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ikeromantic · 2 years

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On Being a Father, pt 2

This is a sequel to On Being a Father where Nokto discovers he is going to be a dad. Now that he's accepted becoming a father, he must deal with the legacy of being a twin. Drama/light angst/fluff. Approx. 4300 words (sorry it's a long one!) TW: Pregnancy, complications, family trauma

Nokto couldn’t breathe. The air in the room felt thick, hot and unmanageable. Belle and the doctor were talking but he couldn’t hear them. His ears were full of a rushing sound.

“Are you ok?” His wife, the former Belle, reached for his hand.

“Yes.” The word came out strained. He focused on the doctor. “Just . . . twins? Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. Your lady wife has twins.” His expression was solemn, concerned. “You will need to make sure she takes plenty of rest and eats properly until she comes to term.” The doctor paused, studying Nokto’s face. “Your wife must stay relaxed and rested. Any distress could cause a miscarriage or worse. I hope I am clear?”

“Of course.” Nokto gave the doctor a thin smile. “I will keep her wrapped in pillowed satin.”

The doctor left, leaving the couple alone with their thoughts. While Nokto had dealt already with his misgivings about fatherhood, that was when he believed he would have just one child. The word twins set a lead weight in his heart. He’d passed on the curse.

The former Belle was studying him in that way she had that seemed to see right past your skin and into your soul. “Talk to me,” she said gently. “I can tell you’re not happy.”

“I’m not not happy?” He tugged a lock of her hair gently and then sighed when she didn’t smile back at him. “I told you what it was like for Licht and I growing up. It wasn’t just our mo- our mother that thought being twins was our misfortune.”

She nodded and scooted over to snuggle into his shoulder. “I know. I just don’t care what other people think. These are our children. They are miracles, and if there are twins that only makes it twice as wonderful.”

Nokto’s eyes widened. Sometimes she still surprised him with her simple but determined statements. He knew she meant every word, and though it changed nothing, he felt a little calmer. Some of the numbness receded.

He settled a hand on the rise of her swollen belly. Though he knew it was impossible, he could almost sense the two tiny heartbeats. Nokto swallowed, his emotions suddenly overwhelming him. His heart galloped in his chest, from fear, from love, from feelings he had no name for yet. Then, something pressed against his hand.

“They kicked!” Belle gave a startled laugh.

But it wasn’t a kick, Nokto thought. Nothing so abrupt. It was almost like the babies - his children - reached out to him. He shifted to press his cheek there, and closed his eyes. Not because he was about to cry, of course. Not him. He just . . . wanted to rest.

The Belle’s cool, soft fingers combed his hair back from his face.

The next few days passed peacefully enough. Nokto was busy with trade delegations to Jade and Benitoite, and Belle spent most of her time in bed or propped up on the couch in their room. Rio attended her while Nokto was busy, and left when the prince returned from his duties.

For Nokto, it felt as if the drama had passed. He was still worried about what kind of life his children would have - how he would handle the whispers and gossip. It still felt overwhelming. But he promised himself he would do better than his mother or the king. He would be the father his twins deserved.

And then it happened.

A slip on the garden path. Barely enough of a fall to do more than scrape the Belle’s knees, yet enough to send the doctors scrambling. Nokto hurried to her side, his heart spiked with ice at the thought of losing her and the babies. He held her hand for hours as her body was wracked by contractions.

There was no missing the whispers of the doctor and the midwives. The Belle might lose her babies. One or both. Even her life. They needed to sedate her. They needed to stop the contractions.

Nokto listened, nodded, his thoughts slow and gelled together. His heartbeat felt too fast and his body too slow. “Do whatever it takes to save her,” he told them.

Her nails dug into his skin as the doctor gave her an injection. A sedative to relax the contracting muscles.

“She has a fever. Possibly an infection. Her body is weak from the pregnancy already.” The doctor frowned at Belle as she drifted into a drugged sleep. “Make sure she stays in bed, even when the medicine wears off. I’ll be staying in the palace for the remainder of her pregnancy, so send for me if anything happens.”

“I will.” Nokto stroked her flushed cheek and did not look up.

Rio came in the second the doctor was gone. His blue gaze was damp with tears. He knelt beside the bed, wordless.

For once, Nokto didn’t mind him being there. He knew Rio loved his wife, perhaps as much as he did. And in this moment, they could share their fear and grief. The prince reached out with his free hand and patted the blonde’s shoulder.

