~Here I am, this is me~
I hath returned!
**Please read the notes at the end of the chapter!
Arslan hadn't expected the sudden urge to push, but obeyed it regardless. It was strange, how her body took control the way it did- making it abundantly clear what she was to do.
The near relief that washed through her as she bore down was indescribable; part of her had feared that, as she engaged her muscles to actively push the child out, the pain would increase. And yet, as she sucked in a tight breath and continued to push, it felt right, like her body was rewarding her for it.
That didn't stop the unbearable pain of the contraction itself, however. Staying her voice was getting harder and harder, and she swallowed a groan before it could escape.
When it ended, she almost collapsed onto her front. The strain was taking its toll on her already-taxed body, and she just knew that the next few days would be spent sore and lethargic.
But it will all be worth it, she reminded herself, falling back onto her knees and hanging her head as she panted heavily. Elam was rubbing at her lower back and she sent him a grateful look.
Soon I'll be able to hold my… my child. My very own.
Both Farangis and Hayal were kneeling on the bed in front of her now, keeping enough distance not to be crowding but close enough to be of aid. Hayal leaned forward and brushed a wet cloth over her brow, the cool temperature feeling heavenly against her flushed skin.
Arslan expected Farangis to launch into instructions on what to do now that she'd reached this stage of labor, but the woman said nothing, face calmly blank. At the girl-king's questioning look, Farangis offered a small smile.
"You're doing fine, Highness."
She said nothing more, and Arslan was too tired to worry over the lack of direction. If all she had to do was whatever she felt the urge to do, she would be fine- she'd apparently been doing it right thus far, after all.
I can do this. I can do this. If I can lead an army to victory, I can do something as easy as-
As if to specifically prove that assessment wrong, another pain arose rather suddenly, radiating throughout her entire core and forcing a gasp from her mouth. This one was particularly strong.
She started falling forward onto her hands again, but two sets of hands held her shoulders and encouraged her to stay upright. They then coaxed her to stand upon her knees. A whine broke free, to her chagrin, but she didn't fight them; instead one of her arms wound around Elam's neck for support while the other cradled her stomach protectively.
The child pushed harshly against her pelvis, opening it wider. With each passing second, her pushes moved it slowly downward. The pressure was immense. It was excruciating.
She noted vaguely that the introduction of the drive to push had completely changed her priorities. When she came out of the contraction to find her trousers had been carefully removed, leaving only the length of her tunic to cover her dignity, the normal panic and mortification were the last things on her mind; she barely spared it an extra thought. Her focus was on getting this done, and her relief that it was almost over.
What use was embarrassment when an infant was currently ripping its way out of her body?
Her breaths were loud, her ears ringing. Taking a moment to rest, she tipped her head to rest on the arm still wrapped around Elam's shoulders and let out a prolonged hum. The way it resonated in her head was soothing.
"How are you doing, Your Highness?" Elam asked gently.
She hummed again.
The hand on her shoulder had once more lowered to the base of her spine, working at the constant tension there. Again, all thoughts of discomfort at the touch were far from her mind. It felt so nice, and she groaned in appreciation.
A huff of air brushed her face as he let out an amused sound. "I'm glad to help."
The pain between her legs as her body was forced open was getting harder to ignore, and with each contraction the burning feeling got worse. Arslan winced. She hardly dared to move her legs or shift her hips, not wanting to irritate the sensitive area further. She could only hope that this didn't do some irreparable damage to her body; she wasn't entirely sure how it could facilitate childbirth as it was.
Did her body work in the same way as Esana's? Was this as straightforward as the mare had made it look? Being raised as she had left her lacking in any knowledge on this topic- and the paltry information she did possess was picked up from watching mares foaling or, when she'd been a wandering prince, watching from afar as feral dogs whelped in alleys.
The next pain came and went, worsening the burning but not moving the child very much. It was getting frustrating; she wished it would go faster.
Elam must have sensed her annoyance. "Want to bet on the sex?" he asked with a forced lightness in his tone.
Taken by surprise, Arslan lifted her head to look at him. There was a small smirk on his face.
She blinked, considering; a small part of her was vaguely uncomfortable with the idea, but she couldn't understand why. Finally she gave a small shrug. Why not? I could definitely use a distraction.
He didn't speak, waiting for her to bet first. She thought it over, consulting her body and its many aches and pains as though this would give her insight. She thought about the child itself; her hand rubbed absently at her stomach. Was there any way to tell the sex? Were there signs? Did a mother just… know?
