Arya stood in front of the mirror within the guest room at Angela's house, eyes trained on her lower abdomen. When had the baby gotten so big?
The clothes Angela had provided for her fit well and comfortably. The air was cool and the wood beneath her feet was solid yet strangely soft. It was like there was a calming atmosphere that offered a reprieve from the darkness that surrounded her; like a haven or an oasis. For the first time in what seemed to be ages, she felt… okay.
With a soft sigh, she let her hands slide over the swell between her hips, smoothening the shirt she wore over the taught expanse. She stood to the side and observed herself. Her whole center of gravity had shifted.
Her bones ached to run, but was it safe?
Internally pacing, her mind looped back around to the events from the day before. She almost died.
She endangered her baby, her dragon, and her own life, and yet somehow, the severity of that fact alone seemed to pale in comparison to the crushing guilt she felt over realizing her own child felt unloved.
He felt unloved.
"I do love you." She whispered almost desperately as her eyes filled with tears.
Angela had told her the night before that it wasn't her fault and that his impression of the way she felt was based on intermittent connections with him. Those intermittent connections were formed during the most unstable of times, meaning, all he felt from her was her fears and anxieties.
No wonder he felt unloved.
She wasn't sure how to communicate with him, though. It was much different than trying to mentally communicate with, say, Eila or Eragon. She had to speak only through feelings in a way different from simple images to aid her in explaining herself or the nudge of emotion to help persuade her challenger. It was like trying to write with her right hand when she typically wrote with her left, only far more difficult and nearly unnatural in feeling. It was a different sort of mind she was dealing with. Thankfully, Angela promised to help teach her. She just hoped that once she learned the skill, that she'd feel better about the relationship she had with her son.
She wanted a good relationship with him. She wanted to be close. It seemed impossible since she was currently so afraid. She wasn't even sure why she was so afraid. The thought of bringing a life into the world twisted her stomach into knots, but who wouldn't be at least a little bit fearful of that prospect; of the pain and possible death or perhaps the responsibility of caring for a whole new person? She was afraid of failure, sure, but why was it so debilitating? She held a phobia she felt had no reason to exist. Nothing involving pregnancy had traumatized her at a young age. She grew up in an environment that was so positive and illuminating about the gift of life. Had she managed to scar herself unintentionally in a memory long forgotten? She genuinely couldn't say. Sometimes phobias have no root.
Her conversation with Angela the night before had been painful at first, but as the Herbalist gently peeled back the layers to her formidable defenses, she finally let go and did her best to explain what was wrong. In short, her baby was a stranger; a foreign being who wormed its way inside of her to grow and live without her consent or willingness, and at the end of the day, the choice of if or when to become a mother wasn't her own. Both she and Eragon agreed to and very carefully set several wards in place to prevent any repercussions that might have come from their… couplings, and yet somehow everything failed when it should not have.
She just felt incredibly guilty for not being as willing as most to nurture and raise a child; for even remotely comparing him to a foreign being that was alien to her in almost every way. In almost any other task she was given, she could manage fine and do well. This, though, was different. Much different.
In the beginning, namely, in Ilirea and in her journey to the liberated kingdom, she felt that maybe she knew her son better; that maybe her outlook was better. She remembered being more determined to face the challenge head-on despite her fears and anxieties. She remembered being able to smile.
Currently, though, she had been worn down and beaten raw by her own mind. She had become shy to even approach the stand to face her troubles, and by doing so, had exhausted herself entirely. In that state, the darkness festered and grew and pulsated with grotesque progression. It was worse than physical torture. Even Angela could see and understand that by just observing the way she moved.
It was worse that Arya had kept all of this from everyone who loved and cared about her, including Fírnen, who she feared would look down on her for such uncharacteristic weakness. She'd always been strong willed and determined. She felt dishonorable for having been beaten down so quickly, and by her own mind of all things.
Angela made sure to reinforce that she did have people to talk to. That she wasn't alone. It did help, but it would take a while for her to utilize those resources on her own and she knew Angela understood that.
She wanted to get better. The darkness was exhausting and painful to live with. She hadn't meant to shut her friends and family out, but that was what happened, and it caused her to feel alone. It was her own doing and she hadn't found the strength to ask for help.
With a careful touch, she lifted her shirt to observe herself. Another thing that they had discussed the night before was about how being able to see her son as he was inside of her body potentially caused an unusual sort of stress. It was therefore decided that Angela would remove the enchantment she had placed in Ilirea which now no longer allowed the Elf to see into herself.
