Delwyn
The story of Alanna's mother
The festival had grown quite wild. Lively music played and shouts were barely heard above the crowd. A young woman, no more then 16 or 17, weaved her way through the multitude. Her purple dress clung to a delicate figure and golden curls adorned her face, which was extraordinarily pretty. She sighed, I'm bloody lost, she thought hopelessly.
"Excuse me." The girl jumped when she heard the deep male voice which was accompanied by a tap on the shoulder. She turned around to see a stocky man with reddish hair and brown eyes. Although he was not handsome, there was something very attractive about his appearance. She curtsied gracefully and held out her hand, which he promptly kissed. "Lord Alan of Trebond, it is a pleasure to meet you." She rose from her curtsy. "Lady Delwyn, I had heard stories about you, but seeing you at last, I see the real thing puts them to shame."
Delwyn blushed prettily. She knew he was referring to her exquisite eyes, which were purple. "Your grace, there is something I must ask of you." He looked at her and nodded. She glanced down ashamedly, "Could you help me find my way to the purple tents where the nobles are dinning. I got lost." To further her embarrassment she heard Lord Alan chuckle. "Of course," He said as he held out his arm, which she took, and lead her through the throngs of people which had gathered to celebrate king Roald and Queen Lianne's 5th year as the Tortallan monarchs.
In a pleasantly furnished room a young woman sat engulfed in a leather bound book, oblivious to the servant that came through the door carrying a note. "Lady Delwyn, a letter from his grace, Lord Alan of Trebond." The servant bowed and handed her the manila slip of paper. "Thank you," she muttered and gently opened it. She read the message carefully:
Lady Delwyn,
Please meet me in the Apple Orchid. There are some important matters I must discuss with you in person and I can not wait a moment longer.
Sincerely and lovingly,
Alan
Delwyn blushed at the last part. Lovingly? What did he mean by lovingly? She put her book down and ran to the mirror. She arranged her golden curls as best she could and straightened out her mauve dress, which brought out her brilliant violet eyes. Her heart beat rapidly as she walked down the long, grey corridor. She pushed open an iron door and half walked, half jogged to the orchid.
She found Alan under an immense tree that was shedding its blossoms to ready itself for the beautiful red fruit they would bear. Delwyn bowed politely. As she faced the ground she could tell Lord Alan had been pacing, for the grass had been matted down by heavy footprints. "Rise, my dear lady, you need not bow to me any longer." Lavender eyes questioned Alan and beckoned him to explain.
Alan took one of Delwyn's soft, white hands and kissed it gently. "Delwyn, I love you and I want you to be my wife."
A long pause made the air around them tense with anxiety. Moments passes and it seemed like she would never answer. She looked up and her purple eyes were filled with moist tears. "Of course I will be your wife," she muttered almost inaudibly as she threw her slender arms around him. At that moment time stopped as the young lovers held each other, never wanting to let go, for fear their heart would break.
Lady Delwyn of Trebond got up slowly and made her way to the library. She was in her eighth month of pregnancy, and it was quite obvious. Hew swollen belly, her tender breasts, the roundness in her face, and the soft glow that seemed to radiate around her indicated that she may be going into labor at any moment.
She found Alan in the corner engrossed in a book, as usual. When he saw her he immediately got up and assisted her into a chair. "My dear," Delwyn said quietly, "I fear I shan't only be giving you a son, but a daughter as well. Twins, my love. Maude, the healing woman, said it was to be twins." She smiled tiredly, waiting for her husband's reaction. He laughed and kissed her softly. "The gods have a sense of humor, my dear."
Alan rocked himself. Crying wasn't going to help, but he couldn't stop those bitter tears from falling. Delwyn, his wife, his world, was dead. Taken by the Black God after birthing his children, she had died due to Childbed Fever, a common illness that struck women when they were in labor.
He remembered her sad smile when she held the babes, a boy named Thomas, and a girl named Alanna, knowing she wouldn't be there as they grew into adulthood. They were healthy children, round and pink, with flaming, red hair and bright, amethyst eyes. Delwyn kissed them good-bye and called for Alan. She hugged him and told him she loved him. And her violet eyes fluttered shut, never to open again.