#ockissingweek

“Don’t forget I fell too--and on my sides. I’m afraid I’m nearly as graceful as you believe me to be.”

“But I wager you’re swifter than me. Ready to seize Leliana’s nug and bring it home?”

Nodding, David began to approach the aforementioned nug, trying to lure it closer to him while reassuring the creature neither one of them meant it any harm. “Hey there, little nug. Can you please follow me? Leliana really misses you and is worried sick about you. These lands are too dangerous for a cute fellow like yourself.”

The nug eyed David skeptically and made a few hops away from him, nearing the location of Kai’s snare. The dwarf shuffled away from the trap so the animal could falsely assume the bushes would be a safe haven to hide from them. After a minute or so of coaxing and slowly inching up to the nug, David held his breath, took a step, and lunged. Just as he hoped, the nug darted forward, bounding around him and towards the bushes. There was a snapping sound of wood colliding suddenly together and the two men rushed over the snare, relieved to see a startled, confused but unharmed nug tugging on the foot snare and creating indignant, high pitched chatter.

“No more marathons for you, little critter,” rejoiced Kai, handing the wooden cage over to David to safely gather the squirming nug in his arms. “It’s back to Leliana for you!”

“Don’t you want be warm and safe?” added David, petting the nug’s head with his free hand. The creature trilled, evidently considering his words and pondering over them even as they gently positioned and nudged the nug into its temporary cage.

“Thanks for your help. I still would have been rolling around in snow, failing my arms around, and chasing this blasted critter if you weren’t here.” Kai cradled the cage underneath his armpit, glad to see Leliana’s pet starting to calm down and sniff at the wood in its cage.

“I’m always happy to assist, especially when it comes to you,” David responded, not realizing what he was saying until the words left his tongue. Eyes widening, his cheeks flushed and not from the wintery chill cleaving to the air. Neither men could forget the kiss they shared by the presumed date Varric set up for them. “I mean, it’s just, you’re so---”

Kai reached out to touch his arm, silencing any awkward half-attempts to explain himself or switch the subject. “It’s all right, David. I completely understand, I feel the same way.”

David stared at him incredulously. “Seriously?!”

Chuckling nervously, Kai scratched along the nape of his neck as he bobbed his head. “Aye. I was hoping you’d want to come with me. Mainly because I can’t seem to get you out of my head.” Now he was the one blurting things out without mulling them over first!

Poor David Trevelyan began to blush even harder, the cerise hue remarkably stark against his fair skin and five o’clock shadow, and the colorless sky above them.  Suddenly, the two of them became awkward, unsure beings who teetered back and forth between making the first move or waiting for the other to initiate the next step. Kai had no idea what to do in this situation, he barely had many relationships that lasted longer than a cold drink on a blazing hot day but he didn’t view David fling material or a possible one night stand. No, he wanted to be around and with him longer than that yet being smooth wasn’t exactly his forte.

Throwing all caution into the wind, Kai made a gamble and leaned in, his intentions now painfully clearly as their gazes squarely met on and never wavered. As if sensing his desire, David tilted his head down, angling his neck to grant him a better view and position for what was about to transpire next. David then closed his eyes, his eyelashes so beautifully and curled that Kai nearly forgot what he had in mind before his eyelids innately fluttered shut and saved him from fumbling a kiss.

David’s lips were just as soft and inviting as Kai recalled, so pliable and eager yet shy, as if he was terrified he wasn’t good enough. He kept his grip on David’s arm to steady himself, even though the kiss was chaste and sweet, the lingering promise in the kiss sent his mind reeling. The landscape surrounding them might have been overbearingly chilling and harsh but with David, he felt nothing but smoldering, searing bliss.

An irritated, vociferous squeak sounded off from the cage, shattering the spell of the kiss and alerting them that Leliana’s nug had enough with its adventure and waiting around and wished to be reunited with its owner. Kai shifted the cage a little in-between his arm and the side of his torso all the while watching David blink once or twice as he recovered from the kiss and sent him a small, content beam. Like a youth in love for the first time, Kai’s heart skipped a beat at his quiet smile, a smile only meant for him and him alone.

“Maybe we can talk about this later, after we deliver Leliana her nug?” he suggested, inwardly praying the human noble would agree. If this spark between him and David did ignited into something truly special, he was going buy Varric the best thank you present ever.

Hope flashed brilliantly across David’s handsome features, the smile growing. “I would like that very much, Kai. Meet you at the tavern afterwards?”

