Dragoncrest Cliffs and if she does not love you

Always.  She savored the wicked gleam in her wife's eyes.  They were two of a kind and Rosalyn wondered if she'd ever get used to the idea of fitting alongside another so completely.  She hoped not; there was so much beauty in the novelty.  

She agreed fully, and she wondered if this year the role might fall more naturally to her.  She would still be their mother, but her role would be more akin to sire with none of her own to carry.  The thought of not sharing the pregnancy, the weaning, the exhaustion... it should have made her glad, but she felt a simple melancholy.

I've never been one for gods, but I imagine there's something to them being men.  Who else but a man would make himself so necessary and yet wholly unnecessary at the same time?  She asked, the light humor helping to ease some of the momentary ache.  In the end, I doubt it matters.  As long as they have you, and have me, a father or no makes little difference.  She'd tried both and failed at both regardless.  Some children stayed, some left, and she no longer felt the lack or presence of a father played in.  This year she'd hold none accountable but herself.