Thank you, Carrie, for rearranging my words into something readable! Also thank you to everyone who reads, alerts and favourites, and a special thank-you to those of you who review and PM me.

~0~O~0~

"Is there any chance of me having some privacy?"

Meredith and Martin glanced at one another, and Martin grimaced at the question. "I'm sorry, Gabby. We all agreed – even Anders did – that Meredith and I would watch over anyone who went into the fade; it's for your own protection."

"Besides, Anders would kill us if he found out we'd left you alone," Meredith added.

"I won't be alone," she replied with a nod toward Gillespie, who sat next to her on the bed.

"That's not that same, Gabby, and you know it," Meredith countered.

"We'll do our best not to listen, but we have to concentrate on you," Martin said with an apologetic shrug.

"Oh, all right," she conceded with a sigh, and lay back on the bed. Gillespie lay down next to her and took her hand.

"Who's going to put us to sleep?" he asked her.

"We'll put each other to sleep," she answered. "It's tricky, but Anders and I managed it. We have to get the timing exact, though."

"Can't you put yourselves to sleep?" Martin asked. Both mages shook their heads.

"It's not possible," Gillespie answered. "We'd lose consciousness before the spell was complete, and wouldn't be able to commit enough mana to it – we'd awaken after a few seconds. At least this way Gabby and I will be touching and will be able to absorb each other's mana."

"What about waking you up?" Meredith asked. "Don't you need someone to reverse the sleep spell?"

Gillespie looked at Gabby. "We'll just cast a light sleep spell," he said to her, and she nodded. "Once you know we've left the fade, you should be able to rouse us quite easily."

"All right – whenever you're ready," Meredith replied.

Gabby closed her eyes. "Ready, Gil?"

"Ready, Gabs."

"On three – one, two, three…"

Almost instantaneously, they found themselves standing and holding hands, and allowed themselves a few seconds to adjust.

"Well done, Gabs," Gillespie said.

"It doesn't always work," she replied with a shrug as they looked around, the two of them suddenly exchanging a concerned look.

"Where is everyone?" Gillespie asked, confused. He and Gabby were alone in the raw fade; there was no sign of the magi and templar spirits they'd encountered there previously.

Gabby's stomach knotted and she felt a flood of heat wash over her. Was this the moment she'd dreaded? Had Cullen finally gone to the Maker?

Gillespie watched her carefully for a moment, unsure of what to say. Leaving her to her thoughts, he released her hand and walked a short distance away, not really knowing what he was looking for, but everywhere was the same; there was nothing to be found in this barren and monotonous place.

"Hello?" he called out. "Is anyone still here? Cullen?"

He glanced over at Gabby, who looked back at him with a troubled expression. She slowly walked over to him and began to speak, but hesitated.

"What do we do now?" he asked.

"I was just about to ask you the same thing," she replied.

"We can wait for a bit, if you like, see if anything happens. How long will we be out for?"

"Not long," she answered, "maybe an hour or so?"

"Or we could go back and let the templars wake us," he suggested.

She cast her eyes down to the ground and thought for several moments, then slowly shook her head. "I think they've finally moved on, Gil," she said heavily. "Let's go back."

Silently, he slipped an arm around her shoulder and they closed their eyes, willing themselves to leave the fade.

Martin and Meredith, noticing that the mages' jerky movements had ceased, shook them gently and called to them. They awoke, and Gillespie turned towards Gabby, who stared up at the ceiling.

"Thank you all for your help," she said quietly in a polite way of asking them to leave.

Gillespie sighed, let go of her hand and sat up on the bed. "You know where we are, Gabs."

She nodded as the three men took their leave. Meredith was the last one out of the room, and he turned to look at her before he left.

"I'm sorry Gabby," he said sadly. "Really, I am."

"Thank you," she replied, and, as he closed the door, she cradled her belly and closed her eyes.

~0~O~0~

Varel and Nathaniel, who by now were packed and ready to leave, waited outside Ambrose's office as the Knight-Commander briefed Ser Riley, a senior templar who would be left in charge of the Tower during his absence. Chadwick, who was to accompany them for most of the journey before making his way to Denerim, also waited with them. Ambrose had invited Padraig into his office for the briefing, and Varel wondered why; if Nathaniel was similarly curious he made no sign – he'd hardly spoken a word since Talbot's revelation, and stood leaning against a wall with his arms folded, staring into space.

Ambrose's door opened, and Padraig stepped out, looking rather pleased with himself.

