Mother of Midnight

Chapter 248 – Idyllic

“I won’t eat you. Either of you. You’re free to leave,” said Vivienne, her voice carrying the weight of a grudging truce. One hand rested protectively over her abdomen, the other braced against the back of the fainting couch she lounged upon.

It hadn’t grown much since the day before—but it had grown. Subtle, but undeniable. A slow swelling beneath her skin that felt almost alien in its speed. Two weeks. That’s what Akhenna had said. It should’ve sounded absurd.

But nothing about her existence had ever been typical.

“Thank you,” Lyridia said, inclining her head. “I do not wish to make an enemy of a primordial by killing her champion.”

Vivienne rolled her eyes and gave an exaggerated sigh. “Yes, yes, I’m terrifying. We all know. So what now? You’ve met me. You gave your cryptic little tidbits. So what’s next, goddess of stories?”

Lyridia didn’t flinch at the mockery in Vivienne’s tone. She stood her ground, fingers laced in front of her with irritating serenity. “I said I could help Rava regain her memories. It isn’t something I can just grant with the snap of my fingers—not without cost—but I can arrange a story. One where she walks the path of her past, where the narrative itself leads her back to what was lost.”

Vivienne turned her head, just enough to look at Rava seated beside her on the couch. Her massive lover was still, steady, silent—but always present. Always there.

“What do you think, love?” she asked softly.

“No,” Rava said without hesitation.

Vivienne blinked. “No?”

Lyridia’s brows furrowed slightly. “But… I’m offering you the chance to be whole again. Your past—your self—it could all return. This isn’t something most people ever get the chance at. You could remember everything.”

Rava didn’t move. Her voice was low and unshakable. “No.”

“Why?” Vivienne asked, her tone more gentle this time, confused but curious.

Rava turned to look at her, eyes steady. “You said this morning you’re due in two weeks. I’m not abandoning you.”

Vivienne’s lips parted, but no sound came.

Not at first.

Something in her chest clenched—not pain, not fear. Just… heat. A warmth that settled under her ribs and curled there, stubborn and heavy. It wasn’t softness. Not exactly. But it was close.

“You wouldn’t be abandoning me,” she said quietly. “Not forever. Just long enough to remember.”

Rava shook her head. “Not even a day.”

There was no wavering in her voice. No doubt. The decision had already been made, long before Lyridia opened her mouth. It didn’t matter what was being offered—Rava wasn’t leaving Vivienne’s side. Not now. Not while she was vulnerable.

Not while she was carrying their child.

Vivienne exhaled slowly, her claws curling gently over Rava’s thick, calloused fingers. “You big fool.”

Rava shrugged.

Vivienne looked back up at Lyridia, her expression unreadable. “Well, there’s your answer. The only story she wants to be in right now is mine.”

Lyridia didn’t argue. She just gave a slow nod, her lips pressed together, expression touched by something unspoken—regret, maybe. Or understanding.

“Very well,” Lyridia said, brushing nonexistent dust from her cloak. “Then I will take my leave. Thank you for the hospitality. Your servants are… talented.” Her voice held the faintest trace of mischief, as if she were trying to provoke one last response.

The Goddess of Stories stood and bowed, graceful and fluid in her movements.

“Mhm. Goodbye,” Vivienne replied with disinterest, not even glancing her way.

With a flick of her fingers, Lyridia opened a ripple in the air—an iridescent tear that shimmered like the surface of a disturbed pond. She stepped through it without hesitation, the portal closing silently behind her, leaving behind only a faint trace of lavender and ink.

Silence lingered in the room for a moment. Only Entheris remained, sitting calmly across from them like some half-forgotten statue, all angles and polished metal, hands folded neatly in their lap.

Vivienne let her head rest back against Rava’s shoulder and tilted her gaze up. “Would you be willing to ask if Korriva will meet with us?” she asked softly, her tone unusually gentle.

Rava nodded and started to rise—but Vivienne’s clawed hand caught her halfway, pressing her lover back down with lazy firmness.

“Not right now,” she murmured, her voice velvet-smooth. “Today, or maybe tomorrow. No need to rush.” Her long black claw trailed seductively up the center of Rava’s abdomen, drawing a small shiver out of the larger woman.

Rava grunted, but didn’t resist.

“Shall I leave?” Entheris asked, finally breaking the silence, their tone carefully neutral.

“Mm, sure,” Vivienne replied, waving them off without looking, already turning her full attention back to the one who mattered.

As Entheris rose and quietly made their way out of the lounge, the door clicked softly shut behind them, and Vivienne nestled herself deeper into Rava’s lap with a slow exhale.

Just the two of them now.

And their child, curled and growing fast beneath her skin.

“Actually,” Vivienne hummed, stretching luxuriously across Rava’s lap, “I think I might tell Liora she has a sibling on the way. She deserves to know… and it’s been an entire bell since I last gave her some kisses. That’s practically neglect.”

Rava grunted her agreement, low and noncommittal, but made no move to argue.

Vivienne turned slightly and gave her a sly smile. “Carry me? I’m so sore…”

Rava narrowed her eyes, clearly not buying it. “Are you?”

