#❝ verse. ⋮ the goddess in pearls and pink ; the ruler of house and home

[rosegoldandsequins]

( whisper ) : sender shares a secret with receiver (Azumi learns the queen is expecting the first heir before anyone else :D)

❛ ❤ ⋯

It wasn't until the afternoon came that Okamura was able to leave the grand hall. Satisfied that the royal household could run itself for a moment, the blonde gathered up her notes regarding the Queen's schedule. She left in search of the monarch, who was taking tea in one of the comfortable rooms that overlooked the palace's gardens.

Noting the lack of servants within ( merely guards at the door ), Okamura did not stop to curtsy or offer the proper polite greeting to the Queen. Instead, she patted the seated brunette on the shoulder affectionately and moved to look out the large windows. Beau followed her, nose pressed to the glass. Melissa chuckled as she lowered her cup.

"I didn't hear you announced," the older woman teased.

Okamura turned from her place, a hand pressed to her chest in mock offense. "Monaka, I am wounded. You know I always follow decorum." As if to highlight her point, the noblewoman unceremoniously set her papers in front of the Queen, tucked a stray bit of hair behind Melissa's ear, and claimed the seat next to her. Fascinated by a flock of birds on the lawn, Beau elected to stay behind, growling softly.

"Well, it does work in my favor," Melissa acknowledged, setting her drink to the side. Her smile deepened. "I was about to send someone for you."

The Head of the Household raised a brow. "Your schedule, I trust," the blonde mused, nodding toward the pages. "It is all there."

Melissa shook her head. She waited for her companion to finish pouring her tea. After, the Queen leaned forward and grabbed her hands. Okamura immediately gave the brunette her undivided attention, head tilted to the side curiously.

"Monaka ??" she murmured. "Are you alright ??"

"I am better than," Melissa answered, eyes sparkling in the ever - shifting sunlight. "I have been sitting here thinking. Who to tell, where to even begin . . . it finally struck me that it must be you. Before anyone. — and then you come in, practically summoned by the Goddess."

"Tell what ??" Okamura breathed, studying her dearest friend with an unblinking stare. "Melissa, are you — ??"

The Queen squeezed Okamura's fingers. "I am," she replied. "It's happened, Azumi : I'm expecting. I had it confirmed this morning."

Okamura gasped. As that girlish noise left her, the blonde propelled herself forward. She wrapped her arms around the Queen, effectively dragging the older woman into a tight hug, and buried her head in Melissa's shoulder. It was an almost uncharacteristic display to any outsider — most inhabitants of the palace would think the blonde unwell were they to see — but the Queen knew better. Throughout most of their lives, it had been the two of them ; as far as they were concerned, they were each other's family. Melissa recalled having a similarly exuberant and emotional reaction to hearing the news that Okamura was carrying her daughters ( who were now a pair of sweet three - year - olds ).

For a few minutes, the two companions held fast to one another, soaking in the warmth of the day, sweet birdsong, and fantastic joy shared between them. It wasn't until Beau snarled at a chipmunk near the window that Okamura stirred.

The noblewoman shifted back, reached for her seat, and dragged it closer to Melissa. She stopped when their knees touched, fingers finding the Queen's again. Okamura's cheeks were dusted pink, flushed with her excitement.

"Have you felt it move yet ??" she asked.

Melissa instinctively withdrew one of her hands and pressed a palm to her middle, cradling it through her gown. "No, Azumi, I don't think so. The healers were stupefied that I even suspected. My breasts have been sore, but I think I may have only missed one bleeding."

The brunette's brows drew together thoughtfully. "It was . . . I simply knew. Daigo left for the islands yesterday. I went walking later. There was a point where I placed a hand on my stomach and thought ' we will both miss him. ' It was as if . . . " Melissa laughed, shaking her head. "I sound mad, Azumi. Regardless, Daigo and I were successful, and I carry our heir."

Okamura grinned. "He will be in Koutetsujima for a full month, won't he ?? Do you intend to write and tell him ??"

Melissa sat back in her chair. "I do not," she replied. "Were I to send word with the next ship, he would swim back. He is needed there ; the baby and I will steal him away once he is here with us."

"You are right," the blonde said. She picked up her cup and glanced at Melissa over the rim. "I will say nothing, of course — until His Royal Highness knows." Okamura took a long swig of tea and placed it onto the saucer neatly. A dreamy sigh left her lips. "Monaka, I am . . . so pleased for you. Know that I will be here with you, from the beginning to the birth ; you have my word."

The Queen's expression softened. "I know, Azumi, and I am very grateful."

Okamura settled into her seat, tapping a fingertip against the arm. "Also, I can tell you everything that they will not. We shall have to bring in good cobblers to resize your shoes. None of them will fit after the baby. — and there is the matter of the bosom. You will be bursting out of your dresses or suffocate in your corsets unless your gowns are all altered."

Melissa coughed into her tea at the visuals that sprang to mind as a result of her lady's rather colorful commentary. Okamura's lips curved into a playful smile. "Too honest ??" the noblewoman asked.

"Please, Azumi, do not change a thing," the Queen replied with clear amusement, clearing her throat.

#stingslikeabee #❝ ic. ⋮ ask #❝ verse. ⋮ the goddess in pearls and pink ; the ruler of house and home #pregnancy tw #pregnant tw

[rosegoldandsequins]

@akiiyamashun​​   //   SENT FROM HERE.

∆ CATCH ∆  -  sender grabs receiver’s hand(s) to keep them from losing their balance/falling

❛ ❤ ⋯  

          The smell of sweet blossoms filled the evening air. It was the day in Solaris to celebrate the Goddess  ―  on the sixteenth of May, halfway through Her month, when the beauty of spring engulfed the land  ―  and a fitting party had been planned at the palace. As was the norm, the Queen’s closest were invited by default. All manner of nobles danced through the decorated hall, opened to the garden, as they drank fine wine and feasted on rich sweets. Flower petals littered the floor and grass. Gold lanterns shaped to look like blooming plants held small flames.

