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Cass’s life goes off the rails sometime in mid May, at the tail end of the spring semester when she’s neck-deep in both finals and her duties as the Chatelaine of Muir Woods. It’s not Madden’s fault that it happens, but he sure is the messenger after the fact. Later, she’ll be grateful that it was him to tell her. At the time, she’d been mostly too panicked to be anything else.
She’s pretty fond of Madden, all things told. It would be awkward if she weren’t, since they’re the left and right hands to the throne and it would make things pretty damn awkward if they didn’t get along. Still, even without the whole coworker situation Cass is pretty sure she’d like the man, and with it he’s genuinely one of her best friends.
That doesn’t mean they see much of each other—by design, their schedules rarely line up completely, since the household functions best when there’s at least one of them in the knowe and so they need to cover each other's absences. She can go weeks without seeing him for more than a wave across the hall or a harried smile.
Which is why Cass doesn’t connect the dots until five weeks in, when court is slow and Madden comes to the kitchens for a snack when she’s halfway through her sandwich.
He brightens up, and immediately makes a beeline for her seat in the corner, where she won’t get in the way of any of the Hobs bustling about.
“Cassie!” He says.
“Madden,” she greets back, smiling. There’s definitely more proper greetings, but they’re in the kitchens and they’re both not exactly the type to stand on formality. “I haven’t been able to talk to you in weeks. Are you hungry?”
His mouth opens to answer, but then his face changes, from friendly to confused to a little shocked and mostly joyful, and then he winces and stays there. It’s a very large range of expressions to cross over his face in such a short time. She’s almost impressed.
“Madden?”
“Uh, Cassie?” He says, shifting from foot to foot. “Could you step out with me for a minute?”
Cass pauses at his careful tone and raises an eyebrow. She then asks the most crucial question of all. “Can I bring my sandwich?”
~~
“I’m going to put up a privacy spell,” Madden says when they’re out in the hall, still oddly fretful.
“Go ahead.” Cass says, and leans against the wall. He doesn’t seem to be in a rush, which means it’s not too much of a time sensitive issue. Madden flashes her a grin that edges on the canine, and begins to move his hands.
Cass likes watching people do magic, especially wards like these. It does something to the air, whispers through it in a distortion she knows other people can’t actually see. She knows Toby can see and touch magic if she concentrates, but she’s pretty sure her aunt perceives it differently from her. If Cassandra tried to grasp a spell in her hands it would pass through like smoke, insubstantial and hazy.
She takes a bite of her sandwich and lets her thoughts drift along as she waits. The air has been odd, lately. Not bad, odd, really, but odd like there’s something she can’t see because she doesn’t know how to look for it. It’s frustrating to be hitting this block, especially because it’s felt like her magic is coming a little bit easier for the past few weeks. A little quicker to respond, a little more eager to do what she wants it to.
Madden’s hands still, and when he looks at her she straightens and says, “What is it?”
“Cassie,” he says, still very carefully in a way that’s starting to grate a little. “Um. Did you know that dogs can smell pregnancy?” He smiles, in a very awkward, apologetic way, and spreads his hands placatingly.
Cassie raises an eyebrow. “Oh, is one of the courtiers pregnant? You don’t have to tell me who—unless it’s Arden, I guess, but I feel like we would know if she was seeing anyone–oh no.” A brief, horribly delightful thought hits her. “Is it Toby? Madden, you legally need to tell me if my aunt is pregnant, there’s a betting pool that spans all the way to Toronto.”
“It’s not Sir Daye.” Madden says. “Or Arden, or one of the courtiers. Cassandra, I’m smelling it on you.”
That’s. Confusing. Confounding. Some other C word that means the same thing. And also, kind of totally impossible? If it were anyone else, Cassie would raise an eyebrow at the statement, but not only is she on birth control, not only is she safe besides that, but her boyfriend can’t even have kids. And not in the kind of medical infertility way that could wind up with a fluke, but in the kind of way where he’d customized his alchemical transition so precisely that he’d been able make the decision to completely leave off the whole fertility thing until he actively wanted to try for kids. There’s not room for a fluke.
