Coven Two...Three... Four

Agatha’s POV

Agatha wrapped her cloak tighter around her, the scent of decay wrapped around her in its warm embrace, calming her nerves, but making her heart flutter. She froze for a second, glancing down at the cloak, taking in its ruffles lacing through– the lines subtly like the intricate pattern of bark of a tree. She studied it for a moment longer, before noticing the way it seemed like the fabrique was thinner around her waist, almost as if it was stretched. She cocked her head, not understanding it until the sweet scent of pine hit her. A knowing smile creeped into her lips, a wicked curve that expressed a fondness solely for its true owner. The cloak was Rio’s. She must have gotten them mixed up. She continued on, the dry leaves crunching underfoot as the silver dots rained down around her. 

Her mind raced back to her wife, to Lady Death– to their unborn child. She couldn’t stop the way her heart fluttered and pounded all at once, the sensation almost as strong as it was when she felt Nicky move when she carried him, but this was slightly different. She wasn’t the one carrying their child. Her wife was, and somehow, her eyes grew more tender at the thought of her. Rio was growing more beautiful by the minute. The way her body had intricate life and death: the gleam of her bones contrasting with the flesh of her stomach. As much as anyone else would find this unsettling, Agatha could barely contain herself every time she saw her. She knew she had too, though. Her wife was well pregnant, for the lack of better words. Every move Agatha made had to be right or it would end up with Rio lashing out at her. She didn’t mind, in fact, most of the kills she had done while pregnant with Nicky was because of her own mood swings. 

Agatha’s eyebrows creased at the thought of her pregnancy. She had been all alone. Rio had popped up now and then, but Agatha always pushed her away. She wouldn’t let her wife do the same. She would be there. She had to be there for her. Being pregnant was hard enough, let alone to live a nomad life with the Salem Seven hunting her, other witch hunters, and her own kind always looking for a reason to kill her. She never had anyone who would rub her swollen feet, to draw calming bathes, nor fetch her cravings. Agatha would do it all for Rio. Rio would have the most relaxed pregnancy if she had anything to do with it. 

Deep down, they both knew how scared Rio was about it. It was another human thing, one thing they both thought impossible. They really had to stop doing that. Everytime they thought the impossible, the impossible would happen, but Agatha wouldn’t change it for the world. This child wouldn’t be ripped away from them. They were already dead. They were entities, equals in Death. Nothing would happen… at least Agatha latched on to that hope. If she didn’t, she knew she would crumble. What happened to Nicky, wouldn’t happen to their next child. The child would be here to stay. 

The wind whipped at her face as she looked up, staring at the sign into the witches’ secteur. The last time she came here was a week ago where she convinced her former coven to help track down Evanora. She was surprised they listened, but part of her figured it was because Agatha was also a cosmic being now. The news spread throughout the realm, but no one had been able to track down the bitch. What mattered though, was that Rio, Nicky, their unborn child, and the balance were safe. Rio and her had scoured for any blip in the balance, the slightest tilt, but each time, it was merely a different soul who needed to be put back into place. Whatever her mother planned, it had to be focused on Agatha. 

The wolves flanked her as she moved through the houses, following the trails as the witches around her bowed. She didn’t give them a second glance, but fuck it felt amazing to have them at her feet. Agatha didn’t think she would ever get used to having these mortals before her, bowing to her, revering her– cosmic was just her size. Yet one… two witches haven’t shown their faces to her since her arrival. Part of her foolishly thought they might have. Afterall, one of them did die protecting her from Evanora Harkness. She knew she was here. She could feel it, but her sights were set on another, one she knew Rio liked very much– especially scaring her. She found her cottage on the outside of the city. It was small, but the exterior had crystals hung everywhere. She felt the wards, warning her off, but they were weak magic compared to what she wielded now. 

Agatha opened the door to the cottage not bothering to knock as she ducked her head, so her crown wouldn’t hit the crystals that hung there too. The room was almost the same as the shop’s. Candles covered the shelves, crystals and weaves hung in every corner. Books were scattered, but sitting before the hearth was a woman wrapped in a yellow knitted blanket, her silver hair pinned upon her head much like on the road. Lilia snapped her head up, her eyes narrowing at Agatha as they swept her form. 

