Missing the Present

by Viola Grace

  She sat and looked up at him. “You did your own research.”

  He crouched next to her. “I did. You are not in this alone. Even fey women had difficulty during their pregnancies when they managed to occur. If I can make anything easier on you, I will.”

  She sighed. “Right. You have editing to do. I have research to do. We can meet back here for lunch.”

  He helped her to her feet, pulling her against him. “You are sure you are all right?”

  She smiled. “Will you be wearing earbuds?”

  “I will.”

  “Good. I am going to do some quilting. That always clears my head.”

  “You got it all set up?”

  She nodded. “My priorities are weird. Go. You do you, Snowflake.”

  He kissed her quickly and said, “Don’t call me Snowflake.”

  “I will explain it later, and you won’t mind. Promise.” She winked. She grabbed his shoulders, turned him around, and patted him on the butt. “Go and listen to us have grammatically correct sex.”

  He laughed and headed to his office. “Come get me if you need me.”

  She smiled and grabbed her computer for her research, and she went to her well-lit craft room. She set up a line of quilting, locked one of the small quilt tops into place with the batting, and backing under it. She had paid more for her quilt machine than she had for her car, so it was a relief to set it up, baste, mark the corners on the quilt, and let it put snowflakes across the quilt row.

  She opened her computer while the quilt machine worked and started to research what was involved in a pregnancy. When the machine told her it needed attention, she followed through and set up the next row.

  Elly worked through the first two trimesters and then had to turn her layers to free up more quilt. She exhaled through all of the comparisons of the growing offspring to fruit and finally completed to delivery. She was pretty sure she knew what happened there, but she had some time to work that out.

  Her lifestyle was pretty normal, so she wasn’t worried about where she was starting from. She read up on the best time of day to take the vitamins and went to make herself a cup of coffee. As soon as her fifth row of the quilt was done, she sat and sipped the decaf with a sense of emotional relief.

  Her machine whirred through the stitches, and when the blocks of the quilt were complete, she used the manual mechanism to steer her longarm in twists and turns around the border. She hummed and removed the quilt from the machine, trimmed the overlapping layers off, and sat at her machine to do the binding. When she had the binding on, she took thread, a needle, her pointiest small scissors, and the quilt to have a seat in the living room. She started a fire and sat sewing the border down, finishing the quilt as she blanked her mind and let her consciousness accept that she was pregnant at that very moment. She was a few weeks along, but there was the potential of a person starting off in her.

  She ran out of thread and had to reload her needle. She started again and felt someone watching her. She looked up, and Voronwe was looking at her. She smiled. “Hey, Snowflake.”

  He looked at the expanse of pieced fabric and the flying blizzard pattern. “Did you make that?”

  “I made the top last summer. I do it when I feel the urge. The quilting takes a bit longer and used to take days and days before I got that enormous machine.”

  He chuckled. “What do you do with them?”

  “I give them away—births, birthdays, engagements, sometimes deaths. Every quilt I have ever had has been made with love. Even if I just loved the fabric.” She chuckled.

  “Do you always mark them with snowflakes?”

  She hauled the quilt up and around as she changed the side she was working on. “It is my preferred pattern. I have hundreds to choose from. Why?”

  He smiled. “Nothing. It just seems like fate has had us pegged for each other for a while.”

  “Apparently.”

  “You say that a lot.”

  “Apparently.” She laughed. “Sorry. I learned that word when I was eight, and it seemed like a more fun way to say yes. I will try and curb it.”

  “Don’t do that on my account. I like being able to know it is you in a dark room.”

  She snorted as she continued the stitching. “I think you have other ways to figure that out by now.”

  He sat next to her and ran his hand over the pattern and the pieces. “I can feel you in this. You are bound to it.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “A little bit, but I let them go.”

  He cuddled with her on the couch while she worked, and he watched her fingers move across the fabric. She finally finished the edging and sat back. “Whew. I hate having them nearly finished but unusable.”

  She stretched, and he smiled. “What happens next?”

  “I go over it and snip off all the loose and trailing threads, every piece that is loose has to come off.”

  She kicked her feet and carefully set her pointy implements together on the table behind the couch.

  She leaned against him, covered by the quilt.

  “You seem calmer.” He wrapped his arms around her.

  “I feel calmer. This kid is going to have a princess and the pea complex when it arrives. I think I will be nesting with a vengeance by then.” She relaxed against him.

  “Will you tell those that you work with?”

  “I will. They are going to need to know that they can’t bribe me with coffee anymore.”

  “Ah. Right.” His hands started moving over her torso slowly. “I think I will enjoy the changes as they come. Rubbing your back, your feet...”

  “That isn’t my back or my feet.” One hand was on her breast, and the other was between her thighs, rubbing against the seam of her jeans.

  “Oh, well, I have time to figure it out, I suppose.” He kissed her neck, where the sweatshirt allowed contact.

  She arched and squirmed against him. She felt the pop and zip of her jeans. His long fingers slid against her, and his other hand worked its way under her sweatshirt, coaxing her out of the bra.

