Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work.

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A/N: Spoilers galore in this story (for both Dragon-Cursed – about ten chapters of that fanfic left to go - and The Dragon's Prophecy – not yet started though planning is well underway. I've put some very brief story notes about current and planned fan fiction works on my profile page so you can see where this one fits in if you're interested :)

Being an inveterate turn-to-the-last-pager myself, I can only hope people who aren't won't be too upset with this being posted massively out of order. If you think you might be then it's probably best not to read it but that's obviously your call :) Based on my current rate of output, it's likely to be a while before Nuada and Elfraine's story naturally gets to this point, which is roughly three-quarters of the way through the whole arc. For some reason, this particular tale started bugging me about three weeks ago and insisted on being written now.
Cheers
ESSI :)

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Chapter 1

Na Tailte Nua de Bethmoora
It was no good! A comfortable position had eluded her for weeks now and tonight she couldn't find one that was even half-way bearable. Elfraine struggled to sit up and then carefully manoeuvred around to face the other side of the bed. She scowled down at the sleeping form of her husband. He was lying on his back with his hands clasped loosely behind his head, looking totally relaxed and apparently having the best sleep ever. He compounded his crime with a couple of gentle snores as he moved restlessly for a moment, and then his breathing evened out into a steady rhythm once more. She watched him like a hawk and strained her ears. It had to have been him who woke her up in the first place! If she heard so much as one more snore she'd be perfectly justified in giving him a swift kick in the shins, she reasoned. When none was forthcoming she harrumphed grumpily and leaned back against the old oaken headboard, feeling wickedly out of sorts and utterly at odds with the world.

Casting her eyes around the darkened room, she noticed the fire had burnt low in the grate. The smouldering embers could no longer ward off the chill in the air though they were still throwing out enough light to chase half-hearted shadows across the walls. She shivered and pulled the covers up under her chin as she tried to wriggle in closer and steal some of her husband's warmth. It was Midwinter's Eve and so far the season had well and truly lived up to its name. Blowing in from the vast sheets of ice which lay to the north, the December winds shrieked and groaned around the corners of the castle and the world outside was buried beneath the thick, white, blanket of winter.

A sharp kick in the stomach gave Elfraine a sudden start and she put her hands to her swollen belly, trying in vain to shush the active babe within; he continued to roll and play, paying no attention whatsoever to his mother. She winced as he gave a series of particularly sharp kicks. It seemed he was using his two little fists and both his feet now, and she was certain he was turning somersaults in there. He was going to be just like his older brother and their father.

She looked down at Nuada and discovered he was no longer asleep, which was hardly surprising really. Flame-gold eyes gleamed up at her from beneath half-closed lids. She immediately forgot her crotchety mood. "I'm sorry if I woke you, love," she said quietly.

He pushed himself up onto his elbows. "Can you not sleep a ghrá?"

"No," she said with a sigh. "He seems more active than usual tonight."

Nuada sat up properly and arched a brow; he held his peace though. His wife was utterly convinced they were going to have another boy and he'd given up trying to remind her there was just as good a chance the baby would be a girl. Maybe even twins, he thought as he eyed her distended stomach. She'd assured him there was only the one in there but even though the elven mná ciallmhar and leigheas agreed with her, he still found it hard to believe. But then again, as Elfraine was fond of reminding him with such grating superbity - to his ears at least - what did men know of these matters?

"Would you like me to rub your back, mhuirnín?" he asked her now.

"Oh, yes please, Nuada," she answered gratefully. His massages usually helped ease the strain on her body, for a little while at least.

"I will stoke the fire first so you don't get cold." He threw back his side of several layers of thick, warm goose-down quilting, and got out of bed.

As he crossed over to the large stone fireplace, Elfraine admired the sway of his long, white-blonde hair and the ripple of his muscles. His habit of sleeping in nothing but his skin was one she particularly appreciated and also one she'd quickly adopted upon their marriage three years ago. A languorous, warm feeling started to spread through her before he'd so much as picked up the poker, and once he knelt down - his forearm braced against the fire surround as he stirred the embers back to life and added more kindling - the warmth became a melting heat.

