Valhorek put a cloth over her nose and mouth and she summarily passed out, her head reeling from the fumes. Her awareness seemed to separate from her body and she was floating, her vision growing blurry and vague. She could have been mistaken, but the elf swore she saw a man, a very tall and handsome blonde man, standing in the corner.
He wore gold armor and leather sandals with gems studding the leatherworking. His skin was deeply tanned a beautiful golden bronze, his hair pure yellow, and his eyes bright and blue. Khallryn didn't know who he was, but he was so handsome! He carried a helm under his arm, also of gold and intricately worked with designs and glyphs the likes of which she could not read. A proud and fantastic fan of plumage was fixed at the top, the feathers iridescent green and purple and teal. He smiled at her and she felt protected, and Khallryn smiled back as she went under.
As soon as she had spotted the man the pain was gone, replaced by a soothing warmth and somehow she knew without a shadow of a doubt the tall and handsome warrior was responsible for her surcease from the pain. His voice entered her mind as she floated from her body. Rest now. No matter what happens you are safe under my hand. You have served as the Temple for my own blood and for that you have my eternal gratitude...and my protection.
And then her mind turned from the void she floated in, where the warmth suffused her as she basked in the Warrior's grace, and she began to dream of home.
Khallryn dreamed of the old days, the blessed days when she and her older sister would sneak out of the palace and romp in the countryside, mingling with the local riffraff and gambling and drinking all the night through...
But like all dreams, this one too ended and returned her to the Medieval Tavern. Her eyes opened only with great effort and Khallryn had to shake her head to leave off the lingering effects of the ether. Shadow perked his ears when he heard her stir, and then with a half-jump put his huge forepaws on the side of her bed. He kissed her with his warm tongue and she gave him a weak smile.
"Hey there, Shadow puppy," she said softly. "Are my babies safe and sound?" He gibbered quietly and then looked past her at the two tiny, tiny infants laying on the cot sidled up next to her. Even at that first glance, Khallryn was in love. They were as like as like, and so little! Elven babies were smaller than human babies and not as stocky, and these two seemed to follow suit. But even her babies were smaller than a normal elven infant, because she had carried twins. While the norm was just under five pounds, she figured hers were no more than three.
Khallryn's son furrowed tiny brows in his sleep and puckered, making sucking noises, but her daughter lay wide awake and staring at her with wide azure eyes. She had stuck her tiny fist in her mouth and was sucking on it, staring all the while at her mother and the huge wolf beside her. Khallryn moved to lift the small baby into her arms but the movement reawakened the ache in her belly. Suddenly she was reminded of everything that had transpired, the invasion of the Tavern and the fighting going on right outside the hospice door as she had labored to bring those two precious lives into the world. But for some reason, no matter how vividly she recalled Valhorek's distress at the danger their births was causing all three of them, as soon as she took one look at her babies she couldn't for the life of her recall the pain. All that was left was the dullest of aches and when she lifted the sheets to see herself stitched up...there wasn't anything. Perfectly smooth skin, as had always been. Sure, her stomach was not as taut and concave as before---she had just given birth!---but she knew in a matter of weeks she would be back to her old lithe self. Khallryn smiled to herself, knowing somehow that it was the Warrior's gift to her, to leave her body without scar.
But she was still weak and it would be some time before she could get her strength up again. But she could still lift her daughter! The baby didn't cry as she was moved, but continued to gaze up at Khallryn with wide blue eyes. Just like Ylith, she recalled, having never for a day forgotten her sister. "You I would name Lialla, after my sister," she whispered, "but we shall see if your father would have it, little one." Then she smiled, looking down at her sleeping son. "Your brother I would have be Goraeulf, Gorath for short."
The baby reached out the tiny hand and grabbed at Khallryn's finger. Her entire fist barely grasped the tip of her finger! With the proud and comparative eye all mothers had, Khallryn began comparing her children to both elven and human babies she had seen. Her daughter was perfect, completely elven down to the long graceful limbs and delicate bone structure, and little lobeless, upswept ears. Looking at her son, Khallryn noticed that he was noticeably darker of hair, with a touch of Marz's bronze to his skin, and he was a little thicker than his sister but nowhere near as stocky as human babies, for which Khallryn was grateful. And his ears were markedly different. While they still were adorable little pointed ears, they were lobed. It would take some getting used to, but Khallryn knew that as soon as she had grown accustomed to them, her son's ears would probably be her favorite feature of him.
Just then there was a commotion at the door and Marz, Corum, and Yorik came in and disturbed her peace. Khallryn positively beamed at him, but as she recalled he had completely disappeared while she labored to give birth to his children, the smile faltered slightly. Suddenly she didn't know what to think of her children's father. Where had he been when she had most needed him?
And yet, ever understated as was the elven way, she simply held out her daughter, who had turned those big, luminous blue eyes on her father curiously, and said, "Hey there, Daddy." Inwardly she wondered if Marz would be able to attune his senses to his children's sixth sense, which she had connected with the moment they had become aware inside her womb. But she wouldn't say anything just yet.
