Chapter 203

Pregnant. Hydrangea was pregnant.

Bastian sat on the stairs that led to the helm. He breathed out a slow breath. Pregnant. He thinned his lips as he tried to accept the fact as reality.

He shrugged, it wasn't that big of a deal. They were just going to be parents. The thought of Hydrangea being a mother, a mother to his child made him smile almost giddily. She would be the most incredible mother.

He wished he could ask his mother for help on this matter. He hated that Hydrangea was so ill all the time, and that she always looked so sorry for it.

"Captain?"

He looked up and saw Hugh watching him with a hint of curiosity in his expression. Bastian looked back at his boots and sighed. Hugh had a son. Maybe he would have some advice on this.

"Hydrangea's pregnant."

"Oh, congratulations captain."

He nodded and chuckled lightly, "Did you…" He shifted and looked out at the swells of the ocean.

"When my wife told me that she was pregnant, I told her I was the happiest man on earth. And I am." Hugh said.

Bastian nodded, he was truly happy.

"What can I do for her?" He asked standing and facing the man, "She's ill all the time and she's going to need help, right?"

He saw amusement enter Hugh's eyes but he ignored it. "Yes, she will need help. My wife often said her back and feet hurt. And she'll want the strangest things…" He trailed off with a faint smile on his face, "She once wanted to eat only crab. She would eat it like a starved animal." He laughed and Bastian realized he'd never spoken to his person casually.

"But she's going to be tired and hungry. My wife was very emotional I found, and she's never been an emotional woman."

"Mine would yell at me for days on end." They both looked to Rodas who must've been listening in on their conversation. Bastian hadn't known the man was married. The helmsman kept his gaze level as he continued, "And after the yelling she would cry for hours on end. But, she was carrying a girl."

Bastian nodded slowly. He felt unsure and he hated it. He knew next to nothing about pregnancy. All he knew was the cause of it, and that the woman's stomach swelled and after a period of time the baby would be born. And apparently the mother would experience nausea and anger and crying. And back pain.

He looked up and caught Hugh and Rodas sharing a glance.

He blew out a breath and walked down the steps and to the galley. He stopped and leaned against the door with a smile. Hydrangea was singing. He hadn't heard her sing… since the night they'd met under unfortunate circumstances. Her black hair was in a bun tied at the nape of her neck with a few traitorous tendrils curling out of it. She looked as though she'd spent the entire day in the kitchen; parts of her dress were decorated with flour and her face had some crumbs on it.

He watched as she decorated a cake—that he'd guessed was for him. There was always celebrations held when his birthday came around in the island. But he was looking forward to sharing it with his wife.

His pregnant wife. He smiled and pushed off the wall. She looked up when his boots alerted his presence to him.

Her bright smile quickly turned to anger, "You can't be in here. Don't look at your cake." She stretched out her hands to cover his eyes and scrambled to stand in front of the cake.

He chuckled and inhaled deeply, taking in the sweet scents of baking, along with the savoury scent of a stew hanging over a fire. "It smells delicious." He leaned closer and placed his hands on the counter behind her.

Brushing off the crumbs from her face she laughed, and said, "Thank you." He noticed she looked pale instead of flushed from the heat.

He frowned, "Are you feeling alright?"

She nodded and visibly swallowed, "Yes. It's warm in here and smells utterly terrible. No offence to Balta, but I can't breathe."

"Well then you should take a break." He didn't smell anything, but she'd been overreacting to many smells that he didn't find offensive.

She shook her head, "I already told you; I'll take a break tomorrow. Right now, I am making you a cake. Now leave so I can finish it."

He shook his head with a smile, sending bits of his hair flying into his eyes. Hydrangea had done her best to cut it, but it was roughly done still and irritated him every so often.

He returned topside and sighed. Two more months of sailing. This was why sailing was not his favourite of activities. Maybe he was lazy, but he personally did not feel that any hobby should require this much work. He could do the work, yes. He could plot a course, find his position and steer the ship. But he didn't find it relaxing.

Reading. Reading was what he found relaxing. He'd pulled out his old stash of books for Hydrangea to read while she stayed in their cabin.

He frowned as the day drew to a close. The winds were becoming fiercer and the feeling that worse things were to come grew in him. His life had been going well as of late, and it only made sense that a storm was on the horizon.

He bade goodnight to Rodas and turned in for the night. All thoughts of it being his birthday having left him. Hydrangea greeted him with a hug and a kiss, and a cake.

"I'm sorry if it's not like the ones you're used to. Baking has never been my strong suit. Rose took over baking at quite a young age and so I'm a bit rusty."

Bastian kissed her temple before sitting down at the table, "It looks perfect."

She smiled joyously, "Well, before Rose took over, baking the cakes was my responsibility. I tried to make each child a cake for their birthdays. Sometimes I'd have to compromise, but they were always happy with the turnout."

He nodded and gestured the question of if he could cut the cake. "Oh, oh yes, go ahead." She laughed and he began to slice into the heavy desert. It had nuts and some dried fruit inside of it. It was glazed with honey and topped with a few more nuts and dried fruit.

He placed the slice on his copper plate and began eating it. "This is delicious, Hydrangea. Aren't you going to eat?"

Her lips stretched into a tight smile, "No… I don't think it would sit well with me."

He gave her an apologetic expression, "Do you have any idea of when… the…"

"The morning sickness should go away after awhile, I think." She answered. "I don't remember my mother being ill for the majority of her pregnancies. But the pain might not."

"Pain?" His eyes widened and she gave him a look that he couldn't discern.

"Yes, Bastian. Pain." She pointed to her chest and he opened his mouth in understanding.

"Ah, right." He grimaced. She'd said they'd hurt, and occasionally she'd start to cry because of it.

"I don't know when it will go away, but I'm not leaving this cabin until it does." She says down on the chair across from him. He grabbed a second slice of cake.

"Why not?" He asked as he stuffed another chunk of cake into his mouth.

"Because I can't wear the strap of fabric that I've been wearing, and I'm not going anywhere without it."

He nodded and hastily finished the slice of cake before standing and preparing for bed. As soon as they were beneath the covers he pulled her close to him. She hissed in pain, "Careful."

"Right, right. Sorry." He muttered. She fell asleep soon after and he kept his eyes on the wall across from him, his mind playing through what their future would look like. So many images and scenarios flew through his mind, of if he had a daughter or son.

He didn't really care, he discovered. If it was a girl, she would be just as beautiful as her mother and likely have the same temperament. A son would be troubling; he loved the idea of raising a son to be upright and training him to fight and sail and to lead their country. But… the thought that his son could take after him was where the notion became troubling.

His thoughts settled and slumber welcomed him. The weeks went by with the skies displaying more and more danger. The winds were picking up and the waves were becoming bigger. The Venerable was ready for when the storm would hit them, he just hoped the men were.