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When Neelan's plow hit the egg, he was annoyed. He had spent all day plowing; the sun had been beating on his shoulders, and his shirt was stuck to his back with sweat. The last thing he needed was a rock in his way.
Swearing under his breath, he crouched in the dirt, brushing the soil away.
It was a rock. A perfectly smooth rock, but a rock nonetheless. He tossed it aside onto the pile of other rocks, roots, and debris he'd unearthed in the plowing of the virgin field and did not give it another thought.
**
At the end of a long day's work, Neelan usually went straight to bed. His nights were too lonely without Elric to want to prolong them, and the physical work in the fields made him tired. But tonight, he felt strangely awake. That was when he remembered the rock. Maybe he ought to take another look at it. Rocks weren't supposed to be perfectly smooth, though this one had been; he could still remember how it had felt under the dirt. Unnatural.
It might be the sort of thing Elric would be interested in—he was forever digging things out of the ground, old coins and potsherds. He kept them in a special case Neelan had built him one harvest. That had been last season, so Neelan hadn't seen Elric's treasures (he called them artifacts) in their new home, but he was looking forward to delivering the report of the spring planting so he could.
He knew it was maudlin, but he couldn't help missing Elric. For all the years they had been together, the time they'd actually spent with each other had only amounted to a few months. He almost wished there would be another war so he and Elric might be together in the field, though he knew Elric's leg—the leg he'd injured saving Neelan's life—would keep him from further military duties.
They would have to make do with the few times a year Neelan could contrive to go up to the manor. He could read and write, which distinguished him from most of the tenants, so he had appointed himself official record-keeper, which gave him the opportunity to go to the manor every couple of months.
It wasn't enough, but it was all they had.
The rock was still in the pile out by the fresh-plowed field. Neelan felt a brief flash of annoyance that Bill and Len hadn't cleared it away yet—his instructions had been quite clear—but he supposed it was a good thing the rock was still there.
It looked a bit better after a bath in the brook, but it wasn't until he got it inside by the fire that Neelan realized it wasn't a rock.
It was an artifact.
Or at least, that was what Elric would have called it. Neelan only knew what Elric had told him, and Elric tended to leave out the basic bits when he was excited.
It was egg-shaped, perfectly smooth, with curved lines wending their way up its sides, almost like they'd been painted on. The egg—he had begun to think of it as an egg—was white, the lines gold.
It was beautiful.
He had to show it to Elric.
**
He felt guilty leaving Bill and Len so suddenly, but he rationalized it that they would never learn with him looming over them. That was one of the things he disliked about leadership; they looked at him like he knew what he was doing better than them. He suspected that the work done in his absence wouldn't be as good as it might have been with him present, but he would let his standards slip to spend some time with Elric.
The excuse he gave them was a weak one—yes, anything of value that was found had to be reported to the lord of the manor right away, but anyone looking at the egg could see it was nothing of value. To anyone but Elric, that is.
He hitched up the donkey cart, set the sack with the egg in it carefully in the back, and drove out of the village before dawn. He wanted to spend as much time with Elric as possible, and if that meant getting up at an unreasonably early hour, he'd do it.
Bill and Len nodded their bleary acknowledgement that they'd have the south patch plowed by the time he got back. Frankly, he didn't care if they went back to bed and stayed there. If he had his way, he'd be balls-deep in his liege in an hour; he couldn't fault anyone for being less than committed to their work.
It wasn't a long drive, but for the dictates of propriety, he kept his visits to a minimum. The De Bracy lands stretched for leagues in either direction, and Neelan considered himself lucky he was at least near the manor. A journey of multiple days would have been harder to justify for this impulse.
It was not long after sunrise when he arrived. He hoped Elric would be available. He didn't think he'd be away, but the last thing he wanted was for him to be too busy.
"Where's Lord De Bracy?" he asked the boy who'd come to take Flossie.
"His study." Neelan only had to hear those words before he was taking the steps two at a time and pushing right through the manor's front doors.
