Agnieszka
Her belly was slow to round and there was a short while that she didn’t think it was going to. There hadn’t been any particular intention of conception when she and Wane had come together, they’d simply come to that chapter, the place where things went further without either of them declaring what they did or did not feel thus leaving the entire thing just a little more complicated than it had already been. Though she cannot say that Wane has been complicated. He was kind to her in the beginning, willing to flirt with her a bit and she had expected him to cast her aside...but that hasn’t happened yet, to her knowledge, though she has avoided him a bit since their union.
Not a bit.
Entirely.
The water is like ice, and the babe in her belly kicks in protest when Eszka plunges away from Nerine’s shore. Normally it enjoys when she swims, fluttering and kicking in a way she interprets as happiness. The cold though is a shock and Eszka belatedly wonders if the cold is too dangerous for the pair of them. She swears the babe is burrowing up under her ribs, and there is a piercing stitch in her side when she once again stumbles onto the rocky eastern shore of Icicle Isle.
Agnieszka shakes herself carefully, wishing for the enchanted breeze that had dried her the last time she’d come here. She looks back toward Nerine but her features are placid. Perhaps Breckin and Djinni will forgive her for abandoning their home, she had never expected to. She isn’t eager to dwell on unexpected things.
She has lived long enough to feel life growing within her, and will not look back on how close she’d come to never seeing this cold grey day.
The moment she had realized she was pregnant she had been flooded with the deepest and most inexplicable sorrow. Her throat had closed and she had wailed and lost her feet. Sickened and suffering she had retreated far from everyone she could and mourned. Truly, the dark thing mourned but Eszka could not know that. Usually it could not reach out of it’s prison and effect her but it’s broken heart (poorly stitched, just enough to keep the body living) was rent anew and it bled out into the painted mare’s heart and mind like poison. No one would ever know about that strange agony, and in time she was well again and began to fall in love with her unborn child in spite of whatever the dark thing suffered.
It is that love that drives her out of Nerine and into the supposed safety of the Isle. Love that motivates her to find Wane (does she love him? She cannot ask herself, the answer lives on the edge of that strange and foreign sadness), because his child should know him.
She almost can’t believe how excited she is at the prospect of seeing him, and the infant kicks in response to the anxious fluttering of her heart. Scarred Agnieszka climbs the beach but does not leave it, she follows the curve of the land one eye always on the blue-green sea.
an unequaled gift for disaster
@[Wane] So I forgot that she is weird and I love her.