The Elders respectfully remind you that it is required of each purebred Braxaná male that he sire four registered purebred children during his lifetime. While we recognize that you are still young in age, your involvement in the War forces us to consider the possibility that you may not enjoy the full life expectancy of the Braxaná. Therefore we urge you to deal with your reproductive responsibilities as soon as possible. Attached you will find a list of purebred Braxaná women who have not yet borne their quota…

Instead of someone on the list, Zatar seeks out L’resh, a woman who, at the tender young age of 50, has already borne her obligatory four living children in eight pregnancies, though she almost died in the process. Zatar plies her with a rare and expensive liqueur and tries to seduce her; she is obviously moved by sexual desire, but denies his “How long since you’ve tasted a man?” advance with “I almost died, Zatar. What pleasure is worth death?” And then he reveals that the liqueur was actually contraception:

Her eyes widened.
“You’re going to tell me it’s illegal, and I’m going to say I know it. Would you like to remind me of the death penalty? I’ve destroyed the only evidence.”
She was still in shock from the revelation. “How…”
“There’s nothing so illegal that no one supplies it…”
[...]
“But isn’t there risk?” she breathed.
“There’s risk.” He kissed her, long and sweetly, reveling in her response. There was a decade’s hunger in her, if his guesswork was good — not an unpleasant prospect. “Tell me no,” he offered, “and I’ll leave.”
She clutched him tightly to her. There were no more words after that, or any need for them.

Having just copied that out by hand, I have to say that I think it’s one of the weaker passages in the book. But there’s your non-idealized birth control as plot device. Even if she does, yes, agree to bear him a child afterwards — but only after an offer that includes “Give me a living child and I’ll keep you supplied in contraception for the rest of your life.”

Heh. Yeah, thanks for bringing it up delicately as regards Graceling. I was so careful about spoilers, I just realized I didn’t even relate Graceling to the subject of my post, after mentioning I’d read it! Oops.

And yes, that’s a really good point about Katsa still *liking* children, just being unwilling to make the sacrifices to her freedom that being a mother would necessitate. At the end of Nobody’s Son, Gail’s line is, “…I looked at my sister with her new baby, and she didn’t look like her life was over, and I thought, I can do that! I mean, what if I want to travel about and be a wife and be a mother and have a wonderful time? Who is going to stop me?” Which is a totally valid perspective, and I wish her all the best… but being a mother *will* place limitations on her traveling about, and it will change the sort of wonderful times she has. No book can be every book, but I was so pleased to see Katsa look at those issues and come to a different conclusion.

(Of course, Gail’s a future queen, unlike Katsa, so she ultimately didn’t have much of a choice. I’m relieved that Graceling addresses the fact that heirs — like Raffin — can’t avoid marriage and children.)

Yeah, it’s a good question. I can’t think of any off the top of my head (with the exception of Charles DeLint, I think, but gritty urban fantasy has to deal with that sort of thing almost by definition). We’re usually shown the woman’s first time, but there’s no way George (for example) was a virgin by the time Alanna got to him. STDs were definitely a problem in the pseudo-medieval societies fantasies are usually set in. And yet you’re right, they never address that.

Although it’s not especially responsible, I can see why it’s never addressed in YA fantasy — part of the point of reading *fantasy* is to get away from heavy-handed problem novels, and it’s tough to talk about STDs for teens without getting a bit heavy-handed. Can anybody think of an adult fantasy in which it comes up? Even just to announce the presence of a magical anti-syphilis herb?

I’m trying to remember how Anne McCaffrey’s Menolly avoids children, but she might just wave her hands and not become pregnant. In Nancy Werlin’s forthcoming Impossible, there is a specific failure of birth control.