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Evelyn laid on their bed, rubbing her near third trimester belly as she waited for Caleb to return. Caleb was out collecting firewood for the house, which was more like a hut rather than a house. Winter was approaching fast, and he didn't want to risk her getting too cold. Despite Evelyn instancing that it would be better to use her magic, rather than have him go into the forest during this time.
The afternoon sun was just about to set. He and Flapjack returned just in time, Caleb glistening with sweat from the wood chopping. "Oh just look at you, I told you to just let me-" He interrupted her before Evelyn could lecture him. "Nope. You need to rest. And besides, it's the man's job to provide for his family, isn't it?" Caleb asked, putting emphasis on the man part, poking fun at his old fashioned mindset he once possessed before he met the witch.
She sat up and rolled her eyes, watching him wipe off beads of sweat with his muddy jacket and hanging it up, Flapjack perching on his usual spot and becoming still. "If you get sick, don't come crying to me. I told you, cardigan." The human kicked off his shoes and put away the wood. "Well, if it means that my precious finch is getting the rest she needs, then I'll cry all I want." Evelyn's palismen, Meadow, chirped a hello and pecked at his face welcoming him back. "Heya pretty girl, you miss me?" Caleb gently scritched her forehead, earning a few happy noises from the bird.
Once he was cleaned from sweat and in his sleeping clothes, Caleb plopped into bed next to his finch. He rolled over on his side to face her. "Cardigan, I've been thinking about names. Something earthy, like Rosemary or Hydrangea if it's a girl. Not sure about boy names although.... Any ideas?" He gave her a knowing smile. "I have something." "I mean, anything other than ‘Philip’ or ‘Caleb Jr.’ for the millionth time?" Caleb snorted and looked at her tummy that was covered by her night gown, already imagining teaching his child subjects from his own youth. Like he did for Philip.
He rolled over on his back, looking up at the ceiling of their hut with her. "Hmm.... Well, going along with the earthy theme, Oakley, or perhaps Cotton?" The witch hummed in satisfaction of her cardigan finally suggesting names that weren't just him or his brother's names recycled. "I could see Oakley, and Cotton could be his 'middle name' you humans have."
She glanced at his relaxed form illuminated by the moon of the Isles. His pale golden hair accompanied by his tired baby blue eyes looked stunning in the soft moonlight, and his cheekbones were showing signs of gaining weight he desperately needed. He glanced back at her in return, admiring her deep chestnut hair and her honey yellow eyes that never stopped being secure of herself. She became more beautiful with each day. The two laid there in silence for what felt like only a second, before turning to face each other.
"Elm!" They both squealed in unison, giggling like little kids who discovered how to tell jokes. Evelyn wrapped her arms around Caleb's back, who was putting his forehead against hers. "Elm or Rosemary Clawthorne-Wittebane.... It sounds nice." She gave a small peck on the lips, not wanting this moment between the two to ever end.
"Goodnight, my stubborn cardigan."
"Goodnight, you brash finch."
He never got to meet Elm or Rosemary in person, watching them grow up as a spirit. They had her eyes, and his cheekbones. Evelyn taught them how to carve wood and forage for berries, a promise she made to him before he died. At the hands of his own brother.
The End.