Author's Notes: I told you I wouldn't leave you hanging!
Okay serious note here: This is one of the chapters that made me make this story rated M instead of T. If you have a squick about childbirth or the subsequent events, you might skim this chapter. That being said, important stuff goes down here! You might give it a shot :).
Kirara: VERY soon. And not Blizzard soon, I mean you won't have to hold your breath very long at all. Just until you turn purple.
Impsy: Baby time!
Feff: COME BACK FROM VACATION YOU'RE MISSING THIS!
As soon as the hippogryph touched down, several pairs of strong arms lifted her and carried her through the gates of the compound. They shouted for Raene, for help, as they carefully but quickly sped towards a line of small huts along the east edge of the fence. The bouncing coupled with their hands on her skin was excruciating, nauseating. Raene was there, trying to talk to her, firing off questions, but Zarabethe could barely make her out through the rushing in her ears and the vice crushing her body. Finally they reached an empty hut and bore her inside, setting her gently on a pile of blankets. Pain washed in a wave over her again, even bigger than before. She was drowning, she was sure, and the bevy of attendants holding her arms, her head, sitting her up, pulling at her boots and then her pants, were pulling her even farther under. She struggled instinctively against their helping hands, trying to get away, but the impossible tightening came again, stronger, quicker, laced with fear and panic. She cried out, gripping the arms of the people holding her hands, feeling a wave of nausea rising in her. The buzzing in her ears grew louder, and she tried to put her hands over her ears but she couldn't get her arms free. A shudder ran over her at their touch. Her tolerance level snapped.
"Stop touching me!" she screamed.
Startled, the attendants dropped her arms. Zarabethe yanked them away, tried to stand, and only made it to her hands and knees as another contraction broke over her. Without hands on her skin, it was much more bearable, although still impossibly strong. It felt lower, rippling down her back and into her legs as she moaned, rocking back and forth. Distantly she heard Raene speaking to the attendants in a hushed voice. As the wave let go of her, she lifted her head and saw the older night elf squatted down in front of her.
"I sent them outside. They'll be here if we need them."
Raene didn't touch her, didn't patronize her, just sat back on her heels and waited patiently. It was that trust, that affirmation that Zarabethe needed and she felt her confidence return. It flooded back to surround the core of her being, twisting itself into the iron rod of her will. She breathed rhythmically as she gathered herself back together. For the first time since she left Silverwing Outpost, she felt in control again. Calmness spread over her, and although the pressure between her legs was immense, she felt a sense of waiting. Raene seemed to feel it too.
"Hello, Zarabethe," she said in a conversational tone. She seemed to be immune to the event playing out before her. "I must say, I never expected to see you here."
Zarabethe cracked a shaky smile in spite of everything. "Neither did I."
Seconds seem to pass as eons as the two night elfs waited, and she was grateful for it. She took the time to breathe evenly and gather her strength. After what felt like several thousand years Raene cleared her throat.
"Zara, is there someone I need to send for?" Zarabethe heard the question not spoken. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She felt a building up inside of her again and tried to steady her shaking arms as her breath quickened. Her emotions struggled against the dam she built around them.
"Tell me his name, and I'll have a runner out, " Raene pressed gently. Zarabethe was panting now as she felt a wave start deep in her thighs and travel up. Her voice was strained, choking her.
"Elforen! Talrend Woodstalker! " she gasped, the last word turning to a moan as the wave crested and held. She dug her fingernails into the wood of the floor. Finally it broke, washing over her and leaving her shaking.
"Please, get Elforen. Tell him...tell him I'm sorry."
Tears hovered at her eyelashes, but she paid them no mind. That contraction had felt different, deeper even. Raene stepped out and spoke to someone out of view. Zarabethe felt something primal bubble up inside of her, and she closed her eyes and listened. Instinctively she felt the shift occur: now it was time for the baby to come. As the next contraction started, with it came a different urge: if the contractions were waves, then this was a tidal wave. A strange low growl came to her ears as Zarabethe pushed, lightly at first, then with more force. She could feel the baby low in her birth canal, but it did not move. As the contraction relaxed momentarily, she saw Raene standing in the doorway waiting. Almost immediately the urge rose up in her again, and she bore down, even harder than before. It only surprised her a little to realize the growl filling the room was her own voice. As she was pushing, she felt the most amazing thing: the baby moved. It slid down just a little, but it filled her with even more determination than she believed she had left.
"I need something to hold on to," she quickly gasped to Raene. She heard footsteps, then a scraping noise. The wooden bench from across the room was in front of her. Zarabethe gripped the back of the seat and rested her forehead on the cushion. Raene knelt in front of her again.
"Keep your jaw loose, it helps," she said quietly. "I'm going to get some blankets ready."
