Morgana: The Mother Of All

Chapter 550: Elves Acquired

"Stop pushing, Mother!"

"What do you mean by stop pushing?!!... Life cannot be created without pushing!."

"We're out of hands, Mother!!" Luna cried, her black hair plastered to her forehead with sweat, her arms aching as she supported a struggling pregnant woman.

Me.

"We need more hands over here!" she yelled, her voice a desperate plea, but it was lost in the chaos.

My temple was a scene of controlled pandemonium. The air was thick with the scent of blood and iron and something else... something primal, the scent of birth and struggle. The floor was slick with fluids, the light from the overhead torches flickering, casting long, dancing shadows that made the room feel like a cavern of nightmares.

The nightmare was me giving birth to elves.

150 dimensional wombs with 3-5 elves each, all coming out at the same time. All. At. The. Same. Time.

My belly was no longer a belly. It was a grotesque, pulsating orb of flesh, a continent of stretched skin and strained muscle, a living prison for the hundreds of lives fighting to be born. I was on my back, on a massive, reinforced bed, my body convulsing, my mind a fog of pleasure and a strange, detached amusement.

I was creating life.

I was creating a race.

It was... divine. 

Another contraction hit me, a wave of pure, unadulterated agony that made my entire body arch, a scream-just faking it-tearing from my throat, a sound of pure, undiluted life.

"Push! Push! PUSH!" Ember yelled, her face a mask of grim determination. She wasn't helping at all, just standing at the side and yelling like some kind of demonic cheerleader.

"Argh!" Luna cried, her grip tightening on my shoulder, her knuckles white. "The baby is coming!... wait... three of them are coming!... from one womb!"

"GET THE BUCKETS!" Ember shouted, a manic glint in her eyes.

Buckets.

They were everywhere. Filled with warm water, with clean cloths, with... herbs. Strange, pungent herbs that Luna had insisted on, claiming they would 'soothe the soul and ease the passage'.

They didn't.

They just made the room smell like a witch's potion shop that had exploded.

"AAAAAAAH!" I screamed, another contraction, another wave of agony, another surge of pure, primal pleasure.

'Yes... this is it... this is the feeling of creation,' I thought, my mind a haze of pain and ecstasy. 'Pushing three at the same time... I'm a monster.'

"THEY'RE CROWNING!" Luna yelled, her voice a mix of panic and awe. "I can see the heads! They're... they're beautiful!"

Cotton and Lily, beside her, were working like they had ten hands each, cleaning and caring for the newborns as they came out, the rest of the bunny girls too. 

...

After more than three hours, the final elf was born.

150 wombs, 780 dark and high elves.

The room was a wreck. A battlefield of birth. The floor was a swamp of fluids, the buckets were overflowing, and the air was thick with the scent of life.

And I... I was a mess.

But I was... happy.

I was a mother.

I looked at the small, wriggling forms in the baskets, their skin pale or gray, their ears pointed, their eyes wide with a confusion that was both innocent and ancient. They were perfect.

"They are... beautiful," I whispered, my voice hoarse, my throat raw from screaming.

"Indeed, they are," a familiar voice spoke from the doorway. It was Arwen, my lovely elf steward, that my sis stole.

I could see the happy look on her face, her eyes sparkling with tears, her hands clasped in front of her, a look of pure, unadulterated joy on her face. 

The only thing that drove Arwen was her love for her clan and people. For her to see new elves being born, it was a dream come true. A miracle.

"They need names, My Lady," she said, her voice a trembling whisper, her gaze fixed on the sleeping infants.

'Names...' I thought, my mind a whirlwind of possibilities. 'I ran out of names a long time ago.'

"Arwen," I said, my voice weak but firm. "You will name them. All of them. It is your right, as their... elder."

Arwen's eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. She looked at me, her face a mask of disbelief and overwhelming gratitude.

"My Lady... I... I don't know what to say," she stammered, her voice choked with emotion. "I... I am... honored."

"Go," I said, a faint smile on my face. "Welcome your new brothers and sisters."

Arwen nodded, her face a mess of tears and snot, and she rushed to the baskets, her hands trembling as she reached out to touch the newborns, her touch gentle, reverent.

'Oh my dear steward, soon you'll push your own babies,' I thought, a wicked grin on my face.

After nursing the babies with my blood, a special treat for the newborns, I had them moved to a special nursery that my temple automatically created to house them.

And then, I slept. 

I slept for a day and a night, a deep, dreamless sleep, my body recovering from the ordeal. I didn't need to, but I wanted to enjoy the afterglow.

When I woke up, I found an angry dragon girl sitting at the edge of the bed.

