Gyrfalcon's Keep Woodsmoke and oranges

With dawn came awakening realization that grew with every weary, woozy morning. When the sun rose, the feeling went away- and after a month, Solveig had begun to notice the aching in her lower back, and a heaviness growing deep within her belly. 

While a whirlwind of emotions swept through her, she could not help but smile faintly. She craned her head to investigate her underbelly and noted the fullness of her lower belly with a light shake of her head. She sighed, and chuffed. 

She sought out @Velaryon, who she thought should be the first to know. She wondered what his reaction might be, but was prepared to handle anything. She crooned to him when she caught sight of him, as though to summon him for yet another intimate encounter- though there was a different tenderness to her eyes when she looked at him, and she wondered if he would notice right away the changes that had taken place.

he is sought.

he is summoned.

rusalka's head swings in solveig's direction as she calls his attention, a low croon leaving her lips. it is immediately reminiscent of their times spent entangled on their trip to this very keep.

though her season has waned with the cycles of the moon since then.

still, he does not forget the feel of her body against his own, how they fit together like puzzle pieces. despite his jagged edges and the unknowns of each other.

it takes the cairn a moment of gears turning to assess the tenderness he sees when she looks at him — and the thorough examination of if it was for him or something else entirely — and to then slide past her face to the soft swell of her flanks.

pieces begin to click together but he is naturally hesitant to assume; thus invites her nearer and greets her with a low, curious grunt.

He succumbed to her invitation with the same obedient willingness that he had before- though there was something of a question in his eyes. Still feeling buoyant from the discovery herself, she smiled at him, appraising him once more for all that he was- a great fortress of dark stone, of fearsome build but mild temperament. Good genetics, she thought, just as she had before- and she'd been lucky enough to catch his eye. 

"If you do not see," She said, before she straightened up a bit and shimmied her shoulders. "I am glowing." She purred, leaning forward and into her forepaws, so as to stretch her abdomen lightly. There, the faint but unmistakable presence of a baby bump would be better seen.

i see, rumbles the leviathan, sungold gaze taking in the soft swell of her sides again; lingering for a moment longer. at least, rusalka thinks, she does not appear to be angered by this ... development.

the cairn is wont to keep an emotional distance for now. at least until it is known for sure they are his.

are they mine? he asks then, a man not made for beating around the bush nor subtly.

His reaction wasn't exactly elation- which annoyed Solveig, though only slightly. It wasn't as though they had taken any vows together- nor had they discussed that she'd intended to conceive, either. Truth be told, she hadn't planned on having children, but the impulse to make them with someone who could lend her some good genetics had been too tempting. Travelling stirred the romanticism within her; as did battle. Anything that got her blood flowing often made her more impulsive as well. 

Still, it seemed somewhat important to him to know their parentage. She was lightly ruffled by the question, as to her, it wouldn't have mattered how many fathers there might have been. In this case, there had been only him- but without having given him any vows, she sincerely hoped he didn't expect complete fidelity. "Yes, they are yours. You have not forgotten already our time together?" She teased, prowling close enough so that she might tempt a fondness from his eyes again. "I could remind you..." She purred with a faint laugh.

i remember, rusalka speaks; clipped. well. fondly, even.

though a man of mercurial emotions, he takes a while to process the assurance in which she replies that they were his.

you could've had more partners than just me, silence breaks with his words: a simple observation. we are not avowed to one another, is why i asked. in this, at least, he understands the assignment.

cubs.

his —

it hadn't necessarily been on his to-do list when he set out from warsaw islands ... but it had wiggled it's way into his priorities in the here and now.

there is a soft swell of ... something, as he looks upon her again. yet unplaceable.

am i to be known as father to them? he inquires; softly, trying to determine what her expectations might be and if he was to have a place in their lives beyond 'packmate'.

She regarded him fondly, pleased that he would acknowledge the pleasure in the time they had spent together. She would have been offended had he been anything other than honoured to have been chosen. She was an excellent woman, she thought; built well, and she had already delivered three healthy pups in her previous litter. She thought she was likely to have many more healthy broods in her time. 

"I could have had very many others," She agreed, "But no; only you," She said. She wondered vaguely if he would want vows; but as wily a creature as she was, she knew her feelings for him stemmed mainly from attraction. Her heart did not yearn for him in the way it would need to, if she was expected to give it to only one man. 

His next question was considered for a moment. "Well, yes; but only if you are here for them, if provide for them, teach them...They will not call someone father who does not act like one." She stated bluntly. "So it is your choice." She wouldn't trap him in a relationship with her- but if he expected to have an influence on their children, and to be given a title, he would have to work for it in order to maintain it.

there is a soft swell of pride, a boost to rusalka's ego as she tells him that out of the many others she could've had: she had only had him.

it is a superficial pride; shallow.

and yet, he feels it deeply all the same.

these conditions are fair. he comments, though her words, he felt, did not truly require one of him. beyond that, he was one to show in lieu of telling. words could be honeyed. webbed lies.

all too easily.