Panting, her focus completely inward, Zarabethe waited. When the wave rose again inside of her, she leaned onto her elbows, pushing as hard as she could. The baby was moving! Incredibly, she felt a smile break across her face as she took a moment to gasp for breath. She felt movement between her legs as Raene laid some blankets on the floor under her, then stepped back again. This was it, and as the urge came she bore down again, her growl turning to a shout, and a slight burning pain as she felt the baby's head crown. Joy bubbled out of her mouth in triumphant laughter. She reached down and felt warm, wet hair plastered to a tiny skull. It felt like velvet. Still laughing at the incredibility of it, she felt the baby turn within her, without even her pushing, and slid out past her hand and onto the waiting blankets. Almost immediately the pain was gone. She lay her head on the bench, closing her eyes and panting. She did it. She had made it here, and birthed her baby, and no one touched her or made her feel violated doing it.
Her elation was interrupted by a small mewling sound from the ground. She froze. Even after all that hard work, she was suddenly afraid to look. She opened her eyes to see Raene. Raene smiled.
"Go ahead, she's yours," the older night elf gestured to the blankets.
Zarabethe leaned back on shaky legs and stared in wonder at the tiny being beneath her. Wet, blue ringlets clung to dark purple temples. Eyes screwed shut but not from pain. Her ears were obviously elongated, and folded at the end, like a newborn kitten. Both of her fists were drawn to her chest, and as Zarabethe watched, her mouth moved open and close, taking first breaths and making tiny noises. She was so small, and so perfect, her chest tightened looking at her. Hesitantly, she reached a hand down, and with only a finger, touched one tiny, folded ear. So very soft. She gently cupped her hand around the baby's head and felt her warmth, felt her heartbeat through her skin. She felt mesmerized and overcome by this new life in front of her.
She glanced helplessly at Raene. Raene came over, tucking a fresh blanket around the baby as she gently picked her up. She cradled the baby in her lap and with a clean towel, wiped her clean of fluid and carefully checked her over. She listened to her heart and breathing, inspected her hands and feet, felt the top of her head. The baby mewled in protest at being fussed at, and Zarabethe felt her face spread wide in a grin. Raene was smiling too, cooing to the newborn.
"Do you have a name yet?" she asked, bouncing the baby gently in her lap.
"Brekke." Zarabethe cleared her throat. Her voice was scratchy. "Her name is Brekke."
"Brekke," Raene repeated. She gazed at the tiny face a moment more, then scooped her up, all-business again.
"She's very small, but in good health. I'm going to hand her to you now and let the others back in, we'll get you cleaned up and situated. I'm sure she'll want to eat soon."
Without another warning the baby was placed in her arms. Zarabethe cradled her awkwardly, feeling lost and suddenly very incapable. The other attendants came in then, chattering quietly and stealing glances at the baby as they started to clean up the room. As the birth-haze started to fade from her mind, Zarabethe was embarrassed and uncomfortable as they removed the soiled blankets, laid down fresh ones, and brought her pillows. They were careful to touch her as little as possible, asking her instead to move where they needed her. The more attention was paid to her, the more her anxiety grew, and her arms began to feel prickly against the blanket swaddling the baby. Suddenly she wanted to put her down. She needed to breathe. She started looking for somewhere suitable, a basket, or someone else to hold her. One attendant, a petite night elf with short hair the color of new leaves, stepped in front of her.
"I brought you a clean nightgown." She held it out shyly, as if she expected Zarabethe to bite her. When she didn't, she pressed on.
"Would you like me to hold the baby while you change?" her voice was hopeful. Zarabethe handed her over gladly, breathing a sigh of relief as she took the bundle of clothes from her. The other attendants left, giving her privacy to change. Raene was nowhere to be seen. The green-haired night elf stood in the corner, cooing to the newborn.
"My name is Ayleah. I'm assigned to you for the next few days. Anything that you need, I'll be happy to help you with." Ayleah didn't take her eyes off the baby as she spoke, smiling and cuddling her close. She struck Zarabethe as very young.
Zarabethe started to stand, but her legs shook and so she settled for sitting gingerly down on the pile of clean blankets behind her. She pulled her shirt off, wincing at muscles she hadn't realized she'd pulled. Her legs were incredibly weak, like jelly. Her belly felt sore and strangely empty, although nowhere near back to its original shape. Her breasts ached, and she cringed as the nightgown rested against them. She spied her bag just barely in reach, and she dug through until she found a hairbrush. She set to work unbraiding the tangled mess of her hair as the other night elf piped up.
"What's your baby's name?" Ayleah asked.
"Brekke."
"She's so tiny," Ayleah continued. Zarabethe's compliance seemed to open up a floodgate of conversation. "Most of the babies here are much bigger, although there have been a few smaller ones. Most of those don't make it though, they are too early. Were you sick much?"