Arya… also wasn't quite ready to see the ways in which her skin had changed: silvery lines ran vertically up her torso, starting below the waist of her trousers and ending mostly just past her navel. It looked like her skin was jaggedly split as old, worn fabric would if it had been stretched too far. The smooth, tanned nature of her skin was interrupted by those uneven silvery marks, and the more she thought about it, the less upset she was about carrying them. If she made it to the other side in one piece and if those marks stayed, they would become scars she fought for. They would be proof she'd become a stronger person… hopefully.
For now, though, she would focus on keeping her head above water, both literally and figuratively.
With the same gentle touch, she pulled her shirt back over her stomach and let her hands cradle the swell of which her baby was causing. She took a deep breath as she stood there for a few more seconds, and when she felt ready, she left to head out into the open. For what felt like the first time in her life, she was hungry in the total absence of nausea. Hopefully eating would be just as comfortable.
With careful footsteps, she made her way into the common room where she found Angela happily buzzing around in the kitchen, humming an unfamiliar tune. She stopped for a moment, just out of view, to observe her surroundings.
The table was set and a low-toned set of wind chimes sang in the soft breeze that drifted through the house. Solembum sat on the counter, watching with vague interest as Angela cooked something in a pan.
"Good morning Arya." Angela called and the Elf straightened.
"Oh, good morning." She couldn't help sounding surprised. She thought she was being quiet and that Angela was too focused on her cooking to notice her existence right away.
"Have a seat, I'm making breakfast. Is there anything you'd like in particular?"
Arya thought for a moment as she did as she was told and crossed the room. "Uh… no, thank you. Anything that's most convenient, I suppose."
Angela turned and looked more pointedly at the Elven Queen who was now easing herself into a chair. "Well now that's no way to do breakfast."
Arya looked right back at her. "I'm a guest in your house. I don't want to make my stay any more burdensome than it already is."
"The only thing that's even remotely burdensome is your refusal to tell me what you'd like for breakfast. Why do you think your presence here is burdensome anyway?" Angela raised an eyebrow at her then went back to cooking.
The Elf pursed her lips. "My stay was completely unexpected."
"And yet the clothes you're wearing fit well and the bed was made up for a guest. While yes, I wasn't necessarily expecting you so immediately, I had a mind to invite you soon. Things just… worked out." The Herbalist smiled as she glanced over at Solembum. "And I fancy being prepared for the unexpected."
Arya's expression softened, her mind flipping to a question she'd been longing to ask. "How were you able to get me out of the water so quickly?"
Angela picked up the pan and tossed the contents around gently to get it off of the heat for a moment. "I have my ways."
"I was no less than fifty feet out from the shore in deep water holding a rock. I'm not saying I'm ungrateful. I'm curious and confused and somewhat concerned. You shouldn't have been able to get to me so quickly and yet you did." She stressed.
Angela's smile became a smirk. "I have my ways and we'll leave it at that. I will say though that I was near when Fírnen called." She shrugged. "Now, what would you like for breakfast?"
Arya sighed and rubbed her eye, then when she pulled away, she frowned. Her Gedwëy Ignasia wasn't glowing like it had been for the past few months. "Uh… toast is fine."
"Arya, you're pregnant, I would suggest something a little more nutritious unless you're having trouble settling an upset stomach, which I have a remedy for, by the way."
With a nearly inaudible sigh, Arya nodded. "Do you have eggs?"
"I do."
"Then eggs."
Angela sighed. "I'll make them with peppers and onions, is that okay?"
Arya looked up from her hand distractedly. "Yes, that's fine. Thank you."
"Wonderful. I'll make you some toast as well and if you can't eat all of it, there's no worry at all." The Herbalist said as she dumped what she was cooking onto a dish, then slid it to Solembum. "Go get dressed and this is yours."
The Werecat flicked his tail, then leapt down from the counter and sauntered off in the direction of the upstairs. "I don't know what's gotten into him recently."
Arya frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, he's become short and attitudinal. First it was Elva, now it's him." She snorted. "I bet it's a girl or maybe the lack of one. That's partly why Elva was so irate back in Ilirea, I wouldn't be surprised if Solembum is going through the same troubles."
Arya's frown deepened. "You know Solembum better than I do, though I'm curious about Elva now. Who did she have eyes for in Ilirea? Did she have eyes for someone in Ilirea?"
Angela cocked an eyebrow, a smirk on her face. "You want me to tell you?"
Arya nodded with an almost expectant look. "I do."
