Disclaimer: Now are you glad that I don't own Claymore? Like I thought…

Miria's eyes crept open in the bright sunlight to blink once, then twice. Her head throbbed madly, but not enough for her to prevent her from realizing that she was in a bed, under covers. Craning her head, she took stock of her surroundings.

She was in a wooden house, much too large to be defined as a cabin. Sunlight annoyed her through a window on her right side, the wall flush against her bed. To her left on the far side of the room she could see Deneve laying in a bed much like hers, her body wrapped in bindings. A fire crackled somewhere nearby, warming the room. And at the foot of the bed Claire sat on a wooden chair, simply staring out the next window over.

There was something amiss about the taciturn warrior, and it took Miria a few moments to figure out what it was. After their defeat in the north, the Spirits of Pieta had fashioned new uniforms to represent their casting off the Organization. These uniforms were functional as well as symbolic: purely black, the clothes helped camouflage them in shadow and in shade; in the day in the freezing white north, the black stood out against the white landscape and aided in finding a wounded or lost comrade. But now…

But now, Miria thought, Clare wears the uniform like a new widow.

Before Miria could think on what could make such a change, Claire turned and saw her leader staring. "Oh, you're awake. Rise slowly – Priscilla hit you hard."

Miria's hand went to her temple and felt the wrappings around her head. "How long - ?"

"Two hours, maybe more. The sun has not yet reached the hills. The others should be recovering soon as well."

As if on cue, the others began tossing. "Oooooh…" Miria could hear Helen moan, "did anyone get the name of that carriage driver?"

"I believe it was Priscilla," Deneve said weakly.

Heeding Claire's advice, Miria rose slowly, looking at her comrade. "Did we beat her?"

Claire shook her head.

Miria heard Helen sigh from across the room. "Figures. Well, I doubt you could've done anything by yourself. Just means more searching, I guess."

Claire's eyes flickered past Miria, supposedly at Helen. "She didn't run away." Her eyes flickered toward the window.

"Wait, WHAT?" As quickly as they were able, the Spirits of Pieta rose, gathered their swords leaning against their respective bedposts and hobbled to where Claire was looking out the window. There Priscilla was, deceptively innocent, kneeling down on some well-tilled ground a hundred paces away, inspecting the leaves of several plants.

A frown creased Miria's brow. The most powerful and feared Awakened being in the land…gardening?

Helen was already formulating plans. "Her back's to us – she doesn't know we've recovered. I'll have the drill stab ready in a few moments. Deneve, Claire, if you can cut open the wall, we can –"

"No."

Everyone looked at Claire. "What?"

"I said no. I want to talk to her."

Helen spoke slowly, gently, as if she were explaining something to a child. "Claire, this is the most powerful awakened being in all the land. She's killed countless innocents, burned gods-know-how-many villages. She's slaughtered three warriors at least, and you yourself told us of how she killed Teresa – "

Claire cut off Helen with a glare. "Don't presume to tell me what I already know."

Undaunted, Helen folded her arms across her chest. "Then tell us why, instead of taking this wonderful opportunity to attack, we're going to wait around for you to talk."

That was when Miria noticed Claire's expression – it was one of fraying concern, directed towards a certain place. Miria followed her gaze, and Helen and Deneve did the same.

They all ended up looking at a man, one side of his body visible as he went to work stripping the meat from a deer carcass. The mans brow was furrowed, as if his mind was far away from the here and now.

Helen noticed first. "Hey, isn't that – "

Deneve narrowed her eyes. "Yes, it's the boy."

Miria nodded, "But what is he doing here? Unless – "

Priscilla paused in her inspection, and glanced towards the man. Her expression changed to that of worry.

Worry the same caliber as Claire's.

Helen reeled back, choking. "You don't mean to tell me that he and she – they're – "

The look on Claire's face said it all. Though Deneve said nothing, her face softened a little.

For a moment, there was no sound save for the crackling of fire. Then Miria sprang into action.

"Helen, you and I are going to report to the others and see what they have done. Deneve, I need you to stay at the outskirts of this location, reporting intermittently in their movements, changes of this location, everything. I also need you as first-line reconnaissance in case everything goes downhill. And Claire…" she turned and placed a sympathetic hand on Claire's shoulder. "I need you to stay here."

Claire's face collapsed into bewilderment. "Here?"

"I need you to find out what's going on – why Raki's staying, why Priscilla didn't kill us, everything. I think… I think it will do you some good." She patted her subordinate on the shoulder. "Take all the time you'll need… I have a feeling you'll need it."

