Archive of Our Own

7 WEEKS

Oftentimes, a dragon is so offended by what they deem their rider's poor decision making that they simply refuse to let the rider mount as early as the morning after conception.

This is the most common way that riders realize the true depth of the dragon bond on their physical bodies, and one of the more common ways leadership discovers rider pairings, as these dragons are often all too willing to gossip.

• The Only Pregnancy Book You Need FOR RIDERS ONLY! Edition (Updated in 603 for the Modern Rider!)

"And, uh, there's only really a mender involved, you know, cause we don't have one here, so there's only one if it's high risk, or like…" the so-called healer trailed off. Lilith knew what he was going to say next if he hadn't caught himself "or a once-in-a-generation signet, or a general's daughter." She kept her stare on him as he wilted under the unsaid words and then continued. "And you're actually not high risk, you're healthy and the magic actually should help with um, symptom management, and you're young, and —"

"Thanks, I have to go." Lilith kept her tone icy, and he squirmed as she knew he would. He could barely be out of school. Of course, so was she. But still.

"OK, well, let me know if you have any questions," the boy said, shuffling out the door before she could have asked a question if she did have one. She couldn't follow him, as naked as she was. Waist up, but still. Not enough to yell out the door and chase him down and demand an actually experienced healer and better service. But he was right, wasn't he? What more could be done but to wait?

She bound her bindings as angrily as she could without causing additional pain to the soreness that had been there for weeks now. Weeks while she wondered and waited, for what? For this jackass to tell her to wait some more?

The books had recommended looking for a midwife. This morning, Lilith had no intention of listening to that advice. But now, now that it was confirmed and real, and the healer was an adolescent, well, time to find some old wizened witch who would at least be a bit more experienced with this sort of thing. After she got her top back on.

"Congratulations?" Aimsir asked absentmindedly, likely just tuning in from a hunt.

"It's happening." Lilith replied. "How long do I have?"

"Oh it's usually about nine months for humans, but you're what, a few weeks —"

"How long before I can't ride?"

"Are you planning to lose both of your legs in this endeavor?" Aimsir asked.

Lilith sighed. "You've had what, nine riders by now, did they never stop?" she asked. Maybe there was a glimmer of hope. This didn't have to be the end of her career, the end of all she and Asher were planning.

"They were all men."

"None of them had wives who were riders?"

"Some did, and kids too. And they had hair and eyes and everything. Real human beings and all that."

"And? What happened?" Lilith ignored the joke. "None of them thought about this stuff or talked to you about it, ever?"

"Not once," Aimsir said. Of course. Stupid fucking men, Lilith thought.

"Fuck," Lilith said.

"I can ask around if you —"

"No, no. I have to talk to Asher first."

"Of course," Aimsir said obsequiously, and Lilith laughed.

"Perhaps he will tell his dragon — oh wait, that's right. You married a scribe," Aimsir taunted. Or more likely, tried to distract her. Lilith could feel her heartbeat racing and she knew Aimsir could too.

She didn't have to worry about Aimsir telling the others she was pregnant because she already trusted her dragon with so much more.

Now to tell Asher.

She planned the appointment just before she had leave so she wouldn't have to wait to tell him. But of course, she still did have to wait, because she could never just leave. And to be fair, this was suspiciously close to her last weekend leave.

"Was it your ankle?" Ulysses asked as she pinned her squad's schedule to the board.

"Huh? Sure," she said.

"The healer?" he asked. "You went to the healer and now you're taking leave? Sorrengail?"

"Sorry, I … just noticed I made an error on the schedule. Anyway," she took the paper down as if she needed to correct it, even though she did not. "No. It wasn't my ankle. I can still ride. But I'm taking the leave anyway. Dismissed." She turned to the paper with her pen to make the dismissal clear, but she couldn't even be bothered to pretend to fix the schedule, and she stuck it back up. Thankfully he'd gotten the message and walked away.

Another waste of time when she should be in the air.

Then there was the last minute packing she had skipped in favor of sleep (unusual last night, but now completely logical.) And then, after all that, he was still a flight away.

That was what had gotten them into this mess in the first place, wasn't it? They'd fallen in love when she was stationed for a rotation in Calldyr after graduation, and he was a scribe in the Royal Library. And then she was reassigned to Ruel in Deaconshire.

And he wasn't.

The way to get stationed together was to be married, and so, ever the practical pair, they married. She would still have to finish out her year in Ruel, another few months, but then she would get preference to be with him for their next assignment.

According to the plan, Asher would get as much as he could out of the Royal Library, and then they would go to the Tage Mountatains, maybe Montserrat, somewhere on the border where they could sneak across for firsthand research. They could figure out what all the Library's secretive scribes were hiding, and fight it, or at least prove it. Then, they'd revel in their success and live a happy domestic life wherever their travels lead.

That was the plan, as of yesterday at least.

By the time she arrived in Calldyr, it was late. The palace guards didn't bat an eye—they'd seen Aimsir touch down, and they knew her well. The Scribe quarters weren't an entire wing, but she was quiet in the corridor anyway, and she used magic to unlock his door and then slip past the ward into his apartment. The magic for the locks used to be enough, until he started keeping his own research, and then Lilith insisted on the extra measure of security.

He was asleep, but that was okay. This was the routine, every few weeks, when she had leave. He could see her schedule in the Rider's quarters at the Palace, and she knew he had, because there was a kettle in the ashes of his fireplace and a letter on the table with her name on it. She poured the chamomile, she was pretty sure the books on pregnancy said that one was okay, and she trusted Asher had read them even more closely than she had.

The letter covered the last week or so—it would've taken longer to mail—and it wove together the stories of his daily life and his love for her. She tried to write to him, but it was never so eloquent. Packing she could skip when she was tired, but she didn't need sleep as much as she wanted to read every word he wrote.

Plus, all the time they'd spend talking would be about things that couldn't be written. For better or worse, it was less incriminating for a search to reveal an in-depth ranking of his favorite parts of her body, than the external threats they discussed in hushed tones.

She read and marveled and blushed, and when she got to the end, she folded it and put it in an interior pocket of her rucksack. She took a quick shower, threw on one of his tunics, and climbed into bed.

His body responded to hers, even if he'd slept through the running water and the fumbling mage light. He curled around her, pulling her close, wrapping her in his arms. She couldn't help but notice that this time, one of his hands went over her belly.

---

In the morning, he made breakfast before she woke up, and was only a little alarmed when she declined the plate he brought to her in bed.

"So is a no to breakfast, a yes?" he asked with a grin, leaning in the doorway, eating the eggs.

