Chapter Text
Anyone who knew Ikora Rey, by reputation alone if not personally, knew that she was not the kind of woman to settle down.
She was a woman of action, independent, ruthless and aloof; the undisputed queen of the Crucible (even if she did claim she was retired now), always looking to stay one step ahead of everybody else. She never acted without reason, and when she acted, it was always swift and with purpose. And, though she preferred the contemplative atmosphere of libraries as much as any other Warlock, her true home was the wilds, to the point Cayde had once asked her - jokingly - if she was secretly a Hunter in disguise, that maybe the Traveler had resurrected her wrong.
(Sometimes, Ikora had wondered about that, herself. Then Kepler had happened, and then she wondered how much the Nine had influenced the power she wielded. Was her wanderlust, curiosity and drive to be the best just part of her nature, or because the Nine needed her to be that way? Did they make it her fate to be a fifth-Sigma Guardian, or was it always her destiny because she had driven herself towards it? Or perhaps, did some part of Dr. Nella Davis still linger within her, brought forward to her current self?)
Lodi hadn’t worked with Ikora for very long, at least not in this life, but he knew her better than anyone. And he knew, deep down, that whatever they said about her being unable to settle down, about being independent, ruthless, aloof and unable to be tamed, they were all wrong.
(Well, mostly. She was some of those things. But that wasn’t such a bad thing. Indeed, it was why he loved her.)
But how could he know such things with such confidence, having known her for so little time?
The answer was quite simple: because Lodi currently held her in his arms as they sat together in her apartment, watching some cheesy action movie together while she scrolled through reports on the datapad balanced precariously on her swollen midsection. Her head was resting on his shoulder, and he had the side of his head tilted so it rested on top of hers; a softer, more vulnerable side to her that only he had ever had the humble privilege of witnessing.
A side to Ikora only made possible because, by some miracle, she was carrying his child. A child she was only days away from giving birth to, something neither of them could quite believe.
“Do you ever stop working?” he asked her, voice too fond to be an actual complaint as he splayed his fingers across her gravid swell, gently nudging the tablet away. “I thought you were letting Mr. Osiris and Ms. Yong handle things now that you are too far along?”
Ikora chuckled at him. She couldn't help herself; the polite way he referred to others less familiar to him amused her at times, mainly for the amount of times she had told him it wasn’t necessary. But, she could not fault Lodi for old habits; after all, what was she indulging in herself right now?
“I can’t help myself,” she admitted softly to him, peeling her eyes away from the streams of data just long enough to lift her chin up to kiss him on the lips. “I don't like being sidelined, even if I agreed to and instigated it.”
Lodi returned her kiss with one of his own. “I get it. You don’t like staying still.”
“I can be still. I meditate from time to time,” Ikora countered. “I just don’t like being-” She gestured to herself, all encompassing.
“Beautifully, gorgeously pregnant?” He smiled at her, that dopey, lovestruck grin that she had grown fond of, and she wanted to affectionately punch him for the comment.
She settled, wisely, for his shoulder, even if it did nothing to wipe that smile off his face. “I was going to say helpless. Vulnerable.” She wasn’t normally insecure about her body, but her heightened hormones had her slightly anxious. “You think I’m beautiful? Even like this?”
“Especially like this.” Lodi bent his head down to kiss her on the peak of her heavy abdomen to emphasise his point. “Not that you weren’t before all this. You have always been beautiful to me.”
“You think so? Most people find me scary.”
“Most people don’t know the real you. And nobody knows you the way I do.”
“Well,” Ikora ruffled his hair affectionately, “you have known me for two lifetimes now.”
“Exactly. So trust me when I say you are beautiful, Ikora. And you know what? Our baby will be, too.”
He pressed another kiss to her midsection, before putting an ear there, listening. When their child tucked away in her womb startled him with a kick, the laughter that came from Ikora's mouth was the purest thing Lodi had ever heard.