“Serah Hawke, you need to start pushing,” pleased one of the mages. “We don’t know how long it will take the Inquisitor to arrive and you can’t stall any longer.”

Brynhild was about to argue back when throes wracked her entire body, concentrating the most on her belly, and she gasped vociferously. Her breathing was now hitched and raspy until Carver awkwardly rubbed her back to calm her down. Unable to prevent the labor from commencing until Thanatos was present, she let out a string of curses and began pushing.

“That’s it!” cried out Mother Giselle. “We can see the head clearly now.”

Brynhild felt herself pushing again, eyes squeezed shut as she grunted, then screamed out in frustration, pain, and exhaustion, holding on to her brother’s hand more tautly than before. The door to her chambers shuddered open with a resounding bang, startling many of the healers. Brynhild did not need to open her eyes to know who came rushing in so brazenly and ignored Mother Giselle’s disapproving chiding. Her lover, her partner, was here at last.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he panted, kneeling down beside her bed as her teal eyes started adoringly at him. “I want as fast as I could. This castle has too many damn stairs!”

If she had the energy, she would have chortled. Instead, she smiled wearily. “It’s all right, Thanatos. You’re just in time.”

“Push!” interjected Mother Giselle.

“What else do you think I’ve been doing? Taking a shit?” retorted Brynhild caustically. Yet she continued to push and push until something slightly large and solid slipped between and then passed her legs, followed by incessant, raucous wailing.

“It’s a girl!” announced Mother Giselle, beaming with pride as she handed the squalling, ruddy infant over to a mage for the girl to be cleaned, examined, and swaddled. There was a patch of black fuzz on her head and inconceivable rapture flooded through both Brynhild and Thanatos as they watched the mage count their baby daughter’s fingers and toes.

“We have a girl,” whispered Thanatos in amazement, his voice so low that only she heard him.

“And she’ll have a sister or brother very soon,” Brynhild answered, grimacing as discomfort wracked her belly again and here hands and toes clenched instinctively. Immediately, Mother Giselle sat back in front of her and much to the Champion of Kirkwall’s irritation, the coaching resumed.

“Keep pushing once more, Serah Hawke! The second baby hasn’t made his or her appearance just yet.”

“That’s what Father claimed happened to Bethany when Mother giving birth to us,” commented Carver lightheartedly, trying to distract his older sister from the pain and discomfort because he sensed (and rightfully so) she was about snap at Mother Giselle again. “She didn’t want to leave the warmth of Mother’s womb supposedly.”

“Well, just like with our sister, this child has to come out soon because I’m going to carry him or her around for the rest of my life,” grumbled Brynhild, squinting her eyes shut as she gave another push or two with all her might. She prayed to the Maker her second baby was positioned properly and there would be no complications. She might have been slightly nervous about giving birth to not one but two infants yet Thanatos was even more concerned about all the possible outcomes for both during and after labor. After everything they have been through, losing her now would absolutely devastate him. His fear was quite understandable, for she too would be utterly lost and bereft if death claimed him too soon. His grip around her right hand was reassuring though, to say the least.

Minutes dragged by, despite all the tension permeating the air and how much energy she exerted to push over and over again that made the moment seem to last as long as an hour or more, the second child finally relented and was born twenty minutes after their sister.

“Congratulations, Inquisitor and Serah Hawke! You have a boy!” Mother Giselle displayed and equally chubby, big, and cerise faced infant with fuzzy raven hair who squawked indignantly about being ripped away from his warm, hospitable shelter.

“A girl and a boy,” murmured Thanatos, his eyes never leaving their son even as another mage took him from Mother Giselle to clean and change him. “I cannot thank you enough for what you have accomplished--no, what you have gifted to us both, Brynhild. Those twins are our treasures I cannot believe they are finally here.” He leaned in to kiss her hot, sweaty forehead, wishing he could do more if she wasn’t so exhausted or if they were alone and not surrounded by the present company. So for now, he settled for also kidding her beckoning mouth as she Brynhild’s teal eyes laughed lovingly and sang with delight at his tenderness.

“Believe it, Thanatos,” she said, smiling at his soft, thankful kisses. “We’re a family now.”

Their two children were soon brought to them once the sheets to her bed were changed and Brynhild was compelled to dressin a fresh long, overgrown undershirt prior to being coaxed back to bed to rest. Once the baby girl was tucked in Thanatos’s arms and their baby boy snugly secured in hers, only then did everyone file out to grant the couple some privacy. Even Carver managed to drag Conan out with the excuse to take him out for a walk.

