Blog

The Gift of Surprise

When I won this YCH from Marsel-Defender, I had initially intended to tell a lower stakes, more romantic little bit with Azurium and Clara. I wanted to show them in a moment that depicts the strength of their relationship.

But as I kept looking at this piece, finished and ready for me, I started to realize I had better ideas for what I could use it for, especially given the more solemn expression on young Azurium. There was a specific moment already established in the timeline where young Azurium would be both with Clara and not at his best, and that was the moment where he learned she was pregnant.

Thus, this story was came to life.

Content Warning: Discussion of pregnancy and abortion.

---

“Remember when you told me why you go by ‘Az’?”

The two of them laid together, held tightly in each others arms. The pantheress was the one who spoke, clad in a navy blue sports bra that was just barely visible against her coal pelt, and a pair of tailored trousers and accentuated her honed, huntress physique. Her emeralds, gleaming in the moonlight that coldly illuminated the room, focused purely on her partner, the orange, stripped tigerkin with shoulders broad and strong enough to support her arms nestled around his neck.

His hazel eyes returned her focus, unobstructed by an otherwise unkempt mop of hair around his head, his only clothing a similarly well-fitting pair of trousers to his companion. Though the room was designed to only house a single officer, they had done this so many times that no one at the outpost, on the mountain borders of Oplentis, even bothered to question them on it.

As to her question, it was enough to raise one of his eyebrows.

“That isn’t exactly pillow talk, Clara. But yeah; I told you that if people call me ‘Az’, then they won’t use my full last name. Little trick to distance myself from the family. What about it?” As he continued, she drew him closer in, with the same arms that pinned him against the floor mats so many times during their sparring matches. The way her eyes almost pierced through him would have rattled him once upon a time, but at this stage in their relationship, he knew her better. “Ah. I know The Look when I see it. What’s on your mind?”

She hesitated, a rarity for a warrior as decorated as she. “Well, if you had a child on the way, would you want him to take a your name?”

As a fellow Oplentian Army Officer, Bartholomew Azurium had never know her to waver in anything, and this was no different. And yet, she spoke with an clarity he was unused to when talking to her like this, in the privacy of his own quarters. She had rehearsed this, no differently then as if she had rehearsed a speech to her unit.

It was an observation he could do nothing with, but the question deserved an answer. “If I had a kid, I would hope they could find a better old man than me.”

Her arms had started to travel downward. Where they were once wrapped around his neck and shoulders, they had moved to his sides. The sultry atmosphere of the evening was gone, replaced with something more romantic and tender, as she embraced him in a hug. “You can’t possibly believe that, Bart. You one of the best men I know.”

His sigh felt heavy as his breath touched her neck, “I’m one of the best soldiers you ever knew, Clara. Maybe one of your best lovers, but not one of the best men. And not one of the best fathers.”

“You know you aren’t your father, right?”

As always, she had a way of cutting directly to the heart of the matter. He knew what she was getting at because precisely because it was what he wanted to say.

“Okay, that’s part of it, yeah. My old man did me dirty as a kid, and now that we’re out of his thumb I don’t want to be like him. Besides, we both said we didn’t want to bring kids into this life. Place like this ain’t right for a kid.”

She nuzzled him, and he responded in kind. For a moment, Bartholomew wondered if the reason they rarely fought in private is because they spent so much time fighting and sparring with each other in the ring, but the thought left his mind almost as quickly as it entered.

“I know what we said, but my body disagreed.”

He could feel his heart drop, and he could feel hers drop as his reaction took hold. Bartholomew had braved numerous missions under the banner of the Oplentian Military, impossible missions meant to break him and his squad, but his adrenaline response was clear as the moonlit sky, enough for him to jump out of bed and their embrace.

“You mean it?” She nodded. “When? Wait, is that why you’ve had to cancel our last few matches.”

Again, another nod. “I wasn’t feeling right, so I saw our medic.”

“Shit. Guess we weren’t as careful as we thought.” Though the jest was as far it could possible be from funny, it was enough to bring a wry grin to both of them and cut through the tension of the evening. “How are you feeling?”

“Not sure. I don’t know how I feel about keeping the-“

“You have to keep it.”

The bluntness of the remark took her off guard in combination with the content. “Are you sure? I know we said-“

He grasped her hand with his own, their rough paw pads connecting together. He made sure to keep eye contact, affording her the same respect and courtesy she showed him. “We have to keep it, Clara. It doesn’t matter if we want to or not.”

“What do you mean, Bart?”

“It’s an old law. You’re a commoner, so I’m not surprised you don’t know. If a commoner is pregnant with a nobleman’s son, and they try to abort the pregnancy, that’s treated like murder. They’ll hang you if you don’t keep it. And if the doc tries to help you, he’ll be an accessory. You can ask him yourself.”

From the way she began to flinch away, Bartholomew could tell that his words were hitting her harder than he feared they might. “You wouldn’t, Bart. Even if you wanted to keep them, I know you wouldn’t-“

“My old man would, Clara. I’d support you no matter what, but my old man is desperate enough for an heir that he would.”

“But you’ve been disinherited. You’ve finally cut all ties.”

“And my old man wouldn’t give a fuck about that. You don’t know him like I do.”

Clara opened her mouth to speak, but the words didn’t come. With each of their respective adrenaline spikes starting to wear down, both of the leaned on their training.

Steady breathes to lower the heart-rate.
Recognize that there’s no immediate danger, even if the situation is tense.
If you panic, your unit will. A captain must always remain calm.

And once she had given herself that moment, and found her voice again, Clara grounded them both in the moment. “Alright then, Bart. What’s the plan?”

His tactical mind had returned to him. “Well, there’s still time. Let’s sleep on it, and then we’ll talk more once we’re more level-headed. No sense in making a plan right now.”

She nodded, and began to lay down in the bed, motioning to him and he remained leaned against the tempered glass window. “You coming?”

Shaking his head, he spoke plainly. “I still need a moment to shake off the shock. I’ll join you when I’m ready.”

As if he has flipped a switch and finally given her permission, she dozed off almost immediately, leaving him to sit with own thoughts. Silence, except for the gentle hum of mana coursing through his ice box, permeated the room.

Guess I couldn’t be a worse father than you were to me.