Authors notice: I don't know if anyone's going to read this anymore but I've decided to finish it. During the last couple of years I've had so many new ideas for this story that I finally need to write them down. I could say I'm sorry for the immense delay but sorry doesn't quite cut it, I believe. But here you go anyway.

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Her gaze rested on the form of her sleeping husband as the morning sun greeted her on the balcony. Ming had woken up early, as was her habit, to prepare for the daily routines of a queen. Jansen, on the other hand, spent every minute possible in the land of slumber, sprawled on their bed as if the matress was going to run away if he did not hold on tight to it. She did not mind - there was a special sort of solace she found in his sleeping form. There had been too much worry in his eyes off late, worry for her and their unborn child. As he slept, so did the thoughts that troubled him.

In his sleep he was beautiful, a mess of dark tresses of hair and spots of silky skin, dark eyelashes fluttering every now and then.

She had lived long enough to know the eventual fate of humans - to grow old, in both body and mind, and eventually fall to eternal sleep. This worried him, she knew it. Not the fact that she knew it, but that it would happen to him and she would have to witness it. She could not claim it did not sadden her. She could not look him in the eye and say she never thought of it.

She did, but just because he did too.

Ming had ruled Numara over a millenia and during that time she had seen youths lose their hair as age took them, eyes lose their sharpness and minds their memories. She was familiar with the effects of time. She had prepared herself for it before she accepted his proposal. The knowledge made her sad, at times, but rather than dwell on what she would one day lose, she kept her mind on what she gained.

And that was why her eyes rested on his sleeping form. All the years with him would be worth it, the memories would carry her on after his passing.

One could not rule a kingdom if one was constantly worried about loss.

In the world of mortals one of infinite life was at disadvantage - the choices were few: love while you can or spend your years in solitude. Kaim and Sarah were the lucky ones, they did not have to make this choice. Before Jansen came along Ming thought herself lucky as well: her status as the thousand year old queen was one of solitude. It had been easy to wall herself away from others emotionally, to make her status the insurmountable chasm between herself and everyone else. To keep herself from the pain, she had rationalized.

Until he stumbled in on her playing the harp.

Jansen had had her fascinated from the start and soon she had noticed there was no choice. It was something he did not understand.

She knew fully well he was going to die. But at the moment, this very minute, he was alive. He was there to hold, to kiss, to touch - one could not love loneliness. No matter what she told herself she knew that that was what her solitude had been. Loneliness.

Her fingers slid slowly down to her slightly swollen belly. Jansen was wrong about her regretting their marriage one day, the day the first grays made it into his hair and wrinkles onto his face. She had lived in Numara almost all of her life on this world and knew nothing about the one she came from. She had lived here, in this palace, as long as she could remember. But only after he came along it felt like home.

She knew she would never be alone again.