Olwyn knows it is very important to make a good first impression. And also that betrothals are serious business. Her grandnanae has been trying to make friends with the Council of Clans for a very long time, and this betrothal is really important for that. It could mean that there wouldn’t be any more fighting.

That’s a good thing. Olwyn doesn’t like it when there’s fighting, because that means her parents might have to go off to war and they could get hurt. There hasn’t been a war since Olwyn’s grandnanae defeated Mythal and divided the empire into four kingdoms, long before Olwyn was born, but she knows that all of her parents fought in it, and so did her Aunt Selene and Uncle Dirthamen and grandparents. Sometimes she has nightmares that there’s a war again and her parents have to leave, but her parents always tell her it’s ok, because there isn’t any war and they’re all trying very hard to make sure there won’t be any more wars either.

Olwyn believes them, and she’s glad that she gets to help make sure there isn’t any more fighting by getting betrothed. She’s trying her hardest to be good at it, and be as responsible as all the adults. They don’t let children do responsible things very often, so Olwyn has to show them that she’s ready for it.

It’s hard to be serious though, when she’s so excited.

“I wonder how many pets Kel has,” Olwyn swings her legs back and forth, and stares at her reflection in the big dressing room mirror. “Nemmy do you think she’s got a dog as big as Haurshos? I don’t think anybody’s got a dog as big as Haurshos. Do you think the Council of Free Clans have dogs at all? Are dogs only for empire elves?”

“Keep your head straight, little princess,” Nemael chuckles, continuing to braid her hair. Nemael is Olwyn’s nanny. He was a spirit once, one of the kinds that doesn’t really have a name. He came with her father Arethfal when he married her papae Aelynthi. He smells like the forest, and he’s almost as tall as an aspen tree. He always makes sure she stays out of trouble when her parents are doing important things or adult things or important adult things which are the worst. “I’m not certain if Kel has a dog or not. That is something you can ask her tonight at dinner.”

Olwyn begins to nod, and feels the soft tug of her hair as Nemael continues to braid, and sits up a little straighter for him. “Keeper Ireth was a really pretty dragon, have you ever seen another dragon? Are they all as pretty as her?”

“I have seen other dragons, but not another Keeper.” Nemael answers, “Your grandmothers Princess Andruil and the Lady Ghilanain can both turn into dragons, but their forms were very different.”

“Kinda like how all elves look different?”

“Just so,” Nemael agrees, and gives one final, playful tug. “There you are, all set.” Olwyn looks at herself in the mirror with a pleased grin. She’s wearing an all new dress; it’s gold and teal with a white fur trim, and she’s got a yellow jade hairpin nestled in her braids.

“Do you think Kel will like my hairpin?”

“I am sure she’ll love it.”

Normally Olwyn doesn’t like big dinners. It means sitting at the high table and having to eat all her vegetables because she has to be well-behaved. She can’t even sneak some to Haurshos because he isn’t allowed to come.

But papa Thenvunin has assured her that there will be lots of wonderful foods to eat and that she gets to sit with Kel and also stay up late like adults do! She hasn’t been able to talk with Kel yet, not after seeing her at the big meeting place when her papae Aelynthi was greeting Keeper Ireth and she hadn’t been able to really talk because the adults were talking.

Adults really like talking.

But she’d waved at Kel, and smiled at her, and tried to make her feel welcome. It is her job as a good hostess and betrothed to make Kel feel safe and happy. She thinks Kel is very pretty. She doesn’t wear her hair in the intricate court styles, but keeps it cut short, and her eyes are warm and her ears are straight rather than sloping up at the tip.

Papa and nanae Glory come get her from her rooms, to take her to dinner. Olwyn knows papae is in talks with Keeper Ireth and Grandnanae, and babae is helping show the clan members around with uncle Morwen.  

They don’t go to the imperial dining room, where Olwyn is used to her more formal meals. Instead papa carries her out into the large, open-aired courtyard that is usually used for the large festivals. There are already musicians playing, and a group of dancers at the center, surrounded by smaller tables that each sit four (two imperial officials and two clan members to each). On a raised dais are two longer tables, and on the highest dais is where Olwyn’s Grandnanae will sit, with Keeper Ireth beside them to show a level as equals. Grandpapae Nithroel, grandma Faunalyn, and grandnanae’s wife Kassaran are already seated. Olwyn waves, and is rewarded with smiles and a wave in return from all three.

On the dais just below Grandnanae Melarue is where Olwyn will sit with her parents and Kel and the rest of Kel’s family. Olwyn’s father, Prince Arethfal, isn’t here yet, which makes her a little sad. Her papae had explained that father was talking with her grandmamae and grandmemae back in their kingdom because they were angry that they hadn’t been invited to Olwyn’s betrothal meeting.

He was supposed to be back before the meeting itself, but he sent a message ahead saying he’d be a day or two late. Nanae says that Olwyn doesn’t need to worry, but she still does. Sometimes she finds her grandmamae Andruil to be scary. Grandmemae Ghilan’nain is a little nicer, she thinks. She made Haurshos after all.

