I'll remove this soon. This is a sort of brainstorming session I had after the rough draft of The Xavier Mosaic was complete. Think of this as a placeholder.


Consequences

Asyrias Xavier and Nasaria Alexander were married 20th of 1st Month, 655 I.R.

Cedric's son forsook his former name with the coincident disappearance of his adoptive father—Giovanni Wolfslayer. He was known as Reja to those he cared for, Asyrias to the rest. His young wife was the last to call him by his childhood name. She was the only one he would allow to do so.

The life of a king was less than pleasant. Immediately upon his coronation, Asyrias was forced to resolve the many issues his late mother had left behind. Desperate peasants had begun to rob their Merchant's Square neighbors; crops still weren't growing, threatening starvation for the rest of Larasca. He had no time to enjoy his marriage. When he was home, he was tired and irritable, often choosing to sleep rather than conversing with his wife. Nasaria had to learn to deal with the castle affairs on her own.

However, when things began to settle, Reja began spending more time in the castle. Raoul taught he and Nasaria how to fence, and when the snow began to melt, Asyrias would explore the castle perimeter with her, if only to make sure she didn't get lost. Through the tumult, they didn't forget their affection for each other. Nasaria's patience withstood Asyrias' neglect. Soon, they had become a family.


28th of 4th Month, 655 I.R.

It was nightfall when the guilt finally overwhelmed her. She had no hope of sleeping. Instead, Nasaria paced back and forth in front of Reja's study, arms crossed tightly over her throbbing chest and breath held until she thought her lungs would burst.

I can't tell him.

She wished it hadn't come to this. They had spent only a few months together—a short time of ignorant bliss she wanted to forget. But what she wanted and what she could have were two very different things. Her every pain was a reminder of her duty towards him. She couldn't afford now to think of his reaction.

He would be there, soon. The King would visit his study before finally passing out in their bedroom, for reasons he never discussed. Would he tell her now, after she had so suddenly destroyed his peace? Defied his wishes?

Nasaria wasn't afraid of him. At least, she had not been. His strong stature held no terror for her, as he rarely touched her roughly. Even in their union, he had been gentle. To think of it now caused a stuttered breath to escape her.

He'll accept it…

Her situation wasn't her fault. Despite his wishes, he had taken her into his bed. All the world's promises couldn't change that. She didn't deserve to suffer alone because of it. Yet every moment she spent fretting, her emotional and physical pain was only worsened.

Tonight, this would end. It had to. If it did not, she would surely die.

The sound of his footsteps froze her, and a paralyzing fear crept up her spine. Before she even laid eyes on him, the resolve she had worked so hard to obtain simply dissolved. She would have run, had her legs not ceased to function.

"What are you doing here, Rina?"

She saw his face as he looked down upon her. His cheeks were already shadowed by stubble, and the dark circles about his eyes gave him a weary look, aging him beyond his years. This was the first she saw of him in weeks. Overcome by the sight, she almost forgot her purpose. Sorrow overcame her, as if his woes were her doing.

"You should be in bed," she said, her voice soft as she spoke. Unconsciously, she touched her hand to his rough cheek, almost smiling when she saw how his gaze softened.

"I have too much to do," he said. "You know that."

Nasaria shook her head, drawing her hand down his cheek and allowing it to rest on his warm neck.

"You'll work yourself to death," she whispered.

He smiled, for a moment, and she soon felt the brush of his lips against her forehead.

"Would you honestly care?"

She knew he didn't mean it seriously. Yet, there was something about his tone that made it scathing to her ears. She wanted to say that she would care—of course she would. Every moment without him was torturous. The days of his absence had dragged by. Alone, she had been forced to adjust to her misery. Memory of days she had spent ill, confined to her bed, caused new grief to overcome her smile. Even now, he knew nothing of that time. When he had returned, not a word was spoken about it. All at once, she was choked by her own thoughts, forced to remember why she had come.

At some point in her silence, she had started to cry. The tears rolled steadily at first, but soon sobs rendered her speech useless. Nasaria covered her mouth, hoping to suppress it, to no avail. She tried not to see Reja's alarm.