          Among the guests was Azumi Okamura, who was dressed in a beautiful pink gown threaded with chips of glittering stone to make it sparkle. She moved through the crowd gracefully, checking on this and that ; at her side stepped an enormous pale lion, who helped to clear the attendees for her by presence alone. In past years, the bulk of her unoccupied time was spent on the arm of her beloved Queen and close friend.

          However, as Solarian officials loved to gossip, someone else recently had the huntress’ eye. The diplomat from the Kingdom of Akari, planted to his post almost eleven months ago now, seemed to steal Okamura’s attention frequently. It was common knowledge that Shun Akiyama aspired to court her ( and tried often ). Okamura turned him away regularly, yet Akiyama was undeterred. Their game was frankly fascinating : though Okamura continuously refused the diplomat, they were impossible to pull away from one another. 

           As the hours bled together, the Queen’s right - hand became noticeably more tipsy. The alcohol offered tonight was quite strong, perhaps more than she was used to. She danced with flushed cheeks, laughing pleasantly with her glass in hand. Her shaky steps were monitored in part by Beau, and the lion butted his head into her palm in the hopes of encouraging his mother to hold onto his mane for stability. Okamura’s waves came undone from their exquisite pins. Long blonde locks flowed down around her shoulders.

          Akiyama began to stand closer to her  ―  never so near that he would offend or insinuate she needed the help but within reach should she require aid. It was his instinct to protect her, to guard her in case anyone attempted to take advantage of her, and Melissa smiled from across the festivities at the sight of her ally’s availability to her dear companion.

          Suddenly, in the midst of her twirling, Okamura tripped. Akiyama caught the slip out of the corner of his eye and reacted immediately. His hands found the noblewoman’s, grasping at them gently to keep her upright. The diplomat only intended to keep her on her feet, but Okamura had other plans. She sagged into Akiyama tiredly, forcing him to re - adjust to hold her properly, as her fingers curled into the front of his silky tunic. Beau grumbled from his place beside the pair.

          Akiyama’s palms rested on Okamura’s back respectfully, mindful of their placement. Her breath was shallow and clearly agitated from drinking. The scent of Okamura’s perfume ( vanilla mixed with oranges ) washed over the diplomat.

          For a moment, they were children again  ―  young and full of life, anchored to each other against the world  ―  and Okamura trusted him to keep her safe. Aware of the stares that turned to them, Akiyama cleared his throat. He reached up, unbuckled the cape around his throat, and draped it over Okamura’s shoulders. As the heavy fabric settled around her, the lady looked up : bright emerald eyes, a vulnerable expression, and a conviction that suggested she wouldn’t let go. Akiyama sighed to himself, nodding subtly to her. This was why, when all of the world insisted he was mad for pursuing her, Akiyama would not stop.

          “Come with me,” he murmured, untangling from her. “I’ll take you to your rooms. You need to rest.” The diplomat moved to her side, grip on top of the garment wrapped around her to prevent any unsavory speculation, and beckoned for the closest servant to approach. “Tell the Queen that the Lady Okamura is feeling unwell and that Lord Akiyama of Akari is seeing to her.” Akiyama spoke loudly for the eavesdroppers he knew were floating near. After the man scampered off with a nod, he turned back to Okamura.

          Akiyama walked her back to her suite attentively. The number of individuals around them gradually lessened until they were alone in the palace’s corridors. Away from prying gazes, Okamura leaned into Akiyama readily. Beau padded ahead of them, tail flicking in agitation.

          “You wore yourself out,” Akiyama whispered good - naturedly.

          Okamura issued a single note of ‘ mm ’ from between her painted lips. She glanced up at him from under her lashes. “You look good,” the lady slurred. “Ichigo  ―  the red.” 

          Akiyama chuckled softly. “I appreciate that. In fact, I still remember the day you told me that it was the best color for me. It seemed prudent to take the most beautiful woman in the world’s advice on such matters.” His words were fond but light : a testament to his desire to handle this situation delicately. Akiyama was well aware that she was intoxicated ( and he would never forgive himself if he crossed the established line between them even accidentally ).

          Two of Okamura’s aides were waiting for them at her door, likely summoned by the Queen’s own ladies - in - waiting in advance. The girls bowed respectfully to Akiyama. 

          “Get some sleep,” he said to his charge, tenderly removing her fingertips from his clothing. Okamura lifted her head. He accepted the back of her hand and kissed it.

          “Sir  ―  your cape,” interrupted one of the servants. 

          Her mistress, however, clutched the object tighter to her figure. With a glare that could have laid frost over the fresh flowers outside, Okamura staggered back from her aid. “It’s mine,” she said defensively. 

          Akiyama grinned. “So it is,” the diplomat confirmed, waving away the other’s concerns. 

          With his love safely in the hands of those who could bathe, change, and put her to bed, Akiyama traced his path back to the celebration. It was important he show his face there again to dissuade any ill talk about Okamura. As he walked, the Akarian dignitary couldn’t help but smile. Though the chill in the air was significantly worsened with the absence of his cape, the warmth in his chest made up for it.

#ooc. She 100% slept under his cape that night. :3 #❝ verse. ⋮ the goddess in pearls and pink ; the ruler of house and home #akiiyamashun #❝ ic. ⋮ ask #alcohol tw

[rosegoldandsequins]

@akiiyamashun​​   //   SENT FROM HERE.

