Private Tales Heart On A Chain

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Ceilidh only flinched a few times at his words. He was right, of course. He was always, irritatingly so, right.

Her right hand was holding his which left her left hand to travel to his cheek. He was angry. She had not seen him like this in a long time.

"Asemir," she said calmly. She was silent and just studied his sharp gaze before she spoke again. "Yes, Mab knows. It a round about way that if she asked direct questions, she can answer without lying. What if it was me? What if I was being abused? Would you not do everything in your power to get me out of the situation?"

She was not ashamed to play on their friendship and his love for her.
 
That only made the issue worse.

What the hell was Mab thinking? Allowing Ceilidh to smuggle Night Court women here? To the very heart of Winter? That neither of them had their throats slit was an absolute blessing! This monumental breach of security could not possibly be overlooked and feth, now that he knew about he he was going to have to bring it up with Mab. Ruler to Ruler.

"Do not-" his tone rumbled out between grit teeth, hand hardening into a fist beneath the gentle touch of her own, "you cannot possibly fathom the threat you put yourself and everyone else here under." He'd met the Princes face to face more times than he could ever care to keep track of. That he'd done so with civility was a testament to the great control he exercised over his own emotions. It would not be so were he the man he was in his youth.

"I do not doubt your noble heart, Ceilidh, it is a fine cause to stand behind - but the operation as it stands must cease immediately. If and when you move to Dusk, we can discuss setting up a secure sanctuary, away from the mainlands of the Courts, where we can resume your humanitarian efforts. Safely."
 
If.

Her emotions were so torn at the moment and the baby did not help matters. The damn thing liked to make her cry for no reason.

She was mad.

She was sad.

She was scared.

So she cried. She could not help it. The tears filled her eyes and just fell down her cheeks as she looked up at Asemir.

"If?"

Yes, she had completely disregarded the nice suggestion he had made.
 
Every goddamn time.

He knew it was coming, could sense the trepidation of her heart, the fear washing over her. It was that sense of fear and bravado that had made him so effective at many things where warfare and power were concerned. That he could not, in turn, feel fear made these situations very tricky. He could understand the repercussions of his decisions well before making them, but he could not fear making those that would effect him poorly in the end.

But crying women always tugged at his heartstrings and it was not fear he felt, but shameless pity. How he hated it.

The edge of his angered gaze diminished as he dared to look down at the weeping fae, but his expression remained stony. This was a very serious subject; the Dusk Court's security was his highest priority.

"You have to pass the Proving," he told her, "and I cannot help you with that. If you do not pass, you cannot live within the Court."
 
"Oh, I knew that..."

She had known that. She knew in the back of her mind that that was what she meant but the rest of her mind was a jumble of thoughts that made zero sense.

Ceilidh sniffled and wiped her eyes with her free hand.

"I have to pass it," she said after a few moments of silence. "I can't stay here. I need you, Ase, and you cannot be here with me. Can we please sit back down?"
 
"Ceilidh Trahan, promise me right now you will cease your smuggling operation immediately."

If she made this promise then she could not break it. The fae did not make promises or vows lightly.

Her blue eyes held his and she nodded slowly. "I promise, Asemir," she said. Luckily she did not have anyone coming in this week.

"I know you only want what is best for me but you are incredibly frustrating sometimes," she let a small smile cross her lips now.
 
"Mm," he glowered down at her, skeptical, unappreciative, but still as concerned as he always would be, "and yet you still let me in to your home and life."

Now that that was done, he felt as though he could sit back down. The heat of his anger had dissipated mostly, what was left to simmer was the irritation of all the uncontrollables beyond his reach. There just simply weren't enough hours in the day. He released her from his grasp and motioned for her to sit, following suit and taking up his spot beside her once more.

"So we should plan for your to attend the Proving within the next week or so. The outcome will determine the next steps - whether you will join me at my home, or move into the guest Grove." The guest grove was the closest he could bring her to him if she did not pass the proving. She would have help and support there, and it would be easier for him to attend her - but he would not be able to give her the same amount of time and attention there that he would at his own home.

"My mother is staying at the guest grove and I am certain she would love to have another High Lady there for company."
 
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The next week was a whirlwind for the High Lady of the Winter Court. She visited Mab to tell her about the move, ceased the smuggling operation for the time being, and packed the basics of what she would need for her (hopefully temporary) housing.

She had arrived in the Guest Grove a few days prior and she had been relaxing for the most part. The trip had taken more out of her than she thought possible. This child was determined to suck the life out of her and she did not appreciate it in the slightest.

She had visited Lirienn and gotten all the tea on the supposed son of Asemir. She had even seen him and he looked exactly like the King. Poor Ase was living in denial but according to Lirienn the test to prove his parentage would happen any day now.

This morning, Ceilidh laid on the couch in her rooms with her right hand over her bump and her left arm over her face. She had been throwing up since last night and she was sure she was going to die soon. Why would anyone want to go through this?!
 