"Guess what?" he said excitedly to Varel and Nathaniel. "Ambrose has asked me if I'd consider taking up the vacant First Enchanter's position!"

"Really?" Varel asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise. "What did you say?"

"Well," he said, scratching his head, "I was a bit taken aback, to be honest. He told me that apparently all of the mages look up to me, and that I was inspirational during the fight with the demon!"

"You were," Nathaniel said quietly from behind them.

"Well, thank you," Padraig replied, looking bemused as Ambrose's offer finally began to sink in. "It won't happen straight away, of course," he explained. "I still have to take my Harrowing, and I have to take loads of tests on the theory and application of magic, and I have to specialise in Primal and so on, but…" He chuckled to himself. "Who'd have thought it? An apostate Warden becoming First Enchanter? You couldn't make that up!"

"Is this what you want?" Varel asked him.

"I quite like the idea, actually," Padraig replied, "and Ambrose is all right – a bit stuffy, perhaps, but he's a decent bloke. What really impressed me was that during the fight with the demon, everyone looked out for each other – the mages stayed to help the templars, and the injured templars did their best to defend them. Anders always told me that templars and mages hate each other."

"Perhaps that is how it used to be," Varel guessed, "and Anders probably has his own reasons for distrusting the templars."

"Well, perhaps Anders has the right idea sometimes," Nathaniel muttered sourly. "They're not all honourable men, are they? And what's taking him so long?" he asked the two of them, pointing at Ambrose's door.

"I think they're nearly done," Padraig replied, and looked at Nathaniel with concern. "Are you all right, Nate?"

"No, I'm not all right," he snapped, rubbing his forehead. "It's going to take us a week to get home, and…"

Varel placed a hand on Nathaniel's shoulder. "We're all worried," he said softly, "but we must keep our wits about us, Nathaniel."

Nathaniel grunted and glanced at Talbot's door again. Padraig walked over to it and knocked; after a moment, it was opened by Ser Riley.

"I think they're eager to get going," Padraig told him.

"I'm coming, now," Ambrose called from inside, and stepped out, passing a few documents to his replacement. "I leave the Tower in your capable hands, ser," he said. "I may be away for several weeks; I shall send news at regular intervals. I have every confidence in you."

The two men bowed to one another, and Ambrose approached Varel, Nathaniel and Chadwick. "I am ready to depart at your convenience, gentlemen."

"We're ready now," Nathaniel said impatiently. "We've put our belongings on Kester's boat – yours included – and he's waiting for us."

"Then let us waste no more time," Ambrose said, and joined the others at the main door. Padraig saw them out, and stopped Nathaniel as they exited the Tower.

"Come back and visit, Nate," he said as they shook hands. "Bring Gabby and Anders, as well – I'll miss them."

"I'll do my best," Nathaniel answered with a strained smile.

"They'll be fine, you know – haven't you always said so? That the Keep could be a smoking ruin and yet the two of them would still be running around, playing jokes on each other as they burned?"

"I probably did say something like that," Nathaniel answered with a wry snort. "I'm a morbid sod sometimes, aren't I?"

"Yes, you are," Padraig laughed, "But I'll still miss you."

Nathaniel nodded and shook Padraig's hand again. "Me too, Padraig. Good luck to you, First Enchanter."

Leaving a grinning Padraig behind, he turned away and caught up to the others, feeling the weight of the world pressing down upon him.

~0~O~0~

Having dozed off on her bed, Gabby felt herself nearing the surface of awakening, and stretched her arms and legs, keeping her eyes closed. As her muscles relaxed, she held her breath for a second, suddenly aware that she was not alone in the room.

With her eyes still closed, she concentrated. She could sense no taint or mana field nearby, but when she held her breath again, she could hear the soft breathing of another person. Slowly, she opened her eyes, and a small gasp escaped her lips.

"I'm sorry," said the man who sat next to her on the bed. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

Her heart racing, she pushed herself up on the bed, but did not move away from him. "How-how can you be here?" she asked.

"I know you came looking for me," he replied softly. "I am sorry I could not be there to see you, Gabby. I…I have many things to be sorry for."

"Where were you?" she asked.

"We have…we are needed elsewhere," he replied, choosing his words carefully.

"Where?"

"I am sorry, but I cannot tell you that," he said apologetically.

"Is this something to do with the elf that Anders told me about?" she asked; he looked at her but did not answer.

She sighed and nodded her head slowly. "Is this…is this going to be the last time I see you?"