They’d had Conversations-with-a-capital-C about it, because this is the kind of thing you talk about when you’re in a relationship to make sure everyone’s expectations are the same, and also because Cass had thought Walther’s well-documented process for all of his alchemical tinctures and potions was very cool and smart and sexy of him and the point is Cassandra can’t be pregnant.
She’s not finished with her grad program and she’s swamped with the work of a Chatelaine reviving a household that was dead for a century and all of that doesn’t even matter because there’s no physical way for her to have gotten pregnant and–
All of that fades away for a second, and she stares at the curling smoke above a sconce across the hallway. They’ve been showing up more in the knowe since she started working here, creeping onto more and more walls since there became a need for them.
She stares at the smoke, the way it twists and curls and gutters soot, and she knows.
Madden’s hand lands on her shoulder, and she looks at his worried face and says, “I’m pregnant.” And despite her internal denial just seconds before, it doesn’t come out as a question but a factual, if bewildered, statement. A downside of being a seer: it’s really, really hard to live in blissful denial.
In doesn’t stop her from asking, “How the fuck did this happen?”
~~
Madden is a sweetheart, because he leads her to her office and makes her sit in her chair and then he dials Arden on his O’Leary issued phone and tells her to meet them there after swinging by the nearest all-hours pharmacy and Cassandra just kind of zones out for a long time until Arden portals in.
“Cass,” Arden says breathlessly, thrusting a crinkling plastic bag out to her with a complicated expression, eyes wide and eyebrows drawn together, like joy and sympathy have crashed together. “Is this good news or bad news?”
Cass takes the bag. “It’s impossible news, actually.” She says, and knows it for the non-answer it is.
“Okay,” Arden says, nodding furiously. “Okay, okay, um–if you decide it’s good news, then I’m going to throw a party for an auspicious addition to my Chatelaine’s household, and if you decide it’s bad news then I’ll hold your hand and help you make any appointments you need.”
Cass feels her throat tighten, and she says, “You’re making it really hard not to thank you right now.”
“It’s not needed, because this is what a good friend and liege does.” Arden says immediately. “I’m not offended at the thought, though.”
Cass nods, and says, “I’m going to go pee on what looks like at least ten sticks and then while we’re waiting I’m going to call Walther and we’re going to figure this out.”
And then if she leaves to have a panic attack in the bathroom for a little bit, well, that’s between her and the many glasses of water she’s going to have to drink.
~~
Walther picks up on the second ring, with a distracted greeting of, “Walther Davies, office hours ended at midnight,”
Cass kind of wants to cry, but instead she says, “Walther, it’s me.”
“Cass,” Walther says, surprised affection coloring his voice. “Is everything alright? I thought you were on duty tonight.”
“I am.” She says. “I was, I mean, I’m pretty sure Arden dismissed court? Or I guess Nolan might be covering for her, that would make sense.”
“Any reason why?” Walther asks, beginning to sound a little worried. Not too much, though, because she knows he has faith that she would have cut straight to the point if this were an emergency.
“Yeah, so, smelling pregnancies on people is apparently a Cu Sidhe thing, and now I’m in my bathroom waiting for like twelve tests to give me their results but I’m pretty sure I’ve already seen the answer. And you’re the only person I’ve been seeing and I need you to come over right now and help me figure out if one of us got cursed or something because otherwise I have no idea how this could have happened.”
There was a long silence. “Well.” He says, after a long moment. “I—yeah, I’ll pack my bag.” He takes an audible, shaking breath. “I—am going to wait to freak out about this until we’re in the same room. But I am going to freak out.”
“Please do,” Cass says, suppressing hysterical laughter. “Oak and ash, I don’t know whether I prefer if this ends up being a magical parasite or not.”
Walther does laugh, a bit, and then says, “Sorry, Cass, I need two hands to harvest some of the herbs I’ll need.”
“That’s fine.” Cass says, “Just. Hurry.”
