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The battle may have been two weeks in the past, but now was when the truly hard work came into play. Now that no one in the Westernlands had a shred of doubt that Cyric was against Damien in this war, there was an influx in the population of the Easternlands that had Eireach's head spinning. He'd been instructed on how to deal with matters of war at his father's knee, but Eireach could admit to himself that he was glad to have Jareth there to help.

In all honesty, his body would rather be out on the training field than sitting here discussing matters of state, but his mind demanded that he be present for these things. It was his duty after all. And since when, he thought, his brow furrowing, did he prefer training over logical debate anyways?

"The farmers will fight tooth and nail for the soil on your western and southern borders," Jareth told Cyric now, an edge in his voice that warned of a smaller internal war if the matter wasn't dealt with swiftly and diplomatically.

"It's true, that soil is rich from its hibernation under Medb's rule." Eireach added, he knew that as well as Jareth did and knew that they had to find the right farmers for those lands as well. They couldn't waste such precious soil on men who might desert at any time. No, they had to find experienced and LOYAL men to care for those fields. They would have to be the best, not just because they'd need to be trusted, but because that soil would all but throw the harvest into the bushels FOR them.

"We're going to need to build a whole new town for all these people." Cyric's voice was quiet with wonder at the vast amounts of people who had deserted Damien for the Easternlands. Eireach knew that the amazement in those pale blue eyes would take time to clear. It would be hard for any King to realize that he was suddenly responsible for so many more lives. "That will have to wait till Damien tires of this petty little war of his…or I end him. Whatever comes first."

"Quite true," Jareth agreed with an encouraging smack to Cyric's back. "We can't waste the man power on something like that right now." Eireach nodded as his fingers slid down the lists again.

"They can build a tent city for now."

"We'll have to scout the camps for the able bodied and willing men who wish to join the troops." Jareth's words had both Cyric and himself already weary of the task ahead. It would take a lot of time, patience and heightened insight into character to get through this number of people.

"I'll send Sorsha out to look through those who want to join the ranks."

"I'm going with her, Cyric." Two sets of amused eyes looked to each other with wily waggles of brows that Cyric had obviously intended to keep to himself and Jareth. "And I saw that," Eireach said, crushing Cyric's hopes, as his fingers skimmed down the lists again. "I know she's capable and the gods know that giving her something to do would shut her up for five minutes." His friends chuckled, knowing what a handful the little brunette had been in the two weeks since the battle. "But she'll need help with this."

"Just for the sake of your manhood, don't try to help that woman walk." Jareth grimaced, but even now it held the hint of a humorous grin. His hand rubbed at his arm, "I held out a hand to help her when she looked a little tired last night and I thought she'd punch straight through the flesh on a hell path to my heart."

Cyric looked sympathetic, he'd taken his share of the brunt of Sorsha's irritation these weeks. "She's on edge," he said simply.

"She's not used to people taking care of her…or even giving a damn at all," Eireach added. "So she reverts to the emotions she knows the best." It was an excuse that no one would accept, unless they knew how she grew up…with WHOM she grew up. "Can't really blame her for that." He ignored it when his friends shared another eye waggle. Whine as they might, he'd taken more flack from her than anyone…and he was the one defending her.

"Anyways," Cyric started, weakly disguising escaping laughter as a coughing fit. "The farms…." Eireach latched onto the change of subject. He was much more willing to talk of things he UNDERSTOOD over the mystery that was Sorsha.

They fell into the lulling familiarity of land rights, treaties, ownership and the brain numbing diplomacy of it all. He felt right at home. It was simple, repetitive work that would easily keep his mind off of her. Work that would keep his thoughts on politics and off of the tingle along his arm as she's touched him two weeks ago.

Damn it.

He pushed through as best he could, not knowing how Cyric or Jareth could focus when a woman so dominated their thoughts. And by the gods, he thought, mentally slapping himself in the head, why was he comparing himself to men in love?

"So Eireach," Cyric said, authority in his voice that Eireach could be proud he'd had a hand training in there. "You and Sorsha will head out tomorrow." Despite the woman swimming distractingly through his thoughts, he'd followed the discussion.

They'd all settled on himself and Sorsha leaving the following morning for what they'd termed 'Tent City' for the time being. The trip would serve two main purposes, one for Sorsha and one that he would tend to. His goal was to lay the groundwork for when Cyric would come to delegate the separation of lands. Eireach would see to that by nosing around for everyone's opinions…and forming his own…on who the wisest and those with the best loyal roots of Tent City.

Sorsha's task would be just as arduous. She'd be the one who would sift through however many hopeful soldiers gathered to prove themselves to her. He knew that she wouldn't be easy to impress, she never was. At least that meant that Cyric's army would end up with only the best that Tent City had to offer.

"And I trust no one else as completely with the job." Cyric rolled up the lists and handed them over to Eireach, his eyes full of a mocking pity. "Guess you'll need these for tomorrow, I can't say that I envy you." Eireach grinned, tucking the lists under his arm

"Don't envy me dealing with Tent City or Sorsha if she starts paining?"

