By the time fall came around again, Aminta was well and truly pregnant. She had lost another baby in February, though the miscarriage was not nearly as traumatic as the first, simply lumps of unusual tissue in her usual monthly bleed. Two uneventful months went by, and in April Aminta skipped her first period in months. When she started putting on weight and missed her period again in May, the pregnancy was confirmed.
Aminta obeyed Erik's every order. She rested for most of the day, no longer riding into Paris for supplies. She drank only water, not even tea was allowed to pass her lips. The food Erik made for her was rich in every vitamin and nutrient he could think to include, and dense enough to help her put on weight. She put on weight much more rapidly during this pregnancy than her first, she noticed, though to her relief she was keeping her lean face and limbs so far.
The summer months had been horrid, and Aminta was grateful she wasn't even further along by the time they hit. Erik put her on bedrest much of the time, and she obeyed more than willingly; just walking to the kitchen made her almost unbearably hot. Erik developed an ingenious little clockwork fan that created a weak but welcome movement of air near the bed which cooled her some. Growing a baby proved to be exhausting work in the heat, but Aminta never complained; she felt like if she did she was doomed to lose the baby, and she couldn't stand another stillbirth like Adrian.
With the end of came cooler air and a lighter spirit. She was nearly seven months pregnant, and looked every moment of it. Her skin was soft and pink, though it had stretched some around her belly before Erik had thought to give her olive oil to make her skin more supple to resist the stretching. Every day made the pair more and more confident that the child would be born happy and healthy. Erik had even started purchasing baby clothes and a proper crib.
Aminta sat on the floor, playing with the now massive but gentle natured cat she had given Erik for his birthday what seemed like decades ago while Erik composed at the piano, playing a few lines of a melody, altering it only just slightly before writing it down on parchment. Suddenly Aminta winced, a sound Erik caught even over his playing and he stopped immediately to look at her.
"What is it? Are you all right?" He demanded, turning on the bench to face her.
"… I think he's kicking." She grinned, holding a hand to her belly and beckoning him over. "I mean he's been turning and moving a little for a while, but this feels different. Weirder."
Erik moved to sit on his knees beside her, and Aminta grabbed his hand to press it against her belly. She waited a long moment before frowning a little. "I think he stopped."
As soon as she said it, there was a small flutter under Aminta's skin and the shape of the bulge altered ever so slightly before sliding into place. She grinned. "There! Did you feel it?"
Erik kissed his wife soundly. "I did. You said 'he', do you think it's another boy then?" He asked curiously. She had been correct about the first child, and he had heard that mothers were often intuitive about this sort of thing.
"I can't tell this time, actually. I've been alternating between calling him "he" and "she" in my mind, neither one seems more fitting. We need to come up with names…" She rubbed her belly absently and grinned when it fluttered again. "God that's so strange!"
"What sort of names were you thinking?" He asked, moving to sit behind her to hold her between her breasts and her belly.
"Well proper French names wouldn't hurt. Or we could go back to Shakespeare, but he does have some odd ones."
Erik began to rack his brain for names he had heard throughout France. "Let's see. For a boy there's Anton, but that's rather close to Antonio." He remarked before continuing. "Alexandre, Marc, Henri, Gustave, Michel…"
Aminta wrinkled her nose. "I don't really care for any of those, do you?"
"Not particularly, but it's a start. Maybe the girl names first?" Aminta nodded and Erik began to consider. "Colette, Eleanor, Annette, Naeva-"
"Oh that last one's interesting. What does it mean?"
"'Ingenue', actually." He smiled.
Aminta grinned in returned. "Naeva is perfect then. It's strange but not too odd sounding to be hindering. You know, I have an idea for a boy name. Why can't we call him Erik?"
The masked man shook his head. "I wouldn't wish my name on anyone."
Leaning back against her husband, she frowned. "Why not? I think you're wonderful. Maybe you haven't always been, but who has? We're going to be great parents, we can leave what happened in the past where it belongs. He won't have to know about anything you've done that you don't want him to know about." She pointed out.
"I know. I simply wouldn't want history to repeat itself." He remarked.
Aminta turned her head to kiss her husband. "It won't. I'm not going to be the world's greatest mom, but I can promise you I am going to be better to our child than your mother was to you, no matter what he looks like or how brilliant he is. I can also promise you he will never live with gypsies or be shown as a freak. If the world doesn't accept him, at the very least I will." She told him matter-of-factly, garnering a smile from Erik
"Okay. Erik it is, if it's a boy." Though he was now secretly hoping for a girl if only to spare the child his name.
A knock at the door nearly caused Aminta to jump out of her skin, and every muscle in Erik's body tensed. They both looked at each other nervously; Nadir was the only person who knew where they lived, or so they thought, and he always wrote before he visited. They hadn't received a letter from him in over a week…
Erik stood and moved to a drawer to gather the Punjab lasso into his pocket as a precaution. Aminta moved off the floor to sit in one of the chairs by the bookcase where she had a clear view of the door. Cautiously Erik opened it, and a small, thin hooded figure nearly hurled itself upon him. He held up his hands, too startled by the figure to even react.
"Oh Erik, it's true! You really are alive!" The figure exclaimed tearfully, and Aminta's heart sank. When the figure released her husband and removed its hood, a lovely young woman was standing before Erik, with blonde curls and youthful, if tired blue eyes. But there was something oddly familiar about her face… it was then Aminta realized that apart from her lighter eyes and hair and slighter frame, the young woman could well have passed for Aminta so similar was nearly every feature of their faces. Aminta folded her arms under her breasts and gave Erik a hard look.
"I… Aminta, this is Christine Daae. Christine, my wife Aminta."
Aminta gave the girl an insincere smile and a waggle of the fingers before moving to their bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
"Your wife! Well… she seems… pleasant?"