Rugtaf’s POV
I sat in my office, leaning over my desk as I tried to find solace in my research, the thoughts of reality too disturbing for me to handle at this moment.
Hours went by and the night came but not a speck of eagerness in me to return back home, back to the face our miserable situation.
It had been over two weeks since we were forced to live through that incident yet again. Truly, time seems to slow down when you wish or it to do otherwise.
I hear someone knock on the door of my office and not many around to be knocking at my door at this hour. “Yes?”
The door creaks open and Albert, my personal assistant enters, a young lad only nineteen, whose lineage has been serving our family for the past four generations. “Pardon me Sir, but it has turned fairly dark and I am sure your family awaits your presence back at the manor.” He says so timidly. Poor lad, not sure just how to approach me at such times.
“I am almost done. Why don’t you ready up the carriage while I sort some of this stuff.” and prepare for what is to come.
“By your will, Sir” he says so while bowing and leaves to follow my ‘will’ while I prepare myself for things that await me and what all my next decisions will bring upon me.
.............
“Father, speaking of vacations, I had been thinking I would like to move out of the house for a while. I’ll take Eliona and preferably move northwards to the old house that grandfather used as a hunting lounge back in his days.” I slyly announce my desires while the whole family assembled for dinner. The stroke of events too good to pass on.
The over-sized dining hall filled with the close and distant family members along with the staff serving dinner seemed to quiet down once I announce my plans.
“My son, surely you would reconsider. What do you plan on doing in that backwater town?” He enquires, worried like every father who loved his child would.
“Cousin, think about your wi-“ “I am well aware of the situation regarding me and my wife, and I have made this decision while keeping it in mind. As much as she needs a family to support her at such times, I believe some time away from this stressful environment will do give her some much needed fresh air.” I interject before letting anyone else make any more suggestions.
“Very well” spreads a low yet heavy voice, as of bored of watching over us little children.
“It seems you have made up your mind. Son, you couldn’t stop him from working in the kitchen, I suggest you don’t bother stopping him now as well for you would only be wasting your time.”
“Thank you for your permission, Sir!” I reply back swiftly, ignoring the insult. It had become a joke among the rivals of our house, that the house of Rajblades had put down their swords and armour and replaced them with aprons and kitchen knives. I know very well of what troubles my profession brings to the socio-political front for my family.
It was only just that I at least bear these insults without hesitation.
Now all that was left was to bring Eliona out of her room and convince her to go with me.
“Oh, and there would be no need for any of the maids to move with us.” Yes, this way it would be just the way we first met.
-x-x-x-
Eliona’s POV
Why!? Why!? Why did it have to be my child once again!?
The thought has never left me since the miscarriage... a couple of days ago. I am not even sure how long ago it was as I have stayed holed up in my room... To hell with what others think!
I have given numerous prayers to Ilithia! I have even visited her many temples and continued to do so even after the first miscarriage.
Yet, once again I had to experience this horrible fate. Have I been lacking in my devotion? Have I done something wrong or am I simply cursed to remain childless?
I am no stranger to the rumours that rise with such events. Some calling women like me a bad omen who will spread her curse to others, some joking about how Gods are just to let us aristocrats and nobility experience such pains.
Some commenting on the potency of my husband and other worse accusations. People may act like they care about you when in your presence but their vile nature sooner or later comes to light.
“Love...” I hear the faint voice of dear as I turn to look at him standing beside the door. I had failed to hear him come while being lost in my own thoughts. I have failed him in many ways.
He carries onto sit at the edge of the bed and runs his fingers through my hair. We sit there in silence neither of us knowing what to say. Does he too blame? Huh, it would only be right. I have failed us both.
Rugtaf had never been someone who lets his emotions rule him in desperate times.
The slumped shoulders and the lost look he carries these days are the only indicator that he too is affected by the situation, if not more, for the nobles have always stressed about heirs.
“Eliona... I had been thinking... let’s go away from here for a while.” He announces out of the blue.
“Dear, what do you mean? I don’t think I would like to travel anytime soon... Please forgive me.” What is he thinking? How could he be thinking of travelling at times like these!? Does he really not care?
“Hear me out. I have already talked things over with others and I believe it would do us good to stay away from the city life. We can move to a nearby town that we own a house in, just you and me, like how it used to be. You do remember, right?”
Of course, I remember, you oaf. It has been over nine years since I first met Rugtaf. Young and wild, we met through common friends who shared our interests. It was rare to see a noble pursue anything other than combat-related or diplomatic occupations. He was one such noble.
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Our common likes and aims quickly led us to become friends and honestly, for a girl from a middle-class family who earned their livelihood through the income earned by a family store, this encounter smelled of a profitable deal.
We were soon travelling around with either strangers or friends, always with some of his guards around, gathering up experience in our professions and having an adventure.
Somewhere along the path I just knew this person was it for me. Honestly, I too wanted a strong warrior or Prince to become my future husband but the long journey turned the young wild girl into a woman, one who was sure she had found her Prince.
His declaration of our love had been strongly opposed by his side of the family and caused fear in minds of mine but Rugtaf never was one to back down easily and we ended up marrying with only my side of the family present.
We had to move to an outland town since he did not wish to bring any more trouble for his house.
Our skills in our profession were high enough to make easy money and so for two years, we lived in our own happy little bubble. A couple too much in love with each other and eager to share some with the ones who would join eventually.
-x-x-x-
It was three years into the marriage that the first miscarriage took place.
I still remember every detail of that very moment when I held my dead girl in my arms, begging all divines to hear me, help me, to take me and let my child live, to bless this one with a miracle. But no one replied and no miracle came.
