The Red Vixen at Sea: Rough Beaching
Sep. 27th, 2014 05:48 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jeriendhalGoing slightly out of order with these now. Though I think I'm going to try to work on this as a PicoNano project for November.
* * *
Melanie released her death grip on the piece of broken furniture, rising to her feet wobbly, feeling the ground seem to shift back and forth underneath her as the waves spilled over her feet and up the beach.
"Are you all right?" Rolas asked, looking concerned, seeming to ignore the cut on his own forehead.
"Fine," she said shakily, feeling her stomach churn. "Can't get my balance though."
"Sea legs," he said. "You'll be back to normal in a few minutes."
Melanie nodded, immediately regretted it, and shook off her husband's grip to stumble up the beach and behind a nearby frond bush, vomiting up what was left of last night's dinner. When she came back around, he was looking concerned.
"Did you swallow any sea water?" he asked.
"Don't think so, not much at least," she gasped, plopping down on nearby driftwood log. Her shorts and top were soaked with salt water, and every inch of her fur seemed to be itching, as she felt sand in some extremely uncomfortable places.. She licked dry lips, tasting salt and hoping to the Mother Goddess there was fresh water to found on this benighted sandbar.
"Well, at least we're on solid land, you won't have to worry about seasickness after this," he said dryly, looking up and down the beach. Flotsam birds cawed overhead, probably eyeing the remains of their sailboat as bit continued to drift up onto the beach, driven by the tide.
"I don't think I'll be that lucky," she muttered, rubbing her belly absently, trying to catch her breath.
"What do you mean?"
Melanie glanced up at her husband, pressing her paw a little tighter against her stomach, feeling it knot tighter. "Nothing," she muttered, turning her face away, feeling her ears turn back.
"That 'nothing' sounds like 'something'," he said suspiciously. "What's going on? Are you ill? Is that why you didn't want to go on this trip?"
She bit her lip, not meeting his eyes. "Not sick. Not exactly."
His tone sharpened. "What is it then?" he demanded.
"It's a Vixen Difficulty, Rolas," she replied, trying not to snap, her discomfort exacerbating the guilt running through her.
"What then?" Rolas asked, taking a deep breath and visibly trying to lower his hackles. In a more moderate tone he said, "We agreed to take this trip to try and fix things between us. That's not going to happen if you continue to keep secrets from me."
"It's not a secret. I was going to tell you... Just not yet...." Melanie closed her eyes tightly for a moment, then opened them again and raised her head to meet Rolas' gaze. Her husband's eye were a mixture of exasperation and concern, but not, thank the Mother Goddess, anger. I'm tired of you being angry with me.
"I'm pregnant."
Rolas' eye went wide, his ears turning back and his jaw dropping open. "Pregnant? How?"
She rolled his eyes at him. "The usual way, Rolas."
"But that's not possible. You have a contraceptive implant!"
Melanie flinched at his sharp tone. "I had it removed six weeks ago, at my last checkup."
"Removed it?" he demanded, his voice rising. "Without telling me? Melanie, we had an agreement. Two years, we'd wait two years before trying, to give me a chance to settle in with my duties at my parent's expanded domain and for you to disentangle yourself from all your connections to your old identity as the Red Vixen. We discussed it. We agreed to it!"
"I know, I know, Rolas," she said, pressing her paws to her temples. "But... but things seemed to be going so wrong with us, after I tried to press Ali on your sister. I thought... I thought if was I pregnant..."
"You thought you'd tangle me with obligation? Like some idiot romantic vid serial?"
"No!" she shot back. "I thought if we had a child together, it would help fix things, focus us both on the future instead you being obsessed with going over every stupid mistake I'd ever made."
Rolas marched in a circle around her driftwood seat, paw rubbing over his ears in frustration. "You thought that... Melanie, how could you be so..." He bit down on the end of that sentence, evidently trying to reign in his anger, and finally finished with, "Why?"
"Because things were going so wrong between us," she cried out. "And I didn't want to lose you! I'm so afraid..."
"Afraid of what?" he asked, in a softer tone.
