Courtship Rituals
folder
G through L › Lazytown
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
4,836
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
G through L › Lazytown
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
4,836
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Lazytown, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 5
Milford opened the door of the room Nurse Lee had indicated, hiding the quickly gathered bunch of flowers behind his back. "Bessie?"
"Milford, finally," she said. She'd taken her hair down and braided it, and was wearing no make-up, and seemed more beautiful than ever.
"Whatever's the matter?" He asked, producing the flowers and putting them in the vase on the bedside table. "Number Seven couldn't tell me anything except that you fainted and were admitted."
"I stopped having periods. I just thought I'd reached the change, but it turns out I'm five months pregnant, and I've got high blood pressure. The doctor thinks it may even be pre-eclampsia, she has to do more tests."
"Oh," Milford said. He glanced at the floor. The bed was too high to be easily reached when kneeling, but on the other hand things deserved to be done properly, even in this irregular situation.
"Don't you even think it, Milford Meanswell," Bessie said sternly before he had a chance to move. "Do you think I decided to use the title 'Ms' on a whim?"
Milford stared at her for a second, stunned. "Bessie, I'd never make you do anything you didn't want to, including giving up your name. I just thought ..."
She took a deep breath and patted her hair. "It doesn't matter." She then glanced at the door, and added in a low, confidential voice, "You'll never guess what Dr Honey let slip about Sportacus, though."
Robbie ran a careful, deliberate feeling, finger over the bite on Sportacus's neck. "You're still marked from last time," he noted aloud.
Sportacus cast him a drowsy glance from where his head was pillowed on Robbie's thigh. "It was only a few days ago, of course I am." Something occurred to him though, and he sat up, rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes, and looked Robbie over. Aside from the plastered leg, all Robbie's injuries were fresh. Not so much as a greenish fading bruise.
"Did Dr Honey say when she expects the plaster to come off?"
"She wants to take another x-ray on Monday, maybe then, if not, Wednesday. Why?"
"If I broke my leg, I'd be in plaster six weeks, not six days."
"Six weeks?" Robbie yelped. The marriage bond, not nearly as clear or strong as his connection with his gens, but still there if he listened, was strongly flavoured with Robbie's surprise and discomfit.
"Most people heal at about that rate," Sportacus said. "I guess it makes sense for you to be faster, though ..."
"I knew Humans healed slowly, I thought it was because they have no magic."
"Some Elves can heal with magic, but we have to learn how, otherwise it's just our bodies."
"I considered not keeping it when the doctor said it was dangerous, but," she sighed, "it's too late already."
"You're the important one," Milford said fondly. "Don't go being noble. It's barely even baby-shaped yet."
"I mean I'm too far along for it to be legal. I thought it was only four months, but Dr Honey measured her on the ultrasound, and she's too big."
"She? It's a girl?" Milford felt his eyes go wide, as suddenly he realised the pregnancy was a potential person, not just a threat, to Bessie's health, to their respectability. He suddenly itched to discuss naming her.
"Yes, a girl. Now be a dear and go get me some water. You gave all mine to the flowers."
"That can't be right!" Trixie said aloud in the middle of project work time. Everybody looked up disapprovingly, then went back to their work, except Stephanie.
"What can't be?" she asked quietly, scooting her chair over.
"This book. It says Sprites are Unseelie." Sprites couldn't be bad faeries, Stephanie was one.
"No, that's right."
"But you're ..."
"You think I don't know that?" she hissed.
"Stephanie?" Trixie was very confused.
She took a very deep breath, and held it for a second. "I'll explain when you're older, Trixie," she said, plastering on a smile and her voice full of fake-sounding cheer, a very poor replacement for her normal optimism.
Sportacus's brother didn't seem to like Robbie. Since he looked and otherwise acted exactly the same way, and Robbie had thought Sportacus was temperamentally incapable of disliking people, this was really quite disturbing. The sister and aunt chattered through wedding plans around them, mentioning several dozen little marriage traditions they obviously took for granted and he'd never heard of before. He found himself wishing for the simplicity of a Gremlin "I'll keep you", or even the human "something borrowed, something blue" that he'd thought so ridiculous once.
There was a pause, and his aunt dug through her bag, pulled out a grey velvet jeweller's box and handed it to him. "Now, I understand you wouldn't have got Decius Sportacus a bell because your people don't, but it really is a disgrace for a married elf to not be belled, so I threw a little thing together in my airship this morning." The 'thrown together' 'little thing' was a small royal blue glass bell, delicately etched with flowers, and Cursive Faerie that read 'Decius Sportacus Rotten' running around the edge, tear-drop-shaped clapper on a fine silver chain lying beside it on the velvet liner. "I made sure the clapper is detachable, because I know Sportacuses run around too much to be jingling every time they move." She turned to Sportacus, the silver bell on her hat tinkling softly with the movement. "I am sorry it's only glass, but I was just expecting a quick trip, and only my glass-blowing things weren't in the house."
Sportacus smiled at her. "That's quite all right, Aunt Argenta Jewelia, it's the thought that counts." He paused, brow furrowing. "It might break, though."
Robbie muttered a quick anti-breaking spell over it. "That should have care of that. Now what do I do with it?"