When Belle woke, the contractions did not return but she was burning up with fever, delirious. She looked up at Nokto. “I knew. Like the book said. The shining stone. And my foot. I saw. Here the sky. And - and-”

“Shhhh, love. Shhhh. It’s ok. I’ve got you.” Nokto motioned for a cold cloth and Rio pressed it into his hand. He gently cooled her face with the cloth, trying to get her to calm down.

“I - I’ll fetch the doctor,” Rio said, and hurried out.

The doctor came in alone, with medicine for Belle and an order for Nokto to get her to eat something. “A light bone broth or a watery paste of beans. It will help her body fight off this infection. If the fever doesn’t break soon, I am worried we will lose her.” He left the prince with a vial of powdered herbs to treat the fever.

“I’m not going to lose you,” Nokto told her. He wasn’t sure if she understood. She was still whispering about a shining stone and how she was sorry, sorry, sorry. The prince hugged her to him. In his arms, she felt like a burning branch. Hot and dry and brittle.

Fear shot through him, stopping his breath. His heart stuttered in his chest. Was it even possible for her to live through this or was the doctor only giving him false hope? “You can’t leave me,” he whispered. “Not now. Not like this.”

The Belle clung to him weakly, but he could feel her love in that touch. It strengthened him and chased the despair from his thoughts. He drew a deep breath.

“We are going to get you - you and the babies - better. I promise.” He gently settled her back into the sheets.

A short time later, one of the servants left a tray of hot and cold soups, creams, gruels, and jellies for the Belle to try. Nokto picked what he thought she might like best, an oat gruel sweetened with a bit of berry jam. It smelled good and he knew how much she liked sweet things, especially since becoming pregnant.

“Time to eat, lover girl,” he smiled. But when he tried to give her the first spoonful, she turned her head away. “Oh come on, aren’t you a little hungry?” He tried again but she wouldn’t open her mouth. “Look, it’s really good,” he told her, getting a little desperate.

Nokto spooned the cold, thin gruel into his own mouth, choking a little at the cloying sweetness. It tasted as if someone had upended a bucket of honey over rotted strawberries. He grabbed the water glass and took a long drink to clear the taste.

“Ok. I can see why you might not want that one.” He sighed. “The doctor says you need to eat though.” He eyed the remaining dishes. “Maybe I can pick the one that’s the least awful, hm?” He picked up a spoon. “See? I’m sacrificing myself to make sure you get the best.”

In his mind’s eye, she laughed and swatted his arm playfully. For just a heartbeat, he missed her in a way he didn’t have words for. She was still right there, of course. Lying in the bed, hot with fever, but absent from him in her dazed state. Nokto swallowed down the grief and reminded himself he would have that woman back. She would return when the sickness left.

He sampled several of the dishes, but there was something off in each. A flavor obscured by the spices, salt, or sugar that reminded him of rot. He was trying to place a vague memory of that taste when his stomach rebelled. He ran to the restroom and vomited into a chamber pot. Everything he had tasted or drunk that day.

Nokto felt as if his insides were on fire, and even after he was empty, he continued to heave for several minutes more. When he finally stopped, he sat down. His pulse was racing and his breath was thready. He tried to stand but a wave of dizziness sat him back down, hard.

“Poison.” Rio’s voice came from the doorway.

The prince turned his head to look at him. “Was thinking the same thing,” he rasped.

Rio’s expression was cold and distant. “I found oil on the paving stones in the garden. It was mostly gone, but there was enough that I could see it.” At Nokto’s confused expression, he elaborated. “The Belle’s fall wasn’t an accident. Someone ensured she would slip.”

“And combined with the poisoned food . . .” Nokto felt a surge of anger so hot that his vision went black.

“Someone is trying to kill Belle,” Rio confirmed. “One of your enemies. Perhaps a jilted lover?” His tone was sharp, accusatory.

Nokto managed to get to his feet, swaying slightly. “If you have something you want to say to me, then say it.” His lips curved in a thin, hard smile. All that anger he felt had an immediate target, and he was ready.

Rio studied his expression for a moment, and then lowered his head. “No. Just . . . we need to find out who is targeting her. We have to stop them. That’s more important than anything else.”

The rage drained from Nokto’s heart like wine from a punctured barrel. He felt hollowed out and afraid - not for himself, but for his wife and the children he hadn’t yet met. Worse, Rio was probably right. It was likely personal. Nokto had more enemies than he could count.

