Something was wrong.

The spring rains had danced in and out of the Col all season. Days of wet and days of dry. The early hours of morning brought with it a steady downpour. A soothing sound in the ear of the Consort of The Armada. It pulled her into a deeper soothing slumber. A low rumble sounded in the distance as she began to dream. She twitched and mumbled in her sleep.

The downspout of rain began to intensify. The splashes echoed through the Warlords quarters and a flicker of light danced down the cavern halls, followed by a growing growl of thunder. Dawn had yet to break and still, the rain fell with growing vigor.

A voice began to groan then fade. At first low and quiet, covered by the sounds of the storm outside. Ignita pressed into the Warlord's fur, still ensconced in a world of dreams. Her paws braced against his side, her body too large and heavy with pups to snuggle under his head between his paws. A groan emanated from her sleepy maw again then faded.

A flicker of light flashed from outside immediately followed by a thunderous crash and a blood curdling scream. Her breaths came in short bursts. Her back arched against the growing pain.

She gasped. Awake now. The dawn was barely an hour away. Her breaths ragged and shakey she stood and circled within the nest she had made on the bed. It was happening. It was happening now and she was trembling.


"Ignita"

It wasn’t the thunder that woke him, but the low moans that came from his fiance as she pressed into his coat. When it came to her, he was sensitive to her sounds. A light sleeper. He woke, and kissed her cheek, still mostly asleep himself. He wondered what dream had caused her to make a sound. He let his eyes flicker closed again, and the thunder came. Roaring across the sky, and with it the sound of Ignita’s scream. He jolted fully awake this time, moving to pull at her but she was already awake. Circling, distressed and trembling.

He understood in an instant. Ollie hadn't returned the night before from his latest venture our for cures. Curse his timing.“Fetch Marina!” He snarled at his companions, commanding their immediate obedience. They fled, and he crouched before Ignita, watching her circle."Basilisk"  “What can I do, my love?” He asked her softly. Not sure if she would even be able to answer him

"Jamie"||"Iskandor"||"Citadel"||"Selene"||"Balrog"||"Ignita"||"Basilisk"

A constricting snake of pain took her breath away and she sat heavily down on her hips. The time to ask her questions had already passed. She couldn't answer any. Her breath returned to her as the contraction ended. She wasn't feeling any movement. She pushed her head into the edge of the furs as another contraction hit her and she pushed. She pushed and she pushed and pushed. As the contraction ended she laid her head over the furs, sweating and groaning. Nothing.

Her eyes darted up to his. Something was wrong. She let the next contraction constrict her body with a groan until it released her, still leaving her panting.

Her eyes closed to the world as she smacked her lips. Her mouth was drier than the deserts of her birth. The scrubland a mere echo in a fading unimportant memory. She moaned again trying to bring words to her parched lips. She could have sworn she had drunk her fill earlier that evening.

“Som-Something…” She breathed a ragged breath, “Wrong-” Another contraction squeezed her from within, she drew in a breath and curled inward, using the muscles already squeezing to push what she could. She growled into the effort a low and rumbling desperate growl. It released her again with a gasp and she swung her head to press it into the furs. Would the healer know what was happening?

One paw reached out toward him, wanting to just grasp his arm and press herself into his fur. She wanted him near.


"Jamie"||"Iskandor"||"Citadel"||"Selene"||"Balrog"||"Ignita"||"Basilisk"

The quarantine was coming down. Almost all of the Armada had been infected by this strange blight by now and while none had died so far, Marina was just waiting for the first of them to start dropping like flies. So far, her medical gear had kept her safe, though it hadn't protected her from gravity. The she-wolf walked with a limp, her hind leg still bandaged and healing from her impalement. It would take some time to know the full extent of the damage or if she'd ever walk right again, but by the grace of the gods, she wouldn't be maimed for life in this hellscape of a wasteland.

