((Contains reference to adult situations.))

As winter finally gave way to spring, Avalon came into bloom. Not merely in its rich greenery and fragrant flowers, but alive with life. With the bitter weather no longer restricting activity, the town bustled with people going about their work and their play, centered upon the Temple and the Abbey with the fondness of everyday affection. Carts and horses traveled the streets, vendors sold their wares, and in the Institute where the Templars made their home, the scholar began to appear from the warm rooms where they had spent their winter, bent over books, walking blinking into the sunlight. There were sparring matches in the courtyard once again, watched by the Master at Arms, and around the cloister could be found the learned and the learning, singly or in groups. Each of them lifted their heads to smile and nod in greeting as the Lady's Champion and her Priestess walked by, their steps taking them toward the great library, where they had been assured of finding someone they had not seen in several months.

The Lady's Champion and her Priestess were dressed like those around them, in the simple garb that always reminded Rhys of a Renaissance Faire. He was always struck by how friendly and welcoming the people here were, acknowledging his and Nat's presence with a friendly smile and a respectful nod, unlike New York where they tried to blend with the crowd and avoid notice. He wondered what the Lady's Handmaidens would say to see their Priestess in a family way, and the thought made him smile with pride and joy and just a little bit of mischief. "It's funny how at home I feel here now," Rhys told his wife as they strolled arm and arm through the streets of Avalon on their way to the library.

"You get to wear a sword openly, of course you feel at home," she teased him softly, hugging his arm with a smile as they stepped through the grey stone gates of the Institute to the clang of metal against metal. They arrived just in time to see a particularly ungainly man with flaxen yellow hair take a rather humiliating fall, made worse by the laugh as the Master at Arms slapped his rear end with the flat of his own sword. Nat smothered a snicker of her own. "Who in God's name gave Yves a sword?"

Rhys narrowed his eyes at the scene taking place before them, unsure whether to feel sorry for poor Yves or laugh at loud at his situation. In the end, sympathy won out over amusement. "Good question, but more importantly, why?" he asked curiously as they watched from a small distance, Rhys' hand resting lightly on the pommel of his own sword that hung from his waist.

"He probably asked," Nat told him, watching as Yves got up, adjusted his spectacles, and charged again, only to go head over heels into the dust once more. "He seems to think that it is not enough, what he does here. He thinks he will never be a true Templar until he can fight like one. Every few months, he asks the Master at Arms to teach him, and every few months, he has to give up because he's aching too much to go on." She smiled gently at the scene. "And yet there is no one else on Avalon who knows what he knows about magic and its mastery."

"He's not learning anything," Rhys pointed out as they watched. "He's just getting his *ss handed to him." He thought if he'd been given the chance, he might be able to teach the mage a thing or two or maybe....A thought popped into his head, but he kept it to himself for the moment. "It just takes practice and perseverance," he remarked. "I could teach him, if I had the time."

"Well, perhaps you can make the time," she said softly. "After we see our brother and make him take us to wherever our sister is hiding today." With a gentle laugh, she gave his arm a tug, drawing him away from the sparring matches and into the Great library itself, with its tall ceiling open to the sky to allow the trees that grew within access to the light from the sun above.

"This really is a magical place," he said as she drew him into the Great Library where he stood once more in awe of the place, just as he was the first time he'd been here and every time since. He felt the first hint of nerves at the thought of seeing his sister and her spouse again. Had it only been a few months since they'd last been here, since they'd witnessed the wedding vows that now bound the pair together" It had been cold and snow-covered then, quiet and peaceful with winter, and now, it was like the place had come to life again, the snow melting away with the arrival of spring, renewing the world and bringing it once again alive with life. "Actually, I was thinking maybe Zach could give him a few lessons." He'd been an angel once; it stood to reason that he knew how to wield a sword.

