Kismet was everything Carina had hoped it would be. A joy to perform, especially with the people she had auditioned with in September. A little sad, too, knowing that this was likely her last hurrah. With only a couple more performances to go, that sense of sadness was growing, but she was trying her best to keep it contained. The last thing she wanted was for Arandir to worry about her even more than he did already. To everyone's amusement, her bump had been perfectly well-behaved until today, when she'd woken up to a bump significantly bigger than it had been the night before. Thankfully, Miranda had been on hand to work her costuming magic, or this evening's performance would have been ludicrously uncomfortable.
Still, it was nice to get home. Well, to their apartment in the city. Home wasn't where they would be until Sunday, but this had been home for two years before that. It was still familiar and comfortable, and that was what they both needed after being on stage for three hours.
While Anarven was home now, it was nice to get away from all the responsibilities there and relax with Carina at the apartment near the theater they'd called home for two years before joining her parents at their woodland village. It was bittersweet to be leaving the theater and the life they'd built together behind to start a new one at Anarven, and though Arandir didn't think he'd miss the theater so much, he knew he would miss the peace and quiet and solitude of their first home.
Carina let out a weary sigh as they closed the front door, shutting themselves into their own private space for the night. "I think I was about half an inch from flashing the entire auditorium after Bangles tonight," she laughed, one hand rubbing her back absently as she tossed her keys and bag down on the nearest surface.
He locked the door, more out of habit than necessity, though one could never be too careful, and came up behind her to wrap his arms around her waist and brush a kiss to the side of her neck. It had taken some time, but in the two years of knowing her, he had become less shy in recent days, especially since learning she was carrying her child. It was time to grow up, leave the tragedy of his childhood behind, and become a man capable of carrying for a wife and child, as well as his people. Though he might never be a king, he was content with the life he had chosen. "You were amazing, as always," he told her, his fingers moving to touch the bump at her waist that almost seemed to have popped overnight.
She smiled at his unconscious affection, leaning back into his embrace as her hands settled over his, gently guiding his palm to just the right place. A moment later, a firm nudge pushed against his palm from inside, their child making it known that they were just as much a part of this hug as the parents were. "You were wonderful," she told Aran softly. "I've always liked Stranger in Paradise, but the way you sing it sends tingles down my spine. It's achingly beautiful."
"Is that the baby?" he asked, distracted by that push against his hand for a moment, despite her compliment, which always made him flush with embarrassed pleasure. "The Caliph is not such a hard part to play, especially when his beloved is played by you," he said, smiling with affection.
She laughed softly at his distraction, the sound making the baby push harder against his hand. "Yes, that is the baby," she assured him. "Being gentle this evening, which is a nice change. Apparently he, she is going to get rougher with me the closer we get."
"It's probably a good thing we are leaving the theater then," he remarked, knowing how demanding the theater could be and how much the pregnancy would still demand of her. "I intend to spoil you rotten, until the baby is born," he said, moving around to take her by the hands and lead her to the couch, where she could sit and relax.
Happy to be lead, she sank down onto the couch, pulling him down with her. "I don't need to be spoiled, Aran," she promised him softly, carefully not touching the subject of leaving the theater. "I just need to be loved, that's all."
Instead of sinking down beside her, he moved to kneel in front of her, almost as if he was worshiping at her feet. "I do love you, Carina. I will love you forever," he assured her, though this was not the first time she was hearing that from him, nor was it likely to be the last. "I do not know what would have become of me, if not for you," he told her kissing each of her hands in turn.
"You wouldn't have made it through that first winter," she pointed out with a fond smile, holding her breath so she could lean down and kiss him without struggling too much. "I love you, Aran. Anything you need, I will give you, always."
"All I could ever want or need is you," he assured her, leaning close so that she didn't to bend so far forward to meet his lips. There may have been a time when that was not as true as it was now, but now that his people were safe, he could focus on being a husband and father. He smiled into her kiss, almost playfully as their lips parted. "Every night when I sing as the Caliph, it is as if I am singing to you."
"You are singing to me," she reminded him, her tone just as playful as his. She laughed softly, leaning back before she ran out of breath entirely. "Although I still have no idea how Hajj is supposed to be able to find Marsinah's true love with the dreadful description she gives him. The first time that was pointed out to me, I nearly giggled in the middle of the song!"
"It is only a story, a'mael," he pointed out with a smile. Pulling away from her so that he could help her get comfortable, his hands moved to her ankle to relieve her of her shoes and gently rub her feet. If she didn't think he was going to spoil her, she was very mistaken.
"Oh, but it's so funny to imagine the trouble trying to search for him with descriptions like eyes like dawn's promising skies and lips like honey fresh from the comb," she giggled, groaning in tender relief as he tended to her feet. How he knew just where she was most aching was beyond her to guess, but she wasn't complaining.
"You don't think I have eyes like dawn's promising skies?" he asked, actually batting his eyes playfully at her. The longer they were together, the more comfortable he was growing in her presence, allowing her to see a side of him rarely seen. He did have blue eyes, but that was laying it on a bit thick.
"No," she told him quite firmly, though still laughing at the idea of that. "Nor do they look like petals on a pool drifting, whatever that means." She tugged at him, wanting him up on the couch beside her to cuddle in close for a while before they dragged themselves off to bed.
