Thar Shaddin

Continued from...

Daloyxiu, February PW121

Ivone was thrilled to know she was but a half-day's wagon ride to the Gardens. The last month had been one filled with delays. An unexpected snow storm stayed the caravan's progress in a small town. That had been a boon in one regard, really. A near-constant need to urinate coupled with a swaying wagon was not a fun experience.

The last month and a half had been amazing, wondrous, and often inconvenient. Finding out the illness she'd harbored was a miraculous pregnancy was bittersweet. Joy, because she hadn't thought that she could never conceive ever again (hadn't Guild Markus said as much after insisting on sewing her up with sheep's gut?), and more importantly, because it was Tius'. Sorrow, because she did not want Tius to feel obligated for a moment's pleasure. Worry underpinned it all: what if she miscarried because the scar tissue or had another still birth? Though she did not express any of this to Tius, or even tell him the news. That weighed on her as well. She wanted to give him the news in person, thinking it wrong to put such things in a letter that could be intercepted. And, if he did not want the baby or her, then she could see it in his face immediately.

She knew the tone of her letters had been too forward, but had been unable to contain her feelings. Stuck with her own thoughts, well... a flutter in her belly reminded her she wasn't alone. At sixteen weeks, her stomach was only slightly distended, but her breasts were noticeably larger. The initial nausea and fatigue had gone, as if someone had flicked a light switch. Now, she was sometimes dizzy and found nearly everything ...

"The Gardens are just there."

"Thank Theogious! Please tell me they have a proper bath." Ivone grinned at Marissa as the wagon slowed to a halt at the Gates.

Words were exchanged and faces turned to her, studying her. Ivone inclined her body from the seat and greeted the two men. The gates widened with a creak.

"Perhaps I could walk in?"

Marissa shook her head.

"It's still a ways from the gate to the main house. You should rest."

That was the woman's response to most things. She knew. Ivone knew she knew, yet Marissa never asked.

"As you wish."

January 20th, 212 PW

Dearest Bloom,

I think back on our first meeting, and I wonder if I could have conceived then of addressing you in such familiar terms. I do not think I could have, but so much has changed that now I fear we can never go back, nor would I want to. We are our experiences, and we are our choices, and whatever else you may think of me, know that I did not choose poorly when I chose to help you. The staff of the Gardens, particularly Xi Mei Peng and her husband, Xi Li Sung, know to expect you. I have tried to be polite in expressing my wishes to them, but I fear overstepping my bounds. Any potential visit to you may involve substantial bridge repair on my part.

If you met the chieftan that I think you met, it is possible the rumour spread because they did not believe that I would ever marry. In their defence, at the time I met them neither did I. They are a social people, for all their rough and ready lifestyles, and family features heavily in all of their plans, passing from one generation to the next. Your misunderstanding, if indeed it were such (I would not put it past Marissa to spread such a rumour), may yet turn out to be a boon, and make passage easier. Time will tell.

I have conveyed your regards to my sister, of course, and my niece now wonders when she may write to you, as only you might understand her plight, as she calls it. I believe she has only recently learned that word, as it has featured heavily in our conversations. You will pardon my forwardness, but I have included her letter, brief though it is, for you to read and respond to at your convenience. She is also very thankful for the doll, though she had to be reminded to say such in her letter.

I have taken the oil to our employees and outlined your idea, and Bloom, you should have seen the way their eyes lit up. There are other uses it can be put to as well, but, as I constantly remind them, one thing at a time. It is always advisable to make sure that the first plan is viable before making plans dependent on its success. Improvements to the store continue apace, and a clear plan has been set down to bring it forward in stages. As ever, I have included an outline, as well as sketches of new display units and a marketing outline to present your new products to the discerning customer. I understand your distraction; a new adventure can almost overwhelm in possibility, and it can take quite some time for coherent thought to flow once again, but know that I value your contributions all the same.

