Knight & Lady, Part 8 (MtF, FtM TG Preg)

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.

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Chapter 8: New Arrivals

“Sick again, my love?” Alston asked.

Madeline groaned, her stomach lurching. They were not far from the gates of Vortis, but her stomach was upset once more, and that wasn’t even mentioning the tiredness she’d been feeling as of late. She had become convinced her sensitive new stomach had tired of the game they’d been catching: Alston was still learning, so it was mostly rabbits and trap-caught critters. Or perhaps those potatoes had been getting too old when she’d put them in the stew . . .

She cleaned her mouth with the napkin Alston gentlemanly passed her, irritated to have once again emptied the contents of her stomach. 

“Th-thanks,” she stammered. She passed it back when done, irritated that her travelling dress lacked pockets. She cupped her full chest, adjusted her large breasts within their support.

“Honey, how many times have I told you that-”

“They’re sore, my love! Very sore! All this bumpy road has them bouncing up and down. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you noticing!”

“Well, you were wearing a rather unbuttoned blouse in the carriage.”

“Much better than a dress! Gods, what an arrival!”

“We can camp out here, spend another day before arriving in the city.”

But Madeline held up a hand. “No way. For once, I actually feel like a noblewoman returning home: lustful for a good bath and a solid clean with servants! Ha! I sound just like you once did, as Astrid.”

Alston folded his arms. “Well, as much as I’ve gotten better at living in the rugged wild, I find I cannot disagree. Besides, I’d love to see you all cleaned up and in the latest Vortesian fashion.”

“I’ll bet you would. I’m guessing the low cut dress is back among the high nobility?”

“Those that can pull it off, certainly. And you, my dear, can certainly pull it off.”

He held her, kissing her cheek. “We can do this. I know we can.”

Madeline sighed. “I’m allowed to be a little nervous. I’ll stick out like a sore thumb as a lady of the court.”

“No more than I as a rather unpractised knight. But we’ll talk to Kathorn and my father, of course, and then the King.”

“Gods, even the King?”

“We’ll need him to transfer titles and avoid everyone knowing.”

Madeline sighed yet again, this time more deeply. Alston didn’t mind the way her chest rose and fell from the effort.

“You’re right, of course. Fine, let’s get it done! Oh, and we’ll see that maidservant of yours! She has good remedies for sickness, I’m sure.”

“Jenna? I have no doubt she will. Besides, she’ll have a good laugh seeing the pair of us!”

Madeline snorted. “Indeed. What a pair we make now!”

***

What followed after entering the mighty city of Vortis was a whirlwind series of meetings, secret gatherings, and signing of writs, all while finding time to relax and become accustomed to the comforts and bustling nature of city life once more. Naturally, Alston’s father was desperate to see his ‘daughter,’ but the first step had to be to see Kathron. The talented wizard was buzzing with excitement to meet them, and after sending a sealed letter his way with the seal of the Levian house upon it, word quickly came back to them. A good thing too: the pair were eager to retreat to their city estate; they had coin enough to have themselves cleaned and taken care of, but some time to settle down was what they needed. Still, they answered the call quickly, stopping only briefly to have some lunch at a market thermopolia.

“Be careful,” Alston said with a smirk as his wife wolfed down the rich lamb stew. “You keep eating like you have and it won’t be just your bosom that keep bursting through those tight dresses.”

“Sorry,” she said, a bit embarrassed. “My stomach is growling constantly like a dragon unto itself. I swear, it’s like I’m only just realising how malnourished I am.”

Alston smirked. “Well, you’re outdoing even my appetite. It’s good to see you in better spirits, my life. It’s a radiant sight, though I think a few men are starting to notice the beauty in their midst as well.”

Madeline looked around and frowned. There were indeed quite a few men looking her way, and a few others winking and smirking. It was a warm day, so it wasn’t like she could obscure her curves nor hide her exquisite beauty from them. Even her cut had healed remarkably, leaving only a small scar. She was proud of it, but it wasn’t exactly turning eyes away from her; one man was grinning at her, lust in her eyes. The new woman placed her hand on her partner’s thigh beneath the table.

“Please snap that man like old waxwork if he says anything to me.”

“You have my word, my love. You know, it’s very strange to be at one of these. I know you grew up with these fast serving little public food places, but it’s seen as lower class for the nobility, and a woman of rank would never be caught dead here.”

Madeline bit her lip, trying to hold back from snapping at a group of teenage boys who were pointing in her direction from behind her. One was gesturing, indicating that perhaps, from their perspective, her rear was rather well outlined.

