Disclaimer: Twilight is the property of Stephenie Meyer

This chapter is dedicated to Noble, Fadewind, M-Bianca94, Alphabloodwolf, Cara Gracious, Lsb123, Patricia, and BellaNessieCullen


It was amazing how quickly the time seemed to fly. It seemed almost as if one moment we were saying goodbye to Mother, Father and Billie at the airport and the next Mal and I were packing our bags to leave ourselves. That's not to say the time between was uneventful, on the contrary much happened, chronicled physically by my ever growing bump that made me lament the vampire senses that allowed me to determine even the most infinitesimal change, although the changes were not only in regards to my body.

On the last week of August Mal took his post in Cardiff and that left me at a loose end for most of the day. For the first week I sorted through all the old boxes that were in the attic, Mal agreeing to this under the condition that he moved everything down from the attic and into the old barn. One look in the barn and I realised it required a thorough clean and repair. The cleaning I managed over the weekend while Mal prepared himself mentally for his first foray into practising psychiatry beyond the training he had done in University.

There was a lot of shovelling involved; leaves had blown in through the un-shuttered windows and a hole in one corner of the roof. Over the years they had built up and rotted down. I requested the presence of Dai and he thought he might use it for the compost heap for the little vegetable plot he kept up near the new buildings. He then left for five minuets before returning with a trailer pulled on the back of a quad. I was surprised the trailer didn't force him down the rise, but he appeared to have a handle on the machine.

There were three boys sat in the back of the trailer and Dai told me to stand aside and let them do all the heavy lifting. It was what I paid them for. Although I did not handle the finances of the farm and really had no idea how much we actually made and how much we paid said hands. It was in that moment I decided that I would have to take a stroll over and have a glance at the books just to have some bearing on our financial situation. Especially if Mal and I decided to reside in Wales on a more permanent basis.

Whilst the boys were busy I could not stand around watching them while I did nothing. It grated against the very fibre of my control freak being. Perhaps if I could have taken charge, managed them verbally it would have been something, but they were efficient and needed no guiding. Especially from someone who had no real knowledge of farming beyond the little plot Tony and I had kept as children. Therefore I returned to the house and made up a pot of tea and took it out for the boys along with a plate of biscuits, a mixture of custard creams, rich tea and chocolate digestives, which Mal was adamant would be better received than the fancier selection I had intended to offer them.

Mal was right and the boys soon devoured them after Dai had first pick, and they all had a mug of tea. I realised that the pot had possibly been surplus to requirements. I may as well have poured a measure of each along with milk as all of them drank it white and allowed them to add the sugar as they saw fit. I would remember that in future.

They handed back their mugs with a "Thank you Mrs L" before spreading a tarp over the heap of the leaf mould from the barn and then followed behind as Dai drove the quad back up over the rise. After they were safely over the rise I returned to the barn and inspected it to decide what to do. There were plants that had started to grow into the barn, not to mention the spider webs and the dust on the beams, I would have clear those away first, although I had no idea how I would reach the beams.

I was considering how safe a ladder would be in this situation when there was a tentative knock on the door. I turned around and found Arwel standing awkwardly in the doorway.

"Nan heard you were doing the barn out and said I should come ask if you need a hand cause they don't need me on the farm today." He said quickly.

"Would you not rather hang with your friends?" I asked.

"Dallas is in Majorca with his Mam and Titch is doing my head in, I'd rather just do something constructive." He replied.

"Then you may help by all means, but I warn you that I am a harsh task master." I cautioned.

"Billie said you're a control freak but that's not so bad on a project like this." He said with a shrug.

"Billie said I am a control freak?" I asked flatly.

"Oh god, no she didn't at all." Arwel backtracked clumsily.

"Arwel, I am the first to admit I am a control freak." I assured him. "Please relax, I was merely jesting and I promise I will not do so again."

"Ok." Arwel said, relaxing somewhat.

"Shall we commence?" I asked and Arwel nodded which drew attention to the fact that he'd recently had his hair shaved close, all the red was gone, leaving behind a dark fuzz visible beneath the old flat cap he was wearing. "I was pondering the best way to reach the beams. Would a ladder suffice?"

"Well you could use a ladder but wouldn't it be better to use the scaffold tower?" He asked.

"Scaffold tower?" I asked. "Yes that would be perfect, but we do not possess scaffold and there is no time to order some."

"You have got scaffold, it's in the old pig sty." He stated pointing toward one of the other out buildings. "I'll show you."

I followed him to a solid stone building. The doors along this end were solid wood and had big pad locks keeping the bolts in place. Had I been on my own it would have been a simple matter of pulling the lock apart, however there was a human present and I could not do this.

"Perhaps Mal has a key." I remarked.

"Nah. Dai Gob put these on to stop us kids getting in, but he didn't think about the back way in." Arwel said in a blasé manner.

"Back way?" I asked, deciding not to question him further about juvenile trespassing confessions.

"Yeah. This way." He said and I followed him around to the back of the sty.

It was a little alcove of an area hemmed in by the barn and another building. The floor was cobbled and had little gutters along the edges. I realised this was where the pigs were let out to air long ago. There was a stone resting up against the wall. It was around the size of a tombstone, although it was that grey sand stone the older buildings throughout the valley was made of as opposed to granite. With only a little effort Arwel pulled it away from the pigsty and placed it against the other wall. Where the stone had been there was now a hole into darkness.

Arwel peered into it and gave a grim smile.

"This hole used to seem much bigger when I was a kid." He remarked and before I could point out that I was a lot smaller than him and the hole would be nothing to me he dropped to his hands and knees and crawled into the darkness.

Arwel gave a grunt, which was followed by something tinkling with the cavern echoes of an empty stone room.

"Have you hurt?" I called to Arwel's derrière that was visible just at the edge of the darkness.

"The scaffolding's a little closer than I remember." He called back. "I just need some light."

I was about to offer to go and get him a flashlight from the house when he was haloed in light from the darkness beyond him.

"That's better." He said as he crawled further inside.

"Shall I come in too?" I asked.

"Nah. Just grab the pipes and boards as I pass them out." He replied.

"Very well." I agreed, positioning myself ready.

There was the sound of metal moving against metal.

"Here's the first one." He called and I could see his shape silhouetted in the beam of the light before a metal tube protruded from the hole.

