Birth of the Twins
waited until she heard the door snick shut behind her, waited a breath
longer, and then Ghet screamed, letting the pain flow out around her.
Straight away, it was easier to cope with. This time, though… this time
was going to be like with Aarien. Too fast.
she got her breath back, she pushed herself, making it to the bedroom before
the next contraction hit. With the fear that came from knowledge, she forced
herself to stay in the moment, not to think about what might be to come.
Scream, breathe, rock, let it pass. Turning, she groaned. The bathroom
looked to be a marathon away. She had to get to the pool, she had to…
The warmth of a hand at
the base of her spine was steadying, a wash of Aethyr easing the agony in
tensed muscles. “It’s alright Ghettie,” Ro’s gravely baritone
murmured into her ear, “I’m here, let’s get you into the water.” A
heavily muscled arm swept in behind her knees, lifting the gravid redhead
from her feet as if she weighed no more than a feather. Emerald jewels were
soft with love and a quiet, insistent worry, and beyond that was a sparkling
joy. This was their moment, their children, their life together.
The half-elf’s long
strides ate up the distance to the bathing room his smile reassuring as he
took the first step into the pool, unheeding of the fact that he was still
wearing trousers. The boots and doublet had gone flying on the run to their
chambers, the last of which had caught Ja’Kel straight in the face as the
King had darted past him at the double doors.
Ghet's body sagged into
his arms, relaxing as much as she could. Being carried was uncomfortable,
but it was better than walking, and having his warmth and strength with her
made it all easier. She gave a grateful moan as warm water closed around
her, supporting her weight, easing the deep, S'Hean drive to get to the
pool. Smiling, she helped him get her dress off. "You and pants in the
bath. Least this time you didn't fall..." She bit her lip as pain
twisted at her body again, then she did what she should have done before.
She opened her soul and gave the pain to him to share, a partnership that
made this something they would do together, as equals. It was more than
twice as easy, being able to share something as intimate as agony.
She laughed when the
contraction gave her her breath back, more than a little hysterical.
"Somehow, I don't think they're going to make you wait as long as Rhagi
did. Nothing like."
“Well you know, there
was a time when I had to wear pants in your presence simply to keep
everything strapped down. Still do… really, but they are terribly
uncomfortable in the bath. Aire Rilme!” The S’Hean had managed to lose
his pants just after her dress came off, and the pain left him a little
breathless for a moment.
“They do seem to
be in a terrible hurry… but then, I’m always a little quicker on my feet
when I know there is a nice big breast waiting for me too.” The half-elf
grinned shamelessly at his wife and settled into the water, melding into the
connection between their souls and opening himself up to all she had to give
as loving fingers stroked her skin with crackling Aethyr. His eyes lit with
the pleasure of it, not just from the symbiotic pain, but having her soul so
closely mingled with his, and sharing something so precious… finally.
“Now, which hand would
you like to break? Any preferences?”
Ghet laughed helplessly,
tears on her face. Honesty was precious, and it always seemed to come to
this, an inextricable mess of laughter and tears, pain and joy. "So
that's what it was. You have no idea... ah... how much I wish I'd known
that." She leaned forward heavily on his shoulder, fingers digging into
his skin as she screamed, feeling her body shift. "I'm pretty
sure," she muttered, sucking in air, "that this process is
supposed to put you off, at least for a little while. If nothing else,
you're getting knocked down the Breast Queue."
You could tell it was bad
when Ghet was forced to stop talking, her attention turning inwards. The
fear came flooding back, undeniable when she could actually feel her body
pushed to its limits. Soon, she was going to have to push. "Ro..."
Her gaze was an odd mixture, pain and tenderness and desperation. "I
love you. So much."
“Nothing puts me off,
I’m unique that way,” he answered cheerily, arms going around his wife
to lend support as he gave her a look of mock horror. “Good gods, that
hadn’t occurred to me. Two children… no breast left for me.” He sighed
in exaggerated disappointment. “Somehow it seemed an impossibility
given… you know.”
Right along with her, his
mood and expression changed, utterly defenceless in the presence of Ghet’s
bottomless capacity for emotion. She had been the first to truly touch the
part of him capable of it, as if she had reached right inside and wrapped
her hands around his spine, and her ability to trigger passion, love, anger
and joy had never, ever faded. Not even when they had been at odds, and it
was how he knew that he truly, unfailingly loved her.
“I love you too
Ghettie,” he said softly, “and you are going to be just fine. You have
to be, because if the Fates even think about taking you from me now, after
all we have been through to get here, I will personally kick their asses and
shred their loom.” His soul tightened its hold, strands twining and
looping, pulling the column of flame as close as he dared in open defiance,
she was his, and he would not ever let go.
A giggle got stuck in
Ghet's throat, probably having trouble getting past the lump. She knew her
husband very well, he was strong and utterly determined, and if he said he
wasn't going to let her go, then nothing could drag her away. Not even
Tears smeared across his
shoulder as her body locked up in agony. It seemed Y'Roden wasn't the only
utterly determined D'Riel in the room. She let out an unholy roar right next
to his ear as instinct forced her to bear down hard, pushing the first of
their children towards the light. "Holy crap! This better skagging well
be the big one!"
