Aran might have slept for days upon his return home to Rhy'Din if not for the fact that Carina awoke him, as if to remind him that he needed to eat and drink so he wouldn't forget. And there was the duty and responsibility he had to his people, to help them get settled and sort out how they'd fit into their new community and world. There was a lot to do, but for now, it was enough that they were safe and being cared for, just as was he. He awoke sore, but as rested as could be expected, all things considered. He also awoke ravenous, as if he still needed to make up for the days where he'd gone without food. The journey to his home world had not been an easy one, and that story still needed telling, but not before breakfast.

There was plenty to eat. He had been asleep for many hours, through the day and the night, and well into the morning. Carina had stayed beside him for much of that time, but Aleron had come to the house several times for instructions, and to her amazement, he had been happy to take her orders as though they were Arandir's. Thus, over the course of the afternoon, night, and morning, Anarven had settled. The moot-house was now the place where the displaced elves were living for the time being, without being crushed up tightly, and the families of the village had been more than happy to share their food with them. It was only when she deemed him to have slept for too long that she returned to the house to wake her husband, drawing him up from where he slept to make the most of the hot meal set in front of him.

The first thing he had done when he awoke was ask about his people, needing to know they were safe and settling in well and their needs were being met. He was a little worried how they'd react to living with a group of mixed races, but so far, it seemed there had been no problems or conflicts. His was a peaceful people, and they seemed eternally grateful, not only for the rescue, but the welcome and hospitality. Their future was uncertain, but all that would be sorted out in time. In the meantime, Aran knew he had a duty to himself and his people, and Carina, to regain his own strength so that he could help in whatever way he could. They were all counting on him, Carina included. As hungry as he was, she could have set a bowl of gruel in front of him, and he probably would have devoured it without complaint. The same could be said for the refugees. Until he was done scraping the last bit of food from the plate, there was little she was going to get in the way of answers.

And to her credit, she didn't ask for those answers. She sat and ate with him, at the table set up outside her grandparents' house, where he could see for himself how his people were settling in. There were already signs of integration beginning to make themselves known - some elves had joined the villagers' hunting party, others had volunteered to help prepare the food alongside Anarven's natives. Others were drawing up plans for homes, each race weighing in on different designs and locations and how best they would suit each type of person.

As they ate, a red-headed elf approached them, catching Carina's eye. "Yes, Luinithlas?" she asked curiously, not entirely sure why the female elf who originated here in Anarven would be approaching her at all.

Luinithlas smiled warmly. "Your father says you have some contacts within the city," she said. "Contacts that could help us gain building materials sooner rather than later?"

Carina blushed - the only person with those sorts of resources she knew was Jonathan Granger, and he was a little busy with his family right now. "I-I can ask," she shrugged. "We'll find a way."

"You could ask Mataya," Aran suggested, chasing a mouthful of food with a gulp of tea. Though she might not be able to provide those resources herself, it was likely she'd know who to contact to provide them. He'd recognized the elf from the village, but did not yet know them all personally. He waved a hand to get another elf's attention - one of the refugees and one that he knew well. "Hal!" he called, a tall, blond elf turning and making his way toward them.

"My prince," he said, greeting Aran with a respectful bow, which Aran ignored with a blush, clearing his throat in embarrassment. He supposed he was going to have to get used to it.

"Would you help ....Luinithlas ....determine what?s needed as far as shelter and resources are concerned so that we can send for supplies?"

The blond-haired elf looked to the red-haired female and offered a nod in greeting. "It would be my honor."

"Jon would be a more direct route," Carina mused thoughtfully, glancing up as Aran called one of his people over to set up a sort of liaison.

Luinithlas looked Hal up and down, and nodded in agreement, stepping away with him and leaving the young half-elven couple in peace.

"Mind you, little Maggie's family have an architectural contact or two," Carina added. "We know a few people, I suppose. But how would we pay?"

"If we ask Jonathan or Mataya for help, we may not need to," Aran replied, knowing both or either was likely to want to help in some way, either by helping fund the project or helping to find funding. It was a start anyway. If nothing else, perhaps they could point them in the right direction.

"But which to ask?" Carina said thoughtfully. "Whichever one we approach will tell the other. Their friendship is just too close for them not to. And ....I don't like the idea of asking without being able to offer anything in return."

Aran frowned thoughtfully. If they weren't in the middle of an election, they might appeal to the Governor for help, but depending on who won the election, their request might not be looked on with much favor. "Then, perhaps we should ask them both," he replied, though he wasn't quite sure they could offer in return.

"Well ....we both need to talk to Mataya anyway," she said quietly, curling her fingers into his. "She probably won't like what we have to say, but she'll understand. After all, it's not like she doesn't have a long list of stars now."

"You don't have to leave the theater, Carina," Aran was quick to point out, not wanting her to sacrifice a career she loved just because of him.

