Jim Butcher - First Lord's Fury

“Yes?” Kitai asked.

“That since the woman chooses the contest, she has ample opportunity to reject her suitor. If she doesn’t care for him, she simply selects a contest at which he is unlikely to prevail. Say, a young woman of Horse doesn’t care for the attentions of a Wolf suitor, she challenges him to a horseback race.”

Kitai’s eyes danced, but her tone and expression were both serious. “The One witnesses the contest. The Marat most worthy prevails. This is known, Aleran.”

“Of course,” Tavi said. “I doubt that The One cares for his children to be forced to mate with those whom they do not desire.”

“Many young Marat males would disagree with you quite loudly. But in this, you are very nearly as wise as a Marat woman,” Kitai said solemnly. “Not quite. But very nearly.”

“I seem to recall a trial by contest between a certain beautiful young Marat woman and a foolish Aleran youth. It was quite a number of years ago, and the trial was held in the Wax Forest near the Calderon Valley. Dimly though I recall such an ancient time, I seem to remember that the young man was victorious.”

Kitai opened her mouth to reply hotly, then seemed to think better of it. She let out a rueful chuckle. “Only because the young woman willed it so.”

“How is that any different from any other young Marat woman who wishes to accept a young man as a mate?”

Kitai arched an eyebrow at him. “It…” She tilted her head. “It… is not.”

“Well, then,” he said. “According to the laws and customs of your people, for which I have the deepest respect, we have been married for a number of years. The child is perfectly legitimate.”

Kitai narrowed her eyes, and a smile haunted her lips. “We are not wed. That was not a proper mating trial.”

“Why not?” Tavi asked.

“Because it was not intended as such!” Kitai said.

Tavi waved a hand airily. “Intentions count for far less than the consequences of the actions born from them. You are my wife.”

“I think not ,” Kitai said.

“I know,” Tavi said solemnly. “But in this, you are less wise than an Aleran male. Still, one must tolerate occasional fits of irrational passion from one’s wife. So in your judgment, what needs to happen to make this a proper mating?”

“A proper challenge!” she replied. “You cannot dare think that…” Her voice trailed off, and she said, “Oh.”

Tavi arched an eyebrow at her this time and waited.

“You…” She looked down. “You truly think the child is… that this is all right?”

“Why shouldn’t it be?” he replied quietly. He dropped the playful, bantering tone. “Kitai, what does it matter what excuse we use to accept the child? So long as the child is welcomed and loved? Isn’t that the important thing?”

“Yes,” she said simply. She closed her eyes, and said, “Thank you, Aleran.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for,” he said. Then he touched her chin and lifted her eyes to his. “If our child is to be born, Kitai,” he said, in little more than a whisper, “I’ve got to do everything in my power to protect it. I’ve got to. I can’t do anything else. It is who I am. Do you understand?”

“I understand that you mean to leave me behind,” she said softly. “To go into this war alone.”

“I must,” he said. “Kitai, it would kill me if I lost you. But now, it would kill someone else, too.”

She shook her head slowly, never blinking. “I will not stay behind, Aleran.”

“ Why not?”

She was quiet for a moment, thinking. Then she said, “Do you remember when I said that the vord could do nothing to us?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Do you know why I said it?”

“No,” he said.

She put her hands on his face, and whispered, “Death is nothing to me, chala . Not if we are together. Death is not to be feared.” She leaned forward and kissed his mouth, very gently. Then she rested her forehead against his. “Being taken from one another. That terrifies me. It terrifies me. I will go to any wasted wilderness, to any horrible city, into any nightmare to keep you at my side, chala , and never flinch. I never have. But do not ask me to leave you. To send you into danger alone. That, I cannot do. That is who I am. And that is why I did not tell you. Because I knew who you were.”

Tavi inhaled slowly, understanding. “Because both of us can’t be true to ourselves. Someone has to change.”

“How can we stay together in the face of that?” she asked. There was something desperate in the quiet words. “How can you respect me if I abandon my beliefs? How can I respect you if you abandon yours?”

“And how could either of us respect ourselves,” Tavi said.

“Yes.”

Tavi took a slow breath. Neither spoke for a long time. The noise of the camp around them was growing louder as it began to get ready for the day’s march.

“I don’t know what to do,” Tavi said. “Yet. But there’s time. I’ll think on it.”

“I’ve had weeks,” Kitai said. “I haven’t thought of anything.”

“It’ll take us another two days, maybe more, to reach Calderon. There’s time.”

Kitai closed her eyes and shook her head. More tears fell. Tavi could feel a nauseating fear in her he had never felt from her before.

“I’ll think of something,” he said gently. “Take off the armor.”

She hesitated.

“It’s all right,” he said. “Take it off.”

She did, very slowly. Tavi helped her unbuckle the vest. He slid it from her. Then he grasped the hem of her shirt and lifted it slowly. With his hands, he guided her lovingly down onto the bedroll again.

Then, very gently, as if he might shatter her to so many chips of ice if he moved without utmost caution, he laid his hand over her belly, spreading his fingertips over her pale skin until his palm rested against her. The child was too small yet to show to the eye. But he closed his eyes and once more could feel the small, contented presence there, within Kitai’s own quiet, controlled terror.

“Can you feel? Have you tried?” he asked her.

“I can’t,” she said, her voice quietly miserable. “I overheard some midwives talking. They said that you can’t sense the baby with furycraft when it’s in your own body. It’s too much like you. And the child is too little to have moved in me yet.”

“Give me your hand.”

Tavi took Kitai’s hand and intertwined her fingers with his. He focused, and his sense of her presence suddenly leapt into something far more vibrant and detailed than simple proximity could accomplish alone. He concentrated on her, then upon the little presence, sharing its warmth and peace with Kitai.

Her green eyes went very wide. “Oh,” she said. Her eyes filled with tears. “Oh, chala .” She suddenly broke into a smile, still weeping, and let out a quiet little laugh. “Oh, that’s beautiful.”

Tavi smiled at her and leaned down to kiss her very gently.

The three of them stayed like that, in the quiet, just for a little longer, treasuring that moment. Neither of them said it, but they both knew. Such moments were swiftly growing rarer and rarer.

And, in the next few days, they might even become extinct.

Bernard rode into the command center a few yards ahead of Amara and stopped to look slowly around him. Amara rode up beside her husband, and said nothing.

“Technically,” he said, “the old place is still Isanaholt. Elder Frederic hasn’t taken his oath yet.”

Amara smiled at him. “I still think of it as Bernardholt.”

Her husband shook his head. “I wasn’t ever really comfortable with that name. Me-holt. Sounded ridiculous.”