"I' sure he means a bit of both," Jareth teased. "Well, now that I'm done here with the manly work, I think I'm off to bother my lovely wife." His smile was wickedly roguish and there was a boyish gleam to his eyes. "I'm sure she hadn't had a reason to roll her eyes or get irritated with someone since I saw her last."

"It's a strange love you have." Eireach smirked at the whimsy in Jareth's eyes.

"I don't think either of us could survive without the lovely controlled chaos we live in." His eyes danced as memories flooded through him. "I have many wonderful memories of haranguing her into kissing me silent. It's quite effective," he said matter-of-factly. There was still a smile on Jareth's lips as he left to find his wife.

"Jeaule wouldn't stand for that at all. We tease and all, but-"

Eireach laughed, "No, the two of you prefer that sickly sweet love that gives everyone within a kilometer a stomach ache." He was pleased that his friend had sense of humor enough to chuckle along.

"I'm not so sure of the sickly, but my lovely bride is devastatingly sweet." Eireach was sure that Jeaule was and that was what he'd always thought he wanted. But lately it seemed as if his mind was rebelling against him, conjuring visions of a hot tempered, stubborn woman against his will. He needed to get her off his mind, he needed to go for a walk.

After saying goodbye to Cyric, Eireach turned his mind and his feet towards his library. He could almost feel the warmth of his fireplace melting the places that the winter chill of the castle hallways had placed in him. Yes, he thought, it would be nice to simple lounge in one of his plush armchairs with a good book, the only sounds around him the quiet crackle of the fire and the song of the pure white snow birds outside.

They had yet to have their snow to play in, but Eireach figured the snow wasn't far off now. The chilly winter air breezed through the open hallway windows, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows on the walls. Eireach had always hated the necessity of opening those windows at least once a week, but how else would the castle air out if they didn't? He supposed, as he huddled into the scant warmth of his shirt, that he would take being a little chilly in the hallways to the castle reeking of hundreds of smelly bodies.

But it wasn't simply the sounds of the snow birds he'd been thinking of that were drifting in with the breeze. The sound was of steel on wood, irregular strokes which meant someone was taking out a little frustration on the pole, and it had him rolling his eyes. Eireach didn't need to see to know that it was Sorsha down there, wound be damned, getting herself back into fighting shape.

He turned to a window, despite himself, and laid his hands on the cold stone of the windowsill. She was down there, as he'd imagined, bundled in JUST enough to keep the chill off. Her twin blades were dancing over the wooden pole, to its detriment, as if it were a demon sent to kill her. If he hadn't known, he might never have guessed that she'd been injured, might never have guess that a mere two weeks ago, white steel had speared through her thigh.

Thinking of that day brought an unconscious hand to his shoulder. He could have been a LOT worse off if it hadn't been for that hell cat down there, currently turning the pole to wood shavings. Thanks to her surprising act of selflessness, he merely had an awkward stiffness he would have to accommodate for until he learned to move with it.

The sound of her pained grunt drifted up to his window and his brow knotted as she defied it, getting up to practice anew. Was this all there was to the girl? Could war, fighting and all this darkness be the true core of her? No, he relented, feeling a bit guilty. He'd seen the vulnerability in her. She'd cried herself nearly to sleep on his shoulder that night at the gala dinner, because of a mother who hadn't known the treasure she'd created. She had stepped in front of an arrow for him, knowing that where it would injure her, it would have killed him. She'd even helped prepare the wound on his arm when he'd been unable.

Yes, it was an injustice he did her to think that darkness was the core of her. He swore he'd never think it again.

Jeaule was thrilling over the baby as they walked. Sarah had felt it move for the first time and that maternal glow was simply blinding right now. Of course, the two couldn't possibly tell Jareth that he'd missed the first movement, so that was something they'd keep to themselves. For now, Sarah had wanted to take a walk, something within her needed to walk these halls. It wasn't as if her happiness had any REAL power, but it was nice to think that she and Jeaule were spreading it through a castle that had only seen such darkness for so long.

Though she didn't look, she knew she would see the 'statue' of Medb still out in the courtyard if she did. She hadn't gone down to see it, though that same something, most likely a disgruntled conscience of some sort, had wanted to. It had wanted to step in front of her stone tomb and gloat, just a little, she assured herself. But instead, she stayed wise and walked the hallways, ridding them of Medb's lingering presence.

"So what's been the most horrible thing about the pregnancy?"

Sarah laughed that THAT would be her first real question about it, "It's not really so terrible. Well, I admit the first while is kind of an ordeal. No one likes throwing up and generally feeling like stable scrapings." Jeaule's eyes twinkled merrily. "No, honestly, I think the worst thing about all of this is not being able to eat sugar."

"That seals it," Jeaule said, a sudden teasing seriousness to her face, "I'm not having babies."

