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waltwhitmansbeard · 2 years ago

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you need not worry, child (a my fair lady one-shot)

y'all thought i was done, but like delilah briarwood, i simply refuse to accept death! this is a one-shot that is going to be bridging my fair lady with its sequel. unlike the previous one-shot set in the mfl world, this one is actually like important and relevant to the plot, so i recommend reading it only once you've finished mfl, which you can read here on my tumblr or over on ao3.

the story does require some trigger warnings, but bc i don't want to spoil some things if i don't have to, i'm gonna ask you to go over to ao3 to read them there. this way people who want the trigger warnings can get them but people who would rather not have those warnings spoil some of the plot points of this one-shot don't have to worry about that. in general, i will say that this one-shot deals with some sensitive subjects that may not be appropriate for all readers. also i'm not a doctor. i don't even play one on tv.

and of course, we would not be here without @romeoandjulietyouwish and her wonderful medieval au!

In the depths of autumn, when nightfall is quickened and the wind blows cold, a little cottage stands under the mostly bare branches of a cherry tree. Out front, a small patch of squash and turnips grows wild, framing the path leading up to the bright green front door from the direction of an impressive castle. A man walks this path, a black cloak pulled tight around his shoulders against the chill, and stops briefly to smile at the member of the castle guard stationed on watch a few dozen yards away before pushing inside, where he is greeted by a crackling fire and the smell of something burning.

"Hello?" he calls, trying not to be too worried by the smoke in the air as he toes his boots off to set just inside the door.

"Hi!" Keyleth twists around from their little kitchenette to grin apologetically at him. "I'm...still getting the hang of this."

Vax doesn't mind. (Vax never minds.) As a princess, his wife was not taught the ways of homemaking and cooking, but since they've moved into their home, she has thrown herself into the effort. Though her days are often filled with important work befitting someone who will someday rule a nation, she practices as often as she can, and Vax, who still wakes up disbelieving that this is his life, treats each attempt as though it were concocted by the castle chefs themselves.

(Of course, Vax himself is no slouch at the culinary arts, having studied at his mother's elbow for years before he and his sister were sent to Syngorn. He's always enjoyed cooking, the riot of aromas in the air, his attention being pulled in half a dozen directions at once. He knows Keyleth feels the urge to learn, to prove herself to be more than a coddled princess who's never had to work to provide for herself, and even though he'd never believe such a thing about the woman who works harder than any person he's ever met, he understands that this is a matter of pride, and he's not going to stand in her way.)

He sidles up behind her at the stove and wraps his arms around her waist. "What's for dinner?"

She sticks her bottom lip out, stirring hopelessly at a large pot of...something. Stew, maybe? "What we can pilfer from the kitchens, I think." She sighs. "I'm not very good at this, am I?"

"Hey." He presses a kiss into the side of her neck. "You are extraordinary at a great number of things. If cooking is your greatest weakness, I do believe the future of the Ashari Nation is still in good hands."

Her body is tense, jittery. "I suppose. I just wanted..." She tosses her ladle into the pot. "It doesn't matter." She smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "I can go get us something from the castle."

"Come here." He spins her away from the stove to face him. "There is trouble in your eyes. Did something happen?"

Something shifts in her smile, and now instead of disappointed, she seems restless. She glances at the pot, clearly gives up, and takes his hand and pulls him toward the little sofa facing the fire. She sits and curls her legs under her, her entire demeanor feverish and distracted. She plays with his fingers nervously. "I spoke with Nel today."

"Oh." Nel is Derrig's wife, and since Derrig took over his role as Keyleth's primary guard, she has become a staple figure in their lives. She comes to tidy the cottage for them sometimes, her three eight-year-old girls and baby boy in tow, and has been Keyleth's principal instructor on her culinary journey. It is not unusual for Keyleth to have spoken to her today, so he asks, "What did you talk about?"

"Well, you are aware of what Nel does? When she is not being a godsend to us, of course."

Vax furrows his brow. He's sure he knows, but after the day he's had, he can hardly remember his own name. "Remind me?"

Keyleth worries her lip between her teeth. "She's a midwife."

The realization comes slow, like the sun breaking over the horizon. His eyes widen, and a hopeful smile creeps along Keyleth's face. "No." She nods. "Truly?"

"We're going to have a child," she breathes, and then she's squeaking, having been lifted up off the sofa and spun around in a circle. "Vax!"

He sets her down carefully, knocking their foreheads together. "We're going to have a child." He sighs. "How long have you known?"

"Nel only confirmed it today, but I've suspected for a few weeks, actually. I wanted to be sure before getting your hopes up."

Vax is worried his heart is going to leap directly from his chest. He holds Keyleth's face in his hands, her skin flushed and bright in the glow of the fire, and kisses her, grins against her lips like a man possessed. It was approximately a year ago that they were just beginning, a princess and her guard, a romance fated for heartbreak and misery, yet here they are, in their home, their rings on each other's fingers, and a baby on the way. Vax could never have imagined for himself this ecstasy, this contentment, this peace. As he pulls his miracle of a wife back onto the sofa, curling her into his side, he sends a quick prayer to his matron, the mistress of fate, to thank her for weaving for him a destiny far brighter than any he would have created for himself.

They sit on the news as long as they can, but Keyleth, not quite the purveyor of secrets that Vax is, starts to split at the seams before a fortnight is out. She comes home after a long day of meetings, most with her father, and demands they tell him before she blurts it out in front of the entire council and his advisors. Vax, mercifully, agrees, and the next morning the two of them set off for the castle together, in search of the sovereign. They find him in his private study, and the door has only just closed when Keyleth, gripping Vax's hand tightly, spills the news like a criminal's confession.

The sovereign, who sits at a large desk littered with all manner of maps and papers and ledgers, stares at them impassively for a long minute, and Keyleth feels beads of sweat trailing down her neck. Finally, the exterior cracks, and he is grinning, crossing the room at a breakneck speed to gather her up in a hug. She sinks into her father's embrace, relieved that he is not displeased.

"Congratulations, my daughter," he says, holding her out at arm's length to look at her. "I should have known. You have that same glow your mother had." Tears spring to Keyleth's eyes, and she flicks them away with a laugh.

Her father then turns to Vax, claps him on the shoulder, and pulls him into a hug as well. Vax's face blooms in surprise, but he tentatively returns the gesture. Her father ends the embrace and then shakes his hand. "You're in for an adventure, son."

At the word son, Keyleth watches Vax's entire body shift. He straightens up, his throat bobbing just a bit, and he says, "There's no one else I'd rather go on it with."

They tell Percy and Vex at the same time, which is easy enough, given that the two spend little of their free time apart these days. They invite them over for dinner, Vax helming the cooking effort, and Vex hasn't even shrugged off her cloak before she's pointing an accusatory finger between the two of them. "You're pregnant."

Keyleth gapes. "How?"

Percy, who is in the process of hanging his own jacket up near the door, looks at her with concern. "What do you mean, how? Surely you know the mechanics of it."

Keyleth's face bursts into flames. "That—I didn't—how did you know?"

"I was right?" Vex gasps. "I was fucking with you!" She wheels on Vax, barreling toward him and throwing her arms around his neck.

Vax catches her with a laugh. "So you're happy for me then, Stubby?"

She pinches the back of his neck. "Of course, I'm happy for you. Anything that brings you joy brings me joy."

Percy walks up to Keyleth and pulls her in for a hug. It is a relief not to be keeping this secret from the closest thing she's ever had to a brother. "This is magnificent news, Keyleth."

She grins. "You're going to make a wonderful uncle, Percy."

His eyes grow misty, and she knows he's thinking of all of the other nieces and nephews he is never going to have. "I'll protect any child of yours with my life, you know that, right?"

"If you love them half as well as you've loved me, my child will be very blessed, indeed."

"And you." He holds her by the shoulders, looks her straight in the eye. "You will make a wonderful mother. Any child would be lucky to be raised with your empathy and your generosity."

Now it's Keyleth's turn to be teary-eyed, and she buries her face in his shoulder, so grateful to have a friend as true as he.

Word spreads quickly through the castle, because nothing loosens lips like the news of a royal child. Keyleth once again finds herself the object of much attention and speculation, which is never a position she enjoys. The situation only worsens when the news breaks beyond the castle, beyond Zephrah. Felicitations and gifts come flooding in from all corners of the Ashari Nation and countries beyond, including a beautiful wooden cradle of Elvish make from the High Warden of Syngorn and a child's book of arcane magic from the Stormwinds of Draconia. (Keyleth decides to give the latter to Lady Allura, Mistress of Arcana, for safekeeping.)

Along with the well wishes come snippets of gossip, rumors about the child's father and a royal woman carrying the seed of a lowly commoner. The fact that Vax has been titled as Champion of the Raven Queen has not reached all corners of society, but even still, Keyleth boils at the thought of either her husband or their child being scorned for their social standing. Is it not enough to have the eternal adoration of a royal? Is a title what makes Vax worthy of her, and not his heart, his courage, his loyalty? Vax brushes away the gossip, reminding her that as a god's Champion, he needs not the approval of others, but Keyleth cannot forgive the injury.

The only word that seems to have any effect on Vax is one Keyleth knows he's had hurled his way his entire life: bastard. Their child is not a bastard, of course, and Keyleth is not so naïve as to be unaware that a princess birthing a bastard child would cause problems with the line for the throne. It is perilous, therefore, for such slander to be whispered about, and they both know it. There is only so much they can do to quell the rumors—they are married, a fact that cannot be disputed before any king or god—but worse than the dangers regarding lineage is the way the word brings out the shadows in Vax's eyes. There is nothing she can say—how does one shake off insults about one's child when they aren't even true?—so she turns to her father, who in turn decrees that any potential guest at Zephran court who has spoken ill of his grandchild and the future sovereign of the Ashari Nation shall never darken the halls of his castle again. The rumors don't stop completely, but they never hear the word bastard again, which is something of a relief.