“Oh no you don’t,” Lilia growled. “Beat it, Harkness!”

Agatha chuckled as the wolves around her snarled at the woman, causing her eyes to go wide, her rocking freezing. 

“You dare speak to her Lady like that, peasant-soul!” 

Agatha held her hand, silencing their snarls, “Wait outside. We will be fine.” 

The wolves hesitated only for a second before they turned to lay before the door. Agatha shut it behind them, allowing the silence to stretch between them as she approached, sitting in the other rocking chair. Lilia bored her gaze into her as Aagtha cocked her head, studying her.

“You know,” she drawled. “I thought you would be more holey– ya know, filled with holes, maybe even bleeding all over the floor.”

Lilia rolled her eyes, before her eyes casted into the fire, “I am surprised you even bothered to figure out how I died.” 

“Rio told me,” Agatha shrugged. 

Lilia snapped her head to her at the sound of her wife’s name, “Rio?” 

Agatha waved her hand, “Yes, yes, the great, formidable, Lady Death.” 

Lilia stared back at the fire, her voice quiet, “She was kinder than I expected her to be. What is she to you, Agatha? How are you” she gestured to her crown “this?”

“Oh, yes, that. Rio is my wife. Wouldn’t the cards tell you that?” Agatha turned her head, wondering why the divination witch wasn’t as kooky as before. 

Lilia visibly stiffened, her fingers tightening on the blanket, “If you are here to ask me to find Evanora Harkness, I can not.”

Agatha raised an eyebrow, “Are you telling me you are powerless, Lilia?” 

The divination remained quiet, her gaze lost back in the fire. It was enough of an answer, and for a moment, Agatha almost felt bad. She knew what it was like to lose her agency, having done so for three years, but she guessed it was because her time was up. The Lilia in the past was living her life over and over again. That Lilia wasn’t dead, she could constantly float through her lifetime without the understanding that in some part of that time, she was dead. 

“What do you want, Agatha? I know this isn’t a social calling.”

Agatha bit her lip for a moment, “I need a favor. Like it or not, we were once sisters in the craft, and well, you were a better sister than anyone in my first coven.”

She allowed her words to settle on the older witch’s ears before reluctantly continuing. Her voice was hesitant, almost a whisper. 

“And I trust you.”

At that, the older witch turned, her eyes squinting at her with uncertainty, but nonetheless, allowed her to continue. 

“You are old–”

“Way to start the pitch, Harkness.” 

“-and wise. You would have been a good maestra and I would like to offer that to you again.” 

Lilia’s eyes grew wide, “What exactly are you getting at here, Harkness? Who the hell would I teach?”

Agatha turned her own attention to the fire, unable to look her in the eye. She hadn’t told Rio where she was off to, but she would be home soon and there, Rio could meet Lilia again, and hopefully listen to her. Part of her hoped if she brought Lilia around her wife, her wife wouldn’t snap as hard. Plus, they needed another set of hands, at least for now. And today, she planned on spoiling Rio, and she couldn’t do that with a six-year-old demanding their constant attention. They were struggling and for once Agatha was ready to admit defeat. Their son was behind in writing, history, and maybe even his magic. They had a routine set for him, but ever since Rio’s pregnancy and now Evanora, all of that had been thrown at the window. Agatha and her barely sat down anymore in the library to go over his magic, his writing, their history– their nights were instead filled with Rio’s mood swings, Rio being asleep, work, and Agatha tending to both of them. 

Her voice became soft, “You would be teaching my son.”

“You son? Agatha, I-I- how?”

She chewed her lip, not wanting to answer, because she didn’t know why Rio and her have been blessed like this. Instead, she snapped, “Are you in or are you out, Calderu?”

The divination witch swallowed, “Why are you asking me? Why can’t you teach him? Divine Mother, why can’t Rio teach him? She’s been around since the very beginning.” 

She sat up, “You wouldn’t be just teaching him, but he needs a schedule and someone to watch him other than the wolves when Rio and I can’t. Things have been busy between a few matters and the recent news of Evanora.” 

Lilia sat back, “Okay.” 