She felt the tears begin running down her face, mixing with the salt in her fur, burning her eyes, "Afraid of you hating me. I don't want you to hate me Rolas. I don't want to be alone again."
* * *
Melanie released her death grip on the piece of broken furniture, rising to her feet wobbly, feeling the ground seem to shift back and forth underneath her as the waves spilled over her feet and up the beach.
"Are you all right?" Rolas asked, looking concerned, seeming to ignore the cut on his own forehead.
"Fine," she said shakily, feeling her stomach churn. "Can't get my balance though."
"Sea legs," he said. "You'll be back to normal in a few minutes."
Melanie nodded, immediately regretted it, and shook off her husband's grip to stumble up the beach and behind a nearby frond bush, vomiting up what was left of last night's dinner. When she came back around, he was looking concerned.
"Did you swallow any sea water?" he asked.
"Don't think so, not much at least," she gasped, plopping down on nearby driftwood log. Her shorts and top were soaked with salt water, and every inch of her fur seemed to be itching, as she felt sand in some extremely uncomfortable places.. She licked dry lips, tasting salt and hoping to the Mother Goddess there was fresh water to found on this benighted sandbar.
"Well, at least we're on solid land, you won't have to worry about seasickness after this," he said dryly, looking up and down the beach. Flotsam birds cawed overhead, probably eyeing the remains of their sailboat as bit continued to drift up onto the beach, driven by the tide.
"I don't think I'll be that lucky," she muttered, rubbing her belly absently, trying to catch her breath.
"What do you mean?"
Melanie glanced up at her husband, pressing her paw a little tighter against her stomach, feeling it knot tighter. "Nothing," she muttered, turning her face away, feeling her ears turn back.
"That 'nothing' sounds like 'something'," he said suspiciously. "What's going on? Are you ill? Is that why you didn't want to go on this trip?"
She bit her lip, not meeting his eyes. "Not sick. Not exactly."
His tone sharpened. "What is it then?" he demanded.
"It's a Vixen Difficulty, Rolas," she replied, trying not to snap, her discomfort exacerbating the guilt running through her.
"What then?" Rolas asked, taking a deep breath and visibly trying to lower his hackles. In a more moderate tone he said, "We agreed to take this trip to try and fix things between us. That's not going to happen if you continue to keep secrets from me."
"It's not a secret. I was going to tell you... Just not yet...." Melanie closed her eyes tightly for a moment, then opened them again and raised her head to meet Rolas' gaze. Her husband's eye were a mixture of exasperation and concern, but not, thank the Mother Goddess, anger. I'm tired of you being angry with me.
"I'm pregnant."
Rolas' eye went wide, his ears turning back and his jaw dropping open. "Pregnant? How?"
She rolled his eyes at him. "The usual way, Rolas."
"But that's not possible. You have a contraceptive implant!"
Melanie flinched at his sharp tone. "I had it removed six weeks ago, at my last checkup."
"Removed it?" he demanded, his voice rising. "Without telling me? Melanie, we had an agreement. Two years, we'd wait two years before trying, to give me a chance to settle in with my duties at my parent's expanded domain and for you to disentangle yourself from all your connections to your old identity as the Red Vixen. We discussed it. We agreed to it!"
"I know, I know, Rolas," she said, pressing her paws to her temples. "But... but things seemed to be going so wrong with us, after I tried to press Ali on your sister. I thought... I thought if was I pregnant..."
"You thought you'd tangle me with obligation? Like some idiot romantic vid serial?"
"No!" she shot back. "I thought if we had a child together, it would help fix things, focus us both on the future instead you being obsessed with going over every stupid mistake I'd ever made."
Rolas marched in a circle around her driftwood seat, paw rubbing over his ears in frustration. "You thought that... Melanie, how could you be so..." He bit down on the end of that sentence, evidently trying to reign in his anger, and finally finished with, "Why?"
"Because things were going so wrong between us," she cried out. "And I didn't want to lose you! I'm so afraid..."
"Afraid of what?" he asked, in a softer tone.
She felt the tears begin running down her face, mixing with the salt in her fur, burning her eyes, "Afraid of you hating me. I don't want you to hate me Rolas. I don't want to be alone again."
