 She could feel it move, and her hand would flutter to lie across her stomach just in time to feel a foot kick. Sometimes she would have time enough to smile before the doubt set in; then her stomach would lurch in a way unrelated to the child inside her. She’d choke back tears and run shaking fingers through her hair; somewhere someone was laughing at her. It had been a long nine months. She felt hideous, fat and constantly warm and it had been months since she had looked in a mirror. In the darkness Thyri would hiss curses to it, her little parasite, and then she’d feel guilty and place a soothing palm across her skin instead. Her life had become one long up and down. She hadn’t wanted this; she still didn’t want it, but what could she do? Even she couldn’t defy nature, and without his magic, neither could Rhaegar.
Thyri missed him. She would wake up in the night and reach out for him, only he was never there. He was back in the Pantheon, surrounded by cold marble living their little masquerade. When she had returned to him all those years ago, she had sworn that she would never spend another night without him. It seemed fate made liars of everyone. It was yet another thing that preyed on her mind. What was this child? It was not like the first time. Thyri had always known what would become of her daughter. She would grow into a woman and then she would marry and fill a house with children. There had never been any other possibility. It had not even been a surprise when child bed fever had carried her to an early grave. That had been expected too. Everything about this new child was unexpected. It could be anything; everything was uncertain now. Thyri supposed that her life with Rhaegar had always been uncertain; he was an unpredictable man. She’d always been certain about him though, and that was all she needed.
The rocking chair tipped forwards, helping Thyri to her feet and with a sigh she crossed the space between the fireplace and the kitchen. She could feel the eyes of the girl on her, but chose to ignore the sensation. Sometimes it was nice to have her there, just to fill the emptiness, but Thyri found that she was becoming frequently irritated by the younger woman’s presence. Women never made for especially relaxing company. Picking up a tea cup from the worktop Thyri turned on the tap over the sink and filled it with water. As she moved away from the cupboards, she sipped at it...and then, for no obvious reason, she dropped the cup. It fell onto the wooden floorboards with a clatter, and the handle snapped off as water pooled out towards the carpet of the living area.
“I can do it,” Thyri snapped as the girl jumped to help her, “I’m pregnant not crippled.” It irritated her how difficult the simple action was, but she wasn’t about to give up. Collecting the broken pieces she threw them with some force into the sink. This was getting unbearable.
A pain suddenly pierced her stomach, sharp enough that she gave an audible gasp.
“Little bastard,” Thyri muttered from between clenched teeth, “did you hear me?” This time, she allowed the girl to help her back to her chair, glad again for another living presence in the cottage.
“Don’t just stand there gawping, girl,” Thyri said, “run and fetch Dr. Gupta... Go!” The front door slammed closed as the girl took off leaving Thyri to take a deep steadying breath. Gupta would get a message to Rhaegar. He’d promised, and the doctor was yet to break a promise.
She rested her hand back on the swell of her stomach, “at least we’ll finally be able to get away from each other.”
---
Her awareness of the room had been steadily shrinking as the hours had ticked by, the pains getting steadily closer and closer together. No matter how many cold cloths they patted her with she couldn’t get cool and the sheets were sticking to her back. Her red hair had adhered itself to her forehead and face; no one had thought to sweep it back. She wished they would. There were people moving around the room, but Thyri only half registered their presence. They passed her by like shadows, muttering to each other in low voices that she could hardly hear. She thought she could hear the hammer of rain against the small cottage windows, maybe even the distant rolling of thunder, but nothing meant much, nothing beyond the pain. It was worse than she remembered, but she supposed that such memories faded a great deal over the course of a century.
Rhaegar was there. One moment he wasn’t and the next she could feel him in the room. She didn’t need anyone to tell her, she didn’t think she’d have heard them if they had. He was there. Thyri threw out her hand towards him and seconds later he had snatched it up and pressed her knuckles to his cheek.
“I’m here,” he said, his purple eyes wide and Thyri thought, just for a moment that he looked afraid. She couldn’t remember seeing him look scared before. It was a strange thing to notice, but she was suddenly aware of how large he was. Her hand looked tiny in his, and he seemed too large for the room. He was more than this, she thought, he was beyond it, as beyond birth as he was beyond death. Was that why he was afraid? Since the dawn of time he had existed but he had never been part of this before. He still wasn’t, not really. It was all her. Rhaegar reached out and combed the stray hairs back away from her face and, despite everything, she smiled.
His fingers braced against hers as she fought against another pain and gave his hand an all-mighty squeeze. She heard her own scream, echoing in the small room and looked to him for reassurance. Oh those eyes, those maddening, maddening eyes.
“Thyri,” Dr. Gupta’s voice came from her left, “it’s time to push. I need you to listen to me, okay?” She nodded fighting against the fear. The words echoed back at her over the years. She remembered...she didn’t want to do it again. Thyri felt her tears bubble up and they spilled down over her cheeks. Rhaegar was there, wiping them away with the flat of his thumb. He stroked her head and knelt on the ground so that their foreheads touched.
“I’m scared,” she told him, wrapping her fingers into the sleeve of his shirt.
“I know,” Rhaegar replied, his breath buzzing warm against her skin. He pulled back a little so that she could see his face again.
“I can’t do this,” Thyri sobbed.
“There’s nothing you can’t do.”
---
“The head’s been born, Thyri,” Dr. Gupta told her, “not much longer now.” She nodded, clinging harder to Rhaegar’s arm as she tried to ignore the overwhelming strangeness of the feelings coursing through her body. “With the next pain, I want you to push as much as you can.” The time between Gupta’s words and the pain seemed to stretch on for an eternity but finally, finally she was overtaken by an intense urge to push. She needed no encouragement.
Thyri felt it slip into the world, and as it did she felt herself relax just a little. She slumped back against the pillows as Gupta and the girl scrambled around at the foot of the bed. Rhaegar didn’t let go of her, not once. A second later, the air was filled with the high-pitched notes of an infant’s cries.
“It’s a boy!” Dr. Gupta announced, “a son. Congratulations!” Thyri felt Gar’s arm tense and she managed the smallest of smiles. She was exhausted, but she knew it wasn’t quite over yet.
“Gar,” she muttered, surprised by how quiet her voice sounded, “go with Svea and clean him up.”
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