Rebirth of the Nephilim

“What is this called again?”

“Gougère,” Thea replied with a small smile.

“They’re lovely,” Vera smiled broadly at her daughter. “Absolutely lovely. I wonder if I can ask for the recipe.”

“I’ll ask for you,” Thea nodded, then took a bite out of her own savory pastry.

The restaurant that their little gathering of mothers and daughters was the sort of place that a common villager like her would never have thought to visit. Vera didn’t know how much any of the plates of tasty foods that had been put on the table to keep them sated while the main course was being prepared cost; no prices had been discussed, but she had the feeling that if she did know, she would be upset that so much was being spent on her. The chairs were so soft, the furnishings so rich… Vera was certain that the embroidered tablecloth that covered the table in their private room cost more than the dress she was wearing. She should have been awestruck by their surroundings, enchanted by the murals on the walls and the glittering silver and gold of the embellishments. But all of that was a backdrop, unimportant to her only focus, because Vera could not take her eyes off of her daughter.

Thea had changed so much, and it was so wonderful to see.

Yes, she was still shy. Quiet. Reserved. She got those traits from her, Vera was sure. Thea’s father had never been a talkative man either, but Travers had always been strong and confident in a way that Vera had never been. Goodness, she had been such a mouse before Travers had courted her, but the love of a wonderful, supportive man had helped her grow out of her shell. He had given her some of his confidence, a gift that she held onto with all of her strength. She had always tried to share some of that strength with Thea, just the same as Travers had when he was still alive. But Thea had remained a mouse, and her stutter had not gone away. Not with all of their encouragement. Not even when she had gone to military training and become a soldier. Not for years and years and years.

But Thea had not stuttered at all that evening. Not once. And Vera knew that she had Jadis to thank for that miracle. The confidence that she had given Thea was without a doubt a product of their love, and for that, Vera would forever be thankful.

She had to admit that she didn’t fully understand the relationship her daughter had with Jadis and the other women of her harem. Harem. Such a strange word. A foreign word. A word she only ever thought to use in context of therions, and even then, only because she had heard stories from the merchants who sometimes passed through Cold Brook on their yearly routes. No therion she had ever met had been a part of a harem. Not before Thea had brought her Jadis and all of her lovers to their little village.

So many lovers. The number had grown since she had first been introduced to the devastatingly beautiful giant. From a physical standpoint, she could easily understand, even if Vera had no interest in her own sex in that way. Jadis did not look as she had always imagined Lyssandria to be, but at the same time, Vera had no trouble at all understanding why the pale woman was the Goddess of Beauty’s avatar. She was so terribly perfect, without blemish, wrinkle, or even one hair in the wrong place that there were times Vera thought that she was the creation of some master sculptor come to life. For anyone who found her beauty to be arousing, and there had to be many, Vera could not blame them for accepting any offer that Jadis might extend, even if it meant sharing her bed with others.

But to love more than one? To truly love a person, with all one’s heart, and then feel the same way about another person at the same time? Was that possible? Was that possible for a group of three, much less thirteen?

Vera didn’t know. She did not think she could feel that way about so many. Sometimes she still struggled with the loss of one love, and how she felt about the new love who had come into her life. But she wasn’t Jadis. Nor was she her daughter, and Thea wasn’t her. They each had to make their own choices, as best they could for their own sakes. And from everything that she had seen of Jadis and the way that she treated all of her lovers, she could not imagine a more loving, caring, and kind person to be with her sweet little Thea. What right did she have to harbor any doubts when Thea so clearly held none?

The truth was, Vera could not think of one thing Jadis could do differently to show just how much she loved Thea.

“So? When will you have the wedding?”

Well. Perhaps one thing.

“Mother,” Aila blushed in that expressive way that her cool demeanor failed to hide. “Please, we’ve been over this.”

“Yes, we have,” Senta didn’t frown at her daughter, not exactly. But she kept her stern gaze on Aila, not breaking eye contact. “I am simply not satisfied with the answer. When the war is over isn’t good enough.”

“Good enough? I don’t see what you even mean by that,” Aila shook her head. “We don’t want to spend our time and energy on a ceremony when we have so many other things to do. Once the demonic invasion is over, there will be much more time, and we’ll have our proper ceremony then.”

