#but as someone who knows period pains i can't imagine how much childbearing sucks

[royal-writer]

In a perfect world,

there is more than just you and I. In an ideal world, the sound of many feet run through our house. And we love wildly, and without remorse.

She got up in the middle of the night, and left him.

It was unusual behavior, but then again so was the situation. The doctor was quick to map out what they could expect as their new norm, now that Essätha was expecting. Most of it was plainly obvious information to Amon; trivial common knowledge. Other comments came with warnings to heed, some of which churned his stomach to think about.

He was asleep again, by the time the Lady of the estate returned to their bed. When the morning sun rose, he decided not to stir her. There was fatigue written on her face, and a mess of knots in the twists of ebony hair like she’d been tossing and rolling in the sheets through the night. Better to let her have some rest and comfort, while she could.

Breakfast was quiet. Many of the maidens held to their silence like himself while they ate at the table. Amon’s fork pushed around the contents on his plate a bit before he would take a bite. The room simply felt a little emptier, without the added light and chipper chatter of his wife to his side.

After finishing his meal, he paid thanks to the women and headed upstairs. There were harvest reports to look over, and a few certifications sent his way to look over pertaining to life, death, and marriage. Two of those tasks were were always easier than the one, but it was all under his ward to examine.

The hours of the morning crawled on as he flipped from ledger to ledger.  Memos lay scrawled out on parchment in his hand, and the careful penmanship of his of his name along with the stamp seal dotted some written documents. Dreary work. He raised his head to look at the bedchamber door as he dropped the quill beside the bottle of ink.

Still no sign of her, and the sun was high in the sky.

A knock rapped the door.

“Milord Amon?”

“Come in,” he grunted with the scrapping of his chair’s legs against the floor as he moved to stand.

The servicewoman dipped her head respectfully as he passed her, nodding his own head in greeting. She seemed to frown a touch as he moved away from her, heading for the bedroom door.

“Lunch is ready to be served, milord.”

Turning the doorknob, Amon gently pushed the door open to peek inside. It was bright. The sun beamed in from the windows upon the floor. Everything was awash with Pelor’s divinity; glowing softly.

The bed was empty; the sheets crumbled and tossed aside.

A worrisome grunt exuded him. “Lucelle, where is my fair Lady?”

He turned back, seeing the woman startle slightly as their eyes caught.

“Downstairs,” the miss answered. “She’s been in the bathroom much of the day so far, milord.”

His tongue darted out, licking his lips anxiously. When had she left? It had to have been around the time they were dining downstairs. He’d been in the sitting room the whole time since. But that was hours ago, now.

“Is she… alright?”

“A uh, a bit of nausea, milord.”

His forehead wrinkled with concern.

“Would you be so kind as to send word to the doctor?” he inquired, “I’ll go check on her.”

With a curtsy, the housekeeper murmured a few words and headed down the hall. Amon was not far behind her; shutting their bedroom door and briskly walking to head for the stairwell.

Down the steps and through the family room and kitchen, he made his way towards the washroom. Two maids hovered anxiously outside the door as he approached. One was holding a rag anxiously in her hands. It twisted in her grip in a troubled manner. The other tapped her knuckles to the door gently, fidgeting from foot to foot.

“My Lady, can we get you anything?” There was no answer from the latrine.

Clearing his throat as he moved closer, the two women jumped away from the door with apologetic bows.

“May I?” he inquired, gesturing to the room.

“O-Of course my Lord,” the elder of the two women stated with some surprise. “Call if you need anything, my Lord.”

The Briarton Lord nodded wordlessly, and advanced to the threshold. The tap of the woman’s flat soles moved away from him and down the hall as he opened the door, knocking gently on the doorframe. It smelled of sickness in the room; wafting out from the thin opening provided. He had to shallow his breathing not to choke on it. Dim of light, it looked more like a troll’s cove then a bathroom.

“Essätha my darling, might I come in?”

When there was no response after a patient pause, he slowly pushed the door open further.

Through the veil of a pale glow, Amon spotted the delicate figure slumped against the porcelain. Her head lay against the side of it. Mouth parted, an exhausted snoring escaped the Briarton Lady between undignified snorts and gasps. Her hair was still a wild mess, and a faint sheen of sweat glossed over her clammy ashen features.

He strode through the room in a few steps, and descended onto one knee beside her.

“Hey there, beautiful,” he cooed, wrapping a supportive arm around her dainty structure.

