"I'm going with you," said Cho firmly, holding the blankets tightly around her. "I know it will be cold. Everywhere is cold. I'd rather be cold with you than alone."

Gwynt sighed. Her need for warmth had leveled off, finally, but the temperatures in their apartment were such that he was on two showers a day and hadn't worn more than a pair of boxers around the place in weeks. "You know the plane's not insulated, hon, and it's February out there," he tried. "Snow an' ice and believe you me it's cold!"

Not colder than the look in her blue-green eyes, though, Gwynt had to admit to himself. In three layers of wool and every blanket in the apartment, and six months pregnant, Cho was managing to radiate a kind of 'keep talking and I'll kick your ass' determination. Gwynt had stopped trying to talk her out of keeping the baby after getting back from Deling; he'd really tried to do as Irvine had suggested even though he was extremely unsure whether keeping the baby was a good idea. He could just ignore her - go without her, as he'd planned. In the end he just didn't have the heart to; yes, she'd be warmer and safer here at home. But as her belly grew with their child, Gwynt felt more and more as if an hourglass were hanging over him, the sand pouring out day by day. He wanted her to be happy, as much as that was possible given her condition and the side effects of bearing a child as unnatural as himself. And most of all, if she didn't survive her baby, he wanted to be absolutely sure in his own mind that he'd done nothing he would regret. She knew how cold it was and would be, how uncomfortable she'd be. And she was still glaring at him.

He caved. "I'll go change the flight plan," he sighed.

"Why change it?" Cho asked sharply. "What were you planning to do?"

Gwynt unrolled a huge navigator's map of the world on their table; the apartment was a studio and therefore didn't have a kitchen per se. The map was more apt to ship navigation than aviation, marking currents in detail and prevailing winds, but Gwynt unrolled a second map over the top - a transparent film that marked patrolled airspaces. His finger trailed routes as he spoke. "Well, I was gonna go northwest - to Balamb, see, an' drop off the stuff for Noddy that I got from the bitch an' Irvine. From there best bet's Dollet, then down to Winhill that way. But if you're comin' along then I'm makin' the flight as short as I can; that's west to Fisherman's Horizon, then to Timber, and southwest from there to Winhill. Only problem with that is neither FH nor Timber's all that great for visitors. But it's the shortest, fastest way."

Cho was a more experienced pilot than he; she knew what he was saying. "Unless you're chartering a jet...that's five days. One way."

Gwynt sighed. "There's no money," he admitted. "Not to rent jets. My Shooting Star ain't the fastest plane in the Airstation - but she's mine, an' I'd only have to fork out for the fuel." He winced. "Which is still not cheap. But I've got just enough, an' I promised."

"Five days, each way, plus stopover time in Winhill," said Cho quietly. "You're talking two weeks, and you want me to stay home?"

"We've done it before," he protested, getting edgy. When Cho started asking questions that had no safe answers, he knew he was on thin ice. "When I've done charter..."

She didn't have to have a counter-argument. All she had to do was huddle in her blankets, looking absolutely miserable and lost. He sighed; he didn't mind arguing with her, but on this one he just didn't have the heart to. "You sure, hon?" he asked. "It's gonna be damn cold, at least until we get to FH."

"I've been cold for months," said Cho tiredly. "Cold and grounded and trapped in this apartment. I want to go out, Gwynt. I want to meet your family. It's the hottest part of summer in Winhill right now."

"Just checking," he said, rolling up the maps again. "Go pack your two-weeks bag while I change the flight plan with the Airstation."

Gwynt tried not to watch Cho lever herself to her feet and waddle to the clothes chest while he made the call. She was very pregnant, and it wasn't at all easy on her, but he'd learned that offering to help her with anything without being asked to was a good way to upset her. That was probably the worst part of it - it didn't make her angry, as it would have before. It just made her upset - weepy and upset. He didn't know which bothered him more - the sight of her crying, or her lack of fire in the first place. Whichever it was, he didn't want to deal with it. If it made her happy to make herself uncomfortable doing her own chores, he'd let her do it and get on with it.

Money was a problem, though. He had promised to be the courier for his brothers and sisters, and that promise was rock hard; if he could go, he would, regardless of the cost. It was less a choice than a compulsion; he physically could not break his given word - which was something he shared with his siblings but no one else. But he'd made that promise before ever considering that someone like Cho would enter his life, and keeping his promise was making life harder than it had to be for her. He did long range cargo runs, overnight runs, whatever jobs Kakeru could drum up for his class of aircraft, and by rights he should have been able to stay home and take care of Cho months ago on the proceeds. But he couldn't. Like it or not, the promise was made; as long as Cho was cared for, the rest of the money had to go to playing courier.

Well...he no longer had to pay out-of-pocket to run packages to Balamb or Dollet. With the flight hours he had logged, and his siblings there found, he could just wait until a job to those cities opened up, and then the expense of the flight was his clients' problem. Winhill was distant and self-contained, but maybe something similar could be worked out. Then the only trip he'd have to pay out of pocket for would be the longest and most expensive of the lot - hunting down Taran on the continent of Centra, without any real clues as to where he might be.

He did wish he could take better care of Cho, though. She'd told off her family for his sake, and she needed him. It wasn't fair.

Well, life tended not to be. Having Cho around at all was a miracle. If he quibbled too much over particulars, Pandemona might get annoyed and take her away again to teach him proper gratitude. It wasn't smart to be given a dime and whine because it wasn't a dollar. His call sorted, he watched Cho start to pull layer after layer of clothing on - preparatory to going out into the freezing February weather - and picked up the phone again. Fuck the cost - it wouldn't be all that much anyway, they lived pretty close to the Airstation. He couldn't use his power to fly her, he didn't want her exposed to winter any more than she had to be, and money was tight but not that tight. He'd call them a cab.

* * * * * *

Cho was as much a pilot as he was, Gwynt knew, and proved it. Her whole outlook improved the moment they reached the Airstation's hangar, and although he knew she had to be freezing - the hangar was out of the wind, but it wasn't heated - she gave as good as she got when the other pilots teased her over the size of her belly.

