Cahir stood in the tent, holding Isabella's silk handkerchief. It was a windy night, and Nilfgaard was stationed out in the East. They had just conquered the Kingdom of Finnlynn. The battle was short lived, and there were plans on returning back to Nilfgaard tomorrow. Standing there, he held onto the handkerchief, actually trying to summon his bride's face even though it had been a few months. At first Cahir didn't think he would become attached to Isabella. He originally saw her as a burden, just a child now was now married to him. His father looming over, waiting for Chair to have a son with her, as always controlling and judging. Still, durning the night, when he laid, staring up at the stars, his hands behind his head, he would gaze up and wonder if she was okay? Today after battle as he cleans his arrows, blood slightly splattered across his face, he thought of Isabella and remembered how it felt as he entered her warm and tight womb. How she flinched in pain every time he entered and moved inside of her. He thought back on them saying goodbye, her scared wide eyes staring up at him.
"Please come back to me."
It then hit him, he actually missed her. He missed his wife. Tonight, he held the handkerchief that he always kept tucked inside his armor. Holding it between his slender fingers, he stared out and began to think of how she might have been doing? Since the army was constantly on the move, letters hadn't been sent out. He hated that the only time he wasn't thinking about her, was when he was out on the battlefield. He just hoped his father wasn't being cruel to her. The very thought of him bothering her send his temper into a complete tailspin. He knew if he ever laid a finger on her, he would kill him. Holding the handkerchief he knew he could be like his brothers, like his father, beat his wife, fuck her until she gave him a son, and if all she could give were daughters, he would drive her away as he found someone else. He knew how his family viewed their wives, just vessels, with absolutely no emotional attachment if they lived or died. It hit him as he stood there, holding her handkerchief, that he actually missed her.
A few days later...
Cahir climbed off his horse, taking a deep breath. He had headed straight to his family home in hopes of getting Isabella and getting out of there as quickly as possible and returning to the cottage. He had plans on finding a new home for the two of them, one that put plenty of miles between them and his bastard of a father. He just hoped they hadn't made her life a living Hell in the months that he was away. Taking a deep breath, he walked to the front door, where Mary, their servant, the wet-nurse who took care of Cahir was a child as well as his siblings answered the door and smiled.
"Cahir! How good to see you!"
Cahir smirked before Mary led him in.
"You're parents were called to a town meeting, you're sisters went with them, Isabella knew you were due home and stayed behind. She's been waiting for you, poor thing has missed you terribly. Every time she heard a horse she tenses all up, thinking it's you. She'll be thrilled to see you darling."
Mary walked ahead of him, before she stopped in the doorway of the dinning room. A roaring fire was going and instantly Cahir felt grateful that his family wasn't around. That he could hopefully get his wife, and leave without going through the motions, and fighting the urge to scream. It didn't matter how many battles Cahir fought in and won, it didn't matter how respected he was in the military, he would forever be the runt of the family. He would be the disappointment, sickened by the control and fear his father had over his family. Entering, he saw his wife, dressed in a simple black gown, hair pinned up, sitting by the fire, her hands placed on the tiny bump of her stomach that was starting to form on her tiny frame. Cahir's eyes widened staring. She was pregnant. He had gotten her pregnant on their wedding night. Looking at her, those blue tired eyes, her pale skin, her dark hair, suddenly he came overwhelmed by hw much he loved her. This was his wife, his young wife, who he had forced himself on the night he claimed he was making her a woman. Instead she had stared up frightened, and shortly after that he left her alone. Now she was carrying his child. Staring at her, he couldn't believe how beautiful she was. Staring, he turned towards Mary as gave her his helmet. She smiled before whispering...
"I'll be in the kitchen, I'll fetch you some tea. Poor thing and missed you so badly. The doctor has been in to see her. She had pain in the beginning and was so scared. You're mother and sisters were there, but she's so young. The doctor thought at first she might lose it, poor thing was stuck in bed for weeks. She kept asking for you. She missed you so much. Anytime she was in pain she kept saying she wanted her husband. She loves you a great deal Cahir. You take care of her."
Chair looked in feeling guilty. How wasn't he contacted that any of this was happening? Right away he knew it was just another power trip, a way to control, most likely taking pleasure in how scared she was, wanting him, and being unable to reach him. Sighing, fighting his temper down, he looked at Mary.
"She's fine, as is the child. The doctor said she's a little weak, but she should be fine to carry it. I'm saying it only once, since you're father might raise Hell if I speak out of line...but I care for you as if you were my own son. The doctor said she might not survive the birth."
Cahir's face dropped as he stared at Mary.
Mary shook her head.
"Speak with the doctor, remember you didn't hear it from me. Go to her, she's missed you so badly..."
Cahir sighed, standing back before walking in, heavy boots clicking as he walked across the floorboards. The second she heard the noise, Isabella's exhausted stunning blue eyes glanced over before they widened in disbelief.
Cahir grinned as he hurried over, before kneeling in front of her chair. Gazing at her stomach, he knew she was maybe a little over four months along. There growing inside of her was his child. The child they had made together. Deep down inside, he hoped it was a girl. How that would outrage his father! Smiling, feeling the strangest fluttering in his stomach, he knew for certain he was in love with her. Hating that he had left her all alone, he reached and cupped the side of her face with his much larger hand. Tilting his head to the side, he sighed.
"You're with child?"