"Stop smiling!" Lilith said, though in the moment, she couldn't stop the grin on her own face. On her last leave she had worried, but he never had. He would be a great father, there was no doubt. But wasn't the timing terrible, and weren't the circumstances not ideal?

But when she nodded at him in confirmation and his eyes lit up even more, it felt the opposite, like this was what they wanted, now, not in the seven-to-ten years they'd discussed when talking about children.

"Lilith!" He crossed the room quickly and hugged her tight. "We're—you're— it's, it's happening. Wow."

"Yes," she said, and then told him about the anticlimactic healer encounter, and how she was going to track down a midwife.

"Winifred!" Asher said. In the week they'd been apart, he had befriended the palace midwife, apparently. "I'll introduce you. I know we looked at those books last weekend but I had so many more questions. I told her my sister was pregnant and I mean, I already have a reputation for being curious and nosy, so it worked. I didn't mention it in the letter in case you weren't."

Lilith laughed again. It was so easy to laugh here, with him. Everything felt lighter.

Except her stomach. She excused herself quickly, but didn't make it far, and vomited into the sink. The tea, maybe? She'd been careful not to eat anything but maybe eating would help. It felt like it might, but then wasn't that just adding more vomit fuel?

Asher politely made himself scarce, and returned from his office with a book. The tiny office room was a scribe standard, big enough for a desk and a bookshelf, both of which, along with the floor, were piled with books. The walls were papered with notes and reminders and proud copies of his published postings.

The book he carried was one they had borrowed last weekend, when certainty was still on the horizon, when she could pretend it was all hypothetical.

He turned to a page that said NAUSEA in big letters. Lilith rolled her eyes, but still took the seat next to him.

8 WEEKS

A healer may recommend against riding. While it is second nature to you, the growing fetus cannot withstand a barrel roll or fire fight without magical intervention. Heed your healer's discretion, unless your dragon feels otherwise, as ignoring them could lead to both you and the healer feeling the weight of the Empyrean, or more likely a quick blast.

• The Only Pregnancy Book You Need FOR RIDERS ONLY! Edition (Updated in 603 for the Modern Rider!)

The next weekend, she managed to have 24 hours off in between shifts, and though her body demanded sleep, and she would normally sign up to be on call, she was desperate to talk about it with Asher, not because only he knew, but because he was him.

He would remind her that this was part of the plan, just a bit earlier than expected. That she was going to be okay. That he was going to be okay. That Navarre was going to be okay.

Going to see him also meant flying. The barrier between them was something she was now clinging to: that feeling of being in the air, of being so connected to Aimsir, of living her dream.

She was terrified that would be taken from her too soon.

Aimsir, on the other hand, had already survived enough near-miss in-flight vomiting that the dragon was getting wary.

"The books say the vomiting will stop at the thirteenth week," Lilith tried to reassure her dragon, who scoffed.

"The books said you could use calculations to avoid pregnancy," Aimsir retorted and Lilith sighed, choosing to enjoy her time in the air rather than dwell on that. She had plenty of nights alone in her bunk for dwelling, but her time in the air felt so limited.

When she arrived, she banked the fire and slipped into bed. There was a letter, but she was so tired, and he was so warm. He pulled her in until she was completely nestled in, and she fell asleep to his murmured welcome.

In the morning, when she awoke to retch into a more acceptable drain, she noticed more: books strewn everywhere, piles of paper that weren't there last time. Had there been a breakthrough of some sort? Worse, was he being investigated?

She followed the clutter to his office and opened the door.

Lilith stood and looked in, curious. The small room, usually full of piles of books and paper notes pinned to the walls, was empty save for a rocking chair in the corner.

She froze, and then felt his hand on her shoulder.

"Oh, gods, is it too much? I'm sorry! I mean, I know anything can happen, I just, you know how I am, I got carried away. I can totally put the books back," he said.

"No," Lilith said in a near whisper, "It's perfect." Still, even as she said it, the tears were not only sentimentality but sadness, anger. Why couldn't this have happened in five years? Why was his life being almost literally torn apart for this? Why was hers?

"Oh okay, good. I guess this is one of those like, hormone moments," Asher said, and while any other day Lilith would have loathed blaming her hormones for anything, as she wiped her eyes, she was happy for the excuse.

"I don't think I've ever seen you cry," he said quietly, and a bit uncomfortably.

There was nothing to be said to that.

_______

Asher worked that day, and while it wasn't unusual for her to follow him and sit in the public area to read or do her own reports, today she stayed in his bed, drifting in and out of sleep.

He returned for lunch, bringing food, and he found her in the rocking chair, looking out the window, lost in thought or conversation with Aimsir.

"Aimsir is out there," Lilith said without turning. Asher liked to think he was stealthy, but you could never beat a rider. He sometimes wondered if that was something he would need to work on, for all of their plans. Luckily, there were no riders in the Library, and his low levels of stealth had gotten him this far.

"Oh, there," he pointed at the brown speck.

"Yep," Lilith said. Normally she would have added an "obviously" or something sarcastic. But she seemed so tired.

"I brought food. I checked the book for what you're allowed to eat, oh, and I got some extra tonics from Winifred that she said might help," Asher offered instead. That got her attention.

"For your sister, right?" she asked.

"Yeah, sorry, um, should've been more clear. But I haven't told anyone," Asher said.

"Maybe we can just not tell anyone at all. And then I'll just come back from a couple days of leave, and say 'oh, I have a kid now.' No one would dare ask questions." Lilith gave a long sigh, as if responding to the obvious answer. Her voice quieted. "I want this so badly. More than anything. But I want so many things." Asher put a hand on her leg.

He didn't laugh or explain it away, or worse, try to drag an explanation out of her. She did not always have the words for why she wanted, she just knew. Asher had the words, but best of all he knew when to say them and when not to.

It had been one of the reasons she fell for him so quickly. She had dated many riders, or rather gone on dates with them. First dates. Because Lilith made a point of asking about kids on a first date, even if the date was instant coffee after a one night stand. She was not one to waste time, and she knew she wanted kids.

Most of the dates were immediately uncomfortable, and several burst out laughing, thinking it was a joke that Lilith Sorrengail could want something so domestic as children.

Lucas Emmetterio in her last year at Basgiath at least tried to understand. He clearly thought he was genuinely helping her when he said, "Lil, you know with a baby, you have to like, hug it. And tell it good job even when it doesn't do a good job. Because it's an infant, not a subordinate."

"Don't call me Lil," was the last thing she said to him before closing the door in his face. At least the sex had been good. He left the mug on her doorstep.

When she met Asher, he gave an easy, unequivocal yes, and conversation flowed so naturally after, that at the end of the night she almost asked him again because surely he misheard her the first time, he couldn't be so perfect.

