Esti held a flat bronze disc in her hands, her reflection showing up shivery and wan in its mirrored surface. Her hair was pulled back in a twist, intricately woven and braided and tucked, but with a loose tail coming down her back as though it couldn't be contained. Feathers were stuck in her hair, and a heavy red tunic hung from her shoulders, bedecked with shimmering shell beads and bright yellow embroidery. Patterns to represent the sun and life, birth, rebirth, love, swirled down her sides and over the scooped V cut of the neck, ending in a circular pattern placed right over her belly.

That part was unnerving. It was like it was on purpose. And the way Amaya had sewn the sides in, tucked them to fit Esti's body, and added a pair of ties to the back for extra snugness, made the wedding tunic fit Esti like a glove. "I'm taking it off," she said quickly, ignoring the grasping hands of Amaya and her friend.

"Don't you like it?" Her mother looked hurt, so Esti turned back and smiled. "No, ama, I love it. But I want to keep it clean until the wedding."

She slipped out of the tunic and put her mourning tunic back on, going out into the Gathering to sit in the sun. "Are you feeling sick again?" Esti looked up, shook her head at her mother, and the two older ladies went away, leaving her to sit and stew in her worry. Her belly twisted with nausea where she sat, and she thought about going to find Inaki, but couldn't get up the energy.

Iñaki had escaped the rigor of female marriage preparations. His father had stopped by and thrown his tunic at him--brilliant yellow, sewn with the pattern of a sun, in beads, over the chest. He took it off and set it on top of his bedroll. His trousers were also decoratively dyed yellow, but didn't hamper him--they were light cotton. He strode outside, needing to be alone. The empty socket of his left eye throbbed as though pierced by the strong rays of the sun, and sweat tricked, in a mockery of the tears he would never shed again, down his cheekbone from beneath his patch.

He pushed his hair out of his face and brushed one hand down his bare chest self-consciously. he had lost musculature during his convalescence, and he realized he looked too young to be a warrior, let alone the heir to the Warlord, about to marry his sister.

There she was. A ways away from everyone, as usual.

"Esti!" She looked ill, as she always did these days. He lowered himself to sit next to her, painfully aware of everyone's eyes on them, and put an arm around her shoulders. "Are you feeling all right?"

She couldn't suppress a little smile at the sight of Iñaki; he always seemed to appear right when she needed him most. It would make him a good husband, she mused, but then the reality of the situation sank in again and she banished the thought. "Yes, Iña, I'm all right. Just a little tired." Esti tried to take comfort in her silly nickname for him, but couldn't. She twined her fingers together in her lap, twisted until they turned white, and then twisted the other way.

Iñaki put his arm around her shoulders, and she leaned against him, resting her twisted and feathered head on his shoulder. Esti was aware that people were watching, but she was too tired to care. She also knew that her appearance -- always looking ill or thin or tired -- had become a popular topic at the Gathering. There was already speculation. The tribe just didn't know how true it was yet.

She glanced at Iñaki, at his handsome face even under the eye-patch, and smiled. He was wearing yellow, the complement of her tunic. "How are you feeling? Are you nervous yet?"

"Nervous," Iñaki admitted, and he was able to laugh at himself, a little uncomfortably. "Well. I'm always nervous, b-b-but I'm particularly nervous today. I mean, I've never gotten married before. And..." He let his eyes trail down to her waist, not before taking another paranoid, rabbity glance around to make sure no one was watching. Too late--a hundred bead-black, arrow-sharp eyes were riveted to them. Oh well. Everyone would know soon enough. "... well, I can sort of feel how you're--different--I mean, when we're sleeping next to each other."

It was very strange. It made him dream of having a child. Inescapably, the dreams turned to horrific deaths. In one of them, he had a tiny daughter, and he killed her--stabbed her like Mikel had stabbed him. In another, his son, who looked like him when he was small, was killed by interloper soldiers with very white, cruel faces. It horrified him, and he woke up in a cold sweat hoping that it wasn't a vision of the future. He had not, and would not, tell Esti about his dreams. He could only imagine what she'd think.

