His mother had been thrilled at the news; his father had been, well, smug. Apparently there had been a bet between them that Foretold Of would have children first and he'd be the last of their brood to do so. Truth be told, he would have agreed with his mother; his sister had already seen her intended. Granted, it was only in visions, but she at least knew there would be someone. He'd been less sure of that. Until he meet Wishes in the Dark at least. And now children.Cursebreaker wandered the swamp, wondering with every step if Briar Rose was sending him on a wild goose chase. His aunt, haughty in her knowledge, had gone on a long spiel that he had, admittedly, mostly tuned out. Apparently, she had the belief that his mother was imbued with fairy dust and thus she'd needed no such help that her children would be healthy but he wasn't his mother and he shouldn't hold such was true for him. And he didn't, which was why, after hearing of blessings, he'd undertaken to finding one. Except the further he got from the family territory, the less certain he became of it all.
"There couldn't have been a map, of course," he sighed, as he imagined what the children would look like. He had a feeling a clutch of five was not in their future and that was all right by him. They'd be wholly outnumbered with that amount. Sacs might not be so hard and foals would be more dependent than not, surely, but then fillies and colts... No, he'd be quite all right with a smaller clutch. "Definitely no more than four." He didn't realized he'd spoken aloud.
"Ah, yes, four turned out to be a very good number for me," a kind, if gravelly, voice replied. A gentle chuckle sounded as the buck startled.
Tongue thick with worry, "You can read thoughts?" Cursebreaker barely managed to get the words out and suddenly found himself desperate to think of nothing.
"That would be worrying. Quite rude, too." The stag's smile was strangely compassionate and patient with small sharp teeth sliding out over his lips. Perhaps it was no wonder some kin found themselves unsure whether they should be relieved or terrified. "Your thoughts are quite safe until you speak them aloud, dear boy." And it was clear, then, that he was amused.
Cursebreaker felt himself flush, "Oh."
"A first time father, I think it?" At the buck's nod, "It is a wonderfully terrifying time, that. Do you have wishes for them? Any hopes or fears?"
It seemed as though the simple query as pushed the buck too far, whether into a vast field blooming with prospective futures or a graveyard littered with the bones of the utmost fears--"Would that unfairly burdened them?"
The stag blinked; thunderstruck by a notion that had never been brought up. It took him a fair moment to recover and his voice, gravel of sleep now gone, was far stronger as he shook his head, "A blessing is not a burden, child. It is a gift in hopes of securing our children a future that is not full of our own follies and downfalls." He let that sink in and then in a tone, soft in its conviction, "It is clear you have been well loved
and perhaps it is less easy for you to see the need for blessings. There are those that come to me who only ask for their children to be healthy. Others, whose parents have been less than helpful or who have none at all, wish to raise their children well. And then there are those who see themselves as ill-befitting, whether they think themselves terrible or incapable, they fear their children will suffer for taking after them. A blessing does not bend a child to its will, rather it provides a sturdy frame to help the child grow."Cursebreaker was silent. His mother had received no blessings, nor his aunt. And yet, he still felt burdened by his naming dream at times. Perhaps that was simply life.
"I meant no offense, sir, only I don't wish my hopes to feel like a heavy burden of expectations..."
"No offense was taken. Why don't we leave it at something simple?"
"May they be healthy, my desire is that they be strong, honorable, and brave..."
"They will be all of those and free to find their own paths, regardless of the expectations of others and those that arise from their naming dreams." With a knowing smile, the stag beckoned the buck closer and walked him back towards home. He thought a tale about a once cowardly buck, scared of everything, who found himself might help ease the new father's fears.