That is quite a fetching sketch of me, I must say, though I think you have made me too fair of face by far, Bloom. I include a sketch that I too have drawn of you. Nowhere near as detailed, of course, but it captures a moment of life and honesty, which I hope you will appreciate. It is, in case my abysmal talent with charcoal make it indecipherable, you singing that night at the theatre, revelling in the moment. I think on that moment, and the others we have shared, more often as the days pass.

My heart is heavy because I must ask things of you that I would rather not, yet cannot avoid if our security is to be assured. I can say no more, not here, and will broach subject properly once I visit, which I hope to do once the snows have passed. I know not when that may be, or whether I would make good time, but know that I do intend a visit. As does Shen, as he is so keen to remind me.

Structurally, the house is the same, so you may relax on that score, but I have purchased some furnishings and so altered the layout of the public rooms, as outlined in the attached note and sketch. I have also purchased more bedding and bedroom furniture, which is also noted. The most expansive changes have been in the garden, and the plans for properly housing your myriad herbs and flowers are well underway. So far, they have held up well, despite two changes in location, and I feel we will be fully set before spring is at its zenith. I have enclosed some pressed specimens for your perusal, and an outline of the soil conditions.

As ever, I have also included a care package of more coloured pencils, powders and dried delicacies to remind you of home. I have also sent this via trusted Courier, and I hope to time its arrival to coincide with your own arrival at the Gardens.

Until our next meeting.
Butterfly

-------------------------------------------------------------

Tius turned the letter over in his hands once again, glancing up when his name was called. Li Sung simply shook his head, smiling at his foolishness. Tius could not blame him, and smiled sheepishly, passing a hand over his eyes. It had been a long journey to reach Daloyxiu, and precious little rest had been had at any stage. Tius knew he looked a fright; unkempt and road weary, but Mei-Peng and Li-Sung were angels in heavy disguise, and, despite some scolding, had rallied in fine form. Truly, he had not expected to reach the Gardens before the caravan, nor had he informed Marissa or Ivone that it was his intent to travel, but given what he knew, and what he needed to ask her, he felt he could wait no longer.

"(Apologies, Li-Sung,)" he said, straightening, "(I fear my mind has not yet adjusted to journey's end.)"

"(If that is all that concerns you, I would be most surprised.)"

"(You know me too well.)"

Arriving first, however, had been a blessing, and he had been able to smooth ruffled feathers quietly with explanations. It was not over, but it went a long way towards balancing things. Li-Sung smiled knowingly, tapping his nose with a finger.

"(Well enough, Vi-Cen. Well enough. Is that the letter?)"

"(Yes,)" Tius said.

Handing it to the man, who cocked an eyebrow and looked at him curiously, he stretched, absently straightening his clothing, and hoped that Shen was securely tucked away with Artha. Neither were accustomed to so long a trip, and while they had borne it well, he wanted them to have the rest he was denying himself. There would be plenty of time for Shen to roam the new surroundings, but that time would need to wait. Li-Sung looked at him expectantly.

"(You do not want to greet her?)"

"(Not yet,)" he said, "(I wish to surprise her.)"

"(As you say,)" he said, shaking his head.

Li-Sung departed for the gate, where Tius was certain the caravan fast approached, and Tius was left alone, fretting uselessly over matters of no import. No, he'd had to come, and she needed to know. So did he. He just hoped that she could forgive him.

Ivone sat expectantly, anxious to be through with wagon seats. She would miss the winds, but pregnancy had a way of overshadowing everything. Her fears made her less bold and more hesitant. Even getting down from the wagonwith Darreth’s help made her nervous. What if she fell? The man was as tall as Tius and lifted her like she weighed nothing, but that didn’t stop the worry.

“Don’t worry, Ma’am. I have you.” Ma’am – a side effect of the rumor.

Ivone nodded, a grateful expression washing over her face. She had to make no effort to get down. Darreth had inserted his hand under her armpits, lifted, turned, and placed her on the ground. Ivone had gained only a few pounds.

“I know, Mister Darreth. Thank you. Your lady is quite lucky. I hope she likes the gifts you commissioned. Please make sure to let me know. And be careful.”

