Where The Spirit Meets The Bone

Forty-eight: Aleksander Morozova

Forty-eight:

Aleksander Morozova

There was a ticking.

No, there was a tapping.

His eyes opened, and his gaze flickered into and out of focus. Finally, he saw his mothers face. "B-b-baghra," he coughed, "what are you doing here?"

"The servants found you out in the field," said Baghra, "you, and Alina. There were enemy soldiers that were attacking. You and Alina were both shot."

He sat up, gasping, trying to ignore the intense pain that shot through his shoulder. "Alina---is she---"

"She's alive. There's something else that you should know."

"Please don't tell me she's hurt," said Aleksander, "please don't tell me something bad has happened to her."

Baghra shook her head. "You were both shot in the shoulder. You'll both have scars. But something wonderful has happened."

Aleksander furrowed his brows together. "We were attacked, Mother. What could be wonderful about that?"

"The Doctor discovered Alina's pregnant."

He stared at his mother, certain that he had heard wrong. "Pregnant? Are you sure?"

Baghra nodded. "You're going to be a father, Aleksander."

Aleksander stood up, but found himself pushed back down by his mother. "Baghra, I don't find this funny. Let me up. I want to see Alina."

"Alina is resting," said Baghra, "you two were attacked by enemy forces on your own property. We don't even know if they are still out there. She's pregnant, and she needs to rest. She doesn't need you hovering, or you hurt because you've gotten up too soon. You're going to stay in this bed until I say so or I will whack you with my cane to make you stay put. Don't even try to challenge me on it, boy. Rest. You can grumble and rule the world later, but not on my watch."

He sighed. "I'm a General, I'm a Lord."

"I don't care," said Baghra, "you're still my son, I'm still your mother. My grandchild is going to need a father. So, you are going to need rest."

He glanced over at her, a devious smirk on his face. "You're going to be a grandmother."

Baghra scowled at him. "What of it?"

"Just.... a grandmother," he said, "are you prepared for that?"

"I'm more prepared than you are to be a father," said Baghra, "I've already aged into my personality. You, however, still believe that takeout is a proper meal. If you want to keep your wife and make her happy, you should have that delinquent chef teach you how to cook a decent meal."

"That's why I have a chef," Aleksander said, "why I don't need to be taught how to cook."

Baghra smiled. "There's my boy. Now, are you sure you are going to be able to handle this? There will be a baby here, Aleksander. Your wife is going to need all of the help that she can get. She's young. She's never done this before."

"I don't exactly have experience in the matter myself," he reminded her.

"No," said Baghra, "but you are older. More experienced in the ways of the world. Alina is still a girl practically."

"She's eighteen."

"I know," said Baghra, "she's going to need you there. Emotionally. Physically. Mentally. It can't be like it was before, with you burying yourself in your work or trying to control her. You need to be a team. You won't be able to hide at The Little Palace whenever you have something that you don't want to do."

Aleksander frowned. "What do you mean, before mother? Alina and I have never been married before. You know that don't you?"

Baghra coughed. "I misspoke. I simply meant that you are going to have to be there for your wife. You cannot hide behind your work."

"I don't want to hide behind my work," said Aleksander, "mother...when those men attacked us today...something strange happened."

"Oh? Besides the part where they shot you?"

"Yes," he said, "the old instincts didn't kick in. You remember how I was, when I was enlisted? Every sound would make me jump. Before Alina, I would have killed those men instantly. I would have slit their throats and watched them bleed for attacking my wife. Don't get me wrong. I think I still want to, because they hurt someone I love, and they tried to hurt me too. But I didn't only think about my bloodlust."

"What did you think about?" Baghra said.

"Her," Aleksander said, "I thought about her, keeping her safe, and there was one other thought that kept me from taking the knives I had hidden on my person and finishing the job."

"You know what that means, don't you son?"

He shook his head. "I assume it means that I've gone soft. That marriage has weakened me."

"No," said Baghra, "marriage has made you strong. Because you have someone you care about besides yourself. Someone who will wait at home for you. Welcome you when you come back. Who will want you here, always. Wanting to hold onto that isn't weakness, Aleksander. In fact, its strength. Because caring makes you better. You care for Alina, Aleksander, and there is no weakness in that. Caring is a wonderful, beautiful thing."

"I think I more than care for her mother," he said.

Baghra tilted her head to the side. "Oh?"

"I love her mother," he told her, "Alina is my wife, the mother of my child, my whole world.... she is everything I've ever wanted. I know ours didn't start out as a love story, but it is one. For me, there is only her."

"You need to tell her," said Baghra, "tell her that she is loved. And you need to continue on telling her."

 "I will," he said, "as soon as she wakes, I will tell her I love her...." he drifted out of consciousness again, with his mother watching over him, a smile on her face. This time, her son was going to do it. This time, her son was going to learn to love the way that he had never learned to love in her lifetime.