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While at sea, Captain Beidou had thought this would be a simple stopover in Liyue Harbour. She’d play a game or two, catch a few partners, hop back on the Alcor and sail onward to Sumeru.
But plans exist to be upended, don’t they?
Her day starts off like any other: the anchor falls, the gangplank lands on the harbour’s docks, and Beidou gives Juza a thumbs up as she hops off the plank onto land, lifting her gaze to see the bustling commercial capital once again — and the resplendent Jade Chamber hanging above, faithfully watching over its people.
“We’ve got three days, holler if you need me!” Beidou yells at her Chief Mate, who nods. That’s all the time they’ll have to restock, fix up some of the damaged ships in the fleet, and have a good drink or two before they’re off again. While the Alcor’s crew busies themselves with ship repairs and maintenance, Beidou has people to meet and business to discuss.
The one-eyed brunette dusts her qipao and adjusts her fluffy fur coat, waving at sailors and merchants alike as she makes her way through a hectic Chihu Rock at midday. Labourers and businessmen queue for Liyue’s famous delicacies from grilled tiger fish to Wanmin Restaurant’s Jueyun Chilli chicken; children laugh and squeal as they play pirates from the docks all the way to Feiyun Slope.
The chatter slowly fades as Beidou climbs up stone steps to Yujing Terrace, past Millelith and Qixing employees, and the air grows cool and fresh when the plaustrite elevator ascends to the Jade Chamber. A wide grin spreads on her face at the sight of a scowling Baishi near the central pillar — that just means Ningguang is here. She waves aside Baiwen, hopping down the spiral steps to the Tianquan’s stuffy office.
“I hope you’ve cleared your schedule, Ningguang,” Beidou declares as she swings into the opulent room, brushing past an absolutely stunned businessman seated on the chair opposite the TIanquan’s desk and planting herself right on the table.
The pirate glowers at the Fontainean, raising an eyebrow. He shrinks under her glare. Judging from that fine suit and prim posture, he’s undoubtedly one of Ningguang’s many suitors — playthings, as she likes to call them. Still, Beidou has never felt the need to be nice to them.
Ningguang clears her throat, a faint blush creeping up on her cheeks. “As I mentioned, Gabriel,” she said politely, “Our time was up a good five minutes ago, and—”
“—she has a meeting with me now,” Beidou finishes. “Classified information, I’m afraid.”
Ningguang shoots her a look.
“O–of course.” Beidou swears his moustache is twitching. The Fontainean rises to his feet and bows. “Lady Ningguang, I’ll see you soon?”
The Tianquan stands. Beidou simply gawks at her, at how she looks the epitome of grace and power when she simply nods. “I will have someone contact you, Gabriel.”
He skitters away, encouraged by Beidou’s glare. When they are finally granted the privacy they deserve, the captain catches Ningguang by the chin, pulling her down for a tender kiss. Archons, she’s missed the taste of white tea and the scent of glaze lilies; here, with her tongue embracing Ningguang’s, she’s home.
“You didn’t need to be this rude with him,” Ningguang breathes when their lips part, wine-red eyes sparkling with fondness.
The captain shrugs, stroking the Tianquan’s chin. “I missed you, bǎobèi. He’s not getting another minute of your time.”
A light chuckle. “And what’s the mood today, Captain?”
“Chess. And dinner.” Beidou lets go of her chin.
Ningguang bends to open a drawer, pulling out a chessboard. Beidou hops off the desk, about to settle down at her usual spot on the guest table, when she realises Ningguang is no longer standing: she’s kneeling behind her desk, hairpin poking out from the corner.
A fistful of fear closes around her heart.
“Ning?” Beidou whispers, quickly peeking around the desk and clutching her lover’s shoulders, rousing her. “Ning, are you okay?”
Unguarded wine-red eyes look at her for a moment — she glimpses bone-deep fatigue — and then it vanishes. Ningguang nods. “Sorry,” she murmurs, “I was just… a little tired.”
Despite knowing Ningguang for years now, there are still times when Beidou isn’t sure whether Ningguang is lying or telling the truth, but this is not one of them. “We can take a nap, you know,” the captain says slowly, “We don’t have to play if you’re not feeling—”
“I’m fine,” Ningguang interrupts, laying a gloved hand on Beidou’s muscular arm. “It’s just been a long day, bǎobèi.”
