Prism

[DotCom]

Lyra felt Rask's gentle urgings to relax and despite herself was powerless -- mostly powerless -- against them. Even the thought of fighting him now made her feel almost physically ill. Not so close to having lost him again. And he was right. She was tired. It radiated through her every muscle, still under recovery from a week spent in feverish delirium. She and Rask had both woken only that morning, and while her burns were nearly healed, they still ached and itched under her shirt.

But stronger than the fatigue was the weariness in her mind. She might have likened it to spending all day with ones muscles tense and rigid, the quivering sort of ache that came from a muscle about to give out, yet too tight to relax. Scarlet curled easily, gently around the gold, having long since learned all lessons against forcing anything. And the gold did calm the ire within the further reaches of the scarlet, at least enough so that gold could enjoy this new peaceful haven where they weren't being stretched and torn and pulled apart. Rask was happy. Lyra loved that.

But she was tired. They all were. She could feel the events of the day weighing heavy on Rask, still see flickers of pain in Asesee's eyes. Lyra was exhausted in a different way, too wound up to imagine sleeping. Perhaps she could look for a way to get them back to the city? There were no promises it would be safer there, but she might find some helping in watch Rask -- not that she would leave his safety to anyone but herself.

But Asesee would need help, too, and Lyra wasn't sure she trusted the female Aavan to fly all the way back to the city. Nor did she want Rask in the air, not when she could feel his fatigue so keenly. She wanted to be up and moving, making calls, securing transport vehicles for the three of them, or at the very least, finding a suitable source of warmth for the Aavan. They needed to be warm, she thought she could remember Siya telling her that once.

And then Rask was burying his face in her neck again, and for just an instant, she tensed, looking for danger, but no. He spoke gently to her, first in actions, then words, and for a moment, Lyra was tempted to believe him. Her eyes drifted shut of their own accord, the tension slowly drained from her back and shoulders. She took a breath, reveling in the feel of his broad chest against her back, of his mind, peaceful and content within hers.

Even his voice, his words, were intoxicating. The nickname, the smirk, she recognized Ras'K in them, and to her surprise went slightly pink, the very beginnings of smile touching her lips as she began to relax into his grip, trusting maybe he would still be stable when she woke...

His arms tightened around her waist with a touch, and instantly, she awoke, sitting up straight, pulling away from Rask just slightly -- she could not bring herself to do more than that -- ears and eyes straining through the dark for sounds of danger. Her mind soon enough found faint inklings of that memory, of Rask dying on the battlefield, writhing on the ground beneath her, screaming, begging that she leave him.

She shut her eyes for a moment, let the memory pass over her like cold water over a shrinking stone at the bottom of a stream. And then she comforted.

She did it almost automatically now, wondering vaguely if it was natural that it should be the first part of the Bond she really understood, grasped. She smoothed her hands over his and turned to kiss him chastely, trying to forget the fact that Asesee sat not a few feet away. Rask made that easier. He made everything easier. Lyra was finding her own form of solace in comforting him.

She turned forward again when she felt him settle, though she kept those scarlet strands close, warm, circling with a gently protective instinct, even as she listened to Rask explain his story -- part of his story -- with Asesee, the rumble of his voice vibrating up her spine.

Most of it was only strange, not surprising. Ras'K shared his thoughts and memories with Rask now, and she could see and understand most of them -- though she avoided even the recollection of his time with his 'Trainers'. That much had gotten through from Rask's gentle warnings, and he was right. It wasn't the time.

The rest, though, she puzzled through idly. His mission, the miscalculation in him being sent back. She wondered if he'd been sent at the right time, instead of growing up with Asesee and Mori and Tac and their family...would she have ever had a chance with Ras'K? The thought of doing anything without him...she exhaled shook her head, turned her mind back to Rask just in time to hear about Mori and Rora's twins.

This much was a surprise, and she tilted her head to look up at him questioningly.

A future threatened? Something cataclysmic happening around the twins, something big enough to change the lives -- maybe end the lives -- of two species? Something, then, beyond the Ashkerai. Something after the children. But who? Or what? And...

"Do Mori and Rora know?" Lyra asked, more cautious than concerned. She could not imagine either of the pair letting anything happen to their children...but if they were out of the way...

"Are they in danger?"

 

[Kaisaan]

Rask closed his eyes, shaking his head in a negative answer, but he swallowed hard after that and finally looked down at his mate, the gold threads of his mind jerking, agitated with the thoughts that swam through his head even as he spoke. "They are the danger. They just don't know it yet." He could feel Asesee frowning, wanting to question, but she remained silent and the male gold continued.

"In my future, they couldn't prevent the death of the twins. Tai'risNya was taken first and then not three days later, Kohe'Erana as well. Both suffered tremendously, horrific deaths and it drove Moridryn and Rora mad. As the Maiden, Rora brought great destruction upon her own people and Moridryn, the power Kaloranis left him with turned him into a Morngetyi."

Dark Vengeance. A reaper of the most terrible kind, having no mercy, no conscience, killing out of grief and the need for justice.

The meaning whispered through his mind like a breath of ice and Rask shivered, holding Lyra a little closer as the memories as he'd been shown during his own time spun through his thoughts; images of destruction and the shattering of peace, the fall of the cities that had been built by both races, the remaining Ashkerai once more growing strong in the hate that spread over the planet like a toxic blanket.

"Not even hate could keep them going forever, though, and in the end they succumbed to their own grief, but the damage was done. From this point to the Great Destruction is fifty-two years. And from that point to the time I am from is one thousand, one hundred years exactly. In all that time, the Cerebrae and the Aavan have never known peace again." Rask stopped there, breathing carefully as he slowly tried to push the memories back. They weren't his, not entirely, but they DID come from those who had come before him. Part of his training had been to absorb those memories, to know them and study them, figure out what they could tell him. But in truth they were just another brand of horror he had locked up inside his mind.

"So..." Asesee spoke softly into the silence, trying to work through this. It sounded too fantastic and horrible to be real, but she'd seen more than enough to know that even the surreal things could be true and she believed Rask, brother or no. "So you're here to make sure they don't die, that the twins remain alive." At Rask's jerky nod, she nodded back, but then shook her head slowly, expression puzzled, curious.

"How do you know that will change the future? What if the twins being alive is not the key to peace at all?"

"Then we're screwed either way." Rask admitted with a wry smile touching his mouth, green eyes holding a pained expression. "There is no guarantee that the twins will hold everything together, but...in the future where they die...I don't want anyone to have to live there. This is a chance to change it and pray that change is for the better."

"And that responsibility, for the whole future, has been placed on you." It wasn't a question and Asesee looked from Rask who did not answer, to Lyra and it was the Keeper she kept her orange eyes on, finally nodding a little, voice soft.

"I'm glad he has you."

 

[DotCom]

Lyra knew something was wrong at the thought that slithered through her mind when Rask spoke.

Shuddering, she buried it away quickly, before her Bonded could see, because she didn't want to risk upsetting him anymore. It wasn't difficult to do. Even her rational mind understood such a thing couldn't occur without serious ramifications for the future. It had been a knee-jerk impulse, born, she was sure, more of fatigue and frustration and hurt than actual logic. Being with Rask had changed her mind. She understood that. She knew it well. And she loved him for it, and in spite of it.

