“One day, your child gets married. A few years later, you have a gaggle of grandchildren to spoil.” - Old folk saying.
“So Mimia and Èirynn decided they wanted children, huh?” said Aideen as she pondered on the news Calais had related to her. The two of them were outside while the family kept Celia entertained inside, all of them too polite to bother Aideen and Calais in what was obviously a private family matter. “I guess it’s about time, if they leaned that way. They’re not staying young for too much longer…”
“Yeah… It was eight years ago when they decided that and found a willing donor shortly after,” replied Calais as he told Aideen of the situation. The news that her niece decided to have children was not an unexpected one – both Mimia and Èirynn were approaching their third centuries, after all, and most half-elves stopped being fertile at around three and a half – but remained a surprising one. “I know the donor too. Hilsana’iruel was one of my tutors in the usage of life magic when I was younger.”
“Huh… To think I missed that…” muttered Aideen thoughtfully. While she had seen them grow up over two centuries, Aideen still sometimes thought of Mimia as that cute little sister-like figure she saw from time to time when she was young, while Èirynn was her own niece, a child she had seen grow up from infancy. Sometimes her mind had difficulties separating the image of them being cute young children from the adults they had become. “I really should have visited back home sooner.”
“They originally wanted to wait until you returned, but since there was no news and they weren’t exactly getting younger… you get the idea, no Aunt?” said Calais in a way that made it clear to Aideen that the boy was afraid that she’d be offended and was trying to pacify her as best he could. The thought made her want to chuckle at the absurdity of it. “For what it’s worth, the kids are nice and well-behaved ones.”
“Really? That’s one I wouldn’t buy that easily,” said Aideen with a chuckle. While Èirynn was a good child overall, she was also quite a naughty one, especially in her first decade or so. “No way Èirynn that little hellion would be having quiet, demure little kids unless they got everything from their dad.”
“Well… okay, little Eilonwy might be a bit of a hellion, but her brother Rhys is a nice and quiet lad,” admitted Calais with a shrug of his shoulders.
Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.
“Èirynn had two children?” asked Aideen once more.
“They were twins. Eilonwy is the older one,” explained Calais. “My sister Mimia also had a daughter. Áine is pretty much an angel compared to Eilonwy, though.”
“Good to hear that they were healthy, and happy, at least,” replied Aideen with a sigh, somewhat regretful that she stayed a bit too long in Alcidea. Still, what already happened could not be changed, and at least now she was around to see her young grand-nieces and nephew. “Right, from the name, I assume that Hilsana’iruel is a full-blooded elf?”
“That is so, Aunt Aideen,” replied “The children are three-quarters elves, by blood.”
For couples of the same sex like Mimia and Èirynn to desire and have children was not an unusual thing. Couples like them were by no means rare, but given the value most societies placed on having children, it was rare for such couples to remain childless either. They typically had children either by adoption, or as Mimia and Èirynn did, with the help of a surrogate.
It was common practice for surrogates – either donors who provided the seed or mothers who carried the child to term in their wombs – to be either hired through a monetary transaction or other means to allow such couples to have children that would be their own flesh and blood. The practice was so common that in many lands the legalities had long been part of their code of law.
Typically, in such cases, the surrogate donor or mother would have no right to the children born from the union, though most of the time the couple would have allowed them to frequently meet the children anyway, especially if they were close or were friends prior to the children being born. In many ways, it was like such children were raised by three parents at once.
Aideen thought that Mimia and Èirynn likely made the call because they were approaching the last decades in which they could still have children. While they were younger, they had probably not felt the same way, and preferred to enjoy their life together as a couple. As they grew older though, some maternal instincts likely grew stronger.
As for why they opted to find a donor rather than to adopt, Aideen also understood the reasoning. While Mimia had a little half-brother in Calais, Èirynn was the last of her father’s line, a situation that technically also applied to Mimia, as she was the only offspring her late father had. As such, both of them probably thought that it was more appropriate for them to continue the bloodline rather than have it end with them.
“I do kind of wish you had mentioned this a bit earlier,” lamented Aideen to Calais as she shook her head. “Now I have to hope that we find some place that sells suitable souvenirs along the way back to the Lichdom. I had not prepared souvenirs for young children from my trip,” she added. “Oh well, we still got a few weeks left on the road left, I don’t think I’d be that unlucky.”
“Anything the kids like in particular, by the way?” she asked to him after she cleared her thoughts.
“Sweets and nuts, I guess? They’re still young, so for the most part, good food will likely win them over right away,” replied Calais immediately. “Mind you, that was when I last saw them three years ago. For all I know they might have changed their tastes in the time since.”
“All good. That’s a pretty safe bet anyway,” replied Aideen with a nod of her head. “Can’t hurt to try out the classics.”