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Chapter Text

Mirana woke unusually early, thanks to a chill breeze that seemed to have seeped out of the water beneath them and into her cabin, but she was unsurprised to see that Marci’s bed was already empty. Between her awful seasickness and how much she must be pining for Davion, Marci was getting very little sleep. Mirana had no doubt that she was feeling pretty dreadful, even if she would never admit it, and that more time retching on her own in the cold would not do her any good. She dressed quickly and set out to find her friend. If nothing else, Mirana could at least keep her company.

Mirana soon found her on the bow of the ship, holding her stomach and looking green and unsteady in the early morning light, though she seemed to be in better shape than the woman next to her, who was practically bent double over the railing, shoulders heaving as she retched.

“Good morning, Marci, Luna.” Mirana greeted them both, earning herself a smile and nod from Marci and a grudging reappearance of Luna’s head. “Morning.” She grunted, wiping her mouth on the back of her sleeve.

“I didn’t realise you got seasick as well.” Mirana gave her a sympathetic look, “You seemed to be doing alright.”

“I don’t.” Luna said sourly, still gripping the railing tightly with one hand.

Mirana raised an eyebrow, “You could have fooled me.”

Marci drew a line backwards on her cheek once and then twice.

“She did the same thing yesterday?” Mirana translated, “And the day the before! Luna,” She laughed, “Luna, it sounds like you’re seasick.” It was just typical of Luna to refuse to admit any kind of frailty, even one which was so obvious to everyone in her immediate vicinity.

“I am not-” Before Luna could finished her sentence she sudden paled and whirled around again to be violently sick over the railing.

Marci paled further at that and gripped her stomach tighter, obviously nauseated by the sight and smell of Luna’s sickness. But, instead of looking away, she frowned in Luna’s direction, concern and sympathy etched into her features.

Mirana gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze and gestured for her to turn away, “Luna, are you alright?”

“Fine.” Luna snapped, still hunched over the railing.

That wasn’t a particularly reassuring answer, but Mirana didn’t know what she’d been expect ing . If it had been Marci losing her stomach, she would have offered to hold her hair out of the way and rubbed her back until the bout had passed, but she doubted Luna would appreciate either, so instead she just watched uncomfortably until Luna straightened up again. “Maybe you should cut back on the whiskey.” She suggested, as gently as she could, “ S omething’ s obviously upsetting your stomach and if you’re sure it’s not the sea… ”

“It’s not the booze.” Luna risked turning her back on the ocean to lean against the railing, “It’s the shit they feed us for dinner on here.”

M arci raised an eyebrow incredulously and indicat ed towards her mouth.

“Marci wants to know why you eat so much is it makes you sick.” Mirana translated with a faint smile. Unlike Marci, who was too unwell to do more than nibble on some hard tack, Luna was eating like, well, Marci. So much so that it seemed like she was starting to fill out a little, which Mirana planned to tease her mercilessly about as soon as the opportunity arose. Only Luna could enjoy salt beef and dry biscuits that much.

“Because I’m hungry.” Luna snapped, unhooking the flask from her belt.

M arci gave her a disapproving look, clearly thinking, as Mirana did, that whiskey probably wasn’t the best thing for an upset stomach.

“Oh, calm down.” Luna said harshly “I’ll be feeling better by noon. There’s no need to make a fuss.”

Mirana was about to say that that sounded like a hangover, and how was her head feeling, when Luna went to raise the flask to her lips…. and stopped, her face contorting into a look of utter disgust, as though she had never smelt it before.

It was than that all three women had the exact same thought:

Sick every morning. Putting on weight. Starving hungry. A heightened sense of smell.

Oh, shit.

Chapter Text

Mirana found Luna on the bow again, staring out to sea. As predicted, she looked better than she had done that morning, at least on a physical level. No longer retching or clinging on the railing for dear life, just leaning casually against it, as she watched the waves with hollow, distant eyes and turned her whiskey flask over in her hands.

Marci was no one where be seen and must have either gone to another part of the or risked returning to their cabin so that Luna could have the space she needed.

Mirana approached her slowly and stopped a careful half meter from where Luna was standing. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Luna replied, without looking at her.

Mirana knew Luna well enough to know that she did not want hugs, or sympathy or, equally, enthusiasm about the oncoming child. She liked her own space and hated having other people’s emotions pushed onto her. So Mirana just stood silently at her side, warching the choppy water and doing her best to provide a supportive presence.

“I spoke to Aiushtha.” Luna said eventually, eyes still fixed on the waves beneath them.

“And?” Mirana prompted gently.

“She said there’s nothing she can do to confirm it this early on, but agrees that it sounds like I’m up the pole.” Luna’s phrasing was crude, using a euphemism that Mirana had not heard before, and her tone harsh. Mirana sensed that she was angry at herself for getting into this situation and, perhaps, for not noticing sooner.

“I see.” Was all she said by way of response. Calm, even, neutral, letting Luna lead the conversation.

Which, she did, “She also said that it’s too late for the stuff she gave Marci to work on me. And anyway I already took it so-” Luna’s voice rose slightly before she abruptly broke off, shaking her head, “Whatever. Doesn’t matter.”

Mirana just nodded silently. Luna might have been diligent about contraception, but there were no guarantees, in this or anything else.

“But,” Luna exhaled a little shakily, “There are… other things. She doesn’t have any of it with her, but she can get it once we’re back on solid ground.”

Mirana nodded again. If that was what Luna wanted, it was fine by her.

