Born of our blood.

Arlecchino has been uncharacteristically out of it for the past few weeks, her mind seemingly miles away.

Of course she was absolutely ecstatic when she found out about the pregnancy—had practically thrown herself at you with tears in her eyes. You’re probably the only person who ever got the Knave to break down.

For months, her mind has been on overdrive to the point she was completely on auto-pilot. She wants to provide everything you want; all your needs handed to you on a silver platter the second you so much as open your mouth… though it’s difficult to manage when she has little to no knowledge regarding pregnancy. Her desk—usually so filled to the brim with confidential paperwork regarding Fatui works and diplomatic documents—now carried stacks upon stacks of books regarding pregnancy and ‘First Time Fathers’, brought in by Lyney and Lynette at the Harbinger’s command.

Ironic, really.

7 months in and Arlecchino still feels as though she did not learn a thing.

The Knave grits her teeth, her helplessness boiling over to the slightest bit of frustration. She prided herself in her own self control over her own emotions but this is… a lot.

Arlecchino didn’t know how to handle it. In all honestly, the Knave still had a lot to learn—she knew that. Sure, she handled children in the past—handles them all day long—but never a newborn. Never one born out of a mix of her lover’s blood and her own. On one hand, she still had her responsibilities as the Fourth of the Fatui Harbingers, her hands stained by the blood of many, a dangerous work… the thought of bringing new life to that kind of lifestyle petrifies her. She’s already so afraid of bringing harm your way, imagine your baby? And even when both your safeties have been ensured, who says the curse won’t affect the baby too?

The sounds of your footsteps echoing in the living room snaps her out of her reverie, blinking her gaze down to the now cool tea she was nursing in her grasp. She sets it down onto the coffee table with a clink.

“My love, you’re still up late?” Arlecchino turns to watch you approach, deep bags under her eyes that reflect the many sleepless nights she’s had just overthinking everything. No one would have dared imagined such a sight, not even yourself… but now here it is—a reality before you. She reaches a hand out and tugs at the sleeve of your silk pajamas, pulling you close to sit you on her lap. Her hands instinctively cover your own over your swollen belly.

“What seems to be keeping you awake? Is it the baby kicking?” She asks with a tilt of her head. “Or... is it my absence? I’ll come to bed with you if so.”

But both of you know it was deeper than just that.