Elric was at his desk when he let himself in. He dropped his pen when he saw Neelan, launching himself around his desk. He leapt into Neelan's arms with such force that he stumbled back against the wood paneling, dropping the sack with the egg in it. He vaguely heard it roll across the rug before he allowed himself to be completely absorbed in kissing Elric.
Elric was several inches shorter than him, but he managed to practically scale Neelan in his enthusiasm. Neelan worked his hands under Elric's arse and walked him to the desk. He supposed they were doing this right here. Elric's arms were locked around his neck, and Neelan desperately forced a hand between them to unlace his breeches. They thrust against each other, wordlessly, until they came, shuddering together. Elric pressed his forehead against Neelan's, still breathing hard.
"What brings you?"
Neelan kissed his neck. "I had an inkling my liege needed to be fucked."
"Mm," Elric brushed a curl off Neelan's forehead. "That wasn't fucking."
Neelan grinned. "I'll show you one of those later." He kissed Elric. "I actually brought you something." He extracted himself reluctantly from Elric's grasp and retrieved the sack. "My plow hit this yesterday. And I believe the charter dictates anything that could be valuable be brought before the lord of the manor." He cleared his throat. "I think it may be an artifact."
Elric's eyes brightened. Neelan might have been jealous if he hadn't just witnessed Neelan's enthusiasm for him. He opened the sack and pulled out the egg.
"It's lovely," he turned it over in his hands. "This workmanship is exquisite. I almost wonder..."
"Wonder what?"
"Perhaps it's silly." He was half frowning.
"Tell me." Neelan hadn't the first clue about artifacts, but he liked to hear Elric talk about them.
"Well," Elric sat the egg carefully on the ledge by the window behind his desk, "when magic was still in the world, I think it makes sense that they might have used it for crafting. These lines seem too perfect to have been done by hand."
"It is beautiful," Neelan agreed. He smiled at Elric. "And so are you."
Elric rolled his eyes. "Flattery will get you everywhere. Come. Have breakfast. You must be starving."
It was almost painful how easily Neelan slotted into life at De Bracy Hall. The servants all liked him, many of whom had grown up on the estate. He had long suspended as he'd Elric that their relationship was not a secret from the household staff, not remotely.
But he couldn't stay permanently. Elric needed an heir, and Neelan could never provide that.
He tried to ignore that and enjoy breakfast, but sitting at the table with Elric at the opposite end felt so much like he was his husband that he couldn't stop thinking about what he couldn't have.
After breakfast, he gave Elric the promised fucking, a proper fucking in his bed. They lay together for a long time, silently, Neelan holding Elric as close as he could. They said nothing; there was no need and nothing to say.
"I love you," Neelan murmured against the back of Elric's neck. "I would give you a child if I could."
"I know." Elric turned in his arms, pressing their bodies together.
"I have to go," Neelan said finally. "I need to be back by sunset."
Elric was silent as Neelan bent to kiss him. "I wish it was different."
"I know. So do I." Neelan dressed slowly. "I'll come again if I find another artifact."
Elric smiled, drawing the sheets over himself in such an enticing way that Neelan knew he was going to hold on to that image for weeks. "That sounds wonderful."
At last, Neelan pulled himself away, knowing he had to be content with the knowledge that this had been an extra visit he wouldn't have gotten ordinarily. It didn't make leaving any easier.
**
Elric watched Neelan go from the window of his bedchamber, staying there until the donkey cart was a small, fading dot in the distance. Then he pushed himself away to do work.
Doing the books for the estate was no hardship; especially when his war injury kept him from doing too much physical work, Elric didn't mind that all the paperwork fell to him. If Neelan were his husband, it would be much easier to keep up with the more distant parts that required walking far distances. But such maudlin thoughts accomplished nothing.
Elric settled at his desk to work.
On impulse, he took the egg from where he'd placed it on the windowsill and moved it to his desk so he could look at it while he worked. It truly was an exquisite piece. It was more detailed than hand painting could accomplish and while Elric was aware that there were historical techniques that had been lost to time, he suspected there might have been some kind of magic involved. How else had the great castles and cathedrals that dotted the landscape been erected, or some of the finest scrollwork performed if not by magic? Elric hadn't read much on the subject, but he'd heard stories and see some of the largest buildings while on campaign.
