Dr. Zhivago
Franka
It was time.
Weeks I had waited to get on with things—as Noc would say, close the book on my old life and start the first chapter on the new—and it was finally time.
But now that it was, I didn’t want it to be time.
This was, I knew, because I was standing at the window of my bedroom looking down at Kristian’s and my sleighs being packed. Ahead of them, more sleighs were being readied to take Finnie and Frey, Cora and Tor, Circe and Lahn…and Noc to Sudvic to start Noc’s adventure.
We would be parted for months.
I did not want that.
Anything could happen in months. Months was a long time.
He could find a young beautiful maiden in Hawkvale, fall in love, decide to stay in this world. Or he could wish her to live in his own and bring her back with him.
Or he could think on me and wonder why he was so kind and friendly, supportive and caring, teasing and sweet, and use the time to grow distant so that when we met again, I had none of him at all.
A knock came at the door and I was so deep in my thoughts, I jumped and turned to it, mouth opening to call to the person beyond to enter.
My mouth shut and tightened, out of habit mostly, because I needn’t have bothered with the effort of parting my lips.
The door was already closing behind Noc.
I watched him saunter to me, grinning. “All the action’s downstairs, sugarlips.”
“I have seen sleighs packed before, many times, starting from the moment I could cipher,” I reminded him. “It’s hardly fascinating.”
Noc stopped in front of me and looked down out of my window. “If it’s not interesting,” he said to the window before turning his attention to me, still grinning, “why are you watching it from up here?”
I stared into his face, his extraordinary eyes, remembering suddenly every moment from that first he’d walked into the sitting room to make me feel better after Minerva and her companions were bested, all of our moments layering, interweaving, making me feel warm…
And bereft.
“I fear I’ll miss you,” I whispered and watched his grin die.
“Frannie,” he whispered back, getting close, putting a hand to my waist and sliding it to the small of my back.
“You’ve been very kind to me. You…you’ve…” I shook my head and gave him the honest truth, “You’ve changed my life, Noc.” I drew in a swift breath and carried on even more swiftly, “And no matter what comes for both of us, I cannot abide you leaving without telling you how much it means and just how very grateful I am.”
He lifted his other hand, curling his fingers around the side of my neck as he dipped his head so his handsome face was near.
“What’s gonna come for both of us is I’m gonna do my thing and you’re gonna have quality time with your family. After that, we’ll meet in NOLA. Then the first thing I’m gonna do after feeding you pizza is get you drunk on hurricanes.”
I felt confusion at his final word but did it no longer finding it irritating. Weeks with Noc and having this feeling, I’d grown accustomed to it. Not to mention, he had great patience and I enjoyed his frequent amusement when I asked for clarification.
“There are hurricanes in Fleuridia,” I shared. “They’re so bad, seamen who can sense them and dogs that have been trained to do the same are quite valued, for most people pack their carriages and move far inland to avoid them and the death and destruction they often cause.”
His eyes lit. “It’s a weather phenomenon, sweetheart. But in my world it’s also a drink that will fuck you up.”
“I’m assuming your usage of ‘fuck you up’ in this instance is a good thing,” I guessed.
“Hell yeah,” he confirmed, again with an upward curve to his lips.
I lifted a hand and put it on his chest. “Then I’ll look forward to that, Noc.”
I’d barely ceased talking when his hand went from my neck to mine on his chest where he folded it tight in his hold and held it there against the soft wool of his thick sweater.
“I want you writing me,” he demanded, and at his demand, I stared.
“But, you’ll be far and wide. Any missive will—”
“I don’t care if the news is three months old when I get it,” he interrupted me to say. “I want you writing me and I’ll write you too.”
Oh.
We’d correspond.
How delightful!
I pressed my hand against his chest. “You have my vow, I will share all the ridiculously boring things that are happening to me as I await the birth of my brother’s child, and you can share with me all you’ve seen, heard, tasted and experienced as you travel the depth of a continent in a parallel universe.”
This time his eyes flashed with humor.
“I got a feeling you’ll find ways to liven shit up,” he told me.
He would be right.
I would be learning how to use my magic, for one, something he knew as I’d told him.
But the truth was, I was me. I wasn’t, but I was.
And I wasn’t about to abide boring.
“We shall see,” I replied.
He got even closer to the point our bellies were brushing through our clothes.
I held my breath.
He held my hand tighter at his chest.
“You leave first and you leave soon, baby,” he said quietly, suddenly looking rather splendidly fierce. “I’m gonna walk you down there and I’m gonna give you a hug in front of everybody and I’m gonna act like I feel, which is that this part is gonna suck because I’m gonna miss you too.”
He was going to miss me.
Why did that make me feel so much better?
“I have never been…hugged, in public that is,” I shared.
Again, his eyes flashed with humor. “Glad I get to break that seal.”
I felt my brows draw together. “Break that seal?”
