Gilrack had more fun than he thought he would watching Jo make herself clothes simply by tying long shawls of blue and purple silk about her. He'd never had the chance to see her adorn in such finery and it pleased him and his instincts, even if it wasn't him who provided these silks. She was able to cover as much skin as she pleased, though, as it was a sight meant only for him. Perhaps the divine beings were onto something with clothes.
Then she went straight back to her eggs, which made him smile. Such a sweet little mother. Divine being she may be, but her motherly instincts were of the best of his kind.
He held their young while she found herself a comfy spot, then handed them to her to place as she pleased. Once she was comfortable, he eyed her wet hair and hesitated. He'd made sure to comb it out, but there was something more.
"I wish to fetch something from my den. Will you be okay here?" he asked.
"You said only those who could fly could come in, right?" he asked.
"Only those who can fly and their mates are allowed," he said, hesitantly. "And it is very difficult for any other. Walls very smooth."
"Then I should be fine." She pulled a blanket over her shoulders, eyelashes fluttering. "Jeeze, why am I always so tired?"
"Eggs took from Jo's body to grow. Your body needs to rebuild." He tried to ignore the little string of guilt. He had done his best, there was nothing he could do about it now.
"Hmm. Okay." She closed her eyes.
He soaked in her small, beautiful form curled under silks and furs with their eggs hidden against her belly and took a moment to purr. He'd be quick. Then he'd come back with what had been hers since the night of their mating: his long awaited betrothal gift. It was something every decent male worked on since they were children.
His instincts, though finally tended to, still weakly protested and burned as he let the curtains fall behind him. He insisted to them that he'd be quick and they quieted. Then he stepped off the platform and let himself drift down on wings he never thought he'd have.
At the end of the tunnel, past the tower of light stones, the darker form of his mother upon her throne appeared. The group who had come while he had been introducing Jolene had returned and formed a semi-circle to speak their parts in turn. Their clicks bounced along the walls and he had a sudden, irrational urge to land on them to shut them up, in the case their noise reached his beloved and disturbed her rest.
Instead, however, he took to the far side of the royal hall, hoping to be as covert as possible. He wasn't in the mood to visit.
However, even if the talking hadn't suddenly gone quiet, his mother's baleful caw pierced across the expanse like a knife.
"Where are you going?"
He groaned. It was like he was a youngling all over again.
"Don't you have business to attend to?" he grumbled, not caring if she couldn't hear.
But of course she could. "Precisely, which is why you should make it quick."
"I'm getting something for Jo."
"I'll get one of your fathers. He can get it, you should stay with her, she just gave birth."
"Mother, are you her mate or am I?"
She clacked her teeth hard, making the forgotten audience flinch.
He hated this. She was always like this, airing their life for everyone to see, not caring what she interrupted to get her foot down on a child. His younger siblings had been squirming around the throne during the visit of envoys and she'd just glared if anyone said anything about how inappropriate it was to bring younglings to such a meeting. She'd make a world war stop in its place so she could catch an errant offspring by the neck before they could so much as a steal sun fruit. It made many argue for the old ways when females weren't allowed to be chief.
"It's from my den," he said.
"Which won't be yours for much longer, since you had the bad taste to dig it in that pit, so you might as well send a father."
That pit had been especially quiet and close to the earth fires, so it was always warm, which he happened to like, unlike his cold blooded mother.
The idea of one of his mother's three mates taking up his dowry made him growl.
"Just let me do this."
She huffed and clacked her teeth again. "Fine. But I'm sending your sire up. He needs to meet your mate."
"She's resting! Don't disturb her!"
"Fine, he'll wait outside the curtain. Disrespectful child, leaving your mate unattended."
He clamped his mouth as tight as it would go to stop himself from responding to that. It was perfectly normal for the male to leave his female with their clutch so he could provide food for her and whatever other necessities. But, being raised a royal and then raised to cheiftess, his mother had skewed views of how things should be done. Perish the thought she should do it any other way than her own.
Even so, he didn't need any more reason to hurry and all but sprinted to the bay, startling the guards on the other side.
"Gilrack?"
"Is something wrong?"
"Just in a hurry," he said quickly when they showed signs of following. Ugh, he hated that too. He thought he'd been rid of them when he'd come of age, but now that he had wings...
He dove off the bay as he'd seen his mother do many times before. The air, rich with the scent of life, billowed past him, stroking him till he flung open his wings and caught it. For the first time he regretted building a den so far from his mother's, but at the time it had been his desperate desire to get as much freedom as possible.
The trip would have taken hours by foot, even by transportation, but by air he found the space eaten in mere minutes. The lights of other dens became thin till he came to the tunnels at the very edge of the city expanse. He found his den right away and wriggled into the small opening that used to be plenty big before his body had grown stiff and larger.
