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Freyalin's been quiet since being home. Hien knows that's not uncommon, and it didn't usually bother him. A lot of the time he's already apprised on the goings on with the Warrior of Light through the reports of the vast network of friends they share, so he never feels the need to push for details. Whenever she walks through their doors all he wishes for her is to feel like she can forget all that if only for a little while. He hopes she knows that as he runs fingers through her hair; her head easily placed in his lap.
Nevertheless, this time her silence feels different. In a way that leaves the air in the room unsettled — slightly off kilter. He can all but see the gears turn inside her brain.
Freyalin shifts and lets out a yelp, hand moving towards her stomach. She lets out an exasperated laugh and tightens her hold. "He's restless today," she mutters without looking up at him. Absentmindedly running a hand up and down her front.
A crooked smile blossoms onto Hien's face with the familiar sensation of warmth welling up in him. He moves a hand of his own down and goes to place it on her when he involuntarily jerks to a pause. Hand choosing to hover instead.
Honestly, he still wasn't sure he could believe this was happening. That in only a few short moons — Kami willing — he'll be holding a child. His child. An heir to a throne he still hadn't a clue what to do with. He didn't grow up with this throne meaning anything more than a hollow formality and suddenly there was opportunity to restore it to the glory it once was. That's even if his countrymen would accept the idea of it in the first pla—
Hien's thinking is cut off as a hand encircles his wrist and pulls it down from it's still wavering position. He lets out an embarrassed chuckle as he splays his fingers across Freyalin's stomach. A beat passes and then the jolt of a tiny foot beats against his palm. They both suck in a breath.
Hien turns his gaze towards Freyalin's face and watches her eye their intertwined hands. There's a small smile across her lips as her cheeks flush. Leaning down he plants a kiss to her forehead that cause her to stir as she takes both his arms and wraps them tighter around her, settling in with a content hum. With a smile he moves his lips to linger atop her head.
If only for a moment, the silence seems to dissipates its hostile nature. Hien feels himself relaxing.
Emboldened, he takes the chance, staring out at the room in front of him, the question releases, "Are you alright?"
She stiffens under him but does not pull away. A small victory. "I think so…" she breathes out, "Mostly."
A small huff of a chuckle exits through his nose at her true-to-self answer. She responds with a laugh of her own, bringing a hand to her face. "I know," she whispers; hand falling and face slipping back into it's far away, hardened state.
Moments pass and all Hien does is hold her. Freyalin leans her head back onto his chest. "I have to leave again," she finally says. More towards the room than to him.
He lets out a small hum. Of course he expects it, but it doesn't stop his heart squeezing pathetically at the confirmation. He moves one of his hand up and down her arm; holding on tighter than he maybe need to. Freyalin still does not pull away.
"To another shard," she says quietly.
That stops him. The way she says it makes him hold breath. This wasn't the same exploration missions to the Thirteenth she's told him about, nor the…odd way a tiny bubble of the Ninth has apparently showed up here. No, this reminds him of the first time she told him this. When he was barely recovered or conscious after their battle at Ghmlyit. Two of them only even together for half a moon, only to have her confused and frustrated and leaving. Then she was gone for nearly eight moons and all he could do was wait. He swallows a hard lump that formed inside his throat.
"Again?" he asks.
"Again," she parrots. She places a kiss to his arm as she lets out a shaky sigh. "Worse."
She then begins to explain it all. Hien can't help but grow in his fear and horror. In stalling The Final Days, in ending The Final Days, a more primal, natural destruction faces them now. And the way to stop it wasn't yet guaranteed. If there even was one.
No, he can't think like that. Shouldn't think like that. It does nothing to help the situation be less dire. All it does is add needless kindling to the raging anxious fire.
He shakes his head to try and release himself of the fog that forms as he attempts to take it all in…
"I don't want to go," Freyalin finishes.
Those particular words bring Hien back from the brink. He knows it's a lie but it is a very pretty one. He gives a resigned smile. "It's okay," he responds.
