A/N: A warning that this chapter is nsfw; if you aren't interested in that sort of thing you can safely skip the rest of the chapter when you get to it without missing out on plot. ~K

"Did it work?" Elias regarded Chise anxiously, pausing as he pulled the heavy duvet up over her shoulders.

"Did it... I don't know?"

Elias propped his pyjama-clad elbow more comfortably on his pillow and tilted his head in confusion. "But you must know. Women know these things. Everyone says so."

"Some women think they can tell, Elias," Chise said gently. "I'll still need to take a pregnancy test with Shannon to be sure, remember, and even then it won't be able to tell for days yet, maybe weeks. Remember? The sperm needs to reach the egg, and then the fertilized egg travels down the fallopian tube to the uterus-"

"Ruth, can you tell?"

Ruth raised his doggy chin over the end of the bed and regarded the mage flatly. "What makes you think that I would have any idea what it would feel like to be pregnant?"

Elias sighed, and dolefully looked back to his wife. "Days?"

"At least."

"Or weeks."

"Or weeks. Certainly not hours later." She smiled sympathetically, and brushed her hand along his cheek, gently cradling it. "But I promise, the moment I feel anything different, I will tell you right away. All right?"

"All right." Elias pressed his hand over hers, then clasped it in his, looking down at their entwined fingers. Chise's usual glamour was back in place; her fingers were small and pale against his. "Perhaps the rings will alert me."

"Perhaps." She pressed a kiss to his nose, and settled back into the bed beside him. "Goodnight, Elias."

"Goodnight, my love," he replied absently, still staring at his ring.

He asked again the next morning at breakfast. "Do you think it worked?"

"Elias..."

"Are you feeling nauseous at all?" He pressed a hand to his chest. "My insides feel all fluttery and breakfast isn't sitting very well. Am I nauseous?"

"I think I'm about to be," muttered Ruth, giving him a dark look as he reached for the toast.

"Elias..."

Elias looked up, mouth agape. "What if I'm pregnant? Rahab only thought I was male because of my voice, but women can have deep voices too—"

"Elias!" Chise slapped the flat of her hand on the table. "You aren't pregnant! You're just nervous." She rubbed her stinging palm.

"But how do we know?" Elias asked plaintively.

"Because I don't make sperm."

"Ah. Yes." He looked abashed. "But—do I?"

Ruth gave him a disgusted look and rose, stuffing the last of his toast into his mouth. "'m fee'ing 'eh 'ickens," he said, and stalked from the room.

Sorry Ruth, Chise thought at him.

It's okay, he replied shortly. I'm nervous too. I just need some air.

All right. She met Elias's gaze. "If you don't," she said dryly, "You certainly fake it well."

"I honestly don't know how I do it," he confessed, somewhat woefully. "It just sort of—happens? But what if—?"

"Elias." Chise leaned across the table, taking his hands. "It's all right. It's all going to be all right. I'm nervous too. It's a big step! But it's one we've thought over carefully, and prepared to the best of our abilities for, and we have lots of help if anything goes wrong. Which it won't." She squeezed his gloved hands, willing him to believe her. Willing it to be true. "If—if—I'm not pregnant in say six months, then we can have Shannon see about running some tests to make sure you're producing viable sperm, if you like. And if it comes right down to it, there's all sorts of fertility treatments they can do nowadays if we can't do it the old-fashioned way on our own.

"But Elias." She squeezed his hands tighter, and leaned in closer, her voice serious. "I really need you to try and be as calm about this as you can be, and to try to not let yourself get all worked up about it. Because I need to do the same, I need to be calm about it all as well, or we're both just going to be complete messes. And I can't stay calm for both you and me. Do you understand? I'm not angry with you—not at all. But it's a big step for us all, and I'm nervous about it all too, and if you start freaking out I'm going to slip straight from nervous to terrified."

Elias looked chagrined and said nothing, lowering his gaze to their hands, but nodded slightly, and returned her squeeze.

"It's going to be okay. All right? It really is. This might be the first time we've done this; but we're far from the first people to have a baby. Right?"

