"Well, this has been the week from hell." A masculine voice at the door said. Amarant slowly turned his head, wishing if he just ignored it, the world would just leave him alone. But unfortunately, it was just Steiner coming to darken his already bleak door. So he returned his eyes to the ceiling, resting his wrist on his forehead with a sigh.

"What do you want?"

"Maybe a human reaction out of you?" Steiner said, closing the door to formerly Freya's quarters behind him as he entered.

"What? Are you saying my-..." He swallowed hard. "Troll reaction isn't good enough?" It was funny how once he had confronted that horrible part of his identity he was using it so casually. There was no pride in being sired by a troll, even if Freya made no secret out of it.

"You punched Sir Fratley in the face!" When Amarant didn't respond, Steiner growled quietly. "As a knight I feel I should say that your behavior was brutal, thuggish and completely unnecessary!" He paused for a moment, regaining his composure. "But as your friend, I think you're right. He had no business being here." He sighed and looked away. "I cannot even imagine how I would feel if one of Lady Beatrix's former lovers showed up for her funeral. Nor indeed what needing to attend her funeral myself would feel like." He shifted slightly. "You were wise to not involve yourself in the funeral arrangements. It is so hard to have to say good bye, let alone having to give someone you love an appropriate send off."

Amarant didn't say anything, only rolled onto his side so he didn't have to look at the knight.

"Amarant, I know this is not easy, least of all for you, but we have all lost a friend here. Her and Beatrix were particularly close and I-..." He stopped with a painful sigh. "May I share something with you?" When Amarant didn't respond, he decided to continue. "When we all marched on the God of Death, I gave my very life so that you could succeed. It was Freya who took my soul as her strength. When she came back, she brought me back to life but ever since then, I have carried a little bit of her within me... And when she died..."

"It felt like a piece of your soul was being ripped out?" Amarant muttered.

"How did you know?"

"The same thing happened to me when Vivi died... It was his innocence but bizarre grasp on mortality that really pushed me through that battle... Struck me like an ax to the back when he died."

"But Vivi is not dead."

"That kid may look like Vivi, and may have his memories and whatever, but that isn't the boy that traveled with us. And no matter how hard he tries, he never will be."

"So that's why you have never liked this new Vivi."

He slowly pulled his knees up to his chest. "Can I help you with something?"

"No. In fact, I was wondering if there is something more I could do to help you." He took a step closer. "You have done a good job of shutting us all out so far, but you did come back and that does mean something." He sighed heavily. "No one was surprised when you took off, you needed some time to grieve by yourself. Although you were gone for longer than we liked. Where did you go anyway?"

"... Treno... I didn't even want to come back. I just... had something of Freya's..."

"Yes, I saw you pitch your necklace onto her pyre. Beatrix told me what it meant to her... and to you. It may not have been a brand new set of Dragoon armor or a whole Burmecian feast but it was the most meaningful thing offered today. Your primitive brawling aside, I think she would have been proud."

"Whatever." Amarant said, suddenly throwing himself onto his back. Following through with the motion, he brought himself to sit on the edge of the bed. Once there, he realized Steiner wasn't alone; in his arms he carried a tiny, wiggly bundle of pink fabric. Upon seeing it, he wrinkled his nose distastefully and stood up.

"Where do you think you are going?" Steiner asked.

"Somewhere far away from here." Amarant answered simply and tried to step around the knight.

But Steiner blocked his path. "You know very well that there is one rather large loose end to tie up." He looked down at the baby in his arms with a smile. "Beatrix and I have been taking care of her since you left. She is an absolute joy, you should be proud."

"I don't care, just get rid of it." He said as he started walking toward the door.

"How can you say such a thing? She is your daughter!"

He froze, one hand on the door knob. "She killed my wife."

"You look me in the eyes and tell me you don't want her."