It was then I felt my face freeze as he studied my brow only briefly before he dropped his forehead to mine, and instead of answering my question, he muttered, “Yeah, I’m gonna miss you too.”
“Noc,” I whispered.
“You be good,” he ordered.
Being good would be boring.
But that was me now. I’d eschewed my wicked ways.
I had no choice but to “be good.”
Ulk.
Though I’d find ways to be good without being boring (I hoped).
“I will,” I promised.
“Write me,” he went on.
“I already promised that,” I reminded him.
He behaved like I didn’t even speak.
“And when the green mist clears, baby, we’re gonna have a fuckin’ blast.”
I wanted that. I was very much looking forward to going to his world, especially these last few days after I’d shared I’d made the decision that I would and he’d explained much more about his world and what would be awaiting Josette and I there.
I wanted it more now because it would mean Josette and my adventure would finally begin and Noc and my separation would be over.
“Yeah?” he prompted when I said nothing.
“Yes, Noc,” I replied dutifully.
He pressed his forehead into mine before he pulled away, looked down out my window and murmured, “It’s time.”
I drew in a sharp breath at the sharp pain those words caused but tried to hide it as I cast my gaze in the same direction to see he spoke true.
And unfortunately Josette was outside, cloaked and ready to go, peering up at the palace in the direction of my room.
If I didn’t move, she would be forced to run up to fetch me. A waste of time and energy.
Thus I put one hand to the window, pulled slightly away from Noc, waved to her with my other and pointed down, indicating in a way I hoped she read that I would be right down.
She waved back, hopped twice on her boots and then whirled, causing an outward waft of her new, lovely cranberry wool cloak that was lined with sunshiny-gold rabbit fur.
Her new clothes were perfection not only because they suited her, but because she made no bones about the fact she was enjoying having them.
Although, according to Noc, she wouldn’t be able to wear them in our new world when we got there.
This mattered not. I was screamingly rich. I’d buy her another wardrobe in just months’ time and I’d delight in it.
It was a shock but it couldn’t be denied, acts of generosity felt very, very good.
On this thought, Noc drew me away from the window, my hand in his still held to his chest, but my arm was now tucked to his side as he led me out of the room.
Apparently, what needed to be said had been said. We were both quiet as we walked down the hall toward the stairs.
I found my feet lagging, Noc’s doing the same, and the silence became uncomfortable as we made our way down the stairs.
And as we walked across the grand entry, I had to force myself to put one foot in front of the other rather than drag them or come to a stop entirely, and the silence had become heavy with melancholy.
“Gods, I’ve grown maudlin,” I declared, staring at the door and only faintly sensing a footman coming forward with my cloak and hat.
“Yeah, goodbyes suck,” Noc agreed.
He let me go so I could accept my cloak on my shoulders and he awarded me with a cheeky grin when I’d pulled my hat over my forehead.
“Dr. Zhivago,” he whispered.
“I beg your pardon?” I asked, yanking on my gloves.
“Straight up, would seem impossible, but you’re a fuckuva lot more gorgeous even than Julie Christie,” he continued whispering. “And you don’t know it, sweetheart, but that’s saying something.”
Through his words I’d grown solid. I had no idea to whom he was referring, but his tone and the look on his face made the depth of his compliment sparklingly clear.
This meant I did something I’d never done in my life.
In an effort not to be overwhelmed with the emotion I was feeling, I swatted his arm like a spoiled child or a flirting debutante and accused, “You’re making this more difficult.”
“My apologies,” he said through a smile, taking hold of me again and heading us toward the front doors that footmen were opening for us, going on to say, “Let’s get your ass in that sleigh.”
Noc guided us out into the glorious cold only for me to find myself at the bottom of the palace steps having additional new pleasantly unpleasant experiences.
These being bidding adieu to Queen Aurora, Dax Lahn, Circe, Finnie, Frey, Tor and Cora, all people I would not again see, not soon, and perhaps (especially in the case of Circe and Lahn), not ever.
This meant for some unfathomable reason, in getting (and giving) many public hugs, the one I had with Circe was the longest.
And it felt good as well as bad, both coming from the fact it wasn’t only me who seemed not to wish to let go.
“Say hey to the other Circe for me,” she said in my ear.
“This I’ll do,” I promised.
“And don’t be hard on yourself like you’re so good at being,” she instructed. “The crap time is over. Now’s your time to let go and have fun.”
“Of course,” I replied, wishing to do as she instructed, but knowing from experience it would not be easy as the women had now been telling me this for some time. “As for you, I wish you a pleasant pregnancy, ease of birth and much joy when that bundle arrives.”
She pulled away but didn’t let me go to inform me, “The birth couldn’t be worse than the last. Then again, I shouldn’t say stuff like that or I might jinx myself.”
Jinx?
I didn’t ask.
I just gave her a small smile.
She gave me a big, bright one and finally let me go.
I could now say that holding affection for others, and having that returned, was quite a lovely feeling, going so far as admitting I treasured it, them, all of them (even Lahn, who was daunting but he could be quite amusing and gentle, both definitely endearing).
