Giants holstered me up, speaking to each other in a language foreign to me. My whole body ached from the horrifying ordeal I'd just been forced to go through, and honestly, my respect for both newborns and women had just gone up by about a thousand percent after this experience.
My eyesight was off, although it wasn't too unusual for me. After all, I'd had a pretty bad prescription for my glasses back before I died. Still, I suspected that now, it had more to do with the fact I'd just been reborn rather than any faulty eyeballs.
Nonetheless, this didn't stop me from observing the adults crowding around me, tending to both myself and the horribly pale woman I'm fairly sure I'd just been pushed out of... Although, judging from the fact that everyone around me had the same skin color as her, I'm confident it had more to do with her race rather than any real bodily stress or worry.
After a minute or two of catching her breath, my new mother looked over at me, softly saying something that I could not understand, but nonetheless caught the meaning of her words. Reaching out her hands, she stared at me with tired, yet eager eyes.
I was promptly handed over to her, my unresponsive body barely capable of moving on its own... Not that I wanted to, of course. I'd been wrapped up in a blanket immediately following my birth, but her body heat was still nice.
I didn't know if I was acting passably enough for a baby, but judging from the lack of pitchforks and screams calling me a demon, I felt confident enough, so I allowed myself to indulge in a tiny bit of sniffling and whimpering as I clutched my new mother. I needed to vent a bit after such a traumatic experience, after all.
"Hen est- will n- Asheria" Mother suddenly spoke as she reached down with her head and gently put her lips onto my forehead. I blinked a bit at the strange action, excitement welling up within me. So many new things to learn, so much knowledge so close to my grasp.
But, before I could access that knowledge, I was promptly forced to meet something I'd rather not. Face, meet breast.
Instincts took over, and before long, I was falling asleep with a full belly, my body hanging uselessly within my new mother's embrace as she spoke silently with the few other people still remaining in the room.
I wanted to try and decipher their language, but I understood that this wasn't the time for that. My thoughts felt dull, and my eyes struggled to stay open. Before I even knew it, I was asleep once more, my desires evidently not enough to overpower the babyish need for napping.
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Cute chubby baby reporting in. I will have to regretfully admit that, as of right now, my life is boring beyond belief, as it probably is for any humanoid creature that just left the womb. After all, there isn't very much one can do when you can't even stand up straight.
I currently reside within what I would like to call a baby crib, but honestly, I don't know if it can be called as such. It's essentially a bunch of tree roots tied together with a soft mattress at the bottom for me to waddle uselessly on.
Beyond that, my world revolves around sleeping, pooping and pissing myself, drinking milk, and occasionally being babbled at by the woman who had the gruesome task of birthing me.
It was a lonely existence. I had yet to see the man who should be my father, but then again, I doubt it had been more than a week since I was born. Maybe elves had a tradition akin to that of the people of old, where children and mothers were isolated from the rest of the world for a few months to avoid infections?
... I doubted it, but it was possible. Maybe I had an absentee father, who knows. I certainly didn't.
Anyways, since I had so few things to focus on, I adapted by focusing on said few things to an obscene level. For starters, my mother.
She looked exactly like the stereotypical elf I imagined. Pale skin, silvery hair, and ears much longer than any normal humans should have without medical surgery. Her features were sharp, and her breasts suprisingly small for a mother. Why did I care about her breasts? Because I was literally forced to suckle on them four times a day. It was annoying.
Beyond that, she conducted herself like an aristocrat. Her steps were light yet filled with purpose, and even when she babbled at me, there was always a dignified air behind her words. Also, she dressed funny.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
And by funny, I mean that, except for when she birthed me, she was always walking around in medieval-looking armor. I had no idea why she did so, but the sheer difference compared to my own ideas and prejudices of how one should dress excited my cultural thirst.
Other than that, our house was suprisingly small. Although I couldn't move beyond my crib, my mother made it a point of hers to always carry me around whenever she was in the house. It was horribly scary to be so reliant on another person to the point of being unable to clean your own poop, but I'll admit that I might have enjoyed it a bit whenever she swung me around a bit, as my excited screeches whenever mother did that might point out.
A-anyways, our house. It's small, it's homely, and I love it. Not much else to say on the interior of it, but the outside is a different story. We were surrounded on all sides by trees, and although I was only able to take a peek once, I saw houses holstered upon trees or houses made directly from trees.
