Just so that it's known, i love this book. It is my favourite book in the whole world, and that's saying something because i've read a lot, including the Harry Potter series. I love it. That being said, i want to respect the characters for what they are - complicated. Flawed. Beautiful. If you think i'm straying into what i want the character to be, rather than what they are, feel free to call me out for it - i'll appreciate any constructive advice. I tried to create the events in this fiction realistically - please review!

p.s: i obviously don't own any of these complicated, flawed, beautiful characters, or i'd be glowing with pride at my own genius.

It was said red morning light was a sign of change in the near future. Whether the change was good or bad, it was hard to tell, but change was sure on the horizon if the sun fell through your windows in streaks of flame. That was how Fire awoke, with the curtains already open and letting morning kiss her on the cheeks. Brigan was having a rare spell of free time, just in time for Nash and Mila's wedding, but even so he was up long before his wife. The Kingdom had been planning the event for a year, the florists preparing their best flowers for the streets, the women sewing and mending their best dresses for the balcony appearance of the newlywed couple. Fire swung her legs around the side of the bed and was just about to stand when a group of women burst into her rooms, Musa at the head with Mila following closely behind with a determined expression.

"Lady Fire," greeted Musa tightly "I apologise for the intrusion, but Mila refuses to desist in her duties for today. I thought you could resolve the matter." Just then, Clara charged through the open doors with a look of thunder on her face; little Aran followed unsteadily behind. He was looking more and more like Archer every day.

"Oh, Rocks." Muttered Mila, shuffling nervously on the spot and looking like she was regretting her decision to escape already.

"What are you doing here?" Clara fumed – her cheeks were pink and her dress was crumpled and dirty at the bottom "It takes a good half-hour to get a bride into her dress, and that's just a Lord's wedding."

"It's my job to guard the Lady Princess." Mila replied to all of them stubbornly "And today, I intend to do my job."

"It's your wedding!" Yelled Clara "You are marrying the King – you can't guard Lady Fire today."

"I can and will." Mila replied calmly. Fire walked silently over to Clara and laid her hand on Clara's arm to silence her.

"Mila, you must dress." Fire said quietly, but her voice carried to every ear – she had picked it up from being around Brigan for so long "However, I recognise your wish to fulfil your duties one last time. I will follow you today, everywhere you go – I will be your guard." She finished simply with the smallest of smiles. Mila smiled gratefully back.

"I'd like that very much." Mila nodded with tears in her eyes. The rest of the morning was spent following Mila around, to the baths first, then her private rooms where she was slowly, carefully dressed in her wedding gown. It was a stunning thing, decorated with expensive lace, and had a train longer than Fire was tall. As soon as Mila was in the gown, she was hidden by a swarm of hairdressers, pulling and pinning back her hair until she was barely recognisable. Fire had her dress brought to Mila's rooms; it was a plain thing, as frumpy and colourless as the situation allowed – Fire didn't want people looking at her when they should be looking at the bride. The last thing Fire did before Mila was called was tie a clean scarf around her hair and then they were off.

It had been a struggle for Mila to be accepted as the new Queen; she was nothing more than an army soldier, and already had one child though she was unmarried and young. It was considered inappropriate, or pointless, or just frowned upon – but Nash married for love, like Brigan had, and the people eventually accepted the inevitable: and that had been good enough for Nash.

Fire followed Mila out of her dressing rooms and quickly made her way to the great hall where the wedding was to take place. It was a place of beauty and light, that morning – everyone was bathed in the Dells. As Fire entered, a woman with brown hair turned to look at her, and the angle of her head was such to make her hair look red, too. Fire smiled faintly to herself; for a second, she could imagine that this woman, this stranger, was also a monster like her. That she was not alone in the world. Despite her wishes, Fire still felt as if there were a weight in her heart every time she caught a flash of her own blood red hair in the corner of her eye, and knew that she was the last of her kind, or felt an ache, deeper than any bodily wound, whenever she saw Hanna and saw how much she had grown. Fire would never have children. There would be no more monsters, and even though Fire knew that what she had done was right, she regretted it every day of her life.