I could also now say that it had severe drawbacks for I had never, not once, lingered in leaving a place at all, but certainly not because I was saddened to leave the people there behind.
Noc had given me my first hug and he also came in to give me the last before he held my hand and (unnecessarily, but I did not pull away…oh no, I did not) steadied me as I made my way into my sleigh beside Josette who was already seated, ensconced under the furs.
“See you soon,” he told me softly once I, too, was under the furs.
I looked into his blue eyes.
It would not be soon.
It would be too bloody long.
“Yes, soon,” I agreed.
He leaned in. I held my breath. He kissed my nose. I let my breath go.
He moved away and did it decisively, shutting the door to the sleigh behind us.
“Ready?” Kristian called.
I tore my gaze from Noc moving away to nod to my brother.
He nodded back, turned ahead, snapped his reins and shouted, “Heeyah!”
I leaned forward and grabbed our reins from the hook in front of us and followed suit.
I didn’t wish to do anything inane such as wave or gaze lingeringly behind me for I knew all too well what either would communicate.
So I didn’t wave and I didn’t look behind me, my gaze lingering on Noc.
Instead, I looked behind me and waved once with a flick of my raised hand to indicate my final farewell to them all.
But I did this with my eyes locked to Noc.
He lifted his hand back.
I felt my throat get thick.
It was then I turned away and stared resolutely at the back of my brother’s sleigh, thinking I should have asked to have Timofei in our sleigh with us, not only because I enjoyed my nephew’s company, but also because he would be a pleasant distraction.
“You’re taken with him,” Josette said as we left the Winter Palace behind.
“Mm…” I murmured.
“As in, everyone knows you’re taken with him, but the truth is, you’re very taken with him,” she went on.
“Mm…” I repeated.
“As in, no one knew if we’d ever be away, you having to say goodbye to him and he to you,” she stated. “Everyone suspected such an event would take hours, even days, or longer.”
I looked to her. “There was talk of this?”
“I think it was Princess Cora who said something like there was a good chance Master Noc would drag you by your hair up to his bedroom and if that occurred they wouldn’t see either of you for weeks.”
Alas, that did not happen.
And truth be told, I doubted it ever would.
I struggled with, but could not deny, I was attracted to him.
His feelings in return were genuine and warm.
But not once had he ever given indication they were anything more.
I turned my attention back to where we were heading. This, I determined in that moment, would be my focus. Look only where I was heading. One minute to the next. One hour to the next. One day to the next.
And hopefully before we knew it, our true adventure would begin.
That adventure including being back with Noc.
For even if I had him only as my first real friend (outside, strictly, Josette, that was), my feelings for him were such I’d take that.
I’d take anything to have Noc.
Josette reached out and touched my wrist briefly. “We’ll be with him again soon.”
“Yes, we will,” I agreed and snapped the reins, for Kristian had done the same and was going faster.
Although I’d agreed, I knew it would not be soon enough.
* * * * *
Ten days later
“It’s your crystal ball.”
I stared with some distaste at the large, shining crystal sphere sitting on its bed of sapphire velvet that Valentine had just presented to me.
A crystal ball.
How cliché.
Was this really what magic was about?
Disappointing.
“There will be many implements you’ll acquire to assist you in brandishing the magic you have inside you. You’ll find your way with all of them. You’ll find your favorite. This,” Valentine indicated the crystal, “is mine.”
I looked from her back to the globe.
Well, this was my journey. This was who I was. And one could not say I wasn’t utterly delighted to experience the minimal magical experiences I’d had and the time I’d spent with my sister-witches.
In other words, I needed to keep an open mind.
Therefore, I lifted my hand and did so only to touch the cool glass.
When I did, a frisson of pleasure started at the small of my back and chased itself up my spine, over my shoulder, down my arm and through my fingertips, and inside the crystal ball I saw a wisp of the most beautifully-hued azure rise of smoke inside it.
Everything about me grew warm, inside and out.
Never, outside the color of Noctorno Hawthorne-of-the-other-world’s eyes, had I seen anything so exquisite.
“Indeed,” Valentine murmured. “You’re a natural.”
I stared at the smoke curling and suddenly had the uncanny desire to wrap my arms around that shining orb and hold it to me close, warm it with my body, memorize the feel of it against my breast.
I couldn’t deny it.
Even as cliché as it was.
I’d fallen in love.
* * * * *
Two weeks later
“Oh. My. That’s quite interesting.”
I spoke these words and continued to look in my crystal ball as I did, delighted I’d learned this very useful skill from Valentine.
I was right then watching the Dax Lahn of the other world. He was wearing clothing that was unusual, but not unattractive. His hair was short, cut to a length it curled around his collar. And he didn’t have a beard. But there was no mistaking he was as his twin by the forbidding look on his face.
“Is he angry?” I asked.
It took a few moments to realize I did not receive a reply.
