Joden's Story

Joden's Story is a short story set after book fourteen, Barbarian's Rescue, in the Ice Planet Barbarians series. It is part of the Bedtime Stories short story series, which are published on Ruby Dixon's facebook page.

It features Josie, Joha and Joden.

## Story

**JOSIE**

"Joden, time for bed," I call out, rubbing my lower back. It's been a long day and I'm looking forward to relaxing by the fire once the kids are in bed. My little Joha fell asleep shortly after dinner and is curled up in her furs, sucking her thumb. She's such a good kid, and I feel a surge of love looking down at my sweet baby girl. I rub my belly absently as I do. This third one will be a girl too, I think. I'm carrying high again, and I did when I was pregnant with Joha, so I feel confident it's another little female. I love the thought. Not that I don't want another little boy, but right now, one Joden is all I can handle.

To my relief, my son vaults toward his bed and flings himself into his furs. "Story time, Mama!"

"Yep, I'm coming." I touch Joha's sleeping cheek one more time and then waddle over to Joden's bed. I'm only about eight months pregnant - out of the fourteen or so I can expect with a half sa-khui baby - but I feel ungainly early this time. I make it over to Joden's bed and then Haeden, my mate, is right there with my favorite stool, setting it down at the head of Joden's bed so I don't have to get down on the floor. He touches my braid with a small stroke of his hand and supports my back while I sit down, and then moves to the fire, turning the coals to lower the light. Since we live in a one-room hut, bedtime comes early for us and the kids, but I don't mind that. It means I get to spend a few cozy hours snuggled up with my mate, letting him rub my belly or my feet...or other parts of me. I glance over at Haeden, his long braid swaying as he squats near the fire, and think dirty thoughts about him. It's hard not to. I'm mated to the sexiest man in the tribe.

"Mama, story," Joden says, exasperated. He tugs on my boot. "You said you had a new one for me tonight if I was good."

"Did I?" I lean down and adjust Joden's furs, smoothing them over his little body. "I'm not sure how good you were today--"

"I was the best," he assures me. "I only pulled Joha's hair once and she didn't even cry."

Oh lord. "You shouldn't pull Joha's hair at all, baby. She's little."

"She wasn't listening to me," he says, as if that explains it all. On the other side of the hut, Haeden snorts with amusement. We've both noticed that our son seems to have a strong mix of both of our personalities - my love of talking and Haeden's impatience. It gets my Joden into more trouble than he should, sometimes, but I love how clever my son is. He's the smartest kid in the tribe, I think.

Of course, I'm a biased mommy.

"A story," I murmur. "Let's see. I told you Gilligan's Island last week, right?"

"And the Brady Bunch," he agrees. "And Battlestar Galactica. And the Power Rangers. And Pokemons and Sailor Moon."

"Have I covered all of that? My goodness." I'm running out of pop culture stories to tell my story-loving son. "How about a song tonight?"

He wrinkles his little nose. "I'm not sure. You have a funny voice, Mama."

"That is not nice to say to your mama," Haeden calls out in a low tone, but I can hear the amusement he's trying to hide.

"Mama's voice is perfectly fine," I tell him. "How about I sing the song for you and you can learn it and tell the others all about it tomorrow in school?" If there's one thing my Joden loves, it's a story. If there's a second thing he loves, it's a story to share with his friends so he can be the center of attention.

Joden thinks about this for a moment, his little face so serious and so like Haeden's for a moment that my heart squeezes like it does every day. Eventually, he nods. "This is a good idea."

"I'm glad you approve," I tell him, amused. I smooth his baby-fine hair back from his brow, thinking. I decide on nursery rhymes after a moment. Not Humpty Dumpty, because that one gave him nightmares for days. Something benign...and then I have it. "How about Twinkle, Twinkle?"

He settles into his blankets, pulling them up to his chin in his 'I'm listening' pose.

I clear my throat, remembering the 'mama has a funny voice' comment from a moment ago, and begin to sing. "Twinkle, twinkle little star--"

"Mama," he says.

"What, baby?"

"You're cheating."

"I'm what?"

"You're cheating." He gives me a very disappointed frown. "That's the same song as ABCs."

"What?"

"The ABCs song that Ariana taught us. That's the same song. You're making this up, aren't you." His lower lip juts out.

