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The miserable figure beneath the bed sheets could barely be seen shifting, trying in vain to find comfort. The lights were out and the window curtains were drawn, which left the room in a dark stillness. From outside, commotion could be heard. Soft prayers for silence were mumbled only to be met with the noise growing louder at the opening of the bedroom door. Light poured in, enveloping the bed in a yellow glow and highlighting the ball of distress curled up in the center of it.
The sheets were tugged away, revealing the gaze of Furina’s weary eyes to whoever dared to disturb her. She didn’t move from her position against the long pillow tucked firmly behind her back and curled slightly with the shape of her legs, which rested awkwardly beside her large pregnant belly. As her eyes adjusted to the light, her irritated expression eased.
“Arle,” she grumbled, “close the door, please. The light is making my headache worse.”
All morning Furina had been holed up in their bedroom attempting to will away a persistent throbbing that stretched from the top of her head to the back of her neck. The pain often spread lower, reaching all the way down her back and settling in her hips. After thirty-eight weeks of pregnancy, her body was facing true exhaustion, which spared no amount of new and unwelcome pains. Fighting through them was only feasible for so long. Overworking herself only furthered the issue, allowing nausea to creep up and leave her in the bathroom for the rest of the day. Suffering aches was surely the lesser of two evils, in her opinion.
The door shut behind Arlecchino as she stepped fully into the room. “I wanted to know how you were doing, Furina. It seems you are still unwell,” sympathy laced her every word. She moved slowly towards the bed and lowered herself to sit beside her wife. “Are you positive there is nothing I can do to help you?”
Arlecchino had been trying all morning- no, all week to ease Furina’s hurting, but the answer would remain the same.
“There’s not much we can do. My body just hates me right now.”
That awful answer. One that told Arlecchino that she had no chance of offering any relief to Furina. She could never bring food because it might lead to another wave of nausea, she could not massage sore spots because she might press too hard, she could not offer cuddles because she was too warm. All according to Furina. It was impossible.
“You cannot just lie here and suffer. I won’t accept you being in such misery every day until you give birth.” As much as Arlecchino tried to be soft, she was also familiar with Furina’s inherent ability to brush off her own needs. This only amplified when she was not in the mood for solutions.
And in the mood, she certainly was not. Furina did not move, but she did stare angrily back at Arlecchino. “You’re going to have to accept it. Please, I don’t want you touching me or trying to feed me or any of those other stupid things. I just-” she cut herself off and ran her hands over her face. “Just talking is making me feel out of breath. I’m not feeling good enough to argue right now.”
“We do not need to be arguing,” Arlecchino insisted. “Dear, you are miserable. If you would let me-”
“No!” she snapped, done with their back and forth. “Arlecchino, I was dealing with it just fine until you came in and started telling me how to take care of myself. I know you think I can’t do anything alone, but I do not want your help this time.”
Arlecchino went silent. Furina did not look up at her, keeping her eyes locked onto the pillow beneath her head. She told herself she was averting her eyes because she was upset, all while burying the gnawing feeling of shame at her own words.
“Alright,” Arlecchino finally spoke, “I will leave you be. Call for me when you decide you are ready to talk.” She spoke as firm as she always did, but the reluctance to leave was obvious. Quickly, she stepped back out of the dark room, leaving Furina in silence again.
Finally, she thought to herself, all I need is peace and quiet.
But left with wandering thoughts after an argument, even a short one, soon led to a spiral of sorts.
Sure, she wasn’t happy that she had just sent Arlecchino away after being so rude to her, but the irritable part of her brain couldn’t really help it.
In all her years, Furina did not ever imagine that she would be able to fall in love and have her own child. No amount of researching all the pains and changes that came with being pregnant could have prepared her for just how detached from her own body she had become. And it was infuriating. How was she supposed to know that she would begin to hate looking at her now swollen reflection? Or that she would feel like sobbing for hours each time she was reminded of how much longer she had until her baby was born? Two more weeks sounded more akin to torture than anything.
Gods, she’s just tired. Her small frame couldn’t handle carrying in the way she had hoped. Her back ached constantly, she could not stand for longer than a small handful of minutes before her feet began demanding she get off them, and the skin of her belly itched in irritation at the amount of growth being endured.