I took hold of the pole and fed it along until I reached what I judged to be the middle before finding the balance and moving it out of the way of the hole, placing it on the floor nearby ready to be moved into the barn. I was ready for Arwel when he passed out the next pipe. By the time we were finished there was around fifty poles of varying sizes along with reinforced boards that were for standing on. There were also some sections of ladder and four big castor wheels. There were numerous bits for connecting the pipes too.

"I thought I'd seen some of these in there." Arwel said, holding up too strange plastic objects with handles on the top.

"What are they for?" I asked.

"They're for carrying the poles. You can move twelve at one time." He said and demonstrated by setting the poles into the little catches below the handle, six each side of the inner column, and he was able to pick them up together.

"It will not take as long using them." I observed as I took the other handle and began loading it with poles.

"I can take that Mrs Llewellyn." Arwel said, reaching for the one I was loading.

"Nonsense." I said, shooing his hand away. "I am pregnant not weak. I can manage this. Now take those poles into the barn, we are wasting time."

Arwel looked as if he was about to argue once more before nodding his head and moving off toward the barn while I finished loading the second carrier. I transferred these to the barn. With the help of the carriers we soon had all the pieces in the barn and Arwel was putting it all together as he explained how he and his friends used to treat it as a big meccano set.

"Did you not have a normal set at home?" I asked.

"Well yeah, but this was giant and we could climb on it afterwards. It was something else to do in this big empty building when it was raining. Although it sometimes meant having to run away from Dai Gob, but we soon worked out his routine to know when not to come here." Arwel replied.

"Why did you come here in the first place?"

"We never went near the house, but these were a load of old empty buildings to explore. It was like going on adventures." He remarked.

"I can see how that would be appealing." I replied.

By the time we had finished building the tower it was high enough for even me to reach the rafters. It was the perfect tool to help me clean away all the plants, dust and cobwebs.

"Where did that come from?" Mal asked when he came out to the barn to see how I was getting on.

"It was in the pigsty." I replied, climbing down the ladder to greet him.

"How did you get it out?"

"Piece by piece." I stated.

"Well obviously, I meant how did you get it out when the doors are still locked?"

"Arwel is a cat burglar." I observed.

"No I'm not." Arwel said quickly.

"He knew of a back way in and we got the pipes through there." I explained.

"The old pig door." Mal stated with a nod.

"Yeah." Arwel confirmed.

"You're smart for thinking of it, I never would have. I would have stood around for an hour before going to get the keys off of Dai. I'll have to remember to get the keys off him at some point. I didn't bother before because I didn't think there was anything in there, at least nothing I'd think was important. I'll have to now though. If only to explain how we got the scaffold out." Mal mused.

"He cannot accuse us of breaking and entering on our own property." I observed.

"That's true." Mal said. "Then I guess we have nothing to fear from Dai."

"As long as you leave me out of it." Arwel stated.

"I'll just say I want to use the buildings." Mal said with a shrug. "So you two thirsty?"

"I could use an ice tea around about now." I replied.

"You want anything Arr?" Mal prompted when Arwel didn't respond.

"Yeah." Arwel replied.

"Coke?" Mal suggested.

Arwel nodded.

Mal went to the house and returned a few moments later with our refreshments. Mal then stayed to help us with cleaning that afternoon. Arwel returned the next day to help Mal bring everything down from the attic, laying them out on a stretch of linoleum we had found rolled up in the attic. By Monday the barn was clean, the holes patched until they could be fixed professionally at a later date, and everything had been moved down from the attic. I was ready to begin without Mal worrying about my safety on his first day of work.

That Monday I was up early to see Mal off to work, I wanted to make sure that he had a good breakfast and everything he would require for the day. He kissed me before he left and promised to phone me during his lunch hour. I rushed to the front door to wave him off; he beeped the horn before he disappeared over the hill. I remained where I was by the front door for a full minuet longer as if expecting him to come back immediately. It was foolish, but it really was a new thing for Mal to be the one to go off to work while I remained at home, alone and without anybody nearby I felt comfortable enough to impose my time upon.

I resolved myself to enter the house and close the door, locking it too because I would be out back in the buildings. I paused in the parlour and decided on first things first, I would clean through the house. Having it in perfect order would help ease my mind.

I cleaned through the house, but still I was on top of everything and so it took barely an hour out of my day. After drinking a glass of ice water I made up a pitcher, it was a plastic one with a secure top so that I wouldn't accidentally spill it, in order to have it to hand out in the barn. Then with my refreshment in hand, I made my way out to the barn, ensuring to lock the back door because I wouldn't have a clear view of the house. Once in the barn I settled down upon a cushion and began sorting through the boxes.

As far as I could tell nothing in these boxes belonged to either Jeremy or Zoë, they were possessions of generations of Llewellyns and possibly others who may have occupied the farm between the time Jeremy had lived here with his parents and the time he had returned with Zoë. I really was unsure of the line of ownership during that time. Had the nieces and nephews of Jeremy taken care of the family stead, or had it passed into other hands only to be purchased by Jeremy at a later date? Perhaps I would find out when I went through the boxes of papers, all of which were yellowed with age and had that strong smell of musk.

Before I went through things individually I sorted them into piles. There were a few pieces of collapsible furniture, but it was fairly evident that it had seen better days; none of it was worth saving. It was really nothing of true antique value, for how could one truly find the beauty of art in a flat pack MDF computer desk from Ikea that one would in a delicately carved mahogany piece from the master craftsmen of the Victorian age? Besides, I was certain there were pieces missing and I could not make one full set out of any of it and so I put it straight into the rubbish pile. The other piles were toys of varying age, clothing folded neatly and put away for later use that probably never came. There were the numerous boxes of papers and a collection of books, mostly from the latter century, although there were a few that were older, including a very big leather bound tome.

I felt instantly drawn to this old book, although I knew not why. Perhaps it was due to the fact that it was so clearly ancient, definitely Victorian, if not a little earlier. I placed it carefully before me and ran my hand over the ancient cover, the leather felt brittle beneath my fingertips, but I could still make out the word 'Bible'. I opened it carefully and the first flyleaf came away with the cover, although it was still help on by the spine it came away from the rest of the Bible and so I placed it carefully on the floor.

