Author's NoteS: The illustration for this chapter is in process, and should be up by tomorrow.

By the time they had ridden all the way back in worsening visibility, swept the snow away from the stable and gotten Emeril settled down into his spacious stall, Elforen was pretty sure he never wanted to see snow ever again. His hands and feet were numb, and despite how tightly he had laced his boots, snow had gotten down into them and was melting against his legs. Brekke was shivering like a leaf in the wind, and he couldn't be more happy to see his front door, even covered in a snow drift two feet tall. The wind might have calmed some on the way back, but the snow was picking up: giant fluffy flakes that fell quietly into each other and covered everything in a thick layer of white. By the time they had swept the doorway clean of snow, it had covered his cloak completely, and they had to dust each other off. Elforen breathed a sigh of relief in opening the door. Everyone was home under his roof-he felt like several pounds of worry slid off of him into the snow as they stomped their way in, trying to make as little mess as possible.

The warmth hit his face at the same time that the noise hit his ears: pained cries from the bedroom, hushed talking, and shouting from the back of the house. Elforen just stood there for a moment, soaking in the heat, and felt the fatigue of the hard ride he had just done. Time was hard to tell with the snowstorm outside, but it was probably close to three in the morning. Beside him, more full of energy than anyone should have at this time of night, Brekke was already shaking her cloak off and hanging it up in the closet. She neatly added her hat and gloves and boots, and Elforen smiled to himself as he slowly started to remove his cold-weather gear. Her attention to details and desire for orderliness came directly from her mother, and it was always evident when they were together how very alike they were. She swept past him in a rush, pausing only to cuff her sister on the back of the head where she sat over a cup of something hot in the kitchen.

"About time you showed up." Genne glared at her under the fringe of her sagging blue hair and as soon as Brekke stepped past her to her old room, made an obscene gesture at her back. The cries temporarily grew louder, and Elforen hurried to remove the rest of his snowy things and find out how Mae was doing. He reached the door of the bedroom just as Mae got quiet again. He peeked in to the doorway, anticipation in his chest. Mae was crouched on the floor, with her back pressed against the sideboards of the bed. Her silver hair was sweaty and had mostly come out of its ponytail, and Zarabethe was at her side, holding one of her hands and supporting her shoulder with the other hand. He frowned momentarily: Lorel should have been at her side as well, and where was Kalibose? He heard an angry shout from the room next to them, high-pitched, then a low sarcastic response, and he had a good idea where they both were at. Brekke threw her medical satchel off in one motion and knelt in front of Mae, speaking quietly to get her attention.

"Hey Aunt Mae, don't worry, I'm here. Cold hands." She pulled up Mae's tunic to touch her heaving belly, and Elforen dropped his eyes to the ground as a courtesy. He could hear Lorel and Kalibose continue their heated argument next door, and shook his head in impatience. He wanted nothing more than to toss the both of them out in the snow-who gets into a fight when their mate is having a baby? He crossed his arms and stood up to go out there, when he saw Brekke pull Mae's shirt back down and smile at her reassuringly.

"Everything's fine, she's just a couple weeks early. In fact, you're doing great: she should be here by the morning. A snow baby!"

Brekke beamed at her aunt, and Mae smiled wanly back at her. The relief in the room was almost palpable: Lorel was perfectly capable of telling a living baby from a still one, but Brekke was, for all intents and purposes, a professional. If Elforen had more than a few seconds' respite from the chaos of his house right now, he might have reflected on the notion that his oldest daughter was all grown up, and how proud he was of her, but he heard a shout that sounded like Kalibose was getting riled up next door, and he stepped closer to where Mae was shifting position so she could stretch her legs.

"Mae, do you want me to take Kalibose out for a bit, or do you want him in here with you?"

Mae didn't even hesitate as she used the bed to pull herself to standing. "Take him, try to get him to calm down. I'm not going anywhere for awhile."

Zarabethe flashed him a grateful look as she gave her arm to Mae. Elforen strode into the next room with purpose in time to hear Lorel hiss at Kalibose.

"You are stressing her out, you need to stop."

Kalibose's face was so flushed he looked like he had spent the summer in Stranglethorn getting a tan. "I am getting really fucking tired of people telling me where I need to be! That is my mate, and my child in there, and I am not leaving!"

Elforen didn't even pause; he slung an arm around his brother's shoulders and for once didn't get irritated at how he had to reach up to do so. "Hey there, Brother, you look like you could use a break. Come walk with me."

He didn't wait for Kalibose to reply, but pulled him bodily out of the room with his not-so-casual embrace. He was too surprised to resist at first, but once they got to the doorway where Mae was, he dug his heels in. He sputtered as Elforen pulled against him, trying to get him to walk past.

"For the last time, I'm not leaving Mae-"

"Go, Kalibose." Mae's voice came from inside, tired and no-nonsense. Kalibose looked in the room like she had told him to jump off a cliff. She pressed the heel of her hand against her forehead and closed her eyes, but she seemed calm.

"Elf won't let you miss anything. Calm down some, then come be in here with me, okay?"