"Damn, Vicky, you scared the shit out of me," I said, a lazy grin spreading across my face as I stretched on the massive bed. My body still tingled with that delicious post-birth glow, every muscle loose and warm.

Sniff. Sniff.

"Don't you dare say it," I warned, narrowing my eyes as her draconic snout hovered way too close to my ass, nostrils flaring like she was sampling fine wine.

"...You gave birth."

"...No." 

"You smell like milk, blood, and afterbirth."

"That's a very rude sentence." I turned over, glaring at her. "And it's also the smell of divinity and creation."

"Divine my ass. You smell... fertile. Like a field ready for another harvest." Vicky's lips pulled back from her teeth, a low growl rumbling in her chest.

"Pervert," I shot back, but I couldn't hide the laugh bubbling up. "What, are you jealous?"

The growl cut off. Her eyes, which had been narrowed with predatory instinct, widened. The predatory look vanished, replaced by something raw and vulnerable.

"I... I..."

Oh. Oh. I'd hit a nerve.

"Vicky," I said softly, my teasing tone gone. I reached out, my fingers tracing the edge of one of her obsidian horns. "You won the bet fair and square. Go ahead, claim your prize. Tie me up, fuck me silly, whatever floats your scaly boat. Just... give a girl a bath first?"

"Oh, I plan to. But first..." She lunged, pinning me down with one clawed hand on my shoulder, her nose diving straight for my ass like a heat-seeking missile. "Sniff test! Gotta make sure you're ripe enough."

"Vicky! You bitch!" I yelped, half-laughing, half-squirming as her hot breath ghosted over my sensitive skin. But fuck, it felt good. That rough dragon tongue flicked out, lapping at the remnants clinging to my crack, cleaning me with long, deliberate strokes. "Ahh... shit... fine, you win this round too." 

...

"Any news from the humans?" I asked as we finally settled down for a bath in the massive marble tub.

"They sent a scouting party, searching for their lost army," she said from behind me, her claws working shampoo into my hair, her touch surprisingly gentle. "They are scared shitless, though. Probably think the whole area is haunted."

"Of course, they are scared. Ten thousand men disappeared overnight without a single trace of battle. I'd be scared too," I laughed, leaning back into her touch. "What about my new pet? Did she settle in?"

"The red wyvern?" Vicky snorted. "Yeah, she's settled. In your throne room. Curled up on the floor like an oversized lapdog. Refuses to eat anything unless you personally 'bless' it."

"Good," I purred, closing my eyes. "What about the chapel?"

"It's where we put it," Vicky said. "Right in that secret room. Herma's already wrapped it in a cocoon of tentacles and started poking at it. She said it's... 'delightfully arrogant' and 'full of juicy secrets'."

"I'll go say hi later. What about you? Had any fun while I was... busy?"

"Mmmph," she murmured, her arms wrapping around my waist from behind, her chin resting on my shoulder. "Not as much fun as you, apparently. Giving birth to a whole race, you overachieving slut. I just broke a few toys. And your wyvern ate my favorite shoes."

"I'll buy you a new one," I promised, turning my head to nuzzle her cheek. "A better one."

"I know," she said, her voice suddenly quiet. "But it's not about the shoes."

I stopped, my playful mood evaporating. I turned in her arms, facing her fully, the warm water sloshing around us. Her crimson eyes were unreadable, her usual predatory smirk gone.

"What is it about, then?" I asked softly.

She looked away, her gaze fixed on the swirling water, her claws tracing idle patterns on my back.

"Sis, the barrier is close to collapse," Vicky finally said, her voice barely a whisper. "When that happens, everyone will feel your divinity. All the gods, all the demons, everyone."

"I know," I said, my fingers gently stroking her cheek. "And that's fine. Let them feel it. Let them fear it."

"It's not that I'm afraid," she said, her gaze finally meeting mine, her crimson eyes filled with a rare vulnerability. "I'm just... tired of sharing you."

My heart ached at her words. A rare pang of something... soft. I pressed my forehead against hers.

"You never have to share me, Vicky," I whispered, my lips brushing against hers. "You're my other half. My Twin. My shadow. My partner in all this glorious, horny chaos."

She closed her eyes, a soft sigh escaping her lips. She leaned into the kiss, her hands tightening on my back, pulling me closer. The kiss deepened, a slow, tender exploration that spoke volumes, a silent conversation of need and reassurance.

When we finally pulled apart, she was smiling again, her usual predatory glint back in her eyes.

"Good," she purred. "Because I'm not done collecting my prize. You're still my bitch for the next... twenty-three hours and fifty-six minutes." 

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