“You have the time to get pregnant,” Tyree said from the other side of the table, causing poor little Sorcha to wince. “Seems to me you have more than enough time to have a simple ceremony.”

“Mom—”

“When I married your father, we went to the temple and had the priest bless our union,” the older goblin woman continued without letting her daughter speak. “My parents were there and his parents were there and that was all that was needed. The ceremony took all of fifteen minutes and then we were out of the temple in time for me to make dinner.”

“It’s not that—”

“Now, I put no blame on you for letting a child grow inside you before you are properly married. I was pregnant with your brother before I married your father and no harm came of it because your father did what was right and asked for my hand the moment he found out. But as good a woman as this giant is, she’s wrong for not marrying you straight away. It’s time you put your foot down and dragged her to the temple.”

“…you were already pregnant?”

Vera tried her very hardest not to let her laughter slip free from her lips at the way Sorcha was looking at her mother. How was it that children always seemed to forget that their parents had once been young, too? Then again, with how prim Tyree tended to be, Vera could understand why Sorcha would be taken off guard by the revelation that her mother had once been reckless.

“Yes, I was,” Tyree confirmed, her green cheeks turning a darker color as she blushed at the admission. “But that’s not the point! I dragged Sorley to the temple right away and got married and that’s exactly what you need to do as well!”

“Wait, did you drag him off, or did he ask for your hand?” Gerta spoke up as she leaned forward with keen interest. “Because those are two very different circumstances, Ty.”

“He asked for my hand and then I took him to the temple right away,” Tyree clarified hotly. “It was a collaborative effort!”

As Gerta nodded in understanding, she put a hand on Bridget’s shoulder, pulling her embarrassed daughter a little closer to her side.

“See, I didn’t have Addy until I’d been married to Walton for two years, and then Bridget came two years after that. Not that we weren’t putting in our best efforts when we were young, even before we were married.”

Vera’s heart went out to the young orc as she looked like she was about to melt through her seat.

“Anyway, I was still the one who had to drag my old lump of honey to the temple when the time came,” Gerta continued cheerily with her story. “Sometimes you have to take charge of these things when you’re a woman or they don’t get done. Men are lazy about these things sometimes. Give ‘em a push. Or a pull. Or a kick in the rear, if that’s what it takes. Anyway, you get it done, and you’ll be happier for it. I know my Walton and I are.”

“But, Jadis is also a woman,” Eir politely pointed out from where she sat next to the boisterous orc. “Does that change the dynamic, in your opinion?”

“Well, that’s true,” Gerta paused, a crease forming in her brow. “I suppose it doesn’t change my advice, though. Some women are lazy about these things, too. I just mean to say that you all shouldn’t be.”

“Jadis isn’t being lazy,” Aila replied to Gerta’s statement. “And neither are any of us. We’re simply not committing to a ceremony at this time because of Jadis’ status as the only living Nephilim. If we have a ceremony, it will, by matter of course, become a national event. The emperor himself would likely be in attendance. We cannot simply drag Jadis to a small village temple and have a ceremony amongst ourselves, even if that is what we would prefer. Supposing we do ignore the political ramifications and have  a small ceremony with only close ties invited, what about the rest of our families? Meli, Kerr, Severina, Ammy, and Noct all have family who we would want to invite, and they all live far away from Eldingholt. Even with airships, it would not be a simple task of gathering them all together.”

The tall young woman took a deep breath, her beautiful face turned towards her mother.

“After the war is over, we will have the time we need to coordinate such an event. Please, have patience.”

“I have patience,” Senta calmly spoke as she faced her much taller daughter. “And I trust that you know what’s best when it comes to politics. I don’t know anything about such things. I’m just an old woman from a small village.”

“You aren’t old—”

“I’m old enough,” Senta pushed forward. “Old enough to have gray in my hair. Old enough to have raised a beautiful and intelligent young girl to adulthood. And also old enough to know that marriage isn’t something you set aside as an inconvenience to be dealt with at another time.”

Shifting her attention to the younger of the two elves who sat between Gerta and Aila, Senta’s stern expression turned almost pleading.

“Please, Eir, as a priestess, an oracle, and a saint, you agree, don’t you? The scriptures are clear on this matter, aren’t they?”

