A New Life

[Vivian]

86th of Frost, 4622

Vivian's eyes snapped open. He must be in some sort of infirmary. He was on a simple white bed, and windows had let morning sun filter through and irritate his eyes. It was clean, and smelled like antiseptic. Likewise, all of the blood was gone...along with his clothing. No matter, he usually slept naked. He sighed, and leaned his head back on the small but comfortable pillow to take stock of himself. He felt like he had been run over with a cart. He ached all over, but especially from the waist down. He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut again. His belly wasn't swollen anymore. He could still feel the ether rearranging it, repairing it from the trauma of the birth and resorting it back to normal. Unsurprisingly, he was recovering quicker than a normal birth. He already felt somewhat normal, and it was nice to have his flat stomach back. Why did it feel like his entire lower half had been smashed apart and pushed back together? Moreover, why did his chest ache? He risked looking down at himself. His mouth dropped open.

There was a tiny babe, nestled securely into a cotton sling around his torso and latched onto one of his nipples. Vivian stared. Was that...?

A mixture of confusion, love and relief flooded him. He lifted his arms slowly, wrapping them around the sling and bending his head to kiss the tiny head. The little one smelled so sweet, so new. He was beautiful, and clean, and healthy. Especially judging by the strong, greedy pull the little fiend had on his nipple. Vivian smiled, nuzzling against him. The baby mumbled, releasing him. It rolled awkwardly in the sling, and looked up at him with gigantic green eyes. Vivian's skull was pounding, his eyes burned, his stomach was all at once voraciously hungry and wanting him to expel every meal he'd ever eaten...but looking into those large eyes was worth it. It was worth everything. Ascension, losing his livelihood for six months, journeying here, and being kidnapped. It was worth everything to see that little one. He gingerly touched the wispy traces of hair. What a lovely color...mahogany?

Vivian checked the baby over, touching the little wrinkled hands and feet. All ten fingers, and all ten...oh. Vivian frowned. The kid's left foot was twisted, folding inward a little. He kissed it anyway. The little one still had a good leg, and he was beautiful. Besides, it wasn't like he would be walking for a few seasons yet. He was perfect to Vivian, and that was all that mattered. Now he just needed a name, and Vivian knew the perfect one.

"Hello there, Laurent." Vivian said softly. "Laurent Hakon Kreine."

[Hakon]

Hakon had come by that same evening, as instructed by Mother Grün, but Vivian had not yet roused. He was told that Vivian was not in danger, but that he was delicate, and they did not want to risk waking him unless something indicated that the baby was in danger. When he came back the morning of the second day, he was informed that The Event was occurring, and told in no uncertain terms to leave the premises and not come back until called for. He ignored the directive and came back daily anyhow, but was turned away each time. First, Vivian was too delicate, then he was too out of it. He was able to secure the knowledge that the baby had been born, and was born deformed but alive. Given the rough lead up to its birth, Hakon was thankful and spent a full day in the chapel praising the living gods for the happy news.

So it was on the fifth day that someone from the clinic was dispatched to find him in the training yard where he was working on burying his throwing stars into short-range targets. He wasn't particularly good at it, but with practice, he was improving. When he'd started, he missed the target as often as he hit, and now he hit them most often, though not always where he wanted. He would keep working at it.

At the news, he dismissed the throwing stars from existence and took off at a trot for the clinic without pausing to even wash up. He'd forgotten that he didn't have the stamina to do such things right now, and had to pause in the middle of what should have been an infinitesimal amount of effort to him to rest and catch his breath. Then he walked the rest of the way as fast as he could without panting.

When he burst in to the clinic, he was glared at and shushed and told to behave himself. He glared back, but worked on quieting down and slowing his movements. It did nothing to dampen his excitement.

He was shown to the small room that had housed Vivian these last five days, and walked in to visit.

"Ah -- good afternoon, Vivian," Hakon said, not bothering to hide a big, relieved smile. "You're doing okay? And your, ah, charge? He is well?"

[Vivian]

Vivian spent the morning taking care of Laurent. He had some basic experience with children growing up in the brothel, but didn’t know much beyond feeding and changing. Even then, the Necromancer had to step in a few times to help him; his stomach muscles were still recovering. Not to mention the vicious headache he knew was from overstepping but that he dismissed to Mother Grun as a minor concussion. After all someone could believe he’d hit his head walking down the stairs.

