Chapter Text
The Lamb stretched out on their bed, pleasantly achy and finally free of the bizarre fever that had plagued them for the last handful of days. Talk about a crash course in having sex with a vagina. Their current theory was that it was triggered by Narinder’s rut, but it wasn’t anything they were too concerned about to begin with.
Narinder was sprawled beside them, sound asleep. The Lamb didn’t actually fuck him into unconsciousness this last time, but considering how many times they had, he needed his rest.
The Lamb pressed a chaste kiss to the lid of his center eye. “I love you,” they whispered, then quietly prepared for their day. The flock had been without their leader since they shut themself in their hut. It was time to return.
The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when they drew hot water in the bath house. As much as they’d far prefer to bathe with Narinder when he woke, they had to wash the evidence from their body before they could walk among the flock.
The sweat, slick, and cum that decorated them all over sloughed off with soapy suds. They were a mess, especially between their legs. They gently emptied themself with their fingers with an embarrassed chuckle. They’d need to draw another bath to finish; the water was already too gross to soak in.
Sitting in their second tub of hot water, The Lamb took their time washing the rest of their body while it was still quiet. It was exactly what they needed. They should draw one for Narinder when he wakes up.
Once out of the water, they toweled themself dry, taking extra time with their wool. Once done, but before putting on their fleece, they glanced down at themself and decided it was time to switch back to their penis, if only to check if they still could.
A familiar voice hissed in their ear, “Not unless you want to lose the life in your womb.”
The Lamb’s heart dropped into the depths of their stomach. They slowly turned around to the Red Crown sitting atop their fleece on the shelf.
“What?”
The Crown floated into the air and slithered towards them, slipping easily into its snake form. It wound around The Lamb’s offered arm and rested its round head in the palm of their hand. Its tone was non-judgemental, merely informative and curious.
“In the womb you shaped for yourself,” it explained. “There is a spark of life in there. It may not survive either way, but it will surely die if you change your sex now.”
The Lamb stared blankly at the Crown. The air was as silent as the grave.
A kit. Or, a chance at one.
With the Lamb carrying the kit, it would be a -
A lamb.
The Lamb gripped the lip of the wooden tub, numb in the knees. Very little made them panic after years of running the cult and crusading into the Land of the Old Faith. They had seen and heard much, most from their own flock.
What they were feeling right at that second was undoubtedly panic.
“Crown,” they managed in a trembling voice. “What…?”
The Crown also used its powers to hold onto the tub, giving its bearer extra support. “It is your choice,” it said as it pushed the Lamb away from the tub and helped them kneel upon the stone floor. “I am merely informing you.”
The Lamb pressed the back of their hand to their mouth, nauseous.
“But if you want to give that life a better chance at living, you’d better calm yourself.”
It was right. They’d seen miscarriages caused by anxiety amongst their flock. They had to - to - deep breaths, first. Deep breaths. Feel the stone underneath, slick with perspiration. The smell of soap and damp wood. The air muggy with steam.
The Lamb clutched the wool over their heart. It’s what I’ve always wanted. I thought I could never have it. Tears fell from their snout to the wet floor. Can I have it? Can I raise a kit here? As Leader of the flock? As Shepherd of Souls? As a god? Their hands lowered to their belly. Can I - ?
The slide of thin scales curled under their chin and nestled against their collar bone. “Peace, Lamb,” the Crown said.
A wretched giggle bubbled from their throat as they brushed the Crown’s scales with their fingers. “But I…”
“Peace,” it chided. “You have faced greater foes, even prophecies of fate. I shall stand by you as I did then, no matter the decision you make.”
They closed their eyes. “Thank you.”
With several deep, clear breaths under their belt, The Lamb rose to their hooves and stared into empty space. “I want the child,” they admitted.
The Red Crown said nothing as it returned to its crown form and settled upon their head.
“But I don’t know if I can…”
It remained silent. It had given all the counsel it would for the day.
The Lamb wrapped their hand around their throat. I need to tell Narinder. They dressed themself on autopilot. I need to give a sermon. I need to check our stock of camellias. I need to talk to the chefs, and I need to check with the farmers. I need to tell Narinder.
They stood with one hand on the doorknob and tried to steady their trembling hands.
I need to talk to Ratau.
Narinder awoke alone in his bed. He blinked at The Lamb’s side and saw a piece of parchment. He sat up slowly, winced at the twinge in his hips after days of nonstop fucking, but at last the rut had passed. The light coming through the curtains was enough for him to read by.
Morning, Nari
I already gave a sermon today and took care of most of the chores. I have to go to Ratau’s to speak about something of importance. Fish feast for you on the table in the living room, and I put a hold on one of the rooms in the bath house and got the soap and towels ready for you. Love you.
-Lamb
The Lamb usually doodled on the notes they left him, but this one only sported a heart by his name. The penmanship was unmistakably their own, but there was a slight unsteadiness in the letters.
He looked outside and saw that it was early afternoon. A sermon, most of the chores, and a room in the bath house prepared already? His Lamb must have been in a hurry.
