Disclaimer: I first heard the name Kobie from Rb, who has a cousin named
Koby. And I have the Marco/Jordan pairing from Rhi Marzano's fics ("The
Young Chronicles" and "Mistaken Tomorrow"). Oh, and most of this
(e. g. the fourth-before-last paragraph, or the bit about the father) is
simply stolen from a Magda Szabo novel. I don't know if it's been
translated to English, but then it might be called "Masquerade".
My name is Cassie.
I'd been pretty regular for the last few years. But now, it should have come
a week ago, and still nothing.
No wonder. What I wondered was how I could have gotten away this easily. My
emotions were enough for a fatal illness.
But what if...?
It could have been. Truly, it could have been. Yes... Hope began to grow in
me.
I told my parents. They said my hope was probably justified.
But, they said, if the mother's life was at risk...
I refused.
I refused, because I knew I was old enough to carry it out safely.
But more importantly, I refused because I didn't want to waste my after-last
chance.
This baby was already a half-orphan. And I'd get it born, even if it became
a full orphan in the process!
My parents accepted my decision.
They'd give me all the medical help they could. So would Toby Hamee, who'd
learned everything Quafijinivon knew. And Ket Halpak, the best midwife in the
valley, who knew more about healing barks and herbs than I ever would.
But I couldn't go to a hospital. I'd have been recognized, and both of me
would have been killed. Or I'd have been infested and forced to morph. And I
didn't even want to think of the possibility of morphing a small animal. Or a
male animal. Or anything other than a mammal.
For the next eight months, I wouldn't morph at all. I didn't even try a
female mixed-human morph, although that could have gotten me into proper
care. But I didn't dare take the risk. Yes, my baby had survived the final
battle inside a female wolf, but then it had been no more than a few cells
big. And I couldn't count on such a thing to happen two times in a row.
I'd have my baby here, in the valley, in our home. And every woman would
help me, whether human or Hork-Bajir.
I was worried for my baby, but I knew it would be in good hands.
And then we found out it was no "it". It was a "they". Mom heard two
heartbeats.
Twin pregnancy. More dangerous than a single baby. I knew, and I didn't
care. Perhaps only two of the three of us would survive, but I didn't care,
as long as my babies were those two.
Just let them survive. Just let them survive, I thought during the early
birth pains. Very early. The end of the seventh month.
If my twins were born this early, they would probably still survive, but
they'd be at greater risk than normal.
For the next two months, I lay very still.
I was taken care of by my family. By the twins' family. Most of all by their
maternal grandparents.
My twins would never know their father. They'd grow up calling him Jake.
Perhaps one day they'd have someone to call Father. I knew Jake would want
it that way. The children would need a father.
But Jake, the father they took after, was forever lost to them.
I didn't know about their uncle or their paternal grandparents. Maybe they'd
know the twins someday. But right now, there was no way we could help them,
or they could help us.
But my babies still had a family.
There was their great-aunt, Naomi, almost like a grandmother to them. There
were her daughters: three aunts. And through them, two uncles. Yes, two:
Tobias and Marco. Jordan was growing up fast. And Ax, Loren, Eva and Peter
were all great-aunts and great-uncles to my twins.
All of them were there to help the three of us through these two long,
worried months. But it was not only them.
The Hork-Bajir cared for us as well. They came by daily to see to my needs
and give their kind words. It wasn't just Toby and her family, but all, more
than a hundred free Hork-Bajir on Earth.
James and his friends came, too. So did the Chee. They carried the peace
movement Controllers in their arms, because for humans, it was a long way to
walk to the valley.
In those two months, it was as if the whole world had come together to help
me. But it wasn't just for me, Cassie. I was more than myself, now. I was the
mom of two children.
And at the end of the two months, on a night in early February, only a
few days before the calculated time -- I became a real mother. The mother
of two healthy and strong, though skinny children.
A boy and a girl. Jacob Steven and Tamara Jean. Kobie and Tam. My son, my
daughter.
My children. And Jake's.
