Soma slept late the following morning, waking only when the urge to relieve himself became too strong for him to sleep any longer.

After struggling to roll over -his body felt like lead, and it wasn’t just because of his expanded waistline; he was still very tired- he scooted awkwardly towards the edge of the bed and hefted himself up.

Once standing, he stretched, rubbing his back with one hand and trying to relieve some pressure. The baby chose that moment to give a sharp kick, reminding him why he’d woken in the first place, and he shuffled down the hall to the bathroom as quickly as he could.

There was a looking-glass over wash basin in the bathroom. Soma glanced at it, taking in what he saw reflected there.

He looked horrible; his hair sticking up all over the place, face still splotchy from all the crying he’d done the night before. Under his eyes were dark circles; he knew he’d hardly gotten enough sleep. The fire had died out in the night and the room had gotten cold. He’d awoken several times, shivering. And when he did sleep…His dreams were filled with vague, shadowy figures, troubling and frightening.

The result was that he looked pale and wan, and not at all like himself.

He looked down, unable to stand the sight of his own face any longer. The mound of his belly beneath his shirt was a welcome sight; despite everything, he was excited about this baby.

It didn’t matter that the mental image he had of the baby’s father was fast fading. All he really remembered of the man was rich velvet robes and a cloud of dark, curly hair. He hadn’t really felt anything for him; the servant was just a means to an end -- He was looking for some fun and Romi had been willing. He had been nice; Soma didn’t even charge him. He hoped Romi remembered the night with fondness, because Soma knew their tryst had changed his life for the better and he was grateful for that.

Lifting the soft, thick fabric of his shirt, Soma ran a hand over the smooth flesh of his rotund stomach. He smiled a little as the baby rolled beneath his fingers, stretching within its warm little cocoon.

It would undoubtedly be a big baby; Soma knew there were a scant few weeks left until he delivered and the baby seemed to be growing by the second now that they were so close to the end. In just the few weeks he’d been in the village, his original clothing had become completely useless as his middle expanded to house the growing baby.

Now, his firm stomach sloped outward from just below his chest, round and mountainous were he to lie flat on his back. Of course, he didn’t do that very often any more -breathing was kind of necessary to existence- but it was true nonetheless.

His bellybutton hadn’t popped yet, though sometimes it had come pretty close, peeking out when he laughed or took a deep breath or had just eaten a big meal. It was a strange feeling, and Soma wasn’t quite sure if he wanted it to just give way and turn outwards for good, or if he was glad it hadn’t happened yet. He’d heard -from a regular in the dining room who had several children already and was just starting a new pregnancy- that the little nub of flesh, unused to being exposed, was incredibly sensitive.

And while that could be fun…Soma had been tiring much more quickly the last few days and he didn’t think he could handle being aroused and tired at the same time.

The sudden growling of his stomach brought him back to reality. He wasn’t surprised to realize how hungry he was; now that he’d relieved himself, some of the pressure in his tight stomach had waned. Though he felt ravenous, knew he wouldn’t be able to eat much; his tummy was already pretty full.

He pulled his shirt back down, covering his swollen middle, and started the slow descent down the stairs.

Maybe after he ate something, he would look a little better.

“Hey, Soma! How’s the weather treatin’ you?”

Tor must have left Brenan’s Fish Shoppe, because Brenan himself was outside, knocking icicles from the eaves with a broom handle, jumping back out of the way as they came crashing to the ground.

Brenan was a tall, slightly-paunchy man with curly white-blond hair and an easy laugh. He was the village’s chief fisherman; in the warmer months, he traveled a lot to places where fish were abundant. In the fall, he pickled and smoked his catches to last the village through the winter. True to the local economy, he charged people anything from the odd coin to a flashy, fast-paced story in exchange for his goods and he was well-liked by most who met him.

Soma liked him because Brenan didn’t constantly ask how he was feeling.

“Weather’s okay.” Soma grunted, bracing his back with both hands as he leaned to look up at the icicles glinting in the sun, “Looks like it’s turning out to be a nice day today.”