God's Blood! Here she was, her baby several days past due, and the only thing she could think about was swiving her husband. She closed her eyes and tried to subdue the flare of lust which threatened to flame out of control. It had been nine long months since she'd found her release with him, since she'd had him inside her, and though he'd been with her almost every day and every night during that time, she'd missed him dreadfully. But after the heartache they'd suffered eighteen months ago, she wasn't going to take any chances with this baby no matter that the healers and wise women thought the situations entirely different. Though a small number of the older ones had worked some of the great acts of magic with na Fairtheoirí Dragan Mór in ancient times, there were none who knew for certain what effect the dragon magic would have on the pregnant human in whom it resided and, more importantly, on her unborn son should it decide to make its presence felt in the marriage bed as it liked to do every now and then.

The faint traces of a smile touched her lips as she thought about Nuada's reaction to her stammered, mumbling announcement nine months earlier which had basically equated to 'thank you but no thank you; I am pregnant now and I'm not going to make love to you for the next nine months.'

He'd been stunned for a moment and then he'd taken another moment to pick his words. "You are… pregnant?" he'd asked at last, the languor from their love-making completely vanished. "Just – just now?"

"Not more than two or three minutes since," she'd replied. "Or at least, I will be once the, um, necessary bits and pieces meet up."

"May I ask how you know?" He'd done his best to hide his disbelief but there'd been a tone in his voice all the same.

"Certainly, Nuada," she'd said. "I heard the music of angels as we, er… well you know what we just did!"

"I see," he'd remarked slowly, clearly not seeing anything at all. "And this, ah, music told you, did it?"

"Not exactly," she'd answered. "I've only just now worked out what it means."

He'd had no idea what she was talking about and so she had explained how she'd first heard the beautiful, ethereal chorus when their son, Ogma Lugh, or Lugh as they called him, had been conceived. Of course, at the time she hadn't known the meaning of it and had simply put it down to their lovemaking; after all, stranger things had happened thanks to the dragon magic. She'd heard the celestial harmony again just over two years ago - when they'd made the babe she later lost - and, as before, she'd been unaware of its import. It had only been after that third time, as they'd lain in each other's arms, still intimately joined in the ebbing tide of ecstasy, that she'd finally realised what the heavenly song meant. And knowing that and fearing what the dragon magic might do to a child in her womb – knowing what had happened once before to a longed-for life that was never to be – she'd told Nuada she was very sorry but she couldn't make love to him again, at least not properly, until after this baby was born.

His reaction to her words had only made her love him all the more. He'd stared at her for several long seconds, an unfathomable look in his eyes, and then he'd taken her in his arms and kissed her gently. When he'd lifted his head, he'd told her he could wait for her, and though he'd challenged her many times on her later assertions that the baby was a boy and that she most definitely wasn't going to have twins, he hadn't once questioned her decision to abstain from lovemaking until after their child was safely born.

Elfraine's lips twisted in a wry smile; the waiting had turned out to be harder than she'd expected. Throughout the whole of her pregnancy, her mind had turned with frustrating regularity to the physical – and for now, forbidden - pleasures of marriage. If it hadn't been for the terrifying thought of something happening to this baby, she suspected Nuada would have found himself tied to the bedposts for most of these last nine months. Unsurprisingly, that deliciously intriguing picture set her mind off down a well-worn path. She shook her head and quickly reined her imagination back in. Those sorts of notions hadn't plagued her during her first pregnancy to him. She supposed that having him with her this time round, and no longer facing such dangers as she had when she'd been pregnant with Lugh, meant there was more opportunity for her errant thoughts to go to work. Another sharp kick from the baby distracted her from her musings and she glanced down; everyone's waiting would soon be over.

Her gaze flickered back to Nuada. He finished putting some more logs on the glowing sticks of kindling and then whispered a few words of magic. The embers in the grate blazed into flaming life and in a matter of seconds, the fire was burning away merrily once more. He straightened up and turned to face her, and suddenly she was aching for him all over again. As he walked back towards the bed, she watched, transfixed, admiring his fluid grace and the play of shadows and light on the hard planes and chiselled lines of his body. "I've missed you, love," she burst out, the yearning clear in her voice.