It was becoming apparent that babies were a hell of a lot more work than he’d thought. Laurent drank from his sore chest, napped, relieved himself, and was usually awake long enough to coo at Vivian for a few hours. Vivian was enchanted. His little grip was so strong, and that bum leg didn’t seem to bother him too much. Laurent chased his fingers, giggling and grasping at him. Those huge eyes were soaking up everything about the world, and Vivian desperately wanted to show him all of the good things.

The Doppelgänger felt like he’d gone through a bit of a birth himself. Power hummed in his veins. The images of the other mages were there if he needed them, much like Bara and the insects. He made a mental note to eliminate all but Hakon; he only had a limited amount of space. He would treasure Hakon’s image…it was his key to escaping.

When Hakon was shown in, Vivian lifted his head and smiled. “Laurent Hakon Kreine.” He said proudly, and shifted the little one in his arms to show Hakon. Laurent squirmed, staring up at Hakon with those luminous green eyes. “Isn’t he the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” Vivian didn’t even try to hide the adoration in his voice.

[Hakon]

The inclusion of his name on the lad's progeny was not lost on Hakon.

"He's named in part for me?" Hakon said in a tone barely above a whisper. He approached Vivian's bedside and looked at Laurent in more detail.

He had never really seen a baby this close before. Women made them and cared for them, and he was glad for that. That had been about the extent of it. He had no real insight into that sphere, confined as he was to the tower.

Until now, it appeared. Laurent seemed impossibly small to Hakon, and quite delicate. He used Ethersight on the baby, just to make sure there were no disturbances that he could see, and found nothing. Visually, the foot looked a bit odd -- perhaps that was the mentioned deformity -- but otherwise he seemed healthy. Vivian's, on the other hand, was still a roiling morass of ether but to Hakon that made sense. His mark had sustained him through a pregnancy and now through a birth. Pregnancy transformed women's bodies normally, so too must Vivian's Mark transform him so that he could provide for Laurent.

"He's indeed beautiful," Hakon said in response to the question. "If we can, though, I'd like to talk about you, Vivian. I am glad to see you look so... normal. When I found you, you had collapsed. I feared the worst. I am relieved you have made a recovery." He made no more mention of his role in how Vivian had come to be in the clinic. It was not relevant, and it would just sound like he was asking the other man to thank him, when in reality, no thanks were necessary. Hakon was grateful and relieved to find that his friend was none the worse for wear, given what had transpired in the last five days.

He also had not forgotten about the blood trail, but there were too many people bustling around the clinic, and someone could be by the door. If Vivian said something untoward, he wanted them to be somewhere more private.

[Vivian]

Vivian raised an eyebrow. He knew he’d passed out in the beginning parts of labor; he’d barely begun bleeding when the darkness had claimed him. How long had he sat there on the floor? Hours? The way Hakon was speaking it was like the man had found him. Had Hakon rescued him and brought him to the clinic? It seemed like a social visit as well. He didn’t suspect a thing, did he? Vivian racked his brain; he’d been just near the Chapel when he had gone into labor hadn’t he. Could he sell Hakon on late night prayer? Perhaps.

He smiled at him instead. No use borrowing trouble. “If you saved me then you definitely deserve to have a kid named after you.” Vivian pointed out, and kissed Laurent’s cheek. He didn’t know if it was the hormones, but he adored every bit of the little bugger. His smell, his little coos and hiccups. Vivian was in love.

The Malformist sat up a bit, wincing. “Damn stomach still hurts…” he mumbled. “I think I hit my head. Skull’s been ringing all day. Other than that I’m fine. And my tits aren’t too big.” Vivian snickered, showing Hakon his slightly swollen chest. “Did they talk to you? When can we go back to my room?”

He hugged Laurent to him, and glanced at Hakon. “…want to hold him? Gotta be careful, support his head and body.” Vivian offered.

[Hakon]

Hakon shook his head. "Mother Grün saved you. If I did anything for you, it was being the one to find you and to ensure you were in good condition before I left you to fetch her. Nothing more heroic than that," he said, eliding using his magic on Vivian until he'd almost passed out.

