Hello all! Chapter dedicated to all my faithful reviewers, who I love very much :) Please don't forget to let me know what you think of this one!

Chapter 18

Jahar, is that a fighter parked in your field? Kalladin asked, as they crested the hill above Jahar's scoop. A chill wind whipped the knee high grasses on the ridge, caressing Jahar's legs and carrying the scent of rain to her nostrils. Behind her two the two smaller Andalites used the opportunity of the adults' halt to catch up, fighting through the tall grass which actually stood higher than one of them. Jahar followed her friend's pointing hand to the small ship settled on the grass, and her hearts clenched.

It's military issue.

Alloran, Kalladin said softly. Jahar nodded.

Or news about him. She was unsure how to react, having heard nothing from Alloran. No word from him of his disgrace, or his future plans or of a return visit. His reticent silence irritated her, an annoyance aggravating her burning anger against him. She turned to Kalladin and smiled. My old friend, I love you very deeply.

But you would prefer it if I left now, Kalladin finished. I understand, Jahar. She reached out her tail and gently touched the blade to Jahar's. He is not cursed, old friend. No matter how it seems. And you were never so happy as when he asked you to be his. Do try and remember that you love him. Jahar lifted her tail away, breaking the comforting contact.

I know Kalladin. That's the problem.

Kalladin turned back towards her own lands, a good gallop away, and picked up speed. Farling nudged Jahar's front legs with his tail, demanding attention.

Mother, why is Kalladin leaving so soon? Jahar sighed and reached down with her hand, rubbing the knuckles across his shoulders. He sent her a stream of contented happiness, still unable to conceal his baby emotions from her. Farling was getting better, and he now closed his emotions against most of Jahar's friends, but he still did not seem to see the need to shut them off from his mother, and Jahar always knew his emotional state exactly.

We might have a visitor, Farling. Kalladin didn't want to get in the way of us meeting whoever it is. Jahar never lied to her children if she could help it. She knew many Andalite parents practiced small deceits to quiet their offspring's questioning, but she disapproved of the habit. She waited until the smaller Andalite baby had caught its breath again and then set off at a gentle trot down the grassy slope back towards the scoop. Farling and his sister galloped at her side, their tiny legs flying to keep up with her. The smaller baby stumbled on the uneven ground, catching her oversize hooves, and the sight of her tripping amused Jahar, lifting her spirits a little. Still, it did little to dispel the cold feeling curling through her chest, and she realised that her pulse was racing, her blood pounding in her ears.

As they neared the scoop Jahar could see another Andalite galloping in the meadow just beyond it, next to the field the fighter had landed in. Her hearts flipped as she recognised Alloran's build and the silvery sheen to his fur. So, he had come home.

He clearly saw her at about the same time she saw him as he turned and galloped towards her, to meet her. Jahar slowed to a walk and the babies congregated around her. Her daughter was nervous, frightened by the big male she had never seen before, and Jahar sent her calming reassurances. Farling was less afraid, as he had seen his father recently enough to remember, but he too stuck close to Jahar and sent his sister jealous glances as she used her smaller size to shelter between Jahar's front legs.

Alloran slowed in front of them, breathing hard, his sides covered in a light lather. He had clearly been running a while and Jahar wondered how long he had been in that field, waiting to meet her, waiting to face her. She stopped and the babies milled around her feet as Alloran came to a halt in front of her. He lifted his eyes to her face and his gaze was devoid of emotion.

Greetings Jahar, he said quietly.

Greetings War Prince Alloran, she replied, and then cursed inwardly for using his rank. Alloran visibly winced.

I would prefer it if you did not use that title, he said.

Yes, of course, Jahar replied, emotionless. She didn't know what to say or do. Her hearts were racing, but in her mind was a strange cold calm to match Alloran's – his emptiness was catching. And it was emptiness, now that she looked more closely at him. He seemed like a hollow shell, drained of the vivacious spark that had so defined him. Jahar stepped back, and allowed him to see the babies, in a bid to fill the yawning silence between them. Alloran's eyes flicked cursorily over Farling and he extended his tail in a loveless greeting. Farling lifted his blade to his father's, confused by the lack of response in the bigger Andalite. For a second, when Alloran's eyes landed on the other baby, they lighted again.

A daughter?