Vivienne gave a scandalized gasp, one hand to her chest. “How dare you question a delicate lady’s suffering.”

“You’re not delicate,” Rava muttered, her skeptical glare lingering a moment longer.

“No, but I’ll make any excuse to be in those big, strong arms.” She fluttered her lashes, tail curling lazily around Rava’s thigh. “You know I have a thing for muscles in my partners…”

Rava’s pupils dilated just a little as she let out a low, hungry growl. “I wish to put another child in you.”

Vivienne laughed, genuinely and delightfully. “Oh, sweetheart. Later.” She tapped Rava’s nose with a claw. “For now, carry me to Liora. She’s probably sulking in her room, pretending she doesn’t want attention.”

“Fine,” Rava grumbled, though her claws were already curling under Vivienne’s legs, lifting her with practiced ease.

Vivienne wrapped her arms around her neck, nuzzling into the space beneath her jaw. “Mmm, this is the life.”

“Brat,” Rava murmured—but her arms held her just a little tighter than necessary.

Rava carried her down the halls of the estate with heavy, deliberate steps. Her clawed feet thudded softly on the stone, her tail swaying behind her, while Vivienne reclined lazily in her arms, utterly content. She trailed one finger along the curve of Rava’s collarbone, watching the way her lover’s eyes stayed fixed ahead, focused and stoic, even as her ears twitched faintly at every touch.

“You’re blushing,” Vivienne teased.

“I do not blush,” Rava growled under her breath.

“You’re adorable when you lie.”

“I do not lie, either.”

Vivienne just giggled and kissed her jaw, right on the scar that wasn’t there anymore. “Mmm. There used to be a mark there. I miss it.”

“You’re strange.”

“I’m perfect,” Vivienne corrected sweetly. “And spoiled. So carry your perfect, spoiled mate to our daughter faster, or I might start whining.”

Rava grunted, but quickened her pace. Her long strides took them swiftly through the corridors, past archways of pale stone and filtered light. They rounded the final corner leading toward Liora’s quarters, and Vivienne leaned forward in Rava’s arms to gently knock on the door with her claw.

“Mijita, you there?”

Silence.

Vivienne’s brow furrowed. She leaned closer and pressed her ear to the door. Nothing. No breathing. No heartbeat. No telltale hum of her daughter's presence. Her tail twitched.

“Maybe she’s elsewhere, then. Let’s try the garden.”

Rava nodded and carried her through the estate’s back halls to the wide terrace that opened to the sprawling garden behind the house. Late afternoon sunlight glinted off the glass sculptures and crystalline roses, their petals chiming faintly in the breeze.

Kivvy was there, covered head to toe in soot, goggles pushed up onto her forehead, and a long-barreled firearm resting beside her. Smoke still wafted from the scorched patch of target stones she’d been practicing on.

She looked up at the approaching pair, blinking through the grime. “Uhh, hey Viv… why is Rava carrying you? What’d you do now?”

Vivienne waved a clawed hand lazily, reclining deeper into Rava’s arms like a queen in a palanquin. “I’ll tell you after I tell Liora. Speaking of—which way did my sweet little daughter vanish off to? You seen her?”

Kivvy tugged her glove off with her teeth. “Mmm, maybe? I think I heard something about town. She said something like ‘I’ll be back before you notice I’m gone,’ and Reniza was with her.”

Vivienne went very still.

Her smile didn’t fade, but something behind her eyes chilled.

“Town,” she repeated, slowly. “With Renzia.”

“Yeah,” said Kivvy, tilting her head. “Was that not planned?”

Vivienne’s voice remained calm, but her tail flicked once, sharply. “No. It was not.”

Rava growled low in her throat, already turning toward the gate.

Vivienne laid a hand gently on her chest to still her. “Wait. We don’t know where in town. Or how long they’ve been there.”

Kivvy blinked at the tension in the air. “I mean, Reniza’s careful. She wouldn’t let anything happen to Liora.”

“I know,” Vivienne said, trying to will her voice into something lighter. “But Liora… she’s still recovering. Her bones may be mended, but the wounds inside her haven’t fully scarred over. And the people of Serkoth aren’t exactly known for their warm hospitality, especially toward girls with too many eyes and the wrong mother.”

Rava’s fists clenched.

“I trust Renzia,” Vivienne continued. “But I should’ve been told first.”

Her black eyes glittered, and her smile twisted faintly.

“Guess I’ll have to make it very clear next time how decisions about my daughter are made.”

Vivienne tapped gently on Rava’s bicep, her claws brushing against the firm muscle beneath. Rava slowed, then came to a stop, allowing Vivienne to slide down from her arms. She landed gracefully, though her tail flicked behind her for balance as she adjusted to her own weight again.

“Let’s split up and find them,” Vivienne said, smoothing out the folds of her dress and brushing a few flecks of soot from her hip with a lazy hand.

Rava nodded once, already scanning the estate grounds with sharp, predatory eyes.

Vivienne looked up at her, something warmer in her gaze now. “I love you,” she said softly, tilting her head, her voice quieter in the breeze.