Agatha felt her heart rush in confusion, “Just like that? No catch?” 

The woman nodded, “Yes. I– well, things have been uneventful here. I don’t know why my soul is here, but maybe this is the path I need to take.” 

Agatha stood, clapping her hands together, “ Perfecto, ¡vámonos!” 

“Wait, now?” Lilia stood. 

A smirk tugged on her lips, “Yes, it’s best not to keep my wife waiting. You have to get her approval first before you meet our son.” 

She waved her fingers, putting Lilia in a similar outfit as she was in on the road, except colors of blue and green. Lilia grabbed her shawl, following the cosmic being out into the cold. 

“You haven’t told her?” 

Agatha shrugged. 

Rio’s POV

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap 

The sound of rushed steps echoed fainting across the tile of their kitchen. Rio was not herself. Everything in her body felt off. The power was still there, erratic but somehow stronger. It encased her stomach in a protective hum, but Rio couldn’t shake that her body was not her own. Something had taken over– life had taken over and no matter how Rio changed her form to make mortals more comfortable, death always clung to her. Her breath was caught though as her heart pounded.  Everything just felt so wrong. She felt wrong. She didn’t feel like Death. 

She rubbed her stomach, subconsciously, muttering to herself in a dead language, unable to feel at peace. Agatha had up and left without a word. They just had a conversation about hiding things and here was her wife– leaving her and Nicky again. Rio glanced towards the stairs, where she sent Nicky to read in their library for the time being. She sighed, knowing he still needed teaching, but she didn’t have the energy. Her movements were forced, but she couldn’t sit down, not when this strange sense threatened to drown her. 

The sound of multiple footsteps made her freeze, her magic conjuring a cloak to wrap around her, but the scent from it calmed her. Herbs and spices: cinnamon, pumpkin, lavender, eucalyptus… The cloak was her wife’s. She kept her back turned as two sets of footsteps came into their kitchen, pausing and spotting her. Rio tongued her cheek before turning and meeting the azure blues of her wife, before narrowing her gaze to the woman behind her. 

Lilia Calderu: oh how she adored scaring the divination witch on the Road, but why the fuck was she here?

“Rio,” Agatha pulled the hood of the cloak down, the crown vanishing with it. “You remember, Lilia.”

She cocked her head, debating whether to snap at Agatha or remain silent in the other soul’s presence, but she wouldn’t let the woman know that Death could be easily disrupted. 

“Yes, now why is she here, mi amor ?” she asked instead, forcing her voice to be hollow. 

Agatha took a step forward, “I asked her here to help with Nicky’s education. We have been falling behind–” 

“ I am perfectly fine to teach him, Agatha. He is our son–” 

“Rio,” Agatha breathed. “Please, my love. You know he is falling behind. Our schedule hasn’t been working. He needs a rhythm. I am not doing this just for us, but for him.”

Rio curled her lip, turning away so she could rub her stomach without the woman seeing. She wasn’t sure what Agatha had already said to the divination witch, but she knew that she would never say anything about Rio’s pregnancy without her permission. She thought for a moment. She was pissed, her fist tightening as her jaw clenched in between her tonguing her cheek. Unfortunately, her wife was right and she was just thinking about it before they came in. 

She heard the woman shift behind Agatha, “If I may ask, why now? Surely, Evanora’s disruption hasn’t fully knocked off your schedule. I can easily assume you and Lady Death have fared well without any help.” 

Rio’s lip twitched upward before turning to face them, the cloak still wrapped around her form, “You trust her, Agatha?” 

Her wife nodded. 

Rio regarded the woman again, seeing the gentleness within her soul. She remembered her maestra well. The woman was hard, but she could guide young hands easily in their craft. She had guided Lilia with precision and confidence, and when Lilia died, she remembered how at peace she was with her death before stepping through the veil. She was just like her maestra. 

“You will look after our son while we handle other matters, but you will remain in the library. You can determine how long his lessons are, but there will be moments where we just need you to watch him.”

Lilia didn’t back down, but it didn’t surprise Rio, “But why? If you want me to do this, I am going to need a little more.”

Rio casted her gaze to Agatha who simply nodded, playing with the pendant around her neck. 