Though he did not care as much about his previous Vessel as The Lamb did, Narinder did allow a little concern to seep in - for The Lamb. If something happened to the old rat, they would be beside themself.
Until The Lamb returned, there wasn’t much to be done about it. He would make use of his hot bath and tend to the flock in their absence. A morning’s worth of rushed duties likely did not satisfy their followers after being missing for days.
He hesitated a moment as he set the note on the bedside table. The shaky letters, the premonition of something on the horizon... Narinder tried to force it out of his mind.
“Lamb!” Ratau smiled wide as he let The Lamb inside. “How are ye, little one?”
The Lamb grinned weakly. “Well…”
Ratau’s smile fell. “Now, doesn’t that sound good,” he said as he closed the door behind them. “Take a seat. Tell me what bothers ye.”
The Lamb first helped him start brewing his tea, only sitting when the heavy lifting was done. They nursed their hot, brewing cup and finally allowed the concern they had concealed since the bath house to resurface.
“Ratau…” They began, “I… may have done something. I won’t call it a mistake. But there are,” they swallowed, “consequences.”
Ratau gazed at them evenly and offered his hand, which they took. “You don’t beat around the bush often, and there’s no reason to do so with me. Speak plainly.”
They took a deep breath. “I’m pregnant.”
Ratau’s single eye went round.
“Possibly. It’s there, anyway. A few days old.”
Ratau did the math in his head. “Don’t tell me ye managed this at lamb mating season and didn’t expect yeself to get pregnant?”
“It’s what?”
Ratau pinched his brows. “Ye didn’t know.”
“No!” Then they rethought. They had focused on the important memories from before their vesselhood, the ones they could not replace, when they let themself ruminate on them at all. Now that they paused, it did sound vaguely familiar. “Fall is mating season. Shit. That explains things.”
“Do not tell me the details.” Ratau sighed and squeezed their hand. “So. What do ye plan on doing?”
The Lamb took his hand in both of theirs’, desperate for something solid to hold onto. “I… I want to keep it,” they said. “What I’m worried about is…” they turned their gaze to the table, “if I’m capable.”
Ratau waited patiently for them to explain.
“I have a cult to lead. I’m a god. I have a million and one things to do every day just to keep it all from burning to the ground. That’s an exaggeration, but it doesn’t feel like it. Can I raise a kit, give them a happy childhood? Can I give them the attention they need to be happy?” They bit their lip. “I don’t know if I can.”
“Ye talk like ye’d be doing it all yeself.”
The Lamb paused, ears tilting up.
“Won’t ye have that stray god of yours helping ye?” He pointed out. “And I, for that matter? And that same flock ye break ye back for?”
The Lamb’s lips twisted. “I can agree to the last two things…”
Ratau nearly bowled his own chair over when he shot onto his feet. “Do ye mean to tell me that rotten has-been god has abandoned ye and your kit?!”
“No! No! Well, I don’t know.” The Lamb eased Ratau back in his seat. “I haven’t told him yet. I just… I needed to talk to you about it.” They hung their head low. “I didn’t know where to go.”
The hut was quiet save for the crackle of the nearby fireplace. Then, the creak of a chair being scooched.
“Ay, ay,” Ratau whispered, “come here, Lambi.” He coaxed them to lean against his shoulder and he released their hands to rub their back. “I’ve got ye. Ye know I’ve always got ye.”
They sniffled into his shirt. “I… I’ve wanted a family since before… I’ve always wanted a kit. I thought about adopting after Narinder I married, but I didn’t because I don’t want to mess them up! Take on that responsibility only to fail!” They began to shake with their tears. “I want my kit to have everything!”
“And they will have it,” Ratau murmured into their wool. “Ye will make it so. I will make it so. His personality be damned, I’m sure even that stray of yours will make it so.” He leaned back to wipe their tears with his scarf. “Can’t say ye won’t mess up once in a while. That's how parenting goes, I’m afraid. But I know for certain,” he smiled bittersweetly at them, “that ye’d give that kit the best shot ye can.”
The Lamb burst into sobs. “I - I love you, Ratau,” they cried as they buried themself into his shoulder again.
“I know ye do, Lambi. I love ye, too. Very much.” He held them close and rocked them gently. “And if ye decide to keep it, ye know I’ll love that kit, too.”
“Thank you,” they mumbled.
“You’re welcome, little one.”
After their sniffles petered out, The Lamb stayed there, holding Ratau. “So… you’d be okay if I told the kit to call you grandpa?”
Ratau was silent for a solid beat, before he threw his head back and laughed from his belly. “I’d be honored - in fact, I’d be insulted if they didn’t.”
The Lamb chuckled as they drew back and winced at the stain they left on his shirt. “Good. Because, that's what I want you to be to them.”
Ratau blinked rapidly and uttered, choked up, “Ay.”
Narinder finished his rounds as the sun began to set. The cult was in surprisingly good shape considering the unplanned absence. Perhaps that could be attributed to the surprise holy day that kept them happy and out of trouble.