“I’m starting to see why,” she said. “Okay, that’s enough stew.”

“You ate it all!”

“That’s why it’s enough.” She burped loudly, and grinned at the disgusted Alston. 

“What? I’m not a full lady until we get my new status confirmed. That’ll be up to Kathorn!”

She sauntered back to their carriage, Alston following after, falling into a naturally protective mode. Gods, what a sight his wife was, and heads were turning in her direction. She would need to develop a sense of personal safety quickly; he doubted he could always be there with her!

***

“Fascinating! Simply fascinating!” Kathorn exclaimed. He was looking over them both, pinching muscles and even cupping Madeline’s left breast.

“Hey!” Madeline screeched, batting his hand away in an accidentally quite ladylike manner. “Give me a warning next time, wizard!”

“Apologies, of course. Ah, but they are indeed most real. The changes are complete: I can sense the well of deep magic within you, far beyond even my capabilities. You are indeed Astrid and Marcus reborn and remade, now as Alston and Madeline.”

The pair stood within the wizard’s tower chamber, both of them wearing less than they would like in front of the mage. He had insisted on inspecting their bodies to see the way in which the magic had sculpted them. As such, Madeline was awkwardly trying to cover her voluptuous form (and failing rather badly) due to being only in her scarce undergarments, while Alston was only in a pair of trunks, his rippling muscles on display. Madeline didn’t mind that so much, though Alston certainly wasn’t used to being so bereft of clothing: even now, he kept raising his powerful forearms to cover a pair of breasts he no longer displayed.

“Please, don’t be so concerned with matters of flesh,” the wizard said off-handedly. “It is the magic that concerns me, not however nubile or virile your forms may be, though they are that, this is certain. Were such peak physical forms necessary for procreative purposes, I wonder?”

They told him again the story of the ancient well, illuminating him as to its reality. The wizard was excited to hear it again, and in further detail too, and continued to ask pointed questions regarding its magic, whether it was innate or druidic or ethereal, terms neither truly understood. Still, he was able to form some conclusions.

“Fantasised ideals conjured from your own minds, fascinating. I can imagine it has been a little . . . awkward for you both.” Despite the wizard’s clear lack of interest in men or women, even he had to dart his gaze briefly to Madeline’s quite tremendous pair of breasts, which were straining her upper garment a little. It frustrated her: it had fit so well only a week ago, surely they weren’t growing yet again? It was enough to make her nipples sore again, and she struggled not to touch them.

“More than a little awkward,” the former male said, coughing a little to remind the wizard exactly where her eyes were. “But we are making do. Obviously we plan to turn back, but it seems the magic is fixed until we, well, procreate.”

The wizard paused, then his eyes widened behind his smart, horn-rimmed glasses.

“Oh. Oh! Indeed, that would make sense! Ancient magic often relies upon the fruition of its initial intent before it can ever be dispelled. And since Astrid could not conceive . . .”

“Madeline can,” Alston said, placing a hand on his wife’s shoulder. She threw him an awkward glance, and the former female was reminded of how petite and shorter her wife had become. Well, petite in most places.

“Precisely,” the wizard said. “This is going to be fascinating to study! Madeline could well become the first ever man to not only experience womanhood, but actually fall pregnant and give birth! Such an honour!”

“It doesn’t feel like it,” Madeline grunted. “Can we put our clothes back on? I’d rather not be reminded of just how female I am right now, especially when we discuss matters of the birthing bed.”

“Oh, yes, naturally! Sorry, please get redressed. May I at least publish part of your experiences for the private lib-”

“NO!” the pair shouted, clinging to one another.

“Yes, of course. Privacy, naturally, comes first in such matters. I shall, nonetheless, keep a record if you change your minds. And I shall confirm with the King immediately, as well as his chief advisors, of this situation. This way, you can maintain your status within the kingdom.”

Madeline looked down at her full chest, blocking any possible view of her feet.

“It won’t be the same status, though,” she murmured.

***

Jenna could hardly believe the news of what had happened to her former mistress and friend. She had stared, utterly gobsmacked, at the tall and valiant-looking man who claimed to be Lady Astrid returned and changed. The fiery-haired maiden with her cute freckled cheeks and pixie-like figure was now broad and well-muscled, with radiant blonde hair and bright blue eyes instead of the previous emerald, though in the right light Jenna could see those green flecks return, if only for a magical moment. The wizard’s letter had come accompanied by seals from Alston’s own father and further from the King; all documents that outlined that Lady Astrid would be Lord Alston for the time being. Jenna, as chief handmaiden to her lady, was expected to handle such documentation, and now doubt intended to read it to smooth over the coming transition. And yet still . . .