She hoped she wasn't supposed to, because nothing was coming to her.
Giving it up to chance, she settled on, "Boy."
Ouch. Her throat was so raw.
His smirk transformed into that endearing smile of his before he forced it back.
"Good, because I'm certain it's a girl."
Cocky bastard, she thought fondly.
"Are you also certain there are two this time?" she teased. "I recall that you've had poor luck there."
Picking up the game, he replied, "I will be kind this time and agree that there's only one."
There had better be. I'm not sure I could handle doing this twice.
"How gracious of you…" she said unamusedly, but could not continue as the pain increased and overcame her.
Her arm tightened around his neck as she tried to push the child down, out. She concentrated all of her energy to the task. A small stream of pink fluid burst forth and ran down the insides of her thighs, dripping onto the worn blanket.
Her face grew painfully hot as she pushed as hard as she could, and she was dizzy when she had to release it and the pain receded. More bloody fluid escaped her. She spared a glance at Hayal, who was closest, and was relieved to see from the look on her face that this development was not a cause for concern.
Turning back to Elam, possessed by an inexplicable mischief, she continued their banter with a tired smile.
"Are you too afraid to take the risk of being wrong?"
He scoffed. "Of course not! I simply know there's only one, and that you also think so; I'm being logical and agreeing."
"Of course," she teased.
"What about her appearance?" he redirected, adjusting her arm to alleviate the pressure on his neck.
She hummed, apologetic, but when she tried to retract it he kept it firmly in place. They shared an unspoken conversation in which he silently asked if she truly wanted to let go, she replied that she did not, and, decided, her arm stayed, with his look telling her that she had better not try to let go on his account again.
She couldn't help it; she rolled her eyes, lips quirking at his stubbornness.
Another pain came and passed with little progress.
Once her panting had slowed, he asked again, "What do you think she'll look like?"
The question was innocent, but if she was to make a legitimate guess, she had to consider her child's other parent. The memories were all too eager to bring the possibilities to mind.
-Rough skin pressed up against his, looking even darker in the low light-
-His harsh brown eyes staring into Arslan's in dominance-
-Sharp features pulled into a mocking smile-
She shivered as his brother came to mind.
-A softer touch, more manipulative, falsely kind-
-Long black hair draping down onto Arslan's bared chest-
-Eyes so dark they're almost black, always, always calculating-
It brought upsetting thoughts back into her mind, and she stopped the progression before it could go any further.
Still, she found the memories of those eyes were the hardest to push away- the many times she'd been forced to stare right back into them as they demanded her full attention, or as they ran over every inch of her body as she lay exposed, or the way their pupils would dilate predatorily whenever they looked at her…
"Hopefully he'll look like me," she finally answered.
Immediately realizing his mistake, Elam's face paled and he stumbled to correct himself, "Oh, gods- my apologies, Highness! I wasn't thinking. I-I was just following our earlier discussion- back in the stables, remember?" Recovering, he added, "I'm sure she'll look just like you."
She didn't like the uncomfortable tension in the air now, so she forced the darkness away.
"It's alright," she assured.
The next contraction gave its warning in advance, and she waited. It came upon her slowly, building and building until she was drowning in it. She clenched her jaw and bore down; her arm tightened around her stomach.
She made a distressed sound as the pain grew worse, and something warm pressed against her forehead and words of comfort were whispered to her.
When it passed and she opened her eyes, she found Elam's face inches from hers, their foreheads resting against each other.
His cheeks grew slightly pink when their eyes met and he pulled his head back.
Her heavy breaths were making her dizzy again, and she had to make a conscious effort to calm herself. She focused on the soreness building in her knees as she continued to put all of her weight onto them, giving a half-hearted shift in hopes of alleviating some of it. It didn't help, but she didn't try again.
The next several pains came in quick succession, getting so close together that she hardly had any time to catch her breath. If she'd felt close to blacking out before, it was nothing compared to the way her vision swam and grew spotty each time she pushed for too long- her face was uncomfortably warm from the pressure and it felt like every muscle in her body was being tightened at once, squeezing the air from her lungs. The bone-deep weariness weighing her down kept gaining strength even as she fought to keep it at bay.
The child plowed through her, now low enough that she could feel it ready to emerge, stretching her painfully. She pushed as hard as she could, but the sharp pain immediately had her stopping with a whimper.
"Go slowly, Highness," Farangis said, speaking up for the first time in a while. She had pulled a blanket into her hands in preparation, while Hayal had just returned to the bedside with a basin of steaming water.
"Yes, allow your body time to adjust."