“We still need to find them names,” she reminded him after the silenced stretched onward as they were completely engrossed and spellbound by the preciousness of their newborns. “Or else our companions will do it for us. I saw the list Varric made and I don’t know whether to laugh or burn said list.”

“Can’t be any worse than the ones Cassandra has suggested. They’re so… Andrastian.”

They chuckled un unison and Brynhild gently touched her son’s soft, pudgy fist. “We still time to decide later.”

Thanatos nodded, his gaze continually glued to their daughter. “That we do. In the end, all that matters is they are here and healthy.”

The Force guided him to a nearby corridor, through the winding halls before taking him an arched door wrought with flowery designs and archaic symbols and there, behind that door, throbbed Phaedra’s presence and link to the Force. “Phaedra, I’m here!” Hyal shouted over the crackling fire and the groaning of the building’s impending collapse. He ignited his lightsaber, intending to carve the door open with his weapon and drag his lover to safety. Funnily enough, through the solid metallic surface of the door emerged Phaedra’s lightsaber, the tip peeking out as a jagged, lopsided circle began to take shape, red hot lines following in its wake. Despite the situation, he couldn’t help but cock a half grin. Apparently, great minds think alike for Phaedra was doing the exact same tactic he had in mind.

Deactivating his lightsaber, Hyal spend the time waiting to clear out the hallway and smoother the closing flames with the Force, piling debris after debris until the strength of the inferno weakened and slowly evanesced from his view. When he turned around, there was a gaping hole in the closed door and Phaedra stumbled outside, her azure features and clothes completely caked in soot and blood. In an instant, he was at her side, catching her as she swayed forward and hacked violently, her breathing hoarse and ragged from all the smoke she probably inhaled.

“Phaedra, we’ll be out of this mess soon. I already sent backup from our teams the moment I stepped foot into this hellish place.” Innately, he stroked her hair and then briefly, her back, hoping to calm her body and keep her breathing and focused before they had to move. The warmth from her huddled form, so nigh and pressed up against him, soothed Hyal. He kissed the top of her head, reassuring himself she was really here, in his arms, and to also assuage her fears that he was no hallucination from her oxygen deprived self.

“Hyal...I can’t believe you,” Phaedra croaked out, crimson eyes wide in wonder at him.

He blinked. “What do you mean?”

Feebly, she gestured to their surroundings, pointing out all the fiery damage wrought by the hungry, vermilion jaws that still haunted his dreams at times. “The fire… you still are wary of it.” That was kind of her to say that rather than admit his swallowing fear of the said beastly inferno.

“Yeah but my love for you is far more more important and stronger than my...reservations towards fire.” He rested her head on his shoulder, propping her up to her feet as he leaned against the wall for support. “I would burst through every burning building in the galaxy to keep you safe and fighting for another day, Phaedra. Never doubt that.”

A shadow of a smile grazed her lips. “I never did, Hyal. I’m just touched, that’s all.”

With that said, Hyal’s small grin widened ever so slightly. And somehow, through all the raging, smoking chambers of inferno and smoldering heat, the way back to the base’s entrance didn’t seem so awful. It was as if the flames could not touch or hold any power over him with Phaedra at his side.

And that was how the two of them ended up procuring everyday clothes from the laundry room and posed as the head caters  for tonight’s banquet. Somehow, there managed to be clothes that fit Regan and she found a schick, colorful silk scarf to drap around her head and partly cover her mouth to hide most of her Zabrak tattoos and the twin crescent scars on her mouth. Her blaster was hidden amongst her loose blouse and pants while Aram concealed his around inside his boot. The security guards hassled them only briefly and then let them through to the next hallway once they announced they were the caters Miss Nastalia hired and they needed to discuss business as well as good arrangements.

Just as Regan suspected, her target was in her room, finalizing her outfit and appearance for tonight.

“Are you going to shoot her the moment she admits us into her chambers?” whispered Aram as they briskly strolling down the halls. “That’s going to cause some ruckus and attention that ends with us getting chased and shot at. Have any escape plans?”

Despite herself, she grinned at his queries. “That’s a ‘yes’ to the latter.” Without offering any explanations, she knocked on the door, only waiting for about ten seconds prior to an airy, bored voice beckoned them in.

“Finally, there are some people in the business of arriving early,” droned out Nastalia Argoria as she applied blush to her face, motioning for the two of them to sit. “Everyone else is lagging behind and I fear the florist and decorator will rush their work since they won’t be here until twenty minutes after the agreed time.”

