by Renard, Loki
“Stop!” She grasps me by the back of the neck. “You are being foolish! You will send yourself into labor, and then where will you be?”
“With Skoll.”
“You are to be a mother. You must stop this and come and hide.”
“I don’t want to be a mother if he won’t be a father,” I snap back. I have never dared defy Shanti before. I don’t think anybody has ever defied Shanti before. That’s probably why she doesn’t expect me to run again. But I do. I run faster and farther than I ever thought possible. She catches me once or twice, but every time I break away again and keep going, following the tracks of the warriors until I find the place they departed for.
They are trying to break the walking wall which shines bizarrely in the wild. I used to be impressed by those things. This one looks ominous and dangerous. And it seems to be resisting their efforts.
“Come home!” Shanti has caught up with me again, and this time her fingers close roughly about my ear and my arm. She is angry with me, which I would usually find intensely shameful, but today there are bigger things to worry about.
Even from this distance, I can see the wall the wild ones are trying to break. It is standing up against a rock face, looking as weird and unnatural as it is possible for anything to look. And it is rippling. I know what that means. Something is going to come through it. I am still too far away to even be heard, but that doesn’t stop me from screaming a warning.
“NO! GET BACK!” I call out to the grimalkin working on it as it practically explodes in a torrent of city soldiers, all heavily armored and even more heavily armed.
They descend upon our place of innocence with jets of fire and booming explosives. The soldiers are coming through the walking wall heavily armed and firing without seeming to aim. They haven’t come here just to capture us. They’ve come here to obliterate everything that matters. The wild grimalkin scatter before their weapons, fleeing into the forest, and I have the horrible, sick feeling that everything must be lost.
As the violence hits a crescendo, I find myself suddenly struck with the most dramatic of natural urges. The cramps which had been flashing across my back and belly suddenly make their presence powerfully known. I begin to push without wanting or trying to.
“Oh no. Oh fuck.”
Suddenly, all those tv shows where the mother has to be told to push seem absolutely fucking stupid, because when it comes time to push, there is no force on this planet or any other that can stop the powerful contractions. My body is pushing for me. I can get fucked for all it cares. Not literally, but, well, you know.
“Come. You must come!” Shanti is still by my side. I can’t believe she hasn’t just run away and left me here. It’s what I deserve.
“I can’t,” I cry, falling to my knees. “I c..arrghhh!”
Christ, this hurts. There is no escaping this, and because there is no escaping this, there is no escaping the battle either. The wild grimalkin are starting to make attacks, and the city cats are firing at everything that moves as well as half the things that don’t.
Shanti grabs me under the arms and drags me as far away as she can, a distance of several hundred feet, before pressing me up against a log which is sheltered from the worst of the battle.
But we are not alone.
A soldier has seen us. He is coming toward us, weapon held high, finger prepared to unload death upon us. Shanti moves to stand in front of me, and I know I am going to watch her fucking die.
“NOO!” I scream again, my contribution to this situation now limited to useless screeches.
“UGH!” the soldier grunts as his neck is snapped from behind by two massive paws. I know those paws.
“SKOLL!” I cry out his name as he comes rushing toward us. He must have seen me running in the distance, or heard me shout the warning, because there is no way he would hear me now. The city's attack on the wild is loud and very disproportionate. The wild grimalkin do not have weapons or armor, and are at a massive disadvantage. The smell of death taints the air almost instantly, drawn into my mouth though panicked breaths, blood and mud a disgusting combination.
“What is happening!? Why is she here!” Skoll crouches next to me. He is furious, his fangs extended in a war growl, his fur slashed here and there with blood which I do not think is his.
“She doesn’t listen,” Shanti says by way of answering. “And now she is having your baby.”
“Why didn’t you stay back, Kitty?”
“Because they were going to kill you.”
“They were going to try that anyway. Now they might kill all of us. You, the baby, and the matriarch. You have put us all in danger and why, because you still cannot behave? Because you must always make your human decisions to run toward danger?”
He’s yelling at me furiously. This is not the birth story I want. And his anger does not stop the fact that the contractions are still coming in powerful waves, making it difficult to reply until they subside, and even then only giving me a small window in which to draw easy breath.
“I don’t want to live without you! I don’t want you dying somewhere away from me, being torn apart by the city because you saved me!” I scream through the pain.
“Enough arguing,” Shanti declares. “The baby is coming. Skoll, guard your family.”
“This feels like fucking death,” I grunt as he turns around to watch for any who might be stupid enough to come for me again. The scene is chaotic. There are wild grimalkin tumbling from trees, leaping over rocks, tearing through armor, and soldiers waving and firing their weapons like it is the fourth of July.
“It basically is death, a little death, except you survive,” Shanti says. “Get comfortable. Your infant is about to arrive.”
Get comfortable? That’s literally not possible.
The pressure is unbearable. This infant is arriving right in the midst of battle. I can feel the intense stretching between my legs, the breaking and shifting and tearing of flesh which must give way to this new life.
Two battles are taking place here today, and I am helpless in both of them. All I can do is surrender to the natural process and hope that I am not taken away with it.
