The den was empty for once. Mittere had insisted on shooing the kids (and grandkids) out for the day, sending them anywhere else but here. As another wave of pain passed through her body, Tarafa truly couldn't find it within herself to argue with the pink lioness. She hadn't remembered childbirth being so truly painful last time. Then again, it looked like there were more than three cubs on the way this time.
The entire pregnancy had been harder this time, and the blue lioness had suffered from numerous aches and pains in addition to the increasingly unwieldly proportions of her body. Still, she was glad to have her mate by her side, and pushed against her exhaustion to nuzzle Mittere.
The pink lioness returned the caress. Her expression was as closed as it usually was, but her blue eyes were anxious as she watched how much even that small effort had cost Tarafa. She could tell that the blue lioness had been having more trouble with this second litter, but what could a Warrior due to help? She'd already done all she could in getting the den empty so that the kids and grandkids wouldn't hover over their matriarch.
It was just as well that Mittere didn't hover over anyone, as she didn't want to clue Tarafa into just how worried she was. The blue lioness had lost weight in the rest of her body throughout the pregnancy, and didn't seem to have much of an appetite - particularly worrisome in a mother-to-be. Not to mention that she'd just seemed more...fragile. Mittere knew her mate was no cub, and to have a second litter so late in life seemed like pushing her luck. Hopefully it wouldn't run out. The Master Warrior didn't want to admit such a possibility, but her duty to the pride was about recognizing the realities of the current situation, and the pink lioness applied the same perspective to all aspects of her life.
The blue lioness groaned as another shock of pain ripped through her and she was finally able to give birth. Throughout the entire process she kept her eyes on Mittere's. They were the same blue as her own, her mate's were, and someone had once joked that it was a sign from the Goddess. Mittere refused to comment on that speculation and Tarafa had simply told the observer in question that surely the Goddess had better things to do than dictate eye colors.
There was an ocean of love in those blue depths and Tarafa reached for it with her claws, hanging on to the calmness and serenity she saw there as her body was wracked with pain. This was, in so many ways, much worse than the first litter. Not only was it more than twice as big, but each birth was more than twice as painful. Every effort left her dripping and exhausted, and still more was left to do.
Finally it was all over. Seven wet balls of fur mewled at her feet, blindly seeking a place to nurse. Tarafa smiled up at her mate.
"All safe and sound."
Sitting, watching, and doing nothing was the hardest thing Mittere had ever done. It hurt her inside, rather viscerally, to watch Tarafa struggling with each and every birth. One son and six daughters, split fairly equally in dominant coloration between the blue lioness and the black lion she'd said was the father. Why her mate had insisted on bearing another litter and by Moto'nafsi....well, Mittere would likely never understand it. But it was a fact.
The pink lioness helped as best she could, moving the pitiful balls of fluff out of the way of their next siblings, cleaning the fluids off of them and out of their fur, whatever she could do to help. Mittere was not accustomed to being helpless, but she refused to allow a lack of knowledge keep her away. It wasn't as if she hadn't done this before, with Jani, Amani and Nyesha (and oh didn't that still twist in her heart), so she did have experience.
Still, she didn't want to allow her concern for Tarafa change her behavior. Her mate was relying on the pink lioness to be a rock, a constant source of strength and support.
"So it seems," she answered coolly.
That was Mittere. Never allowing whatever emotions dwelled in her heart to show upon her face or in her voice. Nevertheless, Tarafa imagined she could sense relief. Well, the theory did have some proof to back it up. The pink lioness hadn't changed anything overtly, but the past moon or so she'd definitely maneuvered events and chores to make life easier for the blue lioness. The Bard had tactfully forbore to mention any of this or, gods forbid!, thank Mittere for it, but she'd noticed it and the warm glow it made in her heart.
"My children," she murmured, looking down at them. Blue and black...actually, everything looked somewhat dark right now. Confused, Tarafa turned her gaze back up to her mate - and oh, how heavy her head felt! - and saw the blackness creeping in towards that pink coat. Frowning, the blue lioness reached an obscenely heavy paw outwards.
Mittere's mouth twitched in what could almost be called a smile. Tarafa was truly a wonderful mother, and these cubs were damned lucky to have her for theirs. The pink lioness knew she could never be half the parent her mate was, but that didn't lessen for a moment the pride she felt in her love.
But...what was this? Blue eyes narrowed as Tarafa looked at her in confusion and reached out. The pink lioness wasn't certain what was going on, but she was sure she didn't like it. Still, she reached back, touching Tarafa's paw with her own.
It was so dark...and getting colder. Her hope rose as Mittere reached for her in return...but she couldn't feel those pink toes touching her own blue ones. Tarafa frowned, pushing harder, but she still couldn't capture the sensation of the touch.
Desperately she brought her gaze to Mittere's eyes. The world around her seemed to be growing dark, and only those blue eyes, the same color as her own, seemed to have any light. Even that too appeared to be fading.
"My love," she forced the words out through lips and with tongue that were oddly difficult to move. Though she meant to say the words at a normal volume, they came out the merest whisper. She thought the blue eyes told her it was okay, that everything would be all right.
Then the world went black.
An anguished keening arose from the den, a voice that no one had thought to hear sharing its grief with all the pride.
