Episode 183 Healer Tharios
Healer Tharios
“How are you feeling?” Tharios asks Viala once they’re finally alone in their room.
“I’m still a little tired.”
He wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her close. “You know, that might not be from the magic sleep.”
“Are we playing healer? What’s your assessment, Healer Tharios?”
He grins at that. “I’d need to do a more thorough examination to give you a proper assessment. Remind me what your name is again?”
“I believe it’s in my chart.”
So they’re doing this. He lets her go and reaches for his imaginary patient file in the form of a nearby writing tablet. “Hmm. It appears my assistant neglected to write it down. Can you spell it for me? I’m still mastering my Lothlesian letters.”
“Of course.” She spells out Viala for him as he writes it in the notebook, trying not to smile.
When she gets to her family name, she gives him an unexpected letter, and he frowns. “Could you say that one again?”
When she repeats the same wrong letter, he writes it down.
And then she keeps going.
Whistling wind. She’s not spelling Viala veh Astansi, her legal name.
She’s spelling Viala Westaria.
Their binding agreement stipulated that she would keep her name.
He studies the letters on the paper in front of him before looking up at her. “And how do you pronounce this?”
“Viala Westaria.”
He opens his mouth, but no words come. Is she serious? Or is this part of their little game?
“Have I rendered you speechless, elf prince?” She smiles up at him as she lowers herself to the edge of their bed.
Elf prince. She called him elf prince. She’s not playacting.
“I’m pretty sure your name is Viala veh Astansi, faerie.”
“And if I want it to be Westaria?”
“Legally?”
She nods. She is serious.
“I believe we’d have to create an addendum to our binding contract amending the section addressing names and titles. Are you telling me you wish to change your name?”
“Are you truly surprised?”
“A little. You were very vocal about your feelings on the matter when we were negotiating our binding contract.”
To put it mildly.
“I’m carrying your elfling, Tharios. Is it so hard to believe I might want to carry your name as well?”
“Well, when you put it that way...” He lowers himself to the bed beside her.
“Would my father have to agree?”
“Since he signed the original contract, probably.”
She flops back on the bed beside him, and he winces.
But she’s not made of glass. He needs to remember that.
She sighs. “I don’t know if he’d agree.”
“There may be another option. I’m unsure how your father would react, but as a citizen of Lostariel, you’re legally allowed to change your name if you wish to do so. You just need to petition the Crown for permission.”
She swings her eyes toward him as a smile tugs at her lips. “Petition the Crown? And would the Crown agree?”
He shrugs as he holds back his own smile. “It wouldn’t hurt to ask. It needs to be a written request, though.”
She sits back up and takes the notebook and pen from him, quickly scribbling what he can only assume is a formal request to change her name. Then she tears the page from the tablet and hands it to him.
“I have a formal request for the Crown.”
He takes the page as he struggles not to laugh. “I sense a conflict of interests here.”
“You answer plenty of formal requests in your father’s name.”
“I do. They rarely come from my binding partner, though. In fact, this would be a first.” He quickly scans her request to legally change her name from Viala veh Astansi to Viala Westaria. “Are you sure you don’t wish to think about this first?”
“What makes you believe I haven’t thought about it?”
“And you’re sure?”
“Completely. This is what I want, Tharios. Please.”
“All right, then.”
He collects his seal from the locking compartment built into the wall before writing “Request Granted” at the bottom of the page and signing it as Crown Prince Tharios Westaria of Lostariel on behalf of King Lorial Westaria of Lostariel. Then he stamps it with his seal and hands it back.
“Request granted. Keep this document safe. It’s proof of your official change of name, and you may be required to present it in the future.”
She stares at the paper before looking at him again. “We aren’t playing now, are we? This is official?”
“This is an official legal document in Lostariel. The first one I’ve approved in Lothlesian. I can’t guarantee it will be recognized in New Valderi, though.”
She jumps up and wraps her arms around his neck. “Thank you.”
He holds her close as he tries not to smile too widely. “You’re welcome. Now, I really do need to assess you per Healer Sorisa’s orders.”
“And what are you assessing me for, Healer Tharios?” Viala asks as she steps away from him with a gleam in her eyes.
Are they having fun again?
“There’s a rumor going around that you’re pregnant. Is that true?”
