lid. Whatever the reason was that J'anin was needed, it undoubtedly meant a trip to Cascade for the couple. Tucking the laptop under his arm, B'layr made his way toward the old campground.

When he arrived, the helicopter's rotor had been shut down and Steven, Jr., stood on the ground, leaning against the craft. His eyes lit up when he saw B'layr coming. "B'layr! Good to see you! Where's Uncle Jim? Is he coming?"

"He was out on patrol with one of the hunting parties," B'layr explained. "I sent a scout to go find him and bring him here." He studied the serious face of the eldest Ellison son. "Is there a problem, Stevie?"

Steven's head dropped. "Pops isn't doing so well," he said. "He asked for Uncle Jim to come home to visit."

"He will be here soon," B'layr assured the worried man. "What is wrong with your father?"

"He's just getting old; he turned eighty-nine last month," Steven said with a sigh. "His health has been declining for the past year. He's had two minor heart attacks and stroke. He wants to see his brother before he dies."

"Steven is not going to die!" B'layr said, shaking his head. "He cannot!"

"Pops didn't inherit the same elf gene that Uncle Jim did," Steven explained. "He's old. His body is wearing out."

"But the doctors...?" B'layr asked, leaving the question incomplete as he shook his head in wonder.

"They can't do anything more for him, other than keep him comfortable," said Steven.

The two men fell silent, each lost in their own thoughts, until Jim came jogging toward them. "Stevie! What are you doing here?"

"Hi, Uncle Jim," Steven greeted the man coming toward him. "Pops wants to see you."

"Something important?" asked Jim.

"He is dying," B'layr said softly, watching the light in his soulmate's eyes dim with his words.

Jim shook his head. "No, he can't be ... Steven was just fine the last time we saw him!"

"Over a year ago," B'layr reminded his mate. "In that time, Steven has grown frail."

Jim looked to his nephew for confirmation. Steven, Jr., nodded. "I'm afraid so. Heart attacks and a stroke have taken their toll on Pops. He wanted to see you before he died."

"We need to let K'tiri know we're leaving," said Jim. "We could be gone for a while."

"Did H'amin come with you?" B'layr asked.

"No, he stayed behind to take my place as the hunt team's scout," said Jim.

"I will go, then," B'layr said. "I can run more quickly."

"Not with that extra baggage you're carrying," Jim pointed out. "I'll go." He turned and headed off into the trees before either B'layr or Steven could protest.

"You're pregnant again, Uncle B'layr?" Steven asked with surprise. "I thought you couldn't get pregnant anymore."

B'layr nodded. "It is true; I was barren after the birth of my last set of twins." The memory darkened the elf's eyes with sadness. He had lost both of the elflings during that fateful pregnancy. "But the Ancient's Healer, N'elu, controls the Old Magic and he gave me back the ability to Bear."

"Pops will be happy to hear that," Steven said. "He mourned with you after the loss of the twins."

"Your father is a good man," B'layr said softly.

Silence fell between the elf and man as they waited for Jim's return. Within a half hour, Jim came back, puffing with the effort of the run. "I'm not as young as I used to be," he complained, stopping next to the helicopter to catch his breath. "I told A'mara what was happening. He will inform K'tiri and the Tribe. Let's go." He took B'layr's arm to help the elf up into the 'copter seat, and then climbed in behind him. "Take us home, Stevie."

Steven climbed into the cockpit and started the engine. Soon they were flying above the treetops, headed back to the civilization that called itself Cascade.

~oO0Oo~

Jim had asked to be dropped off at the loft, where he and B'layr changed into the street clothes they kept there for their visits into the city.

"Can you find anything that fits?" Jim asked, knowing that the elf's belly was already making the wearing of pants problematical.

"I will do as before," B'layr said, leaving the fly unzipped. "I have a sweater that will cover me. Perhaps while we are in the city, we could shop for clothing that fits properly. I gave away most of my maternity clothes after my surgery—"

Jim quickly gathered his mate into his arms and pressed a kiss against the soft mop of curls. The memory of that time was difficult for them both. "We could do that," he agreed. "But first, we need to go visit Steven." B'layr nodded against his chest, and Jim released him. "Let's go."

~oO0Oo~

The drive to the hospital was quiet, both man and elf lost deep in thought. Steven, Jr., was waiting for them when they arrived. "Mom is here, too," he informed his uncles.

"What about William and Grace?" Jim asked. "Are they here?"

"Not right now," said Steve, leading the way through the hospital corridors to his father's room. "We rotate, so that someone is always here with him." He pushed open the door and ushered the two inside.

Steven Ellison lay propped in the bed, asleep, an oxygen tube in his nose, a heart monitor beeping softly off to the side, and several IV lines tangling around his arms. He looked older than Jim could ever remember seeing him, and it hit him hard that his younger brother was dying.

"Hello, Jim ... B'layr—" Kallie greeted them. "I'm so glad you could come. I know it will mean a lot to Steven."

Jim walked over and embraced his sister-in-law, rubbing a soothing hand up and down her back. "We had to come," he said softly. "God, I can't believe it ... Steven—" He walked over to the side of the bed and picked up a cool, limp hand. B'layr moved to stand beside Kallie, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Living among the elves ... I lose track of time," said Jim, speaking softly. "When did this happen? When did Steven grow old?"

"We've all gotten older," Kallie reminded him. "The children are all grown, and the grandchildren nearly so."

Jim shook his head, still processing the shock that seeing his brother had given him. "How is he?"

Kallie smiled. "He's doing as well as can be expected. He had a stroke about three weeks ago that put him in the hospital. That was bad enough, but he suffered a mild heart attack a little over a week ago. His doctors tell me it's only a matter of time."

"How much?" B'layr asked softly.

"Days. Hours, maybe." Kallie sighed. "That's why we wanted you here; to see him before the end."

"Kallie," B'layr spoke hesitantly, unsure of how his offer would be received. "I am the Tribe's Shaman now. If you wish, when the time comes, I could guide Steven's spirit to the Beyond."

"You could do that?" Kallie looked wide-eyed at the elf. B'layr nodded solemnly. Kallie's eyes misted over and she placed a kiss on B'layr's forehead. "It would be a blessing. Thank you."

"How long has he been asleep?" Jim asked. With his free hand, he stroked his brother's forehead, brushing back the thinning, silver hair.

"He hasn't woken up since the heart attack," Kallie admitted.

Steven, Jr., spoke up. "He's been in and out of it since the stroke. The doctor says it's unlikely he'll wake up again."

"Oh, God..." Jim sighed. "Steven, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I didn't get here sooner, or come more often—"

"Jim...?" B'layr's quiet voice interrupted. "Would you like to be able to speak with Steven one last time?"

"Yes ... of course," Jim's voice trailed off, choked by unshed tears.

"I can guide you to the Between." The elf stepped up beside Jim and laid a hand on the trembling arm.

"Take me there," Jim begged.

"You must sit," B'layr instructed, pulling a chair over so that Jim could sit next to the bed and continue holding his brother's hand. B'layr sank to the floor, his legs crossed comfortably. "Close your eyes and let me be your Guide," he told his soulmate.

~*~*~*~

Jim opened his eyes to a world tinged with blue. He stood in a small meadow, surrounded by ancient trees of the old-growth forest. B'layr stood beside him, silent and still. The rustle of footsteps drew the Sentry's attention, and Jim turned toward the sound.

Steven stepped into the meadow and looked around curiously. In this place between heartbeats in time, he was a young man again. Spying his brother, he walked over. "Jim, where are we?"

"This place is called the 'Between'," Jim explained. "It's a plane where spirits—souls—roam freely, unencumbered by their physical bodies."

"I'm dying."

"Yes, Steven, you are. But it's not your time quite yet," Jim assured him. "There's so much we haven't discussed, so much left unsaid."

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" Jim asked. "I thought I was the one who owed you an apology or three."

Steven shook his head. "For taking that crowbar to Pop's Cobra, for one. I should have said something. It wasn't fair to you."

"It wasn't fair to either of us," Jim said with a sigh. "Dad always pitted us against each other, those kinds of things were bound to happen."

"I worried about you every time you went on a special ops mission for the army," Steven continued. "I grieved when I thought you had died in that helicopter crash."

"Then why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you come by to visit after I got back?"

"I-I didn't think you'd want to see me," Steven confessed.

"All those men who died, they had families—mothers, fathers; brothers, sisters; wives and children. I had no one," Jim said softly.

"That's not true!" Steven protested. "You had us—Pops and me, and Sally."

"It didn't feel like it at the time." Jim's voice held no bitterness, only a quality of sadness.

"For that, I'm truly sorry," Steven said, reaching out to grasp his brother's shoulders.

Jim pulled Steven into a hug, firmly patting Steven's solid back. "And I apologize for holding a grudge for so long. Thank God we got passed that."

They separated, and Steven held Jim at arm's length, studying him. "I've enjoyed being the manager of your estate all these years, and I'm really glad you finally found happiness."

"And you!" Jim echoed back with a smile. "Kallie has been marvelous, and you have two wonderful children to carry on your legacy."

"And grandkids—don't forget them!" Steven added with a chuckle. "Not to mention nieces and nephews. B'layr's been so good for you. I couldn't have asked for a better brother-in-law."

Jim turned. "B'layr?" he called out, looking around for his mate. He found that B'layr had moved to the far end of the meadow and appeared to be meditating. "Well," he said, turning back to Steven, "I guess that leaves me to tell you ... B'layr is pregnant again."

"Pregnant? I thought he couldn't ... I mean, I helped set up the surgery that took his womb!" Steven glanced over to where the elf sat beneath the shade of the surrounding trees.

"Elven magic," Jim explained. "On our trip to find the Ancient Ones, we also found a Healer with the Old Magic."

"Such a miracle!" Steven said, smiling. "I'm happy for you, Jim. I really am. Tell B'layr 'congratulations' for me."

"I wish you could be here to see the child born," said Jim, reaching out once more to take hold of his brother's arm. "Can't you fight to stay with us? It isn't your time!"

"It is," Steven replied solemnly.

"No!"

"I'm not quite ready to leave this world, to leave you and Kallie and the kids, but soon, Jim."

"No, please, Stevie! Don't leave me again! Please don't go!" Jim pleaded. A soft touch on his arm made Jim turn.

"It is the way of all things to leave this world when their time is over," B'layr said softly. "When Steven is ready, I will Guide him, if he is willing."

"You'd do that for me?" Steven asked, turning wondering eyes on the elf.

"I am a Shaman. You are Family. It would be my honor to Guide you to Beyond."

"Thank you. I accept."

"Steven—" Jim's voice was strained.

"Jimmy, my time here is almost gone. I need to move on, and you need to go on with your life. Don't grieve because you outlived me; rejoice that you have a life to live—and live it fully." Steven turned to B'layr. "Will you know when it's time?"

"I will know," B'layr acknowledged. He turned to his mate. "Jim, it is time to leave. Steven needs his rest."

"Not yet—" Jim protested weakly. "Please."

Steven nodded. "I'm glad we got to talk. I love you, Bro. Take care of Kallie and the kids for me, will you?"

"They'll never want for anything, Steven. I promise." Jim reluctantly allowed B'layr to lead him away from his brother. He watched as Steven turned and walked back into the forest, disappearing from sight.

"It is time for us to return, as well," said B'layr.

~*~*~*~

Jim's eyes fluttered open and he took a moment to orient himself. Steven was still sleeping peacefully beside him. Kallie and Stevie, Jr., stood on the other side of the bed. B'layr unfurled his legs and gracefully stood, walking over to put an arm around Jim's shoulders.

"It is okay, Jim. It is all right to let Steven go. He is almost ready."

"And you'll know? You'll be able to Guide him to the Beyond?"

"Yes, my heart. I will know. Do not fear."

"Did you talk to Pops?" Stevie wanted to know after a brief silence.

Jim nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, it was good."

"He's said many times how he wanted to apologize. I'm not sure why—" Steve shrugged.

"Your dad and I had some disagreements when we were kids. Your Grandpa William had ways of pitting us against each other that caused us to part ways for many years."

"But that's been behind you for ... how long?" Steve asked. "I don't remember you two being anything but the best of friends."

"It's been a while," Jim agreed. "But old wounds heal slowly, and some leave scars."

"That is behind you now," B'layr interrupted. "It is time to move forward."

Jim wrapped an arm around B'layr's waist and nodded. "That it is."

~oO0Oo~

They had stayed a while longer and then took their leave, promising to return the next day, after they were settled.

Jim drove them to the loft after making a brief stop at the Chinatown market and a local grocery store to stock up on provisions.

"Got enough stuff there, Imp?" Jim teased as B'layr filled the vegetable bin with fresh mushrooms and exotic greens, along with several ripe tomatoes.

"It is better than your frozen pizza," B'layr retorted playfully.

"I'll have you know that my pizza is the perfect food," Jim replied, stowing the disputed item in the freezer. "It has all the basic food groups: the crust is bread/grains, the cheese is dairy, the pepperoni is meat, and there are vegetables."

"You call olives and a bit of green pepper vegetables?" B'layr asked, chuckling. "And the pepperoni would better go under 'fats' than 'meats'."

"You just wait," Jim said, shaking a finger in B'layr's direction. "Once I get it in the oven, you're going to want some."

"It would not surprise me," B'layr replied, chuckling. He tugged at the tight jeans that he wore, tossing them over a chair when he was free. "Ah, that feels much better. You must take me shopping for maternity clothes before we leave for home."

"We could go now, if you'd like," Jim suggested, finishing up putting away the groceries.

"I do not wish to put those on again right away," B'layr said, indicating the jeans. He tugged the sweater over his head and tossed it on the pile. "That is better."

Jim tried hard to suppress his smile as he watched his naked mate strut across the room to sit on the couch and pick up the TV remote control. B'layr had embraced much of civilized life, but he still balked at the confining clothes, preferring his soft leathers or nothing at all to the snug fit of the tailored jeans.

Crossing the room, Jim came to sit next to his mate. He laid a hand on the softly rounding belly and smiled.

"Can you feel anything yet?" B'layr asked.

Jim shook his head. "It's too soon. I'm still processing the fact that you're carrying our baby."

"You have had almost three months to get used to the idea," B'layr chuckled.

"And it's going to take me another nine before I believe it."

"I believe it already," said B'layr. "I can feel the first flutters of movement. Dial up touch, love."

Jim concentrated on increasing the sensitivity in his fingertips, his face lighting up when he detected the faint movement.

"You see? A new life grows within me." B'layr rested a hand over Jim's, keeping Jim firmly in contact with his belly. "Now do you believe?" The elf studied his soulmate's face, frowning when Jim's eyes clouded. "What is it, my heart?"

"I-I don't know, exactly." Jim spoke hesitantly. "It's just..."

"Yes?" B'layr prodded when Jim fell silent.

"It's just that we're bringing a new life into the world at the same time as someone else precious is leaving it."

"That is the cycle of life, dear heart," B'layr responded softly.

"I know, but ... I never expected to outlive my brother or so many of my friends. Simon is gone, and Daryl is grown with children of his own. Joel's gone, too, and Henri." Jim sighed. "I should have kept in touch. I should have come to visit more often."

"That is partly my fault," B'layr confessed. "I monopolized your time, kept you busy with the Tribe and raising children. Time flew by on ravens' wings, and we did not notice."

"When I think of everyone I've lost, everyone I will lose soon to old age, I wonder if an expanded lifetime isn't more of a curse than a blessing." Jim sighed and extricated his hand from B'layr's grasp. He reached up to cup the square jaw in his hand and leaned in to press a kiss against the full, pouting lips. "And then I look at you, at our children, at our Tribe ... and I know that it's a blessing."

"I know what will make you feel better," B'layr said, a sly grin curving his lips. He stood and offered his hand, pulling Jim to his feet and leading him across the room. Turning at the foot of the stairs, B'layr's smile broadened. "Come and Bless me."

Jim felt an unexpected lightening of his heart as he followed his mate up the stairs. "That's your answer to everything, isn't it? Sex?"

B'layr shrugged as he sat down on the bed. "It is the answer for this," he said simply, lying back and waiting for Jim to join him.

~oO0Oo~

"Good morning, J'anin." The light of a new day shone through the skylight as B'layr brushed a hand across the defined muscles of Jim's chest, raising the nipples to firm peaks.

Jim groaned and opened his eyes, his morning boner growing harder with each stroke of the elf's fingers. Reaching up, he covered the hand with his own, stilling it. "Good morning, Imp. And just what is it that you think you're doing?"

"Taking my pleasure in your body while I wait for you to wake up," B'layr informed him with a mischievous glint in his eye. "You always were a late sleeper."

Rolling onto his side, Jim gathered his soulmate into his arms and kissed him. B'layr's pliant lips opened beneath the gentle assault, willingly allowing Jim to plunder his mouth. When they parted to breathe, B'layr moaned at the loss. Jim's hand came up to caress a cheek, cradling B'layr's face in his palm. "Later, Sweetheart. I promised Stevie and Kallie that we would come by the hospital this morning."

B'layr glanced over Jim's shoulder at the clock on the nightstand. "Then we should be getting up," he said with a sigh. "It is already late."

Jim twisted his head around to glance at the clock and snorted. "It's 6:23 in the morning! Visiting hours don't start until ten."

"But as family we do not need to conform to 'visiting hours'," B'layr reminded him.

"True, but I still think we have enough time for some breakfast before we leave, and maybe a shower."

B'layr slipped out of bed and came around to Jim's side. The Sentry couldn't help but drink in the beauty of his mate. The elf stood naked, his erect cock standing at attention against the soft rounding of his belly. Jim regretted that they didn't have time for more lovemaking this morning, but knew that he wouldn't have to wait for long.

"Come, my heart." B'layr held out a hand to assist Jim out of bed. Together, they made their way down the stairs and into the kitchen.

"What would you like for breakfast?" Jim asked as B'layr turned and headed toward the bathroom for a quick shower.

"Oatmeal and fresh fruit would be fine," the elf replied. "I am not terribly hungry."

"You have to keep up your strength," Jim prodded. "After all, the baby—"

"Will get all the nutrition he needs from my body," said B'layr, completing Jim's thought. "If I eat this morning, I will need nothing more until at least tomorrow."

Jim shook his head as he reached for the box of oatmeal and a cooking pot. For all the years they'd been mated, he still couldn't get over the fact that elves needed food only once every few days. Pregnant elves could eat once every day, but that was pushing it. He smiled as he remembered his first winter with the tribe, and how he had depleted a store of food in the first couple of months that should have lasted until well into spring.

Busying himself with preparing the meal, Jim turned his hearing toward the bathroom. Sounds of running water and his soulmate bathing reawakened his slumbering cock. Small moans of contentment could be heard over the slick rasp of skin-on-skin as B'layr washed under the steaming spray. As he rinsed the shampoo from his hair, B'layr's fingers squeaked through the clean locks, untangling the mane that had grown down past his shoulders again. Jim found himself having to dial down his hearing once more as the sounds had carried him to the very brink of orgasm.

The object of Jim's attention appeared in the bathroom door, toweling his hair. "If you wish to shower, I can finish making breakfast."

"Great. Thanks." Jim took a quick glance at the pot of oatmeal. "There's not much left that needs to be done," he said. "The oatmeal is ready, and the coffee is brewing. Maybe slice some bananas?"

"Do I not remember that you bought some fresh berries as well?" asked B'layr, draping the towel he'd used on his hair around his shoulders as he walked into the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator, he bent down, searching the lower shelves.

Jim paused on his way to the bathroom to admire the rounded globes of his mate's ass, still glowing pink from the hot water. "Um, yeah, I think there's some in there somewhere," he managed, drawing his mind back to the question.

"I found them!" B'layr said, straightening up and holding up a pint box of blueberries. "Go take your shower. Steve and Kallie are expecting us."

~oO0Oo~

They arrived at the hospital an hour later and made their way to Steven, Sr.'s, room. William and Grace, Steven's two younger children, now grown, were standing outside in the hall. Grace was chewing her lower lip and looking worried.

Jim and B'layr approached, and Jim reached out to rest a calm, reassuring hand on his niece's shoulder. "What's the matter, Gracie?"

"Dad had another heart attack earlier this morning," she replied. Tears began to well in Grace's eyes as she let go of the tension that had gripped her since her father's relapse. Jim gathered her into his arms and let her cry against his shoulder.

B'layr came to stand beside William and asked the younger man, "How is he?"

William's lips were pressed together in a tight, bloodless line. He took a few seconds to compose himself before answering. "He's stable, for now, but the doctors say that it's going to be soon."

"Can we see him?" Jim asked as Grace uncurled herself from his arms.

"He's resting right now," Kallie answered from the doorway. "You may come in, if you like."

"Where's Stevie?" Jim asked as they entered the small hospital room and walked over to the bed to view his brother sleeping.

"He's at the chapel," Kallie explained softly. "He figured that a little divine intervention at this point couldn't hurt. He's taking this really hard. Steve and Steven were very close."

"B'layr, isn't there something you can do?" Jim asked, feeling the seed of desperation grow as he watched the slow rise and fall of Steven's chest.

The Tribe's Healer shook his head. "I do not know, my heart. I can try; but Steven is not elvenkind. He may not respond to me."

"But you'll try?" Jim asked, on the verge of begging his mate.

B'layr gave a single nod of his head. "I can, at least, try." He reached his arms out over the sleeping man, positioning one hand above Steven's forehead, the other over his chest. Closing his eyes, the Healer called on his spirit guide. "Spirit of the Wolf, guide my healing of this man."

Kallie gasped when she saw the dim glow of light radiate from B'layr's palms to illuminate her husband.

"Mom?" Grace's voice was a whisper as she and William walked in to flank Kallie.

"Shhh..." Kallie lifted a hand to quiet her daughter as the family looked on in awe.

Finally, B'layr dropped his hands and opened his eyes. "I have done what I can, but Steven's body is worn; it will not serve him much longer."

Steven's eyes fluttered open and locked on Kallie's as Jim came around to stand behind B'layr, encircling the elf with his arms.

"Steven! Oh, God!" Kallie covered her gaping mouth with her hands as tears streamed down her cheeks. Then, quickly, she took her husband's face between her palms and kissed him gently. "How do you feel?"

"Tired," Steven answered weakly. His mouth curved up in a grin as he saw Grace and William standing beside their mother.

B'layr tilted his head up, turning slightly to catch Jim's eyes. "I will find the chapel and bring Stevie back. You take this opportunity to say good-bye to your brother."

As B'layr turned to leave, Jim snagged his arm. "Thank you, love, for giving us this time."

B'layr closed his eyes and nodded his head once in acknowledgment, then slipped out of Jim's hold to go in search of Steven's eldest son.

"Jim?" Steven's voice was weak, but loud enough to be heard with normal hearing. "I talked with you. We were ... somewhere else."

Jim nodded, picking up Steven's hand to cradle it in his own. "B'layr took us to the spirit plane. I was afraid it might be our only chance to talk."

"He is good for you ... the elf. I was ... shocked ... at first..." Steven stopped to take a few breaths and Kallie offered him a sip of water. "I never suspected you'd be gay..." He stopped again; the conversation obviously exhausting him. "But B'layr ... B'layr is the best thing that could have happened to you."

"He's a true part of our family," Kallie agreed, looking up from her husband to smile briefly at Jim.

"I can't imagine my life without him," Jim said softly. "But the one thing that makes life with the elves hard is..." He stopped to swallow the lump building in his throat. "...is outliving everyone else that I love."

"No regrets, Jim. Remember what Pops used to tell us?" Steven smiled up at his brother. "You're living the life you were meant to live..." He paused. "I'm glad you're here."