The demure young woman did not respond immediately. Instead, she turned a thoughtful expression onto her mother, who had remained silent for most of their conversation even before the topic had turned contentious.

“Mother? What do you think?”

Vera watched as the noblewoman nodded her acknowledgement to her daughter’s question but did not answer straight away. Truthfully, Vera was still a little nervous around the beautiful elf. Svana was so much older than any of them, and yet she looked no older than her daughter. She was also a true noblewoman, someone of great importance to the empire, unlike the rest of the mothers who had gathered that night. Svana commanded respect and authority in her own right. Vera couldn’t imagine how she was supposed to call her sister and treat her as an equal, except that not once had the elf ever held her position over any of them. It was impossible to forget who Svana was, but with how she spoke and how she acted, it was easier to see her as simply another mother who was only trying to do what was best for her daughter.

“Ulya’s scriptures do state that for a family to flourish, matrimony is a vital ingredient,” Svana spoke slowly, choosing her words carefully. “Children grow best in a household that offers them support, and two offer more support than one. Valtar’s scriptures also speak many times of the honorable rites of matrimony as well. The harmony that marriage brings to a home extends to the community, creating order and peace. A lack of connection can lead to discord and chaos.

“Then there are Lyssandria’s scriptures. For Her, love is the most important, the most important, of all things. Marriage is an expression of the devotion one feels for the one that they love. It is a symbol to all the world to see, showing that you care for the one you have chosen to bind yourself to. It is a promise between you and your loved one, an oath that is meant to endure all trials and tribulations. Love undying given a word and a form.”

Vera felt herself nodding along to Svana’s words, the same as she saw the other mothers at the table nodding and smiling in agreement. She could not have found the words to explain how she felt, even though she had listened to the priests reciting the holy scriptures at least once a week for all her life. But she had known in her heart how she felt about marriage, how much it mattered to her and to her Travers. She had not known how to say it all, but Svana did. For that, Vera wanted to hug the noblewoman.

Smiling to herself, Svana seemed lost in thought, as though her own words had reminded her of the love that she had for her husband. Then, raising her eyes, she smiled sweetly at Senta.

“Of course, it is for those same reasons that I have no concern at all about Eir and Jadis having an official ceremony.”

The sudden shift in the attitudes of all present at the table was, Vera hated to admit, comical.

“What? Lady Svana, are you saying that you don’t want them to be married?” Tyree demanded, speaking far more sharply than she normally would towards the noble elf. “The last time we spoke, you said you wanted them to be married!”

“Gods, how long have you all been conspiring behind our backs?” Bridget grumbled quietly as she glared at her mother.

“Months,” Gerta admitted without shame, but otherwise kept silent as Svana answered Tyree’s question.

“I do want them to be married,” she agreed readily, a placid smile on her beautiful face. “However, I do not believe that it is necessary, nor do I wish to force my daughter or any of your daughters into marriage before they are ready. And if they choose to never marry at all, I will still be happy for them.”

“But the scriptures!”

“Forgive me, but there are no verses in the scriptures that state marriage is required, Tyree. Not one. Not even in Valtar’s scrolls, and those are often quite… stern. Marriage is a blessing, and it is encouraged. Not required. Not for family, not for peace, and not for love. If Eir and Jadis and all of the others are happy as they are, and the gods have no complaint either, then who am I to object to their choices?”

Having made her argument, the elf delicately picked up one of the small puff pastries and took a dainty bite, chewing sedately on the morsel before inclining her head towards the stunned goblin woman.

“Oh, and please, Tyree, you do not need to be formal with me. We are family! Just call me Svana.”

While the silence lingered, the truth bolstered her courage and, with a smile, Vera spoke.

“She is right,” she said softly as she took her daughter’s hand under the table and squeezed. “They are all in a loving relationship. They support each other. They care for each other’s needs. They protect and defend each other. A ceremony would make me feel better, but I know that they are happy, and they are in love. Honestly, if the proof of their own bonded classes is not enough to show their commitment, then their word should be enough.”

The look that was shared between Senta and Tyree told Vera that the two were not happy, but the fight had gone out of them. She had spent a lot of time with them while living in the strange compound that Jadis had bought for their families, and she understood the two well. They weren’t bad people. They weren’t even all that pushy in the day-to-day life that they shared in the compound. The two just cared dearly for their daughters and wanted what they thought was best for them.