"You look happy." Brigan said beside her. Without realising it, Fire had wandered her way up the aisle and come to where Brigan was standing with Garan.

"I am happy." She replied, and took his hand on hers, bringing it to her lips and kissing it for strength. Fire corrected herself – she was not alone. She had Brigan. She had her step-daughter, Hanna. She had love in her life, which is more than some others had. Brigan looked at her in concern.

Are you well? He asked her silently.

I am happy, she repeated, then let his hand fall to his side, taking her seat in the royal box. Brigan sat down next to her silently, but let his remaining feeling of concern known to her. For a second, he let her see what he saw – her flushed cheeks and pale lips – but she blocked it out quickly. Even looking so flustered, her own beauty still made her heart beat faster. Fire squeezed Brigan's hand in reassurance. He opened his mouth to say something, but just in time Hanna bounded in with her relentless energy. Even though, along with everyone else, she had grown two years older, she had lost none of what she had at the age of five. It always struck Fire how like Brigan she looked – she was never going to be beautiful in the way that Clara was, nor would she be handsome like her grandmother – her face had a certain interest about it, a wildness and fierceness that was as endearing as it was exhausting. Every now and again, Fire found herself picking out features that must have belonged to Hanna's mother – the colour of her hair, the tilt of her cheekbones, even her eye colour.

"Hanna, you have been dressed for all of a few hours, and already you have dirtied yourself." Fire tutted, interrupting Brigan's half-formed words. It was true; Hanna's lavender purple dress, made especially for her Uncle's wedding, already had a small tear in one elbow and dirt marks around the hem.

"I don't understand why I can't wear trousers, like Papa." Hanna sulked. As well as being stuffed into a gown, she had had to undergo the torture of having her hair properly brushed and done up with pretty, girlish ribbons that matched her dress but didn't match its wearer.

"Because it's not proper." Brigan replied "Sit down, Hanna, it's about to start." Hanna opened her mouth to protest, but Brigan silenced her with a look "This is the King's wedding," he said lowly "you will respect the occasion." Hanna bowed her head and sat on the chair next to Brigan.

I'll help you take the ribbons out tonight, Fire promised to Hanna, and she saw Hanna beam into her lap next to Brigan. Just as Fire thought she had gotten out of a conversation with Brigan, he turned his head and gave Fire the same look that he often gave his daughter when she had done something wrong but he didn't have time to reprimand her – the look that said 'this is not done'. And Fire, very deliberately, turned her head and surveyed the other guests uncaringly.

Fire went through the long ceremony with Brigan holding her hand tightly, a silent, strong support.

"Did you eat this morning?" Brigan asked suddenly.

No. Fire replied mentally, not trusting her voice in the silent hall in which the closing lines of the ceremony were being performed, I didn't feel well. Brigan was worrying again in an instant.

Do you want me to call a healer? He asked immediately, his hand tightening on Fire's. Fire rubbed her thumb over his hand soothingly.

Nonsense – I feel fine now, see? Fire laughed mentally and Brigan's hand relaxed. And then the whole thing was over and they were heading to the balcony. Fire filed in behind Mila and Mila looked around, smiling and glowing with joy. Fire nodded and Mila turned back to stare lovingly at Nash. The doors were flung open and the roars of every person in the Kingdom attacked Fire's ears. She flinched but carried on walking, smiling and trying to send as much attention to Mila as she could. It was when Fire was looking out over the crowd that it happened; her vision tipped and whirred and her legs folded underneath her. Her world, for what felt like a mere second, went black.

Fire awoke in hers and Brigan's rooms. Someone had put her in a soft nightgown, and her gown hung over the back of a chair. There were low voices coming from behind a room divide.