The sincerity in those lovely eyes convinces her. Beidou nods, easily lifting the Tianquan to her feet, and takes the chessboard. She lays out the pieces and catches a smile dancing on Ningguang’s lips. The white-haired lady idly twirls her pipe over and over, skillfully balancing it across her clawed fingers.
It’s rare that Ningguang doesn’t smoke, but Beidou doesn’t push it. Instead, she gestures to the Tianquan with a grin. “Your move, my lady.”
A smirk tugs at the corners of her lips. “Thank you, my Captain.”
A piece for a piece; their match is evenly-paced and intense. Beidou’s brow furrows as she studies the war-torn chessboard, trying to predict Ningguang’s next move. Will she go for the abandoned supplies at the top left? Or seize the camp near the river? If she could lay out a nice ambush—
“Beidou.”
“Yeah?” Her head snaps up to meet Ningguang’s piercing gaze. It cuts through all her thoughts about chess strategy, shoving them aside, and she simply drinks in the ethereal beauty of the white-haired woman opposite her.
Some days, Beidou still can’t believe Ningguang chose her.
And now, the woman she loves is staring at her so intensely it makes her shiver. A cloud of indecipherable emotions swirl about in those crimson depths. “What is it, bǎobèi?” Beidou presses, her heart starting to pound rapidly against the confinements of her ribs.
Why are you afraid?
“Beidou… I’m pregnant.”
At first, the words do not register in her head. Beidou stares, slack-jawed, at the beautiful lady opposite her, whose eyes are starting to water. The train that is her thoughts simply stops at its imaginary station, refusing to let the words board. Her hand stays frozen on the chessboard. She blinks.
The three words are ushered onto the train and brought straight to the conductor’s seat. She stares at them, the cogs in her brain slowly, finally creaking into motion.
Ningguang… is…
She swallows thickly. Her spit proceeds to go down the wrong pipe. Beidou immediately hacks and chokes on air and shock, arms flailing about. Ningguang rises as she stifles a laugh, reaching over to pat her back gently while she attempts to regain some semblance of speech.
The captain grabs her hands, turning wildly to face her. “Ning, bǎobèi,” she gasps, wiping spit off her mouth with the back of her gloves. “You” — she gestures at Ningguang’s still-flat belly — “Our little— is this from—”
Ningguang hurriedly claps a gloved hand over her mouth, muffling her babbles. “No one needs to know that!” she hisses, cheeks rapidly reddening.
Beidou coughs out a laugh, wrapping her arms around Ningguang and resting her head on her belly. “Archons,” she breathes, wondering when she’ll hear a soft heartbeat or a gurgle or feel a kick on her cheek.
Exhilaration, pure love, ecstasy — fear — they all swirl around in her heart like a violent whirlpool, and she can’t discern where each emotion ends and begins. Her thoughts are riding a train now rapidly hurtling down a track into Archons-knows-where, so quickly she can barely pluck them out and form them into coherent words.
All she can do is sob into Ningguang’s belly as her grip on her lover tightens.
“B–Beidou?” Ningguang’s voice is a soft whisper. “Are you… alright?”
“Y–yeah,” Beidou chokes out, “I–I’m just—” So overwhelmed. “Ning, have I told you how much I… how much I love you, my star?”
Slender fingers gently run through her brown tresses, smoothening her wind-blown tangles. “You’ve told me plenty.” A pause. “I remember every one.”
“Well” — Beidou presses a kiss to her belly — “I’m going to say it again anyway.” The captain rises to her feet, muscular arms holding her slender body tightly to hers. “I love you so much, my precious star, and I love our little one too. I’m gonna have to take good care of you both now.”
Which means—
“Oh shit.”
Ningguang raises an eyebrow.
Beidou clutches her lover’s shoulders, ruby eye wide. “Wait for me here, Ning, okay? Don’t move. I’m gonna have to run down quick, get things ready—”
“What are you—”
“Gotta get things ready for you, cancel my voyages,” the captain mutters as she begins pacing. What’s the fastest way down? Probably gliding. Mora-Grubber’s going to kill her, but maybe if she tells her crew Ningguang is carrying her child, they’ll be understanding? “I’m staying for the next twelve months—”
“A year–?!” Ningguang opens her mouth, but the captain dashes to the window with a hearty wave, flinging it open and throwing herself out with a final shout:
“I’ll be back in a bit, bǎobèi — OUCH!” Thud.
