estdeus_innobis | “It is a wise father that knows his own child.”

One dress.

One dress that I can still wear and not look pregnant... yet. Every day I wake up now and I swear I look bigger. It must be true, for everyday there is a another skirt I cannot zip, another blouse that will not lay right, another dress that looks way too small.

With a smile that did not reach my eyes at all, I threw this own and opened, my mood irritable. I thought the candied pineapple would help, but it has just made me want the fresh fruit even more badly. I could scream for want of it. Well, of that... and sex. That craving is even worse. So acute, I am contemplating going out tonight and trying to find someone to seduce. If I kept the lights low and he, whoever, took me from behind---

I am trying to plot this as I walk yet another set of dishes back into the kitchen when I hear the shoppe door open, bells tinkling. I sigh and bite back a curse, for I had hoped my work day was ending.

"Wanda, my dear,"

That bastard. Not caring who the fuck may hear, I stride forth, throw the curtain to the side ready to tell my husband exactly what I think of him at this moment and---

"Darling, you look cold." I say smoothly, switching gears the second I see his face. "Shall I get you something warm to drink?" I ask, placing a hand on his shoulder and stretching up to lay a quick kiss against his cool cheek.

Edited 2010-07-18 20:35 (UTC)

Wanda is not happy to see me, but I do not particularly care about that one way or another.

"Darling, you look cold. Shall I get you something warm to drink?"

When her lips touch my cheek I think, in a detached way, what it would be like to break her neck. But I have killed her once already, and besides, she is growing something important. The desire ebbs away like water trickling through cracked rock, and I smile at her.

"Tea, my dear," I say. "And can you spare a moment to sit with me while I drink it, love?" I give her my most charming smile. I have no doubt she sees through it.

Oh, we are all facade today, are we not love? To the customers, we must seem happy, but I know better... and I am sure he can read me like a book.

Still, appearances.

He asks for tea, and with a smile I turn and fetch him the chili tea. "And can you spare a moment to sit with me while I drink it, love?" "Why, I always have time for you Mr. Whitman. And how could I refuse such a polite request?" I say softly, smiling even as I idly wonder how my customers would react if I swung the full tea kettle and caught him across the face.

"Would you like to sit out here or go into the kitchen?" I ask, every emotion from hate to rage to hurt to even (god damn me!) lust and a yearning to be held by him spike through me.

Edited 2010-07-18 22:09 (UTC)

Wanda's emotions are easy for me to read, for all her calm face. Desire and fury have always been close relations within her. Recognising that, and her talent for pain, was what made her an interesting project for me when all this began. Now I hope that she will be able to keep those desires balanced whilst she carries the child.

"Would you like to sit out here or go into the kitchen?"

"I shall go to the kitchen," I say, "so we do not disturb these ladies," I say, smiling at the women by the window, and I walk through to the kitchen, dropping a dutiful kiss on Wanda's head as I walk past her.

The kitchen, of course. He even goes so far as to kiss my head as heads back into the kitchen.

I turn and excuses myself, telling the customers that if I am not back when they are done, it is alright to go ahead and leave. They exchange a knowing glance, and tell me to run off and spend some time with that fine husband of mine. I flip the "open" sign to "closed", and slip back into the kitchen, where Kent is waiting for me.

"I would say I have a surprise for you..." I say brightly, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning against the sink counter. "but I think the surprise was on me. Wouldn't you agree, love?" My smile fades and I stop pretending to be happy, for that is the only emotion I am not feeling at this moment.

"I would say I have a surprise for you... but I think the surprise was on me. Wouldn't you agree, love?"

I smile placidly at her.

"Wanda, you are an intelligent woman," I say. "What did you think I was planning when I married you? I was hardly likely to do it merely for my own amusement." I step across the room and put a hand on her belly. I feel the child in her womb twitch, its heart pound, and I smile.

"What did you think I was planning when I married you? I was hardly likely to do it merely for my own amusement."