❝ We make damn beautiful babies. ❞

❛ ❤ ⋯  

          There was something to be said for the comforts of domestic bliss, Okamura thought. She smiled softly at the sight of Emma scrambling out of the covers to give her father a tight hug before bed. It was their normal routine : Made normally laid down with little fuss, having accepted that her obstinance would be better served in the morning, while Emma insisted on every last moment with her parents that she could obtain before attempting to sleep. Okamura stroked Made’s hair soothingly as her sister’s arms were thrown around a chuckling Akiyama for the second time that evening. Her little shadow was already half – asleep, comforted by her mother.

          “Where are you going?” Akiyama asked as Emma slipped out of his grasp and onto the floor. The five – year – old paused, seeming to consider his question, and pathed around the furniture to where her mother sat.

          “You need to sleep, Emma,” Okamura scolded gently, tapping her daughter’s nose. “No more games, or I won’t bring you to tea tomorrow.”

          Emma stuck out her lower lip in her characteristic pout. She glanced at her father, as if looking for his support, but Akiyama shook his head. His wife’s word was law in their home, and he wouldn’t argue it when a matter as important as bedtime was being deliberated.

          The girl pointed at her mother’s rounded belly. “Good night to the baby,” she said. “Please?” With Okamura’s permission, she attempted to wrap her arms around her mother’s stomach completely. An exaggerated kiss was given to the curved shape ( more realistically, the fabric of Okamura’s loose nightgown ). 

          “You’ll get to meet her soon,” Okamura murmured, patting Emma’s back. It was impossible for her to bend down to hug her daughter in return, but the sentiment was there. 

          Emma laughed at the feeling of her unborn sibling moving in her mother’s womb, perhaps reacting to the sudden presence pressed into the side of it. From across the bed, Akiyama grinned fondly. He couldn’t be more enraptured with the scene. The love of his life, their twins, and the sweet interaction with the couple’s next child ( a third daughter, Okamura insisted, much to their son’s dismay ) were a sort of heaven to watch. 

          All the Akiyamas’ children were excited by the thought of another addition to their brood. Though the girls understood less about the process of pregnancy given their age than Niran, they were still fascinated by the changes in their mother and the promise of a baby. They loved fawning over their cousin Kazuya, who the Queen had given birth to almost a year ago now ; the thought of their own infant residing with them was akin to receiving years’ worth of gifts at once.

          Okamura’s words drew Akiyama out of his reflection. “Go back to your father, setoka,” she said firmly, detaching Emma’s grip. “It’s time for bed.”

          Sensing that her mother would not allow further stalling, Emma skittered back to Akiyama. She climbed into the warmth of their blankets as bidden. The diplomat tucked her in and kissed her forehead. Emma snuggled in next to her sister, yawning quietly. Okamura knew they would be tangled together by the morning. For as different as their personalities were, she had never seen two closer siblings. They slept best with the other to hold, and any efforts to try to give them separate spaces always ended in vain.

          Akiyama stood up from his perch. He pathed to his wife dutifully and offered a hand to help her rise. Okamura accepted it gratefully. The couple’s next stop was the doorway to their son’s room. Niran was clearly out already, having stayed in bed to rest for most of the day due to a persistent cold. Okamura’s fingertips brushed against his brow to check for a fever. Relieved at the lack of one, she stepped away to let Akiyama situate the boy better among his covers. Niran grumbled, black locks falling back into his face, but he didn’t wake. 

          With their parental duties accomplished, Akiyama and Okamura retreated to their own chambers. The lady pondered drawing a bath, knowing that it would help ease the deep ache in her back. As she stood to the side, lost in thought, her husband slid behind her. He moved her tresses to the side and nuzzled into the curve of her shoulder, which was bare due to the design of her dress. Okamura let herself sink into his torso, exhaling slowly.

          “How are you feeling?” he whispered, kissing her soft skin.

          “Heavy, hot, and sore,” Okamura listed with a grin. Her fingers stroked his hands as they curved around her front, finding purchase under her stomach. “ — but I’m alright, ichigo.” 

          “Mm, that reminds me.” Akiyama lifted his head. “When I went to pick up medicine from the physician for Niran earlier, one of the healers told me something that might help you. Stay relaxed, my love.” 

          He shifted his palms down to cup the bottom of her belly with a surer grip. Slowly, gently, Akiyama raised the bulk of it up ever so slightly. The motion meant that he held most of its weight, temporarily removing the pressure from Okamura’s poor spine. Judging by the way his wife’s eyes fluttered shut and she melted into him, Akiyama judged the advised trick to be a success. He made a mental note to thank that healer the next time he saw her. While Okamura enjoyed this sport of relief, her husband peppered the side of her neck with light kisses.

          Akiyama inevitably lowered her stomach with great care. “I’m glad that helped,” he said tenderly, choosing to massage light circles into her belly after. 

          “Thank you, Shun,” Okamura purred tiredly, raising a hand to toy with the ends of his dark hair. She hoped that this child would inherit his beautiful color.

          “If I had learned it sooner,” Akiyama lamented. With a mischievous smile of his own, he pressed his lips to her cheek. “I know for the next one, at least.”

          “ THE NEXT ONE ? ” Okamura echoed in mock disbelief. The lady laughed, moving to scratch at his scruffy facial hair. Her husband chuckled breathily, tickling the side of her face. “The Goddess willing — if you want them, then you will be carrying whatever children come next, Shun. I’m done.”

          “Isn’t that what you said last time?” the diplomat teased. He held her tighter for a moment. “Besides, Azumi, you must admit : we make damn beautiful babies.”

          Okamura’s laughter grew louder, and she shook her head. She turned in his arms and sighed up at him, as near to her husband as her stomach would allow her to be. “You are lucky I love you, ichigo,” she responded playfully. 

          Akiyama ducked down to kiss her properly. “I’m the luckiest man in the world because of that, my star,” he muttered.

