mahalakshmi | [ open ] i.

Good, I started, but I need them first and foremost. [ Her quiet war in this house, that she has been raging since the day she arrived, that she plans still about, even as his hand settles on her cheek. She leans into it, one slight soft breath before she pulls it down, turning his hand to settle flat to her stomach, her hand laying over his. ]

This child deserves better. [ Fierce and flat as she pushes forward, up onto her knees and then towards him - and if there is a metaphor for the predator she so easily becomes, she doesn't see it. She sees him, sees a child that will be theirs, and the future that is. ] I am Lady Vorrutyer, and it is my belly that carries the line he was so willing to butcher his son's own happiness over. I will not settle for other, I will not let him forget it.

[ Her fingers hold his, and already it's having an affect, not so harsh, the softness that will come when she - erg, gets so fat she cannot reach her own toes. He's the same as any Vor, and she expects any child of his won't be the least bit merciful to her for being such the littler. But even so, it's flat, determined, she'll take it all, do it all. She'll pick his father out of her teeth if need be before she ever, ever lets him have a say in anything to do with her children, and she will remind him daily who had done their duty - as he was so fond of calling it. ] I promised you that, do you not remember? That I would tear to pieces whoever led you to believe these things about yourself.

[ And broiling and bubbling in every moment that they fight, that Byerly and his sister deserved better. ]

Edited 2017-08-02 01:57 (UTC)

[ He pulls his hand back, though, afraid of it. Afraid of the stomach that hasn't started to swell. Because, unsteadily, he says - ]

You can't tear anyone to pieces if you're dead in a hospital bed.

[ And there's something raw, something honest, something desperate in his voice when he confesses: ]

I - cannot stand the thought of you dead. I cannot stand the thought of you hurting, my Lakshmi.

[ Loud as the sound of a plasma shot, for all the words are quiet. ]

Oh -

[ And all the air rushes out of her. Shoulders falling back, softening, the short sharp exhale. Because when did she ever consider herself? That it might be what concerned him. Easier to fight but - she swallows. Moving carefully, before her hand raises up, coming closer in the space. Shifting the blankets the rest of the way off her, settling near to him. Letting him see her move, the way she tended a scared animal. She frames his face, rest her forehead to his and - there's that too, isn't there?

Not to push him, not right now. ]

You won't... you won't lose me. I am yours and yours alone. Whatever else might come of it.

[ He leans back against her. He feels ashamed at his honesty, his rawness, but... ]

Well. You're mine now. I suppose your attentions will be split soon enough, eh?

No. [ He's ... deflecting again. Taken some time, taken getting to know that sharp way he flicks things off. Not very much like her, not so open, can count it, on one hand, the time she's seen him ever look like this. It might be easier for them both, if she did the same back. Say something sharp tongued in return - jealous of your own son already?

But it wouldn't take back what he had said, wouldn't change that look, so chokingly painful to know. Won't take the words back.

Not enough - not enough until she's sure, sure that he'll never think again that he might lose her. won't let him hide it away, either, even if he can't stand to let it see the light of day. Directs herself, hooking herself to slide into his lap, her knees settling to either side of his hips. Like that, like that, such quiet things do not have to reach so far out of them. Secrets like this, are best in corners, where she can protect him, like she promised. That tug of her own ribs apart to keep him there, if she could. Close to her own heart, that middle of herself that is his, now. Can't manage, so she settles for the closest that she can. Her arms over his shoulder, pressing her chest to his as she curls about him. Warm and sure and safe. An easy place where in the early hours, there is no staff, no family, no one at all to watch them and she can offer all of it to him.

Sometimes, she thinks, to be Vor, is to live life in these corners. These sharp turns to hide vulnerability, warmth, these mortal fears that they can not express. Save in places where no one can witness it at all. ]

Will you look at me? [ So simple a thing to ask, how hard it could be to do. ]

[ It's not easy, soon as she asks. Soon as she asks, he wonders what she'll see in his eyes. What vulnerability, what crushing hurt, what fear. He wants to stay hidden even from her, after all - doesn't want her to know how much she can hurt him, how much her hurt will wreck him. He wants to protect himself.

