[Solo] It Begins...
Posted: Fri Sep 02, 2022 5:56 pm
5th of Ash, Early Morning, 4622
It was supposed to be over, wasn't it? The mageblight was supposed to be over! It had been a full season since had overstepped, and his mageblight had gone away enough that he was able to eat regular meals again. God help him he didn't want to see another cup of ginger tea as long as he lived. He had his first few nights without a single nightmare, and he felt like himself again. He vowed to never again try and take Degare's face, or any other face, until the god permitted him to do so. He took his punishment without complaining, and agreed that he deserved it. However, what curled in his stomach this morning wasn't mageblight.
Vivian scrambled off the bed and grabbed his faithful bedpan, heaving into it. Thankfully this early in the morning it was mostly bile. He groaned, resting his forehead on the floorboards. He grabbed a rag from under his bed and wiped his mouth, coughing and sitting up. Well he wasn't dizzy. He was just nauseous. Why did the lemon oil the servants used smell so sour? He had loved that smell before, now it hit his sinuses. It was putrid and he hated it. Vivian slowly sat up, settling back on his heels. Why was he so sick...he glanced down as another wave of nausea shifted. Oh. Right. Seventeen days ago he had slept with a man he sorely missed.
Alistair...tears welled up in his eyes. He missed Alistair. Handsome, principled even if he was a little bit of an ass. Noble. He was carrying the child of a noble house and he was doing it alone. Of course, Alistair was working on becoming a Valran himself, so he could own an estate where they could raise the kid. Still. Vivian sniffled, tears rolling down his eyes. He didn't want to do this alone. He looked down at his stomach. Well skipping shirts was now out of the question. He was already forming a very tiny swell in his belly. If he was going to hide this from the Veir he had to start working on a solution. He chewed his lip. Maybe he could steal a shirt? He would have to steal a shirt, he didn't own one. All of his clothing was so...so skimpy. What was his child going to think of him?
He groaned and leaned his head against his mattress, climbing slowly to his feet. Well, he had promised Alistair he was going to improve himself and change his wardrobe. That would start...tomorrow. After he'd stolen a wardrobe.
Vivian put on his coat, shrugging the ragged thing over his shoulders and closing it around him. He had never worn it this way, preferring it open or hanging off of his shoulders to better advertise his figure. He really didn't want to advertise anymore. Alistair and his child deserved more. If he was to be a Valran as well as a mother, he had to start dressing like one. He walked down the hallway, thinking as he went. Lucas was about his size. He snuck into the porter's room, making sure he was downstairs doing his duties, and rifled through his drawers. He made sure to gently peel back the folded shirts, preserving them as much as possible to prevent it from looking like he'd been doing what he was doing; stealing.
He selected a nicer linen shirt, something simple and white with long tails that he could pose nicely in when Alistair visited him again. It would also allow him to hike up the material a bit as his stomach grew, letting it out as much as he was able to. Who knew how this would progress? He could extend his ether down into the womb, to cradle the tiny life within. It was barely there, but growing quickly. Vivian knew already. He couldn't explain how, but he knew it was a son. A powerful, beautiful son. Born of magic, growing within magic. "You are going to be a great mage of a great house." Vivian whispered to him, and smiled. "Just forgive me for being a thief."
Vivian tucked the shirt under his arm, and crept out of the room. He returned to his own room, closed the door, and pulled the shirt over his head. He settled on the bed, crossing his legs under him, and closed his eyes. He wanted to know this womb better. It was made of his magic, so he needed to touch it with his ether, get to know it. He needed to Immerse himself in his female aspects, to better his Synchrony with it. It was such an odd idea, to embrace that part of himself that had appeared so quickly and so strongly.
He reached down with his ether, breathing out through his nostrils. He touched the outside of the womb. It was made of his flesh, and his blood, but there was the savagery of a great insect present within it. Insects were fantastic mothers, and this part of him certainly embodied that. He could feel it tense against his touch, treating him cautiously. Vivian tried to relax, and felt it relax in return. The teeth just beyond his cervix were still clenched protectively, the guardians of his child. Interestingly, the teeth were rooted in the smooth muscle of the passage beyond, and could slam down with the force of his abdominal muscles. With a little shift in pressure, he could keep the teeth closed but not clenched. That went a little way toward helping his nausea.
The life inside was anchored by a cord of muscle and blood attached right to him. What Vivian ate, the baby would eat. What he drank, the child would drink. What he breathed, the child would breathe. He frowned. That meant he had to watch his diet. He couldn't eat too much fat or too much wine. He couldn't smoke! No alcohol and no smoking, certainly no laziness and clean food only. Nothing foul, or too exotic. Perhaps he would start seeing if the chef could get food from Alistair's nation. He wanted the child to know Lorien, even if he never set foot there. Who knew this was going to be so complicated? He had an entire other organ in his body to feed.
Vivian immersed himself in the system. There was an interesting set of nodules at the entrance, that all fit next to each other to shut the passage securely when it wasn't in use. The tendrils that had extended beyond it were tucked up inside, twisted up with one another in a relaxed, lazy fashion. He had an amazing sense of control, and at the same time, the womb had a mind of its own. It was a fantastic manifestation of his own magic, and embodied the principle of transformation and change.
This could be nothing other than a blessing from Azunath himself, and he smiled. The god had seen him. The god had given him such a rare gift. He would take care of it, for himself and Alistair. He opened his eyes and withdrew his ether, laying back on the bed and laying his hand on his belly. "I wonder what sort of names you'd like..." he mumbled, chuckling.
Vivian closed his eyes. He had to rest after expending even a little ether. It was largely used to explore himself, but he didn't want to push it with the baby being so young. He breathed deeply, stroking his hand over his belly. Names...what sort of names would Alistair like? Something strong and masculine, for certain. Nothing so feminine as Vivian. "Hmm." he mumbled aloud. "I knew a guy named Aluicious...really liked that name. Sounded like delicious, which he was. I'm not sure if I want to name you after a john though. Roderick has a good ring to it. It's a very strong name. No man would mess with a boy named Roderick. Codi was another good one. I think you're a boy, but even if you turn out to be a girl Cody would work." He rested his hands behind his head. He wished he had thought to get the address of the place that Alistair was staying, but hadn't he said he was staying in a noble house? Perhaps if he sent a letter to a noble house with the addendum that it was for Alistair they could communicate?
Vivian sat up and went down the hallway to knock on Lucas' door. "Hey! Porter!" he barked, as though a higher member of the house was rousing the boy from a nap. He heard the stumbling on the other side of the door and smirked, giving the other man an easy smile when the door was finally opened.
"Good gods man I thought you were the maid!" Lucas sighed in relief. "What is it?"
"You've got better handwriting. Mind if I dictate a letter?" Vivian asked, and slid inside.
