The Arcana - Muriel Fanfics!

XX - Judgement

*yeeee this one's set a little bit after the wedding. I've been meaning to write a soft one where they're literally doing nothing. Like, relaxing and just being in each other's company, so hopefully y'all will enjoy it. Thank you, love you all! <3<3<3 :))

Idly, I trace my fingers along Muriel's shoulder scar. His head against my stomach and arms around my waist, Muriel's breathing almost lulls me to sleep, too. 

Thunder rumbles outside, and the rain's been alternating between drizzle and downpour since we woke up. Although, we haven't really gotten up at all. My fingers skirl away from his scar and into his hair, stroking out the tousled bits. Slowly, Muriel sighs in content, his eyes opening blearily. I offer him a sleepy smile.

"...Has the rain stopped?" Muriel mumbles. His lips brush my stomach with a whisper-soft kiss, before he props himself up on an elbow. As if to answer his question, the subdued pattering begins to pummel the roof in sheets, and the thunder rolls in response. "I don't think so," I say with a chuckle.  Muriel snorts, carefully manoeuvring himself over me and settling with his head against my shoulder. "...Good."

I nuzzle up against him, our legs tangled together in the furs. I take his hand, holding up and out in front of me. Muriel doesn't object as I push his fingers apart and trace his palm lines, secretly admiring the ring on his finger. 

"...When do you think...I mean, when w-will the b-baby...start kicking?" Muriel asks, watching my fingers follow his love line. I smile to myself, heart fluttering. "Ah, is that why you wanted to sleep on my stomach?" I say jokingly. Muriel's fingers tense in my hand, and he turns bright pink. "W-what? N-no, I didn't...I only..." he trails off, tangibly embarrassed. 

"...Yes," he admits quietly as I trace his life line. I stifle a giggle, before drawing his hand down to rest on the swell of my stomach. Since the wedding, I must've thrown out over a dozen trousers and shirts that don't fit me anymore. Pretty soon, I'm sure I'll have to resort to Muriel's cloaks and clothes. "No, not yet. But give it a few weeks, maybe less...I'm sure we'll be tired of all his kicking," I say, only half-heartedly. Muriel glances at me, eyebrows quirked. "...His? How do you...how do you know? That it's...that it's a boy, I mean." 

I shrug, resuming stroking Muriel's hair. "I don't, not really. But I think...I think I'd really want a boy." Muriel makes a noise, something halfway between a huff and a chuckle. Surprised, I shoot him a curious look. He flushes, burying his face into the crook of my neck. "Why, which would you prefer?" 

Muriel mumbles into my shoulder, and between the raging storm and complete muffling of his voice, I have no idea what he said. "What?"

Emerging sheepishly, his blush intensifies. "...I...I'd be happy with either, but...but I wouldn't m-mind...maybe...a little girl. Maybe." My heart implodes with the sheer adorableness of his words. Even as he says it, his hand moves from my stomach, wrapping around me protectively. I turn to snuggle in further, until our faces are only inches apart. Running a hand along the scar on his cheek. Touching the one above his eye. Tracing his jawline. Muriel watches me with interest. 

"...What are you doing," he asks quietly, making no move to pull my hand away.

I trace the curve of his ear. "Just wondering," I say simply. The question shines in Muriel's green eyes. A tired gaze, for as long as I've known him. "Wondering if they'll look like me or you. Maybe both," I say, dropping my hand. A small, soft smile touches Muriel's lips. 

He reaches out hesitantly, before gently touching the curve of my brow. The line of my cheekbone. Tracing my lips. "...You. You're...much prettier than me." I laugh, and Muriel traces my dimples. 

The rain never lets up, and the thunder only gets louder. We stay like that for what seems like hours in comfortable silence. I could have memorised every part of his face, by now. Every scratch or mark, every curve and line. And from the affection in his eyes and the gentleness of his touch, I know he's doing the same.

"Oh, I know," I say, breaking the silence. "Maybe we'll just have to have two. A little boy for me, and a little girl for you." Muriel splutters, and we're so close I can feel the heat from his cheeks.