Chapter Forty-Two- The Mother I Might Become

Aria’s POV

I had never seen the garden look so beautiful.

White canopies stood between the flowering trees, their delicate curtains in the morning breeze. Round tables covered with cream-colored cloths were arranged beneath them, each decorated with fresh flowers and trays of pastries. There were little cakes dusted with sugar, fruits, meat pies, sausage rolls, and several varieties of small chops prepared by the packhouse cooks.

A long table had been reserved for tea, fruit juice, and other refreshments. Near the center of the garden, a small platform had been arranged for our guest speaker, with comfortable chairs placed around it for the women who would attend.

I stood at the garden entrance, studying the arrangement for what felt like the hundredth time.

“Do you think we have enough chairs?” I asked.

Martha, standing beside me, gave me a look.

“Aria, we have enough chairs for twice the number of women you invited.”

“What about the refreshments?” I looked worried.

“There is enough food to feed the entire packhouse.” She beamed.

I glanced toward the tables. “And the flowers?”

“We Still have enough flowers.” She burst out laughing.

I couldn’t help smiling, although I was still nervous.

“This is important, Martha.” I frowned at her teasing laughter.

“I know it is.”

“No, you don’t understand.” I gestured toward the garden. “We’ve never held a meeting like this before. The women are used to gathering in the hall, sitting on uncomfortable benches while someone speaks at them for an hour before sending them home. I wanted this to be different.”

“And you have made it different.” She said proudly.

I looked around again.

The idea had come to me several days earlier when I was reviewing the Luna’s records. I had discovered that while Ironcrest had a well-organized system for training warriors, managing trade, and preparing for winter, there was very little dedicated to supporting women through pregnancy and early motherhood.

The pack had midwives, healers, and experienced nursing mothers, of course. Women helped one another whenever they could. But there was no regular gathering where they could ask questions, learn from one another, or receive guidance from someone trained to care for them.

I wanted to change that.

Pregnancy was not something that should be discussed only when a woman was already struggling. Young females should have the opportunity to learn about their bodies before they became mothers. Pregnant women should know how to care for themselves, and nursing mothers should have a place to discuss the challenges they faced after childbirth.

Most importantly, they should feel comfortable asking questions without being embarrassed or judged.

That was why I had invited pregnant mothers, nursing mothers, midwives, and young women who hoped to become mothers someday.

that was why I had insisted that the gathering should feel less like a formal meeting and more like a tea party.

“I just want them to enjoy themselves,” I explained. “I want them to feel that the Luna’s garden belongs to them, too.”

Martha’s teasing expression softened. “Do you know how much work you’ve put into this?”

I shrugged. “Some.”

“Some?” She raised her eyebrows. “You have spent the last four days planning everything. You personally reviewed the invitations, questioned the cooks about the refreshments, asked the gardeners to arrange the flowers, and insisted that every woman should have a comfortable seat. Yesterday, you nearly sent the kitchen into chaos because you wanted three different kinds of pastries.”

“They were only two kinds before I made the change.” I shrugged.

“Exactly.” Martha reached over and squeezed my hand.

“You should be proud of yourself, Aria. You aren’t simply wearing the Luna’s title anymore. You’re thinking about the women of this pack and what they need. You’re giving them something they have never had before.”

Her words warmed me more than I expected.

For so long, I had thought of my position as something I needed to survive. I had returned to Ironcrest carrying guilt over my father’s death, regret over my choices, and uncertainty about the man I had married.

Becoming Luna had felt like another responsibility placed on my shoulders.

But lately, I had begun to understand that the title could be more than a burden.

It could be an opportunity. An opportunity to make things better for people who had never been given a reason to expect better.

“Thank you,” I said softly.

Martha smiled. “Now, stop worrying about the chairs and prepare to welcome your guests.”

As if summoned by her words, the first group of women appeared along the garden path.

I straightened immediately.

They arrived in twos and threes, some accompanied by their mates, others walking with friends or relatives. Several pregnant women rested their hands on their rounded bellies as they approached, while nursing mothers carried babies wrapped in soft blankets.

The younger females came in bright dresses, looking curious and slightly uncertain.

I stepped forward to welcome them.

“Good morning! I’m glad you could all come.”

“Good morning, Luna,” they replied.

“Please, don’t stand on ceremony today.” I smiled. “This is meant to be a comfortable gathering. Find a seat, have something to eat, and enjoy yourselves. We will begin shortly.”

