#also fun fact - autocorrect changed 'son' to 'sin' for me in reference to Emil XD

[kosmosian-quills]

A Long Awaited Miracle

Hello again! Sorry about the long absence, but I’ve just not been very inspired at all, and thanks to @cirianne​‘s wonderful support after I fell into a rabbit hole, I was able to get this done! I hope you enjoy it!

There's a certain tension in the way Maciej enters our room tonight. In the way he hesitates to remove his hand from the handle as the door clicks shut, in how he refuses to look in my direction as he crosses the room to the drinks cabinet in the far corner, in how his hand trembles as he pours himself a stiff drink.

I can't say it's surprising. It's almost a ritual at this point.

He slowly approaches the bed I'm waiting for him on. I don't speak, or even utter a single sound, not until he's finished his glass of wine. He sits down on his side of the bed, still opting not to face me as he speaks.

"It's humiliating, Jadzia. I have a duty to my family, to keep the Royal line going. And yet, what should be a simple task seems almost impossible."

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, knocking it out of its normally crisp and neat style.

"We've been doing this almost every night for years. And we still seem no closer, do we?" he dares to barely turn his head towards me, just about looking at me.

"And Andrzej - he and Eleonora were married and merely two months later she was pregnant. It feels almost like he's rubbing it in, every time he brings his son here."

"I'm sure that's not true, Maciuś," I move from my position, closer to him, joining him at the bedside. Flicking my dark hair over my shoulders, I move as close to him as possible. "It's no fault of the boy's that he was born."

One thing I'm sure of, is that there will be no one in this world that has seen my husband so upset. Maybe his mother, or his brother, in his childhood, but not now. He wouldn't show them this, what he is showing to me. It will have been years since he cried in front of them.

"Like how it's not your fault we're going through all this." I reach over and hold his hand in mine, and he squeezes back, his other hand balled into a fist.

"It certainly seems like it from my perspective, the doctor said himself that there is nothing wrong with you," his voice trembles ever so slightly, when he says you. I wince inwardly, not quite able to form a response to that.

He isn't wrong. The doctor said that there should be no issue for us to get pregnant, but left it at that. The implications are glaringly obvious to me.

However, the words that he is repeating to me, are words that the doctor said to us years ago.

We have been undergoing regular fertility treatments for three years now, and it has certainly left a strain on almost every aspect of our lives. He feels useless, and I feel overwhelmed in large part due to the various drugs given to me for treatment. And just when I get my hopes up that this time - this time - it worked, the result is negative.

It's exhausting. We wait a few weeks, and the cycle repeats again.

All I have left in me, is the hope that it will work. That all this will be worth it, and I will be able to give him a child that we're both so desperate for.

"My apologies, Jadwiga," his voice is low and hollow, and he looks at me properly, "that was inconsiderate of me. I know what you're doing for this, for us."

I bring his hand, still entwined in mine, up to my lips and plant a small kiss, leaning on his shoulder slightly, "apology accepted.”

"I just don't understand it. Why can't I do the simplist thing that is expected of me?" it's painful to hear how he tries to conceal the tears that teeter on the edge of his voice, threatening to overwhelm him. "What is wrong with me?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all, Maciej, you care so, so much, and I want to see you happy again."

Trying to sound reassuring by giving him the ounces of hope I had reserved for myself, is all I can do. I can't blame him for this. Things have to happen, we are just unlucky. Our luck will turn around in our favour one day. It has to. For both of our sakes.

"We're both doing the best we can, and that's all we can do. We'll have our wish soon."

---

I couldn't place the strange, uneasy feeling I had that morning. It didn't help that I felt sick, but I suppose that is to be expected with the chilly weather we had been having despite our recent arrival into spring.

But I suppose the sickening feeling in my stomach was something of an omen to the news brought to us that morning.

I had barely even heard what had happened - the attendant came over and whispered in Maciej's ear. His eyes grew wide, and he leapt up from his seat and rushed to the door without another word. The sombre look on the attendant's face as he looked at me was all I needed to know, all I needed to get up and follow my husband down the corridor, to the room that his mother had retired to last night.

The Queen is dead.

Her Majesty, Queen Helena Janewska Górskanka, passed away during the night, and there seems to be a heavy shadow cast over the inhabitants of the castle now.

It was almost too sudden, too soon, to be real. She shouldn't have died so suddenly. She was in perfect health before today. In fact, she had been cheerful (well - as cheerful as her majesty allowed herself to be). She had been all smiles and happiness, even Maciej had laughed along with her at the dinner table last night.

My only hope, is that she died in happiness, in the comfort of her eldest son and her daughter-in-law. That she was proud of him.

I suppose I'll never have that answer.

And just like that, everything that was previously her job - became Maciej's responsibility entirely.

He wasn't just my husband, now. He wasn't just Maciej Pawełski Górskanki, eldest son to Helena and Paweł Górskanki, heir to the throne of the country.

No, he was now soon-to-be King, and for the first time in generations...

... he was stepping into those shoes, heirless.

I'm sure he feels that deep, burning shame that I am. That we are seven years into our marriage and still have no child, that his parents wanted to see the future of our country, and we couldn't do that for them.

At least... not whilst they were alive, it seems.

And now, here I am, waiting nervously for the results of the test I just took. I haven't told Maciej, for the fear that this is merely a passing illness, and not what we have been dreaming of for years.

If it's not real, I can keep this to myself and move on - disappointed, of course - but at least Maciej wouldn't be heartbroken at the excitement and then deflation that comes with waiting for these results. Especially today, after the death of his mother.

His father died after the Winter Festival last december. He had been in ill health, and it seemed his time had come without much fuss. Maciej was of course devastated, as was I, yet nothing came of our situation. We had hoped to have a little more time, but alas, we did not.

The pit in my stomach at the thought of this test being negative - like all the rest - is unbearable. The effort we're going through... it's not fair, it's not fair that we've been unsucessful after so long. Even I am finding it hard to stay positive in this matter. After all the hormone treatments and doctor's visits and negative tests, it's all too much now. I don't know how much longer I'll -

My train of thought is interrupted by my prompt to check the results. Here I am, sat on the bathroom floor of my own ensuite, hands shaking as I reach up to the sink for my test.

It feels like the air in my lungs has vanished. The weight on my shoulders lighter. The sickliness in my stomach eased.

That little "+" that looks back at me, seems to have made all those problems go away, at least, for now.

I hold the test close to my chest, and can't help but let the sob escape me.