Arslan gave a single, harsh nod of understanding.
The next contraction washed over her, pushing another rivulet of fluid from her body. She gave an experimental push, but when it still caused pain, she eased up before starting again, much gentler this time. She slowly increased the strength, not even getting to full power before it ended and she had to stop.
This continued for a few more minutes, and slowly but surely the child began to escape her.
She could feel it when the child was ready to break free; the built-up pressure it was putting on her was tremendous and awful, and she very much wanted to shove it out as quickly as possible. Feeling it was the right time, she started off the next contraction with a strong push, not permitting herself to stop as the weight moved downward, spreading her impossibly wide, making its excruciating way out.
"Gah!" she cried.
Farangis moved closer, kneeling right in front of her. One hand came out from under the little blanket, resting flat against Arslan's stomach. When Arslan peeled an eye open to see what was happening, still holding onto the push, Farangis met her gaze firmly, silently encouraging.
Arslan couldn't maintain eye contact for very long, ducking her head to put more effort into her labor, but the feather-light touch remained for a few lingering seconds before finally withdrawing.
Gods, this was awful. She had never had more empathy towards a horse in her entire life... experiencing firsthand the agony that came along with trying to force an infant out of her body made her truly admire Esana- no, all mothers. Especially those who went through this pain and then willingly went through it again.
That had to take a special kind of strength that Arslan would readily admit to lacking.
Her sheer determination ensured she did not stop pushing even when it well and truly burned; now that she was prepared for the heightened pain, it was merely an obstacle to overcome. She was careful about it, sometimes letting up enough to keep the pain manageable, but gradually adding more strength until she was back to pushing with all of her power. Her lungs screamed- she hadn't taken a breath since the start of the contraction, ages ago.
As if on cue, a hand patted at her cheek. She obediently exhaled, immediately and loudly inhaling again. The contraction left soon after, and her head spun as her muscles loosened. She was extremely dizzy and lost her balance, falling sideways until almost all of her weight was leaning against Elam.
"Whoa," Elam exclaimed, tightening his grip on her to ensure she didn't completely collapse.
"I'm alright," Arslan panted.
The cool cloth came back to wipe at her brow.
"Stay with us, Your Majesty," Hayal said as she worked, half admonishment and half worry. "You need to keep your strength about you."
It was so close. She could feel it. Just one contraction more and it would be out. She awaited the opportunity with a resigned sort of eagerness; it would be absolutely terrible, but it would also be the end of this torture.
And so, when the next pain arose, she put all of her might into a solid push.
The agony lasted for centuries before suddenly the pressure all but vanished, the burning receding. It wasn't what she'd thought it would feel like, and she gasped aloud.
But several seconds passed, and the child made no appearance beneath her.
There was, however, something between her legs. Something round and slimy and cumbersome.
Concerned, she looked down, but her vision was blocked by her tunic and she couldn't work up the nerve to lift its hem.
Farangis worked her way even closer, gaining Arslan's attention. The priestess had a knowing look on her face.
"Is it not pressing as hard anymore?"
Arslan nodded, old anxieties starting to well up.
The woman hummed affirmingly.
"The head's likely out. May I take a look?"
Only its head? Was childbirth done in sections? Disheartened at the realization that this wasn't over yet, the king let out a trembling breath.
She wanted to say no… but if something was wrong, and Farangis could check…
Forcing herself to assume the uncaring mind she'd been of earlier, with no concerns for dignity or emotional discomfort, she gave a curt nod and leaned her head against her shoulder, looking away.
Without seeing it, she couldn't even tell her tunic was being lifted- but it must have been, because after a moment Farangis said, almost amusedly, "Ah, yes, there's its head," at the same time that Hayal made a sound of awe.
"Little one looks quite displeased, too," the handmaiden added lightly, unable to hide the amazement in her voice.
As Arslan had feared, another pain came. Her instinct was still to push with it, but the resistance was even worse than it had been before.
If only its head is out… this must be its shoulders.
As she pushed the body further down, it tore at her even more than the head had, and her eyes started to water. Recognizing this was probably a sign that she shouldn't rush it, she returned to her method of easing up before gradually pushing harder.
After this, it should be easy… right? The shoulders are the widest part of the body… so it should slide out after this, she theorized.
...Unless the hips also get caught.
Mithra, she hoped not.
"The shoulders," she gasped once it passed, "all that's left?"
To her utmost relief, the women nodded.
"Yes," Farangis answered.
"Alright, all that's left," Arslan repeated to herself breathlessly. "I can… I can do this."
