The days were moving quickly, the temperatures were rising to degrees that the Rike woman wasn't used to at all. There was no snow in sight anywhere, only the peaks of the valley kept their white hats, but that would most likely be gone soon too. She was growing impatient with their commands, with those chains that restrain her. How long will they wait as the Sigrun cut through the little numbers they had? Those were just a few of the reasons she was unhappy with their situation, but there was something else.

Her last night with Alaric was more than passionate, as per usual. She kept revisiting that moment they shared, but not because to reminisce like a newlywed maiden. No, there was a looming doubt circling her thoughts. It had appeared since the last few days when her stomach was unusually uneasy, and her emotions were everchanging like the weather. But the fears were confirmed this morning when Erna had awoken with the irrevocable need to hurl all the contents of her stomach on the stone floor.

She was carrying @Alaric's brood.

The thought frustrated her. There couldn't be a worse time to be bursting at the seams with his bairns. She wasn't anticipating the upcoming days. Erna needed her mobility and agility not only to fight but to successfully spy on the valley's rats. Instead, she will be heavy and slow. She will need to be careful, lest she lost the litter and her kin along with Alaric shunned her to no ends for her bad reproductivity potential, perhaps even punished her.

There was no sign yet of her condition. Her sides hadn't yet begun to expand. She walked up the stream that fed off the waterfall, taking a sip of the fresh water in an attempt to wash away the horrible taste left by her morning sickness.

With his wounds healed he felt the familiar itch. The urge to reach new heights, to fell a king and steal a crown. Amaryllis was full of able-bodied fighters and he was older, now, but Alaric could not ignore the fact that it felt like his destiny. After all he had cost the Rike -- all that he had cost her -- he needed to prove himself. He comes again to find her, always seeking her out. @Erna is not easy to track, she does well to keep her scent masked, and he often grows frustrated. There is little more he would like more than to whisk her back to the oasis and tuck her close, keep her near for him to call on whenever the mood strikes. This constant game of hide-and-seek was... irritating. When he finally does spot her he pauses mid-stride, taking a brief moment to study her from a distance. Alaric feels an all too familiar clench of desire sweep down his body, but there was something more to it. Something he would not acknowledge as he steps forward, a soft chuff to warn her of his presence before he sought to press against her side with a rumbling growl of greeting. "Tell me," he murmured quietly as he aimed to nip at the side of her neck, "what you are thinking." A demand, of sorts, though he finds himself genuinely interested in her answer.

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Water trickles down her marked chin as her ears swivel atop her skull at the sound of a familiar voice. It was a coincidence that he had appeared while Erna was thinking of him. Speak of the devil, and here he was. She turned to watch him as he approached, standing to her full height, his warm flank pressing against her. Against them.

She is silent to his inquiry, at first, her blank expression gazing back into the rushing water. The sun shined in her squinting gaze and then she said: "I am carrying your whelps," she announced nonchalantly, with little weight or emotion behind her words. She sought after his reaction, wondering what he would think or say.

there is a shift in her that he does not understand. she seems subdued, distant, and his brow knits with a frown at the fleeting thought that she was going to try to leave him. (As if he would let her.) when she speaks, though, his lips curl in a grin. Alaric does not care if she is unhappy — he does not care if the timing is bad. he is a simple beast and children mean legacy, and his chest swells with pride at the thought of making one with her. “Good,” he finally tumbled as he levelled his gaze on her, “they will make us proud.” there was no other choice. They would be great or they would die, it was a harsh fact of life.

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There is little hesitation in the man's voice (the father of her future children, swimming in her belly right now), when he declares that the news is good. Her violet eyes continue to observe him, ears swiveling at his following words. She sits down on her haunches, glancing at the distance beyond the beauty of the crashing waterfall and the stream that fed off it. "They must," her voice is cold, steady - intense. The whelps will need to be strong, ready for the battle that is life. If Erna sniffs even an ounce of weakness in one of them, they won't live long. Such is the life of a Rike. It was best for the disappointments to die by her tooth and claw than bring shame to the family line and to Erna. They can't be anything but perfect.