"Me, too, Bro. Me too." Jim squeezed the frail hand he held.

"Don't let anyone else slip away without telling them how much you love them," Steven cautioned. "While you're here in Cascade..."

"I'll look them all up, Steven. I promise."

"Dad?" Steve rushed into the room, followed by B'layr, who made his way back over to Jim's side.

"He could not believe what I told him," B'layr said softly to his mate. "He thought I had come to speak of Steven's passing."

Jim graced his mate with a smile before turning his attention back to the family reunion around the bed.

"Stevie, take care of your mother," Steven lectured his eldest son. "She's going to need you now. And Gracie and Billy...?"

"We're here, Pops," William said, coming over to the bed.

"Do what you can to help Stevie. Remember, we're a family."

"Yes, Pops." Gracie moved in closer so that she could give her father a kiss on the cheek, tears streaming down her face.

Steven reached up with one shaking hand to wipe at the tears. "Don't cry, Princess. I'm going to a place with no more pain or infirmities."

"I don't want you to die, Daddy," Gracie sniffled.

"I'm not leaving you for a while yet," Steven tried to reassure his daughter as she backed away to turn into William's arms for a good cry.

Kallie moved in to take her daughter's place at the bedside. "Maybe you should rest a bit now," she told Steven. "Conserve your strength. I'm going to call the doctor and let him know that you've been awake and talking with us. He'll be very pleased."

Steven nodded and closed his eyes, quickly falling back into a restful slumber.

Kallie pushed the call button on the side railing of the bed, and a nurse showed up in short order. "Tell Dr. Chase that Steven woke up and talked with us."

"That's great news, Mrs. Ellison! I'm certain that Dr. Chase will be here shortly." The nurse left, as the family gathered around the bed to wait.

~oO0Oo~

Dr. Chase looked up from the exam of his patient. Steven was awake again and responding to questions.

"I don't know what happened here, but I think we have a bit of a reprieve," the doctor announced. "Mr. Ellison's heartbeat is stronger and more regular than just a few hours ago."

"Is there a chance he might recover?" Kallie asked hopefully.

Dr. Chase managed a smile as he responded. "I've been in medicine going on thirty-seven years, and the one thing I've learned from my patients is that there are no absolutes. I've seen men on their deathbeds come back to live long, happy lives, and seemingly stable patients to go without a moment's notice." He laid a reassuring hand on Kallie's back, supporting her. "The signs are all good, for now. Why don't you all go home for a few hours and get some rest? I'll let you know if there's any change in Steven's condition."

"Thanks, Doctor," said Jim, shaking the man's hand. "That's the best news we've heard all morning."

The rest of the family thanked the doctor as he took his leave. Once they were alone again, Kallie turned to B'layr. "Dr. Chase may not know the reason for Steven's sudden recovery, but all of us do. Thank you, B'layr. You've given us a gift."

"He is Family," was B'layr's simple answer.

"Let's take the Doc up on his suggestion," Jim said, guiding his mate around the bed and toward the door. "Steven could use some real rest, and I'm sure all of us could use the break—especially you four." His words were directed at Kallie and her three grown children. "Go home. Take a shower and get a nap, and then come back."

"He's right, Mom," Steve said, wrapping one of Kallie's hands between both of his. "We're not doing Pops any good if we're exhausted. It's just for a few hours."

"You all go," Kallie said. "I'll stay a while longer."

"No way, Mom," Gracie insisted. "If we have to go, you have to go. Come on, it will do you good. We could get a mocha latte at the Cappuccino Shack. What do you say?"

Kallie turned to gaze at her sleeping husband, listening to the reassuring, steady blips of the monitors. "All right," she finally agreed. "Just for a few hours."

Jim and B'layr followed the rest of the family out of the room, leaving Steven alone to rest. They followed Kallie and the kids out to the parking lot, where they finally parted ways.

"How do you feel about going to the mall and finding yourself some comfortable clothes?" Jim asked as they climbed into the truck.

B'layr turned to eye his mate speculatively. "Are you certain you wish to shop now? We could go home, if you wish."

"No, that's all right," said Jim, shaking his head. "I need to keep busy; not think about things so much. So, what do you say?"

"I say we should shop," B'layr answered with an impish grin.

The mall had barely opened by the time they arrived, so the corridors were still relatively uncrowded as the couple made their way through the building, looking for an appropriate clothing store.

"There is the maternity shop," B'layr pointed out. The store was across the hallway on their right and just two doors ahead of them.

Jim shook his head. "Maternity shops are for women," he said. "They only carry dresses and femininely decorated clothing. You need something more ... masculine."

"Why?" the elf asked. "The maternity dresses that I had before were extremely comfortable. I was looking forward to getting some new ones."

"That was a long time ago," Jim pointed out. "We weren't even really a couple yet, and it was an emergency. I couldn't have you going around Cascade naked."

"That was before you accepted that we were soulmates," B'layr corrected. "We were always mated, since the day I conceived L'anin in your tent."

"You're picking at nits, Imp," growled Jim, smiling at his unrepentant mate. "The point is, you don't need dresses now. We can find something more ... appropriate."

"Why?" the elf repeated. "Is not comfort the most important consideration?"

"You're a man," Jim hissed. "You need to dress like one."

"I am an elf," B'layr pointed out. "I only look like a man. And I do not care what I wear, so long as it is comfortable."

Jim shook his head and steered B'layr into a Big and Tall men's shop. The elf looked around, wide-eyed, shaking his head.

"I am neither tall nor big," B'layr pointed out. "Why are we here?"

"Because you're going to be big, if I can extrapolate from previous pregnancies," Jim explained. "They'll have some larger size pants and shirts that will fit you better when you start to ... grow."

"They will not fit properly," B'layr argued. "They may fit around my waist, but they will be too large elsewhere."

"We can have them tailored."

"And you would rather take me to a tailor and explain how your male-looking mate is pregnant, than to let me shop for real maternity clothes?"

"B'layr ... please..." Jim let his voice trail off, tired of arguing.

"Perhaps I can find something here," B'layr acquiesced. "But you will let me go to the maternity shop as well?"

"If we don't find you enough here," Jim reluctantly agreed.

A half hour later found B'layr with one small shopping bag combing through the racks of maternity dresses at the shop across the hall. He pulled out a deep, sapphire blue dress, a solid color, but with a faint pattern woven into the cloth.

"What do you think about this one?"

"It brings out the blue of your eyes," Jim admitted, feeling the beginning stirrings of arousal as he watched his mate hold the dress up to his shoulders.

"Then I shall take this one," said B'layr, draping the dress over his arm. A few minutes later he held up a brightly colored, floral print. Jim pursed his lips and shook his head; B'layr slipped the dress back on the rack. "Why not help me look?" he suggested.

"You liked the overalls last time," Jim commented, finding the garments hanging along a wall of the shop.

"I would like some jeans or overalls," B'layr agreed. "It gets uncomfortably cold in the winter if my legs are not covered."

"May I help you?" asked the clerk, who had been in a fitting room helping another customer when Jim and B'layr had come in.

"We're doing fine," Jim answered, hoping to get the woman off their backs.

"Perhaps your wife would like to try something on?" the clerk suggested, turning her attention toward B'layr. "How far along are you? You're not showing yet."

"Three months," B'layr replied, continuing to look through the racks of dresses. "But I am already finding my clothes fit too tightly."

"I know just what you mean," the woman commiserated. "I usually find out I'm pregnant when my clothes start pinching around my waist. It's usually even before my first missed period."

"Your body is undoubtedly retaining water," B'layr told the woman. "You might try the leaves of the bearberry tree; it is a commonly used herbal diuretic."

"Really? I don't know much about herbal remedies." The clerk pawed her way through a rack of dresses, coming up with a print of burgundy red and a rich cream. "How about this? It's stunning with your complexion."

B'layr took the dress and regarded it briefly, nodding and laying it over his arm with his other choices. "I have studied herbs for many years. Among my people, I am known as a Healer."

"How very interesting! Well, I'll remember what you said—bearberry?" B'layr nodded. The saleswoman continued, "For the next time I get pregnant."

"How many children do you have?" B'layr asked.

"Two," the woman replied.

Jim walked over and took B'layr's arm, tugging him backward. "I don't mean to break up this little coffee klatch of yours, but don't you think we ought to make some decisions here and get going?"

B'layr nodded and turned to the clerk. "I could use some of those jeans with the elastic inset."

"Oh, aren't those just the most comfortable?" the woman enthused as she led B'layr to where the pants were displayed.

"Actually, I prefer the dresses..." B'layr began before Jim grabbed his arm again.

"Let's just find something that fits, all right?" Jim hissed. "We need to get out of here."

"Why?" B'layr asked again, beginning to wonder about his mate.

"I'll explain in the truck," said Jim. "Can we just find what you need ... please?"

Ten minutes later, loaded with their purchases, Jim and B'layr headed back to the truck.

"What was with you in there?" B'layr asked, climbing into the passenger side door.

"With me? What was with you?" Jim countered, sliding behind the wheel of the truck. "The way you two were jabbering, don't you think that clerk would have figured out that you're a ma ... not a woman?"

"Would it matter so very much?"

"I don't know," Jim said, still confused and a little upset. "What do you think would happen if knowledge of the existence of elves were to leak out to the public?"

B'layr pondered the thought for a few minutes. "Perhaps it would not be good," he agreed. "I still know relatively little of your culture, but what I do know leads me to believe that humans are very capable of 'going off the deep end' when they do not understand something."

"Exactly!" Jim nodded in confirmation. "It would be all over the news. Who knows how long your culture in the forest would survive?"

"I shall endeavor to be more careful when in public," B'layr promised, agreeing with Jim, but not the least apologetic for his original comments.

"I'm hungry," Jim said as the approached a Wonder Burger. "Want anything?"

"I ate this morning, remember?" B'layr said with a chuckle. "If I live to be five hundred, your ability to eat three or more times a day will never cease to amaze me."

"You don't know what you're missing," said Jim as he pulled into the drive-up lane.

"Yes, I do. You fed me a Wonderburger and fries once, remember?"

"What I remember most about that was your fascination with the ketchup," Jim shot back.

B'layr shrugged. "I have a passion for the red fruits. It does not matter the form they take."

"One Double-Wonder Combo Meal, please," Jim spoke into the microphone.

"What would you like to drink, sir?" came the tinny reply.

"Diet Coke."

"That will be $5.65 at the window. Please pull forward."

"You are eating a Double-Wonder Combo and drinking a diet cola?" B'layr chuckled. "And you think I am the hard one to figure out?"

Jim let out a gruff harrumph as he pulled the truck up to the window and paid for his meal. "I guess we all have our idiosyncrasies. I'll forgive yours, if you'll forgive mine."

"I look forward to forgiving you when we get home," B'layr replied with a twinkle in his eye.

~oO0Oo~

"Oh God, B'layr!" Jim huffed as he struggled to stay up on his hands and knees while his mate pounded into his backside. B'layr's fingers encircled the base of his cock, denying Jim the release of his climax. "Plea-sssse..." he begged, his penis throbbing with ever-increasing arousal.

"Almost, my heart," came the breathy reply from above Jim as B'layr drove deep into his lover's body, burying himself completely in the moist heat. His cock pulsed in rhythm to Jim's heartbeat; their bodies in complete synchronicity. Releasing his hold on Jim's throbbing member, he stroked the hot flesh until he could feel the surge building within his mate's body.

As one, man and elf came together, their cries of completion echoing around the chamber of the loft. B'layr collapsed on top of his soulmate, his sweat-slicked body already beginning to cool.

Feeling the minute tremors of B'layr's shivers, Jim rolled over, toppling his lover from his back. He turned to face B'layr, pulling the blankets up over them both. "You're forgiven," he whispered into one delicately pointed ear.

"As are you, my heart."

Under the blankets, Jim allowed his hand to drift down to the slight swell of B'layr's belly, resting it there, over the child of their joining. "This never ceases to amaze me," he said softly. "You have a life growing in there. Our child."

"Even in times of sorrow, there is joy," B'layr said, resting a hand over Jim's. "Life is a circle of death and rebirth. Remember that there is always love. Ours is more than just a bonding of souls, J'anin. Our joining is a love for the ages, and this child is a physical manifestation of that love."

Jim leaned forward to capture the lush lips in a passionate kiss. He raised his hand from B'layr's stomach to let his fingers tangle in the long strands of silky hair, holding his love against him as he plundered the willing mouth.

When they finally parted, B'layr lifted a hand to cup Jim's cheek. "I love you, J'anin, mate of my soul, holder of my heart."

"B'layr, my soul ... the other half of me, holder of my heart—" Jim found it difficult to speak the endearment, as his throat had tightened with the outpouring of love he felt for this man—this elf, the Bearer of his seed.

B'layr snuggled into Jim's embrace, tucking his head under his lover's chin and letting his hand drift lightly over a puckered nipple before finding rest wrapped around Jim's back. Closing his eyes, he sighed lightly before sleep quickly took him.

Jim pressed a single kiss against the mop of curls under his chin and wrapped his arms more tightly around the sleeping elf. Closing his own eyes, Jim drifted into blessed unconsciousness with the scent of their lovemaking lulling him.

~oO0Oo~

It was evening before they awakened. Sharing a quick shower, man and elf headed for the kitchen.

"I thought you weren't planning on eating again today," Jim teased as he put the electric wok on the counter.

"I am not, but I thought I could help you prepare your meal," B'layr responded, putting a variety of vegetables next to the wok. "What kind of meat did you want? We have chicken, beef, or pork."

"Pork, I guess," said Jim, pausing before he began to slice the meat into thin strips for his stir-fry. "Odd, isn't it? But I have a craving for some fresh venison."

"There is nothing so strange about that," B'layr responded. "It is what you're used to now. The pork will make a nice change for you. Don't forget the broccoli. You need the vitamins."

"Yes, Mom." Jim's voice was light, teasing.

"If I did not watch you, you would eat too much meat and not nearly enough vegetables. I do not wish for you to have a heart attack. Do not presume you are immune, just because you have elven genes. Elves die, too." B'layr pinned his mate with a stern look, reminding Jim of how very close he'd come to losing this precious half of his soul.

"Carrots and cauliflower, too," Jim said briskly, adding the ingredients to the wok. Meat and veggies sizzled for a few minutes as Jim tossed them, coating everything with a light sheen of peanut oil. "Are you sure you don't want some?"

"It smells wonderful," B'layr admitted. "But I cannot. I do not eliminate my waste the way you do. I must wait for my body to assimilate what it has consumed."

The phone rang, and B'layr jumped, startled.

"Here, stir this," Jim said, handing over the wooden spoon he was using to toss the stir-fry. "I'll get the phone."

"Ellison household," Jim answered crisply.

"Jim?" The voice on the other end of the line shook with emotion. "It's Kallie ... Steven ... he..."

"Kallie, are you all right? What's wrong? What's happened to Steven?" Jim shot the questions like bullets.

"Steven has taken a sudden turn for the worse. The doctor thinks that he probably won't last the night."

"We'll be right there," Jim promised, saying his quick good-byes and hanging up the phone.

"It is time," B'layr said, removing the wok from the heat and turning off the burner. Jim nodded and they both headed for the door, reaching for their coats as they passed the rack.

Jim made short work of the drive to the hospital. B'layr was holding tight to anything he could get a grip on, still highly uncomfortable with his mate's disregard for the speed limits. They parked and rushed inside, and were met in the hall by Steve, William, and Grace.

"Oh, Uncle Jim!" Grace threw herself into her uncle's arms as he approached, sobbing.

B'layr acknowledged the siblings with a nod before quietly slipping past them and into the room with Steven and Kallie.

"B'layr! I'm so glad you're here!" Kallie cried, tears streaming down her face. "He's getting weaker by the minute." She indicated the beeping monitors with a wave of her hand. "Can you help him?"

"I will try," B'layr promised. Again, he stood by the bed, stretching his hands out over the body. With a look of extreme concentration on his face, he did his best to call upon the healing energies.

Jim walked in as B'layr was in his trance, and positioned himself behind the Healer. When B'layr finally opened his eyes, he stumbled backward, drained. Jim caught him and lowered him into a nearby chair.

"There is nothing more I can do here," B'layr said sadly. "Steven is tired and ready to shed his earthly body. All I can do now, is help lead him to Beyond."

"Will you do that?" Kallie asked softly.

B'layr nodded. "Of course. It is what I have promised." He turned to his mate. "Jim, would you help me?"

"What do I have to do?"

"Just sit behind me, support me. When this is over, I will most likely be drained."

"Is it safe? I mean ... you're pregnant. Will this hurt the baby in any way?"

"No, my heart. All will be well. Help me now. It is time." B'layr slipped from the chair to sit cross-legged on the floor.

Jim settled behind him, crossing his own legs and pulling B'layr into the hollow of his lap, allowing the young Shaman to lean against his strength.

B'layr began to hum and sway in a hypnotic rhythm. Kallie and her children all gathered around the bed, not knowing exactly what to expect, but trusting in the elf to do what was needed.

~*~*~*~

"Where are we?" Steven asked, looking around the blue forest landscape.

B'layr walked up beside him, dressed in traditional Shaman garb, his face painted for the ceremony. "We are back in the Between," he answered. "This is where you met with Jim a short time ago."

Steven nodded. "Yes, I remember. Why are we here? Where is Jim?"

"Jim could not come," said B'layr softly. "This is your journey, Steven."

"I'm dying."

"Yes."

"What do I do now?" Steven looked around him with a flash of panic in his eyes.

B'layr took his hand. "I will lead you as far as I can," he promised. "If there is anything you would like to say to your loved ones, I will take the message back to them."

"Tell them how very much I love them," Steven said. "Kallie has been my rock all these years, and the kids... a man couldn't ask for a better family."

"And Jim?" asked B'layr, turning them toward a wide path thickly covered in pine needles.

"Tell Jim that I wish him nothing but happiness in his life. He was the best big brother a man could ever ask for. I'm forever grateful that he found you, and that you have taken such good care of him." Steven laid a hand on the elf's belly. "And the life that grows inside you is a miracle. Never forget that."

"I will not."

As they walked, a wolf appeared at B'layr's side and a sleek, tawny cat at Steven's. The man started a bit when he saw the wild animals and shied away from the cat.

"He is your spirit guide," B'layr explained. "Do not fear him. When I have walked the path as far as I am allowed to go, he will take you the rest of the way."

Steven reached a tentative hand out to the feline, petting its hard, muscular flank. The animal turned golden eyes up to the man and opened its mouth in a silent roar of approval.

Man and elf continued the journey in silence until there was a sharp dip in the path, which now headed downhill toward a gleaming patch of light.

"That is your path, Steven," said B'layr, pointing the way. "I can go no further. Do not fear the way. What is waiting for you Beyond is a better existence."

"I'm going to miss my family..." Steven said, hesitating.

"And they will miss you," B'layr affirmed. "But all will one day walk this path—even Jim and myself. We will see you again."

"Take care of them for me."

"They will want for nothing, so long as Jim and I live," the elf promised.

"Just walk down this path?" Steven looked from B'layr to the trail.

B'layr nodded. "Your spirit guide will be with you. Walk toward the light and do not be afraid. I will remain until you are safely Beyond."

"Thank you ... for everything." Steven turned back to hug the elf, and B'layr returned the heartfelt embrace.

"You are Family, and this is our way. You are welcome, Steven Ellison. Now go...."

Steven turned back toward the path, one hand resting on the shoulder of the tawny cat as he walked toward the brilliant patch of sunlight. Just before he reached it, he turned back to wave.

B'layr watched as his brother-in-law stepped into the light and disappeared. With a sigh, he dropped into a crouch and wrapped his arms around the wolf. From the underbrush to his right, a large, black cat emerged, walking over to him and licking his cheek. B'layr turned to his mate's spirit guide and smiled. It was done. Steven was gone.

~*~*~*~

B'layr slumped in Jim's arms, the constant, droning hum coming to an abrupt end. All the monitors attached to Steven bottomed out, screaming their mechanical warning to the staff. Doctors and nurses came running, but it was soon obvious that there was nothing left to do.

"He is gone," B'layr said, waking up in Jim's embrace.

The doctor on duty called the time of death, and then left the family alone to grieve.

With Jim's help, B'layr made it back to his feet and walked over to the bed to stand next to Kallie and William. "He wanted you to know how very much he loved all of you," he said softly. "He felt blessed by his marriage and his children."

"I-Is he all right? Did he suffer?" asked Kallie, wiping away a tear.

"He did not really want to go, but he knew it was his time," B'layr explained. "He did not suffer; he has gone to a better place, led there by his spirit guide. He has gone to his Ancestors, as we all shall someday."

"Thank you, B'layr. I-I'm so glad that he didn't have to die alone." Kallie reached out to hug the elf.

B'layr wrapped his arms around Kallie's slender waist. "He was not alone. He had all of you."

Jim took Kallie's arm and led her out into the hall as Steven's children said their good-byes. "I'll help you with the arrangements. There's money enough in my trust to cover the funeral expenses."

"You don't have to do that!" Kallie protested. "Steven took care of most of the details while he was still relatively healthy."

"I want to help," Jim insisted. "I haven't been here as much as I should have been. I need to do this."

"Thank you." Kallie allowed Jim to gather her into his arms and hold her against his chest while she cried.

~oO0Oo~

Four days later, the memorial service, held at the family's home church, was well attended by the many friends that Steven and Jim had made over the years. Jim's eyes swept the crowd, seeing Daryl Banks and his wife, Annie, Joel Taggert's three daughters, and Rafe among the mourners. Seeing them all grown older, Jim couldn't help but remember his promise to Steven that he would visit his friends while he still could.

Kallie, Steve, William, and Grace sat in the front row, a constant stream of tears coming from the two women. They listened as one after another of Steven's friends stepped forward to eulogize his memory.

When the service was over, the family slipped away to a limousine that took them out to the cemetery for the private burial service. Jim and B'layr followed in the truck, parking behind the limo.

As they stood under the small tent erected over the gravesite, B'layr nudged Jim gently. "Steven had words for you, too, my heart. He wished you nothing but happiness in this life and was grateful to have you as his big brother. He told me how happy he was that we found each other, and he reminded me of what a miracle our child is." B'layr laid a hand over his stomach.

Jim shuddered slightly against B'layr's side, fighting to hold back the nearly overwhelming sense of loss. B'layr snaked an arm around his mate's waist, supporting him through the short service. They took their turn walking up to the casket and placing a white rose on the lid, then stepped back to watch as it was slowly lowered into the ground.

A hand on his arm brought Jim's thoughts back to the present. Kallie smiled at him and squeezed his biceps. "Thank you, Jim. You don't know what a blessing it was to me to have you here. You, too, B'layr. I can't thank you enough for what you did for Steven."

"It was my honor to be his Guide," B'layr replied solemnly.

"So, are you going back to the forest now? Back to your home?" asked Kallie.

Jim shook his head. "I'd like to stay in Cascade a while longer—visit some old friends that I've neglected for too long."

Kallie patted Jim's arm. "That's a very good idea. Life is too fleeting to let friendships languish."

"Are you coming by the house for Dad's wake?" Steve asked, coming up to his mother's side. "It's just going to be family and a few close friends. Daryl Banks is invited. He and his wife have stayed in pretty close contact with the family since Simon's death and your leaving."

Jim glanced over at B'layr, who nodded and smiled in agreement. "Sure. We'll be there. What time?"

"You can come by any time, of course," said Kallie, "but the official time is 6:30. There will be a dinner buffet, so bring your appetites."

"We're having it catered," Grace quickly put in when she saw the look of concerned bewilderment on her uncle's face. It had long become a family joke that Kallie couldn't boil water without burning it—a jibe she endured with good-humored forbearance.

