Dragoncrest Cliffs mindful of neither her child

erzulie dozed.
against her flanks, the children churned. 
she sensed it would be more of them when the time came, and her heart pierced through for gone solaire and reticent arcelia, bringing the obsidian to a restless waking. paws crossed, the harlot turned a solemn look upon the waves, shifting her aching hips under the large curve of her sides.

Steals!

Erzulie grew by the day as Njord observed in wonder. New litters were common on Meares Island – pregnancy and childbirth were not new to the seafarer… but these were his children (well… perhaps Merlin’s…). That fact made everything feel different. Special.

Njord noticed his daily hunts and patrols began to orbit around the expecting captain. She was like the Earth, fertile… life-giving, and Njord was her watchful, but distant, Moon.

On this day, he found the goldspun woman reclined on the beach, watching the sea’s blue waves crash upon their shores. He approached and laid down besides her. “Yer more beautiful than ev’r, ‘Zulie. Can I fetch ya anythin’?” he asked, noticing a thin wash of melancholy on her visage.

"hello, njord," the obsidian purled as the red-tail came up beside her. his words shimmered with praise, and she luxuriated catlike beneath them. 
"not dis time," she sighed. "i have been mot'er t'ree times now. mot'er to ten children." a quirk of her lips. "it never is easier when dey slip away. de sea calls dem early, an' off dey go."
erzulie did not think the brood she carried would be different, but now in the contemplation of it, she had discovered peace.

The red-tail was lulled into a thoughtful silence as he listened to the seawife, steeping in her bittersweet reflection. Ten children. Something about this new information made him feel naïve. He had only known Erzulie’s Valravn, Arcelia, Chacal, and Regin… the later being prematurely lost at the end of winter. Whether is was by their own mind, or nature’s hand, Njord couldn’t imagine what it was like to see your own children leave you. In fact, he couldn’t even fathom it. Erzulie was a seasoned mother, while Njord was a complete greenhorn. He was too preoccupied their litter’s arrival to think of a time when they’d be gone.

The seafarer bobbed his head, understanding the logic of it but having a difficult time placing her wisdom in his own rolodex. Perhaps that grief was something you had to experience first hand to truly understand. “Yer a strong woman,” Njord admired. “’An wise,” he added as he laid his chin across her shoulders, blue gaze drifting to her round belly. “I don’t understand why some things ‘appen,” he thought of Rosencrantz, Kaertok, and Raleska, “but I sup’pose its makes ya enjoy every minute ya ‘ave. Time’s a rare treasure.”

“What do ya think they’re gonna be like?” he wondered, nosing at her golden fur.

njord, always so gentle. always tending toward a knowledge that age would give him. she had chosen well this season, very well, as she shifted against the ruby's soft muzzle. "obsessed wid de sea, i hope!" she laughed, sunlight breaking its way through earlier clouds.
"fiercely outspoken, all of dem. more den two," she told njord, suddenly suffused with an affection that he seemed to take such an interest in the unborn pups. perhaps they might bear his red tail; she would enjoy that. 
a strong woman. wise. and old! though she did not add this, refusing to sully the moment. "what do you t'ink dey will be like?"

Erzulie’s words painted new pictures in Njord’s imagination: Their children playing in the ocean’s white wash on a hot summer day. Hunting for small treasures in the sand. Teaching them how to shuck an oyster! A big grin widened the islander’s face and he felt his heart pound when she implied a large litter.

“More than two!” he echoed excitedly, a sudden rush making him feel lightheaded. “I ken they’ll be brav’r ‘an more cunning than any wolf in Teekon!” His expression softened, “…but kind an’ big heart’d. Tha girls will ‘av their mot’ers beauty… ‘an tha lads will be braw.”