Furina could not wait to have her baby in her arms. Both because she was just over being pregnant and because she already loved her child more than anything else. She would never let anyone think she was not beyond excited to meet her child, no matter how miserable she was. Despite all the suffering, she was ready, so ready, to pour love onto a tiny being that had yet to be hurt. She used to grieve for her own childhood often. Always wondering what her life would have looked like if she was born just the same as anyone else. She was born too old to ever be a child, never allowed the chance to experience life with young eyes or play with friends her age. Furina had acquired some childcare practice from days when she’d spend time with Arlecchino’s children, trying her best to give them the loving attention they deserved. She’d begun to consider them to be her own as well and found an immense amount of joy in being their caretaker.
But she’s never started from scratch before. She did not have experience with babies and Arlecchino raised her kids so well that Furina never needed to worry about teaching them how to be people. Never in her life as she ever felt this way before. She’s never raised a child so small; she’s never watched her body change in such a way. She is just so uncomfortable and scared. Both for her own sake and for her baby.
There were so many things that could go wrong in these next two weeks. After they had decided to deliver their baby at home, Arlecchino began reading up on the subject to be prepared for any possible outcome. Furina had made the mistake of reading through a few pages from one of the many books on her own, and quickly understood why she had been advised not to look at some of the more graphic information. The possibility of hemorrhaging and bleeding out after giving birth was very high up on her list of fears. And the baby was sitting so low that she could go into labor any day now, and be dead by the end of it all.
No, no, Arlecchino would never let that happen. She knew, Furina knew there was no way she would die under her wife's careful watch.
Arlecchino would hold her through it all and keep her safe. She had been working so hard, practically throwing all other work to the side, just to ensure that they were prepared for the arrival of their new addition.
As if sensing their mothers conflicting unease, the baby begins to roll and kick about under Furina’s irritated skin.
“No, ohh you were being so good until now,” she whined. “It’s sleep time, okay? Please stop moving.” All she could do was rub lazily over the skin of her belly and hope that her prayers would be answered.
If Arle were here, she would only make things worse, Furina thought. The baby always responded to her voice, leaving Furina to face the consequences of simply having a conversation with her own spouse. Each time Arlecchino would offer help, it involved firm handed massages, or getting her to do some gentle stretches, or cuddles beside a body that was far too warm. Her partners' body was like a furnace, which did not go unappreciated in the winter, but the idea was not very inviting while being so heavily pregnant.
And as she thought of it, Furina noticed the bed had gotten quite warm from not moving from her spot in so long. She tried to scoot herself to the other side of the bed where no one’s body heat had been soaking into the mattress. Unfortunately for her, halfway through her journey, her baby, as if trying to test her limits, shifted again and pressed their limbs against her organs.
Furina squeaked in alarm at the very sudden reminder that she had not been out of bed to use the bathroom in some time. The timing was very inopportune. Not only was she in the center of the bed, meaning she’ll have to scoot herself a considerable distance back to where she started, but she had been limited on the strength it took to lift her body out of bed these days.
Furina let out a loud, angry sigh as she, once again, attempted to shuffle herself to the edge of the mattress. The consistent rubbing of the blankets against the sore, red lines on her tummy made her want to give up and cry. But no, she would keep moving. She was not a quitter, or at least that’s what Arlecchino kept telling her. Inch by inch, she slowly dragged her tired body back to the side.
Now she had to sit up.
Propping herself up on one elbow, Furina intended to use her other arm to slowly ease into a sitting position. However, the second she reached her arm down to the mattress, she felt a twist in her back. She wasn’t sure if a nerve had pinched or if her back had chosen an unfortunate time to cramp, but there was now a sharp pain radiating from the middle of her spine.
Her face scrunched at the pain, and she could only whine as she realized she had become stuck in this position. “Ow- No, no!” All Furina wanted was to be capable of handling this alone. But it seemed unmanageable now. Stuck and in pain, all she could do was cry. Her body was once again betraying her, and the sobs wracking her uneasy frame only amplified the aching.