Brekke piped up from where she was digging through her satchel. "I've got her, Uncle Kalibose. She and the baby are fine, it's just waiting now."

Kalibose didn't answer, but he reluctantly let Elforen pull him away from the door into the living room. He hadn't noticed it before, but as he took his and Kalibose's heavy cloaks out of closet, he spotted a pair of blue violet ears and a tuft of red hair sticking out of a blanket on the couch. Lorel had at least transferred Zane to another room before getting into an argument with her brother.

He pulled his spare cloak around him and strode back through the living room, into the kitchen where Genne sat with her pandaren friend. She glanced up at him with wary eyes as he pointed a finger at her. "I'm going out to the shop, and you better be here when I get back. Both of you. We're not done talking yet, Genne."

She dropped her eyes back down to her mug, but he was pretty sure he caught a sulky "Yes, sir" under her breath, and satisfied, he continued out to the back door, Kalibose following reluctantly behind. Elforen grabbed the keys to the shop and with some effort, got the back door open. Kalibose stomped after him, moodily kicking the snow out of the way. Once they were out in the heavily falling snow however, he proved more useful-Elforen saw him cast several precise fireballs down the path, melting the drifts in front of them, so that when they got to the door of the shop, there was hardly anything blocking the door. He unlocked the door and quickly stepped inside without waiting for his brother. He'd been in here earlier today, but every iota of warmth had fled out of here with the snow, and he went immediately to the fire to warm the room up. As he opened up the vents and stoked the embers, he wracked his brain for something to say to distract his brother. He was obviously panicking and it wasn't helping anyone-stress was bad for a woman in labor, at least that was what he had gathered from his wife and daughter. Kalibose had always been high strung and overprotective of his mate, and Elforen could understand it. He was extremely protective over his family, and he hadn't been through a portion of the abuse that his little brother had. He felt poorly equipped to talk his brother down from his panic.

After a few minutes, the fire had built up enough that it was starting to warm the air around them, and he adjusted the vents to keep it at that level. He turned around, rubbing this hands together to warm them. Kalibose had been pacing during this process, and without preamble, he started talking.

"How do you stand it?" The pitch of his voice was climbing higher with every sentence, and Elforen's heart went out to him. He was terrified.

"I mean, she's in pain, but she's supposed to be in pain."

Kalibose gesticulated in such an exaggerated manner that Elforen moved him a few paces away from the rack of forging tools. He didn't seem to notice-he wasn't even looking at anything at all. He dug both hands into his stringy blue hair and stared into the void beyond. "How-how am I supposed to be okay with this? I don't know what to do for her at all. What can I do, besides just say, Sorry you're in pain, but deal with it?"

Kalibose's eyes snapped up to his and focused on his face. "What if, after everything that's gone on, all the things that have already gone wrong, something happens? How in the world do you handle that? Especially after-" he gestured vaguely outside, to the northwest corner of the property.

Elforen, in spite of the years, in spite of the healed hearts and the time that he had had to come to terms with things, felt the familiar icy pit in the center of his stomach. After you lose your only son.

Kalibose stopped his pacing, and slumped listlessly on a bench by the door. He leaned forward and held his head in his hands. "I'm losing my fucking mind."

For a few minutes neither of them spoke. Elforen crossed his arms and leaned against a support pillar. The only light in the room was the glow from the forge and it threw everything into deep shadow. With the wind died down almost completely, the air inside was still and waiting. He took a breath, and spoke.

"There is nothing that can prepare you for the process of witnessing the birth of your child, either your first or your fifth. Do you know how I handled it when it was Zara going through it?"

Kalibose lifted his head, his face a wasteland of raw emotion.

"I trusted her. I trusted my wife, because I can prepare, or panic, or yell, or whatever, but in the end, it's up to her, and her strength. Mae says it's the right time?"

This was something he'd been wanting to ask Kalibose when he had him alone, but he hadn't gotten a chance yet. Last year, right before Mae had gotten pregnant, she and Kalibose had bowed out of several family affairs due to her headaches. Both he and Zara had been concerned for her health, but he had not pried, until one day he had looked out the window to see his brother coming up the path to his house by himself. He had a look on his face similar to what he had now: wild with worry, raw with emotion, and needing an ear. He told him all about Mae's gift of prophecy, about how she didn't want to make a big deal about it, and how it seemed to be getting worse lately and neither of them had any idea what to do about it. It was in that moment of quiet confession that Elforen realized something that he hadn't ever put words to before. Here in Elwynn Forest, far away from the drama of Darnassus, they had built their own little familial unit. This was not, however, what made him sit down soundly in a chair in the middle of Kalibose's speech: he realized that in the hierarchy of this new family, he was the patriarch. He was the one everyone looked to when they needed a leader or a father figure, and the thought humbled him. He had listened with a compassionate ear to Kalibose, but could offer no real advice. It seemed to get better when she found out she was pregnant, but they hadn't had a time to speak of it again.

Kalibose nodded, some of the panic finally leaving his face. "Yes."