“Let’s worry about motive later,” the prince said tiredly. “Who has access to the food? Who could put oil on the garden walkway without being noticed - and who would know when and where the Belle was going to be? That’s how we’ll find our assassin.”

Rio nodded slowly, thinking. “I can have a chat with the gardeners.” The gleam in his eyes made Nokto a little worried but if one of the palace gardeners knew something or was responsible, well . . . he didn’t doubt Rio would make them regret it.

“I believe I’ll have a word with the kitchen staff. I was most disappointed in lunch.” He paused. “But first, can you fetch Licht?”

It didn’t take long for his twin to arrive, looking grumpy and more than a little confused. His expression turned grim as Rio and Nokto explained the situation. The flat stare he directed toward his brother said more than words could.

“We should tell the other princes,” Licht said. “They can help. And we don’t know yet if this was targeted or if all the royals are in danger.”

“True,” Nokto conceded. “I’ll tell Sariel, just in case. But . . .” He didn’t want to say it aloud. The dark suspicion in his heart. But he didn’t have to. His twin read it in his gaze.

Licht rested a hand on his arm lightly. “None of them would hurt her. Not even if it served their interest. And I am here.”

They stood like that, connected through that gentle touch, for several breaths. Nokto let his brother’s words ease the fear in his chest. “Thanks.” Nokto pulled away. “Keep her safe for me, Licht.”

His twin nodded solemnly and went to sit by her bed.

Sariel wasn’t hard to find. He was in his office, half buried with reports and paperwork. All the documentation and communication of the kingdom seemed to find its way to his desk eventually. The councilor looked up as Nokto came in and raised a brow.

“Trust me, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t need to be.” Nokto crossed his arms and leaned against the wall beside the door. “I just thought you’d want to know we have an assassin in the palace.”

“Oh, is that all?” Sariel looked back down at his papers.

“Is that . . .” Nokto’s hands dropped to his sides, balling into fists. “They tried to kill the Belle! Twice!”

“Mmm. Hmm.”

The prince swallowed. “Are you going to tell me you knew someone was after her?” He took a step forward, and though he was not a man inclined to physical violence, he was feeling inclined right then.

Sariel glanced up. “There are always assassins. If you must know, the palace guard foiled two attempts on Yves last week, one on Jin, and another against Clavis. My only surprise is that they didn’t strike at the Belle sooner.”

“And what are you doing about it?”

“Collecting information to make informed and incisive actions. Now, do you need something from me or no?”

Seething, Nokto forced his hands to relax. Sariel was right, of course, but this was important. He quickly explained the two attempts they knew of and asked who would know the kitchen staff schedule, or which employees were newer.

Sariel gave him what he needed and waved him away with that devilish grin of his.

The kitchens were bustling. Servants and chefs moved between ovens, stoves, and prep tables. A veritable army of cooks and their helpers. Nokto danced through the milieu until he reached the head chef. She was a large woman, solid and wide with a round face and a wide, warm smile.

At the moment, she was trying to convince Yves of something. The young prince was not smiling, and her expression looked a little strained. Nokto caught something about using a month’s supply of cocoa, and the strange, sudden appearance of baked goods.

Yves spotted him and broke away from the chef. “Ah, look at that! Nokto! What are you doing in here?”

“Not getting lectured about my baking habits?”

Yves frowned. “Well, it wasn’t a lecture really. Just a request to let the staff know when I use up the last - or most of - something.” He coughed. “Anyhow, I did ask you a question?” His natural arrogance made the comment a command.

Nokto shrugged as if what he had to say was of little import. “Someone tried to poison my wife today. They got me instead, and I’m a bit unhappy about it.”

Yves looked shocked. “Why would anyone want to hurt the Belle?”

“I’m less worried about the why than the who.” Nokto turned his fierce red gaze on the head chef. “I need the names of every person that cooked for her and the maids tasked with taking it to our room.”

The head chef swallowed, nervous now. “Of course Highness. The two cooks tasked with those meals are still here. I’ll bring them to you.” She twisted her apron in her hands. “The maid though, she’ll be about the palace. I don’t supervise maids.”

“Then I guess we’ll start with those two and I’ll get to the maid later,” Nokto replied.

“I’ll go find the maid while you talk to the cooks. If that’s alright?” Yves’ arrogance deflated a little under the other prince’s scrutiny.

“Yes. That will be a help. Find her and bring her here.”

Yves gave a grateful nod, and hurried out.

