Chapter Text
“You are awake, miamoza,” Prince Naveen yawned groggily. “I can feel it.”
He rolled over to find Princess Tiana staring wide-eyed at the ceiling next to him. The sheets and quilts were rumpled around her on the bed as if she hadn’t been able to decide if she was too hot or too cold for half the night. She sighed deeply, feeling caught, and turned her satin-bonnetted head towards her husband. She hadn’t thought her rustling would wake him. But now that he was up, she was grateful for his company. She pushed off the last of the bedcovers, placed her hands atop her rounded belly, and rubbed it tenderly—tracing lazy, loving circles across the thin cotton of her nightgown and over her out-turned navel.
Naveen reached out into the darkness and rubbed her belly, too.
“Our Tadpole keeping you up again?” he asked, concerned.
“‘Fraid so,” she managed to smile. “But I think we might be havin’ a night owl instead.”
The prince gave his wife a sleepy laugh that melted into a lovestruck grin as he felt steady, sturdy kicks coming from her stomach.
“That, or a bucking bronco,” he teased.
Tiana giggled and the spasm of laughter made the baby stir even more. She winced.
Naveen jolted to attention. “Are you alright, miamoza?”
She waved away his coddling question with a flick of her wrist. “I’m fine, sugah.” Sometimes she swore he thought she was a baby now, bless his heart.
“‘Fine’ or not…” the prince mused, “there must be something I can help you with, no?”
The threshold for “fine” had clearly passed a while ago, and Naveen had no plans of sitting back and bearing witness to his wife’s discomfort for the rest of the night—not after literally being pulled from the depths of his own slumber by her prenatal insomnia. Plus, he might have felt partially responsible, what with his soon-to-be firstborn tormenting her from the inside out, and all that.
“Naveen—” Tiana started to refuse.
“Are you nauseous?”
“Sugah, I haven’t been nauseous in months.”
He frowned at himself. “You will have to forgive my memory at this ungodly hour.”
That was fair.
She could still hear the sleep in his voice, but he was here for her. Trying. Giving her his best. She appreciated how thoughtful he was—even when his own thoughts weren’t entirely together. He had always been one to show her his love through words and touches and deeds, and she was struck by the urge to show him some of that in return. She lifted one of her hands from her tummy and reached out to him. Ran a finger over the perfectly chiseled cleft in his chin. Pulled him into a delicate little kiss.
“Thank you for takin’ care of me, Naveen,” the princess said softly once they’d parted. “But there’s no reason the both of us should be tired come mornin’. Go ahead and go back to sleep.”
“But, miamoza,” he found protesting difficult with the tingle of her kiss still warm on his lips, “if either of us needs to sleep more, it is you.”
Tiana rolled her eyes. “Tell that to the future Queen of Maldonia,” she said, pointing accusingly at her stomach.
Her husband chuckled. “...or future King…”
“You are losin’ that bet, Hop-along.”
He smiled at the tacit rivalry between them, and politely changed the subject.
“Are you hungry then?” he tried again. “I could grab something from the kitchen for you.”
“Sugah, I—”
“Or, maybe your feet hurt from running around the restaurant all day, yes?”
Without waiting for a response, the prince leaned over and kissed his wife’s dimpled cheek, then scooted to the edge of the bed so he could massage her swollen soles and toes and ankles. His touch tickled, and Tiana giggled instantly, but softer this time, not wanting to earn another kick from the overactive bun in her oven. She smiled down at the man taking her achy, too-big feet in the palms of his hands, and looked forward to the day she could fit into her old shoes again. But after their baby was born, and her maternity clothes were tucked away at the back of her closet, she knew Naveen would still treat her so preciously.
Even before she had grown “in the family way” he had been quick to offer her little kindnesses like these, especially after long shifts at the Palace. Gift-wrapped bars of her favorite chocolate. Love letters hidden about the apartment in cabinets, books, and drawers. Ukulele songs composed on a whim—just for her. Tiana had always made a show of not needing such things before she’d been expecting. Though, truthfully, she liked those things very much. She just feared that enjoying unnecessary extravagances made her spoiled (though they didn’t). And the fact of the matter was, Naveen enjoyed spoiling her.
If Princess Tiana hadn’t known any better, she would have sworn her husband preferred her pregnant. It did seem to make her more agreeable to all his doting. And as she neared the end of her sixth month carrying their first child, he made sure to lay the doting on especially thick.
Tiana groaned a little against the pressure of Naveen’s massage, and his eyes shot to her face just in time to catch the grimace she’d hoped to hide from him.
“Too much?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No, sugah. That’s nice.” There was a hint of a smile in her voice as she recalled all the sweet things he did for her. She smiled even wider imagining what type of father those sweet things would shape him into soon.
She let him carry on for a while. Watching his familiar silhouette in the darkness. Indulging in the mystery and the art of him framed by the footboard posts of their four-poster bed. She prayed they’d always have moments alone like this. Moments they could always claim as their own.
