The only sounds within the lab came from the scratching pen that Marisa held, and the soft hums from the equipment. Specimen jars lined the wall of shelves filled with notebooks while cold air seeped through the cracks in the stone building. Marisa was slumped over her desk, furrows in her brow deep, as she wrote down her observations; every now and then she moved the lens on the microscope that sat beside her. Stiffness in her posture belied a tension which she would not acknowledge, least of all to herself.
It felt wrong to her, somehow. She sensed the shadow of doubt tugging at the fringes of her mind. She'd been feeling off for days now, attributing it to a lack of sleep or perhaps the unstoppable cold from the stone building. Her hand hovered over the notebook, her mind trying to press the thought down, smother it under the precision of her work. And yet, this feeling clung to her like some weight that would not be shaken. It was illogical, she told herself. It wasn't anything to which she could attach a number. Yet there it was, gnawing at her poise.
The golden monkey sat next to her, his eyes flicking between her and the workbench. He felt it, too. She felt his wariness, how his little body tensed every time she stopped. She knew he comprehended something she wasn't ready to acknowledge. "Not yet," she muttered to herself, as if those words could scatter the tension. But the monkey's eyes remained fixed, unspoken warning evident.
It was called a bond for a reason-a connection that ran deeper than words, deeper than reason. Her dæmon knew things she didn't want to acknowledge and at times like this felt like an accusation. She felt his instincts, tugging at her, urging her closer to face what was changing inside of her. She ruled it out of the question, thinking: "It couldn't be that, not after all those years with Edward without a single sign." But Marisa was good at hiding things, even from herself.
Stelmaria cranked another notch on the tension. Marisa knew the snow leopard dæmon had picked up the golden monkey's unease. The two of them looked at each other, briefly, loaded with meaning. Dæmons didn't speak unless there was something worth saying, and Marisa felt the weight of anticipation in the air, like a truth hunkering to get unearthed.
She forced herself back to the microscope, the lenses, the specimen beneath her. She couldn't afford to slip away into the shadows and doubts. Not now. Yet the harder she tried to still her breath, the harder the vise of uncertainty pressed. She looked up at the monkey, his eyes mirroring hers, apprehensive, watchful, knowing.
Marisa fidgeted in her seat, sat up straight, and sensed Asriel's eyes on her. Her tone turned clipped, dismissive. "Can you focus on your own work, Asriel? This requires all of my attention." The late nights, the relentless demands of their work were finally taking their toll, or at least that was what he kept telling himself.
Stelmaria was stretched out beside him, her eyes fixed on Marisa with that intensity he knew meant she was signaling something was wrong.
"When she speaks, there is more behind her words," Stelmaria whispered with tranquil certainty, her unblinking gaze against Marisa unrelenting, the tension in her voice tugging at Asriel's chest.
Asriel's brow rose as he lightened his tone. "And what does that mean?
Stelmaria turned eyes to him, unflinching. "The monkey knows." She hesitated a moment, seeming to very carefully choose her words. "There is something she does not yet realize, something that cannot be ignored. Or rather, someone who cannot be ignored."
Asriel's fingers tightened on his pen, going white at the knuckles as he worked his way through her words. His jaw clenched, a flicker of unease crossing his face. "She told me she couldn't…" She cut him off with a sharp movement, silencing his words, and his grip on the pen tightened further, as if the pressure could stop the rush of thoughts forming in his mind. His eyes darted back to Marisa, as if seeking confirmation from the way she moved, the way she held herself. He had to believe in her, didn't he? She did everything with care.
But Stelmaria continued to stare at him, her silence leaning against his discomfort as if it were a question needing to be answered. "The signs are there," she whispered. "Even if she doesn't see them yet."