Marz's dark eyes seemed to sparkle and a wide smile broke out on his face when he saw the tiny babies huddled in Khallryn's lap. "Hello beautiful," he said, walking to the bed and placing a kiss on the elf's forehead before turning his attention back to the infants.
"And where were you while I was having your children?" she asked, noticing his black eye, swollen jaw and bloodstained clothes.
"I was out shopping with Corum, sweetheart," he replied nonchalantly, as he scooped up both babies in his arms easily. "I bought all kinds of clothes and gifts for you and the kids. They should be delivered sometime soon."
Marz turned away from the bed and rushed to Corum. "Check this out," he said, showing off the tiny infants to his friend. "This is my daughter, Dawn and my son, Dusk."
Khallryn cleared her throat loudly, drawing his attention back to her. "Their names are Lialla and Goraeulf," she corrected him.
A look of shock crossed Marz's face as he made his way back to the bed and sat down beside the beautiful elf. "What kinda raking names are those? I can't even pronounce them."
Both babies cooed and waved their tiny fingers in the air as if trying to catch the little specks of dust that floated before them. Corum watched in awe as a small fresco suddenly floated off the nail that held it to the wall and came to rest on a nearby bed. He glanced at Marz and Khallryn to see their reaction to the sight but realized they were too busy staring at one another and hadn't even seen the spectacle.
"I like Dusk and Dawn," Marz said. "Nice and short and easy to remember!" The babies made a sound that resembled musical laughter. "See, even they like my names better!"
Khallryn narrowed her eyes at the handsome rogue before relieving him of the baby girl. "This is Lialla and that is Goraeulf!"
Marz rolled his eyes then looked down upon his son. "Don't worry kid," he said, stroking the baby's cheek. "No son of mine is going to have such a sissy name!"
He locked his eyes with Khallryn's once again as Corum frowned at the fresco that rose above the bed in the far corner and floated back to the nail on the wall.
"How about Blaze and Destiny or Midnight and Crystal or Shade and Flame?" Marz asked, never flinching from the heated look he saw in the elf's eyes. "But I still like Dusk and Dawn best and I think they do too!"
"Sissy name!" Khallryn shot, indignant. "Marz, those are very fine elven names of distinction. And Goraeulf is one of Telaria's greatest Heroes of the Nation! It was from his brood that the Family of Zetaeli rose up, and I would have my son carry that same honor in his name. Sissy indeed. Goraeulf was the greatest warrior that ever lived!"
Marz made a face and then picked up his son. Brown eyes with flecks of hazel and gold regarded him solemnly, and the thief grinned at his son. "You'd rather be Dusk, wouldn't you, my boy? Nothing stupid like Goraeulf," he said in a mocking tone.
"The short of his name would be Gorath," Khallryn retorted somewhat injured, "nice and short and easy for even you to remember, so it should make you happy."
He shrugged. "I still think he should have a name the urchins won't beat him up for, like Blaze or Midnight or Flame. Noone would beat him up with a name like that, especially when they realize who his father is!" Marz kind of puffed his chest at this and Khallryn couldn't help but laugh. He was just so proud to be a daddy.
"They are not stupid names," Khallryn said.
"Yes they are!" he shot back, and then something thunked him in the back of the head. The baby in his arms cooed, and his sister kicked up her feet. "What the rake---?" Marz looked behind him. The fresco that had been hanging on the wall was now on the bed, obviously the object that had hit him. Glaring at Corum, who was standing on the opposite side of the bed obviously nowhere near the wall to have thrown it, Marz said, "Watch it, you dumbarse! You nearly knocked my brains out!"
"If you had any," Khallryn said, tongue-in-cheek.
"I didn't throw it!" Corum cried indignantly. "Yorik didn't, either!"
"Well if you didn't, then who did? The babies?" Marz scoffed at that. Bouncing his son on his knee gently, he sweetened his tone and said, "You don't have a raking magic bone in your body, huh Dusk?"
"Gorath," Khallryn corrected. "And watch your mouth around them."
"Dusk!"
"Gorath! I carried him, I delivered him, and so I name him!" Khallryn took Gorath from Marz. "Tell your father, Gorath, that you like your name just fine." He drooled and waved his little hands in her face. "And tell him your sister is Lialla, after my sister." Gorath stuck his fist in his mouth and sucked noisily on it.
"See?" Marz said. "He's telling you to shove it." Khallryn glared at him, unamused at his snide humor, and he only grinned at her. The fresco smacked him on the back of the head again and he turned around, frowning at Corum again. "Hey!"
In its purest sense, nicknaming is an elitist ritual practiced by those who cherish hierarchy. For preppies it's a smoke signal that allows Bunny to tell Pooky that they belong to the same tribe, while among the good ole boys it serves the cause of masculine dominance by identifying Bear and Wrecker as Alpha males.
Corum nodded his head as he looked up and heard Marz yell his name. "What?"
"I told you, you moron," Marz answered, "to quit hitting me in the head or I'll give you a fat lip."
"I don't know what your problem is Marz," Corum stated. "Those pictures have been floating around here for awhile."
