FION'S DAUGHTER

by Brenna Lyons

  Ro nodded in understanding. “I am blood of your blood and heart of your heart. We are one. I will be only for you in this life and the next. I will never allow you to come to harm.”

  She removed her hand slowly and placed the abinatine carefully at the foot of the bed. Deliya picked up the flask and uncorked it, pouring a bit of the oil into her hand. Ro tensed as Deliya slipped her hand down his length from the head to base. She cupped his sac, oiling all of him. Deliya stroked him over and over.

  He grasped her shoulders, his knees shaking. “Deliya, I cannot,” he gasped. If he didn’t make it inside her soon, he’d disgrace himself.

  “You will feel it soon,” she promised.

  “Feel—” He roared out his release as the heat and throbbing hit him full force. The sensation was vaguely familiar, and he realized that whatever Deliya gave him to fire his lust the night she wanted to conceive had been administered again in a much stronger dose.

  Deliya eased him to the bed, smiling as he groaned. “It is a common response,” she soothed him.

  Ro ground his teeth as the throbbing intensified again. His erection lessened but did not completely subside. He pulled Deliya over him, desperate to bury himself in her. She mounted him smoothly, easing the madness and intensifying the throbbing simultaneously. Her eyes closed as she took him fully and stilled.

  “No,” Ro demanded.

  He wrapped his hands around her hips, lifting her and pulling her tight to him again. Deliya took up the pace he set: fevered, rough, a possession and nothing less, but who possessed whom remained to be seen. Ro gave himself over fully to the concept that Deliya would own him, body and soul.

  Her body pulsed around his, and Ro thrust deep, filling her with his seed and locking himself in her depths, the throbbing sated. Deliya lay over him, panting in the aftermath of their passion.

  Ro laid kisses over her forehead, his rational mind protesting only then that Deliya carried his child. “Have I hurt you?” he asked, his heart pounding in terror.

  Deliya chuckled against his chest, and the feeling of it radiating over his length made him ache for her again.

  “No,” she assured him. “You would never hurt me.”

  He gasped as the throbbing became more insistent. “Gods, but I might before this is through. How long does this last?”

  She shrugged. “It varies. A few hours, at least.”

  He groaned as his control started to slip again. “If you tire, you must promise to tie me down. When I— I cannot promise my self-control in these circumstances.”

  Deliya laughed heartily at his concern. “I have my schen to sate,” she reminded him.

  Ro nuzzled her lips. “How do women who are not pregnant handle this?” He started stroking inside her, unable to be still when he needed to feed the fire for her again.

  “Mmm.” She smiled. “Typically, the male applies the Dolgen oil to the female, as well. I understand it is an experience not to be missed.”

  “Understand?” he breathed, nipping at her nipple lightly and taking the peak in his mouth.

  Deliya’s skin heated again. “Many couples conceive the night of their promise.”

  “You have never experienced it?” Ro moved to the other nipple, licking it slowly before he captured it in the heat of his mouth.

  She shook her head. “When would I?”

  “Loric— I am sorry. You said he wanted to perform this ceremony.” Ro shook his head, frustrated by his lack of understanding.

  “He could not use the Dolgen oil on me until I had met Fion’s challenge. Loric was mad and desperate, but he did not dare risk causing me to cry out during the challenge. He planned to anoint me once I had— But, that is not important.”

  “Let me anoint you.”

  “It is not necessary. I have my schen,” she reminded him patiently.

  “Will it harm you or our child?”

  “No. Dolgen is perfectly safe.”

  Ro smiled and turned her beneath him, snatching the flask of oil and sliding free of her body. The need to be in her again was immediate and humbling. He ground his teeth in restraint.

  Deliya shook her head. “It is a waste of the oil, Ro. There is no force more powerful than a love schen.”

  “Has your training taught you that? Have you been instructed that the oil will have no effect while you carry?”

  “No,” she admitted. “I doubt anyone has ever tried it.”

  Ro uncorked the flask. “I think it is time that someone did.” He coated his fingers in the oil and stroked her hood slowly, playing his fingers ever lower. “Inside?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she pleaded.

