#nrpwriting

Note: I'm not sure if this needs a trigger warning or not, but it involves a cheating boyfriend and a breakup.  If that sort of thing is upsetting to you, please skip this one. :)

During one of her days off, Elizabeth Lockheart decided to get some cleaning done around the apartment she shared with Alvar, her live-in boyfriend.  It was not an arrangement her parents particularly approved of, though they hadn't actually said anything to that effect. 

There were times--like now, for instance, when she carried an armful of empty beer cans to the recycle bin--when she herself wondered if this was even going to work.  Alvar, as big as he was, was a total sweetheart.  He was also a total slob, and though she wasn't always as tidy as she should be, she sometimes felt like she was living with Fred Flintstone!

She cursed and turned off the vacuum cleaner when the monotonous 'Whrrrrrrrrr' changed over to a tortured-sounding 'WhrrrrEEEYRRRH!'.  It was the tell-tale noise of something being picked up that was too big or the wrong shape to make it past the spinning brush, and she yanked the plug out of the wall and knelt down to turn the vacuum over and pry whatever-it-was out of there.

She knew something was odd when she saw a glint of gold.  She didn't own any gold jewelry, and Alvar didn't own any jewelry, period.  He didn't even own a watch.  When he wanted to know what time it was, he just took out his smartphone.  "What in the world..."

Liz hooked a finger into the vacuum, then yanked it back with a hiss when something jabbed her.  Then, a little more carefully this time, she finally managed to work the obstruction free.

For a moment or two, she couldn't comprehend what she was seeing.  Then it was as if all the strength was draining out of her, and the gold earring slipped from her nerveless fingers to land with a soft 'plop' on the carpet. 

She didn't own any earrings.  Her ears had been pierced once, but she'd had so much trouble with them, no matter what sort of metal the earrings were made of, that she had eventually just given up and let the holes close.  She still had the tiny pinprick scars from where the holes had healed shut.

How had this earring gotten here?

***

She was calm when Alvar came home from work.  Her greeting was much more reserved than it usually was.  Usually she gave him a kiss, but this time all he got was a hello.  She didn't want to jump to any conclusions.  It was possible that the earring belonged to one of his sisters.  She would give him a chance to explain himself.

"I'm going to ask you something.  And I want you to tell me the truth," she told him, leaning against the wall and taking something out of her pocket.  She held it in a loosely-closed fist.

Alvar's expression turned wary, like one who knows he's in trouble but doesn't yet know why.  "Okay?"

She felt a sick, creeping sort of dread as she opened her hand to show him the mangled gold earring.  "Whose earring is this?"

The wrinkles in Alvar's forehead smoothed out, but it wasn't out of relief.  His mouth slowly sagged open, and he looked almost as sick as she felt.  He wasn't a good liar, and he knew it.  He saw her expression hardening--and, somehow, becoming broken--and he knew that she had already seen the truth in his eyes.  He dropped his gaze to the floor and heaved a deep sigh. "Ah, crud..."

There was no pain for her yet.  There was no anger.  There was nothing.  This betrayal was too large for her mind to fully take in, the wound too deep for her to feel.  The pain would come later.  And the anger.  This was the calm before the storm, and she knew it.  She was grateful for it, because--at least for now--she was fully in control of herself.  "Who was she?  Do I know her?"

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't tell me 'sorry'.  I don't want your 'sorries'.  I want you to tell me the truth.  Did this belong to a date, and did you do what I think you did in my apartment?"

Alvar seemed to almost collapse in on himself as he slowly sat down on the couch, unconsciously putting himself in a submissive position under the weight of his guilt and disgrace.  Elizabeth was disjointedly reminded of a building implosion she had once witnessed from afar.  Her voice grew less forceful and more pleading.  "Just tell me."

He sighed again, rubbing his face with his hands.  "I didn't mean for it to happen."  He paused; usually this was the part where the girlfriend would interrupt, wasn't it?  He glanced up, but he couldn't look her in the eye for long.  "It was only one time."

Elizabeth looked down, and tears finally came to her eyes.  They slid down her cheeks and dripped off her chin to make twin water stains on her shirt.  "Do I know her?" She asked again.

Miserably, he shook his head.  "I work with her.  She needed a ride home, and..."

"And I can figure out the rest," She interrupted him, turning the earring over in her hand.  Oh yes, the anger was coming now.  And the pain.  "Well...you better give this back to her, then."

Alvar flinched as she lightly tossed the earring in his direction.  It bounced off his muscular chest, and seemed almost to stare accusingly up at him from the floor.  "I..."

"Maybe she'll let you crash on her couch until you can find another place to live, because this...you and me...I trusted you, ye big idiot!"

The man looked up as a sob caught in her throat, and he felt rare tears coming to his own eyes when he saw just how very deeply he had hurt her.  He got up and reached out to hug her, then recoiled when she rammed the heels of her hands against his chest.  He didn't know she could hit so hard.

"No.  Don't touch me.  You need to leave.  I want you out."

"Please..."

"No."

"Please," Alvar felt something in the vicinity of his heart twisting like a rabbit in a snare.  If this agony was anything like what he had put her through, he knew he would never be able to come up with an apology that was good enough.  "Another chance.  Give me another chance.  I won't--"

"I knew you were something of a 'ladies man'," she made air quotes, her voice rising with the tide of her anger, "I don't know why this comes as such a surprise!"

"But I changed!  I-I mean," he amended, realizing that he hadn't quite been successful there, "I can change!  I'll change for you, like I meant to, just let me--"

"Alvar...no."  Her voice was gentle again, filled with pain, but with a new understanding.  "You might want to change, and I've no doubt you tried, but what's done is done.  Maybe it's even wrong of me to expect so much from you when I knew better...I have no right to try to change you."

"You didn't try to change me, I tried to change myself!"