Keyleth is quite amused to notice the changes in Vax's demeanor now that they are expecting a child. Already an extremely physically affectionate person, Vax is almost never not touching her when they are together. His hand is on the small of her back, or his chin is hooked on her shoulder, or he keeps their legs pressed together when sitting beside one another. He is always there, a moth fluttering about a flame, but Keyleth doesn't mind. She enjoys the happy, loose grin on his face, the press of his palm against the barely-visible curve of her stomach. She knows that family is a matter of particular importance to Vax, whose own experience with it has been unsteady and often lonely, and she will never begrudge him these first moments of domestic joy.

It is not only in their little cottage that his physical attentions have become more prominent. Before Keyleth became pregnant, she was always careful to maintain a respectable display of affection while in the castle, not only for her father's sake, but also to maintain her regal presence in front of court. This habit is broken by Vax, who keeps at least one hand on her wherever they are in the castle. He has also developed an interesting tendency of just slightly placing his body between Keyleth and whomever they're speaking with, an impulse Keyleth suspects he hasn't even noticed in himself.

Personally, she doesn't resent Vax's new proclivities—she has always felt more relaxed when he is near—but she does see the hint of scandal in the eyes of those at court who are accustomed to more proper displays of affection. Once, when Vax has been called to be present at the funeral of a farmer on the edge of town, Keyleth visits with her father, to whom she apologizes for any discomfort or impropriety.

Her father, however, waves off her concern. "Keyleth, I was a complete and utter madman while your mother carried you. There was a page who accidentally spilled some wine on her one afternoon and I nearly had the boy thrown in the dungeons for a month until Vilya talked me down off the ledge. Vax's behavior does not trouble me at all."

So Keyleth allows herself to enjoy it, the small touches, his constant nearness. When they lie together in bed and he presses his ear to her scantly rounded belly, whispering secrets and promises to their child, she comes to understand that this, this quiet joy, this tremulous heart in her throat, is when her lifetime of loneliness has truly come to its end.

One morning, just a few weeks after the night their lives changed forever, Vax awakes suddenly before dawn to the bed jostling harshly. He lifts up onto his elbows in time to see Keyleth hurtling out of their bedroom and into the kitchen. Confused, he slides out of bed and follows her. "Kiki?" He hears a violent retching sound and moves faster.

In the kitchen, he finds Keyleth bent over the sink, trying to keep her hair out of the way as she vomits into it. Vax rushes up to her, holds her hair in one hand, and rubs the other up and down her back. Her entire torso ripples as she heaves, again and again, until nothing but bile comes out. In what little moonlight creeps in through the curtains, he can see she is ghostly pale, and she gasps for air through her retches.

When she seems to be done, her shoulders slumped forward, he grabs a dishcloth, wets it in the sink, and uses it to wipe the sweat and sick from her face. "There," he breathes, brushing her hair back. "Are you alright?"

"I'm sorry," she murmurs, and her mouth is clearly dry. "I'm sorry."

"Absolutely not." He takes the carafe of water from their tiny dining table and pours her a glass. "Drink this, and do not ever apologize to me for this. I have no way of knowing what stress this is putting on your body. You never have to be sorry for growing our child, Kiki."

Exhausted, Keyleth slumps against him, slowly slipping at the glass of water. He ushers her back into the bedroom, where they sit on the edge of the bed together as she finishes her drink. He then takes the glass from her, sets it on the bedside table, and lays her back down. "You take such good care of me," she murmurs, her eyes sliding closed.

Vax leans down to kiss her forehead. "We take care of each other. We're a team."

She smiles softly, and then she's asleep again.

These violent purges quickly become a nightly thing, waking them both suddenly from a dead sleep, until the issue begins to infect their days as well. Keyleth cannot keep any food down, vomiting everything back up within half an hour of each meal. Nel visits often, testing out new methods of combating the nausea—herbal teas, smelling salts, different diets, changing the pace of eating—but nothing helps. Vax notices that Keyleth is losing weight, when he knows she should be gaining some to support the baby's growth. Anxiety fills his every waking thought, and he skives off most of his duties as Champion to once more follow his wife around, the princess's uneasy shadow, not that he imagines he would be any help to her in this condition.

His anxiety turns to panic a month later, when Nel, having stopped by to check on Keyleth after what has now become her regular afternoon nap, pulls him aside to say, "I worry for them both if she cannot start gaining weight again."

Vax's blood runs cold. He sees the pallor in Keyleth's skin, the sunken shape of her cheeks, and he knows that she is unwell. "Nel, please. They are my world."

Nel runs a stressed hand through her long blond hair. "I wish I knew what to try next. She is not able to keep food down long enough for either she or the baby to receive enough sustenance."

Korrin, who had joined Nel in her visit and whose eyes reflect Vax's own disquiet, says, "Vilya suffered similarly, if I recall, but I don't believe her nausea causes quite this much distress. There was some remedy, I believe, but that knowledge has been lost to me in the past twenty years."

Vax wants to pull his hair out. "There must be something. A potion we haven't tried, an old wives' trick, anything."

"I have an idea."

All three turn to see Keyleth leaning against the open door frame of the bedroom. Her thick dressing gown is wrapped around her to ward off the early winter's chill. She looks so frail, Vax worries one good gust of wind will come take her away.

"What is your idea?" Nel asks, keeping her voice bright, though Vax can hear the doubt in it.

Instead of answering, Keyleth walks toward them and out the front door. There is a light dusting of snow on the ground, and she is only wearing thin slippers. Vax snatches a knitted blanket off of the sofa and rushes after her, Korrin and Nel on his heels. Keyleth walks to the cherry tree, its branches reaching and bare, and settles herself on the ground between two large roots. Vax catches up to her and, wrapping the blanket tightly around her shoulders, asks, "What are you doing?"

"Wait." She places her hands on the hard, cold ground and closes her eyes. Vax steps back to watch, tossing a confused glance over his shoulder at the sovereign and the midwife. Keyleth sits in silence, breathing slow and deep, and between his own raucous heartbeats, Vax listens to the bracing wind whistle through the branches. The cold brings some color back to Keyleth's cheeks, though he isn't sure the exposure is good for her. He waits as long as he dares, and just when he has decided to lift her up and carry her back into the warmth of the cottage, her eyes flicker open. "Cinnamon."

Vax blinks in surprise. "I'm sorry?"

Keyleth begins to stand, and Vax rushes to help her to her feet. To Nel, she says, "The tea you made with the ginger and the fennel and the peppermint. We need to try adding cinnamon."

Nel seems just as bewildered as Vax feels, but she nods fervently. "Right away, Your Highness." She rushes off toward the gardens.

Vax and Korrin steer Keyleth back inside, settling her in front of the fire with several blankets piled atop her lap and shoulders. Vax sits at her feet and asks, "What did you do out there?"

She offers a little shrug. "I'm not sure. It...felt like praying, in a way, but to the natural world, rather than a god. Papa, you said that Mother had found a way to ease her symptoms, and I thought...I don't know, perhaps the earth remembers."

Vax exchanges a baffled look with Korrin. The sovereign places a hand on his daughter's shoulder. "Did you hear her?" he whispers.

Keyleth reaches up to hold onto his hand. "Maybe. I'm not sure. I'd like to think so, even if just indirectly."

Nel returns within half an hour with a new tea concoction in hand. She steeps it in some boiling water and gives it to Keyleth to drink, which she does hesitantly. Vax and the others wait with bated breath. After several long, agonizing minutes, a smile begins to curl at the corners of Keyleth's mouth. "Well. I haven't felt this good in ages."

Vax lets out a nearly manic laugh, ducking his forehead against her knee. Nel announces that she is going to begin cooking at once, and Korrin comes to sit on the sofa beside his daughter. He pulls her into a hug. "You astound me. Every day, you astound me."

Vax watches with pride as Keyleth leans into her father's embrace, and to himself, he thinks a quiet prayer to the Raven Queen, asking her to pass on his endless gratitude to Vilya of the Ashari Nation.

Keyleth's health improves, but slowly, and while her nausea is abated enough to allow her to keep most foods down, she still struggles with general queasiness and fatigue. She will take that, however, over wasting away and near-constant regurgitation. As the nights stretch out, each longer than the last, so too does her belly, which Keyleth finds herself running a hand over almost compulsively. It doesn't feel real, this smooth, hard bump, and she is often distracted by it when she should be listening in meetings. Her father insists that she does not need to maintain her usual schedule, that she should be resting more, but she feels so behind already, with how much time she spent feeling ill and malnourished, so she attends every conference and planning session, offering her insight on farming subsidies, an updated taxation plan, and a major construction project in Pyrah. She studies her documents and formulates her arguments, and most nights she falls asleep on the sofa in front of the fire, physically and mentally exhausted.

Vax begs her to slow down, to take more breaks, but Keyleth knows that if she is to be sovereign some day, she cannot use pregnancy or motherhood as an excuse for any dereliction of duty. Her father raised her alone—albeit, with the assistance of the castle staff—and maintained his obligation to his people at the same time, and she'll be damned if she doesn't do the same.

Once a season, the royal family opens the castle doors and invites any Ashari citizen to come forward and express a grievance, concern, or request to the sovereign. Many also bring donations, extra food or clothing or even livestock that they do not need that can then be redistributed to the poor. Keyleth attends, of course, with Vax always at her elbow, and she helps her father welcome in each and every guest, who hail primarily from Zephrah, though a few have made the long trek from the other Ashari cities and villages.

