Post by devilinthedetails on Mar 4, 2018 12:07:28 GMT 10
Title: New Life
Prompt: News
Summary: Alanna has trouble believing what Neal tells her.
Author's Note: Spoiler alert for Spy Guide.
New Life
Alanna felt like a thief in the night as she crept through the healers’ ward at New Hope. She didn’t want to awaken any of the slumbering patients—the mission she was on was as confidential as a spying one—because she wished for nobody to see where her cat-quiet feet were headed. Some of the sleepers stirred beneath their blankets as she passed but she saw that was from pain, not an awareness of her presence.
When she reached the end of the ward, she found Neal, burning the midnight oil as Kel had promised, in his office with the door ajar so he could monitor his charges. He glanced up from a report he was reviewing under the inconstant light of flickering candles as she slipped through the open door and shut it behind her, not wanting anyone to overhear what might be said by her or Neal on this October night that chilled her from top to toe.
“Please sit.” He waved a hand at chairs carved like all the furniture at New Hope from the hard wood of the north. As if realizing that every available seating surface was piled with records, he added, “Feel free to move the paperwork or use it as a cushion, whichever you prefer. I’m not fussy about where I put all this parchment.”
Since her aching bones needed all the cushions they could get, she lowered herself into a chair across from Neal’s desk without clearing it of its mountain of parchment. Her joints creaked as she gritted her teeth and gathered her courage to do something that had always been more difficult than battle for her: request a favor.
It would have felt more natural for her to command Neal to do what she required of him, but she had always hated it when Jon had forgotten the former part of squire and ordered her about as if she had to heed his every beck and call. Neal was as prickly as her, and she would travel a long, bumpy road to nowhere if she tried to tell him what to do. She and Neal weren’t two peas in a pod as Kel and Raoul were. Alanna would have bet her last copper that pair never engaged in shouting matches that culminated in slammed doors or smashed belongings. Her and Neal’s flaws chafed against each other like bowstring pulled taut against gloveless skin.
So many years ago, she had vowed to herself that she would never train a temperamental young man (and all young men were temperamental) in magic or in the fighting arts—her failure with Ishak in the desert was forever incised on her heart—but Duke Baird had begged a favor of her. Now that favor would come full circle when she asked a favor of Duke Baird’s son.
“Will you examine me?” Alanna hid a wince when the words sounded too clipped even to her own ears.
“A test for your former squire?’ Neal arched an eyebrow. “Were the records around you not enough of a hint that I’m swamped up to my neck with important, life-saving work?”
“Not a test except of your loyalty.” Alanna bit back the temptation to snap as her blood scalded her veins. She wouldn’t have been surprised if her amethyst eyes had flared crimson as she fought to contain her irritation. “A favor you might perform for me if you’ve any respect for me at all.”
“My respect for you is boundless.” Neal gave her a half-bow that was definitely more mocking than respectful. Only the knowledge that she wanted his help prevented her from hurling a scroll at his smug face. “For what in particular would you like me to examine you?”
“I’ve been vomiting every morning for days now.” Alanna’s hands shifted in the pockets of her breeches as she related the one symptom she couldn’t ignore.
“Probably food poisoning.” Neal’s nose wrinkled. “I’ve had seven cases this week alone. People insist on stuffing their stomachs with spoiled meat no matter how many times I remind them not to eat food that smells rotten, because I’m just a healer and what do I know?”
“It’s not food poisoning.” Alanna cut across Neal’s rant as soon as he paused to draw breath. “I can feel it in my bones, Neal.”
“Very well.” Neal strode around his desk to splay his palms over her abdomen. “Let the friendly healer figure out what is wrong with you.”
Emerald magic swelled around his fingertips and then flowed into her in a soft stream. Almost instantly, his Gift drained from her as he gasped and yanked his hands off her as if they had been burned. “You’re pregnant!”
“I’m not.” Alanna shook her head so many times that she could blame her dizziness on the rapid, jerking motions instead of the news Neal had given her. “That’s impossible. Ay my age, I should be becoming unable to bear children, not getting pregnant unexpectedly like a village girl in love for the first time and too foolish to wear her protective charm.”
When she and Thayet had last swapped complaints of weakening muscles and thinning hair, Thayet had confided to her that the Change of Life was upon her. She had grumbled that the cravings, mood swings, and feverish flashes of the monthly cycles were a spring picnic compared to the havoc the Change of Life inflicted on a woman’s body. That nightmare was the one Alanna should have been facing, not the birth of another little monster after she had raised all the children she had thought she would ever have.