"You fly us out," he suggested to her after one of the jibes - that she couldn't reach the yoke over a stomach like that. "Hell, didn't you teach him how to fly?"

"He's always had a bigger mouth than he knew what to do with," Cho agreed, walking unencumbered by anything but her pregnancy as Gwynt had their bags. "It's your plane though."

That was courtesy, pilot's courtesy. You didn't fly someone else's plane without their express permission, no matter who you were. But Gwynt only grinned. "Show the kid how it's done, Instructor."

He knew what he was doing; presented with such an inducement, Cho's fingers could be falling off before she admitted to being uncomfortable. She was physically capable of flying, no matter what her body thought of the temperature. And she had more than enough training to do so, as well.

Not to mention the fact that it gave her a perfectly good excuse to sit down while he sorted out the preflight items she read off the checklist. The heater worked perfectly, of course. That sorted, he slid into the copilot's seat and Cho gave the Airstation crew an example of a textbook perfect takeoff into less than perfect conditions, lifting Gwynt's Shooting Star up into low cloud cover on instruments alone.

Gwynt knew to keep his mouth shut; Cho was piloting, and knew what she was doing, and he'd just have to trust her to tell him if and when she was too uncomfortable to keep flying. The Star wasn't well heated - really, the heater just kept temperatures in the cockpit and cabin above freezing, as Gwynt didn't fly passengers if he could in any way prevent it, and he himself had a very broad temperature tolerance range. More than that, once she got the plane up above the cloud cover, Cho radiated a kind of Zen-like peace; she was back in her element. Miserably cold or not, she'd needed to fly. It was like their first weeks together, all over again.

Well, except for the demands pregnancy put on a woman's bladder. Gwynt knew better than to laugh; just took control when told to, and kept his mouth absolutely shut concerning speculations about ungainly pregnant women and little bitty aircraft toilets.

* * * * * *

The greatest advantage Gwynt had over other pilots was also one that most didn't see quickly; he didn't need as much sleep. Four hours left him completely rested, and at need he could get by for days on two hour naps. This greatly reduced the amount of stopover time he required on long distance flights - in general, in fact, Gwynt had learned to sleep in his plane during refuelings and ground checks, and by the time the required stopover checks and inspections were completed he was rested and ready to go.

Cho needed more than that, of course, but she was willing to sleep on the plane - with the stipulation that they overnight in Timber so that she didn't look a total mess when meeting his sisters for the first time. Gwynt just shrugged and agreed; he knew perfectly well that the twins wouldn't care what Cho looked like, but assumed this was a female thing he wouldn't get if he got it explained to him anyway.

Once they neared Fisherman's Horizon, Cho handled more of the flying. Fisherman's Horizon and the Horizon Bridge hugged the equator; it was warm year round there, and as they made their way farther south to Timber and then Winhill, they reached the southern hemisphere's season of late summer - the range best suited to making Cho comfortable. Gwynt tried to focus on the fact that the heat made Cho happier, and let go of the fact that even in the equivalent of Esthar's August she was still heavily bundled up and shivering.

Winhill did not like visitors, as a general rule. The airfield was two perpendicular runways and a control tower, far enough away from the village that it was out of sight and the noise of any landing aircraft would be absorbed by the surrounding hills. No roads led to Winhill, no trains ran there. The people were isolationist to the point of xenophobia, and while they would welcome tourist dollars they always kept visitors in specific areas so as not to bother the locals.

Gwynt knew himself to be enough of an ethnic mutt that at least he probably wouldn't get specific epithets aimed in his direction; he also knew that Cho very clearly bore the stamp of both Galbadian and Esthari nobility, neither of which were popular with the people of Winhill. And on top of this, he didn't want Cho to have to walk all the way from the airfield into town - where they'd have to go, to find his sisters. So, when Cho brought the Shooting Star in for a landing, he moved to pick her up.

"I can walk," Cho protested.

"It's more'n a mile into town and I don't know where the girls might live," Gwynt replied. "You'll wear yourself out."

"You need to carry the boxes of presents," Cho pointed out. "You can't do that and carry me as well."

Gwynt frowned at the stasis lockers. "I'll leave 'em here for now," he said. "You walk as much as you want, but when you get tired you let me carry you. Okay?"

"Okay," Cho reluctantly agreed, bundling up further - there would be wind outside the airplane, and she knew the metal absorbed heat so that it was warmer inside than out.

Gwynt was allowed to help her deplane, but once on solid ground Cho was insistent on doing as much as she could on her own. To stifle the urge to support - or even provide balance - Gwynt shoved his hands in his pockets and kept them there until Cho was tired enough to endure being carried.

As it turned out, and rather much to Gwynt's surprise and gratification, carrying a tired and very pregnant wife caused the reticent Winhilli to be quite helpful in pointing the way to his sisters' new ranch. He was surprised to find they'd managed to get a big house on a rather large plot of land so soon - was it easier to make a living in Winhill, or was there some other reason? Of course, they just had to build it on the opposite side of town from the airfield, he noted, but without much rancor. If there were people in the world he trusted, without question, to be thoughtful and kind whenever possible, it was his twin half sisters. They were afraid of heights and would never, ever fly anywhere themselves; reason enough, probably, for them to live far away from reminders of their fear.

There were a lot of little children about.

"You can put me down, you know," Cho said as he carried her up to the door.

"Let's be sure we got the right place first," Gwynt replied. "Want to knock on the door for us?"

Cho did so, and for a few moments nothing happened. Then a petite woman with short black hair - tucking behind her ears with a preoccupied expression - opened the door, saying, "Yes? Come in, do, and don't mind the chaos..." Then, as she realized who was standing at her door, her pale eyes lit up with surprise at the sight of them even as her jaw dropped in disbelief. "Gwynt?"

Cho blinked; realizing this must be one of his half-sisters. She certainly looked nothing like Gwynt, aside from her petite size, though she did look somewhat like Nodwydd. Gwynt felt Cho shift in his arms; a not so subtle hint that she would like to be set down. Gwynt had his own priorities. "Cho, this here's my half-sister Chwaer. Chwaer, this's my wife Cho. If you got a real hot spot in the sun, be nice if you could tell me where it was."

