Good News (Oliver)

[Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha]

It really looked like she had won this little banter or at least scored an important point for now, since Oliver simply consented to her joking reprimand and told her he would take the reminder to his heart. As if he ever needed to! Still, Yassia couldn’t help but feel a little smug nevertheless and she was just about to teasingly ask for a reward for her victory, when it was given to her freely. Even after all this time, Oliver could still surprise her, it seemed, as Yassia hadn’t seen that kiss coming. But she savoured it all the more for its unexpectedness and for a moment just enjoyed the wonderful feeling of her lips being captured by his, before she responded to the kiss gently, giving all the love back she felt she was receiving and more. Sometimes she loved him so much that the sheer thought of losing him to whatever twist of fate made her want to scream out with unbearable pain and nearly drove her crazy. It surely couldn’t be healthy to love someone as much as she loved Oliver, but then the firm belief that they hadn’t battled through so much just to be seperated again before time kept her sane and sure. Without that belief, she would probably turn into a horrible person, encaging Oliver to keep him safe and in the process of that, surely losing him. Oliver needed to be free, or else he would wither away like a flower without water. It still amazed Yassia sometimes that he had consented to live a life of considerable restraint with her, compared to what he had grown up to. But then, she guessed, that was another perk of their love.“And I love you!” she confirmed gently but decisively, inhaling his beloved scent and bathing in the feeling of security it made her feel. Now she was in the final terms of her pregnancy, the anxiety that seemed to come with her very own mood changes had gladly died down.

Yassia was glad Oliver did not seem to mind to be let on her little secret just now, and her head darted up in positive surprise as she heard him speaking the Ailanthan tongue. It was not so much THAT he did it, after all he was making quite an effort to learn it quickly and his subjects adored him for it even more, for his efforts to try and become one of them, but it was the accuracy of the accent. Up until his moment, his Mercian accent had been a real problem in trying to get the sentences sound right, since there was probably not two languages more different to pronounce than the one of Albion and that of Ailantha.
“Your accent is remarkable I have to say!” she lauded him with a bright smile, kissing the tip of his nose as a reward. “Have you been studying me?” After all, she used this very same phrase on him at least once a day, so it wouldn’t surprise her all that much, if he had taken her as a rolemodel.

The light nudge Oliver must probably feel against his hand was a much subdued impact of what Yassia feeling when the baby kicked. She jolted a little and bit back a gasp, but she smiled nevertheless. Any sign of the soon-to-be born life inside her was welcome, however much it hurt. And it was just adorable and heartmelting to see Oliver talk to it as if it already could understand him. A flicker of a memory passed Yassia’s mind for a moment, the reminiscence of an incident at their first meeting, when Oliver had talked to her wound, asking it to behave, just like he was now talking with their unborn baby. Who would have thought back then how things had turned out now! Star-crossed lovers they had been, but now their union was certainly star-blessed.
“Yes, that was our little darling!” she confirmed, covering Oliver’s hand on her tummy with her own. “A smart kid, reminding us of our responsibilities already.”

There was really not much more to say to Oliver’s concluding statement, that he was content how things were now and that the past was the past. A past they might often look back on, but which shouldn’t rule them and their actions too much. They had the present, and most importantly an even brighter future ahead of them, with everyone they knew in good health, and soon having a little family to match that of their best friends back in Camelot. So Yassia just nodded sincerely and cupped Oliver’s cheek in her hand for a moment, then she gratefully let herself be helped in standing up. The more the baby grew inside her, the more difficult it became to keep a steady balance, especially when standing up or lowering herself to sit. Instinctively her right arm darted out for balance as she felt herself slumping forward by the additional weight inside her, and she chuckled. “You think by now I should have figured it out, right?”
Still chuckling, she then made her way to the door and, opening it, started down the long corridor to the left, towards the gardens.

[Oliver Strathmore of Mercia]

When had he ever won a game of free bantering over Yassia? If Oliver were to even think about it, Yassia would easily let him win, and he would willing lose for her. Sounds unfair, but you hear no complaints from this one happy man. He'd gladly banter playfully with Yassia anytime, any day, as long as he knows she will forever stay. It may sound crazy, but yes, Oliver would certainly do anything and everything for her. That was how he deeply loved his wife and how thankful he was to be given her. He'd want for nothing more. When Yassia received his kisses and whispered the words back just as sweetly, Oliver could almost feel his heart explode from all the love therein. Cheesy, but yes. How such love was possible, he didn't know. He was just glad to have found one for himself.

“Your accent is remarkable I have to say! Have you been studying me?”