I looked to Valentine who was sitting with me but her eyes were distant and aimed at the carved leg holding up the table.
“Valentine,” I called, and her attention came to me, then to my crystal.
She looked back to me. “It seems you’ve mastered that.”
I had. It wasn’t difficult.
It was, strangely, second nature.
As Valentine instructed, all I had to do was what I’d always done in the little experimentation I’d attempted.
Tap into the current that was continuously vibrating through me, allow the quickening, and for crystal ball gazing, simply send out to the ether what I wished to see. Then, with a swirl of sapphire smoke, it appeared.
“I have,” I replied, wishing to whisk away the other world Lahn from my orb and conjure up visions of Noc, who would undoubtedly have set sail on Frey’s galleon by now and be nearly to Hawkvale, if not already there.
But this I would not do. It would be intrusive. I would not wish someone watching me without my knowledge. Thus I would not do that to Noc, as much as I wanted to see his face, share in his adventure, even if I had to do it gazing in a crystal ball.
Valentine made no reply and again seemed distracted, something that was out of character for her.
From the moment we’d arrived in Älvkyla two weeks ago, she’d attended me six times.
In those times, I’d learned what an astral plane was. I’d learned how to put myself in a trance to travel along it in order to communicate with her as well as Lavinia. I’d been given my crystal ball and taught how to use it. I’d learned how to focus my thoughts (through chanting in my head, this Valentine shared was casting spells) and my power in order to move small objects, at first lifting them from where they lay, and advancing to moving them across the room to me.
It was not slow going. I felt the instinct born, if not bred, in me, and Valentine sensed it as well.
She was just teaching me how to manipulate it. She was teaching me how not to let it control me. She was also teaching me not to fear it.
This last was important, for with each passing lesson, I felt the power rising in me and it would be easy for it to grow out of control.
However, I was safe with Valentine. And I was safe with my power. I simply needed to become accustomed to it, nurture it…
And wield it.
In our other sessions, she’d always been fully engaged.
Now she was not.
“Is there something on your mind?” I asked.
Her eyes tipped to me. “Perhaps our session will be short today,” she replied, not, I noted, answering my question.
This I found annoying.
And oddly insulting.
“Are you my sister?” I requested to know rather abruptly.
“Of course,” she replied immediately.
I nodded. “I do sense we have somewhat of a kindred spirit. I’m independent and had to be due to life circumstances. You’re quite the same for reasons you haven’t shared and do not need to if you don’t wish. What I wish is to make certain you know, should you need to discuss anything, I’m not only here to be trained. I’m here to offer anything you need of me, and you’ll have it if I can give it.”
Her distraction cleared, she studied me closely and came to a decision.
“You know I wish to maneuver the Circe in my world to be with the Dax of that world,” she stated.
“I do,” I confirmed.
“And you know both Circes are witches, quite powerful ones,” she went on.
“I know that as well.”
“Thus, Circe sensed my preliminary operations and blocked them.”
“Ah,” I murmured, seeing her issue and hoping I, too, would sense it if someone was meddling in my life.
“I have made some further efforts, she’s still blocking me,” Valentine shared.
I didn’t quite understand.
“You can’t find this surprising,” I noted.
“It isn’t. But it’s frustrating, for this will undoubtedly mean two things. One, any interference I, and it is my hope that will be a we, wish to conduct will have to occur not through your training, as I’d hoped, but when we return to my world, which will mean a delay I don’t much like.”
“And?” I prompted when she said no more.
“And such interference will need to happen traditionally.”
I arched my brow. “Traditionally?”
“By means of…” her lip curled, “non-magical matchmaking.”
I didn’t try to swallow the amused chuckle that came through my lips.
Valentine didn’t find it humorous.
She stated, “It’s common.”
“My dear sister,” I whispered, feeling my lips remain curved as I held her eyes. “It is not common. Not the way I do it. I’ve made many a match, in the past doing it in order to amuse myself by severing the results of such efforts at a later date. But this…” I kept smiling. “An intrigue. One I can look forward to. And I do. I very much do. And I can promise you, you will too.”
One could not say this made me happy.
One could say this made me utterly ecstatic.
I could continue with my plotting and schemes.
But in doing so, I could do it for entirely different reasons, which I knew by witnessing the other world Lahn in my crystal, would be far more fulfilling.
I did not think of Noc’s tryst with Circe. I hadn’t mentioned it. He hadn’t mentioned it. No one had mentioned it and I found I could handle it that way.
What I could not do was think about what might happen when we were all together again in the same city in another world.
So I didn’t think about it.
“It would seem when we reach our world, the teacher will become the student,” Valentine remarked.
“You will enjoy my lessons,” I declared proudly. “Not as much as I’m enjoying the fruits of yours, but you will enjoy them. That I promise.”
Finally, Valentine’s preoccupation gone, she smiled.
“Now, let us study this man,” I suggested, using my hand to indicate my crystal. “We’ll need to know as much about him as we can so we’ll be prepared the moment I arrive in the other world.”