“So, provided we aren’t stuck at sea for a month,” Luna continued, “In which case we’d probably all starve anyway- everything should be fine.”

“That’s good.” Mirana finally risked expressing some level of emotion, although her tone was so neutral it barely qualified.

“Yeah.” Luna’s voice was even less positive than Mirana’s as she looked down the flask in her hands, tracing her fingers over the leather surface as she turned it one way and then the other.

If Luna intended to terminate her pregnancy there was no reason she shouldn’t drink as much as she wanted to. Which, judging by the shock she had just had and the way her fingers kept returning to the neck of the bottle, was a lot.

And yet, the cork remained in place.

Mirana glanced down at the flask and then to Luna’s face. “Luna...” She trailed of, taking a moment to figure out how to broach the topic, “You know, if you did decide to carry to term, that would be okay too. We’d all support you.”

As Empress, it would be trivially easy for her to ensure that Luna and her child had everything they could want, regardless of the presence of the child’s father or Luna’s ability to work. But money was not the most important thing.

“A baby Scourge.” Luna’s nose wrinkled as she scoffed, “No one wants that.”

“A baby Luna.” Mirana corrected instinctively.

“That’s no better.” Luna’s voice was bitter.

Mirana disagreed, but she let the topic drop. They could debate whether Luna was worthy of forgiveness another day, “Alright. I just wanted to make sure that you know it’s your call.”

“Yeah. Well. Thanks.” Luna’s voice was flat, showing absolutely no gratitude whatsoever.

Mirana inclined her head, “You’re welcome.”

There were a few more moments of silence before Luna suddenly pushed herself back from the railings and, in the same motion, allowed the flask to drop from her fingers, sending it plummeting into the water below. “Stuff smells like piss now, anyway.” She muttered as she turned away.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t like Luna would have been able to sleep anyway. True rest always seemed to taunt her, hovering just on the edge of her consciousness and then darting away whenever she tried to catch it. And, with the amount of pain she was in right now, sleep was no where close.

In some idiotic, naive attempt to get her more treatment, Aisthusa had blurted Luna’s condition to Gondar. So now Luna’s stomach was black with bruises, after than had decided that keeping the Scourge from breeding was worth risking not getting the full bounty for her.

Luna had hidden the worst of the pain during the day, as Mirana was upset enough as it was and Aisthusa would only fuss and worry and apologise another seventeen times, but, now that they were both dozing fitfully on the wagon floor, Luna was free to curl around herself, holding her stomach and groaning and writhing on the hard wood, cursing everyone she could think of and maybe even going far enough to shed a few tears.

But, if she did cry, it was only because of the pain. Not because of the blood she’d passed when they’d been let out to relieve themselves.

It was fine. Loosing the baby now just meant that she didn’t have to down whatever noxious concoction the cervitaur brewed up for. It was what she wanted, so there was no reason for her to be upset.

Definitely no reason to listen to the small, hopeful voice in the back of her mind reminding her that the blood could have come from somewhere else- her stomach her kidneys or even her liver- rather than her womb. She’d pissed blood before, once, after a particularly brutal bar fight, and she hadn’t been pregnant then. At least, hadn’t known that she’d been pregnant. Apparently, she wasn’t all that good at figuring it out. Perhaps, this was the second child she’d lost to violence and stupidity.

Not that that bothered her. Kid had probably been lucky not to have her as a mother, anyway.

Her wallow in self pity was interrupted by the sound of quiet footsteps moving through camp and Luna tensed instinctively, sending another flare of pain through her abused abdomen, and shifted onto her side to turn towards the noise. The mercs might have been told not to touch the prisoners, but sometimes a man got lonesome in the small hours and the type that were available to hire might be impulsive decide that what they wanted was worth the price of claiming it.

She quickly relaxed again when she identified the source of the sound Nico, the pangolier who she had spoken to earlier in the day. Although he had been extremely flirtatious with her and the companions, he hadn’t looked at them lecherously and there was something about his demeanour seemed… friendly. Safe. Different from most mercenaries.

Nico caught her eye in the crimson tinged moonlight and stepped closer to the wagon she was confined ti, “Good evening, fair lady.” He said with a cheerful smile, keeping his voice low to avoid form waking the others.

“Evening.” Luna managed a dry smile, “Do they not let you sleep?”

“Why would I sleep when there are beautiful women to converse with?” The man’s eyes twinkled but Luna noticed that there were shadows beneath them. The kind a person got after night after night of poor sleep. Kept awake by guilt, probably, just like her. “And what about you?” He asked, “What brings me the pleasure of your company at such a late hour?”

“I’m in quite a lot of pain.” Luna admitted, shifting again in a vain attempt to find a halfway comfortable position.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Nico said sympathetically, “Is there something I can do to help?”

“Whiskey.” The word leapt out of Luna’s mouth before she was even fully aware of it.

The need for drink was building beneath her skin, like some kind of noxious gas, which grew thicker and more powerful with each passing moment. She wished she hadn’t thrown her flask away. She wished she’d drank every drop she had and then some.

“Or wine.” Her mouth continued moving of its own accord, “Ale. Anything you have.”

“Given what I heard,” Nico’s eyes twinkled again as gave her a knowing look, “I think that would not be the wisest idea, no?”

Luna considered telling him that she thought she was losing the baby anyway, but quickly decided against it. It wasn’t like he actually had alcohol, or access to a doctor and unlike Gondar, he might actually treat her more gently if he thought she was expecting, “No, you’re right” She tried to keep the disappointment out of her face, “I should try to get used to sobriety.”

