Jaenelle squealed for joy when she finished peeling the egg and splitting it apart. Somehow, she'd managed to boil eggs. Marian looked as overjoyed too, and Lucivar looked confused. Daemonar was confused by his father's confusion, and Daemon and Saetan stared in amusement. Saeten cleared his throat and kissed his daughter's forehead.
"Wonderful, witch-child! I'm going to have to run to a meeting soon, though," he said, kissing her forehead once more. He then left the house to catch the winds.
"Shoot!" Jaenelle gasped. "I hope he took his tonic this morning."
"Sweetheart, he probably did. He's a wise man." Daemon curled his arms around her waist, pulling her close for a kiss that made Marian's cheeks burn. Lucivar contemplated doing the same thing, but stealing Daemon's thunder was a dangerous enough game as it is. He chuckled and watched Daemonar's mouth drop, though, amused at his own son's reaction. Jaenelle started to blush too, but not from embarrassment.
"Let's keep it nice and clean here, Daemon," Lucivar finally said, watching while the two regained some composure. He still chuckled, though, and elbowed Daemonar. "Thought about doing that to a girl yet?" he teased, watching Daemonar's reaction turn from shocked to thoughtful. He immediately regretted asking.
"Well, sort of. She's not here, though. I even thought of staking a claim..." He watched all eyes turn on him in dangerous contemplation. His eyes widened. "What?" he asked. "I don't think she'd appreciate it is all. I also don't want to die young..."
Jaenelle traded looks with Marian before both women burst out laughing. Jaenelle protectively put a hand around her stomach along with Marian. Lucivar sent a look to Daemon, who was blissfully ignorant of the move himself. Lucivar decided he would explain to Daemon exactly what Jaenelle was going through when he noticed the haunted look in his eyes. Lucivar remembered how scary it had been to see Marian pregnant, and here she was with their second child too.
Daemon still looked a little thoughtful.
"Malory?" he asked. "Why her?"
"She's probably the first girl who wasn't so terrified of me that she expressed how pissed she was. She threw a frying pan at me, you know." Daemonar looked a little harassed when he said that.
Lucivar burst out laughing this time, joining the females. Daemon looked a little confused, but he still seemed amused.
"Aren't you a little young to like girls like that?" he asked chuckling, but his eyes were still serious with thinking.
"What do you mean? I'm fifteen. Besides," Daemonar cleared his throat. The look in his eyes clearly stated what he was thinking of Malory right now as well. Both males sobered up immediately, and the women were able to turn their laughter down to hysterical giggles slipping out every few seconds.
Lucivar took hold of Daemon's shoulders and started to direct him outside. "Daemon and I are going to have a talk with you about this," he said, gesturing for Daemon to follow.
"Why me?" Daemon asked, looking slightly annoyed.
"Because Saetan isn't here," Lucivar said, snorting as if it were a normal thing.
"Oh. Well, what happened to age and rank?"
"Have you forgotten that's about as existent around here as an old Terreillien queen?"
Daemon snarled a little, but it wasn't as serious as it used to be. He helped Lucivar corner Daemonar in the practice field before the boy could run away. He suddenly remembered an old memory of catching the flying terror by his leg when he was avoiding bath time and bed time. It was almost painful to watch the boy grow up.
Still...
"It's time you learned about sex," Lucivar said, not bothering to disguise the word.
A good twenty minutes later, Daemonar's jaw was dropped again, and both males were satisfied that Daemonar knew everything he needed to know so far. Then again, he didn't quite understand the Virgin Night, but for now, he wouldn't need to know if Malory wasn't a virgin. Chances are she was, but he wasn't about to ask her or help her this early in her life.
Daemon squeezed his shoulder gently before fleeing the scene, running back to Lucivar's house to get Jaenelle.
"Are you even joking?" Daemonar asked. He looked at the strange face Lucivar made before sighing. "Right. You don't joke on this kind of thing. What if she's... you know..."
Lucivar chuckled. "I'm glad that's something you worry about. You're going to worry about her a lot if she provokes you this much right now. Except it's weird you don't have a protective need yet. Maybe she just isn't the right one."
"Dad!" Daemonar said. "It's her. You can feel it, right? When you look at mom? The drive? The need to protect, but I'm just saying. It's not the same with her as it is with other blood. She's... different."
"We know," Lucivar said. His eyes looked clouded with thought for a moment before a slapped a hand on Daemonar's back.
"Time to take you to a Red Moon house, right?" he joked, his grin wide and arrogant. Daemonar punched his father in the chest. They rough-housed until Marian called them for supper.
When both males approached the house, Jaenelle's and Malory's smells were inside the kitchen.
Jaenelle and Malory were both wearing borrowed aprons from Marian, and Jaenelle's golden hair was pulled back in a hair tie now. Malory, who's curly brown hair was still short like a boy's, but she had a handkerchief around her hair to keep it out of her face. Jaenelle laughed at something she said in the Old Tongue, and the girls kept mixing something in a bowl.
Marian held another bowl filled with something else she was mixing. When both males cleared their throat, all three eyes shot up. Jaenelle's were curious, Marian's were worried, and Malory's were downright hostile. Lucivar looked at the girls and started to flee himself. Three cooking women, one of them a hearth-witch, were terrifying enough. Daemonar stood his ground thought and hugged his mother.
He hesitated before asking Jaenelle, "Auntie Jay, what are you guys making?"
Jaenelle grinned and threw an arm around Malory, opening her mouth to make an excuse. She had let craft float the bowl up to the table unthinkingly, and immediately, Malory and Marian were protective and snarling at her. Jaenelle blinked before letting her hand wrap around her stomach protectively.