“I will, ma’am.”

A woman stood waiting for her. She was older and Ivone’s host, therefore protocol said Ivone should wait to be introduced. Marissa made the introductions.

“Honorable Xi Mei Peng, please allow me to introduce you to Lady Ivone Morrington of Marn.” Both women regarded each other. One as if assessing the other’s worthiness. Ivone shot Marissa a look and horror cramped her gut. Why did Marissa keep doing that?! Xi Mei inclined her head and swept into a proper curtsy. Ivone blinked, the gesture derailing the hurried attempt to correct Marissa. Hoping she did not fail in her pronunciation, Ivone greeted the woman with the required honorific for an older, married woman and bowed her body to the angle required. Ivone, though younger, was the woman’s equal at least.

“Madame Xi, I am honored to make your acquaintance.” The time to present gifts had not come, but Ivone knew she was required to do this, too.

The older woman’s face crinkled up into a beautiful smile and Ivone found herself engulfed in the woman’s embrace.
“No more formalities! You are a daughter, here. Welcome to your home. Come! Vi-cen was very anxious that you might have comfort.” Ivone embraced the woman in return, grateful yet again.

“He did? Oh…”

The woman’s hand came to rest on Ivone’s cheek. The young woman glowed with vitality and proof that she carried a babe in her belly. Humor danced in the older woman’s gaze. She knew something Ivone did not.

“Before we go much further Madam Xi Wei, I must correct a misconception.” Xi Wei just smiled and patted Ivone’s hand.

“Come. Is it not normal for a guest to have a moment to refresh before conversation is engaged?” Ivone’s eyes widened, certain she had been remiss.

“Only if my host allows me to present her and her honorable husband with tokens of my gratitude.” Ivone didn’t want to be rude, either by not following after the woman or by failing to provide the gifts Tius had sent.

The woman tut-tutted and swept Ivone along.

“Rest, first, then we will have our greetings and exchanges. A letter arrived for you…” Here, Xi Wei pulled the letter from a pocket and held it out to Ivone.

A letter? Ivone kept herself from grabbing at the paper.

“Thank you, Madame Xi Wei.” Xi Wei just smiled and closed the doors behind her. The space was warm and Ivone first set about removing the layers of clothing she wore. She was loathe to put the letter down even for a moment, but she was getting too warm. A quick glance showed pegs mounted on a wall and a low table, upon which a box rested. Beneath the layers, Ivone wore thick leggings and a long shirt, untucked. Her belly was not so big, yet, but her breasts had outgrown her undergarments. The shirt clung to these.

Ivone pulled out pins and shook out her hair, taking a moment to rub her fingers over her scalp before taking up the letter once more. Her expression softened and she gave a little snort. Bridge to be repaired? If so, Madame Xi Wei did not seem very bothered. Her eyes widened. So, Marissa perpetuated the rumor because … Ivone bit her lip, recalling the Chieftan’s daughter. The woman, now married with babies of her own, had seemed a little distant. She nodded.

Her gaze darted across the page and Ivone paused, flipping to the childishly scrawled page. Ivone’s expression turned doting. She would most definitely write back. Ivone chuckled. Plight, indeed.

Shifting her position, Ivone walked the space as she read, unable to sit still. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, touched her fingers to her lips as she smiled. That that moment stuck in his mind…

Finished reading, Ivone lifted the letter to her nose as if she could smell him on the page. Eyes closed, it seemed to her she could. Her hand slid down her stomach to rest on the small bulge of her lower abdomen. The baby fluttered like a butterfly against her skin or perhaps like the little small fish given to children as a prize at the fair, caught in a too small bag full of water. Though it was too small still to feel with a hand, it was there and she could feel it. Their miracle.

Whatever he asked of her, she would do it, willingly. Ivone opened her eyes, intent on opening the box with its gifts and soil.

