“What are you doing?” Ra’s’ voice rumbles from behind you, and you turn your head aside to find him observing you with a slight furrow of his brow. You had hoped he would be gone a little longer, taking a moment to explore the tranquillity of the gardens alone, but alas, nothing seemed to slip by the Demon’s Head. You go to stand, and it only takes a slither of struggling before he’s by your side. His hand clasps yours, warm and supportive, and he guides you onto your feet by himself. His fingers entangle yours, affectionate and possessive.

“I thought I ordered you to stay put,” he frowns, raising your hand to his lips and kissing your knuckles softly. “You should be resting, not wandering in the gardens without any supervision.”

Ra’s had posted assassins outside of their bed chambers, and felt a slither of irritation his authority had been undermined in favour of letting you wander alone, when anything may happen. He needed somebody to have a careful eye on you anytime he wasn’t there to look after you, not when the pregnancy was so far along already. Ra’s would be damned if anything happened to you like this. He gently tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, wordlessly admiring how beautiful you looked like this. His beloved, his wife, his everything. His expression softens.

“These gardens are polluted with pollen, my beloved,” he murmurs, kissing your palm tenderly, like he ached for it. “You are susceptible to a fever if you remain out here. You need to be inside, where you can rest.”

Carrying his heir meant it was Ra’s’ duty to look after you, and he had never dared to let you raise a finger. He would bend and break tending to you before you so much as broke a single sweat. Unclipping his cloak, Ra’s draped it over your shoulders in one fluid movement, his priority being to make sure you were warm and comfortable.

“Back to bed,” he informed, leaving no room for argument. He had already ordered his assassins to prepare you a plate of fresh melons. “Have you been timing your contractions?"