“I will. Love you.”
Relief crashes over her, the release of anxiety alerting her to the fact that it was there in the first place. “You too.”
And then Cass is once again alone with ten minutes remaining on the timer on her phone. She takes a deep breath, gathers all of the little plastic sticks, and returns to her office.
Madden is pacing anxiously, while Arden is twisting her hands in her lap on the nice couch Cass has up against one wall.
“Are they—“
“Still ten minutes.” Cass says, sitting at her very comfortable desk chair. “I called Walther, he’ll be ready in five. Arden, are you—“
“Yes, I can make the trip.” Arden says. “How is he?”
“As confused as I am.” Cass tells her tiredly, beginning to arrange the definitely not sanitary collection on her desk.
Arden bites her lip and says, “How are you feeling?”
“Not great.” Cass admits. “I’ll feel better when Walther’s here and he can run tests to see if someone, like, cursed one of us.”
“Right.” Arden says. “Are you sure it couldn’t have just been an accident?”
Cass says, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure. Look—Walther can tell you more if he wants to, but I don’t want to share his personal stuff unless he tells me I can. You know him. He’s a really private person.”
“Alright.” Arden says, and then sighs and levers herself to her feet. “I’m opening the portal now.”
It hasn’t been five minutes yet, but Walther is efficient, and that estimate had been generous. Arden sketches a circle in the air, and her portal opens with the very faint scent of flowers and bark. Cass can see Walther just closing his alchemy bag before he glances up and hurries over to step through the gate.
“Hi.” He says, staring straight at Cass. “Forgive me, Queen Windermere, do you mind if I—“
“Go ahead.” Arden says immediately.
Walther is kneeling by her chair in an instant, and Cass really is in love with him, holy shit.
“Cassie, do you want us in the room?” Arden asks anxiously.
“I really don’t care at this point.” Cass says. “I would just like very much to figure out what’s going on.”
“Right, okay, diagnostic.” Walther says, but takes a moment to squeeze her hand before he unlatches his alchemy bag and begins pulling out neat little jars. “I usually have these half-brewed already, with the amount of fae kids running through Berkeley.” He uncorks a jar of viscous blue liquid and drops a few fresh herbs in and then mashes them around until they’ve broken down in the sludge. He then holds it out to her. “Cassie, can you please infuse this with some of your magic?”
“Yeah, okay,” Cass says. She’s pretty used to this process—when you spend a good chunk of your time with your unaffiliated alchemist boyfriend at a college, you end up needing to hold a lot of fae kids’ hands through stuff like this. She takes the jar in her barely shaking hand and channels just a bit of her magic into it, grapefruit and turpentine hanging in the air when she finishes.
Walther looks at it, nods, and then begins to activate it, chanting lowly in welsh until the sludge thins out into a proper liquid and begins to glow. Walther stares at the thing for a long, long moment, and then says, with the mystified tone of someone who was expecting an obscure curse or hormonal fluctuation, “Well, you’re about five weeks pregnant, it doesn’t seem to be a curse, and the father is a Tylwyth Teg with my exact magical signature and yet it’s still all very impossible.”
Cass groans and says, “What the fuck.”
And Walther says, sounding just as baffled, “You haven’t run into any firstborn, have you? That might explain why I can’t detect anything. I don’t think I have, but I have no way of knowing, so.”
“I don’t think so?” Cass says. “Not since Toby’s wedding, and the Luidaeg likes my sister enough to not go flinging magic on me without telling anyone.”
“Well, unless Oberon himself has decided we need to have a kid, I’m lost.” Walther says. Then, he pauses and winces, and Cass says fervently,
“I Do Not Want To Know.” And then, “Walther, if you know something about Oberon, possibly connected to Toby, you are not going to tell me. We are going to willful ignorance the hell out of this, babe.”
“Oh thank Maeve.” Walther says, shoulders slumping.
“Setting that aside for later, because what the hell, Walther,” Arden says pleasantly, “I’m still baffled as to why you’re both so sure this can’t have been natural?”
