35. After the Birth
The other Riders and those present for the birth observed the events unfold in stunned silence. There wasn't a dry eye among them as they beheld their valiant leader and his beloved wife lose the precious son who had just come to them. Willow's tears almost equaled Arya's as she leaned disbelievingly into Varhog, feeling weak from the crushing weight of hopelessness and despair at witnessing her cherished friends—her brother and sister—endure this trial. She was the only one who thought to do what she did.
More earnestly than ever before Willow whispered, "Holy Mother, Rahna. Please hear me. Please. Please help Eragon and Arya. Somehow help them. As one who has been through this, I know you understand their sorrow and pain unlike any other could. We need your help. We can't bear this."
The grief-stricken new parents, along with everyone else, heard her whispered supplication, and all were equally aware when the beautiful voice filled the meadow, saying, Willow, your faith is strong. It is powerful enough to produce miracles, but I am not the steward of the elven race. She and her mate wait to be called upon, wanting nothing more than to ease the pain your brother and sister are enduring. But we cannot interfere in the affairs of those under our care unless asked. She must needs only be asked.
Arya grasped frantically at the shred of hope being extended to her. "Whom?" she cried. "Rahna! Please tell me whom I must address and I will!"
With loving compassion and kindness the voice replied, Ellei-an. Arya, you need only address my sister, Ellei-an, and she will hear your cries.
Arya gasped in wild faith, "Ellei-an, stewardess of my race, I call on you to help me in my hour of greatest sorrow and need. I don't know if I can ask to have my baby back but that's all I want. More desperately than anything else, I want to be a mother to this beautiful son. Please help me, holy one."
At mention of her mother's name, Angela's mournful expression evolved into one of disbelief, but no one noticed, for right at that moment a blinding light appeared above the meadow and two glorious figures swiftly descended from a realm of brilliant brightness. One was tall, slender, and noble—a dark-haired, stunningly beautiful female elf. The other was short, stocky, and strong—a long-bearded, curly-haired male dwarf. With their hands joined, they walked straight to Eragon and Arya.
The woman smiled down at Arya with a look of profound, perfect love in her eyes. "My daughter. Thank you for calling on us. You have earned this blessing. Do you believe that your baby's life can be restored? Your faith is a necessary prerequisite for the miracle to be performed."
-:-:-
Arya nodded silently, dumbfounded by the sudden appearance of the heavenly beings and the promise they offered her. Though she spoke no words, her utter sincerity and unwavering faith that she could get her baby back were enough. The dwarf knelt by her and, with a kind, fatherly smile, extended his arms and gently laid his fingertips—for that was all that would fit on the tiny surface—on the baby's head where it rested next to Arya's chest.
In a deep voice of surpassing wisdom he said, "Brom, son of Eragon and Arya, by the authority I bear from Him whom we reverence as Father of us all, I say unto you, receive your spirit once again into your body."
Though the sounds of the three divine voices they had heard, one after the other, had been blessed and beautiful, the next sound that broke into the meadow was the most exquisitely blessed and beautiful of all. The baby took in a shuddering gasp. Then a small, insistent cry left his perfect, rosebud lips. He squawked weakly at first as his body regained function after its momentary stillness, then he squalled more loudly. Arya cried again, this time in stunned joy as her small son squirmed in her arms, his tiny hands and feet pushing into her chest with surprising strength. She laughed in radiant relief, pressing her cheek once more to the baby's head.
"My son," Arya breathed. "You have come back to us. Oh, how I love you, my precious baby. Brom." She lifted her head, smiling at Eragon to share her happiness. Then she turned back to Gelarik, who had performed the miracle that mended her broken heart and restored her reason for wanting to live. "Thank you, Gelarik. Thank you so much. I am inexpressibly and eternally grateful for my baby's life. I will do anything required of me to be worthy of this blessing."
Gelarik had remained kneeling close by Arya's side, and he tenderly placed one hand on her cheek, continuing to smile in the kind way that made his eyes twinkle. "You already were worthy, daughter. That is why you received the blessing. You asked in faith and received, according to the law of the heavens."
-:-:-
Eragon witnessed the miracle unfold before his eyes in wondering awe, laughing in amazement as he heard the first sounds of life from his baby. Brom's skin now took on the perfectly healthy pink he had so longed to see before. Eragon placed a hand over Arya's and was overwhelmed to feel the warmth and movement indicating life, such a vibrant opposite to the stillness he had felt before. "Brom," he said softly. "He is alive, my love."
"Yes," Arya agreed. "He's perfect, Eragon. Our son. You were right all along, more than we ever realized. Faith was the answer, the way to make it through the darkness. Ours was tried and tested through the fiery infernos of hell, but we emerged triumphantly and overcame the impossible odds set against us." She reached her face toward him, and he kissed her, so overwhelmed by the unexpected turn of events that had restored his son and made them a family.
He looked up at Ellei-an then over at Gelarik. "Thank you," he said fervently. "Thank you for my son, for my family."
