Chapter 1: Most Treasured

"I will make something truly astonishing." - Floki, Vikings

Low groans reverberated through the birthing chamber. Rhythmic pants had saturated the air and drips trickled from the rocky ceiling, unnoticed when they fell on the straining body of the mother-to-be. She was alone. A veteran responsible for many previous bundles of beginning life, she was keenly aware that this was an unusually difficult birth. She had been in labor since the dawn of the previous day and night was again closing in. Between uncontrollable urges to push this new one out, she rested, gathering what strength was left and praying it would be enough. There was no one to help her. The very thought would never have even occurred beneath her knitted and sweated brow. Life-giving was a sacred process to be waged by the giver and the given. If the young one was not strong enough to survive, if she was not strong enough to push it out, then the young one would perish and even she might die. As her ancestors taught, it was the only godly way to live. Only the strong would carry on. Weakness would be separated from the lineage. The descendants of her Forebearers and the ongoing line of her mate would continue to be kept at the gilt peak of inherited and cultivated potential.

Her whole body glistened as she writhed in the spasm of another contraction. Gripping her middle, she readied her hands to accompany her pelvic muscles with a push from above. Calling on the Gods and the souls of all Bearers who had gone before, she bore down, gnashing her complex jaws in agony! With painful slowness, the silky membrane-wrapped shape at last slipped from between her strong crouched legs as gravity assisted its emergence. It plopped onto the bare stone floor, followed by a final gush of birthing fluids and tissue which brought another groan of relief from above. At last it was out! Gratefulness swept through the female's body at the successful liberation of her child. She bent to retrieve it from between her feet, scraping thin pale wet membrane from its face. Was it alive? Had it survived the crushing impulsions of her body? She held her own breath and listened with every cell. The newborn was limp and motionless. Quickly she inverted the baby to allow fluids to drain from its lungs and again she waited. Nothing. She gave it a skillful whack on the back and once more waited. Finally, tiny jawlets wavered and the little mouth opened to gasp for air. A few wheezing coughs while the little thing cleared its lungs and then the small chest settled down to regular breathing. She thought to examine its body and held it up, turning with a critical eye. It was another female! And it was whole, finely formed in fact, with good proportions and the promise of strength. She again exhaled in relief. It was over. She had, once more, produced a fine newborn. Her strong chin lifted a moment in pride and then dropped as she realized that this newling would most certainly be her last.

Childbearing passes for all Bearers, she knew. The time to declare her womb voluntarily barren had now come after so many cycles of successful birth. She had aged, reaching the time of her life to put mating and forming new life aside for more cronely duties. She would retire as a life Bearer. Her existence was not over yet, but her valued additions to the ever-active group of Clan pups would cease. There would be a ceremony where her contributions would be praised. All her living offspring would attend, from the smallest pup to her firstborn. She held this most precious infant more tightly, relishing the joy of replenished motherhood even as she sorrowed that this would be her last. "You are my most treasured one," she murmured, as the little one began to test its vocalizations. Faint mewling and grunting sounds were issued experimentally as the baby tested the power of her throat and lungs.

Lifting up the fussing child, the Bearer used her small inside fangs to precisely nip through the life cord that had nourished it and then went promptly to the bathing area to cleanse them both. Rapidly drying blood would be harder to clean off the longer she waited. Carefully, she held the now squalling squirmer with both hands as she waded in. Warm water brought life back into her tired bones as it dissolved the blood clinging to her pelvis and thighs. The infant was dipped up to her chin and warm water poured by hand over her bald sweetly knobbed head. In time, each little knob would sprout a smooth dark lock that would grow her entire life. The pup stopped complaining as the bath soothed her. When the mother was satisfied that her charge was clean, they both emerged to dry and clothe. Spotless white fur was swaddled around the again fussing infant. Her mother slipped a leather drape over her neck, shifting it so that the longer part hung over her front. It was excellent clothing for nursing her pup as it could easily be lifted or pushed aside. A long leather loincloth was hung with leather thong from her muscular hips. She frowned at the still mushy middle pudging over the top. It would take several days for her organs to shrink back from housing the pup. For now she would put up with an unslightly flabby jiggle for an abdomen. Momentarily she glazed at her reflection in the long mirror.

She was a good specimen of her kind, tall and broad, with ample hips to carry pups within and without. Her body was smooth and rounded with sinew and muscle, the living proof of her physical prowess. Even Bearers kept their bodies honed and battle ready. If there were ever to be a conflict in which their Warrior/Hunter mates were bested, the females stood ready as the last line of defense for the Clan's offspring. And a formidable defense they would be. Standing at least a head taller than their males, Yautja females were also nearly as well muscled and often stronger. Hunters trained long and hard to attract the attention of these brawnly beauties. Once attention was gained, they also had been schooled in how to plant their seed without risking injury from an enraptured female who might possess the wherewithal to toss them across the room as an act of passion!

She took a closer look at her face. Unlined yet with advanced age, she was still attractive enough with a beautifully sloped smooth crown which advertised her femininity. Below the boney ridge, smooth black locks sprouted, to cascade down her shoulders and back, reaching almost to her powerful hips. Beneath her smooth, yet noticeable brow ridge bright sepia eyes still glowed with the glory of newly accomplished motherhood. Fine outer jaws framed her mouth with their boney lengths each ending in a demure pearl-white pointed tush. A stream of small grunts returned her mind to her pup who was now demanding to be fed.

With newly learned kicks and squalls, the pup was lifted to her Bearer's bosom where it nudged and rooted for nourishment. A broad mandibular smile graced the mother's face as her child began to nurse vigorously. She felt her liquid of life flow into her feeding glands, responding to the demanding force of the baby's strong mouth. "You were starving?" She softly rumbled to her nursing child in words, accompanied by soft clicks of love. The mother reached into her memory for the proper words to speak. Only the most meaningful words would convey what was in her heart for this final child. This moment required a naming as well as a request for her pup's future.

"She is called Anu!" The Bearer lifted her head and boldly announced to the Gods. "She will be strong, brave, and wise! Only the best males will breed with her and her offspring will add greatness to our Clan! This is my word, my blessing for her! Hear me, Paya! Hear me Cetanu!"

The youngling was now sleeping contentedly in her arms. The mother tried to silence her own Bearer's voice echoing in her head, "Be careful what you ask the Gods for – you might get it." She swept the ancient words of wisdom aside and replaced them with a broad smile. Proudly, she went forth to formally present her pup to its Sire and to the Clan's Elders for inspection. An automatic notice of birthing success had been triggered to all interested parties the moment she and her newborn exited over the threshold of the birthing room. It was but a moderate journey from these traditional birthing caves back into the central conclave of dwellings. There, in the great meeting hall, they would already be waiting for her and Anu. Best not to keep them waiting, she knew from experience. Impatient dominant males could become cranky and she didn't want unnecessary rough handling for her precious pup. She was too tired from her ordeal to beat any of the males into proper submission. Her pace hastened over the stony path.