Ravensblood Forest everybody’s gone in the cotton and the corn [m]

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Arturo lets out a low, warm chuckle as she assures him that he is well on his way to reaching his goal and there is a mischievous glint that writhes in the deep fires of Ceannasach’s gaze but it is tempered when she admits that she is tired. For a brief moment, Arturo worries. He worries if their want for children together was too impatient, he worries that if his seed takes hold within her womb what it will mean for her. She is still healing and though much better than she has been he hopes that Lotte’s life …and the life of their children … will not be placed in jeopardy. Losing children is hard but Arturo imagines that there is nothing that would be as hard for him as losing Lotte. Still, he retains his faith. Lotte is strong; and if her body was not able to handle then surely she would not have gone into heat. The touch of her tongue draws Arturo from his concerns and he takes advantage of the distraction she provides him with to tuck them away. Worrying will do him no good.

“I followed my mother’s tradition,” Arturo answers her, his thoughts going fondly to his first litter. He has not seen his adult children for some time and though this fills him with an aching sorrow he is undeniably proud of them. He has done his duty to them: he has raised them, he loves them and he has allowed them the freedom of spreading their wings and leaving the nest. They all survived to adulthood and thus Arturo believes that he must have done something right. “My name in Gaelic translates to strong as a bear,” There is a twitch of his lips into an ironic smirk. He is not built like a bear by any means of the imagination and there is great irony to be found in the sharp, svelte features he boasts; painting him as what he was: coywolf. “Dagny,” Arturo repeats softly to himself as Lotte makes her request known to him. Though none of his older children bear middle names he is not opposed to the idea; and of course he is not as he cannot imagine ever denying Lotte anything she asks of him! “It is lovely.” The low, breathy murmur is little more than a croon in the crook of her ear as he drinks in her scent again, unable to help himself. She is intoxicating to him always but especially so now and he feels as if there is no such thing as enough.

“I’ve always liked Mallaidh, Eirlys, and Muirin for girls,” Arturo muses thoughtfully, drawing in a soft breath. “Ceallach and Roarke for possible boy names.” There is a slight sheepish rise and fall of his broad shoulders that accompanies his ideas and for the fact that he has listed more girl names and boy. Though he loves all of his children equally he tends to have a soft spot for his daughters (if the manner in which he has spoilt Chusi is of any indication). “Lotte,” Her name leaves his lips like a trembling prayer and he nuzzles closer for a moment, thinking through his words before he makes his request for it is not one that he makes lightly. “I want you to stand beside me as my wife, as my equal in all aspects of our lives and if you accept it, I would like you to stand beside me as Teaghlaigh’s Banríon.” He has put much thought into this, and has admittedly imagined it several times since the first time she came to him on Teaghlaigh’s borders when he was still trying to get it off the ground.

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