In which Buri contemplates motherhood. I thought about this when I was re-reading Squire and realized Raoul had been bugged his whole life for not producing an heir and suddenly now that he was married to Buri, all eyes would be on her, naturally. Sadly we don't know if our lovely Mrs. Pierce intends for them to have children or not. I'd like to think so.
When Thayet announced she was expecting her first child, Buri had felt both terrified and betrayed. She had sworn to protect her lady with her life, had known Thayet since they were small and shared in many adventures and experiences, all of them together. What Thayet was going through, Buri could not experience with her. She wouldn't have a child growing inside of her for nine months, wouldn't have an adoring husband next to her to make sure her every need was fulfilled and wouldn't have to endure the pains of pregnancy. Buri could only watch as Thayet moved from morning sickness, to an ever growing belly and finally to labor. She waited impatiently outside of Thayet's birthing chambers, not trusting herself to watch her queen writhe in agony for hours. From this danger she could not protect her lady. Buri only listened to Thayet's screams and moans though the door with a set jaw and watched Jon pace up and down in front of the door. When Roald was swaddled and safely in Thayet's loving arms, Buri could not decide if she liked this little brat that had the full love and devotion of his mother.
When Alanna announced she was expecting her first child, Buri had felt betrayed again. Buri knew Alanna wanted children but had bided her time until it was right. Buri watched Alanna go through the many stages of pregnancy that Thayet had gone through many times before. Buri watched her friend grow slower and more careful in their training sessions until Alanna called it quits. She didn't know where Alanna had given birth, but Buri was sure that the Lioness' child would have his mother's fierce and enduring adoration the moment he was born.
Later on, it shocked Buri to see her two closet friends swap maternity tips instead of weapons advice and could not help but feel excluded; especially when Cythera came to chat and the three mothers would unintentionally leave Buri out in the cold.
She felt much more herself and free when riding with the Riders. Here she only had to deal with occasional squabble within the ranks and a good old fashioned, no strings attached bandit hunt. Her child was her bow and her partner the open road.
She hadn't thought it possible. For two years Raoul and her had tried and Buri had thought that the gods just didn't mean for this particular K'miri to have children. She didn't know how many times she had lit candles to the Great Mother Goddess or to the Horse Lords to somehow bless her with a child. It had all been in private of course. No need to alarm others that she was potentially barren. Better to let them think that she was in love with her roaming lifestyle then to admit to some failure.
Month after month her moon blood came and went. Once it had been late. Buri could still remember that secret feel of exhilaration when during the appointed week her monthly had been absent. She had almost run to tell Raoul but he was in a meeting with his captains and that would have been unprofessional. The next morning Buri woke up to the sticky wetness of blood on her thighs. Her heart sank. She didn't mention any of this to Raoul.
Thayet had passed a few remarks on Buri's lack of children. It had been in jest but Buri felt it cut deep to her bones. Raoul promised her that he would always love her even if no children were to come and would never think to put her aside. If it was in the god's will for no children to be born to them then so be it.
Buri traced the rounded contours of her swollen stomach. Was that really a small person growing inside of her? She still was having difficulty accepting it as if it were a fragile dream that might shatter when you awoke. She was showered with advice from Thayet, Alanna and friends from the Riders yet no one could give her advice as to how you came to love your child or what would happen if you miscarried. Why would no one think of that yet insist on talking about swollen feet or leaking milk?
With child bearing years drawing to an end Buri knew she couldn't afford a miscarriage. But yet what if it happened? How was she supposed to grieve, to live with herself knowing that her would-be-child had died before it had come into this world? How was she supposed to face Raoul and tell him their child was no more?
And if no miscarriage happened and she did give birth with no mishaps, then when was she supposed to come to love her child? Was she supposed to love it as it gave her stretch marks and morning sickness and made her stomach even larger with each month? Or when she finally held her child in her arms for the first time, after hours of pushing and sweating and cursing? Was it alright to not love it immediately but come to love it as she watched it grow?
And what if she somehow never managed to love her child in the same manner Thayet and Alanna loved their children? Would Buri be distant and cold, like her own mother? What if couldn't manage to love her child at all, through no fault of its own? And yet what if one day she did come to love her child, only to find out it didn't love her? How could a child not love their mother unless their mother was a woman unfit to be called so?
Buri cried silent tears in the dead of night as Raoul slumbered next to her. She wouldn't want to burden her husband with unnecessary worry about what ifs.
She thought listening to Thayet give birth might give her some semblance of what she would have to go through to give birth to her own child. But Buri was unprepared.
Years of training suddenly had no meaning as she begun to push. It hurt! It seared like fire and she heard herself scream and sob, and thought that nothing in her life had caused her so much distress like this. Was it all the same for every woman? Did all mothers yearn for this to be over so they might escape this hell? Why did it have to be so painful, to bring another life into the world?
She felt herself go faint and with a last shout she pushed and all went black. She awoke to Raoul hovering over her, pale and concerned. The poor man obviously had been fretting nonsensibly over her. There was a newfound concern now, and it wasn't for her husband. Buri feared for the worst when Raoul hugged her and her child was not in her arms.
Yet when the midwife placed a blanket swaddled bundle in her arms, Buri felt relief beyond anything she could imagine and let out a small breath. She didn't feel an over-whelming sense of love or an on-rushing wave of motherly devotion like she heard would happen. It was a fierce desire to protect and to cherish that came forth. The love and devotion to her child, the feelings that she thought she didn't think herself possible to feel, had been there all along. She had just been too afraid to give in and admit it to herself. She never wanted to distance herself from this small little person. She wanted it hold it close to her and let it know that everything would be alright, that she would always love it no matter how much time passed.
"A son." Raoul whispered in her ear, his voice cracking. Horse lords above; was he crying? "We have a son."
"Yes, we do." She whispered back, tears blurring her own eyes. At any other point, she would have chided herself for crying.
"What should we name him?"
Buri answered with a name that had flitted on her lips for weeks now.
"We shall call him Evrouin."
My most precious Evrouin. How long I've waited for you to arrive…
So what did you think? I liked this idea of Buri and motherhood. I'm not really sure if I'm a 100% happy with it but I'd love to hear your opinions.