#desdra

Teldryn pulled the mammoth pelt tighter around them, the warmth seeming to bring at least a little color back to her pale cheeks. “Are you alright? Do we need to stop?”

“No, don’t stop.” she replied weakly. “We’ll never make it there if we stop.”

His lips tightened into a thin line. “We should have waited, Des. What if you get sick?”

“I don’t get sick…”

“You got sick this morning.”

She looked away, indignant expression on her face.

“And last night. And a few times the day before that…”

“I get it.” she snapped. “That wasn’t even the kind of sick you meant.”

He sighed and pulled her closer to him. “Either way. I’m worried…”

She nuzzled her forehead into the crook of his neck, her eyes squeezed shut. She’d never had the luxury of riding in a covered carriage before, and she had to admit, she didn’t like it. It was dark, closed in, and a freezing draft still reached her despite the thick hide covering the wooden frame. To top it all off, the benches were the most uncomfortable thing she had ever sat on and it felt like her back had an arrow lodged in it at the moment.

As if reading her mind, she felt Teldryn’s hand move to her lower back, heat instantly radiating from that point. Despite the mild pain his touch brought, the relaxing heat was too good to pass up. “Have you thought about a name yet?”

“Have you?”

He didn’t answer for a long time. “Dumaya.”

“Did you just make that up?”

“Yes.” He gave her a cheeky smile. “Your turn.”

She sighed and had to think, which proved difficult in her current circumstance. Her mind kept racing, unable to focus on anything. “Um… Kaalys?” She wasn’t sold on the name, but it was the first thing that came to mind.

“Isn’t that the name of Mankar Camoran’s mother…?”

“Shit. No, that’s. Bad, not that name…”

He brushed a rogue hair from her forehead. Unlike how she usually wore her hair, it was left unattended, a wild mess on her head, and there were plenty of strands sticking to her face which was wet with perspiration. “If you want to use it, we can. It is a lovely name.” his voice was gentle and soothing.

“No, no, that’s not good.” She sighed. “Do you have any boy names in mind?”

As he opened his mouth to speak, the carriage seemed to drop out from underneath the two of them, the sound of the horse’s dying screams piercing the frozen air. Unable to stop themselves, they slid all the way to the front of the cart, Teldryn barely keeping himself from slamming against her side. She hit harder than she had anticipated, pain spiking throughout much of her body at once, her hand clutching gently to the front of her swollen stomach.

“Are you okay?!” His voice was frantic, his eyes looking all over her at once as he checked for injuries.

She nodded weakly, hands reaching to him.

He quickly took her hand, reassuring her, before reluctantly letting her go and drawing his sword.

A fearful scream reached their ears, soon enough becoming a strangled cry, and then silence. They recognized the voice as belonging to their driver.

Before she could stop him, Teldryn pulled himself out of the carriage.

Her heart raced as she sat alone in the dark, small space of the wreckage. She could hear him fighting, but gradually the sounds were becoming fainter. He was moving away from the carriage. She understood why, but still the idea had her frightened. Ignoring her instincts, she tried to stand, but soon enough fell rather painfully back onto the rough wooden bench. She was stuck, and there was nothing she could do about it.

She pulled herself up off of the floor with more difficulty than she anticipated. The pregnancy had made her weak, made her vulnerable, and that too scared her. Unable to lower herself gently back onto the crooked bench, she fell backwards, her heart lurching for a brief moment before she felt the wood digging into her back and thighs.

As she tried to come up with a plan of escape, a recognizable thunk sounded at the other end of the carriage, immediately drawing her attention. A Forsworn arrow was lodged deep into the wood, a ring of fire around the shaft.

They’re using flaming arrows… She felt like she was going to be sick, her breath coming faster now, though whether it was from fear or the blizzard outside, she wasn’t sure. Maybe they just missed…? Another thunk, though she didn’t see the arrow this time, followed by another, and another, until finally she began to feel the heat of the flames as they began to devour the dry wood of the carriage.

Panic driving her, she again tried to stand. It took her time, but she was finally able to balance herself on the steep incline. She could see the flames now as they began to eat though the thick covering protecting her from the raging storm. She took a careful step. Confident she had a good footing, she moved her other foot. It slipped, the other quickly following, and soon enough she was on the floor again, pain shooting up her knees. She couldn’t hear the slight popping noise of her water breaking for the sharp cry of pain she’d uttered, and with her mind too focused on escape, she couldn’t afford to think about it.