Nat paused, a little surprised by the suggestion. "Do you think he would?" she asked curiously, her voice lowered out of habit, despite the fact that one man's booming laughter was helping them to pinpoint who they were looking for. Sir Lionel, Grand Master of the Order of the Temple of Avalon, could be found leaning against one of the great trunks that rose toward the ceiling surrounding the entry to the Treasury, slapping his thigh as he laughed at something Zachariel had either said or done. Evidently the former angel had managed to win the Grand Master's favor in the past months.

Zachariel more than likely didn't know what he'd said or done to amuse the Grand Master, but it was better the man was laughing at him than shouting at him.

"I think Zach would have a hard time saying no to anyone who asked for a favor," Rhys replied, smiling as he heard the Grand Master before he saw him. "Sir Lionel!" he called. "I trust you are treating my brother-in-law with kindness," he said, with a teasing smirk.

"Ah, my Lord Champion!" Sir Lionel straightened up, his grin wide beneath his whiskers, and bowed to Rhys and Nat formally before seizing Rhys' hand in a firm grip. "Welcome back to Avalon," he told them both warmly, releasing Rhys to sweep Nat up into an embrace that ended abruptly with a squawk as he looked down at her. "You're pregnant!"

Nat laughed cheerfully, patting the swell at her waist with a grin. "Ah, so you are not getting short-sighted in your old age, then."

There was a time when Rhys might have replied with a snarky remark or gotten jealous of the older man's open affection for his wife, but that time had long since passed. Lionel was arguably the closest thing to a father-figure that Natalya had, and Rhys had become genuinely fond of the man. He returned the handshake with equal fervor, a wide grin on his face, knowing they were among friends. The visits to Avalon always felt like they were returning home.

"But..." The angel frowned, looking confusing and glanced to Rhys with a questioning look on his face.

Rhys chuckled and lifted a hand to wave that question off. "Don't look at me! If you want to know about babies, you gonna have to talk to Nat." He flashed a wicked grin at his wife as he let go of her hand. "I'll meet you both there. Have fun!" And off he trotted, leaving Natalya alone with Zach to answer his questions.

Nat's jaw dropped as Rhys moved ahead of them, realizing he'd left her to smooth this one over on her own. "Trus," she muttered at his back, turning her eyes back to Zach curiously. "What has happened?"

Rhys cackled with laughter as he sauntered off, more amused at Nat's insult than anything else. She'd called him a coward, and he was not about to deny it, though he might find himself having to answer some equally difficult questions when he caught up with his sister.

Zach watched as Rhys departed, genuinely confused why the other man seemed to find the situation so amusing. He blinked back to Nat at her question. "Happened" Nothing. I was just wondering if we were expected to have conceived a child by now. Are you disappointed that we have not?"

"No." This time, she laughed just a little, hugging his arm as they walked along in Rhys' wake. "Zachariel, it is nobody's business but yours when or even if you have children. We are happy just that you and Rachel are healthy and at peace. We want nothing more than for you to be happy." Her head tilted curiously as she looked up at him. "Did you truly think that the Lady would let you become overwhelmed with life before you have settled as you are?"

"I do not think I always make her happy," he admitted worriedly. "I am not always sure what she wants," he added, finding it difficult to explain. "I am not very....experienced at being a man." It was true, he had not been human for very long, but he ached with the desire to make Rachel happy more than anything he had ever wanted before.

Natalya smiled gently, squeezing his arm. "Surely you must have noticed in your long time of watching that lovers do not always make each other happy?" she asked him quietly. "You are what she wants, she has been very clear about that, and I think you both make each other happy in the best way. But there will always be mistakes or misunderstandings that will make a little tension between you. So tell me ....what has happened that makes you think she is not happy?"

"I do not know," he replied, frowning a little as he tried to sort it out in his head and put things into words. "I think I disappoint her sometimes. I am not sure I give her what she wants." From the look on his face, this seemed to be troubling him, though it was difficult to put into words exactly what the problem was.

Oh, good lord. Marital difficulties were not something Nat was an expert at; she'd only been married herself a little over a year, and besides that, she and Rhys seemed able to avoid misunderstandings such as this one. "Have you asked her what it is she wants?" she asked Zach curiously. "You cannot know if you are failing, if you do not know what it is that is wanted."

