"It's a little cut, Lune. I don't think it'll kill me," Reiss sighed, tipping her head back and trying to not jump every time the needle bit into her flesh.
"This ain't little. Paper cuts are little. It's pretty deep into the meat, Rat."
"So?" She wasn't leaving a trail of blood in her wake, nor about to pass out in a back alley. "We've cleaned up far worse off each other over the years."
"Maybe, but you weren't carrying an extra passenger at the time, neither."
Reiss blinked, her hand cupping against the stomach that finally calmed down. It'd been nearly six weeks of constant churning as if she couldn't escape from a ship. Most of her crew learned that when the boss said to get out of the way, you best dive for the sidelines.
"Just because there's a...I'm not exactly made out of egg shells, Lunet. I can handle myself just fine."
"Uh huh," her friend grunted, the sutures far tighter than they ever used as it wasted precious catgut, "and what if the knife hadn't been for your arm? What if it nicked through your belly instead?"
"Impossible," Reiss dismissed the thought, "Cedric's hands weren't capable of reaching far enough over to..." At her friend's look, Reiss paused. "What?"
Lunet slunk back into her chair, the bloody needle still poised in her fingers. "If it were just you full of some dockworker's brat, I wouldn't say nothing. Shit, I'd expect you to be out there walking the beat at eight months popped and counting." They both remembered the expectations of oncoming mothers in the watch. You either sucked it up, or you were replaced.
"Reiss, this ain't nothing. This is the King's," Lunet gestured to her womb as if a fabled jewel was jammed inside instead of a tiny fetus.
It wasn't the best conversation Reiss had ever had with Lunet when she told her, but it wasn't the worst either. Lunet at least got on with Alistair, to some extent, but she could read all the concerns in her friend's face. Unwed mother, squirreling away near an alienage, an elf filling with a human-blooded child. None of that would play well to the community. Perhaps it was Reiss' admitting she knew shit wouldn't be easy but stubbornly going ahead anyway that eased Lunet's fears. She'd been sworn to secrecy, nearly no one else made aware until Reiss felt it was time and there was less a chance of losing this miraculous surprise. After the first three months passed, she started to think she was really waiting until there was no more denying it.
"Plenty of women are walking around Denerim right now pregnant, and they're fine," Reiss said, shaking her head. She never thought she'd have to explain this to Lunet.
"And how many of them are about to birth a kid with royal blood? I mean, do you know how many he's been sniffing around since you went up the duff?" She tacked on, earning a sneer from Reiss.
"Lune..."
"Wha'? Men are fickle, so I hear," Lunet tied off the suture and snipped it free. She'd on occasion make light about the idea of Alistair being romantically involved with anything that moved, if only because the idea was so preposterous. Normally, Reiss would laugh along, but there was clearly something else weighing on her mind.
"Okay, what's going on?" Reiss asked, reaching over with her sutured up arm to grip onto Lunet's cold fingers.
"You ain't obvious now, so it's a fun little secret, but... Shit, Rat, have you thought about what'll come once you're waddling around with a bulging gut?"
"I'll take a few months off, that's a given," Reiss said.
"Right, then you'll have a baby. Kinda loud, demanding, known to keep people up at all hours. You really think you're gonna be able to head right back in to work once it slithers out from between your legs?"
Reiss shuddered, "You make birth sound so appealing. Maybe it'll take awhile to adjust, but..."
"Maybe? Rye, that's someone with a claim to riches and lands beyond any of our wild dreams squatting inside you. Don't tell me you're so deluded to think you can just pop back in here as if nothing's changed after it's emerged into the world."
"Lune..." Reiss scooted forward, trying to catch her friend's for once wandering eye.
"And for all the crap I give him, ain't no way the King's gonna let you drag your little baby down to this shit hole. He'll want you both perfumed and pillowed up at the palace. Safe like," she jerked her chin at the red and oozing wound, "where no bastard's daggers can hurt you."
