“Kreet,” said a voice beside her quietly as she held Grace to her. She looked away to find Eilistraee kneeling beside her.

“Kreet, we’ll leave you now. But I want you to know, we will see you again. No matter what happens, remember that. We will meet again. You have my word.”

Kreet looked at the goddess. Was she crying? Well, she was going to be a mother. Her own eyes were probably pools of tears right now. Would it be so unusual for another mother to get emotional at a time like this?

But the goddess' expression didn’t look like tears of joy. She kissed Kreet’s forehead and whispered, “There is hope, Kreet. There is always hope!”

Kreet was puzzled, but the goddess was already walking back to Sigmundurr. She took the big man’s hands, and they began walking towards the moon as if it was the most natural thing in the world. And then they were gone.

Kallid sat at Kreet’s feet, and she handed Grace to him. The little one struggled a little, trying to get back to her mother, but she calmed down when she saw Kallid’s face.

“Well, now that it’s just you two…” Kreet began, and pulled her robe off her shoulders. “It’s high time we find out just what these things are for!”

Kallid handed Grace back and the little lizard found its place in an instant.

“Well,” Miss Tribi remarked while picking up Night’s egg. “I guess that’s just disproven a lot of theories about breasts and kobolds! Look at her go!”

“Oh! Slow down girl!” Kreet laughed. “Wow this feels weird! But good too. What do you mean Miss Tribi?”

“Well, there’s a lot of conjecture in some books. Some say we shouldn’t even have breasts. And nearly none of the kobolds living underground have them at all. They say that since we give birth with eggs, nursing shouldn’t even be something we do. And they say our mouths can’t suckle too.”

“Written by humans, I bet.”

Miss Tribi laughed at that. “Probably! I’d say Grace is doing pretty good considering she’s not supposed to be able to do that!”

Kreet ran her hand over Grace’s head. Though her horns were little more than stubs, it appeared they would be curved like Kallid’s. But true to form, her scales matched Kreet’s greenish-tinted tones. The baby’s eyes were closed as it suckled, but when they occasionally opened they glowed with the same blue glow she’d come to know.

“Um, Kreet?” Kallid asked, and she thought sure he was going to make some crack about being jealous of his daughter, but instead she saw he was holding another baby kobold.

“Kalindra!!!” Kreet exclaimed, and released Grace, who nevertheless held on for dear life.

“In all the excitement, I guess she hatched while we weren’t looking!” Kallid said, handing her other daughter to Kreet. Her second breast was soon being massaged by another set of tiny, stubby scaled hands.

“Oh Kallid. I’m… I can’t tell you…” Kreet cried. “Thank you for this!”

Miss Tribi saw it might be time for the two parents to be alone for a while with their children and rose quietly. “Kallid, just come and get me if you need me. I’ll be in my room.”

Kreet looked up at her and nodded.

Kallid stroked Kalindra.

“She has your colors,” Kreet said, stating the obvious.

“She does! They’re the two cutest things I’ve ever seen.”

“And your daughters are pretty cute too!” Kreet laughed.

“Kreet! Did you just make a dirty joke?!”

“Well, I didn’t get these children by devout prayer.”

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

The two spent most of the night admiring their two newborn children, and wondering when Night might hatch, but he didn’t seem ready to make his appearance yet. Eventually they returned to their room.

Later, Kallid was sleeping on the bed while Kreet was nursing Kalindra again. Grace was sleeping in her lap while she kept Night’s egg beside her.

The feel of Kalindra’s instinctive kneading of her breasts was soothing and she looked up where she could just see Kallid’s tail flopped over the edge of the bed.

There had been times when she’d envied males when she was growing up. As a youth with Karl and Brand, when they were out in the woods exploring she’d seen them stop, urinate, and be back to exploring in seconds while she had to make a whole production out of finding a private place.

And of course, as she’d grown into puberty and adulthood, it irked her that a male could just sow his seed in a female and then abandon her. It was probably what had caused her to jump on Kallid that first time when she’d been drunk. She’d wanted to feel that freedom of irresponsibility and hedonistic pleasure for its own sake. Too bad she’d had to be so drunk to do it that she couldn’t remember it.

