Moonspear moody blue

Hope you don't mind another one with me!

Njord carried the delicate windchime with the greatest of care. Pilable willow twigs, polished animal bones, and small strips of leather made a beautiful mobile that emitted a calming jingle as the seafarer walked. He moved across Moonspear eastbound and towards the Sveijarn-Corten ulaq, where he found his wife, @Meerkat, reposed.

Per Bridget’s instructions, Meerkat imbibed ginger root and steeped chamomile to help keep her nausea and reflux under control. The remedies helped, though now fatigue plagued her. She could never quite get comfortable—especially when the puppies were active—so sleep didn’t come easily no matter how tired she felt.

Nonetheless, she rested her eyes this afternoon, even drowsed a little. But they slowly peeled open at the sound of distant tinkling. Meerkat’s face scrunched sleepily as she stretched out on the soft skin beneath her swollen body, wondering about the source of such a sound.

I always love a Njord thread!

The seafather could spy Meerkat’s rounded form nestled away in their bower – a small movement telegraphed that she was awake. He gingerly hung the small mobile off the side of one entrance, draping it over an outstretched root. The bones jostled together and Njord felt it sounded like raindrops on a hollow log. Peaceful.

“What do ye think?” he asked his wife about the new decoration. “Rodyn visited an’ brought gifts with ‘im. I thought ye’d like this one.”

His head cocked this way and that as he admired the bobble and reflected on the hunter’s conversation. He felt this was truly an art form.

Njord’s gaze traced the edge of their den’s entrance down towards Meerkat. How her body had changed in such a short time! Though the husband knew his wife did not feel the best, outwardly she positively glowed. The gentle curve of her flaxen belly reminded him of a round acorn cap.

His muzzle brushed against her cheek. “Do ye still feel sick, mo chridhe?” he asked, an undertone of concern laced within the bur of his voice.

Her husband strode into view, something quite strange dangling from his muzzle. Meerkat blinked, realizing it was the source of the strange music. She groggily watched Njord drape it over one of the roots forming the framework of their ulaq, her lips slightly parted.

He mentioned Rodyn and it took Meerkat a beat to place the name. She was so tired. When she did, her mouth closed and curved into a soft smile. She was glad Njord had found a friend of sorts in the trader. And it was very nice of Rodyn to bring them such a treasure. Their den was sorely lacking in all the little tchotchkes that made a house a home. (She would not dwell on the loss of her engagement conch…)

What is it, exactly? she asked, her brain feeling sluggish.

He asked about her health and the smile thinned out a little, at least until Njord moved in to kiss her cheek. That simple touch seemed to infuse her with energy and warmth. She pushed upright, favoring a hip to leave room for her growing belly. The pups stirred, prompting a small wince when a tiny paw nudged some organ or another.

The nausea’s mostly gone, though now I just can’t get comfortable enough to sleep. It’ll probably be this way until they’re born, Meerkat mumbled, still not fully alert.

“Rodyn called ‘em songmakers,” Njord answered as the bauble chimed. Though the trinket was a bonnie addition to their ulaq, the redtail suddenly realized he may have miscalculated its value. “Och, I shoulda picked somethin’ different,” he reflected. “Another fur tae help ye lay comfortably.”

He leaned towards the exit of their den as if to inquire would you like me to go exchange it?

Then, his gaze fell to her belly. “Are ye wee ones dancin’ a jig in there? Ye mother cannae sleep,” he whispered as if speaking directly to their unborn puppies.

Her husband named the object: a song-maker. Her lips twitched faintly at the apt title. Then Njord said something about choosing a different gift, something more useful. In her muzzy state, the sudden turn gave her a bit of whiplash. Meerkat blinked, then shook her head when she fully processed his inference.

This is enough, she said, patting the skin spread beneath her hip, and I like the thought of having some decorations. Sure, she continued slowly, thinking aloud, practical gifts are good. But sometimes it’s nice just to have something… nice.

A self-deprecating laugh followed that inarticulate sentiment, though Meerkat hoped Njord would get what she was trying to say. The way he addressed the pups in her belly certainly indicated he understood the source of her brain fog.

But, suddenly, a thought hit her with bright clarity, prompting Meerkat to say, Could you do me a favor and lay here? as she patted the space beside her.

Njord sighed and smiled with a soft expression of admiration. Though he wasn’t one hundred percent convinced Meerkat’s life wouldn’t be a little easier with a more thoughtful gift, he trusted her words of appreciation.

“Ye wish is my command,” he said as Njord nimbly maneuvered his large figure, circling once before taking his place beside his wife. His good ear turned forward, wanting to know how he could serve her.

A small smile flickered across her face at Njord’s words. Meerkat waited patiently while he maneuvered into the indicated space and prostrated himself. For a moment, she remained upright, assessing the slope of his shoulders and back with a cock of her head.

Then, very gently, she draped herself over him. Meerkat settled her forelegs so that his spine pressed into her armpits and her verily rounded abdomen nudged into his ribs. It probably wasn’t very comfortable for him, though for her, it was the difference between pressing her huge belly against a firm surface (the den floor) and one with much more give (Njord’s flank). It wasn’t entirely comfortable for her, either—there was no such thing at this point—but it was a relief.

I’m sorry if this isn’t comfortable, mo chride, Meerkat apologized, but I think I may actually be able to get some sleep like this, if you think you can stay put for an hour or so?

Meerkat pretzeled herself against him like two complicated puzzle pieces. After his conversation with Sialuk Njord knew he would do anything she wished, comfortable or not.

A small chuckle rumbled from his chest, smitten. “Och,” the Scottish sound telegraphed that she had no reason to apologize. “My bonnie wife, if ye can find rest like this, then I could lay here forever,” he assured her. In this position, he could not turn to kiss her, but he angeled his cheek towards her all the same. “Sleep well, my dear,” he wished as the jingle of the song-maker in the breeze created a calm ambiance.

Tell me if you go numb or need to shift a little, Meerkat replied gratefully, sagging so that her whole weight pressed into Njord’s willing warmth.

She settled her chin on the back of his neck, shifting to avoid the knob of his nape. Despite the strange angles, the lack of pressure on her midsection allowed her to relax in a way that allowed sleep to finally capture her. It wasn’t long before her warm breaths puffed against the back of his neck, her snores soft in Njord’s ear.