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She remembered being frightened when she found out. Yor surely thought she’d been poisoned. The flu-like symptoms along with the nausea were akin to when she would microdose herself with lethal doses of poison to build up her immunity when she first started as an assassin. It was the only thing that made sense to her at the time— however, she’s not an idiot. She hadn’t touched any poison lately.
Her eyes bore into the five plastic tests, all gleaming with an unmistakable red plus sign. While a part of her was happy and excited, a sense of dread settled deep in her core.
Was it fair of her to be happy? To be satisfied creating life when she spent the majority of her life destroying it? Her mind supplied helpfully that they were bad people, they deserved it. She was only following the Shopkeeper’s orders, but nonetheless people were dead because of her. She shouldn’t have had the authority to determine whether they lived or died. Yor only knew to take life, not create it— She was Death’s daughter.
When she told Loid, he didn’t react immediately. She knew he was gauging her own reaction first, as she told him with nervous chuckles and the skin around her nails bitten until she drew blood. He asked her how she felt and she remembered feeling grateful that she found Loid of all people. It seemed so miniscule, but she knew that rarely do people ask the mother how they feel.
So Yor was honest— She felt excited, hopeful, scared, intimidated— but she knew this was something she wished to do for so long and it was finally safe enough to do so now. She had a home, a family, and Yuri could take care of himself now. But she was still afraid.
They had known about their true identities for some time now, and each of them had wholeheartedly accepted one another. But she still felt ashamed. She still had nightmares of being covered in blood from head to toe, nearing death with no end in sight. Sometimes she dreamt of encountering the grim reaper and when she finally removed his helm, it was always her own reflection.
She told him reluctantly (as though he would ever judge her, or see her differently) that having a child goes against her very nature. She was raised to be a killer, not quite a nurturer. Loid provided ample evidence that that wasn’t true. That she was kind and nurturing, that she had the sort of comforting presence that rolled off of her in waves. She believed him, but something about the baby coming from her, living inside her in all her sins made her blood run cold.
Anya found out accidentally when a premonition from Bond materialized unexpectedly. Yor could tell almost immediately because Anya shot up with a look of glee and her eyes sparkled more than usual. She couldn’t help but smile— her own personal misgivings shouldn’t rain on daughter’s parade. So, she nodded to confirm and was met with such a forceful hug it nearly knocked her over.
Yor watched Anya carefully afterward. She thought maybe her hands weren’t as poisonous as she believed if she was able to raise both Anya and Yuri. They seemed to have turned out alright, despite what they’d endured. Anya’s pink locks that she helped brush every morning were now past her shoulders, settling on her upper back and her quirk of speaking in the third person had faded with time.
While Anya was growing up to be exactly who Yor knew she would always be— who Loid insisted was due to her kindness and her nature— the heaviness nestled in her chest never ceased.
When she began to show, it felt like a secret she could no longer hide from herself. She gazed at herself in the mirror, hand sliding down her midriff until it met the small bump at her lower abdomen. She understood why she felt the way she did— a dormant sense of glee intertwined with dread became her general disposition. No matter how long ago she’d retired, or how long it’d been since the cold war ended, Yor knew her brain was unable to grapple with the fact that the person in the mirror was no longer the Thorn Princess.
She noticed Loid’s eyes would linger on her a little longer than usual. He wasn’t admiring her beauty, not when frown lines settled deep on her face as time passed.
She made sure to share her every thought with him, to assure him that she never regretted her decision and that she was excited. That she was happy. Because she was— despite how often her nightmares were drowning her in blood and thorns. Yor didn’t want to admit it to herself, but she was afraid of scaring him away. It couldn’t have been easy to see your wife so in her head about something that should be delightful for both of you.
People— strangers— would congratulate her on the street, and she was never good at conversation, let alone accepting compliments. She could only mutter a quick thank you before they went on their way, but it warmed her in a way she didn’t foresee. They told her she was glowing, which she heard was a common side effect of having a baby, but when she looked in the mirror, Yor couldn’t see anything different.
Loid spent a lot of time taking care of her. She felt a little lame and pathetic, but he continued to remind her that he knew she was perfectly capable of doing things on her own and that he only wanted to help.
He slowly but surely phased Yor out of the housework as time went by, but she asked him kindly to let her at least do the dishes or she’d have nothing else to do. He massaged her neck and shoulders when she didn’t ask and took over the job of making late night tea after Anya went to bed. She wondered if the ‘nesting’ that Sharon told her about occurred in partners as well, though it was a bit too early, she thought. Perhaps she looked less put together than she appeared, that hiding her feelings wasn’t as easy as it felt. Maybe Loid knew her too well and he could see right through her, past her soft rosy skin and inside where her darkness resided.
She stared at him for a long time after he handed her a freshly brewed cup of tea and thought, does a killer really deserve this? And when his eyes met hers and her lips touched his, she realized he’s a killer too.
The pressure sitting on her chest lightened just a little, but it was enough that she could finally breathe.
She read every ‘What to Expect When You’re Expecting’ book front to back two to three times. As though it would absolve her of her sins and cleanse her soiled hands. She couldn’t touch a freshly born baby with the hands of a killer— she wouldn’t dare. So, she would do any and everything to prepare.
Loid ‘borrowed’ some books from the hospital he worked at and Yor would have them read by the end of the week. She took careful notes, as though she were reading a briefing on a target. Old habits die hard, she supposed. Maybe she looked crazed, but she didn’t care— preparation made her feel better. She’d never raised a child from the newborn phase, she wasn’t sure she’d ever held a baby until her cruise ship mission.
With each sentence she retained, she felt the tension in her shoulders slipping away.
