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1. [DL-C] She's Havin' My Baby...Well, Maybe... (JP)
From: trissana@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
1
Date: Sun, 15 May 2005 23:36:40 EDT
From: trissana@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
[DL-C] She's Havin' My Baby...Well, Maybe... (JP)
Feysal
Morning, Day 3
Feysal was busy scrubbing Falorin down, a job that he never quite got
used
to. In the Nomadlands, the biggest thing one had to worry about
cleaning was a
horse, and one *never* used water, which was far too precious for
merely
cleaning animals...
[Hey, watch it!] said Falorin. [Being compared to horses is bad enough,
but I
let it slide because I know how much you Nomads like them and all.
However,
this business about 'animals'...]
*Sorry,* said the distracted Nomad. *Um, but that's what we all are,
or so
they say...horses, dragons, humans...*
Falorin snorted. [All right, you may continue,] he said graciously,
having
made his point.
*Is Saleh in warren?* he asked.
[I guess,] the dragon replied. [Mystarria is, at any rate, so I'd
figure her
rider is with her. I could ask, but she's been a bit snippy of late.]
Feysal nodded. *Saleh has been snippy of late also. Does not show
proper
respect.* He went back to scrubbing.
* * * * *
/snip from Arlene's post/
As Saleh made her way back to her waiting dragon, another bout of
nausea
hit her. Mystarria came to her and nuzzled her rider. [You should go
home and rest.]
[*Can't, we have patrol, remember?*] Saleh commented.
[Not any more we don't!] Mystarria said smugly.
[*Don't joke with me, I feel bad enough...*]
[I know, and that's why we don't have patrol. I told...]
[*WHAT? You told? You stupid dragon!*] Saleh was horrified. It would
be all over camp in a matter of seconds! She looked around her as if
seeing a swarm of mad nomad men coming at her with swords drawn.
Mystarria looked hurt, [I told them that you were ill and needed to
rest!]
[*Oh... thank you.*] Saleh looked abashed.
[Now, let's go home.]
/end snip/
Falorin cocked his head. [Mystarria says she and her rider are coming
back.]
Feysal looked up from his scrubbing. *Why?* he asked. *Thought she was
scheduled for patrol.*
[I guess she was, but Mystarria said she wasn't feeling good,] the
dragon
replied.
*Not feeling good? What is wrong?* Feysal asked, a bit concerned.
Saleh
wouldn't call in sick and miss a patrol just because she was a bit
under the
weather.
[I don't know, Mystarria seemed inclined to say more, then just started
saying her rider didn't feel good and won't say anymore.]
"Strange," the young Nomad muttered to himself. But...when he started
thinking about it, was it really? She'd complained of queasiness in
the morning,
and he'd noted other symptoms too. His mind began to whirl.
*We need to get back to apartment!* he told Falorin.
[Now? But I'm not even dry!] the blue dragon protested.
*Lazy lump! Wind will dry you on way! We go now!*
In moments, the two of them were winging their way over to the
apartment.
Mystarria had already landed on the ledge, and a rather
unsteady-looking Saleh
was dismounting. As soon as the other pair could make room, he
directed
Falorin to land.
Sliding down Falorin's wet scales, Feysal hurried over to Saleh and put
his
arms around her - very gently, of course, now that he realized what her
condition was. "I am so glad to see you back!" he told her. "From now
until your
time, you should not fly patrols. I will talk to wingleader myself!"
Saleh blinked dazedly. "My...my time?" she asked.
"Time until our child is born!" Feysal laughed, kissing her before she
could
even reply. "From now until then, you shall be treated as northerners
treat
their queens! You shall do no work, and whatever your desire, this
Nomad will
fulfill! Nothing shall happen to prevent strong son from being born to
carry
on bloodline!"
Saleh groaned inwardly. No, this just wasn't happening! Another
wave of
dizziness and nausea overwhelmed her and she tried to hold back, but
with almost
a sense of satisfaction, she found herself heaving up what was left of
Cholmon'
s nasty tea right on Feysal.
Feysal looked down at himself and blinked. He had not expected this,
but if
this was the price of being a proud father...
He took from his pocket the rag he'd been using to scrub Falorin off,
and
quickly dabbed at his tunic. "Come, come," he told Saleh, putting an
arm around
her and drawing her inside. "New mother can throw up on father
whenever she
wants!" He got her inside, and immediately guided her toward a large,
comfortable chair. He quickly got her seated. "I shall get you
something to drink!"
he told her, heading for the kitchen. He stopped and looked back at
her.
"Unless you would rather eat?"
Saleh glared at Feysal and then rolled her eyes in disgust. She was
just
about to spit out the hurtful truth when a thought crossed her mind:
why ruin a
good thing? "No, nothing. Please, nothing. I just want to... rest,
but you
could bring me some pillows."
Feysal nodded, and hurried out. He reappeared a moment later with the
requested pillows, and spent several minutes getting Saleh comfortable.
"Nothing is
too good for mother of Nomad son!" he told her. "You shall be treated
as
queen!"
(Tag Arlene)
Submitted by:
John
(Feysal & Falorin)
and
Arlene
(Saleh & Mystarria)
Cleft Warren
Summary: Morning, Day 3: Feysal, believing that Saleh is still
carrying his
child, determines to treat her as a queen during the period of her
pregnancy.
He takes her into the apartment and proceeds to wait hand and foot on
her.
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