But now, in this moment with one of her children suckling at her breast, she knew she would never be envious of them again. They could never feel this. This was an intimacy they managed to approach only for a few seconds while in the fever of mating. No wonder they were so obsessed with it. To be this close - this connected with someone else. They could never experience it like this.

She looked at Kalindra, and stroked her back. The eyes opened and looked up at her, releasing her momentarily before re-engaging again.

This was another person, but a person she had created. A person, at least at this point, that was wholly and completely dependent on her. Sure, Kallid could raise her. Miss Tribi could watch over her. But only Kreet could be her mother.

She looked at Grace, the breath coming and going in short bursts from the tiny lungs. These were hers. And she realized she loved all three with a feeling that overwhelmed her. It seemed totally wrong that the same word could be used to describe the emotion she felt towards them.

She loved Kallid. She loved Sigmundurr for that matter. Differently of course, but quite completely. And yet, the bond she felt for these three children was of a different order. It was visceral and deep. She was their mother, and to say she loved her children didn’t begin to express what she really felt.

She knew now why the mother bear was so dangerous. It must feel like she did towards her children. They depended on her, and she would willingly die for them without question.

Which made her think back to her own mother. She could barely remember her now. She hadn’t had the advantage of breastfeeding to bring these feelings out, and yet she’d had many children - Kreet had only been her last. And Kreet knew instinctively that her mother had felt the same about her and her other siblings. Ultimately she had failed to protect her children, except for Kreet. But she had protected Kreet. A kobold’s life in the wild was hard and short. But her mother had not failed. And these three children were proof of that.

Kreet had lived, and she had borne three children. And there would probably be more. Given Kallid’s amorous nature, it was nearly a certainty in fact. Her mother had certainly not failed. Even if only one child survived, that was enough.

“Thank you, Mother,” Kreet whispered to the darkness. “Thank you for having me. For caring for me. For having the foresight to put me up in that hidden niche before you were killed. For all my life, I’ve felt like a failure. Mother, I’m not a failure anymore. If I never do anything more, I’m not a failure. Look at what I’ve created! I’ve got three children, Mother. Three! And they’re all great! Okay, so Night’s a little lazy, but he’ll come along soon enough. Hope these two leave him some milk! But I’m not a failure, Mother. And that means you weren’t a failure either.”

Then she closed her eyes and prayed to Pelor. She felt Grace stir and moved her back to her breast without losing concentration. Pelor wasn’t the god of creation or fertility, but he was her chosen god, and she thanked him for allowing her to come this far. She’d done it. She had built a life, a nest, a home - here in this human city. She’d brought Kallid along with her and she’d proven a kobold’s worth even here in the middle of a poor human slum.

She was not treated as an equal here, deep in this city of flat-faces and tailless butts. To some she knew she was still seen as an animal or a monster. But with those whom she’d gotten to know, and those who’d gotten to know her, she at least wasn’t that. They respected her and Kallid - even more, they liked them. She could never be treated wholly as an equal here. Not in her lifetime anyway. She was just too different from them, and too new, to expect that. But they had made a place for her in their society. They’d accepted her, and for now that was more than enough.

She looked at Kallid’s tail, poking out from the blanket overhead. In many ways he’d gone through more hell than she had. He’d taken the brunt of the grossness of the sewers. He still didn’t talk about what had happened when he was with the Band. She had a pretty good idea though. And he daily took a beating from her training. Yet he’d stayed by her side through it all. He’d overcome not with magic, or with a Cleric’s faith. He’d overcome with nothing but his love for her and pure doggedness. He’d borne what he had to bear for her.

She set her daughters down, building a little blanket-wall to keep them pinned in, and climbed up onto the bed and under the covers. She woke her husband and tried her very best to show him how much she appreciated him in the ways nature had given her. Maternal love might be a lot deeper than romantic love, she thought later that night, but there was still a lot to be said for the good old romantic kind too. She didn’t think she could get pregnant again so soon, but she no longer cared either. She’d be happy to bear more of his children. Besides, they would really be hers.