Chwaer stood dumbstruck for a few seconds - evidently entirely derailed by their sudden appearance at her child-dominated gathering - and then bowed and smiled as her mental gears got going again. "Of course," she said quickly. "Upstairs are many spare bedrooms; the ones on the north side are the warmest, feel free to take over whichever one you like."

"Thanks," said Gwynt quickly, and peered inside with a look of vague horror. The sheer numbers of children running riot in there...and Cho might be pregnant but that was only one baby. Inside the house were even more than there were running around outside, and the ones inside were younger and noisier. "Please tell me these ain't all yours."

"Of course not," Chwaer chided kindly, waving them inside. "Ellone's daughter Ahnah is one year old today - it's her birthday party. You're looking for the stairs; those are to your left, near the back, go through the kitchen and there they are. Here, follow me."

Cho clearly did not want to be carried through the house; she was watching the sheer energy of the visiting children with a kind of wide-eyed tired fascination. She tugged on Gwynt's arm until he carefully set her down. As she walked at his side, bundled in all her winter gear, she did her best not to run into or trip over any of the playing children as Chwaer led them through the chaos and past the 'adult refuge' in the kitchen to the back stairs.

"You got stairs?" Gwynt asked quietly, knowing that the girls liked heights about as much as he liked enclosed spaces. "Never pegged you as one for heights."

"I'm not," said Chwaer firmly. "But we have a lot of guests, and I helped build this house. I know how sturdy it is. I don't stay up there long, but it's safe enough." She cast a glance at Cho. "Would you like a hand climbing the stairs? It can be an effort..."

Cho's pale features blushed scarlet, but Gwynt scooped her back up in his arms before she could do more than squeak a token protest. "Which way?" he said, climbing the stairs, as Cho started determinedly thumping his arms to get him to put her down - not that it worked.

Chwaer's amused bell-like laughter followed them. "To your right!"

"Put me down!" Cho hissed, having decided that thumping Gwynt's arms wasn't working. "Gwynt, it's embarrassing! I can walk, and handle stairs..."

Gwynt sighed and set her down. "Cho, they won't tease," he said quietly, leading the way down the hall. "Cari and Chwaer're probably the nicest people you'll ever meet, never seen 'em get mad at anyone, ever, even Daear." He opened a door, and nodded. "This'll work. Look, Cho - full sun, even."

The room had not been aired out; it was stiflingly hot and still, which was quite welcome to Cho. A queen sized bed was tucked into the corner, and a chair was by the window. The curtains were drawn back to let the sun in; Cho settled in the chair and Gwynt promptly yanked the blankets off of the bed to wrap around her - on top of her heavy winter clothing. And at last Cho was warm enough to stop shivering. "That's...a lot better, thank you," she said quietly.

Gwynt was at a loss - as he usually was, trying to sort out his wife's changing moods. Sometimes she wouldn't tolerate any conversation about her constant chill, and other times she very much appreciated anything he could think to suggest that might make her warmer. He wasn't good at tender words, or offering comfort, though he believed Cho would appreciate them. He settled on his knees in front of her, resting his head on the growing swell of her belly as he wrapped his arms around her. It would make her warmer, and it was the closest he could get to her these days, through the layers of clothing and blanket she needed to be warm. He listened to the heartbeats of Cho and the baby, and after a few moments Cho's hand carefully snaked out of the blankets to comb through his curls.

Then the door carefully opened, and a girl who looked like Chwaer in a dress, with long hair, stepped in. She smiled at the sight of them; Gwynt turned red and let Cho go, standing up - somewhat to Cho's disappointment. "I'm Cariad," she said softly, evidently delighted about something, though her demeanor was quiet. "You must be Cho?"

"Yes," said Cho, blushing a little. "I'm - sorry we were so quick to mess up the room..."

Cariad blinked, and then realized Cho was referring to the appropriated blankets. "Oh, don't worry about that," she assured. "I will get you more, if you'd like."

Gwynt nodded. "Might be a good idea," he said before Cho could speak. "Sun'll go down eventually."

"Gwynt," said Cho firmly. "I'm all right - there's no need to put anyone out."

Cariad settled on the edge of the bed, smiling. "It's no trouble. We've tried hard to make our house comfortable for as many people as possible. There are plenty of blankets - and no one else is staying overnight tonight."

Gwynt looked visibly relieved. "What's goin' on, anyway?"

"Ellone's daughter Ahnah's first birthday," said Cariad cheerfully. "We're holding a party for them - our house is larger, and there's more room for the children to play."

Gwynt blinked, surprised, and wondered if Irvine and Selphie had known. Cho saved him from any other speculations by saying, "So...our baby has a cousin?"

"Of a sort," Cariad agreed happily. "Though Ellone doesn't know she's our aunt. Father insisted. Still, Ahnah is such a cute baby - I really think you ought to meet her, but she's down for a little nap just now, before we do the cake and ice cream."

Gwynt moved to adjust some of Cho's blankets - mostly for something to do - but stopped when he saw his half-sister's too-knowing look. "I...ah, the others sent stuff for you," he said instead. "I'll go get it."

Getting out of the room was the first priority - he never felt more self-conscious than when presented with Cariad's cheerful intuitiveness. It felt like having everything in his heart written in large print on his forehead, and what was worse was knowing that the phrase trying to leap to his half-sister's lips was 'how cute!'

He spared no thought of abandoning Cho with her, though. The two would probably get along perfectly. He cleared the stairs by simply jumping from top to base, then wended his way through the child-filled chaos with the ease of a man who'd had to dodge far too many airline travelers at the Airstation.

It wasn't hard to get to the plane - once outside, he threw himself skyward and rode the wind to the airfield. He wasn't worried about the children who saw him; chances were good that unless the girls' powers were generally known and accepted in Winhill, any stories the children told wouldn't be believed. And in this little town, he didn't really care - even Daear hadn't bothered with Winhill. Not because it was unconquerable, but because - really, why bother? There was nothing in Winhill that could threaten any of them, and the townfolk hated SeeD enough that it was highly unlikely they'd involve the mercenaries in any of their problems.