She slurred tiredly. The bright glow of her soft golden-brown eyes blinking up to him sluggishly as she roused from her slumber. Faded smudges were beneath her eyes in a troublesome sign of tiredness. Even still, she was the most ethereal creature he’d ever seen.

“Come my dear, let’s get you up to bed,” Amon comforted. “You look tired. A doctor should be on their way; we’re going to have them take a look at you.””

“S’morning sickness.”

“I know, darling. I know.”

Her head lulled for a moment as she pushed herself to her knees. He slid an arm against her, ready to help her up when a shudder moved over her spine. Hands suddenly shoved at his chest, pushing him back as she rolled over to clutch the side of the toilet.

Wincing in sympathy, Amon went to gather her hair back tenderly from her face. He placed his other hand to her back, massaging deep circles into her as she sank back down with an agonized moan.

“I’m sorry-”

“That’s okay, the doctor warned us about this,” he soothed. “What can I do for you? Do you want some water? Ginger tea? I can bring you some crackers or nuts if you’d like; the physician said those would be okay.”

She gave a tiny shake of her head, spitting into the bowl.

“Can you stay?” she rasped. “I’m tired, and I ache.”

“Yes; of course my sweet,” Amon murmured, planting a kiss to her shoulder as he sat closer. He leaned in close; his body heat nestling against her side. One hand wrapped in the tangles of her hair, anchoring it back as he rubbed her back with his other other.

“You’re doing amazing, Essie.”

“Amazing, huh?” she sighed, leaning her head into the cradle of his shoulder as she sat back. “I don’t feel amazing.”

“Morning sickness is a natural part of the process,” he reminded her gently. “We’ll see what the doctor suggests, along with the normal remedies. Being ill doesn’t make me any less proud or impressed with you. Just let me know what I can do to ease your burdens, and help you to feel better.”

“You’re a great husband, and an amazing father,” Essätha mumbled, her voice filled with emotion. “I’d kiss you right now, but…”

“Please, don’t.”

They shared a tired laughter. Curled up on the bathroom floor, Amon’s hand slipping over his darling wife’s hip to rub her tummy instead. Hoping the gesture would soothe the growing life inside, and give her some much needed rest as he rocked her gently in his embrace, with her settled in his lap.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Curse the world. Curse the gods. Curse everything.

Pregnancy put a glow upon you. And for the most part, Essätha was inclined to agree. There was no greater pride than knowing she was carrying the life shared between herself and the man she loved. More than anything, she was eager with anticipation to meet them. It mattered little who they were, what they became, what may come. She would love them, kiss upon their belly, wiggle all their toes and fingers as she counted them aloud to the tiny babe. A part of her, a part of Amon, all themselves. A unique and beautiful child who she would get the joys of helping to grow and nurture.

But then there was the moments like this. Essie could practically cry. Her eyelids couldn’t stay open she was so exhausted. Not that it mattered, because no matter which angle she tried to rest in, everything fucking hurt.

Another unsettled groan echoed in her throat, and she rotated her hips to flip around and try flopping the other way. It was a wonder Amon tolerated it; still laying on his side of the bed instead of heading to another room, or the sofa. Or kicking her out of the room.

The bed creaked quietly, but this time she was not the one moving. Her head turned, meeting Amon’s dark eyes with her soured face.

“Having trouble sleeping?”

The groggy, gruff sound of his voice that melted her heart did not soothe her crabbiness, for once.

“Yessss.”

Grunting, her beloved Lord reached out for her.

She pushed at his hand, hissing.

Panic flared in his wide eyes, and his nostrils flared. The hand retracted as he exhaled, speaking feverishly: “Did I hurt yo-”

“Don’t touch me,” she snapped squirming further into her side of the bed.

Dumbfounded, Amon pinched the bridge of his nose, and sighed.

“If it hurts my dear, perhaps you should tell me where so that I can make sure it is not of concern.”

“I hurt all over,” she muttered. Her lower lip began to wobble, and she moved to flop on to the other side, ignoring the concerned rumble moving through Amon’s chest as he reached for her once more.

“Ess’…”

“I’m fat and gross”

The room was silent. She could hear the soft sound of Amon’s breathing, but it was quickly becoming hard to as she whimpered and swallowed the lump in her throat.

She was tired. Tired, sore, and gaining weight. Her mood played tricks on her, and it was worse when she couldn’t get any damn rest.

But now her abdomen was starting to swell and gods be damned it sucked. How did people sleep when they were pregnant? Not to mention her wardrobe, which was all but packed away to make room for new clothes that she felt she was outgrowing but the week.