Her worry is overshadowed by her excitement, of course. She has so many things she wants to show Kel, and so many questions to ask her!

Papa sits her down on his left, on a large blue cushion. It reminds her of eating meals with her parents around her low table, and not the high-backed imperial dining chairs. She likes it even more now. The only thing that would make this perfect would be Haurshos. He’d whined the whole time they’d gone down the hallway from her rooms; he doesn’t like it when he can’t see her.

Nanae sits beside papa, and Olwyn knows that babae will sit beside them. Papae will sit with Grandnanae, for more talks with Keeper Ireth. Olwyn can see lots of officials and clan members settling into their own seats, and recognizes several of grandnanae’s top officials, including uncle Morwen and nabae Treachery and gran gran Mirena.

The air is pleasantly cool, like a spring evening, despite the snow on the tiled roofs. Lanterns line the courtyard, still unlit, though Olwyn knows they will activate once the sky darkens. She learned all about that kind of light magic in her lessons, and she even spelled the one in her own room!

A gong sounds, and a herald announces the arrival of Grandnanae and Keeper Ireth. Papa picks up Olwyn and stands, as everyone else gets to their feet and Grandnanae walks to their seat with papae. Both of them are dressed in even prettier dresses than Olwyn’s. Keeper Ireth is in her elf form, but she has her horns still. They’re different than the horns Grandmama Kass has, they go up and out and they’re gold.

Babae leads Kel and her papae and brother to the table next to Olwyn, and Olwyn has to keep herself from talking until Grandnanae addresses everyone and welcomes them to the meal and talks for a little bit about peace and alliances and new beginnings while Olwyn twists in papa’s arms to get a better look at Kel.

She’s dressed in a deep emerald dress with silver embroidered trees on the hem and collar, and there are silver cuffs on her ears, and she’s trying to get a good look at Olwyn too.

When Grandnanae and Keeper Ireth sit down, the rest of them follow suit and Olwyn nearly jumps out of papa’s arms to settle on her cushion beside Kel. “Hi!” She chirps, “I’m Olwyn.”

Kel smiles back, “I’m Kel.”

“Do you have any favorite foods?” Olwyn leans over and grabs a small bowl of sliced mango. “This is my favorite fruit, do you wanna try some?”

Kel takes a bit and nods, “It’s good.” She doesn’t finish it though, Olwyn notices. Oh no, is she being a bad hostess already? Olwyn pauses, and tries to think about what she did wrong. Well, she’d asked Kel if she had any favorite foods...but she hadn’t given her time to answer. She’d just given Kel the things she liked. That wasn’t very nice of her. Olwyn tries again. “What kind of foods do you like, Kel?”

“I like spicy things,” Kel replies, as Olwyn waits and tries REALLY hard not to start talking until Kel finishes.

“Oh!” Olwyn nearly knocks over her glass of water as she reaches across the table—nanae grabs it and keeps it from spilling just in time—and grabs another bowl. “Wanna try these peppers? My babae really likes them. They’re too spicy for me though.”

Kel takes the offered pepper and goes for a second before her papa tells her that she has to eat the other foods on her plate too. Olwyn steals a glance at him as she nibbles another piece of mango. His name is Haninan, she knows, and he’s got his hair in braids like her, with little gold and glass beads in it. It’s pretty. Sitting beside him is Kel’s big brother June. June is dressed really fancy, like the empire elves, and he’s watching the room like he’s not sure who he’s supposed to talk to.

Papa keeps putting foods on Olwyn’s plate and—Olwyn grimaces—there it is, vegetables. She sighs. She’d really hoped that since it was a special night she would just get to eat good food, but nanae gives her a look that says “no”.

Babae and Haninan are talking about something over Olwyn’s head, as Olwyn leans over conspiratorially. “Do you like vegetables?”

“Some,” Kel nods, “Why?”

“Any of these?” Olwyn points to her own plate. When Kel points to a few Olwyn hurriedly transfers them over.

“Da’len,” Nanae pats the top of her head, “What are you doing?”

“I’m being a good betrothed!” Olwyn defends, “Kel likes these vegetables it would be remiss of me not to let her have them.” Remiss is one of the new words her tutor had taught her the other day.

Haninan laughs, and Nanae makes a face like they want to laugh but know that they shouldn’t. Instead they pat Olwyn’s head again, “Alright.”

“Tomorrow do you wanna play with my toys?” Olwyn turns back to Kel. “The adults are going to do boring stuff, but we can play in my rooms! You can choose all of the games, since you’re the guest.”

“That is very nice of you, Princess Olwyn.” Haninan smiles down at her.

The rest of the evening continues much the same. Olwyn and Kel both get distracted from talking about their favorite games by the new dancers in the middle of the courtyard, before Olwyn’s uncle Morwen walks forward and makes a speech about two groups coming together for peace, and about the wonders of music connecting people—uncle Morwen is very good with words—and then plays a piece of his own, inspired by traditional clan music, and the whole courtyard goes silent to listen. 