With a soft chuckle, the Herbalist nodded in the Elf's direction. "She fancied you."
Arya's eyes instantly went wide with shock. "Me?!"
"Yes." Angela looked at her, shrugging slightly, then relaxed with a frank expression when Arya still looked shocked. "Oh, how can you blame her? You're very attractive, quiet, and mysterious, and someone who she has slight trouble reading right away. Of course you intrigue her."
"I'm over a hundred years older than she is!"
"So? Elva's opinion of a potential mate does not base itself on age. It's based on who can understand her. You must remember her whole being is far older than anyone remotely close to her physical or actual age. Eila is nearly five years shy of her fourth decade." The Herbalist sighed as she rubbed the pan with butter. She then cracked two eggs in the pan and waited for them to cook. "Besides, realizing she didn't fancy men took a hard toll on her for quite some time. Out of all the things that could've made her cry, that was the one of the only things I've seen her cry over. She was already separated from the world because of her curse, and fancying women was another thing that drove her even further from her interpretation of 'normal'. She knew she stuck out like a sore thumb and she knows she will always be different. All she wanted was for someone to understand. She wanted a lover and a friend regardless of how young she looked. On your end, you were never disrespectful to her. Like I said before, you're very attractive and you intrigue her. She can't read you right away like she can everyone else. You're an anomaly, or at least slightly so. Of course she was attracted to you. You lived by your own guidelines in the Varden and she looked up to that. In a way, you were a role model for her."
As she turned to the silver oval in her palm, Arya softened significantly as she let her fingers trace the no-longer-glowing mark. "I suppose I didn't see it that way. I'm glad that she and Eila are together. I'm sure that in each other, they've found what neither of them knew they needed, at least, one would hope. So far they seem to be doing fairly well together and I'm happy for them." She nodded and looked up to watch Angela flip the eggs over.
"Have you talked any more with them pertaining to their relationship?"
Arya shook her head and let her gaze fall back to her hand. "No, I haven't. Not since before Griishuul and Au'lus arrived. The last honest and serious conversation I had with either of them was with Eila and that was the day Elva left."
"Oh? And what did you talk about?" Angela raised an eyebrow.
"Lots of things." Arya sighed. "We talked about the intimate aspect of their relationship and where they stood. They're taking it very slow, which is probably a good decision for both of them, in my opinion. Eila expressed to me that I should take up the traditional method of… birth in an Elvish community. She's afraid I'm going to die if I refuse those methods."
Angela hummed as she flipped the eggs again. "Well, her worry is very real, Arya. I know this is your first time going through a pregnancy, therefore I'm not sure you're aware how dangerous it actually is for you to give birth without aid. I'm not trying to scare you and I'm sure she wasn't either, but please realize that accepting the help will greatly increase your chances of saving your own life as well as your son's."
Arya nodded without looking up. "I've decided to accept the aid. The more I read and hear, the more it's just reinforced that I'll need aid. Out of all the things that could be difficult for Elves, why does childbirth have to have such a high chance of death?"
Angela flipped the eggs. "You are moving a somewhat immortal being that's been living in you for a year out of your-"
Arya flinched. "Okay, I understand that part!"
"So then why do you have a question?" Angela smirked. "I'm messing with you. Think of it like a seashell. When a shell is made, it's strong right? Over time in the water, it withers if there's nothing to keep it strong. Essentially, your insides are working so hard contributing to the development of your little one there that by the time he's ready to see the world, your insides have, in a way, weakened. That's why it's so dangerous." She smiled. "You're like an octopus in a way. Humans have the luxury of producing mostly non-magical children, plus their gestational period is three months shorter. I understand some humans can use magic, but not to the caliber to which Elves can. The birthing process for humans is dangerous as well, though less so compared to Elves. Urgals have naturally wide hips, so they often have the least trouble giving birth. Dwarves are comparable to humans when it comes to pregnancy and birth." She dumped a cup of chopped up green peppers and red onions into the pan and tossed them around with the eggs.
Feeling suddenly self-conscious, Arya let her right hand fall to her abdomen. She continued staring at the table as her fears started sinking in again. The relief she had before seemed short-lived as her mind began to cloud with darkened thoughts.
