CONTENT WARNINGS
- There is some nudity in this chapter, but there is NOTHING inappropriate or NSFW shown. One of them is blurred as well, so nothing to worry about.
- childbirth (sometimes described in some detail), consumption / under the influence of alcohol (nothing bad or negative, it's in good fun), mild sexual humour, and more mentions of- you guessed it- good ol' fashioned murder and death by illness.
[Oskar's letter to Reynold]
I hope this letter finds you well.
I am sure you are doing well as father of the monastery. Though I hate to interrupt what is likely important duties, I believe now may be the time to return to Nebelstadt. Áine is healthy and is doing well, but she has not come out of her room as often as she usually does. Perhaps she is just exhausted from her pregnancy, but I believe it may be something more exciting, something that you would definitely not want to miss. Violeta and I have gathered a few necessary pieces for the new arrival, but you may want to bring a few extra necessities along just in case. I am sure you are concerned given your last interaction, but I can assure you that she would be overjoyed to see you again.
Hoping to see you soon,
- Oskar Leonhard Nivelheim
(there seems to be a crudely-drawn wolf at the bottom of the page.)
Reynold
It seems Oskar got a little festive, and has made wooden reindeer for outside the house. I leave Elias's horse in the stable. Elias's reaction left me on edge, wondering why I needed the horse this time. I don't think my 'I hired a horse and carriage' lie caught on, but we can worry about that later.
You'd half expect the undead to hate public holidays, to be utterly sick and tired of them- but no, not Oskar. The entire house is decorated in festive trimmings, with a decorated fir tree in the middle. How he got the little star to light up on top is beyond me.
I spot him in his usual place, in front of the fire,with a glass of what I can only assume is spiced bloodfruit wine.
"Ah! Father Morgan! Good to see you again. Come, join the festivities. I made some pretzels if you're peckish. Whilst you're here, I might see if I can finally perfect my family's stollen recipe..."
If he couldn't get a family recipe right after almost one hundred and sixty years, I doubt I'm going to even try any of those pretzels.
"Not for now, thank you. Where is-"
"She's still in her room. I think she's resting. I haven't heard her stir all day. Best to leave her be for the time being. Well? How is it being in charge of the monastery?"
Even the first week or so has been unbelievably hectic. Haven't even made a start on what we're going to do over Winterfest. We didn't even have anyone in the refuge at the moment. All of them had taken off to find new lives, and all I can hope in the era of Lord Volpe is that they found them.
"Well, I suppose..."
Ever since we spoke in the basement, I've had a question. If Áine is resting, perhaps now is the time to ask. I doubt I'd be a burden; Oskar seems to love nothing more than giving unsolicited advice. Maybe he loves giving solicited advice just as much.
"Oskar, there's been something I've been meaning to ask you. I didn't have the time to write a letter, but... I don't know. I'm worried it's too personal-"
"Too personal?" He lets out a devilish cackle. "Nothing is too personal for me, Reynold. Ask away."
Very well.
"I've been thinking about what you said in the basement- about us not being so different. I wanted to ask you about how you...came to terms with vampirism, I guess. How you coped with everything."
I see a subtle smile lift on the corners of his mouth. He's been waiting for me to ask, hasn't he?
"Well, you've done well to ask now. I don't know how much longer I'm going to be sober for," he says, and his laugh suggests he hasn't been sober for hours. “Well, one of my simpler ones is that I used to count bats to myself to distract me from the bloodlust. Didn't always work, but sometimes it did. Highest I ever got to was four-hundred and twenty five. I suppose if you wanted, you could count wolves instead.
Then I focused more on my woodwork- that was what kept me level-headed even before I turned. Sometimes I'd just chip off a wooden block aimlessly just to get the aggression out- that was before I became a soldier, anyhow, but I don't think the frontline is any place for a Peteran abbot, is it?"
Oskar puts his wine glass down on the table, striding over to me like a cat and circling my chair like a carrion bird. I put my coat on the hanger and settle down to relax; I think I'll be here with Oskar a while...
"Those are just the basics, however. You know what- you describe it to me, Reynold. You tell me exactly how you see yourself as one of the Lunvinchenaîné."
It's hard to think with him stood behind me, leaning his elbow on the back of the chair and his chin on his hand. After a moment, he starts making ticking noises with his tongue.
