.25.

Needless to say, the rest of the day felt like a bit of a bust. It took nearly an hour for them to bully Amren into going down to the Hospital Wing to give birth. After wrangling an uncooperative Amren down several flights of stairs to the Hospital Wing, they all dispersed throughout the castle. To their common rooms, the library, working on their petition in the Room of Requirement. The one thing that none of them did was go to their classes. There seemed to be no point any more. Not with Headmistress McGonagall going around the bend the way she so clearly had.

It appeared that the past year of teaching and studying had been to no avail, not if they were to be denied their rights. Their fellow students had mostly come to accept them, as had the majority of the staff while the school ghosts were indifferent. They had thought that the Headmistress had started to accept them, had started to see them as people rather than as just monsters. It was heart-rending to discover that their efforts had been in vain.

While everyone else sought to find a conceivable way to return to their own world, Amren laboured to birth her child – a child that she had never wanted. A child that she would be giving away to its father and never seeing again after it was born. But at the moment Amren didn't care about that – she just wanted the damn brat to get out of her. She wanted her body back. The last few months had been an absolute nightmare for her.

Speaking of fathers, Varian was pacing back and forth in the corridor outside the Hospital Wing. Varian had wanted to be present for the birth of his child, but when he'd tried entering, Madam Pomfrey had kicked him straight back out, saying that a birth was no place for a man. And so Varian was left outside to pace and worry. Despite this the sound of Amren's screams of anger and pain rang out into the corridor. Each shout, each scream, each declaration that she hated him was like a punch to the gut. He had loved Amren so much. As he waited for their child to be born, he couldn't stop himself from wondering how had it come to this? How could Amren bring herself to willingly throw away her own child like it was garbage? How had their relationship come to this? It was almost beyond comprehension.

He had loved Amren more than he had ever loved anyone before, but his feelings for her had died when he had found out that she was going to get rid of their child before it was born – before it even had the chance to live. Unlike Amren, Varian wanted to be a parent and from the moment he found out that he was going to be a father, he already knew that he would love that child enough for the both of them. He might have decided not to find out the gender of the child, wanting it to be a surprise, but he truly would have been happy with either a boy or a girl. He'd even picked out the names himself.

Umar, if it were a boy, and Ayesha if it were a girl.

His sister Cresseida had joked about naming the baby after Amren if it were a girl. But Varian had disagreed fiercely with her, saying that he just wanted a fresh start now. A new life for himself and his child. Even Tarquin agreed with him. He knew that Tarquin had never really understood what he'd felt for Amren, what he saw in her, but he knew – he had always known that Tarquin would support him. It made him feel better in a way, knowing that his sister and his cousin would always have his back. It gave him comfort.

What seemed strangest to him, in a way, was that even those closest to Amren disapproved of her choices, especially in regards to their child and were disappointed in her. When the news of Amren wanting an abortion had come out Rhysand had even come to him and apologised repeatedly to him, saying that he had never dreamed that Amren would do something like this to him. Nothing about the current situation had been Rhysand's fault, but he still felt immensely guilty about it all.

Vaguely Varian was aware of the rest of the students who were from other dimensions like him coming and going from different parts of the castle and briefly wondered what the staff thought about them not being in their classes that day. But after the stunt that the Headmistress had pulled that morning, he really couldn't care less. A part of him wished that he could help them with their planning, but he knew that he couldn't. Not until his child was born. Family had always been important to him. Things would begin to calm down a little in a day or two, and he would be able to help them then. Varian just wanted to have his precious baby in his arms by tonight.

After a few miserable nerve-wrecking hours Tarquin and Cresseida joined him outside the Hospital Wing, though he was barely aware of it. A part of him felt guilty for ignoring them so thoroughly, but they seemed to understand, as they talked to each other quietly and let him continue to pace in silence.

Finally after what seemed like an eternity, Amren's cries subsided and Madam Pomfrey, the matron, exited the Hospital Wing carrying a little pink wrapped bundle in her arms.

"Looks like you have a gorgeous baby girl, cousin," Tarquin said quietly, eyes twinkling happily. "I'm happy for you, cousin."

"So am I, lil bro," Cresseida said softly, peering over Tarqin's and Varian's shoulders to get a good look at her new niece.

But Madam Pomfrey seemed reluctant to hand the newborn over to her father. "Seems rather cruel to take a little girl away from her mother," the matron murmured with a surprising amount of cynicism.

"I'm not taking my child away from her mother," Varian said sharply. "Amren chose at the outset not to play any part in our child's life. After that, I reckon that means that she doesn't deserve to play any further part in my life, or the child's life. Do you understand me?"

Madam Pomfrey nodded, suddenly slightly afraid of the Fae male in front of her, but still muttered "It's not right," under her breath, not realising that they could still hear her.

"Good. Now are you going to let me hold my new daughter or not?" Varian asked tightly. At that Madam Pomfrey almost instantly handed over the baby looking almost nervous and shocked, and scuttled back toward the Hospital Wing's double doors.

