Birthing// Castile, Any

[Ivar]

I V A R i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take She is just beginning to relax, Ivar sees, and then his question about Castile strips it all away from her. The mare had not seen him since the conception of their children then, he surmises, yet had still managed to survive a winter alone burdened with a double pregnancy. She is strong then, not just lovely. And alone, he is reminded as she shares the names of her children. Ivar’s expression had been neutral, and though a small frown creases his white forehead at her admission of Castile’s absence, he smooths it quickly away as she changes the subject. If she doesn’t wish to linger on the subject, then he won’t. Raul, he thinks as he looks at the buckskin colt with his mother’s hair. Santana is the tobiano with Castile’s dragon wings. “Castile had feathered wings like yours when he was little,” Ivar says absently to Sabra, remembering the gawky colt and the grey shore of Nerine. “I guess the dragon is stronger now.” His genes are anyway, thinks the stallion with a wry smile. The boys curl to sleep beneath her, which Ivar is grateful for. They are Castile’s children, which makes them safe, but they are still children. He is not the best with children. She introduce herself, and the name is familiar for another reason. He can’t recall it now though, and it’s not especially important. There will be time later. “I’m Ivar.” He tells her. “Though you have more important things on your mind than manners, now.” The kelpie glances down at the dozing children and then out at the green willow grove around them. “If you want to rest, I’d be glad to keep an eye out.” The offer is not uncharacteristic (Isobell had always assumed Ivar would take the responsibility, and she had been right). “I owe Castile a bit of babysitting, anyway.” he adds, failing to mention that he owes a solid two years, having left his daughter in the dragon’s care. The kelpie is not close enough to bewitch her with a touch, but he suspects she might just be strong enough to resist it anyway. Sabra does not strike him as particularly weak-minded; she’d carried twins alone and survived it and that is not a simple task. making those promises that i could not keep in my dark times, baby this is all i could be