Welcome to my latest Inheritance based story; I hope you enjoy it. As to what it is about, I shall leave you to read and discover for yourselves.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything, nor do I intend to make financial gain from this fan fiction; it is merely for pleasure.
"Speech"
Thought
X
"Push! Islanzadí, you must push!"
My hair was sweat-soaked and sticking to my forehead, tears were streaming down my face and an excruciating pain was burning between my legs, but push I did. A scream tore itself from my throat as I, queen Islanzadí of Du Weldenvarden, felt the head of my babe leave my body accompanied by a river of ruby red blood.
Contractions knifed through my frightened form and I thought of my husband, who was even now thundering to the city to be at my side.
The midwife's white sleeves were blood-stained and rolled up to her elbows, and her hair was coming loose from its bun as she held my spasming legs apart to aid my child in its journey into the world outside of my belly. She looked up into my eyes, her lips arching into a smile of support and reassurance, and used the cool cloth her apprentice had handed her to dab at my heated brow, her helper taking her place at the foot of the bed in between my legs. "It is almost over, Islanzadí, it is almost done. I need you to be brave, my friend. Push, the babe is ready to be born."
I gasped in great gulps of air and laid my pain stricken gaze onto the midwife, who was also my closest friend, and attempted to form an answer to her words. "Nilían, please do not leave me. It hurts so much," I tensed with a cry as I felt a sharp pain in my back and in the lower section of my swollen stomach. "Is my child safe?" I whispered. Please let my babe be in good health. Please.
Nilían began to massage my stomach to help with the shudders that wracked my frame. To use magic in such a situation would be dangerous and foolish; the risk that the mother or the unborn babe would harmed was too great. "Your child is in the best of hands, my dear. You need not fear the babe's safety. I shall not allow anything ill to happen to either of you," Nilían answered, her pale eyes full of compassion, understanding full well what the queen of the realm was experiencing, having birthed two sons herself.
Her words did not ease the pain, nor did her ministrations, but they brought me heart. The dirtied linen sheets of my bed clutched tightly in my hands, I clenched my teeth and pushed with all of my might. One final contraction gripped at my insides, and then I heard the terrified shriek of my newly-born child, eager to reach its place at my breast. The pain abruptly ceased, reduced to a dull ache at my core.
I dissolved into tears of joy, hardly being able to believe that I had birthed my baby, and that all had gone well. Nilían was grinning triumphantly to her apprentice and me as she carefully bathed and swaddled my infant, and she smoothed her hand over the child's head as she laid it gently into my arms. She kissed my forehead and stroked my hair proudly. "You have done it, Islanzadí! You have birthed a beautiful baby girl."
"A girl? I have a baby girl?" I asked, overcome with happiness at the prospect of watching a little girl flourish into a lovely flower of womanhood. My little girl, I corrected the thought as it passed through my mind. My little girl.
I gazed at my beautiful baby's face, seeing her father's forest green eyes, and a black thatch of hair identical to my own. Her tiny features were delicate, and her eyes had a feline quality about their shape. The baby's ears were tapered to a point; such was the renowned characteristic of our graceful race.
"What shall you name her, my Lady?" Nilían's apprentice, Ëarelda, inquired, her eyes sparkling as she eyed my baby with wonder. Her question pulled me from my wandering thoughts.
"I could never name her unless Evandar were here to witness it, Ëarelda," I answered, the situation still seeming unreal to me.
Ëarelda blushed. "Forgive me, your Majesty."
I smiled, closing my eyes contentedly as I felt my baby suckle at my breast; an unusual sensation. "There is nothing to forgive, Ëarelda."
The soft spoken Elf maiden opened her mouth to reply when the door to the royal chamber was thrown open and a flushed Evandar rushed into the room, his eyes wide. His eyes widened even further when he caught sight of me lying on our bed, looking a mess, with our child held safely at my bosom. I offered him a tired grin.
Nilían spoke as he stood before me, his mouth opening and closing like a fish as he tried to speak. "I shall leave you alone to welcome your child into the world, your Majesties." She turned to me. "My queen, I shall attend to you as soon as my Lord Evandar has left to ready himself for the celebrations. I would that you attempt to rest if you can."
The two healers curtseyed, and hurried from the room.
A fresh flow of tears accumulated within my dark eyes. "We have a girl, my love. A blessed baby girl."
Evandar stood, shocked, before his face broke out into a grin and he began to laugh out loud in his jubilation. He gathered both the child and I into his arms and kissed me soundly on the lips, his calloused hand sinking into my hair. "Oh, my love, never in my life have I been so happy," he said, smiling at me as he withdrew from the kiss. "What shall we name her, Islanzadí?"
I looked into his eyes, the deep green pools of wisdom that had held me prisoner since our first meeting.
"Arya," I said. "Her name is Arya."
"Arya," he said, the name melodic on his lips. "A beautiful name, my love. Well done."
X
Arya lay asleep in her carved cot, her fine boned hand clenched lightly beside her porcelain cheek as she dreamed.
