[Fic][Round 50] Pillow Talk, Rating: G
Author: Isha
Title: Pillow Talk
Ships/Characters: Gwendal/Anissina
Word Count: 1,090
Rating: G
Any Warnings: Fluff ahoy!
Prompt being used: Word prompt: pillows
Timeline: Very post Season 3
Disclaimer: I own none of these very entertaining characters, please don’t sue me. Thank you.
Part of my Gwendal/Anissina series, but can be read as a stand alone.
~
There had to be a more wearying way of spending an evening, she was sure of it.
Unfortunately, though, she couldn’t think of any of them right now.
And really, was it absolutely necessary for the woman to ramble on about ‘the family’ and their importance in Shin Makoku, and a hundred other utterly pointless things?
Anissina shifted in her seat, and tried again-unsuccessfully-to pay attention to whatever Gwendal’s aunt was saying.
It didn’t help that she was six months pregnant, and very uncomfortable.
Thankfully, Lady Brischela chose that moment to conclude, and a maid appeared at Anissina’s elbow to refill her glass of water for the toast. It irked her that she could no longer enjoy wine with the rest of the ladies, and she tamped down her irritation as she picked up her glass.
‘You are enjoying yourself, aren’t you, Lady Anissina?’
She looked up to see Nicola looking at her worriedly. ‘Of course,’ she lied, giving the other woman a smile. Nicola had thought she was doing something nice for her, there was no need to take out her frustrations on the woman. ‘Of course I’m enjoying myself,’ she repeated, stronger this time. ‘Thank you so much for arranging this baby shower for me.’
‘I’m glad,’ Nicola said with a relieved smile. ‘When Hube heard I was planning this, he wasn’t very encouraging,’ she went on, frowning darkly at the memory. ‘He said you wouldn’t like it, but of course he was wrong. Who wouldn’t want to celebrate the birth of their first child, I said, and I was right, wasn’t I? I remember when I-’
Nicola went off on another one of the ‘pregnancy stories’, and Anissina heaved a short, sharp sigh that went unnoticed. It seemed that the past six months had been defined by someone who wasn’t even born yet. And the way the others went on about this child, she sometimes feared the rest of her life would be defined entirely by her motherhood.
It was especially worse with the old matriarchs from Gwendal’s family. They were so sure she carried ‘the von Voltaire heir’ that she was actually afraid of having a daughter. The poor thing would be crushed by the weight of the collective disappointment she would have to bear.
Lady Celi had been a little better about it-perhaps because they had known each other for so long, and she was able to fathom something of Anissina’s feelings on the matter-but to the assorted cousins of the von Voltaire family, all that mattered was that she was the woman who would give birth to Gwendal’s child. Women she had gotten along with perfectly well before the pregnancy-talking about politics and art and even gardening-would now speak of nothing else but babies and mothering tips and baby names.
It was enough to drive anyone up the wall.
Which was why when she was finally able to retire for the night, Anissina was an explosion just waiting to happen.
Unfortunately for him, Gwendal was not aware of this.
‘Did you have fun?’
It had been a simple question, asked absently as he had shrugged off his uniform and gotten into bed next to her, but to Anissina, it had been the last straw.
A good fifteen minutes of ranting later, Gwendal blinked as she wound down with: ‘-and in all this, no one really cares what I think! I realise that your family is excited that they may finally have a boy in the family after five generations, but sometimes I feel that all I am to them is a walking womb! I suspect they wouldn’t have cared who you married, as long as you had a child! The only thing they see when they look at me is the woman carrying the von Voltaire heir! And another thing, why can’t your daughter be your heir? You know women can do anything that men can do!’
Finally done, Anissina crossed her arms, and turned away from him on the bed. Gwendal stared at her back for a moment, watching as she made vague sounds of annoyance and fidgeted, trying to become comfortable. Silently, he reached under the bed, rooting around for what he had put there only that moring. Perhaps this would be the best time to give it to her…
When Anissina rolled over again, he took the opportunity to quickly place it under her back. ‘Gwendal, what-’ Her angry voice faded as her tired back relaxed against the little pillow, and the scowl on her face cleared.
‘I saw that you were having problems getting to sleep,’ he said softly, leaning forward to brush her hair out of her face. She looked up at him at that, the anger gone, now just looking scared and nervous and anxious.
‘Gwendal, I love you, but this child cannot define the rest of my life,’ she told him seriously. ‘You know that, right?’
He almost rolled his eyes at that, but restrained himself, though only just. ‘Anissina,’ he said, trying to inject some patience into his tone, ‘I know that. Believe it or not, I did not marry you just so that you could provide my family with an heir. And I do not expect you to change anything about yourself just because you are having our child.’
‘But your aunt said-’
‘I am going to ask you a very simple question here, Anissina. Do you see my aunt here with us now?’
‘Gwendal-’
‘No. You do not,’ he went on, overriding her. ‘My aunt is not part of this marriage, Anissina. I am. And when I say that I do not want you to become something you are not-not if you don't want to-I want you to believe me.’
She looked up at him for a long moment before finally giving him a tentative smile, the fear disppearing and her eyes clearing. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said softly, snuggling as close to him as she could. ‘I don’t know why I was even worried.’
‘Good. Don’t forget it.’
~
Two years later, when Gwendal received a note from Anissina, Gunter didn’t understand why he smiled, before dropping everything to rush down to the lab that he normally avoided.
He picked up the piece of paper, but the words still made no sense to him, and he shrugged as he dropped it on the desk.
'I want my pillow to be blue, this time.’