"And I you, Elfraine." He stopped at the side of the bed and gazed down at her. He knew exactly what she meant; her feelings mirrored his own. For the first few weeks following her surprising announcement, he'd accepted her generous offer to see to his pleasure but he'd quickly found the experience lacking somehow – lonely, even - and ultimately less satisfying than it would have been had he been able to meet her needs in return. He'd quickly come to hate the sight of unfulfilled desire in her eyes and after those early weeks, he'd told her he would not only wait for her but he'd wait with her as well. She hadn't been happy about that and though he could see his words caused her much worry and uncertainty – understandable, thanks to both his cruel stupidity and his unforgivable hesitation before they'd married - he'd remained determined. He would take the time to court her instead, he'd told her, because it was something he had never done, at least, not properly. The soft smile she'd given him and the faint blush which had graced her cheeks told him she liked the idea even though she demurred at first.

"But Nuada," she'd said. "We already have Lugh and we're married now! And we have another child on the way. We've put more than one cart before our poor horse."

"Nevertheless, it is something I want to do," he'd told her firmly. And to his surprise, it was. He had never had much patience for the rituals of courtship, even with the other two women he'd once loved - Dihyā and before her, Éadaoin - but he quickly found that with Elfraine, it was easy. There was a special pleasure to be had from bringing a smile to her face or watching her eyes shine with delight and knowing he'd made her happy. He wondered that her first two idiots of husbands had never discovered it, and then he was selfishly glad they hadn't. As for her third husband… Nuada glanced away, not wanting her to see the fierce scowl on his face as he considered that murderous, treacherous miscreant.

Elfraine let out a soft gasp as the baby kicked yet again, and Nuada was distracted from his thoughts. Crouching down beside the bed, he watched with fascination as their unborn child wriggled and twisted beneath the tightly-stretched skin of her stomach. He laid his hand on her belly, right over the spot where the movements were most vigorous, and looked up with a quick grin when the babe pushed back.

Her heart lurched; seeing her husband this way, happy, carefree and relaxed, always had that effect on her, and she thought it one of the best sights she would ever see. It was all the more precious for its rarity. He only ever left off the weight of his responsibilities for their people and their new kingdom when he was alone with her and Lugh, or with his sister and her children. Though he'd thawed out somewhat towards Abraham, there remained a certain amount of reticence on Nuada's part and whilst she still held hopes of her husband being on better terms with her cousin one day, Elfraine was beginning to suspect such hopes would be forever in vain. Hal did seem to have a wicked genius for getting under the skin of his self-appointed elven nemesis, and too, she thought, there was the tangled knot that was Nuada, Hal and Éadaoin. It was always going to be a lot to ask of the proud elven king.

Elfraine couldn't help but return his smile now though. As she looked into her husband's warm, golden eyes, she realised that the baby had suddenly settled down and she glanced at Nuada's hand lying on her stomach. Perhaps his touch had done the trick. "Hmmm," she grumbled playfully. "So he pays attention to you but not me! That's hardly fair!"

"He – or she – is obviously a most perceptive child," Nuada teased as he stood back up. Bracing one hand on the headboard behind her, he leaned over and pressed his lips to hers. He'd only meant it to be a quick kiss but Elfraine wound her arms around his neck and caught hold of him. As her mouth moved over his, desire, so long denied, stirred restlessly and though he wanted to enjoy this one small thing for a little while longer, he reluctantly broke off their kiss before it went too far. In what had become the exquisite torture of the last nine months, he'd soon learnt that the point of no return was quickly reached and he now knew better than to push the limits. Elfraine gave a small, involuntary moan of protest which sorely tested his resolve and, pressing his forehead to hers, he drew a deep breath. By the Gods! This baby couldn't come soon enough! He straightened up and offered her his arm. "It won't be long now, a ghrá," he said, his voice husky with need.

"I know," she agreed, her own voice less than steady. Placing her hand in his, she accepted his help to kneel up. "It's just that it… it's been hard." She turned around to face the heavy tapestry which adorned the cold, stone wall behind the oaken headboard. Folding her arms along the top of the sturdy piece of wood, she rested her head in them. The mattress dipped as Nuada climbed onto the bed and knelt behind her.

