CLOSED: When you smile, you knock me out, I fall apart

[mythalenaste]

WHO: Pel, Anders, Cyril, and Merrick
WHAT: Really frigging long labor and fairly short confinement.
WHEN: Forward-dated to Bloomingtide 18-24
WHERE: The Gallows
NOTES: CW for giving birth. TW for blood. Both will be marked on the relevant threads.

You will come of age with our young nation
We’ll bleed and fight for you, we’ll make it right for you
If we lay a strong enough foundation
We’ll pass it on to you, we’ll give the world to you
And you’ll blow us all away

Comments

Bloomingtide 18

[mythalenaste]

Anders - around 4:00 AM

"Anders?" Pel's tone is businesslike. "I wanted to give you more time to sleep, but it's absolutely happening now. Waters still intact, everything coming regularly but slowly. And I don't think I can make it to the docks."

Merrick and Cyril - around 8:00 AM

"I went into labor proper last night. You can come in if you like."

[justice_is_blond]

It takes a few seconds for him to register what's going on, but then he's getting up, kissing Nate's forehead, and murmuring an apology as he grabs his kit. Then the whole of it sinks in and Anders freezes for a moment. In the Gallows. He has to go in, and without the near hour of prep he's had to take with every previous trip.

"Okay," he says over the crystal
She's not the only one he's saying that to; Anders needs to remember that this is fine. He's fine. He's going to deliver a child, something he's done hundreds of times before. The surroundings won't be optimal, but he can manage.

"Okay," he says again, "I'm on my way. How long between contractions?"

[mythalenaste]

"I don't exactly have a clock anywhere. Long enough apart that I can't doze off in between, though. Maybe ten minutes. And I've been trying to sleep as much as I can, but I can't sleep at all anymore."

[justice_is_blond]

"That's good enough. I'm on my way over. Feel free to walk around, and most importantly stay hydrated." At least he doesn't have to ask if she has fluids; she's a mage. Ice and fire make that part easy.

Somehow, without Nate's support, he makes it into the Gallows and doesn't have a panic attack. The focus of having a patient helps with that, and he keeps it as his only focus as he finds and knocks on Pel's door.

"It's Anders."

[mythalenaste]

"Come in."

Once her midwife enters, Pel is preparing. On a table is a half-finished breakfast that is going cold. She has the sheets stripped back on her bed and is putting down some brown paper. There is a basin of steaming hot water and a pile of ragged but clean towels. At once, she stops, resting her hand on the mattress and closing her eyes, face strained, taking deep breaths through her nose.

[justice_is_blond]

Anders steps over to her, resting a hand on her shoulder and getting a feel for what's going on with her body. After a moment he nods and steps away to give her room.

"We've some time yet, but it's best that you called now." He doesn't want her to think he's upset at the early call. This is part of childbirth, after all.

"Do you think you can finish your breakfast? I can warm it for you." The kit's opened up, herbs and tools set out just in case they're needed.

[mythalenaste]

Once the contraction passes, Pel lifts her head and nods. "I've been picking at it. I kept finding ways to stay busy, though. I want this to go quickly. I feel like I've prepared for everything in the world except this. Sylaise save me, nothing really prepares you for this. It's like being stepped on my a bronto."

[justice_is_blond]

"It's not going to go quickly," he says gently. "It rarely does, except for women who have given birth a couple of times. Your body is adjusting so it can give birth. That's not a simple process."

He warms the food quickly before bringing it back over to her. "We're going to be in this stage for a while, more than likely. You should get done any last-minute things you have left for now and be ready for waiting."

[mythalenaste]

She climbs into bed, figuring if she's not sleeping she should at least be resting. A small smile and a thanks as she takes the food from him.

"I've done everything. Twice over. Except--no, I've done that." She stirs the hot cereal with a frown. "I can always knit." She pauses and takes a few deep breaths--not pain, but something else just as strong.

"It's happening. It's really happening. I'm about to meet her." And her face blooms into a grin. Somehow, she thought she'd be a little more afraid than she is, not having a Keeper or her mother here with her. But for now, there is only joy. That joy will be her strength in the hours--days?--to come.

