Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

BEFORE

With practiced ease, you spun your upper body to avoid contact with Saul’s kick. Hunching low, you swung your leg across the cold ground, hitting Saul hard against his feet, causing him to fall onto his back. Before he got the chance to recover, you were on top of him and in a swirl of movement you trapped him beneath you. Only at his fist pounding the floor, you relented. Andreas let out a low whistle, leaving Saul thoroughly displeased. Stepping off the training mat, your eyes met Farah’s, who gave a nod of approval, an amused twinkle in her eye. 

“Quite the demonstration out there.” Farah said sometime later as you entered the changing rooms. 

Unzipping your jacket, you let out a small chuckle, “I don’t think Saul found it very funny.”

“Saul always underestimates you.” Farah said as she walked closer, her arms circling your waist. She placed a soft kiss on your lips, and you hummed. Her kisses had a way of drawing you in, affecting you in a way no other ever could. Gazing into her warm hazel eyes for a moment you realised you could happily get lost there. Sometimes it scared you that you felt this way around her. As though nothing but she mattered in this world. Turning around, you were momentarily struck by the sensation of the very earth beneath your feet shifting. It caused you to reach out and grip Farah’s arm to prevent tumbling to the floor, “Darling, are you alright?” she asked, looking concerned. Taking a moment to respond, you said, “I think I’m going to be sick.” At that you ran across the room to the bathroom just in time and threw up. Straightening, you let out a deep sigh. Strange, you thought, it had been such a long time since you had pushed yourself this hard during training. Farah was there as you rose to your feet, softly whispering your name and gently stroking your back in comfort. She didn’t say anything else, but she fixed you with an intent look. You knew thoughts were spinning behind those eyes, as though the solution to Otherworld peace lay at the tip of her tongue. You squeezed her arm reassuringly as you passed, “I’m fine.” 

It turned out, you were not fine. Every day that passed came with renewed waves of nausea and sickness. Spells of it overcame you during the strangest times, never a pattern. Farah grew increasingly concerned, unable to persuade you to seek out Ben for advice. You convinced yourself it was an aggressive stomach virus, hoping it would pass within the next few days. It had not escaped Headmistress Rosalind’s notice either. During training, your movements were sluggish, and you were quick to defeat. She barked out your name, beckoning you to her, “I see you’re ill.” She said, crossing her arms disapprovingly. You opened your mouth to speak, but she cut you off, “I’m benching you.” 

“But-” you started to protest.

Rosalind’s eyes snapped to yours, and you fell silent, “Go back to your quarters.” She said with such finality that you couldn’t hope to argue. 

Your head hanging low, you did as you were told. This felt ridiculous, especially so close to Rosalind’s plan unfolding. Burned ones riddled the country sides, and specialists struggled to keep up. More soldiers were killed every day, marring the green hills with crimson. You, alongside Farah, Saul, Andreas, and Ben had been recruited to be a part of a specialist team equipped to tackle burned ones with magic and sword. If you were completely honest with yourself, there were times you didn’t agree with Rosalind’s methods. Sometimes you saw alternative approaches to her preferred brute force, but you didn’t dare voice it. As a soldier and her employee, you didn’t consider it your place. Under different circumstances perhaps you would have, if she considered you her equal. Rosalind had a way of holding herself in higher regards, the very air around her seemed thick with tension. Not even Saul or Farah had uttered their disagreements. At this point she seemed to be the only one getting any results, and no one was too keen to jeopardise that. 

As you made your way home you abruptly took a sharp turn out on the grounds towards the greenhouse and Ben, now more determined to find out what was causing your bouts of illness. Entering the hot air of the greenhouse, you found Ben as you so very often did; hunched low over a work bench, studying the leaves of a delicate flower which lay before him. At the sound of your footsteps, he looked up, “Oh, hello.” He greeted in mild surprise, “What brings you here? Aren’t you supposed to be out training?” 

You shrugged, “I am. It’s actually why I’m here.” You paused, suddenly feeling slightly awkward. Ben was your friend, had been for years, and for some reason it felt rather odd to come to him with personal issues of this nature. 

He placed the pincers held in his hand down on the bench, “Oh?” he asked with a questioning look, “What’s going on?” 

You sat down in a nearby chair, letting out a sigh, “I’m not entirely sure. I’ve been sick every day now for the last week.” Meeting his eyes, you were unsure how to explain it further, “Vomited a lot, that is.” You let out a nervous laugh. 

He moved closer now, fixing his concentration on you, “Nauseous too, then I imagine?” at your nod he continued, “Anything in particular that triggers you, do you think?” 

You took a moment to consider, the time in the changing rooms there had been a strong odour of coconut as you opened your locker. A few days ago, Farah had made an egg sandwich. Puzzled, you looked up at him, “Yes, actually. Come to think of it.” 

