Weaving the Threads of Fate
Ch. 1 Small Beginnings
"One more big push, Your Majesty," smiled the old goblin crone, looking up at the tired but still radiant face of Queen Marin. The midwife adjusted the Queen's leg so that her thigh was resting against Oona's body, while her calf was draped over Oona's shoulder. It had been a long, rough labor, but the end was quite literally in sight. Glancing down, Oona hid a frown. She should see hair by now, but there was just a green glow, yet when she felt, she could feel the baby's head. After nearly three days of laboring, the High Queen was reaching the end of her endurance. For her safety and that of the babe, they needed to get the child born. "Just brace your leg on ole Oona, take a deep breath and when you feel the pains start again, you just give a big ole grunt and shift that lil prince out into the world."
Panting, the petite blonde on the bed shook her head, the fine linen chemise stuck to her body from the the hours of painful labor. "I can't," she moaned, as the muscles over her swollen belly began to ripple with the labor spasms again. "So…tired," Queen Marin sighed, shutting her eyes and leaning her head against her husband.
"Come on, love," murmured the king, eyeing the worried expression on Oona's face. "I know you're tired and you can rest as soon as the babe has had his first breath. You're doing great, darling, just one more push," he said, his lips brushing across the exhausted queen's forehead, while his crystal blue eyes watched the rippling muscles over her stomach.
Queen Marin shifted in the sweat soaked sheets of the bed, wrapping her arm over her husband's thigh and gripping his hand tightly, pulling energy from him. Looking up, she stared into the blue eyes of the man she loved with all her heart, then lifted her hand and stroked the feathery ebony strands back from his cheek.
"Please, love," he nearly begged, his crystal eyes betraying his fears. "You're so close now."
Squeezing his hand, Marin pushed against the old midwife, a loud grunt filling the queen's solar. Barely breathing, she continued to push, the grunt giving way to a scream of agony as the contraction continued. Hearing their beloved queen scream, the goblins lurking throughout the castle threw back their heads and wailed along with her, their hearts feeling her pain and fear. As suddenly as the scream began, it ended and there was silence – and with it, every creature in the Labyrinthian Kingdom listened, waiting for the cry they were sure would come.
But it didn't.
Marin collapsed weakly against her husband, her body a limp rag of exhaustion. King Bran looked from his darling wife to the midwife's troubled expression, his own expression remaining guarded as kissed Marin's ashen forehead. "Well done, my darling love. You did it," he said gently. Looking at Oona, he murmured, "Why has he not cried?"
Laying out a towel, Oona shook her head, picking up the baby as her assistant leaned over her shoulder, only to cover her mouth and back away in horror. Seeing her terrified face, Bran leant forward, stunned to see his child wrapped in a shimmering caul that glowed faint green with each beat of his heart. "By the Gods, Oona…what's wrong with him?"
Oona ignored the question as she gently laid the babe on the towel, just as a rush of watery crimson poured onto the bed. The queen gave a weak moan, her hand falling limply from her husband's.
"Here, take the baby!" Oona gasped, thrusting the towel wrapped baby at the High King. "She must hold him…now…before it is too late!" she insisted, as the confused king took the baby.
King Bran looked down at the small bundle, while Oona barked orders to her staff, the flow of blood from the queen staining the bedclothes deep red, and continuing to spread. Propping his wife in his arms, he helped her hold the small baby, who had yet to make a sound. "Hang on, my love," Bran now begged, cradling his limp wife in his arms as he held her hands around their son. "Please, darling, he'll need you. We both will."
The orders given by Oona became more urgent as the queen's complexion grew more ashen, her skin soon nearly as pale as her hair. Within the glowing caul, the baby became restless, shifting as if trying to nudge the limp hands of his mother to hold him. Unable to stand it any longer, Bran reached forward and with one long nail, hooked the top of the caul, tearing it. A rush of fluid poured from inside, drenching the queen and king, as the young prince threw his head back and wailed angrily. Bran waved his hand over his wife, her wet linen shift disappearing, leaving her nude in his arms. Shifting the child slightly in his arms, he smiled when the angry prince found a nipple and latched on, sucking greedily. Watching his newborn son feed, the High King prayed to the Gods that his wife would survive, while all around the room, the healers and attendants held their breath
Throughout the room, there was silence, as Oona administered the last of her healing herbs, everyone watching the queen and the prince. After several minutes, the little prince let loose the nipple and opened his eyes, peering at his father with one crystal blue and one nearly black eye, before giving out a cry that set the goblins off once more – the goblin mourning wail carrying over the kingdom, initiated by their own prince, as the last beat of his mother's heart still fluttered against his cheek.
The tiny prince continued his mournful cry, a cry that seemed to carry with it all of the sadness of those who had gone before. But as he howled, a strange green glow began deeper within the caul. Puzzled, Bran reached over, gently tearing the shimmering bag further, to reveal a sparkling green crystal the size of a small plum. He glanced up at Oona who was watching with interest, her lined face cast in awe.
"A soul crystal," she breathed, looking from the crystal to the High King. "The child has spun his own soul crystal."
As they watched, the crystal began to pulse, as if with a heartbeat all its own, the glow rising and falling in time to the gentle hum. Abruptly the tiny prince stopped wailing. He looked down at the small crystal, then curled himself around it, as if drawing comfort from the gentle hum and soft glowing warmth. With a tired yawn, he closed his eyes, his little body still wrapped around the green crystal – his soul crystal, which held the thread of fate that would become his love, his destiny… his soul mate.
Author's Note: Yes, I've started another one. This idea came to me this morning while I was driving geekling to school, so I had to act on it. I'm not giving up on my other WIPs, in fact, this one will butt up against 'Life with the Goblin King' - in many ways, it is a 'prequel' to the whole 'Labyrinth' story. From here on out the story will be more 'perky'. I promise. :) Next chapter of '50 Shades' will be up sometime this week.