“Beidou?!”
“I’m good, I’m good” — Beidou scrambles to her feet on the Jade Chamber’s corridors, swinging off the railing and into the sky. “See you soon!”
The next morning, Beidou thanks her lucky stars she’d decided to make a brief stopover at Liyue Harbour. She’d never forgive herself if her beloved had to deal with all this alone.
Ningguang startles her awake at an ungodly hour, running from the bed to the bathroom. Beidou hurriedly follows; she swears she’s never seen the woman run until now. Even before she reaches the bathroom she can hear the violent retching from within. Quietly, Beidou takes a bottle of mint tea from her bag before joining her precious star.
Ningguang is worshipping the great porcelain throne miserably, tears joining vomit in its watery contents. It’s a sight that grabs Beidou by the heart and gives it a good, hard twist. The captain kneels next to her, gently carding her fingers through Ningguang’s dishevelled white tresses, holding the bottle to her lips. “Drink, bǎobèi,” she coos softly, pressing soft kisses to her tear-stained cheeks. “You’ll feel better with this.”
Mint tea had helped Beidou get over seasickness; it should work for morning sickness too, right?
Ningguang silently sips the tea. Beidou pulls her away from the toilet and into her, cloaking her frustrated lover in warmth. She waits patiently until her lady stops drinking. “Does it help?”
A small, grumpy nod. Relief washes over the pirate. She slips an arm under Ningguang’s legs, easily carrying her as she walks back to bed. “It’s still early,” she explains. “You can get more rest while I get things ready, okay?”
Ningguang doesn’t say anything until Beidou has tucked her comfortably back in bed. The pleasure of a soft bed and warm blankets seems to melt away her frustration; she finally gives Beidou a tired smile. “I’m sorry… bǎobèi.”
Don’t be. The brunette pauses to kiss her forehead, tenderly brushing her white hair out of her eyes. That bone-deep fatigue is back, shining through her dulled wine-red gaze. “Bǎobèi, you’re carrying our child,” Beidou whispers. “That’s the most difficult thing anyone can do. Just close your eyes and rest, okay? I’ll take care of everything.”
Her brows furrow. “I wouldn’t leave my work to you. You’d abolish taxes in a day.”
“Ningguang!” Beidou groans.
The Tianquan lets out a soft laugh, which lifts the pirate’s heart. She lingers a while longer, stroking Ningguang’s hair, until she’s certain that her lady has fallen asleep.
Even in sleep, she looks tired; in just a few days since their chess game, the exhaustion of bearing a child has become apparent in her eyes and face. She could barely lift herself from the toilet bowl earlier. Ningguang has never been strong in constitution — Beidou has lost track of the number of times she’s had to force the Tianquan to exercise — and this worry gnaws away at her.
She can’t sit here and do nothing. She’ll do everything in her power to make sure her lover is as comfortable and healthy as she can be. Beidou pulls out a folded paper from her pocket; hastily scribbled on it is a list of errands she needs to run before Ningguang wraps up her work today. Beidou rolls her shoulders, heading to the door.
First stop: Bubu Pharmacy.
Ningguang doesn’t recall a simple day’s work ever taking such a toll on her.
By the time dusk falls, she can barely focus on Yelan’s report. She reads the same line three times before deciding she can’t do this any longer. The Tianquan slowly gets to her feet, pressing her hands on her desk when the room suddenly spins. All she can see is a blur of gold and a splash of red and the desk is suddenly parallel to her vision and—
A strong arm catches her head. “Ning!”
Ningguang blinks a few times, the room spinning back into clarity. Gradually the colours coalesce into the shape of Beidou, her ruby eye wide with concern.
Somehow, Ningguang finds her voice. “B–Beidou…”
“My star, bǎobèi, are you alright?” the brunette whispers, squeezing her clammy hands gently. “Archons, you’re cold…” She continues muttering, digging around in her bag. “Baizhu said something about that… not this… uh…”
The sight of her Captain Beidou — Slayer of Haishan, Uncrowned King of Dragons — mumbling under her breath and flinging out the wildest assortment of bottles and herbs from her bag, is far too amusing. The laughter bubbles up from deep within her chest; try as she might, Ningguang can’t stop it from slipping out of her in a soft giggle.