"You know," Marz stated, "Maybe you're the one that needs some cement poured in your ears. Seems like you lost something along the way. Anyway, I don't mind that Lialla name, but that Gorzondola name for the boy is terrible."
"Isn't that some sort of smelly cheese?" Corum asked.
"See," Marz retorted, "even Corum thinks it's a stupid name. I'm not going to have my son running around with a cheesy name."
Name? A name? Perhaps something respectful such as Samson and Delilah. Perhaps something flavorful such as Lucy and Dezi? How about antiquated; Ralph and Alice? Maybe something ancestral, such as Adam and Eve. Perchance something antiquated, such as Fred and Wilma. How about something mysterious, such as Lois and Clark? Or maybe something totally different, Beavis and Butthead.
Corum listened to the names Yorik announced and shook his head. "What kind of names are those? Maybe something like Spike and Spikette would be more appropriate."
Marz instantly turned around. "What did you say?"
"Uh Caesar and Cleopatra?" Corum answer.
"No you idiot," Marz expressed. "The name you just mentioned."
Corum had to stop and try and remember what he had just said. "Fred and Wilma? Lucy and Dezi? Adam and Eve?"
"Look you dork," Marz said. "If you don't remember the name you just said I'm gonna strangle you."
"You mean Spike and Spikette?" Corum asked.
Marz's eyes opened in recognition. "YES! That's it." He turned to Khally and spoke. "See, we need outside help in this matter. Leave it to Corum to think of something suitable for the kids. Spike and Spikette. I like it. And anyway, you need something that'll roll right off of your mouth when you say the kid's name."
Khallryn raised her eyebrows and flatly stated, "You mean like my fist hitting your mouth?"
"Yeah, whatever," Marz answered. "It's gotta have a punch to it. Something like.. .like Stiletto and Machete. What do you think, Corum?"
Corum thought about the name and started to nod his head. "Hey, what about something like Tur and Alura? Or possibly something like Fuman and Chu?"
"Yeah," Marz answered back. "You need tough names so that people will know you're tough and not a wimp. I still like the Spike and Spikette name, Corum. Good work."
"Cool," Corum answered as he looked at Khallryn's face which had become very red. "Uh, maybe I better call Val. Looks like you're getting a fever."
"I am not getting a fever, you weenie!" Khallryn spat. "And my children are not going to be named Spike and Spikette, or Stilletto and Machete or Fuman and Chu or any other of those completely idiotic names! And tell Yorik to shut the rake up with that laughing!"
"Hey, watch your mouth!" Marz interrupted, grinning to himself. He and Corum laughed. Khallryn smouldered.
"Fine," she said softly, suddenly turning very calm. "You may call our son Dusk, if it pleases you. But Lialla will not answer to any of those lame words Corum spit up for us." And if our son just 'happens' to answer to Gorath all the better. Khallryn smiled to herself. Mothers gave their sons nicknames all the time out of affection, and so much the better if Marz didn't know.
Suddenly Dusk began getting fussy and Marz was so quick to hand him over to Khallryn that it was almost comical. "I didn't do anything!" he said.
Khallryn made an impatient face at him and said, "He's hungry, that's what. And if he's like you I'll be here for a while with him. If you'll excuse me?" she asked the two gentlemen and skulled staff as she began to unfasten her tunic.
Marz stared at her chest with an anticipating grin and suddenly his eyes widened. "Whoa, Khally! When did they get so huge?"
She smacked him.
After the gorgeous elf smacked him, Marz gave her a lopsided grin. "I love it when you play rough, Khally," he said with a wink. He gave Dusk and Lialla a quick peck on their cheeks then moved in close to administer a deep, enticing kiss to Khallryn. Her closeness aroused him immediately as always and he wondered how long she would need to recover from giving birth before they could make love again.
When their lips parted, he stared deeply into her eyes and ran a fingertip down the length of her beautiful face. "Me and Corum will leave you alone to feed the babies," he whispered. "I don't want that turd and Yorik ogling your breasts anyway. It's bad enough that they still have the hots for your hair!"
Marz gave her another long kiss before rising from the bed. "We'll be in the kitchen, swiping a free meal. I'll come back here for desert later."
Khallryn rolled her eyes at the impetuous rogue then turned her attention to her children who fussed more, demanding to be fed.
"Come on, Corum," Marz quipped. He led his friend from the hospice to the kitchen where Chang Po and a few of the resident urchins Marz had brought here off the streets to live greeted them.
"Aren't you suppose to see Val about your arm?" Corum asked, as they took a seat at the table.
"I'll do that after we eat." Marz lifted six year old Lonnie into his lap and she giggled when he tickled her. "I have a surprise coming for you and the other urchins," he whispered in her ear.
"More toys?" she asked, excitedly.
"You'll see when it gets here," he teased. "And later on I'm going to introduce you to two very special babies that you can help take care of and play with."
Lonnie clapped her hands and bounced up and down in his lap. "Me and Ginnis love playing with real babies. They're a lot more fun than rag dolls!"
Marz laughed and called out for Chang to bring him and Corum plates of food and a pitcher of fresh apple juice.