I’m grateful for my mate and Ogarrex finding a hunting sled for me versus having to walk all the way from the house to the village’s hub. The journey takes the better part of an hour, heavily pregnant and the exhaustion I suddenly feel must show on my face. I fuss a little, for show, but I am definitely not at my best today.
A sharp pain in my side only further ratchets up my pounding heart, anxiety riding me hard as I call out for them to stop just outside the twin rock glaciers leading into the circular opening. Fafnir gives me a questioning look from atop Valoryx, who is thankfully being oh so very careful with his deathtrap tail, where the leads to the sled are attached to the thick spikes like a multi-looped harness.
“I want to walk from here,” I offer, trying not to grunt as I struggle to get myself standing.
His eyes shine with as much pride as they do disapproval. The giant horned man is at my side before I can wobble far, leering like always. I don’t shoo him today, but press myself closer, letting him help me into the clearing. It was shocking at first, relating this place to the one I witnessed during the start of winter when I arrived. Where it was desolate before, it’s a frenzy now. Loud drinking, plates piled high of food that never seem to end, rich colored fabrics, and finely carved wares being traded at little booths set around the clearing.
Elat sees me from hers, waving happily, where she makes the prettiest handmade brushes and fine, wooden dyed jewelry. Of which, thanks to Fafnir, I have an expansive collection now. I want for nothing and have so much more than I ever thought possible. Is that terribly selfish, to want just a little more?
Is it selfish to ask him to run with me?
Knowing how it would wound him, dismantle his honor, his pride… knowing if I only asked, he would say yes.
It seems unfair.
But so does everything else about this too.
My entire life seems unfair. Poverty just because I am human. Selling myself off to be bred because there are no proper opportunities for us. Dad taking his own life because his future looked so bleak, him leaving Mom to wipe the gore from the walls in his shed, leaving us to pick up the pieces of our family. Finding everything I never knew I wanted right before I lose all of it.
My heart is beating so fast that my head feels faint as we enter the large building that makes up the very lifeblood of this place. Helgoid sits on her chair at the head of the table whittling something and my stomach lets off another ungodly spasm. The baby has been quiet today, the last few really, but the healer assured us everything is fine. He is simply running out of room.
I decide then I don’t care if it’s selfish.
I don’t care what I’m asking for or if it’s too much.
For once, I’m going to have my cake and eat it too.
“Fafnir, Lenora.” She greets us, rising from her spot, a faint but fond smile on her face. I wonder how long it will last. Outward affection, or any affection at all, isn’t something frowned upon per se for the Bhaurnul people, but they give it sparingly. It makes it feel so much more special, genuine.
“Elder Helgoid,” Fafnir greets.
There’s a ringing in my ears as Ogarrex joins us in front of her. Her fond smile turns to a frown.
“Something has happened?” She questions, pulling her aged hands behind her back.
“No- well, not really. I—’ I stumble over my words for a moment before pulling in a deep breath. Only Fafnir’s and Ogarrex’s support making the next few flow smoothly. “Helgoid, I have spent the last year working with a renowned Kalzait Doctor—’
She steps forward, placing her hands on my stomach, worry clear in her eyes. “Are you well? The healer said it has been a difficult pregnancy by human standards, but the kit is—’
I place my hand over hers, her eyes widening as the baby gives a little shove against our palms. “We are fine. More than fine, really, and so are Fafnir and Ogarrex because of the work we’ve been doing.”
It’s like someone clicks a button, flips some kind of switch, and I try not to take it personally as she withdraws her hands, glaring at Ogarrex. “You are war touched.” It’s an accusation.
He only nods, leaving me to explain.
Lovely.
Everything that leaves me next comes out a little too fast, a little too rushed in my breathless state, but my hands are shaking. My whole body is tense and uncomfortable. It feels like someone is twisting a blade in my side. I do my best to ignore that. One train wreck at a time. “We, with his help, have been studying the effects and possible treatment of war madness—’
“You cannot treat war madness.” She cuts me off, taking a step back as if I’ve said something entirely ridiculous. I assume to her it is.
Dread builds deep in my gut, souring my breakfast. “But you can. You’re looking at the evidence of that. Fafnir should be beyond reach by now. He is not because we have a treatment plan and it’s working for him. For them both. It can work for others too. War madness is not a disease of the spirit or body, it’s an affliction of the mind. Trauma brought on by war.”
“Stop.” She breathes.