With nothing to immediately hold his attention, he immediately grew concerned with his Lamb’s disappearance. If something really did happen to that damned rat -
The gateway stone suddenly lit up and flowed with red like a pierced heart. The Lamb appeared first as a silhouette, then fully from the stone, shaking away the crimson from their eyes as they did so.
Narinder released a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding and quickly beelined towards them.
“Lamb.”
His Lamb’s ears perked up before they turned to him. In the low light, he could see the rims of their eyes were red, and not from blood.
“Nari!”
Narinder stopped an arm’s length away, made to reach for their face, then put his arms in his coat sleeves. “What happened?”
“Oh,” they tried to grin, but it was forced. “Let’s… get back home, first.”
He nodded silently and led them back to their hut and ignored all the followers that attempted to stop The Lamb. This meant that The Lamb had to excuse themself quickly to keep up. He opened the door for them and locked it shut behind them.
“Speak,” he said, concerned. “What happened?”
The Lamb took a deep breath, released it, then did it again. Narinder’s tail flicked behind him and hit the door as he walked towards them. They reached for him as he got close and he took their hands without hesitation.
“So, I have some news. From a reliable source,” they began, making eye contact and keeping it. “And… I don’t know how else to go about it, really. The crown told me I’m pregnant this morning.”
Narinder’s tail bristled with shock.
“You are what.”
“Pregnant,” they repeated. “Or, at least there’s a chance I am. It’s still very early, I could lose the kit before it goes any further due to early miscarriage. But, they’re there.”
Narinder stared at them with a tightly closed mouth. It was like he had to physically unhinge it in order to speak. “You are pregnant with a kit.”
“I’m pregnant with your kit.”
My kit.
More than that. “It would be a lamb.”
“Yes.”
They wouldn’t be the last one anymore.
Narinder did not let go of them, but did slowly pace the room with their hand in his. He was not a stupid cat, as much as some previous actions would declare otherwise. He had noticed The Lamb watching the growing families in the cult long enough to make his own conclusions. They wanted kits. Probably wanted kits before he was even in the picture as their husband. Why they never brought it up, he could only guess… but now would be a good time to ask.
“Do you want the kit?” He asked, if just to finally get their answer, which was a solemn nod. “Is there a reason you’re so nervous about telling me? And the fact you told Ratau, first.” Which stung, but he had to assume The Lamb had their reasons.
They fidgeted for a moment, looking marvelously like the young lamb that he had first met. “I wasn’t sure what you would think. And I was worried about some things that had to do with me.”
Narinder’s tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. What he thought? That would need a minute, but they could address the second thing. “Such as?”
They shut their eyes briefly. “Am I suited to be a parent? Would I be a good one, and could I take care of the kit with all of my other responsibilities?”
Narinder already knew the answer to that. “I assume thats what you talked to the rat about.”
“Yes.”
“If his answer was anything other than, ‘yes, you’d make a suitable parent’, I’d hunt him down for sport.”
That got a wry grin out of them. “Don’t threaten the kit’s grandpa.”
“Their grandpa?”
“And I won’t hear anything about it. But stop stalling,” they said and brought them both to a halt. “Narinder, do you want to be a father?”
It was a question Narinder never considered. When the thought did arise after realizing The Lamb wanted to be a parent, he was quick to shove it away and wait for them to bring it up first. But he had always assumed adoption would be the end-goal, which allowed time to discuss and prepare, not that they would have the kit themselves.
He lowered his muzzle and stared at the floor. “I… know you want to be a parent.”
The Lamb’s expression fell an inch, which he knew meant that inside their stomach had plummeted to their ankles.
“I…” Do I want to be a father? “I do not know.”
The Lamb - His Lamb, was fighting tears with a passive, blank expression, but he could see it in their eyes.
Another lamb. A kit. His kit. Their kit. Both of theirs’.
The hard truth was that Narinder was very good with children. He could handle the cults growing cumulative brood with ease. And the children liked him, for whatever weird reason. It was a fact that vexed him for years until he begrudgingly accepted it.
And… he enjoyed watching over the kits. As much as he enjoyed raising Aym and Baal.
“I’d like to find out.”
The Lamb blinked in surprise. An errant tear escaped. “You do?”
“Yes,” he said as he wiped their tear, only for it to be replaced with more. “I do.”
He had thought he wasn’t suited for marriage, either. Especially not to The Lamb, after all the mistakes that had been made, but the two of them made it work. It would take time for him to process, but they could make this work, too.
The Lamb’s lips trembled. The two of them met for a warm embrace, faces buried in the crooks of each others’ necks.
“Thank you, Nari,” The Lamb whispered. “For giving this a chance.”
“For you, Lamb,” he replied, “anything.”
Chest to chest, heart to heart, they shifted even closer. “I love you.”
Narinder smiled gently into their wool. “I love you, too.” And he thought about the life growing within them. As I’m sure I’ll love the kit.