“I understand your point,” Senta finally replied with a frown. “I… I didn’t mean to imply that Jadis isn’t dedicated to you, Aila. Or to you, Eir, Bridget, Sorcha, and Thea. She clearly loves all of you, and I know all of you love her. I just… I would love to see my little bean pole married to the one she loves. Marrying Vikwas was the best thing that ever happened to me. I want you to have the same feeling.”

“I think I do understand that feeling,” Aila said, her eyes sharing a meaningful glance with the other young women at the table. “I think I know it very well.”

Then, in an act that was clearly spurred on by impulse, Aila swiftly bent down and kissed Senta on the top of her head. When she straightened, her gaze dared anyone to say anything while she did her very best not to let her blush spread across her face.

Vera couldn’t help but grin as she felt her daughter squeeze her hand back under the table.

“Well, I think that’s that, Ty,” Gerta said congenially as she turned to look at the smaller woman. “We’re just going to have to wait.”

“Yes, fine,” Tyree mumbled, still not entirely pleased, but Vera could see the way she was sitting much closer to her blushing daughter. “After the war. But we can still plan some of it now, can’t we? If it’s going to be the ridiculous spectacle that Aila says it’s going to be, we could do with some preparation.”

“Mum, please,” Sorcha whined like a little girl. “Can’t we talk about something else?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Eir said as she grinned at the goblin. “I think Tyree has a good point. We should do a little planning ahead, shouldn’t we? Our dear Jadis tries her best, but we all know how she is when it comes to planning.”

As Sorcha gave Eir the most betrayed look Vera had ever seen, Gerta made her own opinion known.

“We came out to this fancy duck to discuss a wedding,” the orc woman said as she hugged her own daughter. “It seems a waste not to at least talk about a little bit of a ceremony, right?”

Expressing a look and a tone that was identical to her own daughter’s sly teasing, Svana turned her gaze directly onto Vera. For the briefest of moments, as that predatory, feline smile filled her vision, Vera was reminded of what it felt like to be a mouse again.

“There is one other wedding we could discuss, presuming Vera has accepted Tegwyn’s offer.”

The wild, wide-eyed stare that her sweet daughter turned on her would have made Vera laugh, if she wasn’t so busy blushing a shade of crimson to match the two elves in the room.

“He proposed!?” both Bridget and Sorcha asked in shock.

Vera wasn’t entirely sure how Svana had found out, but she must have been saving the secret for that moment since even Eir looked taken aback by the announcement. Rather than deny or shrink under the intense examination of every woman in the room, Vera lightly shrugged while her free hand combed through the hair she had pulled over her shoulder.

“I decided to accept last night,” she admitted. “I just haven’t told him yet.”

“You’re going to marry him!?”

“You’re actually going to marry Tegwyn? Truly?”

Aila and Senta’s demands were spoken at the same time, the two women looking very much alike in their expression.

“Congratulations!” Eir expressed warmly, though she gave her mother a censuring look. “He loves you so deeply, I am not at all surprised that he has asked for your hand.”

“I guess I’m not either,” Gerta said as she sat back in her seat, a giddy look on her face. “I just figured he would have taken longer to ask! Dryads are supposed to take a long time about things, aren’t they? Comes with being part tree, right?”

“Dryads aren’t part tree, mom…”

“Well, it’s about the same thing, isn’t it?”

“He had some extra motivation to ask,” Vera explained, not quite able to meet her daughter’s searching gaze. “He might have felt… compelled.”

“What, because of Kastoria?” Bridget turned away from her mother. “Or I guess the war in general?”

“Well, no,” Vera shook her head as her hand slipped from her hair and rested on top of her stomach. “I think the pregnancy is what settled the decision for him.”

The silence that followed her announcement was deafening. Pulling on that confidence that Travers had given her so long ago, Vera sat up straighter and turned, facing her pale-faced daughter. Smiling, she kept a firm grip on her cold hand.

“This isn’t how I planned on telling you, but… Bertha confirmed it a few weeks ago. You’re going to have a younger brother.”

“B—B—B—Brother?”

Ah. Well. The stammer was a work in progress.