Much to her dismay, the talk of the event is the upcoming royal baby. Many Zephrans have brought small gifts for the child, such hand-knitted swaddling clothes and toys carved from wood, and Keyleth accepts them all with awe and joy. The generosity of her people staggers her, and more than once, she finds herself needing to turn to wipe away tears.

Still, despite this awe-inspiring goodness, Keyleth's energy begins to dwindle quickly. She is rarely surrounded by so many people at once, and the noise and the smells and the heat are starting to overwhelm her. Her mouth goes dry, and her hand reaches back to where she knows Vax is.

Instantly, his hand is in hers, and his voice is in her ear. "Are you alright?"

She shakes her head, which is starting to swim. Through her dizziness, she is aware that Vax is quickly escorting her from the throne room, though she cannot feel her legs moving. When they are out in the hall, away from the bustle of the gathering, Vax leans her up against a wall and inspects her closely. "Kiki, talk to me."

Derrig, who had apparently seen their rapid exit inside, appears beside him, his eyes widening at whatever he sees on Keyleth's face. "She does not look well."

"We'll take her to Pike," Vax announces, which is the last thing Keyleth hears before her eyes roll back in her head and she crumbles toward the ground.

Vax manages to catch Keyleth before she crashes to the stone floor, staggering to scoop her up into his arms. His heart has leapt into his throat, and he turns to Derrig and snaps, "Get us to Pike, now."

Derrig doesn't hesitate. He leads the way toward Pike's chambers, Vax stumbling behind as fast as he can. He's only half paying attention to where they're going, his eyes locked on Keyleth's unconscious face. It seemed so sudden, her decline in the throne room; one minute she was smiling among her people, accepting a baby blanket dyed in the colors of the Ashari crest, and the next she was pale and distant. Is it poison? This wouldn't be the first time that someone would try to use a toxin to kill her, and with so many people crowded into one room, it wouldn't be difficult to apply something to her skin or slice her with a poisoned blade. Or perhaps some magic has been cast on her—would that be something Pike could undo?

Derrig shoves open the doors to Pike's study, which is half a library, half a shrine to Sarenrae. The Mistress of Divinity is up on a ladder, pulling a leather-bound tome off of a shelf that would be too high for Vax, never mind a gnome, and she nearly falls off in her surprise at their entrance. "What in the Hells..." She trails off at the sight of Keyleth, unconscious and sagging in Vax's arms. She scurries down the ladder. "Get her on the sofa."

There's a low sofa near the windows, and Derrig quickly knocks some papers that had been left atop it onto the floor. Vax carefully lays Keyleth down, crossing her arms over her torso and brushing her hair away from her face. "Pike, please!"

She appears, her holy symbol clutched in one hand. "Let me work." She closes her eyes and holds her empty hand just a few inches above Keyleth's chest. Vax hovers, heart beating wildly, eyes never leaving Keyleth's slack face. It seems like a lifetime before Pike relaxes out of her posture and says, "Neither magic nor poison did this. She seems unaffected by any outside influence."

"I don't understand," Vax grits out. "She just...dropped. Something must have happened."

Pike turns to Derrig. "Go get your wife, please." The guard nods once and disappears back into the hall. Then to Vax, she says, "This seems more medical than mystical to me. I want Nel's expertise."

Vax falls to his knees beside the sofa, taking one of Keyleth's clammy hands into his. "Is...is our child alright?"

Pike hesitates, then places a hand on Keyleth's rounded belly. "I sense a life in here, yes. For now, at least, your child still lives."

Vax's forehead crashes against the edge of the sofa, and he stays there, praying to the Raven Queen over and over and over not to take his family from him. Pike pats him on the shoulder before going over to one of her workstations.

It takes only ten minutes for Derrig to reappear with Nel, who carries with her a satchel of various herbs and remedies. Vax quickly moves out of the way for her as she leans down over his wife. "Any insight, Mistress Pike?"

"Nothing that I would be able to help with. I think this is more your area."

Nel puts her fingers to the inside of Keyleth's wrist, then presses her ear to her stomach. Vax watches in confusion as she continues to poke and prod at Keyleth, and he wants to scream at her to do something, but he stands by in tense, agonizing silence.

After several minutes, Nel digs around in her bag and pulls out a tiny glass vial, which she uncorks and sticks under Keyleth's nose. Five, six seconds later, Keyleth's eyes flutter open, and she coughs a bit, a hand coming up to flick away the offending vial. "What...?"

"Keyleth!" This time, Nel moves for Vax so that he may curl over her, putting his hands on either side of her face. "Gods, you're awake." He looks to Nel over his shoulder. "How...?"

"She fainted," Nel explains simply, "likely due to stress and overwhelm." She narrows her eyes and points a finger at Keyleth. "You have been overexerting yourself. You are very lucky no damage was done."

Keyleth smiles sheepishly. "Yes, ma'am." She turns to look at Vax, and he can only imagine what she sees on his face. "Hey." She lays a hand on his cheek. "I'm sorry. I'm alright, truly."

Vax can't even begin to find the words to answer, so it is Pike who pipes up and says, "I don't want to step on your toes, Nel, but between this and the extreme nausea, I feel like the princess needs to...take a step back."

Keyleth frowns, but Nel nods in agreement. "I concur. Your Highness, my recommendation is bed rest."

Keyleth's jaw drops. "Bed rest! But there's still months to go!"

"Your Highness, you are still underweight and fainting as you did today is alarming. Your dedication to your work is admirable but I hope you do not believe it should come at the expense of either your health or your child's."

"Keyleth." He barely whispers her name. It is a plea. It is a prayer. She looks at him, at the supplication in his eyes, and she relents. "I will...ease my pace," she agrees. "I cannot commit to complete bed rest, not yet, but I promise, I will not maintain the workload I currently carry."

Vax will take whatever victory he can claim. He kisses her, relieved she is awake. Nel instructs her husband to go to the infirmary and retrieve a rolling chair, and when Derrig returns with it, he and Vax help Keyleth up off of the sofa. They take her in the chair back to the cottage, Keyleth mortified the entire way, and Vax fusses over her until she is in bed and resting. He thanks Derrig for his and Nel's help, and when they are alone, he climbs into bed beside his wife, curling his body around her and dropping his head onto her shoulder. "Do you know how keenly I need you?"

Keyleth brings a hand up to stroke his hair down his back. "I am sorry. I didn't think..." She sighs. "I thought I could do everything. Be a mother and a wife and a sovereign."

"You can," Vax insists, "but you cannot do it alone. It is why I'm here, why Nel and Derrig and Percy and Pike and your father are here. But we can only help you if you let us."

A single tear rolls down her cheek. "I am afraid of losing myself."

"I am afraid of losing you. Please, I am begging you, let us take some of your burden. If either one of you is lost, I will not survive it."

Keyleth twists her neck and kisses his forehead, and whispers, "For you, anything."

True to her word, Keyleth begins taking items off of her schedule, limiting herself to only a handful of meetings per week with no more public appearances. She is assisted by the council, who come to her regularly to report important information and to seek her guidance for future conversations. Keyleth begrudgingly admits to herself that having the work come to her is a lot easier on her back and knees than daily trips up to the castle.

She does not stay completely bedridden though. She still totters around her garden, when the snow begins to melt, to tend to her vegetables and plants. She also has more time to devote to cooking lessons, which Nel is happy to provide if it means Keyleth is not traipsing about the castle at a breakneck pace.

In fact, Nel has become quite a staple in their little home, and with Derrig always somewhere near, it means that they have the entire family over rather frequently. The triplets trample in and out of the cottage, dragging the last of the winter's snow with them and constantly screeching about something or another, and baby Will is almost never out of Vax's arms. On a night, when Nel is walking Keyleth through some new recipe or technique, Vax is with Derrig on the sofa, bouncing the child in front of the fire and, much to the women's horror, watching him play with one of Vax's daggers.

Keyleth often finds herself distracted by the sight of Vax with the baby. He seems so natural, lifting the child up above his head or rocking him to soothe his cries. It is, much to her surprise, utterly provocative, and often after these dinners have concluded and Derrig and Nel have dragged their exhausted children home, Keyleth tugs Vax by the belt toward the bed, where he tries to insist that she not supposed to exert herself too much before giving in to her more persuasive temptations.

When the snow has largely finished melting and the white blooms appear on the cherry tree's branches, the two of them set up a small picnic at the roots to celebrate, still bundled against the chill. Keyleth breathes in deep, enjoying the sting of the air in her lungs. Spring is her favorite time of year, with the promise of renewal and growth. As the weather warms, new sprigs will erupt from the earth, and she cannot wait to watch and nurture each and every one.

After their lunch, in which Keyleth has proudly displayed her much-improved culinary talents, they sit back against the trunk of the tree, Keyleth nestled between Vax's legs, his arms tight around her torso. She keeps her cheek pressed against his and listens to the twittering of squirrels in the branches above.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he murmurs after a long silence.

She smiles. "You can always have them for free." She pauses, contemplative. "I was thinking about my mother." Vax hums, encouraging her to continue. "Nel has been a blessing, I think we both can agree, and I cannot imagine getting through this without her wisdom and guidance. But...I do wish I also had my mother's."

His arms tighten around her. "So do I. I also wish...I wish I had a father, a real father, to look to. My father is a prick, and I do not wish to emulate any of his parenting with our child."

Keyleth lets out a humorless laugh. "You with no father and I with no mother. We are quite the pair to be raising a child together."

