More Than A Flurry [Sam'ael]

[Issima]

Winter 48, 511 AV The trip had been arduous. Though it certainly lacked the dramatics of the Fall, they traveled far and under sometimes difficult circumstances. Issima, carrying a secret inside of her, had to push beyond limitless fatigue and the weariness that came with creating new life to keep up. She was thankful, though, that apart from mild queasiness she never struggled with the sickness that had plagued her cousins. The fact that she retired early was easily attributed to the sheer effort required by their trip, and there was really nothing at all to indicate to anyone else that something was different about her. Even the slight expansion of her otherwise flat stomach was easy enough to hide, beneath the layers of clothing required to ward off the chill. Even Sam had relatively few opportunities to as much as notice, given the lack of relative privacy to any intimacy they managed with such a gathering always around them. It wasn't a difficult secret to keep, for now. And Issima might have held onto it a while longer, had not the restless boredom of the cave driven her out into the cold, blowing snow. She couldn't stay long, she knew, but the fresh air was incredible. For days she'd shared the very breath of far too many people in the small cave, their party having grown as they went along. The warm smell of sweat and man was preferable to an icy death, of course, but Issima wasn't certain she could manage inside for most of the day and sleep there, too. So it was that she sought out Syna's light, more of a dull illumination behind a bank of snowclouds than a fixed point in the sky. Sama'el was doing a wonderful job, she thought with some fond bias, at keeping them all going, but it had to be exhausting. She could feel the weariness in the tightness of his shoulders and back when he settled in to share her warmth at night. She could read it sometimes, in the lines of his face, staring out to the horizon they approached. If keeping this from him had been of a selfish motive at first (she didn't want him trying to send her back to Endrykas for safe keeping) then it had since shifted to something else. She didn't want to add more to his plate, something else to stress over. But she couldn't keep it to herself forever, right? Dusting the snow off of a long, flat rock near the mouth of the cave, Issima settled and brought her knees up towards her chest. Nestling further into the layers of warmth, she idly splayed one hand against her belly beneath the folds, and mulled over the conundrum as her eyes feasted on the fascinating and relentless snowfall all around. Beautiful.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Since they had arrived, Sama'el had worked to make this cave a home for his little pavilion. He had killed a hibernating bear to claim it for them even as the ice storm howled outside, he had kept a stretch of space outside the cave entrance clear of snow with this Fire that they might have some space outside for whatever needed doing, and he had gone hunting to supply them with fresh meat as well as new furs to keep them warm, the which he was curing to the best of his ability with meager supplies. But he liked waking up in a tangle of arms with Issima, making a game of being as silent as possible as they made love in the darkness, trying not to wake everyone up. That was often difficult. Just now he was standing outside the cave entrance, carefully cuddling his young kestrel, Hodei. She was the chick of Raiha's Kefi and Oanu, and his first. Training her was proving a long process, but thankfully they seemed to have an understanding. Even when he became a more accomplished falconer, he was sure the birds would assume their own superiority. For his warmth, she huddled close, allowing a show of affection, but while they had a working relationship, she was not at all submissive. She just knew that she would be fed more regularly if she cooperated with him. "Fly now," he said quietly to her, gloved arm giving her a push up into the sky, her wings doing the rest. She was a smaller bird, but Raiha had assured him that kestrels were good birds to learn first. Her prey mostly fed herself, but at this point, anyone pulling their own weight was perfectly welcome. And if she had a little extra, well, it didn't hurt to add it to their communal pot. He watched her go, hand shielding his eyes from the worst of the glare. Still, they were slit against the brightness as he turned to smile at Issima. "Hello, wife." He took an inordinate amount of pleasure in calling her that, but it also recalled those quiet, shared moments of intensity in the night when he was still inside of her and he whispered that honorific into her ear. A stylized solar disc was etched around his eye now with one ray emanating from it, a gift from Syna that had lay dormant until their wedding, appearing as a sort of blessing, he supposed, just as Cheva's mark appeared to seal their compact, their covenant. "You look more beautiful everyday..." He almost asked if she wanted to wander off and find a place to be loud, but he let his wicked smile do that for him.