The bed bounced gently once more, and she grimaced. Essätha pulled herself into a tighter ball, blinking away her tears to glare at the far side of the room. A light presence of a hand brushed hair aside from her face and she grumbled unhappily.

“Essätha my darling, if you were not putting on weight, that wouldn’t be normal,” Amon assured in a soft voice. “Our little one is going to need that room and nutrition to grow.”

Some of the deep unhappy lines in her expression eased, but there was still a bitter note residing in her tone as she muttered, “I’m still unattractive. What are you going to do if I never drop all the baby weight? I’ll be gross forever.”

“You’re carrying a baby, Essie. There is nothing more inspiring or beautiful than that.”

Essätha placed her weight into her elbow, and turned over. Her eyes moved from Amon’s chest up to his eyes, flicking over his features and back again. His expression was innocent and gentle. Hiding from her nothing, as he gently stroked strands of hair out of her face.

“We should switch sides of the bed, until the pregnancy is over. Laying on your left side is supposed to be better for you. We can take some of the pillows, and use them for cushioning where you ache the most. And I can lay behind you, and be your spoon, if you’ll have me.”

She thought it over for a moment, before giving a sharp nod of her head.

With a smile, Amon rolled out of his side of the bed. It left a warm patch exposed, that she scooted into. It smelled richly of his shampoo and cologne, and she buried herself in his pillow as he climbed back in the other side.

Warm breath bathed her neck as he slid an arm around her, a hand moving over her abdomen.

“Better?”

A violent surge of lust had her heart racing. She gave a meek little nod, holding her teeth into her lip. Gods, her body didn’t know what the hell it wanted anymore.

His hand continued to idly circle over her baby bump as he spoke close to her ear: “You still look absolutely radiant and sexy, my darling Essätha. I loved you before, I love you still, and I will love you after you’ve given birth to our beautiful child. I love the extra softness and curves, and so will the baby. And if you shed all of them within a few weeks of having our little one, you will be just as alluring.”

An unabashed wanton moan lifted out of her in a sigh. She wriggled beneath the sheets, panting heavily as her hormones jumped wildly. Her rear pushed back, and a startled gasp escaped Amon as she pressed into him.

It gave her back her sanity, and a realization.

Heat flushing her features, Essie shifted to lean away from him.

“I- ehe, I didn’t mean to-”

The hand circling her stomach moved lower. Callused fingers teased the front of her sleep pants, and her breathing escalated hopefully.

“Mmm, I have an exercise in mind that might help you fall asleep faster,” he groaned, nipping her earlobe as he pressed the shape of his erection in her back.

Whining, she rocked her hips back. Her lips trembled; eyelashes fluttering as the tease of fingers dipped lower.

“Ooohhhh heavens above m’lord, don’t tease me, please…”

A grin pressed into her neck. The rough texture of his beard scrapping against her tender skin. He inched closer; molding himself to her back as his fingertips slid lower, until a keening note carried out of her lungs.

“Would it please my Lady to show her just how irresistibly sensual I still find her?” Amon teased, grinding his length into her in a slow, methodical measure.

“Yes, yes, please Amon-”

She barely managed to stumble the words out as he caressed her, a euphoric cry parting her lips.

She slept soundly as promised, well through the night and far into the afternoon resting on her left side, completely nude with a just as naked frame of her husband snoring peacefully against her back.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

There was inches between them, but his fingers rested over hers. It left a spark. A physical line to their connection. His rough fingers felt perfect against her.

On his cushion of the sofa, Amon held a volume of one of his books. It was the scientific study of rocks. It lacked crystal clarity as far as Essätha, could tell. One could only take it with a grain of salt.

She was enjoying a book written by an upcoming author. They had a sadistic way of twisting tales of joy upon you into sadness. It was probably not the wisest choice for a pregnant, hormonal woman to read. An older strapping painter taking ill, and how his devoted seamstress wife stayed by his side. No matter how much she held her breath that the outcome might change as the book retold encounters of their life and how it lead up to where they were, she held a sinking feeling inside how it would end.

Wetting her finger, she moved to turn the page as a flutter of discomfort pressed against her tummy.

Her eyebrows drew together, but she ignored it. Discomforts, she found, came and went a lot when you were carrying.

Driving her eyes across the page, Essie became quickly engrossed in the story once more. She could picture it so easily. The man and woman’s hands interlocked as the woman recounted their desperate escape from a burning building. The smell of smoke was almost in her lungs, and embers and soot in the air. She could imagine the terror as they tumbled out of the broken glass window; bloody and burned, to see the pyromancer casting the whole town ablaze.