“What a pity,” Aram responded with feigned sympathy as he and Regan quietly retrieved their pistols.

“Some people cannot comprehend time management,” added Regan, continuing the act as she narrowed her paralysis dart on the unsuspecting woman. “Or the consequences in crossing the Empire.” The dart flew from her gauntlet and embedded itself into the woman’s back. Her target dropped like a fly and Regan approached her as Aram stood guard at the door.

“Scream and I’ll shoot,” she ordered. The socialiste whimpered. The dart paralyzed her body but her tongue could still wag. “Where are you housing the Imperial traitor and data you stole?”

“I-I don’t know!” stammered out  the no longer bored, annoyed businesswoman. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“They always don’t,” mused Aram out loud as he crossed his arms and smirked at the scene unfolding before him.

“I don’t have to listen to you lie with every breath you take,” growled Regan, smacking Nastalia across the face with the end of her blaster. Her pained cry startled Aram for a second or two but he said nothing, not appearing like he cared enough to interfere with her methods. After all, he still wanted half of that bounty prize.

Her target continued to whimper as an ugly, dark bruise began to form and Regan rolled her eyes at Nastalia’s antics--her acting fooled no one. Just when she was about to push her again, the Zabrak bounty hunter heard the sound of jumping and Aram firing off his blaster. She lept and then rolled away, aiming her blaster at the intruder who came from the bedroom. One look at the new woman’s face, a human sporting a tight bun and pursed, thin lips, confirmed the bounty hunter this was the traitor she was hired to kill. Aram was distracting her long enough for Regan to get a decent shot in, her finger squeezing the trigger with ease. Both her and his blaster fired at the same time--her hit got the traitor in the temple while his shot struck her shot. The traitor latently sank to the ground, head first into the carpet. Nastalia sighed in exasperation.

“How useless…” she grumbled. “So now that you killed your traitor, can you please cease this abhorrent interrogation. I don’t have the data or whatever information you’re searching for.”

“Check the corpse and see if there is anything on her. If you find nothing, take a look in the bedroom.” ordered Regan, ignoring Nastalia’s words but watching how that woman’s eyes darted anxiously to the bedroom once more, like something precious was in there she needed to watch over.

“You know, I’d be more interested in checking out your bedroom,” Aram remarked drolly, sending her a wink when she rolled her eyes. Funny, usually she’d be scowling at people’s attempts to make a pass at her but Aram was tolerable. Not mention he was roguish and attractive  for a human, particularly with that long jagged scar running down his features. A man with scars impressed her, for they told her small stories of his life and what battles he fought, molding him into a more experience man. She wondered if he had any more elsewhere on his body.

“That’s a conversation for another time, when we’re done with this assignment,” Regan chided, neither flirting back or discouraging his attempts. The Zabrak bounty hunter was still trying to figure this perplexing yet oddly charming smuggler out. Certainly they were allies now but anything could change once their partnership was at an end.

While Aram first searched the dead traitor and found nothing, he proceeded to the bedroom, Regan continued to observed the Nastalia lady and trained her blaster squarely on her forehead. The snobbish businesswoman wasn’t going to talk about the data she stole but she still was clearly in the mood to chat about anything else.

“I still cannot believe a pair of filthy, scruffy scumbags like you managed to trespass my premises and fool my guards! Clearly, I’ll have to change my security once this is over.”

A feral grin slowly spread itself across Regan’s black tattooed, scarred lips, allowing her stance to relax in a casual manner to throw her target off and let the fear sink in. “What makes you think you’ll be alive once I found what I came here for. I was given two bounties to settle, not one.”

Nastalia’s eyes widen at the implication and before she could holler for help, Regan jammed her scarf into her mouth and practically down her throat, relishing her victim’s twitching and garbled attempts at speech now she was properly gagged. “Aram, can you hurry it up? We don’t have all day!”

“Slow and steady wins the race, Regan. But lucky for us, I found where Miss Fancypants keeps her safe. Easy to crack.” The smuggler emerged from the bedroom, dangling a datapad between his thumb and forefinger. “Looks like we hit the jackpot, if this is the stolen data you sought.”

There was no mistaking the alarm flashing in the target’s eyes as he handed the datapad over to Regan, who smirked victoriously as she scrolled through the contents of the files. Each and every page was marked by Imperial scientists and military agents, and a few Sith. After all the trouble that went into infiltrating this estate, it was relief to have crucial Imperial information back in her hands and away from people like Nastalia Argoria to sell to the highest bidder amongst enemies of the Empire. And she couldn’t wait to spend credits on a much needed relaxation.