"I don't know how I'd describe it, exactly. All I know is that 'moon-chained' is the perfect description. I don't feel like my own person most of the time. I don't know how much of me is Lunvin, and how much of me is the wolf-"
"Oh, but you do."
No, I don't. Why doesn't he listen? I can't look at him. There's something smug and mocking about him that's irritating me, but I know I'm thinking irrationally. It's annoying me because he thinks he knows everything, but he knows a lot more than most of us put together- and more than he's letting on.
"I used to struggle the same way you did, Reynold, and one realisation that made the biggest change for me was accepting myself as a whole."
"A whole? What do you-"
A dark shadow envelopes him, and he dives onto the armchair seat. I flinch at the sight of him- glowing blue eyes, sharp fangs, greying skin with dark veins, and even claws. Not the kind of man you'd want approaching you in the darkness and the fog...
"You see, Reynold, as privileged men-"
"Privileged?"
"Oh, don't scoff at me. I knew your father, Alistair. I know you aren't the working-class hero the Peterans think you are. Don't worry, neither was I. We lived comfortably off our woodwork. Nothing to be ashamed of, really."
Oskar knew my father? He never spoke of Oskar at all. He said he was a soldier at one point- maybe they fought alongside each other against the witchfinders. I won't ask about it right now, but it seems the world is even smaller than it seems.
"As I was saying- you and I are luckier than most. We've never had to tone down our chaotic side. We can break the rules if we so wish. Our violence is often justified. Yes, arcane blood makes that a little more complicated, but the point still stands. You and I must use our place in the world to improve it for the less fortunate, which I'm sure you've been doing plenty of at the monastery. I believe that you can still do plenty of good, even when you are the werewolf."
I don't know if I entirely get where he's coming from. I don't think anyone does. Everything is laced with a cryptic edge, always on the edge of meaning. Maybe he's just pushing me to do some of the thinking.
"Whatever you hear about the richest of men and their obsessions with wolves, they know absolutely nothing of them. I've been observing the packs around Nebelstadt for years, and the alpha males are not vicious, heartless predators. They are loyal protectors who will do anything for their own. They use their strength and their position to do their best for the pack."
Oskar has a point. Whenever I acted out when I was younger, it was always that Reynold can't help it, that it's just his way, he's just like that, it's Lunvin, not him. Whenever Clem rightfully bit back, she'd get made to do extra chores or told to be quiet. It's taken me far too long to try to truly understand my sister, and how furious she must have been her entire life knowing how I'd treated her, and how my father had treated her. In a way, turning into a werewolf was cathartic. I always came to dazed, but strangely calm. Clem didn't have any catharsis like that. No-one to turn to, nothing to turn into.
I wonder if that's why he's so protective of Áine, then- not just because she reminds him of his daughter, not just because she's pregnant. Is it part of his distractive technique, or an attempt at redemption? Hard to tell. In my dark curiosity, I risk his ire.
"Have you ever killed innocents?"
"I have, in the distant past. About forty-six people, all from the rough ages of twenty to seventy. This was over one hundred years ago. I have all of their names written in one of my diaries. I memorised them long ago, but since then, the memory has faded. I lost control of my bloodlust so many times that I couldn't cope with the guilt- now, I feel no such thing. I try my best to stick with the bloodfruit, and when the thirst is too much, then it's either animals or preferably any awful person."
I don't get how anyone can live without feeling remorse. How would you know how to act? How to treat people with kindness, or with a little defensive spite?
"Can I ask who turned you?"
I've never seen him take on such an expression. He freezes, staring straight ahead for a second. "Violeta. I asked her to." His response is a little snappier than I expected, but his voice soon dissolves into something quieter "I...I know that I said nothing was too personal, Reynold, but there are the occasional memories which are too much to bear some days. Please forgive me."
"No, forgive me, Oskar. I didn't mean to pry."
"Oh, don't be silly," he says, lapsing straight back into whimsy. "Anyhow, I can hear something upstairs. Perhaps you ought to go and see Áine. I'm sure she'll be delighted to see you. And should the inevitable arise, call on me if needed."
I give him as genuine a 'thank you' as I can give. All this time, maybe all I really needed was someone who understood what it was like....but why couldn't that person have been my father? I loved him with all of my heart, but I still couldn't forgive him for not telling me about how to cope with the werewolf transformation. If he did, it'd have prevented so many terrible things.