He was amenable, which didn't surprise her. She wasn't sure which drove him to agree- the want to be the father, or the feeling of obligation. She felt certain she could see a bit of pride in him, having sired a litter of children. Not knowing how he truly felt, she began to become more curious about the personal aspect of his life- and felt he ought to know a bit about her as well, all things considered. 

"Have you had children before?" She asked then. She didn't need an expert- she didn't need a partner at all, she thought- not with her keen daughter at hand as well. But if he had experience, that would be an asset. If nothing else, so long as he was willing to do what she told him to do, he would be useful to her and the children.

her question was a simple one and thus deserved a simple answer in return. and, beyond that, his total lack of experience when it came to cubs and fatherhood would give him away even if he held any modicum of desire to lie ( he did not ).

no. rusalka rumbles simply. these children will be my first. it felt strange to word it like that: as if they would be more.

but, of course, rusalka was no soothsayer and could not say if he would sire more children in any sort of future. he much preferred to live in the moment, even if that tended to have lingering consequences.

She admired how willing he seemed to be, to take care of the children though it would be his first litter. "It will be my second." She responded, and shrugged. "So I do not pretend to know everything, but...They are truly not that difficult." She said. She'd faced tougher challenges in life than splitting up squabbling siblings. That was why it was her method to simply allow the children to squabble and figure out dominance amongst themselves- and as far as she could tell, all three of her children had turned out fine for it. 

"I will need you to feed me, when I get too fat," She said, with a chuckle. "But that will be all, for quite some time. Pamper me if you choose, I will not turn you away," She added. After all, she did like the attention.

rusalka is not so sure that he entirely believes her when she speaks that children are not so difficult. from what he saw of his younger half siblings: they were plenty difficult.

but perhaps that was just the curse of being cairn. temperaments ranged and tended to be as mercurial as the sea. at least, kraken's children were.

and how do you wish to be pampered? asks the leviathan of the sea, deep, smoky timbre taking on an edge that tastes playful. flirty, even.

His commitment was palpable, though it remained a thing that could only be truly proven with time. Still; for the time being, she was amused, and entertained by the man, and thought of no others so long as this one kept his promises. She smiled, and moved toward him, a woman he had once touched and claimed, and one who would willingly submit to his desires yet again. 

"I like to be surprised." She murmured. "Often." Her gaze flickered up to meet his; in spite of being pregnant, she intended to capture his interest every moment she could, as well. They could light beacons for one another, she thought- be held together by constantly lighting the flame they'd lit once, and allowing it to burn and warm their growing hearth.

rusalka considers her words; the play of these silent considerations dancing like phantoms waltzing across the planes of his face.

there and gone before any of them could be snagged and closer examined.

she moves and hungrily the cairn watches her, nearing. fond echoes of how she felts wrapt in his embrace tugging now at his mind.

a noise, half a rumble, half a hum lingers in his throat.

that i can do. for to her whims and desires, as with his own, he is a willing puppet.

He seemed keen and willing to meet every demand she had made of him to date. Naturally, she approved of this; men who were willing to appease their wives and lovers earned happy wives and lovers in return, and while Solveig knew it was likely too soon to tell if this would be something that would last, she felt reasonably confident in assuming that it would. She would keep her expectations reasonable, but felt he would surpass them. She would welcome him, and reward him, if he did. 

There was a note in his voice that she found appealing and so, smiling lightly, she made a request. "Sing to me?" She asked, curious to know if he could- and if he would.

sing to me... comes her request, eliciting a soft noise from rusalka. if she wanted a man to sing to her: he was not the one. besides the fact that he rather thought he was unable to, he knew no songs in which to serenade her with.

not even a meager sea shanty.

i do not sing. rusalka tells her simply; the one request he would deny her thus far.

”Do not or will not?” She asked playfully. She wondered if he felt it was beneath him to know folk songs and to sing them, but she wanted for their children to hear and know his voice as song was shared fluently throughout her culture between men and women. 

She hummed a soft melody, and fell silent- inviting him with an amused, beseeching blink of her eyes. Perhaps he simply didn’t know any songs- in that case, she would teach him.

she questions on whether his refusal to sing was because he did not or could not.

both. rumbles the cairn patriarch.

a simple answer like the man that had spoken it.

still, she begins to make a noise that rusalka recognizes a few short seconds later as humming. still, he holds fast to his conviction; though amusement has begun to find its home upon his face.

Bold of him to deny her- and to refuse to repeat after her a moment later. Still- whether he’d sing in front of her or not, she would him to him, leaning against his shoulder so he could know the melody.

One day, perhaps, the mountain might buckle and sing to their children.