In truth, the redhead was really starting to feel at home in the cold climate of the North. Though he put up a good front and appeared to the world cheerful and fun-loving, Soma had spent most of his adult years feeling frozen and empty; as if a block of ice had found its way in to his heart and remained there. Perhaps it was circumstances that had lead him to that point; perhaps it was just him. In any case, he felt a little less icy when he was in a place colder than his own core.

“Spring is coming.” Brenan agreed, nodding, “The endless winter is almost over. Soon I’ll be out fishing and the village will be planting and herding and getting ready for next winter.” He swung the broom at the last of the icicles, leaping back as it gave in to gravity and fell to the ground, then paused to look at Soma, leaning on the wooden handle. “And you look like it’s almost over for you too, eh?” Even with the thick, bulky jacket he was wearing, it was easy for Brenan to see just how much extra weight Soma had gained over the last week or so.

“Yes,” Soma patted his protruding stomach, “Only a fortnight or so left.”

“You’re in a good place to be havin’ a baby.” Brenan continued, “All of the children here were born to men, since we only got three women -and Maura don’t count, ‘cause she isn’t really a woman yet- so we know how to go about helping a man give birth.”

“I know.”

“And…” Brenan turned, glancing around the town, expression contemplative, “I hope you do decide to stay. Not for Killian -though I would love to see him happy- but because we get more travelers in town during the warm months and you’d be good for business. People in the North love a good story and you’re the best story teller the village has ever seen. If you stay, word will spread and people will travel from all over the realm to hear your tales. It might be selfish of me to think that way, but having you here would be good for the village.”

“…I never thought of it that way.” And truly, Soma hadn’t. He knew there were more people hanging out at the inn, of course, and that they were coming to see him. But he’d assumed that the novelty would eventually wear off; that they would grow tired of hearing his stories. It had never occurred to him that people would come from other places to listen to him as well.

It seemed impossible that one little thing -his story telling- could change the life of an entire village.

“Maybe I will stick around for a while.” He decided, “I do like it here. After a lifetime of warm weather, I like the cold. And it wouldn’t be realistic to think I can keep traveling after the baby is born, anyway. I might as well settle in for a while.”

“Good to hear it!” Brenan replied, voice hearty, a smile stretching across his face, “Every one’s taken a liking to you, my Western friend. They’ll be glad to hear they don’t have to worry about you leaving. And you know the whole village’ll jump at the chance to help out with your baby, too.”

“Of course.” Soma couldn’t help smiling in return, hands resting on his bulging stomach, “I wouldn’t expect any less of every one. And I also don’t expect Killian to let any one get the chance.”

At that, Brenan laughed, shaking his head as he gathered the broom and headed back inside. “Take care, Soma.” He waved over his shoulder, still chuckling to himself as the door to the Fish Shoppe gently closed behind him.

Soma smiled a little down at his stomach. He’d only been half-joking, but suddenly, the prospect of Killian taking care of both him and the baby seemed very appealing.

It was sometime around dawn when Killian returned, half-waking Soma as he crawled in to bed with him, pulling him close. The redhead hadn’t gotten much sleep; he’d been too keyed up and worried to get a good, restful sleep.

“…Is Jock okay?” He mumbled as Killian’s arms wound around him. He could feel the other man’s face pressing in to his shoulder, and one hand caressed his belly as if Killian were reassuring himself that the baby was still safely inside.

“He will be in a day or two.” Killian murmured against his skin, still stroking the warm, tight flesh of Soma’s pregnancy, hoping to feel a kick or roll and frowning lightly when he didn’t. “Baby was turned the wrong way. It was a very difficult labor and,” He yawned, “Tor had to turn the baby.”

“S’it all right?” Soma pulled the blankets tighter around them, a shiver suddenly squirming its way up his spine. He knew all too well how difficult it was to lose a baby; knew just how awful it felt. No one else should ever have to feel that kind of pain. “The baby, I mean.”