The thought sent a shiver down her spine, quickly followed by a wave of irritation. Could she really not put the bottle aside for a few months for the sake of her own child?

“I’m sure it will be worth it.” Nico said, as though reading her thoughts, “You must be so excited.”

Luna didn’t know if she had the energy to fake the level of enthusiasm required to answer but before she could try their conversation was interrupted by Mirana suddenly jerking in her sleep, “No!” She cried out, her voice thick was desperation, “Please, no!”

Dreaming of Marci, Luna surmised. Poor Mirana. Luna briefly considered trying to comfort her friend, but Mirana settled again before she had a chance to figure out something suitable to say. She could hardly ell Mirana that everything was okay.

“Are you sure there is nothing I can do to help?” Nico asked, watching them both with sad eyes, “Either of you.” He added in a pleading tone, obviously desperate for something he could do to relieve his guilt.

Luna sighed, "Some water would be nice." It was the easiest thing to ask for, plus her head was still pounding from the blow Gondar had given it once he finished assaulting her mid section and some water might take the edge off. Booze would help a lot more though.

She didn’t bother figuring out whether giving the pangolier something to do with himself was part of her attempts to win him over or just because she felt sorry for him.

As expected, the light quickly returned to the man’s eyes as he pushed himself to his feet, "Of course! And some food?" He suggested in an encouraging voice, "You have not eaten all day."

Luna's stomach spasmed at the thought of trying to digest anything, "No, thanks."

"Come on," Nico coaxed, "Think of the little one."

Luna did. Probably dead, but on the off chance that they weren’t, they must be starving hungry by now, especially given their persistent desire for Luna to eat everything in sight and then vomit it back up again.

“Alright.” She agreed wearily, “But I’m not promising to eat all of it.”

"Of course.” Nico assured her, reaching through the bars to pat her shoulder, “I will be back in a moment.”

“Take your time.” Luna muttered into the darkness, but he was already gone.

She sighed heavily as she eased herself into a sitting position, protecting her aching mdisection as best she could and settled against the side of the wagon to wait, watching Mirana shift and murmur in her sleep and thinking… nothing. Nothing about the baby, certainly.

She hadn’t felt any dampness on her leggings when she sat up but she didn’t know if that mattered or not. She didn’t know how big the baby was at this point, or how much blood it had.

Nico returned a couple of minutes later bearing a water skin and a small pouch of berries which he passed to her with a flourish, “A small treat for the new mother.”

“Thanks.” Luna’s abdominal muscles flexed painfully as she leant forward to accept them and took a small drink of water.

Nico settled next to her on the other side of the bars again, about half a foot from her face, "How long have you known?" He asked conversationally.

"Few days." Luna replied vaguely, taking a small handful of berries, and swallowing them along with a sip of water to keep from stressing her stomach too badly. She’d vomited more than enough in the past week.

"Such fresh news! " Nico said with a smile, "And when will the child come?"

"In..." Luna started to do the calculations but decided not to bother, "Sometime in autumn." She settled on.

"You are not sure?" Nico observed.

"I don't have the most... respectable lifestyle." Luna replied, a little sharply, touching her stomach with one hand, "There's no father either, if you were wondering about that too."

“No father?” Nico’s eyes lit up with righteous fury, “The cur!” He shook his head in indignation, “Leaving a woman in your condition. It is not right. You tell me who he is and I will find him for you, free of charge.”

“I’m not abandoned,” Luna explained, although the intensity of his passion had brought the ghost of a smile to her face, “Just a drunken harlot.”

“A woman of free passions.” Nico corrected. “Who enjoys two of life’s greatest pleasures.”

Luna shrugged off his euphemisms. Sugarcoating things didn’t make anything any better, she knew what she was, “Either way, there’s no one you can threaten into sticking by me. I’ve no idea who got me in this state.”

“I’m sure you can figure it out.” Nico insisted, “I am happy to help also.”

The thought of an exuberant, bright orange pangolin barrelling into the Nightsilver Woods and demanding to speak to anyone who had lain with the Captain brought another smile to Luna’s lips.

Until she remembered what the Nightsilver Woods had looked like as she’d last seen it. The bodies littering the ground, staining the silver-grey paving stones with their blood. People she’d know. People she’d killed. People her Goddess had killed.

Instinctively, she reached for the flask on her belt, but, of course, there was nothing there.

“More berries?” Nico saw the movement, and possibly the desperation in Luna’s eyes, but misinterpreted it.

Luna opened her mouth to refuse, but realised that she had finished off the berries while the two of them were talking and that, yes, actually she did want some more. Or nuts or meat or bread or anything else Nico could get his hands on. Gods, she’d happily tear her own arm off and eat it too. She was absolutely ravenously hungry And sick, she realised a moment later. The dull background nausea that had been haunting her since leaving Dragon Hold, was simmering in the pit of her stomach, waiting to flare up the moment she lowered her guard.

Almost as if there was some tiny being growing inside her, draining the nutrients out of her blood and prompting her stomach to become tender and defensive of the little one’s health.

“Berries?” Nico prompted, his eyes searching Luna’s frozen face, “Yes? No?”

“I … I’m going to have a baby.” Luna stammered stupidly, “I’m going to be a mother.”

“That is normally how pregnancy works, yes.” Nico said in a lightly teasing tone. “Would the baby like some more berries?”

