I chuckled as my daughter - our daughter - struggled to her feet. She seemed unsure, half hiding beneath me and half wanting to greet her father. I stretched my nape to nudge her gently, and before long she was happily experiencing her first meal. I could feel it then, the glorious joy of motherhood, and suddenly the long months of torment seemed well worth the trouble. I sighed softly, a sound of complete and utter contentment. Essetia. Oh, how beautiful she was! Such a new arrival and yet already the light of my life! How differently I felt than I had not so long ago, when I had been almost resentful of the raging ball of hormones within my womb - but now there was only the pride in our creation. She finished suckling and moved toward my shoulder (I smiled at her awkward, spindly movements), wuffling and squealing.

She wandered forward a few times to investigate her father's large, feathered feet, and I giggled each time she scampered back to me, positively radiant with my joy. Even my worries seemed to have vacated my mind for the time being. My gaze meeting Thor's, he told me that I was just as strong. I tilted my head slightly to one side, considering his words. Perhaps he was right; perhaps I was stronger than even I knew. After all, I had not had a blackout for a while now, and I wondered if it had anything to do with the protective, mothering instincts gathered into that ball of worry in my stomach. Could I really keep it at bay to protect my daughter? Or perhaps it was Thor's influence, perhaps he was the key. Regardless, I was thrilled to have had so much uninterrupted time.

A vaguely familiar call breaks the quiet of the forest, and I struggle to remember where I might have heard it. A golden form dropped through the trees, and I smiled as I recognized my leader's dragon, Akaith. It was a brief moment, but finally I saw a larger form through the canopy, and I realized that this was why Mirage was called the DragonHeart. The noise that I had heard had been dragonsong, and for a moment, I stood in awe. But the moment passed swiftly, and as I wondered how my daughter would react to the beautiful creature that had just disappeared from our view, I turned my head to regard her with warm chocolate eyes. "Essetia," I said softly, a mother's love enveloped in the name. Then my eyes found Thor's again. "She's perfect." I could not keep the glee from my voice, able to relax completely in Thor's presence. "We're perfect," I added, without thinking, and there was a sharp intake of breath as I realized how carelessly I had spoken. I don't know that I had ever made my feelings for him clear in the form of words, though Essetia's creation probably gave him a clue.


"talk"

If love is surrender, then whose war is it anyway?