She freezes up

And Linne, sensing that she's got the initiative, puts her arms around Doe's waist, cradling her lower belly. Linne rubs her face against Doe's shoulder blades and the nape of her neck and whispers, "I love her so much, I want her near me all the time."

From below you see the paralyzed fear on Doe's face warring with happiness. It's so rare to see her at a loss. She always favors action over any kind of indecision. You reach up and rub that same belly so that she looks down. You smile and say, "I don't think there are any more important exercises this year anyway." Just enough of an excuse, you hope.

"Well, I mean..." Doe starts saying, still very unsure.

"Oh please?" asks Linne with enough desperation and love to break any villain's heart.

"Yeah, um, if we're not needed anyway," Doe mumbles. "But I'm not staying in bed all the time or anything. I've got to stay in shape, even if that shape is a damn ball."

Linne laughs and somehow manages to hug your lamia even closer.

"And I'm a useless cook. And my mom always yelled at me for how terrible my sewing is. And... stop ticking me!" But it's no use. You and Linne collaborate and manage to find all the best spots, including some grooves between Doe's scales that are more sensitive. Neither of you is satisfied until your stubborn wife is giggling and squirming on the bed.

"You're gonna get the best food at home," says Linne. "Lots of energy for that exercise."

"Crazy cat-wife," Doe mutters, but she also scratches Linne's ears until she draws a big, low purr out of her. "Once I've had three you're getting pregnant right away, you hear me?"

"Oh yes!"

"You're going to sing a different tune then, sweetheart," Doe threatens. "I'm terrible with kids too. I'll dump all three of mine on you, you'll be drowning in little lamia tears and poop and molted skins."

"Okay," Linne says, snuggling up to Doe and closing her eyes.

"See, you're not even listening. I said I'm going to leave you holding the bag and you don't even care."

"I don't. I can't wait to meet all of them," Linne tells her. And Linne's hands just start roaming all over Doe's belly again, like they've got a mind of their own.

Doe boops Linne on the nose and sighs. "You're broken or something," she says, but she's smiling now, really honestly smiling like she hasn't in a while.

"Let us be broken together then," you tell them. "A strange family with a nearly illegal kind of marriage, shunned by most people but somehow also nobility. But in spite of that we're going to raise some great kids."

"Fuck, don't you make me cry," Doe says, but the waterworks have already started. When she feels droplets slide down her cheeks she shouts, "Bastard! That's taking advantage of a pregnant woman."

"I thought the pregnancy wasn't affecting you?"

"Oh! Right, okay buddy. Maybe one baby is all you're getting. Cause I'm either going to rip it off or drain you till your balls turn inside out."

You give her a kiss, which you're glad to see she reciprocates. In fact, with her much larger lungs she nearly sucks all the air out of you. "I'm a mage, so I could probably fix that."

"Don't fight," Linne warns you both, "and don't get rough. We don't want to wake the baby." Almost as soon as she says it there's a hefty thump from inside Doe's tummy. It's not the first time your daughter has moved, but it's the strongest tail slap yet. All three of you look to that smooth dome of warm flesh, all three of you rest a hand on Doe's bump and in your own ways all three of you say hello to your daughter.