The cooks were near tears when the chef brought them over. It was clear the chef already told them something of what Nokto wanted. The two young men fell to their knees, practically babbling as they explained how careful they were in making food for the Belle.

Nokto listened with only half an ear. He could tell from the first stumbling apologies that neither of these cooks could be responsible. They were horrified at the idea and terrified they might be blamed, but nothing in their words, expressions, or body language gave voice to any guilt.

He cut them off after a few minutes. “Enough. Thank you. I understand now. You can go back to your duties.”

The two cooks thanked him and practically ran back to their work stations, glancing back to be sure they were in the clear.

“Do you think it’s the maid, then, Highness?” The chef asked Nokto without meeting his eyes.

“I suppose it must be,” he murmured, more to himself than to her. Nokto shook himself from his thoughts and offered her an insouciant grin. It felt odd on his face, but the chef relaxed a fraction. “Thank you for your help. I owe you a favor now.”

The chef looked stricken. “No! Highness, we are just doing our job. I am only glad it wasn’t one of my staff that dared try to harm you and yours.”

Nokto shrugged, adjusting his coat where it hung from his shoulders. “You shouldn’t dismiss a favor from a prince so lightly.” He turned to leave, ready to search out Yves and the maid.

The kitchen staff watched him go. He could feel their eyes on his back, wary now that word was getting around about his visit. Nokto ignored them. He didn’t want their sympathy or suspicion.

He found Yves on his way back toward the kitchen, a sobbing maid in tow. “She didn’t do it,” Yves said before Nokto could speak.

The maid nodded, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. She was a pretty thing, even with her tear-stained face. The kind of maid Nokto might have flirted with, before he’d found love. He didn’t remember ever speaking with her before though.

“But she knows who did,” Yves nudged the maid forward. “Tell Prince Nokto what you told me.”

She sniffled. “I . . . I was taking the cart to your room. A-and this older gentleman stopped me. He-he said he wanted to surprise his grandson.”

“I see.” Nokto frowned, anger surging in him. “So you let some stranger take a cart of food to a member of the royal family without asking any questions. Are you really so foolish?”

The maid looked stricken. “I - I’m new and he was - he was clearly a noble. And . . . he looked a lot like you, Prince Nokto. I just assumed . . .”

Yves looked troubled. “Could it be someone related to - Nokto! Where are you going?”

“I need to talk to my twin,” he called back over his shoulder. After so many years, it seemed his mother’s family had returned to the capital.

The door to his suite was open. No guards stood in the hallway. No servants worked nearby. Nokto felt his chest constrict with sudden worry. He ran the rest of the way down the corridor and slammed to a stop at the threshold.

There was a stranger in his room. A tall man with silky platinum hair caught up in a tight braid. He had wide shoulders and a fine coat. His back was to the door so Nokto couldn’t see his face, but he didn’t need to.

Licht stood between the stranger and the Belle, his sword drawn. He caught sight of his twin, but said nothing. He kept his ruby-eyed gaze on the man.

“Licht, put the blade down. I don’t want to hurt you. You were always the good one.” The man reached out toward Licht.

“Leave now, grandfather. Before I -”

“Grandpa!” Nokto put on a falsely cheery voice.

The man turned with a grimace. “You.”

“Awww, grandpa, don’t be like that! I heard you came by to surprise me. Nothing would surprise me more than seeing you smile. Or hearing a kind word.”

His grandfather snorted. “I didn’t come to bandy words with you. Had your mother listened to me, you wouldn’t have drawn your first breath.”

“Then what did you come for?” Nokto held his grandfather’s attention as Licht moved closer behind him.

“To make sure you don’t shame our family again. To stop you passing on our curse.” He gestured to the Belle savagely, his body shaking with anger. “Did you think we wouldn’t know of your spawn? That we wouldn’t hear? Did you think I would let your mother’s mistake perpetuate itself?” Spittle flew as he spoke faster, his tone a low growl.

Nokto’s skin prickled with anger and guilt. Some part of him felt like his grandfather was right. He should have died. He shouldn’t have found love. He couldn’t have a family. All of his mother’s cruel words boiled in his heart.

“Shut up.” Licht spat. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Their grandfather turned to face Licht again. His eyes darted between his other grandson and the Belle. “Why would you defend him? He is useless. A joke at best. Nokto has never been as strong as you, my boy. You could still redeem this situation.” He pointed toward the Belle.

Licht and Nokto both looked at her, their crimson eyes alight with affection. And her eyes fluttered open to meet their gaze. Then her focus slid to their grandfather.

