"My Lady you must push!" A midwife firmly informed the noble Lady in the bed, her tone disregarding their difference in status.

The woman in the bed was breathing heavy, her face lined heavily with the pain of a long labour. She pushed again, letting loose a great cry of pain, this child was too large for her! The words of the midwife and the other female servant in the room did little to soothe her, but the damp cloth that the servant dabbed on her face and her body made her feel a little better. She cluched at the servant hands, grinding her bones together as she pushed again and again and again.

A door opened up, revealing a stressed looking noble woman. She was beside the bed quickly, removing the the cloth from the servants hand and started the chore herself. "Igraine my dear, it's almost over," she spoke quietly, trying to calm the panicked woman, using her free hand to pet the womans fiery hair.

As the midwife demanded her to push more, Igraine let loose another pained scream. After that there was silence and all the women held their breath. The few moments of silence seemed to drag for hours, but the shrill cry of the newborn baby broke that silence and the joy of the few ladies in the room could be felt. The servant let go of Igraine's hand and ran to the door to get her husband.

"Thank you Nimue," Igraine murmered, gently holding her son to her chest. Her skin was slowly becoming paler by the second.

"Igraine...," Nimue continued petting her hair.

"Igraine!" This time a mans voice could be heard, her husband had entered the room.

"We have a son Uther," Igraine's voice was quieter than before. "What will you name him?"

"Arthur, he is to be called Arthur" Uther spoke firmly, gazing down at his son, touching his cheek lightly with a calloused finger.

Igraine held her son in her arms, gazing down, no recognition yet, but there was an unconditional love there, in those wide, innocent blue eyes. She touched the damp blonde hair and ran her finger over the tiny hand. In a show of strength in a newborn, Arthur grasped at her finger. She smiled weakly, this was her little Arthur.

The midwife stood by, patiently looking Igraine over for any signs of trouble with the afterbirth. Unfortunately, she quickly realised that Igraine was bleeding far to much. "My Lord, I must ask you to leave, Milady, please give the baby to the milk nurse he needs to be fed," she kept her voice even and level.

Uther left, but told the servant in the corner - the same one to hold Igraines hand - to keep him updated.

Nimue still sat beside Igraine, looking worriedly at the midwife, searching for answers.

The midwife answered without a prompt, "Shes bleeding out, I've seen it before and I cannot do much to stop it. There are herbs that will help but I fear the long labour put to much strain on her body. Poor girl, I don't think she'll make it."

Nimue sighed deeply. Nothing could be done for her friend Igraine, not even magic could save her now. It was after all, a life for a life.

A/N - Well shit. This came out of no where. If anyone wants to know, the little description I gave of Igraine was that from The Mists of Avalon. Good book, and a good movie.