I don’t, taking a step toward her and fuck the desperation shows in my voice. “Humans call it PTSD, but it goes by many names for many species. All can experience it, it’s treatable. With the right doctor and therapy, it can vastly improve the quality of life for the person suffering. We think it destabilizes the berserker in your males, which is why it affects them so heavily.”
“You think. There is no cure for war madness!” She booms, making me flinch, and the males behind me step forward, snarling.
She watches them closely, and I know what she sees there. Control. Golden untouched eyes.
“Dr. Univos is sure of it, but he needs more Bhaurnul males to test—’
She shakes her head, flustered. “No.”
“You need to listen; we can save people. We can stop the hunts. No more males lost to wandering.”
“I said no. It is impossible. I will not have my people be given false hope because some off world doctor thinks he can solve an issue that has decimated our numbers for generations!”
My entire body seems to bottom out, panic gnawing at my chest as I spin to my mate. “Help me Fafnir, she’s not listening!”
The look he gives me makes my heart drop to the floor. Sympathy, longing, and on Ogarrex… bitter resignation.
No.
No!
I storm to her, my hand gripping her wrist to keep her from leaving. “He is your son, and I am telling you I desire a better fate for mine!” My eyes widen a sharp, twisting pain blooms in my gut. I stagger, Helgoid’s cold, aged hands catching me as I gasp.
Oh god.
Not now.
Not fucking now.
Fafnir is at my back, trying to pull me away, but I shake him off. I don’t need his fretting right now. I’m panting as I regain my composure. “If there is even a chance, is it not their right to know? To choose for themselves?”
“Do you think others have not tried, Lenora? That I did not try to save my love from wandering, that I have not led my authority and reasons to be questioned in order to give more time to my son?”
“This can work. Ask either of them, they’re proof it can work! It may not be a cure, but it is a chance!”
“You must stop this, human you are—’
A ragged gasp tears from my throat as a wetness floods between my legs, running down them onto the floor.
My water.
My fucking water just broke.
My mate is there in a second, bellowing to Ogarrex to call for the healer and ensure the space shuttle is ready should we have to go off world quickly. I swat him, trying to get loose from his hold. “Let me go, I can’t do this yet! She’s not listening Fafnir!”
“Hush my mate, it will be—’
“If you tell me it will be fine, I will shear your antlers in your sleep!”
He gives me a panicked but endearing smile. How can he manage it right now? He’s so strong, so much stronger than me. I turn and struggle in his arms until I’m facing his mother again, tears budding in my eyes, but not the sad kind. I’m angry, so angry. “I will not have this baby until you agree to hold counsel with the other elders!”
She offers me an amused smile, her long animal hide dress dragging on the ground as she places both her hands on my face. It’s such a maternal gesture that my lip wobbles. “You do not have a choice.”
Fafnir laughs, but it’s a breathless sound. He keeps looking around, panicked, like there’s something more he should be doing. “I wouldn’t bet against her.” Helgoid notices, looking at him, listening to his laughter as if it’s a divine being that just stepped into the room with us. Like it’s the workings of a miracle, perhaps it is, but not the type given by gods. It’s the kind of miracle born from suffering, hope, and fucking work. “I am well within my mind. We have stores of data and proof of our claims. We have help.” I watch as he passes her a copied chip containing everything we’ve compiled so far. Files and files of video data, research, his, Ogarrex’s, and the doctor’s testimony. I watch as she takes it, tucking it into the pocket of her dress.
“I might not have a choice, but you do.” I gasp through the next contraction.
The healer rushes in at that with Elat and a panicked wealth of Bhaurnuls on their heels.
Helgoid gives me a slight nod, touching her antlers to the place where mine would be in a sign of respect and affection that makes a tear escape from my eye. “You have won this battle well enough, save your energy for the war ahead.”
It occurs to me then what this means for them. How terribly pregnancies affect their females. Most dying due to complications of childbirth in the end. They are every bit warriors in their own right. I can see her shudder in anticipation of what comes next. The worried look in my mate’s eyes settles into my chest, and for the first time since we started this, I’m afraid for myself.
Humans handle Bhaurnul births well.
That’s what I tell myself as I choke on my next contraction, my mate swinging me into his arms when my knees buckle. The healer barking orders and the throng of people follow us down the wide hall, my mate snarling at them to give me space as I’m ushered into a dimly lit, warm-toned room. For once, they aren’t glaring and shying away from him but rallying together with us until they’re shut outside.
“It’ll be okay, Sha’vria. You are stronger than even I could dream of becoming.”