But Madam Pomfrey was a stern and unyielding woman and not as easily cowed as people usually thought. Not even the sight of three full-grown, snarling fae were enough to intimidate her into submission. Just as Madam Pomfrey was about to re-enter the Hospital wing, leaving Varian and his family to get acquainted with their newest member when she suddenly turned around sharply and spoke. "Amren said that she wishes the child to be named Malalai," she said authoritatively.

"Does she now?" Tarquin said angrily. "In my opinion, seeing as Amren has given up her rights tp the child, she shouldn't even get to decide what she will be called by for the rest of her life."

At this Madam Pomfrey's eyebrow's rose dangerously high. "Are you sure about that? I'm sure that Amren and her friend Rhysand would disagree with that."

"You'd be wrong about that," Varian coolly. "In fact Rhysand told me a few weeks ago that he never thought that Amren would stoop so low. And as far as Amren is concerned, I really couldn't care less about what she thinks. Not anymore. Besides, there's no way in hell I am giving my daughter such a miserable name."

"But Malalai is such a sweet, pretty sounding name," Madam Pomfrey said calmly. "I don't see what you have against it. It's just a name, after all."

"The name Malalai means grief-stricken," Tarquin said lightly. "For a child in a High Lord's family to be given such a sad name is considered a sign of bad luck."

For the first time, Madam Pomfrey seemed truly disconcerted. "Then … then what are you planning on naming her?"

"Ayesha," Varian said gently, smiling down at his newborn daughter. "It's a very pretty name that means 'alive'. Very apt, in my opinion, especially as I had to fight for her right to be alive – her right to be born, in the first place. What do you think?"

At that Madam Pomfrey stalked back into the Hospital Wing, with a massive scowl on her face. She had hated every single moment of that confrontation. In her opinion, you didn't take a newborn child away from its mother. You just didn't. It didn't matter to her whether or not the mother wanted the child. A baby belonged with its mother. She didn't care about how nice a person the father appeared to be. In a case such as this, a little girl belonged with her mother, a little boy with his father. But there was nothing she could about it now.

When she had refused to perform the abortion just under eight months before, she had hoped that Amren would grow to love the baby that grew in her womb, and would want to keep it. But that had not happened. And when Amren continued to insist that she didn't want the baby growing within her, she personally had hoped that the pregnancy would bring her closer to her baby's father. But, instead it had only driven them further apart. She didn't understand how the prospect of a precious new life could drive people apart, but this was where they were at, apparently.

Varian and his family had won this round. And at that moment Madam Pomfrey knew that Headmistress McGonagall's plan to trap all of the interdimensional students here for the indefinite future was righteous. It had to succeed. There was no other alternative. She would consider no other alternative.

As Gavriel sat by himself at a tiny table in the darkest, most distant corner of the library, shuffling a sheaf of papers, he looked completely and utterly miserable. Months ago, back in late October he'd noticed that there was something almost intimately familiar about Aedion Ashryver. And had promised himself that he would attempt to find out why he felt the young man was seemed just so familiar to him. And finally, after months of research and investigation, he thought that he had finally come close to solving the riddle. The answer to this particular riddle had haunted and plagued him for months, the answer so close, yet still so far out of his reach.

Now that he thought that he finally found out the answer, it seemed so unlikely, and yet… So apt that he figure it out today – the very same day that Amren's and Varian's child came into the world. A world that hated the simple fact that a child like her existed in the first place. A world that would have been very happy if it had been stillborn or died a very ugly death.

But could it be true? Could it really be true? Could Aedion really be the son that he had dreamed of having with the woman he'd loved so much? Gavriel wanted to believe it, yet he didn't want to believe it at the same time. He might have loved Aedion's mother, but he'd abanonded her nearly twenty six years ago, at Maeve's request, and having just turned twenty five, Aedion was about the right age.

While he had soved the nature of the riddle that had plagued him for months, Gavriel still had a lot of unanswered questions that he needed answered. Gavriel knew that Aedion had been raised in Terrasen alongside his cousin Aelin, and not his homeland of Wendlyn, so what had happened to his mother? Did Aedion know that he was his father? Did Rowan and Aelin know the truth? Surely Rowan would have realised it when he first met Aedion. Rowan would have been able to scent Aedion's heritage on him. But if he knew, why hadn't Rowan flipping well told him? He damn well had a right to know that he had a son.

Did he, though? Have a right to know that he had a son, though? He'd spent the last twenty five years wondering what had happened to the woman he'd loved he had never wondered if she'd had any children. He hadn't wanted to know, because if he'd ever learned the name of the man who'd fathered her children … he would have killed that man. Slowly. Painfully. No questions about it.

He'd so worried about her when he'd walked away – she'd seemed so upset, so heartbroken to see him leave – yet, and yet he'd never wondered why. Hadn't she wanted him to know? If he'd known that she might have been pregnant when he left her, he would done anything to protect her and their son. Damn it, he even would have defended her to her family when they found out. She'd always seemed gunshy of having him meet her family. But from what little she had told him, he knew deep down that they would never have accepted having a young unwed mother in the family. She would have been disinherited the moment they found out about it.

But how come he had never known? How come no one had ever told him? He really just wanted to know the truth. It had been twenty-five years after all. That had been far too long. He had to know. But how was he going to find out more? It's not like he could just stump up and demand answers.