That makes Beidou pause, the worry in her ruby eye melting away at the sound.
“I’m… alright,” Ningguang manages in between giggles. “Whatever it is… it passed.”
“Just be careful when you’re getting up or walking around, okay?” Beidou sighs fondly, tossing all her ingredients back into her bag and picking Ningguang up. “You’ll probably feel dizzy a lot, since your constitution isn’t strong,” she continues, making her way to their bedroom. “And you’ll need to take lots of boosting drinks…”
Ningguang could listen to Beidou’s gruff voice droning on and on all day. She closes her eyes and tunes out the words, stuffing her face in the captain’s shoulder and taking a deep breath of her musky scent. It fills her nose; her shoulders instinctively relax—
“Are you listening, Ning?”
“Mmm,” she mumbles into her shoulder.
“Clearly not,” the captain grumbles, inelegantly kicking her bedroom door open.
Ningguang huffs in disdain. “You’re paying for any damages, bǎobèi.”
“Come on! Your door’s not made of bamboo, it’ll be fine.” Beidou sits her on a chair, carefully extracting a bowl from her bag. “Here! Got you something easy for dinner.” She proudly opens the cover, and the heavenly scent of cabbage soup greets Ningguang’s nose.
The Tianquan hums, promptly digging in. It amazes her how often Beidou seems to know exactly what she needs before she even asks. Her appetite just hasn’t been good ever since she learned that she was pregnant, and cabbage soup is one of the few meals she can still keep down.
She takes a few more sips before she notices Beidou seated opposite her, not touching her food and simply staring.
Ningguang raises an eyebrow.
“Just making sure you eat,” the brunette replies, quickly averting her gaze.
Ningguang lets out a low chuckle, calmly finishing the rest of the soup. She leans back with a contented sigh, summoning her pipe—
And Beidou makes an inhuman leap across the length of the guest table to snatch it right out of her hands.
The Tianquan shoots her a death glare. “Beidou!”
“You’re not smoking!” the captain protests, pocketing the pipe. “You’re carrying our child!”
The Tianquan folds her arms haughtily. “Are you denying me my means of relaxation?”
“It’s not good for the baby, Ning,” Beidou says slowly. “Stop for a few months, okay? For our dear’s sake.”
Under normal circumstances, Tianquan Ningguang would relent upon acknowledging the logic of her lover’s words. Now, however, she is only aware of the hot tears welling up in her eyes and the completely illogical urge to start screaming marital abuse.
She bites her lip. Blinks. Hot tears start sliding down her cheeks — Archons help me — and as Beidou’s jaw slowly drops, Ningguang dissolves into a blubbering, sobbing mess. “If I c–can’t smoke, h–how am I supposed to…” She hiccups, bursting into tears.
“B–bǎobèi,” Beidou splutters, hurrying to her side, ruby eye wide in shock. “My love, my heart” — she cradles Ningguang’s head, guiding her to rest on her chest — “it’s okay. Shhh.” The brunette stays still, cooing softly and stroking her hair while she weeps, shoulders shaking with each sob.
When Ningguang finally regains control of her senses, her eyes are swollen and puffy, her nose a bright red. Beidou wipes away the last of her tears with a thumb. “How are you feeling, Ning?”
“I… don’t know why I… did that,” Ningguang mutters, flushing a deep red. The embarrassment is killing her, even though Beidou doesn’t seem bothered at all.
“Don’t worry about it,” the captain murmurs, stroking her hands gently. “It’s okay, bǎobèi. You’re okay.”
Ningguang only gives her a miserable nod. She doesn’t feel like herself — she’s exhausted, frazzled, and distressed, like she is a kite being battered by strong winds in a storm. The self-control she takes pride in has completely vanished over the last few days; she feels the urge to throw up every few hours but only dry heaves in the bathroom; she’s constantly on the verge of tears; and most of all, she isn’t sure if she is even capable of carrying their child to term.
Her eyes water again.
“Bǎobèi,” Beidou whispers, her strong arms slipping around her back and under her legs, lifting her from the chair. “It’s gonna be tough.” The captain slides into bed, wrapping her arms around the white-haired woman tenderly. “But you’re not alone, okay?”