And yet...and yet it was not so easy to remove the memory that had cut through Rask's mind. She felt him shiver and turned absently to place a kiss to his neck, letting her lips linger, feeling his lifeblood pumping hard beneath golden skin. And then she eased back again, her head on his shoulder, twisted in his lap so she could watch him. She did feel better that way.

And it was so good to see him here, even afraid, appalled, those images of his future still flitting through his mind as he tried to push them back. Shutting her eyes, she eased more deeply into his mind to help, scarlet rooting gold back to the present, to the truth that existed now. Rora and Mori's children had not been born yet, and when they were, they would be kept safe. Rask had been sent back. Lyra was here now. And she had no intention of returning Rask to the future from whence he'd come. Nothing else mattered now. If that meant making herself personal body guard to two infant hybrids, then so be it.

She had never given much thought to the future, neither with nor without the twins, or peace, or a continued alliance with the Aavan, though now she could see it no other way. Life for Lyra had always been orders, direction, duty. But with Rask, things were different. If there was a falling out in the future, she would follow him home, and the betrayal of her people would mean nothing. Almost nothing. She had seen Rask in pain, she had seen him so very close to death. She had lived thinking him passed on without her. She knew she could not do it again.

It was those memories that had fueled that dark, oily thought that had burned through her mind like fire, singing everything in sight even as its heat and brilliance drew the scarlet forward with a sick sort of curiosity. She never even gave words to the thought, knowing she would not follow through...unless she thought Rask had no other chance. And then she would do it without hesitation, and she would learn to live with the remorse.

She was determined Rask should not live through that hellscape again.

Not even if it meant killing Rora and Mori herself.

 

[Kaisaan]

-----

The storm seemed to come out of nowhere and Mori was woken to Siya, Yenna and Tac coming into the room, worried that something was wrong, but the black Aavan had assured them that he was not the cause of this weather change. No, the storm was a natural occurrence, even if it had come upon the plains swifter than was normal. Yenna and Tac had accepted such information, leaving to help secure the more unreliable buildings housing the wounded and supplies.

Siya...went wherever Siya went when things like this happened and right now Mori was too distracted to think about where that was exactly. No, his attention was on the storm and with Rora still sleeping, he approached the window, opening it quietly. The first wet, cold breeze blew in as if it had been merely waiting to be invited and Mori inhaled deeply, his violet eyes swimming a dark blue for just a moment as a smile came over his face, understanding igniting as he turned to look at Rora.

When the first contraction came, he almost knew it before she did and the black Aavan moved to her side when she started to wake, shushing his mate softly, reassuring Rora that everything was all right. He didn't need to tell her what was happening, though. She already knew just as he did, but when the first contraction passed and she was able to relax a little again, the black Aavan drew her attention to the dark, roiling clouds outside, brushing her dark hair back affectionately when she turned back to him.

"The storm is here to welcome our children, our two little Stormborn."

Mori whispered it to her before kissing Rora's lips softly, the blue of his mind curling protectively, reassuringly, lovingly around the violet, filling in the spaces around her with his entire presence. He would keep her safe. Nothing would happen to her and she'd be fine, they all would.

--

It had taken some time - as the two Aavan had grown sluggish as the night got deeper - but they'd found a heat cavern, a safe place to bed down for the night. They'd found it just in time, too, as the first splatters of heavy, fat raindrops had started to pour down from the black sky. Rask had looked up then, a strange expression coming across his face, an even odder feeling coming over him before he'd moved back into the cavern and had dismissed it for the time being.

No, he'd curled up with Lyra instead, Asesee more near the lava pool than they, and all of them had gone to sleep, grateful for the rest, for the heat and for the safety of each other.

That had been hours ago, though, and now...now Rask knew what had woken him.

It wasn't pain, but it was a feeling, a ripple running through his mind, almost felt along his skin. It was the beginning of faint pressure all along his body and the gold Aavan sat up slowly, settling a hand on Lyra's hip in reassurance that there was no danger as he knew his movement would probably instantly make her assume the worst, alert and protective as she was right now.

No, it wasn't danger he sensed.

It was the birth-pangs of hope.

 

[DotCom]

Even before she was awake, she knew this time was different.

Rora would never be able to say what exactly gave her such an infallible assurance, whether it be Mori's sureness on the edges of her mind, or the lingering strength of the Maiden sensing something in the storm. Nothing felt different -- she was almost used to the contractions now, and when the first came, it was starling, though not frightening -- but somehow she knew these would not be stopped by time or medication or even some miracle from Mori's brother.

No, her children were coming truly now.

Rora woke more fully as the contraction intensified and Mori's immediate presence at her side told her she'd been right. She said nothing at first, simply wrapping her fingers around his and curling close, waiting as patiently as she could for the pain to pass. She let him comfort her, the small start of panic resting at the back of her throat -- she was excited as she was nervous, trusting the team Siya and Yenna had assembled to get her children through their birth alive.

But that was for later. She knew this would be the last moment she and Mori ever shared together, alone. They would be joined by healers and Matron and midwives and the like soon enough, and after that, they would be parents to their girls. A strange bubble of nostalgia rose in her throat and Rora closed her eyes, holding her breath, as she tucked her forehead into the crook of Mori's neck. Waiting, waiting...

And when the first contraction finally passed, she looked up at him, anxious and excited and full of trust and love, unsure of what to say, until he pointed out the window at the storm, and she grinned.

It seemed only appropriate that the sky would part to welcome their children. In that moment, she had no doubt the twins would do great things.

She nuzzled Mori in that space of silence between the coming bustle of energy and excitement.

She said nothing, but she sent the thought nonetheless.

I love you. Thank you for this wonderful gift.

--

It had taken Lyra a long time to fall asleep. She'd been tired, worn out, like Rask and Asesee, by the day's events, its emotional peaks and valleys. But she hadn't felt ready for sleep just yet, and certainly not before Rask fell asleep.

It was a little easier to relax when she felt the warmth wash over him, the tension going out of him, despite his strange reaction to the storm outside. He had curled around her, and she let him, lying down on her side to watch him drift off, one hand playing with his hair the whole while. The protective rage inside of her hadn't cooled, quite, but it had settled to a low rumble and Lyra suspected if she kept very still, if nothing happened to Rask, she could keep it that way until they got back to the city and there was time and space to vent.

Until then, it manifested in her moody silence, almost completely ignoring Asesee as she watched Rask drift off under the weight of everything he had learned that day. She felt almost content, almost calm watching him, able to touch and feel him this close to her, his breath tickling her neck. The exhaustion that pressed down on her was nothing compared to the relief of knowing he was not in pain, not afraid, not screaming anymore.

She stayed awake for long hours, feeling more stable than sleepy, though exhaustion must have claimed her at some point, because when she next woke, it was to Rask's movement, and in an instant, she was awake, fumbling for a weapon she didn't have, searching Rask's mind for the danger that had woken him, for whatever dared to try and hurt him again, even as her mind reflexively offered comfort, a promise of safety.

It was a moment before she realized his hand was on her hip, his mind within hers, whispering quiet, if distracted, reassurances.

It was another several moments before she had calmed enough to follow him anyway.