Isabella smiled through tears of joy, rubbing her stomach.
"Yes...it appears you did in fact make an heir."
Cahir bowed his head.
"I should have been more gentle and patient. I had been arguing with my father and I was upset. I knew I was leaving...and...it's unspeakable how I treated you."
Isabella tilted her head to the side and shook her head.
"No matter what, I was still a virgin. Your duty was to make me a woman, and in doing so...you were able to achieve your goal. We have a child Cahir. I've missed you so much..."
She raised her hand, gently brushing a few fallen strands of hair away. Sighing, Cahir still felt awful.
"Nevertheless my love, I swear I'll never hurt you again. My duty is to protect you. I swear, I won't leave again until after the baby is born."
"But what if you're called away..."
Cahir shook his head.
"To Hell with them. My place is with you. Now, I'm fetching Mary to pack your things, and send them to our home, You're not spending any second in this house..."
"Your family have looked after me..."
"I know my father Isabella. I know how he is. Your place is with me."
He raised her hand and gently kissed it, before Isabella sighed, blinking tears away.
"Cahir...the doctor said..."
Cahir bowed his head, fighting back this temper.
"No...not another word."
Isabella ran her fingers through his sandy colored hair.
"Cahir, you need to listen..."
Cahir raised his face, and stared at her glaring.
"No. I will not lose you. Either of you."
Reaching down, he reached down and gently placed his hand on her stomach. Smiling, Isabella covered his hand with hers.
"I've missed you so much my love."
Leaning forward, Cahir gently kissed her lips, faintly tasting blackberries on her lips. Smiling through the kiss, Isabella pulled back and stared at him. Standing, Cahir reached down, and scooped Isabella as if she weighed nothing. Squealing with delight, she cried his name as he laughed, something he honestly hadn't done in what seemed like years. Picking her up, he held her, carrying her, before Mary entered with a tray with the tea ready. She raised an eyebrow looking stunned, before Cahir warmly smiled down at Isabella, before he looked at Mary.
"Please pack and send my wife's things to our home. Let my father know I'll see him tomorrow. Tonight my wishes are to be left alone with my wife."
Mary smiled as Cahir carried out Isabella, ignoring the fact that he had been told that he may perhaps lose his wife in childbirth. A reality he was refusing to face. No, at this exact moment he was home with his wife who was carrying his child. Nothing could hurt them.
Later that night...
Isabella snapped her eyes shut, squirming in the bed she shared with Cahir. Her hair was pooled out over the pillow, as she licked her lips, grabbing handfuls of the pillow, as she tried not to cry out. Earlier today they had returned home. Cahir had several of his family's servants come and clean the cottage that had been sitting ever since he was called away. They brought in freshly chopped firewood, changed the bedding, and made this small little place feel like home. After having dinner, the entire time Cahir watched Isabella, as he removed his armor, highly amused as she woofed down her stew and bread like a madwoman. Afterwards Cahir drew them both a hot steaming bath, and both laid in the large tub together, Cahir staring at the tiny swollen stomach in total amazement.
"Can you feel it move?" Isabela smiled, her hair pinned up as she gently soaped up Cahir's thin chest, gently washing his body.
"Not yet, the doctor said soon."
"I hear, you...need to rest. This week I'll fetch the doctor and have him visit every week. I'll hire servants and you don't do anything besides rest and keep our child safe. It's growing inside of you, and I don't want to lose either of you."
Isabella warmly smiled.
"The doctor said I'll have to rest, only small walks, not allowed to lift anything...I've been bored, but reading a great deal. Please thank Mary for bringing my books. I've been so lonely without you, so my books have kept me company."
Cahir smiled, reaching under the surface of the water, reaching and touching her stomach.
"I'll do whatever I can to keep you amused..."
Isabella giggled before both gently began to kiss, mouths opening and closing. Afterwards, Isabella changed into her nightgown, brushing her hair by her vanity before Cahir took out his swords, arrows, and bows, cleaning them one by one, smiling proudly as Isabella watched him in the reflection of the mirror as she continued brushing her hair. Outside a gentle breeze began to blow and Isabella who finished, placing her brush down smiled.
"You can smell the wild fire flowers outside when the wind picks up like this. I love the smell of them..."
She climbed into bed, as Cahir stood, placing his swords away across the room, dressed in just his slacks, and black shirt. Smirking, he excused himself for a second, wanting to go outside to check on his horse. A few minutes later, he returned with a whole bunch of fire flowers picked. Placing them in an old tin that had been left inside the cottage, he carried them in as Isabella sat up in bed reading a book by candlelight. The second she saw them, her eyes lit up, as she put her book down. Her entire face lit up, making Cahir's heart flutter in his chest.
"They are so beautiful!"
Cahir smiled, putting them down on the nightstand beside her. Smiling, Isabella leaned down and shut her eyes, deeply smiling the flowers, before she sat back and stared up at him.
Cahir smiled, before Isabella gulped.
"You must want to make love, I'm ready."
Cahir smirked before shaking his head.
"No, actually...I thought of doing something else..."
Now, as Isabella cried out in pleasure, Cahir lifted his flushed face from between her two spread legs. Grinning, he smiled up at her, promising himself he wouldn't lose her, and be the mean bastard he was the night they conceived this child. No, he swore he wouldn't be like his father. He would be better. Smiling up at her, he placed his head gently down on her stomach where their child grew, before allowing sleep to slowly take over.