"We'll be there," Jim promised, leaning in to give Kallie a kiss on the cheek. "See you this evening." He turned, and guided B'layr away from the funeral bower toward the truck.

~oO0Oo~

"How do I look?" B'layr asked, fussing with the blue maternity dress he had chosen for the occasion. "Maybe I should have worn the jeans."

"You look fine," Jim assured him, admiring how the clingy material accentuated the bulge around B'layr's middle. "This will only be family and friends, and they either already know that you're pregnant, or we'd tell them anyway. You should be comfortable."

"I am," B'layr assured him. "All right, go ahead—" He nodded toward the door.

Jim reached out to push the bell, but the door swung open before he could get a finger on the button. "It's about time! I was wondering how long you were going to stand out there before coming in!" William greeted his guests. "Come on in. The party is just getting started."

"Jim! B'layr! It's good to see you again," said Kallie, coming over to give them a hug. "You look marvelous in that dress!" she complimented B'layr. "It really brings out the color of your eyes."

B'layr nodded and looked around the room, seeing several people he knew, and a few that he didn't.

"Are you boys hungry? There's a wonderful buffet over on the dining room table." Kallie pointed them in the right direction.

"Jim? B'layr?" a familiar voice beckoned.

Turning, toward the sound, Jim smiled when he recognized Simon's son. "Daryl? Good God, man, how long as it been?"

"Too many years ... far too many years," Daryl chuckled. "You've met my wife, Annie? Annie, this is Jim Ellison, he used to work with Dad on the police force. And this," he said, reaching out to rest a hand on B'layr's shoulder, "is his soulmate, B'layr." Daryl stopped to study the elf for a moment. "You preggers again, B'layr?"

"Yes, in my third month," B'layr confirmed, resting a hand on his rounding belly.

"But you're..." Annie sputtered.

"Didn't I tell you, Annie?" asked Daryl, surprised by his own oversight. "B'layr is an elf, and elf males can get pregnant."

"Until recently, there was no distinction between the sexes for elves," B'layr explained. "Any of us can get pregnant."

"Yeah, and take a look at this!" Daryl reached over to tuck a long strand of hair behind B'layr's ear, revealing the upswept point. "Isn't that a kick? I never could get used to that."

"Um..." Annie looked a bit flustered. "I thought elves were fairy tales. You're telling me they exist, for real?"

"In the forests of the Cascade Mountains," Daryl confirmed.

"It's very nice to meet you," Annie said, extending a hand, which B'layr took and squeezed gently. "Congratulations on your baby. Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?"

"It is an elf," B'layr said, his voice deadpan.

"Most likely a 'boy'," Jim explained. "There are very few female elves in the tribe."

"Oh." Annie fell silent.

Daryl wrapped an arm around his wife. "You know, this has to remain a secret. Only family and close friends know B'layr's true identity. If the knowledge that elves really existed were to leak out ... well, I wouldn't want to imagine what would happen."

Annie nodded. "I understand." She looked around for a polite way out, and spotting Grace over by the fireplace, said her good-byes. "If you don't mind, I'll be over there, talking with Grace."

"See you soon," Daryl said, letting her go. Turning back to his friends, he winked. "I think I finally found a way to fluster that woman. I didn't think anything could flap her cool."

"I hope I did not make her uncomfortable," said B'layr, following Daryl's wife with his eyes. "She seemed eager to leave."

"Just give her some time to process the notion," Daryl assured the elf. "Once she's had a chance to talk it over with Grace, she'll come around. Gosh, it's good to see you two again! Whatcha been up to?"

"We recently returned from a world trip," Jim explained. "B'layr found evidence of elves in the Mayan culture, so we went to Mexico to follow the trail. We ended up in Romania, of all places!"

"Really? So there are more elves in the world than just the ones here?"

"The elves did not originate on this continent," B'layr explained. "They migrated here and were taken into captivity. Those that escaped, made their way to the Northwest."

"And originally...?" Daryl eyed the couple.

"Originally, the elves came from what is now Romania," said B'layr.

"Dracula country?" Daryl cocked an eyebrow at the thought.

Jim nodded. "Transylvania was once a part of the area, yeah; and there were a lot of gypsies around."

"A kindly Gypsy Vaida, a chief, and his wife gave us shelter and supplies," added B'layr.

"And you found the original tribe?" Daryl was amazed at the prospect.

"Yes, and they possessed magic that our tribe has not seen for generations," B'layr told him.

"Well, that's pretty awesome," said Daryl. "What now?"

"I wish to write a paper on the subject," B'layr admitted. "I have a Master's degree in anthropology, but I have enough information now for a doctoral thesis. I just need to find some time to write."

"I hope you manage to get it done," said Daryl.

"Thank you," B'layr replied. "I shall manage ... somehow."

"So," Jim chimed in, "what's become of the rest of the Major Crime gang? Are any of them still with us?"

"Joel Taggert died two years ago, shortly after Dad," Daryl said. "But his daughters are still in town. Henri Brown is gone ... that guy was a hoot." Daryl smiled at the memory. "Rafe is still around, but he's getting pretty frail. You heard he married Megan Connor?"

"No! You're pulling my leg," Jim replied, disbelieving.

Daryl held up a hand to swear by his statement. "It's God's honest truth, Jim. I wouldn't lie."

"So how is Megan?"

"Not so good. She was diagnosed with Alzheimer's three and a half years ago, and has been going steadily downhill," Daryl explained. "She's in a nursing home now. I guess she doesn't even recognize Rafe when he comes to visit."

Jim shook his head sadly. "God, that's awful! I'll have to see about visiting them if I have some time before I go home. There's hardly anybody left that I know."

"I'm sure they'd be happy to see you," Daryl replied. "It's a real shame about Megan. She was always such a big personality, you know? She filled up the room when she walked in."

"Tell me about it," Jim snorted, chuckling at the memory. "She and I butted heads more than once."

"I remember her," B'layr said. "Wasn't she the redhead from Australia?"

"The very one," said Jim, nodding.

"I liked her," commented B'layr. "We should definitely make time for a visit while we're here."

"She won't remember who you are," Daryl reminded them. "But she'd probably love the having the company. I don't think too many people visit other than Rafe."

"Jim? Jim Ellison?" A pretty middle-aged black woman approached the small group, her hand outstretched in greeting. "I'm Marsha—Marsha Taggert, Joel's daughter...? You probably don't remember me."

Jim accepted the hand and shook it gently. "Of course I do!" he said, grinning ear-to-ear. "But the last time I saw you, you were about this high." He held his hand just above knee level. "It's been a few years."

"You haven't changed a bit! I swear, you haven't," Marsha exclaimed. "What's your secret? If you could bottle it, you'd be a millionaire!"

"Just good genes," Jim said, with a wink at B'layr. "I don't think you've met B'layr; he's my life partner."

"Oh, the elf? Daddy told me about you!" Marsha turned to B'layr and smiled. "It's so good to finally meet you!"

"It is my pleasure to meet you," B'layr replied. "I respected your father. He was a great man."

"Yes, he was, wasn't he?" Marsha sighed. "I was so sorry to hear about your brother's illness, Jim. It must be hard losing him like this."

Jim nodded. "I'd gotten to the point where I figured he'd just always be there. Thank goodness for his children and grandchildren. At least I still have family in Cascade."

"And don't you forget it, Uncle Jim!" said Steve, walking over to join the group. "You don't come to visit often enough, and I'm going to need some help sorting through all the papers for your trust. Dad was sort of easing me in to taking over for him, but then all this happened so fast."

"I think we'll be in town a while longer," Jim said. "I've got some other visiting I'd like to do before we go home. Losing Steven like this has just hammered home the lesson that life is short. I have to take advantage of my friendships while I still can."

Kallie joined the growing group of guests and cast a concerned glance at B'layr. "B'layr, Honey, are you all right? You're awfully pale."

"I am fine," the elf assured her, "just a little tired."

"Then you should come and sit down for a bit," Kallie said, leading him toward the couch. "Or would you rather lie down?"

"Really, Kallie, I am fine," B'layr insisted, settling on the soft cushions.

Jim made his apologies to the group and walked over to see what was wrong with his mate. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing is the matter, my heart," B'layr assured him. "Kallie is fussing over me again."

"I am not," came Kallie's quick rebuttal. "You're tired and pale, you need to sit."

"Would you like something from the buffet?" Jim suggested. "I know you haven't eaten yet today."

"Perhaps that would be good," B'layr said, starting to rise.

Jim pushed him back down onto the couch. "You just wait here. I'll bring you something."

"I am perfectly capable of getting up and getting something for myself," argued B'layr.

"Yes, but," Jim said, keeping a hand on B'layr's shoulder to keep his mate seated, "I want to do this for you."

"Fine. Thank you." B'layr watched Jim walk over to the buffet table. He had to admit, he was relieved his mate had been so insistent. A sudden wave of nausea swept through him, such as he hadn't felt since the early weeks of his pregnancy. He rested his head against the back of the couch and closed his eyes until the uneasiness passed.

The cushions dipped, and B'layr opened his eyes to see Jim sitting beside him with a full plate of food. He smiled. "That is enough for both of us," he teased.

"Easier than carrying two plates," Jim replied. "Now, eat something. Kallie's right, you do look pale."

"I am not feeling so well," B'layr admitted. "I was fine earlier. I don't know what happened."

"You may not need to eat a lot," Jim lectured, "but you need to eat on time—on a regular schedule. You're pregnant, and your body needs the nutrients."

"Perhaps you are right," B'layr said, picking at the offerings on the plate and starting with a slice of tomato. "It has been so long since the last pregnancy, that I have forgotten the toll it takes on me."

"You finish eating, and then I'm taking you home," Jim said.

B'layr shook his head. "This is your brother's wake. We should stay."

"Look. Steven really liked you, you know," Jim pointed out. "He wouldn't want me to insist that we stay at his wake when you're not feeling well. He'd want me to take you home and put you to bed."

"If you are certain?" B'layr felt a twinge of guilt at taking Jim away from the celebration of his brother's life, but to be honest, stress from the past week was catching up to him, and he needed to slow down.

"Absolutely." Jim handed the plate to B'layr. "You eat a little more. I'm going to go speak with Kallie and then I'll be back to take you home."

B'layr nodded, setting the plate in his lap and assembling a sandwich. He took a cautious bite, hoping his stomach would settle down, and waited for Jim's return.

Jim made a circuit of the room, first explaining and apologizing to Kallie and then speaking to each of the guests in turn, thanking them all for coming and promising to keep in better touch. By the time he returned to the couch, B'layr had finished the sandwich and eaten some of the fruit. Jim took the plate, nibbling on what was left as he headed for the kitchen to throw away the leftovers and deposit the plate in the sink.

"All right, it's time to go," Jim said, offering B'layr a hand to help him off the couch. As they made their way to the door, Kallie intercepted them once more.

"Thank you both for coming." She turned to the elf. "You take care of yourself, B'layr. Get some rest. I hope you'll feel better soon."

"I will," B'layr promised. "Thank you."

The couple made their way out to the truck and back to the loft. Jim steadied his partner with an arm around B'layr's waist, leading him across the large, open room and over to the stairs to their bedroom. Once upstairs, he pulled the dress off over B'layr's head, leaving the elf naked, and tucked him into bed.

"Time for you to rest." Jim said, casting a gentle smile on his lover.

The elf looked up with round, blue eyes. "Stay with me? Please?"

"I've got a few things I need to handle before I come to bed," Jim told him. "Close your eyes and rest. I'll be back in just a few minutes."

"Hurry."

Jim brushed the wild locks of hair off B'layr's forehead and bent down to give his mate a tender kiss. "Go to sleep, my soul." He waited until B'layr's eyes had drifted shut, and then went downstairs. When he returned fifteen minutes later, B'layr was asleep.

Quietly, Jim stripped and climbed into the bed, trying not to disturb his lover. B'layr rolled over, facing Jim, and snuggled into the welcoming embrace with a soft snuffle. Jim smiled. Even in his sleep, B'layr knew when his mate was nearby and took advantage of the extra warmth. Jim closed his eyes, contented, and slept.

~oO0Oo~

"How are you feeling?" Jim asked the next morning as B'layr came out of the bathroom, fresh from his shower and wearing Jim's robe.

"Much better, thank you. I just need to slow down a little, take things easy."

"In that case, why don't you stay home today and watch some TV, or read?" Jim suggested. "I was thinking of visiting Stevie to see if we can get the trust fund straightened out so that he can take over for his dad."

"Actually, I would like to spend some time at Rainier," B'layr said, toweling his hair dry. "It is difficult for me to work on my paper back home. There are too many interruptions with someone needing the Shaman or Healer. Many in the tribe are capable healers and can do what is needed while I am gone, but if I am there, it is me they want."

"I wondered if you were ever going to get busy on that thesis," Jim commented. "It seems that every time you sit down to write, something comes up."

"Exactly. I could work on it here, but if I were at the university, I'd have a library full of research material as well." B'layr looked up at his concerned mate. "I promise to take it easy. You may come by when you are finished with Stevie, and we can have dinner together."

"How long do you think it would take you to finish if we stayed in Cascade so that you could work?" Jim asked.

B'layr thought about it for a minute before cautiously replying. "Perhaps two to three months, if I devote my days to the work."

"Can you stay away from the tribe that long? After all, you are the official Shaman and Healer."

"We would need to send word to K'tiri, so that she knows we are not returning right away," B'layr mused. "Otherwise, she or L'anin would contact us if my services were urgently needed. As I said, there are many skilled healers and herbalists in the tribe quite capable of handling the majority of injuries or illnesses."

"I'll talk to Stevie about sending the helicopter to the clearing with the message."

"That would not be necessary. Besides," said B'layr, "many of the People are afraid of the iron bird, as they call it. I will find a messenger."

"How...?"

B'layr walked into the kitchen to find the notepad they used to jot down their grocery list and wrote a short note to K'tiri, telling her of their plans. He folded and rolled the note, and grabbed a piece of string from the drawer. "Like this."

Walking over to the balcony, B'layr opened the doors. Going outside, he made a remarkable noise in his throat that sounded almost exactly like the cooing of a pigeon. Soon, a brown and white bird landed on the railing, cocking its head and eyeing the elf.

Jim watched with amazement as B'layr wrapped the note around the pigeon's leg and tied it on with the string. The elf stroked the bird, making more of the strange noises, then stepped back as it took flight, headed east toward the mountains.

"What did you just do?" Jim asked, coming to stand on the balcony and wrapping an arm around B'layr's waist. "That was incredible!"

"I told the pigeon where to go. He will find the tribe and the message will be given to K'tiri."

Jim shook his head and smiled. "You continue to amaze me, even after more than fifty years."

B'layr turned to face his mate, wrapping his arms around Jim's waist and tipping his head back to smile up at his lover. "It is what keeps us together—the mystery..." Pressing his body against Jim, he rubbed his groin against his mate's thigh. "...And the familiar."

"I swear, Imp, you get hornier than usual when you're pregnant," Jim chuckled.

"I cannot help it; it is a part of my biology." With a wicked grin and very little notice, B'layr coiled and sprang, wrapping strong legs around Jim's waist and twining his arms around Jim's neck. The robe fell away from his lower body, revealing the rock-hard arousal of his cock.

Jim groaned. The scent of pre-come wafted to his nostrils, making his body react in kind. "I guess we're not going anywhere until we take care of this, huh?"

"It will give me something by which to remember you for the rest of the day," B'layr said, his voice full of innocent coquetry.

"Oh, I'll make sure you remember it," Jim promised, making his way up to their bedroom with his mate clinging to him like a leech.

B'layr dropped to the bed as soon as they reached it, letting the robe slip off his shoulders to reveal the gleaming porcelain of his skin and the soft mat of hair on his chest. In direct contrast to his overall paleness was the thick, blood-darkened column of his penis, jutting out from a tangle of black curls.

Jim slipped out of his boxers to join B'layr on the bed. He flattened his mate, lying on top of the smaller body and kissing B'layr until the elf was breathless.

"I-I need you in me," B'layr panted. "Please, Jim." He wriggled out from under his mate and turned over, coming up on his hands and knees.

"What? No foreplay?" Jim teased, not altogether disappointed as he looked at the tempting ass presented to him. B'layr's opening had dilated and the mating scent called to the Sentry with a strength he found he couldn't resist.

Kneeling behind his lover, Jim positioned himself and then plunged inside, thrusting hard and fast as the elven pheromones assaulted his senses. Reaching beneath the sweating body, Jim wrapped his fingers around the hard column of flesh and stroked in counterpoint to his thrusting.

B'layr grunted beneath the assault, wanting—needing—to be claimed by his mate. His body rocked to the rhythm of penetration, giving himself over completely to his lover. His muscles coiled tighter in preparation for release. When it came, both men cried out in unison, collapsing onto the bed as the lethargy of completion claimed them.

"God, B'layr!" Jim whimpered softly. "All I want to do now is pull up the blankets and go back to sleep."

"It was a good joining," B'layr sighed, a smile curving his lips. "But we both have things that must be done." He curled onto his side and then slowly sat up. "Come, I need to shower again. You will wash my back."

Jim groaned and rose to follow his mate.

~oO0Oo~

An hour later, Jim pulled into the faculty parking lot of Rainier University to drop B'layr off for the day. "You've got the cell phone," Jim said. "Don't forget to use it if you need me. I'll be working with Stevie until later this afternoon."

"I will be fine," B'layr said, sliding off the seat and onto the blacktop of the parking lot. "I will see you in time for dinner. Drive carefully."

"Don't I always?" asked Jim with a playful grin.

B'layr grimaced and slammed the car door shut, waving as he watched Jim drive off. Turning toward the campus, he made his way to Hargrove Hall and to the office of his current faculty advisor, Carl Sanchez.

"Professor Sanchez?"

The professor looked up from the papers he had been studying. "Yes? May I help you?"

"I'm sorry, I don't have an appointment," B'layr apologized. "I'm B'layr Ellison, one of your doctoral candidates."

"Oh, B'layr! Do come in! It's good to meet with you in person. Have a seat." Sanchez shuffled some papers and cleared a spot on his desk, then spent a few seconds typing something into his computer and studying the screen. "I see you're ABD—having completed all the required classes. You only need to turn in your dissertation and defend it to receive your degree." He studied the screen a while longer. "But it seems you've taken a bit of a break in your career. Is that why you're here?"

"Yes, sir," B'layr replied, nodding. "I am back in Cascade and hope to stay long enough to finish writing my thesis. Is it possible to find some space here where I could work?"

"We're pretty booked up for office space," Sanchez said, thinking over the request. "If you wouldn't mind being a little crowded, there's a desk and some file cabinets in Artifact Storage Room 3. You could have that space."

"I would very much appreciate that. Thank you," said B'layr. "Is there any chance of finding a research assistant? I am fine for now, but I can foresee needing the help."

"I'll see what I can do," Sanchez promised. "Would you like me to show you to your 'office'?"

B'layr nodded. "Yes, thank you, if you have the time."

Sanchez led the way through the halls and down to the basement of the building. "I apologize for the fact that you won't have any windows. On the other hand, you won't have many interruptions here, either."

"The peace and quiet is what I need. I could not get enough of it at home," B'layr told the professor.

"I'll let you get settled, then," said Sanchez. "We'll set up a schedule for regular meetings to discuss your progress. How does that sound?"

"It is a good plan," B'layr agreed. "Thank you, Professor Sanchez."

"Call me Carl," Sanchez offered. "I think we're going to become close over the next few months."

"Indeed, we shall." B'layr set his backpack on the desk and looked around the room. "I have some work to do."

"I'll let you be at it, then," the professor said. "Good luck, B'layr."

"Thank you."

Once he was alone, B'layr began to clean and organize the small space, decorating his work area with some of the artifacts he found stored in the room. Finally satisfied, he pulled out his laptop and set it up on the desk, pulling up the first chapter of his dissertation for review. He was busy organizing his notes and deciding what reference materials he might need when there was a soft knock at the door.

"Come in." B'layr turned as the door opened to find a striking redhead framed in the doorway. The young woman had piercing green eyes; short-cropped, flaming red hair; and full lips curved up in a smile. Her clothes were reminiscent of the late 1960s and early '70s, like an old-fashioned hippie transported into the twenty-first century.

"Professor Sanchez mentioned you needed a research assistant?" the woman asked, stepping into the small room like she owned the place.

"Um ... yes, I do," B'layr answered, pushing away from the desk to stand and come over to shake her hand. "I just was not expecting anybody quite this soon. Professor Sanchez left here not more than a half an hour ago."

"He passed me in the hall and asked if I might be interested," the woman said. "Of course, I said yes!"

"That is great! Thank you for agreeing to help. My name is B'layr Ellison..."

"Naomi Sandburg," the woman reciprocated. "I'm here to get my bachelor's degree. I dropped out of college several years ago to see the world and study other cultures and religions. I figured it was time I came home and got back to work."

"Are you studying anthropology?" asked B'layr. "That is my general field of study."

"Oh, yes! And it's fascinating, isn't it? So many cultures, so many different ways of looking at life and the world." Naomi paused to look around. "So, what is it that you're working on?"

"The exact subject of my dissertation is classified for the moment," B'layr hedged. "It is between myself and Professor Sanchez—"

Naomi looked puzzled. "But if you want me to help, won't I need to know, too?"

"Not necessarily—at least not for the moment," B'layr answered. "Will that be a problem for you?"

"Oh, no! No, of course not. Just tell me what you need for me to do."

"I have been looking up materials that might be useful," said B'layr, reaching for a slip of paper lying on the desk. "Here is a list of books and research papers from the library that I think might be helpful. Could you go find them for me while I finish settling in here?"

"Sure; I'd be happy to!" Naomi said, plucking the list from B'layr's fingers and running her eyes down the list. "There are a lot of things here. It might take me a while."

"That is fine. I am in no big hurry."

"All right, then!" Naomi said, walking through the door and out into the hallway. "It was nice meeting you, B'layr!" She tossed the words over her shoulder as she headed for the stairs.

B'layr grinned and shook his head as he closed the door behind her. It was good to have help, but this young lady looked like she was going to be a handful all by herself. He made his way back over to his desk and opened his word processor, bringing up a document entitled "The Elves of the Maya."

The introductory chapter was already written, and B'layr had outlined the main body of his thesis. Now all that he needed to do was verify some facts and arrange his copious notes into an academic paper. Between the writing and the reviews, he estimated it would take two to three months of long days to get the paper done and ready to present. What he hadn't figured out yet was how to write the paper—a story of the journey of elves to the New World—without actually revealing the presence of his people to the world at large. Until he had that figured out, his paper would be liberally spotted with references to his race—a potential hotspot for trouble, if word spread beyond Carl Sanchez and B'layr's tiny office.

It was over an hour later before Naomi showed up again, her arms brimming with the requested books. "I'm sorry. I couldn't find everything right now. I have a class in ten minutes, so I thought I'd bring you what I have."

"That will do," B'layr said, giving his assistant a smile. "You can find the rest for me when you have some free time."

"I have classes all afternoon," said Naomi, frowning and biting at her lower lip. "I'm sorry."

"Do not let it bother you," B'layr assured her. "I have more than enough to keep me busy the rest of the day. You can look for the other research materials tomorrow."

"Oh, no! I want to get them for you today!" Naomi insisted.

"That will not be necessary, really," said B'layr. "Hurry now. You must get to your class."

"Yes," Naomi replied, sighing. "All right. But I'll get you the rest of the stuff first thing in the morning."

"That will be fine. Thank you."