[Issima]

"When will you learn, husband, that flattery will get you nowhere?" Issima returned his smile, and they both knew the truth of it was that his flattery usually earned him anything he ever sought. After they had married in a hurry in Riverfall, Issima had been free to recognize the feelings he had stirred in her from the very start as what they truly were. Sam was incredible, and she couldn't look at his boyish smile without feeling heat rush through her. His sweet words were like honey, and she could deny him little. The idea of romping about in this snowstorm, however, was a bit much. She'd freeze before they'd exhausted one another, after all. She lifted a hand to reach for him, drawing him down behind her so that she could feel the circle of his arms around her. It made her feel safe, protected. These moments were nice, having Sam to herself. "Is Hodei still growing? She looks bigger." The bird looked regal against the fall of snow, and Issima reclined into the warmth behind her.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

"I think she is," he said, letting her pull his arms around her. He liked how she felt there. "And I was worried about letting her hunt on her own, but she seems to be taking to training well, so I'm not messing that up too much, and binding her into my Web, well, I think she recognizes it on some animal level, so she always comes back." He took a deep inhale, and then slowly blew out a trail of smoldering res, which coiled around them at a safe distance before igniting. Between his arms, their heavy clothes, and the filaments of fire, the worst of winter's bite left them alone. How little faith she had in him, though, that he could not keep them warm in the snow. His eyes tracked up for a moment to find the raptor in the sky, then down into the curls and the flashes of her neck. He liked the way she smelled just there, that distinctive but indescribable Issima smell. "We should be able to move again in a few days if we don't get more snow dumped on us," he mused. "In Syliras, married couples get their moon of honey to spend alone. Not so us, but we have a bit more time together out here than we would back in Endrykas. Perhaps in the next blizzard we can find a series of caves and have one just for us..." At some point, he had begun to rock her body gently from side to side.

[Issima]

The rocking should have been soothing, as his general presence was, but it made Issima feel the tiniest bit queasy instead. She'd fared remarkably well in that regard, but sometimes motion made her ill in a way now that it never had before. So it was that she was trying to think of a suitable distraction to stop him when she felt it. Like bubbles in her belly, at first. It was such a surprise that she gasped aloud and stopped their swaying motion so that she could focus. She wasn't thinking of keeping her secret in that moment, only of feeling that magical flutter again. And she did. Her hand delved beneath the outermost layers of her clothing to press to the barely there swell of her abdomen. Again she felt it, though the pressure of it against her palm was incomparable to the sensation of the life beating inside of her. Sam's voice brought her back to present and she realized, with a sudden twist of nervousness, that she couldn't keep her secret any longer. To cover this up she would have to lie to his face, and this was her husband. She couldn't stoop so low. So it was that the tears in her eyes were spawned both by anxiousness (should she have told him sooner? Would he be upset?) and by wonder as she turned in the circle of his arms to face him. "Sam," she said, in that tone that was somber and serious. "Husband," she began again, reaching to curl her fingers in his own. She pulled his hand to her so that she could kiss his knuckles and then she directed it lower, until it was splayed across her stomach. That she was scarcely showing might be more evident now, with such direct contact, but the primary difference in her physical form was the firmness of the stomach he now touched. Less like the soft abdomen of a young bride and more like the taut pull of a ripe melon. It was hardly huge, and easy to miss beneath her clothing. But now, as his palm splayed against her fragile center, Issima opened her mouth to tell him. The child inside of her, it seemed, wanted to speak for itself. As if responding to it's fathers touch, the strongest kick Issima had felt yet was released squarely against Sam's palm, in a thump he'd have to notice.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

"What's wrong?" he asked when she stiffened in his arms, but it was as if she didn't hear him quite. But she did turn around, her face a beautiful mystery of feeling. Her words, his name and his title, would seem to presage some dire news, but then she pulled his hand down and he wondered if she wanted him to pleasure her with his hand again, only this time out here on their front porch. He began to flush with excitement and pleasure, perhaps the happiest newlywed husband around -- certainly within the relatively unpopulated area. But then he felt that kick and his mouth opened into a surprised O, no sound coming out as his brain figured that out, and shock ran through him. He should not have been surprised. Since being given access to her body, he had taken his spousal rights and obligations quite seriously. Tears suddenly stung those dark eyes as they peered into hers to verify this new truth: they were to be parents together. "I, ah..." It came out choked, wet with emotion. Hodei screamed above them, but it was merely the call of the wild, the glory of freedom. He felt like he was flying too, and he crash landed into his wife, his hand inextricably bound to that point of contact at her belly, but his body coming flush to hers, his arm going around her. So it wasn't just her desire to travel beyond Cyphrus that made her marry him. They were building a family. "I love you," he said, voice hushed at the everyday holiness between them.