"You can do this," Elam agreed.
But another contraction came and passed, and it just hurt so much. She could hardly get it to move, and any forward traction she'd made promptly vanished as the child slid back to where it had been before. She found herself the closest to crying in that moment, but managed, with a sharp inhale, to hold it back. Losing control would only make things worse.
Elam rubbed at her side, as if he could sense her discouragement.
"Don't give up, now, Highness," he coaxed. "This is the hardest part, but after this it's done."
Another contraction came and went.
"It hurts," she moaned.
"I know," he replied, voice full of sympathy. "But you'll overcome. You always do."
Did she? Arslan wasn't sure about that.
The muscles in her neck were aching, and she lolled her head back and spared a glance past Elam, toward the far wall.
Daryun and Narsus were still leaned against it, but the look on Daryun's face belied his relaxed stance. When he realized she was looking their way, he seemed slightly startled, unsure of what to do.
Narsus tucked his hands into his sleeves and gave her a determined smile: you can do this, I know it.
After a moment Daryun finally settled on giving a small dip of his head, a smile coming to his lips as well. You're doing well, keep going.
You have our support.
It was the boost her morale needed, and she gave a little nod of her own, hoping they could see her gratitude.
She just needed to channel the strength she'd been building for so long in the hopes of becoming a better king- the mental fortitude, the tolerance for pain, the muscle power. If she could just rally all of these and give everything she could, perhaps that could finally bring this agony to an end and she could meet the fruit of her labor.
With this plan in mind, she widened her stance, adjusted her grip on Elam, and brought her free hand up to fist in his tunic. She prepared herself as the contraction started to build, taking a few deep breaths and closing her eyes. This was it. She could do it.
Arslan bore down as hard as she could as the contraction came to a peak, no longer caring what noises she made; a raw scream escaped her mouth as she put all of her power into pushing, despite the unbearable pain that immediately assaulted her, warning her to back off, take it slowly. Ignoring this warning, she plowed on.
The child inched lower, lower, lower.
The contraction was coming to an end, but she knew if she stopped now, the child would slide back and she'd have to do this all over again- if she even could.
So, when her muscles started to slowly loosen, she continued pushing.
The others picked up on this rather quickly, and there was an air of alarm that swiftly arose.
"Highness, wait-"
No, she was doing this now.
She sucked in a breath and kept it going, and with this final push, the sharp, stretching pain reached its highest point and then was gone.
Arslan wasn't sure how she ended up slumped against Elam's side, knees folded awkwardly to each side of her, but her head was still spinning and as she tried to focus on what was happening around her, she found it was incredibly difficult. Her body was a mess of aches and throbbing pains, from the front of her skull down to the muscles in her calves. An uncomfortable warmth was slowly draining from her, something wet continuing the trail down her thighs, and when she shifted just the slightest bit the sharp stinging pain was enough to make her wince.
She tried to force her eyelids open, but they were very heavy, as if literal weights were tied to them.
How long had she been unconscious? After what she'd just been through, there was no way her body was accurately communicating anything. She felt like she'd been asleep for centuries but simultaneously like it had been years since she'd last gotten any rest at all.
Were those voices? They were quite loud. Two in front of her, one beside. What were they saying?
There was something still attached to her, she realized belatedly as she restlessly shifted again, trying to rally her aching limbs into moving her upright. She got nowhere, but could now feel with great clarity the thin fleshy rope coming from between her legs. It occasionally was pulled on slightly as the voices became more concerned. What was going on?
The pulling suddenly became more pronounced, but before she could make a sound of protest at the discomfort, the rope fell limp and wasn't jostled again.
Her confusion continued to grow at the same rate as her worry. There was something she was supposed to be concerned about, she was certain of it, but her thoughts were swimming so horribly, she couldn't latch onto anything coherent enough.
What's happening? Why can't I move?
Panic was beginning to rise in her as her body still failed to respond her commands to sit up, focus, or at least open her eyes. What was wrong with her? What-
The voices let out collective sounds of relief.
Moments later, a shrill cry split the air.
The baby.
The sharp sound broke through the fog in her mind and she held onto it desperately, finding strength in her immediate concern for her child. She wrestled her eyes open.
Farangis and Hayal were hunched over Farangis' hands, cradled in which was a squirmy figure wrapped hastily in a blanket. Arslan stared at a tiny arm that waved furiously from the wrappings. It was bright red, uncoordinated, and covered in fluid.
Is that…?
