Spirit Animal Ficlets

Dead Dove Do Not Eat

Disclaimer:

None of this is to be taken as sexual. It's purely fluff. Also they're early to mid twenties. Also also, male pregnancy, Don't Like, Don't Read.

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Four Fallen. Four Months.

Four Fallen. Four Months.

Four Fallen. Four Months.

Tasha had said he'd drive himself insane if he kept repeating that. Shane couldn't help it. His mind had been a mess since becoming the King of Steriol. Five years of being king, five very stressful years. And now those years accumulate to four months of stress inside him.

Four Fallen. Four Months.

He hadn't seen the four heroes of Erdas in four months. The Christmas party at Greenhaven was fun and lively and everything a greencloak party was. He had fun, drinking and hanging out with familiar faces he had rarely seen since becoming a king. He was stupid and drunk and flirty. Those feelings mixed with pressure from the Council had been putting on him about children and heirs and lineage.

Shane got stupid drunk and found an equally stupid drunk greencloak to kiss and love.

Four Fallen. Four Months.

He was sick on and off. It all accumulated at a meeting of world leaders when his breakfast became a new decoration on the map. Shane had been embarrassed. He had thrown up on the map of Erdas (newly revised with Steriol's land and Sadre's entrances) after the Niloan head chieftain gave him an exceptionally rough pat on the back. The meeting was ended after the leaders voted Shane go see a physician. There he got the worst news of his life. 3rd worst news actually. 1st his family death, 2nd after his own near death.

Four Fallen. Four Months.

A month ago the physician had told him 'good' news. The throne would have an heir. Shane wasn't able to process the very notion of having a child and instead threw up, which was morning sickness. 3 months pregnant. 3 months of a tiny life in him. 3 months of a bean for an heir.

Shane grew self conscious about it. Often looking at himself in the mirror, trying to find hints of the thing inside him. It's not obvious but at some angles, there's traces of a bump. It's barely there, barely obvious. That makes his anxiety worse. It means something is there, something is growing and he's going to deal with it. Because drunk Shane couldn't keep his hands to himself.

Four Fallen. Four months.

Here he was in the present, laying in bed, staring at his ceiling, completely exhausted. He had fallen asleep the night before and had a rather nasty nightmare.

About having the heir present to the public. Of course everybody just had to see the new born Prince as soon as possible. The chair was made of iron, rusted and old. A chair that all new heirs were born on. He had hated the nightmare the most at the end. He couldn't move, couldn't protest as a giant black and gold snake tightened its body around him and in Gerathon hissed "All hail the new Prince." Shane didn't sleep for the rest of the night.

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Tasha entered the room. Her assumption was usually correct. Shane would be dressed in his royal attire, ready to deal with the tasks of the day and a few scoldings about the heir and he should have put kingly duties on hold.