The arrival of the Warlord's falcon to summon her to him was an unwelcome surprise. Marina sneered at the bird, but did as she was bid. The going was slow, but Marina eventually hobbled her way back to the Col, following the falcon at her handicapped pace, getting pelted and drenched by the downpour. Whatever he wanted, it had better have been good to make her weather this storm. When she arrived at the tyrant's den, the sounds coming from within were... unsettling. Groans and growls of pain, ragged breathing, all the things you never wanted to hear as a doctor. Marina's expression drew tight with concern as she entered the den.

And her concern was warranted. Inside, she found the Warlord and his once-slave consort, the latter so round with pups she looked fit to burst. How she'd ever managed to carry Basilisk's mutant children to term were a medical marvel. Perhaps if she didn't survive this ordeal, Marina could conduct the autopsy and find out what Ignita was made of that made her so incredibly durable. "You summoned me." She spoke directly to Basilisk, paying only a sideways glance to the femme in agony. It wasn't a question. "I'm assuming because of this?" Marina turned her attention to Ignita, limping her way over to where she lay on her bed. Lilac eyes did a cursory triage over her. Labored breathing, muscles tensed and flexing rhythmically, excruciating pain etched on her face... "Has she taken anything to help the process yet? Do you have herbs in here for the birth?"

"Marina"

Basilisk watched as Ignita pushed and struggled. He knew nothing about birthing, and felt lost watching her. Dammit, where was Marina? When she reached for him he took her paw, folding his larger one over hers. He found himself growling softly, and cut it when he realised. Ignita didn't need his anxiety.


Marina finally appeared, and the sounds of Ignitas distress had put a wild glint in Bas’ eyes. He snapped his teeth together to bite back a sharp remark, and instead nodded his head. He needed Marina.


“Yes, Oleander had an emergency kit made up.” He said, fetching it and putting it in front of Marina. “Get her and the kids out of this alive, and I'll return your pendant. Today.” He said, voice a low growl.

Ignita grasped and clawed at his offered paw, pulling him as another contraction urged her to push. The effort made her dizzy and weak. The sounds around her grew muffled and her vision tunneled before the contraction relaxed and let her go again, her body going limp against the effort. She wanted this, she wanted this, didn't she? She wanted his children. His children!

She was only mildly aware of the slave healer in the den as she huffed to catch her breath. She could hear him growl through the haze of pain and discomfort. Her golden eyes opened to him in alarm to see what he was growling about, not even aware that she was concerned with soothing him for just a moment. Suddenly he was gone from her grasping just as another contraction hit and she swung her head up with a whining scream turning into a guttural growl as the muscles rippled through her organs to push.

"Something's WRONG!" She yowled angrily and swiped at a ball of furs and then sank her teeth into it, quickly pulling it to shreds. As soon as he was back within her grasp she pushed her head into his chest with a moan as the contraction let her go again and she swayed her hips limply back and forth, her claws clinging to his arm as she breathed and cried.

"Basilisk" || "Iggy"

Marina looked with something akin to contempt up at the Warlord when he snapped his teeth in her direction. Ohh, so menacing... He was behaving today though. He knew he needed her, or another healer. It did make her wonder why he had called for her. Was this some sort of a test? Either way, he confirmed the existence of a birthing kit and fetched it for her. While Ignita wailed about something being wrong, Marina simply shot her an apathetic look. No shit something was wrong. The idiot had chosen to breed with a wolf almost three times her size. What had she expected to happen? Minding her bedside manners, Marina decided to bite her tongue and not mention how Ignita was likely not going to survive this ordeal. Not without some manner of miracle from the gods. It was what she deserved for having willingly fucked her way into the favor of the wretched tyrant.

But Marina's entire disposition changed when Basilisk made her a deal—save Ignita and their pups and she'd be given her mentagion back. The fae's paws frozen in shock, lilac eyes turning up to scrutinize the Warlord's expression. Was he fucking with her? No... he was desperate. Up until now, Marina had simply not cared whether Ignita and the pups lived or perished, but now there was something at stake for her. "I'll do what I can. But you may have already condemned her to death the moment you decided to spill your seed in her," she muttered, voice steady and stern, all business. It was a harsh truth, but Marina was not here to sugarcoat reality. Basilisk should have known better. If she died, this was his doing and she wanted him to know that.

