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Knight & Lady, Part 1 (MtF, FtM TG Preg)
🕑 Added 2024-11-15 23:19:32 +0000 UTCI hope you enjoy this new TG ongoing since Spy Swap ended!
By FoxFaceStories
A Commission for Al
Within the fantastical world of Vortis, there is no greater hero than Sir Marcus. He has earned the hand of his love, the beautiful Lady Astrid, and all should be well. But when a horrid curse prevents them from conceiving, the pair must leave on one final adventure: to an ancient well that may grant their wish to bear children. But when the wish is made, who shall be the father, and who the mother? Soon the pair must reorient themselves as their bodies switch genders and roles, all while their wish’s desire beckons.
Chapter 1: The Barren Curse
Marcus gripped the sword in both hands. His shield was shattered. His armour was falling apart. He had been wounded along his forearms where the fell beast of a dragon had spat its acidic fire. And he was exhausted. But Astrid’s life was in jeopardy, and for her he would cross oceans of agony to save.
“I give you one last chance, cruel tyrant!” he shouted across the fallen courtyard of the once-great citadel the dragon Atarax had made its lair. “Release my lady love, and we will leave in peace. Refuse, and your fiery heart shall taste my coldest steel.”
Atarax bellowed a dread sound, the monstrous mirror to a man’s laughter. Jets of black sulphur erupted from its mouth, and its dark green scales seemed to shimmer with heat. A haze of ash surrounded it, as if to demonstrate through magic that this was a creature of ruin and despair.
‘Petty mortal. Thou hast been injured. I can smell thine blood upon the air, and see thine fear in thine eyes. Your lady is of noble bearing. She will be a fine feast, and her corpse will thus carry magic potential for mine own spellmaking.”
It swivelled its great head to look upon the Lady Astrid, tied to a pole beside the beast. She was young and beautiful, with bright curls of red hair and mesmerising green eyes. She was twenty five years old, but Marcus knew she had wisdom beyond her years and intelligence too. He had fallen for her when they were teenagers, and it had taken him years to earn her respect, and then later on, her love. Years of honing his body and soul into the greatest protector of the realm of Vortis, so that the scruffy young boy with tangled brown hair was now a tall, stalwart adventurer with handsome good looks and more than a few scars earned through battle.
“Go, Marcus!” Astrid called, struggling against her restraints. “Please, save yourself!”
“I’m not leaving without you, my love,” he answered. “What say you, tyrant? Will you be honourable, or will you be nothing more than a petty creature, intent on death?”
The creature bellowed more of that foul laughter, tar-like acid dripping from its lizard–like lips.
“Fool mortal. It is thou who hath chosen to make war upon death itself. Now death will claim thee. It claims thee - NOW!”
The beast surged forward, its length like that of a snake, its jaws like those of a crocodile, its strength like that of a hurricane. Marcus had little time. He had taunted Atarax, and now the creature was withholding its foul breath, wanting to snap him up personally and crunch his bones slowly. It was just as he hoped, because it closed the distance between them. He ran forward, throwing himself into danger even as Astrid cried out in terror; from her view she could see nothing more than the dragon’s great mass enveloping the beast.
And then Marcus ducked at the last second beneath the dragon’s snapping maw, thrust up his sword, and jumped again to the side before the creature could crush him flat.
Astrid gazed in awe as the dragon staggered, whined, turned about to face Marcus . . . and then collapsed, wheezing. Black ichor of the darkest magic ebbed from its pierced heart. Relief flooded her as Marcus reached her and immediately tore at her bonds with his dagger. She embraced him the moment she was free, holding him close, tender tears slipping down her cheeks.
“Marcus! Marcus! You saved me, I didn’t think you would come. I didn’t think-”
“Hush, my lady. I will always come for you. You know that. I intend to take your hand, if you will still have it, and no dragon will stop me. Only if you, if you no longer desire me.”
Astrid actually managed to burst out laughing, despite everything. “Oh, ever so dramatic, Marcus!”
“Well, I did just slay a foul dragon.”
She laughed again, already calming in his presence. “Well, yes, you did. I suppose we must give you points for that. And provided you can get me back to the city in time for a nice, long, hot bath and then wear some clothes that aren’t smelling of sulphur, then I’d say the wedding is very much still on, my love.”
Marcus grinned, and the two kissed. Her lips did indeed taste of sulphur, but he didn’t mind so much, so long as they were hers.
“Let’s get out of here.”
“No looking for dragon’s gold? No great hoard?”
“The only treasure I need is you, Astrid,” he said, picking her up.
She giggled as he lifted her. She stared up into his hazel eyes. “I don’t know, I still think a dragon’s hoard would be of some use.”
“I am . . . quite tired, Astrid.”