"The order and structure of heavenly society is organized around the family, Eragon," Ellei-an replied. "That your selfless enduring has led you to it in your earthly existence is evidence of your pure heart and devoted love. Ever since you were given the calling of Dragon Rider, you have proved your willingness to sacrifice for the good of all around you, and that is the truest expression of pure love. It was the will of the Father to extend this gift to you now, for you persevered through the most demanding trials that we could inflict, never giving up nor turning back. Now enjoy this time with your baby and your wife. We will remain in my meadow to explain the mystery you came here to uncover." She turned with the most loving expression she had yet displayed to face Angela and finished, "Even why we left you, our precious daughter. We have longed to be reunited."
Angela's face was covered in tears. Gelarik stood, and the noble couple approached their daughter. Ellei-an and Gelarik were not spirits. Their bodies were physical and tangible, clearly of flesh and bone, and as they reached Angela, they enfolded her in their arms. The same expression of profound longing and love that had been in Arya's eyes as her baby first moved in her arms was now on Ellei-an's face as she and her husband held their daughter.
Eragon realized that the couple meant to wait until he and Arya had sufficient time to meet their baby. He looked down again at the wriggling boy, who was insistently searching for Arya's breast.
-:-:-
Arya was observing Brom in doting adoration, and she gently helped him accomplish his desire, knowing he might not be strong enough on his own since he was forced from his cozy home before he was fully developed. "There it is, Brom. You must help mother's body deliver the placenta so it will know to begin making your milk. I'm sorry we had to force you here early. We feared that if we waited, we might lose you, and we almost did anyway. Thank you for coming back to me, my darling. I would have been broken and empty for the rest of my long life without you."
Arya stroked his soft, fluffy hair—which was exactly the color of her own—as he suckled determinedly at the breast he had latched onto, kneading it with reflexive clenching motions from his hands. Brom finally opened his eyes, which were a milky, deep-blue, bright and alert. He gazed straight up into Arya's face, reaching one tiny hand for her, as if he knew she was speaking words of love to him. She met his small palm with her lips and kissed softly, maintaining the contact until Brom returned his hand to his face with a jerky motion. Arya laughed softly and sang to him, her joyful tears falling to his small body.
"He's so beautiful, Arya," Eragon whispered. "So perfect. What a miracle to have him alive and well. Can he see you?"
"The distance between my breasts and my face is all the farther he can see at first. He can't see colors well, but he can see contrasts, such as those created on my face by my eyebrows, eyes, and lips against my skin. It's one of the many examples to suggest that the beginnings of a new life were designed most carefully to ensure the bonding of a mother with her baby and the other way around." Arya stopped speaking and relaxed as her baby's suckling created the first natural tightening of her womb that she had experienced since she and Eragon had last made love, the stimulation of her nipples triggering the same hormonal release in her body that led to uterine contractions.
Arya thought the placenta had begun ripping away from her womb during her final push. Something painful and unrelated to Brom's emergence had seemed to occur, which was why she had screamed. But Arya didn't notice any bleeding and a quick search with her mind reassured her that the placenta was fully intact and had apparently reattached to her womb, if it had even begun to separate in the first place. Arya focused on relaxing, trusting that the placenta would eventually be born. Then the thought occurred to her that she could try to reconnect the baby's cord to the placenta so he would receive some nourishment through her blood until her body began producing breast milk.
She decided it wouldn't hurt to at least try. "Eragon, now that the cord is not around Brom's neck, do you think it would reach the end still attached to the placenta? The placenta is still affixed to my womb, and if we could reestablish the connection, Brom might get nourishment from my body to sustain him while he waits for my milk to come in. I fear it will take longer than normal since we forced him here early."
"I'll try," Eragon said. "Do you know the spell I should use? Or would you rather?"
"I will," Arya replied. "I'm familiar with the structure of the umbilical cord and how the blood vessels are meant to function. If you can bring the ends together, I'll take over from there."
"The cord retracted somewhat into your body after I severed Brom from your womb. It was stretched so taut, which is why he couldn't descend. The cord was wrapped four times around his neck, and the remaining length was not enough to allow him to emerge from you. I'm worried my hand won't fit to retrieve it, and I don't want to hurt you. Could Willow or Maehrí perhaps assist us?"
"A marvelous idea," Arya approved, looking up. "Willow, are you familiar with this kind of healing?"
"Not extremely," Willow admitted, glancing over at Maehrí. "Are you, sister?" Maehrí nodded. "Then you should do it," Willow continued. "You'll also have an easier time reaching, without a great belly to work around."
Maehrí stood and swiftly made her way over. A bucket of water and bar of soap had been prepared in advance, and Maehrí washed her hands before kneeling in front of Arya. Then she freed the length of cord still attached to Brom to determine if it would stretch the necessary distance. It reached the opening of Arya's body with several inches to spare, so Maehrí gently extended her hand into Arya, searching until she found the other end of the umbilical cord and matching them together.
"I could perform the spell, Arya," Maehrí offered. "I would be honored."
"Please," Arya allowed. She was so tired. All she wanted was to sleep.
Maehrí murmured the words of power in the ancient language, and since the cord had originally been so neatly severed with magic, it immediately rejoined into a seamless length. They could instantly see that Maehrí's efforts had been successful. With the next contraction of Arya's womb, which happened at that moment, the cord—which had been white and slack—filled with blood and became thick, knobby, and purple.
