Akiva had been adamant that she would do as much as she could on her own.  Throughout her entire pregnancy, she had never had that much trouble so to speak, but now… at what she was sure was the end of it, it was much harder to do.  Getting up was an exhausting chore and she was still not completely used to the amount of space she needed to navigate things.  Not to mention the sleeping predicament. 

Over the last couple of weeks, it was getting to be a chore.  Everything was falling into place and at her last appointment the healer had said it could happen at anytime.  The baby had moved down, apparently getting in position to be born, which meant Akiva looked like a penguin for the most part and she would have felt like one if she wasn’t so warm all of the time.  Did penguins get back aches?  That might have been a difference too…

As a result, nights weren’t exactly restful and it wasn’t a surprise that she was dozing on the couch.  Being momentarily comfortable enough (and not having to pee) to catch a few moments of rest was a blessing.  Gordon curled against her side, his tail thumping rhythmically on the side of  her belly, she was only half aware of it.  It was a small blessing that Akiva was far too round for the cat’s claim on her lap or she would have been all too aware of Gordon’s presence… and most likely not napping. 

Her nap was short lived however and her eyes shot open as a pain literally took her breath away.  It wasn’t like she hadn’t had some contractions, but she didn’t usually wake up from them and she rested her hands on stomach, frowning lightly.  “No napping, huh?” Akiva asked the bump that hated sleep before she tried to pull herself up, not once… not twice… but three times before she was resigned.  “Dree,” she called out pitifully, “I’m stuck.”

Though he was not taking entire days off just yet, Dreogan had managed to negotiate his way into working from home part-days until the baby arrived.  It could be any day, after all, and Dree was not going to miss a thing.  And being head of a division in the DIMC had its perks. For starters, when human resources was less-than-clear about whether paternity leave could be taken before the birth... as head, he'd had some clout.  Akiva had joked that these days, she almost always got her way in public because few things rivaled the vigor of a pregnant woman, but Dree felt fairly confident that an anxious and overly-protective spouse and father could be nearly as persuasive, when put to it.

Just imagine the things they could do together, the things they could accomplish... The sheer force of will and fear and excitement and sleep deprivation and--

"Dreeee," came a plaintive cry from downstairs, "I'm stuck."  Dree was tearing down the stairs and at the foot of the couch in an instant.

Well, maybe they'd start small.  Like getting up off the couch.  They could graduate to giving life to a small human, and then move on to other things like... taking over a country, world domination, or something.  He clasped her forearm, preparing to hoist. "Right," he said, doing his best to resist a smile. She was uncomfortable, he could tell. No--her features shifted quickly into a grimace and Dree felt his throat tighten.  His brows knit in concern.  "Kiva--is everything alright?"

Akiva’s smile was apologetic as Dree descended the staircase.  She felt very lucky that he would drop whatever he was doing to come down and help her do something as silly as get up off the chair.  If she had been home alone she would have had to be more creative about it, but Dreogan’s insistance on taking time to work at home was such a blessing. 

Reaching out for him, she breathed a sigh of relief as he grabbed her forearm, “Thank you.”  Her warm smile dissipated slightly as she thought she would help him pull her up, but instead there it was again – another one.  Her features scrunched as the cramping sensation persisted for a long moment.  That was a nasty one.  When Kiva finally relaxed again she readjusted her hand on his arm from a position of one needing to grip something to one that would actually help her get up. She used her other hand to push up against the cushions and with a final heave (and Gordon jumping away), she was up. 

“It’s fine,” Akiva assured him, letting her hand slide down to entwine her fingers with his. “I think it’s more Braxton Hicks,” she explained once she was finally steady on her feet.  “Bump,” the nickname she had decided on for the little Eleor in lieu of an actual name at present, “is being a pest today.  Won’t let mum nap at all.  Guess I should get used to it, eh?” she shrugged with a little laugh. 

Pausing for a moment, Akiva added, “I hope I didn’t tear you away from anything important.” 

"Braxton Hicks?" Dreogan echoed, frowning.  "Isn't it a little late in the..." This was first and second trimester business! It was far too late. Far too-- "-this late?"  He looked down at her stomach, his smile abating just enough to eke out a little smile.  "Even for bump."

Gordon fled--from the sounds of it, directly to his bowl in the kitchen to beg for some food, capitalizing on the movement of The Humans.  Yowl, yowl, yowl.  There was a reason Adon had started calling their house "The Farm."  If they had jealousy issues now, just wait until the little one arrived.

