Because of You

"Because it's not a life yet. It's just a thing. Kinda like a paracite but nicer, I think." Wren paused thoughtfully. "Anyway, if you give it away after it's born or whatever because you don't want it, how's that gonna make the kid feel? Seems fairer to me."

Aliceabella sighed. "I never said I didnt want it. I just dont know what to do."

Wren shrugged. "Well the father clearly doesn't want it - why should you?"

"You don't know if he doesn't want it or not!" Aliceabella cried, her nails turning bright orange.

Wren's gaze shifted quickly to the sudden colour change. She frowned. "I'm gonna guess and say that's not your ordinary manicure."

Aliceabella's eyes narrowed. "You think?" She snapped, fire covering her hands.

Wren's eyes widened. "Lord mercy I am not that big a fan of fire!"

Aliceabella sighed and slumped to the floor, fire gone. "Then you should watch what you say." She whispere faintly.

Wren rolled her eyes. "Listen girlie if you can't take the truth from me then who would you rather told it to you? How about someone who you care what they think of you?"

Aliceabella narrowed her eyes. "I dont care what anyone thinks of me." She lied.

Wren sighed. "Yeah that's what I thought."

Aliceabella weakly pushed herself to her feet. "So you thought you had a thing with him? Doubt it." Her desire to burn was returning and with it a very dark mood.

Wren raised an eyebrow. "Yes but that's not what I meant." she sighed again. "Turns out I care what some people think of me. Not many, but some."

Aliceabella bit her lip, the fire fading. "You mean you care what he thinks of you." A small smile graced her face as if she was remembering something very dear to her.

Wren smiled wryly. "Yes, though I say it's because he's clan leader and I don't like burning." she chuckled sadly. "Of course only half of that is true."

Aliceabella's smile was still on her face, a finger tracing patterns on her stomach. She was oblivious to Wren.

Wren realised this and rolled her eyes. She started singing again absent-mindedly.
"Early one morning,
Just as the sun was rising,
I heard a maid sing,
In the valley below."

Aliceabella's head jerked up as if she was sensing something. She glanced down at her stomach, which seemed a little bit more prominant then before. "I'm less than a day gone, how can I be getting bigger already?" She muttered.

Wren paused her singing and shrugged.
"Oh, don't deceive me,
Oh, never leave me,
How could you use
A poor maiden so?"

Aliceabella sighed. "What can I do to get you to stop singing?"

Wren grinned and shook her head.
"Remember the vows,
That you made to your Mary,
Remember the bow'r,
Where you vowed to be true,
Oh, don't deceive me,
Oh, never leave me,
How could you use
A poor maiden so?"

Aliceabella scowled and placed a hand on Wren's arm, burning it. "Shut up!" She cried.

Wren yanked her arm away sharply and glared. "I'll sing it through for that!" she snapped.
"Oh Gay is the garland,
And fresh are the roses,
I've culled from the garden,
To place upon thy brow.
Oh, don't deceive me,
Oh, never leave me,
How could you use
A poor maiden so?"

Aliceabella narrowed her eyes then gasped suddenly and sank to her knees, vomiting up bile.

Wren stopped singing and frowned. "Morning sickness or another anti-singing tactic?"