Shaking her head slowly, Liz walked a few paces away from him before turning back.  "It just isn't going to work...If you did it once, you'll do it again.  And again.  And again.  And I'll be a paranoid wreck trying to keep an eye out for it.  You don't know how long it took for me to get to a place where I actually like myself.  And I care too much about myself now to put up with that."

Now Alvar really was crying.  No sobs escaped his lips, but his eyes were watering (sort of like when his brother 'accidentally' threw pepper in his face), and his breaths were coming a bit faster than usual.  His chin quivered once, and he shook his head helplessly.  "I'm sorry."

"Aye...so am I.  Get your stuff together.  And don't forget that."  She pointed to the earring, and went into the kitchenette to get herself a glass of water and to give herself some space away from him.

He scooped up the earring and trudged off to throw together an overnight bag, his gaze never leaving the floor.  He planned to get the rest of his things later on, and he hoped she wouldn't be mad enough to destroy any of it.

Elizabeth was still leaning against the counter when he came out with his duffel bag slung over one shoulder.  She was staring off into space, looking at a picture on the wall without really seeing it. 

Alvar knew better than to approach her when she was this angry.  Physically she was no real threat to him, but he didn't want to agitate her anymore than he already had.  He deserved worse, and he knew it.  And she deserved a man who would and could be faithful to her.  "Will you...will you be okay?"

"Oh, I'll be just fine."  She replied curtly.  She still wasn't looking at him.

"Well...bye."

A terse nod was the only sign she gave that she had even heard him.

He paused at the door, swallowed hard, and turned back to her. "Liz? ...Lizzy...I really do love you, you know."

And, finally, she looked at him.  She was crying again, but her decision had been made ever since the guilt had shown on his face.  "I love you, too.  Goodbye, Alvar."

As soon as he had closed the door behind him, he heard rapid footsteps approaching the door.  He stopped, hoping against hope that she had changed her mind, that she would fling open the door and beg him not to leave.

CLICK!

By the time he realized she had just locked him out, he could faintly hear the muffled sounds of grief-stricken sobbing on the other side of the door.  He could hear her sliding down the painted wood--'eggshell' nothing, it was yellow--to sit on the floor.  

He lost no time in escaping that awful sound, but he couldn't escape his own thoughts.  What have I done...

***

Alvar dropped by two days later to pick up the rest of his stuff, and Liz didn't seem too surprised to see that he had a black eye.

"Tavish?"

"Si..."

She sighed and stood aside so that he could come in.  "I told him to stay out of it.  What did you do to him?"

"Nothing. I just didn't let him hit me after he got in a lucky punch.  Then he stopped swinging and cussed me out pretty good.  The guy's got quite a vocabulary."  Alvar smiled as if this amused him, but it was mostly a facade. 

There were a few boxes in the middle of the room, and he resisted the temptation to open them up and check.  "So, um...how much of my stuff is left?"

"Huh?" She cocked her head, then realized he was asking in a round-about way if she had destroyed any of it.  "Well, you'll need to get new sheets.  I, um, shredded them."

"Oh." Alvar nodded, scratching the back of his head.

"Everything else is safe,"  She continued, "I'm pretty sure this is all of it.  If I find anything else, I'll...yeah."

"Oh, good.  Good.  So, um...I guess this is it, huh?"

She nodded slowly, looking like she had hardly slept since he left, but she seemed better than she had two days ago.  "Yup.  I'll, uh...I'll help you bring these down to your truck."

He nodded, but took the two heaviest boxes himself.  He didn't have a whole lot of junk, so it only took them one trip.  He didn't close the bed of his pickup truck right away, though; he sat down on it and looked up at the sky.  It was gray and cloudy, and the clouds seemed like they wanted to rain.  He wasn't a poetic man by any means, but he thought it seemed fitting.  "I guess...I was sort of hoping you'd forgive me."

"Alvar..."

He cut her off hastily.  "Not take me back, or anything.  I don't deserve it.  I just...I wish I didn't have to lose you as a friend..."

"I do forgive you...mostly.  But as a couple, we're done.  As a friend...I just don't know.  I need time to think about that."  She told him seriously, mindful that her feelings might change when she wasn't so angry.

"Maybe...maybe I could give you a call sometime?" he asked.

"Mm...tell you what.  Why don't I give you a call.  When I'm ready.  Then we'll see.  But we won't be getting back together."

He drew in a long, deep breath through his nose, then let it out as the first drops of rain began to speckle the sidewalk.  "Guess I can live with that.  I better get these inside before it really starts coming down."

"Aye...take care o' yourself."

"You, too.  Um...can I hug you?"

She almost said no.  She wanted a clean break.  But although she was pretty sure she had fully fallen out of love with him, she couldn't deny that she still cared for him. 

The hug was brief and awkward, but she didn't regret it.  She turned and went inside before he had even driven out of the parking lot, and her heart sank as she stepped foot in her empty apartment.  She tossed her keys on the coffee table and headed for the phone.  "So much for behaving myself; I need pizza."

Note: I had a lot of fun writing this story.  Thanks for sticking with me! 

Afra was leaving him.  The infant Aamnia slept in the cradle upstairs.  Peridan was backed against the wall as the Calormene woman, the mother of his child, hissed horrible and hurtful words and jabbed him with a finger. 

'I'm leaving...'

'Can't be with a woman anymore...'

'Never wanted to get pregnant...'

'Hate you...'

'Leave me alone...'

'Don't try to find me...'

And then the images shifted, and wasn't Afra.  It was Beth!  They were not downstairs; in fact, the were not even in his old house.  They were in their new house, in their shared bedroom.  In her arms she held an infant, but it wasn't a maid-child.  It was their son.  It was Zerach!

'You can't stop me,' she was telling him. 'I don't answer to you, or anyone else!'

'But...why?' he whispered, 'Where is this coming from?  If I've done something--'

She opened her mouth to answer him, but before she could say a word she faded from view, and she took their son with her.

