by J. R Fox
Edhel chuckled and leaned in to kiss Wolfric softly, thinking to himself that it was the other way around. Every day he got to spend with Wolfric was one to be thankful for.
Chapter Five
Three months and two days to the day he’d fallen pregnant, Wolfric went into labor. He didn’t recognize it as such at first, thinking the pain was coming from the fact that his belly was now so huge as to be difficult to support, and then wondering if he was ill.
It wasn’t until he told Edhel about it, after Edhel expressed concern over his obvious discomfort, that they both realized what was going on.
Edhel had dithered between running for a wizard skilled with this kind of thing and not wanting to leave Wolfric, but had eventually been forced to admit that he was in over his head, and would need assistance.
Wolfric was left to lie in agony for what felt like hours—though was likely no more than a few minutes—while Edhel left to seek help.
He’d known he must be coming up on the time when he’d deliver the baby, but Wolfric hadn’t thought about what that would mean. He’d imagined Edhel would know what to do when the time came, but Edhel obviously hadn’t thought too much about it, either.
Fear gripped Wolfric every second Edhel was away; fear that the birth would go wrong, fear that the baby wouldn’t be okay, fear that he’d be a terrible father and his child would come to resent him, as well as the general, all-over fear that being in serious pain brought with it.
When Edhel finally came back with a much older wizard in tow—this one with the long, white beard that had been in fashion for older wizards for as long as Wolfric could remember, and the kind eyes of a man who’d dedicated his life to easing the suffering of others.
“Well,” the new wizard said. “This is a first for me.”
“I have notes.” Edhel grabbed the research he’d been doing, dropping half of the papers in his hurry. Wolfric tried to keep his uncomfortable shifting and occasional gasps of pain to a minimum, but he could see Edhel wincing with every contraction anyway. As time had gone on, they’d become more and more closely connected, so that Edhel could feel the slightest twinge Wolfric did, and Wolfric could do the same for Edhel.
Apparently the birth of the baby would end it all, and Wolfric was afraid of losing that, too. He’d never been one for believing in soulmates, but he’d found the closest thing he could ask for in Edhel, and he didn’t want to give any of that closeness up.
“Everything in my research says this should be just like a normal birth. With the obvious differences,” Edhel handed his notes over, and while the new wizard glanced at them, he set them aside almost immediately.
Instead, he approached Wolfric and smiled down at him. “Hello, my boy. My name is Ordithen, and I’ve delivered more babies than you’ve had hot meals. You’re in good hands.”
For whatever reason, Wolfric believed the older wizard. He nodded and reached out for Edhel, who climbed onto the bed beside him and took his hand.
“I want to offer you something, and you should feel free to say no. We can do this painlessly, if you like, but you won’t remember it. Many mothers—or fathers, in your case—choose this option, but some would prefer to experience bringing a child into the world. Especially their first. However, medically, I think it’s your best choice, since I have no worldly idea how this is going to turn out.”
Wolfric looked to Edhel for advice. The idea of doing this painlessly, even if he wouldn’t remember doing it, was appealing, but he didn’t want to do anything stupid. Edhel knew magic much better than he did.
“It’s safe,” Edhel assured him. “It’s Ordithen’s own technique. This is why I went to get him instead of anyone else. I want this to be as easy on you as possible.”
“Then yes,” Wolfric agreed. What good was having access to magic if you didn’t make use of it when you needed it most?
Ordithen smiled a warm, reassuring smile. “I will see you again when you have a beautiful new baby, then.”
Wolfric didn’t really believe that what Ordithen was saying was true until he came back into consciousness lying on his side, with Edhel sitting on the bed cradling a baby. He was sore from his chest to his thighs, and felt so heavy he wasn’t sure he’d ever manage to stand again.
None of that mattered once Edhel glanced up at him, smiling his mischievous little smile, and offering the baby to him. “He’s a beautiful little boy, and he’s perfect.”