#akiiyamashun #❝ ic. ⋮ ask #pregnancy tw #❝ verse. ⋮ the goddess in pearls and pink ; the ruler of house and home

[rosegoldandsequins]

@stingslikeabee​​​   //   SENT FROM HERE.

❛ do you remember when we first met? ❜

❛ ❤ ⋯  

         Okamura turned her face into her pillow. Under the blankets, her arms hugged her still - rounded stomach. She resisted the urge to stroke it, as she often had over the last few weeks. Once they started moving. The lady sniffed. Her eyelids were heavy, and they felt like they were caked together with sand.

           Soft footsteps in the room caused Okamura’s eyes squeezed tighter instinctively, and she whimpered, tiredly begging the individual with that brief noise to leave her be. As grateful as she was for the hands of the healers ( who kept her alive ) and the embrace of her husband, she wanted to be left alone.

           To grieve the emptiness of her womb, which refused to lose its shape in spite of their absence. To whisper in her bed to the goddess of this land, whose faith she adopted years ago, and ask why her daughters were plucked from her body. 

            Okamura trembled at the touch to her shoulder. It was gentle. Comforting, even. One moment later, the weight on the furniture shifted. The noblewoman raised her hands. To her surprise, they brushed into the familiar fabric of a silken nightgown. Okamura inhaled deeply and opened her eyes. The face of her dearest friend was revealed, expression tinged with sorrow. Without hesitation, Okamura moved closer. Never mind that it still hurt  ―  the promised companionship was worth the flash of pain that twisted her fair features. She buried herself into Melissa’s chest, one arm slung around the Queen ; the royal responded in turn, situating her body to best hold Okamura.

          Melissa stroked her friend’s hair soothingly, lips connecting to the top of it occasionally. The amount of knots in the treasured golden waves spoke to the distress of these past few days. She made a note to bring a brush with her in the morning and work out the worst of them. For now, she simply wanted to savor the fact Okamura was alive  ―  and support her in a way that their unique bond allowed. Melissa murmured softly to the noblewoman ; she was not at all alarmed when some sort of dam broke inside her friend.

          Okamura’s tears dripped onto Melissa’s skin. She hated to cry in front of her children, and so the amount of them had built up inside of her since she awoke to this twisted reality. With her fingers curled into the back of Melissa’s clothing, Okamura wept harshly, appeasing the horrid hole in her heart. 

           “Why did She take them?” the blonde hiccupped. Melissa hugged her. 

           “I don’t know, Azumi,” the Queen responded, “but She must have a reason.”

           Okamura gradually calmed in Melissa’s grasp. The royal rubbed circles into the back of her neck. She wished that she had better answers for her companion, but there was no way to know why the Goddess chose to take away this pregnancy and left others safe. They could only trust in their faith and take solace in the belief that Okamura would meet her missed daughters in another life.

          “Azumi?” Melissa asked. At a nod from Okamura, the Queen continued : “Do you remember when we first met?” 

          “You were my father’s student,” the lady replied hoarsely.

          “I was.” Melissa chuckled lightly. Her knuckles trailed along Okamura’s cheek. “The first lesson I was to have with him, though, do you remember? His carriage was damaged, and he was behind meeting me. I was sitting there with my books open and waiting for him when you came in to look for him.”

          The Queen smiled. “I’ve never forgotten the way you came and sat beside me, regardless of protocol. We became such great friends in that hour alone, I swear.”

           “You looked lonely,” Okamura muttered. “I didn’t want to leave you there.” Her voice was muffled but faintly hopeful. Recalling these old memories seemed to be helping  ―  at the very least, it took the edge off of the immediate hurt. To think of the years they shared in their youth was an excellent distraction.

          Melissa kissed Okamura’s hair affectionately. “  .    .    .  and I won’t be leaving you,” she added, keeping her friend close. “Do you remember the next spring, Azumi? The time I taught you to ride a horse?”

#❝ ic. ⋮ ask #stingslikeabee #❝ verse. ⋮ the goddess in pearls and pink ; the ruler of house and home #miscarriage tw #pregnancy tw

[rosegoldandsequins]

@akiiyamashun​   //   UNPROMPTED ASK.

It was the middle of the night - the palace was quiet as it normally was during such hours, except for the occasional footfalls of a guard or two doing their rounds. Akiyama would ordinarily be asleep himself, happy to share his dreaming time with the longtime crush finally turned wife - but that reality had been disrupted after the arrival of the twins. But the fact that they had two gorgeous, baby girls to take care of was not the present reason for his lack of sleep. The diplomat had one of the girls on his arms, rocking her softly with the expertise that no one anticipated he would acquire so quickly as a parent, and moved the pages of some of his manuscripts whenever Emma offered him an opening to do so. His eyes followed his own notes carefully, the light of a few candles not the ideal set-up, but enough. It took a moment for him to realize that they were no longer alone - Okamura was at the threshold of their suite, nursing Made and looking at him with something that looked like concern (unless the shadows were playing tricks on his tired mind). Suddenly aware of the time, he moved from the chair and got up, walking over to his wife and pressing a soft kiss on her temple, eyes going down to gaze lovingly at his other child so peaceful in the arms of her mother. “Did I wake either one of you up? I apologize if I did, my star,” he murmured against her skin, a second press of lips there for good measure before taking a step back to gaze at Okamura. He didn’t know how she did it - running a castle, looking after her children, being the incredible wife she was to him... The blonde noblewoman was just infinite in her resources and tricks, and it never failed to take the breath away from Akiyama. “I was having trouble sleeping and I decided to play a bit with Emma until she settled down,” he explained in whispers, but it was clear that the newly-minted father was successful - the girl in his arms was serene and fast asleep, despite their hushed conversation. Given how unlikely sleep felt to Akiyama earlier, he figured that he could give his spouse all the rest she could get while he entertained one of the twins and went over the refugee camp notes - it had been his main project as of late, and he had been working alongside both Daigo and Melissa tirelessly to find a solution. But there was one of them - a young boy - who was more than a professional concern for Akiyama; it had been visible to anyone with a good eye (as Majima liked to say) that a bond had formed since their first encounter, and the diplomat was struggling to reconcile his life without doing something for him. Food and shelter were no longer enough - he felt responsible and inexplicably drawn to the boy. His drive to survive, his intelligent eyes, his fearlessness - so young and so brave. “My star... I have been thinking,” he began, chocolate-colored irises finally settling on her emerald eyes, inhaling softly before speaking up again, “There is a young man among the refugees who I have been sharing meals with, listening to his tales and trying to understand his past a bit more. He has no one else, even long before the war came to him. It made me pause and... Consider whether you would like to meet him, my love?” Akiyama, realized then, was nervous. He hadn’t dared to voice these thoughts, but now he was mid-speech, he could no longer hold these back in, “I just cannot help but think we could learn so much from him... And he, in turn, could have such a better life with us.”

