Category: Resident Evil Village
Rating: M
Couples: -
Warnings: AU, mention of torture, Blood
Chapter: Chapter 51
Copyright: Characters & places © By Capcom, Plot & OC´s © by me
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Breathing heavily, she focused on the in and out of the cold air in her lungs. The pain was starting to increase, clearly meaning labour was starting. She had never dealt with labour before, her illness when human having rendered her all but infertile in that birthing a child would have meant risking definitely herself and probably the child as well.
Considering the sentiments back then, she would have been lower on her hypothetical husband's list... so she had remained a spinster, with no man and no children in her future, as she had seen it back then. Of course, that last one had changed significantly, first with the three daughters Mother Miranda had given her and now with the Nymphs she actually carried herself.
At least, the effects of pregnancy and birth were quite similar to how it would have been had she been human. If not for her healing-factor, she'd have been dead a couple dozen times over... Hissing, she curled around her stomach. From how long it was already taking, it seemed this Nymph was also taking their time in leaving her after already having taken its' time in growing.
She did not want to know exactly how something like that would leave her... tear her apart? Groaning, Alcina pressed her face against her knees, one hand clawing at the wall beside her. Perhaps she should have asked Frederika exactly how a Nymph leaves its' host before doing this, but it was too late for her to regret it. She had no way of alerting anyone now, short of hoping that her screams of pain were loud enough that Moreau would hear them.
She hoped they would not be loud enough for him to hear.
The Dimitrescu matriarch flinched when the door was torn open, a gust of the first Romanian winterstorm entering and bringing a load of snow. Someone grumbled as they struggled to close it again without breaking it.
"Fiica mea." Mother Miranda shook her wings, dispersing the snow on the black feathers.
"Mother...?" How had she found her!?
"Of course." The Priestess had foregone most of her more elaborate items, wearing a thick, luxurious coat instead. "I refuse to let you go through this yourself... Besides, your daughters are frantic." She knelt beside the taller woman, one hand pushing aside some free locks of hair. "And I do not want to consider how much worse it became once they realized you are in labour, draga mea."
"I wanted... to be alone..." She gasped, gouging the wall with her nails.
"And as someone who also gave birth, these things are better done with loved ones." The soft outside of the fur-lined gloves drew slow circles on the twitching stomach of the other woman. "Even better in a proper bed, but we must work with what we have..."
The elder Dimitrescu appreciated that she did not point out why they had to deal with having no bed.
"In here!" Someone called from outside, shouldering the door open. "Fucking hell, this building has to be at the ass-end of your fucking reservoir, Sal."
"It's the only one with windows." The hunch-backed form of the Lord of the Reservoir ducked inside, shortly followed by the fur-coated form of a woman and the man that had spoken first.
"Really!?" She would have cursed them out, but a wave of new pain tore through her chest.
"You didn't think we'd let you deal with this alone, did you?" Donna appeared beside her, tugging the cloak aside a bit to settle against her sister's side.
"I was hoping it..." She breathed out harshly.
"Well, I do live to annoy you." Karl finally managed to close the door, looking around the room. "So consider it me being me if that makes you feel better."
"Careful with offers like that, throwing you into my lake might make her feel better." Salvatore remained in a corner, trying not to crowd his older sister.
"You know me so well, Moreau." Managing to chuckle softly, she groaned again. It was feeling more and more like she was actually being torn apart slowly.
Coughing, she hadn't even realized how bad it had already gotten until Donna gasped and wiped away something from her chin. The soft fur peeking out of her sister's sleeve was tainted red.
"Oh god..." Mother Miranda breathed at the sight.
"Thankfully, I came prepared." The Dollmaker murmured, opening her own coat enough to pull a bag from deeper in her clothes. "Here, this'll help." She pinched some powder from inside the small pouch and blew it into the air. "Pollen, of my flowers." She explained at her family's questioning looks. "It might not take everything, but it will hopefully dull your pain."
Alcina smiled weakly at that statement, one hand on her own stomach and the other still clawing at the wall.