It had been weeks since Althalos had been left to roam half the hive-never coming close to his betrothed or the babe. The creatures varied so much that he couldn't keep track of the line between bondmaid and the full on alien. They spoke mostly through the mind, he could feel them scratching beyond his barriers. The first few days the novelty of the space: the hexagon cells of varying sizes that made up bed, chairs, walls and chambers was enough to distract him from their chronic pressure. After that, hiding away in a corner while reading something was the only thing that kept him sane. He couldn't live here: not like this, not even for her. And this was normal to the bondmaids-no wonder they left, feeling too open and empty with his own people. He wondered how Esme fared, being as distant as she was.

They brought him book after book-not anything he remembered finding in his own nation-some of them long lost histories at this point. The latest one they brought him was the journal of one of the first bondswains. He learned that these Aelif had barely finished signing the contract between them and the last remaining hive, when the room was swarmed by dwarf Queens, all of nearly 9 feet tall. Each Queen grabbed a man, and violently instigated the bond. At first, the man remembered nothing but terror as they were forcibly linked not only to their partner, but with the whole of their foes-and each other. Someone-not the man writing-found perverse pleasure in the actions, and it reverberated through the whole of them until the room's mood shifted gradually to the high Althalos himself felt his first time. But it had started in the near-panic of battle with these creatures that they were tired of fighting.

The Prince was just finishing the account of the Aelif's grief over the event when she walked in. Esme was dressed in a simple robe, no longer in the shell of the Queen. Her hair had been shorn short, curling for once, but was much darker than he remembered it. Once again, a life change and his poor girl didn't look like herself, but he was glad to see her even if it was only for a short while. He waited until she was as nearly upon him before he stood. Looking down on her was a sight better, made him long for home. "Have you come to send me off, my dear?"

Emotions flitted across her face, none of them were pleasant. Eventually anger won out and she struck him as hard as her small fist could, right in his stomach-even managed to knock the wind out of him, a hair. "We're all going home, you ass! I don't belong here."

The former thief turned away from him, and fought against crying. His labored breathing turned into laughter. He pulled her back to him, to embrace her. "We?"

"Our son. He's near big enough to make the shift from grub to a four year old. Are you ready to miss out on those years?"

He kissed the top of her curly head. "Will all of our children be like this?"

"We're going to have more?"

"Well, if you aren't staying here and we're going home, we have a wedding date to set."

"Why do we have to marry?"

He pulled back from her a bit so he could gently lead her into turning around to face him. "You've been upset this whole time at the idea that you were going to leave me. You didn't want me to give up before we started, and now that you're coming home, you want to slow down?"

"Other than desiring you, I don't know." Her eyes were watery. "It took me a while to sort through what the Elder gave me--and it's no different this time. The Queen told me she was in my mind for weeks, reshaping that thing they call the hindlobes."

"Two weeks, four days. I thought it took a month to grow the grubs big enough to transition."

"Queen's jelly can speed it up. They're calling us in for it, now." She pulled away from him and walked where she willed-much like the day he brought her home. No demand that he follow her, but he followed anyway.

They walked into one of the areas barred from him previously-the great chamber of the Crystal Queen. The lights that kept flashing in the room were not the twinkling magic of the Aelif-this was a cold and lifeless light. The old tomes mentioned this thing called electricity, and he was sure that this room was lit with it-couldn't guarantee the rest of the places he had been were the same, as the light was diffused, softer, without a clear point of origin. But here? It felt like death to his eyes.

Dozens of attendants huddled in groups around the Queen's pacing form, holding things that they poked at continuously-he couldn't understand the use of any of it. Another attendant brought in a grub. The Queen barked out. "Come, hold it."

He leaned forward to whisper to Esme. "Is she talking to you?"

"No, go hold your son."

Althalos strode forward and grabbed the wiggling grub, watching it spasm in ways that didn't make sense. Once, as a much younger man, he thought he would fall in love at first sight with his child-the idle dreams of a man craving stability. He knew now that he loved the weird wriggling entity while he was still in his mother, but looking at this mass of flesh was distressing.