He sighed deeply, and nodded again, then swallowed heavily. "But Chise," he whispered, "There's so many unknowns with us. What if—what if something g—"

"No. Don't even say it. Everything will be fine."

"Chise." Elias's eyes met hers. "I can't lose you."

"I know," she said, her voice thick. "But you won't."

He looked down at their hands again. In a tiny voice, he said, "Promise?"

Three weeks later Chise got her period. Right on schedule.

"Well, I didn't really think it would happen right away," she sighed, leaning against Elias, his arm tucked securely around her. "But I hoped."

Elias gave her a reassuring squeeze before standing up from the side of the bed, where he had been sitting beside her. "We'll try again," he soothed, "as soon as we can. Meanwhile," and he bent to remove her slippers, "back into bed with you."

Chise obediently climbed back under the covers, and held them up for Ruth, who climbed in and flopped down to press his doggy back to her stomach, not even bothering to tread his circles first. "I hope this happens soon," he grumbled, as Chise gratefully pressed her tummy to his warmth. "I don't know how human women put up with this."

"We have to," she said simply; "we aren't given a choice."

"I'll have Silky bring you some nice hot tea in a while," Elias said, tucking the covers in around her neck as Ruth muttered under his breath at the unfairness of it all.

"Please," she said wearily, closing her eyes.

It was a week later that Elias paused as he was unbuttoning his shirt in their bedroom that evening, suspenders already dangling about his hips, and glanced sideways at her. "Chise," he all but purred, "Don't bother putting your nightgown on just yet."

Chise paused, arms halfway through the sleeves, and peeked at him through the neckhole. "Oh?"

Elias casually paced a step closer, undoing his cuffs. "Your scent has changed today. It is most enticing." He leaned over her, nuzzling the side of her neck, and inhaled deeply. "Mmm. Delicious."

"Oh! Uh... Okay..." He was cradling her head in his naked hands, lightly brushing a canine against the shell of her ear, tracing around and under it with the tip of his tongue. She shivered, her knees going weak. "Wait," she gasped, trapped in folds of flannel; "Let me get this off. I can't move."

"No? How terribly unfortunate." He stepped back, just far enough to raise the hem of her nightgown back over her head; but stopped when he reached her elbows, quickly and lightly wrapping her forearms and hands in the enveloping cloth. "What about now?"

"Elias! Let me out." She struggled a bit, careful to not try too hard to get free; but the improvised restraint held.

"Mm, no, I don't think I will. Not just yet." He stepped back and studied his handiwork for a moment. His wife was mussed and flushed; she blew a stray lock of hair out of her eyes and rested her bound hands on her head.

"Well? Now what?"

"Oh, nothing just yet; I intend to take my time." He started to undo the knotted cords at the nape of his neck, but paused to grip her hands as she started to lower them. "No—no, I think I would like you to keep them raised, if you please."

Chise raised a brow, but complied, resting them on her head again. "Is this all right?"

"Is it comfortable for you? Not too tight?" He briefly nuzzled her forehead; she nuzzled him back.

"It's fine."

"Then yes, keep them like that until I tell you otherwise, if you would."

"All right."

He stepped back again, raising his own hands to finish removing his veil, watching her closely, aware of how much she enjoyed glimpses of his body beneath his clothes, relishing the spark in her eyes as she ran them over his flexing muscles.

He carefully folded it and put it away in his wardrobe, before leisurely removing his shirt, taking his time, loving the small sounds of appreciation she unconsciously made.

He felt no particular need to hide himself from her eyes, certainly not after a decade together; but he kept his rather formal wardrobe unchanged nevertheless, realizing eventually that she found the anticipation of his body, the small glimpses of his bare skin at throat and wrist, much more enticing than even outright nakedness would be.

Consequently, he was enjoying this small striptease, and his wife's appreciative reaction, very much indeed.

His shirt, veil, and bolo tie removed and dealt with, he reached for his belt buckle, but paused partway through releasing it. "Have you any plans over the next few days?" he asked casually, before removing it just a bit... too... slowly.