How is it he's already so wrecked by her?

He lifts his eyes, slowly, hesitantly, unhappily. Looks her dead in the face. His hands clench compulsively on her waist. ]

[ Ah - that was something, wasn't it? Her head bows, dutifully, gracefully. Like she wouldn't dream of doing otherwise. But it is a test, all to itself, on that reputation she has heard of. His goodness. His lack of stand on that kind of ceremony. ]

Naturally. I will try to remember it. [ Her mouth opens - pausing. ] I am Parvati. This is... this is my daughter, Devi.

Edited 2017-08-03 11:55 (UTC)

[ He returns her words with a nod. Parvati and Devi. He would remember that and add them to his crew ledger. They would not be forgotten.

He stops as they reach a small cabin some ways down the hall from his own quarters. ]

I can't offer you better accommodations than this, Ms. Parvati. [ That they even had a small, personal room available was a miracle. ]

[ She cards her fingers through his hair - and there is no judgement, no hatred, not even smugness, but only such an unbearable happiness that as he turns his face up, like she couldn't miss it, not for anything. Like this was hers, and for it - for it she would wage a hundred wars, a thousand battles. Flicking between his eyes, like this, mapping that expression, knowing it for what it is. ]

Sometimes you look at me, but... I wasn't sure - [ sure he cared, sure what any of this meant. It would be wrong, wrong to ask more of duty than it already took from them. He had no want or interest in being bound. Neither did she, even if that freedom took different forms for them both. Wouldn't, and couldn't ask, just had to wait to see if he would be ready to give. ] - you are my love, my Byerly. For I do love you. Most ardently. Poison branches and all.

[ Let her pour and pour it out. Until she could burn every doubt out of him. ] This isn't the death of that. Nothing will be the death of that. [ Or of her. ]

It's in the early hours before dawn, that she feels the prickle that wakes her. A sharpness in her spine, a flicker on the inside of her throat that is cold where her breath is hot.

It is not the first.

She wakes often, half awake in a battle-like state. It is to be expected, Duv tells her often, with his fingers gentle in her hair, and a tiredness in his expression that says he wakes like this more than he will admit too in day break. But this, this is too sharp, her senses ticking loud in her ears, the stillness of Blackwater in her body. Her hand sliding against the blankets along his side where her head rests tucked in next to him, resting where she sleeps deeply, normally. Doesn't lift her hand as she - hears, thinks she hears, knows she hears - the footfalls of someone who is not her husband, is not their children, or their staff that she has become familiar with since he became the Imperial Counselor. Knows every sound and creak of this house, her paranoia never allowed for anything less. Not when it came to her or the children.

"Duv." Said without even the slightest thought he wouldn't be awake too. He is all ways, her other half, this whole other part of herself that moves in an extension of her as she does of him. "Get ready to move to the door."

She was a long, long way from home.

Sat in a room nothing like the halls of Jhansi Fortress, her spine straight - cold where the stretch of skin was exposed of her back. She refused to sit back in the chair, she refused to relinquish the sword at her hip, she refused, she refused, she refused so much that they put in front of her. Even if for the position she was, for the wars she had won to hold her title - she is Queen, and the belts that hold her husband's shamsher sword in place, are nothing short of beautiful rather than practical. Matched to the gold she wears, to the heavily embroidered silks that sit stitched with pearls to the embedded ones at the hilt. She is a Queen as grand as England's and every purpose of her whole body, was to never let them forget it:

That she had won her wars, she had laid down the British troops under her horse, her sword, not in spite of herself, but because of all that she was. To her own people's measure, not theirs. That was unapologetically what she was - a woman and a warrior and a queen and the whole body of an independent state.

A body, that as she sits across from Lord Thomas Hamilton, a woman that was better suited to battlefields, than ensuring that England withheld its hold. A queen looking for allies, and a woman that quite frankly, didn't know how to make sense of the society she was trying to drive treaties from. Oh, her being here was the first step in the right direction, so her advisors and the English said - to establishing peace. A chance to smile and play nice with King George.