“How sad,” she said softly. “How sad you are. I could hear your bitter words, slipping into my dream.” She pushed herself up a bit on unsteady arms. “It’s no wonder your daughter went mad. With you whispering poison in her ear all her life.” She took a breath. “I wonder . . . where your hate . . . comes from? Did you - have a twin too?”

Nokto was so pleased to see her awake, the fever broken, that it took a moment for her words to sink in.

Their grandfather looked stricken. His mouth twisted with some inner agony as his whole body tensed. Then his shoulders fell. “I did,” he whispered. “And I killed him.” He looked up, his eyes hot with anger and haunted by regrets. “I had to. For the family. And now look what has happened . . . my daughter dead, our family exiled from court, practically penniless . . .”

“Nokto and Licht caused none of that. It was all you and your cruel belief.” Belle laid a hand on her swollen belly, hidden by the sheets of her bed. “My children are not ill omens. They will be precious. As you and your brother were. As Licht and Nokto are.”

“You - you little fool. Wait until you lose everything!” He took a step toward the bed, but Licht held him at bay with the point of his blade.

Nokto heard motion in the corridor. There were people coming. Several of them. Armored people. Curious. But he had a feeling he knew why. The prince smirked. “So you admit to killing your own brother, trying to kill me, and now also trying to harm my lady wife and our children?”

His grandfather nodded. “I did. And I will try again. I will end your bloodline and clear the stain on our -”

“There he is. Take him into custody.” Sariel’s whip-thin form stood in the doorway as armed guards filed in past him. Rio stood behind the counselor, looking somewhat satisfied with himself.

Their grandfather looked confused as the guards tied his hands and led him out. Confused and still seething. “This is a mistake,” he shouted, but no one was listening.

Rio rushed to the Belle’s side, his wide blue eyes searching her figure to make sure she was alright.

Licht slid his sword into the scabbard. “I am going back to my room.”

“Thank you.” Nokto held a hand out to his brother.

“Don’t say thank you. Not to me.” Licht’s eyes were hot as coals, burning with emotion despite his wooden expression. He paused and glanced back at the Belle and then he left.

Sariel sighed. “Well I hope that’s the end of that. Everything is fine in here then? No one hurt?” He didn’t wait for an answer, just looked around and nodded. “Excellent. I will be interviewing you three later for details on these events.”

“Pfft. I can tell how much you care,” Nokto snapped.

“Of course.” Sariel smiled thinly and then left.

Rio barely noticed. He was too busy cooing over the Belle and making her foolish promises.

Nokto cleared his throat and the blonde looked up with a guilty expression.

“Sorry,” the blonde mumbled. “I’ll . . . just go fetch some tea.”

When they were alone, Nokto finally approached the bed. He knelt beside it and rested his head against her arm. “I am . . . so sorry,” he said softly, his voice breaking. “This is - it’s all my fault. I really am a - a curse.”

“If you say that again, I am going to hit you.”

“What?” He looked up.

Belle stroked a finger down his cheek gently. “I mean it. I love you. None of this is your fault. It is all hatefulness and superstition from your mother’s family. So don’t you dare try to take the blame.”

Nokto laughed softly and ignored the dampness in his eyes. “You are incredible. Did you know that?”

“No. Now get over here and kiss me. After all of that, I need a kiss. And some strawberries. And pickled vegetables. And maybe buttered noodles.”

“I’m afraid not.” He leaned up and kissed the tip of her nose. “I can give you some kisses and gruel. Doctor’s orders.”

“Oh come on! Nokto! I don’t want gruel!” She poked his shoulder, her lips pressed into a pout. “Please?”

He smiled. “I’ll sweeten the deal with even more kisses.” Nokto lightly kissed her cheeks, her neck, the line of her collarbone.

She giggled and wriggled under his light touches. “Ok, ok! I give up. Gruel it is. And a bath?”

“A sponge bath.” Nokto waggled his eyebrows suggestively and they both broke into laughter. He was glad they could still laugh, after everything. He still wasn't sure if he had the makings of a good father, but he knew he wanted to try.

Tagging @fun-ghoul-neela @lixin428 @ludivineikewolf @kisara-16 since you asked for a part 2 ^_^

#ikemen prince #ikeprince nokto #ikeprince licht #ikeprince rio #pregnancy fic #fanfiction #fanfic #otome #otome guys #fluff #drama #light angst

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