Asriel felt his chest tighten. He had learned a long time ago to trust Stelmaria's instincts; they'd gotten him out of certain situations more times than he could count. But this; this was different. If she was carrying his child, why hadn't she told him? And if she didn't know, how could she have failed to notice? Always so exact about everything, from their work to their surroundings to the silent moments between them. It was that attention to detail, that sharpness is what had drawn him to her in the first place. He was troubled that she might be one to overlook such an important thing, going on right inside her body. It wasn't like this woman that he knew, the scholar who measured every variable and left nothing to chance.
One step closer, he stood and barely had his whispered tone above a murmur. "Are you sure?"
Stelmaria's tail flicked, her eyes never off Marisa. "As sure as I can be. The golden monkey is watchful, more watchful than ever. He knows."
Asriel's eyes locked onto Marisa's figure. She remained focused on her work, the pale glow of the lamp illuminating her features, unaware of the turmoil brewing inside him. He'd have to dance around it with care, watch for any more signs, but what that could mean made a shiver run down his spine.
"Then we shall wait," he whispered, though his heart churned with a surging sense of urgency. "But if you are correct, Stelmaria… everything changes."
He focused on his notes once more, trying to conceal the tempest in his eyes. Across the room, Marisa finally looked up, flashed him a fatigued smile, and went back to working. Asriel forced a smile in return, but his mind was racing. Provided Stelmaria was right, this would alter everything: his plans, their future, their research, and that thin balance they had been treading on for some time.
But Marisa was aware that Asriel was still looking at her, of the doubt etched behind the eyes. She knew Asriel at the core of her heart and soul. She recognized the dawning of suspicion; it scratched and spread its itch down her arms. She kept her facade of control, holding her focus fast to the microscope, to refuse even the slightest display of doubt. The unstated words lay heavily across the air and she sensed just how slight was that one step more.
The morning after, the room was stiflingly quiet, warmed only by the crackle of the fire. Asriel paced, his long shadow stretching along the walls, as the soft glow of the flames danced around him. His anxiety grew with every minute, reaching up to knot tight in his chest. The note Marisa had left replayed in his mind.
"We've gone to catch the sunrise. We will return by noon. -M
Asriel paced the length of the room, continuing to do so with each passing hour. His anxiety only grew with each one that passed. Long after sunrise, she had yet to return. His mind dealt with myriad possibilities; perhaps they had been delayed or maybe she'd stopped to collect samples. However, the doubts still nagged at him.
Stelmaria watched him silently from her place at the fire. "You know she's resilient," she said, trying to soften her tone. "She's faced worse."
Asriel's jaw clenched. "But if she's. If she is carrying…" He didn't finish the thought. The idea of Marisa out there, vulnerable, especially if she didn't know what was happening to her sent a helpless feeling through him.
The stiffness in Stelmaria's face softened. "We must trust she knows her limits."
He rubbed his forehead. It was all weighing heavily on his shoulders. "I cannot sit here anymore." He reached for his coat, calling out for Thorold.
"We search for her now!"
The wind howled, snow slashing through the near darkness as Asriel and Thorold struggled across the frozen landscape. Stelmaria moved silently beside them, her eyes scanning the endless sea of white; Thorold's dæmon, a little dog, walked close to him, nose to the ground, leading the way with purpose.
The minutes ticked by, and the storm grew fiercer, obscuring their view and making every step a battle. Asriel's mind was racing, the image of Marisa out in the snow, alone and possibly hurt, driving him forward. The note she'd left had felt like enough reassurance this morning, but now, as night was encroaching and the storm growing worse, it felt like a lifeline slipping through his fingers.
"We'll find her," Thorold called above the wind, but his voice was lined with doubt. The storm had turned the track-twisting path into a maze of snowdrifts, and every landmark they relied on was buried in a thick layer of white.
Stelmaria sniffed, head lifting as the wind carried a faint scent. "This way," she urged, her insistent tone brooking no argument. Asriel followed, his heart pounding, as they left the main path and plunged into the depths of the forest.
But the trees had given little relief from the wind, and the cold never ceased. They trudged on, the snow up to their knees, until finally Stelmaria stopped, her eyes fixed upon a small clearing ahead.
