From being an Abandoned who had rarely left the Hollowed Grounds, to embracing the call of adventure, to dying and being reborn first as an Ascended and then as an Ancient, Maea has gone through quite the amount of changes in her life. One thing remains common, though, in her attempts to find out just where she belongs; she’s always had a craving for knowledge which has brought her to so many places and to meet so many people here in Caido. We can’t wait to see what else is in store for her!
Congratulations, Maea!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
Skinning and hosting by the epically talented Kaons, and functionality fanciness by the coding magic of Neowulf. If you ever see either of them around, make sure to show them some love!
Usually it was only Harper who commuted, but not this time. Sometimes news couldn't wait for planned visits. Such was the case that brought Phoebe to Torchline.
Of course, that meant he hadn't been home at the inn when she had gone to find him. Impromptu visits didn't exactly allow for perfect coordination. However, that didn't mean people hadn't seen Harper or where he went. It took a few stops but thankfully, bewitching as she was now with her glamour magic, it didn't take her long to find the right path. She may have batted her eyelashes a little bit. But she was sure Harper would forgive her when he understood the urgency of the news she came with.
Wearing sandals and the short, lowcut, barely there dress Frey had bestowed upon her after she had awoken as a demigoddess, Phoebe walked into the Hanged Man with a focused gaze. Apparently Harper had decided to stop by for a quick drink, the lucky man, and thankfully he was quick to find. With a grin she hurried over, long, perfectly golden locks bouncing behind her. "Surprise!" she chirped as she perched on the stool next to his, bright grin still plastered on her face.
11-07-2021, 11:13 PM (This post was last modified: 11-07-2021, 11:20 PM by Harper.)
Harper
Harper is not much of a drinker. While he enjoys visiting the bar (mostly to talk shit with Raza and to dance) any kind of substance that lowers his inhibitions is almost always off the table. As such he's clearheaded and amiably chatting with a fisherman at his side when the man's eyes cut away from Harper, come back, and then cut away again this time to linger. When it's clear the man isn't hearing his words any longer, Harper's curiosity gets the better of him and he is just beginning to spin the stool to figure out what has the man's attention when suddenly there's another person sitting down beside him.
Though admittedly surprised, it's only a moment of being stunned before Harper is grinning like a loon and leaning to crush Phoebe to his chest. "You minx! You didn't even tell me you were coming!" He's certainly not complaining however. Pulling away, he looks her over - habit, at this point - and dark brows rise at the oddly...too-perfect nature of her appearance. "Is this something new?" playfully he pulls at a lock of her hair, and though he notes the eyes lingering over his wife, Harper is not a very jealous man. He already won, after all. What's there to be jealous about? So instead he leans forward to kiss Phoebe sweetly, not wanting to get too wrapped up in talking lest he somehow forget to.
can we go back to the world we had? with a love so sweet it makes me sad
Phoebe laughed at his exclamation, the noise muffled as she was crushed against his chest. "I hadn't been planning on it, that's why." she said with a grin. It was a surprise to them both really that Phoebe found herself in Torchline. But that meant she was there for him and him alone...which should have been a hint that something larger was afoot. Phoebe had many new patients in Stormbreak and only came back to the coastal settlement when business called.
She glanced at the lock of hair briefly, but then smiled and nodded. "Woke up this way." she said. Apparently new signs of her partial divinity were beginning to show themselves. Given Frey's ability to change to the form one found most pleasing, this change seemed very sensical. For the moment though, she ignored or failed to notice the eyes on her from around the bar. She had important news! "But that's not why I came." she said, taking one of his hands in both of hers. "Remember the conversation we had back in Deepfrost right before Longnight? About a family?" she asked coyly, despite being unable to hide the grin on her face.
The admission does prick his ears, and helps to turn his excitement into something more manageable as his sharp mind begins to pick apart what it was that had led her to Torchline's sunny shores. Moue of consideration leading to him gently letting go of the hair once in his grasp, only forcing the slight frown off his lips when she speaks again - no sense in worrying so soon, and even less sense in being any sort of sad when she is here. Present and warm and real, more than just a dream or figment of his imagination when he misses her.
Her hands are warm where they takes his own, and Harper squeezes one of them habitually before dragging his eyes back up to hers. The joyful mischief he finds there makes his heart stutter, and it fully skips in the next sentence. But no, it was way too easy to assume and be far too hopeful for no reason - they'd always been careful! So although his own heart is starting to race, Harper leans closer on the barstool until their knees are touch, and places his free hand overtop the two she uses to hold the other hostage. "Of course, how could I forget?"
can we go back to the world we had? with a love so sweet it makes me sad
For once she didn't concern herself with the brief look of worry on his features. Soon enough he would know there was no need for it.
How could he forget? How could he not jump to the conclusion! But the way he leaned forward and gripped her hands made clear he had he just wasn't saying it. Why would he, when the times they had failed in their carefulness were so few and far between - and more recent attempts were, well, too recent. But there had been times when they had slipped up, and it was to their present luck that they had. "I went and saw the doctors in Stormbreak like you wanted." she said, letting him sit and squirm with the discomfort of not knowing for certain.
