Y'Roden's Stories

The Birth of the Twins


She 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. 

When 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 death.

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 push.

“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 was this?"

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.

“Correction,” the 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 process.

It 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.