No.  No!  No, no, NO, NO!  She couldn't leave, she couldn't take his son from him!

'Beth!  Zerach!  Beth, please, no!'

***

Peridan's eyes flared open as wide as they would go, and his mouth opened and closed like that of a fish as he fought to draw breath, but his chest felt paralyzed.  Finally, he heaved in a whooping gasp, then looked over at where his wife should have been, panting.  She was not there!

"Peri?"

The voice--that sweet, beloved voice!--came from the vicinity of the rocking chair in the corner of the room, and Peridan's head jerked quickly in that direction. 

She was still there!  Her son--their son--nursed peacefully at his mother's breast as she rocked in the chair and lightly patted his bottom.  She was hardly in a position to get up quickly, but that was no problem at all.  Peridan got out of bed and crossed the room in two strides, kneeling beside the rocking chair and lightly touching her face before caressing Zerach's soft, whispy hair.

"Love, what is it?"

Peridan could not answer right away.  His throat seemed to have partially closed up, and his eyes began to sting.  He lowered his head and rested it on his wife's knee, trying to banish that dream from the dusty corners of his sleep-fogged mind.  He felt her hand settle lightly on his head.  The hand began to stroke, fingers lightly raking themselves through his black hair, and he heard her speak again.

"Bad dream?"

Normally he didn't like to speak of his nightmares, but a part of him needed reassurance that only she would be able to give him.  He mumbled softly into the cotton fabric of her nightgown, "You were leaving..."

"What?"  Elizabeth's voice was quiet, but disbelieving.

"You took Zerach with you..."

He felt her hand pause in its stroking, then he felt her shift in her seat and slide a hand under his chin.  He could have fought her efforts to make him look up, but he had no will to do anything, much less fight her.

She was holding her son in one arm and holding his chin with her other hand, and her eyes, while tired from sleeplessness and the physical exertions of giving birth, were both sad and loving as she shook her head.  "Never..."

He gulped, nodding as he continued to fight back his emotions, and actually smiled.  "I...I know.  But dreams...they feel real when you are having them."

Liz lightly trailed the backs of her fingers down his cheek, and he was surprised to see the left corner of her mouth quirk up in a smirk that didn't quite seem to fit the situation until she spoke.

"I know what you mean...Once I dreamed that I'd shown up for a training session fully clothed, then everyone started to laugh.  When I looked down, I realized I was completely naked.  When I woke up, I actually flung off the bedclothes to make sure!"

Her story had the desired effect, and Peridan snorted indelicately as he tried to keep from laughing and disturbing his nursing baby.  As it was, little Zerach flung his free arm outward in the moro reflex as the snort startled him, but he quickly went back to his very important business of obtaining nourishment.

Peridan straightened up, though he was still sitting there on his knees, and kissed the top of Zerach's head before kissing his wife's cheek.  "How silly of me to be upset over such a far-fetched dream...I love you."

She kissed his forehead before resting her own forehead against it, and, tired though she was, she felt that sleep would be a long time coming.  "And I love you.  I'll come back to bed soon, why don't you go back to sleep?"

Her husband just settled himself cross-legged beside the rocking chair and rested the side of his head against her knee.  "I'm just fine right here."

The End

Note: Here it is, guys!  I will be writing a short epilogue, but here is the final chapter.  Content warning; childbirth happens, though largely 'off-camera', as well as nursing, but it's nothing you wouldn't find on regular daytime TV.  The scenes jump around a lot, so hopefully it won't be confusing.  If it is, let me know and I can edit things a bit.  I hope you enjoy it.  Zerach is heeeere~

Peridan's knuckles cracked as Elizabeth squeezed his hand like a sock puppet, but he barely noticed.  He quietly encouraged her, telling her that she could do it, that she was doing so well, that it would all be over soon.  She hadn't made much noise so far, but earlier she'd had the wild-eyed look of a prey animal, and during a moment alone she had confessed her fears to him.

'I'm afraid...Afraid of what might happen.'

'Just hold onto me.  I'm here.'

And he hadn't left her side.  Girbius had returned with a few things they'd be needing, and the old faun and Yehosef had been working together with hardly a word spoken between them. 

Now, as Elizabeth strained to deliver her child, she found new courage in the fact that she could finally do something, that she finally had some control over what was happening; she was no longer a hostage to her own body, and she was making this happen, rather than letting it happen to her.

She was tired, though.  So tired.

***

Tavish and Aamnia were trying hard to tune out the screams from upstairs.  Even though the sounds were few and far between, Tavish had to admit that his sister had quite a set of pipes!  Their game was abandoned, and now they simply sat side-by-side, looking at the staircase and listening anxiously for the sound of a baby cry.

Malachi, his ears flattened to the sides of his head in his anxiety, paced fitfully and occasionally looked at Tavish as if asking him what was going on.  The cries from upstairs had unnerved the large dog, who simply couldn't understand why they were all downstairs when they were clearly needed upstairs!  He rested a paw on Tavish's knee, looked soulfully into the man's eyes, and whined.

"It'll be over soon, boy," Tavish petted the dog, trying to reassure him, but another scream rent the air and made the dog whine again.  "I hope..."

Aamnia shook her head, picking up her pencil and beginning to draw.  "Me, too.  I'm getting sleepy, but I can't sleep now.  Too noisy."

"Ah, she can't help it," Tavish chuckled.  "Say, what're you drawing?"

Before Aamnia could answer, there was another scream, followed by a whimper and exhausted panting.  They could faintly hear Peridan encouraging her.

***

"You can do it, you're almost there!" Peridan told her, not loudly, but firmly, excitedly, cheering her on.

"Tired..."

"I know."

"Hurts..."

Yehosef turned his head and made an urgent request of Girbius.  "Towels.  Quickly, please!  The baby comes."

"Aaaaah!!"

