There were more details to being a professor's wife than Aurelia had realized. Despite the newness of their marriage, she had accompanied Ian to three fundraising events thus far, each time making better friends with his colleagues and their families, as well as to the Christmas ball the university had held. What she liked best, though, was their quiet time, in the house they had found together on the edge of Huntingdon. After four months, it was finally beginning to feel like home, which was just as well. With the growing evidence of their little blessing rounding out her belly with every passing day, they needed to feel settled before their world was picked up and tossed about again.

Of course, the news that Ian and Aurelia were expecting a child had yielded an interesting response from those they knew in New York. Hardly a week went by without something else arriving from Rhys and Nat, and today was no different. Aurelia waved off the delivery men, and turned to consider the large box that had just been brought in.

Ian's colleagues had even noticed the change in the man now that he was married and expecting a child, any why shouldn't he be happy' It seemed like all the loose ends of his life were coming together now that he was married to Aurelia. All but one, but there was nothing he could do about that. Both houses were really starting to come together, and Ian's days and nights were busier than they'd ever been. But like Aurelia, the times he liked most were those that were spent at the little cottage in the woods where Rhys had grown up and where Ian had first met Aurelia. "That is definitely bigger than a breadbox," the absent-minded professor chuckled in observance of the big box that had just come off the delivery truck. "What do you suppose is inside?"

"I dread to think," his Belgian witch of a wife laughed with him. "I love Natalya, truly, but she does not seem to be able to stop herself from spending money on us." Shaking her head, she moved from the doorway to crouch by the big box, ripping at the brown paper that covered it.

"Lucky for her, she has the money to spend," Ian remarked offhandedly and mostly to himself. He wasn't rich by any means, though so far they had managed to get by on his meager income as a college professor. Thankfully, they had very generous friends or they might have very quickly gone into debt. He hadn't wanted to accept their charity, at first. The man had his pride, after all, but Natalya just wouldn't take no for an answer. "You don't think there's a big overstuffed clown in there, do you?" he asked, suspiciously, stepping forward to help her. He wasn't overly fond of clowns, for some reason.

It would take time for Aurelia's reputation to build up to the point where the very unique community she was targeting with her potions and spells would trust her enough to pay good money, so for now, she, too, was forced to swallow her pride and allow Rhys' wife to spoil them as much as she wanted to. "I promise, if it is a big clown, I will incinerate it for you," she assured her husband with a smile. Not that she could do much without matches these days - the only active power she was using during her pregnancy was her ability to shimmer from place to place. She didn't miss the shielding or energy balls, confident that there was little in this world that would try their hand against her or her husband, anyway.

"Thank you," he smiled up at her, amused at her willingness to defend him against one of his childhood fears. "You're my hero." Of course, he knew there was no such thing hidden beneath all that paper. For one, the box was too heavy for that, and secondly, he thought Nat was a little too practical to send them something as silly as that. He helped her pull away the paper to reveal a cardboard box with pictures of a baby's crib plastered all over the sides. "Well, it's definitely not a clown. I guess we know where the baby will be sleeping," he said, hands on hips as he looked the box over. "I suppose it will require some assembly," he mused aloud with a small frown. Thankfully, he had a few months to figure it out before the crib would be needed.

"Perhaps we should make her come down here and put it up herself," Aurelia suggested with a low chuckle of her own, easing back up onto her feet. As much as Natalya Bristol seemed to want to smother them in all the essentials and the not so essentials, she couldn't deny that the woman was extremely practical about what she was buying for them. "If a birthing pool arrives, I am going to tell her to use it as a swimming pool for little Ana."

"It's too bad you can't just twitch your nose and have it be done," he added, carefully helping her to her feet. He was forever fussing over her and telling her to relax, almost to the point of irritation, but he meant well. He was a little old-fashioned in that he thought a woman - especially one as pregnant as his wife - was to be pampered and cherished, at least until the baby was born. "A birthing pool?" he echoed, with a curious lift of his brows. Though he was an extremely intelligent man with a Ph.D. in Arthurian Studies, his knowledge of childbirth and babies was nil, at best.