[Issima]

It had been a fearful anxiety that had framed that moment for Issima, the gnawing doubt that she should have told him sooner and he might resent her this secret. As it were, her worries seemed unfounded. Either Sama'el didn't realize a secret had been kept at all, or he didn't care. It was warm pleasure that reflected back at her in those moist, emotional eyes and Issima felt herself crumple beneath the weight of the burden she'd given herself all those weeks ago, now that she was free of it. "Oh, Sam," she breathed, throwing her arms around his neck and burrowing close to his young, strong chest. She sniffled, too, though her reasoning was a bit different from his own. She was relieved and, now that it was no longer a thing to be hidden, pleased. Because she could feel life, life that she and Sam had created, moving inside her. Was there anything more magical? "I know the timing is terrible," she sniffed against the warm familiarity of his neck.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Later he might manage the mathematics, or perhaps not. For all his occasional wisdom, the equine female made more sense to him than those of his own species. He respected those depths he might never plumb, but did not spend too much time trying to decipher that which might be better off a mystery. The spark of new life pulsed between them, and he felt an unaccountable arousal despite the fact that any lovemaking made now would be redundant in one sense, but purely love and affection too. Perhaps he was eager to repeat things even now before they were complete. If there was a magic greater than the Web and calling Fire, it was this one: bodies crafting a new body, spirits singing down a new spirit from the Ukalas. It could be a boy, or it could be a girl, and so many things could still go wrong, and suddenly he felt the swelter of need to protect and succor her, the animal instinct as well as the loving. He would have to be careful not to smother her. "I do, I do," he said, laughing, then taking her face in his hands to kiss her. Cold cheeks, warm hands. Lips chapped by cold and each other's lips. If she had waited to tell him, well, so be it. Not every quickening lasted those first few weeks or months, and it was bad luck to announce it too soon for fear of jinxing things. "I'll have to be careful not to kill any more bears or Oriana may not bless this child." He smiled, hoping they didn't encounter any more bears anyway.

[Issima]

Issima laughed into his kiss, warmed by the joy that radiated from him now. She wanted to remember this moment, to savor it for when all the difficult ones that would inevitably come made life seem difficult and wearisome. Sama'el was so abjectly happy and though it certainly hadn't been intentional and she hadn't managed it all on her own, it had been her news that had given him that smile. And, of all the important people in his life who were able to contribute many different things to his happiness, this privilege was hers alone. For now, anyway. And things were so tender and brand new between them, so much in the flush of youth and vigor, that Issima felt like a string of wives wasn't something in their imminent future. After all, they were holed up in a cave, struggling wanderers far from home. It hardly seemed the place to take on such enormous responsibility. And did it matter at all? Not at present. Not now, because Sam loved her, and wasn't that just what she'd always wanted? A marriage of emotion and spirit, not one chosen for her by a surly uncle. A partner she loved waking up to, a man she desired as much as she adored. Yes, Issima was happy too. And between them? New life. "The worst of it has already passed," she said, her fingers curling about his as her pretty face, earnest with emotion, lifted to his. "Now you'll just have to tolerate as I grow as big as a whale," she laughed. "And maybe... maybe we'll make it to Cyphrus again before he's born."

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

"Hopefully," he agreed, and laughed again. He just couldn't help himself, and he was naturally ebullient anyway. A Drykas might spend his days wandering, but he should be born and, hopefully, die on the Sea of Grass. "But if not, Denen knows how to deliver a baby, and if he's not around, I've delivered foals... I'm sure it can't be all that different." He might have been joking there. But either way, he held her close, arm about her shoulders, hand upon her belly, and his eyes shot skyward to find Hodei. He too felt like he was flying, though of course he was nervous about the responsibility. All the same, he knew that they could do this right. But then he blinked, cut his eyes to her curiously. "Does Denen know? Did he help with the morning sickness?"