Posted by Civilian Urg’tohn, Son of the House of Duroc (Klingon Warrior) in Progeny Pronouncements

Posted by Civilian Jal’na of House Duroc (Head of Physical Therapy - Sacred Heart Hospital) in Progeny Pronouncements

Posted by Civilian Urg’tohn, Son of the House of Duroc (Klingon Warrior) in Progeny Pronouncements
Posted by… suppressed (19) by the Post Ghost! 👻
Jal’na had invited her parents to dinner after Urg left the hospital. She’d informed Kishet of the change. Not that anything special needed to be made, but they would be dining in private. Then Jal’na went about her day after the final meeting with Korczak and the Tenkillers. Though she was sure to inform Urg that they would be attending whatever dinner General Tenkiller had in mind the next night.

The additional guards that Urg found necessary were already in place by the time she left Korczak’s office. She felt like she was smothering. She couldn’t breathe without sharing the same air with one of them it felt like. She ordered them to leave. It left them in a conundrum because they were to consider her orders as Urg’s orders. But his orders were to not leave her alone no matter what she said. Either way, they would be in the poor graces of someone.

The additional security also meant an extra slider where ever she went. She decided to walk rather than take a convoy everywhere. That was until they all got out and walked with her. She left a dent in the slider as she got in. Only G’enx seemed amused by his Lady’s temper, but he was wise enough not to let it show.

By the time she returned to the embassy grounds, however, she was in a very foul mood. She was cursing anything and everything that happened to cross her mind or her path a few things were even left broken in her wake. They were used to seeing Lord Duroc angry and in a temper, but this was most unlike Lady Duroc and she was given ample space.

Jal’na, Lady Duroc

Urg’s comms chirped and Shiv’s voice came through. =/\=Incoming. The Lady Jal’na looks pissed.=/\= Urg sighed heavily, but was thankful he had pulled Shiv from the Kvaar’ton to keep a stealthy watch over his mate. He stood up and faced the door, bracing himself for the storm that was his pregnant wife. Pregnant… the thought made him smile, and then he literally braced himself for her arrival.

Urg, Lord Duroc

The door opened rather calmly. Jal’na, on the other hand, looked like some mythical avenging warrior who was facing the petaQ that murdered her mate with a dagger in the back. She looked magnificant, from her flashing eyes, to her clenched fists, to the yell the echoed through the room as she slammed the door hard enough to strain the hinges. “I cannot work for all the people around me! I will NOT hide in here for duration like a vapid weak constitutioned human from the dark ages! And if G’enx smiles behind my back one more time I will rip the lips off his face.” Which no one would believe. If G’enx was a child, Jal’na would have adopted him. He was a bright and curious young man with a stout heart. She treated him like a favored nephew.

She shoved one of the heavy chairs by the fire across the room hard enough to move the table a couple of inches.

Jal’na, Lady Duroc

Urg’s eyes flared and he growled low and hungrily. “Wife… if you were not pregnant now, in the next few hours you would be.” he said. A large, scarred hand fell on the edge of the table and he shoved the heavy wooden table across rhe floor and against the door. He walked up to her and pressed his body against hers. He grasped her chin and looked into her eyes, the fires there burning as bright as ever. “I love you, Jal’na. And I always will…” and he crushed his lips to hers.

Urg, Lord Duroc

Jal’na growled a defiant challenge at him even through the hungry crush of their mouths. Her hand gripped the wrist of his hand gripping her chin. Her nails bit into the skin, leaving new scars. She pressed back against him, her husband, the father of her child, and her hearts thudded loudly in rhythm to his.

Absolutely no furniture survived, and that was mostly the fault of Jal’na’s volatile temper. She would remember to still be irriated over the guards later. For the time being, her temper was appeased. That was irritating. She may have to be locked up with Urg if anyone was to survive her pregnancy.

Jal’na, Lady Duroc

Urg lay on his back in the ruins of their bed and laughed loudly. “I told you…” he said between laughs. The comm terminal, hanging from the horn chandelier, beeped and a voice said “Lord and Lady Duroc. My Lady, your parents have arrived.” Urg looked at Jal’na and said “If you go to dinner nakedness, we won’t have to explain how you got pregnant.” and he laughed again.

Urg, Lord Duroc

Jal’na snorted dismissively. “They have two children. They know how it happens.” She stood and looked at the ruins of the bed. “You told me that bed would survive anything.” The sight of her husband and how the destruction occured made her look at him hungrily. Maybe they could say some emergency came up and stay there.