Suddenly, Njord felt a puppy kick in Erzulie’s belly and he chuckled. “Do ya think they can ‘ear me?” he asked, voice dropping to a low whisper.

erzulie smiled down at his eager young head, eternally charmed by the sound of his accented voice, the slow syrup of his pirate's words. brave. beautiful. she felt the warmth of him against her, felt the children kicking. "yes," the harlot said, though she was unsure that she should allow njord so close.
suppose he meant to install himself as equal to she and her wife in their lives?
was it a selfish thought, or pragmatic?
she had a soft spot for him, erzulie supposed, not a weakness but a vulnerability. he had never inspired more in her than trust.
"sing to dem, if you be wantin'"

Njord felt, somewhere in his heart, that he was traipsing in dangerous and uncharted territory. He had love for Erzulie – though a different sort of love than that between husband and wife – and the children she carried. But his place in their lives was uncertain. Though this caused him strife, Njord chose to quietly contain it. Instead, he basked in the joy of the present and let his mind focus, unfettered, on the golden Madonna in the sand.

“sing to dem, if you be wantin“ the captain offered. Njord thought back to the dirge he sang to their dead comrades and hope he would never have to sing another sad song again. Who would have thought that in a week’s time, Merlin would wash up on this shore deceased.

His blue gaze turned from the mother to her belly, and the seafarer cleared his throat as he decided upon a lullaby. Njord sang...

"Dinogad's smock is speckled, speckled,
Made from the pelts of martens.
`Weet! Weet!' A-Whistlin'.
We sing, they sing, the eight in chains.

When daddy goes a-huntin'
Fang in his jaw, claw in his paw -
He called on his lively hounds,
`Giff! Gaff! get! Get! Bring Bring!'

From the coracle he kills fish
As the lion kills game.
When daddy goes to the mountains
He brings back roebuck, boar, and stag,
Speckled grouse from the mountain,
And a fish from the waterfalls of Derwennydd.
Whatever your father aimed his teeth -
Be it a boar, a wild cat, or a fox -
None would escape but that had strong wings."

erzulie had a good deal of affection for njord. she had not explored it, but out of all the men who had come through rusalka and sapphique, he ranked high among them. higher perhaps, in many stalwart ways. she lay back upon her round flank and grinned languidly as his strong young voice began.
the ruby sang of many things, of a place she had not heard, with a name she had not conceived. of fathers hunting and meat to be found, waterfalls, wings. whimsy, perhaps, and she watched his glowing handsome place with a true and quiet delight.
"you be a musical man indeed, njord," she praised, and motioned to where her heaped sides rolled with the activity of the children roused by the music he had sung through the side of their home.

Njord voice faded as he sang his last note. Erzulie looked quite pleased, reclined and relaxed on the beach. He chuckled, “Thank ya, capt’n. I get it from my Da'. I ‘av many more songs to share with tha wee ones one they arrive.” He thought of Erzulie’s other daughter and her lovely sing-song voice. “May’aps @Chacal an’ I can sing ‘em a duet together. I’m sure your daughter must be excited ta have baby brothers an’ sisters on tha way…”

He remembered the hurt feelings from the last seafoam run, and hoped it hadn’t irreparably damaged his relationship with Erzulie’s kin.

a deeper golden dimpling, to hear njord speak so peaceably and gently of chacal. how could their jackal-girl think herself so forgotten? and a deeper sort of future cunning took place in her mind, for neither wife was lessening in age, and had yet to choose an heir of sorts. while sapphique was not the stuff of royalty, and while leadership must be earned rather than given, she could not consider their cliffside under sole domination of a man. it would not do.
"sing wid her, njord. i would rat'er like dat. she has not told me her t'oughts on de little ones, but chacal t'inks a while before she be sayin' what's in her mind."

Njord smiled warmly as Erzulie’s face glowed when she spoke of her daughter. “Aye, I shall,” he promised. His gaze drifted to watch the whitewash and the gulls reel overhead. He would lay with Erzulie as long as she cared for her company, perhaps falling asleep in the warm sand by her side.