Story 📜 The Queen's Heir - Part I

C: Original, pregnancy, fantasy
Planned: accelerated pregnancy, pregnancy potions, wlw, stuffing, sounds, weight gain, belly movements, sexual awakening, birth, slight corruption, NS4W

Patreon Requested & Pollwinner

Story written by RoseVirage

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The Queen's Heir - Part I

“It’s settled, then,” Koriander said in a smug tone, “you go fetch your so-called ‘secret sister’s’ child, from Brunnhaven or whatever this patch of land is supposed to be called, and we don’t have to go through all the pain of choosing a new ruler.”

The look on his and all the other council members' faces and their tone was clear: they didn’t mind a new election at all. They didn’t believe Princess—now Queen—Onwrin had an unknown secret sister, let alone a nephew or niece. They probably didn’t even believe in Brunnhaven’s existence to begin with. 

As much as Onwrin hated these power-hungry men, she couldn’t blame them; because they were eventually right. There was, in fact, no sister, no child, not even a Brunnhaven. But Onwrin had needed time to think of a plan, even if it was a cheap and desperate method to get it.

The council had tried to form her to their will since she could think. Eventually, though, they never managed to get a true grasp of her. And after the late king—Onwrin's father—had died a couple of weeks ago, it had only been a matter of time till they found a way to put one of their own on the throne. Even if it meant scratching out one of the deepest corners of the most ancient rulebooks: that every queen would need a male heir in order to rule without a king. That queens could only alone on the throne for no more than one season. Ridiculous. 

Finding a baby orphan wouldn’t be a problem, Onwrin thought while walking quickly into her room. But the royal family’s bloodline was… peculiar. So finding one with her shade of skin and the telltale sun-kissed eyes, an amber-colored iris turning gold in sunlight? That was unheard of. “An alchemist, maybe...” Onwrin mumbled to herself nervously as she entered her closed-off space, “An herbalist? Are there ways to change eye color through herbs? Or maybe... maybe...”

“A witch?" a sultry voice echoed from the corner of the room.

Onwrin gasped and turned around to see a fragile-looking woman step out of the shadow, bringing a strong, musky but also flowery scent with her. Her skin was as white as a sheet, her gray dress simple and worn, but drenched in spruce of all kinds: gold, silver, wood, bones. Her long black hair was unkempt. She looked like a ghost, though nothing of her ghastly conglomerate appearance could overshadow her crisp, unmoved face of otherworldly beauty. 

“How did you get here? Explain yourself!” Onwrin called out, her voice not yet that of an unshaken, imperious queen but still that of an overwhelmed princess. 

The hint of a smile brushed over the face of the stranger. She came closer, showing more of her unusual gestalt. She was without curves, with no bosom at all. If it wasn’t for her face or long hair, it would’ve been hard to tell whether she was man, woman or youngster. 

“I cannot shift the precious gems of a human face,” she murmured, her voice almost as deep as that of a chap, and with ancient allure, as if the very air itself whispered the words she formed. “However, I possess the might to grant my queen her wish in other ways.”

Onwrin took a step back but, at the same time, felt like stepping closer. Something about this woman called out and spoke to parts of her that had never listened to anything before.

"What... what do you mean by that?”

Within the blink of an eye, the stranger stood right next to her, whispering in her ear while brushing through her hair. “You will see. Head out to ‘Brunnhaven’ in the morning. Bring a loyal maid with sealed mouth. Tell those vermin to expect you back in a moon. Instruct the carter to drive you to Hell Oak in Minstal Forest. This will be the only chance I offer. Let your heart choose, not your mind.”

And with that, her whispers vanished, together with her, leaving Onwrin alone with a pounding heart and a stifling mass of feelings and thoughts.

---

What am I doing?, Onwrin thought as the carriage came closer to the unnaturally tall, ancient-looking, dead oak the stranger had talked about. Her behavior went against all of her morals and logic. She knew it was dangerous. She knew she did something incredibly unsafe. But at the same time… she couldn’t help it. Part of her was certain that if she did not follow this otherworldly woman’s call, she would not only regret it but also be haunted by her for the rest of her life. In either one form or another: thoughts, fear. Dreams, maybe. Or even in reality.

It was desperate times, too, and as much as she hated it, this was her only lead. And given the power the stranger had portrayed in her room, it was clear that she at least had the means to help the queen out.

Onwrin looked to her right at Natascha, her most trusted maid. She wasn’t mute in the literal sense, but Onwrin knew she would take secrets to her grave, which was most likely what the stranger meant. As always, Natascha had lowered her gaze and kept her hands neatly folded on her lap, waiting to be needed or addressed. Despite not talking much, Onwrin felt comfort in her presence.

The carriage finally stopped, though the driver didn’t announce any destination, nor open the door. After calling out unanswered, Onwrin opened it herself, just to see that both driver and horses had disappeared, leaving the queen and the maid alone at the clearing.

Once more, she felt her heart thumping more rapidly. Not only because of fear, but she also because she sensed the odd woman's presence.

And then she spotted her visually, too; standing beside the dead tree, still, staring back at the queen with dark eyes, as Onwrin stood in the carriage's doorway, her fingers still on the door handle. She felt like a deer that had just glimpsed a wolf. Except... except there was something else, too. Curiosity. Need.

“Good. You came,” the woman said, her voice silent but still crisp even given the distance. Then she added in a mysterious tone, "I was hoping you would. Follow.”

---

The stranger guided Onwrin and her maid through the forest for a good while, only stopping when they eventually reached a house. Not a measly hut, but a well-built building—albeit in a unique, rustic style, strangely out of place in between old trees, without any road leading to it and surrounded by massive roots reaching out of the soil like tentacles, making Onwrin wonder how the building materials had been transported here. It must’ve been all by hand—or a very long time ago, before there was a forest. 