Fortunately, it seemed Oleander had set the soon-to-be parents up for success. The birthing kit held everything she could have wanted for. Trillium, motherwort, alfalfa, ginseng, meadowsweet... All the essentials and then some were here. Taking up the meadowsweet and motherwort, Marina moved over to the writhing Ignita and sat down beside her, placing a paw on the painfully stretched skin of her belly, digits tenderly probing at her womb to identify where the pups were in relation to one another. "Ignita, I know you're in pain, but I need you to do exactly as I say, okay? Open your mouth, eat these plants." Marina held the herbs before Ignita's muzzle, knowing they would help ease the contractions into more manageable rates and soothe some of the pain. She didn't want to jump to the more powerful trillium just yet. Too much could prove fatal.

"The pups are making their way out. When you feel your muscles contract, push as hard as you can. Bite Basilisk if it helps, but don't stop pushing until the muscle spasms stop. If something feels wrong, tell me what you're feeling and we'll fix it." Marina shot a wicked look of enjoyment up at the Warlord. She hoped Ignita bit him hard. "Basilisk, fetch water, an empty bowl, and something I can crush these plants with." If Ignita lost consciousness during the birth, Marina would need another way to administer medicine without her actively chewing.

"Marina"

He narrowed his eyes at Marina, but again he held his tongue. In any other situation he would have smacked her down for those words. He had researched with healers and taken careful consideration before he and Ignita had taken the risk. The blight, and Oleander's absence were terrible blows. He was afraid. His lead healer had trained with birthing experts for this exact scenario. What did Marina know?


He clutched Ignita paw gently when she butted her head against him, reaching out for him. Marina got to work, sorting through the herbs and grabbing what she needed. He eyed her with a steady mistrust, but he was backed into a corner. At least he had power over Marina. He took off her pendant and placed it to the side, out of the way. A reminder, and a promise. He was willing to relinquish control of it.


The little that Ignita seemed to have adopted got to his paws. Basilisk tensed, until it grabbed the bowl the healer had requested. Holding it carefully in its dexterous claws as it did the healers bidding. Putting it in the healer's reach, and fetching a water skin. Very well then. He turned his attention back to Ignita, offering his forearm for her to clamp her teeth on. The bear looked to Marina, willing to act as the healer's apprentice.

God's she was stupid. What made her think she could do this? What made her believe life would find a way? Nothing in all her books had prepared Ignita for this.

She groaned through another contraction as Marina looked through the supplies. She couldn't do this, it was too much! She couldn't do this without crying or screaming. Before the next contraction, she breathed heavily as she listened to Marina's words, nodding as she spoke. She tried her best to chew the plants quickly coughing as a portion nearly went down her windpipe. Stupid, and naive, what made her believe she could be somebody? A consort, a fancy title, who was she to hold such a title?

With a shuddering breath, she realized she could finally start to feel the contractions coming before they hit her. The herbs would still take some time to have an effect but keeping Basilisk close was helping her stay calm and ride the waves of pain. Her hearing became sharper as her breathing steadied, and she heard Marina request Bas to fetch something.

"No! No. Here. Him... here." She cried, grasping and clawing his arm. She didn't want him to leave! She didn't need to be worried though. He didn't move a muscle and she saw through the haze her little adopted bear son grab the supplies for the healer.
"Such a good... boy..." She murmured.

She felt another contraction, finally feeling more prepared for it. She grunted into the pain and pushed, her face contorting as the pressure in her hip increased. She realized what was wrong!

"Hip! Left hip!" She called to Marina, The baby's massive head was stuck in her goddamn hip and not aligned properly. Didn't Bas say he had a twin? God's would they be having twins?

