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It was long since Jirra had slipped from the room, smile wide across her tired face as she informed the gang the babe was here and that all was well. Zo could practically feel the tension wound tight in the room dissipate as the news of both the babe and Aloy’s good health was shared. She too felt the dense worry in her chest ease, though she had little doubt in Aloy's strength and success; though she was no fool, anything could happen. Slowly, the members of the Base slinked to bed, the excitement of the day finally catching up with them, and Zo was left in peace, dithering around the common room. It was not uncommon for her to feel this way, the desire to do something with her hands when she could do little else urging her to clean or arrange the room they shared with her family.
If she was being honest with herself, she needed to see Aloy’s face to know that she was truly okay. The woman was as close to her as a sister and she was also staunchly aware she was the only other mother Aloy ever knew. These next few days there would be a plethora of questions only she knew the true answer behind, through experience, not just facts, and there was a little perk of pride in that. Aloy tended to not rely on others (though she’d improved immensely) but there is a certain joy in being wanted by people you care so deeply about, being able to help them in the face of pain and change.
But she’d also promised Varl, so long ago, that she’d look out for this flame-haired huntress who washed up on the edge of a river, half-dead and speaking nonsense. Aloy was the tie that brought them all together, and if she looked closely, she could see Varl alive in Aloy the same way she could see him in Vaza. He had a presence like that, inflicting himself on those he cared about. She hoped Vaza could see her father in herself.
It was much later when Beta emerged, looking exhausted but thrilled. She’d been crying, that was for sure, and it pulled at Zo’s heart to see such unbridled joy. Beta spotted her, and rushed over, eyes filling once more.
“She’s beautiful,” Beta said softly, wiping at her eyes. “I haven’t been able to stop crying.”
Zo smiled warmly at her, “So it’s a girl.”
Beta nodded once, settling down on the couch where Zo joined her. “I’ve never seen anything like that. I’m so damn proud of her.”
“As am I,” Zo said in a whisper, “I’m glad you were there for her Beta, there is something special in having your family close by to lend you strength.”
Beta ducked her head bashfully, “I never thought I would have this you know? But, I’m not just her family nearby, I think she knew how safe it was with everyone here.”
Zo smiled at that, fingers resting on Beta’s shoulder, “It is an honor.” She watched in amusement as Beta attempted to stifle a yawn, sagging now that the excitement was over. “Go, get some rest. There will be little of it in the coming days. And grab some dinner, I’ve left some on for you. I will tend to them.”
Beta only nodded, a testament to how exhausted she was when she did not protest and headed to her room, snatching a bowl from the kitchen before disappearing to sleep. Zo watched warmly until the door concealed her from sight, feeling pride swell up in her at the strides Beta had made since she arrived here. Though the girl would never think it, Zo knew she was one of the strongest people she’d ever met. Few can grow in rot and come out blooming.
She paced around the Base, minutes stretching into hours, night full and deep. She could no longer stand it, and though she despised intruding, she would not rest until she knew. With a purpose besides watching over the Base, sleep evading her in a way it always did when someone was hurt (no matter how deliberately), she gathered some simple broth and water to bring to the new family. She had no idea if they would even be awake, but even having easy access would be helpful. The door slid open with a slight hiss, and her eyes immediately found Aloy passed out in the furs, looking wholly exhausted. Though Zo knew she was fine, perfect actually, it eased her to see her not deathly pale, the slight rise and fall of her chest indicative of her exhausted sleep.
Kotallo did not move from where he was sitting, back to the door, Aloy resting to his left, the bassinet she’d gifted them to his right. Zo walked slowly, though made sure to clank the bowls down on the desk so as to not startle the man.
“Hey Marshal,” she said lowly, not wanting to wake the new mother, “I brought you both some broth.”
He nodded once, not looking at her, and Zo had a sickening feeling he wasn’t all there. He was simply staring at the bassinet, unmoving, unyielding. She came towards him slowly, so as to not spook the man as he sat between his pledged and child, all too aware of the new emotional state he could be in. There are very few forces that can separate families, but even those do not last forever.
She gently placed her hand on his shoulder, crouching down next to him, eyes worried. She did not risk a glance at the babe, though she wanted too badly, to see the newest member of the Base. His eyes found hers and that’s when she finally let out a breath, the panic seeping from her chest as fast as it had arisen. Kotallo’s eyes were filled with unshed tears, his face one with pride and fear as he glanced back down at his daughter.
“She’s beautiful Kotallo,” she said softly, finally looking down at the babe who was resting right next to her. She wasn’t tiny by any means, one arm escaping the swaddle she was in, a pudgy hand reaching above her head. Her face was no longer that reddish-purple that comes with being born, but her nose was scrunched in a way only fresh babies did. She had hair, Zo realized, wispy red strands on the top of her head. It seemed the Sobeck hair really did win out.