B'layr sighed with relief when his energetic assistant was finally gone. He rested a hand over the mound of his belly and wished that Jim were there to snuggle against. It would be so nice to rest his head against the strong chest of his mate and just close his eyes for a few moments and sleep. He pulled a thermos of coffee from his backpack and poured himself a cup. It was going to be a long day.

~oO0Oo~

"How'd your day go?" Jim asked as B'layr climbed into the truck, bone weary after a full day of research and writing.

"It went well." B'layr let a sigh escape before continuing. "I have an assistant, Naomi Sandburg. She's an anthropology student that Sanchez assigned to helped me."

"That's good," Jim approved. "At least that way, you don't have to be up and running around so much. You need to take it easy, you know. You're not the young pup you were when K'tiri and T'erin were born."

"And I feel it in every muscle," said B'layr, stretching as much as he could in the confines of the truck. "Perhaps getting up and doing some of the footwork myself might not have been a bad idea."

"I don't want you taking any chances with this pregnancy," Jim insisted. "You had a really rough time during your others, and I want to make sure you don't have any complications this time."

"I am fine, my heart," B'layr assured him. "Only a little weary. Otherwise, I feel much better than I have during some of my other Bearings."

"How would you like to eat out tonight? That way we wouldn't have to cook or clean up afterward. I know a great Thai place near here," suggested Jim.

B'layr nodded. "That actually sounds good. Thank you."

Jim turned to give his mate a concerned glance. "Are you sure you feel up to it? You look a little pale. We could get take-out and go home to eat."

"Either is fine. I think all I need is a small meal and some rest. It has been a long time since I last devoted substantial energy to academics."

"Here we are," said Jim, pulling into the parking lot of the restaurant. "You want to wait in the car while I get a take-out order?"

B'layr unfastened his seat belt and unlocked his door. "I think I would rather eat here, and then go home to sleep."

Jim quickly slipped out of the truck and hurried around to the passenger side to assist B'layr. The elf didn't argue as his mate slipped an arm around his waist to steady him.

They went inside and were seated at a booth. Once their order was taken and B'layr had a cup of tea in front of him, they began to relax. B'layr brought the cup to his lips and smiled through the rising steam at Jim. After a brief sip of the hot liquid, he spoke.

"And how was your day? Did you get the trust straightened out with Stevie?"

Jim nodded. "But there's still some things that need doing. For one thing, I plan to set up an endowment to cover all of Kallie's needs, and set some money aside for the education of her grandchildren."

"I am sure she will appreciate your thoughtfulness," said B'layr. "But we have long lives ahead of us still ... do you have enough money in the trust to cover your needs as well?"

"More than enough," Jim told him. "Sweetheart, there is over a hundred million in that account—and it continues to compound interest at an enormous rate. Steven was a very savvy investor, and our nephew appears to have the same business sense as his father."

"That is good, then." B'layr paused and looked up as their food was brought to the table. He picked up his chopsticks and picked through the food on his plate.

"What's the matter, I thought you were hungry?" Jim watched as the elf took a small bite of his chicken in peanut sauce.

"I am; I am just a little tired. Do not worry about me, my heart."

"Maybe I should take you in to the doctor while we're here. We could go to that private clinic that treated you during your last pregnancy," Jim suggested.

"The one that took my womb without my knowledge?" B'layr said bitterly.

"God, Sweetheart! You know I had to make that decision in order to save your life!"

"I know. I do know that," said B'layr. "But I am the Healer here; I am the Shaman. All I need is some rest."

"Maybe you should stay home tomorrow; sleep in," said Jim, reaching across the table to cover one of B'layr's hands with his.

"We shall see, all right? Let us finish our meal so that we may go home." B'layr turned his attention to his food, picking through it and eating very lightly.

Jim finished his plate and when the waitress came back, asked to have the remainder of B'layr's meal put in a take-out box. He wrapped an arm around the elf's waist once more and supported him back out to the truck.

B'layr was asleep before Jim pulled into the parking lot on Prospect Street.

~oO0Oo~

Two months passed quickly, and with Naomi's help and Professor Sanchez's guidance, B'layr was nearing the end of the first draft of his dissertation. He had taken to wearing maternity jeans with a stretch front panel and an over-large, long-sleeved, plaid flannel shirt to hide his growing bulge. He now sat in Professor Sanchez's office, discussing what might be done to shield the true identity of the people he was writing about.

"I am not certain that my paper is publishable," B'layr argued. "I cannot allow the existence of elves to be known."

"I understand your concern," the professor said, "but if you don't publish, you won't be able to get your degree. I thought that was the whole point of this exercise."

"Not the whole point, Carl," B'layr explained. "Mostly, I was doing this for myself and my People—a history of how we came to this place. Using it to get my doctorate degree was just a bonus. Frankly, where I live, the titles and acknowledgments of this world mean little."

"But you've been one of our best students..." Sanchez argued. "It would seem a shame if you couldn't defend your thesis."

"I have been one of your best students for nearly fifty years," B'layr pointed out. "It has been difficult enough forging my official school records to bring that down to a mere eight years. I do not think more would be possible."

"I could go to the Dean and request a closed defense. No one but those judging your paper would know." Sanchez suggested. "If I have to, I could go to the Chancellor with my request."

"That would still mean at least five more people knowing the contents of my paper," reasoned B'layr. "I am not convinced that is wise. I should discuss it with the leaders of my Tribe first."

"How near are you to finished?"

B'layr smiled. "All I need to write is the closing chapter. After that, the only thing I would need is to have someone read through it and present me with any suggestions for clarification or improvement. I would prefer that task fall to you, so as to contain the contents of the paper to as few people as possible."

"Have you managed to keep the secret from your assistant?"

"Naomi?" B'layr chuckled. "Yes, but not without a great deal of difficulty. That women is more curious than an entire litter of kittens."

Sanchez sighed. "Well, if I can't convince you otherwise ... finish your paper and print out a copy. I'll go over it for you."

"Thank you." B'layr pushed back his chair to stand just as Jim appeared in the doorway.

"All done?"

"Yes, we are finished." B'layr grabbed his coat from the rack and turned back to the professor. "I appreciate your assistance, Carl. I will get the draft to you in the morning."

"Take care, B'layr. Good to see you again, Jim." Sanchez waved at the departing couple.

"Good to see you, too, Professor." Jim smiled and bundled his mate out of the room and out to the parking lot where the truck waited.

"Looks like we're going to be able to go back to the forest pretty soon, huh?" Jim commented, climbing in behind the wheel.

"That is my hope and intention," said B'layr, sliding in beside him. He turned a wicked grin on his mate. "You know, I feel like celebrating. I could use a little unwinding after all the work I've put in on this paper."

Jim's grin echoed that of his mate's. There had been an abnormally long period of abstinence while B'layr worked feverishly to finish his dissertation. The elf would usually come home too tired to do more than eat and fall asleep. So obvious an offer was hard to refuse, and Jim was in no mood to try.

When they arrived home, it was all either of them could do to keep their clothes on until the loft door was shut and locked behind them. By the time they reached the bedroom, both man and elf were naked.

B'layr sprawled on the bed, one hand rubbing the mound of his belly, the other stroking his leaking cock. "I need you, my heart. I want to claim you tonight."

The thought of his pregnant mate mounting him, thrusting into him, made Jim's heart beat faster. His cock pulsed in a matching rhythm, full and hard and ready. "My soul..." he gasped as he crawled onto the bed, hovering over the gleaming body of his mate.

Reaching up with both hands to gently clasp his lover's face, B'layr pulled Jim down into an ardent kiss. Jim felt the fire of passion burn through him as B'layr's mouth opened, his tongue meeting Jim's in a heated dance for dominance. Only when their need for life-giving oxygen became desperate did the two lovers part.

Jim tangled his fingers in the silken coils of the elf's hair as he began to kiss his way down the sweat-glistened body. B'layr groaned and arched into the warm, wet assault as Jim's teeth clasped the hardened nub of a nipple and bit down lightly before settling in to suckle.

B'layr strained to reach Jim's cock, to give back some of the incredible sensations that were torturing his body. With a wet pop, Jim released the nipple he had been tormenting and moved to lick and tease its twin. The movement freed the elf's arm and he clasped strong fingers around the hard shaft of his mate's penis.

Groaning, Jim sat up on B'layr's lap, letting his lover tease and stroke his cock. He felt a shudder run through his body and gently pulled himself out of his soulmate's grasp before he came prematurely. Moving further down B'layr's body, Jim let his hands rest to either side of the swollen belly. Sensitive fingers pressed and moved over the dome of flesh, and a beatific smile curved his lips.

"What is it, my heart? Do you feel our child, the product of our joining?"

"He's perfect," Jim sighed. "Ten fingers and ten toes ... and two very pointed ears."

B'layr laughed. "Even you could not discern that at this stage. You are pulling my leg."

"That's not all I'd like to pull," Jim growled, moving lower to lick the quivering shaft of his lover's penis.

White knuckles gripped the sheets as B'layr struggled to hold back the orgasm that threatened to overwhelm him. "J'anin," he gasped. "It is time. Please, my heart!"

Jim backed off and offered his hands to help his lover sit up. B'layr struggled into a sitting position and then onto his hands and knees to crawl around behind his lover. Jim watched his graceful soulmate make his way across the bed. The sight of the slender body, gravid with their child, was almost enough to push him those last millimeters to the brink of his orgasm. It took what remained of his discipline to hold on.

B'layr positioned himself behind Jim, who had gotten to his hands and knees with great effort, straining to contain his release, and placed his hands on his lover's ass. Jim groaned as the long fingers parted his rounded cheeks, exposing the small pucker. A light puff of warm air caused the muscle to tighten, and then loosen almost imperceptibly.

"I must prepare you," B'layr said, blowing another puff of air before licking his way from Jim's balls to his anus. "It has been some time since you were the one being claimed."

"You talk too much," Jim growled. "Get busy while I still have some control left."

B'layr reached beneath Jim's body to stroke the heavy, leaking cock. "Perhaps it would be better if you let go," he suggested, leaning down to pepper kisses up and down Jim's spine as he continued to milk the pulsing organ between his soulmate's legs.

"Oh, God ... B'lllllayrrrr!" Jim's whole body stiffened for a moment before his cock throbbed and finally released, sending jets of semen onto the sheets. His arms nearly gave out as he struggled against the force of his climax.

"That is much better." B'layr's voice came softly from above, as a strong, square hand appeared to coat its fingers with the come. "Now you are loose, ready for me." A slick finger probed at Jim's anus, parting the muscle to slip inside. A second finger followed promptly, taking advantage of the post-coital relaxation.

"Just get on with it!" Jim's voice was rough with need.

"I do not wish for you to require my abilities as Healer. It will not be long."

Jim groaned and let his head drop to the mattress, resigned to waiting.

After what seemed an eternity to the expectant Sentry, the elf finally deemed him prepared. Jim felt the head of B'layr's cock press against his ass, slowly dilating the muscle and slipping inside.

"Ah, God, Imp...." Jim groaned as B'layr began to thrust gently. "Stopping teasing!"

B'layr continued his agonizingly slow rhythm, bending over Jim's back to stroke and kiss the sweat-slicked skin. "You are so good, my heart. I do not wish to rush." He reached down to grab Jim's lax penis, stroking the organ with his fingers until it began to fill once more.

As Jim's arousal began to peak for a second time, B'layr picked up his pace, thrusting fast and hard into the willing body. Gripping Jim's hips, the elf pounded deep, angling to hit the sweet spot that his lover had taught him.

Jim howled as the solid cock claiming him brushed his prostate, his own penis once again as hard as a steel shaft and weeping with pre-come.

B'layr's breath was coming in rapid pants and his fluid motions were becoming erratic as his orgasm rose to claim him. With a final effort, he took Jim's cock, determined to bring them together. As his climax flowed through him, B'layr felt the tightening of Jim's muscles as his lover came for a second time, squeezing the last of the come from B'layr's cock.

Exhausted, the elf collapsed across Jim's back, propelling both of them onto the mattress in a sweaty heap. Jim rolled out from under B'layr, turning his mate onto his side and brushing the long strands of hair away from the damp forehead. Leaning in, Jim pressed a gentle kiss to the full lips.

"That was incredible, Sweetheart," Jim whispered. "I love you so much."

"And I love you, my heart." B'layr smiled up at Jim, drained but satisfied.

Jim pulled the blankets up over their cooling bodies and pulled B'layr against him. "Sleep, my soul." The elf closed his eyes, content.

~oO0Oo~

Rainier University, the next day:

"How's it going?" Jim walked up behind B'layr and began massaging the elf's shoulders.

"Just another minute," B'layr replied, sounding distracted. His attention was focused on the bright computer screen as he diligently tapped at the tiny keys. 'THE END', he typed and looked up at his mate. "That is it. Now I just need to get the draft to Carl for proofing."

"And what next?" Jim bent down to place a warm kiss against B'layr's temple as he scanned the closing paragraph of the dissertation.

"Then we wait. While Professor Sanchez reads the draft, I will see if there is any way I can disguise the identity of the elves and still hold true to the premise of my paper. I do not think that there will be a way around it, though." B'layr sighed.

"What if there's not?"

"Then I will not be able to publish or defend my thesis, and I will not receive my degree," B'layr told him.

"That's not acceptable, after all the work you've put into this!" Jim exclaimed. "You've got to get your doctorate!"

"What does a piece of paper really matter, my heart?" B'layr asked, tilting his head up to look at Jim. "I am already Shaman and Healer of the Wolf Tribe. As such, I technically outrank the Chieftess. A piece of paper means nothing in the forest."

"Why did you go to all this trouble, then?"

B'layr smiled up at Jim. "Because I think it is important that our people have an accurate record; a history of their coming to this place. I have accomplished that, and it is enough."

"In that case, shut that thing down and let's go out and get some dinner. I'm starved!" Jim grabbed his coat and B'layr's from the coat rack and handed the elf his.

"Just one more thing—" B'layr addressed the email and hit "send," transporting a copy of the dissertation up to the third floor office of Carl Sanchez. He shut down the computer and took his coat, slipping into it as he followed Jim to the door.

After a satisfying meal at a local Cuban restaurant, Jim turned the truck toward Prospect Street. It was obvious that B'layr was tired after a long day at the university and he wanted to get the elf home and out of the cold, February winds.

As soon as they entered the loft, B'layr gathered a few pieces of wood from the pile and headed to the fireplace to start the blaze. Hunkering down in front of the warmth, he rubbed his hands together and shivered. Jim came to stand behind him, resting his hands on the broad shoulders that were still covered by B'layr's heavy, winter coat.

"Are you all right?" Jim asked softly, bending down to whisper in B'layr's ear.

The elf nodded and turned to smile up at Jim. "I am fine, my heart. Just cold."

"Think how much worse it would be up on the mountain," Jim reminded him. "They must be pretty much socked into the long houses by now."

"I worry about them," said B'layr, frowning. "There has been no word for quite some time and we have been away long."

A light tapping at the balcony windows drew the attention of both man and elf. "What was that?" B'layr asked, rising to walk over to the closed doors.

Jim followed him, holding B'layr back. "It's probably nothing. Just some debris being blown against the glass by the wind."

The tapping came again. "No," B'layr argued. "It is too regular to be the wind." He parted the blinds to look out onto the dark balcony. A black bird waited on the floor near the door. As B'layr watched, it tapped the glass again. "It is a messenger raven!" he said, moving to unlock the door. As soon as he opened it, the bird flew inside, circling the loft.

B'layr held out his arm and the raven came to rest just above his wrist. The elf unfastened the message pouch attached to the bird's leg before releasing the raven back outdoors.

"What does it say?" Jim asked, coming to stand close behind B'layr.

B'layr studied the cryptic note, written in elven script. "It is from L'anin. A'mara's condition worsens and he is concerned for his soulmate's pregnancy. He wishes for us to return."

"But your paper—"

"It will keep," B'layr assured his mate. "Professor Sanchez still must read it through and make suggestions for revisions. There is time."

"So you want to go back? To the mountain? Now?"

B'layr nodded. "My skills as Healer are needed. I feared A'mara would need me before his pregnancy's end. He is old for a first-time Bearer, and his womb is weak."

"He's only a couple of years older than you," Jim said, concern coloring his voice. The Sentry reached out to rest a hand on B'layr's belly, feeling the life that grew within.

B'layr lowered his hand to rest on top of Jim's. "Do not fear for me, my heart. My pregnancy progresses well, as you know. I am an experienced Bearer."

"Not with this womb," Jim reminded him.

"J'anin..." B'layr sighed and smiled. "The Ancients healed me, gave me back the ability to bear. I am strong and fit; our child is strong. It is A'mara for whom we must fear."

"Would you like for me to call Stevie about using the helicopter to get there?" Jim asked.

B'layr relaxed, the tension draining from his body. "Would you? Please? A'mara is my oldest and dearest friend. I wish to help."

"All right, but in a minute," said Jim, walking over to the couch to grab a handful of pillows. Coming back to the fireplace, he dropped the cushions onto the floor. "Let's get you out of this," he suggested, slipping the heavy coat from his mate's slender body. He helped lower B'layr to the pillows and then grabbed the throw from the back of the couch and wrapped it around the elf's shoulders. Once his mate was comfortably ensconced by the fire, Jim went to hang up the coat and call his nephew.

"Stevie? Yeah, this is Jim. Look, we need the helicopter. B'layr needs to make a trip back to the mountain."

B'layr sat by the fire, warming himself, as he listened to his mate explain the circumstances of their need. When Jim finally hung up, the elf looked up expectantly. "Well? What did he say?"

"He'd be happy to fly us out there, but because of the weather conditions, it will have to wait until morning."

"I understand," said B'layr, nodding. "It is not safe to fly at night into a mountain blizzard."

Jim lowered himself to the cushions next to his mate and took an end of the afghan, wrapping it around his shoulders and snuggling next to B'layr. "You don't need to worry. Stevie will get us there tomorrow."

B'layr lowered his head to rest on Jim's shoulder. "I know I should not worry, but I cannot help it. I feel that A'mara needs me to be there with him. L'anin would not have sent the raven unless the need was great." Lapsing into silence, the elf stared into the flickering flames and sighed.

Jim stroked the long hair with a soothing rhythm, comforting his fretful soulmate. The long day had taken its toll on the elf, and B'layr soon fell into a restless sleep. Jim lowered his mate to the cushions and stretched out beside him, covering them both with the woolen afghan. He found sleep elusive, but eventually even the Sentry succumbed to the lure of dreams.

~oO0Oo~

B'layr huddled close to Jim as the helicopter fought its way through the gusty winds to the landing site on the mountain. Thankfully, the snow had stopped, and Steve had only the wind with which to contend. The huge metal bird settled into the soft powder snow and Jim jumped out, reaching a hand back to help his mate down. The noise of the rotors prevented speech, so Jim saluted his nephew in thanks and waved the helicopter off.

Man and elf braved the downwash of the rotors and the snow they stirred up to watch their transport fly away, back to the relative calm of Cascade. Wrapping an arm around B'layr's shoulders, Jim hustled the elf into the cover of the trees and out of the howling wind. As the pair trudged deeper into the forest, the wind died down and the snow became less deep. An hour's walk through the old growth woods brought them in sight of their cabin. B'layr sighed with relief.

"It will be good to get inside, out of the cold," the elf commented, his teeth chattering.

As they neared the cabin, the door opened and L'anin appeared. "Mother! Sire! It is good that you are back! I take it the raven got through to you?"

"Last night," B'layr confirmed, moving past his son and into the great room of the cabin. "We could not get transportation until this morning. How is A'mara?"

"Not well, I fear," L'anin replied, glancing nervously at his mate who lay moaning in the bed nearest the fireplace.

B'layr moved over to the bed, bending down so that his face was level with A'mara's. "My friend, I am here," he said softly. A'mara's eyes slowly opened to greet the Healer. A hand slipped out from beneath the covers to clasp the one B'layr offered. "Do not fear. All will be well."

A'mara nodded and a smile graced his lips. "Welcome home, Healer." The voice was whisper-soft and strained, but full of the love the elf held for his friend.

B'layr rested one hand against A'mara's forehead and burrowed the other beneath the blankets to touch the belly swollen with child. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his patient, willing the pain to cease. A golden glow warmed the areas that he touched, and A'mara fell silent, sleeping peacefully and pain-free for the first time in days.

With a heavy sigh, B'layr stood and walked over to the fireplace to try and chase away the chill in his soul.

"Mother?" L'anin walked over and wrapped an arm around his Bearer. "A'mara, is he ... will he be all right?"

"I cannot say," B'layr answered truthfully. "His body rejects the child growing within. I do not know if there is anything I can do to save the elfling."

"But you will try?" L'anin asked, his voice desperate.

"Of course. That is why I am here." B'layr sank down into the cushions of the couch, his energy deserting him.

"Are you all right? Mother?" L'anin gently shook his Bearer, but B'layr only sighed and stared into the fire. L'anin looked up to Jim who was standing behind his mate. "Sire?"

"Your mother Bears again," Jim reminded his son. "You know that. The healing takes energy that B'layr can't really spare right now, but he will tend A'mara even if it means weakening himself."

L'anin hung his head. "I am selfish ... and sorry. I did not consider the consequences to Mother of healing A'mara."

B'layr turned his attention from the fire and laid a hand on L'anin's knee. "Do not berate yourself for caring about your soulmate and your unborn elfling. I am here now. I will do what I can. Do not look so glum." B'layr smiled at his son to take away the sting of his soulmate's words.

"While A'mara sleeps, can you fill us in on the news of the Tribe?" B'layr asked, changing the subject to something more neutral.

L'anin frowned, shaking his head. "That is probably best left up to K'tiri," he answered.

B'layr's brow crinkled with concern. "What is it that you are not telling us?"

"M'arik sows discontent among the People," L'anin replied. "It is complicated; I will let K'tiri tell the tale."

"It's probably nothing to worry about," Jim interjected, massaging B'layr's tense shoulders. "You know how people get when they're shut up in close quarters. The Cold Time has always been hard on the elves."

"I am afraid this is more, Sire," said L'anin. "M'arik is the head instigator of a group that resents diluting the elven line with human genes."

B'layr's anger flared. "That is ridiculous! If not for your father, we would have no Sentries, no one to protect the Tribes."

"As I said, it is complicated," L'anin replied. "Let us not speak of it now."

"I think that's a good idea," Jim agreed. He bent down to place a kiss on top of his soulmate's head. "Maybe you should lie down and take a nap," he suggested. "It's been a long morning, and you've already used healing energy on A'mara."

B'layr nodded. "You are right, I am a bit tired."

Jim came around to the front of the couch and offered his hands to help B'layr stand. Once the elf was on his feet, Jim began to lead him across the room toward the unoccupied bed.

"No ... by the fire," B'layr insisted.

"I am sorry we used your bed, Mother," L'anin apologized. "A'mara was cold, and you were not here. We did not think you would mind."

"I do not," B'layr agreed. "But I, too, need to sleep near the fire." He wiggled his way out of Jim's loose grasp and walked over to the queen-sized bed in the corner. He began stripping his clothing, letting it lay where it dropped. Once naked, he climbed under the pile of blankets next to A'mara and snuggled down.

Jim just shook his head and smiled. "If I live to be a thousand, I'll never understand your mother," he said to L'anin.

The younger elf grinned. "May I offer you something to eat, Sire? It is nearing the time of your mid-day meal."

A rumble from Jim's stomach brought smiles to both their faces. "I guess the answer to that question is yes," said Jim. "Whatever you have is fine."

"I have some venison stew left from yesterday's meal," L'anin suggested. "I'll heat some up for you." He opened the door to a small, uninsulated room that served as a refrigerator during the cold winter months and pulled out a cooking pot with the stew. He hung the pot over the fire and went to get a bowl and spoon for his father.