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Asemir had helped with the moving portion of Ceilidh's week, but afterwards had been quite scarce. His duties to the ever devolving situation in Mirlorne had pulled his attention away quite strongly. When he was home, it was for quick meals and short visits with Cee or his mother before he was off again. He'd left Cee with the promise that once Mirlorne's people were settled into their new homes, he would schedule her Proving.

He hoped it wouldn't take much longer.

It was the day before the arrival of the Black Shuck Sluagh who would affirm once and for all the relation of Ameris to the Lord Kor Aren. Asemir was irritable, stressed, and exhausted from a lack of sleep due to the evacuation of Mirlorne. There was respite on the horizon with only a few families left to move, but then he would need to see Eske off to Spring as well and he was very much not looking forward to that particular endeavor. His last visit with Eske while she continued her efforts to save as much of the Mirlorne Heartgrove as possible had been devastating. The Heradryad's emotions were a weight he'd not had to deal with in a long time, and her unleashed empathy had dredged up old memories he very much never wanted to revisit again.

A gentle knock sounded on Ceilidh's door, but he did not wait for her to answer. Instead, Asemir let himself in, "Cee? I'm coming in..." and quietly closed the door behind him before stepping in through the parlor and looking either way to find his friend. He discovered her languishing on the couch and offered a low, commiserating humm, "she said you weren't feeling well. Don't get up - can I have the staff get you anything?"
 
Ceilidh heard the knock on the door and she moved her arm but nothing else. Whoever it was could just come in and kill her. She would be okay with that right now. A very small smile drew across lips as she heard Asemir come in and close the door.

She groaned and looked down at her belly before looking back to Ase with the fakest smile ever now plastered on her face.

"Would one of them be able to remove this thing from me and grow it the rest of the way?!" Cee asked. She was only half joking. "Why did no one tell me that being pregnant was miserable?"

She closed her eyes again and sighed softly, "I already love her so much though...even though she is making me miserable!"

She slowly sat up and scooted over to allow room for Ase to sit if he wanted to.

"Honestly, does the staff have anything to soothe my stomach? I have only been able to eat bread for a few days now."
 
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Concerned amusement colored his face as he stepped into the entryway of the lounge area. The groaning and moaning and complaining was all very Ceilidh, truth be told. The woman never had been able to keep her thoughts or opinions to herself and he supposed that's what made her such a generous friend. Warmth then crept into his expression as he looked her over, finding that despite her apparent misery she looked more radiant than ever.

Glowing. She was glowing in a way he'd never seen before.

"Cee...you have a bell you can ring for service at any hour of the day. Surely you've asked the housekeepers for something other than bread..." he sighed and moved forward to join her on the couch. There he sat beside her and wrapped an arm around her smaller form, gently squeezed her in an embrace and pressed a kiss onto her temple, "perhaps some soup? Some tea?"
 
Ceilidh gave him a no shit look but it quickly changed to something more akin to peaceful as he sat down next to her.

He was her safe space and it didn’t matter what she was going through because she knew he would be there to just hold her. There were times when Traynor was gone that she had cursed him out for holding her while she was upset but he never let go.

Now once again, she felt safe with him beside her.

“Yes, I tried soup yesterday and threw it up. Perhaps just a simple broth. Are there no fae with the specific power to soothe expecting mothers stomachs?!”

Ceilidh rested her head on his shoulder.

“They say it gets better. I think the last woman who checked on me said I should be doing better in a few weeks.”
 
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"Mm," he hummed into her hair about the failure of yesterday's soup, and chuckled at the outburst for a fae of a particular skillset. His free hand gently moved to the bump of her belly. Not quite so big as what he'd witnessed at the Heart & Hearth Ball, but certainly noticeable by now.

"I know nothing of these things," the admittance was not hard - though he'd taken bedmates over the years since coming to Dusk, they had been few and far between. Never of any seriousness, either. The heartache of walking away from Mab had left him scared and unfit for relations beyond bedding. Gaze shifting down to where his hand was settled, he smoothed it back and forth over the tempestuous chylde-to-be in an effort to soothe its discontentment, "but I will ask my mother to look in on you. She'll know what to do. According to her, I was hell in the belly."

He smiled into her hair and nuzzled into her scalp, welcoming the waft of her perfume and the easing warmth of her presence to soothe his own troubles. Whatever her needs in this time they were quite a bit more simple and straightforward than the misery of Mirlorne.

"So, broth and tea. Anything else?"
 
The way he nuzzled into her hair had always cracked her up but it brought him a peace that she didn’t understand so she never stopped him. She did always make sure to wear the perfume he liked though.

She was surprised how nice it was to have Ase’s large hands rubbing her small bump. Trying to soothe the child that had made her so miserable.

“I would appreciate that very much. Your mother is so kind to me and she is great for catching up on gossip,” Ceilidh chuckled softly.

“Can we get my Proving scheduled so I can get settled either here or with you?”
 
