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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Cyril feels like he can't breathe. He knows sometimes women die from childbirth... but, no, they can't lose Pel.
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There's far too much blood coming out... but not everything that needs to be out is.
"Sorry," he murmurs to Pel, but he doesn't really have time for full apologies. She's losing blood too quickly. Calmly, with full faith in Cyril having his back if Merrick tries to stop this, Anders closes his eyes and slides his hand inside Pel, searching with magic and touch to find the pieces of placenta that must come out, and must come out now. It goes quickly, at least - he knows how this is supposed to feel and what's out of place and several painfully long moments later he has everything out.
Then he's casting again, bringing everything back to size and slowing the bleeding down. His eyes are still closed. Anders' focus is on what her body is doing, and sight would be a distraction at a point in time that's as crucial as this one is.
It's only when she's stable that he takes a slow breath and opens his eyes again, forcing his own heart rate to slow. He's always afraid when someone he cares about is in danger, but he never has the time to acknowledge or indulge in it until the danger is over, like now.
"Someone... someone get her water. To sip. Me too, please." His voice is tired, and Anders isn't going to be able to do much more than stay here and monitor for a time here.
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He kept by Merrick too, making sure they all three kept out of Anders' way.
Then, the mage asks for water and Cyril nods to Merrick. He thinks Merrick might need something physical to do, something to distract himself from the blood. "You get water. I'll hold the baby."
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It's like being tortured. But when the last of the placenta is out, so is Anders. Pel can finally breathe, and she does, sobbing. Tears roll down her temples. The baby, who had started crying when taken from her mother and wailed after Pel had screamed, is settling in Cyril's arms. Little Sina has, if Cyril has any close, begun sucking on one of his fingers. She is warm, and close to a heartbeat, albeit a different one than she has been listening to. She's fine.
At Anders' order, Pel releases Merrick at last, lightheaded but no longer bleeding abnormally. It's safe. They're all safe. For a dizzying, horrible moment, it had seemed like Sam's warning would be for nothing. But it's over.
"Water," she echoes hoarsely. "Please, Merrick."
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Pel's screams when Anders reaches inside her make his vision turn red, his muscles go rigid. Anders is hurting her. He's fixing her, but he's hurting her. Merrick bites his lip so hard it splits, and he tastes blood.
And then it's over. He barely registers it, still frozen in place and shaking. He looks down at Pel, but can't see her. Voices are talking to him, telling him to do something, but they're muffled, distant. He's barely there.
Cyril and Anders don't get through to him, but when Pel asks him it finally clicks. He looks up and around the room as if snapping out of a trance, as if just now noticing where he is and who is around him. He shrinks like a frightened, skittish cat towards Pel, completely unwilling to leave her, but-- they're right. He needs to step away.
He tears himself away from the bed and goes to fetch the water, and hands some to Anders before moving to prop Pel up and help her drink.
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"If she pales further, at all, say something." Anders may be drained, but he's not completely without anything left. He will pull up all of his reserves if need be. "She felt stable, and Sina felt and sounds stable. But I need the floor's steadiness for a few moments, forgive me."
Showing weakness is something he hates doing. But there's a time when his pride cannot sustain him and he needs to be a little weak. This is one of those times.
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"You do not need our forgiveness," Cyril reassures Anders. "Not after everything you just did. Take whatever you need to recover."
He moves a little closer to Pel, wanting to be by her in case anything else does happen. He really is going to need to think of a good way to thank Anders for everything that he's done.
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"Merrick, help me to a chair. Cy, give me the baby and get these sheets off the bed. There are spares in the wardrobe. Anders, can you make it back home? You need sleep as much as I do."
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But for now, while they help her, he's going to keep this patch of the floor warm.
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He kneels right next to it, not unlike a loyal pet, watching her anxiously.
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"All right," he says a little breathily. "All right. Stay with her, please. If something goes wrong before..." Trailing off, Anders glances at the window. It's still dark, but probably not for much longer, and he's tired. "Before the noon meal, get Samouel. Don't hesitate. After that, contact me and I'll be right back here."
And with that he's shakily making his way out of the room, thoughts entirely on how good it's going to feel to be curled up with Nate for the few seconds he'll be conscious.