Far Longer Then Forever

[Alistair]

She was right about the random, but wrong too. It wasn't that she had the money but she was the only one who would bother. Vaughn didn't part with coin, and would take too much amusement out of everything to bother (though Alistair liked to think Vaughn would at least come give him hand to get out of something). There was they faery, but finding her would be imposable, if that body guard even let her do it. No, she was the only one with the will.

She wanted to know more about his life before her? He thought back to the years and tried to think of what she would want to know. There was not much there. A job here, or there; Vaughn talked allot and he avoided people until he came back to fight for his mother's people. That could wrap up his hole life. "Any certain area of it?" He asked, wondering if she wanted to know about the places or the people or the jobs.

He knew she liked it when he once talked about the places. She wanted to see things and he always tried to make sure she could see places if they could. If he could manage to get Sir Garrett willing, he could try to get them to take a longer way home and let her see some more of something besides woods.

[isadora]

Isadora often made him talk to her about his past, because it was his past that made him the man he was, the man she loved. She knew that he hadn't had an...ideal upbringing. His parents were good people, or so he had thought, but he'd lost them both in such a harsh way, and his uncle had been...somewhat different from them. Although not so bad as to abandon his young nephew to the world entirely. And somehow, he'd come to be 'friends' of some sort with the most deplorable man she'd ever met.

"There must be something that happened to you in the thirty-odd years before you met me that stands out." She knew the most important bits, but she always wanted to know more. She always had been curious about everything. "I just think I deserve to know more about the man who would be the father of my children." She smiled, hinting at the truth and wondering if he would get it right away. Even if he didn't, she was going to tell him tonight; it felt like the right place, and the right time, and he was even in a good mood. Tonight was the night.

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[Alistair]

His lips twitched up at the words of children but he did not understand her meaning. He knew full well that until she wed him in the laws of her people then children would be a risk to her place in power. He knew the risks that would come with it, and knew they would have to act quickly in order to protect her. Still, the idea of children, something of his blood and a straight unbreakable tie to him was something he wanted very much.

He was however unsure as to what to tel her anytime she asked. His past was just that and he often was unsure what she wanted to know if it. He had spent years alone or with Vaughn; someone he knew she wanted to hear nothing of. "With my people I am called a Drabarno, one who sees. My mother had such a gift too. She did many good things before she died." Murdered by the bastard former king. "One thing that weighted heavy on me during my years with my uncle and travels alone was knowing how far I was from her."

In actions, rather then space. "She was the reason I came back." The reason he started a war against Camelot; so no more mothers died and left sons without them. He could see in his mind the knights dragging her back and his father rushing up them them to help her. It angered him that it happened and no one thought 'this is wrong'.

[isadora]

One of the things he would open up to her about was his mother; he always spoke of her with such fondness, it was part of why Isadora felt sure he would be a good father. He had nothing but good things to say about either of his parents, but perhaps that was only because he was so young when they died, he had yet to see the darker part that they didn't show their children. She only had good memories of her mother, too, except for those of the wasting.

"Will your children have your...gift, too?" She asked, wonderingly. It had never occurred to her before that her children might have magic. She'd known they'd be the children of a druid, but the fact that Alistair didn't actually practice the arts often allowed her to forget that it wasn't just a lifestyle choice; it was in his blood. It would be in his children's as well, and that meant it would be in hers. The thought made her...uncomfortable, to say the least. Alistair's gift only seemed to give him nightmares, even though he was able to save lives. Did she really want her child to see such things, to see death and violence when she would otherwise have shielded them from it?

"What was her name?" She asked, realizing that for all the times Alistair had told her of his mother, she'd never learned the woman's name. She was curious...for more than one reason.

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[Alistair]

Would his children? He sobered greatly at the thought and was unsure how to answer with out giving her cause to worry. "I have no answer for you." He admitted, "I never knew my Puridaia;" his mother's mother. "I do not know if she had my mother's gift." He called it a gift with more of an ironic tone whenever he said the word. It was a curse to the barer and a gift only to the lives that were spared from it. "There are things to be given should it happen; to ease the burden." If you had the coin or knew the right people you could get something to ward off the dreams. He had never used such, for it was not until he had returned to Camelot and built a name for his self that he knew the right people.

And he never had enough coin when he needed such a item.

Now having such would be a risk, and not one he was sure they could take while magic was so hated. Her next question caught him off guard for a moment, and he tried to think if he had never spoken her name. "Her name was Sura. She was a Rani among my village. It is like the title of lady with your nobles. But one you earn and are not born with. She saved many."

