Ice Ice Babies (2 page)

He nods slowly and glances over at the main fire, where a few people sit and chat. “It is good. There will be many mouths to feed this brutal season.”

I know it. I know it all too well. The thought echoes in my mind with every footstep and images of empty caches appear when I close my eyes at night. I think of my No-rah and Ah-nah and Ehl-sah. I must keep them safe and fed. This world is harsh and they are so very fragile. My belly cramps with worry and I grip my spear tight. “I will go out again early in the morning. The trails are good in my area and there is much to be done.”

Bek nods, as if I have made a wise decision. “Then I will leave you to your rest.”

I feel a surge of irritation and though I know it is not Bek’s fault, I spin on my foot and turn away, tail lashing with anger. He does not understand. He thinks I am making a choice to go out and hunt all day, to push myself to exhaustion. To spend all my waking hours looking for hopper trails or dvisti tracks in the hopes of finding a kill, any kill.

Bek has no mate. He has not held the tiny hand of a daughter freshly-born and so vulnerable. He does not grasp that I do not do this for pleasure. He thinks I have a choice. There is no choice. It must be done. My family must be fed and kept safe. They
must
. I think of my lovely, soft No-rah. I think of her face pinched and hungry, her teats flat and unable to feed our kits. I think of their unhappy faces as they wait for me to return home to feed them.

I must feed them.

I…should go back out. The worry gnaws at me. There is game that creeps the snow at night. Snowcats hunt by moonlight, and scythe-beaks range all hours of the day. I could set more traps, dig a new cache. I could check the more distant trails…

A jaw-cracking yawn staggers me as I head toward my cave.

Or I can sleep.

I hate that I must choose sleep. If I could avoid rest and manage to keep my family fed? I would do so. My brain is foggy with exhaustion, though. I must rest, if only for a few hours.

The privacy screen is up when I head home, and the fire banked. It is stuffy and over-warm in the cave, like No-rah likes it. I do not mind, ignoring the sweaty discomfort of it. My own needs do not matter, not right now.

I check the fire and shove a dried dung-chip into the coals to keep it burning low. There is soup in a cooking pouch, still warm and left for me by my thoughtful mate. I wash my hands and face in the meltwater No-rah keeps in a bowl in the corner, but I avoid the food. Let her eat it in the morning. I prefer that she is fed rather than me.

My sweet mate’s form is a soft bump in the furs; she is asleep. I move to the baskets that my kits sleep in and kneel beside them. Ah-nah has kicked her furs off as she always does, and I tuck them around her tiny body with the utmost care. I touch her sweet, fat little cheek with my finger and she turns toward me, her mouth working in her sleep. Pure joy surges through me, mixed with the ferocious need to protect my family. I look over at Ehl-sah and she is awake in her basket, her tiny blue eyes glowing in the dark as she gazes up at me. She waves a fist in my direction and I flick my tail toward her. I remember I loved to hold my father’s tail and follow him when I was young. She grasps it and gurgles, her feet and hands waving in the air.

I pick her up, wincing when she yanks hard on my tail. She has a fierce grip, this little one. I hold her close, burying my face against her small, warm body. Her scent is one of the things I love best about being a father - the sweet scent of a kit’s skin. Today, though, she smells a bit like milk and…a dirty loincloth. I set her down and change her quietly, even as she yanks on my tail and burbles happily.

When her cloth is changed, her eyes drift shut slowly once more, and I pry my tail back out of her small hands. I cover her up and gaze down at my kits with longing. They get bigger every time I see them. I feel as if I am missing all of their moments — but then I think of their faces pinched and hungry in the brutal season, and I am resolved once more.

Another jaw-cracking yawn erupts from my chest and I pull my leathers off, staggering to the bedside. My No-rah’s back is to me, the pale, gentle slope of her shoulder begging to be touched. My cock stirs despite my exhaustion, but I ignore it. No-rah so rarely gets to sleep without interruption - one kit always seems to be awake - and I do not want to wake her simply to sate my needs. They can wait.

