Chapter Text
Cereza let herself out of the back door of her small bungalow home in the outskirts of Manhattan, letting the massive backyard garden wash over her. It was one of Enzo’s properties she bought as a small base of operations…and a place to settle down some. There was a massive study for Luka, two kitchens (one Cereza turned into a small brewery for her magic only), and plenty of bedrooms for surprise visits from Jeanne, jetlagged but bright-eyed.
The witch wore a light, mid-thigh length vermillion sundress with off the shoulder, poofy sleeves and gladiator sandals to her knees. She let her hair out of her normal beehive style and wore it down in a long, thick braid down her back, tied off with her red ribbon. The last leg of spring hung in the air, with summer humidity on the way.
The air was warm and crisp, the sun caressing her legs as she walked. She padded down a stone path through the garden (a mix of flowers and herbs) to a shaded spot in the back. It was some kind of pen with chicken wire around it. She pulled out a bag of bird feed from her dress pocket. “Come out, you two! I have lunch!”
On cue, two birds poked their heads out of the chicken coop. One was a massive albino peacock with his feathers folded neatly on his back. The other was a black and red falcon. Both perked up when they heard Cereza’s voice as she opened the pen and let them out. The peacock let out a squawk of warning before it entered the pen.
The birds waited patiently for Cereza to drop some feed on the ground. The peacock eyed Cereza at first, before he turned his head to the falcon. The peacock dipped his head and backed off, letting the falcon get to the feed first.
“Oh, come off it, Balder,” Cereza mused, “there’s plenty for the two of you. You don’t need to act all chivalrous.”
Balder shook out some of his feathers, making a threatening rustling noise, before the falcon glared at him and he stopped. Instead, Balder dipped his head and pecked at the feed.
Cereza relaxed, sitting down on a bench nearby. “Thank you, Rosa.”
Rosa looked up, cocked her head, then returned to her lunch.
Cereza returned the feed to her pocket, and felt around in the other. Her phone was in her other pocket, resting against her thigh. She checked it, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, before returning it.
Her hand lingered on her phone against her thigh for a few moments…before she pulled it out and snaked her arm across her stomach. She breathed slowly, trying to calm herself.
Her ginger tea that morning felt like a distant memory, but the memory of the nausea that cut through her hit her again with full force. Another deep breath in, another deep breath out, forcing her stomach to relax.
How can I? When I’m—?
Something nudged her leg. She looked up to see Rosa again, finished with her lunch. Balder, meanwhile, wandered off somewhere when she wasn’t looking. She let him. He never strayed out of the yard, anyway, sometimes basking in the sun on her back porch when he needed some time alone.
Cereza took off her glasses to rub at her eyes, before putting them back on her nose. She tried to smile at the falcon, but it came out forced. “What?”
The falcon nudged her leg again, then hopped up on the bench next to her. The falcon cocked her head to the side, staring intently at Cereza.
Cereza’s voice hitched in her throat and she looked away, yanking her glasses off her face again. The world blurred out, but Rosa was close enough to her she could still see the falcon in decently clarity. She slipped her glasses into the neckline of her dress, blinking tears out of her grey eyes as she finally managed to look at the falcon again. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m…I’m okay.”
The falcon chittered. Calling her out on her bullshit, yet again.
Cereza looked over her shoulder, then around the yard again. There was no one besides the swaying trees and the distant sounds of rural traffic.
She took a long, long sigh, shifting uncomfortably where she sat on the bench. “Mummy,” Cereza whispered, “you’re listening, right?”
The falcon nodded her head.
“I’m…” she swallowed, pushing the sentence out painfully. “I’m two weeks along. I just tested this morning. I’m…I don’t know what I’m going to do . I-I wish you were here. I’ve never felt so alone.”
The falcon waddled into Cereza’s lap and sat down, cuddling her. Cereza wrapped her arms around the massive bird, feeling her hands sink into her oily feathers. The knot in her stomach deepened. The weight of the bird was comforting against her, as if protecting her little secret.