"Choices, Prince. Dash to bits or tear open. Free your son."

Althalos couldn't bear the thought of doing either, but knew it would distress him more to throw the moving mound. He shifted forward to a table rolled out in front of the Queen-placed almost like an altar before her-and settled his child onto it. He slowly pushed his hand in it's side. The skin gave way with a putrid smell as it oozed past his hand. A smaller one grasped his, managing to capture several of his fingers at a time. For a moment, it felt like his heart stopped, but he freed himself and tore into the decaying flesh faster, until the child emerged. The youngling sat up, opening eyes slick with the grub's juices for the first time, staring into his father's face. His son looked just like him, save that his ears were neither human or Aelif. Even in all the decaying mess, his heart turned over-he knew he'd love this child until his dying breath.

He had lied to Rileus, at the start of things. Aelif can love at first sight.

The Prince turned back to look at the mother of his child, to share in the moment. Esme was looking away towards a wall, her skin almost as ashen as when Rileus had threatened Lady Fane's staff. Pain marred his joy in that moment, knowing that they weren't in accord over the rebirth of their child. It was normal for their relationship, and he was overwhelmingly tired of it-and often only had himself to blame for that, as well.

Then the attendants hovered, pulling his son away, cleaning and placing him into the arms of the Queen. Althalos wanted to protest but knew it would be futile, so he stepped down and gathered Esme to his side again, getting her to turn and watch whatever came next. The great being towered over everyone, but knelt down and grasped the boy's head-gently-in it's pinching claws. They stood there solemnly for what felt like an eternity, then she let him go just as carefully as she gripped him.

The child stood-walking for the first time until he was at his parent's feet. "Do I have a name?"

They both looked at each other-a question they had not asked of the other this whole time. Esme shook her head. "I never had a name in mind as they change in my world. Did you ever think of one?"

"I always thought I'd name my firstborn after an ancestor, but he looks so much like me that a too-distant name wouldn't fit him."

"Thalosine?"

Althalos raised an eybrow, as he thought about it. "Son of Thalos?"

"Well, you're All of Thalos-what or where is Thalos?"

"A parcel of land within the kingdom-a lord's land-where the battle of Thalos shed plenty of Aelfine blood. The name is sufficient, even expected."

She nodded, then turned to the boy in front of her. "Do you like the name?"

He shrugged and looked around at their surroundings. "It's better than being named 'it's me'. Can we leave here? They make too much noise."

"Certainly, but I no longer have wings so I cannot access the path out, and it's blocked to your father. We wait until the Queen releases us."

"Go. Call on me when in need." The queen rasped out, nearly overhead. The great being was deadly quiet when she chose to be.

Moments later the Frostways opened underneath their feet, causing them to land in the room they left only weeks before. They landed barely upright, startling Dervaine-Althalos' father-from his place on the couch. He was up out his seat with his arms wrapped around his much larger son in no time. "Where have you been?"

"Stuck in the Queen's own hive. Esme refused to choose between us." Althalos' smile was huge at that thought. It was a feeling he thought he'd never lose until he saw his Princess' face, so he decided to change the subject for the moment. "Father, this is your grandson."

The older Aelif pulled back to look down at the naked boy. "I heard that they were not normal-born before, but I never suspected that much difference. He looks so much like you. Your name child?"

"Thalosine...I don't know what to call any of you, although Esme's memory tells me who everyone is."

The adults looked at each other, but it was the elder who spoke first. "I'm Prince Dervaine, your grandfather. Princess Esme is your mother, and Prince Althalos is your father." He looked back at his son and soon-to-be daughter. "You need time, don't you? I can take him home until you have figured out what you plan to do?"

"Please, father. His grandmother has been waiting for him for some time now." Althalos gave a relaxed smile, that remained only as long as it took for his father and son to clear out of their suite. Then he went after his bondmate with an aggression he had not shown in months.

Esme damn near squeaked out her protest. "Damnit, All, why now?"

"You promised."

She rolled her eyes at him-not in the least interested in where this was going-but gave in just as he expected. "Oh, alright. But you owe me an actual conversation after this."

"Soon, I promise."