A few minutes later they were settled at the table, with Jim enjoying the rich flavors of the thick, meaty soup. "A'mara has told me stories from the days of his youth," L'anin said, grinning. "He told me that he and Mother were considered a pair-bond."

Jim looked up from his meal. "Pair-bond?"

"A sexually monogamous, unbonded couple," L'anin explained. "They grew up together, and both assumed that when they reached their sexual maturity, they would become soulmates."

"But it didn't happen." It was not a question. Jim knew that before A'mara and L'anin bonded, it was believed there could be only one soul bond per lifetime.

"No, it did not. A'mara matured nearly two years earlier than Mother, and found himself drawn to L'nati, his destined soulmate."

"That must have upset B'layr," said Jim.

"Not as much as you might think," L'anin replied. "Mother was happy for his friend and wished them both a bountiful womb. But for some reason, neither could get pregnant, although they tried many times. There have been rare cases where a soulmated couple cannot reproduce, but it was unheard of in the Wolf Tribe." L'anin stopped long enough to refill Jim's bowl. "The miracle finally happened after nearly twenty Turns of trying. Then the Great Sickness came. L'nati was in his third quarter of pregnancy when he fell ill and died. Even the Healer K'tan could not save him."

"When I first came to the forest to live, A'mara was quiet and withdrawn," Jim reflected. "His only real friend seemed to be B'layr."

"A'mara helped raise me," L'anin said. "While he and L'nati struggled to produce an elfling, Mother came back to the forest with babe in arms. Because B'layr was alone, A'mara stepped in to assist. He and L'nati were like my own parents." The elf paused and looked up, frowning. "I am sorry, Sire. Please do not be upset."

"I'm the one who should be apologizing," said Jim. "I let my job and my life in the city become more important than my family. B'layr begged me to come live in the forest, but back then, I just couldn't."

"And he could not abide the city," L'anin filled in when Jim fell silent.

"I should have been there for him ... for you."

"You have been here for us for twenty-seven Turns of Seasons," L'anin pointed out. "You brought Sentries back to the Tribe, and you came to be a Sentry yourself. It is hard to give up what you know, who you think you are. You should not feel ashamed."

"That doesn't excuse it," Jim said bitterly.

L'anin smiled softly and tilted his head toward the bed where the two pregnant elves slept. "Look at them. They are content with their lives. B'layr once again carries your seed, and he does it joyfully. No one resents the time you were separated, but everyone rejoices that you came home to us."

"Not everyone, apparently," said Jim gruffly.

"M'arik has always been a troublemaker," L'anin spat. "Pay him no heed. Without the human seed, the Gift of the Sentries would have been lost to elvenkind forever. M'arik is of no consequence."

"Maybe I should have a word with him," Jim said, considering the possibility. He finished the last of his stew and pushed the bowl away.

L'anin reached out to press Jim's hands to the table. "Do not go. Wait for K'tiri to come speak with you. I am sure that Mother would want to know what is conspiring as well."

Jim nodded slowly. "You're right. B'layr would want to know what's going on. Just how long has M'arik been stirring up trouble, anyhow?"

L'anin chewed his lip in thought. "We first smelled the scheming in the wind a bit over a full moon ago, but I think the conspiracy had been growing long before that."

"And I used to think this was such a paradise compared to Cascade." Jim sighed.

"It was," L'anin agreed grimly.

~oO0Oo~

"You bring honor to the tribe, Mother," K'tiri said, resting her hand over the swollen belly of her Bearer. "How goes the pregnancy?"

"I am well," B'layr answered. "The child stirs within. J'anin says he is large for his age; a strong elfling—an asset to the Tribe."

"I am truly glad," replied the Tribe's Chieftess. "Your former pregnancies were not without travail. You deserve an easy Bearing. Do you desire a Blessing from the Tribe?"

B'layr shook his head. "I need only the Blessing of he who sired the life I carry." He glanced over at Jim with a twinkle in his eye.

"You might not be so anxious after you hear what our daughter has to say," Jim announced to his mate.

K'tiri pursed her lips. "It is true. There is dissention within the Tribe."

"Who? What?" B'layr's eyes grew round and he glanced around the small circle of his family. "What is going on?"

"It is M'arik," K'tiri said, her lip curled in disgust. "He has always whispered behind our backs, but now he finds those who share his views."

"And what views are those?" B'layr asked.

K'tiri snorted. "He believes the elfin line has been diluted by the coming of J'anin and the human seed."

"But that is ridiculous!" B'layr blurted. "Without J'anin, we would have no Sentries. The Tribe would have died of starvation during the Deep Cold Time twenty Turns ago!"

"M'arik and his followers believe the elves have been weakened, not strengthened," K'tiri explained. "He says our life span has decreased as a result."

"Our life span decreased as a result of losing the Sentries!" B'layr argued. "The Ancients never lost their Sentries, and their life spans are four to five times longer than ours! We separated from the Elders over five generations ago. In the centuries that followed, we lost our Way and many of the Gifts that the Ancients still possess."

"Like the power to heal?" Jim suggested.

"Yes." B'layr nodded in agreement. "That and the Sentries, until you found me in the forest and rescued me."

"M'arik disapproves of me," K'tiri interjected. "He points to the female elves as proof that the line has been diluted."

"That's patently ridiculous," Jim growled. "The combined Tribes have flourished under your leadership."

"But some do not believe I am the fulfillment of the prophecy," K'tiri sighed. "There are whispers of a conspiracy to make a full-blooded elf Chieftain again."

"And who would that be?" asked B'layr, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he answered his own query. "M'arik?"

"It is unfortunate, but M'arik has many who agree with him," L'anin interjected. "He has a persuasive personality. During the confinement of the Cold Time, many are bored and easily swayed."

"Then we'll just have to sway them back!" Jim countered, thumping the table with his fist.

"Nothing has been said publicly yet," K'tiri reminded them. "Just one more moon, and it will be spring. Once the elves can resume their normal routines, the muttering may cease."

"And you want to take that chance?" asked Jim.

"Better than to create open conflict while we spend the winter days in confinement," replied K'tiri.

"I agree with our daughter," said B'layr. "There is no reason to go stirring the pot just yet. There has been no uprising, and I will have my hands full here, treating A'mara. To have knowledge is to be forewarned. We should keep watch on the situation, but take no action just yet."

A rustling from the corner of the room attracted the small group's attention.

"A'mara! You should be in bed!" B'layr jumped up as quickly as he was able and hurried across the room to his friend's side.

"I have had enough of bed for the time being," A'mara argued. "I would like to sit by the fire."

L'anin appeared at his mate's side, and together with B'layr, they helped A'mara over to the couch.

"This is much better," the pregnant elf sighed. "I have been too sick to care, but since you have come—" A'mara turned to B'layr, who had seated himself next to his friend. "Since you have come, I am stronger."

"It is the Ancients' magic," B'layr explained. "I do not yet fully understand how it works, but somehow, it does."

"It does not matter how," A'mara said, clasping B'layr's hand and squeezing. "All that matters is that it does, and I am stronger for it."

"I need control," B'layr argued. "I cannot be a successful Healer until I can control the power, call on its full strength."

"You are the strongest Healer to grace the Tribes since the Crossing," A'mara exclaimed. "There are rumors among the People that you can bring back the dead."

"Sadly, that is not true," said B'layr, shaking his head. "I barely have control of what the Ancients imparted to me. I did not know I possessed the power until we returned home. Otherwise, I would have stayed and been properly trained."

"You could return to the Ancients, learn the control," A'mara suggested.

B'layr shook his head again. "Not while I Bear. I do not wish to be far from home when the child is born. The Ancients are powerful, but their ways are no longer our ways. I wish to give birth here, among my loved ones. Besides, I cannot leave while you still need me."

"And that will be a while yet," A'mara chuckled, resting a hand over the mound of his belly.

"You still have a half Turn to go," B'layr agreed. "And my time follows yours by more than a moon."

"Perhaps, someday...?"

"Perhaps," B'layr agreed. "But for now, I will struggle on my own. There is too much to do right here at home."

K'tiri rose and walked over to the gathering around the fireplace. "I will take my leave for now," she said. "The day has been long, and Mother and A'mara need their rest."

"Good-night, Sister." L'anin wrapped long arms around the petite Chieftess and kissed her cheek. "May the spirits guide you safely home."

Jim took his turn, embracing his daughter and thanking her for filling them in on the situation with the Tribe. He steadfastly refused to let either B'layr or A'mara rise to say good-bye, so the two elves called out their blessing and waved as K'tiri took her leave.

L'anin and Jim helped A'mara back into bed, and L'anin followed, spooning up behind his mate.

"And now it's time to get you to bed!" Jim said, coming around to help B'layr up off the couch.

B'layr rose, reluctant to leave the warmth of the fire. "I am not yet tired. I slept earlier today," the elf protested.

"Yeah, yeah...." Jim replied with a chuckle. "But you're carrying the next Ellison offspring, and I'm going to see to it that you don't overdo—especially here, where your Healing is needed."

B'layr stripped and climbed into bed, patting the mattress next to him. "Come, give me your body heat to keep me warm." When Jim slid into bed beside him, B'layr snuggled close, wrapping a strong leg over Jim's thighs and humping against the hard muscles. "I need a Blessing." The elf's voice was husky with need, his erection growing harder as he rubbed against his mate. "Bless me, my heart."

"Now?" Jim looked over his shoulder at A'mara and L'anin, sleeping in the nearby bed. "Here?"

"What better time? What better place?" B'layr reached between their bodies to grasp his mate's penis. "You want it, too."

"Oh, God ... B'layr..." Jim groaned, knowing the battle was a lost cause. His erection pulsed in the strong hand that held it, straining for release.

"We are home now," B'layr whispered, "and I wish to be Blessed." He stroked the hard shaft of his mate, feeling the throbbing of the blood in the arteries. "Please."

Jim captured the beautiful face between his palms and kissed his lover passionately. "I never could refuse you," he said when they parted. "Roll over."

B'layr let a hand trail down Jim's chest and abdomen before cupping the heavy sac of Jim's testicles and giving his straining shaft a small kiss. Then he rolled away from his mate and pushed up onto his hands and knees.

Jim hesitated a moment, knowing the position was exposed should their son or A'mara open their eyes to watch. In recent years, B'layr had become more "civilized," and Jim had easily fallen back into his old habits of wishing privacy for private acts. But this was family, and the act a Blessing of B'layr's womb. In the tradition of the elves, this was more than simply sex.

He lined himself up with B'layr's opening and began a steady, slow thrust until he was completely consumed by his lover's body. He paused, savoring the joining, until B'layr thrust back with his hips, urging Jim to move.

The couple was soon rocking to the rhythm of the pounding sex. Thrust after thrust, Jim picked up speed, sweating with the effort he was exerting, enthralled by the way B'layr's body accepted him, held him, then released him to thrust again. All concerns about an audience were ripped away as the screaming orgasm tore through his body, expelling his seed and filling his soulmate. He didn't even remember pulling B'layr down to the mattress or covering their cooling bodies, but in the morning, they awoke still joined.

~oO0Oo~

After relieving himself, B'layr began to dress, donning his heaviest clothing and the goose down jacket Jim had recently purchased for him. Pulling on wool-lined boots and tying the coat's hood tightly around his face, the elf headed for the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" Jim asked, jumping out of bed and hurrying across the room. He managed to grab B'layr's arm before his mate could open the door to the frigid winter winds.

"To the sacred pool, of course," said B'layr. "You do not need to accompany me. I can go alone."

"No way. You wait ... wait," he emphasized as he hurried over to where he'd left his clothes to get dressed. Once he was warmly bundled, he joined B'layr at the door. "You're crazy, you know. You don't expect to be able to swim when you get there? It's below freezing! The pool is probably iced over."

"I am prepared," B'layr said, showing Jim the small ax he had hanging from his belt.

"Look, if you need to be cleansed, how about a nice, hot tub here in the cabin? I'll draw the water and boil it myself."

B'layr shook his head. "That is not the same thing, my heart. You know that I must do this."

"And you know what a crock of shit it is to have to take a bath in some damned pool just because your tradition says so," Jim argued.

"I am Shaman and Healer to the Tribe," B'layr reminded him. "You have brought modern ways to our People, but the old traditions still hold sway. As a tribal elder, I must honor the beliefs among which I was raised."

"Then I'm going with you."

"Suit yourself, my love. I will not deny that company is preferred." B'layr smiled and opened the door, heading out into the cold drifts of snow.

Jim followed and for nearly two hours they trudged to the distant waterfall. Once there, B'layr surveyed the pool. There was a small area of open water beneath the falls. "I will swim there," B'layr said, pointing to the sparkling water.

Before Jim could protest, B'layr began walking around the water's edge until he came to the small recess behind the waterfall. He set down his pack and began to undress.

Jim reached his side just as the elf was peeling away the last layers of his clothing. He grabbed B'layr's arm. "Can't I talk you out of this?"

"No." B'layr slipped out of his mate's grasp and walked to the water's edge. "Just be prepared to assist me when I am finished." With that, he dove into the icy water, slicing the sparkling surface like a torpedo. Jim became concerned when he didn't surface right away, and walked to the edge of the pool to look into its depths.

B'layr rocketed up moments later, shaking water droplets from his long hair. "Get me a blanket, my heart," he requested just before sinking beneath the surface once more.

Jim hurried over to the pack to remove several towels and a heavy, woolen blanket. He headed back to the water's edge with the towels and waited for his mate to surface again.

B'layr shot out of the pool and into Jim's arms. The Sentry noted with alarm the drop in the elf's internal temperature, the bluish tinge to the porcelain skin, and the goose bumps that covered every inch of flesh. He quickly wrapped B'layr in the towels, making sure the long, wet hair was wrapped in a turban of terrycloth.

Jim dragged his mate back under the overhang of the cliff and began to briskly towel him dry. The friction brought some color back to the pale skin. Once B'layr was dry enough, Jim wrapped him in the blanket.

"Satisfied?" he growled, concern for B'layr's health still high. "You'll be lucky if you don't die of pneumonia after a trick like that!"

Burrowed in the warmth of the blanket, B'layr sneezed. "I'll be fine. Just help me get dressed? Please?"

"I don't want your naked body exposed to this cold air again," Jim argued. "Your internal temperature dropped over a degree and you need to get warm."

"I need to get back home and settled in front of the fireplace," B'layr countered.

"That's it! Stay here," Jim commanded, pointing at the spot where B'layr sat. "Right here! I'll be back in a few minutes."

B'layr nodded and huddled back into the warmth of the blanket. Jim returned about fifteen minutes later with an armload of semi-dry wood he'd found in a sheltered area of the forest. Using his flint and striker, he soon had a warm fire blazing. Once the tiny cave had filled with heat, Jim helped his mate slip back into his clothing, one layer at a time.

"We'll stay a while longer," said Jim. "Until you're warm enough to make the trip back."

"I can go now," B'layr insisted. "I am fine."

"You are not fine! You're still a popsicle," Jim argued. "Get closer to the fire."

B'layr scooted forward, grateful for the crackling blaze and really reluctant to leave it, despite knowing that he had to get home. "Forgive me?" He turned his head to look at his soulmate with imploring blue eyes.

"For being true to yourself and your traditions?" asked Jim, shaking his head. "I'm the one who should be apologizing to you, even though I still think it was a pretty stupid stunt."

B'layr snorted with laughter. "That's what I love about you—humility and arrogance, all rolled up into a tidy bundle. You are forgiven."

"How about we go home now?" Jim suggested. At B'layr's nod, he banked the fire, tossing snow onto the embers to make sure the fire was out. They gathered their packs and turned back toward the settlement and the warmth of their cabin.

~oO0Oo~

L'anin greeted his parents with steaming mugs of coffee upon their return. "I was worried when you were gone for so long."

"Your mother decided he needed to skinny-dip in a frozen pool," said Jim. "And it took a while to warm him up again."

"From the look of it, he isn't warm enough yet," said L'anin, laughing as he tilted his head toward the fireplace. B'layr huddled in front of the blaze, coffee mug in hand, still fully dressed in his heavy coat and boots.

"You try fulfilling tradition in mid-winter!" B'layr scoffed, taking a sip of the hot brew that warmed his hands. "I will be warm soon enough. How is A'mara?"

"He still sleeps," replied L'anin. "I worry that he sleeps so much."

"It is what his body needs to get strong," B'layr told his son. "Do not fret."

"As long as everything is all right, I think that I might go over to the long house for a visit," said Jim. "Maybe have a little talk with M'arik."

"Do you think that wise?" asked B'layr. "It is you, after all, that he resents."

"I don't mean to stir up trouble. I just think it might help if I show up; remind the rest of the Tribe how much better off they are now."

"I will come with you." B'layr stood and took his coffee mug to the sink.

"I think you should stay here and keep warm," said Jim. "You've had enough of being out in the cold today."

"It is a short walk to the long house, my heart. I will accompany you." B'layr took Jim's arm and the pair headed to the door together.

~oO0Oo~

The long house was crowded and warm. Both fireplaces blazed, while the elves gathered around playing games, reading books, or simply talking.

Jim and B'layr made their way across the room to the corner where M'arik kept his sleeping mat. The elf sat cross-legged on his bed, surrounded by a half dozen comrades. He looked up as the couple approached.

"Well, it is the Sentry himself who graces our presence. Welcome, Sentry."

"Greetings, M'arik," Jim replied stiffly.

"Have you come to squelch the uprising?" asked M'arik.

"I wasn't aware that there was to be an uprising," said Jim calmly. "It doesn't seem to be a reasonable course of action to take during the Cold Time."

"No, but planning it is," growled M'arik. "Your seed has ruled long enough. It is time a true elf leads the Ten Tribes."

"And who would that be?" Jim frowned at the elf. "You?"

"Perhaps. I am the son of M'aris's brother, the eldest of the ruling line for the Wolf Tribe. I have more right to the position than the female!" He spat the word as though it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"K'tiri is the fulfillment of the prophecy," B'layr pointed out. "A female elf, born of Sentry blood. She is the Bearer elf foretold in legends that go back as far as the Ancients."

"That is your opinion only, tanner!"

"I am no longer the Tribe's tanner," B'layr said softly. "I passed on that skill and took my place as Healer and Shaman. You know that, M'arik."

"And you think I should bow down to you because of your exalted position? Ha! You are no more than this human's whore! You carry his whelps and further dilute the purity of the elves."

Jim reached the impudent elf in three long strides and reached down to grasp M'arik's collar in his fist. "You talk to me in any way you please, but you respect B'layr!"

"Or else what, Sentry?"

Jim raised a fist, sorely tempted to smash the gloating face, but B'layr grasped his hand and stopped him. "Not here; not now, my heart. This is an argument for another time."

"You listen to your whore, Sentry. At least he's got a little sense."

"You be quiet!" B'layr said firmly, spinning to pin the dissident with flashing eyes. "You do not have the brains of a cockroach to be throwing out insults as though they have no consequence. Watch your words, M'arik, or you will surely be brought before the Council."

The far door slammed open, admitting the howling wind and drawing the attention of everyone in the long house. L'anin stood framed in the entryway, his face drawn and pale.

"I need the Healer! Mother, come quickly! A'mara needs your skill!"

B'layr rushed across the room and out the door, followed quickly by Jim. "What is happening? Why the emergency?"

L'anin turned to his Bearer. "He shakes uncontrollably and does not respond when I call to him."

"It sounds like a seizure," B'layr said, slipping through the door of the cabin ahead of L'anin.

A'mara was convulsing, the bed shaking and rattling with the intensity of his flailing. B'layr hurried to the side of the bed, followed by his family.

"Hold his arms and legs so that he does not hurt himself further," B'layr instructed. As L'anin and Jim attempted to restrain A'mara, B'layr closed his eyes and stretched out his hands. "Maker of All Things, if it be your will, let me heal this child of yours," he prayed. The golden light started softly, growing in intensity and spreading along A'mara's quaking form until the elf was encased in a brilliant aura. The shaking ceased suddenly, surprising the two who held A'mara down.

B'layr stood still and silent as the glow diffused, finally collapsing over A'mara's supine form when the light was gone. Jim was quickly at his side, lifting him off his patient and carrying him over to their bed. He laid B'layr on the soft mattress and then sat beside him, stroking his hand over the damp curls and speaking softly.

"Come on, Sweetheart, wake up. You did it; you stopped the seizure. Come, my soul, come back to me now." Jim lifted one of B'layr's hands and began to rub it briskly, bringing heat and life back into the cold fingers. After several minutes, blue eyes opened to look up at him. "Hey, there. You had me worried."

"I am well, just drained and tired. How is A'mara?"

"He sleeps."

"I need to check him," said B'layr, struggling against Jim's hold to sit up.

Jim pushed him back down. "No you don't, not right now. L'anin is skillful in medicine, too. You taught him well. Rest."

"I am the Healer," B'layr protested.

"And even the Healer must take time to heal," Jim reminded him. "You need to sleep."

"Then let me sleep with A'mara, like before." Once again, B'layr struggled to sit up.

"A'mara is sleeping peacefully, Mother," L'anin said, walking over to where B'layr lay, restless and unhappy.

"He is gravely ill. The child within does not grow properly. I think it might be dead." B'layr continued his struggle to get up. "When was the last time you used your senses to monitor the child?" he asked his son.

L'anin flushed crimson. "I have been so concerned with my soulmate, that I have not checked for several days."

"Then you must do it now," B'layr insisted. "A'mara's life may depend upon it."

L'anin moved away from B'layr's bed and back to his mate. Laying gentle hands on the rise of A'mara's belly, he felt for the child growing within. There was no movement. He rested an ear against the taut skin and listened for the swift whoosh-whoosh of the child's heart. There was nothing to hear. The color drained from the young Sentry's face as he realized that what his Bearer feared was true—the child inside A'mara's womb was dead.

Pale and shaken, L'anin turned toward where his Bearer lay. "The child is still and quiet. What now, Mother? What now?" Tears spilled over L'anin's cheeks as he grieved for the child they had lost.

"Gather the herbs to induce a miscarriage," said B'layr. "Infuse a strong tea and make A'mara drink it when he wakes."

"What if that does not work?" L'anin scrubbed at the tears still spilling down his cheeks. "I do not wish to lose my soulmate, as well."

"We will deal with that if and when we must," B'layr said firmly. "For now, go to the pantry and find the proper herbs for the tea."

L'anin moved slowly, his motion wooden and forced. Jim and B'layr watched as their son sorted through the herbal remedies stored in the pantry to find the combination that would induce the miscarriage of the dead child.

"If A'mara needs surgery, we can take him to the clinic where you had your hysterectomy," Jim suggested softly.

"Pray it does not come to that," B'layr responded. "I am not certain we could get A'mara out in time. A mid-winter blizzard rages outside our door."

"As you said, we'll deal with that if and when we need to," said Jim. "Meanwhile, A'mara is resting, and you should be too. Sleep, my soul. Restore your strength."

"Hold me until I fall asleep?" B'layr requested. "Your presence will help relax me."

Jim stretched out on the bed and gathered B'layr into his arms, cuddling and stroking his mate until the exhausted elf finally fell asleep.

When B'layr woke, several hours later, A'mara was sitting up in bed propped up by pillows and sipping at the tea L'anin had brewed.

"A'mara, my friend, how goes it?" asked B'layr, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and slowly sitting up with his mate's assistance.

L'anin's soulmate regarded his dearest friend and attempted to smile. "Not so well, I am afraid. L'anin told me we lost our child, and now I find it hard to want to continue."