"Are you nervous?" He rubbed his fingers together in a fitful, jittery gesture, his eyes moving from Esti to the watching Zerui (who looked quickly away when he looked up) and then back. It was a bad pantomime.

Esti laughed, but it was a twangy, desperate noise. "I've never gotten married before, either. And when we're sleeping next to each other... well... I hope you'll just be happy. Not worried about me being different. Pregnant." She said the last in a conspiratorial whisper, knowing that there were a thousand ears that would have given anything to hear her say that out loud. She hadn't before -- at least, not to Iñaki.

He was doing that thing with his hands, the thing he'd done since childhood. It was a flutter, much like her urge to twist her fingers until they hurt and bruised. Without thinking, she reached over and grabbed his hands, keeping them both from acting out their neuroses in public. "Nervous, yes. Of course. Maybe I'd try to run away if I weren't so sick and so tired."

Esti blushed, thinking about what she'd just said. "Not that I don't want to marry you. It's just -- this all happened very fast. Xanti... and then the baby, and now we're getting married. I'm not sure how to think about it all."

Iñaki laughed when Esti caught his hands, but he was a little annoyed. He didn't like it when people told him what to do, or stopped him from making gestures. Still, he didn't pull away, but leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek lightly. The people watching murmured. He tried to ignore them.

"No, don't worry," he said. "It isn't that. I just think about... I think that... I d-d-don't know. I'm thinking about war. It isn't a good time to have a baby or to get married or... you know, I sometimes think about what it felt like when M--when I lost my eye. I have never felt anything that painful. My body seizes up when I rememb-b-ber it." He shook his head. "Sorry. I should, we should be happy. I am happy. I love you."

Esti smiled at his kiss, chuckling a little and loosening her grip on his hands so she could smooth out her tunic. She brushed a speck of invisible dirt off the hem of her mourning tunic, feeling bland next to his vibrant yellow breeches, and sighed, resting her hands back in her lap. And what was that about him seizing up? Her body tilted forward so she could look up at him, twisting her head on her neck like an owl. "No, don't remember it then. You've been through enough pain, you don't need to think about it more. I'm here."

It was a sweet gesture, but even she knew that her presence wasn't going to prevent any pain. Merely being there was going to do nothing. But she wished fervently that she could protect him from that pain, the pain of remembering. "I love you, too. I'm happy. I wish I could be happier, but..."

One hand slid back, unerringly cupping against the swell that had begun to grow under her loose tunic. Her fingers moved silently against the bump, soothing herself more than anyone else. "My feelings are everywhere. Ama tells me it's because... because I have an extra soul in me now. But I guess I shouldn't talk about that, I don't want to make you more nervous. We can just be happy."

Maybe.

"Right," Iñaki said, wishing he didn't feel so hopeless. Or so lost. Their wedding was very soon, within the hour, as soon as the sun reached its zenith. But he was so nervous, he could hardly wait, and as the sun rose higher and higher, he grew more and more sweaty. More and more sticky, disgusting, irritated, and generally Not In The Mood. But this wasn't a matter of mood, it was just, just, just what was.

He returned Esti's embrace, and kissed her again, then sighed into her knotted, feather-laced hair. It smelled good, and also faintly of animal grease and flowers.

"An extra soul, really?" he said, drawing back a little. How strange, but then, it made sense. "Do you... I mean... do you feel it like a person?"

"No, not much like a person. Not yet, I mean. I can't feel it even though it's inside me, not..." she made a useless gesture with her hands. "Not physically. But I can feel its emotions -- like sometimes, it makes me very happy. And others, it makes me very sad. It's funny."

As funny as it was, it felt good to finally talk about it with Iñaki like grown-ups. Or at least, since they were both so young, like two people who were about to get married. Like two people who, within the hour, would be husband and wife. He would be her anaia-emaita, like she'd always wanted. So why was she so scared?