“This study will not be difficult.”
“He has no magic to block our regard?” I asked.
“No, he’s highly easy to watch,” Valentine answered.
To that, I smiled before we both turned to my sphere.
And we watched.
* * * * *
Noc
One Month Later
Standing on a balcony of Tor’s palace in Bellebryn, the sun warming through his clothes, the breeze from the emerald waters of the Green Sea making a place that was the sheer perfection of a goddamned, real-life fairytale even more perfect, he bent his head to the thick sheet of expensive paper in his hand.
It was a letter that had just been delivered to him by Tor (Noc was careful how he went about the palace and the city, considering he looked just like its ruler, without the scar, and so they arranged it so Cora was with him if he went exploring—the scar meaning he had to wear a big hat that was completely ridiculous, but at least it didn’t have the totally ridiculous feather most of the other men’s hats had in that country).
Tor had also told him that in order for that letter to come through royal post—something that meant missives arrived a lot faster than normal post, Aurora kindly having allowed Franka to take advantage of that—she’d had to have written it within weeks of him leaving.
This meant Noc read the letter with a smile on his face, that smile there for more than just getting his first letter from his girl.
My dearest Noc,
Damn good start.
There is much to say but not much I can write, I’m sure you understand my meaning.
She was not wrong about that.
But he got from her tone her witch training was going well.
As you know, Valentine has been keeping me company a great deal. I enjoy her presence and our many conversations.
Yep. Her training was going well.
Noc’s smile deepened.
Brikitta has begun to show and as such, she’s ordered her clothing from when she had Timofei in her belly out of storage.
You can rest assured I shared with her this was preposterous and demanded she go into Älvkyla with me to requisition a new wardrobe.
She explained this was quite the waste of coin as she would need a further selection of garments for when she grew more with her child.
I explained that I was ludicrously rich (as, now, was she, thanks to me, but I didn’t have a burgeoning family to look after) and my sister was not going to be wearing the fashions of more than two years previous while she nurtured my future niece or nephew (I’ve decided on niece and Brikitta has secretly agreed with me, Kristian will be happy with whatever, but as a man, he is very bad at hiding that he wishes another son).
Of course, Brikitta, who I’ve noted has a highly unattractive stubborn streak, flatly denied this request and when I went into town and ordered her clothing myself, she complained to Kristian.
Kristian brought his wife’s concerns to me. To say he was not interested in them and therefore did not squander much time in attempting to convince me to change my mind would be quite the understatement.
Thus Brikitta’s new garments started arriving yesterday.
She looks quite fetching in them.
Kristian agrees.
Brikitta does too, but she has not admitted this aloud.
Though, Timofei has found his way to share he much likes them as well.
He is, of course, becoming brighter and brighter as the days pass. I’m no clairvoyant but I feel fairly certain he will be Head of the Drakkar House when it’s his time. Ousting one of the Frey’s direct line to do so will be quite the achievement, but mark me, this will surely happen.
There’s not much else to tell, except both Josette and I find it highly amusing that Kristian and Brikitta’s servants have taken to calling her “Mistress Josette” due to the fact I treat her with such familiarity and we often share breakfasts and even lunches together.
I have not disabused them of the notion of doing this. She’s far superior to any I’ve known in her profession so this show of respect is due her.
At that, Noc started laughing.
Only Franka could make treating a servant with equality seem like she did it with superiority.
As I feared, there is naught else to share.
Though I do look forward to receiving your communiqués.
And I very much hope you’re enjoying your adventures.
Now, I shall bid you farewell until my next undoubtedly titillating missive where I’ll regale you with news of the next set of garments I’ll press on Brikitta and perhaps how I liked, or disliked, the soup I’d taken at lunch.
Until then…and until we meet again,
Always yours,
Franka
Since he’d sent a letter from the port city in Lunwyn (the part of it that used to be Middleland), and he’d used Finnie’s dispatch to do it, Franka should be getting his letter any day now, if she hadn’t already gotten it.
That didn’t stop him from walking into the room behind him, his bedroom in this huge palace that Disney animators would freak over, and go right to the desk in that room.
He sat.
He pulled out paper.
And he shared news that might be more adventurous than hers, but she wouldn’t think so since she’d seen it and done it all before.
That didn’t stop him either.
In fact, he wrote three pages of the stuff.
Then he sealed it and found Cora so she could send it.
This she arranged before she gave him a hat and took him to Tor’s horse, Salem, an outrageously handsome animal (and one who could talk to him, right in his head, if that shit could be believed).
Before getting to that world, Noc had been horseback riding twice in his life.
He’d been on a horse a shit ton since they left The Finnie—Frey’s kickass galleon that was straight from a pirate movie—in Bellebryn’s port.
And off he went with Cora, having to pretend to be Tor until they left the city and galloped across a countryside where the air glittered.
Fucking glittered.
It was amazing.