"Perhaps," he answered, "but, if I am able, I will visit you from time to time…if that's what you want."

She touched her belly as she felt Carlin move inside her, almost reminding her of a promise she'd made to her son a while ago, when she'd tucked Cullen's pendant away and had said goodbye to him.

After a long pause, she looked down at her hands and spoke. "I-I have to think of my son, Cullen...I can't live two separate lives – I have to be there for him in my realm…"

"And you must consider your husband-to-be, as well," he added.

She looked into his eyes and nodded. "Cullen, I-I do…" She bit her lip and faltered, feeling her eyes moisten.

He reached over and took one of her hands. "I know you do, Gabby." He moved her hand onto her belly and rested his on top of it. "He's going to be a fine lad, you know," he said with a gentle smile. "He'll make you and Anders proud."

"Cullen, I…" she began, and was silenced by the look in his eyes, full of longing and regret.

"I will not come to you again," he said softly, "but I will always be with you, and one day we will be together again…all of us."

"Yes," she whispered as they held each other's gaze. Slowly, he moved closer to her and she closed her eyes, feeling his warmth as he wrapped his arms around her, gently laying her down on the bed.

"I have something for you," he said, his lips so close to hers that she felt the soft vibration of his words against her mouth. She felt herself melt away into nothingness as his lips brushed against hers and his hand cupped her face, gently stroking with his thumb. Moving away from her lips, he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"A parting gift," he whispered. "Farewell, Gabby."

She shivered a little as his warmth left her and she reached out for him, only to find him gone. She touched her lips and closed her eyes, wanting to stay with the moment for as long as she possibly could. Sinking back down into the bed, she wrapped her arms around herself – a self-comforting action she'd employed since she'd been a young girl at the Tower, whenever she'd felt lonely or sad.

As her breathing slowed, she once again fancied she could hear soft breathing, and gradually became aware of yet another presence in the room with her. She was reluctant to open her eyes, as she wanted to stay with the feeling Cullen had left her with for a while longer, but she was also curious to learn what he'd meant by 'a parting gift.'

Accepting that she would have to open her eyes eventually, she slowly did so, cautiously glancing around her bedroom, and was startled, but not frightened, at the sight of a young man who stood at the foot of her bed.

She frowned slightly and sat up, carefully regarding the young man, who smiled at her but did not speak. He was approximately twenty years of age, tall and well-built, and his reddish-blond hair and soft green eyes reminded her of someone. She was certain that they had never met before, and yet he seemed very familiar to her.

"I…know you, don't I?" she asked, trying to work out where she'd seen him before; still he did not answer, but continued to smile at her, his eyes crinkling softly.

Slowly, she rose, and took a few hesitant steps towards the man, who waited patiently at the foot of the bed as she neared him.

She scrutinised him carefully, searching her memory for some reminder, some clue as to his identity, and then, as he tilted his head slightly and gazed lovingly at her, she saw herself reflected in his face.

Her mouth fell open as she finally realised who he was. "It-it's you, isn't it?" she asked in an awed whisper, her face crumpling as she extended a trembling hand to touch his cheek. He took her hand in his and silently nodded, his eyes never leaving hers.

She leaned against his chest and felt his strong arms envelop her. "Thank you, Cullen," she breathed against the young man, tears of joy spilling down her face.

"I'll be seeing you soon," a soft, deep voice said inside her head, and then she heard loud laughter and the whinny of a horse.

Her eyes snapped open, and she found herself exactly where she'd been when the templars and Gillespie had left her: lying on her bed with one arm draped across her bump. She pushed herself up and, feeling Carlin shift again, she touched her belly and laughed, wiping tears from her eyes.

"Yes, I'll be seeing you soon, my son," she whispered, taking a deep, steadying breath.

She heard the laughter again coming from outside, and recognised it as Anders'. Rising from the bed, she walked over to her window, from where she could see him and a few of the stablehands sharing a joke.

"Come on, Carlin," she said as she stroked her belly, "let's go and say hello to your dad."

She made her way down to the main hall, where she bumped into Gillespie.

"How are you feeling, Gabs?" he asked her.

She nodded her head. "I'm all right – really, I'm fine. Thank you for coming with me earlier."

"You're sure?" he asked, and she nodded again. "Well, I think Anders has just got back."

"I know – I heard him from upstairs," she replied.

Gillespie squeezed her shoulder. "I'll leave you to it, then. You coming in for supper in a bit?"

