full
view of the outer yard.
“Is there any more
you need of me, Vaan?”
Vaan shook his
head as his friend took his leave, closing the door behind him. Each day Vaan
held Mikayla at the window, allowing the warmth of the sun she loved to touch
her tender skin. Each day, hope dwindled that she would awaken from the sleep
caused by the birthing.
In a fit of
annoyance, the Ba’asi had proclaimed that Vaan delayed the inevitable with his
round the clock care of his mate. The tired argument had pushed Vaan too far.
With a subtle head tilt, he’d signaled Argan to gently send the holy man
on his way.
Rubbing his nose
in the sweet scent of her hair, Vaan reminded himself that his Mikayla was
still with him. He had not lost her yet. His eyes closed on the thought. Losing
Mikayla was not an option and so he began as he did everyday.
With words.
Words he hoped she
heard. “If you die, I will raise our youngling to be fine warriors.”
Nothing.
“They will have
nothing lady-like in their manner for it would make them weak. The daughters
you gifted me shall be strong.” Vaan considered his next words. “Stronger than
their mother who seeks to leave them behind.”
The words were
harsh. Unlike what he’d whispered over the last few days but Vaan knew not what
else to do.
Her fine lids with
traces of blue beneath did not stir. “Mikayla,” he pleaded and his grip
tightened as if by force he could keep her from joining the Blessed One in the
Hills. A Galip did not plead but Vaan did. He pleaded for the Blessed One to
hear his words and take mercy on him.
“Mikayla, stay
with me.” He buried his face in her hair allowing the depths of his pain to bleed
through.
Never had the
Overlord suffered defeat in battle yet in this one thing he could not win.
Despair closed in and the sobs he had contained in the last weeks broke
through.
“Too tight”
Vaan froze.
Wishing but not daring to hope, he pulled back to see her face.
Mikayla blinked
and slowly shards of green came into view.
“Mikayla,” his
hoarse cry rasped free.
A smile curled her
lips. “You’re really home.”
Home. Vaan choked.
“Yes, I am home, mate. As are you.”
Epilogue
Vaan’s gaze did
not stray from their moving daughters. His vigilance was a constant source of
amusement.
“Should they move
around so much?”
Miki held back a
grin. The girls scooted along the floor in play, their matching pink tunics making
them indistinguishable to others but not to her. At nine months, they
progressed at the normal rate for Raasa youngling. Based on her mate’s
reaction, she assumed this was not the same for a Kabanian youngling.
Arane reached her
sister’s side and licked her cheek, causing Erana to squeal with laughter.
Erana pushed up into a sitting position with a giggle. Vaan took a step in
their direction, panic on his face. “Is it safe for them to do that? Will they
harm one another with sakar?”
At his concern
that the girls would poison each other, Miki smiled fully. “No. The venom sacs
will not develop for several years and they will understand the need for
caution by then. For now youngling…” She searched for the right word in
Standard. “Drool. The drool is safe.”
Vaan looked
doubtful but nodded none the less. “I will trust you in this, mate.” His gaze
brightened when he turned to face Miki. “But we will not tell Argan thus, yes?
He believes the drool is poison and flinches each time a drop hits his chest
when he is holding one of our youngling.”
Caught off guard
by his sense of humor, Miki laughed and came to her feet. “You tease him.” She
crossed the room, stepping carefully over toys and what looked like the remains
of smashed Zanni berries.
As soon as she
reached his side, Vaan pulled her in close and kissed her forehead. “I would
spend time with you,” he murmured and nuzzled the shell of her ear. “Without
our youngling about.”
Miki shivered from
the promise in his voice. They rarely had
view of the outer yard.
“Is there any more
you need of me, Vaan?”
Vaan shook his
head as his friend took his leave, closing the door behind him. Each day Vaan
held Mikayla at the window, allowing the warmth of the sun she loved to touch
her tender skin. Each day, hope dwindled that she would awaken from the sleep
caused by the birthing.
In a fit of
annoyance, the Ba’asi had proclaimed that Vaan delayed the inevitable with his
round the clock care of his mate. The tired argument had pushed Vaan too far.
With a subtle head tilt, he’d signaled Argan to gently send the holy man
on his way.
Rubbing his nose
in the sweet scent of her hair, Vaan reminded himself that his Mikayla was
still with him. He had not lost her yet. His eyes closed on the thought. Losing
Mikayla was not an option and so he began as he did everyday.
With words.
Words he hoped she
heard. “If you die, I will raise our youngling to be fine warriors.”
Nothing.
“They will have
nothing lady-like in their manner for it would make them weak. The daughters
you gifted me shall be strong.” Vaan considered his next words. “Stronger than
their mother who seeks to leave them behind.”
The words were
harsh. Unlike what he’d whispered over the last few days but Vaan knew not what
else to do.
Her fine lids with
traces of blue beneath did not stir. “Mikayla,” he pleaded and his grip
tightened as if by force he could keep her from joining the Blessed One in the
Hills. A Galip did not plead but Vaan did. He pleaded for the Blessed One to
hear his words and take mercy on him.
“Mikayla, stay
with me.” He buried his face in her hair allowing the depths of his pain to bleed
through.
Never had the
Overlord suffered defeat in battle yet in this one thing he could not win.
Despair closed in and the sobs he had contained in the last weeks broke
through.
“Too tight”
Vaan froze.
Wishing but not daring to hope, he pulled back to see her face.
Mikayla blinked
and slowly shards of green came into view.
“Mikayla,” his
hoarse cry rasped free.
A smile curled her
lips. “You’re really home.”
Home. Vaan choked.
“Yes, I am home, mate. As are you.”
Epilogue
Vaan’s gaze did
not stray from their moving daughters. His vigilance was a constant source of
amusement.
“Should they move
around so much?”
Miki held back a
grin. The girls scooted along the floor in play, their matching pink tunics making
them indistinguishable to others but not to her. At nine months, they
progressed at the normal rate for Raasa youngling. Based on her mate’s
reaction, she assumed this was not the same for a Kabanian youngling.
Arane reached her
sister’s side and licked her cheek, causing Erana to squeal with laughter.
Erana pushed up into a sitting position with a giggle. Vaan took a step in
their direction, panic on his face. “Is it safe for them to do that? Will they
harm one another with sakar?”
At his concern
that the girls would poison each other, Miki smiled fully. “No. The venom sacs
will not develop for several years and they will understand the need for
caution by then. For now youngling…” She searched for the right word in
Standard. “Drool. The drool is safe.”
Vaan looked
doubtful but nodded none the less. “I will trust you in this, mate.” His gaze
brightened when he turned to face Miki. “But we will not tell Argan thus, yes?
He believes the drool is poison and flinches each time a drop hits his chest
when he is holding one of our youngling.”
Caught off guard
by his sense of humor, Miki laughed and came to her feet. “You tease him.” She
crossed the room, stepping carefully over toys and what looked like the remains
of smashed Zanni berries.
As soon as she
reached his side, Vaan pulled her in close and kissed her forehead. “I would
spend time with you,” he murmured and nuzzled the shell of her ear. “Without
our youngling about.”
Miki shivered from
the promise in his voice. They rarely had
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