Afterbirth
When Florina went into labor, everyone told Hector to go for a ride. As long as he stayed in the castle he was stir crazy, every echo sounded like one of his wife's agonized screams. He should have known something was wrong when he returned and no one would look him in the eye. Oswin took him aside and told him point blank that the baby Florina carried was dead.
"And Florina?" Hector asked, as he looked toward the birthing room.
"She's in bad shape, but she's alive," he said.
"Let me see her."
Oswin grabbed Hector before he could leave, "I can't let you."
"I will see my wife!"
For once, Oswin conceded, his arms dropping to his sides as he bent forward in a slight bow. Hector opened the door. He noted the nurses crowded around Florina.
"Let me see her," Hector said. All in the room turned to him before exchanging uneasy glances.
"Lord Hector, that might not be such a good idea," one nurse said. "We still have to clean her up and all…"
His jaw clenched so tight, he swore there were cracks in his teeth. Had he not heard Florina's soft groan, he might have broken something or someone.
"I'm all right," Florina managed to say. "Please…don't you worry about me."
Her soft voice eased his worry just a bit. Still, he moved closer, the nurses moving out of his way. He ignored the bloody mess of sheets seeing only Florina's sunken eyes and white lips. He kissed her pallid forehead gently.
His lips lingered against her skin, "If you need me—"
"I know," she whispered. He left the room and closed the door.
Hector couldn't understand why he was mourning over a child he never met. The only close contact he and his stillborn son had was when Hector held his tiny cold body for hours. Perhaps somewhere in the back of his mind he hoped that keeping his baby warm would revive him. In the end, he had to lay him to rest with all his other fallen family. Lyn would have said that only Mother Earth could hold him now.
Florina had received very little comfort outside of letters from Ninian, Serra and Lyn. Most of the women were whispering about how they expected such weakness from a child with Ilian blood. It wasn't even fit to breathe one breath of air outside the womb. The child was paying for Florina's sins as a mercenary.
What did they know about Florina? Even he had not been told the half of what she suffered. It pained him greatly to watch her politely address all those she knew were talking ill of her day after day. She was graceful and strong, shaking off the loss of a child like Ostia expected her to.
Except she hadn't gotten over it. They were just coming home from an evening ball and a young courtesan had just discovered she was pregnant. Florina on the surface had no reaction other than happiness at the news. Hector had to stay at the ball a bit longer, but when he retired to their chambers he found Florina curled up on the bed, half dressed and sobbing. Hector, didn't need to ask what troubled her. Instead he held her, let her cry and sniffle into his shirt.
It was unfair to him that she could be so vulnerable. If she had cried in front of everyone at the ball no one would have thought ill of her. No one would be surprised to find her like this. He could never do so. He could never show such anguish not without incurring disapproval. Florina would have to cry enough for both of them. He hated to make her do that, silently, she understood.
For this child, Hector was doing the exact opposite of what everyone had told him the last time. When they received gifts, he didn't open them. When Florina didn't want to set up a baby room, he didn't make her. Somewhere deep inside, he knew she expected this baby to die like the other one. Most might have labeled her hopeless and morbid, but Hector knew better. Every evening Florina would work on knitting a baby blanket. Nothing else may be ready, but she'd have something to keep her child warm.
This time when she went into labor, Hector swore he wouldn't leave her. Even when the nurses tried to make him go, even when Florina squeezed his hand so hard he swore she broke a few bones, he wouldn't leave. Not this time. He was rewarded with hearing his little girl's first cries and holding her ever so carefully as Florina was too weak to do anything other than look at her. Even with her smushed features and red face, he knew already she would look like her mother. So her name would be Lilina.
So while Florina rested and a baby room was hastily thrown together, Hector held Lilina.
"It's going to be you and me, Lilina, you hear that?" he said. Lilina only sighed in her sleep. Yet another woman who silently understood him. He was going to love this girl.
Florina had gotten pregnant again and went into labor while Hector was gone on a trip to attempt to establish some form of diplomacy with Bern. The boy lived for a few hours but died. Florina held on long enough for Hector to return. She died shortly after seeing his face. Odd, Florina could fight against a dragon, but died because of a baby. No, she died trying to give life to another person. It wasn't a small feat, and she and their son deserved to be buried as lavishly as any general who died in war. It was an elaborate funeral, and most interpreted it as a warrior's farewell. Only Hector would know the truth.
It was a sad thing to be glad a child was dead. Selfish too. Hector hated to admit it, but if the child had lived, he knew he would have blamed him for Florina's death. Silently, Hector would have accused him of murder. It was unreasonable and irrational to do so, but he knew what grief would have done to him. It was good that his son did not have to live with such a brooding father. The last thing Hector needed was to turn into a King Desmond. After the funeral, Hector took Lilina to her room. Lilina had her tiny arms wrapped around his neck as she sobbed into his shoulder. He rubbed her back and breathed deeply.
"It's going to be just you and me for a while, Lilina," he said.
"But why?" she said. "Why did they have to be put in the ground?"
"They have to be buried," he said, holding her tighter.
"But Mommy looked like she was sleeping. If she wakes up…"
"She won't wake up, Lilina. I told you that she and your brother won't ever wake up again. Father wouldn't lie to you."
Lilina sat back enough so she could see his face, "Why don't you ever cry! Don't you miss Mommy?"
"Mother usually did all my crying," he replied. Lilina frowned and hugged his neck again.
"I'll cry for you, Daddy," she said. "I'll cry enough for both of us."
He held her close. Not one of his sons could have done that for him. Only his little Lilina. He thanked Elimine for leaving her with him.
A/N: Yes, technically his sons had tear ducts and could cry. But how would they be viewed in Ostian society?
I apologize if anyone is squicked by the title, I know afterbirth is not a pretty or pleasent thing.