"Yes, I'll see you in there," she answered, and Gillespie headed into the dining hall.

The main doors of the Keep were opened, and Anders stepped in, weaving a little as he walked. He stopped in his tracks as soon as he spotted her.

"Oh, hello, Gabs," he slurred, doing his best to walk in a straight line as he approached her.

She cocked her head and smiled at him. "Did you have fun in town?" she asked.

"Oh, I had a wander around the markets, you know…didn't buy anything, though. Then I went to the Crown. I stayed downstairs, by the way," he said pointedly.

"Oh…well, that's your business, Anders," she replied. "You don't have to explain yourself to me."

"I stayed downstairs," he repeated. "Anyway, I met this dwarven merchant who thought he could beat a namby-pamby mage like me in a drinking contest…"

"And who won?" she asked.

"I did!" he declared proudly, then clutched his head and swayed a little; Gabby touched his arm to steady him. "Ooh, Maker…what the dwarf didn't realise is that this namby-pamby mage has been drinking Oghren's home brew for the last six months. You should have seen the look on his face as he passed out, and I was still going!"

"You're a credit to Vigil's Keep," she said with a crooked smile.

Anders cocked an eyebrow and looked at her doubtfully. "That wouldn't happen to be sarcasm, would it?" he asked.

"You decide," she answered with a grin.

"Hmm," he mumbled. "So, what have you been up to while I was out?"

She hesitated for a moment, not wanting to spoil his good mood, but she had a feeling he knew anyway. "I, erm, I saw Cullen," she said quietly.

"Oh!" he said with an exaggerated nod. "Right…manage to sort things out, did you?"

"Erm, yes, I suppose you could say that."

"Good. No, that's good. Well, I think I'd better go and lie down for a bit," he said quickly. "My head feels like there's an ogre dancing the Remigold inside it."

"I was about to go in for supper," she said. "Do you want to come with me?"

"No, I've already eaten," he answered with a shake of his head. "Poor old Zeph struggled to carry me back, I can tell you! Anyway, you go and have something to eat. I'll see you in the morning."

"Oh, all right then…goodnight," she said as he walked unsteadily away.

"Night, Gabs!" he called back.

~0~O~0~

After a fitful few hours' sleep, Anders hauled himself out of bed and splashed his face with water from his basin. Sighing into his towel, he slumped against a wall, instantly recoiling as the cold stone made contact with his bare back.

He slowly eased himself against the wall, occasionally wincing, until the stone had warmed slightly against his skin. Closing his eyes, he shook his head and groaned in frustration. Ever since he had left her standing in the main hall, his mind wouldn't let go of the image her announcement had conjured; Cullen waiting for Gabby in the fade, and their subsequent reunion.

Why had he scurried up to his room when he'd returned? He'd never felt more the coward.

She had clearly wanted to talk about what had occurred, and he'd wanted to ask her if she was all right; he needed to learn what had been said, to know where he stood, but instead, he'd made a dash to his room. Now he had nothing to distract him from the endless stream of questions his heart needed the answers to, and his fear of what those answers might mean.

He felt an unpleasant sensation in his stomach, not knowing whether it was down to nerves, hunger or both, but he quickly threw on a robe and padded, barefoot, down to the kitchen. He needed to do something, and decided that stuffing his face with food was as good a thing to do as any.

As his quarters were located in the easterly part of the Keep, he entered the kitchens via the servants' entrance as opposed to via the dining hall itself, and was glad of it, as no sooner had he stepped into the kitchens, he sensed a Warden's presence nearby. This was not at all unusual; at least one of the Wardens, if not most of them, ventured downstairs at some point each night for a snack, but although he could not discern individual Wardens by their taint, somehow he knew it was her.

He eventually spotted her from the rear of the kitchen; she sat at one of the large banqueting tables in the hall, illuminated by a thin shaft of moonlight that fell across her hair. He squinted in the gloom, somewhat puzzled by her posture and odd movements. What's she doing? he wondered. Was the dim light playing tricks on his eyes?

He walked a little nearer to the dining hall, and, noticing the frantic motion of one of her arms, his heart sank. She was crying – he just knew it.

Slowly, he walked over to her, knowing that if he could sense her, then she must be able to sense him by now, but she didn't look up, nor did she cease her movements.

"Oh, Gabby…" he said softly as he arrived behind her, slowly walking round to her side. She froze for a second and held her breath.

"Vamzers!" she exclaimed, then quickly chewed something and swallowed. "I mean, Anders!" She quickly glanced up at him, and he noticed she was forcing a casual pose.

