Tears of Bitter sweetness
I got the idea from another fanfic called The King's Bastard by darkunicorn52, and I thought, how would it go when Mare found out? So this is my take on the idea.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Red Queen.
Enjoy.
I knock on the door of the hospital room where I was told Sara would be. The hospital is quiet today, too much time has passed for there to be any injured, just the occasional sickness or checkup. Even if my wounds aren't mortal I chose to come and get healed by Sara, I haven't seen her in a while now. It will be nice to see her smile and hear her soft voice. Also, mom forced me to get checked, not just healed, she's sure I'm walking funny.
She turns around from the bed that she was straightening. She looks me up and down smiling a little. I don't look dead, just sore and a few cuts from training with Cal.
"Just passing by, hoping you could heal a few cuts." I say.
She points to the bed with her hand and I walk towards it, sitting on the edge closest to her. Her hands begin to touch my arms and immediately the pain recedes. I hold back a sigh as she works. But I know she senses the relief that I feel every time she heals a part of me. Her hands move to the lower side of my stomach and I flinch, I'm sure Cal kicked me there. Sara removes her hands and tries again gentler.
"I was wondering if you could check my back or legs, I don't know. Mom says I've been walking funny since yesterday." I tell her. She smiles at me and proceeds to make me lay on the bed. Her hands start moving around, checking my legs. I can feel her healing my sore legs, maybe I slept badly yesterday.
Sara is quiet as she progresses, her eyes focused on my skin and bones. As she heads closer to my stomach her brows furrow, like something is off. She lifts the shirt revealing my stomach. I can feel her moving things inside me as they heal. As a pain I hadn't realized was there disappears her eyes widen in what I can only assume is surprise. I look towards the ceiling as she continues, putting my hand behind my head. Maybe mom was right and I was walking funny. The relief I felt proved it.
Suddenly the room seems too quiet, like there's a tension in the air. I look towards Sara, her eyes looking right into my stomach with something like fear in her eyes. It unsettles me.
"Is-" I begin.
"Everything's fine." She interrupts me, eager to prevent my question. Sara moves towards the table next to the wall, busying herself with fixing some impeccable tray. "Your mom was right, but it was an easy fix, you probably hurt yourself yesterday." It sounds like she's just rambling about anything. She turns her head towards me as if she wants to say something, but doesn't.
"Is that all?" I ask. Pushing her to tell me what has her so bothered.
Sara hesitates, there's something else she wishes to tell me, but can't seem to find the words to say it. For all the ways that she can speak without words, it's like now she has no idea how to express what she wants. In the end she just lets out a whisper. "Your baby is alright."
I stop midway of getting up. My baby? I look towards her, sending my gaze to her hands, continuing to array the tray at the table. Confusion floods my mind. Does she mean Clara? I know I would do anything to protect her, but she's not my baby.
"I didn't know Clara was ill." Is all I return, my voice a little uncertain. I was sure Clara was as healthy as she could be in the circumstances.
"I don't mean Clara, Mare. I mean yours." Her voice is soft, almost sad. Her eyes tell me she wished it were different, that these aren't times for babies.
"Mine?" I ask incredulous, my voice claiming all the negation I've ever had. But a small, deep part is frightened, there was always a possibility. "That can't be."
She doesn't look at my eyes, but her body shows she was expecting my reaction. It must be a mistake. I look at the bed, remembering the day Clara was born, Farley asked for a pill for me. She made sure I had a choice in that. My voice sounds a little desperate, like it's a lie I have to set straight. "I've been taking care of that."
Sara breathes in, calm, her patience had never seemed so agitating. She breathes in deeply, avoiding my gaze. "Sometimes things happen, Mare." Her voice sounds different though, like there's more than what she's telling me.
This can't be happening. We're in the middle of a war, I can't be pregnant. I had that choice. I sit on the bed, the idea of being pregnant making me weak on the knees. I'm about to protest. This is the worst timing ever. I think of Shade and Farley, was she in this same situation? With this desperation? She never got to tell Shade. And the thought brings Cal's face to my mind. Just great. I thought we were doing everything in our hands to prevent this. And yet it still happened.