Besides - it was good to be out in the fresh air. His half-sisters had done a lot more than he'd ever expected, building a two storey house, but they still favored narrow corridors and small rooms. There was just no getting around the fact that they and he were of opposite natures. Gwynt got the box of gifts for the girls, and the bags of his own and Cho's things, and flew - somewhat carefully - back to the house. Once there, he dodged the children - again - and climbed the stairs to the room they'd chosen. "There, got it all," he said, and only then realized the woman with Cho wasn't Cariad.

"Hello...Gwynt?" asked the older woman, holding out her hand. "I'm Ellone. Ellone Loire."

It was not the best time for him to suddenly be confronted with his only living human relative. He had no idea how he was supposed to deal with an aunt who didn't know she was an aunt - or for that matter, how to deal with one at all. So he reached out and shook her hand, carefully, but answered her greeting with only a nod and a low-voiced, "'lo."

Cho seemed relieved to see him - but then, to her, Ellone was a legendary figure; the only surviving child of Laguna Loire. "You got the clothes and all too?" she asked.

"Yep," he assured her, and this time had no problem standing protectively by her. Ellone's power wasn't seeing hearts but the past, and he wanted Ellone clear on how he felt about Cho. Though Ellone, too, seemed to find it endearing, or perhaps 'cute'.

She was quite composed, though, sitting on the stripped down bed, drinking a heavily iced glass of tea. "Cho was telling me that she's expecting in May?" she asked politely. At least, Gwynt hoped she was being polite.

"...Yeah," he agreed, on the grounds that that was probably true, though he didn't know for sure. He himself had been very premature, at least according to Daear's information, but he didn't know whether he would have been so in a more normal situation. Not that anything about me's all that normal...

He sank down onto the floor next to Cho's knees, leaning on her - or more accurately, pillowing himself on her blankets. Her hand soon snaked out to comb through his curls again - flying to and from the airfield had put them back into their perennial state of disarray, and sorting them out was one of her favorite idle pastimes.

"Will you be staying, then?" asked Ellone curiously. "Your sisters helped me with Ahnah, and they've been studying midwifery and basic medicine."

"Really?" asked Cho, interested.

But not half as interested as Gwynt, who quickly said, "Maybe," before Cho could make any kind of refusal. "Need to talk it over first."

"Well, you do that, then," said Ellone, realizing that Gwynt had exhausted his minimal stores of talk. "I need to get back to the party; it's time for cake and ice cream." With a smile, she added, "You're welcome to join us."

This time, Cho spoke for both of them. "That's all right," she said quietly. "We've had a very long trip, and - really, we'd just like to rest. Thank you anyway."

She waited until Ellone had left and closed the door behind her before she said, "What do you mean, maybe?"

Gwynt's arms went around her blanketed knees; he wasn't looking at her, but at the carpeted floor. "Cho...when it's time...you know we can't go to a hospital. If - if the baby was normal, you wouldn't be so cold."

"That doesn't stop us from hiring a private doctor," Cho protested reasonably. "Gwynt, I know we haven't got all that much money, but for this - really, my family would cover the expenses. They don't want me to die any more than you do, I'm sure."

"If you call in a doctor, Cho, I'm'a have to kill him after," Gwynt sighed. "I know it's like everybody knows about me, about my family, these days - but doctors are the last people we want spreading the word about us. He'd have to file a medical report, and even if he leaves out the important bits that's no guarantee he won't talk."

Cho's fingers in his hair were slow and careful. "...I see," she said. "But - Gwynt, this is all - I don't know that I can do this without some kind of help, and you don't have any more time to learn medicine..."

Gwynt reached up and disentangled her fingers, holding her hand in his. "That's why - I mean I have to talk it over with them first, but if Ellone's right and they've been learnin this stuff, I want you to stay here. With them. Till the baby's born."

"Here?" Cho blinked. "But - I've barely met them, they don't know me. Gwynt, we're on the other side of the world from home, I'd be away from you and everyone..."

"I know," he agreed miserably. "I don't want to be away from you - but I want you to get through this as easy as you can." He seemed to find her hand fascinating, talking mostly to it rather than her face. "I know you don't know 'em too well, but - well, the girls're the nicest people I know of anywhere, if they can make anything easy on you they'll bend over backwards to do it. I wouldn't leave you with anybody else."

"I don't want to be alone," Cho protested again, and this time Gwynt heard the tremulousness that said Cho was losing her internal battle for reason. He hated seeing her like this - the hormonal swings that were so unlike her taking control and making her almost into someone else entirely.

So he scooped her up, blankets and all, and laid her gently on the bed. She would sleep in her clothes, he knew - it was the only way she would be warm enough. He stripped down to boxers and laid down beside her, wrapping his arms around the blankets. "You're not alone," he assured her, trying not to sound too worried when he could hear her sniffling and crying quietly. She knew she was being sensitive, too, and hated it. Weepy little girl was not who she wanted to be, ever. The only thing he could do was hold her, and her blankets, and try not to let it get to him.

But where Cho was easily tired and soon fell asleep, Gwynt remained awake - thinking about how to handle something he knew was necessary, and that Cho wouldn't like.

* * *

The problem with jet lag was that it tended to completely screw up sleep schedules. Cho had gone to sleep in the early afternoon, Winhill time, so by dawn she was quite awake. And hungry. Gwynt had less trouble with the phenomenon since he required less sleep - which gave him a much wider window of adjustment - so when he felt Cho stirring awake he offered to cook her breakfast. He'd had to learn how, to let Cho stay in her blanket coccoon, but half of his reason for offering was knowing that what Cho would want to eat would probably turn his sisters' stomachs. Cariad couldn't bear to fight monsters even in self defense, and never ate meat. Lately, Cho's tastes ran to the hot and spicy. He ran the shower on full heat for a few minutes to steam up the bathroom, then helped Cho into a scalding hot bath that she still found cool. Then he pulled a pair of jeans on while he sorted out the piles of cloth (these belong to the girls, those belong to Cho, these are what she'll want today). That done, he helped Cho out of the bath and let her get dressed while he went down to get breakfast and coffee started. It was a routine of sorts; they'd established that Cho really did appreciate help getting into and out of the bath without slipping, and Gwynt was strong enough to do so easily.