Ningguang stares into that ruby eye, so soft with love and pride. “The baby you carry, it’s not yours, or mine… it’s our child. I’m with you till the end,” Beidou breathes, kissing away the tears threatening to fall from her eyes. “Come what may.”
“And if I… if I lose…” The words fall from her lips, a quiet admission of the fear that consumes her waking moments.
“You won’t.” Beidou smiles, caressing her cheek. “My precious star, Tianquan of Liyue, whose very words can move mountains… you’ll be fine.” She finishes with a kiss, tenderly pressed to her forehead.
And here, cloaked in her lover’s musky warmth, Ningguang finds she can believe.
Weeks turn into months, and Ningguang can no longer hide her pregnancy from prying eyes. Rumours fly as the Jade Chamber closes its doors to guests and visitors alike, save for Captain Beidou of the Crux Fleet.
She’s fallen into a rhythm of sorts now, having grasped Ningguang’s unpredictability in pregnancy. Ningguang cries a lot; throws up a lot; has been generally a miserable prick for the last few months, but Beidou doesn’t mind.
The day Ningguang dropped the news on Beidou’s head, the captain had gone straight to Baizhu for a crash course on childbearing. She was prepared for every possibility, every tantrum, every craving — even that one morning when Ningguang abruptly declared she wanted to eat Qingxin.
“Qingxin?” Beidou had echoed. “What are you, a qilin?”
She was greeted with rapidly tearing wine-red eyes that immediately sent Beidou huffing up Mount Tianheng for a bunch of flowers. Ningguang had munched through a few before casually pondering whether they’d be better in soup — Beidou had wasted no time getting that sorted.
Ningguang now loves Qingxin soup. Mountain climbing is also a new skill in Beidou’s arsenal.
This week, however, Ningguang’s cravings are far easier to settle. It’s Mora Meat, much to the captain’s surprise. And so Beidou meanders through the bustling crowds of Liyue Harbour once again, doing her best not to listen to the hushed whispers of the common people as she passes.
She’s been hearing them for a while now, ever since she swung by Ying’er’s to collect Ningguang’s dresses, altered to accommodate her growing belly. Some are laughable, like that of the Tianquan finally bedding a man. Others spark a burning fury in her, for these theories are so wild and insulting Beidou refuses to think about them at all.
But there is one, in particular, that worms its way into Beidou’s heart, curling up there and chewing away at her will.
“Is the captain really the best example for a child?”
Beidou resolutely ignores the whispers as she makes her way to the Alcor for a quick check on her crew.
“She leaves Liyue Harbour so often, for so long. The kid’s going to know only Lady Ningguang.”
Her pace quickens. She walks right past the main docks and the Alcor, seeking shelter at one of the harbour’s more secluded piers.
“... what a poor thing. To be the child of the Tianquan and a pirate.”
Beidou sits at the edge of the furthest pier, a bag of herbs and food sitting by her side. She lets her legs dangle over the calm sea, listening to the waves gently lapping against the wood. There is no ship docked at this pier, and the scenery before her is a picturesque view of the ocean, stretching far into the horizon, the jagged peaks of Guyun Stone Forest seemingly holding up the sky.
The captain lets out a sigh. A voice inside her whispers that she should leave. She’s tried so hard to be a good lover for Ningguang, to care for her, to prepare for their child’s birth into this beautiful world.
And yet the fear lingers: fear that she simply won’t belong. That there’s no place for her here, not for Beidou, the notorious pirate captain who controls death, who chases thrill and adventure above all else. The child that Ningguang carries — their child — would be protected from her curse if she simply sails away and never returns.
But that would break the Tianquan’s heart. Perhaps do more.
She’s seen grief dancing in her beloved’s eyes once, when Ningguang willingly gave up the Jade Chamber. She’s seen how a dead soul can keep going day in and day out, driven only by duty to her nation. Ningguang would not be able to raise the child if Beidou didn’t stay.
Ningguang would wither away if Beidou left. And so would she.
“Fearless and brave. That’s who you are to me,” Ningguang had once said.
Beidou feels nothing like that now. She only feels timid and small, like a bottle tossed about in the waves, waiting for destiny to deliver her end.
“Beidou?”
The captain turns at the sound of Kazuha’s voice. “Hey, kid.” She plasters a grin on her face.
