"They're really all sold out?" Ollie said to Fallon with wide, disbelieving eyes. She'd just informed him that all of the pieces"all eight of them"he'd given to her to broker had been sold and she was asking if there was anything else he could give her. Apparently works by OH Granger were highly sought after pieces in the Rhy'Din art world. The problem with all of this was the fact that there were only two finished pieces in the loft, and he wasn't certain either of them were for sale. He tried to explain this to Fallon, tried explaining that with all the wedding and honeymoon and baby preparations, he hadn't had much time to do anything but some preliminary sketches for up-coming pieces, but there was a dog barking somewhere near-by and it kept interrupting his thoughts.

There was a furious pounding at Fallon's office door and one of her gallery employees stuck her head in and told Ms Quinn that there was a strange dog sitting in front of the gallery that refused to be run off. Ollie, who had a strange feeling in his gut, something that told him perhaps he should go and take a look at this dog, stood and went out into the gallery proper. Spying the dog, he gasped in recognition. The dog was Loki, Piper's lovable mutt. Ollie went forward, stepping outside and looking around for Piper. When he didn't see her, he looked down at the dog, who was looking up at him with something akin to urgency in his eyes. "Where is Piper, Loki?" Ollie felt slightly ridiculous, talking to an animal who couldn't talk back, but the dog surprised him by gently taking Ollie's hand in his mouth and tugging him towards the Marketplace.

With an awkward smile and wave for Fallon, Ollie allowed the dog to lead him. "Is Timmy down the well?" he asked with only a slightly hysterical giggle. Where the hell was Piper" Where was the dog taking him' Was Piper okay' Was the baby coming" Ollie picked up his pace a little, jogging now, which seemed to please the dog.

Then they were suddenly in the middle of the Marketplace and Ollie had to keep his hand wrapped around Loki's collar for fear of losing him in the crowds. The dog took him on a circuitous route to the stall of a fabric vendor. Ollie spotted the crown of Piper's chestnut-coloured hair and he thought for a moment he might faint with relief. Then he saw the twin expressions of horror and worry on the faces of the vendors and the bottom dropped out of his world again.

Leaving the dog behind, his long, stork-like legs ate up the ground as he rushed forward, coming to a sliding halt on his knees at Piper's side. She was pale, deathly, frighteningly pale, but he couldn't see any blood on her. "Piper, sweetheart," he said, his hands moving up and down her arms, partially to comfort her and partially to reassure himself that she was all right. "What's wrong?" The dolt didn't even for one moment consider the possibilities that his time as Papa was at hand.

It had taken her forever to fall asleep that night. She tossed and turned, trying desperately to get comfortable despite the obvious swell that arched her belly, drawing the covers and pillows about her head severely in an attempt to drown beneath them. Some nights were easy and some nights were hard, and this one definitely had proven to be the latter.

Once she had drifted into slumber it hadn't gotten any easier. She had dreamt of thick forests and dark shadows, looming everywhere, watching her as she aimlessly traversed a winding path. Dressed in only her night gown, her bare feet were bloody as she strode across the jagged rocks that littered the forest floor, each step birthing new pain with the impending slice of flesh. Claret tracks appeared in her wake and yet her focus lay before her, on the silver light that lingered ahead.

Am I dead"

It seemed like a silly notion to consider but, thanks to one of Alaric's stupid magic books he left lying around (or she curiously dug out of his pack, whichever), she'd recently read about certain cultures that believed the dead crossed a tunnel leading to the afterlife heralded by a light. The forest wasn't exactly a conduit, but the point wasn't lost.

The distant murmur of what initially sounded like howling wind became more prominent with each agonizing step, causing legs to tremble as the growing pain sapped her strength. As the sound grew more indistinct, however, it became clear that it wasn't a bay of breezes at all, but instead the gentle staccato of infant sobs cresting the sounds of the wood to assail her senses, as well as her emotions. Instantly Nina felt compelled to rush forth and cradle this tormented babe, if only she could find it. Her steps increased, as did her lacerations, closing in on that sterling illumination.

Just as she reached the apex of this mystical glow she tumbled to the ground with a scream, the numerous slashes across her feet simply too much to endure. Palms met the same fate as she landed upon all fours, gashed asunder and pouring blood upon dirt and stone. Her outcry had stemmed a desperate wail from the unseen baby, spurring her to crawl into that light, reaching between pads, searching and seeking.

She found a hand, though not of a baby, but a man"

"a Fae man.

"No?" She whispered. Paralyzed with fear, she stared with wide blue eyes into the abyssal, predatory gaze that was so intimately familiar, her breath hitched tightly inside her throat. Her red hands smeared across the perfect porcelain of his grasp and yet he seemed unbothered, his focus solely on her.

"It's time." He sang; the wicked nuance of his voice entwined with melodious joy. "It's time to begin."

"Wha?" The terror of his nearness stifled her thoughts, her words, leaving her mouth agape and her eyes entranced horrifically upon the serpentine grin that spread his sensuous mouth. "Get"away?" She managed, though it was nowhere near as forceful as intended, instead sounding weak and broken.

Through the haze of light behind the Fae emerged two resolute silhouettes; one large and one small. They moved forth just beyond the right shoulder, stealing her attention with a peripheral glance, their advancement bringing them clearly into view.

The tall man was Alaric, her brother, handsome and strong as ever.

