if the truth has been forbidden then we're breaking all the rules; Eld, Wichita

[Arrya]

If the truth has been forbidden, then we're breaking all the rules.

The not being able to fly thing was really getting her down.  Or keeping her down, as it were.  Arrya missed her wings, missed the wind caressing her whole body, missed the quiet and the views and the breathlessness of going just a little too high.  She missed being able to leap off a cliff and soar, hitching a ride on thermals that sent her body and her mood spiraling up, up, up!  She missed dancing with Gendry in the sky.

But she was getting huge, and even if her wings were capable of carrying the extra weight of almost-waddling-stage pregnancy she wasn’t about to put her little one at risk just for the sake of a thrill.  Even if being grounded was starting to make her feel like a beached whale, stranded on land with no hope of escape until the tide came in.  Or, in her case, until the baby came out.  Details.

Arrya was used to being small and fast and agile.  Scruffy and inconspicuous too, and now she felt…like a giant goddamn target, a dead weight.  She was still tiny height-wise, sadly.  Gendry still towered the fuck over her with that deliciously appealing, tall-bright-and-sexy way of his, with all those lovely ripply muscles and the light playing on his skin as he moved…mmm…oh wait, what?  Right!  She was still tiny when it came to height, but her belly was blowing up like a bullfrog’s throat, except full of giant-spawn.  Fluffy, cuddly, adorable little giant-spawn, but all taking up her insides and stomping on her bladder and getting bigger, bigger, always getting bigger.

The baby kicked, and it was still new enough that it distracted her from her angsty little yearning for the sky and put a dopey little grin on her face.  Good morning to you too, baby.  You sure are getting strong, huh?  Those kicks were going to maul the hell out of her insides when she was closer to giving birth, no doubt.  But they were a good sign.  Gendry was always there to take care of her and the baby if something went wrong, but it reassured her when the little one squirmed and kicked and made signs of life.  

It made her feel better that he had an eye on her too, making sure she was healthy despite the strain of growing two whole new people inside her.  She’d never even met her birth mother, so she couldn’t ask how her birth had gone.  She didn’t know if she was the firstborn, or the only, or if she had a dozen siblings running around.  She couldn’t ask whether it had been hard, whether her mother had been in labor forever, whether anything had gone wrong.  She would never know, and she’d…well, she’d thought she was okay with that.  She didn’t need blood family when she had Gendry.  And they were making their own blood family.  

Know what, though?  You’re never gonna have to feel that way about me, not for a moment.  I’m always going to be here for you, always.  I’m going to tell you how much I love you so much you’ll get sick of it.  You’ll roll your eyes at your sappy old mom—who will, by the way, be looking damn good again by the time you’re at the eye-rolling age—but deep down it’ll give you the warm fuzzies because you’re never, ever, ever going to wonder if your parents gave a damn about the life they created.  You were on purpose.  We want you in our lives, we’re ready for you to happen, and we love you so damn much.  And we’re never gonna let you forget it.  And we’re wrangling up your aunties and your uncles, and you’ve got a cousin floating around somewhere, and a grandma who’s going to geek the fuck out about you and probably find a way to spoil the shit out of you even from half a world away.  All waiting for you.  But take your time.  I only get you to myself like this for a little while.

Elaborate internal monologue aside, Arrya was doing some wandering, keeping a weather eye on the sky and catching glimpses of a certain someone in falcon shape watching out for her as she got a bit of exercise and maybe actually some social interaction, gods knew why she wanted it.  She’d never been social before, perfectly content to while away hours with herself and her Gendry and…well, her Rhory back before that had fallen apart.  Still, seemed like she wanted it more these days, so she headed for the Meadow to find…well, she wasn’t really sure yet.  Maybe…maybe someone who’d had a kid before, or who was pregnant too, or maybe just company.  So tiny, scruffy bay Arrya ambled.  Not waddled.  Ambled.  Into the Meadow, all nonchalant-like.  No big deal, just deliberately attempting to bond with another female.  What, it was totally possible.

Right?

Arrya.