❛ ❤ ⋯  

        It was strange : how easy it was to get used to resting next to one’s significant other. Okamura’s lashes fluttered in the gloom as she blindly searched in her sleep, fingers curling into empty covers ; the absence of her husband seemed to draw the lady out of her dreams. Perhaps that was why the quality of her sleep had deteriorated over the last hour and become fitful  ―  she knew in her heart that he was away. The blonde sat up, which attracted the attention of the other warm body on the furniture. Beau would have ordinarily been too large and heavy for a bed, but Okamura’s accommodations for her unique companion included metal bracing under the wood and an extraordinarily - sized mattress. Sensing his mother was awake, Beau huffed from his place at her feet and crawled into Akiyama’s spot. He sniffed the blankets deeply, pawing at them, as if he too was looking for the disappeared diplomat. Okamura smiled fondly. She kissed his forehead, smoothed some rogue pieces of his mane, and got out of bed.

          To see that one of their daughters was also missing brought a strange sense of relief to the lady of the house. Emma was her father’s girl, seeming to calm easier in his arms, and Okamura assumed Akiyama had stolen her away to bond with or care for her. He was a dedicated parent to both of their babies, certainly, but no one could deny the special link he shared with Emma. The youngest of the Akiyamas’ twins, as they affectionately referred to her, given that she arrived second to Made that afternoon.

          Okamura slipped a thin robe on over her pale nightgown and lifted their remaining daughter to her chest. Made cooed softly at being disturbed. As her eyes still clouded with sleep focused on where she was, the infant’s mouth puckered expectantly. Her mother laughed, swept her lengthy waves over her shoulder, and slid the loose sleeves of her clothing to her elbow. Made quickly took to Okamura’s breast, curled fist sat against the side of it and wispy lashes half - closed contentedly. 

           “Hello, shikwasa,” Okamura purred, fingers carefully stroking the child’s side. “Let’s go find your sister, hm?” 

          With a quiet command for Beau to follow her, Okamura left their family’s bedroom. It didn’t take long for her to discover where her husband sat, further out in one of the sitting rooms that occasionally doubled as a makeshift office. When the twins first arrived and his wife was still healing, Akiyama had used the space more religiously for his work  ―  it felt prudent for him to stay close to all three of the ladies in his life. Now, with the babies having grown somewhat and allowing their parents a consistent schedule, this room was occupied less. Knowing this, Okamura’s brows knit together out of concern. She was ready to call out to him ; however, Akiyama appeared to notice her first.

          “You did wake me,” Okamura murmured, “but only because I missed you, ichigo.” Her smile was tender as her palm came to cup his cheek, tone light in spite of its teasing edge. The way she was with him   ―  so playful with her claws sheathed, so careful and delicate in how she caressed his skin and examined his handsome features for signs of exhaustion or illness  ―  was a side of her that few ever saw but he had always been granted access to. Even when she turned him away in their youth, it was with a rare, delighted warmth that acted as a beckoning finger. 

         Okamura glanced down at Emma. She didn’t dare disturb the girl. Instead, the lady leaned into Akiyama with the intention of leading him toward a sofa where they could sit together. As a family. Their daughters were balanced carefully. Emma continued to sleep, nestled into her father’s middle with a tight hold on his shirt ; Made’s suckling was significantly slowed ( indicating that she was full and merely at peace latched there ) but Okamura left her be for the girl’s comfort. Okamura sat flush with her husband, watching him intently. A hand, free of its usual adornments, sat on his thigh. 

           With her hair lack of jewels and face bare, Okamura would have been alien to anyone outside of these walls. Around him, though, she didn’t concern herself with her appearance. He really did mean it when he insisted he loved her no matter how she looked  ―  a hard lesson for the lady to grasp but one Akiyama had administered patiently for years. Ordinarily, she was quite particular about how the world saw her ( especially as she adjusted to her new body after bearing their twins ), but in his presence all of that fell away.

          Their little family’s silence inevitably drew out of Akiyama what Okamura was after : the reason for his midnight escape from their bedroom. Her fingers squeezed his leg reassuringly when the diplomat faltered. Akiyama’s nerves drove home the importance of the subject to her. He wasn’t an individual who lost his verbal footing often, and that prompted an unexpected lump of emotion to rise in her throat. Okamura swallowed it back, thumb rubbing circles into his trousers.

           “Darling  ―  ” the blonde whispered, craning her neck up to kiss him briefly and hopefully de - fang whatever anxieties he faced about the subject.

          The refugee camps had haunted him lately, she knew. It was easy to see how dedicated he was to the subject of them : spending his working hours with the affected individuals themselves ; taking notes religiously about their origins and needs ; pulling the influential strings at his disposal to reunite as many families as he could. The political uncertainty of the refugees’ status weighed heavily on him. Okamura tried to support him by funneling as many resources to his office as she could ( which could be dispersed to those who needed them ), but she could do little to break the developed chains on his heart. His beautiful, ever - bleeding heart  ―  a defining trait she had seen even when it was temporarily buried under his parents’ efforts to make him as dutiful and callous as they and the rest of their home’s wealthy class. One of the aspects of him that she had always loved.