[isadora]

She blinked at the unfamiliar word; she didn't know Alistair's language, other than what he had previously explained to her. "Puridaia?" She repeated, saying the word as a question so he knew she didn't understand. Maybe she should try to learn some of his language...at least enough so that she didn't have to hold up the conversation every time he said something she didn't quite understand. "Do you think you could...teach me your language? At least some of it." She asked, she didn't know if he would be willing. She wasn't one of them; would he want her to know their language?

He mentioned things that would ease the burden.... "But you don't have such a thing?" She asked; if he did, he'd never mentioned it before now, and since he still had nightmares often, she felt certain that it wasn't working correctly anyways. If they had a child with that gift, she'd want to find them something to help with the dreams. She didn't want her child to live in fear of whatever nightmares or visions were lurking in their sleeping hours. She was surprised to hear that his people earned their titles; they were closer to the world Arthur was trying to build than she had thought. Arthur wanted a land where those with nobles hearts could be noble, and that was what the druids had. It didn't make sense for them to be at war.

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[Alistair]

He'd forgotten about that, that she would not understand the druid words he used. He spoke and thought in mostly her language since he had spend more time in her world but he had traveled to many places and had learned words of the other places too. "My mother's mother." He explained, "I will teach you anything you wish to learn, Princess; you only need to ask." He had noticed she seemed hesitant to ask, and he didn't want her to feel like she needed to be.

There were half breeds in his world, yes; but no one held it over you unless they just wanted to insult you. Rilan had done it when he had her at the small village; wanting to push him into reacting. For the most part, if you married into them they would welcome you too their world. You didn't leave easily however. "No, it takes coin to buy such a thing. I never had enough. You have to know someone who---"

Oh she wasn't going to like this. He knew it and reached up to run his hands though he longer hair while trying to find the words to soften what he needed to say. He lacked the flowery or softer words that would help him now. "--You have to know someone who practices magic and is a knowledgeable enough or strong enough to make such a thing. When I grew close enough to my mother's people to know such people I did not want." He wanted to know if something came for her; and he would not risk her now by wearing something or keeping something in his room. If there was a child however, he would find a way to take the risk with out harm coming to either of them.

[isadora]

He explained the word, and Isadora nodded; she'd have to remember that. "And your father? He was a druid too?" She asked, she'd never been sure of that. He was raised by his father's brother, but from what he'd told her of the man, he didn't resemble the peaceful druids Alistair was so keen on protecting. But she supposed that just because most of his people were peaceful didn't mean they all had to be, so maybe his uncle was just one more who had decided to go against the groove.

If coin was all it took to buy something to help their child --or even him-- to sleep without nightmares, then it wouldn't be a problem. Isadora was a princess, with an entire kingdom's coin at her disposal. She didn't approve of spending that coin irresponsibly, but for her child's welfare it would be money well spent. But when he stopped midsentence, she saw the look in his eye, and immediately he had her undivided attention. He was giving her that look like he was about to say something he knew she wasn't going to like, and her expression soured automatically.

And he was right, she didn't like it. So they'd have to use magic to prevent magic from negatively impacting her child's life; and worse yet, they'd have to find someone who could make such a thing for them. But she found it puzzling that he didn't want one now. "You have coin now, and you know the right people. Why don't you want such a thing anymore?" She wanted to know why he would still put himself through the sleepless nights and nightmares when he could afford it.

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[Alistair]

"No, he was a farmer." Alistair did not know how his parents came to be but he knew that this father was not a druid. He could guess, but never know for sure. Which made him only half Druid, and the child less then that. Surely any child would have a less chance of getting his gift with the blood of others mixing in more and more. "When they married it was not dangerous to be a Druid. It wasn't for many years." He'd been twelve when everything ended.

Her other question however was something he could answer. "My mother never did, she embraced her gift and I used to wonder why." Now he knew. When you had something to loose, you wanted to know how to stop it. "You can't stop what you don't know is coming." You could not save someone if you did not get a warning first. He was not going to loose her. When a child enter their lives he would have more to be on the watch for. He'd lost everything once; and he'd be damned if he was going to loose it again.

[isadora]

A farmer. Somehow, Isadora couldn't picture Alistair as a simple farmer, although maybe if things had been different...no. She couldn't even imagine it. If he were just a farmer, they never would have met, and she didn't want to know what her life would be like without him. It might be easier...but she didn't want her life to be easier if it meant giving him up. That might be selfish of her, but she didn't care. She wanted Alistair in her life, whether he was a druid or a farmer or something else entirely.