A young pregnant woman glanced toward the tables.

“All this food is for us?”

“Of course.” I smiled.

Her eyes widened with delight. “I have never attended a meeting like this before.”

“Neither have I,” I admitted. “That is why I wanted us to try something new.”

A few women laughed, and the atmosphere immediately became less formal.

I watched as they settled around the tables, greeting old friends and making room for those who arrived later. Some went straight for the pastries, while others poured themselves tea or fruit juice.

The garden gradually filled with conversation.

One woman discussed the difficulty of sleeping comfortably during the later months of pregnancy. Another shared a story about how her husband had tried to prepare a meal for her and nearly burned down their kitchen.

The laughter that followed made me smile.

This was exactly what I had wanted.

For once, the women of Ironcrest were not gathered because something had gone wrong. They were here to learn, share their experiences, and enjoy one another’s company.

I was still watching them when a familiar voice called my attention.

“Luna Aria?”

I turned to see Laura approaching along the path.

Laura was Ironcrest’s senior pack midwife, a woman in her early fifties with warm brown eyes and silver beginning to show in her dark hair. She had delivered more pups than I could count and was known throughout the pack for her patience.

She carried a leather bag over one shoulder and wore a modest blue dress beneath a light shawl.

I hurried forward to greet her. “Laura! I’m so glad you could come.”

She smiled warmly. “I wouldn’t miss it. Martha told me how much effort you’ve put into organizing this gathering.”

I glanced at Martha, who looked far too pleased with herself.

“I hope everything is to your liking.”

Laura looked around the garden, taking in the tables, flowers, refreshments, and comfortable seating.

“My dear, this is wonderful. The women will appreciate it.”

“That is what I hope.” I said proudly.

She touched my arm affectionately.

“And I hope you know that this is an excellent idea. We spend so much time caring for individual mothers that we sometimes forget the value of bringing them together. A woman can learn from a midwife, but she can also learn from another woman who has experienced the same fears and challenges.”

I smiled. “That is exactly what I wanted.”

“Then let us begin.” She said, as I ushered her further into the garden.

***********

By the time Laura took her place on the small platform, nearly every seat was occupied.

I sat near the front with Martha, pleased to see how many women had come. Even a few who had initially declined their invitations had changed their minds after hearing about the gathering.

Laura began by welcoming everyone and thanking me for arranging the meeting.

Then she moved straight into the discussion.

“Pregnancy is a natural part of life,” she said, “but that does not mean every woman experiences it in the same way. Some women feel strong and energetic for most of their pregnancy. Others experience nausea, fatigue, back pain, and many other discomforts. Neither experience makes a woman better or worse than another.”

Several women nodded.

“One of the first things I want every expectant mother to understand is that she must listen to her body. If you are tired, rest. If you feel unwell, speak to your midwife or healer. Do not assume that every discomfort is something you must endure in silence simply because other women have experienced pregnancy before you.”

I watched the women closely.

Some leaned forward in their seats, listening intently. Others exchanged glances, as though Laura had just put words to experiences they had never felt comfortable discussing.

Laura continued.

“Your body is doing important work. It needs nourishment, rest, and care. You should eat a balanced variety of foods, including vegetables, fruits, grains, and sources of protein. Meat, fish, eggs, beans, and other nutritious foods can help support your body’s needs, provided they are prepared safely and suit your individual circumstances.”

She paused to take a sip of water.

“Drink enough water throughout the day, and do not skip meals simply because you feel too busy. If nausea makes eating difficult, speak to your midwife about ways to manage it. And remember that pregnancy is not the time to follow every rumor you hear about what an expectant mother should or should not eat.”

A ripple of laughter moved through the gathering.

An older nursing mother raised her hand.

“What about cravings? My daughter-in-law says she cannot stop craving sweet pastries.”

Several women laughed again.

Laura smiled.

“Cravings are common, but they should not replace balanced meals. Enjoy a treat when appropriate, but make sure you are nourishing yourself as well. And if you find yourself craving things that are not food, tell your healer. That is something you should never ignore.”

The women nodded.

I was impressed by how easily Laura handled the questions. She never made anyone feel foolish, and she explained complicated matters in a way that everyone could understand.

She also spoke about the importance of rest.

“Pregnancy is not an illness, but it places additional demands on the body. Gentle movement can be helpful for many women, depending on their health and stage of pregnancy. Walking, stretching, and other suitable activities may help them remain comfortable. But strenuous work, heavy lifting, and activities that leave you exhausted should be discussed with your healer.”