"I will not presume to know what you may have be planning." I say irritably, ready to smack his hand away, when I feel the baby stir. Oh god little imp, what are we do to? He smiles, and although I have it within me to break down and weep, I gently place my hand over the larger, rougher one covering the swell of my stomach.

"Why?" I ask, quietly; afraid to know the answer. "Why would you create a life when all you want is to bring an end to all?"

Wanda puts her hand over mine. Even now she loves me, or at least needs me.

"Why would you create a life when all you want is to bring an end to all?"

I shrug and smile blandly.

"In every act of unmaking there are a hundred acts of creation. And the reverse is true, of course. Anyone who thinks I merely wish to tear things down has little understanding of who I really am." I put my hand back on her stomach, and once again the child jumps at the feel of me. Hello, dear. "Did you want to kill it?" I ask. "I suppose you probably did, but you did not. Do you love it already?" I ask, stroking her belly. "I can tell you if it is a boy or girl, if you like."

"In every act of unmaking there are a hundred acts of creation. And the reverse is true, of course. Anyone who thinks I merely wish to tear things down has little understanding of who I really am."

I shake my head, confused and upset. "I don't understand. I want to, but I don't... tell me. Help me understand." I whisper. "What do you want this child, our child for?"

"Did you want to kill it? I suppose you probably did, but you did not. Do you love it already?" Again, the baby reacts to it's fathers touch, and now I do cry, just a few tears. "Yes, yes I did. But you are right, I could not. It didn't seem right to..." I admit, raising my eyes to his. "I was alone; angry, and scared... I still am, I am terrified... so I decided I was going to kill myself, that way he or she would not be alone... we were going to go into the twilight together." I don't care what he thinks of that, he was not there to try and change my mind. "Obviously, I did not. Just as I was about to... I forgot. Forgot almost everything." I take a deep breath and realize I am shaking slightly. "Woke up, as it were, when you made the sky scream. So here we are, and yes, I do love him or her. But you knew I would, didn't you?" I ask, feeling the child move again. "One of it's parents should."

"I can tell you if it is a boy or girl, if you like." I look from his face in surprise, then down to the hand on my stomach. It would never have even struck me to ask. "I... yes please. I think I would like to know."

Edited 2010-07-19 02:09 (UTC)

"I don't understand. I want to, but I don't... tell me. Help me understand. What do you want this child, our child for?"

I look at Wanda, for a moment perplexed.

"Wanda," I say kindly, "why would I help you understand? It is not your job to know what I intend."

"I was alone; angry, and scared... I still am, I am terrified... so I decided I was going to kill myself, that way he or she would not be alone... we were going to go into the twilight together."

That would have marred my plans somewhat... although it is not the first time it has happened.

"Woke up, as it were, when you made the sky scream. So here we are, and yes, I do love him or her. But you knew I would, didn't you? One of it's parents should."

Does Wanda think I broke the enchantment? Very well, then. I have no interest in discussing that time with her.

"I did know," I say. "You have a loving heart." And it is given over to me, which is useful. "I am sure you will take great care of our child."

"I... yes please. I think I would like to know."

I smile at her.

"We have a daughter, Wanda. A lovely girl."

"Wanda, why would I help you understand? It is not your job to know what I intend."

"Ah, so all I am allowed to know is that I am to try and survive childbirth, raise our child and to keep the two of us alive and safe? Doesn't sound too terribly hard." I comment rather dryly, trying not to let my annoyance get the better of me. Calm down, Wanda, this will get you nowhere! Think of the child. I think to myself and take a deep breath. Okay, I'm okay.

"You have a loving heart. I am sure you will take great care of our child."

"I shall try." I say quietly. "I think you picked the wrong woman for the job." I shake my head and laugh a little, but it is hollow. "I wish I were stronger, more.... capable of defending myself. If I can't even defend myself from Tez's petty cruelties, how would I keep us safe if someone wanted to truly hurt me, or the child?" I ponder. I may not be able to be killed, but that doesn't mean I can keep on going if someone cripples or maims me.

Kent smiles, not one of malice or ice, but a true enough one, for him. "We have a daughter, Wanda. A lovely girl."

