June, 1863



“Mmmm.”

With a soft moan of displeasure, seventeen-year-old Ashley Biersack rose from the bed he’d shared with his twenty-one-year-old husband, Andrew, for just over three years. Ever since his now-deceased father, Logan, had chosen to marry him off to the first man willing to take him because he was ashamed of him for wanting to dress and act like a girl, life had been nothing short of beautiful for him.

He’d married an absolutely dashing young man who came from a very wealthy, self-made family, and had even made sure his mother, Daisy, was safe after she revealed that she was an abused wife. He even shot his father when he came calling, demanding she return home, and wouldn’t leave without her.

Because of this young man, he’d found out that he was nothing short of a medical miracle after finally trusting him to be gentle when he gave him his innocence. Like a woman, he could carry and bear children, despite being a male, and had thus far given Andy three strong, healthy sons: the twins, Kegan and Kelly, and a lone boy, Thorne. The twins were so much a combination of them that they couldn’t tell which parent they resembled more, but they both had their father’s fair skin and piercing icy-blue eyes.

The youngest of the Biersack brood, however, looked like a little replica of Andy, right down to the way his nose scrunched up when he didn’t like something. Unlike his older brothers, he was a mere six months old, and the one whining softly for his mother’s attention. It was this child that had drawn Ash from his slumber during false dawn, likely with a wet diaper and a tummy already grumbling for breakfast. That was okay, though; he’d never once gotten a good night’s sleep since finding out he was carrying Kegan and Kelly, so he didn’t mind being up at this early hour.

“Good morning, Thorne,” he said softly, bending over the cradle his son lay in. He gently grasped him under his arms and lifted him up, holding him against his chest to hug him.

The baby in his arms cooed and giggled, gently patting his cheek in lieu of a tender caress.

“Oooh, you need your diaper changed,” Ash murmured, cupping his hand against his crotch. “Let us get that done, then Mama will feed you.”

Thorne cooed and giggled again, his noises soft since he wasn’t fully awake himself.

“Mmmm.” Andy rolled over in bed to face their little reading nook, apparently having been woken up by his softly-spoken words. “Good morning, my love.”

“Good morning, Andy,” he answered, laying their son down on his lap. “How did you sleep?”

“Wonderfully, until you rose,” his husband yawned.

“Aww. I am sorry I woke you,” the slightly younger man pouted. “I heard Thorne whining and did not want his cries to wake you.”

“It is okay, Ashes,” the young man told him, sitting up. “Best to just wake me by rising than the entire household with his cries. Besides, it is nearly dawn; I would have had to rise for the day soon, anyway.”

Ash turned his attention to pinning the fresh diaper on their youngest son without pricking him as his husband tossed the covers off himself and rose. Once he was upright, he stretched his arms over his head, working any kinks out of his muscles and popping his spine before sighing softly. He couldn’t watch him when he did that because he found the sight quite arousing, and even if they didn’t have the babe in the room, they didn’t have time for a tryst before breakfast like they used to.

The young man headed to the water closet to wash up before getting dressed, no doubt so he wouldn’t wind up aroused himself from watching him feed Thorne. He’d been nursing ever since Kegan’s and Kelly’s births just over two years ago, right up until he went into labor with their youngest.

He winced softly as his son latched onto his swollen, tender nipple, suckling greedily as he drank his fill while he cradled and rocked him. His nipples had been tender for so long now, ever since the beginning of his pregnancy with the twins, that he’d grown accustomed to it and paid it no mind anymore. The only time it truly hurt was when one of the boys would latch on to feed, but it wasn’t an unbearable pain.

“Did you get enough, my son?” Ash asked softly when the babe let go a short while later.

Thorne scrunched up his face like he was going to cry, and he knew that meant he had air in his little belly.

“Give Mama a big-boy burp,” he murmured in his ear, gently patting his back as he held him against his shoulder.

“I am going to rouse Kegan and Kelly,” Andy said, entering their bedchamber long enough to get dressed. “Will you be okay with Thorne until Mama comes to get you for breakfast?”

“I am every morning,” the younger man answered, looking up at his husband.

“All right. I love you more than I can ever scream, Ashes,” his husband said, gently pecking his lips.

“I love you just as much, Andy,” he answered. “Forever and always.”

“Always and forever,” the young man agreed.

Ash watched as his husband left their suite to head down the hall to the nursery that separated it from Amy’s, chuckling as his youngest son burped softly in his ear. Now that he’d been fed and changed, he wrapped him up in his blanket to ensure that he didn’t catch a chill, then laid him back in his cradle so he could start getting dressed.

He gently cupped his lower belly in both hands as he looked in the mirror after relieving himself, sighing softly. He hadn’t told Andy that he missed his monthly the week before, knowing that he would be overly concerned for him if he thought something was wrong. When they’d first found out he could carry and bear children, they hadn’t even known he had that ability; they were able to wait a year between his giving birth to the twins and conceiving their youngest, but it’d been only six months since Thorne’s birth.