Cho had taught him to cook, but Gwynt's tastebuds remained rather stubbornly Galbadian - sushi, sashimi, and wasabi were edible, to Gwynt's mind, but if you wanted tasty then it was bacon, sausage and eggs. All of which were on Cariad's "please not in my house" list, so Gwynt got coffee brewing and did his frying as quietly as could be managed, hoping to have breakfast made and devoured before his half-sisters woke. The idea of yogurt was enough to turn his stomach.

Quiet did mean not rummaging through cabinets looking for spices, though. Cho came down, dressed and wrapped in a quilt, and he laid out food for her at a spot in full morning sunlight. Unfamiliar as he was in many ways with the ways of the world, he was still smart enough to never, ever, comment on how much or how little Cho ate - though he did pay attention. Conversation could wait - they both knew they weren't really awake, and didn't want to wake the twins.

Of course, it couldn't last - the smell of the coffee and food alone was enough to rouse them. They came out of their bedroom in robes and slippers and sleep-clouded eyes, blinking at the tableau.

Then Cariad realized what was being cooked, and turned pale. "Oh, my."

"Mornin, girls," Gwynt managed, wishing he'd had time to finish his coffee. He nodded at Cariad before she could get too upset and upset Cho. "I know - y'hate the smell. Was hopin' to get 'em fixed an' done before you got up. Rabbit food's fine, but not for starters. 'Sides, Cho was hungry and hot food's best."

Cho, for her part, looked surprised and then resigned. "Gwynt, you should have told me."

"You'd'a missed breakfast," Gwynt replied, not even pausing. He knew the best way to deal with this was just to bull through it, before Cho's idea of courtesy and the twins' ideas of it met and caused too much confusion. "Don't tell me you're not hungry." He looked over at the twins, realizing they were awake and therefore available for questioning. "You guys got any tabasco?"

Chwaer stepped quickly to one of the cabinets, retrieving the hot sauce and holding it out. And blinked when she got a good view of Gwynt's bare chest. "When did you get that tattoo?" she asked.

"Cho gave it to me," said Gwynt, testing the tabasco sauce by putting a little on his finger and tasting it. "Mmm. Mild. Dam. Cho, you mind?"

Cho looked trapped for a moment, but quickly said, "No, I don't mind."

Cariad was apparently desperate to not think about cooking meat. "Cho gave it to you?" she asked.

Gwynt started scooping sausages, eggs and bacon onto a plate, holding the bottle of tabasco sauce in his fingers. "Yeah. Day I got my license. Scootch, wouldja, I need to get to the coffee. You two want anythin'? Wouldn't offer 'cept I'm already up anyhow."

Cariad moved quickly to the cupboard, pulling out a box. "I'll just have cereal, thanks," she said quickly.

Chwaer considered a moment, then shrugged. "I don't mind," she said. "It would be nice not to have to cook - but when did you learn how?"

Cho - who had layered tabasco sauce and pepper over everything and was testing the results - said, "I taught him." When Chwaer's look of shock registered, she clarified, "Before I got pregnant." She indicated the plate. "Hot food, spicy food...I'd heard cravings but nothing else tastes right any more."

Gwynt could see that Chwaer was going to ask what Cho used to eat, since Gwynt was preparing food primarily eaten in Galbadia, but Gwynt clicked his tongue loudly and shook his head at her. He well knew that getting Cho to think too much about 'before and after' types of things upset her badly. The changes were all gradual, but neither of them knew where they might stop - and that made analyzing them uncomfortable at the very least. He handed her a plate with some of everything on it, and said, "I ain't any kind o' gourmet, but if it's meat an' fire I do okay."

Chwaer gave her twin's shoulder a reassuring squeeze before taking a seat downwind. Gwynt had turned the smoke fans on now that they were all awake, so there was airflow in the room - which he wasn't happy about, as it would chill Cho, but Cariad had been known to get physically ill at such meals in the past. He took his own plate of food and cup of coffee and sat down at the table, across from Chwaer so that Cariad could hide behind her cereal box if she chose and not witness carnivorous acts.

"We got stuff for you two," he said between bites, to distract them as much as anything else. "Presents, numbers for Noddy, Daear, and Irvine." He paused, realizing he sounded really ungracious. "An' me, o'course. I'll get yours an' pass it around too, everybody keeps in touch."

Cariad's pale eyes peeked over the top of her cereal box, delighted. "Gwynt! I forgive you for eating bacon at my table. That's wonderful!"

Chwaer chuckled. "For my part - you do very well with 'meat and fire', and it was nice not to have to cook." She paused. "I take it you're the messenger, then? You'll take things back with you?" Gwynt, his mouth full of food, only nodded, and Chwaer fell silent as she focused on finishing her own breakfast. With Cariad awake, the idea was to finish breakfast as quickly as possible, so that the kitchen could be aired out. Cho looked uncomfortably aware of Cariad's distress - her expression promised Words for Gwynt as soon as they were alone.

Which Chwaer evidently noticed, as well. When she got up to put her cleared plate in the sink, she distracted Cho from her glare by calling her name. "Cho?" Attention gained, she said, "I do eat meat sometimes; normally I would prepare such on the grill outside, eat outside where the wind blows the scent away. That's all - and you would have been cold if Gwynt had done that, so it's all right that he didn't."

Cariad picked up her lead and nodded, though she was clearly far from happy. "Gwynt can air out the kitchen later - it's all right, really. It's much warmer inside, in the sun, than it is outside."

Cho's stern look softened, and she said 'Thank you," in softly accented Winhilli. Gwynt gave his sisters a look of pure relief and a mouthed thanks! when he got up to put his own dishes in the sink. The brief intervention had probably saved him from an hour of chiding. "Cho, if I gotta air out the kitchen, you wanna go upstairs an' get the things for the girls?"