A month later, over a wine filled dinner, she would tell him about her other dates and how confused they'd been. He laughed and said it was their loss.

Half a year later, in the silence of a late night, she would ask him why she wanted so fiercely, not just to be a mother but to ride and to find justice and to do it all. Why the yearnings of her brain and body and soul made no sense to anyone but him it seemed. He held her through the morning and told her that everyone wants, but maybe some people are too afraid to follow through. And that he wanted her forever, and in close proximity, and so would she marry him? 

Back in the now, Asher, correctly, changed the subject entirely, putting food into her hands (bland, tasteless, but maybe-not-instant-vomit, food) and leaning against the wall to eat his own.

"Today, we got a new guy, he seems like he's in on it already though," Asher said around a mouthful of sandwich.

They talked about the mystery, the conspiracy: why books were so guarded, why some were removed altogether. Asher often recorded the intake of books from around Navarre that were never shelved. A few he ferreted away — a history of his family, some encyclopedias of the isles he hoped to visit one day, fairy tale books for their future children, a sign language compendium — before finding out that another scribe who did the same was executed.

Suddenly he wasn't just recording intake shipments, he was a cog in some grand conspiracy.

He told Lilith everything. They made their plan. And now here they were.

They talked and ate and laughed and when he had to return to work, she wrote him a letter — well, as a rider, it was more of a missive than a letter — and then took a nap, making sure Aimsir would wake her when it was time to go.

Thanks for lunch. Would like to meet Winifred next time I'm here. Ask her when I have to stop riding. Love you.

10 WEEKS

Should your dragon deem you unable to mount, library duty or record keeping are preferred over latrine duty or dishes based on smell alone. Smell is a trigger for many nausea related symptoms! Leadership, especially male leaders, often do not question these types of requests for fear of their uniforms being soiled at any mention of vomiting. You could also ask for a healer's note. 

• The Only Pregnancy Book You Need FOR RIDERS ONLY! Edition (Updated in 603 for the Modern Rider!)

Her next leave wasn't for two weeks. She would have three days off though, and she would savor it. Even if that meant three days of sleeping, it would be three days of sleeping in Asher's bed, so much more comfortable than her own, and with Asher, in both meanings of the word. And the paperwork for their next assignments was available, so they would get to complete that. Lilith liked a plan, and that would solidify the next three to five years of their lives.

Plus, it meant she would get the answer to her question, for better or worse. Asher wrote back that the meeting with Winifred was secured, but did not answer her question. Maybe it was for the best, not knowing, so she wasn't counting down the days. On the other hand, she was beginning to fear it was already too late, that she should've stopped day one and the child-healer was too intimidated to tell her. Or worse, it was simply common knowledge she didn't know.

She was counting down the days to week 13, when the nausea would supposedly subside.

Aimsir cursed. "You're lucky you can just wind that away," the dragon muttered down the bond.

"Love you too," Lilith shot back, wiping her mouth.

Asher was waiting for her on the flight field, and he hugged her tightly. He had managed to get off of work for the same three days, and was beyond thrilled that he could introduce Winifred and Lilith. Lilith would have preferred to be a nameless cog in the patient carousel, but she also wanted real answers and real experience. So she would grin and bear it. Well, she was Lilith, so she probably wouldn't grin.

On the way to the infirmary, Lilith considered what she was about to find out. Somehow, this was more harrowing than the initial appointment. Perhaps because she was pretty sure she knew what the first one would be. Also perhaps because at week seven she wasn't yet completely exhausted, overly moody, weirdly achy, and her feet hadn't started swelling yet.

Since all these things were now occurring, Lilith found herself panicking. It was if the hallway was getting narrower the more they walked, as if Asher's cheerful chatter was becoming a buzz, as if she was sweating in the chill of the stone-lined underground hallway.

She reached for Aimsir. Asher's hand gripped hers tighter as he noticed something was off. She breathed deeply and thought of Basgiath, the reading room in the rider's quadrant. The smell of books and leather, the feel of being in community, that her people were there and there for her. Maybe even there joking about her reading habits and how she might marry a scribe and wouldn't her legacy be wasted on scribe babies? And the laughter. And Aimsir's power wending through the tomes and the weapons on the wall.

She was grounded, and she smiled at the thought and the success. She squeezed Asher's hand and he relaxed. At Basgiath, she had tried to ground in her home, but her home was never so perfect as safely studying with friends juxtaposed with the challenge and adventure of each day. Once she realized that her home was not where she grew up, she mastered the art of grounding quickly, much to the chagrin of her squadmates who thought they could outdo her in at least one thing.

They found Winifred in her office, and offered her the lunch they'd brought.

Winifred inspected the sandwiches and then turned to Lilith, but spoke first to Asher with no preamble. "Not your sister, then? Ever?"

"No," Asher said sheepishly, but Lilith was glad and a little surprised his deception actually worked.

"You're 10 weeks along?" Lilith nodded. "Symptoms?"

"Nausea. Exhaustion. Mood swings," Lilith admitted. 

"Nosebleeds!" Aimsir chimed in.

"Nosebleeds?" Lilith said. She'd thought that was just the altitude.

"Normal, but certainly not fun. Have you been drinking the tonic I sent?"

Lilith nodded again. "I'm not sure that it's helping, but…"

"It's not for you, it's for the baby. Well. Let me take a step back. It is for you. Because the baby is taking from you, this replenishes what the baby takes. It should also help with the nausea, but even if it doesn't, the baby's getting what they need and so are you."

"Thanks," Lilith said. She liked the woman's directness, there was no trailing off, just facts. 

"What outpost are you at?" Winifred asked.

"Ruel. No midwives that I know of and I wasn't about to ask around."

"Gods, the program there is dismal," Winifred agreed. Lilith worried the midwife might have chided her for not looking harder or doing more to find care, but Winifred didn't.

Lilith liked her very much.

They talked more about her experience thus far, and Winifred was clinical without being uncaring. She mentioned that she'd not only delivered more than 100 babies already, but that her youngest child was eighteen months, so she had been on the other side of the table not long ago.

The midwife felt around Lilith's belly, without making her undress (thank you very much junior healer, Lilith thought) and told her everything seemed normal and fine.

Lilith was frankly more at ease now, with her future in this woman's very capable hands, than she had been since the morning after the conception. So when Winifred said, "Do you have any questions for me?" and looked Lilith in the eye, she almost forgot how nervous she was to ask.

"When do I have to stop riding?"

"Can't answer that."

Lilith didn't know whether to sigh in relief, or be angry she'd come here and still couldn't get an answer. "It's between you and your dragon. Yours has been taking care of the fetus so far, it seems, if you're still in the air."

Lilith did not understand. "Aimsir, what the hell is she talking about?"