Deciding that, like he had at the beginning of his second pregnancy, he wouldn’t say anything until he was sure of his suspicions, he brushed them aside for the moment. He didn’t need anymore stress than he already had by thinking the worst, and he didn’t need his husband going into an early grave from his worry. It was bad enough that his father-in-law had gone into a fairly early grave just over a year ago, although it was from illness.

Moments after entering his bedchamber and checking on his son again, there was a gentle knock at the door. He called out that the person, whom he suspected was his mother, could enter. The door opened and sure enough, it was his mother, Daisy, who’d been asking permission to enter his bedchamber. She told him that she’d been sent by his husband to check on him and Thorne, as well as to help him dress for breakfast. He was busy with the twins, who wouldn’t let him leave the room, or he’d have come to help him dress himself, which made Ash smile.

“He is such a good father to our boys,” he chuckled softly, opening his wardrobe.

“Just as you are a good mother,” Daisy told him. She’d long since stopped pausing before calling him the boys’ mother, as it just felt more natural to think of him that way since he’d carried and borne all three of them.

“Mmm,” the young man hummed, blushing a slight pink at his mother’s words.

“Do not deny it, Ashley,” she chuckled, walking over to embrace him. “You know you are a good mother.”

“As were you,” he told her. “You just went about it differently than I.”

“For that, I still apologize,” his mother answered. “You cannot fathom how I longed to hold you in my arms, comfort you when you were ill or frightened. It is something that despicable creature robbed us both of.”

“Yes, but you protected me from his wrath and abuse,” Ash said sternly. “I would much rather grow up the way I did and be safe than have lots of love and affection, but be beaten and worse every day, if I had to go back and choose for myself. I hold none of that against you like I did three years ago because I know now that you were just doing what you thought best for me, to the best of your abilities.”

Tears welled up in Daisy’s eyes as she finally realized that he truly meant what he said. “Thank you, Ashley. Those words mean the world to me.”

He wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace, pressing her face into the crook of his neck as he shushed her. He’d grown several inches within the last three years so that instead of being relatively the same height, he was so tall that the top of her head was barely level with his shoulder. Granted, he still wasn’t as tall as his husband and would likely still be a few inches shorter when he stopped growing, but he was taller than he had been, to be certain.

When they parted from their embrace, Ash turned back to his wardrobe and started choosing his clothes for the day. He went with his loosest dress, although it didn’t appear very loose on his small frame, a white chemise, petticoat, under drawers, and stockings to match the dress’ lavender color.

Daisy, however, knew that it was his loosest dress since she’d been the one to make it for him. She’d made it around the time he started getting ill while pregnant with Thorne, and since she knew this, she raised a brow in curiosity. He just shrugged his shoulders and said that he wanted to wear lavender, and that was his only clean lavender dress; the rest were downstairs with the maids being laundered.

Knowing that was true, she turned her back while he got his stockings, garters, and under drawers pulled on so he’d have some privacy. Once he told her she could turn around, she helped him get his chemise on and his petticoat pulled over his head, as well, so the chemise was tucked into it. Now that those garments were on, she helped him pull his dress down over his head, starting to fasten the buttons in the back after he got his arms through the sleeves. Once it was on him properly and fully buttoned, he sat down at his vanity to have his hair brushed and pinned.

“You look absolutely beautiful, darling,” Daisy told him, gently kissing his temple.

“Thank you, Mama,” he answered, blushing slightly. He’d started calling her “Mama” about six months after they’d rescued her from Logan, and it was his way of differentiating between her and Amy, whom he still called “Mother”.

“Let us get Thorne and go downstairs for breakfast,” she said. “No doubt Chef has the food ready, and Amy and Andy are likely waiting for us with the boys.”

“I am not certain how much I will eat,” Ash warned her, gently splaying a hand across his belly.

“You are feeling unwell?” his mother asked, concerned.

“A bit,” he answered. “It is like a feeling of unease in the pit of my stomach.”

“Could you be with child again?” she asked.

“I am not certain,” the young man answered, thinking.

“When was your last monthly?” Daisy asked. He knew she would never ask such a thing if it weren’t important to his health, so he didn’t get mad.

“I…cannot remember.” He thought about it and honestly couldn’t. “I have been run ragged by the boys and so busy taking care of Thorne that I did not notice it had not come yet.”

“If it has been a while, you are feeling unwell, and you have been intimate with your husband lately, you may once again be with child,” she told him.

“Well, I had a dream while carrying the twins that we would eventually have five children,” Ash admitted. “We had four sons, although Kegan and Kelly were born last. Our youngest was the only girl.”

“Hmmm. I would not be surprised to find that you are, indeed, with child again.” She bent over and lifted her youngest grandson from his cradle. “I will keep Thorne in my lap, just in case you feel so unwell that you have to make a sudden trip to the water closet, all right?”