The young samurai isn’t convinced. “We saw you walk past the Alcor today. Did something happen?”
“No — nothing did. Ningguang is fine. And I should really get back to her soon.” Still, Beidou doesn’t move.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Kazuha asks, sitting next to her. She looks at the young man fondly, and wonders — if their child turns out to be a boy, will he grow up to be like Kazuha: gentle and graceful like Ningguang; adventurous and determined like Beidou?
Will she be there to see it?
“Yeah,” Beidou finally says, returning her gaze to the sea. She called the ocean home once. Now her home has piercing wine-red eyes and the most beautiful smile she’s ever seen. “It’s gonna be funny hearing this from me, but… I don’t think I’m ready to be a… mom, you know?” she mutters, shaking her head. “This isn’t like… some kid I pick up like how we got you on board, Kazuha. It’s… Ningguang’s gonna give birth to a child we made. And I’m gonna have to be there, from the start.” She looks down. “Me, a pirate. Raising a child. With Ningguang.”
Liyue’s Tianquan. The embodiment of law and order.
“I’m not a good person,” Beidou confesses, her shoulders sagging. “There’s not much I can teach a child. I’m—”
“I’d have to stop you there, Beidou,” Kazuha interrupts smoothly, looking at her. “Because you’re wrong.”
“Hah?” Beidou frowns.
“You know my parents died when I was young,” Kazuha murmurs. “I was left with my servants for a long time, until I made my choice. But Beidou, you” — he pauses, closing his eyes — “you are my benefactor. You guided me, taught me to open my eyes. Who I am today… you shaped that, Beidou. You have a heart of gold. You taught me kindness isn’t a weakness — rather, it’s the greatest strength one can have.”
Kazuha smiles, meeting her bewildered stare. “You’re more than ready to raise a child with Lady Ningguang.” His gaze softens. “I do think you both deserve this joy, Beidou.”
We do.
That truth sinks into her heart, eradicating her doubt like a ray of light piercing the darkness. Beidou’s lips curve into a grin. “You know, kid,” she begins, “When you don’t spout poetry, you make a whole lot of sense.”
The samurai chuckles, watching the captain get to her feet and gather her items. “The Alcor’s fine, by the way. I’ll tell them you asked.”
Beidou grins. “Thanks, kid,” she says, and makes her way back to the Jade Chamber with a spring in her step.
The Jade Chamber, however, is the complete opposite of Beidou’s calm soul. The brunette walks in to the sound of something shattering, and a completely frazzled Baiwen hurrying up the stairs. The secretary’s eyes widen in sheer relief at the sight of a stunned Beidou standing at the entrance.
“Oh thank Rex Lapis,” Baiwen almost weeps, grabbing Beidou’s arm. “Y–you have to go to Lady Ningguang—”
Her blood runs cold.
“What? What’s going on?” Beidou demands as Baiwen tugs at her. “Is she okay?” Her voice rises. “What happened to Ning?!”
“Lady Ningguang is f–fine!” Baishi squeaks from the basement, on the verge of tears. “W–we just can’t handle her, so by Morax’s wrinkled ass, get in there!”
Morax’s… what?
Beidou is shoved into the bedroom by the two secretaries and the door slams shut behind her. The captain throws the shut door a scowl before looking right into the face of absolute chaos.
Geo shards lie scattered all over the floor of Ningguang’s bedroom, some particularly sharp ones embedded in the Jade Chamber’s wooden walls. And the woman in question is a round sobbing mess on the bed.
Beidou gulps. She’s been gone for too long.
With all the caution of a human slowly approaching a vicious Rishboland Tiger, Beidou gingerly draws closer to the white-haired woman. “Ning, bǎobèi,” she coos softly, beads of cold sweat starting to build on her forehead, “I’m so sorry—”
“You” — furious, puffy wine-red eyes land on Beidou like a ballista finding its target — “you left me!”
And she bursts into a fresh wave of tears. Beidou clambers onto the bed, gently wrapping her arms around the distraught woman while she hiccups and throws accusations like she probably threw Geo shards at her secretaries.
“You,” Ningguang sobs, “Stop going away and l–leaving me alone — you even banned me from smoking—”
“Shhh.” Beidou cradles her, tenderly pressing her lips to her forehead. “I won’t leave you, bǎobèi, I’m here.” She repeats this softly under her breath, calloused fingers carding through Ningguang’s hair while she sobs into her chest.