Walther sighs, removing his glasses to wipe at them with the hem of his shirt. “Alchemical transition allows for a much wider range of customization than a simple transformation spell. I decided a long time ago to leave the whole ability to have children until I actively wanted fo try for them. It seemed simpler. I physically cannot have children at the moment, and yet.”
“And yet.” Cass echoes with a sigh.
“Oh.” Arden says. Then, “How are you not freaking out more?”
“I still need to check myself over, to see if anything went wrong on my end.” Walther says tiredly, and unearths a corked jar full of faintly bubbling clear liquid along with one of his lancets. A quick prick, and then he squeezes a couple of drops of blood into the liquid. It immediately takes on the garnet color of freshly spilled blood, and fizzes up like vinegar added to baking soda. His magic rises in the air as he begins to cast, comforting ice and yarrow overwhelming the lingering traces of Cass’s own magic. After a moment, he stops chanting and the liquid stops fizzing and he says, “So, everything being normal feels worse, actually?”
Cass almost laughs. “Yeah! Yeah, it does, what the hell.”
“Well,” Arden says bracingly, “Magic is weird and I’ve seen things more impossible. Usually related to Toby, to be fair, which you both are.”
Cass’s timer goes off, and one glance at the array pregnancy tests confirms that they’re all positive. “So, despite the lack of explanations, it’s fair to say this is happening.”
“Looks like it.” Walther says, staring up at her with mirrored panic.
Cass kind of wants to cover her face and scream for a good long while, but instead she looks over at Arden and Madden and says, “Can we have the room?”
“Of course.” Arden says immediately.
“Call if you want us to come back, Cassie,” Madden says, and then they’re out of the room.
~~
“Right.” Cass says. “Right, right, right. Fuck.”
“Yeah,” Walther agrees. “Fuck.” Then, he leans forward to rest his forehead against her knee and he says, voice muffled, “Being perfectly honest, I’m freaking out.”
“Me too!” Cass says hysterically. “Glad we’re on the same page! Oak and ash, Walther, get up off the floor, we can sit on the couch.”
And then they move to the couch, and sit in silence while they process the situation together.
Walther says, after at least ten minutes, “Do you have any idea what you want to do?”
“No.” Cass says. “None. Do you have an opinion?”
“Cassie,” Walther says bluntly. “You’re the one whose body is going to be affected by this. I know what it’s like to be in a body that’s doing things you don’t want it to do. It‘s awful. If you say you don’t want this, that’s it, that’s the end of it, I’ll brew you a tincture right here and now or whenever you want.”
Cass struggles to articulate herself for a moment, and then gives up on it in favor of just saying her points as they come to her. “That’s reassuring, believe me, but I still want to know what you think. I don’t know what I want, but I know that if you’re not in I won’t be going through with it. I won’t raise a kid alone with how busy my life is right now. And if you don’t want to, that doesn’t have to be—forever. I know we haven’t talked that far ahead, but I want you in my future, Walther. If we decide not right now is the answer, okay, we can try again later if we want. I just—this isn’t an all or nothing decision, is what I’m saying.”
Walther leans into her side, and Cass leans right back, and he says, “I’m not bringing a hard no to the table.”
Cass breathes out a sigh, verging into a groan. “Oh, but that would make it so much easier to decide, babe.”
Walther snorts. “I want kids with you, Cass, I just thought it would be… later. I can maybe roll with the timing.”
“I’m scared.” Cass admits, staring up at one of the carved redwood designs set into the crown molding. “This is all kinds of impossible. I wasn’t expecting immaculate conception to be the way this would go. I wanted to finish my Ph.D program, and then I wanted to wait until things were more stable in Muir Woods, and dammit I wanted to get married first or at least decide not to. Don’t suggest we get married now, it’ll make it feel cheap.”
“We can wait.” Walther reminds her gently.
“Yeah but,” Cass says, and waves her hands around, “Look, I know being a changeling makes conceiving kids easier—look at my mom—but we’re fae. It’s never going to be a sure thing, and, just… what if this is the only chance we get?”