"Rina, what's wrong?"

She shook her head fiercely, trying to deny what was plainly visible.

"Just...forget it…"

Her task was impossible. She could no longer bear its pain. Breaking from her husband's grasp, she tried to flee his presence.

"I'm going to bed," she said.

It might have worked in the past. This time, he wouldn't hear of it. Nasaria had barely pulled from him when he grabbed her again, almost slamming her into the wall with its force. He didn't mean to. By now, she realized he knew little of his own strength. But the pain of it only made her tears flow faster.

"That's it!" he bellowed. "You've been avoiding me over a month, I'm not going to take this from you now! Tell me what is wrong with you!"

He held her pinned by her wrists, with no more strength than necessary to restrain her. However, to her, it was as if that small pressure could crush bone. She tried not to cry. When that failed, she desperately avoided his stare.

"There's…nothing wrong," she whispered.

"Pigshit!"

He grabbed her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. In his eyes, she found terrifying fury. It was then she realized she was afraid.

"I will keep you here all night, if I must," he rasped. "So you had better think twice about avoiding me again."

Her sobs had ceased, replaced by the dry sound of rapid breath. She trembled both in pain and terror. Yet, the words he sought passed her lips, driven and tinged by her coerced distress.

"I'm pregnant."

At once, the pressure vanished off her wrists. The color drained from Reja's face. He stared at her with a gaze indescribable, somewhere between fear and disbelief.

"How?"

A smile flickered on her lips.

"You know," she whispered.

"But that's not possible," he stammered. "That was one time, we had to—"

"Consummate our union," she managed. "I know. But it happened."

Silence fell over them both. Her hands fell to her sides when he released her wrists, though they still trembled from the upset. His face remained unreadable. Left without option, Nasaria held her breath, her heart pounding as she awaited his response.

Her husband pressed a hand to his forehead, hiding his gaze from her.

"Maybe you aren't," he said. "You may just be sick…it will pass."

Fresh tears began to fall, these from frustration. Before she realized her actions, she took hold of his hand. Gently, she pressed it against the loose folds of her dress, finally allowing him to feel the swell beneath.

"I'm not sick," she said.

His eyes grew wide, the words robbed from him as quickly as they had formed. Again, their world fell into silence. She felt choked by it. But though Reja hid his eyes, he didn't move his hand. If anything, Nasaria could feel a gentle pressure from it, as if he were confirming what he already felt.

"How did you hide this?" he asked.

Again she shook her head, trying to wipe her tears, though they formed as quickly as they were swept away.

"I've been avoiding you," she breathed. "I've been wearing looser clothing, eating less, everything I could do…just hoping you wouldn't see me…" A new sob caught in her throat, forcing her to gasp. "But, tomorrow's ball…you would have seen me in that dress…you would have known…right then…"

"Why?" he asked. "Why go to such lengths?"

By now, she was unable stop her weeping. All she could do was cover her face, knowing that doing so hid nothing but her reddened eyes.

"I promised you we wouldn't have children," she whispered. "Now look at me."

For a time, he didn't move. His eyes were shrouded by his dark locks, utterly concealing his expression from her. Yet, even after pulling her hand away, his palm remained pressed against her belly. She was afraid his silence meant anger. However, when he spoke, the sound was almost gentle.

"There are two heartbeats," he whispered.

Though her grief had yet to ease, she forced herself to nod. A smile formed, despite herself.

"I know," she said, quiet as he. "And neither one is mine." Through her tears, she forced herself to meet his gaze. Her only strength came from his touch, which remained even now.

"Silas…I'm having twins…"

The king's once indecipherable gaze became one of shock. He just watched her; she could see his lips fluttering in soundless words. A time passed before he had regained the power of speech.

"How do you know?" he asked.

Again, she averted her gaze. Because of her tears, she saw nothing.

"I just know," she whispered.

She couldn't bear to look at him. Since she had discovered her condition, she had felt unclean and repulsive. It was shame, more so than fear, that now averted her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said.

