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The deep halls of ancient stone were busy and bustling as Ligevigr made his way home. Hundreds upon thousands of Rattoz swarmed about the towering chambers, jagged walls teaming with ruined arches and cobbled machinery. The monolithic roof loomed far above, a natural blend of sharp rock and crumbling architecture, supported by a vast sprawl of crooked scaffold similar to a spider's web of industry. The sound of chatter, like that of a million tiny claws scraping on smooth stone, left only the clang of metal and rumble of mine works to be heard over its din.

Like a huge carpet of varying-shaded, dark fur, the horde of rat-like creatures bundled across narrow bridges, walkways, and bulwarks. Below, lingered deep pits of gloom, filled to the brim with mist like a great caldron bubbling away under the city. Monstrous braziers, smoldering with pale flames illuminated the space, while clinging to the walls of the huge cavern, the ruins the People of Stone had left, still stood strong despite their age.

In doing so, they provided the perfect home for all the Rattoz of Ligevigr's clan. The millions of siblings, who shared his mother's womb, the great Clan Queen whom he was sworn to guard. It was from such a shift that he now sought to return. After hours spent in the Clan Queen's chamber, stood with armor and spear in hand beside her huge, bloated belly, seeing the pups within writhe and kick like the bubbling surface of a stew pot, while her full teats leaked like bloated udders.

The royal chamber was hot and musky, walls slathered with condensation as much as the queen's taut hide, her fur stretched thin to reveal the strained pink of her labored flesh beneath. Her weight alone often caused the wooden throne upon which she lounged to creak and groan, while the muffled moans of her voice as her many litters kicked and squirmed within were often all his sensitive ears could hear while on duty.

Not like I have to listen out for anything else. Guarding the queen's just a formality, there's no way any adversary could ever get to her. He thought to himself proudly, sure that if she was in danger, he'd protect her to the death. Or would I? Remember the assassin that attacked the Clan Queen of the far mountain? Would I have stopped that if it were my queen?

The somewhat sly, conniving nature of his race brought loyalty into question many times. He was loyal to his queen and the throne, true. But often simply enjoyed the idea of being so esteemed and close to her.

At least not on a birthing day, the hectic confusion of those, I'll gladly skip. He thought, pretty sure he could skip the feeding days too. _Shoving food into her maw? Yeah, I'll leave that to the other guards. _

The whole idea made him suddenly feel a little less special. Sure, he was a royal guard, a greater position than many a commoner due to his physical traits. But in Rattoz society, there were so many in a clan, that there were often a thousand more just like you. Unique wasn't a word often used in Ligevigr's life, yet there was one whom he considered may think of him in such a way.

At that, he reached the door to his dorm, hidden away in a narrow side tunnel. It was one in an endless line of simple arches, marked by black doors, all bearing a number. '2345' to be exact, as the metal plaque upon the cold bronze greeted him. He was unsure how his kind often just found themselves exactly where they needed to be, as if some other mind existed throughout all of them, subtly guiding their movements as one, coordinated, organized hive.

Certainly gives weight to the shamans' talks, about how we're all cogs in one machine. He wondered, adding a little weariness to how he thought about his Clan Queen. Serve the clan, serve the rest. _ _

At that, he glanced left and right, as if the eyes and ears of a thousand eavesdroppers lingered in the shadows about him. Yet only a few other Rattoz returning from their own shifts or leaving their dorms scurried about the long corridor, and so he took out his key and entered.

Of course, all this talk of clans and queens... His thoughts trailed off as he glanced about his dorm, the cavern shaded in gloom as he stripped off his gear, leaving only fur and the day's sweat to cover his nude flesh. There's only one queen for me.

He set his gear on a rack by the door, creeping quietly into his dorm. Opposite, lay a desk, littered with scrolls and tapestries, as well as notes on his upcoming guard stations. Beside it, the door to his bathroom was shrouded in shadows. The walls themselves were decorated by ornate markings, those of the race that had once built the city, as well as the red sigil of his clan, emblazoned on a hung totem. Unlike the vast sun-like great braziers that lit up the huge caverns outside, here, smaller flames sat perched atop rocky pedestals, smoldering in bowls to illuminate the room.

It was in that dancing light that he saw what lay in the center of the chamber, upon a warped bed of wood that creaked and groaned under her vast bulk. To say only a Clan Queen could become pregnant was a lie. In fact, many of the clan were not born of the royal womb, but of the blood of lesser rats. Not that Ligevigr thought his mate was worth any less than the gravid queen as he looked upon her, instantly feeling hot and smitten as she noticed him.

Finnafé had dark fur, yet such a coat was stretched thin over the bump of her vast belly, and teats swollen with milk. Marked with the runes of fertility by the shamans, she was ripe and fit to burst any day now. While not as huge as the Clan Queen, there was no womb Ligevigr loved more. To think he was the father of those that writhed within her, their little limbs rolling as taught lumps in her swollen tummy, was amazing beyond belief. He felt his heart flutter and his nethers grow hot at the idea, as the female Rattoz peered at him with lidded eyes, the ruby-red of her gaze like fire in the torchlight.

