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Since Tossing is indeed tradition, the tribe will band together to prepare meals for the expectant couple so they have even less to worry about.
Which is great because even as heavily pregnant as she is, Aria still finds it hard to keep herself away from the kitchen. I have had to make sure she is always too worn out to want to do it. Because even with the prepared meals, she still likes when I eat her food.
And as much as I prefer her food, I welcome the rest for her. I want to make sure she is as comfortable as she can before the babies come. And although I know that is going to be its own journey with sleepless nights, I am ready. I have been ready for a long time.
“I think I may have finally found a tradition of yours that I like.” Her head lifts to look at me with a saucy grin. “Are there any more like it?”
I balk a laugh. “Dove, have a sense of self preservation.”
She hits my chest but laughs too.
“Don’t act like I’m the one who’s insatiable. You like it too.”
“That I do.”
She starts sliding down from me and I help her down before she rushes to the bathroom. My gaze follows her, taking her in.
Mine.
I sit up.
“I still think Vlad is a great name.” I say to her.
“It is, but I would like for our children to have their own names. Having someone else’s name just comes with expectations and…” She comes out from the bathroom, now wrapped in a towel. “I don’t want our children to be held back or have a ceiling, you know?”
She was making a strong point and one I can't deny.
“So does that mean we are removing Tatyana too then?”
“But it’s a great name, Igor.” She pouts.
“It still was supposed to be your name so it may just as well be your ceiling,” I reason.
“Fine, but—”
Someone knocking disturbs us. We both look at each other. We weren’t supposed to be getting any more guests. It is afternoon and we received all the meals for the rest of the day together with the snacks.
But I slide out of bed and put my pants and shirt on. I find a concerned-faced Owa at the door.
“Old orc.” I say in surprise.
“I know it isn’t a good time…. But we have something to finalise with both of you,” she says.
After letting her in, I get Aria. When we are seated, I make them both tea in the kitchen and Owa’s eyes dart between the both of us.
“What is this about, old orc?” I ask when I am finally settled.
She clears her throat first. “Me and the Queen were in talks in your absence. As you know the birth of the little orclings is significant for many reasons. The Ceremony of Shaba must be performed. I explained to her that I am not worthy of such a feat…” Owa’s eyes land lastly on Aria.
Aria seems to nods slightly, understanding what she means.
“If not you, then who?” I ask.
“Margaret. Her mother,” she says.
Something passes between Aria and Owa, but when I open my mouth to ask, Aria speaks first.
“My mother isn’t exactly an orc nor is she carrying an orc, Owa. How will she cross?”