"Sorry," Jaenelle squeaked. It didn't stop Daemonar from picking up right away.
"You're pregnant!" he hissed, running to help Jaenelle. Malory snarled at him too, putting up her fists in a defensive stance. Daemonar backed off slowly, but he growled at her. Marian hissed at both of them before taking the bowl Malory was still holding.
"Both of you," Jaenelle said, calm and cool. "Leash it."
Daemonar and Malory both stopped glaring at each other to glare at her.
"No, I didn't tell Daemon yet," she admitted under their questioning glances.
"Why not?" Malory said. "He'll want to know."
"I know," Jaenelle said sheepishly. "I just don't want him to worry."
"Honey," Malory said, "You're doing all the wrong things for the right reason. You need to tell him. Don't make me tell him myself."
Jaenelle recognized the comment in a sort of reminiscence before looking irritated. "I'll tell him when he's not so stressed."
Daemonar looked hostile himself. Marian looked disappointed. "I'll tell him tonight," Jaenelle said.
Daemonar and Malory and Marian still glared. "Alright! Geez. I'm going."
Jaenelle looked thoroughly harassed by the time she was on a carriage on the winds.
"How did you know?" Daemonar asked his mother. Marian shrugged.
"I'm pregnant too," Marian said. Daemonar looked fascinated for a moment, reaching for his mother to hug her tightly. "Lucivar thinks it's going to be a sister," she whispered in his ear. "So does Jaenelle and Damon and Saetan."
Daemonar smiled. "Who cares?" he asked. "That's a little sibling for me!"
He swung his mother in a circle before letting her back down on her feet. He directed his gaze toward Malory now. "How about you?" he asked. "How did you know?"
Malory shrugged. "My mother hugged her belly when she was pregnant with my sister too."
"You have a sister?" Daemonar asked, fascinated again.
"I have an older brother. My little sister died young, though," she said, her eyes haunted and terrified. Daemonar itched to embrace her again, but he figured the stiff stance she held wasn't one for inviting touching of any kind.
"How?" he asked hesitantly.
"She died because... some bastard raped and murdered her while I was being too stupid to help!" Malory exclaimed, feeling unnaturally open on the subject. She flung the bowl at Daemonar, who caught it with craft to keep the batter – cake batter, he confirmed – from spilling over. He set it down gently on the table and moved to embrace her. She fought and hit and punched him until he had his arms gently around her. Then all she did was cry for the first time in years over her little sister.
"She was way too young," Malory sobbed. "She was only seven! She was my sweet little sister I didn't protect! She's..." Malory started to cry hysterically, unable to stop herself even when her breath was shuddering out of her. Since Malory had started to hyperventilate, Daemonar ushered her into a seat.
The look on his mother's face was as haunted as his. They both understood rape and beatings very well. Even Lucivar understood it. If Jaenelle were here, she'd be in a cold rage right now. Ever since her black power wasn't really enough to fling the world upside down, she would have violently threw things until she was calm again.
Malory just sat in the chair and cried, face in her hands. When she finally felt no more tears stinging her eyes, she sniffed and wiped her nose on her sleeve. Marian tried to pretend she didn't see that, but the clean streak in her started to search for a handkerchief in her apron pocket. She pulled out a dish cloth she decided to wash later and handed it to Malory. Malory accepted the kind gesture and wiped her nose, sniffing a little more under the scratchy cloth.
Daemonar just stood there, itching to hold her close again. She wasn't alright. She would never be alright with that in her head. She blames herself for it too... like Auntie Jay. He hated thinking this girl was anything like Jaenelle by being so haunted. No girls any age should think like that.
Marian hugged Malory and rubbed her shoulders gently. She was cooing gently in her ear, Malory was a little embarrassed that she had cried in front of someone, and Lucivar had strolled into the kitchen. He had felt the dark, haunting energy so similar to Jaenelle's, but it wasn't. It was Malory. The bracelet on her wrist shimmered, the runes glowing a little bit. Lucivar stared at it before glaring at his son.
"This better not be your fault," he hissed, grabbing Daemonar by the shoulders roughly and ushering him outside.
"Dad!" Daemonar complained, breaking free to walk away to the training field. He called in his new war blade and started going through warm ups while he walked, feeling his frustration slowly work its way out through his weapon. Lucivar stood aside a minute, letting his son work out his frustration.
When Daemonar had finished warm ups, he called in the equipment to clean the weapon, watching it intensely. "She's so much like Auntie Jay," he muttered, feeling his voice drop to a near whisper. Lucivar sat next to his son. "Even some experiences they had were... similar. She acts like... like me! Like if I were to let someone hurt mom or Auntie Jay or any other queen in the coven, I'd blame myself for the rest of my life."
"You mean she acts as protective and passionate as a Warlord Prince?" Lucivar asked. "Because she isn't. She's a girl." Still, Lucivar could remember very clearly how Malory had just known how some things could be off. She had just somehow known that Jaenelle was weaker during her Moon's Blood. She had known that Jaenelle was pregnant and that using Craft could cause a miscarriage, and she'd known that Daemon, despite the fact that those two hated each other thoroughly, would like to know about the child.
"She doesn't exactly act like one right away, right?" Daemonar observed carefully. "It's as if this Realm has awakened a sort of sense in her. Some sort of trigger. What do you think?" He looked up at his father, hoping the answer came dancing out of him. He knew better, of course, but that was his father who had seen and done more than him. There was always some hope that Lucivar would have the answer.
"Good luck staking a claim on that one, kiddo," Lucivar said, grinning arrogantly again. He jumped to his feet and didn't bother to ask what "experiences" Jaenelle and Malory had in common. If they were anything near the same, he would have been hunting in Malory's Realm for an asshole to skin.