Oh, she's so beautiful. So full and fertile! He thought, legs shuffling while he didn't quite know what to do with his hands. She looks like she could pop within the hour, it's a good thing I got home!

He was in awe of how fast she'd grown. She'd always been larger than him, as most females were, but the fact that her weight was so concentrated in the vast bump that left her almost bed-ridden, was awe-inspiring. It had been no more than three weeks, he was sure, and only two since the shamans had told her she was pregnant. Expecting triplets, no less. Far less than a Clan Queen, to be sure, but common for a female like her.

Only, she is my queen, to be sure. He thought; certain his smitten face must be on full display as she maintained her bedroom eyes. Maybe we should make the most of that belly before we're parents?

He thought to suggest as much, but the heat of the situation caught his words, bundling them up like cotton in his tight throat, ensuring all that squeaked out was a shrill gasp.

"By the clans... Finnafé, you were nowhere near that big this morning!" He gestured a hand to her belly, and she rolled her eyes.

"Oh, trust me, me's know... me..." She gave a groan as her belly growled, roaring like some starved beast. "Ooof... Big kick." She let out a huff, before finally adding through another grunt. "Me... Me know... Me feel them growing every second... stretching me... It's... Good."

She let out a small pant, seeming very heated by the ordeal as her belly gurgled happily. Ligevigr could only feel heat rising in him, the sight of his mate this way truly appealing to his primal drive to breed.

Who said we had to stop at one litter? I could have her like this all the time, like the queen? He wondered; sure she'd have no opposition to the idea. She loves being a brood mother, I can tell!

Even so, he forwent saying as much, simply slinking over to place a hand on her firm mid-section, noticing that even the usually softer patches had turned hard as a rock.

Wow, they're so ready to come out! He noticed, feeling a kick under his hand. Oh, there's one, my little pup!

"Looks like they're running out of room, they'll have to come out soon," he suggested, rubbing her up and down lovingly.

"Sure feels like they're running out of room," Finnafé muttered, caressing her belly with him, only to wince as her whole tummy shuddered. "Gah... And it sure feels like me's about to pop me's cork!"

"This is what you get for being too greedy." Ligevigr chuckled, running his hand over the peak of her naval, before descending down towards her nethers. "Bet you can't even reach down here anymore."

"Please don't remind me," she huffed, leaning her head back with a small moan. "Mmm, my love, keep rubbing me like you do the queen."

"Finnafé, you are my queen," he assured her with a small chuckle. "My fertile, broody queen."

He ran his hand back up, feeling the usually soft spot in the middle also bore a hard tautness that wasn't there before.

After only weeks, it's all so fast. The idea she was truly about to give birth kept repeating itself in his mind. So fast, yet so good!

As he rubbed and groomed her bump, her face turned redder than her eyes. It was apparent she knew full well this was her fault. She was the one to suggest it, and who was he, a simple guard, to deny a large, horny female? It was almost as if she loved the pregnancy as much as she did the sex, and it was sure to only leave her larger when she was done

A few more litters from her and she'll be as big as the queen, pregnant or not! He thought, only able to imagine her girth at that point. I'd have to get her so much food!

"My little queen," he mumbled lovingly, almost able to flop his whole body over her bump.

"Eee, s-top it!" She playfully batted his cheek, grunting as another kick rolled under him. "Me's anything but little, sweetie."

"It's true though, you cannot deny it. You're my queen," he teased, before drawing back into the position he often adopted as a guard. "And as a queen, I'm sworn to protect you with my life." He winked at her; the smile on his face so charming it caused the pink in her cheeks to outdo that of her taut belly.

"Well, captain charming, let's hope the real queen never hears you say that." She chuckled, before cupping her bump as it squirmed. "Oof... But... Me's do kinda understand how she feels now, at least."

"I'm sure she wouldn't mind. There is no crime in believing my mate's a queen," he assured her, as he drew back to settle her restless belly. "Besides, I'm one of her favorites."

"Yeah, so are your other thousand brothers and sisters," she joked, patting his head. "The one

thing me know is real is..." Her face contorted as another shudder wracked her bump. "Well, the little gremlins in me, at least... They're pretty real and... Gah...Feels so tight!"

Ligevigr drew back, his ears folding as he gazed upon her tight bump, seeing it roll and squeeze from round to an oval.

Oh, that doesn't look like just kicks! He thought as he tentatively pressed his hand to it. _Feels hard as a rock, is this it, is it time!? _

"D-do you want me to go fetch a shaman... Is it time?" he asked, voice becoming a hurried mix of panic and overjoy. "Are we gonna be parents!?"

She shot him a flat look, before her muzzle wrinkled into a pained snarl. She clutched her sides as her bump gave a deep, low growl, and her tail flicked about like a lashing snake.

"N-no, no... Me wanna be like this for just a few moments longer, me..." There was an almighty splash behind Ligevigr.

He glanced down to the warm pool, then looked up at her sheepishly, while she seemed almost disappointed her labor had come so soon.

"O-okay, yes, go get them!" she called through the pain of a sudden contraction; he nodded frantically, darting out, only for her to grab his wrist. "But soon, me want more, me want to be your huge queen again!"