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Parsley, Sage, Rosemary, Thyme
Springtime on the islands was something else. What had, in winter, been eternal shades of white and the palest hint of blue were transformed. Blankets of flowers spewed up everywhere. The practically flourescent greens of new leaves popped out of trees. Sharona was perfectly enamored by it.
She wandered days at a time, telling herself stories about various things. Grandmother Clarinet argued that it was against her nature to be so subdued, that as a red, she should be more violent and the like. Sharona disagreed. She argued that the reds were passionate, and her passion was in the tales of the ages.
And if the tales of the ages were made up on the spot, well... so be it.
*Her name,* Sharona was telling herself as she squirmed about, making a crown of flowers for herself, *was Col d'tirra. She was the sister of the mighty Gratira, and a daughter of the earth. The earth had been born of order, born of chaos. But its parents had left it, so it had made Col d'tirra and Gratira. While Gratira was born of the deepest fires within the core of the planet, Col d'tirra was born of a large, vine-like plant which bore beautiful flowers, one of which opened to reveal Col d'tirra, whose name means 'Child of Earth.'
*Gratira was born of the fires, and so, her soul was forged with passion and honor and justice. Col d'tirra was born of beauty and so, her soul was ripe with joy and innocence, because in the olden days, those things were all linked together.*
She paused to hum a few bars of a song that Tor had been singing earlier. It was a pair of melodies done as one, and she wasn't too certain of the words, since he seemed to jump between the melodies' words whenever he bloody felt like it. So, she just hummed it.
She split one of the flowers' stalks with a spine on her tail and threaded another through it patiently. Then, she resumed talking to herself.
*After the ages of creation, and the ages of warning, before the age of war, Col d'tirra grew lonely. Her heart was forever tied to the earth, and that inkling has always led to strong child-rearing instincts. Such is life. She began to wander the world in the guise of a green terran bishen, seeking out the male who would give her the children she longed to have.
*But no male would have her without protecting her. She tried to make it a point that she didn't need protection, but they never considered it an option. In time, she gave up, and she slept.
*Her birthgiver, the earth, was not happy to see her unhappy. It spread a cloud of sleep upon her and Col d'tirra, who was not ineffable by any means, fell asleep. In that time, the earth caused a weeping willow to grow above her, around her, through her. This tree grew in the blink of an eye and the passing of three hundred years. The local clans of dragons had thought it had always been there, but the earth knew it hadn't been yesterday.
*In time, not too much time, but at least a generation, the tree received an almost hallowed appeal to the local tribes. Unhappy females would go there with their grievances, twine the leaves of the tree around their horns and bodies, and fast for three days. Then, local legend gave the idea that their ails would be cured.
*On the contrary, the leaves of the tree had an almost euphoric property to them, so that when they were applied to the scales of dragons, nothing seemed to bother them.*
She paused and chuckled, fitting the flower garland on her head. *Hehe. Old bishen crackwhores,* she giggled and continued.
*In one of these clans, there was a very unhappy female. She had just reached adulthood fifty years ago, so she was still young, and pretty and smart and all those things. But none would have her, because she would not have any male who tried to protect her. She went to the tree.
*She went to the tree and wrapped herself in its leaves, and in that moment, the tree, the dragon, and Col d'tirra all understood a universal truth. What that truth was was almost immediately forgotten in the bliss that followed.
*When the female returned to her clan, she was heavy with eggs. The males did not understand, but some of the females did. Her eggs were rather unlike any of the eggs seen before, for they all appeared as little seeds, and the dragons that hatched from them were all greens with symbiotic plants and great powers over the land.
*The tree was never seen again, and Col d'tirra awoke when the wyrms hatched and understood. These wyrms were her children, and they became one of her blessed lines.
*Gratira, having no need for children of her own, gave them and their decendants great gifts from time to time, and every time a green was born to the line, he was given great powers by both Gratira and Col d'tirra.*
She finished her story and hummed more of the song Tor had been singing. It was starting to get stuck in her head, which meant it was time to bother him about it.
She started on her way home, by this time covered in flowers. She'd made quite a few wreathes of flowers in the time since she'd started the story. GIggling, she started to slither home.
