Disclaimer: See Chapter One.

Thanks to tortallanrider, once again. Hope you enjoy. And don't forget to REVIEW!

Chapter Four: Cravings

The Palace Guard had just called the two o'clock hour of the morning when Jonathan came awake to Alanna shaking his shoulder gently and calling his name. Even in the near total darkness, Jon could see the glitter of his wife's eyes.

"Yes, my love, I'm awake. Was there some reason for waking me up at two o'clock in the morning?"

"Your daughter is hungry, again."

He sighed. "What is it –" He yawned. "Excuse me. What is it that she wants this time?"

"Three drumsticks from dinner would be nice."

"I'm assuming you mean that Gallan chicken? I don't know if there's any left, darling; they were pretty popular at dinner. But I'll see if there's any left!" he added quickly before she could loose her temper on him.

She pulled him down, kissing him gently. "Thank you, love. I won't miss these cravings once the baby's born." He chuckled, and grabbed his dressing robe. He kissed her again, wrapping the blankets around her more securely, and left the room quickly.

He went down the many stairs between their chambers and the kitchens three floors below. The Cook chuckled when she saw him. "What'll it be tonight, Majesty?"

"You know, with as often as I'm down here, you can probably skip the formalities," he pointed out, scrubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Very true, your Majesty. This makes the fifth time this week, I think, sir. But I could never bring myself to go beyond formality for such a short period of time."

"Point t-taken," Jon yawned again. "You can address me in whatever fashion you feel is most comfortable, even if it's just 'Hey! You with the crown!'"

The young woman chuckled. "So what is she asking for tonight, sir?"

"Three drumsticks of the Gallan chicken from dinner. Is there any left?"

"There are exactly three drumsticks, Majesty. Just make sure she doesn't get sick eating like this."

"I think she's making up for all the breakfasts she's missed, actually. Oh, could you get a pitcher of water, too, so I don't have to wake up again? Thanks."

"All right, there's her food. Will you need help carrying it upstairs?"

"No, but I thank you for the offer."

Fifteen minutes later, when he reentered the bedroom, Jonathan found his wife asleep, curled up with his pillow. He smiled as he put the food and water down on the nightstand, and crawled back into bed, wrapped around his wife.