"A little bit," Zarabethe answered quietly. She paused in yanking the brush through her hair. She didn't know much about babies, but both Ayleah and Raene had mentioned her size. She thought guiltily of all the times she had neglected to feed herself or get proper sleep. She had been terribly seasick, but that wasn't an excuse for the entire time.
"I wonder why she's so small then?" Ayleah seemed to just like to hear herself talk. She bounced on her toes as Brekke started to fuss a little. "Usually the small ones come from mothers who were really sick, and didn't get enough food, or they didn't take good care of themselves, and the babies were early. She's so perfect though, look at her little fingers!" The night elf laid a finger inside Brekke's hand: the violet fingers automatically curled around it. "And so strong too! What a beautiful thing you are."
"And probably hungry, too." Raene appeared out of nowhere, carrying a basket under her arm.
"Ayleah, go help the Windwhispers," she instructed the young night elf as she took Brekke from her. Ayleah's face pinched in disappointment.
"I'll come back and check on you in a little bit!" she called as she scurried out the door.
"Now then, little one, let's get you some breakfast," Raene said to Brekke as she carried her over to Zarabethe. Zarabethe hesitantly reached for the baby, her stomach sinking as she realized the next step. Her hand shook as she unbuttoned her nightgown. Her skin started to crawl immediately as Raene helped her get the baby positioned. The sensation of her feeding was excruciating. She started to hyperventilate.
"Raene, " she said, her voice strained. "I don't think I can do this."
"Nonsense, you're doing fine," Raene reassured distractedly, folding a pile of diapers beside her.
The baby wriggled in her arms, losing the nipple temporarily and then trying to relatch. Zarabethe completely lost it. She yanked the baby away from her breast, who immediately started to yowl. She shoved Brekke into Raene's surprised arms, and leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest and squeezing her eyes shut. Tears ran down her cheeks as she heard Raene try to soothe the newborn. Her heart ached with guilt. Words babbled out of her mouth.
"I can't do it. I can't take it. You know I can't stand it when someone touches me, and I just, can't," She opened her eyes, pleading with the older night elf. "Isn't there something else you can feed her?"
Raene's mouth was set in a line as she stood, bouncing on her toes as she paced the perimeter of the room. Eventually the baby's cries calmed.
"You'd be surprised to know that you aren't the first to have this reaction," Her voice was calm, but Zarabethe could hear emotion behind it. Raene continued to pace, gently bouncing the baby.
"Giving birth, mothering children...this is a skill that has nearly been lost to us with our immortality. Regaining our fertility has been both a blessing and a curse. Finding women willing to give themselves to motherhood is hard enough, but many mothers do not attach properly to their babies even after birth. They have been alone too long, they are too used to their autonomy. They try to give the baby to someone else, or they leave them on our doorsteps and flee."
Raene's eyes were dark with pain and she seemed to pull Brekke closer to her.
"They don't often survive. Even if we try to pair a newborn with a mother that has just given birth, so she gets ample milk, they wither and die. As an immortal species, we are strong, fast, incredible survivors." Her tone grew bitter.
"As a mortal species, dependent on reproduction to continue, we are weak. I have spent the last few years of my life building this community, facilitating education, helping women give birth...and the amount of loss is heartbreaking. Only about one in three babies survive." When Raene raised her eyes to look at the other night elf, they were a mix of emotions: disappointment, sorrow, and a deep determination.
"The humans have developed a reasonable facsimile to mother's milk to give their orphans. We have tried it, and it falls far short for us. Brekke is very small, even though she looks full term. I can't claim to know anything about your pregnancy, but from the condition you both arrived in, I would wager a guess that she inherited your indomitable will, because otherwise she wouldn't have survived. She is too small to try the formula on. She needs you, or she won't make it."
Brekke was calm now, sucking on her fingers. Raene sat down on the floor where Zarabethe was still curled into a ball watching her. She held the baby out to her, her voice shaking a bit with emotion as she put on a patient face.
"Now, let's try again." Zarabethe took a deep, steadying breath, and reached for the newborn. She just held her for a moment, acclimating herself to the feeling of her warmth, to her gentle weight in her arms. She carefully stroked one tiny folded ear, and Brekke opened her eyes to look at her. Zarabethe felt her heart swell as her liquid silver eyes locked on hers: complete trust, complete love. Her eyes were a fathomless well of innocence. Zarabethe suddenly was consumed with a fierce sense of protection. It was unfamiliar, but she knew without a doubt she would never let anything harm this beautiful creature in her arms. Not even herself.
"I will try."
Forgot my end note: Are you guys tired of the All-Zarabethe Show? Should we bring back the other characters? I think so!