Hey everyone. It's been a while. I'm certain most of you thought I would never get back to this. At points, I didn't believe I would. It would have been so easy to let the stories be forgotten. And then an author of a story I had long since lost hope in ever getting another chapter posted a note about how they were going to seriously revamp it and I was so excited. Then I realized I had readers who would feel the same. So I got off my pity wagon and wrote this for you guys.

Having done all he could to help, Neal hefted the unconscious Lady Knight while the dock workers set to cleaning. Typically, he would have remained to help, but Kel's wellbeing took priority. He situated Kel on her bed, gently stripping off her armor. He grabbed a small basin, a cloth, and a bar of soap to clean the blood before it crusted.

Once done, he cleaned and put away her armor before finally turning his attentions to himself. He wanted as few things as possible for her to worry about when she came to.

It also allowed him to work through his feelings.

Letting Kel fight in her condition was giving him heart palpitations. Neal fervently wished she was far enough along that he could exert his authority and force her to not leap to arm herself. Maybe now she would actually listen to him, instead of treating his advice as suggestions.

She may not have felt it, but she was putting undue stress on her body because it was devoting such much of its energy to the life growing inside her womb. It would crush her to accidentally cause a miscarriage of the kingdom's heir.

He prepared two bowls of rice, one honeyed, and sliced an orange and an apricot. The two fruits were packed with vitamins and would help her body absorb iron. True to pattern, Kel blindly accepted the bucket he held to her, her first instinct upon awakening to vomit.

Neal rubbed circles into the base of her neck. "How are you feeling?" he asked, pressing the bowl of fruits into her hand first.

Kel sucked on an orange slice. The citric flavor was bright and chased away the disgusting taste of bile. "Exhausted," she answered honestly. "And," she added, rubbing at her breast, "painfully tender. My breastband is scratchy."

The healer gently massaged them, repeating a mantra that the action wasn't intimate if he was doing it to make her comfortable.

"You shouldn't have fought that raid," he said sternly, to distract himself while he continued his ministrations. Neal needed to think about something other than how soft the flesh beneath his fingers was or how, when they began to swell with milk, they'd be the perfect size for his hand to cup.

Brown eyes flashed furiously.

"They needed help."

He scoffed. "It was a dock. They had the strength and numbers to match those pirates."

"I wasn't going to stand by and do nothing while innocent people were attacked."

"They didn't need a pregnant woman's help!"

Kel blinked wetly. "So I'm already a horrible mother, is that what you're saying?"

"What? No. You would be a wonderful mother Kel. But please, you need to take better care of yourself. It's very easy to lose a babe in the first trimester. All this excitement isn't healthy for you or your child."

It was foolish of him to allow her to fight. Neal should have insisted she stay behind, but he had been caught up in the feeling of truly fighting side by side with his best friend again. Better to fight over physical limitations beforehand than to feel his heart stop beating in his chest because she was injured again.

She latched onto the bowl of rice. "I didn't know you could cook."

Neal's gaze narrowed, recognizing the change of topic, poorly done as it was, as her method of putting the conversation behind her. He let it slide for now, planning to revisit once she felt more in control of her emotions.

"The locals brought it as a thank you." Kel smiled weakly at the joke.

"Is my baby okay?"

Neal prodded at the still firm planes of her abdomen before calling upon his gift. When Kel asked why he didn't simply use his Gift, he glibly responded that the two examinations supported the other. It was generally good practice to not only rely on his Gift. Especially, as she was kind enough to point out, when he had a tendency to overuse it.

Which was true. He conveniently didn't tell her that he never got this touchy with others he had healed, particularly their page mates.

"Take it easy, today. I'll get you some more fruit," he said.

Kel's protest was cut off by her own yawn.

LINE

Neal was gone before she woke the next day, leaving behind a quickly scrawled note that he was going to inquire about work at the local clinic.

Being amongst the largest port cities in Tortall, Blue Harbor saw a lot of traffic. The coming and goings of ships and their crews and foreign cargos often resulted in minor sicknesses. His Gift would be a blessing.

She opted to explore the marketplace. She was still earning her wages as a knight of the realm, and if they were going to live here for the next eight months, she wanted the house to feel more like a home. And she needed to stock the pantry, as her growling stomach reminded her.

The market stalls were an explosion of color and foreign wares. People clamoring loudly with distinct accents. She steered clear of a potions booth, where the proprietor was shouting about his miraculous weightloss potion. The man had tried to call out specifically to her, but Kel gave him no acknowledgement. She needed to put on weight, not lose it. Besides, she had never felt badly about her image. Her physique was a result of all her hard work, and she wouldn't be made to feel like she was ugly because she didn't look like the ladies at court.

She paused by a booth displaying ear bobs. There was a pair similar to the ones she had worn once. Neal had complimented them. Ultimately, she decided against them. Not even pieces of frippery would make her feel beautiful when the babe in her belly caused it to balloon.

Kel was slammed by a wave of nostalgia and homesickness when she found a bottle of Mindelan's specialty wine. It had been years since she returned to the barony. Her mother and father would be delighted to see her. They'd be overjoyed to know their youngest daughter was finally having a child of her own.

Tears stung her eyes. All of her sisters had been surrounded and supported by their family. She might have never pictured herself having children, but now that she was, Kel wished she could draw comfort from her family.

