Chapter Text
At Gwennit's scream, Theotar looked up from his cup of picnic tea. Next to him, Renathal shot to his feet just in time for Gwennit to tear across the bog, a nosegay of wildflowers flying from her hand. Behind her, approximately sixteen geese honked their outrage. A word from Theotar, and Vrednic and Blisterback raced after the feathered monstrosities, borfing and barooing and making as much noise as the evil birds, if such a thing was possible.
Gwennit hid behind Renathal, trembling, her muddy feet on their blanket. "I thought you said they wouldn't bother me!"
"Dowsabel, I said they would not bother you if you kept your distance. Clearly, you did not." Theotar sipped his tea. "Come, let me kiss your brui--Renathal? Are you well?"
Renathal stared at Gwennit, mouth open and his eyes shining. He crushed her in a hug and spun her so her remaining slipper flew into the bog. "My love! My Gwennit! I've dreamed of this moment!" He kissed her until she began pounding his arm. "Are you not happy, my lady?"
"I just got attacked by a horde of geese! Those things don't redeem!"
"But my love. What of the child?"
Gwennit lifted her eyebrows until her eyes bugged. "Theotar, what's in that tea?"
Theotar peered into his cup. "I do not know any more." He took a sip. "But it is still hot!"
Gwennit squirmed from Renathal's grip and landed on the blanket next to Theotar. She rubbed her backside, and stuffed a grape, fresh from the experimental Verdant Ward vines, into her mouth. A moment later, she chewed it onto the grass. "I think this batch is even worse than the last one."
"Eat more!" Renathal crouched and stuffed some in her mouth. He gripped her head and jaw to make them move up and down. "The child needs more than simple anima!"
"What are you talking about?" Bits of grape slid down Gwennit's chin, along with a good deal of saliva.
"The geese, of course!"
Theotar and Gwennit exchanged a look. Gwennit dumped the teapot on the grass.
"Ah, well, wine is better for a gravid lady." Renathal opened a bottle and pushed it to her mouth.
Gwennit snatched it from his hand. She took a long drink--a quite impressive drink, really--and handed Theotar the dregs. "Renathal, my prince, my love. Stop for five fucking seconds. Pretend I'm Gubbins. Then explain."
"You and Gubbins are both very cute," Theotar said over his empty teacup. Gwennit looked at him, and back to Renathal, who sat on the muddy blanket, his head cocked like Vrednic's when someone did not, in fact, throw the ball.
"But the geese. Did no-one ever tell you about the bats and the wasps? The--the geese, they chase you, and they lay the child's egg in your belly during pursuit. Denathrius told me all about it." He gasped and took Gwennit's shoulders. "There were so many geese! You will be enormous, my love!"
Gwennit stared at her middle, mouth drawn in horror. Theotar sighed. "My prince, did you perhaps consider the Sire may have lied to you?"
"I've had children," Gwennit said. "I may not remember them, or when they got put in me, but there were absolutely no geese involved."
Renathal shook his head. "No. No, it must work differently on Azeroth. The geese. They chased you. They must have--a child--children---"
Gwennit sighed and kissed him. "Renathal, if I were going to have a child, it would be in me by now. In fact, we'd probably have two or three."
"Yes, you understand! Oh!" Renathal hugged her once again. "I'm going to be a father!"
"My dear." Theotar took his hand. "First, let me remind you that I love you, and you are quite clever most of the time. But listen to me: babies have nothing to do with geese."
"Unless they're goslings."
"Yes, thank you, dowsabel. Unless they are goslings."
Renathal looked between them as though they had shot Vrednic into the Maw. "But. The geese."
"Renathal," and Gwennit kissed his hand. "When two or more people love each other very, very much, or they exchange money for services, or they get bored enough, they go to bed. Sometimes...."
Renathal stared as Gwennit explained the finer details of childbearing. "That's impossible," he said. "We're venthyr, not bats. And look, Theotar's not with child! I fucked him just last night, while you were sleeping!"
Gwennit stroked his cheek. "I wasn't sleeping, and believe me, I tried. And I'm not with child, either. No venthyr has ever given birth. Remember?"
"But they know better than get near the geese. And you're different. That means it's possible, right? I mean, we both fucked you this morning."
"I really don't think so. Besides, it takes a while to show. Just like with bats. Though, erm, given the level of activity in our bedroom---"
"And the bath," Theotar said.
"Yes, and the bath---"
"And the kitchens."
"And the kitchens. Even though Stefan nearly committed regicide last time---"
"And Renathal's desk, though it is very hard on the knees."
"We get the point, Theotar. If any of us could have children, it probably would have happened by now."
"Never mind Mona, or Mihaela, or Fane, or especially Kassir. Oh, the tales he has told me!" Theotar grinned. "Tea gets very spicy with Kassir."
"Why don't I ever get to go to those teas?" Renathal said.
"Oh, and Draven, if those rumours are true!"
Gwennit snapped her attention to Theotar. "What?"
"It was a long time ago." Renathal rubbed the back of his neck. "It only happened a dozen times or so."
"You fucked Draven."
Renathal shrugged. "A fellow has needs."
"Apparently. Erm. Was he---"
"Outstanding. Unfortunately, the chafing caught up."
Gwennit's eye twitched. "Is that why you were always so worried about hurting me?"
"Oh, goodness, no. You're tiny!"
"As you are compared to Draven, my prince." Theotar poured wine into his teacup. A poor substitute, but it would do. He looked up at two gargons yelping in the distance, and the bloodthirsty honks of scores of geese. "Perhaps we ought to cut the picnic short."
"My mood's ruined, anyway." Renathal sighed and called Blisterback and Vrednic to heel. They bolted to him and whined, stubby tails as far between their legs as they could go. "Back to the castle, I suppose. Shame about the child."
"We can always practise making some." Gwennit stood, the empty teapot in her hand. "You know. Just in case."
"That sounds like a capital idea--oh, dear. Forget the basket. Time to run!"
Theotar sat long enough to drink his wine, which left him running, screaming, and much closer to Renathal's concept of pregnancy than he really had in mind.