But that would be to ignore it, not deal with it. She needs to deal with it, and a lifetime of war would prosper no one. It never did. There needed to be peace. A time to rebuild. Her fingers settle in her lap. A little-pained breath - the shot in her shoulder ached in this British weather. A plainly worn scar that is just seen behind the heavy veil that drapes over her body in an attempt to give what the British called modesty ( a thing she had consistently shocked their sense of, with her bare back, her bare feet, if she is Jhansi, as they would say, then she will never wear this skin with shame ). What lies covered now, is the veil that falls sheer but covering down to mid chest.

But behind it, her eyes never, never drop from his. If there is an expectation of rank, that he should lower his gaze, she will not let him. She will watch him until she can pry apart intentions by that gaze alone.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Hamilton."

[ His eyes drop again, his eyes coming closed. His adam's apple bobs. His voice is low. It isn't a relief, exactly - for relief is a feeling of lightness. This isn't anything of the sort. This is the opposite, as a matter of fact. A man without attachments is a free man; a man living a life of nihilism and contempt is relieved of all burdens. She's a weight on him, spiritually as well as physically. Drawing him down to the earth. Keeping him from his light and carefree life. He cares. ]

So what happens next?

[ She doesn't know what she's expecting - not his face to fall, not that sheer heaviness that with something she is so happy to give. But - well, he would never be that kind of man would he? She must console herself that he had always be honest about that.

So she smooths her fingers down, over his shoulders. She has asked enough, at least for now. She trusts ever, that if it mattered, he would come to her. Letting them rest, as she perches back from him. Give him space to breath. ]

Well - aside from no more morning rides? [ And she is terribly miserable about that, but nor is she a fool. But it's an attempt at levity over something he hates her doing, grouching when she gets out of bed in the mornings. ] First, we will need to announce it. Whatever comes of that. I suggest a little latter, until I have found everything out of the doctors, and they have finished their regime for me.

[ She has been sitting long and quiet, with these plans, forming them, and she settles her hands to his upper arms, rolling back. Her belly flat, for now. ] Secondly, we need to start writing our wills. The minute this child is born, we become irrelevant to your family. So I need to make sure that before they start getting ideas, they do not think they will ever have a hand in influence him or her, or any of my money. [ It's harsh, unforgiving, but is too often done. As soon as a child is secured, the parents and their opinions become irrelevant. ] I suggest that a member of my family, or your sister, must be a second on all transactions to do with their inheritance in the event of our death.

Lastly - [ now her hands to move to her belly, smoothing over it, like she can't quite believe what she has been told to be true. A deep, deep breath. That's a life there, ] - I was thinking... blue, for the nursery.

[ Compared to thinking she would spend the weeks crammed in a smuggler's hold - well, it's luxury itself - even if immediately she can feel Devi grumble and mutter to herself in that whined why children are so capable of - This is not like home. But she tsks, Devi quite herself, and she turns to follow into a low bow, like this some how wasn't at all her own plan. ]

Thank you. You are too kind to us. I have nothing to give you - [ grateful, but at least that isn't faked. She had heard he wasn't cruel, but she never expected this decency. Almost, almost feels a little guilty. ]

[ He opens his eyes again, looking at her. There's no hint of lightness in his gaze, for all the levity that she's shared with him. Sign enough of just how huge this is for him - it might be the first thing he was incapable of laughing at. ]

Then...They told you that the child is a...boy? Blue, you said. [ No comments denying the prospect of his family getting ideas. His immediate family wouldn't, but someone like Richars? Entirely possible. ]

[ She shakes her head - not yet. ]

No. They don't know yet. Said I had caught it too early to tell... [ But she sets her jaw, stiffly and proud - the way she gets ever when she has put her mind to something. Flat open determination like this is just a matter of ] But I am sure we will have a son first.