“Truthfully, though…” Tiana’s rising inflection broke the silence.
“Yes?” he answered without glancing up from her bare feet.
“My joints have been botherin’ me somethin’ awful tonight.”
“Really?” Naveen said, a rasp of worry cracking his voice.
He looked up at her then. Instantly. The turn of his head caught the thinnest sliver of starlight that had crept in through the curtains, and it now struck his face just so. Highlighting him in all the right ways. Commanding all of Tiana’s attention. The fall of sleep-mussed hair over his brow. The sharp Cupid’s bow that melted into pillowy soft lips. The stubbled skin of his jaw, cast blue with night.
Hormones flooded the princess’s already sensitive body, and she suddenly forgot what she had wanted to talk about—forgot that her bones ached as this other, urgent ache took over. And in that narrow fragment of light, illuminating only one side of his face, a single amber eye fell upon her and directed its powerful, princely gaze into her soul.
So much for forgetting her joints hurt. The princess had forgotten how to breathe.
A few moments passed before Naveen nudged her on.
“Tiana?” he hummed, squeezing her toes. “You are still with me, no?”
She snapped back to the present.
“Oh. Sorry, sugah. This baby is turnin’ my brain to mush,” she lied. As if on cue, the baby kicked, not wanting any part in this scheme.
“But you are in pain, yes? All over? I will make an emergency call to the doctor right away.” He would have already been down the hallway with the phone receiver in his hand if Tiana hadn’t grabbed him by the wrist.
“No, no, no… It’s not that bad,” she told him. “I just think… with all this extra weight I’m carryin’, the rain must be makin’ my joints flare up.”
The prince looked confused. “The… rain?”
“Yes, Naveen. The rain.” Had she stuttered?
He narrowed his eyes, then crawled up the bed again to place the back of his hand on her forehead.
“You are sure I do not need to call the doctor?”
“Naveen!” she huffed and swatted his hand away.
He sat back down at the foot of the bed, ready to run towards the phone if he needed to.
“Miamoza… it is not raining outside.”
“Yes, it is.”
“It is not.”
“It’s gotta be.”
“Tiana, I—”
“Shug,” she cut him off, frustrated, “I’ve lived in New Orleans all my life. I know what rain is like here.”
A beat passed before he responded. “...Do you?”
She tossed a pillow at him, and it caught him squarely in the chest.
“Lucky you’re cute,” the princess mock-scoffed, shaking her head and smiling.
“So I’ve been told.” Naveen winked.
“Anyway…” she continued, “The wind is practically howlin’. It smells like rain. And everything from my knuckles to my knees feels blown up like hot air balloons. What more proof do you need?”
The actual rain part, he wanted to say.
Prince Naveen remembered what the doctor had told them about his wife’s new sensitivity around smell, and because of that he’d been extra careful with his cologne and tobacco and cognac around her. He was under the impression, though, that she would find odors to be most troublesome when they were close and deliberate—not as natural and widespread as the weather. So this “smells like rain” business (when there was no rain around) seemed entirely too much to him.
The small opening in their bedroom curtain also clearly showed enough light from the stars or the moon or something that there couldn’t have been many clouds in the sky. Furthermore, Louisiana storms weren’t subtle. He had grown rather used to the sheets of rain pelting the rooftop of their restaurant-apartment, and was surprised that Tiana had left out that obvious detail from her other observations.
Ah, there was a thought... Maybe there was proof to be found on the rooftop after all. And maybe that proof would help take Tiana’s mind off of her restlessness for a while.
“Shall we bet on it?” Naveen rasped to his wife, too much mischief in his timbre.
“Another bet?” Tiana sounded surprised.
Earlier that week, he had wagered with her to guess what a few regular diners would order for supper, best two out of three, with the loser forced to polish all the restaurant’s silverware. She had won, of course, but she ended up helping him anyway since his fingers had started to cramp after the first one hundred spoons. It seemed that her husband was intent to set stakes on any and everything until her due date, when the ultimate bet of if they were having a boy or a girl was finally settled. She chalked it up to pre-fatherhood excitement, and—carefully—giggled again.
“You ain’t tired of losin’ yet, sugah?” she teased.
“Maybe…” he chuckled breathlessly, “...I am just not tired of playing with you…” He bit his bottom lip and slid a naughty palm up the inside of her leg until it was hidden beneath the hem of her nightgown. Then he flashed her with a stare so quick and intense that the hairs on the nape of the princess’s neck stood on end.
Tiana unexpectedly needed to swallow, but couldn’t. Her mouth had gone totally dry.
“So, miamoza,” the prince cooed, petting higher and higher up the piqued skin of her thigh, “shall we bet on this rain of yours?”
“We don’t need to.” Tiana folded her arms above her belly. “I’m right.” Though her current thoughts about her husband made her feel very, very wrong.