He laid his left hand on the egg as he wrote with his right. It almost felt warm, but it had been sitting in the sun. He supposed it was that and thought no more of it.
**
As the week dragged on, it became a habit. It wasn't as though he needed both hands to write and the egg was warm and pleasant from sitting in the sun. Sometimes, while he was waiting for inspiration to strike or working through a difficult problem with the estate, he would sit and cradle it in his lap. Naturally in his idle moments, his thoughts strayed to Neelan. Neelan with his strong arms, his laugh. He would make a wonderful lord consort and a father.
He did not know what possessed him to take the egg to bed. Perhaps precisely because it was so warm, it would do instead of a warmer. He laid it at his feet and went to sleep. His dreams were extremely vivid. Elric had never been a terribly vivid dreamer, but these were as real as life. Old places, the smell of damp stone, the feel of moss under his fingers, then the smell of creosote and marks burned into earth. He woke refreshed, his feet still warm from the egg.
On impulse, he spent the next night with the egg in his arms and the same dreams returned, with even more startling vividness.
On the third night, he was awakened by a crack.
He sat up, heart racing. He had been having the same dream, but the sudden crack had brought him right back to the battlefield. Once, blinking, he'd realized nothing was amiss, he looked down at the egg.
There was a long crack running down its center.
Elric frowned. There was no way he could have done that in his sleep; the egg was too strong. It had been in the ground for possibly centuries and it had survived its encounter with Neelan's plow. How could he have damaged it by holding it too hard?
If anything, it was warmer.
Elric slipped from his bed, going to the window where he could see the egg by the light of the moon. The crack was definitely there. Something suddenly possessed Elric to see what was inside the egg.
No. He stopped himself. This was foolishness. This wasn't an egg; it was an art piece or something used for a ritual of some sort. He laid it down on the sideboard and went back to bed.
Shortly before dawn, there came another, larger crack. Elric rocketed out of bed, stumbling in his haste. He'd slept poorly and had been troubled by the dreams. Now he was certain the egg was doing something on its own.
Hatching, some dim part of his brain suggested, but that was impossible. Or at least, Elric had thought it impossible until he saw the hand.
He had never moved so fast as he did when running into the corridor, shouting for a servant to hitch a cart and take him immediately to the edge of the estate.
**
Neelan was engaged in planting when the cart rolled up. For a moment, he wondered if he was dreaming: Elric, here, on any day, would have been an unusual sight; for it not to be a feast day or a day of his progress about the estate was entirely without precedent. He was so dumbstruck he didn't even go forward to help Elric down from the cart.
He leapt down himself, hardly waiting for the driver to stop, though he wobbled a bit for the bundle he carried in his arms.
"In your house," Elric said to Neelan. "Now."
"El—my lord, what?"
"You'll see. Just come." Elric did not even wait for Neelan to catch up to him before he approached Neelan's small hut.
Neelan ducked inside after him, blinking at the near total darkness after the brightness of the full sun just past noon.
"Elric?" he asked. "Is everything all right?"
"I think," Elric said cautiously, "everything is more than all right. This is the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to us."
Neelan laughed. It wasn't the ideal response, but it was the one his body unwittingly made. "What are you talking about? They will think you mad, El."
"Look." He unwrapped the blankets he held, revealing the egg. Neelan had almost forgotten about the thing. "It's hatching." He ran his finger along the two long cracks that now marred the egg's smooth surface.
"Elric, it's stone. Stone cracks."
"Stone doesn't have an arm in it." Elric was looking at Neelan with wild eyes. If Neelan hadn't known him to be nothing if not staid and serious, he would have doubted him. He did doubt him but he had to listen to him.
"An arm?"
"Just wait." Elric laid the egg down on Neelan's low table and sat down to watch it.
Neelan settled down to watch Elric. He had always trusted his lover, both on the field and in matters of the estate, and in matters of the heart. He trusted Elric's knowledge because he read books. Books filled with things Neelan could only dream of. He had practical knowledge, certainly, the sort of stuff that would help him with running the part of the estate that was his charge. And he thought his common-sense knowledge was what applied here. Rocks weren't eggs and rocks didn't hatch.