The page that now greeted me had originally been blank, but now it was filled with writing, at first it was clearly the same writing, but as it went further down there was a change in author. It was a crude family tree, a listing of the family members through several generations. I looked through all the names but could see no mention of a Jeremy anywhere. In fact most of the names, at least in his era, were traditional Welsh names that it seemed odd for him to have such an English one.

Perhaps there was a reason he was left off, but we would never find out that reason now. Regardless, it was definitely the Llewellyn Family Bible and I was certain Mal would wish to see it for it was part of his heritage whether his father was mentioned or not. I closed the cover carefully and placed the Bible into a fresh new box complete with packing beans in order for it to be returned to the attic.

After I had placed the Bible aside I decided to go through the clothing first. There were a lot of baby garments, old vests and baby grows, a couple of bibs of the frilly formal variety. The odd dress or little pants suit. There were booties galore, a small reminder of babies born in this house. As sad as it was, they were beyond salvaging and they had to go into the rubbish pile otherwise I might have taken a few of the cardigans at the very least for my son. There was only one garment that I kept, one of white cotton with the finest embroidery and the merest amount of lace, possibly from the veil of the original mother who had made this baptismal gown for her first child and it had been used for subsequent children there after. Their names were listed on a piece of yellowed paper pasted to the inside lid of the crate the gown had been so lovingly stored within. I scanned the names again, from Gerallt in 1858 at the top down to Dafydd in 1920, the last of fifty names in all, at the bottom, but there was no Jeremy. It was as if he never existed.

It made me worry greatly, what would Mal make of this? What did it mean if there was no record of Jeremy within this family? Had he even a right to this farm? Did Mal have a right to this farm? Was it truly the home of his ancestors?

It troubled me, and I knew I had to get to the bottom of this mystery and I was likely to find it in the papers. I went for the oldest boxes because that was the most likely place I would find mention of Jeremy, if indeed there were any.

Two hours later I had been through every scrap of paper, twice, but there was no mention of a Jeremy. At one point I thought I was on to a winner when I found an old letter complete with military seal. I thought it would be the exact thing I was looking for, it even contained a medal on a piece of ribbon, it looked like something I would imagine of the Boer war era, even the date, March 1st 1881, in faded ink atop the letter was right for the first bout of fighting, but it was a letter informing a Mr and Mrs A Llewellyn that their son Capt. Gerallt Llewellyn had fought valiantly for Queen and Country but had lost his life on foreign soil. As far as I knew Jeremy had come about his vampire life upon his return home. Had he not brought back that clock from London when returning from the very war in which the letter proclaimed this Gerallt had perished?

I found myself repeating how strange it was in my mind, and decided that perhaps I would put all the papers that alluded to this Gerallt, for there were also personal correspondence home, written in Welsh, addressed to 'Mam', to one side. There was no other correspondence in truth; it appeared that only these letters had been worth keeping. The other papers were documents ranging from old deeds and invoices for feed and such, bank statements and other indications of farm finances. I had no idea if this was worth keeping.

On closer inspection of the books they appeared to be ones on local history, I decided to look through them at some point for they were bound to hold a gem or two about the local area that might be interesting to know. I placed them in a box to look over later, the rest of the books, mostly mildewed paperback romances, went into the rubbish pile.

The toys were not worth saving, they were old and in no fit condition to save and so they too went in the rubbish pile. By the time I had finished there was very little left, merely a few papers, the local books, the Bible and a carved box I had found that contained a few foreign coins and trinkets along with a pile of letters addressed to Jeremy. There was also a cassette of floppy disks, such an obsolete little memory storage device, but Father at times still used them. There was an old machine in Carlisle's study that had the adequate drive and I could look at it when Mal and I returned home.

I left the rubbish for now, there was little I could do with it until Mal returned home, and I carried that which I wished to keep back into the house.

Needless to say I was dusty from the boxes and I was feeling somewhat chilly from sitting in the damp barn, therefore I opted for a shower. It did warm me through and I felt refreshed when I set about making myself some lunch.

I'd had a busy morning, but after lunch I felt a bit at a loose end. I knew I would go mad rattling about the house on my own and I didn't feel like settling down to read or some other less strenuous activity. I wished to be moving about and it was such a nice afternoon. Besides I wanted a nice juicy apple or two and there were none in the house for I had eaten them all the day before. Perhaps a nice stroll down to town wouldn't go amiss.

I gathered together my keys and wallet into my bag and with a bottle of water in hand I left the house. It was indeed a nice afternoon for a stroll and although the hill was steep on the way back up I hardly noticed. It did not exhaust me and better still it killed a lot of time. It was five by the time I arrived back at the farm and therefore I was in time to cook dinner for that evening.

When Mal came home he enthused about his day, telling me as much as he could without breaking any confidentiality laws. I was happy that he had enjoyed his day and wished I could have had something so fulfilling to pass my time, but I was not begrudging about it. Mal helped me with the dishes after dinner, although I would have much preferred to have done them myself as something to do, but it was our way and I would have to explain my boredom if I tried to change it now and I really didn't want to ruin Mal's first day. That was the reason I did not mention the Bible or other things I had found amongst the items from the attic, it could wait until another day.

Instead I told him of my walk that afternoon. I had visited the library, which was in a converted Baptist church in the middle of the town. The collection of books was the type one would expect in an average library. There really was nothing that hinted at a specialist section beyond the books in Welsh, but I assumed that was normal for a library in Wales. I had perused some of the books but even there I was in no mood for reading. I did spend half an hour in the café located above the library as I partook in tea and cake and was offered a nice view out over the valley, watching cars move along the by-pass like little insects glinting in the sun.

On the way out of the library I came across a rack that contained pamphlets for local activities. I collected one of each and discovered that there were various clubs in the area, although many of them took place in the evening and thus negated the point since Mal would be home at that time and I was looking for things to fill my day. One thing that piqued my interest was the antenatal aqua aerobics class on Wednesday mornings in the leisure centre. It would be nothing to walk the short distance there and I should very much like to go in the pool, it had been a while since I had been for a swim and I could find out the times and see if perhaps Mal would like to go swimming one night of the week also.