"There!" she said with urgency, lacing her voice.
Asriel's own eyes tracked down, and his heart sank. Marisa lay in the snow, a golden monkey sprawled motionless beside her. The glow of her lantern had failed, her figure indistinct under falling snow.
"Marisa!" Asriel's voice cracked as he ran forward, falling to his knees beside her. His fingers shook as he swept the snow off her face, the chill of her skin causing a shiver to run down his spine. Her skin was chilled, her lips tinged blue, and the golden monkey, usually so feral and watchful, curled tightly up against her side, his eyes shut.
"Marisa," Asriel whispered, panic clawing at his chest. He pressed his hand to her cheek, feeling the chill seep into his bones. "Marisa, wake up."
Stelmaria nudged the golden monkey gently, but he did not stir. "She's too cold," she said, her voice urgent. "We need to get her back to the lab now."
Thorold hurried to his side, helping to heft Marisa up as Asriel wrapped her against him. Stelmaria carefully lifted the golden monkey by the scruff of his neck and placed him on Marisa's chest. The wind bit at their bare skin as they began the long trudge back, but Asriel hardly noticed. His attention was for the woman in his arms, her breathing shallow and light against his chest.
"We're almost there," he whispered, more to himself than to her. "Just hold on."
Asriel set her down on a sort of cot beside the fire and wrapped her immediately in blankets while Thorold built the flames to life. Fierce urgency possessed the lab as this contrasted starkly with the chaos of the storm outside. The soft glow of the fire began pushing back the chill that had seeped into Marisa's skin.
"Thorold, get the water boiling," Asriel ordered, his voice tight with urgency. "And find any spare furs we have."
Thorold nodded, disappearing into the storage area as Asriel tended to Marisa. He rubbed her arms, trying to coax warmth back into her limbs. Her face was pale, and her breath came in shallow gasps. The golden monkey lay nestled against her chest, shivering.
"Stay with me, Marisa," Asriel whispered, eyes ablaze with an intent that far outweighed his fear. He looked across to Stelmaria, still vigilant, her eyes locked on the golden monkey, some wordless acknowledgment passing between them of how serious this had just become.
Thorold returned with a bowl of steaming water, which he placed beside Asriel. "We must warm her hands and feet first."
Asriel dampened a washcloth with the hot water, wrung it out, and pressed it gently to Marisa's hands. He worked tenderly with a practiced air, from her hands down to her feet, his voice murmured softly while he spoke.
Colour was slowly coming back into her cheeks, and she groaned faintly. Her eyelids flickered as she slowly regained consciousness. "Asriel…" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
He bent over her again, relief written across his features. "You are safe. Rest. We've got you."
Marisa's lids fluttered shut once again, and this time her breaths seemed more even, but she wasn't faring well enough to really relax. The golden monkey nuzzled closer against her side, his eyelids snapping open for the briefest instant to focus on Stelmaria, before he wrapped himself more tightly against her.
As the storm raged outside, the warmth from the fire finally began to permeate the lab, carrying with it a fragile, peaceful atmosphere into the room. Asriel knew they weren't quite out of danger yet since Marisa's condition was still delicate, but for now, they were together, and he could keep her safe.
He pulled the chair right next to the cot, his body taut and alert. But whereas his instincts were crying at him to sleep-knowing that they would have a long day when the storm broke-he could not help but look at her. The steadying of Marisa's breathing had evened out, though her skin was cool to the touch and pale against the dark fabric of the blanket. The golden monkey curled up at her side, his small form rising and falling with her breaths, even in such a weakened state seeming to stand guard over her.
Stelmaria settled herself near the fire, watching Asriel with eyes glowing bright with its reflections. "You won't be of any use to her if you exhaust yourself," she murmured, her voice firm but soft.
Asriel shook his head, his gaze never once straying away from Marisa. "I cannot leave her like this," he whispered. "Not when I could have prevented it. I would have gone with her."