Vax presses his hands down to the curve of her belly, and Keyleth can feel the familiar knocks from the inside of their baby reaching out for him. "I think...we shall do the best we can. We will take your father's advice and my mother's memory and Nel and Derrig's expertise and our friends' help and we will somehow, with the blessings of the gods, not fuck this up."

That earns a laugh from Keyleth. "Yes, that is the goal." She rests her hands atop Vax's. "I am so glad that we are doing this together. I saw how my father struggled to be my only parent, and...I would not wish to have that fate."

He brings his lips to her neck, kissing her once before saying low in her ear, "There is nowhere else in the world or the next I would rather be than right here, with the two of you."

She tips her head back against his shoulder and lets her eyes slide closed, content and warm even against the crisp spring air.

Just in time for her flowerbeds to bloom, Keyleth is consigned to full bed rest, with Nel brooking no arguments on the matter. The prescription came after a rather harrowing afternoon when Keyleth, in one of her limited sojourns to the castle for work, became light-headed and nearly toppled down a flight of stairs, kept upright only by Derrig's quick action. Vax is worried less by this event and more by Keyleth's quiet acquiescence to the directive. She's been more and more tired lately, even as the council has taken on a greater share of her duties, and Vax sees her tensing up more frequently against some pain or discomfort that she rarely shares with him. For her to accept Nel's edict so easily, knowing as he does her dedication to her work, feels like a great weight upon his chest.

He has all but abandoned his own work as well, only rarely straying from Keyleth's side. He reads to her, cooks more food than she can possibly keep down, and leads her on slow, careful turns about the garden to prevent clots and bedsores. He has devised a game in which he comes up with the most eccentric, horrible names for their child and tries desperately to get her to agree to them, which at least serves to distract her from her soreness.

Korrin comes to the cottage nearly every day, often taking his lunch with Keyleth, who eats what she can at their small dining table. The sovereign does his best to buoy her spirits, reminding her of her mother's own struggles during pregnancy and how proud he is of her tenacity and strength, but Vax finds that after these visits, Keyleth seems even more tired and anxious than she had been before. Percy and Vex come to call as well, although their visits usually entail Percy taking Vax's place by the bed and Vex dragging her brother outside for some air. Vax knows that his sister worries about him, worries about both of them, but there is little he can do to reassure her when he worries himself.

The spring wears on, and Keyleth wears down. Nel is keeping track of her stomach's swelling, and she says with confidence that the baby is still growing, but Vax can see Keyleth once more wasting away before his eyes. Every day, her skin is a bit more pale, her cheeks a bit more sunken in, her eyes a bit less bright. He sits with her and holds her hand and sends up a continuous prayer to the Raven Queen, who so generously spared her life once before, to beg for her life, for both of their lives. He has never felt more helpless, more impotent in his entire life than he does holding her cold hand, listening to her shallow sleeping breaths.

Of course, Keyleth, being Keyleth, attempts to brush away any and all concern, insisting that she is fine and that the bed rest is doing wonders. Vax knows she is lying, Nel knows she is lying, her father knows she is lying, but the lie seems so important to her, so they let her keep it. She jokes with Percy and loses card games to Vex and lets the triplets come in and tell her all about what they learned in lessons that day, but when everyone has gone home and it is just the two of them left, she ducks her head against Vax's shoulder and weeps silently, exhausted and aching. Vax just holds her, stroking her hair and whispering his love to her, over and over and over.

Black. When Vax opens his eyes—when he assumes he opens his eyes—all he sees is black, an inky darkness that is at once familiar and unsettling. Unlike his last time facing his matron, he does not wait. He calls out, "My lady?"

He feels the mask's presence before he sees it; in a blink, it is there. "Vax'ildan. My chosen."

He has not heard this voice since the night he believed himself moments from death. It sends a shiver rippling across his skin. "I have not been serving you as I should," he confesses, bowing his head. "I apologize for my negligence. I just...my wife..."

"Your child."

Vax blinks, feeling first surprised, then foolish for his shock; of course the goddess of fate would have already begun weaving a tapestry for his unborn child. "I find myself unable to leave them, in case..." He swallows, and asks the thing of the Raven Queen he is most afraid to know. "Are they fated to die?" Anticipating her response, he clarifies. "Are they fated to die now, as a result of this pregnancy?"

The mask, infuriatingly, is expressionless. The voice, smooth and soft, seems to emanate from just behind his left ear. "Death comes for your family, my Champion. Death, and undeath." Whatever body Vax has in this space is on the verge of collapsing. "It is choices, Vax'ildan, that determine where their next threads lie. I offer you this warning: keep that which you love most close to you. Fate is not as certain as mortals like to believe. You may pull at the threads, as much as I allow. Pull carefully, my chosen. Their lives depend on it."

Vax blinks again, and he is awake, staring at the ceiling. His head falls to one side to see Keyleth, sleeping in an awkward configuration of pillows and blankets, and the shadow of a now-familiar elbow running along the inside of her belly. He places a hand over it and whispers, "I will break the world for you." He rolls to lie along Keyleth's side, pulling her as close as he dares without waking her, and he does not sleep another wink.

When she confirmed Keyleth's pregnancy, Nel estimated that she was, at the time, roughly two months along, which the midwife did not find surprising, given Keyleth's slight frame. That would put her expected due date in late spring into early summer. This expectation is why Vax flies into a panic when early one mid-spring morning, as he is assembling a bowl of porridge that should not disagree with Keyleth's stomach, a sharp cry erupts from the bedroom. He drops his ladle and rushes inside to find his wife clutching her rounded belly, now quite large, with the sheets thrown back to reveal a spattering of blood across them.

Vax freezes, and then his body moves on its own. He spins for the front door and rips it open, and mercifully sees Derrig approaching for the beginning of his guard duty. "Get Nel now!" Vax shouts at him, and Derrig doesn't hesitate, immediately sprinting back the direction from which he came. Vax slams the door and flies back into the bedroom, where Keyleth is breathing heavily between pained cries. She clutches at his arm the moment he's next to her. "Vax." Her voice is thin. "Something isn't right."

He takes her hand and presses his fingers to the inside of her wrist. Her pulse is thready, weak. Terror grips his throat. "Nel is coming. Everything is going to be fine." He's not sure which of them he's trying to convince. "Let's get you cleaned up a bit, yeah?"

He dashes to the kitchen sink to wet a towel before returning to clean off her sweat-soaked face. He then cleans as much of the blood from her legs as he can, but there is so much, and his hands shake. Keyleth's breaths are coming shallow and hard and her eyes are closed, and for once, Vax is glad that they're not open to see what he's seeing.

It takes about fifteen minutes for the doors to burst open, Nel flying in with her satchel of midwifery tools and Derrig hot on her heels. She immediately begins barking out orders, which the two men follow without question, moving Keyleth into helpful positions and throwing the curtains back to let in as much light as possible. Nel settles herself between Keyleth's legs and asks her questions: how much pain is she in, where is the pain, when did it start, can she feel the baby moving? Keyleth answers as best she can, though her responses are interrupted by frequent yelps and groans. Through it all, the blood doesn't stop.

"We need to deliver now," Nel announces.

Keyleth, who is half-propped up on some pillows and squeezing Vax's hand, whimpers. "But...it's so early."

Nel pats her leg sympathetically. "I'm sorry, Your Highness, but..." Vax watches her edit her thoughts before she says them aloud. "I believe it is in the best interests of your health and the child's to deliver now."

She digs around in her bag to begin making a poultice that she explains will induce labor. As she works, she motions for her husband to come closer. When he does, Vax watches her whisper in his ear, "Get the sovereign, just in case."

Vax can't feel his body. He can't feel Keyleth's hand in his or his feet on the floor or his breath in his lungs. Death comes for your family, the Raven Queen told him. He moves automatically when Nel instructs him to climb onto the bed behind Keyleth, supporting her back, and there is a thin, high-pitching ringing in his ears. He surrounds his wife as best he can, bringing her back to rest against his chest. Her head tips back against his shoulders, and he almost doesn't hear her when she murmurs, "Vax?"

He smiles down at her, though the expression feels hollow, fake. "Yes, my love?"

"Will you..." Her voice breaks. "Will you tell our baby how much I loved them?" Tears topple from her eyes. "Will you let them know how sorry I am?"

Her words, their heartbreak and their resignation, alight a fury in Vax that he has not felt since Gaben Finefirn appeared in the middle of the night all those months ago. He curls around Keyleth to look her dead in the eye. "You are not going anywhere," he tells her, and much to his own surprise, he believes what he's saying. "You are going to bring our beautiful child into this world and you are going to help me raise them and you are going to rule a nation, do you understand me?"

She nods, but the tears don't stop. Vax pulls her close against him and takes each of her hands in his. Nel looks up at them from the base of the bed. "Your Highness, I'm going to begin the process of inducing labor. Your pain will likely increase, but I hope that the labor won't take too long, given your baby's current size."

Keyleth nods weakly, and Vax squeezes her hands. "You are strong," he whispers in her ear, "the strongest person I have ever met. I know you can do this." And when she squeezes his hands in return, it feels like a promise.

When the sovereign enters the princess's cottage at a near sprint, Percy is only moments behind, with poor Pike running as fast as she can to catch up. The main living area is empty, but behind the closed door of the bedroom, they can hear muffled voices and sounds of pain. Derrig, who led the troupe there, says, "Let me check on them," before disappearing behind the door.