"I'll go with you," Cariad offered. "I need to get the laundry for today sorted anyway."

Cho gave all three of them a look of exasperation. "Is this a conspiracy so I won't 'overexert'?" she asked. "I'll have you know I'm not an idiot. And I'm not made of glass, either."

"Of course not," said Cariad, cheerful again as she went back to her bedroom to get dressed. "Did I say I would carry anything? If you need my help I will help, but I won't help if you don't want me to."

Gwynt started cleaning up the mess he'd made in the kitchen as Chwaer followed her twin. There wasn't much - he'd been pretty careful - but it didn't distract Cho. "You didn't tell me Cariad was vegetarian," she said quietly. "Gwynt, she looked sick at what we were eating - and you want me to stay here?"

Gwynt washed quickly and moved near her, to speak quietly. "Cho, they'll take care of you. I didn't notice they'd an outdoor grill or I'd'a done the cookin out there. That's probably what they'll do for you, too - cook it outside. You saw - she wanted you comfy and happy, anyway. That's not bein' polite, Cho. They're not bein' polite. They really mean what they say, same as I do."

"I guess that's something, then," she admitted, leaning against his side. He ran his hand down her white hair, wishing he didn't have to push this point. He liked the idea of her being away even less than she wanted to go - but better a few months than forever.

"Only want you to be okay," he said quietly, and tried to be hopeful. "After...after the baby's born we'll all be back in Esthar..." but that was thinking too far ahead. He fell silent, and Cho was content to be held. A soft sound warned him that his sisters had returned, and he stepped back.

Cariad was clearly very close to saying "how sweet" - it was written all over her face that she thought it was all adorable - but Chwaer forestalled any comment by saying, "You may want to go upstairs, Cho. I must open the door so that Gwynt can blow the smell of breakfast outside."

Cariad took the hint and chirped, "And I have to take care of the laundry," as she sped up the stairs - a not unimpressive feat in a skirt.

Cho sighed and got to her feet - keeping her quilt wrapped tightly around her as she stepped toward the stairs herself. Gwynt watched with a frown as she climbed, then turned to Chwaer. "I can open my own doors," he said in a low voice.

"You're worried about her," Chwaer said just as quietly. "Possibly the only one who doesn't know is your lady wife, and that's only because she's not picking up cues reliably right now. Pregnancy will do that."

Gwynt bit his lip as Chwaer opened the kitchen door, letting the late summer heat in. Cho knew very well that he was worried. Both of them pretended things were fine anyway, most of the time. "She gets cold so easy," he admitted. "An' she won't give it up an' we can't go to a hospital - damnit, Chwaer, what if she dies?"

"Bring her back here when she's near due," Chwaer offered as Gwynt called a breeze in the room. "Cari and I have been studying midwifery, since before Ahnah was born. We'll do our best, and it's better than staying home."

The wind picked up as Gwynt's agitation affected his concentration. He knew this, from Ellone, but he needed them to agree, to help. And Cho wouldn't make it easy. "She ain't gonna wanna come. I wouldn't be able to be here. I got classes, an' bills, and she's got bills - shit, Chwaer, I been workin' every hour I can to cover it all, cos she can't fly like this."

Chwaer sighed. "You shouldn't have come, then," she said quietly. "If you need money this badly, you shouldn't have taken so many days off to come here. We weren't expecting you, so if you had waited we wouldn't have been hurt."

Gwynt's face reddened as the wind blew. "Cho said that too," he admitted. "But I promised Taran. I said I'd find everybody, deliver things as often as I had the time and cash. I had the cash saved up...an' I wanted her to meet you guys. She's only met Noddy so far." And his promise gnawed at him if he thought of not-quite-keeping it. There was no way he could break it, or even bend it. He wondered if Chwaer knew about that pull to obey, but when they heard movement on the stairs she moved to close the door and Gwynt let his winds fall to stillness.

"Here we are," said Cariad lightly as she entered the kitchen, carrying a box which she set on the table. "My - you've been around a lot, haven't you?"

Gwynt nodded as Cho set a second box beside the first and quickly sat down. Cariad climbed back up the stairs again and threw a blanket down to Gwynt, who caught it and wrapped it around his shivering wife. Cariad then came back down with a truly prodigious number of blankets and towels in her arms, which she dropped in a corner of the kitchen. "Those are for washing," she explained.

"May we open the boxes?" Chwaer asked. "Or did you want to present the things inside?"

Gwynt stared until he realized he was being teased, then waved his hand at the boxes. "G'wan an' open 'em yourselves," he said. "I ain't got ya nothin. I'm up to my ears just with delivery. I'll tell ya who they're from when you get to 'em."

Cariad opened her box first, her pale eyes widening at the packets of seeds. "These are Balambese," she said. "Oh, I need to put these in a greenhouse. They'd never survive the winters here."

"Noddy," said Gwynt. "Those're from Noddy."

"As this must be," laughed Chwaer, pulling a stuffed chocobo out of her own box. "Oh, it's adorable. I don't think Noddy would mind if I let Ahnah play with it?"

Gwynt shrugged; his attention was mostly on Cho - standing behind her, helping to hold the heavy quilt in place around her shoulders. He knew perfectly well what was in most of the boxes, after all. Cho smiled a little and remarked, "I don't think he would mind at all, from what I saw of him."

"But what are these?" asked Cariad, lifting out a large envelope.

"From Daear," Gwynt explained to his sisters' expressions of surprise. "She found out who you used to be. Who your mama was. It's all there - names, pictures, everything she could find. She said this is the only present you get, ever, so..." he shrugged. "Oh - 'fore I forget. You two are aunts. Daear had a daughter some while back. Named her Nissa. She doesn't have eyes like any of ours, but she's got everybody that sees her charmed. Daear figures that's her power."

Chwaer took the envelope as Cariad looked ready to burst with sheer delight. "Aunts?" she asked. "We're aunts? Oh, Chwaer, can we not go and visit? Surely Daear would let us see her?"

Chwaer shook her head. "I doubt it," she demurred. "Daear has always been very possessive. And Cari, remember how hard it was to get here. Deling City is a very long trip."