She sat slowly and pressed herself closer to him, already hating that brief distance come between them.

"What?" she asked quietly, sensing he did not want to be distracted, and yet unable to bear his silence any longer. "What is it?"

 

[Kaisaan]

Mori kept close to Rora as the contractions progressed, but there came a time when the room flooded with the team that would keep his mate alive, his daughters alive and the black Aavan paced just beyond the bed as they checked Rora over. Only once did someone suggest he leave for a little while, claiming it would be a while before anything significant happened. They'd found themselves facing a lightning bolt at their feet, scorching the floor before them.

No such suggestion was made again and Mori was soon allowed back at the bed again.

His mind stayed close within Rora's, the blue containing her power as it got harder for her to concentrate on anything but what was happening. But just because he could control his mate's power did not mean that Mori's was restricted and the team were suddenly very respectful of that. The black Aavan hardly paid them any mind, though, too focused on Rora, on keeping her calm and soothing the fear and edges of panic that still lingered over her thoughts.

Mori acknowledged each one before dissolving it with a few words, a gesture, the soothing blue against the violet. He whispered to the Cerebra constantly, telling her how brave she was and what a wonderful mother she'd make.

And he tried not to think too deeply on his own nerves, the thought of being a father and how it would feel to hold a small life in his hands for the first time, to see them for the first time. He had to focus on Rora right now. He could think about the rest later, but right now, his babies were safe.

The gold glow that could just be seen through Rora's stomach, glowing so brightly, was proof of that.

--

The twins, they were coming.

That's how Rask had answered Lyra and the awe, excitement in his voice had been clear to hear. THIS was why he'd come here. Oh, he'd found something so much better, so much more - Lyra, a new family, a new life - but the twins had been the reason such was possible for him at all. If not for his mission concerning them...he wouldn't be in this place, wrapped up with his mate, the one he loved.

So the thought that his purpose for being here was finally going to BE HERE...

Rask found he could not go back to sleep. There was still no pain, but he could feel each contraction in a way, as if he were one of the children within Rora's womb, feeling pressure, ripples as the walls of the uterus started to move both twins down where they needed to be. It was an odd sensation, but not a bad one and the gold Aavan knew he'd keep feeling it until the girls were here.

In fact...it would be when they were ready to truly come out that he'd be needed the most and the most danger would be present...but that was a little while off.

 

[DotCom]

She knew, vaguely, what was happening.

Rora knew she had reached the final stages of her pregnancy, that her body was no longer sufficient to keep her children alive. They had done as much growing as her frame would allow, and soon, so soon, she would be able to hold them, see them, feel them in a way she had never been able to before. She would be able to share them with Mori, and eventually, with the others -- but woe to any who tried too early to come between her and her new family. And while it terrified her that she would no longer be able to protect them as closely, she was too happy to be able to hold them to care.

She knew all this, and she knew Mori was nearby, just as excited and nervous as she. She could feel his presence in her mind, calming, soothing, promising everything would be okay, and she was mostly inclined to believe him, though it was getting more and more difficult to concentrate on his voice. Each new pang from her belly broke her concentration anew and sent her scrambling for those same reassurances -- this was normal. It would be over soon, and the twins would be born safe and healthy and happy. She could hear echoes of these promises in her head, and it took only a moment to recall Mori was still there, even if he'd been resigned to pacing by her bed.

All around her, voices encouraged her to relax, to breathe. The contractions had started, but it was to be a while yet before she was actually required to do anything. Rora only half listened, the rest of her mind with Mori, vaguely aware of his own fears and concerns. The space between contractions gave her a moment of clarity and green eyes sought him out in the room, over the heads of half a dozen people she hardly recognized.

"Mori?" Then, afraid he hadn't heard. "Mori?"

He was too far away. She didn't blame him, not really. Her hair clung to her face in dark spirals. Sweat soaked through her clothing into the bed, and when someone -- not Mori, and that was all that mattered -- came to offer cool water, she'd pushed them away, almost blacking an eye, even without the powers Mori now restrained.

This wasn't right. There were too many people here, and all of them clustered closer than Mori. She'd wanted just a few more minutes with him, she wanted to promise him the girls would be okay, she wanted him close, closer, in case they weren't.

Unbidden, another wave of pain rippled across her belly, and she shut her eyes and whimpered.

"Mori? Mori, please come back. Don't...don't be scared, I...I can't...Come back..."

--

Half a night away, Lyra stared at Rask for a long moment before a tired smile split her face, her first in days. She only distantly understood his joy, but it was joy, and that was all she cared about. She curled close, her mind settling around his, and waited.

 

[Kaisaan]

Mori had only moved back to allow the team to check on Rora once more, but at her words, he was pushing his way back through, snarling threateningly at those who didn't move fast enough until he was at his mate's side, standing by the head of the bed and stroking her sweat-soaked hair without hesitation, bringing his forehead to her own in a rare moment between the contractions.

"Shh, shh, I'm right here, little rainbow. I'm here. I haven't left." he said steadily into her mind, wishing he could soothe the pain that made the violet threads sharp along the edges. This was one pain he couldn't help, though, one natural process that he couldn't aid or make better and the black Aavan simply hushed and soothed where he could. It didn't matter if Rora could understand him anymore or not, he merely kept talking to her just so she'd hear the lulling sound of his voice, know he was here.

He hardly knew what he said, only knowing he spoke of the twins and how beautiful they'd be, like their mother, and how much he wanted to meet them. He told her how brave she was and that everything would be all right. Mori said anything and everything as he refused to move from her side again, letting those caring for her work around him.

It was hours of this and Rora was finally experiencing the contractions closer together, the pain often overlapping into the next cycle before she could get an breather when the words came from a Whisperer and Mori felt breath freeze in his throat.

"They're breech!"

She was holding a device over Rora's stomach, showing the shape of the twins within and a frown was on her face, but Mori soon discovered it was not for the positioning of the babies but rather something far stranger.

"And there seem to be some...extra limbs or something. We might need to cut them out."

 

[DotCom]

Four hours in, Rora had stopped fighting the delivery team, and given herself over to soft assurances from Mori. She could hardly understand what he was saying anymore, but the cadences were soothing, and the violet threads had been reduced to meek shivers as they coiled around the patient blue. She was tired enough now she might have dropped off to sleep again, only the contractions were coming closer together, more fiercely than before, marked only by quiet whimpers from Rora, occasionally whispering Mori's name aloud when she forget herself. She stayed curled as close to him as the healers and Whisperers clustered around her would allow, constantly touching with a hand or an arm, or pressing her cheek to his leg, waiting for the pain to pass.

She had moved beyond quiet whimpers into a state of semi-delirium, exhausted and frustrated with the pain, begging Mori to 'make them leave her alone' in the increasingly rare moments when a contraction let her think long enough for words.

She hadn't even heard what the Whisperer had said. There was only a flash of pain, stronger than the others, and then a spike of panic from Mori. At once, Rora was up, the pain all but gone as she scurried away from the delivery team, toward Mori.

"Go away!" she shrieked, pushing at them with shaking hands, because she could not find her powers for some reason. "Don't touch me! Leave me alone!" She felt Mori at her back and turned to face him, eyes wide, desperate, unfocused.