***

Tavish and Aamnia, though neither would admit it to the other, were paying close attention now.  Although they were downstairs and in another room entirely, neither of them had been present for such a thing, and they didn't quite know what to expect or how to react. 

Aamnia was simply vowing to herself to never have children if it hurt badly enough to make a woman bellow so, but Tavish was praying that both his sister and the baby would be safe and well when this whole thing was all done.

Another scream, the loudest one of all.  Silence.  Then, from upstairs, a wonderful sound indeed!  The raucous, healthy-sounding wail of a newborn.  Yehosef's voice, sounding slightly choked with emotion, telling the new parents, "A healthy son!"  Peridan laughing and sobbing at the same time, and it sounded like Elizabeth was doing the same.  Girbius gravely offering his congratulations.

Tavish's tense face melted into a joyful smile, and he pulled his niece close and kissed the top of her head as she embraced him back.  "Congratulations, big sister."

Malachi's ears perked and his long whip of a tail started to wag before he began to bark.  As happy as he looked, he seemed to be cheering in celebration.

***

Girbius had come downstairs just long enough to tell Tavish and Aamnia that it was a boy, and that mother and child were doing just fine.  After that, it was quite some time before they were actually allowed up.  Elizabeth needed to recover for a few minutes, and there were some other things to attend to before either she or the baby was ready for visitors.

A little over half an hour later, though, Peridan came down.  His eyes were a little red, but he was grinning from ear to ear.  Aamnia was on her feet in a flash, and she attacked her father with such a fierce hug that he was actually knocked back a step.  "Would you like to see your baby brother?"

Malachi took that as an invitation and dodged around Peridan's legs, thundering up the stairs and sitting patiently outside of the closed door.

***

Except for Aamnia's declaration that the new baby looked like 'an angry little potato person'--which her father was rather horrified by, but Elizabeth was actually sort of amused by--Zerach's debut couldn't have gone any better. 

Malachi had gotten in despite Peridan's efforts to block him, but he had been so delicate, sniffing lightly at the baby in Liz's arms before moving to the hooked rug in the middle of the room and lying down like a sphinx as if keeping guard over his new ward.  There was no way he'd be allowed to stay in the room all night, but Peridan saw no reason to chase him out right away with how well he was behaving. 

Tavish had denied that he was crying, saying that he only had something in his eye.  He wasn't fooling anybody, but no one badgered him about it.

At last, though, Tavish and Aamnia were ushered out of the room, and Aamnia got three extra good-night kisses from her father before finally heading off to bed.  Tavish, who said that he didn't mind sleeping on the couch, decided to turn in as well.

Finally, at around two in the morning, the excitement had died down and Elizabeth and Peridan were alone with their newborn. 

"I am so proud of you, Beth!" Peridan whispered, kissing Liz's temple as she nursed Zerach. 

She smiled tiredly, lightly smoothing back the baby's hair.  It was dark brown, much darker than her own reddish-brown hair, but not quite as dark as Peridan's black hair.  She wondered if Zerach's hair would acquire coppery highlights from sun exposure, the same way hers did. 

Zerach's eyes, during the brief time they were opened, were a dark, steel-blue that would most likely change over to brown in the next month or so.  Or, quite possibly, hazel.

"I think he looks like you, Peri," she told her husband, who was letting their son grip his forefinger in a tiny fist.  The resemblance really was uncanny.  Zerach's skin was a little bit lighter than his father's, but if Peridan's mother were still alive, or if his father was there to see, they would have both asserted that little Zerach could almost be Peridan's twin from another generation. 

Almost.  Zerach had his mother's eyebrows.  And that perturbed frown he had gotten on his face after he had been bathed and swaddled in a blanket, almost as if to say, 'You would not believe the day I've just had, the rude treatment I've just been subjected to'?  That was one hundred percent Elizabeth! 

"I see some of you there."

Hearing the tightness in his voice, Liz chuckled softly through her nose.  "You're crying again."

He sniffed, but didn't deny it.  "I'm just so glad I was here...and that all is well.  I never thought I would see a miracle happen right before me..."

"Not half as glad as I was," She sighed, still exhausted from her efforts.  "When you left the room that last time, I didn't think you were coming back..."

"Of course I was coming back...Why--"

"Men usually aren't there for it.  Then again, nothing about this has been conventional...I'm glad it happened the way it did, though.  People I trust...and my husband was there..."

Her eyelids were beginning to droop, and seeing that Zerach was no longer feeding, Peridan gently took the baby from her and let her cover up again. 

Peridan had intended to put Zerach in his cradle so that they could get a couple hours of sleep before the next feeding or nappie change, but he found himself unwilling to set the baby down just yet.  He whispered to the baby in his first language; 'My beautiful son...my boy...You have no idea how much we love you...but we will show you every day.'

Perhaps Zerach had his uncle Tavish's sense of humor, because, as if on cue, he opened his mouth and burped.

When Elizabeth and Peridan finally stopped laughing--quietly, but fairly hard, because the timing of the burp had been priceless!--Elizabeth asked in a drowsy voice, "Are you going to sleep yet?"

Note:  Almost there!  I don't think I need to tack on anymore warnings for this, but just in case; miscarriage is mentioned and birth is happening here.  Enjoy~

Peridan sat alone in Elizabeth's 'project room', his head resting in his hands as his lips moved silently in prayer.  As much as he wanted to be there with her, he needed a few moments to himself.  His emotions were in such turmoil that he could actually visualize himself shivering apart like a building in an earthquake as excitement, fear, guilt, and still-new grief warred within him. 

It hurt him like a physical blow to see his wife in pain, to know that he was responsible for it, and to know that there was nothing he could do about it.  He was overjoyed at the thought of becoming a father again, and being able to do it right this time.  His mind kept dwelling on the child that was never born, and he wondered what it would have been, a boy or a girl, and whether it would have resembled him or his Beth.  There was the fear that something would go terribly wrong, and that he would lose one or both of them in childbirth, and it was this thought on top of the others that had made it necessary for him to seek solitude.  He would not let Elizabeth see him like this now; she needed his strength, not his tears.

