The Most Beautiful Eyes Ch. 19

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Vidar's legal heir.
3.5k words
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Part 19 of the 24 part series

Updated 06/09/2023
Created 10/20/2018
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Muriel was able to keep up her good cheer until her menstruation cycle came. That meant they had to seek out help from their "assistant" again. She wasn't looking forward to it. In fact, her mood soured rather quickly on the day it was supposed to happen. At dinner, she started drinking wine, and more wine, and even more. She couldn't say why, exactly, but she wanted more.

Vidar didn't seem to think he could stop her. No matter how he touched her, no matter what he said, Muriel couldn't think of anything peaceful. So, he seemed to give up and he starting drinking even more than she was.

Princess Arya shot both of them the nastiest looks. Her brow seemed weathered. Her lips formed a tight red circle. At one point, she said to Muriel and Vidar, "You're married adults, and I can't stop you from doing as you please, but I must remind you of how dangerous an excess of alcohol can be."

Everything after that was a blur.

***

Her head felt like it had been inside a forming press. The inside of her mouth felt like sand. Light was pain. She covered her face with a pillow and shuddered.

A maid's knocking on the door sounded like a hammer on her temple. "Your Highness? Would you care for a glass of water?"

Yes, oh YES!!

Muriel slid her pillow off her face and said with the most damaged voice, "Yes, please." Her legs shook as she got out of bed, but she managed. She would have done anything to get that water.

Later, when Muriel was ready to get dressed, she was still feeling like a recently beaten criminal when she asked a maid, "What in the world happened last night?"

With a lowered head and a humble tone, the maid told her, "You took in so much wine, Your Highness, so much! And so did your honorable husband! We've never seen such a thing in this castle. We were all biting our lips as we watched."

"Is that so?" Muriel said as she combed her hair.

"Truly, Your Highness," the first maid said. "You stumbled and wept all the way to your bedchamber. Then you sent us all away."

Muriel's red eyes closed as she tried to remember anything from last night, but nothing much came to her.

At breakfast, she noticed that Vidar was in an even grumpier mood than she was, but he kept quiet about it. He even held a cold, damp rag against his protruding forehead.

Princess Arya's first words to them were full of contempt. After a few minutes of bearing her scolding, Vidar pounded one fist onto the dining table and shouted out, "YES!! WE'RE FULLY AWARE OF OUR MISBEHAVIOR!! NOW LET US BE!!"

Muriel put her palms to her ears and closed her eyes. Vidar's voice might as well have been a gunshot.

But then, through her hands, Muriel heard Princess Arya sigh. "I suppose both of you have learned your lesson."

Later that night, Muriel secretly took Doctor Bergson aside and asked him if the "assistant" had gone to her room. She honestly couldn't remember. The doctor whispered to her, "Yes, Your Highness. I took him to your room, and he returned to me shortly after. You personally told me that he performed his duty." He shrugged. "You weren't pleased with the situation."

"Did anything else happen?" Muriel had suddenly wondered if she had shown her temper off to her husband again, not that he would've remembered it. As far as she knew, Vidar had also forgotten most of everything.

"I'm not certain. Once we had the man paid and sent off, I went to my room."

Muriel sighed. "It's fine, then. Thank you, Doctor."

***

Muriel was able to smile as she woke up the next morning. She had very pleasant dreams floating around in her memories. There might have been a success. There just might have been the beginnings of new life growing inside her, and if that was true she wouldn't have to do that disgusting thing with the "assistant" anymore.

During the afternoon, wearing a smaller skirt with a modest bum roll, Muriel hummed a bouncing song as she played a board game with her husband. He tended to let her win, which often bothered her, but he couldn't be bullied into sincerity on this matter.

"Has anything odd happened lately?" Vidar asked as two of his patchy fingers slid a tile a few inches towards her.

"I haven't noticed anything," Muriel said as she moved a tile to her right.

"Hmmm, that's very good, then." He clacked one tile on top of another. "Keep a vigilant attitude. While I do believe that my brother is cowed for now, you're still on his mind. However, all of our guards have been very careful, and all of our servants have been examined. Nobody has any poisons or secret abortifacients. Nobody has any money they shouldn't have."

"Then might I be able to relax?" Muriel asked with a sigh. "Pregnancy is the goal for now, and pregnant women shouldn't be overly stressed."