The sovereign begins to pace from the front of the little house to the back, flinching every time a particularly loud cry emanates from the bedroom. Percy looks to him and says, "Sovereign, I'm sure she'll be alright—"

"None of us is sure of that," the sovereign snaps, and Percy falls silent. He's right, of course; Percy has no way of knowing if his friend, the closest thing he has left to a sister in this world, will survive the day. When the bedroom door opens again, his heart leaps in hope, but Derrig calls for Pike, and the two of them disappear again.

It is just Percy and the sovereign now, and he loses all ability to gauge the passage of time as they wait, the sovereign pacing, Percy leaned up against the mantle, too nervous to sit. The sounds coming from the bedroom are horrifying; he can hear clearly Keyleth's very obvious distress, almost animalistic, primal. Percy thinks about his own mother, whose face he can hardly remember anymore, and how she did this seven times. He thinks about Vex, and for a fraction of a moment, allows himself to wonder what a younger version of himself might look like with her thick dark hair and pointed ears.

Standing here, arms crossed, with nothing to do but bear witness, he feels like a fool, like a little boy, with no real sense of the world. Keyleth is a princess, someday a sovereign, and this is the lens through which he has always viewed her, even after she had become his closest friend. But hearing her cries of anguish, Vax's low murmurs of comfort, he realizes that she is a woman, a wife, gods willing, a mother. These are all pieces of her he has chosen to overlook, and he closes his eyes and prays to whatever deities are listening a promise to love each of those pieces as dearly as he loves the princess, if only they give her the strength to hold on.

It must be hours, he assumes, of quiet with the sovereign, who at some point throws himself onto the sofa and buries his head in his hands. Percy doesn't move, just stands by the fireplace and watches the bedroom door. Shortly after midday, the front door whips open again, and an irritated Vex'ahlia storms in, dressed in her full Captain's regalia. She gives a short bow to the sovereign before rounding on Percy. "Anything you care to share, Percival?"

Percy blanches. "I'm so sorry. Everything happened so quickly and then..."

Frustrated, Vex abandons her bow at the door and stalks into the kitchen, where she begins to brew some tea. She pours cups for the three of them, and then they wait as a trio, the sovereign on the sofa, Percy by the mantle, and Vex hovering near the front window, eyes darting nervously between the garden outside and the bedroom door.

Time wears on, and the sounds of anguish crescendo, agonizingly louder and louder, and Percy's heart is a manic drumbeat in his chest. And then, suddenly, there is silence. For the first time since they arrived in the cottage, there is no sound coming from behind that door, not even a whisper. The sovereign looks up from his hands, and Percy sees a man in terror.

They wait. The seconds drag on. The door remains closed. Percy does not breathe. And then—a mercy. A cry, sharp and shrill. Percy exhales, slumping back against the wall and Vex comes to throw her arms around his neck. The sovereign runs a tired, relieved hand over his face. He stands and resumes his pacing, and Percy knows that he wants nothing more than to knock down the door, but together they wait, listening to the miraculous symphony of a newborn's cries.

When Nel lays the baby, squalling and wet, onto Keyleth's chest, Vax stares in awe. He cannot take his eyes off the tiny, curled toes or the squashed nose or the just barely pointed ears or the fingernails! Why does a baby need fingernails? He is barely breathing as Keyleth brings a shaking hand up to brush their daughter's round cheek, stroke back the fine wisps of hair atop her head. His miracles, both of them.

There's a thick, fleshy cord still attached to the baby's navel, and Nel asks Vax if he'd like to cut it. Shaking and nervous, he grabs one of his daggers from where he keeps it under his pillow and carefully, so carefully, reaches around Keyleth and slices it. Derrig then comes over to take the baby over to a small basin to clean her. Keyleth's whole body tenses when his arms reach out for her, but Vax, still settled behind her on the bed, kisses her cheek and murmurs, "He'll bring her right back, it's alright." She nods hesitantly and lets her go.

While Derrig cleans the newborn, Nel and Pike get to work doing the same for Keyleth. They help her through the afterbirth process, and then Pike lays hands on her leg and slightly deflated stomach and bows her head. Warm golden light fills the room, and Vax watches Keyleth's entire body relax, the color returning to her face. He sighs in relief when she says, "Oh Pike...words cannot describe how much I needed that."

Pike pats her leg. "We can't be losing you, can we?"

Derrig returns with the baby, and Keyleth curls around her, pressing her close to her skin. Vax hooks his chin over Keyleth's shoulder to marvel at the splay of eyelashes—eyelashes!—across her cheeks. When Nel is finished with her work, she comes up to begin gently prodding at the baby, who wails in protest. "She is small," she announces, "but with excellent lungs, which is good, though perhaps not for your sleep. I would limit her exposure to the world for a little while, until she can grow a bit stronger. But congratulations, Your Highness, Champion. You have a healthy baby girl."

Vax is sure that his heart is to give out at any moment. "What do you think?" he asks quietly. "The name we discussed?"

Keyleth smiles. "I think my father will like it." She looks up at Derrig then. "Is he here?"

Derrig nods. "With Lord Percival and Captain Vex'ahlia, Your Highness."

Nel and Pike make sure Keyleth is appropriately covered before Derrig swings the door open to invite those waiting inside. The former appears first, eyes wide and mouth agape, and Vex and Percy's faces appear just behind. Keyleth shifts so they can better see their daughter's face. "Papa, Vex, Percy...I'd like to introduce you to Vilya of the Ashari Nation."

Nel, Derrig, and Pike exit the room to give them some privacy. Korrin comes over to stand beside his daughter, gazing down at the infant in her arms with adoration. "Oh, Keyleth." He bends down to kiss the crown of her head. "She is perfect."

"Let me see!" Vex rushes around to the opposite side of the bed, peering at the baby. "Brother, look! She has our mother's nose."

"Based on the crying we heard earlier, she'll have your mouth." He jolts when Vex reaches out to pinch him.

Percy hovers near the foot of the bed, wide-eyed. "And how are you feeling, Keyleth?"

Keyleth sighs. "I am feeling everything. This is a happiness beyond anything I could have imagined for myself." She pauses. "I am also very tired."

Korrin places a hand on her cheek. "You should rest, then. Let us get out of your hair."

Keyleth frowns, looking down at Vilya and clearly not wanting to close her eyes for even a moment. Vax knows she needs to sleep, though, and also knows that if his sister doesn't hold her niece soon, she's going to explode. He carefully slides off the bed, out from behind Keyleth, and coaxes the baby off of her chest. It's his first time holding her, and he is so sure she is going to break. "You rest," he says, urging his wife to lay down. "We'll be just outside."

Keyleth has little fight left in her. Her eyes easily slide closed, and before he leaves the room, Vax bends down, cognizant of the tiny person in his arms, and murmurs in her ear, "I am so proud of you, Kiki."

Once everyone has gathered in the common area, Vilya becomes the star of the show. The newborn, all pink and sleepy-eyed, is passed from person to person, and each face lights up when she is cradled in their arms. Vax sees tears in the sovereign's eyes as he holds his granddaughter, and when Vex holds her, she paces a large circle, cooing at her with a wide grin. Vax watches her, still disbelieving of the way the day turned out. The Raven Queen's warning echoes in his ears, death and undeath, and now that they are here, his wife and child both blissfully alive, he can admit to himself that he has spent every minute since that dream in abject terror of losing either of them. He can't but believe, then, that his matron's warning was not in regards to his child's birth after all, but rather something else entirely. He knows this should concern him, that as her Champion she has called him to face this challenge head-on, but today, he is a father, and the gods simply must wait.

As he watches his sister pace from his seat on the sofa, he notices Percy, just next to him, watching her too. Vax leans over to Percy and mutters, "You know, my sister has always wanted children of her own."

Percy gives him a withering side glance. "Is that so."

Vax shrugs. "Just thought that might be something you'd like to know."

Despite his annoyance, Percy claps him on the shoulder. "I know we have not always...seen eye-to-eye, especially where Keyleth is concerned. But you have made her exceptionally happy, and for that you will always have my thanks."

Vax watches his sister play with his daughter's impossibly tiny fingers. "Well you've repaid the favor with my sister, so I suppose that makes us equal."

"I suppose it makes us brothers."

Vax gives Percy a long, curious look before wrapping him up in a hug. Perhaps it is the ecstasy of his new child's arrival to the world, but for the first time since he was a boy, he feels as though his family, as big and complicated and confusing as it is, is finally complete.

Night has fallen, and the little family is alone. Keyleth's father, Percy, and Vex left with promises of another visit tomorrow, and Nel, whom they thanked profusely for her prodigious work, has already warned them that she and Pike will be returning frequently to check on mother and daughter. But for now, Keyleth and Vax stand in their little second bedroom, which has been furnished with a small chest of drawers, a rocking chair, and the Syngornian cradle, inside which rests Vilya, swaddled in the blanket of Ashari colors gifted to Keyleth by one of her people. They peer down at her, Vax curled around Keyleth from behind, and watch the infinitesimal rise and fall of her chest, each breath, to them, a miracle.

"Look what you did, Kiki," Vax whispers in her ear. "Look what beauty you've given us. A thousand lifetimes and I will never accomplish a feat half as extraordinary as this."

"I can't believe this is real," Keyleth breathes, squeezing Vax's hands atop her stomach. "I thought...I was so sure..."

Vax has always been able to hear her unsaid thoughts. "You thought you were going to die." It's not a question.

She was sure of it, sure that she would not live to see her daughter's first sunrise. She could feel the vitality leeching out of her with every minute of that arduous labor, and it is only by Nel's expertise and Pike's magic that she is able to stand here and gaze down at the most perfect of all the gods' gifts. "I hope you know that I wasn't...giving up. When I said those things to you. I truly believed that I would not be here to tell her how fiercely I love her." Though she would have thought herself all dried out, more tears spill down her cheek. "And now I get to tell her every day."