"I hope I didn't tear you away from anything important."

"No! Nothing important..." he said absently, leaning in and laying a kiss lightly.  "That's why I'm home. Now," he said, taking her hands and trying to ignore the continuing cries of Gordon-in-Distress, "what was it you were getting up for? Are you sure you're alright? We could call Healer Morten..."

Kiv shrugged, she didn’t really know how to explain it, but the very idea that it could be anything other than practice contractions seemed ridiculous.  There was just a point where she had gotten used to being pregnant and the idea that it would be over was a welcome one but hadn’t seemed likely in quite a while.  The only completely dependent thing they’d have to worry about for a while still (or at least she thought) was Gordon. 

Pesky creature was begging again.  Akiva would not be giving into that nonsense.  Gordon was not a baby, no matter how much he thought he might be. 

Besides, kissing her husband was a much better task than feeding the cat.  Not that she could bend down to even get his food bowl anyway.  She’d more than likely tip over in the attempt.  It had become a husband task, particularly when she forgot where she put her wand… His question though, had nothing to do with Gordon.  “Toilet,” she responded honestly.  A much less pregnant Akiva might have been embarrassed to bring it up, but they were far beyond that point now.  “Nothing to worry about,” she added with a laugh.  “You’re going to drive that woman mad, Dree,” she teased craning her neck to give him another brief kiss. 

Mid-kiss, Akiva pulled back and blinked.  She knew she had to use the bathroom… but… looking down didn’t help her, she couldn’t see anything.  But, she could feel and wet!  And the sensation of needing to use the bathroom was not gone.  Eyes widened, Akiva looked back up at Dree’s face.  She could only think to say one thing: “I did not just go to the bathroom on myself.”

"Oh, I'm not that bad," Dreogan defended with a light roll of his eyes.  She was teasing him.

...Right? She was teasing.  Merlin, he wasn't actually that bad, was he?  Healer Morten had said she was on-call in the days approaching the delivery date, to report anything unusual, to not be afraid of reaching out....

Akiva was leaning in and kissing him now, though, so he reasoned that she must have been teasing.  But then Akiva pulled back.  Dreogan instinctively recoiled, a nervous cringe.  She had been in pain; he had been insensitive to that...  Putting a hand on the small of her back in a way he hoped would be reassuring... "I did not just go to the bathroom on myself."  He blinked.  Those were not the words he had been expecting. 

"No, you didn't?"  Dreogan, of course, had meant to say that in a reassuring way--a No-Of-Course-You-Didn't sort of way--but the surprise had overridden his voice... and facial expression.  "I mean, I know!..." A shaky inhalation followed by a breathy exhale. "Was that your water? Did it just break? Did your water just break?"   he said, hands steading her arms, as though she needed support.

He needed support.

They had had a hospital bag packed for days. They'd finished Bump's nursery weeks ago.  They'd had the baby shower... everything was ready, and this was right on schedule.  Then why in Merlin's name was this so shocking?!

Akiva had prepared for this for months.  If there was a book about it, she had read it.  If there was something they should have done, Akiva had made sure she did it already.  The only thing left was having the baby… and it was like everything left her head. “I… I’m not sure!” Akiva answered honestly, blinking in the moment of stillness.  She could do this.  She could absolutely do this. 

As much as she teased Dreogan over his every little owl, there’d been times where Kiv required a pep talk from their healer too.  Right now it didn’t seem like such a bad idea.  But, it couldn’t be that.  No, no.  Shaking her head, Akiva gave his arm a gentle squeeze back, “I’m sure it was --”

Her expression shifted again as something that could only be described as unholy seemed to grip onto her lower back and squeeze
.  The surprise of the whole thing seemed to take her breath away and that comforting, gentle squeeze turned into quite the vice grip.  When she finally released her breath again, Akiva looked up into Dree’s face.  “Maybe we should owl her...,” she admittedly sheepishly, ducking her head a little. 

Akiva frowned, pursing her lips.  “I mean, help me upstairs first,” Akiva added apologetically, “then you can owl her.”  Akiva surmised she would need to change and get her things situated.  Or were they already situated?  Akiva couldn’t remember. “If you don’t mind, that is.”  It seemed like a silly thing to say, of course he wouldn't mind, but Akiva was still trying to play it cool.  Obviously this wasn't anything major... just some extra practice for the big day, right? 