I try to swallow my laughter, glancing over at Haeden. He's still stone-faced, but I can see the barest twitch of his mouth. This kid is his son all right. "I promise you, I'm not making this up. This is a song I learned when I was a little kit. It doesn't matter that it has the same tune as the other one. It's a different song, a very old one." The frown on his face isn't going away, and I want to laugh in his too-serious little face. "Do you want a song or do you want to go straight to bed, my little music critic?"

"I want the song," he decides.

"All right, then." I pause, and begin again. "Twinkle, twinkle, little star--"

"Mama."

Oh lord. "What?"

"I thought you said the lights in the skies are stars?"

"They are."

"And you said your home planet comes from the stars?"

"That's right."

"And stars are suns?"

"Yes?"

Joden gives a frustrated little sigh. "Mama, those aren't little. You told me those are very big because they have to keep the planet warm. They just look little from where we are."

"Let your mother sing, Joden," Haeden commands.

When Joden goes quiet again, I continue. "How I wonder what you are--"

"Mama, you just said they were stars." He gives a little shake of his head, his messy hair flopping about his small horns. "You don't have to wonder."

"That's the lyrics to the song--"

"This song is very silly, Mama."

I can't help but laugh at my critical little son. "I suppose it is. Let mama sing it anyway, okay?"

"Okay." He pauses, then sits up and says, "But I'm not sure I like it."

"Well, we won't sing it again after tonight, then." I lean down and pat his pillow. "Lie back." When he does, I put my hands on my lap and continue. "Twinkle, twinkle, little star. How I wonder what you are. Up above the world so high..." I get to that part without interruptions, and so continue on. "Like a diamond in the sky--"

"What's a diamond?"

Yeah, I knew that was coming. "It's a very pretty rock that looks a bit like ice."

"Why would rocks be in the sky?"

"They're not really in the sky. It's just that the stars sparkle."

"Rocks don't sparkle."

"Some do, Joden."

"No, they don't."

"Yes, they do. Diamonds are so pretty people wear them on their necks and ears."

"People wear rocks?"

"Yes, some do. And there's a rock called pyrite that looks like gold and is super sparkly, and--"

"What's gold?"

"Joden." Haeden's tone is impatient. "You are going to wake Joha up. Let your mother finish the song or you are going to bed without it."

His little brow goes down, and the pout on Joden's face is all me, and hysterical to see. "Yes, Papa."

"All right," I say, thinking. I got so sidetracked by Joden's questions that I've totally forgotten where I am. "Where were we?"

"Rocks on people's necks," my son says helpfully.

"Right."

A short time later - okay, maybe not so short, given that it's Joden - the fire is nothing but coals, the song is finished, my son is asleep, and I'm exhausted from the evening storytime. I get up from my stool, rubbing my belly again, and move toward the furs I share with Haeden. My mate has been moving around the hut as I did bedtime duties with our son, straightening up. He moves and checks on both Joha and Joden before coming to my side and putting his arms around me from behind, resting his chin on my head. His hands cup the bulge of my belly, as if checking on our third child as well.

"Every night," I murmur, both amazed and tired by my son and his analytical little mind. There's nothing Joden loves more than storytime...and dissecting every bit of every story.

"That one is all you," Haeden tells me in a low voice. "He talks just to hear his own voice."

"Oh please. He's totally your son."

My mate makes a sound of disbelief. "How so?"

"Because he doesn't believe a single word I say and questions everything. Gee, I don't know where he gets that from."

Haeden chuckles, and I feel a tired grin spreading over my face. His hands slide up to my breasts, swollen with my latest pregnancy. "I believe some of the things you say," he offers me, thumbs stroking over my nipples. "Like when you tell me to go harder, or faster."

"Shhh," I whisper, scandalized and turned on at the same time. "The kits will hear you."

"They are asleep," he says into my ear, and then nips on it. "Shall we get under the furs and I can rub your tired feet?"

That sounds wonderful...but my feet aren't what I want rubbed at the moment. "As long you promise that's the start and not the finish."

"Always," Haeden tells me. "A good hunter is happy to rub his pregnant mate wherever she likes."

"That's how she keeps getting pregnant," I retort, but I'm ready to crawl into bed with my mate and let him rub anything he wants. "Now, come to bed so I can give you my version of a bedtime story for adults."

"My favorite part of the evening," my handsome mate teases.

Mine, too.

<< The End >>