Stelmaria's expression turned soft. "You couldn't have known she would venture out alone. She is strong; so much stronger than most." She paused, looking toward the gold monkey once more. "And if she does in fact carry your child, then her strength will only continue to grow."
Asriel's jaw clenched, unsure of anything. "She doesn't know," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "And I still don't know if I believe it myself."
He reached out and brushed a stray lock from Marisa's face. His gesture was hesitant, almost reverent. "I should have stopped her. kept her safe."
Stelmaria's tail flicked as she looked back to the fire, her gaze burning. "You cannot control everything, Asriel. But you can be here for her now."
Hours dragged, and as the fire's warmth engulfed the room, he remained silent sentry beside her. Every now and then, he adjusted the blankets, checked her pulse, or added a log to the fire. He refused to let exhaustion take his body even with the weight of night bearing down on him.
In the silence, he allowed himself to speculate about the future, on what Stelmaria and the monkey sensed. If indeed Marisa was carrying a child, whose child was it? His or Edward's? The uncertainty clawed at him, and if it was his, then everything would change. It wasn't just about the implications for their work or for the positions that each of them had in the Magisterium; it was the thought of building something beyond the cold, calculated world in which they both moved.
As the storm finally broke for the first light of dawn, Marisa stirred. Her eyes fluttered open; she blinked, disoriented but slowly returning to awareness. Asriel leaned forward, tension bleeding off his features as he found his relief in whispering out her name. "Marisa… you're safe. You're back."
Her eyes, still blurred by sleep, flickered as they adjusted to the dim glow of the room. There was a vulnerability there—an openness he rarely saw. But in an instant, it was gone, and once more the mask fell into place; the guarded look that daily filled her eyes. She tried to sit up but Asriel's hand on her shoulder kept her down.
"You need to rest," he said, firm but softly.
She crossed her arms over her chest, her posture growing rigid, the faint quiver in her tone immediately hidden behind a sharp glare. She attempted to get up, her movements shaky but determined. "I shouldn't have been caught out in that storm."
Asriel helped her sit up, his hands supporting her carefully. "Here, let me help you," he said before adding, "Well, you are a very determined woman," his tone light and affectionate.
Her eyes narrowed, a flicker of defiance sparking there. "I know," she retorted.
Stelmaria watched, her eyes darting between them, reading the tension in the air. "Marisa," she said, her voice low, "it's all right to accept help."
"You should rest a little while longer," Asriel added softly.
For a moment, Marisa's shoulders sagged, the weight of her own pride and fear falling through. She laid down again, finally allowing herself to rest. "Fine. Just for a little while." She let out a breath, shakily, before she closed her eyes, laying her head against the pillow.
Asriel continued to watch her, his mind racing with thoughts of what came next. He knew this moment was fragile, an unspoken truce between them, but below it, he could feel the undercurrent of everything that remained unsaid.
Marisa's hand drifted down to her stomach, and Asriel's eyes followed, his breath catching. He'd seen her do this before, but now there was something almost deliberate about it, an element of consciousness that hadn't been there before. When she opened them once more, there was something different in their depths—an uncertainty he hadn't witnessed since the early days of their collaborative work.
"I know what he told Stelmaria; Asriel… if they are right…"
She whispered the words, barely audible. She sounded like she feared the truth in her own mind by speaking it out loud. She stopped talking, looking down at the golden monkey, who gazed back at her with an intelligent expression. He reached over and took her hand in his, his palm encasing hers. "We'll face it together," he said, heavy with meaning.
Asriel paused, his eyes searching her face. "Marisa, what happened out there?" he asked, his voice laced with concern, desperate to understand.
She said nothing, long silent moments passed, yet her eyes locked on his and he caught a glimpse of vulnerability as seldom revealed to anyone as he was getting now. She was always calculating the risks and the costs but, softening within was as if cracks in her walls were finally opening wide.