"We have to go," she begged, only half remembering to keep her words focused on him. "We have to go! They're going to hurt the babies, they -- they...something is wrong, Mori, we have to go! Hurry!"

 

[Kaisaan]

The black Aavan realized instantly that his own fear was not going to help Rora and even as his physical body was moving to soothe his mate's panic, he was centering himself inwardly, closing his eyes for a moment, using the same technique he'd used in captivity to push the emotions he didn't need away. In this case it was fear, panic or anger. He needed none of those things. What he needed was to remain calm, logical and supportive for Rora.

Mori focused on those things, on calming the terrified violet with the calm blue even as his arms came around Rora, his hands finding her stomach, feeling her own touch his, both of them instinctively wanting to protect their children. "Rora, little rainbow, no one is going to hurt them. No one, I promise. They're going to help. Trust me, Nmaera-Amaa."

Violet eyes met green and Mori kissed Rora's head softly. "Trust me." he whispered to her, all the while a part of his mind reaching out to the nearest Healer, his voice lethally calm in the poor Aavan's head.

"How do we fix this?"

The orange Aavan looked to the rest of the team, relaying the question and gazes met all around, nervous as they glanced back at Mori. Rora was not their worry right now. She might be emotional, even hysterical and she might want to rip them to shreds, but without her powers, she was as helpless as any expectant mother in the throes of labor. Her own body was bound to cripple her before could do any real damage than their influence would in restraining her. No, it was Mori that held the cards now. Not only could he release Rora's power to her, but he had his own and right now his violet eyes said he wouldn't hesitate to murder every one of them if they didn't make their decisions wisely.

Finally there was an answer. "If the twins can't be flipped in time or if they do flip, but their bodies won't...fit through properly, we might have to cut Rora open to get them out." A Whisperer answered slowly.

Mori's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits, but he kept his anger, his fear from being felt by Rora and right now she was so out of it that unless she were searching him deeply, she wouldn't get past the wall. "And Rora? What is the risk to her?"

The silence was telling enough.

 

[DotCom]

Somehow, she heard his words, the the fear now sharp enough to dull the pain. He wouldn't let her leave, and Rora still trusted her mate, so she didn't fight. But neither did she hand herself over to the team around her, none of whom would even look at her, though she felt none of Mori's anger or fear to give her any indication. She sat there, trembling, her back to his chest, her arms wrapped around her belly, watching warily for any of them to take a step closer.

None of them did.

Slowly, she began to relax, her trembling easing, though she made no move to lie back down, either. She could feel Mori behind her, feel him comforting, soothing her, promising everything would be okay, and then, behind that, a vague pall of something else. Worry, maybe? Anger? Concern? It was hard to tell. He felt distant, far away, even as he stood at her back, and she had just turned again to ask him what was wrong, when she felt a spike of something else that froze her blood in her veins.

The panic, she recognized. A heady, breathless panic, tinged with fear, confusion. Pain. That was not what alarmed her.

No, what scared Rora was that the fear didn't come from her, or Mori, or even the team of Aavan and Cerbrae around her.

The fear came from inside of her. The fear came from her children. And it was then she realized how very wrong things were.

"Out," she said, her voice a hoarse whisper so gentle, even she didn't hear it the first time. So, she said it again. "Out." The fear, the panic came again, and at once her heart was thudding in her chest as she realized her unborn children were dying inside her.

"Out! Get them out! Now! They're dying! They -- " Everything ceased to exist then. There was no pain, no noise, no fear, no nothing except the paralyzing instinct to save her children.

She lunged forward, pulling away from Mori, nearly tumbling off the bed in the process, but careful to keep her belly protected. Her Empathy was going haywire, jumping from mind to mind, until she could hardly tell what was being said and what was being only thought, by whom, about whom. It didn't matter. None of it mattered. Her children were dying inside her, and no one was doing anything.

She clambered, knowing, sensing, there must be a tray of tools somewhere nearby. Someone had moved it away from her, sensing her hysteria, but she didn't care. Desperate, she cast around, and to her surprise, saw Siya, looking somewhat stricken, at the end of her bed.

"Siya?" she gasped. Then, without giving the Prodigy a chance to answer. "Siya! Cut!" The pointed at her belly, demanding. "Now! Siya, they're dying, you know they are. Do it!"

Siya gaped for a second then appeared to return to herself. "Rora," she said gently, stepping forward to coax the would-be mother into lying down again. "We...can't yet, we'd...we need to prepare for surgery, sterilization, anesthesia...It's..."

"There's no time!" bellowed Rora, lunging forward again, only to collapse to her side as another flash of pain went through her, followed by more fear. Stars, her children were dying, didn't anyone care?

Mori, a voice whispered in her mind, and her head snapped up. Mori can help.

She dragged herself back to her knees, now shuddering with the pain, certain she was going to be sick, and not caring. Her mate stood out like a beacon in the darkness, and she felt herself succubing to panic again, tears streaming from wide, unfocused eyes.

"Mori?" she whimpered. "Mori, you have to give me back my powers. I won't hurt anyone, I promise. I have to...we...we have to..." Another wordless sob, another tremor of pain and fear. "Mori, they're dying. They're dying. It's...gonna be too late. Please..."

 

[Kaisaan]

Mori cursed himself for not being fast enough, for not hanging on to his mate and when she lurched away from him, he followed, but didn't grab a hold of her again, scared to death of harming her, of causing more distress to her. So for a moment he only watched, listened, absorbing the situation, his mind racing for some kind of solution, to reconcile what he was being told with what he wanted to accept. They weren't coming together well and it wasn't until Rora fell to her side that he snapped out of his daze and darted for her, snarling savagely at the first person who tried to reach for her.

The fact that it was Siya didn't matter.

No, his focus was on Rora, on the fear and pain he could feel coming from her, nearly driving him into a feral state, though, he fought it back. He couldn't give in to primal instincts, not this time. She needed him to be calm where she was frantic, strong where she was weak, she needed him to THINK, to comprehend what was going on because she was unable to truly do so.

But Mori couldn't think.

All he could hear was her voice, pleading with him to cut her, to hurt her....to save their children......and all he could picture was her death, their children being orphans. All he could see was the joy that had surrounded them evaporating into a horrible nightmare he couldn't wake from. And Mori was shaking his head before he could think, his violet eyes wide in fear as his hands found Rora's head.

"No. No, no, no, no..."

The black Aavan wasn't even sure what he was denying, but when someday he looked back at this blur of a day, he'd know it was the choice he could not fathom; his mate or his children? How could he choose? How could anyone choose between two things so precious?

He knew what Rora would choose, what she WAS choosing and it brought bile into his throat as tears streamed down his face and he grit his teeth, shaking as those around them waited for his response.

And he had to choose, didn't he?

--

The first spike of pain was so surprising that Rask cried out with it, his entire body growing rigid as he panted for breath, the pressure around him intensifying, growing far more than uncomfortable now. He couldn't focus, could barely hear Lyra at all, though, he knew she had to be frantic by now and ready to kill. But he couldn't even make calming her down matter right now. The pain consumed him, but not in the same way it had on the battle field. No, this pain didn't even come close to that, but it was the reason for it that kept him paralyzed with a deep fear that was slowly beginning to make sense.