"Brigan?" Fire called doubtfully, and his dark head appeared from behind the divide. Fire smiled, but it fell off her face when she saw his expression – the expression in those eyes. A woman in green healer's robes disappeared into the hallway.

"Brigan?" Fire repeated, her body frozen in terror "What's wrong? Am I ill?"

"No," Brigan replied in a shell-shocked voice "no, you're not ill."

"Then what's wrong?" Fire pressed "Rocks, Brigan, tell me what's happened!"

"There's been a mistake," he said slowly, sitting down next to her on the bed "or rather, an unexpected occurrence. The herbs you took to stop you from having children – it seems they've stopped working."

"You mean," Fire stuttered "you mean I'm. . . ?" Brigan nodded, but his eyes were wary "I'm with child?" Fire finished, just to make sure she wasn't being misunderstood – Brigan nodded. He was waiting for her reaction. But Fire couldn't help it; this was bad, very bad, but she still couldn't help it. She smiled. And then she laughed, and threw her arms around Brigan's neck, kissing him.

"I know I should be so unhappy," Fire whispered when she broke free "but I can't – I have always longed for children!"

Everyone was shocked into silence. Fire had been ordered not to move from her and Brigan's chambers – pregnancy after taking the herbs, the healer had told her, had never happened before and they were not sure how the pregnancy would sit in Fire's body. She needed to take care and rest a lot, and tell the healers if she felt anything unusual. The whole Royal family had been battering at the doors, with only Fire's guards (under strict orders from Brigan not to let anyone, not even the King, in) protecting Fire from the onslaught. But Fire had told Brigan to let them in – they needed to know, and sooner rather than later.

Surprisingly, Garan was the first to speak.

"We need to keep this a secret from as many people as possible." He muttered. Fire recognised what she called his 'spy-face' – when he was thinking about the welfare of the Kingdom. Normally, she would tease him, but this was no game – this was Fire's child. For the first time, Fire was scared of Garan.

"Of course," Clara agreed, standing next to her twin thoughtfully "Fire would be in danger if any of our enemies found out." Fire knew this already – it had all gone though her mind, the troubles this would cause, the danger and difficulty, and possible heartbreak. But none of it could compare to her joy – for she had been given back something she had thought she had lost. She just wished someone else would see it in that way too – Brigan had been silent after he had explained what had happened, and she didn't dare dip into his mind; she already knew it would be an impenetrable wall. All over again, Fire felt alone.

"But how?" Nash cut in "This isn't a wound we're trying to hide. It's a baby. It can't stay hidden forever."

"We have kept Hanna protected so far." Garan said "It is not impossible."

"But the mother was not known!" Nash insisted, with a quick glance at Brigan "Fire is constantly seen – she's impossible to avoid! People would notice pregnancy signs, and they would notice her absence." Nash had a point.

"So what are our options?" Brigan quietly asked. Fire turned terrified eyes on him – why did that sentence make her blood run cold? What could he mean?

"We know the most obvious option." Clara said into the long silence. She didn't look Fire in the eyes.

"No." Fire said immediately, loudly "This is my child. Your niece." She said, looking at the occupants of the room "Family. If you try to take her away from me, I will. . ." Fire stopped. What would she do? Kill the King? Attack her sister Clara?

"It is incredible enough that this happened," Brigan said "and we don't know how. For all we know, Fire's body would be a battleground – why send it more medical probing to contend with?"

"So we'll have to hide it." Clara finished "We can fabricate some illness. Something that needs bed rest."

"No, it needs to be slower." Fire interrupted "It's too suspicious – a sudden illness, and then, nine months later, a sudden recovery? It needs to be gradual – people need to see me getting ill."

"Yes," Garan said curtly "but we're worried about what else they'll see."

"I hardly wear clingy dresses," Fire snapped "I can hide it for a little white at least. Long enough, anyway." Garan sighed. Fire knew he was just trying to do his job – but she wasn't some stupid woman. She knew what hung on this child remaining hidden, just as much as he did.

