At four months along, Elara was halfway through her pregnancy and it has been rough and Zarkon is playing with fire, he's bound to get burned. Their family and friends ready knew of her pregnancy and they knew the gender, a baby girl. It was the usual time for them to wake up and Elara wasn't feeling well at all.

"Elara come on, it's time to wake up." He said and yanked the blanket off her.

"Zarkon I do not feel good at all! Piss off!" She growled.

"What's wrong? Talk to me. I'll help you out." Zarkon said as he sit down next to her.

"Well for one, I'm pregnant, two I'm moody, three I'm exhausted, four I feel like a fat bloated whale, five my tits HURT, six my back is starting to hurt, and seven I fear the stretch marks." She ranted.

"Ok... One that's my fault, two I know that and I'm scared, three you do need some rest, four you're not fat, you're beautiful, five I'll help with that of course because I don't want medic seeing those, they are reserved for me, five I'll also help with that, and six, If you get stretch marks I won't care, you will still be beautiful to me and whoever disagrees will be murdered on the spot." Zarkon said.

Elara was trying really hard not to cry. It wasn't working.

'DON'T CRY DON'T CRY DON'T CRY DON'T CRY DON'T CRY!' She screamed at herself in her head and then she starting bawling her eyes out.

"And this is how I know we were having a girl. The mood swings are just chaotic but that's ok. Let it out." He said, hugging her as she uncontrollably sobbed into his shoulder while rubbing her back.

He was in for a lot in the next four months, and a lot means a lot.