She frowned at his answer. Isadora knew that his visions could be helpful, they could even save lives. Maybe it was a good thing to see the future before it happened...but maybe it was more of a curse than a blessing. Isadora never could decide where she stood on the subject of his 'gift'. Magic still made her...uneasy. She wasn't completely certain that he should be able to see the future, that it wasn't an affront to God as she'd always learned it was. If there was a plan for everything, was interfering with that fate wrong? They all had their destinies, and if someone were supposed to die, it should be in God's hands. But then she'd be dead. Or, Alistair's visions could be a part of the divine plan too, and then he was supposed to save those people. He was supposed to save her. It was easier to think of it that way, like she wasn't really damning her soul by supporting him.

"Alistair...we're going to have a baby." She didn't want to beat around the bush any longer, literally or figuratively. She looked up at him hopefully, and bit her lip. She thought he'd be happy...she hoped he'd be happy, but there was always just a little bit of uncertainty when it came to guessing what he was thinking.

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[Alistair]

He could see her thinking and wondered what it was about. His past? His father? Or why he would not wear anything to stop his dreams. She looked up at him and spoke and at first he did not comprehend. He thought she was speaking of one day; or the idea of it. That she might continue and say that she fear for the baby with his dreams. However she looked up at him as if trying to judge what hide hind his impassive face. However he could tell by her tone and by how she looked at him that she was not speaking of one day; or dreams; wishes; or even fears.

She meant soon.

Alistair grew very still. Unmoving at he stared down blankly at her for a few very long moments. He was--she was going--

His eyes moved lower from her face to look toward her middle as he tried to take in her words. In his mind he was trying to think everything at once but there was a sharp hum of blankness. Later he would think of everything they had just spoken about. About the dreams and the troubles and the fears. For now he only knew that his bloodline was in her; and the child even now grew. He'd spoken of children and knew that one day they would come but to have one now; to know it was coming was more then he could have ever asked for. It made everything real and seem upon them in this moment. He did not even care she had chosen to tell him while buried in the middle of the home of the men who had murdered his family.

He was going have a child! A child that held her blood mixed with his! Something to carry own when time caught up with him! The euphoria and the burden hit him all at once and it had taken him many moments to even more. When he was able his eyes moved back to her and his face took on a smile. Not one of his past grins, or casual twitches of lips but a bright and wide smile. He didn't care if he looked the fool in this moment. It was a child!

He saw it now; every sign he missed. She had gained weight but he had not cared; her hand at times rested on her middle but he'd assumed it was for one reason or another; she had been hungry and at times sick and she'd hand nightmare and she had been more curious about his parents and heritage---nightmares. Oh blood effing hell.

His smile faded and his hands came up to rest on her hips. His child. His gift. His blood. A druid in a house of nobles. Pulling her closer he wrapped his arms around her and buried his head into the top of her head. He didn't know what to say or even to express the joy he was feeling. Even knowing that their would be hardships and hard decisions before them he still felt the pure joy of a child. In a deep but pleased voice he mutter the words of his people into her hair knowing she would not understand but she would. He would help one day. Not tonight; for tonight they would have other things to say. "Monisha, I do not know the words to tell you what this means to me." Monisha being Druid for wife or wife to be. The woman you held highest in your life.

[isadora]

The moments dragged on to feel like an eternity as she waited for his reaction. How did he always manage to keep his face so blank? She started to worry, the longer she had to wait for him to say something, anything. What if he didn't want a child? They'd spoken of it before...and he'd never seemed adverse to the idea. But she knew how things could change from when you were thinking about a thing and when that thing became a reality. But he couldn't balk at this...not now! She needed him, and the longer he stood there in silence, his eyes moving from her face down to her belly, the more Isadora started to panic.

She felt as though she balanced on the edge of a cliff during the long moments while he processed what she'd just told him, but she dared not say anything more. Her hopeful expression had faded by now, her expression vulnerable, almost fearful, as her hopes diminished and her fears told her that he didn't share her happiness about their child. Instinctively, she wrapped both her arms around her abdomen, as though to shield her as yet unborn child from whatever impact its father's words would have.

But Alistair didn't say anything. She didn't know why she expected he would. He lifted his eyes back up to hers, and instead of the rejection she'd been so sure was coming, he smiled, and her fears vanished like shadows in the dawn light. Isadora had never seen him smile this way before, so free and full of joy, and she knew she'd been fretting for nothing. Of course he still wanted her, and their child. He loved her...them. She smiled to match his, tears welling up in her eyes as she gazed up at him. He pulled her closer, and for the moment she forgot where they were, and that she ought to care who might be watching them.

