She stares into his eyes for a moment before nodding. “That pretty much sums it up.”
He looks relieved. At least now he knows she wants to tell him.
“Is this about the joining? Or water closets?” he asks, and she frowns.
“Water closets?”
Why would Tharios be talking to her about water closets?
“Your mother told me humans don’t discuss them.”
“Oh.” She cocks her head to the side. “It’s not so much the water closets themselves as everything that happens in water closets. It’s not considered a polite conversation topic.”
“You’re not unwell, are you? If Tharios was talking to you about water closets—”
Stars above. This conversation is going off the rails.
“The joining,” she blurts out before he can say anything else. “It was about the joining. I’m not sick. And we definitely didn’t talk about water closets.”
“But you shouldn’t have been able to talk about the joining. Not with him. It happened in the heartlanding. Did I...hurt you?”
“Stars above, no, Cerian. You were beyond gentle.”
Once again, relief fills his eyes, and he nods.
This is ridiculous. She’s being ridiculous.
They were just talking about the joining earlier. For goodness’ sake, they did it last night. And he was running his hands all over her minutes ago.
If she can’t talk to Cerian about this...
Taking one more deep breath, she dives in before she can go around in any more circles in her head. “Tharios gave me something to prevent...to prevent...pregnancy.”
There. She said it. Why was that so hard?
Tentatively, she lifts her eyes to Cerian’s. Is he laughing?
She groans, running her hands down her face. “Yes, I am ridiculous. I should have said that five minutes ago.”
He draws her into his arms, his shoulders shaking. “Yes, you should have.”
“In my defense, I’m really tired,” she says as her own laughter gets the better of her. “Human, remember?”
“My human.”
“So, I have a little bottle of some Lothlesi medicinal that I’m supposed to take every night.”
“This is why you keep panicking about forgetting it,” he says, his laughter fading as he holds her close.
Now that they’re talking, it’s easier to keep going.
“You don’t want elflings yet, do you?” she asks. “That’s what I should have asked you hours ago. Tharios saidhumans are more fertile than elves. And I have a lot of years ahead of me. And...and I’m not sure we’re ready...”
Cerian takes a moment to answer. “I want you to be happy. But...whistling wind, even Tharios is young to be a father, despite Father’s Council of Elders pestering him. And my own parents are young. We have years, Arisanna. Decades. Centuries, if you want.”
Images of Father grimacing while climbing the stairs to the astronomy tower fill her.
“My parents don’t have centuries.” The thought squeezes something in her chest, and Cerian tightens his arms around her.