"For more than one reason, mhuirnín, I know," he murmured as he swept her braid forward over her shoulder. He leaned past her and picked up a small, spun-glass bottle from the table beside the bed.

After removing the silver stopper, he put a few drops of sweet almond oil in the palm of his hand and then sat back on his heels. In addition to abstaining from lovemaking, she'd had to take particular care with her health these past nine months and though he'd been with her through most of this pregnancy, the demands of ruling a kingdom had meant he couldn't always be by her side to watch over her and protect her. He smoothed the oil on her lower back and then made two fists and started to gently knead the flesh on either side of her spine with his knuckles.

The one thing he never wanted to see again was that terrible look on her face… that look of sick realisation which came when the spirit had been crushed and when hope had died. He'd seen such a look three times before and that was three times too many. The first had been almost seventy years ago, when he'd ripped out her heart and trampled it into the ground. He'd lashed out in cold, hard fury, meaning to hurt her, and he'd succeeded beyond his wildest dreams. Even now, all these years later and despite the fact that she'd forgiven him, he still felt a sharp stab of shame whenever he thought about his deliberate, callous act of cruelty.

The next occasion on which he'd seen such a look had been shortly afterwards, when she'd made the awful discovery that she had never stood a chance of winning her battle with time. The hope she'd nurtured for more than two hundred years was simply a carefully-crafted illusion, and she and Fortune had counted for nothing beyond their utility in a greater struggle. He'd been unable to do anything about that except hold her tightly in her grief.

Nuada's movements slowed as he thought about the third time he'd seen that look in her eyes; it had been only a year and a half ago, when a moment's inattention and an unthinking misstep had resulted in tragedy...

He was half-way down the long corridor leading from their private rooms when he saw Elfraine at the head of the stairs. A smile curved his lips and he paused to watch her for a moment. She was seven months gone with their second child, and glowing with happiness and vitality. She had realised she was pregnant a little over four months earlier and the memory of her telling him was one he would hold in his heart forever. He also remembered being a little surprised that the possibility hadn't occurred to him before then; he'd already learnt in the brief time they'd been married that her menses were as regular as the moon, and he realised it had been far longer than a month since she'd last bled. Although the dragon magic kept her body in strict balance in every other respect, it seemed it had no power when it came to the cycle of fertility.

As he was lost in thought, a quick movement across the way caught his eye. Their son, Lugh, suddenly bolted out of the corridor on the opposite wing and on spying his mother, made straight for her. Though only just over eighteen months' old, he was already swift and steady on his feet. Elfraine had just let go of the banister and was about to step off the top stair. Nuada could tell, even at this distance, that she was in a daydream and hadn't noticed their toddler. "Elfraine! Lugh!" He started forward but even as he spoke, the wee boy squealed with joy and barrelled into his mother, giving Elfraine a fright. Taking an instinctive step back, she lost her footing and cried out as she tumbled down the hard stone staircase, her hands grasping at thin air. Nuada sprinted forward and was at the landing in an instant but it was too late; she was already in a heap at the bottom, twisted and bent and with her neck lying at a crooked angle. Lugh, not really understanding anything except that Mamaí had fallen over and would need a kiss better, tried to go to her. Nuada quickly scooped him up and pressed his son's face into his shoulder to shield him from the distressing sight of his mother's broken body.

The dragon magic took over almost straight away, however, and a few shimmering seconds later, Elfraine was sitting up and shaking her head in confusion. She was back to how she'd been on the day she'd become immortal over four hundred and sixty years earlier… and on that day, she had most definitely not been pregnant. She glanced down, her hands going reflexively to her stomach, and then she desperately sought her husband's eyes, as if looking for some sort of assurance that what she'd feared throughout her pregnancy with Lugh had not actually come to pass with this baby now. All Nuada could do was stare back helplessly. Her clothes suddenly looked too big for her and she was as slender as she had been seven months ago; there was not the slightest sign that only moments beforehand she'd been pregnant and ripe with life… except perhaps for the devastated look on her face. He was certain his own had a similar expression on it.