"I don't know, I went to our spot, saw the sun rise and that's all I remember," she said finally, her voice reserved again. She drew her hand out of his and turned back toward the fire, casting flickering shadows on her face.
Asriel felt the distance reappear, but he sensed the crack, small, almost invisible, but it was there. She did not block him completely, and for now, that was enough.
Marisa woke the next morning looking pale, but determination was written all over her face. Trying to shake off the tiredness that weighed her limbs down, she insisted on going back to work in the laboratory. As she moved, the cold light from the window reflected a shadow across her features, emphasizing the exhaustion in her eyes. Asriel watched her intently, with tension welling up in his chest. He had sat up all night, staring at her while she slept, but he couldn't not say anything any longer.
"Marisa, you have to slow down, eat something maybe." he said, stepping in front of her workbench, a tinge of worry lacing his voice.
Marisa's eyes flicked up; she met his gaze, irritation flashing. "I'm perfectly capable of handling this, Asriel," she said icily. "Stop hovering."
He gritted his jaw tight, fighting to contain the frustration. Marisa's eyes turned cold, a barrier instantly rising. "Don't assume you know my body better than I do," she snapped, pulling away from his grasp, her posture stiff as if daring him to press further.
Asriel hesitated, his voice cracking slightly, "Marisa, if you are—" She cut him off with a sharp movement, turning to brush past him, forgetting her cares, but as she did, her hand clutched at the edge of the desk. Her face went white, and she staggered, a wave of dizziness washing over her. Asriel's hands shot out, steadying her before she could fall. For a moment, Marisa stared at him, her face blank. Then she let out a scornful laugh, shaking her head. "That's impossible. I told you… I can't."
"Marisa," he said, frustrated and afraid, his voice shaking. "You can't keep pushing yourself like this."
She jerked away, leaned her weight back against the desk, her face hardening. "I'm fine. I don't need you to—" She stopped when dizzyness took over her mind and body. loosing grip on the desk Asreil noticed and caught her before she fell. "Yes, food would be a good idea for your Marisa"
Later, after Marisa had begrudgingly agreed to something to eat and rest some more, Asriel stepped out of the lab. Outside, near the entrance, Thorold was busying himself with some supplies, his little dog dæmon seated attentively by his feet. Asriel let out a heavy sigh, running his hand through his hair as he turned to his friend. "I think she's pregnant, Thorold, but she won't believe it, or doesn't want to."
He nodded, his face thoughtful. "Sometimes people are blind to their own bodies," he said softly. "Especially when the truth is something they've believed impossible for so long." His dæmon cocked its head, watching Asriel as Thorold continued. "You want her to see it? You can't come at it from a standpoint of being right and she's wrong. She doesn't need another protector, Asriel. She needs someone who's going to stand beside her and let her be herself."
Asriel listened to Thorold. His words were heavy, weighing upon him. He walked back inside to Marisa, his voice softer. "Marisa. I am not trying to control you. I just… if something is happening, I want to face it with you. We will handle this together."
Marisa looked up at him, the hardness of her eyes faltering into uncertainty. "I don't know what's going on," she whispered low. "But something does feel different." Her fingers curled against the fabric of her sweater, and for a single, tenuous moment, the vulnerability she most often kept controlled was visible.
He leaned forward, the hand on hers soft and somehow unfamiliar. "Then let's find out together," he said, his voice sure and steady.
Trust flickered back into her eyes. The air, fragile now, was full of the same tension; for the moment, a tentative understanding and a willingness to face what might next come down shoulder to shoulder gave them enough comfort.
The tips of her fingers hovered close to the microscope, eyes set deep in concentration over a pale face. This lab room was so still, unless you counted every so often a soft clack against the equipment from something.
Asriel looked at her from across the table, studying her face as if expecting a spark to react; he could feel the strain in her shoulders and the lips pressed into a thin line as she adjusted the focus. Her movements were calculated and very controlled.
"There's no room for error," she said to herself.