"Natalya..." he started, coming to a halt and turning to face her. "The Lady has told us it is not yet time for us to have a child. I think this troubles her somehow. Why do you think that is?" he asked, almost as innocently as a child. He was definitely not ready for New York and the modern world, no matter how many millenia he might have observed humanity.

Ah. The penny dropped, and Nat thought she might actually understand what was going on here. "I think I understand," she smiled, holding Zach's hands gently between them. "All her life, Rachel has been denied one thing that we have all had in some way. She was denied family. Now she has the beginning of it, and she wants it all, now, before it can be taken away from her again. Perhaps she resents the Lady for denying her a child just now, but you can reassure her, you can promise her children. I know, because I have seen them. Not this year, not next year, but I think the year after, you will be ready for a child, both of you, and you will have him. But that is no reason for either one of you to hold your affections back from one another. The Lady will not allow it to happen until you are both ready to be parents."

Zach listened intently as Natalya very patiently explained what she thought the problem was. Most of it made sense to him, except for one thing. "I do not hold back my affection, but..." There was that look of troubled confusion on his face again and perhaps a little sadness. "A year is a very long time. How will we know when it will be the right time" Will the Lady tell us when we should..." He broke off, leaving the rest of the statement unspoken.

Nat stared at him. "Oh, please, bratishka, tell me you have not been refusing to make love to your wife," she said, in a warning tone.

"Refusing?" he echoed. "I do not deny Rachel anything. Whatever she wishes, I am happy to give it." Maybe not, but a woman who was as innocent as a child might not quite know how to communicate what it was that she wanted. "We have consummated our marriage," he replied awkwardly. "I do not wish to....to force myself on her if she is not ready to have a child."

"Oh, dear." It was a bit of a struggle not to laugh at this point, as Zach fumbled his way through confirming her suspicion without actually saying it aloud. Unfortunately for him, however, his sister-in-law was a blunt sort of person. Drawing him off the path and into some semblance of privacy, she gripped his hands, looking into the former angel's eyes, daring him to lie to her. "Have you had full penetrative sex with your wife since you consummated your marriage?"

He looked a bit startled by her reaction as she led him off the path, his expression turning serious and a little embarrassed at the question that followed. "No, I..." He broke off again, that confused expression returning to his face. "Have I done something wrong, Natalya" I only wish to make Rachel happy." He looked not only worried, but a little ashamed.

"Zachariel ..." She sighed softly, wondering just how to explain this to him so he would understand. "When the Lady says you are not ready for children, she does not mean physically. You are more than capable, you and your wife, of conceiving and of bearing a child. But you are both barely more than children yourselves. Your minds need to learn how to be adult, mortal, together. You need to reach a point where you do not learn something important every day that comes. A parent is not just the one from whom you come. Your parents are your protectors, your teachers. How can you teach, if you do not yet know? That is what the Lady means by not ready. But if she knew you were denying yourself and Rachel one of the most basic means of sharing love ....she would be speechless."

Zachariel's unexpected entrance made Rachel jump, green eyes turning toward the door with alarm at the sight of him. His announcement to Rhys didn't help, either. "What is it?" she asked worriedly. "Has something happened" Did I do something wrong?" She glanced over his shoulder, wondering where he'd left Nat.

"No, you have not done anything wrong," he replied as he crossed the room toward her, reaching for her hand. "It is only that I want you to know how much I love you. I need you to know how much I love you, Rachel."

Rhys' brows arched higher, wondering what the heck was going on and what had been said between the angel and Natalya to bring this sudden outpouring of affection forth. Whatever it was, he thought it might be a good enough distraction to steal a cake. Of course, it was just like Rhys to think of his stomach.

Rachel blinked in confusion, those large eyes not quite quick enough to hide the painful sting that came as her husband spoke. "I do know," she tried to tell him as he took her hand. "You tell me every day, my love."

Behind Zach, Nat reached the doorway, smirking at the sight of her own husband stealing a cake from the table. She raised a hand to beckon to him, having a pretty good idea of what was about to happen, with or without an audience.

