#sathia

Her feet are swollen, and her cheeks are puffy. She feels like her arms look huge in sleeveless dresses and like sausages in the ones with sleeves. Her pregnancy is almost nine months along. According to the witch midwife, she could give birth somewhere between nine and ten months. Some days when she looks in the mirror, she feels gorgeous, like a woman from an ancient painting, brimming with life and vitality. And each outfit only accentuates her and her pregnancy.

But other days, like today…

Staying inside and hiding under the covers sounds fine.

“You’ve been talking about this musical for months,” Tharion says, walking over to the bed, “I think you screamed in an octave previously unknown when you heard it was going on tour with the original cast.”

“You could take Ithan,” Sathia suggests, hunkering down over the pillow. She thinks it probably makes her look like a toad.

“Oh, like he’s going to sit still and watch an entire musical,” Tharion muses. He sits on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his hands. “And I don’t want to go without you. Especially when I’d have to babysit the pup.”

“I don’t want you to miss it. You really like that one song.”

“Sath.” Tharion squeezes her ankle, and she pulls it closer, out of his grasp. “Babe, I’m not going with Ithan.”

“Then try Hunt. He could use some cultural experiences. Or Bryce. She’d like the dancing.” Sathia had been looking forward to all of the different styles that they included in this show. She might have been listening to the show on repeat for the past three weeks. “Declan enjoys musicals, and Lidia does, too, now. Ruhn would go, he actually sort of likes them.”

“Sathia, daisy, garden pixie, love of my life and anything that’s beyond...”

She groans at the pet names even if they start to lift her spirits just a smidge. Can’t she wallow in self pity without him trying his best to make her feel better? She hides her face in the pillow. “I’ll get you a taxi.”

Tharion sighs. She feels him crawl across the bed to her. Before she knows what’s happening, he’s stolen the pillow and laid her out on the soft duvet that she insisted they had to have. He cages her in the best way, a hand and arm on either side of her head as he looks down at her, eyebrows raised. “If you don’t want to go, I’m staying here with you. But what’s going on?”

Sathia finds herself affecting the bratty aloof look she used to wear all the time, before Tharion and before she was freed from her parents’ expectations and noble fae society. “I am simply requesting that you attend the theater without me in hopes that the price of our tickets doesn’t go to waste and that your evening might not be ruined.”

Tharion gives her a crooked smile. “Oh, princess. You’ll have to do better than that.” He drops to his side and loops an arm over her, carefully moving her so that she’s pressed against his chest. She starts to scoot away but he puts his hand on her stomach, right where the baby has been kicking all day. He runs his thumb over the bump, loving and half-amazed by their daughter, as always.

Her eyes burn. “I don’t feel like going anywhere.”

“Not even to watch Carthin Yeloa dance and sing his little minotaur heart out?” Tharion teases, knowing that Carthin would be her hall pass if she ever cared about such things. She doesn’t. She only wants Tharion but how can he want her when she feels like a bloated manatee? Sathia sniffs. Tharion presses up on an elbow. He brushes away a tear that escapes. “Talk to me, Sath.”

“I’m hideous.”

He automatically looks offended, like she insulted him instead of herself. Or wait, he was offended for her, even if she was the one trash talking herself. Cute… “Take that back.”

“No, I am today,” she says, trying to hold in the sniffles. “Bryce looked so pretty pregnant and Lidia too, and I’m a giant manatee.”

“You aren’t at all, but if you were, manatees are adorable.”

“That’s not helping!” Sathia says, a sob breaking through.

Tharion sits up and strokes her hair, her unruly hair that won’t do what she wants it to anymore. “I’m sorry. That came out wrong.” He starts to kiss her and she turns her face away, pressing it into the pillow again, squishing her nose.

“You called me a sea cow.”

“That’s not what—” Tharion stops himself. He puts a hand on her back. “You’re absolutely beautiful, Sath. You’re glowing!”

“I don’t feel like it.”

“Well, you are,” he says. He grabs the pillow and starts to tug at it, pulling it carefully away from her, but she follows it. He winds up pulling her until she sitting up again, her face blotchy and tear streaked. He steals a kiss this time, quick, before she can turn away. He catches her face between his giant hands and gently squishes her face, making her lips poke out. Letting go, he takes both of her hands in his. “Every day, you’re prettier than the last, which seems crazy because you were a vision the first day I saw you.”

She scoffs even as her heart warms.

“And I’m sorry this pregnancy is hard on you.” He moves their hands so they’re pressed against her stomach. “If we were sea horses, I could carry the baby. I’m sorry I’m not a sea horse.”

He says it with such earnestness, she smiles through her tears. “I don’t want you to be a sea horse.”

“We’d both be sea horses in this scenario.”

“Ah, that does make more sense.”

They share a smile. Tharion brings her hands up and kisses her knuckles. “You’re gorgeous, every day. And I’ll do better about telling you that.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I’m going to be over the top about it, so don’t get too emotional over it.”

Sathia laughs and smacks his chest, the tears clearing.

He catches her hand again. “If you still don’t want to go to the musical or just don't feel like it, that’s okay. But I don’t want you to miss it.” His smile turns mischievous. “Do both Dec and Marc like musicals?”

“No, just Declan…”

“Eh, Dec might have to invite someone else then, but I’m calling in a favor.”

"Dec owes you a favor? Not the other way around?"

"You'd be surprised..."