Vax kisses her tears away. "It is indescribable, my gratitude. For you, for her. For this life we are building together. I never would have believed myself capable of such joy. I thank you for sharing it with me."

Keyleth twists her head to kiss him. She knows that this slice of contentment cannot last forever. Some day, she will rule her people, and there will be great demands on her time and burdens on her shoulders, and those things will eventually be passed onto her daughter, but for tonight, the three of them are the entire world.

After a while, Vilya wakes up with a crackling wail—such sweet music, the cries of her baby—and Keyleth feeds her; despite such a difficult pregnancy and tumultuous birth, Vilya mercifully took to breastfeeding like a duck to water. Once the baby is sated, Keyleth stands from the rocking chair and says to Vax, "There is someone I should like to introduce her to. Come with me?"

She watches Vax look out the window at the dark castle grounds with uncertainty, but she knows his reluctance to deny her anything, so he nods and follows her out of the cottage. Vilya is tightly bundled against the evening chill, and Keyleth doesn't plan to be outside for long, but she still curls the baby tight against her body. She leads the way to the cherry tree, whose blooms are turning pink and vibrant. They stand beneath the branches, father, mother, and daughter, and Keyleth murmurs, "Mother, I'd like you to meet your granddaughter, Vilya."

The wind shushes through the branches, and a few cherry blossoms sway toward the ground. Vax once again wraps his arms around the two of them, warding off the cold and keeping Keyleth from trembling. "She is named for you," Keyleth continues, "because I hope she grows to have your confidence, your grace, your love. Our people lost a wise and compassionate leader when we lost you, and all I can do is attempt to raise my child to share in these traits, to be the queen that you were in what little time we had you."

She sniffs, thumbing away tears from her eyes. As she composes herself, she is surprised to hear Vax speak. "Your Majesty, I thank you for your daughter. Without her, I would have been lost to the shadows, never more than a bastard and a rogue. But she saw in me a light I thought long extinguished, and now I am the happiest man to have ever lived. I am a husband and a father and a tool of the gods, and I owe every bit of it to Keyleth, and by extension, to you. I am most regretful that you cannot be here with us, but I swear to you, by the moon above, that I will care for them both with all that I have to give. As long as there is breath in my lungs, they will be loved, they will be cherished, they will be protected. You have my word."

Keyleth tips her head onto his shoulder and looks down at the half-dozing baby in her arms. Tomorrow, Keyleth will once more be a princess, and her little daughter, still in her first hours of life, will become one as well, and all of the trappings and revelries of the crown will herald the arrival of the next heir to the Ashari throne. But tonight, beneath this spring moon and the branches of her mother's cherry tree, Keyleth can be a new mother, in the arms of her child's father, smiling down at her most beloved baby with a heart on fire.

#well ain't this a big boy #buckle up kiddos #critical role #critical role fic #cr fic #vaxleth #vaxleth fic #vaxleth au #vox machina #vox machina au #tlovm #tlovm fic #my fic #my fair lady

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formulawolff · 8 months ago

Text

vii. the in-between - t.w.

pairing: female driver! x toto wolff

word count: 5.2k

warnings: buckle up y’all cause we go. angst, cursing, size kink, edging, praise kink, FUCKING, LOTS OF FUCKING. toto being a simp, banter, yearning, mentions of divorce, mentions of alcohol use, creampie, teasing, yadayadayada… y’all know what’s about to go down

prev. | next.

“it’s fine, mom. really.”

bringing a hand to your temple, you begin to massage, attempting to alleviate the accumulated pressure.

“i mean, yeah, i’m not in trouble or anything. as far as i know, the fia is letting me race in suzuka. it was my first offense so they dropped the investigation. as long as i publicly apologize for my actions, everything will be cleared up.”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

do you know how many people have asked me about you? baby, people approach me at the goddamn grocery store asking me why you beat up that poor little british boy! he’s built like a twig for god’s sake!

rolling your eyes, you lean back in your chair, keeping the phone pressed against your ear, “mom, his name is george russell. he drives for mercedes. he’s not some little boy.”

all right, all right. well maybe he needs to come over for some dinner or something. get some meat on those bones. anyway, did i tell you that your father has been scouring ebay trying to purchase sports cards with your car on it? well, he’s found ones with you on them too. he wants to make a booklet of his favorite kiddo.

with that discovery, your heart swells, “is he really? tell him to look up topps chrome cards. those are the best ones. since i’m not as popular as max or lewis, they should be pretty cheap. and mom, i’m your only kiddo.”

that’s why we’re so proud of you. even if you get into fist fights, we still love you bunches. when do you think you’ll come home? your dad wants to take you out in his baby. he’s made some modifications to it. he thinks you’ll appreciate it more than i will.

“where is dad? is he asleep?”

yes honey. he’s asleep. snoring away on the couch with the dogs. i wish we could give you a taste of home somehow. maybe i could have a care package sent to japan?

“mom,” you exhale, “that would be so much money. don’t worry about it. were you guys considering flying out for miami?”

oh yes, about that! you perk up in your chair, anticipating your mom’s response. we are going to be there. we can’t wait to see you. we miss you so much. it’s so quiet when you’re not home. will i be able to meet some of your coworkers?

letting you a giggle, you shake your head, “mom. they’re my fellow drivers. we’re not coworkers. but yeah, i could probably introduce you to a few of them. daniel wants to meet you two.”

what about that handsome fellow with the bright blue eyes? he drives for redbull! and yes, i would love to meet daniel.

“max verstappen?” you arch a brow, “we’d have to see about that one. he’s a very busy man.”

okay, okay. the line cuts out briefly. hey honey, i think i need to head to bed. i love you so much. keep in touch, okay? we’ll see you in a few short weeks.

nibbling on your lower lip, you nod, “i love you too, mom. tell dad i love him. i miss you guys. i can’t wait to see you.”

me either. goodnight honey, or good morning or afternoon or whatever time it is over there. i’ll text you when i wake up! love you.

“love you,” your lip trembles, hands clamming up as you the line goes silent.

fuck, were you homesick.

you just had to make it a few more weeks. then, you could finally reunite with your parents in miami. although you knew you would be so fucking busy, you would make time.

you always did when it came to your parents.

also, you had another plan brewing as you scroll through your contact list, searching for a certain dutch assassin. a certain dutch man who happened to be a three-time world champion.

somehow, someway, your mom was going to meet max verstappen.

you had to make that happen.

you had to.

currently, you were sitting on the edge of a bed in a suite in london, anxiously awaiting the arrival of your driver. a decently-sized suitcase sat near the door, a carry-on stacked on top.

this driver was provided specific instructions to transport you from london to brackley, dropping you off at the door of a certain team principal’s home.

yet, you were well aware that it wasn’t going to be just any old home.

this man was billionaire, after all.

buzzing in your grasp, your phone notifies you of a new text.

from none other than toto wolff.

the driver is on the elevator, heading up towards your suite. DO NOT handle your bags. he will do that for you. i don’t want you to fuss over a single thing. from there, he will bring you here, where he will punch in the code for the gate. i will be waiting for you at the door.

i can’t wait to see you, schatzi. i miss your beautiful face and sweet laughter.

oh, and i can’t wait to kiss you.

(and yes, i am pacing around in my office as i type this. i can’t focus on anything else but your arrival)

with sazuka quickly approaching next week, you would only have a couple of days with the team principal before you had to part ways. he would have prep, meetings, press, where he would then fly out to sazuka. meanwhile, you would have to catch a flight, meet with your team, prep, and potentially meet with press, fans, and the other drivers.

additionally, you had to address the incident that occurred last week at the australian grand prix. to your surprise, the fia had dismissed the investigation, finding no substantial evidence that the two of you needed to be punished. due to the nature of the accident, george was not punished, as he did no illegal maneuvers or intentionally attempted to take you out of the race.

on the other hand, the fia was adamant that if this happened again, you were going to face consequences. you would have to shell out a pretty penny for fines, and then you would be immediately disqualified from three future races, deeming you unable to participate.

although they were merciful, the fia made it very clear that since it was your first offense, they were going to be fair..

however, if there was a next time, they would not be so kind.

a crisp knock rang out, startling you.

springing to your feet, you open the door, an older man smiling in greeting.

“you must be golden girl,” sticking out his right hand, he dips his head, “i’m theodore. i’ll be your driver to brackley this evening. i am here to not only be your escort, but to tend to anything you may need. mr. wolff made it very clear that you were not to fret over a single thing.”

“good morning,” the corners of your lips curl into a quaint smile as you shake his hand, “thank you. i’m eager to see the english countryside.”

“i’ll handle your bags ma’am,” theodore clears his throat, “you just take it easy.”

“will do,” you nod, “how long is the drive?”

“about an hour and a half,” theodore responds curtly, slinging your carry-on around his shoulder, “don’t worry, it’s not too boring. follow me this way, my lady. our chariot awaits!”

following him down the hall, he presses the button for the elevator. there’s a silence between you, but not an uncomfortable one. theodore’s presence was warm, inviting even.

upon meeting him, you understood why he was toto’s right-hand driver. once he escorted you to the car, he opens the door for you, ushering you inside. when you settle into the backseat, you notice the glint of a redbull can, along with your favorite snacks and candy.

“mr. wolff wanted to ensure you wouldn’t be hungry,” theodore states as he climbs into the driver’s seat, pressing the button for the ignition, “he told me that you can be a little cranky if you don’t have any snacks.”

“oh? he said that?” a giggle bubbles up in your throat, “did he say anything else about me?”