But she couldn't do that to them. Already, they would feel the backlash of her shame should the truth ever get out. Wishing for their comfort was selfish when it would paint the Mindelans as knowing of her treason.

Kel left the market empty-handed and feeling hollow.

She had never imagined she'd be a mother. She was excellent with her numerous nieces and nephews, but the life of a noble woman wasn't for her. Kel wanted her shield. Training came first. Her hair she had cut short because it was in the way. She pushed her body to physically keep up with the boys. By the time she had her shield, the only boys that would look at her were the ones she had spent ten months of a year training with. Her page mates were more like brothers or cousins by that point, not prospective husband material.

She would be the first to admit she wasn't a classic beauty like her sisters or the court ladies. She was butch and blocky, muscles giving her a very square shape as opposed to the gentle curves and willow bodies of most ladies. Any color on her face was due to bruise not face paints. Then there was the matter of her scars. The ones on her fingers from caring for a baby griffin in her squire years were glaring. Every time she held out a hand, there was a noticeable pause as eyes lingered and the deep scars.

Her appearance was probably the true reason Roald was never seen with her. Kings were practically expected to have mistresses. Marrying for love wasn't the done thing amongst the nobility. Wealth, prestige, connections. If not for her bleeding heart, Kel could have maintained her secret relationship with Roald.

But surely she deserved better than a man who never invited her to dance at a public function?

Kel felt guilty for the thought. He had kissed her first, not caring that she had just come off the practice fields. It had nothing to do with looks. Roald wasn't shallow. It was all politics. It was silly of her to be caring about how she looked now. Feeling beautiful wasn't something any of her sisters had associated with pregnancy.

She was surprised to find Neal when she returned. Had she been gone that long?

"Everything alright? You're looking a little pale."

Ashamed of her weakness, Kel brushed off his concern. "There were too many smells."

He didn't look convinced but he didn't argue. "I'll bring you a cup of lemon honey tea. I meant a lady today that swears it eased her sickness."

Kel's face gave away nothing, but Neal knew she hid behind her Yamani mask only when her emotions got the better of her. Demanding an explanation would do no good, however. His friend would shut up as tight as a door.

She retreated to her room, door closing behind her with a sharp click. Neal sighed, wondering what could have possibly upset her, as he started the tea. After six and a half minutes he poured it into cups, stirring a spoonful of honey into Kel's cup. He set the cups on a tray and adds a simple fair of rice and strips of salted meat. Nothing too strong for her stomach.

He knocked softly on the door to announce his entrance. She was already in the dream god's realm.

Neal placed the tray at her bedside, shuddering at the thought of drinking cold tea. He would have preferred she ate first, but he wasn't going to wake her. Rest was just as important as eating and Kel never got enough of the former. The food would be there when she awoke.

Staring down at her, face tense even in sleep, Neal felt despondent. Despite the circumstances of their arrival, he had hoped the change of scenery would see her health improve. Her mood had certainly uplifted, until the incident at the docks yesterday evening. But aside from slightly rose cheeks from the bracing salt air, Kel's condition remained unchanged. She still had to fight to keep food down and was sick with alarming frequency.

It was a vicious cycle, one he felt helpless to resolve. Kel forced herself to eat when he presented her with a plate of food, knowing she'd inevitably lose it, and then need to eat even more to make up for it.

He really hoped this tea did the trick. It would put both their minds at ease if she could eat easier.

Kel woke and was halfway towards the bucket set aside for this exact purpose when she realized she didn't feel the telltale burn in her throat that indicated her previous meal was going to make a second appearance.

Her elation is short lived.

She spotted the dry meat left for her and dry retches. It's hard for anything to come up when she hasn't eaten. There's a cup of tea as well. It's no doubt cold by now, but Kel was unbothered. Food was food. The tea soothed her throat.

She wasn't going to complain about its being cold when she was the one who fell asleep. Neal was being so thoughtful, trying so hard to find something she could keep down for longer than a few hours. It would be callous of her to complain.

The rice and jerky weren't as refreshing as her drink. She wanted the saltiness of the meat without the tough and chewy texture. So she ventured into the kitchen, searching through the cupboards to find salt.

No doubt hearing her movements, Neal joined her. "What are you doing?" he asked after several more cupboards proved not to have what she was looking for.

"The rice needs salt."

"Why didn't you just crumble the jerky into it."

"Because I don't want the jerky. I want salted rice."

Neal appeared bemused. She huffed at him. Here she was, actively wanting to eat something, and instead of helping her he watched with that stupidly handsome crooked grin.

"Fish sauce," she announced, triumphantly. "I need fish sauce. We must have some. This is a port town, after all."

Neal didn't bother to hide his overly theatrical grimace as he locates the aforementioned item. Kel ignored it in favor of pouring half the bottle atop her rice and settling in happily to eat it.

His disgust isn't faked any longer. "How can you eat that?"

Kel shrugged. "I just wanted it."

"Wonderful, your first craving. I fear for my delicate taste buds if rice drowned in fish sauce is your idea of good taste."

Kel paused. "Isn't it too soon to be experiencing cravings? I'm hardly over a month."

"Every woman's different. I'm just glad your body actually wants something. Hopefully, this means you're passed the severe sickness and will be able to eat more regularly. But," she looked up when he draws out the word, "may I suggest pickle juice next time?"

Kel laughed, pleased at the return of Neal's strange sense of optimism. She had a feeling she was going to need it in the future.