Oh, G-d! She was sure it was?!  He searched her face anxiously, barely noticing the grip on his arm.  Dreogan felt the blood rush to his head.  Okay. O-kaaay.

"We'll do better than owl," Dree said, nodding with determination.  He could keep a level head.  He could do this.  Akiva was counting on him. As was the baby. 

"I mean, help me upstairs first."

"What?!" Dreogan gasped, audibly. "No. No--you..." he looked about the room desperately a moment before deciding upon one of their dining room chairs.  Slowly, delicately, he released her grip on his arm, taking two slow, retreating steps before, well, bolting.  He all but hefted the chair across the room, setting it down right before her. It had arms to grip as hard as she'd like, it had a supportive back, and it wouldn't sink too much, so she could get out of it more easily...

"I'm getting The Bag," he said with weight, and, before she could voice an argument, began to take the steps two at a time, fingers skimming lightly over the rail to make sure there'd be no mishaps.  There was a frantic scramble in the bedroom as Dreogan fumbled over every object on the bedside table, on their sink countertop, and finally turned down the bed, sending still-dormant house pets flying before, finally, Dreogan found his keys.  Tossing the bag over one shoulder, Dreogan took the steps once more two at a time.  Tabitha and Gordon already in the lead.  Dreogan heard the clattering of Lady's claws drawing close until, too late, he realized the spaniel was underfoot.

A startled yelp from both dog and owner, and with a loud crack! Dreogan's falling form landed abruptly--and intentionally on the sofa, for a vastly preferable landing.

Running his hand through his curls, he gave a shaky laugh before rolling off the sofa and looking at Akiva.

The Bag.  Shoot--where was The Bag?  Dreogan saw it, two stairs from the bottom.  "Let's just, erm..." he tried to think.  "Do you think floo's best?" They'd talked about taxis--but this far along...

Akiva shouldn’t have been surprised when Dreogan made sure she wasn’t going upstairs.  She would have fought back, but experience told her it was futile to try and truth be told, she was a bit nervous.  It was honestly a little bit of a relief to have him insist she sit down instead.  Even if it did possibly mean having to scourgify the chair when they got back from the hospital.  She allowed him to help her down into it and Akiva let out a deep, shaky breath. 

This was real. 

It was happening.  She was sure she’d be calm and collected for the whole thing, but the anxiety in her chest was not indicative of that.  Her eyes followed Dreogan as he bolted up the stairs.  The sounds of footsteps, claws against wood floor, and their things probably being rummaged through was enough to prove that Dreogan was rushing.  “Be careful!” she nervously called out, hoping he wouldn’t fall or hurt himself.  Sitting forward a bit in the chair – one, trying to see, and two, back pain.  IT was not fast enough because before she could even call out, “Lady!” she was bolting and Dreogan was in her path…

She put her hands over her face, anticipating a crash.  Her eyes slammed shut, but instead of hearing the clattering body parts hitting stairs and bumping to the floor, there was the familiar crack of apparation and her eyes opened, relieved enough to laugh.  “Are you alright?” she asked sincerely, though less nervous about it when he rolled off and appeared unharmed. 

That was good.  It wouldn’t split the purpose of their hospital visit.  Akiva would not do well with her husband having a concussion while having their baby.  “Floo gives you a reaction,” Akiva pointed out, not that he’d forget, but again, she needed him completely with her for this.  “I think we can still take a taxi,” she pointed out before another cramping sensation spread through her lower abdomen and back, causing her to hiss out a breath until it passed.  This one lingered. 

She knew what she was supposed to do, apparently to make it less painful, but it wasn’t working (or she was forgetting to do it – irrelevant).  “Maybe floo,” she looked apologetic, “if you think you can…”

"Are you alright?"

"M'fine!" Dreogan said, laughing off the embarrassment as he shouldered The Bag.  He was crossing the room and helping her into a standing position before her next protest; for being in labor, she certainly was making this all about him.  Usually it was endearing.  Right now--as he noticed the tension in her body increase--it was concerning.

“Floo gives you a reaction.” He couldn't resist a light shake of his head.  Typical Kiv.

