Penumbra - Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Nineteen
The single light burning in the sitting room illuminated the pair on the divan. They were as still as sculptures on a tomb; Jaithlym was propped against the arm of the tall man, her fingers resting lightly on the black-gloved hand which lay relaxed on his thigh. She was profoundly content this night; Anjh had cried out her name that morning at the height of his passion, a thing he had never done before. Warmth suffused her at the memory, casting a pinkish glow on her white skin, turning her from snow to coral. Perhaps he was beginning to love her; she hoped so for she had reached a decision which had the potential to profoundly affect their relationship - at least, it would change much between them. Tingling with a combination of eagerness and trepidation, she found herself almost breathless merely imagining how he would react. Now was the right time for the conversation she planned; it only remained to find the exact moment. She rose up on her knees and lightly kissed the center of his forehead then began to unbraid his long dark hair, using her fingers as combs to spread the coarse strands over his shoulders where they bristled like a mane.
His thoughts were focused inward, looking back at the troubled visit with Rispa that afternoon. He was worried by the argument and the unbecoming disrespect he had shown his Elder but he was also still enraged by the presumption that he should obey without question as though he were still a boy. Any decision about this restored, unwanted life foisted upon him was his and he would make it himself on his own terms in his own time. He was beginning to seethe again when Jaithlym interrupted his brooding absorption.
“Anjh, I’ve decided.”
At once his attention shifted; he had been waiting nearly a week for her answer. Resolved not to rush her, he had refrained from mentioning his request, putting it aside until the meeting with Rispa had returned the matter to the front of his mind.
“And?” He caught her hand, his eyes searching hers.
“Yes,” she looked directly at him and said. “Yes. I wish to bear your son. It will be my greatest happiness to carry the child of so great a man. I willingly accept the conditions you so honorably defined and will abide by the customs of your race in all matters - even surrendering the child at its birth.” She finished with a little choking gasp.
“Is this too hard for you, Jaithlym? Are you harboring a private reservation? If so,I won’t accept your offer. I’ve told you before I’m no rapist.” He was unaccustomedly tender, understanding.
She nodded, “It’s more difficult than I imagined it would be but I’ve thought long and carefully since you asked me and I can do this without holding anything back because I knew from the beginning that I would want to bear your child and, whether you realized it or not, I never tried to avoid it. When you made your request, even when I understood the Prydain restrictions, it was as though everything was coming into focus and we would be bonded as I had always hoped we would be. Tell me, my love, what woman would turn down the chance to be the mother of a legend’s son?”
“Be absolutely certain and don’t begrudge me this. You don’t need to offer proof of love to me; I don’t doubt your devotion. But be totally sure before you agree for there’ll be no going back.”
“No abortions available, eh? Well, that part’s all right; I shan't want one anyway. I just wish I didn’t feel so much like I’ll be an incubator and not a mother.”
He looked at her seriously, his voice warm with concern, “Never think that, Jaithlym. You’ll be so much more. It’s your body that will nourish and protect my son for almost a year. It’s your genetic material that will make him more than a simple clone of me. You can’t know what talents and traits you’ll pass on to him and neither can I. You’ll be half of making a unique human.”
“But your son?”
He nodded ruefully, “That’s the way it must be among those of my race.”
She leaned over him and, opening his robe, whispered, “Then shall we begin? It’s my fertile time.”
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The foreplay had been long and inventive. They had explored one another with increasing excitement, finding new places to caress, new sensations to experience, when Anjh murmured, “Now - we begin.”
He spread her legs and gently entered her. She responded with an immediate burst of passion that pushed her close to climax. He calmed her with a firm touch and warned, “Not yet.”
Again and again he slowly, deliberately brought her to the base of that peak and paused, waiting for something she could not know.
“Please, let me...”
“Not yet.”
She ached for him, for the climax, for an end to this exquisite torture but he continued, again and again. Finally, she was like a crossbow, wound to its furthermost notch - the need for release had become pain...
“Now!” he cried, driving violently into her, impaling her. “Now!” His hands cupped her buttocks pulling her toward him as he surged.
As his body arched, Anjh flung his consciousness in pursuit of his seed on their frantic journey toward their destiny. Time seemed to slow as he adjusted his mental vision to the microcosm he now inhabited. He saw the sperm desperately swimming, swirling in the narrow tube about him. Then at the corner of his virtual eye there was a round shape, floating serenely in the crimson world. He watched as clouds of sperm attacked the globe, struggling until one penetrated its protective shell and sealed the barrier against all others. There was a flurry of activity in the egg as division started and it was swept toward the uterus. He paused, curious to watch the implantation when suddenly another globe floated into sight.
He was not surprised, more than one egg was not rare but more than one was always wasted because his sperm could not enter another after the first - or so he had been taught. Thus it was with a sense of awed incredulity that he saw another of his seed slip into the second egg to begin the process of fertilization anew. The two eggs moved together in stately procession toward their destination and into the sanctuary itself where they sank into their appointed places. To Anjh, they seemed to glow with an uncanny light, two jewels on a velvet bed, a promise of vindication, of true immortality.
He fell away from her, breaking the connection but behind his closed eyelids he could still see those two shining points of life. Silently, he laughed in amazement; he must have been imagining that second event. No Prydain had ever fathered twins on any partner of any race. But he had seen with his own consciousness, a second egg, a second impregnation. He had seen it.
Jaithlym lay against him, her skin slick and gleaming with sweat, her breath gradually slowing. Her body still throbbed from the aftershocks of her massive orgasm as she squirmed into the sheets and whimpered his name softly. She wanted it never to stop, this moment. This sense of absolute oneness, this belonging.
He reached for her hand, gently kissing the palm. “Are you all right?” he inquired tenderly.
“Yes, exhausted but all right. That was the ride of rides, love; am I pregnant?” she was determined not to let him know how affected she had been by his passion.
He laughed exultantly, the first genuine laugh she had ever heard him give. “You are twice pregnant. You carry two boys; they are lying side by side in the warm splendor of your womb.” With that he drew her close in a triumphant embrace.