“Here he comes! One last push Your Grace.” Then with one last rep of uterine dominance, Talo erupted forth in a bloody, sticky mess.

“Dear heavens, what’s wrong with his—”

“WAAAAAAAAAA!”

Saved by the cry. Nadine was at a loss for words. She was a third generation midwife, with hundreds of deliveries under her belt. This one was actually surprisingly smooth for a first child, but could she really say penis in front of the Grand Duke and Duchess? She actually felt perfectly fine discussing female anatomy, it was part and parcel with her profession. Still, it was taboo for women to discuss male genitalia, even if it was on a cute little baby.

“Let me examine the boy. Nadine you go ahead and start sewing up the tearing.” Powaw was a tired old man. He had been in service to the Grand Duke’s grandfather, Nixkamich, over 120 years prior. Back then, Powaw was the medicine man for a tribe that had yet to join the Great Kingdom, and Nixkamich was the high chief. Now he stood as the Chief Physician to the Grand Ducal Household of the West.

Even thinking of his title gave Powaw a headache. Powaw took baby Talo in his hands and began chanting quietly to himself. Swirls of green and blue light kept passing between his hands to Talo.

“You so much as touch me with me a needle, and I’ll kick your head off. My internal healing abilities will be sufficient.” Alsoomose had always been a prideful woman. If she could completely heal an arrow wound to the gut, she sure as hell was going to try and manage perineal tears herself.

“As you wish Your Grace. Remember that, even if you are healed, you might not return to your original state.” Nadine wasn’t going to push the issue. It wasn’t her vagina, and she was still cleaning up the feces and afterbirth.

“Congratulations Your Grace, it’s a boy with a good color and breath. It’s true that there might be some dysmorphism, but I’m fairly certain he’ll grow into it. We will, of course, monitor the situation and can devise a surgical intervention if needed.”

“What on earth are you blabbering about? May I hold him now?” eagerly asked Ahanu. Ahanu was right to be anxious. He was the first full inheritor of his title, but until this moment, he had no heir. Both his grandfather and father had expanded their power and rose in rank. This always weighed heavily on Ahanu’s heart, but the simple fact remained: the only way up was to become Emperor, and that would require a civil war.

By the Gods, it’s massive. There was his cute baby son. His first born. With good color and a healthy cry, and with what seemed huge on a baby, an 8cm penis. “Ha! By all means he’s a fine looking boy. What shall we name him dear?”

“Please…give him to me.” Alsoomose wasn’t used to showing vulnerability in front of anyone, even Ahanu. He’s so little and beautiful…and…and MINE. Alsoomose gently took Talo and held him against her chest. Tears flowed freely as she watched their breathing synchronize—his almost exactly twice as fast as hers. Never before had she felt such love for anything. Never before had her desire to protect and care for something been so extreme.

“Your Grace, if you would be so kind as to try and feed the child? I would like to see that he develops a good latch. Remember you can direct your mana flow to help the colostrum along until your milk comes in.” A slight suspicion shone through Powaw’s eyes. Perhaps one always examined the firstborn of a grand duke so closely. Then again, perhaps not.

Ahanu was enraptured at the sight of his wife feeding his son. She’s never been lovelier. I must protect them--shield them from politics as long as possible. “How about we name him Huritt, because he’s so adorable?”

“Huritt? Are you mama’s baby Hurrrritt? Ow!” Just then Talo bit down as hard as his baby gums could muster. “Well that was quite a reaction, he must like the name. Welcome to the world baby Huritt."

“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.”