"Of becoming a sneeze-monster? I think I'll risk it," he stated emphatically, kissing her forehead affectionately.  It would get them to the hospital the safest and the quickest, and they were not splitting up because of some sinus pressure, headaches, itchy throat, stuffiness, sneezing...  That was what potions and masks in the delivery room were for, anyhow.  Where he was going, there were plenty of both.  Dreogan didn't even need to talk her out of the notion of the taxi.  Her body seemed to be seizing up. Or she was fighting against it.  All these classes and all Dreogan could remember was to look her level in the eye and evenly encourage her:

"Keep breathing with me, okay?"  He placed one arm around her to support her, the other resting on her abdomen.  "In...." Nudging her towards the fireplace, he breathed in audibly through his nose.  He grabbed a fistful of floo, had to move his hand from her abdomen to fish out his wand and cast incendio

...He'd not told her to breathe out...

"...Out..." he said belatedly. "Sorry... Just..." Green flames burst into life in the fireplace.  Ushering her in gently first, he followed at a crouch to fit in; they usually did not do this as a couple. In fact, he was trying to remember if they ever had...

As their home disappeared in the green flames, Dreogan caught sight of their silent audience: their three pets.

He was supposed to put the food out for them before they'd left. He was pretty sure that had been on the list they had up on the refrigerator... the one he hadn't looked at at all today... Best laid plans.

The flames dissipated, and Dreogan gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze.  "You alright?" he asked, moving them out of the fireplace and looking about frantically for a Healer to start the whole ordeal of the intake process. 

 “Well when you say it like that,” Akiva rolled her eyes.  She was naturally one to care about the comfort of others, even if she was wholly uncomfortable pretty much one hundred percent of the time, the least she could do was alleviate the struggle for someone else.  Dreogan wouldn’t hear of it, though. 

That made her feel more confident.  The nervous flutter in the pit of her chest (as well as the rather unfortunate contraction) was partially abated as he put his arm around her back and instructed her to breath with him.  A little flare of anger rippled in the back of her mind: as if it were so easy! She forgot how to breathe out until he told her to.  The burn in her chest slowed as the sensation passed, so did her tiny flame of fury and it dissipated into guilt.  She shouldn’t have thought that. 

It was hard not to be a little resentful, when he probably took even crouching for granted.  She took nothing involving movement for granted at this point.  Taking a shaky breath, Kiva muttered to herself that it would be fine as Dree threw the powder and they stepped in. 

She closed her eyes, the whole process was an entirely different strange while she was pregnant.  Of course, she supposed today would the last time in quite some time where she would floo while pregnant.  How frightening! 

The whole trip seemed to go by so quickly, though.  It was in a blink that they were stepping into the sterile hospital and fear (as well as another contraction) gripped her.  “Another one,” she squeaked out and gripped onto the side of his shirt.  “I just… I want to sit down,” she looked at him pleadingly (as though he could fix this immediately). 

Thankfully, the person whose responsibility it probably was seemed to legitimately pop out of nowhere.  Fresh faced and with a ponytail that was entirely too high and too tight simultaneously gripped a clipboard to her chest.  “What can I help you with?!” she chirped several octaves higher than the normal human register and Akiva, for perhaps the first time in her life regarded someone with immediate impatience. 

Jaw hanging slightly open, her gaze slowly shifted from her husband to the healer.  Words were not easy to come by, unfortunately and she looked at her with extreme suspicion and confusion, and ultimately frustration.

Dreogan had the strong, the entirely uncharactaristic and utterly primal urge to shake someone. His wife just wanted to sit down! She was in pain! They were having a baby.

What could this witch help them with?! It was fairly obvious, wasn't it?

"My wife is in labor," Dreogan said urgently.

"Oh, congratulations!" the welcome witch gave a bright smile, regarding Akiva with--if at all possible--renewed enthusiasm.  "I'll just need you to fill out your intake forms and provide us with the name of the healer." She produced a clipboard out of thin air.  "You'll see that's on page 5, after the medical history."

Page 5?!  Dree eyed the stack of papers.  "She is in labor," Dreogan repeated.  The witch smiled, nodding. It seemed a bit more strategic this time around.

"Yes, sir, I understand that. And we are happy to admit her once the appropriate--"

Akiva tightened her grip on his arm.  Face stern and determined, Dreogan gave the witch a reproving look before glancing at Akiva.  He nodded sympathetically to her before separating himself from her for a moment--only the space needed to move down the hall, wrangle free an abandoned wheelchair, and wheel it over to her.  If the welcome witch had issued any sort of complaint, Dreogan, by sheer will alone, had blocked it out.  "Here," he said, helping Akiva to settle in.  He stood behind her, ready to push the wheelchair forward.  The witch stepped in front of them.