* * *
"I can't imagine what it must be like, you know...to have a child. I don't have the emotional attachment to become a mother, otherwise I'd have taken one in, or had a child of my own if I ever fell in love with another vampire."
"At least you realised your emotional detachment before having a child, Violeta. One less child in a life of misery. You know, I've imagined what it must be like to have a child also. I think it's fascinating, actually. Read all about it in an old book I'd found years back on a park bench. I'd give it a go if I could."
"'Give it a go?' Where do I start? One, it's impossible if your partner is alive, because you're undead. On top of that, you've never wanted a partner. Second, it requires a certain...procedure...which you have also never had any interest in. Thirdly, and most importantly, you're a man!"
"Oh, I see. So you think because I'm a man, I wouldn't make a good parent, is that it?"
"No! Nothing of the sort! Because you don't have what you need to be a parent!"
"I beg your pardon?"
"Physically speaking, I mean! It's impossible!"
"Oh, come on, Violeta, have a little faith in the way of the world. Things we thought were impossible in our day are completely possible now. If you think about it, nothing is impossible."
"No, I really think this time it is imposs-You know, Oskar, sometimes I question why we're still friends. Almost one hundred and thirty years of these inane conversations."
"Because we'd both go mad without the other. We keep each other in line-"
"I suppose you're right there-"
"And everyone else within five-hundred miles of Nebelstadt would be terrified of you if they knew about you."
"Well, this too."
* * *
I carefully make my way up the stairs. I hear a soft moaning sound coming from behind the door of the master bedroom, and a nervous dread fills my chest. I open the door and quietly mutter her name, and her eyes seem to glitter when she looks towards me. She struggles to lift herself off of the bed, and I tell her to stay where she is, but she throws her arms around me. Our child is a little restless inside of her.
"I said so many horrible things to-"
"Now isn't the time," I say to her softly, with a kiss on her forehead. "You don't need to apologise for anything." I put a gentle hand to our child, and a flurry of excitment flares up.
"I'm surprised at how much you've grown since we last spoke," I say, not realising I've said it instead of thought it until she chuckles.
"I could say the same about you," she teases, poking me in the stomach. She leans over and grimaces a little, so I help her back onto the bed. It's hard to tell the difference between nerves and excitement right now.
"Oh, come on- you know I mean that in a nice way," I reply, with a chuckle. "I think it's cute."
"As do I," she says, with a playful grin, though there's an undertone of concern.
"Oskar sent a letter, I'm guessing?"
"He did. He said he thought you were-"
"Nearing that time... I thought it was going to happen the other day, but it didn't. Felt like it for a moment, though..."
"How have you both been, anyway?"
"He's been really attentive. I appreciate him a lot. If it weren't for him taking me in, then-"
Her hands are shaking, so I hold them. Her grip tightens, and I gently reassure her. I feel awful for her. Usually, this was a time spent amongst other women, but she didn't have any other women around that she trusted right now. There was no-one around who understood what she was going through.
I notice the white moonstone I gifted her on the end table. I place it in her other hand, and tell her to roll it around in her palm. "It's charged with lunar magic. Should still be good if you haven't used it for anything. The lunar magic should help with the pain...at least, somewhat."
"It's not so bad right now," she mutters, her eyes intently focused on mine. "What were you and Oskar talking about downstairs? Sounded like he was going into his theatrics again."
"Oh. I just asked him a few things. Then we spoke about the werewolf and...well, I think I have a better idea of how to think about it now."
She stares into the white moonstone, and looks back to me. "How are we going to raise a werewolf?"
"It'll be fine. I'll know how to deal with it. When she's old enough, I'll do what my father didn't do. I'll tell her what to expect, how to try and control her emotions and such. I'll probably have to avoid you on a night of the full moon. I wouldn't hurt you, but I don't want to be all irritable around you, and it's not always easy to control."
"We'll get through it," she replies, running a hand through my hair. "One thing I was hoping to discuss...a little last-minute...was names. Any ideas?"
"I do, but...I think I'd rather hear your ideas first." We had discussed names a few times, but we had so many ideas that we never really got around to narrowing them down. Áine told me all about an old pregnancy book she'd read on Oskar's shelf amongst his fairly-random collection of old tomes- and she'd fallen for the old wives' tales on predicting the baby's sex. She's convinced herself so much that she's having a girl that she never considered any boys' names at all. I'm not sure if she's entirely aware of the various scientific advances that have been made since his time.