She nuzzled his chest affectionately as her wrapped his arms around her, untangling her own arms from their protective hold to rest on his shoulders. She closed her eyes, and still smiling, her tears fell onto his neatly polished armor. "I think I understand what you mean." She answered, he was never really one for words anyway, but in this instance, Isadora was certain she knew exactly what he was feeling without the words.

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[Alistair]

She knew what he meant with his lack of words but she couldn't know how he felt. He had lost everything as a child and she had just given him the world back. He's watched his family be ripped from each other and slaughtered at the order of some man who would not even bother to learn names and faces. She had just told him that he would have a family again. That he would not travel though life alone. He'd told her once that lovers and family waited int he stars for each other. He had always wondered if his mother and his father were a star looking down at him.

Now he knew that there would be something worth waiting for when he died. He loved his princess, she was his world; but a child with his blood and his line. Something tangible and real. Something besides words that would bid them together. He knew it would be a while but he wanted more then anything to hold the child now. He shot a look around before stepping back from her and dropping to his haunches to become eye level with where his child was with in her. He reached a hand out to put his large palm on her belly. It covered almost the whole thing for she was smaller then he. After a moment he let go of her belly and moved his forehead to rest there. He could not see everything in his future, but he would trade his soul for a sight of this.

Looking up at her, he knew he should at least try to say something. "Monisha, I can not even think words. I've wanted this for so long." His blood mixed with hers. A claim on a bit of her that no other man could deny. A child of his blood.

A child that could be her heir. He didn't miss that should this child be a son, they could hold the power to end the war on the druids as well. He knew she would do everything she could, but it was a game of thrones and power for her and her people. His child--his son should it be so--no one would question his claim to rule. He could bring peace, and carry out the changes she would start.

[isadora]

Isadora watched him adoringly as he got down, smiling and giving a slight laugh when he stared at her belly as though trying to see through her skin, to see the baby within her. She thought it was kind of silly, but sweet nonetheless. She hadn't changed enough yet that others had noticed anything different about her, but she had to wonder if Alistair had, or if he did now that he knew for sure. He hadn't acted suspicious, but she had trouble telling what he was thinking all the time. His face had all the inflection of a stone wall...except for right now, she couldn't help but notice, beaming herself.

He put his hand on her belly, and she almost hoped he would feel something there...before she realized that their baby was still far too small to cause any kind of noticeable movement. But she wanted him to have a solid connection to the baby, like the one that she had. She could...feel her baby, somehow, and she loved it already. She wanted to know that he had something like that, even if it couldn't be exactly the same. And when he looked up at her, she knew that he did. She put one hand on his face, but couldn't keep her tears from falling. She couldn't seem to help it; she'd been so worried, and now she was so happy, her own emotions had just overcome her.

"You keep calling me that. What does it mean?" She'd been meaning to ask for some time now, but it never seemed to be the right time. Maybe now wasn't the best time, but she was curious. He didn't use words of his own language very often, and since he had promised to teach her if she wished to learn earlier, she felt comfortable asking about this. She wanted to know what he was calling her, and besides, she needed something to take her mind off this moment in particular, so that she could stop crying and collect herself before someone came along and caught the two of them, him kneeling before her and her crying her face off.

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[Alistair]

Alistair did not care if they were caught. She had his child with in her, and time was against them now. They had a limited amount of time to make everything look legal by her laws, and in order to keep her name free of the gossips. Let someone see them now; their hands were already forced.

He stood up when he noticed her eyes were wet. He had heard other men talk (because everyone in her world talked about everything) how their women cried when sad and when happy and when worried and when tired. He had never joined the talking but had been glad his woman was stronger then theirs had seemed to be.

He reached up to put his large hands on either side of her small face and wipe the wetness away with his thumbs. "Monisha." He repeated when she asked what that meant, "Wife. Or wife to be sometimes." To his mind she was his; and he was her's. She was his wife in all the ways that mattered to him. However, he knew her world was different and in her mind he was not her husband. "A man calls the woman in his life this, as a way to mark her as the highest in his life. No other will be higher." More important. It was a title given to a wife or woman whom has the other half of the man.

If she wished to learn, he would teach. Removing one hand from her face, he touched his chest, "Rom. Opposite of Monisha." Then his hand dropped down to her belly. "Daia. Mother."