"Lilith, you're flying at altitude doing barrel rolls. The thing in your uterus is like a little glass pebble. I just make sure it doesn't get tossed around too much. It's far squishier than glass, but the metaphor stands."

"You what?"

"Make sure it doesn't — oh. With magic, I'm in your uterus. Keeping your child safe," Aimsir said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Lilith had never considered her dragon knew the word uterus. "You seem very attached to it. And me. so, it seemed like the right thing to do," Aimsir continued. Lilith was frozen, not realizing the care Aimsir had been giving all along.

"Thank you," Lilith said and turned to Asher and Winifred, who, upon realizing she was lost in the bond, were discussing names already. Lilith hadn't dared to think that far ahead. But maybe she could.

"You should," Aimsir encouraged. "And if you're really thankful, you'll put Aimsirachenachalacherachatachmenachalocherach at the top of the list."

"I'll write you a thank you note instead. Hell, I'll have Asher write one, he's much better at that sort of thing."

"He really is," Aimsir agreed and Lilith rolled her eyes.

Lilith and Asher walked back to the scribe apartments in a great mood. Lilith was thrilled to have Winifred and Aimsir agreeing that the glass pebble was doing alright.

In the apartment, she pulled the location assignment paperwork that would decide their future out of her rucksack.

They filled out the basics in companionable silence.

"Is Montserrat still our first choice?" Lilith asked. "Or where did that new guy come from? Was he somewhere on the frontlines?"

Lilith expected a quick answer, but instead Asher set his quill down.

"I meant to ask, are we still planning to go to a border location?"

Lilith narrowed her eyes. "Are you about to tell me we're not?"

"I'm so glad you can ride and I still want to figure all of this out and save the world. And we will, but if we're picking a location based on its likelihood to be attacked, and we're going to have a tiny baby, it's not like the kid can say if they want to be in high risk —"

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"You're right, of course," Lilith said, a tear she refused to cry stinging her eye. "I can come here. Building rapport with the king will go a long way."

"That's a great way to look at it," Asher said. "Maybe we get promoted early and that gives us the access we need when we do go to the border."

"Yeah. I kind of wanted to go to a border town now though. See it for myself."

"I know," he says. "Me too. I wanted to be the one sending the books to intake!" he said, pretending to shake his fist with a laugh. The corners of Lilith's mouth turned up and he continued, "We'll do it, my love. Just, once the kid is old enough to at least carry a slingshot." She laughed now, quietly but freely, and leaned into him, her tears marking his shirt. He wrapped an arm around her.

"We're going to make it," she reassured herself. "This is just a detour."

"As soon as it's walking we'll be out there fighting venin together," he said with a flourish and a squeeze of her arm. She laughed again.

"Venin? Really?" She was incredulous now, the tears gone.

"Maybe! I've been reading some of the storybooks I got for our future kids," Asher said. "Lots of venin talk. They're way scarier than I remember."

Lilith smiled but said, "I'm going to have to screen these books or you're going to give the kid nightmares."

WEEK 13

"I stopped riding when I got a nosebleed on my dragon. He was so humiliated to have my blood on him for a non-fatal injury that he wouldn't speak to me for a week! Now that I'm retired, I think I can say it was one of the better weeks of my life." (REAL Story from a READER RIDER Interview)

• The Only Pregnancy Book You Need FOR RIDERS ONLY! Edition (Updated in 603 for the Modern Rider!)

"Look at you, keeping down crackers," Aimsir said. "You're all grown up."

"Don't jinx it," Lilith muttered, not feeling much better, but at least not actively puking.

She had been considering their plan about living in Calldyr. She didn't feel uneasy about the decision when she submitted the forms to her superior officer, but she had put Montserrat down as her third choice. Just in case.

She hadn't told Asher at the time, but she felt like it was important to now, in case they did get stationed there.

But the plan otherwise was solid: working their way up the ranks would surely open them to more information. While it would be nice to see beyond the borders with their own eyes, being privy to the conspiracy could afford them more ways to stop it. But if they did wind up in Montserrat, and they did pretend to be captured by gryphons and explore Poromiel, well, she would do it with a baby.

"I can't wait until we're not a flight away," Asher said, nearly jumping on her in excitement.

"You could always get a horse," Lilith said. "Then just a few days' ride every couple of days. Who needs a job?"

He laughed. "I do have to tell you something. Just in case," Asher said. Lilith braced herself. Had Winifred told him something was wrong? Was something wrong? He took a deep breath. "I put Montserrat as my third choice. So if we wind up there, it's my fault."

Lilith spun on him, and he expected the full wrath of the infamous daughter-of-generals. But he had never once winced in its' fury, and this time it never came. Instead it was another laugh.

"Asher, love," she said. "I did the same." While he hadn't tensed up too much, he did give a small sigh of relief.

"Oh thank the gods," he said. "I just thought, you know, if it's meant to be that we're out in the field this early, you know, I wanted to leave us that chance and let the gods decide."

Lilith rolled her eyes. Asher was a bit more religious than she was. He usually invoked the gods when he didn't want to make a decision himself, and while it lead to a lot of Lilith eye-rolling, it probably saved him from the overthinking and anxiety that accompanied her own decision making. And yet it lead them to the same place.

This time around, Lilith visited with Winifred on her own while Asher worked. The woman was older than her, but not as old as her mother, and she seemed wise, and discreet. Lilith still hadn't told anyone at Ruel, and while she knew Asher was bursting at the seams, word would travel quickly. And she still didn't plan to, despite her leathers getting tighter already.

"When will I be showing enough that I'll have to tell people?" Lilith asked.

"You never have to tell people. You can tell them you're just eating a lot." Lilith was pretty sure that was a joke, since it was so similar to the idea she's had, even if the older woman didn't laugh. "If you're still worried about your work, I would decide when you're planning to stop because that will be the first question everyone asks, unfortunately."

"I'm still asking it," Lilith said. "I know you said you can't decide for me, but surely there's some way to know? They go on about getting us paired off to procreate but I don't know that I've ever seen it." That was a lie. She had seen it at her first outpost. A woman had been grounded for months it seemed, and Lilith remembered thinking that something must have gone terribly wrong.

Now, she wasn't so sure. Maybe a few months off was necessary. Maybe it would be nice.

"Some dragons ground their riders quickly. Some riders want time off of work to reduce stress in pregnancy. This is where it does help to be a rider, because leadership is so interested in your kids that you still get paid. Usually there's a point where you physically can't mount. And after, if there's a mender around, you can get back to it relatively quickly physically, but it can take time to adjust at home."

"So I just...stop one day?" Lilith said, hoping the despair wasn't as evident as it was.