Olwyn barely notices she’s getting sleepy, until she finds herself being carried down the hall in papae’s arms. She doesn’t need to open her eyes to recognize him—he smells like his favorite jasmine perfume and paint. She doesn’t hear his words, not awake enough to make them out, but he’s talking with her other parents.

“Can I play with Kel tomorrow?” Olwyn murmurs, as papa Thenvunin pulls the blanket up to her chin. She feels the bed shift as Haurshos leaps onto it and settles against her back.

“Of course you can, da’len.” Babae answers, and then each of her parents gives her a kiss on the forehead. By the last, she’s fallen asleep.

---

Olwyn wakes the next morning before Nemael arrives to help her get ready for the day, too excited to stay in bed a moment longer. The sooner she gets dressed the sooner she can see Kel, after all. She is halfway through putting on her clothes when he walks in and pauses in the doorway to survey the chaos.

He laughs softly as he begins picking up the clothes scattered across the ground, “Eager to play with your new friend?”

“Kel’s never seen a big dog so babae says I can bring Haurshos to play and we’re gonna go to the big garden and the menagerie and we’re gonna have a picnic next to the koi pond because it’s romantic.”

Haurshos gives a soft woof of agreement from where he’s curled up on the bed.

“First we need to be properly dressed.” Nemael nods. “It’s going to be too cold for that dress today.”

Olwyn looks down at the dress she’d chosen. It’s one of her favorites, with golden bamboo and cranes on it. It makes her feel very grown up, like Grandnanae; all silk, with a red and gold sash with a beaded pendant in the shape of her formal seal. She frowns, “But this one’s my favorite.” Just in case Nemael forgot.

“What about the dress is your favorite part?” Nemael asks as he sits her down on the ottoman next to her closet.

“The sash,” Olwyn decides, “and the colors.”

“Well,” her nanny stands and heads for her closet. “What if we find some warmer clothes that are the same color and wear them with the sash?”

Olwyn thinks about it for a bit. She really wanted to show Kel her favorite dress. It makes her look important and royal. But...she also doesn’t want to be cold. She doesn’t like the cold very much. “Ok.”

In the end Olwyn finds herself in a pair of warm leggings and a long-sleeved tunic—Nemmy reminds her she’ll be running around, and leggings will make it easier to move—with a pretty navy blue coat with gold swans sewn into the collar that match her sash. Her hair is still in braids, so Nemael leaves them loose. The braids reminds her of babae’s hair, which has her in an even happier mood by the time nanae and papa come to take her to breakfast.

Haurshos whines, but stays with Nemael as they head out. He’s not allowed to come to the formal dining hall and has to stay until they go to the gardens. Olwyn hates it just as much as Haurshos, maybe even more. “Haurshos is really sad papa.” Olwyn pouts, tugging on Thenvunin’s hand. “Can’t he come to breakfast? He didn’t get to come to dinner and he waited so good. Please?”

Her papa wavers, but nanae simply wraps a fur-lined scarf around Olwyn’s neck and boops her nose. “You know better than to ask papa with that sad face. Haurshos will be fine for a little longer.”

Nanae always catches her when she tries to ask papa or babae for something she knows her other parents will say no to. Olwyn sighs, “But what if he forgets what I look like because I’m gone so much? Or he tries to eat the ducks because he’s so sad, like Screecher?”

Nanae snorts. “Screecher did not eat the ducks because they were sad, da’len.”

“Well it made Uncle Morwen sad,” Olwyn asserts, while papa sputters and begins telling her that Screecher was just doing what Screecher does and wasn’t trying to make anyone sad. Papa tells that story every time Screecher attacks an animal or person—which is often.

“Where is my little puppy?”

Olwyn recognizes the voice instantly, and tears away from papa’s hand as she careens down the hallway toward the tall figure at the end. “Father!”

Her father grabs her up and lifts her into the air as she giggles, before pressing a kiss to her forehead. He’s still wearing his traveling clothes, and smells like his hunting leathers and the snake hounds. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Olwyn wraps her arms around his neck, and breaths in the smell of the woods from his coat, before she leans back to look him in the eyes again. “Have you met my betrothed, Kel? She’s really pretty and she’s never seen a dog before!”

“Did your talk go well?” Nanae asks her father, as they continue down the hall. Nanae doesn’t like Olwyn’s grandmamae and grandmemae at all, Olwyn heard her talking with papa Thenvunin about it before, when Olwyn had gone to visit them for the first time. nanae Glory had said “NO! It’s too dangerous.” and papa had stayed behind with them so they wouldn’t be lonely when she had gone with father and papae and babae. She remembers how scared nanae had sounded, and how hard they’d hugged her when she’d come back.