“oh yes,” theodore chuckles, turning the gear shift, “he’s told me all about you. to be quite frank, he hasn’t shut up about you the last week or so.”

“so you know who i am?”

“of course i do,” theodore nods, flashing you a grin in the rearview mirror, “you’re one of the best formula one drivers on the grid. you drive for williams racing. you’ve only won one grand prix, but i believe you’ll win a few more this season. your hometown is in yuma, arizona. you’re twenty-two years old, and from what toto has shared with me, you have a very bright future ahead.”

“are you a formula one fan?” you arch a brow, punching open the can of redbull.

“who isn’t?” he shrugs, “well, ms. golden girl, we are going to begin our journey. if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to speak up. if you’d like, you can tell me a little bit more about yourself. we will have plenty of time.”

as theodore promised, the drive to brackley was painless. yet, as the car pulls up to the gate, your heart skips a beat.

this was no quaint english cottage.

toto’s brackley residence was a sleek and sprawling two-story home, a black and white exterior with massive, thick windows. your jaw almost drops, and theodore notices, letting out a hearty laugh, “don’t act so shocked, golden girl. i’m sure you’re aware toto is a very wealthy man.”

“i thought he would have kept things somewhat simple.”

“oh love,” theodore shakes his head, “you and i both know that toto is anything but simple.”

rolling down the window, theodore punches in a code, the gate sliding open. as the car lurches up the drive, your heart thumps in your rib-cage, blood roaring in your ears.

this was really happening.

you were really staying with toto.

“nervous?” theodore senses the shift in energy, “you have no reason to be nervous. he’s been anticipating your arrival. he’ll be happy to see you.”

“thank you,” you manage to muster a meek smile, “i-i just didn’t think we would get this far.”

“well savor the time together. time flies, especially in our world. one day you’re at a track, the next you’re in another country. he adores you, golden girl. so don’t you fret about that. just relax, and enjoy your time. i will be here in a couple of days to bring you to the airport for your departure to sazuka.”

“thank you,” at his words, you can’t help but let out a sigh of relief, “i look forward to our next drive together!”

“as do i,” shifting the gears, theodore puts the car in park, slipping out of the driver’s seat, “we have arrived. let me get your bags.”

he strolls over to your door, opening it as you clamber out, stretching your sore legs.

no matter how much time you spent in a car, there was always that persisting stiffness.

you’d probably need a double-knee replacement by the time you were forty, but that was the least of your worries.

out of the corner of your eye, you notice a figure strolling towards the car. with the large stature, you knew it could only be one particular individual.

he’s dressed in a royal blue button-up, paired with khaki slacks. on his feet are earth-toned dress shoes. the blue hue of the button-up complements his dark hair, almost brightening his features, giving them a youthful glow. tufts of his hair are all over as the wind blows.

yet, he looks as gorgeous as ever, his toned muscles rippling under the thin fabric of the button-up.

“welcome to brackley schatzi,” the grin enveloping his face is radiant, “i hope the drive wasn’t too bad.”

“not at all,” you shake your head, the team principal nearly sucking the wind out of your lungs as he wraps his arms around you, squishing you against his chest.

“i missed you so much,” tender lips connect with your cheek, “good afternoon, theo! did she behave herself?”

“of course,” theodore promptly places your bag next to the entrance, suitcase in tow, “i have another commitment here soon, mr. wolff. i hope it is all right i placed her bags next to the door?”

“don’t worry about it,” toto’s fingers find yours, intertwining them together, “i’ll get them. please drive safe, theo.”

“i will, mr. wolff,” theodore dips his head, turning to you, he takes your hand, shaking it, “it was lovely to meet you. i look forward to our next meeting, golden girl. enjoy your time together, you two!”

“we will,” toto squeezes your hand, “goodbye, theo.”

“goodbye, mr. wolff!” theodore spins on his heel, making his way to the car, “behave, you two!”

in response, toto gives a thumbs up, theodore slipping back into the driver’s seat. as he peels off, toto shifts his body, facing you.

“charming, isn’t he?”

“he’s great! kept me entertained the whole drive!”

“i told him you have a short attention span so to keep you occupied,” toto shooks you a wink, earning an eye roll.

“i can’t stand you.”

“you’re standing right now, aren’t you?” his chuckle is light, “come, let’s head on in. i have lunch waiting for us.”

“you made me lunch?”

“yes, i’m going to drive you all the way out here just so starve you,” he scoffs, yet his tone says otherwise, “i have food ready. and wine, if you want some.”

“don’t tell me you want to get me drunk so i’ll confess all my secrets.”

“consider that my new goal for the afternoon,” toto grabs your bag, along with your suitcase. pushing open the door, he clears his throat, “welcome to my home away from home.”

as you step in the entrance, your eyes widen, lips parting.

the space was truly a reflection of toto. refined and elegant, with a hints of charm. the marble floors gleam under the soft lighting, rays of sun shining through the vast windows. the walls were covered in a menagerie of decor, from pieces of art to mercedes memorabilia. it was not the typical billionaire’s home, where the air felt sterile and cold.

this place was warm and full of life, coaxing you to stay.

“cat got your tongue?” his breath fans against your ear, a hand gliding along your back, “follow me, schatzi.”

“your home is beautiful.”

glancing over his shoulder, you are met with his gorgeous smile, dimples and all, “thank you, love. i’m glad you like it.”

trailing behind the austrian, you stroll down a long hallway, turning into the last room on the left. toto places your bag and suitcase next to a glass door, “this is my bedroom. you’ll be staying here with me.”

“straight to the bedroom huh?” you fold your arms across your chest, teasing, “you just couldn’t wait–”

“come here,” toto growls, hands grasping your wrists, bringing you in, “no, i can’t wait.”

looking up, you match his gaze, cocking your head, “what are you going to do about it?”

at your rebuttal, toto’s eyes narrow, “what do you think i’m going to do?”

“fuck me.”

“hmmmm,” he hums, leaning in, “you’re right, schatzi. i am going to fuck you. i’m going to fuck you till you’re weeping me for me to stop.”

“weeping?” your hands roam, tugging on his button-up, “i’d like to see you try.”

“oh schatzi,” he tsks, “you don’t know what you’re in for.”

“show me then.”

“i will,” lips ghost over yours, “i’ll show you how badly i missed you baby.”

as he kisses you, it’s tender at first, brimmed with the sweetness of reunion. one of his hands wraps around the base of your neck, tilting your head back as his tongue gains access to your mouth, the tang of redbull tracing your mouth. yet, as you whimper, a fiery hunger sets ablaze.

fuck, he missed you.

he missed you more than he liked to admit.

tension hangs thick, clouding the space as his mouth places sloppy, wet kisses down your jawline, finding your neck. nipping gently, it takes every fiber in his being to resist the urge to just mark you all over. to leave marks where they could see. to make them wonder who was doing this to you.

but he couldn’t. not there.

in response, your hips buck forward, grinding against his. toto groans, his head rolling back.

there was not a single coherent thought in his mind.

only lust. and fuck, was it consuming him whole.

scooping you into his arms, he brings you over to the bed, your back meeting with the plush mattress.

“i can’t wait,” he pants, chest heaving, “i can’t wait any longer. i need you.”

“then take me,” your words drip like honey, oh so sweet, “make me yours, toto.”

jesus fucking christ.

he was going to fuck the shit out of you. right here, right now.

there was no going back.

he ached for it. he yearned for it. the fantasy flooded his dreams at night.

the things he wanted to do to you?

downright filthy. sinful, even

he couldn’t lose his inhibitions. not yet. he had to hang on.

however, at this point, toto was hanging on by a thread.

peeling your leggings and panties off, he tosses them to the floor, “sit up.”

you obey, nearly trembling with anticipation as fingertips hook the hem of your crewneck, pulling it over your head. nimbly, he hovers over you, finding the clasps of your bra. he undoes them, a crimson hue dusting his cheeks as he takes in the sight of you completely naked beneath him.

god, you were absolutely breathtaking.

every inch of you was stunning. every scar. every mole. every freckle. every stretch mark.

you were so fucking beautiful.

his hands fly to his button-up, eager for what was to come.

yet, your hands find his, “let me.”

toto bites his tongue as you carefully undo the buttons of his shirt, his cock twitching, aching for your touch as your fingers delve towards his belt. you unbuckle it, tilting your head back, batting your thick lashes.

fuck. fuck. fuck.

could this moment last forever?

“toto.”

“yes?”

“i-i don’t know if i can take it all,” there’s apprehension inflected in your tone, almost as if you were embarrassed, “to be honest, i’ve never–”

oh god.

this was going to ruin him.

just like he was going to ruin you.

“don’t worry,” a tender hand cups your cheek, the pad of his thumb caressing your cheekbone, “i’ll go slow. i won’t make you take it all. i’ll take care of you baby, i promise.”

you nod, lips pursed as you tug on his slacks, hooking the hem of his boxers, “you’re just so fucking big. like holy shit.”

pride swells within the austrian for a moment, a chuckle rumbling in his chest, “i promise you that it’s not as big as you think.”

“can i see for myself?” the question is so innocent, so pure.

yeah, he was going to ruin you.

he was going to make a mess out of you.

“lay down schatzi,” he orders, authority oozing into the words.

kicking off his slacks, he curses slightly as his boxers stick around one of his ankles. this wasn’t going to be perfect, but he wanted it to be. for you.

he wanted this to be a moment you remembered for the rest of your life. he wanted this memory to fill your thoughts every second of every day. he wanted you to touch yourself to this, desperate and oh so wet, throbbing for him. yearning for his mouth. for his touch. for him.

carefully, he climbs onto the bed, hovering over you. as you look down, you can feel his gaze searing into you, burning right through.

his cock was far bigger than your fantasies. it was thick, approximately eight or nine inches. you couldn’t tell. his tip was tinged pink, the glisten of precum catching in the light. veins wrapped around the length, throbbing as your hand wrapped around its base.