          Okamura drew back from her husband. “He is important to you, Shun,” she replied first, summarizing the emotion she sensed in those last words alone. ‘ With us ’ was a rather significant choice of phrase, and the lady was not opposed to it.

          “Let him come here,” she continued. “I can arrange for a meal in our rooms, where it will simply be us. The girls can stay close, then, and he won’t be overrun with excess attention or become the subject of gossip. I am glad to meet anyone whose struck you so, Shun.” Okamura drew a deeper breath, biting at her lower lip for a moment. Her touch rose from his leg to her husband’s head, holding him by the back of his neck in order to stroke it soothingly. “If this young man decides that he enjoyed the experience with us, perhaps we can extend an  .    .    .  open, permanent invitation to him, as you suggested.” The blonde chuckled lightly at a gurgle from Emma, who was finally starting to fuss and wake in spite of her father’s rocking. “  ―  pending the permission of the babies and Beau, of course.” 

          Okamura pressed her mouth to his again, sinking into the embrace with determination. She nipped his lip in an effort to lighten the mood as they parted at Emma’s insistence, grinning tiredly. They exchanged their charges with evident practice. Made squirmed slightly at being removed from her mother, but she soon settled into her father’s arms to nap. Okamura fixed that side of her sleeping things and lowered the other for Emma to feed without complaint, guiding their youngest to her desired place at Okamura’s chest. Milk was indeed what Emma was interested in ; she quieted as swiftly as her sister before her.

          Okamura turned to Akiyama, nuzzling into his side. She looked up at him, emerald eyes alight with determination. Her fingers joined with his in her lap. “Ride out and fetch him later today, ichigo,” the lady suggested, cheek to his shoulder. “The sooner he is  .    .    .  home, safe  ―  I’m sure you’ll feel better.”

#akiiyamashun #ooc. LISTEN I AM SO IN LOVE WITH THEM OKAY. #❝ ic. ⋮ ask #❝ verse. ⋮ the goddess in pearls and pink ; the ruler of house and home #nudity tw #( Sort of. Babies = sometimes boobs. ) #pregnancy tw

[rosegoldandsequins]

❛ ❤ ⋯ CONTINUATION // @stingslikeabee

         Okamura parted from her friend briefly when Melissa excused herself. She stepped to her husband and placed a hand on his chest. “Would you mind putting Emma down for a nap, ichigo?” the lady murmured, sweetening her question with a kiss to the corner of his lips. “I’ll keep Made with me.  ―  just for now.” Okamura’s hand rested against the diplomat’s chest for a moment before she moved away. 

          As she refocused on their beloved Queen, Okamura’s emerald eyes caught the embrace between Daigo and Melissa. Her pink - stained lips curved up into a knowing smile at the sight of it, and she giggled at the thought of what Akiyama’s expression looked like behind her. Ah, so war had accelerated things. 

          The blonde raised an eyebrow at Melissa’s return. She linked her arm with her friend, leaning into Melissa’s side to listen. “Mm, so it would seem,” Okamura teased softly. “I cannot wait to hear what situations you wished for my counsel in.” With Made nestled comfortably in the crook of her arm, the Head of the Household fell into step with the royal. A glance was spared for her husband, whose dark eyes were filled with questions.

         A small procession of servants and dutiful ladies - in - waiting followed the pair to Melissa’s chambers. Once inside, Okamura placed her daughter gently on the Queen’s bed. As Made cooed from her place on the luxurious fabrics, Okamura set to work shooing out the rest of the assembled. Though some of the individuals grumbled, few vocalized their disappointment at not being present for the more intimate dealings of the Queen’s historic return. The combination of Beau at Okamura’s hip and the determination on the fair face of the royal seat’s right - hand was persuasive enough to chase away everyone else present. As far as Okamura was concerned, they were all well - meaning nuisances. Her friend needed the chance to breathe, not to be fawned over ; besides, there was the possibility of physical changes to Melissa’s body that she may not want to share right away. War was a horrendous, awful thing, and Okamura couldn’t imagine Melissa had escaped unscathed.

         The lady breathed a sigh of relief after the last person left. She bolted the door herself. Beau rose up to rest his great head beside Made watchfully, snuffling at the familiar little form that smelled so much like his mother. Okamura pinned back her waves and set to work freeing Melissa from her plate. The Queen guided her around the most complex parts. Soon, the two were lifting off the last of the exquisitely - shaped metal. 

          “There,” the blonde declared, squeezing Melissa’s hand affectionately. She gathered Made and followed Melissa into the adjoining room. Sensing that her ruler would need a hot bath, Okamura had insisted that clear, warm water be maintained in the tub since this morning’s news that Melissa would reach her home by the afternoon. A plethora of oils and scented soaps were laid out on a stand at the ornate tub’s side with a stack of folded, clean towels and a coarse - bristled brush. 

          Okamura offered her hand to help Melissa step in. With Made babbling insistently, she took a seat on a small stool beside the furniture. She quickly unclasped the side of her bodice, folding back the layers of fabric in order to expose one of her breasts. The discreet mechanisms attached to the fabric were life - savers. In her homeland, such an innovation would have been unheard of  ―  an Akarian noblewoman was expected to give her infant to a wet nurse as soon as possible so that she could return to her wifely duties faster. In Solaris, however, the bond between a mother and her child ( especially a daughter ) was praised, and Okamura was free to feed her twins as she decided. It was one of the many perks to living here. Made latched on gladly, quieting almost immediately, which allowed Okamura to focus on the Queen.