Mal thought that would be a good idea and after some consideration we decided on Friday when it was extended adult swim and therefore unlikely we'd encounter children messing about. It turned out for the best for we encountered no problems and could merely swim for as long as we wished. At first I would go into the female changing room and Mal would use the male, but as I became bigger and felt claustrophobic in the tiny cubicles Mal and I began using one of the big family cubicles located between the two changing rooms. Although Mal would never admit it I knew he was somewhat relieved when we began using the shared cubicle because he worried that if I were to slip in the female changing room, he would not be able to attend to me.

The antenatal classes were a different matter. The first three weeks I had used the cubicle, but once I had grown to know some of the other women in the class I felt confident enough to change at the benches while I chatted with Aaminah and Taite who were both due around the same time as I. At first I was rather hesitant to share too many details, but once I realised that I was progressing and experiencing things similar to how they were I was able to open up without fear of revealing my heritage. I hadn't realised it was something I needed before I had it, but this interaction with other expectant mothers made me feel more assured of my own pregnancy. After the fifth week I began going to lunch with them after the lesson, it was something else to fill my day. They were not available for the rest of the week unfortunately because they were still working, saving the period of their maternity leave for after their babies were born.

Swimming was one outlet to alleviate my boredom whilst also taking in some gentle exercise, another was my daily walk. I enjoyed it, even as the weather turned colder, wetter, windier, it mattered not. It was nice to get out in the fresh air and enjoy the scents that came on the wind. I was surprised how acute my sense of smell had become. Being dhampir I have always had a good sense of smell, but now it had sharpened to the point where I could pick out individual ingredients in a stew by scent alone. Walking through the autumn air I could pick out ripe blackberries, the rain soaking into the fallen leaves, the artificial scent of cars a sharp contrast to the nasal symphony I was treated to whenever I walked outside.

I also began doing a couple of hours a week for Mair in the farm sharp. It freed her to attend to other things now Arwel was back in school and gave me something to do beyond sitting in the house when all my other avenues of escape were exhausted. I enjoyed the little farm store, even if custom was few and far between, there was always organising and such. I had volunteered my help and therefore didn't expect payment. Mair was insistent at first until she realised how adamant I was about offering my services for free. I didn't want to take her money because I didn't need it and I was certain that if she could truly afford to employ a shop assistant she would have done so by now. In the end I agreed to accept some free vegetables in exchange for my labour because Mair claimed offence if I did not.

I found Mair to be a pleasant woman with an earthy sense of humour. After only a week in her company I thought I could consider her a friend. The women at the aqua aerobics classes, even Aaminah and Taite, were merely acquaintances with whom I had something in common at present, but I doubt I would have socialised with them otherwise. Mair on the other hand, I knew I would miss her when I returned to America. She was so easy to get along with; one could almost claim it was too easy to speak to her. Oft times I found myself about to say something pertaining to the supernatural and I had to quickly reroute my words mid-sentence. The vegetables were more than welcome; I used them every day in various dishes.

It was on a Monday several weeks after Mal had began work that I made my discovery. I hadn't mentioned the Bible up to that point because I saw no point in taunting Mal with something that wasn't truly connected to him. Monday's were the slowest day, there was nothing to distract me and usually I walked for hours or I would drive to Merthyr or down to Caerphilly and do a spot of shopping. This Monday was much too wet to go anywhere, even by car. The downpour made it hard to see out of the windscreen and I had promised Mal I would not attempt a journey unless it was absolutely necessary. That Monday I used the vegetables to make a stew, I did this early, before cleaning through the house so that it would have chance to simmer nicely by the time Mal came home.

Once the house was clean, and feeling more restive than I had of late, I decided that it was the best time to start looking through the local history books. Was it fate that I found what I was looking for in the first book I decided to read? Perhaps not, because it was the title that caught my eye, 'Who do Ewe Think You Are, a story of one family and two hundred years on a sheep farm in Wales.' The picture on the cover was that of Hafod Uchaf farmhouse. It was written by one Owain Llewellyn in 1984 and it charted the history of Hafod Uchaf from when the Llewellyn family first took tenancy in the 1780s when the area had been fairly unpopulated, through the coal industry that had seen the town below flourish. The farm like many others in the area had supplied wool for the mill where it was spun into cloth before coal had been discovered and it became the biggest export of the valley. It was a fairly interesting read, informative about the wool industry through the nineteenth century and into the twentieth century. Interwoven through all of this were the stories of the Llewellyn family, of their fates and fortunes.

There was a page in the centre that folded out like a map and it contained an intricate family tree with many more names than appeared on the flyleaf of the family Bible. I searched it but could find only one Jeremy, however he had been born in nineteen-thirty six and therefore could not possibly be Mal's father. I concentrated on the chapters dedicated to the eighteen eighties, that was the date of the first Boer war, and there I finally found the reason why Jeremy had eluded me, but it made so much sense now.

Jeremy was Gerallt. He had been christened Gerallt Llewellyn, that was the name he had signed up to the army, but his regiment had been mostly English and his name had been changed to Gerald at first, which Gerallt actually happened to be, before finally mutating to Jeremy. He had been Jeremy to his army mates whilst still Gerallt to his parents and on official documentation. Finally I had found the connection and I could share my findings with Mal.

It gave me a project for that afternoon, to chase up every little thing I had fond on Gerallt Llewellyn and put them ready for Mal to look at, all the while I was drinking iced water and eating raw carrots and apples. It became almost an obsession, but it was worth it when I had everything in perfect order when Mal returned home.

We ate stew with freshly baked bread in the kitchen before I invited him through to the parlour where I had everything arranged on the table, the Bible the centrepiece.

"What's all this?" Mal asked.

"I found it when I was going through the things from the attic." I explained.

"But you went through all that weeks ago." He observed.

"I know, but I wasn't certain of its true significance until today." I said. "Open the Bible."

"You're giving me a lesson?" He asked.

"I'm sure you know your scriptures well Malachite, and it is not for that reason I ask you to open the book. This is a family Bible and I'm sure you know its significance?" I replied.

Mal nodded his head and opened the Bible carefully to the page full of the listed names.

"You see there is no Jeremy." I stated. "And there was no indication of a Jeremy in any of the documents from that time either. Not even with this." I added as I pointed to the notification of death. "It was only today when reading this book written by one of your cousins back in the nineteen eighties that I realised why."

"My father was christened Gerallt." Mal murmured as he read the paragraph I pointed out in the book. "Wow. I didn't know that." He added, looking blankly at the page.