“Oh, of course! Sorry! Yes, let’s get back to your horse and I’ll tend to your wounds.”
“I have missed that.”
And this, perhaps, might have been where their troubles ended, were it not for the fact that Atarax’s life ebbed on for just a little longer, the creature’s spite giving it life enough to spit out one final curse upon the pair.
“Pathetic mortals,” it rumbled.
Immediately Marcus put Astrid down and placed himself before her, his dagger already out. He hadn’t retrieved the sword from the creature’s heart yet.
“Atarax,” he said. “Are you not dead yet? Would you like me to finish the job?”
“Dead, and dying. Thine stroke of fortune hath ended me, but I shall have my vengeance beyond my desolate grave, Marcus Denath of Vortis, Astrid of the House of Levian.”
Marcus kept his eye on the creature. “You will be forgotten, Atarax. With your enhanced senses I imagine you heard the plans of my love and I. We will be joyous, while you rot in this fallen place. A fitting end to all the suffering you brought and intended.”
The creature rumbled a gasping final chuckle.
“Joyous, hmm? Joy has always been mine enemy. I have smothered it with ash and smote it with fire. A barren and desolate world is what I hath decreed, and I decree it now for thine union. For though you shall wed, thou shall bear no fruit from thine union, be blessed with nought children. Astrid will find no babes to suckle upon her breasts, nor shall thee, Marcus, have strapping sons to teach thine heroic ways. Your manhood will be sterile as a mule, pathetic knight, and your womb will be as barren as a desert, ignoble lady. This I give with mine last breath, an unbreakable dragon’s curse upon your ‘loving’ union.”
And with that, and silence hanging in the air, the dragon finally died. Unspeaking, Marcus approached the beast and removed his sword from its pierced heart. The creature slumped again, and then started to dissolve entirely into that foul-smelling ichor. Astrid clung to him when he returned to her.
“That curse, Marcus. Is such a thing true?”
Marcus shook his head, though in truth his soul was quite shaken by what he’d heard. “Not at all, my love. And if it is, the wizard Kathorn will be able to aid us in overcoming it.” He cupped her cheek. “I know you want children, and I want them with you. The beast is dead, and it will hurt us no longer.”
Astrid nodded, and hugged him tightly. “Of course. Nothing can pry us apart now.”
“True - but - ahh - you might want to think about prying yourself apart from me now, my love. I am still injured.”
The lady did so immediately, blushing deeply. “Oh, sorry! Well, let’s see to those wounds!”
They left the fallen citadel behind, and the black sludge that had been the cruel dragon Atarax. After helping Marcus patch back up, Astrid clung to her love as he rode them back across the Ashen Plains towards the verdant kingdom of Vortis. Her heart rode high, desperate to finally be able to marry this man, and knowing that this feat of bravery would more than earn him the right in the eyes of the law and the nobility.
But she couldn’t stop thinking of the dragon’s curse also.
She had to put it out of mind, and focus on her future. She was certain it would be blessed with many children.
She was certain.
***
Astrid shed tears once more. She had possessed such high hope that this would be the time that her womb finally took, but as had been the case many times now, her bleeding had arrived. Not even a sign of pregnancy had come to her this past month.
“Damn it all,” she cried softly. “It isn’t fair!”
There was a knock upon the door to her room.
“Who is it?” the young beauty asked.
“It is just I, my lady. Jenna.”
Astrid sighed. “Come in, Jenna. I need your help . . . cleaning up.”
Her chief handmaid, good friend, and confidante all rolled into one entered. She was a lovely girl with rich olive skin and dark eyes, and hair that would look far lovelier than any noblewoman’s if she was ever daring enough to test against her rank. The two had played together as children, as was the custom in Vortis between nobility and their lineage of servants, and it had formed an unbreakable bond between the two. When Astrid had become wed to Marcus four years ago, Jenna had been, against convention, the bride’s first witness, a greatly honoured role. She had more than earned it through her compassion and loyalty, and those features were demonstrated now, because her expression was immediately crestfallen.
“Oh, Astrid,” she said, dropping ‘my lady,’ “I’m so terribly sorry.”
She came over to Astrid’s side, and the noblewoman leaned against her handmaid, trying not to sob as Jenna held her. She was dressed only in her night shift, but the red stain was obvious, as it was upon the bed.
“I had such high hopes this time, Jenna,” she said. “As did Marcus. We really thought the wizard’s remedy would work this time. Kathorn said it would likely break the dragon curse! Instead, I am still barren.”
Jenna held her. “I am sorry, my lady. Truly sorry. Perhaps next time-”
“Next time I shall get my hopes up again, only to bleed once more. Marcus thought there was a chance, he truly did! He’s returning from that border clash now; the raven came last evening. I’d hoped to give him good news after all his heroics. It’s . . . it’s what I’m meant to do, isn’t it?”