Through her tear-fogged vision, she could barely see the bedroom door opening, and a person making their way towards her.
“What happened, Furina? Are you hurt?” Arlecchino’s voice reached her ears.
“Up-! Up, help me stand,” Furina gasped out. Arlecchino moved quickly, wrapping her arms around her short wife and tugging her onto her feet. Furina clung tightly to broad shoulders and groaned in relief as the awful pinching in her back subsided. She began to roughly wipe the tears from her cheeks with the backs of her hands, but still continued to cry. “I don’t want to be pregnant anymore,” she hiccupped.
“Oh, my dear,” Arlecchino held her close, hoping the gesture was offering comfort. “It won’t be much longer now.”
“Even one minute is too much longer!” Furina retorted. “I hate feeling like this. My body doesn’t even feel like it’s mine anymore. I can’t do all the things I used to do, and I can’t go three minutes without crying or eating or using the toilet. It’s just awful.”
Furina shoves her face against Arlecchino’s chest, letting her tears soak into her clothes. This was certainly not the first time they’d found themselves in this position, but that never made it easier; watching their partner struggle through emotions.
Arlecchino combed her fingers through Furina’s hair and whispered assurances that this it’s all okay, and let her cry everything out. “You are so strong, my love. It may not be easy, but it must be done. I promise you, once our baby is born you will slowly begin to feel better.”
But Furina’s doubt is obvious. She shakes her head. “Maybe I’ll feel better, but I won't feel like me. Look at me! I didn’t just gain weight for this, everything about my body is different. My nose looks different, my eyes aren’t the same shape as they used to be. Are they not? Gods, I don’t recognize myself anymore and it’s scary. I’ve... I’ve never looked different before. I’ve never changed, not even once. I won’t be the same as I was.”
After five hundred years of an unending act, Furina was beyond unaccustomed to things as common as aging. It was no wonder she was terrified at the concept of her own face, organs, and skin changing and adjusting without her wanting them to.
Arlecchino had changed many times herself. She’d aged, she’d gained scars, she’d watched in her own horror as her arms began to burn and char due to her curse. It was frightening. All of it. Furina had every right to feel scared. But she would not walk through it alone.
“You are still Furina. And you have never been as human as you are now. This is further proof of your being. Humans change so often, and you are no longer excluded from this rule. No, you will not be the same as you once were, but you will feel okay. It will be different, but it will be right, darling I promise.”
Shining wet eyes stared up in awe at her words. As if asking if she really meant it. Furina opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by her lower lip quivering, prompting her tears to fall once more. She takes a moment to process all she’d heard. This was just part of her newfound mortality. It was strange, it was often terrible, but it was human. And it was hers.
Still embraced in Arlecchino’s arms, Furina let herself cry. She cried for her fears and her pain, but now those emotions laced together with the joy of finally changing.
After centuries of stasis, Furina was changing.
The two held each other tight for some time longer without speaking. Simply taking in their shared presence. As Furina’s tears slowed to a stop, she was reminded of the pressure resting awkwardly in her bladder. She squirmed in Arlecchino’s embrace before attempting to dart off in the direction of their bathroom, only to be reminded that her widened gait slowed her considerably. She’d managed to make it on time, but her wordless exit left Arlecchino rather amused She waited for Furina, beside the bathroom door, ready to guide her back into bed.
The moment they were side by side again, Arlecchino reached her hands out for Furina’s, and walked slowly to their bed.
“Furina, I understand that you do not wish for me to continue asking, but you know that I must. Will you let me help you?”
Furina let out a heavy sigh as she laid herself down on the mattress again, which looked to be more of a challenge than she’d expected it to be. Still, she motioned for Arlecchino to come to the bed and finally said the words she’d been putting off for so long, “Alright, do whatever you can to lessen the pain.”
If Furina had been looking in her direction, she would have seen the subtle, yet still elated smile on Arlecchino’s face.
“Thank you, darling,” she spoke as she crossed to sit behind her wife. She began to run her hands along aching joints and muscles. Staring at Furina’s shoulders, trailing her fingers down her back, and rubbing soft circles into sore hips, just above her thigh.