After about twenty minutes or so, he had reached an almost meditative state, and the tears on his cheeks grew cold.  He wiped them away, and went to go and splash some cold water on his face.  Speaking to Aslan, even if the Lion wasn't physically there, always helped, for Peridan knew that his prayers were always heard.

Feeling that he was ready to go back now, Peridan took up the candlestick he had brought with him and left the room.  One hand was in his pocket, fingering the handkerchief Elizabeth had embroidered for him.

***

Three minutes apart now.  She dearly loved her husband, but right now she was feeling sort of angry, and he was the reason.  It was irrational, and she knew it; after all, they both created this child, and she couldn't blame all of her discomfort on him.  On the other hand, how was it fair that women must go through the pain of labor, while men...

Of course, she only thought this way when she was in the middle of a contraction, and rather than unleashing an undeserved torrent of venomous words on Peridan--who, she had to admit, was being wonderful throughout all of this--she closed her eyes to shut out the world and tried not to tense up.  Girbius had told her a few hours ago that fighting the pain would only make it more intense, and she found that he was right. 

This did not mean, however, that she wanted her husband to rub her belly while she was in the middle of one, though!  She hissed in a breath through her teeth, took his hand off her belly, and lightly kissed it before gasping, "Please, don't."

She missed the hurt look in his eyes, but Yehosef did not.  He lightly tapped Peridan's arm and whispered, "Don't take it personally.  This can make them a little bit short-tempered, but she doesn't mean it."

If Elizabeth could have heard him, she would have told him that she did too mean it, but that she was sorry just the same.  Right now, though, she was lost inside her own head, ranting silently in her thoughts to keep herself from moaning out loud. 

'I'm never making love again...Peri will just have to live with that, because I am not going through this again!  Ow, this hurts...ow...ow...ow...okay...it's fading...ohhh, that's better.'  She sighed and opened her eyes, and realized that she had a fistful of blanket clutched in her hand in a death grip.  She let go of it and ran her hand through her hair, which was becoming damp with perspiration.

It was nearly midnight now, six hours after she had naively thought that she could handle it, and she was beginning to seriously question herself.  She no longer felt like crocheting, and her project sat forgotten in the basket by the bed.  She had grown tired of pacing--tired in general, really--and was trying to rest, but she felt anything but restful.  Sleep definitely would not be possible.  There was no more small talk with Peridan, and she only spoke to answer a direct question, usually a terse-sounding 'yes' or 'no'.  She was afraid that if she spoke too much, she would vocalize her fears--possibly even in a scream, the way things were progressing--and she didn't want let Peridan see her that way and to hurt for her.  As focused as she was on what she was doing, how was she supposed to know that her husband was mistaking her silence for a rejection?

"I...I'm going to..." Peridan jerked a thumb at the door, getting to his feet.  "Would you like some water?"

Her answer was nothing more than a head-shake, and the reason for this was simple; she was feeling nauseous, and didn't want to talk.  She had overheard Yehosef warning Peridan earlier that women in labor sometimes vomited, and she was determined not to.  Though, she had to admit, the matter was somewhat in doubt at the moment, and the thought of eating or drinking anything had made it worse.

Peridan left the room, and Girbius followed him out.

***

The sight that greeted Girbius and Peridan in the living room was quite unexpected.  Aamnia was still up, having refused to stay in bed, and she and Tavish were playing some sort of game that involved drawing X's and O's on a grid.  They both turned their heads in unison to see who was coming down.  And they were both wearing paper pirate hats.

The scene was quite comical, and Girbius quirked an eyebrow before sketching a jaunty salute.  "Ahoy there."

Tavish quickly whipped the hat off his head, having forgotten about it, but Aamnia grinned and returned the salute.  Her grin vanished when she saw how worn her father looked, and how he was now frowning at her in disapproval.

"You should have been in bed hours ago.  What are you doing up?"

"I can't sleep.  Can I please stay up?  Just this once?  I'll be quiet, and I won't do it every night.  Pleeease?"  She put on her most winsome pout.  "I want to see the baby."

"You won't do it every night," Peridan firmly agreed, but he was smiling, albeit tiredly.  "But tonight you can."  He held up a finger.  "Just this once.  And don't force yourself to stay awake when you get tired.  When the baby's here, we'll wake you."

Aamnia, never one to control her impulse to hug, rushed over and threw her arms around her father.  "Thanks, Da!  Want me to make you a hat?  Unca Tavish showed me how."

"That would be--"

There was the sound of a scream from upstairs, and everyone in the room grew very still for a moment.  It wasn't a particularly long scream, and it wasn't the loudest one they'd ever heard, but it was a scream nonetheless, and the first one Elizabeth had given all night.

Peridan was off like a shot, taking the stairs two at a time in his hurry to get to his wife.

Aamnia went back over to Tavish and sat down again, drawing her last X and making a line through the three.  "I win.  Is she gonna do that all night?"

Tavish made no answer, partly because he didn't know, and partly because the subject made him uncomfortable.

Girbius, on his way into the kitchen to get a large pot of water boiling for sterilizing a few things they'd be needing, replied, "She'll probably holler a few times, but don't let it frighten you.  Bringing a child into the world is hard work.  At the rate things are going, it won't be all night."

"I'm not frightened," the child said scornfully, drawing another grid.  "Your turn to go first, Unca Tavish."

***

It wasn't time for her to push yet, but it would be soon.  Yehosef lightly dabbed a cool cloth on the woman's sweat-slick forehead, not phased in the least by the scream.  In truth, he was a bit impressed with how quiet she had been throughout the whole thing, but he knew it couldn't last.  He patted her hand when she apologized for it.  "No need.  Yell as much as you like.  You're doing very well."