The tree-hugger stereotype for the elves wasn't wrong, I suppose. Or maybe it wasn't, who knows. I only had very limited exposure to elven culture so far, after all.
However, this changed during the eight day of my new life. It started off as any other morning had so far, with me screaming my throat raw until mother dearest got her armored ass over to my crib and stopped the gnawing pain in my stomach.
The poor woman stumbled down the stairs from her bedroom on the floor above, her usually perfect hair now resembling more of a rat's nest than anything else. She blinked a bit before shaking her head, sighing loudly. With one hand, she pointed at her hair, and after a snap of her fingers, they uncurled and unbound themselves and automatically arranged themselves neatly.
I stopped screaming, my eyes going wide in wonder and curiosity. I stared at her now perfect hair once more, letting out an 'ooooh' sound. I would have clapped too, but I was too busy staring.
Mother smirked haughtily before giggling at the cute faces I was making. She picked me up and, after quickly unlatching the upper part of her armor, shoved my face into her breast. Ah, yes. Milk. My best friend and worst enemy, all wrapped up in a bundle of fat and tissues.
Still... This was my first time witnessing anything that could be called 'magic', and it was in the form of an automatic hair-fixer... Magic is awesome. I want it so I never have to worry about the state of toilets in this world, if for no other reason.
"Gaa! Gaaa!" I cried happily, waving my arms around after my meal had finished. I was excited, ok? Don't judge me. Mother shushed me gently, patting my head while she bounced me a bit. She walked around the house, doing small chores here and there
Then, her ears perked up. Literally, it was almost as though she was a dog. Her head swiveled to the side as a small smirk rose on her face. She didn't quite run, but she certainly walked faster as she headed over to the main door of the house.
She blabbered to me a bit, but it was clear to me she was talking to herself more than she was to me. Nonetheless, I listened and tried to learn as much as I could, as I always did.
When we reached the door, she yanked it open, jumping upon the very pretty man standing in front of it. The man barely had any time to react before he was violently pulled in for a kiss, one that he didn't take long to reciprocate with just as much eagerness as mother.
Well, I guess that buries the theory that my father was dead. No tragic back-story then, unfortunately.
It took a while for the two lovers to disentangle themselves from each other, and when they did, they only took a moment to breathe before going at it again. I was being held uncomfortably, being squished against mother's side, and thus, for as much as I wanted to leave them to it, I was kind of starting to hurt.
I squealed a bit, causing my two supposed parents to jump away from each other. The man's eyes immediately landed on me, a stunned look emerging on his masculine yet also somewhat feminine face.
Mother grinned widely, pushing me into the man's arms without warning. The poor man awkwardly grabbed me, eyeing me with wide eyes, as though I would eat him. Smart man, he should fear me. My toothless gums can bite harder than anyone would expect!
Jokes aside, mother reached forward and entered the man's embrace, effectively sandwiching me between them. They kissed once more, much more subduedly this time, before she reached down and kissed my head, mumbling something I couldn't understand against my skull.
"Hen est- na- Asheria. He's cín -iel, meld." Mother said. I couldn't understand what she said any more than I could previously, and yet, I'm fairly sure she just said my name.
I'm not sure how I know that, but I do. The man's eyes widened even more, and then, they relaxed. His lips curled up too, and he rested his lips on my head as well. Was that some sort of elven symbol for affection? Hell if I know, maybe they're just weirdos.
"Asheria..." He mumbled, a smile rising to his lips. Yup, that's my name, I'm pretty sure. It certainly doesn't sound English, but I suppose it could have been worse. Like Tiffany. Who the hell wants to be named Tiffany?
Before long, I was put back in my crib. Usually, mother would keep me around her for longer, but judging by how she was practically dragging the man upstairs, I'm fairly sure she had other ideas for how to spend the day.
I wanted to cry a bit and get their attention... But eventually decided against it. I could deal with some alone-time, after all, I'd spent the majority of my previous life alone, a day or so more wouldn't kill me. Besides, something told me mother had been extremely relieved at seeing the man I shall tentatively call father... Maybe he'd gone off to war or something equally dangerous?
Oh well. Hopefully, elves use protection, because I really don't want to deal with a bratty sibling.