Cereza continued. “I haven’t…I haven’t told anyone, yet. I know I should tell Luka, but…” she trailed off, shaking her head. She blinked tears out of her eyes.
Pregnancies in the Umbra Witch clan were full of contradictions—even so after Cereza was born. They were both celebrated and reviled, joyous but also soul crushing events. Many sons were ripped from their mothers and sent away when they couldn’t become witches. It made Cereza shiver. How could they be so cruel?
Wait, but could her little secret be a Lumen Sage? The very thought made her head hurt. Was that even possible? She wondered why she didn’t have Lumen Sage powers when she was a child, even a smidgen of them, on more than one occasion. Sometimes, she wondered if it would have been better if she was a Sage and was excommunicated along with her father. But then her eyes burned at the thought of leaving her mother alone.
The falcon finally looked up at Cereza, cocking her head.
“How am I supposed to raise a kid? After all you went through with daddy…it’s not fair, is it? It just doesn’t seem fair to bring another life into this world, even with the witch hunts being over. I can’t put their life at risk.”
Rosa nuzzled into her side again.
“...I know, I know, I’d do anything to protect them. I’ve already done that a few times before,” Cereza mused, “but this is different. This is my child, not some alternative universe version of me, or the young god of chaos. It’s, y’know…” she trailed off. “My responsibility.”
Could she even go to a normal doctor? How different were Umbran pregnancies compared to a normal human? The only other person she could ask was Jeanne, but Cereza doubted she knew anything. The platinum witch was too involved in politics to know much about midwifery. Still—
“Mummy,” Cereza gasped, “please, tell me anything. Can you?”
The bird pulled away from Cereza and looked at her. Rosa stared for a long, long time, before shaking her feathered head.
Cereza’s shoulder dropped. “I was afraid that was the case. I—?”
“Hey! That’s my fucking hat!”
Cereza looked up, blinking tears out of her eyes, then put her glasses back on. Rosa jumped out of her lap and landed on the grass nearby.
They watched Luka explode from the back door of the small condo and race across the yard, chasing after Balder. Balder held Luka’s brown hat in his beak and made a beeline toward Rosa and Cereza in a flurry of feathers. He was surprisingly fast hauling the massive hat in his beak.
Cereza hid a smirk and a laugh behind her hand as Luka chased after Balder. He looked like he was in the middle of writing something—he had a dip pen stuck behind his ear and his hair pulled out of his face into a messy bun. He wore sweats and a t-shirt indoors, a stark contrast to his more adventure-y style get-up when he was out working. He barely had enough time to shove on sandals before bolting out into the garden in the back.
In no time, Luka was panting and sweaty, his hands on his knees at the edge of the treeline where the pen was, along with Cereza and Rosa. Balder, triumphantly, dropped Luka’s hat by Cereza’s feet. She reached over and pet the peacock on the head, her manicured nails gently scratching behind his ears. “Good boy.”
He chirped in response, a smug look on his face.
Luka padded over to Cereza and her two birds, face bright red. He wiped sweat out of his eyes, then glared at Balder. “The hell was that for? I said I was sorry for last time!”
Balder let out another threatening rusting noise, feathers shaking, before he turned on his talons and stalked off. Rosa looked between Cereza and Luka, before sitting down and watching the two humans.
Luka rubbed at the back of his neck, trying to shake off Rosa staring at him. “I thought you were out feeding them?”
“I was. Balder just has a mind of his own sometimes. It was quite entertaining, but Luka, why don’t you sit down?” Cereza asked.
Luka froze, doing the complete opposite. He studied Cereza’s face. “What’s the matter? You—you never call me that unless something’s really, really wrong. Are you okay?”
Cereza swallowed the lump in her throat. “Just sit.”
He did, plopping on the bench next to her. Luka looked her up and down, his gaze lingering on her neck, collarbone, and her shoulders, before catching himself on her dress. Her pale skin was gently sunkissed, and she looked like she was about to hit the beach.