"And I can't tell if it's a boy or a girl, maybe because it's still just a soul. But I hope it's a boy, don't you? Because... because if it was a boy... then everyone would be able to see how blessed we are. I know we are. Because we're getting married. And if Eguzki hadn't blessed us, then, this wouldn't have happened. Right? It was meant to be."

Once she had convinced herself of someting, there was no shaking Esti. So she would just have to convince herself.

"I'll be happy if it's a boy or a girl," Iñaki said, hating himself. "I have to go and finish getting ready."

He excused himself, and changed into the tunic, which was too broad across the shoulders. Zeru hadn't bothered to have it changed, and why should he? Iñaki knew he still half-thought Xanti was coming back. At least he had agreed to perform the ceremony, as brief as it would be.

Iñaki put on his marriage tunic very slowly, then smoothed it along his body. It smelled very slightly of Zeru, of his acrid sweat. Maybe it was the scent of his youth, or the ghost of it. Iñaki sat down, staring at a frayed thread. He heard Peru's voice outside, and jerked upright. How long had it been?

"Iñaki, you idiot, you're going to miss your own wedding." Peru grabbed him by the arm, smiling at him a little diffidently. Poor Peru, he still didn't know why he wasn't talking to Mikel anymore.

Iñaki realized he felt sick.

Zeru and Esti were standing by a roaring fire, and Iñaki joined them. Most of the Zerui were watching. The atmosphere was not one of cheer; it was one of forboding.

Zeru went through the motions of the ceremony, which was brief. He clipped a lock of hair from each other them, twined it together, and threw it into the fire, where it sparked and vanished. That was the last of it--they were married.

"In Eguzki's name, forever." Was that irony? Of course.

"Yes," Iñaki said, taking her hand in his, looking into the fire.

As soon as Iñaki left, Esti went into her own tent to change, pulling the deep red tunic carefully over her head so she didn't undo any of the twists and tricks Amaya had put in her hair. A quick check in the mirror told her she hadn't -- brilliant black and white striped feathers mingled with the braids. She straightened one or two, making sure they were secure. And her clumsy obsessions ended when Amaya came to get her, pulling her to her feet.

"You're already showing!" she exclaimed, running a hand over the slight lump that had formed under the circle beading on the tunic. "It hasn't been so long -- when I was pregnant with Xanti, I carried in the front, like you. It will be a boy for sure. A pity Xanti can't be here, Eguzki rest him."

Esti nodded mechanically, offering her mother a sympathetic smile. 'A pity Xanti can't be here' was obviously code for 'A pity you're marrying the wrong brother and cursing the tribe'. Would anyone ever forget that Iñaki was born second? She was still the right sister -- she had still done what was right.

Amaya led her through the large crowd of Zerui, to the hollow center where a fire blazed and her father waited. Zeru gave her the briefest of nods, unhappy, and Amaya gave her a half-hearted pat on the shoulder before sinking into the crowd and disappearing. Esti began to tremble unconsciously -- she stared into the flames until a murmur from the crowd noted Iñaki's arrival, and looked at him, smiling, hoping his presence would ease her nerves.

It didn't.

And until the ceremony was over, and Zeru had cut a lock from each of their hair, his knife grazing a little too close to her flesh, she found she couldn't look too long at Iñaki. "Yes," she responded numbly to the ending phrases, letting her hand rest limply in her brother's. She looked at him, but he was looking into the fire.

"Anaia-emaita," she said, loud enough for the gathered crowd to hear. She glanced at her father, whose eyes reflected the fire with equal heat, and then trained her eyes on Iñaki. Forever. "I love you." This was almost whispered, but the crowd could see her lips move.

There was whispering. It swept through the crowd like wind through barley. Heads bent, heavy with suspicion and scrutiny. Iñaki, his sister-wife's hand clasped tightly in his own, heard them.