I huff out a sob, my body ripping in two, but when I look down, I find it intact and wonder how that’s possible as the healer and Elat rush in, and I’m stripped of my clothes. They’re replaced with a soft, lightweight material that’s so pretty in any other situation I’d be remiss to soil it.
I’m about to have a baby.
I’m about to be a mom.
Strange how that hasn’t really occurred to me until now.
Fafnir
My mate’s screams echo in the small room, her tiny hand gripping me with more strength than I thought possible. She seems to switch wildly from wanting my touch to all but snarling at me like an angry Sihlih when I give it to her. I am unsure which to do, so I wait for her to do one or the other and switch accordingly. My heart is beating harder than I ever thought possible, and for the first time in a long while, I feel my berserker at the front of my mind. He’s unsettled from his rest, but he doesn’t move for our skin. Still, I can barely resist the urge to snarl at the two females in the room when Lenora cries out, whimpering in pain.
“You are doing well. The kit is cresting, another big breath and push hard.”
Emil translates for the healer, one of the few who have not fully embraced universal.
“I can’t, I’m tired.” Lenora pants before she sucks in a ragged breath and bares down hard doing it anyway. Her back is supported as she squats on the slightly raised bedding on the ground. Her scream shakes me to my core, the blood smeared on the bedding and her pale dress needling in my mind as I breathe deeper.
I have never known a fear like this.
If I lose her—
It will all be for nothing.
I cannot endure it.
She cries out, struggling to get her hand from mine to reach between her legs. She lets loose an exhausted little wail of happiness at whatever she feels there. It’s enough to make my heart slam in my chest as she pushes again. The kit releases from her with a rush of fluid, and a loud, hardy cry. My eyes are wide on the babe as Elat whispers encouraging words to her, a huge smile on the female’s face.
Elat faces me then, nodding with teary eyes. “A male.”
My mate’s hands shake as we help her lie back on her mound of pillows. She jerks down the top of her dress, baring her breasts as our kit is lain on her chest.
She sobs, looking at me with the world’s prettiest hazel eyes. “He’s so loud.”
I laugh at that, but it’s a shocked sound as I step closer, wanting like hell to hold our baby as she calls them, but feeling oddly undeserving of the sight of them in front of me.
I was lost.
What if I lose control?
What if it hurt them?
I watch, chest heaving, as the females leap into action, cleaning up around us. Lenora worries her bottom lip, fiddling with her breast, trying to navigate it into the kit’s wailing mouth.
He is small, bloody, and has the rich honeyed color of his mother’s skin with dark hair to match. The dirty smattering of fur and little soft hooves make my chest ache. They will harden into proper hooves as he grows older. It’s the tiny nubs, his bludgeoning horns, that force me into action. I can no longer help it when I place my hand over the top of his head, liquid filling my eyes.
It is alarming at first, before I realize I’m about to cry.
I huff at that, making the kit jerk a little. I silence myself immediately.
The healer places a hand on the cord, testing to see if it’s still pulsing before gesturing for me to sever it. A lump thickens in my throat as I bend my head, taking the length and nicking it with the tip of my horn. The look in my mate’s eyes is my undoing. I go back to them, pressing kisses to them both before her eyes widen helplessly. “He won’t latch.”
The healer, an older female chuckles. “Give him a moment. He only just arrived.”
I translate, kicking myself for not having noticed my mate’s distress. Soon enough, Helgoid arrives. I watch her in a maternal light I barely recognize as she pinches the top of my mate’s breast, helping her get our son to latch, he does.
The prideful, relieved smile Lenora gives me as she gestures for me to sit with them is like cold water on a festering burn.
“Our Hatheus,” she announces, and my dam nearly stumbles to the ground next to us.
My mate came up with a cross between our sires’ names. Mine, Hathorex, and hers, Thaddeus.
“It is a strong name for a strong boy.” The elder remarks. She lingers for a while, ensuring my mate wants for nothing before leaving us alone. When she walks into the grand hall, the sound of cheering can be heard throughout the village.
We laugh at that.
“Do you want to hold him?”
I hesitate, my chest aching with how badly I want exactly that.
“You will not hurt him, Faf. Stop being silly and come here.”
I obey her, taking him like one would the webbing of a spider, wishing not to disrupt it.
“Support his neck.”
He is so tiny in my arms, fitting in just the palm of my hand. He is perfect, every bit as perfect as his mother. I decide then… Valhyr himself could not separate me from either of them.
