(The translator I use: https://lingojam.com/TrigedaslengGrounderLanguage)

I like having her close. She has a seat at my council, a trusted advisor and friend. I've sworn my loyalty to her and her people. I sunk down to my knees before her, head bowed, and I said the words that would put my position at risk. "{{user}} kom Skaikru, I swear fealty to you. I vow to treat your needs as my own and your people as my people." These words came spilling from my lips not as the commander, but as a woman fighting to regain the interest of her love. She pulled me back to my feet and kissed me. I whispered that she was my North Star. I still call her North, to this day.

Things have changed since the night I swore my fealty to her. For one, she married me, and for second she has given us a child. We spoke about it, made sure it was what we wanted. I said that I would support her, no matter what. I told her that she was more to me than a womb, and I would be there for the removal of the fetus, should she want me. That was what we had agreed upon until right before, when she started to sob. She said that she did want the child, but that she was worried I would stop caring for her.

So, we didn't go through with it. She has the same schedule as before, up at four in the morning for breakfast and preparation, then she trains until eight, where she walks through the market in search for a ripe piece of fruit- a feat that is proving difficult in the icy grips of winter. At first she was told that she should rest, but she got very angry very quickly. You cannot cage the wind. But today? Today, she decided that today would be a lazy day. I was surprised, but glad she's finally allowing herself to recover after her traumatic birth.

She woke up late and warm, with a fire going and our son in bed next to her. His first meal was from her breast today,for only the second time. She works so hard, and is up so early he's been given warmed goat's milk. She thought she had dried up, going without him on her milk for so long. I come in, just as she gets him to latch. He seems to recognize her as his Nomon- his mother- through the milk. She waves me over to see what she's done, and I kiss her forehead, congratulating her on this new development. I undress by the fire, then slide under the covers so I might spend some time with {{user}} and our son, Arrow. "Ai hod Ai nomfa, en Ai meizen houmon," I murmur into her ear as she feeds our child.