Vidar removed three tiles from the board, folding his hand and swallowing the little wooden things into his flesh. "Oh, my darling wife, once you're with child, I'll punish anyone stupid enough to bother you."

Once again, he let her win the game. Then the couple sat together on a couch and watched the wind blow outside. It was a gentle little thing in the beginning, but it soon became powerful enough to encourage indoor activities. Muriel's cheeks were soon lightly patted and stroked by long fingers as she closed her eyes and listened to the weather. How could something so violent be so soothing to her ears?

"Muriel?"

"Yes?"

"I miss you."

She thought to say, "But I haven't left this place." Then she realized that they hadn't been physically intimate in a long time, or it was a long time when one considered the fact that they had only recently married. Muriel had been so upset about their sneaky actions that she didn't want to do much.

"I haven't been open and accepting of you, now have I?" Muriel said.

"But I understand your feelings," he told her.

Blindly smiling, Muriel thought that even trying to understand another's feelings was an admirable thing.

They left the couch, and together they walked up to Vidar's quarters. Inside his bedchamber, Muriel tugged on an arm and had him sit on the bed. Then she sat down beside him and carefully used her thumb to massage some of his fingers. "My husband has been such a patient man," she said with warmhearted words. "Even when his wife was too cross, he never did anything against her."

His fingers swayed and twitched under her touches. "How can you not have a cross mind when I've asked you to humiliate yourself?"

"Such a gentle man." Muriel brought his hand to her lips, and she happily kissed it.

Then she let him undress her and do whatever he wished with her body.

Time crawled along, and when they were spent and washed, the couple had little discussions about trivial matters. Muriel found one of the garments Vidar wore. Instead of a shirt or waistcoat, it was more like a open surcoat. It seemed much easier to make than a shirt with multiple holes for his arms. Sliding the pads of her thumbs over the plain stitches in the cloth, Muriel asked Vidar, "One day, do suppose you might have a tailor again?"

Still beside her, the uppermost set of shoulders on Vidar's body rose in a shrug. "If my eyes fail and my hands die, then I'll hire a tailor."

Folding the garment into her lap, Muriel put out another question. "Why were you cursed?"

Her husband's large head turned at an angle as he looked at her. "You'd love an answer to that, wouldn't you?"

"I'm assuming you did something to anger the fairy."

Another shrug from the man. "You've never even asked for her name, but you want to know of her intentions?"

Muriel got up to put the folded clothing on an ottoman. "I'm not interested in her. I'm interested in you."

"It's not a complicated mystery, Muriel. She was a lover of mine, but I grew tired of her, and I ended the relationship. She was so angry that she cursed me."

Turning back around with a sigh, Muriel said, "I believe in people's general cruelty, but I have difficulty believing that fairy's motivation was so simple."

"Oh Darling, people aren't so horrible," Vidar waved at her to sit back down on the bed, "and my curse honestly did come from a petty and dull motivation."

Muriel crossed her ankles once she was seated on the bed again. "Of all the people in the world, you should be the most aware of how disgusting humanity is, needlessly hurting one innocent thing after another."

To her mild irritation, her husband shook his head, but she noticed he was smiling. "Cooperation is vital to our survival as a species, and kindness is an outgrowth from that. While cruelty can never truly disappear, I believe that as long as humanity exists, then it's a sign of our proclivity towards cooperation and kindness."

Muriel's eyes narrowed as she looked down at her hands. Her fingers curled and opened several times.

Vidar had been cursed, horribly so, by a fairy for a stupid reason. He had that Emil as an older brother, which implied terrible things in his past. Yet Vidar still believed that people were good overall?

Muriel wondered about that for a long time.

***

By the time Muriel knew she was pregnant, winter was beginning again. She often craved sour and salty food, yet also had occasional heartburn. The mornings were the most common times for her to feel ill, and she would usually vomit a bit. The chamber pot was her new favorite ally because she had to use it ridiculously often. It was still too early for her belly to extend, but after a discussion with Doctor Bergson it was confirmed.

Princess Arya was so thrilled that she clapped her hands and gave a girlish squeal. It was enough to make both Muriel and Vidar recoil and stare at her. Then Princess Arya urged Vidar to write a letter to his father. As that was being done, Muriel wrote a letter to her own father. This was the grandest news yet. Everybody needed to know.