Smoke was beginning to fill the inside of the carriage now and the heat was overwhelming. She could smell burning hair and she wasn't sure if it was her own or the fur of the pelt covering the carriage. She was beginning to have trouble breathing.

"TELDRYN!" She screamed, unsure what else to do as she began to slowly suffocate, trapped on the floor of the carriage. She could only pray he heard her…

Teldryn had already killed several of the attackers and his atronach had killed a few more. Still, it seemed to him like they only kept coming. He swiped his sword right, cutting the chest of one opponent before quickly skirting out of the way of an attacker to his front. A rogue arrow flew past his covered face and hit one of his opponents in the shoulder. Without thinking, Teldryn immediately finished the wounded man off. He couldn’t see them for the snow, but he knew the archers were there, scattered through the trees. Of course, they wouldn’t be able to see him either, then.

He retreated, allowing his atronach to take the forefront with the archers. She made an easy enough target. He had to go back and protect Desdra, she would freeze to death in this weather. He turned around and made his way back towards where he had left the carriage. Off in the distance, he could see a curious orange shape. He moved faster, soon finding himself in a jog. As he approached, the shape became brighter and larger. It wasn’t until he was almost on top of it that he could see what it was for the snow.

His heart stopped, his entire being freezing up. He snapped himself out of it quickly. He needed to get her out, she had to still be alive, she had to be. His throat tightened as he climbed into the burning structure, the carriage groaning under his weight. He would have to move fast.

“Desdra!” He cried, praying for a response.

None came.

His eyes stung with tears, and he couldn’t decide if it was the smoke or the idea that she might… No. No, she isn’t dead. I can’t lose her too. He carefully slid down the wooden structure in case she was on the floor. He was relieved to find that he didn’t slide into her, but the feeling was bitter-sweet.

Her body was slumped against the side of the carriage, breaths coming few and far between. He quickly pulled her against him, her face in his neck. With his grip on her secure, his atronach shot off the back wheels and broke apart the front of the frame. Again, they were sliding, this time towards the snow covered ground, the entire wooden frame screaming beneath them.

He caught her as they landed, gently guiding her body onto the freezing ground. “It’s alright, Des. I’m here now, you’re going to be okay.” His words were to reassure her, but they both knew he spoke them for himself.

His arms under hers, he carefully dragged her away from the wreck, the wood beginning to collapse now as the fire began to move down the wheels. Once she was a safe distance away, He wrapped her up in his arms, trying to keep her as warm as possible. “Just breathe, Des. It’s okay now. Breathe.”

It was a slow process, the cold stealing away what breath she had left. Her whole body was shaking. “T-thank…” she tried, the words barely escaping her trembling lips. “you… I-”

“Shh, don’t talk. Just breathe.”

“Tel, I… the baby.”

“What…?”

“The baby’s coming.”

His face paled, though she couldn’t see it behind the cloth. “Now? Are you sure?” His voice cracked as if he were again a young sprite of an elf.

She grimaced, pale hands gripping tight to his sleeve. She’d been in a fair amount of discomfort for most of the journey so far, but she had simply assumed it was due to the uncomfortable situation. It appears that that wasn’t the case at all. Teldryn was right… we should have stayed in Castle Dour.

Now that she was surrounded by fresh air and snow, she began to feel the water soaking the inside of her thighs getting colder and colder. For the moment, she could still feel her body, and the pain was only getting more intense as time went by. Teldryn burned away the snow from an area and quickly pulled her into the cleared spot. It was a slow process, but it would save her from having to try to give birth on the freezing snow, if it came to that.

As she lay crying and vulnerable, it was difficult to tell who was more afraid. Teldryn was torn between holding onto her, desperately trying to impart his warmth to her, or watching for predators - be they human or not. Her occasional screams were likely attracting something out here. He just prayed it wasn’t a sabrecat. He could make quick work of most anything else.

Her screams lessened as time went on, her body losing the energy to do anything but survive. Her tanned skin turned a frightening shade of blue, and her grip on his sleeve went loose. She wasn’t going to make it in this cold… Even though he had his arms tightly wrapped around her, he couldn’t keep her warm no matter how hard he tried. Her breathing grew shallow, and finally he began to scream when she no longer could. He only prayed someone would be foolish enough to be travelling during a blizzard and that they would be kind or stupid enough to stop and help.