The door burst open, and Peridan stood hesitating in the doorway, almost as if he wasn't sure if he belonged there.  His doubts were put to rest when Elizabeth's eyes widened and she reached out a hand towards him.  Desperate.  Pleading.  Her eyes and that simple gesture were as plain as any words she could have said.  Help me...

When Tavish and Aamnia were finally let in on what was going on, they took it more or less in stride.  That is to say, Tavish turned a rather interesting shade of pale gray and sat down rather suddenly on the couch, and Aamnia bounced on her heels before peppering the adults with a barrage of questions, which Tavish did his best to answer while the others were busy sorting a few things out.

"When's the baby coming, Unca Tavish?"

"Um, well, soon..."

"Yeees," Aamnia drawled with exaggerated patience, "But how soon?"

"We don't know," Tavish replied, nervously cracking his knuckles.  "It'll be several hours at least, I'm sure.  It might not be until the wee mornin' hours, when you're in bed asleep."

"Sleep?  I'm too excited to sleep.  And how come I can't be there when it happens?" she demanded.

Tavish turned bright red, and he muttered 'oh my' before quickly changing the subject.  "Do you still have that drawing paper?"

"I don't want to draw!"

"Well, good, because I wanted to show you how to make paper hats."

He was greatly relieved when Aamnia ran off to get her drawing paper, though he didn't let himself believe for a moment that she had forgotten her previous question!  Children were like that; he remembered well from when he was one, and he now understood why his father sometimes became selectively deaf!

***

Elizabeth was told to go upstairs and change into an old nightgown she could stand to part with, for it would need to be disposed of later.  Then she was told to just relax--'Ha-ha,' she thought--and find something she could do to pass the time.  Girbius also encouraged her to pace the room, saying that it would help speed things up a little, though she regarded this with some amount of suspicion.

And so, she paced.  She made small-talk with her husband.  She tried to read, but she couldn't concentrate.  She finally took a ball of sea-green yarn from the basket by the bed and just grabbed a random crochet hook. 

The first few hours really weren't all that bad.  Every now and then a minute would be shaved off of the intervals between the contractions--she had to admit that they were really starting to hurt a little bit now, but they never lasted for more than a minute, and she was able to keep from outwardly reacting to them--and there seemed to be very little that needed to be done.

Peridan seemed agitated, like he wanted to ask her something, but wasn't sure how she would react.  She tried to focus on her crochet project--she hardly knew what she was making, but it would most likely turn into another baby blanket--but she could almost feel his eyes on her, and she finally put her project aside.

"You look at me as if I might fly up the chimney.  What is it?" she asked, trying to keep her tone light.

He blinked, then looked bashfully at his hands--had he been twisting the edge of his shirt for very long?--and tried to think of a good way to ask his question.  He hadn't been allowed in the room when Aamnia was born because Afra hadn't wanted him there.  The husband usually wasn't in the room, so that wasn't the part that had stung so.  It was the way his first wife had rejected his presence at the birth, and he'd had no choice but to honor her wishes. 

What were Elizabeth's wishes, though?  She was Afra's opposite in so many ways, but she hadn't asked him to be with her when their child was born.  What if she didn't want him there either?  And what had he missed the first time around?

He shook his head, unable to voice his concerns, and decided that it would be best to simply take his cues from her.  "Nothing...I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

She smiled and reached over to take his hand.  "You didn't, love.  You just looked worried."

'Worried' was a good word for it!  He smiled, brought her hand up to his lips, and kissed the knuckles.  "I just want it to go well."

"Aye..." She nodded, then inhaled a long, deep breath through her nose and let it out in an exaggerated sigh as she began to ride the wave of this newest contraction.  They almost reminded her of a musical scale; they began at the low notes and climbed slowly up to the high ones--the peak of the contraction where the pain was at its worst--before slowly climbing back down the scale once more and coming to rest.  Then, in...twenty minutes now, or perhaps it would be nineteen, it would begin again. 

Peridan felt her hand tightening involuntarily on his as her breathing pattern changed, and he lightly squeezed back to encourage her and to let her know he was there.  He put one hand on her belly, and was surprised to find that it was rock-hard beneath his finger pads. 

'So this is what is happening to her...' he thought.  The thought did not comfort him.

A few moments later, her eyes grew focused once more, and she squeezed his hand once more to reassure him.  "Peri...would you pray with me?"

He smiled, almost tearfully, and linked his hands with hers.  "Of course," he put his arms around her and began to whisper a prayer.

'That wasn't so bad.  Maybe I'll have an easier time of it than most.' she thought.

Note: Frank discussion of birth from here on out, but I promise, nothing graphic!  Slight trigger warning, referencing a previous miscarriage.

Girbius listened solemnly as Peridan and Elizabeth quietly explained to him what was going on.  Tavish was still with Aamnia in the living room, but both of them were now being suspiciously quiet, no doubt hoping to overhear something of what was being said. 

"And this is all my doing..." Peridan added without inflection, but his haunted green eyes gave him away.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow and said dryly as she put a hand on her belly, "Don't give yourself all the credit.  I helped, too."

Girbius made a sound that could have been a snort of suppressed laughter, but he quickly cleared his throat to cover it. 

"That's not what I meant," Peridan wiped a hand across his mouth, and found that his upper lip was beaded with cold sweat.  He forced himself to remain calm.  He would own up to his mistake, leaving no doubt about where he was guilty.  His wife deserved to know.  "Girbius came here to warn us about the storm, and I didn't listen."

"Now, wait..." She held up a hand to stop him.  "It's quite some distance to town, and we would have had to pack something.  If we'd gotten caught in the storm, my brother would have arrived at an empty house, and we would have...well, maybe staying here was the right thing to do."

Girbius interjected now, putting a hand on the nervous husband's shoulder.  "She may have the right of it.  I knew the storm was coming soon, but I didn't know how soon.  Its swiftness surprised me, I admit it.  And it makes no difference now.  What we've got to do is deal with what is in front of us."