She waits, patiently, until her precious star regains her senses. Ningguang sniffles, her cheeks reddening. “I–I’m sorry,” she mumbles into her shoulder.
“Don’t apologise, bǎobèi,” Beidou replies gently, pulling away to look her in the eyes. “I was gone for too long. I promise I’ll be here, okay?”
The heavily pregnant woman nods. Beidou carefully lays her back on the bed, propping her up with cushions. Ningguang is close to full term, Baizhu had said. And while they were both exhilarated, the weight of the child in her belly was taking a toll on Ningguang’s body.
In recent weeks, Ningguang had needed help to make the short walk from her bed to the bathroom; she was frequently in pain — if it wasn’t a terrible backache, it was soreness, or a few moments of desperate gasping for air.
And every time the discomfort showed on her face, Beidou felt her heart ache. Even now, she wishes she can share this pain with her star through some magical means — but all she can do is to make Ningguang as comfortable and as happy as possible.
So Beidou smiles tenderly at her. “Let’s get you cleaned up and comfy, alright?”
Ningguang nods again, her hands idly resting on her bulging baby bump while Beidou straightens the sheets and snuggles comfortably with her. A pleasant silence falls between them.
Then, Ningguang speaks: “You were gone… for a long while.”
Guilt twists around her gut. “Was I?”
“Mmm.” The Tianquan waits.
Beidou swallows thickly, feeling the confession being drawn out of her through Ningguang’s piercing, impassive stare. “I… was afraid,” she mumbles, her arms tightening around the slender lady. “Ning, I don’t know if I can… take care of you, of our child. And if something happens…” She shakes her head, pressing her face into her lover’s head, inhaling the comforting scent of glaze lilies. “I bring misfortune, bǎobèi.”
“And I don’t believe in misfortune, Beidou,” Ningguang counters easily. She straightens — as much as she can with a prominent baby bump, at least — and turns to look at the brunette. “You were never a misfortune to me. I’ve worked hard for all of this.” She waves a hand at the Jade Chamber. “But you… I didn’t earn you.”
Beidou stares as those piercing eyes soften in a rare moment of weakness.
“And yet,” Ningguang continues, “You have become my most precious heart. You are my only fortune, bǎobèi. A gift sent from the stars.”
Beidou gawks at her. “Ning…”
“Come.” Slender fingers rest on her head, guiding her down until her ear is pressed to Ningguang’s belly. Beidou closes her eyes, her hands instinctively moving to rest near her head, feeling the little kicks and rolls that their unborn child makes deep in the womb.
The tiny movements bring a grin to the captain’s face. “Wow. Our kid sure is active, eh?”
“Like you,” Ningguang sighs. “Can’t sit still for a mere minute.”
Beidou barks out a laugh. Lying here, acutely aware of both her lover’s calm breaths and the little actions of their lively child, all she feels is a surge of warmth in her. Archons, she will die to defend Ningguang and their unborn child. She will make it back to them after every voyage, even if she has to crawl on all fours to reach her heart.
The brunette sits up, pulling her precious star into a tight hug. “Thank you, Ning,” Beidou breathes in her ear. “For bearing our greatest treasure.”
And Ningguang clings to Beidou tightly in response, her head resting comfortably on Beidou’s shoulder.
It won’t be long now.
Prior to the moment the contractions began, Beidou had been certain she was well-prepared for the final stretch of Ningguang’s pregnancy.
What a foolish thought.
She now kneels helplessly by her lover’s bed, cursing with all the flourish of a sailor at the inhumanly vice-like grip that Ningguang has her poor hand locked in. With each desperate push, her fingers tighten even more on Beidou’s hand, and the captain is swearing as loudly as Ningguang is screaming.
By Morax’s soggy balls, does birthing a child grant her superhuman strength?!
Still, she tries her best, her heart twisting in frustration when she sees the beads of cold sweat on Ningguang’s forehead and her face all scrunched up in pain. “Ning, bǎobèi,” Beidou whispers, biting back another curse when her hand is further crushed (she’s fairly certain she has insulted every part of Morax’s body at this point). “You’re doing good, my heart.”
“Good…?!” Ningguang groans, her eyes opening for a moment. “Archons, Beidou — just…. just pull the damn kid out of me!”