I cannot resist touching her, though. I trace a finger lightly over the pale flesh of one smooth arm, and when she shivers, I pull away reluctantly. My hand goes to her tangled hair and I touch it, stroking it absently as I watch her sleep.

She was mine the first time I saw her. I think of that day so many moons ago, when the humans were pulled from their strange cave and a frightened No-rah looked at me with defiant, terrified eyes. My chest immediately resonated for her, but I kept it a secret. She was afraid, and I did not want her to fear me. I did not keep it secret for long - the moment she had her khui, she resonated to me.

We had mated furtively under the furs a short distance from the fire, too desperate for each other to care about privacy. I close my eyes, thinking of the little gasp she had made when I filled her with my cock. I lost my heart then.

It feels as if I lose it anew every time she smiles at me.

Now it has been almost two turns of the seasons, and her pale yellow hair has grown darker at the top, and long. Her face is not as full as it was, and she looks at me with sleepy, affectionate smiles instead of defiant fear. Every day, my need for her grows. There is nothing for me without No-rah. Nothing at all.

And I will do everything I can to keep her safe and fed.

I slide under the furs and press a kiss to her shoulder, hugging her against me. She murmurs something and then snuggles back against me, her skin cool against my own. The humans are fragile and cannot keep their heat, and it reminds me that I must work that much harder to protect my No-rah. I pull the blankets tight around our bodies, ignoring the fact that it is warm enough to be uncomfortable.

Only No-rah and the kits matter.

I wake in the morning to quiet. The babies are still asleep. Thank God. Dagesh is slumbering next to me, his hair still in braids from yesterday. He normally undoes them when we sleep because he knows I like his hair, but he must have been too tired last night.

Maybe we can squeeze in a little cuddling before he’s off for the day.

I get up and check on the babies, take care of my bladder in the bone chamberpot kept for occasions like this, and then wash my hands and rinse my mouth out before crawling back into bed. I snuggle against Dagesh’s chest, sliding my hands over his stomach as he tugs me close, eyes still closed.

“Your hands are like ice,” he murmurs in my ear. His mouth presses against my forehead in a sleepy kiss.

“Are they?” I guess I won’t put them on his dick until they warm up. I stroke my hands over his fuzzy body, gliding over the ridges on his chest. “The babies are still asleep,” I whisper, leaning in to lick at his shoulder. “We might have a few minutes for—“

Anna coughs awake, then wails angrily.

Damn it. I press my forehead to his chest in frustration. I don’t even get five minutes, do I? Not with two babies and no Not-Hoth formula in sight. I’m the one-stop shop.

Dagesh groans low. He pats my back. “You sleep. I will get her.”

“It’s okay,” I say, sitting up. “That’s her hungry cry.” My breasts are leaking in response to her wailing, so I might as well get up. “You sleep,” I tell him, crawling to my feet. “I’ll take care of Anna. Hopefully I can get her fed before Elsa wakes up.” If so, maybe we’ll have time for a bit of nookie after all—

But Dagesh gets to his feet and rubs his eyes with one hand. “I should be off to hunt anyhow.”

I pick up my angry baby - poor Anna is always the fussy one - and tuck her against my breast, wrapping a fur around us for warmth. I sit on my favorite stool and frown as Dagesh picks up his scattered leathers and begins to put them on again. “You got home so late last night. Now you’re going back out?”

He nods, strapping on his belt. He won’t look at me. “Bek says the hunting is bad for the others. Taushen came back empty-handed yesterday. Ereven, too. I have been fortunate, so I must go out and continue to hunt. We must have food for the brutal season.”

It hardly seems fair. We don’t even get five minutes together lately. “So send them to go hunt on your trails and you take a day off, Dagesh.”

Elsa whimpers and before I can pick her up, Dagesh is there. He cuddles her close, pressing a kiss to her tiny face before tucking her against my free arm so both twins can nurse. “I wish I could,” he says, gazing down at us with an intensely thoughtful look. “But I must feed my family and my tribe. I will be home in time for dinner.” He grabs his spear, leans down to press a kiss to my head, and then is out the cave again.