"Well, at least we can send presents for Nissa," said Cariad decisively. "You'll take them, won't you, Gwynt? Deliver them?"

"Yeah, I'll deliver whatever you want," he agreed quietly. In all honesty, he pitied his niece. Having Daear for a mother, and that idiot Garrett for a father, would really make life hard for her. "Just don't take too long gettin' it together. It's a long trip and we can't stick around for days while you shop."

Chwaer looked into the boxes, and lifted out a smaller, wooden box. "What is this?" she asked curiously.

"Irvine an' Selphie's present to both of you," Gwynt said shortly. "They found 'em in a box in a dig in Trabia - you know, where they're buildin' the dock town for Trabia Garden." Irvine had been damn smug, presenting it, too. He'd had a job keeping the box out of the hands of Garden scientists, and had said that if it was something that could grow, either Cariad would make it grow or it was useless anyway. And then said if it was useless, get it back to him so the scientists could play with the DNA.

Cariad took an object from the box; it was roundish, and very hard. She tested it with a squeeze. "It isn't rock," she said slowly. "A...nut?"

"Box of nuts," Gwynt clarified. "They think different kinds. A breeder's store. Old as sin, though. They was in a stop-box."

"Breeder's store?" asked Chwaer, then her jaw dropped as comprehension dawned. "Gwynt - Irvine found chocobo nuts? I spoke with spirits in eternity who knew about them, but they're gone! All the chocobo nuts are gone!"

Gwynt grinned. "Not all of 'em. You two got the last nuts right there. At least, the last nuts anybody knows about. Somebody up north musta bred chocobos a long time ago. Lots of chocobos. They kept the nuts in the stop-box, so Irvine an' Selphie think they're fresh enough to use. If Cari can make 'em grow into bushes, or trees, or whatever they're supposed to be, then you two'll have the only place in the world with old style chocobos." Which was what Irvine wanted - the man had a soft spot for chocobos.

Chwaer was peeking into the box again, and lifted out a smaller envelope. "And this?"

"Selphie," said Gwynt. "Baby pictures. Of their kid - Remus. That oughta be everything."

"It is more than we could have hoped," breathed Cariad, apparently torn between wanting to examine the chocobo nuts and wanting to flip through baby pictures. "Gwynt, Cho, thank you. Thank you so much for bringing these things!" She set her things down on the table and caught her twin's arm. "Chwaer, we must return the favor! And we can't keep them waiting." Turning back to Gwynt and Cho, she said, "Please - make yourselves at home. Ellone should be coming by later - let her in, and we'll be back in a bit."

"Cari!" Chwaer chided as she was almost dragged from the house.

Cho laughed a little as the front door closed. "Well...that was fun."

Gwynt blinked, distracted from his own worries. "Yeah...guess it was."

* * *

The two of them settled in the living room to wait for the twins' return, Cho wrapped in blankets and snuggled in the sun from the windows, using Gwynt as a sort of living pillow. The living room was the largest and most open room, able to handle many guests, and Gwynt found it the most comfortable place to be. Now and again they talked about Cho coming here to stay for a few months, debating back and forth - but when Cho realized that Gwynt had made up his mind and wasn't going to be swayed she fell rather unhappily silent. So it was that when someone knocked on the door, Gwynt was willing to disentangle himself to go answer it.

Ellone was on the other side, with a bowl of salad and a look of surprise. "Oh - Gwynt," she said, making sure of his name. He nodded. "I - are the girls out? Only I was so tired after the party yesterday, they said I could come back for little Ahnah's presents..."

Gwynt, at a loss for what the proper thing to do might be, just opened the door and let Ellone inside. "They went out shoppin for stuff for me to take back to the others," he said tersely. "They'll be back in a while."

"Is that your daughter?" asked Cho, curious, from her cocoon of blankets.

"Yes, I thought I should bring her," said Ellone. "The girls love to see her...oh my," she paused as she saw the small pile of gifts. "I should have brought a cart," she finished. "I must have been very tired not to see how big the pile was."

Gwynt leaped on the chance to do something. "I'll help," he offered. "I'll carry some o' the stuff."

Cho looked hurt. "Gwynt..."

Ellone became aware that there was a disagreement going on. She looked from one to the other, holding Ahnah in her arms, and decided. "Cho? Would you look after Ahnah for me for a few minutes while I borrow your husband?" she asked brightly, in tones that said, so I can have a few words with him?

To this, Cho was agreeable, though still not happy. "Oh...of course."

Gwynt went to the small mound of presents and started stacking, as Ellone settled Ahnah on Cho's blankets. Between Gwynt and Ellone, the pile soon vanished, but Ellone said nothing until they were outside. "Now, what are you two arguing about?" she asked. "Cho's a very nice girl, holding up very well."

Aunt. She doesn't know it, but she's my aunt. And she was certainly very different from his father. "It's - the baby," he muttered. "The girls offered to take care of her till the baby's born but she don't wanna come. Don't wanna leave Esthar."

"Well, Winhill is very different from Esthar," Ellone agreed amiably. "I lived there, off and on, for several years - remember?"

With Laguna, in the Presidential Palace. Gwynt nodded; Ellone was still famous, there. "But - the baby's like me," he pointed out. "If it's born in Esthar..."

"Oh, yes," frowned Ellone. "Those genetic property laws. So you and the twins are some of Odine's experiments too? Or is that just what the courts would claim?"

"Don't know," Gwynt admitted. "But that's probably what they'd say - an' Cho's family's all noble and they really don't like me."

"Can't imagine why," said Ellone innocently. "Well - yes, given your situation, for her to stay here is best - but she needs you, too. Don't make it look like you're sending her away." Her expression turned sad. "You have no idea how much you can lose, doing that."

"As long as I don't lose her," snapped Gwynt. "She can hate me or never wanna talk to me again and that's all right, but I don't want her to die cos of this baby."

"I see," Ellone remarked, and led the way in silence to her house. She indicated where Gwynt could place his portion of the gift pile, but said nothing else until they were on their way back. "Don't abandon her," she said firmly. "Whether she comes here, or not - don't abandon her."