“Hm.” Ben seemed to ponder, before seemingly arguing with himself. He turned away to rummage through a cupboard at the back of the room, emerging with a thin glass vial containing a green leaf. Pulling up a chair in front of you, he gingerly removed the leaf with gentle fingers. Reaching over the work bench, he quickly found what he was looking for, “Your finger, please.” He said as he returned to face you.

“My- what?” 

He held out his hand, “Your finger.” Now more confused than before, you offered it to him. With a small prick, he pierced a thin needle through your skin, a tiny drop of blood emerged. Turning your hand, he smeared the blood onto leaf. 

You looked at him in bewilderment, “Ben? What on earth?” he had gone completely quiet and still, as he always did when excited about something. 

“Oh, right.” He said, carefully placing the leaf onto his work bench, “this is a leaf off the tree of life.” His eyes gleamed with excitement, and you could not fathom why. 

“If introduced to the blood of new life, it will cause a reaction…” he looked down at it expectantly, lying innocently before him. As if on cue, the vibrant colour green faded from the tiny leaf, growing purple, blue, then orange, before rising into the air and evaporating in a spark of gold. “Remarkable.” He muttered.

“Ben!” you raised your voice in exasperation, “What does it mean?”

“New life!” he said excitedly, gesturing towards you.

You snorted, “Ben, now is not the time for jokes.” 

“It’s… not.” He said then, growing more serious as he sat down. 

You started catching on, somewhere in the back of your mind it made sense. But how? It couldn’t be possible, “Say the words.” 

He seemed to hesitate for a moment, before giving a timid smile, “You’re pregnant.” 

Dread, as cold as ice, filled your insides and the earth spun again, “Ben…” you warned as you felt yourself slipping away. His response was swift, and he caught your arm before you slid off your chair. A moment later, he had you placed on one of the stretchers, ignoring your protests. Your mind was spinning, pregnant? How would that even happen? You looked up at Ben, feeling slightly embarrassed, “I don’t understand…” and a thought struck you like a bolt of lightening, “I didn’t cheat on Farah.” You said, fixing him with a firm gaze. 

He sighed, “I don’t think you did.” 

“Then, how?” you were utterly astonished.

Again, the question seemed to weigh on him, and he took a moment to consider, “It has happened before. Just not in a very long time.” 

“How long?” you asked carefully.

“I’ve only read about it.” As he said it, he winced slightly, afraid to add to your worry.

A myriad of questions built inside you, and you didn’t know where to start. Before you could open your mouth to speak however, he patted your hand gently, “It’ll be alright. I’ll monitor your progress like I would any expectant mother.” 

You let out a groan, expectant mother, you thought, fantastic.

A loud bang behind you ripped you from your thoughts and you heard a voice call out your name. It was Farah. How could you begin to explain? 

As she entered the room, Ben smiled softly, “I’ll give you some privacy.” 

“Wait a second, please.” You said, unsure of where to start.

Farah sat down on the chair next to the bed as you sat up and swung your legs down at the side of the it. “Are you alright, my love?” her question was so soft, piercing your chest with comfort. 

Nodding, you spoke, “I’ve asked Ben to stay for a moment to help me explain.” 

Farah looked more concerned by the second, and you realised there was nothing for it, “I’m pregnant, Farah.” 

For several moments she was stunned into silence. You turned slightly towards Ben giving him a pleading look, who seemed to catch on, “The child is yours.” He said, smiling, “A part of the both of you.” 

At that, Farah reached out and gripped your hands. Ben took it as his cue, and silently left the room, leaving the two of you in complete silence. 

You hung your head, shaking it from side to side, “I don’t know… how…” you started, feeling overwhelmed. Tears trickled down your cheeks, this had not been how you had imagined this year to unfold. You were at war; how could you ever bring a child into the equation? Soft fingers touched your chin, gently tipping your face upwards. When you met Farah’s gaze you were surprised to see that she was smiling. It made you cry even harder. She pulled you towards her in a fierce embrace, holding you tightly against her, “It’s not what we planned or could ever imagine. But permit yourself to; a child, our child.” As she pulled away from you, she smiled widely, happiness radiating of her like rays of the sun. 

You let out a shaky laugh through your tears, “We’ll be ok.” You nodded.

Farah leaned closer to rest her forehead against yours, “I love you.” She murmured.

“Too much, it seems.” You laughed, letting the reality set in. You were surprised to find that the overwhelming worry you’d felt moments ago had lifted somewhat, replaced by joy, affected by Farah’s infectious smile. 

