Steel and Mana-Chapter 390 – Elena’s News

It was still a cold wintery morning, but the sky was surprisingly clear, free of clouds, and with the sun out in full force, making the snow glow whiter than usual. The wind rushing into the room freshened up the air inside the house while also spreading the aroma of Matilda's morning coffee around as she stood there, sipping on it standing next to the windowsill.

She watched as Pion buttoned the last part of his overcoat, putting it above his simple shirt. One thing she had to confess was that she really liked how her husband looked in clothes, whatever he was wearing—or when she was undressing him out of them. Yes... the latter was even better, but even in Avalon, people would frown if he walked the streets naked. The thought alone made her shiver a little, remembering what they had done just last night. Her smile immediately widened a little, feeling that the room was fresh enough, that the cold wind had chased their love-filled scent out of it.

"You will be careful," she said after closing the window, "yes?"

"I am just heading to the bakery to bring something home for breakfast." Pion chuckled as he looked at her.

"You know what I meant."

"I know, I know." Pion nodded, stepping close to her and giving her a small peck on her lips, "But we still have a day before I leave."

"I know, I know." She nodded, her smile remaining unchanged, "It is important. But as a wife, I can worry about you, can't I?"

"Yes, you can. And it is important. The Kingdom of Markoth is rebuilding, and I can't lie, I am a bit excited to see a different part of the world, too, bringing the Sovereign's influence to their land."

"Lucky them!" Matilda chuckled, finishing her coffee. "They will get a dashing star officer, a famous celebrity within Avalon's army, to help them get back to their feet! I just hope this mission won't take longer than I fear it actually will."

Pion didn't answer right away. Instead, he just looked into her eyes, knowing how she felt, and also knew that he was more mature than to make an actual fuss about it. She understood his and her own obligations... she really did. But she was still his wife, someone who indeed loved him. And would miss him. Dearly.

"I'll write," he said at last. "Every week."

"Hopefully, it will arrive faster than General Oleg's letter." Matilda looked up at him, eyes warm as she squeezed his hand, her thumb tracing a scar across his knuckles. "I know," she murmured. Then, softer, she added, "But if you miss another of Henrik's birthdays, I'll go and complain with the Sovereign himself."

"That... I would love to see it." Pion grinned, making his wife laugh, too.

As if sensing being called from the hallway, the sound of hurried boots and a soft scuffle echoed. A moment later, their twelve-year-old son, Henrik, burst in—his school satchel half-buckled, thrown around his shoulders, and his shirt only partially tucked into his pants, ready for adventure.

"You are up? Good! I was afraid you would sleep in! I'm all prepared for the day!" he announced with all the energy in the world. With a head looking like a bird's nest but eyes glowing with happiness, it was hard not to smile looking at him, "You didn't forget, did you? You both promised that we will spend the day together before Dad goes on another mission! And that we will do what I want!"

"Don't worry, neither I nor your mum forgot it!" Pion crouched to ruffle his son's hair, making an even bigger mess out of it. "I was just about to head out to buy something for breakfast. Bread is best when it's still warm; want to come, kiddo?"

"Of course!" Henrik puffed out his chest. "I've already memorized the route to the best bakery near us like a good strategist would. I can lead you to it faster than any other scout!"

"Then why are you two still in the barracks?" Matilda interrupted them, her voice akin to a commander, "On the double soldiers! By the time you get back, this general here will whip up something to go with fresh bread~!"

"Sir, yes, Sir!" Henrik and Pion saluted as the father led his son out with a laugh. Matilda couldn't help but keep watching them disappear in the city, muttering under her breath a small prayer, thanking the Gods that she wasn't late... For that, she still had one last chance to give birth to a fourth son, this time from someone she loved. For the past twelve years, since Henrik was born, she felt as if she was a young teenager... and for more than that, from the day she learned she was pregnant, no wine bottle did call out for her.

...

....

.....

In the home of the Prime Minister of Avalon, the morning was a bit different than how it played out inside Pion and Matilda's house.

At the moment, Merlin was standing still, lost in thoughts, his eyes glazed over, a look Elena knew very well... He was accessing the library in his head and flipping through that damned artifact that probably was the reason why her husband's seed was so... lazy. Worse... for some gods-be-damned reason, his socks were, at this particular moment, on fire.

“Merlin,” Elena called out, quite calmly despite the glowing orange blaze inside their home, standing in the doorway to their living room, “you’ve set the rug ablaze. Again.”

"Eh, ah? Oh!" His eyes returned from wherever they were, blinking them rapidly as he noticed the change and the two formations circling above his feet. “It’s a perfectly contained conflagration. Harmless! I was pondering about some methods that we could use monster blood to allow our soldiers to warm their bodies and won't be affected by the cold... But for now, it seems I am not doing it right... It is hard to bring non-magical applications with runes to the desired effects when I can cast them naturally. It is like trying to stumble intentionally when you can run perfectly.”