"What have you got around your mouth?" he asked her, having a hard time seeing her in the dark, especially as she was doing her best to turn away from him.

"Nothing, you know, just...food," she said, quickly wiping her mouth with a napkin.

His eyes then fell to the table; from the several empty plates and bowls, it was apparent that Gabby had been hungry – very hungry – and was not crying at all, but was in fact eating with gusto. In front of her was a large bowl of half-eaten spotted dick* with custard, and, to her elbow, a tray holding a large, carved-up chunk of what appeared to be cheese – very old cheese.

He took a seat next to her, wrinkling his nose as he did so. "You're actually eating that?" he asked with a distasteful look at the very runny, very smelly cheese.

She nodded. "What?" she asked before shovelling another bite of spotted dick and custard into her mouth.

"Maker, Gabby – it smells like Oghren's jockstrap!" he said with disgust, fanning his hand in front of his face.

She swallowed and let out a small belch. "How do you know what Oghren's jockstrap smells like?" she asked.

"Just a guess – and I'm being charitable, believe me," he answered haughtily. "Gabs, couldn't you find anything else to eat?"

"Look – I just wanted some cheese, all right?" she said defensively.

"But you don't even like cheese!"

"Try telling that to Carlin!" she moaned, reaching over for another piece. "I can't stop eating it – he's like some sort of little cheese monster, or something!"

"Give me that!" Anders demanded, snatching the tray away from her, but not before she had popped another large chunk into her mouth. He shook his head and groaned. "You can't eat nothing but cheese, you know – you'll make yourself sick!"

"I'm not eating nothing but cheese," she protested, pointing to the empty bowls and plates.

"Gabby, half of this is gone!" he said, pointing to the tray. "I know what this is – it's that stuff Varel likes. This was only delivered yesterday – look how much of it you've eaten!"

"I'm not the only person at the Keep you know, Anders!" she replied hotly.

"Nobody else will touch the stuff!" he argued. "It could only have been you!"

"What's your point, Anders?" she said, drumming her fingers on the table. "Did you want some or are you just picking on the pregnant girl?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Anyway, you're exaggerating – there isn't half of that gone already!"

"There is – look!" he said, bringing the tray closer to Gabby, who promptly snatched another piece and crammed it onto her mouth, her eyes wide with mock-innocence.

Anders gasped. "You tricked me!" He stood and charged over to the kitchen, tray in hand. "This is going on a high shelf where short-arse elves can't reach it!"

"But I'm hungry!" she protested, before she sat back in her chair. "I am pregnant you know," she said in a petulant tone.

"I know," he called from the kitchen, "but you're supposed to be eating for two, not ten!"

She rubbed her belly and yawned as she watched him stow the cheese out of her reach; he then started to make some tea.

By the time he'd returned to her she was dozing in the chair. Quietly placing the tea tray down on the table, he took a seat next to her and, resting his head on one of his hands, he watched her for a while. He watched the rise and fall of her chest and the way her hand tenderly cradled her bump; he looked at her tousled golden-red hair and how the moonlight had lent it a silvery hue. He listened to her soft breathing and closed his eyes, wondering what it would be like to fall asleep to the sound of that breathing, and to feel her warm breath against his neck.

He opened his eyes and sighed slowly, wanting nothing more than to scoop her and Carlin up, carry them up to his bed, wrap them up nice and snugly in his blankets, and for them to fall asleep in his arms.

"Gabs?" he whispered as he poured her a cup of tea.

She moaned and stirred a little.

"Tea," he said, pushing a cup and saucer over to her.

"Oh, thanks," she mumbled, pushing herself up a little in the chair.

"You going to eat that?" he asked, pointing to the bowl of spotted dick. She groaned and shook her head, pushing the now cold pudding over to him.

The two of them didn't speak for a few minutes, as Anders wolfed it down and Gabby sipped at her tea.

"Anders," she said eventually, and straightened herself up. "I, erm, I wanted to tell you what happened with Cullen – if you want to know, that is."

"What do you mean, what happened?" he asked, looking up with his mouth full. "Did something happen? Something bad?"

"No!" she replied. "I just…I just wanted to tell you, that's all."

Anders wasn't sure whether he wanted to know or not. While he had no interest in hearing how much she loved Cullen, and that they'd had an emotional reunion and that there'd been tears and hugs – and kissing - he also appreciated that she was trying to keep him involved, and that she didn't want him to feel left out.

