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For once, Koros found himself distracted from his work. It didn’t help that his favorite test subject hadn’t been able to provide him with any samples or full transformations lately - Soter was heavily pregnant and unable to help. Frankly the fact that Soter had any ability to transform at the moment was a monumental study in and of itself, but Koros knew it was more important to take care of him than examine him, at least for now.
Soter hadn’t interrupted his report writing in nearly three bells. Clearly, something was wrong.
Koros painstakingly removed himself from his desk, exiting his office to return to the living space of their apartment. There was no Soter napping on the couch, there was no Soter messing around in the kitchen, there was no Soter sunning in the chairs by the windows.
“Soter?”
Koros continued his search when he got no reply, making a beeline for the nursery they had set up - Soter had set up, really, even though Koros had done much of the physical labor. Sure enough, Koros found Soter sitting on the floor, drawer of baby clothing and robes dumped out next to him as he fiddled with the supplies for their changing table.
“Soter.”
This time the name got a reaction, Soter’s head whipping up to stare at Koros with wide white eyes. A hint of tears had already begun forming, Soter’s cheeks pink with frustration, exasperation, or both.
“It’s not… it isn’t right.”
Koros of two weeks ago would have simply stated that this was precisely how Soter had asked him to set the room up, confused and unprepared for the way Soter tearfully argued back that things just weren’t quite right.
Koros of one week ago would have asked for Caeneus to come over so that they might be the one to explain to their little brother how everything was perfectly in place. Caeneus was high up in the bureau of rhetoric and had never had any issue arguing with Koros, after all. Certainly they would have been able to make Soter see sense. That hadn’t worked either, and none were more bewildered by Soter’s adamant protesting than Caeneus themself.
Koros of the present had given up on rationalizing. Instead he sat down on the floor next to his husband, idly folding the garments that had been mussed. “Is there something you want changed, specifically, or would you rather go cuddle in bed?”
“You’re working,” Soter sniffed, palming at an eye as he continued to fuss with the items around him. Koros rolled his own eyes in return, placing a gentle hand to Soter’s back.
“Part of my work is taking care of you, remember? Regardless of your form. Besides, you know your sibling would kill me if I didn’t keep you happy.”
“Really?”
Koros nodded, pushing himself back up to his feet so that he might help Soter stand as well. Together the two withdrew to their bedroom, Koros pulling back only so that he might make sure that the room’s nightlight was set up. Soter crawled into bed more than he sat upon it, immediately burrowing into the several robes that had been left there - all Koros’.
Koros could not hide his small smile as he watched Soter snuggle into all the fabric, nosing his way into a position curled up where he was comfortable. With a wave of his hand, Koros replaced Soter’s day clothes with softer loungewear, admiring the glowing golden freckles that dotted his bump as the shirt rode up.
Amaurotines weren’t supposed to be able to transform while expecting. Their magicks slowed until even creation magick was too difficult, no matter how basic. Teleportation became unavailable. Transforming? It was already an unusual and difficult endeavor, one only those extremely skilled could master.
Yet Soter remained… somewhat aligned with his. Koros wasn’t wholly surprised, he’d spent centuries researching his transformation - its sentience compared to Soter’s, the potent abilities it carried. Leaves and flowers still sprouted in Soter’s hair when happy, his freckles still shone with golden light. Even now, looking at him, Koros could not help but compare him to the image of his transformation, down in his lab in Pandaemonium:
Claws digging into the ground, woody snout snuffling the dirt as vines continued to grow and flourish. It was as though he could plant himself at will - and nesting now seemed to bring that same comfort in his usual flesh.
“Do you want me to mist you with water shards?” he asked with feigned nonchalance, scratching along his scalp and smiling at the deep purr it seemed to elicit from Soter. The newest ascendant to Halmarut hummed, practically kneading into the robes.
Koros sighed, shaking his head lightly as he summoned a water crystal into his hand.
“Alright, my venus flytrap. Whatever wish you have, I shall manage it.”