"But you must, for L'anin's sake," B'layr said, making his way slowly across the room. "Our son is as devastated as you at the loss of the elfling. Do not make him endure the loss of his soulmate as well."

"Listen to him, A'mara!" L'anin pleaded. "Grasp hold of life. There is always the time for more children."

"Not for me," A'mara said wearily. "I am too old, and my womb is not strong enough to Bear."

"Then you will Sire children of my womb," L'anin insisted. "We can still be fruitful. A'mere grows strong and healthy, and he shows the Sentry gift. He was your gift to me. Give to me again."

A'mara reached out to cup L'anin's cheek with his hand. "Beautiful child, I love you with all my heart and soul, but I do not know that I have the strength left to do as you bid." His face wrinkled in pain and he doubled over, wrapping his arms around his mid-section as he cried out in pain. "Ahhhh!"

"A'mara!" L'anin bent over his mate. "What is wrong?"

"He feels the first of the cramps," B'layr said softly. "His body prepares to expel the child."

A'mara's naked body glistened with sweat and he gasped in air to starved lungs between bouts of extreme distress as the cramps seized his muscles.

"Help me turn him onto his side," B'layr instructed his son. Together, they lowered the suffering elf to the mattress, allowing him to curl up into a fetal position. "Now, we wait."

"Is there nothing we can give him to ease the pain?" L'anin asked.

B'layr shook his head. "Unfortunately, anything to relieve the pain of the cramps would slow down what must happen. The discomfort will be brief."

Jim came up behind B'layr and wrapped his arms around the elf's waist. "How are you holding up?"

"I am fine," B'layr insisted. "You do not have to hold me up."

"But I like holding you," Jim said, nuzzling into the hair behind B'layr's ear. "And you're not as strong as you want everyone else to believe. I know how pregnancy affects you."

"My pregnancy is not at issue here," said B'layr, turning back to his patient when A'mara let out a loud cry. Looking up at L'anin, B'layr pursed his lips. "Get me some warm water and soap. I am going to have to go in to see how A'mara progresses."

L'anin was quick to comply and soon had a steaming bowl of water, some soap, and towels waiting for B'layr on a small table next to the bed. B'layr quickly scrubbed and then bent over his patient again.

"Hold A'mara's hands," B'layr instructed, "and talk to him. Tell him all will be well, but that this may be uncomfortable."

As L'anin bent to his task, B'layr worked his fingers into A'mara's dilated opening, pushing deeper until his hand and part of his forearm were inside. A'mara moaned and squirmed, assaulted by pain from both directions now.

"I am sorry, my friend," B'layr said, his voice low. "But I must know where the child is.... There! Good...." He eased his hand and arm from A'mara's body. "It will not be much longer now. Hold on, A'mara. You can do this." B'layr lay a hand on the elf's belly and put firm pressure against the swollen flesh. "You must push now. Expel the child, my friend. You can do this," he repeated, the monotony of his voice soothing to his agitated patient.

A'mara struggled to comply, but his body was weakened from too many weeks of pregnancy. "I am sorry ... I cannot...." His voice was soft and strained, all strength drained from him.

"Then I will have to do it for you," B'layr replied, equally soft. With one hand still pushing firmly against A'mara's belly, B'layr slipped his hand inside once more, feeling for something to grasp and pull out. Finally, tiny feet emerged from the womb and the Healer was able to get a hold and bring the tiny child into the world. Looking up from the bloody mass on the bed, he spoke to L'anin, who stood transfixed. "Go. Get me a soft hide to wrap the body."

L'anin reluctantly turned away from the bed and went in search of the softest pelt in their collection. He found the small, white-furred hide of a snowshoe rabbit and brought it back to the bed. B'layr placed the fetus on the soft, white fur and wrapped it, handing the bundle to his son.

"Place this in the cold room, where it will not spoil until the ground is soft enough to dig a grave," B'layr instructed. L'anin took the tiny bundle and held it to his chest, tears flowing freely as he did as his Bearer had requested.

"How is A'mara?" L'anin asked when he returned. "He will be all right now?"

"I do not know," B'layr said honestly. "He still bleeds."

"But isn't that usual, until the placenta is expelled?" L'anin asked.

B'layr nodded. "I will keep watch. Why not lie down by the fire and try to get some rest, my son? You must be exhausted."

"No more than you, Mother." L'anin looked across the bed at the haggard countenance of his Bearer. "Perhaps it is you who should rest."

"I'll second that!" Jim said, gently tugging at B'layr's waist. "There's nothing more you can do for now. Why don't you clean up and lie down for a bit?"

"No. When this is through, I shall sleep for a week," B'layr said, trying to rally a smile. "But for now, A'mara still needs me."

"B'layr, please, be reasonable," pleaded Jim. "You're practically dead on your feet."

"I am much better off than A'mara right now," B'layr countered. Then softening his tone, he turned to face his soulmate. "Really, my heart ... I am fine. I am too high on adrenaline right now to rest, and A'mara needs to be tended by the Tribe's Healer."

"Mother!" L'anin's frantic voice brought B'layr's attention back to the bed. The placenta lay on the sheets in growing puddle of blood.

"A'mara!" B'layr shouted, his voice commanding. "I do not give you permission to go!" Closing his eyes, B'layr extended his hands once more, willing the healing light. Instead, he found himself in the blue forest of the spirit plane.

~*~*~*~

Before him on the ground was a snowshoe rabbit, resplendent in its white winter coat. Slowly, the creature morphed to become his friend, A'mara.

"You cannot travel to the Beyond yet," said B'layr. "Too many still need you back home."

"You are strong; L'anin is strong—but my child needs me," A'mara insisted. "I do not wish to cause more pain, but I do not have a choice." In the distance, down the path that led to the light, the crying of a babe could be heard echoing softly through the trees.

"Those who have gone before will watch over your elfling. L'anin needs you. Without you, his heart will be broken. A'mere needs you. He needs his Sire to teach him the gentle ways of the elves. You have much yet to live for," B'layr insisted. "You do not have to go."

The child wailed again, and A'mara's attention was drawn to the path. He reached out to clasp B'layr's hands, squeezing them in a gentle farewell. "Tell my soulmate how very much I love him, and tell A'mere that I will always watch over him from above. I will always be a part of you, too, my love. Be well, and Bear many children."

"A'mara, no! Please!" B'layr begged. "Please, you cannot go."

"Will you lead me down the path, Shaman, or must I go alone?"

B'layr wilted under the determined onslaught from his friend. "While I am Shaman of the Ten Tribes, no one of its members shall walk the path alone." He took A'mara's hand and they began the long trek down the wooded trail. As the light grew stronger and more brilliant, he turned once more to his companion. "Go in peace, A'mara. Meet the Ancestors and greet them warmly. They await you."

A'mara stepped away, toward the light, but before he was completely consumed, he turned and smiled. "I will always be with you, Shaman. Call on me when you need strength."

B'layr watched with a mixture of sadness and lightness of heart as his dearest friend disappeared with a brilliant flare of light.

~*~*~*~

B'layr slumped over the body of A'mara, unconscious from exhaustion. Jim lifted him and carried him back to their bed where he stripped off the bloody clothes and wiped down B'layr's body before tucking him under the blankets.

L'anin was torn between his mother and his soulmate, tears of loss and longing flowing freely. Jim walked over to where his son stood beside A'mara's bed and wrapped a supporting arm around L'anin's waist. He pulled the sheet up, covering the body, and then led his grieving son to the couch by the fire.

"I know it doesn't seem like it right now," Jim began, "but it will get easier."

"He was my soulmate. My one and only," said L'anin through his tears. "Nothing will fill the hole left by his departing."

"Perhaps not," Jim agreed, "but the pain will lessen with time. You still have A'mere, the son of your joining. There will always be a part of your soulmate with you."

"It is not the same," L'anin grieved. "Now I am alone."

"No." Jim shook his head. "You'll never be alone as long as you have family."

"H-How is Mother?"

"He sleeps," said Jim. "I don't know what went on there at the last, but whatever it was took a lot of energy. B'layr nears the mid-point in his pregnancy, and his endurance isn't as great right now as it would be otherwise."

"But he's all right?"

Jim stroked the long curls of his son, so very similar to his soulmate's. "He's fine. Just sleeping. I'm sure he'll tell us what happened when he wakes up. Maybe you should try sleeping a while, too. Today has been hard on you."

"Hold me?" L'anin pleaded.

Gathering his grown son like the child he once was, Jim held L'anin until he was able to fall asleep.

Once the room was quiet, Jim slipped away, making his way over to the cabin where K'tiri shared her hearth with her mate, S'kur, and daughter, K'lyn.

"Father! What brings you here at this hour?" K'tiri asked as she opened the door to let her Sire into the cabin.

"Sad news. A'mara died birthing his stillborn son," said Jim, stomping the snow off his boots before entering.

"Oh, no!" K'tiri's hand flew to cover her mouth. "L'anin must be distraught! How is he?"

"Sleeping, for now. I've come because we need to raise a funeral pyre. The ground is too cold for a burial, and I wouldn't want to store the body outdoors where the animals could desecrate it."

K'tiri nodded. "Yes, you are right. And in the warmth of the cabin, the body will decay quickly." She pulled back the curtains to look out into the late afternoon light. The storm that had howled so fiercely earlier in the day had cleared and the sky was a lavender hue. "I will gather a crew to build the pyre. We shall honor A'mara this night, beneath the full moon." Jim nodded his agreement and turned to leave. "Wait, Sire! How is Mother? I assume he was with A'mara as Healer and Shaman?"

"B'layr is exhausted. He fought hard to keep A'mara alive, but there wasn't anything he could do. He's sleeping now," Jim told his daughter.

"Will he be ready for the ceremony this evening?"

"I think so. By then, he should have had enough rest."

"All right." K'tiri nodded. "I will see to the arrangements. You go and take care of your family. I will send someone when the pyre is ready."

"Thank you." Jim opened the door and stepped outside.

As he did, K'tiri's voice floated out behind him, "You take care as well, Father."

~oO0Oo~

The entire population of the two long houses turned out to view A'mara's funeral pyre. L'anin stood nearest the conflagration, flanked by his parents and young A'mere. Tears streamed down his face and it took the strength of both Jim and B'layr to hold him upright as his knees buckled from his grief.

Despite the cold, the family stayed until the pyre crumbled and the fire was doused by the renewed snowfall. Had they been able to see it through the clouds, the sun had risen to a gray morning. Jim and B'layr guided L'anin back to the cabin, while K'tiri took A'mere under her wing to foster while his surviving parent grieved.

L'anin stumbled over the threshold of the cabin and was led to the couch by his parents.

"Rest, L'anin," said B'layr softly. "You are exhausted."

The grieving elf just nodded, not having the strength to resist anymore. Closing his eyes, L'anin drifted into a restless sleep.

Jim looked over at the bed he and B'layr used to share—at the blood still staining the sheets crimson. "I'll take care of that. I doubt L'anin will want to sleep there anymore after last night."

"I am not so certain that I do, either," B'layr said sadly. "But I will sleep there again, if it will be better for L'anin."

"I didn't know...." Jim approached his soulmate and wrapped an arm around his waist. "I didn't know that you and A'mara had been lovers...."

"That was a long time ago," sighed B'layr. "As much as we wanted it, we were not destined to be together." He looked up at Jim and smiled. "I do not regret what the Fates made of my life." He reached a hand up to caress Jim's cheek, then stood on tiptoe to place a chaste kiss on the taut lips of his mate. "I would not trade my life with you for any amount of riches. You are the one I was meant to be with. You are the one that completes me." He patted the swell of his belly.

"Have I told you lately how much I love you?" Jim asked, gathering B'layr into his arms.

"Not in so many words," B'layr whispered. "But you tell me in other ways."

"Why don't you try to get some rest while I clean up this bed?" Jim suggested. "L'anin isn't the only one exhausted and sick with grief."

B'layr nodded and allowed himself to be led over to the smaller bed and tucked in. He watched for a while as Jim stripped the bloodied sheets and turned the mattress on the queen bed. But his eyes grew heavy, and soon he too slept.

~oO0Oo~

It had been nine days since A'mara's passing, and L'anin was getting restless. B'layr watched from bed as his son paced in the confines of the cabin. Jim was concentrating on his mate's pregnancy, monitoring the child B'layr carried for any signs of distress.

"I, too, grow restless," said B'layr softly, never taking his eyes off L'anin. "Perhaps it is time to go back to the city. I have work to complete there."

"Are you sure that's wise?" Jim asked, risking a glance at their son before returning to his monitoring. "L'anin is still pretty agitated. It might not be such a good idea to leave him here alone. And your pregnancy is progressing. You're not going to be able to hide it much longer."

"How is the child?"

"He grows strong," said Jim, keeping his voice low, even though L'anin could still hear every word they spoke.

"Then there is no reason that I cannot travel," B'layr replied.

"What about the other problems here at home? What about M'arik?" Jim finished his exam and perched himself on the edge of the bed, taking B'layr's hand and stroking it gently.

"M'arik is a concern, but he is not our problem. K'tiri will deal with him. L'anin, on the other hand..." B'layr sighed. Every day had been a struggle for their son since the death of his soulmate. It was hard for B'layr to watch. He ached to be able to take away L'anin's pain, and yet knew in his heart that even the most skilled Healer of the Ancients wouldn't be able to heal this wound. Only time would make a difference. "Perhaps a change of scenery would do him good. Why do we not suggest that he come with us to Cascade?"

"He's only been to the city a few times," Jim countered. "It might be too much of a change."

"It might be just what he needs—a little culture shock. Get him away from the too familiar, the memories. Give him something else to think about." B'layr tore his eyes from L'anin's pacing to look up at Jim. His mate nodded and leaned down to kiss his forehead.

Jim rose from the bed and crossed the room, stilling L'anin's incessant pacing with a calming hand. "Your mother wishes to return to the city. He has work to do there at the university."

"Then you should go." L'anin's voice was flat with misery. "I will be all right. You do not have to baby-sit me."

"B'layr thinks you might do better with a change of pace. Why don't you come with us?"

L'anin shook his head. "I cannot leave this place. I can still feel A'mara here."

"A'mara will be with you wherever you travel," said B'layr from across the room. "He told me he would watch over us. You need not stay here where the memories continue to wound your soul."

L'anin looked at his mother and tears began to well in his eyes once more. "I miss him so much. I feel empty here," he pounded his chest over his heart, "as though a physical piece of me has been removed."

"And so it has." B'layr got up and crossed the room to stand beside his son. "Soulmates become each other. When A'mara passed, he took a part of you with him, but he left a part of himself in its place." He placed a hand over L'anin's heart and a warm, golden glow emanated from his palm. "Feel him. He is there, my son, a part of you, forever." B'layr gathered L'anin into his arms and let the younger elf cry out his sorrow.

"When will the aching stop, Mother? When will I stop missing him?"

"Never, my son. But time will make the hurting less, and a change of scenery now will help your soul to heal." B'layr pushed L'anin to arm's length and looked into the incredible aquamarine depths of his son's eyes. "A'mara wanted you to continue. He wanted you to move forward with your life—never forgetting, but never regretting, either. Come with us." L'anin nodded mutely, unsure of his voice at this moment. B'layr turned to Jim. "Can we get a message to Steve to come and pick us up?"

"I think that can be arranged," Jim replied. "Why don't you two start packing?"

"What of A'mere?" asked L'anin.

"K'tiri can continue to foster him for the time being," B'layr replied. "You still need to heal. A'mere is only fifteen moons of age. He is not yet old enough to understand what has happened. Once you are fully healed, you can explain to him about his Sire."

L'anin sighed and nodded, turning to fetch his satchel and pack his belongings for the trip.

~oO0Oo~

The flight back to Cascade was somber. No one felt much like making conversation, and so all sat in silence. Steve dropped them off in the parking lot of the loft's building, and the three hurried inside.

B'layr guided L'anin in, settling him on the couch while Jim got some wood and started a warm blaze in the fireplace.

"Jim, is there anything edible in the refrigerator?" B'layr asked, sitting next to their son and wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"Do not worry about me. I am not hungry," L'anin said softly.

B'layr brushed an errant lock of hair from L'anin's forehead and frowned. "You have not eaten for several days. Even with our metabolism, you still need sustenance. Perhaps Jim would be kind enough to go to the market and pick up some fresh red fruits and mushrooms." He grinned and held out his left palm, circling the index finger of his right hand over it. "They have mushrooms here as big as your hand!"

"It is all right, really," protested the younger elf.

"Jim?" B'layr looked up at his mate, eyes wide with pleading.

"Sure thing," said Jim, grabbing his coat and heading back toward the door. "I'll go to the corner market. I won't be gone long."

Once they were alone, B'layr turned to his son once more. "How about I take you to the spirit plane?"

"Why?"

"Do not question. Just relax, and come with me."

Both elves closed their eyes and B'layr began a soft, monotonous hum. He reached out to clasp L'anin's hands....

And the world faded into the blue of the forest. L'anin stood in a grassy meadow surrounded by ancient trees towering into the sky. To his right was a wide path covered with pine needles and leading deep into the forest. Before him, a wolf approached. As he watched, the animal stood on its hind legs and morphed into a vision of his Bearer.

"The wolf ... he is your spirit guide?" L'anin questioned.

"As the great stag is yours." B'layr raised a hand toward something behind L'anin. The younger elf turned to see a great male deer standing nearby. "And the rabbit is A'mara's." A white rabbit now sat at the head of the trail leading into the forest. As L'anin watched, it changed, growing in size and shape until A'mara stood before them.

His heart swelling with joy at the reunion, L'anin ran toward his mate. "A'mara, my soul!" The two elves embraced. "I have missed you so much!"

"I know, my heart, but it was better this way. Our elfling needed me, and I did not have the strength to continue in the world. My only regret is that my decision caused you grief."

L'anin wiped at his tears. "I wish you could return. I need you. My heart is broken, empty, without you beside me."

"I know, my love. I understand your grief better than most, but what is done, is done. I will always watch over you, protect you, but I wish you to go on with your life. You are young. You will find another soulmate someday." A'mara lifted a hand to cup L'anin's cheek, wiping at a falling tear with his thumb. "I know you do not feel it now, but it will happen. I found a second happiness when I thought I never would ... You completed me, L'anin. And someday, you will find another to complete you."

"I do not believe that is possible," L'anin replied. "You are my heart and my soul."

A'mara smiled gently. "Just remember when the time comes, you have my blessing, heart of my heart." He began to pull away, setting foot on the path into the forest. "I must go now; return to the Ancestors and our elfling. But remember: I will always be with you."

L'anin stretched out his arms in supplication. "No! A'mara, no, please don't go yet!"

"It is time," A'mara said sadly, turning to walk down the path.

L'anin watched him go, his heart heavy, yet strangely light. B'layr approached and wrapped an arm around his son's waist. "If you ever need him, he will be there for you. But I agree ... you are young. There is time for you to love again."

"I do not know, Mother," L'anin sighed. "A part of me feels freed, but my heart is still heavy with sorrow."

The blue of the forest faded back to the warm glow of the fireplace in the loft. "It is early, still, my son. You need time to mourn, time to adjust to the loss of your soulmate, but the day may come of which A'mara speaks—be open to love when it finds you." B'layr released L'anin's hands and looked up as Jim returned from the market.

"They only had the greenhouse-grown tomatoes, but I figured those were better than nothing," Jim said, setting the grocery bag down on the kitchen counter. "I bought a half dozen of the Portabella mushrooms, too. Hope that's enough. They're expensive!"

"As if price is a problem for you!" B'layr teased coming up behind his mate and wrapping his arms around Jim's waist. "What else did you bring?"

"I found cow tongue," Jim said, grimacing slightly. "I recall you liked it."

"As did you, once you tried it," B'layr said, laughing.

Jim glanced over at L'anin, who had settled on the floor in front of the fireplace. "How is he?"

"He is still processing," B'layr explained. "I took him to the Between to speak with A'mara. I think it helped, but time will tell."

"Do you think we can convince him to eat anything?" Jim wondered.

B'layr dug in the cupboard and pulled out a cooking pot that he filled with water and carried to the stove. "I will boil the tongue and prepare the mushrooms and red fruit. I believe he will eat once the meal is ready."

~oO0Oo~

L'anin ate without enthusiasm, and when the meal was finished, he rose. "I wish to be alone."

B'layr wiped his mouth on a napkin and then got up to stand next to his son. "You may have the downstairs bedroom," he said, leading L'anin to the small room behind the stairs. "If you need anything, you will let us know?"

L'anin nodded. "Thank you."

"You are sure you do not need a willing ear? I will listen, if you wish to talk," B'layr offered.

"Thank you, no." L'anin shook his head. "I need time to think about what A'mara told me." He turned to his Bearer and forced a smile. "I will be all right, Mother. You need not worry about me."

"But I do," B'layr told him. "You will always be my elfling and I will always want to 'fix' the hurt."

"This is one hurt you cannot mend, even with your newfound powers," L'anin informed him. "I must heal from within."

B'layr nodded. "You are wise for one still so young. Call if you need anything."

"I will." L'anin turned and entered the room, closing the French doors behind him.

B'layr sighed and walked across the room to where Jim waited. He fell into the open arms, taking comfort in his soulmate's embrace. "I do not know that I could be that strong," he whispered. "If I were to ever lose you, I fear I would follow you to the Beyond in my grief."

"I don't believe that," Jim said, his words muffled by the mahogany curls in which his face was buried. "You'd be strong enough to go on without me."

"I would bring you back from the edge of the Abyss, or die trying," B'layr responded. He took Jim's hand and headed for the stairs. "All this talk of death and dying makes my body yearn to be reassured," he said as they reached the bedroom. Pushing Jim down onto the bed, B'layr crawled on top, rubbing his rock-hard erection against Jim's thigh. "I wish to claim you, J'anin. I wish to fill you with my life's seed." Fingers clumsy with need scrabbled at the buttons on Jim's shirt. In order to save his clothing from being torn off his body, Jim assisted his amorous mate in disrobing himself.

As B'layr quickly stripped, Jim voiced his concern. "L'anin is right below us. Do you think it's appropriate for us to be fucking where he can hear us?"

"Roll over," B'layr commanded, seeming to ignore Jim's comments. He grabbed the lube off the nightstand and squeezed some on his fingers, quickly inserting them to prepare his mate. Jim grunted when B'layr first entered him, muffling any other noise with the pillows. "L'anin will understand. It is even possible that he will not notice. His grief is deep."

B'layr rose up on his knees, positioning himself behind Jim. His cock hung heavy and weeping as he lined himself up with the entrance to his lover's body. "Oh, gawwwwwd...!" Jim cried as B'layr thrust in, his body suddenly wanting and needing the connection as deeply as his partner did. Burying his face in a pile of pillows, he tried to smother the sounds being ripped from his throat by their lovemaking. He could feel the roundness of his lover's belly slamming into his buttocks with each piercing thrust. B'layr pounded into Jim's willing body until his own was coated in a sheen of sweat, glistening in the soft glow from the skylight. Fingers gripped Jim's hips with a strength sure to leave bruises in the morning, but it only served to further heighten the Sentry's already overloaded sense of touch. When the fingers of one hand left Jim's hip to wrap around the hard column of his penis, it was enough to topple Jim over the precipice of his orgasm. With a cry that couldn't be muffled by any number of pillows, he shot a steady stream of semen onto the sheets. Moments later, he felt his body fill with heat as B'layr cried out his own completion.

They toppled onto the bed, Jim attempting to land to one side of the mess he'd made on the mattress. B'layr stretched out languorously beside Jim, stroking the mound of his belly and his flaccid penis. "I still can't believe the miracle that grows here," he sighed softly.