I can see the other battle unfolding, the wild grimalkin making surprising headway. They do not fight like those with weapons, but that does not mean they are not dangerous. They use the terrain to their advantage, slipping out of sight behind trees and dodging through bushes to come down upon those wielding weapons of war.
Falkri and Fenrir have taken weapons from fallen city grimalkin and are using them to surprisingly effective effect. They train them upon the walking wall, and it collapses in on itself in a void, taking out several troops who were standing near it, looking to retreat. The explosion is spectacular even at a distance, sending soldiers flying and the world itself spinning in a dramatic vortex. I do not have time to stare at that. I have bigger problems, like a head emerging from between my thighs.
“ARRRGGHHHH!” I scream at the top of my lungs as I feel another life emerging from me.
“Arrrgghhh!” A thin, no less furious cry returns.
It is the cry of our baby. Our love made into new flesh, right in the middle of the most vicious explosion of violence I have ever borne witness to. There are those dying, and there is one being born, sliding into Shanti’s hands which are cupped between my thighs, ready to catch the innocent who is emerging into utter chaos.
Shanti carefully pulls my baby from my body and lays him on my belly. “It’s a male,” she says. “A boy.”
I can’t stop staring. Boy. Girl. It doesn't matter. I can’t see anything besides his wide blue eyes and his adorable little nose which is flattened and broad just like his father’s. He is covered in a pelt of pale fur, and he has a tail. A perfect, curling, beautiful tail which swishes back and forth of its own accord.
“Oh oww… shit…” His fingers have the tiniest, most adorable, fucking razor sharp claws on them too.
“You get used to that,” Shanti say
s with a wry smile.
He’s perfect. He’s the most perfect little thing in all creation. He’s my son, and I will protect him with everything I am.
Skoll is also staring. Just staring, his blue eyes wide with some mixture of emotions I can’t quite read. It’s hard, because the battle is still raging, and the danger is far from past.
“ARRGGHH!” A city soldier is hurled across the clearing behind him. The battle is background noise, just chaos and carnage, and I don’t care about any of it, because I don’t have to care. The wild cats are taking care of the city cats so throughly and completely I can sit here safely with my newborn and just wait for them to be done.
If we were on our own, we would have been captured by the city cats. There is no doubt of that. Skoll, our son, and I would have all become captives of their system. We owe our survival to the wild ones, to the new family who adopted us in our hour of need and who are protecting us as if we were their very own.
I cradle my baby to my chest as they absolutely destroy the soldiers, smashing the remnants of the walking wall and destroying the city’s path to the wild. I would like to say once and for all, but I know that in the real world, forces of destruction are never triumphed over forever. They must be fought again, and again. But the warriors of the wild have struck them a harsh blow, and they will have to lick their wounds before they make another attempt on our lives.
When the danger is past and the dead are being counted, Skoll is by my side, embracing me and our son.
“He’s beautiful,” Skoll purrs. “He’s perfect.”
I have to agree.
Our son looks almost entirely grimalkin. There is very little human in him at all. I do not mind. It is tradition, I believe, for babies to look like their fathers, and this one is the spitting image of his father. Skoll is right. He’s perfect.
17 Happily Ever After
A few days later…
Kitty
“Are you still mad at me?”
“No.” Shanti says. “Just disappointed.”
“Oh, that’s worse! You know that’s worse!”
I am in her private chambers which are at the very rear of the great round house at the very center of the village. I probably shouldn’t be here. I should be back in my hovel with my mate and my baby, but I have amends to make to her even if she doesn’t want them.
I cannot describe the amount of guilt I feel over how I gave birth, and what I put her through. She could easily have been killed trying to look after me, and that is not right. I don’t deserve that kind of loyalty from this woman.
Skoll’s not mad at me. He hasn’t been mad at me since I gave birth to our son. Shanti is harder to make things up to, though. I know I’ve lost her trust and I know I probably won’t ever get it back and that feels like absolute shit because she is at the center of everything here. She’s become as important to me as, well, I guess, family.
She looks over at me, her golden eyes so wise and so calm. “You should get some sleep,” she says. “It is best to sleep when baby does.”
“Shanti…” I give her my saddest doe-eyed look. She snorts and pushes me gently. “Go and sleep, disobedient human mama.”
“I can make this up to you,” I tell her.
“You can start by going and sleeping before your infant wakes.”
I sigh deeply and do as I am told. I can feel her eyes following me as I leave her presence, but she does not say another word.
“What are you looking so miserable about?” Skoll asks when I return to our cozy little hovel. Our baby is still asleep in his arms, and next to the pair of them, Mr Tiddles is curled up, as happy as he has ever been.
“Shanti hates me.”
“She does not hate you. She knows you’re trouble,” he says, wrapping me in his arms. “And you know that you are trouble too.”
“It would be easier if she just did what you do when you're mad, just punished me and then got over it.”
“That would be a little too merciful,” he chuckles. “It’s good to feel guilty at having defied the matriarch. She will forgive you in time. And you have much bigger things to worry about. Like our son. He still needs a name.”