It was, of course, always nice to hear that his mother was being kind. Lirienn did not leave her reign of infamy for her kindness. She had been a ruthless, strategic, effective ruler and it did make him wonder how the fae of Summer had become so complacent with the shitshow of a Queen they had now. Perhaps his sister had softened them, spoiled them. Though she had not been without her own ferocity.

As for the gossip... Asemir said nothing on purpose.

"Soon," he assured her with a deep and heavy sigh, "but I cannot say just how soon. There are dire straights in Mirlorne that need my attention, but I promise you when that is all taken care of you will have-" Ase eased back from her hair and gave her a wane, half-hearted smirk, "most of my attention."

"Then, yes, we will get your Proving scheduled. I promise it will be well before the baby arrives. You will be settled, either here or at my home, in the greatest lap of luxury I can offer you before then."
 
Ceilidh nodded. Lirienn had told her a little about what was happening in Mirlorne and how she was helping some of the families get settled in the guest grove. She was curious what was actually going on but she was not a member of Dusk so she did not ask. It was none of business really. She was just nosey.

"Yes, of course, whatever is happening there is most important," she said and rested her hand on his.

She was actually feeling alright now that she was sitting up and talking or, perhaps, Asemir just had a way with unborn fae children. She was sure it was the former but the latter still made her smile. Big, tough warrior Asemir having an influence on the smallest forms of life.

"The guest grove is quite nice," Ceilidh said with a small smile. "I could think of worse places to live," she teased and bumped her shoulder into him lightly.

All of a sudden, her mood changed and she closed her eyes. She let out a slow, steady breath as she fought the need to throw up all of a sudden.
 
"Kor Aren is no Winter City," Asemir sighed as he let his gaze pan around her current accommodations. The Guest Grove was, for all intents and purposes, just as nice if not even a bit nicer than the true Grove palace. At least here they were above ground and could speak of sunlit windows and a warm bay breeze. "I'm sure it's not what you had in mind for this part of your life but-" he felt the lurch of her mood but couldn't pin the emotion given his narrow breadth of empathy.

Asemir blinked down at her, stilling his hand on her belly, "Something wrong?"
 
Asemir's hand stopped moving on her belly and she looked over at him with a slow shake of her head.

"No, it just was a different feeling than before. I am fine, it has passed now," she assured her best friend.

Ceilidh debated bringing up the things that plagued her mind when she was alone and in agony. Of course, Ase would want to know what was on her mind. He loved her and he was always there for her.

"I am so afraid that these pains are not normal. I am so afraid of losing this child, Ase. I," she paused as a tear slid down her cheek. "I can't lose anyone else...I don't think I could make it..."
 
He frowned. Those certainly seemed like legitimate concerns that he was not educated or useful for abating. What does one say in situations like these? Everything will be fine? He wasn't an Omnia, he had no way of knowing that nor would he want to if he did. The King's mouth parted then closed as he chewed on what to say and in the end he settled for pragmatism.

"Then I will ensure the Healer sees you tonight and that my mother stops in before the evening ages." With another short kiss to her temple he moved to stand again, "But first, you need to eat. I don't know anything about pregnancy, but I can assure you that living on bread for days on end is good for no one. Not soldiers on the front lines, and certainly not pregnant fae."
 
Ceilidh let out a huffing laugh and nodded at Ase. He was right. She could live off bread even though it had been the only thing that did not make her want to vomit.

"Fine," she replied like he had forced the decision on her. She was just teasing, of course. She would eat some soup or whatever else he sent her and if she threw it up, she would call him to come clean it.

"And...Asemir...thank you for everything," she said slowly while trying to stand up to talk to him at his level-ish.
 
Ceilidh felt her heart speed up as he kissed her and she wondered what the fuck that was about for a moment. She did not dwell on it. She loved him, he loved her. This was no different than any other time he was around her.

“So you would not carry this child for me?” She asked with an evil little smile as she pulled away from him.

“I will eat, go worry about your people, Ase,” she touched his cheek now and smiled softly.
 
"After it is born I will gladly carry the child for you," Asemir replied with a flicker of a marked smile, "in my arms, and not before."

The touch to his cheek did sober the King's expression and his smile dissipated like the morning dew under the rays of the rising sun. He gave her a nod, opting not to make the comment that it felt like all he did anymore was concern himself over his people. But that was the job he'd willingly accepted when nominated as Triumvir. So it was that he willingly would walk away from Ceilidh's warmth and company for the cold duties and responsibilities of leadership.

He would not come to call again for many days. And it would not be Asemir that would come to call directly, but a maiden Sidhe named Calamae.

"Lady Trahan," she bowed gently to her after Ceilidh had answered the door to her knock, "My Lord Kor Aren bid you meet him at the Sea Gallery if you are well enough. I will take you to him."
 
Ceilidh went through cycles of feeling great before going back down again. She had made it a whole three days without throwing up when the knock on her door came. Hopefully she could keep this up for the next few months. Day by day, small steps.

She smiled at the sidhe and nodded slowly. Yes, she was well enough and she hoped it would last. She did not say anything as she followed the sidhe to the Sea Gallery.
 
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