"Look, I can't claim to see into the future. This whole thing is new and I'm making it up as I go, but Maker's sake...this is my life, Lunet. This agency, all of you. I've been building it for nearly three years, that's far longer than the baby. I'm not going to give it up just because there's a child in my life too. It can stretch to fit, we'll find a way."
Lunet stared at her hands, seeming in disbelief, but her lips lifted in a half smile, "Is that a promise?"
"For as little as my name is worth," Reiss admitted. She'd been so busy worried about her stomach not upending itself with every step she never stopped to think what this baby would mean to everyone else around her.
"Good enough, I suppose," Lunet chuckled. Then her eyes wandered over to the cut that was about to bruise terribly. "Gonna tell the King about that?"
Reiss drew her fingers softly against the sutures and sighed. Rolling her sleeve back down to hide it, she admitted, "Only if he asks."
CHAPTER FOUR
A Little Rain
14 weeks along...
Don't even think about it!
Alistair glared at a dark cloud that went and gathered a good ten of its buddies together to crash what had been a very nice picnic he planned hard for. An elegant spread of cheeses once tucked inside the basket were now being slowly digested by the pair of them. He even snuck out the really good blanket off his bed, which -- considering the mess of grass stains and bugs -- may have not been such a wise idea. Ah, that's what washings were for.
Perched back on her elbows, this impossible woman stared down across the lonely hills. She'd wandered up them back when the sun was still able to hustle out the imposing clouds. Thanks to this gorgeous late-spring day, Reiss abandoned her fancy Solver coat and hat for little more than an old tunic that he swore was clinging tighter to certain parts of her anatomy he shouldn't speak of in polite company. Speaking of them in impolite company would cause Alistair to giggle like a gibbering nug and probably drool a little.
Reiss wiped a hand across her forehead and gazed over at him. "Tell me again, for the official record when Karelle or anyone else comes looking for you, why are we out here?"
Smiling, Alistair tipped back on his side to slide closer to her. He draped a hand down over her stomach -- still flat but give it time. "Because," he cupped his fingers up and down imagining them bulging with the baby inside of her. Catching her flash of verdant eyes, he melted, "I wanted to celebrate with you."
"That's..." Reiss began before Alistair caught her lips in a kiss. She tasted of the nutty brown cheese he snuck out that supposedly paired best with whatever wine was in your glass. As he pulled back, she hobbled herself onto one elbow to part her fingers down through his hair. "That's all we've been doing every time I see you."
"No, there's been other stuff. We, uh, we talked about...um," he blinked, his mind tumbling off a cliff. There had to have been more. Her casework, or whatever Lunet was up to, but somehow that all kept rolling back into baby things. How was she handling walking the streets while their little nub with limbs grew? What did Lunet think of it? Was she already on the line for babysitting?
Reiss roughed up the grey scruff along his jaw and she tugged him closer, "I know you're excited." As the kiss faded, Alistair let his forehead brush against hers. Skin so warm it drew him tighter, the very joy of spring radiating off of her. Reiss seemed to be wearing pregnancy well once the sickness part wound down. There was a glisten in her eyes, and whenever he caught her rubbing her stomach the apples of her cheeks would light up. She was excited too, even if she had to be the more practical one.
"Ooh, I know," Alistair scurried to the edge of the blanket and hefted up one of her boots. "I'll rub yo
ur feet."
"Why?" she lifted an eyebrow, but didn't stop him from unlacing her shoes to place to the side.
Digging in with the pads of his hand, Alistair shrugged, "That's what the father does, right? Rub feet, fetch weird foods in the middle of the night, and pass out little celebratory bottles of wine."
"You damn well better do more than..." Reiss' sentence trailed off as he pressed both thumbs hard against the ball of her foot. A groan and then a, "dear Maker" erupted instead, Alistair unable to shake the smile. "Okay, that's good. Keep doing that."
"As you command," he chuckled, grateful to be helping. It was a bit strange to be technically on his third impending child, but to never have really experienced pregnancy. At least not with the mother puking while he held her hair, or snuggled up to his chest while she regaled him with whatever freakish new thing her body did that day.
