?
I sit up and look at him in alarm and see what is happening.
“’ Good gods, why are humans so fragile?’” I say, in an imitation of him. “’Now, why are my eyes leaking?’ My dear sweet Eldrin. You have feelings. Do elves not cry?”
He swipes again at his face, and I melt as I see his chin tremble. “We cry over stories of great bravery and sacrifice. We cry when we grieve a loss. But I don’t understand this… I’m happy. I’ve never been this happy in my entire life, and yet I’m crying.”
Once again. I crawl into his lap. I kiss away the tears, kiss his tender lips, place a kiss on his forehead and wrap him in the tightest hug I can muster. “I call them the happy-sads. When you’re so happy, you don’t know what to do with yourself but emote. Does that help?”
“It’s true…and there is something else. One day, you’re going to die. Sooner than what is acceptable to me. And I will be alone.”
For this, I have no solution or good answer.
Because it’s true, I do love this haughty, strange creature in my arms. And it is equally unacceptable that we won’t grow old together on his terms.
I rub my hands over his arms and chest. “All I know how to do is enjoy the moments we have, then. And I’ll stay for as long as you want me to stay.”
He shakes his head. “You can’t leave even if I wanted you to leave. We are married now. We performed the bonding ritual.”
I pull back and study his face. “What do you mean, we are married now? You dick me, and we’re married? That’s not how it works, El.”
“I suppose I hadn’t made that clear enough. In my culture, we are married now. And it is very likely that we made a child. Or two. I lost count.”
“Excuse me?!”
He explains. “Every release from me draws down another egg. May I remind you of our efficiency?”
I do the math in my head. “Are you saying that every time you nut in me, I could get pregnant? What if we did it eight times in a day?”
Eldrin beams at me. “Then I would be the proudest of all elves. No one has produced eight at once.”
I stand up, gripping the blanket around my nakedness. I hiss, “I would be the Octomom! I could die!”
My lover stands, alarmed. “Die? No.”
My arms flail, and I start to panic. “Did the sex manuals tell you about the mortality rate of women delivering multiples? Because I don’t know, but I think I need to look that up!”
Eldrin places his hands on my shoulders. “There is nothing to panic about yet. We only did it twice. We will abstain until after the baby is born. But as you are a human, I don’t know if the multiples thing applies here.” While he’s scratching his head, I pace the room.
I come back to face him. “Tell me, what exactly type of manuals have you been reading?”
“The educational ones.”
I nod, breathing slowly and calming myself. “No watching porn?”
He shrugs. “Screens do nothing for me. I suspect it’s why we do not create electronics in Santa’s workshops. The glow is harsh and offensive to our eyes. But I have access to any human books I want.”
I look around the place, which is devoid of books. “How do you get them?”
“This is where you will have to accept another layer of magic, but it may take some time to understand. We can speak to trees and plants, even dead ones. Books are made of wood pulp, and those trees still carry energy that speaks to other trees. I can read virtually anything made of paper just by communing with the trees. What’s the matter? You look skeptical, my sweet Clara.”
I shake my head. “No erotica?”
“I do not think so.”
“Not even romance?”
“What is romance other than what your dictionary says?”
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