Two And Four Is Five
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"No, everything's in order," Jessamine decided finally after looking at every crevice of Sineult's health, physical and emotional, for the last month and a half as well as the immediate present. Onyx was glad he wasn't a cub-bearer; he had never liked checkups too well. Sineult, on the other hand, had always lacked what most thought decent modesty at his highest ebb, and probably wouldn't have minded stripping naked in the middle of the living room. Some things never went away, and for Sineult, childhood was one of these.

Onyx sighed in relief. Sineult was grinning proudly, likely ready now to tell Fern if not the whole world, and hands that only a day or two ago had been prepared to wait a long time for more bundles to hold were busy rubbing the nonexistant hill that would be their second- and third-borns' home for eleven and a half more months, until the Change rolled around again and Sineult could give birth.

"Two," the smaller Kindred breathed contentedly, half to himself and half to his husband, with a look of such exuberance at what he'd made that Onyx just had to slide down off the counter he was perched on and go to hug him. Sineult had wanted twins since the first time he learned how many cubs Kindred could have, and even more after they started raising Fern and got to know the ins and outs of cubrearing. Now Sineult was sure he could handle the two when he got them.

"Are we going to tell the cub now?" Onyx asked placidly, pulling Sineult out of the seat to settle himself on it and lift the smaller Kindred into his lap. "He'll be excited... If he doesn't know already, that is," he added with a laugh, resting one cheek on Sineult's tousled head as he recalled the somber care which Fern had been bestowing upon the lucky doll all morning. "Did he have a doll, a little stuffed rag one, with him yesterday? I can't remember it, but he's been carrying that thing around all morning, feeding it and everything. I asked him what he was doing with it, and he said practicing."

"Don't think he 'ad it yes'erday." Sineult frowned, wrinkling his nose in thought. "An' I 'ope 'e doesn't know. I wanna tell 'im."

Jessamine, across the room putting things away, snorted laughter. "Go and tell him then! There's nothing keeping you two. Lupin and Hemlock will want to know how it's going too, and Jade will be upset if you don't tell him soon. You can get out of it for now by saying you didn't know, but if he's not informed by tomorrow you'll have some explaining to do, won't you, Onyx?"

"Hm," Onyx murmured ruefully, remembering various secrets from the past he had tried and failed to keep, only to wind up with sore ears from Jade's infuriated rants. A quiet cub Jade had been, but he had never put up well with having things kept from him.

Sineult bounced abruptly out of the redhead's lap, startling him out of his memories, and tugged him upright by both hands. "I'll tell 'em! C'me on, Onyx, you got t' help!" And with that Onyx was whisked out of the room towards the kitchen, where Fern had been heard taking his new captives for cookie-baking only minutes after Sineult and his husband went into Jessamine's workroom for the checkup. They were hard at work when Sineult hopped into the room dragging Onyx behind him, and Fern of course was directing from his high perch - both feet planted firmly on a wooden kitchen chair.

"We got t' tell y' somethin'!" Sineult announced importantly and at once, letting go of Onyx's overextended hand so that he could latch onto an arm instead. Lupin looked up from his bowl of red dough to offer his little brother a knowing grin; Fern went quiet in mid-order with his mouth still open. Taking a deep breath, Sineult paused...

He's gotten a lot better at dramatic performance since he came here, Onyx mused, feeling rather nostalgic. Their son blinked.

"Go on," Hemlock urged politely. Onyx was proud to note that he managed somehow not to wince when Sineult leveled a sharp look of serious consideration on him before continuing the speech.

"Hm. Fern, I tol' y' to sit down on chairs, y'll fall off. Anyways... what d' y' think abou' two likkle bro'hers?"

Fern, halfway through lowering himself obediently onto the chair, let out an excited cry ("Twins!") and fell off the other side. His da squealed, half-drowned out by the clatter of the bowl as Lupin dropped it, luckily right side up, on the counter and dived into the shadows beneath his feet to fish out the unfortunate cub, followed closely by his own mate. Onyx bit his lip, imagining blood, broken bones, or some other atrocity, but when Fern appeared again topside of the counter he didn't seem to have gotten so much as a bruise and, in true cub fashion, hadn't his spirits damped in the least.

"Sowwy, Da," he apologised briefly with a nervous smile. "Won't do i' 'gain. You really got cubs?"

Sineult smiled in bright relief, then remembered that he was supposed to be scolding and frowned darkly. "Tol' y' not to stan' on chairs! Nex' time y'll 'member better." A resigned sigh. "Maybe not," and he shrugged. "Yup, I got cubs."

"Two of 'em! Tha's twins!" the new big brother informed Hemlock proudly, throwing joyful arms around the older male's neck to snatch a quick hug before turning his attention back to his parents just as fast. "What're y' gonna name 'em? They're okay! An' how old's they?"

"How old are they," Onyx corrected automatically. He pulled out a chair for Sineult at a mostly clean part of the counter, another one for Fern, and one more beside Fern's for himself, then started systematically filling them while he spoke. "Your grand-da says they're just fine as far as he can see. You ought to know how old they are."