I sigh. Another day on the ice planet apart, it seems. I stare at the open doorway to my cave, because Dagesh forgot the privacy screen, and I think. Was he out the door the moment he was up before the babies got here? I don’t think he was. Has…something changed between us? That can’t be it, though. We’re resonance mates. That’s a forever sort of thing.

So what is it, then?

* * *

I
don’t allow
myself to mope long. Dagesh is busy, but I know he loves me and adores the babies. Whatever’s going on, we’ll work it out. Maybe not today, since he’s hunting, but soon.

In the meantime, I can choose to be lonely and sad in my cave all day, or I can hunt Asha down and befriend her.

Of course, getting around with twins in hand can be tricky. It takes me several minutes to adjust the twin carrier sling that Megan macraméd for me, and by the time I get one settled, the other starts to fuss. Or poop. By the time I get out of the cave to head to the main fire, I’ve already been cried at and peed on. But eventually I make it out to the main fire and arrive just as Stacy’s making breakfast cakes out of root and some dried meat. It’s not exactly McDonalds but it’s filling. She hands me one and I eat it standing up, since the babies are being quiet. Georgie, Claire, Ariana, and Marlene are sitting around the fire today. All of them have their babies with them except Claire, who’s only got a modest bump in her belly.

I take breakfast from Stacy and eat it standing up. The others are chatting quietly, Ariana anxiously patting the back of little Analay, who holds the record for being the fussiest baby in the entire cave. I tell myself it’s revenge for how high maintenance his mama is, but I feel bad for Ariana. She’s always exhausted trying to look after the constantly-crying Analay, and I know how that feels. My Anna’s a fussbucket, but Analay is something else.

Of course, Ariana and Analay’s presence means that I won’t have to make a lot of excuses about why I’m not going to hang out by the fire this morning. One fussy baby means the others start in, and even Georgie’s usually-happy Talie looks confused. She shoves a fist in her mouth and sucks on it, as if she’s trying to decide if she’s going to cry or not.

“I can’t stay,” I tell the others. “Got a lot of house-cleaning to do. Has anyone seen Asha?”

Marlene gives me an incredulous look. She snorts. “Why? Did she say something to you?”

This just confirms my feeling that we need to include her. The tribe is small and we all have to stick together. Poor Asha. “No,” I say cheerily. “I’m going to do some…um, tea sorting, and I heard she was good with flavors.” And I totally just made that shit up off the top of my head, but it sounds legit, even to me.

“Tea…sorting?” Georgie asks, pulling a tuft of fur out of Talie’s hand before she can shove it into her mouth.

“Yes, tea sorting.” I’m sticking with it. “I’m tired of the same flavors and I thought maybe she could help me put together some new ones. I have a ton of dried leaves I picked from just before the twins were born but they all look the same to me.”

“She might still be in her cave,” Ariana says. “Their cave is right next to mine and Zolaya’s. I saw Hemalo in there earlier and I don’t think they’re early risers.” Analay hiccups and then begins to wail, and Ariana’s face falls. “Oh no. It’s okay, little buddy! Come on.” She gets to her feet, bouncing the baby, and wanders away trying to soothe him.

Talie’s little face scrunches up and she lets out an unhappy bleat. A moment later, the bundle peacefully sleeping against Marlene’s breast wakes up. Pacy is papoosed on Stacy’s back, and he gives an unhappy gurgle too.

I am so out of here before the twins pick it up. “Gotta jet,” I tell them. “Thanks for the heads up. And for breakfast!” And I waddle out of there as fast as I can with two babies strapped to my front.

The cave network that makes up the tribal home is spacious and sprawling, and I take my time, wandering down a rocky hallway to lull my twins back to sleep. I pass by Harlow’s cave and stop to say hi, since her privacy screen isn’t up. Rukh is showing his son Rukhar a carved block made of bone, and Harlow’s got a piece of equipment in her lap, a make-shift pair of magnifying lenses over her eyes. She blinks at me then goes back to work. “Hey, Nora. What’s up?”