"Hm?" She was staring rather fixedly at his groin. "Oh, uh... Not really." She blinked and raised her eyes to his, pupils wide. "I have some marking to do, but..."

"Excellent." He lightly trailed his fingers down his chest and along his waistband, drawing her attention back downwards. "I would like you to keep them free, if you would."

"Yeah, okay," she breathed, distracted again. He noted her increasing flush and the way she was pressing her thighs together with a satisfied smirk. Oh, he had plans for her tonight..!

Her scent was intoxicating; it was like drinking fine wine. The natural sweetness of her skin, the flowery scent of green growing things, the musk of her arousal; it all blended together with another undertone, one not always present, but that he did regularly smell from her. It was like hooks, like clutching fingers seizing his heart and groin and hind-brain, bypassing conscious thought to pull him to her. It seemed to indicate an increase in her physical affections as well, he was beginning to realize. Perhaps it had a similar effect on her? Or was the result of it.

In any case, it didn't particularly matter. Either way, he fully intended to give into it and fully enjoy every inch of his wife.

Leaving his pressed black trousers for the nonce, he lifted her into his arms, careful to not cradle her too close, not just yet, starving them both of that desired contact, as he carried her to the bed, laying her down in the middle of it. She looked up at him, eyes wide, biting her lower lip in anticipation, and he couldn't resist a quick lick to it. Gods, she was beautiful.

She had kept her bound hands above her head as he had requested, laying them upon the pillow. He gently stroked the hair back from her face, knowing how it tickled her, taking a moment to trace the line of her jaw, the curve of her cheek, the small fine hairs of her brow as he rested on his elbow beside her, before grasping the lump of her hands and nightgown and gently placing it over her upper face. "Can you see anything?" He murmured.

"No..."

"You can breathe all right? No discomfort?"

"No, I'm fine," she confirmed, and gasped as he lightly brushed his fingertips over her nipple, the areola crinkling as she firmed at his touch.

"Good." Very very lightly, slowly, he touched her, the way he always wanted to touch her, tracing the curves and contours of her body. Enjoying her. Loving her. The way she'd turn her head to the side and moan softly as he traced her collarbone. The way she'd bite her lip and raise her pelvis slightly, seeking his touch, as he followed the line of her breastbone down to her stomach. The way the slightest of touches to her belly would raise goosebumps on her flesh and make her toes curl. He spent quite some time there, barely touching her skin, just barely skimming the fine hairs between her navel and pelvis, the slight jut of her hips, her curves softer now, more well-fed and developed than when he had first laid eyes upon her as a starving teen, standing barefoot in a too-short shift and chains, alone in a spotlight upon a stage in an auditorium filled with masked strangers, likely mere shadows to her eyes if she could make them out at all.

She must have been terrified; he knew she had been hopeless, filled with despair. But right from the start, from that very first moment, she had raised her eyes to his, looking at him with surprise and wonder and, yes, definitely uncertainty; but without fear. She had not cringed back from him. He had towered over her slight form, strange and inhuman, and she had not cowered from him. He knew immediately, as soon as he saw her, as soon as she met his eyes so fearlessly, that he had to have her. He had to take her away with him. She was important.

He wanted an apprentice and a wife (and oh, how he had misunderstood that word!), someone he could take in and teach—as much to stop the other mages from nagging him about it as anything else; but it was an opportunity to learn more about humans, as well, observing a more-or-less ordinary one close up, and he certainly had fulfilled that objective. The poor naïve bonehead he had been back then had had no idea just how important she would be to him, though. How much she would upend his staid and settled existence, how much she would truly make him alive.

He played a little with the soft auburn hairs there, before running his nails down the underside of her arm and down her side, making her twitch and shriek. He leaned over and traced his path in reverse with the barest tip of his tongue, and her giggles and efforts to twist away from his touch turned to sighs and soft moans and attempts to lift her body to meet him. He kept his distance, though; he was not yet done playing with her. Worshipping her.

Never would he have his fill of her.