She growled low, watching Lilia shiver before her, “You are not to tell another soul. If you do, I will make this your very own hell instead of the peace we have been offering. Do I make myself clear?” 

Lilia nodded. 

The wolves behind them blocked the door, curious if she were to try to run. Agatha moved as well, coming beside Rio to offer a silent support that Rio didn’t realize she needed. Taking a deep, unneeded breath, she allowed her hands to release their grip on the cloak. It fell away revealing Lady Death of all things in a pair of sweatpants and tank top that didn’t fully cover her stomach. Lilia’s eyes widened as she took a step back. She grasped at her own pendant, staring at Rio’s round stomach. 

Then her stare was lost. She was no longer looking at Rio as her head fell to the side. 

“The Star,” she gasped before snapping out of it, seeming to not even realize what she had said. 

Rio turned to her wife who raised an eyebrow at her. 

Neither of them bothered to tell Lilia as the woman visibly gulped, “You’re with child– pregnant. How?” 

Agatha smirked, “Well you see, Lilia, when two women love each other very much, they fu-” 

“Agatha,” Rio couldn’t help but chuckle seeing the scowl on the other woman’s face. 

Lilia raised her hands in defeat, “Okay, I don’t want to know. Now, where is this sweet boy?”

Rio raised her head, “He is in the library, but let me make myself very clear, Lilia. If you dare hurt one hair on his head, I don’t care if it is against balance, I will disintegrate your soul before you can even blink.” 

Her wife stepped between them, “I will introduce you. Mi amor, espera aquí. Tengo una pequeña sorpresa para ti. Hay más carbón debajo de la mesa de café en la sala y carne cruda en el refrigerador.” 

“Tu acento todavía apesta, mi amor,” Rio snapped, rubbing her stomach as the woman walked around her. 

“Yeah, yeah,” her wife muttered, leading the divination up the stairs. 

The moment they were out of earshot, Rio raced to the living room, finding a bucket full of coal. Her stomach growled at the sight of them. Her hand shot out, picking up the bucket and falling back into the warm cushions. Rio sighed as the first crack entered the room and the taste of brimstone and fire melted on her tongue. She had eaten coal before her pregnancy, not that she would tell her wife. Her wife was already amused at her eating flowers and there was no sense adding any more lore to it, but as she ate, Rio felt the sting of tears. They fell slowly, dripping off her chin and into the almost empty buck. She threw it down, covering her face with her hands as they wouldn’t stop. The world wouldn’t fucking stop.

She breathed out a heavy sob, not even sure why she was crying. Now, she wanted to scream, her anger burning bright within herself as she couldn’t shake it away. It wasn’t fair. She was Death. She wasn’t supposed to be the human one, the one carrying life, and yet the universe thrusted this upon her… well her wife did. She shook the tears and anger away, still trying to understand how their love burned so bright, it managed to defy the cosmos. 

A loud thump made her skin scrawl, her hand instinctively going to her stomach as she turned her attention to the glass coffee table in front of her. A book sat there that wasn’t there before. Dust covered the pink leather wrapped binding, the letters in large gold. Rio leaned forward making out the title: A Witch’s Womb: The Complete Guide from Conception to Birth. She raised her eyebrow at it, not understanding why it appeared before in a swirl of purple, another appeared beside it. It was worn, but a familiar sight. It was the book Agatha had read while with Nicky: Spells and Herbs for the Side Effects of Pregnancy. Two more appeared beside it: A Mother and Her Witchling and Step by Step Guide for A Healthy Birth. Then, the words blurred in front of her as a sudden warmth flooded her body. Her chest tightened, a rush of heat rose from her stomach to her face. She blinked rapidly, feeling her skin flush as if she were standing too close to a roaring fire… as if she were human.  

Swallowing hard, something wet formed on her brow, her breathing becoming shallow. Rio shifted uncomfortably, magicking out of her cloak and changing her sweats into a pair of shorts. It didn’t help. She shifted again, tugging at the hem of her shirt, trying to cool herself down. The room, once cool and soothing, now felt suffocating. She pushed her hair back, but the heat seemed to be only growing, like a fever that wouldn’t break. 