“This is definitely what we came here for,” Regan confirmed, pointing her blaster at the limp businesswoman, who was trying to scream with her gag right before she was shot point blank in the forehead. Silencing that schemer would send a clear message to everyone else who might plan to house traitors of the Empire who made off with Imperial secrets.

“That was quick,” remarked Aram, gesturing to the now dead Nastalia. “Is that how you usually operate?”

“When it’s necessary. I don’t want us to overstay our welcome because sooner or later, people are going to wonder why she hasn’t emerged from her chambers.” She tilted her head over at a nearby window. “And that’s our escape plan.”

Aram whipped his head from her to the window and back at her, his eyes widening so rapidly in shock that Regan could hardly resist to grin cheekily at his reaction. Now it was her turn to put him through an not ideal strategy!

“I’m not jumping out of that window, there is no way we’ll land without breaking any bones.”

She scoffed. “Who said anything about jumping? I’m a fucking bounty hunter, we have jetpacks.” For emphasises, she pulled the loose fitting blouse up over her head and yanked it away, revealing a set of advanced jetpacks strapped to her back. The smuggler let out a low whistle as he studied their getaway device.

“How the hell did I miss that before?”

“Because you were too busy staring at my ass to notice.”

Warm, rich laughter bubbled out of him at her ripostle. “Touche!” The chuckling then faded as he observed the jetpack once more. “I only see one. Are you going to carry me or do I have to hold on?” He didn’t bring up the possibility that she was leaving him behind, which hadn’t crossed her mind until now. Aram made a better friend and foe and besides, she was beginning to warm up to him.

“Just wrap your arms around me and hold tight--I’ll do the same. And don’t be startled when the jetpack roars to life.”

The smuggler appeared positively gleeful at her choice of words, his grin so wide and suggestive Regan almost craved to smack it off his face. Key word almost. “That’s more than I ever expected to share with you. The more I hoped for when all of this was over and done with was a kiss.”

She arched one incredulous eyebrow. “Really? Just a kiss?” came her dry respond as Aram followed her earlier instructions and gripped her back tight, his legs prepared to encircle themselves around her thighs. Their faces were now closer than they had ever been before and she noticed what a deep green his eyes were. They reminded her of the jungles of Dromund Kaas or the hills her and her sister Goneril ran around with  their father when they were children. That was a memory she hadn’t pondered about for a long time.

“Well, I can’t be too greedy,” admitted Aram, still sporting that cheeky grin of his. “After all, we only have known one another for about a week and not everyone is willing to kiss something they just met, or even go further than that.”

As if on cue, her jetpack roared to life, the heat from the engines warming her rear and legs as she stepped towards the double balcony windows, lifting both her and Aram up high and over the stone sculpted balcony. With such incredible force and speed, they were able to leave the opulent, privately ensconced estate beyond in the matter of minutes, ignoring the passersby outside who stared up at them in absolute wonder and confusion. Her exit strategies were never quite subtle.

“We might have to blast our way to your ship,” she warned Aram  through the blaring of the wind and her jetpack’s humming. “There is a chance Nastalia’s entries might realize something is wrong.”

“They’re not that clever to make the connections that soon. They will give her another hour and by then, we’ll be long gone.” At her inquiring look, he elaborated. “I may have stolen or broke in Miss Fancypants’s manor before. They will don’t know it was me.”

Regan Sedae wondered if those guards did not truly care about their now deed mistress or they really were that incompetent. Or Aram Dakarii was that good at his job

Due the strain on her jetpack of carrying two persons instead of just one, she was forced to land earlier than intended and they used speeders to return to the docking center to get back to Aram’s ship. What they did not plan out was for a customs officer blocking their passage and preventing them from leaving the planet with ease. They needed a cover story, one that wouldn’t provoke an avalanche of questions and suspicions.

“Oh, my boyfriend and I were just her for a little lover’s retreat!” Regan answered with a feigned sweet voice to the officer’s first query. Impulsively, she grabbed Aram’s face with both hands and kissed him fully on the lips, displaying the image of a passionate girlfriend who couldn’t get enough of her lover. While Aram didn’t expected the kiss at first, he was quick to join in and keep up the act. One of his hand snaked itself up her back while the other rested firmly on her left hip, their height differences making the impromptu kiss interesting to perform. His tongue teasingly forked itself across her slightly parted lips and in return, she let out a little moan against their kiss, refusing to let him outdo her in this charade of theirs. After a half of a minute of them kissing and trying to top each other in terms of intensifying their ploy, they broke away to face a very tired and annoyed customs officer.