My eyes flicked over to where she slept for the umpteenth time and I sighed in happiness, something I had been doing quite a lot since Arya's birth a few hours before. Nilían had come back to our room, and had sternly ushered Evandar from the scented chamber, declaring that 'the poor woman' had been through enough without an audience leering over 'her' every move. He had argued heatedly, protesting that he was the king and my husband, but to no avail, as Nilían had politely asked him to leave countless times before and had finally lost patience.
I chuckled as I reminisced the amusing scene.
Nilían left her place in my closet amidst my clothing items and sat down beside me on the bed, a rich blue gown tucked into the crook of her arm.
"Come," she bade me, laying her soft white hand onto my arm. "Let us wash the blood and filth from your person, Islanzadí."
At my nod of consent, Nilían led me into the bath chamber that adjoined to the royal suites and relieved me of my stained yellow gown, dropping it into the laundry basket and setting the fine blue ceremonial dress onto a worked bench. She ran a bath for me and poured in a decent measure of sandalwood oil to mask the repulsive scent of blood before she helped me slide into the deep tub of warm water.
Although the various healing spells had eased a significant amount of the pain in my centre, the slight ache from the stretched muscles of my womanhood remained; and I had now received my moonbloods after a rather lengthy reprieve of them.
Nilían handed me fragrant soap with which to cleanse my damp hair. "I do not know how to thank you, Nilían," I said to her. "You have done so much for me; and for my daughter. If there is anything that Evandar or I could do to repay you, please do not hesitate to inform us of it."
Turning from where she stood pulling her hair back into its original state, Nilían flashed the mischievous that I recognized from our childhood. "With all due respect, Islanzadí, I must say that after the scene with my Lord, awarding me for my service would be the last thing on king Evandar's mind."
Despite the jest, I remained serious. "Nilían, I am in earnest."
Her humourous demeanor sobered considerably. "There is naught that you can do to please me, save to heal. Heal and find joy in Arya and in motherhood."
"Then it shall be as you wish, for I know your words to be wise," I said, my voice full of feeling, the wild emotions that I had become to used to as part of my pregnancy threatening to lead me to tears of gratitude.
My dearest friend smiled at me. "I am glad. But, I regret to say that I must leave you unattended for now. There are a few matters that I need to attend to. If you require anything, anything at all, contact me and I shall be here beside you before you can draw breath."
"I shall," I assured her, cheered by her jovial attitude.
With a kiss to my cheek, Nilían exited the room, leaving me to my own thoughts. I lingered in the water, washing myself, and only left the steaming tub when I felt clean all over.
My hands soothed my exhausted abdominal muscles as I thoroughly towel dried my hair and body. The comb that Nilían had left on the table below the sink was quickly drawn through my hair, and I moved to stand before the mirror to scrutinize my form after childbirth.
Everything about me had altered in the past months of maternity. My cheeks were rounder; my breasts fuller and more tender than ever before in my life; my stomach, now deflated, was still rotund; my hips far more curved. I felt different, but it was not in a negative way.
My thoughts never strayed far from my daughter, and when I walked it was though I did so in an alternate universe where everything was flawless.
Still seeing myself with Arya in my arms as I threaded my way through the forest, I exhaled in exhaustion and donned my queenly clothing and hand sewn slippers; no spell was cast to dry my hair. I was still far too weak for even the simplest of magic use.
Walking into my bedchamber, I spied a maidservant laying down fresh linen sheets for my bed. She curtseyed when she saw me, as propriety demanded.
The maidservant eyed my ebony tendrils, still wet from my bath.
"My Lady Islanzadí," she began politely, "allow me to fix your hair."
"Of course," I answered, my attention on Arya's slumbering form at the far side of the room. I itched to walk over to her side.
But, I was not allowed the opportunity to do so. The maid sat me down at the vanity and pulled the hair that fell freely over my shoulders behind my back and dried it with a few quick words in the Ancient Language. She began to weave ivory ribbons and sprigs of fresh flower into my black as night tresses, before she lowered the undeniable symbol of queenship, my gleaming silver circlet, onto my brow.
I fidgeted impatiently, wishing for a wreath of holly or laurel with which to use for a crown.
The maid completed her task of taming my hair with a satisfied nod of her head. "There, my Lady. You look stunning."
"Thank you."
She curtseyed for the second time and left my presence without another word. Relief washed over me, and I rushed to Arya's cot.
How long I spent stroking her cheek and kissing her lovely hands I do not know, but it seemed an incredibly short amount of time before Evandar entered our suites once again, now dressed in a fine tunic of dark blue to match my own gown and clean black leggings.
"The time has arrived for the naming ceremony, Islanzadí," he said, peering at the bundle in my arms fondly.
"I know," I answered.
"You both look beautiful," he added, reaching for my hand.
My only reply to his words was a curve to my lips as the three of us left to present Du Weldenvarden's newest Princess to the people of Ellesméra.
X
Well, that is all for now. Please tell me your opinion on the story; if you like it, hated it, whatever it may be. Thanks for reading this, and I hope you enjoy the rest of this fan fiction.