But she didn't let him suffer for long.
"I'm pregnant." she said, finally dropping the news directly, so he needn't wonder or assume or imagine the reality that she alone could confirm.
In fact, Harper is sure they'd only ever messed up once, and just as his ears are beginning to heat as the memory comes back in technicolor recollection, Phoebe spares him the embarrassment of getting aroused in a public bar by distracting him with worrying. It's highly effective when Harper is a worrier at heart of course, and though her general demeanor is far too excited to mean anything horrible, it doesn't stop a variety of outlandish scenarios from beginning to take root.
Just as his lips are parting to urge her onward, hating to sit still even without something like this on the table, Phoebe puts him out of his misery as if aware his childlike levels of patience are running out.
And speaking of childlike...
The words don't compute for a moment, dark brows still knitted in concern. He blinks. Blinks again.
Blue eyes slowly begin to widen, until they're at risk of falling right out of his skull.
Mouth opens soundlessly.
Hands go limp around Phoebe's.
There is a prolonged stillness where Harper is certain he is turning to stone, that he will soon become a new art fixture in the Hanged Man. And then like someone put time on fast forward, every reaction from there is like a car crash on amphetamines.
"You're...pregnant. You're pregnant? You're pregnant!" And then he's launching out of his seat and grabbing Phoebe (carefully, so so carefully!) around the waist to spin her around, cheering to the rafters and drowning out any other pitiful noises the busy bar could hope to try and compete with. "You're pregnant! You're pregnant!" It's a crowing chant as he bounces them around, refusing to let Phoebe's feet touch the floor as he draws every eye and ear in the entire establishment, forcing every unfortunate bar-goer to bear witness to his euphoria. Setting Phoebe down he turns to the bar at large, eyes brimming with tears and cheeks pink with exertion and the massive smile on his face. "I'm going to be a dad!" A few patrons cheer, while others grumble and go back to their drinks. Harper doesn't care at all, turning to cup Phoebe's face in his hands and press kisses all over her skin. "I'm going to be a dad," he whispers just for her, and happy tears drip onto her cheeks from his own.
can we go back to the world we had? with a love so sweet it makes me sad
Phoebe wasn't sure what to expect. But for a moment she worries, seeing the same blank expression on his face that Emmett once wore. However, her concerns were for naught, as she was suddenly swooped up (carefully, so so carefully) into his arms. His reaction calmed any fears she held from lovers passed. He was overjoyed - and she could not have asked for more than that.
She laughed, arms wrapping around his neck to cling to him for security - not that it was necessary but in her head it was. "Yes! Yes I am!" she said with a laugh at the ruckus he was suddenly causing in the middle of the Hanged Man. Though she was sure the bar had seen much worse, more violent rows within its walls, she still felt a slight flush rise in her cheeks.
Maybe she should have told him to come home first. Oh well. Too late now.
Eventually her feet touched the ground again and she laughed as kisses suddenly rained down on her face. "You're going to be a great dad." she said softly, wiping tears from his cheeks. Those that fell onto her face beaded as though her skin was waxed and rolled off with ease, leaving her skin still perfect and dry.
Their combined laughter drowns out anything else hoping to compete from their surroundings. Harper could be on the moon in that moment, and he wouldn't even notice. With Phoebe in his arms and her ringing assurances in his ears, nothing else in the entire universe could hope to steal his attention. There is no embarrassment or shame to be found in him - unlike Phoebe he was an entertainer at birth, and any frog-faced grumps amidst those wishing them well matter absolutely nothing to him.
Even the supernatural weirdness of her skin doesn't register as her hands rise to wipe away his tears. Grinning cheeks swell beneath her thumbs, and Harper presses his forehead to hers and embraces her fully, palms running restlessly over her spine. "And you're going to be an amazing mother," he whispers. Of that he has no doubts. Wanting a child doesn't make one a natural mother, but the first day he'd ever met Phoebe he'd seen how she interacted with her nephews, and even then he'd known how perfectly she suited the role. Lifting her up into a bridal carry, Harper strides out of the bar without a backwards glance, abandoning his still-full drink; the fisherman will surely enjoy it on his behalf.
Out into the still-crisp spring air he carries his wife, and settles her into one of the outdoor seats where it's far more private and less noisy. Kneeling at her side in imitation of when he'd asked her to start a family in the first place, Harper gently lifts one scarred hand to lay over her stomach. There's nothing there, and he knows this logically, but he can't help but stare in wonder where his fingers lay splayed over her navel. "We're going to have a baby," he utters, completely awed. Looking up at her, he blinks wet eyes at her and grins anew. "A baby. Gods, Phoebe." And then realization hits belatedly, and his free hand comes up to run through his dark hair, embarrassed enough that his cheeks and ears bleed pink. "It was when we blessed the sheets for Frey, wasn't it?" Idiot man, he thinks at himself fondly.
can we go back to the world we had? with a love so sweet it makes me sad
Phoebe had already cried tears of joy once that day - a strange experience given the new properties of her person - and tears threatened again at his words. And you're going to be an amazing mother. Doubt was always quick to creep in, and Frey had once told her she was far from ready. Only now in reflection, with perfect hindsight, could she understand what her beloved friend meant. She hadn't been ready then. Her life hadn't been ready. She had been an emotional mess and terribly alone even in crowded rooms. But now, with Harper holding her in his arms with joy, she knew the pieces she had been missing had fallen into place.