"Yes, but I have not shown you. I have not loved you properly as a husband should," he continued, ignoring or forgetting that Rhys was there and that Nat wasn't far behind. He had already warned Rhys that he needed a word with his wife. It wasn't his fault if the other man didn't listen.

As for Rhys, he looked over at Natalya with a curious look on his face, gesturing toward the couple as if to ask what was going on.

Rachel blushed deeply, acutely aware that her brother was still in the room even as she looked up at Zachariel. "Y-you sh-should not do it if it is n-not something you w-want to do," she managed, her stutter always there when she was confused or concerned, or at a loss.

Nat glared at Rhys, her gesture for him to come out of the house getting a lot more pronounced. He would regret it if she had to come in there to get him, that much was obvious.

"I do want to, Rachel," Zach told her gently, a soft smile on his face as he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "I have always wanted to. If it is what you wish, my beloved. I only want to make you happy."

Rhys tossed Nat another look, shaking his head lightly, as he reached to steal a second cake, finding this all very interesting and entertaining.

"B-but you said no," Rachel stammered, uncertain and growing distressed just at the remembrance of the times she had tried in her own clumsy way and been gently put down. "You always s-say no."

There was a long-suffering sigh from the doorway, and Nat marched into the house, taking hold of her husband's arm and pulling him bodily out into the sunshine.

"No?" Rhys echoed aloud, brows furrowing as Nat tugged him from the house, but not before he could snag a third cake, taking full advantage of the situation. Before he could ask any more, he had been dragged from the house and out into the sunshine, leaving the newlyweds to sort things out in private.

Shutting the door behind them, Nat pinched the end of Rhys' nose. "Be glad you do not know what is happening in there, milaya," she told him cheerfully. "Just be thankful that they will both be in a better mood this evening."

One of the cakes was already being scarfed down by the Lady's Champion, who seemed to have an insatiable appetite and not just for food. He smirked as his nose got pinched, and slipped an arm around his wife's expanding waist. "I can make a pretty good guess," he said around a mouthful of cake.

She laughed as he drew her close. "I take it your sister is a passable cook, then," she commented on his enjoyment of his theft cheerfully, glancing back at the house they had just left thoughtfully. "Do you want me to tell you the mistakes of their marriage, or would rather present yourself to the Lady?"

"More than passable," he replied with a smirk. "I would rather make love to my wife," he added as he offered her a bite of one of the stolen cakes. He knew very well that every marriage was full of mistakes and misunderstandings, but he was confident there was enough love between his sister and the fallen angel to pull them through. He couldn't think of any better way to spend the afternoon, though he knew they would have to greet the Lady sooner or later.

"Then perhaps we should visit our own home," she suggested, taking a small bite of the stolen baked good, surprised and impressed by how well it tasted. "And make sure the bed is in working order. Da, dusha moya?"

"Da, dusha moya," he replied with a grin as he popped the rest of the cake into his mouth. He handed the last cake to her, before sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her off to the place that served as their own home in Rhy'Din to make sure the bed was in proper working order.

In the little home they had left behind them, Rachel stared up at her husband, confused and uncertain. "W-why are you saying these things?" she asked him, distressed that she didn't understand the sudden change in him. "Y-you have always said no, always. And now y-you want to do this with me, but nothing has ch-changed. I don't understand."

"Mmm..." he murmured as she continued to kiss him, nearly derailing his thoughts of a meal. "Food," he replied simply, giving nothing away, though the more she kissed him, the less he wanted to eat and the more he wanted to stay there with her, one appetite giving way to the another.

"We have food," she murmured, her voice somehow losing the sweet innocence that charmed almost everyone she met in favor of a huskier sound, infinitely more seductive and for his ears alone. "Uncooked food. You are being deliberately mysterious, beloved."

