Post by devilinthedetails on Jul 31, 2018 0:15:13 GMT 10
Title: In Memory
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: Rememberance
Summary: Sarai wants to name her son in memory of her father.
In Memory
“I threw up this morning.” Silk dress swishing about her ankles, Sarai sauntered out of the bathing room in the quarters she shared with Zaimid, looking radiant rather than nauseated.
“You sound very proud of that fact.” Zaimid arched an eyebrow at her as he glanced up from the essays he was grading at his desk for students in his healing courses at the university.
“I am.” Sarai slid gracefully onto his lap, and he was grateful when the sweet aroma of jasmine perfume wafted over him rather than vomit since he smelled enough of that foul substance to last him a lifetime in his work as a healer. “I also missed my monthly cycles.”
He felt a surge of excitement at the prospect of fatherhood–he and Sarai had been trying for a child since they were married–and forced himself to speak calmly as if she were his patient instead of his wife, “Missed cycles and nausea can mean many things, my dear. It could be a sign of the stress you’re inevitably feeling at being uprooted from your homeland and adjusting to life here in Carthak. It’s not definitive proof of pregnancy.”
“My clever husband is determined to outsmart himself again, I see.” Sarai’s chiding click of her tongue against the roof of her mouth made Zaimid grin ruefully. Guiding his hands down so they encircled her abdomen, she twisted to murmur in his ear, “Let’s get definitive proof then, love.”
As she wished, he probed her with gentle, questing tendrils, he felt a life that wasn’t hers stirring within her womb. The life was embryonic–the size of a quill’s tip with a heart only beginning to form–and it was more spirit than body yet the spirit that existed was unmistakably masculine.
“A son.” Zaimid had never such felt such bliss as he did with his palms resting over his wife’s warm body, touching the new life they had created. He wished he could be more articulate, but as ever the greatest joys he experienced were sublime beyond his humble ability to paste together words.
“Mequen.” Sarai’s fingers intertwined with his as she named their baby. “In memory of my father.”
“Of course we should honor your father.” Zaimid squeezed her fingers, surprised at her selection given the culture that had reared her. “We could give our son a name very similar to your father’s to memorialize him without violating the tradition in the Copper Isles of naming a baby after the dead.”
“There’s no such custom in Carthak.” Sarai favored him with her most dazzling half-moon smile. “We’re in Carthak, not the Copper Isles. The Copper Isles are a mere memory to me now, a memory I would hold onto by naming my son after my father.”
“Who am I to refuse such a desire?” Zaimid kissed the curve of her neck. “Henceforth our son shall be known as Mequen in accordance with your will, my lady.”
“Don’t get formal with me.” Sarai wrinkled her nose at him even as she laughed. “It makes me believe you aren’t taking me seriously.”
“I could never take the naming of our child anything less than seriously,” Zaimid assured her, fighting for a straight face.
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: Rememberance
Summary: Sarai wants to name her son in memory of her father.
In Memory
“I threw up this morning.” Silk dress swishing about her ankles, Sarai sauntered out of the bathing room in the quarters she shared with Zaimid, looking radiant rather than nauseated.
“You sound very proud of that fact.” Zaimid arched an eyebrow at her as he glanced up from the essays he was grading at his desk for students in his healing courses at the university.
“I am.” Sarai slid gracefully onto his lap, and he was grateful when the sweet aroma of jasmine perfume wafted over him rather than vomit since he smelled enough of that foul substance to last him a lifetime in his work as a healer. “I also missed my monthly cycles.”
He felt a surge of excitement at the prospect of fatherhood–he and Sarai had been trying for a child since they were married–and forced himself to speak calmly as if she were his patient instead of his wife, “Missed cycles and nausea can mean many things, my dear. It could be a sign of the stress you’re inevitably feeling at being uprooted from your homeland and adjusting to life here in Carthak. It’s not definitive proof of pregnancy.”
“My clever husband is determined to outsmart himself again, I see.” Sarai’s chiding click of her tongue against the roof of her mouth made Zaimid grin ruefully. Guiding his hands down so they encircled her abdomen, she twisted to murmur in his ear, “Let’s get definitive proof then, love.”
As she wished, he probed her with gentle, questing tendrils, he felt a life that wasn’t hers stirring within her womb. The life was embryonic–the size of a quill’s tip with a heart only beginning to form–and it was more spirit than body yet the spirit that existed was unmistakably masculine.
“A son.” Zaimid had never such felt such bliss as he did with his palms resting over his wife’s warm body, touching the new life they had created. He wished he could be more articulate, but as ever the greatest joys he experienced were sublime beyond his humble ability to paste together words.
“Mequen.” Sarai’s fingers intertwined with his as she named their baby. “In memory of my father.”
“Of course we should honor your father.” Zaimid squeezed her fingers, surprised at her selection given the culture that had reared her. “We could give our son a name very similar to your father’s to memorialize him without violating the tradition in the Copper Isles of naming a baby after the dead.”
“There’s no such custom in Carthak.” Sarai favored him with her most dazzling half-moon smile. “We’re in Carthak, not the Copper Isles. The Copper Isles are a mere memory to me now, a memory I would hold onto by naming my son after my father.”
“Who am I to refuse such a desire?” Zaimid kissed the curve of her neck. “Henceforth our son shall be known as Mequen in accordance with your will, my lady.”
“Don’t get formal with me.” Sarai wrinkled her nose at him even as she laughed. “It makes me believe you aren’t taking me seriously.”
“I could never take the naming of our child anything less than seriously,” Zaimid assured her, fighting for a straight face.