Rohenvi

Ruk had been a guest in the House for the last six weeks, and there were times Rohenvi wondered whether she could pour her bones out of bed after another bedding with him. While she always could make herself do the things which needed to be done around her own plantation, it was easier than it had been to delegate other tasks that she did not have to oversee herself. And Azed had noticed.

"I take it the soldiers and servants aren't theorizing which direction I lean anymore?" she asked, cutting into her meal.

"No," her brother commented wryly. "Now they're theorizing how long you'll keep your consort around."

She frowned. "Three months. As agreed."

"They're taking bets for longer. You're glowing, Matron."

"Peh!" She ate a few bites. "No wonder Mother threatened them with tongue-swell potions."

"They're going to talk about something, Roh, it's better when it's you," Azed said quietly. "My opinion was that if they're talking about their Matron's sex life and betting on it being longer and better than before, then they believe our House is stable and primed for growth. Just as you believe, yes?"

She nodded; her mouth was full and it was unbecoming to speak right then.

"You're trying to conceive, they know it. We're all looking in the same direction, to grow. It makes them hopeful."

She swallowed, her belly actually feeling...off at his calling that out. "But...they know it's just a test, yes? I...can't keep it, when it works."

Azed had his mouth closed, and he shrugged. "When were you going to call for two Palace witnesses?"

"When do you think I should?"

"Anytime, really," he said.

She stared at him. "What?"

"You've been eating more." Azed took a forkful himself. "And...hard to say, but something is different about you."

"What?"

"Just a feeling."

"Don't give me that!"

Azed smiled a little. "Well, for one, I've called you Roh like three times now and you've barely noticed. Matron."

She scowled. "But...it's only been six weeks!"

"Two-marks-of-sex-very-other-cycle-regular-like-a-footmarch-six-weeks," he drawled. "And if the potions help and Ruk's been that willing to please you, it wouldn't surprise me if you caught already. There's something to be said for Drow willpower and being open to the magic working."

Rohenvi thought on it more than once following that conversation. Open to the magic working...

Why weren't the potions she'd been taking the first thing to come to mind when Azed had said that?

******

"Well, well. Confirmed, with witnesses, Matron Thalluen," the Palace representative said with a nod. "Congratulations. Do we record the sire now?"

"Hm? Oh. No. Thank you, officer. He's not here...and I am not sure I'm keeping it."

The representative nodded, unconcerned as she packed up her scrolls with her smaller, male partner. Azed glanced at her but kept his face unreadable until after everyone had left and they had a private moment again.

"Not sure?" he whispered.

"You heard me," she responded stubbornly. "And in any case, I have over four weeks left of my bargain. I wouldn't do anything until after that time regardless."

Azed's expression was one of refined, mock-bewilderment. "Well, the seed has been planted. Mother would have said you don't really need him anymore."

She poked his chest so hard he nearly yelped. "I will take my remaining time for pleasure, First Son. Do not tease me about that."

He rubbed at the sore spot. "Yes, Matron."

******

"Are you sure?" Ruk asked again, panting.

"Yes!" she answered, arching her back a little as he pinched her nipple just how she liked. "I am sure, Ruk. Do it. Take me."

The crack of her ass was greased up so well it wouldn't dry out for a month, and her consort's hard erection rolled around between her buttocks, teasing them both for as long as they could stand as his fingers played with her netherhole and stretched her out a bit.

Now he finally had the head pressed to her own clean, purple pucker—one which his tongue was now as familiar as she was with his—and she felt her hole relaxing, letting herself be spread open wider and wider as his member sank into her ass. There was a little pain when she tightened up, which only encouraged her to breathe carefully, like he did, and stay relaxed.

Let him in, have him rut her this way. One of the few "dirty" things they hadn't tried yet.

After all, she was sure.

Ruk thrust in and she gasped. He paused. "Do you like it, Matron?"

It was intense; some part of her wasn't sure if she should like something so...invasive. But then she relaxed for a third time, breathed out, and imagined him spurting inside this last, virginal, unexplored place, and felt her netherlips become sensitive, and her tight, straining ring seemed to tingle around his cock.

"Yes," she whispered. "Slow...for now."