His sister reached into her backpack, and pulled out a reel of blue thread and a needle. "You sew it on, of course. Ten, give him your hat."
"Milford, finally," she said. She'd taken her hair down and braided it, and was wearing no make-up, and seemed more beautiful than ever.
"Whatever's the matter?" He asked, producing the flowers and putting them in the vase on the bedside table. "Number Seven couldn't tell me anything except that you fainted and were admitted."
"I stopped having periods. I just thought I'd reached the change, but it turns out I'm five months pregnant, and I've got high blood pressure. The doctor thinks it may even be pre-eclampsia, she has to do more tests."
"Oh," Milford said. He glanced at the floor. The bed was too high to be easily reached when kneeling, but on the other hand things deserved to be done properly, even in this irregular situation.
"Don't you even think it, Milford Meanswell," Bessie said sternly before he had a chance to move. "Do you think I decided to use the title 'Ms' on a whim?"
Milford stared at her for a second, stunned. "Bessie, I'd never make you do anything you didn't want to, including giving up your name. I just thought ..."
She took a deep breath and patted her hair. "It doesn't matter." She then glanced at the door, and added in a low, confidential voice, "You'll never guess what Dr Honey let slip about Sportacus, though."
Robbie ran a careful, deliberate feeling, finger over the bite on Sportacus's neck. "You're still marked from last time," he noted aloud.
Sportacus cast him a drowsy glance from where his head was pillowed on Robbie's thigh. "It was only a few days ago, of course I am." Something occurred to him though, and he sat up, rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes, and looked Robbie over. Aside from the plastered leg, all Robbie's injuries were fresh. Not so much as a greenish fading bruise.
"Did Dr Honey say when she expects the plaster to come off?"
"She wants to take another x-ray on Monday, maybe then, if not, Wednesday. Why?"
"If I broke my leg, I'd be in plaster six weeks, not six days."
"Six weeks?" Robbie yelped. The marriage bond, not nearly as clear or strong as his connection with his gens, but still there if he listened, was strongly flavoured with Robbie's surprise and discomfit.
"Most people heal at about that rate," Sportacus said. "I guess it makes sense for you to be faster, though ..."
"I knew Humans healed slowly, I thought it was because they have no magic."
"Some Elves can heal with magic, but we have to learn how, otherwise it's just our bodies."
"I considered not keeping it when the doctor said it was dangerous, but," she sighed, "it's too late already."
"You're the important one," Milford said fondly. "Don't go being noble. It's barely even baby-shaped yet."
"I mean I'm too far along for it to be legal. I thought it was only four months, but Dr Honey measured her on the ultrasound, and she's too big."
"She? It's a girl?" Milford felt his eyes go wide, as suddenly he realised the pregnancy was a potential person, not just a threat, to Bessie's health, to their respectability. He suddenly itched to discuss naming her.
"Yes, a girl. Now be a dear and go get me some water. You gave all mine to the flowers."
"That can't be right!" Trixie said aloud in the middle of project work time. Everybody looked up disapprovingly, then went back to their work, except Stephanie.
"What can't be?" she asked quietly, scooting her chair over.
"This book. It says Sprites are Unseelie." Sprites couldn't be bad faeries, Stephanie was one.
"No, that's right."
"But you're ..."
"You think I don't know that?" she hissed.
"Stephanie?" Trixie was very confused.
She took a very deep breath, and held it for a second. "I'll explain when you're older, Trixie," she said, plastering on a smile and her voice full of fake-sounding cheer, a very poor replacement for her normal optimism.
Sportacus's brother didn't seem to like Robbie. Since he looked and otherwise acted exactly the same way, and Robbie had thought Sportacus was temperamentally incapable of disliking people, this was really quite disturbing. The sister and aunt chattered through wedding plans around them, mentioning several dozen little marriage traditions they obviously took for granted and he'd never heard of before. He found himself wishing for the simplicity of a Gremlin "I'll keep you", or even the human "something borrowed, something blue" that he'd thought so ridiculous once.
There was a pause, and his aunt dug through her bag, pulled out a grey velvet jeweller's box and handed it to him. "Now, I understand you wouldn't have got Decius Sportacus a bell because your people don't, but it really is a disgrace for a married elf to not be belled, so I threw a little thing together in my airship this morning." The 'thrown together' 'little thing' was a small royal blue glass bell, delicately etched with flowers, and Cursive Faerie that read 'Decius Sportacus Rotten' running around the edge, tear-drop-shaped clapper on a fine silver chain lying beside it on the velvet liner. "I made sure the clapper is detachable, because I know Sportacuses run around too much to be jingling every time they move." She turned to Sportacus, the silver bell on her hat tinkling softly with the movement. "I am sorry it's only glass, but I was just expecting a quick trip, and only my glass-blowing things weren't in the house."
Sportacus smiled at her. "That's quite all right, Aunt Argenta Jewelia, it's the thought that counts." He paused, brow furrowing. "It might break, though."
Robbie muttered a quick anti-breaking spell over it. "That should have care of that. Now what do I do with it?"
His sister reached into her backpack, and pulled out a reel of blue thread and a needle. "You sew it on, of course. Ten, give him your hat."