I stare into his eyes in wonder for a moment then laugh again, but this time it is in delight. "A girl?" I breathe, my sour mood abolished in one statement. "My little imp's a girl?" I ask, my smile growing as I lay my hand besides Kent's. The baby flips in response, and I find myself laughing and crying at the same time.

"Ah, so all I am allowed to know is that I am to try and survive childbirth, raise our child and to keep the two of us alive and safe? Doesn't sound too terribly hard."

"I think it unlikely that you will die in childbirth," I say. "And of course I shall afford our daughter protection. What kind of father would I be if I did not?" I smile at her.

"I wish I were stronger, more.... capable of defending myself. If I can't even defend myself from Tez's petty cruelties, how would I keep us safe if someone wanted to truly hurt me, or the child?"

"I would have had to choose a god if I wanted someone able to withstand a god," I observe. "And I did not want a godchild. You are resourceful, Wanda, and you had the courage to threaten Gaueko and to slit my throat. I am sure you will manage."

Wanda starts crying with joy when I tell her the child is a girl. How easily mortals' moods are swayed.

"Yes," I say. "I believe she will have your eyes." I kiss Wanda's forehead quite tenderly, as a husband would on such an occasion. "She will be beautiful."

Kent thinks that it is unlikely that I will die... he does not know. Will not give me a guarantee. Not exactly comforting, even as he assures me the child will be safe. How can I try to raise it to be a good person if I am dead?

He did not want a godchild... so the baby is more human? I do not bother to ask, Kent does not seem very forthcoming with details. The child will be what it will be when born, and I will have to see that it is raised with love, and taught to do the same.

"You are resourceful, Wanda, and you had the courage to threaten Gaueko and to slit my throat. I am sure you will manage." I arch an eyebrow, and smirk a bit. "I could argue that those instances were fueled by stupidity and hurt..." My gaze flickers over to the sword on the wall, and I think of the thin trickle of blood at Tez's neck, and Ares' grin. "I suppose I'll manage. But if a mob shows up with torches and pitchforks I would hope I would have a little backup." I grumble, considering getting a guard dog for added protection.

My husband's lips find my forehead as he assures me our daughter will be beautiful. I finally relax and lean into him, placing my hands on his arms and my face against his chest. As much as I am still unhappy about all of this...

I have missed him.

"Are you staying tonight, or did you just come by to check on the work in progress?" I ask quietly, inhaling the scent of leather and skin musk.

Edited 2010-07-20 11:49 (UTC)

"I suppose I'll manage. But if a mob shows up with torches and pitchforks I would hope I would have a little backup."

"I am sure you will have backup in those circumstances," I say, and I think about the child, and I smile a little.

Wanda leans into the lie that is this body.

"Are you staying tonight, or did you just come by to check on the work in progress?"

I put my arms around her. I can feel the child's heart beating between us.

"I can stay," I say, because a few hours means little to me but it will please Wanda, and it is easier for me if Wanda is tractable.

"I am sure you will have backup in those circumstances,"

Well, if nothing else, he seems confident in my ability to raise our child. That's a good thing, I suppose.

His his arms wind about me. "I can stay." I sigh in something as close to contentment as I can get and settle into his embrace. With my cheek pressed to his chest, I can hear his heartbeat, and at the same time I can hear the baby's... our daughter's echoing in my ears. It is surreal and intimate, and it both the most wonderful and the most awful feeling in the world, sharing this moment with him.

"Thank you." I whisper, pulling away just enough to look up into his eyes. "I do enjoy spending the night alongside you, as you may have surmised by now." I say, lips twitching up a little. "But I should warn you, my moods have been erratic these past few weeks, what with the hormones, cravings and rapidly dwindling wardrobe. I apologize in advance if I get bitchy or throw something in a fit of pique." I warn him good naturedly.

It is so very easy to appease her. She reminds me of a dog that gets repeatedly kicked by its owner, but as soon as he speaks softly to it, it whines and lies on its belly, wanting to be petted. And so I stroke her hair as she presses her cheek to my chest, a gesture that says good girl, good girl.