Luna just stammered out some absolute nonsense syllable, still struggling to process the information that had suddenly hit her. There was no question of getting Aisthusa to give some kind of foul herbal concoction that would render her womb inhospitable to the life inside it. There had never been any question, if she was honest with herself.

Mirana shifted again, letting out another half whimpered cry and Luna span around and tumbled towards her, clumsy from her bound hands and bruised torso. “Mirana!” She grabbed her friend’s shoulder and shook it a wildly uncharacteristic display of enthusiasm, “Mirana, wake up. I’m going to be a mum!”

Chapter Text

Lina was waiting for them in some kind of ornate sitting room, furnished in the colours of the Imperium, probably a tactical choice of venue that respected Mirana’s position without the implication of welcoming her into her own throne room.

Luna did not have chance to properly assess the reagent, a tired looking woman in a red gown who quickly got to her feet as the four of them entered, because her eyes were immediately drawn to the elf woman who was standing at her side. Luna would have recognised that face anywhere, even with the burns now marring her left side or the lies starting to form around her eyes. Drysi.

Perfect, pushy Drysi. Luna felt her lips pulling back into a scowl, already on edge before anyone had even spoken.

Drysi’s eyes briefly caught Luna’s, was a faintly curious expression, before quickly looking away again as she turned to Mirana and bowed deeply, mirroring Lina next to her.

“Your highness.” Lina said, “Welcome back to Rasolir.”

“Thank you.” Mirana, inclined her head politely, “But, please,” She said with a benevolent smile, gesturing towards one of the deep red sofas, “Sit down. We have much to discuss.”

“Of course.” As Lina moved to sit down, her eyes flicked to Luna’s face and then to Drysi, who shifted her head in a quick, curt nod.

“You could’ve just asked.” Luna snapped, before she had a chance to consider things like “propriety” or the not starting an argument in a place where she was highly wanted.

She knew exactly what silent question Drysi had been answering. Clearly she had been brought here to identify Luna, probably so that Lina could have her clapped in irons.

“Excuse me?” Lina asked.

“You know.” Luna growled.

“Luna.” Mirana put a placatory hand on her arm, “Why don’t you sit down, so we all can talk.”

Luna didn’t want to be placated, she wanted to scream.

Her blood was boiling with white hot rage, her leggings were practically slicing her in half and she was sick and tired and hungry and desperate for alcohol and she did not want to see Drysi like this or here or anywhere at all.

“You could’ve have just said:” She continued in a furiously mocking tone, “‘Are you the Scourge of the Plains?’.”

Lina seemed slightly taken aback but replied evenly, “Are you the Scourge of the Plains?”

“As it happens.” Luna snapped, with aggressively false casualness, “Yes. I am.”

“Luna is a close personal friend.” Mirana interjected, before the situation could escalate further, tightening her grip on Luna’s arm and dragging her down onto the sofa next to her, “I’m happy to vouch for her.”

Seeming to agree that Luna needed minding, Marci sat down on her other side, while Aisthusa folded herself onto the floor next to them.

“I understand.” Lina nodded seriously, “But…” She seemed to be struggling to find the words, or perhaps to remain diplomatic, “The fact is, she’s caused unspeakable harm. It seems… imprudent to pardon her.”

“I’m not denying her crimes.” Mirana’s voice was calm but firm, “But punishing her now won’t change anything. Luna has done everything in her power to redeem herself, including-”

Luna would have spoken up to defend herself, or to prevent Mirana from defending her too much, but, as the Princess began to speak, her stomach constricted, twisting itself into a tight ball.

Luna’s face paled. Please gods, no. Not now. She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek, spilling blood into her mouth and willing her stomach to settle, just this once, please.

Drysi’ s forehead creas ed slightly with interest and she tilted her head as she asked . “ Laufen, are you well?”

She must have thought that Luna’s pallor came from fear or perhaps guilt. Luna would have loved to put that idea to rest and tell Drysi that she was fine, thank you, but her insides were twisting tighter with each passing moment, forcing bile up into her throat.

Marci darted across the room in a flash, snatching up an ornamental gold bowl from a side table and thrust into Luna’s hands, just the sickness finally overwhelmed her.

Every single pair of eyes in the room watched as Luna vomited into what was probably some kind of priceless historic artefact.

“Oh, Luna.” Mirana’s tone was halfway between sympathy and a rebuke as she rubbed Luna’s arm.

“I can’t help it.” Luna muttered sourly, shoving the bowl back to Marci to deal with.

“Should I fetch a physician?” Drysi asked.

“NO.” Luna snarled, just as Mirana said, “No, thank you.”

“Are you sure?” Drysi addressed Mirana rather than Luna, “Your friend isn’t looking too well.”

Mirana caught Luna’s eye and Luna gave her a sharp look that indicated just how little she wanted Drysi- or Lina, for that matter- to hear her happy news.

“Aisthusa has already seen to her.” Mirana said evasively, turning back to Drsyi with a polite smile, “But thank you for the offer.”

Aisthusa frowned, “I don’t really have the right supplies. The healers here might have to ease your stomach, Luna, not to mention-”

“Not right now.” Luna snapped in an undertone. There was a good chance that Aisthusa had been about to bring up the sickness that had overcome her when she stopped drinking and still seemed to be lingering in her blood, making her jittery and irratable.

But she didn’t really want Drysi to hear about that either.

“Of course.” Aisthusa said quickly, dropping back into an apologetic silence.