Jenna placed a hand on hers. “Marcus is a good man. He would never see it that way.”
“But he is a mighty hero, and while I am a noblewoman, I am not fulfilling my duty. We’re bred for breeding.”
“It’s been four years, my lady. I know that is difficult, but some women take longer.”
“But four years feels like an age. Fah! I know I should not complain, Jenna. Other women bear my struggle, and they do it with far more dignity. But . . . I want a baby. I want several of them. I want to give Marcus a child. I want to feed a babe from my breast. It’s . . . it’s instinct. Surely you understand it?”
Jenna nodded, her fingers seeming to fumble somewhat. “I do, my lady. I . . . yes, I do.”
“Jenna, what aren’t you telling me?”
The woman swallowed. “Nothing of importance, my lady. Let us focus on you. I promise I will do all I can to care for you and ensure that-”
But Astrid was already narrowing her eyes, looking over her friend, seeing that her chest looked a bit more full, her skin a little more glowing, a fresh glint in her hair. And she had been tired lately . . . exhausted . . . even sick that one time. Astrid’s eyes widened.
“Wait. Stop. No! You aren’t!?”
Jenna bit her lip. “I’m so sorry, my lady. I did not wish to upset you with the news.”
But Astrid was immediately hugging her friend. “Nonsense! I am joyous for you, my friend! So very joyous. Oh, I am so excited for you and Harren, truly, I am!”
Astrid grinned, perhaps a little cheekily. “But since you insist on getting with child before your own lady, I now also insist that you draw me a hot bath and help me see to all this. And then, my favourite handmaid, we are going to get you a lovely cake to celebrate. At least one woman should not be barren in this household!”
Jenna and she laughed, and things resumed from there. But while she was indeed happy for her friend, there was no denying that the knowledge cut deep. Would the dragon’s curse ever be broken?
***
“Damn it, Kathorn, there must be something we can do, anything! My wife’s own handmaid is blowing up like one of your magical bubble shields, and meanwhile my Astrid is still unable to bear children.”
Kathorn sighed. He was a smartly dressed figure, one who looked more like an academic than a classical wizard. He had eschewed the white beard for a smart, black-dyed goatee, and a set of horn-rimmed glasses that helped him peruse the many shelves of his arcanum.
“I’m deeply sorry, my lord, my lady,” he said to Marcus and Astrid. “I had pulled out all the stops on that last remedy. Nothing took, my lady, if I may ask?”
Astrid shook her head, staring at the ground. As regal and beautiful as she looked in her green dress and jewellery, she felt naked and pathetic.
“Nothing, kind wizard,” she said.
“There must be something,” Marcus insisted. “I order it. We desire children. We demand children.”
“Adoption is always a -”
Marcus held up a hand. “We already tried adoption, though it was not entirely what we desired we were absolutely ready to heap love upon a child we could give our name. But then the poor young babe became sickly. And do you know what happened the moment, in an act of wisdom by my beloved wife, when we returned him to his former caretakers? He recovered.”
Kathorn rubbed the bridge of his nose. “The dragon’s curse runs deeper than I could have imagined. I am afraid it is beyond my talents.”
Marcus tensed. Astrid knew her husband. He was a good man but forthright. He was about to deliver some harsh and unnecessary words, born more from anger at himself than anything. She held her husband’s arm, staying his anger.
“Is there nothing that can be done?” she asked, placing a hand on her slim stomach. “Please, great wizard. We would cross the stars themselves on the merest chance to hold a child of our own.”
Kathorn paused, sighed, then nodded. “There is one last thing I have found. One final chance. It will be a long journey, and not without danger, but there is a myth about an ancient well known in the Eternal Glade.”
“That’s just a legend,” Marcus muttered, but Astrid shot him a look.
“I know, which is why it is just a chance. But I have a number of new maps that may indicate a site like it, but it is far beyond the hinterlands, across the Jade Sea, towards the edge of the known world and then beyond. You would have to go there, together, and in union make a wish upon the well, then place a coin of this realm within it. Only then might the dragon’s curse be ended. Of course, even the well’s power might not be enough. Dragon magic is old magic. The wish may not turn out as you desire.”
But Astrid and Marcus were already turning to each other and holding hands. He loomed over her, and she looked up into his hazel eyes.
“You would come with me?” he asked.
“I would go without you, if I must,” she said. “But I know you would never let that be the case.”
“Of course not, my love. Where you go, I go. To the ends of the earth.”
“Literally, now,” she said, smirking.
The pair turned back to Kathorn, who was astonished at how quickly the decision had been made.
“We’ll leave in a week,” Marcus announced. “In that time, wizard, you will tell us everything you know and suspect, and all we will need to prepare for.”
To Be Continued . . .