" I saw it," Elric said with conviction. "It cracked and a little hand came out."
"But that's nonsense. That's a fairy story."
Elric's gaze intensified on the egg. Perhaps he was rubbing off on Neelan because it seemed to be subtly pulsing. Right when Neelan had decided he was really going mad, there was another crack. And a small hand punched its way through the shell.
The shell, because it was an egg. Neelan held his breath. The tiny hand waved about as if reaching for something. He couldn't explain why he did it; he acted purely on impulse. Neelan reached out and touched the hand with his finger. It gripped it tightly immediately, refusing to let go.
"It's a baby," Elric said numbly.
It had been obvious since the hand had emerged—because that was what it was. It was a human baby's hand. Neelan's breath hitched. "Elric, this—"
"I know."
"It's impossible. There can't be a baby in that egg."
"Well, it seems that there is."
Neelan could see it as well as Elric could, but that didn't mean he believed it any more than he did. He only half listened as Elric explained about the dreams and the warmth and sleeping with the egg. He would never have believed any of it if not for the tiny fingers wrapped around his finger.
"We have to do something," Elric said finally. "We have to help it."
Gingerly, the baby's hand still holding Neelan's finger, Elric slipped his fingertip into the hole and cracked the shell some more.
"Are you sure?" Neelan asked.
Elric snorted. "I'm not sure of anything. How can I be? It's a bloody baby in a bloody egg. But it looks like it wants to come out."
Elric's efforts caused another significant crack and he managed to get a good portion of the shell away.
A foot kicked out, nearly knocking Neelan's hand away.
"Come on, little one," Elric urged. They were now sitting with their heads together over the table. "You can do it."
As though it had heard and understood him, the other tiny fist punched through a portion of shell. A cry split the air.
"Oh," Elric gasped. Neelan was too emotional for words. "Oh."
The baby was looking at them. Its first cry had been shock at the rush of air and now it was too surprised even to cry. Its gaze was unfocused, drifting between Neelan and Elric.
"Hello," Elric said. "Hello." He was nearly giddy.
"Elric," Neelan said. "What are you going to do with it?"
"Do with it?" Elric was laughing. "Neelan, this is our child."
"Our child? How do you figure? It came from an egg!"
"Yes, and?" Elric was moving away the rest of the shell, revealing the baby to be a boy. "Get those blankets; we'll have to keep him warm."
Neelan worked much better with direct instructions, especially when something so utterly uncommon was occurring. A baby. A baby in an egg. A baby in an egg that could be theirs…
He shook his head and went to do as Elric asked. There were people who doubted Elric's abilities as a lord and military commander because they only knew him as a daydreaming scholar—those people had never been the recipient of his instructions in a crisis.
Together, they wrapped the still bewildered baby in blankets and Elric nestled him against his chest.
"He can be ours," Neelan said thoughtfully.
"Yes." Elric stood. "It's too late for me to go back now. We'll have to stay here tonight."
Neelan felt his face burn. He had never imagined having Elric in his small, smoky, dark house. He much preferred the airy open space of de Bracy Hall, and while Neelan knew Elric knew how he lived, he didn't want to continually remind his lover of their differing circumstances. Or be reminded himself.
"I'll make a bed," he said. "You can have mine."
"Nonsense." Elric was carefully rocking the baby. "We'll share. All of us. Best find a wet nurse and a midwife. He should at least be looked at, even though he seems fine to me."
Neelan moved quickly, having been given another order he would gladly comply with. They were both duly brought, and the midwife declared the baby remarkably healthy for having been inside an egg buried in the ground.
"I have heard stories of this," she said. "Of a couple longing for a child who perform a ritual and bury a stone. The magic is said to turn it into an egg."
"But we didn't do that," Neelan said, stroking the baby's downy hair.
"No," Elric agreed. "But someone must have. And not come back for it."
Neelan knew little of history, but he knew that the de Bracys were not the original inhabitants of their lands. There had been much history of conflict before the current mostly-peaceful times. The baby yawned.