***
It was a nice day, and she was covered in flowers, so Sharona didn't really mind everyone ignoring her as they usually did. Instead, she giggled as a hummingbird started to try to pollinate her flower crown. Then, as she rounded the corner to the block that the Galdros lived on, she heard a cry that sounded as if Annabel was in a good deal of pain.
Curious and a bit worried for Daddy's bondmate's safety, she slithered down the street to find Annabel limping, her weight on Tren and Tor, who were both looking fairly concerned for her.
*Good Mistress Nabel!* Sharona called, slithering towards the trio. Daddy, however, snatched her up as the three humans entered the house Tren and Annabel shared. She looked up at him. *Daddy, what's wrong with Nabel?*
She felt him smirk around the back of her neck as he set her down again. *She's in labor,* he told her knowledgeably.
*You mean like she's been working too hard?* Sharona asked.
*No,* Daddy said, giving her a look. *She's having babies.*
*Human babies?*
Daddy nodded, and Löwenherzchen bounced off his back and scampered to the door as Tren threw it open.
"Kip. Get Xylon and Oberon!" he called.
Daddy blinked. *Why do we need mages?* he asked.
"Just do it for once!" Tren shouted in a tone Sharona had never heard him use before. It was harried and worrisome.
That done with, Daddy bolted, leaving Sharona and Löwen to their own devices. Tren held the door open for them. They came in, both looking worried.
Sharona felt Löwen exude bravery to Tren and the others. She even felt a little bit given to herself. She'd come to understand that that was what the sufan did. He encouraged his traits in others, and since his defining trait was fortitude, well... it just came out all over the place.
*Tor?* Sharona asked as Löwen capered into the adjacant room that served as Annabel's bedroom, since she hadn't been able to make the steps lately.
Sharona peeked in to see Annabel fighting to sit up and Tor simultaneously trying to help Tren keep her down and light some candles. "Little bit busy, kiddo," he said as he burnt himself with some hot wax. "Dammit!"
*Miss Annabel, are you really going to have babies?* she asked hopefully. No one had quite explained the birds and the bees to her yet. It was going to be a first-time experiance to educate her. She wasn't going to miss it. She wanted to know so much, like if humans hatched or were born with the knowledge of their incubation, just like she had. Or if they were delivered by a big white bird, like Tor joked they were.
Annabel didn't answer. She looked like she was in a lot of pain. Was that what laying eggs looked like? She stared, eyes as big as saucers, and wasn't quite sure if she wanted to know all that much. She looked to Tren, who was patting Annabel's hand as she dug her nails into his wrist. He was trying to hold her down and take her pain, neither of which was looking too effective.
Then, the door burst open and Xylon and Oberon were in the house. Xylon's enormous wings were folded up as small as they could be, but he still had to duck and siddle in sideways to get into the room. His eyes snapped wide, then, and he turned to Tren. "She'll need a midwife," he told the soon-to-be-father.
"Get us one," he said, "a good one, that's not busy at the moment."
Xylon looked to Oberon, who nodded as Virens the peacock came into the room, took one look around, and left in a disgusted huff.
Xylon and Oberon went into the other room, which was soon filled with feathers and birdsong, and a very confused midwife.
"I DON'T NEED A MIDWIFE, I NEED A DOCTOR!" Annabel was snarling.
Tor was helpfully rummaging in the kitchen by this time for a knife and a pot of water to boil. "Not in this day and age you don't, Nabel," he said fondly. "Doctors aren't known for their ability to wash their hands."
Annabel's eyes widened and she was about to shout something else when she let out a gut-wrenching scream. She grabbed Tren by the nearest thing she could reach, which was, unfortunately, his hair, as he was trying to explain to the midwife what was happening.
"If I ever have to do this again," she said through tightly-clenched teeth. "So help me, you may not be able to do this to me a third time!"
Sharona couldn't help but wonder why Miss Annabel had married Tren in the first place if he wasn't doing very nice things to her.
Suddenly, everyone was pushed aside as the midwife, bustling in and pushing her sleeves up, set to work. Sharona just boggled as the midwife continued to hand out babies. One bloody, screaming body. Two screaming, bloody bodies. Three bodies, all screaming and bloody. And then a fourth body, not screaming, but definitely bloody.