By this point all of them, apart from Mirana, who had a diplomat’s control over her face, where looking guilty and evasive and Drysi’s gazes flicked between the four of them, boring into them with probing, suspicious eyes that seemed to slice right through Luna’s skin.

Luna had to restrain herself from putting a protective hand over her stomach. Her body was beginning to curve outwards in a distinctive dome beneath her tunic and Drysi’s keen eyes were sure to pick up on the shape if drew any attention to it.

“Forgive me,” Drysi’s gaze finally settled on Aisthusa, correctly identifying her as the one most likely to misspeak “But Laufen is an old friend.” She gave the cervitaur a demure smile, “I would hate it if something were to happen to her.”

Luna was not about to be outmanoeuvred by a sickly smile, or appeals to their shared history, “I’m quite alright.” She plastered a cool smile onto her own face as she ran a hand over her bulging mid section, as though she had never had any intention of hiding it, “Some discomfort is to be expected in the early months.”

“You’re pregnant?” Drysi must have suspected the revaluation but still her eyes widened with surprise. Or horror.

“Good gods!” Lina exclaimed.

Mirana’s expression became hard, probably thinking what had happened with Gondar. “Yes.” she said firmly, “Luna is expecting a baby. Is there a problem with that?”

“Of course not.” Drysi’s expression shifted back into a rather forced looking smile, “Congratulations, Llaufen.”

“Thanks.” Luna growled.

Drysi’s eyes ran meaningfully around the entirely female group as she added conversationally, “Is the child’s father back in the Nightsilver Woods?”

“No.” Luna was not going to allow control of the situation to be wrest from her hands that easily, “He died fighting Terrorblade’s army. But thanks,” She gave Drysi a sarcastic smile, “For bringing him up.”

She was stopped short by the look of genuine sympathy flooded Drysi’s face, “Oh, Laufen, I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t know.” Mirana replied evenly, placing a hand on Luna’s arm in a show of support, but carefully avoiding looking at her directly. Her voice and expression were carefully controlled, as always, but Luna could sense that Mirana was absolutely not happy with what she had just said and would probably give her hell later, when being identified as a liar wouldn’t jeprodise Luna’s chances of avoiding a cell. Or a pike.

“Can we please just get back to important stuff?” Luna muttered. In a matter of moments her anger had evaporated again and suddenly she felt terrible about her petty point scoring.

“Of course.” Lina’s voice was business like but there was a look of sympathy in her eyes Luna sensed that her condition, and her lie, had earned her leeway that she did not deserve.

There was a reason that it was her, not Drysi, who had to sit and listen to people debate what was to be done with her, while the need for drink clawed at her skin and her bastard child soured her guts and it was that, unlike Drysi, Luna was a terrible person.

Chapter Text

Drysi pushed open the door her friends room, without bothering with a greeting. “Tathlna, does pregnancy make people shake?”

“Congratulations.” Tahtlan said dryly, setting down the pestle he’d been using, “Or should I be directing that sentiment to Lina?”

“Lleuafn.” Drysi replied, dropping into the seat opposite him.

“Lleuafn?” Tathlan repeated, his eyes widened in surprise, “Drysi, please tell me you aren’t keeping her under your floorboards.”

“Given where I’m currently living, keeping anything untoward under my floor would be a bad idea.” Drysi pointed out. “Anyway, there’s no need- she came with the Princess.”

“Princess Mirana?” Tathlan asked

“The one and only.” Drysi said in a faintly sarcastic tone, “Apparently the two of them are friends.”

“Huh.” Tathlan said with a faint scoff of surprise, “Looks like like she did alright for herself in the end. Or not.” Seeing Drysi’s expression, his expression became serious again, “You said you think she’s expecting?”

“She told me she was.” Drysi had briefly considered the possibility that it had been a rouse to gain sympathy from her and Lina, but Drysi didn't know how someone could make themselves vomit on cue and doubted Lleuafn would have humiliated herself on purpose.

“Well, good for her.” Tathlan continued to seem slightly unsure what to do with the information and settled on being polite.

“I guess.” Drysi sighed, “But Tathlan, she looked awful. The colour of slate. And she’s gotten old too. More than she should have.”

“You haven’t seen in her in almost twenty years.” Tathlan pointed out, “Of course she’s aged a bit.”

“That would be fine.” Drysi shot back, “If she didn’t look thirty years older. At least.”

Tathlan shrugged, “Maybe she spends too much time in the sun.”

Drysi just looked at him.

“Poor living ages people.” Tathlan said, more seriously, “And everyone is different. I think you’re reading too much into this.”

Drysi shook her head, “You didn’t see her. And she was shaking.” She added defensively, “Badly.” She held up a hand, trying to imitate Lleuafn’s tremors, “She could barely hold a glass without dropping or spilling it.”

“She’s probably tired.” Tathlan said with an expression that suggested he was humouring her, “How far along is she?”

“I don’t know.” Drysi admitted, “Not enough to show, but enough to make her very sick.”

Tathlan nodded understandingly, “Early pregnancy can be pretty rough. And she’s had to travel here… I’m not surprised she isn’t looking her best. Tell her to drink ginger,” He added, “It’ll ease the nausea.”

Drysi snorted, “I don’t think she’ll be taking advice from me. She was looking daggers at me the whole time. And can you blame her?”

Tathlan gave her a sympathetic look. “ It wasn’t your fault.”