“fuck,” as he moans, you lick your lips, realizing how much you loved the sound that just filled your ears, “let me feel you, please.”

“please toto.”

swallowing thickly, he inhales sharply as he positions his tip at your entrance. applying pressure, a whimper rings out as he pushes in, your walls stretching.

your pussy was heaven. absolutely perfect as it wrapped around his cock, begging for more as he pushed further and further. you were absolutely drenched, the juices slick and oh so sickeningly sweet. he didn’t even have to taste you to know. he just knew you were sweet. like pure ambrosia.

perhaps he could get a taste.

“toto,” your lashes flutter, his name so perfect from your lips, “you feel–”

“your pussy is perfect,” he finds a steady rhythm, pumping in and out of your tight hole, “absolutely perfect baby. fuck, you’re perfect.”

skin connects with skin, the temperature of the room elevated as his hands found yours, pinning them to the bed. lips collide, the kisses desperate, hungry and bursting with need. as he picks up the pace, moans fill his mouth.

fuck, it felt like he was going to split you into two.

“t-toto,” there it was again, his name. music to his ears.

“yes baby?” a sheen of sweat clings to his forehead, tufts of hair dampened, “what is it? does it hurt? do you need me to slow down?”

“no. fuck me. just fuck me.”

oh god.

oh, fuck.

his cock twitches, the pleasure building in your abdomen as the tip brushes your g-spot, back arching, begging to be closer. closer to him.

could you be any closer to him in this moment? was it even possible?

before you know it, his arms wrap around your frame, picking you up off the mattress. he holds you close to his chest, one hand holding your head, cupping the back of your skull. the other remains on your lower back, gripping you tightly as the new angle sends bliss rippling all throughout your body.

he fucks you, and god there was no holding back. his cock was pounding into you now, showing no mercy. your ass slaps against his thighs, filthy noises flooding the space.

as you bounce, you tense, your walls practically squeezing him, “toto, oh my god, i’m going–”

“good girl,” his coos, “be a good girl, baby. cum for me.”

as you get closer and closer, toto watches. fuck, the way your lips were parted ever so slightly. the way hairs clung to your forehead. the way your lashes fluttered. all he could see was pleasure. pure, intense pleasure.

you unravel, coming undone.

that sight alone was enough to make him cum.

“come here,” toto hisses through gritted teeth, “come here baby.”

the moment his lips mold with yours, you feel his cock throb, pumping threads of cum into your weeping hole. your muscles spasm, shuddering as he pulls out.

the two of you study one another for a moment, catching your breath. fingertips brush stray hairs from your temple.

“i’m sorry.”

“for?” you nuzzle into his collarbone, relishing the way his cologne lingered, mixing with his natural scent.

“going too far.”

“that was not too far.”

tenderly, the austrian pulls you down with him, letting out a sigh as his head hits the pillow. your head remains against his chest, admiring the definition and tone for a moment. he peppers kisses along your forehead, browbone, and cheeks.

“if i ever go too far, let me know.”

“i think we’re both in too deep,” you murmur, “you’re lucky you had the blinds drawn.”

“that would be something,” his chest vibrates as he speaks, “could you imagine? some random mercedes intern witnessing the team principal fucking the most beautiful woman on the planet?”

however, a gleam catches your eye.

on his left ring finger, your heart sinks as you notice the ring.

his wedding band.

toto senses your silence, the way you tensed up against him, “what is it schatzi?”

“why are you still wearing your wedding band?”

oh, so you had noticed.

“it’s complicated.”

“complicated?” your voice falters as you prop yourself up with your elbow so you could meet his gaze, “you’re wearing your fucking wedding ring. it’s not that complicated.”

“yes, i am, wearing my ring,” he exhales, “would you prefer me to take it off? it has no meaning anymore. susie and i are divorced. we finalized it last december. when we signed the papers, we made a mutual agreement to wear our wedding bands when we were in the public eye. it keeps the speculations at bay. it’s mostly for the sake of my children. and for her sake. we respect one another and i would hate for her hard work to be diminished by rumors and gossip.”

although his words were sincere, your heart races still, anxiety a swirling torrent in your stomach, “how long have you been separated?”

“almost three years. we separated in july of 2021.”

“oh,” you suck in a breath, shame washing over you, “i-i’m sorry for the sudden questions. i just–”

“it would complicate your feelings for me. and no one wants too mess around with a married man. i get it baby, i really do.”

although he provided a very base-level explanation of his failed marriage, toto was more than willing to go into more depth. that is, if you wanted. more than anything, he wanted you to know. that aspect was becoming increasingly frustrating, as the team principal tried to maintain that dominant, bold, persona.

you were making him weak. his little soft spot.

well, not so little these days.

“i cannot stand how well you read me,” rolling your eyes, you turn your back to him.

“don’t turn your back on me now,” he tsks, “do you believe me, schatzi?”

“i don’t think you could ever lie to me.”

“i couldn’t,” toto leans over, placing soft kisses all over your shoulders, “i think it would destroy me. the guilt would be too much to bear.”

“if we’re spilling secrets now,” you roll over, face-to-face once again, “i have another question for you.”

“all right.”

“why did you approach james about my contract behind my back?”

for once, the team principal is caught by surprise, his heart skipping a beat.

the hurt plastered across your features is clear, your brows furrowed, eyes narrowed. there’s a glimmer of anguish in their depths, slightly glossy from the threat of tears.

“i wanted to gauge how he felt if you were to leave williams,” that was the truth, really, no other intentions behind it, “he was not too keen to discuss it, but i just wanted to know how upset he would be if you were to sign with another team. i did it for you, to soften the blow.”

“soften the blow?”

“yes,” toto nods, “to soften the blow when you tell him you’re leaving williams and signing with mercedes.”

“you don’t know that for–”

“but i do,” his voice hardens, “i do know. we can’t just lay here and deny that in your heart, you want to be with me at mercedes. you’ve made the decision already. you just haven’t figured out how you’re going to approach james, alex, or your team.”

biting your tongue, you turn your head, averting his gaze.

toto was right. you had made your decision.

it was just a matter of time before you had to face the facts.

“i’m right, aren’t i?”

“you are,” you huff, squeezing your eyes shut, “i-i just don’t know how to tell everyone. i don’t know how to tell my parents. i don’t know how to bring it up to james. it’s just so.. fuck. it’s so fucking overwhelming to think about.”

“then let me help you.”

“how?” you inquire, “how would you possibly do that?”

“i’ll keep my distance from here on out, but i will help you draft up a letter that you can give to james. or, i can help you practice what you’re going to say. just let me help you schatzi,” fingers grasp your chin, turning your head.

“you hear me? i’ll help you.”

“can we just worry about it later?”

“of course,” strong arms envelop your frame, drawing you in against his body, “for now, we can snuggle. would you like that?”

“i would.”

your tough exterior completely crumbles as his mouth hovers by your ear, murmuring words in german. desperately, you ache to know what he said. was it something important? or just sweet nothings?

sometimes he was a difficult man to decipher.

“hey, have you opened that gift yet? the one i brought to you in jeddah?”

“no,” you admit, heat billowing into your cheeks, “i have a hard time accepting gifts.”

“clearly.”

before you can respond, he’s up from the bed, strolling over to your bags. unzipping your carry-on, he searches for that parcel. fishing it out of your bag, he sets in on the bed, sliding on his boxers before plopping it in front of you.

“open it. right now.”

“right now?” you echo, “toto, i–”

“open it.”

“fine,” nimbly, your fingers untie the bow, peeling away the wrapper.

underneath the paper, there is a tiny velvet box. it’s long and slender, rectangular in shape.

“what is this?”

“open it and you’ll know,” toto urges, following your every move, anticipating your reaction.

opening the box, your heart swells at the sight before you.

it’s a bracelet, a dainty figaro chain, complete with a charm. the charm is an outline of the saudi arabian track. picking it up, you inspect it, noticing a date engraved on the backside of the charm.

“how were you able to get this so quickly after the race?”

“i have my ways,” toto bears a sheepish grin, “do you like it?”

“like it? i love it.”

well, you didn’t love it. you fucking adored it. it was perfect, and so you. it was something that you could wear everyday, a constant reminder of the years of effort to get you here. not to mention it was gorgeous, the chain shiny, freshly polished.

a hand reaches out, plucking the chain from the box. his brows are knit together with concentration as he slips the chain around your wrist, ensuring it’s safely clasped.

“i figured it would be something you could always wear. a reminder of when you made history.”

“it’s beautiful,” sitting up, you shift your weight to your knees as you wrap your arms around his neck, “thank you, toto.”

“always, schatzi. don’t worry, i will always spoil you.”

as toto nuzzles into the crook of your neck, he was well aware of one thing.

you had made your decision.

you hadn’t outright said it, but he knew you made your decision.

you would be signing to mercedes for the 2025 season.

you were finally going to be by his side every day.

there was no more in-between. no more will she or won’t she. no more nights of him lying awake, wondering where you stood. no more driving himself insane pondering all of the possibilities that could unravel.

he had you.

you were all his now.

and god, did that leave such a sweet taste in his mouth.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

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#toto wolff #toto wolff x reader #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #toto wolff smut #toto wolff x y/n #toto wolff x you #female driver au #f1 x female reader #f1 x you #daniel ricciardo #max verstappen

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