Asha was up and on her feet in a flurry of leather and sealskin, practically a blur of greys and browns, and then she was right there, standing in front of her looking so relieved Beck felt her heart break a little. Her wife was such an impressive woman, bold and strong and utterly fearless, which often meant she was cold in front of people like her uncles, but she had abandoned all pretenses now, and Beck felt an intense desire to draw her into her arms to try and comfort her. She might have done it, but Asha took her hands, and Beck didn’t want to pull away.
She listened to the fading footsteps of Victarion and Aeron, and the groan of the iron hinges, and then they were alone, and Asha was bursting with questions. That only made her feel worse. Going to Harlaw had been a quest for answers, most of which she had not even gotten, but it hadn’t been to punish Asha or to run from her. In truth, looking at Asha now, she found she wasn’t angry, and she wasn’t hurt, she was only relieved—only happy to be by her side again.
Beck untangled her fingers from Asha’s and cupped her wife’s face in her hands. With her thumbs she brushed some errant strands of hair back away from Asha’s forehead, and then she leaned in and kissed her. Her intent had been to be quick and chaste, but all of the emotions that had been building up broke like a floodgate and her arms wrapped around Asha’s neck as she deepened the kiss, holding onto her until she was breathless. The closeness couldn’t assuage the guilt, but it soothed the raw ache that had been burning inside her for days.
After a few minutes she composed herself and pulled back, but she kept her arms around Asha’s neck.
“I am—alright.” She said, unsure how to answer that question honestly without just blurting out her news. Her brow furrowed slightly. “No; I didn’t get any letters. The storms likely delayed them. That’s the only reason I was gone so long, you know?”
She hoped that Asha did know that. Her tone was serious and sincere for once. She did not care to tell Asha that even if she had have gotten any letters, she could not have read them. Reading had never been among her talents. Letters jumbled themselves on the page, her eyes lost track of spaces and lines, and before she knew it, she’d spent half her evening deciphering a single paragraph. Perhaps they’d return the letters when they discovered she’d left Harlaw, and Asha would read them to her herself. But that would come later. For now…
Beck released her wife with a little sigh and tugged her over toward the throne. She shrugged off her cloak and perched herself on the arm of the great chair and motioned for Asha to sit. She wasn’t sure if it was the baby or her nerves making her nauseous, but her stomach rolled like the tide outside.
“I need to—tell you something. It’s why…” She paused and muttered to herself, trying to gather her thoughts. “I went to Harlaw because—I, well. I wanted to see your mother and um, ask her about—-babies. Because I’m, well we, well I mean I guess it’s me but it’s really us. Just me, physically.”
She groaned, putting her face in her hands. This wasn’t going well. She was just going to have to come out and say it. Still not daring to look up at her wife she said, “Asha I’m pregnant.”
The taste of Beck on her lips was more reassuring than any other thing could have been at that moment. Ever since she had been a child, physical touch could calm her better than any words. The feel of Beck so near was soothing and wonderful and she felt a stab of joy catching a spark deep inside, warming her more thoroughly than the fire roaring in the hearth beneath the imposing carved kraken. She breathed a sigh of relief as she returned the kiss, feeling as though she had been holding her breath for months.
The kiss deepened and built in urgency until Asha was all but about to lift her wife, wet skirts, cloak, and all, and carry her over to the Salt throne to have her right there. But Beck suddenly drew back. She began to lead Asha over to the throne herself, which made Asha’s lips twist in a seductive smirk. Could Beck have the same thing in mind? Her grin grew wider as Beck shimmied out of her cloak and sat on the arm of the Seastone chair, motioning for her to sit. Yet something in her wife’s eyes prevented Asha from embarking on a trail of kisses beneath Beck’s wet skirts. In fact, Beck looked so serious that Asha stopped at once as if struck. Was she going to say that it was over between them? Would she insist on living separately?
All of the happiness and anticipation seemed to drain from her and she sank tensely onto her hard won throne. At one point it had seemed a hardship to marry a stranger in order to secure this throne. Now Asha felt as though she would give up the throne, her ships, the kingdom itself, if that was what it took to keep Beck by her side. She waited almost sullenly for her wife to speak and then...
It was like being pounded by an enormous wave from behind when your eyes were on the horizon. The loss of breath, the flailing, the confusion of ocean floor and surface. Yes, that was exactly how it felt when her wife told her that she was PREGNANT. That Asha would be a parent. She had put it out of her mind during their recent troubles. But now it all came rushing back. The spells, the prayers and incantations that made this baby... She groped like one in the dark for Beck and pulled her into her arms. Once Beck was comfortably in her lap she looked up at her, awe in her eyes and fear trembling on her lips. How could she be the kind of parent Beck would expect and DESERVE when her own childhood had been such a nightmare? She was barely hacking it as a wife...
She pushed the thought aside almost as quickly as it came. She needed to keep her eyes to the future or she would be lost, like her mother before her. She wanted to tell Beck how happy she was- for her, for them... But all that came out was a husky, “Beck...” and the rest was lost in a desperate kiss that grew in strength and urgency as the storm raged outside.
dededos
origamiaround
janainaart
turnnoffyourmind
dailybridgerton
kaledo-art
prguitarman
romaincrisis