The entire process was fascinating, and Sharona mostly just ignored the screaming and cursing as Annabel was instructed to "push!" and "breathe!" and "stop trying to take off my arm!" and other things. The babies were pink things, screaming and toothless, tiny, too. Their hands were little balls of appendages, and there was hardly any hair on their heads. One of them had gills like Tren, and another had his purplish skin, and a third had strange birthmarks up and down her back. And the last one, the last one looked normal, mostly. Or at least, that was what Sharona assumed a normal baby looked like.
After Sharona thought it was all done, more bloody stuff came out, which the midwife called the "afterbirth". It was very gross and stained up the sheets something awful. Sharona disapproved very much of the smell and watched as Tren helped her change the sheets under Annabel, Tor and Xylon holding one baby each, Annabel holding the other two as much as she could.
Sharona stared at Löwen. *Four babies,* she whispered. *That's almost as many as we had in our clutch! Humans certainly do have an awful lot of children at once!*
Löwenherzchen nodded as the midwife left and Xylon and Oberon sent her home after Kip paid her handsomely.
Then, with the babies asleep, Sharona slithered from her perch and took a nose-up from Daddy to put her on Annabel's bed. *Miss Annabel?* she asked.
Annabel yawned. "Yes, Sharona?" she asked, holding the gilled baby and the purple one.
*Don't they need names now that they're hatched?*
*Born,* Daddy corrected. *Human babies are live-births, not like dragons.*
*Born,* Sharona ammended. *They still need names, don't they?*
Annabel nodded and looked at the two in her arms, the one in Tor's arms, and the one in Tren's arms. "Two boys, two girls. I am indeed a lucky mother."
"And they're lucky babies," Tor said. "It's amazing how healthy they are with this level of midwifry."
Xylon took one of the babies from Annabel and the three men sat down around the room as Kip hopped onto the bed with Sharona, careful not to tear the sheets with his great talons.
*Luck had nothing to do with it,* Oberon said matter-of-factly. *Annabel is an inanely strong woman, and Tren is a survivor also. And furthermore, that midwife was one of the very best available to us. It was good breeding and skill that made that possible.*
Kip rolled his eyes. *Right,* he said. Then, he looked to Annabel. *I think you should name one Kip, Nabel.*
Annabel laughed. "Why? So you can be confused when I start yelling at him?"
*Good point,* Kipfel ammended. *Scratch that.*
"There have to be good names that come in fours," Tren said, sitting down. "Like a set."
"Why would you want a set?" Annabel said with a laugh in her voice.
"I don't know. Why wouldn't you?"
She shrugged and stroked her little gilled baby.
Meanwhile, Sharona was thinking and trying to be helpful. *Tor?* she asked, remembering why she'd been coming to find him in the first place. *What's that song you were singing yesterday? The one that went da da da da da da da da da da, da da da, da da da da da...*
"Scarborough Fair," Tor replied with an expression that looked perplexed as ever.
*Aren't there four names in that?*
"What?"
*The second line? There's four names in it, isn't there?*
"What? Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme?"
Sharona nodded.
Tren patted her head and smiled. "Those aren't names," he said. "They're herbs."
"But they're good names, too," Annabel said with a smile. "Parsley, Sage, Rosemary, and Thyme," she said, pointing to the four children, one at a time. Parsley was the girl with the marks on her back, Sage was the little purple boy, Rosemary was the little girl with nothing exceptional about her, and Thyme was the eldest with the gills.
"They need second names, too," Tor said wisely. "Every good child has a second name."
Tren blinked at him.
"Well, I have one, and you have one, and Nabel has two... Why not?"
Annabel smiled. "The Earth poets," she said nostalgically. "Sage Emerson, Thyme Whitman, Rosemary Dickinson, and Parsley Tennyson."
*What, no Poe?* Kipfel teased, knowing that was where Annabel got half her names from.
"Maybe my next son will be Edgar," Annabel said with a sly look on her face.
Tren went positively ashen. "Next son?" he mimicked.
Kip smirked, and Sharona squeed. *Aww! BABIES!!!* she chirped. Löwen did a headstand and they all smiled and relaxed. Now that that was over with, Tren and Annabel were going to be out a good night's sleep for the next two years at least.
But no one seemed to mind, since everyone was healthy, safe, and sound. And right now, that was all that mattered.
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