“Of course,” Olwyn’s father answers, but even Olwyn knows he’s only saying it because they can’t talk about adult stuff when she’s there. Instead he turns to her again and smiles, “Your grandmothers sent you some presents to congratulate you on your betrothal. Would you like to see them?”

Olwyn loves presents. Even if sometimes her parents tell her she’s too young to play with some of the gifts that Grandmamae Andruil sends her. Last time Grandmemae Ghilan’nain sent her a gift it was Sunset, her very own moose-lion. She lives in the stables, and usually Olwyn has to sit in father’s lap to ride, but she’s old enough now to start riding lessons on her own because she’s practically all grown up. She’s about to say yes when she remembers something, “Did they get Kel any presents?”

Her father blinks, “Well, no.”

“Then I’ll wait till later,” Olwyn decides, and tries not to seem too disappointed. “I don’t wanna make her feel left out.”

She is such a good betrothed.

Her father sets her down, and holds her hand while they walk to the dining hall and listens to her describe the night before. The herald at the door announces them, before they walk inside. The imperial dining hall is full of five long tables made of dark wood, embedded with tops made of clear crystal. This is where the nobles of the court sit, those that wish to eat their meals in attendance of Grandnanae and the rest of the royal family.

This morning the tables are full to bursting, with imperial elves and members of Kel’s clan. Grandnanae Melarue is sitting at the sixth, final table with Keeper Ireth and her family. The table is longer than Olwyn remembers it being before, to accommodate the new arrivals, curving at both ends rather than straight across.

This time Olwyn doesn’t get to sit beside Kel because they’re seated at opposite sides of the table. She hears Kel ask her papa why, and Olwyn turns to her own parents with the same query, before she can’t stand it any longer and tries to get down from her seat so she can go talk with her. The debacle ends when she finds herself firmly seated in Grandnanae’s lap, with Kel in Keeper Ireth’s, so the two can talk.

Olwyn isn’t a baby, she doesn’t need to sit in someone’s lap, but she knows the adults like to think she does.

And she doesn’t get to sit in Grandnanae’s lap as much anymore, and she knows Grandnanae misses it and she doesn’t want their feelings to get hurt.

“My papa says that when we finish eating we can go and play and don’t have to wait for the adults to be done,” Olwyn tells Kel, “We get to spend the whole day together! And all of tomorrow too. And the day after that, to make sure we like each other. I think I already like you, cuz you like dogs and eat the vegetables that I don’t like so I don’t have to. But we can spend more time together too just to make sure. And because being betrothed means spending time together.”

Kel nods, “We need to play games so we can see if we like the same ones.”

“There’s a tree in the big garden that has lots of good branches for climbing and it’s the tallest tree ever,” Olwyn leans back in Grandnanae’s arms, “We can race to the top!”

Kel bounces in her mother’s arms, “I wanna see it.”

“After you eat,” Grandnanae reminds them.

Olwyn has never eaten her breakfast so fast. She slows down only when her grandmama and grandpapae tell her that she’ll get a stomach ache if she doesn’t stop, and pouts for a bit while she waits for her tummy to settle before babae comes to take her and Kel to go play, along with Kel’s papae Haninan.

By the time they get out of the dining hall both girls are giggling with excitement, ready to run off and play.

The most important thing, of course, is meeting Haurshos. Olwyn reminds her babae several times as they leave the dining hall that they need to go back to her rooms and get him. She refuses to be carried; she wants to walk with Kel.

She knows betrothed hold hands, but she doesn’t want to go too fast. Betrothals are long and she needs to be patient and understanding. She and Kel agree that waiting is important, so they’ve agreed on the end of the week for hand holding.

Olwyn can hear Haurshos whining as they near her rooms—he’s smelled her coming. When babae opens the door Haurshos tumbles through and nearly knocks her down. He doesn’t of course, because he’s the smartest dog in the world and he knows better than to knock her over when she could get hurt. Instead he covers her face with kisses.

Nemael walks out of Olwyn’s rooms behind Haurshos with a sigh, and begins wiping the slober off Olwyn’s cheeks, tutting. Olwyn is so preoccupied with scratching Haurshos’ chin that she almost forgets that she’s supposed to be showing Kel around. She turns to see her betrothed standing a few feet away, eyes wide, looking excited. Olwyn grins, “This is Haurshos!”

At the sound of his name, Haurshos looks over Olwyn’s head and turns to welcome Kel. He leans forward, tail wagging furiously as he sniffs Kel’s outstretched hands. When Kel lets out a giggle his tail wags even harder and he ventures a lick on her palm.

“He loves getting his ears scratched,” Olwyn shows her how, and Haurshos grunts and leans into Kel’s hand as she does so.

“He’s so soft!” Kel exclaims, and looks more than a little wonderstruck. She can’t seem to stop petting Haurshos, and Olwyn’s faithful hound shows no sign of moving.

Olwyn knows the concept of sharing, but is not something she’s ever had to do before. There were never any other children to share with. And while a part of her feels some odd tinge of worry, that maybe Haurshos might like Kel more now, she realizes that more than that worry she likes the idea of Haurshos and Kel getting along, the idea of all three of them there, having fun.