"Look at her. It seems Eguzki has blessedthem indeed."

"The raid was his idea. If Xanti hadn't come..."

"The Warlord looks so pleased."

Iñaki shut his ears to all of his, and drew Esti to him for a slow kiss. Then he put his arm around her waist, leading her through the crowd. It parted around them. Now she'd come to live with him, in his tent and in his living space in the longhouse. They would stop and give Eguzki a little blood from each of them tomorrow morning, finally sanctifying their union, and then it would be over. It would seem normal again, surely?

Iñaki realized, though, that they had never really spent all that much time together. He was with his friends, and then Amaya had tried to get him not to see her too much when they got older.

"Welcome, ah, home," he said, pulling open the flap of his tent for Esti. No one would expect to see them for the next few hours, but Iñaki wasn't sure he was in the mood. Still, Esti was very beautiful. More so lately. She was starting to look less pale and sick. "I think we should take off these stupid clothes." Humor could help.

Esti kept her head down, eyes carefully averted as they made their way through the crowd. She'd heard the gossip, all the suspicion that ran through the crowd, and a few choice remarks aimed for her ears, and it made her sick. All she wanted to do was escape from it, because this was not how your wedding was supposed to be. And now she was supposed to make herself a wife, it was how things were done. But what would it prove? The scrutiny was not going to let up. And when the baby came, it would probably only get worse.

She went into the tent, letting Iñaki hold the flap open for her and close it behind them. The colorless canvas did wonders for her skin, she mused, looking at her hands hopelessly. Summer sun always had helped Esti look more like a true Zerui.

"I think we should take off these stupid clothes."

Esti smiled at Iñaki, humoring him. She was a little nervous, and she could feel the bright edge of tears at the back of her mind, left there from the bad manners of the crowd outside. But here, she knew, she could relax. Iñaki already knew what there was to know, what the outsiders could only guess at. "I guess so, but I -- I look different."

Different was the only way she could put it, because she hated the bump that had begun to appear below her navel, but it had had more pleasant effects on other parts of her body. Pregnancy could be so confusing.

Iñaki smiled. "Don't worry, I see you all the time. It's fine." He pulled her toward him, his hands on her shoulders, then let them slide down her sides to her back, search for the ties to her tunic.

"Very tight, isn't it?" he muttered in her ear, sounding like he did when he talked about other girls with his sister. But now his sister was the only woman he loved. "I like it. Your..." He finished unlacing her and slid his hands beneath the cotton to touch skin, starting with her buttocks, then sliding up her sides to cup her breasts as the tunic fell to the floor. "They're bigger." He kissed her neck. He was still dressed, but it would be easier to take care of his clothing.

He saw what she meant about looking different. It didn't bother him exactly. It probably only showed up because the rest of her was so skinny. It was a little strange to think of there being another spirit there. Watching them.

"It's fine," he said, half to himself, kissing her again, starting to unwind the elaborate braids of her hair.

She was still shaking, even as Iñaki touched her; she didn't know why. Her hands slid up his sides, resting flat against the planes of his chest, and she tucked her head into the curve of his neck as his hands worked at the laces of her tunic. "Mhmm," Esti murmured in response to his remark about her tunic being tight, watching their shadows play out on the floor. And then his warm hands were on her, sliding up her sides to her breasts, and he had her attention again.

Esti's tunic slipped down her body and fell to the ground, making a little whoosh of dust where it fell. Even though she knew it was dirt, the dust made fantastic little sparkles in the sunlight -- it was easy to imagine that the glitter came from the two of them. She slid one hand down to her belly to try to cover it, instinctively, and realized that that would probably only make it more noticeable. He had said it was fine, but... he didn't seem sure about it.

"...I missed this. Missed you."