She grasped for a vial, her fingers steady despite the tremor in her chest. She slowly added her blood to the slide, then carefully covered it with a cover slip. Her eyes fixed on the tiny world beneath the glass, adjusting the focus with a practiced hand, ensuring no air bubbles or contaminants interfered with her observation. She took a slow breath, forcing herself to calm down, to be the Scholar she had trained to be. But as the colors shifted, forming patterns she knew all too well, the mask she wore began to crack.
Marisa clenched her jaw, pushing away the vulnerability trying to surface. Her hand gripped the edge of the table tighter, as if physical control could stem the emotional storm brewing within. The thought of losing control, of being vulnerable, terrified her more than anything. She had always feared the idea of motherhood, the loss of her autonomy, the shift in power and focus. And now, all of that was at risk. She took a shaky breath, letting the silence settle around her before the words barely escaped her lips. "No, no, no." Her fingers gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white as she fought to keep her composure. The weight of the realization nearly knocked her out, and for a fleeting moment, she let the shock wash over her, her gaze drifting unfocused across the room. It was a result that couldn't be denied, yet everything in her was in revolt against this—a wave of disbelief crashing over her.
Asriel's hand fell onto her shoulder, his touch tentative. "Marisa, what is it?" he asked, though he knew already.
She did not turn to him; her eyes remained set on the slide. "It's. It's positive," she admitted in a tight voice. "There is no doubt." For an instant, she felt those carefully constructed walls of hers slowly crumbling. All that control, that precision, was suddenly meaningless.
Asriel's grip on her shoulder tightened as he scanned her face. "Marisa." he started to say, but she jerked away from him, turning her back to him as she folded her arms tightly across her chest.
There was a beat of silence. Marisa looked away, overwhelmed by the reality of it all, while Asriel took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. The tension between them settled like a heavy fog, neither speaking for a moment as they absorbed the truth of what had just been said.
"I didn't know." The fight was in her voice as she struggled to hold onto the clinical detachment that had always been something she was proud of, and yet it was slipping. It shook, the frustration and fear she worked so hard to bury now bubbling to the surface. "This can't be happening. It wasn't supposed to be possible."
"Hey, hey." Asriel said softly, stepping around to face her. "We'll figure this out."
She glared at him, eyes flashing with anger. "Don't patronize me, Asriel. I don't need your reassurances." There was a sharpness to her tone, a touch of bitterness, something raw and vulnerable. "I need… I need time."
He stepped back, hands rising in surrender. "All right. Take all the time you need."
The room felt charged, the air between them electric with tension. She turned her back to him once more, out the window staring. Her arms were crossed over her to hold in the whirlwind of emotions she could not let loose. For years she had been a picture of control-the Scholar who could disengage from the chaos in her life and focus solely on the task at hand. Reality was not going to permit that now. This was not an experiment she could abandon, not a variable to be manipulated.
Asriel stayed another minute, watching her. He knew her well enough to realize that pushing her at this moment would only make her close down further. "I'll be in the other room if you need anything," he said matter-of-factly.
Marisa was silent.
Once she was alone, Marisa's hands clenched into fists at her sides. She could feel the rage simmering beneath her skin, hot and violent, and for a moment she wanted to throw something-to shatter the microscope that had confirmed what she was so desperately trying to deny.
"It wasn't supposed to be possible, what have I done?" she whispered, the words full of a bitter and frightened tremble. She hadn't just convinced herself; she thought it was impossible due to being married to Edward for nearly three years and never once becoming pregnant or even suspecting it. Now it felt like a betrayal by her own body, by the carefully constructed truths to which she had clung to.
The golden monkey stood at her side, his eyes locking onto hers. Between them hung the question, silent but heavy, furrowed brow mirrored in his eyes. For an instant, she softened and let the binding ties between them soothe her. He understood her fear of becoming a mother, something that terrified her in a way nothing else had. She hardened once more, pressing down fear and filling herself with cold determination.