Angela noticed the lengthening silence, and when she brought the plate over after cooking up the vegetables, toast, and eggs, she remained by Arya's side. "You might not believe me, but it's going to be alright." She said, pressing a hand to the Elf's cheek. "I know you're scared and worried about all of the things that come with bringing a new life into the world. I know it's confusing, heavily emotional and tolling on all aspects of your being, but it'll be worth it. Besides, I think having a baby to take care of might be good for you. War has hardened you and has caused you to close yourself off. I've watched it happen over the decades; I've watched it hurt you. You've lost the childlike glint that used to shine so brightly when you were younger. I think having a child will rejuvenate your lost younger side and open up a new perspective to the world for you as well. Children are so very interesting and if I may say so, a child coming from both you and Eragon will be a very interesting little one indeed. Like we discussed last night, I'll help you learn how to talk to him so you two can get better acquainted. Once you can communicate, I think it'll get a lot easier for you." She ran her fingers through Arya's hair. "Now eat. A little birdie told me that Murtagh is within Du Weldenvarden."
Arya's eyes widened slightly, temporarily distracted from her earlier vulnerability. "So soon? I thought it'd take him a longer amount of time to get here."
Angela shrugged. "Well, if he has Eldunarí with him, it would make sense that his trip is taking him less time. We'll see when he gets here."
Arya took a deep breath. "How long until he reaches Ellesméra?"
"My guess would be as soon as this afternoon, though he's more likely to arrive tomorrow. Do your advisors know of Murtagh's visit?" Angela pursed her lips and turned to make herself something to eat. She checked up the stairs for Solembum but heard or saw no sign of him.
"I've let them know, yes. Däthedr will be the one to greet him at the gates and to assess the situation. He doesn't want me to be there for safety reasons." She deadpanned.
"He's just looking out for you. Speaking of dangerous arrivals, do you think Shruikan should attend Däthedr? He can act as a familiar face that could help keep the potentially mangled Eldunarí calm." She turned and pointed to Arya's food. "Eat, dear."
The Elf nodded and turned to her food, then picked up the piece of toast and took a bite. Thankfully she didn't feel sick.
"Maybe." She sighed. "I'll need to ask Eila to speak to him for me. She's the only one he'll talk to. He's in a lot of pain still and I worry about his healing process. I don't want to do anything that'll upset him."
"Oh, I agree, most definitely. It is worth it to ask him, though. Make sure to tell Eila to not pressure him. She's sensitive to things like that, so I'm confident she'd never do such a thing, but it is best to offer a reminder." Angela smiled, then made a wild yet vague gesture with her hand. "Changing the subject. How are Griishuul and Au'lus doing? I haven't heard much in their case."
Arya swallowed the bite of food she was chewing carefully. "They're assimilating well. It seems Griishuul has become fast friends with Elva, though I sense heavy tension between him and Eila. Yesterday morning after breakfast, he and Elva were playing a game using small, flat stones. I think they might have been made out of carved bone, but that's beside the point. Eila went to visit with Sloan for a while. I think talking to him is helping her, but she's become very elusive this past week and I can't seem to get her to talk with me. Anyway, I think Griishuul is doing well and the same can be said for Au'lus. He mentioned learning how to make pottery and I'd like to nurture the desire to create and build in any of my students." Arya nodded and took another bite of her breakfast. She was incredibly thankful for the absence of nausea.
"That's good to hear in Griishuul and Au'lus' case. Not so much for Eila though. Has she given you any indication as to what might be wrong?" Angela was making more eggs, this time for herself. "Oh, I have ginger tea in case you're nauseous or if you just like ginger tea."
Arya smiled. "I do like ginger tea, but thankfully no nausea this morning. And to answer your question, I have no idea unless it has something to do with her past. I don't think she and Elva are having trouble in their relationship. If they were, I think Elva would be visibly upset also. I think Elva is struggling with control over her ability to use magic though. She seems hesitant and almost fragile."
Angela hummed as she flipped her eggs over. "I'll talk with her and see how she is. Nothing like this has ever happened and if you're able to notice her struggling, it's probably more severe than you think. She tends to hide when she feels compromised. I'll talk to Eila too if you want me too. I'd be more than happy to give it a shot."
Arya nodded. "Thank you. I think anything is worth it to try at this point. The last thing I want is for Eila to completely shut down on me. I want her to feel safe here and unjudged. I understand also that she has a lot to work through, but I need her to know she has people to go to if she needs help." She sounded slightly exasperated.
With raised eyebrows, Angela looked over. "Well now that runs in the family."
The Elf looked confused. "What does that mean?"
Angela huffed a soft laugh. "You're in the same position with Eila that I'm in with you. You have so much support around you and yet you haven't reached out, preferring to suffer in silence. Eila seems to be doing the same thing and because you're related, the tendency to do such a thing seems to be hereditary. I can urge you to talk to any of your friends, including me, and yet you won't. Why that is, I can take my guesses, but I suppose the same can go for Eila as well." She flipped the eggs again.
