Epilogue
Ul had spent most of the day in the dark, underwater, waiting for the moment he once believed impossible.
He was going to miss the Christmas celebrations with Dawson if the hatchling didn’t come out soon—even though it wasn’t a celebration on Felloi, it was important to Dawson—but he didn’t want to miss the hatching either.
At the winter solstice feast, he had announced their engagement. Regardless of the outcome, Dawson was his. Selfishly, he wanted everything. Not for his kingdom, but for himself. He wanted more than duty and putting Felloi first.
The hatchling pushed the clear egg as if testing the strength of the casing, the same way he had yesterday.
Yesterday, he hadn’t broken through, merely stretched and turned around.
Ul wanted to rip the egg open, but he had to wait.
In the egg, the hatchling was protected; once out, he’d have to survive in the sea.
It was always better to wait where possible.
Only one of the eggs he’d pulled from the cave during the collapse had survived.
Enough days had passed that the egg casing should be starting to break down, making the hatching easy.
He tried to be calm. A few more heartbeats didn’t matter when he had waited for so long.
The hatchling stretched again, and Ul held his breath.
He was more active today. It had to be today.
Even though he would be safe in the cave, Ul didn’t want him to hatch and be alone.
The hatchling extended all eight limbs, and the casing tore, releasing him into the water.
He tumbled a few times, limbs flailing as if not sure what to do with all the space.
Ul waited, his markings glowing yellow so the hatchling could find him in the dark, even though all he wanted to do was swim over to him.
This first swim was important for a hatching to be able to breathe on land.
It opened their chest and allowed their lungs to expand.
The hatchling spun again, and Ul tensed, willing him to succeed.
He moved a little closer. The hatchling oriented himself and then swam toward him.
Ul caught him and held him gently, well aware of how soft a hatchling’s cartilage was. He kissed the top of his head.
His first hatchling, and he was perfect in every way.
He grabbed the remains of the egg casing with a tentacle and ascended slowly, knowing that the transfer to the rock pool needed to be done swiftly once they were out of the water, so he enjoyed these few moments of weightlessness and bonding before making his way up the stairs and to the rock pool.
Dawson sat on the edge. “I felt you get out of bed.”
“I needed to check, but I wanted to be with you.” Ul stepped into the pool and sat, so the hatchling could take his time to let go and explore. “I wanted to be with both of you.”
Dawson smiled. “That’s why I came down.”
Or had Dawson been worried that something might go wrong?
It didn’t matter. He was here, and they were together. The hatchling clung to him, as if he wasn’t ready to explore the pool. “I thought I might check and then return to bed to give you your present.”
“This is an excellent present. Merry Christmas, Ul.” Dawson leaned over and kissed him.
“Join me…us.” The hatchling made his way along Ul’s arm.
“He’s so small. And so see through,” Dawson whispered as he took off the cloak he’d thrown on over his night-tunic. He dropped it on the ground and pulled the tunic over his head.
“It won’t take long for his skin to darken. Come here so he can meet you.” Ul extended a tentacle to Dawson, and Dawson slid in next to him.
The curious hatchling reached out to touch Dawson, as if not sure what to make of the non-blue person.
“We will need to name him,” Ul said. He hadn’t wanted to think of names before he hatched. He had done that too many times.
“Do you have family names you should use?” The hatchling wrapped a tentacle around Dawson’s finger.
“Yes, but I am not sure that I want to use them.” They were in a new world, and they needed to make new traditions without losing their old ones.
The hatchling watched them both with big, dark eyes. “Do you think he knows we’re his parents?”
“I don’t remember being that small.” Ul smiled as the hatchling moved across to Dawson’s chest. “But he’ll get to know us. Do you want to stay here for a bit?”
“Yeah. Do we need to feed him?”
“He will eat the egg casing first, then small fish.” The casing had already sunk to the bottom of the pool.
Dawson ran a fingertip over their hatchling’s head, and the hatchling grabbed his finger with a tentacle. Ul smiled, watching the two of them together. This was everything he’d ever wanted.
He leaned over and kissed Dawson. “Merry Christmas, my love.”