"I guessed as much." I replied. "But there's more, for you see these letters here? They were all penned by Gerallt, to his mother when he was off fighting for Queen and Country. This medal." I added placing it in his hand. "He earned that for bravery in the face of the enemy. He earned it at the age of eighteen when fighting in the Ashanti war."

"Wow." Mal said as he held the medal. "My father earned this and it was held by my grandmother and grandfather and who knows how many other Llewellyns."

Mal's voice was soft and his manner was so very careful, but he was welling up with emotion, the smaller items in the room were beginning to vibrate as Mal became lost in his thoughts for a long moment. I placed my hand in his and stroked it softly with my thumb in the hope of soothing him.

Mal turned his hand around and took my hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I'm not upset." He said softly. "It's just hard to take in at the moment."

"I know." I replied. "Just know I am here for you."

Mal nodded before focusing on me, and the objects in the room became still.

"I've known so little about my family and where I really came from beyond Mam and Dad, and Brendan of course, but from what you learned from Mam he was obviously holding back there. But even he didn't know anything about Dad or his life before he became a vampire. I only knew scraps I could remember from childhood, but now, now I have this book charting everything about my family. This is my history and…" He trailed off looking uncertain.

"You are unsure whether to look." I surmised.

"What if I find out something that I don't like?"

"All families have skeletons in their closets." I stated. "You can not expect all of it to be good, but there will be good, and there will be mundane and you must expect some darkness and everything in between. It matters not whether the history is good or bad, it is your history and you deserve to know it. Think of how much more you will be privy to than most people. There is even an extensive family tree located in the middle of the book so there is no need for you to go to expense in tracking all your family down yourself."

"But some things are better left buried." Mal murmured.

"This book was written by Owain Llewellyn, charting the life of his family from the time they took up this farm. Do you think it likely he would paint a bad picture of them?" I asked.

"I guess not." Mal conceded.

"It will be a loving account of his ancestors."

Mal nodded.

"And another thing to consider, your family history is our son's family history. Would you not like the chance to sit down some day when he is around five or six, when he is old enough to be curious about his ancestry, and share these stories with him?" I asked as I took Mal's hand and placed it to my bump.

He looked at his hand resting against me for a moment before he looked up at me with a smile.

"You're right." He said. "It would be nice to share these stories with him."

"And Mal, I can confirm that from what I read in the book I could not find anything that would make you question the moral leanings of your family. Compared to the dark deeds of my ancestors, your family could be considered saints."

Mal nodded before placing his hand to the pile of letters.

"I haven't read them other than to note that they were from Gerallt to Mam. I kept them because Gerallt was in the army around the time Jeremy would have been. I cannot believe I had not made the connection earlier."

"It's not really that obvious." Mal replied. "But like I said, I didn't know his real name and I don't think I would have really thought about him changing his name like that. I mean why didn't he just go back to using Gerallt?"

"Perhaps he had become used to people outside of his family calling him Jeremy. Or possibly he no longer felt that he was Gerallt and retaining Jeremy allowed him to disassociate himself from the acts that he had to perform in order to survive that he never would have done whilst still human." I suggested.

"Do you think there'll be anything about that in here?" Mal asked tapping the letters.

"All I found in the attic other than a few items of yours that Brendan placed up there belonged to those members of your family who inhabited this house before your father took possession of it once more. It is all simple human life. Nothing of the supernatural at all, other than the mention of one Iowan Llewellyn who claimed to be able to predict the weather by the aching of his joints. As far as the family was concerned, Gerallt lost his life while defending his garrison during the Boer war. His body was never recovered. It is not too much of a leap to deduce that he was turned sometime around that battle, but I doubt we will find out how he came to be a vampire."

"If I'm really honest, I don't think I want to know. I'd rather just know what he was like as a human and leave it at that. Finding out how he became a vampire, well wouldn't that be like digging into how someone was murdered? He didn't choose to be a vampire; he was ripped away from his life. I'd rather not know the how and why, I just know that fact."

"I understand why you would not wish to know that. It brings me little comfort knowing the details that led to Father being made vampire. The only consolation is that we reached the point where he felt he could share that with his children. It would have been a greater sorrow if I were to learn the story in his absence."

"That's my thoughts. And since he's not here to tell me, I don't think I want to know. Not about that. I would like to know what he was like as a human. What type of son was he? Did he have brothers and sisters? How did he treat them? Was he happy in the army?" Mal said, laying down his questions as quickly as if he thought of another one before he had finished the last.

"He was made a captain, which is the highest rank a farm boy from Wales could hope to achieve in that time. The senior command roles were more often than not given to sons of the landed gentry or wealthy merchants, their commissions bought by title or money. He must have been a fine soldier to rise to such a high rank so quickly with no money or political or traditional clout to get him into that role."

"That is something." Mal said with a slight smile and then he laughed.

"What amuses you?" I asked, coming around the table and sitting across his lap, placing my arm around him now that he had finished looking at the objects on the table for the time being.

"I just realised that we're both kids of soldiers when you think about it." He observed placing his arms about me in support.

"Yes." I replied. "Not that war has ever truly touched our lives."

"I thought you were a war hero." Mal said, hugging me closer to him and kissing my head.

"I would not compare our battles to those fought by our fathers in their human lives." I stated.

"It doesn't really matter I guess. It just gives us one more thing in common, that our fathers were commanders." Mal mused as he kissed my head once more.

I revelled for a moment in his arms, resting against his chest, almost lulled to sleeping with the sigh of his breath and the beat of his heart. I was about to suggest we move somewhere more comfortable in order to discuss what I had found when I found myself sitting up suddenly in shock.

At first I didn't quite realise what it meant, it was a new sensation. Admittedly I had experienced the odd flutter in the last week or so as of something moving inside me, but it had been nothing more than the feel of wind in my gut or some other expected movement within. This time however, this time it was a definite jab. A definite kick perhaps. It was definitely movement and I was stood on my feet staring at nothing with my hand pressed to the bump that was pronounced enough now that others had began to notice. I stood wondering over the enchantment of that moment as I felt another little jab.

"Quick Mal give me your hand." I said, almost robotically, afraid that if I made a sudden move I would lose the location.