The motions had been unintentionally sensual, much to Furina’s exasperation. “No, wait,” she whines. “I don’t think sex is going to help at all.”
“Ah, my apologies,” Her hands withdrew. “I can assure you that I had not planned on doing such a thing while you are so uncomfortable. I’m attempting to locate the major problem areas in hopes of reliving them. If that is alright with you, may I continue?”
Furina nodded. “Just be gentle, okay?”
“You have my word.”
Arlecchino placed her hands on the small of Furina’s back. Her thumbs kneaded against the skin, pressing down so lightly that she wondered if it could even be felt. At the lack of verbal resistance, she dragged her thumbs up from the base of Furina’s spine, then slowly guided them back down. She repeated the motion again, then once more before directing her attention to Furina’s hips. They’d grown considerably wider in only a matter of months, adjusting to accommodate the child nestled between them.
An experimental press was placed to the center of the hip, earning a sharp inhale through clenched teeth.
“That- Arle, that hurts.”
“Should I stop?”
“I’m not sure...” Furina hesitated. “But if you think it will help, keep going.”
And so, she continued, rubbing as gently as she could. She used only the pads of her fingers, and did not dare to lean into the tender muscle. The sound of Furina struggling to bear even the lightest touches reached her ears, almost halting her in the process. Arlecchino was no stranger to pain. Many times before had she been forced to soothe her own hurting body alone. She was certain that this would help, even if it did not feel particularly good. Still, each short groan and unhappy whine tugged the corner of her lips into a sympathetic frown.
Once she felt satisfied with her work on Furina’s back and hips, Arlecchino adjusted her posture.
“I would like you to sit up for me. Your neck and shoulders are tense as well.”
With only minimal assistance, Furina now sat on the mattress with her legs hanging off the side and her back facing Arlecchino, who remained kneeling.
“My shoulders don’t hurt more than normal,” Furina huffed. “I don’t see why they need adjusting as well.”
But Arlecchino clicked her tongue at the words. “Perhaps they do not bother you, but they are quite stiff.” She ran her hand along a shoulder blade, then traveled aimlessly around the warm skin before pressing both her index fingers against a tight knot.
Even at a pressure she found to be fairly gentle, she still heard Furina gasp in pain. Still, she was not making any attempts to stop her. So Arlecchino continued.
Furina did not fight it, instead choosing to breathe as steadily as she could. It could be assumed that she was merely testing her own pain tolerance, or practicing her deep breathing, but over time, as her gasps and long exhales turned shaky, it became clear that neither option was working in her favor. Nothing could hide the freshly formed tears that rolled down her cheeks, nor could she try to still her trembling body.
Arlecchino, finally taking pity, slowed her touches to a stop.
Furina sniffled quietly and wiped her stray tears away. Admittedly, she felt a bit foolish for crying from something as common as a massage, but the stiffness in her shoulders alone was wound up so tight.
“I apologize, Furina,” Arlecchino whispered from behind her. “If I had known you would hurt so much, I would have searched for a different approach.” She bowed her head forwards and pressed soft kisses along any exposed skin she could reach. “Allow me to make up for it?”
“No, it’s okay,” Furina mumbled. “You did ease the pain a little. The process just hurt.”
Arlecchino stood anyways, and crossed around the bed to stand before Furina. “I insist. Humor me one last time.” She helped her to her feet, then guided her a few steps away from the bed. She then steps around Furina to hug her from behind. “Do tell me if this is uncomfortable. I heard once before that this may be a pleasant feeling.”
Furina was confused for a moment, but immediately after, wanted to sob in relief at the feeling of weight being lifted from her. Warm hands had slipped beneath her belly and now carried for her the heaviness of their child.
“Ohh, Arle,” Furina sighed out blissfully as she tilted her head back. “How long have you known about this? You should have been holding this kid weeks ago.”
“Not long,” Arlecchino replied. “I was uncertain about how to approach the subject, but I am very glad you are enjoying it.”
Furina had fully relaxed. She slumped back slightly against Arlecchino and finally managed to remember what her previous center of gravity felt like. In the back of her mind, she cheered at the fact that she had such a strong partner.
She was going to ask her to do this every day until their baby was born.