Pel (
mythalenaste) wrote in
faderift2017-04-21 06:36 pm
Entry tags:
CLOSED: When you smile, you knock me out, I fall apart
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.
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

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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."
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"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.
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"You are," he confirms. "You're close to meeting little Sina. We've a little work ahead of us, but she's on her way." He settles into a chair and gets as comfortable as he can. There's not much else to do for a time here. "It couldn't hurt to knit, pass the time in a way that you can set to the side and it won't suffer for it."
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"You can have the bed if you want to lie down and sleep," she offers. "If you can, you should."
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"I have a cat. I'd not mind another. Though I do deal with a tiny mabari for the sake of my husband." Anders shrugs. "She makes him happy, and he keeps her clean, at least. They're not as Fereldan a pair as they could be. You should get a cat, after Sina's a little older. Too young and cat scratches can be dangerous."
There's a very good reason why he left Purrelden in his room, and it's not just because she scooted into his warm spot the moment he was up.
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The look he gives Anders plainly says 'if you harm her in any fashion, or fuck this up, I'll make you wear your insides', and then his attention is entirely on Pel.
He kisses her knuckles, his other hand moving to gently brush through her hair.
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"I think I just heard talk of a cat?" he offered, speaking calmly as if this wasn't one of the biggest days of their lives. "Are you thinking of having one eventually? If so, I can make toys to amuse her. I figured out how to make these little balls that have trinkets inside so it makes a noise as it rolls." He used to make toys for Merrick too, when they were younger. He'll probably do the same for Sina.
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"The Hero of Purrelden would like that. And so will Little Sina, probably. Once she is able to control her fingers."
She glances up at the boys. "I'm glad you're here. Though I'm afraid we're still very early on. Very, very early." She releases Merrick's hand so she can keep eating. "Breakfast is by the fire, if you want it, and I'll not blame you if you take naps. I can't sleep; it doesn't mean you can't."
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"I've still got the one you made for Purrelden," he says to Cyril, "though not for lack of effort on her part to knock it under everything. And Pel's correct, we've some time yet. Get comfortable. This stage tends to be the longest, so once it's passed things will be moving at a more steady pace."
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He doesn't seem all that interested in idle conversation, but that's to be expected. No matter what happens, he's staying by her side, so he gets ready to be here for however long this takes.
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"Do we have all of the supplies we need?" he asks, looking around. If they are here for the long haul it might be good to make sure of that. "Do we need any more water? Or... anything? I don't mind making a run to the kitchens if needed."
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"I might need you to make me cups of tea with sugar every once in a while."
Her expression changes, though it's not so much a matter of looking pained as pained might look on other people. Her brow lowers, her mouth tightens, her eyes go nearly shut. She leans against Merrick heavily, hiding her face as is her custom when she is in distress. It's just a contraction, nothing is going wrong. It doesn't necessarily feel wrong, even. But it's pain like she has never known and she had thought she had been ready for this. But nothing prepared her for how bad it would be.
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Anders' expression turns a little sympathetic as Pel braces; this part isn't easy on anyone. ...None of it is, really.
"Breathe evenly if you can, Pel. It will help to focus on regularly breathing in and out, because I can't give you anything for the pain just yet." Their systems are too joined. In a few hours baby Sina will be in the birth canal and Anders can offer Pel elfroot if she'd like, but everything's still settling into place.
"And if one of you wants to give her a hand to squeeze, she may appreciate that. Though I'll warn you, it will likely hurt."
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"Breathe in...and out," he says rhythmically in Elvhen, his low voice close to her ear, repeating those words his father used to say to him when he got frightened during climbing lessons.
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They are Dalish, after all. Enduring is part of their culture, and even if all three of them had been rejected from their Clan and family, they still had some aspects drilled into them.
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Then the tattooer started on the bridge of her nose, needle against bone, and she realized it had been foolish to believe she could know the borders of pain.
Pel figured contractions would be like monthly cramps, except many times worse. That was foolish. It's not just her womb that is giving birth to this baby, it's her entire body, so her entire body feels it. And the worst is yet to come. There is no finding the edge of this pain and using it for strength. All bets are off, and this is territory she never imagined.
She tries to relax, tries to let her hand lie loose in Cyril's. That doesn't help. It makes her feel more adrift. So her grip quickly goes from limp to crushing. It's the breathing that helps, the rhythm echoing in her ears as Merrick voices it.
In...and out. In...and out.
It's going to be a long night.