Mal offer me his hand without comment and I placed it to the exact spot I had felt that tiny jab from with in. I steadied my breathing, counting within my head, as if that would hold any significance. It seemed an eternity, but finally I felt him again, stretching out, kicking, elbowing, who knows? I felt that little jab from within and I knew my son was alive. He was a person and real and much more than an abstract concept of what might be, he was.

I opened my eyes to find Mal was frowning slightly.

"Did you not feel him kick?" I asked.

Mal shook his head and I went to protest but he placed his finger to my lips before closing his eyes. He spread his hand across my bump as he encouraged me to sit in his lap once more. And thus we remained, our breathing and heartbeats the only sound in the world, apart from, on the cusp of hearing, the fast beat that was the heartbeat of our son, for an eternity it seemed. Perhaps it was but five or ten minuets in reality before I felt our little son move again and the point of pressure as he moved an arm or leg.

Mal's hand flew from my stomach for a moment before settling back as he looked down into my eyes. The look in his eyes was hard to read at first, but a look of wonderment crossed his face. Mal opened his mouth as if to talk but closed it without making a sound.

"Wow?" I suggested and Mal nodded.

He was stunned into stillness for a moment, but then he scooped me into his arms, holding me so close to him that I could almost hear the blood flow in his veins. He stroked my hair and back as he held me close to him. Then his arms released me and he pushed me back slightly to look into my eyes as he spoke.

"We need a pen and paper. We have to record the time and date so we can tell him about it when he's older." He stated.

"We need not a piece of paper, I have a journal for that exact purpose." I stated, going to the closet to retrieve it along with a pen. "Do you wish to do the honours?"

"Oh no, your writing is so much nicer than mine." Mal replied.

"Then I will record it." I agreed and began to write down the date and time and noting it's significance. "Are there any words of sentiment you would like me to record here?"

"I wouldn't know what to say." Mal said with a chuckle. "I mean, what shall I say? It was the first time we knew you were there? Cause that's not really true because of the scans."

"Shall we leave it for now and write a comment should one occur to us in the future?" I suggested.

"Yeah." Mal agreed.

"I wonder what he will think about the memories we will have gathered for him when he is older." I mused as I turned to the first page where I had stuck two stills, one from the first scan that Carlisle had taken and one from the scan of Dr Trellis' session. I planned to include a scan from every appointment throughout my pregnancy.

"Well as a kid it will come in handy when they do those presentations at school about who they are, what they were like as a baby. As a teenager he will probably find it a little embarrassing. When you crack it out when he brings a girlfriend home for the first time he will be really embarrassed." Mal teased with a chuckle.

"Mal." I said rolling my eyes.

"It's only natural he'll feel that way, especially if you include a picture of him on the potty. Anyway, when he's a little older, maybe venturing forth into a family of his own, it'll be something for him to cherish and something for him to maybe show his kids one day."

"His kids?" I said in wonder. "Our grandchildren. Now that is a scary thought when he is not with us yet, merely that little baby within me. Oh to think of grandchildren."

"I'm not ready to be called Grancha just yet." Mal stated.

"Grancha Mal." I mused as I sat in his lap again, running my fingers over his cheek. "Has quite the nice ring to it."

"So does Nanny Liza." Mal replied as he wrapped his arms about me.

"I see." I said pulling away from him slightly. "Perhaps we should forgo these musings and indulge in a nice bath instead."

"Yeah." Mal said, still hugging me as I sat in his lap.

"Then we should go run it." I said.

Mal nodded and held me a moment longer before releasing me. We both stood up and Mal went to run the bath while I cleared away the archive of his family history into a box ready for when he felt ready to view them. Once the box was safely stowed in the closet I made my way through to the bathroom where the bath was running as the room filled with steam, but Mal wasn't present. I allowed my hearing to wander and I discovered his heartbeat upstairs.

I made my way up to our room.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Getting our night clothes." He said. "We'll want them when we get out of the bath."

"Yes." I replied. "But usually you are more in favour of our birthday suits."

"Well I'd vote for that right now, but I know you prefer to at least have your bathrobe to come up to the room." Mal replied.

"I do." I said, taking up my robe. "And that is all I require. Do you care to join me?"

"Like you have to entice me." Mal said with a grin as he wiggled his eyebrows.

I giggled as he took my hand and we made our way down to the bathroom.

"I have discovered that there is a Yoga class on Tuesdays." I informed him as I tested the temperature of the water.

"Do you want to go?" Mal asked.

"It would be beneficial." I replied. "But it's not just for me. You should some along too."

"Well I guess it would he a nice to do something like that together." He observed.

"Then shall we go tomorrow?" I prompted.

"Why not." Mal said with a smile and he kissed my forehead before we climbed into the bath.

The yoga classes were good for me. I enjoyed the gentle stretching and how Mal was integrated into the exercises, it allowed us to interact in a way we never thought about before. We would be able to do them at home together should we wish, but I would also like to continue with the class for further ideas, besides it was a chance to talk to yet more mothers. I suppose I was anxious about the birth, it was only natural, and speaking with those who were on their second or third child was a help for me. I was considering a natural birth; after all, my baby was human and did Granny Ness not birth Mother and Uncle Hunter naturally? Mother had no option but to have a caesarean because my siblings and I are dhampir, but I did have a choice and I would consider it carefully.

Mal read through the documents I had found, although he left it for once a week, Sunday evening when we came back from hunting and I was busy planning my activities for the week. Everything he found of interest he noted down in a notebook. He was cataloguing the collection for future reference and he always found some new anecdote that he repeated to me when we settled into bed. I was happy that he had this link to his ancestors that had been missing all of his life. He finally knew where he came from, who his people were.

Hunting became a weekly occurrence; it was needed from around the five-month mark when I felt the fatigue of blood lust start to display itself as the week drew on. I was glad that I had no reason to meet with people on Saturdays because I tended to be cranky and possibly a risk to humans, I didn't test it to be certain and if anyone did come to call, there was an emergency beaker of blood in the fridge, although if I am honest I often finished it before the Sunday when we went to hunt. I thought it best to have that blood on standby through the week because I was bad enough when a craving for crushed ice overcame me, I should hate to see what would happen should I become so enamoured with blood I lost control of all sense.

As for my cravings, I had not noticed them at first, especially when I was alone during the day, merely eating what I felt like in a given moment. It was only after Mair offered me a bushel of apples and carrots that I took note.

