Orcs were different.
Everything was a celebration. From the point she’d peed all over her hand, getting just enough on the stick to cause a reaction, reminding Khash that the test was designed for humans and that she wouldn’t know anything concrete until she’d visited her doctor, his family had been ready with balloons, threatening to fly up at a moment’s notice.
“We have big families, darlin’,” he’d reminded her unnecessarily. “Of course, we celebrate when someone gets a boy after a clutch of girls. Or a girl after nothin’ but troublemakin’ boys. You know we don't need some big excuse to bake a cake.”
“Well, what if that little orc girl changes her mind?" she had challenged. “What if she decides she doesn’t want to be called a girl anymore? What then? After you all made such a big to-do?”
Khash had only rolled his eyes, clucking his tongue. “Bluebell, do you think that would make a lick a’ difference? All I'm hearing is another excuse to throw a party, celebrate their new name with the whole clan. Be serious.”
She had laughed, knowing she was beat. Lurielle already knew the weekly video call with his family would be one of celebration at the end of this week, once they had these results. Whether it was a party she wanted or not, it was a party they would throw.
“Well, I can tell. Southern intuition. We all got it. I already know this is gonna be a little princess, and she's gonna come out finer than frog hair split four ways. Mark my words, Bluebell!”
“Princess intuition,” she echoed, another weak laugh.Princess. He made it sound so soft, so easy. He had been using it for months now, half joking, half dreaming, she was sure. His princess. Their little girl, a perfect Elvish/Orcish specimen.Princess. The word landed like a stone for her, making her guts twist. Lurielle glanced around, ensuring she had a restroom in sight, just in case.
She had tried to envision it. She’d stood in front of the mirror in that third bedroom, imagining herself holding her little girl. Asleep, a little button nose, tiny tusks. Fair green skin like a new leaf, with light colored hair curling around her miniature face. A mix of them both. Her tears would rise, fast and hot. More love than she'd ever thought possible, filling her up in a gush, protective and unconditional . . . floating on a sea of terror. Mothers and daughters, fraught relationships with too much potential for damage and hurt. She felt paralyzed by the fear that she would fail without ever meaning to, repeating generational harm simply by existing.
No. That’s not going to happen. You won’t let it.
“Lurielle.”
The nurse who called her name was familiar, the troll grinning when she spotted her.
“Here we go, darlin'. Moment of truth.”
She let him help her to her feet, a hand on her belly, resting there automatically these days. As soon as they were through the doorway, the smell hit her. Sterile and antiseptic. Crinkling paper and tongue depressors, bandages and hand sanitizer. Lurielle sucked in a deep breath, wondering how long she could hold it this time.
The technician who met them in the room was also a familiar face. The amphibious woman grinned as she entered, chattering amiably with Khash, spreading the cold gel on Lurielle's stomach, making a sympathetic noise when she flinched, as she always did.
“It doesn't make a difference whether you're expecting it or not, does it? It's always too cold.”
The screen flickered to life, the grainy gray landscape of her innards, her breath catching as always did when the technician moved the wand. In the beginning, she hadn't been able to see anything. She had cried, her face splotched with red, embarrassed tears that she wasthatmother, unable to pick out the blob of static that was meant to be her baby without help from the tech. Now, though, no such help was required. There was the curve of the skull, the little spine like a string of pearls.
"Heartbeat looks great," the tech confirmed, the confirmation she waited for every single appointment, her tears forcing their way to the surface. "Nice and strong. I think we have a pretty clear view. We want to know today, right?"
"Yes," she and Khash answered in unison, his hand tightening around hers.All that matters is that they're healthy. All that matters is that you can carry long enough for them to be okay. You'll get through whatever's next when it happens.
“Okay, just wanted to check. Well, say hello to your little boy!”
For a moment, they said nothing. The only sound in the room was the whirring of the sonography machine.
“A boy.” Lurielle tasted the word seemingly for the first time.A boy.
“A boy,” Khash echoed, his hand around hers tightening in a death grip.
“From what I can see, it’s definitely a boy,” the tech laughed.
The sob that broke from her throat might have embarrassed her if she hadn’t felt sofuckingrelieved. “Oh, thank gods!” She choked on her laughter, tears blurring the room. She was going to resemble a snotty, drooling woods witch again by the time she left, but Lurielle didn't care.A boy!She didn't know anything about boys, and that made her statistically less likely to screw one up. No mirrors, no grapefruit diets, no inherited trauma. The long shadow of the mother she didn't want to emulate vanished, and she laughed again. “A boy!”
She remembered, a beat too late, that she wasn't alone. Twisting back, her eyes widened, finding Khash's. Chocolate brown pits, brimming with tears. “Are you upset?”
The noise he made sounded like a sputtering donkey, and then the techniciandidlaugh. “Bluebell, what do I have to be upset over? I told you I was gonna pump a strong son into you.” His mouth met hers, hot and familiar. “That's our little boy.” His voice was a breath against her temple; all she needed to start crying again.
The guilt didn't find her until they were back in the car. She shouldn't have beenthathappy. She shouldn't have felt so elated not to be having a girl.I'm sorry, little one, she thought, sending the sentiment to the unrealized notion of the daughter her body hadn't created.
Khash blew out a hard breath, shaking his head as she buckled her seatbelt. “I can't believe it's a boy.”
There was something in his voice, and Lurielle's eyes snapped up. There was love in his eyes, without question, but a flicker there of something else, she thought. A tiny bit of mourning for that unrealized reality he'd had inhishead.