She glanced around the garden.

“And please, stop believing that a good mother is one who works until she can no longer stand. Rest is not laziness. Asking for help is not weakness.”

That statement earned a round of applause. I found myself clapping harder than anyone.

Perhaps it was because I had seen women in Ironcrest push themselves beyond their limits, believing they had to prove their strength by doing everything alone. Perhaps it was because I understood what it meant to carry expectations that felt too heavy.

Whatever the reason, Laura’s words stayed with me.

She went on to discuss emotional well-being, explaining that anxiety and exhaustion deserved attention just as much as physical discomfort.

“A pregnant woman needs support,” she said. “She needs people who will listen when she is frightened, help when she is tired, and show patience when her emotions feel difficult to manage. She should not be mocked for crying, dismissed for worrying, or expected to carry every burden simply because she is going to become a mother.”

I glanced around the garden.

A young woman sitting near the back wiped at the corner of her eye. Beside her, an older woman slipped an arm around her shoulders.

The sight touched me. This was more than a meeting about pregnancy.

It was a reminder that no woman should have to navigate the most vulnerable moments of her life alone.

Laura invited the women to ask questions, and the discussion became livelier.

One pregnant mother asked whether she could continue helping in the family business. Another wanted to know how soon she could return to her usual activities after giving birth.

A nursing mother asked about feeding difficulties, and Laura patiently explained the importance of seeking help when feeding became painful or the baby struggled to feed.

She reminded them that mothers needed care after childbirth, too.

“Your attention will naturally turn toward your newborn,” she said, “but please do not forget yourselves. Your bodies need time to recover. If you experience severe pain, heavy bleeding, fever, or anything that concerns you, seek help promptly. Do not wait because you think you should be able to manage on your own.”

I made a mental note to speak with Laura about arranging regular consultations for mothers who needed them.

If this gathering was successful, I wanted it to become more than a one-time event.

I wanted it to be the beginning of something lasting.

Then one of the younger females, a shy girl named Nina, raised her hand.

“May I ask something?”

“Of course,” Laura answered.

Nina hesitated, glancing at the other women.

“I am not pregnant yet, but I hope to have pups someday. Is there anything I should be doing now to prepare?”

Laura’s smile grew.

“That is an excellent question. You can begin by learning about your health, maintaining balanced habits, and becoming familiar with the care available to you. You should never feel pressured to become a mother before you are ready. And when the time comes, you should have the information and support you need to make informed decisions.”

I watched Nina relax.

It mattered to me that young women heard those words before anyone began telling them what their lives were supposed to look like.

Laura continued speaking, answering more questions before moving to a subject that caused several women to exchange amused glances.

“Now,” she said, “we should discuss something that many couples are too embarrassed to ask about.”

The women leaned forward.

“Intimacy during pregnancy.”

A few giggles broke out around the tables.

Laura waited patiently for the laughter to settle.

“Many healthy pregnancies allow couples to remain intimate, but every pregnancy is different. Whether intimacy is appropriate depends on the mother’s health, the stage of pregnancy, and any complications or medical advice she has received. If there is bleeding, pain, a risk of premature labor, or another concern, the couple should speak to their healthcare provider before continuing.”

She paused to make sure everyone was listening.

“Communication is essential. A woman’s comfort matters. Her partner should never assume that because she agreed to intimacy before pregnancy, she will always feel comfortable with it during pregnancy. Her body is changing, and what feels comfortable may change as well.”

I found myself listening more intently.

Laura went on to explain that couples could discuss different positions that might reduce pressure on the abdomen as pregnancy progressed. Side-lying positions, for example, could be more comfortable for some women, while other positions might need to be avoided if they caused discomfort.

“There is no single position that works for every couple,” she explained. “The important thing is to avoid pressure on the abdomen, communicate openly, and stop if anything hurts or feels wrong. Your midwife or healer can offer advice suited to your circumstances.”

The women nodded, and a few began whispering to one another.

Laura smiled.

“There is no shame in asking these questions. Intimacy is part of many couples’ lives, and pregnancy does not mean you must remain silent about your concerns. Your partner should be willing to listen, learn, and help you feel comfortable.”

I looked down at my hands. I wasn’t pregnant. I wasn’t even certain when I would be ready to try for a child.