Reluctantly and only with immense will power, he very gently untangled himself from her embrace, his body betraying the rekindled desire he was feeling for her, the desire that he had kept under wraps for far too long. "Mmm, Rachel, I am not finished with you, but you should eat or you will grow weak." So maybe it wasn't his own stomach he was concerned with so much as it was hers, and he simply wanted to do something nice for her. They had been married for several months now, and yet, he felt closer to her in that moment than he ever had before.

So this was what Natalya had meant when she had told him of his mistake. Rachel sprawled across the bed with a playful pout, immodest when she was sure only his eyes could see her. "Perhaps you're right," she sighed impishly. "I would never forgive myself if I fainted on you." Rolling over, she reached for the matches to light the candle by the bed, casting flickering golden light over herself and the man she adored.

He frowned a little, not out of sadness, but only because now that he understood what he had missed, what they had both missed - this coupling, this coming together, this sharing of bodies in a blessed union of love - he was reluctant to leave her, if only for the few minutes it would take him to gather together a simple meal of bread and fruit and cheese. "I do not wish to leave you," he said, lingering, admiring the way the candlelight played upon her body.

She stretched lazily, brushing golden blonde hair back from her face as she gazed back at him, as admiring as he was. "I could always come with you," she suggested, before a thought occurred to her. "How do they do it, do you think, Rhys and Natalya" How do they spend so much time with one another in the company of others and not embarrass themselves or their companions with how much they want each other?"

He had not come into his own just yet as a lover and still had much to learn, but he had gotten off to a good start. He felt desire stirring inside him once more, unable to hide it from her, even if he wanted to. He reached out to touch her, almost shyly, smoothing a hand against the gentle curve of her hip, admiring her beauty with wonder and awe. "I do not know. Perhaps it gets easier with time."

She shivered under his touch, the flush of color pouring across her skin more than evidence enough that it was not the temperature that brought on the gentle spasm. "Or perhaps they are just more experienced at it," she murmured, raising her hand to echo his caress in a soft trail of fingertips over his thigh.

"Perhaps," he replied in agreement. The more she touched him and the longer he lingered, the less inclined he was to go in search of food. In that moment, it seemed she was all he'd ever want or need. He frowned a little, unsure if he should tell her the truth of why he'd had a change of heart. He could not tell a lie and he though an omission of the truth was very nearly a lie. "Natalya..." he started, frowning worriedly. "She explained to me that a husband and wife should be....intimate together. That it is how they show their love for each other. It is a sacred union between a man and a woman. I did not understand, but I understand now."

Rachel's expression mirrored his frown in quiet confusion, not wanting to take hurt but uncertain quite what he was telling her. "Then ....then you would not have done this with me, if she had not told you to?" she asked uncertainly.

"It is not that, Rachel. I am not here with you because Natalya told me to. I am here because I love you and because..." He seemed to struggle with the words a moment or the concept of physical desire. "Because I want you. Natalya explained things to me, but I am here because I want to be. Do you understand?" he asked, uncertainly, hoping she would try to understand a little.

One thing both Nat and Zach seemed to underestimate in his little golden-haired wife was just how much trust she had in her husband. Rachel smiled gently, reaching up to stroke his cheek with one small hand. "I do understand," she promised him. "You said no because ....because the way you have followed all your life has told you that feeling this way is wrong. That even a married man shouldn't feel desire for his wife." She'd been paying attention to her lessons, it seemed. "But they are wrong, aren't they' Why would we feel this way for one another if it was so forbidden" I think Natalya is right. And I am glad that you think so, too."

"Yes, but how can there be anything wrong in such a beautiful thing as this?" he asked, clearly in awe of what they had shared and would share again and again in the days to come. "Rachel," he started again, as something else came to mind, something that excited him and that he thought he should share. "We are going to have children," he told her, with that soft smile on his face again, his eyes shining with happiness, thought it had not happened yet. "I do not know how she knows, but she knows." Not child, but children, plural. More than one.

Whatever else she might have said in agreement with him was swept aside in the sudden shock and wonder of this news. Natalya's Christmas vision had not been passed on to her in so many details, so this was amazing to Rachel. "We will?" She laughed with delight, moving to curl her arms around him. Children to fill their home and bring a greater sense of family, to wipe away the mistakes and troubles of the past - it was a greater gift than she had ever thought to have. "Not just one" When?"