With a great deal of effort and no small amount of pain, Wolfric managed to sit up and take the baby from Edhel. If he hadn’t believed in love at first sight before, he did now. The tiny human in his arms immediately took the whole of his heart, and Wolfric didn’t bother to put up any kind of fight.
Tears pricked at his eyes, the joy of finally having what he’d sacrificed so much for and gone through so much trouble to have too much for him to contain. Edhel shifted closer to him and put a hand on his shoulder, humming a song Wolfric didn’t know so softly that he wasn’t sure he was hearing it.
A few moments later, he realized it was a lullaby.
The thought of Edhel caring for their brand new son was enough to make him sob, unable to deal with everything he was feeling internally. Edhel rubbed his back, and hummed, and let Wolfric cry for as long as he needed to.
Wolfric was relieved to realize, once he was done crying, that he still very much loved Edhel. He also realized that he’d never said so.
“Edhel?” Wolfric turned his head to look at the other man, who immediately gave him all his attention. He appreciated the gesture, but Edhel needed a moment to rest, too, and Wolfric’s preferred scenario was the one where they both stayed in bed for several hours more, recovering from what had just come to pass. “I love you,” he said softly.
Edhel swallowed, the tears in his own eyes threatening to spill over. “The feeling’s mutual.” Edhel reached out to run his fingers through Wolfric’s hair. “And I love him, too. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect him.”
Wolfric shifted a little, Edhel’s comment having made him more sure that what he was feeling was accurate. “The bond hasn’t gone away, has it?”
“I don’t think so,” Edhel said quietly. “I… well… I wasn’t expecting this. I didn’t think…”
“Didn’t think?” Wolfric prompted.
“I imagined that your feelings for me wouldn’t run deep enough to trigger a true mating, but I’m very happy to be wrong. This is, umm. If the parents become attached enough to each other during the pregnancy, the bond is permanent. I didn’t mention the possibility because I didn’t think it would happen. I would have waited my entire life for you.”
If he hadn’t been completely out of happy tears, Wolfric would have started crying again. “That’s good. That’s a relief to hear.” Wolfric looked back down at the baby. “I was afraid that in gaining him, I’d lose you.”
“You won’t lose me.” Edhel kissed the top of Wolfric’s head. “I couldn’t imagine my life without you now. You or our son.”
Wolfric smiled at that, finally managing to relax. “What happened to Ordithen?”
“He said we should have some time alone. He’ll be back to check in tomorrow, but the baby is as healthy as a baby can be, and the birth was easy. I was only terrified for nine-tenths of it.”
Wolfric laughed, though he knew Edhel was completely serious. “I’m sure I appreciated your concern.”
“Not even a little bit, but you’re completely forgiven.” Edhel kissed his cheek. “You should sleep. I’ll take care of the baby.”
Sleep sounded like an excellent prospect, and Wolfric didn’t object when Edhel took possession of their new son and tucked Wolfric back in, leaving him to get a much-needed rest.
***
“If you could just admit that what you’ve done goes against everything the university stands for…” the head of the research division droned on, getting to what Edhel imagined was the halfway point of an hour-long lecture. It was an hour-long lecture that Edhel
didn’t care enough about the subject of to continue listening to.
“If I can just interrupt you,” Edhel said, visibly shocking the entire academic board. They weren’t used to being interrupted. There was practically no precedent for it. “What principles have I violated, here? Everything we stand for is progress and discovery, and I’ve made a discovery that could bring about genuine social progress and change the lives of hundreds of people. The fact that you find it distasteful seems irrelevant to reality, if you ask me.”
“No one asked you,” the head of the ethics committee said, as though Edhel had just suggested they all go swimming naked in a frozen lake.
“Then is my presence truly necessary? Because I have a new baby and I miss him. Whatever decision you’re going to make about my future here, if my input isn’t being asked for, I might as well go.”
