Page 62 of Boundless
"Thatdear boy?" Gayeh scoffed. "Please. Your father was far less present and supportive in the beginning, and he wound up being wonderful. I can only imagine how good your husband will be." Her mother's expression sobered, her shoulders stiffening. "Any more word from the elf king?"
Daega sighed, letting her eyes slide closed as a headache threatened. "Oh aye, he's got quite a lot of words. Accusing us of sedition and treason, accusing Len of rebellion, blaming me for turning his son against him like he hasn't been a massive pile of shite to the lad his whole life." Daega opened her eyes and met her mother's hard glare. "Would you like to read the letters? Len's already said he doesn't mind you and Da seeing them, too."
Her mother shook her head, clapping a hand to one cheek. "No thank you, dearest. Perhaps in a bit, but for now your word is plenty. Have you two decided what you want to do about Haedelon, then?"
"Wouldn't you and the other elders be the ones to decide?"
"If you truly wish us to. But it'syourfuture on the line,yourworld that these battles will shape. You get first pick."
Daega's nose wrinkled. "Ugh, why did I think diplomacy would be so preferable to warcraft, again? Making choices is sohard, Mum."
Gayeh chuckled wryly, nodding. “Aye. But at the end of it your chances of still standing are much better."
"Ihavethought..." Daega began, her eyes darting to her doorflap, her heart fluttering with nerves for a moment. "I've thought it might be better to sit tight, let Haedelon make the moves. Let the people see we mean for the peace to stick by staying out of things until he forces our hand."
Gayeh beamed, reaching out to cup her face. "See? You're a fine diplomat, my dove."
Daega's nose wrinkled. "Really, it's that easy? I can just—just decide to do nothing?"
"Sometimes the situation calls for it." Her mother rose, pouring them each a glass of water and dropping a dried slice of citrus fruit in, handing one to her daughter before retaking her seat. "Trust me, it's not actually the easier decision just because it has fewer moving pieces. Especially with a great impatient thing like you, nugget."
Daega scoffed at her mother's wry tone, but she was able to admit that stillness wasn't her strong suit. "I've waited two months for this baby to splat out of me," she countered, hiding a grin behind her glass because Len wasn't here to inform Gayeh that she spent at least a half hour every night listing all the things she hated about being pregnant that she couldn't wait to be done with. "Almost three!"
Gayeh snorted. "You didn't evenknowthe first month!" She sipped her drink, chuckling. "I'm sure you're complaining that poor sweet boy's ear off every night."
Daega's face flamed, but she refused to admit anything.
"Areyou excited, lass?" Her mother asked more gently, reaching across the empty space between them to take her eldest's hand. "Motherhood is equal parts wonder and horror, and you weren't expecting it so soon, if ever, with Len."
Her instinct was to evade and reassure, but after her strange dream, and with just her mother's cool balm of a presence around her, she found herself being more honest. "I'm a fair bit nervous. And I think there are parts I'll struggle with, and you know how I hate to be bad at something." Her mother gave her a soft smile. "And I think if it would have been anyone but Len I might have terminated so early on in the marriage. But with him, everything's been fast but no less perfect. I think he'll be a good temper for me and do well where I'll stumble." She drained the last of her flavored water and sighed, smiling faintly even as her heart ached for want of her little husband. "I think I'm more excited for the parts that happen when my child will be older, when they can talk to me and get into scrapes. But Len's so patient and tender, and I think he'll rather like having a babby to take care of."
"That's lovely. I'm glad to hear it. A part of me did fear you'd kept the child out of a sense of duty, but no obligation is strong enough to bring a child into a home it's not wanted." Gayeh stood, taking her empty glass and helping Daega stand. "What do you plan on getting up to while your husband dreams and swims through time with your father?"
Daega shrugged. "Not sure, to be honest. I'm so tired and sore these days, I don't feel like getting up to much."
Gayeh clucked sympathetically, rubbing her daughter's back. "Aye, these last days are hard on the body. I'm heading to the quartermaster's tent next, to see about what she might need for our winter migration further into the valley."
Daega stretched, wincing at the way her spine twinged and cracked. She dug her fingers into a muscle at the small of her back that was especially tight, then decided she might as well tag along.
"I think a bit of walking might be alright," she allowed. "I'll just get dressed, then."
AFTER A FEWShours of walking around the camps, Daega's back felt like it was nothing but knots, but she had to admit that her mood was better, and that the time under the late summer sun had rejuvenated something in her. It was sunset now, and she expected Len to be done, but he wasn't in their tent when she popped her head in to check. She twisted her lips, considering, then decided she'd try the quiet tent set away from the main horde that the ceremony was usually held in.
The sun had begun to disappear below the horizon by the time she made it to the ceremonial tent, a single blue-tinged lantern lit to let passersby know someone was in there, and she opened the doorflap quietly, peeking in.
She spotted her father talking in a low voice with his brother, her uncle Ravost, Len laid out on his side on a pallet on the floor. Her husband looked to be asleep, but she noted her father was rubbing a slow, soothing circle into Len's back between his shoulders, something he'd always done for Daega when she wasn't feeling well. Aside from the three men the tent was empty, so she slipped inside.
"Is it done, then?" she asked in Draka, kicking a low stool over to where Len rested. "How did he do?"
Kevothaen beamed at her, rising to kiss her cheek and hug her tight. "Hello, nugget," he said. "He did well, but it took a lot out of him. I didn't want to interrupt his rest to move him."
She nodded, settling onto the stool with a groan and carding her fingers through his silky golden curls. "Good on you, Da." She smiled down at him, wishing she didn't have a swollen melon of a stomach right now and could cuddle him against her. "Thank you again for being his guide. Both of you." The older men smiled, the only thing about their features that looked the same and revealed their relation.
"It was a pleasure, lass," Ravost said softly, his fingers weaving several dyed threads together into a lovely length of woven band. "Your husband is a gentle little thing. You can't help but want to take care of him."
Kevothaen nodded, his hand taking up its steady, soothing circles on Len's back once more. "Aye, that he is. I don't know if I've seen someone cry as much during the ceremony as he did. Aside from myself, that is," he grinned, patting her leg. "My eyes were almost swollen shut the day after I had your drinking." She laughed, knowing full well how easily her father got wound up. Now that she was looking, she could see the evidence of tears on Len's serene face, but he lacked the pinched look she saw when they were upset tears.
"I know I'm not supposed to ask, but something tells me he saw good things," she commented. "He feels so deep and wide, and it moves him, but he doesn't look upset."