  The covered carriage of a Khajiit caravan moved at a leisurely pace through the blizzard. It was warm within of the carriage and none inside were in a rush to pass through Rorikstead. Ri’saad sat nearest to the back, the only place where cold air managed to sneak through the tarp. He would rather keep his people warm and comfortable than himself. After all, of his group, he had the nicest clothing and would be the most protected from the cold in this spot. One of the women had just finished telling a funny story, a reminder of nicer times back home, and everyone in the carriage erupted into jovial fits of laughter.

Faintly, over the noise in the carriage, a wail could be heard from outside. Ri’saad stopped laughing and listened. It was obvious the others hadn’t heard it. He waited, and heard nothing for the longest time. Just as soon as he’d written it off, he heard it again, louder this time, though not by much.

We are moving closer to it… He sat up straighter, his jaw tensed, and strained to hear something specific in the desperate cries.

There was nothing for a long time, or perhaps the blizzard simply whisked the words away from his ears, but finally over the whistling of the wind, he caught something. It sounded like a cry for help. The voice was masculine in nature, the accent sounding Dunmeri to his ears.

“Be quiet!” he snapped.

Everyone inside grew quiet, obeying their leader.

He heard the cry again.

Without warning, Ri’saad stood up and untied the leather strips holding the tarp closed at his end of the carriage. Then, despite the protests of his people, he jumped out. He hated the cold, but if someone was in need of help, he would at least consider helping them. To do so, he needed to see what sort of trouble they were in. He jogged up to the front of the carriage and pulled himself up onto the driver’s bench next to one of the extra guards he’d hired.

“You should get back in the carriage unless you want to freeze to death.” the Nord didn’t seem pleased to see him.

“Someone is in trouble up ahead. We should at least see what is wrong, no?”

He sighed. “I suppose…”

The horse moved faster through the biting wind and snow, the screams becoming easier to hear as they went. The site of the smoking carriage came into view, and it wasn’t much trouble to find the pair of elves surrounded by snow. The Dunmer’s cries became more frantic as he begged the Khajiit to help, his skin too pale from the cold, but his pleas were not for him. They were for the girl, half-frozen and obviously in pain. If the dark elf hadn’t told him any differently, Ri’saad would have assumed the girl was dead.

But he recognized the Bosmer. She gave more gold than they would ever ask for the few things she bought; and was one of the few who didn’t look upon them as sewage. She even took the time, when she could afford it, to sit and talk with him. It bothered him to see her this way.

On his order, she was lifted into the carriage by the guards. The dark elf climbed in after her, kneeling at her head and lifting her up to lean against his chest. He tore off his gloves and helmet, pressing his hands to her icy skin, trying to rub the life back into her. Ri’saad traded places with the caravan’s guard: Khayla.

“Des! Des can you hear me!” she asked, fear in her voice. If Ri’saad remembered correctly, the two had become friends. They were often trying to teach the wood elf’s Dunmer companion to sneak better, which never ended very well for him - something the rest of the Khajiit found amusing. “Someone get her a blanket!”

“Can you help her?” The dark elf was near frantic.

“Of course, Khajiit are all familiar with giving birth. It is very common in Elsweyr for us to have many children, so everyone helps.” Atahbah explained as she draped one of the heavier pelts across Desdra’s body.

Khayla pulled her out of her wet trousers, handing them off to someone else. Between the thick hide and the Dunmer’s hot skin, the color was returning to the elf’s tanned skin quickly enough. The warmth had a price, however, the pain of her contractions returning in full force, sweat breaking out on her skin.

“What is your name?” Ri’saad asked the dark elf.

“Teldryn Sero.” The Dunmer answered, but it was obvious he was completely ignoring the Khajiit at the moment.

“Teldryn, you need to let her have your hand.” Atahbah coaxed gently.

“Why…?” He seemed suddenly like a small child, afraid of what would happen.

“Because, she is going to squeeze it.” Ri’saad answered. “And it is going to hurt.”

He didn’t hesitate to take her hand in his, his grip on her loose. He would let her control that. Soon enough, her grip on his hand became stronger than the ebony they forged at Solstheim. Everyone talked her though it, each of them telling her how great she was doing. Ma'randru-jo, the mage, kept telling her not to push, no matter how much she might want to. He kept her talking, asking her about her contractions. Teldryn didn’t listen, his mind was too busy trying to process everything else.

