Epilogue #2
But Raye was the byrgi’s watcher, and she was still fully committed to Kalfr’s goal of making a new kind of band — one that wielded its cleverness and ingenuity to overcome its foes, and took advantage of each member’s strengths and skills.
For this particular endeavour, alongside Rurik’s pockmarks, Fengr had sensed the men’s numbers and approach, Egil had scented their origins, Eyolf and Iyolf had handled the pets, and Grum had baked the sweetcakes — which, Raye had learned, often came in handy when diffusing such incidents, since most travelling men were hungry, and were often willing to overlook certain irregularities in exchange for delicious fresh treats.
So despite Kalfr and Gaelfr not liking this, Raye had held firm to her role and her power, and asked for their trust, and their support.
And they’d both freely given it, though Raye could admit to a pang of guilt every time — especially about Gaelfr, who had become even more obsessively protective these past months, and considered it a great personal affront to see Raye in any kind of danger.
And who, even now, was still frantically caressing her all over, while growling irritated orders at Rurik to hurry up and heal her faster.
“I’m fine, Gael,” Raye told him with exasperated fondness, circling her arm around his waist. “Although” — she met his eyes, gave him an impish grin — “I’ll admit, I am a little thirsty, if you don’t mind?”
It was always the easiest way to settle him again, and his eyes flared with hunger and relief as he straightened and nodded, and began tugging her toward the back bedroom.
While Kalfr fondly chuckled behind them, and told them he would go keep an eye on Svein, who was still down below with Julian, finishing his morning lessons.
Raye gratefully called back her thanks as Gaelfr herded her into the room, and guided her down onto her side on the bed, so he could carefully lie down the other way beside her, and fit them both together.
It was a variation of the way they’d done it that early memorable night at her cottage, and one they’d often returned to since — and Raye moaned at the familiar rich taste of his seed on her tongue, and the shimmering thrill of his own tongue lapping between her legs.
Tending her with astonishing sweetness, offering her all his kindness and fealty and care, while wielding his own power, too.
And Raye was more than happy to meet him in it, to trust him, to welcome all his scars and his gifts, and offer up her own in return.
“Thank you, Gael,” she murmured afterwards, shoving up to sit on the bed, stroking at her satisfyingly full belly. “I’m so blessed to have a mate who takes such good care of me.”
Gaelfr answered with a dismissive grunt, but he looked undeniably pleased, and his hand settled against hers, stroking with palpable reverence over the ever-growing roundness of her belly.
And as he shifted closer beside her, Raye could easily scent his peace, his contentment — and she could feel it, too, just as strong as her own.
It was another gift he’d helped to give her these past months, and it had happened so gradually she’d scarcely noticed — but at some point, she’d realized that she could scent when Kalfr or Gaelfr were near, and she could even sense how they felt, too.
Whether it was peace, or pleasure, or hunger, or fear, or pain.
An awareness that felt almost overwhelming, sometimes, enough that she would feel compelled to go offer her help and comfort, and do all within her power to draw out her mates’ peace and pleasure again.
Just like Gaelfr had warned her about, all those months ago, and she now held a deep, abiding understanding of why he’d felt so driven to help and heal his wounded ástvinur, no matter the cost.
But she knew it had drawn them all closer, and deepened their bonds with each other — and alongside it, just as Aulis had promised, she’d gained some other helpful gifts, too.
One day, a few months before, she’d entirely forgotten to take the lamp when she’d gone downstairs, and she’d still been able to see underground, enough to navigate through what should have been pitch-darkness.
She’d also found that her overall sense of smell had significantly improved, which had proven very helpful when cooking and gardening, and somewhat less helpful with pregnancy-related aversions and nausea — but luckily, all Gaelfr’s feeding seemed to help with those, too.
And despite the fact that Raye was carrying two apparently large and hungry orc sons, she’d still felt remarkably healthy and energetic throughout her pregnancy, and she’d continued her daily training, though with several modifications from Gaelfr for her safety.
“Should you wish to rest further for a spell, saeta?” Gaelfr asked now, still stroking at Raye’s belly. “Or have a second round, mayhap?”