“By all the gods.” Neal swore and muttered something suspiciously similar to a suggestion where she could stow her disbelief. “I don’t know why you bothered coming to see me if you won’t accept what I’m telling you.”
“I do believe you.” Alanna pinched her earlobe to focus her mind. She had known she was pregnant for months now even if she had pretended ignorance. She had felt the increased weight around her midsection slowing her movements. She had experienced hunger pangs followed by nausea as soon as she smelled or tasted food. She had squirmed when the new life growing inside her kicked at the walls of her womb and told herself that it was only the protesting of old wounds. She hadn’t wanted to acknowledge the truth all these signs were screaming at her. That was why she had never probed herself for what was wrong with her, since she sensed it was nothing that nine months wouldn’t cure. She had needed to hear what was happening from Neal because she trusted him. His was the voice that could speak to her when she was determined to ignore her own. The mere thought of another baby—of midnight crying and sleepless nights—made her feel on the brink of collapse. “I just feel as though I’m about to faint.”
“I won’t judge you if you do.” Neal’s seaweed eyes were sympathetic even if his tone wasn’t. “I fainted when Yuki told me she was pregnant with our first child. A good fainting is nothing to be ashamed of, that’s what I always say.”
“Keep talking about fainting, and I’ll slice out your tongue with my sword.” Responding to Neal’s irony with her traditional threats rejuvenated her. She wondered if that was what he had intended or if it was merely a happy accident for her.
“I won’t offer to get smelling salts then.” Neal coughed to clear his throat. “I trust I don’t need to remind you of the heightened risks of a pregnancy at your stage of life.”
“You don’t.” Alanna snorted. “I taught you everything you know about healing but not everything I know about healing. Remember that before you get cocky.”
“I remember everything you tell me.” Neal was impertinent as ever but Alanna sensed he was listening to her and that was all that mattered in the end.
“Then remember this.” She locked her gaze on his. “I’m trusting you to keep my pregnancy a secret, Neal. Nobody must hear about this until I’m ready to tell them.”
“Your secret is safe with me.” Neal slid from seriousness into sarcasm. “Who would I even whisper your secret to in this dirty armpit of Tortall?”
"Your flippancy makes me want to follow my husband's advice about two being able to keep a secret only if one is dead." Alanna wagged a warning finger.
“That charming bit of wisdom sounds like something the Whisper Man would say.” Neal snickered. “Send him my regards when you write him with your news.”
Prompt: News
Summary: Alanna has trouble believing what Neal tells her.
Author's Note: Spoiler alert for Spy Guide.
New Life
Alanna felt like a thief in the night as she crept through the healers’ ward at New Hope. She didn’t want to awaken any of the slumbering patients—the mission she was on was as confidential as a spying one—because she wished for nobody to see where her cat-quiet feet were headed. Some of the sleepers stirred beneath their blankets as she passed but she saw that was from pain, not an awareness of her presence.
When she reached the end of the ward, she found Neal, burning the midnight oil as Kel had promised, in his office with the door ajar so he could monitor his charges. He glanced up from a report he was reviewing under the inconstant light of flickering candles as she slipped through the open door and shut it behind her, not wanting anyone to overhear what might be said by her or Neal on this October night that chilled her from top to toe.
“Please sit.” He waved a hand at chairs carved like all the furniture at New Hope from the hard wood of the north. As if realizing that every available seating surface was piled with records, he added, “Feel free to move the paperwork or use it as a cushion, whichever you prefer. I’m not fussy about where I put all this parchment.”
Since her aching bones needed all the cushions they could get, she lowered herself into a chair across from Neal’s desk without clearing it of its mountain of parchment. Her joints creaked as she gritted her teeth and gathered her courage to do something that had always been more difficult than battle for her: request a favor.
It would have felt more natural for her to command Neal to do what she required of him, but she had always hated it when Jon had forgotten the former part of squire and ordered her about as if she had to heed his every beck and call. Neal was as prickly as her, and she would travel a long, bumpy road to nowhere if she tried to tell him what to do. She and Neal weren’t two peas in a pod as Kel and Raoul were. Alanna would have bet her last copper that pair never engaged in shouting matches that culminated in slammed doors or smashed belongings. Her and Neal’s flaws chafed against each other like bowstring pulled taut against gloveless skin.
So many years ago, she had vowed to herself that she would never train a temperamental young man (and all young men were temperamental) in magic or in the fighting arts—her failure with Ishak in the desert was forever incised on her heart—but Duke Baird had begged a favor of her. Now that favor would come full circle when she asked a favor of Duke Baird’s son.
“Will you examine me?” Alanna hid a wince when the words sounded too clipped even to her own ears.