“Astrid, I still can’t believe it, mistress. Master? What do I even call you?”

Alston scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “Um, you may call me Alston, my good friend. I believe it’s in that pile of letters.”

“It - it is! But still! I can scarcely believe this!”

Alston laughed, and it was quite the belly rumble. “Trust me, I can scarcely believe it myself either! The meeting with my father was equal parts amusing and confronting.”

“Did he take it alright?”

“More than I liked, in fact! The man had always wanted a strapping son, so he was puffed up with pride. You’d think he’d never bounced me on his lap as a girl but instead taken me hunting on rites of manhood as a child.”

Jenna nodded, still confounded by it all. “It must be so different.”

“It is. I’m all hairy now, and having a - well, a thing between my legs is quite the strange experience.”

Jenna burst out laughing, losing her composure. “I should imagine so! At least you are most handsome!”

“And you are simply glowing! May I please feel?”

Jenna nodded. Alston lowered himself a little, feeling her best friend and faithful servant’s belly. It had swelled considerably, having been just early days when Jenna left. Now, six months had passed, and the woman was full with child. Her gorgeous olive skin was without blemish, and she beamed with pride as a little kick rippled across her belly.

“There he is.”

“A son? How do you know?”

“Mother’s intuition, Astrid - Alston. Trust me.”

Alston’s face became briefly crestfallen, and Jenna realised her mistake. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean - you must be so upset at how this all turned out.”

“No, it’s okay. But . . . given the nature of things, it might be better if you help out Madeline instead. Marcus’ new name. She will need a handmaiden far more than I do while I’m stuck as a man.”

“Of course. How long will that be for?”

Alston gave a sheepish grin. “Well, until she bares us a child.”

Jenna squeaked. “This is all so much! I suppose I better see her. Where is she?”

Alston grinned, cupped his hand to his cheek, and called out behind him. “Okay, my love, time to face the music. Jenna wants to see you.”

There was a deep, characteristic sigh, and a gorgeous woman emerged wearing a blue dress that flowed down to her feet. She was utterly beautiful, her raven-black hair thick, her pale blue eyes piercing, revealing part of a warrior’s spirit, even though the rest of her face was femininity incarnate. Her figure, despite being covered up, could not entirely be hidden; Jenna’s eyes widened as she realised how curvaceous this woman’s figure was.

“Good sir,” she stammered.

“Good lady now,” Madeline said. “Hello Jenna. Congratulations on the child to come. It seems you’ll be my handmaiden from now on?”

“Yes, my - my lady. I shall do my best to get you up to speed on all matters of maintaining yourself, and aid in all ways that I can, at least until my child comes. And, of course, when you fall pregnant-”

Madeline put up a hand. It made Jenna and Alston both cringe; the manner in which she did so was not exactly ladylike.

“Let’s not talk about that part now, thank you very much. Right now, all I want to do is find a good bed and sleep for three days in it.”

Jenna and Alston exchanged a glance.

“What? Is something humorous? Alston, you always did snicker with Jenna here.”

“Oh, it’s nothing, my love. It’s just, that’s a very me thing to do. You were always much more on the go, as my valiant knight.”

But Madeline just clutched her head. “Trust me, I’m more than aware. I just feel so tired. It’s this weak female body, no offence, Jenna.”

“None taken, my lord. Er, my mistress. But you would be surprised what a weak body can do; a woman has a power of her own. Let me take you to your chambers and help you into your sleepwear. I’ll ready your bed as well.”

“I don’t need . . . actually, that does sound nice. Gods, I’m tired. And I need to sleep. Only I can’t sleep on my stomach anymore. Don’t giggle, either of you!”

But it was too late: they were both snickering just like old times, Alston’s new gender no barrier to old friendships.

***

When Madeline found out that she was not only pregnant, but was at least eight weeks along, she nearly combusted on the spot.

“No. It can’t be. There must be some mistake. I simply can’t be with child.”

The apothecary was an older woman named Sara. She had a kindly, patient manner, though was also humorously direct, and it was very clear that this was not her first time breaking or confirming this news to a young woman. 