"But I should warn you, my moods have been erratic these past few weeks, what with the hormones, cravings and rapidly dwindling wardrobe. I apologize in advance if I get bitchy or throw something in a fit of pique."

My mouth twitches up.

"I hardly mind that," I say. "You can always slit my throat again if it makes you feel better. Or beat me up." I smile at her in a friendly way. "Nothing you can do to this body is permanent, and so if it pleases you, feel free."

"You can always slit my throat again if it makes you feel better. Or beat me up. Nothing you can do to this body is permanent, and so if it pleases you, feel free."

Now it is my turn to arch an eyebrow as my lips twitch. "Mr. Whitman, that is hardly the way any expectant mother should act." I reprimand him even as my eyelashes lower and I lick my lips. "But..." I sigh, reaching behind me on the counter to grab a knife. "You are the reason I cannot fit into any of my dresses..." I quickly move the knife and send the top two buttons of his shirt flying, exposing his neck. "And that I have been so ungodly tired and sick..." Touch the tip of the blade to the hollow of his throat and press, just enough to break the skin and see a bead of blood form on the dull silver. "and I think I shall blame you for the inexcusable lack of tropical fruit in this godforsaken town..." I hiss, dragging the blade down to his chest, a thin red line following in it's wake. Oh god....

"It pleases me to be quite pissed at you for doing this to me." I whisper, grabbing a fistful of his hair and pulling his face down to mine to bite his lower lip.

Edited 2010-07-20 23:21 (UTC)

There was no hesitation in Wanda then to take up the knife. It is easy to stir her violence into anger. That is all very well, considering she knows she cannot truly hurt me; but it is still a human impulse to hesitate.

She does have potential, still. And so when she bites my lip I kiss her back, and I shrug off my shirt. Blood beads down my chest.

"Show me how angry you are, Wanda."

His mouth moves against mine and there is nothing light or gentle about this; this is dark and hungry. I catch his tongue and bite down hard, tasting blood even as he removes his shirt.

"Show me how angry you are, Wanda."

I pause for a moment and allow myself the luxury of raping him with my eyes as he stands before me, bare chested and bleeding. My nerve endings are screaming, for I have craved him. I tried to satisfy the yearning with Derek, but no. No one else could. I step forward, flip the knife in my hand, bring up my arm so that I may slash across his chest in a downward motion---

when the *clink* of a cup against a saucer reaches my ears. My arm stops, mere inches from his chest when I realize I still have two customers sitting in the shoppe.

I snarl in frustration, and wonder for a second if anyone would miss them if I were to go out and---

Shake that urge off quickly and head for the curtain, open it just enough so that I can talk to the ladies, but they cannot see my bloodied husband, nor the knife I am clutching behind my back.

"Ladies, if there is nothing else?" I say sweetly to the loitering busybodies. "Mr. Whitman has the afternoon off and we would like to... spend some time together." I explain with a well timed blush.

They get up and take their leave, and I lock the door behind them.

With a feral grin, I head back to the kitchen, twirling the knife between my fingers.

"Where were we, love?"

Edited 2010-07-21 03:41 (UTC)

I see how easily Wanda's appetites take her, and it costs her some effort to go next door and sweetly ask her customers to leave. When she returns I smile at the savage expression on her face.

"Where were we, love?"

"I believe you were about to carve that knife into my chest," I say. "Did you wish to proceed here, or downstairs?"

"I believe you were about to carve that knife into my chest, Did you wish to proceed here, or downstairs?"

I study the knife in my hand, the blood staining the edge. With a sigh, I set it down on the counter and pass him to lock the back door as well.

As I cross the small space separating us, I idly pick up the rolling pin from the counter. He is watching me from over his shoulder, and I smile sweetly right before I swing hard and catch him aside the head. His head whips around with the blow and he staggers before dropping to his knees.

