"I can take my own clothes off, thank you very much," Libro said as he slid around the bed for protection. "Besides, I would prefer my own wife to do this over anyone else. She understands the certain...conditions I'm under."

The chambermaid was not dismayed in the least as followed doggedly after him, gnarled hands outstretched, reaching for the buttons of his coat. "Now, now, my dear Captain. There is no need to be shy," the aged chambermaid chided him. "I have dressed and undressed many a wounded veteran under the lordship of Jarl Kriggith. There is no need for shame or shyness. Besides, all those fancy buttons and straps you have around your armor will take ages to undo by yourself. Consider it a courtesy of the Jarl."

"It's not courtesy. It's invasive." Libro took to unbuttoning the front of his jacket himself, nimble fingers working with expert agility. His sleeve rolled up, revealing the dark scars on his wrist. Another reason to rebuke the chambermaid as well, he reckoned. Less chance for her to see his marks and bring questions to the Jarl. Strange people with strange marks on their body would doubtless be a story he didn't want to tell.

"Please, my dear Captain. The food will grow cold by the time you undress yourself. It simply would be better if—," her  words were cut off as the door burst open and Elba stormed inside

"Elba!" Libro's smile practically jumped off his lips. It remained there for the briefest moment before he saw the look in her eye. Panic, fear, and frustration all coiled up together like a sack of angry serpents, and heading straight towards him.

"Out!" Elba said to the chambermaid, one finger pointed at the door.

"But my lady, I haven't yet—,"

"I said out!"

The Chambermaid bowed her head obediently and shuffled away. "I will take my leave then. Please be presentable to Jarl Kriggith as soon as you can." She eyed Elba, noting the dress clutched in her grasp. "For all our sakes."

With a soft clatter, the door swung shut and Libro was alone with his wife. "I can't tell you how happy I am to see you. That woman was keen to strip me down to nothing had you not intervened. If she'd seen the scars I don't know what..." His words trailed off as he noticed Elba was staring at him intently.

Before he could ask what'd happened she charged him, grabbing him by the shoulders and pinning him against the wall. The grip she had on him was iron tight, almost painful as she leveled her gaze with his. Without warning she leaned in, crushing him into a kiss that was half loving, half desperate, as if it was the single act alone was keeping her alive.

"Elba," Libro gasped when she pulled away. "What's gotten into you?,"

"I love you," Elba said, no fear or trepidation in her voice this time.

His breath hitched in the back of his throat. This was the first time she'd ever said it back to him and the realization alone nearly made him tear up. "I love you too," he murmured, wondering what in the seven hells had gotten into her.

"I'm pregnant."

Libro froze. So that's what had gotten into her. "I...I don't..." He sucked in a shuddering breath, fear trickling down his back in a cold rush. "How did this even happen?"

Elba furrowed her brow in confusion. "How do you think it happened? A bloody eagle flew in and told me the good news? No you bloody idiot, it was back in The Medial when you got drunk off the beer there and thought a romp in the hay would sober you back up. Loved every moment of it, mind you."

Memories of that particular night bubbled to the surface in Libro's mind. The smell of hay and horse sweat, the feel of Elba's skin against his as rain pattered over the rooftop, hiding their escapade. He'd tried to be careful, tried to make sure he'd spilled his seed on the ground instead of...her fertile garden, but as he thought about it more, he realized he'd done the exact opposite. Nido's tits, he was never drinking again.

"But that was weeks ago," he stammered. "I thought...I thought..."

"You thought we'd know sooner?" Elba shook her head in disbelief. "I'm the one with the womb, remember? It takes more than a couple of days to figure out if you're pregnant. Sometimes, it takes longer." She took a step back, releasing Libro from her vice-like grip as she sat down on the bed, suddenly weary. As if her energy were needed elsewhere.

Libro swallowed, realizing the crossroads he was standing at. Here he was in a dangerous land with the only person who ever truly loved him, now pregnant with his child.

His child. The word alone sent a pulse of fire and ice rushing through his veins as his thoughts raced to keep up. Memories of his mother, of his father, of countless nights weeping over the two of them. The constant cycle of fear and love, the endless tilting scales. Would this be his child's fate as well? Would this be the life he'd bring into the world?

"No," Libro breathed.

"No?" Elba looked up at him, gasping as he bent down to one knee, placing his hand in hers.

"I'm so happy," Libro said, feeling the bitter bite of tears in his eyes. "I have a child. I'm going to be a father." He paused to look at her, unable to keep the reverence from his voice any longer. "I'm going to be the father of your child. I'm so scared, and I'm so, so happy. I'm so many things at once right now."

"I didn't know how to tell you," Elba said, the trepidation in her voice earlier slowly melting away. "I had some suspicions when I first started getting sick, but I thought it was the food to be honest."

"The soup here is absolute shit," Libro admitted.