“They will.” there is no worry in his voice, not a hint of concern. Children born of Rike and Starke would be no mewling babes. He anticipated tooth and claw from an early age, and would not shy from using a heavy paw if they did not rise to the challenge. Suddenly and unexpectedly he wondered about her. “tell me, my mate,” the title given with emphasis, daring her to argue that she was anything but, “are you… content?” happy seemed a stretch, he could not claim he knew the emotion well, but what was more surprising was that he cared enough about her to ask.

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They will - Alaric is certain. Of course, he is. She knew the pride of men laid in their legacy, in their seed. And Alaric was a prideful man, with a high opinion of himself and crazy confidence. Erna would never admit it, but his confidence was infectious. She felt certain of a brighter future when she stood by his side, as his Queen. As the mother of a strong brood and a Rike woman respected by her relatives. She felt on top of the world with him, like everything was possible. Success, glory, the defeat of their longstanding enemies - as if they could both breeze through it together.


Tell me, he asks and she is surprised by this inquiry, although the surprise doesn't show up on her face. The bear-like woman scrutinized his face, looking for weak spots, but daring not to make that evident. She knew better than to disrespect his authority. Was she content? "Why does that matter?" She asked with a leonine quirk of her brow. Her emotional well-being was never a priority. She wasn't in physical pain, and if she was, then that was nothing to fret over. She had been in much worse situations before. Hell, Erna almost had her leg ripped off her. Surely she can handle pregnancy.

His brow furrowed in response to her question, and a lip curled in frustration. "it doesn't," he snarked back, knowing damn well it did, "but if you are not well then they will be the ones to suffer." it was a good save -- it might even have been convincing were it not for the fact that he was clearly bothered. why DID it matter? he shifted forward a step, needing to move to chase away this pressing question, circling her once with an eye on her belly. it had yet to grow and swell with cubs and he found himself eager for that time, when she would be so obviously taken. his. "so tell me," he repeated with a bit of an edge to his voice, "are you content?" he would not see her stressed, now, when there were other lives dependent on her. @Erna

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Her gruff lover, no, the gruff future father of her children was quick to amend his words, clarifying that it was just worry for his whelps that nestled within her. Whatever sting she felt at this was neatly tucked in the depths of her mind, her expression unflinching. She knew better than to dabble in emotions that wouldn't serve her. After all, Rike women didn't have the privilege to think themselves more important than their litters and their men. Any such thought was foolish and will bring only pain about.

The pale man stood now, circling her like a merchant would circle its merchandise. Scrutinizing, looking at her sides. She felt a disgust bubble within her, but she quickly pushed it away. Are you content? That damned question again! @Alaric continued to press on and on. How could she tell him, while carrying his brood, that she would rather fight and tear on the battlefield than tumble around like a fat hippo bursting at the seams? She couldn't. Erna knew her place - she will sit down and shut up. It was every woman's duty to carry those leeches during her lifetime. And she was, unfortunately, born a woman. Perhaps she would've been less resistant to the idea if they had a pride. "Very." She lied, lowering down for another sip.

in the span of a few moments his expression darkened, lips peeling back in a snarl. "liar," he hissed, his claws flexing and grasping at the ground beneath them. they wanted to sink in to her pretty flesh and make her bleed for it, the anger a fiery current that coursed along his tense figure. "don't fucking lie to me," his voice dropped, dangerous and dark and all things deadly. he circled her again and placed a harsh nip upon her rump, goading her, seeing if he might make her rise to the challenge. would she dare? turn on him, fight him then and there, while their children nestled inside of her? alaric would not hesitate to make her bleed, not even now. "i know how much you crave blood," he rumbled with a growl, lifting one paw as he circled around the other side of her and seeking to drag it across her side, over her belly which had yet to swell. "shall i make you bleed, meine liebe?" @Erna

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