Her name is Tirdellan, Jahar said. She said nothing of the horror of feeling Tirdellan die within her, of the desperate flight to the nearest medical centre cradling the miscarried mess in her arms, of the Andalite physicians telling her to let this one go and her begging and pleading them to try, try! Nothing of the dreadfulness of watching them prod and poke the mangled baby, and then the wonderful feeling of relief when suddenly they coaxed a pulse back into its limbs and breath into its lungs and Tirdellan, too small and tiny to live outside of an incubation cube for a while, crawled her way back to life.

Alloran frowned.

You already named her, Jahar?

I did not know when you would return, Jahar replied, meeting his gaze steadily. That was it, she resolved. The only sign she would give of her annoyance at his lack of communication. Alloran sighed.

Neither did I, he said honestly, and turned back to the scoop. I need to do some work. I will talk to you later.

And like that she was dismissed. Rage boiled in Jahar, fury at his conduct. No apology, no explanation. He had just sauntered in, ran his eyes disparagingly over her side of the marriage bargain and quibbled over her naming their daughter.

As if he had performed his duties as a husband blamelessly.

Mother, why are you so angry? Farling asked, gazing up at her with uncertain eyes. She groaned and cursed at herself again. She had grown too used to sharing Farling's feelings, to bathing him in her own equanimity that when she had lost her temper she had forgotten to cut him off from her emotions.

Your father has annoyed me, she said shortly. Tirdellan was confused and upset, so she calmed herself forcefully and shared her fragile composure with her daughter. Farling took a step uncertainly after Alloran.

He is very different, he said.

Yes, Jahar replied. He is.

Alloran avoided conversation as far as he could over the next few days. He spent much of his time out, wandering aimlessly over their fields or out of sight for hours at a time. For Jahar life continued much as before, as if she was still the only parent in the Scoop, except that every evening Alloran came home again, bringing an air of despondency and riling her. Whenever she could she packed the babies into The Jahar and took them to visit her friends, desperate to escape the coldness of her husband. He had not spoken a loving word to her since his return. And he had not touched her. Not even with the very tip of his tail. The feeling that she was unloved undermined the burning anger in her, filling her with a growing numb misery, which she tried desperately to quash for the sake of Farling and Tirdellan. She was still able to laugh with her friends (even if her circle of acquaintances had shrunk to the very few who remained loyal to her in her disgrace) and to cavort with Farling and Tirdellan, but increasingly it required long night runs to work off the steam and scream at the stars.

She had him back, but Alloran wasn't back at all.

It was as if the warm loving Andalite she had married had melted away, leaving just the empty shell that had once held him. it wasn't a marriage anymore, because she felt alone, the only parent for her children.

After a particularly stressful day in which Alloran had not even acknowledged Farling's attempts to engage his father in some play fighting Jahar galloped far further than usual, under the gleaming stars, pounding the hard ground with her hooves until her legs ached. Surprised she perceived a gleam ahead, the moons reflecting off a great body of black water. She'd been running for hours, long enough to have reached Lake Stilena, and she shivered as she slowed to a trot. The night air was chilly and it would be almost morning by the time she got back to the scoop. Descending between the dunes, Jahar picked her way over the sand and down to the waterline. As she waded in, the warm water lapped at her foaming sides silkily, carrying away the sweat she'd worked up, and she sighed, feeling the heat of the day still in the lake relaxing her and loosening her limbs. The sound of a ship's engine made her look up, startled, and she turned back to the beach, watching as a ship landed on the sand. It was unmistakably The Jahar.

Jahar's hearts thudded, and for a second she considered running away so that the pilot wouldn't see her, but instead she stood still, frozen in indecision, as an Andalite figure descended from the ship. Alloran (for of course it was him) saw her almost instantly and hesitated on the sand.

Are you going to run away from me again? Jahar asked tiredly, the soothing water washing gently over her back. She was not in the mood for a fight anymore but was sick and tired of this terrible impasse between them.

Forgive me. I did not know you were here, Alloran replied formally, walking uncertainly forward to the water's edge. I did not follow you, if that's what you think.

Jahar snorted. I wouldn't dare to hope you could care enough to bother. The dim moonlight filtered down on Alloran's face and she remembered suddenly another night, long ago, when they had met in moonlight and he had asked her to be his. There was something about the night time. The shadows of darkness gave her the courage to speak as she could not during the day. Alloran's face was in shadow, unreadable.

Jahar, I care about you, he said dully. Jahar laughed derisively and suddenly kicked her heels, crashing out of the water and right up in front of him.

Indeed. So much that you won't speak to me or touch me.

Alloran faltered. I am ashamed.