Switching to the other foot, Alistair expected Reiss to tip back, to lay down and gaze up at the tree branches above them, but she waved her fingers and snapped. "No, you give me your feet."
"What? Why?"
"Because I said so," a curious quirk twisted up her lips and he had to obey. Sliding in between her legs, Alistair stretched his celery stalks out beside her shoulders while he dug back in to his work. With determination, even as she groaned for more, Reiss undid the tight laces on his boots and, sure enough, began to massage his feet.
"Okay, now that's really pointless. I'm not even..." Alistair began before he felt the muscles in his ankle and his calf coming undone. The knot up half of his leg fell apart into a puddle of relaxation. "Sweet merciful Andraste," he gasped, "I had no idea you could do that."
She smirked, "You're telling me the King doesn't regularly have someone rub his feet? What about Charles?"
"No way, that man knows far too many secrets about my traitorous body to be reduced to foot rubber. He's probably paid the best of anyone in the castle just so he doesn't go blabbing."
"He knows more than me?" Reiss kept on digging in, both hands working through his toes while she pushed his ankles tighter against her chest. It caused her breasts to squish in, Alistair's brain clicking away at the bobbing and weaving.
"Huh? Uh, yeah, he knows what horrors can occur if I consume certain things. I want you to be able to look at me again without having to gouge your eyes out." He felt an awkward blush rising up his cheeks at that. It was rather foolish, not as if she hadn't seen him in varying stages due to illness, drink, or a dangerous case of idiocy. But he loved the way she stared at him, even when naked. No screaming, no running for the hills. Reiss always looked as if she was trying to chisel the view into her memory for all of eternity.
She paused in her massage and tapped her chin, "It's olives, isn't it?"
"By the void, how did you...?"
Shrugging, she pointed to her nonexistent hat. "My job." Unable to take anymore, Alistair yanked his legs back in order to crawl over top of her. Reiss' uncertainty turned into a great smile as he cupped her jaw with one hand and yanked out the bun with the other. In the middle of the kiss, she leaned back to laugh, then shook her golden hair free.
"Maker's breath, I love you," Alistair whispered, his fingers free to part through her hair that seemed to be getting shinier. The baby's doing or perhaps it was the promise of summer? During official meetings it took all his control to not pull it apart, comb it with his fingers, or lay it against his upper lip to make a mustache. Here, alone, he could do whatever he wanted.
"I love you too," Reiss smiled, "which is good seeing as how we made a baby together."
"Can it be called a baby yet? Isn't it more like a nuglet?"
"Nuglet? Maker, no, you are not calling this a nuglet. I refuse for my sake, and Karelle's poor eyesight. She's liable to go blind from rolling her eyes so hard at that."
Alistair guffawed at her certainty, and the fact she was probably right about Karelle. He reached down to run his fingers over the back of her neck and tug her closer, when a drop of water landed upon her exposed collar. It took a moment for his brain to figure it out, two more water droplets splattering upon her chest, when he finally felt the rain land on his back. Tipping his head back, Alistair stared into the grey sky just as the downpour began.
"Maker's bloody nails," he cursed, water quickly drenching his eyes. He had to wipe it away, more of the rain making it through their minimal leafy cover as the clouds of doom finally doomed all over them. "I swear this wasn't supposed to happen," he cursed again, staring down at the hill overlooking Denerim. Somewhere way at the bottom was where shelter would be. He groaned, prepared to make a run for it, when the sweetest sound caught him. Reiss had her head tipped back, her mouth open as the fresh rain dripped down her throat. After every catch she'd laugh before returning for more.
"Should we, uh," he jerked a thumb back down the hill, when his eyes wandered down from her face to the wet shirt suckered to her chest. The cold rainwater drew her nipples out, the linen drenched enough to provide nearly the entire tempting outline of her beautiful breasts. Alistair stuttered around a few more ums and uhs, hoping that she wouldn't notice he was locked up on her chest bouncing with her laughter.
