by /nyx. » Thu Jan 27, 2022 9:55 am
Owner: /nyx.
Cat Name: Layne
Prompt:
Layne was terrified. Absolutely frozen, shocked, paws-down, voice-stuck-in-throat terrified.
“I can’t be,” she practically begged at Kraft. Her heart felt as if it would jump from her chest. “No — no, you must be wrong.”
The other feline’s expression softened, but they replied, “I’ve been doing this for seasons, Laine. I can sense the life inside of you, and you can too. Be proud: your family will take care of you; you have nothing to fear.”
But that wasn’t true! Layne’s rebellious heart wrangled. Speir didn’t know, faeries and dragons, she carried the kits of a stranger and her mate didn’t know. Surely, Spear would kill her for this. When it came to injustice, Spear’s fury knew no bounds, and what more was injustice than learning that one’s mate was unfaithful?
Not to give away her secret, Layne dipped her head, thanked Kraft for his service, and fled from the healer’s haunt.
—
After a few more days of sitting on the fence, Layne dared to approach her beloved mate on the matter. Speir beamed upon spying her, straightaway enveloping Layne in a soft, pelt-brushing, feline-style hug.
“Layne,” Speir greeted, “I’ve not seen you in ages! Is Gaile working you too hard? Just say the word and I’ll tell our esteemed leader to cut you some slack; faeries know you deserve it.”
Layne laughed; oh, how she had missed Speir’s attitude! Only, the mirth flowed out of her upon remembering what she came to do. Layne pulled out of the embrace, put a good tail-length between them just in case.
“Layne?” Speir queried, expression blinking to concern-hurt.
“I, uh,” Layne stumbled. Her gaze flashed down to Spear’s paws, the pink campions in the distance, then back to Speir’s eyes. She blurted, “Speir, I, kits — I’m carrying.”
Spear paused, visibly untangling the jumble of words, digesting that information. “Truly?” she prompted after what seemed like forever. It took all of Layne’s power to remain still.
“Yes.”
“With whom?”
“Koi.”
For a moment, Lain believed that Spear would slice her throat, that she was going to die. The molly held her breath as Spear clenched her jaws together, batting down her fondness as Spear’s powerful muscles rippled. This was not the time. Spear despised Koi, a foolish youth who could not keep his paws to himself. Laine believed that she could resist, long ago, but apparently not.
And then, Spear laughed. A disarming, genuine laugh, one that rendered Laine defenseless as Speir closed the distance, leaning into Lain once more. “Ours,” she purred, “Dragons and faeries, you’re carrying and they will be ours.”
Laine accepted the warmth with a smile, and yet: “I don’t understand. You’re not… upset?”
Speir leveled her with a stern look. “Did he take you without consent?”
“Well, no,” Laine muttered, thanking that her fur hid the flush of embarrassment.
“And do you want these kits?”
“I would not dare desert them!”
“Then no, I am not upset,” Speir replied, adoring. “Rather, I cannot believe… your kits, my kits… and they are truly ours.”
It was at that moment that Laine recalled an important bit of information. “Great Drakon, you look so dissimilar that I forget that Koi is your litter-brother.” If Laine thought she was flustered earlier, now she was paws-down mortified.
That stirred another Speir into another round of laughter, and with her main worries gone, Laine eventually joined in glee. It would take moons, years for her to look back and realize that this day was the happiest in her life.
—
— homophones:
laine, a type woolen cloth; lain, past participle of lie; layne (chiefly Scottish), to refrain from telling (information)