He flushed again and looked up. “Um, you look nice. Love the red dress.”
She smiled. “Thank you, Cheshire.”
Luka’s smile faded. “Okay, is it Luka or Cheshire today? How fucked am I?” he whined.
“Not very, dear Cheshire. We can’t just enjoy the sunshine a bit?” Cereza leaned over and took his hand in hers, turning over his palm. She saw ink stains on his calloused hands; they were way more interesting than what she was trying to say.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, face still red, “I was in the middle of writing a paper. Got another tip from Rodin about the fae. It’s getting closer, I can feel it.”
Rosa nudged Cereza’s leg. She tried not to make a face. “Luka, I’m—I’m happy for you. Really, I’m just…”
Luka eyed her again, then grasped her hand, holding it. “What is it? You can tell me. We’ve been through too much shit for us to keep secrets, right?”
She nodded. “Yeah, um…”
Luka smirked at her, puffing his chest out. “I’ve never seen you so tongue tied, Cerezita. I didn’t think you were into the sweaty type.”
Cereza’s ears burned. She looked at the grass instead. “You’re going to be a daddy, Luka.”
He blinked. “What?”
She let out a shaky laugh. “Do I have to spell it out for you, Luka Redgrave? You’re—?”
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. He was uncomfortably hot from his run around the backyard and sweaty, but his arms were comforting around her. He buried his face into her neck and collarbone, holding her tightly. Her little not-so-secret was wedged between the two of them. She let out a grunt in his ear, and his hug lessened.
“Whaddaya mean? How did—how long have you known—?” Luka stammered. He went back to blushing again, his face on fire, a massive smile on his face. “I’m—?”
“In the last few days. Call it a witch’s instinct.” Cereza admitted. She knew there were digital tests, but she had to go the old school route anyway of an old Umbran recipe dating back to the Medieval Ages. If that was right, then—
But Luka was already at his feet, pulling Cereza with him. His fae paper was seemingly forgotten. “Come on! We have to tell everyone! What are you waiting for?”
There were many reasons why, actually. She had no idea what Jeanne would think, even as she worked to get her teaching degree for high school. Enzo was Enzo, but she wasn’t about to talk babies with his wife. Rodin would bellyache about her halos drying up for a while until she could fight again. What was she going to do if rogue angels tracked her down when she couldn’t defend herself? And dear Loptr, the crying—
Her own eyes welled over again and she had to stop Luka’s half-jog across the lawn. She wrenched her arm from his grasp, sending him stumbling. “Luka, I—?”
“Oh, shit, don’t cry—!” Luka begged. He took her by the shoulders. “I—baby steps, right?”
That made her cry harder, finally pawing at her eyes and glasses again. Wow, what she wouldn’t take to face Aesir again and being forced to give up both Eyes instead of this horseshit. Her tears were hot on her face, smudging her eyeliner and foundation.
All Luka could think of doing was holding her again, letting the late spring sun caress them. He pet her hair, running his fingers through her thick locks, murmuring in her ear. She let him, melting into his arms.
In the distance, Rosa and Balder watched.
“Well, that went better than I expected,” Rosa mused, side eyeing Balder.
Balder, stiff as ever, nodded. “Agreed.”
Rosa eyed him. “How did you know? You weren’t listening to us.”
Balder rustled his tail feathers again. “Call it a Sage’s instinct.”
Rosa hoped closer. “You’re excited, aren’t you?” she teased.
Balder, embarrassed, hid his face under his wing. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You acted the same way with Cereza.”
He shook his feathers out one more time. “What can we do to help? We can’t communicate with her like this, but—?”
“I’m thinking about it. We’ll figure something out. I won’t let her daughter’s life be stripped like how Cereza’s was. And I know you won’t let it, either. Right?”
Balder finally looked up, then nodded. “How do you know?”
Rosa gave him a knowing look. “Call it a Witch’s instinct.”