"Breech. They're breech..."

The gold Aavan didn't speak to anyone at all, but Asesee's hand flew to her mouth in horror and she looked at the entrance to the cavern as if she might fly out and...do what? No, there was nothing she could do, nothing any of them could do. The team would have to take care of it. They'd....they'd cut the babies out and Rora...if she was strong, she'd survive it....maybe...

If Mori let them. If the twins died, then they could be taken out more safely, but...

But Rask.

He was connected to the twins. If something happened to them...

The male gold whimpered, struggling to breathe as another wave of pain, panic, fear not his own went through him and then his dilated green eyes were snapping to Lyra's tangerine and his voice was flooding her head. "They're dying. Lyra, they're dying! I have to....I need...." he grimaced again, grunting as he sucked in sharply and then exhaled shakily.

"I n-need energy...y-yours...pl-please..."

 

[DotCom]

Siya watched, heart pounding in her chest, though you would never guess it from her face. One of the Aavan healers had yanked her away from Rora when the Empath had fallen, either seeing Mori first, or just recognizing that even Siya was not quite in her right mind at the moment. It had been enough to jar her back to her senses and as she watched the scene, watching Rora's pain and fear begin to overcome Mori -- who, she had to admit, had stayed calm much longer than she'd guessed possible -- she braced herself to take the lead. What else could she do? Asesee and Rask were gone. There was no time to go fetch Tac and Yenna. And if she allowed Rora and Mori to stay in this state of mindless panic, they would return to themselves to find their children dead. And that...Siya shuddered at the thought.

No. Someone had to move.

She started forward again, and a hand shot out to stop her. A Matron named Kimbre, all in shades of pink from head to toe. Her bubblegum eyes shone in the darkness.

"What are you doing?" she hissed. "If you touch her, he'll kill you!"

Siya shook her head, pulled away. "And if no one does anything, it will be much worse. For them, and for us."

Taking a deep breath, Siya steeled herself to approach Mori and his cowering mate. She felt another hand at her side, this one helping, and turned to see Kefia, the Prodigy who had monitored Mori all those months ago in the labs. A silent something went between them, and they stepped forward together.

--

Looking at Mori, Rora knew he was scared, terrified, and in that moment, things stopped making sense. She knew there was danger. And she knew, vaguely, at least, it had to do with her, with her children. And she knew if she didn't do something, she would lose them and Mori both.

A strange light came to her eyes, and the tension all but fell from her body. She was still soaked in sweat, still shaking with pain and fear. But it wasn't reaching her mind anymore. There was an almost manic calmness in her green eyes as she leaned forward to kiss Mori.

"'Sokay," she promised drunkenly. She couldn't seem to form words correctly, and her hands felt clumsy as they found his face, his cheekbones and the wetness there. "Mori? I'll fix it. I'll -- " She broke off, doubled over, whimpered, straightened again. "I can do it. You don't hafta worry. I'll fix it. Let me go, okay? Let me go, and I'll fix it, and it will be okay."

Another flare of pain, panic. She whimpered again and tried to tug herself free from his grasp. "Mori? Mori, please. You have to trust me. Please. Please..."

--

She'd started to half doze off beside him, her head on his shoulder, her hand curled in his -- because somehow, she was still not comfortable being unable to touch him, see him when she needed to -- when Rask's startled yelp of pain had Lyre scrambling to her feet. She dropped down just as quickly beside him, brushing pale strands of hair from his face, her mind, her voice remarkably soothing even as the rest of her shook with rage.

"Rask?" she said, then again when she worried he hadn't heard. "Rask? What is it? It's alright. I'm here." She spoke as gently as she could manage, moving without thinking to settle his head in her lap, just as Rora had always done. And even as her mind soothed and comforted, her eyes darted about the small cavern, landing first on Asesee with an almost tangible hatred there.

She knew, logically, the female Aavan had done nothing. But Rask's newly incensed state had reawoken that senseless rage in her again, and Asesee was the first target she found.

Lyra made a sound that was half growl, half choking, ready to tear the female Aavan to shreds with her bare hands -- when Rask spoke.

Lyra's eyes shot down to her Bonded again, frowning in equal parts anger and concern. Breech? Rora was in labor, then...and it was not going well. Lyra wasn't particularly surprised. Had anyone expected the delivery of two hybrid children from a Cerebrae, a non-Matron, to go flawlessly?

But she had not considered how it would affect Rask. If she had to watch him die...again...

She had just settled on Pushing Asesee to fly the three of them back to the city, knowing full well Rask would hate her for it, and deciding she didn't care so long as he lived, when he spoke again, and the maddening pressure growing behind her eyes, in her chest, was at once relieved.

He was giving her answers. He was giving her something to do. And while she didn't understand it -- how could she give him her energy? What did it mean? -- she was scrambling to do it almost before the words had even left his mouth.

"O-okay," she stammered, hands still trembling as they brushed hair from his face. At once, the scarlet threads in her mind leapt forward, eager to appease, twinning around the gold, glowing an almost fiery red as they struggled to make sense of the strange instruction. "Okay. Okay, I will. You...you can have it, as much as you need, as much as you want, take it all, just please...please don't leave me again."

 

[Kaisaan]

Rask managed a smile at her words, her willingness and pride swept out from him, enveloping the Keeper for just a moment. He was proud of her, in awe of her actually. She'd never failed him as far as Rask was concerned, not once. She'd always saved him and now, she was going to help him save the twins.

He couldn't have loved Lyra more than he did at that moment and for a brief moment, the smallest fraction in time, he leaned into her touch, enjoyed the simple comfort, pleasure it brought before the pain jerked him back into focus.

"H-hafta leave...to-to save...will c-come back....pr-promise..."

The pressure was nearly unbearable now, making it far more difficult to breathe and Rask moaned through gritted teeth even as he closed his eyes and drew himself inward. The scarlet swarmed around him, eager, desperate, hopeful, scared, angry and Rask let it even as he let himself start to connect one part of himself to every one scarlet thread until Lyra herself started to understand and help the process. One gold for one scarlet until there was an intricate web of color.

And then Rask started to pull.

The scarlet color began to bleed into the gold, to bleaching out of Lyra's strands, but turning the gold threads a dark orange. Rask's eyes snapped open then, a solid gold, no pupil or iris to be seen as he stared into nothing and his mind began to detach from his body, a strange power stirring within him that suddenly broke away from the flesh that held it and sped toward its goal.

Rask was still connected to Lyra, that had not been severed as he continued to drain her of the energy she'd give him, but his mind was no longer in his body, gone from the cavern and instead hurtling across the plains and back toward the city.

--

He wouldn't let her go.

Her words barely made sense to him and if they had, they would have horrified Mori anyway. No, all that made sense to him was protecting her and the black Aavan could sense her intent, saw madness in the eerie calm she extended. It scared him more than anything else had up until now and he refused to let Rora go as she pulled against him.

Mori didn't know what to do.

He couldn't let his mate die, but he didn't want his children, their miracles, their blessing and hope, their future to die either. Why couldn't he have them both? WHY couldn't he, just this ONCE, have something go RIGHT? Why couldn't he have them BOTH!?