[ Perhaps then, perhaps he will be happy with this then. ] Even so, I certainly always liked blue. [ Rather than the red and dark oranges of her house colours. She quite liked his a sight more than hers. ]

[ He's aware he's been manipulated, but he's taking it in strides. This would easily be seen as a show of weakness to his crew. Whatever else he could do to handle this would have to wait until they had docked and even then he would rather dump her and her child off on whoever they were searching for, should they be easily found.

He waves off her words. ] All I ask is you don't disrupt my ship.

[ He had enough to deal with without stowaways throwing a wrench into things. ]

No matter how settled he had become in his new life, he knew this was an inevitability. That one day they would be left to defend themselves and their family. It was an eventuality he had prepared for.

The sound of something not right hits him, nagging at the back of his mind. It's a sensation that causes him to wake and instead of the half-drowsy state he might find himself in the mornings, he's brought to full alertness within seconds. Part of him wonders if it is a lingering feeling from youth, a dream of the past that he can't quite grasp beyond the feelings of it now that he is awake.

It's her voice that tells him he's not the only one who recognizes it. Someone is in their home that does not belong there, someone who slipped past their security net. There's no hesitation as he steps out of bed, feet light and quiet, and reaches for a stunner he keeps within easy reach. The wristcom that is almost always glued to him is there too and he presses a button on the side of it that sends an alert to Imperial Security that something is wrong. Very wrong.

There's no need for him to reply vocally, his wife knows him well and knows he is up and ready. Whatever was coming for them, they would be facing it together.

[ She bows her head, that after all, is her goal. ]

Of course, we will keep to ourselves.

[ It's then that she picks up Devi properly in her arms, scooping the girl to settle on her hip. Letting her settle against her side and giving a doting kiss. That at least, there is no faking. Even if Devi still scowled something fiercely and protectively back. ]

They will hardly know we are here, will they, Devi? [ And she nods, because well - anything her mother asked. ]

[ He's watching the pair carefully. Devi was young, but he had seen what children could be made to do with particularly ambitious adults. He would have to warn his crew to keep an eye on the pair and not underestimate a child poking around where she didn't belong. Thankfully they weren't carrying sensitive cargo, but he couldn't afford to have any pieces going missing. His father would have his head if he found out about this and it ruined the shipment.

He lets out a small sigh. ] The next meal will be served in two hours time. I trust you can wait that long?

She reaches in turn for her sword, kept beside her bed in the same instinct that he kept the stunner close by. Not so far behind him once he moves, once she's sure, she moves herself, to follow after him.

Her concerns plain. Knows they can handle themselves, knows, from the few times this has ever come about - that she doesn't have to worry about his abilities, even if her body would come between him and anything that went to hurt him, out of sheer instinct than the idea he truly needed her protection. A need, that now fuels her - needs him with the only thing that they both hold more than that.

"Go to the children, I'll cover you." A sharp jut of her chin in the distraction, even if her voice is no more than a murmur to keep it between them. Whoever it is, whatever it is - could be dealt with if they showed themselves.

Duv doesn't need the prompting. Their concerns rest in the same place. They could defend themselves, but their children... They were too young, not forced to do what either of their of their parents had been at their age. It was an innocence Duv knew could not last forever, but it was one he wished to preserve as long as possible.

Or at least that had been his thought until intruders were in their home. If they had wanted to kidnap their children and hold them for ransom or worse then they may already be too late.

Stunner at the ready, Duv slips into the hallway outside of their room and begins the walk to their children's, one that feels impossibly long right now. He doesn't glance back at his wife, knowing full well that she would be right behind him, watching.

[ Finally, finally, a sign of levity - a dry little snort. ]

What, going to force the Y chromosomes into the fetus by sheer force of will? That's ambitious, even for you. I think it'll be a girl.

[ It's a relief, almost, to hear that sound. The last thing she wanted - and the only thing that had worried her endlessly once she got the news - was losing him entirely over this. ]

I'll hold off making you go to family dinners for a month, if it turns out to be a girl.

Mm. And if it's a boy?

[ open ] i.

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