Though his legs felt leaden he forced himself to move. Still carrying Lugh in one arm, he descended the stairs and helped Elfraine up. He wrapped her tightly in his other arm and held her close as she sobbed on his chest. The fading rays of the late afternoon sun streamed in through the small windows on the wall high above and they stood there in the soft golden light, clinging to each other as they tried to come to terms with the terrible loss they'd just suffered.

She had told him of her fear about what the dragon magic might do to Lugh when she'd been pregnant with their son, and of the care she'd had to take both to conceal it from her hofðingi – some of whom had wanted her unborn child dead - and to not sustain an injury which would awaken it. Until now though, Nuada hadn't fully appreciated that fear and nor had he realised just how fine a line she'd had to walk in the long years they'd spent apart... mere months for her but long enough anyway, he supposed. He hugged her even more tightly and vowed never to make that mistake again.

It was Lugh's small fist tugging at her hair and an uncertain "Mamaí?" which finally dragged Elfraine from her sorrow. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," she said tearfully as she raised her head and looked at him. "I – I hurt my knee but it – it's not so sore now." Her fingers curled into Nuada's shirt as she tried to stifle her anguish, for their son's sake. Lugh, bless him, took her at her word.

"Poor Mamaí," he said sorrowfully whilst patting her hair; it did hurt to fall down but Mamaí said her knee was not so sore now. He brightened up at the thought and started to wriggle in an attempt to get down from his father's arm.

"Can – can I have a kiss first?" asked Elfraine. "To make it all better?"

"Yes, Mamaí!" His little face was suddenly wreathed in smiles, and he leaned over and mashed his lips to hers in a wet, awkward kiss. Elfraine couldn't help but hug him and he bore her embrace patiently for a few seconds before renewing his efforts to escape from the grasp of both his parents now.

By the time he'd noticed his new sister wasn't in Mamaí's tummy any more – for Elfraine had been certain the baby was a girl – almost a whole day had passed, and so when Nuada gently explained to his son that something had gone wrong and there wouldn't be a baby sister, at least, not this time, Mamaí falling down and hurting her knee was an entirely separate thing as far as Lugh was concerned. He said to Dadaí it was sad he wouldn't have a sister this time but then he cheered up and told Dadaí that he and Mamaí could make him another one soon.

… …

A brief smile touched Nuada's lips as he thought about Lugh's innocent words of encouragement: "Dadaí, Mamaí, make nuvva." He and Elfraine had done exactly that… eventually. For a long while after losing the baby, she hadn't had the heart to try for another and so he'd covered her in a magic to prevent conception. However, just over nine months ago she'd asked him to remove the charm and not long afterwards, she'd made her announcement. And having seen the catastrophic effect the dragon magic could have on an unborn child, he'd wholeheartedly agreed with every one of the precautions she'd wanted to take in respect of this pregnancy. It had meant she'd led a closely circumscribed life over the last nine months, and he knew she sometimes chaffed at the self-imposed restrictions, but the waiting was almost over and they would be meeting their new son - or daughter - soon.

"Have you given any more thought to what this baby's name might be?" he asked her now. His hands stilled on her back as he waited for her reply. When she'd insisted the child was going to be a boy, he'd suggested 'Balor' as a name and, assuming she was right, he had hoped to finally lay the ghosts of the past to rest with that choice. However, she'd no sooner agreed to his suggestion than she suddenly changed her mind.

"No," she'd said, frowning slightly and shaking her head. " 'Balor' doesn't… it doesn't feel right. I think this child has another name… though I – I have no idea what." She'd thought about it for a bit longer and then her face had cleared. "I expect we'll probably find out when he's born." And that was as much as she could say about her 'feeling'.

Every once in a while, Nuada would ask her if she knew any more about what the baby should be called and each time she would tell him 'no'. Her answer was the same now and she was as convinced as ever that 'Balor' wasn't it. Perhaps she was right, he thought to himself as he unfurled his fists and laid his palms flat on the delicate curve of her shoulders. Perhaps there were some things in this world which were beyond the intuition of even elven kings, and which only women could divine. He lightly caressed her smooth, satiny skin before he started to work on the tense knots he could feel beneath his hands.

"Oh, thank you, love. That feels wonderful," Elfraine moaned as his warm, deft fingers continued to ease the tension in her muscles.