“Anyway,” Drysi shook her head, as though she could shake away her guilt, “Anyway, you didn’t answer my question: does pregnancy cause tremors or not?”

“No, not in itself.” Tathlan admitted, “But she could be tired-”

“Lina isn’t shaking.” Drysi interjected.

“Or anaemic,” Tathlan continued, “Or hungry, or a whole host of other things! I can’t diagnose her without looking at her.” He met her eyes, “You know that, Drysi. This is all just groundless speculation.”

Drysi dropped her gaze to her lap, “I was just wondering what you thought.”

“I think,”Tathlan said firmly, “That Lleuafn is probably in need of a hot bath, some ginger tea, a bed and a half decent meal. And you,” He nodded pointedly in her direction, “Are obsessing because you still feel guilty about choices she made.”

Drysi sighed again . He wasn’t wrong. Every time she thought about L le u a fn ’s poor, grey face, her shaking hands she felt a stab of guilt spearing through her chest as she w ondered how hard the past two decades had been for her old friend. And, of course, whether things could have gone differently if Drysi had tried just a little hard to keep her off a bad path.

But, even so, Drysi was sure that there was something more to the situation than just paranoia. Something seemed... off about L le u a fn. Her trembling hands, the lines etched into her face. T here must be more to the situation that just a burgeoning pregnancy.

“I’m happy to examine her.” Tathlan said, more gently gently, “If you can get her to see me.”

“You know I can’t.” Drysi replied. Lleuafn had always been stubborn and there was no reason for her to change now.

“Probably not.” Tathlan admitted, “But if they’re friends, I’m sure Princess Mirana will take care of her. There are better doctors than me out there.”

“That I can’t agree with.” Drysi managed a faint smile before sighing and rubbing her face, “But you’re right. I’m sure Lleuafn – and her baby- will be fine.”

H opefully.

Chapter Text

Luna came to a foggy haze to find her head resting on a warm, springy surface. Which she realised a moment later was a pangolir.

“Good evening, Madmoiselle,” Nico greeted her with a twinkling smile, “Did I wake you?”

That was pretty unlikely. Luna was so hideously uncomfortable, even just lying still, that she doubted anything he did would even register. And his leg had made a quite a comfortable pillow, far better than the harsh stone floor. A fact she was certain many women had already discovered and was not about to have him the satisfaction of acknowledging.

“Thirsty.” She said instead, pushing herself gingerly into a sitting position. The word came out a ragged croak, scratching against her dry throat. It felt as though she had sweated out every single drop of water in her body, leaving her throat raw and tasting like sand.

“Of course.” Nico slid an arm around her back to help her upright before pressing bowl of water into her hands, “Drink slow.” He advised gently.

Luna did, but even so most of the liquid ended up on her already sodden clothes rather than in her mouth. She was still trembling uncontrollably, as though her body was trying to shake out any stray drops of alcohol that might still be lingering in her bones or between the fibres of her muscles.

“More?” Nico offered, already beginning to get to his feet again.

“S’alright.” Luna slurred as she slumped back against the wall, “I needed a bath anyway.”

“As you wish.” Nico said sympathetically as he settled next to her, “Let me know if you change your mind. I would only be gone a moment.”

Luna shook her head, “Probably wouldn’t be able to keep it down anyway,” She half curled around her stomach, which had began to murmur threateningly, “Gods, this can’t be good for the baby.” Thanks to the pain and her continued morning sickness, she hadn’t eaten in over a day, on top of the dehydration and such awful, unending shaking that she had begun to wonder if she should ask Aiushtha how securely the child was attached to her womb.

“Your child is strong.” Nico squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, “Just like you. And your body will shield them for the worst of it. It’s not like they had a taste for drink.”

Luna wasn’t sure of that. There’d been alcohol in her bloodstream, almost all of the time. Not a lot, mostly, just enough for her to get by. But still, the child must have been swilling in it, for its entire life. Was that enough to become dependant?

She shuddered as she pictured a tiny baby going through the same hell she was. Sweating and shivering and writhing with pain. Floating in her too-concentrated blood, half delirious with fever, desperate for a solid meal and something soft to lay down on.

“You are doing the right thing.” Nico reminded her gently, obviously sensing her thoughts, “Carrying on the way that you were would not be good for the child either.”

“I know.” Luna said quietly, most of her focus still turned inwards. She would have done things differently, if she’d known. Even if it meant enduring the pain earlier.

“Were you dreaming before?” Nico asked, obviously intending to distract her from her melancholy, “Instead of nightmare-ing. You seemed more peaceful than usual.”

Luna reluctantly cast her mind back over the lingering memories of what she had seen.“Yeah. I guess.” Drysi had been kind enough. More than her real counterpart undoubtedly would be. Tathlan too, and even Lina.

“Tell me about it.” Nico said encouragingly.

“It’s stupid.” Luna shook her head dismissively, “Damn fever had me imagining people care about me.”

“Mirana does care about you.” Nico said firmly, before reaching over to gently brush her hair loose from her sweat-drenched neck, “They had to drag her away from you.”

“Not her.” Luna exhaled wearily letting her head rest against the wall behind her. She’d only been awake for a few minutes but she was already exhausted again, “Someone else. It doesn’t matter.”

“I’m sure they do to.” Nico persisted. “Perhaps your mind was trying to tell you something.”

Luna scoffed, “I doubt that. But if we ever get out of this hell hole,” She suppressed a yawn, “I guess I’ll find out.”

