Over the next two months, Lutfi worked very hard on the babe's nursery, painting and decorating. Hephaestion sat in the pine rocking chair that Lutfi had built, contently rocking slowly back-and-forth, watching Lutfi paint or build furniture. The room itself was a soft mint green with a pine cradle and wardrobe.
Then one morning during this ritual of theirs, Hephaestion gave a short cry of surprise. Lutfi was at his side in a moment.
"What is it, Phaistion? What hurts?"
"I-don't know..." both hands were protectively on his belly.
"May I feel?" at Hephaestion's stiff nod, Lutfi put his hands on his belly carefully. Soon, he felt something, "She's kicking. Phaistion, it's all right, she's just kicking," he grinned up at him, "Here, feel."
"Oh!" Hephaestion lay back in the rocking chair, weak with relief, his eyes becoming wet.
"Maybe you should rest. I can make up a pallet right here on the floor," Lutfi gently brushed a strand of hair from his love's eyes, tucking it behind his ear.
"No, I'm all right," Hephaestion gave him a watery smile, and Lutfi bent forward to kiss Hephaestion on the lips, "Although I am kind of hungry."
"What do you want to eat? I will make it right now."
"Something sweet please."
Lutfi chuckled, "My girl wants to eat, hm?" smiling, he nuzzled and kissed Hephaestion's six-months-pregnant belly.
"Yes, now go," Hephaestion hurried him.
"I made some fresh marsipan," Lutfi announced as he put a slice into his mouth, giving Hephaestion a plate with six slices on it, "Eat slowly, don't want you making yourself sick."
As he turned back to his work, he heard Hephaestion sobbing. Attentive, he turned back to the man to find him eating and in tears.
"Mehr, don't force it," kneeling in front of the rocker, he eased the plate away and set it down on the floor before standing and taking Hephaestion into his arms and sitting down in the rocking chair, "Meghr, what's wrong?"
"You said I was fat!"
"No, I didn't-"
"You told me not to eat! The one person I trust-!" Hephaestion's heavy sobs and lack of air cut the sentence short.
"I never said that, I said to eat slowly so you didn't get sick. Something else is bothering you, isn't it? Tell me."
Hephaestion shook his head vehemently, "I don't know!"
"Yes, you do. Now relax and tell me. I might be able to fix your problem."
Hephaestion turned to him, his blue eyes angry through their tears, "I don't have a problem!"
"You're right, that was a bad choice of words, I'm sorry. I might be able to help through whatever troubles you are having. Better?"
"Better," Hephaestion slumped against the younger man, finally manuvering his body so that he was laying across his lap, facing the wall as Lutfi gently carded slender fingers through his long hair, "Lutfi, do you think I'm a bad mother? For hating the child. Earlier, I mean."
"I don't believe you hated the child at all. I think you hated the circumstances in which she was given to you."
"But I tried to kill myself."
"And I kept you safe. But I don't think you tried to kill yourself because you hated the child, I think you did it because you felt weak. You felt like you should have fought harder, screamed louder, whatever would have prevented Darius from taking you the way he did," as he said this in a whispered tone, Lutfi openly stared at the wall, or through it, at something Hephaestion could not see.
"Lutfi... would you... would you hold me tonight?"
Lutfi smiled softly, still staring, "Of course, Meghr."