“A test for your former squire?’ Neal arched an eyebrow. “Were the records around you not enough of a hint that I’m swamped up to my neck with important, life-saving work?”
“Not a test except of your loyalty.” Alanna bit back the temptation to snap as her blood scalded her veins. She wouldn’t have been surprised if her amethyst eyes had flared crimson as she fought to contain her irritation. “A favor you might perform for me if you’ve any respect for me at all.”
“My respect for you is boundless.” Neal gave her a half-bow that was definitely more mocking than respectful. Only the knowledge that she wanted his help prevented her from hurling a scroll at his smug face. “For what in particular would you like me to examine you?”
“I’ve been vomiting every morning for days now.” Alanna’s hands shifted in the pockets of her breeches as she related the one symptom she couldn’t ignore.
“Probably food poisoning.” Neal’s nose wrinkled. “I’ve had seven cases this week alone. People insist on stuffing their stomachs with spoiled meat no matter how many times I remind them not to eat food that smells rotten, because I’m just a healer and what do I know?”
“It’s not food poisoning.” Alanna cut across Neal’s rant as soon as he paused to draw breath. “I can feel it in my bones, Neal.”
“Very well.” Neal strode around his desk to splay his palms over her abdomen. “Let the friendly healer figure out what is wrong with you.”
Emerald magic swelled around his fingertips and then flowed into her in a soft stream. Almost instantly, his Gift drained from her as he gasped and yanked his hands off her as if they had been burned. “You’re pregnant!”
“I’m not.” Alanna shook her head so many times that she could blame her dizziness on the rapid, jerking motions instead of the news Neal had given her. “That’s impossible. Ay my age, I should be becoming unable to bear children, not getting pregnant unexpectedly like a village girl in love for the first time and too foolish to wear her protective charm.”
When she and Thayet had last swapped complaints of weakening muscles and thinning hair, Thayet had confided to her that the Change of Life was upon her. She had grumbled that the cravings, mood swings, and feverish flashes of the monthly cycles were a spring picnic compared to the havoc the Change of Life inflicted on a woman’s body. That nightmare was the one Alanna should have been facing, not the birth of another little monster after she had raised all the children she had thought she would ever have.
“By all the gods.” Neal swore and muttered something suspiciously similar to a suggestion where she could stow her disbelief. “I don’t know why you bothered coming to see me if you won’t accept what I’m telling you.”
“I do believe you.” Alanna pinched her earlobe to focus her mind. She had known she was pregnant for months now even if she had pretended ignorance. She had felt the increased weight around her midsection slowing her movements. She had experienced hunger pangs followed by nausea as soon as she smelled or tasted food. She had squirmed when the new life growing inside her kicked at the walls of her womb and told herself that it was only the protesting of old wounds. She hadn’t wanted to acknowledge the truth all these signs were screaming at her. That was why she had never probed herself for what was wrong with her, since she sensed it was nothing that nine months wouldn’t cure. She had needed to hear what was happening from Neal because she trusted him. His was the voice that could speak to her when she was determined to ignore her own. The mere thought of another baby—of midnight crying and sleepless nights—made her feel on the brink of collapse. “I just feel as though I’m about to faint.”
“I won’t judge you if you do.” Neal’s seaweed eyes were sympathetic even if his tone wasn’t. “I fainted when Yuki told me she was pregnant with our first child. A good fainting is nothing to be ashamed of, that’s what I always say.”
“Keep talking about fainting, and I’ll slice out your tongue with my sword.” Responding to Neal’s irony with her traditional threats rejuvenated her. She wondered if that was what he had intended or if it was merely a happy accident for her.
“I won’t offer to get smelling salts then.” Neal coughed to clear his throat. “I trust I don’t need to remind you of the heightened risks of a pregnancy at your stage of life.”
“You don’t.” Alanna snorted. “I taught you everything you know about healing but not everything I know about healing. Remember that before you get cocky.”
“I remember everything you tell me.” Neal was impertinent as ever but Alanna sensed he was listening to her and that was all that mattered in the end.
“Then remember this.” She locked her gaze on his. “I’m trusting you to keep my pregnancy a secret, Neal. Nobody must hear about this until I’m ready to tell them.”
“Your secret is safe with me.” Neal slid from seriousness into sarcasm. “Who would I even whisper your secret to in this dirty armpit of Tortall?”
"Your flippancy makes me want to follow my husband's advice about two being able to keep a secret only if one is dead." Alanna wagged a warning finger.
“That charming bit of wisdom sounds like something the Whisper Man would say.” Neal snickered. “Send him my regards when you write him with your news.”