Peridan felt an odd sort of calm settle over him, and he could have sworn he heard Aslan's voice whisper in his ear.

Courage, my son...

"Right...I am sorry, even so." He took his wife's hand and drew a deep breath.  "Yehosef delivered Aamnia, and he's here tonight, so at least we have someone who knows what to do..."

"Two," Girbius corrected him.  "I've had to assist in numerous deliveries as well."

Elizabeth, somewhat anxious, looked skeptically at Girbius and asked, "How many?"

His answer was prompt, and--you must forgive him for this--a little bit smug.  "Twelve humans, eighteen dwarves, one hundred-and-thirty-two fauns, seven hundred animals (give or take) and a centaur.  And compared to a centaur, young lady, you should have any easy time of it."

Her surprise was quite evident, and she had to ask, "Do animals have an easier time than humans do?"

"Not according to them," Girbius replied, "It is all subjective.  The centaurs, though...I would have to say that they have it the hardest."

She had only one thing to say.  "Oh."

"It is up to you, of course," he continued, "I would not intrude upon your privacy."

Elizabeth looked from Girbius to Peridan, then thoughtfully passed her hand over her belly.  Girbius was trustworthy, and so was Yehosef.  They both knew what to do, and she would need help.  Her mind went unwillingly to the heartbreak of that first awful loss, the pregnancy that never got beyond the second month, and she wasn't aware that the thought caused her to shake her head 'no'.  She looked back at Girbius, and smiled gratefully.  "It seems we need all the help we can get."

Girbius nodded back, turning business-like now, and nodded to her belly.  "May I?"  He put both hands out, but did not touch her.

Unsure what he was about to do, and falling back on her defense mechanism of corny humor, Liz raised an eyebrow.  "Well, I don't know; I hardly know you!"

There was a beat of silence, then suddenly the nervous energy in the room evaporated with a nearly audible 'pop' and all three of them were laughing.

"Well, a sense of humor is a good thing to have right now," Girbius was the first to get his laughter under control, and he placed his hands over her swollen abdomen.  There was purpose behind that action, though Peridan was frowning before long as if he didn't approve of this.  Then Girbius nodded as if he had received good news.  "The baby is head-down, as it should be.  It seems to be a good size...but not too big.  How far apart are the contractions?"

Elizabeth blushed, though not as deeply as her husband; she was used to being the blunt one!  "Twenty-eight min--"  She frowned, then resumed as if she hadn't been interrupted by said contraction.  "Twenty-eight minutes.  I'm not even sure when it really started.  My back's been bothering me all day, but until recently it's been pretty vague."

"Mm-hmm," Girbius seemed to expect this.  "It's possible that you've been in early labor for a few hours but did not know it."

"So, what now?" Peridan forgot to keep his voice low, and nearly jumped out of his skin when Yehosef entered the kitchen.

"Your pardon, sir; I have taken the liberty of getting things ready."

"What 'things'?" Elizabeth looked confused; Yehosef hadn't even been told yet, so he couldn't possibly be talking about the baby, could he?

There was no denying it now.  Elizabeth brought her story to a close, and managed to smile as Girbius clapped politely.  Peridan nodded his approval at her tale, though he looked rather concerned.  Tavish, who had heard this story before, was keeping Malachi company.

"Can I have another story?"  Aamnia was practically bouncing on the hearth rug as she gave her most winsome smile.  "Pleeeeease?"

"Mm, not tonight.  Peridan, can I see you in the kitchen for a moment?"  She made a couple failed attempts to get up, then her husband was there, grasping her hands and giving her the needed leverage.  "Thanks."

He nodded, glancing back at Girbius, Tavish, and Aamnia.  "Excuse us..."

***

"Are you ill?"  The question was out of Peridan's mouth before Liz could even draw breath, and he held her by the shoulders as he carefully studied her face.

"No,"  She reached up to remove his hands from her shoulders, but instead of letting them go she kept hold of them.  "But this blizzard couldn't come at a worse time."

This did not reassure him, though.  "What do you mean?  What's wrong?"

"I mean that I'm going to have the baby tonight or tomorrow, and we're stuck here."  Her voice was a low, urgent whisper, and though the both of them were outwardly calm (more or less), they felt anything but. 

Peridan's face went ashen, and he looked down at her belly before placing his hands on it and looking once more at her face.  "Are you all right?  How do you feel now?"

Was she all right?  She had, of course, heard horror stories--she'd made the mistake of consulting with a few acquaintances who had already given birth, and even with her high pain tolerance, the thought made her cringe--but she kept these to herself.  "I feel fine.  It isn't bad yet.  They're about twenty-eight minutes apart.  I mean the--"  She gestured vaguely with a 'rolling wrist' motion as if to say 'you know'; frank discussions of these matters didn't normally occur in mixed company, so the term 'labor pains' was a bit of a stumbling block for her.

Peridan nodded to show that he understood, and finally he recognized the feeling he'd had before for what it was; dread, and no small amount of guilt for failing to heed an elder's sound advice!  He scraped his teeth along his lower lip as he considered, then decided that consulting with that elder about what they should do now that there was no way to reach a midwife might not be such a bad idea.

"Peri...what are we going to do?"

Peridan met her gaze, a little surprised at the way she asked the question.  He would have expected such a question to be asked in a frightened or desperate sort of voice, but she had asked him this in the same tone she would use to ask him if they should buy yellow apples or red ones at the grocer's stand.  He could see that she was a bit frighted, but his heart swelled with love and pride at how effortlessly she seemed to keep it in check.  I won't fail her.  We will manage somehow.  