"I don't think our soldiers would be happy if your method of warming them up means they set themselves on fire." Elena grunted, “In fact, I am also unhappy about it. You’re going to burn this place down before breakfast,” she muttered, though there was no real heat behind her words, so to speak.

"Um... I... Understand..." He mumbled, finally canceling it. It was too obvious, just by looking at him, that he didn't intend to cast it in the first place; his subconscious simply acted according to his thoughts. “Technically, statistically speaking," Merlin continued in a hurry, "I’ve only ever burned anything down, only once. And that was because of an unforeseen consequence of spilling a highly reactive case of monster-blood onto an already activated, complex sequence of a triple-formation.”

“That is why we have the rule of no magic inside closed spaces, aren't we?”

“Ugh...” He stood there, stiff, not knowing what to really say, as it was a rule that Leon told him to follow. No, he made sure Merlin swore to follow.

In reality, it happened inside the university's main grounds, when Merlin's demonstration went... too far. One freshly built laboratory was gone in the consequent flames, something that Merlin couldn't live down, not until this day... even if nobody brought it up for the past seven years.

Elena looked at him for a long moment, finally letting out a sigh, seeing her husband act like a little boy again, even after all these years. Well, she was fine with it, as he usually only acted like this when they were alone... so it wasn’t irritation in her eyes that Merlin could see. Nor exasperation, either. It was that familiar, wry love that came from being together with him for so long.

“Come, I prepared breakfast. Time to dig in!"

"Oh? It is morning already?" he flinched, finally realizing that he was in that 'trance' of his for longer than he wanted to. Another night passed... and he didn't fulfill his husbandly-duty once again. "Did I make you wait... again?"

"Don't worry about it, I’m not hungry,” she said, waving the question. Which was true.

But she’d also been sick an hour earlier, which was the cause of it. She was enduring it quietly, alone, while he was still muttering to himself in the study about something she couldn't comprehend, having a talk with himself, quite literally.

But it was not a sickness she was troubled by. Nor one that scared her. No, it was the opposite because, besides these returning morning sicknesses, she also hadn’t bled. She should’ve, eight days ago, in fact.

So, even without visiting Mikan, she already knew that, after all these years, she was finally pregnant.

She’d known the moment she first woke up to the feeling, pale and breathless, hands trembling, holding their toilet's edge, reaching it at the last moment. At first, she’d dared not hope. Maybe it was just something... else. An actual sickness. But, when everything finally clicked, she had cried alone, just for a moment. Just for herself, away from Merlin because she knew her husband wouldn't know what to do with her crying. He would probably be scared to death... or something. Maybe even cast an emergency spell, which would... best not to think about it, she decided.

But she will have to tell him soon. And she couldn't wait to see his reaction.

“Elena?" He asked, jolting her out of her stupor, noticing that her husband was standing before her, looking at her questioningly. Even he caught that something was off today. Thinking back... it has been weird for a few days now.

“Merlin.”

“Yes?”

“I’m pregnant.”

There was silence. The best way to do it was to just say it simply. She watched his eyes, but she saw no shock or bubbling magical runes, anything getting ready to explode out of him. There was just a kind of stunned pause as he stood frozen, one arm halfway reaching out to touch her. Then, his eyes slowly blinked once, then twice, then six times in quick succession.

“…That’s funny,” he said at last. “I thought you said—”

“I did.”

“You said you were—”

“I know.”

His mouth opened. Closed. He raised a finger to say something... but then he closed his mouth again. Then he turned in a slow, perfect circle, looked at the ceiling, then the floor, then down at her belly, then down at his own crotch. Then back at her face.

“You’re sure?”

“I’ve had time to learn my body, Merlin. I am sure. Hells, I was born with this body... I know it better than you do.”

He started to say something, but it came out as three to seven words being mushed together into one unintelligible abomination. Then he burst out laughing—half joy, half disbelief, and more than a little madness. With a strength she never knew he had in him, Merlin lifted her into his arms and spun her despite her protesting, laughing shriek.

“We’re having a child? A child?! I can do that?!” he asked, eyes sparkling.

“I am doing it, not you! Well, okay, it is a group effort. I'll give you that much." She replied with pursed lips, "Now put me down before I get sick on your shirt!”

"Oh, yes, yes... yes!" He stopped and did so as she ordered. Gently, almost reverently.

And then he knelt in front of her and pressed his forehead to her stomach as if listening for the heartbeat that was still impossible to discern, of course.

"You won't feel it yet."

“I may! Elena…” he whispered. “I think... I already do.”

"What?!" she jumped, and now it was her turn to be shocked and surprised.

"It is for sure!" Merlin grinned, still kneeling before her, "I can sense life within you; it resonates with my magic... Um, um... Avalon will have another great mage for its future generations!"