  Elly found herself in a whirlwind of the senses, and it felt like her clothing was melting away, and when she glanced down, she found that it was. His mouth on her breast gave her suitable compensation, and his fingers teased and stroked her until she arched and gasped, shivering and then twitching slightly.

  She looked at him with narrowed eyes. “You are getting very good at that.”

  He kissed her slowly, moving his tongue deliberately. When he raised his head, he smiled. “I keep trying to beat my best time.”

  She laughed and looked down. “You can remove your hand now. I think we have gone past lunchtime.”

  He set her on the couch and knelt between her thighs. “Just a moment.”

  He lifted her hips to his mouth, and she got distracted again.

  Half an hour later, he was lying on her and rubbing his cheek against hers.

  She was limp, and her body was humming. “So, if you have sex this much, why aren’t there more fey?”

  He smiled and bit her neck softly. “Ridiculously low sperm count is the guess. I think it is more of a heat response. We only are fertile when we have a partner who is suitable.”

  She swallowed as he brushed his lips against her throat as he slowly sat up. “You guys should have a pamphlet or, at the very least, some kind of warning label.”

  He slowly withdrew, and she sighed softly. “What should it say?”

  She sat up and pushed her legs together with effort. “Danger: Sexy, horny fey. Complications may include frostbite, bedhead, sore hips, dripping thighs, pregnancy, and hickeys in weird places.”

  He grinned. “Fair enough.”

  She looked at her inner thigh. “I don’t even know how you got it into a snowflake pattern.”

  “Now, tell me why you have been calling me Snowflake.”

  “Ah, well, you came to me on a cold wind.”

  He nodde
d.

  “You are cool and hard as crystal.” She stroked her hand down to his cock. “And when you are put in warmth, you leave moisture.”

  He laughed and hugged her. “Fine. It is suitable for me. So, when can we have that snowball fight?”

  “But we... just...” She looked at him helplessly.

  “And?” He raised his brows.

  She muttered. “Going to freeze Puck’s balls to his thighs.”

  “I don’t know if I like this fascination you have for his groin. Should I be jealous?”

  She raised her hand, and frost crept down it, she stroked his face, and he turned his lips to her icy palm.

  “It seems you are welcoming your new situation.”

  Elly shrugged. “Well, Snowflake, it is either adapt or go crazy. You are on lunch duty. I have to go find clothing. Again.”

  He laughed as she walked off to the bedroom, and she just threw on a sundress. There was no point in anything else.

  As she flipped her hair out of the dress, she looked at herself in the mirror. She touched the mirror, and a frosted crown formed on her forehead. Winter Queen. Huh. It hadn’t been on her list of possible careers, but she wasn’t upset by it. She could still work at the publishing house, could still do audiobooks, and now, she was on the path to be a mom. Queen was almost a step down. She was already empress of her own domain, and now, Voronwe was part of it.

  He might have thought she had stumbled into his realm, but she had unknowingly lured him into hers. She didn’t regret a damned thing.

  * * * *

  Nine months and one week later.

  Elly kept the books flowing to the company authors, as well as her husband. The water and back in five minutes signs were carried through in rotation. She got up with a grunt, and Anthony jumped to her side. “Is it time? I can get him.”

  Elly laughed. “No. My centre of balance is three feet behind me or something. I am going for a bit of a walk. Those chairs are bastards.”

  She went for a walk and fought the urge to waddle. The child was head down and ready for action, but she wasn’t going to lose her dignity in front of all the young ladies who were swooning over the new authors that the house had brought to the book fair. There was a long line in front of one of the tables, and she used her pass to get behind the tables. It was very tricky going with her belly protruding and since she was unable to see her feet, but when she got within twenty feet of her husband, he smiled, finished signing the book he was working on, and got to his feet. “Ellora, you should be resting.”

  She laughed and walked up to him. “I just needed a break. It’s okay. Everyone has been great at keeping things moving.”

  She got within grabbing range, and he hugged her. The ladies waiting sighed, and one of the women said, “Preggo, we are waiting here.”

  Elly smiled at them and looked up at him, ignoring them. “I know.”

  He kissed her with a hand woven in her hair, and that seemed to be the point at which they realized that she was more than working for the publisher.

  He cupped her belly with his free hand, and she smiled when he raised his head. “That was nice. Well, back to work.”

  She turned slowly and walked away. He patted her butt, and she snorted, weaving through the boxes and the miniscule path, stopping and talking to a few of the authors as she went. She returned to the staging area and was there for ten minutes when Voronwe was back. “Come on.”

  She blinked innocently. “What?”

  “You have been in labour for a while. We are going.”

  Anthony whitened. “What?”

  Sam snorted. “There isn’t an explosion of water or anything. Just tightening muscle contractions. I was my sister’s birth partner. How far apart are they?”

  Elly looked around at all the work to do. “Fifteen minutes.”

  Everyone rushed into action. Anthony called Dr. Ickhart; Sam called the hospital and made sure that a few fey staff were on duty. Voronwe wrapped an arm around her waist, and they slowly started walking to the parkade.

  “Why didn’t you mention it?” He murmured it to her.