"I have wanted to do that since you walked in." I explain, dropping the rolling pin to the floor. I grab a fistful of hair and drag/haul him bodily to the basement door, and Kent manages to move himself forward on hands and knees. I throw it open and bend down to kiss his now bleeding temple. "Downstairs, love, if you can manage. If not, I can push you down." I offer gently, trailing my fingernails over his shoulder.

Wanda smashes a rolling pin against my head. I welcome the pain; I like to make this body suffer.

"Downstairs, love, if you can manage. If not, I can push you down."

"I can't," I wheeze, because I know Wanda wants to push me.

It is tempting to let myself fall in such a way that I break my neck, but no. It is too early in the game for that. And so Wanda finds me merely badly bruised at the foot of the stairs, and she sets to work...

A long time passes, and I taste blood in my mouth. Sweat has pooled beneath my back on the cold floor, and Wanda crouches over me. I have made my cock hard as she worked on me. I think she will like that.

The only dress I owned that fit well is now ruined. It lays in a heap, stained and useless. I gave him ten lashes with the bullwhip for that last transgression. I am glad he ruined it, for I was beginning to run out of reasons I hated him after a few hours. A new set of cuts or bruises for every reason...

there were a lot of them.

But now Kent lies prone beneath me, allowing himself to be human enough to be broken, to be pushed to it's limits. I myself am starting to wear down, my body heading for exhaustion for the child takes much of my energy. This game is coming to an end, I think.

I smile coolly and slap him hard across the face to get his attention. "Still with me, love?" I ask, grinding my sex against his erection, his cock sliding against the silk of my panties. I look around, and perhaps my dress isn't quite so useless after all. I reach over and grab it, tear a strip off, and slip it around his throat.

Smirking, I move the barrier of cloth between us and impale myself on Kent's straining cock. I throw back my head and shudder around him, reveling in the feel of him within me, and let myself get lost for a moment. Just a moment though. I come back and start to ride him, slowly, and as I do... I start to twist the fabric, causing it to tighten around his windpipe. "Is it true that one can still come as they die?" I ask, leaning over to kiss his bloodied lips as he gasps for air.

Edited 2010-07-21 23:17 (UTC)

Wanda slaps my face, and my cock twitches. I smile at her, and then she pulls off her underwear and slides onto my prick. I groan as I feel her clench hotly around me, but I groan harder when she tightens a strip of cloth around my neck.

"Is it true that one can still come as they die?"

"I suppose," I wheeze, "you will have to... find ... out." I jerk my hips up as I begin to see black splotches in front of my eyes, her mouth warm against mine. My breath is a thin whistle against her lips.

"I suppose,you will have to... find ... out." the words are hard for him to form as I continue to tighten, continue to move.

It is a concentrated effort, to control the tightening of the fabric whist I rise to an orgasm, I can't have him dying before I manage to finish. But it doesn't take long for the ripples to start within me for I have been starved for him. The feel of his hips jerking beneath me as he struggles to breath properly and his desperate attempts to suck air into his lungs help as well.

As I start to cry out, start to feel the waves crest over my head, I twist the fabric hard, clenching it between my hands. There is no air supply now, and he thrashes and claws at my arms---
I throw back my head and scream as I climax, releasing the fabric and digging my nails into the ruined flesh of his chest and I come, over and over. I can feel his cock swell and throb within me, and Kent spills as well. As soon as the tension leaves me, I slump forward, sprawling across his body; seeing stars and breathing hard...

If he is breathing or not is another matter.

I scratch my fingernails into Wanda's arms, palms sweating, as she tightens the cloth about my throat. I see stars now, bright smears across my vision, and a death rattle rises in my chest. I do not know if Wanda hears it, because she throws her head back and screams into climax, cunt throbbing. Her nails are very sharp in the meat of my chest. I release into her, and as I do I pull back, pull back, pull back, letting go of this body, until I am a brilliant spark buried deep in Kent's body, his heart stopping, his blood ceasing to move.

The cock softening inside Wanda now is dead. I wonder if she will like this fantasy so well, now that she experiences it at last.