Tius was not a man generally given to impatience, as such a thing was a definite handicap when dealing with nobility and clerks of questionable merit, who took delight in petty inconveniences and displays of power. Yet, as he waited for Ivone, he felt unaccountably anxious, despite being certain that she had arrived safely and that all, so far, was well. Usually, the sea air of the Dragon's Eye would calm him, but now it did not, despite the pleasant memories that it invoked. He wanted to ask himself why, but could scarcely hold the thought, and to keep from pacing, busied himself with looking somewhat presentable. It was a lost cause, at least by Marnian standards, without a good hour in front of the looking glass, but it would have to do, he supposed.

Voices cut off his train of thought, and he moved to a window, glancing surreptitiously through a gap, as Xi-Mei shepherded Ivone towards her accommodations. He had not thought it possible for travel to make a woman more beautiful, but in her case, it certainly had. Ivone was radiant, and flustered in that adorable way of hers, and it brought a smile to his face to see it. How was he to approach this? He grunted wryly at himself; not by hiding in there, that much was certain. Still, he thought back to his conversation with Monetario and Zydia, to the veiled threats and implications. No, he did not expect that to be a pleasant conversation, but they had their security, and that would have to be enough for the time being.

He narrowed his eyes, certain that Xi-Mei had thrown a wink in his direction, and resisted the urge to shake his head. Those two, he felt, were incorrigible, and had far too much free time until their grandchildren came of age. It was not an unpleasant thought, as they were dear friends, and had shown more patience than a person should with the brash young foreigner. It was a kindness that he strove to repay, and they had both done well out of it. Clearing his throat, he listened to the sound of doors closing, aware that he was stalling for time. Carefully, and quietly, he slipped out into the hallway, acknowledging Xi-Mei's encouraging smile by pressing a finger to his lips, she shook her head and carried on to where her husband was, no doubt, doubled over laughing at Tius' foolishness.

There was a tray by the door, he noted, absently, with green tea and some light fruit, and he smiled again, making a mental note to thank Xi-Mei and Lei-Sung for their thoughtfulness. He had further gifts for them, but the time was not right, and he picked up the tray carefully, standing before the door. He debated saying something, anything, but he knew that words would ruin it, so, steeling himself, he shifted his grip, reached out, and knocked firmly.

Ivone opened the box while still standing, preferring to stand after sitting for so long. The soft knock on the door was a surprise.

"Just a moment, please."

She moved toward her things, intending to pull on an over shirt of some kind. It wouldn't do to flash new friends, now would it. Ivone opted to just press the first thing her hands landed on against her chest and turned, crossing the room and opening the door.

"Than..."

Ivone stilled, eyes wide. There was a rush of sound in her ears, like the heavy winds of the sandstorm.

It was him. He was here. He came.

A riot of emotion churned through her and she pressed a hand to her lips. And then, she did probably the least expected thing: Ivone burst into tears.

Not some ladylike, tearing in the eyes, no. This was joy, stress, pregnancy hormones, and desire all outpouring at once and she wished she wasn't crying so foolishly, but she thought her heart was going to explode, that what she felt was bigger than her skin. Ivone reached for him, but couldn't make her feet move.

He was here!

If the sight of her had given him pause, then the sound of her voice so close at hand mailed him in place, and he felt his hands tighten around the tray. Part of him wanted to shove the door open, and another part wondered if he shouldn't have run now, but he mustered up the strength to hold his ground. The sound of footsteps gradually approached, and he straightened, glancing down at the tray to ensure that his fretting had not disturbed anything.

The door opened, and he looked up in time to meet her eyes, letting his smile spread further. Her eyes widened mid-sentence, and she seemed to be having some trouble breathing. In the moment, he could sympathize, though he knew that he had to say something before the stress became too much.

"Room Service?"

He delivered the line, corny as it was, with a smile, but he didn't expect it to move her to tears. It had not been that bad, surely? Still smiling, he suppressed the spontaneous urge to laugh, and stepped to meet her outstretched arms, turning slightly to bring the tray out of the way. Snuggling against her for a moment, he planted a soft kiss on her lips, finally letting out a low chuckle.

"Was my joke that awful?"