“You’re right,” I say, pointing at him, my mouth falling open as an idea strikes me. “He does. Wait there.”
“Not going anywhere,” Skoll replies lazily, as I go rushing out of our hovel and back to Shanti’s court.
I don’t just feel guilty about Shanti. I feel guilty about the entire tribe. This all happened because I didn’t listen to Skoll all those months ago. I have introduced chaos into this world which is affecting all the grimalkin. Even my son. He was born into war because of me. I wish I knew how to make better decisions, but blind obedience has never suited me.
“Shanti?”
“Yes?” She doesn’t look up from her cooking pot. She is alone. The other females are out gathering for the evening meal. I would be with them, but Shanti has forbidden me from leaving the village for some reason.
“Skoll and I… well, mostly I. We would be honored if you named our son. You risked your life to deliver him. It would be right and fitting that you name him.”
She gives me a long look and then lets out a sigh. “Human, you are relentless,” she says.
“I mean it. I don’t have anything to give you,” I say. “I have no possessions. I have no honor, I have no obedience. I am just a messy, chaotic human who doesn’t belong here…”
“Stop,” she says. “That is enough.”
“Please, Shanti?”
She gives me a very long look. “Answer me a question first.”
“Okay. Anything.”
“You have never mentioned any desire to return to your home planet and show your baby to your family. Why is that?”
“Oh, that’s easy. I don’t have one. I grew up in foster care.”
“Foster care?”
“Yeah. My parents didn’t want me, so I was sort of shared around until I was old enough to look after myself. It was fine. No big deal.”
“So, you have never had a mother,” she says. “That sounds like a big thing to me.”
“Technically, I must have? I don’t remember her.” I squirm, not wanting to recount this part of my tale. I never talk about it. I haven’t even told Skoll. We haven’t talked about our origins at all, but he was living alone on the side of a mountain, so it’s like we were both completely alone in our respective worlds until we found each other.
“I see,” Shanti says. “This is why you are so much trouble. This is why you cannot obey me and yet feel terribly guilty for having disobeyed me. You are my daughter, Kitty. As much as any of the others are. You are of this tribe, as is Skoll, as is your son.”
“So, you will name him? And forgive me?”
"You are already forgiven. And yes, I will name him.”
“Thank you!” I wrap my arms around her and feel her embrace me in turn. She is warm and she is loving, and I know I will need her as our family grows. I used to think I could live my life alone, that I needed no help, no friends, and certainly no family. But it turns out I needed them all.
Epilogue
Skoll
Son of my blood. Son of my mate. The baby I hold in my arms, the boy whose eyes I smile into, he is the family I have always wanted but never known I needed. When I first met Kitty, I was hunting a fugitive. When I flooded Kitty with my seed, I wanted to control her. At almost every step of the way, I have been selfish. If it were not for her almost dying, I might never have been transformed into what I am now, a loving father and mate. I owe a lot to this innocent infant who lies in my arms, playing happily with his tail.
“Ready?” Shanti smiles the question.
“Ready,” I say, surrendering him to her arms. Soon he will have a name, and we will be forever part of this tribe.
Kitty presses close to me for comfort. She is happy and she is nervous. This is our baby’s official presentation to the tribe. I don’t think either one of us ever expe
cted to belong this way, to share our blood and bodies with the world this way.
I nuzzle her neck and graze my fangs across her tender skin. “I love you,” I murmur.
“I love you too,” she says, her eyes shining with tears. “And I love our baby. I can’t wait to find out what his name is.”
Kitty
Our baby is almost a month old, and more perfect than ever. It has been four weeks since the green of the forests was turned red with the blood of city soldiers. Three weeks since I made the transition to motherhood. It has not been easy. A grimalkin baby is much more precocious than a human one would be. He is already learning to crawl, and I do not think walking is very far away either.
I am rarely in trouble anymore. There is not time for it in between tending to the baby’s many needs. I am his breakfast buffet, his lunch menu, and his dinner restaurant. I am his favorite entity, besides Skoll. I am needed in a way I have never been needed before. It is relentless and rewarding all at the same time, and I am not alone in it.
I have Skoll by my side, the grimalkin who believed in my beauty and fell in love with my human spirit, and I have Shanti, the matriarch of the wild, who guides me even in my rebellions without ever becoming cruel.
She is holding our baby now, before the assembled tribe. We are all standing at the peak of the hill which overlooks the village, her big, clawed hands being ever so careful with our precious cub. We are all gathered to witness his name, dozens of grimalkin all as invested as I am.
“Born to war,” she intones. “Bathe in blood, oh babe of two worlds. Your destiny is great. I shall bestow your name, for though your mother bore you, and she alone knew you while you were being knitted together in the womb, she knows too that you belong to us all.”
Shanti raises him high as she anoints him with the stored blood of a fallen enemy. This is a barbaric ritual, but I accept it. I actually take some pleasure in it. That stripe of red across my baby’s head represents those who tried to destroy us. They failed and he lives. Their loss is his very existence.