Chise huffed and grunted as she bent over to tie her boots. She finally straightened, panting. "Sorry," she said wryly, "this is going to take a bit."

She awkwardly tried to reach her laces again; then, when that didn't work, tried to pull her foot onto her lap.

Elias watched her puff and blow for a bit, before crouching at her feet, gently pushing her hands aside, and tugging her laces tight.

"It's like having a ball in my lap," she grumbled with a huff. "I can't fold myself around it; it doesn't want to compress."

"I suppose that's to be expected," Elias said calmly, carefully placing her booted foot down and lifting the other. "Babies bounce, not squish."

"I'm pretty sure you've got that backwards," Chise corrected, with mild alarm. "They don't bounce, and they do squish; promise me you won't try either!"

"No bouncing the baby?" Elias cocked his head, sitting back on his heels. "I understood bouncing one's baby on one's knee to be a traditional paternal bonding activity."

"Well, I suppose a knee would be fine," she allowed, tugging his arm. Elias obligingly stood, and helped her up. "But not the floor!"

"What about squishing them?" He asked, pupils curving in amusement.

"No squishing; no bouncing—"

"—Except on knees," he inserted, ushering her out the door.

"—Except on knees; just, generally… just no. —Give me your arm."

Elias bent a solicitous elbow. "It's not terribly slippery, my love."

"'Not very slippery' to you is still pretty terrifyingly slippery to me right now," she pointed out. "I really don't fancy taking a tumble."

"Definitely not!" agreed Elias, wrapping a firmer arm about her as they headed off down the path.

He slowed his stride to hers, of course; but she was slower than usual, even slower than he thought caution ought to dictate. And her face seemed… strained. He stopped. "Chise? Is something wrong?"

"No, it's nothing."

"Chise…"

"Her feet hurt," Ruth interjected from her shadow. "And her boots are too tight."

"It's nothing! I'm fine."

Elias huffed. "Chise…"

"I'm fine!"

"Chise! Stop it." Elias made to turn them around, but Chise planted her feet.

"I… don't want to go in," she said in a small voice.

"But your feet hurt. And it's slippery."

"But that's no reason to stop!"

"It is."

"Elias—"

"Chise."

"Elias." She ran a distracted hand through her hair, knocking her hat askew. "I like our walks. I like the exercise and the fresh air and just… being with you." She sighed. "Yes, my feet hurt, and my back; but it's not that bad. I can still handle it. And I don't know how much longer that'll be true for." She took his hands, and looked up at him earnestly. "So right now, while I still can, I want to keep going on our walks. Even if it means my feet hurt a bit."

Ruth gave a muttered grumble from her shadow. Elias cocked his head.

"It would seem that you hurt more than 'a bit'."

Chise squeezed his hands. "Believe me, I've had worse." She smiled wryly.

"I know. I was there." He huffed, and was silent for a long moment. "All right," he said, finally; "What if we go for a slow, brief walk, until you get tired or too uncomfortable—which you will inform me of immediately—at which point I will carry you home."

"All right."

"And we will get you some new footwear."

"Okay."

"And when we get home I will rub your feet. And back."

"Yes, dear." Chise tucked her hand back through the crook of his arm, and they turned to continue their walk.

"And if your feet hurt," he added softly, "You will let me know before we leave home."

Chise sighed. "Assume that if I'm standing, my feet hurt," she muttered.

"Chise…"

"Look, it's normal. As I get closer to term, my body will produce the hormone relaxin, which will allow my pelvis to expand to pass the baby more easily." She sounded like she was quoting something. "However, this targets all my joints, allowing the joints in my feet to relax as well, most noticeably resulting in them spreading, and my arches collapsing. They ought to go back to normal after the birth, though," she added.

"We hope," Ruth muttered darkly.

Chise was beginning to get drowsy, curled up on Elias's lap as he read to her, hearing Ruth's faint snores over the snap and crackle of the fire, when the oddest sensation made her sit up a bit and take notice.

"Chise?" Elias paused, inserting a finger into the book to mark their page, and tilted his head to more easily look at her. "Is something wrong?"

"No, shush, hang on," she said, distracted, as she focused on her abdomen, concentrating on listening to her body. She sat silent for a long moment, then—"There!" She looked up at Elias, giddy with excitement as she rubbed her belly. "I felt it! The baby moved!"

Elias's eyes flared brighter as his jaw parted, and he quickly put the book down to strip off his glove, placeholders forgotten. "Let me see!"

She slid his bare hand over a little bit, and held it in place with her own, as they both waited with bated breath. "There! Did you feel it?"

"No…" They sat still again.

"Ooh!" Chise giggled a bit. "It feels so strange. Try over here!"

Elias dutifully shifted his hand and waited in silence.

"Still nothing."