  He watched her face intently as he painted the oil over her. Deliya trembled, her eyes dilating. She bowed up to his fingers, a strangled cry escaping her lips.

  “It does work,” he breathed. “Tell me what you want.” Ro had to take her soon. The throbbing was stealing his sanity.

  “Take me as you did in the stable,” she pleaded.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Veril 23rd, Ti 10-459

  Deliya smiled at Ro from the stairs. He waved her down, obviously excited to introduce her to whatever guests he’d sent Novin to summon her to meet. Ro turned back to the small lounge off the foyer, laughing at something one of the guests said.

  She went to him, taking Ro’s hand as she faced the group in the room. Deliya’s smile disappeared as all conversation stopped. The woman and two men stared at her in open-mouthed shock.

  Ro wrapped an arm around Deliya’s waist, ignoring their reactions. “This is my bride,” he announced happily, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing her tenderly. “May I introduce Mother Deliya, daughter of the former Mother Leiana of Fion’s Children.”

  The woman stood abruptly. The man beside her steadied her, as the mound of her child nearly sent her toppling forward. She was a tiny woman, only reaching Deliya’s chest in height. Her striking shade of red hair marked her as a relative of Ro’s. The men, like most Magden and Lengar, were dark-haired.

  For a moment, no one moved.

  “Welcome,” Deliya said quietly.

  As if her voice spurred them into action, everyone spoke at once.

  “When you said you had a surprise, Ro,” the woman gasped.

  “How in the world,” the man beside her exploded.

  “I thought—” The last man faltered, his cheeks darkening.

  Ro laughed heartily. “Deliya, this is my younger sister Juria, her husband Benel, and my cousin, Novin’s father Andrel.”

  She bowed her head to each of them in turn, smiling at Andrel. “Novin is a fine man,” she complimented him. “He is a worthy heir.”

  Ro smiled indulgently. “It is a high honor for one of Fion’s priestesses to declare a male child as a worthy heir,” he noted.

  Deliya felt her face go crimson. “I meant no disrespect,” she apologized.

  Andrel shook his head. “I am honored that you think Novin praiseworthy, Priestess.”

  “I do,” she assured him. “Why, the jag—” She looked at Ro in surprise, as he shook his head in warning. Apparently, there were many topics that would make the Magden nervous.

  There was an uncomfortable moment of silence. Deliya looked to Ro uncertainly.

  Juria moved forward awkwardly, offering her hand. “You are most welcome, Priestess.”

  Deliya nodded, looking at the mound of Juria’s pregnancy closer. “You are very far,” she noted. “Your woman healer approved your travel from Caran?”

  Juria turned a shade of crimson that rivaled her hair.

  Benel howled in laughter. “Of course not. The woman healer is livid with her, but try convincing a woman to mind when she learns her brother has finally taken a bride.”

  Deliya raised an eyebrow. “Not that I disagree with Juria’s woman healer, but why should Juria mind you?” she challenged.

  Benel’s smile disappeared.

  “She is a grown woman who knows her mind. All Magden women wou
ld do better to do likewise.”

  He blanched. “I meant no offense, Priestess— Majesty—” He looked to Ro uncertainly.

  Ro offered no comment, knowing that Deliya would make her own reply.

  Deliya nodded curtly. “Priestess or Mother Deliya would suit me best, Benel.”

  He bowed his head. “Mother Deliya.”

  Deliya wound her arm through Juria’s and turned her toward the corridor. “Ro has a lovely churning bath, Juria. Would you care to join me in a warm soak and lover’s repast to hold us until evening meal?”

  Juria laughed heartily. “I would like nothing better.”

  *

  Ro bit back a blast of laughter, as his bride and sister made their way up the stairs. Benel and Andrel stared after them, frozen in something between stunned dismay and shock.

  “Not exactly a biddable female,” Andrel noted carefully.

  Ro did laugh at that. “If she were, I doubt I would have noticed her.”