“I wouldn’t advise that, uh, Lady Ningguang,” Baizhu mutters from the foot of the bed.
“Shut up,” both women spit at him. He mutely returns his attention to coaxing out the baby from between Ningguang’s legs.
Beidou prays to every damn Archon she hasn’t insulted over the last three hours (she’s not sure if there are any left) to save Ningguang and her hand. The captain wills herself to focus on her beloved, lifting her free hand to stroke her hair as Ningguang desperately pushes again with a weak groan. “My star,” she murmurs, “bǎobèi, you’re doing a wonderful job.”
It frustrates her to no end that there’s nothing she can do beyond this. Beidou glances at Baizhu, who gives her a reassuring nod — the baby is coming out well — and she returns her attention to Ningguang. “We’re almost there, my sweet. Just a little more—”
A pained cry tears itself from the Tianquan’s throat as she abruptly releases Beidou’s hand, and the brunette hears the sharp wail of a baby. She turns: Baizhu smiles, swaddling the newborn in silk. “It’s a girl,” he says with a smile.
Shakily, the captain reaches out to cradle the breathing infant in her hands. She is… so tiny; she fits snugly in both of Beidou’s hands. She stares at the life she now cradles; a miracle she’d never imagined she would be holding.
A miracle created by her star.
Beidou turns to Ningguang, whose eyes are shut in exhaustion. Her breaths come in ragged pants, her body well and truly spent from hours of labour. Gently, Beidou lays the sleeping baby on her chest.
Ningguang’s eyelids flutter open.
“Bǎobèi,” Beidou murmurs, placing her slender hands on the sleeping child.
Ningguang pauses, her fingers tenderly stroking the baby’s head. “Beidou…”
“You did so beautifully, my star.” The pirate bends, lips brushing across Ningguang’s forehead. “Rest now, bǎobèi.”
I’ll take care of everything else.
In a blink of an eye, ten months pass.
Even then, Beidou continues to be amazed whenever she looks at their little Qiaofeng, at the giggling baby’s wine-red eyes — just as piercing as her mother’s — and the brown mop of hair that clearly comes from her other mother.
And she still remains dazzled by the woman she loves, tenderly embracing every part of her when night falls and Qiaofeng dozes in her little cot next to their bed. Ningguang is no less beautiful than she was when they first met, even with the stretch marks across her belly and the sagging skin around her abdomen. To Beidou, they are simply the everlasting testament of what Ningguang has created with her.
A life, free from the duties that bind them both.
Today Beidou watches Kazuha play with an ever-curious Qiaofeng. The young man has brought an assortment of toys from the Crux Fleet for the inquisitive child to grab: she squeezes a ball with her fat fingers; clumsily stacks cups; and constantly smacks Kazuha with her flailing arms. He laughs, more carefree than Beidou has ever seen him be, and it brings a small smile to her lips.
Is this what it’s like? To be simply… content? She would give up much for these moments to last just a little longer.
“Kazuha is good with children,” Ningguang’s mellifluous voice drifts into her ear.
Beidou turns, once again bedazzled by her Tianquan settling next to her. “Break time?” she asks.
“Mmm.”
The captain stretches, draping an arm around Ningguang. “Qiaofeng loves water, eh? Like me.”
The Tianquan huffs, folding her arms. “She enjoys bathtime, yes, but you will not take her on a voyage until she’s old enough to.”
Beidou barks out a laugh. “Of course not. You’re going to teach her all your smarts first. And then I’ll take her to see the world.” She breaks into a grin. “And she’ll be smarter, stronger, than either of us.”
And she will be free to choose her own path.
Ningguang smiles. It’s a tender smile, one that Beidou has seen more and more of ever since Qiaofeng came into their lives. A gift from the stars, a celebration of their love.
“Kazuha!” Beidou calls. Kazuha picks up Qiaofeng, heading over to them in slight confusion.
Beidou pulls Ningguang close all of a sudden, spinning Kazuha so that his back faces her. “What—”
She holds up a kamera. “Smile!”
The flash immortalises them all: a grinning Beidou, a bewildered Kazuha, an excited Qiaofeng and a shocked Ningguang.
It’s a picture that now hangs on the Jade Chamber’s walls — and it will be the first of many more to come.
—FIN.