Are you still taking prompts? If so I have one.
They couldn't understand why it was taking so long for Alina to get pregnant again when the last time it had happened so easily.
At first, when they decided that it was time for a new addition to their family, Alina wholeheartedly believed that all it would take was to stop taking her contraceptive tonic.
The first, and even the second time she bled, she wasn't concerned--it would take time for her body to cleanse itself of the lingering aftereffects of the tonic, after all. And anyway, trying was fun--sneaking away in the middle of the day for a quick round, still fully clothed, hard against the wall of his study, and having long, slow, drawn out lovemaking sessions in the night, Sasha whispering the dirtiest, most delicious things into her ear about how he'll put a baby in her, and how beautiful she will look with her belly round and full of their child.
The third time she started to become concerned.
After the fourth, she started looking into folk practices and old wives' tales--when to make love, in what position, what to do after their release; what to eat, what not to eat, what to do and what to avoid. (Sasha downright laughed at her when she stood on her head one night, but she was past caring.)
After the fifth time, she went to see a Healer, but the woman told her, in the firmest and most respectful tone, that there was nothing wrong with her, medically speaking, and that she would conceive in time, they just had to keep on trying.
The sixth time she bled it broke her. It was almost as if the Saints were mocking her--she fell pregnant lightning fast when she didn't want it, and now failed to do so again when it was the one thing she wanted the most in the world.
"It's alright, Alinochka," Aleksander murmured to her, holding her close and kissing her tear-streaked face. "You heard what everyone is saying--it'll happen, it'll just take time."
She nuzzled against his neck. "But what if it won't?"
He took her face into his warm hands and forced her to look into his eyes. "You need to let it go--not forever, no. I'm not saying we give up on it. But it's consuming you whole, milaya." He pressed a chaste kiss to her lips, his thumbs caressing her cheekbones. "What if we went away for a little while? Just a couple of days, just the two of us. There's that lovely hunting lodge outside of Balakirev." He rested his forehead against hers. "We could go on long rides. Take a picnic. Stay up late into the night in front of the fire. Forget about everything else." He kissed the tip of her nose. "Hm, what do you say, solnishka?"
She smiled weakly. "That would be nice."
And so they go, and it's magical--they explore the grounds on horseback, and hunt for ducks in the Otkazat'sya way, with bows and arrows, and bathe in the lake naked, and make love on the floor of the drawing room, in front of the roaring fire. And for a couple of days she forgets all of her woes and just lives for the moment.
(Next month, her bleeding doesn't come.)