  “I did. When I needed you, I came to you. You showed up just in time.” She laughed. “If my water broke, I would have screamed bloody murder and texted you.”

  He chuckled and got her in the car, buckled her up, and then, he got into the driver’s seat. His driving was good, but she could tell he was rattled.

  “You know, in the old days, I would do this at home and wreck the sheets.” She breathed through the intense squeeze in her abdomen.

  “Yes, but I don’t fancy the idea of Dr. Ickhart as a midwife. He doesn’t have the hips for the skirts.”

  She snickered and exhaled slowly as another surprise squeeze caught her.

  “Faster, huh?”

  “Yeah, it reminds me of the conception.” She grunted and snickered. “Fast, rough, and anticipated and unexpected all at once.”

  He grinned, pulled into the hospital parking lot, got her tucked into a wheelchair at check-in, and then, he went to park.

  He was back with her in five minutes, and the nurses were swooning over him as they checked her in and got her to a private room. She was tucked into a hospital gown for the delivery, but her hospital go-bag was tucked into a corner of her room.

  Dr. Ickhart came in and smiled. “So, the big day is finally here. How are you doing, Ellora?”

  She held up her hand as she breathed through another contraction. “Just great. I didn’t have anything else to do today, so I decided to pass a bowling ball.”

  He gloved up, took a look, and checked her. His eyebrows shot up. “You are cutting it close. Eight centimetres.”

  Elly shrugged as the nurse strapped the baby monitor to her abdomen. “I was busy.”

  Voronwe stood at her side and held her hand once she had all the necessary medical monitoring. “You were stubborn.” He kissed her hand.

  The monitor on her belly showed that the child was fine, strong, and then the sound stopped.

  Elly was the only one in the room who knew what happened.

  “Can someone catch him, please?”

  Voronwe caught on, and he stepped in, flipped up the sheet covering her, and caught his son.

  Ickhart blinked and laughed. “So, I guess I am here for window dressing?”

  She laughed and leaned back against the pillows while her body continued to go through the motions. “You snooze, you lose, doc.”

  Voronwe stared at the baby, and the nurse pulled a tray in. The doctor clamped the umbilical cord, and Voronwe shifted the baby to use freezing to break the connection between Elly and their new son.

  She pawed around and found the controls for the bed, raising her head up so she could see without doing a sit-up. Doc massaged her abdomen, and the placenta was on the way.

  Elly reached out. “Hand him over, Snowflake.”

  Voronwe brought him over and handed him to her. She pulled her smock down and pressed her little white-haired baby to her skin. She looked at the dark blue eyes and knew that they were going to lighten in time.

  Voronwe smiled. “He has your ears.”

  Ickhart cleared his throat. “The ears will change by the second month if they change at all, but even fey babies have round ears at birth.”

  She stroked the little pink cheek and grinned. “Colden Riskin Winter.”

  The doctor’s voice was strangled. “You are naming him Colden Winter?”

  Voronwe and Elly spoke together. “Yes.” She laughed. “We will call him Col for short.”

  When everything was checked out, and things that needed to be stitched were stitched, she lay back and stroked her newly cleaned baby as he ate for the first time.

  She looked at the winter king and smiled. “So, what do you think of the present now?”

  He smiled and touched the tiny hand that gripped his finger. “I am glad that I am not missing it. It has a lot to offer.”
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  She sighed. “The castle had its charms—no cell phones. No internet. No Anthony.”

  She looked over, and the office came in, sneaking past the nursing station. The little one in her arms was subjected to a lot of worship, even when he burped up on Anthony. That faun loved babies.

  Voronwe put his arm around her and whispered, “You did good.”

  She looked at him and smiled. “Well. I did well. Geez, you think you didn’t make your living with grammar and writing.”

  He kissed her. “Be quiet and enjoy the moment.”

  She got her baby back, Voronwe promised to have a welcome home party for everyone when the baby was ensconced at home in his tower of quilts, and they were finally left alone. The king and queen of winter greeted their little prince as the first snow of the year began to fall.

  The snowfall meant the beginning of winter, and the gingerbread house would come out again. This time, she would have Voronwe handle it. She didn’t need any other fey.

  Author’s Note

  So, I saw a woman wrapped in ribbons on DAZ 3D, and from that one image, this book happened. My cover artist found the gingerbread house, and it helped me bring to life an idea for women Falling Underhill to meet bored and lonely fey. This is the first of six planned out so far.

  This was also a strange little holiday-not holiday book, so it was fun in this very weird year.

  Thanks for reading,

  Viola Grace

  About the Author

  Viola Grace (aka Zenina Masters) is a Canadian sci-fi/paranormal romance writer with ambitions to keep writing for the rest of her life. She specializes in short stories because the thrill of discovery, of all those firsts, is what keeps her writing.

  An artist who enjoys a story that catches you up, whirls you around, and sets you down with a smile on your face is all she endeavours to be. She prefers to leave the drama to those who are better suited to it, she always goes for the cheap laugh.

  In real life, she is now engaged in beekeeping, and her adventures can be found on the YouTube channel, Mystery Bees Apiary. Just look for the cartoon kittens.