My brother was coronated the last week of November. King Zatheon II. Every thing seemed so much different. I hardly ever got to talk to Zatheon anymore.

Winter seemed to go by very quickly for reasons I don't understand. I had nobody to talk to, I was stressed out, I was so pissed off at Zant that I could punch a baby in the face repeatedly, not my own of course. I knew that as winter would draw to a close, the day the baby would come was near. That day came on March 11th.

I woke up that morning like and did my everyday routine of getting dressed and fixing my hair. I went to breakfast and then did my own thing. It was still really cold, so I kept inside. I ate lunch with my sister, which was horrible. She's still a child. I can't believe she'll be nineteen. Also, it was during lunch that I started to have almost regular pains.

It was around dinner time that my pains started to really set in. I tried to ignore, but it was hard. I was to eat dinner that night with my brother and a whole bunch of other important people. It was about getting him married. Every one decided that he was too old to not be married and be king. It was during the eating portion of dinner when they got really bad, I could hardly eat, and I certainly couldn't listen to the conversation and make my thoughts about the whole situation.

Zatheon was listening to what everybody had to say when I interrupted.

"King Zatheon."

He looked over at me.

"I am not feeling well. May I retire to my chamber."

"Yes, you may."

I nodded and stood up and started heading for the door.

"Midna," he called after me. I turned to him, "Feel better."

I smiled and left the room and ran to my bed chamber and laid down on the bed.

It seemed like hours had gone by, and the pains were only getting worse and worse. When I thought that it couldn't get any worse, I grabbed my pillow and screamed into it as the next one came. I knew that the baby was coming right then.

I tried to remember back to my son's birth and what they made me do. All I remember was I thought that I was going to die.

I crawled over to the bed post in the bottom right corner of my room and grabbed onto it and held onto it for dear life.

It was very hard not to scream, but I knew people would worry if they heard me screaming.

The pains seemed to worsen with each passing minute. I honestly felt like dying. When I thought it could get no worse, it all stopped. My whole body slumped against the bed post. I tried to catch my breath, and I almost forgot about the baby. I looked down and all I saw was its head and torso. It wasn't crying, which I was kind of glad, because I think it would've been very bad if someone heard a baby's cry in my room.

I picked the baby up and went into the bathroom. I set it on the floor and I felt an overwhelming feeling of victory, as the baby was, in fact, a girl.

I remembered this part of my son being born. They immediately cut the umbilical cord and the midwife stuck her finger in his mouth and they put him in a blanket and they took him away. I almost didn't see that he was a boy, they took him away so fast.

I had no idea how to cut the cord, so I figured it would be easy enough to get her to cry. I stuck my finger in her mouth, and I took about half a minute before she responded. There was a loud choking sound followed by a cry.

The after birth came next and it was so disgusting, I thought I would throw up.

I left her on the floor crying and I got my razor and cleaned it with soap and water and then found a place close to her abdomen and cut the umbilical cord. I took the after birth with and threw it in the fire in my room. It made the room smell awful so I retreated to the bathroom.

I got a towel and set her on it and got a wash cloth and got it wet with warm water. I cleaned her up. Definately not one of the best things I've ever done considering she had blood on her. She was extremely tiny. She didn't have a lot of hair but the hair that she did have was very obviously blonde.

When I was done washing her, I wrapped her in the towel and went to my room, which didn't smell nearly as bad anymore, and laid down on the bed. I couldn't stop admiring every thing about her. She was perfect, but I questioned whether or not she would live. The Twili almost seemed to be a completely different speices compared to the Hylians. I knew I was worrying for a stupid reason, we were just as much human as they were.

She kept putting her face against my breast and it was odd. I didn't know how to feed a child. I never fed my son, so I had no idea how to. I just gave it my best shot and she didn't object.

I had no idea what to name her. I had always wanted to name my daughter after my mother, who was named Quadna, but I wanted to her to have an original name. Afterall, she was the first half-Twili half-Hylian person ever born, a Twilian. A few names came to mind, such as Ferren, Anassa, Fanchon, Jenevia, Wynette, and Azadi, but they none of them were good enough. Then I remember, when I was fourteen, I read a book and the main character was name Nnamdi. Never in my life have I heard of a person call Nnamdi, so that's what I named her. Nnamdi.