“What the hell…” she muttered under her breath, closing her eyes.

But all she could think about was the overwhelming sensation surging through her, her body betraying her in the most unpredictable way. Rio shifted again, slouching back into the couch as she fanned her body out. Her magic was unsettled, making the heat feel all the more intense. Something was wrong. Her hand rested on her stomach, hoping that whatever was happening would stop. She kept her eyes closed, focusing on her breathing as her heat rosied her cheeks. More beads of sweat dripped down the side of her face. Tears pricked her eyes, but they faded when something cool was pressing against her forehead.

Rio stiffened, her eyes fluttering open, but a hand was caressing her jaw from behind, “Easy there, my love. I got you.”

She felt her body relax back into the couch, allowing the cool wet thing on her head to spread through her. 

“Hold this to your head, I will be right back,” Agatha’s voice was soft, tender. 

It hit Rio differently for some reason, hearing all the love behind every word, every action– it was almost too much to handle. She held the tears, listening to her wife close cabinets and run water before her footsteps faded softly now on the carpet of the living room. The couch shifted with the weight of her sitting beside Rio and the rag was taken off of her head. She snapped her eyes open, watching her wife dipping the rag into a bowl of water. She saw the low violet hum of purple along with lavender and ice cubes inside. She closed her eyes again, listening to soft clicks of the cubes before water was trickling back into the bowl. The cloth was pressed against her forehead again, dabbing light before pressing to her cheeks and neck. 

She breathed in sharply, “What is happening to me?” 

The rag pulled away again, clicking and the trickling returning until the cool cloth was on her chest.

Her wife’s voice was soft, quiet, “It’s a side effect of pregnancy. A hot flash, they call it. You’re alright, my love. Your magic is reacting to the changes inside you. The baby’s energy is unpredictable, and your body is trying to adjust.” 

Rio shook her head slightly, her chest tightening. She wanted to scream. She wasn’t supposed to be feeling like this–so human…so vulnerable. She was a cosmic being, not some random mortal woman who could barely handle the life growing inside her. 

“I’m not supposed to feel like this. I shouldn’t be… I can’t be the one—”

A hand cradling her face cut her off. Her eyes snapped open, meeting deep blues that shined at her. She lost herself in them for a moment, her breath stilling as the heat slowly ebbed away. For the moment, she felt time stop as she stared into the gentle clash of blues and whites of her wife’s eyes. They were calming, they were certain, and most of all they were loving. 

“You’re doing fine, my love. You’re carrying our child. It’s okay to feel this way. Yes, it’s going to be difficult. Yes, there will be some days I know you’re going to cuss me out for doing this to you, but I promise, my love, it’s all part of the process. It doesn’t make you weak. It doesn’t make you any less beautiful or powerful. Fuck, Rio, you are so beautiful right now.” 

Rio released a sharp, dismissive huff, not quite meeting her wife’s eyes. She felt the hand leave her face as the cloth pressed more against her forehead. 

“Beautiful? Right now? I feel like I am burning on a pyre back in Salem,” she muttered, her voice tinged with frustration. “I’m sweating like a damn mortal, and you’re telling me I’m beautiful?” 

Agatha’s expression softened, her hands brushing lightly through Rio’s hair. 

“Yes, beautiful. Even in this chaos, you are,” she said, her voice a calm reassurance against Rio’s storm. “Pregnancy is hard, it’s strange, it’s unpredictable. But you’re still you . Still the woman I love, still the one who can command the forces of nature and bend shadows with a flick of her fingers.” 

Rio’s brow furrowed slightly, her chest tightening with the weight of everything she couldn’t seem to control. She wanted to argue, to push away the comfort Agatha was offering. 

“But I’m not supposed to feel like this,” she said sharply, her voice quivering. “I’m supposed to be above it. Not this . Not human .” 

Agatha leaned in, her breath warm against Rio’s ear as she whispered softly, “You’re not human, love. But right now, you’re carrying something that’s both human and something more. You’re holding our child, and that is extraordinary .” 