Ruk's instincts on how to pleasure her had a sharp edge, and this activity was no different. He fucked her, but slowly, with plenty of oil making their skin shine—she didn't even care if some got onto the sheets—and before too long, she wanted him to do it faster.

"Now it's your novice's netherhole that's thirsty for my cum?" he whispered into her ear, holding her from behind as they kneeled on his bed.

"Yes!" she gasped, feeling her clutching, slippery hole trembling around his pole. Then she cried out and squeezed him involuntarily when his hand shifted from her breast to her lonely labia. "Oh, Goddess!"

He fucked her in deeper, longer strokes, mostly out and all the way back in.

"And no one's pleasured you this way?"

"Ohhhh...!"

"Well, Matron? I am the first you've commanded to open you this way...?"

She twisted her neck back to ask without words for a kiss, which he did, pausing in his thrusts and holding himself deep inside so he could concentrate on kissing her. When they finished their kiss, Rohenvi leaned forward slowly and held herself up on all fours, positioning her knees and ass to comfortably take his thrusts. She looked back over her shoulder and smiled.

"You are the first, Ruk. Look down, watch yourself plowing this Noble asshole."

He shared a brief laugh with her but soon did just as she suggested; he looked down, holding her hips as he thrust between her buttocks. The sight clearly excited him, and she was already rubbing herself, luxuriating in his energy and passion servicing such a tight hole for her! He was not only the first to do this to her, but the first to "open" her womb, as well.

This time they didn't have to be concerned where his offering spilled; she wanted his glaze inside her ass, she wanted to feel it dripping out later. She wanted her hole loose from his cock, wanted to feel it shrinking slowly after he pulled out...

"Ahhhh...Roh..." he whispered, and she knew his voice well enough by now to know he was about to peak and as it began, Rohenvi writhed with the intense pleasure-pain of her netherhole being broken in.

Before he left her House, she wanted to try quite a few more things that a Matron shouldn't want from a commoner.

One specific commoner.

********

"Has it worked, then?" Ruk asked less than a week before their bargain was complete.

He finally noticed how tender her nipples had become to his touch, and that she was eating more. Much more. And he was dumbstruck sitting at her table.

She lifted her chin from habit, wanting to look elegant when she answered. "Yes, Ruk. I have caught, as I'd hoped to."

"When?" he asked, at least understanding that these changes had not come on since last eve. "How far?"

She exhaled, taking another bite, chewing and swallowing before answering. "My healer says I am about eight weeks in."

"You caught before I was even here four weeks?!" he exclaimed, almost too loudly.

She couldn't help but smile at the expression. "Azed suspected after about six. I only knew after taking my test."

"When was that, Matron?"

Rohenvi worked to keep that chin up. "Oh. The same week."

Ruk watched her directly, and for the first time since he had first arrived, she detected wariness in his eyes. "You've been keeping me here for the simple enjoyment, Matron?"

"Haven't you been enjoying yourself?" she responded placidly.

"I have, but..." He paused. "We still have a bargain, yes?"

She looked away first without meaning to, a strange discomfort piercing her chest. She snapped her gaze back at him immediately and shoring up her dignity. He still wanted to leave. He was just waiting for the time to leave. If she had told him earlier and allowed him to go once he'd fulfilled his purpose, he would have taken it. Belatedly she realized their bargain had never specified what happened when she caught—only what happened if she didn't.

"Of course we do, Ruk," she said without much inflection. "You'll stay the full three months. And I should not need to call on you again in another three." She breathed out, trying to still the nausea. "You can convince all your 'fringe' contacts you're still alive."

Fortunately, he didn't argue that particular oversight of the deal. And their coupling over the next few cycles was much slower, lower risk. Ruk was even being a bit too gentle...another reason she might have delayed telling him.

And on their final eve together, he showed her he was still afraid of her power.

"Matron, please. Don't."

As much as he toed the line on matching her during sex, wit for wit, bold action for bolder still, and even as he teased her endlessly during his stories, relaxed a bit too much in casual, private conversation with her... her trader could be very humble when he fully realized he was in danger.

He had his head resting in her lap, and he was on his knees on the floor, his hands on the back of his head where she could see them at first, but then she moved them herself to place them at rest on her hips.