"Why all these?" I had asked.

"Because you keep buying them and I thought if you just have these under the bench there you won't have to keep redoing the display every time you take an apple off." Mair explained as she opened a new sack of loose potatoes with experienced ease, finding the loosening end of the string first time.

"Have I really eaten so many?" I asked.

"You've already had five today and you've only been in an hour." Mair replied.

"I hadn't even realised." I observed. "I am merely eating them because they taste so good."

"And you just have to have more of them?" She prompted.

I nodded.

"Well at least you're craving something healthy and not chocolate cake like I did on Anwen. All I wanted was chocolate cake and custard morning noon and night. It was getting to the point where I was looking like a chocolate cake. Of course on Dylan I couldn't get enough of cauliflower. That was a weird one cause I don't like collie normally." Mair said with a shrug.

"That is one consolation." I replied. "And I like apples at normal times."

"And raw carrots?"

"They're full of vitamins." I replied. "And they make a better snack than potato chips, as I always told Tony growing up."

"Tony is your twin brother right?" Mair remembered.

"Yes." I confirmed.

"Is he as small as you."

"No, he follows Mother." I replied, not mentioning the fact that I had already informed her of this. "He is nigh on two foot taller than I and has the look of our Quileute ancestry whereas I follow Father's Italian roots, although I do not tan. I also inherited my great-grandmother's pale skin. I believe she used to joke she was part albino, and so…" I indicated my own face.

"So you're ivory skinned, there's nothing wrong with that." Mair said, giving me a one-armed hug. "You still got them rosy cheeks and before long you'll be glowing."

"Please, I have enough of that from Mal." I said warily as I was reminded of another pregnancy marker. "But he has these wistful moments and I have to remind him that I am not the first woman in history to go through pregnancy."

"But you're the first woman in history to go through pregnancy with his child." Mair said gently. "He is allowed to be excited. After all he's been through, losing his mam and dad when he was so young, he was looking for family when he came back here as a teen, but an uncle can only be so much family and Brendan might have had the best intentions, but he wasn't what Mal was looking for. Not family wise. Brendan is his fun uncle, that's to be sure." Mair said with a wink, adopting an Irish accent on the latter. "But it's not the family Mal was looking for. You are that family, and so is your family. It's weird but it's like he's found that with your family too."

"My Malachite has been through so much heartache in his life." I said sadly. "I do not begrudge him his happiness now that we are finally extending our beings into another, but I have my own quirks, and one of them is a reluctance to have notes made of my appearance. It makes me feel self-conscious."

"Why?" Mair asked.

"Excuse me?"

"Well what have you got to feel self-conscious about? Ok, you're short, but it's not noticeable until you really think about it and who's gonna notice that when they're taking in your Botticelli face bordered by curls that most people would have to pay a bucket load at the hair dressers for. And if they're not so superficial you usually got some words to charm them with." Mair observed.

"As true as that may be, not that I am saying it is for it would be big headed of me, I grow wary of endless complements for complement's sake. If I am all you describe then it is hardly my own achievement, it is merely what genetics graced me with. The same as you were graced with such vivid blue eyes, like the summer sky when the sun is just right and it's so very blue at the zenith. Whereas mine are muddy green and one wonders if an alligator will poke his head out to say hello."

Mair was smiling at me and I had no idea why.

"Just accept compliments when you still get them, because time happens to us all and they soon start drying up." She said, tapping my shoulder.

"I will bear that in mind." I replied.

Mair chuckled before getting on with weighing out some potatoes.

Mal had also noted my cravings, mainly for crushed ice. He had ten trays frozen at any given time for when I should need to satisfy my want of ice. I tried to have it in drinks for the most part, whether that be water or juice, but there were times I found myself eating the cubes straight from the mould, crushing it between my teeth. On a whim one Saturday night I tried the ice with the blood, but it did not suite, cold, watery blood was not appetising in the least.

We didn't return home for Thanksgiving, they didn't celebrate it in Britain and it was better for Mal to ensure Christmas away. Originally we had thought that he would have finished his temporary contract by Christmas and that would be an end. However it was due to terminate mid January when the psychiatrist he's been standing in for returned from maternity leave. I did not wish to return for that time, I would be well into my third trimester and I wished to be as close to Carlisle as possible just in case. Besides, some airlines were averse to allowing heavily pregnant women to fly and I did not wish to take the risk. If Mal were to return for the final month then he would do so alone. I would miss him but he had made the commitment and it would not do to break it, especially when he might rely on them for a reference. Not that he had found anything that suited our purposes. Perhaps we would have to live in Tregarran for a while until we found the perfect place to live, and if not the next best thing. Although I was in mind that if we had to live in another state then we may as well return to Hafod Uchaf.

I was still yet to settle on a name for our child, confirmed to be a boy by Dr Trellis, not that I required the confirmation, Mother and Tony had yet to be wrong. I was firm in my mind that I would not abide Jeremy as a first name for our son. I had still not admitted this to Mal when we were deep into December and the time of our departure was drawing near.

"I bought a book today." Mal said, when we were sitting down to dinner the Friday before we were due to return to America.

"You have?" I asked.

"Yeah." He said. "Now don't get mad, but there isn't a lot of time left now and we haven't come up with a name, so I thought I'd get a book and we can look over a few of them. I know you're not so keen on Jeremy so I'm not going to push it, but we really do need to think about a few names."

"Who said I do not like Jeremy?" I asked.

"Come now Liza, I know you well enough to know when you're avoiding something because you're worried you'll offend me. I just wished you'd told me instead of shutting down any conversation about names so I wouldn't be offended because that makes me feel like a right moany bastard." He said.

"I'm sorry." I whispered. "I have never been fond of the name Jeremy, it conjures up images of annoying people. Not that I think your father was annoying, it's just how I feel about the name."

"I know, some names you hear conjure up a certain image in your mind." Mal said, reaching out and tapping my hand. "Anyway, he wasn't really Jeremy was he? He was Gerallt."

"That's right." I replied.

"Not that we'll go with that cause Garrett will think we named him after him and even though the Denali are like our cousins that's nowhere near family enough to have our child named after one of them." He observed.

"So Elijah is out because it sounds similar to Eleazar?" I asked.

"Yeah." Mal said, nodding his head. "And, well it sounds sort of like Eliza if you say it quickly and that will get as confusing as if we call him Mab."