It smelled musty and abandoned inside and a fine layer of dirt covered everything, but he found his dowry box right away, safe and clean beneath his nest. He had few possessions, mainly weapons and tools, most of which could be replaced so he quickly grabbed up the ones that couldn't, like his obsidian fillet knife made for him by his father (he would only ever recognize his sire as his father, despite his mother's persistence in doing otherwise). It was a beautiful thing with a carefully carved and wrapped handle and a blade that made finer cuts than any other. It would help him serve the finest meats to his Jo.
He was just wriggling out from his den for the last time when a familiar face he was not in the mood for popped out from around an outcrop of limestone not far from him.
"Gilrack? You're alive?"
He growled. The yellow newt of a female was the closest thing he had to a neighbor and there was a reason she'd never found mate, despite being plenty pretty. Nosey little thing, and bossy enough to rival his mother.
"By the fires, are those wings?"
"No time, Purn, I'm moving out."
"What? Surely you have a minute to—"
No, he did not, as he quickly took to the air.
Back across the city. Back up to the high hung, luminous bay, back past the curious guards and into the throne hall. The officials had yet to leave and had only grown louder as they talked about whatever with his mother, Gilrack didn't care. At least this time his mother didn't stop them mid-sentence to yell at him from across the expansive hall. He nearly clipped an outcrop of the hanging light stones in his rush to get back up to Jo.
A dark red, older male leaned against the wall outside the curtains, waiting for him with quiet, muted mind waves.
Only on meeting his father's gaze did he finally slow, taking his time to land without making too much noise, in case he disturb Jo.
His father must have sensed his mood, for he gave a nod of his heavy head in greeting. His father had the largest horns out of his mother's mates, majestic and black as the obsidian knife he had given his son. His hair was also a gleaming black.
Gilrack let his father approach and bump his brow against his. A soft wave of his father's relief and affection brushed against him, quiet, but no less deep.
Gilrack lingered against his father's touch for a moment longer than he usually would. The harried irritation in his chest calmed.
In his quiet way, his father gestured to the curtain, asking for permission to enter, all while emitting somehow that it was okay for his son to refuse. Gilrack breathed deep for the first time. He'd never understand how such a competent, kind male such as his father managed staying married to his mother and her two other mates. He only laid down orders on Gilrack when it was necessary, and otherwise understood what his son needed more than anyone else. Not to mention he looked like he'd already been up here for a while, which was a testament to his physical capabilities despite his age. The tunnel up to the royal nest was not short or forgiving.
If it had been anyone else, Gilrack would have kicked them down to splat on the floor far below.
Gilrack sighed, but nodded, and held the curtain open for his father. His father let him feel his deep gratitude before entering reverently, as he should, having already sensed the sensitive female within. Even once past the curtain his father didn't draw any closer until Gilrack had set his cargo down on the counter and offered him a seat on the other side of the empty incubator.
Only Jo's beautiful pale face could be seen peeking out from all the softness of the nest. The sight of it filled Gilrack with such love, he found himself fit to burst.
"Jo," he crooned, delighting in gently touching her cheek. "May I see the eggs?"
She mumbled something and moved to push back the blanket, but was too far asleep to push it all the way. He felt the tickle of his father's wonder as he caught sight of Jo past the bulk of the incubator. That wonder full on popped when Gilrack took out a single egg to show him.
"Blue?" his father murmured. "How many?"
"Three."
Unlike his mother, Gilrack offered his egg to his father.
His father took it just as gently and pulled it to his chest, which bowed inwardly as Gilrack's no longer could to keep it warm. His pupils were large and black as they darted from purple freckle to freckle on the smooth shell.
After a moment of cradling it, he looked up at Gilrack and let out a soft, whisper of a croon.
"You did well."
Gilrack's chest burned as the great, painful knot inside suddenly loosed.
He found himself fighting the urge to cry.
"I didn't," he whispered, unable to meet his father's gaze. "I...she's weak. One egg was empty."
"But three weren't," his father murmured back. "And your mate...her mind waves are so kind."
Gilrack shrunk down to his haunches, letting his wings curve around his shoulders. "I don't deserve her."
Rather than respond, his father slipped off his seat to crouch down with him, the egg still kept perfectly warm and safe against his concave chest. He once more set his brow against Gilrack's, crooning soft as a breeze. He felt his father's claws trace the edge of his horns as they brushed him once, then twice. It wasn't that his father was the overly touchy type, but rather he knew his son well enough to know just how much must have happened to cause such pain in his words and mind waves. He understood, somehow, that now wasn't the time to agree with Gilrack or scold him further as his mother had.
"You did well," he said.
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Author here. Next chap, as promised. We need more good daddies in the world. I think Dad's are just as needed as Mom's are. Hope you're all do'n fine, fo shizzle.