“Yes, Mama,” he agreed, following her out of his bedchamber.

The two of them headed downstairs to the smaller dining room, where breakfast was eaten together every morning unless it was brought to their suites or one of them didn’t feel well. As predicted, Andy and Amy were both already seated at the table, a high chair next to both of them. Kegan sat nearest his father since he preferred being around him, what with being the louder, more outgoing twin, while Kelly sat nearer his grandmother. He was the quiet, shy twin, his temperament more similar to his mother’s than his father’s. But that was fine with them, as long as he was safe, healthy, and happy.

Ash sat down on his husband’s right, smiling when he leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek, as his mother sat down on Amy’s left. Neither of those just entering the dining room said a word about the possibility of him carrying another child just yet, and they weren’t going to for a while.

Moments later, the chef and her apprentice, who hadn’t changed in the time the younger man had lived here, walked in from the kitchen with platters of food. There were scrambled eggs, toasted bread, biscuits, grits, and even sausage and bacon. It all looked delicious, but the scent of the meat had the younger man trying to hide his queasiness from those around him so as not to upset or worry them.

Before he could even take his first bite, he found that he was unable to tamp down his nausea and jumped up from his chair, bolting to the water closet down the hall. Startled, it took his husband a minute to follow him, but once he caught him, he found Ash kneeling in front of the receptacle as he emptied his stomach of its contents. Andy knelt down as well, gently pulling what little hair that wasn’t pinned out of the way and gently rubbing his back as he whispered soothing words in his ear.

“Feeling better now, my love?” he asked a short time later.

Still panting too hard to respond verbally, the younger man just nodded his head where it rested against his chest.

“Let me get you some water to rinse the taste out of your mouth,” his husband told him.

Again, he merely nodded as he attempted to slow his breathing.

“Here you go, Ashes,” Andy said, pressing a decanter into his hand.

He quickly rinsed his mouth out before handing it back to the slightly older man.

“Be careful,” he warned, mindful of his trembling as he helped him rise. “There we go.”

Once he was steady enough to walk again, Ash allowed him to help him back to the dining room, where he then refused to touch his food. He was still too queasy to eat now, even though he was hungry and wanted to almost as bad as when he knew he was pregnant. This drew his husband’s attention, but he couldn’t help it.

Concerned about him, Amy told him to go lie down and she’d bring him some crackers when they were done eating, sensing that he didn’t feel well. He nodded his thanks, scared that if he opened his mouth, he’d start spewing again as soon as he did. Ash gently splayed his hand over his belly again as he left the room, trying to quell the nausea still plaguing him, and he knew his husband was highly concerned. He figured that it wouldn’t be long after he finally got settled in bed that he came to check on him.

Sure enough, he was right about that. It was almost as soon as he got settled in their bed, the empty chamber pot sitting on the nightstand beside him within easy reach, that Andy entered their bedchamber. He saw concern in those icy-blue eyes that he loved, and even saw it etching his otherwise fairly carefree features. His husband came over to their bed and gingerly sat on the edge of it next to him, trying not to jostle him too much as he gently brushed his hair back away from his brow. There was going to be no hiding that he was ill from him, regardless of its source.

The young man stayed quiet for a few moments, and Ash sighed softly, allowing his eyes to flutter shut, as he enjoyed his gentle caresses. They were enough to put him to sleep again, despite the slight queasiness still riddling his belly, as well as his hunger. However, his husband’s soft query brought him back from the brink of sleep since he had to concentrate on his words so he could give an intelligent response.

“Are you all right, my love?”

“Mmm. I feel unwell,” he answered softly. He wasn’t a very loud person by nature after the way he grew up, but he was even quieter when he was sick.

“What is amiss?” Andy asked, still concerned about him.

“My tummy feels awful,” the younger man answered, grimacing as he fought off another wave of nausea.

“How long have you felt thus?” His husband was genuinely concerned now.

“Since right after feeding Thorne,” Ash answered. “I have not felt ill until then.”

“So you have not been feeling bad until this morn?”

“No, I have not.”

The young man was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. “Did you have your monthly yet?”

“Mama asked the same thing. I have not, and I cannot remember when I last had it,” he told him.

“Could…could you…be with child? Again?” Andy asked curiously.

“Possibly. It has not been long since we were last intimate.” He’d finally gotten to where he could talk about such things with his husband without blushing.

“And you cannot remember when you last had your monthly, nor have you had one for a while.” His husband looked at him. “You once had a dream about us having five children, the youngest of which was a daughter. I think that dream may just be coming true.”

“Very possibly,” Ash agreed, smiling a bit. “I am not against having more children by any means. I just wish they were spaced out a little more than they are.”

“I agree, my love, but it is all right. We will make the best of this, and brave this storm together,” he said, gently kissing him.

“Forever and always.”

“Always and forever.”

Notes