  “Can she be trusted?” he asked even more cautiously. “After we failed her people—”

  Ro sobered. “With my life. And with your son’s. She saved Novin’s life within moments of meeting him.”

  “Why did no one tell me this?” Andrel demanded, red-faced.

  “Because Novin was unlikely to admit that he’d ingested poison berries to you.”

  “Poison?” Andrel shook his head and heaved a sigh. “She saved my son?”

  Ro nodded. “While she still believed us her enemies, she worked through most of a night without rest or food to undo the damage. Novin was near death for days after. Deliya saw to his care personally and tirelessly.”

  His cousin sat on the chair he’d vacated, dropping into it heavily and rubbing a hand over his face. “Then I am in her debt.”

  A niggling thought ate at Ro. “As am I, and I’ve not managed to fulfill what she asked of me yet.”

  Benel looked away from the stairs in surprise. “You cannot fulfill what she asked?”

  Ro shook his head miserably.

  “What did she ask of you?”

  “To return her to her people — to the life that she lost,” he admitted.

  “What will you do?”

  “The only thing I can. I will allow her to retain her culture and return her people’s lands as our seat of power. That is the best I can do for her.”

  *

  “How did you meet Ro?” Juria asked, lowering herself into the warm tub with a sigh of relief.

  Deliya felt her cheeks heat. “I met him in battle. In any case, I felt it was battle.”

  She waited nervously, sure that Juria would protest that fact. For a long moment, the smaller woman stared at her, shocked to silence.

  Juria started laughing, great whooping laughs, tears gathering in her dark eyes. “Tell me you bested him,” she requested.

  “Sometimes. At others, Ro was the victor. I tricked him more than once.”

  “Good. No wonder he loves you.”

  Deliya smiled.

  “I imagine you had no wealth of love for the Magden,” she noted sadly.

  Deliya sobered. She sank deeper into the churning water as she considered that. “The Magden are not what I was taught, but I know that my mother had a great respect for your father. She told me once that you should judge a man by his actions. She asserted that even a Lengar king could be a good man in the right circumstances.”

  Juria scowled. “I will believe that when I see it.”

  Deliya chuckled. “I told her the same thing — much more respectfully, of course.”

  She nodded, playing her hand in the water and staring at it rather than meeting Deliya’s eyes. “It must be very difficult, losing everyone you cared for.”

  “It was, but the Mother provides. When I learned I had lost all, She sent me Ro and gave me his love.”

  Deliya cast her eyes over the swell of Juria’s babe. “Your babe will be very large. Has your woman healer discussed the birth with you?”

  Juria cast her an apprehensive look. “Discussed? What is there to discuss?”

  “You are — tiny. Too large a babe poses a danger to you both.”

  She nodded. “Yes. The healer said the same.”

  “Then why has she done nothing to prevent it?” Deliya asked curiously.

  “What do you mean?”

  “There are herbs that will prepare your body for birth and others that will entice the babe to deliver before it is too large for safety.”

  “It must me dangerous to the child,” she decided.

  “Not if it is handled well. A time can be chosen that s best for mother and child.”

  Juria nodded thoughtfully. “It seems you have knowledge and training that our woman healers do not. Have you considered training them?”

  Deliya gasped at the thought. “Yes. I could do that.”

  “They would not be your people but—”

  “Oh, but they would,” Deliya decided excitedly. “The Mother always provides. Perhaps this is the future for Fion’s priestesses that She envisioned all along, the knowledge and duty passed mother to daughter as it always has been.” She smiled, plans taking shape in her mind.

  *

  Ro folded Deliya into his arms as she and Juria came to the table. Deliya practically glowed in happiness.

  “What is it?” he asked, hoping that this meant Deliya had found a sister of the heart in Juria.

  “Juria has given me the most wondrous idea,” she told him breathlessly.

  He grimaced. “My sister’s ideas have caused many grief,” he warned.

  Juria shot him a dirty look, daring Ro to tell his bride the many bad ideas she had had and he had followed when they were young and impulsive.