He'd already heard two of the people in the clinic gossiping about him, about how he "wasn't as bad as they'd thought." He had no interest in telling Vivian about his apparent heroics. He did not want the Novus to think that he wanted to be looked at differently for doing what was nothing more than his duty.

"I'd offer to help you with the head injury, but you are already in a clinic being overseen by a skilled necrodoctor. My facility with Grave, such as it is, is unlikely to help more than that. I'm a bit depleted at the moment, anyhow." So saying, he grabbed a small chair from up against the wall and pushed it to Vivian's bedside. Once it was in position, he sat down in it heavily.

His vision was spinning and his head was pounding. He had to take a few deep breaths through it before it dissipated.

"My apologies, Vivian. I am a bit unwell this week, I think," he said. He knew he looked quite pale and drawn, still. Grave had that effect on him with overuse -- he seemed to kind of wither for a week or so. "I'm positive it shall pass," he said with a firm smile in place. He didn't want the other man to worry. "I'd be delighted to hold Laurent. Before I do, though, I'd just like to watch you do it for a bit."

He molded his hands like Vivian's, cradling an invisible infant, adjusting one hand until he felt he was holding the hypothetical infant's neck like Vivian was doing. "If I do it like this, will it be okay? I don't want to hurt him."

[Vivian]

Vivian studied Hakon for a moment. He was pale and drawn, shaking a little. He was suffering some sort of mild overstepping…and he was a Grave mage. Had the man healed him? He had saved his life in any case, and likely Laurent’s as well, given that being born in a freezing stairwell couldn’t have been good for the babe or himself. He said nothing. Hakon clearly wanted to be humble about it, but it spoke volumes that the man had gone to such lengths to save him. It cemented in Vivian’s mind that perhaps he wasn’t so irredeemable after all. Especially since Hakon wasn’t stupid, and he had been bleeding going down the stairs as well as on the landing. Had he put two and two together? It wasn’t lost on Vivian that Hakon being overextended was a perfect time for his escape. He wanted the man weak.

Vivian pushed the thoughts away. Nothing he could do about it now. He watched Hakon mimic his hold, smiling and nodding. “That’s it. He’s very delicate and can’t hold his own head up yet.” He mentioned. “And…thank you. For everything.”

For the use of his face. For saving his child. For things he couldn’t say and desperately wanted to. Vivian offered Hakon Laurent, carefully shifting himself so he could hand the baby off safely. “Tuck him close.” He warned. “He hasn’t fussed a lot.”

Laurent looked more fascinated by Hakon than anything, giggling at him.

[Hakon]

When Vivian handed Laurent over, he wasn't sure what he was expecting, exactly. He'd never held an infant before. He'd never even really been near children, really, or only in the sense of their mere proximity. Children did not come to the guild during the normal course of events, and if they did they did not tend to stay long.

He cradled Laurent as Vivian had directed, holding him to his chest and gazing at him. The infant seemed to gaze back, and made odd little gurgling noises. He wasn't sure if that was good or bad, but he was rather taken with them and made a few noises back, the kind of comforting nonsense noises that one made to upset horses. He brought his nose down to the top of Laurent's head, He smelled intoxicating, like unlike anything Hakon had ever sniffed. If asked, he would not be able to articulate what he'd expected, but he hadn't expected a newborn to smell different from a person in any significant way. What he knew about babies could fill a thimble, though.

When he gave Laurent back to Vivian, he was stunned to realize it had been the better part of a quarter hour, and he only did so because the young thing began to fuss and he didn't know what to do.

"I'm sorry," he said to Vivian, returning Vivian's son to him. "I don't know what I did to make him upset."

He handed him back as though he were made of spun glass. To Hakon, he was, if not something more fragile still.

"While you were indisposed, I ensured that your Warden had done his duty. Every Mage's Guild chapter has confirmed they have received word of Alistair, and the letter to his last known place of address in Grisic has been dispatched. We have not yet heard back, but Grisic is quite far away, so I am sure his response has just not yet arrived," Hakon lied.