But I couldn’t help thinking about Kael. About our conversation beneath the moonlight and the way he had looked at me when I told him I was willing to consider having a pup when I was in heat.

He had been so happy.

I had seen it in his eyes, even though he tried to hide the full extent of his excitement.

For the first time, the thought of having a child with him didn’t feel entirely frightening.

It still made me nervous. I still had questions about what kind of mother I would become and whether our marriage would be strong enough to welcome a child.

But the thought no longer filled me with the same dread.

Perhaps that was a beginning, too.

************

The gathering continued well into the afternoon.

After Laura finished her presentation, the women enjoyed the refreshments while sharing stories and asking her additional questions. Some discussed their experiences with morning sickness, while others exchanged advice about preparing their homes for newborn pups.

There were moments of laughter, moments of serious conversation, and moments when women who had barely known one another before the gathering discovered how much they had in common.

I moved between the tables, making sure everyone had enough to eat and drink.

At one point, a pregnant mother named Eliza caught my hand.

“Luna, I wanted to thank you.”

I smiled. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m happy you came.”

“No, I mean it.” Her eyes shone. “I have been worried about my pregnancy for weeks. My mate works long hours, and sometimes I feel as though I am bothering him whenever I ask questions. Hearing Laura today has helped me understand that I should speak up when I need support.”

Her words made me pause.

“Your needs are important, Eliza. You don’t have to pretend everything is fine when it isn’t.”

She nodded, squeezing my hand.

“Thank you for giving us a place to talk about these things.”

Another woman joined us, carrying her baby against her shoulder.

“I hope you arrange another gathering soon, Luna. I would love to bring my sister next time.”

“That would be wonderful,” I told her. “I was hoping we could make this a regular event.”

Her face brightened. “Really?”

“Yes. We can discuss what else the women would like to learn about and plan future gatherings around those needs.”

By the time the last refreshments had been served, I was exhausted.

My feet ached from walking around the garden, and my cheeks hurt from smiling. Yet I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt so satisfied with something I had done.

When the women began to leave, several stopped to thank me personally.

Some bowed. Others hugged me. One young female promised to tell her friends about the next gathering.

I stood at the garden entrance, watching them leave the packhouse in small groups, their voices rising and falling along the path.

Martha came to stand beside me.

“Well?” she asked.

I turned toward her with a smile. “Well, what?”

“Are you still worried about the chairs?”

I laughed. “No. Definitely not.”

She grinned. “I told you everything would go well.”

I watched a young mother adjust the blanket around her baby while her mate carried the basket beside her. A little farther away, two pregnant women walked together, talking animatedly about something Laura had explained.

There was something beautiful about the sight.

These women were returning to their homes with more than the refreshments they had enjoyed. They were carrying new knowledge, reassurance, and perhaps a little more confidence in themselves.

And I had helped make that possible.

For the first time since becoming Luna, I felt that I had found something that belonged entirely to me because I had inherited it from my father or because the elders had assigned it to me, but because I had chosen to do it.

I had chosen to care, to listen, and I wanted to do more.

My gaze followed the young mother and her mate until they disappeared beyond the gate.

A strange warmth spread through my chest.

I imagined a small pup running through the garden, laughing as I chased after them. I imagined tiny hands reaching for mine, sleepy eyes looking up at me, and a little voice calling me Mother.

The image was so vivid that I caught my breath.

For so long, motherhood had seemed like a responsibility waiting to be forced upon me. It had been discussed in terms of bloodlines, heirs, and the expectations of the elders.

But watching those women today had made me see another side of it.

Motherhood could be a choice. It could be love, patience, and the privilege of helping another life grow.

It could be something I wanted for myself, rather than something I gave away to satisfy someone else.

I placed a hand over my stomach, smiling faintly at the thought.

Perhaps I was not ready yet or I still needed time to understand my marriage, to grow closer to Kael, and to become comfortable with the future we might share.

But for the first time, I could imagine that future without immediately wanting to run from it.

I turned to Martha. "I think I would like to be a mother someday."

Her face softened. "Someday?"

I nodded, my smile widening "Someday."

She slipped her arm through mine.

"And when that day comes, you will be a wonderful mother."

I hoped she was right.

As we walked back into the packhouse, I found myself thinking of Kael and the promise we had made beneath the moonlight.

For the first time, the idea of having his child no longer felt like a duty I was being asked to perform.

It felt like a possibility I might one day choose and that difference meant everything.