Sarai wakes one morning to a particularly dreadful nausea that has her running for a bucket and it is a pattern that continues for three days before Sarai begins suspect something more than a simple cold.
Aaravos is at her side, one hand resting at her back as she retches into the depths of a wooden bucket on the fourth morning, looking more and more worried by the day.
And Sarai has a sudden dawning realization, one that is both joy and terror entwined.
She couldn't be pregnant, could she?
Aaravos hands her a flask of water as she pulls back from the bucket and Sarai gratefully washes the taste of vomit from her mouth.
"Aaravos," she rasps, "Is there a way to...to tell if a person is with child?"
There is a sharp inhalation from her left as the warmth of Aaravos's magic sweeps over her and as Sarai turns, Aaravos is staring, a mixture of shock and delight in his bright, alien eyes.
"You are," he breathes, and in his right hand, nestled gently in his dark palm, a soft blue star glows.
"Oh my gods," Sarai says.
Aaravos nods.
"How far?" Sarai asks, past the lump in her throat, the tears in her eyes blurring the vision of her husband, who looks to be crying himself as he gently rests both hands against her stomach.
"A few weeks," he whispers. "Not far along at all."
"Um..." Sarai says, "how long do elven pregnancies last?"
Aaravos gives a weak laugh, "I don't know."
"Oh shit," Sarai says.
Aaravos nods in agreement. "There has not been a half-elf child that has walked this world before," he seems to struggle for words, "They will be something new, something bright and beautiful..."
He looks at her, determination sharp and clear on his face, "We will find a way out; I will not consign our child to a life within this tower."
Sarai's stomach continues to remain flat, no visible evidence to her pregnancy, though the morning sickness and Aaravos's spells say otherwise.
"Do you think that's normal?" Sarai asks as the days pass by, buried in research and feverish planning.
Aaravos makes a non-committal hum.
"I'm being serious," Sarai says.
"From what little I've found on human anatomy," Aaravos says with a sigh, "It varies from woman to woman."
"Less than helpful, love," Sarai tells him.
"I am merely telling you what I know, Sarai," Aaravos says, setting aside his book and beckoning her into his arms.
Sarai settles against his chest with a quiet huff. "I know that," she grumbles, "it's just...I...worry for the baby is all."
"They are well," Aaravos soothes, "They grow and they are healthy."
"That's good," Sarai says, stroking her stomach, wondering what her child will look like, if they will look more like their father or if they will look more like her.
"Have you thought of a name?" Aaravos asks softly as day begins to fade into night, the fire in the grate crackling to life with a wave of his hand, bringing with it a welcome warmth.
"Some," Sarai says. "Ava if a girl, maybe...Callum, if a boy? What do you think?"
"Any name you pick will suit the child," Aaravos murmurs, kissing her temple. "My people do not name the child until a month has passed since their birth. Then we ask the stars for their guidance, and meditate on what name might suit them best."
"So you've no objections to any name I pick?" Sarai teases.
"None at all," Aaravos says with a smile, "As long as it's within reason."
"Killjoy," Sarai says. "You hear that, baby?" she asks her stomach, "your father is a killjoy."
Aaravos laughs, warm and amused.
"Oh, I'm the killjoy," Aaravos says, and Sarai glances up in time to catch his eye-roll and she bursts into giggles.
She eventually falls asleep, and she dreams of a little boy with skin like the star-studded midnight sky, with eyes of brilliant gold. She dreams of freedom, of walking through fields of verdant green, with Amaya on one side and Aaravos on the other, their child cradled in her arms, walking free in the sunlight with no walls to cage them in, the only thing above them the beautiful boundless blue of a summer sky.
The breakthrough comes two weeks later, a ritual that will allow Aaravos to open a portal back. It's risky, a gamble, but they knew that when they began this endeavor.
"This early in the pregnancy," Aaravos says as he briskly gathers ingredients for the ritual, "they will be safer inside your womb than outside it. It would be too risky to take a newborn through."
Sarai packs away her things, everything she had when she came through plus a few more items. She tucks her pendant beneath her breastplate, and helps to clear a space on the floor.
The circle of Primal symbols etched into the stones will be the opening point for the portal.
They have begun to glow with a faint pearly light beneath Aaravos's hands as he sketches lines of power into the air above them.
Then he steps back, studying the configuration before nodding and turning to her. "You'll go first," he says quietly. "It's my crossing that will be more problematic."
"We'll get through this together," Sarai says firmly.
Aaravos smiles, leaning down to kiss her. "'Ahabik, Sarai. Always, zahrati, no matter what may happen."
"'Ahabik, Aaravos," Sarai says, the words like quicksilver on her tongue, "I'll see you on the other side."
"You will," Aaravos promises.
The portal opens with a thunderous roar, and on the other side, Sarai can see the dim light of glow-lichen and gray stone.
Sarai looks to Aaravos, who tilts his head towards the portal, eyes soft. "I'll see you on the other side," he murmurs, a spark of humor in his bright eyes.
Sarai laughs, kisses him again, and walks through.
The air on the other side is cool against her face, the scent of water and moss clinging to her first breath of a world outside the tower she's spent what could be years in.
"Ready?" she calls.
Aaravos nods, already striding towards the portal.
He's almost reached it, hands within reach, Sarai can almost pull him through, their hands are touching, when a rumble shakes the ground, the portal flickering.
Aaravos inhales sharply, looking up at something that Sarai can no longer see, eyes growing wide before an explosion knocks him back, away from the portal.
Sarai throws her hands up in an attempt to shield herself, bracing for pain, the pendant at her breast growing hot and then dulling to an icy chill.
She opens her eyes and there is a shield of starlight before her, glowing softly.
He had protected her.
Sarai can see Aaravos, lying still, unmoving, crimson slowly spreading across the stones, and a wail of anguish erupts from her throat. She lunges, trying to go back, to help.
She promised she wouldn't leave him alone!
The portal slams shut with a crack like shattering ice and Sarai's heart breaks with it.