“Small and quiet.” The blond’s voice had grown very soft and his hand stilled, low on Soma’s tummy, close to his thigh. There. A subtle movement from within. This baby was fine; probably just resting. “Only time will tell if he’ll make it…Both of them went through a lot yesterday.”

“I hope they’ll both be okay.” The way Killian was touching him felt nice and Soma found himself suddenly drowsy. He really hadn’t gotten much sleep and he suspected that Killian had gotten even less.

The other man was quiet for a long time, just pressing himself closer to Soma and molding their bodies together. He didn’t want to talk about it any more. Didn’t want to think about it. But any time he closed his eyes, a picture of Jock, weak and pale, sweat-soaked and whimpering in pain, sprang to mind. He could see Jock there, clearly, with Onslow clutching his hand, both telling him it would be okay and begging him not to leave. Killian had never seen Onslow cry before; had never seen emotions run so high in one place, all at one time.

And now, he was feeling both physically and mentally exhausted.

Soma’s shallow, even breathing was a sure sign that he had fallen asleep during the lull in their conversation.

Killian brushed the sleeping man’s hair back gently, leaning over to press a kiss to his forehead. “I hope you’ll be okay, Soma.” He whispered.

“I should be back sometime before dark. I wouldn’t leave you alone like this, but…We really do need the supplies, and -as you know- Maeve and Tor are still with Jock and the baby.”

“I’ll be fine.” Soma suppressed the urge to roll his eyes; Killian was being ridiculous. He’d felt fine over the past few days since the excitement with Jock and Onslow, and though the baby was due soon, he didn’t think they had a thing to worry about. The next village was only a few hours’ ride out and they did need the dry goods Killian was to be purchasing. “And no, you do not need to wait for Maeve and Tor to come back and I don’t need any one to stay with me; but you do need to go get the flour and oats and salt.”

“If you need anything-”

“I’ll be sure to go next door to Brenan’s if I need anything.”

Killian paused in the doorway, taking a minute to regard Soma. The redhead was illuminated by the glow of the fire, which made his hair burn even deeper scarlet than usual. He was turned slightly to the side, one hand supporting his arched back, the other rubbing gentle circles on the dome of his pregnant belly. He’d been carrying a lot lower the past couple days and there was no doubt in Killian’s mind that the baby would be born soon. He’d seen that unique shape a carrier’s stomach took towards the end dozens of times and it always indicated a quickly approaching birth.

He really didn’t want to leave Soma alone, but…They did need the supplies and he would be gone less than a day. Surely Soma would be all right…

“Just…” Killian took a step closer, catching Soma by the arm and leaning in for a kiss, “Just rest today, okay? You look tired.” He couldn’t help feeling that something odd was going happen; something seemed off about the day. Perhaps it was the weather; dawn was just breaking and the sky hung with thick clouds. Or maybe it was just that he didn’t want to leave Soma alone when he was so close.

Soma nodded. “I hadn’t planned on doing much more.” He allowed himself a moment to touch Killian’s hair, letting one silky curl slide through his fingers. “Now stop worrying and get going. I don’t want to cook my own dinner later, so I expect you back by evening.” At that, a half-smile tugged the corners of his mouth upwards, though he was feeling a bit too tired for a full blown grin.

Killian reluctantly pulled away, pausing to pat the other man’s round stomach. “You be good.” He told the baby sternly, his face so solemn it was almost comical.

“We’ll be fine.” Soma followed him to the door to see him off, leaning against the doorframe with an arm draped over his swollen stomach.

The blond nodded, pulling his hat low over his forehead and stepping outside. “See you later.”

“Safe travels, okay?” Soma watched from the threshold as Killian climbed in to the horse-drawn cart, already harnessed and ready to go. He waved over his shoulder as he flicked the reins and Soma waved back, gaze following the little wooden cart as it drove out of town.

Then he looked up at the sky and the dark, foreboding clouds hanging heavy there, and hoped the snow would hold off until tomorrow.

Something startled Soma out of a deep sleep sometime later in the day.