Walther says, “Are you seeing anything in the air?”
Cass sighs, and shakes her head. “Nothing far, and all paths are open, so that doesn’t help at all. Maybe I should talk to Karen.”
Walther says, “Will she tell your mom? Should we tell your mom?”
Cass says, immediately, “No! Oh god, my mom. I didn’t even think about how she might react. She’s been so weird about any of us dating, she definitely won’t be cool with this.”
“I’ve never been murdered by someone’s overprotective parent before.” Walther says bleakly. “It doesn’t seem like something I’d like.”
“Ugh. We need a pro-con list.”
“I feel like I should be objecting to that kind of decision making but actually, yes, that sounds fantastic.” Walther says, and Cass crosses the room briefly to retrieve a half-filled spiral notebook and a pen.
Thus armed, they bend their heads together to start figuring out a plan.
~~
“We’re not getting anywhere.” Cass says after the third time they reasoned themselves in circles. Sometimes, being the kind of people willing to debate things to death is not convenient. “Can you really not think of anything else to add?”
Walther pauses and doesn’t speak in a very shifty fashion.
Cass jabs him in the shoulder with the back end of the pen. “Walther.”
“It’s silly and a little callous and you may very well be offended.” Walther warns.
“Just say it.” Cass says. “Come on, do it. Throw your horribly offensive tiebreaker at me.”
“There is a not insignificant part of me that wants to go through with this just to see what happens. And maybe… keep track of it all. Pregnancies are so rare, and I’ve never heard of something like this.”
Cass keeps her face carefully blank and says, “You want to have a magic baby out of scientific curiosity.”
Walther coughs uncomfortably. “I guess you could call it that, yes.”
“You want to document my immaculate conception pregnancy so bad.” Cass says, lips twitching as she leans into his space. “Do you want to make charts, Walther? Would we publish a paper together? Will it be peer reviewed?”
“April and January are the only ones who would be available and knowledgeable enough to peer review,” Walther complains as he leans away from her teasing, a little pink in the face, “Two people is barely enough for a scientific journal—which faerie doesn’t have.”
“Yet.” Cass says smugly, very happy to watch him squirm. Then, she blinks, and says, “Wait, no, stop being hot, we have decisions to make.”
“I can’t help being hot,” Walther says, “To stop being hot to you I’d have to stop being smart and I’m not doing that.”
“You’re bad for my health.” Cassandra informs him primly, and then admits, very casually, “Also, the scientific curiosity angle may be more convincing than you thought it would be.”
Walther does a double take. “Seriously?”
“Hey, I’m not saying we won’t come up with some other reason later to not go through with it,” she warns anxiously, holding up her hands. “And I’m not very far along which gives us some time to change our minds, and there’s plenty of chances for this to go wrong on its own. But, you know what? Qualifiers aside, if you’re in, I’m in.”
Walther stares at her, jaw slack, for long enough that she starts to worry, and then his hands are on her cheeks and she’s being kissed so sweetly and, well. That makes things a little less terrifying.
~~
Walther has this… air of nervous joy around him, and Cass honestly feels the same, like, holy shit, she just decided to be a mom! Wow! God! What the fuck!
After a few minutes of kissing interrupted by a not-insignificant amount of nervous laughter, she pokes her head out of the office and is unsurprised to see Arden and Madden both pacing the halls.
“Hey,” she says, and two heads turn to look at her so fast she swears she hears a neck crack. “We decided to keep it.”
Arden’s face transforms into a dazzling picture of joy and wonder, and Madden darts forward with a bark of laughter to pull Cass into the hallway so he can hug her properly, lifting her up off her feet with the enthusiasm of it.
“I—“ Arden says. “Oh my god, this is—Cassie! You’re! There’s going to be a baby!”
“If everything goes well, and nothing else comes up to change things.” Walther agrees, and then Madden is putting Cass down to hug Walther, too, and she’s laughing at the look on her boyfriend’s face and she thinks, yeah, okay, we can do this.