  “This one is inspired, Mother led,” Deliya assured him.

  Ro nodded, as servants began to lay out the food. “Sit down and tell us about it.” Hopefully, it is a better idea than the one about chasing geela away from the young kittle, he prayed silently.

  Deliya kissed his cheek and took her place, picking a lizor berry off her plate and eating a bite with a look of rapture. “Your woman healers have the beginnings of what I would teach a young priestess. Why not complete their training? Oh, Ro. Do you see it? The woman healers can train each other, pass the knowledge mother to daughter as Fion’s priestesses always have.” Her eyes glittered in excitement.

  Ro smiled indulgently. “My sister has outdone herself.”

  “Your sister is not eight years of age any longer,” Juria snapped irritably, “and no one forced you to help me.”

  “Very true,” he conceded. “Well, this makes my surprise all the more appropriate.”

  “Surprise?” Juria squealed, suddenly playing the part of the eight-year-old girl she denied being. “I love surprises. Tell us.”

  Ro waved a servant over with the box that held the larger of his gifts. He presented it to Deliya.

  Her eyes widened. “It has been many years since someone has given me a gift,” she whispered.

  “Open it,” Juria urged her.

  Deliya gasped as she uncovered the box. She touched the silin inside with shaking fingers.

  Ro nodded. “I saw your mother’s robes and overmantle when she received my father. If anything is amiss, the clothier will make it right. She will make you as many as you wish — one for every day of the week if you would be most comfortable in them or you wish them to teach your priestesses in. You have only to ask.”

  A single tear spilled down her cheek. “Thank you, Ro. It is beautiful.”

  He pulled the hair clips from his jacket pocket, showing them to Deliya then placing them in her hair. “I took the liberty of having a jeweler recreate your seal on the hair clips.”

  She nodded, winding her hands around his neck and into the fall of his unbound hair, seeking his mouth passionately. “Shall I wear your gown later in thanks?” she offered quietly.

  Ro groaned as his cock responded fiercely. “Only if you wish to learn what a Magden bride
can expect from her husband.”

  “I think I would enjoy that,” she teased, massaging the bundle of nerves under his hair and sending heat curling through his body.

  “I trust you would.”

  Benel laughed heartily. “I believe Ro’s next announcement will be that he has produced an heir,” he prophesized. “Would anyone care to lay odds on how long that will be?”

  “Two weeks,” Juria decided, chewing a slice of cheese.

  Ro smiled, running his hand over Deliya’s womb. “My wager would be that I announce it tonight.”

  Deliya blushed, casting a sidelong glance at Juria and nodding her affirmation.

  Juria clapped her hands in glee. “Wonderful,” she cheered. “Our children will be like brothers.”

  “Or sisters,” Deliya reminded her.

  Benel furrowed his brow. “You do not hope to give Ro an heir?” he asked in confusion.

  Ro shot him a hard look. “Ro hopes for a beautiful daughter. Perhaps my bride will grant me a son one day, but my daughter will be born for better things.”

  Deliya turned his face back to hers. “You will have as many sons as Fion grants us,” she promised.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Veril 24th, Ti 10-459

  Deliya looked up sharply at the pounding on the door, meeting Ro’s eyes fearfully. No one dared disturb them this way. It could only be an emergency.

  Ro stormed to the door, yanking it open and practically catching Benel as he half-launched, half-fell into the room. “What is it?” Ro asked.

  Benel looked to Deliya, his expression frantic. “Mother Deliya, we need you,” he begged.

  Deliya nodded and ran for her packs, pulling down her robes. It was likely that she would need them. “The babe?” she asked brusquely, knowing it was. She had watched Juria’s wan expression in apprehension all day, worried at her insistence on travel the next morning. It was better that the babe came tonight rather than on the road to Caran.

  Ro took the packs from her shoulders, motioning her toward the door.

  “Yes,” Benel replied wearily. “The woman healer says we must choose between the babe and Juria.” Benel faltered, as Deliya turned to him in dismay. “Juria says you can help. She begs for you. Can you—”