[isadora]

Isadora didn't like breaking down like this. She was supposed to be stronger than this; she was supposed to be able to rule an entire kingdom, how could she do that if she was dissolving into tears all the time? What if one of her subjects saw her like this? It was bad enough Alistair always seemed to be there when she cried --for he was usually the reason she was crying-- she didn't want people to talk. To spread rumors about things they shouldn't know, things that could weaken her rule.

But if she thought about how she shouldn't cry too much, it would only make her cry more. So she focused on Alistair instead, letting the foreign words play over in her head. She smiled when he told her what he'd been calling her; she knew that was how he saw her. Well, at least that was better than having him call her 'his woman' all the time, she supposed. She liked the idea that she would always be first in his life, and his heart. She listened to the other words he said, memorizing them.

She liked his language. Maybe that was only because the only words she knew so far were ones she liked to hear so much, especially coming from him. "Rom?" She repeated, looking at him, and then smiled when he put his hand back on her belly. She put her hand over his. "And what's the word for father?" She asked, forgetting her tears as she enthusiastically picked up the foreign words.

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[Alistair]

"Dadro," He told her when she asked what the word for father was. He noticed that her eyes were not leaking tears any longer; and he wondered why changed her. He didn't know for sure why she cried nor why she stopped but she did not look unhappy so for now he would let things go and not press the matter. There was one other thing he knew he would have to press however.

Another word to teach her, one that would open up everything they needed to speak of. "Drabarno," He paused to give her time to either think the word or repeat the word if she wished. It was one however that he knew she might need to know. He had known of her nightmares but until she told him of the child he had not thought anything of them other then how they frightened her. Now he knew what they were. Knew the fear she felt and the evil she saw. "Seer." It was what his mother was. It was what he was by blood; and what his child clearly was.

[isadora]

Isadora smiled after he told her the word for father, she wondered if their children would call him that, and she supposed that they would. She might have asked him more, but he offered another word before she had the chance. Why did that one sound familiar...had he said it before? Then he explained the meaning, and her brow knit together with worry. Seer. Magic. Magic that their baby might possess. Magic that would come with headaches, nightmares and visions that no child ought to be subjected to. She bit her lip uncomfortably; this wasn't something she wanted to go into. But she knew they had to.

"So...will our baby be a...drabarno, too?" She asked after a long moment, looking away from him to avoid giving away what she was thinking. She wished they didn't have to worry about this. Like so many other things, she kept thinking that it would be so much better if he really were the noble he was pretending to be. And then she felt bad for thinking that, because she knew how he felt about his people, and she didn't want to take that away from him. But she couldn't help but think about it, no matter how guilty she felt afterwards.

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[Alistair]

He didn't know if every child in the bloodline would have this; or if it was only the eldest or the unlucky. He didn't know how the magic skipped this one and that one to settle into someone's soul. It wasn't something he could explain; or predict. He wasn't even completely sure this child would be like him. He only knew that she'd been having frightening night terrors. That she'd jerked awake almost violently every time; shooting up as if she was so afraid. Every time he'd either already been awake from his own dream or would jump thinking something was wrong.

He ran his hand though his hair, not sure how to answer her. He didn't want her frightened, but he wondered if she knew what she was seeing at night. Was it dreams of the past evils she'd been forced to see when he failed to get to her sooner? Or was it something to come? "Tell me about your nightmares." He asked her instead, in a deep and low voice to make sure it did not carry.

[isadora]

Isadora looked up at him when he finally asked about the nightmares she'd been having lately, and she froze for a moment in silent panic. She'd never even considered that she might be having visions of the future; just atrociously bad dreams. But if he was right...if he nightmares were visions...then she was terrified for her child. The things she'd seen were so awful, she didn't want a child exposed to that! Even if it did make sense why she was dreaming about people she had never met, and why the dreams were so vivid they seemed real. She'd never considered that they could be.

After a moment of considering, she swallowed the lump forming in her throat, meeting his gaze with anxious eyes. "I keep dreaming about a man dying..." even to her own ears, that sounded far too much like his own visions than she was comfortable with. "A smith, someone I've never seen before. It's always the same, and it seems so real. Like I'm really in the marketplace, but I know I'm not there." But that hadn't happened. She knew it hadn't, because after the first time she'd had the dream, she kept checking on things to make sure there weren't any disastrous deaths. But then...it kept recurring. Alistair often dreamed of the same thing many times before it happened, didn't he? Her expression was almost fearful as she looked up at him, hoping that he'd tell her it was just another dream.

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