This is a story inspired by Zandar's Saga and The Ballad of Adler Young, both by  tegerio, and The Thin Line by  eocostello.

It features characters and settings from my own Realm of Faerie story, Rajjan Tor.

Thumbnail taken from this sketch by the talented  xombiehamster.

The story will, over its course, feature Mature and even Adult situations, so be patient and enjoy!

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Part One.


“I’m pregnant.”

For a second that seemed to last years, Ayyub didn’t say a word. When he finally spoke, he stuttered, “S – Sh – P – pre – “

Isabeau slammed a paw over his muzzle even as she stuffed a pillow into her mouth. Her eyes shut tightly and she began to shake.

At first Ayyub was concerned that he’d done or said something wrong, but then it dawned on him.

She was laughing.

When the muffled guffaws subsided into quiet giggling, she managed to pull the pillow from her muzzle. “Hehehe . . . ohh, Ayyub . . . hehe . . .”

He blinked at her in the semidarkness.

“You should have seen the look on your face!” she exclaimed in a hoarse whisper before collapsing into another giggling fit. She snuggled closer to him as she tried to get control of herself, leaving him holding her close and mentally shaking his head.

He silently asked Tilki to kindly stop playing tricks on him.

Finally, she stopped laughing and he asked, “So, you’re not?”

“No.”

The fennec drew a deep breath and ran his uninjured paw through her headfur. “You’re mean, you are.”

She stifled another giggle and nuzzled under his chin. “I’m sorry.”

“I mean, here I lie, a wounded warrior,” and he gave a very theatrical sigh, “maimed for life – and you try to kill me.”

She pinched the tip of his ear. “Now you’re being mean, Ayyub.”

He chuckled and hugged her again. “Truce?”

She pouted a bit, then smiled. “Truce.”

They lay there for a few minutes, and Ayyub just listened to her breathing. “You know,” he said softly, “um, Isabeau – “

“Yes, Maiteak?” she whispered, using the upland word ‘Beloved.’

His teeth could be seen in the dim light. “There’s nothing that says we have to stop trying.”

His kiss muffled her delighted giggle as his paws moved under the covers. She broke the kiss and placed her paws over his. “Wait! Wait, Ayyub.”

“Why? I thought you were eager.”

“Um – “

“Well?”

“Um, I-I guess I’m not.” He felt her tail twitching.

“So what’s going on? Tell me.”

He felt, and heard, her breath hitch in her throat, and she hugged him tightly.

She started shaking, and it occurred to him that she was crying. His paws stroked her back soothingly as he waited for her.

Finally she whispered, “You . . . you went south.”

“Yes.”

“You – ulp! – could have been killed.” Her grip on his fur tightened.

“You were afraid of losing me,” he whispered.

He felt her nod against him.

Ayyub slipped a finger under her chin and lifted her face a bit. Her facial fur felt damp as he brushed at her muzzle. “And,” he said slowly, in a soft voice, “you wanted . . . to make sure . . . “

She sniffled. “Th-that if you d-d-didn’t . . . “

He nodded and held her close again. Whispering in her ear he said, “If I have to ride out again, Maiteak, it’ll be because I have no choice.” She looked up at him. “I’m wounded, you know. It was the Lady’s will that I got away with losing two fingers.”

He didn’t add that he privately thought his loss was Fuma’s price for the prophecy she’d given him.

Muffled by his chest fur, she said, “B-but . . . if you do go out again . . . “

“There’ll be time for that,” he said quietly, stroking her reassuringly, “when it comes.”

He felt her start crying again, and held her close until she, then he, drifted off to sleep.