"He's ours now," he said.
Neelan was silent until the midwife and wet nurse had left, though they promised to remain nearby in case needed in the night.
Elric was still sitting with the now sleeping babe in his arms. "What should we call him?"
Neelan laughed. "I think that's the least of our worries."
"And what would be the most of our worries?"
"That… we have a baby from an egg."
Elric laughed. "A baby's a baby."
"I suppose you understand your fellow lords," Neelan uncertainly. "And if they'll accept this… the baby as your heir." He still couldn't fathom that this was something they could do.
"I don't always understand them." Elric lifted his head. "But I understand us."
Neelan sat next to him and slipped his arm about his shoulders. "I love you."
"I love you, too." Elric kissed him. "That should be all that matters."
Neelan knew it wasn't—perhaps as a commoner, he was the only one of the two that could—but it would suffice for now. Elric's smile was more than enough to warm his skeptical heart.
"I'll get us some supper," he said. "It's getting late."
He'd never cooked for Elric—Elric had never been in his house, and he tried not to be self-conscious as he threw various ingredients into the pot to make a simple stew.
"It smells delicious," Elric said, coming up beside him. The baby was now fast asleep, but Elric seemed reluctant to put him down.
For a brief moment, Neelan wished Elric could stay here with him permanently. That he wasn't lord, but just another commoner and they'd still unearthed a child in their field. They would raise and love it together, just as he'd always secretly dreamed of.
They could still do that, couldn't they?
He watched as Elric carefully laid the baby in a nest of blankets so they could eat.
"You think it will work?"
Elric laughed. "We have to make it work. This is the our best chance to get what we want. If I'm shunned from some lordly gathering—well, I couldn't care less, quite frankly. We've got to prioritize the future of the estate over what they think."
"I know." Neelan grinned. "I don't know how I could ever have doubted you."
"Because you always have my best interests at heart." Elric took a spoonful of stew. "This is delicious, by the way. I wished I'd known."
"I cooked for you in camp all the time, or have you forgotten?"
"I suppose I have." Elric's gaze was far away. "I am sorry, Neelan, that it's not easier, but you wouldn't give it up, would you?"
Neelan kissed him. "Not for the world."
**
They still hadn't named the baby. This oddity weighed on Elric's mind as he and Neelan drove back to the manor house the next morning. That Neelan should go with them was a foregone conclusion. Neelan himself hadn't even questioned it. He'd just given instructions to Bill—extra-detailed instructions in case he wasn't back for a few days. In case he never came back, a little voice he quickly silenced suggested.
Tabitha the wet nurse had come with them, too, of course. That was one thing neither of them was equipped for.
"He is human, isn't he?" Neelan asked as he drove.
"I haven't seen any evidence to the contrary," Elric said. He was still bouncing the child in his lap.
Neelan kept stealing glances at him despite himself. As the eldest of sixteen, he had plenty of experience with newborns and he couldn't find any reason to doubt that this was a fully human baby.
The servants at de Bracy Hall were simultaneously relieved to have their lord back after his sudden and alarming departure the day before and intrigued by the new arrival. Elric found himself sliding back into life at the hall as easily as he had the week before when he'd visited.
There was a rush to prepare a nursey, as furniture was brought out of storage. It seemed strangely hasty to Neelan, but he supposed if he was living in a fairy story it stood to reason that they should accept the child quickly. The people in fairy stories never seemed to question the strange turns their lives took.
"Do you want to hold him?" Elric asked suddenly. "I realized I've been hogging him."
"You haven't," Neelan said, but he held his arms out just the same. The warm bundle was pleasant in his arms and he sat, gaze fixed on the babe's tiny face.
And then the child's eyes opened and looked directly into Neelan's.
He would have been lying if he'd tried to convince himself it wasn't love.
He loved this child, as surely as if he or Elric had carried and birthed him.
"Isn't he perfect?" Elric murmured.
"He is." Neelan shifted him in his arms and sat back in his chair. "And he's ours?"
"He can't be anyone else's," Elric said softly. "I'm afraid the people who wished him into existence are long gone."