"I was thinking of either Fiadh, or Róisín. I remember hearing those somewhere in my childhood all those years ago and I've loved them ever since."
"Well, if you've loved them for that long, then I say we'll go with either of those. They sound a lot nicer than the couple of ideas I had. Unique."
She draws me in for a surprise kiss.
It's hard not to be terrified. I keep having dreadful thoughts of losing her, or our child. Nowadays, people knew a little better how to look after a birthing woman, and the importance of hygeine during the procedure. I'm sure Oskar would heat up some water and give us a few blankets and such if we need it, but even then...No, now isn't the time. I have to override those thoughts as much as possible, for both our sakes. As horrified as I am at the thought of something devastating happening, I need to force those thoughts into something positive.
Áine throws her head back into the cushions, and her grip on my fingers is painfully tight, and for longer this time. It pains me to see her like this, but all I can do is help her through.
"It's alright, Áine," I whisper. "I'm here. We'll get through this together. Okay?"
She responds with a frantic nod.
Áine
The pain wasn't so bad at first, but it found a way to become less and less manageable the further along we got. The white moonstone helped, but even with the help of lunar magic, it felt horrific. When I lay down, my back felt as if it were on fire. When I tried a squatting position, it was my legs. Whichever way we tried, I forced myself to accept that it would be agonising in some way. How? How did my mother do this? How have so many other women done this?
The pressure on my lower half was an almost-indescribable level of discomfort. I'd just apologised for the ways I'd spoken to Reynold months back, and now here I was doing the same. Oskar even brought in some hot water, blankets, and some bread for me to nibble, and I'd screamed at him to get out.
"You don't need to apologise for anything, do you?" Reynold says. "Do what you need to, okay?"
I don't know if he understands me, but I try to tell him that I don't know what I'm doing. I'm doing it wrong.
"You couldn't do it wrong if you tried," he replies, running a hand down my back. "Your body knows what it's doing, I promise. You're doing amazing."
The only thing keeping me going was knowing that the burning, stinging and aching all had a purpose to it. The reward at the end would make me forget everything for just a moment. All I have to do is keep going, and eventually, I'll meet her- my sweet little girl.
* * *
Reynold's sweet affirmations are going in one ear and out of the other. I can feel what must be the baby's head emerging. I keep thinking the agony couldn't get any worse, and yet it finds a way every time...
I grip the white moonstone as tightly as I can, and almost crush Reynold's fingers in the other hand. I don't know how long I've been doing this for now- it feels like it's almost been a whole day, perhaps even longer. I'd managed to sleep a little earlier, but not now- it's impossible. It all feels impossible. Even with Reynold telling me I'm doing well, I feel like I can't do it. Babies always look so small when they're just born, but they certainly don't feel it.
I try to think of my own mother, as if she were here with me. She is the kind of mother I want to be to my daughter. I want to teach her to love, and I want to teach her to stand her ground. I want her to care for others, but not to let the care for others overtake her care for herself.
My throat burns. The moaning had erupted into near-screaming when I felt my daughter's head, but it's not doing me any good. I try to breathe through it, Reynold doing his best to guide me along.
I notice him peer down at my daughter, and a slight smile appears on his face.
"I think we're almost there!" he says, giddy with excitment. "You've done really well, Áine- I'm proud of you. Just this last little bit."
The whole moment, I don't take my eyes off of his. In all my exhaustion, I make one last endeavour to deliver my daughter as Reynold moves to the other end of the bed. I hear a sound of something wet dropping onto something soft, and Reynold's eyes light up like I've never seen them before.
I throw my head back into the pillow, breathing deeply to myself in an amalgam of disbelief, exhaustion, and excitement. I keep asking him, is she okay? Is she okay? She sounds awfully quiet...
After a moment, I notice him drying her off with a towel, and patting her gently on the back until a shrill cry escapes her lips. The tears from my eyes are no longer from the pain, but the joy of hearing and seeing my daughter for the first time. She's tiny, unimaginably tiny. Reynold holds her in his arms, tears down his face trying to calm her down.
"Alright, alright. I'm not that bad," he says, and her cries fade into soft chirps. "I'm glad to meet you too."
