Tie It With a Ribbon

“I get that you want to read this, but the babies are important, too. My parents went through all the trouble to send for a Gryphe teller, and it wouldn’t be polite to keep her waiting.”

“But this is important, too. Can’t you just go without me?” I asked, refusing to remove my eyes from these pages.

“Alena, I’m not pregnant—thank the gods—and as such there wouldn’t be much use in just me going.” He took the book from my hands, ignoring my protests. “You’ve been reading this for a week. It’s long. I think a break will do you some good.” He took my notes from me as well, smiling as he kissed me softly.

“But I’m getting closer to understanding this! I can feel it,” I whined, groaning when he pulled me from the bed.

“I understand that, sweetheart,” he murmured, smiling when his gaze drifted to my bloated abdomen. “But those little guys are important, too, aren’t they?”

I smiled when he crouched down to kiss the fabric covering my stomach. He did that so often lately, and it always brought the broadest grin to his face.

“I love you,” he murmured, looking upwards to me.

“I love you, too.”

He stood up then, pulling me out the door. “So why is it taking so long?”

“It’s a complex language. I read it straight though, but I couldn’t make sense of it. Now I’m going back through and taking notes, making sure I understand each page completely. I don’t know how I can read it, and I think that makes it more difficult.”

He nodded, kissing my cheek chastely. “I just hope we’ll know what to do with this information once we have it.”

“Well, what exactly are we hoping to find this time?—with the babies I mean.”

He smiled. “Just checking up on them is all. And I’m hoping we can get an approximation. I know that birds in the wild only take around a month to give birth, and lions take three, so I’m wondering where we stand time-wise.”

“I’ve always hated the clock,” I muttered, sighing as his arm wrapped around me while we walked. “Will we be rushing to beat it forever?”

“Once things settle, I should hope life will settle as well. I think everything is so new right now, and that’s why it’s so difficult. But it has to get easier, it just has to.”

“Wishful thinking,” I murmured as we entered the Leonian infirmary, his arm the only thing keeping me from crumbling to pieces after everything that had happened.

“I will not mention it to anyone,” he promised, as if reading my mind.

“I feel terrible.”

He shook his head, but we could not speak anymore, we realized, as a woman entered the room. She smiled softly, nodding to us as she entered without needing to announce her presence.

“I can feel a certain…strain.” She looked to me, curiosity in her aged eyes. “Is everything alright?”

Zanzibar kissed me gently. “It’s been a trying past few weeks.”

“That being said, I hope we can have some good news today.” She smiled, motioning to the examining table.

Zanzibar joined me without me needing to say anything.

“My main concern is what my Queen has already told you,” she admitted, frowning. “Perhaps, if they are all one race and one form, this will not be so difficult… But the odds are against us, I’m afraid.”

“I suppose that means you’ve thought of complications already?”

His grip on my hand tightened, and I looked to him only to find that he was staring at my stomach while biting his lip.

She nodded, not keeping him in suspense. “I am not sure how this will work… You see, the gestation periods for your two people are different. Say you were to have a cub and an eaglet. The two would not be matured at the same time, but I do not know that Alena’s body would know to only have one child and not the other. If you had a perfect split, he would be born in about four months total. Alena was born after six months, and you, Zanzibar, were born in about three months, correct?”

“I was slightly premature, but yes… Are we any closer to finding out what they are? Isn’t there a chance that perhaps even an eaglet would have some Leonian blood, so it could be born at the same time as the cub?”

“That has been one of the topics of discussion lately, and that is very hopeful thinking. Nature should take care of things, and I cannot see how your union would go against nature—contrary to any popular belief in your kingdoms. Tell me, how have you been feeling lately, Alena?”

“Stir-crazy,” I admitted quickly, smiling coyly at my abrupt response.

“Would you elaborate, please?” she asked, sitting politely and listening earnestly.

“Well, just the other night I was running around at midnight asking Camille for books, and just yesterday we were searching the Nest high and low…but it had purpose. I suppose I’m just getting antsy when I think about the time we’re wasting doing nothing. I just need to occupy myself with something, I think.”

“Zanzibar, do you agree with her statement about becoming rather restless?”

“Oh, yes,” he blurted, smiling affectionately to me. I made a face at him, and he laughed heartily. “But it’s understandable. Surely you’ve heard all of our news lately?” She nodded, a regretful look playing across her features. “I’ve gone a little insane as well, though.”

She perked up, tilting her head slightly. “Insanity?”

He smiled. “I’ve lost my level head once upon a time, but lately it’s been becoming easier to act on such erratic thoughts. Take for instance William. Alena had to step in to pull me out of the state of pure dictatorship. Also, when word got out about our child… I did cause quite the scene.”

She looked to me then, her face dark all of a sudden. “Alena, can you relate?”

“Yes,” I choked, trying to hold myself. Zanzibar tried to help, but I could feel my body turning to collapsible stone. “If not worse, I have lost a hold of rational thought often—to the point of paranoia. But it is just stress, isn’t it?”

She tapped her lip, crossing her legs delicately. “I think the sooner these children are born, the better. While they are inside you, they rely so heavily on you for survival. And if anything should happen to you, I do not know that your people would ever allow an attempt at unity again.”

“I don’t understand. What do they need protected from?” Zanzibar asked quietly.

“Yourselves. If you lose rational judgment, you may turn on each other—” We both flinched “—that is to say if you have not already. You have cheated death many a time, and I fear that you are the last hope we have for ever resolving this. You must continue to cheat death, if only long enough for the children to be born.”

“Are you expecting us to die?” Zanzibar asked, smiling disbelievingly.

She watched us carefully then, her eyes set hard upon us. “Yes.”