Freyalin turns to look at him. There's emotion in her eyes that he's seen before that tell him there's something at the tip of her tongue, but most of the time it's swallowed down and he's left wondering. Her eyes drop to his lips as she takes in a newfound breath and looks at him so directly his own breath stalls.
"But what if I just stayed here? As the Lady of Doma and nothing else," she asks.
He falters a bit at that. It was a shame he never cared to admit, but sometimes he did let his mind wander to that. What it'd look like not only outward but inward. In truth, he knows she'd not hate per say but tire of it easily. Which was something he could not blamed her for. Hearing her stories, learning of her new task, it all suited her much better. It's how and why he fell in love with her in the first place. He would never ask to change that part of her. Never wants to.
Besides, the look and feel of the proud nation's royal family forever changed the moment Garlean boots first touched down on Doman soul, in the time before his very own birth. It shifted even more when he chose to flood its last beacon of hope. This "new" Doma was still very much in its infancy and though he still loved and stood by them there was little reason to force it's old traditions so staunchly; even if it meant her staying by his side more than a few hours, or days, or moons (if that) at a time.
Hien gives a sad smile and squeezes her hand, "You could do that," he whispers, "But would that be what you want?"
The answer flashes across Freyalin's face before she even has to say anything. She looks down towards the floor, "I'm sorry."
He leans further back into the bed and drags her with him so she lays with her back to his chest. He lays both hands gently back onto her belly; emotion swelling in his throat. He kisses the top of her head, then her forehead, then her temple. "There's naught to apologize for," he says. He means it. She leans her weight further on him, clutching to his arm. "Your place is here," he emphasizes, "as long as you'll have it. More importantly, whenever you need it."
He buries his face in her hair as he feels her stiffen. A rare, raw moment of vulnerability for the both of them, but if she really is to travel so far away soon, to help the entire planet not collapse well, then there really was no time like the present.
There's more movement under his hand and he sucks in a breath. It shifts a small second time and he hears her release a watery laugh that mimics his own.
Though he'd never say it out loud, he never imagined he'd be a father, and hasn't the first clue how to go about it. He loved his own father but for reasons obvious it wasn't a tender, loving, simple relationship between the two. It was based deeply in respect and survival. Out of duty and dignity. He at least was afforded glimpses into the love his parents had for one other; when it wasn't guarded and constantly under inspection.
Though now he wonders if they ever got to have moments like this when he was still inside his mother or if the Empire didn't even give them that.
A kiss onto his bicep pulls him away from his deep thoughts yet again and he releases a long huff of air.
"Where'd you go," Freyalin asks.
Hien smiles apologetically. "My parents…" is all he manages to say.
She studies his face a moment, "I see…I know…" she responds.
He lets out a thoughtful hum. She's never spoke of her parents at length and from what he gathers from both her and her brother there wasn't much to tell. Strangers at best to their own children, it made his heart ache and temper flare.
"I'd like to stay here until he's born," Freyalin states. He blinks a moment. This is the second time she's used he so confidently, and judging by the startled look on her face she's noticed that too. "Oh…well" she lets outs before a laugh follows.
Hien follows her chuckle. So he was to have a son. A cocktail of emotions encircles him, but he can't help the well of pride that tops it all off. There's a swell that takes over his chest. His mother would have done perfect with a grandson.
"I'll stay until he is born, let the others know…" she starts again, adjusting her thoughts. "But after that I may not have…" Enough time. The words dangle in the air.
Hien nods. "I welcome that plan," he says, "And once…he…arrives, we'll take it hour by hour, day by day until you must go." Must. Not if. He bites his lip to tamper down the bitterness coating his tongue.
Freyalin exhales a large sigh through her nose. He braces for another apology but watches her apparently swallow it down. "Alright," she ends on instead.
The rest of the night is punctuated by the comfortable quiet as they simply take in each other's company. They bathe together as they often do and he brushes her hair to the point where she practically falls asleep in his arms.
The next morning he wakes first. It's not something that happens often, so he takes the time to relish in it. Selfishly gladdened and satisfied by the knowledge that this will be his life, at least, for the foreseeable days.