They stepped inside, where the rooms were filled over and over with trinkets both with and without purpose, traversed extramundane-looking rooms, then walked down deep stairs into a room that was roughly carved into stone, almost cave-like. Though this place was less maximalistic than the other rooms and furnished quite tastefully, with beautifully woven carpets covering all of the stone floor, a canopy bed, a big table, a filled bookshelf, and an inviting sofa covered in furs. A fireplace and several candles were already lit and gave it a very inviting, cozy finishing touch. 

“Sit,” the stranger commanded, and by looking at her, Onwrin realized that this room didn’t quite fit the disheveled-looking person, at least not as perfectly as the overfilled, disorganized rest of the house. It was as if this place wasn’t built for the woman, but for Onwrin.

The queen followed the order, with her heart’s pounding quickening again, and sat on the sofa.
As she did, she could’ve sworn she had seen the woman smiling again for a brief moment for an unknown reason. It felt a little off-putting, but it also… excited her.

Natascha didn’t move and continued to wait next to the stairs; she was sensitive enough to understand that she hadn’t been addressed and had no place in their dialogue.

“Good. Now. Look upon here,” the strange host said, her hand roughly pointing towards the table, where Onwrin saw 5 bottles arrayed. They all were strangely shaped, as if they had partially melted during a fire, or had been blown by an unskilled mouth. But the content seemed to be the same in all of them. A dark red liquid, looking like viscous blood.

"Your resolution. The first to sow, then three to grow, the last to reap.”

“You… you really like talking like this, huh…?” Onwrin commented, “Ambiguous, in riddles?”

The woman didn’t answer. She did, in fact, not react at all. But Onwrin could swore that she noticed some sort of amusement.

“I… forgive me, but I can’t follow. Would it be alright if you explained it to me in a way I can understand? And to introduce yourself? I would very much like to know who I am talking to.”

Again, her opponent didn’t answer, but she grinned. This time, for real. It looked haunting, eerie, and alluring. Then, she said, “You aren’t as frightened as others. How interesting.”

“Please, answer my question. I demand it. You cannot expect me to blindly follow -”

“Oh, but you will,” the woman interrupted, “because you have no choice, have you? Even though you are my queen, you cannot demand, for I am not your peasant. You are a blink of the eye in a life you cannot fathom, a dust particle in the history of my kind. I share part of my magic with you, and you have the free will to take it or leave it. But never to demand, child.”

Onwrin’s hand had clasped into her dress. The woman’s—no, now it was clear was more than that, a witch at the very least—the witch’s voice felt like it was grabbing her and stroking her at the same time, like a beloved infant who didn’t know how to behave. Onwrin understood that none of her riches nor status would outweigh the power of whatever the person in front of her possessed. And that her words were true: all Onwrin could do was to accept. Or not.

She looked at Natascha, who had raised her head for the first time, looking at Onwrin in honest worry.

The queen looked back at the witch.

“I understand. I accept. I have no other solutions, and I have no future otherwise. I have nothing to lose.”

The woman came closer. “I knew you would understand.”

“But… please. Just a name to address you.”

“I do have many names, but none my own.”

Again, these cryptic words that didn’t answer anything. But Onwrin didn’t dare to ask a third time.

The witch looked at her for what felt like a small eternity, her gaze piercing through Onwrin as if she were transparent as glass. Then she added, “If you will need a name to hold on to in due time, call me mother.”

---

“So… what was it again… the first to plant…?” Onwrin whispered after the witch had walked up the stairs, leaving her and Natascha by themselves.

“The first to sow, then three to grow, the last to reap,” Natascha recited in a soft voice, her gaze lowered again, gently reminding Onwrin of her sharp mind. The very reason Onwrin had taken a liking to that maid.

“Right…” Onwrin said thoughtfully, “And to be careful not to take everything at once…”

“Oral consumption. And that Her Majesty can take them as swiftly as she wants, though to leave at least 20 draws of breaths between.”

The newly crowned queen sat on the chair in front of the bottles, looking at them skeptically. “Well then,” she noted, “this should be over rather quickly, then. I’m not quite sure why she advised me to announce my department for a whole moon.”

“Be careful, my queen,” Natascha noted silently, the word ‘queen’ still a bit foreign in her mouth. “Our host might have plans she didn’t share.”

“I agree, my dear. In fact, I am very sure about it. I heard legends about the mischievous nature of transcendental creatures like her, the old ones… being both kind and gruesome at the same time, tricking mortals as a pastime. But… I prefer finding my end by a divine woman in battle for the good of my nation than being at the mercy of ill-willed men, meekly allowing them to drain my people for power.”

Onwrin took the first twisted bottle and pulled out the leathery stopper.

She raised the bottle to Natascha as a toast.

“To whatever might come,” she said, “for I am grateful that you are with me.”

With that, she drank the potion in one go.

Hey guys, Rose here! Thank you for your patience with this story poll winner. I hit a rough writing block after the poll went up, and I knew to write this story in my style, it would be way longer than a usual shortstory, so I had thought a lot about how to approach without making too many parts again (that would be hard to finish). I didn't find a good solution, so I eventually thought that I should just start. With the result that it part 1 was super long and didn't even include the first potion yet. Uuurggh. I hope you can enjoy it anyway, and that the other parts will be a bit more quickly, because there's no worldbuilding and stuff involved.

I also wouldn't do another poll until I at least have a part II, I hope that's okay. Unless you guys aren't as interested in this story (anymore) and prefer to see something else, then I'd work on that!

Have a good one,

Rose