The words hit Rio like a weight, her lips parting to respond, but nothing came. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest as her magic buzzed beneath her skin, unsure of its place, just as she was. A cold, sharp breath caught in her throat as she finally met Agatha’s eyes, her own shimmering with unspoken fears.

Her wife continued, “You are going through one of natural orders of life, miss ‘I am the natural order of all things.’” 

Rio cracked a smile at that, allowing a comforting quiet to engulf them. She pondered on her wife’s words, and she was strangely comforted. Rio had been Death for so long, she almost forgot that part of her was still life: the ending and new beginnings. 

Agatha pulled away as the heat left Rio, her breathing calm and the tears dried upon her cheeks. Rio met her gaze again, her wife wiping the remnant of her tears away before pressing her lips against hers. Rio sighed into it, the last of the weight leaving her shoulders as her wife cupped her face like the first time they ever kissed. 

Her wife pulled away sooner than she would have liked, “I brought down some books we could review together while Lilia is with Nicky.”

Rio sat up at the mention of their son, “How did he react?” 

Agatha smiled, placing a hand on her thigh, “He was shy at first, but took to her. She has a gentle hand.”

She couldn’t help herself, her hand reaching over to play with the ends of her wife’s hair, “Why Lilia? And how did you know we needed this?”

Agatha shrugged, “I could tell, it was putting a strain on both of us, and Nicky will be asking questions soon. I wanted us to digest this more before explaining to him. And Lilia, my money was on her surviving the Maximoff boy’s illusion and plus, the only other soul is Alice, and well– you know, I kinda killed her.”

“Yeah, she was pretty distraught when I led her through the veil,” Rio chuckled. “And Nicky, how do you think he will be as a big brother? Do you think he will have your jealousy streak?” 

Her wife scoffed, “ My jealousy streak? Rio, may I remind you of all the people you almost killed for touching me– for looking at me including the ones you have physically hurt and the ones I have killed for you?” 

“How many times are we going to have this conversation– I am not jealous. I was just teaching a lesson,” Rio rolled her eyes. 

Agatha snorted, “Yeah, and what lesson is that?”

Rio leaned closer, their lips centimeters apart as her eyes purposely ran up and down her wife’s face, “That you’re mine.”

Her eyebrow raised as her lips twitched into Rio’s favorite smirk. She leaned in slightly, her breath warm against Rio’s cheek. 

“Is that so?” she whispered, her tone teasing, but with an undertone of something so much deeper. “You really think I need reminding of that?”

Death grinned, their noses now brushing lightly as she kept her gaze locked with her wife’s, a playful glint shining there, “Oh, I just like making sure that you’re aware that no matter what, you’re mine. No one else’s.”

She paused for a moment, watching the way her wife’s breath hitched. The glint in her eyes shone a little brighter, but it was soft, achingly tender. 

“And I am yours, always and forever.” 

They surged forward, their lips meeting in tandem. The kiss was slow, deliberate, and deep, as if they were reaffirming every unspoken promise they had made to each other. Rio’s hand found its way to Agatha’s neck, pulling her closer, as Agatha responded with equal intensity, her hand resting against Rio’s chest, feeling the thudding of her heart… her black heart that formed for her. 

As fast as the kiss started, it ended, Agatha pulling away and placing a gentle pressure on Rio that kept her from following. She bit back a whine in her throat as her wife smirked at her. Her eyes sparkled with both mischief and affection as she sat back on the couch. 

“Focus, my love,” she teased, before her face grew soft, at the thought of their son. “I think Nicky will be excited. He already has so much love and you taught him so much of Green magic. I think he will be ecstatic to have a little brother or sister.”

Rio smiled, sitting back as her hands still played with her wife’s hair. Her wife moved forward picking up the first book that appeared. 

“For now, I figured we could go over this. It will help explain what other side effects–”

Rio stiffened, draining out her wife’s words as she stared at the books again. For a moment, the world started closing in on her, spinning so fast that she thought she was sprinting to catch up. She swallowed hard, forcing the coal she just ate back down and placing her hand on her wife’s thigh to get her to stop. Her wife looked up sharply, her eyes wide with worry, but Rio refused to meet them. 

“No, not now, Agatha. I can’t,” she snapped harsher than she intended.  