“What are you willing to give up when you are not right?” He stopped his hand at the very top of her thigh—right outside the lace edge of her knickers…
Not that! she thought to herself. Oh, goodness, had she gasped? Out loud?! “I think you mean ‘if’ I’m not right…” she managed to say, hoping she sounded calmer than she felt.
“You are stalling, princess,” her husband chuckled.
“W-w-well…” Tiana stuttered, “...with you and your Tadpole both startin’ trouble, how am I s’posed to think straight?” she said, blaming him and the baby.
The baby stretched in an exaggerated way, poking the princess in her vital organs and ribs, and painfully proving her point.
“Ah, so he is just my Tadpole now?”
“She is when she keeps me up all night with some kinda nonsense.”
Naveen paused, considering. “That does sound like me actually,” he agreed. “Although my nonsense is delivered under very different circumstances.” He ran a few rogue fingers over the middle seam of her panties, and Tiana’s whole body flinched.
“Instigators, the both of you!” she pretended to chide him.
“And you are stuck with us both forever.”
The prince took his wife’s stiff-knuckled hand and gently kissed the back of it. She shook her head, not trusting him one bit—but her dimples easily gave away her true feelings.
“Come with me,” Naveen pulled softly at her, running his thumb along the tops of her fingers, daring his woman to follow him to the ends of the earth. She would have, too. Without question. But she at least wanted to give a good show of seeming more rational than that.
The princess raised a suspicious eyebrow at him, the rest of her poker face staying perfectly still.
“Miamoza…” he tried again, “…come with me.”
Were his eyes twinkling in the dimness? What defense did she have against that?! Damn her raging hormones.
She gave him a lopsided smile and dramatically blew out a breath. “Oh, alright.”
Squeezing his hand in return, Tiana tossed her legs over the side of the mattress and let herself be guided out of the bedroom. The prince laced their fingers together, and they walked side by side in their pajamas. They went slowly. She, wobbling on tender legs. He, pressing onward. Eventually they turned down the hallway that ended in a set of stairs up to their private entrance to the restaurant’s rooftop.
“After you,” he said, bowing and extending his arm in a chivalrous gesture.
“What’s all this about, Naveen?” Tiana asked.
“Our bet,” he said with a smug grin. He really shouldn’t have taken so much satisfaction in besting a tired, pregnant woman—especially one he had to live with. Though he did hope to distract her from her pain… a little.
She turned around, “I’m goin’ back to bed…”
Maybe the prince hadn’t thought through how this plan would be received.
“Wait!” he called after her before she could leave. “Do you have something better to do? Counting kicks instead of sheep, perhaps?”
Good point. But it would take more than that to convince her.
“What part of ‘my joints are botherin’ me,’ makes you think I want to climb all these stairs?!” she said, facing him again.
The prince had already started climbing though.
“Moving is good for the joints, yes?” He grinned down at her. “Besides, this relaxing, rain-free night air will do wonders for you.”
Tiana folded her arms, but a wide smile formed between her dimples.
“Come, miamoza. The night is ours!” Then he unlocked the door at the top of the staircase and stepped out in a rush of wind.
At the bottom, a pregnant Princess Tiana grumbled lovingly under her breath at the rascal she’d married. She stood in the cool beams of starlight that the open door had let in. Gusts of summery night air swept at the loose fabric of her sleeping gown. Curled around her bare arms and legs. The breeze was intoxicating, bearing on it the rich perfume of a dark and dormant New Orleans. She breathed it in, slow and deep, and it filled her with something crisp. Something alive.
Without the sound of raindrops or a low cloud of mist making its way down the stairs, however, the princess could tell she’d been wrong about the weather, and the look she expected to find on her husband’s face was almost enough to wound her pride and send her scrambling back under the covers in their bedroom.
Almost.
Her hormones were betraying her. She thought back to that sliver of light a moment ago. The piercing, honey eye, full of concern. Fatherhood looked so good on her man already. She wondered how it tasted on him, too…
So Tiana grasped tight to the handrail, willing herself to take the first step and find out.
“Well, Tadpole,” she began, bracing the underside of her belly with her other hand, “should we head up or not?”
She rubbed her stomach as if expecting a genuine answer.
She got none. Just a steady calm.
“You’ve been kickin’ me all night and now you wanna act shy?” Tiana clicked her tongue. “How ‘bout we try one kick for ‘yes’ and two for ‘no’?”
All of a sudden, three kicks occurred in quick succession.
“Oh, you!” she huffed. “What does three mean?!”
“Miamoza?” Naveen called down from the rooftop. “Did you get lost?”
“Kick now or forever hold your peace, Little One,” the princess said, giving her baby one final chance to respond, “Mama’s on a mission…”
The baby calmed to a low flutter, peace held.
“Not gonna stop me, huh?” Tiana smirked, gently patting her tummy. “An instigator like your daddy… I’m gonna have my hands full with you two.”
Slowly, but surely, Tiana made her way up the stairs—with a sly goal of filling her hands indeed.