"Aran ....whatever happens, I have to take time away from the theater as it is," she reminded him in a gentle tone. "I won't be able to dance safely in just a couple of months' time. It's hard enough now, being so tired. I would want to take at least a couple of years off to get our child started in life before even considering going back to work. It's perfect timing, that's all."

"I suppose," he admitted quietly. He hadn't forgotten that she was with child, but he didn't want to deny her anything, even if his own life's course had changed. "I do not wish to disappoint Mataya, but I don't think I will have time for the theater anymore," he admitted, a little sadly, but he had never really intended to make it his life's work.

"They haven't even cast our next show yet," she told him, touching her knuckles tenderly to his jaw. "Let's just talk to her, let her come to the decision for us. I'll still be teaching the STARS until early December, of course - I'm covering for Jon, anyway."

She smiled faintly, touching her forehead to his. "I believe we make our own fate," she told him. "But someone gave us a nudge when we first met. Why else would I have asked you out on a date straightaway?"

"You were enchanted by my charm and debonair?" he asked, a rare teasing smirk on his face. No matter what grief he was feeling, there was hope in that smile and because of Carina. Somehow, she always knew how to make him smile, especially when he was feeling his lowest. "Come, a'mael," he said, touching a kiss to her forehead before taking her hand and moving to his feet. "I would like to see how they are faring."

Carina was happy to rise with him, curling her hand into his as they moved toward the bustling village. There were many people to see - his own people knew him by name; her grandfather's people knew her by name. They were the lynch-pin that linked the two communities, and with luck, theirs was the example that would be followed.

Before long, both Aran and Carina were helping out, too, wherever they could. Prince or not, he was not afraid to get his hands dirty and not afraid to pitch in and do his fair share of work. Hours later when they took a break, much had already been accomplished, as was usually the case when people worked together and cooperated. It also became obvious that Aran was still recuperating himself, and he and Carina were chased off to spend what remained of the day resting and relaxing and simply enjoying each other's company. Not even a prince could argue with that.

"Anyone would think they didn't want us getting dirty," Carina laughed as she was chased away from the foundation digging for the third time, this time by a hobbit wielding a rolled up cloth.

"Well, you are with child, Carina," Aran pointed out, though he wasn't sure how many of their people knew it yet. He linked his fingers with hers as they strolled slowly through the settlement on their way back to her grandparents' house.

Amara and Raniel had already headed back to the city and their shop, but Vethen and Jenith were working hard with their friends to help the elves settle in. Carina smiled, touching her cheek to Aran's shoulder. "Yes, but they don't know that," she pointed out. "Do they' Is that something full blooded elves and dwarves can do, spot a pregnancy from a mile away?"

"I think they can smell it or something," Aran replied, though he wasn't too sure. He was of mixed blood himself, half elf and half human, so he had no way of knowing whether that was true or not, but he did know that elves, at least, seemed to sense things that others could not. "They have not had any children in hundreds of years, Carina," he reminded her. "Perhaps that is what makes them so sensitive to it." And what made children so precious to them.

"Perhaps," she agreed with a faint smile, glancing over her shoulder at the familiar sound of childrens' laughter. Here in Anarven, the children were taught to mix from birth. No one thought anything of a half-blooded child sitting with a full-blooded. "How do you think your people are coping with that, though?" she asked, gesturing to where the youngest members of the community were playing together. The smallest among them was a full-blooded hobbit girl, tiny when compared with her peers, but far more adventurous in many ways. Her cousin was only a year younger than her, but was half-elf, half-hobbit, and considerably taller. They were an interesting sight to behold.

Aran followed Carina's hand to where a small group of children was playing, half-bloods mingling with full-bloods as though it were the most ordinary thing in the world. It was Rhy'Din, after all. Aran frowned a moment at the thought of that, knowing nothing had changed since he'd been gone. After all, he had only been gone a few hours of Rhy'Din time, if that. "Children are precious to them, Carina. Without children, they will die and be forgotten, with no one to carry on, but myself." Was it any wonder their prince was so revered" Even half-human, he'd been the only child born to them in hundreds of years.

"They might surprise you, a'maelamin," she told him with a wise smile. "Even if they only truly interact with the elves here, it might be enough to revitalize their bloodlines. Rhy'Din is a special sort of place. There's even a long-standing joke that drinking the water here will get you pregnant. Who knows" It might turn out to be true for these people."

"Perhaps," Aran replied, uncertainly. In any case, he was proof that it was still possible to have a child, under certain circumstances. He wasn't so sure how those of them who were already couples would feel about mixing bloodlines, but like Carina had said, this was Rhy'Din, and there were plenty of possibilities, not the least of which was adoption. He came to a halt as they neared her grandparents' house and turned to face her. "Carina, you should know, they are not just my people. They are yours, too, now."