Suddenly awake, the redhead glanced around blearily, rubbing his eyes and trying to figure out what had woken him.

He’d fallen asleep in the easy chair, head lolled to the side, the book he’d been browsing through slipping from his fingers to the floor.

He rose, stretching and rubbing the tense muscles of his neck, trying to sooth the crick that had developed there due to the awkward position he’d been sleeping in. His back hurt worse than usual, but the pain felt different, lower, and he was almost certain it hadn’t come from sleeping sitting up in the chair.

He yawned, bracing himself against the wall with one hand as he tried to get his bearings. Upon standing, something had felt different…Like he could get a deep breath for the first time in weeks, but as if breathing in too deeply would cause him to pop. The pressure in his lower body had increased greatly; it felt as if the baby had settled even lower in his hips.

As soon as he looked down, he knew why.

He’d dropped even more.

…That wasn’t good.

A sudden tightness beginning in his lower back and radiating through his stomach caused him to gasp softly, hands flying to his bulging belly.

A contraction.

That was even worse.

It was over almost as quickly as it began. The pain subsided and Soma let out a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding, lifting the hem of his sweater to look at his stomach. The skin was shiny-smooth in the dim light of the dying fire, stretched -apparently- to its limit. He ran both hands around the curve, careful to avoid the sensitive nub of bellybutton, and hoping this was just a practice contraction like the few he’d had over the past week or so.

It wasn’t.

Another one followed no more than five minutes later.

Maybe it was time to go to Brenan’s.

With careful steps, Soma made his way towards the door, one hand bracing his aching back, the other resting beneath his oblong stomach. It almost felt that with every step, the baby was sinking lower and lower, moving more in to position for entry to the world.

He grabbed his cloak off the coat hook in the entryway, tossing it loosely around him, opened the door and…

Was greeted by a whirl of white.

With the passage of time while he’d slept came the snow. There must have been at least a foot on the ground. The sky was an ashy, pale color and fat, heavy flakes fell quickly from above. Soma could hardly make out the shape of the house across the way through the heavy snowfall.

There was no way he could go out in that, not even to go next door to Brenan’s.

Icy fingers of fear clutched at his heart.

And there was no way Killian was going to come home in it, either.

All day long, Killian had been unable to shake the feeling that something was wrong.

He’d arrived at the dry goods store well before the storm began; the journey had been no different than any other.

Eduard had the order waiting, all packaged neatly in barrels and sacks. He helped Killian load and cover the cart, then invited him in for a warm drink.

“I can’t stay long.” Killian told his friend as he stepped through the door of the cluttered shop, “I need to keep moving if I want to beat the weather.” He removed only his gloves and muffler, not intending to stay any longer than it took to gulp down a mug of warm spiced cider.

“I don’t think you’ll make it.” Eduard frowned, placing the thick ceramic mug on the table before Killian, “And you’d be foolish to try. You should just stay the night; you know you’re always welcome.”

The offer was tempting -it was bitter cold and the wind speed had been steadily increasing- and Killian knew that the quarters above Eduard’s shop were warm and cozy. For a moment, he considered staying; Soma had been fine when he’d left and he’d be fine until the next morning.

Except…There was that feeling again, gnawing at the pit of his stomach, telling him something was not right.

Soma had said he was fine, but Killian knew he really wasn’t. He had easily been able to see the fatigue in the other man’s face. And he knew all too well how awkward and uncomfortable Soma had been feeling lately; the poor man had been tossing and turning every night, shifting awkwardly in any chair he sat in. He’d been tired and achy and there was no doubt in Killian’s mind that he could go in to labor at any time.

So no, there was no way he could stay the night, even if it took him longer than usual to get back home.

“I really can’t stay, Eduard.” He took a swig from the mug, feeling the alcohol seep through his body and warm him, “I made a promise I’d be back tonight…And the person waiting for me is too important; I won’t break that promise.”

Eduard gave him a long, hard look. Killian looked determined, serious and certain that he could outrun the storm.

But more than that, he looked worried.