~
A/N: Yes. Sappy. Still, thanks for reading! All comment and concrit is welcome! =)
Title: Pillow Talk
Ships/Characters: Gwendal/Anissina
Word Count: 1,090
Rating: G
Any Warnings: Fluff ahoy!
Prompt being used: Word prompt: pillows
Timeline: Very post Season 3
Disclaimer: I own none of these very entertaining characters, please don’t sue me. Thank you.
Part of my Gwendal/Anissina series, but can be read as a stand alone.
~
There had to be a more wearying way of spending an evening, she was sure of it.
Unfortunately, though, she couldn’t think of any of them right now.
And really, was it absolutely necessary for the woman to ramble on about ‘the family’ and their importance in Shin Makoku, and a hundred other utterly pointless things?
Anissina shifted in her seat, and tried again-unsuccessfully-to pay attention to whatever Gwendal’s aunt was saying.
It didn’t help that she was six months pregnant, and very uncomfortable.
Thankfully, Lady Brischela chose that moment to conclude, and a maid appeared at Anissina’s elbow to refill her glass of water for the toast. It irked her that she could no longer enjoy wine with the rest of the ladies, and she tamped down her irritation as she picked up her glass.
‘You are enjoying yourself, aren’t you, Lady Anissina?’
She looked up to see Nicola looking at her worriedly. ‘Of course,’ she lied, giving the other woman a smile. Nicola had thought she was doing something nice for her, there was no need to take out her frustrations on the woman. ‘Of course I’m enjoying myself,’ she repeated, stronger this time. ‘Thank you so much for arranging this baby shower for me.’
‘I’m glad,’ Nicola said with a relieved smile. ‘When Hube heard I was planning this, he wasn’t very encouraging,’ she went on, frowning darkly at the memory. ‘He said you wouldn’t like it, but of course he was wrong. Who wouldn’t want to celebrate the birth of their first child, I said, and I was right, wasn’t I? I remember when I-’
Nicola went off on another one of the ‘pregnancy stories’, and Anissina heaved a short, sharp sigh that went unnoticed. It seemed that the past six months had been defined by someone who wasn’t even born yet. And the way the others went on about this child, she sometimes feared the rest of her life would be defined entirely by her motherhood.
It was especially worse with the old matriarchs from Gwendal’s family. They were so sure she carried ‘the von Voltaire heir’ that she was actually afraid of having a daughter. The poor thing would be crushed by the weight of the collective disappointment she would have to bear.
Lady Celi had been a little better about it-perhaps because they had known each other for so long, and she was able to fathom something of Anissina’s feelings on the matter-but to the assorted cousins of the von Voltaire family, all that mattered was that she was the woman who would give birth to Gwendal’s child. Women she had gotten along with perfectly well before the pregnancy-talking about politics and art and even gardening-would now speak of nothing else but babies and mothering tips and baby names.
It was enough to drive anyone up the wall.
Which was why when she was finally able to retire for the night, Anissina was an explosion just waiting to happen.
Unfortunately for him, Gwendal was not aware of this.
‘Did you have fun?’
It had been a simple question, asked absently as he had shrugged off his uniform and gotten into bed next to her, but to Anissina, it had been the last straw.
A good fifteen minutes of ranting later, Gwendal blinked as she wound down with: ‘-and in all this, no one really cares what I think! I realise that your family is excited that they may finally have a boy in the family after five generations, but sometimes I feel that all I am to them is a walking womb! I suspect they wouldn’t have cared who you married, as long as you had a child! The only thing they see when they look at me is the woman carrying the von Voltaire heir! And another thing, why can’t your daughter be your heir? You know women can do anything that men can do!’
Finally done, Anissina crossed her arms, and turned away from him on the bed. Gwendal stared at her back for a moment, watching as she made vague sounds of annoyance and fidgeted, trying to become comfortable. Silently, he reached under the bed, rooting around for what he had put there only that moring. Perhaps this would be the best time to give it to her…
When Anissina rolled over again, he took the opportunity to quickly place it under her back. ‘Gwendal, what-’ Her angry voice faded as her tired back relaxed against the little pillow, and the scowl on her face cleared.
‘I saw that you were having problems getting to sleep,’ he said softly, leaning forward to brush her hair out of her face. She looked up at him at that, the anger gone, now just looking scared and nervous and anxious.
‘Gwendal, I love you, but this child cannot define the rest of my life,’ she told him seriously. ‘You know that, right?’
He almost rolled his eyes at that, but restrained himself, though only just. ‘Anissina,’ he said, trying to inject some patience into his tone, ‘I know that. Believe it or not, I did not marry you just so that you could provide my family with an heir. And I do not expect you to change anything about yourself just because you are having our child.’
‘But your aunt said-’
‘I am going to ask you a very simple question here, Anissina. Do you see my aunt here with us now?’
‘Gwendal-’
‘No. You do not,’ he went on, overriding her. ‘My aunt is not part of this marriage, Anissina. I am. And when I say that I do not want you to become something you are not-not if you don't want to-I want you to believe me.’
She looked up at him for a long moment before finally giving him a tentative smile, the fear disppearing and her eyes clearing. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said softly, snuggling as close to him as she could. ‘I don’t know why I was even worried.’
‘Good. Don’t forget it.’
~
Two years later, when Gwendal received a note from Anissina, Gunter didn’t understand why he smiled, before dropping everything to rush down to the lab that he normally avoided.
He picked up the piece of paper, but the words still made no sense to him, and he shrugged as he dropped it on the desk.
'I want my pillow to be blue, this time.’
~
A/N: Yes. Sappy. Still, thanks for reading! All comment and concrit is welcome! =)