"You're awake," Elam noticed, craning his neck to better see her face. "How are you feeling? You blacked out for a few seconds."
She hardly heard him, eyes wide and heart stuttering in her chest. She watched intently as Hayal wiped the infant clean and Farangis examined it thoroughly.
"My baby…"
Her arms were up and reaching before she'd even realized it.
Elam beamed.
"You did wonderfully, Highness. You have a son."
She couldn't explain why her eyes started to water, or why it was suddenly impossible to speak. The look on her face must have said it all.
He continued, "I haven't seen much of him yet, but he seems lively and he's definitely a fighter. They're just making sure he's alright, but I'm sure you'll get to hold him soon."
As they returned to watching the women work on the newborn, Arslan noticed the rope she'd felt earlier- a thin pink cord, several inches long, emerging from under her tunic, lying innocuously on the bed in front of her. Its end was tied with a string, and looked to have been cleanly cut.
What is that?
Before she could inquire, the women's mumbling stopped and a voice was directed at her.
"Are you feeling alright, Your Majesty?"
Arslan nodded but said nothing, eagerly awaiting information. Everything else fell to the wayside.
The handmaiden had finally finished her task and was setting her cleaning rag back into the basin of water, while Farangis had pulled the blanket to fully wrap around the squalling baby and carefully made her way closer to them.
"Let me be the first to congratulate you, Your Highness," she said, eyes glimmering with warmth and the smallest of smiles on her lips. "The prince is perfect."
As she spoke, she tilted the bundle until a face was visible amongst the swaths of fabric.
Arslan's breath caught as she gazed upon her son's face for the first time; it was round and full and red, his mouth wide open around a loud sob and his face creased in his displeasure.
He was beautiful.
The tears returned, and she lifted her arms again, wanting more than anything in her life simply to hold him close. Her arms felt empty without him in them- yet they'd never known him.
"Can I have him?" she asked quietly, voice wavering with emotion.
The small smile grew, and the priestess nodded, moving closer. She transferred the babe to the crook of one arm and used the other to position Arslan's, while Elam's grip around the girl's back strengthened to ensure she was secure.
Time seemed to slow as Arslan's son was finally, finally placed in her waiting embrace- and the moment Farangis let go, the meager weight of him sparked an intense flame in Arslan's breast.
A burning warmth spread throughout her, seizing hold of her heart and gripping it tightly, rushing to her head and warming her face, clutching her throat so no sound could escape her. She welcomed all of it. The sheer amount of love she could feel for this tiny creature, bubbling up from nowhere and swiftly overtaking her, was enough to frighten her, and yet she was drunk on it.
She was in awe as she brought him close and curled around him, studying him as much as she was able. The thick hair adorning his precious little head was white. His little flaring nostrils were faintly heart-shaped. The tiny hand escaping the swaddle was perfect, with five long, slender fingers with rosy nails.
He was beautiful.
Just looking at him brought a massive wave of giddiness. Even as tears fell down her face, she was smiling hugely.
She was hopelessly, irrevocably, painfully in love.
It was surreal.
Acting on a random impulse, she brought him up to her face- overly careful, for fear of dropping and breaking such a delicate being- and brushed her lips against his soft forehead, the sensation oddly calming. She took a moment to breathe in his faint scent, enjoying the contact for a few more moments, and then pressed a kiss to his little face and held him once more against her chest.
At the closeness, the newborn prince finally started to settle. His cries dwindled and faded into little grunts and his flailing arms and kicking legs began to weaken until he was limp in her arms, letting out a coo that absolutely turned her to mush.
Arslan's voice was released from the choking grip and she gently rocked him as she spoke to him for the first time.
"Hello, my little one."
It was barely above a whisper, only intended for his delicate ears.
He responded as if he knew her voice, coming to life once more, squirming and grunting and turning his head from side to side. He didn't cry, but instead seemed to be searching for her.
Her heart swelled at the thought that, perhaps, he already loved her too.
And then his eyes opened.
The fears she'd had over whose eyes would look back at her faded away, but she couldn't help but be stunned as those wandering orbs struggled to fixate on her face.
They weren't brown, nor green, nor her dark blue…
They were red, pale to the point of nearly being pink.
They weren't the eyes of his mother, nor his father…
They were entirely his own.
She let out a relieved laugh, quietly hysterical. "My beautiful boy."
Mine.
Here, in her arms, was her only blood relative. The royal family of Pars had consisted of a single lonely monarch, and now she had an heir, someone dependent on her, someone to carry her legacy.