Chapter Text

Mirana managed to keep from screaming this time, which was a relief only because it meant she didn’t wake to a crowd of men bursting into her room to leer at her breasts. Instead, she woke alone, with her heart hammering against her ribs, her breathing tight and shallow and images of blood and gore hovering just in front of her eyes.

Marci…

Oh Marci, I’m so sorry.

She blinked hard, hoping to excise the nightmare, but only succeeded only in shaking free some of the tears filling her eyes. As she raised the hem of the blanket to her face to wipe away the moisture, she notice that the air in her room was beginning to warm up and there was a thin stream of light seeping through the curtains. It would soon be dawn.

The thought sent another stab of pain through Mirana’s heart. The thought having having rise, wash her face, put on her clothes and go through the motions of staring her day was unendurable. How could she be expected to go thorough another day in a world where Marci was gone?

And what was the point of it all? There was nothing for her to do here except sit in her lavishly decorated prison and stare into space and wait for something to change. For Aridin to come to bother her. Or Nico, to comfort her. But even that was bittersweet because if he was with her it meant that he wasn’t with Luna, who needed him much more right now.

Mirana knew that she should stay strong, find something positive or hopeful to cling to, but she could barely remember why. There was no one was coming for her and no chance of her finding an opportunity on her own. The whole situation was hopeless and pointless and she was too tired to care any more. All she wanted was to go back to sleep and hope to go a few hours without being tormented by her own guilt and loss.

In a fog of misersy, Mirana rose from the bed and wrapped a robe around her body as she stepping out into the corridor, “I can’t sleep.” She addressed the guard with the voice of an entitled noble woman, not a half broken prisoner who had already summoned them in screaming hysteria three times that night, “Bring me the tincture Aridin suggested earlier.”

Neither of the guards seemed particularly happy to be used as an errand boy but after a moment’s hestitate, one of them reluctantly disappeared down the corridor, leaving his companion alone to prevent any escape attempt from Mirana and check for and gaps in the coverage from her robe.

The man returned a few minutes later and holding a leather wrapped bottle, “The apothecary said this will help.” He said as he handed it over to Mirana. “And he’ll send you more if you need it.”

“Thank you.” Mirana accepted the bottle and stepped back into her room.

She drew the bottle out of its cover as she sat down on the edge of the bed and turned it over in her fingers, watching the thick greenish-brown liquid shift one way and the other in the pre dawn light. It did not look particularly appealing, but then medicine rarely did. If she was lucky, it would do its job quickly, before she had a chance to taste it.

Without allowing herself to think on the matter further, she drew the cork out of the bottle and raised it to her lips. The smell of alcohol hit her like a blow as and she instinctively recoiled from it. Whatever was in the vial was strong, even stronger than Luna’s whiskey. The liqueur alone, without even considering whatever herbs had been mixed into, would be enough to knock Mirana unconscious for most of the day and leave her groggy and confused even after she came around.

And thank the Gods for that. Perhaps, if she got really, properly soused, Mirana would forget about Marci for a little while. Of course, it was exactly what Aridain wanted too, but right now Mirana didn’t care. She could forget him and his outrageous proposal for a little while too.

She lifted the bottle to her lips but stopped as the scent filled her nostrils again. It really did smell like whiskey, underneath the cloying medicinal tang, a smell that was, in her mind, indelibly linked to Luna. Luna drank to forget, which was why she never stopped drinking. Mirana doubted that she had woken without a hangover at any point in the last decade. She probably didn’t even remember what it was like, much like Mirana would soon forget what it was like to sleep without nightmares.

Luna would be furious if she knew that Mirana was following in her footsteps, especially after where they had taken her. If she was here now, she’d probably slap the tincture out of Mirana’s hands and tell Mirana that she was supposed to be the sensible one. Ask if she wanted to end up shivering and sweating on the floor whenever something came between her and the bottle.

Marci would be upset too, both furious at Mirana for considering doing something so stupid and devastated that she was unhappy enough to consider it. Especially if she knew that she was the cause of her friend’s distress.

It was that thought, the image of Marci’s beautiful face, one eyebrow quirked in a familiar look of knowing disapproval that did not quite try to hide the concern sketched in to her forehead and the sadness in her eyes, which gave Mirana the strength to rise to her feet again. Holding her breath against the smell, she pushed open the window and threw the liquid out into the night.

For a moment, she felt a thrill of defiance, pride at having remained strong and resisted temptation, but, a second letter, darkness overcame again, as she wondered what the point of achieving anything was if she didn’t have Marci to share it with.

***

Luna awoke to find a skin on the floor next to her. She dully raised her head, squinting towards the door of cell in search of an explanation. Her symptoms had begun to ease, not so much that she actually felt good or even okay, but enough for her to be confident that she wasn’t hallucinating.

Her suspicious were confirm when her vision cleared and she saw Gondar standing on the other side of the bars, staring down at her with an evil smile, “Good morning, scourge.” He said mockingly, “I brought you a present.”

“I don’t want it.” Luna shifted forwards to slam her foot against the bottle, sending it skittering back along the stone floor towards him.

The liquid sloshed as it moved, and Luna could tell, just from the sound, that it really was wine in thereand not water.

Gondar’s smile widened, his eyes glittering, “I think you do. I think you want it a lot.”

Luna scowled at him, “Fuck off.”

The motion must have jolted the cork of the bottle because the smell was starting to leak out into the chill air. Red wine. Rich and earthy and very strong. Luna’s mouth watered.