The townspeople shunned us, particularly me, most quick to turn superstitious.
I remember how Rugtaf would try to encourage me, joke around, saying we just needed to work harder at nights. He truly never was one to properly show his emotions, sometimes making me think that the incident hardly even bothered him.
Eventually, his family got the wind of our misfortune, some truly pitied us and others spoke for the devil, asking dear to find someone better, someone more likely to succeed at giving birth, ones who did make Rugtaf properly show them his fury and disagreement.
Whether it was love or pity, I still don’t know, but his house came knocking to our little home, asking for us to stay with them soon after.
-x-x-x-
It has been another three years since then. Three gruelling years spent visiting temples, hoping for a blessing from the divines, filling the arms of priests with donations, being preached by friends and family on what can help with successful pregnancy.
It seems everyone has a sure-work formula to have a successful childbirth, some even knew just what to do if you wanted a specific gender.
Everyone had their hopes up when I had my second pregnancy, even dear’s family, and all looking forward to getting credit for their sage advice.
The moment came, repeating the painful history once again, and those seeking credits turned on us faster than an enraged mother Gobbette. Bickering about how there was no hope for us.
The old used books of insults and curses were picked back up, dusted and opened. Almost everyone knew just what we may have done wrong.
-×-×-×-
Nine days of travelling. That’s the time it takes to travel from home to this settlement up north, a town by the standards of those who live and fight the monsters, a village by those who live within the walled cities of kingdoms, the town of Doon.
The house that was large enough to house a... family had once been used as a hunter’s cabin by Rugtaf’s grandfather.
Even though we had declared our intention to stay here by ourselves it seems someone has already been paid to clean up the house and do minor repairs.
Only a few if any recognised us because of our last name differed from that of the main family name. A sacrifice Dear had to make to gain the right over his own destiny.
-x-x-x-
Rugtaf’s POV
It has been little over a year since we moved to Doon. Other than occasional visits from an elder cousin sister of mine no one else had bothered to meet us here.
I had easily found myself job as a chef in the restaurants run inside the guild houses and later proceeded to rent my own bakery cum restaurant.
It wasn't easy to make Eliona agree on not taking any work. Thankfully, the yard was big enough for her to practice her herbalism and gardening.
I need her to relax and enjoy some time by just ourselves, to watch her welcome me home when I come back from work and maybe one day go back to being the happy couple we used to be.
Also, I hope the night fun times return soon.
-x-x-x-
Eliona’s POV
It’s happening again! I am pregnant once more. Over five months already. Each day I live in constant fear of what this child’s fate be, reliving the times I had my children in my arms, cold and unbreathing.
How can the Gods be so cruel!?
Rugtaf refuses to leave my side most of the day and when he does I have to spend my time under the supervision of Ester, an elder sister to that hormonal bastard.
He just had to keep doing it inside. I can’t help but let my frustration turn into rage since it is clearly his fault! Doesn’t matter that I let it happen! Doesn’t matter what anyone says!
We are sitting having tea in the yard as Ester recounts the many adventures she had been to as a medic or healer for parties.
She seems like a nice person. Always supporting and helping me win arguments with hubby. We just never had enough time or privacy to meet back in the city.
Speaking of the yard, this place can use some shade.
Maybe five trees around the fence would be good. One for each of us. You like that, my sweet child?
-x-x-x-
“Mammy...” Addy calls to me while tugging on my clothes as I sit in the yard, looking at the young trees. “Mammy... table” he motions for me to pick him up, asking to be put down at the table so that he can look around better.
The boy had been all sort of mysteries... Some whose answers I fear.
I still remember how he would roll around wailing as he held his head in his tiny hands. Each cry invoking the worst of nightmares in my thoughts. I no longer had the strength to live on if this one had been taken from me as well, not now when I had finally been allowed to call myself a mother. To make it worse no medic in town has been able to tell us what the issue is, a bunch of useless tricksters.
All I could do was cradle him in my arms and try to distract him either by joking around or playing joker or Breastfeeding him.
Hehehe... He always seems reluctant to touch them but once he gets started the expression of complete bliss could be easily seen on in his cute chubby face.
Little devil was even able to make Rugtaf let loose and truly express himself on his birth. Though he clearly didn’t like knowing that his night fun was going to take a break since Addy would sleep in our bed.
He even quit working in the restaurant and went back to his scholar self, just to spend more time at home with Adrian.
The way he tries to teach him words and sometimes explain recipes as if talking to a fellow colleague makes me almost fall down with laughter. It gets better when Addy listens to him as if he is actually paying attention and understanding. Things that would make other adults cry out in frustration.
He did always cry when left alone in his crib, even when we moved it to our room, but never on the nights that he slept with us in our bed. Truly a strange kid.
From the stories and complaints I hear from other parents, one thing has been made clear to me. He made raising a child seem easy. Never complained about what was fed to him or what questionable clothing I may have made him wear or about his toys, though for that he never played with any except carry the Gobball toy in his arms.
Honestly, I am not sure whether I should be glad or disappointed.
I mean, the only thing that required our constant care was changing his clothes when he did his business in them and oh boy, did he do it a lot. Now even that is no longer an issue as he simply lets me know whenever he needs to use the toilet.
He is such a perfect kid... if not for that Bitch Margaret spreading those false rumours I could have already got him a potential wife. After all, the girls from small towns are far better than the pretentious whores in the cities.
It’s hard to believe a year is almost up since he came into our lives.
Fufu ... the thought of growing old as a mother is making my eyes tear up. Maybe we can try for a Fourth. I think we can fit another tree in here.