"A year or two..." he replied uncertainly. "I'm not sure. When the time is right. Perhaps you can ask her tomorrow," he suggested, hoping Natalya could better explain what she knew and how she knew it than he could. "It is strange for me to think that I might be a father one day."

Zachariel considered that a moment, thoughts drifting back to the Grand Master and the look that touched his face whenever he spoke of the Lady. It was not hard to see how he felt about her, doomed to love a woman he could never have. The Lady's fate was not much kinder, but perhaps that was why he loved her so. He did not have to ask who Rachel would choose as her partner; there was no question it would be him. "She is lonely," he said, an observation that was not hard to make. Despite all of those who loved her and served the Lady here in Avalon, he thought it must be lonely to be her. He remembered his own lonely existence before he'd died and become mortal, and his heart ached for her, as well as the Grand Master, to know love but never to be able to share it.

Rachel's tender heart ached with his, her insight much the same as her brother's. "She says that is the price she pays," she said quietly, picking at the sheet beneath her hand. "That nothing comes without a cost, and she pays her price willingly. But at least now she knows her time is finite. A child is coming, she says, who will take her place."

He arched a brow, wondering if the child Natalya was bearing would be that child. He had not heard much about the prophecy the Lady had made concerning the Champion and Priestess of Avalon, only mutterings here and there, whispers and snatches of gossip. Sir Lionel kept him too busy to spend time worrying about such things, though he was curious. "A daughter," Zachariel mused, knowing that much, at least, had to be true.

"Or a grand-daughter," Rachel murmured, pushing herself to sit up as she reached out to brush her hand against his arm. "Two or three generations is not so very long to wait for someone who has lived more than a thousand years, is it?"

"No," he answered without hesitation. If anyone would know what that was like, it was him. A thousand years was a blink of an eye when measured against the Dawn of Time. "No," he repeated, realizing with sadness how short this mortal life could be, and yet, it was only one life, among many, and this was his first. He glanced at her, drawn away from his own thoughts by her touch, remembering he was about to gather them some food for dinner. "I will go fetch us some dinner," he told her, leaning close to offer her lips a soft kiss.

She smiled, stroking her fingers through his hair. "Don't be long," she whispered to him tenderly. "Or I'll come looking for you." And knowing Rachel, that was not so much a threat as a promise. If she started parading around their home in nothing but her skin, they would very quickly learn that the bed was not the only place they could share this new-found passion of theirs.

It was only a matter of time before they discovered it anyway, but at least he'd had the sense to don a pair of pants before he parading around their small home. "I won't be," he promised, giving her face a gentle touch, before turning for the door and making his way toward the room that served as their kitchen where the cakes were still laid out, but had long since cooled.

As he left, she let herself fall back against the sheets, releasing a loud peal of delighted giggles that reverberated around the house. All those months of worrying, of wondering, of fearing that he had been mistaken in his love for her, all forgotten in the heady rush of love shared, finally, in the way of true lovers. Her eyes turned to the rounded window that looked out on the setting sun, the silhouette of the Temple as night drew on. "He loves me." A wide smile curved her full lips, brightened her sweet face, until she fairly shone with happiness. "Thank the Lady, he really does love me."

As for Zachariel, he could hear her giggles even from the kitchen, and smiled in amused happiness, knowing he was most likely the source of her joy. So, this was what it felt like to love and be loved. It was like nothing he'd ever felt before, and though he couldn't know what his beloved was thinking at that very moment, his own thoughts closely mirrored hers, only it was not the Lady he thanked, but a much older being - one who had created them all at the Dawn of Time and one who he hoped was happy with His children. He smiled as he gathered bread, and cheese, and fruit, and wine for a makeshift feast to be shared between him and his beloved. For the first time in his long existence, he knew what it was to be truly happy.

((Rhys and Nat have the best timing! Marriage saved! Decisions made! And just in time for Easter!))