A swift jolt of pain left her gasping, ripping her hand out from beneath Amon’s.

He fumbled with his book; dropping it from his hand and onto the floor with a thud. No place marker where he’d last had it open, but it was not a thought even on his mind.

She slid the novel off of her lap, reaching down to press a hand to her abdomen.

“Ess’?” Panic laced her husband’s tone as he reached for her arm.

“Oh,” she murmured with surprise. She inhaled slowly, wincing as a pressure seemed to hold to her lungs.

“Sit still, I’ll go get the doctor-”

“No, Amon, it’s fine. They’re moving.”

“Moving?”

“Yeah,” Essätha laughed, rubbing her hand slowly over her stomach. “Feisty, too. Building up muscle to be strong like their father, I see.”

She turned her gaze slowly to her husband. His eyes were wide and large with surprise still, but he wore a lopsided grin of delight. The same elation was in his gaze and softening the edges of his rounded cheeks.

Offering the flat of her hand, she made a beckoning gesture with her fingers.

“Want to feel?”

“Yes.” The response was instantaneous and breathless.

With a shy giggle Essätha wrapped her fingers against his hand as he placed it in hers. She pressed his palm to her tummy, around the region she last felt the strong kick.

They waited in silence. Seconds ticking by. Her face began to fall with disappointment even as Amon waited with a forced seriousness overlaying his smile. It was comical and ridiculous, to say the least.

Another flutter of movement.

“By Pelor’s Light,” he whispered; voice cracking at the end as tears began to surface and well up in the corners of his eyes.

Essätha grinned from ear to ear with glee. She pulled her hand away from his, allowing him to rub soothing circles against her stomach.

“That’s your baby, m’lord.”

Amon raised his gaze. Meeting her eyes, his jaw flexed beneath the shape of his beard as he cleared his throat.

“That’s our baby, my dear Essie.”

Heat crept up her throat and into her face, glancing shyly away from the intense depth of her beloved’s gaze. Her emotional spectrum was haywire enough without being overwhelmed by the look of love and worship in his eyes. Look to long, and she would unravel and become undone in a mess of tears with the fragility of her emotions.

Scooting across the furniture, Amon stretched out gradually, laying his head upon her lap. He cooed softly at her bump, pressing an ear against her tummy.

“What are you doing?” she mused lightly, reaching down to run her fingers through his hair.

“Shhh. Trying to listen.”

“For what?”

“A heartbeat.”

Giving a sigh, she shook her head. “You know the doctor said that’s nearly impossible without a-”

“Shhhh,” Amon hushed, stroking a hand against her slowly.

Quirking a smile, she fell silent with disbelief. If it pleased him to try, she would let him. It was nice, having him laying across her lap. Warm and comfortable, where she could drag her fingers through his dark hair and over his scalp. She felt like the protector for once, and the small babe growing inside her and relaxed husband nearby were her charges.

“Hello little one,” he breathed quietly. “It’s your dad. Can you kick for daddy?”

After a brief pause, a sharp jab left Essie sucking in a sharp gasp for air.

“Not that hard,” Amon reprimanded gently. “Be nice to your mother; she’s not a playground.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what I am for the moment,” Essie wheezed, flinching as the little monster used her intestines as a punching bag.

Grunting in response, the Illiad Lord snuggled himself closer to her navel. His quiet breath billowed over her as he grew quiet once more, slowly rubbing his palm to her chest. The hues of midnight disappeared beneath his eyelids as he closed them. All of his focus going to the small life growing inside her as she combed through his hair.

Essätha settled deeper into the sofa to ease her aching spine and lower back, breathing slowly and watching him with an adoring smile. There was such pure innocence in his actions; such wonder and awe in the calm composure of his face. It was almost impossible to believe the very same man who sprawled out on the couch now, nestled against her once kept a consistent mask of discontent and regal stone, once. There was so many soft edges now; carefree and lax around his eyes and in the tug of his lips as they moved upward.

“I can hear her, Essätha. I can hear our little girl.”

She swallowed against the tightness of her throat, tears swimming in her eyes. Totally speechless, and for once unable to correct him that they didn’t truly know if the babe was a girl or not.

Leaning her head back, her fingers continued to card lazily through Amon’s hair as he listened to the pitter patter of a little heartbeat from the best parts of themselves.

Their little girl.