"Oh, yes you will." Sarah said, rubbing her hand over an abdomen that was FINALLY beginning to show her condition. It was like a little miracle, knowing what was growing within her. And knowing that it belonged to her and Jareth, that they'd made it together, well that just made the miracle spectacular. "There's a magic about it that counters any pain or inconvenience. You'll see."

Those tawny eyes told Sarah that she would indeed…one day, "As long as they look like their father." Sarah stopped, shocked at her friend's words.

"You're joking right? Can you even imagine the amazing combinations you two could end up with?" Sarah could see it, just as she could see her own baby…either Jareth's blonde hair with her hazel eyes, a dreamy combination, or her raven hair with his bewitching eyes. Either way…but wow, she was easily distracted. "Can you imagine if that baby ends up with Cyric's chocolate locks and your golden eyes…wouldn't that be a heartbreaker combination? Not to mention if it got your platinum hair with that piercing pale blue of his. Oh," she let her imagination fly to the beautiful children that her friends would make. "You BETTER have kids!" Jeaule laughed, obviously enchanted by the thoughts she'd never figured on.

"I suppose I will have to, if only to test your theories."

"Damn straight, besides, we'll have to force at least one set of our beautiful offspring to love each other," Sarah joked. The two women laughed until they turned a corner and saw the most interesting sight of the day, Eireach, eyes transfixed on the training field below. There was no doubt in either of their minds of the why of it. "Is that something that's happening more regularly now?" Jeaule nodded, a dreamy look in her eyes that Sarah attributed to her newlywed status…even as she admitted that her own gaze probably looked much the same.

"Yes, ever since the battle, it seems like there is something more there than there was. You know that Sorsha took that arrow on purpose don't you?" Sarah was truly lost now. "Yeah…it's true. I didn't have to ask anyone to see it in her eyes. She took that arrow for him, jumped in the air behind him and let it sink into her leg instead."

Sarah's eyes widened, "Wow."

"Wow indeed."

It was there in his eyes, Sarah had seen something akin to that look once. But there was a fire in his eyes that had never been there for her. It brought a smile to her face to see it, he'd found her, the girl Sarah had sent him here for. She'd known he would, known that someone would catch his eye, even as he doubted it. Just as she knew that he hadn't loved her anymore, even when she'd first sent him here, his heart had been his own.

But no longer, she mused as she watched him, a slow smirk spreading over his face as he watch Sorsha below, "I'd say he's good and sunk, wouldn't you?"

"I'd say he's at the bottom of the sea, Sarah."

"Well…we'll just have to start prodding around Sorsha to see if it's mutual, won't we?" Jeaule giggled as Sarah turned away, letting Eireach have his time at the window, there were other hallways to cleanse.

Kindraa was STILL in one of her moods. Well, it was the ONLY damned mood she seemed to have since the battle and it was starting to get very old. In her temper, not only had she shredded half his clothing, but meat and sugars had become a very dim, very treasured memory for him. Damien was tired of dealing with the temper when he had no idea what had caused it, but she never said the why's of anything she did. So he'd have to risk asking.

He found her in his chambers, as he often did, fuming in front of a roaring fire. Her eyes seemed glued to the flames dancing in his expansive fireplace. Never before had such a blaze been lit in there. It was large enough for him to stand inside it with him arms outstretched, but since there was a fire larger than he inside the fireplace right now and a very ill tempered demon tending it…he didn't want to picture himself in there.

"Kindraa…?" His voice was quiet, not wanting to disturb her if she was in a mood to be quiet.

"I'm trying to see…."

"See what?"

"The girl," she answered simply. Since it was quite obvious he would get no more from her than that at the moment, he simply took the seat next to Kindraa and peered into the flames as she did. He tried to see what she was looking for, but was only rewarded with watering eyes. "She evaded me," Kindraa said a moment later, the flames falling to a charming, crackling fire.

"Who did?" Damien chanced asking, but Kindraa seemed amiable for the moment.

"Kael's girl."

"Oh, their female general," he said laughing derisively. Her hand was at his throat in an instant.

"Do not insult her, Damien." Tiny, warning flames spit at the ends of her hair and in those frightening red eyes of hers. "You insult her, you insult me." She let him go and her eyes went back to the fire, something distant and wrathful in them that unsettled him. "I want myself back."

(A/N: Corny chapter title, I know, but oh man, I needed to get this chapter out for you guys, didn't want to skip again! So, two chapters posted within a few days of each other to make up for missing last Saturday…that sound good? Hope it does because that's exactly what I did. LOL Anywho…hope you enjoyed the chapter, not a lot going on besides some light being shone on Kindraa's own plans in this. LOL But yes, I know people haven't had much of a chance to review chapter 10, but these are those who have done so at this point and made me a happy chicka:

darklady26, Kaline Reine, Kerichi, notwritten and roguegambit

I know that there are other's of my faithful readers that will review, but alas, I have to post this chapter now, so your names are lost this week…my fault though. LOL I'll put your names TWICE on the next chapter's A/N…how does that sound? LOL)