Chapter Eight #3
The book had many line drawings and descriptions to help beginners make various things such as jumpers and blankets.
He started with blankets since they’d be the easiest. He messed up a lot at first for a couple of days, but it grew easier.
Eventually, he didn’t even need the book.
He knitted away the hours, soothed by the repetitive movement as the baby’s first blanket grew.
Occasionally, he took a nap in the afternoon and went back to knitting.
Growing a baby was making him tired, and he often wanted to go to bed early at night. Tivar’s needs came first.
He was pretty sure he was carrying a boy, although he didn’t know why.
Maybe it was because he was supposed to have a boy.
Tivar wouldn’t be pleased with a girl, but he’d accept her.
It wasn't like Lumi had control over what he birthed.
He could have a boy later, right? Maybe Tivar was correct, and Lumi would be able to have more now.
That’s what Lumi told himself. Unfortunately, if he had another baby, it certainly wouldn’t be Jaki’s, and he couldn’t do anything about it. At least he had one now who had to be the Prince’s baby.
He always put the needles on the bedside table when Tivar entered the bedroom. They were taken away and kept out of his reach.
Tivar was only gentler in bed because he didn’t want to injure his future heir, not because he wanted to be tender and sweet with his fake little brother.
Lumi acted like his usual self: compliant, eager, and happy to serve.
He watched the skylight when he stayed on his back and let his fake brother do what he wanted. What else was there to do?
His meals were whatever Tivar thought was best. When Lumi hit five months, he tried asking for a couple of things he craved one night after he’d swallowed Tivar’s cum.
The orgasm hadn’t been enough to make Tivar agree, and he said Lumi shouldn’t waste his appetite on sweets.
They weren’t good for babies in his opinion.
“I’ll get you a present instead.”
Surprisingly, he brought something, and the present turned out to be a couple of wolver flowers which were grubby and already half-wilted. Tivar said it was the best he could find outside in the garden and left Lumi to knit. A cinnamon bun with honey brushed on top would have been better.
Lumi stared at the limp flowers on the bedside table. He used to love wolver flowers when he was young, and he would pluck them to feel the soft pink petals. He’d stopped caring about flowers a long time ago.
The pink reminded him of Jaki’s eyes, and he started to cry even though he hadn’t done so in the room for a long time. He’d never get to tell Jaki about his baby. It’d be another bastard in their fucked-up family.
It was also around the five-month mark when he finally felt the baby move for the first time. It was small, and it gave him an elated feeling that lasted all day. He didn’t mention it to Tivar so he could have that all to himself too for a bit.
The baby would have no shortage of blankets, caps, booties, and jumpers since Lumi had plenty of time to read and knit.
He had no idea what Tivar did with himself all day and didn’t care to know.
By six months, it was harder to get comfortable since he’d grown bigger.
The skin around the scar stretched enough to itch.
For sex, he had to get on his hands and knees so Tivar could mount him from behind.
Lumi wanted to look at the skylight and be elsewhere while the heat did the work of being eager for him, but he did what Tivar ordered.
As usual. He stared at the other end of the shackle on the headboard or the windows while he pretended to love it and came on the blanket.
Tivar complained about having to do the position like it was a big bother to him for whatever reason.
Lumi had to ignore his cravings because those hadn’t gone away, and he told himself he was spoiled after three years of meals at court.
Even with no clothes, being pregnant also made him feel uncomfortably warm at times, and his pecs had swelled a little, although milk wouldn’t start coming.
His nipples, which had been pale before, were darker too.
“You look like a cow or a mookie,” Tivar told him one night. “I can’t believe you’ll only get bigger.”
Lumi had thought his round belly looked rather cute, and the comment stung beyond belief.
“Your son is in there,” he whispered. “He has to grow, and it’s mostly just my stomach growing-”
“You still look like a cow.” Tivar gestured at Lumi’s stomach and his chest. “Your pecs are swollen too. I can’t wait until you’re thin again.”
Jaki wouldn’t say that. He’d be horrified about a child with his half-brother, but he probably wouldn’t be that crass and insult Lumi’s appearance even if he grew bigger than a snow bear.
He pictured himself as a fat, white mookie with black and pink spots while it chewed on grass.
Tivar thought he looked fat and still wanted more kids? He’d always insult Lumi.
Tivar rolled his eyes. “Oh, for Elira’s sake. You better not turn into one of those weepy pregnant men. I swear. Now you look like a crying cow. Make yourself useful and suck my dick.”
Lumi almost envied Tivar. Not quite, because his older brother was a piece of shit, and sick in the head, but there were a few things to be jealous of.
Tivar didn’t have constant pressure on his bladder, and he wasn’t waking up once or twice to piss every damn night.
He didn’t grow overheated. He also didn’t deal with sensitive nipples, an itchy belly from the stretched skin, or the occasional leg cramp.
He could also stand straight, look down, and see his toes. Lumi wouldn’t dare make remarks about his body, but Tivar also didn’t have to hear that he was fat, his swollen pecs were ugly, or the stretch marks on his belly were gross.
Thankfully, Tivar often went out once a week.
Lumi knew he went to a whorehouse because he’d come back smelling of booze and scents for ladies or men, and he’d be drunk off his ass.
He usually didn’t care to fuck when he returned since a whore had drained his balls.
Tivar had kept the habit for years even when trying to get his fake brother pregnant, so he must have liked a change of holes.
When Lumi was alone, he felt better, and he could truly appreciate the little life more.
He talked and sang to his belly or read to it from his books.
All of the little movements and kicks excited him because it was like the baby was listening and cared about what he told it.
Some people said babies could hear in the womb, and he was sure his child grew more excited at certain songs he sang.
Tivar didn’t like touching his belly to feel the kicks. He said it was strange and unnatural to him even though he seemed to truly believe it was his kid. Lumi was happy to keep another little bit to himself for the most part.
Since he carried high, Tivar was sure it was a boy, although everyone said different things and could be wrong or right. Birth was the only way to know. By the ninth month, Lumi felt as if he’d pop like a soap bubble, and Tivar called him a sow.
He wouldn’t even fuck Lumi anymore and insisted on blowjobs only.