          “It was difficult to acquire non - essentials during the fighting,” the lady said. “  ―  but I was able to convince old allies of ours to help me keep your favorite salts, petals, and the like freshly stocked while you were away. I was never sure when you would be here, of course ; nonetheless, I insisted it be ready for you at any notice.” Okamura nodded toward the assembled bathing pleasantries with a tilt of her head, hands keeping Made close and soothed while she fed. “Your leg  .    .    .  are you alright, monaka?”

#❝ verse. ⋮ the goddess in pearls and pink ; the ruler of house and home #stingslikeabee #nudity tw

[rosegoldandsequins]

Melissa found her friend at the gardens - hardly a chance guess with an upcoming celebration and given how important flowers were for the current monarch and Solarian custom in general. Some of the servants were also whispering about a very talented girl working there - one who had managed to surpass the expectations of Melissa's first hand and in charge of all household matters, which seemingly explained the additional time Okamura spent outdoors these days.

At the queen's approach, people naturally bowed and stepped away - leaving the path to Okamura free of any disturbances and which also afforded them some privacy despite not being indoors The brunette smiled warmly at her friend, noticing how the younger lady's demeanor softened upon her arrival: for a moment, both their roles and public personas were placed aside so they could talk more freely and mostly as friends.

And despite the royal issue at hand, it was as a companion that Melissa came to her closest confidant; as a queen, it would have been her choice alone to decide on such topic, but she was better than that. It concerned the lives of the Akiyamas, and she knew better than move before not only discussing, but giving the couple an opportunity to voice their decision.

"Azumi - I have received word from your homeland. My Akarian counterpart would like to have Shun back to assist with domestic matters and foster other diplomatic ties; it would seem that our nations are sufficiently bonded in his eyes," the woman said with a tiny bit of mirth; after all, given the way they were holding hands and had been steadfast friends since children, it was no exaggeration.

"I also refuse to answer before you and Shun give me your decision. I know you are both not Solarian by birth, but... I swear by the Goddess, Azumi. We have no rule saying my permanent advisor must have been born here; your family is the most brilliant testament to how much you honor the realm. We have a dozen skilled diplomats that I could call back home and offer as more than adequate replacements if you would like to permanently move here."

It was almost laughable - the idea that they were just temporarily living there, in Solaris, as guests. As far as the queen as concerned, she couldn't do it without Shun and Azumi - not anymore; regardless of their blood, Melissa trusted them more than most of the kingdom, and she would rather engage in a negotiation with the Akarian king to repay him somehow than seeing them going away. But that, of course... Depended on what the Akiyamas wanted.

Melissa could only hope that her expectations were the same ones in Okamura's heart.

❛ ❤ ⋯

Okamura could tell the moment Melissa appeared in the same area of the garden as her. The lowered voices, rustling gowns, and quick steps away all alerted the noblewoman that her friend was here. Quietly, she abandoned her inspection of a crop of fragrant purple flowers and straightened.

She turned around gracefully, dropping into a well - practiced though shallow curtsy ; the blonde spread her skirts out in the same motion to show her respect. It was not a gesture that she would perform if they were in a private room — in a more public space, however, there was always the chance a stray eye could see them. After a few seconds had passed, Okamura returned to a casual stance and abandoned the manners that the presence of the Crown would normally require. An easy, fond smile spread across her fair features.

Okamura accepted Melissa's hands without question. Holding on to each other like this had long been an anchor for both women. It tied them together and made them feel less alone. As the Queen spoke, her lady moved, opting to sit them on a close bench. She had recently given birth to the Akiyamas' fifth child ( yet another girl ), and her energy was not fully restored. The priestesses of the Goddess said it was likely due to her age — Okamura was hardly young anymore, as she often quipped.

At Melissa's declaration of what the Akarian King desired, the blonde suddenly squeezed her friend's fingers. She inhaled sharply, clearly affected by the news. It took a moment for Okamura to recover. Notably, the fierceness that she held Melissa's hands with remained.

Leave . . . Solaris ?? The thought would have been absurd, if not for the gentle reminder from Melissa that Azumi and Shun weren't true citizens. Most days, Okamura forgot that she not born to this land. Her adopted father suspected she was half - Solarian, perhaps even full given her looks, but no one from the orphanage she was found in could confirm or deny it.

"I do not know what Shun will say," Okamura finally mustered, swallowing past a lump in her throat, "but I suspect that he will feel similarly. Of course I will stay, Melissa." Her insertion of the Queen's name, as opposed to her affectionate pet name for the brunette, spoke to the seriousness of their conversation. "My life is here — our lives. Niran is a man ; he could make his own choice. The rest of the children . . . Made and Emma are entering their first social season. I could not stomach uprooting them."

She untangled one of her hands and pressed it to her middle in a silent acknowledgment of how nauseous the very idea of leaving made her. Okamura knew that she would suffocate in Akarian society, especially now that she had spent decades across the border. There was no question for her. Hot tears prickled in the corners of her eyes, and she cursed the tumultuous state her emotions were in following the arrival of any new child.

Melissa moved closer to her companion, attempting to soothe her. It was impossible to hide the relief in her expression, no matter how she tried to stifle it.

"Shun is with the baby and Beau," Okamura continued. "We can go speak with him." Her shining eyes caught and held the Queen's beautiful honey irises. "I know I spoke of our daughters, but I also simply cannot imagine going away from you, monaka. You are my family — I would not last a fortnight without you."

#stingslikeabee #❝ verse. ⋮ the goddess in pearls and pink ; the ruler of house and home #❝ ic. ⋮ ask

[rosegoldandsequins]

❝ They totally wanted to build the pillow fort, not me. ❞ (for any verse of your choosing!)