Feeling called out, Arya's eyes became worried as she thought about Angela's point. Excuses came to mind to guide the truths. She decided it would be best to speak about the truths though. "Angela… I'm worried about… being thought of as weak or incompetent if I ask for help over something that shouldn't be a matter to stress over. It'll be a more solidified confirmation that I'm not good enough." She said quietly as she stared at her palm. "I know asking for help isn't a bad thing, but I struggle with things I shouldn't be struggling over. Take feeling him move for example. I shouldn't feel terrified. Most expectant mothers look forward to that part. For me, it makes me feel more isolated because I can't find my own enthusiasm or even any comfort in it. Angela, I didn't have the choice on when to become a mother. I wasn't even sure if I wanted to be a mother before any of this, and honestly, I was leaning towards not having kids at all. I feel too young; too unprepared. The situation I'm in is untraditional, and therefore looked down upon regardless of how high of a standard a child is held to in the Elvish community. I feel very alone regardless of everyone around me. I'm the first in at least a decade to have a child, and I'm the only one going through this as well. I don't know what to expect. I didn't even know how long I'd be pregnant for. I had to read it in a book. I don't know what I'm doing, and I… I truly do long for Eragon's presence here." She sighed and wiped her eyes. "I feel worse than just pathetic."
Angela removed the pan from the hot eye and flipped the eggs over once more. "Arya."
"Hm?" Her voice was quiet and clearly vulnerable.
"It's not pathetic. You're going through a lot of things you weren't ready for. Yes, you may be young, but that doesn't mean you're incapable or incompetent. Plenty of humans have children before their second decade. A child is a child regardless of race or species or age of the parents. You'll be alright. I know Fírnen has mentioned this plenty of times, but you took good care of him when he was young. Once you learn how to emotionally communicate, caring for a child won't be much different than caring for a dragon. Things will clear up soon and it'll get easier, I promise. With all this said, can you do me a favor?"
Arya's eyes were wide as she nodded, not willing to risk her voice cracking or losing even more of her composure.
"I want you to come visit me at least once a week so we can talk and so I can help you learn how to communicate with your little one. The conversation we have doesn't necessarily have to be about how you're doing, but I do want to know that part in truth. It's okay to not be okay, Arya. Please remember that. Will you agree to this favor?" The Herbalist pulled the eggs from the pan and scooped them onto a plate. She shut the stove down and headed to the table.
"Yes. I agree." Arya sounded almost stiff and Angela softened. As she approached the table, she set her plate down and drew closer to the Elf. Her arms were around Arya before she could protest, but genuinely, Angela didn't think Arya would protest. She needed the comfort too badly.
"Good." The Herbalist whispered and held the embrace for a moment longer before letting go. "Now, you mentioned liking ginger tea. Can I get you some?"
Arya cracked a soft smile. "If you want to, I wouldn't be opposed."
"Fantastic."
It was good to see Arya smile, even if it was small. Angela only hoped she could help. After all, she had a soft spot for the young Elf, and she knew it would always be like that.
A/N: I know it's been a long time, but I can't seem to do much about it. I will say though that after two years in college before deciding to change my career, I've found I'm burned out from it all, so I'll be doing classes in the fall instead of the summer like I originally planned. I just wanted to let you all know. I am okay, though, and I promise, I'm not abandoning this fic, it means way too much to me. Updates might continue to be a little bit scarce like they have been and I'm truly sorry about that. I want to give you guys good content instead of a rushed, half-assed version of what I had in mind. Life happens, but I'm still here, I promise.
On a note more pertaining to the chapter, I hope you liked it. It'll be a little more Arya-centric going forward as we see her begin to work through her struggles, though we aren't going to leave our other characters out either. On a note for you and for me, chapter forty-nine and fifty both take place a week after Griishuul and Au'lus arrived and Arya is twenty-one weeks pregnant.
As always, thank you for reading and sticking with me this far. I know fifty chapters is a lot to read through and I hope you all have enjoyed the story. I am sorry I haven't been able to produce content more frequently, because trust me, I want to. Life kinda gets in the way sometimes. My life is going well though. My girlfriend and I just celebrated our one month anniversary of being together and I'm happy to say I can easily see many more months to come. Anyway, I hope your lives are going well for you too, I'd want nothing less.
With love, as always,
-Lady Arlo