On that night, Muriel knelt on Vidar's bed while he hand fed her toast topped with bean paste. Then he gave her a cup of sweetened water and kissed her arm all the way down to the back of her hand. When Muriel had taken her sips and put the cup on the nightstand, she listened to Vidar give her all kinds of compliments.

And then he suddenly tugged on one of her sleeves. "Your gown's narrow today, so why don't you come with me?"

"Come with you?" Muriel smiled. "I'm already with you."

His long chin brushed against her face as he put a kiss in her hair. "I want to show you something precious."

Curious, but trying not to expect much, Muriel let Vidar lead her away. He moved a wall in his bedroom and took her inside the web of secret halls where he once hid himself to watch the servants. It was so dark, but there was no fear. Her hand was clasped with gentle strength. Her feet were cautious but casual.

After some turns and staircases, Vidar stopped and showed her a tiny peephole that had a view of a garden outside. Muriel put her eye at the hole and watched.

Shrouded in darkness, a tall figure that had to be a man was met by a smaller figure with a skirt, likely a woman. The woman ran into the man and put her arms around him, and they shared soft little love words. They even seemed to kiss. Muriel heard Vidar's whisper. "They meet there every night. Isn't it adorable?"

"It is." Muriel covered the peephole with her hand and leaned back against Vidar. "You'll have to help them marry soon."

Vidar held her jaw then, and he kissed her for a long time, humming into her. He rubbed her belly and back, somehow weakening her legs. Muriel's skirts were being pulled up.

Here, right here? In the corridor?

Almost as roughly as a captive, Muriel was held against a wall. Her feet weren't even grazing the floor. Her backside was kept on a long arm. Her arms were kept at her sides.

Of course, she couldn't move, but Muriel was thrilled by the knowledge.

Vidar's tongue and lips kept her from crying out as he cupped her mons and stroked her blushing little parts.

Another hand sunk into her neckline; the fingers pinched her nipple. His tongue's tip flicked on hers.

Muriel's flesh was constantly switching between hot and cold. Even though it was dark, there were tiny lights flashing behind her eyelids. She tried to rock her hips into the roaming fingers, but it was difficult. Vidar wouldn't give her any quarter. Muriel was unable to do anything as he stretched her poor little cunt with his fingers. He might as well have put a cock in there.

Vidar's tongue slithered away and he kissed her delicate ear. He harshly whispered to her, "I wish I could have courted you normally."

"Ah ... Vidar?"

"I'd have loved to share a secret kiss in the gardens." He slid a palm on her cheek.

His middle finger touched her lips. She licked that finger and said, "Hmmmmm, you're so silly. We can kiss in the garden every day."

"But it wouldn't be special ... wouldn't be romantic."

But even though Vidar's voice was sad, he so kindly massaged her insides, pulling out all her hot juices.

Panting, trying not to be loud, Muriel managed to say, "With so many victories, you still have room for ... ah ... for regret? Please forget ... forget that and ... and ... crash into me."

She heard his clothing being adjusted beneath her.

"Muriel ... my delicious Sweet Cream."

He took his fingers out of her wet hole then blissfully impaled her with his smooth stalk. Muriel hissed as she tried to wrap her legs around him. Vidar wouldn't allow it. He carefully held her legs up and apart.

The wall behind her was so hard and rough, but Muriel had little reason to care.

Especially since, for the first time ...

Vidar actually put his seed in her.

Too bad there wasn't any room for it to bloom.

***

King Thorvaldo himself arrived at the Vantrim Castle, along with his own attendants and four special people. Two male physicians and two midwives. Muriel was examined by all four, and then they confirmed that she was pregnant. After that, the king was noticeably warm towards her. He often patted her hand or cheek. He often smiled at her, and he even referred to her by her given name at times.

Before the king left the castle, he presented Muriel with a gift. It was a very lovely folding fan. The guard and shoulder was made of gold. The blades were carved mother of pearl. The mount was silk with a lovely scene painted onto it; innocent maidens were picking apples from healthy trees. Their feet were bare and blushing. Their faces were happy.

Word was spreading around faster and faster. Muriel was in an untouchable state.

When her family came to visit, her father hugged her for a long time. He even said he almost didn't believe it at first. He didn't outright say he had been concerned about what sort of child Vidar would give her, but the implication was there. Muriel did everything she could think of to erase his worries.

