Your past and mine are parallel lines
The walk back from the shrine was a blur.
Her heartbeat thudded in her ears, a steady ba-dump, ba-dump that somehow told her that this wasn't an exceedingly strange dream. This was real.
She was pregnant.
Pregnant.
Her first stop was the clinic, where she asked for a test just to confirm. It wasn't that she didn't believe Safrin - how could she not, when the goddess had been so very clear? - but there was a part of her that just knew there had to be a mistake.
There wasn't.
Armed with instructions to eat well and rest, and with some tips to handle her morning sickness - morning sickness, what?! - Soh returned to Zavien's house, overwhelmed by the new information she'd been given. How was she going to tell him? What was he going to say?
When she opened the door, he wasn't home. Realizing the time, she thought that he must have gone to get them dinner - it was well after twilight now, and stars twinkled outside the window as she shut the door behind her, mocking her with their quiet serenity. For a moment, she simply stood, shock cocooning her, keeping her relatively calm, because she was certain that at any moment, she would wake up in Zavien's arms and shake off the silly dream she was having.
How could she be pregnant?
It wasn't that she was upset, precisely. It was just that when she'd thought of having children, she'd thought that would be years down the road, preferably after discussing the topic with her boyfriend. What stretched before her now was a yawning chasm of the unknown, and the longer she stood thinking about it, the more anxious she became. She struggled to keep a hold on that quiet calm that had pervaded since Safrin had written those words on the parchment, to keep her heart rate down, to keep the stress at bay.
Stress was bad for the baby.
Soh took a deep breath. Her gaze fell on the couch, but the idea of just sitting and waiting for Zavien to come home was terrifying. What came next would determine the course of their entire relationship - of their entire lives. Sure that it was going to be a challenging conversation, Soh's gaze fell to the couch pillows. It felt absurd to make a pillow nest, but at least it was something to pass the time. But there was cause for celebration, too. So, gathering up an armful of blankets, Soh set to work.
When Zavien walked in the door, he would find a pillow nest on the floor, surrounded by chairs holding up a blanket fort - a strange combination promising an equally strange conversation.
Just then, the door knob rattled. Soh's heart leapt into her throat, its rate spiking sharply in her chest. Turning towards the door, she fiddled with the ring on her right hand, twisting it around and around on her finger. The expression on her face was a strange mixture of anticipation and anxiety, her silver gaze still shiny with shock and perhaps tinged with fear.
But there was hope, too: hope that at the end of the day, they could celebrate what was sure to be an exciting addition to their lives.
Her heartbeat thudded in her ears, a steady ba-dump, ba-dump that somehow told her that this wasn't an exceedingly strange dream. This was real.
She was pregnant.
Pregnant.
Her first stop was the clinic, where she asked for a test just to confirm. It wasn't that she didn't believe Safrin - how could she not, when the goddess had been so very clear? - but there was a part of her that just knew there had to be a mistake.
There wasn't.
Armed with instructions to eat well and rest, and with some tips to handle her morning sickness - morning sickness, what?! - Soh returned to Zavien's house, overwhelmed by the new information she'd been given. How was she going to tell him? What was he going to say?
When she opened the door, he wasn't home. Realizing the time, she thought that he must have gone to get them dinner - it was well after twilight now, and stars twinkled outside the window as she shut the door behind her, mocking her with their quiet serenity. For a moment, she simply stood, shock cocooning her, keeping her relatively calm, because she was certain that at any moment, she would wake up in Zavien's arms and shake off the silly dream she was having.
How could she be pregnant?
It wasn't that she was upset, precisely. It was just that when she'd thought of having children, she'd thought that would be years down the road, preferably after discussing the topic with her boyfriend. What stretched before her now was a yawning chasm of the unknown, and the longer she stood thinking about it, the more anxious she became. She struggled to keep a hold on that quiet calm that had pervaded since Safrin had written those words on the parchment, to keep her heart rate down, to keep the stress at bay.
Stress was bad for the baby.
Soh took a deep breath. Her gaze fell on the couch, but the idea of just sitting and waiting for Zavien to come home was terrifying. What came next would determine the course of their entire relationship - of their entire lives. Sure that it was going to be a challenging conversation, Soh's gaze fell to the couch pillows. It felt absurd to make a pillow nest, but at least it was something to pass the time. But there was cause for celebration, too. So, gathering up an armful of blankets, Soh set to work.
When Zavien walked in the door, he would find a pillow nest on the floor, surrounded by chairs holding up a blanket fort - a strange combination promising an equally strange conversation.
Just then, the door knob rattled. Soh's heart leapt into her throat, its rate spiking sharply in her chest. Turning towards the door, she fiddled with the ring on her right hand, twisting it around and around on her finger. The expression on her face was a strange mixture of anticipation and anxiety, her silver gaze still shiny with shock and perhaps tinged with fear.
But there was hope, too: hope that at the end of the day, they could celebrate what was sure to be an exciting addition to their lives.
Stars all aligned and they intertwined
Minor powerplay allowed without permission.
Feel free to use force/magic on Sohalia.
Feel free to use force/magic on Sohalia.