"You've got a signet. They can put you in a tower doing that. You can recharge mage lights or use lesser magic to help in the kitchens. You can recruit in nearby villages."

Lilith almost choked on "a signet" — did Winifred not know what her signet was? Had Asher left out the tiny detail of her last name, the one he was in the process of taking? Lilith had stopped being humble virtually the minute she crossed the parapet, when her reputation proceeded her at Basgiath, both of her posts and every room she walked in to. Except for this one, apparently.

Winifred's husband was a mender. It was easy, and perhaps more logical for him not to be in the air. And maybe it would seem like Lilith could stand in a tower and direct the storms like a conductor, but that had never been her way. She was in the storms, weaving them, calling up winds and lightning and more in her wake and her thrall.

"Oh, have I bruised your rider ego?" Winifred said, somehow without a hint of sarcasm. Lilith took affront to that because it wasn't her rider ego, it was her everything. But maybe that was a rider ego, and she was nothing more than it now.

Whatever the look on Lilith's face said, Winifred continued. "Parenthood is the great equalizer. There's no rider or scribe or healer or civilian when a newborn cries in the night. There is only love. And exhaustion."

Lilith kept her mouth shut. It was kind of nice, maybe, to not have to live up to her name here. The Sorrengails weren't exactly known for being excellent parents or anything. But for a brief moment Lilith thought maybe the midwife really had never heard of them. But no, she lived in Navarre, she knew. She just didn't care. It was … refreshing. The way Lilith thought, at one point, her whole life could be: a blank slate.

But that slate had always had something on it. First her parents, then her signet. She thought perhaps she was starting a new one with Asher, but even then, she wasn't the director of her own destiny — this tiny glass pebble had taken her full attention, her full focus, possibly her future.

But this time, it wasn't public knowledge, it was just hers and Asher's. And maybe Aimsir's. No one else had to know why she made her decisions. For now. For as long as she could stay in the sky.

WEEK 17

In one instance, a young dragon was so upset that her rider was "glowing" and she was not, that the dragon returned to the Vale until the child was four months old and the mother's hair was falling out.

**This is a natural occurrence and nothing to be afraid of! Check out chapter 7 of our next book "The Only Baby Book You Need FOR RIDERS ONLY Edition with exciting updates for the Modern Rider!" coming out in 604!

• The Only Pregnancy Book You Need FOR RIDERS ONLY! Edition (Updated in 603 for the Modern Rider!)

Lilith decided, whether it was cowardly or efficient she didn't care, that she wouldn't tell anyone at Ruel. The assignment to Calldyr with Asher had been approved, and she would be there before she needed to tell anyone. Still, the not-telling was getting harder and harder to accomplish. Rider leathers were not forgiving. There wasn't a bump, but there was enough that she had requisitioned new flight leathers, and no one dared question her.

At one point, she planned to spend more time in the gym as some sort of excuse for going up a size, but she couldn't be bothered to keep up the farce. Instead she relied on withering glares and completely ignoring most other riders. Lilith Sorrengail being a standoffish bitch, or as she sometimes preferred to call it: "a private person," was not new. Quite frankly, she enjoyed using the reputation to her advantage. This wasn't the first time it was useful and it wouldn't be the last.

Her commanding officer knew she would be leaving soon due to the reassignment, and because he was leader in the Navarrian military complex, instead of offloading her responsibilities, he increased them. When she finally made it to Calldyr again, she was exhausted.

Asher was up waiting for her. It wasn't unheard of, but it felt different this time. He hugged her close and helped her undress. Surely she wasn't that helpless, but she didn't reject it. She was so exhausted, and she felt so suddenly vulnerable. Plus, bending over meant instant heartburn, and she'd had more than enough of that lately. And Asher wouldn't hold weakness against her. It was one of the benefits of marrying a scribe, she supposed, or just a genuinely kind person.

They talked about everything and nothing but she couldn't stop yawning. She didn't even consider the chamomile tea anymore, and she would take his letter back with her to read in her own room. Their small rituals were changing. Even climbing into bed felt too different, bile rising as she tried to get comfortable. She had never been uncomfortable with Asher.

Finally, he asked if it would help to sit up, and she sighed. It would. She made her way to the room that was formerly his office. He walked with her, and she glared. "I'm not an invalid," she said.

"I know, it's just…" before he could finish the sentence, she understood. The room was no longer completely bare.

Under the window, perfectly framed in the moonlight, was a crib.

Lilith gave a sharp intake of breath.

"I was going to wait until tomorrow," Asher said. "Just, you'll be here soon, and I wanted everything to be ready, and I hate just waiting around in between, not able to help you at all. It's like the chair all over again, but I mean, I'm really bored here."

"Thank you," she said with a laugh. She sat in the rocking chair, facing the window, and now the crib, and watched Aimsir make circles around the palace. Aimsir was thrilled by the crib, which had dragons etched all over it.

"Could've been books," the dragon said. "Blech. I was worried when you fell for a scribe, but he's alright."

"Oh, I also got this," Asher said, and he quickly pulled a turned-over crate in from the hallway and started affixing something to the ceiling above the crib. When he stepped down, a mobile swung with brown, green, orange and black dragons chasing each others' tails with the momentum left from Asher's quick carpentry.

"Okay, this might be a bit far for a scribe," Aimsir said, "but I'm not going to complain about being worshiped. But then, why aren't they all brown?"

"It helps babies' eyes to see bright colors or something," Lilith reassured her dragon.

"Stupid human eyes," Aimsir said affectionately.

"There's, there's actually more. But I didn't want to overwhelm you. Guess I failed at that," Asher said, gauging Lilith's reaction.

"Aimsir loves it," she said. And while someone else might have noted the missing "and so do I," Asher knew well enough she didn't need to say it, that if Aimsir was happy, that was over and beyond Lilith's happiness.

Sometimes people asked how he could marry a rider, wouldn't he always be second to the dragon? But he had never seen it that way with Lilith. Aimsir was Lilith and Lilith was Aimsir. While no dragon would like the wording, he felt they were both his to care for and to love and to be lucky enough to be in the presence of at all.

He squeezed her shoulder. "We'll get some more pillows tomorrow and you can set up a chair in the bed. Or I can set up a bed in here." 

When she woke up, she was sore, but at least she'd slept at all. Her own room in Ruel was as uncomfortable as ever, and she was tired of talking to the quartermaster so she refused to get more pillows there. Asher was not. He was as chummy with the palace shopkeep as he was with Winifred or anyone else.

Lilith was always impressed with his breadth of knowledge and his memory, it served him well as a scribe and as a friend. He could find out where a person lived and suddenly be talking about the local birds and food customs.