Bloomingtide 19, night

[mythalenaste]

There's no sleep the first night. For Pel, there hadn't been sleep the night before, either. She has been insistent that the two boys take naps when they can, because there's no excuse for them not to. Through the long day, night, and next day, she has gone from lying on the bed to kneeling to pacing back and forth with assistance. And always, there is the boredom. They are running out of games to play.

The sun has gone down again, and Pel is still not ready to start pushing. She's on her bed, leaning on someone, looking more haggard than any of them have ever seen her. Her hair is disheveled and coming out of its braids. She is sticky with the sweat from the last two days. She is grey in the face and her eyes are red and puffy from crying. Crying. She'd thought she would handle it better than this, but it has broken her.

"I can't keep doing this," she gasps when the latest crushing contraction has ended. "This is impossible. Not another night, please, not another night like this..."

[OOC note: no tag order]

[justice_is_blond]

Anders comes over with a cool, damp cloth and dabs at her forehead, searching her face.

"You've the strength to do it, Pel. You can. And you're getting close now. I need you to focus and to stick with it, because the other option is cutting and that's more dangerous now. You have this."

His voice is calm but determined. There isn't any giving up. The baby is coming; no force on Thedas can stop it.

[dalishious]

Merrick has scarcely left Pel's side. At one point he'd gone to get his guitar and has helped pass some of the time playing music for Pel and singing to her. Now, he's cuddled up with her again on the bed, holding her so she's partly on his lap.

He looks exhausted as well, nerves rubbed raw from stress. He hates this, hates Anders for not making it better somehow, hates the baby for hurting the person he loves more than anything in the world. Of course, he shows nothing but tenderness towards Pel, his attention entirely on her.

His head snaps up when Anders mentions cutting, but he doesn't speak. His throat goes dry and he leans down briefly to kiss the top of Pel's head, trying to keep himself together for her sake.

[mythalenaste]

"I just want to sleep," Pel says in a trembling voice. "If I had a good sleep I'd be fine, I wish she would hurry up."

But she breathes. Her head is on Merrick's shoulder, and Anders' encouragement lets her know this isn't what it feels like to labor to death. Deep breaths. Her hand clutches the front of Merrick's tunic.

"Someone start another game, please, I can't think of any."

[justice_is_blond]

"I know," he says gently. Anders finishes dabbing her forehead before picking up the cards and considering.

"Do you know bullshit? Where you claim to play cards in a certain order, some twos, then some threes, then fours, all around and continuously upward, and people have to guess if you're lying or not?" That might require just enough concentration for her to be distracted, while not so much that she's missing what's going on due to the pain.

[samahl]

"You want me to play a game of lying with perhaps the only two people who can see through all of my lies?" Cyril asked, but he is not actually opposed to it. He'll do whatever he can to give Pel the distraction that she needs.

He rubs her shoulder lightly, trying to provide some kind of comfort to her. He hates seeing her in such pain, but he trusts that Anders will know if the pain is above normal. He trusts Anders to get her through this.

[mythalenaste]

A breathless, trembling laugh. These games have saved Pel's sanity, she is certain. How other mothers get through without her support team she does not know. Every time she has that feeling that this is impossible, they bring her back.

"Oh, you are all destined for crushing failure. I'm the best at bluffing."

She peels away from Merrick enough to be ready for cards, brushing stray strands of hair out of the way.

Bloomingtide 20, early morning

[mythalenaste]

[OOC: Primarily Pel and Anders; the boys can comment any time it seems appropriate, but won't be waited for.]

Pel is on her knees with her arms around Cyril, and she has been pushing for what feels like hours. And she has long since realized with utter certainty that all her strength is used up. She is physically incapable of delivering this baby.

Fortunately, her certainty is not the expert here. The real expert is remarkably calm and thinks she is doing splendidly. Yes, the position Pel has taken up makes things rather difficult for him to monitor, but this is as comfortable as she can get. It takes some of the pressure off her lower back, where the worst of the pain is. Her grey linen night shirt is bunched around her knees and she rocks in Cyril's arms, taking deep breaths and steering her focus to the task at hand. If she looks brave and composed, it is because she is focused. She has made little noise thus far, but her face is flushed and gleaming with sweat. This is a lot of work.

"I need," she orders breathlessly, "I need someone to rebraid my hair and get it off my neck. It's gone everywhere."