The black Aavan knew he was sobbing now and didn't care as he kept Rora close, searching for something, anything to make this better without forcing him to make that horrible choice. The more he tried to think about it, though, the more panicked he became and it wasn't any wonder that when Kefia reached for him, perhaps to soothe more than anything, she found herself pulling back with a cry, his fangs having sank into her arm, a bloodcurdling snarl at Mori's throat.

Lightning flared over his skin, the storm outside darkening, lightly gathering....and then everything seemed to stop as a flash of gold ignited in the room and as everyone watched, Rask's form suddenly materialized. Only it wasn't a solid form, shimmering and glowing, like thousands of lights all gathered together to make a shape. But that shape was Rask down to the last detail and it was the gold Aavan who approached the distraught parents, who gave Mori a look when the black Aavan snapped toward him, going right through.

The touch - or lack thereof - seemed to awaken Mori and he stared, amazed, scared at his brother, but Rask only smiled slightly back and looked instead to Rora, kneeling down where her belly radiated a soft glow that intensified to a brilliant gold the moment Rask brought his glowing, translucent hands over her stomach. His brows furrowed as he concentrated and then his palms moved away, instead coming to face each other as if they suddenly cradled something between them, something they were keeping safe and secure as he started to move his hands at the same time, rotating them.

And within Rora...a baby started to move.

 

[DotCom]

There was a moment of calm in which Lyra realized -- not for the first time -- how easy it would be to die for him. He smiled up at her, and she stared back, momentarily bewildered, before she smiled, too, wondering at the back of her mind how she could sever the Bond if she had to. How, if it came to it, she would save his life if it meant ending hers.

Then the pain overwhelmed him again, and she was snapped back into that place of meaningless nothing, where duty presided and she kept a cool head, because she had to. Even as his mind drew her in, she calmed, muttering soothing nothings as she felt the pain grow in his mind.

She was hardly even aware when he first began to draw the energy from her. She was focused instead on weaving that wall of red and gold, her mind split between helping him and comforting him. It was only when he left her she began to panic.

She reached for him on instinct, already having half forgotten his promise he would return. There was a wild, manic anger suddenly, at Rora and Mori, at the twins Rask had once more risked himself to save. She might have leapt up to go after him, happily leaving Asesee behind...but Rask's body was still there, still warm and uncomfortably still in her laps.

She stared down at him, her vision swimming, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

"Rask?"

He didn't answer, didn't so much as move, and when she felt for him, there was nothing...except that slow, steady draining, vibrant along the orangey strands in her mind. She stared at them, transfixed for a moment, before it occurred to her sluggish mind she would not be able to feel anything at all if Rask had truly gone.

She shut her eyes and a wave of dizziness washed over her, and she saw, at least, a moment of redemption, a chance to make up to Rask for having failed him again and again. With everything she had left, she reinforced those new orange flowing strands and poured herself into them, once again becoming the Keeper she'd once been, as stubbornly tenacious as anything.

She shut her eyes and focused herself on giving everything to Rask if it killed her, and in her lap she smoothed a hand over his hair, over and over, until she couldn't lift her hands anymore.

--

Mori didn't seem to hear, and it was scaring her. She had tried asking, then begging, then pleading, then screaming, and he'd not reacted, and now she was all but fighting with him, still frantically trying to explain that she was going to save her children somehow.

At the other end of the bed, Siya was nearing the end of her rope. It was clear neither Mori nor Rora could be spoken to. Mori clutched Rora to him, equal parts possessive and terrified, and the Empath seemed unable to free herself. When Kefia had gone forward to help, she'd been rewarded with a deep gash in her arm...which, to her credit, she quickly bound before returning to the fight.

Meanwhile, Siya was preparing to sedate Rora, wondering whether she ought to try Rora or Mori first. Mori was the more dangerous one in this situation...but even if they managed to put Mori out, it would only mean Rora would panic...and she'd have her powers back. She was just orchestrating a possibility in sedating both at the same time, when that strange, somehow familiar gold light entered the room.

Everyone went still and silent in an instant. Everyone but Rora, who stared, transfixed for a moment, before panic erupted in her face.

She recognized that light. It was the same someone -- Rask? -- had brought when she'd begun false labor weeks prior. It had stopped the babies being born then. She didn't want that now.

"No!" she screamed, bucking away from the light, from the form that had taken shape in the room -- ghost? Monster? She didn't know. Her body ached, her vision swam. Sweat trickled down her back, into her eyes. She didn't want to be here anymore. She needed to run. She needed her powers back.

She trembled against Mori, her strength gone.

"No...," she whimpered, still trying to pull away from Mori, though her movements had become sluggish. "Go 'way...don't...don't touch...Leave me -- "

And then the Rask-thing touched her belly, and the fear and pain erupted into a delight, desperate burst of hope. There was stillness. A firework of pain. Rora screamed and doubled over...and then gasped. With the pain, there had been movement.

Salvation.

Rora stopped fighting at once, looking to the thing that was maybe Rask through half lidded eyes. She wanted to ask how this was possible, what he was doing. She wanted to thank him, and scream at him for not coming early.

Instead, she said only, "Hurry."

 

[Kaisaan]

Rask felt the burst of energy from Lyra like light behind his eyes and his power pulled it in greedily, but then narrowed the strands connecting him to his mate, slowing the amount she could give him after that, rationing it. If she killed herself, he wouldn't want to live and then the twins would die. If she killed herself, she couldn't help him and he couldn't live without her. Rask knew she didn't yet understand that, not truly so on his end., She knew she couldn't live without him, had thought she was experiencing that - though, the emptiness she would have felt if he had died would have been so much worse - but it seemed his Keeper had not yet connected the dots enough to understand what it would do to him if SHE died.

No, he wouldn't have her sacrificing herself. It wasn't what he wanted and he wouldn't allow it. And seeing as he was the one using the energy she gave him, he could decide how much he took. It wouldn't be life-threatening to Lyra, he refused to even get close to that mark.

What she'd given him was enough though for now and Rask used it wisely as he looked to Rora, unable to hear her or speak to her, though she wouldn't know that and then back to her stomach, his hands moving away from one section and to another. He saw what they could not, not even with their technology.

He saw the children within as if the skin, muscle and tissue of their mother's stomach didn't even exist. He saw their faces and bodies. He was IN there with them, understanding what everyone else could not comprehend as he moved the small bodies carefully within their confinement, delicately so as not to tangle them in their own limbs, gently moving an umbilical cord from around a neck, positioning them both perfectly so Rora's body could accomplish what it needed to do.

The golden glow, Rask, caressed their heads, backs gently, reassuringly before a shielding came around both babies, keeping their special features close to their bodies, safe from harm for when they delivered.

With one last smile to the two, he finally looked up to Rora, to Mori and offered a smile that was warm and encouraging before he disappeared completely, his mind hurtling back into his body with a painful slam that had the gold Aavan arching sharply, his breathing coming in choked gasps as his eyes cleared, seeped green once more and his power broke the connection with Lyra, no longer bleaching the scarlet threads of everything they would give.

The pain fled as soon as it had come and from the twins....the normal pressure of birth, but no pain, no fear.