"Oh." Chise deflated a bit. "I suppose the books did say that I'd feel it before you could…"

"What does it feel like?"

Chise sat for a moment in thought, trying to find the words. "Sort of… sort of a very tiny fluttery feeling," she said finally. "A bit like a tiny bird just barely brushing me with its wings. Or maybe a butterfly." She sighed. "I wish you could feel it."

"I will be able to, eventually." Elias was silent for a long moment. "Can you still feel it? Is it still moving?"

Chise canted her own head, listening to her body once more. "I'm not sure…" She patted her belly. "Oop! There we go!" she grinned.

"There is something that I'd like to try," Elias said. He dissolved into shadow, dropping her from his lap to the cushion with a bit of a bump.

"Elias! A little warning next time, please!"

"Sorry," Elias said, eyes glowing red from his shadow on the floor. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," She confirmed. "But you scared me!"

"I'm sorry. But I wanted to try…" A shadowy tendril crept up her leg, and wound its way about her abdomen. "Do you mind?"

Chise felt his presence nudging slightly at the back of her mind. "Go ahead," she said, her anticipation rising. If he could take over her nervous system to speak to others, could he also use it to feel..?

They sat like that, motionless, waiting.

A flutter.

Elias leapt back in surprise, landing sprawled upon the rug and jostling Ruth awake. "I felt it!" he breathed, his eyes meeting hers in wonder as she grinned crazily. "I could feel it!"

"Feel what?" Ruth grumbled, putting his head back down. Suddenly he sprang to his feet, eyes wide with shock. "What the heck was that?! "

"Merry Christmas, Chise," Elias softly murmured, tousling her hair with a loving nuzzle. "Breakfast is ready. Sleep well?"

Chise moaned a sleepy protest from the warm depths of the bed as Ruth, curled snugly against her back, blearily raised his head. "Breakfast?" He sniffed the air. "Mmm, sausages!" He hopped down, stretching and giving himself a shake. "Come on, Chise! I'm starving!" He happily trotted out of the room.

"Guh, all right…" Chise managed to get an elbow propped beneath her, and to more or less lever herself onto her hands and knees, before pushing herself back into a sitting position. "I can barely bend forward anymore," she complained, scrubbing at her face, and pushing her hair back. "What's going to happen when I'm really fat?"

"You aren't fat now," Elias said mildly. "You're pregnant."

"I'm fat. I'm fat and gross. And I smell weird."

"Your belly swells with my child." Elias sounded extremely self-satisfied, Chise thought. "And your scent announces that, and compels my attention. My protection." He stepped back, hands still behind his back, as she threw back the covers and swung her legs over the side.

"I don't think I like my body announcing to everyone that I'm pregnant," she grumbled. "'Hey, look! Over here! It's a slow, fat, pregnant sleigh beggy! Come eat me!'" She paused, looking up at him. "Is that why I'm attracting even more attention from the neighbours than usual?"

Elias nodded. "I believe so. Magically speaking, your scent has always been attractive. But now it's all but irresistible." He leaned over to nuzzle her again. "Mind you, I have always found it so."

She nuzzled him back, caressing his jaw, and murmuring, "You've always smelled wonderful to me, too." She shifted closer to the edge of the bed and smiled up at him as he pulled back. "Help me up?"

"Not quite yet," he smiled. Finally bringing his hands forth, he held out a small, wrapped box to her. "Merry Christmas, my love."

Curious, Chise unwrapped and opened it, and gasped softly. Inside was a figurine of a delicate, densely-interwoven rose bush, each tiny leaf and petal exquisitely rendered in painted porcelain. Carefully, she lifted it out, only to see a large hollow in the side. Within, a russet little English robin sat plump and calm upon her nest, entwining branches curled protectively about her home. The whole thing was no taller than her thumb. She cradled it in her cupped hands, examining it in wonder.

Elias knelt in front of her, cradling her hands in his in turn. "It's from the Eighteenth Century," he said, a bit shyly. "I found it in an antique shop in London, and couldn't resist. It… reminded me of you. Of us."

"Elias, it's beautiful!" she breathed, her eyes, meeting his, glowing with joy. "I love it! It's perfect!" She kissed his muzzle, and snuggled as close to him as she could over their hands and her growing belly, giving a sigh of pure contentment. "It's perfect."

"Merry Christmas, my love."

"Merry Christmas."

"No! "

Elias jolted awake at the sound of his wife's anguished cry, half expecting the worst as he blearily took her in, sitting hunched over beside him, clutching her Teddy bear to her chest and sobbing as though her heart would break.

He was suddenly too terrified to speak, to ask what was the matter. Too terrified that he already knew the answer.

Ruth jumped up from his usual position at the foot of the bed, shifting to his human form on the fly. "Chise?" He sat beside her on the edge of the bed, putting a consoling arm around her. "What's wrong?"