And once again she was up in the air, this time with far less spinning involved, and her head tilted to rest on his shoulder as giggles ran their course. A hand lifted to run through his hair as he stared at her still flat stomach, as if he might peer right in to see the life within. "Yes we are." she said again, still grinning as reality finally seemed to be sinking in to weigh on his shoulders. And his assumptions as to when? Well... "It is hard to say for sure, but more than likely yes." she said. "I've had morning sickness for a little while now, but wanted to wait to see the doctors for your sake." Her own experience had been enough for her, but Harper was a man of science. He likely needed some corroboration that a simple midwife couldn't give him.
Now is the perfect time. Perhaps not with the war, no, but in all the other ways that mattered. Mentally and emotionally ready, their relationship at its best, security in roles and personal strength. The Harper that had first arrived in Caido would not have ever been ready for this moment. They are exactly who they need to be in this moment to be nothing but welcoming and ecstatic over this new addition.
Harper can't help but give a bit of a smug expression at her admittance. "So I was right is what you're saying?" he teases, bright and happy as his hand falls away from his hair to pinch playfully at her thigh. She'd tried to convince herself that her vomiting the last time they'd seen each other had been from overeating. "Pays to be a worrywart sometimes, huh?" It ensured they'd found out much sooner than they might have otherwise. "Should we...change anything, about what we're doing? Being apart the way we are?" Happiness tampered down by responsibility and planning. He'd effectively raised and trained hundreds of young kids in his time as a vigilante. Even he can't drift on a cloud of bliss forever before his analytical mind takes over.
can we go back to the world we had? with a love so sweet it makes me sad
"No that is not what I am saying." Phoebe said with a light laugh, shifting away from his pinching fingers on reflex. "You thought I was sick. And I am not." she said in protest to him being right, if only for teasing's sake. But really, they had both been wrong. She had neither overeaten nor been ill - just pregnant with a food fussy baby.
But as far as changing how things were...well...that was a more serious topic to discuss indeed. Phoebe sobered slightly, looking down at her lap. She had yet to consider it, but now that it was mentioned, she couldn't help but wonder. "We probably should change something." she agreed, though she wasn't sure what. She was called to do whatever it was that Frey needed her to do, and he was called to Torchline by Maeve. "I am not sure what or how though." she admitted. There was a reason they were doing things they way they had been after all.
Harper blows a raspberry at her semantics, eyes crinkled joyously even as the dismissive noise leaves his pursed lips. "I'll get you to say it someday, mark my words," he chuckles, fingers tracing idle patterns on her skin. She is all at once newly delicate to him and profoundly strong now that he knows she's pregnant. It's a contrast he can't hope to put words to, and one he's sure to struggle with in the months to come.
It won't be the first or last struggle however, and he knows this. As evidenced by the problem they now face. Harper is loathe to bring the mood down, but already he is getting 'nesting' urges to say the least, ones only worsened by his Attuned state of being. Leaving her before was hard enough. Asking him to do it now would be nigh impossible when his instincts are screaming at him to keep her close. "Does Frey need you physically in Stormbreak, or do you just need to work in tandem with the other demigods?" It feels unfair to even insinuate that she has more freedom to move back to Torchline, but maybe she does. Harper doesn't know the status of the war, or the Gods plans for their chosen ones. "So long as your quest for the garden is underway, maybe you can stay in Torchline with me until the baby is born?"
can we go back to the world we had? with a love so sweet it makes me sad
Phoebe considered his question, eyes falling to the slight space between them as if it might hold all the answers for her. Her mind went to Remi and Ronin, who now resided in the Greatwood despite both being demigods. "No. I don't think I need to be." she said slowly after a time. She had some clients at the brothels in Stormbreak but not many, and likely her garden would not end up within its walls either. Staying in Torchline was definitely doable. Sort of.
"But what about monsoon season?" she said, knowing it was right around the corner. The last thing she wanted was to put her unborn child in danger because a roof or wall collapsed from gale force winds and torrential rains. Unless he knew a place that would be safe for certain, she wasn't sure Torchline was the best place to be in the short term either.
There's relief to be found at her contemplative admission. "I'd be scared of what might happen if they were Abandoned too. If they might somehow become ill." Mind completely blocking out far worse notions, incapable of dwelling on such potentials. It almost feels manipulative to use the health of the baby as leverage, but it's done out of his own sincere concern, and the awareness that Phoebe would likely not mentally survive another loss of a child. Harper doubts he would either, and this was his first.
He begins to idly massage her hands, thinking. "A barrier was created with Safrin to protect against the monsoons, but it has yet to be tested. Could we put the wagon somewhere until we know it is safe for you to be in Torchline with the monsoons?" Perhaps the Oerwoud, or somewhere else bordering Torchline, where she was closer at hand?
can we go back to the world we had? with a love so sweet it makes me sad