Jim spread his fingers and slowly stroked his hand over the roundness. "Neither can I. When we lost the twins, I thought we'd lost forever the chance of being parents again."

"We are getting older. Does it bother you to become a father at this time?"

"Are you kidding?" Jim chuckled and bent over to place a kiss on his mate's distended bellybutton. "I love you all the more when you're pregnant. I'd keep you pregnant all the time if I thought it wouldn't kill you." He chuckled at his own joke.

B'layr snorted with laughter in response. "You just like it because I get horny when I Bear."

"Is there anything wrong with that?" Jim asked, his mouth quirking into his signature smirk.

"Not a thing, my heart. I love you." B'layr rolled over and snuggled into Jim's arms, kissing him soundly.

"Love you too, Imp," said Jim, holding his soulmate in the protective circle of his embrace.

~oO0Oo~

The following morning, B'layr prepared to go to the university to check on the progress Professor Sanchez was making with his paper. L'anin emerged from his bedroom looking calmer than he had the day before. B'layr smiled at his son. "Did you manage to get any rest last night?"

"I spent most of my time meditating," replied L'anin.

"I hope that J'anin and I did not disturb you."

L'anin actually smiled. "I was meditating and thinking of A'mara. I imagined the sounds were made by the two of us sealing our love one last time. You did not disturb me; quite the contrary."

"I am glad." B'layr headed into the kitchen to prepare a sack lunch to take with him. "I am going to Rainier this morning. I need to spend some time there with my advisor working on my paper. Would you like to accompany me? It is a large campus, with much for you to see."

"I would like to get out and see the city."

"Then I will pack enough lunch for both of us," said B'layr, reaching for the bread to make another sandwich.

Jim came out of the bathroom, fresh from his morning shower and wrapped his arms around B'layr's expanding waistline in a hug. "Good morning, beautiful."

B'layr turned so that he was facing his mate and tilted his head back, his mouth inviting a kiss. Jim bent down to capture the waiting lips, his kiss arousing more than expected. B'layr pushed away, laughing. "Careful, my heart, or instead of heading out for the day, we will end up back in bed."

"Would that be so bad?" asked Jim with a mischievous smirk.

"Ah-ah-ah..." B'layr replied, shaking a finger in front of Jim's face. "Not so bad, maybe, but I, for one, have things that need doing today. What about you?"

"I thought I'd stop by and visit with Stevie for a while, then go peruse the local nurseries for any plants we might want to take back to the greenhouse for planting in the garden this spring."

"Do not forget the red fruits," said B'layr. "I liked those large ones, 'beefsteak' I believe they were called. And get some of the yellow ones, too. Those were particularly sweet."

"Yes, sir," Jim replied, smiling. "I'll see what I can do."

"Can you pick us up at the university around three this afternoon?" B'layr asked. "That should give me enough time."

"Got the cell phone with you?" Jim asked. When B'layr nodded, he continued. "I don't know how long my day is going to take. If I'm going to run late, I'll give you a call."

"That would be fine," B'layr agreed. "L'anin, are you ready to leave?"

"Nearly, Mother," the younger elf called out from the bedroom. When he emerged, he was dressed casually in jeans and a T-shirt, his long hair pulled back in a ponytail but still covering the delicate points of his ears. "What are we going to be doing today?"

"I will undoubtedly need to spend time with my advisor and work on my paper, but you may explore the campus. They have a wonderful library there that I am sure will intrigue you," B'layr suggested.

"You two coming, or are you going to stand around all day talking about it?" Jim teased from the doorway. He held up the car keys and shook them gently.

"We are coming," B'layr replied, hurrying after his partner.

~oO0Oo~

B'layr led the way down the stairs to Artifact Room 3. On the door was taped a temporary name plate that read "Blair Ellison."

"Mother, they have spelled your name incorrectly," L'anin pointed out.

His Bearer chuckled and unlocked the door. "Naomi said the proper spelling was too difficult to pronounce, and that this is how most humans say my name anyway. She is correct. I am trying to blend in here."

"Who is Naomi?"

"She is my research assistant," B'layr explained. "She is in her late twenties, I believe, having returned to college after taking some time off to explore the world. She is studying anthropology."

"Does she know ... about you?" L'anin asked.

"About me being an elf, or elves in general? No," said B'layr. "I've tried very hard to keep that from her. The fewer humans who know the secret, the better it will be for our People. Professor Sanchez is the only one here so far who knows."

"Will you tell Naomi?"

"I would rather not," said B'layr, his back to the door as he opened his laptop and turned it on.

"What is it that you'd rather not tell me?" Naomi Sandburg stood just outside in the hallway, a dazzling smile lighting up her face. "And where have you been for so long?"

"Family emergency," B'layr explained. "My son-in-law took ill and died."

"Oh ... I'm so sorry to hear that," Naomi replied, temporarily subdued. "So, what is it you didn't want to tell me?"

B'layr chuckled at her persistence. "It is a secret, Naomi. That is all you need to know."

"And who is this handsome young man?" she asked, turning to L'anin. "He's the spitting image of you!"

"This is my son, L'anin. He is visiting the university today," B'layr explained.

"Your son! He couldn't be!" Naomi protested. "You're not nearly old enough to be this one's father."

"He is not my father," L'anin began. "He is my moth—"

"You would be surprised," B'layr quickly interrupted. "He truly is my son. L'anin, this is my assistant, Naomi Sandburg."

"Pleased to meet you," L'anin said, taking Naomi's hand and kissing it in a very Continental fashion.

"Oh, my. Your son is quite the charmer," said Naomi, blushing slightly.

"Hmmm..." B'layr murmured as he opened some research files on his computer. "I do not have need of your services today. Perhaps you could show L'anin around campus, if you have some free time."

"I just had one class today, and it's done," Naomi said, grinning. "I'd love to show L'anin around. Come on!" She took the elf's hand and almost dragged him from the room.

"Have fun!" B'layr called to the departing couple.

Once he was alone, B'layr made a call to Carl Sanchez's office. "Hello, Carl? This is B'layr Ellison. Yes, it has been a long time," he agreed. "Look, I was wondering if you were finished reviewing my paper?" He nodded as he listened to the response, grinning. "In that case, I'll come right up to get it." He said his good-byes and hung up the phone, heading out the door to the elevator that would take him up to the third floor.

B'layr knocked on the heavy oak door. "Come on in, B'layr," called Sanchez. When B'layr had entered, the professor looked up and smiled. "It's good to see you again. I hope you managed to take care of everything at home?"

"Yes." B'layr nodded but didn't elaborate.

"Have a seat." Sanchez lifted the thick document from his desk and passed it over to B'layr. "This was a very intriguing read. I've made a few notes in the margins, but other than that, I'd say this is ready to publish and defend. I do hope I can talk you into doing that?"

B'layr riffled the pages, taking a quick glance at the notations, before looking up at his advisor. "I appreciate that you think this is good enough to get me my doctorate," he began, "but I have yet to figure out how to disguise the existence of my People and still keep the validity of the paper. I'm afraid the only publishing will be for personal use."

"That would be a shame," Sanchez lamented. "What you have there is quite a magnificent piece of research. Proving the existence of another branch on humanity's tree would make you famous."

"And would most likely bring about the demise of the elves," said B'layr sadly. "I am sorry, Carl, but I cannot let that happen. What we have is too precious to destroy."

Sanchez sighed and nodded. "I understand. If I were in your shoes, I'd probably do the same thing. It's too bad, though. I would have liked to see the ruckus this would have created in the world of anthropology."

"Perhaps I will consider another subject for my doctoral thesis," B'layr said by way of apology. "But this ... I am sorry that I took so much of your time. I had hoped I would find a way to both publish and keep secret the existence of my people, but I see now that that would be impossible." He rose and made his way toward the door. "I will clear out my office space within the week."

"Wait, B'layr!" Sanchez stood up and pinned the elf with pleading eyes. "Don't clear out your office just yet. Go over your paper, give it some thought ... some more thought," he amended. "And if you truly feel you can't publish, then we can work together to find you another subject to write about."

"You could clear that with the Dean and the Chancellor?" B'layr asked, excited that there might still be a way to procure his degree.

"I'll see what I can do," Sanchez promised. "Just don't make any hasty decisions, all right?"

B'layr nodded. "All right. Thank you, Carl." He made his way back down to his cramped office and began going through the paper to make the suggested changes. The hours slipped away without him even noticing. A knock on the door brought B'layr's head up from his task as he turned and called out, "Come in!"

"It's almost three," said Jim, walking in and looking at his watch. "Are you ready to make a break out of here?"

B'layr ran a hand through his unruly curls and nodded. "It has been a long day. How about we stop Chung's for some Chinese takeout on the way home?"

"Sounds good to me," Jim agreed. "Where's L'anin?"

A look of momentary surprise crossed B'layr's face as he remembered that he had brought their son with him to the campus. "Naomi is showing him around. I think we could perhaps find them at the library."

The sound of laughter drifted up the hall as the couple turned to leave. Naomi and L'anin rounded the corner talking and laughing. They stopped short when they noticed Jim and B'layr standing in the doorway. "L'anin?" B'layr stepped forward, puzzled by his son's lightheartedness. "Is everything all right?"

"More than all right, Mother," L'anin replied. B'layr paled at his son's words, concerned about how much Naomi knew. "A'mara said I would find happiness again. I did not believe it at the time, nor did I believe it could be found so soon."

B'layr looked between his son and his assistant. Their faces glowed. "Do you believe in love at first sight?" Naomi asked, then rushed on before either Jim or B'layr could comment. "Call it Fate, call it Karma ... whatever...." She turned and took L'anin's face between her palms and kissed him soundly. "But it seems this was meant to be."

"This was meant to be what?" Jim asked dryly.

"Why, love, of course," Naomi responded.

"It is true," L'anin said, nodding. "I feel the pull of the soul bond."

"You have only just met!" B'layr protested. "You do not know one another well enough!"

"How long had you known Father before you knew?" L'anin asked his Bearer.

B'layr was brought up short by the question. He had known the moment he'd first set eyes on Jim. They had mated later that very same day and he had conceived L'anin. "But that ... that was different!" he protested.

"How?" L'anin asked. "How was it different? You knew the moment you met, did you not?"

"But J'anin is of elv..." B'layr had been about to say 'elven blood' but brought himself up short. "It is time for us to leave," he said, changing tactics. "We can talk about this later."

"If you're in a hurry, I can lock up," Naomi offered. "I'll just straighten a few things up before I leave."

"Yes, thank you," said B'layr, steering L'anin toward the elevator.

After the three men had left, Naomi turned to the small office. B'layr's dissertation lay on the desk next to his open laptop with the revised copy still on screen. Curious, she picked up the paper and began to read. The afternoon turned to evening and then to night before she finished, but she was so excited she could hardly contain herself.

Picking up the telephone, she dialed a number in New York. "Sid? This is Naomi Sandburg."

"Naomi! It's good to hear from you again. Are you here in New York?" Sid Graham wondered.

"No. No, I'm in Cascade, at Rainier University," Naomi explained. "Look, Sid, I just finished reading my boss's dissertation paper, and I think it's something you should see."

"Why's that, Sweetheart?"

"B'layr doesn't seem to want to publish it for some reason. I thought that maybe if you had a look..."

"Is it any good? What's it about?"

"Elves, Sid. He wrote about elves and them coming to South America and then migrating up here, to the Pacific Northwest," Naomi told him, breathless with excitement.

"Elves?" Sid sounded skeptical. "You said this was a doctorate level research paper? About Elves?"

"Yes, real elves! Do you have time to look it over?"

"There's always time for you, my dear. Just e-mail me the file and I'll get to it tonight."

Naomi grinned like an excited child on Christmas morning as she attached the file and hit the 'send' key. "It's on its way, Sid."

"Okay, kiddo. I'll get back to you. I promise."

"Thanks. B'layr will be so excited when he finds out that a real publisher thinks his work is good enough to print. Maybe it will give him the confidence he needs to go forward with it."

"Hope so," said Sid. "Good-bye, Naomi."

"Bye, Sid." Naomi hung up and sat back with a contented sigh. A few minutes later she shut down the computer, turned out the lights, and locked the door behind her as she left.

~oO0Oo~

The loft door was barely closed behind them when L'anin exploded. "I am an adult and I can make my own decisions! I still grieve for A'mara, but the call of the soul bond cannot be ignored!"

"It cannot be a soul bond!" B'layr insisted. "Jim—J'anin—is descended from elven blood and carries the Sentry gene. That is why I could be called to him. Naomi is a human woman, her soul does not cry out to you."

"How do you know she does not also carry the elven genes?" L'anin argued. "There could be many that we do not know about."

"Unlikely!" B'layr spat, handing off the take-out boxes to Jim so that he could continue the argument. "Our ancestor, your namesake, deserted the elves and went out into the human population to take a wife. One wife. One elf. One family. Jim and Naomi are not related."

"That L'anin took a human wife and mated with her," L'anin argued. "He must have felt something for her. They were able to procreate, to have children and to pass down the legacy of the Sentry gift. Why can I not do the same?"

"Have you spent the last few months hiding under a rock?" B'layr's voice flared and his hands gesticulated wildly. "Are you not aware of M'arik and his followers? They believe in a pure line of rule. Because you, K'tiri, and T'erin were conceived with a human father, M'arik believes you have no rightful place in the tribe. All the Sentries that now exist were fathered through J'anin's line. If you further dilute the purity of the line, M'arik will gain a foothold that we may not be able to overcome."

"Then I will not go back to the Tribe. Like my namesake, I shall live out my life among the humans."

"You would do that?" B'layr's voice had suddenly gone soft, sad. "You would abandon your family, all that you know, to live with a human woman?"

"I-I..." L'anin sputtered to a halt. "I would not want to give up the forest or my family," he admitted. "But what do I do about this ache in my heart? The call is real, Mother. To deny it is to deny the happiness that A'mara wanted me to find."

"Then perhaps you should spend more time with her, get to know her. Find out if you feel she is worthy of the great secret she would have to bear on behalf of yourself and the entire Ten Tribes." B'layr took his son's arm and led him over to the dining table where Jim had patiently set out the meal as he waited for his spouse and son to finish their argument.

"You would allow that?" L'anin took his seat and glanced at each of his parents in turn.

"You said it yourself," said Jim, jumping into the conversation. "You're an adult. You don't really need our permission. I think B'layr is right. You need to spend a little more time with this girl, find out if she's someone you truly wish to spend your life with."

"And remember, she only has forty or fifty years left, while your lifespan is double or triple that," B'layr reminded him. "You will be left alone again."

"My head begins to hurt," said L'anin woefully. He picked at his food, his appetite gone. "There is much to consider."

"Your father did not even know I was pregnant with you until I came to him with only one quarter left to go in my pregnancy," said B'layr. "He did not know he could get me pregnant, or what the soul bond meant. He kept my secret because sharing it would have meant disgrace and ridicule for him. And he could not bring himself to return to the forest with me, even after your birth. Our culture is as much a shock to humans as theirs is to us."

"Naomi might not take well to our simpler life," L'anin contemplated. "I must consider this and get to know her better."

"That is settled, then," B'layr said. "Try to eat your dinner. You have not eaten sufficiently while you have been in the city."

L'anin actually managed a laugh. "With your pregnancy nearly half through, your appetite has grown so that you must eat every day in order to keep up with the growing child in your womb. I do not have that biological necessity. Do not worry, Mother. I will not starve." He pushed back his chair and stood. "If I may be excused, I would like to meditate."

B'layr nodded and L'anin walked off, entering his room and closing the door behind him.

"Think you might have been a little harsh with him?" Jim asked softly. "The kid's in love."

B'layr poked at his food with his chopsticks, pushing the noodles around his plate. "I have worked with Naomi during the research portion of my paper," he confided. "She has been an excellent research assistant, but she is a bit of an 'air head', if you know what I mean."

"Ditsy?" Jim clarified with a grin.

"Ditsy? I do not know that word." B'layr gave his mate a puzzled look.

"You know, eccentric, maybe a little scatterbrained," Jim explained.

"Eccentric, yes," B'layr agreed. "It is as though she grew up in an entirely different age."

"The Age of Aquarius?" Jim supplied, his grin growing wider.

B'layr just shook his head. "I am concerned about her ability to keep our secret. It has been difficult having her do reference searches for me without telling her the reason why."

"Has she been nosing around your office? Getting into things she shouldn't?" Jim asked.

"Not that I know about." B'layr shook his head. "But she is unflagging in her curiosity."

"Better keep an eye on her."

"I intend to keep both eyes on her!" B'layr said with feeling as he smiled at their banter.

~oO0Oo~

The phone rang the next day as B'layr was coming down the stairs. He reached the device and answered while Jim stuck his head out the bathroom door.

"Ellison residence; B'layr speaking."

"My name is Sid Graham, and I'm calling from New York. Could you use a hundred thousand dollars?"

B'layr looked puzzled for an instant before answering truthfully. "No. I do not need it. Good-bye."

"No! Wait! Blair, wait, please. I'm a good friend of someone I think you know—Naomi Sandburg," said Sid, vying for B'layr's attention. "And I'd like to be your friend, as well."

"Why?"

"Because you've written a bestseller," Sid explained. "Look, I'm the senior editor of Holladay Publishing, and I'm telling you that The Elves of the Maya is going to be the next runaway, number one hit on the New York Times Bestsellers list. We're prepared to offer you a $100,000 advance for the rights to publish your novel."

"It is not a novel," B'layr clarified. And then the enormity of the situation hit home and he groaned. "What did Naomi do?"

"She e-mailed me your book. She told me that you were reticent about publishing and thought that if you got an opinion from a publisher, that you might be persuaded to go to print," Sid told the stunned elf.

"Mr. Graham, this is, um, a mistake," B'layr said, trying to control the rising panic in his gut. "Look, I never meant that to be read by anyone except my thesis advisor. You can't show it to anyone else, do you understand? Naomi sent you the draft without my permission. I can't publish that paper."

"But it's a marvelous, epic story! On a par with Tolkien," Sid argued. "Look, if you want more money—"

"It's not about the money!" B'layr all but shouted. "Look, if you want to avoid a lawsuit, I strongly suggest you destroy the copy that you have and forget you ever saw it."

"Mr. Ellison, Blair, be reasonable..."

"I'm trying to be as reasonable as I can, under the circumstances," interrupted B'layr. "This conversation is over, Mr. Graham. I strongly urge you to do as I ask and destroy your copy or you will be hearing from my lawyers." He hung up the phone and began to shake.

Jim came out of the bathroom, pulling his robe around him, and walked over to support his mate, whose knees were about to collapse. "What was that all about?"

"Naomi sent my paper to a New York publisher, and the man wants to give me a hundred thousand in advance for the rights to the book."

"No..." Jim shook his head. "He can't publish that! Not the way it is, without the 'fixes'."

"There aren't going to be any fixes," B'layr explained. "I've already spoken with Professor Sanchez and he agreed to pull this paper and help me start on another subject for my degree."

"But this publisher..."

"Sid Graham, of the Holladay Publishing Group," B'layr clarified. "I told him to destroy his copy or face a lawsuit."

"Think he bought it?"

"I have no idea." B'layr slumped in Jim's embrace, exhausted and shaking as the adrenaline drained from his system.

"Mother, Sire...?" L'anin emerged from his bedroom, drawn by the mention of Naomi's name. "Is something wrong?"

"You could say that," Jim growled at their son. "That girl you're so infatuated with, Naomi, sent B'layr's research paper to a publisher for review."

"Oh, no..." L'anin sank down on the couch next to where his parents had settled. "I did not know she did this thing. It could mean potential trouble for our People."

"You're telling me!" Jim snapped. "All hell will break loose if the existence of elves is revealed. Our comfortable way of life will come to an end, not to mention the possible extermination of the Tribes."

"What has been done to prevent it from happening?" asked L'anin.

B'layr turned to his son, his eyes filled with fear and despair. "I told Mr. Graham to destroy his copy of the book and to forget he ever read it, or face a major lawsuit. But I am not certain that is action enough to contain the problem. What if someone else has seen the manuscript?"

"So what do you suggest? What can we do?" L'anin shifted closer, reaching out to take B'layr's hand. "What is it you would have me do to help?"

B'layr looked up at Jim for several long seconds before turning to L'anin. "I think, perhaps, that you should go back to the forest and tell K'tiri; tell the Tribes what has transpired. Make sure they are ready to abandon the homestead and move deeper into the forest, if necessary. Tell them to be prepared to leave; to pack lightly, and to leave behind anything that is not a necessity. If we have to flee, it will be on short notice."

L'anin nodded. "I can do that. But what of Naomi?"

"It is too late to do anything more about her," said B'layr. "She already knows what she knows."

"Does that mean...? If she knows of our existence, may I court her?" L'anin asked hesitantly.

"You want to court the woman who may have single-handedly destroyed everything you've ever known?" Jim was astonished that L'anin still harbored feelings for the woman he now considered a traitor.

"The call of the soul bond is strong—" L'anin argued, his voice pleading.

"She would have to abandon all she knows and become a part of our way of life," said B'layr. "I am not sure that she is ready to take that step. And once the Tribes hear of her treachery, you would not be able to live in any settlement. You would be outcasts."

L'anin sighed. "It is not an easy decision to make."

"But it is yours," B'layr finished for him. "How soon do you think Steve could be ready to fly L'anin home?" asked B'layr, turning to his mate.

"I'll call and ask. The weather's been good, so the conditions in the mountains shouldn't be a problem." Jim reached for the phone and made the request while B'layr and L'anin softly discussed the possible reactions the news would get from the Tribes.

"This is just the sort of thing M'arik will grab onto to use against our family," B'layr explained. "It is best to keep the news within the family circle for as long as possible. Tell K'tiri and let her inform the Sentries. There are enough now to begin to quietly prepare the Tribes. If worse comes to worst, we will have to take the news public and deal with M'arik's wrath."

L'anin nodded. "I will do my best; but what of Naomi? Will I be able to speak with her before I go?"

"I do not think that would be wise. Your decision about her will have to wait until the crisis has passed," explained B'layr. "Can you do that? Can you wait?"

"Yes, Mother. I will do what has to be done first."

"It's all set," said Jim, turning to his family. "Stevie says he can have the helicopter ready in about an hour."

"Could you drop me off at the university on the way to the airfield?" asked B'layr. "I think I should inform Carl about what has happened and confront Naomi."

"Mother?" L'anin's head whipped around at B'layr's words.

"I only wish to know why she did this without my knowledge or permission," said B'layr. "Do not worry, I will not do anything that might jeopardize your future relations."

"Let's get this show on the road, then," Jim suggested, standing up and helping his pregnant mate off the couch.

~oO0Oo~

B'layr sat in Carl Sanchez's office, with Naomi in a seat next to him. "Why, Naomi?" B'layr asked. "I only want to know why you would do this?"

Sanchez held up a hand to silence the questions before turning to the research assistant. "I also wish to know your reasons for releasing B'layr's thesis paper to the media without permission," he began. "That was a serious breach of ethics and could cost Mr. Ellison his degree."

"I-I'm sorry," said Naomi, her voice soft. "I really only wanted to help. B'layr," she turned to the doctoral candidate with pleading eyes. "He seemed so hesitant about his paper. I thought he just didn't have enough confidence in himself. I thought that if he could get some encouragement from a real professional in the field of publishing, that maybe he would decide to go ahead with the book."

"You do realize that this is not a book, per se?" Sanchez asked. "It is a doctoral thesis, not a novel meant for popular consumption. I hadn't even approved the final draft yet, and now a publisher is calling and offering my student thousands of dollars for the rights to his paper."