“I never anticipated you becoming as mad as I, wife.” Urg said with a grin.

But the reason for their visit was far too joyous to be put off. A hand rested lightly over her womb as she stared at him. Then she turned began to dress.

Jal’na, Lady Duroc

Urg made a point not to watch her get dressed; if he did, they would never be able to leave the room. As he finished getting ready, he walked up behind Jal’na and put his hands on her stomach. “The first time I saw you, I thought you were a vision from Kvaar’ton and that you could never be more beautiful. But now I see you, carrying our son, and I know I was wrong.”

Urg, Lord Duroc

“And people find the idea of Klingon poetry absurd. You have the heart of a poet, Husband.” Jal’na’s hands rested over his and for a moment her body rested back against his. “My hearts had never beat as they did when I saw you.” She turned and looked up at him. “I will always love you, Urg.”

Jal’na, Lady Duroc

He kissed her, surprisingly gently for him, and then said “Come. We will tell your parents the good news , and then feast. Our son is already growing hungry.” He walked with her out of their room and found one of the Embassy staff. “We need new furniture. Go with deuterium. It will save us funds in the long run.”

The banquet hall had been set with a single table for four. Long on either side, Urg’s chair was at rhe head and Jal’na opposite him. Seated at the table already were Jal’na’s parents Ch’rath and Gayra. Both stood as Urg and Jal’na entered, and both bowed as they approached the table. Urg grunted and said “There is no need for such formalities. You are here as family, not guests. Please, sit.”

“We are always happy to join you. Your builders are very skilled. Their assistance in rebuilding our home was appreciated,” Ch’rath said.

As everyone took their seat, a steward poured four tankards of bloodwine and set them on the table. Fortunately for Jal’na, Klingon fetuses were immune to the dangers posed by their mother’s consuming alcohol while pregnant. Many believed that a woman who drank copious amounts of blood wine while pregnant would give birth to a great Warrior. That belief was also the source of many jokes that pregnant Klingon women getting smashed was the primary reason for the Klingon temperament. Jokes that were, of course, never made in the presence of said Klingon women.

Urg, Lord Duroc

Jal’na lifted her cup and drank. Of course no one would say it to her, but she had heard it said of others. She was aware it would be said of her.

Gayra was no fool. She noticed the way people were watching her daughter with curiosity and caution. Nor the extra light in Urg’tohn’s eyes as he looked at Jal’na. She raised her glass, “Where do you get your blood wine Urg’tohn? It is always quite strong with an excellent musk.”

Jal’na, Lady Duroc

“It is Urg to you.” Urg said flatly. “House Duroc took ownership of the traitor’s distillery when we were reinstated. We were fortunate that one of our House is a Saurian who was a Master Distiller of that species’ brandy. He took over and now our House bloodwine is the object of much envy and desire across the Empire and beyond.” He took a long drink, both form being very thirsty and also to ensure he was ready for Jal’na’s next rage outburst. He set the tankard down and looked at Jal’na. “Now? Or later?” he asked.

Lord Duroc

Something Urg said amused Jal’na greatly. He could insist her mother call him Urg, but it was a particular quirk of her mother’s that she never shortened people’s names, not even of children. She wasn’t sure if her mother did it on purpose or it was just the way she was. Urg would forever be reminding her mother. Of course no one had ever insisted before.

Now was as good as later, but before she answered the door opened and several platters were brought in and set on the table. Roasted targ, pipius claw, gagh, and pesto chicken. The door closed and Jal’na motioned to Urg with her goblet. “Now if you would, Urg.” And she drank deeply.

Jal’na, Lady Duroc

Urg looked at her and shrugged. He thought she was going to be the one to tell them, but he lifted his tankard , took a drink, and then looked at Jal’na’s parents. “Jal’na is pregnant. We are going to have a son.” he said flatly but with a hint of much deeper emotions and then waited for her parents reactions.

Urg, Lord Duroc

He was so excited for it, and he said his brothers already knew without telling them. Urg had asked her what it was like to have parents. One of those things was getting to share good news. She was more than pleased to let him have the right to make that announcement.

Gayra roared with laughter and delight, “Qapla’! This is wonderful.” She elbowed her husband, “I win, Ch’rath. You must pay up.” Her father laughed, “When we return home.” Gayra stood and went over to hug her daughter. “Now I know why everyone looks timid of you. You have the temper already. It will pass, until the child is old enough to think he is independent. Then it will return.” Her mother looked greatly amused. Jal’na was not.