 Werewolves, as it happens, are somewhat prone to miscarriages, and to multiple births. No one is entirely sure why. In part because they’re mostly a secret society, and not prone to letting doctors and scientists poke and prod at them. There are some experts within the community, of course. Sympathy is a doctor and also a magical healer by trade, and so is Lensa, and Olwyn herself knows a good deal of first aid and has taken some online medical courses. But their facilities are pretty limited, and without exposure - which carry its own host of dangers and likely destruction - there’s only so much they can do.

 Still, when Olwyn finds out that she’s pregnant, they celebrate. With sparkling apple juice, and friends who pretend that they’re getting drunk on it anyway, and an impromptu sort-of-baby-shower that features a lot of unsolicited (but mostly fun) advice, and a whole lot of speculation. Marassal, eager soul that he is, is the first one to turn up with baby gifts - three sets of adorable footie pyjamas, in different patterns, all soft and small enough for a newborn. But he isn’t the only one to turn up at the apartment complex. Especially considering most of the pack lives there. In the span of the first month, they are given baby booties and blankets, toys and supply kits, and Beauty and Sym even come by to help paint the nursery room.

 And then…

 Well.

 Olwyn wakes up bleeding in the night. Trying not to panic, but somehow they both just know what’s happened even before Kel carries her out to the car, and gets her to the clinic.

 She tries to be objective about it. And, mostly, she finds that she can succeed. There are so many ways in which the process can go wrong. So many factors outside of their control. She tries to think of it as a false start, for her own sake, but Olwyn takes it harder. Blames herself, even when she knows that she shouldn’t - even when she tries to act like she doesn’t. Kel can see it, can hear it in the way she cries and struggles with it, and burns the bedsheets she bled on, and can’t go into the nursery for the first few days afterwards.

 Kel holds her, and tries to offer comfort. But sometimes there’s nothing for it, except to be there, and to share the grief.

 Even that is subject to Olwyn’s capacity for guilt, though.

 “I know it doesn’t… that I’m, I’m focusing too much on…” she tries to offer, one evening. After another night of crying, and Kel getting them both up and making them tea. Her wife’s hands curl around her favourite mug, soaking in the warmth. But she doesn’t sip it. Just sits and stares at the cracks in the old tabletop.

 Kel reaches over and steals one of her hands from the mug. Threading their fingers together.

 “It matters,” she says. “You’re allowed to focus on it, Vhenan.”

 Olwyn closes her eyes, and lets out a long breath.

 “You don’t,” she says.

 That stings.

 “Of course I do,” Kel replies, unable to hide it. But Olwyn shakes her head, then, in wordless apology.

 “No, not like that. Not like you don’t care. I just mean… you’re not fixating on…”

 Ah.

 Well, that’s true, too. She can admit.

 “It’s easier for me, on that front,” she says. “It happened to both of us, in a way, but in a more physical sense it happened to you. I was on the outside. So, I can be the one who looks at the practical things right now. And you can take your time. It’s alright, love, it really is.”

 Olwyn closes her eyes, and lets out a long breath.

 “You want to try again,” she says, with certainty.

 Kel doesn’t deny it.

 But…

 “There are a lot of ways to have children,” she says. “I’m good with all of them, to be honest. And I’m not in a hurry. If it doesn’t happen, then it doesn’t happen. Life’s still good. I’m not going anywhere, Olwyn. Even if you don’t want to try again - then we won’t, and we’ll live.”

 That gets her a surprised look. Which might sting a little too, except that Kel knows how hard it is to get over the idea that the people you love will leave you. That at the first sign of trouble or failure, the first ounce of suffering, they’ll decide you’re not worth it anymore, and then just cut themselves free. Olwyn’s fingers tighten around her own. She tugs, a little, and after a moment Kel goes. Standing up from her chair, and settling in front of her wife’s. She wraps her arms around her, and sinks into a long, slow kiss. The full moon is a few nights away, and usually when it is things start heating up between them. But not this month. This month everything is slow and steady, soft and careful. The both of them handling one another with a keen awareness for the fragility of everything.

 “It’s the curse,” Olwyn murmurs, before closing her own arms more tightly around her.

 Kel sighs, and squeezes her back.

 “Maybe. Or maybe this is just a bad thing that happens to a lot of people, for no good reason,” she counters. “Either way, it’s not your fault.”

 And that is the mantra for the next while, too. Not your fault.

 Sometimes Kel wonders if it’s hers, instead. Something she did or didn’t do. Something she could have noticed. Maybe she should have argued more, when Olwyn offered to be the one to carry their child. Maybe that would have been wiser or more practical. But at the time, her wife’s enthusiasm had been infectious, and Kel wasn’t really all that enamored with the concept of pregnancy.