AN: This is shaping up to be longer than I thought!  Tavish decided to crash the party be in the drabble too, mainly to keep Aamnia company and be the first one on Liz's side of the family to see the baby.  No baby yet, though!  That story snippet at the end isn't mine.  I actually got it from the preface of the 1960 musical, "Peter Pan", with Mary Martin.  Liz isn't telling the story of "Peter Pan", though.  It just sounded like a good story beginning, which I won't be continuing, and a good place to end the chapter.  Here's part 2!

Sometime during supper, Elizabeth's brother, Tavish, arrived with the news that the weather conditions were so poor that he was lucky to have found them.  After Aamnia had been sternly admonished by her father that it was not polite to point out her uncle's 'snotsicles'--Peridan had to raise his voice to speak over Tavish's guffaws and the coughing fit Elizabeth used to cover her own laugh--Tavish was led over to the fire. 

Girbius did not have to fight to keep a straight face, and Peridan did not miss the look that the faun gave him as Tavish was given a bowl of hot winter stew.

When Tavish's teeth had finally stopped chattering, he joined the others at the dinner table and explained why he had come.  "The snow really started to accumulate an hour ago, and it's given no sign of letting up.  I was coming to see if you were all right, but I got turned around and nearly got lost in the woods.  A dryad pointed me in the right direction after telling me off for being foolish, and...well, here I am."

As Tavish mentioned that he had come to check on them, his eyes lingered on his sister for a brief moment.  'I knew she was nearing her time, but I didn't know she was this far along...'

"You really shouldn't have done it, brother..." Elizabeth admonished as she ladled more stew into her brother's bowl, and Tavish tucked in with gusto.  He didn't even seem to notice that the stew contained no meat, or perhaps he was too polite to mention it.  Either way, the stew was delicious, and Tavish was very hungry!

"Why not?" he asked with his mouth full.

Choosing her words carefully, seeing that Aamnia wasn't missing a word, Liz explained, "You wouldn't be helping anyone if you got lost in a blizzard.  Least of all, yourself."

"I made it, didn't I?  And I have to ask, what's this herb I'm tasting?"

Tavish was deliberately changing the subject, and for once Peridan was grateful.  He had an awful, hollow feeling in his chest as it appeared that Girbius's warning had proven to be sound.  He still hadn't quite recognized that feeling for what it was.  "Thyme.  And a little bit of marjoram," he said distractedly.

"Da's a great cook," Aamnia boasted, helping herself to a dinner roll.

"That he is, Lass," Tavish agreed, privately wondering why the older man should look so pale beneath his naturally dark complexion. 

The corners of Peridan's mouth quirked a little at the compliment, and he inclined his head in a gracious nod of acceptance.  "Thank you.  Have as much as you like.  I made too much."

Elizabeth tilted her head as she studied her husband's expression, and she opened her mouth to ask a question, but shut it again with a look of puzzlement.  "Excuse me, I'll be right back."

Peridan stood when she did, but he didn't follow her into the kitchen, though this was clearly his desire.  Mindful of his daughter and his guests, he kept his expression carefully neutral.  "Would you like some more, Girbius?"

"No, thank you," Girbius wiped his mouth with his napkin and placing the square of cloth, still neatly folded, beside his plate.  "It was delicious, though."

Their great dane, Malachi, who had been napping by the fire, perked his ears before lifting his head and giving a great yawn.  He got to his feet, stretched, and followed Elizabeth into the kitchen. 

***

Elizabeth was standing by the kitchen table, one hand gripping the edge of it, and the other braced against the small of her back as she took several slow, deep breaths.  Her back had been bothering her on and off for several weeks, and today had been the worst, but up until now she had thought nothing of it. 

Just now, though, she was experiencing what she thought was a muscle cramp in her lower back.  It wasn't especially painful, but it seemed to come out of nowhere, and it wasn't getting any better.

After nearly a minute, though, the kink in her back seemed to relax, and she straightened with a relieved sigh.  Then she jumped as a cold, wet nose slipped itself under her hand and tossed it up in a request for petting. 

"Oh!  Malachi, you scared me!" she laughed, scratching him behind the ears.

The dog bumped his nose against her pregnant belly, his eyes soft, and leaned into her hand.  It was almost amusing how protective he'd gotten even before her condition had been apparent; just the day before, he had been resting his chin on Liz's belly and getting in the way as she tried to crochet--her excuse for not moving him was not wanting to disturb him--and he had actually grumbled at Peridan when the man had sternly told him to go lie down.  And he did...right by Elizabeth's feet, which became his new pillow for the next hour or so.

Right now, the dog's look of concern mirrored her own private worry.  And it was a worry she quickly dismissed, because she had always heard that labor pains were in the belly, not the back.  Of course, back pains didn't usually come in thirty minute intervals.

No, surely this wasn't it.  This couldn't be it.  Not now.

***

Peridan wouldn't let his wife help clear the table.  Or, rather, he told her to sit and relax while he did it.  It really stood out to him as being strange when she didn't argue with him, so much so that he didn't demur when Tavish and Girbius offered to help.  When Aamnia excitedly demanded a story from Liz, Peridan murmured to his daughter, "Not right now.  I don't think she feels well."

"I don't feel unwell," Liz smiled, "Actually, a story does sound like a good idea.  Especially on a night like this.  The wind can howl its fiercest, the snow can batter the windowpanes, but we're all toasty in here.  Aye?"

"Aye!" Aamnia giggled, sitting cross-legged on the hearth rug as her step-mother settled herself into an armchair, Peridan's soft laughter following him out of the room.

Elizabeth's eyes strayed to the mantle clock for a moment, and her brows furrowed as if in concentration.  Another twinge in her back, but this time there was something new.  She could almost envision a point near her spine expanding horizontally in both directions, wrapping around her middle and converging at the top in a cramp that felt vaguely similar to those that accompanied her monthly time.  Twenty-eight minutes from the last one.  Perhaps this is it.  Well, there's plenty of time...We're not going anywhere tonight, whether we will or nae, so there's no cause to be panickin'...and I've got just the story.