Her wife only tilted her head, her expression calm and thoughtful as she studied Rio. Then, she set the book down, standing up abruptly, catching Rio by surprise. For a moment her heart raced, wondering if her wife would dare walk away from her when she was like this. She felt the heat rush up her neck, but it died upon seeing her wife walking over to her knitting basket. Agatha pulled out her needles and grabbed a green ball of yarn, sitting beside Rio again. 

“Okay, so no book. How about we make something for our little one? Something from you.” 

Rio looked away, chuckling softly, “ Mi amor, I don’t even know the first thing about knitting.” 

Her wife chuckled, before a smirk stretched her lips, “That’s why I am going to show you. You are good with your fingers. It will come easy.” 

She rolled her eyes, trying to mask the blush in her cheeks, “Real smooth, my love.” 

Her wife only snorted before placing the needles in her hands. Rio watched as she wrapped the thick soft yarn around it before guiding her hands awkwardly. She watched as Agatha pulled the yarn through, before guiding Rio to do the next. Her wife kissed her shoulder, nodding to her to continue. 

“Just make some small squares. We will stitch the squares together to make the blanket.”

Rio concentrated, forming the knots, some looser than others, but to her surprise, she was actually doing it. Agatha rested back on the couch beside her, grabbing the book back in her hands and reading it slightly to herself. They fell into a steady rhythm, the sounds of ruffling pages and metallic clicks of needles echoing in their home. Rio grew more confident, but every once and a while, Agatha would set her book aside to fix a slipped stitch or guide her to make the next square. She allowed herself to lose herself in the moment, her wife’s grounding presence beside her and the rare moment of quiet they had to themselves. The balance was kept and Nicky was well looked after. 

A hot flash returned, creeping up her body like an invasion of fire ants. She set the needles down, her wife already standing to grab the bowl and cloth. Agatha was back, pressing the rag to her head and chest as Rio closed her eyes, her hand on her stomach. She almost flinched when another hand rested above her own, but relaxed. She was safe. She was in her home with her wife. 

Agatha didn’t speak, but she was there, her presence a constant, calm force. She pressed the cool cloth against Rio’s forehead and chest once more, but her touch was softer now, more deliberate, as if she knew exactly what Rio needed without a word. She breathed in the smell of lavender as her wife’s hand steadied her in ways that words never could. With every steady breath that Agatha took, Rio felt a little more in control. She leaned back against the couch, her hand still resting on her stomach, and allowed the warmth of Agatha’s hand spread through her like a soft blanket. 

Eventually, her body began to give in to the fatigue, the ache of the heat finally starting to ebb away. Her head, once heavy with the wave of heat, was too tired to hold up any longer. She turned toward her wife, her movements slow and deliberate, before resting her head gently in her wife’s lap. Her body curled on the rest of the couch, her hands cradling her stomach. Agatha didn’t say a word. Instead, she simply adjusted her position, making Rio more comfortable, her hand resting lightly on her back, fingers brushing the skin in slow, calming strokes. She drew out runes of love, calmness, stability, and protection. There was no need for anything else– the silence between them was filled with more than enough love, warmth, and understanding.

Rio jolted from her sleep, finding her head still in her wife’s lap, a rustle of paper above her head as light fingers traced absentmindedly on her back, but that wasn’t what bothered her. It was the strange sensation rippling through her body. It was faint, but nonetheless there. Rio waited for a moment, wondering if she imagined it, but then it came again, stronger and longer. Her stomach fluttered again, almost as if something soft was brushing against the inside of her stomach. She froze, her heart racing as she rubbed her stomach, but the fluttering sensation rippled through her once more, confirming that whatever was happening was very real. She moved to rest on her back, meeting her wife’s gaze as the book floated away from view. 

“ Mi amor, algo... se movió. Dentro. No como un calambre ni nada de eso, nunca había sentido algo así… ” Rio trailed off, her voice uncertain. 

She watched as her wife’s expression changed, biting her lip as she hummed her laughter, but the way her eyes lit up, told Rio that it was normal. Her other hand came down, running through Rio’s scalp, soothing her as her voice carried a raw tenderness. 

“That would be our baby, mi corazón. ”