Rava’s expression barely shifted, but the growl in her chest softened. “Mm. Love you too.”

They didn’t need a kiss or a drawn-out farewell. Just that. Simple. Solid.

Vivienne turned on her heel and began walking briskly toward the south entrance of the estate—the path that led down into Serkoth proper. Her gait was confident, but her mind raced. Each step faster than the last.

Stay calm. No blood yet. But if someone so much as looked at her wrong…

Behind her, Rava moved in the opposite direction without a word, vanishing into the trees like a hunting shadow.

She stopped at the edge, looking out into the town, how the citizens seemed to take a wide berth around it and how the roads were much quieter than they were before.

Beneath her breath, she began to sing—a low, layered melody that seemed to hum in time with the shadows themselves. The cadence resonated in her chest and echoed outward like a rippling pool. Inky black shapes began to rise from the edges of buildings, the cracks between stones, the undersides of leaves. Dozens of small creatures formed from shadow and song, each with too many eyes and not enough symmetry, all of them bristling with quiet hunger and unerring loyalty.

She sent them her will, her image of Liora—the sweet face, the long dark lashes, the childlike stubbornness in her jaw—and bade them to seek.

Find her. Follow the scent of that mannequin. Return to me when you do.

With a hiss, the beasts scattered, melting into alleys, slipping beneath doors, vanishing through windows like a tide of living ink.

Vivienne exhaled sharply, then moved.

She bolted forward, her clawed feet silent against the stone. The streets blurred around her, a flicker of motion here, a confused murmur from a passerby there. She didn’t stop. Couldn’t.

The city was hers to move through.

A leap sent her vaulting onto a low roof. Her bare feet gripped the tile, and she landed light as breath. Another bound took her higher, then another. She sprinted across the rooftops, tail slicing the air behind her for balance, her eyes scanning every street below for a flash of familiar red hair—or the eerie porcelain glow of Renzia’s mannequin form.

Please be safe, Mijita. Please.

Vivienne’s breath came steady despite the speed. The rooftops rolled out beneath her, each leap smoother than the last, shadows dancing in her wake. The wind tugged at her long hair, the crystal strands at the ends shimmering faintly under the rising sun.

She passed over street vendors just setting up, the scent of spiced bread and sizzling meats briefly catching in her nose. Her stomach gave a small protest, but she ignored it.

Her baby could wait. Her daughter could not.

She vaulted across a wide alley, her claws scraping the edge of a gutter before she launched forward again. Her eyes flicked across the crowds—old women hauling baskets, children kicking painted stones, a few Lekine guards standing idle at a corner. None of them were who she sought.

Where are you, Liora…?

A flicker in the corner of her vision—movement, familiar. She skidded to a stop, crouching low. Below, passing through a narrow side street, she saw them.

A mannequin’s stiff gait. Red hair bound loosely with a ribbon. The unmistakable shimmer of a glamour hanging around them, a thin veil to make them seem less strange.

Found you.

Vivienne didn’t leap down immediately. She watched. Renzia was leading Liora—yes, her, unmistakable—by the hand, gently but firmly. Liora looked distracted. Not frightened. Her head turned occasionally, curious about the things around her. She was dressed well, her hair brushed, her eyes alert.

Vivienne’s gut still twisted.

She trusted Renzia—but only so far. And she hadn’t been asked.

She dropped off the edge of the roof and landed in the street behind them without a sound.

“Hello, girls,” she purred.

Renzia stiffened and turned. Her eyeless face gave no expression, but her voice came smooth and careful. “We were just—get-ting a snack for the gob-lins. She—want-ed to see—the stalls.”

Liora perked up. “Mommy! Look, they’re selling little dolls that look like aetherbeasts!”

Vivienne’s tension ebbed just a little. She crossed the space in a few quiet steps and knelt in front of her daughter, brushing a hand across her cheek.

“You should’ve told me you were going,” she murmured gently. “I was worried.”

Liora blinked. “Renzia said you were resting and she didn’t want to wake you.”

Vivienne turned her gaze up to the mannequin.

“I—beli-eved—it—would—be—fine,” Renzia replied. “She—wanted—air.”

Vivienne exhaled through her nose. Her voice stayed soft, but her tail lashed behind her. “Next time, you ask. Always.”

“Yes—Mistress.”

Vivienne scooped Liora up into her arms, holding her tight.

“You scared me, mijita.”

“I’m sorry, Mommy.”

“I’m not mad. Just… I want to be there. Always.”

Liora nuzzled into her chest, and Vivienne stood, cradling her with a strength that was both effortless and tender.

“Come,” she said at last, voice a little lighter. “Let’s go see those silly little dolls. Then you can help me tell your little sibling that she’s coming soon.”

Liora gasped, eyes going wide. “I’m getting a little brother or sister?!”

Vivienne grinned, sharp and warm all at once. “Mhm. In two weeks.”

Renzia followed a pace behind, silent as ever.

And as they walked, Vivienne’s shadow beasts peeled away one by one from hiding, their task complete.