She paused, turning to look up at him. "Aran, even if I wasn't already thinking of them like that, they wouldn't give me a choice anyway," she pointed out with a smile. "You missed the way Aleron spoke to me while you were unconscious. He called me his princess, and he wouldn't even look me in the eye until I told him to. If he is the voice of these people, they have not only acknowledged your marriage, but embraced it, and I am just as responsible for them as you are."

Reassured by the knowledge that his people had already accepted her as their princess, he stepped closer, pausing a moment to reach for the chain that hung about his neck. "As my chosen mate and Princess of Ilyethlin, this rightfully belongs to you," he told her as he slipped the chain around her neck and settled it against her heart.

"Aran, that's ..." He didn't give her a chance to protest, settling the chain about her neck and letting her feel the gentle weight of the soul stone against her heart. Her fingertips touched it, her expression a little awed. "This was your mother's," she reminded him. "I ....I don't think I deserve to wear this, a'maelamin. It's yours."

His fingers brushed the soulstone, as if to caress the souls whose memories were stored there, which now included that of his mother's. "No, a'mael. It is yours. It was my mother's before me, yes, but only for safekeeping. It was always meant for the one who would become my mate, and now that my - our - people have joined us, it is only right that you wear it. You are one of us now, Carina."

Slowly, her expression cleared, her familiar smile rising on her face as he explained the purpose of the stone. "No pressure, then," she teased, lifting onto her toes to curl her arms about his neck and kiss him. If it was strange for the Ilyethlin elves to see their prince so openly loving and loved, it was something they were going to have to get used to.

"It is ..." He was about to explain how it was tradition, and how it was always a female who wore the stone and kept it safe for their people, but her kiss caught him off guard, cutting off any explanation he might give her. He thought she probably got the gist of it anyway without his explanation. Whether it was strange to see their prince so openly affectionate with a female who was not of his own bloodline, their smiles proved they were happy for him and accepting of his chosen mate.

Though he didn't want to admit it, he had shed his own fair share of tears. "I'm sorry, a'mael," he told her. "I did not wish to worry you," he added, though there had really been no way around it. She could take comfort, at least, in the fact that he had kept his promise and returned.

"Aran." She caught his hands, pulling him about to face her. "You need to stop that. I love you. That means you can't stop me from worrying about you. No matter what you do, or what you say, I will worry. But you can lessen my worries. Talk to me, tell me what is disturbing you, what is worrying you, and I will worry less for you. Let me worry with you. It's much easier in the long run."

Pulled around to face her, her hands in his, he could not help but meet her gaze and know that she meant what she said. But then, he'd known that already. She had a point though, and he wanted no secrets between them. "I am not worried so much for myself, as I am for you, for our child, for our people. I know nothing has changed here since I was gone. I know there are those who believe humans are superior to others. It frightens me what might come of such thinking, Carina. I know humans have been persecuted in some places, but so has every race at one time or another. I fear what will happen if such a person comes to power, and I wonder if I did the right thing in bringing my people here to a world where they might stand to face the same danger as they one they just left." There, he'd said it out loud for the first time since arriving home.

She didn't need him to tell her exactly who was worrying him there, but she did need him to realize one very important fact. "If ....if ....they manage to come to power," she told him, "you need to remember this. Our people will not stand alone. We will not let our people become victims to be persecuted - none of them, regardless of their race. We will defend them to the last breath if it comes to it, but I trust my father when he says that it will not come to that. It is a phase in politics, nothing more. Rhy'Din is too multi-cultural to allow such racial divides to ever be more than a passing fancy, quickly subdued."

"My mother chose this place with that in mind. Her magic sensed that this place, more than any other, would be a safe haven, not only for me but for our people. I am only sorry it took me so long to go back for them. If I'd come back sooner, I could have saved more of them," he told her, confessing the guilt he felt at having only been able to save a small handful of them, though it was better than none. With any luck, they would start to rebuild their lives here, so that they and their families could grow and thrive.

"But before now, you didn't know how to go back," she reminded him gently. "Your mother told you to live. She never expected you to go back for her, for any of them. You have done more than she ever asked of you, a'maelamin. More than anyone has ever asked of you."

"I know," he replied quietly, his heart heavy at the sense of loss, but glad he had been able to save as many as he had. "If only she had told me before I left ..." he said, though there had been no time, and even if there had, she might not have even known it was possible. "She could not have come with us, a'mael, even if she had wanted to."

"Why?" Such a simple question, and yet she knew the answer would be loaded with more complex emotions than he could possibly put into words. All she could do was gently draw that answer from him, and hope that in sharing it, the burden on his heart would lessen.