Silently, deep in this cage of flesh, I wait.

It takes me more than a few minutes to realize that I am the only one breathing hard... that I am the only one breathing at all. Well, now I know that a man dying of oxygen deprivation can still climax. That, or the body releases naturally after death. I was a little pre-occupied and did not take notice of when it happened.

I don't bother moving for a few moments. Merely lay atop of him, studying his glassed over eyes, blue tinged lips. I suppose I should be more unnerved by this, by killing a man mid-coitus, but I am not. I know he can come back to me, to knit this broken and abused body back together. I begin to wonder how long it will take him to do just that though; for the body is beginning to grow cold on the floor, and I am more than a little uncomfortable. Perhaps if I go wash up and change, he will have returned by then.

I place a kiss against his shoulder, sit up and am sliding off of my presently dead husband, when another feeling over takes me all together. A sense of upset, of almost panic. But why? I know I can't really hurt...

OH!

The little heartbeat is so very fast within my ears and I try and send a wave of reassurance and love to the baby. Stupid woman, I never thought...

I touch my hand to the slight swell of my stomach and stoke it. "Shhh... shhhh... it's alright. It was just a game your daddy and I play together, I promise. He's here little imp, he's here..." I sigh softly, picking up Kent's lifeless hand and bringing it to lay against my skin, hoping he decides to come back sooner than later.

Edited 2010-07-22 11:15 (UTC)

I do not feel Wanda shift herself off this body; why should I? It is now just a shell in which I am hidden. But then I sense something in the darkness, something fast and fierce and groping toward consciousness.

My girl is precocious.

I stretch back into the body, heart giving a sharp, hard thud back into life, and as blood slowly starts moving through these veins again I feel that Wanda has put my hand to her stomach.

"I am here," I confirm, opening my eyes. I sit up, and I stroke the curve of Wanda's expanding belly. "Daughter mine, I cannot be killed so easily." I feel the child's heartbeat slow a little, and I smile at Wanda. "She is special already, is she not?"

I cannot help but breathe a little sigh of relief when I hear a hiss of air being dragged into his lungs. The hand twitches against my stomach, and I smile when I see Kent's eyes open once again.

Once he assures our daughter that he is made of sterner stuff, she calms.

"She is special already, is she not?"

I cover his hand, and lay my head on his shoulder as I feel my energy waning. "Yes she is my love. I cannot wait to meet her." I say quietly, realizing that I will have to take great care with her if she is this aware already. "This may seem like a silly question, but do you think she can hear us?" I ask, my lips quirking up a little. "It seems obvious she can feel us." I remark, trailing my fingertips in a pattern over the back of his hand, still stroking the spot I can feel her occupy.

"This may seem like a silly question, but do you think she can hear us? It seems obvious she can feel us."

"Oh, she can hear us. How much she yet understands..." I tilt my head. "That remains to be seen. But she is growing faster than an ordinary child would, and I think she will be clever indeed." I move my thumb over her stomach, and inside her the child moves again. "And she recognises her blood," I say. "Yes, I think she will know a great deal more than one might expect."

"But she is growing faster than an ordinary child would, and I think she will be clever indeed."

"Late March, if the midwife is to be believed. She will be here in roughly two more months." I say offhandedly, realizing I have to start changing the guest room into a nursery. "And of course she will be clever." I smile a bit more. "Won't you be, my darling girl?"

Kent's thumb moves, and I chuckle for it not only tickles, but the baby responds as well. He seems pleased that our daughter responds to him, and believes that she will possess a knowledge that will be extraordinary for a child. Again, I have to wonder how much of Kent is ingrained in her already, and how much I can affect? If she can absorb information now, I can start right away, telling her about all the wonderful things life has to offer. It's a start, at any rate.

"Well, what I would like her to know is that I do require sleep at night, and that some foods are impossible to get here in the middle of nowhere, so she should stop wanting them. Unless you have a pineapple plantation somewhere I don't know about?" I ask dryly, but with a slight hint of hope in my voice, just in case he does have one. Oh, just the thought of it makes my stomach growl, and I realize I am not only tired but famished after all this exertion.