Amarant turned, rage burning in his eyes and got right into Steiner's face. "I. Do. Not. Want. Her!" He enunciated. Steiner didn't break eye contact but gently pressed the baby into her father's chest. Instinctively he brought up his arms, taking the tiny burden. He sighed angrily before finally looking down at his daughter. The moment he looked at her, his breath caught in his chest. She had the face of a Burmecian with tiny tusks poking out of the corners of her mouth. Her eyes, though unfocused, were smoky gray, mirroring his own except with tiny flecks of emerald around her pupils. The chubby hands she reached up toward him each had five clawless fingers connected to wide, already muscular arms. Right above her right eye was an up swept cowlick in her silver red hair, just dark enough not to be called pink. She was such a strange amalgam of his and Freya's features but he somehow just couldn't stop tears from stinging the corners of his eyes.

"She's a charmer." Steiner said, reaching out to place a hand on his comrade's shoulder. But before he could even make contact, Amarant recoiled away, clutching the child to his chest like the knight was about to pluck her from his arms. They stood for a moment exchanging surprised and wary gazes before Steiner continued. "Beatrix and I have talked it over and have agreed that we could adopt her if you are unwilling or unable to take her but I think what is best for her is to be with her father."

Amarant slowly raised her up to rest on his chest, planting a soft kiss right between her stubby rodent ears. "I think I can tolerate to take her. For a little while anyway."

"I am glad to hear it. I would hate for Freya's death to be in vain." Steiner said, taking the blankie off his shoulder.

Amarant wordlessly reached out and took it, throwing it over his own shoulder. There were no words of thanks he could to say to this man that could possibly cover what he was feeling as he gently caressed the furry face of his offspring. Without another word, he turned and walked away. Stopping for no one as he left the castle, saying nothing as he exited the city. Only once he was outside the town did he finally stop, allowing his emotions to well over.

Freya, beautiful, merciful, generous Freya, the light of his life, had died so this miniature person could live. She carried this child, all the while knowing it would end her, knowing there was no future where the two could survive. There was no logic, no reason or rhyme that could explain such behavior. Or so he thought. So he thought until he saw her, Freya's perfect creation... No, their perfect creation. A joint effort between the half-troll Monk and the Burmecian Dragoon who marched on Necron, the God of Death. This was a gift Freya had intended for him. He had thought this foolish endeavor had been her giving up her future but in fact it had been her handing her future over to him. Her future in the shape of this wiggly bundle of slightly misshapen limbs and mismatched features.

Finally his legs gave out on him and he fell to his knees, wild grasses blowing all around him in the gentle Alexandrian wind. He put the blankie down on the ground in front of him, ever so tenderly placing his child on it. For a moment he sat watching her through blurry, tear soaked eyes as she disinterestedly bat at the bending grasses. "This is my daughter..." He whispered, taking her hand. As he placed his oversized finger in her palm, she wrapped her chubby fingers around it and squeezed with surprising strength. Tears ran unblocked down his cheeks. "Rasaleelah..." He said, feeling the name he had desperately given her in the heat of the moment roll across his tongue. But as he repeated it again, he decided it was perfect. He sat back, not taking his hand out of her grip, and raised his head to the heavens. "I don't know if it was your intention or not," He said as if Freya were sitting between the clouds, "But you have set me on the road of ruin. Trusting me with a child? What were you thinking?" He roughly rubbed the back of his free hand across his cheeks to clear away the tears. "For what it's worth... I... Appreciate it. I have faced so much loss in my life, what a wonderful way for it to finally lead to creation..." A handful of sobs escaped his mouth but were drown out by the laughs they were mixed with. But he sniffed hard and calmed his racing heart, a sad smile playing his lips.

He reached down and gathered his daughter in his arms, finally rising again to his feet. His eyes still unfocused through the tears, he looked down at his baby, realizing his whole life rested with her. "I'll try not to waste it..."

And there you have it! More than a year in the works and finally all that needs to be said has been said! I know a lot of you out there are rather disappointed that, yes, I killed Freya but I believe that Amarant wouldn't have the same sort of revelatory moment without it. He is the one I really wanted to change as a person here and I don't think that sort of change would have come about without, firstly admitting that he loved Freya, and secondly losing her, especially if he felt responsible.

Well, anyway. I may or may not write an epilogue, haven't decided. Maybe if I get enough requests I'll do one... Or maybe I will anyway because it's already half written... Heh heh heh! Happy reading!