 She thinks on it more, though. Through the full moon and the end of the month, through the pack meetings, and into the next, and so on. Gradually, things begin to regain their equilibrium. They sort of have to, she supposes - life doesn’t actually pause for grief or trauma, and both of them are trying to get back to it anyway. Their love life starts to heat up again. On their anniversary, Kel scoops her wife up into her arms, and carries her much more happily. Carting her off to bed after a long and romantic dinner; taking her time to pull off Olwyn’s jewellery, and free her hair from the fancy braids she wove it into.

 And Olwyn slides her hands up Kel’s dress, and hums as she unhooks her bra, and cups her breasts. The full moon is on its way again, and it shows in the way Olwyn shivers more at her touch. Pressing in closer, nipping with her kisses, and letting off a few soft growls of frustration whenever their clothing impedes them. Kel teases her, drawing it out. She pins her to the bed, and trails her lips down the sensitive side of her neck. Lets her touch linger at Olwyn’s hips, and knees, and leaves her in her dress even as she gets a thigh between her legs, and watches her breasts escape the flimsy straps of her top.

 “You look good enough to eat,” she declares.

 Olwyn huffs, and then twists her position enough that she can wrap her legs around Kel, and squeeze her close.

 “Then get a move on, before I flip us over and take care of this myself,” she replies, tauntingly.

 Kel laughs.

 “My pleasure.”

 She migrates her way down with kisses, even so. Letting Olwyn’s breasts stay in her bra, because it’s a pretty one and they look good in it. She pauses at her navel, and dips her tongue into it, first. Before she finishes unzipping the dress, and lets go of Olwyn enough so that she can pull it away. Then Kel takes a moment to admire her matching set of panties. Blue and lace and lovely next to the soft spray of freckles on Olwyn’s thighs. Those, of course, need kissing, which she indulges in, until Olwyn’s hips are twisting and her fingers and pressing very pointedly against the skin behind her ears. Hurry up, the gestures say.

 Kel toys with the band of Olwyn’s panties, but in the end, her first move is to press her mouth to them, and leave them on as she drags her tongue along the smooth center of the fabric.

 Already damp, and the scent of arousal is very strong.

 “Delicious,” she hums.

 Olwyn pinches one of her ears. The moonlight spills into the bedroom, but the heat that’s building up inside of her feels too fiery for it. It looks good on the two of them, though. Landing gently on Olwyn’s curves, and catching on the shine of her lips as she opens her mouth. But whatever she had been planning on saying turns into a soft moan, as Kel presses her legs a bit further apart, and then sets upon the task of devouring her through her panties. Dragging her tongue in long, deep strokes, until the fabric is thoroughly askew, and she can’t resist the tantalizing offer of the heat beneath it.

 Then she pushes the fabric aside, and indulges her fingers and her tongue. Pausing only to look up and enjoy the view, to watch as Olwyn struggles her way out of her bra and cups her own breasts, and bites her lip, and rocks her hips into her licks and touches. Unhesitating in a way that makes something in Kel’s chest ease. An unspoken apprehension, built up from months of carefulness, that finally loosens its jaws.

 She even feels inspired enough to go and retrieve her favourite strap-on, leaving Olwyn perilously close to her edge as she casts her own dress aside, and shimmies her way into it.

 “This alright?” she checks.

 Olwyn looks at her, her gaze all fervent in desire, and then reaches over to grab the belt of her strap-on, and tug her closer.

 “Yes,” she says, emphatically. Before she flushes even more, at her own boldness, and bites her lip again.

 It makes Kel laugh with relief, and steal a kiss from her lips. Pressing close enough to feel Olwyn’s breasts against her own, to feel her pulse hammering, and breathe in the send of her. Then she lines them up, and her wife grips her biceps tight, and lets out a low moan at the inward press of the strap-on.

 This particular toy isn’t two-way, but it still presses pleasantly on Kel’s own parts at the briefest bit of pressure. It means that she has to make fairly deep strokes to get much stimulus on her own end, though, and she takes it careful at first. At least until Olwyn reaches down to her ass and grips her tighter, pulling her in abruptly enough that the both cry out at the sensations. Her nerves tingle and Olwyn’s eyes are yellow-bright in the moonlight, her teeth a little sharper than usual, the whole of her spread out in an invitation that hedges as close to a demand as she ever gets.

 Kel moves faster, then. Picking up the pace and giving in to temptation again, until she’s lifted Olwyn’s hips, and the bed is rocking in time with her thrusts. Each inward stroke tantalizes and teases her further. Drawing her perilously close to her own finish, by the time Olwyn arches and then stiffens in a very distinctive way.

 She has to stop herself from carrying on, then. Mindful of the sensitivity of the aftermath. He chest heaves with her own breaths, but while she thinks Olwyn is still coming down from her own heights, her wife pulls her down for another kiss, and then very pointedly does roll them over. Closing one hand over the strap-on, still slick from being inside of her, and pressing it down, before she undoes the belt. And then she takes it off of Kel, and turns it in her grasp. Sending her a questioning look, as she lines it up with Kel’s own entrance.