Aurelia laughed, wrapping her arm about his back as she leaned into him. She'd given up telling him to stop fussing, simply allowing him to get it out of his system now rather than arguing. "Yes, she has been telling me all about the wonders of the home birth," she told her husband with a smile. "And utterly ignoring me when I tell her, repeatedly, that hospitals are something very important in my mind."

"Home birth?" he echoed again, looking a little dubious of that idea. "Is that how she - they - birthed their daughter?" he asked, curiously, unsure if he really wanted the details. He eyed the box again, wondering how in blazes he was going to get it from the front door to the bedroom alone.

In pieces, most likely, if he insisted on doing it himself. Aurelia may not have been allowed to help much, but that shimmering ability of hers came in very handy when it came to moving heavy objects from one place to another. "I believe Elaine delivered their daughter, in their home on Avalon," she told Ian, though she was not entirely certain herself. There were no mystical wise women here; she was dead set on a hospital, that practical streak of hers not wanting to allow for any mistakes.

"I see," he replied quietly. "Well, before I lug this monstrosity upstairs, what do you think about a cup of tea?" he asked, turning to wrap his arms about her waist. As far as Professor Evans was concerned, it was always time for tea. He was just as happy to have a doctor precede over their child's birth, though as far as he was concerned, it was ultimately up to Aurelia to make that decision.

She leaned into him, her head resting comfortably on his shoulder. In just a few weeks, he would be able to feel their child wriggling around inside her as well, but for now, he would just have to take her word for it. "You mean before I shimmer it upstairs?" she asked sweetly, brushing her lips against his cheek. "I think tea sounds like a lovely idea, mon coeur."

"Oh," he laughed as he realized she'd thought of an easier way. "So you are going to twitch your nose then," he teased, tapping her nose gently and playfully, her head against his shoulder.

"Into a volcano!" he echoed with a gasp and a look of horror on his face, taking her at her word. "You can't be serious," he said, hoping she wasn't. She had yet to show him any sign of a temper. The only time she'd come close was at that Christmas party when a few of his colleagues had pushed their luck a little too far.

Aurelia couldn't help but laugh at the abject horror on his face at her ridiculous threat. "Oh, Ian," she chuckled, reaching across the table to touch his hand tenderly. "Do you not think that, if I could that, I would have done it to a few of your colleagues by now?"

"Aurelia," Ian started, exhaling a sigh of relief. "That is nothing to joke about. Besides, I don't plan on being a college professor forever." Though what he did plan on doing he wasn't quite sure yet. At heart, he was an academic, a scholar, far more content writing research papers than he was behind a lectern.

"I know, mon coeur," she assured him warmly, stroking her thumb over his palm before releasing him once again. "You are more suited to books and scrolls than you are to being patient with young people, most of whom are only taking your class for the credits it will earn them."

"Every now and then, you stumble across a student who is genuinely interested in the subject matter, but yes, most of them are only there to earn their credits before moving on to other things. It's sad really. Most of them know very little other than what they've seen on TV. I'm afraid the true Arthur has been lost to myth and legend," he said with a sigh as he sipped at his tea.

"He is not lost, Ian." Aurelia reached out to him once again, curling her hand about his tenderly. "As long as we remember him, the man he was, he will not be lost. You knew him. Surely there is no one else who might be able to find him in the records left behind to the rest of the world. Perhaps you could give the real Arthur back to the world that longs for his legend."

He frowned, touched by her reassurance, but torn between his desire to dig deeper into the life and legend of King Arthur and his need to pay the bills, so to speak. "Yes, well, I'm afraid that is not going to happen so long as I spend most of my day lecturing students who would rather be playing with their phones than studying history. Very few of them even bother to try thinking outside the box. Perhaps I need to challenge them more. If I could only open their eyes to the fact that the legends and myths of their ancestors are based in fact and are still relevant today." He huffed impatiently. "If only I could show them Avalon. If only I could bring the stories and people alive for them, the way they are for us."