After all, she wasn't concerned. She was expecting a perfect little child with fair hair.

When winter was over, and the Capital Season began, Muriel's belly was protruding but not in a clumsy way. The little child moved around in there. Her breasts were swelling. Doctor Bergson recommended that at night she sleep on her left side with a pillow between her legs. He also recommended that she eat more vegetables with fish and less heavy foods. Sometimes her lower back hurt. Sometimes her legs spasmed or swelled.

At least the sex was still good.

In Padulan, Muriel mostly stayed inside the townhouse. She didn't go to any balls or other exciting events because of her pregnancy. But she did on occasion walk with someone in peaceful parks or around shopping districts. She also had frequent visitors. Her family also came over quite often, bringing food and handmade baby clothing. Even with all the uncomfortable problems that came with pregnancy, Muriel was having a tranquil period in her life.

When half of the Capital Season was gone and summer was beginning, Muriel was heavy with child. She couldn't sit down for long periods; it hurt her bones and great belly. Yet, she also had moments of fatigue. Her breath was short at times. Her attitude sometimes swung from one extreme to another. One day, she literally pitched a fit of screaming and crying after she dropped a hat. Normally, she would have simply picked the thing up, but her discomfort only added to her bitterness, and she turned into a mess. Thankfully, everyone around Muriel seemed to understand that she wasn't her best self and she was forgiven.

On a hot afternoon, Muriel sat down in her tastefully decorated bedroom, wearing loose and light maternity clothes and special stays that didn't constrict her belly at all, but only helped support her back. She was reading a playful novel and sighing to herself.

Someone knocked on her door. "Muriel?"

"Yes Vidar? The door isn't locked."

He entered the room and closed the door gently as if he was afraid of waking someone up. His voice was hushed. "I don't want to leave you alone for too long."

Muriel closed her book and put it aside. "Then come sit beside me, my Dearest."

Vidar's tall form went to a chair beside her, creaking the wooden frame and pushing air out of its cushions. Muriel reached over to caress the limbs through his thin cloak.

He said with a happy, breezy tone, "Last night, I had a funny nightmare. Within the nightmare, I woke up and found that everything between us was nothing but a dream, and I never left my dark world. When I truly awakened, and I realized that you're real, I was euphoric."

Muriel searched under his cloak and pulled on a random wrist. She brought his hand to her belly and kept it there as she spoke to him. "Our child is coming. He's right here, waiting to wake up from its dream. We'll have to reassure it that it's real, that we're real, and it's loved."

And the child was real. It was loved, truly.

A month into summer, it happened. Muriel started giving birth. It was the wildest, most exhausting, most terrifying, bloodiest bundle of hours in the world. Vidar sat on her right as she laid on her bed. The king's midwives and physicians were there, fussing over and tending to her, while servants ran about to keep the flow of supplies steady. Doctor Bergson gave the final orders to the king's workers because he had the most knowledge concerning Muriel's health.

Everyone was so concerned. Everyone kept giving each other tense looks, knowing looks, as if they were hiding a secret, except for Vidar. He held her hand and sadly put his long face to her collarbone, weeping.

When everything was completely finished, when Muriel was finally able to rest and the baby was being washed, she was so pleased. She had heard that it was a boy, a sweet little boy.

Doctor Bergson put the soft little bundle of innocence into Muriel's arms.

He was a gurgling little thing with sleepy blue-gray eyes and pale fuzz on his head.

One of Vidar's unfortunately ugly hands reached down to the blanket the baby was wrapped in. "A handsome little prince, isn't he?" He dipped his fingertips in to affectionately, but lightly, touch the boy's shoulders. "Ah!" The hand jerked back as if it had been burned. "What's this?!"

"What? What is it, Vidar?" Muriel's voice was so hoarse and so bare that she could barely form the words. She pulled the cloth away to study the baby, foot to head.

Normal, pink little feet, charming enough to make any normal person squeal with glee. Soft little legs that would one day grow into a pair of breeches.

Then ...

Muriel gasped.

The little prince had four arms and hands. From the shoulders to the relaxed little fingers, the limbs had patchy coloring, random flesh colors from every skin-tone known to mankind. Other than those odd arms, the little infant was completely normal.

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