That the blood reached Brom was also clearly evident. His skin took on a rosy flush, and he relaxed in contentment. All of his efforts at Arya's breast were gaining him nothing in return, for nothing was yet there. Her breasts were in the very beginning stages of preparing the colostrum, or first milk, and the process would have continued for the remaining three weeks of her term so he would have had a few drops to reward his diligent suckling had he been born at forty weeks gestation.
Arya sighed in relief that her baby would continue to receive the nourishment he needed while her body attempted to catch up with the prematurely forced events. The fact that her womb had experienced no natural contractions during the whole birth would be confusing for her body. Those surges, along with the detachment of the placenta, were the most definite indications of the end of pregnancy and signaled the start of breast milk production.
"Thank you, Maehrí," Arya whispered. "See how much it helped him?"
Maehrí nodded. "It was an honor, Arya Svit-kona. He's beautiful. So beautiful." She returned to Hanin, and as Arya followed her with her eyes, she once again looked at Willow, who was watching rapturously. Arya heart flowed over with gratitude, and her recently dry eyes brimmed again with tears.
"Willow," Arya softly invited. "Please come here."
Varhog stood to help her up. Willow stiffly arose, stretching before trying to move. She leaned against Varhog when she swayed unsteadily after rising so suddenly from such a long maintained sitting position. Varhog continued to support her arm as she walked the short distance to where Arya was relaxing against Eragon.
Willow knelt down in front of Arya. "Yes, sister?"
Arya's tears spilled down her cheeks. "I never could have gotten a better sister, not even if I had made a long list of special requests. See my baby, Willow?" Willow nodded, her tears also streaming once again. "Thank you for him, Willow. Thank you so much. I never would have thought to pray. You know it's true because you saw my despair, and yet words of faith never even came to my mind. You are the reason this miracle unfolded, and I will be eternally grateful, my beloved sister. Not only have you given me my son, you have also given me the most powerful lesson in faith I have ever had. I'll never doubt again and will always be your humble servant." She reached her free hand—the one not supporting Brom—out toward Willow, and Willow silently grasped it, unable to speak. "Lean in and look at him," Arya then invited.
Willow did, breathing her wondrous praise. "He's so exquisite, Arya. And so tiny. So much smaller than baby Varhog was. I'm so relieved this is the final outcome. So relieved and so happy. I can't imagine how you must have been feeling because I was feeling like I would surely be crushed under the weight of hopelessness and agony I experienced while watching you. The legend of Rahna affected me so deeply when Garzhvog first shared it because I identified with her so much. I remembered how her second birth resulted in a stillborn child, and it seemed that she of all people would be able to provide some relief, at the very least, some comfort or consolation. I never foresaw the events that transpired. My faith has also grown and is now unshakable." She had kept her eyes on the sleeping infant, but she lifted them once again to Arya's face. "You're so tired, Arya. You were incredible today. All that work you did was heroic. Can you now rest?"
Arya wanted nothing more than to do just that, but she glanced uncertainly toward Ellei-an and Gelarik, who were kneeling with Angela between them.
Ellei-an must have understood her questioning look, for she said, "Rest, Life-Bringer. My mate and I are not in a hurry to return. We have waited countless years for this moment. We will remain with our daughter and enjoy some of the time we lost with her. In the morning when all have recovered, we will share the information you seek."
"Thank you," Arya whispered with her last energy. Her head drooped against Eragon's shoulder, and he awkwardly attempted to shift down.
-:-:-
Eragon looked up at Varhog. "Will you please help me? I don't think I can sleep with my back against this tree, but I don't want to disturb Arya or the baby." Arya murmured as if trying to indicate she was still alert, but it didn't convince anyone. "Some pillows might be nice and another blanket that isn't soaked." Before Varhog could even turn, Hanin was there with the requested items. Murtagh and Nasuada also made their way over to observe and offer their silent congratulations. They smiled down at Eragon, who tiredly returned it.
Hanin held the bedding while Varhog knelt and helped Eragon achieve a reclined position over the blood and fluid-soaked cloths. Seeing Varhog's concerned look at the mess, Eragon dismissed, "I don't even care right now, brother. My wife is safe. My son is alive. We need to sleep."
Willow and Maehrí at least removed the wetness from the cloths so they wouldn't become cold, leaving the rest of the mess for a later time.
Once Eragon was comfortable with several pillows behind his head and back to prop him up, Varhog lifted Arya as easily as if she were Brom, placing her free side—the one opposite the baby—against Eragon's chest. Eragon put his arm around her so her head rested on his shoulder where it would not jerk down in sleep. When Eragon confirmed his comfort and they all decided Arya was as comfortable as she could be, Varhog spread the blanket Hanin held out to him over Eragon, Arya, and the baby, keeping it carefully away from Brom's face. He helped Eragon get another blanket around his bare shoulders—Arya's were still covered with her undershirt—so they wouldn't feel cold during the night, then they all left the new family to sleep in peace.
A/N: The following chapter contains brief mention of a Mature love scene.