"My Matron, please," he whispered. "I can't."

"It's just a symbol," she said, trying to sound stern and powerful, not hurt. "It has no real magic. But wearing it would let others know of your contact with this House, and more of those females who might be troublesome would not pursue you. It will protect you."

"I can't," he repeated.

"Don't you want the connection?" she asked more loudly, her exasperation slipping through. "You've earned it, Ruk! I would like to do business with you again. Perhaps I will invest in some of your caravans. I'm sure that would make the various masters happy."

"You do not want to get involved in my trade, Matron. Please, if you'll keep anyone safe with your symbol, keep your own House unsullied by deep Underdark connections."

She ran her fingers through his hair.

"You could just lie and take it, you fool," she whispered. "You need not make me so curious where you'll go, by not begging me like this. You could take my ring and toss it away later, how would I ever know? How would I even find you, if you did not answer a message left with Hirai?"

"Because you're not lying to me," he said, keeping his eyes on the fabric covering her lap. "You haven't been, Matron. I've seen cruelty a great deal, but I agreed to come here because I didn't see it in your eyes. You haven't lied to me, Matron, don't force me to lie to you. I can't take your ring. I can't lead you on thinking you can make any worthwhile connections through me."

She leaned back in her chair and gripped one of the arms of it, trying to stamp down the surge of heat in her chest. How dare he...?

Then her eyes stung and she looked toward the ceiling when he did not move from his position, trusting that she wasn't about to pour acid or poison into his ear in retribution for the rejection. She knew what the other Nobles would say. He dared do this now because she allowed him to. Because she was lax and invited it. And now look how she was acting toward the first sire she ever picked? Like she pursued a cherished First Son from a Top Tier House! Ruk had come from nowhere, from no House. His blood was worth nothing to any House!

She wanted to growl aloud in her frustration. Ruk didn't fit into her plans. She had almost forgotten about the Palace Consorts in her time with him. This had all been to prepare in presenting herself at Court!

How could you forget, 'Matron'?!

"Leave," she said. "Leave without my ring. Without any trace, if that's your wish. Fintre has your things, and Honaqi will take you back to the City." Now her throat hurt, and her vision was blurry. "Just...get out and never come back."

Ruk left as quickly as he could, as if he was afraid she would change her mind; a fact that didn't lessen the sting.

Later, in her empty, private quarters, she looked in a mirror naked, her hand covering her flat stomach. She couldn't even really tell. Not yet. Then she looked at the vial in her hand. The long-awaited test, the expulsion potion.

"Without a trace, if that's your wish," she repeated to herself. She began to pull on the stopper, then paused.

Kill anyone when you're in blind-heat-anger, her Mother had jested once, and they're guaranteed to draw a few shadowy pit traps around for you to fall into.

Surenat probably hadn't meant this. She had meant anyone who would miss the one killed in a rage. Not even Ruk would miss it; he knew perfectly well that no Matron would ever bear his seedling as her first child. He knew exactly what would happen, he just never asked for confirmation.

Still. Why do this when I'm so angry? It can wait until the next cycle.

She set it down on the washroom counter and laid down to rest.

********

"So...if it's 'not uncommon' for some Matrons to perform the test, then abort," she asked Azed a week later, "how many just...let it continue?"

His eyebrows raised up very high at first, but then he wiped the disbelief and tried to think, to answer her seriously.

"Some might be offered to the Valsharess and the Priestesses in ritual—"

"No," she said flatly, scowling at him.

He blinked at her expression, taken aback by its clarity. "Ah...well. Alright, if you believe the rumors, some of them end up in the Sanctuary, serving the Priestesses. Or the Palace always needs servants."

Azed watched her, trying to read her responses. She hadn't liked either of those, so he continued.

"Sometimes you can give one to serve in another House of your choice, but that can be...troublesome if they ever come back to cause trouble for your true heirs. Everyone knows who they are if they become grown."

"None just keep them? Even being not true heirs?"

"Most would tell you it's not worth the trouble, Roh," Azed said soberly. "If the child is aware she is the Matron's child of the House in which she lives, but is ignored in favor of younger siblings, it puts all of them at risk and in the worst cases can split a House if the true firstborn is female and garners enough military support despite her common blood. You can never know how it will turn out, sister, especially if you want more than one girl. Think very carefully before you decide to keep the offspring of a competent consort."