Leaning his head to the side, he met her gaze. "It is my pleasure, mhuirnín." He paused and bent forward to place a kiss on her upturned cheek, and for a brief, delicious moment the hard heat of his naked skin pressed into the soft curves of her body before he pulled back and resumed his ministrations.

Elfraine shivered and closed her eyes. It cost her some effort but she resisted the temptation to lean back into him and turned her mind instead to all that had to be done over the next two weeks. Tonight had seen off the first of the season's celebrations, the Midwinter's Eve feast, and between now and early January there would be the daily – and nightly – round of activities, both in their own and in neighbouring kingdoms, which would mark the turning of the days and the start of the slow, hard climb out of winter.

More importantly, the festivities would also provide the opportunity to further secure their place in this new realm by forging connections and cementing alliances with those other kingdoms and peoples who now shared it. Although Nuada had been the first to discover it, in his quest for the four treasures of his people, the Tuatha Dé, others had soon followed, each bringing with them their own traditions and beliefs… and their own desire for autonomy. It could have been a recipe for disaster and discord but by and large, the Fae had sorted themselves out in a relatively civilised fashion. Elfraine couldn't help but think that had it been disparate groups of her own kind - of humans - they wouldn't have managed the thing half so well for all the good intentions they might have had… good intentions which still counted for nothing, at least as far as her husband was concerned.

The few human stragglers who were able to escape the infernal chaos of the old realm and cross safely to the New Lands were allowed to remain but Nuada had only very reluctantly agreed to let them do so and then only because she'd pleaded the case for permitting it. She'd been proven right so far in her trust of those of her kind who'd fled the hell on earth which they'd helped create but she knew human nature and she knew her luck wouldn't last. Sooner or later she was going to be forced to honour her promise to her husband and deal with someone who, to the detriment of others, wanted far more than their fair share. She could only hope that day was a long way off because the punishment he'd prescribed was a harsh one: either execution or deportation back to an almost certain death in the old realm, assuming a transgressor could survive the return crossing. Thanks to her own experiences on the scaffold all those centuries ago, she disliked the thought of having to set her seal to such an order but persuading the elven king to agree to a lesser punishment was the one thing she'd been unable to do. She understood the reasoning behind his edict – after all, in the old realm his people had been all but crowded out of existence because of human greed – but still, his punishment for the vice in this new realm struck her as overly hard.

Another, smaller kick from the baby claimed her attention and she gladly set aside her concerns about something which had, after all, not yet come to pass. She glanced down at her stomach. This movement felt a little different to the others, almost like a piece of elastic snapping, and she wondered what on earth their new son was doing in there but before she could think about it any further, she was distracted by Nuada.

He'd been eying the smooth, creamy curve of her neck for some moments now. Given how much she liked to be kissed there, it probably wasn't the wisest thing to do however he found himself unable to resist the temptation and he leaned forward and pressed his lips to the enticing sweep of skin. His hands slid under her arms, almost of their own volition, and came round to cup her full, firm breasts. Before he knew it, he was stroking her nipples with the pads of his thumbs and coaxing them into tight, jutting peaks.

Elfraine moaned at the feel of his warm mouth and heated breath on her skin, and lifted her head. Instinct took over and she couldn't help herself. Holding onto the headboard, she pressed forward into his wonderful, teasing hands whilst slowly circling her hips against his growing hardness.

A flare of lust, hot and urgent, nearly knocked the breath out of him and he started to rock against her backside, moving in counterpoint to her rhythm. She was ripe and bursting with the life they'd made together and all he could think about was sheathing himself in her tight, silky depths and loving her in every way possible. Some small part of his mind told him he should stop but it had been too long and in the space of a heartbeat, he was too far gone.

It dimly occurred to Elfraine that they'd just rather foolishly breached the barriers of self-control but Nuada was her husband, her lover, her mate – the father of her children – and she wanted him with such fierce urgency, she was sure she'd go up in flames if she didn't have him. A melting warmth washed through her body and her hands tightened on the headboard as she made one last effort to bring her desire back under control.

They had no warning of what happened next.

"God's blood!"

"By the Gods!"

Human and elf swore in unison and two heads quickly looked down.