"Here," echoed the welcome witch.  Dreogan didn't take the clipboard.

"Healer Morten."  The witch looked back blankly. "Our practitioner is Healer Morten.  I can fill this out," he gestured broadly to the clipboard still in the witch's hands, "after she's set up in a bed and we're sure everything's alright."  Surely she had to understand this logic.  Unless Mungo's wanted their firstborn son to be delivered on the marble entry of their hospital. 

"Sir, I first need--"

"Look, Miss--?" Dreogan raised his eyebrows, giving her a smile.  Perhaps a little charm.

"Francine."

"Francine," Dreogan continued, his own smile also strategic at this point.  Diplomacy.  He'd made a career of this.  "I understand that there are certain ways that you do things, here. I respect that.  Perhaps you can come along with us as we get set up in a room? I can answer the questions, and maybe you can write them down? That way it's in the proper sequence? You must understand, this baby could come at any moment, and I'm sure you wouldn't want him coming while we're here."  They had protocols for that, too, he was certain.

She frowned, nostrils flaring. Oh, dear... This was not going well.  Finally, she seemed to decide upon something.

"I'll have an aide follow you to Room 4." Well, as long as she was willing to shove the task off onto someone else, Dreogan didn't much care who filled out the paperwork, so long as it got them on their way sooner.  "Tony!" she called; when a young man arrived, he pushed the clipboard against his chest.  "Help this gentleman fill out the intake paperwork and get them settled into Room 4."

"Thank you," Dreogan began, but the Good Feelings the witch had been brimming with only moments before seemed entirely gone.  He looked at Tony. Both men looked equally miserable. 

"This way," the aide said.  Dreogan pushed Akiva, close upon the aide's heels, leaning forward to whisper in her ear.

"How are you holding up?"

Akiva watched the scene playing out in front of her rather helplessly.  Obviously they needed to fill things in and do certain things… but obviously they could do that after they were settled.   There was a file somewhere… unfortunately, Akiva was not certain of what she could even say to make that happen. 

She had never been the best person in a tense situation, but her husband!  He was the one you genuinely wanted to be around when a situation was starting to deteriorate.  If there hadn’t been enough evidence of it before[1], when he wheeled over a wheelchair, Akiva was positive she could not have gotten through this part without him. 

Out of the house it was her turn to be a little bit panicked.  It hadn’t seemed real until they stepped out of the floo.  But now, in the hospital, it was settling in and they would be leaving this hospital with another member of their family.  If the contractions weren’t making her feel the need to sit, she daunting realization would have as well.  Protectively, she placed her hands atop her stomach and just focused on breathing, just like they’d practice.

Granted, she was doing it alone – Dreogn was too busy trying to make miracles happen with this healer who was not Healer Morten. 

Whatever he did seemded to work though, because the high ponytailed healer was handing off the chart and said something about room four.  The perky healer now looked sour as she stalked away and left them alone with the wizard called Tony.  He  beckoned them to follow and Kiv felt the wheels on the chair jolt forward before settling into a regular pace.

"How are you holding up?"

Akiva turned her head to look up at her husband, smiling in the best humor she could as she kissed him on the cheek.  “I can always count on you,” she tried to sound less nervous than she actually was, which wasn’t exactly working.  The rest of the ride down the hallway, she took in silence. Her hands were shaking and when they turned into what had to be room four she felt the pick up in her heart rate.  Wow.  This was it, wasn’t it? 

“Here’s your room,” Tony mumbled as he turned back toward them and held the clipboard out, then retracted it, not really sure of what he was supposed to do with it.  Akiva was sympathetic.  He didn’t seem as gung-ho as his superior to force them into anything.  She couldn’t blame him. 

“Thank you,” Akiva looked up at the young man with a smile, “He can take that now,” she motioned to the clipboard, “and I am going to take a moment,” she breathed out, slowly and tried to stem off the pain of another contraction.  She was aware they’d get worse as time went on… but this seemed so fast. 

As the pain subsided, Akiva looked over to Dreogan with wide eyes and white knuckles, “We should owl – your mum, my mum,” she cast a nervous glance over toward Tony, still standing in the corner breathing through his mouth: hopefully her parents would be let in.  She didn’t anticipate the Eleors would let anyone stop them from that, and she couldn’t help but worry.  “Adon,” she added with a little laugh, “right?” 