"There's got to be some mistake," she said, even though she knew all too well there wasn't. She turned back to the workbench, methodical in cleaning and preparing the slide to run the test again. She would make sure-even if it meant going through this a hundred times.
And yet, working, she felt the old instincts take over-the Scholar within reclaiming control. It was easier this way, to focus on the task, to let her mind fall into familiar rhythms of procedure and observation. But no matter how she tried, the truth hovered at the edges of her thoughts, relentless and unforgiving.
Her hands were shaking by the time she finished the second test. She made herself look at the microscope again, to see it for herself. And there it was, clear and unchangeable.
A sudden gasp escaped her, and for an instant, she closed her eyes, as if she could wish away that truth. But when she opened them again, the truth was still there, cold and inescapable.
The golden monkey leaned in closer, his small paw on her arm, a rare touch meant for comfort she wasn't sure she was entitled to. She swallowed hard, fighting the welling tears that threatened to blur her vision. "I can't afford to be weak now," she whispered, more to herself than to him.
She took a deep breath in, stiffening herself with it. She wiped across her eyes before tears could fall; she couldn't let tears fall now. She would need her wits intact, needed to figure out what to do next because whatever this was, and whatever it meant, nothing was going to break her.
Not this. This wouldn't break her, either.
Marisa looked at the result again, her breath catching as she let reality sink in. Her mind was racing desperately, putting together the timeline; going back over every step, every choice. She had been with Edward just before she left London at the beginning of November. It had been perfunctory, a duty rather than a desire.
She had been in the North with Asriel a week later. She could still feel the warmth of that night, the way he looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered in the vast, frozen landscape. She clenched her fists as she recalled the intensity of their connection. It was during that or the third week of November, she realized, when everything changed; when the baby had been conceived.
Marisa's jaw hurt at the memory, her return to London in the second week of December seeing her through the holidays acting out her wifely duties, but even there she felt the distance between them, the way her head remained in the North and with Asriel.
It wasn't until the second week of January that she returned to Asriel, dove back into their work on Dust. Even before leaving London, she had sensed something was different, but she had buried those thoughts, refusing to acknowledge them, just as she had always avoided any notion of motherhood. The fears she held were hidden, even from herself. She had never conceived in almost three years of marriage to Edward. Now, with clarity brought about by cold, clear analysis, she knew - this child could only be Asriel's.
Her hand was pressing against her abdomen, and it felt like the realization cut deeper than any blade could. It wasn't just the truth of the pregnancy but everything that came with it; her loyalty, her choices, her research, the tangled web of duty and desire she'd spun for herself.
The golden monkey's eyes lock onto hers, reflecting turmoil she refuses to show on her face. She had not wanted this kind of weakness, this kind of vulnerability. But there it is, undeniable and growing inside her. He clung to her side, shivering slightly, reflecting the turmoil inside Marisa. She felt his tiny paws tighten, mirroring her hesitance. She could sense it too, through the bond they shared.
"No," she whispered again, though now it was more than mere denial; it was outright fear.
But as the monkey's paw firmed on her arm, a sense of determination steadied her. She would face this; whatever it meant, she had to, and she would do it on her own terms.
For now, that was all she could afford.
When Asreil returned, Marisa was standing by the window, staring out at the snow, hands curled into her body as if bracing against the storm beyond the glass.
"Marisa?" He spoke in a soft voice, a tentative bridge between them.
She didn't turn at first, the tension in her shoulders clear even from across the room. "Asriel, I." Her voice faltered, and she drew in a shaky breath. "I need to tell you something."
He approached her slowly, his eyes fixed on her. "What is it?" he asked, though the look in her eyes already told him the answer.
Marisa took a deep breath as the weight of the truth settled upon her. "It's you," she said, her eyes unflinching. "The baby… it's yours."
There was a beat of silence as her words sank in. Asriel's face shifted from confusion to realization. "You're sure?