 “My turn?” she suggests. Her voice sounds shaky, and the light in her eyes is bright enough that if Kel didn’t know any better, she’d think it was the full moon.

 She stretches her arms up, and spreads her legs wider in invitation.

 “If you want-”

 Her acceptance barely gets any further before her breath catches, then. As Olwyn presses her thumb to her clit, and starts to work the slick toy into her own entrance. She doesn’t put it on, not this time. Instead she just uses it by hand, making shallow strokes and rubbing firm circles against her, mindful enough of her nails that she switches to her knuckle after a moment, but this evening she doesn’t need to take them off, as Kel is close enough already. A few more strokes and she comes, calling for Olwyn.

 Who answers it by climbing back up onto the bed. Her limbs a bit shaky, her grip possessive as she wraps her arms around Kel. But Kel can’t claim the high ground on that, as she clutches her back just as fervently - and with no moonlight to blame for the covetous note in her murmured affections.

 All in all, a pretty normal anniversary for them.

 A few nights later, she wakes up with Olwyn’s head on her chest. Fingers idly tracing patterns over the bedspread. When Kel starts carding her own through her wife’s hair, she glances up at her.

 “Sorry. Did I wake you?” she asks.

 “Maybe. S’alright,” Kel replies, because it is, and she likes the way Olwyn smells when she’s halfway asleep. Likes the way she feels when she’s relaxed and easy against her. She presses a kiss to the top of her head - and mostly gets hair, but who’s counting - and eases into the rhythm of both of their breaths. Almost slipping away again, before Olwyn speaks.

 “I want to try again,” she says.

 Kel’s brain takes a minute to catch up with her, and she finds herself murmuring in reflexive agreement - of course, dear, if you want to - before the real meaning hits her. It wakes her up more, and has her sitting up against the pillows. Olwyn shifts so she’s beside her, and they can look at one another.

 “You’re sure?” Kel asks. Because, whilst Olwyn is not a doormat, she is an exceedingly generous person. And generous people need to be given the space to not be, when it’s needed.

 There’s no furrow to Olwyn’s brow, however. Just a steady - and very awake - sort of contemplation in her gaze.

 “I do,” she affirms. “But I… I’m not sure if… well. If it went wrong again, I don’t think know if I’d be able to try even more. Maybe, but… I’m just, I know I want to. I think I knew I would want to even before, but I just couldn’t let myself. It felt too much like I was just casting aside…”

 She trails off.

 Kel gets it, though. She brushes some strands away from Olwyn’s face, and then cups her cheeks in her hands, before pulling her close again.

 “We’ll talk specifics in the morning. It’ll be okay,” she promises.

 They don’t decide it that night, or even the next few days. But that’s the start of how Kel ends up on the ‘receiving’ end of the ritual, this time. An old elven one, which is neither as sexy as one might hope, nor as invasive as one might fear. It takes them a few tries, another six months in fact, but just when they’re starting to consider that the process might not actually work on Kel for some reason, she takes one of her scheduled tests and sees the blue lines come back positive.

 It fills her with more feelings than she can readily describe. Trepidation not the least among them - and that makes her wonder if they shouldn’t have maybe looked at other options more thoroughly. Though most, of course, were further complicated by the whole ‘werewolf’ thing. Adoption was especially tricky when you knew that any kid you took in was essentially being brought into that, on top of everything else.

 Though, of course, a baby being born into it probably isn’t much better.

 But then she takes a few breaths, and lingers in the bathroom for several minutes. Reminding herself that they’ve been over that. And that there really isn’t much problem with the whole werewolf thing.

 It’s been a while since surreal turn of her life has caught her off-guard. But it strikes her again, as she stares at the positive test. She was just… normal. All her life, just a normal elf. And now she’s married to a werewolf, and it turns out magic is more than she ever might have imagined. And she’s in love and she’s going to have to go on maternity leave and there is a person growing inside of her, which was dizzying enough when… when it was Olwyn. But there’s an added layer of strangeness to the experience, when it’s her own body that’s going to grow and change and… and hopefully accommodate what’s going on inside.

 Creators, she hopes it doesn’t… doesn’t go wrong.

 She’s not the praying type. But she maybe manages a few, just on the off-chance anyone is listening, before she leaves the bathroom. Olwyn knows when she’s testing. They have an agreement that she’s not supposed to wait, because when she sits and waits she gets worked up and over-thinks everything and worries if it takes too long. So she’s on the couch, in front of their television set, pretending that she’s watching House Hunters and not the clock next to it.

 But there’s really nothing for the look in her eyes, when she turns and stares at Kel, and the test in hand.

 Normally Kel just throws them out, when they’re negatives. Comes back out empty-handed.

 This one, she holds up.

 What should she say? ‘Surprise’ doesn’t really seem accurate or appropriate, and ‘congratulations’ seems weird when they’re both going to be celebrating the news.