Few of the palace staff members were actually from Calldyr, most came here as the culmination of their career or at least a very important stop on their journey. It said something about Asher that he was placed here immediately upon graduation. (Lilith's initial placement here was honorable too, but it didn't say much to anyone because it was chalked up to nepotism.)

Every time they met someone new, she thought for sure this would be the hometown he didn't know, the province he hadn't read an encyclopedia of — but every time he was saying "Oh, I bet you miss the Asatova there, even the palace kitchens can't get the berries fresh enough to make it," or "Oh, I've heard about the birds there, pigeons, right? I've never seen one myself but hopefully someday I will," and then the other person was telling him all about their grandmother's recipe or mimicking strange bird calls.

If they ever went rogue, he was the charm and she was, well, the muscle. Or at least that was the plan. When they would go rogue, she told herself.

But not yet. Maybe having a young child would be even better cover. Maybe this would help them. Or they would help the world to help the baby. This was why they were doing anything at all, to make the world better for the future. And this child was their future, the future of Navarre.

And she loved the glass pebble. Fiercely. Decisions about it were pragmatic and logical and duty-bound, but more than any of that, she realized it was love. And she was a little afraid of that too, wasn't she?

It was that day in Calldyr that she first felt the movement, and it was both shocking and so normal it felt like it had always been a part of her. Perhaps it was shocking how normal it felt. Like a flutter, a buzz, a quick reassurance.

"I could've reassured you," Aimsir said. "The kid's doing great."

"Is this why the Rider outposts have such terrible healers for this stuff? The dragons just do all the midwifing?"

"Maybe. But our claws get in the way at the end." Lilith shuddered at the thought. Then reconsidered. "Did you ever raise a hatchling?"

"I did, once. When there weren't any worthy riders for a while. I've laid eggs too, if you're wondering. Since you're wondering. The dragons in the vale raised the ones that have hatched."

"Lucky you that there was a built in break in your career," Lilith muttered.

"Ah, but I'm almost 200. Perhaps if you live that long, you'd find a better time. But would you? If it were wholly up to you, when would the time be right? When you're sneaking across the border? When you're in a foreign land where you barely speak the language, much less the language of birth? When you've returned and you have to act on your newfound knowledge to resist the institution that would provide your care? When you're at risk of prison or worse? Would you take a quick break then to raise children? A few months? A decade?"

Lilith wasn't sure. Aimsir took her and Asher's mission seriously, but this was maybe the most realistically she'd ever heard the dragon talk about it. Like it wasn't just a conspiracy theory, but something that could get them in real trouble. That would get them in real trouble. But before Lilith could ask, Aimsir continued. "This is good. The glass pebble is growing healthfully, you've a safe place to raise him and a wealth to learn in Calldyr."

"Him!?" Lilith said. She knew her dragon was right, and this was far more interesting than playing what if about the timing.

"Him," Aimsir confirmed. "You should tell Asher. Also. Tell him to get another one of those spinny things, but with clouds and lightning bolts and suns and weather-y things. I like the sentiment of dragons, but I don't like sharing with the lesser colors, and I don't want the child to get confused."

Lilith laughed. If this was meant to distract her, she'd take it. The what-ifs would never win over the perfect feeling of the glass pebble kicking and stretching inside of her, growing into the child she'd dreamed of, the sense of purpose it gave her.

She tried not to think about how that was the sense she got when she flew.

WEEK 21

"I grounded myself when my partner found out she was pregnant too! We never expected both to take, but figured at least one of us should stay on the ground."

(REAL Story from a READER RIDER Interview)

• The Only Pregnancy Book You Need FOR RIDERS ONLY! Edition (Updated in 603 for the Modern Rider!)

Aimsir coasted over Ruel one last time. "You won't miss it," Aimsir said about the sprawling village. The dragon didn't need to ask, nor to be answered, though Lilith did anyway.

"No," she said. "I won't."

Her few boxes arrived at Asher's quarters a few days later. She had thought that with her there, they might get a larger apartment. Instead it seemed Navarre thought that since they were lucky enough to be stationed together, they wouldn't mind sparing the expense of upgrading.

Maybe that was the real reason leadership was so encouraging of riders getting married early.

But still, it was bliss.

They could finally be together almost every night, when Lilith wasn't on an overnight patrol. And when she was, instead of returning to her bunk and collapsing in bone deep exhaustion, she returned to a nourishing meal, a listening ear, and maybe even a shower before succumbing to the sleep that she was always behind on.

And they could talk in real time as Asher continued to remember and mark every intake book that was burned, and they kept their careful tally in a hidden compartment Asher added to the bottom of the crib ("Well," he'd said, "I don't have a desk any more. And it seems sort of symbolic, no?")

They tried to connect the dots. They kept records of who sent the books, which ones didn't get shelved, who approved each burning. And they tried to learn more about Poromiel, because it definitely had to do with that, and the difficulty in learning was clearly intentional.

And the baby grew and grew. And eventually Lilith did too. She was stationed under the same officers she had been before, when she was here when she met Asher. Most of them seemed surprised to find out she was married, and so telling them she was pregnant seemed easier, to kill two birds with one stone, to let one surprise ease into the other.

Winifred helped her find a leatherworker who could make adjustable gear. As tired as she was, she hardly interacted with anyone, let alone her superiors. But it made sense that the one day she finally relented and had lunch in the mess hall and one of them found her.

"Sorrengail," Panchek said, sitting down.

"Sir," she nodded. She didn't have to make it easy for him.

"I'm working on the schedule. Do you think you'll be up for flying for the next month?"

"Yes," she said. He nodded, and she stood up, the pretense of eating together over, and both of them were thankful for it. Lilith took her tray all the way across the palace to Asher's quarters, to her quarters now. To home.

And she sat in the rocking chair and watched Aimsir out the window, below the newer, more dragon-approved mobile she and Asher commissioned from a local tailor. Lilith ate and she prepared for the day she would have the answer no one else did.

When could she no longer fly?

WEEK 30

"My dragon was understanding during my first, though she never missed a chance to tell me about how much easier it was to lay eggs than to be a pregnant human. But then when I got pregnant with my second, she was in such disbelief. She didn't understand why I would go through it all again. She grounded me for that one."

(REAL Story from a READER RIDER Interview)

• The Only Pregnancy Book You Need FOR RIDERS ONLY! Edition (Updated in 603 for the Modern Rider!)

Lilith found her hands on her belly more often than not, feeling the baby's kicks both internally and externally these days. When she and Asher would talk in bed, he would just keep his hands on her, to feel the occasional pulse that she felt all day.

The glass pebble, now more like a glass boulder, was her constant companion. Winifred said she didn't like the term kicking, but rather dancing or stretching or running. But Lilith was pretty sure it was mostly kicking.