"Basilisk" || "Iggy"

The soft clatter of the water-filled bowl at her side caught her attention, and to no one's surprise it was the companion Ignita had adopted that had done her bidding and helped her out. She cast a disparaging leer up at Basilisk who had not moved from his whore's side, making sure to give the creature a pointed "Thank you," to make her point of how useless the Warlord had been. Even Ignita made herself a problem by shouting and refuting Marina's orders, impeding in her work with her theatrics. She rolled her eyes and bit her tongue to keep from growling. Maybe she deserved to die after all. Teach them both a lesson. May karma rain down on him, on her, his pack, and their wretched family... It was the least all of them deserved.

Marina stood by attentive and austere, giving the medicine the time it took to work. Gradually Ignita's labor pains seemed to soothe some, and she began to push. Then that ease turned into panicked pain as the little wolf howled out about her hip. Marina didn't hesitate to move into action, catching Ignita's hind leg with her paw around the thigh and lifting it up to spread her legs and hips as wide as she could. She was going to need as much space as possible to birth these monsters. Peering down at her swollen belly, Marina could just about see where the pup's head was in her hip. Keeping her leg elevated, Marina reached over and applied a gentle pressure to help coax the child back towards the birth canal, but there wasn't much room to move in the diminutive fae's womb. It was like overstuffing a pillow and she was fit to burst.

Rina's brows furrowed as she worked, focused in silent severity. The pup wasn't moving as much as it needed to in order to right itself. Dammit... if it didn't right itself soon, then Basilisk may need to make a choice to save the child or his whore. "The pup is stuck and it doesn't have room to move," Marina explained to Ignita, looking up at her with a steely seriousness in her tone. Another consequence of their reckless size difference breeding. Her bedside manner left something to be desired, but Marina was not here to be nice—she was here to save lives. "You need to push one of them out, Ignita. Grit your teeth, bite the Warlord, whatever gets you through it, but you need one of them out now." The alternative would be for Marina to cut them out of Ignita's belly—and doing so would cost the little golden wolf her life in the process.

"Marina"

There was a very real possibility that Basilisk might murder Marina by the time this birthing was done. He'd keep his promise, and bury her with her necklace. Healing was about more than brisk efficiency, it was about hope. Marina seemed determined to make them despair, but he wasn't about to give in to it. He supported Ignita with a paw around her shoulders. Even as his back legs dug into the stone beneath him. Leaving marks on the surface as they extended and dug in. Trying to relieve some of the emotions boiling through him.


“Push, my love. I'm here. You've got this.” He promised her, keeping his voice soothing, a contrast to the marks in the stone, and the force of his anger.

Mature - Birth, Trauma, Some gore

Stupid, reckless, useless! Ignita whimpered as her paws dug into the stone. She felt Marina feel along her swollen extended belly and maneuver her leg.
She bore down as another contraction came and Marina massaged the stubborn pup out of her hip. It didn't work. It didn't work!?

"I'm trying!" She snapped. Ignita clamped her teeth on Basilisk's arm to her right and screamed through his fur as she pushed. Tears streamed down as the pain rippled through her body, another contraction came much closer after the last one. She screamed through her clenched teeth as she pushed again. the contractions were coming too fast for her to keep up again. She was losing strength and her eyes began to glaze. She trembled.

Finally, as a contraction overlapped another, something gave within her and a large dark blue boy entered the world. She crumpled. Her dark skin ashen and her teeth slipped from her grasp as she became limp. Her sweat chilled under her thin white coat.

Delirious and pale she pulled the large babe toward her and weakly tried to clean him. She paused as the contractions began again and this time a slightly smaller boy came into the world much more easily but still with great effort. Her breathing was weak and her head was heavy.

"I'm sorry." She mumbled as she didn't have the strength to pull her secondborn close to her, to clean to encourage him to her belly to nurse. She just... she just wanted a rest. She wasn't done yet. She needed to survive, she needed to protect them and love them. She needed to stay alive and continue to fight for them. Thankfully both boys had broken the sac upon coming into the world.

There was an external tear, yes, but it wouldn't be fatal if the rest of the brood came quickly. Though breathing heavily she heaved again upon another contraction. She wasn't giving up. Her sorry was more that she couldn't clean the baby yet.

"Basilisk" | "Ignita"