He nodded slowly, certain his lack of enthusiasm showed. "Sure Gabs; why not."

She watched him for a moment; he was right – he couldn't have looked less interested if he'd tried. Knowing how he felt about her, she knew how difficult it must be for him, but she was determined to be honest with him.

"Well, we said goodbye to each to each other," she began. Anders immediately frowned, pondering the significance of her words. Why had they said goodbye to each other? And how? Had they…

And if they had, what did it have to do with him?

"He's no longer there, Anders, in the fade, I mean; none of them are. He came to me in a dream. We-we said goodbye," she said quietly. Anders, who was still frowning, nodded a little and waited for her to continue. "He told me he could come to me again, if I wished, but…I-I said no."

She paused for a moment; Anders heard her gulp and take a deep breath.

"This is the real world," she said with a wave of her hand. "I have a son. I have to think of him, and I have to think of…I have to think of you, Anders."

His frown deepened and he replaced the spoon in the bowl, clasping his hands together on the table. "Me?"

"You're going to be my husband," she went on. "You're taking on my son, and that's no small thing. For whatever reasons we're doing it, Anders, I intend to take my marriage vows seriously – and that includes forsaking all others."

He was genuinely taken aback. "I-I had no idea…Gabby – I would never expect you to…"

"I know you don't expect anything, Anders," she replied, placing her hand on his arm. "You have done so much for me without expecting anything in return. Well, I want to give you as much as I possibly can in return. The least I can do is be a good wife to you. As…as much as I can be, anyway."

"But…you still love him, don't you?" he asked softly.

She looked at him and nodded slowly, her hand still on his arm. "It's changed, but yes, I do," she confessed. "I-I don't know what the future will bring, and I'm not promising anything," she said, "except that I won't be unfaithful to you. We're going to be a family, Anders, and I intend to honour that."

He sighed and took her hand in his, allowing a little hope to enter his heart; although she had told him she still loved Cullen, he felt optimistic that, given time, perhaps in the future there would be a place in her heart for him. That was not something, however, that he took for granted.

"I'm just glad to have you as a friend, Gabs," he said sincerely, gently running his thumb along her knuckles. "Like you said, we don't know what will happen. Let's just get the wedding and Carlin's birth out of the way – one thing at a time, eh?"

She smiled and nodded.

"Oh! I didn't mean it like that – getting them out of the way…you know what I mean!" he said sheepishly.

"I know," she replied.

Each was quiet for several moments, but soon they shared a small smile.

"All right! Come on, piglet," he coaxed, squeezing her hand before releasing it so he could stand up. "Let's get to our rooms – I have a feeling neither of us is going to be at our best in the morning, so we should probably get as much sleep as we can."

"No," she answered lethargically. "I'm going to stay here forever – in fact I think I'm going to live here."

"Well then, do you want a bit of my spotted dick?" he asked with a cheeky grin.

She groaned and patted her belly. "Ugh, no, Anders – I don't think I could accommodate it."

"Damn right you couldn't, darling," he boasted, before stooping over and shovelling the last of it into his mouth. "Very few can."

Their eyes met and they burst out laughing, Anders having to make a supreme effort not to choke on his food. Gabby was delighted to see him more at ease; he hadn't flirted with her like this for quite a while, and she was surprised at how much she'd missed it.

Standing and collecting their empty plates, he gave her a quick wink and crossed over to the kitchen.

"Can you stand?" he asked as he walked back to her.

She narrowed her eyes, drawing a smile from him. "Yes, I can stand!" she replied with a laugh. "I haven't eaten that much." Bracing the palms of her hands against the table top, she slowly began to push to her feet, but slumped back. Blushing furiously, she tried again, and this time came to her feet and offered him a triumphant grin. "See?"

"Uh huh," Anders said with a small laugh. He offered his arm, which she quickly took, and he once again found himself wishing he could always hold her close.

"Gabs," he said quietly as they left the kitchens for their rooms.

"Hmm?" she mumbled.

"Thanks for telling me," he began. "I never expected you to be so committed to our marriage, to me, but I'm grateful."

He felt her fingers give his arm a gentle squeeze. "We will be a good family, we three," she said softly.

Her words lifted his spirit and he felt the tiny seed of hope he had held earlier take full root. "Let's get you two to bed," he whispered.

*Spotted dick – not a venereal disease, but in fact a delicious steamed pudding of the British Isles, made with suet and currants, which is served with custard. Apparently it tastes very similar to pound cake.