“That’s great,” he replied sardonically. “And where are you two heading now?”

“Tatooine,” Aram answered swiftly. Tatooine was technically their destination to collect the bounty so at least, that reply was true. He then clasped his hand around Regan and brought her hand to his mouth, lingering over her knuckles in an airy, tender manner. “I cannot believe my vacation with my gorgeous honeybun is over.”

Her eyes flashed at the cheesy nickname. Two could play at that game. “Me neither, smoochie-poo. At least we’ll be alone and together on the ride back home.” As she spoke, she watched the officer out of the corner of her eye. The man looked entirely fed up with their overt display of affection. Perfect!

“Take your kissing party inside your ship. Safe travels.” grumbled out the customs officer and waved them through.

Once they boarded his ship and could relax, Regan placed both hands on her hips and cut him an incredulous, ill humored glance. “Honeybun? Really?”

“Don’t look at me, you call me smoochie-poo! Mine was at least cute.” An impish glean sparked in his verdant eyes, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards. “Would you instead prefer if I had called you sugar tits?”

The Zabrak tried to maintain a straight face yet failed, a snort escaping her restraints. “Do that and you’re a dead man, Aram.”

Chortling and then, a nod of understanding was his first response. “Fair enough.” And his lively verdant eyes were now full of mirth and intrigue. Compared to her first ride with him, the return ride would be much more comfortable and easier to enjoy.

Sitting down beside him, Katherine took one of her husband’s hands and bright it close to her chest, right near her heart. “Are you remembering your sister?” Egil  didn’t need to answer, she could see the truth so anguishly displayed in his stormy grey eyes, breaking through his usually stolid exterior. From what he told her, Ragna was Danica’s age when she had Sigrid and the notion of losing their firstborn daughter chilled her to the bone. While there were no current complications that last  time she inquired the doctor (a human who knew of the Swenhaugen House’s secret identity as shapeshifters and was particularly loyal to Egil’s side of the family) prior to Danica had began pushing. She wanted to hold her daughter’s hand through it all but Werner insisted it would be him at Danica;s side, not her own mother. Bastard probably relished watching all the pain her daughter was going through to bring their baby into this trouble world. Katherine hoped Danica would squeeze Werner’s hand so hard that it’ll shatter.

“It also does not help that her husband --” he spat the word out as if it was poison, “-- doesn’t care a flying fig about her. If she dies and he tries to take our grandchild away from us, I’ll butcher him.” His fist clenched underneath her hand and the vampire-fallen angel hybrid smiled a little despite the circumstances. Nothing or no one could truly damper her husband’s resolve or fighting spirit.

“And I’ll join in,” she vowed, her gaze just as steady and solemn as his. “But right now, all we can do is wait and pray for the best possible outcome for Danica.”

Resting his forehead against hers, Egil leaned in to kiss her, feeling her soft lips press up against his as Katherine returned the gesture, all their worries, hopes, and prayers mingling together in that brief but loving kiss. She blinked almost sleepily as he moved to also kiss her brow, his fingers unclenching beneath her grasp.

“You know we’re going to spoil that grandchild of ours rotten,” he finally spoke after a few minutes of silence, a small smile creeping on his chiseled visage.

Giggles bubbled out of Katherine after so many hours fraught with anxiety and uncertainty, and now, she was beginning to feel a little bit lighter. “Of course we are! Between us, your mother, Danica, and the rest of our children, that baby will be loved oh so dearly.”

Barely an hour had passed before strident, wailing screams erupted throughout the waiting room, breaking both Katherine and Egil out of their thoughtful conversation with Egil’s mother, Hedda Swenhaugen, who arrived at the hospital twenty minutes ago with Keiran, Kasper, and Aurelia. Sigrid and her family were detained at the moment but would soon be there to wish the new additional to the Swenhaugen family well. Egil recognized those cries belonged to an infant and one look at his wife showed she too was eager to receive updated news. Prior to they could leave to inquire once more about Danica’s health as well as the baby’s, one of the nurses who helped with the birth came out to address the waiting Swenhaugen family.

“Mr. and Mrs. Swenhaugen?” she called out and one cue, they rushed to her.

“Is everything all right? How are the baby and our daughter?” The sight of the nurse’s broad grin made Egil’s heart soar and then banish his inner trepidations. Danica and her newborn would live.

“Both mother and child are doing just fine now. And congratulations on your grandson!”