It brought a smile of triumphant joy to Rask's face as his body relaxed into Lyra's hold and he looked to her, knowing she was as exhausted as he was, but able to lift his hand and brush her cheek affectionately.

"Thank you."

 

[DotCom]

She didn't open her eyes until she felt him come back, felt him arch and grimace in her lap, her strained breathes whistling through his windpipe, felt their strange new connection let go with a shudder made her put a shaky arm out for support.

But when Lyra finally did chance to open her eyes, she felt herself come close to sobbing in relief.

He had come back. He stared up at her, exhausted, but smiling, and that was all that mattered. She'd lost count now of how many times she'd nearly lost him, how many times she'd watched helpless, raging and afraid, as something threatened to pull him away from her for good. She'd been so willing to give more than he needed, more even than he wanted if it would save him, if it would stop the pain. She could only guess at whether he'd been successful, whether Rora held two squalling newborns in her arms, or whether it was Mori who held her, the two almost parents consoling each other, perhaps before heading into madness.

It didn't matter. She knew it should, but it didn't. Rask had kept his promise, had come back to her, and she stared down at him, her own breaths coming ragged with barely withheld sobs as she lifted a trembling hand to pull her fingers through his hair.

She could keenly feel the energy he'd pulled from her, and yet she was ready and willing to give more, if only to see him smile like that a moment longer. Instead, she shook her head to clear it, still hardly able to breathe, and lifted his head from her lap again to lie down next to him, the cavern walls spinning around her head.

She curled up along side him, nearly nose to nose, still unable to speak, and without anything to say anyway, then summoned what remained of her strength to stroke his hair again, finding herself once more unable to keep from touching him.

She opened her mouth to speak, and found herself doing quite the opposite. In an instant, she had turned away, exhausted, embarrassed, her face hot with shame as she cried tears of relief and anger and pain and fatigue into the earth below her.

"I-I'm okay," she explained shakily, trying to soothe any worry that may have cropped up in the face of such unexpected behavior. "I'm sorry. I'm okay. I'm...I'm okay, I'm just tired. Just...just tired."

--

In the morning, Rora would hardly remember Rask had even been in the room.

A long, stunned silence followed his disappearance before another more severe contraction made Rora yelp in pain, and then her carefully assembled team of Aavan and Cerebrae leapt forward. If they were shaking by what had happened, by Kefia's bleeding arm, or Rora's mindless state, they did not show it. As far as they were concerned, they had all of them been given a second chance, and they did not plan to waste it.

Siya led the charge, purple eyes hard as she moved about making final preparations for the delivery. She estimated after Rask's help, they had minutes, if that, before the first twin began to make its appearance into the world.

She stopped -- carefully -- by Rora's head to rest her hand on the Empath's sweatsoaked brow for as long as Mori would let her.

"You're almost done," she promised somberly. "That...that was the worst bit, alright? Just a little longer, and you can rest."

Rora had stared at her, uncomprehending, with glazed eyes before the contraction overtook her again and she moaned aloud, this time for her mate, hoping, praying she could pull him out of his dazed state.

"M-Mori? A-are you...are you alright?" A brief whimper, a shudder. "I'm...I'm tired." Another whimper, then, almost shyly. "Mori, it hurts."

 

[Kaisaan]

Rask could feel every atom in his body trembling with exhaustion, pleading for him to just rest. Taking energy was tiring in and of itself. Harnessing that energy - a wild energy that belonged to another person and didn't feel like cooperating once that other person let it go to him - was challenging in and of itself. But to do both things and then use that energy for something like what he'd done....the gold Aavan knew he was lucky to even be awake, even if he was slowly slipping into a less lucid state.

It didn't matter, though.

It had been more than worth it.

And now he was lying beside the one who'd made it possible, his incredibly beautiful, brave mate and Rask crooned softly in response to her touch, never feeling like he'd complain to have it, not when he'd been without it, without any contact for so long. Perhaps that was part of the reason why Lyra couldn't stop offering it, the Bond sensing what he needed just as he was becoming attuned to what she needed.

Like now.

"Hey, shh...shh....I know. I know, Crimson. Come here."

Oh, Lyra was tired, would be for some hours, but it wasn't merely exhaustion that was making her react thus and Rask, with the remaining strength he had, pulled the Keeper close, curling around her both outwardly and inwardly, offering protection to the protector for a change. A much needed change. He knew Lyra didn't want to need protection, but like it or not, that's what the Bond did. It equalized everything. And like it or not, Rask was not going to let her push away that part of it.

It was his turn this time to hold her close and shush her softly, to place a kiss in her rust-orange hair and tell her he understood, that he loved her and to sleep. He wasn't leaving, he was here and he wasn't leaving again. He'd done what he was meant to do for this day. The rest would follow nature's course.

And he would stay with the one who needed him more.

--

Mori had offered Siya nothing more than a warning growl at her actions, more of a threat of harm if she did something wrong rather than an warning of imminent strike. He stopped again when she pulled back and his attention went back to his mate, the feral state of his mind for the first time in a very, very long time....absolutely clueless as to what to do. Males...didn't deal with these kinds of things, not usually. They were even kept out of the cavern, other males keeping them from barging in if necessary, until the baby or babies were born. It was better that way, for everyone.

But this was a different case, unique as the children being born would be.

That didn't mean Mori knew what to do, though, and it took Rora's last words to jolt him back from a primal state and into a thinking one where logic could at least help him more than instinct could. The first thing he did was lift his mate from the floor. She would not have their children there, but in a bed where she could lean back into the pillows and hold her daughters after it was all over.

The black Aavan settled her there and then moved to sit on the edge of the bed, taking Rora's hand and his free one smoothing back her hair as he leaned in to kiss her sweat-shiny forehead. "I know. I know, Rora, but it will be over soon. You have to be strong, just a little longer." he whispered to her and then looked back at the team, feeling a strange feeling go through him when one Healer gave a nod.

It was time.

Violet eyes met green then and Mori spoke firmly, squeezing Rora's hand in love, in assurance, in the only support he could give as the blue of his mind wrapped around the violet of her own, soothing how could, but knowing the pain wouldn't stop until their children were here. "It's time, Rora. Push, little rainbow, you have to push."

Mori wasn't entirely sure how long it took or what he said or even what Rora said. All he knew was that it all ended in one quiet moment that was broken by the high-pitched wailing of an infant and the black Aavan's heart seemed to stop with the noise as his eyes found the source; a small little body with a golden glow around it that was just starting to fade. He slowly looked back at Rora and kissed her forehead as her body gave her a brief interlude between contractions, between births, and then he stood, walking slowly forward as the baby - his daughter as a Whisperer announced the gender - was wrapped in a blanket, the umbilical cord cut and clamped off and then handed to him.

The feeling of the small weight in his arms, the sound of crying and seeing a reddened face scrunched up in angry indignation at the cold of the room and being in an unfamiliar environment melted Mori's heart completely and he smile that broke out over his face as unlike any that had ever come before it as he made his way back to the bed and sat, giving Rora the first look at her eldest child; a baby with a tuft of black-white hair and the wrinkling skin of a newborn, and the most striking pair of eyes Mori had ever seen.

One the brightest sapphire blue and the other a vivid scarlet red.