Gwynt wasn't sure what to make of that. Abandon her? Why would he do that? He wouldn't want her to come here, so far from home, if it weren't the best chance for her to be healthy, to survive this baby that was freezing her slowly. He wasn't his father, to get women pregnant and then be glad when they died.

Cho, when they returned, was holding Ahnah with a bemused expression. "Ellone," she asked, "Is Ahnah psychic?"

"The twins think so," Ellone nodded, somewhat sadly. "And I've begun to agree with them. She communicates very well for such a young girl." She picked her daughter up and received a delighted squeal in response. "You were good, weren't you?" she asked the child. "Very good?"

"Yes," Cho responded for her. "She..." she paused, as Gwynt got settled in next to her again. "She talked to the little one," she said quietly, mostly to Gwynt. "I held her, and - I'm sure they were talking."

Gwynt wasn't sure what to make of that, but he'd heard lots of stories from Laguna about Ellone's odd powers - he'd more than once gotten the idea his grandfather was trying to say that he and his siblings weren't that unusual, really, when you got down to it. Ellone had the power to show people the past, their own or someone else's. Just being telepathic was hardly anything by comparison, though a child that was only a year old being telepathic was unnerving. "What about?" he asked. What would an unborn baby have to say?

"I don't know," Cho admitted. "But the baby calmed down and Ahnah was very quiet and serious..."

Which could just be a sleepy baby, but Cho was used to things being other than they seemed where Gwynt was concerned, and she was probably right. Still, it was an odd question to consider - what a one year old would say to a baby not yet born.

Ellone got up to get some iced tea, and the three of them talked it over for a while - speculations ranging from warnings about birth to lullabies, to at one point debating if Ahnah knew what Cho's baby would be able to do when born. Gwynt and Cho found it very odd to be talking to someone who found unusual gifts and powers to be entirely acceptable and even normal, and it was not without regret that they said their goodbyes when it was time for her to go.

* * *

Gwynt spent some time getting their own things onto the plane, and a little while later the twins breezed in - their arms overflowing with presents. A stuffed dog for Remus, a new hat for Irvine, a small stained glass window for Selphie (carefully wrapped against breaking), a stuffed tonberry toy for Nissa and a carefully wrapped crystal lantern for Daear, a small travel harp for Taran and a video disc of Winhilli dances for Nodwydd. Gwynt took one look at the largess and gawked, incredulous. "Okay, you girls did know about weight limits on planes right? What is all that?"

"Gifts!" Cariad supplied, cheerfully and unhelpfully, and Cho started laughing.

"We can carry them," she said, still in a good mood from Ellone and Ahnah's visit. Gwynt stared at her as if he'd never seen her before.

"All right," he said slowly. "But - hope you two're willing to carry those things to my plane. Cos I'm gonna have my arms full."

That killed Cho's giggles. "I can walk perfectly fine," she insisted. "You're not carrying me again, Gwynt."

"You're not gettin' wore out," Gwynt insisted. "Sides. This way I can wrap you all up snug an' warm an' give the quilts back to the girls when we get to the plane."

"Oh, no," Chwaer insisted. "You're welcome to the quilts for now - you can return them when next you visit. Surely it's very cold up so high?"

"There, see, all settled," said Gwynt quickly, and before Cho could protest again he scooped her up - quilts and all - into his arms. "Already got our stuff on the plane," he informed them. "So if you two'll just take your loot an' follow me..."

He led the two girls across town to the airfield, the Cho-carrying leader of a short and package-laden troupe. The Shooting Star was waiting for them, the purple Observer basking in the sun.

"That...can only be your plane," said Cariad faintly, evidently finding the bright yellow shooting stars painted on the wings to be unpleasant.

"Yep," Gwynt agreed, ignoring Cho's determined thumps on his grip. They were here, and she wanted to walk on her own two feet. "The Shooting Star. Not bad for a starter plane." He adjusted the squirming Cho in his arms to open the hatch. "And I left her in the sun so she oughta be nice an' toasty."

The plane was indeed quite hot, much to Cho's delight, and the twins set their presents into stasis-chests built into the hold. "I thought these were expensive?" Chwaer asked curiously. "I was looking into getting a few for chocobo greens."

"Yeah they're expensive," Gwynt agreed as Cho - clearly annoyed with his fussing - began the internal preflight checks. "But they ain't mine. Property o' the Airstation. I fly cargo most of the time, see. I sell this plane, those chests come out to finish out some other plane. Your stuff'll be safe in them." He waved his hands at them. "Was a nice enough visit," he said, "but we gotta get goin'. Shoo. I gotta do the external preflight 'afore Cho decides to fly my plane off without me."

"And wouldn't you deserve it, too!" was Cho's remark from the cockpit as the twins laughed.

Cariad and Chwaer filed out - not needing a reminder, when the hot August sun was warmer than the interior of the Shooting Star - and Gwynt started checking over the outside of his plane. The girls were talking, but he was absorbed in checking fuel levels and the general physical integrity of his aircraft. It was a long trip back to Esthar - but no good pilot ever took his plane for granted. Assured that the plane was in airworthy condition, he gave his sisters a wave goodbye and got inside the oven-hot plane.

"I ought to leave you on the ground to fly home on your own," Cho chided. "You didn't have to carry me all the way across town."

"Needed to get back fast," said Gwynt, after they were at cruising altitude. "Need to get you moved."

Cho sighed unhappily. "I really don't want to," she said sadly. "No reflection on your sisters, they're very nice, but it's not home."

"Cho..." said Gwynt slowly. "You want to keep this baby. I want to keep you. This is what's gonna have to be, for both of us to get what we want."

"You could miss the birth, so far away," Cho protested.

"I won't," said Gwynt firmly. "I promise, Cho. Call my cell, or have the girls do it, the minute you start feelin uncomfy - hell or high water, I'll come. I'll come even if I blow towns off the coast doin it."

It was a binding promise, and Gwynt knew it. It reassured Cho; although the heat did not lessen in the stifling cockpit, the tension did. She knew she could rely on his promises.