She nodded, her face setting. "Before I came here, I was with Edward. We..." she said, her tone dripping with distaste. "We shared a bed, as was expected. It was my duty." There had been no warmth, no desire, only obligation. And with each passing day, she had felt the weight of those obligations, hollow and cold.
Asriel's eyes darkened. He clenched his fists at his sides. "And then you came to me, in the middle of November.".
"Yes," she continued, quieter again now. She looked down to where, almost, it could be perceived that she was viewing the timeline she pieced together. "A month later, I went back to London for holidays again with Edward, playing the part. I must have been maybe just four weeks."
She looked up at him, the surety there. "After nearly three years of marriage, Asriel, and nothing. I've kept records of my cycles, watched the signs, analyzed every pattern. But then I was with you, and… I know it's yours."
Asriel's eyes softened as he stepped forward, his hand outstretched to her. "Marisa… What are we going to do? What do you want to do?
Marisa hesitated. Her fingers curled into her palms, fighting the fear. "We need a plan." She took a shaky breath in. Her eyes flickered with determination. "I have to go back to London. I have to face Edward."
Asriel frowned, his grip on her hand going taut. "You don't. We could leave now."
She shook her head, her voice unwavering. "We can't just run. If we disappear now, the Magisterium comes after us. And Edward…" She stopped, her voice turning stone hard. "He has connections. I need to go back, keep up the pretense, make him believe the baby is his."
Asriel's jaw clenched; his eyes developed increasing tension. "And if he finds out the truth?
Marisa looked away, her eyes fixed on a point far beyond the room. "Then everything falls apart. But if we're careful… if I convince him, we can buy time. Enough for us to get everything ready." She took a deep breath, and it seemed her resolve was set firm as concrete. "If the baby bears even a trace of you, you'll have to take it. I won't risk him seeing." But if it looks like me, then I'll take it. At least then, it will be with one of its parents."
Asriel's eyes burned as he pulled her close. "Marisa, we do not have to pretend with them. We can fight."
"And lose everything," she retorted, her eyes flashing. "You think I haven't thought that? We get one shot at this. I have to go back. I have to make him believe it's his; at least until it's too late for him to do anything about it."
Asriel wore a mixture of frustration and admiration on his face. "You'd go through all this… just to protect it?"
She nodded, her voice softening as her hand moved to her abdomen. "I would." Her eyes briefly softened, and she added, "I don't like calling it; it.'"
Asriel tilted his head, a warmth touching his gaze. "Then don't. Give her a name."
"Her?" Marisa whispered, her eyes widening slightly.
Asriel's face softened. "It's just a feeling," he said, a subtle smile forming. "But if it's true… if it's a girl, she'll be as fierce as you." He stopped, his thumb stroking over her knuckles. "We'll figure this out, Marisa. We'll find a way."
She hesitated, her gaze dropping as she felt a new wave of vulnerability wash over her. Acknowledging the life within her made her chest tighten—a mixture of fear, tenderness, and something else she couldn't quite name. For a long moment, she remained quiet, letting herself feel it. Then she whispered, almost bashfully, "Astrum."
He smiled, some of the tension in his face easing. "Astrum; like the constellation?
Marisa nodded. "Yes. She's ours, Asriel, she's the light we have to protect."
He exhaled in a slow hiss, the feral coming back to his eyes as he pulled her into his arms, her head resting over his heart, the beat instantly calming her. "No one will take her from us, Marisa. No one."
They stayed this way for a moment, the storm outside a hazy echo. Marisa's mind was racing ahead already, calculating what to do, but she gave herself this moment, taking strength in Asriel's presence.
"We will do this," she said now, steady and firm, "and we'll keep her safe."
Marisa closed her eyes for a second and leaned into him as her decision came to be. "For her."
I kind of took this chapter and ran with it. I had no planned ending for it. I edited this one and read it so many times and decided if I kept doing that, this part would have never been published, so here I am, posting. Stay tuned—there are 3-4 parts remaining, some of which are already partially written.
Happy Reading!