Suddenly, she was enveloped by warmth. Strong arms wrapped her in a gentle embrace, and she found herself pressed against the king's chest.

"Is carrying my children that terrible?" he asked.

She looked up at him in alarm, fresh tears already springing forth. His shock had disappeared entirely. Instead, he watched her through calm eyes. He did not smile, but neither did he scowl. Nasaria wiped the water from her cheeks. Slowly, she began to smile.

"No," she whispered, taking a stuttered breath. "As long…as you don't hate me for it…"

He was silent, allowing her to cry into his shirt. A long time had passed since he last held her in such a way. And though he said nothing, that embrace provided more comfort than she ever thought possible.

"Thank you," she breathed.

Reja released her then. He looked down at her with tenderness, but she understood his faint cringe. Even so, he took her hand.

"Come to bed," he said.

That simple action had a profound effect. Asyrias never held her hand. To feel it now was astonishing—all at once, she was overcome by joy. She threw her arms around him without thought, laughing in the delight she never thought would come.

"I love you," she said. "I love you so much…"

He hesitated, clearly surprised by her action. But, slowly, he embraced her.

"I love you too, Rina."

And that was all.

29th of Fourth Month, 655 I.R.

Midnight had already passed. Yet, Reja could not sleep. In the darkness of early morning, he lay awake, staring at the stone wall of his bedroom chamber. Beside him, his wife slept peacefully. He could hear her every breath, though each passed her lips softly. It seemed, even in her sleep, she retained her gentle manner. Knowing this only worsened his guilt, for even now, he could not look at her.

What am I going to do?

He couldn't be a father. Asyrias had been separated from his when he was still a child, and his worst enemy didn't deserve the sort of parenting Giovanni had demonstrated. Reja didn't know how to be a parent. But now, he had no choice.

What will I do?

Nasaria's groan startled him; he turned towards her, hoping she had not woken. To his relief, she did not stir. Still he watched her, observing the glint of her hair in the moonlight, the very texture of which much changed since he first met her. It was longer, falling down her back in long ringlets, and its color had since darkened. This was not all that had changed. Though her back was to him, he recalled her face, its features only more striking with the passing days. Her smile had become his only solace.

All at once, he was choked by remorse. He hadn't meant to handle her so harshly. But the strain of his day had been building, and with her sudden outburst, he snapped. She had become the target for his frustration, she who deserved it the least. He should have realized the consequences of such action. Now, he knew he staked more than her happiness.

I could have killed them.

Twins. He had felt the heartbeat of two infants, both dependent upon Nasaria's condition. Both of his blood. Then, he had seen the bruises on her wrist.

Why did I hurt her?

He had lost control. That was his reason, not his excuse. It couldn't happen again.

Again, he heard his wife's quiet sigh. At once, his guilty heart was warmed by it. For the first time that night, he wrapped his arms about her waist, knowing that she would not wake from it. Even so, He had to make certain.

"Rina," he whispered.

She groaned softly in her sleep, but did not wake. This reassured him. Closing his eyes, he willed himself to press his hand over the light swell of her womb. Again, he could feel the quick, faint beating of two hearts, one after the other. They had survived the ordeal. The joy brought by this fact was overwhelming. His eyes grew moist.

It can't happen again.

Reja held his wife close to him, warmed by every breath she took. Soon, his fear was forgotten. His lips brushed her hair as he whispered his secret oath.

"I'll be a better man. I'll earn your trust again."

Unconsciously, he pressed his hand tighter against her belly.

"I'll protect you," he whispered.

Nasaria stirred in her sleep. Though she still dreamt, she turned in his arms. Her head rested against his breast.

"Silas," she breathed.

His childhood name sounded perfect on her lips. He tightened his hold on her without knowing, as if that alone could shield her from the world. Tenderly, he smiled at his young wife.

"I promise," he said, resting his forehead in the crown of her chestnut curls, "I'll learn how to be their father."


Don't think of this as canon. It's much too sappy for that.

However, I am planning on writing something that is cannon pretty soon.

Woo.