I think about how I'm going to tell Cal.
How will he react? How am I reacting? Do I want this baby? I didn't want to have a baby, not right now. But fate shoved it into my hands, it seems it loves to see me suffer. Will he be happy? Will he be mad? Will he want it?
"How am I going to tell Cal?" I mummer, I don't mean for her to hear. It came out without me realizing, but the way she tenses tells me she heard every word.
Her voice turns sour when she whispers the next words, almost as if she doesn't want me to hear. Like saying it damns us all.
"I wouldn't blame you if you didn't want to have it." She pauses, even lower adding. "No one would."
"What?" I sound incredulous. I almost can't believe she said that. She can't be serious. But her tone stops me from yelling at her in outrage. The way she said those words makes my bones go cold. "I wouldn't want to have a child right now, it's one of the worst times, but it's my child."
I remember the day my family met Clara, welcoming her with open arms. They would do the same with my child. They would support my decision. With so much death around us, bringing life reminds us of what we're fighting for; it brings light in the darkest days. Reminds us we are doing this for the future, for the ones to come. The timing could have been better, but I would never think of killing someone who hasn't even been given a chance, least of all my child.
She hesitates again, trying to say something but keeping her lips shut. She still hasn't looked me in the eyes. It sends dread through me, whatever she has to say couldn't be worse than this baby's timing. And yet, she refuses to do anything besides look at the floor. What could it possibly be that would make Sara not want to tell me? Make her say that she wouldn't blame me if I didn't have it?
My mind begins to panic. It has to do with the baby, it's the subject that keeps making Sara so uncomfortable. Is it in danger because of my lightning? Am I putting my own child at risk? Is it in danger because of the blood combination? Or is she gonna make me stop going head first in the frontlines? I guess with another life in my hands, I should try to stay safe, but safe doesn't win wars.
"Is there something wrong with my baby?" Saying it makes it real, and I almost don't get the word out. It doesn't quite sound like my voice, reminding me of when someone's afraid. I touch my belly gently with my hands. It's frightening, to think there is another life inside of me, growing, and I have to protect it, because I brought it here, we did. Is this what Farley felt? What my mother? What Cal's?
"Sara-" I begin again. Not knowing is worse than whatever fate has in store for me. But she cuts me off, finally looking me in the eyes. There are grave emotions in her, sadness, regret, helplessness, I had never seen her like that, with so much shown in her eyes.
There's another one I can't exactly place on her, its harsh, cold, reminding me so much of the silvers, what they've always been. In her though, it's out of place. It brings back the tone in which she suggested killing my child. It makes my fear grow. I push my hand on my belly with a little force, protectively. I don't try to hide my fear, the way she looks at me, tells me I won't be able to after her confession.
I hold my ground, nodding at her. I'm ready. Whatever it is, we will face it. I won't let anything happen to my child, if anything; it'll be my push towards finishing this war faster.
"Mare, you're almost three months pregnant." Her voice in solemn, and I finally know the last emotion that I couldn't quite place. Hatred.
I don't remember when I stood up during the conversation, but I regret it as soon as her words come out. It takes a moment for me to understand, for my brain to do the math. I've barely been here just under a month. My little escapes with Cal started in even less than that. Three months. I stumble back hitting a table, stuff falls from it, some breaks. I hold on to the edge for dear life. My knuckles turn white with the pressure. The tears fall next. From fear, from anger, from rage.
I look to the floor, my hand goes to my mouth, stifling my sobs. It can't be, there was only one place I was three months ago. A place I couldn't leave, a cage. The king's cage. More tears fall, the sob wrecks my whole body. But all I can think about is that it's impossible. No one ever touched me. Maven made sure of it. Not even him.