She grabbed his arm with her hand, a shockingly violent gesture for an Andalite, pulling him towards her, and he resisted instantly, waking up and snapping his tail threateningly.

Ha! she cried. A reaction! I haven't seen one of those for a while.

Jahar, he warned, and she ignored him and cracked her own tail forward. FWAPP! He barely blocked her blow, aimed at his throat. Jahar! She said nothing but attacked him again, another cruel blow aimed at his head, and this time he not only blocked her but struck back, his tail blade pressed suddenly under her chin.

So you can move, still, Jahar said coldly.

Are you trying to provoke me? Alloran asked bitterly. To prove I really am mad?

How would I know if you were or not? Jahar replied. You won't speak to me.

I told you, I am ashamed! he growled.

So you come home and treat me like I no longer exist! Angrily she pushed her chin down on his blade, and he relented it, pulling it back to avoid cutting her. Alloran, you are the father of my children. You are my husband! She paused, suddenly horrified. The children! We left them alone! Pushing past Alloran she made for The Jahar and he followed her in obediently. I can't believe you were so callous, Jahar complained, as she coaxed the engines to life. The Jahar powered up again with a welcoming whine and lifted off easily. Jahar set the autopilot for home, and turned angrily back to Alloran. You can't act so irresponsibly, no matter how much you are wallowing in self pity! If my children are hurt I will not spare you on account of your misery.

Alloran stepped away from her, as if her anger physically drove him back. His head hung, his shoulders slumped, the brief fire in his eyes diminished again. If you want, I will kill myself, he said quietly. Then you can marry again. Jahar stared at him incredulously.

How could you dare? she hissed. How dare you talk of killing yourself? You have children.

They deserve a better father than me, Alloran replied, stirring himself again. And you a better husband. I'm a monster, Jahar.

No you're not.

Yes, I am, he said firmly. I look back at what I did and I am appalled, Jahar. I can not understand how I carried such evil inside me.

Jahar stared at him for a moment, shaking with anger and fear too, the fear that he really would make good his threat and remove himself forever. Finally she reached out a quivering hand and touched his cheek. He fell into her palm, slumping heavily against her. I don't know why you did it, she said, fighting to control herself. But I don't care, Alloran. War is a male arena. What you do there is not my concern. What you are doing at home, in my scoop, is destroying our family.

What does it matter when I have already ruined our family's prospects? Alloran protested miserably. The future for our children.

Do not ruin their childhood too, Jahar snapped. Alloran, if you truly love them then show them some affection. Don't ignore them.

I don't deserve them, Alloran replied mournfully. I am a failure. I tried to do what I thought best and I failed. I don't deserve two children to blight, and you, my darling Jahar, don't deserve to be ruined by me.

Fwapp! Her blow caught him unprepared, a stinging snap across his face, and he staggered back, more shocked than angry. I am your wife, Jahar growled. Alloran, I chose to stand by you. You can not dispose of our marriage simply because it is no longer convenient. He leaned towards her, tentatively.

Jahar, I can not stand myself for the misery I have inflicted on you.

You are inflicting far more by shutting me out, Jahar said grimly. Alloran hesitated, and when he spoke again his thought speak was lifted with a new note, one which she hadn't heard in his voice since his return. Hope.

So, if I apologise and try to do better, could you possibly forgive me?

I will start to, Jahar replied. Alloran, I don't care what you did. I need you to love me and be my husband and provide a father for our children. I need you to do that.

He reached out and touched her shoulder, and she reciprocated, reaching up and linking her hands behind the back of his head. It will be hard to live on after such a disgrace, Alloran whispered. But because I love you, I will.

Jahar heaved a sigh of relief and used one of her hands to touch his cheek in the briefest kiss.

Thank you, Alloran. Thank you, love.

When they reached the scoop Farling was awake, anxiously waiting by the entrance of the sleeping area.

Where did you go, Mother? he asked.

Your mother went for a run, Alloran replied, and Farling turned to his father, surprised by the response. He'd been expecting Jahar to reply. Alloran smiled. And I went to find her, and we talked about important things. Alloran stepped forwards, reaching down with his hand to stroke Farling. Despite himself, the young Andalite stretched happily under his father's fingers. Now, what are you doing up?

I had a bad dream, Farling admitted. I didn't wake Tirdellan though.

A bad dream? Alloran asked. He glanced at Jahar for a second, for confirmation, and she gave him a tiny nod. Well, Alloran said, reaching down again to his son, why don't you tell me about it and we'll sort it out.