"I-I guess I was wrong." Naomi hung her head. "I'm sorry. I was just so certain that I was doing a good thing."

"You've jeopardized lives, Naomi," B'layr said, his voice sharp with anger.

"How so?" Naomi looked up to ask.

"Did you really think I wrote a fictitious accounting of elves for doctoral thesis?"

Naomi's eyes widened. "Oh, my God! I didn't think about that! It was such a fascinating story!"

"One that you had no business reading in the first place!" B'layr spat. "But, yes, my People are now endangered because of your actions."

"Your people...?" Naomi gasped as B'layr pushed back his long hair, tucking the strands behind one delicately pointed ear. "Oh!" Her hand rose to cover her mouth.

"So, you see ... there is more at stake here than merely a piece of paper for my wall," B'layr concluded.

Naomi began shaking her head slowly. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know—"

"We understand that, Ms. Sandburg," said Sanchez, "but it doesn't absolve you from the deed. Besides endangering a whole group of people, which is by far the more grievous offense, your actions could well be an embarrassment to this institution."

Naomi hung her head again, sorrow rising up inside her as she began to grasp the enormity of what she'd done. "Is there anything I can do to help make this right?"

"If you have any influence at all with the publisher that you contacted, urge him to return the manuscript and refrain from any public comment." Sanchez nailed the young woman with a steely glare. "And I'm afraid there will have to be some sort of punishment, as well. You are suspended for the rest of the school year, pending a review of the Board of Directors of this university." He paused to make sure that what he had said had sunk in. "You're dismissed, Ms. Sandburg."

Naomi rose, pausing to rest a hand on B'layr's shoulder. "I wish I could take back what I've done. I'm sorry."

"There is little more you can do, except attempt to help contain the problem," B'layr told her.

"May I speak with you later, in private?"

B'layr took a deep breath, considering his feelings about the request. "I'll call to make an appointment with you, once I've had a chance to think things through," he promised.

Naomi nodded and turned to leave. Once the door was closed, B'layr turned back to his advisor. "What now?"

"We wait and see what happens," Sanchez replied with a sigh.

~oO0Oo~

"L'anin! What is wrong?" K'tiri opened the door to her brother's frantic knocking and took in his disheveled appearance.

"I have potentially troubling news," L'anin replied, breathing heavily from his run through the woods. "Mother's dissertation about our people got leaked to a publisher. If the news should go to the media, our People will be exposed."

"Come in, come in!" K'tiri ushered her brother inside and quickly closed the door. "This is bad news, indeed. If M'arik or his followers get wind of this, it could mean an uprising. They already hate the fact that the elven line has been 'diluted' by humans. This exposure could be the final log on the pyre."

"Nothing is certain as yet," L'anin told her. "But we need to be prepared to move out quickly; to go deeper into the forest, and to leave behind all that is not necessary to our survival."

"The People have grown accustomed to the comforts of the long houses," K'tiri said with a sigh. "It will not go down well to start living in the open and sheltering in caves again."

"We may not have a choice," L'anin said with a sigh. "Let us hope it does not come to that."

~oO0Oo~

"I do not know what more can be done for now," said B'layr.

Jim watched his soulmate pace the loft with nervous energy. After the meeting with Sanchez, there had been little to do but come home and wait it out. "There isn't anything you can do," he replied. "But at the rate you're going there, we'll have to replace flooring. You're wearing a groove in the hardwood."

B'layr came to slouch down next to Jim. The Sentry wrapped an arm around his partner and pulled B'layr's head down to his shoulder. "I know I should not worry, but I cannot help it," B'layr sighed. "Ooooh...!" He put a hand over his stomach and grimaced.

"What's the matter, Sweetheart?" asked Jim, suddenly more concerned over his partner's physical health than his mental well being.

"Just a cramp," B'layr replied.

"At this stage, nothing is 'just a cramp'," Jim said softly, slipping out from beneath his partner and laying B'layr out on the couch. Getting down on his knees beside his mate, he began a gentle massage around the distended abdomen. "I'm not taking any chances with you. You may have gotten a new womb, but you're only two years younger than A'mara was."

"It is not serious, my heart," B'layr countered, and then sighed. "But it does feel good—very good."

"You need to relax. You've been under a lot of pressure recently between writing your thesis, A'mara's illness and death, and now this leak of your paper," said Jim.

B'layr nodded. "Easier said than done, however. I cannot help but worry."

The phone chose that moment to ring, interrupting their conversation. Jim reached over and grabbed the receiver off the end table. "Ellison residence, Jim speaking."

"May I speak with B'layr, please? This is Chancellor Edwards."

"Of course, just a moment." Jim covered the receiver with his hand and mouthed, "Chancellor Edwards."

"What does she want?" B'layr whispered, his voice tight with nerves. Jim shook his head and shrugged, handing over the phone. "Hello, this is B'layr."

"B'layr? Chancellor Edwards," she introduced herself. "I need you to come down to my office as soon as possible. How quickly can you get here?"

"About twenty minutes?" B'layr replied. "Would that be all right?"

"Yes, of course. But come as quickly as you can."

"What is this about?"

"We'll discuss it when you get here."

The Chancellor hung up the phone and B'layr stared blankly at Jim for a few moments. "She wants me in her office as soon as we can get there."

"What do you suppose is up?" Jim asked. B'layr just shook his head and swung his feet off the couch. Jim stood and helped pull his partner to his feet.

~oO0Oo~

The Administrative building was a hive of activity. As B'layr fought his way through the crowd, followed by Jim, a microphone was shoved in his face. "B'layr Ellison ... what can you tell us about the elves?"

"What?" B'layr's eyes opened wide in shock as the question sunk in.

"The Elves of the Maya tells the supposedly true tale of real elves in the New World," the reporter continued to press. "What do you have to say about them?"

"Nothing." B'layr waved a hand in negation. "No comment."

"Mr. Ellison! Mr. Ellison!" the reporter continued to call as B'layr disappeared deeper into the crowd.

"Leave him alone," Jim growled, pushing his way passed the reporter and into the relative quiet of the building.

They made their way to the Chancellor's office, only to be greeted by bright flashbulbs as cameras went off from every direction.

"What's going on here?" B'layr looked around the crowded office. The Chancellor stood behind her desk, flanked by a middle-aged man in a suit and Naomi. Around the room were more reporters with cameras and microphones.

"B'layr, welcome!" Chancellor Edwards greeted him. "We're so glad you could come. I'd like you to meet Sid Graham of Holladay Publishing. He flew in all the way from New York to talk with you."

"B'layr, despite your misgivings and your pleas to drop the idea, I'm determined to publish your book. I am in a position to offer you one million dollars from Holladay Publishing. I've even fielded offers from several studios for the rights to turn your masterpiece into a movie!"

"A movie?" B'layr was stunned. "But you cannot..."

"There's more," Sid continued, ignoring B'layr's shocked plea. "But I agreed to let the TV crew handle the rest of it."

"No. Please, stop." B'layr raised his hands, warding off the intrusion of the microphones. "Please. Stop."

"Would you say that you're overwhelmed, Mr. Ellison?" a reporter asked as he shoved a microphone in B'layr's face.

"I have nothing to say to you," B'layr answered coldly. "This interview is over."

"But..." the reporter sputtered.

"Oh, B'layr, I'm so sorry about all this," Naomi said, coming around the desk to grab B'layr's hand. "I didn't know Sid was planning to fly out with this offer. When I found out, I had hoped to be able to talk with you privately first, but it just got out of hand."

"You can say that again!" B'layr growled, pushing his way out of the room, followed by Jim.

Naomi hurried to catch up, but Jim thrust out an arm halting her progress. "That's far enough. You started all this, and now I'm telling you to leave B'layr alone. You've caused enough grief."

"But—" Naomi stopped her advance and watched B'layr leave, tears tracking down her cheeks.

Jim muscled his way through the crowd, with B'layr following quickly behind. Ignoring the shouted questions, they hurried to the truck and got in. With barely a backward glance, Jim backed out of his parking spot and headed for the street.

"We need to get word to the Tribes," Jim said as he navigated the traffic on the drive home.

B'layr sat silently, staring out the window as he processed his thoughts. "We need to do more than that," he said, finally. "We need to do something to contain this. If we don't, no amount of running is going to make a difference."

"But the word is out," said Jim. "What can you do to stop it now? The media will have a frenzy with this; even with the little bit they have to go on."

"I do not know," B'layr said, shaking his head. "But I have to do something."

~oO0Oo~

That night, B'layr lay in bed, unable to get to sleep. Jim stroked a hand down his bare arm, trying to distract B'layr from his thoughts.

"You need to sleep, babe. If you don't get some rest, you're not going to be up to the fight," Jim coaxed his lover.

"I can't stop thinking of ways we could fix this; make it all go back to how it was before."

"That can't be done," Jim argued softly. "What's done is done. The media has picked up the story. The best we can hope for now is damage control."

"Damage control..." B'layr's voice drifted off as he considered the idea. A smile began to curl the corners of his mouth, although the sparkle never reached his eyes. He sighed, and then leaned forward to press his lips against Jim's. "Make love to me. Help me to forget for a little while."

"You sure...?"

B'layr nodded. "Yeah. It will help relax me; get my mind off things."

Jim gently rolled B'layr onto his back and straddled him, showering kisses over the beloved face, trailing kisses down the long neck to the nipples nearly hidden in the thatch of curly hair on B'layr's chest. His lover arched beneath him, groaning in pleasure as the little nubs hardened. Jim teased the flesh with his teeth and tongue until B'layr began thrashing, thrusting his hips to make contact between his hardened cock and Jim's stomach.

Releasing the nipples, Jim slipped down B'layr's body until his face hovered over the swell of the elf's abdomen. He gently kissed the sensitive bellybutton before laying an ear against the taut flesh and listening to the rapid swish of the baby's heart in counterpoint to the louder, slower beat of B'layr's heart. His mate groaned at the delay, his body tense with the need for completion and release.

Jim took pity, knowing there would be time enough to enjoy the child, and slipped lower to take the weeping cock into his mouth. One hand cupped the heavy sac of B'layr's testicles, kneading the small globes as he licked and tortured the quivering shaft of his lover's penis. B'layr's cry surely disturbed the neighbors, but neither man nor elf cared at that moment.

It was all B'layr could do to keep from thrusting his hips and burying himself in the heat of Jim's throat. He could feel the tension climb until he teetered on the brink of his orgasm.

With his free hand, Jim reached down to flick a finger across the tight opening to B'layr's body. The intimate touch was enough. B'layr came with a loud cry, shooting the cream of his completion down Jim's throat. When the spasms of his orgasm finally ended, the elf collapsed on the bed, a sweaty heap of spent flesh.

Jim slipped off to one side and gently rolled B'layr over until he was facing outward. Spooning up behind his mate, Jim's cock slipped easily into the elf's body. His thrusts were gentle and shallow, mindful of B'layr's current condition. His left hand stroked the swell of B'layr's abdomen, still amazed after all these years at the miracle his mate created over and over again from their love. His own climax was much quieter—just a shudder and release—but no less satisfying than his soulmate's. Content, he allowed himself to drift to sleep, still connected to his lover.

B'layr lay quietly in his soulmate's embrace until Jim's flaccid penis finally slipped from his body. He gently untangled himself from his lover's embrace and slipped out of bed. Tiptoeing down the stairs, he went into the bathroom for a quick sponge bath, knowing that a full shower would wake his mate.

After he was clean, he went to the small room in which L'anin had stayed while visiting and pulled out a pencil and paper.

~oO0Oo~

Jim came downstairs the next morning to find B'layr sitting at the table going over some handwritten notes.

"You're up early."

B'layr looked up and smiled. "Yeah, I just could not sleep after all. I had this idea—"

"What idea might that be, Einstein?"

"A way to maybe make things better. Jim, we need to call a press conference at Rainier."

"And just what do you have in mind, if I might ask?" Jim turned a skeptical gaze on his mate.

B'layr shrugged. "I would rather not say at the moment. I am still processing the whole idea."

~oO0Oo~

Later that morning, B'layr and Jim stood in the auditorium of the university, nervously eyeing the mob of reporters, microphones, and television cameras that were present. At B'layr's request, Naomi was there as well.

B'layr had dressed in a suit, tying back his hair while leaving his ears covered. He played with the paper he held in his hand, nervous about the reaction his solution would bring. Taking a deep breath, B'layr smiled and nodded to Jim, and then stepped up to the podium.

One of the reporters queued the television camera and spoke into the lens. "We now go live to the press conference at Rainier University. We understand that doctoral candidate B'layr Ellison is about to make a statement regarding his groundbreaking paper, The Elves of the Maya."

B'layr shifted uncomfortably. Masses of the media surrounded him—all eyes were trained in his direction. His fingers dusted over the single sheet of paper holding his official statement. Clearing his throat, he finally looked up into the cold eyes of the cameras pointed his way.

"Good morning. Thank you all for coming. I just have a short statement prepared for the media." He stopped to swallow the lump forming in his throat and then hurried on, before he could lose his courage. "In a world where information can be passed along with a few simple keystrokes, rumor and urban legend have become as common as the truth. My thesis, The Elves of the Maya, is in fact just such an urban legend. While my paper does quote legitimate source material and is based on a personal trip to the Yucatan to verify facts of the Maya, the story of the journey and captivity of elves into the Mayan culture is nothing more than an elaborate fairy tale written to entertain children at bedtime. As everyone knows, elves do not exist. I apologize for any misunderstanding, and hope that the university and the world at large can forgive me for the deception. Thank you."

Ducking and turning his face from the hundreds of flashbulbs, B'layr hurried off the stage and into Jim's arms.

"Oh, God! I am so glad to be done with that!" B'layr sighed.

"I don't think it's quite done yet," Jim whispered, pointing to Chancellor Edwards who was making her determined way over to where the couple stood.

The Chancellor didn't mince words in her anger. Giving B'layr a hard look, she made her feelings known. "You're an embarrassment to this university. I want your office cleared out by Friday, and I don't want to see your face on this campus again."

"Yes, ma'am," B'layr said quietly as the Chancellor walked off in a huff. He turned to Jim. "There's not much in the office to clean out, just my laptop and a few folders of research. I would like to stop there and pick them up, then we can be done with this place once and for all."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Naomi asked, walking up to stand next to the couple.

"Haven't you already done enough?" Jim growled at her.

"It is all right, Jim," B'layr said softly. "Leave it be. Naomi, I think you should come with us." When Jim opened his mouth to comment, B'layr interrupted. "She knows, Jim. It would be better if she comes with us." He turned and started down the hallway.

"To your office?" Naomi asked, trailing after the two men.

"No, to our home," B'layr clarified, glancing over his shoulder at the young woman. "I know L'anin wants you there."

"But will anyone else?" Jim interjected. "She did, after all, start this mess."

"She did it will all good intentions," said B'layr, coming to Naomi's defense. "What she did was wrong, but she meant no harm. What is done is done, and now it is time to move forward."

~oO0Oo~

The bonfire glowed brightly as the Ten Tribes met in council.

"This is exactly what happens when humans and elves interact!" M'arik exclaimed. "Look at the mess we are in now. Our existence has been revealed, and the humans will come looking to exterminate us!"

"They will not," B'layr argued. "I told them that everything I wrote about the elves was a lie. I brought shame upon myself, but it was not undeserved. I should not have written that paper in the first place."

"I am sorry to say this, but my Bearer is correct. It was his paper, not Naomi's actions, that endangered us. And B'layr is a full-blooded elf. You cannot blame the humans," K'tiri argued. "With the coming of J'anin, our Tribes have grown in strength. We have the Sentry gift again, and it has served us well. We do not hunger during the Cold Times and we have adequate protection of our borders. Without the influence of the humans, that would not have been possible."

"It is easy for you to say, daughter of J'anin, half-breed elf!" M'arik spat. "My uncle was a great chief. The Tribe prospered under his rule."

"But the Ten Tribes have been united as one, making all tribes stronger, with the coming of K'tiri as our Chieftess," H'alfin pointed out. "She has taken only elves as her lovers, and has therefore given the Tribes strong, elfin children."

"That may be so," M'arik countered. "But now L'anin wishes to take Naomi as his mate. If they produce children, those offspring will be more human than elf!"

"They will be raised among our People, taught our ways," said L'anin. "They would not betray us."

Jim turned to the dissident elf. "If you ask me, none of your arguments hold water, M'arik. The People have only gotten stronger in the past fifty or so years. You can't deny that life is more comfortable now."

"I do not ask you," M'arik spat.

"I do not wish to leave this camp or the long houses," said S'kur. "I agree with J'anin. Life has become much more comfortable since he came and shared his wealth and knowledge with us."

"Well said, mate of the Chieftess!" M'arik voice dripped sarcasm. "Does no one else see the danger to the Tribes that having human blood among us has brought? I say we dethrone J'anin's half-breed line and put in its place a full-blood, one who is descended from the rulers of the Tribes."

"And who would that be, M'arik? You?" asked B'layr, throwing the elf's sarcasm back in his face. "M'aris was a wise ruler of the Wolf Tribe. He knew when the prophecy of the Bearer Elf was fulfilled, and he turned over leadership of the Tribe to its proper authority. K'tiri rules by right of inheritance—more surely than you ever could!"

"If I must, I will fight to take back that which belongs to me!" M'arik said, shaking a fist at the Chieftess. Several of the elves rose in defense, standing between K'tiri and the angry M'arik. Jim and L'anin flanked the elf, grabbing his arms and holding him steady.

"Enough!" K'tiri raised her voice to be heard above the roar of noise that had ensued at M'arik's threat. "Elf will not raise weapon against elf! Any who do not agree with my rule have my leave to go. Follow M'arik and form your own tribe. Go where you will, do what you think you must, but leave the rest of us in peace."

M'arik shrugged off the hands that held him and turned to walk into the darkness. Nearly thirty more elves rose to follow. "I choose to take my followers home to the Old World."

"And how you do propose to get there?" T'erin asked. Until now, K'tiri's twin had sat quietly, observing the scene, ready to assist his family if need be.

"I do not know, but we will find a way," M'arik answered.

Jim approached, digging into the pockets of his jeans for his wallet. He drew out five one hundred dollar bills, money he had left from their recent time in Cascade. "Take this and head north to the cold country known to men as Alaska. Travel to the Cape Prince of Wales on the Bering Strait and ask for Jack. He can fly you across the water. After that, head west through Siberia and the Asian continent until you reach Romania. You will find D'rou there. He is Chieftain of the Old Ones, the original tribe. He will welcome you, as he welcomed us."

M'arik reached out and took the cash, giving the gray-green bills a skeptical look. "Why do you do this?"

"Because it is better than having quarreling amongst the Tribes," Jim replied honestly. "Don't think this means I like you, or trust you, because I don't. I'm simply trying to do what I've always done—see to the good of the Tribes."

"Harrumph!" M'arik snorted, taking the money and turning sharply on his heel. Raising a hand, he signaled for the others to follow.

"What happens next?" Naomi asked softly, directing her question to L'anin.

The young Sentry sighed, his eyes scanning the group. "For tonight, we sleep. Tomorrow we will have to decide whether to stay here or go with those who wish to move away."

"And what about me?" Naomi looked around at the gathered elves, some of whom glanced her way and frowned. "I don't think they like me very much."

"If we are to be together, we may have to live apart from the others," said L'anin.

"Why couldn't we just go back to Cascade and live there?" Naomi glanced at the deep forest and shuddered. "I'm not so sure I'd want to live out here forever."

"I look too much like my Bearer," L'anin told her. "Until the fervor over his paper has died down, it would not be wise to be seen in the city."

"And how long will that be?"

L'anin shook his head. "You know more about the ways of your people than I do. Come, you will sleep at the cabin with me tonight." He took Naomi's hand and led her away from the bonfire.

~oO0Oo~

The next morning, the pale February sun filtered through the cabin's windows, casting a diluted light over its occupants. L'anin awoke to find the place next to him in bed was empty. "Naomi?" he called softly, casting out his senses to detect the young woman's presence. A rustle from the neighboring bed drew his attention.

"L'anin?" B'layr struggled to push himself up into a sitting position to better see his son. "What is the matter?"

"Naomi got up last night to relieve herself, but she has not returned," L'anin explained. "I am concerned. She is not familiar with this place; she may have become disoriented and gotten lost."

"How lost could she get?" Jim chimed in, sitting up and wrapping an arm around his soulmate. "The outhouse is only a short distance away."

"I will go looking." L'anin got out of bed and pulled on his clothes. "It is not good for Naomi to be out unescorted. Many still see her as the cause of our troubles."

"I'll come with you." Jim leaned over to give B'layr a morning kiss, and then slipped out of bed, dressing quickly.

After the two Sentries had left the cabin, B'layr got out of bed and dressed, and then set about brewing a breakfast tea that was a favorite of L'anin's. He found himself gazing out the window at the winter shroud of snow and shivering. Something was very, very wrong.

~oO0Oo~

A cry brought Jim's head around and he focused his attention in the direction of the sound. "L'anin?" he called, but got no reply. Turning, he began to run in the direction from which the cry had come.

Their search had taken them nearly a quarter of a mile from the cabin, much closer to the long house. As Jim broke through the underbrush into a small clearing the sight that met his eyes brought him up short. L'anin was hunched over near a large boulder often used as a ceremonial alter. Leaning against the stone was a body.

Jim rushed to his son's side.

"Why?" L'anin sobbed. "Why would anyone do this? She meant no harm."

Although it had been many years since he had been a detective with Cascade's Major Crimes Unit, Jim's training was an asset to him now. He reached out to close Naomi's dead stare and then began a careful examination of the body. "Her neck has been broken," he said softly.

"Who would do such a thing?" L'anin asked, choking back his tears. "For centuries, there has been no crime like this among our People."

"M'arik," Jim growled, spotting a hundred dollar bill near a set of footprints leading away from the scene.

L'anin looked up sharply, anger replacing his sorrow. "He will pay! I will kill him with my own hands!"

"No! I won't allow more bloodshed," Jim said sharply. "When M'arik is caught, he will be dealt with in a way the Tribes see fit."

"I will go now; find him." L'anin stood and turned toward the retreating tracks.

Jim reached out and placed a staying hand on his son's shoulder. "It has been hours since Naomi died. M'arik will be long gone from here."

"Then I will follow and bring him back."

"There are more pressing needs for now," Jim told his son. "We must inform your sister and prepare a funeral pyre for Naomi."

"And then I will go," L'anin stubbornly insisted.

"The needs of the Tribes come first," Jim reminded him. "Let's get Naomi's body back to the cabin. After that, we can inform K'tiri and prepare the pyre. Any decisions on what's to be done can wait.

~oO0Oo~

B'layr backed away from the blazing pyre, having finished his ritual blessing, and wrapped an arm around his grieving son. "Do not hold anger in your heart, L'anin. It will only eat away at you, leaving you empty and bitter. Naomi would not have wanted that, and A'mara most surely did not. Justice will come in its own time."

"But she was so young.... What she did was wrong, but she did not deserve to die," L'anin replied softly, a tear escaping to trail down his cheek.

"No, she did not. But more pressing matters now affect the entire Tribe. M'arik will be punished, but first we must see to the safety of all our People," B'layr reminded him.

Jim walked up to his family, his face set with grim determination. "K'tiri has ordered that the Tribes search out a new camp and move as soon as possible. She needs all available Sentries to scout for a new place to settle. We must move higher up the mountain, deeper into the forest."

"I will come." L'anin turned his back on the pyre and joined his Sire. The protection of the Tribes came before all else, and as a Sentry it was his duty to see his People safely sheltered. But in his heart he vowed that Naomi's death would not go unavenged. M'arik would pay for what he had done....

THE END