A feather fell out of the braid he was untying and fluttered down around her shoulders, brushing the jutting bone of her hip. She leaned into him, her hands finding the hem of his tunic and sliding underneath to rest on the warm skin of his hips and back. Feeling a little braver, Esti ran her hands up the length of his spine, sunken like a riverbed, up up up to his shoulders where the bright yellow cotton bunched around her elbows. And, with a quick kiss to his lips, she pulled it over his head and let it slide off her arms, falling beside the red circle of her tunic.

An awkward hour or so later, Iñaki came back to himself.

"I'm sorry," he said, biting his lip. Esti lay in the circle of his arms, his head bent close to the fragrant coils of her hair. He breathed out and felt a strand tickle his cheek. Beneath his hands he felt the softness of her skin.

It wasn't that he hadn't been up for it. It had just been, well, awkward. It wasn't usual for him. The first time, it had been natural, but ever since they had been found out about the baby, he couldn't get it out of his head. It wasn't that her body was outwardly different, but it had given him some very strange mental images.

He probably ought to talk to someone about it. Iñaki was pretty sure men didn't stop making love to their wives when they were pregnant. But who knew? Were you supposed to do something different? And he didn't want to ask, for fear of sounding like an idiot. Instead, he just sighed and shifted in bed.

"I love you." He kissed her brow. He would talk to someone tomorrow. "Are you all right?"

A light blush had gathered in Esti's cheeks and begun to trail its silky vines down her neck, but it was not a blush of exertion, and definitely not the blush of a deflowered virgin. Instead it was a flush, something more flustered than fulfilled. But, "Don't be sorry," she whispered. "I know what it is."

And she did, which was unexpected, because usually Esti's instincts were completely off the mark. Here, though, lying peacefully in Iñaki's arms, in the aftermath of their wedding... afternoon?... she was completely certain she knew what was bothering him. It was the same thing that was bothering her -- the baby. But while the little curled up soul, or tiny person, or whatever it was wreaked havoc on her emotions and her body, he was just the only man that had to be unfortunate enough to look at her.

"...I'm not pretty anymore."

A tear slid down her cheek, but it wasn't out of selfish want for her own physical comfort, or even that she felt ugly -- it was the overwhelming feeling of wrong when everything before this, with Iñaki, had felt right. This was not how a wedding was supposed to be, and this was not how anything was supposed to be. Nothing felt right, and everyone kept assuring her it was just the pregnancy, where before it had been 'just grief', or 'just the way women were'.

Esti picked up her hand and scrubbed at her cheek with it, trying to rub out the feeling.

"Oh, no, Esti." Iñaki bent his head, nuzzling her cheek, and kissed his way down the path her tear had traced. "No, I've always thought you're beautiful, I still think you're beautiful. It's just... strange, that's all. It feels funny." He shifted next to her, and kissed her again.

"It's just that, that I keep imagining the baby in there," he admitted, pulling back at last and lying down. He stared at the ceiling blankly, avoiding Esti's gaze. "I mean, I keep thinking, does it know what we're doing? That's... and then I've been having dreams that it's, that the b-b-baby is some sort of demon in there, and it's my fault. Of course it's my fault."

He bit his lip, still stroking her hair. "I'm just scared because it's new and strange. It was simpler before. I do love you. And you are pretty."

Esti nuzzled into his cheek at the same time he bent his head, letting him kiss at her cheek and say pretty things. In her heart, she believed him, but her head was mixed up and turned around backwards and she couldn't help but think he was only saying all these nice things because he thought he should. "That makes one of us," she replied, about picturing the baby. "I wish I could imagine it, but I -- I can't. It's there, but it's nothing to me, Iña, and I feel like I should feel something for it, but I don't. It's just something that's taking up space and making me feel awful about every -- everything." She stifled another hiccup with the heel of her hand and curled into his embrace, seeking comfort in his warmth, his arms.

"If it was a demon, I would've grown horns by now, or something..." Esti laughed a little at that, scrunching her tear-stained face in her best demon impression. It happened to be less than frightening, like a puppy trying to growl for the first time. "And it's not all your fault. I was there too, remember? Actually, I asked for it. So -- oh, Iñaki, I'm scared too. And I love you very much."

