❤ ▬▬ emotional starters to kick you in the feelings. || Still accepting
@anahori-simon asked: “Let’s talk about what you want.”
The prattling that had stemmed from the woman as she went over the various things that the crew had imparted to her halted entirely as Simon had uttered the words to her. Desires that had welled up within the crew’s hearts had been taken with incredible detail by the former princess. Things such as, but by no means limited to: new plants to harvest in the arboretum, new foods they wished the woman to concoct to sate their palate, and room arrangements to encourage better morale.
All things she had queried of them to bring a wave of joy among those on the journey, but it had only been her husband that even turned the question back upon herself.
Stunned silence came from her as florets stared into spiral optics, rose petal lips parting ever so slightly. Her hands brushed along the paper she had taken the notes down upon—which she had been recanting to Simon, the commander, who could make the dreams into reality—instead coming to withdraw towards her middle instinctively.
Slowly, a smile peeked at the edges of Nia’s lips as she shook her head. “I want for nothing, Simon. I have everything I could ever ask for.” A truth, in a sense. Even aboard the ship that they had made their home, ever since her emergence into the world, the princess of Teppelin had found herself unable to request more than what meager offerings could be given for her continued survival. Because she had gained enough from merely being reconstructed—nothing more deserved to her.
She had her family once more. She had a home. Fingers clenched at her middle as her smile wavered upon his scrutinizing gaze. It should be more than enough.
But she couldn’t lie to Simon, no matter how hard she tried to.
“I…” She glanced away, the furl of her hair shifting with the minute change towards her stance before her softened focus resumed back upon her love. The man who had made everything possible for everyone else. To make the world better, to save them—from her. “What I want…is something I don’t even know is possible.”
Nails dug into the pink dress above her bellybutton, the spot that had been ripped apart by the Antispirals all those years before. Of course she had been restored—she breathed now—but the functions of her form were still questionable. Not to mention the aspect that still harbored itself within her, that Remnant that only maintained its silence by the blessing of the ship they were on. Without it, it was sheer willpower that held back the Messenger.
But she was with Simon, and if anyone could make her wish come true, it would be his soul, his power, his drill that pierced the heavens. Unfurling her fingers, she reached out, the ring glittering upon her digits as she grasped his hands. Calloused from years of work, her soft skin easily formed along every facet of his. “I want to…Someday…” She prefaced, drawing in closer, heels lifting ever so slightly to make up for the distance between them to lay a gentle kiss upon her husband. Perhaps a way to soften the blow of her words.
At least enough before her feet planted back down, her saccharine smile broad and open, as it should have always been around Simon.
“…Would like to begin a family with you. Perhaps even attempt to have children with you.” Her voice was gentle, her cheeks reddening slightly with the connotations and wondered if perhaps her meaning might get lost in the moment. “To form a biological family with you, Simon.” But as if the reiterated words struck a thought, she dipped her head down in small, sheepish giggled.
“But I suppose it would have me turn the question upon you, Simon. If you would want that yourself and for me.”
Yᴏᴜ ᴛᴀᴜɢʜᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴇ cσurαgє ᴏғ ѕ t α r ѕ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴇғᴛ -
ʜᴏᴡ ℓ ι g н t ᴄᴀʀʀɪᴇs ᴏɴ єndlєѕѕlч, ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ.
ᴡɪᴛʜ sʜᴏʀᴛɴᴇss ᴏғ breath, ʏᴏᴜ ᴇxᴘʟᴀɪɴᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ i n f i n i t e;
ʜᴏᴡ rαrє ᴀɴᴅ вєαυᴛιfυℓ, ɪᴛ ɪs ᴛᴏ ᴇᴠᴇɴ e x i s t.
He loved listening to her. On the subject of anything, really. Her lilting voice chimed to the cadence of the eternity of sunrises they were promised by their place aboard the Chouginga. How narrowly they had nearly missed their chance for this.
The wishes and hopes and dreams of those aboard the ship were of imperative importance to Simon. But in his mind, the finer details of those were better left to the dutiful Beastman who guarded and nurtured the reality of a home within the vessel. That obstinate fellow who had worked tirelessly to create just such a perfect world where he and Nia could finally find their paradisaical future - he would promptly collaborate with the Princess to see the list of expectations met and satisfied.
Whereas, Simon had to be (lovingly) bullied into assuming his former title and position as ‘Commander,’ again. (Rossiu had been adamant about ranks - as always.) Yet he was content with his retirement - living simply as a husband to a most cherished bride.
That was why, Nia’s prayers and dreams... were all his to hear.
To understand. And, hopefully, to fulfill.
Nia had been their picture perfect Princess, returning to her found family as though she had never been absent. Her innate grace and kindness filled every corner of the moon-sized Chouginga as though effortless. Though she brought light and sincerity to every individual she communicated with, Simon thought he could perceive just the slightest evidence of a distraction in the edges between her thoughts and her lovely voice.