-

Weeks passed, and Rosalind had suspended you from your duties. Though disappointed, you couldn’t argue. The specialist trade was not the place for you anymore. You had not retreated entirely however, still determined to contribute to the cause. You spent increasing hours at Ben’s side, assisting him in his research. While you were happy to know that you could still contribute, you missed the practical aspect. You’d always excelled in combat, considered yourself skilled in the art of it. Every time the thought crept in the back of your mind, you managed to focus on the reason to why you stepped back. Your hand slid down the side of your stomach, the growing swell apparent. Straightening in your chair, your eyes travelled across the walls of the library, where you’d situated yourself in a secluded section as not to be disturbed while working. You shifted, crossing your legs, and immediately wished you hadn’t. During the last week you’d discovered that nausea and vomiting were not the only side effects to pregnancy. Burning desire bloomed within you as swiftly as drawing breath. You let your head fall into your hands in exasperation. Though you knew it was a common side effect, you hadn’t voiced it to Farah. For some reason, you found you were slightly embarrassed. Completely irrational, you knew, for the two of you had a very healthy and gratifying sex life. It was precisely that which had landed you in your current situation. In the past however, you’d never quite crossed that line within the halls of Alfea. You’d both been content with the separation of business and pleasure, being ever professional in each other’s presence at work. Perhaps it was time to change that, for there was no ignoring the heat that crept inside your body, lighting sparks of desire. 

As you walked through the corridors, there was no sign of Farah. She could be anywhere, perhaps out on the grounds training or teaching a class. You sighed, resigning yourself to feeling uncomfortable for the remainder of the day. Turning a corner, you jerked your head up at the sound of a very familiar voice. Heat rose in your body, making you shiver. Farah stood at the end of the hallway, chatting to a student. Out of her uniform, she wore a pale pink blouse and dark slacks, her hands in her pockets. You smiled as you approached, waiting for a pause in their conversation, “Ms. Dowling,” you said, with all the professionalism you could muster, “May I borrow you for a minute?” 

“Certainly.” She said before turning to the student, “Any additional questions you may have, bring them to our next class. Perhaps we can have a discussion.” The young student agreed before hurrying off into the corridor. 

Farah turned to you expectantly, but you merely muttered, “Come with me”. Without turning to see whether she followed, you set off into the corridor. If Farah was confused, she didn’t say. Your eyes fell upon a door around the corner, and with a quick glace in each direction you grabbed her hand and pulled her inside. The small room was dimly lit by a small window at the top of the wall, casting rays of daylight upon you. Glancing around, you realised you’d taken Farah to a broom cupboard. It’ll have to do, you thought. Reaching around Farah, you turned the lock. Farah was completely silent, but slight concern furrowed her brows. Without pretence you pressed her against the door taking her hand. You guided it into your trousers and beneath your underwear. As her fingers touched aching flesh, she let out a surprised, “Oh.” 

“Please.” You all but gasped. 

Farah did not need to be asked twice, she crashed her lips into yours, letting out a soft moan as your tongue met hers. She tasted faintly of earl grey. You let the desire take you, felt it build within you like kindling fire. Farah did not tease, she gave exactly what you needed, understood what you wanted. Her free hand found its way beneath your shirt, traveling up the bare skin of your waist. Expertly, she swept her thumb over your nipple, the gentle touch set you on fire. With her other hand, she increased her efforts, allowing you closer and closer to the edge. She pulled her lips away from yours to gaze into your eyes, “It’s alright.” She whispered, “I’ve got you.” 

Holding onto her shoulders, you let yourself fall. You let out gasps of air as rapture overtook you, dimly aware of Farah’s kisses on your cheek, side of your mouth and jaw. She didn’t cease her movements until your body stilled, growing heavy in her arms. When the air cleared, you were surprised to see your feet firmly planted on the ground, half expecting you’d be on your knees. Farah kissed your lips affectionately before extracting herself from you and reached into the depths of her pocket for a handkerchief, wiping her hands. “We haven’t done that before.” She said, a smile playing on her lips, “Very enjoyable, I might to add.” 

Catching your breath, you let out a chuckle, “Sorry for ambushing you.” A flush rose in your cheeks, “It’s another side effect, erm, increased desire.” You said, not quite meeting her gaze. 

“And since when have you experienced this?” she asked as she pulled you to her once more. 

You let yourself lean into her, “A few days.” You said nonchalantly. 

“Well, all I can say is that I wish you’d come to me sooner.”

Taking a lose strand of hair that had escaped her intricate braided bun and tucking it behind her ear, you kissed her softly, “I will.”

You parted, and she let her hand travel over the swell of your stomach as she turned, “Perhaps next time you can let me know immediately.” She smiled as she unlocked the door, “See you later.” She said softly before stepping out into the corridor, leaving you leaning against the door, catching your breath.