"It is hard to explain, but ....her heart was ....tethered to the land, to that place, to Ilyethlin. It was the way of things. She cared not only for our people, but for the land and the woods and the animals who lived there. There was no way to severe the bond. If she had left, she would only have perished." And so, he'd been bound to lose her whether she stayed or came with him. Knowing this, she had chosen to stay and sacrifice her life so that her people could escape.

"Oh, Aran ..." Tears in her eyes for the pain that knowledge had to give him, she drew him close, pressing her face against his neck as her hands stroked against his back. There really was nothing she could say to help him cushion that blow. She just had to hope that he would be able to live with it.

"It's all right, Carina," he assured her, even as she sought to console and comfort him. His arms went around her, but he wondered if he was not the one who was consoling her. "Her death was an honorable one. One could not ask for more than that," he said. The blast of magic that had thrown him through the portal had been his mother's last desperate attempt to protect her son and her people.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," she whispered to him, ashamed of herself for being so emotional. At least she could blame it on the baby for now, but he had lived with her for the last two years. He'd seen what she was like when there were pictures of puppies on the television; sadly, being this emotional was normal for Carina.

He didn't mind that she was emotional; in fact, shedding tears for his mother was one way of honoring the woman she had never met but who had, in a way, given her a husband. As for himself, he had cried enough tears to last him a lifetime, but there was one thing more he wanted to do to honor the elf who had been his mother. "Will you stand with me tonight, under the stars, while I say goodbye?" he asked her, pulling away just enough that he could see her face.

She hadn't thought he would need to ask. "Of course I will," she promised him, sniffling to clear her nose after crying yet again. "And if we have a daughter, we'll name her after your mother. No arguments."

He smiled at the thought of that, though they did not yet know if their child would be a son or a daughter. "I think she would like that," he said as he very gently brushed the tears from her face.

"And hopefully I'll stop crying before she's born," Carina added, her smile wry despite her tears. "I promise, I will stop crying at some point soon. They're not all bad tears, they're just ....lots."

"You speak as if you already know it's a daughter," he said, brows arching upwards. Did she know, and if so, how? But then, this was Rhy'Din and anything was possible. "I do not mind your tears, a'maelamin," he told her with a soft smile.

"I can hope," she told him, smiling through her tears. Her fingertips stroked his ear gently, teasing him with a soft reminder of why they had come out here together in the first place. "We're still not quite ready to swim, you know."

"I know," he replied, with a hint of a smirk. He wasn't sure just how much actual swimming was going to happen, but it didn't really matter. He sighed as she stroked his ear, feeling at once peaceful and content.

"We should change that," she murmured, brushing her lips to his as her fingertip rounded the tip of his ear teasingly. She knew exactly what she was doing, and he knew it. This was something they shared in their mixed blood, something inherited from their elven parents, a sensitivity that went beyond words. "Possibly before I push you too far to care about getting wet trousers."

"Mm, you know me," she murmured through her grin. "I'm very interactive." No more words. Just soft laughter and loving sighs added to the natural sounds around them as she turned her attention to the one thing in the multiverse that meant everything to her, and to making him just as relaxed as he always made her.

There was no point in arguing that fact, as he surrendered himself to her affections, trading those affections with some attention of his own. He might have only been gone an hour as far as Rhy'Din time was concerned, but Aran had several weeks to make up for and he intended to take his time doing it.

Indeed, it was beginning to grow dark before they surfaced, each of them wrinkled and pruned and smiling like lovestruck fools. "We really should do that more often," Carina teased him as she lazily climbed out of the water, quick to snatch up a towel as the cool air chilled her skin.

Though lovestruck fools they might be, neither was complaining. "We will," Aran promised, touching a kiss to her lips with a soft sigh. "But I think we should get back before someone comes looking for us," he warned. It was a definite possibility.

She smiled. "We should," was her murmured agreement. "So you should dry off before something important shrinks in protest." She winked at him teasingly, already as dry as she was going to get, and turned to gather her clothes together. Whatever her grandfather had originally had in mind, they would definitely be returning to Anarven in a better frame of mind than they had left in.

"It's going to shrink anyway," he pointed out with a laugh, as he rubbed himself dry with a towel. He wasn't sure how the man had known, but this had been exactly what the couple needed - a few hours alone to reconnect and renew the bonds of love that held them together.

"Not that much, I hope," she teased, ducking into her shirt. She paused a moment to shake her damp hair out, twisting it into a very swift braid. Easing close, she kissed Aran softly, smiling against his lips. "Thank you, for coming home."

"I will never leave you again, Carina. Promise," he told her, kissing her once again before pulling away so that he could finish getting dressed, stealing a glance her way every now and then, just because.

What had once started as an almost accidental friendship had grown and blossomed into something truly beautiful. A wife, a home, a safe haven for the people he had thought he would never see again. And soon ....a child. If that wasn't beautiful, if that wasn't worth the heartbreak that had brought him to this land, then nothing was.