Ivone managed to laugh and reply with an emphatic, "No!", before she let her hands roam over him as if confirming he was real and not some figment of her fevered imagination.

She hadn't forgotten how tall he was, but had, too. Ivone pulled on his shirt, to make him lean, so she could hold his face in her hands and press kisses to his cheeks, his brow, his eyes, his lips. He was travel weary. It showed around his eyes. His hair, naturally wavy, had been smoothed down, but was still unruly. The scruff of a beard lay on his chin, his cheeks. He smelled like sweat and horse, wind and snow, leather; and she loved it. Those scents didn't matter much - hadn't she just come off the road as well? What mattered was that he was here.

"I missed you. So much! I can't believe you're here!"

Where to begin? There were so many things that needed to be said, but the rush of blood, of love demanded more than words. Ivone forced herself to step back and be mindful that all of this was probably one-sided. How should she broach the subject? Just spit it out?

He waited there as she laughed and cried and tried to pull him closer, laughing in turn and doing his best to oblige her while keeping the tray out of harm's way. It was difficult, as she seemed determined to get everywhere, but he managed it, returning her affections. Closer to, she was lit by an inner fire, and it was clear from the way she was pressing against him that certain changes were already occurring. She smelled of the road, just as he did, but behind that there was another scent that was uniquely her, and he breathed her in, glad to simply be beside her again.

"I missed you too," he said, looking into her eyes, "and how could I not?"

She released him for a moment, and he took the opportunity to deposit the tray on a handy table, before returning to take her hands in his. If ever a person looked like they had something to say, Ivone did so now, and the desire to know the truth of what he had been told warred with his common sense, which told him to let her broach the subject in her own time. Then he remembered the other reasons he had come, and somehow that gave him the nudge he needed to press on. He smiled, reaching up to touch her face and smooth away her tears.

"And as I said, there are things I needed to tell you in person."

He stopped, letting his hand trail down to rest on her hip, not straying to her abdomen straight away, nor lingering in any great fashion. He had come for her, first and foremost, and it was important that she knew that. Concentrating on what he had to say, he pushed the confusion away.

"Monetario agreed to help," he said, "eventually. But he has made some requests of his own. For insurance, he said."

He paused for a moment and then plowed on.

"Mrs Morrington."

Ivone smiled, softly, at Tius' admission and at the way he brushed away her tears.

At the mention of Monetario, she stilled, waiting for Tius to drop the bomb. Instead he referenced her faux pas. Ivone shook her head with a chagrined laugh and face palm. She had to admit it sounded wonderful coming from his mouth and sent the butterflies mad in her stomach, but marrying her was beneath him wasn't it? He could make a more advantageous match (even though she knew he'd never do that).

"I am so sorry for that. I can't believe I made such a simple mistake." His hand on her hip was so warm.

"I don't know how to undo it."

He blinked at her words, thinking quickly, then he smiled again, realizing his own mistake. His hand squeezed her hip lightly, once again amazed by how enchanting she could look even with the simplest of gestures. He chuckled again, clearing his throat, and brushed a thumb across the line of her cheek.

"You don't need to," he said, softly, "I was being serious."

He paused a moment to let that sink in. There had to be a way to broach that subject without it sounding negative, but he just had to hope that she would understand. Waiting for her to look at him, he smiled, raising an eyebrow.

"He demanded that we be wed," he said, "as insurance against you working against him. We go down together sort of thing. I'll admit, when he mentioned insurance, I thought I would have to do something unpleasant."

He cleared his throat and looked into her eyes, all serious.

"I wanted to ask you, because I do not wish to force anything upon you," he said, "the paperwork is done, but unless you wish it, that is all it will stay."

He smiled again, his hand itching to stray to her abdomen.

"Ivone, will you marry me?"

Ivone tilted her head and a twitch of uncertainty, disbelief even, rippled across her face.

She heard what Tius said, but it didn't quite register. She opened her mouth to reply, to say something, anything, but nothing came out.

Monetario wanted Tius to marry her as insurance that Ivone wasn't playing a triple spy game? Her eyes narrowed as she tried to understand that logic.