Her smile grew gentler. She knew she didn't need to tell him how important it was that Avalon remain a secret to all but the select few who were permitted to know of it. There was simply too much power contained within the Isle for their existence to become widely acknowledged. "Then perhaps you should look at the legends from the other direction," she suggested thoughtfully, though she would be the first to admit she didn't know what she was talking about. "Ask them to consider whether or not Arthur has kept his promise to return when England stood in danger. They have many options to choose from, and yet you and I both know only one of those is the truth."

"Perhaps," Ian mused. "I have been thinking. Perhaps we should host a faire of sorts. Allow them to become the Knights of the Round Table and their ladies. Let them dress in the clothing of the day, explore the food and the language. Immerse them in the customs and culture of that age. If I cannot bring them to Avalon, perhaps I can bring Avalon to them." It wouldn't be easy, he knew, but he thought his students might find such an experience far more meaningful than simply reading a book and being lectured by a professor. "I want to bring it to life for them, Aurelia," he told her, gesturing with his hands, getting animated now, as he was filled with excitement at the prospect.

"Perhaps you could ask the Lady," she suggested with a gentle smile. "Perhaps among those who would be a part of the faire, certain people from Avalon could be hidden. It would be a wonderful experience, mon coeur. I think it is a lovely idea."

"Yes, well, if I can only convince the Dean as easily as I've convinced you," he said with another sigh. "You wouldn't happen to have any spells for that. Perhaps some herb I could drop in his coffee?" he suggested, only half-kidding.

She laughed, taking a slow sip of her cocoa. "Perhaps you are approaching it in the wrong way," she mused. "What if there happened to be a faire not so very far away, and you wished to take your students to it' Natalya and Rhys would enjoy recreating a little of Avalon here, I think, and it would give them something to do beyond burying us in gifts."

"Rhys and Natalya have a small child to tend to," Ian countered, though he thought the idea was plausible, if complicated. He was aware of the various Renaissance Faires that took place during the summer months, and this idea of his wouldn't be much different really. Ian had a feeling if he suggested it to Rhys and Natalya, they'd be likely to either laugh in his face or jump at the chance. One was as likely as the other. "It will take some planning and preparation, and I'd like to get the students involved as much as possible. The idea is to immerse them in the experience as much as possible as participants, not just observers."

"Then perhaps not a faire," Aurelia mused, as caught up in the idea as he was. "If we were in France, or even England, there are whole villages dedicated to living the way they do in Avalon - that simplicity, with no modern conveniences. Would it be possible to arrange for your students to visit such a place for a week" To fully immerse themselves in a way of life that has no need for any entertainment but the spoken word?"

Ian considered that idea a moment. "If I could come up with the funding, perhaps. Most of them don't have the money for something like that. A scholarship maybe or a grant. Perhaps a fundraiser of some sort," he mused aloud. He sincerely doubted the university would put up any funds for such a trip, though they might endorse it.

"A fundraiser is certainly a good choice," she nodded in agreement. "None of this has to happen right away, mon coeur. It would be a good trip for the summer, non' And I may have contacts in Europe by then who will help out in exchange for certain items." She offered him her mysterious smile; she hadn't told him all the ins and outs of her burgeoning business, and he hadn't asked. Just the sight of her herb garden had been enough to tie his tongue in knots.

"And we will have a baby by then," he reminded her, leaning close to lay a hand against the small swell of her stomach that would only grow larger in the weeks and months to come. He was secretly hoping for a daughter, a smaller version of his witch, though so long as the baby was healthy, that was all that really mattered.

"We will." Her hand covered his as he laid that protective hand over the curve of her womb. Perhaps it was strange, but she, too, was hoping for a daughter this first time. She wanted to see Ian with a little girl to love him unconditionally, to erase the pain of his own lack of parental love and support, to teach him that it was not his fault that he and his father seemed to no longer care for one another. She thought a little girl could teach him that better than a boy, who might make him draw back out of fear of becoming his own father. "And would it not be a wonderful experience, for all of us?"