"You do not think my kisses are like strange spice from the south ....wherever the south is ....and honey through the comb sifting?" he teased further. He finished with the massaging of her feet and moved to settle himself beside her, resting one hand lightly against the child that was growing inside her. "Do you think it is a son or a daughter?" he asked, aware that there were ways to find out, but unsure if either of them wanted to know just yet.
Still, it was nice to get home. Well, to their apartment in the city. Home wasn't where they would be until Sunday, but this had been home for two years before that. It was still familiar and comfortable, and that was what they both needed after being on stage for three hours.
While Anarven was home now, it was nice to get away from all the responsibilities there and relax with Carina at the apartment near the theater they'd called home for two years before joining her parents at their woodland village. It was bittersweet to be leaving the theater and the life they'd built together behind to start a new one at Anarven, and though Arandir didn't think he'd miss the theater so much, he knew he would miss the peace and quiet and solitude of their first home.
Carina let out a weary sigh as they closed the front door, shutting themselves into their own private space for the night. "I think I was about half an inch from flashing the entire auditorium after Bangles tonight," she laughed, one hand rubbing her back absently as she tossed her keys and bag down on the nearest surface.
He locked the door, more out of habit than necessity, though one could never be too careful, and came up behind her to wrap his arms around her waist and brush a kiss to the side of her neck. It had taken some time, but in the two years of knowing her, he had become less shy in recent days, especially since learning she was carrying her child. It was time to grow up, leave the tragedy of his childhood behind, and become a man capable of carrying for a wife and child, as well as his people. Though he might never be a king, he was content with the life he had chosen. "You were amazing, as always," he told her, his fingers moving to touch the bump at her waist that almost seemed to have popped overnight.
She smiled at his unconscious affection, leaning back into his embrace as her hands settled over his, gently guiding his palm to just the right place. A moment later, a firm nudge pushed against his palm from inside, their child making it known that they were just as much a part of this hug as the parents were. "You were wonderful," she told Aran softly. "I've always liked Stranger in Paradise, but the way you sing it sends tingles down my spine. It's achingly beautiful."
"Is that the baby?" he asked, distracted by that push against his hand for a moment, despite her compliment, which always made him flush with embarrassed pleasure. "The Caliph is not such a hard part to play, especially when his beloved is played by you," he said, smiling with affection.
She laughed softly at his distraction, the sound making the baby push harder against his hand. "Yes, that is the baby," she assured him. "Being gentle this evening, which is a nice change. Apparently he, she is going to get rougher with me the closer we get."
"It's probably a good thing we are leaving the theater then," he remarked, knowing how demanding the theater could be and how much the pregnancy would still demand of her. "I intend to spoil you rotten, until the baby is born," he said, moving around to take her by the hands and lead her to the couch, where she could sit and relax.
Happy to be lead, she sank down onto the couch, pulling him down with her. "I don't need to be spoiled, Aran," she promised him softly, carefully not touching the subject of leaving the theater. "I just need to be loved, that's all."
Instead of sinking down beside her, he moved to kneel in front of her, almost as if he was worshiping at her feet. "I do love you, Carina. I will love you forever," he assured her, though this was not the first time she was hearing that from him, nor was it likely to be the last. "I do not know what would have become of me, if not for you," he told her kissing each of her hands in turn.
"You wouldn't have made it through that first winter," she pointed out with a fond smile, holding her breath so she could lean down and kiss him without struggling too much. "I love you, Aran. Anything you need, I will give you, always."
"All I could ever want or need is you," he assured her, leaning close so that she didn't to bend so far forward to meet his lips. There may have been a time when that was not as true as it was now, but now that his people were safe, he could focus on being a husband and father. He smiled into her kiss, almost playfully as their lips parted. "Every night when I sing as the Caliph, it is as if I am singing to you."
"You are singing to me," she reminded him, her tone just as playful as his. She laughed softly, leaning back before she ran out of breath entirely. "Although I still have no idea how Hajj is supposed to be able to find Marsinah's true love with the dreadful description she gives him. The first time that was pointed out to me, I nearly giggled in the middle of the song!"
"It is only a story, a'mael," he pointed out with a smile. Pulling away from her so that he could help her get comfortable, his hands moved to her ankle to relieve her of her shoes and gently rub her feet. If she didn't think he was going to spoil her, she was very mistaken.
"Oh, but it's so funny to imagine the trouble trying to search for him with descriptions like eyes like dawn's promising skies and lips like honey fresh from the comb," she giggled, groaning in tender relief as he tended to her feet. How he knew just where she was most aching was beyond her to guess, but she wasn't complaining.
"You don't think I have eyes like dawn's promising skies?" he asked, actually batting his eyes playfully at her. The longer they were together, the more comfortable he was growing in her presence, allowing her to see a side of him rarely seen. He did have blue eyes, but that was laying it on a bit thick.
"No," she told him quite firmly, though still laughing at the idea of that. "Nor do they look like petals on a pool drifting, whatever that means." She tugged at him, wanting him up on the couch beside her to cuddle in close for a while before they dragged themselves off to bed.
"You do not think my kisses are like strange spice from the south ....wherever the south is ....and honey through the comb sifting?" he teased further. He finished with the massaging of her feet and moved to settle himself beside her, resting one hand lightly against the child that was growing inside her. "Do you think it is a son or a daughter?" he asked, aware that there were ways to find out, but unsure if either of them wanted to know just yet.