Elfraine's melting warmth had just become a veritable flood. Her waters had finally broken, she realised, and the earlier sensation of elastic snapping was suddenly explained. "Oh, Nuada!" she exclaimed, the excitement clear in her voice. "It's happening! He's coming!"

"What?" He looked slightly confused.

"The baby's coming!" She almost squealed with delight. In the next instant though, she was crying out in pain and she let loose with a vicious curse which saw Nuada hastily drop his hands from her body and sit back on his heels. The contractions had begun and unlike Fortune's birth and then Lugh's, there was no gradual build-up; they hit hard and fast from the very first moment and she suspected this labour was not going to be a long one.

Nuada leapt off the bed and looked down at her. "What is wrong?" he asked, a frown marring his face. She was kneeling in the sodden bedclothes with a pinkish lump of mucous lying between her knees.

"Nothing!" she gasped as another contraction twisted her innards; it swiftly passed. "Everything is happening as it should be!" She tried to remember how she'd suppressed the dragon magic when she'd given birth to Lugh but failed miserably. She wasn't even sure now that she had suppressed it; there'd been too many other things going on and at the time, it had seemed like the least of her worries. "Damn!" she swore.

"But…"

The next crashing wave of pain sliced through Elfraine and she suddenly lost all patience with her husband. "Get the bloody midwife!" she snapped, cutting off whatever it was he'd been about to say.

"Very well!" He answered quickly enough but he continued to stand there, staring at her; he wasn't at all sure things were 'happening as they should be'. Though he'd been with her when Lugh was born, he'd been otherwise occupied with fighting off two of the three Álfar hofðingi who'd wanted to kill his son, and so hadn't exactly had the opportunity to take note of what was going on with Elfraine and the baby. Another feral shriek of pain startled him; it sounded like it had been ripped from the very depths of her being.

"Now! You lumpish, clay-brained dog's arse!" she snarled when she could finally speak again.

He was finally galvanised into action.

"Nuada!" she gasped, almost doubling over as both realisation and the next contraction struck. The shuddering, sickening wave passed. "You might want to…" She looked round. "Put some… clothes... on first…" Her voice trailed off as she stared at the empty space where her husband had just stood. He was no doubt already in the hallway outside the elven healers' quarters and probably knocking on their doors at this very moment. Another nauseating wave of pain gripped her body and all concern for Nuada's modesty vanished in its wake.

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References:

Na Tailte Nua de Bethmoora: (Irish Gaelic) The New Lands of Bethmoora.

A ghrá: (Irish Gaelic) my love (when speaking to a person).

Mná ciallmhar: (Irish Gaelic) wise women.

Leigheas: (Irish Gaelic) Healers.

Mhuirnín: (Irish Gaelic) sweetheart.

Na Fairtheoirí Dragan Mór: (Irish Gaelic) The Great Dragon Sentinels.

Ogma: (Irish Gaelic) Often considered a deity; champion of Nuada and then Lugh. Often appears as a triad with Lugh and the Dagda – the trí dée dána (three gods of skill).

Lugh: (Irish Gaelic) Irish deity, hero and High King of the distant past (succeeded Nuada); known for his skill with the spear.

Dihyā: O/C inspired by and based (very) loosely on Daya Ult Yenfaq Tajrawt (c. early 7th century AD – c. late 7th century AD). A Berber religious and military leader. Al-Kāhinat (the female priestess-soothsayer) was the nickname used by her opponents because of her reputed ability to foresee the future.

Éadaoin: (Irish Gaelic – see also Étaín) Pronounced 'AY-deen'. Figure from Irish mythology, the heroine of Tochmarc Étaín (The Wooing of Étaín). Identified as a sun goddess.

Hofðing: (Old Norse) hofðingi pl. Chieftain.

Álfar: (Norse mythology) Light Elves.

Mamaí: (Irish Gaelic) Mummy (pronounced MAH-mee).

Dadaí: (Irish Gaelic) Daddy (pronounced DAH-dee).

Tuatha Dé: (Irish mythology) "People of the Gods". Also called "the Ever-Living Ones" (implied by áes sídhe – Ir. "people of the sídh".)

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First posted: here on fanfiction, 16th October 2013