"Shall we get cleaned up Mr. Whitman? Your child and wife are feeling a bit peckish, and we might alarm the neighbors if we go to the cafe looking so garish." I ask, looking at our bloodstained bodies with an appreciative smile. Well, perhaps after we eat I will not be quite so tired anymore.

"Late March, if the midwife is to be believed. She will be here in roughly two more months."

"Not long at all," I smile. "I am looking forward to meeting her."

"Well, what I would like her to know is that I do require sleep at night, and that some foods are impossible to get here in the middle of nowhere, so she should stop wanting them. Unless you have a pineapple plantation somewhere I don't know about?"

"I am sure I can acquire pineapple if it would please you," I say. It is no great thing to do, and it may prove useful to keep Wanda pacified.

"Shall we get cleaned up Mr. Whitman? Your child and wife are feeling a bit peckish, and we might alarm the neighbors if we go to the cafe looking so garish."

"Come and shower, then," I say, leading her to the bathroom in the cellar. I mend the wounds on my body as I do, but I leave some marks where they will be hidden by clothes. I know Wanda appreciates them. Blood sluices off our bodies down the drain, and I roll my shoulders under the hot water and smile. Many things are in motion, now.

"I am sure I can acquire pineapple if it would please you,"

A grin splits my face and I nod enthusiastically. "Oh yes please I have been---" I stop and bite my lip. "That is, if it would not be a bother." I add in a bit more of a subdued tone. "I... I don't like to impose on you with petty things." I admit, looking down. "The wedding was lovely, and I am not sure if I ever thanked you for indulging me so. But I don't expect you to cater to my wants... and I know you wouldn't anyway..." I laugh a little, but then look back at him. "But I wanted you to know that I do appreciate the little things you do indulge me in. Thank you."

I laugh again after a moment, feeling rather foolish for such an admission and shake my head. "Damn hormones." I mutter, tucking some hair behind my ear.

Kent takes my hand and leads me to the shower. I sigh as the hot water hits me, clearing away the dried blood, and I survey the few new marks that he decided to keep. I watch him roll his shoulders, and almost on instinct, I reach up and run my hands over his neck, then start to knead the muscles between his shoulder blades. As if he really were a labourer and had just come home with aching muscles after a long day. Again the absurdity of this situation hits me, and I grin. "I suppose you really don't need me to do this either." I remark, but don't stop. "I think I need to eat, lack of food is making me sentimental, it seems." I say, placing a kiss against his spine.

Edited 2010-07-23 21:59 (UTC)

"That is, if it would not be a bother.I... I don't like to impose on you with petty things."

I raise my eyebrows under the stream of water. I have been quite clear with Wanda that I have only darkness and madness to offer her, so why she does not demand what things with which I pave that road for mankind - worldly pleasures and successes - I do not know. Perhaps it is so she can keep this fantasy of a human marriage alive. It is a little disappointing; if she embraced more of what this marriage really meant, she might not be happier but she would probably have more fun.

"I suppose you really don't need me to do this either."

"I don't need anything," I observe, "but you may do it if it pleases you, and I can let this body be pleased to receive it."

"I think I need to eat, lack of food is making me sentimental, it seems."

"Dinner, then," I say. "You must keep your strength up, given your condition." I turn and smile at her, and I turn the water off.

Kent seems bewildered by my reluctance to demand the moon and the stars and all the tea in china. I find myself wondering what the demands and expectations of those that wed him before me were? Did they ask for everything their hearts desired? Did they only do it for what he could give them? Did any of them even try to...

"I don't need anything, but you may do it if it pleases you, and I can let this body be pleased to receive it." Kent's voice rouses me out of my musings, and I smile. "It does please me, husband. I like this body of yours, the muscle tone and definition of it." I comment, trailing my hands over his broad shoulders and down his arms. It pleases me to admire it as much as it pleases me to mark it."