On the inside, he was terrified, but he knew that standing up to these people was the right thing to do. His life was larger than his job at the university now. He had a family to take care of and a child to set an example for. The last thing he wanted was for his son to grow up thinking his father was a coward.
The head of the ethics committee didn’t have an immediate answer to that question, nor did anyone else on the board. Edhel suspected it had never actually been asked before.
People just did what the university told them to, and that was how it had always been done. By the time anyone got to the point of being in a position to change it, they were so used to the system that they couldn’t imagine doing so.
If these people hadn’t held as much power as they did, it would have been hilarious. As it was, Edhel didn’t intend to let them get away with it. If all he was good for was being the first person to stand up and ask why, he was going to do it. Perhaps it’d lay the groundwork for someone else to come along later and finish what he intended to start today. Perhaps that would be enough.
“Your input is unnecessary because you have done wrong,” the head of the research division finally responded, having taken much too long to come up with an answer. “And it is in your best interests to listen and correct your behavior.”
“Correct my behavior how?” Edhel raised an eyebrow. “By resigning, or would more drastic measures suit you better?”
Some of the men seated at the table would, given their own way, have Wolfric, Edhel, and the baby wiped from the records. None of them would be brave enough to actually do it, though.
“No one is suggesting more drastic measures, but we do all think you should resign,” the ethics committee head said. He looked as though this was the most exciting prospect of his life.
“That’s nice.” Edhel stood, tired of dealing with everyone present and not willing to draw out the charade any longer. The message was clear: quit, or you’re fired.
He intended to let them fire him.
“I’ll be going back to my family now. You can terminate my employment at your leisure. Send several guards if you’d like to eject me from my rooms forcibly, I have a lot of heavy furniture, and my husband is in no state to move it.”
Edhel walked away with butterflies in his stomach, but pride in his chest, to the disbelief of everyone else present. People simply didn’t wait to be fired. They resigned, like good, respectable wizards.
Edhel was tired of being a good, respectable wizard, and intended to bring his new techniques and everything he’d learned from them to the public, so anyone who wanted to could experience the joy he had in finally having a family. Wolfric was going to be so proud of him.
Chapter Six
“I’m so proud of you, Edhel,” Wolfric said, holding his hand out to the other man from the city side of the university gates. “Just a few more steps.”
Edhel sighed, shifted the weight of his bag over his shoulder, and took the last few steps to take Wolfric’s hand. Wolfric knew this was hard for him, but he also knew it was the right thing for all of them. Edhel had gotten himself stuck where he was, until it just didn’t suit him anymore. There was no point in him trying to cling to this place now that it didn’t want him, either.
“Well done.” Wolfric kissed Edhel softly as a reward, but Edhel took the chance while he was distracted to take the baby from him. Thankfully, the unreasonably fast growth that they’d experienced while Wolfric was pregnant had ceased, and according to Ordithen, the baby was perfectly healthy and normal.
Wolfric and Edhel had both been relieved to hear that, but Edhel had been especially smug, and included it in his response to his termination letter. Wolfric was proud of him for that, too. He hadn’t allowed himself to be told he was wrong when all evidence pointed to the opposite.
“I just need to either carry or be carried right now,” Edhel said, rocking the baby gently. “This is hard for me.”
“I know.” Wolfric put an arm around his waist, pulling him to his side. “You’ve protected and cared for me so much lately. I think I can manage a little in return.”
Edhel relaxed once he was touching both Wolfric and the baby, so Wolfric decided to leave the state of affairs as they were. This time, when people stared at them, Wolfric only felt further pride that the world could see the perfect little family he’d managed to make for himself.
They walked in silence toward an inn Wolfric had stayed in a few times during his time in the city, when life in the barracks had gotten too loud for him. He knew it to be a place where they’d be welcome, hence the choice.
“He still needs a name, you know,” Edhel said after a few moments. “We can’t call him ‘the baby’ forever.”