"Because you're Raemes' son and Raemes is Aurelio's backer?" Wouldn't it make more sense to have Tius do something at the Ministry?

What? Ivone's gaze zeroed in on Tius again.

"Well, that's good, then. Because against all odds you... we... managed to get me... us... pregnant."

Sensible. A sensible reply in the face of something so utterly amazing that she'd only fantasized about it in her wildest dreams.

She blinked again, realizing he'd actually asked Her to make it a real marriage, not just one of convenience.

"Oh..." Happy tears formed.

"Yes. Yes, I will." Ivone peered up at Tius, pressing her teeth into her bottom lip. She felt shy suddenly.

"Would you marry me, Tius?" A sense of wonder filled her voice as a sense of dread crept around her gut.

This was too good to be true... wasn't it? Her hands slid to her belly as if she was certain she would miscarry spontaneously on the spot, just because.

"Partly."

He noticed the confusion, noticed the disbelief, and kept his gaze steady and his voice sure. He knew there were other ways to coerce people, and he had no illusions that Monetario had something else on the cards. That was his way, after all; let the prey hang for a while before moving in.

"He is not one for direct confrontation," he continued, "so social scandal, the threat of destroyed reputations, gradually bleeding you away. My father values his reputation quite highly, values the family reputation quite highly. Knowing my father's attitude towards you, making his fear a certainty is an unusually direct jab at him. A display of power."

He stopped when she voiced the words he had been waiting to hear, and even though he had known it to be the case, had been expecting to hear them, it still hit him like a fist. She was tearing up, and she was still speaking, and he finally moved his hand to rest on her abdomen, opening and closing his mouth once as he tried to put his thoughts in order. Suddenly, it was all too real, and he was standing on shaky ground. He rested his hand on her shoulder to steady himself, and leaned in to kiss her once more, feeling a laugh bubble up from his chest.

"Of course I would," he said, at last. "Changers, of course I would."

He kissed her again, then pulled out a handkerchief to wipe away her tears.

"So, you're pregnant?"

Ivone slid her hands over the one TIus placed on her abdomen and looked down at them. A thought occurred to her. She sought out TIus' gaze with her own.

"I didn't do it on purpose! Dr. Markus said that it was highly unlikely that I would ever conceive again and I hadn't ... " She didn't want to talk about past encounters. She hadn't been especially prolific, but she hadn't been especially chaste either. Ivone's brows drew together.

"He also said I probably wouldn't carry to term." Being pregnant was both a blessing and a curse. She'd already fallen in love with the little thing inside her. To lose it... Ivone pressed her knuckles to her mouth, spoke behind them in a rush of breath.

"Oh, Tius! What if I lose it?" She heaved a breath and more tears appeared. Ivone threw herself at him. Pregnancy can make a woman a volatile thing, even the most steady of them.

"If you do," he said, pressing his hand a little tighter against her, "then you do. I fell in love with you, not the child, and we'll face it together."

He wrapped both arms around her hips, pulling her close and lifting her into a kiss. It wasn't a choice that he was making, it was something deeper, and he wanted to impress on her how serious he was. He kissed her deeply, passionately, and didn't break it until he had to come up for air. Gazing into her eyes, he growled low in his throat, glancing towards the bed. So intent was he on her, that he didn't even register what he'd just said.

"We Morringtons are survivors, Ivone," he said, kissing her again, "and now you're one too."

He pressed his brow against hers, feeling himself stir, and grinned.

"Doctors don't have all the answers," he continued, "so to hell with them. That is our child. And it wants to meet us as badly as we want to met it."

together... he was in love with her!

Ivone moved easily into Tius' arms, returning the kiss. Could anyone feel more joy than she did it his moment? All her cares and worries were nothing in the face of Tius' acceptance and declaration. The hunger in his gaze fanned flames.

"Yes, I am!" Emphatically and with certainty, Ivone agreed even as she leaned back, trusting Tius not to drop her, so she could undo the buttons that kept her from touching his skin.