Giving a considering hum, Darshan’s head rocked from side to side. “Once, I suppose. Back when I was young and idealistic. My father was a little more forgiving and less insistent then. I had met this man who was, in my father’s eyes, perfectly capable of carrying a child to term.”
Hamish scrunched up his nose. “What?”
A flicker of confusion creased Darshan’s face. “You do not have—?” He sighed. “No, I suppose that sort of knowledge would be scarce,” he muttered, seemingly to himself before continuing in a slightly louder voice. “Vihaan is paalangik. I…” He frowned. “I know no other word for it. He had the physical requirements to conceive and carry a child had he the inclination.”
Not wishing to steer his lover off course now that he appeared willing to speak, Hamish silently waved the man on.
“Which was part of my point. He was a nice enough man, and we might have had something akin to romantic feelings for each other had we been left to ourselves. We were friends for some time before we attempted something deeper and…” Shaking his head, Darshan chuckled. “Honestly, we had barely gotten any further than a few chaste kisses here and there before my father—” Mentioning the man swiftly sobered him. “I knew Vihaan had no desire for children, that the idea of carrying one terrified him, but my father saw things differently. He never took Vihaan’s feelings into account and, ultimately, it was too much. Vihaan fled the court and, I believe, he oversees one of his family’s orchards near the Obuzan border.” His gaze dropped. “I have not spoken with him since. I lost a friend because of my father’s preference to focus only on the possibility of future grandchildren rather than our happiness.”
“So what’s going to happen down the road? If we marry—or even if we dinnae marry and continue as we are—” It seemed the option less likely to upset anyone in Minamist. He didn’t mind remaining as Darshan’s lover if he couldn’t be the man’s husband. “—and your father dies? You clearly dinnae want your nephew to inherit the throne, but do you really expect me to just stand aside whilst you—?”
Goddess, he couldn’t even say it. The very thought made him sick.
“No,” Darshan whispered. “There are other ways to become a parent.”
“Adoption, you mean?” It wasn’t generally a thing people talked about, but there were families who suddenly had one less babe to feed whilst another miraculously gained a member without the mother showing any signs of pregnancy.
“That is one, although I am certain that not only my father would baulk at the idea of me not having a least one child of my blood. What I meant is there are a number of choices and none of them require me to lie with anyone but you. One you would not be familiar with as it is… new.”
“Didnae hedge. I ken it involves magic. Just tell me.”
His lover stared at him, startled. “How—?”
Hamish laughed; a deep rumble that made his stomach ache. “The method of making bairns is as old as the land. The only way it could be new is if it’s nae natural. That would mean magic.”
Darshan slowly nodded. “A… little, yes.” His lover’s admission carried a heavy dose of caution, the tone not quite void of reluctance.
Magic. Something that would no doubt involve the two of them, otherwise Darshan could’ve done it far earlier. Taking a deep breath, Hamish blurted the first thought that came to mind, “Are you thinking I’ll object?”
“Well, if you do not mind me saying so, you look rather aghast at the prospect.”
“The way you’ve been acting, all the secrecy and deflection, I half expected to find you’re planning on impregnating me.” A horrid thought overtook all else as he spoke. “You havenae already done that, have you?” He had been feeling a bit weird the last couple of days. Slightly bloated.
Darshan stared back at him, those hazel eyes bulging. A snort of hastily-muffled laughter erupted from his lover. He bent over, grasping fistfuls of blanket. “Have I already done what?” he managed between fits of coughing and gasping.
“You dinnae have to laugh. I dinnae ken what a spellster’s capable of.”
Darshan grinned. “Not that.” He crawled across the bed. “I do not think you—” He shook his head and threaded his fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp before fisting a great handful of dark curls. “Using magic on a living being is rather limited to what the body can already do naturally.”
“Like a man taking on, and defeating, an opponent that should’ve been too strong for him?”
His lover scoffed. “That was a simple adjustment pertaining to my healer studies. It heals tears in the muscle at the same rate as they are torn. I cannot maintain it for long before it starts to take its toll.” Darshan ran a finger up Hamish’s chest, creating little spirals along the way. “But fortunately I did not have to.”
Hamish mumbled what he hoped sounded like an agreement, his thoughts more focused on his lover’s actions rather than the man’s words. “Are other spellsters capable of making someone carry a child, then?”
“Only if you have the specific equipment that I am quite certain you are lacking. Besides…” His lover curled against Hamish’s chest as if he wasn’t lying near-naked on the man’s bed. “If it was possible for one man to impregnate another, I would much rather take on that risk than leave it to you.”
Hamish absently wrapped his arms around Darshan’s shoulders. With his mind trying to figure out just how the conversation had landed here, he managed little more than a light, “Oh?”
“My healing capabilities would be enough to ward off most dangers and, perhaps, even keep me from dying. But that is not an issue.” He took a deep breath, his chest pressing against Hamish’s. “What I plan on doing is making use of a
