Book IV: Avi Dragon

Family Ties

When Esther was gone, he perched on the chair next to the bed, unsure where to look. He knew what it looked like when Angel nursed as a dragon, but he'd never witnessed the miracle while she was human... sort of. She said that Menolly would be weaned soon, and he didn't know if the dragon uterus was inside of her, so these few precious weeks could be his last chance...
   But, being the honorable man that he was, he couldn't ask. This woman knew him, from afar, but she didn't remember that he knew her. If it bothered her to have him fluff her hair, or hold her hand, how could he possibly ask for something so very intimate?
   :You ask, silly bass.:
   His head whipped around. Her eyes were slightly yellow round the edges, but that was the only evidence of her disquiet.
   :It might surprise you to know that I never got to experience the joys of motherhood fully. I suppose that's why they took me... wherever, for dragon crafting. You have a point. This might never happen again.:
   The hand that wasn't cradling their child lifted toward his face, fell to the sheet, along with her gaze. He snatched it up, set it against his skin, and closed his eyes, holding her trembling hand in place. Her thumb stroked tears from his cheek, while they trickled down her own. Had his eyes been open, he'd have seen the faint pink tint to the whites of her eyes.
   She slipped her hand from his and tugged on his beard. :If you're wantin' to see anything, she's almost done, so you might want to open your eyes.:
   By the time they drifted open, she'd dropped the gown around her waist. She couldn't look him in the eye, so she looked at their baby.
   Menolly's hair was the same color her eldest child's was, when he was born. Her son's hair had lightened more than hers had, by now. Her tiny nose was slightly different, but that made sense, given their different fathers. She had his lashes, which was a blessing, and her hairline. Her jawline could have been from either of them.
   That was because Angel had a similar facial structure to her Bonded, thanks to a familial resemblance in their respective mothers. She knew that it was merely due to their Germanic heritage, though it had been startling to discover one day. The only differences in their faces were the nose shapes (but not their length), lashes, and minor differences in hairline, eyes, and lips. There wasn't really any way to know which parent she'd inherited certain traits from, so Angel focused on those little differences.
   While she was examining the baby, he was taking in the miracle of a mother giving her baby sustenance. The tiny lashes against pale lavender cheeks that worked to draw out the milk, the little hand on her mother's breast, the pale bronze head bent over her...
   One lean hand reached toward his daughter's cheek, and stopped. Angel caught the motion, looked up. She shook her head, smiling.
   :Go ahead. I don't bite... unless you ask nicely.: Her lips twisted with amusement, eyes sparkling merrily, before she realized what she said and ducked her head.
   Avi chuckled tightly. He let her off the hook, for the moment. His index finger lightly stroked his daughter's cheek, full of emotions he couldn't begin to label.
   A hazy pink light filtered through the baby's lashes, with a faint violet glow over her face. He Felt the baby's unadulterated joy, but Angel was blocking him; with or without knowing it. If her downcast gaze hadn't given her away, he'd never know what effect seeing his finger so close to her bosom was having on her insides.
   He knew better than to take advantage of her exposed body. On some level, she likely knew that, and trusted him. That made him feel warm inside, that she trusted a man she'd only just met--as far as she knew, anyway.
   With that said, he couldn't resist placing a kiss on his daughter's hair. It was a fleeting thing, nowhere near her mother, but he felt a sharp jab to the loins from her direction.
   "Sorry," he said.
   She slapped his cheek lightly. It wasn't enough for her to feel through the link, but it startled him.
   :Don't mind me, and don't apologize. If you want to show your child affection, I don't care where she is, you go right ahead.:
   A smile spread slowly across his face. There was a hitch in her breathing, but he didn't think to attribute it to something as simple as a smile. It wouldn't occur to someone so humble that a facial expression could make a person's stomach go wobbly.
   He tapped her cheek with his fingers, less of a slap than hers was. "Ours, silly dragon. She's ours, not just mine."
   For some reason, her face went all stark and hollow again, and she looked away.
   His brows curled. "What's wrong?"
   She took her time answering. He let her, because none of her thoughts were coherent enough for a reply.
   :Remember what I said about big emotions, 'kay? It'll... it'll take a while to get used to this.: She looked up when she felt his emotional response. It was... sad? Upset? Offended? She couldn't untangle it. The last thing she wanted was to make him feel... whatever that was.
   :I've said it wrong, haven't I?: Her hand reached toward his face again, stopped, again. He caught it before it could touch the sheet, held it where they both wanted it to be.
   "I don't care where we are, if you want to touch my face, go right ahead," he said with a smile hovering round his moustache. Her lips twisted, but she didn't quite return the smile.
   She suppressed the impish urge to ask if that only applied to his face, because she was a prude... normally.
   "So, what's with the face? Are you sad? Mad? Anxious?" he asked.
   :Sad and anxious, and also happy.: She stared at his chin, unable to meet his gaze point-blank. :So happy it hurts, and I'm scared. This kind of happy never lasts...: Her eyes welled with big, fat tears. If she wasn't on an IV drip, he'd worry that she'd get dehydrated, with all the crying they'd been doing. Her hand slipped down, tangled in the hair over his shoulder.
   Menolly caught wind of her sadness. She started to whimper, curled up in her mother's lap. Angel couldn't bear it any more than he could. She picked up their daughter, put her over her shoulder, and made vague soothing noises as best she could, with her ravaged throat. She patted her small back, in its pink onesie, swaying a little.
   And while she held that tiny life they'd created together, he felt her pain keenly. She couldn't hold it in any more than she could stop her heart from beating. She wanted what was in this room so much that the fear of losing it was ripping her to atoms.
   Avi gathered his girls to his chest and rocked them, part and parcel. He set his mouth on the top of her head and pressed it into the thick, tangled hair, as though imprinting his mark on her. He was crying, she was crying, Menolly was crying. It was a wonder that no one came in to ask what was going on.
   No one asked questions, but that doesn't mean that no one came into the room. A deep voice, choked with emotion, said "Well, I guess I don't have to braid her hair today."