It meant the world to him to hear her praise him for his improving accent. While learning the words of Yassia's language had been easy enough, it was the accent that was tricky. He was just glad that Yassia had been every bit the kind and understanding teacher. "Gràcies. Vaig aprendre dels millors^*," he replied with a cheeky smile, pushing his luck a bit, although he did felt like his accent slipped off again in the last bit. Slowly but surely, Oliver told himself. A few more months or years in Ailantha, and he'd surely learn to speak the language like a native speaker.

He gently massaged the spot on Yassia's tummy where their little baby just kicked. Oliver was every inch the excited and anxious father. He wanted to hold their baby in his arms soon and he also wanted it to be over and done with because he just couldn't help but worry over the actual childbirth, when the time comes. He knew Yassia is strong woman, and she has been through the worst and most trying of times, but still he couldn't help but worry about her and her situation. Childbirth is always the most sensitive (maybe even dangerous) situation for both the mother and baby to be in. "I think our little one is just as happy as we are," he replied with a warm smile.

Gently, he helped Yassia up, catching her arm as she searched for balance and carefully guided her up, before standing after her. He mirrored her chuckle and leaned in to plant a kiss on her temple. "I don't care. As long as you take extra caution wherever you go, I'm good," he remarked as he walked with her towards the door and out to the hallways leading to the gardens, his hand holding Yassia's all this time. He was excited to see her tree. He was worried that it may have been chopped down during her uncle's reign. Yassia had been away for a long while after all. "Did your uncle know about the trees?" He couldn't help but ask as they stepped out into the warm afternoon sunlight.



^*Thanks. I learned from the best.

[Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha]

Hearing him say words in her language, as faulty as they might be sometimes, made Yassia feel a kind of happiness she had never experienced before. She didn’t even know what it exactly was that made her feel so happy about it. But it made her wonder, if her father had felt the same way whenever Rhiannon, Yassia’s mother had spoken the Ailanthan tongue. In her over twenty years of reigning at his side, she had of course managed the language to perfection until her untimely death, even though a tiny accent had still remained. Yassia had no doubt that Oliver would learn it quickly, but she had no intention of letting go of his native tongue altogether. This was the second generation of a joint rulership of both countries, and her people had become used to it. Many mastered the Albion tongue already as well, and showed their skills proudly whenever addressing Oliver. Maybe the next generation would follow in these footsteps? You never knew after all, Yassia hadn’t had planned this outcome of her life, just like her mother had not had. The stars apparently wanted Ailantha and Albion to stay firmly connected.
“M'afalaga!” she chided him softly, but her eyes were gleaming brightly. “Saps que T'estimo, oi? Igual com ho són! ... Never forget that!”¹

Yassia’s eyes were fondly fixated on her swollen belly and Oliver’s hand on it, imagining she could see the little life inside her. How would it look? Would it be anything like her, or like Oliver, or like them both? It was the miracle of life and love, how a child could be the product of both their parents, or take more after one than the other. Yassia personally wouldn’t mind for anything that the stars agreed to give her. This would be Oliver’s and her first child, the very proof and result of their love. It would be loved if only for that reason, and looked after with great care. That little baby inside her didn’t know that yet... or maybe it did, Yassia could only hope so. “How could it not, being able to look forward to having such an amazing and loving father”, she told him fondly. “I hope for its sake, it will be able to appreciate it.” After all, there were children growing up to dislike and never appreciate their parents, but Yassia was convinced this must be the parents’ fault entirely. When a child was raised with love and care, how could it possibly turn away from that?

A few months before, Yassia might have refused his help and insisted on trying on her own, stubborn as she could be, but the heavier she got, the gladder she was for a guiding and securing hand. Soon this would be over and then she could experience a little more physical freedom again – until the next child of course. There was no doubt she wanted more than one! Leaning her head against his shoulder while walking, she deeply inhaled the mild pre-summer air. Since Ailantha lay between mountains, it was never as hot in summer as it would be in other areas of the south, but at least the winters were far milder than in Albion.
”I promise I’ll be good, cross my heart!” she assured him and mimicked the motion usually accompanied with it, only that she didn’t put her hand directly on where the heart would be, but higher, where they both had a scar. It had become a fond little game for them.

They were walking through the gardens now, with a few servants and guards respectfully bowing whenever they passed them by. “Yes he knew, of course he did, his tree grows here as well”, she explained, sighing. “But he would not have dared to touch it. The trees never get cut down, it would be a sacrilege.” Yassia led Oliver through an arcade, overgrown by ivy and vine, and they entered a quaint part of the vast gardens, where a few different trees were growing along a low old and slightly crumbled wall. At the far end of this part there was another arcade leading in what looked like a little forest from afar, but yet Yassia did not intend to direct her steps there. Instead she turned to the right. “There it is”, she whispered, pointing him.


¹ "You flatter me! You know that I love you, right? Just like you are!"