She was beautiful and now serenely quiet as she looked at her mother with such clear recognition.

 

[DotCom]

Lying there, Lyra felt his exhaustion as keenly as her own, if not moreso, and silently cursed herself for choosing this moment to fall apart. All day long she had promised herself relief, a venting session, or near as when they returned to the city, when Rask had rested, when she knew selfishly returning to her own problems would not cause a relapse in him.

She tried to stifle her tears, tried to coax Rask away, back to sleep, ease him out of the pain and exhaustion that now held him captive. She could not afford another mistake, could not risk yet another misstep to see Rask taken away from her.

And yet as his arms came around her, she felt those defenses breaking down, worn away by fear and exhaustion, ground down into nearly nothing and trembling under the task of withholding herself until later.

She fought him at first, gently, afraid to hurt him. She tried to tell him she was alright, tried to tell him to go to sleep so she could watch over him. And then she felt his lips on the crown of her head, and she was lost.

She stifled the sounds of her sobs in his chest, shamelessly curling her fingers around the hem of his shirt like a child, begging, even as he promised, him to stay for the night, uncertain as to whether she could handle another separation, no matter how brief.

"I'm sorry," she apologized fruitlessly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean...I'm alright. It's alright, you can just go to sleep, I'll be okay. I'm sorry..."

Scarlet curled feebly amongst the gold, though it greedily excepted warmth and comfort where it could. And Lyra found she couldn't make herself move, just repeating those same desperate apologies until exhaustion overwhelmed fear and she dropped away, her fingers still caught in his shirt.

--

Rora would have never guessed it was possible to be so delighted and so frightened by the same thing, but in the heavy silence that hung over the room, she was sure -- surer than she had ever been of anything in her entire life -- she'd set some sort of record.

She would never clearly remember the minutes that came before. When she tried, she would recall seconds passing like years, and minutes whizzing by in the blink of an eye. She remembered saying Mori's name, maybe once, or maybe over and over again. She remembered being too cold, too hot, too sore, too tired. She remembered thinking she was dreaming, and then thinking she was having a nightmare. She remembered thinking childbirth was impossible, that she would never be able to master it. She remembered thinking she would die before even one twin was born, thinking they'd suffocate and whither inside her. She remembered begging -- begging -- Siya and Mori both for water, for a towel, for a break. She remembered Siya saying her name, alternating between asking her to focus, then looking cautiously at Mori.

Mori was what she remembered most, even if her image of him was fragmented, hearing his voice in her ear, in her head. Feeling his hand on her brow, focusing on his voice when the pain or exhaustion seemed like it would overwhelm her.

There was movement and sound and noise from every corner of the universe, inside and out -- and then there was one noise. And then silence.

She was sure her heart must have been thudding in her ears as Mori circled back around to her size, a tiny bundle in his arms that hadn't been there before. She saw one tiny fist, a tuft of hair that was both light and dark at the same time. Rora sincerely thought she was going to pass out for a moment between exhaustion and awe, then fought it hard as Mori sat down beside her and she looked down at her daughter for the first time.

She was quiet. Wasn't she? Yes, she must have been, because Rora could hear her own ragged breathing in her ears and nothing else. If the team spoke amongst themselves, she had no indication of it. She stared down at the stunning set of mismatched eyes, her own eyes wide with...what? What word could she use?

There had never, she knew, in the history of time, been a more beautiful child born anywhere. She so longed to touch her, run gentle fingers over her hair, her cheeks, that little nose that made her heart flutter in the most insipid of ways. Rora gaped, glanced up at Mori with an expression equal parts ecstasy and shock -- how could they have made this beautiful creature? -- and then she felt her gaze drawn back down to her daughter, unable to look away even for a moment.

"She...she's..." Rora shook her head, hardly able to speak. She might have been crying. It was hard to tell. She couldn't look away from her daughter, so wanting to touch her, and yet terrified to, for how could anything so beautiful bear to be touched by something so comparatively insignificant.

Rora felt her breath hitch, and then she really was crying and laughing and without thinking, she put out a finger and brushed, ever so gently a fingertip down the little one's nose. She laughed again and drew back and planted a kiss on the newborn's forehead and then stifled a sob with her hand.

"I love her," she declared, rapt. "I love her."

Even when the next set of contractions started a moment later, Rora could not take her eyes from the child for several moments. The pain intensified quickly, jumping up through levels of agony and exhaustion, until Rora was forced to concentrate on delivering the second child. But not before a whispered promise to the first.

She ducked her head and drew two gentle fingertips over the child's swaddled body.

"It's okay, little one," she promised breathlessly. "It's alright. I'm only going to find your sister. Your lovely little sister."

 

[Kaisaan]

Rask felt the first child's birth like a pressure had gone off his chest and he breathed a little easier, gasping softly when he felt his life-force enter back into him, less than it had been before, but something at least. It was relieving and he closed his eyes as Lyra had done minutes before, simply holding her close, running his fingers through her hair as she'd done to him.

He wanted to sleep so badly, but he wouldn't, not yet.

Not until he knew both twins were born, both were safe. Then and only then would he allow himself to drift off, to join his mate in blissful oblivion. In the meantime, though, his green eyes opened again to see Asesee looking back at him, a question in her gaze that Rask gave a nod to.

The female Aavan's eyes filled with happy tears.

She was an aunt.

--

Mori could not have explained the feeling that went through him, continued to pervade his heart as he watched Rora with their daughter. Joy. Oh, there was so much joy, but it was more than that. It was like falling in love all over again, but not in the romantic sense like he'd done with Rora - though, watching her, there was that, too - but rather falling helplessly into devotion toward this little bundle in his arms, those sapphire and scarlet eyes that looked back at him with such solemn peace.

He knew his heart would never be the same.

And yet, it wasn't complete yet and when Rora spoke, Mori looked to her, taking her hand in his as she once more strove to bring life into the world.

It was quicker this time, her body already stretched, already primed and the second child slipped out in the same shield of gold light, the hue a bit brighter, thicker than it had been around the first twin, but Mori hardly registered that right now as he once more stood from Rora's side and approached where the wailing infant was being half-cleaned and wrapped up, umbilical cord cut before the smiling Whisperer handed her to her father.

Father.

It suddenly struck Mori as he looked down at the child he held in either arm that he was a father now. A father to two beautiful, perfect girls. It was with tears slipping down his face, his entire being overwhelmed in such a good way, that he came back to Rora, sat down beside the exhausted new mother and carefully let her see her second-born; a little thing who looked so different from her sister it was hard to tell they were related. But such was the way with Aavan and Cerebrae both.

Fuzzy, but thick white hair with the most subtle streaking of violet and dark purple crowned her head and stood out in stark contrast to her baby, reddened skin. Her eyes, though, they made Mori smile for he found himself looking into a mirror reflection of his own, as violet as the threads of Rora's mind.

"Tai'risNya." he breathed, knowing it to be true. Rora had wanted the one with his eyes to be named such and Mori now dubbed her so, looking to Rora and leaned down slightly to find her lips, to kiss her gently and rest his forehead to her own for just a moment, his mind bubbling with warmth and happiness he couldn't describe.

"I love you. You've given me children, you've given us a family. I love you so much, my little rainbow."