She looked up in time to see him bite his own lip again, and tentatively kissed him, catching his lower lip between her teeth very gently and letting go. "Thank you," Esti whispered, smiling a little, but still teary-eyed.

"What about you?" Iñaki said, looking at her anxiously, his head pillowed on his own arm. "My eye... d-d-d-does it disgust you?" It made him feel deformed, like a pitiable cripple, not the carefree young warrior he had been. He'd been tested and tried--and he had failed--and that was what the pit of scar on his face said. And it spoke of secret betrayal, of which he would never speak.

But more than that, he'd seen how Esti looked at it when she had seen him with his patch off--seen her revulsion and horror--and it had terrified him. Iñaki had tried hard not to think about it, but it was difficult. It kept bubbling up in the back of his mind.

"You aren't the only one who looks different, you know. And at least having a baby doesn't last forever." His tone was a little resentful, for a moment that of a jealous brother instead of a husband. Husband! It was unbelievable. He felt as if he were in a strange dream, a dream tinged with fear and melancholy and the lurid overtones of hope's mockery.

"And at least having a baby doesn't last forever."

"No," she said, in gentle rebuff, "because then you have a child. But I know what you mean. And no... it doesn't disgust me." Esti could see the skepticism in his eyes -- eye -- and smiled. Propping herself up on her elbows, she ran both hands through his hair, finding the knot that held his eyepatch on, and undoing it with one deft pull.

She knew the tissue beneath was still tender, so she lifted it from his face using the strings, and set it aside. Puckered pink-and-red tissue filled the space where his eye and eyelid had once been, and the long knife scar cut a darkened sliver down his face. Esti looked directly at him, at the injury. It was awful, but it was what had happened in the past that made it that way. And now, this was her husband that she was looking at, her anaia-emaita Iñaki. There was no one more handsome than Iñaki.

Bending her head to his face, Esti pressed a kiss to the bare spot on his eyebrow where the scar cut through, and even more lightly, to the corner of what had once been his eye. "It doesn't repulse me," she murmured, smiling a little. "I think you're the most handsome man I've ever met. You having been hurt, in a fight with an interloper, I think it's brave."

Her mouth cricked up on one side, into a playful smirk. "Besides, your scar makes you look dangerous and daring."

Iñaki held his body very still, his body quivering, rabbitlike. The scar tissue where his eye had been was still tender, but the pain mingled sweetly with the pleasure of Esti's kisses.

But.

"Esti, there's something I have to t-t-t-tell you," he said. He took a breath and moved one hand up, stroking Esti's hair. "It wasn't an interloper. You c-c-can't tell anyone." He had been stuttering more. He noticed, but it wasn't unexpected given his nerves.

"I think I know why he did it. It's because no one wants me to be Warlord. They know how I can be. But it was still... very... please tell no one, Esti." He brought up one hand, holding tightly to her upper arm. "It was Mikel."

"Mikel?"

She said it a little too loudly, then quieted down. "Mikel? Are you sure? there wasn't a... you didn't hit your head, or... you're not mistaken? No, I can tell you're not." Esti's eyes searched his face, her thumb grazing the arch of his ear tenderly. She looked into the deep brown of one of his eyes and missed the other -- and the sadness grew into anger, at Mikel, for doing this to Iñaki.

"How could he? Why?" she asked, and then realized he'd already answered her question. "No, that's not true. Maybe not everyone wants you to be Warlord, but some do. I do. I won't tell anyone." Her lips brushed his in a gentle kiss, but her mind was still overflowing with questions. 'Why?' being the predominant one.

And then she went defensive. "...He could have killed you! Then where would we have been? How could he be so cruel, to try and kill the Warlord's son? And my husband." Esti seemed to fill up with righteous fury, trembling a little with shock and anger.