“It’s perfectly descriptive.” Wolfric looked down at the baby in Edhel’s arms, which seemed to have gotten all their best features. Wolfric’s nose before it had been broken, Edhel’s high, delicate cheekbones, the slight point to the tops of the ears that came with Edhel’s lineage, though Wolfric had never asked, and Edhel had never admitted it.
People were often strange about elves, so Wolfric could see why. He’d ask about it one day, if only for the sake of their son knowing where he came from.
“If you don’t do it, I will, and you know it’ll stick,” Edhel said. Wolfric wasn’t sure how serious he was, but if Edhel wanted to name the baby—after a week of insisting that Wolfric had to do it—then Wolfric was more than happy for him to do so.
“I’d like you to, actually,” Wolfric said, continuing his thought out loud. “It’s your baby as much as mine, and I don’t have anyone to name him after.”
Edhel made a sympathetic noise and leaned closer to Wolfric’s side. “He'll have us, and so will his children. You're stuck with me.”
“Not the worst person to be stuck with.” Wolfric laughed. “So, go on. I'm waiting to hear what we're calling our son.”
“I'd like to call him Branin, if you don't mind. I lost a baby brother called that, just before I left to come here. Maybe it's too morbid?”
“I don't think so.” Wolfric hugged Edhel a little closer. “A second chance for someone of that name to have a good life. Branin it is.”
“Thank you,” Edhel said softly. “He is going to have a good life. Whatever it takes.”
Wolfric hummed in agreement, stopping outside the inn he’d been looking for. “Well, this isn't much, but it's a start. A start where neither of us is beholden to our pasts.”
Branin cooed softly as he looked up at the place, which Wolfric took as a good omen. It wasn't going to be permanent, but it was their best option until they worked out what they wanted to do going forward.
“I want to learn more about medical magic,” Edhel said as he followed Wolfric inside. “Theoretical life and death stuff is fine, but it's not practical. I should have been able to help you, and I want to be able to help our son.”
“I will support you in whatever you choose, but I won't pretend to understand the distinction. You're welcome to explain it to me once we have a room, though.”
“I have a different idea about what I'd like to do to you once we have a room.” Edhel
beamed at Wolfric. “Since the baby's just about ready to sleep.”
“He needs to be fed first, but then I'm all yours.” Neither of them had been sure if Wolfric would be able to breastfeed, but as it turned out, he could, and he enjoyed it. It was nice to feel wholly responsible for his child, and Ordithen had told him it would encourage a stronger bond between them.
Wolfric exchanged money and a promise to keep the baby as quiet as possible for a room key, and lead Edhel up the stairs to begin their new life.
***
By the time Branin was crawling, business was picking up for Edhel to the point where he realized he’d need to train an assistant soon if he ever wanted to see his family again. Ordithen had agreed to train him in his own area of magic so that his new process could be put to use for those who wanted it.
Edhel had managed to refine it so the worst of the side-effects were gone, and it became simply a mechanical means to allowing people who would never have been able to raise a family before to become fathers. He’d even managed to slow down the unusually fast development to a total of six months instead of three, but his first few patients were already coming in to show off their new babies and thank Edhel.
Wolfric was talking about training as a midwife, to make their lives easier and take some of the load off Edhel. He’d never be able to perform any kind of magic, but there were plenty of non-magical things to do.
A year earlier, Edhel wouldn’t have believed that he’d be running anything like this. He wouldn’t have believed he’d have a husband or a child, either. None of what had happened over the past nine months or so made any sense, but he wouldn’t have changed anything if he had the chance to go back and do it—which, considering what some of his colleagues were talking about in their latest research, wasn’t as impossible as was commonly believed.
All the same, by the time he closed up shop for the day, he was consistently exhausted. He knew that the steady stream of customers would slow down eventually, and in the meantime they were putting away enough money to go and buy a farm for Branin to grow up on, but for the moment, he was just tired, and he looked forward to locking the door and going upstairs to his family.