There was a pause while Fern's mouth pursed up in careful thought, tracing back days to the last time he'd been warned off his da and father's room for a night. It wasn't dangerous to have him in the house, certainly, but Kindred especially in these days did like a little privacy from their children during certain times of the year. Neither Sineult nor Onyx would ever hurt their own cub. There were just some things that weren't for curious table discussion the next morning, that was all.

"Six monfs," Fern decided firmly after a minute of deep concentration, adding with a triumphant smile, "Tha' makes on'y six more monfs 'til they're born! Then I c'n help take care of 'em!" He paused, his forehead furrowed as if recalling something important, and amended regretfully, "Sometimes."

"I woul'n't min' if you helped all t' time," Sineult teased lightheartedly, grinning at his son across Onyx. "It'll be busy!"

Out of the corner of his eye Onyx caught what looked like the end of a silent communication between his husband's brother and his mate. Apparently whatever they had decided was for certain, because before he could hardly even turn his head around to see them better they had laced hands and pressed up to the counter, looking serious and excited. Hemlock cleared his throat to catch the others' interest.

Now it was Sineult's turn to blink. "What?"

"We've got something to tell you, too," Lupin clarified, smiling shyly at his husband, half-brother, and brother-in-law. Tilting his head, Sineult gave careful attention to the proceedings; Fern was watching the whole thing with an air of someone who knew the secret and just wanted to know how those who didn't would take it, and Onyx raised an unnoticed eyebrow at him before fixing his own eyes on the excited surprise-keepers.

"Well, you know our Change is six months after yours, just a few weeks ago," Lupin started tentatively, grinning widely as if he couldn't help it in the least. "We were going to keep it a secret until we were really sure; even Jessamine doesn't know yet, I think. He may." The older blond shrugged. "You can't know with Jessamine. But nobody else knows."

"What is it?" Onyx broke in, ending the nervous tirade and making Lupin giggle oddly. His smile got, if possible, even wider.

"Mem, you say it, I can't!" he begged, and all at once it clicked in Onyx's head; his twin Jade had said that exact same thing when trying to announce his pregnancy with Beryl and Amber five years before.

"You're pregnant?"

With a gasp, Sineult was up and out of his chair. "Mem! Lup'n, are y'? How many is it d' y' think? 'Re they okay? Why weren't y' gonna tell us!? Y're sure 's cub?" Still stuttering questions, the younger Curan bolted closer to the broad counter to lean all the way across it for a hug.

Fern sighed in a way that made it quite clear how silly he thought they were all being. "Not a cub. 'S Scammony, an' he's mine. I said I was practicin'."

The whole room sputtered into silence. Leaning away from his brother, Sineult sent his firstborn a strange look of question, and, as the confused lull broke, Onyx asked, bewildered, "You knew about theirs?"

"'Course I did. I 'ave t' get ready for 'im," the orange-haired cub explained patiently, leaning across the countertop to grab the bowl and pull it over to him so he could go about his business. Lupin looked lost. Seeing this, his little brother's mouth firmed up.

"Fern, y're no' s'posed t' name people's cubs 'nless they say y' can," Sineult reasoned in a tone of exasperation, losing quite a few vowels along the way in his upset. "An' 'e can' be y'rs 'cause 'e's already got a da an' a fa'her. 'S mean to tell people somethin's y'rs tha' i'n't."

"But Da, I di'n't! Jus' is. 'S gotta be my cub, 'cause 'e won't 'ave nobody t' play with 'cept me - Amber's gotta take care of Ber an' not let 'im get 'urt, an' y' can't let Mica 'ave 'im, Mica'll dress 'im up in weird stuff. Won't 'ave no twin t' teach 'im things so I gotta! Tha' makes 'im my cub, doesn' it, Tala Lup'n?" Big eyes, lighter than his da's but just as green, got even bigger, filled up to overflowing with righteous indignation and turned pleadingly on Lupin. Lupin's bottom lip quivered.

"Fern, how did you know he won't have a twin? I said I'm having twins," the elder blond asked softly, leaning intently forwards, eyes shining with hidden tears. Sineult looked stricken, and Onyx himself felt a pang at the thought of the detail they'd forgotten, but Lupin obviously hadn't.

The cub-bearers in Lupin's family carried a rare defect, one that had been often investigated but never fully explained. Each of the cub-bearers could bear only one litter, usually a pair although Jade had uncovered one recorded case of a Bronan cub-bearer giving birth to triplets, two of which survived. At any rate, whether twins, triplets, or more, the males of the litter were always stillborn. Rarely could anything wrong with them be found; in almost every instance both males and cub-bearers were fair-sized, apparently healthy cubs who should have had as much of a chance of living as any other. If Lupin's father hadn't spent a night with a human girl who looked like his newly deceased husband in his grief, Lupin would never had had a chance of a sibling. Lupin's twin had been miscarried very early; even his little body had never touched the outside world.

But most twins were pairs of male and cub-bearer, supposedly designed to ward off the Lonely Sickness, the great dread of every cub-bearer. If Lupin was only carrying two then that made it 99.9 percent certain that he would, just as Fern said, come out of the pregnancy with only one cub.

Fern saw the tears focused his gaze into something apologetic and determined, leaning across the counter to touch his tala's still flat stomach. Sineult's bottom lip quivered; he didn't object to the precarious position.

"Don' worry," Fern promised sincerely. "'ll take care of 'im."

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