"But, oh, Fire," Mila whispered into the heavy silence, gripping Fire's hand from where she sat by her beside "this is wonderful!" she looked so happy, with her innocent smile, still dressed in her wedding gown, and Fire began to cry, big fat tears of joy leaking down her cheeks.

That night, Brigan didn't come to bed. Fire searched for him – she searched on the roof, where the warm summer breeze could clear a troubled mind, or in the training yard, where Brigan liked to fight through any troubles he may have, and by the kitchens, in case he had gone searching for something to eat, but he was nowhere to be found. Fire even searched the dark corridors of the guests' rooms, mostly empty around this time of year in the palace, but they were still cold and empty as before.

"Do not worry, Lady." Musa had softly whispered as Fire headed back to her own rooms "sometimes, a person needs to be alone. He will come back." Fire nodded, but she felt lost. Brigan had never not slept in her bed before – even after their worst fights, when neither party wanted to speak to the other, he still came back to her at the end of the day, before the sun had set, to forgive or beg for forgiveness. Fire looked out of her window – the moon shone in the sky, and still Brigan was gone. Fire feared that, in gaining the one thing her body yearned for above all else, she had lost the thing her heart craved.

When Brigan returned, he radiated cold. Fire knew as soon as he came close to their rooms – she had been monitoring the halls restlessly, watching for his mind to pass by. She didn't move when he entered their rooms – she pretended to be asleep, curled up over the covers like a cat. Brigan walked over to his side of the bed and stood there. Fire waited.

"Fire," he said in a casual voice "Fire, I know you're awake."

Then you know I have been waiting for you, she replied, not trusting her voice.

"I needed to think." He sighed, sitting down on the bed. Fire didn't move.

Where were you? She asked, I searched for you. I thought you had gone.

"Never." He whispered "I would never leave you."

You just did, Fire shot back childishly. Brigan sighed again.

"It was a shock." Brigan admitted, almost to himself "I thought – I never – it was impossible. Impossible. But it's happened. And it's difficult – it's dangerous, and you could easily die if anyone found out." Brigan took hold of Fire in his arms and lifted her so that their faces were centimetres away "But, Fire, if you imagined for a second that this is a bad thing then you are wrong. I am so happy," Brigan let a small smile loose "I am going to be a father again." Fire grinned, and kissed him.

"And Hanna will have a sibling." She said "Someone to play with and care for."

"Hanna." Brigan pulled away with a worried frown "I have worried about her too. How will she react? Jealousy is so easy when you're a child."

"I have no worries for Hanna." Fire said confidently "She is a mature child, wise beyond her years when she needs to be. And she has a loving heart. She will understand."

"You will tell me," Brigan demanded, resting his hands on Fire's stomach "if you need anything at all? If anything happens, with the baby or at all, you tell me immediately, no matter what, you understand?"

"Yes, my love." Fire smiled, and kissed his serious nose.

"Mila is worried about you." Brigan admitted, bending his head so that he could look into Fire's eyes "Nash is worried about me. And Garan is worried about everything."

"I've ruined their day." Fire realised out loud "Their wedding day."

"Nonsense." Brigan said briskly "Do you remember our wedding day?"

"Yes." Fire said, smiling "You were still bleeding from a fresh wound and we had to call a healer half way through the ceremony. I thought you were going to die, you were so pale."

"There was no way I was going to die before I was married to you." He rumbled, gently laying her down and wrapping his arms around her so that his hands met over her stomach and his nose was nuzzling her hair "They're worried because they love you. I'm worried – because I love you."

"Then it's decided." Fire stated "Love is worry. And Dells knows I've had enough worry in my lifetime." Brigan laughed, and kissed her neck.

"Now go to sleep, my love." He crooned, and suddenly Fire's eyes were unbearably heavy.

"Goodnight." She just whispered, and closed her eyes.

What do you think? Honesty, please!