[justice_is_blond]

Anders reaches over to rest a hand on her shoulder and get a sense of things again, mostly to see if he can spare the hands for that, but then he's shaking his head.

"One of you can see to that, please, after the other's helped me get her back into the bed. You're ready, Pel. It's about time for the breathing exercises and pushing we went over before."

He holds out an arm, ready to help her get up.

"This isn't going to be comfortable, but we're getting there now. This will be over soon." It's definitely one of the longest deliveries he's had. And while it's not the longest he's ever done, it's likely feeling like it's been eternal for her.

[dalishious]

Merrick is sick with worry, but fiercely determined. It's a trait he picked up from a certain someone.

At Anders' request he simply slips his arms under Pel and lifts her, carrying her to the bed and depositing her as gently as possible. He stays there on the bed with her, cradling her close.

[mythalenaste]

Praise to Mythal, the all-mother. It's almost over. Pel rests on the bed for a moment before spreading her knees and bringing her heels to her bottom. It will be over soon. She can feel how low the baby is. Contractions are coming very close together, and each one comes with an irresistible urge to push. One comes now, and she begins to push before Anders has a moment to say what she should do. So close, the baby is visible after this push is over.

[justice_is_blond]

He opens his mouth to instruct her and then she's pushing, already on top of things. Instincts are powerful, and she's following the right cue. Anders pushes her skirt up so it rests on her knees, giving her a small bit of privacy while letting him see what's going on.

"You're going to want to push again but I need you to hold back and simply breathe. I can see the top of her head, which means you're so very close, Pel. Just breathe and let her move, all right? We're almost there."

He turns, grabbing the wash basin and bringing it over as well as a couple of towels before quickly reheating the water to being lukewarm again. Things are going fairly smoothly now that they're at this point, and both of them are nearly done working. He hopes.

[mythalenaste]

The next contraction comes and the urge to push is strong, but Pel pants like he taught her, like blowing out candles, like playing a flute. Beads of sweat form on her forehead, her brow creases, but she makes no sound but the panting. He can see her. She is touching the world, though not totally brought into it. She reaches up to take one hand of Merrick's, one hand of Cyril's. She needs to pull against them both for the next part. Breathe and let her move. The stretch and burn is insane, but she and every mother before her can bear it. She focuses on the ceiling above, knowing the only way to help the pain is to plow forward.

Soon. So very soon, she will hold her baby.

[justice_is_blond]

"Good. You're doing so well, Pel. We're so close." He leans forward, towel ready to support the head as soon as it's out. "Just a few more moments, and her head will be clear and it will be one last push. Nearly there." He knows the strain is at its peak right now, the head is the largest portion to pass through, but he can hear Pel breathing.

"Here we go, here we go." Her head is out, and Anders wastes no time in supporting it as well as starting to wipe her mouth off. "Push for me, Pel, one last hard push, and she'll be out completely."

[mythalenaste]

Pel releases someone's hand long enough to tug open the tie on the collar of her nightshirt. In a few seconds, that is where her newborn daughter will be placed. It needs to be skin meeting skin. There are some traditions from which she will not stray.

Then it's time. One more push. Anyone can do one push. She braces against Cy and Merrick, sucks in a last deep breath, looks toward her daughter, and pushes with everything she has. She makes almost no sound. She will not have the first thing her daughter hears on this side of the world be her mother screaming in pain. She is Dalish. She did not cry out when she was helping bury the corpses of her people. She did not cry out when Elan died. She did not cry out when the needle tattoed Mythal's devotion over the bridge of her nose. She makes no sound now.

There is a sudden end to the pressure. She slumps back, gasping, and listens.

[dalishious]

Merrick's hand is on her forehead, pushing hair away from her sweaty face. He does not care about the child right now, only that Pel is close to being free from the brutal pain that has taken her these past few days. Anders says that it'll be over soon, and suddenly he finds himself praying for what might be the first time in his life--the life that exists since he died at the age of eight, because before then he'd pray just like everyone else, reaching out to gods that aren't there--praying that it'll be over soon, that she'll be all right, that the smell of blood is just temporary.

He's held her this whole time, and once she slumps back he's suddenly aware that he is shaking. He listens too-- Is it all right? Is it dead?