Ch’rath stood and clapped Urg in the shoulder, gripping his hand. “Your life shall never be the same, and it will be glorious beyond your imaginings.” He raised his cup, “A toast, to our children and their child, and the glory of the future of House Duroc.” He drank deeply. “Drink up Jal’na,” and he laughed.

Jal’na, Lady Duroc

Urg refilled and raised his cup. “To the futire… and to our son.” hebsaid, his eyes never coming off of Jal’na. As he raised his drink to his lips, he grinned at her; so much so small rivulets of wins flowed from the corner of his mouth and wetted his beard. He drained his cup and then said “Do you want to tell anyone else before we announce it to the House?”

Urg, Lord Duroc

Jal’na’s gaze was riveted on Urg as she drained her cup, her eyes followed the small rivulets of his wine, and she wondered if the could skip the meal.

His question caused glances between his wife and her parents. She set her cup down. “D’amash and Kliw. Especially Kliw. I do not want her to find out from someone else.”

“They will be happy for you,” her father said. Jal’na nodded, “I have no doubt they will, but their struggle to have a child weighs on them. I would not slight Kliw by having someone else inform her.” She looked at Urg. “I will see them tomorrow and then tomorrow night we can make the announcement.”

Jal’na, Lady Duroc

Urg took another drink. “Do you really want to give yourself another day of rage without those around you knowing what is going on?” and he grinned at her.

Urg, Lord Duroc

“They can go uninformed until he arrives! It’s none of their concern.” She snarled at him, slammed her cup down for emphasis, and stabbed the meat off the tray hard enough to make everything rattle.

Gayra eyed her daughter, tascinates by the open display of rage. Ch’rath wisely hid his laughter with large gulps of blood wine.

Jal’na, Lady Duroc

Urg shrugged. “As you wish.” was all he said. He looked at Ch’rath and said “Your home. It has been moved to your satisfaction, then?”

Urg, Lord Duroc

Jal’na’s gaze narrowed at him, that was too easy. Her mother distracted her with questions about the odd poultry dish.

Ch’rath nodded. “Yes it was. I am loathe to admit that I am old, so I will only say that the assistance allow the house to be built much faster than I could have on my own. Your House is filled with many of great skill. I enjoyed working with the younger ones.”

Jal’na, Lady Duroc

Urg half chuckled and half grunted. “We do have many of great and varied skill. It is part of what makes us strong. It is that strength that many look down on us for.” He waved a massive hand dismissively. “Thry are stuck in the old ways. Still believe that Klingons do everything better than anyone else. It’s simply not true. We excel in many ways… but House Duroc embraces the diversity present in the life of galaxy. We value strength, but we do not care what one’s skin looks like. Or if you have ridges or antennae. If you have a skill or knowledge valuable to making our House stronger… better… than you are welcome.” He looked at Jal’na. “And that is why our son will be a true leader. He will be raised along side individuals from all species. That will let him learn much that the other Houses keep hidden from their whelps.”

Urg, Lord Duroc

“Such acquaintances have certainly been a boon to my daughter. I have watched her grow very wise from her acquaintances on Oed.” He glanced at his daughter and then leaned toward Urg, “Though that tiny bald-headed woman sometimes makes me wonder of my daughter’s judgement.”

Gayra smiled at her daughter. “All men think they will have sons. Your father thought you would be a boy, too.” Jal’na chuckled but there was an edge to her look. A conviction, “It is a son. He will just be the first of our children.” She looked at her mother intently. Did she know of Du’Clis and House Ho’l? If so why hadn’t she ever spoken of it? Jal’na dismissed the idea of asking as unmitigated rage over took her. A rage that had nothing to do with being pregnant. But a self-destructive rage and frustration Jal’na had carried all her life. One that had driven her to leave her home, her family, and her House behind so as to stop the shame she constantly brought to them all. Klingon society did not account for differences. It was an impotent worthless fire.

It was an old bitter unwanted companion. She could not silence it, but she could at least ignore it. “This is based on an Earth dish. The bird is usually thoroughly cooked; it is not safe to consume raw. But Kishet has added the sauce to ‘uSgheb. It is one of my particular favorites that she makes.” Jal’na placed some on her plate and her mother’s.

Jal’na, Lady Duroc