Reiss reached forward, her fingers snagging through the back of his hair. It was enough to draw his eyes to hers and he nearly yelped from the lust burning inside them. "Should we what?" she purred before yanking him to her. Her rain splattered lips plied his apart, letting her tongue dip in to find his. It tasted even warmer than usual, Alistair sliding up to his knees to match her voracity. His hands cupped along her waist, slicking her soaked shirt tighter to that body he was aching to touch.
Seeming to have the same idea, Reiss began to unbutton his mud stained mess that was going to cause so much tongue clucking back at the palace. She refused to stop kissing him while yanking it down, his shirt snagging at the wrists, but all she wanted was to touch his bare shoulders. Fat, wet water drops plopped upon his exposed skin, one landing right into that clavicle crease. Moaning at it, Reiss dipped down to lap the rainwater off his shoulders, the warmth of her breath causing a noticeable strain to build in his pants.
"Are..." He should ask. He was an adult. It was chilly with the rain. And she was pregnant. Good to look out for her and all. "Are you sure...?" Alistair began again, when those mischievous green eyes snapped into his.
Fuck being the grown up.
Reiss yelped in surprise and joy as he dove with her back onto the blanket. A few drops plopped onto her face, one heading near her eye. She scrunched up her nose, the broken side crinkling even more than usual while trying to fend off the rain attack. At first Alistair tried waving his hands over her face to stop them, then he realized his fat head would serve as better cover. Rain dripped against the back of his skull as he kissed her with all the heat building up through the lower sections of his body. It moved from the loins section down his thighs and then up through his belly. He halfway expected to glance down and find his crotch glowing.
Shaking off the thought, his hands traipsed down her chest, even while his unbuttoned shirt tugged tight across his back. She was wearing this enticing dip to the shirt, where the laces cut off just before there was a swell of her newfound cleavage. Alistair tugged the edge of the neckline further down and placed his hot mouth against her glistening skin.
"Oh Maker," Reiss moaned as first his one hand, then the other cupped under her breasts. So soaked, it was almost as if she was wearing nothing. Alistair could nearly feel the softness of her skin below. Walking his fingers higher, he circled around her nipples -- Reiss chuckling below him -- when he gently knocked one then the other up.
That set off her buzzing. She tried to stuff her fingers in her mouth as if to stop it, but Alistair was quick to reach out and catch them. He loved when she did that buzzing. Sometimes to the point if he wasn't careful around the beehives, he could face some very pointed questions from the keepers. Reiss let her hand fall from her mouth, the buzzing increasing as she gripped onto his shoulders instead.
/>
He wanted her naked.
But that wasn't smart.
Oh, sod smart.
Digging his fingers under her shirt, his knuckles glanced across Reiss' warm stomach as he yanked the clinging garment off of her. Alistair was about to toss it to the side, when he noticed how muddy the ground got. After carefully placing it on the blanket, he turned over and his breath fully caught in his throat.
Lain back, rain drops glistening upon her skin making her look even dewier than usual, Reiss was a fairy. An ethereal being plucked from the fade itself, given the perfect form to taunt him beyond his wildest dreams. Her golden hair circled her head, the rain beading in it like dew drops upon rose petals. More rain dripped down her breasts, the freed nipples calling for him to ravage both in kisses. But he was spellbound, a single hand glancing across her scarred stomach as the rainy colors drew forth even more of her freckles.
"Alistair?" He had no idea how many times she had to say his name before he snapped free of the spell.
"I want you," he breathed and Reiss laughed.
"No kidding," she drew her fingers down his naked stomach to cup the obvious bulge in his pants.
He gasped, lost in the rising thrum of her fingers circling for his dick straining against water drenched trousers. "You're so..."
Reiss unbuttoned the fly, quickly yanking his pants and anything else in the way down. With a quirk to her lips, she ordered, "Just do me already."
Oh Maker!
Alistair made quick work tugging her pants down, Reiss' water kissed lips plundering his skin for fresh rain. Even with the chill in the air, he could feel himself growing harder, his balls tightening in anticipation as her warm mouth drifted down to press against his nipple. Stumbling from excitement, he yanked off the rest of his offending trousers, no longer caring if they were banished to the muddy hill.
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