The sun beat down mercilessly upon Raki as he continued stripping the deer of its meat, but he didn't mind in the least; rather, he welcomed the toil and the suffering - it numbed his mind, purged him of emotion, kept him distant. And distance was what he desperately needed, after the events of the past couple of hours. He suspected Claire was probably in worse shock, which was why she silently made her way to their house with them and even let Priscilla carry one of the Claymores without protest. Like Claire, Raki was still numb from this impossible reunion. After all these years… she was still looking for me…

It was having an effect on Priscilla as well. She was worried about him, he knew that much. His wife normally acted aloof, undisturbed by anyone or anything. But Raki, even occupied as he was, caught her sneaking glances in his direction no less than three times in fifteen minutes, which Raki never thought would happen barring doomsday.

And there she goes again, he thought as she glanced up from her handiwork. To reassure her he looked up as well, giving her a smile and a wave.

Then he realized that Claire was out on the house patio, staring in his direction. Involuntarily he glanced back down and ducked back into his work.

His guilt was laced with indignation. Why do I have to feel guilty for staring at Priscilla? By the gods, she's my wife! Another part of him was not so quick to agree. You know exactly why you feel guilty.

To stave off that particular thought, Raki shaded his eyes and looked at the sun's position to see when this maddening day would end. He nodded in satisfaction. Mid-afternoon, good; Isley will be back soon with -

Oh, gods. With them. Isley would be back with his Miracles. After today, they would be known as his Regrets. Raki chuckled mirthlessly and went back to work with gusto, hacking away the meat to dry or put down for dinner.

Soon enough, Raki sidestepped suddenly; a smooth round stone the size of a medallion thudded heavily against the carcass and landed in the grass.

"An excellent dodge," a smooth baritone voice said behind him. Raki turned and bowed to his teacher and longtime companion Isley, who stepped out from the shadows of the forest edge.

Isley waved the gesture away. "There's no need for that; I'm no longer your teacher."

Raki rose, straightening his tunic. "You may not be my teacher, but you'll always be my better," he said, looking around. "Where are they?"

Isley gestured toward the forest. "I just finished their lesson minutes ago, and told them to clean up the training ground. Knowing them, they'll be along any second now. And your guests have left, save one."

Raki gaped. "Wha-? How did you-! Priscilla said that she couldn't sense any aura from them!"

Isley chuckled. "One does not need to sense yoma energy to follow the movements of another Raki. I was a master swordsman long before I became an abyssal. I have a few skills that you have not yet learned, and probably won't learn for a long time." Isley's gaze drifted past Raki's shoulder; instantly, the young man knew what Isley was looking at. "So that's her, hm?"

Raki's face fell. "Yeah, that's Claire. I think she's still taking it all in."

The long-haired man, nodded. "Still, she should leave. All she will find here is pain."

"Yeah…"

"And you?"

"Huh?"

Isley studied his protégé carefully. "Have you decided to leave with her?"

Raki stammered, taken aback. "How can you ask me that?"

"Raki, the pain on your face is as clear as the sun in the sky. Never for a minute did I think that you had given up waiting for her, even after you wed Priscilla. It was why I asked you to wait – "

Raki winced, but shook his head decisively. "There was nothing we could do. Isley, there was no other way…"

"Still you could make that choice now, follow what's in your heart –"

"No," Raki snapped. "I won't make that choice. What's done is done, and if I back out now, I'd hurt Priscilla… and…" He trailed off for a moment, before turning to Isley with a faint, unhappy smile. "Well, I can't exactly leave now, can I?"

Isley looked up, suddenly aware. "They are coming." He looked at his charge. "Should I introduce Claire to-"

The young man rose. "No, no. I'll do it. They're my responsibility and the sooner Claire knows the better." He turned to walk across to the garden, where they would undoubtedly charge into Priscilla first. "I have one request, Isley; when you do talk to Claire – as I know you'll do eventually – go easy on her. She's going to hurt a lot after this."

He walked off, leaving Isley alone with his thoughts.

Aren't we all, Raki. Aren't we all…

Claire did her level best to ignore Raki as he made his way over to the garden, and studied her surroundings. Off to the north across the valley lay a mountain range, making headway difficult. Forest enclosed the area from the east and west, and a river crossed the two in the south. But the clearing itself was a plain, secluded from the rest of the world.