Several hours into her labor - or perhaps it was longer even than that - Ma’randru-jo finally gave her the okay to begin pushing. Teldryn and Atahbah traded places and he joined Khayla at her feet. He had to relax the muscles around the vagina, or Desdra would tear when the baby came out. Only he could do it, apparently, since he was able to make his hands hot. He would have to do it the whole time as well, or it wouldn’t work. Or so the mage said. Confused and very much afraid, Teldryn simply did as he was told. Khayla took Desdra’s hand and comforted her, doing the job Teldryn felt he should be doing. Though he supposed he had the second most important job.

Time seemed to move at a crawl, and it frustrated him to be doing next to nothing for Desdra’s pain. He couldn’t wipe the tears from her face, he couldn’t do anything to make her feel this any less. He just had to pray everything went smoothly. An eternity of screams later, he saw the top of the baby’s head.

“Uh!!! I- uh- the baby- it-!”

Atahbah moved to kneel next to Teldryn. “Don’t stop what you’re doing.” she ordered. “Come on, Desdra! One more push!”

She screamed and pushed again, using all the energy she had to force the infant out of her.

“You’re doing amazing, Des! You can do it, one more!” Teldryn reassured, and he meant every word. She was amazing, and she was beautiful, and she had never seemed so strong to him than she did in the moment she pushed the tiny body of their daughter into his waiting arms.

Ri’saad put on a pair of thick gloves and reached for the baby. Teldryn was so absorbed in her he didn’t even notice. She was so small, and even though she was covered in blood and other strange fluids, she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, next to her mother of course. Near as he could tell, her skin held the tone of sun-bleached bark, a unique grayish-brown color, and she had a fair amount of fine little black hairs on her head, the ends barely reaching the tips of her slightly-pointed ears. Her ears would lengthen as she got older, that was for certain, but he wasn’t sure whose ears she would have.

“Teldryn.” Ri’saad said sternly, his hands still waiting to receive the child.

Teldryn snapped his attention to Ri’saad. All at once, he didn’t want to hand over the baby. He didn’t know this Khajiit, didn’t trust him with his newborn daughter. A glare began to darken his features as he pulled the child in closer to his chest.

“Teldryn… Give Ri’saad the baby…” The weak voice of his life-mate reached his ears. “It’s okay…”

He turned to look at her, then. Hair was plastered to her face, and she was covered in sweat. She was shivering and her breath was coming in fast bursts, but her skin seemed to have completely regained its natural color. He reluctantly cut the umbilical cord and handed the baby to Ri’saad and moved to sit next to Desdra. He couldn’t before, but he would talk her though this part at least. Some discomfort and time later, and a strange tissue accompanied by a fair amount of blood passed into this world. Khayla reassured them it was normal as she went about checking the new mother for tears.

“Did… did I do okay?” Desdra breathed once it was all over.

He pulled her against him, her arms reaching around him as best as she could in her current state. He heated his body up for her, and she seemed to respond positively to the welcome warmth. “You were amazing… I’m so proud of you. I love you so much.” He turned her face up towards his and placed a gentle kiss on her cold lips.

“Mmm…. You’re so warm…” she nuzzled her forehead into the crook of his neck.

The wailing of their daughter caught their attention. She was mostly cleaned and was displaying her healthy set of lungs. Ri’saad wrapped the child in a clean pelt and offered her to Desdra. She took her gratefully into her arms, holding the child between her body and Teldryn’s for warmth.

“She’s beautiful…” she whispered. She brushed a thumb along the child’s swollen cheeks.

The baby’s eyes shot open in surprise at the feel of her mother’s cold skin. She looked up at her mother, confusion in her big red eyes, before turning her attention then to her father, and all the Khajiit that were staring at her as well. Finally she gave a big gummy smile and reached her hands towards her parents.

“You should go ahead and nurse her,” Atahbah instructed.

They moved to the front of the carriage, Ri’saad handing them a larger, clean pelt. Teldryn wrapped it around his wife and child, making sure Des was well covered, before turning his attention back to the Khajiit.

“Where are we?”

“Nearing Rorikstead. We will drop you off there. Someone will be able to help you.”

“Thank you,” Teldryn replied sincerely before moving to sit next to Desdra.

He wrapped his arm around her, watching curiously as the baby nursed. “What are we going to name her?”

“Taalya.” She pulled the uninterested baby away as she readjusted her clothing.

He smiled. “You just made that up, didn’t you?”