He missed Franka. He missed just looking at her, but he missed more how damned funny she was, how cute she could be and how her trusting him the way she did, the way she showed she did, the way he knew she didn’t give to anybody (but maybe Josette, and perhaps the dead Antoine, but Noc didn’t go there) made him feel.
But he sure as fuck was glad she’d made the decision she’d made.
Because he wouldn’t have known what he was missing.
But he was sure glad he didn’t miss it.
And he had it.
But in the end, he’d have her too.
* * * * *
Franka
Two and a half months later
Hey there, Sugarlips,
I should not smile. I really should not. He was incorrigible. Even in the written word.
I nevertheless smiled.
I’m guessing you know Finnie and Frey have returned to Lunwyn since they should have gotten there a while ago and brought my last letter with them.
He was correct in this. They had.
Finnie wanted to continue on with me, but Frey wanted her home. She’s getting along in her pregnancy and he wants her close to a doctor he trusts. That didn’t go over real well with Finnie. She thinks like we do in our world, obviously, and most women work until they practically go into labor…
How bizarre!
And dangerous!
…and they had a big blowout about it. Frey won. Not because Finnie agrees with him that advanced pregnancy makes a woman invalid, when it doesn’t. But he’s a dude and dudes tend to express worry through anger and bossiness. She’s been with him long enough to know that so they took off and passed me off to Achilles, Apollo’s cousin (in case you haven’t met him, tho’ with the incestuous way those Houses are, you probably have) who, with some of Lo’s other guys, we went through Hawkvale and now we’re in Fleuridia.
Gotta say, I’m not much of a fan of south Lunwyn. There’s a bleakness to it that’s actually pretty, in its way, but it’s also depressing. I can see why that asshole, Baldur, didn’t like what he got in the cutting-a-country-in-two bargain. Doesn’t excuse him being an asshole, but I can see that.
Bellebryn and Hawkvale, I don’t have to tell you, are fucking amazing. There’s a lot of beauty in my world and you’ll see that, I’ll make sure of it.
But there’s nothing like this. It’s so pure, it’s like magic. It almost doesn’t seem real and the fact it is makes it even more beautiful.
It also makes me wonder what my world was like a hundred years ago, two hundred, a thousand. Was it like this? Did we fuck it up with all our garbage?
If we did, you’ll see how much that sucks.
What’s worse is that we’re still doing it.
I won’t get into that.
What I’ll say is, Fleuridia is my favorite, outside Lunwyn.
Oh my.
He felt the same as me!
It has the magic and the beauty of Bellebryn and Hawkvale, but with sophistication. The food here is unbelievable. The wine, even better.
He was quite right!
People are friendly, but not in your face about it (that could be me having trouble getting around in Bellebryn and Hawkvale, looking like Tor—here, some look at me with curiosity, but most people don’t pay me any mind at all, and gotta admit, that’s a relief—I don’t know how Tor does it, that’s gotta suck).
Lahn and Circe went on ahead ages ago because Lahn, like Frey, wants Circe at their house in Korwahn when she’s getting closer to the time. They asked me to meet them there and from what they said about Korwahk, I’d like to go.
But it’s gonna be hard leaving here. We’re headed to Benies to hook up with Apollo and Maddie. I figure my time is getting short, at most, I have three months left and it takes forever to get anywhere. We’ll see. I’d like to take in all I can but if Benies is half as awesome as the rest of Fleuridia is, I gotta spend some time eating and drinking my way through it. So maybe we can talk Valentine into sending us to Korwahk some other time. It’d be good to catch up with Lahn and Circe and meet their new arrival after he or she shows.
He was right again. That would be good.
And I liked how he said “talk Valentine into sending us” because he’d said “us.”
Though even as much as I liked it, I wondered at it.
What did “us” mean to Noc?
What did it even mean to me?
Those questions gave me the unusual sensation of my heart fluttering in my chest at the same time dread settled heavy in my belly.
I set both aside and refocused on Noc’s missive.
One other thing I gotta do is make sure Valentine transports the five cases of wine I’ve bought from the vineyards we’re stopping at along the way. Have a word with her about that, would you? And just to say, sweetheart, the way me and the guys are going, by the time this letter gets to you, that could be fifteen cases of wine.
This would mean I’d have Fleuridian wine in the new world.
And Noc to share it with (for it didn’t even occur to me that he wouldn’t share it).
Excellent.
Okay, not much else to say. Glad to read you’re getting on with things and you’re liking doing that. Looking forward to getting the full scoop, baby. Feels like time has flown at the same time it feels like it’s dragging. There’s a lot I’d love to know that’s going on with you and can’t wait to hear it.
Now, I should go. We make Benies in two days but only if I get my ass to bed so I can climb on that damn horse tomorrow and hold on. Achilles doesn’t fuck around with taking in the countryside. At least my ass is used to sitting that horse and doesn’t hurt so goddamn much (along with the rest of my body) at the end of the day. I’ll miss a lot from this world when I leave it, but I sure as fuck will be happy to see a car.