"It can't be." My voice is distorted, barely understandable. "No one ever touched me, Maven made sure of it. Not even he did." It's a mantra, a prayer. The truth to the lie. But Sara's eyes tell me she's not wrong. That I am pregnant and it wasn't conceived a few weeks ago, nowhere near that time. The real lie is what I say.
But how then? He didn't. He didn't! HE DIDN'T. I remember very well, there was never a chance. Maven would have killed anyone who tried, and there was no one who would try anyways. I remember every second there, as much as I would like to forget. But it means I know that it's not possible.
The memory hits me like a train, sending me to the floor.
There was one night, where I couldn't remember anything. I had awoken in my room, my head had felt like it was being pierced by knives. My manacles were on the floor, I could feel the electricity, if only a little. My body had been too weak and I had barely gotten up when I fell. My body hurt, and I started crawling towards the door.
The cameras had been off, or maybe I had been too weak to feel them. When I made it to the door I tried the lock, and surprisingly it was unlocked. I thought it had been a dream, even if it felt so real, there was no way that was happening, or it had to be another one of Maven's tricks. I didn't make it far, when I crossed through the door into the hallway I felt a horrible pain, I didn't even know if it had been my head or some part of my body, I heard footsteps somewhere nearby and I blacked out.
When I awoke later that day with my manacles on my wrists I had put that event as a dream. But Maven had acted weird the next couple of weeks, he didn't approach me at all, no one came to say anything, even though he had said clearly the week before there was another thing for me to do. I didn't put much thought into it, I was glad I didn't have to do anything. But I don't remember that night, I remember the party that happened that evening, I remember drowning my sorrow in alcohol, one of my guards taking me towards my room and someone meeting us in the hallway. He had been drunk, could barely stand on his own two feet, he had to grab the walls for support. My eyes had met the warm stare of clear blue ones. Ones that had always been cold.
My head shoots up, looking at Sara. I see the change as it happens. How she reads my eyes, the understanding, and the regret when she sees that there is a moment, that it is possible.
"It can't be." I grab my belly with more force. The rage filling my veins. What he did, it was unforgivable. I would kill him for it. He went too far with that. But the smallest, deepest part of me, the one that still wishes for the prince I fell for in the palace to be real, the one I was sure had been completely eradicated, calls back. Maybe I wanted that too. It makes me sick. I want to kill him, and burn him with his own fire, shock him to death. I want to disappear.
The sound of lighting hitting the ground outside makes me turn. Bringing me back from my thoughts. Sara is in the corner, looking at the window too, surprised by the bolt as much as me. This morning when I came in there wasn't a cloud in the sky, now I see a storm, rain falling, little but steady. It will soak anyone who stays outside long enough.
I feel my hand on my stomach, squeezing. I let go of it. Not wanting to harm the child inside. Sara's words from earlier come back. I wouldn't blame you if you didn't want to have it. She knew. She had realized that I was too far into the pregnancy for it to be conceived here, but not enough to be before I was captured, not by a long shot. The tears return. It's my child, mine. But it's also his.
Just moments ago I thought her crazy for even thinking about it, and now, I'm contemplating it. I wouldn't ever in a million years bear his child. But it's mine too. It's not it's fault, that its father is a maniac psychopath, a cruel murderous king. What am I going to do? This baby deserves a life, a chance, hadn't I just thought that? That I wouldn't kill someone who hadn't even had the chance? That I wouldn't be a monster like him.
The sobs return. I notice Sara is no longer in the room with me. I'm alone to my thoughts and devices. I don't know what to do.
As one final bolt of lightning hits the ground a thought crosses my mind. Making me want to bury myself six feet underground, not leave this room at all.
How am I going to tell Cal?
I made Mare refer to the child as IT because Mare wouldn't know the sex and giving a preference seems like telling it, and I'm not sure whether it would be different for her to refer the baby as him to define its a human. But I also don't want it to sound rude, so it does not imply that she calls the baby that out of spite and disgust.
Hope you enjoyed. Tell me what you think. :D
Do you think Mare would want to kill her child? Would she?
What do you think Cal would do? What would his reaction be?