Reynold
She's gorgeous- perfect in every possible way. When she calms down, and her eyes flutter open, they're the exact same shade of green as mine.
I don't want to let her go. I hold her close to my chest to warm her up, and she brings her hand to her face, exploring the strange new world she's found herself in.
I worry when she goes quiet, but I can hear her making little content noises in her throat. I have endless thanks for the Watcher, and for my partner, who worked so hard for months to keep her safe. I don't think Áine will ever know how much I truly appreciate her; I don't think I could ever find the words for it.
Already, within just a few minutes or so, she'd settled down in my arms, gently kicking my hand with her feet. She's even smaller than I imagined she would be. My human blood wanted to love her and hold her, and my wolf blood felt a fierce protection for her, something so sweet and defenseless.
I notice Áine trying to lift herself out of bed, still groaning from the pain.
"You should get back to bed for now. I don't think you're done yet. You still have the aft-"
She holds her arms down , crossed by her chest. I drag the stool from the corner of the room, and as she sits down, I carefully pass our daughter to her. Her little feet and toes start twitching, curious as to who this mysterious new person could be...
Áine
After all this time, all of the anticipation, the panic, the excitment...my daughter has arrived, seemingly healthy. When she opens her eyes and they meet mine, they look just like her father's. When she's a little bigger, we'll see what she's picked up from me.
"Don't panic, sweetheart," I whisper to her. "It's me. Your mother."
She must recognise my voice. She reaches out a little hand, stretching her tiny fingers.
"And you, you are...Róisín. Róisín Fiadh Ó Sé, the daughter of both the Sun and the Moon. And you're very much loved."
Her eyes gaze up at me again, mesmerised by this bright and colourful new world, stretching out her little arms and legs and realising she's not all cramped anymore- that there's a lot of exploring to do here.
Róisín, I am going to give you the best life I can give you.
[Reynold's writings with the Watcher]
Kindest Watcher, I ask for your blessing upon my daughter, Róisín, and for your sunburst to shine upon her and guide her towards the path of light. She's beautiful, and I've never felt joy comparable to seeing her little face for the first time. I understand that things will become difficult to balance from here on out- family life, working on myself, and at the monastery- but I will do the best I can for everyone- my family, my people, and for myself. I will be the best Father I can, to the Peterans and to my daughter. I will guide her through the highs and lows of our shared blood. She won't repeat my mistakes, and I won't repeat my father's.
[Áine's letter to Róisín, to be given to her in the future]
My beautiful daughter,
I am writing this letter a day after your birth. You are everything I could have wanted and more. I am beyond thankful for you. This world is not kind to us, but I will do everything I can to protect you. I will teach you how to protect yourself. I want you to be kind and loving, but not in any way that is detrimental to you. You must always be your own priority. If anyone tries to hurt you, do whatever you must to protect yourself. I love you, and I always will. You are a daughter of both the Sun and the Moon and you shine with the radiance of both.
- Your mother, Áine.
[Oskar's letter to Róisín, to be given to her in the future]
Róisín,
As of now, you have just been born. You are the cutest I have seen in so long, and you are a semblance of life in a town drenched in death. I held you in a blanket for a short while, and just looking at you made me feel a thousand emotions that I have not felt in such a long time. Your presence is something special to all of us. A reminder that there will always be good things even when all seems bleak, and a reminder to those who may hunt us that we still exist, that we will not cease to exist, nor will be submit to them.
As one of the Lunvinchenaîné- the 'moon-shackled'- you may struggle to deal with your feelings, especially when Lunvin, the Moon, is bright in the night sky. You must do all you can to learn to understand yourself and your emotions, and I am sure your father will be glad to help. Both of your parents are incredible, and I am more than sure that you lead a happy and fulfilling life with them by your side.
Though you should do your part to help your friends and family, be cautious of strangers, and do not let anyone try to harm you in any way. Anything you do to defend yourself is entirely justified. Save your feelings for those who deserve your emotional availability.
I do not currently know how much involvement I will have in your life- I don't know what the future holds, but I know that you are in good hands, and that you will grow up to do incredible things. You will make your family proud. Should I be closely involved in your upbringing, I will not let any harm come to you. I will assist you best as I can with anything you may need. Should I still be living in Nebelstadt when you read this letter, my doors are always welcome to you should you need it.
All the best to you,
- Oskar Leonhard Nivelheim