"I won't tell anyone. But I won't forget, either. I never knew he was capable of something so evil." And, she thought, if he would try it once, there was a chance he might try again.

"I don't understand," Iñaki said, shaking his head. "I don't think he would try again, not now that Xanti is dead. I know Mikel. He does what he thinks is right. Maybe he was Eguzki's instrument too, maybe all this was meant to happen. I don't know. But I don't want him to die for it. What it did, what he did, was show me how serious it is to be Warlord. How important to him, to everyone, that I not be like I am. Like I was."

He sighed deeply, still watching Esti. So close, he could see the texture of her skin, the tiny wrinkles her forehead made as it contracted.

"I'm only pleased that He left me one eye, so I could look at you."

"If he tries again, and you die, then we will have no other choice except to pray that father lives forever. And both of us know, I think, that that isn't going to happen. Mikel knows it too. I don't think he would be so stupid." From her perch on her elbows beside him, Esti tried to relax, stroking his hair as though to remind herself that Mikel had done nothing to separate them. Her mind worked hard, mulling over the idea that someone had tried to murder her brother, taken out his eye... hurt him. It was infuriating to think that an interloper had done this, but Mikel -- that was a whole new level of emotion she wasn't prepared to go to.

Esti thought that the boys were friends; they had all been friends as children. Well, her brothers had been friends with Mikel, and she had been around too, perpetually toddling after the older children. "I just can't believe it," she murmured, looking down at Iñaki.

She chuckled, modest, but happy that he still wanted to look at her. "Lucky you -- I'm not much of a sight. I hope the..." It sounded so silly in her head! "I hope the baby looks more like you."

"I know, I know, it's crazy, but... I do understand. And you're right. I am safe now, and I think he knows that he can't touch me any longer." Mikel had always been not quite. Not quite his friend. More his leader. It was almost logical that he would try to save the people from Iñaki, just as he was trying to save them from the interlopers. It almost made sense, except that in a fundamental way it did not. Unless he was Eguzki's instrument.

But Iñaki was coming to believe that it was people who chose to be instruments of Eguzki, and not Eguzki who chose to make instruments of people. And he had chosen. His will would be the Sun God's, not Mikel's. And that was what made a Warlord. The thought was bitter and sweet, salt in his mouth.

"No, Esti..." Iñaki kissed her again, running one hand down the side of her cheek. Her skin was smooth. He had been running his fingers compulsively over the scar on his own face, and it was a blessed relief, a return to some sort of innocence, some co-remembered childhood, to feel the unblemished softness of her skin. "You're beautiful, you'll always be beautiful."

Esti smiled into his kiss, fitting the curve of her cheek into his palm as his fingertips brushed her face. "You'll always be the most handsome man I've ever seen. Two eyes or one eye or none, I'll still think so." Her smile turned into a grin as she looked down at him, separating herself enough to shift closer on the furs. Finally, something felt right -- and as she pressed herself to Iñaki, she could feel his heart beating to the self-same rhythm as her own.

She bent to kiss him again, one hand taking the patch he wore over his eye from where it lay and moving it. If she were to have him as a husband, there would be no hiding from one another. His eye -- and the one that was missing -- was a part of him, and Esti was determined to have every part of him. No one could love him more than she did, she was certain, even if he took other wives. And he could, but she doubted that they would get along with her very well.

Well, she would always have an advantage over any of Iñaki's other wives, should he choose to take any. Her child would be born first, and if it was a boy, would secure the line. That was hers and hers alone. It would be enough.

"I'm yours," she whispered between kisses, "Always." Esti's thumb brushed over the scar on his cheek, tracing a line back into his hair and over the arch of his ear. One hand entangled itself in his hair, the other swept down his side, pulling Iñaki to her. But it wasn't -- she rolled, winding up on her back, entwining them both. The heat of their bodies filled the thin space between them, and as Iñaki bent his head to meet her kiss, Esti lost herself in the curtain of his hair, forgetting all else.