“My dear, I have been diagnosing pregnancy in women for over forty years of my life now, and I follow in the footsteps of my mother, her mother, and even her mother before her. I know the ins and outs of pregnancy, and have borne three children myself. I have delivered babies, helped infants struggling to suckle, aided nursing mothers, and helped save and end pregnancies where the mother’s life was in dire straits. I know all about what it is for a woman to become with child, so believe me when I tell you this: you are with child. At least eight weeks, I’d say, possibly nine, to judge from the slight tautness in your belly.”

She extended a hand out and quickly rubbed Madeline’s stomach before retracting it.

“But . . . we only . . . just a few times!”

“Once is all it takes, dearie,” Sara said, holding up a wrinkled finger. “Particularly with a strapping lad such as that!”

She gestured to Alston, who smiled nervously before placing his hand on his wife’s shoulder to comfort her. The apothecary’s backroom was small and the walls lined with all sorts of odds and ends, trinkets and tomes. Many of them, to judge from the hastily scrawled labels, were to do with aiding women’s issues, including matters of fertility and fecundity. The air seemed chill to the pair, though perhaps it was the sheer awkwardness of what was being confirmed.

“Well, there were a few times,” Alston admitted. “And we were . . . told, by a, er, respectable source, that we would likely be quite virile and fertile.”

The woman cackled. “Don’t place your faith in omens, though I suppose if I were, that omen wouldn’t be too unbelievable. Madeline here has a body made for making babies. They’ll feed well enough, that’s for sure.”

The anxious former male wasn’t sure she could blush any harder.

“But how can you know for sure? It might not be! I haven’t had a period - it’s quite late, so-”

“So that’s a sign, dearie, and a strong one. Listen, you’re late to your bleeding. Your breasts are so bloated, and your nipples have darkened some, and even grown a little too. You’re feeling tired, exhausted even, and you’re getting the nausea that leads to sickness, often but not always after breakfast in particular. I must ask, have you been feeling emotional as of late?”

Alston coughed. “She has been crying a little recently. In response to unexpected things. Like when I ate part of her meal I didn’t think she would finish.”

“I was hungry!”

“And when we finally went into the public again and saw that play.”

“It was deeply sad!”

“It was a comedy.”

Madeline gave a petulant ‘harrumph’, folding her arms beneath her chest in a way that seemed almost princess-like. 

“Fine! Fine! I have all the symptoms.” 

She did, and this was actually what had finally made Alston realise that something was up, though it was Jenna who discovered the truth sooner. The woman was growing with child, and knew all the signs in a way that Astrid had often dreamed of but never got to experience as a woman, and so she was more alert to them. And while the loving pair slept together and often took comfort from one another, it was Jenna who now bathed Madeline, prepared her clothing, who noticed the subtle changes and dealt with the morning nausea while Alston was now taking up a lord’s business. The handmaiden had asked several subtle questions, then discussed the matter privately with Alston, who felt like such an idiot when it was all laid out before him. Madeline had been gently encouraged to go see an apothecary nearby, specifically one who specialised in such matters.

Now, the inevitable yet frightfully too soon was occurring: a child was growing within a womb she had never meant to possess, her belly already slightly domed - just slightly - and going through the early struggles of pregnancy. It was almost impossible to take in.

“You do indeed, dearie,” Sara said. “I’m going to find a number of ointments, lotions, and remedies for you. They’ll help dim the nausea and aid the tiredness, as well as keep that noble skin glowing as you advance in pregnancy. Most of all, they’ll help your little one flourish and grow too. I’ll be right back.”

She left the pair, perhaps quite deliberately, to their privacy. In the shocked silence that followed, Madeline lowered a hand to her stomach and swallowed.

You were right, my love. I imagine you’ll be quite smug about that.”

Alston lowered a hand also to his wife’s stomach, placing it lovingly over her own.

“Smug, my love? Always. But happy?”

He raised the hand and cupped his wife’s chin, raising her face to take in his.

“I know this is hard, and we don’t feel quite ready yet. But . . . I feel more happy than I could imagine. And I know you will too.”

Tears formed in the corners of Madeline’s eyes, and this time she didn’t fight them.

“Do you really think so?” she said, still feeling her belly. 

“My love, think of it this way: it’s finally happening. After so many struggles, we’re finally having a baby.”

Madeline paused, looked down, and took in her husband’s phrasing. Slowly, a bewildered smile crept across her features.

“We’re finally having a baby,” she repeated.

She laughed, tears still in her eyes, her chest anxious but her heart warmed. She kissed her husband and clung to him.

“We’re finally having a baby,” she said again.

To Be Continued . . .