I grinned at the letter and read Noc’s last.
So I’ll end it here. Still miss you. It’ll be good to see you again, Frannie.
Take care of yourself, your family and Josette. Say hey to them all for me.
You, me and a slice of pizza, babe.
Soon.
Lotsa love,
-Noc-
Him and me and a slice of pizza.
Soon.
Very soon. Brikitta had grown quite heavy with child (even if she was such stylishly, her pregnancy wardrobe was stunning, if I did say so myself).
The wait for my new niece (I hoped) or nephew (I would not be disappointed) I felt was close to over.
Yes.
Soon.
Noc.
Me.
And pizza.
* * * * *
One Month Later
The midwife at the other end, as Brikitta sweated and grunted and moaned and gritted her teeth audibly in a highly unladylike manner, I had the dubious (at that point) honor, at Brikitta’s request, of attending the birth and holding her hand through it.
It was a hand I’d feared she’d break for it seemed she was tiring greatly but her strength had not been affected in the slightest.
And it was at that juncture I feared she was tiring greatly for the midwife kept summoning her to push, her entreaties seeming more and more urgent, and my sister-in-law was drenched with sweat, her hair, her shift, the bedclothes, and her face had gone from red and pained to drained of color and the pain had drifted from her eyes, a vagueness setting in.
“She mustn’t lose consciousness,” Hilde, Brikitta’s sister, who’d arrived two weeks ago to be present at this very moment, hissed.
I looked across the bed to her, a woman assuming the same position as I, on her feet, bent double, holding her sister’s hand. Her expression had been joyful and encouraging these last hours, now it appeared anxious and borderline panicked.
I then looked to Brikitta and saw not only her eyes had gone vague, her head was lolling on her shoulders.
“She must push,” the midwife pressed and the urgency was gone.
Fear was threading her tone.
And that fear threaded through my veins.
“The baby’s just about to crown, I can feel it,” the midwife went on. “She needs one, hearty push. If I can get hold of him…”
“Her,” I snapped, not for myself (solely).
My sister-in-law wanted a girl.
My brother didn’t care, but Brikitta had confided in me she longed for a baby girl that she could dress and Kristian could dote over and Timofei could love and protect.
I had no idea if the child was a girl. I was not a seer (I’d tried, I’d failed), as Valentine was not.
But I had hope.
“Whatever it is,” the midwife snapped back, “make her push. If we lose her now, we could lose them both now.”
“That is not happening,” I shared haughtily, watched her open her mouth to speak but I turned my head from hers, tightened my hand well beyond the strength Brikitta had been using, feeling her bones and flesh crunch in my grip, and I bent over my sister. “Awake!” I commanded.
Her eyes fluttered and her head again drooped.
I yanked her hand hard so her back left the bed, Hilde cried, “Franka!” but Brikitta focused on me.
“Look at me and push,” I ordered.
“I’m so tired, Franka,” she whispered.
“I’m quite certain you were tired of me being an unceasing bitch for five years but you never let me beat you,” I retorted.
She blinked at me.
“Push,” I charged.
“I don’t…have much…more…”
I yanked her again, heard Hilde’s surprised cry, but my maneuver had the desired results. The fading Brikitta focused again.
I put my face square in hers.
“Push, sister. I’ll not have you leaving us now. Not now. Not ever. Today, you bring my brother more joy. You bring it for yourself. And you bring it for me, and I get what I bloody well want. So you’re giving me a bloody niece. Now…push.”
“You…are very… mercenary,” Brikitta forced out.
“I’m a Drakkar,” I retorted. “Now, I’d be happy to have a conversation with you, sister. But before that, if you’d be so kind—”
I didn’t finish as, before I could, her hand crushed mine, she bared her teeth as she gritted them, the blood rushed to her face and she bent forward, groaning.
“I see the head!” the midwife cried.
Thank the gods!
I looked that way and saw the same, covered in Kristian’s dark hair.
I again turned to Brikitta. “She’s got Kristian’s hair.” I watched her eyes flash. “Keep going, my beautiful girl.”
She nodded and kept pushing.
Back and forth I looked as more of the baby came through, Hilde’s encouragement mingled with my own, and finally on a tortured cry that I was sure, if my brother heard it (and the last time I checked, he was pacing the hall outside this very bed chamber door so he would), would send him into a deathly fright, the rest of the baby came out.
“It’s a boy!” the midwife whispered excitedly.
Brikitta slumped against the pillows.
I drew in a long breath, let it out and sat down on the bed, still holding her hand as Hilde let the other one go to dash around with bathing cloths and blankets, clucking and cooing, and murmuring, “How beautiful, so beautiful.”
Through this, Brikitta stared at what was happening at the end of the bed, an exhausted smile shading her lips, a look of deep contentment eclipsing the fatigue that shadowed her eyes.