The nausea returned like clockwork, but now it seemed to make sense, she could keep it at bay and it really only got bad when she was in the air. But it was still never bad enough to keep her away. She would swap shifts and trade duties for those that kept her in the air. She ran patrols, and kept watch, and carried mail, much to Aimsir's embarrassment—anything to fly.

Asher continued on his own path, and when his superior complimented him on "never asking too many questions," they knew they were on to something and they doubled down.

In fact, it seemed he asked just the right amount of questions, because one night at dinner he announced he was being offered a promotion with the Library's Ardent. Lilith congratulated him, but was a bit suspicious. "Won't this tie you to the ardent path?" she asked carefully.

"Well," he said, careful himself, "Kind of. I mean, yes. For now. But I can continue on the path at any outpost with a real library, and I can pause whenever I want if we want to go to a non-Ardent station. They'll be upset, but if all goes to plan, quitting would mean I'd be as far away as humanly possible, so what are they going to do?" Lilith smiled. She could work with this. "Plus," he said, and she recognized him turning on the charm. "If I accept this promotion, the next one comes with a two bedroom apartment allocation."

She laughed. "Well now you're talking," she said, pointedly looking around the singular room that had the kitchen against one wall, a small table, and a sitting area-turned-book storage.

Winifred, and Aimsir, assured them the baby was healthy and as happy as could be. Liltih was always glad for the confirmation, but she also seemed to know this instinctively. She wondered what it was like for people who were pregnant who didn't have dragons, because it felt sort of like her bond to Aimsir. She was the baby's lifeline in the way Aimsir was hers.

The baby was active and especially loved flying, Lilith knew this in her heart the way she knew she wanted children in spite of everything else. Lilith was grateful that Aimsir kept him safe, but she still felt him enough to know he didn't mind the flying himself.

She didn't want to pin any major expectations on him to become a rider, she knew how that went. But then again, her parents had been right. She hadn't rebelled against their wishes for her to become a rider, because she wanted nothing different than they did, she only wanted it for herself. But if the baby wanted to be a rider, well, she thought of all the advice and ideas she would give him.

And to have Asher's brain with her legacy? She was starting to see why leadership wanted riders to encourage their kids to be riders. Yeah, it was gross, but it also meant amazing signets and compounded power.

"What do you mean compounded power?" Aimsir asked suddenly.

"Just like, the power that gets passed down through generations of riders, I don't know, it seems the genetics always make for a more powerful signet," Lilith said, unbothered by Aimsir's listening in on her thoughts.

"Oh, okay. I thought you meant the dragon, like bonding twice," Aimsir said.

"Nah, don't want my kid to lose it, so stay away from him if I die anytime soon," Lilith joked. "And my grandkids."

"Lilith, I'm flattered you think I could make it another round of threshing. But no, I think you're it for me," the dragon said.

"Don't you flatter me," Lilith said, uncomfortably. She'd be lying if she said the thought never crossed her mind, but it was too much to think the dragon had fully tied their lives together.

"It's not too much to think that," Aimsir said, as if Lilith had never had a private thought. And realistically, she hadn't in six years. "And I'm not flattering you. At least not too much. I've had all the experiences a dragon can have. I've fought every kind of creature I can fight. Like I said, I've raised hatchlings. I've seen every nook and cranny of this country. I've bonded eight other times. It's likely if I try to bond again I wouldn't even be able to avoid a family line," she laughed, but then added more solemnly, "I'm not a young dragon, and I'm not kidding myself that I'd make it much longer past you, if I even considered it."

Lilith sensed the importance here, and did not interrupt as Aimsir finished, "And you should know, I picked you knowing all of that."

Lilith was not the type to comfort or to try to cajole, especially a dragon from whom she rarely expected the same. She was not going to say "No, look at those scales, you've got another hundred years to go!" or "But why me?" instead she said simply and purposefully, "Thank you."

The realization dawned quickly that despite the frank bravado, Aimsir was invested in the baby. She had said as much by saying she had never even considered previous riders' children. And yet she spent precious magic literally coddling this one inside of her. The child was not just her and Asher's legacy. He would be Aimsir's too. Even if it meant some time on the ground.

But that would not be today.

WEEK 36

There are no known records of giving birth on dragonback. While it is frequently joked about, it is likely that adrenaline is too high while in the air, or that the dragon simply stops the body from contracting. Though there are few stories about flight field or landing births either. It is this author's hypothesis that the dragon influences the birth in a way that it happens as far away from them as possible.

• The Only Pregnancy Book You Need FOR RIDERS ONLY! Edition (Updated in 603 for the Modern Rider!)

"Any day now?" Lilith asked carefully, trying not to sound disbelieving.

"Well, more likely in four to six weeks. But any time between now and then. You made it this far. Put that on your resume for your next promotion," Winifred said with a laugh. "Are you going to eat that?" she asked. Lilith shook her head and the woman grabbed the untouched sandwich from Lilith's bag.

Lilith had maintained the tradition of bringing the midwife lunch, even when it made her stomach revolt. There weren't many foods that sounded good these days despite her ravenous hunger. It lead Asher on wild goose chases through the town to find something she had not tried yet. He called it "fun" and "exploring," she called most of it "meh."

He'd been working longer hours since the promotion, but that suited her just fine because it meant more sleep.

And when she got home, she curled up in the rocking chair in the nursery and picked up a book, but got distracted by Aimsir, and the mobile, and the intricate carvings and soon she was asleep.

That evening, she watched as Asher built bookshelves into the walls of the now-nursery. She did a routine of stretches and light exercise in the hallway that she'd meant to do that morning but slept through.

The crib had a soft pad in it, they'd bought a dresser from a neighbor who was moving out. Winifred had connected them with other parents in residence at the palace, who were more than willing to pass down their children's treasures and clothes.

Once the shelves were in, and the books were placed, they would be done. The timing was perfectly to plan. If they'd had to scrap their old plan, well, this one was at least on track.

And so, on her next workday, with all the peace of mind, and all the gracefulness, of anyone who's ever been thirty-seven weeks pregnant, Lilith went to her commanding officer.

"Sir," she said after his aide let her in his office. "I'd like to discuss my schedule."

Panchek had been reassigned, this gentleman, Melgren, was new to Calldyr. He was some sort of savant, his classified signet had him rising in rank faster than anyone before him. For a second, Lilith felt like maybe she should've worked harder, been more determined, made his rank by her age. But instead she just awkwardly adjusted her jacket and continued toward his desk.

"Yes? Sorrengail?"

