Page 39 of Orri

We both break into easy laughter, and I rush back into the kitchen to fix her a plate for breakfast. I hope this is the start of many happy mornings to come.

EPILOGUE I: BIRTH

ORRI

My heavily pregnant wife is in the infirmary, ready to give birth to our hybrid children. The future of our family is at the delicate point between being held safely in her womb and entering the hard world of Aesirheim. I clench my fists, uncomfortable with a challenge I cannot face with strength or power. As the father of our twins, I can only wait uselessly while my heart-mate gives birth.

I pace outside of the room that they won’t let me in, saying that birth is a time for women to surround her. Lara, Iris, and Janie already came by to give Isabella gifts for the twins. Those gifts are sitting on a table in the room. I can see what is happening through the glass windows, but I am extremely restless. Isabella told me that on Earth, fathers tend to be in the room when mothers give birth. Here on Aesirheim, the healers have decided to keep me out of the room. They think that I’m too impulsive.

I have to distract myself. Isabella told me that on Earth, there’s a tradition of asking men to boil water. We don’t have traditions like that on Aesirheim.

When we started losing the babies inside of our own females, birth became a sacred ritual. The healers carefully oversee every bit of development of the fetuses inside of our females’ wombs. Isabella has rolled her eyes about how many check-ups she has had to have over the course of pregnancy, but she signed the contract to bear my child. It turned out that she’s going to bear my children.

“Hey,” Soren says, coming in and hitting me on the shoulder. “How do you feel?”

“There’s nothing for me to fight.” There is a fear inside of me, which has lived there for the entirety of Isabella’s pregnancy, that she’d lose our twins, just as many female Aesir who were not omegas had lost their children.

“I know what it’s like. My own wife said that I should distract you.” Soren grins.

“How?” I am ready to be distracted.

“Let’s go train. Your comm will bring you here when she has gone through the last stage of human labor.”

I looked through the window at my wife. There are warring emotions inside of me. On one hand, I want my wife to know that I’m here. However, she’s in so much pain that I don’t think she’ll notice if I slip out. They haven’t let me go in and hold her hand.

I go outside with Soren to the nearest training ground. He tosses me one of the blunted weapons we use for practice. I look at the dull edge, meant for the greenest of warriors. Without warning me at all, he attacks.

Finally, my mind is able to stop worrying about my pregnant wife. As I attack and counter-attack, Soren’s face contorts. He gives a battle cry and picks up the pace.

I guess that his wife thought he needed the exercise before she sent him over. From the way we’re both breathing hard, it seems like his decision to use practice weapons was a good one. When he uses a heavy overhand strike, I lift my weapon to block him over my head. At that moment, my comm lights up.

“Please come to the infirmary,” a cool robotic voice says.

I step back and bow to Soren, ending our practice bout. I throw the practice weapon at him, knowing that he’ll take care of it. Warriors always take care of their weapons.

And fathers always take care of their children on Aesirheim. I run back to the infirmary, breathless when I arrive. “How is she?” I ask the nearest healer, who is finally letting me into her room.

“She’s just fine. We’re weighing your children right now.”

I rush towards the bed, where she has raised her arms. She’s sweaty and exhausted, but there’s a lot of satisfaction in her dark eyes.

“My heart-mate,” I tell her, “how do you feel?”

“Tired. Happy.” She puckers up, so I kiss her mouth, measuring her emotional state. She’s really happy and joyous right now.

“Orri? We’ve cleaned up your twins. Do you want to hold them?”

I spin on my heel, looking at the babies swaddled in blankets.

“Go sit on the chair in the corner, Father,” one of the healers says, laughing. “We’ll put one in each arm.”

I follow her order and sit on a chair in the corner. The healers bring my newborn children right to me. Both of them have their eyes closed. One yawns, and the other one is clearly asleep.

The first time I touch them and look into their faces, warmth spills in my chest. I don’t know if I have ever felt anything as profound as holding my children. As an alpha, I thought that I might never have a child. Plenty of us don’t.

“You are a miracle,” I tell my family, looking at how happy Isabella is right now; she is turned towards us but still on the bed. “All of you.”

The healers steal my progeny away and put them in clear cribs so that we can still see them. I get to my feet and surge towards my wife, kissing her again. “Sleep now, my love.”

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