She felt like throwing something at him but suppressed it immediately. That was the early pregnancy making her more volatile. Azed had promised her he would never "double-speak" with her; he was only telling truths from his observant experience. She needed that right now, it wasn't his fault she felt so terrible.

"What if I waited long enough that we could tell from a spell if it was male or female?" she asked.

"To end a pregnancy at that point would be more risky to your health," he answered bluntly. "Possibly to your fertility as well. But... if you have the healing to do it, and you were willing to risk it..."

Azed couldn't encourage the risk, she could tell; he would be too worried about her.

"Your House might be nervous," he said instead. "Say it was male, Roh, what then? Do you think it will be any less disruption to the peace of this House? You wouldn't have time to raise him, especially after your Daughters come. Who is going to do it?"

Rohenvi stared at Azed, and he blinked and put up his hands. "Oh, no, absolutely not. Listen, sister, please, it is a bad idea to keep a common-blood in high living like a Noble. No good comes of it, not the least of which is respect to you from the other Matrons. The babe is a commoner, you realize that, right?"

"The babe is mine," she attempted to argue. "Noble because I'm Noble."

"The babe will also look less like the other Nobles, and they will be able to tell. You aren't doing the child any favors keeping it openly, Matron, male or female."

The siblings stared at each other for several beats.

"I'll think about it," Rohenvi said.

*******

"By our beloved Spider Queen, Matron Thalluen," her honored guest cooed. "Look at you! I hadn't realized you were already breeding. Which House has the honor?"

Rohenvi wished she could get away with slipping sleeping drops into the other Matron's taze. She had not left her plantation since conceiving, hoping to stay out of sight of the majority of Nobles for the next two years. But an odd number of them and the occasional Matron would come by, asking to visit. To refuse would only bring petty troubles she did not need, and there was nothing to be found peeking around her House; Azed had seen to it.

All the conversations went like this eventually.

"You have likely heard already, Matron Bovritz," she muttered before taking a sip of her hot drink to settle her roiling stomach. It wasn't the food; it was anger, and nerves.

"Then it is true?" she said with dramatic flair. "A commonblood sire."

"It proves my fertility, Matron Bovritz, and I will not risk something going wrong taking too many potions. I will see it through to birth."

"Well! How charming. What have you decided to do with it?" This Matron of the Eleventh House, one just above Rohenvi, tilted her head. She was easily two hundred years older. "The Sanctuary? The Palace? Or are you looking for an adoptive House?" The other Matron braced her chin on her palm, ignoring her taze. "I might be able to help you out, for a favor."

Rohenvi swallowed subtly. She already had a plan, but it might not hurt to have a cover story. And if Matron Bovritz was offering...

"What favor do you ask?" she asked.

*******

Rohenvi's birthing hurt enough to make it worthwhile to weep real tears, more than technically necessary, but she never cried out loud. A healthy, young Drow Mother carrying to fullness without complications experienced a birth which was nowhere near the level of agony some Nobles would have others believe. They acted as if the Nobles were some entirely different race from the commoners, they were more "sensitive," and the birth of their children was a much greater deal to be taken seriously.

All the Nobles knew how "common" Mothers could give birth without crying out once.

Her womb was strong, tensing up and contracting without her conscience control, and she concentrated on the sensation—the pain was nothing much, mostly abrupt shots of sharp cramping as the mouth of her womb opened up. She felt how so many different muscles and parts of her moved and shifted inside her belly, and her birth canal would be ready to stretch to its limit soon.

Rohenvi pushed her boy out of her body with only Azed as her witness, in her own room with the doors locked. She didn't call her healer. It was better this way.

*He is breathing,* Azed signed to her after clearing the mouth and nose of mucus, as she gasped for breath herself.

She nodded, admitting to herself she was exhausted and glad Azed was here to manage the first few steps. Drow newborns didn't tend to make noise, either; necessary for survival in the Underdark, although she'd heard out in the wilderness, the fluids and blood would draw danger even without noise. She was glad to be safe here.