Hello loves! While I haven't been writing, I have been working on updating some issues that have been hanging around on the layout! The Character change box is now at the bottom of the page, beside the up/down arrows! Green and Gold dragon flight dates have been shifted to the bottom of the page, where the (useless!) discord widget was located. Where the dragon flights were in the header, is now replaced by a Monthly Event box! This will be updated at the start of each month, with a fun mini-event you can take part in, if you want to! Thistle!
07.Jul.18, 11:42 AM
“No,” Xyliah whispered, in answer to his question of her certainty. She’d never been pregnant before, so she didn’t know and while she had heard stories from the women in her parent’s household, about how they’d known the moment they got pregnant or how they’d felt different and known ‘something’ was different well. Xyliah didn’t feel any of that. She hadn’t even realised her period was late until Yanzi made a grumbling comment about having her own, and Xyliah realised she hadn’t had hers for… well, she was supposed to have gotten it almost three weeks ago, and she didn’t know of any reason a period would be that late, without it being pregnancy. So that was the conclusion she drew.
“No,” Xyliah echoed again, her voice filled with sorrow and misery, but putting her faith and trust in the man who requested she be honest. He’d never done anything in the weeks she’d known him to make her feel like she couldn’t trust him, and he hadn’t started bouncing off the walls crowing about an heir so she felt a little more secure in voicing her own standing. If he’d been excited, she wasn’t sure she could have told him the truth. Giving him a son, an heir, that was part of the contract of marriage, and she knew it. She also knew that the sooner she got it out of the way, the better for the longevity of their marriage. Politics and the like.
But she wasn’t ready and she didn’t want to go through morning sickness, and stretch marks, and high emotions (PMS was bad enough!) and she didn’t want to get fat and have trouble walking. She didn’t want to go into labour and she was terrified of dying trying to birth a child. That happened! She’d seen it! Well, maybe not in person, but she’d known pregnant women in her parent’s household who went into labour in their bedroom, and never came out on their own. She didn’t want to die! She had barely lived at all!
“I can’t Jal!” she said miserably, starting to panic, her breath coming in wispy little gasps as she clung to him, barely remaining grounded by the warmth and reassurance of his hand rubbing her back and the feel of him down her length and the cat kneading her arm gently, his claws still sheathed.
“No,” Xyliah echoed again, her voice filled with sorrow and misery, but putting her faith and trust in the man who requested she be honest. He’d never done anything in the weeks she’d known him to make her feel like she couldn’t trust him, and he hadn’t started bouncing off the walls crowing about an heir so she felt a little more secure in voicing her own standing. If he’d been excited, she wasn’t sure she could have told him the truth. Giving him a son, an heir, that was part of the contract of marriage, and she knew it. She also knew that the sooner she got it out of the way, the better for the longevity of their marriage. Politics and the like.
But she wasn’t ready and she didn’t want to go through morning sickness, and stretch marks, and high emotions (PMS was bad enough!) and she didn’t want to get fat and have trouble walking. She didn’t want to go into labour and she was terrified of dying trying to birth a child. That happened! She’d seen it! Well, maybe not in person, but she’d known pregnant women in her parent’s household who went into labour in their bedroom, and never came out on their own. She didn’t want to die! She had barely lived at all!
“I can’t Jal!” she said miserably, starting to panic, her breath coming in wispy little gasps as she clung to him, barely remaining grounded by the warmth and reassurance of his hand rubbing her back and the feel of him down her length and the cat kneading her arm gently, his claws still sheathed.