But, more than that, he was someone to love unconditionally and to teach, to comfort and protect.
Already he filled a void in her that she hadn't realized had gotten quite so large since the deaths of her parents- the desire for a family to call her own. King Andragoras and Queen Tahamine had been awful parents, and had stolen her from and killed her real ones, but at least in them she'd had a place to belong for so many years, and in them she'd had family members who weren't her subjects; she hadn't been alone at the top, not the only one forever isolated from the close-knit community of the common folk of Pars.
No matter how distant Lady Mother or abusive Lord Father had been, losing them had been harder on her than she'd ever anticipated. Adjusting to life without them had been difficult, especially with the role she now had to fill.
Being a royal could be so very lonely when you were the only one.
She'd been able to soothe most of the ache by surrounding herself with a new family, comprised of people she trusted with her life and who she loved fiercely, and they brought her happiness where no one else could. She adored all of them, and always would.
But now… now!
Now she had someone who relied on her, and who was small and new and hers, who she could interact with without propriety and rank coming between them, with whom she shared blood and to whom she could give everything.
Her pulse sped up as she realized how much potential rested in this bundle in her arms.
Her son could learn from her, including her mistakes, and be an even better ruler.
His future was full of endless possibility, and it was humbling to be a part of shaping it.
The baby cooed again, staring up at her with such innocent adoration, such open trust, that she had to look away before her tears fell onto his face. I don't deserve you.
But I'm going to do my best. Because that's what youdeserve.
She got so caught up in her emotions that she jumped a little when Elam suddenly spoke over her shoulder.
"He's very handsome."
Still exhausted, she took the opportunity to lean back against his chest and relished the contact of a loved one as she celebrated this unexpected addition to her family. She was sure she was glowing with pride.
"Thank you, Elam."
She never wanted this moment to end.
Of course, Fate would never be so kind as to allow it- when it eventually did end, the fact that it was by a weak contraction made it doubly unpleasant, as well as alarming.
Dear Mithra, please tell me there isn't another one!
While the idea of having a second baby to cherish wasn't unappealing, she did not have the strength to push one out.
Elam felt it when she tensed, and his hand rubbed at her side.
"That's just the afterbirth, Highness," Hayal reassured, pulling out a cloth pouch.
The next minutes passed in discomfort before the last of the birth was whisked away.
Thankfully the baby was peaceful throughout this phase, staying contently tucked up against his mother, and the atmosphere lost the rest of its tension as this last part was completed without complication.
Arslan had just settled back against Elam as she'd been before when the babe started to fuss again, turning his head and desperately rooting at her chest. Confused, she looked to Farangis.
"What's he doing?"
The priestess reached over and caressed the child's soft hair tenderly.
"He's hungry, Highness. You'll have to feed him soon."
"How?"
If she'd never seen Farangis surprised before, she had certainly seen it now.
The woman blinked.
"With your milk."
… What?
Arslan cocked her head, brows furrowed.
Sighing, Farangis leaned closer and murmured, so that the others could not hear, "A mother's milk is stored in her breasts, Highness."
Arslan's stomach dropped.
Suddenly she saw movement in her periphery- Daryun and Narsus, who had remained quiet until then and had been respecting her space, had taken this conversation as their cue to leave and had started heading for the door.
But they haven't met the baby yet!
Upset, she made to protest- but Farangis spoke first.
"Come back when I send for you, please. I'll need someone to lift Her Majesty so we can change her bedding."
Daryun nodded in acknowledgment, and the men hovered by the doorway as they waited for the king to give her permission for them to leave.
She stared at them for a moment, conflicted. "And then you'll meet my baby, right?"
Their smiles came easily and both men nodded.
"Of course, Highness."
"We look forward to it."
Appeased, she dipped her head in acquiescence. They left.
"You as well, Elam," Farangis added.
The teen didn't argue, carefully moving Arslan so she was propped against the wall. When they were face-to-face, she gave him a similar searching look.
"You'll come back, too?"
"If I'm welcome to, then of course."
Relieved, she replied, "You most certainly are."
He didn't hesitate. "Then I'll be waiting."
As she watched him leave, Arslan clutched her baby tighter and tried to prepare herself for the entirely new struggle she knew was coming.
Yay, Baby is finally here! Despite how difficult it is (as I've never given birth myself), I do love writing birth scenes.
Anyway, thank you so much to Trunks for your suggestion on Baby's gender!
**Now the lad needs a name- if you've got ideas, please feel free to send them to me either via review or PM! I've got a few, but I'm always interested in your input!
Thanks!
