Sunday, January 31, 2021

Capital City
Lummatii
Lothian League
Marian Hegemony
The Periphery
19 September, 3150




     "Any day now, our dear Freyja. Everything is looking good." Clarissa Bakker sat at the edge of the hot tub, careful not to get wet as she looked at Freyja. There were plenty of doctors at her beck and call, but Freyja had taken on Clarissa Bakker as a kind of midwife as her pregnancy had progressed. There was something to be said for having a personal friend there as opposed to a cold professional. The Bakkers were one of the few she let into her inner circle as she had navigated the waters of taking up the title of Duchess. There were enemies, and would-be friends, but the Bakkers she knew she could trust as they had cared for her at her lowest point. She would have rewarded them more, but Ned and Clarissa both insisted that they wished to take no advantage of her.

     "You're over the worst of it. Well, I mean, except for the labor part. Well, you know." Count Gunnar Logan was trying to helpful, she knew, but he was covering up his nerves, she could tell. With the delivery date rapidly approaching for her babies, she had agreed to leave her temporary residence in Abercrombie and stay at Count Logan's manor in the capital for the duration.

     Freyja leaned back against the edge of the tub, trying to will away the fatigue. "Gunnar Logan, I'm in quite enough discomfort now, you've no idea. Need I remind you what happened to the other guy who possibly impregnated me?"

     Clarissa looked away, and Gunnar rolled his eyes at the reference to her attacker, the other possible father of her soon be be children. "That's dark humor, even for you, Freyja. You're the strongest woman I know, you'll get through this."

     "I will have you know I take great offense to that, Count Logan. Duchess McCarron, you really must do better keeping your subjects in line." Through the door strode Claire Logan, Grand Mistress of the Lothian League. She practically strutted to the foot of the tub and stood there, radiating power and authority in a flowing deep blue dress and crystal highlighted heels. Gunnar and Clarissa both scrambled to their feet to acknowledge the ruler's presence. Freyja merely sat in the tub.

     "You'll forgive me if I don't rise, Mistress, I'm rather indisposed at the moment." Freyja said with a smile.

     The Grand Mistress returned the smile. "You, my dear, are the one who decided that if you were pregnant, you might as well have twins. But I'll overlook it out of the kindness of my heart."

     "Mistress, I had no notice that you were coming, or I would have set something up," Gunnar said with a bow of his head.

     Claire waived her hand dismissively. "Don't worry, dear boy, it was my idea to make it a surprise visit. I kept everything low key, minimal security, no formal announcement. But I didn't want to miss our girl here giving the planet an heir. Or two, as it would be. I trust you can put me up here for a few days?"

     Gunnar smiled. "Of course, Mistress. You'll have to forgive the spartan accommodations, I'm already putting up one royal."

     She rolled her eyes at him in response. "It will be fine, Gunnar, I'm not that much of a snob, I assure you. I hate to intrude, but would you two mind giving me a few moments alone with our girl, here?" Even as she was speaking, she took off her heels and started to remove her dress, leaving the other two little doubt that her request was not just a request. By the time the two had scurried out the door of the room, her clothes were off and she lowered herself into the hot tub beside Freyja. "It's no substitute for the pool back on Lordinax, but it will do, I suppose."

     Freyja sighed. "Are we going to have all our important discussions naked in a hot tub, Mistress?"

     Claire closed her eyes and let the warm water embrace her for a moment. "There are worse things I can think of, dear." She opened her eyes and looked at Freyja. "How are you holding up, my girl?"

     Freyja ran her fingers through her hair. "Ready for this all to be over. Being inside an overheating BattleMech feels better than this.

     Claire let a smile reach the corners of her mouth. "The real trouble starts once they're born. Have you any idea how complicated your having twins makes this?"

     Freyja shot her a frown. "It's not as though I planned this. But yes, I realize what a mess it is. Gunnar hasn't said anything, but I'm sure he will want DNA testing done."

     Claire shook her head. "You're too smart for that, don't let them anywhere near that. They could both be Gunnars, they could both be from that thrice-damned pirate, or worse, there could be one of each. No matter what happens, you can't know. Once you do, it opens up a million problems."

     "How am I to avoid it? I mean as babies it will be one thing, but as they grow up? One possible father is a classic Rasalhague recruiting poster, and the other one is practically a fucking elemental. I want more than anything for them to both be Gunnars. But what the hell kind of a mother does that make me if one or both of them are not?"

     The older woman ran her hand over Freyja's belly under the water. "I know you have feelings for Gunnar, and there is no one you hate more than the memory of Trogg, but you must remember, no matter if the children are Gunnar's or Trogg's, they are first and always yours above all. You have given them life, and they will be your legacy."

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