“Your baby’s dead, Scourge.” Gondar crossed his arms as he leant back against the wall, not even deigning to meet Lunas eyes, “You’re not helping anyone by denying yourself.”

“Bastard!” Luna’s eyes flashed as she flung herself up onto her and knees, snatching up the bottle to fling it towards him again, “Take your gods damned drink and go die in a hole.”

“I think,” Gondar spoke with exaggerated carefulness as he watched the leather skin strike the cell bars and bounce back onto the floor, “I won’t.”

In a sudden rush of motion too fast for Luna’s foggy brain to follow he had straightened up again and was striding into the cell towards her. Luna lunged at him but was hampered by the weight of her chains, pulling her down and holding her back. Gondar easily stepped around her attempted tackle and retaliated with a vicious kick to the head, sending Luna tumbling back to the ground, with sparks flashing in front of her eyes.

Before she had a chance to reorient herself, she was jolted upwards again as Gondar grabbed onto a chunk of her hair, “Next time,” He snarled as he wound her hair around his fist, wrenching her head backwards, “Try to cooperate. It’ll hurt less.”

Luna knew immediately what he was about to do. She sealed her lips tightly shut, grinding her teeth against each other with the force of her desperation. Not this. Not now. She didn’t want it anymore.

At the same time, she lashed out again, clawing at Gondar’s arm with her finger kneels and grinding her heels into his shin. She knew that Gondar had complete control of the situation and she was only delaying the inevitable but some desperate animal instinct told her to keep trying, keep fighting, to bring him down with her even if she could not protect herself.

But even that was called to a halt a second later when Gondar’s knee slammed into her chest, knocking the breath out of her lungs.

Luna’s mouth burst open in a desperate search for air, but her frenzied gasp was met immediately by roughly sewn leather and the sour, sickly taste of alcohol.

The liquid poured her mouth, threatening to drown her if she didn’t swallow it down. Even so, she tried to resist, to spit the bottle out, but Gondar held her firm, pulling her head even harder back and squeezing her nose shut to force her to drink or drown.

So Luna drank. A full bottle of hearty, strong drink. It was everything she had dreamed of and hoped for for days now and she hated every last drop.

Once the bottle was empty, Gondar cast her onto the ground like a discarded doll, landing a final, half hearted kick on the side of her head before turning away. “I’ll see you again in a couple of days.” He said over his shoulder, “When you start shaking again.”

Luna was too dazed to form a coherent response, or even to curse at him, so she just lay slumped on her side, listening to his footsteps slowly moving away and willing the room to stop spinning.

“Luna?” Aisthusa’s voice came from the other cell a few moments after Gondar’s steps disappeared up the stairs, “Are you alright?"

Luna didn’t respond. She could already feel the alcohol seeping into her bloodstream, setting her up for another round of renewed sickness, yes, but also poisoning her unborn child.

“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” Aisthusa said gently, “Babies are very hardy.”

Luna continued to ignore her. With a pained groan she heaved herself up onto her hands and knees again, jarring the bruises starting to form over her torso, and crawled towards the far corner of her cell, where a bucket sat waiting for her. She used the wall to leaver herself into a sitting position and leant forwards, focusing on the bucket’s foul contents as she shoved her fingers into her throat.

It took a couple of seconds of clawing and heaving and praying to any god who would listen, but eventually, the churching, heaving pain in her stomach was accompanied by a burning rush of bile and she was violently sick.

Once she’d started, she couldn’t seem to stop. She retched again and again, without even trying to, as the cramps spread from her stomach out through her entire body, every single muscle heaving in unison as she fought to rid herself of the poison that had been forced down her throat.

“Oh, Luna…” Luna could tell by the tone of Aisthusa’s voice that she knew what Luna had done.

“I had to.” Luna ground out between gritted teeth. She didn’t bother to wasting her breath trying to ask whether she’d expelled enough to protect herself or her baby. Aisthusa didn’t know enough about alcohol to answer anyway, even if she had some way of judging the amount involved.

“I know.” Aisthusa reassured her, her hooves drumming against the floor as though trying to dig her way to Luna’s side, “Try to rest now.”

Luna could do little else. She groaned and retched one final time before slivering back to the floor. She felt utterly spent, physically and emotionally. Every part of her ached, from her abused insides and the bruises littering her torso to the sprained muscles in her neck. The air was thick with the scent of wine and vomit, and the same taste coated her mouth, throat and even the inside of her nose, taunting her with the relief she had so violently thrown away. “Fuck.” She gasped, her voice raw and ragged, “I can still fucking taste it.”

“Can you get her some water?” Aisthusa asked hopefully, addressing one of the guards Gondar had left behind, “That should help.”

“Why?” The man scoffed, “So she can pule that up to? Learn so gratitude, mutt.” He spat in Luna’s direction.

“Charming.” Luna snapped sarcastically before saying, “Aisthusa, I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” Aisthusa asked worriedly.

“I’m sure.” Luna reassured her, even though her mouth was so dry it felt like her tongue was welding itself to the roof of her mouth, “I’ll hold on until Nico gets here.”

That prompted another derisive scoff from the guard but Aisthusa seemed happy with that response, “It shouldn’t be too much longer now.”

“I hope so.” Luna tried to hold onto that thought and the hope that he might bring Mirana with him, as another wave of pain coursed through her. “Gods.” She groaned, shifting onto her back, both hands still resting on her belly, “This baby had better be worth it.”