Neelan wanted to feel sadder about that than he perhaps did. Their loss had been his and Elric's gain.
"All our thanks to them, then," he said.
"Have you thought of what to call him?"
Neelan had never thought of baby names before. He'd never imagined he'd have a baby to name. "No. Have you?"
"Tierney," Elric suggested. "I'm rather fond of Tierney."
"Tierney's perfect." Neelan would probably have agreed that any name was perfect, because the baby was perfect.
"Then Tierney he shall be." Elric kissed Neelan. "Do you want me to take him back?"
"No," Neelan murmured. "Not ever."
**
Neelan found Tierney a welcome distraction as the world moved around him. Neelan was obliged to write to his own liege and the neighboring manors to announce his selection of an heir and his selection of a spouse. Neelan knew there was no reason to fear rejection, but he hated the scrutiny all the same. Tierney eased the way substantially, providing incentive (more than just Elric himself, though that was plenty) to put up with all the nonsense with the promise of what they would have after all the protocol was finished.
There would have to be a wedding. It seemed absurd to worry about there having to be a wedding when they'd spent so many years in misery about not being able to do it, but Neelan supposed he would always worry about something; it was simply his nature. Seeing Elric so happy had been a welcome change, and when he returned from his trip to the neighboring estates, Elric met him in the hall, scooped him into his arms and spun him around before setting him down again.
"Aren't you going to wait to find out if my trip was a success first?" Elric asked, brushing Neelan's hair back from his forehead and pressing a kiss to it.
Neelan brought his forehead down against Elric's. "I don't have to ask. It shows on your face."
Elric sobered slightly, surrendering his cloak to a servant. "It wasn't so easy. My cousin demanded some lands—some of the east woods."
"The east woods!" Neelan began before quailing beneath Elric's stare. "Sorry," he said quietly. "Once a land manager, always a land manager."
"I suppose I should be glad about that." Elric took his gloves off. "But I would give up have the estate for you."
"You shouldn't," Neelan warned.
"I know. And I didn't. But I let him have a third of the woods. We don't use it and it's a small price to pay to have you and Tierney."
Tierney. Neelan's face must have melted into a fond smile because Elric reached up to touch his cheek.
"Yes," Neelan said, grasping his hand, "what are the east woods when we have so much more?"
"How is he?" Elric asked, heading for the stairs.
"He just dropped off to sleep. He's an intelligent lad, I'll give him that. He takes after his father. You, I mean."
Elric laughed. "A remarkable outcome considering I didn't contribute a bit of myself to him."
"Well," Neelan waved his hand vaguely. "Isn't that the scholars' debate? Are we how we are raised or are we our flesh?"
Elric's eyebrows rose. "Who's the scholar between us now?"
"Well," Neelan said, pitching his voice lower as he opened the door of the hastily constructed nursery. "The lad will be sure to take after me, too. As soon as he can walk, I'll have him out in the field."
"Surely not so early," Elric said quietly.
"It worked for me," Neelan said, half indignantly.
"Well, then," Elric said, kneeling by the cradle to touch Tierney softly. "Then I suppose it will be good enough for our little heir."
Heir. Neelan felt his heart swell with pride. He would be heir to both of them, wouldn't he? Both of their knowledge, both of their approaches to tasks. It was fitting that the next Lord de Bracy would combine lowborn and high, and if they raised him well, he would be good to his people.
Neelan envisioned many more nights like tonight, sitting beside Tierney's cradle, watching him sleep. He'd been telling him stories, stories his parents had told him that he hadn't thought about in years. Tierney was far too little to understand them now, but that wouldn't always be the case.
"No one has raised any objections." Elric settled on the stool beside the rocking chair. "We can get married." He rubbed the back of Neelan's neck. "Soon."
"Soon." The word felt good in Neelan's mouth.
He captured Elric's mouth in a kiss. It opened beneath his mouth, and Elric let out a groan as Neelan's fingers slid into his hair.
A moment later, they parted, flushed. Tierney slept on, unconcerned. Neelan and Elric retired to their room, hand-in-hand, similarly unconcerned.