Were it not for the fact that we entered the forest on the eastern side, we might never have found them, Claire thought, but it will be hard for large companies to make their way through – an almost perfect sanctuary.

Laughter drifted through the air, trickling into Claire's ears. Despite herself, she turned to look over to the garden. Two small figures darted out from the clearing, half-yelling, half-laughing as they ran toward Priscilla. Priscilla met their charge head-on by bending down on one knee and embracing them both warmly.

Claire frowned, puzzled. Riful told me that Priscilla ignored the little girls in the villages that she slaughtered, but openly embracing them…?

Then she saw the silver in their eyes.

She saw Raki reach down to hug them.

She took a step back, foot thudding heavily on the wooden landing. No. No. Nonononono…

From afar she saw despondency flicker in Raki's expression as he spoke softly to the two children. Then, turning them around, he guided them towards the cabin's porch.

Raki swallowed visibly before starting in a falsely cheerful tone. "Kids, I'd like you to meet your Aunt Claire. Claire, this is Zaki," he said, indicating the boy on his right – he looks so much like his father, Claire thought. "And this is Melissa," Raki introduced, patting the shoulder of the ponytailed girl on the left.

The children looked at her, and she looked back. The bare facts, laid in front of her, refused to sink in.

They were his children, his family.

Family... that she would never be able to give him.

The girl finally spoke up. "Are you as strong as Papa says you are?"

Mind blank, Claire was at a loss for words. "I…I-"

Raki nudged the…his children gently along. "Now kids, Aunt Claire is tired; let's not bother her with questions. Now, go wash up in the river before dinnertime – you stink after training!" He gave a chuckle, and the children ran back towards the garden with Raki in tow. He gave a look of bottomless apology. "I…need to make sure they really wash up," was all he said before turning away.

Impossible, Claire's mind whispered at her as Raki shrank in the distance. Warriors of the Organization – even awakened ones – weren't supposed to be able to bear children, even after the Organization's forging process. Claire grasped at reason – any reason – why this situation was before her eyes.

Wait! She stared at the children, walking away side by side. Duph was able to separate parts of his body. What if Priscilla was - ? She narrowed her eyes as she probed the yoma aura of the children.

"They are real."

Claire jumped at the sound of the baritone voice coming from behind her. She turned to see a tall man with long white hair standing behind her, massive aura dormant; still, Claire fought not to wobble in the presence of the White-Haired Mountain King, Isley.

I need to stop getting caught off-guard, she reprimanded herself. Aloud she said in an even tone, "What do you mean?"

The former top-ranked male warrior looked at her with a smile playing about his lips. "You're thinking what I thought four years ago, when I heard Priscilla was pregnant – that she was simply faking it with pieces of her flesh to create her own family. I myself can control portions of my body remotely, but to do that they would need my aura. If you examine Melissa's and Zaki's auras, they are unique. Not even Priscilla can fake that. I simply assume that through some miracle granted by the gods that Priscilla was able to heal her body and give birth to children again."

Disbelieving, Claire pushed her senses outward and found out that their signatures were indeed different from Priscilla's, and yet –

"They're massive," she whispered.

"No." Isley chuckled as he corrected her. "They're magnificent. At eight summers old, their power is on par with the Creatures of the Abyss. Flawless hybrids, created from the love of a human and the most powerful creature in the land – those children carry the future with them."

Claire turned to Isley, confused. "'Eight summmers?' But you said you found out she was pregnant four years ago."

Isley responded with a shrug. "With the children born as hybrids, we are breaking new ground. They seem to be maturing at twice the rate of humans. I sympathize with Raki – he felt honor bound to marry Priscilla after he found out about the pregnancy, but in a few years he won't be dealing with him as his children, but as his peers."

The woman tried to burn a hole through Isley's head with her glare. "How could you let this happen?"

Isley rocked back on his heels, caught off guard by the accusation. "'How could I let…?' I was away patrolling the lands when they bonded. And when Raki and I found out about the pregnancy, Raki felt obligated to wed her. I could not object – the first time I saw Priscilla embrace Raki in the north, I knew she would be fond of him. After all," he said as he turned back to look at Priscilla, "I gave up my fiefdom for her. I conquered the south – for her. And I will stifle my reservations – for her."

Clare narrowed her gaze at the White-Haired Mountain King. "Stop pretending to be noble, Butcher of Pieta."