The storm broke and the sun peeked over the horizon as Killian offered Soma his squalling newborn daughter, fresh and clean.

Tiredly, Soma looked down at the infant cradled against his chest, taking in the fuzz of crimson hair, soft skin, tiny fingers and toes. Her face was red and scrunched as she cried, but as he stroked a hand across her little head and down her bare back, she quieted, tucking a tiny curled fist close to her face.

She was, of course, the most beautiful baby in the world.

Soma folded his large hands around her, suddenly aware of the chill in the room. It wouldn’t do for her to catch cold; even though Killian had gone to get fresh bedding and clothing for them both, it seemed like he had been gone long enough to warrant worry.

It amazed him just how much he loved her already.

He hadn’t felt much in regards to the baby during the entire pregnancy; perhaps he’d feared getting attached after losing his other baby. But now that she was there, in his arms, her skin warm against his…She was a living, breathing child -his child- not just something incubating inside of him.

She was his; the best thing he’d ever done in his life. And if he stayed, here in this village, with Killian…He could give her the best things in life.

Killian stopped in the doorway, taking a moment to watch both mother and child. Soma’s head was lowered as he looked down at his daughter, hair obscuring his face from view. The baby had stopped crying and was mostly hidden by his hands, but she was still making a small mewling sound as if determined to continue announcing her presence.

Soma quietly allowed the blond to take the baby -he must have been exhausted- and swaddle her. She quieted even more once she was warm, her little pink mouth forming a perfect O as she yawned. Killian smiled down at her, setting her in the cradle beside the bed and taking a moment to watch her sleep.

Then he set about freshening the bedding and helping Soma clean himself up.

“You should rest.” Killian said as he tucked Soma back in to bed, pulling the eiderdown comforter up to the other man’s chin, “You worked really hard today.” He ran a hand tenderly along Soma’s cheek, gazing down at him lovingly. “If she wakes, I’ll take care of her.”

“Skuld.”

Soma’s voice was so soft, Killian thought he imagined it. For a moment, he just looked at the redhead, resting against the fluffed pillows, eyes shut, hair bright against his pale face. He looked like he could sleep for a million years; Killian couldn’t even begin to imagine how difficult the previous day’s events had been for him.

“What?”

“Her name.” Bright turquoise eyes blinked open again, seeking out Killian’s face, “It’s Skuld.” I’ll stay. He couldn’t say it; couldn’t bring himself to utter the words. Always. But he hoped the message was clear. He gave his child a Northern name; he wanted to stay. Here was where he wanted to be; where they belonged. Here was the future, suddenly so bright.

“It’s a good name.” Killian gave the baby one last look -she was still sleeping peacefully- and crawled in to the bed next to Soma, burrowing under the blanket beside him and seeking the redhead’s hand beneath the cover.

Soma smiled as their fingers brushed together, twining them through Killian’s and curling towards the other man’s body.

Killian, suddenly tired himself, leaned in and kissed first Soma’s forehead, then his lips, soft, gentle and full of promise. “I’m proud of you.” He whispered, “I love you.”

“I know.” He couldn’t say it back; not yet, though the feeling was there, and Soma knew it.

Because, for the first time that he could remember, he didn’t feel cold.

-----

End Notes: Here we are, thirty-five pages and 15000 words later.

Thank you, every one, for helping to make this story a success! I'm still blown away by the fact that it is the most viewed thread at this board and I know that's in part to all of you reading it.

I don't plan on continuing it, but I will tell you that Killian and Soma got a happily ever after, with the two of them falling in love and remaining together, raising Skuld. There will be, of course, tough times for them, but...Real love isn’t something pretty and easy and magical…It's this struggle. It’s life.

Skuld's name, by the way, is taken from Norse mythology. Skuld is one of the Norns -the Norse fates- and she (if I recall correctly) is the one responsible for measuring a person's destiny. Her name means "future" and when I was trying to come up with a Nordic name for the baby, I kept coming back to hers, which I ultimately decided on.

Oh, and Jock and Onslow's baby? He totally survived <3