"I will need to be reassigned from flight," she said. "I can get a note from my healer if I need - "

"You don't need," he said, without looking up. Which was a bit better than if he had looked at her stomach as confirmation, but worse than if he could at least pretend to care. So much for leadership being supportive and encouraging of future riders. "When?"

"Desk duty for a month starting on the next schedule," she said, as she'd rehearsed for hours with Asher, even though she wasn't entirely sure what "desk duty" meant. "Then I'll be on leave for a few weeks, or more, depending on the healer's instruction after." She couldn't bring herself to say it, and she wouldn't even say midwife. She did not want to say anything that might make her appear weak.

"You'll be back in the fray soon enough," he said. "I wouldn't worry about it. In fact, I'm not worried about it. Thank you. You're dismissed."

Lilith's first reaction was to mount Aimsir, and as she walked as seriously as she could to the flight field, she had a sudden, horrible realization.

"When was the last time we flew?" she asked her dragon as she walked.

"Three weeks ago, Wednesday. We did a sunset flight after your patrol ended."

"Aimsir. I don't think I can…"

"I know."

"Does everyone already know? Have I not noticed my own schedule?"

"You've been very tired."

"But I could," she said suddenly.

"You could. I could help if you'd like." Lilith thought about it. Did she want to fumble through a last mount? Even with literal magical assistance, that she now realized Aimsir could have been providing at any time without her realizing it. She had maintained her exercise routines with modifications, but frankly, she wasn't sure her lungs would hold out. They were incredibly cramped in there lately. 

"They would," Aimsir said. "I know you want someone else to tell you what to do, to make the decision. And you could say they already have. But have you?"

She was at the flight field now, and frankly making it there was an accomplishment on its own. Aimsir was curled up near the edge, and Lilith sat down in the grass next to her dragon's side, leaning against the warm scales and looking into her huge golden eyes. "I'm not even sure I could stand up on my own right now," Lilith admitted. Aimsir nuzzled her, and effectively pushed her up.

"We can do whatever you want," Aimsir reassured her. "What's to come cannot be planned, as much as you and the scribe wish it could be. But for now, you can."

And Lilith was so tired and so comfortable and so in love with the baby and her husband and her dragon, she could almost say she was done, that she could let go, for now.

But instead, there was screaming. A fucking gryphon had been spotted by the palace. This couldn't be real. But it was and she leapt up, faster than she would've ever believed her joints or weight would have allowed. And then Aimsir's magic did most of the work to get her to mount. And to hold her seat. But fuck if she was going to miss this when she was literally on the flight field.

Everyone who had been there fell into perfect formation in the sky, and then slowly fell back. She was the ranking rider. She gave orders as best as she could, but her breath was shallow and she relied on Aimsir relaying them to the other dragons. She called up some fog and watched it roll in, an attempt to shroud the riot the best she could do. And then there thunder and a swooping figure in front of her and a cackle and hail pinging off of dragon scales — wait, she hadn't called hail, she thought. This was spiraling out of control. Lilith needed more power. She needed to focus.

She knew Aimsir was using most of their power to keep her in place. But she needed it. She closed her eyes for the briefest moment, to ground as best she could for focus, to find Aimsir's power winding through the stacks and pull on it with all her mental magical might.

But it wasn't the stacks in the Riders' library that appeared. It was the nursery in Asher's apartment, it was the rocking chair and the window, and Aimsir's power floating in like moonlight. It was home.

She was in awe, and comfort, for a brief moment, and then she was pulling on that moonlight, trying to make it pour faster.

And when she blinked, all was clear. The evening light filtered pink blue through fluffy clouds. The riot was retreating, but not in defeat. Aimsir touched down, and everyone congratulated her on scaring off the threat.

"Well, that was a ride," Aimsir said.

"What was that?" Lilith asked incredulously. Had Aimsir fully taken over?

"No! It seemed more like recon, and then they disappeared while you were grounding. Someone here to check in, maybe to lure us out purposefully. But they're gone now, so our job is done."

Lilith wanted to think on it more, to ask the other riders what they'd seen. But they all thought it had been her scaring the gryphon rider off. And she wasn't about to tell them she'd been completely caught off guard.

Because her grounding had changed. Because her home had changed. Because she was so scared this baby that she yearned for was going to make her give up the one thing she loved. But she could love so many things, just like she yearned for so many more.

Because her life had never been her own, but it was no longer her parents' or their shadows or her successes' or her failures'. It was hers, but it was also Aimsir's and Asher's and the baby's. And it wasn't a blank slate, but it was a beautiful one.

When she got home, she hugged Asher as tightly as she could, she slept in the bed, pulling him ever closer in spite of the sweat and physical discomfort and her hunger and her thirst and her heartburn and her fear.

The baby was born the next day.

AFTER

Lilith would never stop marveling at the perfect creature she and Asher had created, and Aimsir had guarded. She would never take for granted his chubby toes or perfect baby coos.

She would complain about everything else though.

Winifred came by often, with food and encouragement. Asher was close as often as he was able, and he would give her rest while he read and read and read to the baby.

Aimsir said the baby was fine for a human, but that the dragon preferred him when he he was a glass pebble who couldn't cry.

They all loved him. The love was infinite, for each other, for the baby. From the baby too, Lilith was pretty sure, even when he wouldn't sleep or when he cried the moment she stepped away.

The book said babies needed love like they needed air or food. Lilith had never been great at love (she often wondered what edition of the book her own parents had read, if any) but she knew he calmed down when he heard her heartbeat, when she rocked him in the rocking chair, when she told him stories about Aimsir and he quieted to the sound of her voice.

And when she wasn't in the nursery with the baby, she was thinking of him, of his scent and his cry, and how it was probably all biological reflexes, but they were biological reflexes she hoped would last forever.

And one day, when Asher was working and Winifred was watching the baby, after she finished her exercises and stretches, and she'd slept a whole four hours consecutively the night before, she went to the flight field. She had seen Aimsir already, and taken the baby to meet the dragon on more than one occasion. But now was different. Even as she felt a nudge of magic propelling her up Aimsir's foreleg, the routine and the muscle memory were so comforting.

This was her too, and she took her seat and steadied herself and Aimsir launched and they were in the air, and she called a wind. And she couldn't wait until she could bring Brennan with her.

"I can do that right?" Lilith asked to double check. "While he's small?"

"I suppose. It's not any different than when he was on my back all those other times," Aimsir conceded.

"I mean, it is different, but I'm not going to stop you from —"

"Then don't. Enjoy this moment for what it is. Enjoy that one when it happens. If it happens."

"Right, yeah," Lilith said, too busy marveling at the wind in her hair, the dips and turns of the flight, the connection with her dragon and herself. She had missed it, it was true. But she also loved everything she'd done in the meantime. "Thank you."