It took time, but eventually feeling my gaze, she gave me hers.
When she did, I felt my eyes get moist.
I sniffed and decreed, “A boy. It seems you’ll have to do this again.”
Her eyes grew wide then her exhausted laughter filled the room.
I smiled before I leaned forward, kissed her forehead, let her go, got up and walked out of the room in order to tell my brother he had a new son.
* * * * *
Noc
Darling.
Noc turned in bed.
Noc, are you there?
His eyes shot open and he sat straight up. He looked around the room that had no furniture (except that bed) but still, with the patterned metal mirrors and weave work adorning the walls and other shit like that, it kicked ass.
The moonlight shone through the opened windows and he saw nothing.
Noc?
Fuck, that was Franka’s voice.
“Frannie?” he called into the empty room.
You’re there.
He didn’t know where her voice was coming from, his head or disembodied in the room.
He also didn’t give a shit.
It was just fucking great to hear her voice.
“I see you’ve learned some wielding,” he remarked.
Her voice held humor when she replied, If it would not take great magic, I’d be standing by your bed.
He would not mind that at all.
Months had passed. Her lover was not freshly dead. She was no longer in the throes of grief. Her parents had not just been discovered to be the fuckwads they were and Franka was not trying to find ways to cope with the massive changes that meant, healing from mental wounds as well as the physical ones her father had unleashed.
It was time they had a conversation.
Though, he’d wait until he had her on his turf and not do it when she was somewhere else and just coming to him in his head (or whatever).
I have a new nephew, she shared.
“Fuckin’ hell, baby, that’s awesome,” he said as he laid back in bed and crossed his hands behind his head.
It is, she agreed.
“Everyone good?” he asked.
Yes. The baby is healthy, loud and robust. Quite heavy, he gave Brikitta a tough time, but she persevered. He’s also quite long, so he, too, will be tall like his father. A full head of hair. All his fingers. All his toes. Brikitta is tired but she’s got plenty of people around to look after the child so she can get some rest. I nearly had to cast a spell on Josette to make her forget for a time we had a newborn in our midst. She quite fell in love.
He thought of her and the frequent time she spent with Tim.
“And I’m sure you’re not interested at all,” he teased.
They’ve named him Frantz.
Even, however she was coming to him, he could hear the emotion thickening her voice.
“Baby,” he whispered.
He said no more, giving her a minute to pull her shit together because that was Franka. She wasn’t about falling apart.
She took that minute and said in a crisp voice (total Franka, bullshitting to cover), He’s quite handsome.
“Babies aren’t handsome, sugarlips, they’re cute.”
I thought you said I was cute.
“You are. Babies are a different kind of cute.”
And baby is what you often call me.
He chuckled.
There are parts of your patois that are very clever. There are parts that make no sense. She paused before she finished, And now, after I take a week or so to get to know my new nephew, be certain Brikitta is well and recovering, and sort out Josette and I, I’ll learn much more.
“Yeah, you will,” he agreed.
Are you…?
He waited for her to finish but she didn’t.
He turned to his side, wrapping a hand around his pillow and using both arms to curl it closer.
Like it was a woman.
Like Franka was there.
Fuck he hoped the saying was right that time healed all wounds.
If it didn’t, he’d wait for her to heal. He’d help her do it.
But he’d also be right fucking there if she was.
“I’m ready when you are, babe. Korwahk is fuckin’ nutty. I dig it to visit and explore, but I’m not sure how Circe made the decision to live here forever. Interesting. But still fucked up. Knew she loved Lahn in a big way. Now I know the woman loves her husband seriously ’cause she’s not only cool livin’ here, she’s totally in her element. It’s like she’s lived here all her life.”
I would like the opportunity one day to witness her in her element.
“We’ll figure that out. First, next time you see Valentine, let her know we’re good to go and have her get in touch with me so I know when that’s gonna happen. I’m good to go too but that doesn’t mean I want green smoke to surround me and suddenly be gone before I say goodbye.”
I’ll be certain she forewarns you.
“Thanks, Frannie.”
And I must go. It’s late here and I wish to check in once more with Kristian and Brikitta before I’m abed.
“Right, sweetheart. Glad you floated into my consciousness and gave me the good news.”
I’m not in your consciousness, Noc, she informed him snootily, I’m gliding on an astral plane, though without my body. I’ve simply tuned in to your plane. You have my conscious as I’m in a trance. But I don’t have yours.
“You do know that makes no fuckin’ sense whatsoever,” he stated.
I’ll explain it more thoroughly over pizza.
Fuck yeah, she would.
“Right, go to bed, baby. And see you soon.”
Yes, Noc. Soon. Sleep well.
“You too, Frannie. Later.”
Uh…well, um…later.
He grinned and could actually feel it when he lost her.
Kristian had named his kid Frantz.
Noc liked the guy. Now he liked him more.
He drew the pillow closer and closed his eyes.
A week or so.
Then he’d finally be home.
And so would Frannie.