![Baby Wessex d9b [earthling] Avatar](https://64.media.tumblr.com/de401f4e6e4ca07c241afc45583f7195/d2f1890293928896-84/s500x750/0ba6fe3572f4f5f72b52d28965cfcda71e4171a0.png)
Stand in Awe // [Rhodes]
Jun 1, 2016 18:59:19 GMT -5
Post by Baby Wessex d9b [earthling] on Jun 1, 2016 18:59:19 GMT -5
NAVYA SACHDEVA
In the middle of winter, Harbinger Rhodes' victor mansion turned to ice in the dark. Cocooned in blankets and the curtains of their four poster bed, it was easy to sleep - and to forget that many of their fellow citizens shivered in the snow. For a long time, that thought had kept her awake at night, even while the tide of hormones clawed at her. During the days, after she had checked on the Miristiomas, instead of reporting to the Sachdeva orchards, she worked in the district center, helping the neediest with whatever she could. She sewed, shared the crops from her garden, comforted the lost. The only ones she avoided were the sick, and she promised herself that would not be forever.
After the days when she actually did some good, she slept soundly. Only hours before she had helped a lost child find shelter with a foster family. She felt fulfilled, hopeful, as she fell onto the carefully arranged pillows. But still, the frost crept over the window sill. It was pitch black when she awoke, shivering.
Harbinger had left their bed.
He didn't very often, even though she knew he slept poorly many nights. But his body heat was better than any quilt, than any fire. If something had taken him from bed, it was something dark and pressing. She wrapped her robe around herself, although it barely tied. She cursed her sisters for tailoring all of her clothes within an inch of her childish form.
It wasn't until she was on the landing that she realized more than the cold had awoken her. She took every step carefully, testing a theory. Once, she even backed up a step. Puzzled, she hurried downstairs into the living room, where a fire had been built up. She found Harbinger in an arm chair, staring at the flames. She studied him for a moment, trying to gage his mood, before approaching the fire. Navya used the poker to stir the embers, her free arm lying across her rounded belly. When she felt the fire was sufficiently stoked, she crossed the room and as casually as a pregnant woman could manage, dropped into her husband's lap.
"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked, even while she arranged her legs across his, her arms draping over his shoulders. He said something - she wasn't quite sure what - because finally the vague fluttering in her abdomen resolved into something.
She gasped, grabbing for his hand. She pressed it to the lower part of her belly, both of her hands folding over his. "I swear I just felt - a kick? a punch? Say something else. I think the baby wants to hear your voice."
After the days when she actually did some good, she slept soundly. Only hours before she had helped a lost child find shelter with a foster family. She felt fulfilled, hopeful, as she fell onto the carefully arranged pillows. But still, the frost crept over the window sill. It was pitch black when she awoke, shivering.
Harbinger had left their bed.
He didn't very often, even though she knew he slept poorly many nights. But his body heat was better than any quilt, than any fire. If something had taken him from bed, it was something dark and pressing. She wrapped her robe around herself, although it barely tied. She cursed her sisters for tailoring all of her clothes within an inch of her childish form.
It wasn't until she was on the landing that she realized more than the cold had awoken her. She took every step carefully, testing a theory. Once, she even backed up a step. Puzzled, she hurried downstairs into the living room, where a fire had been built up. She found Harbinger in an arm chair, staring at the flames. She studied him for a moment, trying to gage his mood, before approaching the fire. Navya used the poker to stir the embers, her free arm lying across her rounded belly. When she felt the fire was sufficiently stoked, she crossed the room and as casually as a pregnant woman could manage, dropped into her husband's lap.
"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked, even while she arranged her legs across his, her arms draping over his shoulders. He said something - she wasn't quite sure what - because finally the vague fluttering in her abdomen resolved into something.
She gasped, grabbing for his hand. She pressed it to the lower part of her belly, both of her hands folding over his. "I swear I just felt - a kick? a punch? Say something else. I think the baby wants to hear your voice."
table coding (c) ghosty