 “It, um… it took,” she says, and then almost smacks herself in the forehead, because what the hell, that’s the probably the least romantic or enthusiastic or happy way to deliver the news. Which is, indeed, happy news.

 But Olwyn doesn’t seem terrible bothered, as her eyes go wide, and she shoots up from the couch like a rocket.

 “Really?!” she exclaims.

 Kel nods, rapidly, a few times. And then Olwyn reminds her that werewolves are fast, as she’s barely opened her mouth to attempt some slightly less awkward commentary before there are arms around her. Squeezing her tight - though only on the backs of her shoulders, she notes - as Olwyn makes a sound of incoherent joy, and then spins them both around.

 “It worked!” she exclaims. “It worked, it worked!”

 A laugh, equal parts delighted and nervous, bubbles out of Kel.

 “According to the test, anyway,” she says.

 “We have to go to the clinic,” Olwyn decides, immediately.

 And even though Kel isn’t quite as convinced that an immediate visit is called for, she gives in. Sym is on duty, and he takes the time to do a basic check-up, as well as pretty much just confirming what the test told her. It’s early days, yet, for anything more extensive. At Olwyn’s behest he does an ultrasound, too, but even that can only just confirm that there’s a speck of something in there, and not really give much more information either way.

 They do things differently this time, though. Telling everyone right away had also meant that everyone knew when they’d lost their first attempt, too, and that had stung throughout the community. And Kel’s pretty sure it had made Olwyn feel even worse in the end, too. Like she’s somehow let people down, in addition to losing the pregnancy.

 So this time, they don’t have to debate much to agree that they’re going to take a different approach. They keep it just between the two of them, and Sympathy, and Lensa, for the start. Kel goes into the nursery to take stock of what all they have again, though. And Olwyn ventures in too, though they don’t really talk about it. She runs her hand across the side of the crib, and dusts everything, and gets new curtains for the windows.

 The nursery looks out over the small, square park behind the housing block; and staring straight out gives a view of the forests, in the distance, rather than the city skyscrapers.

 If Kel starts acquiring a few more charms for good fortune and health, and happens to leave them on the nursery windowsill, Olwyn doesn’t bring it up, either.

 The first trimester is mostly marked by a lot of nausea. Pregnancy is uncomfortable, Kel finds. She throws up a lot more, and becomes infinitely more neurotic about her food. And not even in the ‘weird cravings’ sense that she’s expected - though she does find herself suddenly wanting to eat things like liver and curry and blackberries, that she’d never been entirely keen on before. Those aren’t weird foods, though, and the biggest shift is that she starts getting more particular about what she has with what. Suddenly fruit with cereal is unappealing - it has to be fruit or cereal. And meat she just wants on its own as often as not, too. Her normal breakfast-lunch-dinner habits break down into something more like six smaller meals a day,

 She throws up in the evenings pretty often, too, though not with enough regularity to cause concern.

 Concern doesn’t really make itself known until she goes in for her first proper ultrasound, and a check-up that has been slightly bumped up because Olwyn is convinced that she’s vomiting more than she should be, and is worried about preeclampsia. The check of her blood pressure doesn’t turn up any major problems, though - which is a relief.

 But the ultrasound provides another explanation for Kel’s increased quality time with the porcelain throne.

 “Lupine fertility strikes again,” Lensa declares, as she moves the wand around Kel’s stomach, and gestures to the blurry and - to Kel, anyway - undecipherable shapes on it. She’s too busy trying to parse what’s on the screen to really register the comment’s implications, at first. Olwyn is quicker on the uptake, and squeezes Kel’s hand tightly as her lips part a little in surprised.

 “Two?” she says.

 Wait, two what?

 And then Kel remembers. Werewolves are known for complicated pregnancies, and for multiple births.

 “Twins?” she asks, as her eyes go wide.

 Lensa grins at them.

 “At least,” she declares. “It could be triplets, it’s a little early to be completely sure. But it’s definitely more than one.”

 Kel blinks.

 She feels weirdly faint, for a few moments.

 It’s strange, she supposes, because obviously on some level she knew it was a possibility. But they’d had to work so hard to get pregnant - Olwyn’s pregnancy hadn’t taken in a hurry, either, and while she knows there are people who’ve gone through a lot more, it still feels like it took a monument combination of luck and effort to get here. And now somehow it’s not even just one little baby, it’s two. Two people, growing inside of her. Depending entirely upon her actions to make it to birth, and then depending on her and Olwyn to survive once they’re here.

 Two.

 At least.

 “Kel?” Olwyn asks her, as she blinks some more. She moves closer, obviously concerned, and brushes a few fingers across her forehead. “Are you okay?”

 She considers that. Olwyn’s wanted kids and Kel has too, and as big as this is… well…

 “We got a bargain,” she finally says. “Two kids for one pregnancy. What a steal!”

 Olwyn lets out a breath, and Lensa snorts at her. Kel leans her head against her wife’s, and stares at the weird little screen blobs.

 She can do this.