He was not sure, at all. He was not sure that the letter would find its target. If it did, he was not sure that Alistair would care. Anyone willing to let the person carrying their child out of their sight for even a moment was not comprehensible to him, so maybe Alistair would make other choices that were incomprehensible to Hakon, like throwing away his chance to be a father. Still, it had bought Vivian time. He had argued on Alistair's behalf to Vivian's Warden, and he would gladly do so again. The man deserved a chance to respond, and Laurent deserved a proper home if one could be furnished for him, not an orphanage.

[Vivian]

Vivian felt bittersweet watching Hakon hold his child. It wasn’t as though his friend was doing poorly; Vivian knew he could catch the child in an instant if he was dropped. Hakon was leaning down to touch and smell his baby, and Vivian watched him with a mixture of sadness and joy. Alistair should have been there. He should have been there for the birth of his son. Laurent should have been seen and loved and held. He should be celebrating, loudly and joyfully, not dreading that Hakon would straighten up and tell him he’d had the babe for long enough.

The sound of Laurent beginning to fuss brought Vivian back to reality, and he herded the baby back into his arms. “It’s nothing you did. His eyes are still developing, so he’ll get scared…especially away from me.” Vivian reassured Hakon. He hushed Laurent, and guided the babe back to his nipple.

When he looked back up at Hakon his eyes were filled with hope. The Mages Guild was evil but was there even the sliver of a chance they could find Alistair? The man had a mansion in Grisic, surely someone would hear and come? It was Alistair’s first child after all. Yet…that hope was doused the more he thought of it. Laurent was a bastard, despite all of Vivian’s efforts. Alistair’s family might not come to see him at all….or worse, take it as a threat.

Nonetheless it bought him time. He needed a few days to recover physically. His overstepping he could muscle through; it wasn’t nearly as bad as when he’d attempted to copy a face from memory. No. New power flooded his veins. He would be fine by the spring. Until then vicious headaches, nausea, and a little deja vu were small prices to pay. He could do this. He just had to be ready when opportunity struck.

“…Thank you. For not taking him away when I was asleep.”
Vivian said truthfully, kissing Laurent’s forehead. There was no question. If anyone in that tower raised a hand to steal Laurent from him, he would sooner turn into a monster than see him vanish. “I…” Vivian swallowed thickly, blinking away tears and looking earnestly into Hakon’s eyes. “…How much time have we got?”

Vivian pulled Laurent a little closer, as though scared Hakon would lunge for him.

[Hakon]

For the first time in many years, Hakon felt a twinge of something stirring: doubt. Doubt that what was best for Laurent was to go into an orphanage away from a parent that had willingly accepted being branded and partially sundered in return for a safe place for his child to be born. He had been scarcely older when his mother had passed from this world, leaving his dad to do his best with him. He had apparently been lucky that a woman in the village was able to help with him until he was weaned and onto mush; had it not been for her kindness, he would not have made it. He had no memory of this time, of course, but his dad had mentioned it to him after they'd fled Daravin back to Radenor and he'd asked about his mother.

Now, Laurent was to be consigned to a similar fate, except he wouldn't even have a father to look after him. Hakon did not know much about orphanages. Maybe having other kids around would be nice, at leas; the worst part about being eight years old in the tower was that the nearest people to his age were in the midst of their adolescence and it had been lonely before he'd given up on the idea that he'd have friends. The rest of it, though... all alone, with a club foot, doing his best, separated from the parent that wanted him and spurned by the one that didn't.

It didn't feel right. It didn't feel fair. Hakon didn't believe in fairness, as life had demonstrated to him from a young age that it was a made up concept, like mercy, or justice. But it was one thing to acknowledge that life had no inherent fairness to it. It was another to be asked to perpetuate that against an infant.

Vivian had asked him a question, he realized, and he'd tarried overly long. Best to blame it on overdoing it with Grave.

"My apologies for the lapse. I find myself just a bit fatigued, Vivian. The letter was sent out last week, and should have reached Grisic by now. My understanding is that once it reaches Grisic from Jorikford, it is quite a fast process due to their... progress," he said the word as though it were distasteful, which to him it was. "So the postal overseer said we should be receiving word from him within the next five days. Until you are well enough to go yourself, I am happy to check on your behalf, if you'd like."