Something of him was still left for me.
Koby. And I have the Marco/Jordan pairing from Rhi Marzano's fics ("The
Young Chronicles" and "Mistaken Tomorrow"). Oh, and most of this
(e. g. the fourth-before-last paragraph, or the bit about the father) is
simply stolen from a Magda Szabo novel. I don't know if it's been
translated to English, but then it might be called "Masquerade".
My name is Cassie.
I'd been pretty regular for the last few years. But now, it should have come
a week ago, and still nothing.
No wonder. What I wondered was how I could have gotten away this easily. My
emotions were enough for a fatal illness.
But what if...?
It could have been. Truly, it could have been. Yes... Hope began to grow in
me.
I told my parents. They said my hope was probably justified.
But, they said, if the mother's life was at risk...
I refused.
I refused, because I knew I was old enough to carry it out safely.
But more importantly, I refused because I didn't want to waste my after-last
chance.
This baby was already a half-orphan. And I'd get it born, even if it became
a full orphan in the process!
My parents accepted my decision.
They'd give me all the medical help they could. So would Toby Hamee, who'd
learned everything Quafijinivon knew. And Ket Halpak, the best midwife in the
valley, who knew more about healing barks and herbs than I ever would.
But I couldn't go to a hospital. I'd have been recognized, and both of me
would have been killed. Or I'd have been infested and forced to morph. And I
didn't even want to think of the possibility of morphing a small animal. Or a
male animal. Or anything other than a mammal.
For the next eight months, I wouldn't morph at all. I didn't even try a
female mixed-human morph, although that could have gotten me into proper
care. But I didn't dare take the risk. Yes, my baby had survived the final
battle inside a female wolf, but then it had been no more than a few cells
big. And I couldn't count on such a thing to happen two times in a row.
I'd have my baby here, in the valley, in our home. And every woman would
help me, whether human or Hork-Bajir.
I was worried for my baby, but I knew it would be in good hands.
And then we found out it was no "it". It was a "they". Mom heard two
heartbeats.
Twin pregnancy. More dangerous than a single baby. I knew, and I didn't
care. Perhaps only two of the three of us would survive, but I didn't care,
as long as my babies were those two.
Just let them survive. Just let them survive, I thought during the early
birth pains. Very early. The end of the seventh month.
If my twins were born this early, they would probably still survive, but
they'd be at greater risk than normal.
For the next two months, I lay very still.
I was taken care of by my family. By the twins' family. Most of all by their
maternal grandparents.
My twins would never know their father. They'd grow up calling him Jake.
Perhaps one day they'd have someone to call Father. I knew Jake would want
it that way. The children would need a father.
But Jake, the father they took after, was forever lost to them.
I didn't know about their uncle or their paternal grandparents. Maybe they'd
know the twins someday. But right now, there was no way we could help them,
or they could help us.
But my babies still had a family.
There was their great-aunt, Naomi, almost like a grandmother to them. There
were her daughters: three aunts. And through them, two uncles. Yes, two:
Tobias and Marco. Jordan was growing up fast. And Ax, Loren, Eva and Peter
were all great-aunts and great-uncles to my twins.
All of them were there to help the three of us through these two long,
worried months. But it was not only them.
The Hork-Bajir cared for us as well. They came by daily to see to my needs
and give their kind words. It wasn't just Toby and her family, but all, more
than a hundred free Hork-Bajir on Earth.
James and his friends came, too. So did the Chee. They carried the peace
movement Controllers in their arms, because for humans, it was a long way to
walk to the valley.
In those two months, it was as if the whole world had come together to help
me. But it wasn't just for me, Cassie. I was more than myself, now. I was the
mom of two children.
And at the end of the two months, on a night in early February, only a
few days before the calculated time -- I became a real mother. The mother
of two healthy and strong, though skinny children.
A boy and a girl. Jacob Steven and Tamara Jean. Kobie and Tam. My son, my
daughter.
My children. And Jake's.
Something of him was still left for me.