It was a surprisingly appealing thought, but Raye wryly smiled at him as she tugged him up to his feet. “You know I’d love to,” she said, “but Kalfr and I didn’t get a chance to do our survey yet, and we still have so much to get ready today. Our guests will be arriving before we know it.”
She was referring to the event they’d all been planning for weeks, now — a proper Bautul Brawl.
Which was apparently not only a fighting tournament, as the title would suggest, but also a clan-wide event, held beneath the full moon, that featured music, dancing, performances, blessings, and of course, as much delicious Bautul cooking as you could eat.
The Brawl was another one of the lost Bautul traditions that Kalfr had unearthed, and since it had been typically hosted by a band at their byrgi, of course Raye and all the band had eagerly joined Kalfr in planning to host one again, the first in apparently over a hundred years.
“Ach, ach,” Gaelfr grumbled, but Raye could scent that he wasn’t really disgruntled, and he nudged her toward the door, his hand slapping lightly at her arse. “But if you feel even a little weary in this, you will come to me. At once.”
It was an order Raye might have once tried arguing, but now she only smiled fondly at him, and leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Of course I will, Gael,” she murmured. “Thank you.”
He looked distinctly mollified, a smile curving at his mouth — at least, until they stepped outside the room, and found a wet-eyed Svein dashing out from below, and racing across the room toward them. “Mama!” he wailed, hurling both arms around her waist. “Papa Kalfr is being mean to me!”
Raye blinked, but drew Svein tight and close, while casting a searching glance toward where Kalfr had come up behind him, scenting of chagrin, and wearing a pained smile on his mouth.
A sight that was becoming more familiar these days, and Raye drew back to look at Svein, to wipe the tears from his flushed cheeks.
“Deep breaths, love,” she told him. “Whatever it is, I’m sure we can —”
“He wouldn’t let me come upstairs!” Svein cut in, with another wail, and a furious wave of his hand toward Kalfr. “He made me wait down there, instead of coming up to see you and Papa Gael!”
Ah. Raye shot a half-wincing, half-grateful glance toward Kalfr, and again drew Svein close, stroking at his shuddering back.
These furious outbursts from him were new, and though he mostly directed them toward Kalfr, he sometimes hurled them at Raye or Gaelfr, too.
Accusing them of making him go to bed too early, or not letting him have sweets for breakfast, or keeping him from going to visit his friends, or just generally being mean, terrible parents.
Raye had been shocked by this development at first — what had happened to her sweet, eager-to-please son?
But now, she understood that it went much deeper than whatever injustice Svein was upset about.
He’d lived through so many changes these past months — new parents, a new home, new kin, new pets, new siblings on the way — and he still suffered from nightmares about the day he’d run away, his terror of being so alone.
And beyond that, it had taken Raye far too long to understand that even up until recently, Svein had still been trying so hard to be good, to be on his best behaviour for her and Kalfr and Gaelfr, and show himself the perfect son.
To do everything within his power to make sure Kalfr and Gaelfr wouldn’t leave him again, or replace him.
It had broken Raye’s heart to realize how many scars her sweet son already carried, and it hadn’t been easy to see him lashing out like this, striking at them wherever he could.
One awful day a few weeks before, he’d even screamed at Kalfr that he wished he’d never come back — and though Raye had flinched at the pain in Kalfr’s scent, he hadn’t shown even a hint of anger.
Instead, he’d gone and sat outside Svein’s closed bedroom door for the rest of the afternoon, until a sniffling Svein had finally crept out again, and hurled himself into Kalfr’s arms.
“Ach, he is only testing us,” Kalfr had told them later that night, with a wry, wan smile. “It is good, that he feels safe enough to do this. And that he is speaking his fears to us, rather than running off again.”
Raye could fully agree with that point, and together, they’d made a concerted, consistent effort to make themselves a safe, reliable place for Svein. To make sure he understood both their boundaries and their love, and to show him he could always, always trust them.
“You’re all right, love,” Raye told Svein now, still squeezing him tight, kissing his hair. “Papa Kalfr was just making sure you were safe. And Papa Gael and I just needed a few minutes to settle ourselves, so Papa Kalfr was giving us that, too.”
Svein made a face as he yanked back out of Raye’s grip, shaking his head. “You’re only saying that,” he replied, “because you love Papa Gael more than you love Papa Kalfr!”