He knew she would feel vulnerable like this, exposed, with the underside of her upper arms, with her sides laid bare and defenceless to the world. That it would still evoke a small frisson, akin to fear, in her. It always pleased and humbled him that she would willingly lie like this, would trust him with her vulnerability.

He paused to gently nibble the delicate skin of her inner elbow, careful to not quite tickle, before slowly making his way to her ear, to the pulse point just beneath it, wetting her skin with his tongue, inhaling cold air across it to make her shiver, before biting down almost too hard, and releasing her to breathe warm air over the reddened spot, gently laving his tongue over her again. He spent rather a lot of time doing that, working his way down the side of her neck and along her collarbone to the hollow just above her breastbone, where he lingered a while before continuing up the other side, his fingertips ever so lightly tracing down her sides and along her belly, enjoying the quivers and twitches she gave with every pass.

He loved hearing the sounds she made when he made love to her like this, knowing her soft sighs, her moans and keening cries, her pleas and demands for satisfaction were for him alone. That he was the only one who would ever hear her like this; had ever heard her like this. He ran his knuckles up her stomach and past her ribs to gently trace the curve of one small, perfect breast.

"Please, Elias!" she gasped, rolling to try and meet his hand. Finally obliging her, he palmed her breast more firmly, pinching her nipple and tugging it before leaning over to suckle her. He might not have lips in this form; but he could still create suction between his tongue and the roof of his mouth, and he greatly enjoyed putting the ability to good use on her as she pressed herself desperately to his hip.

He ran his hand back down her side, squeezing her bottom in passing as he did so, to pull her thigh up over his, greatly improving the angle and contact for them both. She was close, he could tell; that she hadn't thought to do so herself would have given her state away if her flushed chest and incoherent cries hadn't already. Extremely pleased with the results of his handiwork, he released her breast from his mouth and pushed her thighs up and away, exposing her inner core as he shifted lower on the bed, coming to rest between them.

He paused a moment to nuzzle her belly, but only for a moment; he wanted to stretch this moment of anticipation out for himself for as long as possible; but he also didn't want her to fall back from her peak. Gods, she smelled good. He couldn't resist pressing his nose to her, deeply inhaling her scent before gently spreading her labia and giving her a long, slow, languorous lick.

She was apparently quite keen on his administrations; she thrust herself almost violently against his muzzle. Chuckling, he carefully pressed the hood of her clitoris back, exposing the tender flesh to his breath and tongue.

Her wild bucking was making it hard to aim properly. He took her in hand, his hands all but engulfing her hips as he held her steady. He could have crushed her; he was easily able to hold her immobile.

Running his tongue along her slit, he finally gave in, sliding his tongue inside her, drinking her, his incisors bumping her clitoris.

He chuckled again as he felt her hands grasp the base of his horns, urging him to greater efforts, happily obliging her.

She came hard, rhythmically clenching around his tongue, fully giving voice to those cries of pleasure that he loved so much.

He slowed slightly, keeping her teetering on the edge, wringing every last spasm from her before she finally went limp beneath him. Giving her a long, last, loving lick, he crawled back up beside her to take her into his arms.

"M'hands came loose," she sleepily explained into his chest.

"Did they now?" Lifting her slightly as he rolled to his side, he pulled the duvet out from beneath them, kicking their legs underneath it before pulling it up and gently tucking it around her. She pushed it back down to her waist.

"Hot," she mumbled.

"Are you indeed?"

"Mmm...Mm hmm."

"Well, I certainly think so." He gave the bridge of her nose a small lick; she grumbled and rubbed it against him. He laughed softly. "Why don't you rest for a bit then and cool down?"

"A'right... G'night..."

"Oh, it will be," he assured her, giving her a squeeze. "I'm not nearly finished with you."

A/N: I'm going to be out of town until the middle of August (2019), so I expect it'll be a while before I get the next chapter up as I'm not expecting to have a chance to do much writing while I'm away. But never fear! There's no way I'm abandoning it. You can check out my fanfic Tumblr at .com for status updates; if I'm unusually delayed I try to say so there. ~Kryss