❛ ❤ ⋯  

Okamura waved her hand, promptly dismissing the servant who had moved forward to announce her at the door to the royal rooms. He was new, judging by his nervousness at the sight of the rather impressive lion at her hip. The lady couldn't help but smile at the poor boy, though her painted lips curving up into one of her infamous little smirks did little to soothe him. With a clipped hmph, Okamura let herself in through the grand doors.

Beau butted his head against his mother's hand. She scratched at his fur idly, as glad as ever for his company. The fearsome cat's muzzle was graying — a testament to his age, now just over twenty — but still he walked with her. There was hardly a moment that the two were apart, and many considered the old lion to be an extension of the noblewoman.

Okamura followed the sound of laughter leisurely. Inside these more intimate quarters, her shoulders fell. Sighing softly, the blonde reached up, plucked out the elaborate pin holding her waves back, and allowed her hair to tumble down freely. Okamura affixed the piece to her dress, which was a beautiful pink color accented with gold ( like so much else in her wardrobe ).

She found them in a spacious sitting room. Emma, one of her older daughters, was the easiest to spot : the fourteen - year - old had the same distinct yellow hair as her twin. In contrast, the royal princesses and prince she currently played with — Hikari, Yayoi, and Edgar — all possessed dark, richly - colored locks of either brown or black. Okamura giggled as she watched the four children tumble together, seemingly acting out some kind of battle amidst a . . . fort made of pillows ?? and cushions, it appeared, from the furniture. Her emerald eyes glittered with amusement as they settled on her very dear friend, who did not yet realize they were being watched.

The Queen of Solaris was dressed down for her station, but she nonetheless looked as radiant as the sun. Melissa's cheeks were flushed, and her simple dress was wrinkled. Okamura ( correctly ) assumed that the Queen had been a part of the makeshift war during the afternoon. At the sovereign's side was a plush cushion, pulled off of a couch. Atop it was her youngest. Osamu was fast asleep, snoring lightly as his mother's fingers carded through the toddler's wispy hair. In Melissa's lap, a baby fussed.

At the sound of Ellie's complaint, Beau padded forward. Melissa smiled at the lion. She allowed him to sniff the littlest Akiyama without any protest, knowing well that the predator was practically a kitten around his less hairy siblings. Once Beau was satisfied that Ellie was in no danger, he turned his attention to the older children. They squealed with delight as the lion entered the field, thoroughly destroying the fort and changing the game.

Okamura approached the Queen. Melissa patted the floor next to her. The lady nodded and lowered herself down, smoothing her dress out to the best of her ability. She gently picked up Ellie and inspected the girl. After confirming that the baby was dry and comfortable, Okamura opened the clasps sewn into the side of her gown. Ellie responded immediately to her mother's offered breast.

"I thought so," Melissa murmured, chuckling. "It's lucky that Osamu needs to suckle still ; I could have fed her, Azumi, if you had wished to stay longer. I know how you feel about wet nurses."

Okamura scrunched up her nose. "I was quite done with being examined, monaka," she replied playfully. " — but I do appreciate the offer. You know this."

The Queen grinned. "I would imagine your health check - up went the same as my last."

"Everything with you appears physically fine for a woman of your age, but you are advised against producing another heir." Okamura repeated the declaration with an acidic edge, which made the royal at her side laugh. "As if we will avoid bedding our husbands until our wombs dry up. Neither of them would last a fortnight, regardless."

"Mm." Melissa hummed in agreement. "The healers speak as though we can defy the will of the Goddess, as well. Did you remind them that you were barren for six years before Merveille ?? and I for nearly three ?? We can only politely refuse the Goddess for so long."

Okamura glanced between Osamu and Ellie for a moment. Their miracles — one born after a dangerous miscarriage, one lucky to have survived his gestation at all. The Dojimas' littlest prince stirred, mumbling for his mother ; instinctively, Melissa moved him into the space previously occupied by Ellie. Osamu fit against her perfectly.

"How was he today ??" Okamura asked.

Melissa held the boy tighter, thumb stroking his cheek. It was faintly sunken and sallow. The tinge of yellow to his flesh was emphasized by the Queen's pale digits. "He is here," the sovereign said simply, drawing a shuddering breath after she spoke.

Okamura felt a strong swell of emotion rise up within her. She reached for Melissa with her free hand and leaned the brunette into her. The lady rested their foreheads together. A gesture they had once done as girls, then meaningless affection, but now one that meant so much more. They had shared it after every birth, after every loss, after every difficult day any of their offspring faced. From the first time Niran was bucked from a horse ; to the week Hikari was bedridden with a terrible fever ; to the night Okamura lost her daughters ; to every morning that Okamura clasped Melissa's hands while they prayed for Osamu to stay in her belly. Their lives and the lives of their respective broods were twined together, and Okamura could not imagine this journey without the Queen.

Melissa held fast to Okamura's forearm, comforted by her dear companion, until Edgar yelped. Both mothers immediately came to attention.

"Beau," Okamura scolded. The lion huffed at her, clearly intent on keeping Edgar under his paw while the other children climbed over his back in a bid to free the captured prince.

Satisfied that Ellie was securely latched, Okamura rose to her feet. She gathered up her skirts to the best of her ability with one hand and began stepping over the remnants of the fortress. Behind her, Melissa laughed.

"They totally wanted to build the pillow fort," the Queen quipped. "Not me."

Okamura joined in her friend's laughter. "I am sure," she replied. "Allow me to free your valiant knights from this odd - looking dragon. Once he is properly vanquished, I'm sure they will have fun rebuilding it. To Your Majesty's specification, of course."

#ooc. I HAVE BEEN FEELING THE MOMS FEELS LATELY. #❝ verse. ⋮ the goddess in pearls and pink ; the ruler of house and home #❝ ic. ⋮ ask #stingslikeabee #pregnancy tw #miscarriage tw