“You’re the healer. You tell me.”
“If you’ll lie back on the bed, I’ll assess you for signs of pregnancy.”
She sends him a playful smile as she climbs onto their bed and lies back. “How does this work? I’ve never done this before.”
“Just relax.”
He lays one hand over her forehead, tucking the other against the skin low on her abdomen and closing his eyes. He easily detects the blood marker, as Healer Sorisa said.
“You are definitely pregnant.” He adjusts the hand over her womb as he presses his magic to see inside her.
The changes are minor but obvious to anyone who knows to look.
He checks her vitals as well, but other than a slightly elevated heart rate that probably has more to do with where his hand is now than anything else, she seems perfectly fine.
“Do you always put your hand there to check your patients’ heart rates?” she asks, and he grins down at her.
“Only when the patient happens to be you, faerie.”
“So you have a thing for faeries?”
“I have a thing for this one.” He crawls onto the bed beside her and draws her into a kiss.
“Is this part of your assessment?” she asks when he trails his lips along her neck.
“I told you I needed to do a thorough examination.” As he lets his hands wander, his thoughts start to wander as well.
To the fact that there is very much an elfling growing inside her.
What is he doing? He can’t do this right now knowing that.
He’s about to pull back, but Viala pushes him away first.
“What’s wrong?” he asks. “Did I hurt you?”
He barely touched her.
She huffs a nervous laugh. “Tharios, my flame. My magic. I can’t—”
He rolls to his back and groans. He forgot about her magic.
“You didn’t extinguish my flame before your hands were all over me,” she whispers.
No. He didn’t.
“Tharios?” she says when he doesn’t respond.
“I’m uncertain if it’s safe for me to extinguish your flame right now.” He turns his head to look at her, and horror fills her eyes.
“You can’t be serious. Surely it’s safer than me destroying Windhaven when I lose control of my magic.”
“Well, I’d prefer to avoid that, too.”
“I can’t control it. You know that.”
He sighs. “We’ll just have to practice. Work up to it. Honestly, my head is in a strange place right now, anyway. I’m not certain I can follow this through knowing—”
“If you say one more word, I will smack you with a pillow.”
“I’ve never been on this side of it. There’s an elfling growing inside you. My elfling. Right there. And—”
She smacks him with the pillow. He probably needed that. How many times has he told pregnant patients it’s fine to continue their normal activities?
It feels so different when it’s his binding partner who’s pregnant.
“Are you done?” he asks as he grabs the pillow from her.
“Are you, elf prince?”
Their eyes meet, and the longer they stare at each other, the more mirth alights in her eyes, and his lips twitch.
Then they both laugh as they lie side by side, staring at the ceiling.
“I’m sorry,” he says as he rubs his eyes. “It just hit me without warning. I know I’m being ridiculous.”
“It’s all right. It’s probably a rite of passage for many fathers-to-be.”
“Judging by what my patients have told me, I’m going to say you’re probably correct. I’ll get over it. But your flame, Viala. I truly don’t know—”
“I know.” She rolls toward him, and he tucks her against his side.
“Perhaps Healer Sorisa knows. She’s been corresponding with your mother about Lothlesi reproduction.”
“That’s a little disturbing.”
“To help you, Viala. Because they care about you, and we all knew this would happen sooner or later. I’ll talk to her before we leave, all right?”
“And in the meantime?”
“I suppose we find something else to do?”
“Something involving food would be welcome.”
He stares at her. “We never ate lunch, did we?”
“I doubt I will ever understand how you can simply not notice you haven’t eaten until someone brings it to your attention.”
“Hey, I have a lot of other thoughts circling in my head most of the time.”
“I suppose so.” She presses a soft kiss to his lips.
“Let’s go find something to eat,” he whispers when she pulls away. “We have to keep you strong.”
“I can already tell how absolutely sweet and completely annoying you’re going to be for the next nine months, elf prince,” she says in the most saccharine voice imaginable.
“Get used to it.” He climbs off the bed and helps her up. “Viala Westaria. I do like that.”
“I thought you might.” She tugs him toward the door, and he drapes his arm around her shoulders.
“Are we taking bets on whether I’ll escape without peeling potatoes this time?”
Viala just laughs.
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s inevitable,” he mutters. “Come on.”