One night, she felt a flutter in her stomach. It was fleeting, but distinct and almost tangible. She sat up almost immediately, shaking Loid gently until he stirred. His voice was heavy with sleep when he finally responded and Yor told him she felt something strange. She grabbed his hand, pressing his fingers into the top of her bump and when she felt the flutter again, Loid almost fell out of the bed.
They stayed awake nearly all night feeling the baby move. When they finally pass out, Yor would wake up the next morning forgetting she ever felt such a strong heaviness in her chest.
A smile started to settle on her face again. Somewhere along the way, her happiness began to overshadow her dread. She wasn’t entirely cured, of course, but it became easier to express the joy she knew she felt inside.
It was difficult to think of herself in a negative light when her body was a vessel to such a beautiful and pure thing. She thought, perhaps this was her purification. She didn’t need to keep paying for her sins when she was so obviously regretful, when she had no choice but to sacrifice her childhood to ensure her brother had a better one. She was a martyr, a victim of circumstance— could she finally forgive herself?
The thorns caging her chest made way for rosebuds as the days went by.
Loid had started the nursery, Yor’s old room from the Operation: Strix days, months ago. She had a hard time going in at the beginning, but now as she stood in the center, Yor took initiative. Franky and Loid both listened attentively as she told them where to put everything. The walls were painted a light yellow and a floral trim sat at the edges. Light wood detailing was scattered throughout from the rocking chair to the crib. She realized she didn’t have much say in the decoration at the beginning and that most of this was Loid’s doing. She felt regretful but pleased that he was willing to take on so much by himself before.
Sharon, Millie and Camila insisted on throwing her a baby shower, to which she had entirely mixed feelings about. Especially since Camila offered to host it at her own home. She wondered idly when they became close enough to do favors for each other without Yor having to beg her. Maybe it was the seriousness or the sentimentality of her situation— It was life-changing for everyone.
She had no choice but to accept which is how she ended up surrounded by most of the girls at work playing baby-inspired games. She had to admit that it was making her feel emotional, everyone gathered to celebrate her and her child. It was as if she could feel the slow drip of her frozen heart as it melted. She caught herself smiling genuinely at everyone, opening gifts with vigor and holding them close to her heart.
Sharon wrote her a heartfelt letter inside a card and tears welled up in her eyes immediately. She had been given new clothes and hand-me-downs and something felt so intimate and close about being given clothing that had been a staple in a child or two’s life.
They gave her a mystery cupcake with the inside dyed blue or pink to know the sex of the baby, but she quickly shut it down. Yor wouldn’t want to find out without Loid— so they sent her home with three for each of them including Anya to bite into.
They readied the cupcakes and counted down to three all together to bite as Bond watched curiously. Yor instantly burst into tears and Loid and Anya quickly corralled her. Her half-bitten cupcake was dropped and forgotten as blue icing smeared on the table.
She was nearing the end of her pregnancy now. Nesting was in full swing. She filled the changing table to the brim, finally moved all the clothing and various gifts that people had given her to the nursery.
When Loid entered the room chuckling, she threw a onesie at his chest. He approached her from behind, hands placed on either side of her belly as she leaned her head back to deliver a kiss. She was suddenly reminded of her behavior from months ago and couldn’t help but frown.
She apologized to him sincerely, but she could hardly get a word out without Loid claiming she had nothing to apologize for. Yor didn’t feel like going back and forth, but he knew how genuine her regret was. She never once doubted the type of person Loid was, even when he revealed he was a spy, even when he revealed he was from Westalis. All it did was make him blossom in her eyes— He would always be the soil intertwined with her roots, holding her together.
Even when blood dripped from his fingers as well, she never questioned the kind of father he would be. She wondered why she couldn’t extend the same kindness to herself for so long. Everything she did was for her protection, for Yuri’s protection, for Anya’s and even Loid before she knew his hands were tainted as well.
This was her purification. The acceptance of her flaws, of everything that made her her. She could finally cleanse her hands and trim off the dead leaves that weighed her down.
When she showered that night, she could almost feel the bloodied thorns pooling at her feet and being sucked down the drain.
Labor was a blur. Anya and Bond were hurried off to Franky’s and Loid drove (frantically) to the hospital. Only then did Yor understand how real everything was, she could feel the familiar dread in her chest trying to make its way back. Though, it was difficult not to be amused by Loid, watching his usual calm and cool demeanor fall apart at the seams. He tried his best to remain calm, but Yor could see his carotid artery pulsing quicker than usual.
She couldn’t remember much after that. Only glimmers of pain and happiness with Loid supporting her nearby. But it was only a few hours later that she held a small sleeping baby in her arms. Her fingers brushed his rosy cheeks and her eyes met Loid’s who was trying— and failing— to keep his tears from falling. The baby shared her dark hair and Loid’s ocean eyes, and she couldn’t take her eyes off of him.
Warmth bloomed throughout her chest and she felt her heart being shielded from darkness that held her so dear. She had a better understanding of herself— that all the pain and suffering she endured until now was so she could experience the euphoria of now. She knew she didn’t deserve it, but she thought it was okay to finally have something good.
Her fingernails weren’t bloodstained anymore and tending to her own wounds were a thing of the past. She was truly safe here. A tear fell down her cheek, landing on her cooing baby’s face. As she rubbed the tear away, his eyes opened slowly and a smile spread across his face for a moment.
Thorn Princess may have been her beginning and she was always sure it would have been her end, destined to become one with the soil. But as she eyed her family around her, carefully passing the baby around as her sweat-slicked hair still stuck to her face, she was delighted to end as Yor Forger.