1.	Memorial Ceremony in which Dreogan quite literally parts a crowd to help people escape

"Uh..." Did they want to invite the entire Katz-Eleor clan right now?  Dreogan made a show of flipping through the intake paperwork as he considered.  How best to say this. He emitted a breathy laugh, "..eventually."  They'd have to wait and see if the baby was even coming any time soon.  However vigilant they had just been in keeping patients at bay, the healers at the reception desk, in Dreogan's estimation, would only be successful in holding back Hestia Eleor for all of five minutes.  If the baby was not due for some time, his mother would be pacing the length of this room like a caged tiger. Besides, Akiva had more than enough going on, he had enough to manage without trying to reassure his mother, tell his brother to butt out...

The Katzes, of course, were lovely.  But there could only be so many bodies in this room. Everything was swallowed for a moment as time seemed to stop. Kiva pitched forward in the wheelchair, grip white, eyes wide.  Dreogan felt helpless, only managing a sort of dumb hurts-me-hurts-you expression of commiseration that he wasn't even sure was genuine.  Could he even imagine what this felt like?  He knelt down, trying to make eye contact with Akiva, who seemed trying to curl herself up--and, due to her, well, girth--being fully unable.

She seemed to be coming down from the surge of pain, and Dreogan felt his breathing return to normal, too.  "Surely, Tony, there are some sort of... potions to help with this?" 

"Anthony," the sorry-looking aide mumbled.

"Pardon?" Dreogan asked, eyes still on his wife.

"It's... Anthony, actually. And Healer Morten can administer the potions once you--" he trailed off.  Both men looked down at the clipboard in Dreogan's hand.

"Right, right, of course," Dreogan said absently, beginning to scratch out detail after detail.  Finally, with a nervous smile, he handed it back to Tony.  No, Anthony.

"She'll need to change into this," he said, motioning to the shapeless Mungo's robes patients were required to wear. "I'll come back and help her to the bed once I've processed this."  And then, it was just the two of them.

Had Dreogan ever even answered her question of owling their families?  "We should--and will," Dree input belatedly.  "Once we've talked to Healer Morten and know a bit more, hm?" He said, laying a light hand on her arm as he kissed the top of her head.  There was this to consider: contractions, arm grabs, and cringes and all, this was Dreogan and Akiva's last few moments of them just being them. 

He held up the blue material of the patient's gown.  "Do you want help or... want a minute?"

Anthony, as the young man identified himself, was doing his best to be helpful, Akiva was sure.  He wasn’t like the witch who had mindlessly shoved the clipboard in their faces before.  The sound of his voice did not make Akiva want to grind her teeth.  Perhaps it was the fact he was cooperative, but to the uncomfortable pregnant woman in the room, that was really all that mattered at the moment. 

Letting out a deep breath, she looked up at her husband after the wizard quickly disappeared from the room.  He was right, their parents and family members (biological or not) could wait.  Healer Morten wasn’t even here yet. 

Her shoulders dropped with some level of relief as he pressed his lips to her forehead.  Her eyes fluttered close, “You’re right,” she reached up to touch his cheek and then let her eyes drop to the limp, blue fabric in his hands. 

A disgruntled sigh accompanied the pained expression on her face.  She was not looking forward to this.  “Help,” she laughed lightly.  “We can start with getting up,” she held out her hands and smiled before they began the ungraceful extraction from the chair. 

Finally firmly on her feet, Akiva really had it from here, but she took the moment to instruct, “Have the thing open, Dree?” she fiddled with the topmost button on her top before pulling it up and over before taking the now open shapeless thing and slipped it on.

She turned around and glanced over her shoulder at Dreogan, “Tie me?” she pulled her hair out of the way and waited to feel the pull of the strings.  “Thank you,” she added with a wide smile. “Can you believe when this is over we’ll have a baby?” she asked, awed (and a little petrified) at the whole thing.  She busied her hands with brushing down deep folds in the fabric. 

Two, brisk knocks interrupted her thought though and Akiva turned.  “Decent?” the familiar voice of Healer Morten called through the door.  Her heart thudded in her chest – very real – before Akiva found her voice to say, “You can come in.”  Her hand found its way into Dreogan’s and she gave it a prolonged squeeze.  The pressure was coming back and she grimaced, hissing.