"Yes." I replied, and then sighed. "Could we discuss names once we are in Tregarran? I have so much to organise to ensure that I forget nothing for our return home I will not be able to give this my full attention which it really deserves."

"Ok. We'll talk about it then." Mal said.

"Thank you." I replied. "If I pack the book in my hand luggage I can read it on the plane in order to have a head start."

"Then I'll go put it in your bag now so we don't forget it." He said.

"Yes. Please do." I said emphatically. "My mind is elsewhere at the moment. This morning I went upstairs to get my sweater because I was feeling chilly and I came back down with my book. I didn't remember until half an hour later. I suppose it's not as bad as when I left my keys at home when I went to aqua aerobics on Wednesday morning. It is a blessing that our doors do not lock automatically. It would have been embarrassing to reveal to Dai that I had locked myself out."

"Well if he'd said anything I would have had words with him." Mal said firmly.

"I would have felt the embarrassment regardless of how he behaved. You know how I hate to appear less than perfect." I replied.

"Don't be so hard on yourself." Mal said firmly. "You'll be your usual organising self. You'll see."

"I think I will manage when I have time to think. However I fear I may have to sort through and check everything I have packed many times. It is the only way to ensure that I have packed everything." I said with worry.

"Liza, I'll go through the bags for you if you want." Mal said in a soft reassuring voice as he stroked back my hair. "And if we do forget anything it's no big deal. I can get them when I come back for the last two weeks of work. As long as we got our passports and tickets then we don't really have to worry about anything else. We got clothes and stuff back at Tregarran so it's not like we'll be in a bother."

"That is true, but you know how I fare on a whim." I said warily.

"A lot better than you used to." Mal said as he took my hand and kissed it. "You'll be fine."

I opened my mouth to speak.

"And if not then I'll just telekinetically move you into the car and drive away before you can think to worry." He said with a slight smile.

"Thank you." I said and hugged him, jumping into his lap.

Mal hugged me in return for a moment before placing his hand to my bump.

"How has our boy been today?" He asked.

"Good." I replied. "A nice steady heartbeat and he's been kicking like nobody's business. I believe he will either be a dancer or a football player."

"Have you been giving Mammy trouble?" Mal asked as he gently tapped my stomach.

I felt the nudge from within as our baby responded to Mal's voice. Mal chuckled.

"Well that's not so nice." Mal chastised playfully. "You will have to be grounded."

"I think we can forgo that considering he is not going anywhere for at least a month." I commented.

"Oh come on Eliza, it's not gonna work if you undermine me and we don't show a united front when it comes to punishment." Mal observed.

"We will work on such things as discipline when the time arises." I stated. "As for now, this is, when we factor in the fact that I wish to sleep early tomorrow so I am not too exhausted when we fly, this is the last night that we have before we are once more in Tregarran and among sensitive ears. Why do we not have some fun?"

"When have I ever turned down fun?" Mal asked, his lips on my head.

"Then let us clear away and retire for the night." I observed before tilting up my head meeting his lips.

We kissed for a long moment before rising to our feet and I washed the dishes while Mal wiped. Once the house was in order we retired to bed to indulge in a little fun. It would be our last night of such love making in Hafod Uchaf before our baby was born. It was all the sweeter for it. Afterwards Mal and I lay together in each other's arms musing yet again on our child, on what he would look like. Would he resemble Mal more, or perhaps me. Perhaps neither and all the Quileute genes that had passed me by would reawaken with in him. This perhaps would be preferable for if the Quileute gene was present in his looks then surely it was all the more likely that the scenario I would not allow myself to imagine for fear of raising false hope would occur. Of course it mattered not what he looked like, provided he was a healthy baby.

As I dreamt that night I had wonderful imaginings of Mal and myself walking side by side. Between us walked our son, but the image refused to settle on one visual characteristic, seeming to shift from moment to moment. Yet in my dream I cared not, he was our son and he was happy and healthy, that was the most important. It made me feel calm and content when I awoke that morning.

The calm did not last; I had to pack our bags on the Saturday. I was in a frenzy more so than I had ever been before, even as a child and my compulsions had been at their worst. After I had repacked the bags for the third time Mal insisted that I stop and before I could argue he whisked me out of the house and into the Land Rover. We were on the road before I found myself able to speak.

"What is this in aid of?" I demanded.

"You're going to drive yourself mad if you keep packing today. Or you drive me mad watching you go around in circles. Or you'll end up breaking the zip or something and then we'll have to buy new luggage." Mal replied.

"Have I been that bad?" I asked

"It won't help if I lie. So yeah, you were, which is why I'm getting you out of the house. We should probably feed before we set out anyway, just in case. So we'll go see what we can get up in Brecon." He stated.

"Thank you." I replied. "I couldn't rouse myself from that state of packing. I was certain I had forgotten something, despite consulting my list every time and checking everything off."

"Well I tell you want, when we get back I'll go through the bags just to check for you. If it weren't for the fact that a taxi is taking us then I'd pack them in the car out of the way." Mal observed.

"I think that a trip out of the house will be of help." I stated.

"Then we'll go feed and work something out when we get back." Mal suggested.

"Yes." I agreed.

Hunting indeed took my mind off packing and with the fresh blood my mind felt a little clearer and I wasn't tempted in the least to redo the bags. I was happy that they were packed and went to sleep without too much bother.

There was little to do the next day other than to shut up the house before midday when the taxi was due to take us to the airport. We had decided to go from Cardiff because it was easier to leave our cars at the farm than pay the extortionate long term parking charges we would otherwise incur.

I felt sad as the taxi pulled away from the farmhouse. It had felt like home and I would miss the place greatly. The only consolation was that we would return here, if only for a vacation, we would return. With that in mind I settled back into the seat of the taxi and once Mal had opened and such that gate I held his hand all the way to the airport in order to return home.

On the plane I fastened the belt correctly beneath my bump, surprised at the difference to the last time I had flown. It was strange to think that the next time I got on a plane, changing planes for our connecting flight did not count, it was still the same journey, my baby would be here. My son would be in my arms, not in my stomach. Suddenly it was very real and as the plane climbed into the afternoon sky I began to wonder how much of a change a baby would be on our lives. We had an adventure ahead and I was nervously excited.


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