She was crying too hard to speak, and only leaned into his embrace, sobbing harder.

Above her head, the Grim met the magus' eyes, and gave a brief, reassuring shake of his head.

Elias thought for a moment he might black out from sheer relief.

"Chise," he rumbled, stroking a gentle hand down her back, "Are you hurt?"

She shook her head, and managed to hiccough out, "It's— not— me, it's— it's—" She sat up, and held out her Teddy. "It's his eye!" she wailed.

Sure enough, one round black button had pulled loose, and was dangling by a single thread.

"It—it got caught," she managed to choke out, "and I tried to pull it loose, and it—and it just came off!" She trailed off with a despairing cry.

Elias was confused. "I can fix that," he pointed out. Ruth shot him a look.

"Nooo! Luh—look, the fuh-fabric ripped! He's ruined!"

Elias looked closer, and poked at the imprint the button had left in the plush fur. One or two of the weft threads may have broken, but it was hardly damaged beyond repair. Still… "I can darn it first, if you would like. The button will hide it. But I can still fix it."

But Chise only clutched the bear to her again, muffling her heartbroken sobs into its head.

He really could not understand why she was so devastated, but his bride was hurting, and that made his heart ache to comfort her, to make it all better. He pulled her into a hug, gently nuzzling her.

"Chise, it's all right," he soothed. "I know how much this upset you. But it was an accident, and it's not as bad as it looks. I promise you, I can repair it. It will look the same."

He rocked her, and stroked her hair and back, until she finally managed to calm down enough to say, "I know you can probably fix it. But it won't be the same! He—he was the first present you ever gave me—"

Elias opened his mouth to correct her, but meeting Ruth's flat stare wisely thought the better of it.

"—and my first Christmas present, and you made him just for me, and—and—"

"Chise…"

"I'm going to be a bad mother!" She wailed.

"No, no, my darling, my love, you aren't; you aren't!" Elias lifted her onto his lap and pulled her tightly to him, his own heart breaking slightly at her anguish. However minor he might think its cause, it was apparent that her pain was very real.

Which was why, good husband that he tried to be, he found himself squinting at a needle and thread at five o'clock in the morning, repairing his erstwhile gift to his wife, while her big brother cuddled and soothed her.

No one so upset at causing such a minor injury, especially accidentally, could ever be anything less than a caring mother!

They did try prenatal classes, they really did. All the new baby books suggested them, and Chise took things pretty much as read that, as first-time parents, the extra, hands-on information would be of use to them. And Shannon, in her biweekly check-ups, confirmed that.

"The breathing techniques can help, apparently," she added; "—although I suspect it's as much a matter of distracting the mother by giving her something else to focus on and ground her, and to help the father to feel like he's more actively involved in the birthing process, as any kind of actual pain control."

"So they are a kind of meditation technique?" Elias asked, as she palpated Chise's stomach, feeling the size and position of the baby.

"More or less," the doctor confirmed, pulling out a measuring tape. "Besides, they'll give you some good tips on breastfeeding techniques and things."

"Can't you do that?"

"I'm more of a surgeon than an obstetrician," Shannon said, measuring down the front of Chise's belly. "And I don't have any breastfeeding experience personally. It is something that both mother and baby need to learn to do, so it's probably a good idea to at least get some tips on it." She gave Elias a stern look. "And you—make sure you go along with her! The classes are for both parents, not just the mother."

Elias was more dismissive of the idea of the classes, but gamely donned his glamour to go along. If his wife was determined to attend the foolish things, then, no, he certainly wasn't going to let her go by herself.

"...And so that's why we say—What do we say, Mummies and Daddies?"

"'Breast is best!'" the rest of the class cheerfully chorused. Chise raised her hand.

"Yes?" The perky blonde instructor looked her way. "...'Cheesy', was it?"

"'Chise'. It's Japanese. Um…. I've heard that some women can have difficulties making enough milk, or getting the baby to latch on—"

"Yes, that can happen. Just remember to drink lots and lots of liquids, relax, and practise the techniques we're learning today."

"All right, but…"

"Yes?"

"Well, if that doesn't work, or if the baby isn't getting enough milk, what would be the best kind of formula—"

To a one, the class gasped. "No, no, you can't use formula ," one of the mothers hissed, looking horrified. "It doesn't have any of the antibodies—"

"Now, Chlöe," the instructor, whose name Elias still couldn't remember, hastily cut in. "You're quite correct. We do say 'Breast is best' for a reason, dear. It's true that formulas have gotten a lot better than they used to be; but still, human breastmilk is an incredibly complicated liquid, and is perfectly formulated by your own body to perfectly meet your baby's needs." She stopped with a slightly satisfied look.