Fairly sure he was deaf
on one side now, Ro none the less choked on a laugh when his wife turned to
Aerdon Black profanity. It was hard to tell why he was so amused, and
probably best not to question. He was a little busy by that point anyway,
verifying that yes, yes indeed, it was the big one. Baby that is.
“There’s his head!”
he announced, though the verification was more through the soul than visual
contact. “One more good push Ghettie, then you can take out my other ear
when the next one comes.”
The look on Ghet's face
was savage, though it was determination not anger. "Good move. Remind
me I'm only halfway through. There are lots of things you have two of
besides ears, boy." At that point, she degenerated into a strangled
flood of multilingual profanity, ranging unconsciously through all her
favourite swearing languages. It was a remarkably effective way of dealing
with the sharp, tearing pain that flowed through both of them for the final
“Just remember that you
love me… and those,” her husband said in the process of fishing
their son out of the water. The newborn squall may have saved him from
certain mutilation. “Dagar, R’Avyen,” he greeted his heir, large hands
gently wiping blood and water away from the baby’s face. “Welcome to the
world.” He shifted in the water, bringing the boy towards Ghet in the lull
between births. “Say hello to your Ammah.” He wasn’t about to tell her
that where the pain ended up for him in the sharing, was punishment
enough… thank you.
Ghet sagged back, her
weight falling against the side of the pool, blessed in the brief respite
from pain. It was possible they'd just found out what it took to make her
incapable of feeling sympathy for Y'Roden. "Eh, I'm full of empty
threats during birthing. I think last time I vowed I was never having sex
with you again. And we know how well that went."
Eyes soft, she reached
out for her son, gathering the tiny newborn to her chest. One hand slid over
his body, checking his limbs, spine, skull, something in her soul held tight
in reserve until she was sure he was normal. Then she smiled down into his
eyes, her heart expanding to accommodate yet another profound love.
"He's beautiful. Takes after his father."
Still smiling, she lifted
her face to her husband and kissed him, blissful. Then she winced, her body
not prepared to let them rest any longer. "Ah feck... whose stupid idea
Ro wisely opted not to
answer that one, covering over by kissing Ghet back and gently taking their
son from her arms. “He is beautiful,” he agreed, "but I’d like to
think that is your fault.” Murmuring away to the child he settled him into
a bassinette at the side of the bath, then turned back to his wife, well
prepared for round two. “Now, let’s meet baby number two… have we
thought of a name yet?” Distraction, at times, was the best course of
action; it was either that or let her gnaw on his hand for a while.
Leaning forward again on
Y'Roden, Ghet fought for breath, pushing her exhausted body further.
"Please, our children look nothing like me." Her voice tailed off
in effort: the second child might be smaller, but her flesh was torn and
bruised and she was running out of strength. "Thought about it... first
this time..." Giving in, she gave up trying to speak aloud. This way,
too, she could give her husband all the emotion that went with her choice of
name for their youngest: her intense but simple joy in finding S'Hea her
home, the sound and scent and texture of the nights whose richness and
sensuality suited her so well. "Den'Ayat."
Then even that
concentration was lost in exhausted tears and overwhelming pain, a
ground-out yell of effort as she forced herself to push again, driving their
last child into the world.
The choice of names left
Y’Roden quietly smiling; it was, as per usual, a perfect choice, just as
Rhagi had been for their eldest son. Peaceful Night… something they were
not going to experience for a while now that they had twins.
His unwavering strength
bolstered Ghet as their youngest son made his entrance, and when the
half-elf brought the baby to the surface, he looked impossibly small in his
father’s hands. Ro’s expression was a mix of bewilderment and curiosity
for a moment, fingers gently rinsing the boy and checking him over, until
something caught his attention.
word was filled with quiet wonder, “we have a son that looks like his
mother… my Gods Ghet… he has your eyes. Dagar, Den’Ayat.”
Despite the child’s diminutive size, the S’Hean’s features were filled
with warmth and what appeared to be excitement as he turned to place their
son in his wife’s arms. “He’s perfect.”
The look on Y'Roden's
face was pretty damn perfect to Ghet. Uncomplicated joy had been such a rare
thing for them. She gathered the tiny child to her, overwhelmed by his
seeming fragility. "Oh gods..." Her son blinked up at her
myopically with massive clear blue white-streaked eyes, and she burst into
tears. As popular as her more obvious features were, she'd always liked her
eyes best, and she'd pretty much given up any hope of ever seeing any of her
own genes in her children. She adored D'Riel green, but this was... more
than she could deal with. Once she started crying she couldn't stop,
exhausted and aching, and with far more relief and joy than she could
was a smile that Ro couldn’t stop, a combination of his wife’s joy and
his own washing through his soul in a near overwhelming wave. He fairly
vibrated with it and it took the usually still S’Hean a moment to cope.
Kissing away tears and touching softly with healing Aethyr that mended torn
flesh, but could only take the edge off of exhaustion, his entire focus was
where it should have been, on Ghet and their sons.