The smaller figure was a boy no older than ten at most, with long blonde hair that framed angular, alluring features. There was obviously some Granger blood within him " though this heritage was challenged by the sharp point at the tips of his ears.

Nina didn't need an explanation to understand who stood before her. "Yo"you."

"Me, mother." He answered, his voice an echo of the Fae's with a soprano tinge. "It's time." He reiterated, stepping away from Alaric to approach where she knelt. ?"for my arrival."

Tears welled in her eyes with his pending steps, her head shaking slowly back and forth as though to deny the very sight of him. "No"I "no, I don't want it."

"I know." He whispered soothingly, a distorting shift replacing the Fae man who had held her hand with that of the child, their places swapped as he now stood before her and the elder stood at Alaric's side. ", and yet that changes nothing."

Her head fell, only to be caught by his finger beneath her chin, her eyes brought back to his. "I'll see you soon, mother." He said as he leaned forward and pushed his cold, haunted lips against her brow.

She closed her eyes at the touch, wishing to escape.

Lips withdrew and the hand that held hers departed to find her shoulder, and then, without warning, shoved her to the ground.

She fell backwards slowly, a reverse bloom of sorts that let her look upon the three sets of eyes that watched her decline. She hit the ground, though instead of finding the harsh embrace of the jagged rocks she splashed across the landscape as if it were water " diving beneath, completely submerged. Completely consumed.

And then...

She sat straight up amongst a storm of sheets and pillows, screaming as she looked between her legs, watching as her sheets were quickly saturated with her body's submission to pregnancy.

"ALARIC!!?

It had been a long night of preparations and he felt as if he'd only just slipped into a restless sleep when Nina's piercing scream seared through his slumber.

He didn't remember launching himself from his bed. In fact, he had no recollection of getting to his bedroom door before he had came fully awake.

The thunder of his usual soft measured steps pounded down the hall that separated him from his sister and her door was splintered from its frame as he took no time to mess with the handle.

The sight of her, convulsing in a contraction, her precious features screwed up in agony and pain had him blanching into a pale white version of himself. Fear, belly-dropping and ice cold in his veins, assaulted him and for a moment he felt his knees weaken, "Nina."

Her name was a protest. A baritone groan of despair. They weren't ready. He hadn't found the midwife yet. The crib was just delivered. His friends had only just discovered solutions that could protect the baby.

He stood frozen. Unmoving. Until the next gut-wrenchign scream tore from her slender throat and then he was there at her side, uncertain and trembling hands reaching to offer a comfort he had no idea how to provide.

"Nina-sweet. I'm here. I'm here." The words became a mantra as his normally strong and steady hands shook against her flesh.

The sway of the dual pendulum.

One arm sterling, the other soot, back and forth, swinging with a dwindled pace.

For months they had shifted to and fro, sweeping in opposing motion, measuring time " its winding death.

Recumbent upon a throne of sturdy branches, the Dark Hunter unveiled torpid scrutiny unto the Faery quartet who frolicked for his amusement, a bored regard evident in the heavy hang of almond shaped lids. He cared little for their attempted merriment; which started as a simple soir"e before descending into the debauch depths of a guileful orgy, nuance and innuendo replacing flagrant endeavors.

How boring they were to his dark gaze: one bequeathed of actual carnal episodes amongst the court for most of his life. As they progressed through their lascivious performance he considered pouncing upon and relieving them of their miserable existence. How easy it would have been with the length of his mighty harrow rod completing his arm. But even that seemed a trivial pleasure as the precipitous deaths bestowed upon them would lack the complexity of his truest elation.

No, alas, he simply sat back and watched them.

It was a marvelous chime that brought him out of his seat, the show forgotten as he moved for where the pendulum stood. Spectacularly he stared, unwilling to release the sight of those arms in case they would instead vanish from sight.

Raised, no longer in sway, but paralleled perfectly in lingering erection.

"It's time." He uttered with a sinister grin, the lurking doom behind his bejeweled gaze just scarcely evident.

Another turn and he was swiftly off, departing through bronze arches as flesh unfurled and limbs recoiled, replaced instead by dark scales and a slithering shaft, serpentine and deadly.

With an inhuman gait he sliced through the heavy forests just south of Rhy'din, the gates his first destination"

"the newborns his second.

With one last heart-breaking push, the baby—his baby—slid into the world. "Here, now," he said indignantly when the vendor smacked her—Oh, God, I have a daughter!-on the rump, but once the baby started squalling like a drowned kitten, he understood the necessity of the action.

He collapsed next to Piper, faint with relief and wonder and exertion. The way he was panting and trembling, one might think he'd been the one doing all the work, instead of this beautiful, magnificent creature at his side, his wife, his love. "You did it, Dove," he answered Piper, not bothering to keep the tears from his eyes now. "She's here and oh, God, Piper. She's beautiful."

He watched as the vendor cleaned up and swaddled his daughter—their daughter—in what must have been an entire bolt of petal pink silk before handing her gently over to Piper. Ollie reached out a sensitive, long-fingered hand and tentatively, as if she might shatter upon impact, touched the tiny, damp head. He thought she had Piper's expressive mouth and the shape of her cheekbones, too. "She's so beautiful," he said again, this time with awe.

The phone in his pocket erupted and he fumbled it out, answering it distractedly. Then he grinned and announced to Fallon Quinn, who'd been phoning to make sure that everything was all right, "I'm a father! It's a girl!" He crowed loudly, and then fiercely hugged his wife and then laid a kiss against his daughter's brow.