Much to Elias's inner pride, and his own slightly malicious satisfaction, his bride refused to back down. "I agree," she said firmly, "And of course we'll try our very best to breastfeed exclusively. We've already got a breast pump at home and everything. But, should even that fail, is there one type of formula that is better than the others? Or a type we should particularly avoid?"

The instructor sighed slightly, and had just opened her mouth to reply when another mother-to-be cut in. "Oh, don't worry; you'll be fine!" she cheerfully assured them. "It's just a matter of practise, and relaxing. If your milk isn't letting down, you just have to not get stressed out, and try to relax more. Have a nice cup of chamomile tea."

It was Elias's turn to look concerned. "Chamomile tea isn't always safe for babies," he said, the hazel eyes of his glamour widening. "Nor for pregnant women."

"No, it's fine; it's herbal," the mum responded.

"So is tobacco," he retorted.

"Well, that's different!" she argued. "You don't smoke the chamomile!"

"So tobacco would be safe in a tea? Hmm."

"Please, please, mums and dads!" The instructor held up her hands in a placating gesture, and shot Elias a Look. "Moving on! Now, nappies. Has anyone here ever put a nappy on a baby before?"

Chise raised her hand. The instructor sighed, this time more heavily. "Yes? "

"I… have?"

In the end, they decided it really would be best for all concerned if they didn't go to a second one.

"Elias?"

Elias slowly roused himself, finding Chise wide awake beside him, staring blankly at the ceiling in the dark. "Mm? Chise? What is it?"

She groped for his hand and held it tightly, but didn't look at him. "Elias… Will you promise me something?"

"Promise you what?"

"Promise me—promise me that if something goes wrong," she whispered, "Promise me that you'll save the baby."

Elias gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, and nuzzled her lovingly. "Chise, you know I would do everything in my power for you both. You have no need to worry."

She squeezed his hand back, but shifted fretfully. "No, I mean...I mean, if it comes down to one of us or the other, if you—if you have to choose?" She looked up at him, eyes wide and desperate. "If you have to choose between who to save, save our baby."

"Chise—"

"Please."

"Chise." He sat up, rubbed at his face, and gathered her into his arms. "Chise. My love. I don't want to ever have to make that choice." He paused for a moment, searching his heart—then realized that he didn't have to. "But—I can't make you that promise."

She sat upright, distressed. "No, Elias, you have to! I don't matter! You need to—"

"No."

"But Elias—"

"No. I won't lose you, Chise. I can't. If it comes down to a choice between the two of you, I will choose you."

"But—"

"No. We can have another child, if something goes wrong. We can try again. Or we can adopt. But I cannot simply find another Chise." His intent gaze held hers, willing her to understand, to accept. "You are special, and unique, and irreplaceable. You know that. You know what I would sacrifice to keep you alive."

"But even your own child?"

"If the choice comes down to our child, unborn, unknown, that might not even survive outside of your body, and my wife of fifteen years, yes. —I would hope that it would never come to that, that we would never have to choose between one life and another. And if something does go wrong, I will do everything in my power to keep you both safe.

"But, should the worst come to the worst, and the choice lies between saving you or the child, I will choose you. I will always choose you. There will be no point in arguing with me about it, do you understand? I will try and save you both. But I will always choose you."

"Then… Just promise me you will do everything you can to save the baby as well?"

"Oh, Chise," he breathed, pulling her back into his arms and holding her as tightly as he dared, "Of course! I promise. Never doubt that."

It was the pressure on her bladder that woke her up, again, barely an hour after she'd come back to bed, she confirmed in irritation, glancing at the glowing hands of the clock. She sighed in heavy frustration, and started her well-practised routine of rolling over and hoisting her heavily-pregnant body over and up.

Elias, who seemed to be growing used to her regular thrashings-about, placed a large hand against her lower back and gave her a slight, helpful shove, lending her the impetus to roll up into a sitting position on the side of the bed.

"Thanks," she whispered, not quite positive he was actually awake. Glancing back, she saw his eyes were still dim. Must be nice, she thought, struggling to lever herself to her feet.

Wrapping herself in her dressing gown, she blearily made her way to the stairs, navigating them carefully in the dimness, clinging to the railing. Silky appeared at the bottom, as usual, reaching up to lend a supportive hand on her elbow as she descended the last few steps.

The Brownie raised an inquisitive eyebrow, and Chise shook her head. "Jus' gotta pee again," she mumbled, and headed for the bathroom. The Brownie sighed, and waited by the foot of the stairs to help her mistress back up them.

When the baby came, she'd be ready!

A/N: Teddy troubles loosely based on real life. Pregnancy hormones are a hell of a thing and I do not miss them. It was like having six years of teenage hormones compressed into nine months! D: Absolutely crazy-making.