Kent agrees dinner is a good idea. "You must keep your strength up, given your condition." I smile and nod, slipping my arms around his waist once he turns the water off. "I actually have an appetite again, which is a great help in such matters." I grin, stretching up to kiss his lips, shivering pleasantly at the sensation of our bodies rubbing together.

"Come on Mr. Whitman. Lets dry off and go upstairs; try to find something that still fits me." I murmur against his lips, trailing my fingers through his wet hair. "Then feed me, bring me home and perhaps exhaust me some more if I am in the mood..." My lips quirk at that for I am always in the mood. "... and after that, allow me to fall asleep within your arms?" I ask, looking up into his blue eyes; the ones that I remembered even when I lost my name.

Edited 2010-07-25 04:23 (UTC)

"It pleases me to admire it as much as it pleases me to mark it."

"And you mark it well," I observe, mouth quirking up into a smile.

"Come on Mr. Whitman. Lets dry off and go upstairs; try to find something that still fits me. Then feed me, bring me home and perhaps exhaust me some more if I am in the mood...and after that, allow me to fall asleep within your arms?"

"My qareen will find you clothes," I say, and I turn my head north so that my servant can hear me. "Such things are easily done. And yes, I will spend the night with you," I say. Such a little thing is easy to grant.

When we go upstairs, there is a black dress (http://www.everydaymaternity.com/bmz_cache/1/14e71f7c01e4d00297dd146b5e0a2e07.image.333x600.jpg) hanging on the door of Wanda's bedroom. My qareen works quickly.

"Very elegant," I say. "You will look quite ravishing."

Kent says something about a... a.... a whatever the heck it is he said and clothes.

"I am sure I still have a pair of low hipped jeans and a oversized sweater." I protest quietly as we ascend the stairs to my bedroom. "And what the heck is a... quar...qa..."

My question dies as I see there is indeed a new dress awaiting us. I quickly discard my towel and find a bra that still fits and a pair of knickers. After donning those, I put the dress on.

"Very elegant, You will look quite ravishing." I stand in front of my mirror and note that the cut is to emphazise the pregnancy bump, and not to mask it. I take a deep breath, and smile, sliding my hand over the swell. No use trying to hide it, I suppose.

"As long as you are the one doing the ravishing." I tease, and twist my hair up into a loose knot. "So instead, let's go to the tavern so you may show off your 'ravishing' wife. We can have dinner there, and maybe I can sweet talk you into dancing with me?" I ask, adding a long strand of champaigne paste pearls to the look. "It won't be long before I am waddling, I would suspect, so I should get some dancing in now!"

Edited 2010-07-25 19:41 (UTC)

"Of course," I say. If Wanda wants us to play at dating, then I am amenable. I listen to the steady throb of my child's heart, and yes, it suits me to keep Wanda content. "I am quite at your disposal tonight." I kiss her, and I let her lead me to the tavern, and we eat and we dance, as I agreed. It is no great sacrifice to make.

It is a lie, it's all a lie and I know this! But even knowing that...

I had a really good time tonight. The food was delicious, I indulged in a glass of strawberry meade, and I learned that my husband is quite the fine dancer. Even the little imp seemed to have a good time, fluttering along with the music.

Too soon it seemed, my energy flagged again. My ever attentive husband gently insisted that we return home, that a woman in my condition must take care of herself. I conceded of course, how I could I refuse that smile? We walked home arm in arm, and when we entered the kitchen, I noted there were a few pineapples sitting on the counter, which I thanked him for with a rain of kisses over his face. Kent then proceeded to sweep me up in his arms and carry me upstairs with a dark, glittering smile and a promise that he would make sure I would sleep well tonight...

and now; as I lay spent and sated, curled within the circle of his arms, I believe that claim. I can barely keep my eyes open as I place a kiss against his neck and settle my head on his shoulder. I can feel our daughter flutter as my husband's hand caresses my stomach, and I laugh quietly, oddly content within this moment. Then the moment slips away as I do into a dreamless sleep...

Edited 2010-07-26 11:26 (UTC)

“It is a wise father that knows his own child.”

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