[Music]
It had started to snow. It wasn’t very heavy, more or less a simple flurry of snowflakes outside the bedchamber window. Dancing atop the window ledge and lightly tapping the glass, Arahaelth lay beneath her furs and thick knits and watched from her bed.
She was in labour, a child on its way as she tended to herself, as one would do should a midwife be unavailable. And in the cold tundra of Fenn, there was none at her disposal. With that, she did as she had done before and cared for herself.
Though something was different with this little one. She was in more pain, and she had lain there for many hours; so many, that she had lost count. She was worried, for the Grand Princess had felt pain before when she had been with child. Her first pregnancy had been a failure, her baby boy born lifeless and unmoving. Thus, she was fearful, staring long and hard at the drifting snowfall and praying to The Mother that her child be given a chance.
Aelthir came into the room, his pallid skin etched with lines of worry as he came to sit on the bed beside Arahaelth. He went to wrap his arm around her shoulders, being gentle and going to offer any help he could provide her in her time of pain and discomfort. The pair exchanged soft conversation, talking about their normal endeavours before the topic shifted to the baby.
“How are doing, my love?”
“The babe has been taking their time. I am… worried, truth be told.”
“Why is that, Ara? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I think it’s just my age.”
The elfess groaned and went to lay the back of her palm over her eyes. After a few long moments of distressed and pained noises, she meant to send Aelthir off.
“I think it’s time. Head out now, my love.”
And so he went, reluctantly, but pressed a small kiss to her cheek before he left the room. Alone, she stared up at the ceiling, preparing herself for what she would endure.
With the child resting in her arms, swaddled in warm furs and held secure, Arahaelth panted, her hair plastered to her face and body trembling in an inexplicable discomfort. Something was horribly, horribly wrong. But it wasn’t the baby this time, the little blonde haired boy in her arms was healthy and strong. No, this time, it was her. With a whimper, hot tears began to spill down the wood elven woman’s cheeks, shaking as she brought her index finger to trace along the cheek of her infant. For some time, she remained in such a way before she stilled herself, diminishing her tears with a swipe of her hand. Calmed, she called for Aelthir to come back.
He was quick to return, resuming his position upon the bed and looking over both mother and child alike. Painfully, Arahaelth smiled to him and offered the sleeping infant to her husband as she trembled, her fingers gently resting over his as he took the babe in his arms.
“He looks like you,” she croaked in a whisper.
“Hopefully he is more like his mother.”
She stared for a long time at them both, as though imprinting the image of her husband and second son within her mind. Tormented in silent agony, Arahaelth meant to beckon Aelthir closer.
“You have to choose a name for him, Aelthir.”
“We will pick one soon enough.”
And it was as though her suffering had reached a crescendo, unable to be exceeded as her fingers meant to trace down the side of his cheek. While her warmer fingers imprinted themselves to his skin, her eyes surveyed his features with a mesmerized expression.
“I love you.”
If he had spoken to her, she did not hear it. Her cheek pressed to the pillows and her fingers falling away from his face, she seemed to no longer be able to move, too tired to continue trying.
She did not see her life, nor did it flash before her eyes. It was as though every emotion she had experienced in her time walking the realm had hit her like a tidal wave, crashing over her; every feeling, every memory, all at once. Aelthir, Aelthos, Liewyn, Katar, Leo, Artimec, Tristin, Siri, Toren, Aenor, Laen, Ailduin, Ciro, Avenel, and hundreds of others faces she either knew or did not all seemed to assemble as her eyes fell closed. And with one, soft little chirp, a little sparrow seemed to fly before her eyes, leading her into her rest.