"It is," she laughed, a single tear rolling down her cheek. "It really, really is. But after the chambermaid offered me a goddess damned pregnancy dress to wear it all fell into place. The irregularities, the irritability, the lack of menses. It all made sense."

"Menses?" Libro asked.

"My...monthly bleeds." Elba waved her hand for emphasis. "Is that the right word you southerners use for a collection of thirty days?"

"Thirty to thirty one, but yes I'm catching on now." Libro filed the information in the back of his mind for later.

"Anyway, I didn't know how to tell you." She reached down and gave his hand a squeeze. "I'm so scared, Libro. I've never done this before. I've never been pregnant before. I only remember what Gretta told me when Kirick's Mah kept pushing out little ones, and I was barely listening half the time."

Libro felt a pang of guilt in his chest, knowing how much she'd sacrificed to be with him. Her people. Her very way of life.. And now he'd trapped her with pregnancy, it felt like. To bear the child of an ancestral enemy. It made him feel like scum for some reason. "We need to get you back to Byzantia."

"What?" Elba snapped her head up.

"I'll have Cent and Moss escort you back. Brand too if need be. I can find Regis on my own."

"That's not going to happen. Do you hear me?" Elba grabbed a handful of Libro's hair, pulling him painfully back so she was nose to nose with him. "I'm not going to leave. I'm never going to leave you again. Do you hear me? I'm never going to lose you again."

She cried harder now, tears pattering onto the stone floor, onto Libro's arm. Shadows danced from the many candles flickering about the room, an audience dancing to the tune of pain and love.

"Never!" She said.

"Never," Libro repeated back to her. "Then we stay, and face this together. No matter what."

"No matter what," Elba said, releasing him from her vice-like grip.

Libro fell back, ass cheeks kissing the stones as he sat staring up at his amazing wife, skin radiant in the half light. His eyes trailed over to the dress still clutched in her grasp. A black material was woven into the fabric, discs of it sparkling, shimmering glass that caught the light with every movement. His brows went up as he realized it was the same material the creature in the tower had worn as armor.

Black glass.

"It's beautiful," Libro said.

"What?" Elba looked down at the dress. "Oh, this thing? Don't know how I feel about it yet. I've never been one for clothes like these, you know me. Not even a year in the south could break my love for pants."

"You're stubborn, I'll give you that. But I've always said, you do look magnificent in a dress. Shows off your legs," he added with a wink.

And there it was, the familiar flush of color to her cheeks when his words struck gold. "You sir are a cheese vendor!" She chucked the dress at him, a hard disk of black glass smacking him square in the nose.

"Gah!" Libro went down hard, the dress more like a weighted net as it smothered him, pinning him to the ground until Elba was forced to pull it off.

"This thing weighs as much as chainmail," Libro gasped as he stood up. "Guess we don't have to call it a dress anymore. It's practically armor."

"You'll not wiggle your way out of this one, you silver tongued cheese monger. "Elba wagged a finger at him. "But I have to agree. It is strangely weighted. The disks are strong too. I took my sword to one and it bounced right off."

Libro's eyes flickered over to his own clothes strewn about the bed, noticing them for the first time. They were expensively made given Danic standards, a long coat of thick leather with a sheep hide inner lining. The ensemble was matched with breeches and tough boots, all stitched with black glass plates, expertly sewn over vital places of the body. The chest glittered with the stuff, inner thighs equally patterned to protect the major arteries.

"They want us protected, that much is certain," he said.

"But why? Are the rebels expecting trouble?" Elba's hackles went up as her eyes snapped over to where her sword sat against the wall.

"They're expecting something, that much we know." Libro fingered at the buttons of his coat. "I may keep my chainmail on just in case."

"Think the others are getting equally dressed up for tonight?"

"Jarl Kriggith seems the generous, eccentric sort. I feel secure in believing they were given equally armored clothing, which means their suspicions have likely been raised as well. Let's try and meet with them before dinner starts, see if we can't deduce the Jarl's plans."

"Right then," Elba slapped her knees and stood up from the bed. "First things first. We need to get you dressed up so we catch the other boys before they scamper off to the dining room. Get up so I can undress you."

A l wave of panic washed over Libro as he hastily obeyed, forgetting how commanding his wife could be when the mood suited her. She stepped over, popping the rest of the buttons he'd missed with her deft fingertips. His coat was tossed aside without ceremony, her hands working at the straps of his breastplate, gorget, and pauldrons.

Libro smiled as he watched her, settling into the familiar pattern of their routine. She had armored and unarmored, robed and disrobed him a thousand times over already, helping him at his lowest. Truly he did not deserve her, and he would spend the rest of his life hoping to become the man she deserved.

Their eyes met and a gentle smile curled up one side of her lips. "You're staring," she cooed.

"It's hard not too," he said. "Men can only dream of the view I have."

Elba rolled her eyes and pushed his face away. "Forget cheese monger. You sir, are a goddess damned cheese wizard."

***