Kotallo sucked in a breath of air between his teeth, staunching a sob as he stared down at the little girl. “I’m a dad,” he said, so softly she barely heard it. His fingers traced her face, feather-light, and he squeezed his eyes tight against the tears, several spilling out over his cheeks. His face was free from paint, and Zo felt honored to be trusted with such an occasion.
She brushed her fingers on his shoulder, watching the babe as he hiccuped against another sob. She was not new to fathers crying over their children, but there was something special about this moment with Kotallo. Here was this massive man, settled between his pledged and child, and she was trusted to provide comfort as he took in his fatherhood. This man, who came from as far west as she was east to each other, from worlds so different it was laughable. Yet, they’d been tied together by a singular woman who rested just to the left of her, and within that new life had sprung for them all.
When she’d met Varl, she’d never have thought this Tenakth marshal would become like her brother. Because though Aloy was the seed, Varl was the soil in which they took root. And like the Oldgrowth, he’d seen to it the seeds had sprouted, but would not know the fruits of his actions.
He would be prouder than the face of the sun. Not only of their bright, inquisitive child that held his own heart but of his family that he’d fought and died for. Varl, she knew, is the reason they were all here today, not just for what happened at GEMINI, but for how he molded the relationships that existed today. She glanced over to Aloy, who still rested softly, and she could feel Varl’s smile at her, at his pride. Because it had been him that taught her how to open her heart and accept help, family, and love. And now, in the dead of night when not a soul was awake, they were wrapped up in the feeling of such newness, of such love and awe that could never have been here without Varl.
Kotallo brushed his tears away, and it was only then that Zo realized that she too was crying. Kotallo glanced at her before offering her a piece of cloth that she used to wipe her eyes. There was that silent understanding between the two of them, of this fragile, important moment that they shared.
“I’m a dad,” he said again, softer than she’d ever known him, his voice filled with wonder and awe. Zo was helpless but to nod, letting him work through the realization of becoming a parent, one that she shared deeply. There is a difference between knowing and reality. It too did not feel real that she was a mother until hours after Vaza’s birth, that happy, yet bittersweet longing for Varl in such an important moment.
Zo could admit she was not a fully good person and chewed on the bitterness of watching this man become a father in a way her own lover never got to know. That this wonderful child would have this man to guide her in a way only the flower can guide her own. But the feeling was not long, but rather a deep, old pain that would always be there.
But when she’d been at her darkest, he’d been there, guiding her in the days after GEMINI, being an unmovable mountain on days where the grief felt like too much. And when Vaza had come into this world screaming for everyone to hear, he’d been there, promising to guide her with the strength of her father. And when she both celebrated and mourned the hours after birth he gave her a quiet comfort, knowing words could not encompass the warring tidal waves of grief and joy. Though this child’s birth does not lack her father, she still offers the same unwavering comfort in this new spring that he once gave her.
Kotallo’s gaze strayed away from his daughter, eyes landing on Aloy’s resting form. The warmth in his gaze felt too personal, the outpouring of love from a man who’d watched his pledged do an incredible feat. It was the same gaze he’d given her after the defeat of the Zeniths, after the defeat of NEMESIS. It was something special to see it in a place of new life, rather than preserving it.
“She was incredible you know,” he said softly. “I did not think I could fall more in love with her, yet by the Ten, she proves me wrong every day.”
“She did good Kotallo,” Zo whispered, looking at her friend fondly, “she did good.”
He nodded once, hand reaching out for hers, brushing his fingers over her knuckles. It was a testament to her exhaustion when she did not stir when years of waking at the slightest movement on the trail could not win. Zo gave his shoulder a slight squeeze before standing, leaving the new family in peace together. They deserved this time, for tomorrow would be far more hectic. But the coming days would be full of learning, of newness and peace in a way neither of them had ever truly had to be. And so they would be there, to be a hand to hold, a person to listen to. To help clean when they were exhausted and tired, to make food when the infant gave them no time, and to give them rest when they needed it. After all, it takes a community to raise children, and Zo would be dammed if they didn’t get it.
As she left, she glanced one more time at the small family, smiling at how Kotallo had slid between his two girls, sleep finally starting to claim him. The broth stood forgotten on the desk, slowly cooling, and the twinkling lights around them cast an air of peace around the room. But there, right before she left, she saw it, the glittering light above them that made her grin.
“I’m proud of them too Varl,” she whispered, smiling broadly. The light twinkled, before dipping away, and she turned, warmth filling her soul. Because even after death, his seeds had sprouted to be remembered by all, and the fruits of his life and labor were evident in every step they took.