"And you trust Mae?"

His brother sighed, not without a little of his usual snark. "Of course."

"Then you just have to keep on trusting her. She'll get through it, you'll get through it, and it will all be worth it."

Elforen could see that Kalibose was calmer, and sat down opposite him on a stool black with soot.

"Either that or you're going to give yourself a heart attack before you even hit your hundreds."

Kalibose snorted, not quite a laugh, but his personality shone through his emotions, and it was a start.

"That would not surprise me in the slightest."

There was a noise at the door, a scuffling about, and both of them looked up, Kalibose immediately getting to his feet. Genne stepped in, her arms wrapped around her. She had gone out without a wool cloak or head covering, and big fluffy flakes dotted her unruly blue mohawk. She had exchanged her sullen glare for one of sheepish confusion.

"Sorry Dad, Uncle Kalibose, but Aunt Mae's calling for you. She says she has a headache?"

She shrugged as if the words meant nothing to her. Elforen saw a look of horrified realization come over Kalibose's face. He slapped the vents closed on the fire, starting the shut down process.

"Go Kalibose, we'll get this locked up. Genne, grab that window."

Kalibose bolted out the door without a word, and Genne hurried over to prop open one of the slatted windows that ran around the top edge of the building. Together they fanned the excess smoke outside.

"Dad, is Aunt Mae okay? She was making an awful noise."

Elforen shut the windows again, satisfied with the cleanliness for now. He led Genne out into the newly fallen snow. "I hope so. Let's get back in the house."

As soon as Elforen opened the door, he knew something was wrong. Mae was screaming-a wordless, nonsensical wail that chilled Elforen to the bone. This was not pain, or even grief, but fear. He caught Genne's shoulders and moved past her to rush into the house. He didn't know quite what he expected to see in Brekke's old room-swirling purple magic, objects on the walls crashing and falling, or more macabre, a gallon of blood, but the sight that met him was much more pitiable. Mae was kneeling on the ground crying with her hands pressed to the sides of her head. Lorel and Zarabethe were on each side of her, awkwardly patting her arms but it was obvious they had no idea what was upsetting her. Brekke was there with one hand on Mae's belly and she hummed softly to herself as she monitored both her and the baby's health. It was obvious that labor had progressed while they had been outside talking: there was a pile of towels on the floor and Mae was now wearing one of Zara's old nightgowns. Brekke had unpacked her medical satchel onto a nightstand that she had commandeered for the night. But Mae didn't even appear to be affected by her labor at all: her terrified cries had no rhythm and she didn't look like she knew what was going on at all. Kalibose was kneeling in front of her, and at the look on his face, Elforen stopped his questions and just stayed back out of the way. Kalibose was calm. He was speaking quietly to Mae, and although he wasn't happy at her state of mind, he was not panicking. He had completely put his own emotional state aside to help her, and Elforen didn't think he'd ever had as much respect for his brother as he did right now.

"Mae? I'm right here Mae, can you hear me?" Something changed in her face, and she lifted her head. It was like a blind person seeking the light-her head wobbled in place, and her eyes stared somewhere off into the corner.

"Kalibose?" her voice trembled. She sounded as if she were speaking far away, from wherever her mind was. She reached blindly for him, grasping at the front of his robes. "Kalibose, they're running, and they're screaming, oh Kalibose it's awful, someone is hurting me-"

Her voice broke off into a gasp and a moan as a contraction washed over her. Kalibose's face paled visibly, even from across the room, but instead of running or getting upset he held her against him, and whispered to her, his voice catching minutely in his throat.

"No one's hurting you, love. You're safe, I've got you."

"They're trapped, Kalibose, and everything is cold and oh it hurts so bad—"

"That's not you, Mae, that's far away from here." He stroked the side of face, and slowly her whimpers quieted and her eyes closed.

"What do you see, Mae?"

"Avalanche." The far-away tone of her voice was changing—with every word she sounded more like herself.

"Where is it?"

"Mountains. Snow. Wolves. Dun Morough?" As she spoke, she opened her eyes-they had been blazing much more fiercely, and now they shone their normal shade of silver. They were still slightly unfocused though, and he lifted her chin up so she could see him.

"That's not here. It has nothing to do with you. Come back here with me, just let that go."

She blinked, then shook her head. "I, I think-" and then several things happened at once. Brekke stopped her humming and leaned back from her abruptly. Mae's entire body stiffened, and she grabbed Kalibose's shoulder with one hand and the edge of the bed with the other. Lorel and Zarabethe had both scooted away when Kalibose got her attention, and so Mae managed to pull herself entirely to her feet, a low, growling moan coming from the back of her throat. Elforen took a step back, unsure of anything at this point. Was this part of her visions? Was something going wrong? Brekke got under Mae's arm and helped hold her upright.

"Just breathe, Aunt Mae, you're fine, just breathe." Mae followed direction, and stopped moaning to blow out air. Brekke leaned away from her to speak. "Mom, grab the blankets, its almost time. Aunt Mae's in transition."