Are you missing something, Nia?
His thoughts had been curious, even playful, as he prompted her to share her mind with him. And the Digger had almost teased when the charming Princess insisted initially, that she was satisfied with her own little world. ...but her reaction caused him to pause, and stand up in swift concern, from the comfortable bed in their quarters where he had been seated and listening to her.
Simon stepped towards her, his hands coming to rest upon each of her delicate shoulders - worried now, that she might have been facing some terrible dilemma on her own -- without burdening anyone with her worries. The Digger’s expression sobered as he searched her face during her hesitant explanation.
Clarity struck him with full force, as the immensity of her desires occurred to him on several human levels. Admittedly, he was overwhelmed at first. Entangling with his irreplaceable bride always had a place in his thoughts, even when he ought not be distracted. Did she know that, already? But with the intention of creating a family?
Could she ... carry a child?
A child they created? His child? He would be a father...
...they would be parents...
He’d forbid himself from even thinking about family when he’d lost his own parents in that harrowing earthquake. Then Kamina had come bursting into his life, “Call me Aniki!, Call me Aniki.,” he’d said, and at first it had been so merciless upon a young mind that was trying desperately to withstand how profound loneliness was.
Yet, ‘Aniki’... It had become a natural sound on his tongue before he’d known it. The name of someone who always heard him when he spoke. Did Kamina ever know what a refuge, what a treasure his care had been?
...and then, just as unforgettably as he had come, Kamina was gone;
-- in a flurry of blood and incomparable spirit.
‘I don’t get a family. I’ll never love someone again.
I can’t keep them safe. So I don’t deserve anyone.’
Historic pain lowered the glow within his luminous midnight eyes, as he recalled how many times he had punished himself with thoughts like those... as cruel as life could be - he was even better at it.
From the deepest, darkest spaces of his reality, Nia had appeared. And saved him. Her tiny hands, cold still, from her recent slumber, pressed upon his skin.
“If you are afraid, then you should run away.”
She’d said it so easily. The worst thing he could have imagined himself doing. He had so wanted to run. To run from his hurt, his failure, his losses. The emptiness at his back, where Kamina’s hand had been, urging him forward. Without knowing anything, Nia had given him permission to give up on himself. On everything. On everyone. And she did not condemn him. He could run away, if he couldn’t handle the struggle, or the battles, or the pain they brought.
But he knew better. He could endure. That, to him, had felt even worse. To be able to move forward, and carry on in spite of how he lacked, wasn’t it all too loathsome to even imagine?
Nia never seemed to think so. She had always treated him as though all that he did was worthy and natural. He didn’t feel like an anomaly around her. Did he give her that same precious gift? Simon knew that she contained a Remnant of the Anti-Spiral’s touch. Viral had conveyed it to him as gently as possible - and at the time, he had dismissed the Beastman’s awareness as overly protective. Was he wanting to run from that, too? Did she feel estranged from herself, at times? Was it hard for her to imagine being a mother, while she balanced her duality of natures?
How clumsy now, it was that he realized this similarity between them. And how courageous of her, to dream about a family for them, even after all that they had done, and had known.
Did she remember her own mother?
...had he ever even told her about his parents?
Ah, just when he was thinking that he’d made peace with the winding life behind him, even at his chronological age -- there was living that he’d not yet done, it seemed. He would... work on it. These messy feelings, the hesitation, the fears.
If Nia was going to be so brave, and so hopeful to wish for a family in their everlasting home, then he wasn’t about to concede defeat, either! Simon gathered his wife into his arms, pressing dozens of kisses into her nebulous hair. He soothed at her worries, and reassured her as best that he could.
“Kids, eh? Wow, we’re thinking about it, already? You’re absolutely incredible, Nia.
I think... I think we would do okay, yeah? I mean. I’m not... I don’t know if I’ll be... good at it. Parenting. I was basically raised by a mole-pig, you know? Not saying that Boota wasn’t a good role model.”
The Digger teased a bit, at his own expense, as he wrapped Nia within a close, encouraging embrace. Whether either of them, with their peculiar bodies, could create a child naturally, was a concern to be met in time. They would face those challenges together.
At present, he only wanted his bride to feel assured that her dreams were his dreams. And that her sense of family, was certainly to be found with him. He grinned in pure, affectionate mischief, and pressed a slower kiss upon the top of her slender hand, held protectively within his roughened grasp. Simon’s brow nuzzled against his wife’s, as he lowered his voice to query her understanding,
“You won’t think that I’m a bad man if I’m particularly enthusiastic about the preliminary stages of parenthood, right~? ‘Cause I’m gonna be enthusiastic, Nia.”
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