Isley chuckled. "Now, there is a title that I haven't heard yet, You call me Butcher; yet, had your friends not made a stand at Pieta, many would still have lived – that is, until the Organization decided that they had no more use for them. Tell me, warrior, who was trying to kill, and who was trying to survive during that battle?"

"You are trying to cloud the issue."

"And you are trying to simplify it," he countered, "to justify your ends. But we are not monsters. We love, we hate, we play and work like any intelligent beings. Would you deny the status of them as well? Of them," Isley gestured towards the children dashing into the woods, "Raki's own flesh and blood?"

Claire's silence was all the answer Isley needed. He stepped past her; over his shoulder he remarked, "After centuries of musing, I finally realized why the gods cast the first man and woman out of paradise after eating the fruit of knowledge of good and evil. Do you know why?"

Claire gave the rote response. "Because they didn't obey the gods' directive."

Isley shook his head as he walked away, back into the forest. "No – it was because man's greatest sin was to presume to know what was good and what was evil afterwards."

Dinner was an unmitigated disaster.

Not that anything out of the ordinary happened, no; but it was the expectation and eventual disappointment in something happening that made it a disaster.

After Isley said his goodbyes to the family, Priscilla, Melissa, and Zaki sat down at the dinner table, where Raki had prepared roasted deer flank. Raki rose to get Claire – Priscilla knew that to be her name – from the guest bedroom. Despite herself, Priscilla's senses couldn't help but pick up Raki's soft invitation and Claire's muffled refusal through the door. From the disappointed looks on the children's faces, they heard too.

They all looked up as Raki stepped back into the room, an unreassuringly weak smile on his face.

Zaki spoke first. "Aunty Claire's not coming?"

Raki shook his head as he began portioning out the dinner. "Guess the trip made her more tired than I thought."

The hybrid boy played with his food. "Aww, I wanted to ask her what the Outside was like."

Priscilla and Raki exchanged glances. "You'll get to see what the Outside world is like after Isley says you're finished with training," Raki admonished faintly.

Priscilla placed a hand over her son's. "Don't worry, you'll get your chance."

Melissa chimed in. "Yeah, if you learned to control your ability, we'd probably be out there already!"

"Melissa!" Raki scolded. "You need to learn more tact. Battles may be won with power, but more often than not wars are won with words."

Melissa sank into her seat. "Sorry, papa."

Everything else passed by uneventfully, with the members of the household taking only occasional glances toward the guest bedroom.

Priscilla knew that out of all of them, Raki was the most troubled, and resolved to cheer him up.

Later on that night Priscilla stood in the doorway of their bedroom, careful to keep within the shadows of the candlelight so that Raki would only see her silhouette when he looked up from his clenched fists on the blanket. "So, are the kids asleep?"

"Yes, they are – I can feel that they've calmed down for the night," she said in that soft voice of hers.

"That's good, that's good…"

"And now to calm you down, my husband…" She stepped into the light, and savored the sound of his sudden intake of breath.

She approached him wearing her silken light-pink nightie, his favorite because it reminded him of the first time they made love.

She bent down to kiss him, peeling back the sheet with one hand, the other lightly stroking his cheek. His hands automatically reached around her as he sat her on his lap.

She delighted in his surprise when he realized that she was wearing nothing underneath. Catching his lips up in his, she rose up against him, pushing flesh to the cloth of his pants to tantalize him in ways only she could, with promises of the night to come.

His reaction wasn't what she hoped. Slowly but steadily, he pushed her away.

"Raki?" she breathed, not quite comprehending what he was doing.

"Not tonight," he whispered. His eyes flickered once, to the wall on his right – the wall shared with the guest bedroom. He tried to hide it, but Priscilla caught it. "Maybe tomorrow, but… just not tonight."

Priscilla held his gaze, saw the depths of sadness held there, something that, for all her power, she could not heal.

"I understand," she said softly, and got off the bed to slip into something a little warmer.

When she turned back to him in pajamas, he was already asleep, even in full candlelight. Today must have been exhausting for him.

And so she ended her evening like she always did – she extinguished the candle's flame between her finger and thumb, got into bed, held her husband close… and pretended he was murmuring her name…instead of another woman's…

To Be Continued

Author's note: As some of you may have noticed, this is somewhat of a sequel to Sideris' "Lick." I figure it's a good enough launching point for this story.

Also, I have cut down the number of expected chapters from six to five. Three and four simply don't have enough content to make them separate chapters, so I'm merging the two.

Again, props to the prereaders Ikarus Onesun, Sideris, and Wanderer for their critical eyes.